Good Works

PICTURES:
Emeline 'eating' a cookie. She simply licks off all the frosting.
Ethne used large scrapbook paper and cut it into strips and taped it up to decorate in preparation for her parents Easter visit. I was all her own idea and she accomplished it without my help.

I’ve been a Christ follower for nearly 40 years. Early on, I chose a life verse. Here it is: Ephesians 2:10 (New American Standard Bible) “For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we would walk in them.”
I like it that I am His workmanship, makes me think of the Lord as an artist interacting with a beloved work (one that is in progress). The original word means ‘poem,’ so maybe I am, each of us, is a masterpiece of the Lord expressing Himself (creatively and precisely) through our lives.
I also really like that the Lord has prepared (beforehand) specific works for me. Not your works, my own. And so I don’t need to come up with my purpose in life or even for today, He’s already done the ground work, I just need to listen to Him and obey. I often thought of this regarding writing and how, when and what I’m ‘supposed’ to write.
Today, I saw something new. It’s been there all along, but I never really noticed it. It’s the part of the verse that says, “so that we would walk in them.” (Emphasis added).
Like a jolt I saw that the good works prepared just for me by God Himself are to be walked in. So maybe these are not the articles I publish, or novels I strive to write, or anything at all that has to do with the public or being ‘out there.’ Because out there doesn’t really reflect the way I spend most of my time.
Maybe these good works, loving prepared for me to walk in by my Creator, are the ordinary tasks of life. Like—walking around the neighborhood or cooking a meal for my husband, or being patient and merciful to my grandchildren. Noticing the store clerk or being kind when there is traffic. Speaking in gentle tones and encouraging those I love.
Walking is so ordinary. It’s taking one step after another every single day until we reach our final destination. (See my blog “The Daily Walk” for more thoughts on this topic).
This has changed the way I think about this verse. These good works are more likely to be the way I live my life, day in and day out, then what I did or didn’t do out in the public arena. Wow.
“Lord, help me to walk faithfully in the good works you’ve prepared for me. Right now, help me to be the best Grammy ever to these two precious girls living in our home. Amen."

"It's okay, she's old"

Emeline puts a placemat down instead of the rugs.

Ethne gathers all the pillows and blankets to make a cozy place on the couch.

What’s it like being parents of preschoolers when your 50 years old? Here are two examples.
1. Craig comes home. He plops down. The overstuffed chair has more energy than he has. And, after a day of playing young mom, I’m breathing, but barely responsive.
Emeline scampers up next to me on the sofa and begins to sing, “Happy Day, To you,” over and over.
In between stanzas she laughs joyfully.
We look at her and our mouths inch upward.
“Isn’t she darling?”
Craig nods.
“This would make a great movie.”
He nods again.
“Or even a picture.”
We both glance across the room to the camera but don’t budge. It might as well be locked in a safe and buried under 50 feet of snow, on top of Mt. Everest. I can’t prove it, but boy was she cute, honest.

2. Around eight o’clock that same night, as we were headed off to bed, Craig asks, “What did you do to your hair?”
“Nothing.” And I mean nothing.
He considers this in silence born of experience of being married over 30 years.
I explain, “I did wash it this morning and put stuff in it, but then that’s all, because I got busy.” That day I had managed to take care of the girls, drive to the airport, drop donations off at GoodWill and go to the grocery store but not brush my hair.
I figure that the best part of being old with preschoolers is that my hair is gray and so, when I forget to brush it, people simply click their tongues and whisper, “It’s okay, she’s old.”

Singing (away) the blues

Our two young granddaughters are living with us while their mommy takes care of their daddy while he endures chemo treatments. They are used to us and our house but still they miss their parents.
Today, four-year-old, Ethne, had a mini meltdown over the way I styled or failed to style her hair. In the end, she sat in my lap, and cried while I rocked her. “I want to go home. I want Mommy. I want to go home.”
Poor darling. “I know. I know. I know,” I said. Then I explained, “Daddy is so sick that it would be very bad for him if we were there because we all are coughing and our sickness could make him worse.”
Meanwhile, Emeline was saying, “Radio” and found a CD to put in the CD player. She pushed the button and a song filled the air. “The B-I-B-L-E, yes that’s the book for me.” And we all joined in. By the second song, “He’s got the whole world in His hands,” Ethne was doing the hand motions.
Suddenly she got up and said, “Let’s go to the store now.” She crossed to the CD player, pushed ‘stop’ and took out the CD. “Let’s play this in the car.” So we sang songs all the way to Walmart. And I knew that praise and truth has a way of putting our feelings into perspective. I also determined to play more praise music around our house and in the car during this difficult time.

Five under Five

Five under five. That’s our household this week. Five grandchildren under the age of four. It’s fun. It’s busy. It’s exhausting.
This was going to be a week when our daughters and their children shared time here at our home. But then Robert was hospitalized so, of course, Aimee stayed with him while their two daughters came here to play with their cousins.
This morning, precious little 18-month-old Emeline was playing around my bathtub, which is a whirlpool type, surrounded by a wide area of tile with a step up to it. She tumbled in, hit her forehead and landed hard on her back. Poor little darling—plus she's cutting about 5 teeth. I hate it when anyone I love is hurting.
I think the Lord must feel like that. Why? Well, the Bible says we’re made in His image. So I believe that whatever we feel or think (that is good, true or beautiful) originates with Him. We don’t offer anything truly original. All things we come up with that are good are, in some mysterious way, a reflection of Him since we’re created in His likeness to reflect His image.
He never intended sin, suffering and pain. In fact, He is the one who rescues us from our sorrows and comforts us in our need and upholds us in our weakness. I thought of that when I lifted up little Emeline. As I held and comforted her and ached over her tears, I sensed that the Lord was also responding to Emeline’s small hurt and to the greater suffering of her parents. He is right there, close at hand, with open heart and listening ears, pouring out His compassion and mercy. I’m thankful He is such a great and personal God.

Family Matters

It's been a hard week for our family. Robert (Aimee's husband) was admitted to the hospital on Monday. He had surgery for Testicular cancer, then found it had spread to his liver and lungs. I flew to help care for the girls so Aimee could care for Robert. The Lord is upholding us and we are believing for a full recovery yet preparing to face the challenges of the battle.

The pictures show the girls visiting daddy in the hospital and him making a funny face. Emeline holding her daddy's foot and the girls painting. I flew home with the girls on Saturday. Please be praying for this situation.

Sara and her three kids flew in last night so we have five ages four and under to fill our home with noise and our hearts with joy.

I guess I've held a lot. When we got to church and began to sing and people started to hug me and say they we're praying, I broke down. It felt really good to grieve and as a wise person has said, "if you can't cry in church, then where?" When we got home I had a nice nap and afterward felt so much better.

Love to all, Sue

When I get back to El Paso late tomorrow night it will be 15 days since I've been able to sleep in my own bed. I'm looking forward to being home.
I left on Valentine's Day and arrived at The Cliff House at Pikes Peak, where I was greeted by 2 dozen roses from my sweet husband. I spent several days with 9 other writers, working hard on our novels. It was a very challenging and rewarding time.
Then, on to the 'Writing for the Soul Conference' at the Broadmoor Hotel in Colorado Springs. This was also a very intense time of learning about the craft of writing. Those attending were given free books, including the one pictured above (which Craig and I are both enjoying). While at the Cliff House, Jerry Jenkins gave us a lot of personal attention and has challenged each of us to excellence in our writing.
From there, I flew to Las Vegas to meet Craig for a medical conference. Our daughter, Sara, is here with her husband, Mike, and their youngest, Karissa (pictured). We've been eating really well and having a good time together.
Now, on to family news in need of prayer. Robert (our son-in-law) Aimee's husband, just had a cancerous testicular tumor removed this week. We are waiting for him to have a CAT scan to see what is required for treatment. Please be in prayer for him and for their whole family. Thanks so much.
Love to all. Sue

The daily walk

My Friends, Eric and Kellie have bought their first house. Today, my friend, Debbie and I joined Kellie and prayed in every room. Here are a few pictures. (It's a wonderful place with very nice tile work).


The Daily Walk
Recently, while staying at a friend’s place in the mountains, I decided to go for walk. I followed a road that wound downward into a lovely valley. Deer eyed me while birds filled the air with song and a vista of pines greeted me as I strolled along. At the bottom of the hill, the street turned left and so that’s the way I went, spending time looking at sights and just enjoying myself. It may have been close to an hour later when I thought I should go back. So, I turned and looked at where I’d come from.
When I scanned the road I’d come down so easily, it looked extremely steep, nearly vertical. I gulped, wondering why I hadn’t chosen to go uphill at first so I could be facing a leisurely downhill stroll now that I was tired. But as much as I wished, I didn’t see a chairlift, or a friendly stranger offering me a ride back up the hill.
I made two decisions. First, I’d better get started since I had to do it anyway and second I wouldn’t try to set a speed record or even attempt to make this journey one of cardio exercise. I just wanted to make it to the top—still breathing.
I began to climb, slowly, one foot in front of the other, over and over and over again. The morning was still lovely and I noticed the clean crispness of the air when I unzipped my coat, since like it or not, my heart was pumping hard and my body heating up. But all in all, I found the hike pretty easy. To be fair, I wasn’t really hiking, I was just walking, slow. Remember, I determined not to rush things? Well, I didn’t. But I did make it, still breathing and sort of proud that I’d made it without too much strain.
Now I’m thinking about how our journey of faith is like a walk. Just putting one foot in front of the other over and over again and continuing without stopping, until we’re done. I’m not unhappy to say that most my days are pretty ordinary, pretty typical, pretty repetitive. Like walking. Not many exciting races or super bowls in my overall existence. I really think that life is won or lost in the way we face our everyday lives. When there’s a mountain to climb, we simply put one foot in front of the other and up we go.
The one activity that helps me the most to remain faithful and keep on going is regular time in God’s Word. I don’t do it well alone and so have found that a weekly Bible study where others expect me to show up with my study completed is a wonderful way for me to stay on the straight and narrow. That’s a good thing, because that path is where I want to be.