The Patient Pace of Vision Realized, Part 1, Music

“Ms. C . . . is he your son?”

She shook her head and smiled at the young man behind her holding a cake.

Through throngs finding seats at the January dinner and concert fundraiser, Ms. C and the young man were quite busy moving donated cakes for dessert and a raffle. Two decades before her male assistant was born, she birthed her actual son, cute with button nose, slender eyes, close forehead, and a smile blessed by God.

Fellow parents with grown challenged children approached Huldah Cook to head up a ministry to build group homes. In 2004 the Heart of Georgia Developmental Disabilities Ministries, Inc. began. The Heart of Georgia DDM vision is to build two group homes, for adults with developmental challenges. House parents would guide these adults in Christ centered caring. The Directors with Ms. C as President had to map out the plans and gather funds through individual donations, private grants, and fundraisers.

With the patience of Job and the courage of Jacob, this sweet Southern mom spread the vision in this small community and nudged pockets open. The ministry would not build until all ducks were in place, land, permits, site plans, and most of all funds privately raised.

Funds may have reached beyond the halfway point for one house-build that January fundraiser. Ms. C could not be still, moving as fast as she could to get things done while greeting friends and guests. Her speedy assistant shadowed her even as savory plates settled on the tables. Finally I had to get MBH to convince our son to sit down to eat with his true mom. I think someone else convinced the HGDDA President to enjoy her meal with her son and family. But I think she stood in the back of the hall as men in red vests and bow ties barbershop-harmonized a cappella.

Seven months later I still hear the echoes of barbershop harmonies. But I know on a special site the music of saws, drills, and hammers of contractors and volunteers echo into a backdrop of piney woods. The first home beams with a flag at its peak. Ms. C now seeks house parents.

We expect Bud to live with us as long as Ms. C’s son has lived with her (to this date). We bless her and others for bearing the fruits of a vision that will help her son and others to thrive in a Christian nurtured environment.

The Best Laid Plans:  Part Three, Seeking Clarity
Sometimes you have to make a decision, fix a plan that will greatly impact folks you love. This first August Tuesday I was my indecisive self. With company roaming about and more company to come, I didn't think I had talked my decision out enough with my beloved husband because he had lawn care and other home chores to tackle after yet another business trip.

I'm a whirling dervish dancer as I prep for company. Whirl enough and your thoughts spin in confusion over expectations. I thought was a cool idea to let the kids be with each other, then play a Wii game after dinner. To which MBH protested: "When have we ever played Wii [games] after dinner with guests?"

"The night Buddy's friend slept over," I replied, with a smirk.

MBH wisely moved us to debate behind a closed door. There we compromised to let the kids play Wii if any of them requested. Yours Truly, however, was still confused about dinner seating.

Ever have a critical decision on the table, in this case, on two tables? You see, I couldn't recall whether we wanted two tables set or one table extended for ten people. MBH liked the traditional, extended uni-table gathering. I preferred two separate tables. The pings and bings of Bud's Wii-Play with Gramps muffled rising spousal rhetoric. Finally, MBH declared, " It's decided. Two tables. You win."

No gamer, I didn't like my beloved husband's assessment of the decision; I wanted us happy, on the same page. I was not happy. Though one option had to lose, my analytical engineer carefully reframed the win/lose scenario. He walked me out of the room to set the tables as jointly decided.

As MBH left on an errand, his cool step-mom offered to help me. Her face changed as I spilled out the awful table plan. An hour later, my husband's face changed as he walked by the table arrangements.

Dinner that night was as good as Norman Rockwell tradition gets. Only we passed roast beef not turkey around with animated talk that began with prayer. After desert, the kids moved, banged, and binged on the Uno-Attack game on the second table.

Have to decide between good options?
Talk and pray it through, in private.
Walk it out by faith.
Let Providence's best-laid plans unfold to bless you and all those you love.