standing in

Sometimes I feel like an impostor in my own life. Me... but not. The outside might appear to be the girl bearing my heart... but on the inside, the heart of me feels covered in sticky goo. A pretender in my very own self. The truth of it is... this Advent season is not going the way I planned. The way I wanted it to. And certainly not the way that Jesus deserves it to go. Here I am... the whole mess of me, sitting in the cobwebs left over from Halloween (that truthfully, I have been saving since... March?) I stood in church this morning just begging for that beautiful pink candle to light up my heart and overcome me... but I think the molasses from last week's gingerbread has pretty well coated me over. Funny... a Mom knows best, right? Just the other night my Mom told me she was worried that I was doing to much. No! I am doing fine! Only the things I want to do and I am ahead of the game! Shopping all but done! cards done!
Funny...
how a Mom knows.
Last year it all hit me on the second Sunday of Advent. So I made it to week three this year... but for the life of me, I can't figure out if that is good or bad. I suppose it just is. Regardless, here I am, the great celebrator of Advent... and I'm not.
Remember that PowerPoint I am doing for our Sunday School program? Somehow it just dawned on me that it is "due" Saturday. Yes. This Saturday. So guess what I was doing at 5:09 this morning? Yep. Learning how to make a PowerPoint. And Wednesday night? We have the Band Boosters coming for a budget meeting... and dinner. At least it is motivation to vacuum up the pine needles and Easter Dust bunnies. This weekend still has some life to it, and I am already wondering how I will even make it to the next.
Smiling bright. Every hair in place. Saying all the right things. An impostor. Like a shepherd standing in for a lost wise man... hoping that nobody will notice that he is without a crown. Hoping that the love in his overloaded heart will start to light up and blind them towards his flaws. Hoping... anyway.
Breathe.
In.
Out.
Confession is good for the soul. Spitting it all out somehow makes way for the good stuff... like Jesus coming in with a warm soapy cloth and washing my heart of its stickiness... and giving me the patience to figure out Power Point. It leaves my heart a little lighter... and perhaps I will actually be able to enjoy those photos, instead of being overwhelmed by them. Because in them... I can see the story. And where I want to be. Curled up next to the sheep... gazing at the Shepherd.

staying ahead of the storm

The sky looks ominous this morning. That hazy yellowish hue is hovering with a heaviness to it. It makes me think that the sky might fall... in those big sloshing silver-dollar sized raindrops. I grabbed my umbrella... just in case. But the way the wind is blowing, opening it might just carry me off to Oz. Looking in the rear view mirror, I can see the storm in the distance... chasing me. And I press on just a little more. Trying to stay ahead of the storm.
How often do I play that game? Pushing myself just a little bit more...to stay ahead. Of the stretched ends that might not be meeting. Or the argument that is simmering on the back burner. Or even those hurt feelings that have covered my heart... tucked away out of sight behind the storm shutters.
But I have learned... that the storm comes. It comes fiercely, and often leaves a mess that cannot be swept up under the carpet of our life.
Still... I press on. Grabbing tight to the One who steers me...eventually emerging into the Son.

readying my heart

It is no secret that I love Advent. I really love Advent. It helps me to let Christmas sink into my soul and to really celebrate the season, instead of rushing on through... checking off a million items on that dreaded to-do list... somehow missing what Christmas is all about in a flurry of check marks.
Last weekend our Sunday School took a field trip to a little farm... to play with the animals, to prepare for our Christmas program, to pose for pictures. My job was to take those pictures... and I took tons of them. I was kneeling in the dirt, I was standing on an unsteady rough stool, I was in the midst of the shepherds and animals at the manger. Taking picture after picture. I was hoping to get some great shots... really great ones. The sun was shining and the air was beautiful... and the whole morning exhausted me!
Later... going through the pictures, the reality of where I was struck me... and the tears started. In the moment, I was running and doing my job, but never once did I stop and revel in where I was. At the manger. In the midst of the shepherds and the animals. Sitting in the straw marvelling at the arrival of a newborn king. In the company of angels.
To look at the pictures... you would not guess that I was not in the moment. I think I am quite accomplished at that... putting on a good face and stumbling through, with no one the wiser. But it is not how I really want to live. I want to be present in the midst of it all. I don't want to miss a thing... and most certainly not the arrival of the King.
Today we light the first candle of Advent... and I am planning to sit down as a family and read a bit. And share our love for Christmas. The reason for Christmas. Of course, the best laid plans don't always fall into place... but if I don't plan for it I know that there is no chance of this time being set aside. So I plan... and I pray... and I sit my heart down in the straw and wait... for the best gift Christmas brings.

in preparation

As the hustle and bustle of Christmas sneaks in, I realize I should be taking advantage of this time to rest... but Advent is beginning and I want to be ready.
With my wreath.
With my candles.
With my heart.
So I have my Christmas songs playing, and my fireplace(the dvd variety!)burning. And as I haul in a few decorations from the garage, it is starting to feel festive. My nativity has made its way from the curio cabinet, where it sits all year, to its place of honor on the piano... and my book shelves are now heavy with the stories of Christmas.
At least one room looks pretty. The rest of it looks like the seasons threw up. Fall leaves and jack-o-lantern pumpkin pillows mixed in with snowmen and gingerbread men... it will all get sorted and put away... in good time. Right now? No... I am playing nurse. To the boy who got his big toe stabbed with a needle. All the way through. In one side and out the other.
But amidst the piles of festivities, I sit ready. To enjoy it all. To make the most out of December... and the joy that hides behind that hustle and bustle.

happy thanksgiving

The congo squares are in the oven... and the parade will start in just over an hour. While those things speak Thanksgiving to my heart... there is more.
There is always more... and that is something to be thankful for in itself. God gives and gives... and all I have to do is receive. Sometimes it just stops me in my tracks. I deserve none of this... and yet, here I am in the midst of a beautiful life. My cup of blessings is overflowing... and I wonder why me?
Wishing you a Happy Thanksgiving, with your cup overflowing with the things that really matter...

speechless and running

The sun was dawning on this brand new day as I traced my usual path... but, in glancing up, there was nothing ordinary about the sky. Beautiful pinks and golds merged the clouds together with the sky above me... and I wish I had toted my camera on my morning walk. With my eye to the sky, I drove my daughter to school... and watched further beauty unfold... each moment seemingly more beautiful than the last. Returning... I promised myself that I would not pass up this day... this moment. Putting the car in park, I ran inside to grab my camera... and captured the beauty... or at least all the beauty that a lens will allow. And I stood... just soaking it all in... and marvelled at the heavens.
Next time a sunrise steals your breath or a meadow of flowers leaves you speechless, remain that way. Say nothing, and listen as heaven whispers, "Did you like it? I did it just for you."
-Max Lucado

sitting in the quiet

When I woke, it was late... and the house was still quiet. It had been a long day... reaching far into the night, and if I had slept until eight, the others would be sleeping longer still. But the aloneness... it was good. The sunlight streamed through the slider and beckoned me outside. The coolness in the air surprised me, and I gathered my coffee and my book and sat... just me, in the air, and still in my pajamas. The book was propped open, and the words lay ready, but my mind sought something else. There were a million thoughts I could think to think. How to make the day better for next year. That I was happy with how hard my kids had worked. How I loved having my family lend their hands to our cause. My mind pushed the busyness away, and words began to work themselves into prayer, but the rustle through the trees shushed me. And so I listened. To the quiet. And I felt Him about me... pushing the me parts away and sharing the He parts that I needed. There I sat... legs folded beneath me... hands folded in my lap... eyes closed, with my face to the sun... and enjoyed the silence. And I breathed Him in... and all that He had to offer on this quiet, still morning that seemed created just for me.

He gives every day... and all we have to do is receive. But oftentimes... life blurs the reception and we keep running. It was gift enough... to sleep long past six. But the keeping me from my own craziness... it was another heaping of His love... and one I couldn't refuse. Tuesdays are for celebrating the little things... the overlooked moments... the simple and the necessary. Unwrap a Tuesday... come along to Chatting at the Sky.

hear my prayer

The memory has been sitting on my heart… heavily, I suppose. It was a beautiful moment, and it keeps calling me to prayer… day after day… hour upon hour.

She courageously left her hat back at her seat as she slowly made her way up for communion. Her family surrounded her… but her eight year old daughter especially caught my eye as she hopped on one shiny, patent leather shoe. She held her other foot just lightly off the ground, as to not dirty her white lace cuffed sock, and she leaned… just a bit towards her mother for balance. And with a sense of love so desperate that I could feel it, Kathy laid her hand upon her daughter’s cheek. Those slender fingers, once strong but now frail, spoke a lifetime to my heart. And in that instant, my own heart cried out for healing louder than it ever had before. They stood as a family... receiving the body and blood of Jesus... and the ache in my heart worked itself in a little deeper.

That day… plays vividly through my mind… and my knowledge of her courage and joy for each precious day attempt to cover my tears. In one selfish moment my heart cries out that I could not bear to lose another friend... and in the next... I am ashamed that I could even put myself into the equation. And with grace... God brings to me the real reason I pray for healing. The husband who adores her. The children who rely on her love for comfort, strength, example, and... balance. Her family... who can not bear the thought of her not being by their side in this lifetime. I don’t know if my prayers will be answered in the way I hope for… but I know that He hears me. And I know… that each and every day is a gift.

honestly...

Once and a while I stop to look at my life... and realize that I am not the person that I dreamed I would be. Like most other young women, I dreamed I would be that perfect Mom. The Mom who changes décor with the seasons. The Mom who never yells. The Mom who teaches her kids how to cook, then lets them have free reign in the kitchen. The Mom who has all of the kids over to her house. The Mom that keeps everything nice and tidy... and puts on a fabulous spread at dinner time. Are there Moms out there like this? Yes... I suppose there are.

Often... I wonder how people look at me and think I am this woman. Sure, it is a compliment that someone might think I have it all together... but is it reality? Not for me. Sure... I can pull off some extraordinary things. The best red velvet cupcakes you ever ate. A Mexican feast fit for a rowdy group of friends. Beautifully decorated cakes. Creative Halloween costumes. There are people who refer to me as “Martha Stewart.” A compliment? I suppose. But reality? Nope. Because anything extraordinary takes a great deal of effort to pull off... and I seriously do not have the motivation or the stamina to keep it up on a daily basis.

I am the Mom who has a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. I am the Mom who doesn’t keep her dust bunnies in the corner, but lets them race across the floor. I am the Mom who can’t seem to finish a Bible study that I really wanted to complete… and the Mom who hardly ever just sits with God. I am certainly thankful that He is gracious enough to put up with this... and He lets me talk to Him all day long. Lately I think... I am the Mom who needs a really good cry.

I am who I am. The girl God designed me to be… and while I am accepting her here and now, I am hoping that He isn’t quite finished with me yet. So... I am not the person I dreamed I would be… and I’m okay with that. God has a better plan that I could ever dream anyway. And He is at work in me… everyday. He makes me real. Honestly… who could ask for more?

Still wonerin' why I'm here. Still wrestling with my fear
But oh... He's up to something,
And the farther out I go, I've seen enough to know that I'm not here for nothin'
He's up to somethin'

There is hope, for me yet, because God won't forget, all the plans he's made for me
I have to wait and see, he's not finished with me yet, he's not finished with me yet
-Lyrics from Brandon Heath's Wait and See


Thanks, Kat...
for this award. That I inspire you is a gift... to my heart.

tears on sunday

We have our fair share of scuffles… but usually nothing that the Crooked-Mom-Eye look won’t stop. And it is fairly rare that one of our children just downright disobeys. But it happens. Or… it happened. This weekend. Somehow… I was able to keep my cool.
Over the years I have learned that it is most effective to let them stew and wonder what I’m thinking… but really, my heart was broken. Not necessarily about what was done… but about the lie that followed. I suppose that over the years I have also learned that a flash of anger is easier to set aside than lingering disappointment. So I sat in the living room and waited it out. I sat, with my broken heart… while he was in his room doing who knows what. And then I sat some more… until I couldn’t stand it for another minute.
He was tucked under his blanket in his bed, reading. Sitting myself down on the side of his bed, I sighed. He curled around and sat looking at me… with red-rimmed eyes that looked ready to spill. I’m sorry. Can you forgive me? And in that moment I was thankful for the misstep. Thankful… for the chance to remind him that I will always forgive him. Thankful... for the love that God placed in my heart and the certainty in knowing that there isn’t a thing in this world that either of my children could do that would stop me from loving them. Thankful… that my son, closer now to thirteen than twelve, could throw himself into my arms and hang on...letting relief wash over him.
I am hopeful... that it will be a long while before we sit in disappointment again and that the lesson has been learned. But God does have a way of working good into the bad, and since I am trying to see the brighter side, I will say that I surely love seeing His work.

let there be light

It happens gradually... so much so that you hardly notice... until one day, you are standing in the dark. I let it last about four days... this standing in the dark... before I actually even began to seek light. But it was time... and after about five minutes of very simple labor, I was thrilled to flip the switch and let the light of those four bulbs do their job. My kitchen was once again filled with light!

I suppose I could make a list of excuses for not tackling this very simple, less than five minute job... the trouble of getting out the step ladder, actually having to walk all the way to the laundry room to find the light bulbs, wanting to wait to change them until it was really worth my while... or just waiting for someone else to do it for me. But I finally just gave in and pushed all of the reasons to the side... because I was tired of working in the dark. Of course... the darkness hides a lot. Once my room was awash with light, the crumbs, the dust... the ketchup splashed on the cabinets all showed their ugly faces. I knew they were there all along... but it was easy to ignore them when the light was dim. Holding things up in the light? It means no excuses. It means showing everything... good, or bad. It means showing... me.

I think I've been sitting in the dark for a while. Hiding from the world. Sitting still... and not reaching out. Letting my life mark time, instead of marching boldly ahead. Light has a funny way of showing off the good the bad and the ugly... but I am reminded that when I stand in the light of Jesus, the bad and the ugly are pushed to the shadows and then swept up under that glorious carpet of forgiveness. Easier than changing a light bulb or flipping a switch...

can i ask a favor?

It has been quite a week... words are swirling through my head and my heart... and can't seem to find their way out. But can I ask you to pray?
For Kathy, who is doing her best to recover.
For Joyce, who is beginning on a journey I wouldn't wish on anyone.
For Deb, who is on that same journey... for the second time.
For Chris, who is grieving a loss so close to his heart.
For a young man... waiting for test results.
For Suz' Grandma... and Suz herself.
For all of the families and friends who love these people...
Thank you. From the bottom of my heart.

just what i needed

Uncomfortably shifting in my seat, in more than a bit of pain... I decided to take a quick check on my e-mail. And there was a note from beautiful Kat. Telling me to go and check out (in)courage... because I had won their t-shirt. And the tears came... in sobs. Because He knows. He knows just what we need. What I need. And tonight... I need some courage. Tomorrow I am going for an exploratory procedure on my bladder. Yeah. It isn't really what I had planned for my day off. But I am going... and I am scared. There is something wrong, I know. And I want to know what the next step is... but gosh... I am scared. Of the pain. Of the problem. Just scared. I keep calling His name... and I know He is here... just waiting for me to set my fear in His mighty hands. So here I go... setting it down. With courage. And a good bit of denial. But I know... tomorrow when my husband kisses me as I am sent on my way... that God will travel the rest of the way with me. And He will hold me... and my fear... and wipe my tears away.

love and life

On this day, seventeen years ago... I awoke with anticipation of a fairy tale day, and no less than a thousand dreams in my heart. Dreams of all of the tomorrows in my life, and what they might bring... growing old with my sweetheart. I was a girl headed towards her wedding day with beautifully tinted rose-colored glasses perched on her nose... seeing the bountiful celebrations that life would surely unfold. But what I didn't see was all of the life that would happen between the celebrations...

The swollen ankles and high blood pressure that my pregnancies would bring... and the way he would seemingly hold our life together doing dishes, serving dinner and washing clothes on top of his work hours when the doctor ordered bed rest. (Seems he may have set a pace for himself as he has continued lending his loving hands to those tasks still today.)

The moments of great sorrow... eyes, loss, health. The moments that would cause pain to our hearts and bring us to our knees. In prayer. Together.

The afternoons when the stress of life would wrapped itself around my heart and an easy breath would be a luxury... and the arms that could somehow ease the anxieties just by pulling me in and holding me close to his beating heart.

Nights when his methods would made me chuckle, as he, with the kids, would be sprawled across the couch watching another episode of Cops, learning what getting into trouble really was. (But perhaps there is no more vivid way to share the real consequences of bad behavior than to share the examples in living color.)

The screeches of laughter that would bounce off the walls that we would call home... as yet another penguin or kitty cat was taken hostage at bedtime. And the way the serene images of what bedtime should be would turn into mayhem.

If that girl had removed her rose-colored glasses, racing across North Scituate as the sun was dawning on her big day... she might have thought about the homework... the dirty socks on the floor... the heavy hearts... the tears... the crumbs scattered across the counter... the bright faces that would someday wiggle in the pew. But she would have raced just the same. Towards life... and all that it might bring. Because the lessons life has to offer... and the beautiful mess that life can be, and is on a daily basis... those were treasures for another day. Treasures to unearth with your Love by your side, as year after year the love grows just a little deeper... into something that a little girl of just twenty could have never imagined.

a little encouragement

I've been hearing a lot about a great new place...

So what encourages me?
Pure and simple... my faith. Without it, I have nothing... am nothing. It defines me... and my life... and what I teach my children. But while I have always had this faith... this belief in God and Jesus... I have not always lived it. There was a time when I thought days were to busy... my life too full, to possibly fit in time for church. And I didn't realize how much I actually needed a relationship with my Savior.
Until these little eyes showed me the way.

I often think of her small sweet voice sharing her wisdom... Jesus is the Light of the World... and teaching me what it meant.
She encourages me, too. Still.
With her heart... that God has filled with the spirit of giving.
With her hands... that God has guided to create.
With her love... that she can share because He lavishes it so.
It is all I have ever wanted for my children... for them to have a beautiful heart. I just didn't always know that in order to have that, it must be filled with faith. But now... I know.

the rainbow

Whether you are praying for hope... for wisdom... for comfort... or for healing... there is nothing like looking to the sky... and finding that God has adorned it with His promise. There is nothing so precious to me as seeing that He has spoken to me in brilliant colors... that He has smiled on me and graced me with a beautiful gift.

Tuesdays are for looking into my heart and finding the beautiful amongst the clutter. Thank you, Emily...