Does God Like Me?

“Mom?” Aaron asked last night as he was going through his ever-important bedtime routine.  I was ready for yet another question about what the SS means on the side of the Poseidon…or what kind of vision do the aliens on Pacific Rim have…or what is the quick freeze on The Day After Tomorrow movie?  So I just absently responded with my all-too-often reply.

“Hmmm?” I absently answered as he stood beside me in the bathroom, watching me put something away. 

“Do I have seizures because God doesn’t like me?” he continued.

And I stopped…stopped dead in my tracks at this very unexpected question. 

I looked up from what I was doing, into his very serious face. 

“I just wondered if I have seizures because God doesn’t like me,” he continued. 


This is like a question Job would ask, and I wanted to give the right answer without being too shallow or too deep.

I told Aaron that God loves him very much, and that sometimes He allows things to happen.  I wanted to go into full theology mode, but I knew that I could easily lose Aaron, so I assured him again of God’s love and that when we have those questions we need to remember what we know about God…that He IS love, even when we don’t understand what He allows.

Aaron went on to bed soon after, but his question lingered in my mind into this morning.  What brought that question into his mind?  What had he been thinking about? 

Gary and I talked last night at supper, just the two of us, about how on some days we feel like it’s Christmas…and on other days, not so much.  What brings on that “Christmas spirit” we sometimes work so hard to achieve?  At times, we don’t set out to create that feeling, but when it’s missing we wonder what we missed.  Are we tired?  Worried?  Overwhelmed?  Broke?  Or broken?

I walked into Aaron’s room this morning, carrying his fresh coffee and finding him soundly asleep.  I spoke to him but he didn’t stir.  Coming back a little later, I pulled back his covers as he grunted…and I was not happy with what I saw.

A wet bed!  A totally soaked bed!

And last night he and I had changed his sheets!  I was happy to mark that off my Christmas To-Do list. 

“Are you kidding me?” I exclaimed. 

“What?” Aaron sleepily asked.

“You wet your bed!” I impatiently answered.  I was pretty certain it wasn’t a seizure, so I added, “No more water before bed!”

And off I huffed, mumbling my frustration.  Of all days!  I was feeling pretty good last night about finishing the gift wrapping and most of the grocery shopping, and saving Friday for house cleaning and the beginning of my cooking. 

Plans set.  The “Christmas spirit” picking up!

And now this…this time consuming, unexpected, yucky mess!

As I showered and got myself ready, Aaron’s question of the night before came back to my mind.  I was reminded of how much I wanted to impress God’s love upon him.  How could I do that if I was grouchy with him?  And again, how could I answer his searching question in a way that would impact him?

As I thought about it, God gently nudged my heart.  “It’s Christmas, Patty,” He seemed to say.  “What better time to explain my love than at Christmas?”

All of a sudden, wet bedding and a busy day ahead didn’t matter so much.  The Christmas music playing in my bedroom took on a clearer meaning.  I decided to talk to Aaron on our way to his day group.

He promptly turned on the Christmas CD that was in the player as soon as I turned on the van.  “Number 12,” he flatly said.  Aaron always follows the numbers of songs very closely.  “This CD has 14 songs,” he further explained.  “It’s on number 12 now.”

I smiled.  He seems to think that I want to know this information as much as he does.  But this morning, I was glad to know that I had only three songs to go before I could talk to Aaron once again about his last night’s question.

Number 14 song completely ended, and the CD went to number 1 again before Aaron removed it.  You do NOT remove the CD when the number 14 is still showing.  It must have moved on to the next song, just so you know.

I grabbed the moment.  “Aaron, do you remember asking me last night if God doesn’t like you because He lets you have seizures?” I asked. 

“Yeah,” he answered as he placed the CD in its case.

“Well, this is the perfect time of year to remember how much God loves you.  He sent Jesus down to earth to be born as a baby because He loves you and me that much.  You know that’s what Christmas is all about,” I said.

“Yeah,” he repeated. 

“So you don’t have to wonder if God loves you or not because you have seizures.  We don’t understand all that, but we do know that He loves you a bunch!  Jesus’ birth shows you that every day!” I continued.

We continued talking a bit as we neared his day group.  He was content with that answer.  And I noticed in my own heart a return of that mysterious “Christmas spirit.”  It had nothing to do with this:


Or this:

 WP_20171215_14_12_54_Pro (2)

But definitely had everything to do with this!


My Christmas verse this year, so appropriate for me and for Aaron this morning, is one we all know: “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him would not perish but would have everlasting life.”  John 3:16

I need to run!  I have a load of bedding to put in the dryer.

Merry Christmas to all!





What Dad Taught Me in Death

I’m so thankful for all that my dad taught me in life, but especially all that he taught me in death.

He Said What?!

I’ve heard it said that our parents are the most important teachers that we will ever have.  I would agree with that statement, for as we grow we are constantly watching our parents……..listening and absorbing and learning through their words and deeds.  Hopefully the lessons learned are good ones.  My parents were very beneficial in my life in more ways than I can count.  Yet some of the lessons that I treasure the most are the lessons I learned as I watched my dad live the last month of his life on earth.  What were some of those lessons?
1.  Know When to Ask For Help
Dad was diagnosed with lung cancer in 2000, and with liver cancer in 2004.   In September of 2008, dad was put into Hospice care.  We knew that no more could be done for him medically, so as he declined I told him…

View original post 1,961 more words

The First Snow

My sister, Mary Beth, called me just now. She lives in North Carolina. When I answered the phone, she was singing a Christmas song. And I knew. I knew right away, as each of my siblings knew when she called them. Mary Beth was getting snow!! This blog tells about our old family tradition, of how sweet it is, and what these traditions mean even now as we are older.

He Said What?!

The first thing I did when I got up this morning was to look out the window to see if we had gotten any of the possible snow that has been talked about over the past few days.  If you look hard, like between the cracks of our brick walkway out back, or on our roof, you can see a little faint dusting of snow.  It’s just a tiny bit, but it would have been enough at one time to keep up our old family tradition.

My mind goes back on this cold morning to other cold mornings of my childhood.  I remember how Mom would always be up very early, faithfully fixing breakfast for Dad before he left for his job at the railroad station nearby.  Then she would do the same for us, getting five breakfasts ready for us kids before we left for school……and somehow getting herself…

View original post 653 more words