Twister Sister

When I left church today, I felt the strong desire to talk to my mom... and I mean REALLY talk to her. It seems bizarre how a sermon about "why men hate to go to church" made me want to talk to Mom. I'm quickly coming to the realization that anytime I bask in God's truths I know I need to love and honor my parents. Not only that, but I want to do those things.

Unfortunately, that is not how things unfurled. Mom was waiting to go to Target to make use of my employee's discount in order to buy a new grill when she discovered me down in the basement glued to the Internet. What followed was a huge fight in front of my brother and his girlfriend. Sulky, I consented to go along. However, Mom angrily decided that she didn't care to go anymore. Thank goodness Hunter was there to be the peacemaker. I guess I greatly underestimate him. Being proud and also self-righteous (even on Mother's Day), I took longer than I should have to apologize. Even so, it was a skim milk apology.

We ended up getting the grill, but things continued to stay glacial between Mom and me. It seemed as if my lofty plans of writing her a sentimental letter, hugging her, and wishing her a great day had been blasted away with the 50 mph winds that were raging outside. All the while a familiar frustration raged in my heart against my flesh for being so stupid; all that I had originally intended was to tell her that I appreciated and loved her.

After dinner, Mom, Kelly (Hunter's girl), and I played some Scrabble. Mom won and I came in third: fate, I suppose. Then a more forgiving Mom insisted on going to our garden down the road at Mr. Brown's place. I whined about the wind and the chill but quickly shut my mouth when I realized that I was stepping on her excitement about the possibility of sharing the garden with all of us kids (aka- Hunter, Kelly, and me). All that was great until, upon climbing into the truck, I looked down the hill to behold half of a giant Bradford pear tree splayed across the driveway.

"Just perfect," I thought. Surly was the word.

Getting out of the truck and into the cold wind just didn't appeal to my comfort. However, it struck me that Paula (our neighbor) was going to be sawing that stupid tree with her tiny saw for hours without help. Mom got Dad to grab his chainsaw. And my dad loves to feel useful, so this made his day. Hunter, Mom, and I took turns carrying off parts of the dismembered tree. With the entire Causey family working, it couldn't have taken more than 10 minutes to completely clean off the drive.

Tree minced, we got back into our rides. Mom and Dad in the truck, I elected to sit in the bed. Hunter and Kelly followed in the Caprice. Looking down, I noticed a pine cone. I threw it at the windshield of the Caprice, and the contents of the car were laughing with abandon. And I smiled myself.

What had been bad became good. Earlier, while on the phone, I had talked to John about the fact that there was still some time left to change the course of events. I'm not so sure that I had much to do with the the way things turned out. With the Holy Spirit playing the parent to a pouting child, I did manage to tie down my pride long enough to apologize to my mom. But now I am certain that Romans 8:28 must be true: "And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love Him, to those who are called according to His purpose."

I ended getting a grill for my mom, eating dinner with my family, playing Scrabble (one of Mom's favorite pastimes), working with my family to accomplish something for our neighbor, and laughing with joy.