I just wanted kids

I had a wonderful conversation with one of my aunts recently.  We talked about family, friends, current events; just things.  You get some much history when you stop and talk with your elders.  You get to learn about their lives, their likes, dislikes, and what made them who they are. During our 45 minute conversation, she shared that all she wanted was to be married and have kids.  “I just wanted kids, she said. I never wanted to work outside the home. It wasn’t for me. I wanted to support my husband and raise our children by staying home.”

As she continued, it was so clear. She wanted to raise bright, intelligent children, who would one day contribute to society and be a blessing.  There was so much strength in her voice. A strength I had never noticed before.  She would never write a sonnet, or perform in front of people, or create a masterpiece; her true mission was that of being a wife and mother.

Thanking God for this priceless moment, where I learned so much about my dear aunt, I also had a revelation; “aha” moment. I thought, Father God made a similar decision, when he decided to create us.  He just wanted to have kids; bright, intelligent, gifted, anointed images of himself all around the world. Children who would contribute, and be a blessing.

People spend years trying to find themselves, or their purpose. For some it only takes a moment, and their course is set.  No matter what lies ahead, they just know this is what they were meant to do.  God knew before eternity  was formed, that he would create us, and he did it knowing that his wayward children would fail, and yet here we are.  He just wanted to have kids.

You never know when, or where these moments of revelation will.  When they do, take a moment to soak them in.  They put life into perspective, these precious moments, or at least give us a chance to say “thank you.”

Teach Us

Oh! Teach us to live well! Teach us to live wisely and well! Come back, God—how long do we have to wait?— and treat your servants with kindness for a change. Surprise us with love at daybreak; then we’ll skip and dance all the day long. Make up for the bad times with some good times; we’ve seen enough evil to last a lifetime. Let your servants see what you’re best at— the ways you rule and bless your children. And let the loveliness of our Lord, our God, rest on us, confirming the work that we do. Oh, yes. Affirm the work that we do!

Psalm 90:12 MSG

Business Cards

Moving is a strenuous and challenging process.  Clothes, dishes, toys, books, pictures, and other things we’ve culminated over the years must be shifted through, then either packed, donated, sold or discarded.  The criteria used to determine what stays or goes sometimes comes down to the memories associated with it, and not its size.

When I came across an old stack of business cards tucked away lovingly in a tin box, I soon realized each carried an intrinsic value.  As I flipped through each one, the memories of days gone by came rushing forward. Many of these people, whose lives we touched, and touched ours were more than just business associates, or colleagues.  They had move into that sacred community where unconditional love and support resides.  Every card told a story. From the times of our once flourishing business that opened doors to travel, new opportunities, and an introduction into ministry to those that brought back moments of sorrow, joy and love.  One card had a long handwritten note of condolence when we lost our son, another a note of thanks, one card was from a friend, now dearly departed, and others were simply cards attached to the hopes and dreams of their owners.  Who would have thought that such a little thing could hold such enormous impact.  A mustard seed is a little thing and yet when it grows it becomes a mighty tree providing support for lots of birds.

These business cards, stored away in a little tin box reminded me of God’s love.   His love comes every day in the form of a divine appointment, of meeting a lifelong friend, of sharing a testimony, or an encouraging word, or beginning a business relationship.  Gentle memories brought to the surface painting a picture of those blessed encounters triggered by a little thing like a business card.