The Boardwalk

This afternoon as I lay on my bed sorting through all that is happening in my immediate world, I could not contain the tears that insisted on sliding down my face. I wasn’t sobbing or praying; yet the tears seemed to know the emotion deep in my heart that I had been attempting to ignore.

Tears can be so annoying and messy.

I decided to pull myself together and take a run to the park with the hopes of finding solace on the boardwalk as I have done so many times before.

I didn’t pray as I ran, instead music blasted in my ears as I blocked reality from my thoughts. I focused on my form and my breathing and the large cracks in the sidewalk that could take me down if I wasn’t attentive.

Entering the park, heading for the boardwalk, I forced myself to turn off the blasting music--even with a bad attitude I was thankful there no signs of human life on my precious boardwalk.

Honestly, I was ticked at God. I know “spiritual” men and women who claim that they have never been mad at God; knowing that made me even more ticked. Considering that God already knew the true state of my heart, pretending seemed silly and, after all, He had been gracious enough to give me the boardwalk all to myself so that I could have an honest conversation with Him.

At first I found myself cantankerous as I began to tell God that I needed Him to meet with me. I told Him that I had questions and that I needed answers. What nerve for the created to demand a presence with her Creator. I thought of Job and how humbled he was when God gave him his wish for an audience with his Maker. It wasn’t pretty. I wondered if lightening might strike me dead on the spot.

However, something that I wasn’t expecting happened as I poured out my heart to my Father. As I shared my heart, longing for His presence and for answers and to feel “seen;” He met me. Birds of various colors began to fly in the section of trees where I stood, each more lovely than the other. I was mesmerized by the beauty of God’s creation. I was standing on holy ground.

I was reminded of Jesus’ words in Matthew (6:23-27) “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?”

Those messy tears came back out of nowhere and this time I didn’t stop them. I no longer cared if anyone else should venture onto the boardwalk. He reminded me of His faithfulness. He reminded me of His goodness. I was deeply humbled.

I asked God to forgive me for my lack of faith and once again laid my will down in trade for His.

Turning to leave the boardwalk, I felt forgiven and pure.

Sometimes, when we are in serious pursuit of God, He beckons us to meet with Him. In the stillness of His presence, we are changed by an unchanging God.

One day we shall behold Him face to face…but for now I’m thankful for the boardwalk.

Stay the Course...

Sheila Cote

Do I Love Being a Mom?

Do I love being a mom?  Let me think on that question for awhile.

First, there were the pregnancies; which included heartburn, sleepless nights, permanent stretch marks on my stomach that resemble a road map going to nowhere, not to mention varicose veins.

My hair fell out, my skin was oily, my feet got bigger, as well as every other part of my body.  

Labor was unforgettable.   I would have never believed the miracle of life could enter the world through so much pain.  Yet, with each birth, the memories of the pain faded, though were not completely forgotten, as a new life entered the world.

Do I love being a mom?  Well, since I became a mother I have had to give up some things that I took for granted before childbirth, such as jumping jacks and bikinis.

I learned how to survive on little sleep, how to hold a baby all night to ease the pain of an ear infection, how to love beyond limits I thought were possible, how to cook with one hand and how to endure as I held down a full time job.

I’ve seen the inside of every public bathroom within a 100 mile radius, and have somehow managed to feed a child who couldn’t feed herself, even when I was so hungry myself that I thought I might pass out.  

I have bought tutu’s, soccer shoes, softball gloves, swimming goggles, karate belts, running shoes, and more homecoming and prom dresses than you can shake a stick at.

I’ve spent countless hours at recitals, plays, softball games, soccer games, concerts, and Lord help me, if I have to go to the pumpkin patch one more time, I’m not sure if I will make it.

We have survived colds, fevers, flus, viruses and strange things that happen in the middle of the night.  I have kissed boo-boos, fed imaginary friends, and rocked a child for so long that I thought my arm might fall off.

There have been countless birthday celebrations, and so many kids in our house at one time that my husband and I wondered if anyone would notice if we vanished.  

Our home has been the place for sleepovers and bonfires and many screaming silly girls doing all the things that screaming silly girls like to do.  We have been able to share our home and our life with so many girls throughout the years, and have fallen in love with each one, watching them grow into young women, who still like to be silly.

I have spent more time driving kids to and from events, and sitting outside of schools waiting for kids, than ought to be legal.  

I have watched my three girls grow into their personalities and become confident as their own lives have taken different forms.  I have often wondered how they can all be so alike and yet be so different from each other. 

I have learned that sometimes I don’t know anything; and that sometimes I am a hero.

I have learned that my relationship with God is not a secret, and that my children need to see my heart and know that God is real in my life.  I have had to learn how to be vulnerable and weak, so my children could understand that without God I am nothing.

When children are young, it seems they will never grow up; yet when they grow up it seems there is not enough time to instill in them all that they must know before they leave the safety of the nest.  

I have had days where I have failed miserably as a mother, and days when I have felt that I deserved a gold star.  I have learned that the memories we have created as a family are held differently in the heart of each child.  They remember the simple moments, not the ones that I try really hard to make special.  They remember moments of spontaneity; yet forget the details of our planned vacations.  

They love me in spite of my weaknesses and failures, and I love them even though their bedrooms usually look like a tornado went through them.

They have seen me without makeup, and love me no less than when I have tried to look my best.  

I have loved them through friendship troubles, and we have walked the road of heartache together as many of their friends have experienced the reality of divorce.  We have laughed together, cried together, fought together, shared thousands of meals together and loved each other regardless of our many moods.

I had absolutely no idea what I was getting into when I entered into motherhood.  Motherhood has brought out the best in me and motherhood has brought out the worst in me, as nothing else possibly could.

Some days I think I might lose my mind with the many responsibilities of being a mother, but most of the time I wonder what I will do when they are no longer living under my roof, and laundry is no longer  an event without a starting or ending point.  

When we took our oldest daughter to college I thought my heart would not survive the pain of separation.

As we drove away, I realized it was not just my mother’s heart that was breaking.  I was saying goodbye to one of my best friends.  

So, to answer the question, “Do I love being a mom?”  

Nothing else that I have put my hand to has come close to the joy of being a mother.  My children are my very heart.  

I was once told that as a mother it was my job to develop my children’s character.  I believe that God develops our children’s character and then uses our children to develop our character.

Yes, I love being a mom.

Stay the course...

Sheila Cote

Ananias--Just a Christian

(From time to time as I sit down to write, God brings to mind something that He has given me to write in the past that I need to be reminded of once again. Perhaps I am not the only person who needs to be reminded of this story from God's Word.... )

Acts 9:10 (NIV) In Damascus there was a disciple named Ananias. The Lord called to him in a vision, "Ananias!"

In a play, there are leading roles and supporting roles. Most people aspire for a leading role. God shows us the importance of a supporting role, and the cost both roles entail...

Ananias was just a Christian.

He is only mentioned in the book of Acts for nine verses. (Acts 9:10-18)

Ananias enters and leaves the narrative, and we never hear mention of him again.

So why does this man have an honored place in sacred history and a special claim on the gratitude of all, who in one way or another, have entered the blessing that stems from the life and work of the Apostle Paul?

Let's enter the story and find out:

Remember the story of Paul, first known as Saul of Tarsus, who was knocked to the ground by a bright flash of light from heaven and was suddenly blind as he traveled on the road to Damascus in his search of finding Christians to persecute? Well, Saul was led by the hand to the house of Judas who lived on Straight Street, one of the main thoroughfares in Damascus.

Enter Ananias.

Ananias was a disciple who lived in Damascus. The news of Saul had already reached Damascus and Ananias was aware of the authority that had been given him to arrest believers.

The Lord called to Ananias in a vision, "Ananias!"

"Yes, Lord," he answered.

The Lord told him, "Go to the house of Judas on Straight Street and ask for a man from Tarsus named Saul, for he is praying. In a vision he has seen a man named Ananias come and place his hands on him to restore his sight." (Acts 9:10-12)

Ananias was scared. He reminded the Lord who Saul was and how dangerous he was. The Lord told Ananias that He had a great work for Saul to do. Saul was His chosen instrument, a messenger who would spread the good news of Jesus' name more widely than anyone else.

Ananias obeyed and went to the house of Judas on Straight Street.

Upon entering the house, Ananias placed his hands on Saul and said, "Brother Saul, the Lord - Jesus, who appeared to you on the road as you were coming here--has sent me so that you may see again and be filled with the Holy Spirit." (Acts 9:17) Immediately, scales fell of of Saul's eyes and he could see again.

Ananias was God's mouthpiece that day, his words were not his own; he was commissioned by God. He immediately baptized Saul. Then, Ananias leaves the story, and we never hear from him again.

Ananias, just a Christian, made history that day because of one single act of obedience. He was an ordinary man who didn't ask God for a leading role, for a title, or for credit; he was simply obedient.

Then he exited the story.

We do not know if Ananias was married or single, rich or poor. We only know that he knew the voice of the Lord and obeyed.

Just a Christian is all it takes to change the course of history and spread the news of Jesus to the world.

Ananias--just a Christian.


Say the Course...

Sheila Cote