A Saintly Example

Today is my mother's birthday. I am grateful for the inspiration she is and will always be to me. From her, I learned to be a good mother to my children. I learned to be a good wife and helpmate by watching the way she loved her husband.

I learned to forgive quickly because of her example. I learned to look to Christ for my purpose and worth because of her love and devotion to Him. I learned that God always creates beauty out of broken lives by watching how she lives her life so eloquently and intentionally. 

I learned to dance and laugh and sing in all circumstances by watching her. I learned about God's amazing grace by being around her. By her example, I learned that being a follower of Jesus means helping the poor by actually getting close to them and getting to know them. I learned how to be accepting of everyone, how to love unconditionally, and how to give sacrificially because of the way she lives daily.

I learned from her how to live the Gospel of Jesus Christ and not just talk about it. I learned how to show grace and kindness to all people no matter how they treat me. And I'm still learning to be generous and gracious in everything I say and do by watching her.

Happy birthday to the best mother and saintly example a person could have.

I love you, Mama, with all my heart!

Christmas Peace

My heart melts in the presence of Christ. His Spirit comes into the room and I just want to dance and worship and fall at His feet. His presence is so real that my physical body feels as though I can touch Jesus.

I have never seen Him with my eyes, but when He is in the room, there is a peace that comes in like a gentle winter snow falling to the ground.

There’s a song that describes the delicate beauty of the presence of Christ. “Winter Snow” by Audrey Assad and Chris Tomlin touches me deeply when I listen to it. It causes me to stop what I’m doing and draw near to Christ.

The lyrics are words that speak of the softness of Christ’s love…“Could’ve come like a mighty storm with all the strength of a hurricane. You could’ve come like a forest fire with the power of Heaven in Your flame. But You came like a winter snow…quiet and soft and slow. Falling from the sky in the night to the earth below…”

My prayer this Christmas is that many will stop to feel the softness of Christ’s spirit and rest in His perfect love in the midst of a chaotic world. I pray that the Spirit of Christmas will bring the peace that souls are longing for. Ultimately, I pray that Christ’s Spirit will cover this earth like a beautiful blanket of snow and that all will see His perfect and unfailing love.

He tends to his flock like a shepherd. He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart...Isaiah 40:11

Live Abundantly!
Amy

Remembering Papa

I am posting the eulogy I wrote and read at my grandfather's funeral in 1997 in honor of Veteran's Day because he was a military man through and through. It's hard to believe it's been fifteen years. My Papa, Paul Baker, left an amazing legacy for me and for my family. I pray that I will leave this kind of legacy for my children and grandchildren. 

A Tribute to Papa (Written November, 1997)

I would like to honor my grandfather by sharing some of my memories of him. There are really no words sufficient enough in the human language to portray the life of a man that had such an impact on my life. But I will share a few thoughts with you.

Papa was probably best known for his storytelling. If you had a listening ear, he loved to tell a story. Some of the stories were true, but sometimes I think he had a wild imagination. He always made me laugh. One of my favorite tales of his was about an usher at church that got tongue-twisted and muttered these words to the guests, "Mardon me Padam, this pie is occupued, let me sew you to your sheet." Anyone who knew him heard him share this tale among many others.

Papa was always proud of his heritage. He loved to talk about his ancestors. I will always remember how orderly Papa lived his life. The military definitely influenced him. He lived by the clock. He loved routine and was very predictable. One of my favorite memories was when I was a teen. I was visiting at my grandparents’ house. One morning I got up early to go to the bathroom with hopes of getting back in bed for more sleep. But when I returned, Papa had already made my bed.

Of all my memories, the thing that stands out in my mind the most when I think of my grandfather is the godly character he had. He was never the type to preach or talk a lot about spiritual things. But his faith was evident by the way he lived his life. He loved and stayed committed to his wife through the good times and the hard times. He was truly the ideal father and grandfather. He raised two wonderful children and I know Jeff and Ashley would agree that he brought great joy into our childhoods.  

I especially remember how Papa loved to take us to cemeteries to read headstones. He loved history. I remember waking up to the reveille. I can still hear him singing, “ I can't get 'em up, I can't get 'em up, I can't get 'em up in the morning...." I remember all the trips to the store to buy ice cream. It had to be Breyers! I remember the hours he spent teaching me how to parallel park. He was the one who took me for my driver's test after I failed it two times.

These are just a few of my memories of my grandfather. I could write a book about Papa. He invested a lot of time in his family. And I know he was pleasing to the Lord.

In our culture, advertising provides many images of manhood—things like sports, cars, drinking beer, and smoking cigars. But Papa was a real man. He had courage and strength. He was kind, gentle, and loving. He was a man of honor.

I will close with a scripture that seems fitting of Papa's life.

Ephesians 4:1-2..."As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.”

Live Abundantly!

Amy 

Free Indeed

I walked into my father’s house and there she sat. My step-mother, Debbie, was in the final stages of cancer. Her frail, weak body made her barely recognizable. She burst into tears when she saw my face. She must have seen the compassion in my eyes. She was not usually emotional. However, that day was different. There was a keen sense of God’s love in the atmosphere.

I sat down next to her and we began to talk. It was just the two of us sitting there soaking in the Presence that filled the room.  I don’t remember much about the conversation. I only remember a deep, intense love in my heart. I asked Debbie if she would like me to pray with her, and she enthusiastically said, “Yes!” I held tight onto her hands and began to pray words of love and protection over her. The fear I had seen in her eyes began to lift and a fresh glow came onto her face.

After spending time chatting and praying together that day, I hugged her tight and said, “Goodbye.” As the door shut behind me, a flood of emotion came into my spirit. I began sobbing tears of compassion for the pain Debbie was feeling. I realized in that moment that I had experienced the greatest miracle of my life—God had set me free from the prison of unforgiveness. 

It was decades before that Debbie had been (in my young mind) the one who had broken up my family. At thirteen years old, my dad had left me and my family to marry Debbie and raise her daughter. Hurt and bitterness plagued me and held me captive for a very long time.

But that day, I rejoiced in the freedom I had found in Christ. I had made the choice to forgive my step-mom many years before she had been diagnosed with cancer. And on this emotional day, the deep love I was expressing to Debbie was the evidence that I was free indeed.

Christ came to earth and died so that we could live and love freely. That day with my step-mom will be forever etched in my mind because I know that it was only through the power of Jesus Christ that a person could love the one who hurt them the most. It was the last time that Debbie was able to communicate with me before she passed away peacefully several weeks later. A number of years have gone by and the love I have for my step-mom is still as strong as it was then.

In Isaiah 61, it says the Lord has anointed us—His followers—to bind up the brokenhearted and to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners. How can we help set the captives free? We can start by spreading the message of forgiveness.

Freedom, undoubtedly, is being able to love those who have hurt us and being willing to share the goodness of Christ with every person we come into contact with. There is not a greater prison than the one of bitterness. And I am certain there is no greater freedom than walking in true love and forgiveness.

Live Abundantly!
Amy 

This was originally written in February as a guest post for Ask Wise Counsel. http://askwisecounsel.blogspot.com

Amazing Grace

 

Tears were rolling down my cheeks as I was driving away from my mother’s house. My heart was deeply touched when the realization hit me that my mother lives in the ghetto. But the difference between my mother, and others that live in the ghetto, is that she lives there by choice. She had previously lived in an upscale home in a prestigious community until she heard the voice of the Lord nudging her to move to the small town of Hogansville, Georgia to plant a mission church with her husband. About 12 years ago, she followed Christ's leading, sold her home, left upper middle class suburbia, and moved to a tiny house in a mill village that was built around the turn of the 19^th century.

I clearly remember the first time I saw the neighborhood. I had never seen anything quite like it, and neither had some of my other family members. My brother’s humor lightened our shocked state the first time we visited the new place that my mom called "home." He said, “This reminds me of Archie Bunker’s neighborhood.” We had a good laugh, but the truth of the matter is Archie Bunker’s neighborhood (in the 1970’s sitcom) was much nicer. During one of our first visits there, my daughter asked me, "Why are there dishwashers and furniture in some of the yards of this neighborhood?" As inquisitive as we were, I knew in my heart, this was where God had called my mother to live.

Seeing the elegantly dressed, middle class woman in an impoverished area may have seemed odd to some people. But for me, as her daughter, I could see that the place she had chosen to move to, fit perfectly with her Christ-like heart. She had found her mission field right here in America , in a community filled with people in great need of God’s grace and love. This is what defines my mother: her gift for sharing Christ’s mercy with the poor in spirit and brokenhearted.

I could fill a book with many examples of how I have seen Christ’s light shine through my mother, but there is one that has impacted my life the most. Shortly after my 13^th birthday, my father told me that he didn't love my mother anymore and he was leaving. I have the memory etched in my mind of my mother sitting at the table weeping as she read her Bible. She had just heard my father’s words of rejection. Her college sweetheart, whom she was married to for 17 years, was divorcing her, piercing her heart. Shortly after the divorce, my father remarried another woman. My heart was crushed, so I can only imagine the depth of pain my mother was experiencing. Yet in the midst of her grieving, she continued to exemplify the amazing grace of God.

My mother never spoke any unkind words about my father, and she lived out what it means to forgive the way our heavenly Father forgives. Her loving attitude revealed the heart of Christ. She told me that we needed to pray for my father. We began praying that he would surrender his life to Jesus. She continually showed love and kindness to my father and his new wife. My mother’s life was building tremendous faith in my teenage heart as I watched her faithfulness. In the midst of my broken life, I saw a miracle come forth. A little over four years later, my father radically surrendered his heart to Christ. At seventeen years old, it was a blessing to have spiritual eyes to see that the merciful love of Christ displayed through my mother had drawn my father to the Lord.

Over a decade later, while my mother was recovering from cancer, my father shared with me the true impact my mother’s love and forgiveness had made on his life. What I had discerned in my spirit, my father’s words confirmed. He began telling me that the most significant factor leading him to a fulfilled life in Christ was experiencing the unconditional, Christ-like love of my mother. It was beautiful, hearing with my ears what I had known in my heart for many years.

The Lord honored my mother by bringing her a wonderful, Christian man to marry several years after my father remarried. My mother’s life is a beautiful picture of how the Lord is able to take a devastating situation and use it for good (Romans 8:28). But most of all, her life is a true example of Christ’s mercy and kindness. The Lord had a good plan when He placed her in a neighborhood where there is poverty, drug addiction, and homeless people. These people are the ones that need to see grace the most.

I have often shared stories about the grace I've seen in my mother and I've told friends that the perfect name for her would be, "Grace." I even wrote a poem about the grace displayed in her life and titled it, "Her Name Should be Grace." I had never asked my mom the meaning of her name. But on the day I presented her with the special poem, she looked at me with joy, and said, "That’s what my name means: GRACE."

I love you, Mama! Thank you for being the living example of Christ's love. You will have an abundance of crowns in heaven. Happy 71st birthday!

Eternally grateful,

Amy

This was originally written in 2008. Today, I have revised it in honor of my mother's birthday.