diary entry – nate and josh

Number one grandson, Nate, is spending a few days with his uncle Josh. I\’m sure they will have a lot of fun. I remember when Nate was born and Josh was coming to see him. He had said he\’d be home in the morning. When i got up around 6:30 to help Jenni with Nate, i looked out the window and there in front of the house sat Josh, asleep in his car. He had been so excited to meet Nate that he drove down and got to our house about 5 in the morning. Not wanting to wake us up, he just went to sleep in the car until we got up. Somewhere in my stack of pictures, i have one of Nate asleep on Josh\’s chest. It\’s where Nate slept the first six months of his life, on somebody\’s chest. We spoiled that child to pieces.

So Nate is with Josh. Josh will take him to the movies, to a ballgame, to play with the dog, and just generally teach him how a good man lives his life. I\’m glad Nate has Josh and Dave (hubby) to be examples for him. He has a real chance at succeeding in life with these two men to encourage him.

diary entry – blah day

i\’m not sure why, but i feel a bit depressed tonight. maybe i\’m just tired. nothing happened today to cause me to feel this way. in fact, the evening service was wonderful and worshipful. the teens did an excellent job of their number tonight. they performed under blacklight to Arise My Love. i tell you honestly, it was a very worshipful experience. more than one person was crying by the end of that number. so why do i feel sad?

ah, maybe i\’m just tired. i\’ll feel better tomorrow, i\’m sure.

The Wedding of Holly and Chris

\"\"After making sure that our grandson was safely tucked in his bed on Thursday (after his tonsillectomy), Dave and I headed off to Tennessee to the wedding of our niece, Holly. We traveled halfway and stopped outside of Knoxville for the night. aside:At the Holiday Inn Express, we slept on one of the most comfortable beds of our lives. If I could have figured out a way to get that mattress in our car, trust me, I would have done it.

We arrived in Nashville Friday afternoon. The festivities began that evening with a ballgame and cookout, courtesy of Chris and Holly. Don\’t even ask me who played. I was just there hanging out with my family, and enjoying the daylights out of myself.

Saturday started off with breakfast with my two sisters. Judy had to leave after that to get ready for the evening, and Veniva and I hung out. Yes, I said V E N I V A (Short story, very funny, I\’ll tell you in another blog). I caught up with hubby around lunchtime, and we spent the rest of the day together, until time to leave for the mansion.

Before you know it, it was time for the wedding. It was outside, the weather was perfect, the service was beautiful. The people were beautiful. My sister looked like a statuesque goddess. Holly was stunning in her wedding gown and looked so much like her mother coming down the aisle, I could have cried. Amber, my other niece, and the maid of honor, was as beautiful as a person could be, and she looked so happy. The groom was in his uniform, and in case I haven\’t said it lately, I think men in uniform are very cool. God bless our military.

My sweet hubby performed the ceremony, and it went off without a hitch. Hmm, wrong word. Okay, then, it went off WITH a hitch–Chris and Holly.

Actually, Chris and Holly were already married. They had a very small ceremony in their home in December 2007, just before Chris was deployed overseas. But they wanted to have a big, formal ceremony to share with their friends the commitment they have made to love each other for the rest of their lives. They did it in real style, and I, for one, will not forget the joy of that day.

God bless you, Holly and Chris. May you always be as full of joy with each other as you were on this very special day.

Are My Tonsils Out Yet?

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Today, number one grandson Nate had his tonsils and adenoids removed. This is a fairly routine procedure, and all went well.

When we got to the tonsil-taking-out place, they took Nate back, put him in a little gown and gave him some 90-proof something or other to \”take the edge off.\”

He told his mama, \”I\’m tired, and these warm blankets might make me go to sleep, but they aren\’t gonna get me with this medicine.\” Right. Then they let him choose the stuffed animal of his choice out of their toy barrel. He chose a chinchilla and proceeded to take it through the motions….. \”go chinchilla, it\’s your birthday, do the happy dance, it\’s your birthday\” (nope, that medicine was not working at all! wink, wink).

All was well for awhile. The nurses came in and introduced themselves to Nate, the anesthesiologist came in and talked with him, the 14-year-old doctor came in and talked to him. They had a good repoire, since they were so close in age and all. When they finally came to take him back, he got through kissing mama and me, and then grand\”daddy\” leaned over to kiss him. He started crying and tried to get out of bed, as if he really thought he could walk with that happy juice in him. I tucked him back in and darn if some of his tears didn\’t start falling out of my eyes! It was the weirdest thing.

The procedure went well, as I said earlier. In recovery, he was a mess. He kept trying to rub his nose, because the anesthesia was making him itch. He cried for a few seconds and then he\’d go to sleep. Then he\’d wake up again and cry some more. We gave him water, sprite, an icicle, orange sherbet, more water, and more pain medicine. That finally kicked in and he slept for a while until time to go home.

I have to say, I was completely impressed with the staff at the tonsil-taking-out-place. They were extremely professional and totally caring of Nate. The nurse who took him from the room to the operating area spoke softly and calmly to him all the way down the hall, comforting him and telling him exactly what was going to be happening. And his post-op nurse was wonderful. The genuine look of concern on her face for Nate\’s well-being was overwhelming. It was as if she was taking care of her own child. She was gentle, kind, patient. She answered all our questions, all his questions (which he asked over and over). She took great care to share with Jenni what was going to happen in the next couple of weeks and went over the care sheets line by line. When Nate asked if he could see his tonsils, she called and asked someone to bring them for him to see. They were sealed inside a little bottle. The looked like mini-golf balls–no joke. HUGE. Which is why he had to have them removed, actually. He took one look at them and cried.

\”Why are you crying?\” I asked. \”Because my tonsils are gone forever,\” he wept. Clearly still under the influence of the meds.

He\’s such a special boy, that grandson of ours. We are thankful he won\’t sound like Darth Vader anymore when he breathes.

The 80-Year Rule

Several girls in the youth group have \”gifted\” themselves with a tattoo upon turning 18. They get them on their shoulders, upper back, or neck. Just this weekend, I saw two new tattoos on my girls.

\”That looks pretty,\” I told one of the girls. \”And when you are an old woman, it will be really pretty down around your waist.\”

We all laugh, but come on, girls, we all know exactly where that tattoo is going to end up, right?

Later that day, when I was talking to another youth leader about it, she told me that she has implemented the 80-year rule in making many decisions. \”When I am 80,\” she asks herself, \”how will I feel about this decision?\” That\’s pretty good, I think, especially when it comes to our bodies.

It\’s no secret that as we age, our bodies…drift. I still have a vivid memory of the morning I looked into the mirror as I was drying my hair and realized I could no longer see certain body parts. They had started the slow slide–and it\’s been downhill ever since!

Think about your face. After a while it begins to hang off your jaw bone. Your neck shrivels and begins to look like a prune, if you can find it behind your face. If, at some point in your youth you had your cheek or your lip pierced, and you still haven\’t grown up enough to take it out, you might have trouble finding it later on in life. If you even remember that you had it to begin with. Your arms–oh my goodness!–your arms! One reason we older women are called angels is because when we raise our arms it appears we have \”wings\”.

Here a few things we might want to consider in the 80-Year Rule plan:
-Tattoos of any kind will eventually melt with your skin into something unrecognizable and undesirable.
-Tattooed-on eyelashes will become part of the wrinkles on your cheek, resembling skin cancer/liver spots.
-Nothing lovlier than tattooed-on red lips against an ash white face, right?
-That heart above your breast will end up around your waist.

And piercings! belly-button piercing will be covered by your—um, nevermind.
Don\’t even want to think where piercings in other body parts will end up, but I can tell you, you might get lots of compliments about that unusual knee piercing (you get my drift, right? –pun intended).

Let\’s see…Well, those artificial body parts, for instance. Consider all the plastic folks are putting into their body in an effort to stay young looking. Now, consider all those parts that aren\’t artificial wrinkling and jiggling around the fake stuff. My personal opinion is that older women who are \”enhanced\” are more unbecoming than those who choose to age naturally. Others may hold a different view on that, but this is my blog, so there.

In honor of growing older, and as a way to laugh through the pain ;o)))), I have developed a new line of clothing called Landslide! Someday soon, I\’ll post pics of the items I have developed so far.

Seriously, though, there are life-altering decisions that could stand the test of the 80-Year Rule. I\’ll blog about those later. I have to clock back in to work, now.

The Boss


(When Nate was four years old)

On the way home from church, my 4-year-old grandson asked, \”Grandma, when we get home today, can I help daddy mow?\” (Daddy is his granddaddy, my husband).

\”No,\” I told him, \”we don\’t mow on Sundays.\”

\”Why not?\” he asked.

\”Sunday is our day of rest. God doesn\’t want us to mow grass today.\”

\”Why do we have to do what God says?\” he wondered.

\”Because God is the boss,\” I told him.

Huffily, he replied, \”God is not the boss!\”

I questioned him. \”Then who is God?\”

\”God is GOD.\”

\”And then who is the boss?\”

\”I am the boss,\” he told me matter-of-factly.

After I finished laughing at that, I made sure he understood that God is God, and He is also the boss. The problem is that as a first-born child, this grandson of mine really does think he\’s the boss!

It may be funny coming from the mouth of a little child, but it can quickly lose its humor when we take ourselves too seriously and become our own bosses. I wonder how many of us live our lives like that. “God is God,” we say, “but I am the boss. I\’ll figure this out for myself, I\’ll take care of this problem without any help; and if I get into a really big mess, then I\’ll ask God for help.”

The first man, Adam, gave over authority to Eve and forgot–or ignored–the words of the Boss. And consider Abraham, who let Sarah become his boss, instead of waiting for his promised child, as he\’d been instructed by the Boss. Then there’s David, who let lust become his boss and made a huge mess of his life. There’s even one fellow in the Scriptures who had to be reminded who was the boss by an ass! The Bible is full of folks who took unauthorized authority over their lives, so at least we\’re in good company, right?

In the book of Isaiah, God said it over and over, “I am God, there is none other. Listen to Me.”

Wonder how many times He’ll have to say it to me before I finally get the message?

(c) 2005

This Is Not the Life I Requested

When I began my new life in Christ over 30 years ago, I have to admit, I thought it would be different. I’m not sure what I expected—well, that’s not exactly true—I expected my life to smooth itself out. I expected problems to be minimal, if at all. And I expected that–after the totally dysfunctional life in which I’d grown up–I should have a really good life. I thought I “deserved” it.

Boy, was I wearing “rose-colored” glasses, or what?

Life has pushed, pulled, tossed, ripped and beat me to pieces. People I love have broken my heart and devastated my life. Friends have laughed with me one moment and turned their backs to me the next. I have found my life wanting in many ways, not the least of which would be the need for just one moment of peace. And lately, I’ve felt truly kicked in the tail by life in general.

Wonderful experiences have also been a part of my life. I’ve known true, committed love from my husband of 30 years. The births of my two children have only been topped by the births of my three grandchildren. Young people with whom I’ve worked for great lengths of time have finally stopped fighting and given their lives into the hands of the Savior. God has allowed me to be a speaker who encourages women through the “challenges” of life. I have been privileged to teach the Word of God in classroom settings.

What really bugs me is that tendency I have to let the struggles outweigh the cool things God does for me. It’s just so easy to fall into that “woe is me” trap. Some days, my greatest challenge is to remember to thank God in all circumstances.

My firm belief is that every experience has a reason, the greatest of which is to learn what God is teaching through the situation and then take it to the world. I really do believe that God is good all the time. I really do believe that He works all things for my good. I know that He loves me. And while I would never have chosen to have the “challenges” I have experienced in my life, yet even through the dark clouds and the gray days I am learning to thank God for what good will come from every circumstance.

James 1:2-5 \”Consider it all joy, my brethren,when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. But if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all men generously and without reproach, and it will be given to him.\” (NASB)

Nope, this is not the life I asked for. Too many days of too much to deal with. But if I can help just one more person, if just one more person can come to understand God’s love even in their time of pain because of the testimony He has given me to share, then my life is just right. It’s all for Him, after all.

Romans 8:28-29 \”And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.\” (NASB)

Claudette Wood
(c)July 26, 2005
revised October 2006

A Parable

A sheep owner had to go on an extended trip. As he prepared for his journey, his neighbor came to him and said, \”Friend, while you are gone, I will take care of your flock for you.\” The owner was grateful and accepted his neighbor\’s offer of help. Then he went on his way.

While he was gone, his neighbor was not faithful to remember his offer to help the owner. He spent much time at the city gates playing \”throw the stones.\” In the evening when he would come home, the neighbor would pass by the owner\’s house and say to himself, \”Oh, well, I forgot today, but the flocks will be alright until tomorrow.\” Then he would go into his home and sleep. After a while, the sheep owner\’s flocks began to be sick and some of them died. The gate developed a break in it and many of the owner\’s flock escaped through the break.

When the owner came home from his trip, he noticed that the men at the city gate gazed at him with strange, angry expressions. He didn\’t understand why his friends would behave so. His neighbor was also at the gate, but he refused to meet the owner\’s gaze. Upon his arrival at his home, the owner found his flock dead or missing. The men from the city gate followed him home and stood accusing him of being cruel, to leave his animals without anyone to care for them. As they spoke, the owner’s neighbor stood with them and allowed this criticism, and he even offered criticisms of his own, without any mention that he had offered to take care of the flock in the owner\’s absence. The city-gate men told him that they would hold a council to discuss this owner\’s negligence and pass judgment on him.

The owner was amazed at his neighbor’s accusations. At the council meeting, he reminded the neighbor that while he had intended to hire someone to care for his flock, the neighbor had made the offer of help, and the owner had accepted his generous offer. His neighbor accused the owner of not being thoughtful enough of him to leave the animal\’s food where he could easily reach it. He spoke of the struggle to get water from the city well to the flock, and that the owner had not told him how difficult it would be to care for this flock. Then the owner asked the city-gate men why they had not done anything to help keep the flock from dying, since they saw that the flock was not being cared for.

The city-gate men then knew the truth of what the neighbor had done, and they turned their gaze upon him. The neighbor was unable to look at the city-gate men, because he had made many false accusations against the owner in his absence. And the city-gate men were ashamed that they had not been better friends to the owner and tried to save the flock. The owner went to his home vindicated. The city-gate men went back to the city gate. The neighbor went back to his home, and every day he would go to the city gates and play a new game of \”throw the stones\” with the men at the city gate.

(c) 2006


The Skin of Their Teeth

More and more, I encounter folks who say, \”I am a Christian,\” but who live with both feet firmly planted in the world. God\’s Word has no more weight to them than the latest magazine they are reading. His standards are adopted only as they don\’t interfere with the lifestyle they\’ve chosen for themselves. They pick and choose what aspects of God\’s character they will believe. Several times over the last few months, I have been frustrated to find friends and family members alike who say they are Christians, but who are practicing sinful lifestyles–mostly in the area of sexual immorality. One person said to me, \”Yes, I\’m a Christian, and I know I shouldn\’t be living with my boyfriend. I don\’t plan to ever marry, and I don\’t plan to ask him to leave. But I do love God. People live together all the time now.\” Hmmm, what\’s wrong with that picture?

How do we help them understand that God is not One who changes with the whims of society, that His Word is eternal and unchanging? It seems that even the thoughts I share with them from the very Word of God only serve to anger them and bring out the most famous verse in the Bible–\”Judge not, lest ye be judged.\” Ugh. What I am finding is that I must just let them go. I pray for them, I continue to love them, and after we have had an opportunity to discuss our differences–based on the Word and not my personal opinion–I continue our relationship as before the conversation (as much as they will allow, understanding that I have a problem with their lifestyle). I want to be available if or when they want to talk.

The Bible has some very specific instructions for dealing with wayward brothers and sisters–all with a view toward bringing them back to the Lord. Sadly, in this world of political correctness, it\’s becoming more and more common that it doesn\’t bring them back, but places them in the league of the bitter and disillusioned. They choose to believe they were wronged–judged (ugh)–unfairly. And they absolutely refuse to accept that their lifestyles have caused Jesus to be dragged through the mud. Rather, it is those who attempted to point them out of their wayward behavior who have embarrassed God with their \’judgmental\’ (ugh) attitudes.

So, do we give up? Do we stop trying to be a witness? We do have our own feet of clay, you know…

Of course, I don\’t believe we should give up. God has called us to be His witnesses. When Jesus told us to be His witnesses to the world, I thought He meant for us to witness to the lost…

now I see He also meant for us to witness to those who\’ve lost their way…

(c) January 2007

Graduate Sunday

Today was Graduate Sunday at our church. As the youth leader, this is my fourth set of kids who are graduating out of youth group and headed to college group. Today also marked the last of the kids I started with in the youth group five years ago. As well, today marked the last time I will graduate kids out of the youth group. See, I\’ve made the decision to move into another area of ministry with the end of this church year.

For years, I have had a desire to have an active ministry among women. Five years ago I put that on the back burner for a while, when God distinctly called me to move among the youth for a season. I didn\’t realize how long that season would last, but here we are. At last I feel released by God to take another direction. And it\’s a good thing. I\’m getting too old to jump with these kids at concerts anymore!

My calling with the youth began in this manner: five years ago in the early fall, I was asked to help chaperon a group of kids going to see the drama, Heaven\’s Gates and Hell\’s Flames. I wasn\’t immediately enamored with the group. These kids were into the Goth \”thing\” and were wearing their black leather jackets, chains, black nail polish, and dog collars. Rough crowd–not interested.

I don\’t know the exact moment it happened, but sometime during that evening, God placed within me a burning desire to reach out to these guys. By the invitation, when I looked at the young man beside me and asked him about his standing before God, and he replied that he wanted to be saved, I was hooked. I was madly in love with all of them. Now, how to be involved? I mulled that one over, and later that week asked the current youth leaders if I might sit in with them during a class. After a few weeks of that, I asked if they might \”share\” the kids with me–let me do Wednesday evenings and them continue to lead the kids on Sunday mornings.

And so it began, my love affair with the youth. It wasn\’t easy. The kids at that time were rather jaded and mostly non-churched (invited by one member–the only member–of the youth group and brought to church on our van). They brought some bad habits with them to the church. Some of those behaviors could even be classified as dangerous. We spent much time discussing the Word of God, we went to ballgames, we went to concerts (after which walking was difficult for a few days!), and we started going to summer camp. My first year with the kids, we took six girls to camp. Last summer, our fourth year, we took 18 kids.

Last year we graduated six kids out of youth group into the college age group. They were–I think now–the heart of the group. After they left, the makeup of the group changed drastically. It was the last of my unchurched kids, and this year\’s kids are all kids who have been in church all their lives. I find quite a difference in the style of teaching I must incorporate into leading them. I have also found that I am tired. I have run completely out of steam. And the passion I once had to reach these kids is growing cool. They deserve better than that. It is time for me to move on and offer them a change of leadership. I have given my guys five good years. Before God, I have done the best I could to point them to Him. They belong to Him, and He will see to it that the proper leader comes into their lives.

And now on to the women\’s ministry!