Good Memories, Good Parents...

I've been doing a lot of writing lately. Working perhaps.....maybe.....hopefully toward a book. To set the stage for the story I want to tell of God's hand and work in my life, I realized I needed to begin with my childhood. I was anxious about this at first - didn't think I had many childhood memories. Boy was I wrong. My fingers couldn't type quick enough to keep up with the occasions that filled my mind. Memories like.....

...the many girly games of "house" played with my older brother Andy. Though I have no clue how I managed to con him into these dramas, I distinctly remember them always containing some climactic scene where me or my best friend Ashley would have a baby.

...the day I hauled Nestle cocoa from the kitchen pantry back to my bedroom in my yellow plastic shopping cart. Somehow the cap managed to fall off, leaving dark cocoa powder all over our clean ivory carpet and leaving my little mind no other option than to clean it up with soap and water. Boy did that get interesting!

...dad's bedtime snacks! Toast and honey always took the prize. To this day I remember the crunchy-yet-soggy texture magic that happened when the melted butter and warm honey oozed down into the crispy crevices of that single piece of bread. Dad always sliced it in nine pieces, and I always saved the middle piece for last. No crusty edges – just pure, gooey, toasty perfection! 

...the night that dad was lifting weights and putting away laundry at the same time. Bare-chested, he decided it would be fun to get a laugh out of me by modeling mom's bra. Classic!

...mom's errands. Mom would often leave the house and say she was going to run "errands." Every time she did that I supposed she was going to spend time with a young lady at our church named Erin. I guess I thought they were quite good friends.

...the day I busted Andy's little slam-dunk trampoline by jumping on it in my church shoes.

...me and Andy's tadpole colonies. Every spring we would visit the nearby streams and ponds, collect tiny black tadpoles, and relocate them to our plastic, backyard kiddie-pool where we watched them turn into frogs and jump away! 

...Sunday afternoon 2-on-2 basketball. Mom and Andy vs. me and Dad. Mom and Andy always won. I found it quite frustrating.

...the day my mom took me to the principal's office! She was my first grade teacher, and we had these 

 good behavior charts out in the hallway. If we were good enough each day we would get stickers for our charts. Well, one girl brought her own stickers from home and snuck out in the hall to embelish her chart. Seeing the need to deliver justice, I also snuck out to remedy the situation. I wasn't slick enough though - I got caught red handed - and sent to the Principal's office! That was a very intimidating day for me. I think I may still be recovering :).

...me and Andy's "sicknesses." Mema had cable TV, we did not. The magic of Flipper happened on Mema's TV, it did not happen at our house. Andy and I discovered that a convincing show of puniness at school would win us at trip to cable TV at Mema's house for the day! Shh, don't tell mom.

As I've recalled these memories, I've realized afresh what incredible parents I have. Parents who filled my childhood home with love and safety and stability. Parents who were not too consumed in their jobs to spend time with me and my brother. Parents who worked through any disagreements they may have had in order to stay together and stay in love for life. Parents who, with the help of God, provided a home that enabled the wonderful memories I have today.

Though I do not have children yet, I pray that God will enable Nick and I to provide this sort of home for our children. If you have kids, of any age, I beg you to be intentional in your raising of them: that they may enjoy these sort of memories one day and that they may have a home that empowers them to thrive in our dark world.