Sometimes two seemingly unrelated things can be quite similar.
Two events, that can easily stand alone, have significance when looked at together.
I noticed the truth of this with two family events that happened this past weekend.
God’s hand was evident in both.

The first event was the bridal shower for my son’s fiancé.
The bridal shower was in Washington, DC.
Two of my daughters and my daughter-in-love were able to attend.
My daughter, who just had our precious granddaughter, did not attend.

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We had a lovely family weekend. A bridal shower and a baby dedication happened. And we rejoiced. A new Whispers will be published on Tuesday, June 19, as God allows.

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If anyone asked me to describe the past nine months, I could sum it up in one word.
Waiting.
Waiting for our daughter and her husband to become parents.
Waiting for our first grandbaby to arrive.

Every Tuesday morning, my daughter would send me a text.
The picture was from a pregnancy app she had on her phone.
The text would be a drawing of a particular fruit or vegetable.
It would show the number of weeks and weight and length of her little baby.

I looked forward to my Tuesday morning text.

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Whispers of His Movement will resume on Tuesday, May 29. By God’s grace, our family is preparing for the arrival of a precious little boy or girl. I will update all of you with news. Listen for His Whispers along with me. Blessings and JOY.

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I had a lovely morning with a young mom and her three children.
She has a five-year-old son and a three-year-old daughter.
Her baby is almost six months old.
I made sure to ask their ages because I wanted to get out the right toys for them.

A doll house for the three-year-old would be appropriate.
A garage with accessories for the five-year-old seemed right.
The toy chest was open so that they could take anything from there as well.
It was not until I talked to the five-year-old boy did I discover that he loved Legos.

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I reconnected with a friend a few months ago.
This is when social media can be a blessing.
We sat together on the soccer field when our children were young many years ago.
We had wonderful long talks during those games.

At the time, she lived very close to me.
However, we were never in each other’s homes.
It was a friendship based on children, school, and sports.
We always enjoyed our talks on the field.

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With a grandchild expected to arrive in a few months, I am shopping for baby furniture.
I always told my children that I planned to have a full nursery here in our home.
I wanted it to be very easy for them for come her with their children.
I just want you to bring yourselves and the baby, was what I always said.

Now is the time to shop.
My daughter and her husband have already selected the things for their nursery.
It is time for me to look around for nursery furniture for our house.
It almost feels like it did when I was twenty-four and purchasing our nursery for the first time.

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It was a Thursday night ritual.
I had my favorite spot on the sofa.
I could look behind me and see my mother sitting on the chair.
It was something we enjoyed doing together.

I always had to make sure I turned on the television minutes before the actual show.
It was the days when televisions had to warm up a bit.
There was no instantaneous picture at the turn of a button.
There were no television controls; to change a channel you had to get up from the chair.

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I had to get something gift wrapped.
I never utilize that service; however in this case it was necessary.
I found a perfect gift but I actually purchased the last one.
There was no box for the item that I wanted to wrap.

I paid for my purchase.
The salesgirl carefully wrapped it in tissue paper.
She directed me to the gift wrap area.
She told me to show the woman my receipt.

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The mother of our dear friend died on Thanksgiving Day.
My husband came into the kitchen, looking down at his phone.
He had just gotten the news.
My heart hurt.

This dear friend was my husband’s best man at our wedding.
This dear friend went to grade school, high school, and college with my husband.
This dear friend shared the driving down to Georgia Tech each year.
In fact, my husband destroyed an eight-track tape on one of their long drives.

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