Day 3: monkey see, monkey do

Early this morning as I drove home from the gym, I heard the radio hosts ask this question, “What are you modeling for your children that they will then model for their own?”  

I thought about how every week my husband and I welcome a group of college students into our home for Bible study.  Students come from our church, or the nearby university, friends bring friends and the group has ebbed and flowed now for two years.  Some evenings we may have a student or two join our family for dinner, which is a great time to get to know them better, and for them to interact with our three kids.  Once the rest of the students arrive, I serve brownies or popcorn and the students jump on the trampoline with our kids or sit at our table discussing science concepts that are way over my head.

Eventually, our kids head into our bedroom to watch a movie on my laptop and we corral the students into the living room where my husband leads us in Bible study.

Fifteen years ago, as a college student, I lived with a family who modeled to me exactly this kind of hospitality.  They held a weekly Bible study for college students in their home.  Sometimes students shared a meal with them.  There were always yummy snacks, good conversation and focused time in the Word.

Perhaps one day, one of my children will be in college and will attend a similar study in the home of a nice, young family from a nearby church.  Or perhaps they will lead one themselves once they are adults with families of their own. 

So friend, I'd love to hear about what was modeled to you as a young person that you now model for your own children?

Day 2: genesis and mercy

Last night I visited the page with all the 31 Dayers listed and, guess what?  There are over 1,000 topics to choose from!!  I look forward to pouring myself a fall-ish drink and sitting down for a nice long read through all that creativity!

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Here's my Day 2:
All scars tell a story.  Mine tell of an unexpected birth defect and of the miracle of medicine, even way back in 1973. 

And also, I believe, of the mercy of God.

Perhaps someone had thought it a great idea, let’s plan a baby shower on Veteran’s Day for my veteran Dad and his young bride.  The party happened, gifts were given, but instead of being surrounded by smiling faces and a mound of presents, my Mom was at Maryland General Hospital on the morning of her baby shower, giving birth to me. 

My parents were both very young when I came into their lives.  My Mom was 20, my Dad, 24.  They had no warning from an ultrasound to tell them that all would not be well with my birth.  I came into this world six weeks early, tiny, with half of my insides where they weren’t supposed to be. 

Born at Maryland General Hospital in Baltimore, I was promptly delivered into an ambulance and rushed across town to John’s Hopkins Medical Center and directly into surgery to fix my gastroschisis. My Mom was kept at the General Hospital for at least a few days.  My Dad wearily shuttled between two hospitals, between the two people he loved most in the world.  My Mom’s hair would turn gray with the intense stress of it all.

The surgery left me with a three inch vertical scar on my abdomen in place of a standard belly button, a funny round, bumpy scar on the middle left of my abdomen where there was a drainage tube for the surgery site and scars on my neck where the doctors placed the I.V.’s I needed.   Throughout my life, I have suffered much embarrassment from the funny scars on my neck.  And bikinis?  No way!

This year I am involved in a weekly, year-long study of the book of Genesis.  I am thinking about beginnings.  The story in Genesis 1tells of the beginning of our universe, our earth, ourselves, and it reveals much about the character God.  He is purposeful, orderly, creative, and powerful.  He sees both the big picture, and the smallest detail.  And when He wants something to happen, it does.

I see my scars as testimonies to God’s work in my life, from the very beginning.  He made no mistakes as he formed me in my mother’s womb.  He showered me with mercy, placing me in the right place, at just the right time. 

Day 1: my story for His glory

Each of us has a story, IS a story: 

2 Corinthians 3:2-3 “You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, known and read by everybody.  You show that you are a letter from Christ, the result of our ministry, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts.”

When we look at where we are from, our families, how we were raised, our experiences, our successes, failures, joys and sorrows, fears and moments of courage, we can begin to see the Story He is writing. 

The best part of the whole thing?  It is grand because it is His story.

The more I study the Bible, the more I realize that this whole thing, this LIFE I am living, is meant to glorify the One who gave it to me in the first place.

This month I want to write bits of my own story, the one where I am the girl who lives, and the one who is saved, the one who falls for the drug addict and the one who marries the brilliant professor, the girl who wishes she were someone else, and the girl who realizes she is made just right.  I long to see the shiny thread of His glory woven through it all…by Him, for Him, because of Him.

…grateful to be participating in the 31 Days writing community…

weekends are for counting gift after gift

::giggling girls getting their ears pierced together

::knowing my son and husband are off having tons of Boy Scout fun this weekend, i.e. camping, zip-lining, rock wall climbing, water sliding.

::a friend who hear the emotions behind the words, who asks the questions and does really want to hear the answers

::the privilege of saying I love you to some friends this with a hot, cheesy casserole, cold, sweet watermelon and chocolaty brownies, delivered with a hug and smile!

::my home, with it’s dust and clutter and piles of dirty laundry, for it’s sturdy walls and snug windows and safe doors, a place to live life with my little family.

::a healthy body, a clear mind, a soft heart

::kids who can turn a hot and musty garage into a house for hours of imaginary play

Five Minute Fridays: Grasp

Grasp:

A child, toddling along by its mother, reaches a chubby hand skyward to grasp the strong, firm one that is there, offering stability, safety, comfort.

My children are all well past the toddler years now, so holding hands with them is no longer an issue of keeping them from harm’s way.  Now as we walk side-by-side their shoulders brush mine, their pace matches my own and when they slip their ever-growing hands into mine, it is a gift, an intimate connection, a steadying of the heart.

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Please visit Gypsy Mama for more Five Minute Friday posts!

31 Days: Almost Here!

I am joining the 31 day writing party over at The Nester's place, starting October 1st.  The idea is to pick a topic that you can write about for the entire month, every day.  My hope is that this will be a shot-in-my-writing-arm!

Here is my topic (and the cool button my husband made for me...thanks, honey!):

31 Days of my story for His Glory, writing personal stories with the aim of giving glory to God for His truly amazing grace in my life.

Excited and nervous,

Amy

 

Five Minute Fridays: Wide

I pulled the white board easel closer to the table.

“Here, “ I said, “Let me show you.”

On the board I wrote a division problem, quickly calculating the answer in my head to make sure there were no remainders.

We walked though long division, step by step.  She held the sheet I laminated for her because some multiplication facts just aren’t sticking. 

“Then I multiply, Mama?” she asks, eyes glued to the white board, her body tense with concentration, gripping the dry erase marker hard.

“That’s right, Clare.  Exactly right.”

She multiplies, subtracts, brings down, repeats the steps.

“Let’s check your answer, OK?” I say, knowing she got it right, wanting a concrete way to show her success.

Carefully, she copies down the multiplication problem to check her answer. 

“You did it, Clare!  Great job!”

Her eyes move from the white board to look directly into mine.  They are the shining eyes of a child who understands, who has learned something new and is alight with knowledge.  Her mouth, furrowed a moment ago into a concentrating grimace, grins wide.

“I like long division, Mama!”

“Me too, Clare, me too.”

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Please visit Gypsy Mama to read more 5 Minute Friday posts.