Tag Archives: Family

Remember Covid?

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As I wiped the tears off of my 17-yr-old daughter’s face, I knew I was putting myself at risk of getting it (if I didn’t already have it). But if getting sick is the price for hugging the hurting, then it should be worth the price. I stood embracing the girl of my height, my hair color: my princess – whom I hadn’t heard cry in years. She looked down at her phone, revealing the emailed results that her covid test that morning had come back positive.

The pandemic had cancelled her senior homecoming game, senior play, junior and senior trips, junior and senior proms, senior retreat, among the plethora of other cancellations (including her grandfather’s funeral over a year ago). But now, the country was finally opening, and a black-tie dinner was scheduled to celebrate the seniors at the famous Angus Barn Steakhouse where they would give senior awards. Christine’s formal attire was at the tailor to be picked up in time for the banquet. We scheduled our own “senior trip” with some of her girlfriends to go to the beach the day after the event – before summer jobs and colleges distanced the high school friends.

The decorations for the graduation party – a balloon arch among them – filled our basement, including a poster-board of pictures of her from youth till now, several of my favorite pieces of her art and rose-gold plates and flatware. “Class of 2021” decked the halls and the caterer had the final count for tacos. A 40-minute video of snippets of her local theatre’s performances when she was “Alice” or “Dorothy” or the co-emcee for the Christmas play at church was loaded to loop in the background during the hours of mingling. We had hoped to add a Jane Eyre shot from that night – since she was so happy to have a local theatre performing when the school could not.

But now the theatre’s show “mustn’t go on.” The positive test crushed the party plans. The formal attire would stay at the tailor until the newest and personal quarantine was done – long after the event for which it was bought.

Though I had seen the opening night, my family never saw any of Christine’s theatrical performance as Jane Eyre, since it got cancelled by the second show. (She was amazing!) The graduation party the following day would be turned into a 2020-retro-style drive-by-and-wave for carryout tacos and I expected the RSVP’s numbers to reduce greatly. The poster-board moved to the driveway, the video stayed in my memory.

God is always on plan A!

I have repeated that to myself a lot this year with all of the cancellations. He is never wringing His hands, wondering what’s going to happen next. He has it under control. It was His plan A to have a different kind of grad party. It was His plan A to have her theatre performance recorded on opening night, so we can hopefully watch a video later. It was His plan A that some of the girls could not make the rescheduled beach trip. It was His plan A that all of her classmates would gather in their formals and have a nice dinner together with the senior parents for the awards ceremony, while Christine and I sat home and watched on Zoom from the couch. (I too tested positive later.) I think I almost cried when cancelling our hair appointments for the formal, since we had planned so long ago to get dolled up together.

But you know what else was in that “Plan A”? Blessings in the mix.

I was having her graduation party catered the next day – something I have never done in my home! God blessed us, because the food wasn’t ruined by sick people (us) touching it, and some people felt safe stopping by to get some, thanks to His planning a caterer before I knew we would need it.

The backwards “1” somehow seems appropriate.

His plan A involved being able to move the balloon arch outside.

His plan A allowed that she and I could sit on the front porch while people drove by, dropped off gifts, stopped to talk to one another – or even came and gave us a “risky” hug.

His plan A didn’t need any of my plan B’s; it was perfect and memorable.

Messy moments make the most memories.

But do we remember?

I had intended to write this letter four weeks ago, but while Christine’s covid was a runny nose for a few days, I had more of the nastiness of its fame – even cancelling my own trip to Florida the following week. When I sat down today (finally) to write you, I was surprised I couldn’t remember. I couldn’t remember what I had thought was worthy of gratitude or the drama that had tried to steal it. I had to look back at my prayer journal to remember all of the gifts I had received out of God’s plan A – which felt like my plan B, or C or Z.

  • Friends dropped off care packages – including freshly-squeezed juice for our health, our favorite snacks, coffee and even an Angus Barn care-package of a table cloth, homemade crackers with cheese and their famous chess pie, so we could enjoy a little bit of the princess-treatment while we watched the senior formal event from home.
  • After the graduation drive-by party, friends stayed with her out on that front porch till well after midnight. They were sharing, laughing and enjoying each other, making her feel so special, despite her feeling otherwise.
  • Health has become a greater blessing!! WOW! Sometimes we don’t recognize the blessing in health until it has been taken away… and restored. (See My Brain Tumor Letter to be reminded.)
  • That Tuesday at the formal awards event, it was announced that she was the valedictorian! What an honor! And you know what her speech was about? (I won’t spoil it, but the 5-minute speech is attached below.)

During those weeks of sickness, often when the delivery man arrived at the front door (where I liked to sit outside reading), I felt like I should be falling on the ground, yelling, “Unclean! Unclean!” (But that would have been weird.) Staying away from my family to stop the spread was tough and left us feeling like outcasts. But what a feeling! … to be reminded that THIS kind of outcast is EXACTLY whom Jesus reached out and TOUCHED!! The ones who were contagious! The ones who were “unclean!” The ones who were deserted by all! (Matt 8:1- 4)

When someone says, “Remember covid?” I am guessing I will remember the feeling of guilt over going “the wrong way” down the grocery aisle. I will likely remember the funny inconsistencies of “mask on,” “mask off,” “vax on,” “vax off.” On a more serious note, I will remember the angst of my son and his wife being separated from their son in ICU when my first grandchild was born prematurely, because somehow the hospital deemed it “safer” to have moms and dads visit at separate times from each other for the 7 weeks we waited to meet our little guy. I will likely remember my temper tantrums when I was “done with it,” as well as my cocky feeling that I must have been immune, because I had been exposed so many times and had never gotten it… till four weeks ago.

But now, I want to remember the blessings. Immeasurable blessings!… when I seek to find them. I am grateful I had written them in my prayer journal – and now for you – so I don’t forget them in the mess.

Oh how He loves you and me! Sometimes God’s “plan A” taking over my “plan A” is just the reminder of that love that I need. I always want to “remember covid,” (but I won’t give it the dignity of capital letters) because it’s a reminder of blessings of His plan A in this battle called life.

In love,

Terri

You shall remember all the way which the LORD your God has led you in the wilderness… (Deut 8:2)

P.S. My daughter’s 5-minute graduation speech summarized the feelings well. No, I did not help her write it, and maybe I uploaded it at the end of this letter, because I knew if you saw this, you wouldn’t want to read any of my stuff ever again:)! She’s pretty special!

Christine Brady’s 5-minute Valedictorian Speech

P.P.S. I won’t put the whole 40-minute home-movies video to loop at your next family dinner, but here was one of my favorite snippets: 9-year-old Christine in our church’s Christmas program with a little parody on Let it Go when she just “couldn’t control her desire to decorate.” Also, in lieu of the cancelled senior musical, the school did “Seniors Got Talent” in which Christine sang, “Don’t Know Why” (below).

A snippet of her song in a show, age 9.
Christine singing “Don’t Know Why” with her school’s jazz band

When your son asks you in time to come, saying, ‘What do the testimonies and the statutes and the judgments mean which the LORD our God commanded you?’ 21then you shall say to your son, ‘We were slaves to Pharaoh in Egypt, and the LORD brought us from Egypt with a mighty hand. 22‘Moreover, the LORD showed great and distressing signs and wonders before our eyes against Egypt, Pharaoh and all his household; 23He brought us out from there in order to bring us in, to give us the land which He had sworn to our fathers.’ (Deut 6:20-23)

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A Very Brady Italy

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Dear Lindsey,

After a full year of busyness, we were ready to convalesce as a family!

Of course we could do that in our basement, or at the lake, or at my kids’ favorite campground in Silver Lake Michigan, but we decided to get away – really AWAY – to Italy. (See video scrapbook below.)  We have been to Italy several times, most famously five years ago, when my husband Chris wrote his book, A Month of Italy.  

Thanks to Chris’s vacation advice, on this trip I suppressed my “task-oriented” self. I did not sort emails or work on my lists (despite how I wanted to, since I finally had time!). I didn’t count the calories of the gelato and tried to stop thinking about the stress at home; I enjoyed my family.  My quiet times got deeper. On a true vacation, life can be whittled down to what really matters, to release the stuff that really doesn’t.* As I forced myself away from the daily grind, I was able to think of the long-term-vision that seemed to have taken a backseat to busyness this year. New ideas; new goals; fresh brain! Ahh vacation.

This vacation wasn’t as entertaining as our original month-long vacation, since
the kids are older (now 18, 15, 11 and 10), and we are probably a little more seasoned visitors of the country. However, our oldest leaves for college next week, and we all seemed to cherish every moment as a family of six, knowing we will be having dinners of five too soon.

We had our funny moments:

  • When the woman said in her Italian accent that she was a “ballet” dancer in Florence, and I misunderstood and asked her if she was a “belly” dancer. Bahaha! No judging here!
  • When Chris said in perfect Italian, “Posso …formaggio?” when he noticed our table lacked parmigiano cheese. The kids quickly pointed out that he had actually said “Can I … cheese?” which of course went viral on our vacation as the kids often asked if they could…cheese…in Italian.
  • We listened to Italian songs that Chris had downloaded onto his phone. We couldn’t tell what the words actually meant, but that didn’t stop us from singing along in full volume! It reminded us of a funny commercial when a family is singing along in a different language, not knowing the horrendous words they are saying. So Nate (age 15) was careful to not sing anything inappropriate and instead  sang words that he did know – which were limited to food: “Posso Formaggio! Latte! Manzo! Pasta! Pizza!”  He sang to the tune of whatever song was playing – in full tenor voice like Luciano Pavarotti. (And made me laugh!)
  • We played a card game we had just learned with great friends who came to visit North Carolina in early June. Like golf, the goal is to get the lowest score by getting rid of all of your cards. Hysterically, Casey could not get rid of cards, and while the rest of us were within one hundred points of each other, Casey hung out 300 points behind last place! “Casey, you stink at this!” Chris had said in surprise, since Casey usually seems to have a knack for winning. Chris’s uncharacteristic quote again went viral as the kids enjoyed repeating Dad’s funny statement toward Casey any chance they got, often in the form of a rap song.

We had our amazing moments:

  • Chris took us to Orvieto where we had not been in four years. Without GPS or maps, he drove through the town, right up to the driveway of the villa we had rented (which was no easy task to find four years ago WITH a GPS.) He then took us to a restaurant further up the mountain where we had chingiale (wild boar) sausage and pasta to repeat our order from back then. (OK – maybe that is not “amazing” to you, but I was amazed, since I can hardly get around in my own country without a GPS!)
  • At our favorite villa, Il Trebbio, outside of Cortona where we have visited several times, our rental neighbors turned out to be from Raleigh, NC, and were even taking the same flight arrangement home after their five-week stay. Mondo piccolo. (Small world!)

IMG_8479

We missed our weird moments.

“Nothing weird has happened to us this trip!” Casey (age 18) said on one of the last nights. It was almost sad for us.

  • We didn’t have a motorcycle crash into us after popping our tire with his foot peg when he passed too close to our van in Rome traffic.
  • We didn’t have a 12-passenger mini-bus as our rental car, even though Italians are still shocked that we take four children on trips.
  • No child said, “I forgot my shoes” when we were already an hour into the drive for a day-trip to an ancient city.
  • We didn’t have any other child say, “Me too,” realizing he also had forgotten to put on shoes for the same day-trip.
  • We didn’t have any accidental orders of grappa (which Chris swears is kerosene, but Italians drink it) or pasta al scolio (which was full of octopus and squid, not meatballs like the ordering child had hoped).
  • No scorpions came in through the window at 1am, scaring us into leaving the windows closed for the duration of the week with temperatures in the high 90’s – without air conditioning.
  • No man screamed at us, “Allevamento!” (which means “breeding farm”) into a crowd at the market when he saw we had four children.
  • We didn’t see the dog – which looked like a seeing-eye-dog – wearing a shirt that said, “Womanizer.”

We disconnected in order to be reconnected.

IMG_8502 (3)We rested. We bonded.

We turned off electronics. (Turning off electronics put the “family” back into “family vacation.”)

We played cards. (And all the kids are at a competitive level now.)

We swam. (And kids are big enough that nobody is in massive peril.)

We read…and read and read… (and the kids did too).

We enjoyed early mornings with singing birds and late mornings, catching up on a year’s worth of sleep.

We enjoyed the views from the air-conditioned car, while miles of sunflowers and lavender, wheat and hay passed by our windows. Hundred-year-old cypress trees seemed old until we realized they lined the driveways of six-hundred-year-old estates. Grapes hung down near our outdoor dinner table, while grape leaves brought the welcomed shade on the canopy over our heads. Crops formed their signature squares that make the land of Tuscany so beautiful from its mountaintops.

Glorious vacation.

Family bonding.

Minds at rest.

A heart that has had a good vacation is what makes home feel sweet.  IMG_8676

In gratitude for vacation,

Terri Brady

Video Scrapbook of Bradys in Italy:

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* “Going to the cross reminds me of what really matters, so I can release the stuff that really doesn’t.” – Kimberly Wagner

Funny Family Dinner

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mcginnis dinner table

Dear Lindsey,

“All Great Change in America begins at the dinner table,” said Ronald Reagan.

I have often heard that the ties that bind a family get tied at the table, but it takes so much effort to make a dinner with 6 people happen! Though every night would be a perfect frequency of dinners together, too often six conflicting Brady calendars don’t allow for that perfection.

We cherish the memories of dinners we can procure. One such dinner a month ago was worthy of capturing for later smiles.

Before I cite the dinner conversation, I must tell you some background about my husband, Chris. He is a best-selling author, influential and entertaining speaker, has almost 200,000 followers on Twitter, obtained 2 degrees in engineering, raced motocross as a teen and loves sports. He has been my Mr. Wonderful from the beginning, so much that my mother started calling him “MW” early in our dating. His ability to laugh at himself is one of his greatest qualities, and that alone has allowed so many of his fans to relate to him, especially our children. Knowing that Dad whom they have on a pedestal has made mistakes and still turned out ok has encouraged them to persevere. Chris’s description on the back of his book, Rascal – Making a Difference by Becoming an Original Character says, “…He has one of the world’s most unique resumes: including experience with a live bug in his ear, walking through a paned-glass window, chickening out from the high-dive in elementary school, destroying the class ant-farm in third grade, losing a spelling bee on the word “use,” jack-hammering his own foot, and more recently – sinking his snowmobile in a lake.” That background might be helpful for the following Brady dinner conversation:

Nate (12): “My teacher asked if we thought our parents were perfect. I asked him, ‘which one?’”

(We laughed.)

Nate: “By the way, I got in trouble today in class for talking, and the teacher made me put my name on the board. She said, ‘All right, anyone who was talking, go to the front and put your name on the board. So I did. But I wrote it REALLY neatly, because I knew you would like that, Mom.”

(I laughed that he thought the neatness of his name would make a difference when putting his name on the board for the offense.)

Chris: “Maybe you should have written, ‘your name on the board.’”

(The kids laughed.)

Me: “That’s why Dad spent so much time in the hallway during school.”

Chris: “Yeah, they pretty much moved my desk to the hall.”

Nate: “Maybe I should try to get that to happen to me, so I can be by myself and won’t be distracted.”

Chris: “No, It’s really distracting, because every person that walks by with a bathroom pass looks at you, points at you and laughs at you.”

Christine (9) (innocently):“Why would the teacher put you in the hall, Daddy?”

Chris: “I don’t know! I didn’t do anything wrong. I just made people laugh, that’s all. Oh, and the ant farm shaking incident. I remember that one really well.”

(We laughed.)

It was Brady story #447, “The Ant Farm Shaking Incident”…the time Chris strangely felt compelled to pick up the class’s ant farm and shake it like mad, causing the teacher to walk on top of desks to close the distance FAST to grab Chris before the ants were dead. The teacher was too late.

James Dobson once said, “Unless you are in regular, meaningful, relatable conversation with your child when he is four, you can’t expect to start any meaningful conversation when he is fourteen.”

May you be blessed with family dinners and stories so familiar they’re numbered; and when your son has to write his name (neatly) on the board, just imagine him telling that story to his own kids one day when they have their dad on a pedestal. Maybe the story will even get numbered.

God bless,

Terri

Other Letters you may like:

 

Climb the Ladder

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When I survey the wondrous cross

On which the Prince of Glory died

My richest gain I count but lost

And pour contempt on all my pride.

I wrote the words to that old hymn from Isaac Watts in my journal, while I fought back internal emotional pain. I WANTED to pour contempt on all my pride, but it kept haunting its possessor.

Then I decided to really try to “survey the wondrous cross” and I went into a little daydream that morning in my quiet time, which I will never forget. It was a daydream that forced surrender of my heart, once again.

In the distance, I saw not one, but three crosses on the hill. A crowd of people surrounded the base. There was noise: people’s voices, but I couldn’t understand what they were saying.

I stared at the center cross as I walked closer, praying that I would stay focused on Him,

3 crosses by Nicole Avereyn

3 crosses by Nicole Avereyn

despite the distractions of this crazy surrounding world. I wanted to “be one” with other people as He was one with God, so that people would know why He came; yet I battled conflict in my heart. I wanted to survey that wondrous cross and leave the conflict behind.

I saw guards, Roman I assume, in costume as the movies had portrayed. Some spectators on the hill were on their knees, in a deep mourning wail. Others were shouting insults toward the cross. Others were simply walking away, not able to “survey” any longer.

I looked at His face. Jesus’ eyes were still open. He looked down on all of the people – the crying, the shouting and even the leaving and I remembered His words, “Forgive them; they know not what they do.”

What wondrous love is this that He could forgive even in agony?

Agony caused by lashes of a whip tied especially for breaking skin on His bare back while authorities held His flesh taut for maximum tearing.

Agony caused by friends, even His closest, who had deserted Him. One betrayed with a kiss, others with their departure or denial.

Agony caused by a crown of thorns forced onto His head to pierce the skin, while they mocked Him as a “king”.

Agony caused by taunting hours before, “If You are so great, why don’t you tell us who hit You?” as they struck his blindfolded face.

I imagined how He must have felt as people sang, “Hosanna!” at His coming to town, so grateful for His arrival; then in contradiction, people screamed, “Crucify Him!” just days later, treating Him like the criminals on the adjacent crosses.

“How did He restrain from fighting back?” I wondered when I recalled his accusers bringing Him to Pontius Pilate, telling the lies that He had denounced taxes and that He was undermining the government. (Luke 23) He stayed focused on His message: He was the Son of God. When King Herod tried Him, Jesus never even spoke, as if wrestling with the pig wasn’t worth words. He was at peace with allowing God’s will to be done through Him. “Why can’t I do that?!” I wondered.

Crucifixion, a slow, lingering electric chair of the era was so cruel, so public, so naked. There was no way to “look good” even as the Son of God hanging on that wood. Nails pierced his hands and feet.

Three men died that day at Calvary. One on the cross next to Jesus jeered at Him, while the other, in full belief said, “Jesus, remember me when You come into Your kingdom.” That is when Jesus told the latter, “I tell you the truth: today you will be with me in paradise.”

I broke out of the dream and thought back onto myself. I could see me saying, “I’m kind of having a bad day here. My emotions are out of control; I’d really like some time on this cross where I don’t have to deal with you people.” Yet Christ had a message to relay: that heaven awaits; and it is waiting for anyone who believes – even in his last hour.

My daydreaming continued, and I found a ladder. I set it next to Jesus’ cross, and began to climb. I wanted to survey the Savior.

The sweat, mixed with blood, poured from His body. I recalled His “sweating blood” during a deep prayer just nights before, though His closest friends’ loyalty faded in sleep. I meditated on even Him, asking His heavenly Father for a change of The Plan, yet what He wanted was that God’s will be done.

The daydream paused as personal thoughts came in: That’s what I want!: God’s will be done. Yet so much conflict, how can it be?

In my daydream, my actions continued, I wanted to get closer, to talk to Jesus as He hung on that cross, looking down on the people. “Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,” came to mind from another verse of the same hymn.

From His view I could see His accusers, and mine too. “He died for them, also,” I was reminded.

I leaned toward Him to whisper, bringing my lips close to His ear and tried to form words. Thoughts flooded my mind:

“Jesus, SHE won’t return my phone call!”

“Jesus, I am so jealous that I didn’t get what I wanted.”

“Jesus, I have been WRONGED, and they are going to make me look bad.”

A smile came to my face, in self-laughter. What?! I would NEVER have been able to say that into His ear from atop the ladder! How petty! How selfish! He died for me, can I not live a moment for Him? After climbing that ladder to truly survey the wondrous cross the only thoughts that could come to mind were unsaid, choked back by tears:

“I am SO unworthy of this sacrifice.”

“I am so sorry.”

“Thank you.”

He glanced in my direction as if to answer my unspoken words, “I know. It’s why I came.”

As I snapped out of my daydream, tears flowed as I realized how petty my prayers had been that morning.

He gave His life for me; can’t I live a moment for Him?

When my pride gets in the way: I climb the ladder.

When I feel like I have been wronged: I climb that ladder.

When I am jealous, I climb the ladder.

If I am talking too much about myself, I need to climb that ladder.

If I am feeling perfect enough to start correcting others, I climb the ladder.

If I am more worried about the scrutiny of man than the scrutiny of God, I CLIMB THE LADDER.

Are my thoughts worthy of whispering in His ear from the top of the ladder?

Whisper in His ear about the parents who just lost children this week. He cares.

Pray to Him about the woman lost in the dark world of depression. He’s holding her.

Ask Him in His ear how best to be His testimony in this lost world and He would be relieved to know someone read His Words so they would outlast His agony.

I had “open heart surgery” that morning. I surrendered. His will be done.

He has the whole world in His hands, not my hands, and that is where it needs to stay.

I pray this holiday season that we may be ONE so the world will know that the Lord above sent Jesus Christ as our Savior (John 17:21): He humbled Himself to human birth – in a stable; He submitted to baptism – by another man; He washed filthy feet – of those lesser than He; He died a criminal’s death – alongside heathen, for God’s glory. May we follow His example to true humility; I am above nothing. Peace on earth comes into our hearts when we can rest in God’s will being done.

And if conflict arises, even if only inside of us, may we climb the ladder to rise above the offense, survey the cross, and take time to whisper in His ear, “Thank You.”

Pride/Ego Summary of Symptoms:

Beginning introduction: (Turkey Tastes Better Without Lily Pads.)

Other symptoms (and this list is probably endless):

  • refusing to forgive/bitterness
  • ranking people as more or less valuable than one another
  • talking down about others (close relative to talking about oneself)
  • resisting new information

With love,

Terri Brady

 

Stop in the Name of the Law

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Dear Lindsey,

“Gasp!”

Ok, now that you got that out of the way, I can share the story that made you do it.

As we continue this series on symptoms of pride/ego, I can go back a few decades to high school again. Unfortunately, I can probably think of more recent examples, but my pride couldn’t handle sharing those 🙂 ; it’s easier to think it was only a problem of my youth.

Next symptom: Thinking I am above the law.

My high school’s shop teacher, a former Army Colonel, was my neighbor and he had a cute little poodle, “Cocoa.” For easy cash, I often took care of Cocoa when its owners were out of town. Rather than walking down the block to my house when he returned from his trip, “the Colonel” (as we students called him) chose to pay me when he saw me in the school cafeteria on the Monday after my pet-sitting.

This led to many jokes of which the Colonel was unaware:

He would approach my lunch table full of teens of both genders, hand me money and say, “Thanks for last night.” Or: “This is for the weekend.”

As he left, snickers would fill our table. Soon, they would see him coming and get silent to see what words he would use when he handed me cash:  “Here he comes to pay Terri for her ‘services.’ Be quiet!”

I never mentioned the torture to him, but I cringed each time he approached.

One weekend the Colonel had asked me to pet-sit, but after accepting the job, I realized I had a commitment to go somewhere with my family for the weekend. I forgot to tell the Colonel that I was unable to keep poor little Cocoa. I didn’t remember until Monday morning when the Colonel approached my lunch table.

The table hushed in anticipation of his words.

“Thanks for the weekend,” he said as he slid a ten-dollar bill into my hand in front of my friends.

I gulped.

I must have forgotten to tell him I couldn’t take care of his dog.

My heart raced, but my ego ignored the urge. “You’re welcome,” I said and took the cash, hoping the Colonel would disappear quickly.

He never asked me to take care of Cocoa again.

During my senior year, my parents (unknowing of my story) suggested I have the Colonel write a recommendation for me for college, since an Army Colonel would be a good advocate to have. “No, thanks,” I said.

How I wish I could go back and change what I did! The Colonel knew I hadn’t taken care

A brown standard poodle at five weeks

of that dog. I can only imagine the damage in his house when he returned. A starving, thirsty dog probably left messes all over and destroyed anything in its path.  I don’t know why the Colonel chose to see if I would be a big enough person to admit it; maybe he knew the years of guilt would be worse than the verbal confrontation. I have tried searching for him online several times in my adulthood so I could apologize- to no avail. God has forgiven me, but forgiving myself has taken longer.

I don’t know why I thought “Thou shalt not lie” (Exodus 20) didn’t apply to me, but I did.

I can remember the following week, justifying the fib in my mind:

  • What was I supposed to do? Everyone was listening!
  • I didn’t really “lie” per se; I just said, “thank you.” (note: It’s still “bearing false witness.”)
  • It was only $10.
  •  It’s just a dog.

Ugh.

Thinking a law (especially a law of God) doesn’t apply to me is a symptom of pride.

When telling a negative story, I prefer to use myself as the example, so I can use others as positive examples, but obviously in this world, there are many examples of actors, business owners and presidents who have had an ego that caused them to put themselves above a law…or two.

Huge scandals begin with a small thought in a heart. One little lie, because it was only $10, leads to millions unless the ego gets under control.

  • “I deserve to take these supplies home from work, because no one notices anyway,” is justifying stealing.
  • “I can watch these movies because I am an adult now,” justifies adultery.
  • “I am running late because of traffic,” (when really we left our house later than we should have and happened to also run into traffic) OR “I’ll be there in 10 minutes,” (when we know it is really 20, but we don’t want the appointment to leave) is still lying.
  • “That rule doesn’t apply to me, because I am so important to this team,” is taking advantage of your blessings.

Thanks to an analogy from my husband, Chris, I have often imagined that one day God will play the movie of my life back to review my behavior, while I watch beside Him. My stomach churning would never allow for popcorn during that movie. I imagine that it is MY life and no one else can be seen in the film. My heart has a voice in the movie, so my thoughts, actions and words are of equal volume, but the circumstances around the words, thoughts and actions cannot be seen, only the deeds for which I am responsible. My legs weaken when I see the laws that I took so lightly, thinking I was only doing what “anyone would do.” I do not like myself in so many of the scenes of those home movies.

Thankfully, God is not done with me yet. We can repent of our sins and ask forgiveness from those whom we have hurt. (Acts 3:19) He can make us white as snow again. (Isaiah 1:18) Repentance begins with recognizing the need for repentance. Pride blocks recognition of our own sin and our need of a Savior.  Pride is the eclipse that blocks the Son from being seen. May I decrease that He may increase (John 3:30), and with that decrease, I can recognize that I am above no law.

Although God’s laws have no exceptions (Hebrews 10:16), neither does His grace. (Lamentations 3:22, Hebrews 4:16, Ephesians 2:4) Believe in forgiveness through the Lord Jesus Christ, and you will be saved. (Acts 16:31) Wow! God is amazing!

Although I chose to write about ego/pride during this holiday season because of its tremendous negative impact on relationships, I guess it’s becoming obvious that the ramifications go far beyond the family Christmas dinner and into eternity.  May we gain strength to live with eternal perspective, always.

God bless,
Terri Brady

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Call Mom!

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J.R. (6), who is smart as a whip, is just learning phone manners. I try to teach my kids to answer our home phone, “Hello, Brady Residence, this is _______,”  as I was taught as a child.

He has even memorized my 10-digit phone number. He called me once last week, and it went like this:

Me: “Hello?”

J.R.: “Brady residence, this is J.R. Who is this?”

Me: “This is Mom. You called me, so you don’t say the ‘Brady residence’ part, ok?”

I have been playing the piano for Casey’s school choir one day/week. Since I homeschool the younger three (ages 11, 8 and 6), they are left by themselves- a new thing now that the 14-yr-old goes to school.  I guess, because it is new that they are home without Casey, they feel the need to call me. (even when Chris is home!!) Last Monday, my phone had seven missed calls from the “Brady residence” in the one hour I was gone!

So Friday, when I left for a short appointment, I gave more explicit instructions. “I am only going for one hour. Please do not make my phone ring, unless it is your last call before dialing 911.”

I was gone ten minutes when my phone rang.

Me: “Hello?”

J.R.: “Hi Mom, what time is it?”

Me: “3:00”

J.R. “ok, thanks.” click.

I said a quiet prayer, thanking God he hadn’t called 911…yet.

 

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“The man who does not read good books has no advantage over the man who cannot read them.” – Mark Twain

Dear Lindsey,

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“Mom, I need the bug swatter thing.”

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After bedtime, Casey (3) was at the top of the stairs yelling for me.  When I arrived, he said, “Can you please get me the bug swatter thing? There are two bugs: one here [by the gate] and one in your room.” I said , “What were you doing in my room? You’re supposed to be in bed.” His eyes got HUGE as if to wonder how I knew he was in my room.  Finally, he answered, “I was looking to see if you had any bugs.”

Trip Advisor on the Guilt Trip: Terrorism

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Terrorism.

Dictionary.com defines it as “systematic use of intimidation to achieve some goal.”

I never thought of using it to describe my child’s methods, but Chris was using the word correctly (of course!) when he referred to our 17-month-old.

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