18 February 2011

The Gift of Memory


I remember I was great with child.  Third baby boy.  Carting the other two through WinCo on less sleep than I thought I could bear.

I wondered where God was.  Why He was allowing me to suffer in this way.  Who could be asked to care for little children and not be able to sleep?

And to make it worse, I felt awful about my appearance.  Huge, exhausted, discouraged...those words do not a pretty Mama make.


But I get to WinCo to get food and this old war vet without an arm walks near us.  He looks at Conner, the oldest at three and tells him that he has a pretty mama.

Again in the dairy section he sees us, gives a kind (not at all rude or presumptuous) smile and confirms the boys' mama is pretty and they should be thankful.

Then we're bagging the groceries and he stops once more to tell them they're lucky they have a pretty mama and to make sure and tell her that.

I'm nearly in tears.  'Cause I know God used him to speak to me.  About His thoughts toward me at a very challenging time in my life.

Now I try not to forget.


Another picture, years before the WinCo incident, returns often as well.

Taking my Friday stop at the coffee stand on my way to teach 5th and 6th graders.  I'm great with child that time, too.  Driving in a borrowed car of my parents'.  Wondering how we're going to make it financially when this baby comes.  Me, the money-maker while my husband's in Seminary.


I'm listening to Focus on the Family and they're talking about God's provision.  When I reach the pick-up window to get my coffee and hand over my three dollars the lady looks blankly at me and mutters something. "What?"  I turn the radio down.  "It's paid for."  I'm confused and she can tell.  "The person before you paid for it."

I barely get to the school for all the tears that just keep coming.  The little act at the right time tells me God has not forgotten us.  He will provide.  He always provides.


Memory's a gift. 


We hold on to past provision knowing that He always keeps His promises.  His mercies new every morning, His faithfulness reaching to the skies.






photos: enjoying a few hours of snow here this week