Stop and Smell the Basil

Sometimes God shows up and I miss it. He goes “all out” to provide lavishly for me, interact closely with me, and love tenderly on me, yet I overlook it. Yes, I’m not at all proud to admit that sometimes HHHis spectacular goodness goes completely unnoticed and flies right under my radar. But then there are those other times. Those other times when I get it. I see Him and what He is up to. I trace His hand in the sand, pause and gaze at His handiwork and I am wooed all over again by His overt gestures of love.

This past summer afforded one of those gifts of God’s love that I actually noticed. I had come across a yummy pasta recipe that called for fresh basil and tomatoes and was licking my chops at the thought of making it for myself. My Daddy’s tomato plant had yielded the perfect ripe tomatoes for my culinary delight, so my quest to gather the right ingredients started off with a bang! The fresh basil, on the other hand, proved to be more elusive. The grocery store produce department lured me in with their precious little portions of fresh herbs (nicely packaged in their own tiny plastic contraption). I spotted the price. Ridiculous! Two measly leaves for how much? At this rate, an entire plant would cost more than my weekly grocery budget!

Dejected, I made my way to the lawn and garden department on my mission for the herb in question. Nada. The fresh basil plants were completely sold out. Apparently I wasn’t the only one with a hankering for that those lush, green, fragrant little pieces of flavor. Man! Without the fresh basil, the recipe would just be glorified spaghetti! That just wouldn’t do. Somewhere deep in my subconscious, I formed a pitiful whimper of a prayer – but God, I wanted basil! (insert pouty face here).

Not even a full week later, I was over at Laura’s house. As my friend and I sat on her back patio, yacking away and baking in the summer sun, I spotted a beautiful potted plant by her back door. Was it? Could it be? This plant was way too huge and lush to be…I jumped up out of my lawn chair and upon further inspection (including the smell test) all but gave that big ‘ole basil plant a hug and kiss! When she witnessed my undiluted joy at the sight of her herb, Laura kindly offered for me to take as much of her basil as I would like. Oh man, this was the best! Sure, I was excited to get my basil, but way more than that, I was excited that God heard me and knew the desires of my heart. Even if those desires are a bit random at times, He knows me. He knows what makes me smile. God was definitely in the basil.

I’m guessing that you’ve heard of Jacob’s ladder? Yes, even Jacob of the Old Testament had a basil moment. The story is found in Genesis 28 where Jacob didn’t miss God’s overture of love to him while on a cross-country journey. Mind you, Jacob was using a stone for a pillow. That would give me weird dreams, too. But Jacob saw the living GOD in his dream (angels ascending and descending up and down the steps and the Lord at the top, which was the opening to Heaven). Uh, wow. Wow. WOW! Jacob’s encounter with God was real – and he knew it! Genesis 28:16 says, “When Jacob awoke from his sleep, he thought, Surely the LORD is in this place, and I was not aware of it." He could have missed God – been too sleepy to really care, been too busy preparing for the next day’s journey, or worse yet, could have written the whole thing off as an overactive imagination. But he didn’t. God showed up in Jacob’s life and he noticed. So much so, that he took that rock of a pillow and turned it into a monument of remembrance of the time and place where God communed with him. I just can’t help but wonder how many times I have been in the royal presence of the Lord, and as Jacob so aptly put it, “I was not aware of it.”

God doesn’t have to send me visions of angels on steps (though that would be super cool). The free basil was just as much a visit from the Heavenly Provider as Jacob’s ladder was! When God sends a ladder or basil moment your way, don’t feel the need to build a monument, simply take the time to notice that there is a God who is crazy about you and is constantly doing things to win your heart. Just take time to stop and smell the basil!

Heaven CAN'T wait

It was such a blow to the gut last spring as we learned that Sugarlump's colon cancer had returned after five years of absence. It didn't sneak in, it crashed in loud and large and our heads swirled as we tried to grapple with the truth that this thing was big and there was nothing to do to stop it from slowly but surely taking her life. Such a hopeless feeling. Such an amazing lady. So giving. So gracious. So kind. So full of life. Such an amazing cook. Each dish prepared with her secret ingredient - pure undiluted joy in serving those she loves. Her smile hugs you warm and tight.

The chemo wasn't effective - her body couldn't withstand the poison. Surgery wasn't an option - the risk of her not making it through the surgery was too great and there weren't any guarantees that it could even be removed. Thus, started our agonizing wait for the inevitable. I marveled to watch each of her 5 children, their 5 spouses, 16 living grandchildren, adoring sisters, nieces, nephews, and lifelong friends as they each poured out from the overflow of love in their hearts for this amazing lady who had loved them so lavishly for years. How do you cram in all the words you want to make sure that she hears before her departure? How do you capture each sweet kiss and stolen glance for safe keeping?

It won't be long now. Things are changing quickly. While our hearts throb with the reality that we will be separated soon, there is a quiet peace knowing that this dividing chasm will be temporary. As we stand alongside her and wait, we thank God for the angels known as hospice who will guide us through this birthing process into her new life. Our deep sorrow is only trumped by our wide-eyed wonder at what lies ahead for her in eternity.

Chris Rice sings it well:
"And soon He turns the final page
We'll look the Author in the face
Then the book really begins
'Cause something tells me all these years of memories
Are only the first sentence of eternity "
("Nonny Nonny" by Chris Rice)

Home is where the TUBA is (SHE! magazine December '08)

I love Christmas. Love it love it love it! My special little guy, Jonathan (with Down Syndrome) agrees with his Mom that this is definitely the most wonderful time of the year. Jonathan doesn’t have a strong concept of “calendar”, but at the very first cold snap, he begins asking about Christmas. Over and over and over. Hence, begins the annual countdown. We are on the yuletide home stretch now and the excitement meter in the Griffin household is tipping the scale, for sure.

Only one problem. My little family is a bit “displaced” this Christmas season. We moved to a different city recently and are living in an apartment while we try to sell our house. Having downsized our living quarters over 1000 square feet, we are officially out of elbow room. Our current journey of “togetherness” is proving to be an exercise in self control, to say the least. It’s a good thing that Santa is making a list and checking it twice.

No matter how much nesting I have done in our new, space-challenged abode, it just isn’t home yet. It sort of feels like we are on an extended stay at a hotel. Who wants to have Christmas at a hotel? I mean, the song doesn’t say “I’ll be in Room 1225 for Christmas” – it says I’ll be HOME for Christmas!

I remember my very first Christmas as a married woman. It took place in a tiny little apartment that didn’t feel at all like home yet. We were dirt dumb poor college students, but all we needed was love. Okay, love and a Christmas tree. So, off we went to find our tree! We were so excited about picking out the perfect tree…until we saw the price tags! Good grief, they were expensive. I was heartbroken, because a real live tree was such a big part of my Christmas as a child. Hours into our search for forestry perfection, and cold, red noses to show for it, we had found a Christmas tree that we newlyweds could afford. Allright, so it was more like a Christmas bush. A spruce pine that stood all of 3 feet tall. Not a Frasier fir, but not bad for five bucks. Charlie Brown would be proud. I adorned our beloved tree with a plethora of red and white gingham bows and some leftover ornaments my Mom had given me from my childhood. It was a beauty. Suddenly, that apartment felt a lot more like home.

This year we’ve had to be equally creative to make our new pad feel like home. Our own special tree that we drag out from the garage each year (yeah, I succumbed to the ease of the artificial) and all of our cherished ornaments were a great start. As we unwrapped each tree adornment as though they were presents in and of themselves, we played “remember when” and laughed about the stories that were hidden in each of them.

Hanging the stockings was such a treat, too! While we don’t have a mantle this year, we decided that the high bar in the kitchen/dining room was the perfect home for our special socks. I just love to watch the eyes of each of my children as they try to imagine what treasures will stuff each crevice. And speaking of “stuffing”, we’ve been sure to do the ample amount of cooking and baking for the holiday season. Those cookies that come in a tube can be quite the culinary challenge, but when sprinkled with colored sugar, they are sure to please!

And last but not least, I’ve assured the kids that Santa will know that we have moved. My middle school daughter, Meredith, wants a digital camera (pink, of course) under the tree. My second grader, Savannah, has visions of a cell phone dancing in her head, but will probably have to settle for some new Hot Wheels cars, army gear, and Barbies. A creative combination, don’t ‘ya think?

Jonathan has quite the interesting request for the man in the big red suit this year. He has decided that he wants a tuba for Christmas. Yes, you read right. A tuba. Jonathan already has a trumpet and a trombone. It seems only fitting that he would top his collection with the crown jewel. A tuba. Is anyone thinking what I’m thinking? That a tuba and an apartment complex don’t mix? Ah, we’ll have to see what Santa thinks.

“Home” is a relative term, I suppose. Give us God’s love, each other, a hefty dose of Christmas nostalgia and we’re good to go. All that and a tuba is more than any family could ask for.

Unpack this...

Psalm 119:30 says, "The unfolding of your words gives light; it gives understanding to the simple."

Isn't that a cool word picture? God's words - written down for us - and they UNFOLD. As they unfold, they give light. Whatever situation we are needing insight on, whatever muck we're swimming in, looking for something or someONE to "shed some light on the situation" - God's Words unfold for us. Bit by bit. Piece by piece. Chomp by chomp. And no matter how many times we unpack the suitcase of His Word, we continue to see NEW things for us there.

Just the other day I was sitting at my Daddy's dining room table when he unfolded his own thoughts on God's Word. "Baby, God and His Word never get old to me. I've studied His Word for so many years now and it's more alive now than it has ever been. I keep seeing new things." Check back with ME when I'm over 80 and I hope to be unpacking the same sentiments.

And besides, this verse says it gives understanding to the SIMPLE! Or as Vance Havner said, "The cookies are on the bottom shelf."
Mmm. Cookies.