Tender Loving Care by Heidi Corona

If you’re a parent, you can easily think of a time when your kids have been sick. You know the non-stop activity of taking care of them: helping them and then stripping the bed, carrying icky sheets to the washer and remaking the bed, only to have them soiled again an hour later. Although you are happy to take care of them, it is exhausting. By the time your child is well, you never want to wash another set of sheets in your life.

Imagine now, if your child had a bed wetting problem.  That sheet-washing nightmare would be your reality every single morning!

Well, I had a bed wetting problem…and my poor mom was that bedding washer.

I never seemed to grow out of it, like we were all hoping I would. My parents tried to tweak my water intake before bed or even buy gadgets that would buzz me awake the moment “moisture” hit the sheets. But my deep sleep always won out and my enduring mom always had to wash my bedding… again.

When I was old enough to go to church camp and stay in the dorm with my friends, this terrible curse threatened to keep me home. My private struggle would surely become public now. Because of our family’s long time involvement with Maranatha Bible Camp, I had been waiting patiently for my turn to go. I had watched my parents and older siblings leave with anticipation and return with stories of new friendships, amazing teachers, and lives transformed around them. I wanted a week of that for myself. But I couldn’t even imagine it without the shadow of my humiliating problem. I could go, but not without paying a heavy price.

Like a super hero flying in for the rescue, my mom later informed me know that she would be going to camp that week with me. Undercover as a kitchen helper, she would be able to help me take care of my situation. She had helped me in our home time and time again without getting mad about her added work. She never embarrassed me or made fun of me. In fact, she had comforted my own frustration with stories of other family members who had struggled in the same way when they were young. So, I do not recall if we discussed the details of how everything would take place at camp, but I trusted I would be okay. Her consistently loving actions told me that I would be safe.

We went to camp that summer. I went to camp that summer. I do not remember who led my family group, what scripture we studied, or what boy I liked that week. But can tell you exactly how preciously I was treated by my sweet mom. Like a cherished, family heirloom that one would take out and wear to a special party, she let me shine, but carefully protected me from scratches all the while.

Early each morning before the sun was out of bed, my mom was up. She quietly came to my bunk and gently woke me. She had dry pajamas in one hand and clean bedding in the other. I would go in the bathroom, clean up and change my clothes. She would take all the wet bedding away and replace it with soft, dry ones. Then she would tuck me in and l would go back to sleep while she washed my bedding, BY HAND this time and put them on a clothes line behind the dorm. I would later wake up with the other girls ready to start the day.

My mom’s patience, kindness, gentleness, and selflessness showed me how precious I was and am to her. Because she made a decision to handle me with care, the bed-wetting and sheet-changing years became the source of this very special memory. I am forever touched by being loved like that!

Heidi Corona

Side by Side

My parents did two things really, really well. My mother took me to church.
She made sure I was there nearly every time the doors were open. She prayed
with me. She loved me. She read me character building stories in the morning
before school, and, she took me to the youth events. I can not tell you
where I would be had she not done that. The pull of the party lifestyle was
certainly present. My mother taking me to church kept me out of such a
lifestyle. I can only imagine what hurts I would have perpetuated on myself
and others had I not been forced to go to church every week.

My dad taught me how to work. That seems to me to be an unusual concept
these days: a son having to work for essentially for the benefit of the
family alone. My brother, dad and I worked side by side for many years.
Taught me a lot about perseverance. Taugh me how do tackle big projects. How
to use my head and my hands.

A Day in the Life with my Dad. by David Brown

My parents did all sorts of things right.  I'm thankful for more great lessons and memories than should be allowed.  If you are like me, and by like me, I mean in your late 30's to early 40's, you grew up in a simpler time when playing hide and seek at dusk was as technologically advanced as our playtime got.  After school, we'd spend our time actually building relationships with our parents in activities we were involved, like with mom at the Moose lodge public pool, or with dad coming home from work and pitching in slacks and a tie in our pickup neighborhood baseball game.  There are tons more experiences than these, but there is 1 in particular I wanted to highlight.

When I was about 11 years old, my dad took me to work with him.  For that day, I saw where my dad spent 9 hours a day, 5 and 1/2 days a week as the President of a Bank.  I sat in his chair, arms stretched out over his desk, interacting with his secretary over the intercom, listening in on very important phone calls, and walking the halls of the bank with my dad as others showed their respect to his presence.  My dad let me into his world that day, and in doing so proved how proud of me he was.  That day especially clearly, I remember being so very proud of my dad too.

Including your kids into a part of your life that takes up so much of your time and thought life should be required coursework for parents and children.  It's more than okay to show your children who you are outside of the home, in fact, it will open up a whole new dynamic in your relationship with them, which is the point of it all.  Thank you dad for taking me to work and validating me in ways I still don't fully understand.  I'm proud of you more today than ever, and I love my parents for what they did right!

David Brown
Executive Director
Family Vision Ministries
www.Family-iD.com

A "great" grandpa! by Melany Jenkins

My parents had a tumultuous marriage and I was very upset with my dad for many years, but it is probably time to honor him by telling you what he has done right. (They were eventually divorced) He was not a great dad, and he would probably agree with that.  He was either absent or overprotective.  Most people would tell you that my mom was the awesome one, and she was, but since her death, my dad has filled a void as only a grandpa can.

 

As a grandparent, however, he is awesome.  He travels to see my kids and me every year.  He is not a wealthy man, and I know this is a sacrifice for him.  when he gets here, he doesn't need to be entertained, he just does what we do and a little more.  He finds a 'honey-do' project and works at it a little at a time.  In that time, he manages to teach my boys how to do some plumbing, or electrical or how to pour cement.  He listens to my daughter talk after school. He hangs out and has coffee with my husband and I.  My kids LOVE it when grandpa comes, not because he buys them things (cause he can't afford it), but because he spends time with them.  
 

Melany Jenkins

Were we crazy? by Joshua Jantz

My father was a pastor of small churches, and often needed to have one or more jobs to provide for his family on top of his pastoral work. When I was around the age of 11, our family was invited to spend a school year in Russia as orphanage missionaries. In order to make this work out, Dad had to sever his employment income and our family literally auctioned off almost everything we had to finance the trip (he didn't own a home). We embarked on the adventure with a few possessions tucked away in storage, the clothes/supplies in our luggage, and no plan for our life's income or wellbeing or housing once the mission project was over and we returned to the States.

Most folks would have probably thought we were crazy... and perhaps we were :) However, I look back upon that moment in time/life as a pivotal point. It was through their example that I learned what it really means to go from living in the comfort zone to letting go and living in the adventure zone! It was in many ways a freeing feeling to let go and embark on a mission of faith, trusting that God would take care of the ending.

In looking back upon many of the endeavors I have undertaken as a young adult, I realize that it was the Russia experience that my parents led our family through that set the stage and prepared my mind for a world of possibilities and gave me the courage/confidence to step out of my comfort zone and pursue endeavors that many folks my age never attempt. Not all of my endeavors have been home-runs or even base hits. But my parents led the way in my life by being willing to sacrifice for a greater good and showing by their example of risking their short-term benefits for a long-term reward that the rewards and benefits to living in the adventure zone far outweigh the short-term benefits of a life spent only in the comfort zone.

Joshua Jantz

www.cavemanwebsites.com

A soldiers story. by Larry Lewis

My parents have done many things right - but I am truly grateful for the way they have supported me and my siblings through all of our different adventures.

I am sure my mother panicked when I informed them that I was dropping out of Ozark Christian College to join the US Army.  But she never freaked out.

When I came home for Christmas - Dad and I went out for Pizza and I said I wanted to be a soldier.  He was proud of me.  I was probably stupid for not waiting until the semester ended - but they never made me feel that way.

Once I deployed to Germany - mom and dad were so faithful in phone calls, care packages and letters to let me know I was loved.

I see that with my sister and brother as well - no matter where we are - mom and dad are thinking about us and praying for us.

In spite of the normal faults that parents struggle with - my mom and dad have always been a willing ear and supportive heart.  We have had many disagreements - but I never ONCE felt that could never come home to warm bed or a hot meal.  Even to this day - I know that my wife and kids are always welcome at my parents home.

I am convinced that this is because of their Faith - my parents are godly parents - who consider pleasing God to be the number one priority in life - that example is what keeps me pressing on.

Larry Lewis

Big Moma's House by Tony Rhone

  I spent my highschool years in the home of my grandmother due to some domestic issues I had with my mother and this time with my grandmother was a time in my life I will never, ever forget. 

The summer between my 8th and 9th grade year was the year I went to live with her.I lived with her until a year after graduation. It was just her, myself and my older cousin. She treated me like I was the most valuable person in her life. She cooked for me morning,noon and night. I put on about 25lbs. my first summer with her. I will never forget that the evening meal was time she and I sat down at the dinner table to eat. She never said much but just being in her presence meant the world to me. 

My big momma, as we called her, was a very godly woman. I hadn't really grown up in a godly home but staying with her, the Lord was all she talked about. I must say I hated it. Every conversation was about the Lord. At 16 the Lord was not on my mind. But as years passed I began to grow up and was working a lot so that kept me from having to be involved in church.But I will never forget one of the most selfless acts she ever did. I needed a car, my first car but had no $$$$$$ or credit.

My big mama knew I was working and I didn't get into a lot of trouble, she thought again the world of me. She ended up trying to mortgage her house in order for me to get my first car. However, the banker turned her down, and I am glad he did because I probably would have screwed up somehow and I would have hated for my grandmother to lose her house because of me.

But the best thing she ever did or the thing she did right was she constantly prayed for me.
Every night when I would come home I would see this big woman 6"3 300 lbs. on her knees on the side of her bed. Though I never actually heard her call out my name, I just know that she was praying for me. For several years I refused to surrender to the Lord. Until one day I was in a car accident that could have taken my life. The very next day, Sunday I surrendered my life to Christ. I know it was only by the Grace of God and the prayers of my Big Mama that I am a child of God today.

What did my Big Mama do right? She kept praying for me!

Tony Rhone

A Chosen son. by Eric Hoover

Wow what an awesome idea. I don't know where to start. There are so many memories of how wonderful my parents are. I suppose one of the most important things I can think of to honor them is that they were unabe to have children. In 1959 they adopted my sister and 5 years later and hundreds and hundreds of dollars, visits from social workers, interviews, meetings etc. they wanted another child. God in His infinite wisdom placed me with them to complete their family. So on Friday, December 16, 1964 I was officially a Hoover. God couldn't have placed me in any better family. They loved me as their own, which I was, and am. I have always known I was adopted but never made to feel like I was anything but theirs. They have given of themselves over and above to see that my sister and I were loved, taken care of, and given everything we needed.
All my life my father arose before 6 a.m. and left for work. My mother was able to stay at home and be there for me and my friends. Supper was at 6, and bedtime at 10! Many would say I had a "Leave It To Beaver" kinda family, and that is probably right.
Finally, from the very first week I lived with Mom and Dad, Sunday was a day to rest and attend church! It wasn't a question, option, or up for discussion! I am so thankful they saw to it God was a very important part of my life. If it wasn't for their committment to family and faith, I am not sure I would have devoted my life to the ministry.
I still have them both here and I am grateful for that. However my Mom is in the beginning stages of Alzheimer's, it hurts so bad to see her loose those precious memories that we have shared over the last 45 years. I just hope God is gracious and gives her several more years of reality. His will be done.
Thanks.
Eric