LUKE

I heard the phone ring yesterday and I raced to pick it up hoping yet not trusting myself to hope then I said hello and all the world was RIGHT! I heard this little, gigglely voice say "Grandma, I know you miss me, but I have something to tell you." It took him several starts and I'm not sure he ever got to the story he actually called to tell me but we had a lovely chat. After I proposed to him multiple times just to hear his laugh once more, he tells me....that is SO Gross, Grandma! Luke Thomas pulls at my heart strings and makes me want to book the next flight to Arkansas.
Placing our adult children in God's hands and asking Him to direct them means He may call them into His Vineyard far from us. It is comforting to know that He is there for them and for us in those lonely times when we long to see them and touch there face. Thankfully technology allows as faster contact than a hundred years ago. Now I must send off that letter that I promised Luke. It really helps sometime to hold in your hand proof that your loved one thought of you and said it in writing. LOL Just being trandparent today. I miss you, Phillip, Merrie Beth, Jason, Steven, Timmy, Luke, and dear little Aaron. Don't grow up too soon little ones. I LOVE YOU!

The Arkansas Ozarks

Aaron

Pivot Rock

Thorncrown Chapel

Steven, Jason

Luke

Luke & Timmy

Christ of the Ozarks

2009 Mother-Daughter

Banquet

Hannah and Sarah

Naomi and Me
Sarah and I

Hannah

Abigail, Sarah and

me

His is Risen
Luke 24 & Mark 16


For the past few months we have been practicing a cantata for presentation at Easter entitled “Easter Song” by John W. Paterson. As we come to the end of the song, there is a triumphant refrain that states, “Alleluia, Christ is risen, Christ is risen, Christ is risen from the dead. Alleluia.”

As I thought on these life-changing words, I recalled an article that was titled “The Empty Tomb”. In this article the writer presents a list of well-known places that are revered because of those buried there -- historical places such as the Pyramids of Egypt, where the ancient mummified bodies of the rulers of Egypt were laid to rest. There are places visited by millions as part of sacred pilgrimages, such as the burial place of Mohammad, and the less-than-sacred such as Graceland, the burial place of Elvis Presley. Westmininster Abbey in London is the final resting place of many noble Englishmen and women (including Handel – 14th April 1796). There are the many final resting places of those who gave their lives for their countries, including those tombs of the “Unknown Soldier”.

All these famous graves have one thing in common -- that one common denominator being that the bodies of those that were buried there remain where they were buried, (except in cases such as the Pyramids where the bodies were removed by archaeologists for study).

There is one great important difference between these tombs and the tomb of Jesus. His tomb is empty, and has been empty for over two thousand years. There is no epitaph of Jesus inscribed in stone or in gold which says, “Here lies Jesus.” Rather we find that Jesus’ epitaph was spoken by the mouth of the angel to those who went to the tomb very early in the morning on the third day, when he said, “ He is NOT here … He is Risen!”

Today we have no sealed tomb that denotes the burial place of Jesus for He is alive. He is alive and available for all who will accept this truth and believe that He not only died but God raised him from the dead. He is the Son of God and has now ascended to heaven to sit at the right hand of the Father to intercede for us. We who believe have joy and assurance that He not only lives but that He reigns in our hearts.

Praise God the tomb is empty – Jesus is alive and He lives forever more.

Hallelujah – Jesus is alive !

Well fellow bloggers who refuse to give up that status to the "new " FaceBook craze I thought it was time to write something! Everything has been pretty routine around the Avery household and for that I am thankful. I will take routine over stressed anytime. I enjoyed the lovely day we had Tuesday: walked to the park with Naomi, Abigail, and Zachary. I have been watching excitedly as my daffodils and tulips push their tiny heads up through the dirt of my flowerbeds.

I too, have a Facebook account but somehow it just doesn't work for me. Yes, I have connected with some that I didn't before but the FB format doesn't work for my computer....I can't fit everything on my screen and I tried reducing the print and then it was way too small. Plus I enjoy actually reading the thoughts and activities of my friends and family. Maybe I just struggle with change. LOL So for any of you who are still blogging I am still reading and send greetings.
So long for now. Looking forward to summer!

The Invisible Mother

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response,the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously, not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor,or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this?Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer,'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.' I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going; she's going; she is gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England... Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe.I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: 'To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.' In the days ahead I would read - no, devour the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man,'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.' I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not adisease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree. When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'you're going to love it there.' As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women. Great Job, MOM! Hope this encourages you when the going gets tough as it sometimes does.

Happy Valentines Day!

Love to all our Family and friends!

My our Saviour's Love

give you

JOY

Rose are red,

Violets are blue,

Sugar is sweet

and

so are YOU!