Survival

Not that I'm dwelling on it or anything, but this week has had its challenges. We are finally on the downside of that, having begun the dreaded garage sale today. My mood and state of mind are better, but I'm thinking if I ever do this again, I will be a fool for sure.

Nettie has forgiven me for being AWOL during VBS week, and I assured her I would do double duty next year. Think she'll put me in the nursery? Probably! I deserve that!

The company picnic got rained out and I not so secretly sighed a big relief! It gave me back 3 hours, and I sure needed them. With all this garage sale prep going on, I had quite the laundry pileup!

So, blessings were there, as I always remind myself. I just get a little frenetic sometimes. I am not perfect!!

We had fun today, and managed to unload some stuff too. We spent some time with a teenage boy today, and that was interesting. His mom wanted to purchase our dresser, so she had to drive all the way back to Wise Rd, which is quite a haul from here. She left her son here, and we don't really know why, but it turned out to be a good thing. We joked with him about maybe she wasn't coming back, and what did he want for dinner, all that silly stuff. We started asking him questions about school and life, and soon realized he was a foster kid. This is his 19th home, and he has lived in 43 states. He's about 16 years old. Suddenly I felt really stupid about joking with him about all that. He seemed like a nice enough kid, polite, soft-spoken, and friendly. He answered our questions, and I joked with him a bit. The conversation turned to Pastor Dave, as mom explained how he worked with the football team and weight lifted with them, stuff like that. She brought up Pastor Shannon and how great he is with the teens. He asked where our church was, then explained that his mother brought him up as a JW, and he wasn't allowed to have friends outside of church. Seeds were being sown, as he sat there sipping lemonade from the girls' lemonade stand. He felt funny accepting it, as they had been selling it all day. When his foster mom arrived, they loaded the dresser, and I handed him a bunch of the cookies the girls were selling. He didn't want to take them. I said, go ahead. You don't even have to share with the other kids! He said, oh, I will share them for sure. He left, and I may not see him again, but I will remember him, especially in my prayer time. I hope that you will pray for him and the many other boys in the home where he lives, along with the people caring for them. What a calling that must be. I don't know if I could ever do that.

I spent my week annoyed that I had so much to sell and all day to work on it. I whined about a sore back and too many commitments. I was exhausted from moving "things". God has a way of bringing me back to reality. This boy probably doesn't have a lot of "things" to call his own. He probably showed up at his 19th house with the clothes on his back. He doesn't have a mom and dad who remind him of how cute he looked in the cowboy outfit they're putting in the garage sale, or parents who agonize over whether to sell the favorite toys and books or keep them for future grandkids. What kind of family legacy is left to a kid in the foster care system anyway? It is sure sad to me to even imagine what their lives must be like.

This kid was broken from the time his parents let him down the very first time. I'm sure he's been in some kind of trouble, I'm sure he has a lot of issues. I would too if I was in that situation. I actually felt guilty when I comforted one of my girls in front of him. How many times I complain about their arguing, and does he even have siblings? Boy, we have it pretty good here.

God reminds me from time to time that I need to look beyond ME in order to SEE what's going on around me. I've asked him to show me people to bless, and he does it in the most unique ways.
I had a question on my mind to ask this boy, and my mom spoke it for me. She asked him if he was happy in his current home and he said yes. I don't know what happens to these kids at 18 years old, but I can't imagine him being on his own in a couple years. When I think of how my parents have helped me, and still do, I can't imagine life without their constant presence.

I got it, God. I got it good. Thank you for a week of lessons. Thank you for the blonde-headed boy. Amen...