When our first daughter, Abby was born, Andrew thought it would be good for us to each write a letter to her then as well. So we did. (By that time, I had gotten a little better.) The tradition continued when our next daughter, Audrey, was born. These are kept in their baby books. As the girls would go to camps or have special events, Andrew would slip a letter in their luggage or send one in the mail to reach the destination where they would be. ( I would sometimes remember to write too.) These letters were for the purpose of reminding them how much they were loved and to reassure them everything was going to be alright while they were away. Also to encourage them to enjoy the experience they were having.

Yesterday we took Abby to college. About a month ago, I had sketched out in my prayer journal all that I wanted to put in a letter to her. I never got around to writting it. Everytime I attempted, I would think, this time I am writing for myself, not her. Perhaps an attempt to remind her of the things I had hoped she already knew. Oddly enough, Andrew had considered and also decided not to write this time.

So off we rode taking the three hour trip to Lexington, KY. Abby”s little red Honda was packed to maxium capicity. There was only room for her in that vehicle. Andrew, Audrey and I were riding together in the Expedition. We were in front for a while then after calling to see if she could take the lead, Abby passed. I think she wanted to show us she could do it on her own.
We arrived after her roommate and her family had already unpacked most of her things. Unloading and unpacking went pretty quickly. The new college girls were settling in and soon to be off to their first meeting. We said our good-byes and then out to eat with the roommate’s family.

On the drive home, Andrew, Audrey and I laughed a lot. We knew Abby was O.K., and we were O.K. too. Most of the trip home Audrey was keeping us entertained with her “Audrey quotes.” (Something Abby had begun to record in the last year or so. ) This was a little unexpected for me because you see – I am a crier. I cry all the time…sad, happy, touched, mad…crying just happens to me like breathing. I know it, the girls know it, everybody who knows me knows it. And yet as the day went by I was surprised that I had not cried. I had only choked up once after hugging her in the dorm room. In fact I was pretty proud of myself and then we reached home, but it’s not what you think.

We arrived home and quickly began to transition back. In the kitchen at my desk, there is a drawer that is openned regularly. Keys are kept there as well as bills to be paid along with paper clips, reading glasses, etc. I pulled the drawer out to put up Abby”s extra set of car keys and then I saw them – three envelopes- each individually labled with our names: one for “Mom,” ” Daddy” and “Audrey.” Abby had left one for each of us. Audrey was rushing in to gather things together for Andrew to take her to a church youth event. In a broken voice, I mumbled, “Abby wrote letters to all of us.” I laid theirs out on the desk while I grabbed mine and raced to the bathroom. I hadn’t even read it yet and I was already crying.

While reading, I switched into the “ugly cry” as Abby had written down memories from childhood and also words of affirmation that reached into the depth of a mother’s hope and heart. After Andrew took Audrey, he returned and entered into my sobbing madness with his letter in hand. I noticed he had already teared up as well. He said that his was the kind of letter he hoped every father could receive from his daughter.

Later I found that Audrey had read her letter before she had left. She expressed that hers had meant so much to her also. Andrew and I both shared that we had both thought of writing to Abby, but had not. Then Andrew said that this was a coming of age/circle of life kind of thing. As she was going off to college, Abby had now done for us what we had tried to do for her so many years ago. She wrote the letters to remind us how much she loves us and to reassure us that everything is going to be all right. And she did just that and so much more.

So we have the individual letters addressed to each of us with with the particular language spoken from Abby’s heart to ours. It is tangible, recorded so that we can be reminded of this time and the love we share. But it’s not about the letter, is it? It’s about the relationship – and the message. I am most grateful for that.

It reminds me of other letters that have been written. Letters to remind us of the love the Author has for us and to reassure us that everything is going to be O.K. Abby’s simple, thoughtful act of kindness blessed me and reminded me of this simple truth. Thank you, Abby. And thank you, Lord.

2 Corin. 3:2-3 You yourselves are our letter written on our hearts, known and read by everybody. You show that you are a letter from Christ, the result of our ministry, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts.

There is just something about being in a car, away from distractions, especially if you don’t have cell phone service. Perhaps it’s the fact that you are moving as well. For me, sitting in a room, idle and isolated does not produce the same results. Maybe it’s a mind-game I play on myself thinking I’m actually making progress by conquering the road. I enjoyed those rides with Becky, but the trips alone are just as productive, especially driving in the country.

What is it about a country road? It’s different than interstate scenery. You don’t know what twist or sharp curve may be up ahead not to mention the unique lawn ornaments displayed in the middle of nowhere. The whole ordeal can make you tense up or burst out laughing at any moment.
Last year I had the opportunity to frequent a country road several times each week. I had decided to substitute teach again. (Something I had not done in almost 20 years.) The principal that called me most was from an elementary school way out in the county. One of my close friends worked there and had put in a good word for me. I still remember following her down that road on that first day I was to work. I cried all the way there. It seemed like we were never going to arrive. It was as if we went to the end of the earth and then a little further before we reached the school. I didn’t notice any of the scenery; only the 20 minutes of driving time that it took.
I also cried all the way home. My thoughts and worries on the way there were basically two…(1) Would I be able to do what I was asked to do? (2) Would I be accepted? On the way home, the concerns were (1) Did I do a good job and (2) Had I been accepted? The principal continued to call, and I continued to take the journey back there. The crying drives continued for a while.

At the school I found strangers that became my friends and kids who would would win my heart. One student hugged me so hard that I would be turned over and out of my wheelchair. There was this one forth-grade boy who wore cowboy boots to school almost everyday, even P.E. day. His voice was steady and he didn’t seem to get into a big hurry. He stole my heart. During free time or recess, he would draw pictures of monster trucks for me. He would tell me about going hunting or just his latest game on the computer. His mom worked at the school, so he was usually there early and stayed late after school. On the days I worked, I would try and arrive early. He and I developed this fun way of greeting each other. When he would see me from a distance – down the hall, he would yell my name and I would his as we would race to hug each other. One particular morning, he had those boots moving and I was rolling pretty fast also, so when we embraced, I flipped straight back and over to the side – out of my chair. He and his buddy who witnessed my fall were in shock. I was laughing and assured then that I was OK. Two teachers quickly ran over and did a two-man-lift putting me back into my chair. At the end of the day this same little buddy of mine helped me maneuver through a rough spot. From behind, he gently lifted my push-handles to get me over a hump through a doorway. Then he leaned down and whispered into my ear, “I didn’t want to throw you out frontwards too!”

Before I knew it the drive to and from that elementary school became something I enjoyed rather than endured. Instead of crying and fretting, I was singing and praying. I didn’t have a coke-in-the bottle, but sometimes I would get a diet Mt. Dew from the teacher’s lounge for the drive home. It was wonderful watching the landscape colors change as the seasons would. I especially loved the Christmas decorations on the John Deere Tractor all decked out with lights. The trees went from green foliage to brilliant colors then bare limbs. The next thing I knew, the spring blossoms were appearing. On that country road, the twist and turns were the same, but more than just the scenery had changed. I had also.

A change was needed in my life. I needed to be more dependent on the Lord and this journey caused me to become just that. It wasn’t about the road. It was about the journey! A journey that can make me tense up at times or simply burst into laughter. I’m grateful for the journey.

2 Corin. 4:17-18… For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. 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.

After using the restroom in one building, I had to investigate how I would enter another building if the regular entrance was not accessible. I had become accustom to this type of planning after living 33 of my 50 years in a wheelchair. Lately, though, I’ve just been feeling “old,” and not too self-assured. The meeting happened to take place in a cramped room and my entrance was different from the other parents. By the time I would venture into the room, kids were seated on the floor and parents lined the sides all around like sardines in a “hot” tin can. Folks stepped aside as best they could while I wheeled in. I felt like I stuck out and was taking the place of perhaps two standing adults.

As the meeting got underway, I tried to smile a lot and disguise the pit in my stomach and the tears welling up in my eyes. Then they asked all the parents to gather up stairs onto the stage. As the moms and dads ran past me, cheering as they raced by (and some even stumbling over me), I knew I was going to lose it! All I could think of was how pitiful I looked and how embarrassed my thirteen-year-old must be …watching all this. The campers led the parents in a “silly” song, complete with motions. I just watched and smiled on the outside while dying on the inside.

On the long drive home, Audrey told me she felt bad for me that I couldn’t get on the stage. I asked her how that made her feel. She said, “At first bad, but then when I saw what the parents had to do, I was glad!” (I think my being on stage doing those movements would have embarrassed her more.) In that same line of thinking, I continued by asking Audrey if it ever emabarrassed her that I was in a wheelchair. Her answer was “No, why should I be? The only thing you can’t do is walk.”

My mind went back to the time when I had just found out I was expecting our first daughter. I was talking with a mother of older children and I confessed that I had a fear that my child would be embarrassed that I was in a wheelchair. The veteran mother answered, “When she becomes a teenager, she will be embarrassed of you, but it will not have anything to do with the wheelchair!”

It really is not about the chair, is it? My thoughts and focus were on myself and how I looked in that chair. This chair is an “attention getter!” Some may awkwardly turn away while others may stare. For those who do look my way, I have an opportunity to be “real,” and not be embarrassed. This chair is a tool the Lord has used to help me mature at least some. The focus should not be on myself or the chair, but instead on the Lord and the difference He makes even in embarrassing situations. “I” should be embarrassed as to how I was thinking!

But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of the this world and the despised things – and the things that are not – to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him. I Corin. 1:27-29

For quite some time now, when I take Audrey to the orthodontist, I stay in the van and read while she goes in to get everything tightened. It’s a pretty good set-up for me because I don’t have to worry about how I’m dressed or make-up, and it makes me do nothing for at least a little while. But this particular time, it seemed a little longer, so I read on and just relaxed for a bit. Then…

She came out of the building with a bright green bag in her hand. My eye was first drawn to the bag and then I remembered when her older sister had come out with a similar bag. The bag is filled with all those things you had been denied (or should have ) during the time you had your braces on. With the bag as a hint, I quickly looked at Audrey ‘s face. She had her head down and her lips together trying NOT to smile. Just as she opened the door to the vehicle, she cracked and I saw those beautiful, pearly whites that had been hidden by metal and neon-colored rubber bands for over two years. She just was so cute!

I thought about how amazing it was that Audrey was waiting for just the right time to smile and yet she was smiling, even with her lips and eyes and teeth not showing. She was smiling because of what she knew on the inside. I wonder if that isn’t how we should be with our knowledge of what the Lord has done for us. May we live our lives just bursting to tell what the Lord has done for us!

Psm. 71:15 My mouth will tell of your righteousness, of your salvation all day long, though I know not its measure.

She was laughing so hard and I began to laugh through tears. Rayna shared with me the different reactions of those who heard the news. One person even told her that she shouldn’t tell folks because she is only about 4 or 6 weeks along…that she should wait until she is at least 12 weeks. I loved Rayna’s response. She said that she wasn’t going to let Satan or anyone else rob her of this joy! She said that regardless of the future, never in her whole life has she ever been able to tell anyone that she is pregnant and she is going to tell it now!

I realize this is a sensitive subject, especially for those who have suffered many highs and lows in this area of life. I don’t mean at all to minimize that pain. It is very real and sometimes on going with no relief in sight. My heart aches for those. Some of you going through this, I also call friends. But for the moment, I want to focus on what Rayna is focusing on…”the here and now.” I want to celebrate and acknowledge that the Lord can change life in a heartbeat, even with the heartbeat of new life! I know there are phone calls that can change your whole world in an instant of receiving them…good or bad. The call from Rayna was good and changed my outlook on TODAY…NOW! The world just seems to be different.

Regardless of your circumstance, let’s look at the world through “eyes of Hope and Joy.” Depending on your perspective, the world can be a different place!

“Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.” Eph. 3: 20-21

A few weeks ago, Andrew and I took Abby to the University of Kentucky for merit weekend. It was an invitation only opportunity for incoming freshmen to get to register for classes for the following fall. Audrey was home with Grandma and Grandpa, so we knew she was cared for and we could concentrate on Abby.

We had the opportunity to listen to several sessions from key folks on campus explaining “college life” now and how it all works. Some of the sessions were with our student and some were just for the parents. There was a Q & A time. During that time, I felt out of place listening to questions. It seemed the parents were so apprehensive about not being able to control or be in “the know” about their student’s life. “I” right now, (and things could change, especially if my hormones get out of wack!) am so excited for our daughter. This is a wonderful time and I think should be celebrated!

I do remember perhaps when the Lord began to show me how to “trust” Abby and the “Jesus in Abby.” She was about 3-years-old. We were on an adventure…going to the big town of Nashville to Bellevue Mall. It is about an hour and a half away. “I” was very apprehensive that day and yet excited at the same time. After marrying the most wonderful man in the world I moved from a town with many malls and only 3 hours from the beach to a city with a tiny mall and 8 hours from the beach. So for Abby and me to be going to Nashville, it was like going to the mall and the beach at the same time!

In the middle of the Bellevue Mall there is ( or at least was then) this large playground complete with a seesaw, plenty of things to climb on (and get hurt), and a big frog that one could climb and sit on! Abby said to me “I want to sit on that frog!” I told her I didn’t know about that. (That’s my way of parenting sometimes…hoping they will forget and I won’t have to say “no” so many times.)

Here’s the dilemma: the playground was on the next level down with no elevator to get to that level There were only steps all the way around the seemingly large perimeter. There were not just a few steps either, probably about 20 all the way around. No big deal!… unless your Mama is in a wheelchair!

With every shopping venture in each store, even the children’s stores, Abby’s mind was on the frog. She was patient, but continued to ask, “May I please go sit on that frog?” Finally I began to tear up and as best I could explained to her that I could not get to her if she fell and got hurt…that she would have to walk all the way down those steps by herself and also all the way up to get back to me… that if she fell off the frog I could not get to her. (I didn’t get into the strangers grabbing her and running away with her on the other side of the playground. I thank the Lord that I didn’t give her all my paranoia!) Abby said, “I can do it and you can watch me!” So… I did.

Abby does not get in a hurry (still to this day)! So I watched as she slowly made her way down all of those steps, one foot then the other joining it on the same step, one at a time. I was a mess! I was doing the “ugly cry!” I’m already in a wheelchair so if someone saw me, they would know that I needed help. Thankfully the Lord allowed the mall to not be so crowded at that time of day, not many folks around…just Abby and me with the Lord teaching me a huge lesson about parenting. She made it to the frog, climbed aboard, and just sat. Once she waved at me, but for the most part, she just sat and looked around…taking it all in, perhaps from a different perspective. She had done that all by herself and I just watched. She had to feel good about herself. I bet she sat on “that frog” for a good 20 minutes. One little boy also climbed on the frog and Abby got off. When the boy was finished, she climbed up again. Finally she came back up the steps, carefully just as she had done going down. She met me with a hug, and I told her how proud I was of her. She quickly climbed up on my lap and said, “Can we go home now?” I said, “Yes ma’am.” The lesson was complete. As we drove home, Abby napped, but I prayed again through tears.

Now with regard to her going off to college, I have an opportunity to trust Abby when she says, “I can do it. You can watch me.” I believe in “Abby,” but more importantly I believe in the “One” who lives inside of Abby. No, I will not get to “watch” every movement in her life as I was able to witness even how she responded to the boy who climbed on the frog, but I will be able to see the results of what He does “in” her.

So I may be a little weird, but I am excited for Abby. I want to “watch” from the perimiter and see what He does in this precious girl’s life! Still 14 years later, I am grateful for that frog!

Psalm 32:8 I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you and watch over you.

This past weekend I had the privilege of being with the ladies from Marietta, Georgia’s Mt. Bethel UMC. We were in Opelika, AL. It was a six hour drive for me, but was well worth the time. My friend, Jeannie Kay was to drive over from South Carolina and meet me there. Because of surgery a few days before, she couldn’t come. After some prayer, I decided to spend the weekend alone at the retreat. Maybe then I would actually focus on why I was there…to minister to others instead of focusing on myself. Little did I know the return I would receive.

The drive proved to be long with rain, but I prayed, sang, worked on my talks, talked with my brother on the phone. When I arrived the ladies welcomed me. With each session that we were together, we bonded. At lunch I got to spend some time with Kris, Jane, Janet and others. It was at that time that I shared some of my “insides.” What encouragement I received. They just listened, shared their thoughts and we moved on. But we weren’t the same, now. We had grown a little closer because of the vulnerability and acceptance. So many precious gifts were given. One sweet lady gave me a pair of earrings that I had been admiring in the bookstore (not to mention the bracelets and elaborate goodies in my speaker’s bag that I also received!) Among the gifts given, my favorite was from Janet. As we were saying our good-byes, she called me aside and basically told me to be faithful where the Lord had me…that He was using me right where I was. I don’t really want to be where I am right now. I am being stretched! But because of these precious women…I am seeing differently. I am not the same!

The drive home was sunny, beautiful. My contacts were drying out and fogging up from so much crying. The only way I knew to be able to keep them in and still see was to continue to keep them moist…keep crying! Ha! So during the ride home, I listened to a CD that I have had for almost a year, but had not carved out time to listen to it. It was a CD of my precious friend’s memorial service. His name is Hal Norton. He went home to be with the Lord last year around this time. It saddens me so to know that I will never see his sweet, round face again on this earth or hear his charming, southern gentleman’s voice again here, but as I listened to the CD, I laughed. “Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion” said one of the characters from “Steel Magnolias.” I agree. Rev. Norton was quite a character, and in that memorial service, many shared about his joking and stretching them to be more than they thought possible. I remember that he wanted me to do a music recording and had asked me why I hadn’t done that. I told him that I didn’t have the money and I didn’t know if my heart was right. He said “I’ll get the money. You get your heart right.” He did, but I’m not really sure my heart ever was “right.” We did the recording. (Rev. Norton did tell me to do it!) I realized that because of Hal Norton in my life…I am not the same!

One other stop in Nashville on the trip home was to get in a quick visit with my friend Lisa Harper. She was the one who had recommended me to do the Mt. Bethel retreat. Lisa is also the one who wanted me to go para-sailing in Florida. (She always has “fun” ideas about what I can do!! I choose NOT to do the para-sailing.) I might add that she is the one who thought it would be a good idea to write a book. We did. She stretches me and is always encouraging me to be the best that I can possibly be. Because of Lisa…I am not the same.

Because of our Lord and His using circumstances and precious people in our lives, we can forever be changing…from glory to glory. I know He is doing a work in me…in spite of me…I am not the same!

Recently I was doing my grocery shopping at our local Kroger. I am a paraplegic and although I’ve lived life in this wheelchair for almost 33 years now, I forget that others haven’t always seen someone pushing a grocery cart with one hand and pushing a wheelchair with the opposite. I have quite a system worked out as to how gather the goods and get that cart through the store. The cart only usually travels the perimeter of the store. It is parked at the end of every other isle while I roll down each one, gathering things on my lap and then take them to and place them in the cart. If I can’t reach something, then I meet someone nearby and ask for help. (I have never been turned down!)

On this particular day, several new faces saw me making my way through the store, doing my system. One man offered to push my cart and I told him the usual answer, “Oh honey, I’ve been in this chair for 33 years. I’ve got this down to a science. You should have seen me when my children were little.” That usually does it. I then receive a smile and a nod with some type of how proud they are of me. Then I met this gentleman, standing at the back of Kroger, just drinking his free cup of coffee. That answer wasn’t enough. He thought I had a need and I did, but I didn’t realize I had a need.

I sensed that he really wanted to help, so I went back to him and asked him to reach something for me on the next isle. He gladly did then took it back to my cart and control of my cart. That’s when he began to push the cart and follow me up and down every isle. To be honest, I was very, very frustrated! He was slowing me down and wanted to not only find out about me but also tell me about himself. He said that since his wife had died that he would take his clothes to the laundromat down the street and then come to Kroger, drink some coffee and visit with folks. That softened my heart some.

We made it to the check out and the Kroger employees took over unloading my groceries. They all know me pretty well and were smiling because someone was helping me. They began to brag on me and how I do this all the time by myself. I thanked the gentleman and then on out to my van I went with the Kroger employee following and then unloading the groceries into the back of my van. I wheeled inside, transfered into the driver’s seat and guess who knocked on my window? Yes, the gentleman who had taken charge of my cart and time for probably 45 minutes. I pushed the button and my window went down. He stretched out his hand inside for me to shake and said, “Mam, this has been the highlight of my day.”

As he turned to walk away, I put my head on the steering wheel and began to cry. “I am so sorry, Lord. Please forgive me for not seeing the real reason for going to Kroger at this particular time.” That man had a need, but I also had a need. His was to be “needed.” I “needed” to lay aside my pride and realize that people are important and they all have story.

Certainly I don’t believe that I am to stop and listen to everyone who comes in my path. Sometimes the urgent really does have to get done, but I do believe that the Lord will give us discernment when we ask and will show us how to minister to the real “need” at hand. That man was a blessing to me and I would have missed it all if he hadn’t been so persistent in seeing my need.

By the way, as I sat there in my van with my head on the steering wheel crying, I heard a knock at the window again. You guessed it. He was checking on me…wanted to know if I was alright.

Oh Lord, give me the discernment to see the “needs” around me and which ones I am to help. Keep me in the place of need for YOU. Apart from YOU, I can do nothing!