Tag: Middle School

Little Man and Little Miss

Published on by marycatherinethomasLeave a comment

“May you live to enjoy your grandchildren.” Psalm 128:6a (NLT)

I remember when I was in my late twenties. I prayed that I would see my children grown, married and have children. This was my selfish prayer, one I wanted more than anything. I often wondered what my own Mother would have thought and done with my girls. Those are the kinds of things you think of when you have lost your parent at an early age.

When my first grandson was due I began to write about waiting for Little Man. After he was born, I wrote about Little Man lessons. Then I did the same when Little Miss arrived a couple of years later.

Last week Little Man started high school Not so little anymore. Today, Little Miss started middle school. Again, not so little. Both are tall and beautiful (handsome).

Time goes by much too fast. My young man plays the piano beautifully. Self taught. Brilliant mind. A sense of humor that can cause tears to run down my cheeks. A kind young man. A worship-er. Someone who can rough house his grandfather one minute and snuggle up to him the next.

Little Miss? My princess. She is everything a young woman needs to be and more. Super soccer player. Kind hearted to everyone and all little creatures. She is tender and caring. Artistic, creative and always willing to help. Someone who stands her ground, yet will defend friends and family.

Yes, I know I am partial. That’s what Grammy’s are, biased, partial, seeing the best.

What have I learned? Too many things. I see reflections of my children. I see their fathers, my son in laws. I see them figuring out things in their lives, and yet being available to give me the attention that grandmother’s need. They are the future and I am confident they will lead and teach and be strong . My prayers have been they serve the Lord with joy and courage and strength. So far my prayer is being answered.

I Think My Record Has a Scratch On It

Published on by marycatherinethomas2 Comments

“For God’s gifts and his call can never be withdrawn.” Romans 11:29 (NLT)

I am old enough to remember spending my afternoons and weekends listening to 45’s and albums. In middle school, I loved the Monkees. This group helped me in many ways cope with the death of my Mom. I had all of their albums and played them over and over. On their first album was the song, “The Last Train to Clarksville”, which had a scratch in it. There was one point in the song that made it sound like the singer had a case of the burps, where it just kept replaying a note. The needle was stuck in the groove from the scratch. It was at this point where you either put a penny on the top of the needle to give it more weight to keep tracking or you gently put a finger on top of the needle to keep it tracking. To this day, whenever I hear this song my mind automatically puts the scratch part of the song in my mind. I smile whenever this happens.

We all have records that we play in our mind. Not the actual vinyl albums, but records of how we feel about ourselves or what has been told or yelled at us through the years. These records replay negative things in our mind and follow us through life, unfortunately.

How often do you listen to ‘those’ records? Recently I have listened to mine and it has been stuck on the same note. For me, that note is feeling inadequate. These notes stick in my brain, and they clog my heart and soul. In these times, I cannot clearly see or hear God’s voice telling me that I am enough. I fail to hear God’s voice that Yes, I can write, yes I can minister. Mainly that I CAN.

What I have once more learned that when I focus on the skip in the recording instead of allowing the Lord to rest His finger on the needle of my heart so that the skip is barely noticeable, I can continue with the song that is my life.

God’s finger He places on us is a gentle touch. He doesn’t want us to listen to bad recordings. He has more for us. He has the beautiful harmony that He has created for us. His recordings bring us life and fullness of joy. When I was in middle school we had a stack of 45’s. We would go through that stack and discover songs we had forgotten we had. We’d play them and remember why they were at the bottom of the stack, they were just bad. The same is true in our life, (especially mine), when we reach down and play the recordings that do not give us life, do not draw us closer to God and to what He has planned for us.

I, once more, have to take the record I have been listening to and toss it or better still, break it so it cannot be taken out again.