by Cathy Baker | Faith |
“It’s nothing like this in New York.”
While waiting for her groceries to be bagged, an older woman with a quick wit lectured the cashier and anyone else who would listen as to the various ways people “down here” are more helpful than the grocery attendants in NY. Somehow she managed to segue into an Obama rant in mere seconds, instantly losing the interest of bystanders.
As I gently coaxed her out the door with me, I had the feeling I could’ve taken up a donation at that very moment and received enough money for Piper’s college education…but I digress.
With her car parked next to mine in the vast Publix parking lot, I sensed the need to trust God to keep my shrimp chilled since I was smack dab in the middle of a divine encounter.
The spunky woman described how difficult it was being a Christ-follower while living on the outskirts of NY for 35 years, and the freedom they’ve experienced since moving south. I, in turn, shared my concerns that many here stumble over the churches forged on every corner, confusing their exposure to a building with true salvation.
In those fifteen minutes, we never exchanged names but we did exchange laughter, community, encouragement — and our personal stories of salvation. Oh, the looks we received from passersby — but we didn’t care.
After adding one last concern for Christ followers during this election season, she thanked me for listening and said, “If Obama is elected, I’ll see you in heaven!”
I smiled and reassured her I’d see her there regardless of the outcome.
I wish I could say that I always pause to put people first, but too often I’m concerned about the perishables becoming goop in my grocery bags, staying on task, or checking off a “to-do” from my schedule. Sigh.
As we waved and drove away, I marveled at the sovereignty of God, the power of our personal stories, and the thread of familial ties that bind each of His children together…now and forever.
by Cathy Baker | Faith |
“Don’t judge each day by the harvest you reap, but by the seeds that you plant.” -Robert Louis Stevenson
You may have read in past posts how some of my friends, who just happen to be writers, have taken a local waitress under their wings. From all indications, she does not have a personal relationship with Christ, but of course, only the Lord knows.
We’ve loved on her with generous tips, small gifts, kind words, and prayers — but last week’s table prayer was a first.
After asking the Lord to bless the French toast and bacon splattered across our plates (to which I sensed His response as “Really?”), I prayed for the health of our waitress, and then specifically for her to come to know Him. With that, we opened our eyes and discovered the waitress standing at the table waiting to fill our cups. I’m ashamed to say there was an immediate uneasiness within me. First, because it wasn’t how I’d imagined sharing the Gospel with her at some point, and secondly, because that “some point” had not come sooner.
I don’t know if her overhearing my prayer will reap a spiritual harvest, but I do know a seed was planted and now I pray for opportunities to continually water it with words of encouragement and however else the Lord leads.
The beautiful part of the story – of all our stories – is that the responsibility of the harvest lies with the Creator of the seeds. We’re called to plant and to water through a variety of ways, but God alone holds the power to bring forth the growth.
I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth. 1 Cor. 3:6
by Cathy Baker | Faith |
(pr
d)
n.
Pleasure or satisfaction taken in an achievement, possession, or association
The word “pride” sends shivers down my spine. I’ve never liked it, thanks to parents and grandparents who raised me to never shine the spotlight on myself — but on others — and with a family like this, I have many reasons to direct the spotlight in their direction.
First, Brian the hubster ran his first 5K this morning. He not only finished, but he broke his own record by finishing in a tad over 24 minutes. He’s been diligently training for weeks, and losing 20 lbs via Weight Watchers certainly helped in those efforts. So proud!
And then here came Zach rounding the bend (below, in yellow). I thought I’d taken a closer shot of him. 🙁 Okay, I may not be a great photographer, but I am a proud mom.
The beaming continues…Our oldest son, Brandon, and his sweet wife, Megan, have decided to adopt from a little boy from Uganda! We’re incredibly excited for them, for our family, and especially for the little one God has already chosen to be a part of our family. We look forward to welcoming our grandson “home”…hopefully before Christmas? If you’d like to follow their journey, they’ll be chronicling it here. You’ll also find this link on my blog roll.
And last, but certainly not least, while Sarah was using her snappy creative skills to help a friend yesterday, guess who got to keep Piper? Yep, you guessed it. 🙂
This wife, mom, mom-in-law, grammy, and grammy-to-be is one proud woman.
“Every good and perfect gift is from above.” James 1:17
Thank you, Lord!
by Cathy Baker | Faith |
Attending the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference is rewarding in countless ways, but here are my top ten:
- Group times, key note speakers. Mornings and evenings bring times of refreshment through music and words of encouragement.
- Informative
classes. Sitting in a room with like-minded people who are eager to
learn is contagious. Add a speaker who is passionate about sharing
his/her knowledge, and an unforgettable experience awaits.
- Reconnecting with friends. Last year, I left BRMCWC with new friendships that will last an eternity. I cannot wait to give them a big hug.
- Making new friends. BRMCWC
is a welcoming, friendly community. Unless you attend determined not to
meet anyone new, you too will more than likely arrive home with
lifelong friends.
- Eating yummy food. The cafeteria offers both healthy and heavier meals — both delicious! Their staff is the best.
- Beautiful campus, fresh air, rocking chairs. Need I say more?
- Critique
time. What better way to learn? I look forward to learning from the
master, Dr. Donn Taylor, one of the most humble and wisest teachers I’ve
ever had the pleasure of meeting.
- Evening gatherings after group time. Oh my! Comfy couches with beautiful surroundings in the Mtn
Laurel lobby is the backdrop for late night laughter, tears, readings,
etc. Some of my best memories from last year originated here.
- Banquet. Celebrating the success of others is a highlight of the week for us all.
- Sipping
Starbucks at the Cloud 9 Cafe. Little ladies graciously volunteer their
time to serve others and they do so with a smile. Of course, the coffee
isn’t bad either.
A special thanks to Edie Melson and Alton Gansky who work tirelessly to make this conference such a success.
May 20th cannot come soon enough. Hope to see you there!
by Cathy Baker | Faith |
As Piper and I chatted today about her first beach trip in May, I couldn’t help but recall the memorable moments from my own childhood trips to the sand and the sea.
Growing up, our entire family—grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins—would rent a large beachfront house in Garden City SC. It was perfect for my grandfather, whose favorite pastime was rocking on the back screened porch, taking in the salty spray of the ocean for all it was worth.
In the mornings, dad and I would sneak out early and hunt for shark’s teeth that had been stirred up and spit out overnight.
In the afternoons, we all hit the beach, jumped waves, and searched for seashells.
Evenings were always fun. Fresh seafood, putt-putt games, trips to the Yum-Yum ice cream shop (blue bubble gum with real chewy pieces churned inside out), numerous rounds of set-back (card game), and unending laughter. As an only child, this was the only time of year I felt more like Cindy on the Brady Bunch.
Although I didn’t fully appreciate it at the time, having an extended family made me feel loved and a part of something much bigger.
Our family isn’t as large now, but I look forward to introducing Piper to the yearly “Scott” beach trips I’ve enjoyed all my life and carrying on the tradition of lots of fun in the sun (with 50 SPF zinc-oxide protection, of course).
Let us savor these moments with our families, for they will emerge as memories not soon forgotten by our children and grandchildren.
[Is that “The Way We Were” I hear playing in the background?]
by Cathy Baker | Faith |
It’s no surprise that Alicia Silverstone’s video of pre-chewing her 10 month old’s son’s food, known as pre-mastication, went viral last week. For most of us, the thought of transferring food from our mouth to our child’s, like a mother bird, makes us cringe a bit.
Many of us would never consider trying it. Yet, when it comes to our spiritual walk, we may find it quite tempting.
One indication that we may be practicing pre-mastication is when we find ourselves depending on a pastor’s sermon as our mainstay of spiritual food. After all, he’s done the chewing — praying, studying, preparing — throughout the week. Surely showing up once a week, opening our mouths Bibles and swallowing listening is sufficient.
What if we depended on one meal a week to sustain our physical bodies? We’d survive, but lack strength and endurance to accomplish all God has planned for us.
So how can we avoid spiritual pre-mastication?
- Study the Word for ourselves. Local Christian bookstores offer a plethora of studies. When we spend time going deeper in the Word’s meaning, truth is transferred from the head to the heart, it’s digested, and lives change.
- Consider taking notes on Sunday mornings. Engaging two senses instead of one increases the likelihood of our being able to recall the truths heard — not only that day, but throughout the week and beyond.
- Meditate and memorize the Word. Meditating doesn’t require a sandy beach, loose fitting clothes, or music playing softly in the background. We choose one verse a day. Write it down. Keep it with us throughout the day and re-visit it often, asking the Lord what He would have to teach us through it. When we meditate, we memorize, and when we practice these disciplines, we’re digesting the living and active Word of God into our very being.
But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you. John 14:26 ESV
d) n.
