family

Stumbling Into Morning

Children, courage, Faith, family, grace, rest, Teaching, Trust, Uncategorized, wonder

Yesterday, I drank from my son’s cup.  Paisley flowers, curlicues, creamy colored. A cup, bought by a still chubby, middle schooler on a church trip with his friends. He came home, announced, “Here, I got you something.”

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So, I drank my coffee, turned my back from the window, the morning so heavy with fog, no desire to gaze towards sunrise.

I read of a man in the Book of John, unable to move towards the water, to be healed.

Scripture defining him as “an invalid’.

Him and many others, others who’d decided to go down into the water, to believe they might see change; to be an invalid no more.

To be valid.

But, he couldn’t figure out how to move towards healing; he didn’t believe he could move what must have been just steps away.

He couldn’t step. He expected he’d fall, an invalid, after all.

 6 When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had already been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be healed?”7 The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, and while I am going another steps down before me.” 8 Jesus said to him, “Get up, take up your bed, and walk.” 9 And at once the man was healed, and he took up his bed and walked.

John 5: 5-9

I thought of all times I’m paralyzed, unable, unwilling to try,  until I stumble back towards the water.

 I thought of the invalid; vowing to never to use the description again, recognizing how low a feeling it is to doubt one’s validity. 

Walking outside with dogs as morning requires, I noticed in the lingering fog, the pear tree beginning to bloom.

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The blossoms barely there against the full of a bland sky, insignificant on this less than optimistic day.

This morning I’m drinking from a different cup. It’s lined in the color of bluebird. It’s a funky little cup, my daughter’s. A big, healthy hog etched in the center of its round edges.

My daughter loves pigs, goats, cats, dogs, cows, livestock, in general. Her bridal portrait on Sunday will have a backdrop of peach blossoms and trees spread so far and wide, for miles it seems.

This morning, I sat with her cup.

The sky spoke, saying…”You can’t imagine the day I have for you, Lisa!”

So, I moved towards our big backyard, looked up and knew it was true.

Not just today, but so many more to come.

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Stumbling, prancing, walking slowly or simply standing still in the early morning

If I could, I’d count these birds of this morning, their voices all a flutter.

I’d touch each blossom of the white flowers of pear tree and I’d know undoubtedly the significance, the validity of my every day.

I’d write on my heart, in my palm with a  sharpie or somehow remember more strongly…the beautiful mercy of believing and stumbling into morning to be healed.

 

Count on it

courage, Faith, family, grace, Motherhood, praise, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

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If I get a little sense of ugliness

Of resentment, longing for different, for better…

Mad about why them, not me.

You can be sure, I’ll be faced with opportunity to redeem

All the ugly.

Run into someone, somehow acquainted with my ugly.

You can be sure of it.

I’ll be humbled and graciously welcome their joy in us crossing paths.

Because, I’ll see the lesson.

I’ll notice the providence.

And to be sure, just as sure, I’ll walk at day’s end with extra time thanks to Spring.

Frustrated over buffered songs sought to comfort

I’ll round the corner.

Climb the hill.

Song begins;  continues, meets every longing.

Speaks what I long to hear.

To tell another.

I can count

on it…walking at day’s end and being reminded of grace.

Listening to Third Day…”When the Rain Comes” and wondering if it’s too much like a love song.

To send to someone having a hard day.

Sending anyway, saying you can count on me.

 

 

Life and Papers

Children, Faith, family, grace, Motherhood, praise, rest, Trust, Uncategorized
Vignette of my life

Vignette of my life

My day was all over the place; my mind, too.

This first, then what?  Work list, home list, wedding list

to do.

Starting, stopping, pausing, pecking at everything, but finishing nothin’!

I sat, disorganized and discouraged, looked up and over the scattered

stacks sorted just yesterday;  making no sense now.

Paused at this little vignette. (I use that word to excess, ’cause I love it. So, no apologies for my pretty little indulgence of word.)

I saw it then, the little thing making sense of it all…

Oh, okay….this is the problem. The paperweight’s upside down.

Smiling then, accepting the now of my life.

But, I left it there; because for some reason it makes more sense this way….at least for now lightens the mood a little.

My baby girl is getting married 4 Saturdays from this very day.

My son is almost done with his first year of college. He had pancakes his sister cooked us just now.

A grant I wrote for our homeless shelter was approved.

I didn’t trip in my heels yesterday in front of a fancy audience of women.

The sun is shining. I’ll go for a walk.

Later ride to the country, my daughter’s new home soon.

Oh, the little, big things worth noticing.

Good day, friends and family.

Good day!

 

 

 

Thanks and Love Unprompted

Children, Faith, family, Motherhood, praise, Prayer, Trust, Uncategorized

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When your children become grown-ups.

There’s a holding back, a fumbling for words sometimes in seeking to know, to just be a part.

All involved, in control, in charge…no more.

What was expectation before becomes tentative, should I ask…?

Questions feel  at first, like awkward conversation, small talk sometimes.

Like your babies are just acquaintances now…just people you know and love, respect, admire.

Then, the sweetest things happen.

Sweet words or just something unexpected.

Thank you for that

or love your hair in this picture

And

Love you.

Crazy special and blessed when love happens unprompted.

And my prayers for them, my daughter and my son, jotted…little dots marking them…have been answered,

This week.

This month.

This year.

 

Be still, the Lord is Working

Children, Faith, family, grace, Motherhood, Trust, Uncategorized

 

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The sky this morning was dark.

Dull and heavy gray, the color of dirty mop water left in kitchen sink.

Unpleasant dark gray, dirt, dust and murk.

Grandma mopped her floor at night.

She dusted little mahogany shelves lined with tiny puppies, angels, bells, and kittens.

Pretty pink ceramic roses,  so many little “nic-nacs”.

Forgot to drain the sink after hanging the mop from a nail on the back screen door.

She’d say, “Look at that, you better not be trackin’ dirt in my kitchen again.”

Early this morning, the trees were bent to their sides by the wind.

The kind of morning, at my grandma’s we’d have been real quiet.

All of us, cousins at grandma’s,  the little white house on the hill filled with love, pancakes and butter cookies.

We’d have moved to the settee and sat straight up, feet dangling over edge, stiff and still.

Knees touching, a straight line of cousins, staring out the picture window, through the corn field towards Aunt Gloria’s.

We’d have sat there until the rumbling sky was a whisper not a jolt.

Until the wind no longer wrapped around us, sang its whistling song of swirl.

Because, my grandma would say, “This is the Lord’s work, be still.”

So, I wanted to cancel my trip today; wanted to be still.

Worried over my daughter driving before dawn.

Uneasy about the wind, the rain, the roads.

Prayed for her, journaling  “Keep us safe, Lord…help us not be anxious.”

The little girl in me, round freckled face, crooked pixie cut bangs shielding shy blue eyes

Remembered her grandma’s instructions,

Remembered her grandma.

Be quiet.

The Lord is working.

The storm will pass, she said.

And it did.

 

Teapots, Dog Food and Blessings

Children, Faith, family, Motherhood, praise, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

It was almost dark; the dogs had no food.  I’ll just run in and out, I thought.

The express line was stalled, a mama had gone back to get something she’d forgotten, the teenage daughter, looking up from her phone told me I should try another lane.

So…I got in line behind a woman with much more than an express amount. I noticed though, her teapot, really pretty,  a creamy white, touch of copper on the handle. “That’s cute.” I said.

I heard what I thought was thank you; then realized she was talking to someone else, somewhere else, the person with whom her earphone microphone thingy was connected.  So, she continued her conversation, not knowing I really liked her teapot.

I wondered if she’d use it or  just set it out somewhere, pretty like my creamy white plates.

My white bowls stacked up together next to antique glass and hydrangea.

Pretty little simple things I love.

My turn now, the cashier glances past me towards the store entrance, mumbles “What are they doing out there?”

Looks back towards her co-worker, the one in stalled line, teenager still staring towards device,  and says something.  I have no idea whatsoever what!

I’m nonexistent, I think… my cart, my dog food. I’m an object in a line.

She complains, the dog food won’t scan, has to type it in. I pay, lift the heavy bag back into my cart and finally she looks at me to say  “Thank you, Miss.”

Now I pause and I’m all out of sorts as to why she called me “Miss”, this girl, her age something “teen”, I’m sure.

I just stood there thinking “Miss?”

Then, I sense her there. This petite little lady, her smile as big as I don’t know what.

She shuffled up beside me, paused with me, her hand touching my arm, patting lightly.

Patting my arm and smiling.

Smiling, continuously smiling.

The kind of smile that reminded of a see-saw on a sunny day, the weight and joy causing her face to tilt happily to one side and then back to other.

She must’ve been 80 or older, looked like she weighed not much more. Her feet a solid foundation in rubbery thick shoes as her little body buoyed along walking beside me.

All put together she was, stockings of thick cotton-colored white, a proper church going skirt, and a delicate golden-colored silk blouse under pearl button cardigan.

“You got you a dog?” She asked, looking into my cart.

I looked towards her wide smile and smiled back saying, “I have two, they’re really my children’s;  but, mine now I guess.”

“Tell me ’bout ’em”, she said, “they married?”  So, I told her about my daughter, a teacher, getting married in April. Her eyes lit up, “Ohhh, that’s sooo good!” she said.  She leaned towards me, listening for more, so I added,  “My son’s 18 and in his first year of college.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” she exclaimed, animated and sincere.

“That is just so wonderful, so good…that’s a blessing.”

“It is.” I smiled and said.

We stood together a minute more, then walking away with her little shuffling skipping step, she smiled again, looking back, neither of us could remember where we parked.

“Me either”, I said “happens all the time” and again she smiled as she turned, both of us remembering where we came from.

And driving home I wished I’d hugged her, wished I’d asked if she had a dog.

Still wishing now.

Blessings!

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Winter now, Spring soon…work, life, faith…

Children, courage, Faith, family, Prayer, Teaching, Uncategorized, Vulnerability

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The breeze moved crisply this morning.

Damp feeling from the night before.

A hard rain giving

Gentle, wispy newness, stirring taller trees in a sway-like dance.

The sky was divided.

Grey thickness separated by an underlay of clear white.

Then, gradual interspersing of illumined white, clear and soft.

Intersecting, blending…a collaborative, much like my work, home, faith, prayer and passion.

I’ve heard stories this week and last of children, teens, young adults who are struggling.

Of parents blindsided by words, thoughts, and acts.

Frightening, shocking and saddening.  The parents, lost for words and for solutions.

One shared their plans for a conversation.

Told me they’d say with bold and outspoken love, “I would be the saddest person on the planet if you killed yourself…would you do that to me?”

I waited, feeling the courage, the truth, the authority behind their words.

Then said… “Your sadness is not on their mind.”

Paused, allowing my words to settle, adding

“If someone is depressed, is so far down in sadness of their own, the only thing they can think of is how to get out of the deep, deep hole that has encompassed them, the dirt of their pain or circumstances surrounding them like a wall caving in.”

“Oh.” they said, eyes dropping down, their understanding palpable.

Work intersects life sometimes for me. Approached in church by a concerned parent I tell them I’ll pray; then I tell them what I’ve learned through stories of survivors of suicide loss. I share with conviction and with intention what I know of depression, what I’ve become passionate in conveying to others, my efforts all based on hearing at least one less story of suicide.

Depression is medical. Depression is not a lapse in or deficiency of faith or belief.

Depression requires a brave and attentive response.

A readiness to hear what you are afraid may be spoken.

Sticking around to listen and then staying close in readiness to hear even more.

Praying too; prayer like David’s, a cry of desperate search for relief from turmoil.

A brokenhearted petition seeking relief, restoration, longing to have reason again to praise when none can be found.  Yes, pray. Pray without boundaries while you seek help and stay close.

Acknowledge the mind as a physical part of the body. Sore throat? There’s a test for strep. Growing pains or something more? There are tests for that.

Bad mood, puberty, peer issues, teenage angst or depression,  there’s a test for that.

The soul thirsts for God; but, is after all encapsulated vulnerably and imperfectly in physical body.

Why are you cast down, O’ my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?  Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God. Psalm 42:5

Be brave. Be attentive.

Be informed.

Respond while you pray.  Winter is hard; but there’s Spring again, soon.

Here’s a valuable resource God blessed me to be a part of forming. 

Visit this page and learn the signs of depression, of suicide.

And another resource designed just now, a new resource of MHA Aiken County as I prepare to speak to teens tomorrow.  Work, life, faith, prevention.

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1 in 10 Teens will Experience Depression.  It is more than sadness.

 

 

 

Grace in the Silence of Morning

courage, Faith, family, grace, praise, Prayer, rest, Trust, Uncategorized, Vulnerability, wonder

I heard it most clearly

As the rain fell steady and fluid.IMG_1336_kindlephoto-378734

It continued through the night.

I’d wake and hear it’s shrill and consistent cry.

Then, drifting back as opportunity allowed, only to be roused again.

A solitary bird, must be a baby I decided…somehow stranded, lost, seeking to be found.

So, morning comes and the dogs must have heard it too.

So anxious to be let out

Rushing through the door, bolting towards back yard, barking frantically at the sky, full retrieval mode.

Barking and circling the yard, looking up from rain-soaked  trunks, tracking the cry of a solitary bird.

Where are you?

What do you need?

Their barks, a seeking and determined banter.

And I followed behind, just as intent, looking up towards skinny and broken pine limbs way up high.

Looking to find the place of this needy, deliberate, and insisting cry.

Others joined,  a variety of bird, more melodic as daylight pushed its way through drizzled gray.

The lone bird’s cry paused, finally.

Had been responded to, so grew softer then, more expectant.

Not so shrill, not so impatiently anxious.

The morning then, a harmonious repose.

So. as the morning goes, I  find myself in my familiar place.

Jotting, reading, praying, sipping coffee and finding words.

Opening my heart, it’s an effortless sort of graceful gift.

God hears my silent and seeking cry again.

As my thoughts become settled and silent.

God’s words making sense every morning.

Easy in the silence.

The Lord will fight for you, and you only have to be silent.  

Exodus  14:14

 

Little is plenty

Children, family, grace, Trust, Uncategorized

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We didn’t wake to snow.

Only cold, wet and windy at my sister’s.

Middle of the day my nephew and I decided to go outside.

The wind met us face first as we barely reached the corner.

We turned back, his little feet peddlin’ fast on his bike and me running, shoulders hunched, head down, slightly geriatric.

He catches up,  runs inside first , turns back to say, “I love you, Aunt Lisa.”

Back inside, with coffee I open a book I won’t be able to finish.

One line though, enough for today.

If you did not want much, there was plenty. Go Set a Watchman

My nephew asked, randomly,  “Are you rich, Aunt Lisa? “

I thought and said, “Yes, I am.”