Mountains

We often head to the mountains.

This year’s sighting of our first mountain brought to mind a funny story. My daughter’s 5-year-old son had been asked at school to list all he was thankful for in life. The teacher reading his thankfulness was quick to notice the absence of an important figure. She prompted him with the “mmm” sound to add one more. After great thought, he added “mountains” to his list.

This hurt his little momma’s feelings.

A lot had made the list.  Mountains made the list.

But, not Momma.

With little time for fun and getting off-schedule when operating a home, mommas can sure feel like the bad guy.  With little time for rollicking and frolicking, mommas can get zero recognition for this full-time job.  Mommas just aren’t typically the fun parent.

This momma fears her responsibility, organization and structure disguises her as a fuddy-duddy.

But that doesn’t fool any grown adult.  This little momma has a hidden superpower.

It’s called faith.

You want to know what faith can move?

Mmm.

Mountains.

Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, if you had faith even as small as a mustard seed, you could say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there’ and it would move.  Nothing would be impossible.”

Mommas have little time for molehills.

They’re doing the impossible.

Moving mountains.

Read: Matthew 17:20; Mark 11:23

My Father

Anniversary dates have their way of calling to remembrance.

January 14 is one of those dates.

I don’t often like to look back on things that are gone. I’m not one to perseverate.  But, I almost always work to schedule reminiscing on anniversary dates, because I also don’t want to forget.

This was the date of my father’s last day.

I think back to Mom standing beside his hospital bed in those last moments and repositioning his pillow.  One of the last things she would have ever done for him.  She noticed lent and couldn’t let it stay.  She tucked him in a little tighter under his sheets.  She knew he’d be cold.  His later years brought him constant cold.  I couldn’t help but pay attention to his five foot nothing frame underneath his bedding and thought what a giant this man was. My father’s presence was larger than life.

Mom removed a latex glove to swipe his hair across his forehead with her fingertips. He knew this touch.  I imagined even needing it.  She didn’t say anything as she repeated this motion.  I knew her mind was occupied.  I suspect it was replaying the sixty-six years of marital memories that was coming to its end. Likely those memories only the two of them shared.  Likely those no one else need know.

I can’t help but think back to my father’s life that now feels so heroic.  A man who used his years so nobly to guard his children. His prudent protections spared us from childhood tragedies. His shrewd safekeeping spared us from a life of any lamentable affairs. He was our passionate protector. He never absolved himself from any responsibility or duty to do what was right at the time and cared less what others thought in the present to do what was best for our future.

He gave us a life worth remembering not regretting.  He left us a past to treasure not history to hide.

It’s to his good Lord and mine that I give great thanks.

Indeed, the means for an imposing figure.

Read:  1 Corinthians 15:57

Reign

I hear the rain.

You have poured this over us for the hundredth-millionth time.

It can feel cleansing.

Reminding us You reign.

When a lot is going on.

You reign.

When we want to kick up the dirt.

You reign.

I hear it pour.

When sighing has become our daily food and our groans pour out like water.

You reign.

When we’re flooded with complaints and pour out our troubles.

You reign.

Quench our thirst, O God.

Pour out Your Spirit.

Let it reign.

Read:  Isaiah 44:3, Job 3:24

Allergies

Irritation.  Redness.  Swollenness.  Itchiness.  Prick test.  Patch test.

Allergies!

Mine is unknown.  It only occurs around the eyes.  It’s been a year.  I have an exhaustive list of all that’s been eliminated. Nothing is conclusive, but I was told most recently the allergy could be  “fragrance”.

I thought, well that stinks!

Have you ever had to pay any particular attention to an ingredient list?  Fragrance is everywhere. It’s in everything.

It’s potentially toxic to me.

I was so bummed imagining the absence of fragrance and what to do.   I have literally and most recently chased down a woman in a store to find out what perfume she was wearing.  And, now to never possess a signature scent!

But, oh!  Wait a spritzer!

We’re told, “Our lives are a fragrance presented by Christ to God.”

It’s not the perfume.

It’s our lives that are to be sweet-smelling. 

Underline “our lives”.

“He uses us to tell others about the Lord and to spread the Good News like a sweet perfume.”

Oh, God?  Who is adequate for such a task as this?  I’m pretty sure of the likely stench of this on me.  I doubt anyone will be following me down an aisle to get a whiff of this.

“But Christ loved and gave Himself as a sacrifice to take away our sins and God was pleased.”

He calls it, “sweet perfume.”

It’s His signature scent.

Read: 2 Corinthians 2:14-17; Ephesians 5:2; Romans 15:16 (NLT)