"Are we going to have a foot-washing?" I whispered to my husband when I saw the altar lined with hundreds of small, folded towels this morning. I had recently seen pictures of a Kids' Church service at our granddaughter's church in Texas, where they are preparing for Easter by acting out scenes of the night when Jesus was betrayed and He washed the disciple's feet. The children were "washing" one another's feet with wet-wipes. Turns out our towels were "service" towels and handed out to the congregation.
Our church has started a campaign to "Get Involved." Posters have been put around the walls listing 39 areas of service available, with invitations open for additional ministries which others may feel drawn to. Being fairly new to this congregation and involved in only a few activities, we studied the sheets and took some to consider and pray about. (At my age, it is tempting to leave things to others, while I concentrate on planning trips to see my scattered family and rest between times!)
I do try to practice random deeds of kindness, though, in everyday little events and opportunities. Such as today when our order at the restaurant was a little mixed up, and when I asked for something, our waitress got distracted, even joining in a birthday song at another table while I waited. When she brought it after a reminder, I controlled my urge to complain, thanking her and saying I knew how busy she was. I'm sure my husband left her a tip.
I was so touched when my daughter wrote about her 12-year-old's desire to do something for homeless people. She wanted to make a blessing jar filled with snacks, necessities and nice-to-have items for the less fortunate. This would in be a re-usable, plastic gallon jug. She made a long list of things to have in it, considering and deliberating over each item and its cost.
This very serious and spiritual child would not budge from her impressions that these items were what she should include, even though her parents made suggestions. She did agree that they could share this vision with the church and make it available for donations. Soon she had her blessing jar full, hand-printed a personal note, copied John 3:16, and wrote out the plan of salvation and encouraging words for the recipient and included them in the jar.
A minister/singer friend of mine from Mississippi, also a Facebook friend, mentioned that when she drove into a McDonald's parking lot recently, she noticed a cat prowling around hungrily. She was touched with compassion and went in and bought the cat a fish-burger! She said when she retires she plans to have a place for homeless animals.
Given under the guise of joking, I suppose, I was stung the other day by a derisive remark made to me. I didn't respond, however, willing myself to practice kindness. Although I stewed over it while trying to sleep that night, I finally felt at peace when I turned it over to the Lord. The next morning I was amazed to read this scripture shared on Facebook: "No weapon that is formed against thee will prosper; and every tongue that shall rise up against thee in judgment thou shalt condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord, and their righteousness is of me, saith the Lord."
Although getting involved in the Lord's service at the church is wonderful, we are always called upon to be involved with care, concern, and kindness at a personal level, even figuratively washing someone's feet. Doubt and discouragement may come in, but if God is with us, who can be against us?
Sunday, March 8, 2015
Friday, March 6, 2015
Heartthoughts: A Sower Went out to Sow...
"A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver," Proverbs 25:11. Howard came out of the bank smiling. We had recently opened an account there since our previous bank had relocated to another city. We had gotten acquainted with the friendly, young accounts manager, and learned she was a believer and had even done missions work.
My husband carries scripture cards he has had printed almost everywhere he goes. When he concluded his business, he had given the lady one of them. "You should have heard what she said when she read it!" he exclaimed. "She said, 'You don't know how I needed this today!' and hugged me!"
I looked at the card and saw the words from Psalm 91:10-11, "There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any evil come nigh thy dwelling. For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways." Howard said there was much hustling and bustling, arranging of flowers and fluttering about in the bank as employees readied everything for their grand opening later that morning. I could imagine the tension and pressure the girl was under. No wonder she gave him a hug of appreciation!
A little later, we were checking out from a store, the cashier keeping up a bright chatter--for our benefit, I could tell. I was pushing the cart back in place when I noticed Howard handing her one of the cards. She looked at it, and the empty facade of cheer faded as the worry-lined face softened. "Oh, you don't know how I needed this today!" she murmured.
Then at the counter when I was returning an item at Walmart, we chatted with an acquaintance working there, and Howard gave her the scripture card. She read the words he had printed at the top that say, "Keep this--When the pressure gets on, pull this out and read it--" followed by the verses in Psalms. "I will!" she exclaimed as we walked away.
"For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater:
So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it." Isaiah 55:10-11.
My husband carries scripture cards he has had printed almost everywhere he goes. When he concluded his business, he had given the lady one of them. "You should have heard what she said when she read it!" he exclaimed. "She said, 'You don't know how I needed this today!' and hugged me!"
I looked at the card and saw the words from Psalm 91:10-11, "There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any evil come nigh thy dwelling. For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways." Howard said there was much hustling and bustling, arranging of flowers and fluttering about in the bank as employees readied everything for their grand opening later that morning. I could imagine the tension and pressure the girl was under. No wonder she gave him a hug of appreciation!
A little later, we were checking out from a store, the cashier keeping up a bright chatter--for our benefit, I could tell. I was pushing the cart back in place when I noticed Howard handing her one of the cards. She looked at it, and the empty facade of cheer faded as the worry-lined face softened. "Oh, you don't know how I needed this today!" she murmured.
Then at the counter when I was returning an item at Walmart, we chatted with an acquaintance working there, and Howard gave her the scripture card. She read the words he had printed at the top that say, "Keep this--When the pressure gets on, pull this out and read it--" followed by the verses in Psalms. "I will!" she exclaimed as we walked away.
"For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater:
So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it." Isaiah 55:10-11.
Thursday, March 5, 2015
The Middle
"Daddy, am I still the middle child?" my five-year-old granddaughter asked her father. I guess she's still getting used to her new status since her baby brother was born 15 months ago. I'm not sure if she thinks it's a favored position or a less desirable one!
There are many studies that show birth order has a big influence on who we are and the effect it has on our personality. Typically, firstborns are leaders, conscientious, and mature, as compared to secondborns who tend to be happy-go-lucky, outgoing and a little rebellious. All, supposedly, because of the way they are treated by their parents, who are probably up-tight with the first, and relaxed with the second and succeeding children. And parents may treat the first child like a little adult, while the others are allowed more childlike ways.
Lastborns, as the baby of the family, are often the favored child, especially as seen in the eyes of their siblings. My husband was a lastborn, also a third child. However, there was considerable space between him and his two brothers, so he grew up more like a first or only child, but still with some benefits of the "baby."
Our son, Benjamin (aka Jamie) was the youngest of six. I, also, was a sixth child. But I think I felt more like a middle child, in that I felt lost in the shuffle of five older siblings and five younger ones. In a way, being an older sister to five younger brothers made me feel like a first child, while being the younger sister of the others, the "baby girl," probably made me a little dependent.
The boy-girl-boy, boy-girl-boy, configuration of my children's births no doubt had some effect on their environment. The first child followed the typical pattern of oldest child: responsible, serious, mature, while the second one was definitely more laid back. The close proximity in age of the two middle boys caused a natural alliance of friendship between them. The last two were almost like only children, being boy and girl with little common interests. Our daughter was precise and serious, but the "baby" was laid back and care free, for the most part.
A niece of mine and friend on Facebook keyed in on some references to childhood events I had made in a blog, and soon we were comparing her memories from her late mother, one of my sisters. She was older than me, so many of my thoughts were from the frame of reference of a younger sister. But as I grew up, my sister related to me as a teen, and finally as a contemporary after we were married. To her children, I am an aunt from an older generation, although they feel more like contemporaries to me.
First, middle or last of a dozen, we are all special to God. He knew us before we were even conceived, Jeremiah 1:5, "Before I formed thee in the belly I knew thee." Psalm 139:13-18 speaks of God's oversight and care for us before we were born. These psalms by David say we are fearfully and wonderfully made and that God thinks of us constantly.
"For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end," Jeremiah 29:11. (Some versions say "to give you a hope and a future.") So whether Maddie is still the middle child or not, she can rest assured she is still in the middle of God's thoughts and plans for her!
There are many studies that show birth order has a big influence on who we are and the effect it has on our personality. Typically, firstborns are leaders, conscientious, and mature, as compared to secondborns who tend to be happy-go-lucky, outgoing and a little rebellious. All, supposedly, because of the way they are treated by their parents, who are probably up-tight with the first, and relaxed with the second and succeeding children. And parents may treat the first child like a little adult, while the others are allowed more childlike ways.
Lastborns, as the baby of the family, are often the favored child, especially as seen in the eyes of their siblings. My husband was a lastborn, also a third child. However, there was considerable space between him and his two brothers, so he grew up more like a first or only child, but still with some benefits of the "baby."
Our son, Benjamin (aka Jamie) was the youngest of six. I, also, was a sixth child. But I think I felt more like a middle child, in that I felt lost in the shuffle of five older siblings and five younger ones. In a way, being an older sister to five younger brothers made me feel like a first child, while being the younger sister of the others, the "baby girl," probably made me a little dependent.
The boy-girl-boy, boy-girl-boy, configuration of my children's births no doubt had some effect on their environment. The first child followed the typical pattern of oldest child: responsible, serious, mature, while the second one was definitely more laid back. The close proximity in age of the two middle boys caused a natural alliance of friendship between them. The last two were almost like only children, being boy and girl with little common interests. Our daughter was precise and serious, but the "baby" was laid back and care free, for the most part.
A niece of mine and friend on Facebook keyed in on some references to childhood events I had made in a blog, and soon we were comparing her memories from her late mother, one of my sisters. She was older than me, so many of my thoughts were from the frame of reference of a younger sister. But as I grew up, my sister related to me as a teen, and finally as a contemporary after we were married. To her children, I am an aunt from an older generation, although they feel more like contemporaries to me.
First, middle or last of a dozen, we are all special to God. He knew us before we were even conceived, Jeremiah 1:5, "Before I formed thee in the belly I knew thee." Psalm 139:13-18 speaks of God's oversight and care for us before we were born. These psalms by David say we are fearfully and wonderfully made and that God thinks of us constantly.
"For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end," Jeremiah 29:11. (Some versions say "to give you a hope and a future.") So whether Maddie is still the middle child or not, she can rest assured she is still in the middle of God's thoughts and plans for her!
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
Spring Tonic
Why stay in the house and be uninspired on yet another snow day? How much more fun to sit in McDonald's and have the place practically to ourselves, sitting on the curved seating at a round table in front of flat-screen wall TVs with the latest news and weather? Weather we could watch out the plate glass windows in a panoramic view of almost-horizontal, north-wind-driven snow? Besides that, the burger and fries lunch was good in the bright, cheery setting, and the apple pies were tasty!
"Ma'am, did you mean to leave your purse over there?" a man asked over my shoulder. We had moved from a booth to our present seat, and sure enough, there was my purse behind me!
"Oh, thank you!" I exclaimed as he handed it to me. He must have been the only other customer, and as he left I saw a Dish-TV logos on his shirt. "You have done your good deed for the day!" I called after him. Thank God for nice people!
The snow was letting up, and Howard said he wasn't ready to go home yet, so we opted to browse in Hobby Lobby. Talk about inspiring! Spring was bursting out all over inside with Easter decor in full bloom! I went one way, taking my time, filling my senses with the colors, novelty, and delight of imaginative merchandise in the all-enveloping background of soft, sweet hymns while my husband headed to office supplies.
I marveled at, deliberated over and considered any number of items, from lovely ceramics, to wall art, to furniture and musical greeting cards before my interest waned and I grew tired. I found Howard still in office supplies, but he guided me to some things that had caught his eye in the decor area: Filling station signs, a decorative tractor that could be the twin of the one in our son's farm pasture, and a molded acrylic cowboy holding what I thought was a miniature rolling pin. "Is he a chuck-wagon cook?" I asked, then I laughed when he pointed out it was a bathroom tissue holder!
I still hadn't bought anything, but I selected a miniature Easter display of tiny eggs and flowers in a rustic pail at 40% off. Then I saw a sign that read, 90% off! A beautiful brocade, fringed pillow that would look perfect on my brown leather sofa! There were two, but I just took one. Now I realize two would be better, so I may go back for the other one. The frigid wind that took our breath away as we stepped outside made us glad to hurry back to our cozy home, so welcoming and pleasant viewed from a new perspective that getting out of the house is sure to bring!
"Ma'am, did you mean to leave your purse over there?" a man asked over my shoulder. We had moved from a booth to our present seat, and sure enough, there was my purse behind me!
"Oh, thank you!" I exclaimed as he handed it to me. He must have been the only other customer, and as he left I saw a Dish-TV logos on his shirt. "You have done your good deed for the day!" I called after him. Thank God for nice people!
The snow was letting up, and Howard said he wasn't ready to go home yet, so we opted to browse in Hobby Lobby. Talk about inspiring! Spring was bursting out all over inside with Easter decor in full bloom! I went one way, taking my time, filling my senses with the colors, novelty, and delight of imaginative merchandise in the all-enveloping background of soft, sweet hymns while my husband headed to office supplies.
I marveled at, deliberated over and considered any number of items, from lovely ceramics, to wall art, to furniture and musical greeting cards before my interest waned and I grew tired. I found Howard still in office supplies, but he guided me to some things that had caught his eye in the decor area: Filling station signs, a decorative tractor that could be the twin of the one in our son's farm pasture, and a molded acrylic cowboy holding what I thought was a miniature rolling pin. "Is he a chuck-wagon cook?" I asked, then I laughed when he pointed out it was a bathroom tissue holder!
I still hadn't bought anything, but I selected a miniature Easter display of tiny eggs and flowers in a rustic pail at 40% off. Then I saw a sign that read, 90% off! A beautiful brocade, fringed pillow that would look perfect on my brown leather sofa! There were two, but I just took one. Now I realize two would be better, so I may go back for the other one. The frigid wind that took our breath away as we stepped outside made us glad to hurry back to our cozy home, so welcoming and pleasant viewed from a new perspective that getting out of the house is sure to bring!
Tuesday, March 3, 2015
Heartthoughts: Sisters
In a blog the other day, I mentioned something that jogged the memory of a niece, reading it in another state. In a response to her comment I said I recollected the incident she was referring to about her mom, several years older than me, and her then boyfriend, my niece's future dad. I remembered that he had a car and loved to do "donuts" to impress her and us kids.
I didn't tell her about the time on the hot summer day when they and some of the older kids decided to go swimming at the COAL PITS! A popular, but daring, swimming place with deep, blue water and decidedly more adventurous than the Salty Dog, our more mundane swimming hole, which had a shallow, sandy bottom slanting to deeper water below an embankment great for jumping from.
Being only six years old, I was excluded from the swimming venture, but I begged to go anyway. Finally, when they weren't looking, I got into her boyfriend's car and hid down in the floor of the back seat. Things were going "swimmingly," me listening to their chatter from the front seat and thinking maybe I should make my presence known. I popped up, to their surprise and annoyance, and I think it was a half-donut he did to take me home!
My niece also recalled a story my sister had told her of her teen years. I didn't remember this story, but I could relate. It seems our mother had made a big supper and invited my future brother-in-law to eat with them. As I noted in my blog, drinking glasses were scarce in our household, and my sister was embarrassed when she saw that each place was set with a tin can! He didn't mind, but she wouldn't come to the table.
I thought of the time when I was a teenager and my brothers invited Howard over to spend the night at our house. They knew him from school before I met him, but I liked him and had admired him from a distance at church. I was highly uncomfortable and embarrassed that he was there, and I stayed in my room, not even going to breakfast the next morning because of my curlers! (He said he kept looking for me and wondering where I was.)
Howard loved my family dearly, with its houseful of boys and activity, and I finally got used to his presence. We've been married nearly 57 years, and my sister was married at least 50 years. When they were first married and even after her babies came along, she would often take me home with her, cut my hair and give me a perm, buy a pattern and material and make me a dress, or just take me shopping or to a movie. I looked up to my beautiful, talented big sister, and I cherish her memory.
I didn't tell her about the time on the hot summer day when they and some of the older kids decided to go swimming at the COAL PITS! A popular, but daring, swimming place with deep, blue water and decidedly more adventurous than the Salty Dog, our more mundane swimming hole, which had a shallow, sandy bottom slanting to deeper water below an embankment great for jumping from.
Being only six years old, I was excluded from the swimming venture, but I begged to go anyway. Finally, when they weren't looking, I got into her boyfriend's car and hid down in the floor of the back seat. Things were going "swimmingly," me listening to their chatter from the front seat and thinking maybe I should make my presence known. I popped up, to their surprise and annoyance, and I think it was a half-donut he did to take me home!
My niece also recalled a story my sister had told her of her teen years. I didn't remember this story, but I could relate. It seems our mother had made a big supper and invited my future brother-in-law to eat with them. As I noted in my blog, drinking glasses were scarce in our household, and my sister was embarrassed when she saw that each place was set with a tin can! He didn't mind, but she wouldn't come to the table.
I thought of the time when I was a teenager and my brothers invited Howard over to spend the night at our house. They knew him from school before I met him, but I liked him and had admired him from a distance at church. I was highly uncomfortable and embarrassed that he was there, and I stayed in my room, not even going to breakfast the next morning because of my curlers! (He said he kept looking for me and wondering where I was.)
Howard loved my family dearly, with its houseful of boys and activity, and I finally got used to his presence. We've been married nearly 57 years, and my sister was married at least 50 years. When they were first married and even after her babies came along, she would often take me home with her, cut my hair and give me a perm, buy a pattern and material and make me a dress, or just take me shopping or to a movie. I looked up to my beautiful, talented big sister, and I cherish her memory.
Sunday, March 1, 2015
Improvisation
"I love this cereal," my husband said as he was eating a bowl of Cheerios for a bedtime snack last night. "When I was little, I called them wheels. I'd tell my dad, 'Bring me home some wheels!'" His dad had a grocery store, so I guess it was no problem.
"I never ate them as a child," I reflected. "All we had was Post Toasties (corn flakes) or Mother's Oats." Actually, it was mostly oats, that and cornmeal mush, because corn flakes were gone in one setting with eight of us kids slurping them down.
Howard had poured the cereal from one of his new containers we had bought on our trip. We had accompanied Jamie's family on a trip to Sam's, and since there is no Sam's in our small town, we always enjoy gazing at the merchandise there. He had spotted a pack of three nice storage containers with pour-spout lids. When we got home, he purchased new cereal for them and lined them up neatly on the top shelf.
Must be our age, but more and more we find ourselves nostalgic about the past. When we saw a Mason-jar-like drinking set at Sam's, he insisted we get that, too! It was cute, with striped straws sticking out of the colored lids and a Velcro burlap strip lettered with catchy sayings around the jar. As kids, my siblings and I drank from Mason jars, which we broke regularly, then it was Mama's vegetable tin cans that didn't break! (No doubt the forerunners of the colorful aluminum tumblers popular in the fifties!)
An old saying of leaner times was, "Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without." What with our being semi-confined with snow for several days, I find myself practicing that a bit. Making cookies would be a pleasant way to fill an afternoon, I mused, but I lacked a few ingredients, like butter. I had found a partial bag of miniature chocolate chips, left over from the chocolate chip pancakes I had made for grandchildren once.
Throwing caution to the wind, I poured the last of my biscuit mix into a bowl, worked in a little Country Crock spread, added an egg, sugar, a bit of milk, soda and the chocolate chips, then dropped spoonfuls onto a cookie sheet. (I forgot vanilla, which I did have.) Amazingly, the cookies were delicious! Brown, crispy and sweet, with tiny bursts of chocolate!
"I guess we can call these 'bookies,'" I quipped to my munching husband. Then I said they reminded me of tea cakes, to which he said "tea biscuits," which is what they called tea cakes in Mississippi. Whatever we called them, they got eaten, and, thankfully, I finally did get to the store for butter and other things! Thankfully, because we got several inches of snow yesterday, which is frozen today.
Looking out the window, remarking how snowy it is, I thought of the poem by Robert Frost, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening. In it, he talks about "the sweep of easy wind and downy flake," a scene evoking relaxation in the comfort of a cozy house with tea cakes on a plate, a Mason jar on a tray, and enough memories to keep us warm!
"I never ate them as a child," I reflected. "All we had was Post Toasties (corn flakes) or Mother's Oats." Actually, it was mostly oats, that and cornmeal mush, because corn flakes were gone in one setting with eight of us kids slurping them down.
Howard had poured the cereal from one of his new containers we had bought on our trip. We had accompanied Jamie's family on a trip to Sam's, and since there is no Sam's in our small town, we always enjoy gazing at the merchandise there. He had spotted a pack of three nice storage containers with pour-spout lids. When we got home, he purchased new cereal for them and lined them up neatly on the top shelf.
Must be our age, but more and more we find ourselves nostalgic about the past. When we saw a Mason-jar-like drinking set at Sam's, he insisted we get that, too! It was cute, with striped straws sticking out of the colored lids and a Velcro burlap strip lettered with catchy sayings around the jar. As kids, my siblings and I drank from Mason jars, which we broke regularly, then it was Mama's vegetable tin cans that didn't break! (No doubt the forerunners of the colorful aluminum tumblers popular in the fifties!)
An old saying of leaner times was, "Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without." What with our being semi-confined with snow for several days, I find myself practicing that a bit. Making cookies would be a pleasant way to fill an afternoon, I mused, but I lacked a few ingredients, like butter. I had found a partial bag of miniature chocolate chips, left over from the chocolate chip pancakes I had made for grandchildren once.
Throwing caution to the wind, I poured the last of my biscuit mix into a bowl, worked in a little Country Crock spread, added an egg, sugar, a bit of milk, soda and the chocolate chips, then dropped spoonfuls onto a cookie sheet. (I forgot vanilla, which I did have.) Amazingly, the cookies were delicious! Brown, crispy and sweet, with tiny bursts of chocolate!
"I guess we can call these 'bookies,'" I quipped to my munching husband. Then I said they reminded me of tea cakes, to which he said "tea biscuits," which is what they called tea cakes in Mississippi. Whatever we called them, they got eaten, and, thankfully, I finally did get to the store for butter and other things! Thankfully, because we got several inches of snow yesterday, which is frozen today.
Looking out the window, remarking how snowy it is, I thought of the poem by Robert Frost, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening. In it, he talks about "the sweep of easy wind and downy flake," a scene evoking relaxation in the comfort of a cozy house with tea cakes on a plate, a Mason jar on a tray, and enough memories to keep us warm!
There all the Time
"Howard!" I exclaimed to my husband. "This GPS is so old it won't pick up Mark's address!" I knew we should have had it updated long before this, but there was no time to think about that now. We were on the--up until now--pleasant drive from our son Jamie's house and headed to a suburb of Austin. We had come this way many times, but always with someone else!
Well, I thought I would just program in a random address in their town that the GPS would accept and figure it out from there. When I told Mark that over the phone, he said he'd never heard of the road the GPS gave us, and attempted to give us directions. He said to stay on our route until we came to I-35, which was where a toll road began (at least that's what I thought he said), then go north.
"There it is!" I pointed out when I saw the interstate sign. But was that going north or south? I saw the arrow pointing north, so we took that approach, but it became obvious we were going south when downtown Austin came into view with huge buildings and congested traffic. Another frantic call to Mark, whose cryptic reply was, "Take the nearest exit and turn around." Okay. But how far to go?
Mark told us the name of an exit that was near their area. We were to get off there and he would tell us where his wife Rhonda would meet us and lead us to their house. Despairing of finding the exit after miles of driving, Howard pulled off and asked a trucker where it was. "There is no such exit," he pronounced. We said we were actually trying to find their little town, which he said was about 15 miles farther!
Before we took off, another call to our son. Mark said, "You must go to the exit I told you. It's only two exits more." This time we spotted it. "Rhonda will meet you at the H-E-B that is about...let's see...five stoplights away," he assured us. I counted off five stoplights, then we drove probably another five miles.
"We must have passed it," I wailed. So hubby pulls off and asks a lady coming off a side street if there was an H-E-B (supermarket) near there. She said it was just down the road. We found it and called Rhonda, who had gone into the store to pick up something for lunch. She said she could see us out the window, to just sit tight. Howard couldn't be still, however, getting out into the frigid gale with a question to bundled-up customers hurrying against the wind to their cars.
Losing sight of our daughter-in-law's car only a few times, we followed her home. After lunch with her and our grandson, we rested until Mark came home an hour or so later, and had a wonderful evening and a restful night. The next morning as we were getting ready to go home on a break between snow and ice predictions, Mark mentioned that we probably have a GPS on our iPhone. He located and pointed out the icon labeled Navigation. We had never noticed it before!
We didn't need it on our trip home, because our old GPS worked fine for that. But we tried it out anyway when we neared home. We just called Siri, the automated voice that dirccted us precisely from a visual map along every mile and every turn we needed to make! What a life-saver! It could have prevented all our mix-ups! And to think we had it all the time!
That's just like the Lord, I thought. Ready and waiting for us to call on Him in time of trouble, and even with us when we are not aware of His presence. Well, He certainly was with us on this trip! Our true Navigator through life! He was there all the time.
Well, I thought I would just program in a random address in their town that the GPS would accept and figure it out from there. When I told Mark that over the phone, he said he'd never heard of the road the GPS gave us, and attempted to give us directions. He said to stay on our route until we came to I-35, which was where a toll road began (at least that's what I thought he said), then go north.
"There it is!" I pointed out when I saw the interstate sign. But was that going north or south? I saw the arrow pointing north, so we took that approach, but it became obvious we were going south when downtown Austin came into view with huge buildings and congested traffic. Another frantic call to Mark, whose cryptic reply was, "Take the nearest exit and turn around." Okay. But how far to go?
Mark told us the name of an exit that was near their area. We were to get off there and he would tell us where his wife Rhonda would meet us and lead us to their house. Despairing of finding the exit after miles of driving, Howard pulled off and asked a trucker where it was. "There is no such exit," he pronounced. We said we were actually trying to find their little town, which he said was about 15 miles farther!
Before we took off, another call to our son. Mark said, "You must go to the exit I told you. It's only two exits more." This time we spotted it. "Rhonda will meet you at the H-E-B that is about...let's see...five stoplights away," he assured us. I counted off five stoplights, then we drove probably another five miles.
"We must have passed it," I wailed. So hubby pulls off and asks a lady coming off a side street if there was an H-E-B (supermarket) near there. She said it was just down the road. We found it and called Rhonda, who had gone into the store to pick up something for lunch. She said she could see us out the window, to just sit tight. Howard couldn't be still, however, getting out into the frigid gale with a question to bundled-up customers hurrying against the wind to their cars.
Losing sight of our daughter-in-law's car only a few times, we followed her home. After lunch with her and our grandson, we rested until Mark came home an hour or so later, and had a wonderful evening and a restful night. The next morning as we were getting ready to go home on a break between snow and ice predictions, Mark mentioned that we probably have a GPS on our iPhone. He located and pointed out the icon labeled Navigation. We had never noticed it before!
We didn't need it on our trip home, because our old GPS worked fine for that. But we tried it out anyway when we neared home. We just called Siri, the automated voice that dirccted us precisely from a visual map along every mile and every turn we needed to make! What a life-saver! It could have prevented all our mix-ups! And to think we had it all the time!
That's just like the Lord, I thought. Ready and waiting for us to call on Him in time of trouble, and even with us when we are not aware of His presence. Well, He certainly was with us on this trip! Our true Navigator through life! He was there all the time.
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