For God So Loved

Walker ignores the dickens out of me when I tell him I love him. I do this often. He can be playing, sitting in his car seat, eating, doing something silly or sweet, or just being. Most of the time, he doesn’t even look up or acknowledge my voice. If I grab him up and smother him with kisses, he just squirms and tries to get away. Cuddle with him? Ha! The boy is not interested in Granny’s expressions of love. Except…

Except when he hurts. Just let him fall down or bump his little hard head. Then he wants me, my hugs, my kisses on where it hurts. But once the momentary pain has passed, so has he. On to the next big adventure. He knows Granny is there when he hurts. But there’s too much to do to bask in this love for long.

Oh sure, we have good times. Sometimes, out of the blue, Walker reaches up and kisses me. Or he will bring my hand to his cherub bud lips for a quick smooch. When it’s time to say goodbye, he’ll “give me some love.” This consists of allowing himself to be hugged, offering his cheek for a kiss, and sometimes patting my arm. Often he’ll rest his sweet little head on my shoulder, but only briefly. Remember: he’s a busy man!

So, does this remind you of anyone? Perhaps yourself? It sure does remind me of me. God loves me so much! He tells me over and over in a variety of ways throughout my day. Sometimes it’s an audible voice; other times it’s in the way He responds to my needs. When I fall down in my daily walk, when I get boo boos that hurt, He is the first One I go running to. I’ll let Him hold me and comfort me, kiss the pains away. Sometimes I will linger because it feels so good to be in His arms. But what about the other times, the times when I am too busy to pay attention to His sweet expressions of love? The times at night when I finally give Him my undivided attention while I pray and tell Him what I need tomorrow and, oh yeah, thanks for what You did today? Too many times I give Him only enough love in return to "do my duty" in keeping the peace.

What about the times throughout the day when I am not doing anything spectacular and just, out of the blue, He whispers He loves me? I tend to be like Walker and just go on about my business. The gentle touches, the helping hand that I don’t always acknowledge but sure expect to be there when I am climbing up my steps. The blankie being pulled up over me so that I stay warm. Making sure my cup is filled. Ahh, how my blessings runneth over.

These gestures are only a sampling of what I do—consciously and unconsciously—for my loved one. How wonderful that the expressions our Lord uses are always thought about, always ready, and always filled with love!

Inconvenient Tears

Inconvenient tears fall
At inconvenient times
While driving down the road
or when a song comes on the radio that I haven't heard in a while
that makes me remember you

How am I supposed to drive through the torrents that are streaming from my eyes
or how am I supposed to nod at the person next to me in traffic and act as though my heart isn't suddenly breaking

These tears come at chance moments and I still find that I am not prepared for the loss I feel when the sudden jolts hit
It's been a year now since you left
It's been a year since...
It doesn't make sense

Timing is everything, or so some say
Our time is gone
You are gone
Why is it that now, when I have the time, the opportunity to mourn, the tears are hiding, waiting to ambush me, wanting to catch me off guard so that I can once again cry
inconvenient tears






Written in memory of Mary Byrd, my sister, who passed away August 28, 2008.

In Sickness and in Health

Usually one hears these words at a marriage ceremony. The bride and the groom vow to love one another, basically no matter what comes, what life throws at them, they will always be there for one another. Lately though, I’ve been pondering these words as a testament of a love for anyone, not just of the romantic sort.

For instance, many people get into fusses, spats, and alienate themselves from one another, refusing to forgive, to make up, to be a part of a friendship. Whether the argument is over a small incident or of a more lasting hurt, the two parties involved will not on this side of God’s heaven make up. Until. Until a sickness or perhaps near death experience occurs. Suddenly, for some, the rules change. Nothing is too bad to be forgiven. I can’t believe I’ve wasted all this time being upset over blah blah blah. Please don’t die and leave me behind with all of this angst. Please forgive me. The list goes on and on.

So, what is one to do? Why does the thought of someone dying or being hospitalized somehow entitle this temporary stay of execution to be had? Why is sickness somehow relegated to overcome pride yet if one is healthy the attempt is rarely made? Why if the love is there can it not show itself in sickness and in health?

Guilt is my guess. The thought of the loved one dying is overcome by feelings of regret, hopes of reconciliation, or some other nonsense that is clouded by emotion rather than truth. It always amazes me how many people can find time to attend a funeral but not time to visit when their family member is alive and well (or maybe sick, in a nursing home, or just at home wondering if anyone really cares). Oh, the crocodile tears, the sharing of how wonderful this soul was and how I wish I could have been there for him/her. The excuses abound as to why attention couldn’t be paid during the good times, the times when presence was needed, and the loved one could actually know s/he was indeed loved.

The good thing for me is that God doesn’t see things this way. He’s always ready to forgive, to accept the sheep back into the flock, to extend His hand of warmth and acceptance when we call upon His name. He’s not cynical and dispassionate as I tend to be. He loves unconditionally: in sickness and in health. Though He’s been neglected, forgotten, disdained, disowned, and a myriad of other actions we—His children!!—put Him through, He still is waiting, hoping, believing that we will return to Him. He doesn’t hold a grudge. He doesn’t whine that nobody loves Him. God does not play hard to get and doesn’t expect us to flower Him with attention and try to make up for our mistakes with false promises and empty truths. God just wants His children to come home to Him. Sure, He’d rather us come while we are healthy and not so sin-soaked. He’d rather us live daily for Him rather than meet us on our death beds when we finally see the light and realize how much time we wasted on our petty selves. But, in the end, He will still accept us, no questions asked, other than “Do you believe my Son died for your sins, that you are a sinner in need of a Savior, and do you confess that I am He?” If we can respond in the affirmative, then the ultimate reconciliation is to be had.

In conclusion, when are we going to get real about this Christianity thing? Do we have to wait until death or sickness occurs to extend our own hands of forgiveness, of acceptance, of love? Do we? It doesn’t have to be this way. Pride is a lonely companion to have. Fear is a friend we aren’t supposed to associate with. Despair is what keeps many of us alone in our love-starved existences. Are these really the friends we want? Don’t they always leave us alone, leave us saddened, bitter, and alienated from the ones we desire the most to be with? I think it may be time, past time, to say goodbye to these “friends” and renew auld acquaintances with those we have chosen to leave behind. Is what we have to lose by taking the risk of rejection any worse than being what we are now: miserable, spiteful, depressed, dejected, and solitary beings? You tell me.