Tara Story.

     

This is a repeat post, one I love to repeat.  

(1994)  How different it feels to be completing our third year at the MK school in Bolivia.  Our daughter was in the 10 grade and our son in the 6th grade when we went  to the field. We were warned how hard it would be, especially on our teenage daughter, to take her away from the familiar to the unfamiliar.  Nothing could have prepared us for the months of crying and depression that came as a result of our move overseas.  Like a child with an open, bleeding wound, she told us, I know it is God's will that we are in Bolivia, but Gods will still hurts me.  All the fears of what this move could do to our daughter filled our minds those first few months.  Thoughts of going back to the states and returning to a ministry there kept crossing our minds.  Daily we prayed, Please God, do something,  ease her hurt. Replace it with your love. You can read what took place, as she tells it in  her own words.

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      As I sit in the dorm, I look back over the past three years.  God has done a tremendous work in my life.  When Dad told us that we were going overseas, I wanted to run away.  I was just stepping into high school.  I was on the cheerleaders team and liked a boy.  Everything that a teen could want I was getting.  But Dad's decision tore my life apart.  Soon my anger turned to my parents, then to God. I stopped praying and having devotions because I felt like God had hurt me.  All though missionary training and language school as my parents went through the New Tribes Mission training program, my heart was hardened to what God wanted my family to do.

   When we stepped into the Miami airport I knew it was my last chance to run. I even prayed for the plane to crash, or for a hijacking just so we would not have to go.  Well, nothing happened, (only a few air pocket, and soon we arrived in Santa Cruz, Bolivia.  From the beginning I hated Bolivia. Not anything particulate, but the whole country. I DID NOT WANT TO BE IN BOLIVIA!!

   It was like that for the first semester. Then during our second semester, my sophomore class went on a camping trip.  We had to hitch a ride on a passing truck to get where we were going.  Sitting next to me on the truck was a Bolivian baby girl.  I'm known for loving babies and kids,  so started to play with her.  She kept smiling and laughing. Then it suddenly struck me, "Tara this little girls is why you are here".   "Who is going to tell this child about Christ when she grows up?"  Right then, I knew why God had called my family to Bolivia.  I will never forget that little girl's face and the need she had for a Savior.   Tara Draper
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We have shared that story many times with those taking their children overseas.  It is risky, no matter their age. One must count the cost of serving God this way in those kinds of locations.  No matter the location of your body, you must deal with your own children.  Tara was not in sin, she was just plain homesick. Oh, she was mad at God , we told her, He can handle it.  Our hearts broke with every tear she shed.

I have been told there  are a few children that look forward to a move, but let me say,  this is extremely rare.  If you don't believe me, just ask, wait, that is the wrong word, " tell" your teen,  we are moving!  Even if that child struggles in school socially, they at least know the rules and know the players. There is some safely in that.  In our passion to go, we forgot at times it was not their passion.  Missionary kids, MK"s as we call them will say good-by to more significant people by age 18 than the average person will in a life time. 

We ask her to start the second semester of school and if she still wanted to go home at the end of the semester we would go.  I think this gave her hope which left her heart open to hear what God was going to do through that little Bolivia girl on the truck.    

“Radical obedience to Christ is not easy... It's not comfort, not health, not wealth, and not prosperity in this world. Radical obedience to Christ risks losing all these things. But in the end, such risk finds its reward in Christ. And he is more than enough for us.” 
― David Platt, 

   

Tara Story.

     (1994)  How different it feels to be completing our third year at the MK school in Bolivia.  Our daughter was in the 10 grade and our son in the 6th grade when we went  to the field. We were warned how hard it would be, especially on our teenage daughter, to take her away from the familiar to the unfamiliar.  Nothing could have prepared us for the months of crying and depression that came as a result of our move overseas.  Like a child with an open, bleeding wound, she told us, I know it is God's will that we are in Bolivia, but Gods will still hurts me.  All the fears of what this move could do to our daughter filled our minds those first few months.  Thoughts of going back to the states and returning to a ministry there kept crossing our minds.  Daily we prayed, Please God, do something,  ease her hurt. Replace it with your love. You can read what took place, as she tells it in  her own words.

      As I sit in the dorm, I look back over the past three years.  God has done a tremendous work in my life.  When Dad told us that we were going overseas, I wanted to run away.  I was just stepping into high school.  I was on the cheerleaders team and liked a boy.  Everything that a teen could want I was getting.  But Dad's decision tore my life apart.  Soon my anger turned to my parents, then to God. I stopped praying and having devotions because I felt like God had hurt me.  All though missionary training and language school as my parents went through the New Tribes Mission training program, my heart was hardened to what God wanted my family to do.

   When we stepped into the Miami airport I knew it was my last chance to run. I even prayed for the plane to crash, or for a hijacking just so we would not have to go.  Well, nothing happened, (only a few air pocket, and soon we arrived in Santa Cruz, Bolivia.  From the beginning I hated Bolivia. Not anything particulate, but the whole country. I DID NOT WANT TO BE IN BOLIVIA!!

   It was like that for the first semester. Then during our second semester, my sophomore class went on a camping trip.  We had to hitch a ride on a passing truck to get where we were going.  Sitting next to me on the truck was a Bolivian baby girl.  I'm known for loving babies and kids,  so started to play with her.  She kept smiling and laughing. Then it suddenly struck me, "Tara this little girls is why you are here".   "Who is going to tell this child about Christ when she grows up?"  Right then, I knew why God had called my family to Bolivia.  I will never forget that little girl's face and the need she had for a Savior.   Tara Draper
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We have shared that story many times with those taking their children overseas.  It is risky, no matter their age. One must count the cost of serving God this way in those kinds of locations.  No matter the location of your body, you must deal with your own children.  Tara was not in sin, she was just plain homesick. Oh, she was mad at God , we told her, He can handle it.  Our hearts broke with every tear she shed.

I have been told there  are a few children that look forward to a move, but let me say,  this is extremely rare.  If you don't believe me, just ask, wait, that is the wrong word, " tell" your teen,  we are moving!  Even if that child struggles in school socially, they at least know the rules and know the players. There is some safely in that.  In our passion to go, we forgot at times it was not their passion.  Missionary kids, MK"s as we call them will say good-by to more significant people by age 18 than the average person will in a life time. 

We ask her to start the second semester of school and if she still wanted to go home at the end of the semester we would go.  I think this gave her hope which left her heart open to hear what God was going to do through that little Bolivia girl on the truck.    

“Radical obedience to Christ is not easy... It's not comfort, not health, not wealth, and not prosperity in this world. Radical obedience to Christ risks losing all these things. But in the end, such risk finds its reward in Christ. And he is more than enough for us.” 
― David Platt, 

   

SEEMED IMPOSSIBLE

Many have ask  me to write about  our time serving the Lord overseas.  So to do that I thought I would start with a prayer card.
There we are, fresh, excited, ready to begin the adventure of dorm parenting.

First, lets back up a little... we were heading to another country, not Bolivia, SA.  God changed our direction by a need in the New Tribes Mission boarding school, Tambo in Bolivia, South America.  After talking to our pastor about this possible change of direction he was confident God had trained us for this kind of ministry.  We had always worked with children and teens at our home church. This was April, 1991,  the leadership ask us to consider going to be dorm parents and they wanted us there in August 1991. We had two more months of training with New Tribes.  And two months to raise financial support...SEEMED IMPOSSIBLE.

We arrived in Bolivia seven days before school started  We flew into Santa Cruz,  spent the night at our mission guest house.  Next morning we boarded a bus for about 40  people with over 60 people on it.  To say it was close quarters is an understatement. STILL SEEMED IMPOSSIBLE.

Our daughter was a 10th grader struggling with homesickness already which took all the adventure out of that bus ride.  After six hours we headed down our last mountains,  we could see the lights of the boarding school.  Then just like that, they went out and one of the other missionaries said, oh the generator just went off at Tambo.   Hello, welcome to darkness...

Our daughter groaned and our son, 6th grade was quieter then usual as we headed to the boarding school.   And I was not feeling adventurous either.  Six hours on a crowded bus with all the smells, sweat , wood smoke, tobacco, chicken poop, other poop, urine, and unknown smells along with a  bumpy roads had my stomach churning  the chicken foot soup we ate at one of the bus stops. .

But at last we were there, Bienvendedo  Tambo, Welcome to Tambo the school sign said.  Our family along with about six other missionaries families got off the bus in darkness with only a few stars helping us see.    The only other light was the flashlight from the one  person who walked us to our houses.  We were six thousand feet above sea level in the foot hills of the Andre's mountain, it was cold.  The helpers on the bus threw our duffel bags down from the top of the bus along with everyone else bags.  The thought of looking around where we were going to call home for seven to eight years was not appealing and besides, remember, the generator was off, no lights.  We did the only sensible  thing, crawled into bed with our clothes on and tried to sleep. It was cold.  IT REALLY SEEMED IMPOSSIBLE.

As I woke the next morning my eyes lit on a huge crack in our bedroom wall, running from top to bottom of the wall and all I could think about was, any kind of bug, critter could come through that crack which they did.  Another story , another time.

Ace I  roused the kids up and we went to a good breakfast fixed by staff who was already there. After a few instructions  we were finally able to view where we would live. I love to tell people I lived in a an 11 bedroom house during our years at Tambo. And that is the truth, it did have 11 bedrooms.  A huge bathroom with four toilets, and four showers off the back of our house for the high school guys that would live in those 10 extra bedrooms.  A huge living room with a great fireplace ( no furnance) to take the chill off in those cold evenings, a dining room and kitchen.  We had our own living room off our bedroom and bath.  And an extra bath in the hallway.  Ok, enough room for all of us, me, my husband, our son and, like I said 16 high school guys. The day the guys arrived our daughter went to live in the high school girls dorm, just a building away from us.   That part seemed the most impossible to adjust to, for us and her too.

The day finally arrive and off a huge bus and from cars and small single wing planes came all sizes of children.  All the high school guys arrived, from five different nationalities, some came with their parents, some came alone but they all came.  This was a Sat, just a week from when we arrived.  STILL SEEMED IMPOSSIBLE.  But each guy and the parents who came made us feel welcome and before we knew it was Monday, the parents had left  and the first day of school started.  While the guys were in school some of the staff met with us to explain how Tambo operated.  They assured us we would get the hang of it and we did.  That first night with the guys we had devotions and a time of just getting to know a little about each other.  Our biggest concern was trying to remember their names.  Before we knew it the lights went out and we all went to bed, we survived our first day. We were responsible for 16 high school guys that year which was over whelming. Remember though we still have two children. Our son Jared could stay in our dorm in a bedroom closest to us.  Our daughter was in the high school girls dorm, being terrible homesick.  THIS SEEMS IMPOSSIBLE.

The school was located 150 miles from a city either direction.  It sit off the Panamanian Highway which was only dirt road by the time it got to us.  Mountains were surrounding us, but they were not filled with green trees and foliage.  The Tambo Valley was a dry desert with cactus everywhere, much like Arizona.  If you ever watched the movie Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, well they were killed not far from our school.   So we were pretty remote with only little villages scattered all over the valley.   We had to wonder why in the world did New Tribes locate the school there?  Well, when  land is given  free you just make the best of it and they had certainly did that.  Our buildings  were made with adobe bricks with plastered walls and floors were concrete.  Sounds kind of drab doesn't it and it would be if it were  not full of kids ranging from first grade to twelfth grade and probably 30 some staff, some teachers, their families, dorm parents, cooks, we even had our own farm run by a missionary from the states.  They pasteurized the milk, made all our cheese, raised pigs, cattle and the hay to feed the cattle. We bought our veggies and fruit from the local markets.  The place grew on us each day. It was a simple life, not complicated by what cities life bring and pretty soon it DID NOT SEEM IMPOSSIBLE, except for our daughter getting adjusted. But I'll write about that next time.

What are you facing that seems impossible?  

Get up, try again...

For the past year we have been watching our one year old grandson, Reedley learning to walk.  His ability to fall, stumbled, get up, fall again, over and over and over has finally produced walking up right for longer periods of time with less falling.  There were times when he just screams in frustration when he wants help and it does not come fast enough or times when he doesn't want help.

Taking care of him is a challenge because he is able to get around so well without any fear.  Often, we put up a make shift barrier to keep him confined to one room but his wiggly body is like a mini contortionist, he always finds a way out.

His face shows the wear and tear of any  one year old boy fighting life battles with floor, chairs, siblings, objects. But the smile that burst out through the bruises and bumps is just about as close to heaven as one can get here on earth.

Soon, sooner they we would like, he will run through life,  gaining more knowledge from each fall and tumble, learning how to jump over objects in his way, like superman, able to leap tall buildings.

He'll think he can do it on his own and we who love him know some lessons are only learned by stumbling under the weight of self.  Unknown to him at this time of  his life parents and grandparents are watching out for him.  

Just watching this process has encouraged my heart for there is no age limit to falling and getting back up again.  To Reedley, a fall down a few stairs may be the biggest trial he faces today.  They will get bigger though, the wounds will go deeper and scars are not just for the one year old.

This song is a reminder to this older child of God, that I am not  alone in this journey, He is always watching me.   Sometimes  He put barriers out there to protect me, sometimes He  allows me to fall but He will always be there to pick me up with His promises. 
Romans 8:18 - For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time [are] not worthy [to be compared] with the glory which shall be revealed in us.

Saved

The pictures is not the clearest but the it's clear enough to give a strong message of how important what New Tribes calls, "holding the ropes" for our missionaries is.  

I wrote several things that came to me as I viewed it and  deleted it.  Why, because I want to hear your response to it.  

Ok, comments please. 

Wisdom on a napkin

Due to our ministry as Member Care Reps we travel a lot which means we eat out a lot.  As we meet with missionaries on home assignment (known as furlough), I gleam a lot of wisdom from each one of them.   As we sit over good food and cup of coffee, I am always looking for something to write on when I leave my notebook in the car. eager to catch a thought I will grab anything and start scribbling.   I no longer trust my memory and have been known to write even on my arm when there is no paper or napkin.

I don't know which couple we were meeting with when something they said caused me to write this down.
.

"Work out your salvation, not work for your salvation".   

What a load that phrase lifts off my shoulders for I know I could never work enough to be pleasing before the Lord.  In the working out my salvation there comes failure to be obedient and then I become discouraged.  Th enemy of my soul would like for me to believe God is discouraged with me too.

Recently I read a message from Isaiah 42:2 that blessed my heart and made it easier to "work out my salvation". He is never discouraged because He is God and He knows the work He begun in me He will finish.  God does not, can not, will not fail so He cannot become discouraged when we fail in our progress of growing in Him.


He has known from eternity past where the planets would be in their orbits right at this moment. He has known all along our  government and world would be in this mess, yet He is not downcast or  frustrated or uncertain how things will turn out. In fact, He has not only known these thing, but has ordained them.

I love this illustration:  When a parent stays calm during a problem their children will draw from that. But if a parent  is distressed, whining and fearful  those  children  will usually fall apart completely as they watch their parent come undone.  But a calm, confident, assured  parents speaks volumes to  the children.  Their actions and words  will remind them, it's ok, it will be alright,  do not be afraid,  I've got you,  those children will usually calm down even though the situation might not be the best. 

Our Heavenly Father has no fear about what is happening in your life right now, or in mine.  He is not callous or indifferent, He is utterly confident and competent to fulfill His promise to us, that the work He has begun in us, He will finish.  He will not be discouraged with us.  That calms my soul and brings freedom as I work out my salvation.

Tears Will Never Stain the Streets of That City

  Loss involves change, change involves loss. Loss involves death of one kind or another.  In II Corinthians 4:11 Paul says, For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus sake, so that His life may be revealed in our mortals body.  "Every time we are delivered over to a death of any kind, we encounter a challenge to allow the loss to bring gain for Jesus sake.  

Our Father would never allow our hearts to break for trivial reasons. And He does not want us to waste it either or lose our faith because of a loss. And He does not want us to be in bondage to our loss to where we are rendered ineffective for Christ.  

The life of a Christian is never about sameness. It's always about change. That's why we must learn to survive and once again thrive when change involves heartbreaking loss.  We're being conformed to the image of Christ in our losses.  

"Joy and effectiveness may seem to pause for a while as grief takes it's course, but those who allow their broken hearts to be bound by Christ will experience them again. Our Savior is the God of resurrection life,   no matter what kind of death has occurred in life of any believer."
Beth Moore

Almost daily I am ask how I am doing since my mother died.  I always answer the same, "I am doing well most of the time.  But there are days I will on purpose listen to a song such as the one below to remind me this grief I feel is not forever.    Our tears are a gift from the Father for here and my goodness can I let them flow as I take in the precious truth of songs that remind me my loss is not in vain.   

What song or songs do you turn to when loss enters your life?  

God Loves Seekers

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People aren't argued into salvation, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't be informed and educated. It also doesn't mean you can't have healthy , vibrant discussions or debates. Just keep in mind that (ultimately) it's God's sovereign power, truth, and love that changes a life. Above all, focus on being an expert in His truth and love. Allow God's Holy Spirit to do the internal arguing and convincing for you. 

Bottom line: We depend on the supernatural work of God, not on our persuasive abilities. Bobby Conway

About three weeks ago I was on a plane heading to Illinois to be with my mother who was dying so my heart was heavy.   I did not pray, God give me a good seat mate, someone I can talk Jesus with for I was in no shape to really talk to anyone.  

Even before we took off the man sitting next to me started the usual conversation one has on a plane when forced to sit close to someone you don't know.  Are you from California?  Why are you going to St. Louis?  Then, I ask the man, why are you going to St. Louis?  What he told me was so interesting I had to ask more questions and soon we begin to get past the first level of getting to know a perfect stranger.  I don't even know when the conversation turned to spiritual things but it did turn.  His interest in science was impressive, especially  as he explained how scientist are  studying "life after death" , and they don't have an answer yet.  But they are sure there is something out there.  The fact they are seeking impressed me, God loves seekers, the wise men were seekers, all who went to hear Jesus speak were seekers.   The man I sat next to was a seeker. 

I am several weeks away from that plane encounter and having time now to look into  some articles on why science is seeking life after death.  Today I ran across an article by John Lennox, an Oxford mathematician, a scientist, a Christian.    He was debating this topic:

                                             Can Faith and Science Coexist?  

"THE MATHEMATICAL INTELLIGIBILITY OF NATURE IS EVIDENCE FOR A RATIONAL SPIRIT BEHIND THE UNIVERSE." JOHN LENNox

First,  I was amazed that I could grasped some of what Lennox was saying in this debate, his vocabulary is enormous.  Second, I am thrilled to know there are Christians involved in the lives of other scientist.  

I probably will never see that gentleman I met  again, but our conversation sparked an interest to seek out information into what does scientist believe about God and the here after?   Here is the bottom line, I want to be able to discuss difference between beliefs and come away from it knowing I was able to honor God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit in my words.   I do not have to prove anything to anybody, I just have to give out truth in love, and leave the rest to God. Not one thing the man said made me doubt my faith in God or believing Jesus is the only way.   "There is something there" and  I know who it is, I know the one who created whats out there.  And in some ways it gave comfort in a time when my heart was heavy knowing I was facing seeing my mother leave this earth.  I stepped into her nursing home room ready to be there for her because God was there for me.  

In this debate John Lennox was defending his belief in God over  the deep issue of  suffering on this earth from a Christian perspective and I love his answer.

 Is there anywhere evidence of the existence of a God whom I can trust with this deep issue? Yes. At the heart of Christianity there is a cross. The central claim of Christianity is that Jesus Christ is God incarnate – which raises the question: what is God doing on a cross? At the very least that shows me that God has not remained distant from human suffering but has become part of it. Furthermore, Christ rose from the dead, which is a guarantee that there is to be a future judgement. This is a marvelous hope, because it means that our conscience is not an illusion, and those who terrorize, abuse, exploit, defame and cause their fellow humans untold suffering will not get away with it. Atheism has no such hope--for it ultimate justice is an illusion.

Wish he had been on that plane and part of the conversation I had.  But God took this heavy hearted simple women and gave her the privilege of talking Jesus with someone.  You know I am praying for this man...he said, I gave him some things to think about.  

The Dash

On April 9th we buried my mother.  Culturally where I am from, the family stand to the side of the casket as people file past paying their respect.  Each one spoke quiet comforting words, some even told funny stories about my Mom so there was laughter at times, she would love that.   

  

So many said they were praying  strength for us as we grieved  Mom's passing.  Finally everyone had passed by and was seated for the start of the service.  My husband started it off with a story that made everyone laugh.  I had the honor to tell Mom's salvation story and how that gave me strength to let her go.  Then I shared how so many  try to find their strength in a bottle but the bottle always gets empty.  The Spirit of God never empties us, He stays in our soul and take us to heaven leaving our shell which is all we see in that casket.  The pain of losing a love one varies. For those who have no hope where their love one will go is not a grief that I will struggle with. As Paul said, to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord. There will be a missing her grief for sure. 

My nephew gave the message on how our  life is that "dash" on our tombstone.  My mother dash was 89 years.   The dash symbolizes our entire life and we are the only one responsibility for what we do with it.  There is not enough space to write about all my Mom's life contained in that dash.  Even though she wanted to get out of the nursing home she still would give comfort to those around her.  The nurses would always tell me, your Mom is the friendliest person we have here, talks to everyone, what a legacy to live us.    So when she stopped doing that, starting staying in bed, not going to the singing's and the bingo we knew she was in the early process of dying.  Her mind gradually went back to  when her Mom and Dad were alive and it was great place to live for they loved her dearly. 

Of course all this stirs the heart to thinking about my own life, what do I want my legacy to be?  As I watched my son sit by his grandma bed singing old hymns she loved  and  my daughter laying next to her grandma singing to her, stroking her, kissing on her I think I know how my kids will treat me and their Dad when our day comes to leave this earth. 
I read this recently, "Everything I do in this life will be passed on to our children.  My ceiling will be their floor".  And I still have some time left to raise my ceiling.  

Thank you to all who prayed for my Mom, me and the family.  Those prayers brought heaven to earth often in the last two weeks.   

How are you doing in your dash?

   

Serenaded By Angels [Live]

                         

I cannot tell you how many times I have sung the song on this post at funerals,  enough that all my family has ask for it to be sang at their funerals, including my mother.

A few days ago we made the decision for me to go home and be with my mother while she could still know who I was. She is in the last stage of dying, her body is shutting down, hardly talks, eats no more then two bits of food offered her, moans a lot, cries out when the nurses move her. Today the decision was made to start her on morphine so she will be comfortable in this last stage.

Family and friends living in her home town hearing she is close to death stopped by today as I sit with her.  In a hushed voice I tried to explain how she is doing, many cried,  shocked at how fast she went down hill.  Bending down close to her face, each one gave her a kiss and said, I love you Mildred before they left her room.

I received several phone calls from family living long distance with  questions, should I come now,  how long do you think she will last?   Countless times I repeated what the Hospice nurse told me.  As hard as I tried I could not contained the tears from over flowing my eyes. It  feels like I am stuck between two places.     It's in that place my grief resides, wanting her to stay here yet wanting her to go on, to be out of pain.

Hospice has been great at helping us cope with the process of Mom dying.  Her body does not need physically energy that comes from food, the body is too frail to use it. So it's ok for her not to want to eat. .  According to Hospice a different energy is needed now, a spiritual energy.    At this point the one dying literally has one foot in each world, heaven and earth.   As she enters into the last stage of dying certain things will happen that are reserved for the end of life here unless it is a sudden death.

I as sitting right next to Mom as I type this, she is sleeping, not hurting at this moment because of the great meds.   I have watched a person in a remote place die,  no doctors, no nurse, no meds, it's not pretty and it's haunts you for the rest of your life but also brings a gratefulness in times like this because your loved one can have it all

Sometimes I stroke her hair, or  hold her warm hand, knowing soon that warmth will be leaving.  Her frail dress of flesh still holds life and because there is life she knows my voice and tries to open her eyes.  For months now she has been asking to go see her Mom and Dad who are dead.  No matter how deep her sleep is when you try to wake her, she will call out for her Mom.   I whisper in her ear now,   soon Mom you will see them, soon.  Just saying  those words fill me with courage to let her go.   it causes me to pray for God's mercy on her life..let it be quick, don't let her linger around this old earth, don't keep her in the dress of flesh, her robe of righteousness is hanging, waiting for her.

  In a weakened voice she ask  me to stay with her tonight so here I sit, writing to protect my mind and heart.  Somehow it calms me to put my feelings into words. Today my sister in law and I  picked out her burial clothes, talk about how we wanted the service to go,  who would do what.  Tonight I went through her things in her room at the nursing home, cleaned out closets, drawers, threw some stuff away, saved some things for this one and that one, you know those things ones does as we wait for a loved one to leave this world.  I am amazed at the strength God gave me to do that.  Sometimes I sing the song on this post, thanking Him that my daughter, her first Grandchild will be here to sing it.

I think I can stop now, the flow of words are ceasing to come and all that comes to my mind is, pray.