Through His Eyes

Today I am linking up with the Red Writing Hood over at the red dress club and responding to the prompt – Lesson Learned

I was a new bride. Barely married for a month – still unpacking boxes and opening gifts when I decided to surprise my husband with a romantic dinner for two. I did not know much about cooking 20 plus years ago (some might say I still do not know much) but like many newlywed innocents, I had a vision of a night of fun, romance, candle light, good food and wowing the socks (and a few other items) off my husband. I planned to use my culinary graces to create a a meal he would always remember and to employ my amazing ambiance skills to lavish an intimate, romantic setting on our dining room card table. All I needed, I thought, was a good recipe, some candles and a negligée, and when he walked in the door of our little apartment, he would feel like a king.

But when my husband walked in the door that night – a kingly romantic feast was not what awaited him. I was wearing the negligée, but the table wasn’t set, the dinner was on fire, the smoke detector was going off, the kitchen was filled with smoke, and I was in tears.
My husband greeted me warmly, opened the windows, took the chicken off the stove and began to set the table. He lit the candles, turned on the stereo and graciously served us burnt chicken, crispy vegetables and lopsided strawberry cake for dessert. We talked, we laughed, and he ate every piece of the burnt, dry, tasteless, crispy chicken, every one of the cold-in-the-center-half-frozen vegetables, and never mentioned even once that the cake was geometrically challenged. The evening ended as I had planned – but we did not get there in the way I had envisioned. It wasn’t my love being poured out on him – but his love poured out on me that redeemed what could have been a quite disastrous evening.
I awoke the next morning and turned on the news to learn that the Detroit Pistons had won the Final Championship game over the Los Angeles Lakers while my husband and I ate our “dinner.” Not only did we not watch the game – but my husband never even mentioned that it was on.
Lesson Learned

L is for Lemonade Days

This is one of my favorite pictures. It represents to me what many moms hope for their children – memories of lazy summer days where they haven’t a care in the world - sipping lemonade, lying on the docks, swimming in the pool, building forts and just having fun. For several summers and a few Christmases we packed up the kids and drove 15 hours to Oregon to visit my in-laws. They lived on 11 acres and we would travel there not only to see them, but also to build precious childhood memories for our children. Memories of endless summer days when the toughest decision you have to make is what flavor of snow cone you want, the biggest obstacle you must overcome is learning to wait your turn for the slide, and the trickiest problem you will have to solve is how to keep the ice-cream from dripping all over your clothes.

And while those lazy, sweet, lemonade days of young innocent children running around Grandma and Grandpa’s back yard have disappeared, the pleasure those recollections bring have not. I have been blessed – because we were able to create those moments for our children. Many families in our world do not have that option. War, poverty, famine – those are the realities many moms must deal with. Their hope is for food, adequate shelter and clean water for their children. And as we approach Mother’s Day, I cannot help but think of those moms, who love their children no less, who hope for their children no less and who long for their children to have the necessities they cannot provide. They do not have the luxury of lemonade days. And I know it is a luxury – and I do not take it for granted.

I am grateful for organizations that do more than remember there are those in our world who do not have. Organizations like World Vision, the Eden Project and our church just to mention a few of the many that are about helping those in need. Our own daughter will be spending 8 months working with people in places all over the world who do not have the luxury of lemonade days and I hope that she will be able to bring that to them – a moment in time the children will remember, a time when God broke in and gave them love, compassion, and grace.

I still hope lemonade days for my children. I still want them to come home and feel relaxed, like they haven’t a care in the world, like the biggest issue in their life is choosing between lemonade and iced-tea while they sit by the pool. But I want that for them so that they can be refreshed and refueled to go out and pour their energy into actual problems of the world, so that they have the passion and the drive to do the work that God has created for them to do and in doing so, may they bring a touch of lemonade days to anyone God puts in their paths.