Reaping the Harvest

May 29, 2009

(This is my June devotional for my women's ministry newsletter.)

Growing up, I used to pick buckets full of blackberries at my great-grandparents’ house. I would suffer the scratches and cuts that the thorns would inflict on my tender little arms to get the sweet reward of the delicious berries. (I probably ate more than I managed to provide to my Momo for cobbler-making.) I enjoyed reaping the harvest that my Momo and Popo had pain-stakingly planted.

Flash-forward 25+ years…I now have my own blackberry bushes on the back of my driveway. I just happened to discover them one year when Jason had been a little lax on weed-eating one summer. I did not plant these bushes, yet my family gets to enjoy the labors of someone else’s hands, just like I did when I was a child.

As Christians, you and I are the harvest of the work of many seen and unseen hands. As you think of all the people who had a hand in your spiritual development, you probably think of pastors, Sunday school teachers, parents, grandparents, etc., that helped you mature in your faith. You get to reap the harvest of all the work they put into you. Your faith is the product of their time and labor.

In John 4:37-38, Jesus says “Thus the saying 'One sows and another reaps' is true… Others have done the hard work, and you have reaped the benefits of their labor." Aren’t you glad that someone put their effort into you? I am so thankful to all the hands that helped shape me into who I have become in Jesus Christ. I pray that the lives that God has seen fit for me to touch will be filled with the harvest of faith and love for Jesus. What kind of spiritual legacy are you planting for those around you and for generations to come?

God Bless You!—Lianne

Mission Impossible--or NOT!

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

My nemesis:Our battleground:
The intended beneficiaries:My solution:The result:Oh yeah! The ol' greased pole trick works! He looked like a tiny, hairy fireman sliding down that pole. The look on the squirrel's furry little face when he slid down was priceless. He tried about 7 times during breakfast this morning and then took his slippery little paws elsewhere. It was awesome.

If this story was not interesting to you, maybe these pictures will be:

Luke with a big booty (Yes, that's what we call it. What about you? And, no, he wasn't pretending to be me.):A baby riding in a dump truck:No? Well, you can't say I didn't try.

Last Day of School Celebration

So my awesome, wonderful, relaxing, nap-filled, productive, quiet and lonely days as a SAHM with kids in school are now officially OVER. The kids are out for the summer! Yea!

We headed to Guthrie J. Smith Park in Fayette, Alabama to celebrate.

We started out with a picnic.We fed the ducks.Emma and Luke started a rock collection.We thought deep thoughts and contemplated life.We may or may not have located Pooh Bear's tree in the Hundred Acre Wood.We took a goofy family picture.They ran. (I watched.)Luke learned to use my camera.They played on the playground.The sky started to look threatening.They crashed--HARD.

"Under His Wings"

May 21, 2009--I have not had a chance to post this week, so I thought I'd share a devotional I wrote last May. I hope you enjoy it. It's my favorite one that I've written.

We have a little red birdhouse in our backyard that my Daddy built for Luke last year. We were delighted to see a family of bluebirds take up residence in it earlier this Spring. We anxiously awaited the hatching of five tiny eggs and daily checked in to see how things were going since the babies hatched. We continue to watch the parents’ tireless efforts to keep those five mouths fed.

We have particularly noted how diligently the Daddy bluebird works to feed his hatchlings. He is constantly flying in and out of the house with a meal for his children. He watches us warily and closely when we peer in at the babies. Their well-being and safety seem to be his number one priority.

Whenever the Daddy flies in to feed the babies, they chirp for all they are worth. They continue to cry out for him long after he has flown off in search of more food for them. The babies have to trust that he will soon return and satisfy their most basic need. In my mind, I imagine they eagerly anticipate their next encounter with their Daddy.

Watching this father with his children reminds me of our relationship with our Heavenly Father. Psalms 91:4 says “He will cover you with his feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge; His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.” How many times we cry out to God and He holds us close in His comforting embrace! He tirelessly watches over us and protects us from those who seek to do us harm. We never have to worry about Him not satisfying our needs. He has already given us everything we need and provides for us bountifully. We should always eagerly anticipate our next encounter with our Abba (Hebrew for “Daddy”), our Father, as well. He eagerly awaits us.

God Bless You!--Lianne

Is it just me...

or does my son look like that kid on that Hallmark card?


That's what I thought, too. (p.s. Do you know how hard it was to get the boy NOT to smile in the picture?)

I'll be back later when I have time to write an actual post.

Look out! Here comes Monday!

Just an observation.

This plastic clock is hanging on the wall in the Fellowship Hall at my church. Oh, how I wish it wasn't!

If you actually have to print on your product that it is "high-class," it probably isn't. The clock hands in the middle of Jesus' chest skeeve me out pretty bad, too.

Happy 50th post to me. I'm not sure this one should count.

Saved by the bell.

I went to the closet Tuesday morning and tried to find something that made me look authoritative, but not mean...  Confident, but not bossy...  Comfortable, but not clueless.  Okay, outfit done.

Time to go...

...to school.

I'd already dropped the kids off before 8:00 a.m.  It was time for me to go fill in for an hour for Emma's teacher, Mrs. Leathers, while she went to the middle school for her son's awards day.

I prayed, "God, please let me at least look like I know what I'm doing.  Please help me not to be nervous."

I won't lie--I was scared.  I have had people tell me that they thought I should be a teacher.  I have always said that I didn't think it was for me.  The truth of the matter is that the idea of teaching has always scared me.

I walked calmly to the end of the hall.  Mrs. Leathers smiled a greeting to me as I walked in.  The kids were still in homeroom, so Emma and her classmates were there.  She grinned and turned her face away from me.  I guess it's never too early to be embarrassed of your mom.

Mrs. Leathers gave them an assignment, told them to be respectful or else, and told me what time they went to reading and what the assignment would be for the reading class. 

"Easy street," I said to myself.  "I can do this."  I plastered a pleasant smile on my face and kept going.

At 9:15, Emma's class left to go to their reading teacher.  Emma waited until everyone else had left and meandered over to me and smiled up at me and gave me a big hug.  She had to break it off abruptly because she saw some of the next class starting to come in.  Wouldn't want to get caught hugging Mom...

After I introduced myself, I handed out the test papers and watched the young minds at work.  One boy handed me his copy of Diary of a Wimpy Kid, "in case you get bored," he said.  I watched those kids like a hawk.  No one's cheating on my watch!

When the first boy turned in his paper 10 minutes later, I was a little uneasy.  Had she told me what to tell them to do when they finished?  I think she did...what was it?  I drew a blank.  Luckily, little Mr. Speedy Reader went back to his desk and put his head down. 

"Okay, I still got this...16 more papers to go...surely they won't all finish that fast."

Wrong.

"Must.Keep.Smiling."

They all finished pretty quickly, save for 2.  They asked me if they could read books from Mrs. Leathers' shelf.  I asked the cute, freckled red-haired girl if they had a reading story in their textbooks to do.  With wide, blinky eyes, she shook her head and said, "No ma'am.  We are finished with our books."  When I asked if they had vocabulary or something they were supposed to work on, she just shrugged her shoulders.

I let them get some books to read, but the nagging question of assignment kept dogging me.  I looked around the class...who looks trustworthy to ask about this? 

Not the one picking at his scab..."Here's a band-aid, buddy.  Let's cover that up."

Not the one drawing Star Wars fighter crafts..."You've got serious talent there, mister."

Not the one who's been sharpening his pencil for 4.5 minutes...  "Hey, I think you've got it now.  Have a seat."

Not the cute red-haired girl...I think she's trying too hard to look innocent.  Is she pulling one over on me?

Finally, a little girl came up to me and said, "You know, you look just like Emma's mom."  I replied with a smile, "I am Emma's mom."  She said, "Oh, I thought you looked like her.  I saw you out with your kids one day.  You look different."

I asked her about the reading textbook and she assured me that there wasn't anything left for them to do there.  (Boy, I hope she was telling the truth!)  I thought about what she'd said about me looking different.  Was it because I was dressed up in my teacher outfit, wearing make-up...or was it the fact that I was smiling? 

I hadn't stopped smiling in about 90 minutes at that point.  My jaws ached.  I hadn't done this much smiling in a very long time.  Granted, no one smiles ALL the time when they are with their own kids, but how much time do I spend barking orders, sighing, and complaining that I'm not being listened to?  Oh, gracious, if that child saw me at Wal-Mart with my kids, she probably is scared to death of me!  She's probably waiting for me to start yelling impatiently at her, too.

Ouch.  Self-examination time.  What I see isn't pretty.

So, I guess that I learned something at school today.  The kids I kept an eye on may or may not have learned anything, but I sure did.