Biscuits

Those who know my mom have probably had her marvelous biscuits but you may not know about the best ones she ever made.

I was entering the 6th grade. Things were tough financially so we had moved into a farmhouse in East Texas. It was a year of eating lots of beans. Dad had to work long hours on a low paying job. So low paying that he taught me how to hunt, kill and clean rabbits and squirrels for our meat. I should probably add here that I have never even once thought of ever doing those things again. Meat comes to me in packages the way God intended.

The farmhouse had a fireplace in the living room where all five of us kids slept on the really cold nights. It was my job to have enough firewood cut and ready for those cold nights. And there were times when I did not bring in enough. Mom would send me back out in the middle of the night to get more if we ran out. I would take my dog, my flashlight, and my axe and go try to find a fallen tree that I could cut up. The cold was brutal. I remember one particularly cold night when I had such a hard time finding enough wood. I was so cold and so tired when I finally had enough and was able to lay back down. The next morning I woke up to the smell of Mom's biscuits. Mom had made biscuits from water and flour and she had made syrup with sugar and water. Maybe my best meal ever.

Now when I think about how she survived those days…. scratching meals together…chasing snakes off the back porch…coming face to face with a half-breed bobcat on the same porch…all the pressures and demands that came with 5 children, an angry and disillusioned husband, and we never missed a meal.

Two weeks before Mom left for heaven I had called her and told her that I would be at her house every Tuesday morning at 7:30 for breakfast. The next Tuesday she made a big pan of her wonderful biscuits. She invited my sisters over…it was a great morning. The next Sunday she got dressed for church but instead went into the hospital. I got to talk with her after she was checked into the emergency room. She looked so good. She was excited about the coming Tuesday. I told her she did not have to go all out every Tuesday...she said "Okay" but I knew she would anyway. We talked that day about how God is our friend.. She said "He is...He really is my friend." Then they came to take her for some test. I would never hear her sweet loving voice again…there would be no more Tuesdays. I know that God gave me one last breakfast with my Mom…one last really good conversation in the ER…He was paving the way for me to handle what was coming.

I visited her the next Wednesday night. She did not look good. I went home very unsettled. I told my wife “she will not be coming home.” And I spent some time in a deep sadness. I didn’t know why I felt that way but now I know it was God again preparing me.

The next morning I went by to see her before I went to work. But instead of a visit I was suddenly standing by her bed…telling her I loved her…I know she could hear me…her heart was slowly giving up…my sisters and other family rushed to be with us…we sang to her…her breathing heavy…and then…she left for heaven. I stood by her bed for a long time…I held her lifeless hand…it was amazingly soft…I thought of all the things those hands had done for me…I don’t remember ever having held my moms hand…maybe they were always busy… I miss her this morning…I’m so glad she feels no more pain…but I want to talk to her today… sadness has settled over me…I want to have biscuits with her…this friend of God.

Dive

Last night I was standing by the pool…it was late…a nice breeze was blowing. I decided I wanted to get in the water but I hesitated at the edge. I knew it was going to be a cold rush and I really didn’t want to go through that whole cold thing that happens when you first get in the water. But instead of letting myself dwell on the idea of how cold it was going to be…I dove…and it was cold. I swam fast to other end of the pool turned around and swam back and by the time I reached for the edge I was not cold anymore. As a matter of fact the water felt amazing. The sky looked all cool with clouds passing over the moon…the breeze felt even better…and the water was great!

I thought about how many of the really good things in life require a dive. We want to experience the best there is but sometimes we stand at the edge too long while we try to sort through things…can we risk losing what we do have…then we talk ourselves out of it. We go back and sit down where we are warm and comfortable. All we can do at this point is dream about the possibilities…wonder what might have been…but we know we have settled for less. We hesitated so we could try to set up the perfect plan…to reduce the discomfort…but the perfect plan was going with your instincts…leaping into the unknown…experiencing the cold…and then suddenly realizing that the very elements you feared have changed and are working for you!

Get up…walk over to the edge…believe there is more…and…dive.

Be The Tree

There is a tree that I walk by every morning. It is there everyday. Standing tall. Doing exactly what it is suppose to do. It has really gnarly and beautiful branches all twisted together. Its arms lift high in praise as they reach for the life of the sun. Roots’ go deep as they search for and receive the nutrients it needs for life. It is so faithful to just do and be what it was created to do…everyday. No matter the winds, the rain, the cold or heat, no matter if people notice or just walk by, it stands tall, does what it was created to do…everyday. I want to be like the tree.

Flying

I am only scratching the surface of what is available to me. There are infinite possibilities that are before me and I am limited only by my faith…by my willingness to consider new possibilities…to step into new ways of thinking.

Once when Jesus and His disciples were taking a boat across the sea a storm came up. It was a really frightening storm and the disciples were beginning to fear for their lives. However, Jesus, their leader, the miracle worker, was asleep in the boat. They woke Him up and said “Master we are about to die! Don’t you care?” He said to them “Don’t you have any faith?”

Sounds like a conversation I have had with God. “God, don’t you care” and He says “Don’t you have any faith”. It also sounds like many situations in life where I have “woke Him up” so to speak and demanded that He save me when all the while He is thinking “You can handle this storm…you can maneuver this boat…you are not going to die…you can do this…I have given you the wisdom and the power to handle situations like this… even to speak peace into a storm.



With this picture in my mind I have begun to approach each days challenges with more courage. I am letting go of every single preconceived idea of God and of myself. And I find that as I am walking and I do not grow weary, I am running and I do not faint, I am mounting up with wings as an eagle. I’m flying

Shine

My mornings continue to be extraordinary. As I run I allow my heart and mind to move into new places where I experience more of God. I am recognizing Him in more places. He is Omni-present so He is in everything and yet He is everything. He displays millions of expressions of Himself everyday through every living thing. I am one of those expressions of God. He has ask me to be salt and bring flavor to the world, to be and to release the brilliant colors of life that are available through Him and He made me to be light, so He very intentionally places me in moments of darkness and brokenness and says “Shine”.

Rain

I had worked late and my enthusiasm was low about doing my morning run. I started thinking maybe I shouldn’t do it. I was going to be working another 12 hour day and would need my strength. I knew the truth though. Go run and get your blood running and charge into this day instead of dragging through the morning.


As soon as I made that decision I heard thunder. Now I had a really good reason to not go. I looked outside and it was not raining yet. Knowing how rain moves all around us here in Texas I decided to go for it. I could probably do my entire run before it started.

I put on my running shoes and walked outside into the cool morning and knew I had made the right decision.

About that time the first raindrops began to greet me…one more chance to go back into the warm house. Instead I took off determined to do my four miles…and the rain came down. Big fat Texas rain. I looked straight up in the sky...the big drops crashing all around me...and I ran.

I thought about how I talk about rain. My words are usually about what rain is going to prevent me from doing or how it is going to interrupt my plans. Although, like most people, I enjoy a good rain when I’m sitting under a covered patio with a cup of coffee in my hands and nowhere I need to be. But most of my conversation about rain is negative. As though rain is not supposed to happen or that rain is a bad thing.

My experience on this morning could be a good one or a bad one and it all depended on one thing…the story that I would tell myself about rain.

So I let the rain hit my face and thanked God for how great it felt on my skin. There was a tremedous freedom that came with running into rain and allowing it to just soak me...and realizing that I had been missing this wonderful experience. Why do we grow up and forget how much fun it is to get wet? When did getting wet become an inconvenience?

I create my own realities. Everything, every situation, every event, even every person in my life is, for me, the story I tell myself about them. Which like the rain…my thoughts are not reality…they are not the entire story…they are just the ones I’m choosing to express at the moment. I can go from exasperating frustration to peaceful appreciation by simply by my choice of words.

What a great morning!

Big Yellow Miracles

Recently my two-year-old granddaughter was outside with me. We live right across the street from a high school and many school busses go back and forth from the school everyday. They are very loud and can hold you up if you are trying to get in or out of the neighborhood. Every time one went by she got so excited and would say in barely intelligible words “Big School Bus!” After about a dozen times I said “Yea a school bus!” She looked at me and gently corrected me” BIG School Bus”. I got it.


The Bigness of the School bus was the thing. It was down right amazing to a little two year old. It never occurred to her that they were too loud. Of course they were loud. They’re huge! They’re not an inconvenience. They’re a freaking yellow miracle rolling down the street!

I had to ask my self this question. “When did I forget that a big huge yellow school bus was a pretty amazing thing to see?” I had been seeing them everyday and missed that they actually had a beauty…a coolness…and amazing factor.

What is really phenomenal about this is that my brain reacts to whatever thoughts I feed it and my entire being is affected. My countenance, my attitude and my energy are dictated by the words I am choosing to think and say.

I am in total control of this process. I can change how I feel, about anything, by changing what I think about it. I can go from exasperating frustration to peaceful appreciation by simply changing my words…about anything…even big school buses.

Now I might decide I really don’t want to live where the school buses run every morning and that’s okay. But I can’t see them now without smiling because my story about school buses has forever changed. “Big School Bus!!!!