Beyond "Mommy and Daddy said so"

My parents raised me going to church. I didn't see the second half of The Wizard of Oz until I was in junior high because we didn't miss Training Union on Sunday nights until Training Union slipped into obscurity. And for some reason back then, the TV network always showed The Wizard of Oz once a year and always on a Sunday night. [This was years before VCRs and DVRs]. My parents not giving in to our whining to stay home and finish it was a powerful statement to me about their priorities.

But forty years later, I don't attend church or follow my faith just because Mommy and Daddy said so, although I appreciate their efforts. There should come a time in every individual's life where one questions one's upbringing, traditions, truth, and faith, or lack thereof. I accepted Christ officially into my life around seven years old, but I fully committed my life to him in my early twenties. That was when I cut the traditional-spiritual umbilical cord from my parents.

I was in college, and a speech class one semester was torturous for me when the teacher spent much of the time throwing very controversial issues at us and challenging the majority to persuade the minority to believe as they did. For issues like legalizing drugs, lowering the drinking age, and abortion, the majority was all on board. I didn't have a problem with inter-racial marriage, but the majority did. I had a problem marrying outside the faith, but the majority didn't. Without exception, I was in the minority on every issue and was bombarded from every side to abandon my beliefs and come over to the majority's side. Often I drove home from class in tears because I realized much of what I believed was "because Mommy and Daddy said so." I appreciate the class now because it forced me to question my beliefs, and then crystalize and know exactly why I believed what I believed.

I learned that I didn't agree with everything my denomination taught, but I eventually knew without a doubt that I was walking the right path with the God of the Bible, which teaches that a relationship with Jesus Christ is the only way to God the Father. And if we don't like that, we need to remind ourselves that God is God, and He can set things up in His creation however He sees fit. But comparing my faith to some of the other well-known religions, how many of those worship and honor a living God? My God is a God of love, not hate. He does not expect us to proselytize others through force or kill those who do not believe as we do. He does not require us to avenge Him by threatening death to someone who insults Him. He's big enough to handle that Himself, and He chooses to extend grace to those who despise Him. I'm so thankful I live in a country that allows me to express my faith without worrying about someone trying to kill me because I believe differently than they do.

But on a more personal level, my faith forces me to look inward. God is the only thing that keeps my totally self-serving-self at bay. When our culture preaches that the narcissist, entitled, self-indulgent lifestyle "because we deserve it" attitude is what we should aspire to, God wants us to live an "others-centered" lifestyle and exhibit grace and forgiveness toward others because that's what He's done for us through Christ.

It's unfortunate that so many secular history books have stripped the influences of the Christian faith from our country's history. The lack of freedom from a government-mandated religion was why many people fled to America's shores. Our Founding Fathers freely expressed their faith and its influence in the forming of our country. Our society's morals and work ethic were founded on Judeo-Christian principles. Many of the colleges and universities were founded by religious institutions until they became secularized. Many of the abolitionists and later those involved with the Civil Rights movement were people of faith. Many hospitals, orphanages, drug rehabs, and soup kitchens were started because God impressed upon believers of the need to help. How many of the angry religions can say the same about the good their faith has done for mankind?

My faith allows me the freedom to question and the freedom to grow. God is no less insecure when I question certain aspects about my faith. I'm sure there will be some things that I'll never have the answer to this side of life. And I love the hope and assurance that this brief wisp of time we call life is only a prelude to an eternity with Him face to face.

As a friend of mine told me, "the Christian life is the best way to live one's life." And I don't know how people cope during the difficulties we all face in life without a relationship with God. I'm so grateful that I was raised by parents who believed in God and put their faith in Him. And that is the most important legacy I can leave my own children, who also have the freedom to question their beliefs and choose whatever path the their spirit leads them.

Miraculous Grace

It was Thursday afternoon in October of 2008, and my parents and I were buying a house together in a new community. Our closing date was on the following Wednesday morning at 9:00 a.m. I planned to borrow a substantial amount of money from my annuity for part of the down payment, and I was so proud of myself for not waiting until the last minute to call the out-of-state company to ask them to transfer the money into my bank account.

My heart dropped when I was told by a very nice lady that they didn't do transfers, that their policy was to cut a check and mail it. Then she said that since it was after 3:00 p.m. on Thursday, the request wouldn't go in until the next day-- Friday.

Okay, I thought to myself. The check will still have time to get here by Tuesday.

Then she said that I could expect the check in five to ten business days.

Breathe, Donna. This can't be happening.

Then I learned that Monday was a holiday, and the banks and post office would be closed.

There was no way that check could get here by Tuesday. And I still had to go to the bank to deposit it, and then get a money order because the bank wouldn't be open before our closing Wednesday morning, which took place in a nearby town.

By this time I started panicking. I tried to think of someone I could borrow the money from until the check arrived, but most of the people I knew didn't have that amount of discretionary money sitting around. I thought about my son who was stationed overseas, but by the time he got the message and contacted his bank, they weren't able to make the transaction in time either. Over the weekend a dear friend in Houston offered to loan me the money, but I hated for her to go to all that trouble, and it would mean a drive over there because the post office wouldn't be able to deliver it in time since they were closed on Monday. And I had to work on Monday.

And then it dawned on me that even if the check did arrive on time, banks often required three to five days to clear the check before the funds could be withdrawn. It looked hopeless.

I had no doubt that we were supposed to buy this house. Some extraordinary events happened in that process. I came to town one day to see a larger home we were considering buying, but I'd also seen this cute, cottage-looking house online that was too small for us to buy, but I wanted my realtor to walk me through it because it had a big porch on the front, and I loved porches. Then when I first walked through it, I just knew it was the house we were supposed to buy. But before my parents could get up here to see it, the house sold.

I couldn't get it off my mind, though, and I asked my realtor to keep me posted about the house. She told me it was a done deal, that the listing was already taken off the Web. But then a couple of weeks later she called me and said, "You're not going to believe this, but the house is back on the market. The buyers' financing fell through, but they're still looking to finance through some other means, so there's a small window of opportunity here." My parents immediately came up and looked at the house, and in three days, we had an offer on the table, and it was accepted.

My house had sold in nine days, and at that time I was living temporarily with my daughter and her family until my parents and I found this house to buy. Now it was time to close on our dream home, and my mistake put the transaction in jeopardy. I remember lying in bed with my face to the wall with no solution coming to mind, and all I could say to God was, "I'm so sorry I messed up, but I trust You. I trust You. I trust You."

On Tuesday I went to the post office on my lunch break, and I pulled out an envelope with no return address. I first thought it was junk mail and almost threw it away, but I decided to open it up and was shocked to find a check for $20,000 dollars. I stared at it, amazed that it had arrived in time. But then I remembered that the bank would have to wait until it cleared before they released the funds.

I took the check to my bank to deposit it, and I asked the teller how long I needed to wait until I was able to get a money order I needed to close on our house. She looked at it and said I could get it right now. I figured she misunderstood me, so I asked her again how long I needed to wait until the check cleared, and she said very nicely again that I could get it right now. I asked her how that could be, and she showed me the check and said that this out of state company just happened to use the same bank as mine, and because of that, they didn't have to hold the funds for a period of time like they would for any other check on any other bank.

I stood there in shock. And then I started laughing out loud. They probably thought I'd gone crazy there for a minute, so I told the tellers what had just happened-- that God had done the impossible. I had the money order in hand the next morning when we closed on the house.

I pull that story out of my head every so often to remind myself that God is still a God of miracles, and that when I can see no way out of a situation or no solution to a problem, that He can still overcome any obstacle, even those times when it's my mistake. That doesn't mean my life has been problem-free, and I've been given plenty of difficulties to learn from, but I'm so grateful for those moments He's showered his grace on me in a miraculous way. Amazing.

Family picture taken on the porch of our new home

Thanksgiving 2008

God Knew

When I lived in Austin, I attended Great Hills Baptist Church, and my Sunday School class planned a Christmas party in a nice apartment complex's party room. I almost didn't go. I tend to slide into a recluse mode if I'm not careful, and I was going through something difficult at the time, and it zapped every reason for me to attend a party. But I knew somebody was making the effort to do something for us outside the classroom, so I forced myself to dress up and go.

About twenty-five women showed up, and someone had even invited a speaker to present a devotion or something. We all ate and then gathered around a fireplace to hear something about the Christmas story or pertaining to the season, we assumed. I can't even remember the speaker's name, but she started with telling us that this seemed an odd subject for Christmas time, but the Lord kept leading her  to talk about divorce.

The topic of divorce for a Christmas party?

It hit me like a ton of bricks. I looked around. No one knew that my husband had asked me for a divorce only a couple of weeks ago. No one knew I was going back home for my first visit since the news broke. I was too embarrassed to admit it to this godly group of women. But I was even more ashamed to face my home church and community. They all seemed to know about my divorce before I did. I felt like I had failed everyone, and I was about to face one of the toughest weekends of my life.

I was sitting there shaking as the woman wrapped up her talk. I didn't want to lose control in front of these women, but I knew God had impressed upon her to talk about divorce for my sake, and I felt like I needed to tell her that. So I told her that I was the reason she was supposed to talk about divorce-- that I was getting a divorce, and I had been too embarrassed to tell anyone about it, but that I was going home and facing everyone for the first time, and it terrified me.

All of the women gathered around me and lifted me up in prayer. I was able to go back to my hometown and face everyone without falling apart. I even took my precious mother-in-law to the Christmas cantata at my home church. I was able to walk through my house-- the house I designed and decorated-- without breaking down. I just felt an overwhelming sense of sadness as the memories rushed in to meet me in every room.

I have no doubts that it was God's strength that got me through that weekend, thanks to the prayers of those women. But if it had been up to me, no one would've known, and I would've headed home in my own feeble strength and misery. But God knew what I needed, and like He's done countless times in my life, He picked me up and dusted me off and offered me his hand to walk me through it.

A Christmas Scavenger Hunt

Grandparents in our family were given strict orders concerning gifts for the grandchildren: NO TOYS. So I haven't been looking forward to my grandkids' faces not lighting up when they open up their packages of practical gifts like socks and jeans. But they're sweet kids. They won't throw a fit because we didn't get them a toy. They will say "Thank you, Nonna." And they'll go on about their playing. But I want it to be fun, so I created a Christmas scavenger hunt for them this morning.

As I post this, I'm waiting for them to arrive at our house for their weekly visit. They're leaving tomorrow to spend Christmas with their other grandparents, so they'll be receiving our gifts to them today. When they look under the tree and don't find any gifts for them, I'm going to pretend that we forgot where we hid them. The only clues to where they are will be envelopes on the tree-- one for Audrie and one for Finn. The clues in the cards said:

Dear Audrie & Finn,
     We are getting forgetful in our old age. We hid your Christmas presents and can't remember where we put them, but we wrote some clues so hopefully you can find them.

Finn Clue #1: Your gift is where you and PaPaw like to work.

[PaPaw's workbench in our garage]

Finn Clue #2: Your next gift is inside a secret place that we usually forget is there. It's hidden inside a soft, puffy piece of furniture and is a favorite place for you to pull out and see what's in there.

[The drawer in the couch]

Finn Clue #3: Your next gift is outside in plain view, but people probably think it's a part of our Christmas decorations. It's sitting on something that is built to move.

[One of the rocking chairs on the front porch]

Finn Clue #4: Your next gift is hidden outside under 

something blue that isn't the sky. 

It's covering something you love to play on.

[The tarp covers the ramp we built for my mother].

Finn Clue #5: Your next gift is hidden in a place hollowed out like a boat, but the water goes inside of it 

instead of the outside!

[Inside the bathtub]

Finn Clue #6: Your last gift is your stocking, which we had to hide to keep Snickers from getting into it. It's in a place that looks like a bookstore of new books inside our house, but remember to turn on the light so you can see it.

[In the bookshelves]

 Audrie Clue #1: Your first gift is under a place 

to rest one's head.

[Under a bed pillow]

 Audrie Clue #2: Your next gift is a place that is as hot and dry as the Sahara Desert. You wouldn't want to spend any time there!

[In the dryer]

Audrie Clue #3: Your next gift is hiding quietly in the newest piece of furniture in our house. 

 [In the baby's playpen]

Audrie Clue #4: Your next gift is outside the house on top of a place that's as cold as the North Pole!

[On the chest freezer in the garage]

Audrie Clue #4: Your next gift is outside, sitting beneath something that moves, but never touches the ground.

[Under the porch swing]

Audrie Clue #6: Your last gift is your stocking, which we had to hang it high to keep Snickers from getting into it. It used to be a dark place where light couldn't reach, but we spread it all out and with the flip of a switch can see everything now.

We remodeled the kitchen pantry in one day-- changing 3 deep shelves into 6 shallow shelves where we could see everything since the shallow shelves couldn't block the pantry ceiling light anymore. The stocking is hanging on one of three ceramic insulators I found in our attic. I'll show the before pictures in another post.

I didn't spend a whole lot of money on the grandkids, but I wrapped the gifts separately so it would spread out the scavenger hunt. In planning the scavenger hunt, which didn't take as long as I thought it would, I found that it was easiest for me to write down potential hiding places first, choosing easier places for Finn, who's five years younger than his sister. Then I wrote the clues that fit the hiding places and taped them to labels that I attached to each gift, in an order that revealed the next clue to find the next gift and so on. Most of these clues will be easy for them to figure out, but if I do any more hunts in the future, I'll probably make the riddles a little more challenging. 

I'm going to have Finn go first and as he finds a gift, I'll instruct him to leave it in the living room unopened until he finds all of them. Then Audrie will go find her gifts. That way we can all tag along with both of them if we want to. Then they can open their gifts together while we watch. 

Can't wait for them to get here!

P.S.H. (Post Scavenger Hunt) Not long after the kids arrived, Finn went to the bathroom. After a few minutes he came out so excited carrying the big gift that was hidden in the tub. I told him to go put it back-- that he had to find them in the right order. Then I asked him how he found it since it was hidden from sight behind the shower curtain, and he said, "I always look in the bathtub when I go to the bathroom." And Audrie said she did, too! We had a good laugh about it. I think I'm going to put something scary in the bathtub the next time they come to visit just to see if they really do look in the bathtub every time they go to the bathroom.

And they loved the scavenger hunt! Most of the clues were easy for them. Finn said the hardest clue for him was for the gift outside under the blue tarp. And Audrie had to think a while when it came to guessing the dryer. She checked the stove first, then the heater closet, and eventually thought of the dryer. We had a ball watching them. 

Hereditary

My grandfather, Albert M. Beights, is the tall, dark & handsome young man standing in the back behind his father. He was the oldest of eleven children.

I wonder how much, if any, of our ancestors' memories are imprinted on our DNA? Every so often a scene or a phrase or a moment in time gives me a deja vu feeling, like I have experienced that before, even when I'm in a new environment. I'm sure many of those moments are overlapping memories in my own life-- something that triggers a familiar feeling. But I'm not so sure that is the case for every instance of strange familiarity we come across in our lives.

I watched a television program on Ireland and Wales a while back, and I sat there transfixed looking at the scenes of the countryside. I have never been to Ireland, but something deep down inside felt a familiarity and a connection to what I was viewing. I feel the same when I hear Celtic music. Is it simply that I know some of my ancestors came from that area of the world? Or could it be a faint imprint of memories from hundreds and thousands of years of ancestors who came before me... the ones whose blood runs through my veins? I wonder about those people sometimes... those who gave me my eyes and skin color and freckles and moles, my hair color and the propensity for it to thin right above my forehead, my body shape and height, the weight's my problem, my straight top teeth and crooked bottom teeth. Who gave me strong legs and weak arms, my creative thoughts and stubborn will?

I can look to my most immediate ancestry-- my parents, and see the obvious. I have my fathers wide big toe and my mother's remaining smaller toes. I have my father's squared off fingers and big knuckles rather than my mother's feminine, tapered ones. I have my mother's eyes, but my father's eyelids. I look more like my mother in the face, but people say I walk like my father. I hope I've also inherited their kind, generous hearts, their ability to bloom where they're planted, and their incredible legacy of integrity, consistent faith and dedication to God, and loyalty to family and friends. But when you think about it, those are actually modeled traits, and I'm so thankful I was born into their family to witness their lives all these years. They were and are great role models for me to watch and pattern those traits in my own life.

I am a convergence of a hundred generations before me. It staggers my mind to think of that. How exciting it would be to meet everyone in my lineage. What interesting conversations we could have! I wonder if there is someone in my past that looked like me. I wonder from whom I inherited this tendency to talk or write more than I should...

I can't think only of the past without acknowledging the present and looking to the future. I need to be aware of what I'm passing on to my children, my grandchildren, and if the Lord tarries, to other descendants. Am I modeling good habits and a loving and generous spirit? Am I leaving an inheritance behind? Maybe not so much monetarily, sorry kids, but I hope the time God has given me here has not been in vain. I hope I've influenced and encouraged those around me in positive ways. I have regrets, though. I've wasted time. I've been lazy. I've failed in some major areas of my life. But I've experienced the opposite, too, and I'm learning to let the good memories, the things I've done right, and the times of productivity and hard work prevail over the regrets.

The adjective hereditary can describe tangible as well as intangible traits. I've actually heard some people boast or use as an excuse that they had their father's temper, or their family's bad financial habits, as if those were as unchangeable as their eye color. And these days much more time is focused on the physical and mental traits rather than the spiritual. But the latter is the only one with eternal benefits and consequences. And God's legacy to us? Heredity through adoption in which we can experience His love, blessings, favor, guidance, understanding of His Word, wisdom (if we ask for it), and eternal life through acceptance of His Son. The difference is that we had no choice in choosing our physical parentage and the color of our skin, but we can choose our spiritual parentage and the quality of our character.

Now at this point, I would also like to apologize to  my children for their inherited skin conditions, thinning hair, crooked teeth, nearsightedness, and colorblindness, but I hope they will also recognize and appreciate the love, the creativity, the humor, and especially the legacy of faith handed down to them.

Looking backward and forward in my lineage, I can say what a fortunate and blessed grand-daughter, daughter, sister, child of God, friend, wife, mother, aunt, and grandmother. What a joy!

Audrie's Eyes

There's nothing like the view from Audrie's eyes

     Eyes that don't miss a thing

Sometimes I have to get down at her eye level

     Which makes me think would limit me

But she sees things I stopped seeing long ago

     The stale becomes fresh; the old becomes new

The dark becomes light

     And I come out of hiding

Lonely walks out the door when she walks in

     The present and future push out the failures of the past

Possibilities replace ambivalence

     The standstill starts moving

Roots to the couch are severed as she takes my hand

     The cogs start turning to the constant tune of "Why?"

She doesn't just make a tent in the living room

     She decorates its interior

Rock hunting takes on a whole new adventure

     Spiders are given names

Bamboo sticks are swords or letters or drumsticks

     I find myself back in school and she is the teacher

She opens the curtains in the kitchen

     "So we don't miss the sunset, Nonna!"

Sunsets have never been more beautiful

     Than seeing them through Audrie's eyes

 *  *  *

I wrote this poem in June, 2005 when my first grandchild Audrie was four and a half years old.
The top photo was taken at Christmas, 2007

She is almost twelve years old today, and she still likes to make tents,
but with her brother now.

Saying Goodbye

One of the foundation characters of my mom's favorite soap, The Bold and the Beautiful, made a permanent exit from the show today. I haven't watched a soap opera in thirty years, but I couldn't help but catch snatches of it walking through the living room while Mom had the TV on. I found myself holding back sobs watching Susan Flannery, portraying the matriarch Stephanie Forrester, touchingly play out her last scenes reconciled with her arch-nemesis Brooke. I'm glad the writers ended it that way.

The storyline hit a little too close to home with my mother entering the difficult stages of ALS. I fluctuate between keeping a happy face on, which I sometimes confuse with denial, and watching my beautiful mother deteriorate daily. I pray that God helps me to be sensitive to her needs, trying to find a good balance between doing what I can for her versus not taking away her independence and need to feel needed, and that balance isn't always easy to find.

It bothers her tremendously to be so helpless and have to depend on others to help her do little things like help her out of the chair, help her dress, and cook for her. She even wrote me a note apologizing for being so helpless and that we ought to put her in a nursing home. That broke my heart. I told her that she has years of 'help credit' built up from all she's done for us, and that I'm happy to be here for her. She is the most giving person I know. We want to keep her home as long as possible if we're capable of taking care of her.

On Fridays I take her to the beauty shop in her wheel chair, and for twenty minutes, I get to read the magazines. I was flipping through a People magazine and came across an interview with the wonderful singer Amy Grant. The photos were of her family, and the biggest one was Amy and her father walking together outside. She lost her mother in 2011, and the article said both parents suffered from dementia.

She shared something that really struck home with me. She said, "A friend told me, 'This is the last great lesson that your parents will teach you.' That changed everything. I've learned that even tough situations are beautiful."

I never thought about this being a lesson. I just know that I want to do it well. I want to make these days as good as they can be for my mother, and even though things are getting hard, I'm grateful for the extra time I have with her.