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is this for you?
Jack Nicolson put it brilliantly in the road-trip scene from the 1999 movie As Good As It Gets:
Not everyone has a terrible story to get over. Some people have great stories, pretty stories that take place at lakes with boats and friends and noodle salad. Just no one in this car. But, a lot of people, that's their story. Good times, noodle salad.
If you're riding with me, know that I speak from personal experience. If you can relate, scroll down. More than anything I want you to know, YOU matter to God. IT--whatever it is, matters to God. But no one can make that discovery for you. I count it a blessing to encourage you along the way.
the story behind the category selctions
Merry Christamas, Stubborn Child of God
(an excerpt from my life)
I sat on a church pew, studying all the families through a steady stream of tears. My two oldest sons were visiting their father. I was alone with their toddler-half-brother. His father and I hadn't married. So, when we separated, I became a single single mother.
I drove past a nursery on the way home from the service. Something told me to turn around and buy a tree. I have no business buying a real tree when I have a free one in storage. But I turned around and bought one anyway. The nursery workers tied it to the top of my truck. And away we went. Mom, at 5'2", Pint- sized Toddler, and Tree; seven feet.
Somehow I managed to get the tree in the house by myself. I placed it in one of those stands that requires screws and a few choice swear words. Definitely a two-person job, yet something held that tree upright for me. There was no way I could hold the trunk steady and straight as I tightened the screws. But it never once leaned or toppled over. I had never given much thought to whether or not angels are real. But after that day, I was convinced they exist.
I strung lights and then together, we hung ornaments and watched silly Christmas cartoons until bedtime.
Every night there after, I sipped hot tea and gazed upon our beautiful tree. Hope came packaged in the smell of fresh pine and the soft glow of tiny lights . . . a gift from God. I have very few childhood memories of the holidays. God, whom I did not trust at the time, blessed me with a sweet memory; safe to open year after year.
Merry Christmas, stubborn child of God.
Published on Tuesday, December 6, 2011 @ 10:18 AM CDT
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