I have to admit…I was feeling a certain kind of way as I got in the car after my hair appointment.
“Jesus, let it not be as short as it looked in the big mirror.”
” Jesus, let that “bowl cut” I saw staring back at me just be due to the fact that my need for glasses was not just for reading anymore.”
“Jesus, let that sticker I see “objects may appear closer than they are” really mean “your hair may appear shorter than it is.”
No such luck. As I looked at my reflection and then down at the Pinterest picture on my phone that I showed my hairdresser, only one thing was certain:
This isn’t what I asked for.
I had to laugh at myself for a minute because I realized that it was my own darn fault. I’ve been coming to this guy for 20+ years. He cuts and dries my hair in 30 minutes, he’s still only charging $50 for a cut, and I can go at least 10 weeks before I’m tempted to take the scissors to my bangs. That’s like unheard of in Los Angeles! He does straight hair really, really good. And for this curly-haired girl who’s always wanted straight hair, he’s been a blessing. But I’ve been down this road before. I know he’s not good at color, and he’s not good at curls.
It’s funny how life can feel like that more days than others. I’ve written about self-pity before, but now looking back at my life 6 years ago and my life now…I kinda want to go back and slap some sense into myself. Although I recognize there have been times in my life that I’ve been limited to what I could and could not choose to do, this season is so much different.
I realize that my life does have, what appears to be, a few circumstances that have created limits to what I can and can’t do. At times, I imagine it feels like my friends who have kids or are married. Your life and your life choices don’t only affect you. And although I am neither married, or have children, I currently have some life circumstances that carry a different weight of responsibility than that girl who was just feeling overlooked and uninvited to a few shin digs.
Just like my haircut, I used to have a picture of what I wanted my life to look like. By now, I thought I’d be going on 20+ years of marriage. The stretch marks I see on my stomach would have been from having a few kids, not from years of yo-yo dieting and bad health decisions. The house I was living in was supposed to be mine, not the one my Dad passed away in 2 years ago. I wouldn’t have a front row seat in watching my mom navigate widowhood 24/7. Instead, I’d have a front row seat in watching my parents live out their last days in their dream home together, loving on their grandkids and their other daughter, our dog Daisy. I’d actually be longing for the days I had a moment to myself. I would be in that familiar rhythm with a husband who adored me, so it wouldn’t matter how freakin’ short my hair was…he’d be happy on the days I brushed it and put on a little make up, because it would remind him of the girl he fell in love with.
Recently, my pastor preached a sermon he entitled, “The Devil Made Me View It.” It was all about recognizing that although the devil is real and he is a liar, a lot of what happens in my life can’t be blamed on “the devil made me do it,” but rather on how “the devil made me view it.” The devil never told Eve to eat the apple. Instead, he asked the question “Did God really say…” so that she would change her perspective and then actually move out of alignment with God.
Often times, God will allow us to be in a place of discouragement so we can be reminded that He is with us, He is for us and He is faithful. It’s just a matter of a perspective shift. Even Jesus had that moment, and the vulnerability to ask, “Father is there ANY other way?” But Jesus quickly had the perspective shift, “not My will, but Yours.” It brought Him into alignment with the Father’s will and the rest is history!
What my hair mishap reminded me of today on my 48th birthday is that I’m a different girl than that girl who has asked, “Why am I not where I want to be?” And although the last 2 years have been some of the hardest moments of my life thus far, it has also been the biggest perspective shifter in how I view myself and how I view God. I do allow myself that moment, every so once in a while, to look in the mirror and say to God “this isn’t what I asked for.” But the difference now is that He has brought me to a place of quickly getting back into alignment with His will for my life. He has already told me and shown me who I am in Him. He’s put the desires in my heart and He is faithful. I don’t care what it looks like, I now hold onto my heavenly perspective. And this perspective could have never come without experiencing the lowest of low moments, only to be surrounded by His presence, and then reminded of His strength, that lives inside of me.
So, this morning when I woke up and stumbled into the bathroom only to be greeted by a girl one year older with really short hair…I wiped the gunk out of my eyes and took out all my best curling products. I re-washed my hair and styled it as best I could. Even though it’s not what I asked for, it will grow back. I still have a really good head of hair on me. This will be SO much easier to cover the gray, and it literally takes ¼ of the time to get ready.
Today’s Forecast: It may not be what I asked for…
Silver Lining: …but it is how I see it.
Friday, February 21, 2020
Saturday, January 4, 2020
A Love Letter From Dad
Recently, we were asked to begin to think about what the gospel means to us. I’m on a church staff, so that should be easy, right? Yet, I have to be honest, I wasn’t sure how to answer that in a cohesive thought. I felt like I was in the front row of an A.R. Bernard sermon about to be asked the “easiest” question and my mind goes blank so I crawl under the pew assuming the fetal position sucking my thumb. Okay, so a little dramatic…but really, I know I should always be prepared to give an answer for this hope that I have. I guess where I get tripped up is thinking that it has to be this really deep thought/sermon that explains the origins of everything with slides to go with it.
So I sat on it for a while.
The first thought that came to mind is me sitting in my catechism class probably in 4th or 5th grade. I remember the “Good News” book being in the front of the class. I don’t remember ever getting to open it until then, and I’m not sure I even realized it was a bible…or portions of it. It couldn’t be the same old black bible with gold pages that was sitting in the small makeshift library of the wall unit in the living room. You know, the room only special guests on holidays get to sit in? I mean, you had to be really careful even touching that book…and I remember having to be oh so careful dusting it.
Wow, how my relationship with that “book” has changed since I started my relationship with Jesus. I still have the first bible someone gave me, and now I have probably about 20 of them in all different colors and translations. There’s usually one in a bag, in a bookcase, in my car, at my desk. I can’t remember the first time I actually wrote in one, but I’m sure I flinched a bit when I did. It wasn’t until I accepted Christ into my life that I learned that I could not only start to have a relationship with Him, but with the Word as well. One of the first verses I was told to memorize in my new relationship was John 1:1, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”
The Word was God…the WORD was GOD! I guess I could understand why we were all so concerned with bending the pages! But just as my relationship with my Lord and Savior had changed, my relationship with the Word followed suit. It was no longer a relationship I had through someone else. It was a living and breathing and open to me to read, digest, question, meditate on, and run to. It’s a relationship that continues to develop day by day, the more time I spend with it and meditate on it, like any relationship, the more I learn about what He is saying to me, who I am, and what I believe through the humans He chose to communicate His Word through. The Word is a road map meets character builder meets a poetic love letter.
And that’s when it hit me…the gospels ARE like a love letter from Dad.
I’m not sure how long everything in life will come back to losing my Dad, but I’m grateful that in the midst of such a sad season, my Heavenly Dad reveals a little bit more of Himself to me. For the last month, I had taken some time off from work to get our house in order…the house that seems to have stood still in all its “stuff” for the last 18 months since he left this Earth suddenly. The notes, cards and emails I was finding myself running into from my Earthly Dad were similar to some of the “notes” I have read and learned from in the Bible from my Heavenly Dad.
Love Note #1: I love you.
My earthly Dad was really good at making sure I knew he loved me. He started out showing that to me very early in life by remembering every Valentine’s day, every birthday, every Christmas… I have so many cards that he wrote just to me, even in the awkward teenage years, or the years I wasn’t living at home, just to make sure I knew he loved me. And in turn, any time someone compliments me on my ability to “love well,” I know it’s in part because my Dad showed me how.
Our heavenly Dad says in John 3:16 that He loves us so much, He sacrificed His one and only son. In 1 John 4 He says our ability to love others is because He loved us first. In Matthew 10:30 He says He knows every hair on our heads and in Psalm 139 He says He knows all our ways…and He still loves us! I don’t know about you…but I got a lot of ways…and a lot of those ways are let’s just say…hard to love. So He made sure to let me know…yes…I even love THAT way of yours.
Love Note #2: I know sometimes you might do wrong. I still love you.
I knew when my earthly Dad was upset with me. Most times he was upset with me, he really had reason to be. Funny enough, I was the “good kid” in the family, meaning I hardly ever got in trouble. There was never a parent meeting to talk about my grades. When he told me I was too young for red lipstick, I took it off immediately. There was never a late night call to pick me up from jail. But there were some emails I came across that he sent after we had a disagreement. Many of those emails would either end in some sort of “funny” or be followed up by an encouraging email chain he had received. I loved when they had to do with faith.
Our heavenly Dad says in Luke 15 that even when we get off track, He’s going to be there when we return. Even when we think we are unworthy, His Word says He loves us just the same and will celebrate our return to Him. In Jeremiah 31, He says He loves us with an everlasting love, and will build us up again.
Love Note #3: I love you so much, I took your pain for you.
My earthly Dad loved music. He loved finding songs that fit every situation. He loved everything from Motown to Country to Pitbull…yes, Pitbull. His all-time favorite was Ray Charles. I remember after a really hard time in my late teens, we were driving home from somewhere and it’s like he knew I was in the backseat feeling sad about a boy. He put on Ray Charles’ rendition of “If I Could.” If you don’t know it, it’s basically a song about a Dad wising he could take the place of his child during the lonely years. I know a lot of times, even when he was upset with decisions we made that put us in the middle of pain, he wished he could take the pain for us.
As Romans 5 says it, our heavenly Dad demonstrated how He loves us by sacrificing His only son when we were still sinners. And in 1 Corinthians 13 He lets us know He hasn’t kept an account of what we have done, but instead believes the best of us. Even in our wrongdoing, His love never fails or leaves.
Love Note #4: I want you to love yourself the way I love you. And I want you to love others the way you love yourself.
One of the things that always blew me away about my earthly Dad is how he loved others. The crazy thing was that he didn’t really have a Dad himself that showed him that kind of love. And maybe it was because of that that my Dad always had an eye for those who had been forgotten. I heard so many stories of the “love notes” my Dad had sprinkled through out his life after he passed away. The single moms who worked for him and said it was his encouragement and words that helped them to now run large corporations. The family members he would drive hours to pick up so they wouldn’t be alone on Christmas. The young men who others disregarded that came forth and said how my Dad taught them everything they knew about management…he even sent one of them to Vegas when they were 21 years old!
Although our heavenly Dad may never send us to Vegas…He does have a way of seeing those who others don’t, and making them feel loved and valued for who they are. In Psalm 65 He reminds us that He is a father to the fatherless. In Psalm 146 He reminds us that he protects strangers and supports the widows. In James 1, He says that pure and undefiled religion in His sight is to visit the orphan and widow in their distress. He has an eye for those people, just like my Dad did…just like we should.
Lastly, Love Note #5: Though we are separated now, we will be together again.
There was no written last note from my earthly Dad. I can’t even remember the last words he said to me, or if I even told him good night before I went to bed on June 18th 2018. So when he passed away suddenly on June 19th, I definitely learned that whole thing about our lives being but a vapor. I still had his Father’s day card that I forgot to write out 2 days prior sitting on the pile of papers in my room. On June 27th, I wrote him my last love note on Earth in that card and placed it in his coffin. I let him know how much I had learned from his life, and that I’d take care of Mom until she joined him in heaven.
My heavenly Dad loves me so much, that He didn’t let the love letters stop there. On July 19th, 10 days before my Dad’s Celebration of life, I found a letter in my parent’s safety deposit box at the bank. My Dad was the only one who had access to it to that point – my Mom had no idea what we would find in there. In the box, along with banking information, my high school diploma, and a couple of pieces of my Grandma Jo’s jewelry was a letter to my Mom and Dad from my Aunt Ann. A portion of the letter was starred and underlined, and read:
"I talked to Aunt Jo and she told me that Gene was at the age of 1 month “Dedicated to God.” That’s how babies are “Blessed before God.” The church was the Italian Christian Church 215 Travis Ave., Trenton, NJ. The pastor was Rev Guido. They don’t baptize babies, they are blessed with oil.”
I stood in the bank in tears. Of all the things my Dad felt that should be in a safety deposit box in a bank…it felt like another love letter from both my earthly Dad and my Heavenly Dad. A love letter letting me know that they were together in the beginning…and they were together again today.
I started writing this in November of 2019, and am just finishing it up today…I knew it was something I needed to write, but I wasn’t sure why it was taking me so long to put words to paper. Now I know it’s because He was still revealing how wide, and long, and high and deep His love is for me. My prayer for 2020 is that my Heavenly Dad would continue to reveal Himself to me in His love letters…that I would continue to abide in His love and that He would continue to abide in me…until we meet again.
So I sat on it for a while.
The first thought that came to mind is me sitting in my catechism class probably in 4th or 5th grade. I remember the “Good News” book being in the front of the class. I don’t remember ever getting to open it until then, and I’m not sure I even realized it was a bible…or portions of it. It couldn’t be the same old black bible with gold pages that was sitting in the small makeshift library of the wall unit in the living room. You know, the room only special guests on holidays get to sit in? I mean, you had to be really careful even touching that book…and I remember having to be oh so careful dusting it.
Wow, how my relationship with that “book” has changed since I started my relationship with Jesus. I still have the first bible someone gave me, and now I have probably about 20 of them in all different colors and translations. There’s usually one in a bag, in a bookcase, in my car, at my desk. I can’t remember the first time I actually wrote in one, but I’m sure I flinched a bit when I did. It wasn’t until I accepted Christ into my life that I learned that I could not only start to have a relationship with Him, but with the Word as well. One of the first verses I was told to memorize in my new relationship was John 1:1, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”
The Word was God…the WORD was GOD! I guess I could understand why we were all so concerned with bending the pages! But just as my relationship with my Lord and Savior had changed, my relationship with the Word followed suit. It was no longer a relationship I had through someone else. It was a living and breathing and open to me to read, digest, question, meditate on, and run to. It’s a relationship that continues to develop day by day, the more time I spend with it and meditate on it, like any relationship, the more I learn about what He is saying to me, who I am, and what I believe through the humans He chose to communicate His Word through. The Word is a road map meets character builder meets a poetic love letter.
And that’s when it hit me…the gospels ARE like a love letter from Dad.
I’m not sure how long everything in life will come back to losing my Dad, but I’m grateful that in the midst of such a sad season, my Heavenly Dad reveals a little bit more of Himself to me. For the last month, I had taken some time off from work to get our house in order…the house that seems to have stood still in all its “stuff” for the last 18 months since he left this Earth suddenly. The notes, cards and emails I was finding myself running into from my Earthly Dad were similar to some of the “notes” I have read and learned from in the Bible from my Heavenly Dad.
Love Note #1: I love you.
My earthly Dad was really good at making sure I knew he loved me. He started out showing that to me very early in life by remembering every Valentine’s day, every birthday, every Christmas… I have so many cards that he wrote just to me, even in the awkward teenage years, or the years I wasn’t living at home, just to make sure I knew he loved me. And in turn, any time someone compliments me on my ability to “love well,” I know it’s in part because my Dad showed me how.
Our heavenly Dad says in John 3:16 that He loves us so much, He sacrificed His one and only son. In 1 John 4 He says our ability to love others is because He loved us first. In Matthew 10:30 He says He knows every hair on our heads and in Psalm 139 He says He knows all our ways…and He still loves us! I don’t know about you…but I got a lot of ways…and a lot of those ways are let’s just say…hard to love. So He made sure to let me know…yes…I even love THAT way of yours.
Love Note #2: I know sometimes you might do wrong. I still love you.
I knew when my earthly Dad was upset with me. Most times he was upset with me, he really had reason to be. Funny enough, I was the “good kid” in the family, meaning I hardly ever got in trouble. There was never a parent meeting to talk about my grades. When he told me I was too young for red lipstick, I took it off immediately. There was never a late night call to pick me up from jail. But there were some emails I came across that he sent after we had a disagreement. Many of those emails would either end in some sort of “funny” or be followed up by an encouraging email chain he had received. I loved when they had to do with faith.
Our heavenly Dad says in Luke 15 that even when we get off track, He’s going to be there when we return. Even when we think we are unworthy, His Word says He loves us just the same and will celebrate our return to Him. In Jeremiah 31, He says He loves us with an everlasting love, and will build us up again.
Love Note #3: I love you so much, I took your pain for you.
My earthly Dad loved music. He loved finding songs that fit every situation. He loved everything from Motown to Country to Pitbull…yes, Pitbull. His all-time favorite was Ray Charles. I remember after a really hard time in my late teens, we were driving home from somewhere and it’s like he knew I was in the backseat feeling sad about a boy. He put on Ray Charles’ rendition of “If I Could.” If you don’t know it, it’s basically a song about a Dad wising he could take the place of his child during the lonely years. I know a lot of times, even when he was upset with decisions we made that put us in the middle of pain, he wished he could take the pain for us.
As Romans 5 says it, our heavenly Dad demonstrated how He loves us by sacrificing His only son when we were still sinners. And in 1 Corinthians 13 He lets us know He hasn’t kept an account of what we have done, but instead believes the best of us. Even in our wrongdoing, His love never fails or leaves.
Love Note #4: I want you to love yourself the way I love you. And I want you to love others the way you love yourself.
One of the things that always blew me away about my earthly Dad is how he loved others. The crazy thing was that he didn’t really have a Dad himself that showed him that kind of love. And maybe it was because of that that my Dad always had an eye for those who had been forgotten. I heard so many stories of the “love notes” my Dad had sprinkled through out his life after he passed away. The single moms who worked for him and said it was his encouragement and words that helped them to now run large corporations. The family members he would drive hours to pick up so they wouldn’t be alone on Christmas. The young men who others disregarded that came forth and said how my Dad taught them everything they knew about management…he even sent one of them to Vegas when they were 21 years old!
Although our heavenly Dad may never send us to Vegas…He does have a way of seeing those who others don’t, and making them feel loved and valued for who they are. In Psalm 65 He reminds us that He is a father to the fatherless. In Psalm 146 He reminds us that he protects strangers and supports the widows. In James 1, He says that pure and undefiled religion in His sight is to visit the orphan and widow in their distress. He has an eye for those people, just like my Dad did…just like we should.
Lastly, Love Note #5: Though we are separated now, we will be together again.
There was no written last note from my earthly Dad. I can’t even remember the last words he said to me, or if I even told him good night before I went to bed on June 18th 2018. So when he passed away suddenly on June 19th, I definitely learned that whole thing about our lives being but a vapor. I still had his Father’s day card that I forgot to write out 2 days prior sitting on the pile of papers in my room. On June 27th, I wrote him my last love note on Earth in that card and placed it in his coffin. I let him know how much I had learned from his life, and that I’d take care of Mom until she joined him in heaven.
My heavenly Dad loves me so much, that He didn’t let the love letters stop there. On July 19th, 10 days before my Dad’s Celebration of life, I found a letter in my parent’s safety deposit box at the bank. My Dad was the only one who had access to it to that point – my Mom had no idea what we would find in there. In the box, along with banking information, my high school diploma, and a couple of pieces of my Grandma Jo’s jewelry was a letter to my Mom and Dad from my Aunt Ann. A portion of the letter was starred and underlined, and read:
"I talked to Aunt Jo and she told me that Gene was at the age of 1 month “Dedicated to God.” That’s how babies are “Blessed before God.” The church was the Italian Christian Church 215 Travis Ave., Trenton, NJ. The pastor was Rev Guido. They don’t baptize babies, they are blessed with oil.”
I stood in the bank in tears. Of all the things my Dad felt that should be in a safety deposit box in a bank…it felt like another love letter from both my earthly Dad and my Heavenly Dad. A love letter letting me know that they were together in the beginning…and they were together again today.
I started writing this in November of 2019, and am just finishing it up today…I knew it was something I needed to write, but I wasn’t sure why it was taking me so long to put words to paper. Now I know it’s because He was still revealing how wide, and long, and high and deep His love is for me. My prayer for 2020 is that my Heavenly Dad would continue to reveal Himself to me in His love letters…that I would continue to abide in His love and that He would continue to abide in me…until we meet again.
Saturday, August 10, 2019
Letter to My Future Husband
As I was going through some boxes, I came across the journal I started at the end of 2016. Well, I was supposed to start it then...that's when God told me too. I was so afraid to communicate out loud that my heart still desired to be married. I didn't want to be "that" girl at church who continually was waiting for her husband. Instead, I purchased a few really cute journals with the title, "Letters to My Future Husband" for some of my other single friends. Within 2 months, one of those friends was engaged to be married. I'm not sure why I didn't purchase one for me at that point and start writing immediately!
Instead, I took out one of my plain journals and started writing. I was so uncomfortable, but so full of faith at the same time. So far there are three entries. The first two entries were in early 2017. The third entry was May of this year, a day after my Dad's birthday. I had forgotten I wrote it, but remembered what a powerful week that was for me. In the midst of missing my Dad, I believe God gave me a gift of breathing life into some dry bones. Since this last week seems to have had a theme of vulnerability for so many in my life, I'm sharing one of the letter's here.
Dear Future Husband,
Two years have passed since I started writing to you…well, one year and 5 months to be exact! But who’s counting? #Me
A lot has happened this past year and it’s not a surprise to me that writing to you was not at the top of the list. You have definitely been on my mind, no doubt! I have wondered where you are and when you’re going to get here, but have been learning new levels of trusting God’s timing. You will be right on time and I believe you are closer than I know.
This week, I had a moment that seemed to ignite something in me that made me think of you and reminded me of my letters to you. I believe I am in preparation for you, and as that time nears, I am realizing more and more the sting of you not meeting my Dad. Perhaps it’s strong today because his birthday was yesterday. Perhaps it’s the realization that I will walk down the aisle of my friend’s wedding in a few weeks…a trip down the aisle that I imagined would be with my Dad the next time I took it. I had to take a minute to grieve that moment.
I am certain you would have loved him. And I am equally sure that he would have loved you. He only ever really wanted a man who would cherish me. Not just take care of me, but love me for who I am. I believe you will have some of the characteristics of my Dad. You will be smart. You will be wise. You will probably have the gift of negotiation, but not in that bully/intimidating way. You will be able to take control of a room or situation without anyone feeling attacked or discouraged. You will be an encourager. You will recognize the underdog and the forgotten and make sure they feel uplifted and seen. You will be generous with your time and resources. You will love family, even if you didn’t come from the best one. You will be filled with dreams and passionate about life. You will know how to close a deal for the benefit of all involved. I won’t have to chase you because you know a good thing when you see it, and you will let me know how you feel about me. Your words will have a weight to them unlike I've ever experienced in my life. I'll trust that you want the best for me, and that you see the best in me when I can't.
You would have loved him!
You might not get to meet him in this world, but you will get to know him by knowing me…and isn’t that every good Father’s desire?
Thank you for understanding that I may have moments of still dealing with this loss. He left a void in my life and the life of my family for sure, but I don’t expect you to fill that void.
I just look forward to introducing you to the other man who changed my life.
Instead, I took out one of my plain journals and started writing. I was so uncomfortable, but so full of faith at the same time. So far there are three entries. The first two entries were in early 2017. The third entry was May of this year, a day after my Dad's birthday. I had forgotten I wrote it, but remembered what a powerful week that was for me. In the midst of missing my Dad, I believe God gave me a gift of breathing life into some dry bones. Since this last week seems to have had a theme of vulnerability for so many in my life, I'm sharing one of the letter's here.
Dear Future Husband,
Two years have passed since I started writing to you…well, one year and 5 months to be exact! But who’s counting? #Me
A lot has happened this past year and it’s not a surprise to me that writing to you was not at the top of the list. You have definitely been on my mind, no doubt! I have wondered where you are and when you’re going to get here, but have been learning new levels of trusting God’s timing. You will be right on time and I believe you are closer than I know.
This week, I had a moment that seemed to ignite something in me that made me think of you and reminded me of my letters to you. I believe I am in preparation for you, and as that time nears, I am realizing more and more the sting of you not meeting my Dad. Perhaps it’s strong today because his birthday was yesterday. Perhaps it’s the realization that I will walk down the aisle of my friend’s wedding in a few weeks…a trip down the aisle that I imagined would be with my Dad the next time I took it. I had to take a minute to grieve that moment.
I am certain you would have loved him. And I am equally sure that he would have loved you. He only ever really wanted a man who would cherish me. Not just take care of me, but love me for who I am. I believe you will have some of the characteristics of my Dad. You will be smart. You will be wise. You will probably have the gift of negotiation, but not in that bully/intimidating way. You will be able to take control of a room or situation without anyone feeling attacked or discouraged. You will be an encourager. You will recognize the underdog and the forgotten and make sure they feel uplifted and seen. You will be generous with your time and resources. You will love family, even if you didn’t come from the best one. You will be filled with dreams and passionate about life. You will know how to close a deal for the benefit of all involved. I won’t have to chase you because you know a good thing when you see it, and you will let me know how you feel about me. Your words will have a weight to them unlike I've ever experienced in my life. I'll trust that you want the best for me, and that you see the best in me when I can't.
You would have loved him!
You might not get to meet him in this world, but you will get to know him by knowing me…and isn’t that every good Father’s desire?
Thank you for understanding that I may have moments of still dealing with this loss. He left a void in my life and the life of my family for sure, but I don’t expect you to fill that void.
I just look forward to introducing you to the other man who changed my life.
Monday, June 24, 2019
Divine Anointing
You know those times in your life that seem to start just like any other day? But then there’s a moment you feel that has marked you for life? I am excited to say I’ve had a few of those this month. One of them happened a couple of weeks ago when I was asked to give a 7-minute teaching on Divine Anointing at our all staff meeting. Most people who know me know I don’t really like speaking in front of groups. It’s not that I don’t think I have a lot of good things to say, I’m just not always able to get my thoughts out of my mouth. I guess that’s why I’ve always loved to write…sometimes the thoughts come so fast and from so many directions, writing gives me a way to organize them before spitting them out.
I have to say, speaking in front of groups really took a turn last year when I gave a eulogy at my Dad’s celebration of life. Because my Dad died suddenly, I didn’t get to say goodbye. In fact, he died 2 days after Father’s Day, and I never even gave him his Father’s Day card. I had to write out his goodbye and put it in his casket. Yet another moment where I had to write all the things I wish I had been able to get out of my mouth. But as I stood in front of the 100+ guests the day we celebrated his life, I felt an empowering of the Holy Spirit like I had never had before. I was able to say goodbye, and show a side of my Dad that brought him honor and made me proud to be his daughter.
Fast forward to June 12, 2019. I was feeling really challenged at what to share with the staff about Divine Anointing. I’m not the most Bible read, my speaking voice annoys me, and I usually find myself twitching in some way when I have to share in front of a group. Although I’ve lost 30 pounds, I’m still super self-conscious of my body. I can’t stand up and recite a cohesive thought like the Pastors I’ve sat under through the years. I knew I was going to have to write the entire teaching out, and read it straight from a piece of paper. I knew my glasses would slip down my face, and that I’d try to look up and make eye contact, but most likely, I’d be lucky if I didn’t burst into tears at some point, or pass out.
But for whatever reason, God gave me a word and I spoke it the best I could and the response was one I was not expecting. The response was one that you know you really did speak a word from God. And I’m even uncomfortable typing this, but I’m just so blown away that God speaks to me and I hear Him. I mean…duh…He says that He does speak to us, and that we can distinguish His voice, but I’m so blown away that I actually hear it! And that He would allow me to have a moment to believe that my words can carry His power…I’m so grateful! All these years of feeling less than, unheard, and unseen…and He gave me the moment of recognition that His words coming through my voice have His power?! I truly mean it when I say that even if I never have another experience like this, I have been marked for life by it.
One of my favorite people in the world, one that I respect as a leader, a wife, a mom, and a pastor, pulled me aside after the meeting. It felt like God, through her, took my face in His hands and said, “I see you.” She encouraged me to take the pages I read from and frame them. Do whatever it is I need to do to mark the day for myself. I took her words to heart, because I know how important those “days” are…the days that God manifests Himself into a moment that marks your life forever. It was one of those days.
So as an act of obedience, and of vulnerability, this is me framing that day…but differently than I’ve ever done before. Instead of posting the words, I’m posting the video. The barely audible, cracked voice, eye-glass twitching, looked-up-from-the-pages-maybe-twice video, of how I see Divine Anointing. And it doesn’t really matter who does or does not see it…what matters is that God saw me, He sees me, and He has more for me if I trust Him.
Today’s Forecast: Shaky voice with a chance of twitching nerves.
Silver Lining: My take on Divine Anointing.
I have to say, speaking in front of groups really took a turn last year when I gave a eulogy at my Dad’s celebration of life. Because my Dad died suddenly, I didn’t get to say goodbye. In fact, he died 2 days after Father’s Day, and I never even gave him his Father’s Day card. I had to write out his goodbye and put it in his casket. Yet another moment where I had to write all the things I wish I had been able to get out of my mouth. But as I stood in front of the 100+ guests the day we celebrated his life, I felt an empowering of the Holy Spirit like I had never had before. I was able to say goodbye, and show a side of my Dad that brought him honor and made me proud to be his daughter.
Fast forward to June 12, 2019. I was feeling really challenged at what to share with the staff about Divine Anointing. I’m not the most Bible read, my speaking voice annoys me, and I usually find myself twitching in some way when I have to share in front of a group. Although I’ve lost 30 pounds, I’m still super self-conscious of my body. I can’t stand up and recite a cohesive thought like the Pastors I’ve sat under through the years. I knew I was going to have to write the entire teaching out, and read it straight from a piece of paper. I knew my glasses would slip down my face, and that I’d try to look up and make eye contact, but most likely, I’d be lucky if I didn’t burst into tears at some point, or pass out.
But for whatever reason, God gave me a word and I spoke it the best I could and the response was one I was not expecting. The response was one that you know you really did speak a word from God. And I’m even uncomfortable typing this, but I’m just so blown away that God speaks to me and I hear Him. I mean…duh…He says that He does speak to us, and that we can distinguish His voice, but I’m so blown away that I actually hear it! And that He would allow me to have a moment to believe that my words can carry His power…I’m so grateful! All these years of feeling less than, unheard, and unseen…and He gave me the moment of recognition that His words coming through my voice have His power?! I truly mean it when I say that even if I never have another experience like this, I have been marked for life by it.
One of my favorite people in the world, one that I respect as a leader, a wife, a mom, and a pastor, pulled me aside after the meeting. It felt like God, through her, took my face in His hands and said, “I see you.” She encouraged me to take the pages I read from and frame them. Do whatever it is I need to do to mark the day for myself. I took her words to heart, because I know how important those “days” are…the days that God manifests Himself into a moment that marks your life forever. It was one of those days.
So as an act of obedience, and of vulnerability, this is me framing that day…but differently than I’ve ever done before. Instead of posting the words, I’m posting the video. The barely audible, cracked voice, eye-glass twitching, looked-up-from-the-pages-maybe-twice video, of how I see Divine Anointing. And it doesn’t really matter who does or does not see it…what matters is that God saw me, He sees me, and He has more for me if I trust Him.
Today’s Forecast: Shaky voice with a chance of twitching nerves.
Silver Lining: My take on Divine Anointing.
Wednesday, June 19, 2019
This Time Last Year
One of the most powerful sermons I’ve ever heard is the one my pastor gave on September 4, 2016 – This Time, Next Year. It’s about your life changing one year from today. It’s a great message of hope for what’s to come when life isn’t working out the way you thought it would.
But today I’m really thinking about this time LAST year. It’s a day that I need to look back at for a minute. It marks the day that everything changed in my family forever. From this day forward, there will never be another “first time without Dad.” Nope… this time last year was the last day my Dad would take a breath on Earth.
This time last year, we had just celebrated a beautiful Father’s Day with my family. All my brothers came out, which was a first for at least 6 months. A lot had transpired in early 2018, and I really wasn’t sure how this gathering would turn out. In fact, I almost volunteered to work so I wouldn’t have to be there. I’m so glad I didn’t do that. I was able to not only be present, but see that even in the midst of chaos and uncertainty, my family was still my family and a place of joy and laughter. We ate pizza. We played poker. And for whatever reason I felt compelled to take a picture of my Dad and his sons…the last picture that would ever be taken of my Dad.
Two days later, this time last year, I was in the midst of a very busy conference season and a lot of transition at work. My mom called me at 9:30 am to say, “Dad fell!” She was frantic, so I knew it wasn’t just a fall…when she said, “They're working on him now." I knew I needed to get home as soon as my car could get me there. The 40-minute drive was the longest, fastest drive ever. I kept hearing, “He died. He died. He’s gone.” I kept rebuking the thoughts that I was sure were from the pit of hell…only to find out that my brother was on his knees praying for my Dad in his living room after he got the same phone call and was hearing the very same thing. The words, “He’s gone,” were quickly replaced with “Life is but a vapor.” It took a minute for my brain to catch up with what had happened…my Dad was here one night and gone the next morning. It was the most surreal moment of my life.
This time last year, I started a journey of learning all about the peace that surpasses all understanding. I knew my friends were praying for me and praying that I'd experience that type of peace. I can’t even explain how I mustered the strength to call people and tell them my Dad had passed away. How did I set up the celebration of life? How did I drive his clothes down to the mortuary? There is no doubt in my mind that God is close to the brokenhearted. His presence was so thick and so real…it was the most beautifully, painful time of my life. I had joined the “club” that everybody does at some point of their lives, but nobody really talks about…and once you do join, you’re so glad there are others who have joined and navigated it before you.
This time last year, I didn’t fully understand the grief of a widow. I’m not sure I fully understand it now, but having witnessed and walked alongside my Mom during it, it has made me love Jesus all the more. He really understood the pain. It’s why He told people to care for the widow and orphans. I kept thinking, “Wow…this is what they mean when they say until death do us part.” But man, marriage doesn’t seem to end because somebody dies. Like I said, it’s been one of the most beautifully, painful times of my life…and listening to the stories of my Mom and Dad told through the eyes of a widow has just made me appreciate marriage all the more. I haven’t experienced marriage yet, but oh how I will see it differently forever. I remember a friend who was navigating a divorce asked me, “Why does it hurt so much?” The only thing I could think to say, “Well…the Bible says it’s two becoming one flesh, so it must feel like flesh being pulled apart.” I’d say I’ve witnessed the same watching my Mom navigate the loss, but it’s different. No one made the choice to go, but he’s not here anymore.
So today I took the day off. I cried a little. I laughed a little. I remembered a lot. I thanked God for all He has done in this last year. All that He has walked alongside me through. My faith and hope in the future couldn’t be any stronger. This morning during my quiet time I heard the words, “You are your Father’s daughter.” I’m not sure I fully knew or understood that this time last year. But today I know I’ve inherited both my earthly father's and my Heavenly Father's strength.
I am so, so grateful.
Today’s Forecast: A lot of memories.
Silver Lining: A lot of memories.
But today I’m really thinking about this time LAST year. It’s a day that I need to look back at for a minute. It marks the day that everything changed in my family forever. From this day forward, there will never be another “first time without Dad.” Nope… this time last year was the last day my Dad would take a breath on Earth.
This time last year, we had just celebrated a beautiful Father’s Day with my family. All my brothers came out, which was a first for at least 6 months. A lot had transpired in early 2018, and I really wasn’t sure how this gathering would turn out. In fact, I almost volunteered to work so I wouldn’t have to be there. I’m so glad I didn’t do that. I was able to not only be present, but see that even in the midst of chaos and uncertainty, my family was still my family and a place of joy and laughter. We ate pizza. We played poker. And for whatever reason I felt compelled to take a picture of my Dad and his sons…the last picture that would ever be taken of my Dad.
Two days later, this time last year, I was in the midst of a very busy conference season and a lot of transition at work. My mom called me at 9:30 am to say, “Dad fell!” She was frantic, so I knew it wasn’t just a fall…when she said, “They're working on him now." I knew I needed to get home as soon as my car could get me there. The 40-minute drive was the longest, fastest drive ever. I kept hearing, “He died. He died. He’s gone.” I kept rebuking the thoughts that I was sure were from the pit of hell…only to find out that my brother was on his knees praying for my Dad in his living room after he got the same phone call and was hearing the very same thing. The words, “He’s gone,” were quickly replaced with “Life is but a vapor.” It took a minute for my brain to catch up with what had happened…my Dad was here one night and gone the next morning. It was the most surreal moment of my life.
This time last year, I started a journey of learning all about the peace that surpasses all understanding. I knew my friends were praying for me and praying that I'd experience that type of peace. I can’t even explain how I mustered the strength to call people and tell them my Dad had passed away. How did I set up the celebration of life? How did I drive his clothes down to the mortuary? There is no doubt in my mind that God is close to the brokenhearted. His presence was so thick and so real…it was the most beautifully, painful time of my life. I had joined the “club” that everybody does at some point of their lives, but nobody really talks about…and once you do join, you’re so glad there are others who have joined and navigated it before you.
This time last year, I didn’t fully understand the grief of a widow. I’m not sure I fully understand it now, but having witnessed and walked alongside my Mom during it, it has made me love Jesus all the more. He really understood the pain. It’s why He told people to care for the widow and orphans. I kept thinking, “Wow…this is what they mean when they say until death do us part.” But man, marriage doesn’t seem to end because somebody dies. Like I said, it’s been one of the most beautifully, painful times of my life…and listening to the stories of my Mom and Dad told through the eyes of a widow has just made me appreciate marriage all the more. I haven’t experienced marriage yet, but oh how I will see it differently forever. I remember a friend who was navigating a divorce asked me, “Why does it hurt so much?” The only thing I could think to say, “Well…the Bible says it’s two becoming one flesh, so it must feel like flesh being pulled apart.” I’d say I’ve witnessed the same watching my Mom navigate the loss, but it’s different. No one made the choice to go, but he’s not here anymore.
So today I took the day off. I cried a little. I laughed a little. I remembered a lot. I thanked God for all He has done in this last year. All that He has walked alongside me through. My faith and hope in the future couldn’t be any stronger. This morning during my quiet time I heard the words, “You are your Father’s daughter.” I’m not sure I fully knew or understood that this time last year. But today I know I’ve inherited both my earthly father's and my Heavenly Father's strength.
I am so, so grateful.
Today’s Forecast: A lot of memories.
Silver Lining: A lot of memories.
Saturday, March 16, 2019
Superbloom
I found myself in tears as I read through emails that didn’t really matter to the world, but they were the last words my Dad would write. The last ideas he would have had. The last thoughts he would have thunk (so not a word…but I’m crying now and trying to laugh through it.) I wondered why I had to be the one to do this. Why did I have to spend most of my nights home, knee deep in responsibilities with a grieving wife and a dog that whines until you pet her? I was having a major pity party.
As I was sorting through this, along with the gazillion other things that needed to be done, the news came on the tv about the “superbloom” that was going on in the California desert. If you know anything about California, you are aware of the fact that we have been in a drought for a few years now. I’m not sure we’ve had substantial rainfall since I was in college…and let’s just say that was many moons ago!
The newscasters explained that because of the lack of rain, there were seeds that laid dormant in the desert for decades just waiting for the sky to open and dump enough rain to wake them up. Well, it happened this year. And after record rainfall, we now have fields and fields of wildflowers in the desert.
The news snapped me out of my funk. I mean, how profound and biblical is that?! Seeds that have laid dormant for DECADES have been WATERED and have BLOOMED in the DESERT!! If there’s one thing I know about God it's that if He does it for the seeds, then He will do it for me too!
So how do you get through the season before the bloom? Here’s a few things I’ve learned along the way:
Recognize your seeds are dormant, not dead.
This is temporary. And when you forget that, repeat: This. IS. TEMPORARY! I know temporary doesn’t always make me feel better because temporary could be days, months and sometimes years. But what I loved about the story about the Super Bloom is that a lot of times, in the desert seasons, I could start to think that everything is dead. My dreams. My circumstances. My hopes. To know that even in the desert, seeds could just lay dormant and then one day, suddenly, erupt in the most beautiful of flowers made me take a long, much needed sigh. It made me look forward with great expectation to those things that I can’t see now, but believe are coming anyway …hey, that kinda sounds a lot like faith, huh?
Make sure you continue to water the desert.
Those dormant seeds stay dormant unless they receive the rain. Lots of it. When I think about “watering” my desert season, I think about checking my thoughts and my words. Where do I let my mind go? What thoughts do I actually allow to travel from my brain and come out of my mouth? We all know that death and life is in the power of the tongue, so remember to speak life when you find yourself in the desert. Another great way to make sure you are watering well is to surround yourself with others who will water your desert too. The desert season is not a good place to have naysayers, aka hot wind storms, kicking up and making you feel even more parched. It has been important during the desert season to have friends who check me when I begin to waver from speaking life over myself.
Prepare for the impending bloom.
You gotta believe it’s coming and you gotta prepare for when it does! If there’s one thing I have learned in my desert seasons is that I could either waste my time feeling sorry for myself, or I can use my time to prepare for the harvest on the way. Because guess what…that’s what the desert season is for! If I spent my time speaking death over my life, looking forward to nothing and not believing anything is going to change…I’m going to either miss it when it happens, or be so overwhelmed with life that I can’t enjoy the bloom once it’s here. Harvest. IS. Coming! I don’t know when and I don’t know how, but I do know I want to be ready for it. And sometimes that’s hard for people like me who are so used to making things happen. Sometimes God just wants me to lay “dormant” for a while, get some things completed, forgive some people, rest and rest some more. At the right time He will make it happen and I know I will fully bloom into all that I am meant to be.
Today’s Forecast: Rain in the desert. A lot of it.
Silver Lining: Even in the desert, the more rain, the more flowers.
Recognize your seeds are dormant, not dead.
This is temporary. And when you forget that, repeat: This. IS. TEMPORARY! I know temporary doesn’t always make me feel better because temporary could be days, months and sometimes years. But what I loved about the story about the Super Bloom is that a lot of times, in the desert seasons, I could start to think that everything is dead. My dreams. My circumstances. My hopes. To know that even in the desert, seeds could just lay dormant and then one day, suddenly, erupt in the most beautiful of flowers made me take a long, much needed sigh. It made me look forward with great expectation to those things that I can’t see now, but believe are coming anyway …hey, that kinda sounds a lot like faith, huh?
Make sure you continue to water the desert.
Those dormant seeds stay dormant unless they receive the rain. Lots of it. When I think about “watering” my desert season, I think about checking my thoughts and my words. Where do I let my mind go? What thoughts do I actually allow to travel from my brain and come out of my mouth? We all know that death and life is in the power of the tongue, so remember to speak life when you find yourself in the desert. Another great way to make sure you are watering well is to surround yourself with others who will water your desert too. The desert season is not a good place to have naysayers, aka hot wind storms, kicking up and making you feel even more parched. It has been important during the desert season to have friends who check me when I begin to waver from speaking life over myself.
Prepare for the impending bloom.
You gotta believe it’s coming and you gotta prepare for when it does! If there’s one thing I have learned in my desert seasons is that I could either waste my time feeling sorry for myself, or I can use my time to prepare for the harvest on the way. Because guess what…that’s what the desert season is for! If I spent my time speaking death over my life, looking forward to nothing and not believing anything is going to change…I’m going to either miss it when it happens, or be so overwhelmed with life that I can’t enjoy the bloom once it’s here. Harvest. IS. Coming! I don’t know when and I don’t know how, but I do know I want to be ready for it. And sometimes that’s hard for people like me who are so used to making things happen. Sometimes God just wants me to lay “dormant” for a while, get some things completed, forgive some people, rest and rest some more. At the right time He will make it happen and I know I will fully bloom into all that I am meant to be.
Today’s Forecast: Rain in the desert. A lot of it.
Silver Lining: Even in the desert, the more rain, the more flowers.
Thursday, February 14, 2019
My Forever Valentine
“When I think about my Dad, I think about how I always had a Valentine. Every year, since I was born, he did something to remind me that I was loved, whether I had a Valentine or not.”
Those were the first words I spoke at my Dad’s celebration of life last July. They are the words I woke up to this morning in my head. The rain was loud outside, but those words were louder as I slowly pulled myself out of bed to walk to the bathroom that would not have the card and some type of small gift sitting on the counter from him.
Somewhere in the piles of boxes that are in our garage and storage, there are pictures of me as a toddler propped up on our fireplace sitting next to a rose for every year I was alive. At some point, it changed to a card expressing his love for me and a small token of his affection. As I got older, it was sometimes an email or text when I no longer lived under the same roof. But when I moved back in a few years ago, the card on my bathroom sink with a $20 bill was there every Valentine’s morning.
It stung for a minute. The pangs of grief were all the way real this morning. And it wasn’t because I didn’t have a Valentine. It’s because I no longer have the man who reminded me every year that I was loved no matter what on this day. As I’ve grown up and grown older, I have become SO aware of what a Father’s love (or lack thereof) can do.
I had been thinking about today for the last week. Every “first” without my Dad has been an interesting thing. The days I thought would really be hard, sometimes aren’t. And sometimes there are days that sneak up on me out of nowhere. But I knew that walk from my bedroom to the bathroom was going to be hard. And maybe today is hard for you for very different reasons than me, but here’s some things I did to help me through the day:
Today's Forecast: Another Valentine's day without the "one."
Silver Lining: Grateful for the "one" I'll always have in my heart, and the "One" who comforts my heart.
Those were the first words I spoke at my Dad’s celebration of life last July. They are the words I woke up to this morning in my head. The rain was loud outside, but those words were louder as I slowly pulled myself out of bed to walk to the bathroom that would not have the card and some type of small gift sitting on the counter from him.
Somewhere in the piles of boxes that are in our garage and storage, there are pictures of me as a toddler propped up on our fireplace sitting next to a rose for every year I was alive. At some point, it changed to a card expressing his love for me and a small token of his affection. As I got older, it was sometimes an email or text when I no longer lived under the same roof. But when I moved back in a few years ago, the card on my bathroom sink with a $20 bill was there every Valentine’s morning.
It stung for a minute. The pangs of grief were all the way real this morning. And it wasn’t because I didn’t have a Valentine. It’s because I no longer have the man who reminded me every year that I was loved no matter what on this day. As I’ve grown up and grown older, I have become SO aware of what a Father’s love (or lack thereof) can do.
I had been thinking about today for the last week. Every “first” without my Dad has been an interesting thing. The days I thought would really be hard, sometimes aren’t. And sometimes there are days that sneak up on me out of nowhere. But I knew that walk from my bedroom to the bathroom was going to be hard. And maybe today is hard for you for very different reasons than me, but here’s some things I did to help me through the day:
- Made a Plan: I didn’t act like it wasn’t going to happen. I didn’t pretend it wasn’t a big deal. I allowed myself to think about it, cry about it, and process it, even a week before it happened. So much so, I asked for today off, a month ago.
- Spread the Love: I started asking God a week ago who I could share a little love with. He put people on my heart and I shared love with them the way my Dad taught me to. I left a little note and a small token of my affection letting them know I see them, I feel for them, and that I am believing with them on matters of the heart.
- Spend some time with God: I took some time to let my Heavenly Father speak to me and comfort me. It’s times like these that Psalm 3:3 becomes so real. I envision my Heavenly Father actually taking my face in His hands and lifting it towards Him, letting me know He is near and He sees the pain.
Today's Forecast: Another Valentine's day without the "one."
Silver Lining: Grateful for the "one" I'll always have in my heart, and the "One" who comforts my heart.
Sunday, November 4, 2018
The Heart of the Matter
Three months after losing my Dad unexpectedly to what, we believe, was a sudden heart attack, I found myself sitting in the waiting room of a cardiologist’s office praying to Jesus that the little palpitation I was feeling was nothing. After speaking to the doctor about my family history, and my current state of being, he decided to have me wear a heart monitor for two weeks. This little contraption was strapped on and keeping track of my every move…at least it felt like that’s what it was doing! Thankfully, they have come a long way in the world of heart monitors, so I could secure it under my top with nobody being the wiser. It made me feel like I was walking around with this little secret around my neck. As the days went on, I told some people about it just in case I started buzzing due to an electrode popping off. I also told some people because I was just plain scared. It was weird. I became very, very aware of my heart. Could everyone tell I was hiding something? Should I make sure to side hug people, or not hug people at all, so I wasn’t found out? But the biggest question of all…was my heart working properly?
The day of my doctor’s appointment, I almost punked out and didn’t go. All of a sudden, the thought, “What if something is wrong?” came flooding in. Which was followed by the just as helpful thought of, “I don’t have time to deal with a heart issue right now…there’s too much to do.” That thought made me wonder if it was time to get my head checked too! There’s NEVER a GOOD time to deal with a heart issue…but deal with it I must. Especially if the issue had any chance of killing me.
As timing would have it, this journey of my physical heart issues had come at the heels of a 2-year long journey of some spiritual heart issues. In January 2016, in a moment of great transition, I received a word that my season of working with my hands would turn into a season of God working on my heart. I was also told that God was trying to show me love, but I wasn’t receiving it. At the heart of the matter, I believe my heart had grown weary. Years of unmet expectations, feelings of being overlooked and abandonment had left me believing that no matter how much I worked, or tried, or cared…I wasn’t going to have what other people have.
So, in a sense, God put a heart monitor around my neck at that moment. I had become acutely aware of all my “ish.” I began a journey of letting go. Another season of being put out to pasture. Moved out far from everything and everyone I knew. Or at least, everyone I thought I knew. Obscurity. A season of not making a move unless it was a move that God told me to make. A season that He didn’t tell me to move much, which was way uncomfortable. A journey of learning to hear Him in new ways. A season of becoming acutely aware of my rhythm…a rhythm that was beginning to beat at the same pace as His. Connected to Him in a way that I had never been connected to Him before. Just like that heart monitor I had hanging around my neck…I went nowhere without Him and was aware of Him at all times. If my heart was off beat, I pressed into Him a lot like I pressed that little button any time I had a palpitation.
Well the good news is, nothing major was found at the end of two weeks. I can get back on track of doing what I need to do…drink less coke and eat more green stuff. I can’t say I’ve been 100% successful at that yet…but I believe I’ll arrive there at some point. As far as the work on my heart that God is doing…well, I’ve learned that journey will take a lifetime to complete. I’m grateful that I have the “heart monitor” AKA Holy Spirit “around my neck” at all times. He reminds me with a gentle nudge when my rhythm is off and teaches me how to love wider and deeper.
The day of my doctor’s appointment, I almost punked out and didn’t go. All of a sudden, the thought, “What if something is wrong?” came flooding in. Which was followed by the just as helpful thought of, “I don’t have time to deal with a heart issue right now…there’s too much to do.” That thought made me wonder if it was time to get my head checked too! There’s NEVER a GOOD time to deal with a heart issue…but deal with it I must. Especially if the issue had any chance of killing me.
As timing would have it, this journey of my physical heart issues had come at the heels of a 2-year long journey of some spiritual heart issues. In January 2016, in a moment of great transition, I received a word that my season of working with my hands would turn into a season of God working on my heart. I was also told that God was trying to show me love, but I wasn’t receiving it. At the heart of the matter, I believe my heart had grown weary. Years of unmet expectations, feelings of being overlooked and abandonment had left me believing that no matter how much I worked, or tried, or cared…I wasn’t going to have what other people have.
So, in a sense, God put a heart monitor around my neck at that moment. I had become acutely aware of all my “ish.” I began a journey of letting go. Another season of being put out to pasture. Moved out far from everything and everyone I knew. Or at least, everyone I thought I knew. Obscurity. A season of not making a move unless it was a move that God told me to make. A season that He didn’t tell me to move much, which was way uncomfortable. A journey of learning to hear Him in new ways. A season of becoming acutely aware of my rhythm…a rhythm that was beginning to beat at the same pace as His. Connected to Him in a way that I had never been connected to Him before. Just like that heart monitor I had hanging around my neck…I went nowhere without Him and was aware of Him at all times. If my heart was off beat, I pressed into Him a lot like I pressed that little button any time I had a palpitation.
Well the good news is, nothing major was found at the end of two weeks. I can get back on track of doing what I need to do…drink less coke and eat more green stuff. I can’t say I’ve been 100% successful at that yet…but I believe I’ll arrive there at some point. As far as the work on my heart that God is doing…well, I’ve learned that journey will take a lifetime to complete. I’m grateful that I have the “heart monitor” AKA Holy Spirit “around my neck” at all times. He reminds me with a gentle nudge when my rhythm is off and teaches me how to love wider and deeper.
Monday, August 13, 2018
Sinking Sand
A few weeks after my Dad passed away, I stumbled upon a story about a woman who had found herself stuck in quicksand near the Santa Barbara area. We’ve had some pretty wild weather in California. Massive downpours followed by blistering heat had created a perfect scenario for the unexpected to occur at the base of a dried out riverbed. She was just walking along and all of a sudden, she was stuck and the Earth began to swallow her up. She was rescued…but even those who came to help her began to sink before successfully pulling her to safety.
I’d pretty much had forgotten about the story as fast as I heard it, which has been kind of the norm since my world changed on June 19th. Two days after Father’s Day, I received a call at work that has changed my family and my life forever. However, there was no “wild weather.” We had just had a beautiful day enjoying the family on Sunday. It was the first time we were all in one place for such a long time. My Dad was happy and had just been told he could take a few months off from seeing his doctors. He was really close to completing a long standing business matter, and was starting to plan for what he and my Mom would do after it was settled. And then, just like that, it felt like the Earth below us began to turn to mush and swallow us up.
I hadn’t thought of the story of the woman in the quicksand until I was in the midst of needing to grab hold of the only One that could rescue me during a momentary ‘sinking fast’ feeling: the Holy Spirit. I was listening to one of my favorite worship leaders sing:
I won’t win this battle with the strength of my own hands
You’re the Mountain Mover, and only You can
I won’t build my life on sinking sand
You’re my hope forever, the Rock where I stand
The one thing that has become so clear to me during the last 2 months is my complete and total dependence on God. When people ask me, “How are you doing this?” My answer is clear, “It’s not me, it’s the Holy Spirit in me.” I’ve heard people say that before. Shoot, I’ve heard ME say it! But I have never in my life felt so comforted during a time of complete and utter turmoil. And the reason I have never felt so comforted…because I’ve never in my life experienced grief this raw. The loss of a parent is hard. But witnessing the loss of a spouse so up-close and personal…I will never in my life be able to understand it until, perhaps, I experience it myself. But oh, how it has made me love my God all the more…for His Word says all throughout it how important it is to care for the widow…it’s like He “gets” it.
Hearing the words to this worship song led me to Matthew 7:24-27 which then led me to a new obsession with quicksand …so of course I googled it. I thought it was interesting that some of the tips for getting out of literal quicksand can also help when you find yourself in life with that sinking feeling.
According to Wikihow, here are some ways to get out of quicksand:
This last thought is where I found myself again at Matthew 7:24-27:
24 Anyone who listens to my teaching and follows it is wise, like a person who builds a house on solid rock. 25 Though the rain comes in torrents and the floodwaters rise and the winds beat against that house, it won’t collapse because it is built on bedrock. 26 But anyone who hears my teaching and doesn’t obey it is foolish, like a person who builds a house on sand. 27 When the rains and floods come and the winds beat against that house, it will collapse with a mighty crash.
I can make the choice ahead of time to build my life on the solid rock foundation of Jesus. When the winds and the waves come, I won’t have to think about the fact that I’m getting swallowed up by the world. I don’t have to panic. I don’t have to take matters into my own hands. I can literally lay back and feel what I need to feel at the timing in which I need to feel it. I can know that I’m going to float above it and eventually feel the firm foundation again.
Today’s Forecast: A new journey with the potential of sinking sand.
Silver Lining: On Christ, the solid rock I stand.
I’d pretty much had forgotten about the story as fast as I heard it, which has been kind of the norm since my world changed on June 19th. Two days after Father’s Day, I received a call at work that has changed my family and my life forever. However, there was no “wild weather.” We had just had a beautiful day enjoying the family on Sunday. It was the first time we were all in one place for such a long time. My Dad was happy and had just been told he could take a few months off from seeing his doctors. He was really close to completing a long standing business matter, and was starting to plan for what he and my Mom would do after it was settled. And then, just like that, it felt like the Earth below us began to turn to mush and swallow us up.
I hadn’t thought of the story of the woman in the quicksand until I was in the midst of needing to grab hold of the only One that could rescue me during a momentary ‘sinking fast’ feeling: the Holy Spirit. I was listening to one of my favorite worship leaders sing:
I won’t win this battle with the strength of my own hands
You’re the Mountain Mover, and only You can
I won’t build my life on sinking sand
You’re my hope forever, the Rock where I stand
The one thing that has become so clear to me during the last 2 months is my complete and total dependence on God. When people ask me, “How are you doing this?” My answer is clear, “It’s not me, it’s the Holy Spirit in me.” I’ve heard people say that before. Shoot, I’ve heard ME say it! But I have never in my life felt so comforted during a time of complete and utter turmoil. And the reason I have never felt so comforted…because I’ve never in my life experienced grief this raw. The loss of a parent is hard. But witnessing the loss of a spouse so up-close and personal…I will never in my life be able to understand it until, perhaps, I experience it myself. But oh, how it has made me love my God all the more…for His Word says all throughout it how important it is to care for the widow…it’s like He “gets” it.
Hearing the words to this worship song led me to Matthew 7:24-27 which then led me to a new obsession with quicksand …so of course I googled it. I thought it was interesting that some of the tips for getting out of literal quicksand can also help when you find yourself in life with that sinking feeling.
According to Wikihow, here are some ways to get out of quicksand:
- Drop Everything. The more you carry, the more it weighs you down and the faster you sink and get stuck.
- Move horizontally. Try to move backwards. Taking a big step forward may get you stuck deeper.
- Lay back and create a bigger footprint by allowing yourself to float. Yes, do the exact thing that sounds absolutely crazy. Lay yourself back and allow your body to float above the very thing trying to suck you in.
- Take your time. Relax. Don’t make sudden moves. Don’t panic. Quicksand is not usually very deep. It’s the fast moves and the panic that makes people sometimes injure themselves. It’s very rare that someone dies from quicksand.
- Use a stick. This is how the rescuers got the woman out of the quicksand in Santa Barbara. It makes sense…it’s better to send a stick in than another, heavy human body. You don’t want to pull someone else in and get them stuck too. The stick is wedged under you as you lean back and almost serves as a buoy.
This last thought is where I found myself again at Matthew 7:24-27:
24 Anyone who listens to my teaching and follows it is wise, like a person who builds a house on solid rock. 25 Though the rain comes in torrents and the floodwaters rise and the winds beat against that house, it won’t collapse because it is built on bedrock. 26 But anyone who hears my teaching and doesn’t obey it is foolish, like a person who builds a house on sand. 27 When the rains and floods come and the winds beat against that house, it will collapse with a mighty crash.
I can make the choice ahead of time to build my life on the solid rock foundation of Jesus. When the winds and the waves come, I won’t have to think about the fact that I’m getting swallowed up by the world. I don’t have to panic. I don’t have to take matters into my own hands. I can literally lay back and feel what I need to feel at the timing in which I need to feel it. I can know that I’m going to float above it and eventually feel the firm foundation again.
Today’s Forecast: A new journey with the potential of sinking sand.
Silver Lining: On Christ, the solid rock I stand.
Sunday, July 29, 2018
When I Think About My Dad...
The eulogy I gave at my Dad's celebration of life.
When I think about my Dad, I think about how I always had a Valentine. Every year since I was born, he did something to remind me that I was loved, whether I had a Valentine or not.
When I think about my Dad, I think about our drives to Legg Lake when I was in grade school. He’d teach me to fish and I'd sit for hours reading my Big Book of Amazing Facts and watch the ducks on the lake. Sometimes it was just he and I – I can’t remember what we would talk about, but I remember loving to go.
When I think about my Dad, I think about summer nights at the race track. I think about the excitement of the winner’s circle and the long walk back to the car. I can remember running to catch up to him to grab his hand. I wonder if he knew I pretended to fall asleep by the time we got home so he’d have to carry me to bed?
When I think about my Dad, I think about all the business picnics we went to throughout his career. I think about how everyone he worked with enjoyed being around him. He seemed to be able to get even the most unlikely people involved in the fun. As an adult, I realized he was a “head honcho,” but you never would have guessed it back then. He never treated anyone differently because of his position. It was probably because he had held every position imaginable – he worked his way up and he did it without a 4-year degree or family connections. Many of his co-workers felt like family – I believe that’s what was special about how he managed people. He stayed in contact with some of them even after he retired. A win for them and their families was often shared with us. He was proud of them.
When I think about my Dad, I think about how he hired and empowered women. I remember hearing that he had a workforce of women under him, which was sort of out of the norm for his field and that time. I think about the 10+ years I was blessed to work alongside him. I learned a lot watching him then…I understood why he was successful. He never sugar coated things, even with me. He looked at problems as opportunities. He could have taught a master class in the art of motivating people. I don’t know anyone who could speak to people the way he did. They wanted to be around him. They wanted to be better because of him. They believed THEY could because HE believed they could.
When I think about my Dad, I think about holiday family dinners. I remember him driving to pick up my Great Uncle Tommy so he’d be included. And mind you, this drive wasn’t down the street. This was a good 1 hour trip into Los Angeles before and after everyone came over. As an adult, I realized what a sacrifice that was because he often had work the next day. But he’d do it because family was important, and the alternative was that Uncle Tommy would be alone. And he didn’t do it just for family. I remember going with him to drop off food for an elderly woman, a former work associate who’d become family, because she was alone during the holidays and couldn’t leave her house. I remember when he bought the bank teller’s kid a camera because they shared stories about their children when he’d go in. She was a single mother, and he knew she was in need. There were a lot of things he did when no one was looking…but he often did them without a second thought and was so genuinely happy he could.
When I think about my Dad, I think about the many people who have come forward to tell me how special he was to them. How their lives were changed because of him. He was a man of influence in the fun ways of getting us back stage at concert events, or VIP treatment at the casino. I mean, this man talked his way into a meeting with Norman Lear because he had an “idea” for a show! But he was also a man of influence because of the special things he did like: Remembering someone’s name. Remembering their story. Remembering the things people like. Treating people with respect. Always, always being kind and courteous to the front desk of any establishment and tipping our waiter or anyone who provided a service. And sticking up for people who couldn’t stick up for themselves.
When I think about my Dad, I think about how much he loved his wife, his kids, and his grandkids. He also loved our friends. He included them on trips and family get togethers. And if I had a friend who needed advice, he’d be the first to offer it. And the thing is, he didn’t learn how to be a dad from his dad. But he taught his sons how to love their wives and their kids. We got to see our parents married for 56 1/2 years and I’m so grateful that I’ve been able to actually witness “til death do us part.” I realize not everyone gets to have a dad like that on earth.
When I think about my Dad, I’m not going to lie…I have thought about the things he won’t get to experience with me now. Meeting my future husband. A walk down the aisle. Any other grandkids or great-grand kids. However, I recently remembered a quote my Dad would use during a few of the eulogies he had to give over his lifetime: It’s from Robert Fulgham’s “All I really need to know I learned in kindergarten” and it says:
I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge
That myth is more potent than history
That dreams are more powerful than facts
That hope always triumphs over experience
That laughter is the only cure for grief
And I believe that love is stronger than death.
My pastor recently said that our lives preach louder than any sermon ever could, and I think he’s right.
So when I think about my dad, I’ll choose to think about the things he taught me with how he lived his life:
to imagine more…believe more…dream more…hope more…laugh more and finally, but most importantly, to love more.
When I think about my Dad, I think about how I always had a Valentine. Every year since I was born, he did something to remind me that I was loved, whether I had a Valentine or not.
When I think about my Dad, I think about our drives to Legg Lake when I was in grade school. He’d teach me to fish and I'd sit for hours reading my Big Book of Amazing Facts and watch the ducks on the lake. Sometimes it was just he and I – I can’t remember what we would talk about, but I remember loving to go.
When I think about my Dad, I think about summer nights at the race track. I think about the excitement of the winner’s circle and the long walk back to the car. I can remember running to catch up to him to grab his hand. I wonder if he knew I pretended to fall asleep by the time we got home so he’d have to carry me to bed?
When I think about my Dad, I think about all the business picnics we went to throughout his career. I think about how everyone he worked with enjoyed being around him. He seemed to be able to get even the most unlikely people involved in the fun. As an adult, I realized he was a “head honcho,” but you never would have guessed it back then. He never treated anyone differently because of his position. It was probably because he had held every position imaginable – he worked his way up and he did it without a 4-year degree or family connections. Many of his co-workers felt like family – I believe that’s what was special about how he managed people. He stayed in contact with some of them even after he retired. A win for them and their families was often shared with us. He was proud of them.
When I think about my Dad, I think about how he hired and empowered women. I remember hearing that he had a workforce of women under him, which was sort of out of the norm for his field and that time. I think about the 10+ years I was blessed to work alongside him. I learned a lot watching him then…I understood why he was successful. He never sugar coated things, even with me. He looked at problems as opportunities. He could have taught a master class in the art of motivating people. I don’t know anyone who could speak to people the way he did. They wanted to be around him. They wanted to be better because of him. They believed THEY could because HE believed they could.
When I think about my Dad, I think about holiday family dinners. I remember him driving to pick up my Great Uncle Tommy so he’d be included. And mind you, this drive wasn’t down the street. This was a good 1 hour trip into Los Angeles before and after everyone came over. As an adult, I realized what a sacrifice that was because he often had work the next day. But he’d do it because family was important, and the alternative was that Uncle Tommy would be alone. And he didn’t do it just for family. I remember going with him to drop off food for an elderly woman, a former work associate who’d become family, because she was alone during the holidays and couldn’t leave her house. I remember when he bought the bank teller’s kid a camera because they shared stories about their children when he’d go in. She was a single mother, and he knew she was in need. There were a lot of things he did when no one was looking…but he often did them without a second thought and was so genuinely happy he could.
When I think about my Dad, I think about the many people who have come forward to tell me how special he was to them. How their lives were changed because of him. He was a man of influence in the fun ways of getting us back stage at concert events, or VIP treatment at the casino. I mean, this man talked his way into a meeting with Norman Lear because he had an “idea” for a show! But he was also a man of influence because of the special things he did like: Remembering someone’s name. Remembering their story. Remembering the things people like. Treating people with respect. Always, always being kind and courteous to the front desk of any establishment and tipping our waiter or anyone who provided a service. And sticking up for people who couldn’t stick up for themselves.
When I think about my Dad, I think about how much he loved his wife, his kids, and his grandkids. He also loved our friends. He included them on trips and family get togethers. And if I had a friend who needed advice, he’d be the first to offer it. And the thing is, he didn’t learn how to be a dad from his dad. But he taught his sons how to love their wives and their kids. We got to see our parents married for 56 1/2 years and I’m so grateful that I’ve been able to actually witness “til death do us part.” I realize not everyone gets to have a dad like that on earth.
When I think about my Dad, I’m not going to lie…I have thought about the things he won’t get to experience with me now. Meeting my future husband. A walk down the aisle. Any other grandkids or great-grand kids. However, I recently remembered a quote my Dad would use during a few of the eulogies he had to give over his lifetime: It’s from Robert Fulgham’s “All I really need to know I learned in kindergarten” and it says:
I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge
That myth is more potent than history
That dreams are more powerful than facts
That hope always triumphs over experience
That laughter is the only cure for grief
And I believe that love is stronger than death.
My pastor recently said that our lives preach louder than any sermon ever could, and I think he’s right.
So when I think about my dad, I’ll choose to think about the things he taught me with how he lived his life:
to imagine more…believe more…dream more…hope more…laugh more and finally, but most importantly, to love more.
Sunday, May 13, 2018
Moms and Band Aids
I decided not to do the bouquet of flowers for Mom this year. I figured I’d buy her some flowers that would last a bit longer and brighten up the backyard she looks out on as she washes the dishes at the kitchen sink. The first few months of 2018 have been rough on our family, and probably roughest on her.
Growing up, Mom has been the constant source of encouragement. Even when we royally screw up, she’s often finding a reason this-or-that happened. Or when I’m sure I’ve been hit with the plague, she’s calming me down from an emergency trip to Urgent Care or coaxing me off of Web MD. Yep, Mom has always been the band aid “put-er-on-er” and “boo boo kisser.”
However, so far this year, it has felt like one big ripping off of the band aid. No warning. One moment I'm on the road to ultimate healing from something and then the next moment…rip!! Exposed. Tender. And I’m sure the first layer of skin and some hair is in there too!
So what do you do when you’re a Mom and the expectation of healing has been deferred? You do what my Mom does: You cry a little. You get mad a little (or a lot, especially if someone has hurt your man or your child.) You may even ask God, "Why?" And then you brush yourself off and you make dinner. You do the laundry. And you tell your daughter she doesn’t have pneumonia because of a slight cough. You don’t have time to wallow or wait or wonder because there are people who are depending on you. There are people who are looking to you to say, “It’s going to be ok.”
Now don’t get me wrong. I’ve been through Celebrate Recovery, Grief Recovery, Freedom, and Spiritual Coaching…I am a HUGE advocate of it all and the biggest advocate of going to God with your "ish." Because if you are harboring resentment, unforgiveness or anger, you might as well tear off some band aids and pour salt on them. Angry, bitter Moms don’t usually have a positive effect on their children. And if you haven't dealt with your own wounds, it'll be really hard to relate to someone in their hurts.
I’m just recognizing that God needs me to walk through some stuff I don’t really want to walk through. And there are days I have worried and wallowed and wanted all the way out. There’s some band aids that need to be ripped off of myself and some people close to me…and my Father in Heaven is telling me, “I know this may hurt a little…but I promise it will be quick.” Now if there's one thing I've learned: God's "quick" and my "quick" are never the same. But He needs me to learn how to be a Mom from Him, and then be a Mom to others. To trust Him in this process of hurting and healing and then helping others to do the same.
In the throes of my early 40’s, single and no prospect of having a biological child of my own, God had given me a word that I’m just now really understanding: “You’ll be the mother to many.” I remember being moved to write about the realization that I was a mother. And in the last few years, I have had many opportunities to “kiss a boo boo” here and there for people I’ve come across or situations I've been put into. And if you ask me for a band aid and I don't have one in my purse...well, I forgive myself eventually but it takes a minute.
The thing that I recognize about Moms are that they have faith. Things can get ugly and hard and hurt. But Mom’s can be the ones in the family that keep you going even in the sight of situations that seem will never change or are getting worse. They can be the constant one. The one who's face is at rest during calmness and chaos (oh..He has SO much more work to do with me on this one! #NoPokerFace.) They are the ones who can keep you fed. Wrap your wounds. Listen to your uncertainty and speak truth over your situation. Don't have any kids of your own? No problem. You can be a "Mom" to that young girl at your job who just broke up with her boyfriend, or the older woman at the bus stop who just lost her husband and needs to be heard. All you need to do is listen for that person in your life looking for a band aid and let them know you hear they are hurting, you'll be there for them in there hurt, and that the hurt doesn't have to last forever.
So happy Mother’s Day to all the Mom’s doing it day-in and day-out. Looking over their kids by blood, by marriage or by choice. Whether you are the Mom of your house or your neighborhood or your job – your role of Mom is important. I’m continuing to ask and challenge myself to walk into situations like a Mom would, believing the best of her children, facing uncertainty by keeping the faith and encouraging others along the way.
Today’s Forecast: This may hurt a little…
Silver Lining: …but I promise it will be quick!
Growing up, Mom has been the constant source of encouragement. Even when we royally screw up, she’s often finding a reason this-or-that happened. Or when I’m sure I’ve been hit with the plague, she’s calming me down from an emergency trip to Urgent Care or coaxing me off of Web MD. Yep, Mom has always been the band aid “put-er-on-er” and “boo boo kisser.”
However, so far this year, it has felt like one big ripping off of the band aid. No warning. One moment I'm on the road to ultimate healing from something and then the next moment…rip!! Exposed. Tender. And I’m sure the first layer of skin and some hair is in there too!
So what do you do when you’re a Mom and the expectation of healing has been deferred? You do what my Mom does: You cry a little. You get mad a little (or a lot, especially if someone has hurt your man or your child.) You may even ask God, "Why?" And then you brush yourself off and you make dinner. You do the laundry. And you tell your daughter she doesn’t have pneumonia because of a slight cough. You don’t have time to wallow or wait or wonder because there are people who are depending on you. There are people who are looking to you to say, “It’s going to be ok.”
Now don’t get me wrong. I’ve been through Celebrate Recovery, Grief Recovery, Freedom, and Spiritual Coaching…I am a HUGE advocate of it all and the biggest advocate of going to God with your "ish." Because if you are harboring resentment, unforgiveness or anger, you might as well tear off some band aids and pour salt on them. Angry, bitter Moms don’t usually have a positive effect on their children. And if you haven't dealt with your own wounds, it'll be really hard to relate to someone in their hurts.
I’m just recognizing that God needs me to walk through some stuff I don’t really want to walk through. And there are days I have worried and wallowed and wanted all the way out. There’s some band aids that need to be ripped off of myself and some people close to me…and my Father in Heaven is telling me, “I know this may hurt a little…but I promise it will be quick.” Now if there's one thing I've learned: God's "quick" and my "quick" are never the same. But He needs me to learn how to be a Mom from Him, and then be a Mom to others. To trust Him in this process of hurting and healing and then helping others to do the same.
In the throes of my early 40’s, single and no prospect of having a biological child of my own, God had given me a word that I’m just now really understanding: “You’ll be the mother to many.” I remember being moved to write about the realization that I was a mother. And in the last few years, I have had many opportunities to “kiss a boo boo” here and there for people I’ve come across or situations I've been put into. And if you ask me for a band aid and I don't have one in my purse...well, I forgive myself eventually but it takes a minute.
The thing that I recognize about Moms are that they have faith. Things can get ugly and hard and hurt. But Mom’s can be the ones in the family that keep you going even in the sight of situations that seem will never change or are getting worse. They can be the constant one. The one who's face is at rest during calmness and chaos (oh..He has SO much more work to do with me on this one! #NoPokerFace.) They are the ones who can keep you fed. Wrap your wounds. Listen to your uncertainty and speak truth over your situation. Don't have any kids of your own? No problem. You can be a "Mom" to that young girl at your job who just broke up with her boyfriend, or the older woman at the bus stop who just lost her husband and needs to be heard. All you need to do is listen for that person in your life looking for a band aid and let them know you hear they are hurting, you'll be there for them in there hurt, and that the hurt doesn't have to last forever.
So happy Mother’s Day to all the Mom’s doing it day-in and day-out. Looking over their kids by blood, by marriage or by choice. Whether you are the Mom of your house or your neighborhood or your job – your role of Mom is important. I’m continuing to ask and challenge myself to walk into situations like a Mom would, believing the best of her children, facing uncertainty by keeping the faith and encouraging others along the way.
Today’s Forecast: This may hurt a little…
Silver Lining: …but I promise it will be quick!
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