Sunday, December 28, 2014


I'm a talker.  I usually have something to say about most things.

But, Thursday, I was speechless.

I had trekked over to Lennox to fetch Grandma for the day.  I had wanted to get her early enough in the day so that she didn't feel forgotten.  Getting out of Hilda's always involves at least one stop.  Letting others know she was departing is important to Grandma so we headed to the kitchen window.  There was a smattering of little old ladies and men sitting at the dinning tables visiting.   Grandma tapped her empty coffee cup on the counter to get the cooks attention and then proceeded with her goodbye.

I felt a soft pull on my sleeve.  Expecting the usual conversation about who I am and what we were doing I turned to look into the dimming eyes of a woman I had seen before.

"I feel sorry for you,"  she declared.

I must have looked confused because she looked from me to Grandma and back.

I must have looked a bit stunned.  "Well..." her voice trailed off.

I returned my attention to Grandma, shepering her out the door and into the van.

The words of that elderly lady echoing in my head.  I wrestled with the meaning behind them.  She felt sorry for me because my Grandma is not the kindest, gentlest woman.  She wants what she wants and she expects certain things.  She is not quick to extend grace or mercy.  And it comes out in harsh tones and a bad attitude to those around her. 

I thought of all the things I should have said as Grandma sat in the recliner reading the newspaper.

I should have said, "Oh, don't feel sorry for me.  She loved me when I was difficult to love.  When I got into the perfume and lipstick and bathroom spray.  She loved me when I ruined her yellow bathroom rug and when I hid during cleaning time.  She gave me a chance when everyone else didn't think I was responsible enough.  She welcomed me into her home when I needed a place to crash in high school before basketball games.  She supported me by coming to watch me cheer even though it was terribly loud.  She loved me when I moved away and rarely saw her.  So, really, don't feel sorry for me.  I'm sorry that you don't get to know the better side of Grandma."

Tuesday, December 23, 2014


As a little girl I always wanted to be a mom.  It was the number one thing I played.  I think I just really wanted to be in charge, like my mom was. 

As a mom I really don't want to be in charge.  It is hard.  Everyday I make all these decisions that seem little but the voice in my heart keeps telling me they will make a difference. 

So I am full of fear.  All those little decisions.  Go to timeout.  No Kindle for you.  Tell your brother you are sorry.  Change into clothes that match.  Stop shouting (said while shouting).

What if those decisions are wrong?  Really wrong. 

And then there are the big mistakes.  Offhandedly giving permission for my boy with allergies to eat a cookie.  Not thinking twice when he said he felt funny.  Having to apologize for not paying attention and protecting him.

Would God really refine me at the cost of my child?  Job 32:10 says so.  "For He knows the way that I take, and when He has refined me I shall come forth as gold."  He will refine me.  He will also sustain me and never leave me and give me wisdom I lack.

Oh, thank you, Lord.

Dear Daniel: The dreaded year

Oh, my!  Daniel, the dreaded year has arrived.  Three has historically been one of the most difficult with Anderson boys.  The terrible twos were never an issue, it's three.  That in between year when you can do it yourself but it is often faster for Mom to do it.  The year when you want things to go your way and have a hard time dealing when they do not. 

You already throw around  "I don't like you, Mom."  It's okay.  I understand.  And as I tell you, it's okay if you don't like me, I still love you.  Prayerfully, someday, my methods will make sense to you. 

I get so much delight from you.  I don't know anyone who can play with cars, trucks, planes, and blocks like you do.  You have this fantastic imagination.  And the way you can stack objects not normally stacked is amazing.  Your singing also makes me smile.  You can belt out a tune like nobody's business.

People often comment on how short you are.  You are short but you wear the bejeeberz out your pants.  Something I treasure!  In fact, I just took a pair from your drawer and put them into Micah's.  (He can't quite wear them yet, don't worry).  What you lack in statue you make up for in personality.  One day while on our weekly grocery shopping adventure you were trying to "help" Mom get John on the right track.  You were letting him have it and this lovely little elderly man just about wet his pants laughing at you facial expressions and vocabulary. 

You are learning more and more about Jesus and that is the most important thing.  You love to sit for a story and while your prayers are often hard to hear I know God hears them.  (I do know that Aunt Sara is well covered in prayer by you.)

I pray that next year when I get to write to you again we have come out stronger, more obedient, and closer to Jesus.

You are a sunshine, Daniel Jeffery.  I love you nose to toes!

Saturday, December 13, 2014

Dear Micah: My Sunshine

Dearest Micah,

Sorry your letter is so late in getting out.  You turned one over a week ago and I am just getting to this all important letter.  Lord willing, you will someday get to read these little notes I jot down here.

Every day before I lay you down for nap I sing you a song.   
You are my sunshine, my Micah sunshine (I had to change the words since there are four of you sunshines running around).  You make me happy when skies are grey.  You'll never know, dear, how much I love you.  Please don't take my Micah Sunshine away.

Then you lay right down with the dinosaur blanket your Aunt Sara bought you and go to sleep.

It wasn't always like that for us.  In the beginning you thought naps were for cats.  I'm glad you've come around. You grew so much this year.  I've seen it happen three other times but I think I was paying extra attention this time since I knew you were the last baby.  You learned how to roll, crawl that adorable army crawl, and now walk a few steps.  {You made John's day when you walked three steps to him today!}  You've learned to sleep through the night, take a great nap, and lay {mostly} still for a diaper change.  You have learned that Elijah is the one to go to when you need to be held.  Daniel plays the most.  And John is the one to find when you need to roll around and have crawling contests. 

You are a ray of sunshine, Micah.  Your smile and enthusiastic greetings warm my heart.  Your squeals of delight when Daddy comes home from work are so delightful.  Your tenacious attitude and love for banging things together makes me smile.

You even pose for pictures.

I keep praying you love Jesus as much as your brothers do.  The way you follow them around, I suspect some of that love will rub right off and grow into a relationship all its own.  

I love you nose to toes, Micah Moomer!