God-Bumps

Just keep going!

I get God-bumps every time my friend Rachael tells me about the miracle in her son Javin's life.

Thirteen years ago, Javin was born deaf.

Rachael, a single mom, first noticed that something was wrong with her baby when he was an infant. Very wrong.

Medical and hearing tests by various specialists at two months and four months confirmed that Javin had no hearing in either ear. Zero. The results were well documented: profound hearing loss.

After many hot tears, Rachael finally accepted her son's handicap, took a shaky breath and began learning to use sign language. The wee fella picked it up quickly and by the time he was nine-months-old, was fluent in over 100 signs. He was a happy little guy and was functioning well. Rachael began looking at special schools and programs for the deaf.

Then something incredible happened.

The day before Javin was scheduled with an audiologist to see if he was a candidate for a cochlear implant, Rachael felt compelled to ask her pastor to pray for Javin.

This was a mainline denomination, mind you, and a regular, run-of-the-mill Sunday morning church service. No special "healer" was present, nor did anyone shout, chant, lay hands on Javin or do anything out of the ordinary. Just before dismissing the congregation, the pastor simply called Rachael up front with her baby and asked everyone to remember them and tomorrow's appointment in prayer. Heads nodded all around.

Believers agreed to join in prayer; many expecting nothing, some were hopeful but unconvinced, and a few diehards were confident that prayer is the nerve that moves the hand of God.

"Lord, please help Javin." Short. Simple, To the point. Just like you and I have prayed for people a hundred times in our own churches and Bible studies, hoping against hope that Papa God will respond.

So it shouldn't really have been to anyone's astonishment that He did.

The next day, after repeating tests for hours, the stunned audiologist pronounced, "His hearing is perfect."

Rachael wept tears of joy. And thirteen years later, her boy still hears the cry of a hawk, the crack of a baseball bat, and the sweet sound of his mother humming in the kitchen. I call that a major grace note.

So BBFF (Blessed Blog Friend Forever), what gives you God-bumps?






 

Multitasking Master

The other day in my backyard I was wiping sweat out of my eyes, a filthy hand spade in one hand and muddy phone in the other, as I simultaneously weeded my garden and participated in a live computer program tutorial.

Everything was just peachy until a dadgum bee decided my face resembled a chrysanthemum and stung the bejeebies out of my nose. Fire in the hole!

For some reason, the guy on the other end of the line (my tutor) seemed surprised when I called him back after retrieving the phone I'd flung into the shrubbery as I fled into the house, screeching, in a crazed search for Benadryl and a cold compress.

Why on God's green earth had I ever attempted to do all those things at once, he pondered aloud.

Didn't I know how much more efficient I could be if I systematically tackled one task at a time, he queried in a low, calm voice.

Wouldn't I be interested in his excellent tutorial on time management, he wondered. Listen, bub, why don't you blow it out your kazoo, I wondered back. Have you ever tried making dinner, shaving your legs and feeding the dog at the same time? Has your baby ever spit up all over your church dress as you were herding three stray people into the ninety-degree car while scarfing down your cold, hard Pop-tart? Do you know what it's like to plan a dinner party for 12 of your husband's co-workers while scheduling Junior's dentist appointment and trying frantically to get to your own job on time?

Well, women do it every day.

I'll bet we could teach YOU a few things about time management, Sparky.

Okay, rant's done. No, I didn't say any of it out loud but Lordy I was tempted! Pretending to be nice is such a burden.

Yes, I'd go so far as to say that 80% of women are Multitasking Masters. Black belts. Make that black sequin belts with silver buckles and matching heels.

We're experts out of necessity, not because we like going in forty directions at once. We do what we have to do to keep our families, our homes, our jobs, and ourselves running smoothly.

And I've got the bulbous red nose to prove it!

What do you think, girls? Post a comment below and tell me about your personal training regime for your multitasking black belt.

Sizzling Summer Give-Away

Just released

It's summer and look what's Hot Hot HOT off the press!

My brand new Too Blessed to be Stressed 2017 Planners have just exploded onto the scene and they're cuter than ever! Want a Free one? Read on ...

These purse-perfect planners feature month-at-a-glance calendar pages + nice large individual day spaces + more of the inspirational verses and Deb Coty book excerpts you told me you loved in the 2014, 2015 and 2016 Planners.

I have a feeling these hot lil' tomales are gonna disappear fast (my publisher completely sold out before December the last two years) so order yours early.

To give you a jump start, I'm gonna GIVE AWAY 5 Too Blessed to be Stressed 2017 Planners in a random drawing on August 26, which also happens to be my 38th wedding anniversary. We can celebrate together!

Just drop me a line to count you in or comment on this post and you'll be entered in the drawing.
And guess what else? For one too blessed grand prize winner, I'll add a bookshelf-melting, oh-so-fun Too Blessed to be Stressed Coloring Book ... 

PLUS my sizzling new Too Blessed to be Stressed: 3 Minute Devotions for Women ...

PLUS a hefty fistful of my ultra fave choco-treats (actually I'll send a whole package but it suddenly seemed fitting to reference another of my book titles, Fear, Faith, and a Fistful of Chocolate). Hey, I'll even throw one of those in too!

 

Winners will be announced right here and remember, it's up to you to contact me to receive your prize (I need to know where to send your loot!).

So you won't forget to check and miss out on your prize, be sure you've subscribed today (so stinkin' easy to do - the box is on the right of this screen!)

Hope you win, my Hot Hot HOT BBFF!!! 

Hard to Swallow

Tree swallow in flight

Last week while staying with friends at their beautiful Alabama lake house, I felt my way in the 5 a.m.darkness onto their dock to try to snag a picture of the sunrise.

I'd already missed it that week. Twice. I wasn't about to miss it again.

So I got out there early, granola bar in hand, camera ready, and waited. Patiently at first. Then ... not so much.

Surprise, Deb. The summer sunrise isn't until 5:48. Aargh.

So I grumped around a bit, complained to the fish, argued with the turtles, did a few angry calisthenics and paced the dock. Oh well, at least I could drink in the early morning peace and quiet as the sky gradually lightened.

Suddenly an incessant screeching noise assaulted the silence. I could barely see a black dot in the sky, but there it was off toward the east, circling high over the water. It just kept circling round and round and round for the longest time, squawking constantly. I had nothing else to do but ponder: What was this crazy bird doing? Who was it shrieking to? What was it trying to accomplish?

A swallow doin' my thang

It wasn't fishing or even scoping out breakfast - it flew way too high for that. It's actions seemed to me to be completely illogical and totally unproductive.

I decided it had to be a girl bird because she was acting an awful lot like me: going around in circles for no apparent reason, getting nowhere, complaining the entire time.

I could tell by her cry she was a swallow, but I'd never seen one so persistent. Or quite so verbal. That silly bird kept it up - circling and screeching - for the next 20 minutes. Then as if to make sure I'd had all I could stand, she moved directly over my head and continued for another 20. I took a video clip and will try to add it here, but I can't promise it'll play.

STOP already!

Why on earth wouldn't she change her game plan, her redundant route, or at least shut her beak?
   
When I finally got so annoyed I could spit, it hit me: Hey, that's me up there. Papa God's showing me a mirror of my worst self: going around and around in circles, getting nowhere, complaining the entire time.

I had to laugh. It was so true.

How so like Him to use his marvelous creation to point out - in a gentle, palatable way - something I really need to work on. My complaining. My grousing. My squawking.

So okay. I get it. That's my next goal. To become less of a grouse and not so hard to swallow. And I don't mean the feathered kind.