I am writing to you on Sunday afternoon since this post needs to go up first thing Monday morning and I am typing away on my laptop from Jackson and Annabeth’s room in our home. It’s the room where Keith and I get the best internet hookup. I like it anyway because it is filled with expressions of the only two kids on the earth I love as much as the two that I birthed. From Annabeth’s twin bed where I’m sitting, I can see a pink and green doll house, a blue and yellow race track, a dark green, fairly-convincing rubber lizard, a kids’ brightly colored exercise bike, a cardboard playhouse and a cardboard castle. It’s full on here in this room and, boy, has it had a work out in the last week.
Keith and I are blessed out of our minds to do lots of life with our grandkids because they only live about 20 minutes from our front door. Delightfully, their voices often reverberate off of these walls and their sweet feet are slap-happy on these wooden floors on a regular basis. We get to have sleepovers on occasions through out the year but once every summer Keith and I have them for the better part of a week and let their darling parents get some time together all by themselves. This last week was that segment of time – Camp Bibby we call it – for the summer of 2013. We kissed them goodbye on Friday night after a good, solid 5-day dose of them. I hate to admit to a small lump in my throat when they drove off with Amanda and Curtis, although I needed a nap in the worst way. Grin. It may be of some encouragement to you mothers of young children that, on Day 1, I did not shower until 3:00 PM. Yes, I do indeed remember what it was like to be a busy young mom whose life is not her own and when I forget, my two sweeties help me remember. Good grief, I would not trade them for anything in this world.
We do not have the time or space here for all the new quotes that have been added to my repertoire in the last week. Jackson and Annabeth are each hilarious, even when they don’t mean to be, so I try to have a pen nearby at all times. Annabeth announced to me on Friday afternoon that, when she grows up, she most definitely does NOT want to have a baby. “Why not?” I asked. “Because you have to go to the hospital,” she replied. And I thought to myself, whoa baby, that’s not all you have to do. As my mama always said, you also have to walk through the valley of the shadow of death. Translation: you think you’re going to die but, ordinarily, you do not, although at times your husband could be in considerable harm’s way if he spouts another word. Of course, I kept these thoughts to myself.
Annabeth paused for just a moment then spoke back up. “I just want a chihuahua and a cat.”
And that was that.
Jackson asked me how old I was while he was here because I recently had a birthday. He’s asked me that kind of thing before and it always ends up following the trail of whether or not I will still be his Bibby when he is in college. Curtis’s grandmother died a couple of years ago and I think he’s got it in his seven year-old head that grandmothers are tenuous creatures, here today, gone tomorrow. So, I said to him, “You know, Jackson, both your grandmothers are actually pretty young to have a grandkid as old as you. Because we all started so early, I think you can probably assume we’ll be around a while and see you grow up.” He sat on that a few moments then said, “Bibby, that makes you a rookie grandma. Do you know what a rookie is, Bibby?” Ah, yes, I do, Mister. I was a rookie mom with your mommy and a rookie grandma with you and I cannot think of two people on the planet through whom I’d rather be cast into those auspicious, busy, and often humbling roles.
I guess you’re wondering what all of this has to do with our Scripture memory. Well, I am getting to that right now. We have a daily verse at Camp Bibby and Psalm 32:9 out of the New Century Bible was our verse for Day 3 and the immediate favorite and clear winner for the fastest memorization. I taught the whole verse to Annabeth and Jackson but we only memorized part of it. Perhaps you will see why Jackson all but claimed it as his life verse. Kids totally love this kind of thing:
“Don’t be like a…donkey.” Psalm 32:9a
It made them almost as happy as talking about bathroom sounds. If I heard this verse once out of their mouths since Wednesday, I heard it 50 times. They could tell you what it means, too. I’ll stick the phrase back in the wider Scripture segment so that you’ll know what it means, too:
8 The LORD says, “I will make you wise and show you where to go. I will guide you and watch over you.
9 So don’t be like a horse or donkey, that doesn’t understand. They must be led with bits and reins,
or they will not come near you.”
Jackson would tell you that it means that God doesn’t want to have to tie us all up, or sit on us, or be all hard on us to get us to come to Him and to walk in His gracious and good will for our lives. He doesn’t want to have to make us obey Him so He can bless us. His deep desire is that we’d want to go with Him because we know that He is always for us, always leading us to triumph, always trustworthy, always right, and forever wanting to crown us with love and compassion and lead us away from bondage and such unnecessary harm.
I know it’s basic. But my mind’s been on the basics this last week with a seven year-old and a four year-old either one foot from me or on my person. I guess the question I’m throwing out on the table this week is this: Why do we continue to fight God and lash about in His grasp like He’s a big Taker instead of a Giver? What is it we think He’s trying to rob us of? To whom have we compared Him so that we’ve assumed we cannot trust Him?
Don’t be so stubborn, the psalmist is saying. Cooperate and go with God some place beautiful. Some place almost magical.
Revel in the two preceding verses in the same psalm (32), this time from the NIV:
6 Therefore let all the faithful pray to You
while You may be found;
surely the rising of the mighty waters
will not reach them.
7 You are my hiding place;
You will protect me from trouble
and surround me with songs of deliverance.
Surround sound. Oh, if our spiritual ears could only be opened for a few glorious minutes, what a musical score we’d hear all around us. To go with Jesus is to go the way of deliverance. The way of music. The way of symphonies. The way of ascent amid mighty rising waters. So, I’m going with Jackson in my memory work this round:
Beth, Houston. So don’t be like a horse or donkey, that doesn’t understand. They must be led with bits and reins, or they will not come near you. Psalm 32:9 NCV
So, what’s yours?
You are loved around here, Sister. We are honored to serve you.
Tags: Scripture Memory 2013