What is Your Story?

A new friend greeted me with that question. I stopped to think, “WHAT is my story?”

That is not an easy answer for any of us to answer when we take an account of all aspects of our lives. Where do we begin to tell such a story?

The mind-pictures begin to slide by in quick progression. Those pictures when I felt as if I had fallen short or cringe at remembering, I fast forward ahead to picture the moments when I savored life! That is when I realized that a light blue, lace love covers many of my memories.

Long ago, I realized that life is too short to live with anger, with unforgiveness, or bitterness. Prayer has become my best friend. Love and encouragement is constantly in the air I breathe for those around me.

God gave me a family. First God sent me twin boys. One became my anchor, for Donnie lives in heaven. The only way I can hold him is to choose Jesus, and live for Him. Then God sent me three more children to join Dan — Paul, Tim and Anna in quick succession.

Recently as I read Psalm 139:13-16 – Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out; you formed me in my mother’s womb. I thank you, High God—you’re breathtaking! Body and soul, I am marvelously made! I worship in adoration—what a creation! You know me inside and out, you know every bone in my body; You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit, how I was sculpted from nothing into something. Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth; all the stages of my life were spread out before you, The days of my life all prepared before I’d even lived one day.

When I realized that our High God knows each of us from the inside out, and that He is so near as He creates our children in the womb, I wept. God indeed places a gift in a Mother’s arms, one by one. As each of the grandchildren arrive, I know how God loves each of us. As each great grandchild arrives — how great are His blessings. The blessings grow exponentially.

What makes that love grow? It is a child’s response to his parents. What is my story? One of the sweetest gifts came in the form of a Nick Butterworth’s book, My Mom is Fantastic. One of my daughter-in-loves bought this book (and one for Dads). She sent it to each of our children to add memories and responses to the author’s writing.

“She can fix anything….“

Dan – Even a broken heart. I tried to give a present to a girl once, and she didn’t want it. But Mom did…Thanks — PS You’ll never be second fiddle to me.
Paul – I read about maple syrup candy made by early Americans who boiled maple sap and poured it through snow to make candy. I tried to explain and try. We ended up pouring pancake syrup on ice cubes – it was fun.
Tim – Her lips pursed as she concentrated on things ….trying to paint, sew, cook and I will always remember that face.
Anna – Mom taught me to cook by example. I learned not to follow directions. You just take this and this, you add some of this. Oh, this sounds good and when you served it, you smile and say thank you. Did I miss something?

“And she can balance on a tight rope….“

Dan – When she isn’t being chased by a rooster while hanging out the clothes. Some people will do anything to avoid ‘fither’ (a name for our rooster).
Paul – Holding a garbage can over your head and kicking your leg out, you posed for my camera. The picture ended up in an exhibition for grade school and a teacher asked if my Mom was a dancer? No, not really, she just likes to play around.
Tim – Watching the endless clothes on lines in Dodge City as they flapped in the warm Kansas wind. It must have been piles of laundry…Thanks.
Anna – All afternoon and evening and sometimes in the mornings, Mom would launder our clothes – she would wash, dry, separate, fold, sew, iron and hang up load after load of clothes. Oh, HOW I appreciate that now. I had only thought to help. But I suppose it WAS peaceful.

“She’s a brilliant artist….”

Dan – I got the finest curtains available – red with EMC2 all over them
Paul – The Wilroads Garden grade school basketball team was the Wildcats. You cut out different colors of iron on material and pressed them into my home made red jacket on the back. I proudly wore my wildcat pictre on the back of that jacket to school. “My Mom made it,” I told every one.
Tim – I remember the bathroom toilet seat at Ft Dodge – the pink elephant standing on its nose saying, “Put me down…gently please.” In a vain attempt to get 4 boys to remember 2 girls.
Anna – My Mom, the artist, from my favorite wall in Watonga that my Mom painted when she was 16 years to the painting, I have always remembered at Fort Dodge Road, to the time Mom had some left-over paint and it became a fall scene to use up the paint, to the chalk painting of the Old Rugged Cross in Wilroads Gardens. I’ll never forget the appreciation she gave me for beauty in small and sometimes forgotten places.

Don’t you see that children are God’s best gift? The fruit of the womb, his generous legacy? Psalm 127:3

Point your kids in the right direction — when they’re old, they won’t be lost. Proverbs 22:6

Watch what God does, and then you do it, like children who learn proper behavior from their parents. Mostly what God does is love you. Keep company with Him and learn a life of love. Observe how Christ loved us. His love was not cautious but extravagant. He didn’t love in order to get something from us but to give everything of himself to us. Love like that. Ephesians 5:1-2

Nothing could make me happier than getting reports that my children continue diligently in the way of Truth! 3 John 1:4