Dawning Truth

         
        
           Sometimes an impromptu picture of something as casual as an iPhone  “selfie” taken on my patio can speak to my heart like a Bible verse when the Holy Spirit wants to get my attention.  It was the afternoon of Martin Luther King holiday of 2014 when I asked my oldest granddaughter to come sit with me on my glider swing on my patio.  I have spent many hours on this swing the last few years as I listened to the songs of my mockingbird and watched the contrails of commercial aircraft pass miles over head. So many, have I watched pass over my home during their comings and goings usually in the same direction that I simply extrapolated from where I was in central Louisiana, they must be traveling to and from Atlanta, GA and Houston, TX.   The full moons and planets I have witnessed from this very spot or sanctuary, as memories, have found root in my normally placid mind.  How could I be so remiss as not to mention the sunrises that always spoke to my heart while sitting there before my river found favor?  It was here that I was sitting with my 13 year old granddaughter, invited by none other than myself to my hallowed place where I bronze my past and debate my future.  Conversation gave way to playfulness as I took 10 pictures promising to put the iPhone away if I could just get that right one.  Eventually, her mother, Lindsay, arrived as she too joined us on the patio just a few minutes before Linda arrived home from work.  There were too many people to entertain, so I charcoaled the grill and joined in pieces of their conversation until that “time” was gone forever.

 

          Hours later, as I looked through my iPhone at the pictures I had taken, one stood out.  I kept going back to it for some reason.  Enlarging the picture, I could not help but wonder with a sort of teary eyed softness, “where did the past go?” That beautiful little child now replaced by the young lady who is trying to hide behind her hand while resting her head on my shoulder. Sorting through the other “selfies” I snapped of the two of us, it was this one that touched me the most.  And because of this one picture, I felt the need to reflect. 

 

          She came into my life with the designed intent of an omnipotent God to help me become a man of compassion and understanding.  To help me throw off the chains of racial stereotyping I suffered from simply because of the era in which I was raised.  You see, this little pregnancy accident was in fact, no accident at all.  In the mind of the Religious Man, the only substantiated reason for this  unplanned baby who was born out of wedlock was simply that she was a sinful mistake!  At that time, I must confess, I fell for that too.  Social conditioning so to speak.  You see, actually this was my second trip down this unexpected pregnancy road, as my first experience was given in adoption a short couple of years earlier.  Was this because I could not raise a bi-racial child?  God knows I struggled with that, but no!  That was NOT the reason.  Looking back, it was not my prejudice that forced that child into adoption, but simply the Holy Spirits work in the heart of my daughter alone.  My wife and I were prepared to do what we needed to do as we allowed our precious daughter to make that decision herself.   We simply supported her decision even though she was only 14 at the time finding comfort in knowing the word abortion NEVER was considered as an alternative solution.   We did not know it then but God was answering the prayers of a couple in Texas and if I ever feel led to unfold the truths of that story on paper, you would understand it as clearly as I do now... I was there for the first birth, as I was there for this one.  I saw this child take her first breath in this life as the Doctor handed me the scissors and said, “Grandfather, would you like the honor?”  With that one snip, I released this child from the protective bonds of her mother to begin her ministry.  McKinzi Blair came to be, as my lessons on life shifted into another gear…

 

           When I looked at this picture, I did think of the past.  My, how this child has changed my life and what lessons God was able to teach me because of her!  If I told you a quarter of everything we experienced together, this short story would become a thick, fine print novel.  So let me make it as simple as I can in just a few short paragraphs.  She practically lived with Mawmaw and Pawpaw, and where the first two years of her life went, I can’t actually recall.  It might be because I suppressed the memories of those dirty diaper days!  I just know for years upon years her place was in my lap or sleeping between Mawmaw and me…  I discovered the birth experience was extremely tough on McKinzi because she could not walk or talk for a long time after she first came home.  In fact, if I remember correctly, it took almost two years for her to walk decently and that was about the time I could begin to understand “a bit” of the gibberish language she used to communicate.  I do know that somewhere around this time I was always encouraging her to say the words Pawpaw.  Guessed that would work.  It sounded good to me anyway. Yet somehow, someway, that child was determined to tell me who I was going to be.  As clear as what I can say it today, she looked at me and said the word “Poppy.”  That was it, and as her vocabulary grew, Poppy stuck and McKinzi became Kinzi, which evolved into Kinzi Bear.  Because of her bi-racial existence, I adopted a Lion King theme.  I was Poppy Mufasa and she was Kinzi Bear, and that is where the song found its beginning:

 

Kinzi Bear, Kinzi Bear;

                                                You are Poppy Mufasa’s Kinzi Bear.

                                                I love you, yes I do;
                                               You have changed my life completely, Kinzi Bear.

 

           I remember when my wife, Linda and I went to Branson, MO, with our youngest daughter, Paige and took Linda’s mom with us.  We were gone for four long days and three nights!  Short trip for us, but for Kinzi Bear, it was forever.  We came in rather late on a Sunday night and were rather tired.  Well, guess who shows up on that rather late night accompanied by her mother?  You got that right!  I was already on my side of the bed and I could hear Linda talking in the kitchen with Lindsay and Paige when little Miss Kinzi Bear walks in and looks at me.  Off came the shoes, socks, pants and then shirt.  I held my breath wondering if that diaper she had on was loaded and hoped that wasn’t coming off next!  As she finished with the last piece of clothing, up into the bed she climbed.  Not a word was said to me.  She crawled across that king sized bed, pulled the covers back, and scooted that little body right next to me pulling the covers up to her neck.  I looked at her as if to ask, “and what do you think you’re doing in here,” when she just looked at me and puckered up for a kiss.  Linda and Kinzi Bear’s mom walked in about this time, and her mother said, “Girl, get out of that bed.  We have to go home.”  As soon as these words were spoken, the stage was set for some sort of rebuttal coming in the form of a pitched hissy fit.  Just wasn’t sure at that point if it was to be pitched by McKinzi or me.  What both of us knew was the only piece missing to this puzzle was Mawmaw.  She needed to hurry up and get into bed to secure the night.  I can still see the look in Lindsay’s eyes when she broke out into a smile knowing she would have a better chance of dragging a mad pit bull out of that bed than she would have McKinzi…  Three nights was long enough for that baby, and she knew there was no better place in the world than between Mawmaw and Poppy.

 

          Chocky milk.  Anyone know what that is?  That is the cold stuff you keep by the gallon in the refrigerator to make kids happy.  Let me define kids as it relates to the Ferguson household, my youngest daughter Paige, Kinzi Bear, and yours truly.  Every night Kinzi Bear went to sleep with her sippy cup filled with chocky milk and a serenade from my heart as she nursed away slipping further and further toward unconsciousness;

 

                                               

I love hugs and kisses in the night time too;

I hold you close and tell you that I love you so

And then we hold each other tight;

And then we go to sleep;

That’s when we share a pillow and our dreams. 

Kinzi Bear, Kinzi Bear;

You are Poppy Mufasa’s Kinzi Bear.

I love you, yes I do;

You have changed my life completely, Kinzi Bear.

 

 

And every morning before I left for work, I would kiss her good bye and without opening her eyes she would reach up onto the head board of the bed and feel around with those precious little hands until she found that sippy cup, magically again filled with Chocky milk.  Usually in the morning time, I took the time to make it a little special.  It was more than chocky milk.  It was warm chocky milk!  Yes.  This went on for what seemed years!  But it did “went on” so fast… So very fast!

 

          Linda and I had a successful nursery and landscape business that occupied our every waking moment.  Our customers knew of our older kids as they grew up at our nursery.   After the older kids left home, only my youngest daughter remained, along with a hand full of cats that earned their keep babysitting the younger children of our customers.  Kinzi Bear became a regular there as well.   Don’t know what my customers thought and didn’t care.  Linda had a way of letting them know this was our granddaughter and not our youngest child.  Yes, we probably had a few that would assess this picture and draw a conclusion that the bull jumped the fence somewhere but we didn’t care.  Kinzi Bear was dropped off one day at the nursery by her mom and gravitated to my desk where she handed me a $1 dollar bill.  I asked her, “What do you want Poppy to do with this money?”  She had no concept of the value of money, yet.  She just knew when you gave it to people you could get some pretty good stuff in return.  

 

          As I sat there trying to put some kind of bid together for a customer, Kinzi Bear sat patiently beside me observing the world pass by.  A customer had come into the office and needed a tractor scoop of bark mulch at his home not five houses from the nursery.  I told him to just take the tractor and get a scoop and drive it up the street to his house to save him and I both time.  As he drove out of the driveway to cross the street, Kinzi Bear said, “Poppy, Poppy, somebody takin’ you ‘tetak!”  I stood up and picked her up and said, “Oh no! Kinzi, what is Poppy going to do!  Someone took my tractor,” I chided as we watched it disappear a short distance down the road into the customer’s yard.  I could tell she was extremely concerned that someone had taken her Poppy’s tractor!  She knew where that tractor belonged and was beside herself.   That sweet baby grabbed my face, turned my head toward hers, to look into my eyes and told me very matter-of-factly, “Go get ouh another tetak, Poppy!”  I could not help but notice her intensity.  The last time I had seen her that intense was when she came running into the bedroom after Linda got a piece of her butt for something, and she demanded of me, “Poppy, go fuss at Mawmaw!”  The fuss was of course pronounced with a P as the “f” sound was more difficult.  You know.  Feets were peets kinda thing?  Anyway, I told this precious child as honestly as I could muster without laughing, “Baby, Poppy can’t afford to buy a new tractor, because that would cost way too much money!”  With those words, her world stopped and because I was in her world, so did mine.  It was the look she gave me as that sweet hand still rested on my cheek.  Staring intensely into my eyes she spoke these words directly to my heart with such conviction as if she were trying to understand (I have misty tears as I type her answer),  “But Poppy, I gave you all my money!!”  You see, in her mind, I had all the money in the world because she gave it to me.  What that one dollar bought, was my heart and soul in one big package.

 

          Some of my fondest memories of this baby, as with most all of my kids and grandkids as well, were Sunday’s.  I would think as long as these children are remotely dependent on the family core for any of their basic needs, they know what will happen on Sunday mornings...  Church.  And that includes Sunday school as well.  To this very day, I have grandkids that spend the night at my house on Saturday’s because we take them to Church with us on Sunday mornings.  And goodness, was my Kinzi Bear a precious little sight when she was dressed up for Sunday in those pretty dresses and that dark curly hair...  This particular Sunday was special.  It was a transition Sunday in my Kinzi Bear's life.  As Mawmaw prepared her for church on this Sunday, the suggestion was made by Mawmaw and generally agreed to by Kinzi that she would venture into the public venue for the first time in her "Big Girl Panties."  I was so proud of her!   I removed her from the car seat and stood her on the parking lot and adjusted her dress and frilly socks.   I told her how pretty she was and how very proud Poppy was of her because she was wearing her big girl panties.  She was just as proud as she held my hand crossing the parking lot to her nursery/Sunday School class.  As we approached the church, several of my friends and the pastor were standing there greeting other members.  We were a sight to behold now, and I could not suppress this big smile on my face as I pointed out to these close “spiritual” acquaintances, this was our first day in "BGP’s."  Looking down, I saw that sweet child avoiding eye contact with these people as she stared at the asphalt parking lot.  She did not say or react in anyway other than to appear bashful.  Was this not how little girl’s act?  The message I was clearly being sent by this not yet three year old child was more, Poppy, if I were old enough, I would bite a hole in your neck!  Ok, maybe I should not have announced to God and all of his disciples on this Sunday morning that this was her first time out in big girl panties, but I didn’t say that.  I said BGP’s.  She understood very well exactly what I said because when I came to pick her up a scant hour and a half later, she greeted me with a big smile as I took her hand in mine while at the same time I was handed a baggie containing soaking wet big girl panties complete with a pair of frilly socks.  This time it was her smiling as we walked back across the parking lot to the car as I escorted her hand in hand back to where it all began as we prepared to go home. Surely this child was not gloating?   Seriously.  You think?

 

 

          She eventually graduated from Kindergarten, and moved into the first grade and practically lived with Mawmaw and Poppy.  Where the next ten years went was exactly where the rest of my life continues to go...  Quickly away. It was at this same church she grew and matured and I had the honor of baptizing her along with my grandson into the family of He who sent her to me in the first place.  She is now my KBear.   Next year she will be in high school and from there who knows what direction this story might take.  She taught me that any notion of social conditioning that I possessed because I was ignorant, she was more than willing to show me the truth simply by loving me unconditionally.  Not intended of course, just the fact that if I could love her with the love I felt, then obviously I was wrong about a lot of things simply because my ignorance had not been tempered with the lessons of life that only a child could teach me.  And so my education continues even beyond this reading…

 

          We can debate what sin is according to the laurels of man as defined by his interpretation of “The Word.”   We can call sin a mistake or give it any name that the giver or accuser is comfortable with but here is what I know to be an absolute truth: Our ways will never be God's way as God's way will never be our way.  Without a resounding doubt in my heart, the reason for her existence was for her to help me become the kind of man I should have been from the start.  God sent KBear here just for me…  And there in a captured “selfie” taken on a holiday that will be debated forever by ignorant men, I recognized she was that one link that God sent to help me become more of the man He chose for me to be all along if I would just get out of the way.  How does it go?  He who began a good work in me, will be faithful to complete it??  That pretty much says it all, don’t you think?   And it was just a picture… 




Rod Ferguson
January 22, 2014
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