Preg Testing Cows & Learning about Jesus

As a teacher, one of my objectives in my own classroom is to ensure that I take advantage of “teachable moments” as they arise in my classroom. To be fair, I try to take on the same thought process in my own life. I find it peculiar how God chooses to speak to me some days and yesterday was one of those days.

            Living in Montana has been an interesting change for my life. Although I grew up in what I would consider a rural area I have come realize that Montana is much more rural than anywhere I have ever lived. On top of that, I have learned that I have fully adjusted to living in a more urban area over the past few years of my life. Even so, God has chosen this rural way of life to teach me a lot about my life, my desires, and Him.

Yesterday I was at a neighbors ranch while they were administering pregnancy tests on a couple hundred cows. They had informed me this activity should be a part of my “Montana experience.” I was by no means certain this should be a part of any “experience.” But, I followed along. As I sat there watching each cow being herded  down a narrow chute, into a contraption (I have no clue what that device is called.) that would hold them in place while the veterinarian had the not so pleasant job of seeing if each female cow is currently carrying a baby, my mind drifted off to other places. As the cows are herded through the narrow chute they are slightly perturbed. At the end of the chute is the contraption that they must stand enclosed in while the vet checks to see if they are pregnant, a couple of vaccines are given, and information is noted on each individual cow. When they reach this contraption, just beyond one end they can see freedom. Each cow tries to run through this contraption, while the vet quickly closes the gate and traps the cow within it to check her out.

Astonishingly enough I found this to be a lot like our Christian walk. There are times when we have come through a narrow tunnel in life, a challenging place, one where we are poked and prodded, then we see the light at the end of the tunnel and want to run! Run for freedom, run to escape the challenges we have been facing, just run! Then, a door slams, right in front of our face, trapping us inside. Or so we think. However, I believe, it is then, in that little tiny amount of time, where God closes a door, before allowing us to see the light at the end of the tunnel, where He is saying, not yet. Not just yet, you aren’t ready, you haven’t learned your lesson, you are going to miss the point, something, just not yet. If we rush through those moments or phases, simply focused on what’s at the other end of that tunnel, we can miss an important lesson. A lesson that God fully intended us to learn through all of that poking and prodding we faced along that narrow chute. Sometimes we are too busy worrying about what’s on the other side, who is going first, or what is behind us (and cows are too) to stop, learn our lesson, and then keep going. When we make it through that challenge, it is then that God can reveal to us the light at the end of the tunnel. The sun we are now not only seeing, but appreciating, following our challenge.

Yesterday was certainly a step outside of my normal, but one in where I did not want to miss what God intended for me to learn. So, as I face challenging situations and circumstances I will simply realize that maybe the light isn’t for me yet, maybe it’s just a reminder to stop and listen to the poking and prodding so I can enjoy the light when I get there.

I  also called my mom last night to inform her of another first I’d had yesterday. That first would be, cow manure on my clothing. I don’t suggest it; it’s not too lovely. J

Be Blessed! 

Church Nursery

     Although I’m not a parent, I feel as though I got a brief glimpse of what parenting might be like. For those who know him and I, you know that I’ve learned several valuable life lessons from my older brother. This past Sunday at Church I learned a lot and laughed a little, both at and with him.

     Michael has been fortunate to have lots of family and family friends willing and able to care for his daughter for the past two years. I asked him to join me for Church this Sunday and he did. We discussed on our way there whether we’d keep Mary Emily with us or have her go to nursery. I could tell from the conversation he wasn’t too keen on the idea of nursery. He mentioned that she’d been to nursery at another church but I knew even walking in the door he wasn’t certain about leaving her there. Finally we decided for us to hear and understand the sermon it would probably be best if she went to nursery. As I prayed that he’d attend Church with me in the past few weeks, I prayed God would provide no obstacles in him hearing a message that he needed. Mary Emily is absolutely not an obstacle, just a busy lady who needs and deserves our undivided attention. As we signed her in I could tell the fidgeting was beginning. If you know a Marshall, you know our nerves show through fidgeting quite prevalently. We walked in and I told him I was going to escape quickly and for him to come when he could, trying to make the process of dropping her off as easy for her as possible.

     He didn’t take forever to escape, but the second he walked out the door he turned to the window. He turned to the window and stood there, and stood there, . . . and stood there. I finally insisted that we were going to miss church if we didn’t move along. As we walked away, I asked what made it so hard? He just said, “She doesn’t need me and I want her to need me.” I giggled a little inside at how this crazy, I’ll do anything boy, was struggling to leave his two year old in a room with great Godly women for an hour. To say I wasn’t feeling a little trepidation would be a complete lie. I wasn’t having the exact same feelings but I didn’t feel completely at ease either. However, I knew that if I didn’t show confidence there might be a bawling pile of adults in the middle of the nursery hallway.

     I’ve thought of these events several times over the past few days. Prayed for my brother, as fatherhood will be its own set of struggles, heartaches, joy, love, and challenge for him. Then I thought of my Father. My heavenly father.

     I don’t think that leaving Mary Emily in the church nursery was a bad idea at all, if I did I wouldn’t dare have done it. But as I contemplated those events in my mind God brought a thought to me. Anytime I turn into a room or walk through a door full of the unknown and surrounding myself with people whom I don’t know, God is standing at the window. When I surround my life with those whose hearts I don’t know and seek comfort and attention from those I know nothing of, God is standing at the window. God is standing at the window, looking in and saying “WANT ME! NEED ME!” He wants me to want Him! He wants me to need Him!

     This simple task of dropping off my niece at the Church nursery, seeing my brother’s nerves frazzled and knowing the pace of my own heartbeat at that moment, was a simple reminder that God wants me to want him. God wants me to be consumed with him.

     Michael will never know all of the lessons God has taught me through him, but I’m certainly grateful the Lord allows me to call him brother. 

Meatloaf

Isn’t it funny how something so random can bring about so many memories? This past week I made meatloaf in my croc pot. Meatloaf was one of my grandfather’s favorite meals. As I smelled it cooking throughout the day I thought of many fond memories with my sweet grandfather. He loved owls, long before owls became anything more than the background of a camouflage blanket. I believe he loved owls because he contained wisdom much like the wisdom people correlate to the owl.

My oldest memory, or story, that I love about my grandfather is from a time that my family and I spent at Disney World. Although I am too young to remember the story myself my mom use to tell of it quite often. If you know my mom, she steps out of the norm quite frequently. This time she stepped out by having my brother and I dress as Mickey and Minnie Mouse to attend Breakfast with the Stars at Disney World. We were only 3 and 4 and she thought it would be “cute”. Little did she know the fan fare we would receive from every character at the breakfast, how hard my grandparents would laugh and how they would shine with pride through the entire meal.

My fondest memory of my grandfather comes from just a couple of years ago and just weeks before he passed. On a sunny Saturday afternoon my sister-in-law and brother allowed me to spend the day with my wonderful niece Mary Emily. This Saturday wasn’t just any day for my grandfather; it was one of the most dreaded days of college basketball for him. He didn’t particularly enjoy when UK played U of L, as he liked both teams and didn’t really want to see either lose. Grandpa was eating with friends in the dining area at the nursing home he lived at when my Mom and I walked in with Mary Emily. He glowed! He became ever more excited when he realized Mary Emily was also dressed for the game, in appropriate UK attire. He went through the entire dining room, showing everyone his great granddaughter and telling all of them she was UK’s cutest cheerleader. For a humble quiet man like himself, this was quite out of the ordinary. However, nothing made him glow quite like sweet Mary Emily.

We grandpa passed my heart hurt. I had spent many weekends with my Mom, making the drive to Louisville to visit my Grandparents. When he passed, I wouldn’t have any Grandparents there to go visit anymore. As my Mom and I sat reflecting on his passing one day, I told her I knew why Grandpa waited several years to go home after my Grandmother passed away. My Mom asked, why do you think he waited? I certainly believe Grandpa wanted to get to heaven and tell my Grandma, guess who I got to meet!?! Our great granddaughter! Although I desperately wish that both of my grandparents could still be here to celebrate life with, I have no doubt they are enjoying their peaceful and healthy home with the Lord. As time passes I don’t really miss them less, they simply make me long for Jesus more. Because where Jesus is, is where my Grandparents are too!  

I love Cheeto Stains & Mulch Covered Feet

Today I began thinking about something in an entirely different way. Something that I've probably not put much thought into before. Being an aunt has turned my world upside down. While playing at the park with my beloved niece, I began to think about her joy. We walked around in circles, played with a balloon, and slid down the slide, probably thirty times. As I heard her giggle and saw her smile I thought of her joy. I love that her joy is pure. . .

She has pure joy!

I found myself following along behind her praying for her joy to always stay pure.

Actually, I found myself begging God to not ever let the world taint her joy.

At one point she tripped in the mulch (nothing life threatening) and I had to stop myself from grabbing her up, throwing my arms around her & wanting to protect her from the harsh realities of the world we live in.

(I openly admit I'm over the top & especially for her!)

On my drive home, after dropping her off (and already missing her) I found myself praying that God would protect her from every pitfall of our society.

I know, I know, this is completely irrational and impossible, but I want this so bad for her!

I treasure that sweet princess and although I've learned a lot from my missteps I found myself trying to persuade God that I'd messed up enough for her and I, and this way she won't have to know the pain this world has to offer.

I never thought I'd love cheeto stains on a white t-shirt and mulch covering my feet, but today those two things were a sincere blessing as I spent the afternoon simply being Aunt Shannon.

Praise God for cheeto stains and mulch covered feet!

Sweet Blessings to you! & may you have PURE JOY!

Two Years ... Haiti Earthquake

Two Years …

It is hard to believe it has been 2 years since the devastating Haiti earthquake. Two weeks and eight days ago, I was leaving Haiti, coming back to the United States. Little did I know, eight days later I would be staring at the TV in disbelief at the destruction that had occurred a mere week after my leaving. Roads that I had just walked on, were now filled with the debris of collapsed buildings and homes.

Today I was thinking about, what is it that I really love about Haiti. I began looking back at my time there, to think of the events that have truly stood out to me.

One particular moment comes to mind; it is a simple event but reminds me of so much, in terms of God’s love for His children.

As an intern for Northwest Haiti Christian Mission one summer, we had a movie night. I can’t even remember what movie we watched, because I’m not sure I saw most of it. Everyone pitched in to prepare the courtyard for movie night, this includes moving benches, putting up a giant sheet and popping popcorn, to name a few things.

When the gates opened, as the evening hours approached, dozens of children started sprinkling in. A wide range of ages, from tiny little fellas to young adults started wondering through the gates. Immediately, upon watching this invasion take place, I’m taken back to the one dance I went to throughout my entire thirteen years as a student with Scott County Schools. Being the shy, quiet kid most of my life, a social gathering was my idea of pure torture. I went to one, never again though. (No, I did not even attend my junior or senior prom.) Obviously, although I was only I middle school, that one dance, a mere two hours of my life, made a big impression. What do I remember most about this isolating event of my middle school years? Feeling as if I was living within the years of segregation, except this segregation was between male and female, and also realizing I’m not the only shy person in middle school. (Although, this event made me realize others are not as outgoing as they might seem, I also did not allow it to get me out of my shell.)

Watching the young people come through the gates of the mission for movie night, I couldn’t help but visualize those two impressionable hours of my middle school existence. I noticed that both girls and guys had clothed themselves in their finest attire, made sure every strand of hair was fashioned into place, & of course, worn their most prized shoes. Precisely what I remember from my middle school dance experience (I so wish I could remember what I wore, I’m sure it would cause uproarious laughter from even the humblest of critics).

The great divide could definitely be considered a theme for the evening. There were those few, most gregarious, who decided to defy the odds and cross the boundaries set up by the mindset of peer judgments. However, this was soon put to the background of my thoughts as the movie got underway.

Darkness had just taken over, the perfect timing for an outdoor movie event. Everyone was settled into a seat, popcorn in hand, staring at the movie screen as if it was a spectacular splendor. Not long after everyone was settled, I sat down in the back row, more people watching than movie watching. I didn’t even notice the young boy as he approached, then I felt hands on my lap. Moments later, a little boy had crawled into my lap, settled in for a long winters nap (on a summer evening). This sweet little boy crawled up into my lap, out of pure exhaustion. He was barely seated before he was fast asleep.

Like I said, I don’t remember the movie that we watched that night, but I do remember staring at this little boy, thinking, who is he? Where did he come from? Is he here alone? Numerous thoughts ran through my mind, during that couple of hours, as a loud movie played, but a little boy slept peacefully.

As I’ve thought back on this scene numerous times, I’m reminded of God’s love for his children. That sweet little boy had no clue who I was, he saw rest in the arms of a stranger. He knew, that there must be some kind of safety in being at the mission, simply a place where he could find rest, but he was too little to understand much more than that.

Is this not what God wants of his children, to find solace & rest in his presence? We aren’t asked to name the books of the Bible, to share our knowledge of Bible trivia, we’re not asked to know anything, except the grace, love & mercy of a tender & compassionate Father, that loves His children.

This little boy, whom I don’t even know the name of, reminded me, of the simple pleasure of being able to always find rest. How grateful that I am, that I can always find rest in the Father. No matter how little I know, or how little I do, His arms are always open & his lap is always ready.

As I think about Haiti today, & everyday, my prayer is that they may know nothing more, than the love of the Father. That they may know, when they’re weary and need rest, His arms are always open.

Haiti … Forever in my Heart