MOTHERHOOD

"Be sure you know the condition of your flocks, give careful attention to your herd"
(Proverbs 27:23).

When we signed on for this blessing we were thinking small – really cute and small. We really didn’t grasp lifetime in our twenties. Nor did any of us intend to have problems. We were going to love our children and raise them in the Lord and enjoy a long and fruitful life. There’s the key – fruitful! Who knew that nuts were a fruit? And we, cool as we were, would turn into a nut case over clean hands & fingernails, brushed teeth, and toys & clothes picked up. Who knew we would absolutely insist that our sons would use soap AND WATER for their showers and that our daughters would limit their showers to 5 minutes. Paleeze! How could anyone predict that? When we held our little bundles of joy in our arms for the first time how could we imagine turning over the keys to the car? Or what we were going to do when they didn’t make curfew? We could never imagine our pride as we watched our child graduate from high school. Nor could we imagine the pain as we drove them off to college. Or the large departure of funds! Oh my!

Many of us expected to live that perfect timeline of life events adding marriages, grandchildren and family gatherings. What none of us could anticipate were the devastating life events that some families go through in this lifetime and how we as mothers would feel that pain deep in the crevasses of our soul. The actual source of a devastating life events are as varied in number as the stars in the sky. What is constant is the pain in a mother’s heart. It’s not exactly a describable noun but a growing through experience.

A dear friend just experienced the loss of her 23 year old second born son. It was not just the unexpected death but the personal struggles he valiantly battled in his young life that broke this mother’s heart. I can only imagine the pain and I cry too but through life experiences I’ve learned that the loss of a child is not something you heal from. Through the grace of God the pain becomes less loud in your heart over time.

In my mind the loss of a child would be the most difficult and yes I would be comforted knowing my child was with Jesus. If I cut my finger nearly through but there was immediate medical help would that lessen the initial pain? No it would not but knowing Jesus, our immediate help, lessens the pain of the future. We can never measure someone else’s pain not even if we experience the exact same thing. Actually that is quite impossible since we are all individuals with different life prints. We can however carry one another’s burdens.

A pearl to string: God’s Word tell us in Galatians 6-2 to bear one another’s burdens (help each other along this life road) and in first Thessalonians 5:11 to continue to encourage one another and build each other up. We were created to need one another and not go through this life alone. John Milton said: Loneliness is the first thing which God's eye named not good.

Go love on someone who has suffered a loss in their life.
They need your sweetness and the fragrance of the Lord.
Lyndi

A Star in the Window

We applaud our men and women who serve for freedom so gallantly. Our prayers, our admiration and gratitude are never-ending. Our hearts break each time a life falls in service to their country and to their families go our deepest sympathies and a prayer for God to sweetly bless them for their painful sacrifice of their loved one. May God bless and watch over one and all.



The "Sons in Service" flag was used during World War I and World War II. Each family was entitled to hang a small Son In Service flag in their window, the blue star in the center of the red-bordered white rectangle signified a family member in active service. The star was replaced (or covered) with a gold star if the family member died in action. The organization "Gold Star Mothers", women who had lost sons in the war became active in those years.

A Star in the Window

A man was walking along with his grandson when his grandson asked "Why do all these homes have stars in the windows?" The grandfather explained to the son what the star symbolized.

They walked along and every time they passed a home with a star in the window the boy would smile and clap his hands together. Then the boy pointed up to the sky and pointed to a star.

"Look," he said. "God must have given his son too!"

"For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life." (John 3:16)

"Yahshua, hold our troops in your loving hands. Protect them as they protect us. Bless them and their families for the selfless acts they perform for us in our time of need. Amen and amen."

MANNA

Holy Fast Food
The first picture was staged with white beads (3/16 of an inch in diameter) upon the dew in grass. It gives you an idea of what manna would look like. When the manna would fall it would be very deep similar looking to the second picture.



The first morning that God gave the children of Israel bread, they did not know what it was.
It was something they had never seen before. It was like a coriander seed, which is 3/16 of an inch in diameter. It was the color of white as the color of bdellium.
Webster's New Collegiate Dictionary defines bdellium as "a gum or resin, a precious stone, or a pearl".
When they saw it, they said "What is it?" They called the bread, manna. The Hebrew word, manna, means "What is it?"

It’s pretty shocking when you lose your salaried job. That happened to us last week. It makes you want to go”Oh Manna what is this?” After walking around in a daze believing we had to sell everything in order to survive over the long haul my thoughts turned to manna. Ok, I’m strange but God isn’t and He is who I look to in good times and bad times. When the shock wears off you realize that you are not up against anything but as always in God’s care. Prayer keeps our eyes on the Lord and just like the Israelites we receive manna (food from God) for the decisions to be made each day. Trying to figure it all out might get you stinky worms in your brain or something. Well, that happened to the Israelites who took more manna than they needed.

Remember, everything you need for the circumstance you find yourself in is already present in Me. I am your ever present help in time of trouble Psalm 46:1

Pearl to string: I always figured we were to keep our eyes upon Jesus cuz like Peter if we knew we were walking on water we would drowned.

Don’t let life aweigh you down,
You are loved,
Lyndi

Is it the thought that counts?

Well, I thought about you sitting in your very own Lamborghini for your birthday! Does that count?

Possibly not!


In a remote village in Central America the word got out among the peoples of the region that one of the American missionaries that had served this country for many years was about to return to the US to live out the remaining years of her life.

The nationals desired to honor her for her years of service with a public time of appreciation. News of the event went to all parts of the country in which the missionary was known to the people. One very old and very poor man walked to the ceremony over mountainous terrain for 4 days to bring his gift to the missionary.

The gift consisted of 2 coconuts, but it was all the man had. The missionary recognized the man as coming from the remote village in the mountains.

"Brother, I cannot believe that you would walk so far to present me with this gift," said the missionary to the man.

His response? "Long walk part of gift."
- Author Unknown

A pearl to string: Having just experienced a wonderful Mother’s day I’m thinking a long walk together is part of the gift that God has given me. A long walk with my parents, my brothers, my sister, my Coach Wonderful, my children, my daughter’s in law, my grandchildren, my husband’s family, my friends and with my Savior Jesus. The thought does count but the long walk together is the real gift that blesses me.

Joshua 1.9………. "Be strong and of good courage; be not frightened, neither be dismayed; for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go." JOY

Did you know? You are someone else’s treasure
And you are loved,
Lyndi

Happy Mother’s Day

Losing self: It started to happen gradually¦ One day I was walking my son Mike to school. I was holding his hand and we were about to cross the street when the crossing guard said to him, “Who is that with you, young fella?” “Nobody,” he shrugged. Nobody? The crossing guard and I laughed. My son was only 5, but as we crossed the street I thought, “Oh my goodness, nobody?”

After years of mulling over in my mind my ‘nobody-ness’ I had this brilliant idea to trap all four kids in the car and as we went for a nice long drive I would tell them how cool their Mom was before she got married and had four kids. About half an hour into the plan I noticed the oldest had slumped into slumber in the front seat. I checked the rear view mirror and sure enough #2 son – fast asleep and my angel daughter? Sleeping beauty! The baby was awake but he doesn’t understand English – he’s only 3 months. He is smiling – gas I guess. Will they ever know how cool Mom used to be?

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible.

A pearl to string: The Invisible Mother

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.' I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: 'To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'

In the days ahead I would read - no, devour – the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, ’Because God sees.'

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.

The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree. When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving,’ My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand-bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.’ That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home.

And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'you’re gonna love it there.' As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women. Author Invisible

To all my fellow cathedral builders - I see you
You are loved,
Lyndi

New York Times Story

A Sporting Gesture Touches ’Em All

By GEORGE VECSEY
Published: April 30, 2008

Something remarkable happened in a college softball game last Saturday in Ellensburg, Wash. At least, I am conditioned to think it was remarkable, since it involved an act of sportsmanship, with two players helping an injured opponent complete the home run she had just slugged.


Sara Tucholsky of Western Oregon being carried around
the bases by Central Washington’s Liz Wallace, left,
and Mallory Holtman.

Why this generous act should seem so unusual probably stems from the normal range of bulked-up baseball players, police-blotter football players, diving soccer and hockey players and other high-profile professionals.

The moment of grace came after Sara Tucholsky, a diminutive senior for Western Oregon, hit what looked like a three-run homer against Central Washington. Never in her 21 years had Tucholsky propelled a ball over a fence, so she did not have her home run trot in order, gazing in awe, missing first base. When she turned back to touch the bag, her right knee buckled, and she went down, crying and crawling back to first base.

Pam Knox, the Western Oregon coach, made sure no teammates touched Tucholsky, which would have automatically made her unable to advance. The umpires ruled that if Tucholsky could not make it around the bases, two runs would score but she would be credited with only a single. (“She’ll kill me if I take it away from her,” Knox thought.)

Then Mallory Holtman, the powerful first baseman for Central Washington, said words that brought a chill to everybody who heard them:

“Excuse me, would it be O.K. if we carried her around and she touched each bag?”

The umpires huddled and said it would be legal, so Holtman and the Central Washington shortstop, Liz Wallace, lifted Tucholsky, hands crossed under her, and carried her to second base, and gently lowered her so she could touch the base. Then Holtman and Wallace started to giggle, and so did Tucholsky, through her tears, and the three of them continued this odd procession to third base and home to a standing ovation.

“Everybody was crying,” Knox recalled on Tuesday. “It was an away game, and our four fans were crying. We couldn’t hit after that.”

The extra run made it easier for Western Oregon to win the second game, 4-2, and sweep the doubleheader. More important, all involved realized they had taken part in an event they would always remember. (Credit where credit is due: I heard about this incident via Jared Max on WCBS-AM news radio Tuesday morning and later I found a nice article by Graham Hays on ESPN.com before making my own calls.)

The question is, where did it come from, this impulsive gesture by Mallory Holtman?

“She hit it over the fence,” Holtman said Tuesday. “She deserved it. Anybody would have done it. I just beat them to it.” She said she had been taught by her coach, Gary Frederick, that “winning is not everything.”


Is there something intrinsic to women’s sports that caused this generosity? Holtman, nearly 23, did not think so. “Not many people are ever in that position,” she said. “I would hope that our baseball players would do it.”

Knox, the Western Oregon coach, said the act “came from character.”

“They’re playing for a coach who instills it,” she said.

Knox said she absolutely would not say this demonstrated some major difference between women’s and men’s sports: “As coaches, we are so competitive, we forget this stuff. By God, I would hope I would have done the same thing.”

Would the Oakland A’s have carried a sore-legged Kirk Gibson around the bases to complete his two-run homer that gave the Dodgers a 5-4 comeback victory in the opening game of the 1988 World Series? My guess is that if Gibson had crumpled in the dirt, Tony La Russa (or Billy Martin or Leo Durocher or Earl Weaver or just about any manager) would have said, “Let him lie there.” But let’s grant that those stakes are much higher.

We’ve all seen sportsmanship at a high level. Golf depends upon personal adherence to the rules. In tennis a player occasionally yields a point — not usually at a crucial moment — producing a sweet little patter of applause.

In 1999, Arsène Wenger, the French coach of Arsenal of the English Premier League, insisted upon a replay of a cup match after a young Arsenal player had unwittingly set up a goal in violation of the unwritten code when an opponent is injured. So maybe sportsmanship is universal, out there, needing to be cultivated.

“It’s amazing what they did,” Tucholsky said of the Central Washington players Tuesday, while facing what she assumes will be the first surgery of her 21 years for what is suspected to be a torn ligament.


“Mallory didn’t know it was my first home run,” said Tucholsky, whose college career will end with a .153 batting average and exactly one home run. “It just says a lot about them.”

Tucholsky was too immobile to join the handshake line at the end of the game Saturday, but her family has been in touch with Holtman, photographs have been exchanged, the two teams are wrapped in a bond of good feeling we can only wish did not seem so singular, so remarkable.