Daddeeeeee!

Well, all right, that was a little more than a week. But after it was over I had to get ready to leave town, and then we went out of town, and then we came back and I had to deal with all the mess which results from having been out of town, and so here it is ten days later. Such is life.

My son has made a recording on his cell phone of my home-coming from work one day lately. First you hear his voice:

"Mommeeeeee!" and then you hear mine:

"Kevinnnnnn!" And all sorts of good cheer breaks loose, because Mommy and Kevin are both home.

I've heard this recording a lot, because it makes my son very happy, so he plays it for me a great deal. So it has become this curious combination of tedious and heartwarming, but I do understand why he plays it again and again. This is love and joy and security to him, and I am so pleased I can give him that. There are so many things that I can't give him; I'm grateful for this one.

This last Thursday, our Bible study group had a discussion about the fact that we bring God pleasure. Personally, thinking about myself, I tend to find this unlikely! What on earth about me could bring God pleasure? The Bible says that I do, and that I am his workmanship, but it really doesn't seem reasonable to me most days. I know myself too well, and all my little dark parts.

But then I got to thinking about my kids. You know, don't tell them, but they are just chock full of faults. They are imperfect in multitudinous ways, just as I am. In a sense, they got that from me! There are times when they drive me just straight up the wall. But I have to admit, even on their very worst days I still love them to pieces. Why? I guess because they are mine, and my husband's, and I am committed to them, come what may. But mostly because they are mine.

Tomorrow, I will study John 20 with a couple of friends. Reading this passage to get ready for the study, I came across the part that always always brings me to tears. It's when Mary of Magdala, her eyes full of tears and her heart full of deepest sorrow, is looking for the body of Jesus. She pours out her sadness to He whom she supposes to be the gardener, and then a very sweet thing happens. He says her name. And she instantly knows it is her Lord. Oh goodness, I can't even imagine the joy she felt, in extreme contrast to the sorrow of the moment before. Jesus must have put a wealth of love and all the joy of heaven in that word "Mary", and sometimes, when I read it, I can hear a little chuckle too, because He knew how it would affect her, and how radically her life would change. In fact, how radically everything had changed, for everybody, Jesus' death and resurrection altered history on so many levels that I can't even comprehend it; it certainly altered my history!

That one word moves me, every time I read it. It's just a name, and a common one at that, but I think I may finally have a handle on why I get so emotional about it. It's related to that phone recording--it sounds like love to me. Jesus must have called me by name, because at one point I heard Him and recognized His voice, and I follow Him. When I read about Him saying "Mary" in that chapter, I can hear Him say my name too, and I rejoice, just like that faithful woman long ago, because my Lord lives and loves me. So I go where He leads me, like a good little sheep.

And that's how I think I bring God pleasure, just by answering His call. I am His!

Love, Spud.