When I zoned out at school as a child, I went to other places and was totally infatuated with the plans that I imagined in my mind. At that stage of my life I was totally oblivious to the lack of reality that I was seeking and at times longed for….
Things like:
- Being a trapeze artist in the Ringling Bros. Circus
- owning every breed of dog imaginable and all of them being incredibly intelligent and well trained.. you know, the kind that would do more than just tricks… things like finding Timmy in the well…
- being a Native American during the days of the wild west
- living in a little house on the prairie… quite possibly with the Ingalls family
It was years later that I realized the reality behind the imagination…
Things like:
- trapeze artists aren’t in high demand and who knows how much a trapeze artist’s salary is…even if it is good, you have to be somewhat athletic, I would assume?
- a house full of dogs means smelly, even if you constantly groom and I’ve not had one dog who can do anything more than the regular “sit” and “stay”…. no, none of them ever learned to stay… and now that I think about it, they only sit when I say it when they are already sitting
- To be a Native American in the wild west would not have been glamorous but likely quite dangerous
- Living out a year’s worth of Little House on the Prairie episodes in real life is bound to place a normal emotionally healthy person over the edge.
I figured most of these out by the time I was in High School but the last one, the Little House one… that one just stunned me a few months ago when my daughter recently spent her birthday money to complete her collection of each season of the series. I never realized how many tears Michael Landon had to squeeze out each week or so. Now, I’m not knocking the series at all… still love it… but when you watch them back to back you realize what troubles those people had. The bullying, the blindness, the ruined crops, the death, the orphans, the overweight people, the illnesses, the storms… Mercy! and I thought I wanted to be in the midst of it…
However, there was one episode where a dying mother asked Charles Ingalls to help her find a home for her children. In his heart, he wanted to keep them but knew in his head that it wasn’t possible. He searched and searched but found nothing… no one wanted to take three children. He finally decided to give them each a home separately. Once again, his heart was aching because he wanted to keep them …. more tears. In the end there was a happy home for all together.
I experienced a tiny bit of that emotional Little House episode this summer… A year ago I had a grandmother come to me to share with me the news of a her terminal illness. It broke my heart because she had full custody of her grandson. Her family taking him was not an option so she asked me to help her find a good home for him. Now, I am a Children’s Pastor… I know nothing about this type of situation except that I wanted to grab him, build an extra bedroom and take him home but that was not to be….As it worked out she was able to find someone… only to find out that the situation wasn’t what she had hoped for. So, she asked me and another lady from our church to help again. This time though, time was precious….. she was growing worse.
My story was a bit different though. I had technology to get the word out and I had people longing for a child. The outcome was good. We found a family…. friends of mine and for them it was an answer to a 20 year old prayer. He is loved much by the family.
I have often thought about the grandmother. Her act was bold, courageous and selfless. She thought only of this child and his well being. I’m pretty sure, if I was placed in the same situation, that I probably wouldn’t be able to do that.
I taught the kids tonight about Moses as a baby. His mother, in some ways, did almost that same selfless act. She had no way to know that when she hid her baby that her life wouldn’t be ended should he be found… she also had no idea when she placed him in the basket and sent him on his way that he wouldn’t drown… she also had no way to know what the reaction of Pharoah’s daughter would be to a Hebrew baby. Moses ended up being just fine… and his biological mother even got to help raise him.
Both of these stories ended with a happy ending… not necessarily an emotionally void ending but a heart-warming ending.
Things are sometimes so often like a Little House on the Prairie episode. It may be easier to dream of a different life and definitely easier to dream of living in non-reality … but, hang in there, the episode is not over yet.
Exodus 2:1-10
The Birth of Moses
1 Now a man of the house of Levi married a Levite woman, 2 and she became pregnant and gave birth to a son. When she saw that he was a fine child, she hid him for three months. 3 But when she could hide him no longer, she got a papyrus basket for him and coated it with tar and pitch. Then she placed the child in it and put it among the reeds along the bank of the Nile. 4 His sister stood at a distance to see what would happen to him.
5 Then Pharaoh’s daughter went down to the Nile to bathe, and her attendants were walking along the river bank. She saw the basket among the reeds and sent her slave girl to get it. 6 She opened it and saw the baby. He was crying, and she felt sorry for him. “This is one of the Hebrew babies,” she said.
7 Then his sister asked Pharaoh’s daughter, “Shall I go and get one of the Hebrew women to nurse the baby for you?”
8 “Yes, go,” she answered. And the girl went and got the baby’s mother. 9 Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, “Take this baby and nurse him for me, and I will pay you.” So the woman took the baby and nursed him. 10 When the child grew older, she took him to Pharaoh’s daughter and he became her son. She named him Moses, saying, “I drew him out of the water.”
In the dark of the night, he silently slips into the room…. he stares at her while she sleeps and quietly searches for the blood he longs for… he moves quickly, she has no time to react… 

I realize that not every surprise is a pleasant experience. Yes, I’ve been on the boat of unpleasant surprises many times…You can ask the boat pilot whose name just happens to be Officer Gotcha A.K.A. Mr. “Can I see your License and Registration, please?” …Anyway, I am not naive to the fact that people may tend to connect surprises with a negative emotion, but I am also aware that surprises can be a wonderful thing.
I don’t know what I was thinking… an hour to spare and I said, ” Why don’t we take this other trail? It seems silly to go home when we could keep walking for another hour. It can’t possibly take that long.” I don’t know if the map was totally exaggerated or if I was oxygen deprived and not thinking straight, but for me to suggest we hike further????? Totally not me. First of all, let me set the record straight, I do like to hike… as long as the trail is relatively flat, the air is cool and I can wear my flip-flops. Also, I need to walk with slow walking people… my leg stride is so short that I have to run to keep up with others and believe me, I have a few friends who just about kill me when we are walking… at the mall. You know who you are..
Jesus said that if we see this uncaring, unjust judge answering the request, then just imagine what a loving Father would do. It would be really easy to look at that parable and take away from it that we have to beg and whine in order for God to answer our prayers the way we want them answered or we should ask God to be our genie in a lamp, but I don’t think that either is the point. I think the point may be to not give up before it is time to quit so you don’t miss out on the blessing that God has in store. Maybe persistence in prayer is not for us to feel good about the accomplishment or the gift, but maybe it helps us appreciate the power of God.
You could probably say that if I was a car then I would be a 2010 Camaro. Totally able to take on any other car and never feel ashamed or embarrassed of my ability. I would zoom down the highway just racing by all of those minivans and family cars. . I wouldn’t even have to refuel because I might also really be a Transformer! Nothing would slow me down… every goal and objective that I aimed for would be reached without any hesitation because my speed and accuracy would threaten or take down any obstacle…. Yep, that is me…. a red, 2010…. I should add, convertible… Camaro. Vroom……vroom.
Actually at this point, I am more like a scooter…well, maybe a scooter going up hill… or more likely a scooter going up hill with an oversized load…. okay, a scooter going up hill with an oversized load on a gas fumes only…. I really should pull over and call for help but instead I’ll push myself on up the hill at whatever the cost….At least I’m a red scooter….
I try to be green. I mean I recycle… I think that is about as green as I know how to be or really want to be. I don’t try to be wasteful and I do try to be resourceful but I think light green is probably more likely my shade …. However, I did try to do something this year that I have never done before.. Gardening. I grew up on a
My first thoughts were the weedeater… but I knew my husband wouldn’t have hit them. My second thought was a rabbit but I couldn’t understand why a rabbit would only eat the sunflowers and not everything else. I was highly disappointed but took heart because the other two baby sunflower plants were still going strong. I figured that the rest of my garden was in danger but really didn’t have a way to protect them from the hungry rabbit so I just had to hold onto the hope that all would be well in the morning.
whatever the death of choice for the slugs, I found it pretty comical that the little ugly, slimy sunflower murdering varmint could cause such a stir in good people.
the puppy has won the hearts of our daughters. They love the fact that she is a lap dog and acts like a lap dog when our so called “lap dog” doesn’t like to be held. When we pass the pet section in a store they look for cute clothes for Tasha… Moe doesn’t really like the whole clothes dressing up thing….Poor Moses P. Diddy Hall…. how fast they forget. But my friend, Michelle, she is not limited to loving only the canine pet but she also has a little marsupial ( a Sugar Glider) that my youngest daughter is very attached to and my middle daughter, after spending just a little bit of time with, begs for permission to buy one with her own money… our answer is always,”No! What about Moe? We can’t get you to take care of him” and her retort is always, “I try but he doesn’t want to be held.”…what being held and needing food and water have to do with each other have in common, I don’t know but in her mind that is justification for more pets……. poor Moe…
So back to the conversation about cuteness. My daughter tonight was talking about how cute Tasha was… on and on and on she talked and finally I had enough and stated my thoughts,

An innocent little nap and poof! I’m a builder. Yes, it may sound like I was dreaming and although I have been reading about Solomon building the temple… I wasn’t dreaming……..
The problem came to be when we found out something that created in us a whole new feeling of insecurity. Our neighbor had family visiting…. and it wasn’t just any family visiting…. it happened to be the brother-in-law… the brother-in-law who is a builder….not just any builder…. but a builder of really, really nice homes…. We had to up our standards right then and there. We couldn’t have him look out the door and laugh at the bumbling amateurs across the yard…. but, it was hopeless. We were bumbling amateurs and though we were following a plan we were also making it up as we went along. I’m thinking he was well entertained….
