Important

I am thinking about a phrase I heard when I was trying to do my best with 4 little ones. I read somewhere, "Put aside urgent things and do important things." My first thought was, "You've got to be kidding!" I was probably on my way to rescue one of my little ones from getting burned by the stove or something that urgent! Or maybe I just thought being to church on time was urgent. (ridiculous!) That phrase has come back to stop me so many times. Important. What is important?
Nancy Sacry would say important is taking time to give you a cup of tea even when she is late for an appointment. I believe no matter when I stopped in her home she would take time for me. I have trusted that on more than one occasion. She has not let me down.
Mom would say there is always time to play a game of cards with one of her children or grandchildren or Terry and I. And she can do it with laughter and a light heart.
Grandma Pyfer said by her actions that important was sitting with an open and accepting attitude, listening, no matter what was being shared or who was sharing it.
To Grandma Cora important was taking time to visit the "old" people in town. This consumed so much of her time when she was 80-96 years old.
For me, I began to realize it was more important to let a dirty shirt stay on my child if disturbing that child to change a shirt showed I cared more about her or him than the people I was trying to impress. ( I still can't leave a dirty face! For me clean faces are important!)
I don't know how young mothers and fathers decide what is important when they both work, both need time to themselves, both need quality time with each of their children and their spouse, both want to give to their church, community, other relatives. It's a daunting thought. But I think some are truly trying and I take my hat off to them. That's so important!

Preschool memories

During my preschool years, maybe I was 3,4 or maybe 5 we lived at the bottom of the road up to the ranch, where the road meets the paved highway now. Our home was a very large white house. Mom told me the other day she could see outside from the inside in some spots. She and Dad's bedroom was right off the living room but the rest of us slept on the second floor. In the wintertime there was no heat upstairs. When it was time for bed we would get up our courage and then dash up the 20 or so stairs and climb quickly under the stack of covers, warm and snug with our siblings. I remember complaining about going to bed but the fun of the run and the snuggle.
Outside of that home, across a rutted driveway was a large very old house. Maybe my parents could tell me what it was and why it was there. I only know we called it "haunted." I stood by our house staring at it but I don't believe I ever entered its scary inside in spite being teased for my fear. It was unpainted, darker wood with no window pains and probably no doors that hooked.
In the front of the house toward the highway (which was not a highway then) was a long sidewalk starting from the wood porch and ending at a huge ant pile. I loved that ant pile and would sit and watch it for a long time. If one of my siblings wanted to break it up I would not have it. I was its protector. It was about a foot high and very fasinating.
My other memory of that place was the day we made our own homemade slide down the 5 or 6 steps off the front porch. We used an old board as our slide. My memory is of lying across Mom's lap, face down as she dug the large splinter out of my behind with a needle.
That house was there a long time after we moved up to the ranch again. Sometime, when I was married and gone from home, it was torn down along with the haunted house and replaced with corrals. I wish I had a picture of it outside of my mind.

Honesty

Over 25 years ago, when we lived in Mississippi I was parked at the clinic where Terry worked. I jumped into the car and put it in reverse without my foot on the brake. I rolled into a car - terry's partner's car. It didn't hit very hard and I thought nothing was wrong. Later Darel told me that it had cost him - I think he said $300 to fix. When he said it I apologized but did not offer to pay the fee. He let it go. I didn't think more of it. But as I've gotten older I've realized how wrong it was.
A few years ago I was in Billings on a Women of Faith trip with a bunch of gals and I was getting out of the truck with the other women. The wind was blowing hard and it caught my door and my door hit the car next to mine. I was in a hurry to catch up with the other ladies. I rubbed the car I'd hit to see what damage was done very quickly. I noticed the nick and tiny dent but did nothing else and went on in.
When I returned to my truck there was a note on my car with a phone number to call. They had my license and wanted me to make amends. It was one of those sports cars and he said it was new and he wanted to repair the dent. I felt terrible then that I hadn't taken the time to right my wrong. I turned it in to our insurance and got it covered. I vowed to myself to be more careful.
Since that time I have opened the car door probably 3 times on other cars. Each time I cringe, be sure it's not dented but each time I have left a little mark = a nick. I've never left my number or acknowledged it in any way.
Recently, because of a friend who was honest about something like this, I was made aware of my own dishonesty in this area. I think of myself as an honest person and yet I continue to do this without being responsible for my actions.
I had a dream this morning that I don't want to go into but I woke up realizing that I have a problem in this area. In analyzing, I realize I need to take accountability somehow to change this kind of action. This is how I plan to do it.
1. On a practical level I want to wait 5 seconds before I open the car door. I want to walk to the car slowly and notice the tires, who is next to me - to just look around.
2. One reason I think I've done this is because I am so caught up in my own world that I don't take the time to notice the physical concerns of others. Since, in the past I didn't value cars and other "things" as much as emotional, spiritual things I did not even think it mattered. This comes from bad theology that separates out some things as spiritual, others as physical. In reality, all things are spiritual and important to God.
3. I want to live in the present. I am so often in my head instead of where I am at in reality. I miss alot of life.
4. I am embarassed to be accountable over and over to people whose cars I nick. And, of course, I don't want my insurance to go up. I will never nick a car again without writing a note to leave.
5. I am writing in my blog because I need others to hold me accountable. I've had years of this habit so I want to change and can't do it alone. If you are reading this, please be gentle, but if you are with me and I do something dishonest, tell me.

Spencer

I am in Philly this week getting a huge grandchildren fix. Terra and Zach's family have "Family Home Evenings" on Mondays. Each person has a responsibility to do their part. Rachel lead the opening song (waving arms and all). Anna said a prayer. Spencer had the lesson. Terra and Zach invited me to help Spencer come up with a lesson so I asked him if he wanted to tell about Jesus washing the feet of his disciples. I said, "You could pretend to be Jesus." He acted kind of negative about it and I thought maybe he just didn't want to do the feet washing thing so I said, "Would you rather do another story like David and Goliath or Daniel and the Lion's Den?" He said, "I want to wash everybody's feet, but NO ONE should be Jesus. He's the only One." Properly chastised, I told him he could wash the feet and no one would be Jesus. I wondered how he would do since he was pretty tired, had been sick with an ear infection, etc. But when our turn came I asked him to tell about people's feet back in Jesus time. He spoke right up, though somewhat shyly, "Mostly they wore sandals so they had dirt and dust on their feet - and toe jam. (He had told me earlier in the week how he had to clean the toe jam out of his toes most nights.) Servants washed their feet but Jesus put on an apron and washed his disciples feet." So we washed everyone's feet, him washing and me drying. It was absolutely precious, especially when he washed Zach's feet. Anna and Rachel loved it too. Then I told about since Jesus served us, we should serve others.
Then Spencer asked each person, "Who serves you, Mom?" (Anna, Rachel, etc.) It was a very precious time to me. It reminded me of times in my life when my own children were so close to God, so trusting in their faith and sensitive to God's Spirit that they taught me.