To the backdrop of I Love Lucy, my daughter, Hannah, labored early on Saturday morning to bring Leila into the world.  Today is Thursday, which means Leila's first week is more than halfway passed.  Wow.

While Hannah and Leila were being discharged at the hospital, the nurse, with her northern accent and way of being, touched a place inside of me that doesn't get rocked very often.  The place of vulnerable patient who has grieved her babies.  The ache of exhausted daughter, caring for parents who will never be better again.  The newborn reality of being grandma,  and finally, the realization that  I'm now the generation who could soon need a caregiver myself.  Yes, the young and the old are connected, and I am going down the line in succession of all those who came before and all of those who will come after.

When a young girl gives birth, she experiences the beginning of a different perspective of what her mother has done for her.  The picture begins to be altered as she tries to walk post-partum, learns how to nurse, wakes up in the night, and quietly soaks in the joys of mommy hood and the promise of many years of hard work ahead.

It happens again when one become a grandma.  I'm grateful that my mother came across the country to care for me while experiencing high risk pregnancies and again after giving birth.  Her presence comforted me and her way of serving benefitted me for several weeks. I  ache for her as I remember.

It is obvious to me now why older women pray more: you just come to the place of accepting your lack of control, while remembering the goodness and faithfulness of God throughout your own life, applying that reality to those you love. They must live their lives and learn their own hard lessons.  But in the closet of your heart, you are asking for grace, hoping for revelation, and believing Him to do what only He can do.

If there is anyone humble, quietly watching as people do it their own way, not consulting Him or being saved from a boatload of consequences, it is God the Father, Creator of us all.

Just waiting to be asked for wisdom.

Ready to support.

Willing to comfort.

Able to help.

I am asking You today, Lord, for all of these things.  Thank you for hearing.  I look forward to seeing how You answer.

His salvation extends to the children's children of those who are faithful to his covenant, of those who obey his commandments.  Psalm 103

A Special Day

Living  in a halfway house in the summer of '77,  I was so depressed that I didn't want to fall asleep at night because it meant that my next waking moment would be the reality of a another day looming before me. A day that I would have to sludge through, with no hope for the future. A day filled with ever present reminders of wrong choices and their seemingly unending consequences.  To stall going to sleep and to keep that reality at bay, I began reading 2 chapters of Luke each night.

One afternoon, during the mandatory monthly meeting with my halfway house counselor,  I was confronted about not fully embracing the "program." (At this point, I had already been in a psych ward, through chemical dependency treatment, and now was there at Wayside House.)

The emotional help that man had to offer was quickly proving to be just that: The Help of Man.

I began sharing with this counselor that I was reading the Bible each night and I had just gotten to the part where Jesus was being crucified.  What had been words on a page, were suddenly describing an act of love that had power to change my life.   Romans 10:9 says that if you confess with your mouth and believe in your heart that Jesus is Lord, you will be saved.  This happened to me that day. As I attempted to tell her that Jesus died on the cross, my heart broke.  I could hardly get them out! But instead of self piteous tears, I was broken because of what Jesus had done for me.

As soon as I left the counselor's office, I went upstairs to my bedroom, got on the floor, and gave my life to the Lord. Because I didn't know exactly how to pray, I played a song that seemed to be more of a prayer.  (I had purchased an album from a gal going door to door in my parents' neighborhood a few years before.  The only reason I had wanted it was because both the singer and the seller were black, something I had SO wanted to be!)  I had learned every word of this song - truly a seed planted - and now I was ready to sing it as a prayer, and with all of my heart, I did.   He washed away the stains I could not seem to even lighten. Within a week or so, I was in Midwest Challenge, a Christian program patterned after Teen Challenge. A few months after completing it, I came to Agape Force, a ministry in Texas that existed for the purpose of bringing revival to America. I am so grateful for the place of safety He gave me there. I literally swam in the presence of God for six months or more!  ♥ ♥

There was no one present to help me repeat certain words or read The Four Spiritual Laws.  I had been "breathing" prayers while in treatment, things like: I just give my life to You and I wonder if God could forgive ME? I've often thought that like the prodigal's father, who rejoiced while his son was still far off,  God saw me heading in the right direction and also rejoiced, though I was not yet home.   On the floor of a halfway house, singing a song, He showed me the way.

In the hospital, during treatment, at the halfway house, at Midwest Challenge, and in Agape Force, I found a banquet prepared for me.

Thirty four years later, my feet are still under that Table.