The Bobo

I have spent the last 40 summers trying to avoid the haze and humidity of the South. Truly, I hate it and towards the end of August I desperately search for any signs that summer is trying to pack its bags and go. Retail stores here in the South must hate it too as they always seem to change the seasons in the showrooms well before it’s time! Halloween candy makes its way to the shelves along with the back-to-school sales and the Christmas décor shows up in September. I’ve heard many complain about this but I cannot complain! For me it’s a sweet reminder that the hazy days of summer will be a thing of the past and soon I’ll be basking in the crisp fall air, eating Thanksgiving dinner with my family and picking out just the right Christmas tree! Oh glorious cooler weather! How I love you so!

One day my little son Matthew and I trudged through the thick, humid soup down to the local Wal-Mart. Matt must’ve been about 4 ½ at the time. I put him in the buggy and we set out to get a few things. A sparkle caught my eye and before I knew it I was standing in the garden center, already transformed into a Christmas-themed winter wonderland and glowing in all its tinsel, glitter and twinkling lights. We slowly laced our way through the aisles, Matthew looked on quietly and I, leaning on the handle of our squeaky cart, gazed at all the holiday goodness. I got lost in the joy of it all. I momentarily lost awareness of the things going on around me while I daydreamed of a white Christmas and made mental notes of cookies I would bake, cards I would send and gifts I would give. Then we rounded the last corner and I was chunked back into reality. We went on through the store picking up mundane garbage bags, boring cat litter, a few uninspiring groceries and very definitely nothing sparkly. It wasn’t until we got to the checkout line that I realized Matthew didn’t have his Bobo.

“Matthew, where’s your Bobo?” I questioned my son. He looked all around him and he couldn’t answer me. “Did you leave it in the car?”

“I don’t know”, he said. And his precious face started to show concern. His eyes widened a little and his cheeks pinked up. Outwardly I remained calm but something was kicking me in the pit of my stomach. “What if Bobo is gone?! How could we even sleep tonight or go anywhere tomorrow!? THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING!!” I screamed to myself.

“It’s probably in the car”, I assured him calmly. “We’ll check out and then we’ll make sure it’s in the car before we leave”. His chin quivered as he nodded in agreement.

To most, Bobo could only be described as a blue blanket, raggedy looking and thin, stained with purple paint and dotted with a few crude, hand-stitched repairs. If anyone got close enough to it they could even say it smelled funny, depending on the last time it was washed. But to Matthew that raggedy blanket was his most important and highly valued possession. Bobo was his companion when he was lonely, his comforter when he was sick and his security when he was scared. It never left his side, it never hurt his feelings and it never failed to cover him. It did these things for Matthew not as a blanket does but as a loving protector does, like a shield or a shelter. But most of all, Bobo was his friend; a cherished and very much loved friend.

We reached the car. The anxiety built up in me as I tried not to think about a new world without Bobo. As much as Matthew loved that blanket, I loved it for him. How would my baby get to sleep tonight without that blue wad of material curled up under his chin? How would I console him? “Oh please be in the car”, I thought. I was nearly praying about it.

Bobo wasn’t in the car. We made our way back into the store and hurriedly retraced our steps. Perhaps it was in the Christmas aisles, where my mind’s eye was decking the halls rather than paying attention to the Bobo dropping out of the cart. It wasn’t there. It wasn’t in the pet department or the grocery aisles either. Bobo was nowhere to be found. I felt panicked and Matthew started to cry. I tried to reassure him we would find it and everything would be ok but nothing I could have said to him would have given him the comfort he needed. This was the kind of stuff that Bobo was good for. I saw fear that I couldn’t calm. I was “Just Mommy” and short of finding Bobo there was nothing I could do to make this all better. All I could do was stand there in a heap of nervous uncertainty and watch tears roll down my baby’s face.

The line at customer service seemed to be a mile long with early Christmas shoppers already returning stuff. This was an emergency and worthy of line-jumping, I thought. I tried to make eye contact with the overworked and exasperated cashier but she never looked up.

“I’m sorry, excuse me”, I interrupted, and the lady finally noticed me and my crying son. I could feel the glares coming from the people in line. I couldn’t blame them at all. Time is tight and a line has rules, no matter what kind of emergency a lady might think she has. “Has anyone turned in a dingy, blue blanket?” I asked the clerk as I stroked Matthew’s hand or rubbed his back trying to somehow soothe him. The lady held up a finger, signaling me to wait until she got finished with her current customer.

We stepped to the side and let her do her job. As I stood there with my crying and worried son the people in line seemed to soften their stares. They must’ve realized the situation we were in and I’m sure that many a parent could relate to a security item once loved by a kid of their own. And anyone with a heart could plainly see that my son was hurting. The shoppers were now invested in our plight and if a few more minutes were added to their already stretched-thin day, then so be it. They wanted us to find the blanket now as much as we did.

When the cashier finished with her customer, she said she would go check the lost and found bin. She returned within seconds empty handed. I was so disappointed. Then she said, “Let me look under here”, as she stooped over and walked down entire length of the customer service counter. I think I held my breath. She got to the end, stood up straight and with a blue blanket in her hand said “Is this it?!”

I exhaled and even burst into tears! Some precious shopper had found the Bobo and returned it! Matthew ran over to the lady, stretched out his arms and embraced his dear, found friend. “Bobo!” he exclaimed as the cashier smiled and cried. I thanked the lady several times, took Matthew by the hand and turned to leave. Then I noticed several people in the line were crying along with us, happy this little story of “lost love with a twist” played out with a happy ending right in front of them. Bobo was now safely back in the arms of the one who loved it the most and all was right again in Matthew’s world. And I’m sure that Bobo was probably happy also!


In Matthew’s eyes, the cashier was a hero. To me the hero was the stranger that found the Bobo and took the time to turn it in. They saw past its raggedy appearance and thought that just maybe there’s a sad kid out there who loved that misplaced, dirty blanket. I’ve heard many times a Bible verse that talks about “Love in Action” but I never really understood it until I saw love all over Wal-Mart that day. I saw it in my son’s breaking heart, the stranger’s actions, the cashier’s compassion and the emotion of the people in line. Even Bobo the inanimate object showed love by offering security again to a little boy who was afraid that his most loved thing was gone.

Matthew is older now and Bobo doesn’t get out much anymore. But there will always be love in his heart for that blanket - a special kind of love that will never be tarnished by hurt, distrust or betrayal. It’s love the way love was meant to be; innocent, pure, hopeful, trusting and kind. If only we loved each other in the same way a child loves his blanket!

Becoming Butterfly

Nature - it's a good thing. Vast, beautiful and wonderous, full of spectacular phenomenons, undiscovered wildness and perplexing mysteries. At any turn of your head you can lay your eyes on God's handi-work, His attention to detail and His incredible eye for color and clarity and composition. The night skies, deep and endless, encrusted with supernatural dazzlers, until the sun breaks the darkness sending shards of light to rain down over fields of greens and oceans of blues. Every morning the birds awake in their nests of intricately woven strands of flora and fauna and sing their songs of praise and glory. God must smile and the break of every new day. His creations are, in a word ... miraculous!

How anyone could see God's art and summize that it was thrown together by some big bang is beyond me. Take the metamorphosis of a butterfly. The butterfly lays an egg on the underside of a leaf. It's held in place by some sort of sticky, butterfly glue that has yet to be understood by scientist. From the butterfly egg comes a caterpillar. To live, the creepy crawler instinctively eats the plant it was formerly attached to, growing quickly and nearly doubling in size daily. He leaves his home - the plant - in search of a safe place to start the next phase of his life. He attaches himself upside down to his next location and covers himself in a protective shell called a Chrysalis. Inside of there the final transformation takes place and the caterpillar emerges as a beautiful butterfly. Winged Jewels of the insect world, no two exactly alike and all perfectly designed. Yes God's design - it's all good!

During my time of unemployment this past summer, I had plenty of extra time on my hands. I spent a lot of time looking through the job listings and sending out my resume. I spent lot of the time in my study Bible learning things I'd never heard of and getting closer to God! I also got to spend a lot of time writing. (Truthfully, now that I'm safely employed I wouldn't subtract a minute of my 'off time'!) I wrote a lot and about all kinds of things. I entered a writing contest (which I'm still waiting to hear if I won!)and I submitted several things to the local newspapers. It always lifted my spirits to have my work published! And I'll admit it...during my season of unemployment, I probably spent too much time on Facebook. It's really no secret!

Of course part of the fun of facebook is looking up the long-lost friends from the past. I had pretty much found everyone from my past that I was interested in finding but there was one old friend of mine that just never showed up in Facebook. One day I "googled" his name and found him - in a prison in the mountains of North Carolina. I was so disappointed. Not really surprised but disappointed for sure. We both ran in the same circles doing the same kinds of things. Without knowing "what he was in for" I could only assume that the drugs he started using years ago must've caught up with him somehow. We all "partied" together back in the day but he took the 'party' to a level the rest of us weren't willing to go to. So eventually we all lost touch. I had no idea what happened to him between then and now that landed him in the the custody of the state. But for the grace of God there go I, I thought. I fought my own demons for years. I wasn't going to judge the guy. I was lucky I never got in more trouble than I did.

I hadn't seen or heard from him in 15 years. I had no idea what his life has been like, what crimes he did to land him in prison or if he would even remember me. But something was tugging at me. I had to write him and I needed to tell him about Jesus - I just had to know if he had a relationship with the Father. If he had Jesus no matter what mess the rest of his life might have been in I knew he would be ok. So I wrote the letter and sent it on its way.

He wrote me back right away. And I was happy to read that he did know Jesus Christ as his personal Savior and because my letter came right at the time it did he also believed that God answered prayers! He told me a little about his life and his current situation. And he confirmed my suspicions ... He had a long way to go in prison and he had just got there. He was grateful that I had written him and hoped that I would write again. He also said he was proud of me. He knew my past. He knew a lot about 'old me'. From the sound of my letter he guessed I had changed a lot over the last how-ever-many years.

We started writing back and forth. And because I had so much extra time on my hands my letters would become these epic, marathon letters with page after page after page of whatever was on my mind at the time. My letters were also full of the Good News of Jesus!! I would try to remember everything from Sunday's church service and write it all down. I would copy the notes from the bulletins or tell him whatever our last Sunday School lesson was about. Not a page was written that I didn't remind him that he was loved by God! He knew that. And he in turn would remind me of the same thing when I would try to get discouraged on the job search. I was honest with him about my own trials, troubles and addictions. "But for the Grace of God..." I thought that often as I wrote to him. It could have easily been me.

He said he loved reading my letters - he had plenty of time on his hands as well. Send the letters, as long a letter as you can write, he said! I sent him a Bible and I sent him some small Bibles to give to any of his fellow inmates that didn't have one. I felt like I was reaching out to other people in the prison that way, at the very least helping my friend perhaps plant a seed for someone there. And I sent him my blog posts, Facebook notes and articles. He said he enjoyed them. I got so much from this friendship and he did as well and it was just nice getting to know him.

For Father's Day this past year the Gaston Gazette published a piece I had written a couple years earlier called "Flowers For Father's Day". It was a sad little story I had written about a rose bush after my dad had passed away. I was so excited about it - not only was the article unedited but they also gave me a whole page, ran pictures of my dad and family and even had my picture with my name under it as the writer. It was the best looking article of mine I'd ever seen in print and I was so, so proud! I sent a copy to the prison along with a mile long letter all about the experience of getting it published! He said he loved the article so much that he read it to some of the men there. He said it made a few grown men get teary eyed! (I get that, I cried when I wrote it!) My writing, he said, softened up some hardened criminals!

So I'd been writing him for awhile and finally decided I would just go visit him. I didn't know what to expect when I got there. The only prison visits I had ever seen were on TV. I think had in mind something like stainless steel stools bolted to the floor and a conversation through thick, bulletproof glass and an old-school telephone receiver. It wasn't like that at all. You walked in, one prisoner visitor at a time and they sat you down at your own small, round table. There were rows of tables with the visitors sitting and waiting on their loved ones to come out. The prisoners came out one at a time - I guess for security reasons and made their way to the table that had their visitor sitting there. There was a young lady sitting at the table in front of mine waiting for her guy to come out. When her guy walked out she stood up to greet him. As he was walking towards his girl he looked at me. Then he looked at me again, almost like he knew me. I felt a little weird, honestly! He hugged his girlfriend and looked at me again. This time he said "I know you!"

It was the last thing I ever expected to hear in a prison visitor room in a medium security prison in the middle of the North Carolina Mountains. I'm sure his girlfriend didn't expect that either because she whipped around and looked at me like I just tried to steal her man! I'm sure I looked confused and all I could say was "Really?". He said, "Yes, you wrote the article about the flower. That was you!" And suddenly I was overly-too flattered. "Yes, that was me", I confidently responded. "Butterfly!", The guy said. "That was a good story", he finished and then started visiting with his girlfriend (probably because he knew what was good for him!)

"Butterfly?" I wondered. There was no butterfly in my story. Oh well. My friend made his way to my table and sat down. We'd both changed a lot, I decided. He was grey and my weight had doubled since the last time we saw each other. Oh well, happens to the best of us I guess! After some catching up I leaned in to quietly tell him the guy behind him recognized me. "He said he read my article", I told him. "A lot of the men read it", he responded. "They all loved it!" And he told me about more men getting sad, actually crying or talking about their own dads after reading it. I was really fond of the idea that something I had written had an effect on such a seemingly 'tough crowd'.

Still trying to keep my voice down so the next table over couldn't hear that I was talking about him I said to my friend, "He said something about a Butterfly".

"That's what we call you", he said. "Butterfly".

Evidently if you're in prison you get a nick-name. And a lot of times even the friends and family members of the prisoners get nick-names also. Turns out that I had a prison nick-name. (Another thing I never figured...). My prison nick-name was Butterfly.

"Butterfly? Why?" I questioned.

"Because you've changed". He continued. "I've told them about you, how I knew you and how we all were in the past. You were wrapped up in a cocoon of sin and addiction. But you got Jesus and you went through a change and emerged as a beautiful butterfly! You've spread your wings and you're flying! You're not a caterpillar crawling around on the ground anymore. You're free."

All of a sudden it occurred to me that I was a completely different person! When He saved me He also changed me! All those burdens I carried for so long had been cast off and I really was free from my sins. It might not have been all that obvious to me at the time but to a person who knew me a lifetime ago there was no denying the presence of my Savior in my life! I was so happy knowing that you could determine by my words and my actions that I was a true and happy follower of Christ! I felt like I had Jesus oozing through my pores! "Thus, by their fruit you will recognize them." ~ Matthew 7:20. Butterfly was validation. As complicated as metamorphosis was for a self-absorbed, careless, unloveable old sinner like me God loved me anyway and thought of me as worthy of transformation. By beautiful design, he turned me into a winged jewel in his glorious garden!


God will use any person and any situation for good. Sometimes you become one of His tools and you don't even know it. Through my old friend, I was able to be a witness to 'hardened prisoners'. I was an example of God being able to save a wretch like me. I don't know if anything I've said or written or been an example of has led anyone to Christ but I'm certain some seeds have been planted. My friend can do the watering - and hopefully the harvest! We make a good team that way! God's team!

So Butterfly it is ... and I like it. It's girly and sweet ... But having a prison nick-name also gives me street cred! :)

Six Degrees Of Separation, Part 4 - A Chance Meeting and the Kindness of Strangers

The summer had ended and it was time for Matthew to go back to school. We had a wonderful summer together and I was grateful for all the extra time I had to spend with him! But with him going back to school, it was time for me to get back to work. God had provided for me at every turn and I believed that he would continue to do so. But I wanted to get back to work. I wanted to pay my own way and do something productive. I needed to for my sake and my self-worth and for my son.

Meanwhile my church had been experiencing some "growing pains". I guess its bound to happen ... technology creeps in, song-styles change, preachers bring a fresh approach to the message. I understand how that can step on the toes of people who grew up there and liked how it 'was'. Change is hard - and harder for some than others. It seemed like the time had come to move into a more contemporary service style, although to me it seemed equally and nicely blended. I was fairly new there - I didn't see what the problem was, but then I never had anything to compare it too. Regardless, it was decided that we would go to a two-service model, having a 'classic' or traditional service and a contemporary or 'praise and worship' service. For the most part I think everyone agreed. But whether we all agreed or not, God seemed to be working in our church and we had to move in the direction He was sending us.

We had one more service 'together' before the 2nd service was going to start. Our little praise band was going to play and the choir was going to sing something a little more traditional. A blended service with a little something for everyone. And hopefully after everyone's tastes in music and attire were satisfied, maybe we'd have a little something to actually give to GOD. But God Himself had other plans that morning! There was an accident in our neighborhood and a car had taken out a power pole along with our power. It was lights out at Tuckaseege Baptist! It was late summer, steamy and getting hotter by the minute. They opened the doors of the sanctuary to the outside to let in some air and we fanned ourselves with the old hand-held church fans. Since we had no power for the video screens for our music we actually had to take out our Baptist Hymnals, turn to page so-and-so and sing to the piano. Pastor Jason rolled up hi shirt sleeves, stepped up to the pulpit sans amplification and delivered a sermon old-school, shouting loud enough for us all to hear and reading from his Bible. We had no power point presentations and no slide shows, no canned music or anything else. We may not have had electricity that day but rest assured the power came down on us by way of the Holy Spirit! Don't get me wrong, I like all the new stuff that my little church uses but that service was stripped bare and nothing but the message, God's word, God himself. It was awesome! And from the choir loft that morning I noticed a couple of visitors sitting behind Mrs. Katherine. I don't believe I'd ever seen them before. I was just hoping they would come again, maybe when the power was back on ... so they could see just what all we have going on!

After a chance meeting with mutual aquaintences in the local coffee shop, Jason was invited to lunch where he met the visitors. The man had grown up in a little country church - much like ours - and the woman had actually grown up in a Catholic church. They were looking for a church that they both would feel comfortable in. He liking the more traditional style and she a little more modern in taste. Jason told them about the 2-service model we were planning to start and suggested they come check us out. It turns out the man wasn't a fan at all of video screens, music accompaniment tracks or bands. But because the power was out that morning he loved the service! She wanted to come back the next week to see us in the lights! They did come back the following Sunday - and the man liked us still. Mrs. Katherine urged them to come again and invited them to our Sunday School class. I met them in Sunday School the next weekend. Tommy and Jodi Jinks. They were nice people, interesting and funny and I liked them right away. They seemed to like us too - a good fit - and I was happy they made their way to our sweet little church.

I think I wrote in an earlier blog post that during my season of unemployment my mailbox became a source of blessing. I never knew what would show up in there or when. One day I heard the mailman cramming something into the box. I went outside to see what it was. There was a smallish brown package in there from my friend Toni. Inside the package was a little book called The Prayer of Jabez by a fellow named Bruce Wilkinson. My little gang of Facebook friends had had a conversation about Jabez and his special prayer and Toni told me she had a copy she would send to me. In the Bible the book of Chronicles tells his story and how he prayed for God to bless him ... and God did. I started reading the book right away and finished it in fairly short time. The author suggested that being blessed by God wasn't just reserved for Jabez... and summized that receiving any kind of blessing was a way that you could bless others. In fact it was your responsibility to bless others using whatever tools He gave you! I liked that thought and it fell in line with how I'd been living lately. I wanted to help others - and when God made a way for me I would do what I could for someone else. The prayer itself is found in 1 Chronicles 4:10 which says, "Oh, that You would bless me indeed, and enlarge my territory, that Your hand be with me, and that you would keep me from evil, that I may not cause pain. So God granted him what he requested. The writer suggested I say that prayer everyday. God bless me, so I may be a blessing to others. So I did. I memorized that verse and recited it daily. Couldn't hurt.

One Sunday morning Matthew and I woke up early. He had been having trouble with his asthma and needed a breathing treatment. We missed Sunday school. We did make it to church in just enough time to climb into my seat in the alto section of the choir loft! The message was good and right on point with whatever was going on in my world that day. Jason was starting to wrap things up and asked us all to bow our heads to pray. While he was praying I started to talk to God myself with my personal plea. "Dear God", I said, "Thank you for blessing after blessing You've poured out on me. I know that You've heard my prayers and have answered them. You've fed us, sheltered us and clothed us. You've helped me keep the lights on, you've found me opportunities to reach out to people and you've given me a job to do in your church as a member of an outreach committee. Thank you dear Jesus, for everything Thing you've done." Jason continued to pray and so did I. "Dear Lord, it really is time for me to get back to work. You know how I'm feeling. And you know that I've been patiently waiting and using my time to do things that I hope pleases you. I thought you put it on me to somehow work in a church or some sort of ministry. If that's not the case, dear Lord, send me the job You'd have for me. Whatever it is I'll take it, I'll do it happily and I'll give you all the glory." And then I recited the Prayer of Jabez. Jason wrapped it up and church was over.

As I started walking down the steps of the choir loft, Jodi Jinks was coming up the steps. She said, "I heard you were looking for a job". Having just had that conversation with God, I was a little startled! "Yes I am", I responded. It turns out that while I wasn't in Sunday school that morning Mrs. Katherine brought me and my unemployment up to pray for. Jodi asked the class what I might have been looking for and Renee, the lady from the Salvation Army, told her how she wanted me to come and work for them. Thanks to an asthma attack my Sunday school class prayed for me and again, He answered the prayer! Jodi asked me what kind of work I was looking for and what kind of experience I had. She said she didn't want to get my hopes up and had no idea if her friends company was hiring but wanted me to send her my resume just in case. I emailed her my stuff as soon as I got home, this time very careful not to get my hopes up. However, there was something a little different about this one. And I had a peaceful feeling.

Monday morning came and went without word from anyone but Tuesday morning my phone rang. It was Jodi's friend - a lady from Cedar Management Company in Charlotte. They liked my resume and wanted me to come in for an interview. Could I be there Thursday morning, she asked. Of course I said YES! When I got to the place there was a big sign on the door saying "We are currently not accepting applications". That didn't look very promising, still I took a breath and walked on in. Thursday's interview must've gone well because they called me the next week and offered me the JOB!!!!! I was employed and to GOD BE THE GLORY! And it wasn't just any job - it was the job I asked Him for, the job my Sunday School class prayed for and the job that tracked me down as I was standing on the steps of the choir loft! This is the one He put me in and it could have been digging ditches or scrubbing floors with a toothbrush. It was mine and I loved it even before I got there!

My official title is "Mail Room Supervisor" and my job is sorting incoming mail and printing/packaging outgoing mail. Lots and lots and lots of mail! I prayed the Jabez prayer to "enlarge my territory" and he put me on mail-duty for 25,000 people whose Homeowners Associations we manage. And, "as luck would have it", they have a prayer meeting there every Wednesday morning! We're not praying to generic, politically correct "god" either, but to our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ! As we were leaving for the Thanksgiving holiday the boss called us all into the conference room and asked us to name something we were thankful for. My job, of course I said. But I also said boldly to the room full of people that I was thankful for Jesus and my salvation. And my co-workers all agreed. It wasn't 'ministry' like I was expecting, but rest assured there's a ministry going on there. It's a wonderful place with wonderful people and I'm just to grateful to be a part of it. I'm excited to see how God is going to use me there!

So that's my "secret" for those who sarcastically asked me that over the summer. God is my big secret. I asked, believing that He would provide and He did. The biggest blessing of all turned out to be my season of unemployment itself - learning lessons, loving others, letting go, not worrying, utilizing my extra time to serve Him and praising God in the storm. Romans 8:28 says, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." "All things" includes unemployment!

I'm excited for church in the morning. It's January 1st, 2012 and my dear Christian sister, Jodi Jinks will be getting baptized! Several of her friends, some being my new co-workers are coming to witness her public display, proclaiming her faith in Christ! Thus completing my Six degrees of Separation by the Grace of God chain of events! Thank you for reading!


"I will praise thee, O Lord my God, with all my heart: and I will glorify thy name for evermore." Psalm 86:5