Albuquerque Recap Video

Major Dad

Hey, Precious Ones. It feels like I've been out of the loop and almost on another planet for weeks. I am so grateful to Amanda for keeping you posted on all that has transpired around here recently. I have been astonished by so many shows of sympathy and affection in the homegoing of my Dad, the Major. You would think that we would have known that it probably wouldn't be long until Dad passed away since he was 86 years old. (I have a large family and I fall toward the end of the birth order which helps to explain why my parents were ten years older than Keith's.) It's just that Dad was so dang active. So hard to pin down. Impossible to keep off the highway. (He drove amazingly well for a person who insisted on using both feet, one on the accelerator and one on the brake. Let's just say there was a fair amount of whiplash to be had when you took a spin with him. You didn't nap much with Dad at the wheel.) He and his beloved wife (my step-mom), Maddy, had just driven to Pasadena, Texas for fried catfish the day before. Their Scrabble board was still out in the breakfast room with all the words on it. (Reader that I am, I had to stare at the words and see if I could discern any kind of deep message in them. I couldn't.) We went through such a long and arduous journey toward my mom's death nine years ago. Something of our family slowly died with her, one difficult day at a time. That was our only experience with death in our immediate family, I'm thankful to say, so I think we were expecting something like that. That's not what happened.

Last Friday morning, I was getting ready for the day. Amanda, Curt, and Jackson were in town and I was going to get to take Jacks to lunch at Living Proof with my staff while AJ and Curt grabbed lunch with some of their best buddies. I was looking so forward to it. Then I got a call from Maddy. "Beth, Honey." (Always calls me those two words.) "Your Daddy is really sick. I wonder if you'd help me figure out what I should do." She told me his symptoms and, honestly, I thought an old ulcer that had left a lot of scar tissue had acted up again. We decided she should call 911 then I soon headed out the door to drive across town to the hospital where we anticipated they'd take him. I called most of my brothers and sisters (who live all over the country) and told them what had happened but that I didn't expect it to be life threatening. Boy, was I wrong.

I reached the hospital soon after Maddy arrived. She and I were tightly huddled in the waiting room when a young physician came out and told us that a helicopter was on it's way to get him. That he needed to be at the Texas Medical Center so they could open his skull. He was bleeding pretty profusely in the brain and they needed to relieve the pressure. We were floored but prepared to head wherever they told us to go. The fewest moments later, the same doctor came back out and told us that the bleeding had been too severe and that it was too late for surgery. In the same breath, he took me to the side and said that Dad would never wake up. He explained that his life was ending and asked if we knew any instructions Dad had concerning life support. I could not believe my ears. It all happened so fast my brain couldn't catch up. Thankfully, Dad had been hauntingly clear about not wanting to be kept alive on any kind of machines and had placed it in writing. At the same time, I'm not sure I've ever been through many things more immediately traumatizing than holding his warm but lifeless hand while they removed that breathing tube. I could sob about it even now.

A few minutes later, my man arrived. Moments after that, one of my sisters. She proved utterly indispensable through the ordeal and I'm not sure I've ever loved her more. Dad was moved to a room and his blood pressure, breathing, and heart rate remained stable and strong for the next hours. (Actually, they continued that way until they simply and suddenly ceased.) I tried so hard to get Maddy to let me spend the night with Dad so she could go home but she wouldn't budge. Nor would I if it were, God forbid, my life partner. My sister insisted since Amanda, Curt, and Jackson were at my house that I go home while she took the night shift and I could take the day shift. I crawled in my bed and tried my hardest to rest but couldn't. Not many hours later, I wrote my family a note, got back in the car while it was still night, and headed forty minutes back across town to the hospital. Dad's breathing was very labored but the nurses said he could go on like that even for days. I looked at the tiny little woman he loved so much and could hardly stand the thought of her enduring a long ordeal. After all, she knew her man was gone and would never be back. I asked my sister and Maddy if they wanted to join me around Dad's bed and ask God to receive His faithful servant speedily, hastening his reward. Neither hesitated. So with tears and firm conviction, three women who loved the same old man in such different - and complicated - ways got on our knees around the three corners of that bed, draped our hands across his feet and asked God to make a merciful visitation to that room at the earliest point His perfect will would allow.

My beloved Jackson had been so upset the night before because he sensed something amiss with the family. The little guy had wanted me to hold him in the waiting room but I had my hands so full with Dad that I couldn't tend to him. With Maddy and Gay's insistence, I decided to run back to my side of town early that morning so that I could be there when Jacks awakened, hold him tight, and give him his morning bottle. I'd then head straight back up to the hospital. I never got that chance. God answered the prayers of those three women on their knees around that hospital bed before we knew what hit us. God was so gracious to allow my sister to be right there with our Dad when he was ushered from that cold, sterile hospital room into the warmth of the glorious Sun of Righteousness. Although I wish I had been there, too, I am so touched by Christ's healing agenda in the way He ordained those circumstances that I can do little more than bow to His wise and graceful plan.

Within an hour, my sister, Gay, and I were with Maddy at the sweet house she shared with my Dad. All three of us were in a state of shock and suddenly in the throes of making countless decisions. Someone needed to make a move and I decided it better be me. Gay hadn't had a wink of sleep and my step mother was stunned. "Maddy, I know this is so hard right now but I need to get into Dad's files and get out his burial policy. Could you please show me where I should start looking?" She got me by the hand, walked me in their little home office, and opened a drawer full of well organized files. A few moments later I pulled out a brown folder clearly labeled "Burial." Not only was his policy right there for easy access, he'd written fourteen implicit instructions for his funeral. (Yes, they were numbered. I have nearly all of them memorized in order at this point.) Some of them were so "him" - so completely HIM - like how to cut corners on the spending (Lord have mercy, he was cheap) that Gay and I lapsed into a pool of hysteria. We laughed until we cried and the writer of Proverbs was right. It was good medicine. Soon, all of my brothers and sisters, all the grandkids, nephews, and nieces, converged on Houston, Texas. And every time they asked me a question about "how" we should do "what," I got to say, "Number 6 - or number 9, or number 12 out of 14 - states clearly that..."

Major Dad was gone. But his list was still with us. Number 14 provided the perfect wrap up: "It is my hope there will be more laughter than tears." How perfect that God would use the man himself to provide so much of it. With great affection and respect, I'd like to suggest that my Dad was never funnier than when he didn't mean to be. Ask any of us. He was a handful.

My Dad poured out the last many years of his life to feed the homeless. He was a constant fixture at the area grocery stores where he gathered day-old perishables to take to shelters. I have no idea how many day-old pastries all of us who loved him have eaten with him. Mary, Dad's pastor's secretary, told me that Dad was personally responsible for the ten extra pounds on her hips. You see, as if the donuts were not fattening enough, since they tended to be a bit stale, the staff would cut them in half, toast them and butter them in order to make them taste good enough to eat.

Though I trust God has a provision, I don't know exactly what those homeless shelters will do without Major Dad. I'm not sure you can get that level of dedication and service out of a person who hasn't served in a couple of wars and who never learned the word "quit." He'd taken a bullet in the face, for crying out loud. Nobody but nobody was going to get between him and Kroger day-olds. If Dad could have his last wish, nobody would ever be homeless. Nobody would ever go hungry. Major Albert B. Green is Home now. Home in a zip code anybody can share. "On this mountain the Lord Almighty will prepare a feast of rich food for all peoples, a banquet of aged wine - the best of meats and the finest of wines. On this mountain He will destroy the shroud that enfolds all people, the sheet that covers all nations; He will swallow up death forever. The Sovereign Lord will wipe away the tears from all faces; He will remove the disgrace of His people from all the earth. The Lord has spoken." (Isaiah 25:6-8)

LPL Albuquerque

Congrats!

Our beloved Travis Cottrell won a Dove Award last night for his musical Everything Glorious. Congratulations, Travis! We're all so proud of you! We're also very proud that a country boy from North Carolina rose to the challenge of presenting a Spanish language award. You are indeed multi-talented!

Praise Report

God is good, ladies. Let me tell you a few of the wonderful things the Lord did for our family over the last few days.

Exhibit A: Every single one of my mom's brothers and sisters was able to be in Houston for the funeral and all of my cousins were there except for one. It had been 9 years since we were all together and you can imagine how wonderful the reunion was. Family members from Tennessee, Georgia, Ohio, Nevada, Arkansas, and California were able to join us. My sister, who is in the middle of writing her final papers for her Master's degree, was able to come for 24 hours. It was such a joy and an answer to prayer.

Exhibit B: My grandfather was a retired Army major and was buried in the veterans section of the cemetery. During the planning, it looked like certain elements of a military burial were not going to work out, but God provided every single thing we hoped for. Each part was incredibly moving - from when the color guard saluted the flag-draped casket when it arrived by car to the cemetery, all the way up to the moment the folded flag was handed to Madelyn and she was thanked for her loved one's service.

Exhibit C: The funeral service was a perfect mix of laughter, tears, spiritual emphasis, and sharing the personal side of who my grandpa was. My Uncle Wayne, who is a virtuoso pianist, played "I Come to the Garden Alone." It was so meaningful for all of us. We were also very moved by how many people came to show their love for Daddaw and Madelyn.

Exhibit D: My mom was supposed to be in the Dallas area on Tuesday for a taping at Life Today. When Tuesday ended up being the day of the funeral, she thought she was going to have to cancel. Praise God, we were wrong about the date and the taping was actually on Wednesday! She has been at the studio today taping an interview with James and Betty Robison about Get Out of That Pit. She had a lot of trouble getting out of Houston because of the weather, but God opened up the sky for her plane.

Exhibit E: My Aunt Sassy (again with the nicknames!) brought me a picture of Daddaw with Thumper! We're working on getting it scanned so that I can post it on the blog.

Exhibit F: I saved one of the best ones for last. When Madelyn was going through my grandpa's desk drawer, she found a love note from my grandpa that she had never seen before. He had written it for her to see upon his death and it included a poem describing how she had been the love of his life. Could they have been any sweeter or any more in love? Wow.

There are many more things I could have listed. I believe we got an extra helping of God's comfort and kindness because of your prayers. Thank you so much.

What I'd like to hear from you is one way that God has blatantly answered your prayers this week. If we can keep them relatively concise it will help me keep up with moderating the comments. Y'all are so awesome! I can't wait to hear them!

A Homegoing

With a tender heart I sit here thinking of a way to write this next sentence. The Lord welcomed home one of His good and faithful servants today - my grandfather and my mom's father, Al Green. He suffered a massive stroke yesterday and died peacefully this morning with his precious bride and my aunt Gay by his side. Family members from all over the country are making their way home to say goodbye. Please pray for us as we spend the next few days together to cry, to say goodbye, and also to celebrate a life very well lived. Please especially remember his wonderful wife Madelyn in your prayers. They have spent the last eight years together fiercely in love and having great adventures.

Curtis asked me about some of my favorite memories of my grandpa and I'd like to share my answers with you. I'll just go ahead and tell you right now that I call him Daddaw. I know it's weird, but it was my first word. Okay, now I can get started. When I was a little girl, Nanny and Daddaw had a big backyard with a huge vegetable and flower garden. Somehow Daddaw managed to build a relationship with a swamp rabbit who regularly visited their garden to nibble on Nanny's plants. He would go on the back porch and whistle and call out, "Thumper!" Sure enough that big ole bunny would come bouncing into the back yard. He would even let Daddaw hold him and feed him carrots. As an animal lover, watching that happen was one of the thrills of my childhood.

My very favorite memory was from the time Daddaw let me tag along with him to a soup kitchen. My dad had killed an elk that year and our freezer was full of more meat than we could ever eat. We loaded the meat into the car and took it to a place where Daddaw regularly served called Loaves and Fishes. It was such a neat experience to feed the homeless with my grandfather. I loved seeing him serve so selflessly and diligently. I will never forget how the other men treated him with so much affection and respect. I knew he was a big part of their ministry. I got the same feeling yesterday when I sat in his hospital room and visitors were streaming in and out to love on him and Madelyn. They are both so well loved.

The thing I will take most from my grandfather's legacy is that you never retire from serving the Lord. He served with all his might until the end of his life. He was always willing to take any opportunity the Lord presented. That is something I would like to keep in my heart and remember. One day, God-willing, when Curt and I are old and gray and the only expectation the world has of us is to retire and do whatever we please, I want to remember my grandfather's example. I want to be completely poured out on my last day.

Thank You, Lord, for giving me the chance to know my Daddaw. Thank You for the souls he fought for and the blood he shed in World War II and Korea, for the family he raised, for the church members he loved, and for the underprivileged he served. And thank you for all the memories.

Columbia Commissioning

Hey, Darling Ones. I know that the Virginia Tech tragedy is what is utmost on our minds today - even mine as I wrestle to stay focused on my lesson for tonight - but I wanted to do as I promised. A number of you who attended the LPL event in Columbia asked for a copy of the words we spoke over one another at the conclusion. I didn't have it at work with me yesterday but I have it now. Here it is! May God manifest His tender mercies to each one of you today.

Count it a joy, Dear One
When life gets hard.
God is doing something huge!
He is also proving
That you are NOT a fake.
Be brave, Mighty Warrior.
Your God is with you!
When waves are crashing,
Stand to your feet,
Throw your head back
And feel the wind of the Spirit!
God is painting a masterpiece
With multi-colored trials.
Go forth and display
Divine special effects
To the great glory of God.
YOU CAN DO IT!

PS. If you get a moment, would you be gracious enough to pray for us in our Houston Tuesday night Bible study as we conclude our series on Proverbs tonight? God has been speaking a fresh word to me about prayer recently and I am more convinced than ever that certain things will happen in our individual lives only as a result of our prayer. I believe if you'd stop and pray, God will accomplish some things tonight among my beloved home girls that we'd otherwise miss in our here and now. Thank you so much!

Tragedy

"But you, O Lord, are a compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness. Turn to me and have mercy on me; grant your strength to your servant and save the son of your maidservant. Give me a sign of your goodness, that my enemies may see it and be put to shame, for you, O LORD, have helped me and comforted me" (Psalm 86:15-17).

Shocked. Baffled. Sickened. Overwhelmed. Horrified. Saddened. We are all grieving over the Virginia Tech massacre - not only the worst campus shooting, but THE worst shooting in United States history.

We have been on our faces crying out to God over today's events. We, along with all of you, are praying for everyone affected. May Jesus Himself be their peace and comfort. Lord, have mercy.

Columbia Recap Video

In case you don't have your secret decoder ring nearby, here's the key to those abbreviations:
PDLAM - Please don't laugh at me
DSFX - Divine special effects

You Got It!

My beloved Columbia girls, I am sitting here in my office in tears over your blog entries. I have so much studying to do for Bible study tomorrow night but I felt the nudge to glance at the blog. I believe it was from the Lord so that I could thrill to the thought that no one got in His way this weekend in Columbia, S.C. (that would be my worst nightmare) and that He was seen and experienced. I was overcome. One of the hardest things about serving in a really large arena is that so many faces are beyond my sight and so many necks beyond my reach. I am so grateful to God that He, on the other hand, is intimately working in every life in the crowd and His Holy Spirit interceding the entire time for each one according to the will of God. (Romans 8)

The part that makes me most want to bawl is that you got the DSFX part! YOU GOT IT! The thought of the wild drama playing around us in the unseen world as our faith is tested and proved really ministered to me in my preparation but I didn't know if I could explain it adequately. I am full of praise that God brought it home! I can't even count to you how many we've heard from in that group that have battled cancer and debilitating losses and unexplainable circumstances. Even very young people. Their faithfulness is not in vain! Neither in yours. Not only are they - and you - living amid the wild work of God but those who bravely endure will be profusely and publicly rewarded on the glorious ground of a vivid Heavenly City teeming with life. Jesus will meet each one at the finish line and adorn their victorious heads with the crown of life that God has promised to those who LOVE HIM. Glory to His magnificent Name!

I am so glad you wrote in. My system is weary but happy this morning and suddenly charged with a lightning bolt of the Holy Ghost to head back to the Scriptures and seek God's face for another class tomorrow night. I did not bring a copy of the commissioning we did at the end of the conference to work today but I will make sure it gets on here tomorrow.

Sistas, I love you so dearly. Keep following hard after Jesus and keep taking Him at His Word. Be brave! This battle is going to be so much MORE than worth it.

Word from Columbia, S.C.

Our weekend got started with a bang tonight. There were crazy storms going through our area and the Jones family, eighty-pound golden retriever included, spent an exciting hour taking cover in the church basement. I was pretty freaked out with the tornado sirens wailing and all, but once we got down there I calmed down. Jackson and Beckham had a big time exploring a new space together. The storm just missed us, but I'm sad to say there are some other families in the area who are having to pick up the pieces tonight.

I just heard from our friend Rich who is at the Living Proof Live event in Columbia, South Carolina, this weekend. (Rich is the one who so faithfully provides the recap videos for us.) Here's what he had to say:

Amanda, here is a photo from tonight that you might want to post on the
blog for the sisters that are praying for this event. I have been to many
events like (58 I think) and I have never felt so much of the presence of
the Lord as in the arena this afternoon.



Praise the Lord!

Please Hang With Us For One More, Single Sistas!

If you darlin' single sistas will hang in here with us for one more blatantly family-oriented entry, I promise we won't make a habit of doing so many in a row. You mean so much to me and I make a point of keeping you on my mind when I get to serve the Word. It's just that I've been speaking on marriage and parenting here at the end of my Tuesday night series out of Proverbs. So, that's what's been on my mind. You may be relieved to know that last night was my final session on family with one general session left for the series. (Disclaimer: We'll always have stuff about Jackson on the ministry blog because he's the official little prince of LPM!)

Last night at Bible study I taught on being a mom and my mind has been swimming with memories of my girls when they were little bitty. As God would have it, a few weeks ago I happened on an old prayer journal from 1982 when Amanda was barely three and Melissa was a newborn. Those of you in the throes will not be surprised to hear that it was filled with unsophisticated requests for things like more sleep, for Melissa to adjust better to the church nursery, for financial help as I got to stay home with the girls, for Amanda not to catch Melissa's cold, for Keith and I to get along better, for him to want to go to church, for him to stop cussing (I hope you're smiling because I am), for him to...and for him to...and for him to...and for him to...and for us to get to go to a marriage conference, for me to apply what I was learning in my first Dr. Dobson book, for me to have a better disposition (I must have used the word ten times that I could find), and for me to make minutes for my quiet time because "my day goes so much better when I do." Sound familiar?

(My personal favorite was when I asked God for forgiveness for trying to steal some of His glory for being so prideful about the way I played handbells in the handbell choir. I laughed until I cried. Then again, it has nothing to do with children but you surely would not have wanted to miss that, would you?)

Even before I found the journal, I'd begun reliving so many of those experiences as I watched Amanda with her young family. One of the things I enjoy so much as I relive those priceless and challenging days in my memory is Amanda telling me all about her fellow mom-friends and the babies they share. Second only to seeing pictures of Jackson in his Easter outfit, I died to see pictures of Ella and Ava, his best girl buddies who were born within days of him. The pictures did not disappoint. I hang on every word Amanda says as she tells me about this mom and this baby, that mom and that baby.

I can't overemphasize how rich my fellow moms made my parenting experience. Particularly one: my best friend, Johnnie. She had two boys and I had two girls and we dragged those four kids to every McDonalds in Houston just so we could finish a sentence. We taught Mother's Day Out together because we were both broke. We home-made family Christmas gifts because we didn't have the money to buy them. (We spent what money we had on our babies.) I hate arts and crafts to this day and still have burns from glue guns. That's not all. I'd decide I'd had it with Keith and I'd leave him in the morning sometimes, go to her house with my unsuspecting girls, drink a cup of coffee, get in a better mood, and be back home by the time he got off work. He'd walk in the door, ask about my day, and I'd say under my breath, "I left you today. That's how my day was." Hee hee. Somehow I'd feel some satisfaction with that, repent, then fall in love with him all over again. It was his looks.

My point is, Moms, you've got to have you a support group of other moms. Many who are peers. Others who are just ahead of you. They will be used of God to get you through everything from the mundane to the morose. As I told my class last night, our ancient female ancestors walked to wells and rivers together to get water. Our great grandmothers quilted and canned together. We, instead, are imprisoned in our minivans driving breakneck speed, thinking a few maniacal minutes on a cell phone can replace a regular play-date where believing moms can take some time to laugh and share. I don't think it's a luxury. It's a necessity for mental (and often spiritual!) health! Because, you see,...

*No day full of dirty diapers has overtaken you but such as is common to moms.
*No tantrum has overtaken you but such as is common to moms.
*No "but, Mom, everybody is going!" has overtaken you but such as is common to moms.
*No "You hate me!" has overtaken you but such as is common to moms.
*No child's first love has overtaken you but such as is common to moms.
*No child's first broken heart has overtaken you but such as is common to moms.
*No broken curfew has overtaken you but such as is common to moms.
*No goodbye has overtaken you but such as is common to moms.

About five years ago, my buddy Johnnie's oldest son, Jeremy, was just about to vow his life to the woman of his dreams. The music was already playing in the sanctuary and we were only about three minutes from the service starting. We looked around and suddenly realized that it was just the six of us left in the choir room: Johnnie, her two boys, and me and my two girls. The four kids were all beautiful, God-loving young adults. Johnnie and I had lived through it and they'd lived through us. Wow, Lord. The groomsmen had already gone to their posts and it was just about time for Jeremy to take his place through a sanctuary door down a long hall. Had we tried to manipulate a few moments alone between the six of us, we could never have pulled it off. It was a gift from God. The completely unplanned moment was not lost on a single one of us six and even now I could cry about the tenderness of it. Without anyone saying a word, Jeremy held out his arm for one of my daughters. Jordan held out his arm for the other. And Johnnie held out her arm to me. Arm in arm, three familiar pairs of us walked the long hall, laughing, and nearly crying, making our way toward the finish line of young family-hood just like we began: together. Those kinds of relationships don't take place in five minutes. They take years. Crises. Prayers. Divine favor. Your fellow moms are some of the most priceless treasures God has bestowed on you to cheer you on your way to the finish line of young parenting. Grab some arms and do it together.

I love you.

Bed Head

Beth is going to touch base with us tomorrow. In the meantime...

Sometimes I have really intense bed head.


Mama's rollers are my new hobby.


My first Easter egg hunt was in the church nursery. It was snowing outside.


I had so much fun!

An Easter Message from Beth

Your Kids' Stories

The You Brighten My Day post was wildly popular. We already had 308 comments when I turned them off! They were all incredibly entertaining. Thank you so much for participating! They had me "laughing at the days to come." (See Prov. 31:25b). Mom and I sent several emails back and forth saying, "Did you see this one?"

Some were convicting.

When my almost 30-year-old daughter was around 5 years old, I was driving home with her sitting next to me. By mistake, I beeped the horn. She turned and looked at me and I said, "I did that by mistake". She answered back, "I know that...because you didn't say jerk afterwords"! How powerful our words can be to our little ones! Out of the mouth of my babe spoke God's truth!

Some made me laugh so hard I literally cried.

My daughter loves to sing...and loudly! The problem is that she doesn't always get the words right. I recall one particular Sunday morning during praise and worship time we were singing "He is Exalted". Sarah was 3 at the time, so everyone in front of us was listening to her, as most people do when young children are not afraid to "perform". She was listening closely for the right time to come in, and when that time came she belted out "He is a Sausage, the King is a Sausage..." Oh yeah, I wanted to crawl right under the pew! We all had a good laugh that morning!

My daughter, who was five at the time, came storming out of her room one morning while I was watching you on Life Today. She announced, "Beth Moore woke me up." I looked at her, a little taken back because the TV wasn't that loud and I don't know how she heard it in her bedroom. I asked her how Beth Moore woke her up. She said, "I know that voice, mommy. I can see her hair in my sleep. I know Beth Moore." OK, after I finally stopped laughing I asked her, "Do you want to sit down and watch her with me." She replied, "Yes, I like her."
("I can see her hair in my sleep"? That has to be the funniest thing I've ever heard.)

My boys are as big as me now, but when my youngest was about 4, we were at a beach on Lake Michigan for the day. The facilities were quite stinky and dirty, so when our son said he had to "tinkle", we informed him to "just go in the water". He looked at us, shocked and said "really?". We assured him that the fish go there and at this beach he could too. You can imagine us hiding our faces as he walked into the water, about knee deep, pulled his trunks all the way down and sprayed the incoming waves!

Others had me crying in a different way.

My oldest son is autistic. He is 12 years old and is for the most part non verbal. Although he loves to have the bible read to him and LOVES to watch Bible man movies. I had a tough day (ministry issues and dealing with chronic Lyme's disease). I had my head down on my desk and was crying quietly. I prayed and said, " Lord, please speak to me today. Give me some hope." My son (with autism), within minutes came over and tapped me on the shoulder. I looked up at him and he sat down right in front of me (eye to eye - if you know much about autism, eye contact is nearly miraculous).

My son did not speak to me. But he sat there, looked at my weepy eyes and sang "Jesus loves me" from start to finish. I have never had such a spiritual, tangible moment with my Lord like that.

He sent my child, that could not speak, to sing and remind me, "Jesus does love me...THIS I KNOW!" I can not even think of that story without crying. He may not know the alphabet, or how to write his own name, and he may be in diapers at 12 years old, BUT my son knows the most important of all things - "Jesus loves me..." And he ministered to his mommy that day with those words.

At this point, you may need to wipe your eyes to see them, but while we're back on the subject of children I'll share a couple of pictures.

This is Jenny W.'s daughter deep in the Word.


And this is my boy in his Easter outfit.

I Got Me a Fresh Word from God

I know I just wrote last night but I can't help myself. Why? Because I got me a fresh word from God. There I was on my walk this morning with Beanie who was racing squirrels and nearly pulling my left shoulder out of socket. Praise was blaring from my headphones and I mostly had my right arm straight up in the air. I thought about something really cool God did in the last 24 hours and I had to give Him a "Yahoo!" Maybe you don't get the term because you don't live in Texas. Or maybe you've never said it right and for that reason, it has never been fulfilling. Here's how you have to say it so you can practice: you NEVER say the first syllable with a "Yah" as in "Paw." Never. You say it with a short "a" as in "Gag." Then, you hold it out for a long time: "Yaaaaahhhhhhhhh"! Only then can you add a comparatively short: "hoo"! And you kind of fall off the note a bit on the "hoo." Start high and loud. End low and quick.

So, anyway, I wondered if God enjoyed "yahoo!" Maybe not as much, I thought, since it's just a celebratory word without identifying who you're giving praise to. An intelligent person might reason that "Yah" in the first half of it is Hebrew for Lord but I don't know that the Texans who were home, home on the range where the deer and the antelope play had brushed up on their etymology. Furthermore, the way we came to butcher it (along with the deer and the antelope) with a short "a" might not give Him the praise He's due. Hence, my new word. All at once it came right over me. Almost like a moment of inspiration. "Yahoo-Jah!" Yes, indeed! Just try it! Feels right, doesn't it? A Texas "Hallelujah!" We're a hospitable State, happy to share, so go right ahead and take it up with us if you have a mind to. I expect it to spread.

So, that's what happened to me this morning. I've said it a lot of times since then. In fact, my lips are kind of mouthing it right now.

I'm so happy.

God and Cavities

Pardon the double negatives but is there nothing the Lord can't do? Nothing He's not good at? No office He can't take over? I've been concerned and on red-prayer-alert about one of the darling young women in my life, one of my little "mentees," who has really been challenged by God to trust Him in the area of finances. Like many of you, she is single and overwhelmed at times by shouldering so many responsibilities alone. Under the tyranny of the urgent, she hasn't been able to even think about going to the dentist for several years. Then came the inevitable tooth ache. The dentist took a good look and diagnosed her with a whopping seven cavities and a flooring dollar estimate. She was nearly sick. Knowing all she'd been up against lately, so was I. And she wasn't about to let me offer an instant solution and pay for it. We did what any two worried women would do on Saturday at the mall: we got a strong swig of Starbucks, looked for a new Easter dress, talked ourselves silly, and reaffirmed our trust in the One who has never proved unfaithful. I do mean NEVER.

I got an email from her today. She saw another dentist this morning who charges a bit less and, lo and behold, now she only has two cavities. Who would have believed God could also do dentistry? WHO KNEW?? I told my friend today that this gives a whole new meaning to the filling of the Spirit.

Open your mouth and speak it, Sista: "Ah, Sovereign Lord, You have made the heavens and the earth by Your great power and outstretched arm. Nothing is too hard for You." (Jeremiah 32:17) You gotta love Him. He has a way of showing up where you just don't expect Him.

PS. Amanda and I had a fit over your children's stories! You've given me tons of stuff to use and not just for next week's lesson. For years to come! We still have lots to read but you'll be hearing a response from us about them soon! I love you, Sistas. You are DEAR to me and I'm not just talking trash.