The Shack

***Spoiler Alert...If you haven't read or seen The Shack, and you plan to, you may want to stop reading now:)


When I was a little girl, one of my favorite things was to climb up on my daddy's lap and be told a story. I always fit very nicely into his lap, taking in deep breaths of his aftershave, listening intently. I loved how he changed the tone in his voice at just the right times. He had a different dialect for every character.

These story times, whether read from a book or told from memory, are precious memories that have led me to a love of reading, writing, and storytelling.  One of the many things for which I thank my earthly father.

In the past years I have found myself drawn more to Christian reading.   I have read books on how to love well, parent better, and find my identity in Christ.  I have laughed along with Jen Hatmaker, Shauna Niequest, and Beth Moore. My eyes have been opened a bit more on a worldview of Christianity and our true mission of Kingdom Living.

For the first time in such a long while,  I find myself in a book of fiction at the current moment. I am a sucker for "book turned to movie" hype.  I don't run to the theater...I grab the book. And it just so happens that this go around the book is centered on one's relationship to God.

I first heard about The Shack from an elder's wife in the church family to which I belong. She mentioned it in a fleeting moment in a ladies' class, saying it had helped her understand the trinity a bit better and God's intervention in our lives. She was sure to mention it wasn't strictly "bible-based", but had opened her eyes just the same.

When I heard the movie was about to hit theaters and created quite a bit of a buzz, my memory went back to the comment in class. So I borrowed the book from my sweet friend, Jill.  I decided with multiple plane flights in the weeks to come, I could knock it out pretty quick.

I was wrong.

The first chapters of the book depict a horrific story...the events that lead to the main character's "Great Sadness".  Mack, a believing-but-not-completely-sold, father of three experiences the unimaginable for any parent. While camping, his seven year old daughter is kidnapped and murdered. Her body isn't found.

Did I mention she was seven years old?

Seven. The same age as Sadie.

My vivid imagination and ability to step into a book and visualize the author's description has always been something I am proud of...I see it as a gift. But in this case my heart broke, my stomach churned, and the only face of a child I could see was Sadie's. It was awful...more than awful.

Michael watched as I picked up the book and slammed it back down on the bedside table. My friend Jill got many texts and calls asking if this book was worth the terror and agony of the first few chapters.  It has been the first book that I have read only paragraphs at a time, not by chapters.

I finally got through the backstory and the writer took me, the reader, to present time...post crime...when Mack is in the middle of what he calls "The Great Sadness". He is led mysteriously back to the scene of his daughter's murder, a shack in the middle of woods in the Oregon wilderness. When he arrives he finds the shack miraculously changed and then meets three folks. And you guessed it...each one represents a third of the trinity...God the Father, Jesus the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Now this is where alot of my friends say it gets weird for them, and I will admit its a bit different.

God appears as a large, African American woman who is called "Papa".

Jesus is portrayed by a friendly and relatable Middle-Eastern man who the author describes as a laborer. He even wears a tool belt and has a workshop.

The Holy Spirit is a small Asian woman named Sarayu who does the supernatural and collects tears.

I would be lying to say that this isn't hard for me as well.  My imagination and visualization kicks in again and I find myself standing in the shack with my mouth hanging wide open right along with Mack.

Mack questions the appearance of God and he is told that God chooses to appear different ways to different people. "Papa" mentions that the way in which the three are appearing is to keep Mack from falling back into his religious conditioning and steer him away from religious stereotypes.

My mind immediately goes to the depiction most of us see in our heads when we visualize Christ. Just past the shoulder brown locks, neatly groomed facial hair, blue eyes, and a stoic face. I bet he didn't have blue eyes. And I just know he smiled much more than he was stoic.

Just after meeting everyone, Mack watches as "Papa" walks into the shack.  Jesus walks over and puts an arm around his shoulder.  Mack asks in bewilderment if he is going crazy and if he should really believe that this woman is God. Jesus in return laughs...

"She's a riot! You can always count on her to throw you a curve or two.  She loves surprises, and even though you might not think it, her timing is always perfect."

"Really?" said Mack, still shaking his head and not sure if he really believes that. "So now what am I supposed to do?"

"You're not suppose to do anything. You're free to do whatever you like." Jesus paused and then continued, trying to help by giving Mack a few suggestions. "I am working on a wood project in the shed. Sarayu is in the garden. Or you could go fishing, canoeing, or go in and talk to Papa."

"Well I sort of feel obligated to go in and talk to him, uh, her."

"Oh" - now Jesus was serious- "don't go because you feel obligated. That won't get you any points around here. Go because it's what you want to do."

Now, you may be thinking this book is out there. Some may be thinking I am not making the best choice in reading it. That's ok...just stay with me for a bit longer.

I have read many books that I do not agree with 100%. There are speakers of different backgrounds and faiths that I differ with, but I listen to their messages.  I have sat across a table from a friend and not aligned perfectly in belief and thought.  Sometimes I even strongly disagree with some people. But somewhere along the way, someone tried to impress this upon how I live my life...

You can learn something from everyone and everything.

And from the above excerpt from this book I learn this...or maybe I should say that I was reminded and my eyes were opened to something that I really knew all along...

God has done enough for me. And God has given me choice...some folks call that a free will. The choice that I make should never be out of complete obligation. Doing all the things that I have been taught to do, if done just for the purpose of "because you should", is worth nothing.  If my good deeds and relationship with God is based solely on what I HAVE to do and not what I WANT to do, we have a problem.

In true Christianity, we obey God because we have been and are loved by God. The only reason there is love in the world today is because of God. Scripture simply tells us "God IS love." (I John 4:8) The only reason we can love others is because He loves us. You can't give something that you haven't been given. Because there is love, we shouldn't obey out of fear, obligation, or shame.

"As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you. Now remain in my love. If you keep my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commands and remain in His love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete." 

 John 15:9-11

At times, I fear that I may have led folks to believe that I think love is the only key to Christian living. Sometimes you need to be sure you are speaking in clarity the things you hold dear. So to be clear...I hold love very dear to my heart, but I also hold obedience just as dear.

Love is filled with obedience. Obedience is filled with love. They go hand in hand. You must not ever separate the two.  The two things must exist together.

And as God tells us, the greatest commands are to love God and to love others. (Matthew 22:36-40) He also tells us to count others better than ourselves. (Philippians 2:3) He didn't put any exceptions in the lines following that.  No "except those that get on your nerves" or "except those that aren't as mannerly as you" or "except those that make poor decisions" or "except those that use bad language and are inappropriate".  I am pretty sure He didn't give us those exceptions because those are the people that need to see His love the most...and they will only see it in us. Shame on us, if we can't show them what true love is, with the hope of leading others to obedience.

These must be the greatest commandments, because without love true obedience can't really exist. And without obedience, a relationship with the Father can't exist. And we must love Him first above all others because we don't know how to love without Him because He is love...always has been.

In the above verse from John, Jesus says he loves, because God loves him. Then he asks his disciples, and us, to love  through obedience. And obeying allows us to stay in His love. And finally, those two things will allow us to know complete joy.

Obedience and love...no room for obligation...only space for grace-filled joy.

"Published"

For the second year in a row, my friend and mission trip partner, Erin, asked me to write a little something for the devotional guide for Lipscomb University Missions.  At this point in time it's the closest I have ever been to being "published". ;)

Photo credit: Erin Gupton

Below you will find my entry for this year's guide...


Kingdom living. For me it's a somewhat new phrase in church circles today. Growing up in  churches of Christ my entire life, I wasn't familiar with certain terms like witness, testimony, and revival. When I got a little bit older in college, I began to figure out that these terms are very beautiful and are a huge part of a Christian walk.

In the last year or so I've heard the term kingdom living or kingdom purpose. I even use it in my conversations these days. But what exactly does it mean? What is our purpose in God's kingdom? How are we supposed to live?

When I found out this was my topic for the devotional guide, I decided to reach out to a large group of friends, family, and church leaders that I've looked up to for years. I asked them two questions: 1. What is kingdom living? 2. What is our purpose in God's kingdom?

I loved delving into all of the answers. Some were very lengthy. Some were short and to the point. A few people responded immediately, while others took a few days and put quite a bit of thought into it. Through all the responses though, it was very easy to see a summary that they all agreed upon. 

Our kingdom purpose... Love God and love others.

And I'm in total agreement! Our Father's purpose for us is to love. A simple four letter word. And there's a hierarchy of who we should love first second and third. We are told that the first commandment and most important commandment is to love God and the second is to love others as ourselves. So naturally we come last. So as we chant at an afterschool program I'm a part of on Wednesdays for children in our local community...

Love God.

Love others.

Love yourself.

One Wednesday, I had a little friend asked me, "Ms. Aletha is it really that easy? He just wants us to love?" 

I believe it is. In today's American church we are obsessed with making things a lot more complicated than they need to be. Friends, kingdom living isn't sitting in a comfortable, cool church building. It isn't ritualistic and full of rules. It isn't a business. It isn't about what makes us feel happy and good. It isn't about how much biblical knowledge we have stored up in our brains.

It is about just what it says it is...LIVING for our KING. And everything He did while on this earth was steeped in and oozed love. 

So after asking this group of folks these questions, it hit me if I had really looked at their lives the answers were already there.  I need not ask questions...I just needed to watch, listen, and learn.

Kingdom Living is the youth minister who loves on kids with humor. He meets them for school lunches and cheers them on at football games. He meets their friends and welcomes them all into his circle. 

Kingdom Living is the young missionary mom. She follows the beatitude to seek justice and mercy. She helps rescue young women from sex trafficking in foreign lands. She travels abroad to grow her family, taking a six year old girl as her daughter. 

Kingdom living is the small town bank president who shows Jesus to his employees and customers. He is forgiving. He is intentional. He is wise, but humble.

Kingdom living is seen in the middle aged grandmother. She loves on her children and their children, but she also seeks out "the least of these". She writes checks so children in need have school supplies and shoes. She doesn't stop there though. She spends many afternoons a year teaching children how to serve and love others.

Kingdom living is graced with tattoos and piercings. It's going on in generations young and old alike. It's quiet, but other times it's loud. Sometimes it's a bit chaotic and messy. But it's beautiful all of the time, drenched in various shapes, forms and fashions of that little four letter word...love.

Fifteen Years Ago

This Spring Break trip to Saba was the fifteenth.  Michael has twisted my arm for a few years now to be the one who ends our "Finale" on Saturday night. "Finale" is a big potluck and gathering of food, fellowship, and entertainment from the children at Sacred Heart School. MT finally succeeded and got his wish this year.

Because tears seem to find their way easily to my eyes, I wrote down what I planned to say. Below you will find what I shared in honor of the fifteen year relationship between Saba and Lipscomb.



Fifteen years ago...

The new airport at Flat Point had just opened.

The Tampa Bay Buccaneers had won the Super Bowl in January.

Jonathan Johnson was a teacher at Sacred Heart School

Eminem, 50 Cent, and Sean Paul were at the top of the charts as young new artisits.

We were not worried about Dory yet, we had just started to try and find Nemo.

Erin Gupton was 11. Myron Hassell was 6. And Peter Johnson was 13.

Fifteen years ago...

The sweet name of Mrs. Clement wasn't even spoken yet on the campus of Saba Comprehensive School.

The space shuttle Colombia disintegrated upon re-entry to earth.

The Netherlands celebrated the birth of Princess Catherina-Amalia that year.

George W. Bush was president of the United States.

Conner Crocker was 8. Michael-Angelo Hassell was 1. Sadie Thomas and Shijdy Riley weren't even thought of yet.

Fifteen years ago...

The Unique Shop was down the one-way street in Windwardside, and Breadline Plaza didn't exist.

Willard's set atop the cliffs on Bobby Hill.

War was ever present in the Middle East. The world knew a new type of terrorism.

Luke Countryman was 7. Rachel Dye was a sophomore in highschool. Billy Jean Rodriguez was about to be born on plane on the way to St. Martin.

Fifteen years ago, the local Saba Comprehensive School food preparation, care, and tourism teacher was a young, Southern U.S. gal named Aletha. Her students called her Ms. Thomas. And this teacher was in love.  She was in love with her new tall, dark, and handsome husband. But she also had fallen in love with a 5-square miles God had placed in the middle of the Caribbean Sea.

I was completely in love with this little island and her people...and I still am.

Fifteen years ago, thirteen people landed on Saba and carried the name of Lipscomb University.

And fifteen years later, in many minds, when March rolls around you can't have one without the other.

Some may say that this all started as something random. That by chance two folks ended up calling Saba home for a couple years and one of them happened to have been a Lipscomb graduate. Many people call it coincidence. But God knows.

God knew we needed Saba. God knew Lipscomb would have a place here. God knew a relationship was needed. All of this is a result of one thing...God's love.

Many folks think Lipscomb brings a lot to the island and we teach a lot of needed things.  That this is one sided. I assure you that isn't the whole story.  It isn't one sided at all.  You see, I...we...Lipscomb learns a lot from the island...from you.  You have forever changed us and all the others that have graced your shores in the past fifteen years.

So I end with not my words, or the words of Michael, but I end with words of a wise and strong Saban. In fact, I'd say she is one of the wisest people I have ever known, and I am very thankful she shares two of her grandsons with me.

"To have love you must have God. Love comes only from God. The saying says the one who lives in love, lives in God. In my opinion you must have God to have love. Love comes from the heart. You must have a pure, clean heart to see people through loving eyes. Love is not an easy thing. To love you have to be understanding, encouraging, respectful, forgiving. Sometimes you want to love somebody...they may be rude and disrespectful...just try your best and pray about it. The same for forgiving people; whatever they do, you love them and forgive them. Love is not an easy thing. To love you have to have a pure, clean heart."
                                                                              Mrs. Carmen Simmons-Nicholson

Up Above the Clouds

Up above the clouds.

Sadie asked me on the way down two weeks ago, if we were close to heaven. I simply replied...

"Probably so, but we are about to be even closer."

Heaven on earth is many things to many people, but for me it's a five-square island in the Caribbean Sea. It's lush and green. The road is paved in concrete. Goats run free and iguanas line the walls.  The sounds of children's squeals and laughter fill the air. It's people fill my heart up with a full and joyful love like none other. 

To spend time in this oasis for the soul, energizes me. Makes me realize that life should be a lot simpler...and focused on the little things. 

Little things. Like the way a child's hand fits ever so easily into that of an adult's. The wind blowing through your hair. Like the windows rolled down on the car and conversation as you turn a curve and change gears. A cup of afternoon coffee or tea with a friend. Playing dodgeball on a Tuesday afternoon. 

The little things. Those must be more present in my life back in the chaos of America. I learn so much from my Unspoiled Queen and her lovely people.

The people that fly in these planes with me are a bit of heaven on earth for me as well. Many of them have already meshed back into the mundane. Their adventure ended on Sunday night as their feet once again walked on the ground in Nashville. 

This year's Spring Break team was a beautiful collaboration of seasoned and new.  The seasoned brought help and assurance to me and Michael and familiarity and comfort to the people of Saba. The new brought excitement and rejuvenation. New friendships and connections were made that won't easily be broken.

Relationship. 

Many mission efforts are about hard working service; building houses or digging wells. Many others focus on medical care and providing physical needs. Others focus on caring for orphans and widows. 

A lot of our Lipscomb friends get odd looks when they explain their Spring Break excursion.

"You didn't paint a house? You didn't build a bridge? This wasn't a medical mission?"

Jesus did heal. He fed and provided physical needs. He and his followers I am sure served in the most selfless of ways. 

But first, He had to know the people.

He sat at their tables and visited their houses. He listened to their problems. He shed tears with them and I just know He laughed hysterically with them at times. He talked about life, in order to bring the Giver of Life to everyone He came in contact with. 

And I saw Him in so many people last week, Lipscomb and Saban alike.

I saw Him on a playground as Grant Mason and Conner Crocker helped a little guy named Melnese up onto a ping pong table. 

I saw Him as Jeff and Maricelly Johnson welcomed not only 26 Lipscomb team members into their home, but 10-15 other folks that needed the kindness of hospitality. 

I saw Him in the quiet leadership of AK and Lauren. 

I witnessed Him as Jose Luis took time to take my husband to lunch. 

I saw Him as Richinel, Cedric and Henriques interrupted their days to make sure we had what we needed and we were on time.

I saw Him in the humility and patience of our sweet Jill Momma. She is more than I can speak. 

I saw Him as Nancy Caroline was called by K1 to come and play. I saw Him as Jackson helped teach the K2 class.

I saw Him in the tears of little ones as they told me how much they missed Victoria, Devon, and Hannah.

I saw Him in the new friendships Ethan seem to make so easily with his teammates and those he met on Saba.

I saw Him as Myron sat and talked with Shayne during recess. An older Saban "boy", mentoring a younger, even if neither realized it.

I saw Him in Carly. She is engrossed in the lives of Sabans, young and old. They all ask about her and know without a shadow of a doubt she cares for them. 

I saw Him in the confidence of Jessica, the openness of Nelsia, and in the teacher that Peter has become. 

I saw Him as Luke walked with Jamal, Lana sat with Bri, and Rachel and Jacob loved on so many.

I saw Him as Ms. Lynne stepped outside her comfort zone and as Principal Diane ordered us pizza. 

I saw Him in how Holly's face lit up when she played with Jayden. And I saw Him smile as Sarah prayed to Him. 

I saw Him as Grant and Erin sat and interviewed both sides of the table about 15 years of the Saba-Lipscomb bond. Not so much for the info for documentary, but to truly know the people they spoke to and that they felt a part of the greater picture. 

I saw Him as Steven wept just before Jeffery walked out into the safety of the waters and I held his hand. 

I saw Him just as Trisha rushed to the gate as I was about to walk out to the plane today. 

I saw Him in the love and friendship of two seven year olds...one who calls the Caribbean home and one who is a Tennessee Volunteer. Time and distance are never a barrier, never have been, all because of one word...

Relationship. 

God made Adam. Then He made Eve. 

God kept Noah on the Ark...and He put Noah's family there with him.

Moses had Aaron. Joshua had Caleb. Naomi had Ruth.

Jesus chose 12 followers and they became friends. They were a tight circle. 

God gave Mary a John and Paul a Timothy. 

Sometimes we loose sight of the fact that we serve the same God that we read of in the Bible. The same God that showed up in a burning bush and parted the waters of the sea...He is the God we serve. The God that sent down manna and walked with Shadrack, Meshack, and Abednego, walks with us. The same God that made all these connections, is still very much alive and at work today. 

He made us for relationship. That is our mission. 

He gave Lipscomb to Saba.

He gave Saba to Lipscomb. 

What My Husband Learned from a Muslim Man

"In Christ Jesus we have BOLDNESS and ACCESS with confidence through FAITH in HIM."

Ephesians 3:12

So if you visit here often, you hear a slew of stories about Saba, three kids, and how those four together have changed me. I have been known to write a bit about my dad and mom and my family life growing up. Where you come from has a lot to do about who you become.

But one person who I might mention from time to time but I don't give much page space to is the man who I call my husband. I suppose that is for a few reasons, not worth mentioning here in this moment. But you can't have the other four without him first. Michael Thomas is the reason I know about and have a relationship with the island. He is the man who made me a mother. If I am honest, he is my greatest strength many times, but in other times I have allowed the enemy to make him the source of my weaknesses. 

We both are very much extroverts. We both love to lead and we like to "move and shake" things up. We get pretty passionate about what we believe to be right and just. We work really well together and partner on many endeavors. But sometimes we can get in each other's way and our pride can get the better of us. 

His loud laughter, expressive eyebrows, and how he excessively talks with his hands are some of my favorite things. He has a few characteristics I could do without...and I pray fervently that he overlooks my not-so-attractive characteristics that plague him week to week.

At the end of the day, our current relationship is a more true picture of what love is rather than the fairytales and daydreams I had when I entered the marriage. I say that with conviction and optimism today...because it's true, and I will need to be reminded of that when we hit an occasional bump down the road, as all couples do.

Photo credit: Tiffany Gannon

Jackson was given Michael's loyalty, his love of sports, and his humor. Nancy Caroline was given his analytical thinking and drive for perfection. Sadie was given his goofiness and spirit of adventure. 

They all have been given Michael's tender heart.

This past weekend I was able to vividly see the effects and results of that tender heart of their dad. He came home from ten days in Dakar, Senegal, Africa.  He spent his time there seeing around 500 local folks, extending love to them in the form of medical care, all in the name of Jesus.

Michael during his trip. 

Photo courtesy of a fellow team member, Susan Smith. 

As I left church services this past Sunday and made my way over to Parsley's Market on the four-lane, I expected to pick up an exhausted, weary, perhaps even stinky traveler.  I should have known better. He was all smiles. I'd like to think it was the sight of me, but it might have been the Diet SunDrop I extended to him as he stepped out of the car.

As we drove home and we visited as I finished a big Sunday lunch spread, he had lots to tell me.  He had story after story of the team he had worked with, the new culture he had experienced, and the people he had cared for and how they had changed him. He even pulled out some of his purchases at the market.  If you know his sense of fashion, you might could imagine.  I know you are anxiously awaiting to see some of the local attire he brought back.

The Dakar team.

Photo courtesy of Darryl and Terry Deason.

One story has stuck with me. My mind continues to go back to it.  I can tell it turned that tender heart of his even a bit more tender.  It centers around one of the Muslim men he took care of during the clinic hours. 

In the first two days of his stay he had found out that 90% of the population was Muslim. He had heard the Muslim call the prayer cast out loudly into the city five times each day. This was new to him, and was a bit more distracting than the occasional roar of our island's twin otter planes or the nightly tree frogs on Saba.

That Monday morning, I imagine he was most eager to see his first patients, but as anyone would be I am sure he was a tad bit nervous. He would be thorough and careful not to miss anything that day. And knowing him, I am sure he was anxious about the conditions he would see and the people he would meet.

When his first male patient came in, he began with the normal doctor visit questions. We all know the routine...

"Hi, I am Michael Thomas, and I will be taking care of you. What brings you in today?"

The only difference is that the man didn't understand the words coming out of my husband's mouth, but the words that then followed out of the mouth belonging to Birame Ka, the translator assigned to Michael's room for the week.

After the initial questions, the exam ensued. Listening to the heart and lungs. Looking into the ears, nose, and throat. Reflexes. 

I don't know if every physician does or not, but the father of my children always looks over the skin, checking for odd colorations or blemishes that might need some further attention. He looks intently as he rubs his hands ever so lightly over the exposed skin of his patient. And he did so with this man.

As he made his inspection down to the man's left ankle he noticed a rough, raised, calloused oval shape. He rubbed his finger over the spot inquisitively. As he continued to exam he noticed a similar spot on the man's fourth toe. It was odd.

The man could see the curiosity and concern in Michael's eyes. He said some words that the American ears in the room could not understand and then Birame helped the good doctor out...

"I am Muslim. Those are callouses from where I kneel to pray."

I don't know for sure if was seen or not in his demeanor, but Dr. Thomas was touched by this explanation. He was even further touched as all the other Muslim men came and went out of his makeshift exam room for the week. Almost all of them had the matching calloused spots denoting their faith and dedication to prayer.

As this story spilled from the mouth of my husband, he paused, and then ended the story by telling me this...

"I don't have callouses."

A big difference in me and Michael is the way we communicate emotionally. I spew and spew and spew. Sometimes I get so frustrated with Michael and his inability to express emotion verbally. Shame on me. There is so much truth in the simple ways he lets you know what he is feeling and thinking. In that short comment, I got him.

We serve and worship the one true God. Our faith should be so great that it can be visibly seen and felt. It needs to be so strong and big that it even is uncomfortable at times.  Others should be able to see it, causing them to question, giving us the chance to tell them about what made Jesus more than just a prophet, that he was the Messiah.

We should humbly come to the throne of God so much that we have sore knees and calloused ankles, and perhaps just not metaphorically.

My husband learned that from a Muslim man. And in return, I learned that from my husband.

Sadie, the Blogger

So, I may have created a monster.

"Hey mom, can you post this on your blog? I think it's awesome and I spent A LOT of time on it!"

"Of course, Sadie."

I love many things about this piece of artwork.

I love that we all have on shirts that say "Best ________ Ever".  Sadie's just says "Me". All of us agree she is the best ever, at least in our eyes.

I love that we are holding hands.  I especially like that Jackson and NC are holding hands.

I love that we all have pockets on our jeans and Jackson has a booger. Those two things just make me giggle.

If you look closely, you can faintly see the imprint of an address stamp that bled through from the back side of this paper. After she spent hours on this, Jackson picked it up the next day, it being the closest piece of paper to him, and began stamping our address stamper on the back...just for fun, out of boredom.

Oh sweet Sadie was devastated.  Her masterpiece would never be the same.  Jackson was embarrassed and regretful, and made some excuses.  Mom was irritated and disappointed, scolding one and consoling the other.  Nancy Caroline tried making a photocopy of it, all of us thinking the copy may not show the blurs of ink from the stamp. We were wrong...the scars were there.

So last night when Sadie brought this to me and asked for me to post it, I smiled. A couple weeks later, her brother's action was forgotten.  The blurs of the mistake were forgiven, and ironically had become a part of her masterpiece.

As I have said before, I learn so much from my kids.

"Unless you become like little children...you will never get into the Kingdom of Heaven."

Experiences like this, make me realize that I think the Father said this because little children mimic Him in so many ways. They are more in tune with Him than most of us calloused and skeptical big folks. Forgiveness comes easy to them. They even forget the grievances. And they find beauty in the smudges of mistaken ink.

I will always keep this picture...to remind me of how forgiveness, life, and love should look like. And in the chance I have to remind the three kids of these things somewhere down the line, when they aren't so little anymore.

So, one last thing I love about this drawing...

I love that Sadie finds this piece of artwork of her's extraordinary, brother's smudged ink , and all.

Four Weeks

Four weeks.

28 days. 672 hours. 40,320 minutes. 2,419,200 seconds.

In four weeks, I will be on a plane. In four weeks, my island will be within sight.

There are so many things that I anticipate happening once we land on "The Unspoiled Queen". There are some definites.

Ting. I will drink my fill in Ting for thirteen days. For those unfamiliar, Ting is a Caribbean soda that will change your world. Imagine Fresca, but on steroids and 100 times better. When I am on Saba it's as though I have an addiction to the sparkling, green bottled goodness. It pairs wonderfully with a Johnny Cake. Johnny Cakes...those are definites too.

My name will be transformed to "Aleta". The "h" will be dropped and I won't mind it in the slightest. I also will revert back to a couple other titles. "Ms. Thomas"...others may call me "Teacher Thomas". Whatever I am called, I will smile and answer with joy in my heart.

I will sit and visit with a Spanish teacher in her classroom. I will have coffee with Ms. Lynne at The Busy Bee more than once. I will visit with friends in Upper Hell's Gate and sit around their table.  I will visit our friends in The Bottom and our kids will play together. I will be called to the principal's office. I will sit and visit with some beautiful, kind, and talented teenage girls.

Late one night when the day is done for most of the folks on the island, I will walk down the road to Well's Bay by flashlight. Peter will be with me. I will catch a land crab.

I will play kickball and dodgeball.

I will laugh...alot. I will cry too.

These are all things that I know for sure will be a part of my days on Saba in four weeks. But the things that excite me the most are the things that I do not know to expect. The surprises. The things that I can't even day dream about. The things that make one take a double take and stand in awe.

The things that only our Creator can orchestrate.

Coincidence and luck have nothing to do with any of it.

It's ALWAYS Him.

He has broken hearts. Provided redemption. Created bonds of friendship. Opened eyes and hearts like never before. He has healed wounds and allowed many to celebrate the scars. He has washed people in the waters.

He has used the craziest and most obscure modes and methods. His work has been done on a basketball court and during dodgeball games. His words have been shared over pasta, while fathers and daughters danced, and as dominoes were slammed onto a table. Some have encountered Him in the wee hours of the morning on a rooftop or in an empty parking lot. Others have met Him by the sea or on the road or in a gazebo in a park.

However He does it, whatever He uses, whereever He shows up...it's always the best. It's always beyond description. My words here can not even begin to do it justice.

My times on Saba always encourage my hope, strengthen my faith, and bring more love into my life that I can ever muster up to give away. I know the Father is getting my heart ready to serve, but He is also getting it ready to be turned and healed and filled. I need the island. I need time on Her shores with Her people. I am ready for Him to show up and show off on my five square miles.  He always does. That is a definite.

Four weeks.