A Big Change in my daily routine!

O.K. I will start by confessing that I am very shallow when it comes to drinking coffee. I love my coffee and I drink about a 8 cup pot every morning. So it has been four whole days since I have had a cup of coffee. I am sure that the only spiritual application for attempting to give up coffee is that it is very important in the life of a believer to deny SELF. Thus my mission has begun.

One of my favorite hobbies is collecting beautiful antique tea cups and I use teacups in my home decor. They are each very unique and lovely much like each of us, created in the image of God yet all very different. In the pursuit of denying myself and obstaining from coffee, I decided yesterday that I would enjoy a cup of hot tea throughout the day to not only have a substitute available when the urge to grab a cup comes, but also to enjoy the theraputic benefits of delicious tea.

I just came in from doing the lawn and I have had a couple of no energy days thinking, I sure could use some caffine. When checking my email just a few minutes ago, followed a link to a blog that I have never visited before from my friend Dianne's blog and this is the little encouragement that God sent to me this afternoon:


God is so good, He even cares that I am going through caffine withdrawal and gently reminds me that not only is HE alone, enough for my life, but He will come and sip tea with me. He is the All Sufficient One, the One to whom we should fully rely on day by day and minute by minute. My prayer for you is that you would call upon the name of the Lord, the All Sufficient One and have your CUP filled to the full measure of His mercy and grace!

Check it Out!

Last week at Beth Moore's pre-conference event at Phillips arena in Atlanta, we were privileged to here a young man by the name of Travis Cottrell who is not only a very gifted singer, but also song writer and musician. Treat yourself to being blessed by his music. His website is permanently linked from this blog, but it is also here for your convience: http://www.traviscottrell.com/main.html

May you enjoy the indwelling presence of our living, loving, Lord Jesus Christ as you listen to his music. God Bless!

The Sandpiper Story

by Robert Peterson

She was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I live. I drive to this beach, a distance of three or four miles, whenever the world begins to close in on me. She was building a sand castle or something and looked up, her eyes as blue as the sea.

"Hello," she said.
I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small child.
"I'm building," she said.
"I see that. What is it?" I asked, not really caring.
"Oh, I don't know, I just like the feel of sand."
That sounds good, I thought, and slipped off my shoes.
A sandpiper glided by.
"That's a joy," the child said.
"It's a what?"
"It's a joy. My mama says sandpipers come to bring us joy."
The bird went gliding down the beach. Good-bye joy, I muttered to myself, hello pain, and turned to walk on. I was depressed, my life seemed completely out of balance.
"What's your name?" She wouldn't give up.
"Robert," I answered. "I'm Robert Peterson."
"Mine's Wendy... I'm six."
"Hi, Wendy."
She giggled. "You're funny," she said.
In spite of my gloom, I laughed too and walked on. Her musical giggle followed me.
"Come again, Mr. P," she called. "We'll have another happy day."

The next few days consisted of a group of unruly Boy Scouts, PTA meetings, and an ailing mother. The sun was shining one morning as I took my hands out of the dishwater. I need a sandpiper, I said to myself, gathering up my coat. The ever-changing balm of the seashore awaited me. The breeze was chilly but I strode along, trying to recapture the serenity I needed.
"Hello, Mr. P," she said. "Do you want to play?"
"What did you have in mind?" I asked, with a twinge of annoyance.
"I don't know. You say."
"How about charades?" I asked sarcastically.
The tinkling laughter burst forth again. "I don't know what that is."
"Then let's just walk."
Looking at her, I noticed the delicate fairness of her face.
"Where do you live?" I asked.
"Over there." She pointed toward a row of summer cottages.
Strange, I thought, in winter.
"Where do you go to school?"
"I don't go to school. Mommy says we're on vacation." She chattered little girl talk as we strolled up the beach, but my mind was on other things. When I left for home, Wendy said it had been a happy day. Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at her and agreed.

Three weeks later, I rushed to my beach in a state of near panic. I was in no mood to even greet Wendy. I thought I saw her mother on the porch and felt like demanding she keep her child at home. "Look, if you don't mind," I said crossly when Wendy caught up with me, "I'd rather be alone today."
She seemed unusually pale and out of breath.
"Why?" she asked.
I turned to her and shouted, "Because my mother died!" and thought, My God, why was I saying this to a little child?
"Oh," she said quietly, "then this is a bad day."
Yes," I said, "and yesterday and the day before and -- oh, go away!"
"Did it hurt?" she inquired.
"Did what hurt?" I was exasperated with her, with myself.
"When she died?"

"Of course it hurt!" I snapped, misunderstanding, wrapped up in myself. I strode off.

A month or so after that, when I next went to the beach, she wasn't there. Feeling guilty, ashamed, and admitting to myself I missed her, I went up to the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door. A drawn looking young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door. “Hello," I said, "I'm Robert Peterson. I missed your little girl today and wondered where she was."

"Oh yes, Mr. Peterson, please come in. Wendy spoke of you so much. I'm afraid I allowed her to bother you. If she was a nuisance, please, accept my apologies."

"Not at all -- she's a delightful child," I said, suddenly realizing that I meant what I had just said.

"Wendy died last week, Mr. Peterson. She had leukemia. Maybe she didn't tell you."

Struck dumb, I groped for a chair. I had to catch my breath.

"She loved this beach, so when she asked to come, we couldn't say no. She seemed so much better here and had a lot of what she called happy days. But the last few weeks, she declined rapidly..." Her voice faltered, "She left something for you, if only I can find it. Could you wait a moment while I look?"

I nodded stupidly, my mind racing for something to say to this lovely young woman. She handed me a smeared envelope with "MR. P" printed in bold childish letters. Inside was a drawing in bright crayon hues -- a yellow beach, a blue sea, and a brown bird. Underneath was carefully printed:

A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY

Tears welled up in my eyes, and a heart that had almost forgotten to love opened wide. I took Wendy's mother in my arms. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," I uttered over and over, and we wept together. The precious little picture is framed now and hangs in my study. Six words -- one for each year of her life -- that speak to me of harmony, courage, and undemanding love. A gift from a child with sea blue eyes and hair the color of sand -- who taught me the gift of love.
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NOTE: This is a true story sent out by Robert Peterson. It happened over 20 years ago and the incident changed his life forever. It serves as a reminder to all of us that we need to take time to enjoy living and life and each other. The price of hating other human beings is loving oneself less.

Life is so complicated, the hustle and bustle of everyday traumas can make us lose focus about what is truly important or what is only a momentary setback or crisis. This week, be sure to give your loved ones an extra hug, and by all means, take a moment...even if it is only ten seconds, to stop and smell the roses.

This comes from someones heart, and is read by many and now I share it with you...
May God Bless everyone who receives this! There are NO coincidences!
Everything that happens to us happens for a reason. Never brush aside anyone as insignificant. Who knows what they can teach us? I wish for you, a sandpiper.

This butterfly prays that each of you will experience God’s joy, unspeakable and full of glory!

A Busy Week

I can hardly believe that it has been a week since I posted, but a busy one it has been. It has also been a week of answered prayers, growing in grace, dealing with fears and disappointments.

You know, God is so good. He is the Sustainer, the Comfortor, the Peace-Maker, the Faithful One, my Hope, my Rock and my Redeemer. Last Friday, I had the great priviledge of hearing Beth Moore at Women of Faith in Atlanta. It was truly a blessing for several reasons.

So clearly, Beth presented the Truth from II Cor. 1:4-10 about comfort and the God of all Comfort who is our Source for all things. There was so much rich truth from which I can grow and be moved to a new place of service for the Lord.

The Bible study time was the first blessing and the second came from being with the wonderful ladies from my church with whom I shared this experience. At the conclusion of the conference, Beth asked each of us to make a prayer of comittment to God. I would like to share that prayer with you:

My Dear Sister,
The Maker of Heaven and Earth
Has His hand on you.
Don't trade what He has for you
For the comforts of this world.
Let the love of Christ compel you
And infuse you with courage.
God, even God, who created the heavens
Is the One who comforts you.
Whatever you do,
Don't refuse it!
His grace will guard you from bitterness
And Christ will turn your pain
Into Holy Passion.
Pour your life lavishly into others.
Humble yourself and share your hardships
That others may also share your comfort.
Live till you die!
Then live like there's no tomorrow!
For the King enthroned in Heaven
Is worthy of your all.
Now, go, Girl!
For the Father of Mercies
And the God of all comfort
Goes with you.
Bless be God
And bless be you!

It is my prayer that you would search the scriptures to find the God of all Comforts who comforts us in our time of need so that we might in turn share our story with others and provide comfort in return. Blessed are the merciful for they shall find mercy!

My Baby is a Teacher!

My hubby and I finished dinner tonight and he disappeared to the pool. After cleaning the kitchen, I walked outside to check on him and he was on the phone with our oldest daughter. Tomorrow is a very big day in her life. She is a new school teacher and tomorrow is the first day of her "official" teaching career.

Of course, as a mother, I have been praying for her off and on all week, and I had spent three days in her classroom earlier in the summer preparing for the big day tomorrow. She claims to only be tired, not a bit nervous. I hope that she is so prepared, that she walks into that classroom with grace and confidence. What hit me hard, in the emotional department tonight, was when I overheard my husband say, "I remember your very first day of school and now you are a teacher." As sweet as that sounded from her very proud daddy, the memories of her first official day of school, flooded my mind like a movie in rewind.

Like all parents we wanted our children to have the very best education that we could possibly afford. So without delay, I registered my sweet little 3 year old little girl in the very best church pre-kindergarden that our home town had to offer. I had researched the curriculum, pre-paid the registration fee and shopped for the cutest outfits a new kindergardner could wear to school.

What I had not prepared for was the terrible anxiety that I would have about two weeks before school started and my fears of sending her off into the world. Literally, I dreamed that she would not have money for lunch or that the building would catch on fire and she would be left alone in the classroom. Call me desperate or a control freak, I quickly began praying about what God would have us do about her education.

At the time, 20 years ago, home schooling was a bit of an odd concept and not widely accepted in society, the world of education, nor in the church. Being the efficient Type A personality that I am, I began to diligently research my options. It only took a few days to really feel that God was leading us in that direction. Little did I know what God was urging me to do and how enormous the responsibility of home schooling would be.

I will save the rest of the home schooling story until another time. With supplies, clothes, and all of the necessary tools that a teacher and a 4 year old need, we began our first year of home schooling. To make it official, which is probably the only thing her daddy remembers, we dressed her up in the cutest little navy jumper with a navy and white stripped shirt, socks, leather oxfords, and a huge navy hair bow. With curls in tack and her American flag in hand, she walked out into the garage and then turned around and marched into the kitchen to proclaim "officially" the first day of school.

Never was a mama so proud. Pride soon turned to perseverance when the newness of the routine wore off. We persevered for the next 8 years and she entered "real school" at the beginning of the eighth grade. She continued pursuing academic excellence both in high school and college. Graduating from a college prep high school Summa Cum Laude and graduating from the University of Georgia's College of Education, Magna Cum Laude, the third ranking education program in the country.
She is now midway through her Masters in Education at UGA.

My sweet little girl will start her teaching career tomorrow and we are still so very proud of her. I believe that God has not only called her into education, but also gifted her with an amazing love and concern for children. We need more dedicated young people who want to make a difference in this world. We can hardly wait to see the great and mighty way that God will use her.

If you read this blog, please say a prayer for her as she begins an exciting and challenging new chapter in her life. Never is a parent so grateful to God for His mercy, where a child is concerned, as is a home school mom who through tears, joy and perseverance knows that her job as the primary educator is finished. Praise God we finished this phase of the race and the job was well done!

Productive Days - Bittersweet Week

In the past week, this old butterfly has been as busy as a bee!

Returned home from a trip to the Bahama's; sent two daughters off to their respective colleges for the year; entertained family for several days; cleaned, organized and re-decorated my office (which is usually the only disaster area in my home other than the garage); cleaned, organized and decluttered my garage; completed my to-do list for the summer; and began tackling my projects for the fall. Sometimes, I become exhausted just thinking about what I have done.

Just minutes ago, I stopped to catch my breath before sitting down to record my thoughts and it hit me as to why I have chosen to occupy my life with extreme business this week......no it is not because I am turning 47 on Saturday. What was a happy week in my life for the first 45 years has now become a bittersweet week of rememberance in my life since 2004.

My precious mama began the very last chapter of her life on August 12, 2004. Suffering from Inflamatory Breast Cancer for over two years, on my birthday, August 11, she was told by her doctor that her lungs would have to be drained because her left lung was about 2/3 full of fluid. So the next after noon, my daddy and her primary care giver, transported mama from north Atlanta to Tifton where she had a chest tube inserted into her left lung that would remain there until her death on October 22, 2004.

There have been many days and nights that I have wondered exactly why my mama suffered so during the last 67 days of her life, and at the same time I was so incredibly grateful for each and every minute that we had to spend with her during those last days. The memories initally were of the hospital bed, fluid canasters, medicine bottles, IV's,a second chest tube and all of the "stuff" that goes along with death by cancer. As painful as that time was in my life, I can now look back with a heart of gratitude to God for every precious moment and memory that we shared during those days; not only for the time with mama before God called her home, but also for the time spent with my daddy and many other family members who cared so much and demonstrated God's love to us through each selfless act of kindness.

I have allowed the bittersweet memories of this week to be overtaken with activity and accomplishment. Thankfully, God has given me these few moments to reflect on the significance of this week in my memories. Tears fill my eyes and my heart is overcome with love and gratitude to God for the great blessing He gave me in my mama. She knew without a shadow of doubt that her daughters did "rise up and call her blessed among all women" for she was truly a virtuous woman that deserved all of the earthly honor that could be given to such an excellent woman of God who loved Him,feared Him and excelled above most others. Thank you God for my mama, a truly wonderful lady who is missed everyday of my life.

This little butterfly has wilted wings because I miss my mama so very much. My prayer tonight is that in His mercy, God would grant me renewed strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow as I continue to serve Him.

If you have your mama, I would encourage you to stop right now and call her or write her a note and tell her how very much you love her! Be transformed today with gratitude to God for your mother!