March Madness, Lee Version

We've been rather completely absorbed this weekend in March Madness, although it isn't quite the same without the Spiders in the tournament.  Over the years they have made some great "Cinderella" appearances, and made it to the Sweet 16 round in 2011.  They even got good airtime yesterday as the commentators, on the heels of Norfolk States's win, reviewed the very first time a 15th seed beat a 2nd seed, when Richmond beat Syracuse in 1991.  UR is the only team to win NCAA tournament games as a 12, 13, 14, and 15 seed.  There have been some fun games over the years, just not this year.  Oh well, there's always next season.

So we made our own madness.  When we were shopping for this house in 2004, tops on my list of "must haves" was a big dining room.  I've always had an aversion to holiday events where everyone couldn't eat together in the same room.  Must go back to some childhood trauma of having to eat at the kid's table in the kitchen, or something.  Anyway, that was my goal---a big enough dining room.  Not that I'm a great hostess, but we usually have family and some friends, usually UR students, for Easter dinner, and often host Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner at our house.  Years ago, that meant 5-7 people, but if all of my side of the family came today, that would be 15, Brian's family 13.

Well, needless to say, our dining room isn't big enough. I've tried being creative by adding a 6-foot folding table somewhere close to the dining room table, but I've found that even parallel, you really can't get more than 10-12 people SQUEEZED into the dining room.  We've tried an "L" shape, adding a card table, a sofa table from the hall----none of the options worked.  At Christmas we had all of my family for my mom's birtdhay celebration, and the overflow table was in the living room.  It just didn't work for me.

Right after that, a good friend stopped by, and was talking about how she had turned her dining room into a playroom for her grandchildren, and moved her dining room furniture to the living room.  A light bulb went on for me.  It could work, but I would have to convince Brian.  You see, for him, the intention of the room is what it is----and shouldn't be changed.  And there was a chandelier in the dining room, no ceiling fixture in the living room.  There were pros, there were cons.  But the deciding factor for him was when I pointed out that if you greeted a guest at our front door, you had to ask them to step inside, then close the door so that they could go left into the living room, while the dining room to the right was completely accessible.  Bad design?  Maybe, but the traffic flow just didn't work for welcoming anyone.

So, with Easter just a few weeks away, last night we did it.  The living room is now the dining room, and the dining room is now the living room.  We still have to move pictures, swap mirrors, and fill in a few empty spots, but it works.  The new living room/old dining room looks inviting, and to the scale that our furniture fits.  The new dining room?  I honestly think that end to end I could have our dining room table, and our kitchen table, and a 6-foot folding table.  That's a minimum of 18-20 people that could fit in there!  It's big, almost cavernous for the furniture we have, but we'll be able to have everyone eat together for Easter, which will make me very, very happy.  It really doesn't take much.

Clouds

In June of 2005, our son Aaron spent a week serving on a mission project in the state, and returned home on a Saturday.  The following Wednesday he was leaving for a week in the Bahamas on another project, and then on to Jamaica to work at a Baptist camp for 5 weeks.  His airline tickets had arrived while he was with away for the week, but I had verified that he had his tickets from Richmond to Ft. Lauderdale, Ft. Lauderdale to Bahamas, Bahamas to Ft. Lauderdale, Ft. Lauderdale to Jamaica, Jamaica to Ft. Lauderdale, and Ft. Lauderdale to Richmond.  His dad and brother were on a church mission trip in Atlanta that week, so it fell my responsibility to get him to the airport for an EARLY flight. 

We left home about 3:30 AM, and let’s just say, I was decent, but not dressed for anything but dropping him off at the curb at the airport, because I was going to go home and back to bed.

Before we even got in the car, I made him show me his tickets for both trips and his passport----he had everything.  As he drove along in the dark, I commented, “Well, today is your cousin Sarah’s 15th birthday.”  He looked at me, and said, “What is today’s date?”  “The 29th,” I answered, to which he replied, “My tickets are dated the 28th.”

 

I thought he was kidding, but sure enough, they were for the day before.  And because the limit on his credit card wasn’t very high, I knew he couldn’t pay any additional charges to change the ticket, so, dressed as I was in sweats and with ‘bedhead’, I had to go inside the airport.  For something like $282 we got the tickets changed (Cameron likes to say Aaron was a day late and $282 short), he got to the Bahamas, and somehow managed to catch up with the people who probably were waiting for him the day before!

A week later, he headed to Jamaica, at exactly the same time as Hurricane Dennis.   Seriously, the arrival time was the same.  In fact, as I tried to track the flight, I got “No information on this flight”----which was a little unnerving; no it was very unnerving.   However, they arrived safely, managed to get to the camp, and waited out Dennis.  Exactly one week later, Hurricane Emily decided to pay a visit as well, and they actually had to evacuate the camp.   During those times, as we waited for word that they were safe, I vividly remember the hymn, “Till the Storm Passes Over” running through my head over and over again.

On to the point----as Aaron left home I gave him a card, with this Scripture written inside, as a prayer of protection from the sun and the elements while spending most of the summer in the tropics:

Isaiah 4:5-6
Then the LORD will create over all of Mount Zion and over those who assemble there a cloud of smoke by day and a glow of flaming fire by night; over all the glory will be a canopy. It will be a shelter and shade from the heat of the day, and a refuge and hiding place from the storm and rain.
 (I had no idea how providential that choice was!)

I later began to think of how many times “clouds” appear in the Bible:

Genesis 9:13
I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth.

Exodus 13:21-22
By day the LORD went ahead of them in a pillar of cloud to guide them on their way and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light, so that they could travel by day or night.  Neither the pillar of cloud by day nor the pillar of fire by night left its place in front of the people.

Exodus 19:9
The LORD said to Moses, "I am going to come to you in a dense cloud, so that the people will hear me speaking with you and will always put their trust in you." Then Moses told the LORD what the people had said.

1 Kings 8:10-12 (after the ark of the covenant was taken into Solomon’s temple)
 When the priests withdrew from the Holy Place, [a] cloud filled the temple of the LORD. And the priests could not perform their service because of the cloud, for the glory of the LORD filled his temple.
 Then Solomon said, "The LORD has said that he would dwell in a dark cloud; I have indeed built a magnificent temple for you, a place for you to dwell forever."

Psalm 147:8
He covers the sky with clouds; he supplies the earth with rain and makes grass grow on the hills.

Isaiah 44:22
I have swept away your offenses like a cloud, your sins like the morning mist. Return to me, for I have redeemed you."

Matthew 17:5
While he was still speaking, a bright cloud enveloped them, and a voice from the cloud said, "This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased. Listen to him!"

Matthew 26:64
"Yes, it is as you say," Jesus replied. "But I say to all of you: In the future you will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of the Mighty One and coming on the clouds of heaven."

1 Thessalonians 4:17
After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever.

Hebrews 12:1
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.

So often we think of clouds as a negative thing, “It’s such a gray, cloudy, day,” or,   “I feel like I have a huge dark cloud hanging over me.”  I encourage you, the next time you feel like that, remember, God is in the clouds, providing shelter, and shade, and refuge and a hiding place.  And as we all know from flying, just above the clouds, the sun is shining.

 
At the end of the summer, Aaron returned safely home from Jamaica with a gift for us----a print of the church that provided them with a place to stay when they had to evacuate the camp.  The church is aptly named, Grateful Hill Baptist Church.  It hangs in our front hallway, a constant reminder of God’s provision in the midst of a storm.

TILL THE STORM PASSES BY

(Mosie Lister)

In the dark of the midnight have I oft hid my face,

While the storm howls above me, and there's no hiding place.

'Mid the crash of the thunder, Precious Lord, hear my cry,

Keep me safe till the storm passes by.

Chorus

Till the storm passes over, till the thunder sounds no more,

Till the clouds roll forever from the sky;

Hold me fast, let me stand in the hollow of Thy hand,

Keep me safe till the storm passes by.

Many times Satan whispered, "There is no need to try,

For there's no end of sorrow, there's no hope by and by"

But I know Thou art with me, and tomorrow I'll rise

Where the storms never darken the skies.

Chorus

Till the storm passes over, till the thunder sounds no more,

Till the clouds roll forever from the sky;

Hold me fast, let me stand in the hollow of Thy hand,

Keep me safe till the storm passes by.

When the long night has ended and the storms come no more,

Let me stand in Thy presence on the bright peaceful shore;

In that land where the tempest, never comes, Lord, may I

Dwell with Thee when the storm passes by.

Chorus

Till the storm passes over, till the thunder sounds no more,

Till the clouds roll forever from the sky;

Hold me fast, let me stand in the hollow of Thy hand,

Keep me safe till the storm passes by. 

"Just" Waiting

The pastor's sermon on Christmas Day was entitled "Great with child", referencing Luke 2:5 from the KJV, that Joseph went to Bethlehem, "To be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child."  Since Christmas Day was exactly one week before our daughter-in-law's due date, the whole subject really resonated with us.  Although we listened as he spoke of Mary, and how the birth of Jesus took place, we couldn't help but think of Kim.

As the sermon progressed, he talked more about the waiting, the anticipation.  And a quote that jumped out at me was this:  "I'm looking forward to looking back on this."  Now to be honest, in context that line was from a story of someone going through difficult times, and anticipating getting through it, and being able to look back.  But I thought how appropriate it was in light of good times, as well.

Don't get me wrong, we absolutely can't wait for this granddaughter to make her appearance.   I've actually already got my hospital bag packed----I've got snacks to keep the two grandfathers-to-be and the uncle-to-be fed and happy.  Magazines to read.  Camera.  Extra batteries.  Needlework to keep me entertained.  A note attached to remember to add the cell phone charger at the last minute.  I'm keeping clothes clean at all times so I can wear something comfortable to the hospital for the final "waiting" hours.  That sort of stuff.  I want to be ready when we get "the call".

But as much as I can't wait to see this sweet little girl, I don't ever want to forget the waiting, the months leading up to her arrival.  That glorious day when they told us she would be coming----wow, what a beautiful memory.  The next day, talking to Kim's mom once she heard the news, and our excitement as we talked.  The following weeks when we kept the big secret, since no one outside the immediate family knew the news yet.  Being present when one of the great-grandmothers-to-be found out.  The honor of being present for  an ultrasound visit in July, when Aaron was out of town, and the joy that filled the room when the ultrasound tech said, "Your baby looks perfect!"  A few days later when we learned little baby was a girl------we grandmothers tried to get the ultrasound tech to tell us that piece of information, but to no avail!  It was so much fun learning it the way we did, in a restaurant, over lunch, with Cameron listening on speaker phone from camp while the grandparents simultaneously opened gift bags that contained pink (pink!!!!) tiny  hats and socks.  I wouldn't trade those days for anything. 

There were showers to get us through the fall.  Watching the nursery take shape, seeing a crib readied for her arrival, and dresser drawers fill with tiny little outfits was great fun.  To go in the nursery, and see all the preparations, and realize that in a few months----weeks----days----there will be a precious, tiny, beautiful baby girl taking up residence there was almost surreal. 

But the waiting, as hard as it is, because we want to see her and hold her and love her so badly, has been a beautiful time.  I am completely looking forward to her arrival, but I always want to look back with joy and remember these days of waiting.  They've been precious, precious days.  And she's definitely worth the wait!

Home

Found this picture recently-----it may be the only one of this view, taken possibly before we even moved in.

It looked like this for the majority of the time we lived there.

We lived in this house for over 22 years.  Built it----bought it when it was nothing but a foundation, and then rebuilt it almost entirely 6 years later (that's a story for another day).  Brought both of our boys home here when they were born.  Lots of memories.

Adjacent to the neighborhood is a county park, and just on the other side of the park is a public TV broadcasting station, with a very tall tower.  The lights on the tower blink every couple of seconds, and we could see it from some of our windows at night.

When our younger son was about 4, we were out running errands one day, and he looked out the car window and saw the familiar tower.  "I like when I look up and see the tower," he said, "because then I know where home is."

Whoa.  When you look up, do you know where "home" is?

Mary

So Mary has been on the brain lately.  That Mary, the mother of Jesus.  In chapel today there were various pictures of her on the screen, by various artists over the years.  One really struck me, because the woman depicted was really just a girl, as they believe Mary was, maybe just in her mid-teens.  Young.  Really young.  And it's on the brain because it's Christmas, and because my sweet daughter-in-law is about to give birth to our first grandchild.  Lots of reminders of mothers and babies.

Have you ever been around a group of women when they started talking about their childbirth experiences?  It's  uncanny how we remember the details----when labor started, what time we got to the hospital, what phone calls we made, what happened first, and next, and later.  All of it.  And if one woman so much as begins to talk about her experience, all the other mothers have to share theirs.  Have to-----it's like it's on the inside of us, and the story has to come out.  We have to share it.  Every detail we remember.  All of it.  Compare and contrast, share the glorious experience with other women who can understand.

But think of the verse, the one at the end of the story of Jesus' birth, almost an afterthought when we read the Christmas story----

Luke 2:19
But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.

She KEPT these things.  She PONDERED them.  Just think about it-----who would Mary have told about the birth of Jesus?  Who would have believed her?  "Well, last week, Joseph and I went to Bethlehem, you know, for the census, and, well, I went into labor, and we looked and looked and looked for a room, but all we found was a stable that a nice innkeeper let us use.  Long story short, I had my baby, right there in that stable, with cows, and sheep, and chickens right in there with us.  And we named him Jesus, like the angel told Joseph to do.  And speaking of angels, during the night, a bunch of shepherd showed up, saying angels had told them to come see the baby.  Shepherds!!  It was quite a night!"

Seriously, who could Mary have told?  Who would have believed her??  Crazy teen mother, they would have thought.  Married to an older man-----pregnant before she was even married to him.  See, she couldn't talk to anyone.  So she KEPT.  She PONDERED.  Don't you know she spent many hours wondering why God chose her?  Why he sent His son to earth for her and Joseph to raise?  And all the while, she KEPT, she PONDERED.

So this Christmas season, what are you keeping?  What are you pondering?  Are you thinking about why God sent Jesus to earth, to you, to me?  Are you pondering what you should do now that He's here, reminded anew this season of His coming, His birth, and His death?  All for you?  All for us?  For all of us?

"For unto you is born this day, in the city of David, a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord."  Keep that.  Ponder that.  It's what Christmas is all about.

Turtles

In the late summer of 1999, we were in the early stages of having a porch added to the back of our house.  The first step was to dig the footings, and to save money, we did that part ourselves-----24x24x24, with a piece of rebar extending 12” from the bottom of the hole up into the center of the footing, to indicate the depth to which we had to pour cement.  In case you’ve never spent any time digging in the soil in central Virginia, let me tell you----it does not consist of dirt, but of clay----hard, hard, hard clay.  And in August, it’s even worse.

So what did we use?  Shovels.  Post-hole diggers. Hoes.  Child labor.  A 9 year old, and a 15 year old.  It was HARD work, but there was great pride when those holes were complete.  Square corners.  Rebar perfectly centered and straight-----they were beautiful.  When the county inspector arrived, he barely glanced at our work, and didn’t even seem to notice how perfect they were.  I’m not sure where his priorities were.

But what if we hadn’t had tools?  How would we have dug those holes?  Probably like you often do in the sand at the beach----down on your knees, digging with your hands.  It’s slow work, but it can be done.

One evening in the late spring of 2000, we noticed a turtle digging in our back yard.  Having never seen a turtle in that yard in almost 20 years of living there, we found it curious, so we watched for some time. 

Have you ever watched a turtle dig a hole?  We quickly realized this was a mother turtle, digging a nest.  She basically straddled the place she chose, and used her back feet to dig.  Think about that.  Imagine holding the weight of your body----especially if your body was proportionately the size of a turtle’s body----and you’re pregnant------and digging a hole behind you with your feet.  You can’t see what you’re doing.   Not that it mattered, but it was getting darker outside, so she was literally digging blindly in the dark.  But she kept going.  After a while we realized we could see that she was laying her eggs in the hole she had so carefully dug.   She carefully covered over the eggs and the hole, smoothing the area perfectly flat.  And then she left.

And then we waited.  And waited.  And waited.  Longer than our research said we would have to wait.  We waited so long that we gave up, and forgot about those turtle eggs carefully placed in the middle of our back yard.

Until one day, MONTHS later, when we saw…….one baby turtle in the yard ……and then another baby turtle in the yard.  We were so surprised.   That mama  turtle had known exactly what she was doing, and those eggs had hatched exactly like they were supposed to.  Why were we so surprised?

Have you ever felt like you were digging blindly in the dark?  Like you were using your feet to dig when it would have been easier with your hands?  And then wondered if anything good was going to come out of all your effort?  Or maybe you had actually forgotten about the work you did, and figured it was all for nothing anyway, and nothing was going to come of it?

Did you know the Bible talks about digging?

Psalm 7:15 (New International Version)

 ¹⁵ He who digs a hole and scoops it out
       falls into the pit he has made.

Oh, wait a minute, that may not be the most encouraging verse!  Let’s try another one:

Mark 2 (New International Version)

Jesus Heals a Paralytic

 ¹A few days later, when Jesus again entered Capernaum, the people heard that he had come home. ²So many gathered that there was no room left, not even outside the door, and he preached the word to them. ³Some men came, bringing to him a paralytic, carried by four of them. ⁴Since they could not get him to Jesus because of the crowd, they made an opening in the roof above Jesus and, after digging through it, lowered the mat the paralyzed man was lying on. ⁵When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, "Son, your sins are forgiven."

I used this turtle story once with a group of ESL adults, knowing the struggles they deal with trying to learn a very difficult language while managing a job, home, family, children in schools----and a culture they don’t understand.  I could tell you countless stories of people I met who are working MUCH harder than you and I ever will, all the while trying to learn English.  The image of a turtle really resonated with them, because of how slow the learning process was for them----- (And the fact that I had to pantomime the turtle digging probably was interesting to them as well).  But I encouraged them to never give up.  To keep digging.

So what kind of turtle are you?  Are you a mother turtle, struggling to dig?  Or maybe you’re a mother turtle who has completed her difficult task, smoothed it over, and moved on to whatever it is you have to do until the next time?  Or maybe you’re a baby turtle, breaking out of your shell, and climbing through the dirt, only to discover blinding sunlight, and obstacles like grass that you have to learn to overcome. 

 But I think there’s another possibility.  I was going to say, whatever you do, don’t throw your hands up and give up----because for a turtle, that’s not a good thing.  But then-----a belly-up turtle is like the paralytic man.  Flat on his back, unable to walk, maybe only able to throw his hands up in the air---but his friends picked him up, bed and all, and took him to Jesus. 

It's not always what it looks like

Remember the “Magic Eye” posters from a few years back?  It appeared to just be a mass of multi-colored dots, but after you stared (and stared, and stared) at it without blinking, another image would appear, hidden in the dots.  The first time I saw one of these, the people around me, one by one, were  calling out, “I see it!” while I kept staring, wondering what they could possibly be seeing except a mass of dots?  I wanted to give up, but eventually the secondary image came into view.

For a long time, I’ve had a theory about what we see.  There is no way to know that what I see and call “blue” is the same thing that you see and call “blue.”  What you call “blue” might be what I call “yellow.”   Now any scientists among you might disagree and start explaining colors in terms of light waves, etc., but I’m ignoring them.

When Cameron was in second grade, he drew a picture of our house.  Now you should know that our house was painted what I call “khaki tan.”  When he brought the picture home, being the kind, encouraging, and affirmative parent that I am, I looked at it and immediately asked, “Why did you color our house PINK?”  His answer?  “Because I didn’t have a gray crayon.”  Hmm.

Very soon after that, I made an appointment for him with the eye doctor, who confirmed that Cameron is color-blind.  [I remember (again, in one of my finer parenting moments), fussing at him before we left home for the appointment because his shirt and pants didn’t go together----nice, huh?]  The doctor was much more compassionate, and had a long chat with Cameron about being aware of his limitations, what to think about when he was choosing careers, etc.----he probably shouldn’t be an electrician (Is this the red wire? Or the green?)   Firemen have to pay close attention to dials and lights----a mistake could be critical.  And the eye doctor tried to explain to me that red/green color-blindness doesn’t just mean it affects red and green, but any color that contains red or green, so purple, olive, pink, maroon, mauve, teal----Cameron sees them all differently than I do.

I’ll never forget the day he described something as being “green like peanut butter.”  (I wasn’t sure I’d ever eat peanut butter again.)

We learned rather quickly that it was important to let teachers know about his ‘disability’----In History class, “Name the capital of the country marked in red” could present a real problem.   In Algebra, it was “which line has the steeper slope, the pink or the brown?”  In Chemistry, “how much time elapsed before the concentration changed from red to green?”  (He had to choose lab partners carefully!) 

His high school's colors were green and purple----he joked that he could wear all the same spirit clothes to college, since UR’s red and blue looked the same to him as the green and purple.

God gave Cameron a GREAT sense of humor, and he is able to laugh at his ‘mistakes.’  As he got older, he would conveniently forget to remind the nurse at the pediatrician’s office that he was colorblind, just so he could enjoy her reaction as he ‘failed’ that part of his physical.  He gets a kick out of the response when people hear he’s colorblind.  He says the first question friends always ask is, “How can you drive?  You can’t see the traffic lights?!?!?!”   But even when he was first diagnosed as being color-blind, the eye doctor noted that he was already compensating, because as a 7-year-old he knew that the green light was the one on the bottom. (I can’t even tell you that without really thinking about it.)

Recently Cameron found information on the web describing new glasses for color-blind people that enhance colors so that they can be differentiated.  One downside is that you have to ‘relearn’ your colors, and rely on someone else to tell you “that is red, that is blue, that is green”.  As we joked about who in the family he’d trust with that task, he said, “I'm not sure if that or the $700 price tag is the bigger drawback!  It would be fun to try out once, but I think it’s more fun to just live without.”  Yes, his choice of words was FUN.  He’s learned that being different is OK.

Experiencing sight thru Cameron’s eyes has taught me several things----what I think I see isn’t necessarily the same as what you see, it’s fine to ask for help, and we’ve all got “issues.”  And that’s OK!  Maybe sometimes I need to try to see things thru your eyes to gain your perspective, because what you call blue, I call yellow!  And maybe sometimes you need to see things through my eyes.  I don’t ask you to do things a certain way JUST to make your life difficult, and I’m guessing you aren’t trying to make mine difficult, either.  We can work together, we can laugh together, and we can all grow together.  So what if my yellow and your yellow aren’t exactly the same?  As long as we’re both calling them ‘yellow’, does it really matter?

2 Corinthians 4:18
So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.