Precious Are We

The stone which the builders rejected
has become the cornerstone.

Psalm 118:22

While my husband went off to run and errand, I took advantage of the 60 degree temperatures by weeding our patio. Though the pavers are beautiful, they do allow an occasional weed to crop up between them. While I was on my knees, I noticed that the nearby flowerbeds also needed a bit of care. We had spread volcanic rock between the plants. Still, weeds had poked their way through. I weeded there as well. In the process, I saw that some of those rocks had made their way onto the lawn. After weeding, I retrieved our rake and gathered those wayward stones as best I could. When I finished raking, I realized that I’d collected twigs and leaves as well. I knelt down once again to pick through the rubble and retrieve every bit of volcanic rock.

Since I was on my knees, it seemed appropriate to offer a word or two to God above as I worked. You know, I could have finished in half the time. Rather, I took the time to look at each stone, even the ones which were covered with mud and other unmentionables. I got the hose and rinsed them all. Then I put each rock wherever it seemed to belong. When Mike returned home, he asked why I was smiling so contentedly…

Dear God, you place us wherever we belong as well. Thank you for your faith in our ability to improve our surroundings and ourselves.

©2018 Mary Penich – All Rights Reserved

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God’s Glad You’re You!

When I sat at my keyboard to begin this writing, I checked the calendar on my desk. I’d come fully prepared to develop an idea I’d had for a few days regarding today’s scripture readings. Much to my dismay, I’d forgotten that this is not only the Fifth Sunday of Easter, but also Mother’s Day. I didn’t have the time to return to Square 1. Still, the mom in me refused to ignore the obvious. As is my custom, I avoided the pain of starting over for as long as possible. I headed to the kitchen for some iced tea. It was such a beautiful day that I lingered at the kitchen window for a few minutes. My poor husband had just planted three tiny arbor vitae to replace a large tree we’d lost. As I considered how long it will take for these little guys to cover the open space at the corner of our yard, my mind wandered to the two little guys who used to play in that yard…

Our sons loved their sandbox. Every year, after Mike cleaned and refilled it, our sons rediscovered the joys of sand. Our less little son, Mike, instructed his more little brother, Tim, regarding the intricacies of road building. Mike carefully guided Tim’s hand as Tim pulled a small shovel through the sand just deep enough to fashion a road which would accommodate Matchbox cars. Tim caught on quickly because in no time he and his big brother were pushing trucks and cars down a sandy highway. Before I returned my thoughts to this writing, I prayed that my sons will always work this well together.

I couldn’t walk away from the kitchen window because the garden hose Mike had used to water his new little trees lay across the sidewalk. Suddenly, our fifteen-year-old Mike stood watering flowers for his dad. Intrigued by his brother’s discipline and determined to distract him, seven-year-old Tim ran his hand through the stream of water and splashed his older brother as best he could. It didn’t occur to Tim that his brother controlled a good deal more water than he. Within seconds, Tim was soaked from head to toe and he and Mike laughed uncontrollably. Before getting to this writing, I prayed that my sons will always be able to laugh together.

I’d almost finished my tea when I allowed myself another peek out the window. Though I thought the sun-drenched greenery across the back of the yard would offer some inspiration, that lush hedge only conjured additional images of our sons. This time, it was older brother Mike’s wedding day. They’d just finished lunch with the groomsmen. Mike and younger brother Tim were comparing cuff-links and vests. My son-the-groom noted that his younger brother looked “cool.” My son-the-best-man noted that his older brother’s gray vest and tie were good choices for the day. Because they weren’t here for me to hug, I offered another prayer on their behalf. I prayed that my sons will always be there for one another through good times and tough times.

As I made my way back to the study to begin this writing, I recalled our family gathering a few weeks ago. In what seemed to be a nanosecond, another wedding and four births added to Mike’s and Tim’s company in the backyard. As I sat at my keyboard for the second time in an hour, it occurred to me that my original idea was quite appropriate for both this Fifth Sunday of Easter and Mother’s Day.

Today’s scriptures are very clear about the importance of each of our efforts in this life. All three scripture passages (Acts 6:1-7, 1 Peter 2:4-9 and John 14:1-12) point to the things we can accomplish when we embrace the moment at hand. These invitations to action can be as subtle as a chance encounter at the grocery store or as obvious as a screaming baby who’s just emerged in the delivery room. In either case, our response has the potential to make all of the difference in the world to someone. The frightening and beautiful part of all of this is that, in God’s loving opinion, this work has been placed in most capable hands.

This Mother’s Day, I admit that embracing my role as Mom and Grandma came with far more perks than most jobs offer. At the same time, the investment required more than I thought I had to give. This Fifth Sunday of Easter, I admit that embracing my role as a member of our human family also offers far more perks than I ever expected. God has gifted each one of us with a unique presence which somehow enriches this world and all whom we meet along the way. God’s only expectation is that we try. If this humble mom can find such joy in her sons and daughters-in-law, her grandchildren and Grandpa Mike who shares all of this with me, imagine the joy God finds in you and me! Happy Mother’s Day and Happy God’s Glad You’re You Day!

©2017 Mary Penich – All Rights Reserved