Getting in the Last Kiss

This is our Jantzen...the happiest mix of energy, giggles and tender heart all wrapped up in a very athletic, competitive, and crazy smart little whirlwind. He can wrestle his older brother to the ground because he is so strong...but he has the most sensitive heart and his pain shows in his face by alligator tears that fill his huge brown eyes and slide slowly down his cheeks... no screaming, no yelling, just big drops of tears.

His command of the English language at 4 years old is quite impressive and you might think twice about sitting down to play Mario Kart or Wii with him because he is in it to WIN! He has amazing concentration and nothing, I MEAN NOTHING, distracts him in the middle of a race or Wii game.

Green blankie is a favorite friend and Jantzen's compassionate heart will share it with me if I am not feeling well..."The silky side makes you feel better, Honey, if you rub it on your cheek".

He also loves Band-aids...especially camouflage ones. At any point in time he could be sporting one on each arm, leg and several fingers. Last night, as I was putting pajamas on him I noticed a Band-Aid on the front of his pajama top. After he had it on, it was clear that the Band-aid was strategically placed over his heart. I asked why he had a Band-aid on his pajama top. "Because, Honey, somebody hurt my feelings one time and it just bwoke my heart...my heart needed a Band-aid".


Although I could go on all day about my little guy...there is something about Jantzen that warms my heart every time I see it. He convicts me.

As you can see...Jantzen is quite the kisser!!

He will plant big, long kisses on our cheeks, our hands, our legs, our arms, anywhere he can reach...sometimes even after we are out the door, he will come running to give even more kisses. His brother Jaxson is the same way...But JANTZEN has something special about his kisses...He HAS to be the last one to kiss you. If you kiss Jantzen, he will kiss you back ten-fold, and if you kiss him again, he will kiss you back twenty fold. He has to get the last kiss in. He will even count while he kisses to make sure he gives you more than anyone else.

Jantzen showers kisses on us...be careful not to kiss back too many times or you will be there all day.

The Lord convicted me one day after leaving my little Jantzy, all covered in kisses I might add. I was thanking the Lord for him as I drove home and for his special little quirk of having to get the last kiss. I was smiling to myself as I heard the Lord say to my spirit, "Oh I love that too, daughter...it is sooo much sweeter to have the last kiss than to have the last word, isn't it?"

Tears stung my eyes as I remembered so many times I have tried to get the last word with something. I have even gone so far as to have the last word with God. I pled with the Lord to remind me in the future, and to give me a picture of Jantzen getting in the last kiss whenever I feel the urge to get in the last word. He has already answered my prayer several times.

And then...so so sweet He was to remind me that Jantzen is a picture of my Jesus and His love. Showers of blessings and kisses, each one sweeter than the last.

The Greek word for "worship" means to "kiss forward". And how sweet to be reminded that no matter how many times I "kiss forward" to my King...He kisses back, tenfold...no twentyfold...exceedingly, abundantly...more than I could ever hope or imagine.

Thank you Jantzen for being a picture of Jesus to me.

No matter how much you want the last word...why not try giving the last kiss...but remember...no matter how many kisses you give...Jesus always kisses more - PASS THE WORD.


"The lovingkindness of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting..." Ps. 103:17

Through Little Eyes

According to my now 6 year old grandson, there is only one way to set up a nativity scene. I had no idea I had been doing it so wrong for so many years. How good of God to use a child to open my eyes.

Some of you might think, as I once did, of arranging the characters from the manger scene in elaborate fashion, always, of course, the baby Jesus with his parents in the middle. Sometimes I have had the wise men coming off in a distance (since they arrived so late!), sometimes the shepherds and sheep off to the side as if coming down the hill to see the new baby. I even used to have a fireplace with stones that randomly jutted out which were perfect ledges on which to place angels announcing the birth.

One fine December day when Jaxson was almost 4 years old, he bounded into my house with glorious stories of all the fun at his house…Christmas trees, manger scenes, cookies, special ornaments. His words were tripping over themselves so quickly he could not get them out fast enough! And then, in the middle of a sentence…complete quiet. He stopped…he looked at me with puzzling brown eyes and said, “Honey, your “activity scene” is not finished! Here, I will do it for you!”

Gently, little fingers moved my wooden characters around, and when he was finished, I could not believe I had ever set my “activity scene” up any other way.

No one was far off, or set to the side, or on a ledge. All, and I mean all, were crowding so closely to each other as if to get as close to the baby as absolutely possible without hurting him. Shepherds huddled next to kings, sheep huddled next to camels, angels gathered as closely as possible and every eye, animal, human, angelic, every eye on Jesus.

Every Christmas I am reminded of one of my most life-changing lessons, taught to me by a 4 year old.


THE ONLY WAY TO CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS, AND EVERY OTHER DAY OF THE YEAR, IS ARM AND ARM WITH ALL OF CREATION, EACH OF US TRYING TO GET AS CLOSE AS WE CAN, SO THAT OUR EYES ARE FIXED ON THE ONLY ONE WHO HAS THE POWER TO SAVE US FROM OURSELVES.

As we go about this busy season, it is my prayer that we are all reminded that when things get busy, or chaotic, or go unfinished…maybe we need to do what Jaxson said, and fix our “activity scene”.

ALL EYES ON JESUS, on the day we celebrate His birth…and every day after until He comes to take us home.

All eyes on Jesus...Pass The Word...

Heaven's Nursery

I was angry the day they came to get the girls.  I almost could not contain it, and there is no use denying it.  I was truly beside myself, as were Kyra’s, and baby Evan’s, aunts, Susan and Alyson, along with her Grammie, and her foster mother Christy. 

We had spent three years loving her and nurturing her and playing with her and teaching her Bible verses and songs about Jesus.  Three years of trying to make sure she was safe and happy in this foster home.  Three years of making her a part of our lives, not a foster child but a child, for us to love.    For many reasons too long to go into, Kyra and her sister were now being moved to an Indian foster home since their birth mother was Creek Indian.  The tribe wanted them…but we did not want to give them up.  The thought of running with them actually passed my mind as I was walking to place the baby into the social worker’s car.  She had not even brought a car seat for her, so we had to construct a makeshift seat out of her carrier and pray that she would make it safely.  “Run”, I thought, “Run”…but there was no running…because there would be no safe place to which I could run.

We placed Kyra in her carseat in the back of the Tribal representatives car.  I was angry all over again that they sent a man in his 50s or 60s, with no woman to even help soothe a 3 year old being torn from the only home she ever knew. 

We put suckers in each hand, we piled babies and blankets and favorite toys all around her…we sent instructions for what she liked, how she slept best and what would soothe her if she was scared.  I am not sure he listened or even passed on that information. 

“Bye-Bye Grammy” she waved with a fist tightly grasped around her sucker, “Bye-Bye Su-Su”, she grinned.  “Bye-Bye – I see you later!!” she yelled out the window as the car drove off.   Those of us left on an empty driveway knew we had fed her to the wolves that day…but we were powerless to do anything about it except cry and pray…and pray…and pray some more.   I remember thinking surely this was one of the worst nightmares I had witnessed.  I was wrong, it was the second worst.

On Friday, November 6, her new Indian foster father beat her, then waited until Saturday to take her in for medical care.  By that time her brain was already swollen so much even shunts could not reverse the damage to two thirds of her brain.  The sweet little body we had hugged and loved, was covered now in bruises and flea bites.  No one had even been checking to make sure the house was clean…let alone safe.  She was pronounced dead and taken off life support on Tuesday, November 10, 2009. 

I have struggled trying to make sense of this horror, but there are horrors that cannot be explained.  The more I thought about the tragedies she suffered at the hands of people who were supposed to take care of her, the farther into darkness my spirit fell. 

After several days of sadness and darkness, I had to ask the Lord to please take Kyra off of my mind.  Help me to think of something, anything, except the torture she suffered these past months. 

How sweet He was to answer my prayer, only I was surprised by His choice.  Instead of obliterating Kyra from my thoughts, the Lord, my Father, gave me a new picture to think of when the demons of the old thoughts came lurking. 

A picture…a vision…a Hope…to remind us that when we are pronounced dead here, we are pronounced alive in Heaven and there is much rejoicing when we make it home.

So, for all of us touched by this tragedy…allow these thoughts to comfort your soul.

Heaven’s Nursery

(For Kyra…safe and sound)

If we could see past heaven’s gates

I believe that we might find

A very special paradise,

Where every touch is kind.

A sanctified and holy place

Where dwells the least of these,

The damaged, broken little ones

Now safe on Jesus’ knees.

A nursery in Glory’s house

Whose rooms are filled with Light.

Where baby hearts can play and rest

Without the fear of night.

Where every word from Abba’s lips

Speak love and hope and life.

And He, with gentle healing strokes,

Removes the scars life left behind.

Where little darlings dance about

With joy, if so inclined.

With no disturbing memories

To haunt the shadows of her mind.

Blankies snuggle soft and warm

And baby dolls hug extra long,

With pillows softer than a cloud

To lay sweet heads upon.

Giggling sounds fill every room

Along with angel’s lullabies

“You’re home, Dear one.” He whispers soft,

“I’ve claimed you…you are Mine.”

With much love, Precious one. 

LOVE SEES MORE

Love is not blind - it sees more, not less.
But because it sees more,
It is willing to see less.
Rabbi Julius Gordon

I am working on my vision…it is a choice I have made to love deeper. Not a blind love; honest love, a love that sees the truth of a soul and chooses to look past the imperfections and straight to the possibilities. I have the privilege of witnessing testimonies of lifetimes filled with true love. Generations of a family who chose to look each other boldly in the face – or better yet, in the heart – and made the decision that we will love. Through infatuation, right past our weaknesses, beyond even the ugliest parts of us, away from the influence of obsessions so often mistaken for love in Hollywood. We choose love.

Authentic, sincere, bona fide “I am lost without you; I am a better person because of you; You drive me nuts; Get out of my face; I can’t believe you did that; I forgive you; I am thankful for you; Thanks for sticking by me…” kind of love.

Bound not just through ceremonies and rings, but because we are compelled in our spirits to hold onto those things we deem most dear, namely each other.

Blessings of a lineage that has held firm for many years, and now shows its fruition in the lives of the generations that have followed. Not perfect lives, mind you, but much loved lives that have chosen to “see” each other in a different light, or more importantly, Light.

Without even being aware of it for the most part, we have chosen as a family to “see” each other through our Father’s eyes:

Eyes that choose not to focus on the outer parts, but the inner parts
Eyes that have chosen to remember the accomplishments and not the failures.
Eyes that have deliberately looked past embarrassing failures when we have fallen so short of God’s plan for us…not because we are in denial and are ignoring it, but because we choose to see the failure but focus beyond it, and fix our eyes on the possibilities that exist deep in the heart of a broken soul.

Eyes that concentrate on the strengths and potential of each individual being and celebrates those things God delights in as He watches over us.

I love my family and those things that we have chosen to “see” in each other. We have elected to establish a “more” and “less” kind of legacy.

Less of our humanness…More of God’s promise in us
Less accusations….More redemption
Less disappointment…More of our potential
Less of our flaws…More of our attributes
Less grudge holding…More forgiveness, and then a little more forgiveness, and then even more forgiveness…over and over…inside and out…forever and ever…forgiveness.

God is not blind in his love for us. He sees more, not less. And because He sees more…He is willing to see less.


PASS THE WORD



“…I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have drawn you with lovingkindness.” Jer. 31:3

Kisses From The Heart

 No words can adequately express the sorrow of losing a little "light" in a family. No easy, pain-free program to help direct out of the darkness of mourning.  No pill to take to soothe the ache of emptiness in a parents' arms.  It is a grief of such grave depths no mom or dad should ever have to experience. 


This is Jantz...2 years old, loved his stuffed animals, pets, ABC's and story time at night.  The youngest of 5 children doted on by all of the older ones.  Notably, the joy of a family in our community.  But tonight, instead of sitting in his mother's lap for bed time stories, he sits in Jesus' lap. 

Jantz's brother valiantly tried to save his little brother by pulling him out of the family pool...what bravery in one so young himself.


Jantz, however, in the heavenly realm, had already been pulled out by Jesus, who sweetly breathed eternal life into this baby so that he could run and romp and enjoy all of the treasures that heaven has to offer precious little ones whose time on earth is so so short.  While he had just learned to sing his ABC's...today he sings a new song...in a heavenly vocabulary so inspiring we cannot dare to imagine.


Yet, even while we know Jantz runs through heaven squealing with delight at the beauties unfolded before him, it does not diminish the despair of separation.  It will be many months, maybe years, before life becomes more tolerable...it will, however, never be the same.  It will just be a new kind of living.


Perhaps those who are left behind are here to tell the story of these bright "Lights" who are dimmed so early.  To remind each other of the baby who brought such joy and filled their lives.


And in the meantime, instead of lips brushing sweet foreheads or cheeks, his mama and daddy will kiss him with their hearts.  They will hug their sweet memories close and look forward in anticipation for the day they can hold them in their arms again.  


And they will...hold him again one day.  


And that is the only hope that gives the strength to draw breath again each morning without him...that hope for one day.


"...For You are my hope, O Lord God...my confidence...my strong refuge..." Ps. 71


He is our Hope...Pass The Word

ARMOR UP!

TAKE UP THE FULL ARMOR....Eph. 6:10-17


As I was backing out of my daughter's driveway several weeks ago, I noticed she had come running out of the door, waving me down before I drove off to take Jaxson to kindergarten for her. 


I rolled down my window and before I could ask what I had forgotten, she said, "Mom, tell Jaxson to put his armor on!" I was going to ask if I had forgotten a costume or something, when out of the back seat came an all-knowing little 5 year old voice, "Oh YEAH!!  Okay, Mom, I will!"  HE knew exactly what she meant!


She waved and blew kisses at him, and he at her...a bond between a mother and her firstborn is a beautiful sight to behold. 

As I continued to drive out of the neighborhood, I glanced in the rear view mirror to witness Jaxson touch his head in the backseat as he said, "I will put on my "Helmet of Salvation"..."That is so my mind is not afraid," said my precious boy.




He touched his tummy saying, "And I will put on my Breastplate of Righteousness...say it with me, Honey, Breastplate of Righteousness...," and so, of course, I said it!  When a 5 year old tells you to armor up - you do it and don't ask questions!

           I watched as Jaxson pointed to his 

waist and put on

his "Belt of Truth", like he has seen 
in his poster that hangs on the back door so 
that he sees it before 
he leaves the house every day. 

Then he pretended like he was 

slipping on shoes as he put on the 

shoes of the "Gospel of Peace".

Then, because no good soldier goes out

without his weapons, Jaxson waved one 

hand in the air as he took up his shield

of faith.  The other hand followed, flailing wildly as if to 

fight off the unseen forces that would gladly

foil all of the Savior's plans for us.  "Honey, 

do this."  Jaxson said, so I waved my hand 

in the air as well as Jaxson (and I) took up the 

Sword of the Spirit! 

I was close to tears by this time for many reasons...not the least of which was, how many of us are fortunate enough to watch our grandchildren put on the armor of the Lord?   

 I was also so humbled and thankful for a daughter and son-in-law who, in the wisdom of parents convicted of raising their children to be strong leaders, have made sure that their boys do not leave the house without their armor on!  

"Now I am ready, Honey!" proclaimed Jaxson!  "Honey, Mom says we have to make sure 

we have our armor on every day so that we can be strong and courageous for Jesus."

I will never leave my house again without my armor on...

I have been commissioned by a 5 year old!

                        ALL ARMORED UP AND READY FOR THE DAY!  

                                                                       ARE YOU?

                                            ARMOR UP --- PASS THE WORD!

      

No Pumpkins At My House

There will be no pumpkins at my house this fall. My sentry guards at the door, the concrete urns in which stacked pumpkins put on a show of orange topiary, stand empty this year with only the leftover dirt from the summer flowers. The porch has lost its hay stacks with scarecrows and giant gourds and every size of pumpkin snuggled in the hay. The flower beds boast of no cabbage or kale to decorate the walkway. I have one fall wreath from many falls past, but there are no pumpkins at my house this year.

The year 2009 has proven to be a most unusual year, not just for us, for the entire world. It is a time of economic downturn and unplanned changes, along with the ebbs and flows we all experience in the waves of life, good with bad, happy with sad, want with blessings. For us, new career changes that are excitingly hopeful and the anticipation of the dreams we have dreamed. We are so blessed, but there is wisdom in frugality during such times. While fall is my absolute favorite time of year…this is a very unusual fall indeed. So this year we will have no pumpkins.

And yet…while many changes have taken place, and the fall decorations are minimal and bare by choice…there has been a sort of decorating happening that has produced the most beautiful of harvest displays.

The swags of fall flowers usually cascading gracefully around my front door have been replaced with a beautiful garland of FAITHFULNESS. It proclaims, “All who enter here are offered the assurance that there are greater things to come at the hand of the One who has so lavishly provided!” A finer welcome you have never had.

The flower pots, which are usually brimming with armfuls of red and golden mums, are now filled to overflowing with the most striking blossoms of LOVE I have ever seen. Blooms too beautiful to describe with the sweetest fragrance of family and friends who have cheered and supported, prayed and inspired. I do not believe I will ever find fall flowers as beautiful as these again.

I cannot even remember what the haystack used to look like. In its place stands an arresting display of JOY. The pumpkins and gourds replaced with more appealing embellishments. A more intense appreciation of time spent with each other and the encouragement that commitment brings. Holding hands on the front porch, toasty toes by the fire in the chimenea, recounting treasures of memories of those who have loved us and we have loved back. A warming of two hearts devoted to standing the test of time and resting in a hope, not found in things made but in blessings bestowed. Joy only found in the safety of the Father’s hand.

There is no reason to look forward to “good” times. These are the good times.

So, there will be no pumpkins at my house this fall. They would detract from my new decorations.