Merry Christmas

My prayer for each of us is to not take only this one day to cling to the hope and promise offered through the gift of God's son, but that we would each grasp and hold tight to the truth that enables us to love beyond the limits of our own heart and mind's understanding. I can't shake the thought that our world is meant to know so much more about acceptance and value of each other; not based on ideology or religion, economics or politics, but based on a love that supersedes all human understanding. At Christmas time, we are presented with opportunities to slow down the pace and focus on family, friends, and food (sorry, you and I know it's true). In the verses sung and heard through carols and songs throughout the world, we are reminded of our humanity, and God's awesomeness and abundance. I have sung this verse, recited it in my heart, and prayed it for my family and friends with a fresh awareness and eagerness.

Truly He taught us to love one another. His law is love, and His gospel is peace.
So often I find myself lending my own judgment and rationale into situations and circumstances that have absolutely no bearing or credence to anything. If only I could be reminded in those moments that God's call for me is to love, just love. I am not called to make choices for others, or decide if the choices they make are right or wrong. My call, God's call for each of us, is to love one another. I am so encouraged that He isn't asking me to carry another's burden, but to love them and to reconcile my actions with His heart of love for all people. I can't wait to follow where He leads. So often I think I need to know where that is. But I ask you to pray for me as I let go of the "need to know", and just follow Him into the next minute. I look forward to experiencing the peace that comes from loving under the rules of God's love.

Chains shall He break, for the slave is our brother. And in His name, all oppression shall cease.
I love the visual of chains breaking. Can you imagine the clanging of chains falling to the ground? Can you imagine hearts of brokenness and humiliation, degradation and anger dissolving into common hearts united in serving one another? Not for the benefit of a paycheck or acclaim, but just because we belong to each other, as family. I would love to hear those sounds! I ask you to pray for my heart. There is brokenness and pain that separates me from my family, friends, and neighbors. Some discord I know so well as they are circumstances stamped into my soul as constant reminders of my own human failure and inability. And yet, there are circumstances, where in my own ignorance and lack of awareness, I have caused chains of hurt and sorrow that I don't know how to address, let alone break loose. Such pain is what so many hearts struggle to understand and reconcile.

Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we. Let all within us praise His Holy name.
Maybe it's the response to love and freedom that erupts into song that I most relate to in these lyrics. I do imagine singing each and every day with a freedom and ease that will make my high C's not sound like a dying cat. It's a lot to ask, but, I have a feeling that's what will happen on the day I leave this world and enter into the realm of peace and joy that God designed for each of us when He created the world, but which we can only experience when reconciled with Him. What thrills me even more, is that all the folks who look at me like I am a dying cat when I sing those high notes, will potentially appreciate my singing, and may even respond to God's goodness in like fashion. I am currently imagining a few people who claim to not have such great voices, all of a sudden, opening their mouths and hearing a beautiful, glorious sound erupting from deep within their bodies. Shock and amazement, and some pretty hilarious expressions.

Christ is the Lord. Oh, praise His name forever. His power and glory evermore proclaim.
In the beginning, and in the end, this is indeed the truth. Christ is the Lord. God loved us so much, He gave us His son, Jesus, in the form of a baby, to walk this world. He knows each need, He loves each of us; just because...no matter what...even if...! No matter what scenario you use to fill in the blanks, He is still going to love you, and He is still going to love me. I assure you that I have tested the limits of His love through my own behavior, ideology, judgment, criticism, hatred, brokenness, and my humanity. I know that I am not done testing. As surely as I sit here writing of this great love for Him, and my awareness of His love for me; I know that I will stray into darkness in thoughts, words, and deeds. Some of this darkness will appear as light that I will enter ignorantly. Some will have blazing red neon lights with the words, "DANGER", "STAY OUT", "NO TRESPASSING", or "DO NOT ENTER". And still, I will look around and think, "Are you talking to me? Surely you don't meant that for me." God will love me even then. Please pray for me to see those warnings, and to turn to His light instead of walking into the darkness of my own human need and desire. His law is love, and His gospel is peace. That is the light that I choose this night. It is beautiful and warm. It is safe and secure, and it is a place that each of us can claim, moment by moment. My prayer is for your heart at this moment to abide in His love, and choose to love in response.

I love you, I miss you, and I wish you a very Merry Christmas.

When I grow up...

When I grow up, I want to be an eyebrow designer/sculptition (this may be a new term, but I am running with it). Now, I know there may be a few that don't think I am equipped for this profession. But, I have been considering what I can do with my life, and this is a viable option. Let's consider the pros.

I am fascinated with pores on the face. I know it's kind of gross. But, ever since my friend Kim introduced me to the magnifying mirror and tweezers that she keeps under lock and key, I have found unparalleled joy in examining the pores on my face, and the subsequent hairs that protrude from them. Since moving to Texas, I haven't gotten my eyebrows waxed or professionally sculpted. I have been maintaining proper eyebrow design on my very own. It is a nightly ritual, (sad, but true). Paying close attention to the natural bone structure seems to be a specific talent that I could bring to the field. I also have a particular gift at spotting the gray hairs that would like to infiltrate the brown eyebrow hairs that God clearly intended for me. In addition to attention, I bring a natural desire to be with people.

Greeting folks and putting their fears at ease would come naturally. But, perhaps what excites me most is being able to be paid to inflict pain on people. I won't dwell on this little detail, it's just not going to paint a good picture of me. But, I will say, I think I could keep a smile on my face, spread some hot wax on the very sensitive skin around the eyes, then apply a cloth gently, and without wincing, quickly rip it off. I would, of course, apply some pressure, and if requested, some skin sensitivity lotion to reduce the redness and irritation. I am not heartless. I wouldn't go pull people out of the mall and force them into my chair, and subject them to pain with the very small benefit of a better arch. But, for willing participants, I would gladly subject them to pain and suffering all for the cause of a better eyebrow arch.

Now, I do realize, I may have some deficits that would be hindrances in obtaining this goal. A small matter of...my shaking hand syndrome. Though it is well managed, and almost indistinguishable, (especially since I have eliminated many of the stressors contributing to more intense bouts of the syndrome), it could definitely be a deterrent. Also, though I am very attentive to the fine details of the facial structure, I am easily distracted. I could easily set that burning hot wax right in the middle of an eyebrow, causing rather unattractive results. I do realize that earning a living in the field would require efficiency, thereby allowing service to more clients per hour. My desire to get to know people might require more time and commitment to relationships that a typical eyebrow designer would have allotted. Adjustments in my expectations of client development would need to be adjusted. Or, adjustments in income expected would be necessary.

As you can see, there is much to consider. Growing up is never easy. When making decisions about career paths and skill development, there is much to think about. I suppose having a break from the music, movement, and madness of my routine has provided me this opportunity to consider what to do with my life. I will continue to ponder this in my heart and praying for God's guidance. I encourage you to join me in praying. Especially if you live in the Abilene, Texas area. You would be my training ground. This is a skill that would be transferable to many communities, but Abilene, you have a large role to play in my success. I will need willing participants to aid me in the effort of my design/sculptitionist career goals.

O Holy Night

Today I was listening to O Holy Night on the radio, and it was as if I was hearing it for the first time. I mean, I could totally sing along with it, because I sing it every Christmas, (even years when I don't sing it publicly, I perform it for at least myself). It is one of the songs sung by the person who inspired me to learn how to sing. I would sit in awe each Christmas Eve as this beautiful woman sang gloriously the words that I couldn't begin to comprehend the meaning. Even today as I listened, I was struck by the poignancy and the magnitude of the poetry.

O Holy Night, the stars are brightly shining. It is the night of our dear Savior's birth.
Can you imagine the beauty of that night? We think of the one star that shined so brightly that it literally marked the very spot where the Lord was born. But, the entire sky was filled with stars. The tapestry of the sky paid testimony to the miraculous God who was giving this world, our world, the gift of life, everlasting life.

Long lay the world in sin and error pining. 'Til He appeared, and the soul felt its worth.
We are still in this world of sin and error. But, the gift given that first Christmas night can be realized not just at Christmas time, but ANY time. Because of the one gift from God, through Jesus Christ, our very souls can feel the worth inherited through the King that was born. He walked this world of sin, of error pining, and He knows what each of us struggles with through our inherent human weakness.

A thrill of hope, the eager world rejoices; for yonder lies a new and glorious morn.
It's true. But it seems so hard to believe. Doubt threatens to steal the thrill, the awe, the wonder, the truth of this glorious morn. We can't know it until we accept the gift, and we don't know if we should accept because it is new, uncharted territory. And, if truly honest, it's scary. It's scary to believe that the foretelling of a new and glorious morn, the promise of value and worth, is really based on stars in the sky, and an infant King.

Fall on your knees. Oh, hear the angel voices; oh night divine, oh night when Christ was born.
After the poet, Adolphe Adams, describes the excitement, the joy, the splendor of the night, there is a request for action. There is an urgency in the phrasing. I have had very few occasions to fall on my knees. Only in the midst of such overwhelming beauty and hope would falling to one's knees be warranted. But the request doesn't stop there. We are to hear the angel's voices. Oh, to have been under the star and hearing the angel's voices heralding the arrival of this baby, this King. What more could one do than fall to one's knees. Speechless, overwhelmed, fearful, hopeful, joyful, scared; emotions that capture the hearts and minds during the arrival of new life.

Dear friends, our God offers new life every moment of our day. Though we remember the arrival of Jesus each Christmas, imagine these lyrics heralding the moment of awareness when each person realizes the thrill of hope, the rejoicing, that a newborn King came to this world, and gave Himself; for you, your brother, your sister, your friend, your enemy, the stranger, the foreigner, the poor, the wounded, the lonely, the rich, the mighty, the weak, the somebody, the nobody, and every lost person that roams the world looking into the sky for hope that their soul is worth the precious gift of the King.

This anthem rings in my ears, vibrates in my vocal chords, and resonates in my heart and mind. It is too much to comprehend and yet, it is so real that I feel it to the very core of my being. As I ponder the richness of truth so beautifully offered through the gift of poetry and music, I have to stop and thank God that the truth is as real as the notes on the page and the stars in the sky. It is beauty and joy manifested in each of our hearts because of the Holy Night that our Lord God thought so highly of us, that he was willing to reconcile our hearts through Jesus Christ, his only son. Ruminating on this first verse inspires me to fall on my knees and listen.

Letter from Jesus

Letter from Jesus about Christmas --

It has come to my attention that many of you are upset that folks are taking My name out of the season.

How I personally feel about this celebration can probably be most easily understood by those of you who have been blessed with children of your own. I don't care what you call the day. If you want to celebrate My birth, just GET ALONG AND LOVE ONE ANOTHER.

Now, having said that let Me go on. If it bothers you that the town in which you live doesn't allow a scene depicting My birth, then just get rid of a couple of Santas and snowmen and put in a small Nativity scene on your own front lawn. If all My followers did that there wouldn't be any need for such a scene on the town square because there would be many of them all around town.

Stop worrying about the fact that people are calling the tree a holiday tree, instead of a Christmas tree. It was I who made all trees. You can remember Me anytime you see any tree. Decorate a grape vine if you wish: I actually spoke of that one in a teaching, explaining who I am in relation to you and what each of our tasks were. If you have forgotten that one, look up John 15: 1 - 8.

If you want to give Me a present in remembrance of My birth here is my wish list. Choose something from it:

1. Instead of writing protest letters objecting to the way My birthday is being celebrated, write letters of love and hope to soldiers away from home. They are terribly afraid and lonely this time of year. I know, they tell Me all the time.

2. Visit someone in a nursing home. You don't have to know them personally. They just need to know that someone cares about them.

3. Instead of writing the President complaining about the wording on the cards his staff sent out this year, why don't you write and tell him that you'll be praying for him and his family this year. Then follow up... It will be nice hearing from you again.

4. Instead of giving your children a lot of gifts you can't afford and they don't need, spend time with them. Tell them the story of My birth, and why I came to live with you down here. Hold them in your arms and remind them that I love them.

5 Pick someone that has hurt you in the past and forgive him or her.

6. Did you know that someone in your town will attempt to take their own life this season because they feel so alone and hopeless? Since you don't know who that person is, try giving everyone you meet a warm smile; it could make the difference.

7. Instead of nit picking about what the retailer in your town calls the holiday, be patient with the people who work there. Give them a warm smile and a kind word. Even if they aren't allowed to wish you a "Merry Christmas" that doesn't keep you from wishing them one. Then stop shopping there on Sunday. If the store didn't make so much money on that day they'd close and let their employees spend the day at home with their families

8. If you really want to make a difference, support a missionary-- especially one who takes My love and Good News to those who have never heard My name.

9. Here's a good one. There are individuals and whole families in your town who not only will have no "Christmas" tree, but neither will they have any presents to give or receive. If you don't know them, buy some food and a few gifts and give them to the Salvation Army or some other charity which believes in Me and they will make the delivery for you.

10. Finally, if you want to make a statement about your belief in and loyalty to Me, then behave like a Christian. Don't do things in secret that you wouldn't do in My presence. Let people know by your actions that you are one of mine.

Don't forget; I am God and can take care of Myself. Just love Me and do what I have told you to do. I'll take care of all the rest. Check out the list above and get to work; time is short. I'll help you, but the ball is now in your court. And do have a most blessed Christmas with all those whom you love and remember

I LOVE YOU, Merry Christmas.....
JESUS

Gut instincts (not really what the blog is about, but I really liked the picture)

I wish I were a poet. Though I am thankful that God gave me my voice, and allows me to use it in a variety of arenas, I have recently encountered the most beautiful poetry. When I read it, I hear songs; and I feel the emotions expressed. It's amazing. Sometimes I hear lines of poetry in my mind. Usually in the middle of the night, I create lines of words that seem to flow together like poetry. Mostly, that happens when I pray. I now completely understand why my student, (the great poet I am referenced earlier), walks around with a binder. She is totally prepared when the moment strikes, when her creativity explodes.

If only we could all harness the words and the feelings running rampant in our hearts and minds. Too often, I find myself expressing thoughts at inopportune times, with very little tact. Certainly, I don't have to be a poet to do a better job of timing my expressions. But, I have to believe if I organized my words to better represent my thoughts and feelings, I may end up with a better relationship on the other side of the discussion. So many conversations I can't take back. The words struck with such force and intensity they now live within the heart of a loved one who should never have been forced to endure the initial shock, or the lasting repercussions.

I wonder if you struggle with that predicament. Have words ever flowed off your tongue and out your mouth, only to have your heart and mind instantly recognize the timing, meaning, and tone were so far from your intended thoughts? But, as quick as the realization, comes the pain in the eyes of your unintended victim. The sting of pain, hurt, and sadness penetrate the expressions of one who stepped into the path of the verbalization of insecurities and fears. Sometimes when words are spoken, even in the heat of a moment, they do accurately reflect thoughts and intentions. I don't mean to suggest we should all walk around second guessing ourselves when we speak. I far prefer the immediate response, in the moment, than an over-thought, contrived, or rehearsed script.

Side note: I am so bummed I didn't purchase the book Gut Instinct when I was at Books-a-Million today. It was on this very subject. I guess it got me thinking. The author's ideology heavily influenced the recent best seller, Blink. Too good.

Tonight I am contemplating the use of words. So much more goes into a thought than just the word. Tone, timing, and tempo all surround a word, influencing the meaning and feeling expressed. I guess that's more the issue then. I love words, and use them TOO often, both through speaking and writing. I would be wise to reduce the number of words used, and consider more thoroughly the influences surrounding the words.

Though I am not a poet, I do think I will begin walking around with a notebook so I can write things down as they come into my head. Maybe, I will feel less inclined to write and speak in the venues provided through technology (facebook, blogging, email, phone calls). I will be able to write when the moment arises, then upon reflection consider the tone, timing, and tempo that would best articulate my feelings. This tool may not turn me into a poet, but, it may provide the much needed limits on my communication that might make people around me more comfortable. Recognizing my need for interaction and connection with others may infringe on the lives of those around me; I am committed to trying to limit and restructure the tools I use to express myself.

Currently that "restructuring" makes me feel very claustrophobic and confined. Looking at myself under a microscope doesn't amplify the beauty of my nature or character, but rather highlights the flaws and imperfections that I too often want to ignore or deny. I know I am fallible, difficult, "needy" (I don't know why I am using quotations. It may be my desire to keep that awareness at a comfortable distance, rather than claiming it fully.), and that my thinking often doesn't fall into the spectrum of "normal" (see above rationale for use of quotations). Bring on the notebook, and the great poetic renderings of my favorite author, and we will see how God works to make adjustments in my style. Pray for me, and for those around me. (It's not easy struggling in my own skin; not easy for me, or for those around me.)

Trembling

It is late. I should be sleeping. My heart is...trembling. It isn't a feeling I get very often anymore. It has been on the verge of it for some time. But, it is actually hitting this very moment. It isn't the heavy hearted feeling that comes when I am longing for the familiarity of people and the past. It isn't the excitement that comes when I am looking forward to adventures. I could describe it as the mix of those two feelings. But, really, this trembling comes when I am sitting at the feet of my Father and I know He is working in a deep, inexplicable way. I felt it a few years ago. I was praying with a group of young people (3rd to 5th graders) when we were at overnight camp. It was an impromptu opportunity to take advantage of the quiet stillness of the youth after a moving worship experience.

We had finished singing and were ready to dismiss students back to their cabins. I invited anyone who wanted to stay and be prayed with, to stay. More than half of the group stayed. It was a moving, life changing experience for me. It was God, living and breathing through me. I trembled in His presence. I eagerly responded to His lead and I wanted to hear the hearts of those kids. I wanted to pray for their hearts, their futures, their very relationship with the Almighty. To think, God chose me, at that moment, to follow Him into the hearts and minds of these special young people who were seeking Him. My heart trembled in that moment, and it trembles tonight.

But, tonight, I am not at camp, in the midst of candlelight. I am in my living room, with a tree that shines with strings of light. I spent time chatting with a friend, who is so dear to my heart. Knowing that God is in the heart of this friendship, I stand trembling at what He is doing. With awe, excitement, fear and trepidation, I again bow at the feet of my Father and pray how he would use me, and how He would teach me through life's moments. How do I stay awake, alert, and alive? How do I stay close enough to Him to not need or want to be on my own? How do I share His heart when my human heart is fallible?

This trembling is exciting. I love feeling so vulnerable and eager to follow His call. But, along with the excitement is fear. So in this moment, as I tremble with wonder and awe, pondering the magnitude and strength of an Awesome God who even considers me worthy enough to call me "beloved"; I pray for forgiveness. God, forgive me when I have stubbornly rejected and revolted against You and Your ways. When my heart became hardened and unyielding to Your direction, Lord, I ask for Your complete and all encompassing forgiveness. For the moments yet to come, I pray for the hearts and minds of those with whom I interact. May our hearts connect and mingle in ways that God will bless in unfathomable ways. I trust Your goodness, and that You want our hearts be full and joy filled. I pray that my heart will tremble at the love that others show me through their laughter and through their tears. God, make us all vulnerable, like Your son when he was born into this sinful world. In His sweet entry into this darkness, Jesus epitomized the fresh, innocent, and tender disposition with which we are meant to approach You. Breath of Heaven, fill me with your life and love.

Good Day

Sometimes I have one big thought that I am eager to ponder and sift through, but I can't get any part of it out coherently because I don't know where to begin, or how to tie it together. So, today, I will sift through my thoughts that make no sense together, but somehow have made their way into my mind, and given me much to think about.

1. I buckled this evening and finally turned on the heat. It wasn't because I was particularly cold, but, it is supposed to drop to 19* tonight, and that seems pretty chilly. Though I may not be cold now, I am thinking that the morning might be pretty miserable. I did it. The heat is on. The initial smell that comes when the flame is lit and the fan turns on now wafts through the air.

2. My mom thanked me for a fun day. We went to church, finished getting the house ready to host the high school choir students, served 37 youth after they had been caroling for two hours, cleaned up after the fun, went to Julia's children's program, and celebrated Jared's birthday with his family, aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents. We were moving from 7:30am-9:00pm. She thanked me for the fun day. I was nervous that she may be overwhelmed with the crowds of people. But, she was grace-filled and beautiful. I love having my mom here.

3. Julia sang beautifully this evening. She had a solo during the program, and she was amazing. It's hard to explain the pride I have for my children. It isn't that I am proud because I have done something to cause their success or ability. But, rather, I am so proud that they have independently chosen to pursue experiences and activities. They both had straight A's on their report cards, they both performed in A Christmas Carol, took classes at the Abilene Performing Arts Company, and eagerly participate in church activities. Chris and I provide support and the framework (or at least we try) so they can pursue their passions and priorities. They initiate and self motivate to get things done. I am so thankful they both love music. To see my daughter choosing to praise God, to know that she learned that music and lives the words she sings; that gives my heart a peace, a pride, and a place to abide with joy.

4. Singing "Mary Did You Know" this morning in worship was an experience that I will recall for years to come. I stood singing these words of awe and splendor as the composer and poet put together the sentiments that so easily could have been Mary, or any other mother at the first moment of seeing their precious child. I felt it. From my own memory, I knew that place of wonder. The amazement and miraculousness that inundates me at the sight of a newborn child is breathtaking. In sharp contrast to that breathtaking joy, the realization that there are children struggling to breathe on their own was very real this morning. A 4 day old baby girl, Emery, born with a heart defect will undergo procedures and potential surgeries to empower her to take a single breath with ease and comfort. This beautiful little girl lives this very moment with the same potential and innate abilities to do miraculous things. Emery's momma will look in her eyes and feel the same hope that Mary felt when she gave birth to Jesus. How can any mother endure knowing the pain and suffering their children will persevere through? Yet, God in His infinite wisdom and strength empowers each to sustain them through the darkness of the night while bringing hope in the light of each day.

5. Giving is the gift. I saw someone post today the question, "Why do we give gifts to each other at Christmas? Isn't it about Jesus, shouldn't we be giving to Him?" Yes, indeed, Jesus is the gift. The gift God gave to each of us, and the gift which we must accept in order to appreciate and experience. Right? God offers us the gift of His Son, but we must accept and own it before we receive all the glorious blessings that gift has to give. When we accept the gift, we can't help but want to share it. I want to give gifts to those I love, because God loved me so much that He gave me Jesus. In abundance and in deprivation, I know that I am loved and that I have a gift that nobody can ever steal, beg, or borrow. Thankfully, I can share and give it to others without losing any part of the blessing.

6. I can hear the voice of my dear friend singing in my ear, "Breath of Heaven". It is beautiful, full of life, and it is an unexpected gift this day shared. As I sang with the high school youth, and heard the voices of the sweet children in the choir, in the back of my mind, I could hear the voice of my friend. It reminded me of the goodness of giving, the innocence of new life, the preciousness of friendship, the joy of music, and the essence of the season. I am praying this evening that the very spirit of the living God that pours over me will move in miraculous ways in your life. I pray that each of us will see the miracles in the eyes of babies, in the voices of children, in the energy of our youth, and in the enduring love of our Father.

Tough to explain

I am so glad my mom is here. We had a safe, mildly stressful journey. The stress was luckily not with each other, but just with mild external stressors that can't be avoided. Truck is now unpacked. We will do lots of unpacking tomorrow. Looking forward to getting Christmas decorations up.

Keeping this as short as I can given I am exhausted. I have my dad's pillow on my bed now. I have his hand made outdoor plant stand and tv stand. And, I have his wife, my mom. I have always had her, but now, I don't have him. We have reminders of his life, but we don't have him. Because my mom and dad haven't lived near me for the past 19 years, his absence was not realized in my day to day existence. But, now, it seems so much more real. I touched the places that he touched, and now, I have the reminder of who he is in the tangible presence of my mother and his things.

I will be taking time to come to grips with his loss in a way that I haven't been faced with before. In this loss, I am reminded of many other losses, both in the distant and more recent past. I miss my friends, my family, and the security of what I knew. Don't get me wrong, I am so very thankful for the blessings of this new home, and the love I feel so strongly from my friends and the people who have so generously accepted me. I grieve the lost relationships and connections that existed before I moved. Most recently, I experienced a brokenness in a relationship that forced me to realize, again, nothing is certain. Sometimes relationships serve a purpose temporarily, and once the need has passed, the friendship is over. Sometimes, relationships run a course, and then their purpose changes. Sometimes, the pain perpetrated between two people can be so intense that the the brokenness is irreparable.

The comfort tonight is there is redemption and reconciliation in God's time. I have been witness to this great blessing, so I will trust and believe in this hope. If not in this lifetime, in the life to come. Tonight, I will rest knowing that my mom is close and that hasn't been a privilege I have been able to experience in almost 20 years. She is a comfort and I am blessed to be given this gift.

Oh Grandpa, I am not ready

I have avoided writing about my grandfather, because...I just don't know what to say. He is 90+ years old. My cousin emailed us this evening that he is coming to grips with leaving us. "I am ready" are the words that came out of his mouth yesterday when my cousin was with him. My grandmother passed away on Mother's Day, 1997. She struggled with Alzheimer's Disease for years leading up to her death. Rather, my grandfather struggled with the Alzheimer's Disease. So now, 13 years later, he is walking towards his destiny with our Lord.

I am not ready to say goodbye again. I know he is ready. He has good reason to be ready. Father to 3 children, 14 grandchildren, 30+ great grandchildren, and 2 (almost 3) great grandchildren; my grandfather, Brayton, has been a busy man. He was married to my grandmother, Miriam, for over 50 years. He was and is fully devoted to his beloved wife. I am too far removed to know the inner workings of their family life. How they raised their kids, struggled with finances, illness, death, life, frustrations, unemployment, disappointments, their faith, their neighbors (I remember Mrs. Lee and driving up to my grandparents house and seeing the lilly of the valley that lined the side of their house. And, there, Mrs. Lee, would be waving a hello to all of us.), I don't know the details. What I remember, what I understand, is who he gave me.

It would be easy for me to thank my grandparents for my dad, and I most certainly do. I also thank them for my aunt and uncle. They were all shaped by my grandparents. So they are the ones to blame! I say that jokingly, and realistically. My grandparents have quite a legacy to own. I wish I had been a fly on the wall growing up with Miriam and Brayton as parents. Many have said that my grandmother was volatile. Is that a fair description, family? Volatile? I think now-a-days we call that, manic depressive or bi-polar. Just saying, not trying to be offensive. I resemble those remarks quite a lot. My grandfather might have been described as stern, strict, and stubborn. Now-a-days, I think we call that, abusive. I am kind of laughing, and kind of crying. Mostly I am afraid that my cousins and siblings will come after me, since they too might be walking through the genetic mine field of the Deal line, responsible for bi-polar abusers. (Before all the Deals start sending me hate mail, please know that I will begin saying kind things about grandma and grandpa, and about you too.)

Despite the potential dangers I would be subjected to if I were a fly on the wall in the Deal house, I proudly acknowledge that I am a descendant of this crazy clan. My grandmother was known for her fried chicken, potato salad and deviled eggs. Some of us remember the amazing get-togethers at my grandparent's house. Their eat-in kitchen had a huge map on the wall. It was awesome. Their living room had several glass candy jars with lemon drops and cinnamon drops that were sometimes stuck together because the humidity in Indiana just couldn't be fought. Their basement was the wine making capital of Indiana, or maybe just Marion County, or maybe, just of our family. As time went on, and my grandmother fell further and further into her disease, she either forgot she had already added ingredients while cooking, or couldn't remember what the food was supposed to taste like. Everything became so salty. None of us had the heart to tell her it was salty, but wow, good thing they had some wine on hand to subdue the natives from telling grandma that her fried chicken wasn't edible. Or, maybe we were just all excited that she had made a lemon meringue pie for dessert and we would all have that sweet treat to counteract the salt.

Most of us Deals are not known for our subtlety. I loved telling grandpa how I had told my English teacher that I wasn't going to do anymore "busy work". If she couldn't be creative enough to give me something challenging to work on, then I would be better suited in the music room, or in study hall. She escorted me to the hall, and gave me a pass to the music room. She also requested that I not openly defy her again. But, that I wouldn't have to do the busy work. SCORE!!!!! Grandpa was proud of my forthright discussion with this teacher. I think he was proud of each of his grandchildren for having minds of their own. Each unique, each contrary at times, but each was a Deal, through and through.

The Deal trait that I am most proud to carry on, is loyalty. My grandfather was and is fiercely loyal. He stood by his wife; caring for her, feeding her, protecting her, and loving her until the day she died, and even beyond that. His love and commitment to his wife, to his kids, to each of us, is undeniable and worthy of recognition and reward. To be loved by a Deal is to have a partner in life, no matter what, and even if. Grandpa's relationship with grandma was the picture of loyalty and love that we can each only pray to experience in our lifetime. For each moment that we have been saddened by grandpa's choice to hide from life, to give up and let go after grandma died; we must also acknowledge his fierce and unyielding commitment to loving and caring for her, and through that, for each of us all the days of his life. His broken heart was so intense because he had given it all to his family, his wife, his sons, his daughter. I can only imagine that he had just enough energy to breathe in and out for these past 13 years since she died. He had given his all, his everything to her, and into teaching us what it meant to love unconditionally.

I could give you story after story about the memories I have of grandpa, and I guess that is what we have to look forward to when Grandpa does get to go and be with his wife, and with his parents, and most importantly, with his God. We will be able to rejoice in his wholeness. We will be able to see him as a complete person again. Moving out of fear and sadness because of the loss of the man we so wanted him to be, we will be able to put his life in the perspective of its entirety. He loved his family with all he had and all he was. His heart broke beyond recognition upon losing the wife who had given him over 50 years of ups and downs, rages and rewards, battles and blessings. He was a man, with all the flaws that we can all relate. Grandpa's life stands as a mirror to our own. We have to look into the life he walked before us and decide if we will be able to give to others, while accepting defeats that are inevitable. And, we each will be faced with how we will move forward without those we love. I suppose we all fear at sometime in our life that we will lose ourselves and forsake who we have for who we've lost. I can only assume that our grandfather would ask us to look into his life and make the choice to move forward; acknowledging the vulnerabilities of our heritage and gaining strength from one another. I am not ready to look into the mirror yet, but I am willing to give and receive strength from the family and friends that God has given me at this time in my life.

Loss

Today's thanksgiving offerings were sponsored by the letter "L". So many great and wonderful things I appreciate start with the letter "L". I pondered and contemplated contributing the word "Loss" to the list, but couldn't bring myself to add it. It's hard to be grateful for something that perpetrates such intense pain and suffering.

Somethings we celebrate losing. Weight would be a great thing to lose. Losing a dress size, losing a tooth (depending on the reliability of the tooth fairy)are other beneficial losses. However, some losses don't reap such positive results. From personal experience, I can attest to the fact that losing my "cool", my "temper"...not so good. Losing sanity, losing control, losing a softball game, losing a contest, losing a deal; these losses are negative. Though unpleasant, they are generally temporary, painless, and short-term. But, we all know the kind of losses that break hearts, last forever, and leave scars that are anything but short-term.

The loss of family and friends; through death, separation, or circumstances stings and destroys. Though the initial pain of loss leaves an indelible mark on the soul; it's the continued infliction of pain from realizing lost moments, experiences, and realities that hinder the wound from healing. Even as time goes on, and distance separates the living from the lost; a remembrance, a glimpse, a recollection, an inopportune trigger can flood the senses with the pain and suffering all over again. One would think with scar tissue building around the brokenness in the soul, the pain would diminish, the hurt would be less intense. Unfortunately, I have yet to experience that.

My heart breaks for my mom, my friends, my siblings, and my family who will feel the sting of loss triggered by the unrealized moments of this holiday season. I want to make it feel better, to feel easier, and less intense for those I love. But, I too, find my heart struggling to come to grips losses. When I step into that place, where my mind ponders the "what ifs...", I am lost too. Loss visits and takes me on a journey away from where I am. Sometimes, this is a welcome vacation. I know that sounds selfish. I have been given great gifts for which I am very thankful. There is no reason to wander from my present into the world of unknown "what ifs...". But, often times, it's not the unrealized moments that we visit. Loss and I revisit the past experiences that shaped my heart and made me who I am.

I can feel the warmth of looking into the eyes of my dad and knowing that he sacrificed, struggled, and even made terribly stupid decisions on behalf of our family. It feels good to remember the moments of laughter and great joy experienced with a friend with whom I no longer get to share. There is unexpected refreshment that comes from abiding in the places in my heart that are safe, known, and full of life; even if it is the life that is lost. But, the times when loss visits and takes me into the painful regions of the unknown, I feel the wounds bleed. Scabs are cracked and the tender areas of my soul break open. There, loss and I grapple with one another in an effort to stop the pain and bleeding.

I wish I knew how to protect my friends and family from loss. I wish I knew the direction to journey to bring healing and respite from the suffering. I wish I knew how to keep my own heart and mind from walking into the darkness with loss. Avoidance doesn't seem to be the answer. So, I will pray the moments that come, with its triggers that threaten to open the fresh wounds, and the scar tissue of old wounds, will offer some unexpected joy or peace. I suppose that is the gift that "loss" can offer. It allows our hearts to relive the moments that have shaped us, even as we experience the pain of not getting to know of what could have been for those we love and for ourselves. Even as loss steals the potential of relationships and experiences, it can never take who we are because of who God shared with us. I pray living in thanks for the lives that crossed our paths and left light and love will strengthen the muscles of our heart and mind to endure the pain that comes with living in the "here and now"; with all its unexpected triggers that lead to journeys with loss that will continue to open wounds.

Dear friend, my prayer for us today is that the God whose strength and comfort surpasses our understanding and comprehension will abide so fully in our hearts that the pain of loss will bring forth tears of joy as we remember those who so enriched our lives. May the tears that fall fresh, nurture our soul with healing memories and unexpected joys only offered through the remembrance of love shared through moments with our loved ones. May the God of hope open our eyes to see the blessings that can never be stolen or lost. I trust that You, O Lord, will give to each of us the very portion needed to soothe our broken hearts and strengthen our souls for the moments to come. I thank you in advance for the moments that are yet to come when we will experience Your great goodness through our loss. Thank you Jesus.

La, la, la, la, la...

I have typed 2 blogs in the past 2 days. Each one I left incomplete, and then I shut my computer down and they were lost. I imagine they were not been to be in print, but I am frustrated that I didn't save them. So, I will start fresh, with a new thought, a new question with which to grapple.

Ummmmm...I got nothin'.

Really, absolutely nothing. Sometimes I have so many thoughts running through my head that I can't keep them straight or make any sense of them. But, today, nothing. The lyrics from "Anything You Can Do" from Annie Get Your Gun have run through my head non-stop as I was performing at a fundraiser with the Awesome Heather Baker this evening. Despite the fact that the lyrics ran through my head, unceasingly, I still was able to mutilate the song with random brain freezes and lack of focus. Now that the performance is over, I have nothing. Well, I do keep replaying the mistakes in my head. Why did I not sing, "I tell you, Yes, Yes, Yes, I can."? From that moment on, I felt completely dazed. The mistakes we make in one moment; whether observed, acknowledged, or criticized by others, have the potential of distracting and debilitating interaction with the here and now.

Even when I am able to forgive myself for not doing things right; saying words that build instead of break, giving looks that scare and instead of steady; I find my thoughts lingering in the past, giving credence to the ugliness that I desperately want transformed into beauty. Grace so freely and abundantly offered to me through the generosity of dear friends, the love of my family, and the omnipotence of God, can be rejected and rebuked in the blink of an eye.

Sometimes, when I blink, I am able to stay off the backtracking that leads me into paths of destruction of my ego and identity. My identity is built on the love and manifestation of God in me. I know His love, His grace, His hope, and His truth. Each abides within, and each stands guard against the darkness. Sometimes, however, it's easier to open the door and let the sadness and fear wander the halls of my soul. Do you ever feel like that? It shouldn't be easier to live in the brokenness of the past. But, it's what I know. In order to let God reside and reign in my heart and mind, I have to intentionally resign the control to Him. That's what takes the energy, that is the hard part.

For not having any thoughts going through my mind, I sure got heavy there. I am disappointed I made mistakes when I was singing tonight. I am disappointed and sorry I have caused pain, sadness, and distance in some relationships in my life. Each day that passes I have to choose to give God control. Not only do I have to give Him control over my here and now, but of my past, and of my future. So, here's my vow...I will practice harder, and be more focused the next time I stand in front of anyone to sing. I will also thank God for residing in my heart and always seeking me out, no matter where I am in my mind. He always opens the door when I knock. He always forgives, always accepts, and always loves. ALWAYS!

Rosie Ramblings

1. My daughter is a great cook. She made us a pizza, from scratch, dough and all when she was 8. All by herself she made the sauce, and properly assembled the pizza. She even added seasoning the crust that was not included in the recipe. Amazing. However, I just had to go help her make macaroni and cheese, from the box. Really?

2. Privacy signs are helpful. Stayed at a hotel last night and stood for a few moments pondering the "Please do not disturb" sign hanging on the door. Wouldn't it be nice to have one of those that you could tie around your neck when you were having one of "those" days?

3. Some people are a gluttons for punishment. You know those folks? The ones that keep doing the same thing, the result stays the same, and it is always unpleasant. Yet, the perpetrator keeps returning to the scene of the crime thinking the outcome will be different. No matter what is said, no amount of advice offered, or suffering endured, they will continue down the path of pain. OK, I will admit, I may be one of "those" people. Somebody please smack me!

4. No matter how wonderful the voice, no soprano sounds good on Brahms' Von Ewige Liebe after hearing it 75 times. I know this as a fact, from personal experience.

5. I like fancy pants. They make me feel good.

6. I miss my family. They are celebrating my cousin Lori's 25th wedding anniversary. The whole family is there. I contributed a song, which should be super hilarious since it is Shania Twain's "You're Still the One". If you know me, you know this song choice is at best a stretch and at worst, totally inappropriate. I do not carry that style very well. I really did try, and I am trying to not fixate on the laughter that will erupt when my siblings see the video. My cousins will forgive and forget (I hope and pray). But, my siblings will harass me until the day I die. And, yes, even David, the adopted brother who is celebrating with my family, will make fun of me. They will mimic my singing and will make fun of the way I look while I am singing. Let me correct myself, they will make fun of the way I look when I am not singing. Silly grin, trying to look like I am a cool country singer when I am really a refined (hahaha!) opera singer. So, maybe I should be glad that I am not there. But, nope, I still miss them and wish I was there laughing and crying with the whole Deal clan.

7. I talk too much and often have nothing to say. I know this is true. The rantings and ramblings of Rosie often provide very little content to the existence of each day. But as pointed out in #3, I am a glutton for punishment and I am willing to make everyone suffer along with me. Sorry! It's the price you pay of knowing and loving me.

8. 6 Months ago today, my dad died. Enough said.

9. Feet stink. Am I wrong?

10. Bedtime is the most welcome and the most dreaded time of the day. I love the fact that I get to lay in bed, under the covers, warm, cozy. But, I dread what thoughts will come as I drift off to sleep. Though my sleep patterns have become much more consistent, (thanks to strong drugs), I still dread the darkness that creeps into my mind and soul when sleep evades me. I know there are times that God must wrestle with me through the night. But, the darkness is inherently dangerous and threatening. When I can't see what is coming, and I don't know where to go or whose hand to hold; I must face my God and reconcile the heart that I have tried to withhold and hide from Him. But, the light does come in the morning. And the same God who meets me in the darkness is the God that brings the light.

This, I believe...

It has been 3 months exactly since we drove away from our home and friends in Bloomington/Normal Illinois. 3 months doesn't seem like that long ago, but a whole new life has begun in that time. We are the same people we were, and yet we are very different. Our voices, laughs, cries, sighs, coughs, and tones are the same. I wish we could say we looked dramatically different, and though I have lost 20 pounds, I am still the same me. Julia's hair is longer. My hair is shorter. Chris' hair is grayer, and Colin is slightly taller. So what is different?

Our surroundings are different. The sun shines a lot. Today, there were thunderstorms, and I promise you, I haven't heard thunder as loud as I did this morning. The clouds are cottony, wispy, fluffy, patchy, just extraordinarily beautiful. I have new jobs with new friends, students, and places where I belong. We have a different church body with whom to worship. The environment has changed, and we are seeing signs of change within.

I had hoped that this new environment would alter the makeup of who I was, therefore, altering my behaviors. Though this fresh start, new community, and exciting opportunity provides unlimited potential, it doesn't rewrite the past, and it doesn't write the future. It does give me a here and now full of choices. Choosing to ignore or deny my past is a choice. Pretending that I am not a compilation of my past choices and circumstances doesn't mean it's true. However, walking in the shame and disappointment of mistakes made isn't an accurate presentation of who I am either. So, I must choose to recognize my past and the decisions that negatively (and positively) made me into the person I am today. Even those decisions that are viewed by others as bad, or wrong, have given me insight; opportunities to grow, and benefits that only my God and I can incorporate into my life.

I wish a fresh start wiped away the pain and shame of the past. I have to continually acknowledge the renewing, cleansing, and abundant forgiveness and love of Christ. Each day, I beg God to bridge the past with the present. Though the pain I caused was unintentional, the brokenness and sadness I feel threatens the reality of goodness that God would like to live through me. Reconciliation is a two way street. I can not force or shove my way back into lives of those I have hurt. I can live today, this moment with the love and newness of who I am as a result of God's sacrificial love, and His unlimited forgiveness. That acknowledgement means my choices and behaviors will be different. If only it were true that changing addresses, states, jobs, friends, or environments could represent a heart change. How great it would be to draw those long lost friends and heart connected relationships closer to me even though I am farther away? But, no, it doesn't look like that. It isn't the change of external factors in our environment that represent our inner hearts. It is the life actions, the heart's convictions and the corresponding behaviors that signify change.

It has been difficult for me to recognize that my inaction will represent the change that God is making in my life. It is waiting and praying for God's work in relationships instead of me taking control and dictating. It is me fighting my urges to reach out and justify who I am in hopes of forgiveness. That may not be the case for you. God may encourage you to take an action, a stand, a trusting step outside of your comfort zone to signify the change in your heart. Whatever God is doing in your heart, please know that it is His joy and glory which he wants to reflect in you. Whatever choices were made in the past, whatever brokenness is represented in your here and now, are all reconcilable with God's power and goodness. May your choices, and my choices reflect the One who forgives and loves beyond our comprehension and ability. I believe in the abundant hope He offers to reconcile the brokenness in this world, and that I will be an heir to His goodness all the days of my life.

This, I believe.

This, I believe...

I believe that children are our future. Treat them well, and let them lead the way. Let them know the beauty they possess inside. Give them a sense of pride to make it easier. Let the children's laughter, remind us how it used to be.

I am mildly impressed with myself that I remembered these lyrics off the top of my head. (Oh, Whitney Houston, I am sorry that it's been hard for you the past few years.)They not be correct, but I am faking knowing what I am doing these days, so I am not going to double check it. I do tend to believe with the lyrics. Anyone who knows me would have to guess that there would be a "This, I believe..." blog dedicated to kids. I do love them. Not going to lie. Can't deny it. There is a magnet in my heart that draws me to children. I would like to believe they are drawn to me, but sometimes I pounce on them before they have a chance to acknowledge their natural inclinations. That being said, I do think there is an unspoken communication that I share with children. It happens at the mall, at the grocery store, at the preschool, even when driving in the car. If a child and I catch each other's eyes, we lock in, and love each other, for just a moment. These are some of the most gratifying moments of my days.

I am not the sole proprietor of this unspoken language. I know many people who have the magnet that attracts children to them. I haven't decided if kids do this with everyone, and only a few communicate back. Or, is it that only a few adults stop to really see a child? Either way, it is a moment of pure delight and amazement. The connection of being seen and of seeing. I have to remind myself that we are all children, and are worthy and deserving of being seen. There are times when this unspoken language, this connection, transcends age. Older adults, who have seen the passage of time in all its ugliness and joy, they see like a child too. They know that what is before them is an opportunity that is fleeting.

Sometimes, I am so worried about what is to come and what has been, that I forget what is right here. I forget to stop and look into the eyes of the person right in front of me. I am worried that they will see who I truly am, I guess. Or, maybe I am afraid they will see who I was. Maybe, I am afraid that who I am becoming won't be enough or sufficient. For whatever reason, I divert my attention away from what is right in front of me, and I hide from myself and from those in front of me. Children, they don't avoid the present. They are fully engaged in the here, and the now. They want all that life has to offer, and often time so much more. It is a privilege to be intertwined with children because they represent the value and the importance of now. They bring you into the moment by the nature of their being incapable of moving forward without your attention and dedication.

So, too, I find older adults have the ability to live in the moment and appreciate the present in a way that I struggle to grasp. Perhaps it is because they have walked in my shoes and know that moments they let pass them by. Maybe, they recognize they can't go back, and they don't want to go forward without being seen. So they stand, fully present, hand outstretched, grasping my hand. They share the joy or the pain of this moment. In the moment, they validate the present and recognize the value of being right where they are, while they are there. I was at a prayer meeting service the other night and was able to see the faces of those who have come before me, being fully present in prayer for the here and now. It was a humbling experience. To know, these very people struggled with paying bills; raising kids; juggling family life, education, and work; and they were willing to pray for me and for the children who stood before them singing.

I tend to say that I remember kids' names very easily; but grown-ups, not so much. Once they are taller than me, I tend to forget very quickly. I will be praying for that to change. I want to validate each child; and we are all just children. We deserve to be seen, heard, and recognized for our unique abilities. I am thankful for the reminder I see in the eyes of those I meet and who catch my attention and glance for even a brief moment. Some have no idea the path ahead will lead them into places they never imagined and will be fearful to go. Some have seen the passing of time and are willing to pause briefly to shake a hand and nod in recognition of the present moment that brought us together. And, then there are you and I. We will struggle to stop, to glance, to stare into the eyes of those around us. Out of fear, misunderstanding, denial, and lack of awareness we will divert our attention elsewhere and avoid the moment at hand. But, be sure, there will be those moments that confront us with reality, truth and blessings that we can not deflect. We will stare into the eyes of a child, a friend, a co-worker, a parent, a grandparent, a clerk, a bagger, a teacher, a sister, or a brother, and we will be fully present to receive the validation of being seen.

This, I believe.

This, I believe

This, I believe.

Not sure if I have one overarching philosophy, truth or thought that concisely represents what I believe. I know if the phrase were, "These, I believe", I would have no problem coming up with an entire book. In an effort to critically analyze my belief system, I will be blogging a series on the topic. Some beliefs may be just an opinion that is not based on anything other than my own belief in its importance. Other beliefs will undoubtedly be based on experience, teachings, and the moral compass from which I was raised. Feel free to comment with your own thoughts and beliefs. As they are only "MY" beliefs, I am sure you restrain from condemning or criticizing. But, healthy debate and challenges are encouraged and welcomed.

Though this initial belief is trivial in nature, I offer it in good fun and believe it may inspire a rousing discussion which will be much appreciated.

Cinnamon dolce lattes from Starbucks are the best. This is an opinion, so some may debate its categorization of a belief. But, since I have challenged the legitimacy of this statement, by testing and retesting, not only other starbucks lattes, but other cinnamon dolce lattes at other establishments; it retains its categorization as a belief and not just opinion. Of course, others, not preferring the taste of cinnamon, will vehemently disagree with this statement. That is the prerogative of each latte drinker.

I have experienced the "seasonal" flavors, and the tried and true "standard" flavors. The Pumpkin Spice Latte has a strong following, and was briefly considered to be a frontrunner in my pursuit of the best latte . It smells delicious; evoking memories of holiday delights from long forgotten times. This is a unique drink combination. It touches the senses and causes recall of special times with family and friends. The Candy Cane Latte is equally satisfying for the same reason. Perhaps the greatest contender against my belief in Cinnamon Dolce Latte's superiority is the White Chocolate Mocha Latte from The Coffee Hound in Bloomington/Normal, Illinois. The unique presentation with the swirling of white and dark chocolate atop the frothy concoction makes it as visually appealing as it is flavorful. But, taste tests conducted by, yours truly, have confirmed that Starbuck's Cinnamon Dolce Latte surpasses rivals in its smoothness, lightness, and overall flavor.

Though this realization as a "truth" in my life may seem insignificant, I challenge you to ask a similar question in your own life. What do you believe? In the small, insignificant matters of coffee, chocolate, and cheeses, where do you stand? Have you taken the time to discern your tastes and challenge your long held traditions and beliefs? Tastes change, and you may have to re access your commitment to current truths and beliefs. Who knows, maybe a year from now I will find an entirely new latte that surpasses the Cinnamon Dolce Latte's relevance and satisfaction level in my life. As I continue to journey forward exploring my beliefs, maybe I will move this thought on lattes to an opinion of relatively little impact on my life. But, maybe, taking the time to be fully involved in the decisions over lattes, I will realize how to take each moment and become involved. What do I believe? Why do I believe? How can I live out my beliefs? For today, I will start by going to Starbucks and purchasing a Cinnamon Dolce Latte, the best latte. This, I believe.

Just because...part 2 (Will you love me if...?)

Will you love me if...

I tell a lie?
I drink too much?
I sing too loud?
I say the wrong thing?
I don't get A's?
I get fat?
I have a pimple?
I fail to get the job?
I flunk a class?
I miss my bus?
I get a speeding ticket?
I cheat?
I burn the toast?
I sleep through the alarm?
I am a bad friend?
I get angry?
I don't laugh at your joke?
I disappoint you?
I can't get out of bed?
I lose my job?
I forget who you are?
I lose sight of who I am?
I pretend I am something I am not?
I am not what you need?
I ignore the signs?
I fall asleep?
I don't do it right?
I fail?
I lose my temper?
I need more?
I want less?
I dream big?
I cry?
I wish for change?
I make mistakes?
I go the wrong way?
I get lost?

How can you? Why would you? Why should you? I don't have the answers. I imagine my children, my husband, my sister, my brothers, my nieces, my nephews, my aunts, my uncles, my grandpa, my mom and my friends (both young and old) asking these questions, and I don't know my response. I know based on experience that some can't love under these circumstances. And, I understand that choice. They know there are lines that can't be crossed, rules that can't be broken. They have a moral compass that steers them in a direction that enables them to know the answers to these questions without doubt. Though I don't know the answers I would decide. I do know, without a doubt, without a question, what God's answer is.

"Yes, yes, yes, Rosie. I will love you...I will love you, no matter what, even if, and just because. Just because I made you, just because you are mine, I will love you. I will love you, and I will take your hand when no one else can or will. I will pursue you, and I will provide for you everything you need. You will always make mistakes, fail, turn the wrong way. But, you will never be unlovable or unreachable. I will love you enough for you to love others. I will forgive you for the unforgivable, and I will restore you. I will be your heart, when yours is broken. This is not a blank check for you to do your will. It is not an endorsement for you to sin and disregard my dreams for you. It is an endorsement for you to live, to grow, to serve, to feel, to dream, to try. And, in trying, you will fail. I give you permission to make mistakes and to keep trying. You have my permission to love others and to answer their questions with , "Yes, I will."

Just because...Part 1

Sometimes I like to believe that I have value and worth because I have worked hard. I have earned 3 degrees, studied a lot, earned money (and spent money which explains why we have no money), gotten married, had 2 children, and enjoyed the blessings of family and friends. I really have worked hard. I've invested time, energy, and money to acquire education, build talents, and prove worth. I have to admit that I have expected others to prove their worth as well. I know I am not supposed to expect of others. It usually leads to disappointment. Not because there is anything wrong with others, but usually my expectations don't line up with their own expectations of themselves.

I am ashamed at this moment to admit that I expect others to prove their worth. Sometimes, no matter how hard I try, I find myself ranking the worth of others based on what they have accomplished or what they can do, their natural gifts and abilities. I will give credit to one who tries hard, gives their best. I find value in that; sometimes more value in the effort than in somebody with natural talents who don't use them. Hypocrite, that is what I am. I try to fight the inclinations to pass judgement on others and their worth. But more often than not, I reinforce this inclination through my actions, words, and inner thoughts.

For instance, my children, I want them to be productive, caring, and joyful people. Thoug will love them not matter what..., and even if...; I wonder if I share that message through my words and deeds. Do I ask them more about their productivity through the day? Do I ask them what they accomplished? Do I ask them who they talked to and how they got along with them? I ask them all of these things. I show approval or disapproval based on their responses. If they did well on their test, if they got a solo, if they sat at lunch with their friends, or they showed appreciation to their family and friends; I will heap praise and accolades to affirm they have done well and I value their choices.

But, am I not a hypocrite? I say that I love them no matter what..., even if..., and just because. But, I don't heap the praise and acceptance unless they have done what I want them to do. Please know it is not my intention to affirm only those behaviors of which I approve. It is against my natural inclinations to affirm poor habits, bad behavior, or misaligned motives. How can I show them, even if they don't do it my way, that I will love them? I want to show them acceptance without validating ill-advised, unproductive, and harmful decisions. My parents somehow got that message through to me. I never felt like they loved me because I did or didn't do something in particular. However, I did feel like I wanted to do my best, I wanted to prove myself to them, to my family, to my friends. In accomplishment, I could prove my value, my worth.

Rain, Rain, Go Away

Flood Advisories are a common occurrence in the Abilene area. As I understand it, we are in a "bowl". So, I think that we receive water from the higher elevations. The worst rain came when we initially arrived in town. I was in awe of the standing water throughout town. Not exactly sure why it was so fascinating. I just kept seeing the cars drive through the huge puddles and the water going everywhere. Just when I thought, "I am overreacting to this rain situation", our van stalled. Thankfully, it started back up relatively quickly. Today, there is a flood advisory, and a flash flood advisory.

I am not too worried about the weather. It hasn't rained hard today. That being said, I think flash floods occur quickly, with very little warning. Hence, the advanced warning, pre-inclement weather notification. The weather people want us to know to know before we leave the house that the rain may come quickly, and heavily. "Beware", "Be On Guard", "Danger", "Stay Out", "Be prepared to seek higher ground", are the messages communicated through these advisories and notifications.

I would so like to have an advisory/warning for my life. You know, the warnings that would start the day; before words are spoken, actions taken, or decisions made. Like, "Beware of flying negativity, doubt, and false thinking.", "Be on Guard for injustice and hatefulness.", "Danger: Bad attitudes ahead.", "Stay Out: You will lose your cool and end up doing something you will regret.", and perhaps what would be most helpful for knowing, "Be prepared to seek Higher Ground." I would be so excited to have these warnings, the advisories. Perhaps I should assume these things, regardless of the day. Aren't we all bombarded by negativity, doubt, injustice, hatefulness, bad attitudes, raging tempers, and need for Higher Ground. I can look out the window and see the looming clouds, the gray dark gloomy skies and know that I should take precautions. Grab my umbrella, put on a raincoat, and be alert for rising water.

There are cues, signs, and visual indications that bad weather is possible. I see darkness in this world before I even walk out the door. The bickering of children, the status updates on facebook that give warning to the pain and suffering that this world heaps upon good and loving people. There are signs on the news, on the radio, and in our own families that are sirens, flashing lights, dark clouds, and pouring rain, They are the inevitable indicators of a lost world, a broken humanity. It is a heartbreaking reality. A reality of which I pretend to be ignorant. When I walk knowingly into the rushing water, I would like to have an excuse, such as, "I didn't know any better." It will make my cry for help seem more genuine and urgent.

I guess that is my general reason for staying ignorant. I want the excuse. But, regardless of my reason, the truth is, I do know and am educated about the darkness, both from the clouds and from our humanity. Knowing this, I will have to seek Higher Ground ALL the time. Not just when the warning is scrolled on the bottom of the screen or prompted on the radio. It will need to be my constant, unyielding search each moment of each day. For those of us who like to remain ignorant, to maintain our excuses, I could leave this analogy vague and inconclusive. We could both walk away with the vague awareness that if it rains, or if life presents dark moments, we need to stay above ground and out of the danger. But, I don't want to live in ignorance about where I need to go when life is too dark, stormy, cloudy, or altogether disastrous. God=Higher Ground. There is no excuse now. God offers the only ground that will be able to provide safety and protection when the waters of life start to rise. I do realize that he can not give us the cloud to float us out of the danger. But, He does give us the confidence to walk through the storms knowing that He is always with us. He doesn't keep us from getting drenched, or wading into rapids of rising water.

So be on guard, beware and look for Higher Ground at all times. We are not going to be alone in the torrential down pours, nor will be abandoned in rising waters.

If the walls could talk

My son, Colin, read this poem to us this evening. He wrote it as an assignment in his 6th Grade Language Arts Class. It is very special. It makes me very proud to be his mom, and to be my dad's daughter.

It seems like only yesterday he left for Vietnam, says his walls.
He had four children, says the couch.
He hasn't seen them much since he moved. He has been so sick since he got cancer.
He had three dogs, but one of them died from old age.
He loved to cook, says the worn out stove.
He loved to eat, but he never did gain wight.
He was over seas during the war.
He was a Christian, says the fairly worn out Bible.
He was very young when he died. He was only 63 when he couldn't fight cancer any longer, say the empty pill boxes on his bedside.
His wife feels lonely without him. The grand kids miss him.
Everyone misses him, says the closet.
He always has a lot of flowers at his grave.
I hope to see him in heaven, say the dogs.
He was a very good man, says the bed.
He was an honorable man, and I was glad to be his pet, says the youngest dog.
He rests in Indianapolis, and I am very glad to be moving their soon, says the older dog.
He was as sweet as sugar, says the flour.
What are you talking about? He is a stubborn donkey, says the sugar.
Once I slipped on the the slippery floor and chipped. That gave him a sly smile, says the plate.
He is now in heaven.
He will be well taken care of there says a lizard who stays close to the house.
Rest in peace, says the house.

Ah, my precious, sweet, PRS'ing boy. You brought me to tears. I am so thankful that you shared this poem with me. Your grandfather is slyly smiling, and very thankful that you knew him so well.

Breathing

Sometimes, breathing takes more effort than it should. You know those days? When taking in air feels like it is choking you? It's not supposed to feel like that, is it? I am pretty sure that breathing is one of those involuntary actions that is meant to bring relief when considered consciously, not cause pain or suffocation. But, I am really thinking that breathing in and out over this past weekend has taken more effort that it should have.

Maybe it's because, in an effort to hold my tongue, I had to gulp air in instead of inhale in a very easy, unconscious manner as God intended. I felt all weekend that if given the chance, I would use the air in my body to unleash a fury of words on a family member who was testing my patience and gentleness in every manner possible. I initially believed that the effort to push me to the edge was unconscious on her part. Who would intentionally want to cause such discomfort and uneasiness on anyone, let alone a family member. Wait a minute, scratch that question. Who better or more likely to vomit anger and bitterness upon than a family member? Family can't disregard or run, they are required to stand in the line of fire and accept the the benefits and the deficits of being a member of the family. If done to a stranger, they may be put in their place, or even worse, be put 10 feet under with the same wrath in which they were instigating.

Enough of the vague references, if I am to be honest with you, I will have to share the reality of the weekend's unpleasantness. The in-laws were in town! Yes, the in-laws. Does God have a book of the Bible dedicated to the pain, suffering, and discord that the IN-LAWS? Better yet, what about a book on the grace that must be called upon to deal with the in-laws? I am sure many can offer their wisdom, but can any explain how to get air into my body without it literally causing pain while dealing with the in-laws? Let me be clear, so that the in-laws who read this know I am not referring to them. Chris' parents were in town this weekend. So, my angst, frustration, confusion and disbelief is directly related to just them. Chris' parents have raised 3 beautiful children, and I am lucky to be married to a great man that I can thank them for raising. He has unyielding loyalty to his family, friends, colleagues and students. The behavior of his parents is not representative of their children, so I can only assume that there is much more going on in their lives than we are privy to. I am sad that we don't get to know their hearts better so we can love and accept them for who they are, instead of the actions that we must ignorantly interpret. It can't be easy. We see them only 3-4 times a year. We have struggled and attempted to walk with dignity through trying times. They see the new place we are in, and they have heard the difficulties we have experienced in getting here. There hearts must have broken time and time again knowing how hard it has been for their son and their grandchildren, and even me.

Some very uncharacteristic behavior, including physical interactions, verbal assaults with critical, cynical, and sarcastic currents, as well as outright disrespect were offered in full doses throughout the weekend. From being grabbed by the arm, having my face grabbed in attempt to get my attention, to being told that I have not put my family as a priority; my mother-in-law made the point very clearly that I was not her favorite person. In fact, she outrightly told me, and Chris, that I was not important and that my needs were secondary to the needs of her son. Duh! Spoken like only a mother protective of her baby boy could venomously speak. She challenged me to consider my behaviors and justify to myself whether I had put her son first, or at least attempted to. I think she was looking for a reckoning! (We spoke of God'sreckoning with Job in Sunday School class today. Look, I was paying attention, and I am using it in my own tale.) She was ready to lay into me, and share what she had been carrying around in her heart and mind all weekend, if not the past 19 years that Chris and I have been a couple. Those of you who know me, know that I am not afraid of these moments, and sometimes even enjoy them. I like the discord that conflict brings, mostly because it will lead to harmony and understanding.

But, given the emotional upheaval of the past year, I was incapable of engaging in the moment and I think that really upset my mother in-law. She was looking for a battle, and in the past I would have eagerly engaged. But, I have seen life differently since my father died in May. Sometimes I gave my energy away to people, circumstances, moments that didn't deserve my attention. I did it selfishly; because it felt good to have the adrenaline rush that discord often empowers. I did it unknowingly; because I didn't realize I needed that rush. I did it ashamedly; because I thought somehow if I proved my point, if I could out-argue my opponent, I was somehow "better". In my own defense, I also did it because God especially equipped me to speak. I am quick and I am articulate, sometimes to a fault. I don't say that because I need to boast or build myself up after cutting myself down. I say it because I am tired of making excuses and apologizing for who God created me to be. But, I am learning that I don't always enter into situations and interactions fully aware of God's timing and discernment.

I didn't feel the need to defend myself. There was nothing to defend. I apologized for hurting her, and I asked for forgiveness. I then went about my business of caring for my family. When the weekend came to an end, more aggression was offered as she voiced her anger about our family's decision to visit friends in Illinois at Halloween, and our indecision about our holiday plans. Though we did commit to spending one of the upcoming holidays with Chris' side of the family, I voiced our decision to consider my mom's needs, my side of the family's needs since this will be our first season without my dad. This obviously was not what she wanted to hear. She was angry and hurt. Certainly not our intention, but I can see that she would be disappointed. Many hurtful things were said as she expressed her disappointment with our priorities being on our friends, and not on the family. (Side note: I don't think she realizes that if I don't get to see my friends in Illinois face to face, live and in person, she will have a lot more to worry about in regards to our priorities. It is in every one's best interest, and my own mental health and stability to be able to go to see my friends in Illinois and my family in Indianapolis. She would have to watch her husband be driven crazy by his lunatic wife if I am unable to stay connected with those who have meant so much to our family.)

Let me wind this down so I can pay attention to my priorities as they return from church. It is hard to breathe sometimes. It is hard to get air in and out when you feel like you are drowning in your inabilities to meet expectations. Maybe it is just me, but I have a feeling that at one time or another, we all struggle with breathing and allowing the air to fill us up, instead of suffocate us. I found myself there this weekend, and I know there will be times ahead. So what do you do? What did I do?

I prayed. I cried. I communicated my discontent on face book. I called my mom. I wished for my dad. I got angry with my husband. I tried to protect my children. I called my friends. I went to church. I cried some more. I breathed through the pain and the contempt that I was feeling at being unable to share myself with these people who are so important to us. I grieved, and I believe that the spirit grieved within me. We grieved together for the pain they must be feeling to be so hurtful to those they love. We grieved for the detachment that is inevitable when judgment and bitterness become the response to relationships between family and friends. I am finding it easier to breathe this evening, but the tears that I have been holding back are flooding down my cheeks. I wish I could go back and isolate the moment that hurt my mother in-law so I could make it right. This weekend has brought back many painful moments that I would like to go back and isolate in hopes of correcting and making right. That isn't an option. So I will grieve the brokenness in this moment, and I will grieve the brokenness of other relationships that I miss and want to reconcile. Waiting for God's time, and the patience to accept, forgive, and love even in the midst of the pain of broken relationships. Most of all, I am hoping and believing in God's perfect peace and comfort.

Joy in the morning

Just a quick note to pour out a bit of the thoughts that are rambling through my brain. It's been so good being with my mom. I enjoy hearing about her days, her job, and her hopes for the future. There are glimpses of her heart that make me want to cry as she shares the sadness of being without my dad. It hasn't become real to us as we didn't get to see him too frequently. We know he isn't here, but we haven't felt the loss because our daily life hasn't been too disrupted. It seems a bit unfair that my mom should carry the burden of this loss all on her own. But, none of us can bring him back, and none of us can fill the hole that has been left.

I wonder how it came to pass that we stopped being a part of my dad's everyday life. It seems like a natural progression, but now it doesn't seem right. There have been many people who were part of my everyday interactions. Some were there for only a short time, and others were by my side everyday. Even when I didn't get to see them, or talk to them, they were with me. Friends, co-workers, family, and even the Starbucks worker at the corner shared in my everyday activities. I think my dad was still a part of each day. I talk to my mom almost everyday. He must have heard about what was going on with all of his children. We all knew a little of what was going on with him. My parents didn't want to share the intensity of the illness and how it had stolen so much of who my father was. He has been a part of each season of my life, and he still is.

Now, my family, (Chris, Colin, Julia, and I) are trying to create connections to our new life here in Abilene. There are still many friends and family members who are still a part of our everyday. My heart breaks for several relationships that have already seemed to lose relevance, simply because we left. I knew it would happen, but I am surprised by many of the losses. Life does continue to move forward, doesn't it? And, as much as we want to hold tight to people and relationships that have meant so much, it is inevitable that some will fall away out of sheer lack of proximity. Of course, the realization doesn't ease the pain. I don't miss these people less because I understand the reasons why. There are several that I still don't understand, and I guess the pain intensifies knowing that I can't articulate why our friendship was lost.

Having my mom come to visit means so much. She has caught a glimpse of where we are and how we live. She now knows the grocery store, the coffee shop, the gas station, the restaurants, my bedroom, my kitchen, and my backyard. When I share, she will know many of the places and people that I refer to. I know not everyone will be able to see this time in my life. We are meant to go forward through this season clinging to one another, our family. It is good. But, I would be lying, hiding, and denying all that I am to not admit to the sadness and pain of not having my friends and family intricately involved in our life right now. I am catching glimpses of my friends' lives and loves, but I don't get to be a part of where they are and who they are becoming.

My mom will leave the day after tomorrow. We have both begun crying about that reality. I don't want her to go. I know it is selfish of me. It is hard letting go, and I simply don't want to have to let go of anything else. I will, and I will be fine. She will be fine. We will be fine. I know this and I am thankful that I have friends who will remind me of this truth when I forget. My dad's birthday is Friday. Sara's birthday is Friday. It is hard knowing the emptiness left in the lives of those who will forever grieve the loss of these people. It is hard knowing the pain of all those who have lost loved ones. I won't linger long on this because it is simply too painful. It literally hurts to know that these people aren't in this world anymore. But, I have hope unending that I will, we will, see our loved ones again.

I know I will see them, so I have security and comfort. As I write this, I believe that I have to take that hope, that assurance into my daily walk. I have to trust that God will give us joy in the morning even as we don't know what the morning will hold. It is vital that I live in this truth. I was going to say, "I don't have the same certainty for those of us who continue to walk in this world". But, as soon as that thought came into my mind, I realized, that is so not true. I do have certainty that I can claim. Joy will be in the morning, regardless of what the day brings. I will be with my dad, with my friends, with my family. I want to share this hope with those who don't know a loving God who does bring joy. I haven't done it all right. In fact, I have done very little right. But, my God, your God, still loves me (and you) and accepts us despite our inabilities and failures. There will be joy in the morning because I will forever have forgiveness and love in the sight of my Father. So, I will be sad, lonely, and broken tonight. He is with me in this moment. And, you too, can be broken and hurting right here and now. Confused, deranged, deluded, lost, sinking, stubborn, inconsolable, and hopeless are not places that God ignores or detours. He will be with us in these broken places, and He will endure the darkness with us. In the morning, if nobody else is there and/or if everyone has run to your side, He will be there. Thank you Jesus!