Learning

When my daughter, Anna Marie, was a little girl, one of her favorite pastimes was "playing church.” Playing church normally meant she'd line up her baby dolls on the little bench in the foyer of the house, take her large Bible story book and sit in front of them. She was the teacher; they were the kids in her Sunday school class. For hours she'd play a children's tape in her tape player while she shuffled the dolls to and from "church."

Sometimes, she would engage her dolls in a question and answer session, much like the ones she and I often had. "Who was born at Christmas?” she'd ask the silent group.

Then, in a peculiar voice, she'd yell out, "Jesus!"

"Who died on a cross so you could go to heaven?” She was the teacher again.

"Jesus!" she'd yell again.

One morning I sat at the breakfast table watching her putter around with her corn flakes. It was time for a question and answer session of our own. I decided on a difficult question, just to see how much she was retaining.

"Who found a silver cup in his sack of corn?" I queried.

"Noah!" she shouted, sending a spray of corn flakes and milk across the red-checkered tablecloth.

Great. "No," I told her gently. "Remember? It was the baby brother of Joseph."

She wrinkled her nose and thought a while. "I give up," she said.

"Benjamin," I said. "Remember Benjamin, sweetie?"

"Mama," she said, "That's too hard for a little girl like me."

Maybe she was right. Maybe I expected too much of her. I just wanted her to be learning and not just listening.

Later in the day, she wanted me to play church with her. This particular version differed from when she played with the dolls; it required my active participation. For reasons known only to her, I needed to be the preacher. And as is the case sometimes with small congregations, I was also the song leader, the pianist, and one of the church soloists.

This day I had just rendered a humdrum rendition of "Deep and Wide" when she said, "Okay, Mama, now you get in the microphone and say, 'Anna Marie Shockley, please come up.' So I took the microphone—an overripe banana—and said, "Anna Marie Shockley, please come up."

She marched sternly to the piano where I sat. In my best pretend voice I said, "Mrs. Shockley, what are you going to sing for us tonight?"

"You are my helper," she said.

"Okay," I said, agreeably. "I'll be your helper."

"No, Mama," she said. "That's what I'm singing, You Are My Helper." She punched each word for emphasis.

"Hmmm.” I looked thoughtful. "I don't believe I know that one, ma'am. Can you play it?"

She nodded, so I slid off the piano bench. Looking earnest, she climbed on and soon the ivories were making a joyful—okay, loud—noise unto the Lord. Her small voice lifted and fell sporadically as she sang out in a most unstructured fashion.

"You are my helper.” Clang! Bang! "You are my helper.” Clang! Bang! "You are my helper when somebody needs a helper.” Clang! Bang! Clang! Bang! "When I need a song, you are my helper.” Clang! Bang! "When I'm on my knees, you are my helper.” Clang! Bang!

With her eyes clamped shut, she belted out about three rounds of this. At last, she sat smiling and breathless. "Okay, ma'am," she said, turning to me. "It's your turn now.” I hesitated. "No," she said, abruptly. "Church is over."

I let out a great sigh of relief, for I feared I could never follow such a moving act. Besides, a giant lump had mysteriously settled in my throat.

Without question, my sweet child’s song to God had been heartfelt. I remembered all of the times I had offered the Lord petty lip service, my mind on frivolous concerns. Hearing my daughter deliver such a genuine praise offering opened a window inside of me, forcing me to examine my soul's staleness. Where on earth had she come up with that song? I wondered.

As I prepared the evening meal, I glanced at the art work she'd brought home from church and stuck on the refrigerator the week before. Every week the teacher made each pupil a little memento with a Bible verse written on it, hoping to help the little ones remember the day's lesson. This one was a piece of red construction paper in the shape of my daughter’s left hand. In the middle of the small palm were printed these words: I will help thee (Isaiah 41:10).

Staring at those four simple words, I smiled. Now I knew where her song had come from. Anna Marie was learning. And in the process, so was I.

"From the lips of children and infants you have ordained praise” (Matthew 21:16 NIV).

Lord, when my worship becomes stiff and formal, You send a child to point the way.


Taken from the book, Whispers From Heaven (Pacific Press), by Dayle Allen Shockley.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's a privilege to link up with Charlotte and Ginger over at Spiritual Sundays. If you haven't visited them before, they'd love to have you stop by. Please be in prayer for Charlotte. She's having surgery on Monday and I know she would appreciate your prayers.

Your Thyroid Gland - Show & Tell Friday

I'm sure this is the strangest Show and Tell posting ever, but it's all for a good cause and I'm hoping the gracious hostess, Cindy, allows this one to stay.

January is National Thyroid Awareness Month, although it isn't spoken of much, and that's a shame, because thyroid disease is one that often goes undiagnosed, mostly among women. It took my own doctor more than five years to actually diagnose me with hypothyroidism, although I'd had symptoms most of that time, and a family history, which is key. The problem was the lab results kept returning "normal," which is a story within itself.

Do you have five or more of the following symptoms of hypothyroidism?

• Muscle and joint pain.
• Severe menstrual cramps and heavy bleeding.
• Fertility problems.
• Hair/skin changes (including loss or thinning of eyebrows).
• Constipation.
• Family history of thyroid disease.
• Fatigue.
• Neck discomfort/fullness (uncomfortable wearing turtlenecks).
• Depression, even mild.
• Increased forgetfulness.
• Inappropriate weight gain.
• Difficulty losing weight, even when following a diet and exercise plan.
• Always colder than others around you.
• Low body temperature.
• Decreased sex drive.
• Frequent sinus infections.

I'm posting this today in hopes that women who read it will check out the symptoms produced by both hypo- and hyperthyroidism and insist on having a complete work-up by your doctor.

In 2003, the American Association of Clinical Endocrinologists (AACE) recommended that the TSH “normal reference range” on blood tests should run from 0.3 - 3.0, instead of the standard range of 0.5 - 5.5. Not all practitioners (and labs) jumped aboard this bandwagon, but the belief was that this change would help to diagnose the patients who were borderline either way, and presenting with significant symptoms to suggest a thyroid problem.

It’s important to ask your doctor if he or she (and the lab used) uses the new “normal reference range” introduced in 2003. If not, find someone who does. I’m convinced that I’d had this problem for a good 20 years, but because the “reference range” was what it was back then, there was no way of diagnosing it from a blood test. No way of knowing, period. That’s depressing, but it can’t be undone. My advice is if you were tested pre-2003, get re-tested.

I urge women to be aware of the symptoms of thyroid disease. A shocking 80% of those undiagnosed are women. There are countless websites with useful information. Just do a search for "thyroid" and see for yourself. One place I highly recommend is found here.

***********************************************

Regardless of how out of place this post may seem, I'm linking up with Cindy's Show and Tell Friday blog party. It's always a fun place to visit.

The Note From Joe Revisited

In December of 2005, something wonderful happened to me. I checked my email one morning and discovered a note from a man named Joe. I blogged about this incident the day it happened in 2005, but there’s a reason why I’m blogging about it again, so bear with me.

In those days, I was a special contributor at a major newspaper and receiving notes and emails from readers was one of the highlights of my day. Whether folks agreed with me or not didn't matter, but I especially enjoyed hearing from true kindred spirits.

Joe’s email, however, was much more. The subject line read: “a note of gratitude,” and it was, perhaps, the greatest gift I’ve ever received, as a writer. Here, just as he typed it, is what Joe wrote on December 21, 2005:

Ms Shockley, you wrote a small article in the dallas morning news " FAITH COMFORTING IN TROUBLING TIMES " a short time after 9-11. i was so impressed with it i cut it out & placed it in my billfold. two years ago my wife kicked me out because of my drinking. later that night agonizing over the lost of my family i came across your article in my billfold. after reading it, a renewed hope began to build up in me. i knew God was going to see me thru. today, my marriage has been restored and i belong to a christian based 12 steps call "CELEBRATE RECOVERY" . i shall forever be grateful for your article because i felt the Presence of God. joe

In an earlier recollection of this event (in another blogging community), I ended my post by saying how humbling it was to think of this dear man carrying my feeble words around in his wallet for four years, and for finding the courage to make needed changes in his life because of something I’d written. And the fact that he took the time, years later, to write to me and express his thanks was, well, there were simply no words to express how that made me feel. Simply no words.

And I’ve rehashed all of that now to say this. After reading that particular post in 2005, one of my dear friends commented and suggested that maybe I should print out Joe’s note and carry it in my wallet to read whenever I needed a shot of encouragement.

I thought that was a great idea. However, being of old age and forgetful mind, I totally forgot about Joe’s note … until I uncovered it yesterday, there in the folds of my wallet … just when I needed to hear that at least one thing I’d ever done in my life had made a positive difference in the life of another person.

Was this a coincidence? I don’t think so. God knows where we are, what we need, and when we need it the most. Yesterday, God saw a downcast child of His, declaring her life had been one big flop, lamenting to her husband about her myriad failures and assorted flaws. And even though her long-suffering husband tried to assure her that she was wrong, that her life had been nowhere near one big flop, that her imperfections only prove she is human, she was hearing none of it.

So God, in His infinite love and wisdom, saved the rediscovery of Joe’s note for such a time as this, proving once again that not only is He a loving Father who loves His children unconditionally, bestowing upon them blessings they don't deserve, but that He's still a very present help in time of need.

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble (Psalm 46:1).

****************************************************

For more inspiration, head over to Charlotte and Ginger's wonderful blog. I find strength in this community of bloggers every week. I'm sure you will too.

Mosaic Monday - Sisters

“For there is no friend like a sister, in calm or stormy weather, to cheer one on the tedious way, to fetch one if one goes astray, to lift one if one totters down, to strengthen whilst one stands.”
– Christina G. Rossetti

****************************************************
I'm joining the Mosaic Monday party over at The Little Red House.

My Mother's Yellow Dress

I have no idea how we've managed to hold onto this little yellow dress for the last 72 years, but we have. When my mother was five years old, she had her picture made, wearing this dress. Even though my mother comes from a long line of expert seamstresses, this dress was store bought--something really special in 1937. Today, it can be found hanging on a peg in my guest bedroom. I wonder where it will be 72 years from now.

**************************************************

I'm linking up with Cindy for Show and Tell Friday over at her famous blog, My Romantic Home.

For guidelines, and to see what the other bloggers are highlighting today, click on the link.

Mercy

Mercy - an endless flow of undeserved favor from God's hand.

I don't know about you, but I am a dreadfully imperfect human being... in need of God's great mercies every single day of my life.

This song by Gordon Mote is one of my favorite "mercy" songs. I hope it ministers to you, as it always does to me.



It is of the LORD's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness (Lamentations 3:22-23).

And David said, I am in a great strait: let me fall now into the hand of the LORD; for very great are his mercies: but let me not fall into the hand of man (1 Chronicles 21:13).

Remember, O LORD, thy tender mercies and thy lovingkindnesses; for they have been ever of old (Psalm 25:6).

Have mercy upon me, O God, according to thy lovingkindness: according unto the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions (Psalm 51:1).

Have mercy upon me, O LORD; for I am weak (Psalm 6:2).

************************************************

For more inspirational thoughts, visit Charlotte and Ginger's Spiritual Sundays blog. You'll be glad you did.

Endings and Beginnings

Sometimes, we march into the New Year in good spirits and fine form. We make resolutions and have no doubt we'll meet the tasks before us. Other times, we drag ourselves across the New Year line, vowing to get our act together, yet finding ourselves still making bonehead choices that leave us embarrassed and wondering who we are.

And then there are those years that bring changes to us that we didn't anticipate, nor want, forcing us out of our comfort zone, and into unfamiliar territory.

If you find yourself in either of these places, take heart. All is not lost. Unwanted changes can usher in magical new beginnings; I speak from experience. And those bonehead choices? Well, the villagers may throw stones at you in the public courtyard, but God's mercies are new every morning.... not just on New Year's Day. I, for one, am unworthy of such mercy, but deeply grateful.

The following article is about dealing with unwanted changes that sometimes invade our lives. It was written several years ago, but still rings true in 2010.

Happy New Year to all of my blog friends. May it hold wonderful things for you.

*************************************************