Welcome guest writer Kristin Boyd to Words With Reason! When life gave her lemons she turned it into the funny, inspiring and clever blog “The Laid-Off Diaries”. Kristin has a fresh way of relating and reaching the reader. She puts zest in the daily duties of life! I hope you will join me in reading the latest of the wonderful writer’s wacky observations. And if you like what you read consider voting for her HERE for Best Freelance Writer in the Best of Berks 2013 voting poll. She definitely deserves to be the reigning champ! Enjoy and may it bring a smile to your day as you decide to Chose Joy! Read on: Quote of the Week ….
It was one of those mornings where coffee was not the only thing brewing. Beastly internalized burdens were brewing beneath the surface. The surface of the smiling little sister being brave. And in this misleading mellow off we went to school.
Then the floodgates burst and the burden couldn’t remain bolstered any longer. “My belly hurts…bad!”
Oh, no, not the stomach bug going around. I do not want that , Lord, no!
But then…We witnessed a panic from our normally peaceful princess that broke our hearts and showed brokenness in hers. We never saw her so fragile and flustered and frazzled. What could be so terrible…so gut twisting that all she can tell is “It hurts…it aches!”
When all was fine and figured out that morning a belly ache was really a brother ache. For the first time ever her beloved big brother was in a different school building. Her Dad and I looked at each other and the light went on.
So we prayed. We prayed against the bullying of fear and not a stomach bug. She went on with this day, not sure where it would go and left with my heart.
“Why, why would you be so sad I’m not at your school this year?” My eldest son asks his little and only sister.
He asks her this at dinner when she is most comfortable to tell the tale of her day. A day that for her was filled with worry. Filled with not
the unknown but of the on-her-own.
“Because Bubby.” Pausing , not wanting to admit her heart misses him so. My heart smiles with the knowledge his face gives way that
heartstrings were played at the mention of loving nicknames.
“Bubby” is reserved for love. “Bub” however, means business.
She continues, “Because, I just want to know you are there.” And her voice trembles and her eyes are heavy, burdened. So is my heart.
Cameron sighs. A sigh signifying struggle. A battle between loyalty to little sisters means open-fire with friends.
Being a big brother bears a big burden, but God promises His yoke is easy and His burden is light. Light into a dark world.
The world needs more Big Brothers.
Not the kind that hide behind surveillance cameras.
The world needs Big brothers that are brother’s in arms, brave and protective, burden bearers, light bearers, lighten-the-load-bearing-gentlemen, virtuous and men of their word using The Word.
Big brother Cameron sighs heavy and deep. He says, “I’ll sit next to you on the bus” and it’s a beautiful sacrifice.
This year was his year. The oldest in the peculiar pecking order of elementary status. As the oldest represented grade on the bus
the back seats belonged to him and his buddies. He chose to sacrifice it. “My yoke is easy, my burden is light.”
Beautiful burden bearing , the lead setting the stage for his younger brothers success. He ,with one spoken promise, lays down the heavy
and picks up the light. It shines all over our family. “…...My burden is light.“
It touches every one of us, releasing the grip of achy worry worn on my mommy heart. HIS burden is light.
Releasing the worry wrinkles on Daddy’s apple holders. HIS yoke is easy. And I see the little one, the little sister. She bore the burden the deepest and she…. is…. light.
Matthew 11:29-30 (EXB)
29 ·Accept my teachings [L Take my yoke upon you] and learn from me, because I am gentle and humble in ·spirit [heart], and you will find rest for your ·lives [souls; Jer. 6:16]. 30 ·The burden that I ask you to accept [L …because my yoke] is easy; ·the load I give you to carry and my burden is light.”
Joseph Thayer McCray….
Our Grandpa…a Grand man…husband, father, farmer, friend.
Always living and loving in a manner where faith and family are first. A Papa who set a pattern of
Diligence, who daily lived out whispered wisdom: If you’re honest in small things, you’ll be
honest in big things (Luke 16:10)
Fatherless at the early age of 11 still full of faith. He held to promises of a heavenly Father: A Father
of the fatherless and a judge and protector of the widows is God in His holy habitation.
He chose to anchor his life into deepness. He grabbed onto deep things like generosity, kindness….love.
So. Much. love.
So when hard times came He could dig into the deep and spring a well. Pull up fruit not
easily shaken or taken. May Christ through your faith actually dwell (settle down, abide,
make His permanent home) in your hearts! May you be rooted deep in love and founded
securely on love.(Ephesians 3:17)
Deep love for God, deep love for others… We all loved the deepness in his voice.
Farmers work in the deep…deep dew of the early morning. The deep muck and mire and produce life
giving products. Farmers work parallel to the heartbeat of God… Therefore, my beloved brethren,
be firm (steadfast), immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord,
knowing and being continually aware that your labor in the Lord is never wasted. (1 Cor. 15:58)
Farming…a lifestyle that made him steadfast in times of plenty and times of want…always greeting life
with gratitude, encouraging people with quite confidence. Steadfast to his beloved Eleanor for 67
years, immovable love, abounding and abiding. Steadfast love with ” labor that is never wasted”
and raised up two bouncing boy blessings and a rose named Sharon. Raising them up on tall shoulders
, as all good fathers do, so they could go further than he ever could. Raising them by grounding them in
those deep roots of faith and of family.
All of this shaped our beloved Grandpa Moo; dairy farmer, bus driver, Sunday school teacher, father,
grandfather, great-grandfather. And all of this shaped us. Is still shaping us. Shaping a legacy deeply rooted in
discipline…deeply rooted in love….deeply rooted in PRAYER.
Call to Me and I will answer you and show you great and mighty things, fenced in and hidden, which you do not know. (Jeremiah 33:3)
Prayer is the deepest established root of his branch on the family tree…powerful promises between a
man and God. Promises spoken and believed over his family…each member, each day. The power of
prayer– It is a forever gift. God’s word living over each one of us…a faithful God blessing a faithful
man’s family. ” But I will show faithful love to a thousand generations of those who love me and follow my
commandments. ” (Exodus 20:6)
It is living in the children ,the grand and great. It’s easily seen as God has purposely
painted remembrances of Grandpa’s smile and joy in them. It’s an honorarium heard in the soft
melodies of the voices in the McCray men. Familiar echoes of him can be seen in the hands and ears
of my children. Holding my youngest really means still holding a piece of him…“I’m setting up my
covenant with you including your children who will come after you…(Genesis 9:8)”
Holding them, holding each other…holds on to him.
We will have all of eternity to hold on to love because of what Joseph Thayer McCray held onto.
Joseph means “He will add”. Thayer means “soldier, or army of the nation”. McCray means “son of
grace and prosperity.” God threading his life through the meaning of his name…spoken words giving life
like the spoken words of a prayer.
I am watching my son build Legos and the Legos begin to build a man.
Each intentionally placed block locked into place by a logical, analytical mind.
As each fine motor skill steadies to finish brick-block beauty, I receive flashes of chubby fingers, a fine feast of cheeks and soft, irresistible ears. I watch, wistfully. Caught
off-guard by the nostalgia happening in the moment. I watch those hands, shape Lego
destinies. I hear directives given and see little brother Cian carry them out.
I see hands that prayed for that brother to exist, arms that held that answer to prayer.
My eldest, once -my -only……. a foreman, a sometimes patient teacher, a protector. All in this moment of squares, sequenced and colored.
The picture builds within me of the shaper God intended him to be.
He builds Legos now; he will move mountains in moments to come, powerful
moments, life-changing and life-giving moments.
Moments that will come too soon.
And I am comforted and confident by the God who holds all plans, all building up of little boys to
men. The God who shapes, who fills any gap where grace wasn’t given. The God who fills the boy
and the Mom he trusted that boy to.
More was built today, immeasurably more than I could ever imagine. And secured were moments and promises laid in a foundation of a concrete God.
And those promises will never be broken. (Exodus 20:6… but showing love to a thousand generations of those who love me and keep my commandments.)
Today is Saturday. 12 years ago it was a Saturday. It was the most beautiful, rainy day and I
remember every moment, and what I was doing at 7am, 8am, 9am, and every second beyond as I
prepared to walk toward my future with you. I’ll never forget the sounds, the smiles, the love, the
promise that would hold our families together for eternity. Our separate lives ended when we met
on a walk that day. I willingly and eagerly met you as you stood handsome and still…waiting.
We paused to pray, and speak promises
to walk the rest of life together, and then we
did, and we have and we will.
And it’s in the meeting and the walking that love lives bold. In the compromise of joining
life together. In the daily pouring out of each other until we are a pooled mess, combined. No longer
reflecting two images, but one glory- gathered image that no one can tear apart. Meshing and
melted we form unity and strength by being poured out and broken. Broken so our pieces can
forever fit together, a puzzle, pushed-together by the Promise Maker.
We set out on this walk that is sometimes a run, sometimes a wander thru wilderness. It’s been a
walk uphill, through the snow, without shoes….and it’s been a walk on the beach. It has always been
with your hand, with your shoulder, and on our knees with His WORD….always and forever. 12
years we have walked together and may we have dozens and dozens more.
You were once a whisper, a dream, a hope , a prayer.
Now you are here.
What was once a lofty thought held in the high heavens
Is now in my arms, to touch, to hold, to admire , to cherish , to love.
I longed for you before I knew you, I loved you before I laid eyes on you…
And when your eyes met mine all time stood still for our love story to begin.
Oh, sweet miracle that I can call my own, how you take my breath away!
I am renewed by the gift of being trusted with you, your care, your safety and I take it all in.
Forcing myself to breathe deep and capture
every angelic look, every cashmere cuddle,
every soothing scent of you.
I know all too well that your life is a gift and to
enjoy each unfolding moment slowly.
Motherhood; a timeless treasure whose moments tick away so fast and
slow. Separately and all at once.
Your brother Cameron gave me my new name of Mom.
Joy and fear overwhelmed me but hope and love anchored all.
I would learn it’s not about providing extravagant living, but rich love and endless grace. And you’ll
be loved well, with experience, because the siblings before you taught me .
I am ready to learn more. From you. And we will go about this new season snuggled, serene, and
tired and taught.
May we learn so well that we never forget…not one melted mess, not one long and trying night, not
one laughter filled day. Never forgetting a day with your presence. Never forgetting one
moment of YOU…one moment of US…one moment of FAMILY.
Because you once were a whisper, a dream, a hope , a prayer.