“Don't gain the world and lose your soul; wisdom is better than silver or gold.” ~Bob Marley

Recently while vacationing with my family in Colorado, I wore thick gloves, and kept my hands in my pockets a lot.  Such is necessary when the temperature is two degrees below zero!  On one particularly snowy, blustery, cold day, I pulled off my gloves in the car, and noticed something was missing.  While everyone else in my family proudly wears an Aggie ring on their right hand, my ring finger usually bears something equally special to me – my mother’s ring. 

About twelve years ago, my family decided to get a mother’s ring for me for Mother’s Day, and they included me in that endeavor.  I remember how all five of us went to the jewelry store, and how Jeff and the kids helped me pick out the perfect ring.  We decided to make it a family ring instead of just a mother’s ring by including all five of our birthstones.  They also helped me place the stones – three sapphires for Jeff and the girls’ September birthdays, an aquamarine for my March birthday, and a single amethyst for Caleb’s February date.  I love that ring.  Not for the gold or the precious stones, but for what it represents – five people, knit together through blood and a lot of love.  Those three sapphires and the amethyst represent the people I love most in this world.  Wearing it helps me remember how greatly blessed I am to be the wife and mother – the aquamarine stone – in this family. 

But that day in Colorado, as I pulled my hand out of my pocket, I noticed that the sapphire on one end of the ring – Jeff’s stone – was gone.  One of the prongs had broken off.  The stone itself was very small, and I figured it was gone forever, but I decided it would be worth the effort to explore my pocket thoroughly anyway – and to my great surprise and joy, there in the bottom corner of my pocket, I felt the small bump of that precious stone.

When we returned home, I took my ring and the misplaced stone to our local jeweler to have it repaired.  And in the course of my conversation with the jeweler, she strongly recommended that I also allow them to replace the prongs of my engagement ring which hold a solitary diamond.  I have worn that ring every single day for the last 28 years, and the prongs were becoming quite fatigued.  To me, it was worth the extra money to have that ring repaired as well.  Again, not so much because of the precious stone, but for what that stone represents – Jeff’s proposal, my acceptance, and the 28 ensuing years of life with that very special man.

As passionate as I am about those rings which symbolize priceless relationships, I am even more passionate about the people they represent.  And in considering those thoughts, I couldn't help but be reminded of Luke 15 - the "lost" chapter.  In those parables - from the lost sheep, to the lost coin, to the lost son - Jesus impresses upon His audience how precious those lost ones are to the Shepherd, the woman, and the Father.  They will stop at nothing to find that which is lost - - hence, our Father will stop at nothing to have us in a right relationship with Him.  What a beautiful thought.  And shouldn't I feel the same way about the people I encounter every single day who are lost in sin?  We talked about that in our Ladies' Bible class a few weeks ago, and I need to do better.

For the week that my rings were being repaired by the jeweler, my fingers felt naked, as I missed the familiarity of seeing those representations of love and commitment on my hands.  But I am thankful for the reminder that it isn't about the emblems, but about the actual people.  And I am thankful for the realization that I need to be more concerned about finding lost souls, than I was about finding a lost sapphire.  Luke 19:10 tells us that "the Son of Man came to seek and save that which was lost."  As a child of the King, may I be more zealous to help Him in that endeavor.

"Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does." ~William James

On Wednesday evenings, our Bible study at Rice Road always concludes with everyone meeting in the auditorium for a few songs, and a brief message.  A few weeks ago was no different.  But during the singing that particular night, I teared up a little bit.  It wasn't the songs that moved me, although they were good songs that praised our God.  It was the young man who stood before us - leading us in that singing for his first time.

This young man is very dear to our family - I tell him he is our "other son".  He came into our lives several years ago, when his girlfriend at the time - a young lady who had become quite close to my girls - had moved to Florida to go to college.  At that time, we were temporarily meeting for worship in the Holiday Inn on Sundays while our church building was being remodeled, and this young man would show up there to worship with us, and he would sit with our family.  He was always very engaged with the worship, and his attention to the sermon as he listened intently and looked up passages was obvious.  It was evident that he had a good heart - one that was searching for truth.

We continued to get to know him, and offered to study the Bible with him.  He said he had studied with his girlfriend's father, and he knew what we would have to offer - he said he just needed to study on his own and figure things out for himself.  He did that, and one Wednesday evening after a service on a hot July evening, he rendered obedience to the gospel, being baptized into Christ for the remission of his sins.  Most everyone had gone home already that evening, but we were there, and blessed to be able to witness that new birth.

This young man - who is now married to the girl I referenced earlier - has continued to grow in Christ.  That scrawny, uncertain young fella who made his way into our assembly five or so years ago has been changed by the gospel, as he strives to grow into the image of Christ.  He taught his first adult Bible class several months ago, and has brought several Wednesday night devotional talks - including one just last week.  And the week before, he led singing for the first time.  And I was moved, and encouraged, as I considered his growth in the Lord.

Encouragement.  The act of giving someone support, confidence, or hope.  We all need that.  And I received that by the simple act of observing and considering a young man growing in his service to Christ.  I also receive that weekly as I observe the many other young folks we are blessed to have as a part of our church family - young couples, and singles, who are devoted in their service to God.  Young ladies, who come to my home on Thursday nights to study the Bible together - their zeal and passion, along with their hunger to grow, encourages me.  Young mothers who are diligently teaching their children.  And young men, who are stretching themselves to grow in their leadership.  Then there are the children - particularly those I am currently teaching in Bible class, who have a keen interest in learning about God.  There are also those who battle with temptations, and are willing to publicly share those struggles as they seek God's forgiveness.  Not to mention the older folks - those who live with disease and pain, who fight through that to encourage others, as well as those who are willing to share their wisdom to help the younger ones grow.  Each one has his or her own story.  And those life stories encourage me.

We often think of our service to God as something we do to honor God and to help ourselves.  We serve, and that helps us grow in our future service.  It also helps us grow closer to God, and makes us stronger in our faith.  And while all of that is true, our growth and service help others as well.  The Scriptures bear that out, as we are told in passages like Hebrews 10:23-25, "...And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near."

I am thankful that God in His wisdom provided us with a spiritual family to help us maneuver through this sin-sick world.  And I am blessed to be a part of one of the best.  It is Wednesday, and I am looking forward to gathering with that family this evening.  I know I will be encouraged.

"There is an endearing tenderness in the love of a mother to a son that transcends all other affections of the heart." ~Washington Irving

"They will teach you more than you will ever even hope to teach them."  Those are words my father shared with me in reference to children the first time I told him I was pregnant.  I have thought about that often over the past 24 years.  He was so right.

Each one of our children has brought a unique personality to our family, and all three of them have taught me so much in their own individual ways.  They continue to do so.  But today, I am thinking mostly about our son.  Our only boy.  Our "baby."  He turns 22 today, and he continues to teach his mama.

As our kids were growing up, I kept journals where I wrote letters to them.  And this week I took time to read back through Caleb's journal.  On May 10, 1994, when Caleb was about 15 months old, I noted, "You have started folding your hands and bowing your head when we pray – that is so sweet, and I know it must make God smile!"  At that early age, Caleb made Jesus' words in Matthew 19:14 come alive to me - "Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.”  Caleb's simplicity of faith, innocence, and humility - like all children - set an example of what I should be, both then and now.

On August 7, 1995, when Caleb was two, I wrote, "You are no trouble at all, except when you aggravate Rebecca.  You really know how to push her  buttons, and I get weary of the battles between you two!"  This continued to be a recurring theme throughout the next several years.  It was always those two fighting, with Sarah being the little peacemaker.  I remember worrying about how they would interact when they were grown - would they hate each other?  If you know them, you know nothing could be further from the truth.  Our kids - yes, even Becca and Caleb - love each other deeply, and enjoy spending time together.  Those early battles, and the ability they had to work through them, taught me powerful lessons in love and forgiveness.  People and relationships are important, and we need to be forgiving as we grow past harboring childish grudges.

Caleb has always had a vivid imagination.  I wrote last year about his imaginary grandfather, uncles, and brothers, and his imaginary grandma who was eaten by a camel.  But there was also this, which I recorded on September 8, 1997 - "I found out that you cried at preschool today.  I asked you why, and you gave me a long, elaborate story about how a little boy hit you, knocked you down and had to go to the principal’s office.  I told you that you don’t have a principal’s office, and you laughed and said you were just kidding.  You said the real reason you cried was because you lined up to get on the school bus and . . . I interrupted – you don’t have a school bus, I said.  When I asked again what REALLY happened, you said you couldn't remember."  While this may seem humorous, it also shows a heart that was willing and able to look on the bright side, and let go of the bad stuff - a good lesson for all of us.

Then, there are these excerpts:  April 13, 1998 - "Today you told your preschool teacher, 'You look beautiful - where did you get that dress?'";  March 17, 1999 - "You endear yourself to young and old alike." and May 15, 2000, in reference to his first grade teacher - "Mrs. Kennedy’s husband died a few weeks ago.  You were very upset by that and would cry as you prayed for her."  Caleb's attention to people, his passion to brighten the lives of others, and his ability to truly feel others' pain have given me a heightened sense to pay more attention to those qualities in my own life.

Likewise, Caleb has taught me how to have a right heart.  On several occasions throughout his young life, we had the unpleasant task of confronting him with wrong choices he made.  Every single time we did that with Caleb, we were met with a tender heart - one who didn't make excuses or try to justify, readily admitted his error, and sought to make the necessary changes to overcome those things.  During his teenage years, I wrote, "You always take 'no' very graciously and respectfully, you never argue."  This is the kind of heart we all must have to be pleasing to God.

And then there is Caleb's passion for life.  As early as October 4, 1994, when Caleb was a mere 20 months old, I wrote, "You enjoy life so much!"  That was a continuing theme throughout all of my letters to him, with entries such as:  "Last week you took your first airplane ride, and loved it – you live life to the fullest and fully enjoy everything you do!" ; "You have such a unique passion and enthusiasm for life," ; "You got a puppy for your birthday – she makes you laugh – you are so good at enjoying every moment of life, living it to the fullest, and appreciating all of the little things."  Other entries noted things like, "You enjoy leading the band in the roller coaster";  "At Saturday's UIL event, you somehow got the master key to the school and took some classmates on the roof..."  I can't tell you how many times Caleb has said, "This was the BEST DAY EVER!"  And he always means it.  Caleb has taught me to live more in the moment, and to find real, deep, belly-laughter kind joy in everything.

 It has been a year of growth for our boy.  From spending his summer in Costa Rica, to enduring emergency surgery last fall, he has handled each challenge in a true "Caleb" way - finding the best in every situation, loving the people in his life, serving His God to the best of his ability, always ready to make necessary correction when he gets off course, and thoroughly enjoying every moment.  (When he had his surgery, his recovery nurse who called me to tell me they were taking him to his room couldn't stop laughing.  She said, "He sure is entertaining!"  That's our boy.)

So, Happy Birthday, Bud, and thanks for all you continue to teach me.  How overwhelmingly blessed I am to be called "Mom" by you - I will never fully be able to express exactly what that means to me.  I am a better person because of you.  And I definitely take things a little less seriously, and laugh a whole lot more.  The very first letter I wrote to you on February 8, 1993 included these words: "My prayer and greatest desire for you is that you will grow up to be a godly, sensitive, caring and honest man like your father."  You have, and you are.  I thank God for you!