Starting the first day of Spring, change starts. One by one, each boy turns older. It keeps up until the first day of Autumn – that’s just how these boys’ birthdays fall. Each birthday, God says, “Change is coming.”
This coming change is heralded by the flowers in the garden – a beautiful reminder of easy and hard changes coming. Each Spring The Cleveland Pear Trees try to bloom too early, not believing snow is coming. Then blooms the lilac bedazzling with it’s aroma, breaking out always on the edge of a hard frost. In the garden, it comes quietly, softly. Sometimes through the mess of weeds that need pulling. First the bearded Iris’s, then the yellow and purple Baptista and Spider’s Knot, which gladly opens its blooms early in the day only to fold up in the afternoon sun. The peonies take a safe approach, hoarding its blossoms until assured of constant temperatures they burst open in God-designed glory until the May rains bow them low with tiny unmerciful droplets. Somewhere in all this, the tulips bloom while God whispers, “Change is coming.”
My fourth son graduated from college last week. . . . He moves out in a few weeks. . . . Change is coming. Change has been coming since my first breath, since each child’s first breath. There are so many I Remember Moments stored dear and deep in my heart. Little boy voices telling me they’ll never leave me, how they’ll love me forever and for always. . . mama, will you marry me. Mama, will you sing me to sleep. Little arms wrapping around my neck, trusting, loving, unable to imagine life without me. Even then, God was whispering, “Change is coming. . . .”
“Mom where’s my soccer jersey? Mom, what’s for dinner? Don’t touch me, Mom! Where’s the keys, Mom? No, I don’t want to hear The Parable of the Towels, Mom, but he stands there listening, eyes desperately wanting to roll backwards. . . . and God whispers, “Change is coming. . .“
Yeah! I miss the little boy – the little boy who’d go to sleep to my stories, holding fast to my love – and forgetting moments where I disappointed. Each morning, they woke with fresh mercies, fresh love. I’ve five sons worth of those memories – they don’t want to hear them, so I don’t tell them. I just remember the little boys I used to know – and some days, some moments, I pull those memories out and savor.
Change came. . . hands-off and hands-up change. . . and still more comes. These boys have grown into men, one by one, in their very own way. They have grown into men walking out their God-designed plan, choosing to either write their story with God or not. I am no longer invited to proof-read and make suggestions for edits which is as it should be. . . . Even in the hands-off and hands-up, change comes, always coming.
Soon the evening primroses will be telling me it’s 8 p.m., the tiger lilies will loom over the garden, the bergamot will try to elbow its way into every corner of the garden and the butterflies will come play in the zinnias. My children’s children come into the garden now where they will learn to water the seeds, watch them grown and learn about change at the same time they learn to taste a chocolate mint leaf. . . and God still whispers, “Change is coming.”
Change is coming. . . God tells me so. My story is not yet finished. I still continue to grow, to change, hopefully, into who God designed me to be. Not settling into a cushion. No arriving until I cross over into heaven. Growing from glory to glory. God has nudged, waited, teaching, always teaching until I now understand I cannot grow into His goodness without change, the easy and the hard change.
“We can all draw close to him with the veil removed from our faces.
And with no veil we all become like mirrors
who brightly reflect the glory of the Lord Jesus.
We are being transfigured
into his very image
as we move
from one brighter level of glory to another.
And this glorious transfiguration
comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.”
~ 2 Corinthians 3:18 (TPT).
Change is coming. . . He says so.
If I want to be who He designed me to be,
to know the depth and breadth of His love,
to see the bottle of tears He’s collected
to rejoice in the redeeming stories
of my children and my children’s children,
to live in a kingdom where
the intentions of my heart are revealed
to those who didn’t believe,
to see a world with no night
and God’s light better than sunlight,
to see God’s full bow,
not just the part we see this side of heaven.
If I want to finish the race and throw myself
into His arms at the finish line
to see an angel’s wings,
all those eyes on His chariot,
and know what the new Jerusalem will look like,
to hear Him call me by the name He gave me
before I was born
and feel the love of a Father without the broken world
and discover all the answers to all my questions
and see a street paved in gold,
hug the daughter who went to heaven before me
and meet my great-grandmother Mary Edna
and Joan of Arc,
to hear a lion purr
and scratch his nose without fear,
then I need God’s grace
to walk the changes coming.
Remember Me Monday: #39 & Linky
“I’ll make a list of God’s gracious dealings,
all the things God has done that need praising,
All the generous bounties of God,
his great goodness to the family of Israel—
~ Isaiah 63:7, The Message
In the Old Testament, God repeatedly, quietly and loudly, tells his children, “You have forgotten me!” (Jeremiah 3:32, Ezekiel 22:12, to name a few). It’s a heart cry from a father to a child who has forgotten all the love, all the saving, helping, little and big blessings – and it leaves me stunned when I realize our Father, the creator of the universe, who knows things I cannot begin to fathom, who authors storylines that leave me amazed, delights in all of us so much, He cries out, “Remember Me.”
While every day is a Remember God Day, I am inviting you to join me on Monday mornings to come by and remember what God has done for you, for your family. Maybe God sent a cardinal darting out in front of you, as if to tell you, “I’m here,” or broke a child’s fever after you laid it all down at His feet in a 2 a.m. bedside vigil. Maybe He stood with you in the wait of a prayer sent out, or brought someone you loved to Christ. Maybe He healed your broken heart, gave your courage, or you gave Him your dreams as a love offering only to have Him give them back in an unimaginable way. Maybe God helped you survive to bedtime after a crazy Monday, or forgive yourself for missing it with your kiddos –– Whatever it is, let’s Remember Him. . . in a “Remember Me Monday” love letter.
“My mouth will tell of your righteousness,
Of your salvation all the day long,
Though I know not its measure.
I will come and proclaim your mighty acts, O Sovereign Lord”
~ Psalm 71:15-16.
Let us delight in Him by telling the stories of what He’s done! If you wrote a blog post remembering what He’s done for you, join the linky. If you didn’t but still want to praise Him for what He’s done – write it in the comment section. Then visit a comment before or after yours! One of the beautiful things about the blogging community is the relationships it builds!
Rules? Write long or short, a list or a story, include photos or not. Just Remember Him and what He has done, and let the gratitude of your heart guide you. Let’s make Monday so Rejoice, that the goodness of God spills into the rest of the week!
***All photos marked with Muddy Photography or © Blue Cotton Memory or used within Blue Cotton Memory blog(s) belong Blue Cotton Memory. Going forward, photos will be marked with Muddy Photography.