STOP! PLEASE READ! I NEED YOUR HELP!

Geez! I hope that got your attention, because I really need you to read this and help me out! 

Last night I was so inspired by the words of a fellow blogger.  I don't even know how I came upon her post, but it really got me. It got me so much that I just couldn't sleep. Now, there's nothing in her post to indicate to me that she's a Christian. She may be or not. Right now it doesn't matter to me. Her words rattled something inside of me, and it has brought a little discussion on my Facebook page as well.

After reading this blog post, I did what many of us do. I start clicking other links within that post, and to call it going on a rabbit trail would be an understatement. Only this time, it led me somewhere. It led me to an idea, and that idea took on life and breathed in my face, 

"YOU could do this!" 

Tucked away in a far corner of my church on the eastside of Detroit, is a gem of a ministry. It's a food pantry. It's called "My Father's Business", and that friend, is exactly what's going on in there. 

MFB is run totally by volunteers who have been serving for more than a decade. I know most of these volunteers because my husband and I had the amazing privilege to be the directors of MFB for quite a few years. These are good people. These are Jesus people. They are His hands and His feet, loving and caring for the poor, as if Our Savior Himself were there on the second and fourth Saturdays of each month. They do it because they love the Lord and they love His people. They have His heart, because, don't you know, He loved the poor! 

I'm stepping out in faith here. I'm stepping out of the proverbial boat. I'm jumping off the cliff.

This is where you come in. 

I want to help, but I can't do this alone. 

The holidays are almost upon us and that means that Thanksgiving is just around the corner. 

I would like to bless My Father's Business with the ability to provide 50 complete Thanksgiving meals to those who come for assistance. 

It costs on average about $40.00 for one meal. I'm talking about the stuff I would serve my family. Not substandard. If I wouldn't serve it on my Thanksgiving table, it won't be good enough to buy for someone else. 

$40 x 50 meals = $2000.00

Forty dollars is all it would take to provide joy to a family sitting around their Thanksgiving table, without worrying about how they will have to skip a bill to provide a holiday meal for their family. A warm, cozy, nutritious turkey and all the fixin's. 

The single mom trying to make ends meet.

The senior on a fixed income.

The family whose Daddy just lost his job. 

For some of us, forty dollars is a drop in the bucket. 

For some of us, that's a few less trips to Starbucks this month.

 But for some, it's down right impossible.

I'll do the shopping. I'll do the delivering to the pantry when it's all gathered.



 Visit Paypal and send $40 to schultzdd@gmail.com,
and I'll take care of the rest. I'll even give you a receipt, if you request one! 

I am SO very thankful for your donation!

If you can't do $40, maybe $20 would be easier, and I can link your money with another $20 donor to buy a meal. Whatever you can do would be so helpful. Maybe you can only donate $10.
Five dollars would be greatly appreciated!
No gift is too small.
It's that simple! I'll do all the leg work! 

You'll get the blessing!  

If we raise more than the required amount for 50 meals, the rest will be donated to
My Father's Business.

You can check back to this post periodically, and I'll post our progress in the comment section. 

So, I'm kinda sick to my stomach pushing "Publish" on this one, but that's what faith is. 

What's the worst that can happen, right? No one responds and I'll look like a fool.

But, but, but! If YOU respond, and the next person responds, and the next, and the next, WE can accomplish something amazing for those in need and for this great ministry! 

I need your help!

Will you help? 

 

Happy Third Birthday, Mister Man!

Mister Man…

On this, the weekend of your third birthday, Gigi doesn’t have a lot of words. You probably don’t know what writer’s block is, but Gigi has it.

But my heart. What is my heart? Broken? Full? Yes. A little bit of both.

I'm kind of a mess right now. You can ask Jesus. He has to listen to me go and on, every day, all day. He's so patient isn't He?

But how could I not write to you again? Each year since it happened. Each year a letter. Each year fingers to the keyboard sending words to you.

Each year one year closer.

To Jesus.

To you, Mister Man.

If things go the way of the natural order of things, I should see you with my own eyes soon. Soon is relative, but I can't wait to lay my eyes on you, sweet baby boy.

But you're not a baby anymore, are you?

I asked Jesus this morning how that works? Are you still a babe in His arms, or do you grow each year like you would if you were here? I wish I knew. It doesn't really matter, I guess, but I would like to know how to picture you in my mind.

I picture you three. I picture you walking like a little man. I picture you catching balls and learning how to throw overhand. I'll bet you've learned to ride a tricycle and do you love puzzles?

Something I read said that a three year old understands the concepts of "now", "soon", and "later".

I get that.

Now you are not here.

Soon I will see you.

Later, we'll all be together. Your Mama and your Daddy, and your two beautiful sisters. Gigi and Pippy, Grandma and Grandpa, your aunts and uncles and cousins.

Each year that passes is one year closer to you.

Until then...

I heard this song this year, Mister Man. Every time I hear it, something gets in my eyes and they leak. You probably don't know anything about that, do you? The Bible says that there are no tears in Heaven.

I want to share the song with you. I also want anyone reading this tonight, who is missing someone who has gone to Heaven, to hear it and be comforted by it's message.


So, my precious little guy. How do I end this letter?

I'll end by taking another look at your sweet face on the picture and by kissing those little lips so tenderly.

I asked Jesus to give you a kiss and a giant hug for me and wish you a Happy Birthday. Did He do that? I'll bet that He did. He is so good!

Now, you are not here.

Soon I will see you.

Later we will all be together.

Happy, Happy Birthday, Mister Man!

Gigi loves you so.

1 Thessalonians 4: 14 "We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in Him."

 

What's The Big Deal?

Much to the dismay of many people, we waited. Waited for news that Kate, of Will and Kate of course, had gone into labor. With baited breath we watched Facebook and Twitter and Fox News for the royal birth announcement. Would it be a boy or a girl?

"It's a boy!" announced across the news wires. 

A future King, third in line for the throne, had been born! 

As if we hadn't waited long enough, now we would wait again. I'm kind of ashamed to admit that I waited four hours. Staring at a wooden door, flanked by bobbies. Four hours. Moving from in front of my computer screen, to carrying around my iPhone, lest I miss the world's first glimpse of the bundle.

It was worth every minute of the wait. Cute as can be, out came Will and Kate with the yet unnamed future king in their arms. The crowd cheered. I smiled big. I got tickled when Wills put the car seat in the back of the car, wiped his brow, and drove away.

Then the wait continued. What would they call this bundle? What would be his royal name? Charles like his granddad? Edward? James?

George Alexander Louis

The news came today. Not my first choice, but a good, solid, kingly name for sure.

So, what's the big deal? Why does any of this matter? Why are we so fascinated, mesmerized, and capable of losing ourselves in the drama of a royal family way across the pond?

I think it's because we're sad.

I think it's because we're angry.

I think it's because we're drowning in our own bad news.

I think it's because we can't turn on the TV or look at Facebook without being inundated with bad news.

We just want some good news.

We just need some hope that the world is not such an awful place.

We just need to know that while we fight and clamor and judge and argue, good things are happening.

We just need to know that we can smile again.

That every once in a while it's okay to laugh.

That every once in a while it's okay to be silly.

That every once in a while a baby is born and if that's not a symbol of hope, I don't know what is!

Hope for a future.

Hope for better than.

Hope for a different way.

Hope for more love and less hate. 

Hope for smiles instead of furrowed brows.

A time to laugh. A time to dance.

A time to embrace and mend.

A time for peace. 

God! How we want peace!

How we need peace.

Not in the sweet by and by, but HERE, in the land of the living.

Days where we live well. Laugh often. Love always.

Days where it's all right to be excited about a baby born to a real-life prince and princess.  

Days where we open our eyes and hear the birds, feel the breeze, smell the flowers.

Feel the very breath of God on our faces because He's that close.

But consumed with all our stuff, stuffed, smoldering, spewed, hurled, we don't see Him. 

We don't smell Him. We don't feel Him.

We don't hear Him say, "Unto us a child is born." 

The One True King.

The Royal Lord of All.

He will one day judge the quick and the dead. We need not.

That my friend is a very big deal.

 

"There are souls in this world who have the gift of finding joy 

everywhere and of leaving it 

 behind them when they go." 

~ Jean Paul Richter 

I hope you're having a joy-filled weekend!!