Scratch-Off Calendar

All the stages of my life were spread out before you,

The days of my life all prepared

before I’d even lived one day.

—Psalm 139:16

 

I already knew what was beneath, but still I watched closely as my father dragged a coin across the label, scratching away the surface. 

“Banana split.” 

“But where does he go to get his banana split?” my mother asked. 

“He doesn’t have to go anywhere,” I explained, “I have all the fixings in the car.” 

As I sliced bananas and scooped ice cream, I explained how the 30-day calendar worked, “Some days you win a surprise, other days a special message, prayer, or thought.” 

“When do I scratch off the label?” Dad asked. 

“First thing in the morning each day, but you have to give me till the end of the day to deliver. And no going ahead!” I laughed. 

Hoping my father would enjoy the anticipation of surprises, I created “Dad’s Lot O’ Surprises Scratch-Off Calendar” as a Father’s Day gift that would extend beyond the special day. And since I know my father has an affection for sweets, most of his surprises are sweet treats. Shhh! Let’s keep that a secret, though! 

Near in the New Year

“When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul.”—Psalm 94:19

It’s one of my favorite Christmas gifts—a handmade (with the help of technology) 2013 “Addison” calendar. On the cover my 10 month-old granddaughter holds a 2013 sign, her big blue eyes wide with wonder.

Flipping each page of the calendar sporting a picture of Addie taken in the same month of 2012, I recall those precious moments—her debut in February; her first Easter in March; Mother’s Day when my whole family gathered for a photo on the church steps. And the summer months when I took care of Addie while her parents worked.

I remember cradling Addie in the crook of my arm, rocking in the old porch rocker, both of us lulled by the sounds of the morning, birds chirping, bullfrogs croaking, and a tractor chugging in the distance.  Addie’s curious blue eyes brightened, as she babbled in response.   I remember trail walks, Addie strapped snug in her stroller, mesmerized by bright green foliage and yellow butterflies, soothed by the rhythm of the carriage. I remember car rides that without fail calmed Addie to sleep. I came to know Addie’s cries, signaling food, sleep, or attention. I knew what would make her smile and gurgle and what would comfort her. Except for one day.