Owl's Head Lighthouse, Owl's Head, ME

Friday, October 7, 2011

Days of Prayer

Some days are simply days of prayer. Days when all you can do is lay on your face before the One who made you. The requests of your heart spill out as a muddled mixture of uttered and unuttered pleas. Yearning for the comfort and knowledge of the One who loves us, we place ourselves before Him awaiting the blessings He has in His store.

These are the days in the misty times of life.

"Likewise, the Spirit also helpeth our infirmities: for we know not what we should pray for as we ought: but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered." Romans 8:26

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Misty Times Of Life

With the loss of my husband's job, we are forced to look forward in a new way, and probably in a new place. The emotions that come during a time like this are raw and personal. There is, however, a desire within to share some of it because I know so many others have or will go through this situation. So as simply as I am able, I will share our story over the next several weeks, with the hope that it will encourage someone else, and that it will give me purpose in another misty time of life.

In the past, I have written of the misty times of life. They are the times when nothing is clear. Our plans have fallen through, and we lose our ability to stay focused. They are times that are not understood until much later when we look back in the perfect vision of hindsight.

I cannot say that we did not see the inevitable coming. We knew this job would not last forever....nothing does. There had been signs for some time that we should begin looking toward our future. Our prayers have been frequently requesting direction for a future that was becoming increasingly unclear. My husband prayed, "Lord, I'm not as bright as I might be. Send me a neon sign if it is time for me to move on."

The Lord answered that prayer the day he was called into the office and notified that his position was "being eliminated". Ok. Moving on it is. The next questions immediately take center stage. Where? How? What now?

I found breathing to become increasingly difficult as the last days of work, and paychecks, came closer. Yes, I believe the Lord has a plan and will not leave us alone. He has promised to meet our needs. Yet, there is much in this situation that takes me back to the past. A past that hurts. A past of financial burden. A past of loss.

Please Lord, don't let us go back to the past. It hurts too much. The burden of being unable to pay our bills is too much. Please, Lord.

The thought comes quickly that maybe I must revisit the past once again, that there are times when we are given the opportunity to go back and do it again. With more experience, more maturity and more trust....a chance to go back in order to move forward.

My task in this as a wife and mother is in some ways easy....trusting. Trusting my Lord, and trusting the man he gave me. But in so many ways, this is the most difficult task of all. There really is very little I can do to affect the outcome. My task simply affects the day to day.

I must continue to be the symbol of life within my home. Each one must eat. the house must be cleaned. Recently emptied boxes must again be packed with the tidbits of our life. Children must be taught....and loved. My husband needs my love and support. These are the things I can do, and must. Most of all I am needed to be the face of security and love to my children.

The future is unclear. I do not know what we will face, but I pray that my focus will remain on the only One Who holds tomorrow. That my faith will be stronger tomorrow than it is today. That I will continue to hope, and that I will pass that hope onto the children God has given us. That my children will learn faith through the work God is doing in our lives today.

"Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed? (For after all these things do the Gentiles seek:) for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things." Matthew 6:31, 32

"If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father, which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?" Matthew 7:11

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

The Gift of Hope

I was challenged today to look at the practice of hope.

This challenge could not have been timed more perfectly. For life feels a confusing mix of hope and hopelessness. These days when one stage of life is ending, and, yes, another beginning, but....we in our short-sightedness cannot see the picture of the new life. For us it is simply an unknown.

Life is looking very much like a series of heart-wrenching disappointments. For just when we begin to breathe normally again, another comes and takes our breath away.

Indecision, uncertainty....they weigh heavy. I feel my age, and more.

In the midst of this, I find a germ of truth buried within my soul. Hope.

It is this that allows me to wake up each day and move forward. It is this that keeps me from shutting down. As badly as I want to pull the covers over my head and shut out the pressures, there is a tiny bit of hope within that causes me to think that maybe this is the beginning of something better.

Hope is like that. A beautiful gift given to us by our Heavenly Father Who must take us through the trials, but Who never leaves us without this gift meant for us to unwrap.

No matter how hard it becomes, you will always have hope, for you are His.

Look forward, Child. If you could see, there would be no need of hope.

Continue to hope.

"Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." Hebrews 11:1

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Introduction To Gratitude (Ann Voskamp)

For those who have followed me into this quiet place for any amount of time, you will know that I do not generally use this space as advertisement. Today, however, I need to share an opportunity with you and felt it deserved a post of its own.

We all have people and situations that inspire us in our own lives. Ann Voskamp is such a person for me. Her writing touches my heart every time I take the moments to visit. Her purpose speaks to my soul....Finding beauty in the every day through a heart of gratitude.

A farmer's wife, a homeschooling mother, a sinner saved by grace and a writer with the heart of an artist. Ann is the person I would most like to meet and visit over a steaming cup of coffee.

Her book, One Thousand Gifts: A Dare To Live Fully Right Where You Are, is her story of gratitude. CBD has listed this book as their special deal of the day. It is an unbelievable price of $8.49...Today Only!

I believe this author is worth investing in. Her gifts of expression point me to the face of my Saviour each and every time I visit her writing.

Take the time to check it out and take advantage of this deal. Who doesn't like a deal?

Monday, September 26, 2011

Life's Words

There are times that words cannot adequately convey the thoughts and feelings of the heart. I doubt that they ever truly capture the intensity of feeling we as humans experience. There is, however, little we can do but use the system of communication already in place.

Life, in all it's complexity, is expressed as well as possible, one word at a time.

Life, for a mother, is lived one day at a time. Intense emotions are set aside as the pressing needs of those who depend upon us are before us. We feel deeply, but we see and remember that our feelings are less important than the daily needs of our children.

They must feel secure, even when we feel insecure. They must be protected, even when we feel under attack. They must be provided for, even when we feel abandoned. They must feel loved, no matter what.

This is the life of a mother. To do less, would be to abandon the life to which we are called. And yet, this so often results in our own lonliness and sense of isolation. Our hearts ache for comfort and connectedness.

Oh that we would remember that there is One who holds us when we feel insecure, protects us when we are under attack, provides for us always and loves us, no matter what. He is our Example.

At the end of the day, when their needs have (hopefully) been met, I sit and attempt to express the feelings held in through the day using feeble words and imperfect phrases. The words are weak, but the emotions are universal. Because of this, I know that every other mother can understand the truth herein.

We hold ourselves together for them, but we must express our feelings or die. I feel sadness, but feel perfectly blessed. I am tired, but know "His strength is perfect". I am anxious, but know that my God, my Lord, will not leave me destitute.

My day is over, but tomorrow is another.

"I laid me down and slept; I awaked; for the LORD sustained me." Psalm 3:5

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

My Beauty

In the beginning we are attracted by the beauty of the babies. Their perfectness draws us to them, and our God-given, mother-sense kicks in. As newborns we soak in their softness and their scent. What mother does not lay her face in the infant hair to absorb the aroma and feel overwhelming mother-love for this little bundle of perfection?

Fast forward 18 months and we realize that the soft, sweet-smelling stage came and went and we are left with rough, stinky and....well, lets face it....sometimes just plain evil.

Everything we envisioned motherhood to be falls away and reality takes over. That could be why so many mothers cannot remember those years when questioned later by those same children.

"What was I like, Mom?"

Uuummm...Cute, I guess. Yes, I know you were cute.

"But what was my first word?"

I'm pretty sure it was Mama. Yes, that's right...quite sure it was Mama.

"What did I like to do?"

Well, you liked to...play.

"Play what?"

On a very clean, quiet day sometime during your childhood we sat and calmly looked at books and we smiled and laughed and could have been in a beautiful picture on someone's wall.

[Oh, don't be silly....you liked to play in poo. Paint doornobs with desitin. Smash flies on the window. Jump in mud and smear it on my steps. Paint the table with spaghetti sauce. Eat dried up "raisins" from the rabbit cage. Flush all the clean toilet paper down the toilet until it plugs, but leave piles of used TP lying around the toilet. You liked to play with bugs/worms and creatures of all disgusting types. Yes, its coming back to me now.]

No, it doesn't take long into our journey of motherhood to realize that the beauty we love can easily become buried beneath the reality of motherhood. The perfection we long to create for ourselves and our families is missing, and we suffer with guilt.

Maybe, just maybe, the beauty isn't as far away as it might seem. Maybe, in the midst of the stinky, disgusting life of a mother are moments more beautiful than words can express.

During the muck of life, those children bond to us in ways that they will never bond with another human being. There is no one else that will go through the stinky parts of life with them and love them still.

An unexpected hug, a quick uplift of eyes full of appreciation, a moment of quiet with just two and a story....these cannot be measured. They cannot be planned. They can only be experienced.

That is my beauty.

"Lord, open my eyes to the beauty of being a mother. Please don't allow me to be so distracted with the ugliness of life that I miss the unbelievable beauty all around me. Thank you for all that being a mother means. Thank you for my children."

Thursday, September 1, 2011

The Woman's Standard

There is a standard to be met....for each of us who reaches for the goal of the virtuous woman. The woman we know our Lord longs for each of us to be. While we may laugh at each other's stories of ineptitude, for we all have them, we should be sobered to realize the enormity of our task.

The stories we share should not simply be an anesthetic to our own failures. Dwelling in guilt would be wrong, but patting each other on the back and accepting less than our best is also wrong.

As we gather together in church, Bible studies, jobs, homeschool groups and just as friends over coffee, may we encourage each other in the work. Yes, remind ourselves that we are not alone in our situations, but also assist each other as we reach to do better tomorrow.

Our standard should not be the status quo. Accepting less than our best is to diminish the value of the job the Lord has placed before us. Let there be among us, standard-bearers. Those who dare to strive for excellence in their homes. Those who are willing to pick up after days of discouragement and do better tomorrow. Those who are willing to block out the clamor of society that says something "has to give" and it might as well be our homes. Those who are willing to reorganize priorities in order to better reach for the standard.

Women of God, laugh together, cry together....and hold each other up to the standard He has placed before us.

Our families will excel as we give them our best. We will be more content as we meet His standard for us. And most of all, our Lord will be pleased as He sees our lives transformed into His likeness, for never was less than His best given for us.

"Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies." Prov. 31:10

"Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus: Who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God: But made himself of no reputation, and took upon him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men: And being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross." Phil. 2:5-8

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Bending In the Wind

The last day I was here was on the day we call a Memorial. It was the beginning of the summer season and a time to remember the sacrifices of others.

This year, instead of finding ourselves led into a summer season we were led into a season of change. Moving is never easy, and as much as I planned a quick and seamless move (we were only moving an hour away), it turned into continual upheaval for three months.

I had envisioned neatly stacked boxes in the middle of the house for no more than two weeks as I quickly painted and prepared every room for occupancy. Each person would have a custom designed space, and every room would be company worthy in no time.

When will I learn?

Life cannot be planned, for it never will fit into the mold we attempt to squeeze it into. It is Life....moving, breathing, changing Life. We must accept it as it comes. We can fight it and break or bend with the winds of change.

Each time I try to fight it I am left with brokenness. My heart hurts when my plans fall apart once again.

Yes, Father, you know best what I must go through to bend me to your will. Teach me to bend without breaking. Allow me your grace to bend and continue the growth you want for me. Even as today I look at boxes still full and walls unpainted may I remember to bend in the wind. You have planted me where you will. The rest will come if I can only trust you through this phase.

"But I trusted in thee, O LORD: I said, Thou art my God. My times are in thy hand;" (Psalms 31:14,15a)

Monday, May 30, 2011


Today is about remembering the heroes.

Memorial Day, 2011.

There is so much to remember.

For you cannot remember only one generation. The story of freedom is as old as the world.

But snapshots can be taken of individual generations, and much can be learned from those pictures. In each generation, there are those who willingly give their all to fight for freedom. Those who put on a uniform and bear arms. Those who return from their battlefield, dressed, not in combat fatigues, but draped in a flag. The flag for which they fought covers them, in their final sleep.

And waiting, for that return, are the others. Those who courageously stayed behind, to carry on the thankless jobs at home.

It was women and children who stayed behind to run the factories, to farm the land, to roll the bandages, to nurse the sick and wounded and to train the next generation. During each battle, they have carried on through it all. Never knowing if they would see that soldier again, they did what they could. They did what he would have done if he had been there. Each job they did hoping that in some way it would help the one they thought of every day.

Today's wars weigh heavy. The price is high. We weep for those who will not experience the joys of freedom again on this earth. We thank every one that has been willing to strap on the boots of combat and for those who have had to watch those boots walk away.

We salute each and everyone of you.

But I also salute those, who today, continue in the jobs at home. Some wish that they might have the opportunity to fight. For whatever reason the Lord did not ask that of them, and He had another plan. For the battle is fought here too, as it has been in every generation.

Someone must plant and harvest; someone must continue to manufacture supplies; someone must continue to train the next generation. By doing these things we ensure the fight is not in vain. We must work, worship and weather the storms so that the fight for freedom continues. And continue it must.

The heroes are remembered, whether you have worn the uniform of combat, or simply the clothes of honest working people. Thank you to each one who is and has been faithful to do the job the Lord has given you.

We salute you all.

Saturday, May 28, 2011

Five Minute Fridays.....Forgetting

Okay. So I have missed the Five Minute Fridays again, but I am going to do my best to participate. It will just be a 5 Minute Saturday!

I must thank my friend, Leebird for alerting me to this opportunity to grow. Visit her at http://prayergifts.blogspot.com/ Her posts always inspire and encourage. Even though we have never met in person, I know that I would love to sit down and chat with her over a cup of coffee.

The topic for this week was Forgetting.

There are many times that I find myself bemoaning my tendency to forget. As a mother, I believe I have lost far too many of my brain cells. With each child a few more disappeared into the "Great Unknown", along with everything that happened to be stored within them.

There are times when I feel great sadness as I try to remember details about my kids early years, and I just come up empty. Why can't I remember it all? Mother guilt stomps all over yet again.

But there is another forgetting that is harder to do. Paul spoke of it in Philippians 3:13, 14 "....but this one this I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus

Forgetting the things before....the hard things, the hurtful things, the things that hold me back from life today. It takes concentrated effort to let some of these go. They haunt my mind, yet, I must forget.

There is one goal, and that is the high calling from my Lord. He calls, and I hear.

I look back at failures behind, and my steps falter.

He calls again. I look forward to Him and cry for grace to let go of what is behind.

He answers, and I step forward, knowing His grace is sufficient, even for the forgetting.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

The Distance Between A Dream and A Reality

When I was young, the dreams I dreamed were big....maybe enormous. Weren't yours?

I am not sure when the dreams stopped, but little by little, the disappointments of life drained the life out of them. The things that once brought feelings of excited anticipation, now became missed opportunities and perceived failures.

Each choice along the way seemed to have broken another bridge to the dreams. The realization brings feelings of hopelessness.

Looking back I can see that the dreams I dreamed were solo dreams, and that in itself becomes a problem when two lives join as one. Frustration results as we see our early dreams pass away, and we do not learn to dream together. More and more we can begin to see each other as the reason we can never reach our anticipated potential. Questions rise in our minds about whether we may have made the biggest mistake of our life. On this course, our relationships are destined to fall apart and become yet another unrealized dream.

I don't suggest that all of our early dreams were wrong, in fact, they are what brought us to today. But as we mature, our dreams should also mature. And if we have been joined with another by God, then can we begin to dream the same dream? I don't mean sacrificially giving up everything we want to support another's dreams. What I mean is, our dreams actually changing to be more complete.

For we have not passed our time to dream. We have reached the time to realize our dreams.

And if in our current state we lack inspiration to dream, we have only to ask the Father, the giver of all gifts, for the gift of a dream. One that we can reach for in our today.

Many live in the past and dwell on dreams that have become nothing but transparent webs. While beautiful, they lack the ability to have substance. When we reach for them, they fall away.

Today, I look at a dream, and I smile, for it is not a solo dream. It is more complete, for I am dreaming along with the one I love. I don't have to mourn the lost dreams any longer. I have one who holds my hand and walks toward the dreams with me.

It is perhaps the greatest gift He could have given me in this life. With the exception of my salvation, the gift of a dream is the most vital to the heart of this dreamer.

By letting go of the gossamer threads of early dreams, I can see the bridge that had been hidden by the webs all along. The bridge from the dream to my reality. It is closer than ever before, and I am so much more ready to realize it.

"...when that which is perfect is come, then that which in in part shall be done away. When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things."

"For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known." I Cor. 13:10-12

As we journey on, may we accept and pursue the more perfect way. What wonder we will know when we finally cross that bridge from our present imperfect dreams to an eternity of perfect reality!

"But if we hope for that we see not, then do we with patience wait for it." Rom. 8:25.

Friday, May 20, 2011

Five Minutes

I read a post by a friend today in which she was carrying on a blog challenge. The challenge is called Five Minute Fridays. Taking the inspiration topic and writing with abandon for five minutes and linking back to the previous blog.

I was enticed by the concept, but the problem was that I couldn't seem to find the five minutes to write. Caring for my own children as well as those I have agreed to care for for a time, as well as the job of packing up our home for a pending move, I find little uninterrupted time to know my own thoughts, say nothing of sharing them.

I abandoned the effort.

As the day winds down and quiet comes again, I go back to that idea. I need something to keep me writing. Just writing for the sheer joy of writing. Maybe I don't need to worry about making every sentence perfect all the time. Sometimes just giving voice to "mundane" thoughts is enough. It may mean nothing to anyone else, but for me it gives substance to a world of untranslated thoughts.

And so I write. Nothing dramatic or even interesting....just rambling.

The burdens of life weigh heavy, but for a few short moments I feel released. I feel connected to the person I am on the inside. The duties of motherhood sometimes drown out the soul of the mother. I must fight that, or my heart will not be connected to my children the way it should be.

Mothering must allow for soul expression or it simply becomes a list of duties.

I do not want to look back, years from now and realize that I never became connected to my children because I never connected with myself.

We are so much more than mere mortal beings with our material connections to this world. Our spirits are just as real as are our bodies, and they must be fed. He created us this way for a reason.

Passion is birthed, not in the body, but in the soul. Connecting that to my daily life can only result in a richer experience today.

My family needs that in me.

I take the five minutes.....so that I might better give them the rest.

Monday, May 9, 2011

The Little Girl

The day after Mother's Day. The twelfth Mother's Day since I held my first child in my arms. The 37th Mother's Day since I was first held in my mother's arms. If only those numbers could be the method we use to rate our motherhood. If years of experience alone could recommend us, then with each successive year we would be becoming living examples of mothering excellence.

Instead, as every living mother knows, we are simply flawed beings entrusted with the care of others. For many of us, it means constant mother guilt. Every decision we make becomes reason for second guessing. Some of it is deserved, for we know where we fail. I do not suppose that this guilt is new to the current generation. How must Eve have suffered with guilt that we can scarcely understand?

There is another guilt, however. One that comes from our own insecurities. Insecurities we have carried with us since we were the child.

And that is the world in which we live. Each of us that lays claim to the title of mother, lives somewhere between being a responsible, mature adult and being a scared little girl. Living between a rational understanding of life and an internal sense of what has been lost. Nothing is simple. Good days and bad days collide with alarming regularity.

At what point, do the good days, when we are the responsible mother figure, outnumber the bad days, when we are ruled by the insecurities of our youth? Is there an age or a number of years as a mother that will take me to a place where I claim my role whole-heartedly? When I am not surprised to look around me at children rapidly changing into young people with thoughts, ideas, talents and yes, insecurities of their own.

The two sides of me, secure and insecure, battle within. Can I really be a mother when I still feel like a little girl? My own daughter looks to me for answers to questions that I never found. How can I help her when there are days that I feel she may be the better adult, and I the child?

Fear can overwhelm a mother. The fact is, while we may not see ourselves as adequate, we have been given this mission by the One who best knows what we need. It is no accident that we are the ones in charge.

As for that little girl, the one that lives within me still, He knows her too. He has loved her and goes before her each step of the way. He created her for a purpose. I do believe that regardless of how I feel day to day, that my greatest purpose is to mother these children.

He desires that we claim our purpose and our mission.

The little girl.....is she simply a diversion; a weakness we carry with us? Certainly there are weaknesses there, but maybe....maybe..that is why He allows us to continue living with her. For if we were strong every day, if we were confident in each decision, if we were secure in ourselves, then we would never need the comfort and guiding of His mighty Hand.

It is the little girl that looks up into His face and says, "Lead me, for I am lost. Strengthen me, for I am weak. Hold me, so that I can then hold them."

Thank you, Father, for the little girl. Help me to be the woman, and the mother, you long for me to be.

"But let it be the hidden man of the heart, in that which is not corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price." I Pet. 3:4

"...Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child shall in no wise enter therein." Luke 18:17

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

The Treasure Beneath

Tackling spring cleaning can be a daunting task, but tackling the small and packed bedroom of two daughters who are self-proclaimed collectors can be downright terrifying. When those daughters are 6 years apart in age you can be assured that the collections are many and varied.

Clothing, dolls, books, yarn, tin cans, ponies, hats and yes, Christmas decorations......and that is only what I am looking at from the doorway. Dresser piled high, wall hooks so full that it only appears to be a wall of clothing, bags and jump ropes. Assorted tiny brushes, doll clothes, strings and many unnamed items lurk about on the floor.

After repeated unsuccessful attempts to get the sisters to work together on this chore, their mother finally steps in and begins a long overdue purge. I must say that one of the aforementioned sisters does try to maintain order, but the younger is a hard-nosed messy. The bedroom inevitably becomes a battleground. Please do not think that I am giving up on teaching my children to clean up after themselves. I am not; however, there are times when it is beneficial to stop issuing orders, roll up your sleeves and work with them.

I guess that time has come.

Some things are easy to handle.....well, maybe not easy.....the clothes that the younger is so quickly outgrowing SHOULD go directly into the bag headed for Goodwill again. But then.....this mother thinks of all the times her baby has worn that outfit, and mourns the inevitable changes that it signals.

It SHOULD be easy to quickly weed out the useless, cheap toys (i.e. happy meal prizes), but then I think of all the times I see them playing happily with the cheapo toys and not even noticing the more expensive, higher quality toys sitting close by. (I have given up trying to understand what will fascinate my children's imaginations.)

Okay. So maybe their mother has some issues too.

I weed. I sort. I throw....a little.

As I tackle the drawers of the dresser that they share I pull out clothing that I had forgotten about.

"What about this pair of pants?" I ask my older daughter.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about those," she replies sheepishly.

"I don't remember this outfit either," I say.

"I got that when I was in Maine, but I just didn't see them in my drawer so I forgot about them."

Half jokingly and half to show her that I do not want to hear that she has no clothes, I have her change into a pair of capris that still has tags on them. What do you know....they fit and they're cute.

"Its amazing what you can find when you actually look in the drawer, Daughter," I joke with the girl who is soon to be looking down at me.

Later I was thinking about the purging process and how so often it becomes about getting rid of the junk....a necessary task. But the exciting part of it is the treasures that you can find when the junk is moved.

Everyone has junk. We call it "baggage". No one really wants it, but it becomes part of who we think we are, so we hang on. The funny thing is that when we are finally persuaded to let go of some particular baggage, we quite often can find a piece of ourselves that we had forgotten was there. Many times it is a valuable piece.....of so much more value than the other that was hiding it.

Perhaps we look at it in surprise and say, "I thought that was just part of my past. I didn't even know it had a place in my present." Talents, hobbies and gifts of many kinds are kept safely by our Lord for a time when we will be ready to use them again. For there are no mistakes in His plan. The dreams he gave as a child, the talents that were nurtured for a time and then forgotten.....these are kept in Heavenly hands.

We have occupied our lives studying the "baggage" we have collected and have missed the treasures sitting close by. As we respond to His leading and remove or let go of the baggage we can begin to see all the treasures He has stored for us.

I imagine His gentle smile as He reveals the gifts of our past.

"See here, my child. Will you remember this gift I gave you so long ago? I have held it for you. You thought it was gone, but I did not give it, to take it away. Take it now and use it for me. I will multiply it and bless it, if you will only accept it back again with full understanding of where it has come from."

"And the LORD said unto him, 'What is that in thine hand?' And he said, 'A rod.'" (Ex. 4:2)

"Every man according as he purposeth in his heart, so let him give; not grudgingly, or of necessity: for God loveth a cheerful giver. And God is able to make all grace abound toward you; that ye, always have all sufficiency in all things, may abound to every good work:" (II Cor. 9:7,8)

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Hope Springs New

The sun beats down again. Spring breezes play in the branches of the trees. Nearly a year has completed it's turn since I first met here in this place to share my life with those who dare to share in it.

There have been weeks that have given rise to many and varied thoughts. At other times it seems there has been a total lack of sharing and the place becomes stale without the people breath within. During those times I think of entering, but for one reason or another choose not to share of myself.

Too often my mind becomes clouded with so many thoughts and emotions that to sort them out for sharing seems an insurmountable task. Individual thoughts and ideas need time to grow into some sort of fruit before they can be shared for any good.

With the return of the sun, the breeze and new life, perhaps I become more able to share here with you. Spring speaks of hope....of reasons to press on. The emotional pain of winter begins to fade as the light of physical hope shines around us. As the crusted soil breaks open to share slivers of green with the world above, I see and am encouraged. I ask the Lord to open the heart of this one, that His light may shine.

This same cycle continues as it has since the beginning. Winter always gives way to hope. Our Father will never leave us in the winter....thank-you, Father.

"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;.......A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and time to speak;"

"He hath made every thing beautiful in his time." (Ecc. 3:1-4,7,11a)

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

What's For Supper?

They want to know what's for supper.....AGAIN!

They, being the four that call me Mommy. Regardless of what else is happening in our lives they always want to know, "What's for supper?" It is a cry that is heard all over the world by mothers everywhere. And most of the time it is a trigger for confusion and monotony.

Oh, yeah. Supper. Didn't I just feed them? No that was two hours ago when I made about 5 gallons of popcorn. Often my mind is trained on too many things. I am thinking of my exercise plan for the day and grieving for the family members whose health continues to fail while I am away from them. Spelling tests, grading first and second grade math, nurturing our marriage, dishes that never end and the oversight of the growth of four very human little people all leave me feeling super-saturated with life.

As I attempt to retreat inside the walls of my mind, the cry comes from out there. "Supper? Food? Something to eat?" The emotion behind the words become more insistent the longer I attempt to retreat.

Can they really be that hungry....already?

I think maybe that the words they say are actually needing translation. "Mommy, do you see me? Are you thinking of me? Will you meet my needs? Mommy?"

When the words actually translate in my mind, I can look at them with love instead of annoyance. Can they tell my mind is elsewhere? No doubt.

Because their needs are as deep as my own, I will see what mommy-miracles I can perform with a can of beans and one of corn. It matters less to them what is on their plates than that it is placed there by the one they depend on. Their security is in knowing that the parents they love will continue to provide.

So I know, and long to be reassured, that my Provider will meet my ongoing and sometimes very messy needs. I come to Him, begging for help, without the right words to truly express my feelings, and yet He does not fail to fill the longings in my soul.

My words need no translator for He sees beyond them into my need.....and He meets me there. Unlike this mother, He is never failing.....never absent. He sees His child and He....always.....meets the need.

"...But ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father. The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God: And if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ;" Rom. 8:15-17

"And he that searcheth the hearts knoweth what is the mind of the Spirit, because he maketh intercession for the saints according to the will of God." Rom. 8:27

"And they that know thy name will put their trust in thee: for thou, LORD, hast not forsaken them that seek thee." Psalms 9:10

Tuesday, January 25, 2011


Empty screen, music that moves my soul and keys waiting to be directed.

I feel the sense of coming back to a friend that has been gone for too long. Yes, I have neglected this place of late....not out of disinterest, but for more involved reasons.

At times, since beginning the journey of accepting myself and moving forward through writing, others have commented on the transparency of the words that have come from within. And they are correct when they interpret transparency. For it is my very deepest thoughts that form in print.

Because of this, there are times in life when the inner thoughts are too much to open for perusal. When soul searching is too deep to share. When pains are too acute to bear before others. The transparency would be too much, and since that is how I write, it has been safer to abstain from this public display of my very being.

Over the last several months I have been becoming stronger......physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually. But I have to say that the only one I feel I have had any control over is the physical growth. I have been leaving it all out there....on the track, the treadmill, the mat and wherever else I happened to find to beat my body into submission.

The other aspects of my growth have been simply in allowing my Lord to take me through the fires He has chosen for me and keeping my eyes on His dear face. The pain of physical exercise is beginning to show in my body. I feel strength where before I felt weakness. So also the strength of my faith increases as I allow him to do His work, painful though it may be.

There is no person on this earth who does not suffer. Each one can remember those times of loneliness....not loneliness because there is no one else around, but that which comes from being on a path that no one but Him can travel with you. We may fight against it for a time and try to pull others in, but growth will lead us to see, as Christian did in Pilgrim's Progress, that there is a time when we must walk along alone and then we will receive all the love, and guidance and strength for which we have been seeking. It is on that lonely road, and only there, that His face becomes clear and His heart beats in our ears.

If we continue on that road He will lead us on into more towns and places of service, but we will not forget that the journey is ours. Others come and go. We love some intensely, but we cannot walk their road for them or they for us.

We are so blessed if on this earth we are given one or two people who share our hopes, our dreams and with whom we feel completely loved and accepted. But even the greatest of relationships in this place cannot compare with the depth and beauty of the love of the One who has already borne our sorrows and our sins. There is nothing greater.

This place is a special one for me. I do hope you see my transparency......but through my transparency, I hope, you will see Jesus. Anything less than transparency would just block your view of Him.

"Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us,

Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God
." Hebrews 12:1,2