digging deep on monday

I'm joining up with Ann again, continuing this list of gifts. 
I will tell you that it was far into the week before I heard the whisper of God... the reminder that I needed to be looking for the gifts He was placing before me.  I usually don't need that nudge, gentle or otherwise... but I suppose I got so caught up in me and my own to-do lists that I looked right past the beauty He was laying out before me.  And then... once I started, the week got messier and my heart grew heavier. 
So today I dig deep... and know that the gifts I count are not all beautiful to the naked eye... but beautiful, just the same. 

On my way to 1,000... #15-30
- a butterfinger birthday cake, much appreciated
-the gathering of people who really care about the marching band and their kids participation
-ann's real hair.. soft and curly
-the silliness of a "massage" in a bottle... and that it took me a while to catch the joke
-an unexpected quiet evening at home... even though the reason for it made my heart frown
-real mail, real handwriting
-not being in charge of our sick son.  Oh, how I wanted to be, but I had to let it go and put the trust in my very-capable husband.  It was so hard to go to work and leave them behind, but in it, I found the gift God was pushing me to... trust.
-the not appendicitis diagnosis
-working in my big-girl shoes, and not falling apart
-the intuition to tell the difference between a God-whisper and my own imagination... at least in the instance of thinking it was more than just a bug
-a heart-shaped breakfast... and that the smile it brought gave me what I needed to head out the door to work.

-four of us, in one room, just living
-a figuring-it-out kind of brain
-the unexpected smile on the other side of my door, and the visit we shared
-starting the day off walking
-the realization that God is my safety net in this tightrope of life.

the tightrope

Sunday.
Day five.
Day five of fever and stomach pain and not feeling hungry... and when your fourteen year old son says he's not hungry, the world feels foreign.  He is doing just fine.  We talk, we watch TV, we hang on the couch... and ever since the doctor ruled out appendicitis, I am breathing without too much worry.  But I wander, feeling lost... and my heart cracks when I see his flushed face and those dark circles that are resting under those beautiful brown eyes.  Even though he says he's not hungry, I offered up a few dry tortilla chips for distraction, and he gladly nibbled.  Now he sleeps, in the middle of the day... and I am somehow lost again.  
This mothering job does not get easier... and sometimes I wonder if it is actually harder now than it was when they were little and depended on me for everything. 
Then... I knew it was all up to me. 
Now... I walk that tightrope strung up between then and independence.  Looking ahead, there is not much rope left... and I wonder if there is indeed enough length left before me to teach the things I feel I have neglected, or forgotten, or more accurately... never thought to teach at all.  As I glance back at the quivering rope I wonder if it might be possible to backtrack just a bit... and find myself stretching my arms out for balance as I tip towards hovering. 
But when they are sick... they are still my babies.  I am bound by the laws of motherhood to hover.  It is what we do... along with the temperature taking, the medicine doling, and the pressing of hands against foreheads as if by some magic force we might know what to do next. 
But today... I don't.  I don't know what to do.  So I look to the Healer, and ask Him again to provide all we need... to be healthy, to embrace peace.

treasure of the heart

Wednesday is junk mail day... but folded in the middle of flyers and ads and catalogs I will never order from, there was treasure.  Plucking the gold envelope out of the stack, I could tell it was real mail... and when I turned it over my fingers raced to tear open the flap.  But I stopped... and took just a moment to first hold it to my heart.  Her handwriting is precious to me.  It has always been the most beautiful writing... the handwriting I have always hoped might flow from my own pen.  But my squat loops are so different from her delicate, precise script.  I know I will save this card, and its envelope forever.  Because her writing is a part of her... my one in a long equation of grandparents.  And though she lives too many states away, she is never far from my heart.

We were lined up on the hard pew of the church, waiting for Cam's piano recital to begin... and my Mom leaned over to me and put a big envelope in my hands.  She smiled and told me she had finally decided on the perfect Christmas gift for my Gramma.  Intrigued, I reached inside... but before the sheets of paper were fully exposed, my curiosity turned to tears.  The kind of tears that overwhelm and humble.  There were pages of my own words tucked in that envelope... a subscription to your blog she said with a smile.  And while they might consider my words a gift... these two women are a gift to me.   Because while my heart pours out the words for me... those words somehow become more when someone else cares about them, when someone else feels them as deeply as I do. 

So Mom and Gramma... thank you.  Thank you for loving me and supporting me.  Thank you for being amazed by me, even though I might think that is just a little much.  I love you both!

{virtual coffee} 11

If you were meeting me here at my house for coffee this afternoon... you probably would have been waiting in the driveway for me.  It took me forever to get home from work!  I'm not sure there are cars left in any other state (and the other day I heard that there are no more rental cars available in this state!) and then it started pouring down rain.  You would have thought it was snow with all of the brake lights and half the speed limit!  But after a string of eleven perfect weather days... and some great ones leading up to them... perhaps the rain is as foreign to us as snow.   I finally did make it home, and the rain seems to have all but stopped.... so I think Camden will make it home from school without my help.  And if there are just a few raindrops. he will be thrilled to ride his bike through them.

So here we'd be... sipping warm delicious coffee.  I'd invite you into the kitchen while I finished up a dessert for tonight's band booster meeting.  I hope it'll be good... I never made it before!  But I found the recipe here, and I'm hoping no one will be injured in the stampede!  At tonight's meeting I am going to be brave... and put my name in for vice president for next year.  Being secretary was way out of my comfort zone... and this is far beyond even that.  But I think I can do it... I think I might even be good at it.  And next year both Laura & Cam will be in marching band.  I'm both excited and in a state of disbelief.  This will be it... our one overlapping year.  From the beginning we said we'd be very involved... because our family would be a part of it for seven years.

Oh HI Cam!  Yes, he made it home.  Just a little wet.  And if you were here, you'd smile, then he'd smile... and you would melt. 

This weekend he & Eric camped with the Boy Scout troop.  I did get to missing them... but Laura and I had some great time together.  We poked through the bookstore, shared a great conversation over dinner, and... spent two hours watching the waves and the birds. 
With books and beach chairs and shoes that slipped off in the sand... we sat and enjoyed the afternoon as it stretched into evening.  As the sun set, I stood in it's glow, just beyond ankle-deep in the waves... and a dolphin swam right on by under the sun.  And as the sun melted into the sea, and the water rushed around my feet... my heart couldn't help but worship.  It really was a beautiful weekend.

If you were really here, I might share a bit of my day with you.  My boss asked me to tag along with her when she went to pick up some art supply donations.  A husband had called us to empty his wife's craft closet, as she had passed away less than two months ago.  The closet was filled with treasure that will go to our recycle room, and then into the hands of public school art teachers.  But I ached for this man's heart... I could tell he was still shaken by her absence.  Their home was full of her... every wall, every surface... thousands of photos.  And I wondered... if he will stay there, or move on.  It made me think of my Grandma, too... and I am thankful to have a couple tangible memories to hold onto. 

Thanks for stopping by today... sharing coffee and conversation with a friend is one of my favorite ways to spend the afternoon.   If you need another cup... hop on over to Amy's Lucky Number 13.  there is always plenty of coffee to go around!