Love Letters

My family is into racing. No, not the Nascar kind of racing. Actual running. Every single day.

Well, except for Sundays.

Aren't you impressed? I'll bet you had no idea we were such a fit family.

We would probably be more fit if the race were a little longer. But our racetrack is only the distance between our front door and our mailbox.

Every day, when the mail truck comes, every person in my household - who happens to be present - races to the mailbox to retrieve the mail. Sometimes, out of gracious generosity, I let the kids win. But most days, I don't have to let them. They just beat me.

That is why I have, on occasion, resorted to cheating. If I spy the mail truck coming up the road, I have been known to send the kids to their rooms with some command. "Clean your room!" "Read a book!"

The truth is, I just want to get the mail.

I have no idea why we have such a fascination with those little envelopes that land in our mailbox. Ninety percent of the time, it is just bills or advertisements. Every once in a while, we'll get a catalogue, which is worth about ten minutes of entertainment. Sometimes, there will be a check, which always brings a smile.

But once in a blue moon, there will be a treasure of great price. A pearl.

An actual, honest-to-goodness letter.

On those days, there is dancing and great rejoicing in the Brumbaugh household. "Who is it for?" We all ask. "Is it for me?"

Usually, it's a card from Nana, addressed to one of the kids. Sometimes, it's a thank-you note or a family newsletter from some distant relative. And rarely - Oh Happy Day! - rarely it is a personal letter from a friend.

It's funny, really. I don't know why we get so excited about the mail. After all, it comes six days a week. And usually it's nothing to get excited about.

Yet, we all hope and pray for that moment when there will be an actual card or letter with our name on it. That small rectangular envelope is a reminder that, to someone, somewhere, we matter. We are important. Someone sees us, knows us, and cares enough to spend a stamp on us.

We all want to be noticed, don't we? We all want to be important to someone. And a simple letter in the mailbox assures us that no, we are not invisible. Someone knows we exist. Someone cares.

But whether or not we ever get an actual letter in our mailbox, there is One who notices us. We are important to Him. He sees us, and He cares.

Though He has been known, on occasion, to use the U.S. Postal System, He usually sends His love notes in the forms of blooming flowers and singing birds and unexpected smiles from our friends and loved ones. He gives us reminders, every single day, of how much He loves us.

And we don't have to scramble or race for His attention, either. He sends individual, personalized messages to each and every one of us. Messages of love and comfort and encouragement, each one tailor-made and specially delivered just for you. Just for me.

So from now on, I think I'll make it a point to watch as diligently for the delivery of His blessings as I do for the mail truck. And I'll even encourage the kids to watch with me.

Gen. 16:13 “You are the God who sees me.”

Pick Me!

Do you remember that feeling, in third grade, when the teacher lined everyone up against the wall, appointed two team captains, and told them to choose teams? Man, I hated those times. My palms would get all sweaty, and I could barely breathe. Pick me, pick me, please pick me. If the teams were athletic, I was often the last picked. But I just loved it when they were choosing for the spelling bee, because then, I was the first choice!

It feels good to be chosen. It doesn’t matter if it is for a sports team, a spelling bee, or a job, we all want to be picked. We all want to feel wanted, needed, loved. And it doesn’t matter how old we get, or how successful we are, deep down, we all still get that sweaty-palm feeling any time we are thrust into a new situation. We all fear rejection. We all want to be chosen.

Today is Good Friday. Now, I know some of you who are reading this may not give any thought to this day, other than the fact that many of you get a day off. But whether you give any thought to the reason for this day or not, the fact remains. This day, nearly 2,000 years ago, is the day that changed the world.

This is the day that God chose us.

Now, I’m not a theologian. I don’t hold a fancy degree in biblical studies, and I certainly don’t claim to have all the answers. But honestly, folks. The idea that God chose me just blows my mind.

Why would He do that?

I wouldn’t have done that. If I were God, and the very same people who had waved palm branches and shouted my praises just a few days earlier had suddenly turned on me, if they were spitting on me when I had done nothing wrong, if they were shouting my curses and calling for my death, even though they knew I was innocent – I would have zapped them all. Seriously, I would have. I guess that’s why I’m not God.

Today, we remember that He chose us. Instead of condemning us, He loved us. Instead of leaving us to our own godless ways, He chose to show us a better way.

He let us kill Him.

And then, to show that His love and His power were stronger than death, He rose again.

And it gets even better.

Now, the God of the Universe has put Himself on the wall, so to speak, and He wants us to choose Him. He sits on His throne in heaven, and says, pick Me, pick Me, please pick Me . . .

If He had wanted to, God could have created a bunch of robots who have no choice but to love Him. But He didn’t. He chose us, and now He stretches out His arm in a divine invitation to choose Him back. And when we do, when we accept His love, all of heaven rejoices! He lifts us up, cleans us off, and adopts us right into His family! Then, He begins His work in us, making us more like Him, creating in us a family resemblance so that all the world can see - we have been chosen.

Ephesians 1:4 “For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight.”

April Fools!

I (drum roll please . . .) am the reigning April Fool’s Champion! Perhaps I shouldn’t be quite so proud of this accomplishment, but I am. It is a title I wear proudly, along with my crown, scepter and cape. I’ve even been known to hum, “We are the Champions” every year on April 1. For I, my friends, am the champion, and everyone in my family knows it.

I originally won the title several years ago. We were trying to sell our house, and you all know what that’s like. The idea of keeping one’s home spotless, twenty-four hours a day, just in case a potential buyer drops by is a noble one. The execution of that idea is a different story.

On that particular April 1, our house was a mess. Nothing unusual about that. But as I walked around the house, knowing that I was the one who was going to have to clean the mess, I had a momentary stroke of genius! I sneaked into the bedroom and made a stealth phone call to my mom.

“Mom!” I whispered.

“Renae, is that you?”

“Yes. Hang up and call me back!”

“Renae, are you okay?”

“Yes. Just call me back, please.”

After a moment, Mom laughed, and honored my request. There’s nothing more valuable than a good partner in crime. As far as crimes go. And April Fools’ pranks.

The phone rang. This time, I answered it in the living room, in front of everyone. “Very interested, you say? And you will be here in . . . 20 minutes? Oh, yes. Come on. We’ll be ready for you!”

I hung up the phone and feigned a look of terror. (I knew that semester of Speech and Drama would come in handy for something.) “The realtor will be here in 20 minutes. Move!”

(I was especially brilliant with the “Move!” It’s those extra touches that make an April Fools’ prank especially believable. Just in case you’re taking notes.)

Well, the speed with which my little family put away, threw away, and hid the mess in that house was unmatched. We looked like a fast-forward scene in a movie. Only it was real time.

After 23 minutes, the house was spit-polished and shiny. “We’d better get out of here. They were supposed to be here already,” Mark said.

Let me tell you, friends, I relished that moment. A slow, cat-ate-the-canary smile spread across my face, and I said softly, “April Fools!”

Since that day, each member of my family has tried to one-up me. Each year, on April 1, I am the recipient of every prank attempt in the book. But I am unmatched. I am, and always will be, the champion.

Oh, I’ve had my coffee creamer replaced with salt. I’ve had my car moved, so I’d think it had been stolen. There have been fake illnesses and fake insects and all sorts of other amateurish attempts. But no one has even come close to matching my skill.

It’s fun to pull pranks on April Fool’s Day, as long as no one gets hurt. But being a fool in real life isn’t fun at all. I’m so glad that God makes foolish people wise. He’s given us everything we need, right there in His Word, to make good choices and live prosperous, successful lives. And when we follow Him, we will all be champions!

No fooling.

Psalm 19:7 “The statutes of the Lord are trustworthy, making wise the simple.”

Graduation

Mark and I have officially graduated. And to be perfectly honest, we feel a little cheated. We didn’t get a ceremony. We didn’t get the cap and gown, or even the little rolled up piece of paper with the ribbon tied around it.

There were no parties. No big sheet cake with, “Congratulations, Graduate!” There were no gifts. And – this is the worst – there were no cards with money inside them.

And what, pray tell, did we graduate from?

(Heavy sigh.)

We are now, officially, “Mom and Dad.”

To be perfectly honest, our daughter has been calling me “Mom” for a while now. But there was still the occasional “Mama,” and every once in a while, “Mommy” would slip in. Mark, on the other hand, has always been “Daddy.” Now, he’s just plain “Dad.”

And it’s killing him.

When did this come about? When did our little girl become a . . . big girl? She’s lived with us her whole life. How could this happen right before our eyes? When did we blink?

It’s more than just the name thing. She has suddenly developed a new hobby. Talking on the phone. And just a short while ago, we could say, “We’re going to Wal-Mart!” and we would actually leave our driveway within a reasonable amount of time. Now, we say, “We’re going to Wal-Mart,” and then we wait. And wait. And wait some more while she changes her clothes three times and fixes her hair and reapplies her tinted lip balm.

But even though the transition is breaking our hearts, we are proud. We are so proud of the young lady who is kind and thoughtful, who is funny and witty and helpful, who makes friends easily and reads everything she can get her hands on, and who, someday, wants to be a missionary to China.

Yes, we are proud. But that doesn’t mean we like it.

Not one bit.

You’d think proud and happy would go together. But that’s not always the case. I can’t help but think of the parents of our military men and women. I know that none of them are happy about having their children shipped off to fight in a foreign country. Proud, yes. Happy, no.

I wish that we could have our cake and eat it too, don’t you? I wish I could keep that little girl who rode around on my hip. But I wouldn’t trade my big girl for anything. I wish we didn’t have to send anybody to fight anywhere. But I’m so grateful that we have young men and women who are willing to step up to the plate and protect our homeland.

There are some transitions in life that we just have to go through. And though we may not be happy about each and every change, we have a choice. We can fight them, kicking and screaming like children, or we can accept those changes with dignity and grace. We can learn and grow and become better people. Or we can continue on without learning a thing. But that doesn’t leave much to be proud of.

So, all in all, I suppose I could learn to like being a graduate. I could learn to like being called “Mom” instead of “Mommy.” After all, I now have a shopping buddy. I have someone to give me fashion advice. I have a friend.

And that makes me both happy and proud.

1 Corinthians 13:11 “When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me.”

Standardized Tests

My children – and about a zillion others – are preparing to take their yearly standardized tests. Call me strange, but I used to love those test days when I was a kid. After all, on those days, the teachers were extra nice to us. They didn’t want us to be stressed out. And on those days, we didn’t have to do our regular “work.” At the end of test days, we were rewarded with special snacks and treats.

I’ve been working with both of my children to get them ready for their tests. My son is in the first grade, and I’m happy to say he’s passed all of his practice tests with flying colors. So have I.

My daughter is in the sixth grade. She’s done well on her practice tests, too. I wish I could say the same. My word, I don’t remember ever learning some of the things she’s expected to know!

Which size box should be used to mail a package that is more than 130 cubic inches but smaller than 160 cubic inches? Why are they asking me this? Hand me the package. Hand me the box. I’ll see if it fits. That’s my answer.

And why do I need to divide 3.192 by 0.42? I thought that’s what calculators were for.

And where in the world is Kampuchea? I don’t know. I just don’t know.

I seem to do well in the language sections of the tests, though. After all, I was an English major.

You do the math.

It makes me wonder how I’d score if there were a standardized test for adults. Life version. I have no doubt that I’ve been taught, in lesson after lesson, how to get along in this life. Still, there are some sections that I always pass with flying colors, and other sections I fail miserably. Time and again.

For example, give me a deadline, and I’ll meet it. I’m pretty good about owning up to my responsibilities. (Pass.) But then again . . . if I don’t have a deadline, I’ll probably never get it done. (Fail.)

I also do well when I have to meet new people. I know how to smile, shake hands, ask about the other person’s interests . . . (pass). But I have this annoying little need for everyone – and I mean everyone – to like me. When someone doesn’t like me, I tend to spend hours trying to figure out what I did wrong (fail). I can’t seem to learn the lesson that when people don’t like us, quite often it has more to do with them than it does with us. Maybe we look like someone who was unkind to them. Maybe they don’t care for blondes, or women, or humor columnists. Maybe they really do like us, they just don’t know how to express themselves.

Why can’t I just learn to say, “Oh, well,” and move on? That’s a life lesson I’m still learning.

We all succeed at some life lessons, and struggle with others. The good news is that we have a Teacher who is patient and kind. He believes in us, and He will never give up on us. When we have difficulty, all we have to do is go to Him, and He will give us all the help we need.

And with His help, we will always pass with flying colors.

2 Peter 1:3 “His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him . . .”

Mercy Me

I looked in the rearview mirror at the police car pulling into the street behind me. Oh, please God, don’t let him be coming after me.

I turned.

He turned.

I pulled into the parking lot.

He pulled into the parking lot.

I parked.

He pulled up behind me and turned on his lights.

Oh, dear God, what have I done now? There’s nothing like a police officer approaching your driver’s window to get your prayer life in order.

I rolled down my window, knowing that within a few short moments, he’d be hauling me off to the slammer.

“Ma’am, may I please see your driver’s license?”

“Well, officer, I . . . uhm . . . I don’t actually have my license with me.”

“Really? Why is that?”

“Last night, I went to visit my parents. They live about fifteen minutes from here. And, well, you see . . . it’s the funniest thing. I left my purse at their house.”

He didn’t seem amused. “May I see your proof of insurance?”

Oh God, please let it be in there, I prayed while digging through my glove compartment. Bingo!

I triumphantly pulled out the card and handed it to the man.

“Ma’am, this expired over a year ago.”

“Oh! I’m sorry. Let me see . . . I know the current one is here somewhere . . . Aha! Here it is!” I handed him the new card.

“Ma’am, this one expired last week.”

I picked up my cell phone and began dialing.

“Ma’am, who are you calling?”

“My husband. I’m hoping he can tell me where the current insurance card is.”

“Put the phone down, ma’am.”

I obeyed. A picture of myself in bold, black and white horizontal stripes flashed through my mind. I look terrible in horizontal stripes.

“I’m so sorry, sir. Could you please tell me what I did wrong?” I couldn’t believe my own ears. What did I do wrong? What didn’t I do wrong? “I mean . . . why did you pull me over?”

The man shifted from his right foot to his left. I’m not sure he knew exactly what to do with me. “Ma’am, you were going several miles over the speed limit. Right in front of the police station, I might add.”

“I’m sorry,” I told him. Why do I keep apologizing?

I knew my life was in his hands. He had every right to throw the book at me.

But then, he did something amazing. “Ma’am, I can verify your insurance with this card. I can also verify whether or not your license is current. If your license isn’t current, I’ll have to give you a ticket. Same with your insurance. If they’re both current, I’ll give you a written warning. Please stay in the car.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. Had he really just said what I thought he said? I knew my license was current. I knew my insurance was current. And yes, I knew I had probably been speeding. Was he really going to show mercy?

He was gone a loooooooooong time. Finally, he approached my window and handed me the expired card. “Everything checked out. I’m going to let you off with a warning.”

A warning? A warning?!?

I wanted to leap from the car and hug the officer. But I was afraid he might change his mind. Or charge me with assault.

“Thank you so, so much, officer,” I gushed.

“Do you have any questions?” he asked. He really was nice. It reminded me, once again, that our police officers are the good guys.

They protect us from the bad guys, and they protect us from ourselves. Their job is to keep us safe. And most of them really do care about the people they protect.

He had no reason to show mercy that day, but he did.

And it reminded me of another Good Guy. God knows everything I’ve ever done. He has every right to throw the book at me, to lock me up and throw away the key. But He doesn’t want to do that.

Oh, He loves justice. He doesn’t look kindly on evil. But He also knows that sometimes, we just mess up. We forget our purses, or we forget to put our current insurance cards in the car. We accidentally say the wrong things. We break His laws.

He also sees our hearts. And when He sees that we’re genuinely sorry for our mistakes, He forgives us. Though we don’t deserve forgiveness, He gives it. He shows mercy.

And I, for one, am really glad He does.

Joel 2:13 “Return to the LORD your God, for he is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love, and he relents from sending calamity.”

Getting Laid Off

My dear husband is doing what a lot of people are doing these days. He’s praying he doesn’t lose his job. Over the past several weeks, he has watched many of his dear friends and colleagues become victims of a poor economy. Our hearts break for them, even as we pray it doesn’t happen to our family.

Believe it or not, though, there are some good things about getting laid off. Sure, they may take a little while to notice. When faced with mountains of bills and no money to pay them, our first response will nearly always be panic. But after we take a few moments to breathe into a paper bag or scream at an empty room or worse, we may just find a few things to be thankful for:

1. These days, everyone is getting laid off. We can find camaraderie with people from all walks of life – doctors, lawyers and Indian chiefs find common ground. It’s like an exclusive club.

2. When we get laid off, we get to be cheap, and no one thinks any less of us. We can buy discount gifts, clip coupons, and take advantage of the Kids Eat Free nights at restaurants. Everyone will think we are thrifty and wise.

3. We don’t have to go to work for a while! Many people have been trudging along at a job they hate, just so they can pay the bills. A lay-off gives a perfect opportunity to pursue that dream job. Why not? What have we got to lose?

4. We get to tap into our creative sides. Instead of going to the movies, try filming a home movie. Instead of going out to eat, try to cook like Emeril or Paula Deen.

5. We’ll have time to pursue that hobby we’ve secretly wanted to pursue. Write a novel. Paint a mural. Set a new weight-lifting record. Go on. You know you wanna.

6. Quite possibly for the first time in a long time, we’ll be forced to focus on relationships, not stuff. And that’s always a good thing. Go to the park with your honey. Fly a kite with your kids. Take time to sip tea with your grandma.

7. Our money will stretch further than it did before. When we have plenty of money, we tend to toss it around on any old thing that catches our eyes. When we have less money, we become pickier about what we buy. We tend to look for more bang for our bucks, and spend our money on things that will last.

8. We are forced to examine ourselves. Without jobs and extra money, we learn to define ourselves by our character, instead of by our titles and the size of our bank accounts. Good character is more valuable than silver and gold, and will take us a lot further in life.

9. We get to become better people. Let’s face it. A little competition is always a good thing. Rather than settling for mediocrity, the fierce job market forces us to hone our skills. We must learn to offer the best products and the most prompt, reliable service. We must have the best people skills. We are required to speak better, dress better, and be more pleasant. And those are all good things.

10. We become more grateful. Despite how grim things may seem, most of us still have more than many in this world. Most of us have clothes to wear and food to eat. We live in a country that allows us to speak freely, that holds compassion as a high ideal, and that always tries to take care of its own. And we have a God who loves us and who will never forsake us. That’s a lot to be thankful for.

Getting laid off might seem like the pits. But if you look hard enough, you may find a few cherries in the bowl.

Romans 8:28 “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”