To Write and Remember

“Write about it!” That’s my answer to many remarks made in my high school classes.

 “I’m having the worst day ever, Mrs. Bader.”  

“Write about it!” I respond.

“I don’t want to write about it, Mrs. Bader.”

“Write about the fact that you don’t want to write about it!” I respond once more.

At this point in the school year, some of my students will even make the predictable response before I do!

It’s no secret how I feel about writing. I love it! I love it! I love it! Repetition in writing is for emphasis, and the emphasis is needed for writing excites me and thrills me. I love it, I enjoy it, and I want to write – all the time. Just the other day, one of my friends commented to another: “Watch out! She’ll write about that!”  And I did!

In the morning, I look forward to waking up (sometimes at 4:00 AM) just so I can write. I look forward to watching my thoughts form words that I can’t always say, and I look forward to pouring out my prayers to God in writing, too. I love to write!

Do you remember the Mary Poppins song – “I love to laugh!”? That’s how I feel about writing.  “The more I (write), the more I fill with glee and the more the glee, the more the merrier me!” Over the years, I’ve discovered many reasons to write, but for me, enjoyment is one of the most important.

And another is to keep those memories intact – whole, undamaged, unbroken, and real. Not to worry later if something really happened or if I remembered it correctly or if I exaggerated it. And also to avoid rationalizing God’s active involvement in my life, crediting what happened to luck or a coincidence. Not to reduce his mighty work to a dim shadow instead of the vibrant reality of the Almighty Creator! Writing those memories allows me to savor that gift. To remember how He’s always been present in my life.   

The psalmist writes in Psalm 77:11-12, “I will remember the deeds of the LORD: yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago. I will meditate on all your works and consider all your mighty deeds.” And he also reminds us to “remember the wonders He has done” in Psalm 105:5. Writing helps us remember those “mighty deeds” and “wonders,” not wonder if they might not have happened. And when our faith needs strengthening, we have cherished memories to encourage us. The reality of God is our everyday lives. Memories to remember for a lifetime.  

And maybe not just for our lifetime as writing also “tell(s) the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the LORD, His power, and the wonders He has done” (Psalm 78:4).

In Malachi 3:16, “then those who feared the LORD talked with each other, and the LORD listened and heard. A scroll of remembrance was written in His presence concerning those who feared the LORD and honored His name.” As we leave behind this earth, our legacy – our scroll of remembrance of fearing and honoring and loving the LORD – is passed from one generation to another as we tell of his “wonderful deeds” (Psalm 75:1). Our writing – our scroll of remembrance – becomes our own Book of Psalms where we pour out our hearts to God. What breaks our hearts -- lost love and confused feelings and painful cries -- as well as what fills our hearts -- second chances and exciting opportunities and answered prayers. All passed on to those we leave behind.

Maybe the best things we do in life are those things we’ll never know about it.  

In the meantime, I write and I remember and I’m grateful.

I Remember

My husband asked me  how I could remember where the Easy Off Oven Cleaner was , even though I haven’t used it since we moved in this house twenty-eight years ago, but I couldn’t remember where something was that he just gave me. I don’t know. I just don’t remember. I don’t remember many things and am notorious for walking around school with sticky note reminders stuck to my clothes.  Once I even dressed for work and when I went to tell Ian goodbye, his comment was, “Are you going to school like that?” A glance in the mirror reminded me that I hadn’t remembered to put on a shirt! A skirt and a jacket were great, but a shirt was definitely needed!

Yesterday was Thanksgiving, and I began thinking back to all the Thanksgivings before this one. I remember going to Tyler almost every year for Thanksgiving at my grandmother's house, but I don’t remember each specific one. I do remember the year she put the paper plates in the dishwasher. And I remember telling my husband the year after we married that her dressing was the best in the world; yet when we got there, she was using Stove Top stuffing and the turkey was hanging out of the pot. And I vividly remember the look on Ian’s face!

But I don’t remember too many of them individually; each memory is woven into the whole. I don’t want that to happen again. I want to remember the specifics that made this Thanksgiving so special. The simple gift of today.

In Creative Writing class, I teach my kids to start writing “I remember ______,” filling in the blank with whatever they remember – over and over and over again. It’s a way to help writer’s block, but it’s also a way to remember things they might have forgotten. So today, I wrote my own list of “I remember” and here are a few in no particular order other than the way they came to mind.

I remember how thankful I felt when my oldest son, Reid, walked into the kitchen.

I remember how grateful I was that my husband not only made the turkey and dressing, but also helped clean the kitchen after everyone left.

I remember feeling contented as I watched my husband and son and the rest of our family and friends enjoy their dinner and then I remember thinking the three days of cooking had been worth it!

I remember playing “Catch Phrase” around the dining room table and laughing at my 92-year-old mother who refused to stop when her turn ended.

I remember Ian thanking me after everyone had left.

I remember the mischievous, yet affectionate look on Reid’s face when he was teasing his grandmother. 

I remember my sister Janie’s delicious desserts, especially the chocolate pecan pie and the pumpkin cheesecake with praline crust.

I remember my beautiful niece Mollie setting the table and filling the glasses with ice and her boyfriend, Simon, helping her.

I remember my sister commenting that it was good we had a lot of beds because people were napping everywhere -- Simon in the dessert room, Dennis in the TV room, Andre in the living room….

I remember football on TV in the back room and Nana and Elsie on the back porch in the rockers.

I remember going upstairs and looking at Melissa’s Vera Bradley wish list on the computer with Mollie sitting on the floor and Janie and Brent in the doorway. I remember Brent checking out Will’s Christmas cowboy boots and asking if Will had ever wanted anything like that before.

I remember the rest of the Thanksgiving feast – Mary Anne’s green beans and Kathy’s colorful fruit salad and Janie’s Orange Almond Salad & bright red cranberry salad – and the variety of potatoes – mashed and sweet and hash brown. Plus the macaroni and cheese and butter & bacon corn and orange-glazed carrots and honey spiral ham and hot rolls and brown gravy….

I remember Ian’s beautiful prayer before our meal and the way we all held hands and how Ian’s hands would swing ever so slightly as he prayed. And then I remembered how Daddy Bill used to pray before our meals and how my Daddy also prayed before he died and how grateful I am for the praying men in my family.

I remember my nephew Tyler wore the same red flannel holiday shirt as Simon.

I remember cleaning the kitchen with my nephew Brent and splattering (accidentally!) my sister’s gorgeous purple silk blouse with turkey grease.

I remember missing my dog who was visiting the doggie bed-and-breakfast (the vet) for a few days.

I remember Ian’s niece Catherine, who is a nurse, and how her face lit up when she talked about how she loved the babies she cared for and how her friend David thanked me before they left to go home. 

I remember Ian’s mom telling me she was thankful we made the dinner every year.

I remember thinking all day long about our youngest son, Will, and his sweet wife, Melissa, who couldn’t be with us, but who were still with us nevertheless.

I remember my mom getting word that one of her best friends of 60 years – and the mother of one of my dearest friends – had gone to be with the Lord that day.  I remember being grateful that she hadn’t suffered even though she would be missed greatly. I remember thinking back to the last time I saw her -- which was at a party celebrating the coming marriage of her granddaughter -- and how happy she was that night. And I remember being grateful for having known her and grateful that she had been such a good friend to my mom just as her daughter is such a good friend to me. 

And I remember curling up in Ian’s La-Z-Boy recliner after everyone left  and the two of us turning on the Netflix to watch a movie and almost immediately going to sleep. Contented. Happy. Grateful. Extremely tired. But very thankful.

Well, maybe that was more than a few!

Being thankful is a repeated motif in the Bible, a theme reminding us that the gift of life is worth remembering.

This is one Thanksgiving I won't forget. Another gift for which I am thankful.  Another day for which I am grateful. A gift worth remembering. 

"This is the day the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it" (Psalm 118:24 NIV).
 

That Little Red-Brick Church

The small red-brick Baptist church where I spent my childhood was filled with lovely people who loved the Lord. Revival was an annual occurrence and Billy Graham’s conferences in Houston’s Astrodome were an exciting adventure requiring chartered busses and untold amounts of my mother’s yummy tuna-fish sandwiches.

I’ll always remain attached to the special little church where I spent many happy years memorizing Scripture, singing in the youth choir and learning about the Lord. And I’ll always be grateful for the people who taught me to "love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind” (Luke 10:27). Small in size, yet large in love for God, the church was a place where we were trained in the way we should go, so when we grew old, we wouldn’t “depart from it”(Proverbs 22:6).

Passing the half-century mark quite a few years ago, I don’t consider myself old; but I am five years older than my dad was when he died. So every day I live on this earth I’m more grateful than I was the day before. And many of the reasons why I am are because of what I learned in that little red-brick church where I was taught who God was and what he had done for me.

I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!

Sliding down a snow-covered mountain face-first on those big black inner tubes was a highlight on our family’s Seattle vacation. After visiting the quaint town where Northern Exposure was filmed, we stopped sightseeing to see if tubing was as much fun as we thought it would be. And it was! After a thrilling ride down the mountain, we’d grab this rope-pulley contraption which pulled us back to the top of the mountain, where we’d slide down once more. Over and over and over again. 

Having too much fun to stop, we kept tubing even when our strength was zapped and our arms were weak, making it difficult to hold on to the rope. Eventually, the inevitable happened, and Ian’s arms gave out and he let go. Since he was almost to the top, the people hanging on behind him were in trouble, desperately trying to avoid being hit by Ian – a rather large guy – who first bounced into one, then the other, before eventually knocking people all over the place on his out-of-control trip down the mountain.

And he hit them all, causing them, in turn, to let go of the rope and hit other people on their own out-of-control trip down the mountain. The cacophony of screaming and yelling was frightening as men, women, and children on run-away tubes flew all over that mountain.  When Ian finally made it to the bottom, the last person he hit and sent into a nasty, muddy, slushy low spot was our son Will, who has not forgotten one minute of it.

Ever the gentleman, Ian was calling -- I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” – all the way down the mountain.

In the Bible, when King David sinned, he knocked people all over the place, yet there was one time -- with Bathsheba -- when he wasn’t apologizing. Figuratively, he’d hit one person, then another, then another. And all the people he hit would hit someone else. Bathsheba. Her husband and her father. David’s soldiers and their families and their children. David knocked people all over the mountain, but we don’t hear him crying, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry” on his way down. Only when he finally reaches the very bottom does he admit he’s at fault and asks forgiveness. 

But once he did, he didn’t make excuses. He didn’t pull an Adam and blame “that woman” nor did he blame God for making him king in the first place; he simply asked forgiveness, facing God with the truth of what he had done. Finally. “I’m so sorry.”

And God, in his loving-kindness, has a remedy for David, and that remedy is to grant the forgiveness David so desperately needs. God is serious about forgiveness. 

My sweet friend Paula McNeely told me about a lady in her jewelry business who begins her quiet time with the following prayer:  “Lord, change my mind over anything in which I don’t agree with you.” David acknowledged his sin and asked God to change him. And God did, creating in David a clean heart.

Scripture tells us to forgive those who wrong us; but the Bible stories also show us what to do when we’re the ones wronging others. David’s story is one of them. “Lord, I’m so sorry. I am the man. It was me.” 

Most assuredly, it’s easier to ask forgiveness from our friends and family after we’ve first received forgiveness from God.

In the book Shame and Grace, author Lewis Smedes titled a chapter, "Singing Amazing Grace Without Feeling like a Wretch!" I think David aced that one for God’s grace came graciously to him and when God gives grace, wretchedness gives way to gratefulness, forgiveness, and relief.  Forgiveness is lighten up – God style! And David did lighten up and began to live his life once more even with the devastating consequences that inevitably followed.

In Psalm 51, David prays, “Have mercy upon me, O God, according to thy loving-kindness.” God is a kindly giver of love and of forgiveness. And David, regardless of his sin and its aftermath, knew he was “blessed” for God forgave his sins (Psalm 32:1).

And since God is an unchanging God, David’s story reminds us that when we, too, make mistakes, God desires to see us change in the best way possible, the change to become more like Jesus, which many times begins with the words, “I’m so sorry.” 

*An excerpt from Ch. 16 - "Bathsheba: Scent of a Woman" - from Like a Sweet Fragrance

Surprise! Surprise! Surprise!

Today is my brother’s birthday!

I’m going to have to say that again because I love the way it sounds. Today is my brother’s birthday!

His birthday is special to me for the obvious reason – he’s my brother; but since I didn’t meet him until he was 34 years old and I was 38, his birthday is extra special to me. Even if it’s just a phone call to wish him a great day, I love being part of his birthday. When I met Anthony, the first birthday gift I gave him was a stack of cards for every birthday I had missed.

Today is my brother’s birthday. Sorry, I just had to say it again!

When my brother’s family visits from Maryland, they want a stereotypical Texas experience. They like to fish, ride horses, shoot skeet, and eat belly-up-to-the-barbecue in Kenney, Texas. And we do it all. For weeks before they come, my husband and I plan and prepare to make their visit perfect; but sometimes, the unexpected happens.

Last summer we stayed at a beautifully-decorated ranch in Industry, Texas with luxurious furnishings and all the conveniences of the rich and famous. Everything, I thought, was perfect. What could possibly go wrong at a ranch like this?

We soon found out that very first night when something crawled across my brother’s arm while he was sleeping in his luxurious bed in the luxurious master bedroom of this luxurious ranch.

Waking up and flinging back the covers, he unfortunately and quite surprisingly discovered gobs and gobs of goo in the bed. Under the sheets. Under the blankets. All over the place where they had been sleeping. So much for luxury. Dropping down on all fours, he looked under the bed to check for the mouse who had so obviously shared the bed with them.

This is a Texas ranch. What do you think he found under the bed instead of a mouse? Yes, there was the stereotypical gun. And to his amazement – remember, he’s not a country boy – he discovered the shotgun was loaded. That he didn’t expect.  I think if he would have seen a mouse, he might have blown it to smithereens!

Mice and possums and countless other critters tend to show up when we wished they wouldn’t, especially in the country, so by the time the fat rat snake snuck in our midst, we were not as surprised - even when it curled itself around the carrots my niece was feeding the horses. And later that evening when another unwelcome guest joined our family reunion, snaking up the oak tree where my five-year-old nephew had recently been playing, we took it all in stride.

What my relatives never saw was the long water moccasin slinking around the house the next morning. My husband and I thought they could take so much!

Welcome to Texas! As Gomer Pyle would say, “Surprise! Surprise! Surprise!”

Now I didn’t expect any of that. I didn’t prepare or plan for any of that.  And regardless of how hard I had worked, there was nothing I could have done to prevent any of it. And that’s the point. We’ve got to expect the unexpected in life.

The rats and snakes were unpleasant surprises; my brother was a wonderful surprise. What both have in common, however, is surprise. “Surprise! Surprise! Surprise!”

The Bible, too, is filled with surprises. Men and women surprised by unexpected visits from angels, donkeys surprised by their unexpected ability to talk, armies surprised by unexpected defeat, a prophet surprised by dry bones unexpectedly walking, a persecutor surprised by the unexpected glory of God, and sisters surprised by their brother’s unexpected resurrection. And then there were shepherds surprised by an unexpected star announcing the anticipated birth of the Savior of the World, who constantly surprised those around Him with his unexpected way of living. The people in the Old and the New Testament of the Bible were constantly surprised by God.  

And God still surprises. Have you ever gone to the Bible for a little relief, but been surprised by so much more?

Psalm 119 reminds us that regardless of the unexpected surprises in our lives, God is true and trustworthy, and His Word is full of  “wonderful things” to help us and guide us each day. We’ll find commands which make us wise and give us insight and understanding. We’ll be thrilled when we least expect it and strengthened to handle the unexpected, sometimes unpleasant surprises life brings. And He’ll constantly delight us with much more than we can imagine. God still surprises. Our lives are full of unexpected surprises from God.

My brother was a wonderful surprise!

And by the way, did I tell you today was his birthday?

Happy Birthday, Anthony Robbins! I love ya like crazy!