Having worked as an obstetrician-gynecologist in my past, I marveled at every birth. To think this new creature, so sophisticated and complex, could arise from two very simple cells that came together and started differentiating into a marvelous being just boggles my mind. I’m sorry, but I just don’t have enough faith in happenstance to believe this could occur purely by chance.

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When I was a teen, my mother was my best friend. Mom was a stay-at-home mother, as were most mothers in those days. I would come home from school and she was always there to greet me. After working on my homework, I would sit by the stove while she prepared dinner (in those days, moms did that too). We would chat. I could tell her about almost anything and she usually had some wise advice. I clearly remember telling her about some boy I had a crush on, who didn’t know I existed. Her advice? “Marilyn, boys are like street cars. If you miss one, another one will come along.” I can’t remember who the boy was, but I do remember Mom’s wise counsel.

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There is something very special about fellowship and the breaking of bread together. How personal and intimate an act it can be to sit with friends and/or family and enjoy the trust and joy of sharing. I find this especially so with my Christian family.

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Sorry, Huldah. I forgot your name. I’m sure lots of people don’t know your name. Not all that many people know my name, either, though my name isn’t in the Bible. But Someone knows both of us and both of our names.

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Nehemiah was the governor, the leader who galvanized the rebuilding of a demolished city. Yet he was neither too proud nor too self-important to get down in the dirt with everyone else who was working. He was not above working night and day with all the others who were doing it.

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It is our choice to offer ourselves to God, not something He forces us to do. But oh, how difficult to give up my right to myself!

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