Even though the official end of summer is over a month away, school will be starting soon and that really marks the end of our summer.  I have spent very little time on the computer since school has been out.  You can probably count on one hand the number of blogs I’ve posted this summer, at least meaningful ones.  I have enjoyed piddling around the house, spending time with the kids and reading.  A big part of my summer has been focused on the produce from our garden.

My Hubby has a wonderful green thumb and I have enjoyed the benefits of it.  I have had such fun finding new recipes and new ways to use all the garden produce as it has been in season.  Somehow it is less intimidating for me to try a new recipe when there seems to be a never ending supply of ingredients waiting for me. What we have not eaten or given away I have put in the deep freeze. Just yesterday, Hubby and I made a team effort in pickling. 

We canned some dill and some sweet and spicy pickles.  I’ll let you know in a week or two how they turned out. Canning was a lot of fun, but I guess that is because it is still a novelty to me.  When my Grandfather was here visiting and collecting corn the other day, he told me that my Grandmother would look to the heavens and say, “Oh, Thank you, God!” after the first frost every year.

Sissy had oral surgery about a week ago.  She had an impacted tooth that her orthodontist has been keeping an eye on for awhile.  We were hoping as he made room with the braces that it would come down on its own, but instead it developed a cyst that could cause damage to the roots of the other teeth. 

As the nurse called for us to come back for the procedure, Bubba boldly told Sissy in front of the whole waiting room that he loved her.  It was such a sweet moment that everyone who heard was touched by his words.  It was one of those moments as a parent that you think maybe you are doing a pretty good job.  

It was a bit nerve racking for me to watch them put Sissy under and a bit more nerve racking when I had to leave her.  It extremely tough to leave your child “knocked out” with an oral surgeon and nurse you’ve only met one time before. They did a great job and so did Sissy who was asking to ride her bike later that afternoon, but I made her stay on the couch with books and movies. 

We have had a lot of fun this summer.  We’ve done some swimming, went to all the free movies (but the first one), gone to the park, had some friends over, had family in town, gone to the library and done a lot of playing in the yard.  The kids have really enjoyed the bigger yard this summer and the new neighbors.  They have done a lot of bug catching, bike riding, hide and seek, water balloons and all sorts of games from their wonderful, vivid imaginations.  They jumped on the trampoline, played basketball and football, climbed in the neighbor’s tree house, played four square and even put on a show (complete with costumes) for us parents.

 They come in dirty, sweaty, and reluctantly every night.  Season passes to the water park and fancy vacations can’t even compare to the back yard fun they scrub off every night and the childhood memories of carefree summer days that sooth them into a deep, peaceful sleep at night. It is a bummer that summer is almost over.  It has been one of the best in a long time.

This weekend a friend of Sissy’s spent the night with us. I have known her since she was 5 years old.  Her sister and her sister’s best friend would walk around our old neighborhood looking for work.  They were 13 years old at the time and wanted to earn money to go to the movies.  I would always try to find a chore for them to do and it wasn’t long before she brought her 5 year old sister, GW, to play with Sissy.  The teen girls had been friends since they were little and encouraged the friendship between the younger girls. 

At first the older sister always stayed during the play dates, but it wasn’t long before us parents met,  our phone numbers were exchanged and GW was only escorted by her sister down the street to my door.  As the years past, GW became old enough to walk down the street by herself and the older teen girls are now grown with children of there own.  Now GW is the one that will soon be a teenager.  She is a good girl and we are always pleased to have her visit our house.  Of all the people and kids from the “old neighborhood” her family is the only one we still keep in touch with.  

When her father dropped her off yesterday, I asked what time he needed her back home.  He explained that it would be a short visit because they needed to go to a funeral today.  I extended my sympathies and inquired who had passed away never suspecting it was someone I knew.  I was shocked at his reply and sat down in my driveway because I became dizzy with unbelief.  One of the boys in our old neighborhood had committed suicide. He was only 14 years old.  He had hung himself in his closet and left a note that no one cared about him so he didn’t care anymore either.  His younger brother found him. 

I have not seen this boy in 10 months and mostly likely our paths would have never crossed again, but I am shaking as I type this.  My stomach is in knots.  He was a good boy.  He was quite, but always played kindly.  He shared his basketball goal with my boys and at least once on a pretty weekend you would see him giving his baby brother a ride on his mini bike.  I remember one time he sat on my porch sharing a bag of spicy, hot chips with Paddy.  Paddy has loved these chips ever since.  I would give out popsicles to him along with the other neighbor kids and I can remember seeing him tote his sleeping bag down the street to spend the night with a boy who moved away shortly before us.

These brief “snap shots” are all I remember of him, but I am torn to pieces.  My kid’s don’t know yet.  I asked GW not to tell them.  While my kids were still asleep this morning, we ate pancakes and talked.  She saw him the morning of his death.  Her dog had gotten lose and he kindly returned the dog to her front door.  She regrets their last encounter.  GW politely said “thank you”, but admits she was really more interested in what was on TV at the time.  Now, she wishes that she had talked to him.  She wishes she had asked him how he was doing.  She talked of fond memories of him and how she remembers him being the “new boy” in 4th grade, but how she introduced him to the class because he was her neighbor and she had already met him. 

GW called her parents and asked if she could stay at our house instead of attending the funeral and asked her parents to give his family what she had made him.  She told her Mom that she could not handle going.  Her parents came over after the funeral to check on her.  She asked to stay here longer.  Her Dad looked at me with grief filled eyes.  He wanted to make his daughter happy, but didn’t want her to over stay her welcome.  It is now almost 7 pm and she is still here, playing happily in our new neighborhood.  I’m not sure I can bare to take her home.  I’ll have to pass his house and his basketball goal.

I don’t think Bubba even realizes it and I would certainly never point it out, but sometimes he calls my Hubby “Da Da”.  Hubby loves it and the way Bubba says it, it does not sound babyish.  I can’t explain it, but it is very endearing.  In fact, I started paying attention to how all our kids address us and really each one and each way is special.  Sometimes Sissy calls me very formally, “Mother”, but it fits her personality to a tee.  Paddy is so carefree in his “Mama” and “Daddy”.  Somehow, no matter what they choose to say – it fits!

I grew up with a poster full of the names of Jesus as part of the everyday decor of our home and have always been mesmerized with the different names and titles for God in the Scripture.  I try to wrap my mind around the reply from the burning bush, "I am who I am” (Exodus 3:14) and I always try to pay attention to the way the words Lord and God appear in the English translation, because I know there is a difference in the Hebrew that I don’t want to go into right now. 

As much as I have seemed to pay attention to all the variations of God’s name in the Bible, I recently balked when my Pastor suggested that all the names for God were not listed in the Bible.  What? How could that be? Why would God not include something in the Bible that I need to know about Him? My Pastor went on to explain in more detail what he meant.  To one person He may be the God who cured them from cancer.  To another He may be the God who helped them through a financially tight time.  To yet another the God who rescued them from a bad situation in life.  He challenged us to have a personal and current relationship with God – not just the God who saved you when you were 12 years old, but the God who is current in your life today. 

I thought about Moses and how God introduced himself as "… the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob" (Exodus 3:6), but I’m certain by the end of Moses’ life he had many more personal, and personally meaningful ways of addressing God.  God never changes and He will always be ”the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob” but he is also the God who spoke to Moses from a burning bush, the God of the plagues, the God who parted the red sea, etc. etc.  Imagine all the names for God Moses must have had.

I have a friend who refers to Jesus always as “Abba” (Galatians 4:6) and another who uses the Hebraic word “Yeshua”.  As a parent, I love to hear my children call my name.  It doesn't matter if they say, Mother, Mama, or Mom as long as it is said in a loving, respectful way.  Many times they don’t even have to say my name, but if I know I have their full attention or we are engaged in a conversation where they are eager to talk to me – I am content.

I have been pondering these things off and on lately. He is the God who brought me home from work to be a full time wife and Mother – my dream come true.  He is the God who blessed our family with a bigger house and yard.  He is the God who provides.  He is the God who gives strength, energy and health to my husband. The God who sends rain so my Hubby’s business thrives.  He is the God who sustains me. The God who keeps my family safe. On and on I could go with the way He is God currently in my life.

While pondering this possibility of claiming and calling God more personally and currently in my life, I stumbled across one of His names in Scripture I never noticed before. I was reading the story of Hagar fleeing from Sarai in Genesis 16.  Sarai had been mistreating Hagar so she took off.  But God found her even as she was running away and spoke reassuringly to her.  Because of their conversation, Hagar named God in verse 13, “She gave this name to the LORD who spoke to her: "You are the God who sees me," for she said, "I have now seen the One who sees me." 

I really, really like that… the One who sees me. 

I was cleaning the house just now and wishing that I had updated my blog more in June.  I was thinking how I missed visiting and commenting on other blogs. I was out of the habit of posting and writing and really just needed something simple and not too deep to post in order to get me back in the routine again.  As I was cleaning, I was composing a blog in my head that I wanted to post when Paddy interrupted my thoughts. 

“Oh Mom!”, he said, “I just LOVE the smell of Pine-Sol.” 

I smiled knowing that was the cleaner that we have used most often since his birth and how I can remember the smell even from my childhood. 

I replied, “Yes, it has such a clean fresh smell, doesn't it ?” 

Paddy made me laugh with his answer, “No, Mom it is not the Pine that smells so good, but the Sol.”