The Lamp

This lamp came to my house via my Moms house. As we were walking through her monstrous house and trying to decide what she wanted to keep or donate, we came upon this lamp. She pointed and said, “That’s going to the donate pile.”

I said, “Mom, that’s a great lamp. You’re not keeping it?”

To which she replied, “Honey, it’s been sitting on top of the file cabinet all these years. I really don’t know where it came from.”

I didn’t hesitate to say, “Well, if you’re not keeping it, I’ll take it.”

It took about three weeks from that point to sneak it in my car and bring it home. Why did I sneak it in my car? Because I knew better than to tell Terry I was bringing home another one. He would notice anyway. He always notices.

Before choosing its spot, I left it in the garage. As afore mentioned, Terry noticed. I swear. He’s got hawk eyes. I didn’t try to hide it. I just didn’t have it blatantly obvious. He waltzes in the great room and announces, “I see you’ve brought another lamp home. I’m guessing you brought that from your Mama’s. Where are you going to put it? Every room in this house has at least two lamp i don’t know why you’d need another one. We have plenty of lights.”

By the time he finished his speech, I was already moving lamps around and bringing this one in. I found its perfect spot. Once in place, I turned to him and said, “See! It fits perfectly here.”

He agreed and then said, ” It really is a cool looking lamp. I like it.”

To be honest, I wasn’t surprised by his response. We then to have similar taste in furnishings.

At that point, I explained how the lamp begged me to bring it home.

When I first looked at the lamp it reminded me of the following, “You anoint my head with oil, my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever”. Psalm 23:5b-6. As I moved my hands from the top of the base to the bottom, it was as if the Word of God came alive in my hands.

As I finished my spiel, he looked at me and said, “I see it too.” It’s a good thing ’cause the lamp was not going anywhere. It serves as a good reminder to me that I am announced, shielded and protected for all the rest of my days. What a great reminder to have right in front of me every day.

Halloween Shenanigans

A few years ago I decided to make a confession. My confession went something like this.

When the children were young and going trick or treating, our rule for candy was as follows: no eating candy until we got home and checked it. Then, we would generally allow them one or two pieces before bed. All the while, telling them it was for their protection. To some degree that was truth; however, it was more because Terry and I wanted to take out our faves and keep them for ourselves.

To be honest, one of my favorite times of the year was Halloween. Not only did our kiddos look forward with great anticipation, Terry and I enjoyed dressing them up and taking them to gather candy. In fact, some of our fondest and funniest memories are Halloween memories.

The one we talk about the most is this particular Halloween pictured below

Matthew’s costume was a vampire. It wasn’t a total epic fail but obviously my bother, the makeup artist, wasn’t available to get the makeup just so-so. There was no Pinterest, not that it would’ve made a difference.

Before going to the Pumpkin Patch, Terry decided we should just let them stroll through our neighborhood. So we loaded Alex in the stroller and began walking. Ryan and Matthew got a little ahead of us. The road ahead was steep, and boys will be boys. They move full speed ahead. Terry suddenly burst into laughter. Between laughs he said ” I didn’t realize we were taking James Brown trick or treating. Look at the back of Matthews wig. He looks just like James Brown running down the street.”

For years we’ve howled over that night.

I think our most memorable Halloween, for me, was our first one. We took Ryan and Matthew to Pumpkin Patch. Afterwards Terry said, ” Those boys need to get more candy. They’ve never been trick or treating, have they?”

We drove over to Druid Hills, an Historical District, in Hendersonville. The rain had subsided leaving behind piles of wet leaves. Terry decided it would be a good idea to let me and the boys out, while he followed behind at a slow pace. Ryan, being the candy fiend he is, darted off from house to house. Matthew’s little legs trying to keep up. When suddenly, Matthew, sporting a firemen’s outfit that year, ran right out of his boots and kept trucking. Leaving me behind to locate his shoes in the wet leaves. All the while, Terry following from inside the warm truck, laughing hysterically at the sight before his eyes.

I knew then and still know now that life with Terry will always be an adventure. It will always be a life filled with laughter and a life filled with special memories.

Broken and Useful

Interestingly I happened upon a PBS show Eugenics Crusade. Eugenics became popular in the United States as well as other countries because of its promise to improve the human race. However, popularity waned when Hitler perverted eugenics during World War II to form his “perfect society”.

After watching the show, I conversed with my friend, Tima, about the whole idea of eugenics. During the course of our conversation we discussed the magnitude of how much can be learned by those society deems invaluable, in particularly those with severe mental handicaps.

Have you ever been around adults or children with severe mental handicaps? How do you feel around them? Do they make you cringe? Do you feel an awkwardness because they’re not like you? Are they detestable and insignificant to you?

For years, I feared those with handicaps. Let me explain. When I was young my Caregiver had neighbors who had a handicapped son. He had cerebral palsy. He was wheelchair bound, he didn’t speak, moaned and drooled. He could sit upright and had use of his hands. One time, I got close to wheelchair and he lunged at me. Scared the life out of me. His sweet mother explained he was just trying to give me a hug. This whole thing was foreign to me and as a result I avoided children and adults who had handicaps.

Fast forward about 20 years and I met this couple, Steve and Lynn Easler. They were my Sunday School teachers. We had a Christmas party and they invited me to come ride with them. At that time, I didn’t know a lot about them. When I arrived at their house, the introduced me to their three biological children and then to Jared, their first special needs adopted son. Jared had physical disabilities, not mental, his hands and feet were clubbed. On the way to the party they shared with me their desire to adopt “special needs” children. Little did I know, at the time, that I would have the privilege of watching God gift them with a multitude of children.

However. it was the adoption of their third child that God would show me how absurdly wrong my thinking was about “special needs” children. Julia, now in her late twenties, was born with Cerebral Palsy. Her life itself is a miracle. Trust me. When Lynn and Steve brought her home, we gathered and prayed over her. At the time, they didn’t know how severe she really was. Julia, by the world view, is nothing more than a “vegetable”, if you will. She requires full time care and can do nothing on her own. She even has a feeding tube. Yet the joy this child has brought to those of us who know her is unexplainable. The way she turns he head at the sound of Lynn and Steve’s voices. The way she looks at them. The tenderness and care they administer to her. She is a gift. It’s truly a beautiful thing as well as humbling. You see, God pours himself into her brokenness and makes her a thing of beauty to all who know her.

Our desire is for perfection. Now, we’re working harder and harder to achieve what we deem perfect. Social media gives us a boost, too, because it’s easier to portray the perfect image. Heck, now there’s even an app to make your body look better. Our desire for perfection keeps us from being honest with ourselves and others when we are broken.

Perfection to most is something that is unbroken, no holes, no blemishes, flawless. However, let me explain something about God’s view of perfection. He takes that which is broken and seemingly useless and He makes it useful and highly valuable. Our problem is that we want to hide or rid ourselves of our flaws. Do you realize that He wants to work through them? God wants to use our brokenness, our blemishes and holes to pour out more of himself . He takes our uselessness and makes it useful for his glory.

As I was sitting here writing this song came to mind.

Bill Gaither – Something Beautiful Lyrics

Something beautiful, something good
All my confusion He understood
All I had to offer Him was brokenness and strife
But he made something beautiful of my lifeIf there ever were dreams
That were lofty and noble
They were my dreams at the start
And hope for life’s best were the hopes
That I harbor down deep in my heart
But my dreams turned to ashes
And my castles all crumbled, my fortune turned to loss
So I wrapped it all in the rags of life
And laid it at the cross

Where Hope is Found

On Saturday we celebrated Popaw’s 92nd birthday. Due to an early morning fall and trip to the ER, nothing serious, our plans changed from going to Moms to celebrating in his room at The Bridge. (The assisted living facility where he resides.)

As I rounded the hallway towards his room, a flashback filled my mind’s eye and suddenly it was last year, Friday, October 13, 2017.

Ned had been transferred from the The Lodge to The Bridge. His room, not by chance, was directly across the hall from Popaw’s. It was his first day there.

I was scheduled to meet him and Mom back at the hospital for an echocardiogram. I was there 15 minutes early. I sat down and waited. Surprised by the fact they weren’t there, cause Ned is never late. Always early. Never late. I hemmed and hawed a few more minutes before calling Mom. She didn’t answer. So the next best thing, call Ned.

“Hey, are y’all on the way to the hospital?”

“No. Your Mom’s gone to Walmart. I bet she forgot.”

I put him on hold, Talked to the receptionist, explained the situation. Told her I’d go get him and bring him back, She assured me time was not of the essence and not to rush to get him back.

Got back on the phone with Ned and told him I’d be there in a few minutes.

Don’t you just hate it when they tell you not to rush and you rush anyway. I mean he was already late and I hate to hold people up. I wheeled my car into the parking lot at The Bridge. Briefly I thought of leaving my vehicle unattended under the breezeway but decided to park instead. Good thing I did.

To be honest, I was half expecting to see Ned in the downstairs lounge area waiting for me. Simply because I had told him to stay put in his room and I’d come get him. He wasn’t there. Hopped on the elevator and went to the 2nd floor. As I rounded the corner, I noticed that his door was slightly ajar. I walked in and he wasn’t there. His walker was there…..but no Ned. I peeped in Popaw’s room and he wasn’t there. So, I began my descent down the hallway and thats when I saw him. He was staggering and holding on to the railing with one hand. It was apparent he had no idea where he was. He saw me and said “I was trying to get to the elevator to find you”. Yeppers, he didn’t listen. He didn’t stay in his room and if he’d been more familiar with his surroundings would most likely have been waiting for me.

He was so weak he could barely walk. I gave him my arm and told him to keep using the rail with the other hand. We made it back to his room. Exhausted, he sat down in his wheelchair. I told him we didn’t have to rush to take his time. He began complaining of nausea. Vomiting and nausea were his latest symptoms. He stood to grab hold of the walker and suddenly hurled everything in his stomach into the sink. He sat back down. I finished cleaning the portion of the mess he couldn’t clean. Then I told him I was calling to cancel his appointment. He agreed.

We continued to sit there for a spell before he got sick again. After the next episode, he looked at me with tears in his eyes and said, “Can’t someone tell me what’s wrong with me?”

I have to admit. I almost broke. I couldn’t break, not in front of him. It took every ounce of effort and will in me not to burst into tears. The past seven weeks had been such a roller coaster for all of us, especially for him. He’d been poked, prodded, X-rayed, and examined more times than I can count.

I looked at him and said “I am doing all I can to help the doctors figure out what’s going on. I’m trying the best I know how.”

At that moment, we both knew it was the cancer invading his body. We knew it wasn’t going to get better but as long as the doctors gave us a shred of hope, we clung to it. It was all we had.

As it turned out, his stay at The Bridge was short lived. He was there two nights. They couldn’t control his nausea and vomiting and had no choice but send him back to the hospital.

As I’ve reflected on this day, I am reminded that Ned was never without hope. Although there were times when the cancer and side effects from the drugs, looked bleak, hope was always present. There was hope for the drugs to eradicate the cancer. There was hope when the cancer went dormant for awhile. There was hope when the cancer returned that it was still treatable. Even when the new drugs failed to deliver and his problems surmounted, he still had the hope of eternal life with Christ because of his decision to place his faith in Christ. It’s the same with all of us who believe. Our lives may feel like they’re falling apart but Jesus is the hope of the world. He is the reason we can have hope to face another minute, another hour, another day. It is only this hope that assures us of our eternal destination.

Dear friends, if today finds you without hope and in what seems a hopeless situation, turn to Jesus. He is your only hope.

A Tiny Pinhole

The tiniest pinhole can wreak havoc. Fortunately, the damage, not severe or too costly, was relatively an easy fix. However, if I’d driven my car much further the damage could have been irreversible and very costly.

Several weeks ago, I was driving home. It was around 9:00. I stopped by to chat with a for a few minutes before heading down the mountain. On the way home, I returned the phone call of another friend and was chatting with her. As I neared the Columbus exit, I heard an odd sound. At first, I ignored it because Terry frequently tells me “You hear car noises which have no relevance to issues. You dream up noises” Surprise. Surprise. Continuing my phone conversation, the noise happened again only louder. Oh, it was definitely my car. I didn’t panic. Which is all together surprising. I kept driving and talking. As I drove up the Landrum exit, the noise became louder. Then I smelled oil burning. I didn’t have far to go and prayed as I turned off the exit ramp, “God, please get me home.” I was also grateful to be on the phone with someone……just in case.

I made it. Pulled safely into the garage, saw smoke, smelled the burn and lifted the hood. All the while, chatting with my friend, who was totally oblivious because I never told her. I didn’t want to concern her. Besides, I was home.

The next morning, we called and had the car towed. We both knew it wasn’t in a drivable state. In fact, we were concerned the motor has blown. Fortunately, once our mechanic took a good look at it, he said the oil hose had a pinhole puncture which caused the oil to spray and the noise was the pressure that caused the oil lifter kit to explode.. Needless to say, not only was oil saturating the undercarriage, it was heavy and thick on my back window. Gross.

The interesting thing about this was when I asked my mechanic so show me the problem, he pulled out the faulty oil hose and pointed to the pinhole but it was so tiny, I couldn’t see it. Also, he told us that the car has two oil hoses and both were a high density plastic, which is likely the cause of the pinhole. So, he replaced them with metal oil hoses.

Do you know that the schemes of Satan are much like that tiny pinhole? He is crafty and sneaky. He maneuvers and works his way through the tiniest pinhole of weakness he can find in us only to reek havoc. It is his chief goal and desire. John 10:10 (ESV) “The thief (devil) comes only to steal, kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly”. And sometimes, because we are not equipped well to handle his schemes, it’s much easier for him to work through and wreak havoc. However, when we’ve chosen to be fitted with the full armor of God (Eph 6:10-19) we have weapons to defend against his attacks.

Pumpkin carving

There’s a first time for everything. This picture is a clear depiction of just that. Terry and I had been married almost 2 years. Until this particular day, I had been carving pumpkins with my munchkins.

As a matter of fact, my friend Nancy is the one who started this tradition with my boys. A few years earlier, she invited me and the boys to come carve pumpkins and roast pumpkin seeds. Neither of us had a clue what we were doing but we managed. The boys had so much fun, I knew we would do it again.

For the next few years, our pumpkins got a little more creative and elaborate. Mainly because my creative brother and mother were there to help. I am not creative. Let’s face it, my idea of drawing a person is a circle and lots of straight lines for torso and limbs.

Then in 1996, Terry got involved. We bought three pumpkins. One for each boy, of course Alex was too little to know or care. Terry took the boys outside to the porch and began to carve away. Ryan told him to make sure to cut the top off first and then they showed him how to take the guts out and separate the seeds. They loved playing in the slimy mess. Then each one wanted a distinct face carved. Golly, I wish I had pictures. I don’t remember precisely the faces but I remember how proud they were of their hard work.

I love this picture for so many reasons. I’ll restrain and limit myself to a few. Firstly, I see the special bond already existing between Terry and the boys, especially Matthew. The tenderness of him leaning in to kiss Terry shows his appreciation for Terry taking his time to carve pumpkins with them. Next, I love that Terry willingly involved himself in what the boys were doing. He didn’t always expect me to do it. Third, it just proves that Terry isn’t afraid to try anything. In fact, I don’t think there’s anything he can’t do, simply because he believes he can. That’s the way he rolls. One important fact to remember about Terry: he’s the professional at everything he does, at least that’s what he always tell us.

There would be other years of pumpkin carving and roasting pumpkin seeds; however, this was the first time for Terry and the boys.

In the scheme of things it’s the small stuff like this that matters the most. It’s not about the going and the doing. It’s about the being. Being available. Taking time. Being there. Love is always spelled the same way…..TIME. They will remember and so will you. Remember, time is the only thing we can never add to and once it’s gone, it doesn’t come back again.

Young parents, listen to me, the time you invest in your children while they’re young, you will never, never regret. Because all to soon they’re grown and walking out the door. In the famous words of Trace Adkins,

You’re gonna miss this 
You’re gonna want this back 
You’re gonna wish these days hadn’t gone by so fast 
These are some good times

Another baby story…..27 years and counting.

When I began this blog thing, I began on February 12, 2017. The 19th birthday of my youngest child, Amy. Read Here.

Considering I have four children, I have four very different birth stories. And so today, on Matthews 27 birthday, I decided it would be a perfect day to tell another story.

First, I need to set the scene. Hopefully, I’ll find a picture to verify my story but in case I don’t, here goes. I looked as if I’d swallowed a giant watermelon and it sat sideways in my belly. I was huge. So big I could literally sit a plate flat and belly and eat from it. It wasn’t just my belly that was getting huge. About two weeks before Matthew was born, I was retaining fluid in my legs and feet. Most of the fluid was being held in small pockets on my legs. When walking these pockets of water began to rub together, creating tender skin and difficulties walking.

Matthew was due on October 2, 1991. On Friday, September 27, I trudged my way into the Doctors office. Dr. Ellis, concerned about the amount of fluid I was retaining, told me that he would induce me on Monday, September 30, unless I had the baby over the weekend.

The weekend drug on and on, I could barely walk due to the amount of fluid. I was sick and tired of sitting. I was utterly frustrated. On Sunday, I’d had enough. I decided I had to get out and walk. Every step was a struggle but I managed to make several laps around the outside of the house. It felt good just to be outside and not cooped up.

Later in the evening, I decided a bath would be relaxing. I convinced my sister to help me shave my legs because I couldn’t reach over the giant watermelon in front of me. Finally, I felt relaxed. As I was getting out of the tub, my water broke. Until that time, I hadn’t had one contraction. (This was very different that with Ryan).

We scurried about to get on our way to the hospital. We had a 30 minute drive from Columbus to Hendersonville. By the time we arrived, around 11:00 pm, my contractions were regular and coming about every 3 minutes. Baby was definitely on the way.

A little after midnight, September 30, Matthew was born, weighing in at 8lbs 11 oz and 21 1/2″ long. His head circumference was over 14 1/2″. He was my biggest baby. As soon as he came out, water gushed like a flood. Dr. Ellis said he’d never seen so much fluid come out behind a baby. He told us there was at least a gallon, maybe more. Needless to say, my watermelon sized belly was now almost completely flat and poor Dr. Ellis was soaked.

When I think about Matthew’s entrance into the world, It seems like only yesterday. Yet, when I look at my big man boy, and realize the years gone by, I am reminded that his life completely changed my heart forever. God knew exactly what He was doing when He gave me this child. He knew this child would stretch me and grow me in more ways that one. Determined. Strong-willed. A deep thinker. Adventurous. Generous and kind hearted, always putting the needs of others ahead of his own. He truly is one special and unique individual. True to the meaning of this name, a unique and special “gift from God”.

Pure Joy

I found this picture and shared it a few years ago! I call it, “Pure Joy”. In fact, I can’t think of one thing that has ever given Popaw( and Mawmaw) more joy than family, especially the grand and great grandchildren.

There’s a story behind this picture.

At first glance it just appears Popaw and Matthew had been playing on the floor. Actually, that was not the case! In fact, for several days, Matthew had been so sick he could barely hold up his head. I’ve never seen a child hurl (puke) as much as he did. We were fortunate to keep liquids in him for more than 10 minutes. He was pitifully sick.

The boys and I had gone to stay the weekend with Mawmaw and Popaw. Snow was in the forecast but it was March. Besides, if you’ve lived in our neck of the woods, the mountains can breakup or dissuade any would be snow storms. However, it just so happened that is was the Blizzard of ’93! Accurately dubbed the ’93 Superstorm . Here

During the wee hours of the morning, Saturday March 13, I was awakened by a cough, then a gagging noise followed by the sound of rushing liquid pouring from Matthew’s mouth. The bed covered in vomit and him sitting in the middle of it all, crying. Mawmaw heard the commotion and came to help. We got Matthew cleaned up and sheets off the bed and just as things settled, Matthew got sick again, Fortunately, we kept it off his clothes. Unfortunately, he just kept throwing up. I knew the best thing to do was keep him from getting dehydrated. This became quite the chore because with every sip of water or chunk of ice, within minutes the volcano erupted again, and again, and again. We managed.

The snow came with a fury. Heaven had multiple dump trucks filled with the white stuff. Matthew continued to hurl. Fortunately, more time elapsed between episodes and water and ice became our friends. Then it happened, within 36 hours of Matthew being sick, Ryan started. His sickness didn’t have the vengeance of Matthew’s. Now, we had two puny little boys and a pile of snow so deep, we couldn’t dig out if we tried. We were stuck. Inside and out.

As if we, Mawmaw, Popaw and myself, weren’t tired enough from taking care of the boys, the unthinkable happened. They got sick, at the same time. I think they took turns back and forth to the bathroom, where they spent the better part of a day. The good news is the virus only lasted for about 24 hours for them. Ryan was recovering well. Matthew still had lingering effects but mostly better. That’s when picture was taken, Popaw was feeling better and so thrilled to see Matthew feeling better that he got down on the floor with him. Played with him and then grabbed him and hugged him.

As it turned out, we ended up staying with Mawmaw and Popaw for about 10 days. Not only were we waiting for the snow to clear, I got sick too.

Honestly, when I look at this picture and remember our time with them, there’s no place I’d rather have been during that time. More than that, for Mawmaw and Popaw, they loved having us there. Mawmaw always felt very useful when she was administering care and Popaw just loved having us around. There was always an inexplicable joy that came from being with them. And there was always “pure joy” whenever there was a child in their arms.

Change

Change is hard. It’s much harder if you’re a control freak, like me. It just doesn’t bode well for us Type A personalities, does it? Change eliminates our ability to control. It forces us into different patterns, new routines, new ways of thinking, even new ways of doing. It forces us out of our element and into the unknown.

As I think back over the past few years, I realize change has been a way of life for me. I barely had the chance to deal with, or not deal with one thing before another thing happened. Hard is an understatement It’s been almost unbearable at times. Those who’ve known me best and loved me most have the seen the struggles, the heartaches,the disappointments and even the times of loneliness and sadness.

I will admit I have been very selective in allowing some close enough to witness the dark cloud of pain my heart has endured. Selective because I have to protect myself. Selective because there was so much grieving my heart had to overcome. My heart needed time and space to heal. I needed time for God to remove the dark cloud of grief and restore my joy.

Here’s what I’ve learned during this time of restoration and healing. God will heal the the broken-hearted.(Psalm 147:3) He will restore joy to one’s heart.(Psalm 23:3) He will bring peace, even in the midst of great disappointment. (John 16:33 , Eph 2:14) It will not happen all at once. It normally is not a quick fix. It will get really ugly before it gets better because that’s where the real healing begins. It is within the crevices of our heart where deep pain and sorrow tend to dwell and need to be laid bare and open before healing can begin. That’s why it’s ugly.

Think of it like this: when Ryan was three he had an accident on the playground at preschool. He burst his chin wide open, stitches were necessary. I watched carefully as the ER doctor first of all cleaned the exterior of the wound. Then he carefully pried open the wound to see how deep it was and cleaned it out more. In doing so, the wound was deeper and required more stitches than initially thought. It also hurt Ryan more when he pried it open. The same with us. We can clean the surface of our hearts for a brief period of time but we’re only bandaid fixing the problem. It’s when we allow God to penetrate through the top layer and get to the real wound that true healing can begin.

The scar he has on his chin is barely noticeable. I don’t even know if he remembers the fall (probably does). The scar will always serve as a reminder of the accident, but it no longer hurts or causes pain because it has been fully healed. And so it is with us, in the fullness of time He makes all things, even the messy, beautiful in His time. (Ecclesiastes 3:11)

Taste and See: A lesson from The Tom and Debbie Portion

As a young child, I had (still have) these incredibly awesome people in my life, Uncle Tom and Aunt Debbie.

I was the flower girl in their wedding. Funny story for another time, I threw the flower petals after the ceremony not as the bride was coming down the aisle.

After they were married, they lived in Tennessee, while the rest of the family lived in the Brevard/Rosman area. So, they always made an effort to ensure they bonded with all of us. They did this by taking us home with them for a week every summer. In fact, for most of us (cousins) spending time with Uncle Tom and Aunt Debbie, was a highlight of our summer.

Anyway, I clearly remember the first time Kristi and I went for a week. We sat down to the table to eat. Food was plentiful. However, Kristi and I didn’t like everything set before us and turned our noses at a few items. That’s when it happened. Aunt Debbie announced the following, “When you are visiting us, our rule is that you take a small portion of any food placed before you and try it. It’s called the Tom and Debbie portion.”

Guess what happened? I learned to like some food I’d never tasted or tried before. (Maybe that’s why I like food so much now). I also learned there were foods I just couldn’t stomach. Sometimes I could tell after the first bite if I liked it or not and sometimes it took the whole portion before I decided. In fact, there were times I may have to try it again and again before I could make a call.

As I’ve pondered this experience, I’ve come to the conclusion that God issues the same invitation to us. He invites us to try him. In fact the scripture says, “Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him” Psalm 34:8

Isn’t it interesting that David issues this invitation to us? Just like the Tom and Debbie portion invited us to taste a little of everything. You may not like what you taste and the great thing about God is that He will never force his way in. He will wait patiently and you may have to taste more than one bite to determine if it’s good. In fact, you may have to try Him again and again and again before you see how sweet and pleasing and good He is.