He Giveth More Grace

He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater;
He sendeth more strength when the labors increase.
To added affliction He addeth His mercy;
To multiplied trials, His multiplied peace.

When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources,
Our Father’s full giving is only begun.

His love has no limit; His grace has no measure.
His pow’r has no boundary known unto men.
For out of His infinite riches in Jesus,
He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again!

Annie Johnson Flint, 1866-1932

Watching Noah Grow

Every Wednesday afternoon, I pick up Noah Fredrick at his daycare near our home.  It is a lively place, full of precious children, teachers, helpers and activities.   Noah loves it when ”Nan” (that would be me!) can come and get him.  When I arrive at the daycare, I punch in the codes to gain access to the building, go down the stairs and if the weather is good, go through the building to the walk-out door into the playground.  It is fenced and full of little ones, climbing  on the giant, colorful slides or swinging on the tire swing.  The smaller kids are usually playing with balls or trucks or digging through the wood chips for “worms” and any other crawling critters.  There is great excitement if they find anything that is moving.  I have taught Noah to “hurt no living thing” at his young age.

When I emerge from the door going outside, I scan the whole playground for my youngest grandson and he is easy to spot as he is the only one wearing sunglasses religiously.  He left eye has a slightly droopy lid that will require surgery sometime before he goes to kindergarten and we protect it from the sun by keeping sunglasses on him when it is sunny.  He is very obedient about keeping them on and taking care of the pair he is wearing for that day–we have about five or six pairs so we are never without them.  That’s pretty good for a four-year-old boy in my estimation.  When the children see me coming out, they all swarm over to me and everyone is talking at once.  Skyler, Ethan, Landon, Jack, Jensen, Nonno, Ella, Jordan, Aiden, Ward, and Zach are all vying for my time and attention and they all have something they want to say.  There are 16 children in Noah’s group and other groups play in the same area.  Although there are a couple of teachers and several helpers monitoring the play area, I realize these kids just want somebody to listen to them and they know “Noah’s Nan” will give them each a chance to talk.

Skyler is a tiny little boy with long blonde hair and cute as a button.  He has a “bat” story (about a live, black flying one)  to tell me  over and over.  His Mom had to kill one once.  And it scared him.  Noah told him Jesus has a BIG SWORD and He can kill it for him!  Jack is a very special child and very lovable, but he bites.  Noah has made Jack his special project to ”help” so he’s not in trouble all the time.  I know Jack’s young mother and she told me her son is borderline autistic.  One day when I went to pick him up, I opened the door and there was Noah with a football in his hands.  Jack had a small basketball and they were trying to hit the hoop on the short  basketball stand we donated to the daycare as Noah wasn’t interested in playing with it here alone.  He told Jack to watch him and he ran up and threw the football into the hoop above his head.  “Now, Jack, just throw it up and you can do it!  Just try it!”  Noah coached him.  And so, Jack, encouraged by his little friend, gave it a try and made the basket!  “That’s the way.  You did it!  Look, Nan, he did it!”  I smile my approval.  After that, Jack made several baskets.  Before we left, he said, “Wait, Nan!  I want to give Jack a hug.    He ran back and gave Jack a big hug around his middle and Jack hugged him back around his middle.  I was so proud of Noah Fredrick.  Noah is God’s little boy and he loves all the children, even Ethan who is a whole head taller than he is. . .Ethan never misses a chance to show me his “muscles” and he is very big for a child his age and very strong.  Jensen is the sweetest little girl I’ve ever seen and she loves Noah Fredrick.  Noah says she is his girlfriend because she is sweet–that is until Sidney came to the school.  Noah likes Sidney, too.   Nonno is an African-American child and he and Noah play together a lot.  These three and four-year-olds hug each other when they say goodbye.  I think that is priceless!  It is spontaneous and not prompted, they just do it!

We head for the car and buckle up and Noah suggests we stop for an iced cream cone at McDonald’s.  NOT BEFORE DINNER!  I explain to him its sometimes YES and sometimes NO.  Just like when we go shopping together.  He accepts my decision.  We arrive at my house and he checks to see if his outside toys are where they are supposed to be. . .in the out building or on the patio.  If it’s nice, he plays a few minutes and then I tell him we have to go inside and have something to eat because we have to go to Cubbies at Galilee Church and we don’t want to miss the Pledge of Allegiance.  He agrees and runs to the door, looking for Papa on the way into the house.  I fix a light supper for us and he puts on the Puggles shirt from last year; he carries his little Bible and two quarters in his hand and we make the short drive to Church.  

The Awana group at our little Church has about 30 kids in it, sometimes a little less, sometimes a little more.  His teacher is Miss Rachel this year and he is now beginning to learn Bible verses.  As we enter the Church building, he is greeted by nearly every kid there and called by name.  In fact, most of the kids know his name and all the junior and adult workers speak to him.  He loves that!  We gather in the auditorium first and say the Pledge of Allegiance to the American flag which he knows perfectly and the Awana pledge which I do not know perfectly.  But then, I’ve never worked in Awanas.  I sit in the back row and watch and pray as they sing some songs and Noah knows all the songs, almost word for word.  He marches, claps his hands, raises his arms and can keep up with all the older kids in singing  their favorite songs. (This week Noah got his Cubbies vest which means we will put the Puggles shirt away–he can barely fit into it now.)  Then Pastor Mark prays with the children and gives a short lesson from the Bible involving responses from the kids.  Noah listens well and is learning not to run in the Church.  He absolutely loves to go to Church.

If he is a good boy, we drive through some place and get a milk shake or a vanilla iced cream cone on the way home.  The whole thing lasts about an hour and a half and back to my house we go where his Mom picks him up a little after eight o’clock.  This will be the third year I have taken Noah to Awanas, aged two, three and four-year-old classes.  I expect his Mom to take him to their own Church next year if they have something going by then for that age group.  They do attend Church and Children’s Church at the new little work, a recently planted Church where Kathy and her two brothers’ families go for worship services.  I am very blessed to have three grown children who are believers in the Lord Jesus Christ and they are all in Church.

On Friday nights, Noah is a sleep-over bear and he always comes to spend the night with Nana and Papa.  Last week, I was fixing lunch on Saturday and he was a little too quiet.  I kept talking to him from the kitchen, and he was answering but then it was just dead silence.  I called for him to come into the kitchen.  He came in and the whole front of his hair was missing.  I tried to keep a straight face.  “Honey, did you have your scissors out of the drawer?”  His three year pre-school teacher gave all the children a pair of blunt end scissors and crayons when they left her class.  I let him use them if I am in the room and we keep them in a  drawer in a low table where he cuts and colors.  “Yes, Nan, I did.  I was playing with them,” he said sheepishly.   “Well,” I asked, “Exactly where were you playing with them?”  “Right in here by my train table where the hair is on the floor,” he said honestly.  “Well, did you cut your hair with the scissors, Noah?” I asked.  “Well, yes, but Nan!  I needed a haircut so I just did it!”  Noah is usually very honest and quick to fess up if he does something wrong.   I went in to survery the damage.  The hair was right where he said it was, in a little pile on the floor near the train table.  (To tell you the truth, I wasn’t surprised it happened.  I  have been expecting this to happen sometime; I just felt bad that it happened on my watch.)  I told him Mommy probably wasn’t going to like it and talked to him about the whole event.  He assured me he had put the scissors back in the drawer and took me over to the little table to show me they were back in their place.  We then proceeded to have lunch and wait for his Mother to pick him up.  Needlesstoday, when Mom arrived, she was not happy about the haircut.  I was quiet and let them work it out.  She corrected him and right after Church the next day, she wisked him off to the beauty shop and corrected the haircut–he got a very short one this time to even it all out.  When he came back the next Wednesday, he wanted to know if he could wear Papa’s hat.  This worked out pretty well as he has hardly any hair right now! 

Last night, I took some pictures of the trees which are turning really bright colors right now up here on the hill.  Noah chatted excitedly as he showed me that Jack Frost had been here to paint the trees, “but he doesn’t come during the day, he only comes at night so we can what he’s been doing when we wake up early in the morning” he said matter-of-factly.  He could hardly wait to get out of his car seat so he could pick up some of the pretty red ones for me.  It was just before the sun went down and I knew the rains were coming soon.  Noah would rather be outside than anywhere and we had time before Church for him to play on his tire swing.  Papa placed it carefully very close to the ground so he wouldn’t get hurt if he fell off.  He decided  he wanted to be “an airplane” and it occurred to me he is getting pretty brave now on the swing.  He certainly looked like an airplane with his little arms spread way out and he was very happy to be on his swing.  He’s a very positive and  happy little boy.   We stayed out as long as we could and it began to sprinkle rain, so I said we needed to go in and have something to eat before we went to Church.  He wanted to swing one more time and then we went into the  house to get ready for Cubbies.  Where does the time go?  Last year he was a Puggle, and this year he is a Cubbie!  God is so good to let me be a part of Noah’s life for such a time as this!

Taking a Break

My friend Joyce and her husband have a great weekend place near Clear Lake.  This weekend Joyce, my friend Bettye and I went up for a little R & R.  The lakehouse overlooks a lush, green golf course.  I don’t think many people know it is a golf course because only one or two people were on it.  But there were a couple of golf carts and two adventuresome gentlemen up early one morning while we were there ready to try it out.   A pair of binocculars sitting on the cabinet near the sliding door to the porch where we stayed helped me get a better view of things.

 The last time I was in Clear Lake, I really was in the Lake.  I was about 15 and went up with my MYF Church group for the weekend to stay at the Summer home of one of the Church members.  A few of us took a rowboat out and the boys threw one of the paddles out of the boat, so I jumped in to retrieve it.  The water was only about waist deep and when I landed on the bottom, my foot hit a broken glass bottle and it cut my foot wide open.  The counsellors took me to the emergency room and after stitches and bandages, I spent the rest of our time there on a pair of crutches. 

Joyce, Bettye and I have looked forward to going up for the weekend all Summer and we finally did it.  I loved their home away from home. . .very spacious and pleasant.  I stayed in the master suite and everything was very comfortable.  We unloaded all our gear and went to town to have dinner.  We chose a Mexican restaurant and then headed out for Target to pick up a few things for breakfast and bought some things for our grandchildren.

It was quiet in the lakehouse and we visited and watched a little television and then prayed together before bedtime.  It’s great to be with sisters-in-Christ anytime but a mini-vacation is even better!  We were looking forward to checking out some garage sales and shopping.  We got up early the next morning and ate breakfast; then off to the coffee shop in town.  It was very busy and had great flavored coffees and teas and baked goods.  There were smiles all around.  We stopped and made a reservation at the Rose Tea Room for lunch later that day.

Next we went to some garage sales.  I found a small hummingbird feeder for 25 cents and a pair of wooden shoes.  They were child-sized  so I bought them for $1.00.  They reminded me of a pair my  mother used to have around the house when we were kids and we all klunked around in them from time to time.  I thought maybe the little ones in our family would enjoy them, especially the little girls.  We stopped at a flea market called The Country Store and went in looking for a bargain.  I was interested in books.  There was a little cart near the check-out with a number of old books on it and a blonde lady was turning books over and over on it.  She wouldn’t move her shopping cart, so we couldn’t really reach the books, but I did manage to pick up one and she said it was hers.  I asked her if they were Elsie Dinsmore books.  I could see it was a whole set–like sixteen books in all.  I opened the one I had in my hand and it said it was written by Martha Findley.  Wow!  I could hardly believe it.  They were a set of the original ones!  The woman said they were her books and they were only 50 cents each.  I wished we had been there five minutes earlier as I would have purchased the entire set for my granddaughter, Sarah Frances.  I have been looking for a set of those books for her for some time now.   I relinquished the book and we looked at other things in the building, but I didn’t find anything else I was interested in.  Joyce found a child’s version of the Living Bible, very old and out of print.  She bought it. 

We headed back to the tea room for lunch.  What a lovely place!  A very old house very well kept and full of wonderful treasures.  The food was wonderful and we had a piece of frozen raspberry cheesecake for dessert.  I found some little tea bag holders, shaped like a little teapot with purple iris flowers painted on them.  I bought two for another friend who collects iris things.

After lunch, we went to the Mall in Mason City.  We checked out the bookstore, a couple of shops and had a pedicure.  I was a little uncomfortable with the male salon employee working on my feet (I’m not used to painting my toenails) but we enjoyed ourselves.  A little splurge and pampering can be fun.   Then we went shopping.  I was getting tired.  The clerk in the store told us if we would come back the next day and model the clothes we were looking at we could have 20% discount on everything.  The girls quickly agreed they would be back and we left the store giggling like school girls.  Who would guess our unlikely trio of grandmothers would walk the runway the next day?  All women love a good sale!

Friday evening I was thinking about Noah Fredrick, my youngest granson who is four year old.   He usually stays all night with me on Fridays and I wondered what he was doing.  I was lonely for him–we are close.   The next day, we got up early and everyone spent time with the Lord reading and praying in our rooms.  Then we came out for breakfast and discussed the weekly Bible lessons the other two girls are working on right now.  It was great to go barefooted and just hang out together.  We fixed our hair and make-up and went to town.  We stopped for lunch and then went to the “showing”.  We joined 14 other women just like us, ordinary women, who tried on clothing and walked through the Mall together three or four times for a 20% discount!  I took the pictures, as I’d remembered my camera and volunteered to do so.  We had a lot of fun and bought some clothing on sale plus the discount and then we headed for back to the lakehouse.

We packed our things and worked together to make the place nice and tidy.  We changed the beds, washed the sheets and towels and vacuumed the carpets.  Everything was ready for the next bunch who would come up to the Lake.  We would be back home with our families before dark.  What a great weekend we had–just a little getaway for three busy grandmothers!

When I got home, I called Noah Fredrick.  He was glad to hear from his Nan.  “Did you miss me, honey?”  I asked.   “Yes,” he said.  “How was your field trip, Nan?”  Get-aways are fun, but in my heart, grandsons are better.

What say you?

I read an interesting piece this evening by Frances Ridley Havergal in STARLIGHT THROUGH THE SHADOWS in the chapter entitled “MARCHING ORDERS”.  You can read it here:    I thought it was worth posting this evening on the Sovereign Grace Baptist Church website under “Gems & Jewels” where I have the privilege of being a regular contributor.

It is very rich and food for thought.  Frances wrote this probably 150 years ago but look how relevant it is to us today.  It especially touched my heart because I can identify with what she wrote:  I rarely pass up an opportunity to speak a word to anyone who will listen about the honor and majesty of my King, the Lord Jesus Christ. 

What comes out of the mouth is what is in the heart of the one speaking.  At least that’s so with me.  God gave me a new heart and a new mind when he so compassionately drew me to Himself when I least expected it.  People were praying for me and someone was talking to me about God and His attributes.  The truths of the Word of God were spoken to me, many verses from the Bible, some of which I had never heard about by a friend who knew I needed to be saved and forgiven of my sins.  No one had ever explained to me why I was a sinner or that my sins had separated me from the God who created me.  I didn’t know I needed to be reconciled to God through the blood of His Son, Jesus Christ.  He paid the penalty for me, for my sins.  Then, just at the right time and in God’s way, I knelt before a holy God and confessed my sins and cried out for mercy.  In 1974, Jesus changed my life!  He changed me!

Since I met the blessed Saviour, all my wants and desires are for Him alone.  I read His Word and sing about Him and learn from books written by godly men and women the testimonies of their lives, also.  There are so many stories to tell about all His works and all His plans for His people.  I pray about everything and wait on the Lord for His leading and direction in big things and small things.  I want what He wants.  His ways are not my ways.  His way is best.  I’m still under construction and He’s still working on me.

There is never a day when I don’t have an opportunity to talk to someone about the Lord Jesus Christ.  My tongue is the pen of a ready writer. . .I am ready and willing to speak a word for Him, in season and out.  The righteous consider how to speak, how to answer.  What say you?

My husband has been thinking about a new roof for our house.  When I arrived home from an errand the other day, he was sitting and visiting with a man about the price of roofing.  The man was writing out a bid and explaining in detail what he would do for us if we contracted with him for the job.  While they talked about flashing and gutters and the life of the shingles, I was talking to God about the young man and the condition of his soul.  I waited for an opportunity.  When God gave me the opportunity to talk, I asked the man if his wife taught at the Christian Pre-School nearby–I recognized the name, not a common one.  He smiled and said that she did work there.  I told him she was my youngest grandson’s teacher last year and we knew each other.

Now it was his turn to talk.  His face softened and his voice was sincere as he spoke of the virtuous woman he had married.  “Without her. . .”  his voice trailed off and he was full of emotion.  “I’ve only known the Lord for a couple of years,” he said.  “I was raised in the Church and heard the Gospel all my life but I didn’t really understand it.  She confronted me about my life and made me look at myself and God had mercy and dropped the scales from my eyes. . .”  He said he couldn’t say much more because he would tear up and cry.  I thanked him for his testimony and told him how much I respected him for confessing Christ to us.  I then excused myself and went into the house to get a book that came to my mind.  It was a biography of Charles Haddon Spurgeon, a brand new copy.  When I returned,  I asked him if I could give the book to him as a gift.  I told him I thought he would like it.

Jeff said he was going on a trip to the Applachian Mountains next week with two buddies who were believers to hike six miles a day.   He was obviously pleased as he held the book tightly in his hands.  He said he thought he would take it with him to read in the evenings when they camped after a day’s hiking.  When he got up to leave, he looked at my husband and asked permission to hug me, a sister in Christ.  I prayed and asked the Lord to bless him as he reads the book–I’ll be seeing Jeff again one day.  Thank You, Lord, for the opportunity to speak a word for You and to be able to talk to one of Your dear servants, even briefly.  To You be the glory for the things You have done!

The Seasons of Life

This year will be the 50th wedding anniversary of my husband and I.  For the Christian, (that would be me!) I can tell you, the seasons of life will make you strong.  Where has the time gone?  I reminded my husband the other evening about the vows we made to God and each other the day we got married–for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, etc.  We’ve experienced all that and much more. . .through good times and bad the Lord Jesus has been with me.  He’s been with my husband, too in ways that he hasn’t realized.  We need to thank God for all things and do the best we can while we are here on this earth.

In the providence of God, we went furniture shopping last Saturday.  Imagine my surprise when he agreed to go with me.  I have been wanting to spruce up the house for  awhile, patiently waiting for the right time and opportunity to get some painting and cleaning done and replace some things we need.  I’m not a material kind of girl, er great-grandmother, so I am usually good about waiting for things that I think I need.  My husband thinks he has everything he’ll ever need, so we don’t shop a lot, especially for big purchases. 

When we arrived at the furniture store, I prayed a simple prayer:  Lord, You know what we need.  If you want me to replace the sofas, please touch his heart.  If not, it’s okay.  You are enough for me.  And I meant it with all my heart.

I have learned not to demand things from my spouse, but I did make some suggestions about what we should purchase.   I must confess I had made  a couple of trips prior to his going to see what was available and how much it would cost, bearing in mind when my husband says no, he means no.  I found a leather sofa, and a poet’s chair with a matching ottoman.  They were on sale.  I thought we should buy what we needed for the sale price.   And it was the last day of the sale.

It wasn’t going very well.  He didn’t like the chair I found for him, didn’t want the sofa at all and said he was going to the car.  Then a kind gentleman came along and offered to help us.  I asked the man if he would be willing to speak to my husband about the furniture I thought would be best for us. . .he was very helpful.  I tried to be quiet.  I wanted God to turn my husband’s heart to meet my needs.

After a while, the salesman asked my husband if he liked recliner chairs.  He said he had one that would match the sofa. . .we all went to the place in the store where the chair was sitting.  It was the last one in that color and leather like the sofa.  My husband sat down in it and it fit him like a glove.  He laid his head back on the headrest and melted into the chair, putting his arms on the side pillows to rest them.  He closed his eyes and tried to relax.  He opened his eyes and said, “I will buy this chair.  And give her whatever she wants. . .”  That was it.  God had turned his heart and opened his hands to pay for what I needed.  We ordered a sofa, two poet’s chairs with ottomans, and a leather recliner chair–some quality furniture for a very good price on sale!  Now I could choose paint for the walls and new carpeting for a much-needed spruce up before Winter.  I realized driving home this would be the last time we would need these things in our life-time.  We are retired and tired and trying to end well.  I am grateful to God for answering my prayers.

     “The king’s heart is in the hand of the LORD, as the rivers of water:  he turneth it whithersoever he will.”  Proverbs 21:22

Looking into Autumn

The temperature has dropped about 30-40 degrees the past few days and where did Summer go?   We had some rain and then the sunshine seemed to hide itself and the wind picked up.  This season came quickly!

I did notice the monarch
butterflies this past month all beautiful and soaring amid the oak trees, landing now and then on the driveway to contemplate their destination although they are already programmed. . .migrating is essential to their survival and they are here for such a short time.  But I have always loved watching them flutter and dive and raise themselves up and over the house as if they had no boundaries!  God made the butterfly, of course.  One thinks about such things while sitting in a lawn chair just enjoying nature and the warm sunshine of the last days of Summer.

Then the acorns began to fall. . .one day they are attached firmly to the branches of the oak trees all around our property (five huge ones up here on the hill) and then the driveway is sprinkled by all kinds of them, turning brown rather quickly.  The squirrel traffic picks up but my husband often can be seen sweeping the drive with a push broom, hoping to avoid all that crunching.   I can hardly walk across the grass to the out building the ground is so bumpy from all the fallen acrons. . .usually the sign of a hard Winter when they come down this early!

The front patio is covered with spiderwebs and most of the blooming plants have seen better days.  There is one large green fern that swings happily in the wind now.  I haven’t found a safe haven for it before it has to be brought in. . .I’ve never had a green thumb, so will not be able to keep it over the Winter, unfortunately.  It was really grand all Summer!  Noah’s little cabin playhouse will have to be covered with a tarp and tied down.  It’s too heavy to move off the patio.

The back porch is in better shape.  It is a large deck all across the back of the house in full sun most of the time.  I bought two large flowering petunias at the beginning of the season and my husband has faithfully watered them all season.  They are red and white and still blooming brightly.  That is where our two Perky Pet Best Yet hummingbird feeders are still hanging (there is one out front, too) and the hummers are still feeding, though drinking much more right now.  They will be leaving soon, also for their annual migration south.  My husband put one tomato plant, a big one in a planter near the deck railing with a five foot tall wire cage around it and we have tied up the plant several times it has grown so large.  One little bird thinks this is his perch, and he lands on the top of the cage and sits there a good deal of the time, his head moving back and forth like a cuckoo clock between the two feeders hanging at opposite ends of the deck on either side of the blooming petunias.  Hummingbirds are territorial and they tend to cluster at one feeder or another but this little guy “guards” the food like it is his very own.  I will miss the little creatures.  I filled them with fresh nectar today, maybe for the last time.  When they leave, they are gone until the next year.

I turned off the air condidtioner today and turned on the furnace.  It’s chilly inside and out.  I don’t like the wind much and there will be leaves to contend with soon.  On a brighter note, maybe we will have Indian Summer a week or two, usually the end of September or early October.  I hope the guy who is working on my husband’s big tractor fixes it soon–it looks like we are going to need it this year for chopping up the leaves and to get ready for the first snow and ice!   Brrrrrr!  That is what happens when you live on three acres on top of a hill at the end of  a long lane from the highway down below.

Mac, the Least of My Brethren

This story happened in 1978 four years after I surrendered my life to Christ.  I wrote it for a Church mailing at the request of my pastor–it was printed in booklet form–and then picked up by Pacific Garden Mission’s “Unshackled” radio ministry and dramatized and broadcast in eight languages around the world.  About the same time, one of the little booklets found its way to the country of India and an indigenous pastor there wrote me and asked permissin to translate it into Hindi and Telegu, the languages spoken in his province for free tract distribution.  The story in the booklet was based on the Scripture, Matthew 25 and he preached it to his people because they didn’t have clean water to drink, many didn’t have enough food to eat and some were without a home.  God used the truths of the Scripture to bring many people in India to Himself.  I have been involved in this work over 30 years now and the indigenous pastor has planted over 30 people groups.  With the help of some Christians here in the USA, we built an orphanage that houses 60-70 children who but for the grace and mercy of God would be begging, stealing, starving and dying in the streets with no one to care for them.  I have never felt any ownership for the story but am grateful that God chose to use it in such special ways.  To God be the glory!  Sometimes God uses simple things to do a great work and bring glory to Himself!

There are many people in this world who have never known love or kindness.  Sometimes we overlook these people because they are old or unlovely in appearance.  Driving into town one morning, I noticed an elderly man with a cane walking on the side of the road.  It was a sparsely populated area, so I stopped the car.  “Sir, where are you going?  Can I give you a ride?”  He eyed me suspiciously.  I couldn’t imagine him walking three blocks let alone three miles into town.  But that’s just what he seemed to be doing!

He opened the car door.  “Take me to the Post Office, girlie, to the Post Office,” he said.   After some difficulty with his legs, he settled into the front seat of the car.  His clothes were badly soiled and his hands and face were filthy.  And he wore shoes without any socks!  The Post Office was a good ten or fifteen miles away and not in the direction I was headed, but he looked so pitiful I decided to take him anyway.  His name was Mac.  No first name, no last name, just Mac.  He was going to pick up his check–it was the first of the month, wasn’t it?  After some discussion, I explained it was a long time until the first of the month.  He was quite elderly–89 to be exact–with very few teeth.  He said he’d gone without food before. . .I was horrified.  I reached into my purse and gave him my gas money for the week.  He didn’t want to take it, but I insisted.  He told me he lived in an old house by the railroad tracks and invited me to come and visit him sometime.  He wanted me to meet his dog, Queenie.

Later that day, I told my husband, Jerry about the incident.  He was positive the only house near the railroad tracks was an abandoned one across from the junkyard.  Surely Mac did not live in that old place.  That night I prayed for Mac.  I saw the old man several times after that, giving him a ride into town.  I actually looked forward to seeing him.   God gave me a burden for Mac.  One day when I picked him up, he smelled so badly I had to roll the car window down.  I doubt that he ever bathed and his hair was wild and unkempt and his face was unshaven.  He told me he had a daughter in the State of Washington, but he didn’t hear from her very often.  His face lit up when he talked about her.

In his early years, two men had beaten and robbed him, broken his legs and left him in a pig-pen to die.  It was three days before anyone found him.  Lack of medical attention left his legs very crooked and the whole experience filled him with fear and hate.  His productive years were spent working as a painter and a cook.  And he did not use tobacco or alcohol.  He told me he had invested his life savings in a piece of property but a dishonest lawyer had swindled him out of it.  Unable to prove it, he was left penniless.  He said everybody thought he was crazy.  In his younger years, he had studied law.  He recited the names of the Supreme Court Justices to me.  He was not as crazy as some people thought.  I had worked in the Supreme Court of our State and he knew exactly what he was talking about.  Mac had apparently never known real love. . .circumstances in his life had embittered him, crushing his spirit.  He was always talking about fighting and hitting people and guns and knives.  And he didn’t trust anyone now.  Oh, Jesus, how very much You must love him.  You could fill his heart with love and take the hurt away.

I decided to visit Mac.  I drove to the the ramshackled house at the end of the lane, the weeds at the end around the house were as high as my head.  Part of the house was falling down.  “Mac!  Mac! Are you in there?” I called.  “It’s your friend, Sherry and I’ve come to visit you!”  Five big dogs came tumbling out of the house, barking and  growling.  It looked like Queenie & Company.  Mac emerged, shaking his cane at the dogs–he didn’t have many visitors and he didn’t cotton to strangers.  But I was his friend.  He was  obviously delighted to see me.  He introduced me to Queenie and chatted with her as if she were human.  He finally invited me into the house.  My heart was saddened as I looked around.  The floors were dirt and it was very dark inside.  I asked him to leave the door open so I could see where I was walking.  There was no electricity.  I could hear a battery-operated radio blaring somewhere in the next room.  The windows were boarded over.  He told me it was a good house.  It didn’t leak much.  The place reeked of urine and waste.  Some cushions were piled up over in a corner with a couple of old quilts.  They looked like they’d never been washed.  Some old clothes hung on a hook.  Part of a railroad tie stuck out of a wood stove.  I wondered how he had lifted it.  A table with a broken-down chair stood in the middle of the room.  There was no refridgerator.  Some dried foods sat up high on a shelf.

“Where is your water, Mac?”  He took me back through the house to the front door and tapped his cane on an old rusty barrel outside the door.  It was half full of rain water, with bugs and flies floating around in it.  “Catch the run-off,” he said.  “There hasn’t been much rain lately.”  It must have been 100 degrees that day.  I’d never been so thirsty.  I looked at the water and decided my drink could wait.  A shiney axe adorned the doorway, very large with a long handle.  “For robbers and thieves. . .” he said.  His eyes narrowed.  It frightened me a little bit.  There was no doubt in my mind he would use it if necessary.   I wondered if I’d made the right decision in coming alone.  Was he really crazy?  It was beginning to get dark and I wanted to go home.  It was a relief to leave that place.  I couldn’t sleep that night.  It was so hot!  And Mac didn’t even have water fit to drink.  Jesus, doesn’t anybody care about Mac?  I know You care.  How can I help Mac?

The next day, I found our five-gallon picnic jug and filled it with cold, clear water and took it to Mac.  I told him to keep it.  He looked pleased and drank and drank the water.  Queenie had a drink, too.  There were dogs jumping all over the place.  For the next several weeks, I saw to Mac’s needs.  My husband and I went to see him and Jerry gave up six pairs of socks and some warm clothing for later in the year.  My three children and I visited him several times and they were delighted with his lifestyle–it was sort of an adventure to them.  We took him food from time to time and in the summer, we took him ice cream and malts.  Mac talked a lot about his fear of doctors and hospitals.  He would do anything to avoid them   He told me he used herbs and minerals to doctor with and he was rarely sick.  He also had a fear of being locked up in a nursing home and felt “they” were going to come and get him.

Finally, after much persuasion, he agreed to visit our home one afternoon.  We showed him the garden and invited him in for cake.  But what he really wanted was a good cup of coffee.  He sat in the rocking chair near the kitchen door, sipping the coffee and remarked what a fine house we owned.  And I realized how uncomfortable Mac was in our surroundings.  I had seriously considered inviting Mac to come and live with us.  The children loved him.  He could be part of our family, sort of like a Grandpa.  But he would absolutely have to take a bath.  I talked to my husband about the matter.  We could make a bedroom downstairs on the ground level.  We had a walk-out basement with plenty of room.  The dogs could stay outdoors.  Jerry was sympathetic.  He understood my feelings, but what about Mac’s feelings?  How would Mac feel about taking a bath and shaving?  And what would he do all day?  His days were spent foraging for food and wood–his very existence depended on it.  His health was pretty good as he was rarely sick.  And he was free.

I had to admit he was not exactly polished, but I wanted to help him.  I watched him as he sat in my kitchen, a poor, lonely old man.  I didn’t know what to do.  He was already getting restless, wanting to return to Queenie.  I decided to take him back home.  The answer was clear:  Mac was not to live with us.  He didn’t want to!  That is when I learned that what I think is best for other people may not be what they want at all.  I had to  consider what Mac wanted, not what I wanted.

Winter was coming and I was worried about Mac.  I checked out every agency I knew of to try to find help for Mac.  But where could he live with five big dogs, even with only Queenie?  They were like family to him.  Still, I felt led to continue to visit Mac and to continue to pray for him. 

One day, Mac seemed more eager than usual to see me.  “I’ve been waiting for you, girlie.  I want ya’ to cook this for me.”  He pulled a cardboard box from the darkness into the sunlight.  I looked down into the box.  There was a mass of something white in it and it was swarming with maggots and worms.  “I want you to take this home and render it for me, girlie.  Your man willl show you how to do it.”  Jesus, I don’t think I can do it.  The last thing in the world I wanted to do was pick up that box!  But it was so important to him, like a treasure.  He really valued whatever was in that box.  I closed my eyes and picked up the box and put it in the trunk of my car.

When I arrived home, my husband told me it was suet.  He washed it off with water from the garden hose and cut it up into smaller pieces and boiled it into lard.  He said it could be used for making soap or for cooking.  He strained it and sealed up into coffee cans and we delivered it back to Mac the next day.  He was pleased as punch!

I thought about Mac and his life and his ways.  Jesus, what would You do?  I prayed for Mac for several more days and made one last visit to see him.  He was glad to see me.  We talked and talked.  After some time, I turned to him.  “Mac, do you believe in God?”  He looked surprised.  “You mean the G-r-r-reat Lord up in heaven?”  He nodded.  I saw the hope in his eyes.  For many months, I had been building a friendship with Mac, replacing fear and mistrust with love and kindness.  He listened attentively now.  He trusted me.  “Mac, would you like to trade this old house for a better one?  Would you like to go where the water is clean and fresh and clear and live in a better place?  In my Father’s house are many mansions. . .He is preparing one for you.”  I told him that God loved him so much that He gave His only Son to die for him, of a Saviour who died on the cross of Calvary so that whosoever comes to Him may have everlasting life.  I asked Mac if he would like to pray with me.  He threw his old cane down on the dirt floor and reached out to  me.  A tear fell on his cheek.  And we held him and loved him, Jesus and I.  God gave me assurance of his eternal home that day.

The next time I saw Mac, he had a handful of little miniature white Bibles in his pockets.  He said a lady in the dimestore had given them to him.  And he’d saved one for me.  He knew it would please me.  My heart filled with joy as he freely spoke of the G-r-r-eat Lord up in heaven!  Yes, God had a plan for Mac’s life.

During the long cold winter, the road to Mac’s house was impassable.  I did not see him on the highway in the daytime.  But at night, I could see the smoke coming from the chimney of the old house, spiraling upwards into the brisk, cold air.  Many nights as I drove by, I could see the smoke in the distance.  And I cried for Mac.  I thought of that dear old man sitting alone in the dark, listening to his radio, while the world moved on outside.  I prayed incessantly for Mac that winter.  I found comfort in the fact that he was not without hope and he was not alone.  He had the Blessed Hope for which we all wait as believers in Jesus Christ. 

The old house is empty now.  Mac has moved away.  I feared him dead at first, but my husband saw him in another part of town one day.  I later learned he had moved and was living in an old house down by the river where I grew up as a child.  He’d been in a fire and was badly burned  They’d taken him to University Hospitals and he died there.  The story you have just read is true.  Even the name remains the same–only the man was changed!

Jesus changed my life in 1974.  He made me aware of the world around me, full of people with hurts and struggles and needs.  I didn’t notice them before–I was too busy thinking about my own hurts and struggles.  God met my needs through His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ.  Everybody has needs–just like Mac did–people need the Lord.

“For I was hungry, and you gave Me Something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger, and you invited Me in, naked, and you clothed Me. . .Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.”
Matthew 25:35-36, 40

(This story is dedicated to Dorthy, who wanted a copy of the booklet.  See the previous archived post The Missionary Penny.)

Learning with Noah

Most every Friday night, Noah Fredrick wants to be a sleep-over bear.  He stays with Nan and Papa as often as he can. . .last night was no exception.
Papa was watching the races and we retired to the bedroom to watch the movie, “Finding Nemo” for the 50th time.  I’m not kidding–I think I know the script by heart now and so does Noah!  I can tell by the little phrases he quotes frequently directly from the movie.  He does have a sense of humor.

Noah recently got a new DVD about Garfield, a cartoon with four little stories about Garfield’s life.  We keep the cartoon here so when he comes over he can watch it.  When his Mom brought him last night, he laid down in the middle of the carpet face down with his bottom up in the air and his arms straight back and said in a dead-pan voice:  “All the color has gone out of my life. . .” which is the opening line in the new movie.  (Garfield does this while he is in his cat box in the opening scene.)  His mother laughed and laughed.  He can be very funny.  And he is very bright and tender-hearted.

When the movie was over and we got ready for bed, he sat on his knees in the middle of the big bed and he asked if we could talk about God.  I nodded that we could.  I have learned to listen to Noah Fredrick.

Noah:  “Nan, God has the whole world in his hands.  He takes care of everything in the whole wide world, Nan.  Here, let me show you.”  He laid his blanket down (his favorite blanket which is a small blue polka-dotted one) and cupped his hands together.  He began singing in tune.  “He’s got the whole world, in His hands. . .”  he sang a couple of stanzas, didn’t miss a note.
Nan:  “Where did you learn that, Noah?”
Noah:  “From Mimi at Children’s Church, Nan.  She taught it to me.”  And he learned it and believes it, too.  “Everything, Nan.  The whole wide world.  God takes care of it all!” 
Nan:  “Yes, He does, Noah.  He really does!”
Noah:  “I love Jesus, Nan.  And God.  And the Holy Spirit.  And I love you and Papa.  And Mom.”

There were kisses and hugs and we slept with Tigger who has been with us since he was 1 year old–the one with coils who jumps, so he’s hard to cuddle with–and bun-bun, a brown rabbit, and kit-cat, a little kitten, and a soft black baby bear and his favorite blanket.  And, oh yes,  a new airplane that is plastic, pretty big that’s red and yellow.  It’s a transport plane or so he says.  Sometimes he sleeps in his own bed and sometimes he wants to sleep with Nan.   

We woke up early.  It rained during the night and there was lightening and thunder.  So I was surprised when I saw the sunshine peeking through the window blinds this morning.  I moved into the rocking chair and waited for the little guy to get fully awake.  He spotted a little blue book on the table beside my bed and picked it up.  Noah loves to read and he brought it to me and climbed up on his own bed beside the rocking chair.  “Does it have pictures, Nan?” he asked.  I said, “No, but this is a children’s book with wonderful little stories, true stories for little boys called Morning Bells.”

Noah:  “Nan!  Nan!  Will you read me one, please?”
Nan:  “Yes, I’ll read you one before breakfast.  Sit down here and listen.  Let’s see. . .”
Noah:  “Is this book about God, Nan?”
Nan:  “Yes it is!”  A sweet smile came over his face and he rested his head on his hands.
Nan:  “How about A New Heart?  ‘A new heart also will I give you, saith the Lord.  Why does God promise this?  Because our old hearts are so bad that they cannot be made better. . .we need a new heart.  So God in His great kindness says He will give it to us.  Because unless we have a new heart we cannot enter the kingdom of God.  Without this, the door is shut.”
Noah:  “Yeah, Nan.  God lives up in heaven and in my heart and Jesus and the Holy Spirit and He gave me a new heart because He is good and kind and dear, right Nan?”
Nan:  “That’s right.  I continued with the text:  ‘What is the difference?  The old heart likes to be naughty, but the new heart wants to be good. . .”
Noah:  “Yeah, Nan.  (He sits up straight and becomes very animated but serious.)  The difference is we say bad things with our mouths, like yelling at people and kicking and hitting and then you are following the devil but Jesus wants us to be nice to people and behave and mind and not talk back because He lives in our hearts now–well, He lives in mine–but not all kids know about Jesus and not all kids love Jesus like we do, right Nan?  I love Jesus.”
Nan:  “I know you do, Noah.  So does Nana!  Continuing with the text:  ‘The old heart follows the devil and the new heart wants to follow Jesus and do what He wants us to do and how happy and blessed we are to have a new heart for all God’s children receive it for He has said, ‘I will give them a new heart’;  Do you want a new heart, Noah?”
Noah:  “Nan, I’m a blessed little boy because I do have a new heart.  I already talked to God about this myself (looking very grown-up and serious now) and He did give me a new heart because I asked Him to fill me up and He did, Nan, He did!  And He wants me to be a good boy and a sweet boy and follow Jesus, right Nan?  We’re not suppposed to sin.  Being naughty is called sin.  I think that is right, Nan and I want to be good!” 
Nan:  “Noah, do you remember when you did that?”
Noah:  “Yes, Nan, when I was 2 I did that.  Really I did.  He’s in my heart now!  And I’m a good boy!  He sends the Holy Spirit, Nan.  God gave me peace in my heart.  I love Jesus, Nan!”

During our conversation this morning, this little boy raised his right hand up to the Lord two or three times when he said the name of Jesus or God or the Holy Spirit.  I have not taught him to do this.  I believe it is the Spirit of God working in this child’s heart.  It was a short but important devotion from the children’s works by Frances Ridley Havergal, MORNING BELLS, short devotions for children.

Next, Noah heard his Papa beginning his day in the next room and he bounded out of the room to see what Papa was doing.  But twice during the day today, he found the little book again and brought it to me.  The first time, he perched on the back of the sofa near the big window and handed me the book.  “Again, Nan, again,”  he said which meant he wanted to hear the words another time that we had read together in the morning.  I carefully went over them again and he interjected things a second time he wanted to say. 

Nan:  “Do you know what salvation is, Noah?”
Noah:  “Uh, huh. . .it’s when God gives you love and peace.  Jesus died and rose again. . .”
Nan:  “That’s right.  He shed His blood on the cross and took away our sins.”
Noah:  “I know that Nana. . .I love Jesus!”
Nan:  “And you are one of his little children.”  How glad I am to be a part of this conversation.

At one point, he folded his little hands and showed me again how he prayed to God all by himself.  He said the truth because I did not lead him in a prayer that day when the Lord drew Noah’s heart to Himself. 

He watched the hummingbirds playing at the feeder outside the window and then found the little book again and crawled up on my lap and asked me to find the story about the heart again.  I knew what page it was on now and turned right to it.  We talked about it again for the third time and when he was satisfied he knew it, he closed the book and laid it on the table beside the sofa.

After lunch, we played outside today.  Noah rode his battery-powered SUV.  We picked up acorns and made faces on them with marker pens.  We found red and brown and pretty-colored leaves.  He picked two yellow flowers for his Mom.  We looked for baby toads but didn’t find any–I think it was too early for them to come out.  We saw butterflies, birds and bees.  He decided not to kill any ants today by stepping on them.  He can hit a ball pretty well now and he swept all the leaves out of his cabin today.  If there is a treasure on the ground, he will find it.  Pine cones, unusual rocks, feathers.  Today he found a walnut still in its hull and a hickory nut discarded by a hungry squirrel.  He doesn’t miss an unusual cloud or an airplane up in the sky.  He knows a jet stream when he sees one.  He loves animals of any kind.  He is a happy little boy.

I thank God for this very special little grandson and for every time that I can be with him.

“You shall love the LORD your God wth all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength.  And these words which I command you today shall be in your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, when you walk by the way, when you lie down, and when you rise up.”  Deuteronomy 6:5,6,& 7

 

Interested in Good Books?

This past weekend, I travelled to Kansas City, MO to one of my favorite places, the Sovereign Grace Baptist Church.  (Check out their blog at www.sovereigngraceonline.org.)  The Church is located at 6820 E. Truman Road and is easy to find, right off Interstate 435.  Here you will find two gracious and godly pastors, Robert Ganote and Curtis Walker who preach and live for the glory of Christ daily.  You will also find the Presence of the Holy Spirit manifested in this humble little place.

The event was a presentation by Caleb Pearce, past manager of Gospel Standard Trust Publications of England.  Mr. Pearce and his wife, Phyllis and Pastor Michael and Ann Pickett of the Gospel Mission Bookstore in Choteau, MT arrived on Friday evening for the presentation.  Mr. Pearce gave a fine program which focused on the Trust’s publications.  A power-point presentation was given which featured some past Christian worthies that make up part of the rich spiritual heritage of the Gospel Standard Baptists. 

The program mentioned men like Luther, Calvin, Bradford, Bunyan, Gill, Whitfield, Gadsby and others–men of whom the world was not worthy–men who would rather wear out then rust out!  A brief sketch of some of the Puritan and Reformers’ lives was given and titles of some of their works from the old paths.

Following the presentation, book tables were made available and many works were displayed.  I found copies of the Olney Hymns, a beautiful  reproduction of William Cowper and John Newton’s hymns, words only.  They are so fine.  Rich in theology and content to worship our God.  There was a little booklet on Cremation not Christian that was of interest to me.  I’ve never read the book entitled Christmas Evans, the Evangelist from Wales.  I am familiar with The Story of Mary Jones and Her Bible, of course, as I’ve given a program on her life for women and children for the Spring Brunch where I attend Church.

Although I have always loved books since childhood, I am more discriminating now as a Christian as to what I want to read and I try to choose the best of Christian literature.  Puritan writings are my favorite, next to the Bible and I was intrigued by one title, More than Notion by J. H. Alexander with a forward by Dr. D.M. Lloyd-Jones.  It is said to contain stories of various people who came in varied ways to a saving knowledge of the Lord Jesus Christ and is reported to be both convicting and encouraging.  “Some were poor and ignorant, others well placed socially and some learned and cultured; but all came to the same glorious experience.  This book shows the difference between head-knowledge of the Christian faith and a true heart experience.” Being interested in the souls of men, I bought it for myself!  I also purchased In Search of Souls which is a story about Jonathan Edwards and David Brainerd for my friend and former Sunday School teacher, Miss Lillian.

My big splurge was a $28 book, William Gadsby, by B. A. Ramsbottom.  Gadsby was a hymnwriter and an outstanding preacher of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  He was greatly used of God and championed the cause of the poor and oppressed.  This book is the first full-length biography on Gadsby ever published and is the result of 30 years of painstaking and thorough research.  I think it will be good winter reading for me as the days grow shorter.  I will want to give it my full attention and let it sink deeply into my heart and mind.

I am a debtor to men like Pastor Michael Pickett and Caleb Pearce and John Carpenter who work tirelessly and selflessly to provide the truths of Jesus Christ in printed works as our forefathers lived them.  They would all say:
Sola Deo Gloria:  Salvation is to the glory of God alone.

Anyone wishing to obtain a copy of the 2009 GOSPEL STANDARD TRUST PURLICATIONS catalog may contact:  Gospel Mission, Box M, 318 1st St., Choteau, MT  59422. U.S.A.  Telephone:  (406) 466-2311  Email:  gospelm@3rivers.net  Web:  www.gospelmissionbooks.com.

In the U.K., GOSPEL STANDARD TRUST PUBLICATIONS, 12 (b) Roundwood Lane, Harpenden, Hertfordshire, AL5 3BZ, England  Telephone:  (01582) 765448  Facsimile:  (01582) 469148  Email:  gstrust@btconnect.com  Web:  www.gospelstandard.org.

Adventures with Noah

Almost every Friday night, my youngest grandson, Noah Fredrick comes to be a sleepover bear at Nan and Papa’s house.  I’m not sure who looks forward to this the most–Noah or Nan (that’s me).   And Noah surely does adore his beloved Papa who regularly takes him for tractor rides around the three acres up here on the hill where we live. . .

I have to rest most of the day on Fridays as I know it will take all my energy and strength to keep him overnight.   I get to pick him up from his daycare/preschool on Fridays about 4 p.m. and he is so glad to see me.  Noah is a very loving little boy, just had his fourth birthday and cares about all the children at his “school”.  He will move up to the four-year-old class in about two weeks.

We usually go out for supper on Friday evenings, a pizza place or a buffet or somewhere that Noah likes.  Then we have the entire evening to  be together.  If it is nice outdoors, we go outside to play until the sun goes down.  Noah can hit the ball with a bat (he played Bam-Bam Ball this summer!) and he has a number of riding toys stored in Papa’s garage.  There is a tricycle, a scooter, a dirt bike with training wheels, an old John Deere tractor and trailer that’s an antique now, a 40-year old go-cart our sons had when they were little (the kind you peddle) and an SUV with a double seat that is battery-powered.  It depends on what he wants to do which one he rides.  I sit in the lawn chair  and watch him.  My daughter is a single parent who is doing a good job of raising him and we try to fill in the gaps and keep him safe in every way.  I am mindful of the verse “God sets the solitary in families. . .those who are alone.”

We added a tire-swing recently shaped like a horse and it hangs from the limb of the big oak tree near the driveway.  He is all boy and loves to swing way up high on it.

On the front patio, we have a little log cabin which we found at a greatly reduced price at Costco.  He spotted it one day and asked if he could have it so he could have a fishing cabin like Papa’s.  It sits on one end of the cement in front of the house, stocked with pots and pans and a “stove” and chair and small table.  He likes his cabin.  He keeps a child’s broom to sweep out the leaves inside there and regularly “washes” everything with the garden hose, including me and my lawn chair and himself.  Papa doesn’t like it when we leave the water on too long, so we usually do that when Papa is busy doing something else.  Smile.  (The picture is of Noah and his Greatgrandmother–my mother–in front of the cabin.  Mom is little in size but a giant in heart!)

Last night, we were outside and it was just getting dusk.  The lightening bugs weren’t out yet, but I knew it wouldn’t be long.  We catch them and let them go again.  I am teaching him to “hurt no living thing.”  I want him to value the things God made for us to enjoy and not just kill bugs and critters indiscrimiinately.  He was milling around the cabin door when he saw it.  A baby toad!  All by itself!  He screeched loudly, “Nan, look!  Look! Catch it, hurry up and catch it!  Please!”  I said, “No, Noah.  YOU catch it.  You can do it.  Don’t squeeze it, just reach down and catch it!”  He said, “Nan, you have to catch it first!”  It was, of course, just what I wanted to do. . .so I caught it.

I could feel its tiny little cold feet pressing against the palm of my hand–it was very tiny, only about an inch long.  Ooooooh!  I told him to go and get his bug box, the screened one.  He had left it on the porch.  He fetched the little yellow screen house and said, “Give it to me, Nan.  Here.  Put it in my hand.”  When he realized it wasn’t going to bite me or anything, he was ready to touch it.  I carefully transferred it into his little hands, telling him to “hurt no living thing.”  He nodded and repeated what I’d said.  He carefully put the little thing into the screen house.  Then he took it for a ride in his SUV car.  He even strapped it into the seat with the little seat belt so it wouldn’t slide off during the ride.

He drove over to our closest neighbor “Grandpa” Steve’s house hoping to show him the prize, but he wasn’t home.  By now I’m completely out of breath trying to keep up with him and walking as fast as I can following his trail.  (He has a certain path over to Grandpa Steve’s house.)   We came back home and it was getting dark.  I encouraged him to let the little toad go right where he had found him as his “mother” was probably looking for him.  He agreed and carefully opened the little door on the bug house and watched the little guy hop out, glad to be free again.

We went into the house and washed up before getting ready for bed.  We had a snack and he wanted to watch a gospel DVD before bedtime.  I agreed and we barely got through it without him falling asleep.  He is a very busy little boy.  He has his own bed in my room, a youth bed close to the floor and he always “talks” before he goes to sleep.  He tells me everything that is on his mind and I remind him to say his prayers. 

Last week, he wanted to sleep in my bed, a large high bed with a feather douvet on it and we had just settled down when he said, “Nan!  Get up!  I forgot something!  Get up!”  I said, “NO, Noah.  Lay down.  Lay down.  It’s bedtime!”  But he was already almost to the foot of the bed and motioning for me to come, too.  “Here, I’ll show you what to do.  Bow down,” he said.  He knelt on one knee and folded his little hands really tight.  “Dear Jesus,” he said, “please help me not to pee and poop in my pants.  Amen!” 

Then he scampered back up onto the big bed and went to sleep.  Every day is a new adventure with Noah Fredrick, a very special little grandson.