Sweet Memories

In November of 1992, I unknowingly started a tradition in our family which all seven of us have grown to love.

Murray was gone for the weekend for a work meeting, and I was home with Rebecca, two years old, and Sarah, ten months. The girls said and did so many cute things I was afraid I’d forget to tell Murray about, so I wrote them down.

We now have a notebook filled with more than 200 pages of things the kids have said over the years.

They have been such a joy to Murray and me, reminding us of things we otherwise would have forgotten. To our surprise, the kids love looking at them too.

Knowing how much young parents long for advice from older parents, we always recommend that people with small children do this as well.

I thought for fun, I’d start looking through them and picking out a few to share. If you come to visit us, we’ll be happy to show you the book itself and let you enjoy it as much as you like. We shamelessly have no doubt you will find great enjoyment in it.

November 6, 1992:

“I was holding Rebecca earlier, and she patted me and said, ‘Daddy.’  I said, ‘I'm Mommy.’  She said, ‘You're Daddy.  You're Daddy, Mommy.’"

November 7, 1992:

“This morning, I told Rebecca that I loved her.  I asked her who else loved her.  She said that Daddy did, and Sarah, and Caleb.  (This was a month before Caleb came to live with us.) I said, ‘I love you.’  She said, ‘I love Garrison.’” (Garrison was a little boy from church. Often Rebecca either said she loved Garrison, or he loved her. Murray and I kept telling each other, “We’ve got to talk to that boy’s parents.”)

“Later, I was taking a shower.  When I was done I heard Sarah crying in her playpen.  Rebecca was singing ‘Jesus loves me.’” (Trying to cheer her crying sister up.)

“I came into the dining room and sat down with Rebecca.  Sarah was in the living room, playing with some blocks.  Rebecca started stuffing chips into my mouth.  She said, ‘Look, Sarah, I'm feeding Mommy.’ When she'd fed me the last chip, she said, ‘I'm all done.’"

“A couple times in the last couple days I've asked Rebecca if she could tell me where Sarah's bottle has fallen in the kitchen.  (Rebecca would have been in the dining room, looking at me over the baby gate.) She's said that it's ‘by’ this or that.  And as I get down and feel around for it, she's said, ‘Right--right--right—‘  And this afternoon, as I obviously didn't move the way she wanted me toward the bottle, she said, ‘Right--Mommy!’ obviously frustrated.”

I do hope you find this fun, but I promise, it definitely made me smile.

Grace and Truth 4, John 2:1-12

Jesus turned water into wine.

This passage has created many conversations. Was the drink Jesus created really wine? Should he have provided so much wine? Was he disrespectful to his mother?

I want to talk about his interaction with his mother.

A footnote in my Bible says that the Greek word for woman shows no disrespect. I think Jesus’ action here showed much respect for his mother.

Mary shows no sign of feeling disrespected. She tells the servants to do whatever Jesus tells them to. She expected her son to obey her and help out with the problem at the party.

Jesus did obey his mother. It says this miracle helped his disciples to believe in him. Was that the reason Jesus did it?

I don’t know why Jesus did it—to help out the friends at the party; to be respectful to his mother; to show his power to his disciples.

I don’t know that it matters why. All the above were accomplished. I think it showed a fun interaction between Jesus and his mother.

Even though he’s grown, and even though Mary knows Jesus is the Messiah, she still feels comfortable in approaching Jesus and asking for help.

Jesus feels comfortable having a little disagreement with his mom. Or was he teaching her a lesson as one of his followers?

Mary doesn’t feel wronged; she is confident in what her son, and her Lord, will do.

To me, the interaction shows humor and love between a mother and son and between God and a believer.

New Scientific Theory

The sense of smell is much more enjoyable than the sense of taste.

This is a well-researched scientific theory I just made up.

I love to eat. Foods taste great. Yummy.

But smelling is better.

The other day, I made a cup of apple cinnamon tea. When it was heating, I thought, “Wow. That smells like apple pie.” When I drank it, did I have the sensation of a luscious slice of pie? No, it was just tea, with a slight hint of apple.

Have you met people who say, “I love the smell of coffee cooking, but I can’t teach myself to like the taste?” I have.

And I almost understand.

I love coffee, to drink it. Hot and strong, and black, no sugar. Love it.

But I have to admit, when Murray is making a pot of coffee, and I smell the fresh grounds percolating, that grabs my attention much more than drinking it.

Murray sometimes has toast for breakfast. I don’t usually eat breakfast, and I don’t want to. But when I smell the toasting, I think, “Mmm, warm toast with butter. Yummy.”

What about the smell of baking bread? Frying onions? Awww. Wow.

Now I love to eat homemade bread. And I love eating a hamburger with onions, or chili, or fried potatoes with onions. But none of it beats the smell.

My friend Linda pointed out that some things which smell so delicious certainly do not taste that way. Flowers. Expensive French perfume. I love the citric smell of my disinfectant spray in the bathroom, but I sure don’t want to taste it.

I’ve thanked God for years for giving us food to meet our nutritional needs. After all, he could just have chosen to give it all to us in the water we drink. But he chose to grant us the gift of food to meet our body’s needs for growth and continued strength.

I’m starting to think that the gift of smell, while certainly useful for warning us of danger and other practical things—like when a baby’s diaper needs changed—is mainly just a gift of pleasure.

Thank you, Lord.