A Hop, a Skip and a Jump!

“Seek the Lord and his strength; seek his presence continually!”
1 Chronicles 16:11 ESV 

For some reason, every year when I’m packing away Christmas, I seem to play hide and seek with Baby Jesus, or one of his friends, they hide, I seek. It is interesting that it didn’t start until the little ones graced our lives. One year the sheep were scattered all over the house. In a little tikes car, in the cushion of my prayer chair, amongst the opened presents, and even underneath the pack and play, the result of two-year-old Miles, playing hide and seek with Dede. 

The Christmases that followed found Jesus on a windowsill, in a puppy bed, and even in the dryer. It became a game shared among the cousins. This year I found the camels scattered in the tinsel and lights. So it was not surprising when I began to pack up the nativities and my very first baby Jesus was missing. I’m not so sure they hid him this year. To be honest, I was more concentrated on just getting the house decorated than doing an inventory of all the participants in Jesus’ story. You know, praying for the lights on the tree to work, hanging the ornaments, and stockings on the mantle, while dancing to my favorite Christmas carols. as they caressed me with the memories to be made of the revival of the Moses’ Christmases of old, before Covid.  So I’m not so sure they hid this special one this year. It could have been me and my racing mind on presents to be bought and parties to be hosted and perhaps not so much on Jesus. Surely not, but it was entirely possible if not probable. 

So, there I was, on January 2, with memories of Christmas while I was seeking my Jesus, the one that had been part of my family for 69 years.  My parents bought this nativity the year I was born. The stable is cardboard, and the pieces are plastic with peeling paint, and there’s no way they would meet today’s safety standards, but it is my first memory of the treasure of my very own baby Jesus. As the days progressed my eyes and heart were looking for my savior, until one day, there he was. Perched on my Bible that was still open to the Christmas story. Oh my goodness, my precious friend had been home all along, right where he belonged. Gotta love that guy, he’s been showing me the way for a long time and just keeps plugging along with this lady who truly loves him. What a way to start the year. Jesus is always in my heart, but now he’s in my pocket. I’m keeping him closer to me this year than I do my cell phone. As I walk the days of 2022, I can “Seek the Lord and his strength; and seek his presence continually just by sticking my hand in my pocket!” You might want to watch out, who knows when I might wander your way and share him with you. 

My last box is closed, labeled, and back in its cozy attic home for a year respite, except for my friend. Make him yours this year. After all, our lives are what we make them, and joy comes in sharing Jesus with others. 

Thoughts to Ponder

1. Is there a time when you feel apart from Jesus?
2. Try to describe that feeling.
3. What’s your new year plan to stay close to Him?

I was snuggled in my nice warm bed sound asleep, that is, until 4:30 when I woke up in a cold sweat, and for once it wasn’t my hormones. It dawned on me that my Honey Baked ham for Thanksgiving was not in my refrigerator. I had heard the horror stories about food shortages, but surely, they weren’t talking about Honey Baked hams. But just the thought of my turkey being lonely at the table, without its friend kept me wide awake, and nagged at my addled brain until I finally walked into the store and saw an overflowing cooler of hams. But to my dismay there were signs that read, “reserved orders” and another for “paid in full” and I didn’t fit into any of those categories. (If there had been one for crazy momma’s I would have been set.) I tentatively walked up to the cashier and confessed that I didn’t have a reservation and I hadn’t paid anything in full. Was it possible for me to get one of those golden honey coated hams? “Certainly” she said, “how big and how many?”  The weight of the world left my shoulders as I thankfully paid and walked out the door, ham in hand thinking I had dodged the turkey day bullet. 

Hmm, then Jesus tugged on my heart, opened my eyes, or whatever He does to get my attention, and then bam it struck me. How many precious children of God wake up each night not just worried about a Thanksgiving Day ham, but instead, how they are going to feed their family. Not just on special days, but every day. Their beds aren’t warm & snuggly like mine. They may be on the street under a bridge in the fall chill. 

So many lives to touch. So many prayers to whisper. So many kind words to be shared. With my newfound awareness, comes action, and with action comes being the hands and feet of Christ. Baby steps, but the more I am with Him, I will see the way.

Matthew 6:16 tells us, “In the same way, let your light shine before others, so thatthey may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.”

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“Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.” Psalm 27:14

I’m just gonna be honest with you! I’ve tried to pen this epistle for months but keep stopping, changing the topic. Finally, I have come to accept David’s excellent advice, “Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord,” Psalm 27:14. It became evident if I just waited for the Lord, just truly waited, something would touch my heart, and then maybe, just maybe, the scribbles flowing out of my pen might begin to make sense. Oh, my goodness, talk about a colossal miracle. You see, my pen has been a little clogged up lately. Who would think that a teeny tiny hole could fill up with a mess of sludge?

Like April showers, tears began to flow at our house in the form of a 911 call. After a two-hour prayerful drive to the hospital, and my baby brother, this heartfelt journey, which continued until August 29, began. I traded in my daily Starbucks and became a regular at the hospital coffee shop. The little bratty brother that used to drive me crazy, continued to make just enough improvement and insisted that he could go home, ALONE, back to his swinging bachelor pad to do his crossword puzzles and watch the Western channel, or so he promised. 

Big sister came home and waited for another call and another crisis that I knew was just around the corner. Big sisters just know those things. And the phone rang again, and I took my jaunt back down the oh-so-familiar road, got reacquainted with my new coffee friends and sat by his side, and peacefully waited for him to heal. The Spirit was with me as I held back the tears when they transported him to a hospice care facility. Once again, I waited throughout the summer as I held his hand, called, and checked on him daily, and drove the nurses crazy. As the light in his eyes began to fade away, my spirit sank. 

During these days of the waiting, I trusted all would be made new as Jesus promised. Not only my brother but me as well. It seemed as if my heart was suspended in time. My daily life continued, but a little piece of my heart was still with him. The fun days as we grew up together, playing on the farm, our summer trips to our grandparents in Louisiana catching crawdads, and even the pesky little things that only little brothers can do to irritate sisters gave me times of joy in the memories.

And when his light left this earth and grabbed the Lord’s hand, I shouted hallelujah. He is healed and now am I. You see, I waited on the Lord, and He came. He came and put His arms around me in the form of my friends and family and held me tight and gradually that missing piece of my heart has returned, bigger and fuller with so much love.  

When I saw the new picture that is the new improved banner for Wandering the Path, I saw my name on one of the chrysalises, and I knew hanging around in a funk was no longer an option.  It was time to make my way out and take flight like the butterfly and begin serving our Savior. I learned so much as a sat in squeaky chairs in hospital rooms, met with doctors, and prayed sleepless nights in the ER. 

I had a full cart of groceries that I left in the aisle when I received the final call and raced down the highway to hold his hand as he was crossing over to be with Jesus. Many of you have walked this way and may still be trudging along. In the days ahead, I pray we can share those times as we begin to take flight together.  You see, in the waiting comes the glory and the strength to fly with our Holy One.

Points to Ponder:

1. Has your heart ever felt clogged?
2. What is the hardest thing for you to wait on?
3. What do you think of when you see a butterfly?

Pray with me

“Put on them, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. Colossians 3:12-17

In honor of Charlie and Lucy Moses -2008-2021

It was time for our nightly stroll along our famously familiar path. I could almost let the leash go and just follow Charlie. Sister Lucy once joined us on these walks.  We both enjoyed knowing we were connected, even if it was just by a slim cord. We walked in silent companionship that only a sweet puppy can provide. Charlie always enjoyed these evening walks because he had the bunnies to himself now to chase away and keep me safe. My safety was always his concern, unless it involved me getting in the way of a piece of meat that had fallen on the floor.  After all, I was the one who chose him when I picked him and his sister, Lucy, out of the litter to come home and join our family. It was on one of our last walks that our joyful silence was interrupted by a big dog, well at least we thought it was.  A loud bark interrupted our evening stroll so we made a right turn where we always went left, and tried to find our way back on our favorite path. We had no reason to be afraid of the big dog.  

We had never even met him nor had he done anything to us, but just the thought of what was behind those bullying sounds made us never want to get close to them. We had been told never to let any big dogs move into our neighborhood, or move into theirs, much less talk to one on the street. After all they were different than us. 

But yikes, as we turned the corner and plowed right into the beast that made us shake in our bones, and we were so surprised. It was a cute little furry ball sitting in a stroller with its sweet mom pushing her along. They didn’t look like us or sound like us but they were enjoying the night in harmony just like we were as they took their stroll. What a joy to meet new people on the path. It was a joyous time together, walking toward the peace of understanding.  Much like God chose us and encouraged us to have compassionate hearts and to be kind and humble. Hearts to welcome all into our lives. They are children of God just like we are. Charlie and Lucy were special puppies in our lives. They loved everyone, except maybe squirrels and bunnies. I guess I should have them over for a play date. If we put on love, all can be bound in perfect harmony. There’s a hole in our hearts that held Charlie and Lucy, but joy in our hearts we knew them. 

Ponder with Me:

1. Are they’re any “big dogs” in your life?

2. Do all of your friends look and think like you?

3. Are there any holes in your heart from confusing relationships?

Pray with Me:

Oh O Holy one, I thank you for this walk with precious Charlie to open my eyes and gather in the surprises you send my way. You held my hand when Charlie and Lucy joined you and wiped my tears. You are always here to show me compassion, grace, and forgiveness as I live my life for you.

Feeling cherished!

And remember, as my Auntie used to say, “No matter how bumpy the road, your path has already been cleared.”

For I am mindful of the sincere faith within you, which first dwelt in your grandmothers Lois (dede and Gran) and your mother Eunice (Laura), and I am sure that it is in you as well.” 2 Timothy 1:5

It all started with B3. You know, the number on a Bingo card. Like every grandmother in the world, I decided our granddaughter should learn a skill that would serve her well throughout life. I thought calling out Bingo numbers might lead to a consistent Saturday afternoon gig at the old folks’ home. I had visions of her visiting me in my golden years at the most fun retirement center ever. I could just see me proudly introducing her, if I could remember her name on that day, and playing Bingo with my red, purple, or white haired gang. She would be a great addition because by then, she would be able to call out the numbers and put the number on the chart. She would be so agile she could grab any wayward ball. 

It’s unbelievable how quickly that little ball can scoot across the table and cause a scavenger hunt to ensue. It was during this scurrying around on the floor that the shocking truth was discovered. Not the B3 ball, but Mae’s announcement of “dede you’ve got a big wrinkle right there,” as she poked her little finger in the middle of my forehead. One word floated through my brain… BOTOX.

“Oh my, I guess I better take care of that,” I said. Mae replied, “Don’t worry dede, you have a lot more.” Why that was so good to know. A lot of wrinkles, just what any 68 year-old woman wants to hear. I was indeed mindful that Mae had recognized I had wrinkles a plenty, after all they were pretty obvious with her young eyes. In fact those crinkly little lines greeted me every morning when I looked in the mirror and were there to stay. It’s tricky to phrase every response to her curious little questions and comments. If I don’t think before I speak,  I hear the story traveling as it progresses down the line to her mom and dad, and sometimes it even makes to Gran, her other source of wisdom. Oh my goodness, that conversation could have gone in so many directions. Mae’s a great Bible scholar for a six year-old, even if I do say so myself.  I could have thrown the story about the lost sheep or the lost coin. Or what about the prodigal son who was lost but then found. You know, be thankful for what God gives you. All of God’s children and wrinkles are important, but no, I was trying to remember my schedule so I could work out a time to get that Botox. 

All of my precious grandchildren can remember more stuff than I forget in a day, and that is saying a lot. Teaching, guiding, sharing is so important if we want to sow seeds about Jesus for them to remember. But you know what? So is playing Bingo and chasing a rolling B3 down the stairs. I think I’ll be mindful and have fun! Jesus even managed to do it as He strolled toward his last days with His disciples. Our faith can be shown how we live our lives, whether we’re walking down the path with Jesus, or playing Bingo. And remember that precious Bible school song,  “O be careful little mouth what you say, O be careful little mouth what you say, There’s a Father above, And He’s looking down in love, So, be careful little mouth what you say.”

Blessings in the name of the Christ who is behind us, with us, and in the days to come.

Pray with Me

Precious Father,

You are with me in all things, even when my mouth speaks in ways that are not nurturing to all. Help me to be careful what I say. For I know you are looking and guiding me from above.

Rolling down the road.

“Put on your new nature, created to be like God–truly righteous and holy.”
-Ephesians 4:24

I can just imagine the sleepy walls stretching their arms and yawning in ways they had forgotten. Slowly opening their tightly closed eyes as they examined the strange new world around them. Where was all the noise coming from? The home had been lonely for two years. No squeals from the playscape, no splashing in the pool, nothing sticky on the cabinets, or footprints on the floor. But no longer, life had returned. But my oh my, I must admit I hope the walls were snoozing during the days of remodeling and moving. I was definitely on Santa’s naughty list this year. Some moments I was sweet as my grandmas’ punch, but other times I acted like my grandpa’s bull, Amos. I was missing Christmas again this year, and not just because of Covid-19. The busy bug had entered my world and I didn’t have time for Him.

This year was busier than usual. The Christmas carols were serenading me as I sped from store to store looking for just the right color carpet or picking up extra paint. My favorite Christmas channel was on the television with its Christmas movies of love and hot chocolate, as I clicked away ordering presents on my computer, but the Holy days weren’t quite sinking in. 

The kids were coming Christmas day and it would be our first party in our new home. I was so excited as I cooked and decorated, yet dear Jesus was not in his crib in the stable. He was not close by, the stuff was, but I just kept ignoring the “Reason for the Season.” I had more Santas on display this year than nativities. That’s impossible at our house, but my baby Jesuses were in some mystery box and I just didn’t have the time to find them. It’s Jesus’ day, the Holy’s time, and I’m usually blessed to go along for the wonderful ride, but not this year. I was missing Christmas. I didn’t see any Advent services, hear Christmas choirs, or listen to inspiring sermons. I was busy, oh so very busy.

After the house became quiet again, and all the loves of our life left, the peace descended where joyful craziness had once been.  Full of expectations, as I glanced through the pictures taken I was blessed to be shown I was mistaken. 

Traditions acknowledged every moment with the Saviour, and He was in the middle of the joy, laugher, prayer and fun. He was there even though I didn’t have my morning prayers. He was there when we couldn’t go to church on Christmas Eve. He was in the midst of the TV service, we watched, it wasn’t the same, but Jesus knew He was still in the middle of my world. As I read Luke 2, the grand babies hung their verse on the tree, until Jesus birth hung before us among the sparkling lights, just like the stars that shone over the stable in Bethlehem. I could see Jesus among us. We all held our breaths when we let the “littles” hold their own candle as we sang Parker’s request, Feliz Navidad and closed with Martha’s Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. I held out for Away in the Manger while we were blowing out the candles. Once again, our precious One was showing me His unconditional love.

Our house put on a new self as we painted and spruced it up and awakened it to an exciting new world. Ash Wednesday is February 17 , and with it a chance to live an intentional life for Him. I sure don’t want to get on the Easter Bunny’s naughty list. I want to get my “virtual” ashes on my forehead, say my Lenten prayers for 40 days, and be there when Jesus rises among us. So on Easter morning, I won’t have missed a thing, and my nature will be made new. Blessings in the name of Christ who is behind us, with us, and in the days to come.

You know this story I just shared with you is my story, not yours because we all have our own.  But if you were touched or moved by something I wrote and the Lord tapped you on the shoulder I’m thankful, if not thanks for following along.

Why don’t we ponder some thoughts that came to my mind.

Points to Ponder:

1. Have you ever missed God??

2. Has God ever surprised you?

3. What is your reason for the Christmas and Lenten season?

Pray with me: I love you Lord. You hold my hand as I w all through the busiest of days. You are there when I don’t even realize it. Only you can open the paths for me precious One. I’m slowing down just to be with you.

I hope you’ll be my walking partner as I navigate my way through a life of whimsy, grace, and a lot of love for our Savior. You can read about my adventures on this blog, Wandering the Path, or if you’d rather, join me on my podcast Wandering the Path with Debi. 

And remember, as my Auntie used to say, “No matter how bumpy the journey, your path has already been cleared.”

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