Beyond Grace

for me... and them

2012-01-25T06:41:00.001-05:00

Saturday I took eight hours all for myself... and the world did not fall apart. Not the whole world, and not even my little corner of it. As I write that, I wonder when it even occured to me that that could be a possibility? But some days, I do feel it. That if I stepped out the door, or stepped away... life would begin to unravel. That is quite a lot of pressure on one small life. And the fact is, that pressure is all created by me.

I am quite blessed with a husband who wants to be by my side and share the weekend together. He will drop me off at Hobby Lobby while he does his own errands, and then browses with me for just-a-bit when I am not quite finished wandering. Most of the time, if I tell him I have lunch with the girls planned, he'll smile & nod and off I go. But then, there are those other times... the times when I see his face fall in disappointment, or he jokes that I'd rather go with the girls than spend the day with him, that keep me from even suggesting it. I want to please him. Him... and everyone else. I suppose I don't even have to say where that leaves me...

I kissed my two goodbye as they headed out for math and horses before the thought raced through my head that I would not see them between their activities and mine. Calling them back, for one more kiss, I let them know that I was going to work on our scrapbooks and that I might not see them before bed, and they both cheered about the scrapbooks, even saying how much they missed me doing it, and one even added in how much she loves them. And when I said goodbye to Eric hours later? He sent me off with a have fun, and followed up with an I love you text.

I was gone just over eight hours, and nothing fell apart, broke or even shifted. I'm not sure they even missed me. I had fun. And... I might even go back next month.

a prayer request

2012-01-24T09:37:00.001-05:00

i actually had something else to post today... but it seems there is something so much more pressing than my silly story. my dear friend needs prayer, and it broke my heart to hear her say desperately. somehow the bad cells have broken through all of our prayers and she is asking for wisdom for her doctor, so that he might find the right thing to fight these cells. i would also ask for God to give him a compassionate heart today.

and isn't it just like this beautiful soul to not ask for anything for herself? but i am asking. for her resolve to remain strong, for her to see hope in her doctor's eyes, for her to feel cushioned by prayer, no matter what the plan might be. for there to still be a plan... please God. and always, for healing on this earth. even through my tears and heartache, and facts, i cannot give up on this part of my prayer.

update: thank you for your prayers... for ann, for her doctors, and for me. i just received a note from her that insurance approved new medication and it is a go. so... when she comes to your mind, would you pray that the new medication will knock these bad cells right from her body? xoxo

what i cannot buy

2012-01-23T06:37:00.002-05:00

Winter is my favorite Florida season... cool breezes, warm sun, and a lack of humidity weighing down the air. Perhaps the only downside is the oh-so-dry skin... and so I went searching for moisture. The shelves held endless options, and I only knew that I didn't want this one, because it was far too much thinking for me. My eyes bounced between pretty bottles and the prices, searching for a happy compromise. And then, I saw the one for me... one that included a touch of happiness. Didn't someone once tell me you couldn't buy happiness?

Each morning I read that line, and I smile. {Ah, so maybe there really is a little happiness blended in with orange blossom and bamboo!} But I know the truth. Happiness can come and go, like the breeze that whispers through the trees or a warm chocolate chip cookie. No, you can't cling to happy. So you must choose joy. Joy sticks when happy flees. Joy lights the path when the sun can't shine through the clouds. Joy holds your heart in the dark of night. Joy is Jesus... and what He has done for me brings something to my soul that could never be purchased. Life, hope, unconditional love, and grace.

Yes, I may have put a price on a little happiness, but joy is priceless.

I've got the joy joy joy joy

Down in my heart...where?

Down in my heart!

I've got the love of Jesus, love of Jesus

Down in my heart...where?

Down in my heart to stay

yes... in a good way

2012-01-18T21:08:00.001-05:00

He leaned in, kissed me softly, and asked if this trip made it more real. I nodded...

The other part of our weekend trip was a couple hours north of Seaworld... to visit a college. The last time we were passing through, school wasn't in session and all was eerily quiet. Yesterday was quite the opposite. The lots were full, the sidewalks were bustling... and there was an excitement that was practically contagious. And I could see her there. I could see her sitting in the courtyard with her paintbrush, or rushing along with the rest of the crowd. It wasn't hard to picture her, book open, lazing under a tall oak, Spanish moss blowing in the breeze. And as we visited with students over at the teaching zoo, she fit right in.

So yes. This trip made it all more real. But in a good way. I see the world opening wide, and the excitement dancing in her eyes tells me she is ready to embrace it. And truly, there could be nothing better.

what would you do for a klondike bear?

2012-01-17T07:48:00.001-05:00

We returned to Seaworld this weekend... because our passes were still valid, because we could combine it with a college visit, because... it is her birthday. The fun has been endless, and a true gift of time together. My heart has twisted & turned... and without naming it before, I know now that their hearts desires have certainly become my own.

Saturday, we saw the polar bear move. It was Johnnie, and I cried. I also jumped up and down and took pictures & video. He stood on his favorite rock and his mouth was open, and my heart believes he was singing a little birthday tune for his biggest fan. After logging hundreds of minutes at the icy window, her wish came true. And mine.

Yesterday we returned to the Arctic... and Klondike had just settled in for his day long nap. We enjoyed seeing him stretch and wriggle until he was finally comfortable, and then we decided to go on with our day. But after lunch, she decided to go back. And there she sat. For hours. I would pop in and check on her, we'd sing What would you do for a Klondike bear? and I would listen to her whispering to him... please, won't you come on over here? For my birthday? I told her to stay... that this is how I thought she would would spend her day, and it was okay. So she stayed, on the verge of turning into a girl-sicle. And finally, just before five, Klondike was on the move. I was off riding with Cam, but Eric was there with her... telling her it was okay to stay even though it was so close to our meeting time. And the smile in her heart melted mine in the telling.

Happy birthday, sweet girl.
For eighteen years we have made dreams come true together, and I am so excited to watch as you take those dreams, make them bigger and brighter, and make them your very own. I love you.

a reluctant gift

2012-01-13T06:46:00.000-05:00

I pin it over my heart and think of my beautiful friend... and I whisper the ceaseless prayer. Healing, Lord... on earth. Please. If I spoke it one hundred times a day, I wouldn't feel like I did enough, and yet... for Him, it is. The teal rhinestones sparkle and I think to count them as a gift... and then I pull it back. I don't want to be thankful for this ribbon, I want to damn it to hell. I don't want to be aware of the cancer and the sickness, I want to stomp it into the ground. I want there to be no reason for this ribbon. I just want healing. And in the mess of my thoughts, I know the truth. God can take the biggest messes and create something beautiful from them. And in this mess, He makes good on the promise. He shows me the grace in her eyes and in her heart. He shows me her gratitude for the right now. He teaches me that even this can have a purpose... so that He may be glorified.

I still want that healing on earth. I want it with all my heart. And I know deep down, whether I bury my head in the sand or become aware, the sickness lives and wonderful people visit the poison palace for hope and healing. So I wear the sparkling teal with honor... and hope that one day there will be a miraculous cure. And I decided, reluctantly, that it is indeed, a gift.

where you go i will follow

2012-01-12T06:53:00.000-05:00

He suggests a walk and my eyes light up. Really, all I need is a little encouragement.
We find shoes and sunglasses and head to the safari road. The air is warm and the breeze is cool... just the way I like it. We walk at as much of a clip as he can handle right now. Once in a while, we stop to really look... to soak in the surroundings. To seek wildlife, to listen for it. Today there is no low croak of an alligator though... just the buzzing of a million creatures.

Today... I am brave. Or... he makes me brave. We step off the boardwalk and traipse a little further in. The canopy of trees frame a far off egret, and let in sparkling light. I want to walk on and on, the fear of around the bend banished with my hand in his. He tires though, and we turn around.

Our strides have become a slow saunter... and we have time to talk. And no excuses. In the hustle of bustle of living, time seems scant and excuses plenty, but out here it is just us. We laugh over our silly children and marvel at them, too. I tuck away a reminder to tell them how great they are when we return. Heart shaped leaves makes us smile and feel that so-in-love-feeling that we sometimes forget to celebrate.

I love this walk... and this place has become our place, although who can really own the Florida wild?

oh boy!

2012-01-06T09:14:00.000-05:00

His first word was car. Not mama, or dada... car. And it was unmistakeable. I think it was my first big clue {beyond the obvious} to the differences between little boys and little girls. I have found many more along this fifteen year path... and each is like unraveling a mystery. But a connection to cars? I should have definitely expected that. The way he instinctively knew to vroooom them up and down and around; his choice to curl up with wheels and metal, instead of a cozy yellow bear. And I would watch, with wonder, the way he lined them up... just so. {I thought he might end up neat, but I was wrong!}

Yesterday was the day... he earned his learner's permit. He may not have smiled for the picture, but after weeks of studying and practice tests, he was smiling all around it. So the driving begins. Eric says he is a natural... and I am thinking that that just may be one more of those quirky differences.

less broken

2012-01-05T06:15:00.001-05:00

We walked in and out of his three month check up today... and as we were leaving, a woman came in on a backboard and stretcher for her own appointment. All at once I realized... that while I have been so thankful, I have not known the extent of how truly thankful I am. Not until that moment. Life could be so very, very different right now.

I didn't really mean to leave you hanging here... but life kicked in and there was fiesta planning and Christmas preparations. So let me pick up where I left off... in the emergency room.
: :
I wandered back and forth. When he called for me, I sat by his side in the small room right next to the nurses station. And when they slid him over to a new stretcher and wheeled him off for another x-ray, I made my way back to the waiting room, to update my friend. The cycle continued for hours upon hours before there was finally news. At least two broken vertebrae (turned out to be 3) and a transport to a different hospital. I can't recall a time I was more torn... follow him downtown, or head home to children and a few hours rest. He told me to go home, and even though I knew it was the right choice, it was so hard to send him off into the second ambulance of the night.
Morning came quickly. I assured them and kissed them, let them know he would be okay. I wrapped them up in my arms, perhaps more for me than for them, and headed straight for my sweetheart. I'm not sure I was prepared to see him so broken and in such pain... even though only five hours had passed. In the light of day, vision is so much more clear. But in the face of the unknown, I stood strong, trying to convince myself I was. Within minutes, the routine of x-rays continued... and there I stood, alone and unconvinced of strength. Breathe in. Breathe out. And before I could breathe in again, our friend Jim was in the doorway. Hadn't I called him (far too early on a Sunday morning) only thirty minutes ago? He had been on his way to church, and yet now here he was.

Nurses came and went. Eric was wheeled out for test after test. He was still in the bed, unable to move without great pain, and his breathing was labored and painful... lungs battered and bruised from the impact of the fall. Doctors made quick reports with not-quite enough info, even they had to wait for puzzle pieces to come together before decisions were made, before surgery could be ruled out. Through it all, friends and family and Eric's co-workers came by, offering anything and everything we needed.

It is what I choose to remember most. The revolving door of people who love us. A friend who sat and watched the whole Saturday night emergency room crowd come and go. Another that put aside his true dread of hospitals and just showed up... every day. Bleak days (five of them) were laced by their laughter, blessed by their prayers and presence. I don't think I knew that there were people would go this distance for anyone... let alone us.

The healing is almost complete. Another month of intense physical therapy and the doctor expects he'll be back to making the world a safer place. It has been a long road... but peace and grace have covered us along the way. And your prayers. When you sent me a note, I felt love... and when you commented that you were happy to see him up and around, I gave thanks for it all over again. You have been a part of my healing... thank you. We are a little less broken these days.

here are the other links of things I posted along the way:
-choose blessings
-holding on
-while we wait
-finding my way
-there is peace

conversation hearts

2012-01-04T06:01:00.003-05:00

Our mother-hearts conversed... her side spoke of a first Christmas, first steps and a birthday around the bend, while mine shared a college letter and a learner's permit. Our voices were full of love and amazement, of our children and this time in our lives... but I could see, in her eyes, the weariness. The harried heart of sitter-seeking and the exhausted wish that running in to grab a gallon of milk wasn't such a production. Was she counting the years towards my independence? I wonder if she could see, in my eyes, the grasping of moments. That I might give up the ease of a sprint through the grocery store for a single last breath of their sweet baby scent? The regret that I did not just hold them in my arms for all the hours of the day... because there simply wasn't one thing more important than our hearts beating in such close proximity?

I am still learning that mother-hearts are never without ache. And that even though we might be years apart in motherhood, the miles between our hearts are short. And the distance between one and eighteen? Try not to blink.

more than a gift

2012-01-03T08:12:00.002-05:00

have a playful spirit - be curious

find someone you really click with - sound out new ideas

glide through the day with ease - find your life's porpoise

jump for joy

{advice from a dolphin}

It was their big Christmas gift... a trip to Discovery Cove. Outrageous? Yes. But the timing seemed right. And when it came down to giving stuff or an experience & a memory, I realized that it was the perfect gift. We laughed, we splashed, we talked and we really did enjoy the day. As forcasted, the air dipped far below balmy, but the water was warm. And once we were in... the fun hardly stopped. Silvery fish swimming in schools, rays that glided through the water... all within reach. And when it was time for our dolphin swim... the magic washed through all over again. Stella, Mareyah and Diego... you are amazing creatures!

We lingered as long as we could... tired, but not quite wanting the wonder to end. The sun was starting to set, and in the golden rays, I gave thanks. For being able to give this to them. For birds that reminded me of Africa.

For the parks amazing ability to keep us warm. For God's magnificent creatures. For a day with my family that was as near to perfection as we might ever get. And for children who feel the awe of it and are appreciative. I knew they were... I could see it in their eyes and they said it outloud. Yes, it was just the right gift.

when the truth is enough

2012-01-02T16:11:00.002-05:00

The new year comes and we celebrate. With smiles and cheering laughter, with a toast and a kiss. We hardly believe twelve is here... and we raise our glass to hope and love and living. The days to come are filled with the promise of the unknown, but for one pure shining moment, the glittering lights cast no shadow.

Somehow though, before the sun even rises, declarations surround us. That this will be the year I... or from now on I will... I resist. Me, who celebrates everything and gathers tradition tight to my heart... I resolve nothing. I think I am afraid. Or just, in one small instance, practical. In all of my failing ways, I know that next time December comes around, I do not want to recall the ugliness of a broken resolution, or how I gave up, failed. Again.

Yes, there are ways I want to change... things that I want to banish... more I want to accomplish. But to declare it... makes me want to run and hide. So I keep my dreams close to my heart, I speak them in prayer to the One who loves me anyway. And when I fall short, when I feel broken and not enough, I can know one thing. I am a child of God... and succeed or fail, He loves me. No goal or dream or word is more powerful than that.

So when the world has travelled her path once more, and at the end of everyday from now til then... I will know I lived in the truth. A truth that comes to me rightly, and lovingly. In all of the hope and love and living, I am a child of God, and that has to be enough... because it is everything.

this mother's heart

2011-12-30T09:39:00.000-05:00

The first glance at the clock this morning sent me on a journey back in time. Fifteen years.
I remember that morning so clearly... waking and feeling my water break. The relief and giddy laughter, along with packing my bag, that followed. The trek to the hospital and knowing that this was it. The pregnancy that almost broke me was ending and my new adventure was just around the bend.

I believe it was all His plan... the tough months of preparation, the early labor... and all of the hope and joy and life that He bundled in this small boy. While Laura made me a mother, Camden made me more. For both of them. I was not unafraid... but when my heart quaked, God stilled it. His sweet smile, full nights of rest, the warmth of his small self... and the laughter that bubbled out of him at the most unlikely moments.

And now he is fifteen. Fifteen.
He is as much a joy to me today as he was then. Maybe... even more so... as I see this beautiful boy becoming the most generous man. My heart of thankfulness is certainly overflowing. And when this mother's heart quakes, I recall how he has taught me to love completely, fight for what is right and laugh with my whole self. And I am still.

To my beautiful (um, handsome. I mean cool. Or awesome) son... happy birthday. I love you.

a christmas wish

2011-12-23T09:26:00.002-05:00

The world is weary... from the rush of Christmas or the weight of life... and quite possibly both. The lamp posts are decked with greens, the airwaves are singing the tunes and homes are strung with twinkling lights... and still, I feel like I must sift through it all to find Christmas.

And under the mess... there it is, shining bright with hope.

In the stacks of shoeboxes, in the overflowing toy drive bins.

In the lay-away angel stories, the leaving of secret gifts and in the hearts of friends.

In the scrawl of a small, sweet girl...

And always, always... in the manger.

My Christmas wish for you... is to feel the presence of that tiny baby, and all it means to your life. For you to feel His love deep in your soul... and pass it on. Because no matter what is under the tree, we already have all we need in Him.

Merry Christmas... with love.

a new decade

2011-12-21T07:10:00.002-05:00

The lights are still strung across the backyard, and while traces of the fiesta remain here and there, the cake is but a memory. Hello forty, here I am. The neighbor was kind enough to say that he would have thought thirty... and though I smiled graciously, I am owning forty. What else can you do, really, when your daughter is just weeks away from eighteen? I would not trade a smile or laugh line for all the world... and even the worries that have etched their marks, have contributed to who I am now. Lessons and laughter and living... I will bring them along into this next decade of me. Yes, I will own forty... because as it has been said, it is not the years in your life that count, but the life in your years.

i love to hear the story

2011-12-20T05:28:00.006-05:00

The choir sang... and the little ones told the story, with a little help from the big ones.

They were dressed in their Christmas finery... feathery angel wings, halos spun with tinsel, gowns & robes tied with cord belts... that, at times, doubled as lassos. Joseph strayed, shepherds ran laps, and the angels were restless. And somehow, it was perfect.

It is the story that is made sweeter in its imperfection... whether in Bethlehem, an old school cafeteria or a new shiny church. The story that is told again and again, and still makes me cry because... it is my story, too. One that breathes hope and love... and promises gifts beyond our imagination. It is the story that brings our hearts back to the humble stable... where Love was born. And if you can't lie down next to the manger, where can you rest?

scenes from a {beautiful} weekend

2011-12-19T17:11:00.003-05:00

a fiesta...

and Christmas celebration.

how do they know?

2011-12-15T06:19:00.002-05:00

I do not have a green thumb... but somehow, in spite of me, the poinsettia we planted in the yard last winter has flourished. Grown to at least twice what it was, and the leaves cannot be told from the blooms, all alive in the prettiest shades of green. My thumbs are envious.

Making my way out the door, those leaves stopped me in my tracks. The greens have deepened, the veins have darkened and the leaves are becoming... red. Just in time for Christmas. How do they know?

This is Florida, where the December days stretch to balmy 80s, so I argue against the change in season... and I marvel at what has to be the truth. Like deer donning dark winter coats, or beaver preparing their homes for a long winter... or an abundant harvest of acorns that appear after a year of few... those leaves just know.

Green leaves turning red... not yellow or blue, neighbors on the color wheel. Red is a leap for green, but what is impossible with God? Certainly not a Christmas miracle. He breathes His command into the air and it is so. His breath sweeps through the branches, sails down a river... speaks a message to the soil. He shows us His love in big ways, through small things. Like a scarlet poinsettia... at Christmas.

How do they know? My mind turns to singing... Does he love me? I wanna know! How can I tell if he loves me so? ... If you wanna know if he loves you so, its in his kiss! And my mind's eye sees Him... sending His love into the world, blowing a kiss on the wind, after His Son. Breathe for life. Jesus air.

There is no doubt... He loves us so.

wordless wednesday

2011-12-14T07:07:00.002-05:00

sand in my toes, rain in my hair

2011-12-13T06:43:00.001-05:00

There was no question about giving up a few hours on Sunday, I would have given her the whole Sunday... the whole week if she had asked. The questions were in the sky. What time was sunset? Would the chance of showers turn into a rainy mess? Would the dark clouds loom too close? As the afternoon ticked on, I wondered if we would see the sun at all. Making our way to the beach, I prayed to the God of impossible things... please God... hold back the rain. I knew Ann was praying the same.

It began as we stepped off the boardwalk and into the sand. Umbrellas up, towels out... and we stood beneath the seagrapes, trying to stay dry. Praying. Checking the radar. Laughing. Praying some more, with faith unwavering. And at last... God parted the clouds.

I wanted to take the pictures of a lifetime, not to say that I did, but just for her and her family. Because they just might be the pictures of her lifetime. The camera clicked for twenty minutes and their little family snuggled in laughing and smiling while I did my best to document the love that shone around them. Deep down my heart knew that no matter what, the photos would be a gift. To her now. For them... down the road.

The rain returned... and hoping that we had plenty of good shots, we trekked back to the car. Evidence of waves wrapped 'round my knees, and my hair was soaked with rain. To add insult to injury, I hit the wrong button at the shower, and expecting the sand to be washed from my toes, a blast of icy water hit my head. And then... they offered dinner. I wanted to say yes! But could I put this vanity aside? Through a smile my insides hemmed. and hawed. But how could I say no, knowing that every moment is precious? So I did the best I could with the only comb I could find {those little picks on the ends of a toy tiara} and I vowed to put a hairbrush in the car for next time. And though I walked into that restaraunt almost dripping wet, I was smiling, thankful to have grabbed the moment.

: :

Some gifts sit lonely waiting to be recognized. Some have a time limit.
That she would ask me to take these pictures, that she would let me. The beautiful is her... my dear, sweet friend who is fighting for life. The messy is me... praying for the impossible, and fighting back the tears on any given day. I teach myself to seek. And I try not to let myself get in the way. Because all we really have is right now. The mess will likely never end... so I might as well splash in it.

Unwrapping life, a most precious gift, on a Tuesday...

night lights

2011-12-07T10:14:00.002-05:00

I am a New England girl, heart and soul.
I long for the crisp chill of winter, and I dream of white Christmases. But life and God's plan has me planted in the warmth of Florida...

And nights like this... tell me I am right where I belong.

the right now

2011-12-06T06:33:00.003-05:00

He stretched out on the couch, long and lean, while I sat hovering.
Does the heat help? Is is too hot? Do you need another blanket?
It seems years have passed since the last time he needed me in the middle of the night. Many years. But ears have a way of crying out in the wee small hours. He winces through the pain, and my whole mama-self wants to haul him up in my arms and hold him close while I whisper away the pain. But that inch he has grown past me makes it all but impossible. I settle for the hovering... the reheating of the bean-bag, the spreading of another blanket, the watching, the waiting.

Each age, each phase they tumble through, each moment in time... is scattered with gifts, even if they are occsionally scattered in the rubble. I wonder what I would give for the chance to turn back the page and hold my little boy, full in my arms, just once more. The vision slinks in with a warm love glow... and for a minute, all seems worth it. And then clarity comes about and I realize how good it is right now. No trade would suffice... right now needs to be the victor. Right now, perched on the edge of big dreams, with its independence and sense of humor and never-ending list of things that make a mama smile.

I hear his even breathing, place a kiss on his forehead... and I whisper a thank you to the Creator of what was, what is and what will be.

: :
A week flies by and it is Tuesday again... a Tuesday with gifts to unwrap. The gifts are not always beautiful at first glance, but when I seek with grace-colored-glasses, I find the beauty that was longing to be found. Last week Emily urged to "Begin with the gifts at your feet and see where they take you." Thank you, Emily. They have taken me on a journey and back.

there is peace

2011-12-02T07:44:00.013-05:00

He has always been the fun dad. You know the one. You look around at the party, and after seeking high, you find him low... in the midst of a crowd of little ones. If there is a pool, he is the one tossing them higher than they should fly. And if there is a blazing camp fire, there he sits, enthralling them with tales of the Headless Orange-Picker (you many not have heard of him, he is an original.) So it wasn't a big surprise to me when he headed out, with the guys, to a kids tree house in a friend's backyard.

I almost shouted a warning, then didn't.
As he walked up the slide, second thoughts popped into his head, then out again.
Our friend was supposed to ride the zip-line next, but let Eric cut in front of him.

Even as he was lying there in the pine needles, I knew this was part of the plan. There was pain, yes... but his toes were moving. He gasped for breath, but spoke through the lack of it. Even as he was lying there, waiting for the ambulance, I could feel His Grace... and I thanked Him for it. There was a peace that passed all understanding.

I probably could've driven myself behind the ambulance... but friends don't let friends drive in a state of the unknown. Nor do they let you wait, alone, in the emergency room on a Saturday night.
to be continued...

counting on christmas

2011-12-01T06:48:00.000-05:00

Chilly morning, hot coffee... and the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree. December.

My advent wreath has been on the table all week, candles standing {kinda} tall... but today we begin the count... to Christmas. Twenty-four days. So many years ago, those twenty-four days took forever to pass, but now I know these days will hardly be enough. They will pass far too quickly. I only hope that I can make the most of the hours... that I can bring my heart right along side Love.

We will mark the days by opening little doors... finding tiny treasures. At just-about-fifteen and almost-eighteen I wonder if they still really love it, but I cannot bear the thought of not. So it is Legos for him and "industrial chic" charms for her. It seemed like a good idea, and then too extragavant... but how many more seasons do I really have to do this? {this morning their faces list up with JOY!}

And as day is done... I hope to gather around the table in the shimmer of candle-light. Each night one step closer to Bethlehem. Oh this is the story that my heart loves. The dusty road, the sweet-smelling hay, and the bright shining star... each a piece that brings us closer to Love.
The story that is the beginning of my saving...

Yes, I'm counting on Christmas.

and there was thanks

2011-11-30T06:19:00.003-05:00

We had to borrow two chairs, six spoons, four forks and two dinner knives in order to gather twelve around the table. Where does all of the silverware go?! I knew it would be snug... but I also knew it would be lovely. Family, and friends who might as well be family, side by side... giving thanks and enjoying each other. Turkey and all the fixings... including the parade that always makes me cry.

We chat on into the evening... and end with candle light and conversation on the lanai... while the kids tackle games on the Wii.

My list of thankful runs 'round in my head... and I know it is not just for this day.

It is for every day.

tuesday unwrapped... again

2011-11-29T06:15:00.003-05:00

We sit across the room from each other while the t.v. blares, but neither of us is giving our full attention to the Cake Boss. She plays a game on her ipod and I knit, and though we are not having a conversation or working on something together, we are. Together.

When she retreats to her room for jammies, I don't really expect her to return, but for a goodnight kiss. I can feel my face smiling as she snuggles back down into the deep of the couch and returns to her game. I think I might lose her when I retreat for my own jammies, but there she remains. She even giggles when I call us the Jammie Girls.

We sit together, but not. Most nights she would be curled up for sleep by now... or on the verge of it, wrapped up in the pages of a far-off adventure. But one reason or another, the rambling on of the Cake Boss or the comfort of the little couch, has kept her in the living parts of the house tonight. When our half-attentions connect and we both laugh at the same line, I smile.

Somewhere in the world of growing up, in the space between needing me and not, we find a little bit of friendship. And more and more, I see who she is, and who she will be, instead of the wide-eyed girl she was just yesterday. I realize that there is no ordinary day, no ordinary hour. Every breath we navigate is new and unusual... and perhaps laced with the fear of the unknown. So in this sitting together, but not... I find the gift. I want to grasp it and hold it tight to my heart... for I know that in the blink of an eye, it will be time to let her fly.

: :

Thank you, Emily, for this return to Tuesdays Unwrapped.
When my heart was feeling stale, you pushed me to find a little bit of beauty... and I'm so glad not to have missed it.

this year

2011-11-22T16:04:00.002-05:00

In past years I have sought it, and even though my heart has been thankful, I have come up empty handed. So much so, that last year I came to the conclusion that the feeling of Thanksgiving, for me, is in the day. In the parade and in the gathering. But this year... oh, this year I am overflowing with the spirit of Thanksgiving, and have been all week.

Perhaps it comes in the preparation. The knowing that my table will be full and our home overflowing. Perhaps it comes in the creating. The planning and the special touches that say I love you without the words. Or maybe... maybe it comes in the stillness. The knowing that the whole week is ours, and there is hardly a place we have to be.

Whatever the reason, I'm already full.
Full of the anticipation.
Full of love.
Full... far ahead of Thursday and turkey.
Thankfulness abounds.

oh, what a night

2011-11-13T20:31:00.003-05:00

I'll take astro-turf over a red carpet any day...

Add in a balloon archway, spinning silks, and the rustle of silver poms... and I just might be over the moon. The gold harvest moon that hung in the sky, proclaining the perfect night for fall, football, and marching band.

I suppose that you can't really know how big a deal "Senior Night" is until it is your turn... your turn to walk your heart across the field. We swung our clasped hands as we giggled across the field, and she sparkled. A sparkle that had nothing to do with the tiara atop her head. Oh, I cannot believe that senior year is here... and yet I am so ready to celebrate her and all that is coming her way.

Shine on sweet girl... we are so amazed at the young woman you are, heart and soul.

and now i know

2011-11-10T06:03:00.001-05:00

During one of the day's crazy conversations someone asked Is it a full moon? I just laughed at her question... because I had no idea. It seems weeks since I have peered up at the sky and drunk it into my soul. But now I know. Full moon, bright and shining... a night light like no other.

I raced for the camera, wanting to capture the beauty of treasure hung high in the sky. Standing there in the yard, in the quiet, in the beauty... I felt a calm. He feeds me through the sky. Sunsets and white cotton stretched across a sea of bright crisp blue... or sunlight streaming through. Dark morning sky still scattered with stars, or a glowing moon on the rise.

Masterpiece of His heart, food for my soul.

finding my way

2011-11-09T06:38:00.000-05:00

She sits lonely, this blog...
while her author slowly, oh so slowly, finds her way back to her words.

There is so much between the words and me... a thousand distractions turning up and untying the strings of words I somehow have brought together, all at once leaving them in a pile on the floor. They are not lonely though... so many other things are keeping them company down there, scattered throughout the house. If only I had the energy to do it all. And in that I find the blessing of thankfulness... the gift of a husband who does so much to contribute to the workings of our home, even if can't right now.

He is healing... slowly. Is there any other way?
Rest, rest, rest... over-do. And the then cycle begins again. We are thankful for that too... that any healing comes his way. Very thankful that three broken vertebrae will heal. So we continue this balancing act with a smile... managing the pain, forcing the resting, picking up the slack, making due with the situation of right now. My heart and soul are weary, but even in this I see His plan and embrace it. Prayers are answered and I am taken by surprise at how much He provides. He has a great plan, one greater that we can even fathom. I praise Him in this storm... and follow Him as he leads me on my way.

if it wasn't official before...

2011-10-27T07:49:00.001-04:00

Today she turns in her cap and gown order.
Way back when... 2012 seemed a lifetime away, and somehow, now it is almost looking me in the eye.

She came home giddy with excitement, and when I finally got home, I was as excited as she... to browse through the senior stuff with her. Reading the tag lines on the cover had me marvelling at the clever author and ooooh-ing at the picture memories spinning through my mind. And then... in the next moment, I was sobbing.

Oh baby girl, I am teetering on the line of disbelief... the one drawn between excitement and touch of sorrow. But oh, this life... is beautiful from any angle... and you will shine.

I can count on it.

being thankful

2011-10-25T14:47:00.001-04:00

It's been more than a week of days since I have felt like there has been a possibilty of stringing a few thoughts together, but now... the words are stirring again. Hearts have been praying, and it seems that the thick veil of exhaustion has lifted some. I am thankful. I suppose knowing things are going to be okay and the actual road of getting there are two completely different things... and sorting out the differences make me weary. But there is less pain and more living... and the promise of an update tomorrow. Any news is better than no news.

Fall has come, and with it, fresh air. For deep breathing. For cheering. For laughing. Yes, there has been some of each. Again, I am thankful. The breeze circles 'round us and we think outloud that perhaps this is the best season of the year. But the next, and the next after that will come, each with its own glory and gifts... and it too will be the best season of the year. And it makes me smile... to know that the best is still just around the bend.

while we wait

2011-10-10T06:04:00.002-04:00

The days stretch on in uncertainty... even the weather can't quite decided which end is up, pouring down buckets of rain while the sunlight is still filtering through the trees. But being home is good, and the sound of the rain on the roof lulls me into rest. Although, my body isn't sure it could actually have it any other way. Exhaustion has arrived in full force. Let the healing begin.
It is not just his back that needs healing... the past week has tried to bend our souls with fear and pain and that uncertainty. And the light at the end of the tunnel, the light declares life has returned to the normal that you knew, seems faint and flickering, and we know it is at least two months away. With rest, togetherness, a new arrangement of furniture and borrowed choices of seating, we begin to paddle our way towards the Healer... and when our eyes are weary, and we wonder if the weight of sleep will lift, His Grace comes around us like a life-jacket.
Grace enters in, and keeping our eyes on the tunnel-light no longer seems necessary. It pours over us in love of family and friends, and in casseroles and simmering, savory aromas. Prayers and well wishes surround us and lift up not only Eric and his injury, but all of us as we band together. And even the scariest financial details... they are bathed in His Grace, and we see a glimpse of His Plan.
Healing may be a pinhole of light flickering in the distance... but the comfort and promise of His Plan lights the way. We do not know the details that are yet to be, but we rest... assured that in Him, healing will come, and
that uncertainty has nothing on Grace.

holding on... on a wednesday

2011-10-05T09:24:00.001-04:00

Remember that joy is not dependent on your circumstances. True joy is a by-product of living in My Presence. Therefore you can experience it in palaces, in prisons... anywhere. -Jesus Calling, Sarah Young
Anywhere. Even in this hospital. Even facing a day of pain, which will surely come when Eric is finally upright, braced and walking. Things are moving along here... and while we have been told that Friday is a possible day for heading home, we don't even write it in the notebook. Not even in pencil. There are many things that need to happen before home happens... many doctors who need to sign off and say okay. There are still questions, still situations that are unsure. But there is good care, edible food, loving visitors... and Jesus. Always Jesus, anywhere.

choosing blessings

2011-10-03T07:26:00.020-04:00

The sunshine slips in under the drapes and I catch a glimpse of the outside world. The beautiful, sunshining, first-day-of-cool outside world. But where else where would I be but here... by his side as he lays still and just a little broken. I watch him sleep... and know that he will be okay, but my prayers still will the healing, still ask for the pain to subside. Pastor came and prayed... for a healing beyond what seems possible to us. I know He hears every prayer... so we wait.

I see two paths... and choose the one lined with blessings.
-toes & fingers that wiggle and that the medication does take the edge off the pain
-friends that just show up... and though they do not come empty handed, just their presence is enough
-prayers, messages and notes... knowing that we are not alone.
-nurses that care... and one in particular who found a bigger room
-the view from the cafeteria... lily pads scattered across the pond
-kids who take this in stride... and the chance to kiss them before they went off to school
-the sense of humor that is not lost
-the green paper crane that keeps watch...
-family who says don't worry
-he answers the phone and says I'm doing great. He's not... but I like that he thinks he is.
-kindness in a door held open and a smile... I'm sure he didn't know my next stop was the hospital
-a time to worship... hymns through the speakers as I drive through the black of early morning... and the light that begins to welcome the new day
-the tears that come in that time of worship... a release of my heart.
-it is well with my soul... and when I hear that song, I recall Beth Moore's words It may not be well with my circumstances, but it is well with my soul. And it is.

Your prayers are blessings to our family. Tracie always asks me for specific prayers... so I will add these.
-That there are only 3 vertebraes fractured.
-That the healing be quicker than the doctors could imagine.
-That Eric's spirits stay high.

Today I am linking to Richella's Imparting Grace... because these blessings are His grace and we are resting in them.

handwriting

2011-09-30T13:00:00.003-04:00

I love handwriting. I love finding a hand-addressed envelope in my mailox (rare!) and guessing who sent it. I can pick out Amy's writing in a heartbeat. My Mom's familiar loops are recognized instantly. Oh, and my Gramma's beautiful script... I always wanted to write like her.

This summer, I recall a hand addressed envelope that made me laugh... addressed to me! I studied the print and made a guess that it might be Kim... but a glance at the postmark told me otherwise. My second round of scrutiny brought no answer, and I slid my finger under the corner of the flap in defeat. And then there was laughter. The handwriter? Me. I had forgotten that I had packed the card and envelope in Cam's backpack for camp... making him promise to send me one letter!

My scrapbooks are full of my handwritten stories and captions... because I know how much I treasure the swirls and loops and individulaity created by the ones I love. And how much more will I treasure those handwritten treasures when my loved ones are gone? My handwriting is a part of me... and though I can't seem to recognize it in the mail, I think that others just might. And so... while a typed paragraph may be neat and tidy, I truly believe the one written by your own hand is more beautiful. Even if you don't like your writing.

It seems like it was forever ago that I began the dinging room table project... and perhaps it is not-quite completed- but it is the most complete it might ever get! I do love it...

And I love it more that in a moment of brilliance I flipped up some of the postcards and preserved some of those treasured loops and swirls.

home-made safari

2011-09-28T09:51:00.001-04:00

Eric spends his life in the car... patrolling up streets, and down. In his "travels" he discovered a really lovely spot. He introduced me to it a few months ago when he spotted some sand hill cranes out there... he knows they make me squeal with happy...

I might have had to climb out of the car and perch on the "window sill" for a picture or two... and as he drove down the dirt road, that safari feeling overcame me. The scenery in no way reflects Africa... but the wind on my face as we bumped down the road? Made me long for it...

Friday we returned... for a walk along the newly opened boardwalk. The air was alive with the buzzing of dragonflies, and in the distance we could hear the low croak of an alligator or two. We walked, we talked, and we laughed as we admired what was just over the railing.

When the bugs and the heat dictated that it was time to head home, we drove slowly, still taking in the view. The storm clouds were building behind the trees and the wide open vista spoke to my heart. What did it say? It was talking some kind of crazy... and practically begged me to bring Laura out for a visit...

So I did. She was a great sport... and so was Eric.
Especially Eric. Even though we got back to the house before the time of the appointed pre-dance get-together, he had to entertain her dance date, along with his mother & sister, and three of Laura's friend... who all showed up ten minutes early! Oh well.. it was worth the ten minutes that Laura & I had together... just us.

{virtual coffee} 18

2011-09-27T09:18:00.001-04:00

I'm sitting down to my first pumpkin spice coffee of the season. There's plenty more, and if you were really here, I'd be more than happy to share... unlike I might be in February when I've entered my holiday-flavor-hoarding-mode. There is no hint of fall in the air, but after fifteen Florida Septembers, I know better than to be expecting the crisp, clean air days yet. But October is coming, and in a few weeks Mother Nature might start teasing us with a few of those beautiful days.

If we were really meeting for coffee today, I might sit and listen more than chat... but I'd be sure to share my excitement over last week's homecoming. In pictures.

I love when she gets all dressed up... and I love that she can get all dressed up and still look like who she really is. I think it is such a gift to have no fancy illusions of who you want to be, and just be okay with who you are. I try to take in the lessons she lives and breathes...

If we were really meeting for coffee, I'd definitely ask you Have you read Grace for the Good Girl? I finished it and then started right back at the beginning. Yes, I loved it that much. Reading Emily's words are like reading into a mirror. As I read, I shredded my Amazon packing slip so that I could mark the words that struck my heart. Words like "My idea of who I should be is at war with who I am. I want to be perfect in every situation. I just do. I want to know what to do. I want to know how to do it right. And I want to do it.All.By.My.Big.Self." Uh... hello. And how about this... "I stay strong when I feel weak, and I fake happy when I want to cry because my ideal image has everything to do with put together and nothing to do with falling apart." And so you know that Emily shares the Grace? "You are not responsible to have it all together. You are free to respond to the One who holds all things in His hands. You do not have to live up to impossible expectations. You are free to wait expectantly on Jesus, the One who is both author and perfecter of your faith." As I got the the end, and as I am beginning again, I find myself tearing those slips of paper in half so I can mark one more passage. I really need to get out a highlighter.

If we were really meeting for coffee today, I'd thank you for the prayers. Yes, it has been a tough couple of weeks, but I am doing okay. Better. I have given up a few volunteer commitments... because even though I enjoy volunteering, there comes a breaking point. A time when you realize that your volunteer time is taking you away from the very people you are supporting. And even if you still have the time to spend, the energy needed to participate in your family is long gone. I've been right there and a little beyond. But day by day I am finding myself again... making rest, and breathing, a priority.

If we were really meeting for coffee today, I'd be thrilled...

shiny wrappers

2011-09-26T12:35:00.002-04:00

I saw the gleam of green between his finger... and I whispered that it was okay to eat the candy in church. He looked up and returned the whisper I already did. We shared a smile and while he continued to toy with the empty wrapper, I took a little trip back in time...

Before Africa and summer road trips, there was Washington D.C. For two weeks during the summer we would visit Gran & Grandad and in between all of the other fun, we would squeeze in walks around the monuments and trips to the museums. And every year, we would find one new place to discover. The trip to the National Postal Museum was one of our last trips before Eric's parents moved to Florida...

I remember walking into the museum and admiring the grand details and the craftsmanship of the ceiling. I remember looking down the long hall, and feeling like we had tumbled back in time, just a little. I remember noticing there was a security check-point and preparing to get there... gathering up everyone's bags & backpacks. I will never forget the look on Cam's face. Eyes were wide and his chin quivered, just a little. I could tell there was something wrong. Kneeling down in front of him, looking into those red-rimmed eyes, I saw the beginnings of a tear. Quietly he pulled his hand from his pocket and said I forgot to ask if I could have these. Now the tears were no longer in hiding, and either were the three shiny, gold-wrapped candies. My arms wrapped up his whole body and I hugged him to me. I knew the candies had come from Gran's candy dish... and I knew that she never required them to ask. That candy was free for the taking. But this small soul, sobbing in my arms, had panicked at the thought of going through the security check point with contraband Werthers in his pocket.

We took the tears in stride, and used it a a teacheable moment. But we also laughed about it right there in the grand hallway lined with marble columns and antique mail boxes. Seven years later and my heart still skips a beat over it. But I smile, and giggle to myself, and continue to watch his hands fold, unfold, and re-fold that little bit of shiny paper. There is a part of me that wishes I could still wrap up his whole self in my arms... but instead I thank God for the memory... a precious bit of His grace.

saying yes... and no

2011-09-21T07:05:00.001-04:00

It's homecoming week around here... lots of fun, lots of silly. Though it's early in the school year, the timing seems just right. I need some silly right now... and laughter that is good for the soul. I will say yes to the laughter.

This week life comes in two lists. One yes, one no.
Caffeine? No. Taking on more? No. Exercise? Yes. Relaxation? Yes. Breathe? Yes, please.
That straw, the one responsible for breaking the camel's back, came calling last week. It was scary and left me with a lot of empty space inside. But somehow, just recognizing the anxiety for what it is, and accepting some help instead of trying to fix it myself (or pushing it aside for later, leaving it un-fixed) has me moving again. Moving towards the sunshine, towards the laughter. Towards... life.

the path to whole

2011-09-14T20:51:00.001-04:00

The dappling of sunlight across the walls led me out into the air, and although fall is weeks and perhaps months away, that air was still and comfortable. The summer has been long... long enough for me to almost forget the bright turquoise chair he draped under a blanket for Mother's Day. But there she stood, waiting for me. Looking out across the freshly cut green (cut by the sweetest boy/man I know) I saw the swash of sunshine... and couldn't help but follow its path...

Saturday was glorious, but somehow Sunday crashed down upon it in ways I never expected... and left me scared and unsure of myself. Unanswered questions and a jittering of fear that skittered under my skin... tears that hovered on the very edge of me. With as much control as I could muster... which at times was not very much at all, I continued to breathe in and out. He held me and listened, even when I didn't know what to say... and his quiet was a gift. I could not reach prayer, but it reached me. In hearts and words and steamy chicken noodles. All reminders of grace... all reminders that it is not what I do, but what He does.

Turquoise relaxation. Pink yarn and busy hands.
Air that pulls the breath of me out and somehow exchanges it for Jesus.
The path of sunlight... the path to whole.

Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path.-Psalm 109:115

all around me

2011-09-08T09:50:00.001-04:00

To think you can find God only in a church is as absurd as thinking you can find great works of art only in a gallery. To suppose God is confined beneath a steeple is to suppose drama is confined to the stage, music to the concert hall, or animals to the zoo. -S. Rickly Chritian, Alive

My mind is busy this week... too much, spinning too quickly.
I press upon my heart to slow... to lean on the Creator.
With a word he stopped the seas from churning... and I know He can bring me rest.

out of africa

2011-09-02T05:48:00.001-04:00

The memories come softly, but don't sit still.
They weave themselves throughout my soul again and again, and call out to my heart.
There is no need to shout... even a whisper is enough to awake all of Africa that still lives in me.

It has been a year since we've been and gone.
A year that has been full and beautiful and saturated with who I am now.
There is no doubt within me that I am changed because of where I've been. I can't quite put my finger on it, or assign words to the differences between then and now, I just know that now I am... more. My view of the world is changed for the better and brighter. I have seen joy where I didn't expect it, and the images still dance through my soul.

The rewards of the journey far outweigh the risk of leaving the harbor.
-unknown

the simple of summer

2011-09-01T07:16:00.000-04:00

I said it three times yesterday... I'm ready for summer.
With less that two weeks of school under the belt of this new year, I am weary of finding a routine and figuring it out. Reality tells me there is no hope to paddle my way back to lazy days and nights when bed time forgets that morning comes early... there is work to do.

I seek the sun, and let it shine on my face... eyes closed, remembering the simple of summer.

In summer, the song sings itself.

-William Carlos Williams

linking up to Dayle's Simple Pleasures...

it isn't easy

2011-08-31T09:28:00.000-04:00

Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Proverbs 3:5

I'm open. I'm trusting. It isn't easy.
I'd like to dust off an old magic wand and make the drama vanish, or at least toss a handful of fairy dust up into the sky and cover it with something pretty. But those are my solutions, not His. And this heart knows that His solution is the only one that is perfect. So I lean and I trust. I push me out of the equation and pull in the stillness that He desires. Between the drama and the busyness, it isn't easy. But He never promised it would be...

little summer for the soul

2011-08-29T11:16:00.003-04:00

The weekend may have been back to back empty squares, but none-the-less, it wore me out.
I suppose, to be fair, I was already past exhaustion... because the week was simply too much. When they can't even count on me to be there to sign syllabuses or remember where I put that new planner I picked up, I realize that my volunteer jobs may just be too much. (It is a hard reality and quite catch 22-ish... that though I do it for them, it takes me away from them!)
But the weekend was just us...
Just us and home.
I worked away trying to fix all of the things that didn't quite work last week... like homework space cleared, a place for his computer to charge, and finding the floor of the spare room. But even with all that we accomplished, there was lots that didn't get done... like mopping, the grocery shopping, a shower. The only place we went this weekend was church. Oh, and in that outing we did have to go buy a second planner and replace a lunch box that the zipper flew off of. So much for making that last another year.
Sunday afternoon found me closer to finishing the must-dos... and closer to tears than I really wanted to admit. When I thought I might not be able to accomplsih one more small thing, Eric looked at me and suggested throwing in the towel... and going for a swim. Swimming doesn't appeal to me, but just as I was about to say no, I remembered the pink float...
And so for two hours, I floated.
I let the sun shine down on me and into my soul.
I left my to-dos and my cares for rest. Much needed rest.
And even though school has begun, I closed my eyes and let summer return.

the empty square

2011-08-27T07:58:00.000-04:00

Saturday morning and the house is quiet. Silent. Everyone but me is still wrapped up in sweet dreams, weary from a long week. I can't help but give thanks for this empty square on the calendar... nothing scheduled, no commitments, no place to be but home. And that is just fine... because last night we were just where we wanted to be...

Friday nights just get lovlier from here 'til November.

lost in the banter

2011-08-24T09:37:00.002-04:00

Mornings are, once again, my favorite.
I can hear them from where I lay, bantering back and forth and their voices make me smile... make me want to begin the day. She offers to make him breakfast, he puts a slice of bread in her bento box and laughs about how he has made her lunch. Hot cup of coffee in hand, I resist turning on the TV and the world so I can hear more of their world... I am quiet, but for a good morning... and the magazine in my lap is just a front.
I am totally lost in them.

The living moment is everything. -D.H. Lawrence

linking up with dayle today...

tools for success

2011-08-23T08:50:00.003-04:00

She all but twirled out of her room yesterday morning with a smile on her face... ready to tackle the world.

First day of school... first last day. Senior year. And I really thought she looked the part...

She really does have her own sense of style... but the part I love best?

The smile and that sparkle in her eyes.

And maybe that set of keys dangling from her lanyard.

Yes, she is driving.

Driving was on the list of things we were told would probably not happen... but all of the doctors in the world cannot out-diagnose the power of God. He provided enough sight for her to pass the eye exam at the DMV, and more importantly, He blessed her with the vision to see the beauty in the world... the beauty that is visable to all, and the beauty that resides within. And I just know He has great plans for this girl of ours. Her eyes may not capture every detail but she sees.

And not just with those beautiful blue eyes... but also with the eyes of her heart.

So off we head... seeking the adventures and treasures that senior year is bound to bring.

And along with the keys, we'll bring perseverence and the Grace of God.

and because I can refuse her nothing, I am linking to Richella... a day late.

tumbling time

2011-08-22T06:48:00.003-04:00

He catches me staring at him, but he smiles anyway.
Typically, I'd get a face, but I think he knows where I am these days, my heart tucked in somewhere between unbelief and amazement. That smile sends me off into a kaleidoscope of memory... light and color changing at every turn. While this moment seems the most beautiful, a quick turn reveals another view... and the first is gone.

The past two weeks he has been playing with the big kids... or so it seemed, when I dropped him off at the high school for band camp. As much as I have been waiting for this, it still seemed surreal. But Friday night, on the field, my field of musical, marching dreams, there was only reality. Auntie leaned over and said he doesn't even look little. Nope. He doesn't. He seems to fit right in. All good, all right.

Today is the day of full reality though, with the house bustling before dawn and ringing of the first school bell of the year just minutes away. He is offically a freshman, which makes her a senior. I have been waiting for this for years and now I want this moment to last for... forever. I know better than to put much stock in that wish.

His first day of high school, her last first day...

Another turn, the light fractures and the colors tumble into yet another pattern... still beautiful, but still for just this moment in time.

nineteen things

2011-08-15T09:20:00.184-04:00

We don't even know how it happened. It was just all of a sudden... split.
Sure, the ring has worn some after nineteen years of wearing, but the break in the gold had us both at a loss.
Some might take it as a sign or a warning... but as I spun the gold 'round my own finger I thought about the journey of us. The seasons of plenty and days that have overflowed with love... and the battering of egos and bruised hearts and the miles that sometimes kept us apart. Nineteen years is a long time. Almost half my lifetime so far. This ring is a promise... from me to him. A promise that still makes my heart tingle and my eyes smile. Nothing to do but get the ring fixed.

I have tried to think back to the moment we exchanged rings... and I can almost remember it. After nineteen years I think that it is okay to have faded, blurry photos in my mind. But it makes me realize that there are more moments that I want to always remember... crystal clear.

1. Dancing that last dance with him, in my spectator flats... him singing Beauty & the Beast into my ear... and into my heart.
2. The moment I saw him step off the Coast Guard Cutter after his first trip away... and every military home-coming after that. His arms are home to me.
3. A little bundle of pink balanced in his hands... and the sweetness of his kiss on the top of her head.
4. The stunning saddness we held each other through when we were told our baby girl would not see. And the recovery from that diagnosis... coming around to knowing that we could do this.

5. Our second wedding anniversary, the first we spent together... a babysitter, a green dress, dinner at Top of the Hub and us.

6. His fearless, unwavering decision to move to Florida.

7. The moment we knew our family was complete...

8. Every compromise he has ever made for me. For us.

9. His graduation from college, and then the Police Academy. What he does for our family fills me with an overwhelming sense of gratitude.

10. The laughter that filled the car as we drove from my cat-scan to the ER when my appendix needed to be removed. We seem to mostly choose laughter. (And afterwards, hearing how he almost decked a guy who was giving him a hard time at Cub Scouts the next night, because he was still so worried about me, made me cry.)
11. The night he met Cam on the opposite side of the bridge... as he crossed from being a Cub Scout to a Boy Scout. and how he stands with him still... not to mention the other boys he stands by.
12. How he held me up that Mother's Day when I couldn't stand on my own.
13. Collecting Mickey antenna toppers, loving the Smurfs, bringing our sense of youth into our lives even though we are no longer... young.
14. Being a family of four and all that it entails. Even the crazy days are important in knowing that all you have is all you need.

16. Taking our daughter to the Youth Gathering. Together. And watching father & daughter take the lead... working together.
17. Being in Africa... knowing that while he didn't expect it to change something in him, it did anyway... and he let it.
18. Standing at the edge of God's unfathomable creation and knowing that we are in His hands.

19. This one, right now, today... and all the beautiful ones still to come. He is still the best husband ever.

There are ups and downs, laughter and tears... and a love so strong and true that God weaves through it all.
Happy Anniversary, Eric... I love you. Always.

the gift for me

2011-08-14T06:01:00.003-04:00

It has been ages since we've seen a sunset at the beach, and while each sunset is beautiful, I have been hoping for a sunset with clouds. From home, I watch the sky each evening and the colors dance around the clouds and make them blush pink and glitter gold... and even in the midst of their splendor, I greedily want more. I want the colors and clouds and the setting sun and... the beach.

Friday, it all came together.

We had the car all packed up with a picnic, beach chairs, floats and boogie boards by six... and when Eric walked in the door from work, we only gave him a few minutes to turn back around and get in the car. On the way we chatted and my soul tingled... sunset at the beach! And there were clouds in the sky! And yet, I still wanted more. I hoped the clouds would drift a little more to the left...

When we stepped out onto the sand and took that first deep breath in, we noticed that the surf was up. Gone was the stillness of last week... but what was rolling in its place was fun. Waves that splashed around us and crashed over our floats... and there was a good bit of laughter just floating on the breeze. When we were just about water-logged, our picnic called to our rumbling stomachs and finally, dinner was served.

Watching the sky, I could see the storm brewing... and I could feel the coolness of the rain just beneath the breeze. Oh I did not want to admit defeat, and I held my hopes close to my heart. The clouds... they drifted closer to the left. Just like I wanted. But there, too, was the storm... was it coming or not?

For two hours the rain held off while we played. And as the sun set I watched the sky explode with gold and shimmering blue and orange... kept my eye on the lightning that crackled in the clouds. It was quite a show... and quite a gift. The gift for me. We returned to the car, wrapped in the glory of the sky, and I felt the breeze blow by like the breath of God. I leaned in, took one more deep salty breath and wondered if it was my imagination, or if I had really heard His whisper... Just for you, dear. Just for you.

Thank you... it was the perfect, soul-filling gift.

I actually wrote this last week for Richella's party but never got around to posting. Hop on over and share a moment with her!!

simple pleasures

2011-08-04T07:26:00.000-04:00

The past week has had me back to walking.
The darkest hour may be before dawn, but what comes next is always beautiful. Soft breaking light that filters golden hues through palms and turns fluffy cloud pink. Each day a beautiful show... but today is different.

The breeze of the fan greets me and the air feels almost chilly to my hot, damp skin. The house is quiet and still, unless you count the sound of the finally-satisfied cat munching on her breakfast. The stillness stirs my soul and though a steamy, creamy cup of coffee beckons me to the kitchen, I sit and enjoy the moment. But today is different.

Today is different.
The masterpiece He painted across the sky was brilliant and the quiet morning is still stirring... but today, both are laced with anticipation. Today, I wait for sleepy faces to emerge from behind closed doors. Today I wait for their good morning, Mom mumbled from sleep drenched mouths. Today, after almost five weeks of travel, my kids are right where they ought to be. Home.

It's the simple joys, the simple pleasures the heart remembers and dearly treasures. -Hadin Marshall

I'm linking up with Dayle's Simple Pleasures... come on over and share some simple beauty!

flat calm

2011-08-03T09:07:00.002-04:00

Saturday was a beach day.
Sunshine and sand. A picnic in the cooler. And hours upon hours to do nothing but float...

The calm before the storm of August... and it was lovely.

the truth of ugly and grace...

2011-08-01T10:48:00.001-04:00

For the last two weeks, Richella has commented on a post and asked me to please post this to my Grace Imparted link-party! But this week I am on my own... and I've been searching my mind for that little bit of grace. There has been grace, offered and received... acceptance of office supply hoarding, because I know she comes by it rightly and a day at the beach when I know he'd rather spend the day doing anything but. But somehow I could feel grace lingering in a larger way... and so I sought it. In the seeking, there was finding... but there was also awful truth that is stinging my heart because I know it is just that. Truth.
: :
One of the first places I look for inspiration is Jesus Calling... I gravitate towards it, knowing that His word will be just for me, just right. Today the words that struck my heart were Nothing will ever separate you from me and You are engraved on the palm of my hand. The words move through me and stick like glue. Superglue... glue that once you stick it, it is there to stay. Glue that cannot be un-stuck.

Driving to work, the words were still wandering my heart and I was still searching for the little bit of grace to share. I have come to learn that searching and seeking will often lead to an answer... and there it was. On my radio. The words were so strong and so true that I wanted to hide my face... in shame. I knew it was my answer for today and yet... I did not want to share this ugly truth about me. But I asked, and He answered...

I am the thorn in your crown, but You love me anyway
I am the sweat from Your brow, but You love me anyway

I am the nail in Your wrist, but You love me anyway
I am Judas’ kiss, but You love me anyway

See now, I am the man who yelled out from the crowd for Your blood to be spilled on this earth shaking ground.

With this sin in my heart tried to bury Your grace, and then alone in the night, I still called out for You
So ashamed of my life, my life, my life...

But You love me anyway
Oh, God… how you love me
You love me anyway
It’s like nothing in life that I’ve ever known

Still you call me to walk on the edge of this world
To spread my dreams and fly...
-lyrics from You Love Me Anyway, Sidewalk Prophets

You see... when it got to the part about being the nail in His wrist... it brought me around to how we are really engraved on the palm of His hand. And if I am that nail... then I am all those other things too. Judas' kiss? A betrayer? Me? And a part of the crowd crying Crucify Him? The thorn and the sweat I could handle... but this seems like too much. And yet... I don't really need anyone to tell me where I'd be without the events of Cavalry. And still... He loves me anyway. That is the simple, beautiful truth I need to cover the ugly.
: :
So maybe this is not the little bit of grace I was searching for today... and perhaps it might have been a better start to a Monday if I had splashed beautiful beach photos before your eyes. But I just couldn't.

five minute friday: still

2011-07-29T09:51:00.000-04:00

There is a spinning in my heart that won't let go. My eyes take in the view and study the layers and the crevices and the way the river winds through and... the utter beauty of the whole. And I can't stop long enough to enjoy the picture without letting the words spin... Your Mighty hand created this... surely if You can do this, healing Ann is not beyond your ability. I offer it as words that I must say, but it sounds almost like a challenge. It isn't.
But still... it spins wildly. So I say it one more time.
Out loud. Into the wind. With tears on my face. And then...

I sit.
I let Him take over... as if He wasn't already in control anyway.
But I know He is. Really, I do.
I let the stillness of an early morning sunrise soothe my spinning soul, and I rest.
Right where He wants me.
And I let His word wrap my heart and soul. Be still and know...

I love this five-minute Friday challenge offered by the Gypsy Mama...

and then we were there

2011-07-28T11:29:00.000-04:00

You hear about it all your life... and it sounds so elusive.
For a New England girl it seems the only way to get there would be through photos or a endure a cross-country road trip... and even then, in the imagining, the adventure seems to be the road trip itself. Unless of course, you are travelling further by mule.
But who knew?
Who knew that leaning on that rail with the wind rushing at you would be an adventure all in itself? And who knew, that just by taking in the rocky view before me, that I could travel further... without a mule?
: :

Laura and Cam did take the road trip (with Gran & Grandad)... up through Florida, straight through Alabama, into Tennessee and right up into Missouri. From there they crossed in Oklahoma, Texas and New Mexico before meeting us in Phoenix, Arizona. While I might have felt lucky to fly straight to Arizona, part of me knew I was missing the greatness that dwells along the roadside...

We made the last leg of the journey in style...

Who knew there was a Grand Canyon Railroad? Not me.

Snacks, entertainment and a luxurious, lulling ride through the countryside... and then we were there.

The beauty of the Grand Canyon struck me with awe. I did know it would be grand and far more than I could imagine. And I did know that seeing it in person, with that rushing wind and the the hot sun on my face, would be something that would be pressed into my mind and become a treasured memory. I wondered though, if it would capture my soul...

I think God had something else in store for me though.

Instead of letting the Grand Canyon capture my soul like Africa, He let the Grand Canyon take me on a journey.

And that journey? A story for another day...

a sight to see

2011-07-26T22:00:00.000-04:00

Every turn had me ooo-ing and ahhh-ing.
Cactus. Red rocks. Mountains. Views that stretched on forever.
I loved it all.
I wanted to sear the beauty onto my heart... but the wheels rolled on and on, and taking time to press it in might mean missing the next stunning sight. The landscape kept on changing and I didn't want to miss a bit.

Seeing this part of my own country widens my smile, and my view of the world. Perhaps there are those that have never dipped their toes into the Gulf, or have never had the thrill of riding a wave into shore... but there I was enthralled by red rocks and mountains and a deep blue sky that stretched on forever without a cloud to interupt it. Is one better than the other? My heart says no... but my toes might disagree.

on the way

2011-07-25T07:43:00.000-04:00

I did kiss and hug him first, but there he stood in front of me and I was so curious! So off came the shoes and there we stood in the hall, back to back, waiting for the verdict. It was close, but I still have a sliver of height over him. Not for long though... this I know.

Soon after, my girl emerged from the room and the hugging and kissing started all over again.
Two weeks away from them and it felt like a month.
We all need a break once in a while!

Donuts and chatter, snuggling in, packing up and waiting around in the sunshine. And then... we were on our way to the Grand Canyon, with a stop in Sedona.
Bring on the West!

Today I'm linking this post up to Richella's Imparting Grace party... 'cuz she said so!

home is where there is love

2011-07-21T22:49:00.005-04:00

We are home.
Home, and back to all that is familiar and good, not the least of which is my full-powered hair dryer.
But as I sit, three faces come to mind... the faces of almost-strangers. And I wonder how they are getting by, if they are finding common ground, if they feel a sense of familiarity at all.

His eyes were wide as guided two little children down the aisle, all the while juggling a stained manila envelope, a bag from Burger King and his boarding passes. Looking, checking... and checking again. With almost a look of defeat, and a false sense of certainty in his voice, he guided the little girl to the window seat, past two other passengers. Looking down at the boarding passes once again, he pointed to the two center seats on opposite sides of the aisle. I couldn't help but speak you are all sitting apart? Nodding his head he replied it was a very last minute flight.

With an empty seat in our row (by the Grace of God), and a little swapping around, we had the three of them together. The Dad passed out the chicken nuggets and tried to built excitement about their very first plane trip. Sister and brother sat with wide eyes, excitement shaded with a touch of fear, and maybe just a little hope. Eric leaned over to the little girl, sitting right next to him, and tried to take her chicken, offering a joke and a smile. It was all she needed... this little one, seven going on twelve. She talked his ear off for hours, and told him everything. How her Dad now had custody, and that she didn't really want to go. She shared with him that she had her Mom & Aunt's phone numbers tucked deep in her pocket. She chatted, he listened... and then they played with empty plastic cups and laughed at each other. Three seats over, Dad dozed... perhaps finally feeling like he could let himself rest for a few moments. Turns out that he drove from Maine to Boston the night before, and hopped on a plane to Las Vegas first thing in the morning, and heading back the very same day. All I could think was what love...

Before we landed, those little blue eyes turned to me and she repeated the story. I urged her to think of it as an adventure... to give it a chance. I reminded her that her Daddy really loved her, and the change might be fun. Because what do you really say to make her feel like life might turn out just right after she has left her mother more than half-way across the country?

It was hard to say goodbye. Hard to say goodbye... to strangers.
Harder yet to drive those faces from my mind, so I don't.
I just remember... him standing there as they waited to leave the plane, just saying over and over again Thank God they are coming home. And noontime the next day, I pictured them arriving back in Maine, and racing off the bus into the waiting arms of family that had been waiting their return. And later? I could see a celebration complete with laughter and tears, because while she balanced a cup on her head like a party hat, her Daddy promised her a party.

God bless you, little family of three. You are wrapped in my prayers...

grace imparted

2011-07-18T10:05:00.001-04:00

There is a beautiful soul inside a beautiful woman... and our friendship is a blessing to my heart. Richella & I have never met, but one of these days we will... and when we do there will laughter and tears and grace. I think of us as the Grace Girls. Beyond Grace... Imparting Grace... you get it. Today Richella is jumping out in faith and hosting a linky party... Grace Imparted. Has there been a moment when the world seemed so big and dark and then the Light poured in and your heart felt safe again? Or have you been smack dab in the middle of an ordinary day and happened across a beautiful moment that made your soul sing? If you are willing to share click on over to Richella's beautiful corner of the internet... I promise that you will feel welcome, and to feel her smile through her words is a bit of grace itself.

I think I'll be sharing this post, even though it is almost a year old, this week since I am still far away...

advice from a canyon

2011-07-16T09:35:00.000-04:00

Carve out a place for yourself. Aspire to new plateaus.

Stand the test of time. Don't get boxed in.

Listen to the voice of the wind. It is OK to be a little off the wall.

Reach deep!

and all at once i am on vacation

2011-07-13T11:25:00.000-04:00

Phoenix captured my heart before we even cleared the security ramp.
The sight of an old biplane hovering beneath a stained glass sky had my mind juggling for the camera I knew was buried too deep. My feet danced at the sight of bedazzled sombreros behind the locked doors of the gift shop and continued to skip all the way down to baggage claim. I longed to see the city beyond the dark of night but instead satisfied my eyes with the glittering lights.

I finally gave up all efforts to sleep around 5am. Five o'clock plus three hours is longer than this body was designed to rest, and if it hadn't been for one of the most comfortable beds ever, I might not have even lasted that long. Though not fully rested I was anxious to get out... and with daylight sneaking in through the drapes I knew the day was beginning without me.

Blue sky, real grass, and touches of the real west. I am already in love and it is only 8am.
I still wear Africa around my neck, and am still in love as ever. But I have always wanted to see this country. My country. And here I am.

on the way

2011-07-12T21:20:00.000-04:00

I look out into the great wide sky and there are clouds forever. The sun glints just below the wing and I happen to notice it is shining on the ripples of the Gulf far, far, far below us. It is beautiful... and a thousand words spring to mind. For a moment, I enjoy the journey, but mostly I just want to be there already. It feels greedy and ugly, and just a little desperate, but honest nonetheless. And so I leave the camera stashed in the bag and refuse to document the blink of beauty.

It feels... ridiculous.
By the time we really arrive it will be half-way to morning and the ones I want to wrap my arms around will be fast asleep. But oh, the big adventure will be that much closer.

So here we sit... waiting for the next long flight.
I order an ice cream and the coconutty creaminess starts seeping in and reeling the vacation feelings just a bit closer. Ah yes, I believe there is magic in ice cream. Gradually I can fall into it... the beauty of vacation. Whether I am here or there, or somewhere in between. I want to enjoy the journey. I want to grasp it and love it and laugh along with it.

I'm trying...

happy birthday beautiful america...

2011-07-04T06:50:00.001-04:00

The American flag does not fly because the wind moves past it. The American flag flies from the last breath of each military member who has died protecting it. American soldiers don't fight because they hate what's in front of them...they fight because they love what's behind them.

-quote found through a friend who prays for her soldier every day.

low key

2011-07-01T06:44:00.000-04:00

She drives, I drive.

I drop her at the barn, we work, and I return to pick her up.

The boys are away at camp, but it is not really a week of play.

We still find fun though... chatting, laughing, watching tv, cooking together.

The rain has kept us from our only real plan of the week... a sunset picnic at the beach.

But there is still tonight, still a chance.

It would be just the way to close this beautiful, busy, low key week.

And if the rain pours down?

More tea... and another hand of Bananagrams.

always blue

2011-06-29T10:08:00.001-04:00

It has always been blue for me.
Unwavering. Unrelenting.
Dark blue carpet and blue gingham curtains that matched the blue gingham canopy I used to dream under.
Sky blue walls and blue & white striped cushions, and even a valance that hung over our first very-own kitchen sink.
His deep blue eyes, and hers.

Pink once tried to woo me, but I couldn't fully commit.
And while I might brake for magenta, it is always blue that captures my full soul. Especially when it is dotted with wispy white or pelicans...

Or slashed with a navy stripe and blended with shades of aqua.

It is here that blue takes my breath away and stops the world from spinning.
It is here, that against the blue, the sandpipers scurry along the shoreline and chase the worries away.
It is here... in the blue.

dark & ugly and what covers it

2011-06-28T09:28:00.000-04:00

I knew my guests would begin to arrive any moment, and I was ready, except maybe I had time to make just one or two more flowers. So there I sat, on the floor with legs stretched way far out, fluffing bright tissue paper flowers. Just the day before, even an hour before, the colors had me smiling... but somehow, just sitting there, my heart began sinking. I felt ugly from the inside out. Not just not happy, but honest to goodness dark and ugly... and all I could do was dwell in it, be consumed by it. And then... the doorbell rang. Camden rushed in and answered it, greeting Gramma with a hug and a shout. I shoved the striped paper back into the bag and stashed the ribbons and rose to greet my Mom. I'd like to say that I'm a good disguiser, but I'm not. And even if I were, she would have known... but I tried to play it off anyway. I ended up in her arms, a few tears spilled and it seemed just enough to let the sunshine back in.

Just a week or so later, I snapped at Eric and we kind of had it out in our friend's driveway. When I said it's not you it is me I really meant it... but admittedly it sounded like an awful excuse. He urges me to talk to him and I just can't... knowing that I am still processing and praying and there is no fix. I wanted to smile when he told me he wanted to fix it, but the smile couldn't work its way out of my heart all the way up to my face. But I know he does want to fix it... and I wish he could. But there in the driveway, I realized that I am not the same girl I was three years ago... before blog. This blog has changed me... the writing has changed me. But somehow, she (the me of before) was working her way back in.

But through all of this deep dark ugly and the snapping, I have learned that there is a process for this new me... I feel, I think, I write, I let it go.
The old me? Feel, dwell, dwell, dwell, dwell, fight it off, dwell some more, and finally have a release of tears before I could let it go.

Since April, the old me has begun to intrude once again.
The words would not come, and I wondered if they were gone.
But the new me thinks in words, and even in the ugly, beautiful phrases would slip in and whisper to my heart. But the ugly has no mercy and blocks the way from heart to paper.

The ugly?
I think it is the cancer that Ann and Carol, and million others, battle.
But God broke through when I couldn't, and He held back the raging sea so that I could pass back to where I am the better me. He gave me these words... and I can feel the others just floating on the tide...

more than just walls

2011-06-27T08:55:00.001-04:00

It has been many weeks since our little groups of teens sat and discussed the Creation story, but the dicussion is still fresh in my mind. Each of us in turn shared something that struck them about the verses. Most mentioned the fact that God created it all... but Cam took it a step further and what spoke to his heart the most was that once God created it all, He thought it was good. It was one of those moments when a parent's heart feels full and deep down think they get it.

: :

This Sunday we blessed our new church building.

Giant key, ribbon cutting, special guests... the whole big deal. And it was good.

Though it was the second Sunday of worship in the new building, this was the Sunday that filled me. Last Sunday seemed full of logistics and we-could-do-this-betters and oh-we-still-really-need-to-haves... and it left me cold. But I chalked it up to it being trial run, a dress rehearsal.

This Sunday was all that last Sunday was not. Beautiful, Spirit-filled, joyful... warm. A celebration. A celebration of hard work, prayer, family and most of all, Jesus. As we sang Better is one day in your courts than thousands elsewhere; Your spirit is water to my soul, I felt the words and the life of the song all the way through my soul. And that water, the living water? It leaked right out my eyes and rolled down my face.

: :

Cam is already at Boy Scout camp, and so he missed out on the church blessing... but it was him I thought of when two representatives from our church synod stood by the altar, looked out at our church body and said It is good. Very good.

a bit of peace revealed

2011-06-21T09:40:00.000-04:00

She looked me straight in the eye and said all I know is that this is not about me, it is all about Him. I could only stare back, amazed at a faith so big, and amazed again at the woman who possessed it. Our conversation continued, and I was thankful for it… but it wasn’t until much later when I fully began to process it.

I’ve been fortunate in this life, that until now, I have not had to think too hard or too much about a cancer journey. Of course now, as I rally for my dear friend, it is never far from my heart. But never have I really ever considered it to be about anything other that survival… or not. Certainly it never once crossed my mind that it could be about God. That leap is almost too much for this mind to comprehend.

But lately?
He is revealing to me… the ways the journey through cancer can be, in fact, about Him.

I see Him in a daughter’s peace over her mother’s battle. In the way she gathers strength from her mother’s peace, perhaps not quite realizing that the peace comes directly though the Father, Himself.

I see Him in her grace-filled life… the way she shows me how to really live. The way she show me how to live with cancer, instead of just hanging on, or giving up.

I see Him in the reaching out of community. Love in action and in the offerings.

And I begin to see Him making the changes in my very own heart. He is making a way for my own peace… though I kick and scream and drag my heart away from it, time after time. He is teaching me that when the bad rolls in He can find a way to shine through it... and if I find myself succumbing to the whys, He points me to this verse {"It was not because of his sins or his parents’ sins,” Jesus answered. “This happened so the power of God could be seen in him. John 9:3} again and again. He is promising me He will say yes to my endless prayers for healing… but reminds me that the healing may not be here on earth as I desire it to be. He holds my hand as I take the baby steps to understanding, and He holds my heart every time I stop in the path and cry a river of tears.

Yes, maybe a journey though cancer can be about Him. And just maybe… it needs to be.

And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them. Romans 8:28

turning page after page

2011-06-16T06:06:00.011-04:00

I'm bouncing back and forth between two stories... and I've never been good at reading two books at the same time. Technically... I'm not reading two. One is on CD keeping me company on the way to and from work and the other has good old-fashioned pages. Eric keeps asking are you done yet? Both were due back at the library yesterday.... and it seems that when he is "off duty" from real police work, he takes on the role of the library police.

I tease him about it, relentlessly... but truly, I love that we are a reading family. All four of us.
: :
I feel like I have always loved books... always. The stories, the pages... the adventure. Oh how I longed to ride over the prairie in a covered wagon, or solve mysteries with Nancy Drew, and I will never stop laughing over the messes that Amelia Bedilia gets herself into. Never! I can still picture the elementary school library, and racing (without running) to the corner where the Amelia Bedilia books would be... and if, of course, there were any left on the shelf, my smile would be a mile wide.

When I first met Eric, he was not a reader. But somewhere along the way to falling in love with me, he also fell in love with books. Maybe it was the time he spent in the tiny book shop on the main street of my little town, or maybe it was the late nights keeping watch over the harbor, trying desperately to stay awake for his shift... whatever the motivation, his love for reading has been an example for our kids.

Laura was a couple of months into kindergarten, I bought her a couple of little first reader books. The cat sat on a mat kind of books, hoping that we would read them together, and that she would eventually learn. But she took the two books, sat right down and amazed me by reading them from cover to cover. Every word. And I'm not sure she has ever stopped...

And Cam? Oh Cam...
I would swear that he loved books from the first time he ever held one. Love, loved, loved. He would turn page after page, and his eyes would pour over the pictures... and sometimes we wondered if he was following the words. I remember one day I had to bring him along to a class I was holding... and he sat in the corner with baskets and baskets of books and entertained himself for over two hours. I will always be thankful for that love that was planted in his heart. It had to be that love that kept him going when the words seemed all jumbled up to him and his classmates were moving onto chapter books. I will never forget the day it all clicked for him. Never. I was driving through Washington DC, and he was in the backety-back seat of the van with a lap full of Garfield comic books... and all of a sudden, there was a burst of heartfelt laughter! I asked him what he was laughing at and he replied I'm reading! So there he was, reading at last, and there I was, crying in the traffic. Garfield? I will always love you.

: :
I press on with my two stories... hoping that I can get through them before he asks again are you done yet?
I'm thinking that I might have to come up with the money to cover the fines.

the why

2011-06-15T06:55:00.001-04:00

I pause as I fasten bright silver about my neck. Why?
Why do I choose this charm to suspend from the chain today?

I think about sitting across the table from a friend at lunch and my mind wonders what she thinks when she sees it. What if she should ask why? The devil himself seems to slip into my thought process and brings to mind words typed out in a rampant email from long ago Why would Jesus want that reminder of how he died hanging on your neck? I push him away. Far away, where he belongs.

Why indeed?
Oh, I don't wonder. I know.
So I continue with the clasping and then peer into the mirror and admire God's work.

The gleaming silver that stretches up to heaven and out to me, hangs empty. Jesus is no longer there, suffering the sin of the world, the sin of me. He is alive. God's most perfect gift, for you and for me. And when my fingers reach for it and slide it back and forth on the chain, I remember. I remember what He has done for me, and that the doing is complete. I remember that I am wonderfully made. I remember that in Him, I am enough.

I whisper a soft thank you... and move on with my day.

{virtual coffee} 17

2011-06-14T09:59:00.004-04:00

Today it doesn't matter what is in my cup.

I am gulping it down, urging the sweet and the heat to wake me, to pull the weight from my eyelids.

Where did this weary come from?

I'm sure that I could carve out time to meet for coffee today... summer is here {hooray!} and the schedule is more flexible. There is not so much rushrushrush in the morning. And the afternoons are whatever we make them. The sun stretches out into evening and the longer it dances in the trees, the wider my smile becomes. Oh, I love that speckled light!

So if we were really meeting for coffee, I might spill my driving woes on you... well, not my driving- my daughter's. She is perhaps the only teenager who despises driving! But she took driver's ed two summers ago, and she passed the driving test- but still no desire to actually go and get her license! But we have decided, it is time. We have three weeks to review in crash-course (eek!) style, so it has been the goal for her to drive everyday. She is actually doing well, and I think she has no reason to actually despise it. So why now? I keep thinking how wonderful it will be if, come fall, she can be the one to drive she & her brother the mile and a half to and from school and band practice.

And why the three weeks?

This is feeling like the one stress of my summer- that the time with my kiddos will be too short!

Camden (and Eric) leave for Boy Scout camp on June 25th. Laura will leave the following Friday, with Eric's parents, to pick up Camden and head out for their summer adventure with Gran & Grandad. I'm pretty certain they will be gone at least a full month, and when they return, there will be one week of summer before band camp begins. I have to keep reminding myself that Eric & I are flying out {for one week} to join the adventure in mid-July...

So in the mean time, we will squeeze out as much summer fun as we can stand, working it in around my work, Eric's work and Laura's work/volunteering at the equestrian challenge center.

backwards

2011-06-10T09:00:00.000-04:00

As excited as I am to move towards this next school year, the milestone of the last day of school has me pedalling backwards. Back to the first day of school, back to when they were little and school was a place I was looking forward to sending them to. Oh a million years have passed since then... and each has been a learning experience. In the moment, and in hindsight. The lessons learned are not just for the students... this Mama has learned her own fair share. Most importantly... how to let them make their own mistakes, so that their successes really belong to them, and... sigh... how to let go. Looking back and recalling the struggles and the overcoming and the successes helps me to step out again in faith. Thankfulness abounds... because here we go again. This next level of letting go is going to be a doozy.

stuck for good

2011-06-09T07:52:00.003-04:00

I was just getting out of the car when the UPS man was walking up the driveway. He pointed to the back of my car and said That's far. I couldn't help but smile and nod... and ask Have you been? He shook his head and told me that he only knew it was far and went on to say that he's never seen one other bumper sticker like it.

I'm not really a bumper-sticker kind of girl, but when I saw this one, I had to have it. Everytime I see it on my car I smile, and feel a rush of love through my soul. It has been almost a year since Africa... but time cannot steal away the memories of the journey or the ever-present desire to return.

I am not the same, having seen the moon shine on the other side of the world.
-Mary Anne Radmacher

2011-06-08T10:50:00.000-04:00

A home without books is like a body without a soul.

-Marcus Tullius Cicero

he keeps on shining

2011-06-07T10:34:00.002-04:00

For hours afterwards my insides were revved up and my heart flip-flopped back and forth between disbelief and utter joy. After a length of silence between us I would burst out again with other tidbit of excitement or share a random wonderful thought that had suddenly made its way into my stream of consciousness... and for the first twelve times, he smiled brightly. I could tell then... that enough was enough. At least for him. But I could have gone on another thirty times. Oh how thankful I was that when we picked up Eric and Laura from the airport I could start the gushing all over again...

: :

I had hoped it would be a special night for Cam... I knew he would get an award for his grade point average, and because he was honored with a science award last year, I hoped for at least one more award. But deep down, like only a mother can... I wanted more for him. I kept thinking that he deserves one of those really cool awards that encompasses his grades and the nice, hard-working young man he is. Yes, I know I am biased, as every mom is... but Cam has just blown me away this year with his straight A's and his work ethic. And more than anything, I have been so pleased that he has been able to see the successes. For so many years he worked and worked and worked... and I wondered when the frustration would set in, wondered if one day he would just say the heck with all this school work and give up. We fought for him, we prayed for him... and victory finally came in the form of test results and an IEP. No one wants their child to need the extra help at school... but when you know your child needs the help and your concerns are brushed aside for years, validation is victory and the extra help is a blessing.

When his name was called for a Science Pride award, I cheered. And then when he made his way to the stage for a Five Star Math award I mentally checked off the list in my mind- special night? Check. With the award for his grades that will make three... and three awards? Amazing. I was whispering to my friend when they described the next award and so when they called his name again, I had no idea what he was receiving... but there he was striding across the stage, shaking hands with the teachers. By the time he had received two awards for his grade point average I was beaming and my heart was fully content. Five awards rested under his seat and I was thrilled for him. It has been a banner year, a truly wonderful middle school experience, and to cap it off with a night like this was truly more than I had hoped for.

But God wasn't quite finished showing off.

It was the very last award of the night... the Principal's Award. One girl and one boy are chosen from among teacher nominations for this highest honor. I was really only half listening, so excited about an award my friend's daughter has just received... but then I heard his name, and I saw him pop out of his seat and return to the stage again. And all at once I was laughing and crying and cheering... fumbling with my camera, which was all but put away in my purse, and just beaming.

Making our way out of the auditorium, in a crush of congratulations, my heart and mind were spinning. We caught two teachers for quick photos and big thank yous... and many friends and parents we have known along the way stopped to shake Cam's hand. It might as well be the Pulitzer Prize there under his arm. Oh yes, my heart feels that big...

Never doubt the power of God, who can do all things. All things. He places loving teachers in the path, and issues challenges that seem impossible... but then He instills the tools to overcome. He creates a desire for learning and an excitement that is contagious, so that the stumbling blocks only trip you up instead of making you want to give up. And in the love that grows in a mother's heart, God adds a fierceness that He knows will be used to fight the good fight...

and He tosses in a sense of humor so that when she realizes that he wore white socks with his black dress pants and shoes there will be only gales of laughter.

the slivers

2011-06-06T11:17:00.000-04:00

these are magic years...
and therefore magic days...
and therefore magic moments.
-anonymous

I had been really looking forward to sharing this past weekend with my family. Graduation parties and birthday parties, time with friends... and it was Eric's weekend off. It doesn't usually happen that way. And of course, even though we were counting on celebrating so much together this weekend, it didn't happen. But it was okay. Eric and Laura were where they needed to be... and Camden & I went on with the plans, tossing in our own little twists here and there.

There is something just so special about time spent together, with just one... whether it be him, or her. And when these slivers of time come 'round, I recognize them for what they are... precious gifts, molten love, sweet memories in the making. So I let the rest of the world wait in line, and I slow the race of life that seems to chase endlessly after ever bit of energy I can spare... and I marvel at the smallest things. The way he sits up straighter to avoid the glaring sunshine, our matching cravings for Italian ice and tacos. The way his hands are no longer small and his legs no longer those of a little boy. He comes around the corner and asks if there is anything I want help with and we work together in the kitchen side by side, completing the job in half the time. He picks up my dropped keys and jokes that he'll just drive. Oh, not much longer and he will.

The days of little are far behind us. They held their own magic, and their own sorrows. But the growing doesn't stop and neither does the marvelous. When he was six months old, that was my favorite age. And when he was eight, that was my favorite age. And now, at fourteen and a half... I feel it again, as I seem to every year.
Oh, this is my favorite age.

everyday

2011-06-03T08:38:00.001-04:00

Hello, morning sunshine.
It is not often the first thing my eyes see... I am more accustomed to shadows and starlight.
But oh, how I love the soft morning light. The way it dances on the wall. The way it sends one glittering ray through the blue glass candy dish atop the pie safe, trying to trick me into believing the dish contains the light itself.

Today I am out of routine... with half my family across the county.
Laura & Eric flew to Dallas last night to lend their hearts to our grieveing cousin (friend!) and her girls who lost their Papa Wednesday night. Life is fragile... and we forget. We go on with our everyday stuff... schedule, laundry, food and love... and wonder why. How. Yesterday these things seemed ordinary but today... they seem to have such purpose.

In the night of death, hope sees a star.
And listening... love can hear the rustle of a wing.
-Robert Ingersoll

in the balance...

2011-06-02T09:04:00.001-04:00

I try not to lean too far to one side... or spin too quickly to the other. Even one degree of movement seems precarious. The air feels electric and fragile... and to venture too far from this one little spot might be its very undoing.

Or mine.

As I stand, I know... that life hangs in the balance.
Heartbeats and breath and the unknown... balanced on the edge of living.
Hanging on, fighting. Waiting.
The air around me seems to close in just little more as I seek the beautiful words of prayer.

Lashes flutter down, and in my own created darkness, I can push the air away without it shattering and I seek their faces in my heart. My soul begins...

Father God, precious Jesus...
Oh... Lord....

Oh Lord...

The beautiful words... they will not come.
Only a moment of desperation passes before He provides me with the familiar rhythm of the prayer I know best, and I am thankful.

Our Father, which art in heaven,

hallowed be thy name.

Thy Kingdom come,

thy will be done,

in earth as it is in heaven

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our trespasses,

as we forgive them that trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation,

but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory,

for ever and ever.

I know that if I repeat them over and over, and then over again...
He will know my heart and the peace it longs for...

{virtual coffee} 16

2011-05-31T09:45:00.000-04:00

Today it is vanilla with a splash of gingerbread.
I'm down to the last bottle in my holiday hoarded stash, and I'm trying to use it sparingly... so just a splash is good.

Eyes are open and I'm searching... for the even keel. May is hanging on by a thread, and yet the crazy has thrown its line over to June and seems content to just hang on. But just eight days left of school... and maybe we'll cut that crazy and let it spin off into the wind. It isn't like me... to wish the time away. I'd rather savor the moments and stretch them out. If only it weren't for the crazy...

If we were really meeting for coffee today, I hope it would be somewhere outside... where the sun is shining and the breeze is cool. And if there was sand or surf involved, you wouldn't hear me complaining! Mostly though, I'd just be happy to see your smiling face and catch up. I've been out of the loop... both loops- writing and reading. Slowly but surely, I am finding my way back.

Was your weekend wonderful?
Our was mostly uneventful, but still very nice. Eric was working, picked up an extra shift... and I spent the time laying low and crafting away (graduation gifts, teacher gifts... just for fun stuff.) My body has been telling me to slow down... on top of the crazy, I have had two allergic reactions to my allergy shots. One episode of my throat closing up and one of burning skin. Both have left me slightly shaken and certainly short of breath... but I am still going ahead, hoping that these shots really will be the end of my winter bronchitis bouts! We did manage to make time to visit with friends over the weekend... burgers on the grill, corn on the cob and all the other delights that promise summer is coming!

OH! and I almost forgot the band awards ceremony and dance on Friday night (that seems so long ago!)

She had as much fun as she allowed herself... I believe she said she was "unsocially-social" which apparently means no dancing. But she looked beautiful and her eyes sparkled when she showed me the 2012 pin she'll tack onto her band letter. 2012... oh that is but a breath away...

I hope your Tuesday doesn't feel too much like a Monday... and that the week bops along at just-the-right-speed.
Thank you for the coffee visit... I think my heart truly needed it.

be open

2011-05-26T04:47:00.005-04:00

Our church building is becoming more magificent by the day... and as I watch it grow, my dreams grow alongside it. And to walk through the Early Learning Center, that will be our mission, is to feel and know that God has so many more dreams to nourish. Though the rooms are empty and the walls are blank, I can imagine the children who will laugh there... who will learn there... who will press their hands along the walls and mark it as Jesus has marked my own heart with His hands. For a flash, I wish my kids were actually little again... but then the warm memories of their own preschool flood over me and I know that the Holy Spirit dwelled in that space, too. And finding that space? Oh... it was surely a gift straight from the Maker.
Laura was signed up for a different pre-school. All dressed up for the big first day, smile wide with nervous excitement and hands grasping a yellow beanie cat for courage, we arrived... and the doors were locked up, with no one in sight. I never did find out what happened. Home again, with plans dashed and one disappointed little girl, we started scouring the phone book... and of course, anywhere that we called was full with a waiting list. There I sat, on the nubby green carpet with the yellow pages spread out before me... discouraged and as disappointed as she. And then... this little memory of a little girl at a swim lesson snuck into my head. She was signed up for preschool... and I seemed to recall her Mom saying there were only four kids in her class. Four. Certainly not full. Fingers flew through the pages urging my brain to recall the name of that church... and finally, there it was. I called... and was invited to head right over for a look. I met Miss Sherry, and the rest was history. Beautiful history, spanning two years each for my children and my nephew, one down and one to go for my niece... and all of the years in between. A place to grow.And that little girl from swim class? Charlotte. Best friend of 14 years.

Divine?

I don't doubt it for a moment.

It seems to be what he does best, if we let Him.

Beauty from ashes, success after many trials, trading joy for sorrow.

Preschool learning is not just for the littles. I am living proof. From renewing my faith and beginning me on a true relationship with my Savior to simply being open to possibilities other than my own plans... the rewards and lessons are endless at an age, at every age.

Be open.

He has wonderful plans to carry out and dreams to nourish... some we haven't even thought to dream yet.

beauty seeker

2011-05-24T07:07:00.002-04:00

Stand still and consider the wondrous works of God. Job 37:14

How often do you simply stop and breathe His wonder into your soul?
The answers in my house would certainly vary… from hardly ever to at least eight times a day. You probably know without me even saying... that I would the be the eight. I can’t help myself. It begins in the darkest hour, as I head out for my walk. The stars are shining down, giving one last twinkle before the sun rises, and I cannot help but stop at the end of the road and just look up and marvel at their light. And if it is the right time of year, when I step out for that same walk, I am enveloped in Jesus air… the sweet heady scent of orange blossoms that I cannot describe as anything but His breath. My friend laughs as I drink it in and let it wrap around my senses. She knows how much it moves me. I couldn’t escape its fullness if I tried.

Not too many nights ago, I simply stood in trail of the setting sun. The light skipped across the gentle waves and made a path across the sea. The water swished around my ankles and there was nothing in my mind except awe and wonder. I stood there... and worshipped the the One who painted the sky, the One who taught the birds to fly, the One who showers my life with beauty.

But it is not just in nature that I find the wonder... it is in the long lashes that scoop out from his (no longer) little boy eyes. I find it in the sound of her laughter. I experience it when he leans down and kisses my lips. And I stop... and quickly catalog the fleeting moment, filing it away with millions of other lovely breaths.

I don't know why He fills the earth with such glory. I can't imagine how much more heaven will be if this is what He lays before us now. But I know to savor these brief treasures... to take the time to be still and thank Him for the beauty.

The others around me... they may scoff at my delight and they might sigh and speak under their breath that she can't look at the sky once without exclaiming. But I cannot stop my eyes from connecting with my heart. I cannot let the lovely pass me by. And so I add to the list of who I am... beauty seeker, one who sets her eyes on gifts from above.

...originally guest-posted by me at Sharon's Hiking Toward Home.

it has all but begun...

2011-05-23T06:24:00.002-04:00

Beautiful mail has been arriving in my mailbox.

Beautiful mail, announcing a huge milestone. And these lovely girls, celebrating the end of high school and their next steps out into the great wide world, are each just six months older than my girl, my Laura. I stare in wonder, and I know that these cards means the end of the road for my denial. Here we are, on the verge of Senior year, and I can no longer not think ab out it, no longer pretend it is not coming. Especially when a senior photo was taken and chosen for the Class of 2012 yearbook this week. Especially when she comes home chattering away that during the pep rally Friday the Seniors paraded out and the Juniors made their way over to the Senior seats in the gym. Yes, this last year of high school is all but here. Too few weeks of summer, and the end begins.

I watch her and wonder if she is ready. If I have done my job. If I have provided her with the experiences and confidence and love that she will need to build her own life. The neighbor raves on and on about how she has grown up... how speaking with her is like speaking to a grown up. My eyes tell their own story, and yet she persists. I don't quite see it for myself, but maybe I just won't allow it. Her thin, blond, wispy hair floating around her wide-eyed little girl face is often all my heart can see. She'll always be my little girl, won't she?

If I'm honest, I know the answer is no. And if I'm a little bit more honest, I know the answer is I don't want her to be. I want her to be... herself. I want her to grow beyond my dreams for her. I want her to grasp the very part of this great wide world that God has chosen for her. So when the worry inches in... I take that deep breath in ... and I remember these words and ask them to imprint themselves on my heart...

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." -Jeremiah 29:11

She is already her own shade of beautiful.

She has been blessed with such a beautful heart.

Jesus has woven Himself through that heart, and through her soul... and I can't really ask for more than that. And so I rest in his plans... the ones for her future. The future he has designed for her.

No... she won't always be my little girl... but she will always be my girl.

moments on another mountain

2011-05-22T07:11:00.000-04:00

It would come to me at different times during the week... the reminder that we were going to the concert Friday night. Just remembering brought a smile to my face, and a dollop of hope to my heart. I just knew there would be something just for me at that concert. Something God knew I needed. Something I was having trouble finding on my own. On my own... looking back, perhaps there was the problem right there.

I love a Christian rock concert. I love the hand clapping, I love the singing and the shouting of Amens, I love the dancing-in-my-own-little-space, I love the freedom to throw up my hands and praise the King when the Spirit moves something in me to do it. And I love that for one sliver of time, He brings me to the mountain-top to praise... with scripture flowing and lyrics reverberating through the arena. All God-breathed. All for me. And when the disco ball dropped from the ceiling, a flash of too much? travels through... but just a flash, because before the thought is even complete, you are surrounded by stars. A million points of light, moving in the darkness... and thousands of hands lifted in praise, singing... Holy, You are Holy...

I love a Christian rock concert.

So did I find what I was looking for? On no. It was better than that. He found me in that place, and released whatever it was that I had set in place to block His Light. He reminded me that I need not wait until I get my junk together... or figure out whatever was the cause of my distance was. Mike from Tenth Avenue North spoke such beautiful words to the crowd... the reminder that our Savior is so beautifully backward from the world. Come thirsty. Come dirty. Come broken. Come as you are... just come.

This is not about what you've done, but what's been done for you.
This is not about where you've been, but it where your brokenness leads you to.
This is not about what you feel, But what He felt to forgive you, And what He felt to make you loved.
-You Are More by Tenth Avenue North

And with heart and palms open, raised to the King... my voice sang and my heart felt free. Free...

in the midst of may

2011-05-18T07:07:00.001-04:00

Yes, it is a little blurry... but his fingers were flying throough Linus & Lucy.

Her concert, his recital, and now his concert. All behind us. Memories, instead of items on the to-do list. They seem more beautiful that way. May is quickly sliding away. A breath of cool March air zips by, which is a complete and utter gift, and I feel a sense of accomplishment... even though I have done nothing but make it half-way through the frenzy that this month always delivers. But making it half-way through without feeling trampled and weary is good, and to have something left to pull us through the rest is quite a bit better. There is so much to squeeze into this last month of school... so much that it always seems to leave a winding-up feeling rather than a winding down...

I am looking forward to summer. In my mind's eye I picture it bright and dappled in sunlight... full of chatter and laughter, all memories in the making. Part of me wants to rush ahead to it... but the sense in me stands firm and offers encouragement to enjoy each day as it comes. There is still much joy to be found in May. So much.

gifts from the sea

2011-05-16T13:46:00.001-04:00

I watched the sky as I made my way to her. Rain? Probably.
My mind reeled, considering the options, but knowing this walk was not to be cancelled or postponed- whether it happened along the shoreline, or through the mall.
As I pulled into the parking lot, I spotted her lime bug right away… and a smile rose up into my heart. I tumbled out of my own car and into her arms, and there we shared a good morning, a Happy Mother’s Day, and an I love you. Even with a dark cloud looming to the north, we decided it was worth the chance, and headed off to the boardwalk, towards the beach… already deep into conversation. Shoes were left in the sand and the cares of the world beside them. With the waves splashing around our feet, there was time… to talk, share, and laugh, with only the distractions of the shore birds and an occasional heart-shaped gift from the sea.

I need this.

I need this time… without the worries of fairness and balance and hurt feelings. Because while the mother and daughter of us will always be, there is something more than just that between us. We learn from each other. We share a friendship that collects tidbits of news to share, and moments of I-can’t-wait-to-tell-her. I have learned that I can spill my heart to her, and she will pool up the puddles of my tears and help me make sense of it. There is an excitement about being together that can overshadow a get-together that includes others. So this time… it teaches me something else: sometimes the opportunity to be selfish is actually a gift. Even if the rain pours down around you, soaking you to the skin.

176. trees! on the church property
177. deer on the hill. No matter how many times I see them, I can't help but count them again.
178. soft powdery sand surrounding my feet
179. the joy that fluffy tissue paper flowers bring to my eyes!
180. fiesta salad
181. the cool breeze that meets me for my morning walk... I'm amazed it lingers into May
182. thinking, planning... ahead of the game.
183. how God places me just where He needs me to be
184. watching "my boys" play frisbee in the surf... no match for the wind!
185. the crest of the wave
186. the hug that came out of nowhere...
187. laughter carrying over the crash of the sea
188. time... to draw out my soul
189. being amazed at they way my kids know me...
190. pages flapping in the breeze... and having to catch them in order to write
191. being a mom
192. long term plans... just when my hope beings to wane she announces some crazy plan for a year down the road, and no matter what, it is beautiful in that she hopes.

193. having a friend to decipher with
194. the perfect birthday gift for him!

195. Linus & Lucy... played loud & stong, and with confidence
196. seeing money in his Dad's birthday card, he exclaimed- you're rich!

197. and what happened next... with his arm around his son he replied... yes. Yes, I am rich.

198. and then... Dad. Tomorrow. Me. You. Game-Stop!

199. making someone happy, just by taking a few pictures.

200. writing it down... at last.

i might write

2011-05-11T15:15:00.000-04:00

I set myself up for failure... again and again.

I become satisfied... I think, this is it.

And then I stop....

and I don't know why.

Three years ago, on Aprill 11th, I started this blog.

I never believed I was a writer. I never thought I would have this much to say. I never imagined I'd keep something up for one year, let alone three. I amazed myself... and maybe one or two others. And now... I'm stuck. But stuck with thoughts rambling around in my head, trying to make some sense of themselves. Trying to be free...

I scribble down notes, so I won't forget...
visit with Jenn
spilled tears

prayer changes me

expert on motherhood?

gifts from the sea

islands of adventure

and... maybe, one day soon, I just might write.

happy cinco de mayo!

2011-05-05T18:00:00.000-04:00

You didn't think I would forget, did you?!

on eagles wings

2011-05-04T05:44:00.000-04:00

When he answered the question, with those two little words, my heart swelled, and then couldn't help but reel on into the future and think about the next time he might say them at the altar. I do. But as quickly as I left, I returned to the moment at hand. Yes, I believe in Jesus Christ...

After two years of Confirmation classes and a lifetime of Jesus in his heart, Camden is now officially confirmed. Confirmed in Christ. Signed, sealed... with a promise to be delivered into heaven when Jesus comes back. And again, my mind flutters off... this time, to the past, and the wide eyed little boy that spoke with such excitement Mom, Jesus is going to come back someday!

The service on Sunday was very personal, being that Camden was the only one being confirmed. He sat front and center, and Pastor spoke to him and drew him into the sermon, reminding him of the things that have been promised to us, and the promises that we make to God as we take His body and blood. From across the row, he looked so tall and so grown, and so independent. Making his decision for his own life... embracing what the Holy Spirit set in his heart.

And with his life safely in the palm of God's mighty hand, we sang Eagle's Wings. The perfect hymn to go along with his life verse (Isaiah 40:31) and Cam's love for the majestic eagle. Later, my Mom asked me how I could possibly sing the words to the verses, because she herself could barely sing the chorus. I smiled and admitted that I didn't get to many of them... tears catching in my throat as my eyes lay upon my son.

You need not fear the terror of the night, Nor the arrow that flies by day;
Though thousands fall about you, Near you it shall not come.

Thank you, God for assuring him that You are ever present, keeping harm far from him... that as long as he remains in You, he need not be afraid.

For to his angels he's given a command To guard you in all of your ways;
Upon their hands they will bear you up, Lest you dash your foot against a stone.

Oh God, that You have commanded the angels to watch over my son, that you have directed them to lift him up and protect him... I thank you.

And he will lift you up on eagle's wings, Bear you on the breath of dawn,
Make you to shine like the sun, And hold you in the palm of his hand.

And as I sang, or tried to sing through overwhelming emotion and love... I felt the words in my heart, believed with my whole self that God commanded the angels to guard my son's beautiful heart and soul. And I could just about see the light shining around him, and feel the breath of life... all from above.

what my heart needed to hear

2011-05-03T09:32:00.002-04:00

"I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that"
~ Martin Luther King, Jr.

even if they fade...

2011-05-02T22:07:00.000-04:00

I wondered if the first one was real... but looking to my friend, she said that she too saw it out of the corner of her eye. The second one? There was no doubt. The bright light sailed through the darkness, and continued to glow soft yellow, for just a bit, while its path lay suspended across the sky. My legs skipped in place, and my voice might have squealed. Two shooting stars, on a morning when it was oh-so-hard to drag myself from sleep. Our eyes sought the sky, wondering if there might be one more... and then decided that perhaps even the seeking might be far too greedy. But I add them to my list of gifts... each deserving its own spot.

156. spotting a shooting star on a dark morning walk

157. and then a second one... I love how it lingered.

158. a beautiful weekend... full of so much.

159. feeling confident about the decision to take him out of inclusion

160. having the opportunity to be at his last scholar bowl tournament of middle school.

161. a clean house... and having the time to do it.

162. and extra hour in my Wednesday night.

163. choir friendships that continue to grow

164. tissue paper flowers

165. filling picture frames with faces I love...

166. a lunch date with my husband

167. a friend who offers to stay and clean up

168. having time to really visit with my sister-in-law

169. little girl in a pink tutu

170. the joy filled face of a bride, her dreams coming true.

171. admiring angels and telling the story... again

172. dancing {working} in the kitchen with my mom

173. having enough food

174. my skirt re-do working out just the way I planned

175. savoring the day, just a little more, before I share...

{virtual coffee} 15

2011-04-26T08:47:00.001-04:00

Still dark and quiet... and the coffee is hot, warming me from the inside out.
If I were more motivated I'd be out walking... but I can't seem to find my get-up-and-go unless I know my walking buddy is waiting at the end of the street, and she is off to a job fair this morning (good luck, Jane!) So I am enjoying this extra bit of time... and thinking about the weekend. The one that passed, and the one that is to come. I'm sure that if we were meeting for coffee in real life, the talk would be all about the one that passed... comparing Easter stories and traditions

It was a beautiful day.
Up early and readying for church... new clothes for some, old stand-bys for others... and of course, the old-turned new with a couple of packets of lime green dye. I was thankful for the extra time that the morning had somehow gathered up, and we took the time for pictures... some with baskets that had yet to be explored.

Easter service, the last one we will celebrate in the school cafeteria with a bull dog looking down at us {our building should be ready in one month!}, was glorious. Songs sung loud and strong.. alleluias abounding. Trumpet fanfare, lilies white... and as Communion was served, it felt like the first.

I leaned in to listen as Pastor put his hand on Camden's shoulder and blessed him... his bright smile filled with joy for this day, and for the one that comes next Sunday... when Cam will partake in Communion with body and blood for the very first time. After two years of Confirmation classes, and a lifetime of knowing Jesus, Cam will make his Confirmation. I'm already feeling the butterflies inside... the happy tears starting to form. If we were really meeting for coffee today... I'm sure I would invite you to join us. I keep doing that... as people come up to me and tell me how kind Cam is or how he jumped in and helped... again. I think I have always known... that this boy of mine is someone special, and not just to me or our family. There is just something about him that shines like the sun...

I hope that your Easter was beautiful,. full of Christ... and time with family and friends-who-have-become-family. We sat around the table for hours and when someone glanced at their watch and reported the time, I was so sad to have the leaving begin. But life happens on Monday. I'm not sure what else is happening this week, and am starting to feel like I might be missing something! Time to pull out the the calendar and check... but at least I did not miss you. Happy Tuesday, happy coffee!

recalling the beautiful

2011-04-25T07:05:00.000-04:00

Slipping into my shoes, I feel the dusting of sand that remains... and I smile.
It reminds me of where I've been, where he took me, where I worshipped...

: :

I all but rushed the walkway to lot 3.

As we drove across town my eyes were on the sky and the numbers on the clock. Sun sinking, minutes passing. Inside, I was second guessing the laid back attitude I had adopted for the afternoon, even knowing that this plan, this gift, loomed before me. On the outside I fought for calm... as the light flashed to red, again. But after, with miles of green, I breathed easier. We should get there and still have 35 minutes. Up and over the hill, the very last stretch before the gate... almost there! In front of us, the last car between us and our destination stopped... and let one group cross, and then another... and... one more. Typically-generous-of-soul me growled as moments (feeling like minutes) passed, and another car turned in front of us, arriving at the gate just before we did. They chatted with the park ranger as my feet tapped up and down, up and down... and my breathe raced in and out, in and out. Thirty minutes! Finally, it was us passing through the gate, and as we did, I noticed that the time of sunset, scrawled in chalk, was five minutes later than we had anticipated. Still, thirty-five!

I practically raced up and over the boardwalk, but catching sight of the crashing waves, I slowed and inhaled. And inhaled again. I let the crazy pass. I stopped counting the minutes. They no longer mattered. And with my feet finally in the sand, waves swirling at my ankles and splashing my knees... I exhaled. And I gave thanks.

Some would rise early for the sunrise, welcoming the dawn and the risen Christ. But I watched the molten sun melt into the sea, and felt the promise of the new day just the same, knowing that my sins were sunk deep on the ocean floor. And I give thanks again... for knowing the glory that the morning holds, for knowing that that stone has been rolled away and He lives.

He chose to take the cross, shed tears for the lost,
The broken and the needy, forgiving those who were and will be,
The angel made it clear, he told them, "Have no fear!
He's not here, He's not here!"

There He goes, a hero, Savior to the world,
Here He stands with scars in His hands,
With love He gave his life so we could be free,
The Savior of the world.
-lyrics from Hero, Abandon

: :

And there must be more...
125. more time to rest
126. sore throat retreating
127. a little bit of energy to get a head start on cleaning
128. reigning myself in and getting down to the heart of Easter week
129. high school orientation, and his dreams
130. piano music, played with confidence, by Cam
131. her excitement over a dress dyed green
132. working hard to catch up on lost work time, and her insistance that I leave early
133. the weekend, the weekend, the weekend... for all of us.

134. fresh hair cuts

135. the phone call he made, for me, in secret... and the invitation that followed

136. african cats, the movie

137. time for us to shop and plan... and the discovery of the cadbury bunny that clucks

138. getting ready for Good Friday service, even though I'm never ready

139. hearing the good news of Good Friday, and finally understanding
140. the old rugged cross
141. the way we leave in silence, but reach out to hold hands and offer a smile, the knowing of what comes on Sunday.
142. fear of a situation, and it turning out better than alright
143. the flurry of working together and bringing the house to order
144. time decorating eggs with a little one... and the wonder of it
145. golden sun shining through blades of grass

146. five more minutes
147. the beach + me= beauty in the soul
148. taking in the sight of him, long legs, handsome face... catching my breath
149. the light bar on the squad car being the perfect height to use the self-timer

150. alleluias, once again. praise God!

151. singing the songs that celebrate His promise

152. her smile and the light in her eyes over a silly solar flower... and the fact that I remembered she wished for it

153. the most beautiful comment from someone whose friendship makes my own heart more beautiful

154. family and friends gathered... celebrating, chatting, living...

155. the ultimate compliment... your kids are really great. really, they are awesome.

every year

2011-04-22T10:32:00.000-04:00

Black cloth replaces royal purple, heavy and dark. The simple sight of it causes my heart to quiver.
Those arms of the cross, stretched out east and west, have supported far more... thick nails, Jesus, the sins of the world.

The tears comes as the story is told, again. I see vivid scenes flash before my heart and it breaks me.
Year after year, the story remains unchanged... like Him.

But in the course of a year, my story has changed. Travelled uphill and down. I have cried and laid my heart at the foot of the cross, and I have declared my life is only for Him. But I have also taken up my own wants and cares and bundled them around my heart, so tightly that I am sure even Jesus cannot seep in.

Of course, why would He want to?
When I desire His words, see the Bible next to me within reach, and choose not to pick it up.
When I forgo falling to my knees and instead rush a prayer as I am flying out the door to catch up with my own agenda.
When I utter words that are the opposite of uplifting.

And yet... He never wavers from the path, He never leaves me behind.
Year after year, the story remains unchanged... like Him.
But every year... it changes me.

: :

He walked the dirty streets famous for nothing.
He said “come follow me” and they came.
A face like all the rest, but something was different.
The Son of God would lead the way.

And soon they all would say.

There He goes - a hero, A savior to the world.
Here He stands with scars in His hands.
With love He gave His life so we could be free.
The Savior of the world.

HERO LYRICS - ABANDON

{virtual coffee} 14

2011-04-19T08:50:00.000-04:00

Tuesday... virtual coffee with Amy & friends.
Yes, I'm trying to jump back into my routine, hoping to find the laughter in my voice.
After a couple of cups of tea to soothe my throat... I'm moving onto a gingerbread latte, made by me. Sweet and spicy, and hitting the spot. Also, I'm hoping the coffee might help me move past only 3 hours of sleep (thank you, prednizone.)

like my little coffee cozy? corinne is knitting up a storm!

If we were really meeting for coffee today, I might blurt out my my list of upcoming events. To share... but also saying them out loud helps to remember them, having not found the motivation to write that to-do list. Tomorrow is Cam's high school orientation. Yes, Cam. My baby. He's going to high school. He is also being confirmed on May 1st. We are very excited (about both, really!) and while I miss his little boy-ness, I sure love the young man he is becoming, growing every day. Also on the unwritten list of events? Easter. I have a feeling I should probably begin to prepare for that. My heart is getting there... but I having a hard time getting excited about baskets and eggs.

I am hoping that I might get around to a little more cleaning and straightening today. I keep looking at the pile of boxes in my entry way and wishing them away. I need to find a place for two of them... a box of bibles and a communion ware set that was sent to us and our church from the youth gathering we attended last summer. Hopefully I only need to find a place for them for two months- our beautiful church building should be open in June!!! And the other boxes? A Yankee Candle fundraiser... somehow we got the stuff but not the order form, and so I am just about clueless as far as who ordered what. I finally figured out what I ordered... but ten boxes remain.

I hope your Tuesday is lovely and comes with a good bit of motivation... and quite possibly, a heap of laughter!

aimlessly

2011-04-18T14:17:00.001-04:00

Marking time, moving forward.

This week I feel there is no difference. Days have passed without an ounce of inspiration... but I haven't sought it, either. These are the first words I type, because I feel I must, and still I feel... nothing. I blame it on April out of habit, and yet I'm not quite sure if April deserves the burden. I've not dwelled in the losses of too many Aprils, but I almost think that not feeling much of anything is as bad, or worse, than the dwelling. Perhaps it is the tired that has been pulling at my heels, or maybe the blanket of sick that is working its way up and over my head. It could also be the to-do list that begs to be written, and then carried out... and my hopeless attitude about both. Easter is coming and I should be collecting treasure to nestle in pastel strands of grass, but I can't quite make myself feel the urgency. And truly, I want to feel it all around me, the urgency and the excitement, the pain and the glorious joy... but I guess I'm not there quite yet. With a sigh I realize that I have just heaped a bundle of pressure on the days between now and then. But the days within this week, they were made to sustain far more that my aimless mood.

I sit, empty... and listen to the silence.
And just as I am about to push away, I hear the quiet whisperings of joy.
And in those breaths, I am reminded of the beauty and the full of joy days that I have covered with layers of gray... and a sudden fit of laughter escapes my mouth and I feel the upturned corner of my smile. Yes... there has been beauty and love and fun. More than my share, more than I deserve. Memories of recent yesterdays flash before me like photographs... and I know that the week has not been half of what I have made it out to be. I was present. I laughed. I gave of myself... even if I thought there wasn't much to be given.

And the items on this list grow, in spite of myself...

101. the joy in the anticipation of my family being all together
102. returning to Africa... even if only through 3D glasses and a movie screen
103. his uncanny knowledge of "that look" and fair warning before a little girl's dinner reappeared.
104. my daughter's patience... even if afterwards she said never again.
105. meeting Jenn.
106. the realization that there is no "imaginary" in our friendship
107. a luxurious place to play and rest... a gift from a generous giver.
108. the excitement in teenage eyes as they waited for entrance into the Wizarding World of Harry Potter- the Christmas gift they had been holding on to.
109. my own little bits of wonder that snuck in... and the things I do for love
110. buckled up, four across... waiting for a wild ride
111. a second "second wind" that brought us home safe & sound.
112. birds chirping as I wake.
113. the relief that Advil brings
114. good news from a hospital waiting room far away... having been there before, I know.
115. the way he loves me everyday... and another little text message that melted my heart
116. an invite for homemade pizza
117. friends around the table... with laughter and chatter
118. seven deer on the hill... two of them very little
119. follow up comments on DWTS, texted between lifelong friends
120. the camaraderie of friends, walking together in pink shirts for something so much bigger than ourselves
121. the "I miss you blog" email from my Mom
122. a steroid shot... it is hard for me to consider this a gift, but I will since it will make me feel better and it didn't come with a week of follow-up pills.
123. time to rest.
124. still being just a bit taller than my son

if you met me...

2011-04-08T08:50:00.000-04:00

I hope you would see my smile first... and not the uncertainty behind it, the shyness, the I am not enough-ness. And then, perhaps you would see my eyes. There you would see my heart. Open and friend-seeking... sparkling the smile of who I want to be. There would be talking, and there would be laughter... and the laughter would tumble all that ugliness that catches in my breath and asks will she like me? into oblivion. Sometimes I believe that laughter can cure all... add in a little (or a lot of) chocolate and we might just be able to save the world.

I am meeting an imaginary-but-very-real-friend this weekend... and we made a promise over the phone. Not to be nervous. I plan to keep my end of the bargain, because I know from her words and her heart that shines through them, that I already love her. And I hope that she will do the same... because what is in my heart, and who I am... is all right there in the words.

5-10-15-20...

2011-04-07T09:19:00.001-04:00

No. You don't have to do more math. But you could sing a little.
Do you remember learning to count by fives?
And chanting them incessantly?
I remember loving it... and to this day, I can't count nickels without singing that rhythm.

Fiiiive, tehhhh-en, fif-teen, tweeen-ty....

I wasn't counting nickels today, but it popped into my mind anyway, and I thought I'd share some bits about me... in groups of five. Just for fun.

Five things in my purse...
5. Burts Bees Clove chapstick.
5. a very pretty crossword puzzle book... "easy."
5. AA batteries... in case my camera runs out!
5. my out-of-juice ipod.
5. two chocolate & green starlight mints that I never ate after a beautiful breakfast out with a friend.

Five words that conjure beauty in my mind...
10. love
10. grace
10. dessert
10. shine
10. friend

Five silly things that are so... me
15. jumping in puddles.
15. really loud laughter.
15. ice cream earrings.
15. uncontainable excitement that has my feet leaving the floor.
15. dessert plates for every holiday & season.

Five lessons I have learned...
20. be yourself, and let your children be themselves.
20. when you finally gather the courage to stretch your box, you might find that it gives you the strength to stretch again.
20. laugh, cry, love... one at a time, or all at once.
20. friendships are precious, and time spent sharing your heart is time very well spent.
20. comfortable is good. necessary. a gift... and so very under-rated.

The picture doesn't have a thing to do with this post... but I thought it might ease the pain of the "counting-by-fives" song that will probably be stuck in your head all day!

{virtual coffee} 13

2011-04-05T11:35:00.002-04:00

Hello, Tuesday!
Hello, long lost coffee friends!

Life has been busy. Good busy, but busy.
And now that April has arrived, it seems there will be no stopping until the heat of summer sets in! But I made sure to make the most of my empty winter weekends knowing that this time would come... as it always does.

If we were really meeting for coffee today, I would probably tell you all about the movie I am so excited to see on Friday! Born to Be Wild. (check it out here! )We are making it a big family event and I have had April 8th marked on my calendar for months! Do you remember the elephants that my kids adopted? They, and their friends, are the stars of the movie. And the orangutans. We will hope to catch a glimpse of Ishanga and Kibo, the parts of our family that still linger in Africa... with our hearts.

(elephants on the serengeti! not from the movie... but from my very own camera!)

I might also tell you that on the 16th, I am walking for my little friend Kaci-with-the-beautiful-blue-eyes. I have known her for all of her seven years. Last year she was diagnosed with Type I diabetes... and this year, friends and family have joined to gether to create Team Kaci... doing what we can to fight for a cure. If you feel moved to donate, thank you. (Just click on the Team Kaci link and look for my name. Or Laura's. Or Cam's.) I will write your name on my shirt and think of you as we march! And if you don't feel called to donate, would you say a little prayer for the event? Thank you!

If we were really meeting for coffee, I would tell you that I am waiting for report cards to come home this afternoon... and I am excited. Both of them will be fantastic, and it is a relief. I always tell them that the letter grades don't matter if they are truly doing their very best work, and I do mean that... but the first letters of the alphabet make me smile the brightest. And I think that doing well does things for their own hearts... knowing that the hard work does pay off. For too many years, it didn't. To me, that hurts the most... working and working and seeing that your best effort just isn't up to par. But this time we'll head into the fourth quarter with confidence and try to finish strong.

I might ask... how are you decorating for Easter? Even though I don't have a ton of Easter decorations, I have a hard time deciding what to do. In the dark of Lent I don't want to throw up the He is Alive banner... I don't feel quite ready for Easter joy, especially when Good Friday is looming. But I decided that I couldn't leave up the leperchauns either! This year I decided on spring... and with spring comes hope. I feel like it is just-right for right now. Thank you, Richella.

I hope you are feeling the fresh breath of spring,
and that you are letting your heart feel the hope... of sunshine, of new life, of Jesus.