SAVE THE WORM!

Have you ever noticed that after a good hard rain or storm worms appear? It is kind of gross, really!

This morning in the parking lot, I saw a couple with their child looking at the ground. The curious part of me went to see what was capturing their attention when I saw the little girl lean down and gently pick up a worm then carefully and tenderly placed it in the grass.

"I saved a worm!", she exclaimed.

How sweet...but it was a worm! Who cares about worms? They live in the dirt, are squirmy and aren't exactly cute or pretty. How could such a cute little girl care about a lowly little worm?

Why would God want to save a worm like Me?

Job 25: 2-6

2 “Dominion and awe belong to God; he establishes order in the heights of heaven. 3 Can his forces be numbered? On whom does his light not rise? 4 How then can a mortal be righteous before God? How can one born of woman be pure? 5 If even the moon is not bright and the stars are not pure in his eyes, 6 how much less a mortal, who is but a maggot— a human being, who is only a worm!”

What a Difference A Year Makes

As my children grew into teenagers it became very evident to me that the choices that they now would make were life-changing decisions that could affect the rest of their lives. These decisions could be positive ones but it was the decisions that could effect them negatively that I greatly feared. As new drivers they could drive to fast and have a wreck, they could be influenced by the wrong people, be in the wrong places at the wrong time or choose to do something in which they just thought they were too invincible to be affected. As a parent, we all know what can go wrong if you are not careful.


I would hold my breath every time they came to me and said, "Mom, I need to talk to you." I always dreaded this statement, fearing what made them NEED to talk with me. Teenagers don't NEED to talk to you unless they have a problem with a friend or a homework assignment or they just need money. But for that split second I always feared something worse until...

The Pain of Childbirth

You may think that the pain of childbirth is in the actual birth itself. I beg to differ. I believe the pain of childbirth comes much later.

I will admit that when my children were much younger there were times when I couldn't wait until they turned 18 and my job as parent would be over. There would be no more lunches to make, no more battles to fight, no more laundry to fold, no more worrying and...no more "Calgon, Take Me Away" moments! Peace and Quiet would reign once more!

And then, around their senior year of high school, this attitude appears.

You thought middle school drama was bad? Dealing with sagging jeans, short skirts, bare bellies, underwear hanging out and what type of bathing suit they were going to wear that summer, was bad? How about dealing with the negotiations over curfews, driving and dating? Oh yeah, even the "Why do I have to go to church? No one in the youth group likes me anyway!" attitude.

No, the attitude I am speaking of is the one that starts with "I can't wait until I turn 18" and ends with "I AM 18 years old AND I can do whatever I WANT because I AM AN ADULT!!!!"

This is the beginning of true labor pains!

Token of Love

Gardenias were my mother's favorite flower. I am not sure how or why they were planted in our yard but our house was surrounded by 6ft high gardenia bushes. In the summers, our home smelled of gardenias and were always displayed on an end table, nightstand, or countertop.

I never really appreciated the flower until many years later. I believe my mother's love for the flower grew from the love she and my father shared.

My father would always pick the first gardenia bloom and place them in a small vase besider her bed. Imagine waking with the morning light to the sweet aroma of gardenia and opening your eyes to see such a simple but perfect gift sitting on the table beside your bed, looking as though the blossom were saying, "Good morning, Love!" My father would also pick the last gardenia bloom and give it sweetly to my mother. He would come in while she was cooking dinner and wrap his arms around her offering the beautiful ivory jewel to her. I believe my mother gave a little more of her heart to him with each bloom and so their love grew and grew. This sweet token of love is one of my fondest childhood memories.

The aroma that would fill our home and the love that bloomed there reminds me of the expression of love and respect that Mary showed to Jesus when she annointed his feet with perfume and dryed them with her hair (Jn. 12:1-3). What a beautiful sight it must of been to see her express her love for our Savior, her kneeling before him, gently touching the oil to his skin. Then looking upon the face of Jesus...seeing the hint of a smile and the look of admiration reflected in his eyes. The perfume would have filled the room bringing everyone in unison in the event as it unfolded.

Whether you were a participant or just an observer, your every sense of sight and smell would join you with Christ in this ceremonial annointing so deeply that you would feel the warmth move through your heart and soul as the oil flowed over his body. And for this short, brief moment you were so full and so thankful for being a part of this special token of love.