sunday splash...

I love the rain.

I love how it softens the outlines of things.

The world becomes softly blurred, 

and I feel like I could melt right into it. 

-Hanamoto Hagumi

a simple list of thankful...

 

-a sunset on an evening that needed a bit of grace

-a city that cooperated, and got the job done

-family... safe

-thinking about a few smiles that i sent in the mail

-a very unlikely surprise in our mail… that offered a bit of breathing room

-one beautiful day, in every way

-holding my dear friend in prayer all weekend as she navigated the emotions of loss and love

-and that she felt the Lord’s presence through it

-April, almost over

-three weeks until zoo school

-stirring up a big bowl of snicker dip… and having it for dinner

when the breathing is hard...

Off they went... father and daughter... off to see the future.
I really didn't mind not going along... I knew they could handle it without me. 
And if one of us was going to pick the apartment without the other, better him than me. 

Yes, I said apartment. 

The time has come... for the future to begin.  I have been holding on for this very moment... anticipating it with great joy and relief.  But tonight... after a couple quick messages, fewer pictures, and a signed lease, I can barely breathe.

My heart aches.  Tears are stinging and I refuse to let them fall. 
How can I feel so sure she needs to be away and so unsure about sending her off at the same time? 
I wonder how much knowledge I can fit into one month. One. 

In a fit of swallowing hard and holding back tears I type out a desperate note to my forever friend... i am freeeeaaaaa-king out.  And she replies with the words I need most: just breathe. and trust. you've raised her well.  she will be okay.  you can do this and you will be in awe of her. i promise.

She would know.
With daughters only six months apart, she has been my go-to girl... for sixteen years.

When they arrived home from making their way up the state and back, I was glad for safe and sound.  But more glad for the look in her eye.  You are excited?  She might have said yes, but I was so enthralled with the glow of her face that I only read her answer.  And so in one short month, we will stack boxes and memories and love into the back of the car, and head off for her next adventure.  And though it is only a month, and communication between there and here can be instant, the last two sentences in this post remind me that I've been preparing for this moment forever...

It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.

.e.e.cummings

dark & ugly and what covers it

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...

a bit of peace revealed

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

i might write

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.

what my heart needed to hear

"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.

the same page

The weekend was full of weariness. Late nights that were unavoidable, days that were brimming with activity. All important, nothing that could have been set aside for another day. I wish I could have set aside some of the words that spouted from my own mouth...
Mothers and daughters... not always the easiest of relationships. Sometimes it is really good, and sometimes... oh sometimes, I wish we could just avoid each other and be happy about it. But I pushed her this weekend. I pushed her to accomplish tasks that were far from her desiring, and far too long overdue for my liking. And she pushed back... like a real teenager is apt to do.
Sometimes I think my kids are not real teenagers, but there are days when I receive my reality check.
But yesterday was a new day. Almost. At least it was a new day after the sun came up. Before that? I just might have had some words left in me that I should have kept to myself.
So yesterday afternoon was a new day... and as she & I sat together in the bathroom ready to fancy-up her hair for her high school open house and her first chorus performance, we smiled together.
How do you want your hair?
Just regular.
Okay.
Or... I kinda miss my...
Spiky hair?
Yeah.
I was thinking I kinda missed it too.
And there we were, giggling over finishing each other's thoughts, and being on the same page. And it felt good, after a weekend that was dashed with struggles. The giggling continued, along with the little details of her day... and I could not help but linger in the goodness of us, mother and daughter.
It is an everyday gift... a gift that might have been overlooked, if not for the uneasiness that prefaced.
 A Tuesday kind of gift.
And thankfulness abounds.

allowance

Looking for my running shoes this morning, the anger started to boil within. How could I allow myself to lose track of them... or more to the point, how could I allow the days between now and the last time they were laced, ready to move? Uncovering them from where they had been tossed... I vowed anew. To keep them in sight. Ready to roll.

Three weeks ago, I allowed a glimpse of fear to seep into my workout. Week three was tough. Not so tough that I couldn't endure it, but hard enough to make me doubt. Running three minutes took so much breath... how would I ever be able to run a 5K? And through the doubt, above the music raging in my ears, there was a voice.
You are on week three?
Yes. As if You don't know...
How many weeks between now and a 5K?
Ummm... six.
Yes, six.
And He makes me realize this is a process, a journey. No, I wasn't ready for that 5K on week three... but I needed to trust that He would carry me through the journey. And knowing that, keeping it close to my heart, I began to love week three.

A week or so ago... I began Week Four. It took all I had to complete the first day. All I had. But finish, I did. And now...it has taken me a full week, maybe more, to dig out those shoes again. Fear. Not only did I allow it to show its face again, I allowed it to cover my heart. Even knowing that God would meet me on the journey, was waiting for me... I allowed the excuses and the busyness. I allowed the hiding. And in the allowance, I deprived myself of any feeling of success and goodness. I deprived myself of His voice. His goodness.

Motivated by deprivation... I stepped back into the journey. Today.  It was hard. And I didn't quite have the finish I desired. I pushed and pushed and called for His breath... and still, I allowed the slowing of flying feet. I know it was not Him that let me down... not Him... but me. But in the face of giving in, there were promises made. New goals set. Goodness... right around the bend.   And allowance... to seek success.

if wishes were horses...

There are some days I wish I had made different choices...
There are some days I wish I worked closer to home...
But I'm here now... and she is okay... so I'm okay.

sick can drag you down

It is no secret that I have been struggling. My smile and my laughter have been playing hide and seek with my heart, and it has been harder and harder to be the seeker. I figured I would feel better once the antibiotic kicked in and banished the sinus infection... but still, I fought to keep my head up. Turning to the words of the Lover of my soul helped. I prayed and begged to be me again... and while hope filled me, I wondered if there was something more. Eric has tolerated my whining with love and humor... and he has sopped up tears with his shoulder. Over the weekend I sensed a change in my breathing, and wondered if I was still not well. Still, I kept on wrapping myself in God's loving words. And the more I read, the more I felt cushioned by His mercy.
Yesterday... I gave in and headed to the doctor, even though I felt pretty okay. I half expected the doctor to say I was just fine... lingering cough. But instead, I found myself half covered with a flimsy gown waiting for a chest x-ray... to rule out walking pneumonia. Although I didn't really think pneumonia was a plus in my column, I was relived that I was not crazy. I usually wait to visit the doctor. Until I am sure I am really sick. Too sick. But not this time... I am trying to take better care of myself and know that I am worth a trip to the doctor now and again.
The verdict? Bronchitis. Again. My doctor, she looked into my eyes and said You were right to come. You needed to be here. And I wheezed a sigh of relief.
So here I am... being thankful for a bout of bronchitis. Feeling hopeful that the medicine will do its job. And certain that I won't even have to seek that smile... it will come out of hiding all on its own.

ugly, once again

Yesterday all of the selfishness and ugliness inside of me rose up and smeared itself all over my beautiful-last-day-of-vacation day. After what seemed like a month of pushing away too many hurt feelings and a bit of anger, the last straw fell and I lost my battle with my temper. It didn’t feel good… it didn’t accomplish anything… and all I was left with was a headache, a heavy heart and a tear-stained face I couldn’t disguise, try as I might. I trust you, Jesus.

In the moment I felt undermined and frustrated... and as if my very calling of being a mother was being questioned. In thinking it all over, again and again, running it all again in my mind, and then mulling and dwelling, the clarity is setting in… and I can see that my response was less about a Mama protecting her cub and more about this Mama protecting her spot in her cub’s life. And I can be honest enough to admit that mine was a reaction to an unintentional action. But unintentional or not, it doesn’t really make it hurt any less. And even on a good day I question my own abilities as a mother, coming to the conclusion that my kids make me look really good. I really don't need any help in feel less. I trust you, Jesus.

I know I have a right to my own feelings… and while I would not hurt anyone intentionally, sometimes you have to stand up and not be walked over… again and again. I am a believer in picking your battles. I suppose yesterday’s was one of them. I have support. And love. And now, a barrier with a little bit thicker walls. I’m not sure Jesus likes that part, but for right now, I need it. And still... I am trusting Him.

staying ahead of the storm

The sky looks ominous this morning. That hazy yellowish hue is hovering with a heaviness to it. It makes me think that the sky might fall... in those big sloshing silver-dollar sized raindrops. I grabbed my umbrella... just in case. But the way the wind is blowing, opening it might just carry me off to Oz. Looking in the rear view mirror, I can see the storm in the distance... chasing me. And I press on just a little more. Trying to stay ahead of the storm.
How often do I play that game? Pushing myself just a little bit more...to stay ahead. Of the stretched ends that might not be meeting. Or the argument that is simmering on the back burner. Or even those hurt feelings that have covered my heart... tucked away out of sight behind the storm shutters.
But I have learned... that the storm comes. It comes fiercely, and often leaves a mess that cannot be swept up under the carpet of our life.
Still... I press on. Grabbing tight to the One who steers me...eventually emerging into the Son.