A concerned voice calls out from the bathrom.  “Gramma!”  I go in the bathroom where the water in the tub has risen to a level close to overflowing.  David has forgotten how to shut off the water.  I shut off the water.  “Thank you gramma, I was afraid!” he confides.  My body is crying, “coffee”!  My brain is wondering how his mother does this everyday with an infant  added to the mix…how I managed to do this and work full-time.

“Gramma, what’s for breakfast?”  This new challenge wakes me me from my musings.  “Hmm, I have eggs and cereal,” I answer heading back to the kitchen.  Arriving in the kitchen, I begin to make coffee—FINALLY.  “Gramma!”

I return to the bathroom.  The rim of the tub is lined with filled to the brim measuring cups and a full mixing bowl. ”I’m ready to get out now,” he rises and, thankfully, knocks all of the containers back into the tub.  I turn to get him a bath towel that is large enough to swaddle him in, “Can I have a warm towel, Gramma?”  There is no warm towel this morning because I forgot to put his towel in the dryer.  I apologize for my memory lapse and his face falls.

After he has been dried and dressed we arrive in the kitchen.  “So, what would you like for breakfast?” I ask.  “Eggs and cereal!” he answers.  You and I know that I wasn’t announcing the menu when I told him earlier what I had available for breakfast.  But four year olds are quite literal.  We agree to begin with cereal. As I pour the cereal into the bowl I am informed that milk will be required.  (Duh!)  As I serve the bowl of cereal with milk he tells me that he is thirsty.  I reach for a coffee mug and the coffee pot.

“Gramma, I am thirsty!”  I hope I am not glaring as I turn and impatiently declare, “I heard you.  But you will have to wait.  I have to wash out the pitcher and make more juice and I thought that maybe I could drink a cup of coffee while I did that.”  Silently we watch each other across the counter.  I turn away, wash out the pitcher, make juice, pour him a glass AND join him at the table with my coffee.

“Gramma…”

“Good morning, Grandson.”

But I have finished 3 prayer shawls and finally caught up on my e-mail.  I’ve had quality time with family, including grandchildren.  I’ve been pretty good about keeping my house clean, getting my laundry done, going grocery shopping, and cooking meals at home (if you know me you are shocked by this).  I’m getting my bills paid on-time too.

What does all this mean?  Nothing.  I am just making an assessment.  In the program this might be a step in a daily inventory.  Am I procrastinating?  Am I suffering from depression?  Am I overbooking myself outside the home (my days are often spent taking people places).  Do  I need to reexamine my priorities?

God first.  And everything falls into place from there.  How much God time can I allow myself?  Is there such a thing as to much God time?  I hope not!  I love studying the bible and reading about God’s love and His all-sufficient grace.  I love the time we spend in worship at DCCC.  To me that is when heaven is here on earth.

Mom Barb and I spent about 4 hours this morning searching for the scriptures that best illustrate our community house ministry.  My mom teaches like Jesus—you live with her and she walks along side of you and by word and example she sows into you what you need to do once you have been saved.  The Bible says we are to work out our salvation—mom demonstrates how to do that.

But she has never written down the “business plan” of the ministry.  By trial and error, she and Pastor Mark have realized that the time has come to do that.  And as many of you already know, because you know me, I love to write.  So, I will be organizing our discussions at table meetings and the scriptures we’ve chosen into a document that will introduce potential “family members” to our community—who we are, what we do, how and why it works, and the basic rules we live by.

I pray that the end product will glorify God and will edify our ministry.  I hope you will join me in this prayer.

We meet Tuesday mornings from 9:45A until almost noon.  I was with my daughter this week.  She was experiencing vertigo and needed to go to the walk-in clinic.  Anyway, studying on my own isn’t as much fun as studying with the group.

Maybe in the weeks that come I can share what I am learning here.  Stay tuned.

And now, I’ve tried to locate you on-line and you aren’t where I thought you might be.  I suppose I could pay to use one of those people search companies, but then what?  If you are still sucking air and taking up space, we’d face the same dilemma.

We think of you often, with affection.  No bad feelings.  You are loved.  We hold onto the happiness that you brought into our lives.  You know, take what you like and leave the rest.  Where ever you are, thank you for walking a healing  journey with me.

So, imagine my surprise on Friday night when I went out with my youngest and middle daughter, the middle’s husband, their son and their roommate and at our destination we met up with my oldest, my brother and his wife.  It was in a coffee house with live music so there wasn’t a lot of pressure for conversation.  Still, it was all a little strange and unexpected.

Our family used to have holiday get-togethers at my grandma’s house.  I showed up for those for awhile.  Never really fit in, kind of the blacksheep.  When my mom passed away in 98 or 99, those get togethers stopped.  Yeah, the last one was her funeral.  When grandma passed away I saw a lot of the extended family again.  But that was it for years, until last night.

I don’t have much in common with most of my family anymore.  It’s kind of sad.  I mean, I was adopted, so I can’t even say we have genes in common.  I suppose I could stand up and set the record straight, but nobody really wants to deal with the truth anyway…we’re all older and set in our ways.  It’s best that I moved on, right?