WALK STEADY

Ephesians 4:1 [KJV] states in part, "that ye walk worthy of the vocation...".   In my old Bible, penned in the margin, is the lofty thought, "a walk is steady."

My son, Steve, when he was ten years old, was a "string bean" with hands and feet too large for his lean frame. 
 

It seemed he was always in trouble for bumping, tripping, falling, or dropping.  Praise God for wise teachers ... one encouraged me by saying, "Steve doesn't have any trouble he won't outgrow.  He'll get all his parts going the same direction.  It just takes time."

When I passed the age of ten in my Christian walk 36 years ago, I also wondered when all my parts would go the same direction ... when I wouldn't have to flinch when I read the words "a walk is steady."

Yes, I loved my Lord then, and I dearly love Him now.  My heart yearns for more closeness with Him.  My heart is in the right place.

But --  this wife, mother, grandmother, missionary [local and beyond], knee-jerk-taking-care-of-people-person...

    ...sometimes finds her feet tangled, trying to be all things to all people;

    ...sometimes cries in tiredness and frustration;

    ...sometimes whispers a sleepy "I love you" to Jesus as another hectic or complicated day ends.

I know that the malady of our cultural age -- too much activity crammed into too little time -- has no easy answers.  Most of my activities are not options and, even those that are, do appear to be God-directed.

So -- I gallop jerkily along, occasionally coming to a screeching halt, tripping over gravel in the road, definitely not walking, and definitely not steady.

But God loves me anyhow.  He loves me when I over-book my schedule ... and when I use my few times of leisure inappropriately (Who, ME??? staring off into space??) ... when I am undisciplined in my study and writing needs and have to "cram" ... when I open the Word, the posts, the FB life ... to read it, only to fall asleep half way through the intended scriptures.

Why am I sharing this "negative confession?"  Because I am not alone.  In the work-world, our living day-by-day world, the [not me!!] texting-instantly world, the FB world, I hear and see that others struggle with the same awkward gait ... who long to be that fine-tuned specimen of Christian maturity and "walk steady."

And I'm sharing this because of the common ground we share,  the ground of God's love -- our joy, hope and crown.  He knows our hearts, and, in spite of our busyness, He knows we love Him.

That gives me HOPE... forever and ever.  AMEN!!

MY GRANDMOTHER "MIRACLE" FOR ME

My Grandmother Driskell was one of the saddest and maddest people I ever knew.  BUT I didn't know why, then.  During ALL these years since she died, Christmas, 1963, when I was 18, I hadn't heard much of anything.  Then, when I was visiting family in Tacoma last October, I saw some albums piled with photos and I heard bits of info that had never surfaced, but had started to rise up with paperwork found after my mom's death nearly 2 years ago.

My mom was born in 1920 in Tacoma and she was adopted.  I had been given the idea over time that my mom was wanted by the man to adopt her, but not by the woman. Found out recently that he was 50 and she was 39 when my mom, their new baby, was taken into their home.  I knew my mom had a sister.  What I didn't know til now was that their daughter, Ruth, had died in 1918 at the age of 5.  From what I understand, grandmother must have been still in sorrow and grief when this new baby was forced into her life.

Mom's dad, Edwin, had a real heart for her, from what we can understand.  He had a good city judge/atty job and a variety of ways to pull money in.  The house he had purchased was nice, to say the least.  I don't know where my grandmother's heart was, but, even though at that stretch of time she wasn't a "sweetness and light" person, MORE hit her.

First, her daughter [my mom] had polio in 1927-28.  Not as serious as some patients in those days, but she missed school for quite some time, especially in 3rd grade.  Next, Edwin, her husband, died in 1928. THEN, even though she had a fair amount of money, the Great Depression hit in 1929.  It wasn't long before she rented the house to others and moved back to Wisconsin where she could be with her family out there during that very tough financial time.  Mom was pushing 10 when entering Wisconsin;  she graduated in 1938.

 Mom was 6'2" in high school.  THAT got her attention!

Grandmother moved back to Tacoma to that same house after mom's graduation.  Mom, too, a few months later. And after I was born, I spent time there, off and on, for quite a number of years.

OK.  Now the main reason I'm writing this is because grandmother was very intense and didn't show a lot of care for us kids.  AND when it came to money, she wouldn't give any to anyone.  Thanksgiving would have hotdogs, not turkey, for instance.  She didn't put her money in the bank -- a number of people who went through the Great Depression didn't -- and she kept all of it -- a couple thousand -- in her purse.  [In those days, a thousand dollars was worth a whole lot more than it is now.]
 

THEN, in winter, 1956, when in 6th grade, I became very ill with either Asian flu or something connected to rheumatic fever. [Been told both possible, and have had symptoms from both ever since.  So, don't know for sure.] I'd been sick for days, my fever was quite high and I was having hallucinations.  Around midnight, the family doctor came to our house ... remember those days, folks?? ... and was not certain whether I would live or die.  I know he told my dad to give me a teaspoon of water every 20 minutes.  And Dad did ... all night.

The next day, a Sunday, my grandmother was brought to the house.  She stood by my bed, knowing I was probably going to die.  And my never-spending-money-for-anyone-grandmother, said, "IF you live, I will buy you a coat."

I don't know, but somehow that rushed into me and I DID come to health in a fairly short stretch of time, just a few days.  Afterwards, I DID go to a department store with my parents and grandmother and I DID get to choose a coat.  In our family, we had little money, rarely new clothes.   THIS. was. a. treat!!

As an 11-year-old, I chose a coat I will never forget.

It was a tweed-style coat with a variety of shades of blue. And the buttons were large and the THIS "letter" color.  YES, now I live in purple.  THEN I lived in blue.  And, as I said, this is one coat, one gift, I will never forget.

And, with what my grandmother went through in life, she was filled with fear, sorrow, anger, frustration.  I know she had gone to a Baptist church in Tacoma many, many years ago.  I have no idea where she truly was with the Lord, but, I hope, desperately hope, her heart was in Him.  I'd like to see her again...  I want to thank her for that coat.

SHE spoke the "giving" words and, even filled with fever, I truly heard them; then the LORD planted them deeply in my heart.

And, because of her offer, I lived.  

HALLELUJAH!!!!