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March 17, 2014 by Karin 8 Comments

When A Lost Sheep Finds You

The wind was wild that day.

I scrambled and swerved trying to get the cart to the truck without losing the little ones in tow.  Only two today – piece of cake.  Two or six, it takes a squadron commander’s bellowing tone to force those littles into buckled seats.  I was too busy trying to grab the flying plastic bags to notice him as he got closer.

Excuse me, ma’am.

I startled as I turned my head to see him standing fifteen feet away.  His stance was awkward.  Unsure.  His eyes.  Pleading.  For a moment I’m sure I saw a glimpse of shame.

He held his hand up, palm facing me. This symbol of reassurance; he had no intention of coming closer,

I see you have kids there.

My eyes scanned the area.  People coming and going.  Just a middle-of-the-day parking lot.

I answered with words like a warning shot,

I have kids here.

He nodded and held his position,

I just wonder… I just need a couple of dollars.  I… we… need something to eat.  I don’t want to bother you.  It’ll take me all day to get enough together.

My mind retrieved the faces burned to memory.  The lady that one day.  And James.  And Jim.  The faces of desperate need etched in my mind.

I smiled at him,

I have something for you.

I reached into my wallet and pulled a bill large enough to feed him lunch for a week.  The “we” he was referring to?  I knew there was no “we.”  Just him.

Why do we do that?  Why do we think we are not enough?

Why do we think we aren’t valuable enough – just on our own?

His only hope for help was through someone, anyone, he could call “we.”  As if the only worthy souls were the ones in his imagination.  As if he needed to prove his desperation, need, and worth to this mom in a parking lot.

Lost Sheep

I walked toward him,

I have this for you.  You won’t have to do this all day.

His eyes widened,

Oh… wow.  Are you sure?

Yea, that whole thing about giving being better than receiving?  It’s true.  Every word.  It is better to give. 

His sheep are everywhere.  We live with them and pass them by day-in and day-out.  Sometimes we move on with laser focus and miss them as they stand back in distant fields.  We turn our eyes and our hearts the other way.  We build our fences and our walls, and wonder when someone will finally go out there and feed them.  All the while we have the food right in our hands…

Wild Donkeys

Wild Donkeys Together

I grinned and shook his hand,

Of course I’m sure.  God bless you.  What’s your name?

A smile lit his haggard face and showed the only two teeth he had left.  The shame vanished from his eyes as his posture relaxed,

I’m Ryan.  I just got out of prison.

The truth.  Funny how a step forward and a helping hand can chisel away at the facade.  The truth.  He told me his truth with a relieved sigh.

Need A Friend

I nodded and replied,

Our church has a great community re-entry program for people who just got out of prison.

His eyes lit with familiarity.  Head nodding vehemently, he went on,

What church do you go to?  Do you have a card for your church?  There were some guys… when I was in… they came to talk about God.  I lost the guy’s card.

Now that’s a thought.  I had never considered carrying church cards with me.

I gave him the address and the only names I could come up with,

I expect to see you there on Sunday, Ryan.

He grinned,

Yes.  Yes.  I want to thank you.  I know where it is.  I just want to thank you.

I closed the truck and continued to shoo kids into seats as he walked away.  This desperate soul who wanders parking lots looking for any sign of life.  This soul who thinks he isn’t enough to warrant a hand, or a heart.  This hungry soul searching to fill the empty places.

Little Sheep

He walked away, and as I watched the back of his casino jacket disappear into the sea of cars…

he looked an awful lot like a lost sheep.

 

Luke 15:4-7

“Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’ I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.

Karin Madden

Filed Under: A Day in the Life, Compassion, Faith, Good Deeds, Mercy Tagged With: lost sheep, mercy for the broken, the value of one

December 16, 2013 by Karin 12 Comments

When The Rogue Waves Threaten To Take Us Down

That tooth popped right out.

Mama, it flaps when I drink water.

Will you pull it out?

I took the small trusting hand in mine and lead him to the operating room, aka the bathroom.

Tissue wrapped firmly around this dangling tooth; and I yanked.  The chipped memory of a toddler falling face first onto wood flooring popped out without resistance.

Beaming, my boy squealed,

The tooth fairy is coming!

I grinned as I looked into that sweet face, gaping smile more holes than teeth.

Go show Daddy.

I couldn’t help but look at the chipped pearl and remember the day his face hit the floor and nicked personality right into that tooth.  It was daddy and uncle’s watch, of course.  Not that anyone has ever chipped a tooth on my watch, or gashed a knee, or knotted a baseball-sized lump onto the head.

Today is his birthday.

I remember now… a time that was on my watch.  That day, five and a half years ago.  A day we almost lost this beautiful, toothless face to the sea.

A storm brewed just off the coast.  It wasn’t enough to keep us from digging feet into warm sand.  We had just arrived.  The ocean beckoned without letting up.  We had to go down there.

The view, mesmerizing and soothing as the ocean whispered its strength.  Deceiving – those waves that lull and slide onto the shore only to quickly disappear into the murk and mist.

Wild Waves

My older ones, only seven, six, and four-years-old, jumped the teasing ocean as it licked the shore.  My warrior held fast to hands and stood as an armed guard between them and the hungry sea.

My parents joined us for this vacation.  Dad had hurried to the sand as quickly as we had, while Mom stayed behind to prepare a meal that only a grandmother could craft.

I remember meeting a woman.  She stood as a watch tower over her own little ones, while we laughed that our children had the same name.  I rubbed my expectant belly and breathed deep the salt air.

It came out of nowhere.

This beast of a wave roared, reminding us of the grains of sand that we really are.

She looked at me and yelled,

It’s coming in!

I saw my toddling 18-month-old wander toward the greedy water.  My dad, eyes wide, moved his 81-year-old legs faster than I had ever seen.  The wave, it was just  too much.  That surging force of endless ocean powered to the shore, grumbling and snarling at everything in its path.

Rogue Waves

It came out of nowhere.  Nowhere.

All I could do was run.  As dad and I enveloped my baby like armies strategically flanking its prey, my dad snatched up his small, unsuspecting body.

It wasn’t enough.  Dad held him tightly, but the surge of the wave and the power of the retreat was just too much.  The tide tore and pulled and ripped my baby from his arms.  I screamed for my husband to help my father as he was pulled into the ocean.

I still don’t know how it could have ended this way… but, I am eternally grateful.

I reached them before the water could pull me down.  My little boy’s body was completely submerged.  The only glimpse of him was a sparkle of his blue and white swim shirt.  The UV protection could do nothing to keep him safe.  I saw his shirt and his face, eyes open wide, peering up at me from underneath a film of murky sea water.  The wave taunted and pulled as I lifted my  baby to open air.  Pulling him toward my chest, I felt as though I would squeeze him right into my soul.

But, he didn’t even cry.  He didn’t even suck for air.  He breathed a steady calm breath as if he had been floating in peace, just waiting for mama to save him.

It was my dad who saved him.  But really, it was our merciful Father who saved him that day.

The almosts, the could-have-beens, the what-ifs… they haunt sometimes.

This rogue wave of parenthood brings us face-to-face with time after time of…

I saved your life.

And, He does.  Here and the hereafter.

Time and again He saves our lives.

And I am grateful for His mercy… most especially on the days that that rogue waves threaten to take us down.

 

Matthew 8:25-27

The disciples went and woke him, saying, “Lord, save us! We’re going to drown!”  He replied, “You of little faith, why are you so afraid?”  Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm.  The men were amazed and asked, “What kind of man is this? Even the winds and the waves obey him!”

Karin Madden

 

Filed Under: A Day in the Life, Faith, Family, Mercy, Motherhood Tagged With: rogue waves, the what-ifs

October 22, 2013 by Karin 8 Comments

When We Put Our Feet On The Ground

31 Days of Good Deeds 31 Days of Good Deeds

(click here for the series)

~ Day 18 ~

I can almost see his house from here.

The water snakes just around the buildings, under the bridges, and presses hard against the dam. The trees carpet the landscape. I can’t make out trees from bushes from fields. It all looks lush and quenched from up here. I miss the green in the rugged beauty of desert.

Like a drink of water before entering the parched land of jags and cliffs and red-painted rocks.

I can almost see my brother’s house. And it feels like home.

It’s not my home or my town or my state. But, just the proximity to him feels like home. Funny how that settles the nerves of a pilot’s wife in the air. Funnier still that a pilot’s wife feels oddly misplaced up here though I know this air feels like home to my other half.

Up Above

You can sense the whispers of home in places that aren’t home.

You can feel close to a brother, sometimes even a brother you don’t know.

This story is from a friend. A woman I met by God’s circumstance in the most unexpected place. He orchestrates these meetings, you know. It still blows my mind.

My friend is a musician. She shares her gift with my girls. The music from the piano and the seasoned voice leading the tentative new voice cover the air like white wash over the dull. Music brightens and brings light to the landscape.

She told me a story. A good deed…

They turned into the parking lot of the grocery store and saw him. She and her young daughter. His sign didn’t ask for money. Just food. Strategic positioning right outside this store filled with enough to feed more than enough.  I wonder if our attempts at strategy ever really amount to much… without His positioning?

Her little girl exclaimed,

Mom, we should bring him some food!

She nodded agreement,

We’ll get him a sandwich and a drink.

After checking out, supplies and sandwich in hand, they pulled their truck to where the man had waited. He was gone.

Man, we were all ready for him.

My friend drove to the main road and that’s when she heard it. That Voice that whispers. The same Voice that prompted me to pocket a twenty just weeks before. This Voice, it beckoned,

Go across the street. Go to the Wal-Mart parking lot.

It’s when that whisper comes to you so specifically that you wonder,

Seriously? Am I imagining this?

It’s when the Voice whispers so specifically that it’s most imperative to listen.

My friend listened. She laughed to herself,

I don’t know what the deal is, but ok.

She drove across in anticipation. The anticipation is the best part. And, sometimes it throws us off.

Nothing.

No great sign. No homeless man waiting for his sandwich. Nada.

Really, God? Here I am. I’m not sure where to go.

There was nowhere else to turn, but toward the exit. All prepped and nothing. This is sometimes when it happens. We lose our direction. We question the Voice. We wonder what kind of stuff we are dreaming up anyway.

And, this… this is when we have to keep going. The Voice doesn’t lie. Our doubt just begins to seep into the ear trying to play over the melody of that Voice.

That’s when she saw him. He rolled along in a chair, oxygen tank in tow. He wasn’t the same guy. Not the one she saw at the store. This one was the one she was supposed to see. He orchestrates these meetings, you know.

The older man waved arms at blind passersby. Not one soul stopped as the man rolled and waved and tried to get anyone to see. The best of us can be blind sometimes, can’t we?

She pulled her truck alongside,

Hey there, what do you need?

His voice, gruff and worn,

I just got out of the hospital. I’m a diabetic. I just need something to eat because of my blood sugar.

She answered,

Well, I’ve got your sandwich right here.

City traffic doesn’t stand still for good deeds, so she pulled to the side and climbed out of her truck. This is what gets me. She stopped. And, got out. She stepped feet onto the ground next to the weary soul in the chair.

Feet on the ground

They talked for a short time. The street side conversation went to God and faith.  She told him about the hungry man she had bought the sandwich for, but that God pointed her to him instead.

He responded to her kindness,

I’ve helped people all my life. I’ve always tried to do good for others.

He motioned to his legs and whispered,

Now look at me. I’m wondering, where is God?

Then, you gave me this.

His eyes went to her face,

You’ve got the Spirit. I see it in you.

She hugged the man,

Where are you going to go?

The man in the chair replied,

I gotta get to the shelter before they close. I don’t have any bus money. If they close the doors, I can’t get in tonight.

The good deed kept on giving. My friend answered,

Well I have $5 that you can have for the bus.

She handed him the money and climbed back into her truck.

He called to her by name,

Hey, be good to your husband. Stop arguing with each other. He’s doing the best he can and he’ll never leave you.

Then, he paused as tears welled in her eyes,

From the looks of your face, I can tell that means something to you.

And, he was gone.

We don’t have to go very far to be near a brother. Or a sister. We don’t have to go very far to feel close to home. We don’t have to look around and wonder in anticipation when we will go home again. We just have to get out. Put feet on the ground. Feet on the ground next to our brothers and sisters. He orchestrates the meetings, you know. The Voice whispering in our souls,

Follow me and I’ll show you Home.

 

Mark 10:29-31

“I tell you the truth,” Jesus replied, “no one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me and the gospel will fail to receive a hundred times as much in this present age (homes, brothers, sisters, mothers, children and fields—and with them, persecutions) and in the age to come, eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last first.”

Karin signature

Filed Under: A Day in the Life, Brothers and Sisters, Good Deeds, Hope, Mercy, Together Tagged With: feet on the ground, obedience, stop and get out, together

October 12, 2013 by Karin 2 Comments

Giving Is The Best Communication

 

31 Days of Good Deeds

31 Days of Good Deeds

(click here for the series)

~ Day 11 ~

No words needed.

Giving is the best communication.

Happy weekend, friends.

(If you are reading this in an email, please click over to the blog to watch the 3 minute video. Not a dry eye here.)

 

 

John 13:34

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.

Karin signature

Filed Under: Compassion, Good Deeds, Mercy Tagged With: giving, love one another

October 10, 2013 by Karin 2 Comments

When You Are Ready For Battle

31 Days of Good Deeds 31 Days of Good Deeds

(click here for the series)

 ~ Day 9 ~

It’s been one of those days.

A day with patience in short supply and tempers flickering with every tiny twig thrown into the growing inferno.

The inferno inside a weary mom.

Fuming words have flown from this mama’s tongue today… followed sheepishly by,

I’m sorry.  Again.

The days we can’t seem to control our tongues and our tempers.  These days get to me the most.  Haven’t I learned yet?  Haven’t I gotten past all this? Shouldn’t I be better than this by now?

I’ve had years of practice in this patience place.  But, some days, I end up right at the beginning.

Frustrations and expectations get in the way and blur the truth.  We prepare for battle and get our weapons ready.  Ready to fire those jagged words… aiming to cut to the source of all our anger.

Then, sometimes, we are knocked from our battle stance.  Kids disarm us with kisses, hugs, and life-giving words.

Weapons down

Sometimes, we are ready to fire, and someone… a stranger… delivers an unexpected blow.  Of kindness.

Thank you, Diana (you can find Diana’s blog here), for sharing your story… and your humility…

Three weeks after I bought it, my brand-new-to-me used car started shifting like I was doing a bad job driving a standard, when in fact I was driving an automatic.  Since it was still under warranty, I took it back to the dealer/repair shop I had purchased it from to get it fixed. They tried a simple solution and that didn’t work, so I took it back for a second round of more intensive treatment.

It took a while for the part they needed to come in, but finally the day when my car was supposed to be ready drew near. My mother was going to be in the area of the dealership with my aunt and uncle the next day, and was willing to pick up the car for me.  I called ahead to find out if it would be ready and if there would be a charge for the repairs so I could send money with her if needed.

“No, you haven’t had the car very long, so that’s something we’re going to have to take care of,” the mechanic told me. I was happy with that answer, so I thanked him and told him to expect my mother the next afternoon. However, the next evening I found out that the car wasn’t ready when my mom went to pick it up.  Something more urgent had come up at the garage. I waited another day, and after I got home from work my mom told me that the mechanic had called and said the car was ready. However, the part had cost more than expected, so the mechanic said that the garage would only pay half the bill, as per my warranty, and I would have to pay the other half – $300. I was more than a little shocked and unhappy. One day I owed nothing, and the next, I owed $300.

Black thoughts filled my mind as I rode to the dealership with my mother the next day. I was ready to give the people at the dealership a piece of my mind and make sure they knew I would not recommend their business to anyone again.

I walked into the office, ready to do battle. It was empty, and my mother and I waited for a few minutes before I got up the courage to call “Hello!” into the empty space beyond the desk. Immediately the mechanic, a perpetually smiling man, emerged from the garage, apologizing for not hearing us come in. Before I could unload both barrels on him, he explained in a quiet voice that his boss had been gone that week and they had been short-staffed. He apologized for the miscommunication about the fees. He said he had to do what his boss told him, but he wanted to help me out personally in whatever way he could. I didn’t know what he meant by that, but I continued listening as he explained the work that had been done on my car and a couple of discounts they had given me. When he was finished, he again said, “I feel bad about this, so I want to help you out personally however I can.” With that, he pulled a fifty dollar bill out of his wallet and laid it on my car bill.
“Oh. You don’t have to do that,” I said, amazed at his gesture. But he again reiterated that he wanted to help, so with tears in my eyes I thanked him and paid the remainder of the bill. Here I had been ready to slaughter the man for going back on his word, and he had simply made a mistake during a stressful work week. His willingness to make it right, even though it cost him personally, restored my faith in humankind. The $250 dollars I had to pay was no longer a burden; it was a blessing and a lesson for me that I will never forget.
I cried the whole way home, rebuked for my evil thoughts and profoundly grateful for the kindness of a mechanic and the loving provision of my Heavenly Father.

 

Weapons down.

Thankfulness.  It trumps anger… every time.

 

Colossians 3:12-13

Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.

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Filed Under: A Day in the Life, Good Deeds, Mercy, Patience, The Good Stuff Tagged With: battle words, weapons down

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Meet Karin

Hi! My name is Karin Madden. Writer. Warrior wife. Mom of six pack. Homeschooler. German-blooded southerner. Welcome to the place where I explore what it means to grow stronger - spirit, soul, and body. I write to inspire and encourage - to remind you we are not alone. By being bold with grace and speaking truth in love, we can become who we are meant to be. I'm glad you are here.

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