SAFE IN OUR FATHERS ARMS

“SAFE IN OUR FATHERS ARMS”

My daddy loved to tell jokes and was a storyteller.  Now some of them probably were not fit for my childish ears; but since I was a Daddy’s girl, and was around him as much as possible, I heard most of them anyway.  Maybe I caught his joy in telling stories and that is why I too enjoy telling them.  Regardless, stories that are passed down are the things of which “Roots” are made.

My family consisted of my parents, a brother who was nine years older, a sister six years older, and a brother six years younger than me.  Basically I was an only child, and my older siblings have told me for years that I was spoiled. “Of course I was, and I can’t think of anyone more deserving!” I always laughingly replied.

But, there were some things that helped that happen.  By watching the altercations between my parents and older siblings, I learned what, and what not to do to avoid problems.  Another words I learned from their mistakes. They say salespeople are born and not made, and this is partially true, but you can improve your skills by applying those methods that have been proven to work. The same is true in our daily physical and spiritual life.

They also said that my “Daddy never spanked me.”  That is true as well.  All he had to do was give me that look, you know the one I’m talking about, or tell me how disappointed he was and it would just break my heart.  As an adult and a parent of four children, I have found that each child is different and the theory of using only one approach does not fit all.

When my youngest son was three, he didn’t eat his supper.  Later, when it was time to go to bed he said he was hungry.  So I sat him back at the table, and placed the same meal in front of him.  “Yuck,’ he said, “I don’t like this!” and refused to eat.  So I told him to go on to bed.  As he stomped down the hall he said, “You Stupid Mama!”  Well, using my father’s parenting skills, I thought I would “put the fear of God in him” and called him back.  I got down on my knees so we would be on the same level and asked him a question that would have scared me to death.  “Just how stupid do you think I am?” I asked.  “You real stupid Mama!” he boldly replied.  Well, what to do now?  I just asked this child to tell me how stupid he thought I was, and he gave me his opinion, which really limited my rebuking and punishing options  “Well, you may think I’m stupid, but I’m not hungry and I ate my supper, so go on to bed,” was my reply. 

We have an earthly father to emulate, but we also have a Heavenly Father who has given us some great guidelines on parenting children.  We would be wise to use both!  Sometimes the Biblical directions of “spare the rod and spoil the child,” needs to be applied.  My youngest child is by far the most strong willed, and even though she is not my biological offspring, my husband says that she is very much like me.  I have to use my best salesperson approach with her and quite often that doesn’t work, and the rod has to be applied to her backside.

One weekend, when my daughter was seven, she hadn’t lived with us long; we were visiting with her biological brother, his adoptive mother, and her mother which we call Granny J….   We were all seated at a restaurant when my daughter asked, “Granny J, does xxxxx (her brother) ever get whippings?”  She replied, “Well, yes sometimes he does.” Then Granny J went on to ask “Do you ever get a whipping?” “Oh yes, and there are two kind of whippings,” my daughter replied.

Now she definitely has all of our attention.  “Now what kind of whippings would that be?’ Granny J asked.  “Well,” my daughter replied, “Sometimes I get a butt-whooping and sometimes I get an ass-whooping!”  Wow, as hard as it is to believe, the table remained silent.  I’m still in shock, when Granny J, trying not to laugh, said, “Now, tell me the difference.”  Again my daughter replied, “Well, a butt-whooping is when your mother isn’t sure that you knew what you did was wrong, and an ass-whooping is when you knew it was wrong and did it anyway!”

A revelation to me was that while administering the “rod” I obviously must have made the distinction between the two, like “I’m gonna whip your butt, or I’m gonna set your little ass on fire!”  However it did prove the point to me that she did know right from wrong, but sometimes made the “wrong” choice.  Don’t we all!  Life is about making constant choices some for the good and some are bad.  But you can be sure that if God said, “Spare the rod and spoil the child,” that the same thing applies to His children too.  So the next time when you know to do right and you choose to do wrong, be prepared, because God is gonna give you ass-whooping!

Now back to my being Daddy’s girl.  He loved to hunt anything, squirrels, rabbits, coon, deer, and possum; if it was edible he hunted it. And yes, we did eat possum, although it doesn’t appeal to me, but as I told my youngest son, “When you’re hungry you’ll eat what is provided for you.”

One night when I was very young I begged to go coon hunting with Daddy.  Of course, he gave in but not before telling me that it was going to be a rather long hunt and that I was probably going to get very tired.  This didn’t dissuade me.  After about an hour of traipsing over the mountains, I did indeed become tired.  Patiently, he laid me on the ground, covered me with his coat, and told me he would come back in about an hour to take me home.  You know, even though it was dark and I was alone, I don’t remember being scared.  I was asleep when he came back.

You know that’s how our fellowship with our Heavenly Father is supposed to be, complete trust.

SAFE IN THE ARMS OF JESUS

Safe in the arms of Jesus, Safe on His gentle breast;
There by His love o’ershaded, Sweetly my soul shall rest.
Hark! ’tis the voice of angels, Borne in a song to me,
Over the fields of glory, Over the jasper sea.

Refrain:  Sing this between each verse for optimum benefit
Safe in the arms of Jesus, Safe on His gentle breast;
There by His love o’ershaded, Sweetly my soul shall rest.

Safe in the arms of Jesus, Safe from corroding care,
Safe from the world’s temptations; Sin cannot harm me there.
Free from the blight of sorrow, Free from my doubts and fears;
Only a few more trials, Only a few more tears!

Jesus, my heart’s dear Refuge, Jesus has died for me;
Firm on the Rock of Ages, Ever my trust shall be.
Here let me wait with patience, Wait till the night is o’er;
Wait till I see the morning, Break on the golden shore.

                                    Candid Conversations -  With Carolyn Lee