The Green Chair

A Love Letter to Liza

The late great Roger Miller wrote a song about a guy who shows up late, or forgets the thing, or calls his sweetie at the most inconvenient time; and she stops what she’s doing. 

And if that’s not lovin’ me, then all I’ve got to say is, God didn’t make little green apples

Liza, you are very seldom idle.  When your phone rings, and it’s me, it’s an interruption, right?  Your Bible study?  Your photography or scrapbooking?  Your pursuit of laundry?  But whatever it is, you stop what you are doing and ask, “Is it time for me to curl up in the green chair”?

You know why I am calling, don’t you?  You know that I am working on the daily devotional for the staff; and you know that before I hit “send,” I want to read it to you.  When I call from the principal’s chair, you grab your cup of tea, nestle in, and give me all of your attention.

You know it’s not just the inconvenience that I appreciate.  It’s not just the willing interruption of your day that I have come to take for granted.  It’s not just the time that you give to my private musings, or devotionals, or a letter that needs to be proofed, or the grumblings of a no good very bad day.  Although it’s all of that!

No, what I really appreciate is the seriousness and thoughtfulness with which you put your mind to the times I am seeking prayer, or wisdom, or quite possibly approval.  Sometimes you say, “That needs another sentence right after your introductory paragraph.”  Or, “That story just doesn’t work there.”  And sometimes, “That’s a keeper.”

And if that’s not lovin’ me…   

That green chair has come to mean a lot to me.  It means that you’re the one who presents your body as a living sacrifice.  It means that that you are the one who is there.  It means that you are the one who will tell it straight, speak the truth in love, and bring not just your own version, but your best shot at a Biblical view.  Of course, your editing sometimes requires more editing on my part; because it is a devotional, not a treatise.  It is only your wording that needs the cropping, not your thinking. 

This is our 38th celebration. Thirty-eight years of highlights. Thirty-eight years of the ordinary things that make a life of blessings. When I think of you in the green chair, it reminds me that you are like the girl in the song who stops what she’s doing. It reminds me that you are my closest friend and most confidential advisor. It reminds me of why I love you.

And if that’s not lovin’ me…

Love, Me

Happy Anniversary

August 2006