It lulls me back in time...

The house is quiet, except for a hum in the background.  I'm not sure what is causing it, but I don't mind though, its the sound of your house.  It lulls my mind back in time for a walk with you.

I'm a Mommy now, Silas sleeps up stairs while Grandpa bounces and sings Isaac to sleep in the dark of another room.  You are sitting in your chair and I am close by on the couch.  We talk about my boys.  You're amazed at how well two year old Silas did washing eggs with you that morning, not breaking a single one.  I shake my head again as I tell you how surprised I was to come into the kitchen as you were preparing dinner to find him helping you shape the beef into patties for hamburgers.  You defend yourself by telling me that he was only touching the wax paper not the raw meat.  I just smile still shaking my head.  You change the subject commenting on how much he looks just like me when I was little.  he has my freckles and curly hair.  I tell you he also has our strong will.  That sends us back in time.  You begin to tell me a story about how I once refused to eat a hot dog.  I don't remember this as I was too young, but I do remember sitting at the table for hours one night because I refused to finish my supper.  You won that battle of the wills.  But the time I arrived at your house with a bad gash on my finger from a tin can and you insisted that every night before bed I put it in some rubbing alcohol...that battle I won, even if I did have to call Mom to get out of that awful task.

You two did everything together that weekend, washed eggs, made dinner, painted his favorite sword, & baked a cake.

The walk continues late into the night.  Reminiscing about my childhood.

Climbing the walls just before the bathroom and then waiting for some somebody to either need something out of the pantry or to use the bathroom so I could jump down scaring them.  You told us that you had done that when you were a child and that your boys had done it and that now we could as well.

The time we were at the farm, the window above the kitchen sink was open and we were making apple pies.  I remember the window was open because Grandpa and Justin were out back doing something. I wanted to be with them but you insisted that I should be with you making pies.  As we searched the freshly picked apples looking for the right ones.  You picked out a snarly looking apple and asked if I thought we should use it in our pies.  I didn't.  You cut into it to show me a perfectly healthy apple, and then used it as a lesson as to how we should never judge by what's on the outside, but we should take the time to see what's inside...A life changing lesson.

All those times you made me go to church with you when there were other places I'd rather be, like on the ski slopes.  That got us into even more hours talking about your deepest love; Jesus.  You shared with me how much He means to you, how proud you were of me that I loved Him in the same way.  You shared your heart with me of how much you hoped those close to you would also love Him.  You have hope because, "The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count as slow, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance." (Written by a close friend of Jesus, Peter).

Then you would explain to me how sorry you were for how you raised your boys.  If you could go back and not push Jesus' gift on them quite so much.  You understand now that it's a gift that only the Holy Spirit can give not a gift that you can force somebody to take.  If only you hadn't been so hard on them.  But you know you can't go back so you take what you know now and trust God.  You do your best to support them and love them now hoping through your actions to show them how important Jesus is.  You go again back to Peter's words and encourage me not to give up hope and reassure me that you haven't.

We notice the clock realizing it's past midnight and we need to go to sleep.  Those two little boys will be awake and ready to go in just a few hours, and so we say good night.