I can live without anything or anyone, but I cannot live without God!

Saturday, December 31, 2011

The Gift of Tomorrow

We tend to believe that tomorrow will be just as good as today, or possible better if things aren't as wonderful as we would like them to be. Their are many who do fear bad will happen tomorrow, but most don't actually believe it.
As this year comes to an end, chances are we are thinking about tomorrow. A fresh start to accomplish what we regret not having done yesterday. All the things about our life we want to change. Humans don't like change. We all talk about it in a positive light, yet even good changes are hard to adjust to.Yet that is what life is all about. Nothing ever stays the same. Learn to embrace it. Learn to view it as growth. Learn to see it as a privilege.

 And that's the point, tomorrow is a privilege, today is a privilege, and yesterday was a privilege. Each is a gift. Treat them as the most precious possession you have.

What are you hoping will change tomorrow?

Friday, December 30, 2011

Gift of Today

Each moment, each breath, each feeling, is a gift. Experience it for it may be all you have.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

The Gift of Yesterday

We all have yesterdays.
Memories of moments in our lives.
Some good.
Some bad.

They can't be changed even if we would give anything to do so.
But we can change the way we view them.
Forgive yourself the bad and smile at the good.
The gift of yesterday is who you are.

Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Know No Santa

Two little girls giggling together as they descended the stairs into the basement.
Their mission there was to retrieve a canned good of some kind. Grandma had sent them, and the gladly complied.

But Grandma forgot one very important thing.

The basement had been chosen to hide the over sized Santa gift for one of the girls.
The moment she opened the fruit cellar door, she knew.
There is was - Barbie's Dream House, the only thing on her list to Santa.
Could it be a coincidence? Not likely.
She was the only little girl in the whole family that would want that gift.

No, it being there meant only one thing,

There really was no Santa

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

The Best Gift

What is your favorite gift you ever gave someone?

Had to the the drum set. So out of character for me to agree to that one, but deep down somewhere inside, I just knew it was right.

Bought some sound "deadeners" to make sure I would be able to put up with the noise. Strange thing-the "noise" never bothered me at all. Yeap, the drummer is talented. Natural ability. So not only was it the excitement he had from receiving what he really wanted that made it the best, it was the right fit.

My only regret is that now, four years later, that set really needs to be replaced. The symbols have BIG chunks out of them and there is no way to give the boy what he needs to keep developing his dream.

Monday, December 26, 2011

Three Things I Asked

The list was short. Just three things. Two required some cash, the other only a renewed trust and grace. All had been things I wanted for months. Nothing over the top. Actually they are very practical, even necessities. Yet none were fulfilled. Guess I don't really need a nice hot bath or clean clothes. The other, well that was the most hoped for. Alas, I will keep waiting.

Was there something you really wanted for Christmas that you didn't get?

Sunday, December 25, 2011

The Meaning of the Wonder

Restoring a broken relationship.
That is what  sending deity into the word through a tiny baby boy was all about.
The one and only way to restore humans to be in relationship with God.
Never can our minds understand all that this wonder entails, but with our hearts we can. 

Open your heart to the miracle of restored relationships.

Grandma's Tree

The Christmas tree at Grandma's house was so different then our little tree. It was tall and skinny and always had a star at the top. (Well, there was the times when the silver tree was the rage, and she went for it, but we must forgive our loved ones for little indiscretions!) It had short, really short, needles and lots of room in between the branches. And bubble lights! Oh how I was fascinated by those lights.

Grandma's house always had lots of food. Homemade cookies were my favorite. Not just at Christmas, but every time we visited, I made a beeline to the kitchen cookie jar. Yummy! 

Family and friends always filled that house. Laughter and games happened on a regular basis there. Everybody always wanted to go to Grandma's.

Well there was one exception. My mom. Somehow I don't think she really liked her mother-in-law all that much. Guess Grandma just had to much control on my dad. Right until the end of his days.  I can't be to hard on Mom. She tried to do the best with what she had to put up with. Don't we all?

Saturday, December 24, 2011

The Worst Gift

The smile still haunts me.

It's been twenty years, but the feelings are just as raw as they were at that moment.
What did I do? Oh the cry is heart wrenching! Sweet baby, I didn't mean to hurt you. I love you so much, I would never hurt you. But here you are in my arms, screaming, red from head to toe, and I have no idea how to stop it. I'm scared. Do you hate me now? Oh Lord stop the pain!

All I did was give her a bath. Simple little motherly act. Should have been a moment of loving fun.

The smile on that bottle still haunts me.

In my head I know it wasn't my fault. In my head, I blame the manufacturer for using some stupid chemical that my baby had a bad reaction to. But in my heart, still after all these years, I blame myself.

The bottle was a gift. Cute smiling head on the top of a bottle of baby wash. It mocks me, that smile.

Yes, it was the worst gift I ever received.

Friday, December 23, 2011

Silent Night Tradition

Hardly unique to thousands of church all around the globe is the tradition of singing Silent Night at Christmas Eve services, and the church I attend is among them. One little twist on it, is the tradition of outwardly showing your love the the people close to you. Giving them a hug and telling them how very much they mean to you.  The first year I attended this church was the most meaningful.  My whole family attended that service, and it had been a while since we had been so overtly affectionate. It brought tears to my eyes.  Tonight, (yes, I know, it isn't Christmas Eve, but it is the service that fit my schedule) I teared up once again. But this time for completely different reasons. Time marches on and things change. Not one of my children were there to give the traditional hug to. If it is so true that absence make the heart grow fonder, that might be the reason for my tears. But I really think it is because each of them is so special and I wanted the opportunity to tell them each on this night, in this special place and this special service.

Thursday, December 22, 2011

Jeremy Camp ♥†THERE WILL BE A DAY†♥ (((ChristianRock)))

All I Have Left to Give

Pretty paper and a bow
wrapped neatly around you so,
Glistening in the soft glow.
You seems so special as you wait,
not knowing how deeply hearts will break,
when at last your contents you yield.
The disappointment on the faces will be too much for you to bear.
All you are is an empty box, just filled with air.

But deep down on the bottom are the stains of all that was left to give.

Tear stains of love; never ending stream of regret.

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

The Christmas Tree Hunt

Before the days of the wonderful invention of artificial trees, there were tree lots on what seemed like every corner about this time of year. There were a couple that we usually revisited every year. Price was usually the driving factor on where to go. If we happened to stop at a different one, I could tell by the look on Mom's face they were too expensive.

We would all jump in the car with our warmest clothes on, which included a couple pairs of socks. Even then, our feet would freeze as we looked at a zillion trees. Couldn't be too tall. Couldn't be too fat. Had to have a straight trunk! Thankfully there were only four of us in the family. Can't imagine how much longer more peoples opinion would have made the process. But it seemed it was always Mom's approval that made the hurt end.

Then it would be tied down nice and tight on the roof of our Chevy and home we'd go.  Dad would cut off the bottom; a lot of the bottom. Made me wonder about why we picked that one over the shorter one? Oh well. Then into the stand and onto it's own little platform. Not sure about that either, but tradition is tradition, right?

Now comes the really "exciting" part: Dad and the lights! Now my father if he were here, would tell you he never said a swear word, but I am here, and I can tell you that's not true. This is one of the moments they slipped out. But eventually the job was done and on to the ornaments.

We each had our favorite that we HAD to be the one to hang on the tree. Still have mine, but I never put it on my tree now. It is really hideous! Strange how our taste change. There were the birds and the bells. The plain bulbs and the little houses. All of them smothered under a ton of tinsel!

Oh and on the top an angel? A star? No, just some very strange pointy thing. Another tradition not to be repeated!

What were some of your childhood Christmas/holiday traditions?
Pick 5 bloggers and say what you would give them if you could.

Instant Mommy - The forever family she deserves

Crumbs From A Full Plate - Successful, meaningful, life changing speaking career

Live...from Ninevah - Fulfillment in the time she has chosen to be at home

HomeSpunTruth - More time, so she can write her novel

Just Because - Everything she has ever dreamed of

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

What was the most important gift you ever received?
Sad that the world has taken it and used it so artificially. Made it into the machine that drives greed and envy. It wants all the glitter and gold, but not the sacrifice of it's own desire. If only they could see what lies on the other side. True riches; true happiness; true fulfillment.  

The most important gift I ever received is the promise of Jesus.

Monday, December 19, 2011

Which do you enjoy more: receiving or giving?

Totally-giving. Yet of course, it is nice to receive once in a while. But on Christmas morning, I enjoy the excitement of others opening their gifts. I like to make little mental notes when someone mentions they like something and  would really like to have. I give me joy to hear them say "You remembered!" or some such comment. It doesn't always work exactly as planned, but it usually takes the element of complete failure out of the picture. It hasn't seemed to wear off on others in my family. The times that I have received anything that I mght have hinted at wanting are few and very far between. But it's okay. 

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Game Nights

Every Friday night.....coffee, friends, fun, laughter and games.
The very best part of the week. Back then Trivial Pursuit was the rage.
We would play teams, boys against the girls. Just seemed more even, but not really.
Then there was Triominos, Upwords, and a few others.

When did it end?

Well kids came along and dampened things.
Moves happened and distance became a bit inconvenient.
And then the Lord decided to take one of us home.
Nothing would ever be quit the same again.

That's the game of life.

Do you have good friends that you have regular
special time set aside to enjoy each other?
What goes into a fun time together?

Cookie Exchange

Cookie exchange always sneaks up on me. The words "plan ahead" really don't exist in my world. Call it a personality flaw or just an undeveloped skill, it always trips me up. Helped my daughter-in-law make some for her exchange tomorrow, which reminded me, "December 19th-Cookie Exchange at work." Yeap, another year of not getting it done. But who needs more cookies in the house at this time of year anyhow. There are more important things to try and be prepare for. Who am I trying to kid?

So how about you? Do you partake in cookie exchanges? and what kind of cookie do you like to bake?

Saturday, December 17, 2011

Just Because

I'm not the leather furniture type. Never liked it in any way shape or form, or look! Not even the feel of it.  Well, I now have one piece in my living room. Thrift shop find. Granted it might not be real leather, but the point is, it's not upholstered with pretty fabric that holds dust and pet hair. Got my eye on another real leather couch at a different thrift store, but it is just a bit more expensive. Hoping to get the senior discount on Tuesday if it's not sold by then. So what does this have to do with gifts? Well it is two fold. Gift for the boy who likes to sit and play video games in a comfy chair, and a major step in the whole house overhaul for the girl who  has developed major allergies to this house and the cats since being gone for almost a year. Maybe it's too late, but I can hope....just because......

Friday, December 16, 2011

Handmade With Love

NaBloPoMo prompt for today: What was the last handmade gift you gave?

A prayer shawl. Inspired to make it for a friend who was hurting. I had some soft pretty yarn on hand, searched for a pattern that would be the right size for the amount of yarn I had, and went to work on it. Prayers were spoken for her as each stitch was made, because the premise of a prayer shawl is not just for the owner to pray with it, but for the maker to left up the receiver in prayer. It was given anonymously through the help of other friends, but I heard that she felt it was a true blessing at the time she most needed a touch of love.

What types of handmade items do you like to make and give as gifts?

Thursday, December 15, 2011

Remarkably Different

Yesterday I posted a video of a young man in real life pain. My intention was to write something completely different, but after I viewed his video, I couldn't even remember what I had wanted to write about. This morning upon first awakening, I kept thinking of  one word in his presentation: weirdo.

The dictionary's definition of this slang word is:

1. A person regarded as being very strange or eccentric.
2. A deranged, potentially dangerous person.
What in the world makes a little boy, only in second grade, start to be labeled as deranged or eccentric? Although I don't know him personally at all, it would be a guess that he merely didn't like to play the same way as the other kids. He didn't know how to express himself in the ways others were accustom to. Maybe he is on the autistic spectrum. There are an infinite number of reasons a little boy may be different, but that is my point.
We are all different. God made us all unique. It is Satan's ultimate goal to make that very unique quality that was put in us for God's purpose, to be viewed as a curse instead of a blessing. 
Here is what the dictionary's terms unique:
1. being the only one of a particular type; single; sole
2. without equal or like; unparalleled
3. Informal very remarkable or unusual
3. (with to) exclusive to, particular to, peculiar to, found only in, characteristic of
There is nothing weird about a young boy being different. 
It is weird how we treat others differences.
To be a healthy, whole human, living the life we where created to live, we need to embrace the difference we each hold and proudly go forth with dignity and give grace to those who don't understand.
Uniqueness and grace are both gifts from the One who created us.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Be a Friend/Save a Life

The is too much hidden pain in the lives of people who appear to be normal, well adjusted on the outside, yet are dying on the inside. December and the holiday season bring on more thoughts of suicide then any other time of the year. The most important gift anyone can have is a friend who cares. One who takes time to understand. Reach out to someone who you might have previously only given a "Hi, how are you?" in passing. A five minute conversation that shows you see them as a person with real feelings might actually save their life.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011


Warm and cuddly~safe and sound~ knowing you are with people who love you and they want you near them. That's what belonging feels like. Gift extraordinaire-belonging to  loving family, a church where you are part of a great circle of friends, or even a job where you are worth more than just the work you do. You are understood, respected for your uniqueness, appreciated for the richness different opinions and points of view bring. You never feel alone. You know that there is someone you can turn to for support, a kind word, a gentle touch. Someplace where you know your always welcome. That's the stuff that makes life worth living. For those without such a gift, the world is dark indeed. Give thanks if you belong somewhere.

Monday, December 12, 2011

The Gift I Lost

What gift do you regret losing?

First reaction to that was, "What I wrote yesterday!".
Then I started to clean my house.
Strange, I know.

Time to be home and take care of the house. It truly was a gift when I was able to stay home with the kids.  Might not have been the best at the mommy thing or the cleaning thing, but did a much better job at it when  that was my only responsibility. Be it due to financial obligations, motivational issues, tech world distractions or just getting older and having a lot less energy, they all have taken this old house to a place no one wants to be in. Including me!!

Yes, that is the gift I regret losing.

What do you regret losing?

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Broken Gift

What gift do you regret breaking?

Now how am I suppose to keep to my self proclaimed promise to stay upbeat and positive with a prompt like that? The best way would be to just ignore it and write something else, but it is stirring something deep inside, so here goes.

No, it's not a toy or a anything like that.
(Oh but there was the Barbie doll roadster that had it's front wheel broken.
Man that was a bummer!)
It wasn't any special piece of artwork or anything of a really delicate nature.
(Like the Grandma's crystal candy jar. Oh boy, was she upset!
It really was an accident!)

In fact, it isn't anything material at all, but just as fragile as a hand blown glass figurine.

It is the gift of friendship.

Specifically I'm thinking of a rather recent one that now lies on the "floor" in a shambles.
Yet this isn't the first one that I have single handily  broken with words or actions.

Social retard, should be stamped on my forehead. Maybe then people would just stay away and the pain of the broken relationships wouldn't scar my soul.

Even as I write this, a friend request popped up on my
Facebook page, and my heart jumped. Could it be?
Maybe there is a small mending of the scattered pieces.
But alas, it wasn't from the one  look for everyday.
Hoping. Praying. Mourning.

Saturday, December 10, 2011


There are only two times in my life that I can remember never having a cat in my home.
Both were caused by the same reason I am about to be without their soft, warm, loving presence again.
Just another of a seemingly endless list of things God is asking me to give up.
But I stand on His promise, and in the end all that is necessary is Jesus.
His grace is sufficient for me.

Six Important Links to the Meaning of Hope

Six Important Links to the Meaning of Hope

Friday, December 9, 2011

The Worth of a Gift

What does a gift cost you?
Does it reflect how you feel about your love for the one you are giving it to?
It might not be a monetary value or it could be extravagantly expensive
and hard on your budget.

But what is the value?

Is it of value to the receiver or just to your sense of worth and
good feelings about what you gave?

Is anything worth more than love, understanding and respect.

The secret is to be able to make the other person truly know deeply you care.

Sacrifice For the Ones You Love

This is a re-post, but it is appropriate for today. I will give up most is precious for the one who is most precious!

Is what a mother does.

Is giving up what you want so someone else can have what they want.

Is loving that person more than yourself.

Is giving away until there is nothing left....


             You are loved by others who sacrifice themselves to fill you up again.


              The circle of sacrificial love is complete and life goes on.

Thursday, December 8, 2011


What was your favorite thing you received below the age of 10?

Easy question to answer.
I remember the thrill and excitement of finding her under the tree.
She was a gift from Santa
I remember calling my best friend and playmate on the old black phone to tell her.
And lo and behold, she got one too!

You see, I am from the original Barbie generation. My sister and I, along with my friend, all had the original Barbies. We loved to play with them.
Hours and hours of imagination and playing.
But we didn't have her.
She was different. She was modern.
She was the bubble cut (hairstyle) Barbie!

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Add On to Yesterday

Yesterday  posted a video of Carrie Underwood's song "Change".  It was something I stumbled upon while listening to YouTube. It seems to fit the in with the NaBloPoMo theme of the month because even little gifts can change someone's world without our even knowing it. Big changes start with small steps.

This morning I was surfing blogs and ran across the following that I thought fit nicely into the whole idea of the song. If it moves you, please act of your impulse to make a small gift make a big impact.

Thanks to TheBloggess.com

Miracle # 1:  Right now there are more more homeless children living in shelters in the U.S. since the Great Depression.  There’s an organization called Project Night Night that donates over 25,000 free Night Night Packages to homeless kids each year.  Each package contains a new security blanket, a children’s book and a stuffed animal, all nestled in a new canvas tote bag.  The organization needs at least 750 bags right now.  They’re $20 each, and you can sponsor a Night Night Package for a child by clicking here.

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Carrie Underwood - Change (lyrics on screen)

The smallest thing can make all the difference!

Is It a Gift?

Discernment is a gift. But it sure can be a killjoy sometimes. For instance: A loved one is excited about finding just the right gift for you and tiny little words slip out in a conversation that makes you know what it is. So when the day of opening the present comes, the overwhelming sense of surprise and excitement has already taken place inside of you at the moment your figured it out. So the giver is disappointed with your reaction and thinks they have failed again, when really you do like the gift immensely, it's just that the surprise lost it's intensity.
Or at times when you just figure something out about the life of a person close to you, even when they have said nothing specific about what is going on directly to you. There is just some inner knowledge that let's you figure all the little details out. Sometimes it just brings pain to ourselves and those we love.

Monday, December 5, 2011

One Face

There was one fact that came though my checkout lane yesterday that I believe I will always remember as a shining moment in the mist of the rush of holiday shopping.

He was with his daughter and grand kids. His smile was as big as anyone's I've ever seen. But he wasn't talking. He gestured with delight, but couldn't talk. Turns out he has, as the kids called it, "old man's disease". However, they didn't say it in a mean way or condisending way, just an explaination.  The real name for it, as his daughter told me, is Alzheimer's. Yet here he was in my line, brightening my day. Grated, it wasn't my responsibility to look after him, and he might be a strain on his loved ones at times. Yet it certainly didn't seem like they were strained at that moment. Taking Grandpa out to the store where he was having a blast. And giving me a gift with his smile.

Sunday, December 4, 2011

Prompt Revisited

In a previous blog last month I attempted to answer the prompt about a life changing song.
What I wrote was a pretty lame piece that day. Not that it wasn't true, but there was no passion in it. Since then there is a song that I can say changed my life. Funny thing is I can't even tell you the name of it. I can tell you the way it happened.

I have a FB friend that likes to post on her wall what she is listening to on Spotify. On this particular day I decided to click on the link and listen. It was a show tune, that much I can tell you, because it was on some Broadway's greatest album. After it finished I'm enjoying some of at the other songs when one jumped out at me. It intrigued me so muc that I searched it on YouTube. Next to it pops up all the other songs from the musical RENT. I never heard of this one. But I liked the music, so I check the library to see if they might have a copy, thinking it might be something my daughter and I can watch together when she's home for Thanksgiving break. Turns out, she's seen it a couple of times. Well, I home all alone on that Saturday, so I watch it. When it was over, it was like the smoke from all the fires of my life parted and I saw crystal clearly the missing pieces for live change. My life change. But then again, not really change, just back to who I am, but lost somewhere along the rough roads of trying to please people. Seems I've refocused and that is true change.

So thanks Steph for sharing. And share one of the songs with you....

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Monica Mancini - Moment to Moment


My prompt today comes from an emailed newsletter from a friend. Her question was "How you doing right now?"  I loved what she had to say about the question and our being in God's hands each moment. It also made me think of the 1960's movies entitled Moment to Moment. I've previously written a short blog about that in an old post entitled Magic Moments. But today I've taken a slightly different perspective. Might be because I just got home from work and seeing at least a hundred people in the check out line. Each one of those interchanges were a moment of my time and theirs. It's my job to be friendly to each of them and for the most part it seemed to that they felt it and responded likewise. But there are some who just didn't want to go there. Too bad. Not for me, but for them. It ties into a tweet I got yesterday: "Learn how to enjoy where you are on the way to where you're going." (Joyce Meyer) It really is a choice. I haven't been real good at listening to this wisdom in the past, but one moment at a time, I am determined to rise above the feelings and put a genuine smile on my face and make "How you doing right now?" as delightful as I possibly can.

Friday, December 2, 2011

Joyful Joyful

Joy, Joyful, Joyfully,

My favorite hymn is Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee

It tends to only be played as a Christmas carol, so it is nice to hear it so often during this season of special joy. There are dozens of different versions recorded. This morning while writing this, I tuned into YouTube and started listening to some of them. There was the pipe organ that moved something deep inside, and the Chinese dancers joyfully spinning to the music. Full church choirs and orchestras in perfect tune. A rather different choir in Glasgow sounding more like a night club band. A version from the movie Sister Act and even one recorded by Pink! (What a voice)! There was the youth worship band putting there own twist on it. Classic to hardcore metal, the message is still the same. God alone is your joy morning to morning. I could truly listen to it every day of the year. Truth be known, once, only once, I sang a solo. Why is a whole different story. But it was one verse of this wonderful hymn. Even back in those teen years, only my love of Him could give me the courage to do that! Just a reminder for today, He is the strength that will get me through anything.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Tis the Season

Holiday season.
Joy filled days with the people we love.
Time to try and show them just how special they are to us.
Time to hunt down the perfect gift to make the brightest smiles on Christmas morning.
Time to decorate with bright lights and sparkling ornaments.
Bake some cookies and makes some memories.
Be it ever so humble, it is home and they are family.
Even though we are imperfect people, we are part of each other
because God gave us each other as lifetime gifts.
No returns allowed.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Last Day

Well it is the last day of the NaBloPoMo challenge for November. 
I can't remember the last challenge I gave myself and actually finished.
This must be a new beginning for me. I can use that in my life.
Now the question is, should I take it on again for another month? Humm....

The words I write are far from eloquent. They mean little to anyone but me.
I'm pretty sure that nobody has dropped in here to read them. 
It's been fun and something to look forward to with a certain kind of dread every day.
Guess I will have to see what the morning and the blog prompt bring before I can answer the
question of continuing or not.

By the way, if there is someone out there in blog land reading this,
kindly leave me a comment, good, bad, or indifferent. Thanks.

Have a great day!

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Let the Dog Out

NaBloPoMo prompt of the day: What is the last thing you do before bed?

How do you write a blog about that?
Maybe for you wordy people, it is no problem.
But for me, I am stuck on a four word answer.
Or maybe three different things that I do not necessarily in any order.
Then again, is it actually before I get into bed or after I am already there?

Let's go with the last one.

Nine times out of ten, I pick up a book and read for awhile.
Then turn off the light, plumb my pillows, pull up the covers
and talk to God about my day.
If my sweet husband has made it in the bedroom before I close my eyes,
I say goodnight and fall asleep..

Now if it is before getting in bed, well you know the usual:
LET THE DOG OUT! (Oh but that's not last. I have to let her back in.)

Monday, November 28, 2011


We live in a world full of self centered people who will do evil things to people. It is ugly and should definitely not be tolerated. Parenting has challenges but never, ever is there and excuse for such behavior.
But how out of skew are we to call everything abuse. Parents are afraid to discipline they children the biblical way because they might be accused of abuse. Teachers have no real form of discipline in their classroom because of trepidation they may be accused of some form of it.
My own father could probably been charged with it if he lived today. But I never, even today, thought of it as abuse. His temper flared at my sister's mouth. But it was what he knew. What he grew up with. It wasn't often. It wasn't intentionally trying to hurt her. It was correction.
Experts today are finding all forms of abuse from physical, emotional, verbal and who knows what other labels they are putting on it. I do not argue that there are legitimate cases of such abuse. However, when a loving parent is accused of abuse by their child it is a death blow to the relationship. It can never be the same.

Sunday, November 27, 2011


they are in my thoughts, penetrating my mind.
they are in my heart, drawing out my love.
they are memories, sweetly soothing my wounds.
they are faces of youth, faces of old, and faces in between.
they are gone from my eyes, but i still see them.
they are gone from my touch, but i still feel them.
they are part of me.

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Friends, Feelings, and Festivities

Nothing makes one feel more loved and accepted then when they are included in other people festivities. This is the time of year when people celebrate and want to share with those they deem important in their lives. Special ones who make their lives more enjoyable. To be included verifies that you are special to someone. And that just makes you know you have value.

Friday, November 25, 2011

Little Girls Should be Seen, Not Heard

Long ago voices. A child innocently venturing through adult problems without the benefit of understanding. She gets caught in a web of emotions. Her's and theirs. Learned behaviors.

Quiet was the rule of our house. Noisy little girls were not loved, or so it seemed. To be loved and accepted was to stay quiet.  "Daddy has a headache" (again). Leave him alone. Go off and play by yourself. Mommy had a hard day at work, she needs peace and quiet. Don't ask questions. Don't voice your opinions. Just shut up. Learn to stuff whatever you want to say.  Don't be a bothersome child.

So years later, after the pattern of how to "love" is well ingrained; there are children of my own. How do I show them love? There are no good patterns established, so I give them what I know.  Try not to bother them. Leave them alone. Give them their space. Not what they need. They think I don't care.
Never will they understand. Is there even hope of change?

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Balancing Act

Do you enjoy being alone or would you rather be around people?


Most of the time I prefer quietly being alone. It s not so much that I actually don't want people around, but I need quiet to accomplish anything. Distractions are killers. They  ave been known to hurt people because of my strong reactions to them. They have made me fail in school because I couldn't focus with them happening around me and get what needed to be done finished.

Then there is the social skills aspect to being with people. I haven't been blessed with the gift of gab. Words are not my friends. Misunderstanding always seems to be the result of anything I say face to face. So just avoiding that is part of liking to be alone.

But I like people. I enjoy being with them. Love to hear laughter and stories, and be part of peoples lives. I care deeply, and want to help where I can. But relationships are tricky and easily messed up. I have a knack for messing them up. Not sure if it is intentional or just bumbling ineptness.

The whole question comes down to balance, which ultimately is the answer for each of us. We need both, and to be healthy is to manage the correct proportion that is right for ourselves.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

One Song???

Pick one song that changed my life?
Another impossible blog prompt.
There are several that come to mind as making an impact, but life changing?


Okay, here it is.

Away In A Manger
It was song sang in our church at Christmas every year.
I have no idea how young I was when I first understood the words about a baby coming and laying in a manger in order to make things right. But at some point I got it.  Really got the message. His goodness. His love for me. How, I have no idea. I was really little. Understand what it all meant in my immature mind? Not possible, yet in my heart, I knew there that this baby was God.

"They who come as little children....."

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Who's in Control?

NaBloPoMo prompt of the day:
What is the luckiest thing that ever happened to you and why?

Definition of luck:
1. The chance happening of fortunate or adverse events; fortune
2. Good fortune or prosperity; success
3. One's personal fate or lot

Our prompt doesn't specify good luck or bad luck which clearly definitions #1 and #3 shows can be either.  My guess is that the prompter was looking for something that fits into #2.

I could write about a string of bad "luck" that has been happening in my life over the past few years, but in all honesty, I don't believe in luck. Everything happens for a reason. How we view it and what growth steps we take from it will make it good or bad.
So I'm pretty much backing down on the personal side of this prompt.

However, there is a situation in the life of a friend that makes me wonder about fate. The choices that change lives. It's not my story to tell, so the details will not be included here. But I ponder the lives of two little people who needed a permanent home. My friend's home was available for one. They were given the challenge of possibly bring both into their lives, but in the end decided to only accept one, not for lack of wanting two, but because they believed that it was the best for them.

Here is what I ponder, just as I'm sure my friend does in her heart, what kind of "luck" is it to be the one chosen to come into a loving family and the "fate" of the one who did not?
It would be enough to make one crazy if they thought they had that kind of control. But ultimately it is to a greater power into who's hand this was placed, and we trust in Him.

Monday, November 21, 2011

One of These Things is Not Like the Other

I recently started working for a company whose mantra for it's work force is:
"Fast, Fun, and Friendly".

There is a lot to be said for living up to those ideals in the retail environment,
but pondering them together it struck me that one does not fits in with the others.
Our society has come to expect it as a sign of excellence. Fast, faster, fastest.

How does that work with friendly?
It is friendly to say "Hi, how are you today", but not have enough time to even
process the answer before running off to the next "important appointment?
Doesn't a nice leisurely chat over a cup of coffee fit in with being friendly a tad more?

How does fast fit in with fun? Of course there are a few activities that may be fun and fast, but I seriously believe that true fun also takes an extended amount of time.
Being fast and moving on to the next thing just seems to devalue the present one.

Getting back to the retail business. How many decades ago was it that retail environment included going to the store for what you needed didn't meant not just material goods. It also included good conversation with the friends, whether it was the store owner, who's reputation and repeat business were built on his friendliness, or friends you met there. Maybe even a game of checkers. Time for friendly and fun.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Technology is such a wonderful thing. Making our life so much easier at the touch of a button or the click of a mouse.  As a writer, one can type a couple hundred words into a document and then decide that one word used repeatedly is just not right. Thanks to some genius mind somewhere we can find the replace function and in two seconds change it to just the right phrase.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could have a replace app for all the misspoken words of our lives? We all have wanted to eat our words at one point or another. Some of us more often then we care to admit.

There is one word that if I could change it would heal wounds, change self concept, and create the most imaginative mind I would have the pleasure of knowing.  To think of what damage one word has caused makes me hang my head in shame.

Change the word stupid to silly.

Hundreds of times, a sweet, innocent, searching, creative mind asked me "What if......." and I would respond with, "Another stupid what if question." Oh strike me dead on this spot! But in defense, it was the way I viewed the question. I thought I had to come up with an answer and I had none. I didn't see the wonderment of the imagination at work with words. My mind doesn't work that way. Maybe I was just to sick to see any silliness in the world.

Forgive me, sweet one, and go ask silly, but very intelligent questions.

Saturday, November 19, 2011


Deep in the basement of our own sole are boxes and boxes of experiences. Some are so well hidden and covered with dust that we cannot even see that they are there. Others are right there on top, without a bit of dust, but oh how they are tattered and worn. They are the ones we revisit over and over again. They may be wonderful memories that make us feel warm and happy inside. Others may be old hurts that we just cannot let go of or move beyond. They keep us stuck in the past. Dreaming only of what might have been instead of dreaming of what we can build. The rebuilding process might start by putting aside the familiar boxes and start exploring the hidden ones. In these we just might find treasures in ourselves that were meant to shine. The ones we were actually mean to be. What might stop us from examining them is the hurts that went with them. The reasons they ended up in boxes. Laughed at, put down, or just pronounced as impossible, we packed them away. Be courageous. Go beyond the voices and memories and have a look.

Friday, November 18, 2011

What has been the happiest moment of your life so far?

August  7, 1976

My wedding day.

Happy, glowing, content.
Never a doubt in my mind that this was the right thing.
I was marrying a funny guy, who made me laugh. Something I didn't do too much of before.
I was marrying into a family that loved to do things together, like picnics, vacations, and big family holiday dinners. Something my family never did!
I was marrying a guy who knew my past junk and forgave me for it.
A guy who shagged all my bad tennis balls and didn't complain.
Who joined a bowling team with my parents even though he really didn't bowl.
A guy who loved in a quiet way. And love me he did.

Yes, that was the happiest moment.

Thursday, November 17, 2011



The most colorful of them all hands down is Richard Michael.


Gay and very proud of it!

Loved the arts and gave me a deep appreciation for them as well.
Beautifully big brown eyes that looked at you with more emotion than anyone ever had.
We grew up together, loving and hating each other, sometimes both in the same breath.
Challenged my theology, but never my faith.

Always and forever.....

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

One Moment?

What is the moment you leave childhood and enter adulthood?

Can there be a decisive answer to this question? Can it possibly come down to one moment? It is almost like asking what was the precise day, hour, and minute you stopped growing any taller.

The child who was sexually abused, lost childhood. Yet that wasn't the step into adulthood.

The runaways who became responsible for themselves on the street entered adulthood, but still had not enough experience to say childhood was totally left behind. Yet this is where I will begin to answer the impossible question.

Responsibility for yourself. No one to fall back on. No safety net. No excuses. No decoys. Total acceptance of everything you do and each decision you make and the consequence is your own. That is when you become a true adult worthy of the title.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Never to be Repeated

My favorite place will never be repeated.
But I did have it four times in my life, and I thank God for each of them.

My favorite place is more experience.

It is warm and loving.
Giving and receiving.
Invigorating and lazy all at the same time.
Sweet smiles, sweet smells, sweet noises.
It is a huge responsibility with a lifetime of rewards.
It lasts for a year and yet is so brief.

My favorite place is in my rocking chair feeding my little ones and loving them.

Monday, November 14, 2011

A Pair of Roller Skates, A Tricycle and Blood

There was blood everywhere.

Her knees were bleeding. Her face was badly scratched , as well as her hands.
We were having a little fun. Her with her brand new skates and me on my tricycle.

I don't remember who's bright idea it was to hold on to the back and go down the big hill. From the scolding I got after, probably mine. And as you should have figured out, she let go.

From that moment on, I was deeply afraid of roller skates.
For the next decade, I refused to ever put them on my feet.

But love, okay, infatuation, took over.
The guy went roller skating every Sunday night at a nearby rink.
Conquer the fear, win the guy, right?  Not exactly.

But I did become fairly good. Even became a rink guard and learned a few of the dances.

Met a different guy there. But that was sort of a "bloody" mess in the end too.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Something New

New adventure.
New experience.
New job.
Cashiering on Black Friday.
What in the world was I thinking?
Stretch out of the comfort zone.
Smile and have fun.
Then write about it when it is all over.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Loving What You Do

When does loving what you do turn into a burden?

What pressures are put on us that we can no longer enjoy our talents? Are they outside forces or internal ones? When a writer falls behind on the number of pages set to write, does that end the joy of writing and make it become a chore? Not meeting the goals set can mess up the flow, but it shouldn't clog it so much that everything stops. Pressure needs to be used correctly. Plunging is pressure for a clog that sometimes takes more effort than we think we have. Maybe we don't have enough strength on our own. Then we need to ask for help.

Friday, November 11, 2011

3 Wishes

Wishes are for genies who are fictional.
Hope is for those who believe things can be different.
Prayer is for us who have the Truth.
so I pray instead of wish....

To give control back to God.

To never lose my trust.

To love with His eyes.


Thursday, November 10, 2011

What Makes Me Mad

NaBloPoMo prompt for the day asks what our passion is.

Humm....lets start with the definition of passion.
1.  A powerful emotion
2.  Boundless enthusiasm 
3.  An abandoned display of emotion
4.  The sufferings of Jesus; Martyrdom
Diffenately puts the thoughts I had at the first reading the prompt out the window. 
Things like, "I'm passionate about food" or "My passions is reading." 
Don't think that really fits the definitions. 
Emotions---So what makes me cry; what makes me angry; what brings me pure joy?
If we look at what makes us mad, it is probably a good place to start picking apart,  
looking for the true passion that is in us. After all, isn't that what made Jesus come? 
Was it not His anger over sin separating us from Him? We are His passion.
But the question is what is my passion. What makes me angry? 
My kids would probably say, "Everything makes her angry." But they only pay attention to me when I'm angry, so that's what they notice. I tend to be a quiet, reserved person, without too much to say most of the time. Yet when I do get mad, people know it. Everyone knows!
Reflecting on the question that I entitled this blog, I've come to a few conclusions, 
but will only focus on one. My own failure. That is what makes me mad. 
Failure to be what I need to be for those who need me; failure to meet the expectations of those counting on me: failure to be able to express myself so those I love know how much I love each of them. And all those make me cry. 
So the answer to my passion: loving people. Doing that well brings me pure joy.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Home Sweet (Other People's) Home

Today's NaBlogPoMo prompt:"When was the first time you realized your home was not like other people's home?"

Christmas 1957 maybe. I was little, maybe 3 or 4 years old. Family was invited to my uncle's new house. It was big and beautiful. Full of people! Even a small percentage of them wouldn't fit into our house. At least that is how I perceived it. My family never entertained. The grandparents would come over for birthdays and Christmas Eve, but that was the extent of it. Even that was only one set of grandparents,
the other was in Florida, so they never came.

So my little brain was not conscience of the actual difference, but I knew.
There was not a spread of food and drink like this in our home.
The decorations were never as bright and lavish as these were.
Their was no laughter like this gathering had.

Different, very different.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Boring or Blessed?

Today's NaBlogPoMo prompt: "Has anything traumatic ever happened to you?"

Quick answer, no.

That's a good thing, right?
Blessed to have so far escaped traumatic injuries, personal losses, failed relationships.
No bad car wrecks, major health issues, robberies, tornado damage....

But even though none of the BIG stuff has as yet touched my own life, I don't live in a bubble of thinking it can't. Some people close to me have had their life's so altered, and I wouldn't wish their experiences on anyone. Yet somehow, they have grown through them. Is it a blessing to not have moments of trauma? Or is it just boring without chances to grow and be challenged in faith, hope, and love.

Monday, November 7, 2011

Impossible Mission?

Today's NaBloPoMo prompt: How do you balance your children, relationships, and work life?

The all important trick to life. Is it truly possible for anyone to find the truly perfect balance?
There are seasons of life when it is a little easier to come close. When the kids were little and I had more control over their schedules, it seemed doable. But now, they have their own balancing act to try and control. For me to even attempt to mesh them all into one is Mission Impossible.
As far as work life and relationships....well that is easy when most of the people who are in your life are only the ones with whom you work. Thought through the list of people from my past that I might have called friends. About 85% of them were workplace relationships. Now long faded into mere memories of some good times. That is testimony to the fact that keeping the relationships in the balancing act usually fails. At least for me.

Sunday, November 6, 2011


Reading is almost an addiction for me. I love books. At this very moment I have
thirty-seven checked out from my local library! Granted, a bunch are reference books,
not intended for reading cover to cover, but still that is probably more than the average person checks out in a year!

Currently I am on a record pace for personal reading in one year. Might even make it to having read one per week. That count doesn't include the daily reads that don't make the finished book list, like my Bible, devotional, newspaper, and blogs.

With all that I read, you would think that I would have a good base for being able to write, yet that just isn't so. I've been mulling this disconnect over in my mind. Could it be that it is too much like a true addiction? Is it similar to drinking wine to just get buzzed instead of drinking a fine wine to savor and enjoy the experience. Do I just rush through the books and on to another without really incorporating what I read with my own thought process? If I truly owned what I read, wouldn't it be easy for my to then put thoughts on paper?

Or is it just that some people really are born with true talent to write and others are not?

Saturday, November 5, 2011


Words strung together to make a sentence. 
Sentences hooked together to make paragraphs. 
Paragraphs pasted together to make a page. 
Pages taped together to make chapters. 
Chapters stitched together to make books.

But I left out the beginning. 
A thought....it all starts with a thought. 
A gift from God to humans alone. 


They can, like everything else humans can do, are capable of good or evil.  

Friday, November 4, 2011

Paper or Keypad?

The prompt today over on the NaBloPoMo is:
When your writing, do you prefer to use paper or the computer?

Hands down--the computer.
I like getting the thought down and then searching for just the right word that really gets the meaning right (hopefully). There are so many words that can just tweak a sentence the right way, so I play with them. With paper it ends up being a scribbled mess. To be honest, sometimes I can't even read my own handwriting. Exception to the rule--personal letters or cards. But even those will have had a first draft before the final products it sent. Then give me beautiful stationary and a fountain pen.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

It's a Matter of Concentration

NaBloPoMo prompt of the day:Can you listen to music and write?

I can't do anything and listen to music at the same time.
I take that back. I can drive my car, wash dishes, process a huge stack of things needing to be added with an adding machine, mop a floor, fold the laundry.... You get the picture.
But those are mostly internal habits that need no sense of concentration. Yes, even adding a hundred numbers, because that is a skill that I mastered at a young age. But writing, putting words on paper and having them make sense...not my strength. Even reading words in a book or any other form of written material is almost impossible with music on. I might get away with some softer instrumental music, but if it has lyrics, the answer is definitely not.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Last Meal

If I knew that what I ate next would be my last meal, what would I want it to be?

It might be nice to have some exotic delicacy that I've never had before.
Some type of comfort food might be better, bringing with it memories of the past.
But really, what would be important wouldn't be the type of food.
Most important would be with whom this last meal was shared.
Ultimately,  I would want the food to please them.
Share in laughter, good conversation, and just enjoying each other
would be much better than pleasing my taste buds.

Of course, it would all have to be finished up with chocolate!

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Challenge Myself

For all you bloggers out there this will probably be pretty pathetic, but I decided to take the  NaBloPoMo challenge. It is doubly challenging because I have an old lap top that has keys that only work right sometimes. But here it goes....

What is my favorite part of writing?

The spoken word is not my friend. I tend to let out words that are not the most appropriate. They fly out with little thought and usually have a devastating effect. As a compensation, I have learned to just be quiet and withdraw to protect myself and others from the pain caused by verbal words from me or to me. So the real thoughts and feelings inside never see the light of day, or reach the heart of the ones I love.

Writing on the other hand gives time to think through the words. Find the right ones, the right combination of them that actually says what I want to say. Doesn't always mean that I'm understood, but at least it comes out a whole lot better than if I hadn't given time and careful consideration to what I really want to communicate. With writing there is a chance, however small, that the real me might actually have a voice.

Saturday, October 8, 2011

An Answer to Pain

"God has not constructed us to be fueled by 
accomplishments, possessions, or trophies. 

He has constructed us to be fueled by love. 

And love only comes from being deeply connected to others. 
It is the most important aspect of human functioning:
without bonding, we die.

Henry Cloud, 
"The Law of Happiness"

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

The Closet

Two little girls ran to the closet door. They slipped into it quietly. Ignoring the instructions not to hide from mommy and never  to play where she could not see them. Entering their own secret world. The closeness to each other in it made them feel safe. The world outside held scary things, scary people, hurts, rejections, and pain. Inside they shared each others secrets and dreams. They laughed, and played, and loved each other. Pretending nothing else existed but them.

Outside, mommy had realized that the girls were not where she had left them a moment ago. She had finally finished with all her boring adult chores that made her tired and drained, but she was ready for some fun with the girls. Oh how she had looked forward to this day! But where were they? Panic stared to form. What if's started to play in her mind. Her own past started to haunt her. Oh how she never wanted her girls to experience what she had. Protect them, at all costs. That had always been she goal. Little did she realize how badly that goal backfired. Always warily of danger made mommy never laugh. The girls saw her as angry and mean. Maybe she was, but at herself, rarely because of them.

Searching the house, she heard a faint noise. Stopping and listening, there was a muffled giggle coming from the bedroom. Entering the room, she heard the noise of shushing coming from the closet. How could this be! The girls knew that that was against the rules. Were they disobeying again?

Instantly mommy reacted!

Truly there was a choice to be made. Yesterday, it would have been to throw open the door and start barking about how hurt mommy was because the girls had disobeyed her. But today, well today was different.  Mommy turned around and went down to the kitchen. There she found the perfect things for a picnic. Special plates and china cups for tea. Things set apart for use only on special occasions for very special people.
Today, mommy was different. She now realized how the pressures of life and her own ghosts had blurred her vision of what and who were truly special.

She tiptoed to the closet door. She heard the girls chatting merrily. She smiled at their talk. Delighted in the delight they had for each other. Then she opened the door.

The girls froze. They had been caught. Terror crossed their faces. But then they looked at mommy, who hadn't said a word. She was smiling the biggest smile they had ever seen on her face. She looked so different! Almost beautiful. They squealed with delight as they realized that mommy had brought a snack for all of them. Then she entered the closet to play with them. The hugged mommy and she loved them back.

Today was different because mommy had learned to laugh.

Thursday, July 28, 2011


Secrets are poison to relationships.
Innocently started to keep from hurting someone's feelings,
they will have the same effect as gasoline vapors.
One little spark and everything blows up.

One secret.
Almost three decades of pain.
It stayed in the dark for almost five years.
When it came to light, it almost killed me and my unborn child.
But because of him, I held on. Made it "work".
But slipped into a fog. Pain numbing denile of emotions.
Self protection.
Keep it hidden.
No one else needs to know.
Protect the one you love from the shame.
So it became a different form of secret to keep.
Days, months, years, decades go by.
Buried deep.
Almost don't recognize it is even there.
Oh but it is.
Poisoning relationship.
Causing pain without explanation.
Innocent little ones hurt.
Twenty plus years go by.
Then the spark.
Mother/daughter struggle.
Quite normal under the best of curcumstances.
But under these conditions, the fire rages and nothing is left untouched.
Can beauty rise from this?

I hate secrets.
They ruin lives.
They kill love.
They make us hide.
They make us untrue to ourselves and the ones we love.

Eventually they are exposed.

Monday, April 18, 2011

A Good Choice -- Deniece Williams

As we look around, it is easy to find other parents 
who seem more skillful in their roles that we are.
Yet God, who see our lives from beginning to end, 
has chosen to unfold His love to our children uniquely through us. 
We bring all that we have to Jesus. 
He takes our offering and transforms it, 
like the bread and fish, 
into just what our little one needs. 
God hasn't overlooked a single thing in His plan for your child--especially you.

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Ephesians 6:1-3

Homework assignment for the week.  Read Ephesians Chapter 5 & 6.

"Again?", I thought.  "Didn't we just finish painstakingly going through that whole book in services at Elmbrook?  Am I really going to get more out of it?"  Now, of course that is a pretty silly thought for anyone who believes that the Word of God is alive and He speaks to us though it. "okay, I'll read it again, but please let the Spirit guide me!"

Then I got to the verses that I titled this blog. Wham!  Now for as many years as I've been a parent, I took it from that view point.  This time, however, I went back and thought about my sweet mother.  Now every parent wants the best for their child.  She was no exception.  She taught me all the moral things, the etiquette rules, work ethics, and how to drive. (had to throw that last one in. You would have to have known her to really understand!) 

"so that it may be well with you".  Don't we all want our lives to go well?  Why is it  when we are young, that everything they are trying to do is for our good.  God's word is verifying it!  Yes, I am saying that there are many things she was teaching, but I wasn't listening to.  Parts of my life didn't "go well" and how I wish I could change them.  Instead  we learn from our stubbornness years later.  Then we try really hard to do what our parent tried to do......keep our children from making the same mistakes, so they won't suffer the pain we did.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

I Stand at the Door

I stand at the door of your heart and knock.
ever so softly at first.
Just a slight tap, tap, tap.
You don't hear.
I try a little louder. Harder.
You still don't answer.
I need you to hear me, so I call out.
Still no answer.
I start pounding at the door.
Start yelling in hope you will hear.
Then the screams.
No response. You are in there. I see you.
Why won't you turn and look?
Why don't you hear me?
see my tears?
I'm am exhausted. No more strength for even the smallest tap.
Maybe you will hear the silence.

Saturday, April 9, 2011


Choices made.

Choices that ended badly.
Choices that brightened your life.
Choices in fashion.
Choices of environment.
Choices for dinner.
Choices in music.
Choices in people to spend time with.
Little choices.
Big choices.
All have an impact.
On you.
On others.
Make them with wisdom.
Make them in love.

Accept Yourself

Have you ever begged God to change you?
Over and over the cry of your heart seems to be
"God I'm so imperfect, please help me change!" 
Does it seem like God is ignoring you? 
News flash: He is!
He doesn't make junk.
He doesn't make mistakes.
And He made YOU just the way you are.
The secret isn't for you to be changed.
It is for you to accept yourself the way you are in
God's perfect will just who He meant you to be.
To try and separate yourself from your faults and mistakes is to is to be someone else.
The secret to living the life God has for you is to accept yourself to see that
everything about you is created by God for His good purpose.
Then you must love who you are. 
Only then can you rest in His perfect love.

Friday, April 8, 2011

Love Somebody Like You

As I saw listening to this song this morning, I got a fresh perspective on the words.

I want to love somebody (everybody!) like you (Jesus).  Let the sunshine (Son shine) down on you and me.

Listen to it in that vein.  

"Love Sombody Like You" by Keith Urban
It is my song of the day, and the rest of my life!

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Everybody's Find

Little know movie about a widower father who's kids are spread out all over the country. Kind of sad. I had to fight to hold back the tears.  Why am I mentioning it here?  It had a powerful message.  One that I find myself struggling with.  Parent vs child.  Not a battle in the true sense, but the wounds that result are just as painful and hard to recover from as if they came from a war wound.

As I watched I could relate as both parent and child. Something my stage of life has rewarded me with. But here is the point. We too often hurt the ones we love when we are trying to protect them from hurting!

Parents just want the best for their kids.  We wish for them to not have to suffer the same growing pains we had to go through.  Not really possible, but never the less, that is the goal.  The advise given, if they are normal, loving parents, is to help, never harm. 
We want to instill excellence.  Make them develop to their full potential.
But they end up viewing it as being about what they do as what makes the parent proud.  If they fall short of their potential, we may be disappointed for them, but not disappointed with them. The sad part is that kids just can't understand.
As a parent, I am proud of my kids for who they are, not what they do. 
I love them just because they are mine. Period.
No strings attached.
Always and forever.

Private Places

We all have them. Those thoughts that we hide from the general public of our lives. 
Memories, some good, some bad, some just vague shadows filled with feelings. 
Dreams of what we would like our future to be. What we want to accomplish, where we want to go, who we want to share it with.  How we want to impact the world.
All kinds of dreams, hopes, desires, maybe even fantasies.
Personal. Private. Even sacred.
It is humbling to share them,
but more humbling to be the one trusted enough allowed into those places belonging to someone else.
What an honor.
What a privilege.
What a responsibility.
It must be earned. With trust. With respect. With friendship.
But mostly with unconditional love.

Having someone to share the private places with makes life worth living.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Magic Moments

Life is made up moment by moment.  Favorite old movie of mine has that title.  Sad movie.  About loving someone you can't be with all the time, but the moments you can are special. Magic. 
Life gets in the way of seeing each moment as magic. Then the opportunity to have them is gone. Fight to make them magic while you can.  See the wonder of the person before you.  Really see them, know them, love them. And let them love you! True magic comes from Perfect Love.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Taken from "Mother Daughter Tango" blog

"LORD, help me to grow in compassion
for all I meet. 
May I never minimize a person's struggle,
especially when I have never experienced a similar trial. 
Please give me Your eyes
to see the heart of those who cross my path
and Your patience to minister grace and care."

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Works In Process

In today's fast pace world of technology things can be "created" in large quantities, in a relatively short amount of time.  They can be beautiful things, lovely to look at, but lacking value because they are not unique.

I have a display case that is full of such things.  Little statues that are collectiables only because the manufacture had set the quanity to be made at a set point, so only so many people could own them.  But they are not unique.

Yet sitting among those little figurines are some truly distinct treasures.  They really have no monitary value.  Hand painted plates that my grandmother painted over half a century ago.  Brush strokes that are her's alone and cannot be duplicated (believe me, I've tried!) Colors and shading all coming together in the way she invisioned them.  It wasn't a quick slap it on and be done with it.  I sat many hours watching her, trying to learn her craft.  If it wasn't right, she would take a rag and wipe out that part and redo it, and redo it, until it was right.  Then it would go into the kiln to be fired. That was the first step.  All the truly lovely pieces of this art form take at least three, possible more, of the apply the paint, wipe out mistakes, and put through the fire, steps to a finished plate.

I start to reflect this process in regard to  Philippians 1:6  "And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ," with the lives we live.  Each and every day is a our opportunity to make the brush stokes in the masterpiece that God invisioned us to be.  In some mysterious way, we do the painting, but God will pick up the rag and wipe out the mistakes, and have us redo, and redo, and redo, then back into the fire again and again until we come closer and closer to that which He sees us to be, reflections of  love made perfect in His precious son, Jesus, the only unique one with the most precious value, and we his prize possessions.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Hurting People

Nothing new here.

Everyone knows that hurting people hurt others.
Hurt given. Hurt received.
Vicious circle.  
Fumbled tries.  
Try harder. 
More of the same.
Deeper hurt. Farther apart. Longing for change.
Afraid to try again.
Afraid that one more time will be too much.
Can one actually die from hurt feelings? Can one bleed from imaginary wounds?

Precious blood. Given in love. Try again.

Thursday, February 17, 2011


Overtaken by emotions.  Overtaken by pain.  Overtaken by....


The loss of a child.  
That can  be in different ilks. 
Each has its own distress.
Each has it's own depth of pain.

There is the loss through miscarriage.
Pain of the unknown face that you would have kissed so sweetly. 
Imagined times of love and laughter never experienced.
Regret. Guilt. Questions.

There is the loss through death. 
Pain of memories of  that sweet face never being kissed again. 
Countless moments remembered of love and laughter. 
Anger. Hurt. Questions.

There is the loss through rebellion.
Frightening moments.
Fear and guild.
Hurt, regret, and even more questions.

Then there is the loss through growth. 
The most natural.
The one anticipated.
Yet still there is pain.  Though this one has few questions. 
Just sweet memories and the dull ache of wishing it could have lasted just a bit longer.

Overtaken by the memories.
And the tear flow.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011


Is what a mother does.

Is giving up what you want so someone else can have what they want.

Is loving that person more than yourself.

Is giving away until there is nothing left....


             You are loved by others who sacrifice themselves to fill you up again.


              The circle of sacrificial love is complete and life goes on.