It doesn’t look like much. And to most, it probably isn’t much. Just a soap dish, from K-Mart, one might assume. Probably purchased in the 50’s. Pink plastic with removable drainer. The gold trim of its crown nearly worn from years of scouring with Comet Cleanser. At first glance, one might easily overlook the esteemed position it held through the years.
Dear Mother (in purple crayon)
I almost tossed it away – it looked so insignificant, written with a purple crayon, personalized with my favorite drawings: a tree on the front and a swing set on the back. But evidently it was not insignificant to her, as she had written on the back, “Had been away over the weekend when Kathy made this,” then tucked it away in the cedar chest, along with Valentines, newspaper clippings, and report cards.
I’m wondering where she had gone that weekend, as I don’t remember my mother ever being away from home!
She often baked macaroni and cheese – using those big chunks of colby and large elbow macaroni. Homemade bread. Sunbeam Rolls. Beef Roasts with potatoes. Warm custard when I was sick.
She laundered my clothes.
She tucked me in at night with hugs.
She held me and sang soft sweet songs like “Go Tell Aunt Tabby”and “Bye Baby Bunting.”
I knew her unconditional love. I never questioned it. I was enveloped in comfort and security.
It’s no wonder I missed her, wherever she had gone that weekend.
And it’s no wonder I miss her now.
I wish it was just for the weekend, but now it’s been eight long years. I miss the macaroni and cheese, her soft hugs, the sound of her voice, and a thousand other things.
Since that note to my mother so long ago, I’ve changed the spelling of my first name, and now I always use a blue, medium point pen instead of a crayon. I never draw trees on my notes or letters any longer, and I prefer writing on lined paper. But I might just write another purple crayon message on plain white paper, fold it, and on the front, write, “To Mother.” The message will be simple. Only a few words will change:
Then I’ll tuck it in the same cedar chest and hope that miraculously she’ll receive it up in heaven.Dear Mama,
I will be glad to see you again. I am lonesome for you.
From,
Kathi
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I won’t be receiving a Tony Award this year.
The date was set.
The courtroom was reserved.
The orchestration had already been assigned, and guess what? I hadn’t been chosen for the job.
I had wanted to do it; I had wanted to be able to arrange everything. To set the “stage” for the sentencing. Just the right people there. Exactly the right things to be said. I had it all planned. I thought. But the orchestrator position belonged to someone else – Almighty God.
So I sat back and trusted God–something I’ve been learning to do for quite some time. To trust Him to orchestrate the events.
He had begun the orchestration quite some time ago, before the creation of the world (1). He created her inmost being, her special talents, her tender soul. Then He knit her beautifully together–her delicate face, her porcelain complexion, her thin fingers– in my womb (2).
And while she was in my womb, I loved her. I planned how I would care for her, protect her, guide her, keep her. He had the same plans for her and more! Plans to prosper her and protect her, plans to give her hope and a future (3).
Time passed. I failed. She failed. We all failed Him (4).
I kept trying to orchestrate the events in her life. I applied, repeatedly, but over and over, I was never hired for the position.
I began to trust Him more. I learned to depend upon one thing — His Word. I trusted Him in it.
I prayed that Word with her, to her, for her.
I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, would give her the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that she would know him better. I prayed that the eyes of her heart would be enlightened in order that she might know the hope to which he has called her, the riches of his glorious inheritance, and his incomparably great power for us who believe . . . (5).
And I prayed the same for myself!
It seemed chaotic at first, like total discord, dissonance, cacophany! But then it happened! The Great Orchestrator–the one who had written the composition, had arranged all the parts, and had adapted that beautiful composition to our broken lives–that Great Orchestrator, in His great mercy, brought all the parts of the production together in perfect harmony.
She was redeemed. She became a new creation!
And so each time I think the production is in shambles and needs orchestrated, I remind myself to quit applying for the Orchestrator position. There’s someone more qualified, and He does such a perfect job.
No I won’t be receiving a Tony Award this year.
If you’d like to read my story about facing our daughter’s addiction and her subsequent arrest, you can order When Life Roars, Jesus Whispers by clicking here.
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End Notes:
1) Eph. 1:4
2) Psalm 139: 13
3) Jer. 29:11
4) Rom. 3:23
5) Eph. 1:17,18
Who is Touching You?
Today, I was reading about Jesus. It’s the story of Jesus at a dinner. All four gospel writers record it. Perhaps you’ve heard it – or read it.
A woman comes in to the house where the dinner is held, obviously uninvited, and she opens a very expensive bottle of perfume and anoints Jesus with it. Most likely she is chastised. The Pharisees even chastise Jesus for allowing this to happen. The “righteous” guests have various reasons to criticize the action. They are self-righteous and think they know best – know more than Jesus. Jesus uses the situation to teach them about the forgiveness of sins. Paraphrased, it’s something like this: He who has been forgiven much loves Him much. He who has been forgiven little loves little. Then He tells the woman her sins are forgiven, her faith has saved her, and she is to go in peace.
It’s a marvelous story about forgiveness. About repentance. About redemption. You’re probably familiar with it. Perhaps like me, you’ve read it or heard it many times throughout your life. But today, as I read it – distraught by the sin openly flaunted around us, by the self-glorification and haughtiness displayed in this country and this world in which we live – one line stood out to me more than the others. One line I never really contemplated before. It is only found in Luke’s account (7:39). The sanctimonious, hypocritical man who had invited Jesus said it:
If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is – that she is a sinner.
He knew. Oh yes, Jesus knew.
It made me question: Who is touching me? And I ask you, Who is touching you?
Every day, we are approached, surrounded by, or we simply encounter a sinner – at work, at the grocery store, even on social media – one whose sins are not yet forgiven, one who is not yet saved, one who does not yet have the peace our Jesus offers. That person is touching you. And you know.
We must tell them about Jesus, the one who forgives sins, saves souls, and offers peace. We must tell them about the Jesus we have touched. The Jesus who saved us. The time is short.
We know. Oh yes, we know.
So I must be aware of who is touching me. And I ask you, Who is touching you?
Join me in reading further today: Matthew 26:6-13; Mark 14:3-9; Luke 7:36-50; John 12:1-8
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Kathi
It’s a “toss up”
Most people think 2020 has been the worst year ever. It’s a “toss up” between 2020 and 2012 for me. I write about much of 2012 in my first book, When Life Roars, Jesus Whispers, but not all. I’d like you to read it. Why? Because you’ll relate. I know you’ve been through similar trials, and I know you’ll find encouragement through each chapter of Hope, Comfort, Faith, Promise . . .
I’m hoping you’ll order a copy for yourself – and for a friend. Also order my Bible Study, Shh! Listen to His Whispers, in which you’ll learn how to hear Jesus speak to you through His Word, the Bible. This study has changed lives, and it’ll change yours – along with mine – to draw us closer to the Lord Jesus.
Blessings,
Kathi
Papa, can I lie in your bed?
He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart:
I put her to bed, as usual. Well, really, with a bit more tenderness, a bit more time–reading, laying, singing, snuggling. But she is still quite unsettled when I leave her bedside, and shortly after, I hear her behind me in the living room.
Quietly.
“Nana, can I lie in your bed?”
“Sure, honey.”
I follow her down the hall. She steps up onto the little white stepping stool and up up up on to the big, soft mattress. And then I see the tears.
“I miss my mommy.”
I wipe her tears.
I lie beside her, cherishing her soft hair rubbing my cheek, breathing in its sweet, innocent scent.
Later, after she is sound asleep, Papa carries Kaylee back to her own bed.
I awaken in the night. My heart aches. I miss her mommy too. And I know a bit of the pain my precious daughter is going through. She shared it with me months ago, shortly after the arrest. Now I know that tonight, she lies on her cot, in her cell, cold and lonely. My throat makes a foreign noise. I try to hold back the sob, knowing that when it starts, it doesn’t stop for a long time. I pray for her in a whisper – a whisper I know my Papa hears.
Months ago, after the arrest, on the 9th day, we brought her home–from that cell, from that cot–for one night before recovery began. She wanted her own bed– her old bed. The comfort of home.
Now I want the comfort of my Papa’s bed. I want that comfort for my daughter, and for her daughter, Kaylee. I want that comfort for all of us and for all others who are hurting.
I find it. I find it in the Word that is near me!
He gently tends me like a shepherd tends his flock. He gathers me in his arms and carries me close to his heart.
I might be unsettled for awhile, but I know that as I rest in his arms, close to His heart, I’ll find that comfort.
Further Reading: Isaiah 40:11; Psalm 91:1; Matthew 11:28; Romans 10:8
As you read the above post, you might connect. Some of you have or are presently raising your grandchildren. Some of you have or have had a son or daughter incarcerated. Some of you agonize, watching your own little ones unsettled and distressed, often unable to sleep. Take a verse or two and personalize it for yourself. Speak it over and over and over . . . His Word is powerful. And it’s near you.
If you’d like to read my story about facing our daughter’s addiction and her subsequent arrest, you can order When Life Roars, Jesus Whispers by clicking here.
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I Remember Mama
Thursday
Yesterday was a tough day.
Last night was agonizing.
I can’t imagine facing a day of my life without her . . .or a day without sobbing.
This evening is sad – seeing her, my Mama – lifeless and still upon pink satin lining the silver box . I don’t want to see her like this.
I close my eyes and remember her in the kitchen, making her yellow rolls; I remember her tucking me into bed at night; and I remember her dancing down “Main Street” on our first trip to Disney World!
Then I open my eyes and look around the large room of this funeral home, a place I don’t want to be, facing what I don’t want to face, where earlier, alone, I couldn’t stop crying.
Now the room has taken on a different countenance. Instead of the parlor of death, it has become a playroom, filled with my young grandchildren. Their voices, full of animation, and their healthy little bodies, full of life, make me realize that Mama lives on in me, in my children, and in my grandchildren. As I reflect upon it, I realize that life is truly amazing. My friend, Connie, told me that today. “Life is amazing,” she said, “and we are a part of it.”
And I am a part of it because of my precious Mama. And now I will pass on the tradition of baking the yellow rolls and I will tuck my little ones into bed, and I will dance down Main Street.”
Tomorrow I must say goodbye – I know it’s just her body – that her soul is in heaven and that she will receive a new, vibrant, healthy body, but it’s her old body and her touch and her voice that I will miss. It’s the smell of Ponds Cold Cream and of yellow rolls baking in her oven.
Restoration from the Word
Are you distressed? I am. Most recently, I fight anxiety day and night. Truly the only thing that really helps me is speaking God’s word – praying God‘s word. Speaking God’s word puts things into perspective. Praying His word covers it all – becomes the perfect prayer – because it is His word! It is powerful. And it speaks to my anxious heart.
So I give you this sunset as a reminder of His mighty power, His faithfulness, and His sustenance.
I invite you to speak these word and to pray them. This short passage is Psalm 51:1-12
“Have mercy on me, O God,according to your unfailing love;according to your great compassionblot out my transgressions.Wash away all my iniquityand cleanse me from my sin.For I know my transgressions,and my sin is always before me.Against you, you only, have I sinnedand done what is evil in your sight;so you are right in your verdictand justified when you judge.Surely I was sinful at birth,sinful from the time my mother conceived me.Yet you desired faithfulness even in the womb;you taught me wisdom in that secret place.Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean;wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.Let me hear joy and gladness;let the bones you have crushed rejoice.Hide your face from my sinsand blot out all my iniquity.Create in me a pure heart, O God,and renew a steadfast spirit within me.Do not cast me from your presenceor take your Holy Spirit from me.Restore to me the joy of your salvationand grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.”
I especially find comfort in the last two lines (verse). For it is that joy I desire and that willing spirit I so need.
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Whispers in the Cove
My body and mind are accustomed to cool autumn days of falling leaves, of rainy, foggy, mornings and of frost on the last of the pumpkins, but this autumn season is different for me, as I am in the midst of a sunny, warm climate. My body is adjusting – appreciatively! But my mind, nonetheless, is not following suit, as it is boggled with reports of riots, with spewed hate on social media, and with division over an election.
Ron and I try to get away from the stressors so many of us are experiencing. Today, we follow a white sandy trail, in need of grading, a preserve on either side. 
If I were a bird, I would see the quiet waters of the intercoastal to the east,  cushioned by mangroves and occasionally spotted with cottages. On the west, I would see the unending waters of the Gulf, the sound of its surf now reaching well across this span of sand and preserve.  We are surrounded by saw palmettos and cabbage palms, a stark contrast to the suddenly barren trees of the north with intermittent splashes of white snowflakes.
Today, we reach the end of this sandy trail, a small turnaround, and because no other vehicles are within sight, we stop our car in the middle of the rugged sand. I step down toward the water, hoping for a view of this beautiful expanse of intercoastal but stop short of the opening, discovering a heron, standing in the high tide of this tiny cove. The cove belongs to him. I do not disturb. Instead I stand and listen. In the soft water sounds of this secluded area, I hear Jesus whisper:
“Kathi, do not be afraid of the evil in this world today. One day, The roots of all this darkness will all be disclosed. You are my child. You only need to fear me with a righteous fear of which you have been taught. Speak in the daylight. Speak the truths you have been taught by me. Do so without fear. You see the beautiful heron. I have given him a place of refuge. How much more you are worth to me than the heron. I know everything about you, and I have redeemed you. I am your refuge.”
So now, I encourage you, my friend, to read the following short passage, the words of Jesus, from Matthew, chapter 10, verses 26 – 31, and as you read, to let Jesus whisper to you!
 “Do not be afraid of them, for nothing is hidden that will not be revealed, and nothing is secret that will not be made known. What I say to you in the dark, tell in the light, and what is whispered in your ear, proclaim from the housetops. Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Instead, fear the one who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell. Aren’t two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them falls to the ground apart from your Father’s will. Even all the hairs on your head are numbered. So do not be afraid; you are more valuable than many sparrows.”
His Word brings His whisper – or sometimes a roar! Either way, it is His special message to you.
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Further reading: Isaiah 8:12-13; 4:8-13; Psalm 34.
May God Bless!
Chapter Seven ~ Whispers of Promise
Heartache is hearing her sentence . . .
Heartache is seeing your beautiful daughter handcuffed and taken to jail . . .
Heartache is not being able to hug her . . .
Heartache is answering your grandchildren when they ask if Mom and Dad will be with them for Christmas: “No, honey.”
And Jesus Whispered ~Although the mountains around you are shaken, Kathi, and the hills are broken down, my unfailing love for you will not be shaken, nor will my promise of peace be removed. I am the Lord who has compassion for you and your precious grandchildren.
The evening of the sentencing was especially difficult for all of us. After the children were sound asleep and I had knelt by their beds and prayed, I went back into their bedrooms, checking on them all through the night, whispering one word prayers to the Father: Bless. Comfort. Touch. Heal. Moving about our home throughout those unsettling nights, I felt the presence of the One who never slumbers or sleeps.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
(An excerpt from When Life Roars, Jesus Whispers ~ Chapter 7 ~ Whispers of Promise)
by Kathi Waligora .