HONEYCUTT: Spirit of God is relentless, just like mom

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I was sitting outside the other evening just right before sundown. And as I sat there letting my mind wander I heard a neighbor woman calling out for her kids to come home. In a instant my mind flashed back to the sound of my own mothers voice calling me home. I can hear her now: Jimmy, Jimmy, come home Jimmy. If I didn’t come right away it turned into: James Benton Honeycutt you come home now! Mom’s voice, Mom’s sweet voice, oh how I miss it. Continuing to sit here and think of Mom, God reminds me of one of the earliest memories I have of her calling.
Dad was a farmer and even though my Mom agreed to live on the farm, there came a time when Dad moved us into town. Why? Plain and simple, that’s what Mom wanted. Let me share one of the occurrences that may have lead to our move.
Around the time I was still too young to go to school, but old enough to get in trouble when left to my own devices, Mom would have to force me to rest. She would even lie down beside me, trying to get me to doze off. Most times it worked. I go to sleep, she gets up. One time it didn’t. She fell asleep, I got up.
Adventure awaits, out the back door I scoot, into the cool tall grass I run. My big black dog is there and he licks my face. The chickens are singing as they peck away. The sun shines down bright on a tow headed boy, exploring his freedom.
I clearly remember so much of this early childhood adventure that it has to be God stirring my thoughts. It must be. But enough of that! Where was I?
Oh yes, I am running towards the barn. I saw the dogs chasing something over here this morning. What was it? Eww, what’s that? It looks like a bloody furry rag or something and it smells bad. Turning around I see the stock tank where the cows swim and I think, where are Daddies cows? I go to look for them. I go way past the first tank to the other tank in the pasture. Muddy tank is what Daddy calls it. He won’t walk down around it either, says it’s dangerous. What’s that over there, shinning beside the water? I decide to walk over. But before I can take a step I hear her, I hear my Mother’s voice. I can’t see her yet, but I know she’s coming, for she is calling out to me. She is calling my name. Ugh oh, Not the name that other people call me. No sir, she is calling out the name she gave me at birth and I knew instantly she was on her way. Then I see her come over the top of the tank dam. That’s about all I can remember about that. But I do remember many other times with my Mom as I grew and I think on them with fondness. But for me this is the one I think on when I am mulling over my Mother’s love for me. Because I am here to tell you, my Mother came running. When her calls went unanswered, and uncertainty was overwhelming, she didn’t let anything stop her until she retrieved her little treasure. The object of her affection, the one in her charge. And if that isn’t love and protection I don’t know what is.
Being so blessed to have been adopted by such caring and loving parents, their examples help me to understand and visualize my adoption into the family of a caring and loving God. By emulating the way in which they followed His truth I am able to push through the times when I head out in the wrong direction. And just as I still remember the sound of my Mothers voice when she called my name, I recognize the voice of God as the Holy Spirit calls my name.The Lord God’s Spirit is ever with me and never falls asleep, as my Mother did on that day so long ago. But there are times when in the hectic pace of my life He causes me to be still and rest. And in the times that I leave the protection of His place of rest for me, He always comes. Always calls. Always seeks me out. Never alone, nor out of His sight, He constantly speaks the Truth of my Heavenly Fathers Love. I often think of the Spirit of God like my Mother. Nurturing, caring, protecting, driven to keep me placed under His charge, close.
Listen. Can’t you hear the Spirit calling? He is calling you. And He’s coming in Loving care.

~Jim Honeycutt, Chaplain/Baptist minister

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