"The differences between friends cannot but reinforce their friendship." ~Mao Zedong

Jeff and I have been enjoying the past few days in San Diego, California, and on Tuesday we went to the world-famous San Diego Zoo.  It more than lived up to its reputation - we saw myriads of animals up close, and enjoyed the day immensely.

As we perused the different areas of the zoo, one exhibit in particular really caught my attention.  It was the Cheetah exhibit.  We all know that Cheetahs are cats - large, spotted ones that live in Africa and parts of Asia.  They are the fastest animal on earth, and can run 68 - 75 miles per hour in short bursts.  They are BIG cats - adults can weigh anywhere between 83 and 145 pounds.

But at the San Diego Zoo, there's something very unusual and unique about the Cheetah exhibit.  As we approached their area, I did a double-take -- this is what we saw...

Yes, that's a dog.  A lab mix, to be exact.  Living with a Cheetah.  The San Diego Zoo regularly pairs these two unlikely companions.  Cheetahs are by nature fearful animals.  They would rather run than engage in a fight.  Any new or unusual experience results in an instant impulse to flee.  Dogs - especially labs - are just the opposite.  They are friendly, enthusiastic, and good-natured.  They love people.  And apparently, they also love Cheetahs!

The San Diego Zoo pairs a shelter dog with a baby Cheetah at about three months of age.  They begin slowly at first, allowing them to smell and investigate each other through cage walls.  Eventually, they allow them to share the same space, monitored closely by keepers.  After they become comfortable, a life-long friendship is formed.  The zoo is even able to take the Cheetahs out as "zoo ambassadors" with the accompaniment of their dog friend.  The dog is the "caretaker," always concerned and seeing to the needs of their cat companion.  And the Cheetah takes their cues from their dog leader - in any new situation, if the dog is comfortable, so is the Cheetah.

Fascinating.  

And this made me think of people, and how we interact with one another.  Proverbs 27:17 tells us that "as iron sharpens iron, so a man sharpens the countenance of his friend."  But for iron to truly sharpen iron, it needs resistance.  In other words, two blades can't really sharpen one another, any more than two Cheetahs can give one another confidence.  I need different people, personalities, and characteristics influencing my life to make myself better. 

I thought about my family and friends - the people I feel closest to in my life.  And without exception, they each possess qualities that I do not, but wish I did.  There's my ever-patient husband, who has helped this once extremely impatient person grow in that area by his awesome example (and patience) over the past 28 years.  I have others in my life who are out-going and fun-loving, who have taught my more serious-minded self to relax a little and have fun.  Then there are the service-oriented people - the givers - who have inspired me to be better at that as well.  And one friend in particular who lives several states away, I love because I can ALWAYS count on her to tell me EXACTLY what she thinks about what I am doing, without reservation.  Her opinion sometimes differs from mine, but I appreciate her candor and her willingness to share that with me.  She makes me better.  I could go on and on - in fact, I spent the entire month of November 2012 doing just that, as I posted a blog entry a day about the diverse group of people in my life who have shaped me - and continue to shape me - into who I am.

We all have others who are close to us who have characteristics that we likely view as negative.  These folks are good for us as well - they help us to work harder to avoid those attributes in our own lives.

Cheetahs and dogs.  I never would've paired them.  But the dog gives the cheetah confidence and comfort, while the cheetah provides the dog with companionship.  The trade-off for each is beautiful to behold.  And it makes me thankful for the diverse group of people who form my circle of family and friends.  

"Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised." ~Proverbs 31:30

I don't remember when I met her.  I know it was during my childhood that Sarah Taylor moved with her family to my hometown, and they began worshipping with us.  Her children - Karen, Kathy, and Hal - were a little older than me, but they became my friends.  And the remainder of my childhood, through adolescence and into adulthood, the Taylor family became a special part of my life.

Bro. Taylor served our congregation as an elder, and the whole Taylor family had a deep love and reverence for God.  I remember as a very young girl observing their family - their love for each other, and their love for God - and thinking to myself, "THAT'S how I want MY Family to be someday."

I was always impressed with Sis. Taylor's knowledge of the Bible.  She KNEW the word, and knew it well.  Her Bible was well-worn, and you could see her hand-written notes in the margins.  I remember the few occasions I had to sit in her Ladies' Bible class, and I still remember things she taught there.  But more than that, I remember the personal instruction I was blessed to receive from her.  She not only knew her Bible, but she was passionate about her love for and service to the Lord - perhaps more than any other lady I have ever known.  She was continually working to uplift, encourage, teach, and save the lost.  She saw everyone she encountered as a prospect for the gospel.  Every single time I read Titus 1:3-5, which states, ""Older women likewise are to be reverent in behavior, not slanderers or slaves to much wine. They are to teach what is good, and so train the young women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled, pure, working at home, kind, and submissive to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be reviled," I think of Sis. Taylor - she was the embodiment of that passage - that's who she was, and that's what she did.

The Taylor's son, Hal, was one of my closest friends in high school.  He went to Texas A&M, and had a roommate there named Jeff.  Long story, short - for the past 28 years I have lived as Jeff's wife. And I have the Taylors to thank for that, in large part - without that connection, I probably would've never met Jeff Stewart.

While we were dating, Jeff would travel from College Station and Dallas to Longview most weekends.  A lot of those weekends, he stayed in the Taylor's home.  It was always a treat to spend time with them on those weekends.  And my favorite thing about that was the Monday after those weekends, when I would go by the Taylor's house to return their house key from Jeff.  Usually, it was just Sis. Taylor at home, she would invite me in, and we would visit.  I particularly remember the Monday after Jeff proposed - she had a lot to say to me that Monday.  Wise words about marriage, being a wife, and making a home.  She gave me a stack of books to read - all biblically based - and talked to me about those books when I had finished reading them.  Because of Sis. Taylor, Jeff and I transitioned quite easily into marriage.

When the girls were born, we decided early on that the first born would be named Sarah - after our beloved Sarah Taylor.  We had a couple of reasons for that - for one thing, the Taylor family was largely responsible for the fact that we were a family at all.   But more than that, I could think of no one better for my daughters to emulate than the godly lady who had that name.  At the time of the girls' birth, the Taylors had moved to Florida.  But they came by to visit one day when they were back in Texas when the girls were about nine months old, and Sarah got to meet Sarah.


I always wished that our Sarah could really know the great lady she was named after, but we made sure as she grew up that our Sarah at least knew the legacy behind her name.  We had a few occasions to be in Florida when our Sarah was older - the first time when she was about 15, and then again when she was 17.  Both times, we made it a point to travel to Tampa to visit the Taylors, and so that the Sarahs could spend a little time together.  One of those trips was a family vacation to Disney World.  And I remember that to ME, the very best day of that vacation was not Magic Kingdom, or EPCOT, or even the beach.  It was the day we spent with the Taylors.

I could fill many pages with my memories of Sis. Taylor and her family.  Like how she was our go-to person for anything medical (she was an RN), and once saved me from the horrors of a hornet sting, as well as doctored my laryngitis on my wedding day.  Or the time a group of us young folks showed up at their house after having a flat tire in their Cadillac that their son was driving - that's a story in itself!  Not only was she a spiritual guide for me, but she was a very spunky and funny lady.  She loved to laugh, and loved to love and enjoy others.

Sarah Taylor passed from this life yesterday.  And even though I had not seen her in the past eight or so years, and our relationship was limited to correspondence, I felt an emptiness when I heard she was gone.  Sis. Taylor was special to me, and to my family.  I know she was special to many others as well, and her influence and the good that will live on after her cannot be measured.  It lives on in the things she taught me, both by her example and her words.  It lives on in her children and grandchildren.  And it lives on in a young lady who wears her name - a Sarah who is now a young wife and mother, who knows the legacy behind her name, and honors that name in the way she is living and serving God.

John wrote in Revelation 14:13, "And I heard a voice from heaven saying, 'Write this: Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on.' 'Blessed indeed,' says the Spirit, 'that they may rest from their labors, for their deeds follow them!'”  Yes, blessed indeed is Sarah Taylor.  And blessed am I to have known her, and to have been loved by her.

BOY: [boi] n. 1. A noise with dirt on it.

Twenty-three years ago today, I gave birth for the last time.  Being the seasoned mother of twin two-year-old girls at the time, I thought I had this motherhood stuff down pat!  After all, our girls had very different personalities - one liked to be cuddled and rocked, while the other preferred being left alone with her blankey.  One was more emotional, while the other was more nurturing.  One took a pacifier, and the other relied on her fingers.  One was bold in her approach to any physical obstacles, while her sister was extremely cautious.  So what could possibly be different about this new baby, I asked?

Plenty.

For one, he was a boy.  I remember before we had our boy, one of my friends who had two boys at the time called me one day.  As we visited on the phone, she said, "Sorry, I have to go - Conrad is standing in the middle of the dining room table!"  Conrad was two.  My thoughts at that time were something to the effect of, "Why are your children out of control?"  I got the answer to that when our boy entered our world - boys are just different!  (I thought about that conversation many times later when I was retrieving Caleb from the middle of our dining room table. . . )

Caleb came into this world "all boy."  He would play while humming his own action music.  This sometimes got him into trouble during church.  He would also make sounds - car sounds, truck sounds, lawnmower sounds, airplane sounds, and on and on.  The girls and I would just stare at him in amazement - where did he come from?  When he couldn't find a toy gun, Caleb would make one out of his sisters' Barbie dolls - bending them at the waist, their legs formed the barrel, and he would run around making gun sounds, shooting us with his self-created pistol.

Not only was Caleb a boy - which was a whole new animal for me - but he came with his unique personality.  If you know Caleb, I don't have to explain. And if you don't know Caleb, I really can't explain it.  Caleb has NEVER met a stranger - from the time he was a little tike in his stroller, he would draw unwelcomed attention to us in the library as he very LOUDLY told other patrons "Hi!"  This behavior also carried over into our worship assemblies - as the men who served the Lord's supper passed by, I would have to be quick with my hand over Caleb's mouth to muffle his loud, enthusiastic greetings to them.  And then there was the grocery store, where he liked to stand in the back of the cart and belt out his favorite Bible class tunes - The Ten Plagues Song was his all-time favorite.  Imagine the looks I got when he - in his operatic voice - enthusiastically ended with "...locusts, thick darkness, DEATH OF THE FIRSTBORN!"

Caleb loves people, and Caleb loves life.  As a result of those two qualities, Caleb is well-known by a lot of people.  For most mothers I know, the pattern of motherhood is the same - your child is born and grows to the point where they have friends, and your identity changes.  You become "Johnny's mother" instead of your name.  This continues until sometime during high school, when your identity changes back to "Mrs. Jones."  With me, my identity never changed back - I'm still known by many as "Caleb's mother."  Last year while at a work event with Jeff, two different women I had never met before came up to me and asked a question - not "are you Jeff's wife?" - which is what you would think they would ask, considering the setting.  No, they both asked, "Are you Caleb's mother?"

My "baby" - that boy who changed our lives in the Stewart home - turns 23 today.  I could write volumes about Caleb, his character, the things he does in service to God and others, his love for people, and what a unique and special young man he is.  But all of that would just embarrass him.  So, I'll just say Happy Birthday, Bud!  No mother has EVER had a better son - I say that without hesitation or threat of refutation.  YOU'VE taught ME all of your life - to see things through the eyes of a boy.  To love people.  To find wonder and laughter in every little thing in life.  And to take myself a little less seriously.  I am a different person than I was 23 years ago - better - because of you.

The biblical Caleb was described by God in Numbers 14:24 as ..."My servant,...who has a different spirit, and follows me whole- heartedly."  We couldn't have thought of any better name for our Caleb - because he does have a different spirit and he follows God wholeheartedly.  I am thankful every day for our children, and the unique blessings each one has brought to my life.   I could write two very similar stories about Sarah and Becca, and what it means to be a "girl mom," and how two girls born on the same day into the same family can bring so much variety to a family - that will be two more posts for two different days.  But on THIS day, I'm especially grateful that on February 5, 1993, God saw fit to make me a boy mom. THIS boy's mom.   The best "noise with dirt on it" that I could ever hope to have.