I Grew Up Rich

I grew up rich.
Don't let the tattered hand-me-downs,
Or rusted out floorboards
In the sputtering Chevy fool you.
Where the best, if any, meat on the table
Was a deer or rabbit
Or maybe a squirrel caught in
The sight of Daddy's rifle.
The thin, cold sheets on the squeaky, shared beds,
Pinto beans and cornbread suppers -
Again -
Don't give the secret away.
For we were wealthy beyond measure.
Not just a Mama and Daddy
Who loved us, corrected us, taught us,
Modeled character and
Prayed for us each day and night.
But more relatives and friends
Than gold bars in Fort Knox.
Grandparents, cousins, Uncles and Aunts,
Even Great Uncles who teased us
And Great Aunts who made blue-ribbon jams
If the weather was good enough
To be blessed with berries.
Days spent laughing and running,
Hours spent in church and praying for others,
Minutes spent to purchase sweet memories,
Lessons of life that last beyond life,
Still usable and spendable after others are gone.
Passed on by will and choice
To the next generation.
Love from our Eternal Father,
Priceless gift of His salvation
And blessing of His Lordship,
Lived out in love by others,
The greatest treasure.
I grew up rich.

The Love of Jesus

The love of Jesus
Is what remains
When death takes from us
All of life's gains.
So if it's glory
That you chase
Remember the end
Of life's swift race.
Run for the prize
That does not fade.
The love of Jesus
Is why you were made.

The Heaviest Weight

I used to think that the heaviest weight was the pressure of "success" doing well at school, career, family.  Then I found myself expecting a wonderful miracle and thought "Oh, the heaviest weight is trying to do things "right" for this child so that I will not mess him/her up really badly."  That weight continued and multiplied with each child, added to the weight of "success" and "marriage", it is just amazing that my back wasn't crushed into "smithereens" (one of our second son's favorite childhood words).  Then you divide your time and energy between how you look/feel/handle stress, etc., subtract any sense of completion and you have the perfect equation for a screaming woman.

And that was life.  For far too long.  I knew I was supposed to remember and believe "..my yoke is easy and my burden is light", I knew I was not to "worry about tomorrow" and to trust the One who counts the numbers of hair on our heads.  I knew lots of scripture, and good advice, and knowledge which came with experience.  Over and over others would remind me what I knew myself - this was not the way life for a Christian was supposed to be.  So another day, another good ole college try, another frustrating look back over the hours.  Truly I loved my Lord and Savior.  Truly I loved my family even when sometimes I didn't especially like them (or them like me).  But there were two problems entangling and strangling me.  First, I thought I knew what love was but had no idea what true agape love looked like.  As I heard recently it was "sloppy agape", not really consistent, not even truly loving for the full benefit of the recipient instead of me.  Secondly, I still had a really, really heavy burden.  It is worse than kryptonite for Superman but it is the most real, most binding burden.  No, it's not sin.  That's the second heaviest.  It is only four little English letters long but it is so heavy, so saturating that there is no hope for us to ever rid ourselves of the weight.  S - E - L - F.  period.  That is the heaviest weight, and that is the one that we don't have to carry.  Turning myself over to the one whose "yoke is easy" is the most wonderful choice, the most freeing choice.  Unfortunately, it is a daily choice and sometimes I still forget and take that weight back on my feeble back.  Will you remind me?  Will we remind each other?  His yoke is truly, honestly, lovingly, a relief and very light.  It's our own selfish burden that is heavy.  Remind me, and I will remind you.  Together we can dance, maybe even fly we will be so light!