I'm Seeing Dots!

 

Over the holidays I created a palate of dots on the wall of my 15 year olds' bedroom.  It was her idea and much to my dismay, I hesitated, grumbled, tensed up and finally gave in to that sweet child's whims.  I carefully opened the can of paint, so as to not spill it on the carpet and then I plunged in to this arduous task.  It was a delicate operation at best.  I had no help priming the walls, painting the walls white, measuring the circles that I was to paint, and then actually painting those circles.  It was a long tedious process.  I was a little resentful at first as I began measuring the spaces between those dots and as I listened to my family in the other room laughing, watching T.V. and not a soul asking if I needed help.  I moved forward trying not to let the joy of painting be over ran by negative feelings of resentment.

I love to paint, but the problem with painting is that all my other chores, tasks and or duties of a mother are still there waiting for me when I finish with my painting.  Life keeps moving forward, and chores are still there and there is only one of me.  The thought of loosing nearly two days of time painting dots while my chores still remained was a daunting thought.  I will say, all in all, there was a hint of excitement in my body about this project, but I let the resentment of my family not helping overshadow my joy.

My fifteen year old has a unique gift of creative vision. I think in part, her vision arises out of being positive, thinking forward, and not letting any doubt or evil thought interfere with her happiness to create. Her spirit has been strengthened by trials.  She has moved forward not letting the past hold her captive.  Her energy helps me move forward, as well.  And I do have to say, I too have a creative thumb like her,  but I tend to hold onto and linger in the dark places I have been and sometimes choose to stay there instead of relishing in the joy of the day and allowing my free spirit to be embellished.  My daughter has taught me much.

As I started painting these dots I began praying. I was a little angry at the beginning, doing this project out of obligation not gifting her with the possibility of a new room.  I hated the feeling of anger and so as I began praying, I softened up a bit.   Each dot holds a specific prayer.  All in all, this is a prayer wall camouflaged by dots.  She has no idea the amount of prayer it took me to get through this project, but prayer prevailed and God won.  I chose to not be tempted by the trials in which I was tempted.  I knew that if I allowed the one who tempted me with the trial, this wall would not be the gift in which it was intended.  I had to allow the spirit of love prevail in her room.

Most recently, I began mediating on the Letter from James 12-15

FAITH AND WISDOM

"Happy are those who remain faithful under trials,

because when they succeed in passing such a test,

they will receive as their reward the life which God has promised to those who love him.

If we are tempted by such trials, we must not say,

"This temptation comes from God."

For God cannot be tempted by evil, 

and he himself tempts no one.

But we are tempted when we are drawn away

 and trapped by our own evil desires.

Then our evil desires conceive and gift birth to sin; 

and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death."

When I completed the project of "dots", I felt the joy through my daughters eyes.  She was most pleased and the pain in painting those dots eventually became a prayer, a time with God and I myself received the joy from God when my daughter was overwhelmed with the happiness of having her room decorated with those hot pink dots. I never imagined that the next two days would be filled with excitement over dots.  

If we remain faithful under trials, the reward is so ever wonderful.  The rest of my family chimed in and wanted to add their touch of love to this room.  And as the room evolved she became most grateful.  And I might add, her room is remaining clean.  This clean room may not last, but it is a reminder to me her appreciation and a reminder to her of my love for her.   

I am a little dizzy, I am seeing dots on the wall.  

"Oh they would put me in the zoo, if they could see what I can do." 

           (A line out of Robert Lopshires' book)

The GINGERBREAD House

We awoke Christmas Day to the sounds of my grandchild, who is 4 years old, very much filled with the excitement of Santa Claus and the GIFTS that he brings.  She keeps this part of Christmas Spirit alive and the excitement that she displays is beyond measure.  Her childlike enthusiasm is so innocent and pure it takes me back to my childhood memories of my Christmas.

We opened presents, shared in jokes and laughter and made cinnamon rolls for breakfast, built a fire that cooked us all here in the south (it was all in the idea that it would be awesome to build a fire) and then we cleaned up the mess of the packages unwrapped.  For instance, we had a bag for used bows, a bag for boxes, a bag for trash, a bag for recyclables and a bag for ribbon that could be used again next year.  

We examined our gifts, commenced to nap taking, watching T.V. or just lingering in the family room. We remained in our P.J.'s most of the day.  The smell from the kitchen was overwhelming which eventually drew us all into this space.  Of course, not many offered to assist in the cooking of the goods, but what did happen was the sounds and volume of music was turned up and the dancing began.  Everyone danced to some very up beat tunes and shared in, once again, laughter.

The laughter of my family was finest Christmas present gifted to me this year. No one can box up laughter and send it as a present, it is gifted by those that you love, in situations that are unplanned and/or in the unconditional moments of life.  It releases all sorts of endorphin's that temporarily triggers all sorts of benefits to your mind, body and spirit.  Consequently, in our family, the laughter also triggers other series of other events, which I would like to call 'memories'.

It is in the memories that will be passed down from year to year, not the gifts that were wrapped, but in the experience of each other loving one another.  It is in the vulnerability of opening up to one another in the movement of their spirit.  And it is in the vulnerability, this closeness that brings about a spirit of family and more laughter.

After dinner the family gathered to make a Gingerbread house.  There were two kids that were responsible to decorate one side and the other two were to decorate yet the other.  There was honest competition among them and laughter.  I stayed on the out skirts of their sticky mess and watched and listened to each of them, working together to create a magical gingerbread house.  All in all, I was thinking about each of their gifts that they were bringing to the house.  The youngest was gifting her spirit of excitement, the other was gifting her perfection, one was gifting her creativity and lastly, one child was engineering the house to remain in place for weeks to come before it is deposited into the trash can.    

The spirit of teamwork among my children is also a favorite gift received this year. The teamwork and the gifts they share and their unconditional love for one another is reason to give Thanks.   It is in teamwork, working together, living in harmony is something that God wants for us all.  In having harmony, laughter, working together, we are able to do God's will. This, teamwork, after all, is a very clear statement in the Bible.

1 Corinthians 12:14  "Now the body is not a single part, but many." 

It took skillful practice to create our gingerbread house and it also took a skillful practice to accept each other's differences and gifts presented that day.  

As Christmas day has passed, I get to hold on to the gingerbread house for a couple of more weeks.  I get to visibly remember the laughter and the gifts of harmony that were brought to my table to create this little candy treasure.

My Christmas gifts this year:  laughter and harmony.

Christmas Favorites

I arose out of bed at 6:00am Christmas Eve morning thinking to myself, I am going to cuddle up on my sofa with my dogs and drink coffee and wait for the tribe to arise out of bed. The house was chilly, so I grabbed a blanket and headed for the sofa, checked my phone for any updates on social media. My phone had several messages from my daughter who left for work about an hour earlier than when I woke up. Her text message was so long she should have written a book and gotten paid.  My coffee waited as I pursued to read and read some more.  Essentially, she wanted me to take my grand-daughter to the doctor, run to her house and pick up a few items, check on the lights and so forth.  Sometimes, well most times, I think she should pay me as her hired help.  

I called the doctor and was informed that I needed to be at the office in about 30 minutes.  So, in a scurry I grabbed clothes, woke the grand-baby and headed out the door only to wait at the doctor's office for an hour in the waiting room, an hour in the exam room and 45 minutes at the pharmacy.  This waiting set the stage for Christmas reminiscing.  My daughter's text message procured three hours off my initial sip of coffee, breakfast and cuddling up with my dogs.  Nothing goes as expected.  

Here's what I thought about in those three hours of waiting.....

My Christmas Favorites:

1.  CHRISTMAS FLAGS on my house, especially the one pictured above.  Each season I bring out a new flag to hang by my porch.  The flag above is one that I purchased this year, couldn't find my other one, but that's okay, I really am glad I could not find my old flag because this one really brings a smile on my face.  

2.  LAST MINUTE SHOPPING especially when you know everything is already purchased and you have maintained your budget......so, you reward yourself and buy more.  It is always these last minute gifts that seem to be the best gifts given.  No thoughts, spontaneous buying, no budget, the BEST gifts!!!!

3.  SNOW.  My fondest memories while growing up was on the 1st of December.  My family placed bets on whether we would have a white Christmas.  We don't place bets down here in the south, only in the north because everyone would all guess that there would be NO snow, because it is just to dang hot down here in the south.  Maybe we should bet whether or not the weather will be above 70 degrees or below.  Now that would be a change up in tradition. 

4.  MUSIC..... Now you would think that I love listening to the sounds of Christmas music and I do, don't get me wrong, but on Christmas Eve we all usually get together in the kitchen and all of us start baking our desserts for Christmas day and we turn up the music (top pop music) and dance and sing and bake.  We each get to display our dance moves, including my son, and we laugh till we can't laugh any more!!!! I'm not sure what we are baking this year, but I will think of something just to see the moves... 

5. GRANDMOTHER'S HOUSE.  I loved going to see my grandparents over the Christmas holidays when  I was a child.  They created very special memories that have lasted a lifetime. I hope my grand-daughter has the same sentiments when she grows up and looks back in time.  

6.  LIGHTS.  On Christmas Eve we go and see the Christmas lights around the neighborhood.  There are usually more than the legal amount of people in our car, so we are all squished and everyone is complaining in a fun way and we see the lights and then we are glad it is over.  

7.  MIDNIGHT MASS:  I love to agitate my family when I tell them we need to leave at 10:50pm for midnight mass.  It only takes 10 minutes to get to church, but I, in my anticipation of mass, want us all to sit together and not to worry about getting split up at mass because there is not enough seating and not to gather frustration about no parking spaces.  I like to just sit in the pews for an hour and listen to the music and pray.  My family says I create  more frustration for them than they would have with the idea of being split up and walking two miles.  I think they are always joking, so we always leave at 10:50 for midnight mass. 

8.  PRESENTS.  I like to see the presents under the tree Christmas morning, but I dislike wrapping them.  My back hurts after this marathon event.  No one usually volunteers to help me so I have to use force to get someone to assist.  I always wonder why I am responsible for this task...???go figure..

9.  KIDS... Even though my children are all almost adults, they are still my kids and I still love the moment of surprise when they open their presents.  Even if they have already peeked, they still are really good at faking it.  I hope they have not peeked.  I love to see my kids smile and I most certainly love the gift giving part.

10.  ANTICIPATION of Christ being born.  As we have all prepared this month of December for the birth of Christ, you see a change in people attitudes.  There is less hostility, more generosity, and a holy reminder everywhere of what is to become on the 25th.  Everyone knows, everyone shares in the celebration.  There are a few that grumble, but I believe the spirit is greater than the grumbling. 

Merry Christmas!  

Gospel LK 1:67-79

Zechariah his father, filled with the Holy Spirit, prophesied, saying: 

“Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel;

for he has come to his people and set them free.

He has raised up for us a mighty Savior,

born of the house of his servant David.

Through his prophets he promised of old

that he would save us from our enemies,

from the hands of all who hate us.

He promised to show mercy to our fathers

and to remember his holy covenant.

This was the oath he swore to our father Abraham:

to set us free from the hand of our enemies,

free to worship him without fear,

holy and righteous in his sight

all the days of our life.

You, my child, shall be called the prophet of the Most High,

for you will go before the Lord to prepare his way,

to give his people knowledge of salvation

by the forgiveness of their sins.

In the tender compassion of our God

the dawn from on high shall break upon us,

to shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death,

and to guide our feet into the way of peace.”

A second impression, a different meaning..

One of my daughters loves the arts and supports the arts every chance that she has and while she supports the arts, she has mastered the art of including me in her passion.  We go to ballets, orchestra performances and the like, and I probably would show initiative and ask her to go with me, but she always beats me to the punch.  Last night we went to see the Rockettes.  Although, I really wanted to see the Rockettes, I did not want to pay the price of the ticket.  I created a new line item on my budget and paid for the tickets and my two daughters, my grandchild and myself all went to enjoy the Christmas spectacular with a few thousand other people.  

I have never seen the Rockettes before this day and my initial suspicion was that the show was going to be dancing to the up beat tunes of the 'Holiday Season'.  I said the 'Holiday Season' because I did not think the Rockettes would institute the 'real' theme of Christmas in their performance.  My impression was wrong.  During the middle of the show they choreographed and danced to the most spectacular performance around the "Nativity".  I was more than impressed!!  I was now convinced that this show was not some 'high kick' theater performance under the stars, but a performance that drew us into the true meaning of Christmas; the" Birth of Christ" and the joy of the season.  I was glad I paid the high price to see this group celebrate in the birth of Christ and to support their mission as a troupe to spread God's message.  

At church today, I was reminded of the '12 days of Christmas' song in the homily of the mass.  I immediately was drawn to the lyrics and started humming the tune in my head.  As always, the impression that most get when they hear this tune, that has been carried from generation to generation, is one of  'Holiday' cheer. Nonetheless, our priest reminded us that this song was intended for Catholics to secretly learn their faith in England between 1558 and 1829 when it was a crime to be a Catholic.  The song was a way to learn and remember their faith.  

The true meaning behind the song goes like this:

1 Partridge in a Pear Tree = Jesus Christ, Son of God

2 Turtle Doves = The Old and New Testaments

3 French Hens = Faith, Hope and Charity, the Theological Virtues

4 Calling Birds = the Four Gospels and/or the Four Evangelist

5 Golden Rings = The first Five Books of the Old Testament, the "Pentateuch", which gives the history of man's fall from grace. 

6 Geese A-Laying = the six days of creation

7 Swans A-swimming = the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit, the seven sacraments

8 Maids A-milking = the eight beatitudes

9 Ladies Dancing = the nine Fruits of the Holy Spirit

10 Lords A-Leaping = the ten commandments

11 Pipers Piping = the eleven faithful apostles

12 Drummers Drumming = the twelve points of doctrine in the Apostle's Creed

As we get closer to the Birth of Christ, it is easy to dismiss the true meaning, the story behind the word 'Christmas'.  I knew that the song 'The 12 days of Christmas" had been intended to teach the catechism of the Catholic Church to Catholic people long ago, I learned that in my religion classes when I was a child, but it was easier for me to dismiss the meaning when other words were put in the lyrics. It is also easy for me to hurry about as I shop and add up how much I have spent on each child, grandchild and spouse on presents and to make sure I have spread the wealth of gifts evenly instead of truly thinking of the gift of Christ.  

I too, like you, get caught up in the song and dance of it all and fail to stop, listen and pray.  

I have 4 days left to get my song and dance perfected like the Rockettes, to share the message that a new born King is about to arrive. 

This is after all the "Christmas Spectacular!"

Thank you Rockettes! May the show go on.....

Grasshopper

I saw this grasshopper on my home the other day. I was getting into my car and it was just sitting there on the brick wall with no other grasshoppers in sight.  I found it odd that I saw this grasshopper  and particularly odd to have found this one in December.  A peculiar sight, if you will...

I took this picture because of the oddness of it.  I was not thinking that I would later write about it, but often times while taking pictures I usually do recall something in my memory that draws me to the subject in the picture, hence I get an inner urging to snap photos of the subject.

I believe in and or around 1986 there was a movie called 'Kung Fu' and in this movie a young man was given the name 'grasshopper', a term or name of endearment.  It typically refers to a student, beginner still learning, a person who has much to learn".  A grasshopper can also refer to someone who hops from one thing to another, never focusing on one single subject at a time.  I believe both of these definitions hold true to my personality.

I am not currently a student.  I have done my time, graduated from college several times with several degrees, all of which I am most grateful.   I work, mother, grandmother and just try to keep my 'head in the game'.  I do love school and wish I could go back, but for now, enrollment in a college is far from my immediate goals. I still consider myself a 'student in life'.  I am learning, still making mistakes and learning from my mistakes.  I also hop from one thing to another, fascinated with life and all that it has to offer.  Each day I take notes of all the things that I think of or items I want to address, goals or chores or something I just want to create.  Today for instance, I want to rake off the pine needles off my driveway, finish a book, wrap Christmas presents, make fudge, bathe my dogs, play with my grand-baby, write, exercise, grocery shop, sew and phone my loved ones.  The list goes on as the day progresses.  My mind rarely quiets itself and I have to practice this art of silence daily or I would literally go insane with all the drummed up expectations and noise that I hear within.

I visit the Blessed Sacrament in Adoration weekly and I have been doing this for many years, every Tuesday, one hour given to God.  Sometimes it is hard to stop the fast pace life and say 'no' to the other activities and to my family, just so I can go give one hour to my Lord.  I am often times tempted to find a substitute so I can continue the hoping from one thing to the next.  But when I go to Adoration, enter the chapel and hear the silence, my inner grasshopper stops.  My focus is diverted on God.  There is silence in the chapel, a reverence beyond measure for all that enter.  It is a moment in time when  I reach to God and God is reaching for me. I adore, give thanks, repent and bask in his love for me and I bask in the quiet of my mind, heart and soul. It is a gift that I receive each Tuesday evening.

In the movie "Kung Fu" there is a conversation from Master Po and his student Caine.  He is teaching him to listen and in listening he attempts to gain wisdom.  The conversation goes something like this:

Master Po (blind):  Close your eyes.  What do you hear?
Young Caine:  I hear the water, I hear the birds.
Po:  Do you hear your own heartbeat?
Caine:  NO.
Po:  Do you hear the grasshopper which is at your feet?
Caine:  Old man, how is it that you hear these things?
Po:  Young man, how is it that you do not?


If I hop from noise and distraction to silence, I am lead into contemplative prayer with my Divine Master.  It takes practice, I am a 'not so young' grasshopper at heart.

Matthew 26:40 "So, could you not watch with me one hour?"   , grasshopper? 

Immaculate Conception

This is my prayer box. It sits at my dining room table on the floor near a window, hidden from all that walk in my door.  It has my bible, my journal, pens, and other devotional books which are interchanged as time passes throughout the seasons of our Catholic liturgical church year.

I am sure we all have rituals that we go through in our prayer lives, each very private and yet unique. I have several bibles, one for my purse, one for adoration and one for home, and then there are others. Today, instead of reaching for my bible, I pulled out the "Catechism of the Catholic Church" book.  I re-read the profession of my faith and then moved to the section of the Immaculate Conception, item #488 since today is a Holy Day of Obligation, the 'Immaculate Conception'.

It reads:
"God sent forth his Son," but to prepare a body for him, he wanted the free cooperation of a creature.  For this, from all eternity God chose for the mother of his son a daughter of Israel, a young Jewish woman of Nazareth in Galilee, "a virgin betrothed to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David; and the virgin's name was Mary". #490, ...The Angel Gabriel at the moment of the annunciation salutes her as "full of grace."

I pondered upon Mary's role this morning, her state of grace and how privilege the almighty God placed such merits upon her to carry our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  Mary brought Him into the world and blessed all of mankind.  She is so pure.  We are so blessed.

I have been blessed by God to birth four amazing children into the world, so they too can carry out the message of God. However, having said that, we carry the stain of sin upon us and in our attempts to love and move His message to our neighbor, family, friend we often times fail. In our failure though, through God's unconditional love, He opens His arms wide and helps us back up on our feet so we can start all over again.  Mary was pure and holy without a single sin to prevent her from that one thing called 'love'.

It is the season to move beyond the past and move forward with new light that God wants us to shine and bring forth to those that do not know Him.  It is the season to re-read the messages/stories of Jesus and to be reminded that in Mary's obedience, her consent to God, she aided in the salvation of all of the human race.

Today, my prayer is this:

Hail Mary full of grace,
the Lord is with Thee.  
Blessed art thou among women, 
and blessed is the fruit 
of they womb, Jesus.

Holy Mary, Mother of God, 
pray for us sinners,
now and at the hour of our death. 
Amen

Guests

The other evening, my husband and myself were out doing errands, enjoying the evening without interruptions from our children/grandchild.  We were in the beginning stages of Christmas shopping and we were almost nearing the end of our shopping when my phone started buzzing.  I had it on silent, but it stilled buzzed to notify me of an up and coming message.

My daughter texted me stating they had an emergency and we needed to hurry home.  Her message was simple "HELP, EMERGENCY!  IT'S REALLY BIG".  Her message was followed by a picture of a lizard on our ceiling.  You could barely see the little critter so I had to zoom in on the picture to really identify what it was that was "REALLY BIG".  Once I got my reading glasses out and zoomed in on the picture, I was able to identify that the critter indeed was a lizard.  

The lizard was just under 5 inches long, nothing I would call "BIG" and it was very unassuming, non-threatening, as it was located on our 10 foot ceiling, in the entry way.  It was not bothering anyone in the home, it wasn't in the family room or their bedrooms, kitchen or other place of gathering.  It was just on the ceiling, sitting, watching and waiting for the front door to open so it could resume its' life outside.  

The emergency had my husband and myself laughing and most certainly, when we arrived home they were screaming and stating we had better kill it quick because they were not going to sleep until the lizard was dead.  Again, we continued to laugh which fueled their anger and made them very nervous.  

I got my ladder and dust mop, climbed and tried to get my little outdoor friend to jump off the ceiling.   In a quick motion of my mop, the lizard flew quicker than my eyes could follow.  I had no clue where he went.  The screaming from my children began again.  They were scrambling and yelling stating "hurry, kill him'.  

My husband came to my rescue and we found him in the dining room, again resting, and probably wondering why there was so much commotion. I was able to get him on the end of the pole of my mop and swiftly moved outdoors and placed him in a bed of rocks.  

This morning at church, I was reminded, once again, of my little lizard friend when our priest spoke about guests using the front door or the back door of our home.  He mentioned "when the door bell rings, do you look and see who is there, pretend you are not at home, or answer the door and politely put the guests in the 'nice' part of your house, as a waiting zone, until they state their business and leave OR do your guest come through the back door, walk in unassuming, help themselves in the disorderly chaos of your home, feeling very welcomed?  Our priest related this message to our relationship to Jesus.  Is Jesus the uninvited guest at the front door of your home or is he the back door friend who appears regularly at your home? 

I walked away from church today and thought heavily on my relationship with Jesus. I also thought about the lizard.  God must not only be in our lives constantly, but we must always welcome Him in our moments of chaos, inviting him in constantly through prayer.    

For now though, I believe Mr. lizard will only be a front door guest in my home. He will be escorted out once he states his business. 

Early Walk

Making sense of it all....

Intuition....

A spiritual longing....

I am not sure why God pulled me out of bed so early this morning.  I wanted to lay in bed and be drugged by sweet dreams and deep sleep.  He had other plans for me this day after Thanksgiving. The house is quiet and so by fear of waking everyone, I tiptoed to the closet and pulled out my sweat pants and sweat shirt, painfully bent over and slipped on my socks and shoes and stepped outside for a walk.  It was chilly this morning, so the sweatshirt came in handy.  

It has been awhile since I have had an early morning walk, and even more unusual that I did not have my morning brew,  I obeyed God and continued to move in the direction in which I was being pulled, out into the street to pound the pavement.  It was quiet.  The families of my neighborhood were snuggled in their beds, they had gone to work or they were out doing 'Black Friday' shopping. Either way, it was quiet.  I could hear only the rustling of a few squirrels in the leaves at the bottom of the trees, gathering their nuts and preparing for the winter.  

The squirrels didn't seem to mind my presence, especially once I entered the path where most of them seemed to be gathering.  They did hone into me and stopped and stared as I passed by, staying very still, watching and waiting.  I did not appear to be a threat to them, it must have been their intuition that I was only going on a walk, not squirrel hunting.  My intuition was to keep moving as God was pulling and pushing me forward, and I presume He wanted to show me something.  

After a half mile, I wanted to call it quits and come back home and settle down with a cup of coffee. I didn't.  God didn't let me.  He is very persistent.  Spirit continued to move within me, stirring my emotions and thoughts into pondering how great He is and how blessed I am that He wanted to share this morning with me.  As I continued to walk the course of three miles, not one car passed, human, dog or bike.  It was just me and God.  

In a moment of clarity, Spirit was a palpable presence bearing witness to an awakening of pure beauty and divine intervention in my walk.  The dots were being connected at the end of my three miles.  The walk began to resonate deep within that this walk was all that God wanted for me.  He wanted me to have a moment of silence and beauty for my day.  He wanted me to start my day with Him.  It was His gift to me. He also wanted to walk alongside me this morning as I prayed and dwelled in His shelter.  He knew my thoughts, my yearnings, my pain, my joys and my desire to know what He wants for me.  

God insists that we follow Him and in His ways.  It is very easy, especially as the new season of Advent begins, to be very distracted by the temptations of the world, to be lured into the trappings of all earthly temptations and enticed away from God. I am most blessed this morning to have walked with God. I needed a reminder, a slap on the hand, a time out, as a child of God to be more persistent in prayer and love.

My feet led me back home.  I was no longer yearning for answers from God. Silence was the gift that I accepted. My only yearnings that remained this morning as I crossed the threshold of my home was for coffee and a warm blanket.      

Deuteronomy 13: 5-6

"The Lord, your God, shall you follow,and him shall you fear; his commandment shall you observe, and his voice shall you heed, serving him and holding fast to him alone". 

Thanksgiving Brainstorm

My grandchild is sitting here next to me making cards for her mother.  She loves to color pictures, but more than anything, she loves to be the giver.  We receive many cards and pictures from her on a daily basis.  She has prompted me today to write about my reason to give thanks.


1.  Homemade pictures by grandchild even though I only receive about 5% of them.  Her mother receives the other 95%.  At least I know where I stand with her, second best isn't all that bad.

2.  Coffee first thing in the morning.  Without coffee, I may growl!!  I may also bite your head off.....Grrrrrr......

3.  Quiet places for prayer time.  I especially like to find a niche, whether it is in the library, the chapel, or at home to meditate on the gospel.  Without this guidance and counsel from God, I fear I may self destruct.

4.  Ice cream!!!!!!!!!!!  I should probably put this at the top of my list, maybe even before coffee.  I am addicted!!!  Once a day, habit!

5.  A good nights sleep.  After raising 4 children and sleeping with a husband that snores and three dogs, a good nights sleep is a rare find and this is why I carry baggage under my eyes.

6.  A Pay Check.  After working hard all week, the reward is nice.  Especially having food on my table and a roof over my head, and of course....shopping.

7.  My Bathroom.  I hate public restrooms.  I know this may sound weird, but I absolutely hate public restrooms.  I just think of all the backsides of people I do not know sitting in the same place doing their duty.  Yuck.  I would rather go in the woods.  I am thankful for my bathroom

8.  Smart People.  Without smart people we may not have the things that make life easier, and because of smart people, I don't have to work as hard.  Just think about the typewriter before it had the capability to back space and auto correct.  What would we do without the computer?  Can you imagine going back to the typewriter????  Not me.

9.  Dog Hair.  Although, my floor in my home has plenty of dog hair floating around like tumbleweeds, I am most grateful for my dogs.  They give me the most unprecedented joy.

10.  Sounds of the Kitchen.  When I hear sounds in the kitchen, I know it won't be long before I am fed.  My husband likes to cook and I like it when he cooks because then I don't have too.  It always taste better and I'm not tired when I sit down to eat.   I'm grateful for my ALL of my children because they can clean up the dinner dishes afterwards.  Thanks be to God.

11.  Friends.  Especially those that know I love them even though I don't keep in touch regularly. I'm really lousy about communicating.  I want to hear all about their life, but it is dreadful for me to talk about mine.  Don't ask...  but I am grateful and thankful for life.

12.    Planners.  My world revolves around my planner. Without my planner, I would not only be in total chaos, but I would be chaos. I am most certain that planners were specifically designed just for me. I am so honored.

13.  Men's boxers.   Men do not know how grateful they should be having boxers designed just for them.  I love men's boxers.  Not to just look at men in their boxers, but to wear them to bed as my trusty PJ's.  I just sew up the open space in the front, grab a matching t-shirt and wallah!  Night time nighties.

14.  Family.  Yes, I am blessed to be surrounded by my family, including all the good and the bad that is pulled out of their hats.  I wanted to say 'crap' pulled out of their hats, but I refrained.  Just thought you should know my real thoughts.  The 'crap' makes us thankful for the 'good'. Right?  So, in recapping item #14, I am thankful for the crap that is pulled out of my family's hat.  It is good to have crap every now and then.  Crap reminds you of the opposite, Good family times.

Glad I was able to share my the many blessings given to me on this day of Thanksgiving.

Thessalonians 5:18  "In all circumstances give thanks, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus".

The Parable of the Lost "Daughter"

Siblings...

I have always prayed a prayer for my children to be best friends. The prayer began when they were babies and continued as they became toddlers, teens and as adults.  Three of my four children are inseparable.  Of the four children I have been blessed to have, one child has chosen to walk away from our family.  The other three children do not have an opportunity to be best friends and come to know her as an adult. She has been on her own for two years.  They do not miss her now.  She is a memory to them.  They have moved on from the initial pain that she created.  They have developed among themselves a very close bond.  They are, once again, inseparable. They lift each other up when they are down and enjoy the success in each other's lives.  My heart aches for my daughter that left and for my other three that choose to remain.  They are all missing out on so much, as am I, and my husband.  There is much pain.  

My daughter that left and is walking a different path also walked away from God and all the blessings he has bestowed upon her. I suspect one day she will return, possibly...and my question is always, how will we ever restore what has been lost?  We won't. There will always be gaps in the story line of our family.   

I look at this picture above and I just smile.  It is tender, sweet and you get a sense of generous love.  This is not a picture of a boy and young girl dating, simply brother and sister.  They enjoy each other's company when in each other's presence.  

I debated just recently to have our family pictures taken by a photographer for our annual Christmas pictures/cards.  We have not had them taken in two years. My youngest of the four reminded me that we are still a family with or without the daughter missing.  We still have many things to be thankful for, especially each other. I get a little frustrated that they do not share the pain that I still do, but they also did not give birth to her, raise and love her as did I. The picture will not be complete.      

The Parable of the Lost Son is a parable I have been visiting quite frequently.  I read with new understanding of this parable.  This son, as my daughter, has squandered much.  My daughter as did the son has had no regard for the course of his/her actions or those that they have hurt while on their selfish journey.  And I ask myself each day, will I be able to be as humble as the father that embraced his son that returned?  Will I be as humble to one day resume a relationship with my daughter if she chooses to come home? Most days I say 'yes', other days, those when I am experiencing humiliation, anger and pain, I tell my self 'no way'.  She deserves what she has created.  I think to myself, why should I allow her to return?  Then, as I go through my day, there may be a sweet reminder of  her and I begin my yearning for her all over again.  

I take each day, day by day, now simply enjoying the family that embraces me and each other.  I am most blessed, but the pain remains. 

There will be family pictures this year with those that choose to be family.  We will continue to create family memories.  We will continue to grow closer and love one another.  We will continue to pray for my missing daughter and my prayer is the "Parable of the Lost Daughter".  

My blessings of three, will remind me to say "cheese".  

His Marks

His Marks 

Everyday, prior to opening the doors of my place of employment, I say a quick prayer and it goes something like this; "Dear Lord, be with me every step of the way, speak through me, guide me, protect me and help me show them who you are throughout my day."  Sometimes I say this prayer in my car before I escape it's protection and often times as I walk to the building. Either way, I do not feel I could do my job without asking for help each morning.  As I enter my office, I take a deep breath and begin.  The phone rings and I hear their voices.  I converse with terminally ill people and their families all day long, eight often times nine hours a day.  

I do not see their faces, their expressions, their frail bodies nor do I see the conditions in which they are living, but I hear their voices.  Some of the people to whom I speak with are living in pure fear, anxiety, anger and often times feel the betrayal by their loved ones and by their God.   

I listen.

Some people I talk to throughout my day are those living with hope, gentleness and patience of what to come in their end days.

I listen.

Each day I converse with many different people from many different backgrounds, of many different races, culture and socio-economic status and with various emotions from bouts of yelling, crying and to often times, words of gratefulness and wisdom from those that are dying.  I try to place myself in their shoes, but ultimately, I cannot.  They are experiencing a life altering, life changing, and end to their life here on earth.  I am not them and I do not pretend to be, but I do... listen. 

When I leave those doors each day I am emotionally exhausted.  My emotions are usually all over the place ranging from anger to sadness.  Sometimes I spiral out of control when I arrive home often times placing those emotions onto my family.  They do not understand, but they listen.  

All of the people that I speak with each day are transitioning from the conflict of what has been known on this earth and the dying to self to the coming into the unknown, the full communion with Christ. They are learning to fully surrender themselves to Christ to the gateway of heaven. And in this deliverance into the gateway of heaven the gravity of earth and all of the earthy memories are playing tug of war with them and their loved ones.  

I listen.

As I enter into my work place asking God to help me to help them, I leave thanking God for them actually helping me.  Each day God placed a mark on me by each of the people I encountered by conversation.  I rarely end a phone conversation without someone giving me 'words of wisdom' and blessings. They are dying to self and prayer is their only priority.  They have become totally dependent on God. 

The people that I encounter remind me of the Cheetah.  Often times they are swift in to kill in their harsh words with me and in other times graceful in their strength to surrender.  The strength and the majestic marks of the Cheetah also remind me of what God gives us each day.  He gives us gentleness, patience, humility, compassion, and kindness and he is swift to come to our aid granting us protection and strength to our day.    It is in the course of prayer that we learn the true state of things-that we are dependent upon God.

The marks on Christ after his Crucifixion places a mark on us.  This mark is a constant reminder of his love for us.  

The mark on Christ is a mark of true surrender.

James 4:7-8 "So then, submit yourselves to God.  Resist the Devil, and he will run away from you.  Come near to God and he will come near to you."

Hallelujah

Two weeks ago I sang praises of Hallelujah to my God. 

I broke bread with my daughter for the first time in nine months.

My daughter walked away from our family and God nine months ago.

My daughter left no forwarding address.

My daughter has been dancing blind folded with the devil.

My daughter can't see his evil ways.  The devil is good, very good at disguising his evil ways.

My heart aches for my daughter.  I looked into her eyes the morning we broke bread and I cried.  No tissue could wipe away all of the tears that fell that morning.  Tears of joy and pain.  The pain is raw, indescribable.

My heart is vulnerable, constantly reminiscing of our times together, hopeful wishing that again our hearts will be reunited, as well as our family.

My heart aches because she walked away for God and is dancing with all of the earthly temptations.

My heart feels betrayal.  Betrayal from her and from the company in which she keeps. 

My heart sang hymns of hallelujah for God's blessing that joyous day.  I looked into her eyes and saw my little girl.  She has beautiful  eyes.  I melt when I look into her eyes. All the pain goes away for that moment when I see her eyes.  She allowed me to see her eyes.  For this I am thankful.

In all of my unworthiness, God gave me the gift to see my daughter again.

I do not know when I will see her again. 

I will sing continuous praises of hallelujah to my God for this day.  God gave me hope.

This day will be a new memory and blessing that God has given me.

Each day I pray she will be in the arms of God.  I am hopeful that she will walk with Him again, hand in hand.  He will open his arms to her and she will fall into them and we will all sing praises of hallelujah to God this up and coming day.

Each day I pray she will cleanse herself of sin and bathe in the waters of her baptism with God and her church. 

Praise God in his holy sanctuary;
     give praise in the mighty dome of heaven.
Give praise for his might deeds,
     praise him for his great majesty.
Give praise with blasts upon the horn,
     praise him with harp and lyre.
Give praise with tambourines and dance,
     praise him with flutes and strings.
Give praise with crashing cymbals,
     praise him with sounding cymbals.
Let everything that has breath
     give praise to the Lord!
            HALLELUJAH!
                  Psalm 150 1-6


I pray that my daughter's actions will be transformed
into to a graceful butterfly.
I pray she will soar with simplicity, grace and peace.
I pray for her transformation and a rebirth in Christ.
I pray as she takes flight, that her flight will bring her home
with her family and with her God.  Amen.

Plumbing Problems

        
I woke up this morning only to find out that all three of my bathrooms, in different parts of my home had flooded.  I stayed up late last night, around 12:30, a behavior of mine that is becoming a habit only to wake by 5:30 to get ready for work. Five hours is not enough sleep for me to produce work for 8 hours.  By mid afternoon I am exhausted.  Trying to keep my head from hitting my desk and drool from escaping my mouth has become an exercise in itself. I may be exaggerating a bit, but I do have to create a strategy so I do not inadvertently go to sleep.

As much as I hate being tired in the day, I do enjoy staying up late.  My neighborhood is quiet, everyone in my house is asleep, with the exception of a few howls by my beloved dog and the quietness gives way for some really one on one time with God.

Last night prior to bedtime I prayed that God would cleanse me of negative thoughts.  I ask him to help me start the day with a shield of armor to protect me so the devil would not steal my joy.  I wanted to flush away all my fears and remove anything that would possibly hold me back from doing His will. 

This morning as I arose from my short, but deep slumber, I was anything, but happy. I could not determine where the water was coming from nor could I figure out why God had decided of all days, that this needed to be the day to flood my home. I was angry and quick tempered, mostly because I did not have enough sleep and I also knew I would have to stay home to deal with this issue.  

I called two very trusted neighbors/friends and was given a name of a good plumber.  At 7:00 in the morning I called a plumber and by 9:30 he had arrived and discovered that my pipes under my home had broke.  There were tree roots growing through the pipes and they had shifted and in order fro the plumber to fix the problem he was going to have to replace my pipes by digging under my home.  Our home sits on a concrete slab. 

The plumber showed me through the camera that went through the pipes the breakage of the pipes and showed me how the pipeline is not straight.  It was jagged and curved and thorny by the roots of the trees that had grown into the pipes and there was no longer a straight line, but rather pipes broken in pieces and twisted.  It was a sight to be seen, one of which I had never saw until now.  

The plumber stated that he would get someone to my home today to help him get this problem repaired. I am without water for awhile.  The price tag is very expensive, at least in my pocketbook.  

I started praying again.  I was trying to figure out what God had in mind for me today. It probably meant nothing, but I listened to God as the plumber left, my husband went back to work and I just sat and listened.  

As I was relating these pipes to my life, God explained it in a very simple way for my understanding.  The pipes under my house were filled with gunk and or sins.  My heart was the same.  Both pipes and heart have to be cleansed.  If the pipes get cleared the water will run freely.  If I clear my heart, I will be free to accept God's will for me.  He is my pipeline.  I can go to God through all the twists and turns in my life and climb over all the roots and thorns and take detours, but there is always a straight and simple pipeline to him and that is through His love for us.  By getting the pipeline free and clear of all the gunk and sins in our life we will be able to experience God's loving presence in our life and He will pour His Spirit unto to us.  We need a channel for His Love and this channel is crucial.   

These clogged, twisted and broken pipes under my house are a reminder to me of how important we need to be free of sin.  The channel to God's love is good plumbing to the heart.  

It seems all to extreme to have my pipes clogged in order for me to get the big picture today.  I guess I'm that kind of girl.  I never get the subtle hints that God gives me.  I have to have a huge plumbing bill and no water in order to understand the message he is trying to give me. 

"Love the LORD your God, listen to His voice, and hold fast to Him, For the LORD is your life."  Deuteronomy 30:20

So for today, "Away goes trouble, down the drain.............."

Where's My Passion

Passion: A strong feeling about something which could be enthusiasm, excitement or possibly anger that causes you to act in a certain way.  A conviction or emotion (which there are many) about something or someone in particular.  

I'd like to think that I have many passions, some of which I have denied myself lately.  One of those passions that I have denied most recently is the ability to find time to sit, think, pray and write.  It (writing) has become frozen in time, a ramification if you will, due to many unforeseen circumstances that have positioned themselves more important in my life. 

My attention has been directed towards my family and all of life's precarious events which brought about many twists and turns in my journey towards God. I don't believe I disregarded my passion for writing, it just became less important or perhaps I put less emphasis on it in a certain moment in time.  

In my journey with God, I have staggered, clambered and hobbled in my moments of despair with Him and with the many obstacles that were brought into the life of my family.  Walking with God would have been much easier in these really challenging moments, and I can say, I did walk with him at times, but I also chose to adventure away from Him. I'm not proud to address my weakness. Admitting my weakness is humbling and in addressing my weakness I become vulnerable and in that vulnerability I am confronted with the very pain that that made me turn away.  

I am a mother.  A mother four times over. A mother that loves her family with a genuine passion.  A passion that is so deep, so misunderstood, so raw that the only one that could possibly understand my passion is my God.  When my children hurt, I hurt.  When my children laugh, I laugh. In all the emotions of a child, young or old, a mother feels it twice. God feels it too.  We are His children.  

"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life." John 3:16 

I read this verse very slowly.  And each time, at different times in my life, I try to understand the depth of His love for me and you. I know without a doubt that when I am in pain, God too is in pain.  When I am smiling, he smiles, as well.  He is my Father as is yours.  My children do not understand the debts of my pain when they are in pain and joy that I have when they are happy. I do not understand the pain and joy I give God.  

For now, I am sitting, writing and praying once again to my Father, letting him know that in all my pain and joy I too love him. 

Frozen In Time

Imagine being frozen in time. Imagine having a bad hair day and someone captures that moment by taking a picture of you and then sending that picture around the world as the world views your outer appearance. Imagine your body being set in stone unable to move or partake in daily activities, but your mind is still able to think beyond the movement of your body. Imagine not being able to move forward with the growth of your spirit even though you might be willing, but unable to do so because of an inability to have free will.

The picture of the two stone figures reminds me of what can happen if we refuse growth. These stone bodies are screaming for help. These two people are stuck in time unable to feel, to move, to think or to love.

Sometimes I feel like stone when my thoughts start swirling, but my will won’t budge. I have been very complacent in my relationship with my Lord lately. The thought of leaving the comforts of my current relationship of what I know and feel and reach beyond this daily comfort level into an area of volunteer vulnerability draws questions as to why in the world would I choose to go this route? To escape from the ordinary is totally uncharacteristic of me, which is why I have been frozen in time to the idea that "it is what it is". I admit that to convert my heart and move forward with God in a new direction is an utterance that is uncharacteristic of me in these last three years. I have been so busy and consumed with the lives of my children that I have often put God on the back burner. I haven't moved forward with Him for several years. I have just been maintaining what is comfortable and takes least effort. I believe I have grown tired of searching for the intellectual answers of "why God this" and "why God that", that in my search I discovered that it is not so much the answers that I need, in so much, as a deeper relationship that I need to ensue.

Boring to most, but the contemplative idea of stepping out of my comfort zone or should I say "our" comfort zones to engage in a Christian tradition which is not new to most is foreign to my current standing with our Lord and at most, a bit frightful to engage or forge into a new balance with Him as I disconnect from the past in order to gain a new awareness and meaningfulness in my life with Him.

So much has happened in the life of my family in the last several years. My daughter described her life as a roller coaster ride when the roller coaster takes your stomach all the way from the top to the bottom, then you puke. I think that is very descriptive of how I feel as well. All in all, it is hard to make sense of it all and I’m not really sure I’m suppose to. Most of the drama in my life has really occurred in the life of my children’s, but as they are my children and the center of my life, drawing the line between the mother and child is not at all an easy task. Mothers will always feel their children's pain and sorrows and oftentimes own it themselves. When my children would scrape their knee or bump or bruise their chin I know my body felt their pain too. It is just the connection that we have with our children. It is the same connection that our Lord has with us. I think we could all feel His passion for us if we would let Him inside instead of pushing Him away. We are His children. When we ache, bump or bruise our bodies, He feels our pain. I have pushed Him away and have only been focusing on my own children. I have been so consumed with their matters that my own spiritual life has been hindered or masked by their issues.

Each day I find ways to Thank God for all the joys and pains that enter my life. However, in thanking Him I do not believe that I have been a true witness of God's love and generosity to those that I am around. I complain and in that complaining it is hard to spread God's joy. I can honestly say I have been disconnected in what I need to do rather than what I am doing. I am ashamed.

This is a new season in the Christian calendar. In this season it is our responsibility to reconcile ourselves to God. To go into the desert and find God, to find our authentic self, to find balance, harmony, and symmetry in our daily lives. This alone would do each of us justice. To let go of what is holding us back, to reach to a higher ground with God is vital in moving forward with our relationship with Him.

I'm not sure I really know how to move forward. It is hard to do something different in our routine of things. When we are used to doing something one way it is difficult to see the possibilities of another. My daughter said I have already written about self-pity. I hope this doesn't come across like self-pity, but rather about finding ourselves in God, not just in our day to day occurrences, but in our journaling, in our prayer lives, in how we encounter each other and circumstances of our days and more importantly in how we decide to make changes and owning our failures and being willing to change them.

In the season of reconciliation, I confess I have been self- absorbed in thinking I can what I can't change by myself, and loath in my own self disillusionment of my own troubles of my day. I confess that I have not been the most joyful person in the last several years. I confess that I have allowed my spirit to remain stagnant and continued to justify its’ stagnation. I confess I have not been the most outward sign of God's Love.

It is time then to confess, to move forth and begin the process of change. I confess to you, my weakness and my failures as I move past the past and embrace the new.

"I was like a stone lying in the deep mire; and He that is mighty came, and in His mercy lifted me up, and verily raised me aloft and place me on the top of the wall." St Patrick of Ireland.

I’m not sure of the steps of change yet, but in His abundance grace and mercy I will ask Him to send forth the wisdom of change.

One thing I do know for sure, I do not want a heart as cold as stone.

The Hand That Gives

          

This is the had that gave and still gives today.  It is the hand of an abundance of love, compassion, a hand that empathized, sympathized, accepted and healed.  It is the hand of my mother's. Unquestionable, undeniably that hand that guided me as a child is still guiding me as an adult. Her hand and heart are still guiding me today through the joys and trials of today.

 
My mother and I do not live in the same state. Since the day I became a married woman I have never lived close by, usually a good 10 hours away from the casual  knocking of her door.  I have spent many hours talking on the phone with her sharing my life with her and hers with me.  Each morning we make a call to one another and have our morning coffee together sharing our past day and what is anticipated to come.  It is the only way in which we remain connected in our day without the physical presence.

 
One day as I was visiting her we were driving around town trying to find a place for me to do a photo shoot.  Trying to find an unusual or quaint subject matter was hard that day.  I believe it is easier to find what you are looking for when your are not actually searching as was the case this day. We stopped on the side of the road this day when my mother saw a local farmer selling his goods.  My mother loves getting her vegetables and fruits from local farmers. She loves the perfect home grown tomatoes.  It was then that I snapped the shot with my camera and it wasn't until later that I discovered the beauty in this picture.  My mind was flooded with memories of how her hands raised me, loved me and healed me.  When looking at her hands I feel a sense of tranquility, history and an undeniable love for her.

As a mother myself I have had to try to fill the shoes of my own mother.  It is not an easy task and I don't suppose I will ever fill them quite like her.  However,  just recently I have had to help my daughter "shelf" some profound fears that she was experiencing.  I'm not sure if I am doing a very good job in helping her cope with these fears because I too live the fear that she is enduring.  In comforting her, holding her and loving her, I as a mother  have to assure her through my faith that God will take care of all things.  In expressing this belief to her I have to believe this myself or my words are only words. 

 
My  mother showed her belief through her hands.  Her hands were the instrument of her belief in God.  Her hands give through understanding as they hold and comfort and give. Sometimes in my mothering I think I always have to verbally express my thoughts to my children when really all I need to do is just listen and comfort with my hands, eyes, ears and heart. This is quality of love that my mother has and is one in which I wish I could quickly acquire.

I think I will share this beautiful quote with my daughter that I found from St. Francis de Sales, he states "Do not look forward to what may happen tomorrow.  The same Everlasting Father, who takes care of you today, will take care of you tomorrow.  He will either shield you from suffering, or give you unfailing strength to bear it.  Be at peace then, and put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginations."

I hold my daughter's joy and pain in my hands as does my mother who holds mine.  Today I offer no advise but only action as I take my daughters pain and fear and offer it to my Lord and ask  my Lord like my own mother does, to shield us from suffering and give us strength to endure.

 
Come hold my hand daughter.  Let’s take a walk..

Home Sweet Home

 

            

I took a trip this weekend.  I wish I could say it was all for leisure, rest and relaxation although it was somewhat of the opposite.  I took my daughter to visit a college that she might be interested in attending next fall.  It is really weird because when my husband and myself got married he began his career as a professor at this college and the town was our first home.  Our first daughter went to college there and now our second daughter seems to wants the same.

 
I took the usual campus tour, talked with an advisor and enjoyed lunch with my girl.  She is all to ready to move on, get out of our home and become a little more independent or less dependent upon her parents.  Not sure if that will be the case, but we'll all give it a try.  She wants to fly and I want her to experience the flight.  After all, she's 20 and it is time for her to explore.

 
Prior to coming on our little college journey, I recently went for a walk down the street from my home and  saw the strangest sight next to the sidewalk.  There were mounds upon mounds of ant homes positioned on the edge of the concrete. It sounds funny saying ant homes, like they are people homes, but these mounds of dirt really are the homes for the ants, where the ants work, sleep, (I really don't know if ants sleep), and play (I don't know know if ants play either, maybe just have ant family time).  These ants were scurrying around their mounds building and perfecting the dirt that constituted their home. Some mama or papa ant was directing these baby or teen ants to do their job or pull their weight in maintaining the home estate.  Everyone had a purpose, so it seems from the onlooker of the human eye.

My daughter wants to learn to become more responsible, manage her own household, and to continue to educate her mind so she may later reap the benefits of a nice job once she holds her college degree.  The cost of education is overwhelming to me, daunting if you will, but nothing slows her down, not a worry in the world, she just pushes forward with all the faith and determination that everything will just fall into place. 

  
I worry about my daughter going to college.  Sometimes she doesn't work like an ant at our house.  Her room is always messy, her laundry basket is spilled over onto the floor and her mess lingers into the bathroom or onto her car.  She rarely takes care of these issues that bother her mother without being asked, told or having a "stick" shook at her, if you will. So, my question is "how will she manage by herself?"

 
While watching these ants maneuver over and around each other trying to get their work done I thought about my daughter.  My thoughts were "will she get her work done?  Will she be motivated to do it on her own, will she take pride that she is on her own and step up to the mound and take charge of her home and the work that needs to be done?"  There are many other questions that concern me about her being vigilant about her independence but more importantly, the question I ask most is "did I teach her what she needs to know to go it alone without stumbling and falling or having other ants crawl all over her in accomplishing their tasks?  Will she fail or will she succeed?

It will take another visit before we secure her home. We just toured and received advisement today.  I have ample time to cram more mothering in before she leaves.

 
One thing I know for certain, we will never know all that we need to know.  There is only one person that has all the answers and she will need to know to go to Him for guidance, acceptance, strength and the answers that she needs.

 
"My child, don't forget what I teach you.  Always remember what I tell you to do.  My teaching will give you a long and prosperous life.  Never let go of loyalty and faithfulness.  Tie them around you neck; write them on your heart.  If you do this, both God and people will be pleased with you." Proverbs 3:1-4

Gotta go, I have mounds of laundry, the smell of my home sweet home....

Grounded

This weekend I went to a swim meet at the University of Texas. The weather was beautiful and it was around 75 degrees, warm enough that you would want to be outside enjoying the weather versus being inside a dry humid natatorium. I'm loyal and I sat inside watching my son swim. He didn't have a great meet. It was the state swim meet so all is fair in saying "his mom thought he did great just because he made it to districts, regional's and then to state". He had a bad ear infection and a sinus infection and with those two combinations, swimming was not really in the cards for him this weekend. He said "thinking about diving into the water hurts before I even do it", so you can only imagine how it really felt when he did. He was also on 9 medications for his ears, sinuses and his asthma. Nine too many if you ask me! He had to swim at this meet for his school, his team and for himself. His participation was vital! He couldn't quit, give up, or opt out.

He gave it his all. He swam hard, he swam fast, he was determined to help his team mates. After the preliminaries the first day, I could tell his coach was a little disappointed. In my heart I was hoping that the coach would not shower this disappointment onto my son. We (his father and myself) were outside waiting for him to greet us after the prelims were over. We were not sure what reaction we were going to get from him once he arrived. I knew I was just going to smile and give him the best hug ever .

Not to soon after the prelims, he came bounding out the doors with the biggest smile on his face. He said "how'd ya like that swim?" all the while laughing and smiling and enjoying our presence. There was not one grin of disapproval from us nor was there an ounce of disapproval displayed in his behavior. He knew he might not do as well as he expected due to his illness, but that illness did not give him permission to pout. He tried as best as he could and he smiled about his performance. He would not let us pout either.

My son was grounded. He was not grounded in terms of being in trouble with his mom and dad, but grounded in the fact that it was just a swimming event. Grounded in the fact that life goes on even though he might not have been number one or two or three..... He was grounded that he was still thankful for his success. He was grounded that his parents loved him no matter how he swam. He was grounded that his team mates were proud of him, and coach was proud of him. He was grounded by the fact that God gave him a remarkable talent to share with others.

If we do not keep our feet planted on the ground like the roots of a tree that hold the trunk upright, we will loose our footing on the ground in our morals and values. We will fall short of the lessons in life in our growth and development with our families, friends and more importantly our relationship with the Lord.

There was a time in my son's swimming career that I as his mother was not as patient towards his swimming. I felt that as much money that his father and myself were paying, he should be at least in the top eight in all his events, all the time, well not all the time but most of the time. I was not the most tolerant of mothers. I just thought that he was not trying hard enough or giving up. All the while the lessons that I learned were that there are many factors that play in the outcome of his performance. One is his physical health and two is his mental health (readiness for the event) and three which is probably more important is his support from his parents and those that love him and to let him know just how much he is love in and out of the water. He has to know that we support him regardless of the outcome. I believe I always supported him regardless, but my words may not have always voiced that to him. I have learned a lot about competition. My dad used to say a saying to my children and it resonates in my ear this weekend and it goes like this..." Good, better,best, never let it rest until your good becomes better and your better becomes best!" I think this just means that you need to try your best and don't give up or settle.

As I walked out waiting for my son to arrive from competition, a massive tree stood in the middle of the walk way. It was well grounded by it's roots as is my son. I hope my son remains grounded. I hope he remains obedient to God's purpose for his life.

"Obedience is a virtue of so excellent a nature, that Our Lord was pleased to mark its observance upon the whole course of His life; thus He often says, He did not come to do His Own will, but that of His Heavenly Father." --St. Francis de Sales

My son's roots just spread a little deeper this weekend. I just hope no one tries to dig them up.