My day-of-the-funeral gifted copy of “Streams In The Desert” is highlighted, underlined, scribbled in, and noted with multi-year’s dates. This May 7th partial entry caught my attention in 2012, 13, 15, and 16.

 

“…prayer not only is calling upon God but is also a battle with Satan…God uses our intercession as a mighty weapon of victory in the conflict…”

 

 

For we are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies,

 

but against evil rulers and authorities

 

of the unseen world,

 

against mighty powers in this dark world,

 

and against evil spirits in the heavenly places.

Ephesians 6:12

 

 

Star wars aren’t a figment of anyone’s imagination; and spiritual battles are fought with spiritual weapons.

 

I’ve never doubted the spiritual personage authenticity of Satan; anymore than I’ve ever doubted the spiritual personage authenticity of God. But I’ve also never ever doubted knowing Who holds total final authority over whom.

 

I know the power of prayer; and I know firsthand that another’s prayer can be sensed and felt. I know the presence of the Holy Spirit in the same way—an almost palpable scoop-it-up-in-my-hands sense of presence.

 

Maybe I’m living out my 2016 word exhilaration—loosely translated to mean that I’m pretty much past being bothered by what other people think; or maybe the oxygen’s just thinner at my newly reached altitude of red and purple.

 

Whatever.

 

It’s time to speak honestly about things that are real.

 

Amen.

 

(Hubble telescope photo)

 

Years ago, during the week prior to Mother’s Day, a local radio station ran a listener-driven piece called “What’s Your Mom-ism”? The gist of it was to identify whatever phrase your mom repeated to you the most times while growing up.

 

I had no difficulty recalling my mother’s words, but was far more interested in my own young adult kids’ memories; and wasted no time putting the question to each of them.

 

April’s answer, “It’s healthy to make yourself do things that make you feel uncomfortable—given that they’re legal, ethical, and moral.”

 

Joshua remembered, “Now…let’s think about this logically…”.

 

I was pleased with their answers; and do remember saying those things a lot. I also remember repeatedly saying, and was a little concerned it might be at the top for Joshua, “I don’t care if you are in bed, get back in here and turn your dirty socks right side out”. Whew! What a miss that would be, if those words were the loudest ones hollering out of the past. Although, in my quest-for-clean-socks defense, he actually called me after he got married and told me that he appreciated my diligence—because it sure made doing his adult laundry easier.

 

Maybe it has something to do with recently reaching the age of red and purple, but when I saw two small books “Forever My Little Boy” and “Forever My Little Girl” in a gift shop display last month—I bought them; and now they’re personalized with some tiny details of the young family that we once were. Time moves forward and I wouldn’t change a thing—wouldn’t go back any number of days because I’d never ever want to live through the sad bad awful ones again; BUT I will forever rejoice that I, along with their dad, was blessed by God to raise such awesome kids.

 

 

You saw me before I was born.

 

Every day of my life was recorded in your book.

 

Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed.

Psalm 139:16

 

Dear Goody –

 

I didn’t know Bryson had a secret assignment when we headed west toward Bryan-College Station back in March; but, as it turned out, he was there to stretch out the drive just as long as he possibly could. Evidently, coordinating a surprise party for my significant birthday was taking its toll on the planners.

 

 

Mama Jan, could we stop and take a picture of me in front of the Indian Mounds in Alto? It’s sort of a school project.

 

Mama Jan, I’ve never been able to stop and read any of these historical markers along El Camino Real.

 

Mama Jan, we’re just fine with you stopping again and taking more pictures of more wildflowers, aren’t we Corbin? (Silence from the back seat)

 

You know, I always say it’s not the journey—it’s the destination. Isn’t that right, Mama Jan?

 

Mama Jan, I’d love to turn around and go back and see that 1848 Pepper Tree up close. Would you take my picture?

 

Mama Jan, that historical marker in front of the Tejas State Park entrance had some really interesting information.

 

 

Goody, it was so funny listening to him and thinking about how mature he sounded and realizing that he’s nearly all grown up. When I asked about his future plans, I could hear his voice speaking the words I’ve heard you say about him ever since he was a little boy.

 

 

I love learning and I’m interested in so many different things.

 

My grades are really good, even Math.

 

I’m considering a lot of different career options.

 

I have so many different interests.

 

There are just so many different things I could do with my future life.

 

 

 

Good job, Goody; good job.

 

 

 

So teach us to number our days,

 

that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.

Psalm 90:12

 

 

 

 

I asked Faith Cora if her baby brother knew his name; and if he looked at her, when she called it. She immediately ran to his resting place on the sofa, put her little mouth down to his ear and hollered, “CHAIR WEAF”!! Sure enough, he turned and looked.

 

Mama Jan is struggling a little tiny bit to replace Chair Leaf with Abram. While theoretically I agree that Abram Michael is a better name for a year 2016 non-hippie child, it’s hard to let go of Faith Cora’s whimsical moniker.

 

I also inquired if he had a nickname, and sure enough he does: Pillow.

 

Our conversations range all the way from her honest-to-goodness-application-grasp of a vortex and an interloper to imaginary talking squirrels named Salt and Pepper. Her words and knowledge make me think, smile, and oftentimes swell with pride.

 

I hope my life and conversations with my Father are doing the same. I know he wants to smile at me because he told me so in a win-win loop around blessing in his book of Numbers:

 

Then the Lord said to Moses,

 

“Tell Aaron and his sons to bless the people of Israel

 

with this special blessing:

 

‘May the Lord bless you

and protect you.

 

May the Lord smile on you

and be gracious to you.

 

May the Lord show you his favor

and give you his peace.’

 

Whenever Aaron and his sons

 

bless the people of Israel in my name,

 

I myself will bless them.”

 

Numbers 6:22-27

 

 

Would it hurt your feelings if I used your given name as my habitual just-for-added-emphasis word? If I didn’t mean anything personal by it, but just used it to punctuate my sentences; and if I coupled your name with a few other choice words—would you mind? Could we still be friends—and would you overlook my casual disrespect—especially if something really bad happened to me and I needed your help more than anything else?

 

Jesus’ words are so powerful. I often have to pause and mull—because how else could I ever absorb their fullness? I can only imagine his disciples trying to drink from that torrent of word-wisdom during those last hurried hours before the cross.

 

 

 

Now I am departing from the world;

 

they are staying in this world,

 

but I am coming to you.

 

Holy Father, you have given me your name;

 

now protect them by the power of your name

 

so that they will be united just as we are.

 

During my time here, I protected them

 

by the power of the name you gave me…

 

John 17:11-12

 

 

Name. Power. Protection. Amen.