SEVEN IN A ROW

Seven little socks

hanging in a row

Whose can they be?

Maybe I know.

The long ones are sister's
The striped must be her brother's
The little bitsy baby ones
Are surely not her mother's!

Looking lost without their mates
hanging in a row
Seven little socks
with no place to go.

I'll hold them to my heart
Pretend I hear a giggle
as I tickle tiny toes
until they're in a pickle!

Then quietly I'll hang them up
seven in a row
and pray God bless the little feet
wherever they may go.

MICHAEL'S PROPHETIC WORDS

I'm going through boxes and boxes of stuff because we are moving. Today I came across a writing assignment Michael had in the 2nd grade. His teacher asked him to write about "If I Were a Missionary"and answer the following questions:

1) What kind of work would you do?

2) Where would you live?

3) What kind of food would you eat?

4) What would be some dangers you would face?

5) How would you or what would you tell people about Jesus?

Here is what Michael wrote:

"If I were a missionary I would be a singer. I would like to live in the United States of America.

I would eat taco salad every day. I love taco salad.

One of the dangers I would face would be hitting my car in an accident. I would tell people that Jesus died to save them, and that they could be saved."

Marley Molly

The spirit of Marley is in our boxer Molly. The list of things she has wrecked keeps growing. Yesterday she started to chew off the paint by the garage that had bubbled up from the humidity. She escaped twice from her collar--(it is now hanging on a nail on the door)--and we don't know how she did it. She whacked off both of our decorative bamboo clumps that grow--er, used to grow by the side of the house and she helped herself to a huge, blue, beautiful hydrangea flower.

During the Christmas season I had cookies cooling on the kitchen counter. I left for an instant and the front door was open. When I came back, a whole row of cookies was missing. Another day she went for a third of a fruit cake. To spite her, I gave her the old, stale gingerbread men that no one wanted to eat!

I scold, wag my finger in her face, threaten her with spankings, and she hangs her head and looks up at me with those liquid brown eyes--then goes right back to being naughty! What can I do?

Twice she turned on the hose and after hours of water washing into the neighbor's yard, they came to tell us something we didn't know!!!!!!! Molly! Molly! Molly! What are we going to do with you?

Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

William Shakespeare said it but I'm loathe to find the "sweet" in it. After spending nine months with Michael, Cari, Bella and Caleb--and almost 5 months with Lilani-- parting is far from sweet. I think words like soul-wrenching, tearing apart, yank, rip and wrest are more appropriate. It just plain hurts. Someone tried to console me by saying that wouldn't I prefer they were far away, but happy with life than living close to me and unhappy? Yes, of course, but that doesn't stop the bleeding.

Walking past their now silent, empty rooms brings tears to my eyes, a wish that I could lift the curtain of time and bring them back. When I open my kitchen cupboards and see Caleb's batman glass and Bella's princess glass still sitting quietly in their spots, it feels like they are still close--maybe gone for the day, but surely returning and I can pretend they haven't gone at all.

Any vestige of their presence brings comfort: a lost hair bow, a Dora the Explorer card from a memory game, a baby crib, a mismatched sock, a size 3 camouflage T-shirt, a lonely baby wipe left in the little blue elephant container, toothbrushes and Crest whitening toothpaste from the States, a Canadian coin, an abandoned pair of torn bermuda jeans size 34. And those are just the tangibles. There are also the intangibles: memories of two blonde heads bobbing up the stairs in the morning for breakfast, of Cari on the computer, Michael coming home from work with a cold bottle of coke (!), willing helpers whenever Grandma made tocolate cookies, Caleb's "Tama, tama", Bella's art work, Lilani's smiles, Cari's encouraging words, hearing Michael say, "Want to watch a movie with us?" giggles and hugs, snuggling in Grandma and Grandpa's bed, enjoying Cari's "eye for a good picture", proud of Michael's musical ability....and so much more.

God has blessed each of us with a memory bank--a place to come back to where we can pick up each memory one by one, hold it close for a moment, then return it to its place. The best part is that He has also given us a special person, the Holy Spirit, who understands us perfectly, who consoles and comforts us until the wounds are healed.