Take a look at this…
That’s sad if you ask me. The “mom” looks like she’s in pretty good condition to me and yet, off to the rest home she goes. Now I don’t know the circumstances and this is certainly potentially a “paid advertisement” of some sort, yet it just bothers me that this is what it seems to have come to in our country. Used to people took care of family through thick and thin. Not any more. They’ll just stick them in “Heritage Woods.”
What do we do with God’s Word on this?
4 But if a widow has children or grandchildren, let them first learn to show godliness to their own household and to make some return to their parents, for this is pleasing in the sight of God. 5 She who is truly a widow, left all alone, has set her hope on God and continues in supplications and prayers night and day, 6 but she who is self-indulgent is dead even while she lives. 7 Command these things as well, so that they may be without reproach. 8 But if anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever. 1 Timothy 5:4-8
Again, please don’t send me hate mail on this. I know there are extenuating circumstances for people and every situation is different, yet I can tell you this…my parents nor my wife’s parents are going to be placed in any home as long we Kevin and Pam Brown have anything to do with it. Do you know what people did in 1920 or 1840 or 1760? They took care of aging parents…period. There was nothing else to do. And the truth is there should be nothing else we want to do but to return to them (our parents) the kindness they showed to us in raising us (even when it was inconvenient).
Speaking of parents and children. I must tell you that my daughter is a MUCH better writer than I am. She continues to work on her book. She’s about 30,000 words into it and is making good progress. Here’s her latest blog post about “Where Is Home.” It will bless your heart…
Where is Home?
I am home. Home as in Havelock, North Carolina. Yet, as I sat on my bottom bunk bed in the mission house in Weslaco, Texas at this time last week I missed “home.” In previous years of being on the mission trip to Texas I have always missed my home in Wilkes County, North Carolina. But that isn’t “home” anymore. As I sat there with my journal in my lap, I questioned where home is. Though I missed my little home here on base in Cherry Point, it is still hard to call this home. Does that sound bad? It’s just the truth. Though I was loving every moment of the trip, one’s heart is automatically drawn to miss home sometimes. But for the first time ever, I struggled to determine where home really is. I put away my journal and left to get back to work, and to ponder my question. Through the week it grated on me.
Tears burned in my eyes at random times as my heart was asking this seemingly odd question.
Where is home?
On Wednesday night at the Bible school in Weslaco, I saw a few girls sitting alone at the back of the group. There was one on her phone while the others clamored around her. My heart was drawn to those girls. I noticed that they talked through the whole lesson. They couldn’t have cared less. They rolled their eyes whenever the group was asked a question. They were a tough bunch. No two ways about it.
Katy, talk to them. I don’t hear God’s voice at the drop of a hat. Sometimes I even forget what He sounds like… but when He talks to me. I know. And it was Him.
I sat on the grimy pavement and felt my neck get hot. Tough assignment I was given. After the lesson was over I talked with them. I told them of God’s love, but reminded them of a place called Hell. I told them that they would have to go to Hell if they don’t ask Jesus to save them. One of the girls leaned forward and asked a sobering question, “What is Hell like?” I told her that it is darkness, pain, separation from God and never-ending hopelessness. They brushed me off. I asked them to think about what I had said.
I cried all the way back to the mission house. I have felt a burden for people before, but this time it hit me. It hit me that I put all of my trust in this man… this God named Jesus. He has been my everything and these girls have to have Him too. I remember being their age and God has brought me from that time to now. He alone has sustained me.
They had to know. They had to understand.
|You can see me on the far right side talking to the girls.
I prayed for a solid day. Every few moments, their faces came to my mind and I begged God to save them. To open their hearts. To give me one last chance to talk to them.
He did. Thursday was the last night at the school in Weslaco. After a sermonette and some praise music, the team served hot dogs to the kids. The girls didn’t want to eat and so they passingly told me that they were leaving and would be back in a little while.
My feeble mind proclaimed that it was over; they would not be back. It was all over their faces.
But they came back and I rushed to their side. They ate the food in a tight, clickish circle away from the rest of the kids. I joined. I chatted with them to let them warm up and then I asked if they had thought about what I had said the night before. “Lea has!” said the girl I had learned was, Itzel. I looked at Lea. The pretty girl’s face was unmistakable. Conviction. She wanted to know more. I felt a knowing that this girl needed my undivided attention. I pulled her aside and after a few moments of sharing our hearts and Scripture she couldn’t wait anymore.
She bowed her head. The unusually cold breeze sent chills down my spine as she prayed. Her sweet voice asked for forgiveness and salvation.
Our eyes met when she said “amen.”
Her face. Her face was the answer to all of my questions. Where I least expected the answer, I received it. Her teary eyes, flushed cheeks and brilliant smile read one word.
This girl’s fight was over. She had her ticket to home.
As I hugged her I let the answer to my broken-hearted question sink in.
This isn’t home. No where I ever go will ever really be home. I will always miss something. I will miss Josh if he leaves for months at a time. I miss sitting in my family’s living room talking about the Bible. I miss the best church in the world called Mt. Pleasant Baptist. I will miss sweet Lea. I will always long for us all to be together.
You miss your friend or family member whose smile you will never see on this earth again. You miss things that lack of money has taken. You miss your child, your mother, your home, your country, your old life.
You too will not find home here.
Home is Heaven.
Until Heaven, we can find peace in the “little heavens” here on earth. For me, times in Texas and Mexico when we were all together… friends and family… that was a lot like heaven. Hugging my sister, Clara while I am in Wilkes County… that is a lot like heaven. Snuggled up on my couch with my Bible here in Havelock… that too is a lot like heaven.
Though my heart aches sometimes and I know yours does too, we can be like Lea was the moment she found freedom. We can know that this isn’t home.
Home is coming. And it will not disappoint.
Tell me this isn’t the cutest boy you’ve ever seen…
And that’s the best barber in the world! We sure do love Jerry Hudler! He runs “Hud’s Barber Shop” in town and he serves in our church as the head of our Food and Fellowship Committee. He and his crew prepare delicious meals every Wednesday night for the church! We sure love you Brother Hud!! And Andrew says, “I try not to laugh and smile when he trims my neck, but it sure does tickle!”