One More Day

One more day is all I ask.

They died over three years ago.  Eleven days apart.  My parents.  They are in my dreams many nights.  I look forward to seeing them there.  They’re well and happy.  In my dreams.

Since their loss, I think about them often.  I’ve finally realized what I would like to have from them.  One day.  Just one more day with them.  And I get to choose the day.

I can see the day.  In my mind.  It’s a day from my childhood.  Not one specific day.  But a day that was like any other.  It would be a summer day.  My dad, the farmer, and my brothers would be working in the fields.  On their tractors with the hot sun beating down on them.  They would take a fresh jug of ice water with them to parch the thirst that was sure to come as they worked in the heat.

My mom, my sisters and I would pack a lunch for the family.  We would fry hamburgers or make bologna salad sandwiches.  Wrap them in wax paper.  Grab a couple bags of chips, doritos or fritos.  Pull out a box of twinkies, ding dongs or chocodiles.  Nothing fancy.  Fill a refresher jug of water.  And we would hit the road.  The country roads.

We would drive to the field one of the guys would be working in and park under a shade tree.  As the tractors pulled up, we would pop down the back door of the station wagon.

We would thank God and then eat that simple meal.  Together.  Just our family.  Not a special day.   Just a typical summer day.  I didn’t know it then.  But it was the life.  A simple, quiet unassuming life.  Not an easy life.  Not for my parents.  But it was the life.

Oh, the questions I would ask them.  If I had only known that I would lose them.  Oh.  I knew I would lose them.  But I wasn’t prepared.  I wasn’t prepared for all the questions that would fill my mind.  Questions  I never got around to asking.  I wasn’t prepared for all the stories I wanted to hear.  The lessons they had learned.  The do-overs they wanted.  Maybe even the regrets. The stories of their childhoods.  I’ll never hear all those stories now.  I’ll never have all my questions answered.


And He walks with me
And He talks with me
And He tells me I am His own
And the joy we share as we tarry there
None other has ever known

~~Ed Bruce


I realize now that there’s someone else I need to spend more time with.  There’s someone who calls for me to get to know him.  To ask those questions.  To hear his thoughts.  To read his Word.  While there’s still time.  Because there still is time.  Right now.

He calls me to spend each day with him.  He calls my name.  Sometimes I’m too busy.  I just don’t take time for him.  Sometimes I ignore him.  Oh.  He’ll still be here when I’m ready.  That’s what I tell myself.

He’s calling me to get to know him more.  To spend valuable time with him.  Each day.  Not just when I feel like it.  Not just when I need something.  But to spend time building a closer relationship with Him.

I’d like to imagine a day with him.  First, I would read his love letter.  He wrote a book telling me of his never ending love.  His perfect plans.  His gift of sacrifice.  I would thank him for those things.  His love.  His plans.  His sacrifice.  I would ask for wisdom.  I would listen for him to speak to me.  I would be silent and just listen.

I would walk among nature.  I would see the trees and flowers, fruits and vegetables.  The beauty that he created.  I would feel the warmth of the sun and the cool breeze.  I would see the stars and moon later in the evening.  Knowing he created this for me.

It’s not too late to spend more time with my Maker. The lover of my soul. The forgiver of my sins.  The God of the universe.

One more day.  One more day is all I ask.

My Crush

I remember his name.  I remember that he piqued my curiosity.  I’m not sure why it was him.  But it was.  I thought he was the most handsome guy I’d ever seen.  I listened to his every word.  I noticed what he wore.  I thought about him every day.  I watched him playing sports. I tried to memorize his schedule, hoping to run into him.  I listened for his voice.  When I walked past him, I hoped he would make eye contact.  I wanted him to notice me.

I could imagine our first date.  He would hold my hand.  Smile at me.  Whisper sweet nothings into my ear.  We would pack a picnic lunch and sit under a tree.  Just the two of us.  It was a sweet dream.  Never a reality.

I’ve crushed on many boys during my youth.  Most of them didn’t seem to know I was alive.  Some were personal friends.  Others were classmates.  Still others were long distance crushes.  They were all very real to me.


I have found the one in whom my soul delights.  Song of Solomon 3:4


I know someone who has a crush on me.  He knows everything I think.   He sees everything I do.  He hears everything I say.   He wants only the best for me.  He knew me before I was born.  He says he loves me.

He teaches me lessons.  He gives me tests.  He lets me make my own decisions.  He fights my battles.  He protects me.  He provides everything I need.  He’s an artist.  He’s a creator.  He is original.

Sometimes I feel like he’s trying to get me out of my comfort zone.  Then I realize he’s the one who made me.  He knows my strengths and my weaknesses.  He knows I need some pruning, and he knows there are parts worth keeping.

I’m not sure why he chose me.  After all, I sometimes ignore him.  At times, he’ll ask me to do something and I get so scared.  I think he asks too much of me.  Other times, I just don’t feel good enough for his love.  I want to be like him, but I feel like I’ll never measure up.  He still says he loves me.  No matter what.

There are some things about him that I just love.  I can talk to him anytime.  Anywhere.  For any reason.  Plus, he is always faithful.  He is always available anytime I need him.  He never leaves me.  If I mess up and confess, he forgives me.  Every time.  He’s the best.

He has one son.  He asked his son to die for me.  So he did.  He died for me.  He. Died. For. Me.  I read that he died for you, too.  He said he did it because he loves me.  He lives in a place called heaven.   He asked me to move in with him someday.  He’ll let me know when that day comes.  Until then, he’s getting my new home ready.  He’s also preparing a feast for me.  He said the invitation is for anyone who will accept it.  All we have to do is believe.

I’ve accepted his invitation.  Now I wait and do my best to become just like him. I want him to recognize me when he sees me.  I want him to welcome me home with open arms.

This guy’s a keeper.