The Cheese Stands Alone

Today, I thought I'd share an oldie, but a goodie. I wrote this one when Ashley was 3, back in 2007. Seeing all the young adults graduate this week has made me nostalgic. For the seniors, and all of us, it is good to know that we have Someone who goes with us, always.

Image from http://josiesniece.blogspot.com

I've been reading books of nursery rhymes to Ashley lately, and teaching them to her, just as parents have done throughout the years. They are like old familiar friends from childhood. They have nice rhythm and rhyme. They bring back memories of carefree days, youthful innocence, and uninhabited laughter. I think they are as much fun for me as they are for her.

But as I read them, I have to wonder about them. What kind of weirdos wrote these things? I'm not even going to start on fairy tales....that's a whole other ball game. Sticking to nursery rhymes, think about them. For the most part they make no sense. There is no story line, no moral, no reason for the things that happen. “Hey diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle, the cow jumped over the moon. The little dog laughed to see such a sight, and the dish ran away with the spoon.” Why did the cat have a fiddle, and was his playing so bad that the cow jumped all the way over the moon to get away? And why a cow? Cow can't even jump. Why not an animal that might have a chance at jumping over the moon....maybe a kangaroo, or a rabbit....or how about a flea? I can’t think of any fleas in nursery rhymes, although there are spiders and flies. There are also a disproportionate number of mice. There are the three blind mice that lose their tails to the butcher's wife, which is kind of sad and shows that she is either really sadistic, or has really bad aim. There are the three mice that ran up the clock, but we don't know why. We just know that when the clock strikes, they run back down. Also, notice mice often come in threes. That may help you if you are setting mouse traps.

There is also a mouse in the farmer in the dell. I remember singing this little ditty when I was small, but now I notice it leaves many questions unanswered. Let me refresh your memory. “The farmer in the dell, the farmer in the dell, hi ho the dairy-o, the farmer in the dell.” The song goes on, with the farmer taking his wife, the wife taking the child, the child taking the dog, the dog taking the cat, the cat taking the mouse, the mouse taking the cheese, but the cheese stands alone. We don't know where they are all going, how they are getting there, or why. I'd like to know where they found a dog, at cat and mouse that don't chase each other and a wife that doesn't mind a mouse as a traveling companion. But notice this...none of them are alone. They all have someone they can take, except of course for the cheese, who is probably dinner anyway. None of us are ever alone either. We all have Someone we can take, anywhere, everywhere, always, regardless of where we are going and why. And not only does our Someone go with us, He helps us, supports us, guides us, advises us, protects us, and loves us along the way. In fact, He never leaves us. He doesn't fall asleep on the job like little boy blue. He doesn't run away like Georgie Porgy or little Miss Muffett. And while Mary had a little lamb, we are His little lambs.

Our lives are not nursery rhymes, which is good, because they don't seem to end happily very often. But just like the songs had an author who created the characters and put them in their situations, we have an Author who created us and placed us exactly where He wanted us. Fortunately, our Author isn't just trying to make a funny song with no concern for the characters' best interests. All He asks in return is all we are and all we have. That may seem like a lot, but the truth is, once we give that to Him, He gives us so much more in return. God's math defies our scientific laws.

Nursery rhymes are fun. Children love them and just enjoy them for their fun and simplicity. They don't questions the wheres, whys, or hows. And that's good. They'll have plenty of questions to worry about as they grow up. I'm thankful for their innocence, trust, and fun spirit. I'm also thankful for the questioning mind God gave me. Most of all, I'm thankful for God's endless love.

We Just Have a Few Questions, Ma'am

“Mom, there's some men here. I think it's the police.” Those words got my attention real quick. What on earth? I stepped into the garage to find two men in green uniforms standing with arms folded, two green pick-ups in the yard, and a very confused look on my face. Before I could process it, they said they were looking for Scott. “We just have some questions, ma’am.” At least they were unfailingly polite. After explaining that he was at work and wouldn't be home for another five hours, they said they'd wait. In my yard. For five hours. Things just got real!

It took some doing to find out what they even wanted, because Scott's the one they wanted to question. They told me they were there about the white turkey. I said ok. Ashley piped up and informed them it was a “boy turkey”. They seemed surprised and I started to understand. Yep, white turkey, had a beard, had some spurs, makes it a male, right? Not necessarily, they informed me. Thirty percent of hens have beards. I don't hunt turkeys. I'm a deer hunting girl, and if it has horns I WILL assume it is a buck and I will put it in my freezer. Turkeys are too much trouble for me but apparently you have to examine their tiny little beady heads to determine if it's male. From a distance, while they are moving around and while you are trying to stay hidden from an animal that has the best eyesight of anything we hunt, you are to check the head. Perhaps with a scope you could. We bow hunt.

The storm of the century, (well, the month anyway) was rolling in. Tornadoes had hit the day before and more were expected, so this worked in my favor. The game wardens didn't really want to sit in my yard all day and wait on the tornadoes. They let me know their boss wanted to verify the turkey wasn't on the premises. I told them, AGAIN, that it was in the freezer in Pine Hill and I would quite gladly take them to it. Nope, need to search my freezers first. I pulled open the doors and invited them to knock themselves out. I asked them to let me know if they found anything that looked interesting for supper. One of the freezers in the garage is full of hides that Scott donates to taxidermists. They examined each and every one of them. They went through the bags of meat we'd had processed, taking out every package, to be sure nothing was hidden beneath it. They were quite thorough. When they finished the freezers, they asked to be taken to the white turkey. They followed us to Pine Hill, and took the turkey out of the freezer to examine it, where they discovered that yes, indeed, it did have a beard and spurs. They couldn't get to much of the head, because it was frozen beneath the wing, but they finally decided that if it was a hen, it was an honest mistake and they'd let it go. This is when one of them pulled out a folder and showed me why they were there. Scott and Tim, proud of the solid white turkey which was quite legal, had posted pictures on hunting websites. Someone tipped the game wardens that it was a hen, and they had to investigate. Then they showed me the search warrants for my freezers. Search warrants people! Imagine how that feels. They thanked me for not making them use the warrants I didn't know they had. I told them we had absolutely nothing to hide. They said that was evident in the way I let them search. They let us go home where it took me hours to get my emotions in check. I was shaken, and annoyed, and thankful.

I knew we had not done anything wrong, on purpose. But there are so many regulations, it is easy to miss one. It's the first white turkey Scott had killed and he had looked it up before he killed it, but who knows what other laws we may not know about. Knowing they suspected we were criminals felt awful. Knowing they had gone to a judge and gotten search warrants? Wow, I can't even convey what that feels like. The whole thing felt like we were trying to prove our innocence when we didn't even know the charges. It was scary. Innocent people do go to jail sometimes.

I'm so grateful that God doesn't work that way. He doesn't sit back, trying to catch us sinning. He doesn't arrive on our doorsteps and demand we prove our innocence. He isn't vindictive or grudge-bearing. His desire when we've sinned is to restore a right relationship, not to punish. And His laws are straight forward and unchanging. I don't have to worry that I broke one that I had never even heard of or that had changed since the last time I read them. No, God is unchanging, faithful, forgiving, and compassionate.

The game wardens were professional and polite. They were doing their job. I have no hard feelings toward them. But I have a whole new view of those who are accused. Accusations do not equate to guilt. This is why our legal system demands proof. And though it is not a perfect system, it's still the best one out there. 

No More Brace Face

Today was an exciting day in the Fletcher household. After 2 ¼ years, Tim got his braces off. His teeth are now straight, which makes his mama happy, and he can now eat apples, sticky foods, popcorn, and even gum, which makes him happy. It was a long and often painful process, not to mention expensive, but in the end, it was all worth it to see that perfect smile.

Having braces is no fun. I hated them when I had them just as much as Tim hated his. They are uncomfortable at best, and painful at worst. Just when they stop hurting, you have to get them adjusted, which results in raw sore lips and mouth and aching teeth and jaws. You are constantly aware of them, of the things you are forbidden to eat because of them, and of the siren call of those forbidden foods trying to lure you in to sneak that which you should not have. You are conscious of them when having your picture made, when you smile at people, and when you speak. As I said, they are no fun.

I find the braces to be an interesting analogy of our walk with the Lord and to His corrections. We want to be like Jesus, perfect, sinless, spotless, but we are crooked, sinful, and broken. The only way to reach a more perfect state is though His correcting us, but we don't look forward to it. Oh, we want the end result. We want to look in the mirror and be proud of what we see. But the process for getting there? It's often no fun. We have to see our broken, sinful, crooked life and make changes in order to reach a more Christ-like existence. But it's not easy. Those changes can hurt. They can be frustrating and hard and take a long time. They can make us conscious of our failures, and that is unpleasant to face. They can leave us raw, and sore, and aching. They can make us feel the siren call of the forbidden fruits we are trying to avoid. Yes, those changes can be painful and difficult. But we can not grow without them. And just like with braces, when you finally stop the aching as you reach one goal, it's time to make another change, to make another adjustment, starting the process over again. We don't quit just because we accomplished one improvement.

One thing we noticed with the braces was that the adjustments at the beginning were much more painful than those toward the end. This is because the changes that needed to be made at the beginning were greater than those at the end. The same is true with our walk with Christ. In the beginning, we have great need for enormous change. But as we become more and more like Him, our short-comings tend to be smaller. If we are continuing to strive to be like Him, then we catch new issues before they become big issues, so they are dealt with quicker and easier. And we trust the process more, and fight it less.

Finally, Tim was less than pleased to learn he would have to wear retainers to help keep his teeth from migrating. After all that time, money, pain, and trouble, we certainly don't want that work to be in vain. Our walk with Christ is the same. We must do something to keep us from falling back into our old ways. What do we use as retainers? Prayer. Bible reading. Worship. Church. Spiritual mentors. More prayer.

Over the next days and weeks, Tim will get used to not having the braces. He will be able to enjoy eating some of his favorite foods with greater ease. He will get used to a nice smile reflecting back from the mirror. He will enjoy the ease of brushing his teeth without navigating miles of metal. And he will be tempted to become complacent with his routines. He will not want to wear the retainers, because they are irritating and inconvenient and unpleasant. And the danger is that the teeth will begin to ease back into their old positions. The movement is so slow, glacial really, that he won't notice until one day when he tries to put his retainer in and it won't fit. In the same way, when we overcome a weakness, a sin area, we are tempted to bask in our accomplishment and become complacent. And we don't notice the sin creeping back in until one day, we are shocked when we find ourselves doing that thing we thought we'd never do again.

Braces are a blessing. They correct problems, improve our smiles and our lives, and prevent further deterioration. They are not pleasant while you have them, but the results are worth the effort. God's corrections are a blessing. They correct problems, improve our lives, and prevent further distance from Him. They also are not pleasant while they are happening, but the results are well worth the discomfort. Thank God for His work in our lives.