"Little Preacher Boy"
This time of year stirs up memories about past holiday seasons. I can't help but reminisce about all those Thanksgiving feasts, getting together with family and eating until I thought I'd pop. Christmas memories are also always in the back of my mind. As Buddy and I talk about past celebrations, about those Christmases when our kids were little and how excited they always were when we finally gave them the okay to rip into their presents . . . we can never rehash those memories without both of us getting teary-eyed. He shares a memory with me and I share another one with him . . . . . silence and sniffles.
On our way to church yesterday, that's what Buddy and I were doing - remembering when our kids were little. We were laughing and crying at the same time. (We are both a couple of cry babies when it comes to our kids.) There are so many things I could write about when it comes to our kids when they were younger - and some day I plan to do that. But, on this day, one specific Christmas memory is stuck in my head and I feel the need to share that with anyone who decides to read this blog.
This Christmas memory is about our son, Blake. He was quite a little boy. There was never a dull moment with Blake around, ask anyone who knew him back then. He was a character, but he was also very sweet and kindhearted and always wanted to make people around him feel happy. When he was just a toddler, he would drag out a little table that his Pappa Martin had made, put on his cowboy boots and cowboy hat, lay his little Bible on the table, and preach his little heart out. It was always the same sermon, "Feed my sheep! Feed my sheep!". I can still see him, pounding on that little table and saying that over and over and over. My Granddaddy Trafford always said, "Blake is going to be our little preacher in the family". We had no idea at the time that Granddaddy's prediction was right on the mark.
Now that I've given the backdrop of our "little preacher boy", I'll share this Christmas memory. It was the Sunday after Christmas, Blake was four years old. His Sunday School teacher was Mrs. Scruggs, our pastor's wife. Blake absolutely adored Mrs. Scruggs, and she felt the same about him. She always had something to tell us after class, usually about a profound statement Blake had made regarding the lesson. He loved to talk about Jesus and sing about Jesus. When the pastor would ask if there were any prayer requests, most of the time Blake would throw his little hand in the air. The pastor would ask Blake what his prayer request was and Blake would share it. It was usually about a friend or family member who was sick. I remember once he asked that everyone pray for a neighbor who was "just sad". He loved praying for Granny Garrett. He called her "Annie". Once the pastor asked him what his prayer request was and Blake said, "Pweeze pway fah my Annie, cause I shuwy do wuv my Annie". That one brought tears to some eyes.
That Sunday after Christmas, Blake was four, Mrs. Scruggs walked over to me after church. She had to share with me another "Blake moment". I was prepared once again to have my chest swell with pride by another "Blake is so smart or Blake is such a joy or Blake touches my heart" story from his Sunday School teacher. Mrs. Scruggs began to relay to me that the class of four-to-six year olds were so excited about their Christmas presents, she decided to let each one of them tell what they'd received for Christmas so she could move on with her lesson. One by one, the kids told about their various Christmas goodies. She said that Blake sat there very patiently waiting his turn to share. (I'm thinking to myself that he probably wanted to share his new Bible he'd gotten and maybe preach a mini sermon to the rest of the class.) Mrs. Scruggs said it was Blake's turn.
Without saying a word, he stood up, turned around, unzipped and dropped his pants, and bent over. He patted his little behind and said, "I GOT SUPERMAN UNDEROOS!" Mrs. Scruggs said it happened before she realized what was happening. She could barely get the story told because she was laughing so hard. Thing is, the rest of the class thought his Superman Underoos were so cool and made comments about them. Blake wasn't intending to be funny. He simply wanted to show off his new underwear. After all, these were the first character underwear he'd ever had. He'd always had to wear the boring, plain white ones in the past. The only one in the class who thought it was hysterical was Mrs. Scruggs. The other kids thought Blake had gotten such an awesome Christmas present and were very seriously telling him so. Mrs. Scruggs said Blake pulled up his pants, sat back down, and was beaming with pride. She pulled herself together and the lesson continued.
So much for our "little preacher" showing off his new Bible that we thought he had been so proud of. Who knew that out of his Christmas presents that year, the Superman Underoos would take priority over his new "big boy Bible". As parents, that was not one of our proudest moments, but it's a memory we'll never forget (and one his Sunday School teacher and the other kids in the class probably won't forget either.)
Monday, November 22, 2010
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Drinking From the King's Cup
Drinking From the King's Cup
Buddy and I visited a friend in the nursing home yesterday. We have been friends since we were just little tikes and he's a relative of Buddy's. He had a horrible four-wheeler accident a couple of months ago and was seriously injured. For several days, he wasn't expected to pull through. After weeks and weeks in the hospital and undergoing lung surgery, he is now at the nursing home in Morrilton for rehabilitation.
Just the week previously, Buddy had visited him at the hospital in Little Rock and he could still barely speak and was unable to walk. Much to our surprise when we walked into his room at the nursing home yesterday, the second he saw us he smiled really big and threw up his arm and said, "Hey, Buddy and Susan!" Buddy couldn't get over how much he'd improved in only a week. Ricky told us that he'd been taking a few steps with the aid of a walker and he is just overall doing so much better.
After visiting with Ricky for awhile, he began to share with us different experiences he has had since his tragic accident. I hadn't intended to write a blog about this until I just opened my devotional book and turned to today's entry. "Whoever drinks from the water that I will give him will never get thirsty again - ever!" (John 4:14) Oh my! After hearing Ricky's description of some events that have occurred over the past few weeks that have to be more than mere coincidences - and then seeing what my devotional scripture was for today - well, all I have to say is, "It's time to write again!" So, here we go . . . .
Ricky had both Buddy and me completely captivated! He was beaming while relating these happenings to us. The one I feel I have to share, because of today's verse, is about water. Ricky said he has been so thirsty for weeks. He also had been unable to speak for weeks and had problems even letting anyone know that he was so very thirsty. Shortly after he was moved to the nursing home last week, still unable to speak very well, fatiguing extremely easily, and unable to make his requests known very well, he said he was so thirsty he thought he was going to die. He told us that he didn't know a person could be so thirsty and he was desperate for a drink of cold water. He began to pray and tell God that he sure would appreciate it if He would send someone in his room with a cold drink of water. He said he watched the clock and in exactly fifteen minutes, an aide came into his room with a cup and said, "I thought you might want a drink of water". She helped Ricky drink from the cup and he was thinking to himself that this was the best water he'd ever had in his life. The aide left and Ricky started realizing that the few sips of water he'd just had didn't even begin to satisfy his extreme thirst and dry throat. So, he began to pray to God again, saying, "God, I sure don't want to bother you, but if you'd just let someone out there know that I need more water, I'd sure be grateful". He watched the clock. Exactly fifteen minutes after he'd prayed, the aide came into his room again and said, "I brought you more water, eight ounces". Ricky said he was absolutely thrilled and exuberantly gulped the cold water. The aide again left the room.
A few minutes passed. Ricky was STILL thirsty. He said, "Father, if I had about twice that much water, I think it would finally quench my thirst." In exactly fifteen minutes, in walked an aide carrying a large plastic cup. She said to Ricky, "I brought you more water, 16 ounces this time" (exactly twice the amount she'd brought before.) Ricky said he drank the water and his thirst was finally quenched.
I can't recount this like Ricky did. You'd really need to hear him talk about it. He was talking about "drinking from the King's cup", because he knew God had heard his request and sent the water to him. There are so many analogies that can be drawn from this from a spiritual viewpoint, but we'll leave that to Ricky. He's planning to write a book about his experiences and I wouldn't be surprised if it's entitled Drinking From the King's Cup. I'm so excited for him and am very much looking forward to reading it!
Ricky Chapman is truly inspirational! Buddy and I thought we'd visit him to "cheer him up" and "make him feel better". . . . . Just the opposite happened. We left the nursing home feeling so uplifted and hopeful because of Ricky's testimony - What a blessing!!!
Susan Trafford Martin
November 22, 2010
Buddy and I visited a friend in the nursing home yesterday. We have been friends since we were just little tikes and he's a relative of Buddy's. He had a horrible four-wheeler accident a couple of months ago and was seriously injured. For several days, he wasn't expected to pull through. After weeks and weeks in the hospital and undergoing lung surgery, he is now at the nursing home in Morrilton for rehabilitation.
Just the week previously, Buddy had visited him at the hospital in Little Rock and he could still barely speak and was unable to walk. Much to our surprise when we walked into his room at the nursing home yesterday, the second he saw us he smiled really big and threw up his arm and said, "Hey, Buddy and Susan!" Buddy couldn't get over how much he'd improved in only a week. Ricky told us that he'd been taking a few steps with the aid of a walker and he is just overall doing so much better.
After visiting with Ricky for awhile, he began to share with us different experiences he has had since his tragic accident. I hadn't intended to write a blog about this until I just opened my devotional book and turned to today's entry. "Whoever drinks from the water that I will give him will never get thirsty again - ever!" (John 4:14) Oh my! After hearing Ricky's description of some events that have occurred over the past few weeks that have to be more than mere coincidences - and then seeing what my devotional scripture was for today - well, all I have to say is, "It's time to write again!" So, here we go . . . .
Ricky had both Buddy and me completely captivated! He was beaming while relating these happenings to us. The one I feel I have to share, because of today's verse, is about water. Ricky said he has been so thirsty for weeks. He also had been unable to speak for weeks and had problems even letting anyone know that he was so very thirsty. Shortly after he was moved to the nursing home last week, still unable to speak very well, fatiguing extremely easily, and unable to make his requests known very well, he said he was so thirsty he thought he was going to die. He told us that he didn't know a person could be so thirsty and he was desperate for a drink of cold water. He began to pray and tell God that he sure would appreciate it if He would send someone in his room with a cold drink of water. He said he watched the clock and in exactly fifteen minutes, an aide came into his room with a cup and said, "I thought you might want a drink of water". She helped Ricky drink from the cup and he was thinking to himself that this was the best water he'd ever had in his life. The aide left and Ricky started realizing that the few sips of water he'd just had didn't even begin to satisfy his extreme thirst and dry throat. So, he began to pray to God again, saying, "God, I sure don't want to bother you, but if you'd just let someone out there know that I need more water, I'd sure be grateful". He watched the clock. Exactly fifteen minutes after he'd prayed, the aide came into his room again and said, "I brought you more water, eight ounces". Ricky said he was absolutely thrilled and exuberantly gulped the cold water. The aide again left the room.
A few minutes passed. Ricky was STILL thirsty. He said, "Father, if I had about twice that much water, I think it would finally quench my thirst." In exactly fifteen minutes, in walked an aide carrying a large plastic cup. She said to Ricky, "I brought you more water, 16 ounces this time" (exactly twice the amount she'd brought before.) Ricky said he drank the water and his thirst was finally quenched.
I can't recount this like Ricky did. You'd really need to hear him talk about it. He was talking about "drinking from the King's cup", because he knew God had heard his request and sent the water to him. There are so many analogies that can be drawn from this from a spiritual viewpoint, but we'll leave that to Ricky. He's planning to write a book about his experiences and I wouldn't be surprised if it's entitled Drinking From the King's Cup. I'm so excited for him and am very much looking forward to reading it!
Ricky Chapman is truly inspirational! Buddy and I thought we'd visit him to "cheer him up" and "make him feel better". . . . . Just the opposite happened. We left the nursing home feeling so uplifted and hopeful because of Ricky's testimony - What a blessing!!!
Susan Trafford Martin
November 22, 2010
What Faith Looks Like
What Faith Looks Like
I've had the privilege of being in the company of so many faithful Christians over the past 51 years. I have so many family members who have set such a Godly example. I've had many friends over the years who have been devoted to living for Jesus. Today I want to share one of the biggest blessings that has ever been bestowed on me, a friendship I've had for over 20 years.
The year my son started kindergarten at Vilonia Elementary School, I also started working there as an aide. At a meeting a couple of days before school started, I sat across the table from a teacher who had also just been hired. We began talking and soon learned we had a lot in common. Our friendship was pretty much immediate and it wasn't long before we were spending time together outside of school. She was my oldest daughter's sixth grade English teacher and, of course, Kristi loved her. The rest of my family would soon also grow to love her and she became like a member of our family very quickly.
One of our favorite things to do over the past 20+ years is to meet at Cracker Barrel for breakfast on Saturday morning from time to time. Our "breakfasts" have never been less than four hours long. After feasting on pancakes and bacon, we always end up sitting in the rocking chairs on the porch of Cracker Barrel and talking for hours. She's a special person. I love her. My mother always told me if a person has two people in their lifetime who prove themselves to be true friends, that person is very blessed. I have been greatly blessed. A person couldn't have a more true, caring, trustworthy friend on this earth.
A little over a year ago, my friend had some medical tests done. She called me late one evening, on a Wednesday, and said, "It's cancer". I felt my heart drop and there was a lump in my throat so huge I could hardly get a word out. I can't even recall the details of that conversation now, but we talked for awhile. I told her I would come over, but she assured me that she was fine and that she really just needed some time alone to process this information she'd just gotten that afternoon. She said, "Just pray, just pray".
This wasn't her first experience at being slapped in the face by bad news. She'd had many letdowns and heartbreaks in years past. Still, she leaned on Jesus and never harbored bitterness or self pity.
Many tests later, she was scheduled for surgery. Just before Thanksgiving, she had extensive surgery and the news wasn't good. Just like before, through the bad reports after tests and less-than-optimistic discussions with various doctors, she never lost faith. She was very concerned and anxious about what she would be facing from a medical aspect, she admitted that. But, she never lost faith. After one of the visits with her oncologist before the surgery, after being given the "I don't want to give you false hope" lecture from the doctor, we were on our way back to Conway. My heart was so heavy for my dear friend. Tears were welling up in her eyes and began to overflow onto her cheeks, as she expressed her deepest thoughts and feelings. I'll never forget what she said to me. Tears were streaming, but she still had that sweet, peaceful smile on her face, as she said, "I don't know what is going to happen, but I do know this: God will heal me one way or the other. He will either heal my physical body or He'll give me a new body when He takes me to Heaven". She added, "No matter what happens, it's going to be okay". I felt the presence of the Holy Spirit so strongly as I heard her very calmly and very assuredly express her complete and unflinching confidence in her Lord and Savior. I began thanking the Lord for this dear friend whose bad diagnosis would become such an inspirational testimony to so many people.
Just a few short months ago, after going through several months of chemotherapy and very close observation by her oncologist, she was told that she appeared to be another miracle. Her last tests were completely clear and she appeared to be cancer free. We were all rejoicing and celebrating!
Last night I returned home and had a message on my machine. It was my friend. She was her usual sweet self and said she "just wanted to talk to me". But, there was something in her voice that wasn't quite right. I tried returning her call a few times, but I received no answer. I left voice mails. This morning I looked for her at church, but couldn't find her. I was concerned because she was always at church. After I'd taken my seat at my usual spot, I turned around and saw my sweet friend walking toward me. We'd somehow missed each other and she'd come to find me. Before she even reached me, I felt something wasn't right. She had that same sweet smile, but a different look in her eyes. We hugged and I complimented her new hairstyle. This was the first time she hadn't worn a wig in almost a year. Her hair had grown enough to be cut and styled into a very cute cut. I was telling her how nice it looked on her and she grabbed me and hugged me again, very tightly. As we embraced, she began telling me why she'd wanted to talk to me the evening before and why I'd picked up a different tone in her voice mail. "The followup tests weren't good. The cancer markers are very high. There's something hiding inside me and they have to try to find where it is". Oh no, not again. We really thought this was fixed once and for all. She'd been doing so well. I looked at her and saw huge tears welling up in her eyes. But still, that sweet smile. I couldn't hide my concern and my shock, but her smile reassured me. "It's going to be okay, no matter what".
My sweet friend, one of the dearest friends I've ever had in my life. I'm sad today, but I'm trying to have faith. I'm hoping some of her faith will rub off on me. What a testimony! What an example of genuine faith! I've witnessed her close fellowship with Jesus Christ for over 20 years, day in and day out, through good and bad. I've observed her ongoing trust in her Lord and Savior no matter what life throws her way. I don't know why God blessed me with her friendship all these years, but I'll forever be so very thankful He has. To be able to call Beverly McGuire a close friend is quite an honor and a privilege. I've learned so much from her about faith and forgiveness and Christ-like love.
We don't know what the next few months hold in store for this beautiful, petite, soft-spoken, strong warrior who wears the Armor of God like a glove, but I'm hanging onto the fact that "it'll all be okay, no matter what". This is what faith looks like.
Susan Trafford Martin
November 21, 2010
I've had the privilege of being in the company of so many faithful Christians over the past 51 years. I have so many family members who have set such a Godly example. I've had many friends over the years who have been devoted to living for Jesus. Today I want to share one of the biggest blessings that has ever been bestowed on me, a friendship I've had for over 20 years.
The year my son started kindergarten at Vilonia Elementary School, I also started working there as an aide. At a meeting a couple of days before school started, I sat across the table from a teacher who had also just been hired. We began talking and soon learned we had a lot in common. Our friendship was pretty much immediate and it wasn't long before we were spending time together outside of school. She was my oldest daughter's sixth grade English teacher and, of course, Kristi loved her. The rest of my family would soon also grow to love her and she became like a member of our family very quickly.
One of our favorite things to do over the past 20+ years is to meet at Cracker Barrel for breakfast on Saturday morning from time to time. Our "breakfasts" have never been less than four hours long. After feasting on pancakes and bacon, we always end up sitting in the rocking chairs on the porch of Cracker Barrel and talking for hours. She's a special person. I love her. My mother always told me if a person has two people in their lifetime who prove themselves to be true friends, that person is very blessed. I have been greatly blessed. A person couldn't have a more true, caring, trustworthy friend on this earth.
A little over a year ago, my friend had some medical tests done. She called me late one evening, on a Wednesday, and said, "It's cancer". I felt my heart drop and there was a lump in my throat so huge I could hardly get a word out. I can't even recall the details of that conversation now, but we talked for awhile. I told her I would come over, but she assured me that she was fine and that she really just needed some time alone to process this information she'd just gotten that afternoon. She said, "Just pray, just pray".
This wasn't her first experience at being slapped in the face by bad news. She'd had many letdowns and heartbreaks in years past. Still, she leaned on Jesus and never harbored bitterness or self pity.
Many tests later, she was scheduled for surgery. Just before Thanksgiving, she had extensive surgery and the news wasn't good. Just like before, through the bad reports after tests and less-than-optimistic discussions with various doctors, she never lost faith. She was very concerned and anxious about what she would be facing from a medical aspect, she admitted that. But, she never lost faith. After one of the visits with her oncologist before the surgery, after being given the "I don't want to give you false hope" lecture from the doctor, we were on our way back to Conway. My heart was so heavy for my dear friend. Tears were welling up in her eyes and began to overflow onto her cheeks, as she expressed her deepest thoughts and feelings. I'll never forget what she said to me. Tears were streaming, but she still had that sweet, peaceful smile on her face, as she said, "I don't know what is going to happen, but I do know this: God will heal me one way or the other. He will either heal my physical body or He'll give me a new body when He takes me to Heaven". She added, "No matter what happens, it's going to be okay". I felt the presence of the Holy Spirit so strongly as I heard her very calmly and very assuredly express her complete and unflinching confidence in her Lord and Savior. I began thanking the Lord for this dear friend whose bad diagnosis would become such an inspirational testimony to so many people.
Just a few short months ago, after going through several months of chemotherapy and very close observation by her oncologist, she was told that she appeared to be another miracle. Her last tests were completely clear and she appeared to be cancer free. We were all rejoicing and celebrating!
Last night I returned home and had a message on my machine. It was my friend. She was her usual sweet self and said she "just wanted to talk to me". But, there was something in her voice that wasn't quite right. I tried returning her call a few times, but I received no answer. I left voice mails. This morning I looked for her at church, but couldn't find her. I was concerned because she was always at church. After I'd taken my seat at my usual spot, I turned around and saw my sweet friend walking toward me. We'd somehow missed each other and she'd come to find me. Before she even reached me, I felt something wasn't right. She had that same sweet smile, but a different look in her eyes. We hugged and I complimented her new hairstyle. This was the first time she hadn't worn a wig in almost a year. Her hair had grown enough to be cut and styled into a very cute cut. I was telling her how nice it looked on her and she grabbed me and hugged me again, very tightly. As we embraced, she began telling me why she'd wanted to talk to me the evening before and why I'd picked up a different tone in her voice mail. "The followup tests weren't good. The cancer markers are very high. There's something hiding inside me and they have to try to find where it is". Oh no, not again. We really thought this was fixed once and for all. She'd been doing so well. I looked at her and saw huge tears welling up in her eyes. But still, that sweet smile. I couldn't hide my concern and my shock, but her smile reassured me. "It's going to be okay, no matter what".
My sweet friend, one of the dearest friends I've ever had in my life. I'm sad today, but I'm trying to have faith. I'm hoping some of her faith will rub off on me. What a testimony! What an example of genuine faith! I've witnessed her close fellowship with Jesus Christ for over 20 years, day in and day out, through good and bad. I've observed her ongoing trust in her Lord and Savior no matter what life throws her way. I don't know why God blessed me with her friendship all these years, but I'll forever be so very thankful He has. To be able to call Beverly McGuire a close friend is quite an honor and a privilege. I've learned so much from her about faith and forgiveness and Christ-like love.
We don't know what the next few months hold in store for this beautiful, petite, soft-spoken, strong warrior who wears the Armor of God like a glove, but I'm hanging onto the fact that "it'll all be okay, no matter what". This is what faith looks like.
Susan Trafford Martin
November 21, 2010
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Recipe for Life
It's that time of year again. Time to go through the old family recipes that were passed down by my mother and my grandmothers in preparation for our holiday feast. I have hundreds of recipes, some even dating back to my great-grandmother. It's impossible for me to make these ridiculously delicious dishes without having the recipe at hand. I have to follow them exactly as written in order to ensure the same tasty result. If I leave something out or decide to "do my own thing" and add an ingredient or two, the taste will be different. I have changed a couple of the recipes by adding an ingredient or leaving an ingredient out to make them taste even better.
The same is true of what I refer to as "recipes for life". Our individual lives are made up of lots of different ingredients, with different amounts of good and bad elements. Just like old family recipes, a lot of the components are passed down from one generation to the next. Each generation chooses to either keep the exact same recipe or to change it up a bit.
Changing the family "recipe for life" that is passed down through the years can have either positive or negative results for our children and grandchildren. With each new generation there can be many changes in the various aspects of our individual lives in comparison to the generation before. Some changes are good. Some changes are unavoidable. Some are tragic. In some families, there are ingredients that should be removed from the family "recipe for life" for the benefit and well being of future generations - immorality, abusiveness, and addiction, just to name a few. Some family recipes should have a few ingredients added, such as compassion, patience, better communication, selflessness, or stronger devotion to spiritual matters. The legacy of the past generation determines the propensity of the next generation to a very large degree. Each one of us has the opportunity to scratch off undesirable ingredients from our family "recipe" and to add more nourishing ingredients. We can change the makeup of our family "recipe for life" legacy for better or for worse.
Every single one of us, as individual family members, adds ingredients to or removes ingredients from the family "recipe". These changes are passed down to the next generation. Those future family members will have the choice to keep the same recipe for their children. The ingredients we add to or take away today will have an effect on our children and their children tomorrow. The choices we make, the things we do, the places we go, the things we say, the people with whom we keep company, our thoughts, our actions, our decisions, our beliefs - it all matters.
We can pass on a legacy of depression, bitterness, immorality, addiction, emotional or physical abuse, anger, selfishness, worldliness . . . or we can choose to leave a legacy of joy, hope, clean living, patience, love, and most importantly, faith in Jesus Christ and dependence on His Word. Our contributions to the family recipe will add either sweet flavor or gall. Poor choices on our part today spawn difficulties not only for us personally, but for family members, present and future. Our choices, actions, and beliefs affect others.
We each contribute different measurements of various ingredients to the making of our family recipe for life. That's just a fact. Mistakes or poor choices from past generations do not have to be repeated. We can take those ingredients out of the mix. Love for God and love for others are ingredients that should be written in the family recipe with unerasable ink, passed down from generation to generation. We all have the ability to change our individual family recipes for the better. We should continue using the necessary and helpful ingredients in the recipe that was handed down to us to pass down to the next generation, but we should each have the desire to change those that are harmful.
What will you add to or take from your family's "recipe"? Will it be helpful or harmful? The mixing bowl is in front of you, ingredients are on the table, the spoon is in your hand . . . . what is added or thrown in the garbage is up to you. Choose prayerfully and mix well.
Susan Trafford Martin
November 13, 2010
Thursday, November 4, 2010
What Was I Thinking?
I'd known him practically all of my life. Our families had known each other for literally generations. He was three years older. I was a kid, probably 14 or 15 years old, when he was working at Kroger after school. My mom and I would see him every Saturday when we went grocery shopping. He'd always have that big smile on his face. He was tall and lanky. One day my mom said, "Buddy sure is a friendly young man". I said, "Yeah". . . . . but, what was I thinking? I was thinking, "...and he's really cute too!".
-------- Fast forward a few years, June 1979: The previous two years had been extremely life-changing for me. A two-year relationship had ended badly. As a naive young girl, I'd given into temptation and had become pregnant. The one who had pledged his devotion to me and had told me for two years how much he loved me had shown his true colors when I told him about the baby. A few weeks afterwards, his mom called me and was very upset. He was gone. She'd just found out he had joined the Navy and he had left that morning. He'd kept this a secret for weeks. I had quit college, gotten a full-time job, and was planning for our life together. I had a furnished apartment and was preparing to get married soon. To hear this news from his mom felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. I was devastated. What was I thinking? Initially, I was thinking, "My life is over. I have no future". Once I finally grasped what had happened, I knew I had to change my way of thinking. My new way of thinking: "This is the bed I've made. Now I've got to lie in it. I have to focus on my baby, my innocent baby who didn't ask for this". I remember very clearly the day I determined in my mind that I would never allow myself to be hurt like this again. I would be a single mom the rest of my life and that's just the way it was. I'd just take it one day at a time and jump the hurdles of life as they presented themselves in the future. And, even though I was barely 18 years old, I knew I had many hardships ahead of me, because of the bad choices I'd made. I couldn't go through my life blaming someone else. I had to take responsibility for my own future and take care of my baby the best I could. The plans I'd made for myself had been squashed. I'd always planned to become a teacher, but I had no choice except to quit college and start working full-time. It was no longer just about me and my plans for myself. I had a baby to think about now. . . . Months went by. I had a baby girl and I was taking it one day at a time. . .
......My baby girl, Kristi Elise, had just turned one year old. I rushed to Kroger after work, anxious to get home and spend time with her. I was fumbling through my purse as I walked in the door and bumped into someone. As I was apologizing, I looked up and saw it was Buddy Martin - with that contagious smile of his. I was thinking, "Where the heck has he been all of these years?" So . . . . I asked, "Where the heck have you been all of these years?" He told me about being in the Navy for four years and he'd just gotten back home. We chit-chatted for a couple of minutes. I told him I was in a hurry, but it was good to see him. I made my purchases and as I was putting my things in the car, a blue Chevy pulled up beside me and someone said, "Hey, Susan!" It was Buddy, grinning from ear to ear. He said, "I was just curious where you work because you're wearing that lab coat". I told him and we chit-chatted another couple of minutes. I told him I really needed to get home and he said, "I don't see a ring on your finger . . . . " I was thinking, "I know where this is going and I've been burned one too many times to let a good-looking smooth-talking guy get to me again". I said, "Nope, you don't see a ring on my finger". He said, "I can't believe someone hasn't swooped you up and put a ring on your finger!" I was thinking, "Oh, you're really smooth, just like every other guy on the planet". He went on to tell me he'd really like to take me out sometime, "just to catch up". I told him I was really busy and didn't have time for a social life. He said, "Can I just call you sometime?" I was thinking, "You're a persistent character". But then, I let my guard down and looked at him again - Those brown eyes of his looked so innocent. He reminded me of a puppy dog who just needed a friend to talk to. So, I said, "Okay, call me".
Well, he called. We went out. What was I thinking on that first date? I was thinking, "I can't believe I feel so comfortable and so relaxed, but I can't let my guard down. He's a guy and guys cannot be trusted". The date ended. I went home and I couldn't stop thinking about how much I enjoyed spending that evening with Buddy. I hadn't had that much fun in a very long time. He made me laugh. I hadn't really laughed in probably two years. For a couple of hours, Buddy had taken me away from my reality. That night, as I held my baby girl, I thought, "What am I thinking?" I didn't even know if he'd been home from the Navy long enough to hear about me having a baby. I assumed he hadn't or he would've never called me in the first place. As I watched my baby sleeping, I thought, "If he does call me again, I'll tell him and that'll be the end of that." Not only could I not imagine a guy who was raised in a Christian home with strong morals being seriously interested in an unwed mother who had disgraced her family and whose future was completely up in the air, but I also would not allow myself to even consider that he would still be interested if he knew about the mess I'd made of my life. I had to protect myself from being hurt again and I was just going to nip it in the bud before it had a chance to go any further. I was convinced that once he found out about my baby, I wouldn't have to worry about that anymore anyway: It would end before it ever started.
The next afternoon while I was at work, Buddy came by to see me. My heart dropped. I was beginning to like him and I knew nothing could ever come of it and I had to end it right then. Buddy was in-between his two jobs at Soundcraft and Kroger and said he'd just wanted to pop in and see me for a minute. I could hardly get a word in edgewise. He was telling me about a bluegrass festival he wanted to take me to the next evening, when I blurted out, "I have a baby!". Well, you could've heard a pin drop . . . . complete quiet for what seemed like 20 minutes. He obviously hadn't heard about this and was caught completely off guard. As I watched Buddy mulling this surprising news over, my nervousness and feeling of heaviness began to transform into acceptance. I was thinking, "This is exactly what I expected and it's okay. I can go back to life as usual before that day in Kroger when I literally ran into Buddy". That way of thinking had become my "comfort zone" and I was ready to dig into that frame of mind again, once and for all.
After an eternity of silence, Buddy looked at me and said, "Boy or girl?" I was thinking, "This I can talk about, my baby girl. We can have a little conversation about her and I'll help him bow out of this gracefully without making him feel like a jerk".
We talked about my little Kristi and I told him how she'd just had her first birthday. We'd talk a minute and then Buddy would start thinking again . . . . quietly pondering things over. I told him I appreciated him coming by, but I really had to get back to work and thanks again for the movie the night before. I was thinking, "It should be easy now for him to make a quick exit and get out of this obviously awkward situation". But, as I turned to go back into the office, he said, "Hey, wait a minute . . . . when can I meet Kristi?" I can still see him standing there, looking at me with those puppy dog eyes and that big ole grin on his face. And that was the moment my broken heart began to mend. I knew I had to let go of the past and not judge every guy by the selfishness of one. I didn't know where this path would lead, but I couldn't keep shutting myself off from the world like I'd been doing. I had a feeling there was something different about Buddy Martin, and I had to give him the benefit of the doubt or I might regret it for the rest of my life.
That very next day, Buddy was to meet Kristi. I was thinking, "This will be the ultimate test, how he and Kristi react to one another". Buddy walked in and I introduced him to Kristi. I have to admit, I was pretty nervous. I knew this had to be very awkward for him, but he didn't seem to be uncomfortable at all. And what happened next mended another huge part of my heart . . . . Kristi actually threw up her little arms wanting Buddy to pick her up! It was as if she'd known him from the beginning. He wasn't a stranger to her at all. It was unbelievable and I couldn't hold my tears back. I was thinking, "What just happened?" Buddy stayed for hours and played with Kristi. They bonded immediately. I remember watching them together and sometimes they would just stare at each other, with expressions of adoration on both their faces. I remember thinking, "What's going to be the outcome of this?"
We were inseparable from that day forward. A few months fled by. It became apparent to me that Buddy's family had great affection for Kristi as well. Buddy's dad and Kristi had a strong bond very quickly. He adored her and she obviously loved him. Mr. Martin put another patch on my heart the first time he referred to himself as "Kristi's Pappa". I remember thinking, "I don't know how this chapter in my life is going to end, but I'll always love this Martin family!"
On a sunny day in September, Buddy and I were watching Kristi play in her sandbox. He was unusually quiet. I felt the feelings of insecurity try to creep back in. I was just about to pull out my mask of strength and independence that I had hidden away a couple of months previously, when Buddy looked at me very seriously . . . . this time without the big grin. I was thinking, "Oh boy, here we go. Where'd his smile go? . . . He's always smiling . . . This can't be good. Time to toughen up and take the blow." He said, "You know, Kristi needs a daddy". This caught me by surprise and I said, in a defensive tone, "Welllll, a daddy for Kristi would be nice, but why would you say something like that?" I had my guard back up and I was ready for anything he was going to dish out. I was thinking, "He's probably heard the gossip from the busy bodies in the area who have nothing better to do than make up more outlandish rumors about the latest community scandal (me) and he's deciding to back off from this soap opera that is my life". I was preparing to conjure up the "tough / who needs you" attitude, when these words came out of Buddy's mouth: "I want to be her dad". . . . .
. . . . . . complete silence for a couple of minutes. I was thinking, "Huh?" So .... I said, "Huh????" He looked at me and stood up. I looked at him and I stood up. He looked at Kristi. I looked at Kristi. We looked at each other and I saw he had tears in his eyes. He took my hands in his and said, "I love you. I love Kristi. I want to marry you and be Kristi's dad". At that second, my heart was whole again. At that second, I began completely trusting again. At that second, I was thinking, "Is this really real?". I could not believe my ears and I think I was probably in a bit of shock. We had previously expressed that we cared about one another, but I hadn't dared allow myself to even consider the thought of marriage. I was completely swept off my feet by this sweet, heartfelt, warm proposal. Through my tears, I replied, "You'll be an awesome daddy to Kristi".
On November 10, 1979, I married the best friend I'd ever had. We stood before friends and family and made a vow to each other to love, honor, and cherish one another, in good times and bad, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. I'm not going to try to paint a picture of a perfect marriage. Ours has not been perfect by any stretch of the imagination. We've had lots of ups and downs over the past 31 years. We both had lots of adjustments to make, especially those first few years. We've both made mistakes. We are both very headstrong and can be extremely stubborn. We both had to learn to make compromises in lots of areas. He still drives me absolutely crazy sometimes when we disagree, and I'm sure he'd say the same thing about me. We've had some really frustrating arguments and there have been times I just wanted to throw up my hands. But, when it's all said and done, I always knew that God put us together and there's no one else in this world I'd rather have by my side.
To summarize, I'll just put it this way:
What was I thinking when Buddy placed this gold ring on my finger 31 years ago? I was thinking, "What did I ever do to deserve a man like this? Thank you Jesus. Thank you Jesus. Thank you Jesus".
What am I thinking now, 31 years later? I'm thinking, "What did I ever do to deserve such a devoted, caring, hardworking, dedicated husband. Why did God bless me by sending Buddy my way and giving us two more awesome kids on top of that!?"
This I know: Buddy Martin has been my "knight in shining armor" for the past 31 years. Maybe that sounds "corny" to some people and that's okay. It might be a little corny, but it's exactly how I feel. That day in Kroger when he first started flirting with me and asked me if he could call me, I thought I caught a gleam of sincerity in his beautiful brown eyes. I'm so glad something deep in my heart let me know I should take a chance. Buddy has stood by my side, unflinchingly, for all these years. He has been my protector, my defender, my most trusted confidant, my encourager, my friend. So, no matter how corny it may sound, I'm going to keep saying it! When I look at Buddy Martin, I see a strong, handsome prince on a white horse who I know, without a doubt, will always be here for me and our family.
I've made the mistake of taking my Buddy for granted at times, but I always recall how it was before Buddy was in my life and how much he shows his love for me and for our family on a daily basis . . . . and I ask myself, "Seriously, what am I thinking?"
Susan Trafford Martin
November 4, 2010
-------- Fast forward a few years, June 1979: The previous two years had been extremely life-changing for me. A two-year relationship had ended badly. As a naive young girl, I'd given into temptation and had become pregnant. The one who had pledged his devotion to me and had told me for two years how much he loved me had shown his true colors when I told him about the baby. A few weeks afterwards, his mom called me and was very upset. He was gone. She'd just found out he had joined the Navy and he had left that morning. He'd kept this a secret for weeks. I had quit college, gotten a full-time job, and was planning for our life together. I had a furnished apartment and was preparing to get married soon. To hear this news from his mom felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. I was devastated. What was I thinking? Initially, I was thinking, "My life is over. I have no future". Once I finally grasped what had happened, I knew I had to change my way of thinking. My new way of thinking: "This is the bed I've made. Now I've got to lie in it. I have to focus on my baby, my innocent baby who didn't ask for this". I remember very clearly the day I determined in my mind that I would never allow myself to be hurt like this again. I would be a single mom the rest of my life and that's just the way it was. I'd just take it one day at a time and jump the hurdles of life as they presented themselves in the future. And, even though I was barely 18 years old, I knew I had many hardships ahead of me, because of the bad choices I'd made. I couldn't go through my life blaming someone else. I had to take responsibility for my own future and take care of my baby the best I could. The plans I'd made for myself had been squashed. I'd always planned to become a teacher, but I had no choice except to quit college and start working full-time. It was no longer just about me and my plans for myself. I had a baby to think about now. . . . Months went by. I had a baby girl and I was taking it one day at a time. . .
......My baby girl, Kristi Elise, had just turned one year old. I rushed to Kroger after work, anxious to get home and spend time with her. I was fumbling through my purse as I walked in the door and bumped into someone. As I was apologizing, I looked up and saw it was Buddy Martin - with that contagious smile of his. I was thinking, "Where the heck has he been all of these years?" So . . . . I asked, "Where the heck have you been all of these years?" He told me about being in the Navy for four years and he'd just gotten back home. We chit-chatted for a couple of minutes. I told him I was in a hurry, but it was good to see him. I made my purchases and as I was putting my things in the car, a blue Chevy pulled up beside me and someone said, "Hey, Susan!" It was Buddy, grinning from ear to ear. He said, "I was just curious where you work because you're wearing that lab coat". I told him and we chit-chatted another couple of minutes. I told him I really needed to get home and he said, "I don't see a ring on your finger . . . . " I was thinking, "I know where this is going and I've been burned one too many times to let a good-looking smooth-talking guy get to me again". I said, "Nope, you don't see a ring on my finger". He said, "I can't believe someone hasn't swooped you up and put a ring on your finger!" I was thinking, "Oh, you're really smooth, just like every other guy on the planet". He went on to tell me he'd really like to take me out sometime, "just to catch up". I told him I was really busy and didn't have time for a social life. He said, "Can I just call you sometime?" I was thinking, "You're a persistent character". But then, I let my guard down and looked at him again - Those brown eyes of his looked so innocent. He reminded me of a puppy dog who just needed a friend to talk to. So, I said, "Okay, call me".
Well, he called. We went out. What was I thinking on that first date? I was thinking, "I can't believe I feel so comfortable and so relaxed, but I can't let my guard down. He's a guy and guys cannot be trusted". The date ended. I went home and I couldn't stop thinking about how much I enjoyed spending that evening with Buddy. I hadn't had that much fun in a very long time. He made me laugh. I hadn't really laughed in probably two years. For a couple of hours, Buddy had taken me away from my reality. That night, as I held my baby girl, I thought, "What am I thinking?" I didn't even know if he'd been home from the Navy long enough to hear about me having a baby. I assumed he hadn't or he would've never called me in the first place. As I watched my baby sleeping, I thought, "If he does call me again, I'll tell him and that'll be the end of that." Not only could I not imagine a guy who was raised in a Christian home with strong morals being seriously interested in an unwed mother who had disgraced her family and whose future was completely up in the air, but I also would not allow myself to even consider that he would still be interested if he knew about the mess I'd made of my life. I had to protect myself from being hurt again and I was just going to nip it in the bud before it had a chance to go any further. I was convinced that once he found out about my baby, I wouldn't have to worry about that anymore anyway: It would end before it ever started.
The next afternoon while I was at work, Buddy came by to see me. My heart dropped. I was beginning to like him and I knew nothing could ever come of it and I had to end it right then. Buddy was in-between his two jobs at Soundcraft and Kroger and said he'd just wanted to pop in and see me for a minute. I could hardly get a word in edgewise. He was telling me about a bluegrass festival he wanted to take me to the next evening, when I blurted out, "I have a baby!". Well, you could've heard a pin drop . . . . complete quiet for what seemed like 20 minutes. He obviously hadn't heard about this and was caught completely off guard. As I watched Buddy mulling this surprising news over, my nervousness and feeling of heaviness began to transform into acceptance. I was thinking, "This is exactly what I expected and it's okay. I can go back to life as usual before that day in Kroger when I literally ran into Buddy". That way of thinking had become my "comfort zone" and I was ready to dig into that frame of mind again, once and for all.
After an eternity of silence, Buddy looked at me and said, "Boy or girl?" I was thinking, "This I can talk about, my baby girl. We can have a little conversation about her and I'll help him bow out of this gracefully without making him feel like a jerk".
We talked about my little Kristi and I told him how she'd just had her first birthday. We'd talk a minute and then Buddy would start thinking again . . . . quietly pondering things over. I told him I appreciated him coming by, but I really had to get back to work and thanks again for the movie the night before. I was thinking, "It should be easy now for him to make a quick exit and get out of this obviously awkward situation". But, as I turned to go back into the office, he said, "Hey, wait a minute . . . . when can I meet Kristi?" I can still see him standing there, looking at me with those puppy dog eyes and that big ole grin on his face. And that was the moment my broken heart began to mend. I knew I had to let go of the past and not judge every guy by the selfishness of one. I didn't know where this path would lead, but I couldn't keep shutting myself off from the world like I'd been doing. I had a feeling there was something different about Buddy Martin, and I had to give him the benefit of the doubt or I might regret it for the rest of my life.
That very next day, Buddy was to meet Kristi. I was thinking, "This will be the ultimate test, how he and Kristi react to one another". Buddy walked in and I introduced him to Kristi. I have to admit, I was pretty nervous. I knew this had to be very awkward for him, but he didn't seem to be uncomfortable at all. And what happened next mended another huge part of my heart . . . . Kristi actually threw up her little arms wanting Buddy to pick her up! It was as if she'd known him from the beginning. He wasn't a stranger to her at all. It was unbelievable and I couldn't hold my tears back. I was thinking, "What just happened?" Buddy stayed for hours and played with Kristi. They bonded immediately. I remember watching them together and sometimes they would just stare at each other, with expressions of adoration on both their faces. I remember thinking, "What's going to be the outcome of this?"
We were inseparable from that day forward. A few months fled by. It became apparent to me that Buddy's family had great affection for Kristi as well. Buddy's dad and Kristi had a strong bond very quickly. He adored her and she obviously loved him. Mr. Martin put another patch on my heart the first time he referred to himself as "Kristi's Pappa". I remember thinking, "I don't know how this chapter in my life is going to end, but I'll always love this Martin family!"
On a sunny day in September, Buddy and I were watching Kristi play in her sandbox. He was unusually quiet. I felt the feelings of insecurity try to creep back in. I was just about to pull out my mask of strength and independence that I had hidden away a couple of months previously, when Buddy looked at me very seriously . . . . this time without the big grin. I was thinking, "Oh boy, here we go. Where'd his smile go? . . . He's always smiling . . . This can't be good. Time to toughen up and take the blow." He said, "You know, Kristi needs a daddy". This caught me by surprise and I said, in a defensive tone, "Welllll, a daddy for Kristi would be nice, but why would you say something like that?" I had my guard back up and I was ready for anything he was going to dish out. I was thinking, "He's probably heard the gossip from the busy bodies in the area who have nothing better to do than make up more outlandish rumors about the latest community scandal (me) and he's deciding to back off from this soap opera that is my life". I was preparing to conjure up the "tough / who needs you" attitude, when these words came out of Buddy's mouth: "I want to be her dad". . . . .
. . . . . . complete silence for a couple of minutes. I was thinking, "Huh?" So .... I said, "Huh????" He looked at me and stood up. I looked at him and I stood up. He looked at Kristi. I looked at Kristi. We looked at each other and I saw he had tears in his eyes. He took my hands in his and said, "I love you. I love Kristi. I want to marry you and be Kristi's dad". At that second, my heart was whole again. At that second, I began completely trusting again. At that second, I was thinking, "Is this really real?". I could not believe my ears and I think I was probably in a bit of shock. We had previously expressed that we cared about one another, but I hadn't dared allow myself to even consider the thought of marriage. I was completely swept off my feet by this sweet, heartfelt, warm proposal. Through my tears, I replied, "You'll be an awesome daddy to Kristi".
On November 10, 1979, I married the best friend I'd ever had. We stood before friends and family and made a vow to each other to love, honor, and cherish one another, in good times and bad, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. I'm not going to try to paint a picture of a perfect marriage. Ours has not been perfect by any stretch of the imagination. We've had lots of ups and downs over the past 31 years. We both had lots of adjustments to make, especially those first few years. We've both made mistakes. We are both very headstrong and can be extremely stubborn. We both had to learn to make compromises in lots of areas. He still drives me absolutely crazy sometimes when we disagree, and I'm sure he'd say the same thing about me. We've had some really frustrating arguments and there have been times I just wanted to throw up my hands. But, when it's all said and done, I always knew that God put us together and there's no one else in this world I'd rather have by my side.
To summarize, I'll just put it this way:
What was I thinking when Buddy placed this gold ring on my finger 31 years ago? I was thinking, "What did I ever do to deserve a man like this? Thank you Jesus. Thank you Jesus. Thank you Jesus".
What am I thinking now, 31 years later? I'm thinking, "What did I ever do to deserve such a devoted, caring, hardworking, dedicated husband. Why did God bless me by sending Buddy my way and giving us two more awesome kids on top of that!?"
This I know: Buddy Martin has been my "knight in shining armor" for the past 31 years. Maybe that sounds "corny" to some people and that's okay. It might be a little corny, but it's exactly how I feel. That day in Kroger when he first started flirting with me and asked me if he could call me, I thought I caught a gleam of sincerity in his beautiful brown eyes. I'm so glad something deep in my heart let me know I should take a chance. Buddy has stood by my side, unflinchingly, for all these years. He has been my protector, my defender, my most trusted confidant, my encourager, my friend. So, no matter how corny it may sound, I'm going to keep saying it! When I look at Buddy Martin, I see a strong, handsome prince on a white horse who I know, without a doubt, will always be here for me and our family.
I've made the mistake of taking my Buddy for granted at times, but I always recall how it was before Buddy was in my life and how much he shows his love for me and for our family on a daily basis . . . . and I ask myself, "Seriously, what am I thinking?"
Susan Trafford Martin
November 4, 2010
Monday, November 1, 2010
The Life of Bread
"The Life of Bread"
On this cool autumn morning, as the coffee was brewing and filling the kitchen with my favorite aroma, I decided a slice of buttered toast with strawberry jam would be quite tasty. I had the jam, I had the butter. I just needed bread. My mouth was already watering in anticipation of this sweet treat, such a welcome change from my usual granola bar. I found part of a loaf of bread tucked away behind the cereal boxes in the cabinet. When I opened the bag and looked inside, what I saw didn't resemble anything edible. It looked like a green and black fuzzy creature that could sprout legs and run at any second. So much for the toast and jam idea - another granola bar morning for me.
Such is the life of bread. It sure tastes good . . . when it's fresh. It's very satisfying and very filling . . . for a little while, but you eventually get hungry again and want more. However, a diet that consists of bread alone 24/7 very quickly becomes very unsatisfying and loses its appeal. After a daily diet of bread for awhile, you'd become pretty bored with this one food to satisfy your palate. If you keep it around for too long, it becomes green and moldy and disgusting. What used to taste so good to you no longer gives you pleasure. So, you search for another food to tickle your taste buds. You indulge in that food for awhile, consuming it 24/7, and it too becomes insatiable and uninteresting. The pattern continues. You move from one food to another, searching for palatable pleasure.
There are so many people who are searching for the "perfect food" to satiate their emotional, physical, mental, and spiritual desires. However, most are looking in the wrong places and continually end up feeling empty and dissatisfied. Their quest for pleasure usually begins in a seemingly harmless manner: a teenager attending a party and having his first cigarette or alcoholic drink; a married woman having a private lunch with her male coworker to discuss his marital problems; a man at his computer deciding to take a quick peak at the pop-up ad simply out of "curiosity"; a mom feeling overwhelmed with the demands of her daily routine and accepting an invitation to a nightclub with friends to "unwind"; a young lady deciding to go "just a little bit further" in her relationship with her boyfriend. The list could go on and on . . .
These ingredients are all just the beginnings of very messy recipes for unsavory lives of staleness and bitterness and dissatisfaction. Just as one spore of mold can cover an entire loaf of bread in only three days, sin can quickly get completely out of hand and consume a person before they realize what has happened. One experimental course is never enough. There's always a need for something more tangy or more tart to satisfy your desensitized senses. Just a hint of this, a smidgen of that, a pinch here, a sprinkle there - Making your own recipe for life will ultimately result in slop not fit for human consumption.
If you're experiencing an insatiable appetite for pleasure and worldly "stuff" but can never feel satisfied with what the world has to offer, I want to introduce you to the Bread of Life - the exact opposite of the "life of bread". Jesus Christ refers to Himself as the Bread of Life many times in the Bible. He has promised that whoever eats of this Bread will live forever. If you'll just ask Him, He'll come into your heart and become a part of you, providing continuous nourishment and satisfaction for your mind, soul, and body.
The "life of bread" is a very unhealthy, insufficient, short-lived, and frustrating existence, always leaving you hungry and unsatisfied. The Bread of Life provides complete satisfaction, in this life and the next, and will sustain you with fulfillment in all aspects of your life. All you have to do is ask to be fed. There's an ample supply!
Susan Martin
November 1, 2010
On this cool autumn morning, as the coffee was brewing and filling the kitchen with my favorite aroma, I decided a slice of buttered toast with strawberry jam would be quite tasty. I had the jam, I had the butter. I just needed bread. My mouth was already watering in anticipation of this sweet treat, such a welcome change from my usual granola bar. I found part of a loaf of bread tucked away behind the cereal boxes in the cabinet. When I opened the bag and looked inside, what I saw didn't resemble anything edible. It looked like a green and black fuzzy creature that could sprout legs and run at any second. So much for the toast and jam idea - another granola bar morning for me.
Such is the life of bread. It sure tastes good . . . when it's fresh. It's very satisfying and very filling . . . for a little while, but you eventually get hungry again and want more. However, a diet that consists of bread alone 24/7 very quickly becomes very unsatisfying and loses its appeal. After a daily diet of bread for awhile, you'd become pretty bored with this one food to satisfy your palate. If you keep it around for too long, it becomes green and moldy and disgusting. What used to taste so good to you no longer gives you pleasure. So, you search for another food to tickle your taste buds. You indulge in that food for awhile, consuming it 24/7, and it too becomes insatiable and uninteresting. The pattern continues. You move from one food to another, searching for palatable pleasure.
There are so many people who are searching for the "perfect food" to satiate their emotional, physical, mental, and spiritual desires. However, most are looking in the wrong places and continually end up feeling empty and dissatisfied. Their quest for pleasure usually begins in a seemingly harmless manner: a teenager attending a party and having his first cigarette or alcoholic drink; a married woman having a private lunch with her male coworker to discuss his marital problems; a man at his computer deciding to take a quick peak at the pop-up ad simply out of "curiosity"; a mom feeling overwhelmed with the demands of her daily routine and accepting an invitation to a nightclub with friends to "unwind"; a young lady deciding to go "just a little bit further" in her relationship with her boyfriend. The list could go on and on . . .
These ingredients are all just the beginnings of very messy recipes for unsavory lives of staleness and bitterness and dissatisfaction. Just as one spore of mold can cover an entire loaf of bread in only three days, sin can quickly get completely out of hand and consume a person before they realize what has happened. One experimental course is never enough. There's always a need for something more tangy or more tart to satisfy your desensitized senses. Just a hint of this, a smidgen of that, a pinch here, a sprinkle there - Making your own recipe for life will ultimately result in slop not fit for human consumption.
If you're experiencing an insatiable appetite for pleasure and worldly "stuff" but can never feel satisfied with what the world has to offer, I want to introduce you to the Bread of Life - the exact opposite of the "life of bread". Jesus Christ refers to Himself as the Bread of Life many times in the Bible. He has promised that whoever eats of this Bread will live forever. If you'll just ask Him, He'll come into your heart and become a part of you, providing continuous nourishment and satisfaction for your mind, soul, and body.
The "life of bread" is a very unhealthy, insufficient, short-lived, and frustrating existence, always leaving you hungry and unsatisfied. The Bread of Life provides complete satisfaction, in this life and the next, and will sustain you with fulfillment in all aspects of your life. All you have to do is ask to be fed. There's an ample supply!
Susan Martin
November 1, 2010
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)