The Best Gifts Imaginable

As I was listening to the radio I heard a song entitled, "The House That Built Me" by Miranda Lambert. She is a country singer and I believe songwriter. The song is about a young woman who would like to go into the house where she grew up and "take a memory" if the present owner is okay with that. The song also reflects back on her childhood.
It's interesting where that song took me: my grandparents house, an old white Victorian home. It was there I have some of the most cherished memories of my childhood. The house was so bright. Big windows with white cafe curtains blowing in the breeze. High white walls that stretched up to an incomprehensible height reaching the ceiling. A beautiful staircase that led to a large landing that overlooked the familiar backyard. That landing was so majestic I was afraid to do anything but walk through it to either set of stairs leading to the second story.
The second story had one bath and five bedrooms. One of the rooms was hidden between two of the rooms by pocket doors. Each room held special memories for me. Watching my grandmother iron in her sewing room. Helping her with the wringer washer on laundry day in the guest room. Sleeping with her when I had a bad dream in her bedroom. Baths that lasted forever because I just loved the water. Running back and forth across the hall for fun.
Downstairs was the kitchen where I'd watch her automatic mixer churn cake batter. It was mesmerizing. All those toys and I loved that mixer the best. The parlor where I set up all my toys in a miniscule village. The nook by the front door that held my toys. The long family/office/dining room. My grandfather's desk that held so many treasures I'd play there for hours.
The backyard was beyond fantastic. A flower garden, clothesline, and screened in porch made it one of the funnest places ever. The back alley snaked around to lead into a residential street. The alley made a little hill that was good for exploring, rolling down and hidden adventures.
I realized as I was listening to this song it wasn't just the house that I held close in my heart. It was the people who lived there. My grandparents were like another set of parents only more relaxed. When I rode my stick horse around the circle of the downstairs no one ever told me to be quiet. I "yee-hawed" as loudly as I could get my voice to well, yee-haw. My grandmother would play the piano with me sitting close and we'd sing. We'd sit in the same big white chair and she'd read "Mother Goose's Nursery Rhymes".
I could exhale there. I could always find my favorite cookies there. I felt at home there. And I felt that special grandchild love there. All the houses I lived in with my parents and siblings had their special memories too. But I see now that Grandma and Grandpa's house was extra special for no other reason than it was Grandma and Grandpa's house. God blessed me with wonderful people and a wonderful place to reflect back on. He truly is the Giver of the best gifts imaginable. A family that loved me, beloved memories and that really awesome Son of His.

Father's Day

Another Father's Day is fast approaching. It takes me back to the Father's Days when I was a kid. My grandparents coming over. Cooking out. Laughter. I often wondered how they liked their gifts. Even as a kid I wondered, "Does Grandpa really like that shirt, wallet, jacket, etc.?" They always acted sort of grateful. Even my Dad would try to rally. My Mom would work hard to be original. She'd buy him new grill utensils, tools, that type of thing. He was never overly excited or surprised but did always thank her and us.
Now, I'm the Mom. I have to try to come up with gifts for our dads and my husband. Who is by the way a terrific Dad. I just ask him. This year he said he'd take a new washer. Probably because we had to buy one a week ago. Sigh. He'd given me such a nice Mother's Day I wanted to do an awesome job for him too.
My kids had no ideas. They really weren't in the mood to make anything like we did last year. So...I asked my husband again. And again he mentioned the washer. Aaahhh!!! Then I got a 30% off coupon to one of my favorite stores. I bought him the old stand by. Clothes he really needed. At least in my opinion. Then something he'll really like-an ice cream cake from Dairy Queen. Chocolate of course. I only need to get one more gift he actually did mention. That was before the whole dishwasher mess. I'm feeling pretty good where he is concerned.
Now, for our Dads. Not easy. Grandpa cards for sure. They get a bigger kick out of those than the dad cards they've been getting for over forty years. But gifts? I sent them money. My dad feels this is impersonal but I'm at a loss here. Then, I started thinking about my friends whose dads have a new home . In Heaven. I grew up with some of their dads. They were wonderful gentlemen. As I was worrying about gifts I paused to think about them and their kids. I know what they'd like for Father's Day. To have one more day, Father's Day or not, with their dads. It pulled me up short and put the whole gift dilemma into prospective. I know how much I miss my grandfathers. To wrap my mind around the fact that one day our fathers will not be here seems too much to grasp. Maybe the happiest thing about Father's Day is being thankful God has given us one more with our dads. And to be happy we have a heavenly Father who when our earthly fathers are human is always there for us. No matter what. Happy Father's Day indeed!

Clinging to the Vorpal Sword

Well, I'm back in blogworld. Why was I MIA? I'm trying to write a book. I have an appointment with a publisher the end of July. Yes, I am freaking out. So much so my stomach bubbles and I can't eat. I'm scared I won't get done and scared I will. Everyone out there, please pray for me.
Last week when I was at my worst in this (feeling writing was taking away from my kids and my kids were taking away from my writing) it was a seriously dark day. I cried alot and talked to my hubby alot. Then finally, I talked to God. Yes, it's always good to make Him your last resource. The next morning I can't explain the peace I felt. My day fell into place. No matter what I was doing I had no guilt and no stress. No stomach bubbles either.
The next morning the kids were watching Alice in Wonderland. The new one that is out by Tim Burton. I love this movie. It had so many great lines in it. Among millions of other great things. So, on my way to write I thought I'd watch the "big scene". As I did I was transfixed. Tears rolled down my face as I finally realized the specialness of the message at least as it pertained to me.
I am Alice. I am full of doubt and indecision. The vorpal sword is God. Absalom the caterpillar told Alice, "The vorpal sword knows what it wants. You need only to hold onto it." God knows what He wants for us. We need only to hold onto His hand. We show our trust in Him by doing so. And sometimes, when things are bad we cling to both of them.
My book is not my own personal Jabberwocky. My fears and lack of trust in what God wants me to do are. So, what am I going to do? I'm going to let go of my fears-off with their heads" so to speak and all the Enemy has chosen to throw my way. They will come tumbling down these stone steps and they will die. What kept them vital will only make me stronger in knowing God triumphs over all our fears. He will lead me back to where I belong. Even if I let go, He never will.