December 30th marked 33years of marriage for the Reverends Hawley!
And oddly enough, we were married on a Sunday afternoon at 3:00 PM central time. All through the day yesterday, I couldn't help but think about that wonderful wedding day - thirty-three years ago.
Frank, the handsome groom. Sheri, the nervous bride. Gowns. Tuxes. Flowers. Friends. Family. Perfection!
Because music was such a huge part of both our lives, Frank wrote a song for the ceremony. His college room mate helped compose a beautiful number using phrases from Proverbs 31.
Robert, such a good friend, agreed to cut his Christmas vacation short in order to be at the wedding. He accompanied Frank on the acoustic guitar.
When the doors to the sanctuary swung open, Frank began singing to me as I came down the aisle. The melody was haunting. His voice filled the room. Hankies were being passed around. I was mesmerized.
As in our courtship, Frank literally drew me toward him! Still makes me smile to remember.
One anniversary, as we listened to the recording of our ceremony, I realized that the intro was repeated. "Why did Robert repeat the introduction?" I asked. I knew they had practiced until the piece was perfect.
Frank smiled and dropped his head like an embarrassed school boy. "When the doors opened and I caught my first glimpse of you, I was so blown away that I forgot to start singing."
Well, who can complain about imperfection with an answer like that?! Certainly not me!
And here we are, thirty-three years later, still in love.
Complimentary tickets afforded us the privilege of visiting Sea World yesterday. Along with Shamu, sharks and dolphins, there were several excellent Christmas shows. Each performance was just filled with great music.
One of the numbers we heard was "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring." That's what Frank and I chose for our wedding recessional. Our first steps as husband and wife were taken with a musical foundation declaring our love, adoration and dependence on Christ Jesus.
Some might read that statement and think it a bit cheesy. But even in our naive state as young 20-somethings, we somehow sensed that marital success would only come from such a foundation.
All these years later, we no longer sense it..............we KNOW it!
Last night certainly wasn't perfect. The park was jam-packed with everyone trying to use their season tickets just one more time before 2013. We were told that five thousand people crowded into one of the shows we saw. Almost 20,000 were in the park!
And it was unbelievably cold for FL! Especially sitting in outside theaters. Waiting over an hour for each show to start. On metal bleachers. With wind blowing like monsoon season.
And THEN, Shamu had the audacity to S.P.L.A.S.H. the area where we were sitting! I threw my coat up over our faces just in time to shield us from the worst of it!
We probably should have given up and gone home. But how often does imperfection yield such a funny story that we'll tell for years to come?!
And after the shock, the laughter was rich. The show went on. The stunts were breath-taking. The trouble was soon forgotten. Overcome by the next great song; the next marvelous moment.
So we stayed right there until the fireworks display that took place well after my normal bedtime. Impractical? Yes! But I'm so glad we chose to stay! The fireworks show was worth every bit of inconvenience!
And just in case you wonder, our marriage hasn't been perfect either!
We've slogged our way through some difficult times. Times when we loved each other. We were committed to each other. But we sure didn't LIKE each other very much!
(Brutally honest! Totally truthful!)
Selfishness. Pride. Unforgiveness. Stubbornness. They've had the audacity to splash over our marital joy.
Sometimes, it's been tempting to "give up and go home."
But after the storm, after forgiveness, the relationship is much richer. Life goes on. The miracle moments are breath-taking. The trouble is soon overcome by the next marvelous adventure.
And truth be known, I wouldn't want to miss out on experiencing the fireworks show for anything! The good times are always worth any "inconvenience" we experienced getting there! I'm always so glad we chose to stay with it.
Frank often says, "God is Faithful and you can Trust Him!"
I guess that homespun wisdom comes from a journey of experience. We have walked many miles together. Much of our journey has been over incredibly imperfect terrain. And we're totally aware that two imperfect people are the ones walking.
But our travel Companion is not only Faithful and Trust-worthy, He's also a perfect foundation making a good marriage possible!
Happy Anniversary, Honey! Yes, I'd marry you again in a heart beat!!
Monday, December 31, 2012
Friday, December 28, 2012
Laziness and Snow
LAZY!
I have officially achieved my goal for the day and it's only 11:30 in the morning! I've waited all year to tap the LAZY button on my calendar and today is the day.
I'm sitting in the recliner, favorite lap quilt, cup of tea, Christmas music playing. Gracie flanks me on the right, tucked as tightly as a little Shih Tzu possibly can. Bella has flopped down to warm my feet; occasionally rolling over for a belly scratch. Vegetable soup is ready to warm up; the washer and dryer are humming in harmony.
I AM EXPERIENCING - LAZINESS! And it is indeed delicious!
While Christmas plans were being made, we knew that a visit to Mom and Dad Hawley was a non-negotiable. But I just didn't have one more road trip in me this year. So Frank flew.
And although I hate not having time with my dear family in NC and although all our children are traveling or working and although I'm rarely alone like this.......I'm doing just fine.
A dear friend of ours once said he didn't feel like he was truly on vacation until he hit the point were he was bored. Well Bill, I'm not bored but I do feel wonderfully lazy!
I had promised you another Christmas Miracle story from the Hawley Archives. Because so many of you are experiencing snow storms right now, this one seemed most appropriate -
Christmas Kiss from Heaven
In June of 1993, we left Asheville, NC (our home of twelve years) and moved to Brunswick County to pioneer a church. The fledgling congregation of twelve people had contacted our state office and asked that someone be sent to oversee the work.
It took a lot of courage and a definite call to uproot our family and move to that rural community on the coast. When friends would ask where Ocean Isle Beach was we responded truthfully, "Go to the edge of the earth and take a left!"
We left behind the team we'd been part of for nine years. All three girls had been born in Asheville. We loved the city, the people, the mountains, the weather, the events, the church family!
So why move? Because we sensed God's quiet whisper that the next chapter of our life story was to be written six hours away from what had become our safety net.
So we moved.
We included the girls in our plans from the earliest possible moment. (Kristin, who was only ten, actually knew first and kept it a secret for a month! Not many adults can claim that level of confidence keeping.)
Our senior pastor supported the move. He facilitated lavish encouragement given by the congregation we'd served for nine years. After parties and dinners and play-dates and a massive reception, we tearfully bade farewell.
(The greatest comfort afforded us was the incredible act of courage displayed by two dear friends. The Sheppards quit their jobs and moved with us to help launch this pioneer effort! A year later they moved on to Nashville, TN. But those twelve months kept us on course! Without their help, the church probably wouldn't have made it. I know I wouldn't have!)
The girls worked hard at adapting. They too left behind friends, a great school, a church that offered the very BEST in children's ministry. People that had known and loved them since they were first born. We were thankful that they had one another!
Frank went to work growing a congregation; I went to work trying to learn how to home school. We all had to work at being okay with the barest of necessities!
There was no guaranteed salary with this pioneer work. Church bills came first, of course. Then a stipend for the pastor if anything was left over.
Don't you have parts of your life where you look back and think, "HOW in the world did we make it?!"
Yep, us too!
But with God's grace, many unexpected offerings in the mail and a great knowledge of how to prepare tuna, we kept afloat.
As that first Christmas rolled around, we found ourselves lonely and discouraged. The church had only grown to about sixty people. We felt very isolated. We knew the parties and plays and festivities we were missing in Asheville. And mostly, it was just too warm at the beach for Christmas.
Meagan was only five and worried aloud about how it would ever snow in this place. "Well, Sweetheart, it doesn't snow here. Remember, we talked about that before we moved? But we get to enjoy the beach any time we want."
"Mama!" Her little girl voice held the sound of a reprimand. "The beach is where you take a vacation. It isn't where you LIVE!" (Meagan has never had trouble expressing her mind!)
"Well, Baby, it's where we live now." I couldn't come up with anything more eloquent that the plain 'ol facts.
December 25th rapidly approached and our hearts grew heavier with each passing day. Resources were so limited! The girls would have had almost NO Christmas that year if it hadn't been for a wonderful group of ladies in New Bern, NC.
Those church ladies "adopted" our precious girls and sent two boxes loaded with school supplies and treats. Frank and I quickly wrapped each item and placed them all under the tree. Such an answer to prayer!
Our Christmas would take place about three days early as we were traveling to my parents' home that year. So on the appointed evening, we marked Christmas Eve with all our regular traditions. Each girl opened one preselected gift, we sang, we told stories, we watched a Christmas movie, then put our angels to bed.
Frank and I stepped out on to the porch for a minute. The overcast skies foretold that our Christmas morning would probably be a rainy one.
"Well, great!" I thought. "Now they won't even be able to enjoy being outside tomorrow! No snow, no friends, no play time! Just rain! Lord, do you remember that YOU sent us here?!"
I didn't really expect a response.
Three tousled heads peeked into our room very early the next morning. "Merry Christmas!!!" The drizzling outside didn't dampen their spirits. There were presents to unwrap and they were ready to get to it!
The rain did bring in some colder air, at least, making a fire in the fireplace possible. Everyone got quiet while Frank read the Christmas Story from Luke 2 one more time. We thanked the Lord for the gift of His Son, for our fireplace, for the gifts the women's group had sent and for the great cinnamon buns we had waiting. (Children are thankful for all sorts of things.)
And that's when it happened.
"LOOK!!" Frank startled me with his loud command. "Girls, look outside! Quick! Everybody grab a jacket!! Hurry, it won't last long!!"
Instead of the rain, huge white flakes were pouring down in our front yard! We all rushed outside with our mouths hanging open in surprise. The girls squealing with delight! Our dog jumping and barking!
It was snowing at the beach!
The ground soon looked like powdered sugar. And the flakes were big enough to be caught on little tongues of excited little girls.
Now it really felt like Christmas!
We hustled back in to the living room to open the packages under the tree. More squealing and laughter! We drank apple cider and ate cinnamon buns. And just as our festivities concluded, the snow stopped.
Someone immediately said, "Look how much God loves us! He sent snow to the beach just for us! Just for our Christmas!"
I couldn't testify to that in a court of law. But the facts are as follows:
I have officially achieved my goal for the day and it's only 11:30 in the morning! I've waited all year to tap the LAZY button on my calendar and today is the day.
I'm sitting in the recliner, favorite lap quilt, cup of tea, Christmas music playing. Gracie flanks me on the right, tucked as tightly as a little Shih Tzu possibly can. Bella has flopped down to warm my feet; occasionally rolling over for a belly scratch. Vegetable soup is ready to warm up; the washer and dryer are humming in harmony.
I AM EXPERIENCING - LAZINESS! And it is indeed delicious!
While Christmas plans were being made, we knew that a visit to Mom and Dad Hawley was a non-negotiable. But I just didn't have one more road trip in me this year. So Frank flew.
And although I hate not having time with my dear family in NC and although all our children are traveling or working and although I'm rarely alone like this.......I'm doing just fine.
A dear friend of ours once said he didn't feel like he was truly on vacation until he hit the point were he was bored. Well Bill, I'm not bored but I do feel wonderfully lazy!
I had promised you another Christmas Miracle story from the Hawley Archives. Because so many of you are experiencing snow storms right now, this one seemed most appropriate -
Christmas Kiss from Heaven
In June of 1993, we left Asheville, NC (our home of twelve years) and moved to Brunswick County to pioneer a church. The fledgling congregation of twelve people had contacted our state office and asked that someone be sent to oversee the work.
It took a lot of courage and a definite call to uproot our family and move to that rural community on the coast. When friends would ask where Ocean Isle Beach was we responded truthfully, "Go to the edge of the earth and take a left!"
We left behind the team we'd been part of for nine years. All three girls had been born in Asheville. We loved the city, the people, the mountains, the weather, the events, the church family!
So why move? Because we sensed God's quiet whisper that the next chapter of our life story was to be written six hours away from what had become our safety net.
So we moved.
We included the girls in our plans from the earliest possible moment. (Kristin, who was only ten, actually knew first and kept it a secret for a month! Not many adults can claim that level of confidence keeping.)
Our senior pastor supported the move. He facilitated lavish encouragement given by the congregation we'd served for nine years. After parties and dinners and play-dates and a massive reception, we tearfully bade farewell.
(The greatest comfort afforded us was the incredible act of courage displayed by two dear friends. The Sheppards quit their jobs and moved with us to help launch this pioneer effort! A year later they moved on to Nashville, TN. But those twelve months kept us on course! Without their help, the church probably wouldn't have made it. I know I wouldn't have!)
The girls worked hard at adapting. They too left behind friends, a great school, a church that offered the very BEST in children's ministry. People that had known and loved them since they were first born. We were thankful that they had one another!
Frank went to work growing a congregation; I went to work trying to learn how to home school. We all had to work at being okay with the barest of necessities!
There was no guaranteed salary with this pioneer work. Church bills came first, of course. Then a stipend for the pastor if anything was left over.
Don't you have parts of your life where you look back and think, "HOW in the world did we make it?!"
Yep, us too!
But with God's grace, many unexpected offerings in the mail and a great knowledge of how to prepare tuna, we kept afloat.
As that first Christmas rolled around, we found ourselves lonely and discouraged. The church had only grown to about sixty people. We felt very isolated. We knew the parties and plays and festivities we were missing in Asheville. And mostly, it was just too warm at the beach for Christmas.
Meagan was only five and worried aloud about how it would ever snow in this place. "Well, Sweetheart, it doesn't snow here. Remember, we talked about that before we moved? But we get to enjoy the beach any time we want."
"Mama!" Her little girl voice held the sound of a reprimand. "The beach is where you take a vacation. It isn't where you LIVE!" (Meagan has never had trouble expressing her mind!)
"Well, Baby, it's where we live now." I couldn't come up with anything more eloquent that the plain 'ol facts.
December 25th rapidly approached and our hearts grew heavier with each passing day. Resources were so limited! The girls would have had almost NO Christmas that year if it hadn't been for a wonderful group of ladies in New Bern, NC.
Those church ladies "adopted" our precious girls and sent two boxes loaded with school supplies and treats. Frank and I quickly wrapped each item and placed them all under the tree. Such an answer to prayer!
Our Christmas would take place about three days early as we were traveling to my parents' home that year. So on the appointed evening, we marked Christmas Eve with all our regular traditions. Each girl opened one preselected gift, we sang, we told stories, we watched a Christmas movie, then put our angels to bed.
Frank and I stepped out on to the porch for a minute. The overcast skies foretold that our Christmas morning would probably be a rainy one.
"Well, great!" I thought. "Now they won't even be able to enjoy being outside tomorrow! No snow, no friends, no play time! Just rain! Lord, do you remember that YOU sent us here?!"
I didn't really expect a response.
Three tousled heads peeked into our room very early the next morning. "Merry Christmas!!!" The drizzling outside didn't dampen their spirits. There were presents to unwrap and they were ready to get to it!
The rain did bring in some colder air, at least, making a fire in the fireplace possible. Everyone got quiet while Frank read the Christmas Story from Luke 2 one more time. We thanked the Lord for the gift of His Son, for our fireplace, for the gifts the women's group had sent and for the great cinnamon buns we had waiting. (Children are thankful for all sorts of things.)
And that's when it happened.
"LOOK!!" Frank startled me with his loud command. "Girls, look outside! Quick! Everybody grab a jacket!! Hurry, it won't last long!!"
Instead of the rain, huge white flakes were pouring down in our front yard! We all rushed outside with our mouths hanging open in surprise. The girls squealing with delight! Our dog jumping and barking!
It was snowing at the beach!
The ground soon looked like powdered sugar. And the flakes were big enough to be caught on little tongues of excited little girls.
Now it really felt like Christmas!
We hustled back in to the living room to open the packages under the tree. More squealing and laughter! We drank apple cider and ate cinnamon buns. And just as our festivities concluded, the snow stopped.
Someone immediately said, "Look how much God loves us! He sent snow to the beach just for us! Just for our Christmas!"
I couldn't testify to that in a court of law. But the facts are as follows:
- My babies were really missing their mountain home that Christmas.
- It really did snow at the beach on the morning we were celebrating.
- It really didn't snow another time during our six years in Ocean Isle.
- God really does love all His children just that much.
Saturday, December 22, 2012
The Joy
"Here we come a caroling among the (something something) so green!"
Just realized that although that tune plays often in my head at Christmas time, I don't think I've ever known the words! (If you haven't watched the movie Little Women, you simply must! Maybe you'll be able to pick up the lyrics and help me.)
Let me say - MERRRRY CHRISTMAS!!!!
I certainly hope that your home and hearth and hearts are experiencing more of the true joy to be found in this season.
We've already had our Hawley/Schreck/Smith Christmas to accommodate travel plans for the marrieds. Spencer's enthusiasm over both toys AND boxes was simply delicious!
The last of the Christmas parties took place Wednesday.
Our final outreach was last Saturday. (We had the privilege of hosting over 700 children while their parents "shopped" among gifts provided by area churches and businesses.)
The Smiths were safely delivered to the airport yesterday and are even now being squeezed until their eyes bulge by their NC family.
The final decorating project will be tomorrow in preparation for Candlelight Service on Christmas Eve.
Only one more shopping run takes place today after which, the last presents will be wrapped and placed under the tree.
I feel the sigh of relief and contentment building in my weary little chest!
Of course, there will be a shadow of sadness for us all this year as we pray for the families of Newtown! With no sense to be made of such horror and tragedy, prayer is our most effect show of empathy!
And for the others among us who have lost loved ones, we offer hugs and words of support. That void is felt most keenly as we walk through the traditions and family gatherings they enjoyed with us.
On the day that marked four years since Mom's passing, I was busy hosting widows from our church for a Christmas brunch. Such a privilege!
While putting away the dishes and swiping at tears, I sensed that Mom would have been so very pleased. No better way to honor her memory than by loving on other ladies just as she would have!
And I guess that's probably my theme. Henri Nouwen put it well, "Joy does not simply happen to us. We have to choose joy and keep choosing it every day."
I have another wonderful Christmas miracle story to share in my next post. (Thanks for so many encouraging comments on the Christmas Cookie story. One lady even copied it and put it in her greeting cards.) But today it felt important to quickly jump on line and send out a blog post hug.
In the marvelous words of Tiny Tim - "God bless us, every one!!"
Just realized that although that tune plays often in my head at Christmas time, I don't think I've ever known the words! (If you haven't watched the movie Little Women, you simply must! Maybe you'll be able to pick up the lyrics and help me.)
Let me say - MERRRRY CHRISTMAS!!!!
I certainly hope that your home and hearth and hearts are experiencing more of the true joy to be found in this season.
We've already had our Hawley/Schreck/Smith Christmas to accommodate travel plans for the marrieds. Spencer's enthusiasm over both toys AND boxes was simply delicious!
The last of the Christmas parties took place Wednesday.
Our final outreach was last Saturday. (We had the privilege of hosting over 700 children while their parents "shopped" among gifts provided by area churches and businesses.)
The Smiths were safely delivered to the airport yesterday and are even now being squeezed until their eyes bulge by their NC family.
The final decorating project will be tomorrow in preparation for Candlelight Service on Christmas Eve.
Only one more shopping run takes place today after which, the last presents will be wrapped and placed under the tree.
I feel the sigh of relief and contentment building in my weary little chest!
Of course, there will be a shadow of sadness for us all this year as we pray for the families of Newtown! With no sense to be made of such horror and tragedy, prayer is our most effect show of empathy!
And for the others among us who have lost loved ones, we offer hugs and words of support. That void is felt most keenly as we walk through the traditions and family gatherings they enjoyed with us.
On the day that marked four years since Mom's passing, I was busy hosting widows from our church for a Christmas brunch. Such a privilege!
While putting away the dishes and swiping at tears, I sensed that Mom would have been so very pleased. No better way to honor her memory than by loving on other ladies just as she would have!
And I guess that's probably my theme. Henri Nouwen put it well, "Joy does not simply happen to us. We have to choose joy and keep choosing it every day."
I have another wonderful Christmas miracle story to share in my next post. (Thanks for so many encouraging comments on the Christmas Cookie story. One lady even copied it and put it in her greeting cards.) But today it felt important to quickly jump on line and send out a blog post hug.
In the marvelous words of Tiny Tim - "God bless us, every one!!"
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Salvage
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
We sang that several ways at our house last night. We had balloons, cake, confetti, streamers, candles..........all the trappings of a proper birthday party.
Who was born on December 10th? None of my family!
(And no, it wasn't a birthday party for Jesus either. Although we will have a cake when we do our celebration to help Spencer grasp the meaning of Christmas.)
So why a birthday party?!
Well, lest you become discouraged about your own mistakes, mess ups, missed opportunities - I've come to offer you hope and encouragement today!
Last night we were finally having the birthday celebration for:
Yes, it's true. The year 2012 was almost remembered as my year of epic failure serving in the capacity of - Leader of All Things Celebratory!!
"Good grief, Sheri! Aren't these your own children?!" you ask with shock and dismay.
Yes, as a matter of fact they are!
"Did you forget? Were you incapacitated? Were you at least out of the country when these birthdays occurred?!"
Nope, none of the above!
I stand before you today as a woman without excuse!
The simple truth? When life rolls this fast, some things inevitably get pushed to the back burner. And sad to say, in our family for the year 2012, that was every single birthday after February!
And in an attempt at full disclosure - every birthday would have been skipped entirely had it not been for Kristin who said, "This tradition must be salvaged! We can not finish the year without marking days of birth!" So........
We ended the night by going around the living room giving words of blessing/affirmation. (A tradition we picked up from another family. Each celebrator present shares a word or phrase expressing a characteristic they appreciate about the birthday celebra-tee. It's become something we all look forward to!)
Just as things were concluding someone said, "Hey, wait a minute! We never got to celebrate Mom's birthday this year either!"
(Frank had taken care of that with a special dinner in Orlando and the most marvelous gift of dance lessons! Which we look forward to taking in January.)
Right there, on the spot, my precious family forgave my epic failure as Leader of All Things Celebratory and lavished words of encouragement on me too!
(So, if I miss your birthday, please don't be offended. Perhaps the greater surprise should be if I remember!)
And if a family tradition you love and value has to morph this year in order to be accomplished? Morph away, my friend! Salvage tradition any way you can!
Some day your little one will be an adult. And they will pick up your "tradition slack" and salvage what might have otherwise been lost.
That's why they call it TRADITION! (Can't you just hear that marvelous tune from "Fiddler on the Roof" right now?!)
Be absolved from all guilt in the matters of tradition failure! Go forth with renewed zeal! And if you stumble along the path, simply rehearse this new mantra for yourself - "Well, at least I didn't miss my own child's birthday this year like Sheri did!"
If my epic failure serves as a benchmark of encouragement, then it won't have been such an epic fail after all!
Ah, yes! All things work together for good...............
We sang that several ways at our house last night. We had balloons, cake, confetti, streamers, candles..........all the trappings of a proper birthday party.
Who was born on December 10th? None of my family!
(And no, it wasn't a birthday party for Jesus either. Although we will have a cake when we do our celebration to help Spencer grasp the meaning of Christmas.)
So why a birthday party?!
Well, lest you become discouraged about your own mistakes, mess ups, missed opportunities - I've come to offer you hope and encouragement today!
Last night we were finally having the birthday celebration for:
- John whose birthday is July 2nd!
- Joy - born on August 8th!
- Nathan - born September 18th!
- And Meagan - born December 20th!
Yes, it's true. The year 2012 was almost remembered as my year of epic failure serving in the capacity of - Leader of All Things Celebratory!!
"Good grief, Sheri! Aren't these your own children?!" you ask with shock and dismay.
Yes, as a matter of fact they are!
"Did you forget? Were you incapacitated? Were you at least out of the country when these birthdays occurred?!"
Nope, none of the above!
I stand before you today as a woman without excuse!
The simple truth? When life rolls this fast, some things inevitably get pushed to the back burner. And sad to say, in our family for the year 2012, that was every single birthday after February!
And in an attempt at full disclosure - every birthday would have been skipped entirely had it not been for Kristin who said, "This tradition must be salvaged! We can not finish the year without marking days of birth!" So........
- She set the date for happy hooraying.
- She delegated menu selections.
- She uncovered birthday wishes.
- She purchased final gifts. (Some we've had in our closet since before their special days. I didn't forget entirely.)
- She wrapped said items.
- She decorated the dining room.
- She placed the candle numbers "1.0.4." on the cake Meagan baked. (The total of their birthday ages.)
We ended the night by going around the living room giving words of blessing/affirmation. (A tradition we picked up from another family. Each celebrator present shares a word or phrase expressing a characteristic they appreciate about the birthday celebra-tee. It's become something we all look forward to!)
Just as things were concluding someone said, "Hey, wait a minute! We never got to celebrate Mom's birthday this year either!"
(Frank had taken care of that with a special dinner in Orlando and the most marvelous gift of dance lessons! Which we look forward to taking in January.)
Right there, on the spot, my precious family forgave my epic failure as Leader of All Things Celebratory and lavished words of encouragement on me too!
(So, if I miss your birthday, please don't be offended. Perhaps the greater surprise should be if I remember!)
And if a family tradition you love and value has to morph this year in order to be accomplished? Morph away, my friend! Salvage tradition any way you can!
Some day your little one will be an adult. And they will pick up your "tradition slack" and salvage what might have otherwise been lost.
That's why they call it TRADITION! (Can't you just hear that marvelous tune from "Fiddler on the Roof" right now?!)
Be absolved from all guilt in the matters of tradition failure! Go forth with renewed zeal! And if you stumble along the path, simply rehearse this new mantra for yourself - "Well, at least I didn't miss my own child's birthday this year like Sheri did!"
If my epic failure serves as a benchmark of encouragement, then it won't have been such an epic fail after all!
Ah, yes! All things work together for good...............
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Faces of Christmas!
MERRY CHRISTMAS!!
It's here! Christmas time is finally here! (Or is it still Christmas from 2011? Things roll so quickly these days that I sometimes wonder.)
Our decorations are back in place; three parties are completed; family communion at GGC tonight and tomorrow night; already feeling guilty about Christmas cards that haven't been mailed; "It's a Wonderful Life" has been viewed; we're humming White Christmas even though it's 81 degrees here................. Yep, Christmas Central in full swing!
Frank and I looooooovvvve Christmas!
We started dating just before Christmas. We married the following December 30th, decorating with Christmas trees and poinsettias. Meagan was born December 20th eight years later. We have multiple Christmas Miracles that are part of our family story. Most of our traditions revolve around Christmas - ornaments, foods, movies and music.
Christmas is MAJOR at the Hawley house!
With all that emphasis on Christmas you would think December 25th would be kinda sacred for us. But we've seldom ever opened gifts with our children in our home on that date. For most of our lives we've lived far away from our extended families. Road trips have almost always been part of the plan.
And now over half our immediate family also need to be with family in eastern North Carolina and central New York! Consequently, Christmas Day for us is unlikely to ever fall on December 25th. Our children will either be with extended family or on their way to extended family or celebrating with their own little family.
And that's okay with us.
We've celebrated as early as December 18th and as late as January 10th. We've read the Christmas story together in Florida, North Carolina, and even West Virginia.
Christmas has nothing to do with the date or location. It has everything to do with the heart!
I read in Hosea this morning how intentional God has been about relationship with us. Relationship is His focus, His delight, His work, His reward. So, I take my cue from the One who initiated this marvelous season.
He put His very best effort into building a bridge of relationship with us. He sent His Son to a humble stable, to a woman embroiled in controversy, to a world that largely ignored the Gift. Marked the moment with a star, a choir of angels and some terrified shepherds. He gave lavishly to show that His heart is for us.
How can I do anything less?
I know of people who suffer and struggle and strangle relationships by demanding that a certain date and a singular location be the one and only opportunity to celebrate Christmas properly. Christmas, for them, must resemble a Norman Rockwell painting with all participants in perfect order or else all is lost.
Today I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all people..........
If Christmas originated in a sheep stall far from Mary's hometown with a questionable cast of characters, perhaps God was sending a message that would resonate with the transient, imperfect people groups of the 21st Century. (Yes, I know - run-on sentence extraordinaire!)
Leave the perfect painting for the wall! And embrace your cast of characters in the many locations and on whatever dates He may provide. Therein lies peace for all men; I promise!
(Wow, this post took a totally different turn from the road I first started on. Just have to trust that someone needed the message. I'm also mindful that right now, all our kids live near us. We call it frosting time as we never expected to have that opportunity. We mark the bonus and gladly share them any available opportunity with the Smiths and Schrecks! Blessings on your celebration plans!)
It's here! Christmas time is finally here! (Or is it still Christmas from 2011? Things roll so quickly these days that I sometimes wonder.)
Our decorations are back in place; three parties are completed; family communion at GGC tonight and tomorrow night; already feeling guilty about Christmas cards that haven't been mailed; "It's a Wonderful Life" has been viewed; we're humming White Christmas even though it's 81 degrees here................. Yep, Christmas Central in full swing!
Frank and I looooooovvvve Christmas!
We started dating just before Christmas. We married the following December 30th, decorating with Christmas trees and poinsettias. Meagan was born December 20th eight years later. We have multiple Christmas Miracles that are part of our family story. Most of our traditions revolve around Christmas - ornaments, foods, movies and music.
Christmas is MAJOR at the Hawley house!
With all that emphasis on Christmas you would think December 25th would be kinda sacred for us. But we've seldom ever opened gifts with our children in our home on that date. For most of our lives we've lived far away from our extended families. Road trips have almost always been part of the plan.
And now over half our immediate family also need to be with family in eastern North Carolina and central New York! Consequently, Christmas Day for us is unlikely to ever fall on December 25th. Our children will either be with extended family or on their way to extended family or celebrating with their own little family.
And that's okay with us.
We've celebrated as early as December 18th and as late as January 10th. We've read the Christmas story together in Florida, North Carolina, and even West Virginia.
Christmas has nothing to do with the date or location. It has everything to do with the heart!
I read in Hosea this morning how intentional God has been about relationship with us. Relationship is His focus, His delight, His work, His reward. So, I take my cue from the One who initiated this marvelous season.
He put His very best effort into building a bridge of relationship with us. He sent His Son to a humble stable, to a woman embroiled in controversy, to a world that largely ignored the Gift. Marked the moment with a star, a choir of angels and some terrified shepherds. He gave lavishly to show that His heart is for us.
How can I do anything less?
I know of people who suffer and struggle and strangle relationships by demanding that a certain date and a singular location be the one and only opportunity to celebrate Christmas properly. Christmas, for them, must resemble a Norman Rockwell painting with all participants in perfect order or else all is lost.
Today I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all people..........
If Christmas originated in a sheep stall far from Mary's hometown with a questionable cast of characters, perhaps God was sending a message that would resonate with the transient, imperfect people groups of the 21st Century. (Yes, I know - run-on sentence extraordinaire!)
Leave the perfect painting for the wall! And embrace your cast of characters in the many locations and on whatever dates He may provide. Therein lies peace for all men; I promise!
(Wow, this post took a totally different turn from the road I first started on. Just have to trust that someone needed the message. I'm also mindful that right now, all our kids live near us. We call it frosting time as we never expected to have that opportunity. We mark the bonus and gladly share them any available opportunity with the Smiths and Schrecks! Blessings on your celebration plans!)
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Of Thankful Hearts and Harps
Thank you for so many kind, encouraging words about the 300th post - The Christmas Cookies!
God's miracles really do need to be rehearsed and celebrated, don't they? Maybe that story will encourage you to jot down a few of your own family miracles. We all have them to tell! And our children need to know about God's faithfulness. His personal involvement in the life of their family!
My hope is to record one such miracle every month for the coming year. Our family has spent A LOT of time in the "miracle zone" through the years.
Your response to the cookie story made me realize how much our miracles need to be shared. So be watching for those in the coming weeks. (There. It's in print and I'm now accountable to you!)
I certainly hope everyone found some special joys during their Thanksgiving week!
We all converged on my dad's home place. My family complete with three adult children, two additional spouses, two perfect grandchildren. My sister's family with two teenagers and a ten year old. Can you say, crowded?!
This was Nathan's first visit there. Along with Spencer and Abby, of course. (It's much easier for Papaw to drive to Winter Haven than for Winter Haven to drive to Papaw.)
We were especially thankful to be in Florida so that everyone could ramble and roam the entire ten acres. My sister's three children were fascinated with Spencer and Abby.
Spencer had his own personal transportation team for all things boyish: running, yelling, throwing, even rough-housing. He was in Heaven! And Abby got plenty of attention, too!
Dad's house is rather small. It started out as a fishing cabin some thirty years ago. Then in 2006, he and mom decided to move there permanently. They added two large bedrooms down one side and a dining room/sun room across the back.
We are ALL thankful that Mom insisted on a second bathroom!
And did I mention that FL weather makes the outdoors accessible for most of the year?! Thankful for that too!!
It was a crowded, crunching, toe-stepping, forgiving time. But we were all glad for the opportunity to be together.
One funny story that I have to share -
It's our tradition to go around the table at Thanksgiving and share what we are thankful for from the past year. Even little ones are prompted and encouraged to give thanks to God.
As we circled the table, two things became apparent about 2012: God had been faithful to all our family and we were all missing Mom. (She moved to Heaven four years ago. Unbelievable!)
Dad had the final word for the day. He took a deep breath and began to share his heart as we listened carefully. Words of blessing and affirmation have been awkward for my dad through the years. Since Mom's passing, we've all come to understand the importance of saying what we wish we could TODAY. Tomorrow isn't guaranteed.
Dad talked for some time about how thankful he was we were all together. How proud he is of each one. He choked up as he talked of God's faithfulness to us as a family. And he wrapped up his comments by saying, "I attribute most of this to the one who isn't here today!" (Meaning Mom.)
He bowed his head as tears dripped onto his plate. Everyone around the table was touched; many of us swiping at our own eyes.
And then it happened -
A sound. An unfamiliar sound. My sister and I shot quizzical looks at one another from across the table. Was that........wasn't that.......were we hearing........a harp sound? Really?! Yes, ummm. Definitely a harp! Everyone could hear it but no one knew what to say.
Finally realization hit me and a huge smile spread across my face. Here's what happened.
My phone was on a counter in the kitchen. We have very little reception inside my dad's house so we don't pay much attention to our cell phones until checking messages. It just so happened that this one time, my phone was close enough for us to hear the text message alert when it sounded.
My alert sound? You guessed it - a harp!
Mom would have absolutely rolled with laughter! And who knows, maybe she did!
God's miracles really do need to be rehearsed and celebrated, don't they? Maybe that story will encourage you to jot down a few of your own family miracles. We all have them to tell! And our children need to know about God's faithfulness. His personal involvement in the life of their family!
My hope is to record one such miracle every month for the coming year. Our family has spent A LOT of time in the "miracle zone" through the years.
Your response to the cookie story made me realize how much our miracles need to be shared. So be watching for those in the coming weeks. (There. It's in print and I'm now accountable to you!)
I certainly hope everyone found some special joys during their Thanksgiving week!
We all converged on my dad's home place. My family complete with three adult children, two additional spouses, two perfect grandchildren. My sister's family with two teenagers and a ten year old. Can you say, crowded?!
This was Nathan's first visit there. Along with Spencer and Abby, of course. (It's much easier for Papaw to drive to Winter Haven than for Winter Haven to drive to Papaw.)
We were especially thankful to be in Florida so that everyone could ramble and roam the entire ten acres. My sister's three children were fascinated with Spencer and Abby.
Spencer had his own personal transportation team for all things boyish: running, yelling, throwing, even rough-housing. He was in Heaven! And Abby got plenty of attention, too!
Dad's house is rather small. It started out as a fishing cabin some thirty years ago. Then in 2006, he and mom decided to move there permanently. They added two large bedrooms down one side and a dining room/sun room across the back.
We are ALL thankful that Mom insisted on a second bathroom!
And did I mention that FL weather makes the outdoors accessible for most of the year?! Thankful for that too!!
It was a crowded, crunching, toe-stepping, forgiving time. But we were all glad for the opportunity to be together.
One funny story that I have to share -
It's our tradition to go around the table at Thanksgiving and share what we are thankful for from the past year. Even little ones are prompted and encouraged to give thanks to God.
As we circled the table, two things became apparent about 2012: God had been faithful to all our family and we were all missing Mom. (She moved to Heaven four years ago. Unbelievable!)
Dad had the final word for the day. He took a deep breath and began to share his heart as we listened carefully. Words of blessing and affirmation have been awkward for my dad through the years. Since Mom's passing, we've all come to understand the importance of saying what we wish we could TODAY. Tomorrow isn't guaranteed.
Dad talked for some time about how thankful he was we were all together. How proud he is of each one. He choked up as he talked of God's faithfulness to us as a family. And he wrapped up his comments by saying, "I attribute most of this to the one who isn't here today!" (Meaning Mom.)
He bowed his head as tears dripped onto his plate. Everyone around the table was touched; many of us swiping at our own eyes.
And then it happened -
A sound. An unfamiliar sound. My sister and I shot quizzical looks at one another from across the table. Was that........wasn't that.......were we hearing........a harp sound? Really?! Yes, ummm. Definitely a harp! Everyone could hear it but no one knew what to say.
Finally realization hit me and a huge smile spread across my face. Here's what happened.
My phone was on a counter in the kitchen. We have very little reception inside my dad's house so we don't pay much attention to our cell phones until checking messages. It just so happened that this one time, my phone was close enough for us to hear the text message alert when it sounded.
My alert sound? You guessed it - a harp!
Mom would have absolutely rolled with laughter! And who knows, maybe she did!
Monday, November 19, 2012
300 and Counting!
Welcome to the 300th post of Embrace the Grace!
(Cue: balloons, confetti and celebratory song by the brass ensemble.)
This new posting system gave me the information just this week. And I must admit that I was a bit surprised. Three hundred times over the past three years I've sat down to an empty page and poured my heart out to whomever might want to read my ramblings.
And graciously, you've read! You've commented! You've even encouraged me to keep writing!!
So because this is a rather auspicious occasion for me, I wanted to write something a little more special. After thinking on it quite some time, I decided to record for you one of our all time favorite stories of God's faithfulness in our lives. A Hawley Family Miracle Moment!
This will be a little longer than the normal three minute read most blog instructors encourage. So, grab a cup of tea. AND I have to thank a couple of people for pushing me on this blog journey.
THE CHRISTMAS COOKIES
In the fall of 1981, Frank and I became pastors of our first little congregation in the mountains of NC.
We were young, naive, exuberant, sincere, thrilled. (That's a lot of energy to thrust upon an established congregation of thirty settled souls!)
Our first opportunity for outreach presented itself with Christmas, which was right around the corner. Frank announced that the youth group would come to our house to bake cookies. We would then go to the local nursing home for carols and cookie distribution for the residents.
Small glitch. There was no "Cookie Outreach" section in the church budget. So, it became my mission to squirrel away enough money from our personal grocery budget to purchase the needed baking ingredients. This was quite a feat as our weekly list included a lot of tuna, pasta and potatoes!
Did I mention we were young and poor?
The Saturday morning before Christmas I bundled up, made the drive to Bi-Lo Grocery and scoured the aisles for the best buys on flour, sugar, vanilla, milk, butter and baking soda. My tight little fist opened reluctantly at the register to relinquish the dollars so carefully saved.
I sang carols on the drive home and arrived with a huge grin. Putting away the precious commodities was such fun. The richest sultan had no greater joy than mine!
We had everything in place for a great afternoon and evening with the youth and retirees. I loved this pastoring thing!
Within the hour, a knock came at the back door of our little home. I peeked out the window and saw that it was another "interstate visitor."
Now, our church sat just off the main highway. And the parsonage (where we lived) sat just beyond the parking lot. People in need of gas and groceries knocked on our back door rather frequently. Frank and I dubbed them our "interstate visitors."
Although the church itself had no benevolence budget, we tried to help as many as possible. We had quickly learned that this extra giving was the means God was using to keep our own pantry filled. "Give and it shall be given......."
As my handsome, young husband started for the door, I gave him a dire warning. "We can help this one a little bit. But DON'T offer the flour, sugar or anything else I just bought for those cookies!"
A brisk nod let me know he understood our situation.
In just a couple of minutes, Frank appeared in the living room doorway. "Honey, you'll never believe this!" My stomach sensed what was coming. "This fellow didn't ask for money." (Good thing. We didn't have any!)
Frank took a deep breath and plunged ahead, "He asked for sugar, milk, eggs, butter and flour! Can you believe that, Honey?"
I sat dumbfounded! All the staples for our cookie outreach.
My immediate reply? "NO! I'll put together a bag of canned goods and other things. But he can't have the sugar cookie ingredients." Christmas cheer did NOT reign in my heart!
I trudged obediently toward the kitchen where I shook open a brown paper bag and began filling it with items from our own sparse supplies. Looking out the window, I caught a glimpse of the old sedan. It sat filling our backyard with blue smoke. The man's wife, children and apparently a grandmother sat huddled together against the cold.
I added some apple sauce to the bag for the children.
Frank invited the man to step in where it was warm but he declined. As he stood just outside the door, I could see him shuffle from one foot to the other, stomping worn shoes and working a frayed hat around and around in his hands. He hadn't shaved for days; he looked exhausted and concerned.
I added another can of green beans to the bag for the grandmother.
Frank stepped over to where I was working and spoke in a low tone, "Honey, I started to turn him away. But just as I closed the door I felt the Lord whisper to me, 'Frank, you may be entertaining angels unaware!' We need to give him the sugar and flour, Sheri. "
Huge tears pooled in my eyes; but I knew it was decided. I opened another bag and quickly gathered the milk, eggs, butter, sugar, and flour before reason could kick in.
I couldn't stay and watch. Frank handed over the groceries and prayed for the gentleman while I headed for the living room and plopped down on the couch. I didn't feel generous or festive! My heart looked a lot more like Scrooge just then.
The joy in Frank's heart preceded him into the living room.
He bounded over to the couch, gathered me into his strong arms and said with confidence, "Wasn't that amazing that he asked for the very items you just bought?!" My sour expression had no effect. "Don't worry, Honey! The Lord won't forget us!"
I wasn't so sure!
There was no back up plan. At 5:00 eastern time, eight teenagers would be staring at me waiting for instructions and ingredients for baking cookies. How was I going to do that without any flour?! All I knew to do was finish cleaning the house. And pray!
About an hour later, Frank came out of his study and grabbed his coat. "Come with me, Baby. Edna wants to see us."
The day had just gone from bad to worse!
You must understand, Edna was the meanest woman in the world! At least, she was the meanest woman I had ever met.
She didn't like Frank. In fact, she didn't like men in general; including her own husband and son. She didn't especially like me since I was married to Frank. And although I had tried to befriend her, she wasn't having it!
Edna was the last person I wanted to visit today!
We stood on her porch just moments later. In response to our knock, she yanked open the door and shoved an empty box at Frank.
"Here! Follow me!" she ordered. Then headed down the stairs toward her basement.
Frank and I had only a split second to exchange a puzzled glance, then follow.
Indignation filled me. "If she thinks for one minute that we're going to help her clean out her basement, she has another thought coming!" My frustration bubbled and threatened to boil over at any moment!
We stepped onto the cold cement floor and paused while our eyes adjusted to the dim light. Edna strode across the room and pulled open the lid of a chest freezer that sat against the far wall.
She wheeled around and without explanation waved her arm across the contents. "Here!" she ordered. "Get some meat!" Her scowl didn't look inviting. The impatient tapping of her foot confused us. Was this some sort of test?
The headline flashed through my mind, "PASTOR ACCUSED OF STEALING FROZEN FOOD FROM PARISHONER!"
Edna motioned to us again. "Come on!"
We stepped cautiously to the side of the freezer and picked up a couple of packages of hamburger while murmuring our thanks.
"Oh, good grief! Move over!" Edna pushed me aside and began to pull out cuts of meat we hadn't seen in quite some time. A roast! Beef tips! Steaks! My jaw dropped open as the frozen meat thudded against the box.
When the box was half full, she turned toward the shelving that housed her canned goods. Not Green Giant canned goods. No, this was the bounty from her own summer garden. Green beans she had grown, gathered, snapped, canned and stored for winter.
She finished filling the box with jars containing colorful vegetables of all varieties.
Frank and I followed Edna back up the stairs in stunned silence.
She paused briefly in her kitchen and leveled her gaze at us. "Aren't you having the youth over to your house tonight?!" It sounded more like an accusation than a question.
Frank answered cautiously, "Yes. Yes, we are."
"Well, here! I suppose you'll need this too!" Edna snatched another box from the counter and opened her refrigerator door. Butter, eggs, milk. Her pantry swung open. Sugar. Flour.
Tears brimmed over the edge of my eyes and spilled onto her meticulously scrubbed floor.
Everything I had just given to our interstate visitor and more. So MUCH more went into the second box!
Edna brushed away our words of appreciation and took quick steps toward the front door. She never smiled. She never said, "You're welcome." She simply slammed the door shut as soon as we exited.
Truth was, Frank and I were back in our car, pulling out of the drive before we could begin to process what had just taken place. Our tears of gratitude flowed.
At 5:00 eastern time, the youth piled into our kitchen with all the laughter, teasing and loudness one would expect. We baked cookies. Loaded everyone in vehicles. Drove to the nursing home. Sang carols. Hugged frail bodies. Shook trembling hands. Distributed sugar cookies they probably couldn't eat.
Our first outreach was deemed a huge success!
We pastored that small, mountain church for almost two years. And you can believe it or not, but I never had to buy another bag of flour the entire time we lived there.
Just as my supply would start to dwindle, someone would drop a bag of groceries by our house. In addition to everything else, it would contain flour. A friend would hit a "two for one" sale - on flour! Someone would have an extra bag sitting in their pantry. The flour never ran out!
Our Heavenly Father used that moment of obedience to teach us an object lesson about His faithfulness that would last us a lifetime. The story feels as fresh as it did the Christmas it occurred! We've told the story to our children and grandchildren, to friends and family, to other congregations and even large conferences.
And I feel pretty sure that our great grandchildren will tell about Papa and Noni's Miracle of the Christmas Cookies!
(Cue: balloons, confetti and celebratory song by the brass ensemble.)
This new posting system gave me the information just this week. And I must admit that I was a bit surprised. Three hundred times over the past three years I've sat down to an empty page and poured my heart out to whomever might want to read my ramblings.
And graciously, you've read! You've commented! You've even encouraged me to keep writing!!
So because this is a rather auspicious occasion for me, I wanted to write something a little more special. After thinking on it quite some time, I decided to record for you one of our all time favorite stories of God's faithfulness in our lives. A Hawley Family Miracle Moment!
This will be a little longer than the normal three minute read most blog instructors encourage. So, grab a cup of tea. AND I have to thank a couple of people for pushing me on this blog journey.
- Of course, Frank and the girls who have spent their lives cheering each new venture!
- Becky Smith, of Smithellaneous fame. It's great to have a friend who knows exactly how to direct you through something you know nothing about. What a teacher!
- Amanda Bock Hoggard who created the beautiful layout for this blog (twice); showed me the publish button; and insisted I push it!
- Deanna Shrodes for continuing to say, "You DO have time to do this!"
- Oddly, the movie Julie and Julia. The basic plot involves a young lady who blogs about cooking through a Julia Child cookbook. That movie laid down a challenge for me. Couldn't I write about life, laughter, family, tears, ministry and grandbabies instead?
THE CHRISTMAS COOKIES
In the fall of 1981, Frank and I became pastors of our first little congregation in the mountains of NC.
We were young, naive, exuberant, sincere, thrilled. (That's a lot of energy to thrust upon an established congregation of thirty settled souls!)
Our first opportunity for outreach presented itself with Christmas, which was right around the corner. Frank announced that the youth group would come to our house to bake cookies. We would then go to the local nursing home for carols and cookie distribution for the residents.
Small glitch. There was no "Cookie Outreach" section in the church budget. So, it became my mission to squirrel away enough money from our personal grocery budget to purchase the needed baking ingredients. This was quite a feat as our weekly list included a lot of tuna, pasta and potatoes!
Did I mention we were young and poor?
The Saturday morning before Christmas I bundled up, made the drive to Bi-Lo Grocery and scoured the aisles for the best buys on flour, sugar, vanilla, milk, butter and baking soda. My tight little fist opened reluctantly at the register to relinquish the dollars so carefully saved.
I sang carols on the drive home and arrived with a huge grin. Putting away the precious commodities was such fun. The richest sultan had no greater joy than mine!
We had everything in place for a great afternoon and evening with the youth and retirees. I loved this pastoring thing!
Within the hour, a knock came at the back door of our little home. I peeked out the window and saw that it was another "interstate visitor."
Now, our church sat just off the main highway. And the parsonage (where we lived) sat just beyond the parking lot. People in need of gas and groceries knocked on our back door rather frequently. Frank and I dubbed them our "interstate visitors."
Although the church itself had no benevolence budget, we tried to help as many as possible. We had quickly learned that this extra giving was the means God was using to keep our own pantry filled. "Give and it shall be given......."
As my handsome, young husband started for the door, I gave him a dire warning. "We can help this one a little bit. But DON'T offer the flour, sugar or anything else I just bought for those cookies!"
A brisk nod let me know he understood our situation.
In just a couple of minutes, Frank appeared in the living room doorway. "Honey, you'll never believe this!" My stomach sensed what was coming. "This fellow didn't ask for money." (Good thing. We didn't have any!)
Frank took a deep breath and plunged ahead, "He asked for sugar, milk, eggs, butter and flour! Can you believe that, Honey?"
I sat dumbfounded! All the staples for our cookie outreach.
My immediate reply? "NO! I'll put together a bag of canned goods and other things. But he can't have the sugar cookie ingredients." Christmas cheer did NOT reign in my heart!
I trudged obediently toward the kitchen where I shook open a brown paper bag and began filling it with items from our own sparse supplies. Looking out the window, I caught a glimpse of the old sedan. It sat filling our backyard with blue smoke. The man's wife, children and apparently a grandmother sat huddled together against the cold.
I added some apple sauce to the bag for the children.
Frank invited the man to step in where it was warm but he declined. As he stood just outside the door, I could see him shuffle from one foot to the other, stomping worn shoes and working a frayed hat around and around in his hands. He hadn't shaved for days; he looked exhausted and concerned.
I added another can of green beans to the bag for the grandmother.
Frank stepped over to where I was working and spoke in a low tone, "Honey, I started to turn him away. But just as I closed the door I felt the Lord whisper to me, 'Frank, you may be entertaining angels unaware!' We need to give him the sugar and flour, Sheri. "
Huge tears pooled in my eyes; but I knew it was decided. I opened another bag and quickly gathered the milk, eggs, butter, sugar, and flour before reason could kick in.
I couldn't stay and watch. Frank handed over the groceries and prayed for the gentleman while I headed for the living room and plopped down on the couch. I didn't feel generous or festive! My heart looked a lot more like Scrooge just then.
The joy in Frank's heart preceded him into the living room.
He bounded over to the couch, gathered me into his strong arms and said with confidence, "Wasn't that amazing that he asked for the very items you just bought?!" My sour expression had no effect. "Don't worry, Honey! The Lord won't forget us!"
I wasn't so sure!
There was no back up plan. At 5:00 eastern time, eight teenagers would be staring at me waiting for instructions and ingredients for baking cookies. How was I going to do that without any flour?! All I knew to do was finish cleaning the house. And pray!
About an hour later, Frank came out of his study and grabbed his coat. "Come with me, Baby. Edna wants to see us."
The day had just gone from bad to worse!
You must understand, Edna was the meanest woman in the world! At least, she was the meanest woman I had ever met.
She didn't like Frank. In fact, she didn't like men in general; including her own husband and son. She didn't especially like me since I was married to Frank. And although I had tried to befriend her, she wasn't having it!
Edna was the last person I wanted to visit today!
We stood on her porch just moments later. In response to our knock, she yanked open the door and shoved an empty box at Frank.
"Here! Follow me!" she ordered. Then headed down the stairs toward her basement.
Frank and I had only a split second to exchange a puzzled glance, then follow.
Indignation filled me. "If she thinks for one minute that we're going to help her clean out her basement, she has another thought coming!" My frustration bubbled and threatened to boil over at any moment!
We stepped onto the cold cement floor and paused while our eyes adjusted to the dim light. Edna strode across the room and pulled open the lid of a chest freezer that sat against the far wall.
She wheeled around and without explanation waved her arm across the contents. "Here!" she ordered. "Get some meat!" Her scowl didn't look inviting. The impatient tapping of her foot confused us. Was this some sort of test?
The headline flashed through my mind, "PASTOR ACCUSED OF STEALING FROZEN FOOD FROM PARISHONER!"
Edna motioned to us again. "Come on!"
We stepped cautiously to the side of the freezer and picked up a couple of packages of hamburger while murmuring our thanks.
"Oh, good grief! Move over!" Edna pushed me aside and began to pull out cuts of meat we hadn't seen in quite some time. A roast! Beef tips! Steaks! My jaw dropped open as the frozen meat thudded against the box.
When the box was half full, she turned toward the shelving that housed her canned goods. Not Green Giant canned goods. No, this was the bounty from her own summer garden. Green beans she had grown, gathered, snapped, canned and stored for winter.
She finished filling the box with jars containing colorful vegetables of all varieties.
Frank and I followed Edna back up the stairs in stunned silence.
She paused briefly in her kitchen and leveled her gaze at us. "Aren't you having the youth over to your house tonight?!" It sounded more like an accusation than a question.
Frank answered cautiously, "Yes. Yes, we are."
"Well, here! I suppose you'll need this too!" Edna snatched another box from the counter and opened her refrigerator door. Butter, eggs, milk. Her pantry swung open. Sugar. Flour.
Tears brimmed over the edge of my eyes and spilled onto her meticulously scrubbed floor.
Everything I had just given to our interstate visitor and more. So MUCH more went into the second box!
Edna brushed away our words of appreciation and took quick steps toward the front door. She never smiled. She never said, "You're welcome." She simply slammed the door shut as soon as we exited.
Truth was, Frank and I were back in our car, pulling out of the drive before we could begin to process what had just taken place. Our tears of gratitude flowed.
At 5:00 eastern time, the youth piled into our kitchen with all the laughter, teasing and loudness one would expect. We baked cookies. Loaded everyone in vehicles. Drove to the nursing home. Sang carols. Hugged frail bodies. Shook trembling hands. Distributed sugar cookies they probably couldn't eat.
Our first outreach was deemed a huge success!
We pastored that small, mountain church for almost two years. And you can believe it or not, but I never had to buy another bag of flour the entire time we lived there.
Just as my supply would start to dwindle, someone would drop a bag of groceries by our house. In addition to everything else, it would contain flour. A friend would hit a "two for one" sale - on flour! Someone would have an extra bag sitting in their pantry. The flour never ran out!
Our Heavenly Father used that moment of obedience to teach us an object lesson about His faithfulness that would last us a lifetime. The story feels as fresh as it did the Christmas it occurred! We've told the story to our children and grandchildren, to friends and family, to other congregations and even large conferences.
And I feel pretty sure that our great grandchildren will tell about Papa and Noni's Miracle of the Christmas Cookies!
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