"Stop! Go! Stop! Go!"

The daddy with the small boy perched on his shoulders was completely in tune to his son’s whims. Standing still on the escalator as it moved through the airport concourse, the man moved only when his son commanded, “Go, Daddy!” And then a few seconds later at the sound of yet another command -- “Stop, Daddy!” -- Daddy would stop. And this cycle of commands continued until they reached the end of the moving sidewalk.

I wanted to take their picture, but decided that was too stalker-like; instead, I said to the man, “That’s one of the sweetest things I’ve ever seen.” He looked surprised that I had been watching, yet pleased and proud to be carrying his son. Maybe two years old, the tiny boy was happy that his daddy was doing what he asked him to do as soon as he asked him to do it, and his delight showed on his beaming face. The one time Daddy hadn’t responded immediately, the child had yanked his daddy’s graying crew-cut hair and yelled louder, “Go, Daddy. Go right now!” He probably thought his daddy hadn’t heard him since he didn’t react right away.

“Stop! Go! Stop! Go!” Orders were given and obeyed, and the pair moved forward together on the moving walkway.

And then I had one of the moments. You know the kind when God stops you in the midst of your day and speaks through the picture before you? “Stop,” God says. “Who do you see?” And then I saw. Myself. Happy to be walking with God. But really thrilled when He obeyed my commands: “Go, God!” and “Stop, God!” And then when I don’t think my heavenly Father hears me, I cry a little louder: “Stop, God. Stop right now!”

Sometimes God stops when I ask; sometimes He doesn’t. Sometimes God goes when I ask; sometimes He doesn’t. Sometimes I understand; sometimes I don’t. Yet the escalator in God’s world keeps moving from the beginning to the end. And when I’m holding on, God and I are moving together. 

Harassed!

Over and over and over again, the same man calls our house phone, wanting us to buy a service that he says we need. In fact, he says we’re in danger if we don’t buy it, and that’s why we need to fork over our credit card information so he can take care of our problem.  

But he won’t say who he is, where he’s from, his supervisor, the name of the company he represents, or his business address or website; instead, when I ask him for that information so I can check him out, he mumbles a few words I can’t understand and then he hangs up, only to call back the next day, which he’s done for over a month.

Tenacious. Irritating. Harassing. He’s called so many times that I recognize it's him before he ever says a word!

I’m having some fun with him now. Every time he calls, I have a longer list of questions to ask him, so he’s hanging up faster than he did before. Sometimes I don’t even get to the end of my list.

Today he asked me why I needed to know these things and why I wouldn’t believe him, but then he hung up before I could answer.

I wish he’d stop harassing me, but in the meantime, I refuse to believe his lies and I don’t give him what he wants.

Sounds like a reason to believe Ephesians 6, if you get my drift.

“Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power.

Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes.

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.

 Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.

Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace.

 In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one.

Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests.

With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people.

Ephesians 6:10-18 (NIV)

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A Delay in a Day

Daddy Bill timed the red lights so that he never had to stop his car. He knew the roads, the intersections, the twists and turns. And he also knew how fast to drive so that the lights were always green.

But my step-father didn’t know what was around that next bend -- the wrecks or the construction or the pedestrians – the unforseens that would cause a kink in his perfect plan.

There was a wreck on the Katy Freeway today that stopped us on our journey to Houston, an inconvenience for travelers on a day’s mission of errands, appointments, shopping, visiting, and baby showers, but a life-changing collision for the men, women, boys, girls, and babies who were involved.

For one group, the wreck was a kink, a pause, a delay in the day; for the other, the collision was life-shattering.

And for me, it was a reminder that the delay in my day can give pause to so much more than an irritation.

A pause to pray for those involved, people I never prayed for before and people who will never know that I prayed for them; not on this earth, anway.

A pause to acknowledge God’s omniscience; that in the twists and turns of each day, He’s the only one who knows what’s around that next bend.

A pause to acknowledge the gift of each moment of life on this earth.

And a pause to be reminded that a road block in my day can be a tragedy in someone else's life.

Daddy Bill’s been with Jesus for ten years now, but he left behind several Daddy Bill sayings. “Eat it up, wear it out, make it do” is one that comes to mind. But I think about him a lot whenever I drive in Houston and breezily pass through a series of green lights. He always timed them as perfectly as anyone could. But when God’s perfect time came to bring Daddy Bill home to be with Jesus, my step-father went peacefully, knowing where he was going and knowing it was going to be green lights forever. And that, too, is a legacy he left behind.

“The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you;

he will never leave you nor forsake you.

Do not be afraid;

do not be discouraged”

 (Deuteronomy 31:8).

Too Special to Lose

Sorting through the mass of memories, room by room. That’s how I began to declutter our home. One of the first chores I assigned myself after I retired from teaching school, it’s been a circular task.

I’ve gone through the house once, and now I’m going through it again. Room by room.

The utility area is where I first began because it also serves as a hallway between the original part of our 1907 house and the addition. The pantry full of food is there, the cupboard of dishes, the washer and dryer. And baskets of lightbulbs, batteries, flashlights, and an eclectic assortment of tape, Scotch and masking and packing and gray Duck.

Basket by basket, I emptied and sorted and threw away. My husband wasn’t home, which is why I was able to throw away some of the clutter. Ian doesn’t do throw-away. Not happily, anyway.

I was having the grandest of times, tossing and sorting and organizing. A new beginning!

And then I found it.

A joyful, yes joyful, discovery!

A very special object we had deemed lost forever, Ian’s wedding ring.

In the bottom of the white straw basket that rested on top of the pine cabinet of glassware, the ring -- lost for years -- now rolled across the pantry floor. Ian must have reached into the basket to grab a lightbulb and the ring dropped off his finger. He had combed the grass outside our house with the metal detector searching for it, but we didn’t think to search the straw baskets inside the pantry.

I shrieked and cried and called Ian, who came home in less than five minutes (life in our small town has its perks!) and now he wears them both, the original and the replacement.

Memories are like that.

We lose them, even the special ones.

We drop them, even though we don’t mean to.

We forget about them, even though we try hard to hold onto them.

And we replace them, but they’re not the same.

And then, quite unexpectedly, they can reappear!

And when they do, we appreciate them even more.

Yet another reason to write down the moments that become the memories. Some things are just too special to lose.