Jesi colored the picture for a class Assignment, and he gave it to me on Grandparent's Day. I posted it on my kitchen door. While I'm waiting for my breakfast to Cook I do push-ups against that door and I Come nose to nose with Jesi's project. It depicts a boy just like my grandson with Black lines pointing to Different parts of his body. The line drawn to his heart is labeled "love," The one to his wrist watch "patience," To his hand, "compassion," and to His feet, "useful, kindness," His belt, "forgiveness," His head, "humility," His eyes, "see, go, do," His back pack, "overlook the faults of Others." As I do my push-ups each morning reviewing the Godly qualities, I pray, "Lord, work out these graces in My grandson's life today, and while You're at it, Do the same for me." |
0 Comments
My daughter lives in the country and her
Back yard abuts a soybean field. Her hubby built a gazebo for her Behind the house. The screening keeps the bugs out but Not the breeze. I'm sitting in the six-sided structure this Morning sipping my coffee. I'm enjoying the solitude, the green Expanse and the non-stop chattering of The insects, probably griping because they Can't get to me. I hear the geese honking before I notice them Flying v-shaped overhead. They won't bother to stop here. I'm glad. The refreshing air, the serenity surrounding me draws Out all my stress. I see God everywhere I look. I'm getting my nature fix before it gets too Hot, and before I need to go back inside and Mop the kitchen floor. Since they're not babies any more, I call it
Boysitting. Ten and thirteen, my grandsons still Can't spend the night alone. I used to be able to play trucks and Cars with them and push them on Their swing set, but no longer. Today we went bug hunting for a School assignment. We managed to net a yellow Butterfly and a feisty grasshopper. But I'm old fashioned when it comes to Pokemon. In fact, I'm clueless. "Drive slow, Grandmomma. The eggs are about ready to hatch. Go back, Grandmomma. I want To catch one." I slowed to 8 miles an hour as I drove down the Country road and pulled over so a Car could pass by. We're back home now and they're engrossed in Another tech game. Soon, I'll insist they practice piano and Read and eat. Boysitting is a lot easier than baby sitting, but Not nearly as much fun. I drove past the college campus, the one
Where Jack received his degree when he Was 57 years old. It was orientation day and I saw an assortment Of students striding down the sidewalk. I thought back to my own freshman Year of college. I was fresh off the farm, Shy, Backward, Fighting acne and fear. Each year got better, but I never Really felt like I fit in. If I went back to school now, I would be Much better prepared. I'd yearn to learn. I'd reach out to others instead of waiting for Them to include me. Jack always said, "Marriage is too good for kids." I wonder whether he would say the same about College. Many collegians don't appreciate their Education. They'd rather party or protest. (I know that not all do.) But lots of young people would benefit from Working for a few years before entering Our universities. I wonder. Does college really prepare students for life? Or does experiencing life prepare Students for college? (Perhaps I SHOULD go back to school. :-) ) I use the term so lightly.
I say I'm a Christian. But what does it mean to be a Christ follower? Have I really read what He said? Deny myself. Carry my cross. Lose my life. Serve others. Suffer by doing good. I shy away from those difficult words. But Jesus didn't. He lived a sacrificial life and If I'm not willing to do the same, I should think twice before sharing His name. Jack was the best back scratcher.
"A little higher, Honey," I would Instruct him. "Now, more to the Middle. That's it. Aah." I missed him last night when I Had an itch. Lying in bed I reached for the clawed Bamboo stick that I keep in my Night stand. In the darkness I maneuvered the Device over my back trying to Reach the itchy spot. I finally gave up and placed the Implement on the bed beside me. When I woke up this morning and Noticed it lying there, I thought of my Warm, loving human back scratcher who Always spoiled me. I growled at the innocent stick. "What a sterile, miserable substitute You make!" And I stuck the imperfect but Better-than-nothing object back In its place. I had purchased my sweet corn at the
Farmer's market, stored the ears in the Cooler in my car, Bought my hard roll at the French Restaurant and found a table to Sit outside. But as I enjoyed my coffee and Newspaper, no server came by and all The other diners were occupied. I was disappointed that I found no one to Engage in conversation. But when I went inside to get a second Cup of coffee and returned to my Table, my tray had been removed and a jacket was Hung on the back of one of the chairs. Whose could it possiby be? Soon an elderly lady carrying her Tray walked toward me and explained. "The jacket belongs to my husband. We thought the table was unoccupied." "I'm almost finished," I said. "Please join me." As they sat down I addressed them. "Tell me about yourselves." It was a second marriage for the aged Couple, both widowed. The wife is an artist, a good one. One of her paintings is in our art museum. Her husband had been a diplomat in five Different countries. "Wow!" I said. "I've never met a diplomat." I suppose they'd never met someone quite Like me either. While we chatted I pulled my MENDING book from my purse. "You create with paint, and I create with words," I Told the sweet faced lady. I handed it to her and said, "I felt compelled to Bring a copy with me today. I believe it is meant for you," and I Wrote my phone number inside. She thanked me and we chatted a bit more. As I left the couple sitting there finishing Their breakfast, I was delighted that I hadn't gone to Market day just to buy corn. I don't like tunnels.
They're dark, confining, Foreboding. I fear being stuck in one. But as long as I'm heading toward the Light I'm okay. I can see a way out. Sometimes I think hell is one long Dark tunnel, whether it's hell on Earth on there; Not a flicker of light, but just mile after Mile of painful blackness with never, Ever an end in sight. It's a state too dreadful for me to even Contemplate. A fate that I'm eternally grateful I can Choose to avoid. "I am the light of the world. He who follows Me shall not walk in darkness, but have the light of life." John 8:12
|
Dorothy Kalb Hsu Seitzinger
Writing poetry has helped me process and express my sorrows and joys, my concerns and blessings. "Life is hard, but God is good!" Archives
December 2020
Categories
All
|