Oh What A Morning…

Oh what a morning.

Today started with an early morning text from our technical guru. He’s the guy that makes all of our internet magic happen. “Could I send out a blog today” he asked of me just before dawn, “I think I’ve got the notification bugs worked out”.

Have I ever told you about my “guru”? He’s a faithful friend with whom I worked all of my twenty-one years at Family Fellowship. A talented musician, technical wizard and creative genius, I fear that I have always enjoyed the better half of our friendship. He designed our current webpage and blog, and keeps up with all the maintenance and the implementation of my “latest ideas” . And he does it all for this ministry as a gift. You know, pro bono, as in free of charge. In case I ever forget to say it, thanks Joe Key.

Writing a blog today shouldn’t be that difficult. Makenna, our ten year old Granddaughter is our special guest over these two weeks thanks to her Mom’s choice to home school. Ma simply plays the role of substitute teacher. Poppy gets to listen, relax and write in my blog.  I win!!!

We just spent a glorious weekend with a special church in northwest Arkansas. This is one of those churches that chose to partner with us early on.  It is that beautiful church I mentioned to you before. It sits atop a mountain overlooking lush valleys and surrounded by even more mountains in the distance. You get to choose which parking lot level you wish to park on since this place is literally carved out of a mountain. “Beautiful” is not a descriptive enough term.

In my experience as a Worship Leader, I have learned that sometimes God sneaks in as a “still, small voice”. Sometimes He rushes in like a “mighty rushing wind”. Now I don’t want to even remotely risk blasphemy here by comparing yesterday’s worship to the Day of Pentecost, but this time it was a whole lot closer to the rushing wind. God was present in a tangible way.  You could sense Him in the applause and the shouts as well as the tears.  Oh what a morning.

The remainder of the weekend was filled with great food, great friends and at least two hundred hands of “preacher poker”. (Don’t panic here, that’s just a tongue in cheek name for Rook.)  We got up this Monday morning pretty early (only partially thanks to my text), grabbed a cup of coffee and spent a final few moments with the Pastor and his wife. For the record, if there was a “Pastor’s Wife Hall of Fame”, this Pastor’s wife would no doubt be an honored member. If the food, fun, fellowship and encouragement were not enough. final hugs and goodbyes this morning saw to it that she slipped a ten dollar bill into Makenna’s hand.  It was for some shopping later. Makenna had to only reposition her special gift box this Pastor’s wife had just presented her with to make room for the cash, a task eagerly completed.  Shaunda got her last hug from this angel as she slipped a gift bag into Shaunda’s hand as well. See what I mean? Hall of Fame material.

Me? All I got was a handshake from the Preacher. Oh yeah, and an invitation to return to this beautiful setting to share my Christmas worship event next year. That’s awesome enough right? But don’t worry. Soon I would receive another gift.

The distance between the Pastor’s home and the RV park where “The Virge” patiently awaited our return is, according to the GPS, is a journey of only thirty-one miles.  The drive however, takes more than an hour and fifteen minutes. Does that give you any clue? Along the roadway the bright morning sun cut through the fog lying in the trees and valleys via a thousand distinct rays. The fall air was crisp, the sky was crystal clear. We slowed or stopped on several occasions to photograph the many deer who came near the road to encourage us on our way. As we wound through the mountains we came to a stop one more time on a bridge over a picturesque river that captured the sunlight in hundred diamond shaped flashes. The only descriptive word I can grasp for this morning’s drive is “magical”. Oh what a morning.

Finally we pulled into a local restaurant safely back in Branson. The waitress took our drink order.  With the promise of a second morning cup on the way I settled back to help Makenna with her menu. Would it be “Piggy Pancakes” or “‘Slotta French Toast”? Once she determined her morning fare, I asked: “Do you want me to order for you, or will you handle this one yourself?”.

I was answered by a grin and a chuckle. “Poppi, I’ll handle this one myself”.

With only a slightly sheepish grin I replied, “Of course you will. I forgot that you’re nearly grown. You’re just not a little girl anymore”.

“That’s ok Poppi”, she immediately answered up. “I’ll always be your little princess”.

And there it was. My special gift.

Oh what a morning.

I feel quite certain that our waitress was a bit concerned about my emotional well being as she dropped off the biscuits and gravy.  Shaunda had her doubts as well. I also feel quite certain that it is just possible that I had just been hoodwinked. Nevertheless, it was a pretty shrewd move, and I was completely taken in.

Our two year JOURNEY OF A LIFETIME is nearly over, and once again I am reminded to never take one moment of life for granted. Special gifts sometimes come packaged in fancy bags or wrapped in shiny paper. Sometimes they are highlighted by the fog of an Ozark mountain morning illuminated by the rays of a freshly risen sun. Sometimes they are embodied in the handshake. Sometimes they are found in the help of a dear friend who refuses to forget you.

And every once in a while one of life’s greatest gifts are discovered in the eyes of a ten year old Granddaughter.

I am grateful for them all.

Oh what a morning.