Still A Snow Day

✅ FORT BUILDING
                    Kaley made it six steps before she toppled face first... again! So sure footed across any surface, except the snow. Glenn scooped her up easy, only for Kaley to kick her legs for another try. Without a doubt, their rambunctious daughter was looking to climb the walls of the family fort. She had always been ready to copy her big brother, Brandon; who at the moment, hung like a monkey on their left rampart.
                    Beverly raised her hand under Brandon's bottom, giving him the needed boost over the wall. He rolled into the 'courtyard', white powder covering him head to toe, only to hop back up, arms spread in his bright orange snowsuit. "I am Mountain Man!"
                    "Mom, where's the small spade?" Ivan was crawling out of the low doorway into the fort, taking no notice of Brandon's stomping and posing.
                    "Dooowwwnn!" Kaley begged Glenn again.
                    Amidst all the demands, as biting as the air that slipped through their gloves and scarves, Beverly and Glenn kept the balance between the strategy of their eldest and the destruction of their two youngest. Most people just threw snow into a pile into it possibly resembled a house or beaver den. Not the Marcsons. A colossal snow fort was a tradition which Glenn had brought to their marriage. Nothing less than four rooms with outer walls like a fortress, and a roof; if the accumulation was durable enough.
                    The snow today did not disappoint!
                    "Here." Glenn traded Kaley off to Beverly. "You'll want to pack in these corners for stability."
                    Glenn switched places with Beverly, getting in with Ivan to 'stabilize' their fort. Toddler on her hip, Beverly bent down to where Brandon licked at the snow resting on his glove. She snickered. "Good?"
                    Brandon waved his hand at her, nose cherry and wet. "This'll make Mountain Man strong!"
                    "I'm sure." Beverly put herself down cross-legged; a welcome position after an hour of stacking. Despite the cold across her face, sweat lined her brow and a mess of her hair had slipped from under her hood. Same with Kaley and Brandon's blond hair. In short, they looked like their father and acted like her.... challenging the laws of physics wherever they went. While Ivan retained Glenn's level-headedness, loving to point out what his siblings always did wrong.
                    However, Beverly rejected the over-analysis of her children. She was just happy to see them all wear those carefree expressions of a worryless day. There was indeed a uniqueness to the feeling of a snow day. Once Beverly had realized this, halting the 4WD brakes and celebrating the surprise holiday became her new family project. She and Glenn had talked about their rare situation- she a teacher and half of his architect contracts were work from home- and how it needed to be taken advantage of.
                    And as chilling and thrilling as they had made it so far, the snow fort was just the tip of the iceberg!

~To Be Continued~

A Marcson Snow Day

✅ THE GOOD NEWS
                    Was it possible?
                    Beverly enlarged the report on her screen, the glow mirroring her growing grin. Heavenly Father, it is!
                    The squeal came up from her toes, casting off whatever sleep lingered on her eyelids. Rolling under the cover of down that was their comforter, Beverly put her phone over Glenn's shoulder so he could see it. Well, if his eyes had been open.
                    "Nine inches," Beverly giggled into her husband's ear. "with ice. Snow day, babe."
                    She got REM-induced mumbles in reply. Something about being insane.
                    "Yes, God is good to us." Beverly kissed Glenn's temple and slipped out of bed so as not to disturb. Her grittiness followed her to the jack-n-jill bathroom, where she wrestled her chestnut hair into a tie. Not today, bedhead. There's too much winter to enjoy! 
                    Everyone had been content with the so-so season the county had had this year. No slush, no fuss as any rational person might think. Good thing 'rational' didn't apply to Beverly... if only because she never stood still long enough to let it!
                    Hair up, Beverly snatched her fuzzy pink-striped socks off the rim of the tub where they'd been drying. Next came her terry-cloth robe, hugging her in its softness as she tiptoed for the stairs. So much to do... but first things first.

✅ BREAKFAST
                    "You didn't wake us up."
                    Beverly turned her head from the sizzling stove of potatoes and eggs. Ivan stared in the threshold of the kitchen, pajamas as lopsided as his hair. She raised her brow. "Did I need to?"
                    Ivan's own brow- so serious for seven- knitted together. He eyed her in confusion, hearing the Christmas music from the player, sensing the heartwarming smells of breakfast... and not getting it. Until his eyebrows rose in illumination and he dashed from sight, heading for the bay window. Beverly smiled for his excitement. Outside, he'd find the sun sparkling across a gaping field of billowy white. All the branches bowed down in their ice crowns while the sun peeked in and out of wispy clouds that promised further snowfall.
                    Beverly could hardly wait to feel the flakes kiss her nose and cheeks. But first, breakfast! Frolicking amid drifts of snow could not be done on an empty stomach. Beverly flipped the potatoes so they didn't burn, opening the oven with her other hand. Cinnamon wafted off the slices of french toast that were turning to gold. Ah, the joys of baking, Lord... 
                    She was at risk of overusing that word today, but she was too happy to care. She'd been sick for the last snow day and this food had about to go to waste. She was making up for lost time. Beverly closed the oven, almost missing the coos over the baby monitor. "Ma,ma,ma,ma,ma,ma."
                    "Ivan." Beverly called him away from the window. "Will you go get Kaley?"
                    Ivan poked his head in, pouted lip in place. "But she wants you."
                    "I'm busy making sure we have fuel to build our fort." Beverly twirled her spatula in emphasis. "And bring your tablet down too."
                    "Dad's phone too?" Ivan assumed. Beverly winked. "Of course."
                    The policy had taken a while to fall into effect, but Beverly and Glenn looked on it now with a renewed gaze of gratitude. Evenings, holidays, and certain weeks of summer, all electronics entered 'the cabinet'. Special conditions applied to emergencies, but aside from the CD/DVD player in the living room, no device was accessible to the Marcson family until quality time had been fulfilled. Beverly's own laptop and phone were already up there, collecting dust.
                    Ain't nothing distracting us from this. Beverly fawned her oven mitts to pull out her perfect french toast.

~To Be Continued~ 

Ready, Set, Glorify!

Beginning the new year off, I have naturally been sighting all of my flaws under a lab microscope to see what I need to get rid of.

Surprisingly, the list looks much the same as it did last year. Despressing me, and nearly overshadowing my hope of being the best human being on the earth this year. Then, I get hit over the head with this verse:

'Let your light so shine before men, 

that they may see your good works and glorify 

your Father in heaven.'

~Matthew 5:16 (NKJV)~

Wanting to be better and remake ourselves is a most familiar momentum. We live in it for the first few weeks of the new year (for those truly dedicated, until February!) before sputtering and struggling, and finally giving up on it. In a sense, that's a wise thing to do.

1) You can't become better, or wiser, or any of that alone; pushing for any radical change right out of the New Year's gate is a fool's errand.

2) It's never been about us or our accomplishments to begin with.

I'm going to let the verse fill in the blanks because I can't out do the gospels. We're not foolish for wanting to better ourselves, our relations, or our habits. But, we are foolish if we don't plan on getting the right help or having the proper goal in mind. For a Christian, that's to honor God, and to seek Him out.

So, whatever changes, goals, or milestones you're wanting to reach this year (heck, even in this decade), start it off the right way. WITH God and FOR God.

'Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, 

let us throw off EVERYTHING that hinders 

and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run 

with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes 

on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.'

~Hebrews 12:1-2 (NIV)~ 

The Tender Circle

             "Ba."
              Gareth started from the doze he'd fallen into. He straightened up on the lawn chair and saw Melody peering through the screen door. He didn't need to check his watch to know that she needed to be in bed. However, tossed black hair surrounding her round face, coupled with a nose smushed against the screen, made it impossible for him to reprimand. "Not sleepy, eh?"
              Melody slid the screen open and immediately joined him on the chair, giraffe slippers and all. She was going on nine, big for Gareth's lap. He tilted his head back so Melody could settle hers beneath his scruffy chin. He'd gone clean shaven once when Melody was four- she'd told him how his face 'didn't feel right'. Since then, shaving hadn't been a big habit of his.
              "Ursa minor." Melody observed, finger extended into the sky to trace the twinkling shape. She dragged it down toward the horizon. "Ursa major."
               She missed one and Gareth redirected her hand. "Can't have a hole in the bottom. Could flood the whole earth."
               Melody giggled. "Where's Cygnus?"
               Gareth eyed the ink-black night, held back by the stars burning millions of light years away; and still so bright. And so random and scattered to the untrained eye. When had he become one of those trained eyes? Gareth moved Melody's hand to the left, hovering over a stretched cross of dots. "Right there."
               He dropped his hand, letting Melody trace the constellation on her own. She lingered on the middle. "Can Mama see them?"
               "Better then we can." Gareth thought of the wide telescope that was the center of Bao-yu's 'office'. She was an astronomer- the easy term for the 'data reduction specialist' title she held at the observatory- and she was the reason that he could tell the stars apart. "She's lookin' at all of them."
               "She had to go back to work before us." Melody dropped her head back with a snicker. Gareth grinned for his daughter, but held relief behind it. Bao-yu had finally gone back to work. Not a moment too soon in his opinion. It had been a hard summer. Melody wrapped Gareth's arms around her, though it was hardly cold. They lived in Arizona, where people wore long sleeves in December as a joke. He let the silence of the night return, until Melody's hand went back up. His brow furrowed. "What're you holdin' luv?"
               Melody passed the thread thin necklace of rose gold to him. Gareth swallowed. "Raidin' Mama's jewelry box, is it?"
               "She didn't take it with her." Melody shrugged, like there was no need for further explanation. Gareth ran his thumb over the two smooth circles, intertwined at the center of the necklace. "They can't wear these things at the observatory. Certain equipment has magnets in it. Rip this right off of your mother's neck."
               He knew this, yet wondered if it had been hard for Bao-yu to leave it. Eleven years and she'd never been without it; even in the midst of her depression, when she hadn't cared about much else.
               "Why's it so special?"
               Gareth's dry laugh went out to the sky. "That is a long story, Melody."
               "It's going to be a long night." Melody said, voice high with hopes. Gareth laughed again, pushing her up. "You need to get to sleep."
               "Can't." Melody stated matter-of-factly, facing him. Gareth let the night slip by for a minute, gearing himself to convince her to go back to bed. Melody's mouth was by his ear then. "I'm nervous to start school, Ba."
                Gareth thought on that as Melody kicked her feet up, toes wiggling. She enjoyed being barefoot, as well as the color silver, blueberry pie, and any book with a treasure hunt in it. Melody could memorize anything and was his right hand man whenever the sink worked up. All this- and she was too shy to share it with others. He could tell that she wanted to; but always let her shyness get in the way. Gareth looked back at the necklace in his hand, so used to seeing it against his wife's throat. He dangled it out farther so that Melody could see it. "That long story's about facin' your fears."
               "Ba," Melody giggled confidently. "Nothing scares you."
               I once thought nothing could. Gareth thought. "I grew up in Cowbridge, remember."
               "Nana calls it Vale of Glamorgan because it's prettier." Melody noted.
               "It's too small a place for such a long name." Gareth remarked. His gaze retreated back to the stars, seeing his memories float between them. "It was too small for me. I needed to get out, see the world."
                Melody's fingers now played in and out of the gold chain. "And you did?"
                "I worked on the continent for a time," Gareth saw the streets of London and the bridges of Norway wonder across the stars. "Opened me eyes to a lot of things. My work then landed me in Hong Kong, building my first skyscraper-"
                 "Like you do now!' Melody exclaimed, always excited that both her parents were 'sky experts'. Gareth was glad to give her something to be proud of. He tugged at her bed-tossed hair. "I then traveled to Sandouping, to help build the largest dam in the world."
                The grandeur in his voice couldn't do justice to the scope of the Three Gorges. He'd walked on its backbone, watched the Yangtze split and foam past the massive coffers. He'd helped piece together its cement belly and motioned the giant turbines as they were lowered into place. No, he couldn't cement the measure of that into one sentence. "We were building a concrete giant, so that cities and factories in the valley could get power. Some of those factories are owned by your grandfather."
              Without realizing, his voice got softer. Did Jianguo still own those factories? A Google search- one he wouldn't admit to- could only reveal so much. "He visited the dam often, with other investors. He brought your mother with him once."
               Gareth would always remember that day, where everything changed. Bao-yu had been staring at him, making it impossible for him to finish his lunch. Or to not stare back. Until she lagged behind the 'tour' her father was on and stepped up to ask him where he was from. Well, how could you not notice one Welshman among a hundred Chinese?
               "Wales?" Bao-yu had repeated, lips upturned in the slightest grin. "As in the animal?"
                "No." Gareth warned his eyes not to roll.
                "Where is this?" was her next question.
                "A hop west of London." 
                "She wanted to know about the world." Gareth summed it up. "We had that in common. And had our first date two nights later."
                 "Then you kissed?" Melody giggled, tilting her hazel eyes up at him.
                 "She told me the star names." Gareth redirected her. "And I told her about walking in the clouds."
                  Their talks became phone calls when Bao-yu went back to Choungquing. He'd agonized over a new conversational phrase each work day, prepping for the new chance to talk with her. A couple of the guys had ribbed him; most had warned him. Gareth had paid neither any attention. And if he hadn't... what then?
                  "So you bought her this for an anniversary?" Melody guessed, back to playing with the chain in her fingers. Gareth's throat dried as he shook his head. "No... that came later. Your grandfather... he found out and told us it was over. Told me to never speak to her again."
                  Melody was aware what estrangement meant because it was the explanation of why she'd never met her grandpa. Still holding Bao-yu's necklace, Melody put her hand in Gareth's. "He didn't like you?"
                   Gareth blew a reflective breath out. "Sometimes people have different ideas 'bout what'll make others happy. They forget it's something they have to decide it for themselves."
                   "What did you and Mama decide?" Melody jabbed at him.
                    "WHAT are you doing here?!" Bao-yu had cried in her most stressed English. Gareth had only smiled, fully in tune with his idiocy. "I came to talk to you." 
                    "I got myself to Choungquing as fast as I could." Gareth admitted, the adrenaline revisiting him. "Made myself look as non-creepy as possible, and took her out a second time.'
                    'Her father had me arrested the next day... I'd be deported or kept in jail if I asked her out again."
                    Gareth still felt the fear and desperation like it was yesterday. The injustice to Bae and him. Maybe they hadn't been thinking about marriage then, but he at least thought that she deserved to be happy. It wasn't until Bao-yu asked that he returned to Wales and to his family. All those miles though, and she wouldn't leave his mind, even when he prayed that she would. He started writing letters, only to throw them away. He remained a man with few words so filling up a whole page with them was a nightmare. Then he'd seen the necklace in a shop window. Two circles that couldn't be parted... Gareth had called her 'Bae' for the first time in the letter he sent it in. Telling her, if she was willing, that he would make this work.
                   "Did she write back?" Melody still followed along, eyes stayed on the sky.
                   "Both of us did. All winter." Gareth winced at the thought of his writing. But it'd been more covert then phones. "Used a secret address so her father wouldn't find out."
                    Melody shifted her head then, knees drawing up so she was cupped perfectly in his lap. "That was more scary then a first day of school?"
                     Lots of things about their courtship had been... many things in their marriage still were. The hassle of immigration, holding a job as Bae finished school... Gareth pulled his daughter in. "We were both afraid, but we didn't let that stop us. Your mother got her student visa... and we married."
                     "Eager beaver." Melody breathed out.
                     "I was actually more scared that day then I was any other." Gareth admitted. Melody knew about that day already. But this was the first time Gareth had even mentioned what he'd had to fear before their wedding.
                     He opened his mouth to continue, but then felt the rhythm of his daughter's slumber against his chest. He took another minute to watch the burning pins of light. Bao-yu referred to the stars as beacons pointing to the farthest reaches of the galaxy. They shone with the same mystery and brilliance as Bae's eyes. Gareth had dared to be brave enough to meet the soul of that person.
                   Did I teach our daughter anything about facing her fears? Gareth wondered, shuffling himself with Melody out of the chair. Or how they follow you... if you let them. 

THE END

The new year brings reflection... good and bad. We question our choices, wonder where the roads might've turned if we'd chosen differently. Some years we settle back in happiness and contentment  others in a thankfulness that the year's over and done with, while other years are met with indifference; the months weren't terrible, but they weren't thrilling either. Just another turning of the time tables.

Regardless, we fins ourselves in a state of meditation as Times Square holds its breath for the New Year to come bursting out of its starting gate. A state of reflection that God encourages. NOT to dwell in the past (Isaiah 43:16-19), but to be self-aware of who we are, what we're doing... and most importantly where we're going.

'When times are good, be happy;

but when times are bad, consider this: 

God has made one as well as the other.'

~Ecclesiastes 7:14~

This is the only life we have to live... so how are we remembering it?

Many Happy Returns

'For the Son of man is come

to seek and to save that which was lost.'

~Luke 19:10~

What changed in your life because someone was born?

My sister was born with I was three, but I remember apprehension, excitement, nervousness, and sadness when the nurse took her away to be bathed. All my emotions reserved for my parents and grandparents were now extended to another person. Someone I laugh with, annoy and tease, argue and cry with, but still sneak in a hug whenever I can!

My baby cousin (before he was six feet tall!) was born when I was ten, turning my sister and I into relentless doting 'aunts'. We fed him, dressed him up, and only let him fall down the stairs twice! His birth excited us, spurring purpose and joy at our family's turn to babysit him (only I'm guessing Mom changed most of the diapers).

A lot of my high school weekends become full when a family had a new baby for me to watch. I took on responsibility for a little person (or three), which included taking cute pictures, enforcing time outs and feeding schedules, buckling in car seats, and risking a heart attack whenever one of them got hurt.

Point being, everything about your actions and thoughts shift when a new personality is introduced. Consider that change... and then magnify it times a thousand. That's the change that came into the world with the birth of Jesus Christ. The angels were bursting with song, lowly shepherds had tears in their eyes, and wise men's hearts were humbled. They were all moved, recognizing that something great had taken place. Over two thousand years and His birth is still moving people because the purpose of His coming has not dampened. His conquer over death became our rescue from our sins.

Mercy, love, hope, comfort, and even courage... all because of a baby's birth in a stable. It continues to move me... my prayer is that it reaches you this Christmas. And that you grab it and hold on for all the future seasons of your life.

'This is our God; we have waited for Him, and He will save us.

This is the Lord; we have waited for Him, 

and we will be glad and rejoice in His salvation.'

~Isaiah 25:9~

Merry Christmas!

  

Fortress

A mighty fortress is our God

A bulwark never failing...

~Opening verse to 'A Mighty Fortress' by Martin Luther, 1527 (?)

Out of all of Luther's lyrics, 'A Mighty Fortress' is one of his most memorable. The lyrics are a paraphrase of Psalm 46, which starts out so famously;

'God is our refuge and strength,

an ever-present help in trouble.'

...and goes on to say...

'Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way 

and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,

though its waters roar and foam 

and the mountains quake with their surging.'

~verse 2-3~

The actual word 'fortress' is repeated seventeen times in the psalms; I've read these verses many times... and I've asked this question many times inbetween those readings. If God is our fortress, why do we continue to cry and get scared? How do we still cower in fear, give in to despair, and quiver with tears?

One, I believe that God doesn't raise his children to be stupid. The emotions of fear, anxiety, and sadness were planned out along with joy, peace, and comfort. They release our hearts from bearing too much, hone instincts which keep us from danger... these emotions- while not pleasant- strengthen our consciences just as happiness, love, and excitement are meant to do.

Two, when we do have to cry or feel fear, where do we do it? Under the covers of our bed, in a comfy chair in the den... curled up on the floor with your trusted furry friend. You do it in the safest place that you know of because you trust your tears, anger, and frustration within that space. Without judgement.

When God becomes our fortress, it isn't just our salvation, our stronghold and horn (strength). He's our fortress when we can't be. He also becomes our security to have our cries, our yells, and even our selfish moments:

'But I will sing of your strength, in the morning

I will sing of your love; for you are my fortress,

my refuge in times of trouble.'

~Psalm 59:16~ 

God becomes our fortress for all the parts of our lives. Because those are the parts that He loves and wants to guard for us.

36 Boxes

'Because of the service of which you have proved yourselves, 
others will praise God for the obedience that accompanies your confession of Christ, 
and your generosity in sharing them with everyone else... 
Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift!'
~2 Corinthians 9:13; 15~            

         
              "They're here!"
              Rex's attention was pulled form the current verse at the rushed squeal of excitement that rang through the hut. Had it come from Nadine or Leslie? The girls had slowly been growing stir-crazy this week, where the littlest thing convinced them of adventure. Rex blamed the new novels that Chloe had them reading for school. This time however, a moment after the squeal, Rex heard the coughing engine of the supply truck. He was up from his desk chair, immediately sharing in the girls' excitement.
             Throwing the rusty-red shirt over his tank top, Rex hurried out of what doubled as his study and his and Chloe's bedroom. Their hut was one of the few luxury homes that sported three rooms; and one of those rooms was the sanctuary out back. Rex turned the other way however, breaking into the gleaming sun. It had grown gentle with the late afternoon hours, a relief as the shadows never reached this side of their house. They had chosen it for the abnormal flat land it stood on. Subsequently, it also allowed his family a view of the only road in and out of the village. Anything else were worn paths, dusty on the hot days and muddy on the rainy ones... and traveled on all of them.
            The twenty some homes spanned along the lip of the valley, following the sweep of the land towards the lake. This was an area where, while the soil was rich, it had proved finicky over the years. Chloe and the other women, it had become their project, cultivating the land to bring food to the village, and a trade for its families. Rex gave a deep inhale, enjoying the familiar air in his lungs; recalling a time when it was more scary then familiar. My wife supplies the food... I supply the hope? 
            Boy, that sounded conceited! But his upcoming sermon was on purpose so he was being more analytical then usual. He had been dwelling heavily on his family's purpose- their life- here. It wasn't unlike the soil, unsure whether it could grow something or not. More then once, both Rex and Chloe had been positive that nothing would. That they had swept their son and daughter to a distant and dangerous country for no reason other then a misguided whim. But then a miracle would lend itself and the unlikely crops would sprout. Giving Rex as much hope as his neighbors.
            He couldn't take credit for the carving God had done... nor for the joy that was roaring up the road in the back of the supply truck. Rex stepped farther out as a crowd began to gather in their 'front yard'. He glimpsed Nadine swinging and jumping with Tinah, a new mother this year. Nadine doted over the baby when she wasn't in school with the other children. The children who would be receiving boxes this year! After so much waiting, letter writing, praying... Chloe!
            "Leslie!" Rex swept a glance over the crowd. His twelve year old whipped her head around, her merry golden braid falling over her shoulder. "Daddy, they're here!"
            So it had been her who squealed. Rex smiled, then pointed towards the fields. "Go tell your mother."
            Leslie beelined away, feet kicking up the dirt; she was barefoot again!? They had told her how many times not to-
            "Baba!" Nadine shook Rex's arm, her eyes and smile just as bright as her sister's. Her vocabulary switched from English to Swahili as she danced around him... to where he had to pull her back to avoid the path of the truck. Akello honked the horn over the rising voices as more and more families gathered. The older children jumped and grabbed at the wooden sides as he passed the house and braked. It was the equivalent of a roller coaster to them.
             "Welcome back!" Rex called out as Akello climbed out, his smile matching the chatter of the village. He immediately met Rex in a tight hug. Akello squeezed Rex's shoulders before turning his smiles to the villagers. "Krismasi kila mtu!"
             Everyone returned his yuletide greeting, following Akello to the tailgate and undoing the straps. Rex followed to where all attention was on the truck bed, stacked high with crates held fast by ropes and tarps. From within those crates, the red and green of the Christmas boxes peeked through. Eight-year-old Denis tried scrambling up for a closer look, but his father scooped him back.
             "If everyone can find their place in the circle!" Akello raised his voice, pulling Rex up beside him.
             "Akello! Rex!" Chloe popped around the engine, her hair in sweaty curls across her shoulders. "Leslie's screaming through the brush like the town crier!"
             "Baba's alway talking about patience." Nadine crossed over to hug her mother's arm. "She has none."
             Rex tried to give her a nogie. "And you have no humility."
             She squealed again, jumping out of reach. That delightful sound of energy and carefree confidence. Rex loved hearing it from all his children.
             "She and Bradley will want to be here for the blessing." Akello glanced around the circle that was forming. And soon enough, their son Bradley appeared with his teenage friend Janani- likely deciding whether or not to betray their excitement. Leslie had become anchored between the wrinkled hands of Edith and Gopou. The second grandparents of their second home. Rex's eyes followed the line of the townspeople as more faces and eager postures joined their circle. Tinah and her husband, Ochleng. Dembe and his little sister, Medrine. They eyed the boxes hungrily. As they had the year before... the first year that the boxes had come. Rex slipped his own hand into Chloe's; they are rough with soil, but remained tender to the touch. Chloe passed a knowing look to him. Could either of them believe how five months had turned into eight years? How these faces were now their neighbors and friends, selling along the trade road and sending their kids to school... and how their two children had become three with Nadine's adoption.
              "I say the prayer now!" Nadine squeezed Chloe's side, eyes shining. Rex laughed, holding up his free arm."Sifa zu Mungu tena! God's praises once again."
              It was a greeting the village had adopted some time ago. In one of their darkest times, it had become their cry of hope, perseverance, and a reminder to who reigned and loved them all. The response was immediate across their faces as they raised their fists and voices- literally swelling the air with elation to God. Rex waited.
              "I thank out Heavenly Father for these smilies," Akello suddenly called out. "We have walked through the dark deserts and valleys together... sometimes feeling alone and rejected." He swallowed hard, pointing skyward. "Now we know; God is always with us... and I am in awe."
               Rex glanced at his friend, but Nadine's beginning of the blessing stopped his questions. Many times, he allowed his congregation to speak as the Spirit moved them. Akello... was not often one of those people. But his rarity was easily overcome by Nadine's heartfelt voice. She sounded so much like Chloe, stripping down the pretenses of an almighty God and talking like she was on a father's knee. Bradley and Leslie were more formal like him. Rex didn't argue the difference however, letting her finish. He eyed Akello, then the back of the truck, where the boxes waited in their crates. One for each child that he and his family were watching grow, learn, and laugh. Rex could sit at the front of their classroom and name every boy and girl's strengths, what they wanted for Christmas and why. It was his wish that he could fulfill those wants... a wish he couldn't grant.
              But for a moment, when the lids were ripped off, the children's eyes would widen. Smiles would burst on their faces. And their hearts... their hearts would open a little more to the unsurpassed love of Christ.

THE END

This story was short, but that didn't make it any easier to write... this is the fourth draft, which is why it took so long to post! The shorter the story, the harder it is to write it correctly. Mainly because it's about capturing a moment from your mind and projecting that moment into full view for your readers. A moment that you want to mean as much to them as it does to you.

Birthdays, Easter, Anniversaries... 4th of July, Christmas... they're all about moments. Some of them joyous, hilarious, or eye rolling. Many others are heartbreaking, tearful, and angry. Sometimes, when you're writing, you stumble across how intricate God's work is and how He builds every kind of moment atop one another.

The moment Joseph decided to heed his dream and still marry the pregnant Mary.

That moment three thousand accepted Christ's message and were baptized after Pentecost.

The moment the wise men saw the uncharted star... and felt the need to follow it.

That moment Herod ordered the innocence of Bethlehem to be slaughtered.

The moment Mary choose to sit at Jesus' feet and listen.

Those moments where Jesus went willingly with the Roman soldiers.... waited... kept quiet... and allowed himself to die in slow pain on the cross.

When writing out my 'moment stories', I hope to honor God's significant work in life's moments- the good and the bad. Those moments that come before Christmas, after New Years', and during every weekday and weekend in between.