Month: May 2025

Burping and Serving

A friend posted a story on Facebook today that deeply touched me.  A prisoner talked about the huge impact made on a rough group of fellow prisoners and himself by none other than a nondescript janitor who had worked for years at the prison.  This little woman spoke to those hardened men as she held her broom and her words were used by God to pierce their hard hearts with the gospel.  

He said, “Because that janitor, a woman without a title, without a stage – she delivered a sermon that still gets me choked up.  She didn’t come to save us.  She came to serve.  And in doing so, she became the loudest gospel I’d ever heard.”

Our family has been through some tough times lately.  Even though the worst is hopefully over, by God’s grace, things are still upended in several ways.  Last week I knew that we were entering into a time where we as parents and grandparents would be needed daily.  I was wondering how we would do it all.  My wondering and planning were quickly turning into worry, and even into dread.

A week ago yesterday was the first day of our “new” duty, so to speak.  And in the very early quiet of that morning, God reached down through what I was already reading and spoke perfect words of encouragement to me.  

“Set your mind on things that are above…”. (Colossians 3:2)

God reminded me that what I needed to do was remember that every act of service I do is really for Him.  To set my mind on serving Him through even the most mundane acts is such a joy.  And truly, this week God has given me strength and peace and joy that can only come through Him.  

That very afternoon I had a call from a precious friend.  I was so excited to tell her how God broke through my dread and worry and instead gave me such settled peace and joy.  This friend cares for her family so well, including her special needs son.

“Why is it,” I asked her, “that we so often think we have to go to the mission field before we’re really serving the Lord when He gives us all these ways to serve Him in our own families?”

Every mile driven.

Every baby burped.

Every poopy diaper changed.

Every song sung.

Every story told.

Every ball thrown.

Every bubble blown.

Every meal cooked.

Every cheek kissed.

Set my mind on things above, God.  On You.  On the joy of serving You as I love and help my family.

That little prison janitor touched toughened hearts through her acts of service.  Her stage was a prison meeting room, holding her broom and mop, her dirty bucket of water sitting beside her.

God loves using the weak things of this world to confound the mighty.  

Jesus washed feet.  

He touched lepers and unclean women.

He ate with sinners, with those who were cast out of proper society.

What stage do you have today where God can use you to serve Him?

Holding a baby?

Holding a book to read to your child?

Holding a door for the one in the wheelchair?

Holding a crying friend?

Holding the hand of your dying spouse?

Oh, may we not desire the center stage with the lights and the applause.

May we instead desire, and fully realize, that serving God right where He has put us in the center of His will is the very best use of this life He has given us.

My Mother and Aaron

Ten years ago, on Mother’s Day weekend, we held my mom’s funeral.  It was fitting for her to be honored during the weekend dedicated to mothers, but it was also heart rending.  Her funeral, conducted by my brother, was the sweetest funeral I have ever attended.  

For her funeral, John had each of the grandchildren write down their favorite memories of their grandmother.  Aaron couldn’t do that, so I wrote about the special relationship they had.  I want to share that now.

So many memories come flooding in when I sit and think of my mother and her relationship with Aaron, her special grandson.  Not that he was any more special than all the other grandchildren, but because Aaron has special needs.  Yet those special needs are what made him so very special to his Grandmother.  From a young age, Aaron was diagnosed with epilepsy and autism.  His curiosities and abilities were a joy to his grandmother.  I’ll never forget her delight at watching him in Colorado, before he turned two years old, showing her his letters and naming them correctly…and how surprised and delighted she was.  I remember our visits to Third Street and all the fun Aaron would have.  The sprinkler in the yard, helping Grandmother put together her famous homemade pizzas, playing with the big marble toy or Legos, and Cheerios in the living room coffee table drawer.  And spinach!  Mom fixed spinach one night and Aaron, thinking that spinach would make him strong like Popeye, kept opening the refrigerator door, pry open the plastic container of spinach, take some of that cold spinach out, grimace as he swallowed it, and then push the container back and close the door.  Mom just stood there outside the kitchen, peeking in and laughing so hard at Aaron as he repeatedly choked down that cold spinach. 

We visited for Christmas right after Dad was diagnosed with liver cancer.   Aaron watched Grandmother and Granddaddy open their Christmas presents.  One present they received was a plaque with a long poem about what cancer cannot take away.  Mom, knowing that Aaron could read very well, handed him the plaque and asked him to read it out loud to us.  Aaron read every word while we all cried.  It was a memory Mom often spoke of, with tears in her eyes.  

One more!  We came home in 2010 for Mom’s surprise birthday party.  Even then she was having a hard time remembering all the grandchildren.  But she looked across the room, saw Aaron, and her mouth and eyes opened wide.  “There’s Aaron!” she said with true joy.  That recognition meant so much to Aaron, even though he couldn’t really express it.  I could tell from the look on his face.  So, the night that we found out she had died, I reminded Aaron of that day when Grandmother recognized him from across the room.  Aaron just smiled and said, “Yeah.”  It wasn’t a long comment, but his smile and his joy were unmistakable.  

That is what Mom gave to him…a smile, joy, and great love.  

I am forever grateful that God gave us our mother to love each of us, but also to especially love our special Aaron.

Her smile, her joy, and her great love will always be a part of our lives.  

And for that, I am forever blessed and grateful.

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God’s Unseen Footprints

Our family has recently been going through some very wonderful times mixed with a big dose of some very scary and stressful times.  

We welcomed our new little granddaughter, Coralynn Grace, into our hearts and arms on April 16.  

But Andrea, who has some autoimmune health issues, had several complications that resulted in a C-section and a huge loss of blood.  Three days after she came home from the hospital, she had to be re-admitted for emergency surgery.  They discovered massive internal bleeding and a large hematoma.  Between the two surgeries, Andrea lost most of her blood volume.  When she was finally dismissed from the hospital, her surgeon said that no one knew how Andrea was still alive because usually that volume of blood loss causes cardiac arrest.  

There are many other issues going on in our lives and theirs currently that have increased the pressure we’re all under by a LOT.  

We’re very thankful for our sweet little baby girl and for God sparing her mama’s life while at the same time feeling like we’re all barely treading water.

During the beginning days of all this crazy time, I opened my Bible one morning and read a favorite Psalm of mine…Psalm 77.  This Psalm begins with words that described our feelings as this journey of ours began, words of worry and sleepless nights…of being so troubled that words would not come…of sighing, distress, and despair.

But then the Psalmist began to remember the past…of God’s wonders as He led Israel out of Egypt…of God showing His great strength…of the holy ways of God.

But those ways of God led Israel to the sea. “Your way was in the sea and your paths in the mighty waters,” the Psalmist said.  

And then this, the truth that I have loved for years in these verses:  “And Your footprints could not be seen.”  

God led His people not only TO the water, but He led them INTO the water.  And there His tracks, His footprints, seemed to end.  They could not be seen in the water.  

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And in our lives, this is where faith comes in.  My trust is not in the footprints that I can see. 

My trust is in the God Who is leading me where I can’t see His tracks.  

Sometimes we can’t see His footprints…..

In the cancer.

In the surgeries.

In the dementia.

In the terminal diagnosis.

In the job loss.

In the broken car.

In the wayward child.

In the broken marriage.

In death.

But God is there!  

Right after the Psalmist talked about God’s unseen footprints, he said, “You led Your people like a flock.”  

God loves His sheep, and He is leading us.  He hasn’t forsaken us, and He never will.  

Every unseen step through the deep waters we face is His leading us for our good now and for His glory as we point to Him and follow Him in trust.

I may not always feel the trust in the middle of great stress, but I keep following Him and speaking words of trust anyway.  

“Your way, O God, is holy; what God is great like our God?  You are the God Who works wonders; You have made known Your strength among the peoples.”   (Psalm 77:13-14)

Keep following! 

Keep trusting!

And someday you’ll look back and see God’s footprints all over your life.