The Back Porch!

         When I was 14, my parents built our “dream house.”  It certainly doesn’t compare to the “castles” of todays architecture but it was much larger than our previous little home. As the only girl, I was given a large bedroom, walk in closet and a half bath.  I decorated this oasis from three brothers in pale green paint and light yellow carpet.  I wanted the room to look happy. And it was! 

         The house had other wonderful features, it was in an up and coming subdivision with large lots and rolling hills (to be expected, its was in Virginia!)  My parents did an amazing job of keeping it updated over the almost thirty years they lived there.

         Another feature of the house was the back deck.  The house had no back door neighbors because of the slant of the adjoining property.  With almost a full acre of property in the back of the lot only thick trees could be seen.  The back deck watched this little forest throughout the years.  Watching the full throttled green leaves change to a bouquet of red, orange and yellow as Fall met Summer.  The winter would decorate the trees with a depressing gray and occasionally ice would turn the bare branches into a winter fairyland.  Spring always came unexpectedly to the trees because it was usually still chilly and without warning beautiful buds and blossoms dressed them up to say they had survived.

         The back deck brought our family and friends to barbecues and sunbathing.  Late night star gazing and cramming for exams are all memories of the deck.  Years later my parent’s update of the house turned the back porch into an amazing glassed sunroom.

         This sunroom became the hub of our family.  It was large enough to have a table, a complete living room suit and what family could do without the beloved television?  Over the years we’ve had family celebrations and holiday meals there.  We’ve laughed in the sunroom until we cried.  We’ve cried in that room until we didn’t think we could survive. Many memories formed and made in the evolution of this deck turned sunroom.

         My mother for the most part called this space, this deck, this beautiful sunroom, “The back porch!”  The “Back Porch!”  In all due respect to the wonderful memories it has held, how dare she call this space a “back porch.”  “Come on Mom, this room is special, the memories are many, and you call it a back porch?”

         This week as our youngest and I sat, unhurried and enjoying each other in a small covered area of our house, just off the kitchen in the back of our house.  I realized…the Lord had recreated the deck, the sunroom of my formative years.  It is now my “back porch.” 

         After living in this home only a couple of years and tearing it down to the studs, Gods design was to create the space. Our children, Greg and I now have a “space” just outside to have meals, to laugh until we cry, to cry over what breaks our heart and to join our hearts as life happens.

         I’m grateful God has found a haven for our family.  Out of the world’s eye, a special place for our family to process our lives. He has entrusted to us a space to make memories.

         Find that special place for your family.  It can be a room, but it could also be a park bench or a library table or a restaurant play land.  It can be a cozy chair in Starbucks or a get away cabin.  Find your back porch!  Your children will be looking in their adult lives to offer their children (your grandchildren) the same oasis experience!

Brush Stroked Memorials

Oh summer days…we have been waiting for….sleeping in, staying up late, lazy days at the beach.  Often summer expectations include; drinking lemonade; playing in the sprinklers; catching fire flies and eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

One of my favorite childhood memories is “painting” my Grandfather’s picket fence.  

Google Images

When my cousin, brother and I would spend lengthy summer days at my grandparent’s home in our humid Virginia town, my precious grandfather would fill empty paint cans with water.  He gave us paintbrushes and sent us out to their fence to “paint.”  What an ingenious idea! No mess and he ended up with a clean fence.

Over and over God’s people remember God’s provision and God’s protection and God’s power.  In doing so, they remind themselves and their families of the One they can always trust.

I doubt my grandfather was considering he would be leaving a memory of “painting the fence.”  However, Christ spent His entire earthly ministry preforming miracles and telling stories that are never to be forgotten.

We never know what may become a special memory for our children. We should encourage them to remember what God has done for them.

Challenge:  Begin to store special memories of Christ’s faithfulness in a “treasure box” with your children.  It can be as basic as a shoe box to as elaborate as a shadow box.  You can place a piece of the “memory” in the box and tell their story over and over.  This can become your child’s memory/memorial box.  Over the days, weeks and years, your child will be able to pull from their memorial box a piece of the memory and repeat over and over the amazing experiences and memories they have of their faithful Heavenly Father.

A Tent of Thankfulness

Psalm 63: 6 " I will remember you while I'm lying in bed; I think about you through the night."

About a year ago, Greg (being the most wonderful Daddy in the world) set up our youngest daughter’s tent in the backyard.  Now he did this with every intent to have a Daddy daughter sleepover.  However, between work and wet weather, the poor tent just sat empty night after night.

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Due to his work schedule, I realized the opportunity was quickly being reduced.  Although, Hope is very understanding, and really had enough awareness to know it looked like a “camping trip” wasn’t going to happen this particular set up, I felt the need to be the “available and fun” mom and offer to sleep in the tent with her.

Hope was ecstatic with my offer.  She began to “pack” for our trip.  Everything from sleeping bags, flashlights, food and water bottles, to books and games to play.  Somehow, the more she packed the more I asked myself, what was I thinking?

I mean, I really didn’t want to do this thing.  Besides, I am not a "night person" and fall asleep anytime I sit down after 8:30pm. I was also a little scared.  I mean we have a tall privacy fence, but one of the gates was very near where the tent was set up.

All that said, we finally made our way to the tent for the night.  We have one blow up mattress that Hope insisted I use.  She was content with a couple of quilts and her sleeping bag on top.  I thought we would be up all night playing games, eating, and talking.

I spent the first half an hour trying to rig up a way to hang a flashlight from the center of the tent.  After I finally attached a small rope to go through one of the rods holding up the tent, the flashlight was in place.  What I hadn’t considered was due to the fact it was hanging, it never stop swinging.    The light in our tent became a disco ball.

image found here

My idea of having a good time will usually involve words and sweets.  So I broke out our snacks and began reading a great children’s classic out loud.  I hardly had begun to “have a good time” when I realized my partner was fast asleep!

While my air mattress became flatter and flatter, and the neighbor’s house alarm went off (they must have been out of town, because it went on for over an hour) and the longest train of the night rumbled through, I laid there thinking, “Now why am I doing this?”

So I laid in the tent, unable to sleep, listening to my child sleeping through all the noise.  I began to pray, actually praise the Lord for this moment.  The quiet of her, surrounded by the noise of my world.  In those moments, I was flooded with a heart of praise of precious memories of being Hope’s mom.

Praise rolled from my heart.  We had prayed for another child.  God had blessed us with her.  I had prayed specifically for a girl, and God had chosen Hope.  I thanked the Lord for helping me to watch her mature, and allowing me to see her understand Christ.

It was a pleasure laying wide awake in the tent, rubbing her arm and telling God how blessed I felt to be her mom. As I lay on the flattened mattress, with a flashlight dressed as a disco light, even with the possibility that I was filling Hope’s memory box of an outing with her mom was overshadowed by an opportunity to thank the Lord for the gift of mothering.

Moms, lets not miss a single opportunity to tell the Lord thanks for our calling!  We can get so wrapped up in our own lives, ministries, even attempting to do motherhood so right, we don’t stop to say thank you to our Heavenly Father.  Thank Him for the honor of being moms.  Of loving the moment we are in.  Let’s stop and praise Him for calling us to be moms. 




Proverbs 23: 25 "...may she who gave you birth rejoice!"