Seasons of Discernment and Praise

Lenten Meditation, Day Seventeen: Honoring My Father and My Mother

Memories of Father, memories of Mother,
of times and places,
of laughter and tears on growing older faces,
as life was lived in those growing up years.

Where are you going, Mama?"
"Nowhere, I'm just putting my lipstick on."
Her hair grown long or in an upsweep swept,
on which a wide-brimmed picture hat was
beautifully set.

"You're the most like Mother," my older brother said to me.
"Your smiles are the same," my friend said.
When viewing a video of a surprise birthday party,
I noticed we held ourselves, approached others
in just the same way.

A mirror mirrored my recognition,
when looking in to check my hair, it struck me,
so strangely, so forcibly, to see my mother
looking back at me!
Sometimes it is not her face I see,
but I am in her skin staring out at me!

"Daddy, may I go to the barn with you tonight?"
When he said, "No, not tonight." I knew something
important was going to happen. A cow would be giving birth.
A baby would be born, and I was not invited.
His demeanor was strictly private and did not welcome questions.
Such a warm and jolly man, but not at these times.
Leave it alone.
I will go over tomorrow by myself and see the new life and stare
as long as I like. Cows have deep pools for eyes.

A gentleman, respectful, serious, funny and fun!
A great storyteller, an actor, bar none.
A baker and a taker of warm, bread loaves.
One might wonder if others in the neighborhood had stoves!
He loved giving. They warmly received them.
There was always plenty to share.
Grateful thanksgiving rang often from his heart
for God's great love and care,

A daring darling, Sue by name,
wanted to play a silly game with Dad's hair,
sparse and straight as he dozed in his chair.
(She later became a beautician.)
But this night, as he patiently, trustingly sat
and slept under her creative hands, she braided
his hair, tiny braids, many braids, and then,
with a gleaming eye, brought out the syrup.

"Oh! No! Sue! Don't do it!" Sandra and I cried.
But do it she did, and proudly too.
Too scared to laugh, we all waited, wondering what Dad would do.
Suddenly, he shook himself awake, and, as was his habit,
drew both hands through his hair to say, as usual,
"That's enough, girls. I'm going to bed now."

Of course, you can guess, when his hands met the mess,
the stickiness, the abrupt inability to follow through,
we knew he was MAD. Knew what he would like to do.
We scattered away fast, especially, Sue.
Daddy's precious stones were still precious in his sight.



Blessings in Jesus

Blessings in Jesus, oh worship our King!
Gifts in abundance, our grateful hearts sing
of His love, of His mercy, of His amazing grace.
Blessings in Jesus, no one can take His place.
He fills our hearts with hope. He lifts us from despair.
He challenges us, His children, to learn to love and share.

Blessings in Jesus, He is our all-sufficient One.
Praise God. Praise God! For giving us His Son.
We are but clay He molds His way. We know His way is best.
Blessings in Jesus, in Him is our rest.
When fears beset our souls, when Satan throws his darts,
our God, our righteous Father, renews our strength, imparts His heart.

Blessings in Jesus, He is our friend, indeed. No stranger here, but one in One! Sisters, brothers, sons and daughters, even fathers, even mothers. To walk alone is not His plan. Blessings in Jesus, touch His open, nail-scarred hands. Friendship in Jesus, in neediness confessing, our hearts enjoined, our souls enriched, our lives are witness to His blessings.

Blessings in Jesus, tell others of His glory. But first to tell of His saving grace in your own precious story.
He lived to die. He died to live, that your life can be showered with
blessings in Jesus. By His Spirit you are empowered!
Holy Spirit, Holy Friend, Holy God, Almighty!
Abba, Father, Son of Man.
All wisdom, power, and glory.