This is the continuation of a letter my mother wrote to her grandchildren, 3 years before she died. I am going to present it in its entirety. She was a school teacher all of her life.

I tried to instill in my children and grandchildren the “love” of school, not necessarily the necessity of it. That was a byproduct. It seems to have “taken” in all of them. One of my sons went to college on and off for 10 years, with some of the years away from college. He worked and traveled at the same time. He spent some pleasant time in Spain and Portugal but mostly around the United States. His major was archology, therefore he could find jobs for a few months. When his father would bring up the subject of college, he would say, “But dad I am learning”. His only regret was that his dad was not present at his college graduation. His father died a year before. I have one grandson that seems to want to follow his footsteps. But the grandson is going back to college in January, never to take a recess again. Age creeps up on you, as he had discovered. Many of my grandchildren are eating up learning, also! What else could a grandmother desire! All of the grandchildren are doing well in school. Some have more enthusiasm than others. “Grandmothers” have the privilege of bragging. I have one grandson who was in the 7^th grade this past year. He took the special test they give every year at the end of school. All of his scores, except spelling, ranked in college years. Now I have this other grandchild. Maybe he’ll pick up in his work and grades this year.

Will continue the letter tomorrow.

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This is a letter my mother wrote to her grandchildren, 3 years before she died. I am going to present it in its entirety. She was a school teacher all of her life.

“If only parents and grandparents could instill all the good virtues of life into the minds and souls of their children and grandchildren. Theirs would be a beautiful life. But because God made us individuals instead of carbon copies, we all have individual thinking and acting. But of course if one of us rides down St. Mary Street and the other rides down University Street, we would both end up at the same place. We just used different streets to accomplish our goals of life. That is how life goes. As my grandchildren grow and go I hope they would learn about God and Jesus. Then apply all of the learning to their own souls and lives. This would entitle them to a happy life. Then they could enjoy the fellowship with their playmates and learn to make friends. Some of these playmates will remain close for all of their lives. And what is better than a dear old friend of over fifty years. Of course new friends are nice too. You get new blood into the line of thinking and understanding. The world not be the same if we did not have new blood into our circle. Being a school teacher, my thoughts of their schooling is always a top priority in my mind.”

Will continue the letter tomorrow.

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All of our lives we search for the place where we belong. We know where it is when we reach it. It is that illusive place in the universe. But it is like going home when we find it. All of our lives we have wanted to fit in wherever. You remember that awkward time trying to find your place. You were always the odd man out. We were learning how to fit in. Sometimes it was brutal and hurt. But we never gave up the search. My wife and I went to visit her family in Mexico. I didn’t know what to expect and didn’t speak the language. My wife speaks fluent French and some Spanish. But she can pick up the language as she speaks it. When we crossed over into Mexico, I felt like I was going home. We arrived at her uncle’s house and were treated like royalty. I was the honored guest. All I had to do was ask for something and it was done. They tried to make us as comfortable as possible. My wife was treated as family. She was expected to honor me just like the rest of the family. It was an interesting visit. Unfortunately we have not been back, but we still keep in contact with the family. When we find that place we belong, we begin to occupy the space and live there. But there is no guarantee that we will stay there forever. Because things change almost every minute of every day. You see this world is temporary. We are a trip through this world. Home is in the next world. And what is unfortunate is that very few will make it back home. The only way to make your way back home is to set you heart and mind on home. And not to look back at anything. Lot’s wife looked back at Sodom and Gomora and lost everything. Keep your eye on the prize which is heaven itself and press on home.

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My disappointment and disapproval of my children is disheartening. You raise your children to be a certain way. And hopefully they will be almost perfect when they grow up. Well it ain’t so. They are human beings. They will be flawed and imperfect all their lives. But you would think that at least they would learn from you, at least a little bit. When they were young, other people used to brag on how polite and well-mannered they were. I was so proud of them. I raised them to be able to think for themselves. I wanted them to be able to make decisions on their own. I wanted them to be independent enough to live a good life, but would come to me and talk when a problem arose. Well they do just that. But that doesn’t mean that they can’t disappoint you. And the disappointment does hurt. I am a flawed and feeling human being. Heartache affects me like anybody else. I just wish that it wouldn’t be so consistent in their lives. And that I didn’t feel pain quite so much. Being vulnerable is a positive attribute in my life. It is the only way to be able to reach people. You have to be open to let people come into your life. If you want them to see who you are and what you stand for. But I still don’t like the pain. I wish people and things were more perfect in this world. But I know there is a rhyme and reason to everything. Because see that all things work together for the good, for those who love the Lord and are called according to His purpose. The reference is Romans 8:28.

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When I began I always thought that prayer was hard and mostly impossible to reach God. But every time I asked God for something, it seemed to show up at my doorstep. The first time I prayed for someone, I was cornered into doing it. I didn’t know whether or not would answer me. I said, “Ok, God do something.”  Guess what happened, God healed the person immediately. It surprised me so much that I began to test God. I prayed for stupid things, headaches, pains, shirts, and whatever came to mind that I needed. By the way, there are no stupid things when it comes to pray. God said He would give us the Kingdom here on earth as well as in Heaven. God kept answering me and showing me that He was listening. Then I wanted to hear His voice and to know it was Him. I like the King James English version bible. God would speak to me through a scripture in King James English. For a long time that was how I heard His voice. Then God spoke to me plainly. I heard that still small voice in my heart and knew it truly was God. My prayer began to change into a constant conversation with my Father. This is what I always wanted, a real relationship with my Father, my older brother, Jesus and the Holy Spirit. I am not usual or strange. God talks to everyone.

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I had an interesting conversation with a friend of mine. I watched this young man grow up. He had a troubled past. As he grew, not only did he change, but his whole family did. Being involved in the lives of others is one of the most rewarding part of my life. We are social beings. Our lives are intertwined with other people. God made us this way. So that our hearts would reach out with compassion. Not every effort has worked out. There has been heartbreaking times. There were people who I reached out to and had my hand slapped away. Not every person will respond to your effort. But I reach out so that at least some will respond. Before I was married, I lived in one city and went to church in another. Many times going back and forth, I would pick up hitchhikers. I would only do it when the Spirit of God prompted me. One day, I pick this guy up headed my way. As I spoke to him, I found out he was a preacher’s son running from God. By the time I reached my destination, he was headed home to his father. It is the oddest thing when people come up to me and thank me for helping them. I couldn’t even remember who they were. God said always be ready to give an answer for your faith and works you exhibit. I know that many people’s lives have been changed because of this. The bible talks about this in James 2:17-18 “Even so faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone. Yea, a man may say, Thou hast faith, and I have works: shew me thy faith without thy works, and I will shew thee my faith by my works.” (KJV).

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Everyone is born to parents. And for whatever reason, some people are unable to care for their children. 35 years ago, Brazil was so impoverished that were over 14 million abandon children walking the streets. It was a horrible situation. Adoption has been a way to help solve this problem. During WWII, Britain moved all the children out of London into the countryside to save their lives. London was being bombed daily and so many people were dying. Children are our future. A friend of mine started a orphanage in Guatemala. He and his wife pastored a church here in Louisiana. They went to Guatemala on a trip and saw the abject poverty. In the trash dump in the capital city they found 30,000 children living. It moved them so much, that they resigned their church and moved down to Guatemala to open an orphanage. They have been there over 20 years. The children not only found a home, they ate regularly, became healthy and finished high school. Then to their surprise, most of the children went to college and graduated. These children are leading their country instead of being an army killing their own people. Adoption is about grace and mercy. When your heart is moved by compassion and do something about it. It is not unlike another person, who looked at us and was moved with compassion. He looked on us as sheep without a shepherd. Knowing that we needed help so badly. He came and paid the price to bring us back into the fold. That price being His life. No greater love has any man than He would lay down His life for another. And He did it by grace and mercy. Hallelujah!!!

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Everyone tries to be different. People want to stand out among everyone else. They will do whatever it takes to be the one. If you want to see it up close and personal just look at every reality show on TV. It is a sad game of one-upmanship. Personally I could do without a lot of information. I am fine with not knowing everybody’s secret. Depending on where and how people were raised, is what a person will do in this life. There are many examples. All you have to do is look at the news on TV or read a newspaper. I don’t want to get specific about any one person. What I am talking about is that it is ok for people to be different. I am going to quote a yogism, “If the world were perfect, it wouldn’t be” We were made individuals. We are similar in many aspects, but different enough to be special. My appreciation of the individual didn’t happen for a long time. As I got older, I saw that uniqueness in each person and became willing to accept it. I don’t accept the lawless, but in the bounds of civility. My attitude toward people has grown because of my acceptance by God. God loved me when I was unlovable. And with His acceptance and love, I grew in the knowledge of God. With that knowledge, I learned how God loves everyone. As it says in the bible in Acts 10:34 “Then Peter opened his mouth, and said, Of a truth I perceive that God is no respecter of persons:” (KJV). So I am just like my Father.

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The new world meant many things to different people. They saw something that would bring prosperity to themselves and their family. They came with literally nothing to start a new life. At first, they were promised land and provisions to colonize the new world. But when they came they found that an indigenous people lived there. Some made peace with them and others began to fight them. Then wave after wave of people began coming to America. Many came to have religious freedom. Some came just to have freedom. Most people found what they were looking for. It was here in this land that people found a home. In the beginning, it was a hard life and many didn’t survive. The life here was never easy, but it forged a people fiercely independent and self-reliant. But all the while people understood that God was leading them in this direction. They knew that God had put the dream in their heart and they were going to follow. It took hard work and perseverance on their part. It hasn’t change at all. It still takes hard work and perseverance to succeed in this country. But the people of the past knew where they were going. This is why the called America the Promised Land. Just like what God did for the Jewish people of ancient times. God gave them a Promised Land. Sadly today Americans don’t have the same vision. And don’t call America the Promised Land. It is funny that immigrants still call this land the Promised Land. And I know that God is still directing people here.

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I have wanted to write since I was young. I would always have stories in my head. I would sit down and think about a story, then tell the story. When I was young of course the stories were about heroes. The people would be super-heroes. Someone larger than life itself. I have always been creative. When I was a teenager, I went to my parents and asked if I could take ballet lessons. My dad said no. But I saw in these people skill and dedication and passion. I knew that is what I wanted. I knew that I wouldn’t rise to be president but I could live a life of passion. I really didn’t care so much as to what I would became. All I knew was that I wanted it to be challenging and would require passion. I went into communications in college. So I could learn to express myself. I would write stories and they always seem to express the mood I was going through. It is how I write. My stories always involve me or I would put myself into the story. This way the story became personal. And a personal story is more interesting than a narrative. When I became a Christian, my story became very personal and intimate. For a long time, I didn’t want to express myself because my story was too intimate too share. If it wasn’t at the unction of the Holy Spirit, I wouldn’t have started writing again. God wanted me to share what I believed and my love for my God. So you will see bits and pieces of me in everything I write. And all those bits and pieces make up a whole picture of who I am and who God is.

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