All over the northern hemisphere, there is a phenomenon happening called, "Fall". The nights begin to grow cooler, the days become shorter, and everywhere you look, trees & bushes start to change from a saturated green to radiant red, brilliant yellow, and deep orange. We don scarves and boots and walk around on crunchy, leaf-filled sidewalks exclaiming to each other how beautiful it all is.
Science tells us that since the chlorophyll "food" is no longer being supplied to the leaf, it cannot retain it's green color. At the same time, a layer of cells begin to form between the stem of the leaf and the tree, in essence, severing the leaf. When the leaf finally falls, it no longer abides in the tree and a leaf scar is all that is left.
Have you ever thought about death being beautiful?
The world certainly doesn't deem death as something to celebrate as a glorious end. It is celebrated, glorified even, but only in the most ghoulish, scary, dark ways. Whatever comes after this life is to be feared.
But in Christ, we know a different end. We grieve with hope when we say goodbye because we know that what lies ahead is far better than anything we could imagine here. Death has no victory, it's sting is only the pangs of separation.
We abide in the Father in this world, but when our souls are severed from our bodies, we will still abide with the Father...but then face to face. We do not fear death, but embrace the knowledge that to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord.
And there is nothing and no one more beautiful than He.
Thursday, November 1, 2018
Saturday, August 18, 2018
The Moments
It was hard to watch this moment and not be able to fix the turmoil going on inside her soul. Motherhood is becoming increasingly harder as we dab our toe into the preteen waters and start navigating friendships. Not the friendships of the kids of the moms that I hang out with, but the friendships she is making on her own.
The look on her face when she realized that she had been forgotten about, she had been overlooked, someone else had captivated her friend's attention, and said friend moved on instead of honoring the commitment she had made...I knew all about the tearings going on inside her at that moment. I lived that moment many elementary and high school days. I watched as her beautiful blue eyes filled with tears, her chin quivered, and she said, "She's not here...she said today at 3:00, but she's not here." I would have done anything for her not to have to walk through that moment, but I knew I could not.
These are the moments that made me into who I am today. If I had not been allowed to walk through emotions like loneliness, sadness, anger, frustration, and disappointment, I would not have the emotional depth to walk her through her own oceans. This is a part of her making. When I pray for her to become a woman who seeks God alone...I am praying for these moments even if I don't realize it. Her 11 year old heart is being called out to hear the voice of her true Friend who never leaves her, never forsakes her. In times like these she is reminded that He will always be present, she will never be alone. This circumstance reinforces to her that God does not change, what He says He is, He is. What He says He will do, He'll do. Like the tide each evening and the sun each morning, He is more dependable than anyone else we know. His love is steadfast towards us even when we falter or turn away from Him.
As her sisters played at the park, we sat in the car and had yet another talk about friendship and what makes a good friend. We discussed disappointment, anger, frustration, and sadness as she sat in the seat with big tears rolling down her tanned cheeks. And we talked about how her response matters. It matters that she chooses to still interact kindly with this girl...she's not a bad person, she just may not be trustworthy. It matters that she not put people on a pedestal full of expectations...they will fail you, they are not God. It matters that you not sulk about what happened, but instead make the choice to look up, look around at who might need a friend. It matters that you see this as something you yourself may do and think about how it affects the person on the other end of the equation. And it matters because your whole life you are going to interact with people who will let you down, not keep their word, pick someone else over you, and not be a trustworthy friend...so we must learn what to do with the emotions that come when these moments happen.
I nudged her out of the van, and she took her seat on the grassy bridge to think things through. She presently came down to the play area and took to the swing and teeter-totter for a while before coming to sit beside me on the bench.
I looked at her profile and I saw what everyone else sees: flawless skin, blonded-by-the-sun hair, blue eyes, a little belly that loves sweets and carbs, and a frame that is continuing to grow like a weed. But I also saw what they may not see: a silly laugh, willing volunteer, tender emotions, growing faith, quick temper, avid reader, creative mind, bossy big sister, and loving daughter. In the Potter's hands, she will be molded into a masterpiece, but the reshapings and pressure that He lovingly applies are all part of who He is making her to be, and must be navigated with trust that He knows and has a plan. My goal is not her popularity, not making her into who I think she should be, not removing all obstacles from her path...my goal must always be to bring God into the conversation in all the moments. Because although I see so much more of her than others, I don't see what God sees in her. She has her own calling, her own purpose. My job is merely to equip her with the tools that help her become the woman God has already planned her to be.
Never have I felt the years growing so short, and my capabilities as a mother lacking as I do tonight. So I lean into the same truths I shared with her today, because I need them too.
Monday, August 13, 2018
The Answer
My girls have been leaving me the sweetest little notes that I can't bear to throw away. They collect on my desk, my bedside stand, beside my bed on the floor, in my purse, and randomly in a cabinet or as a bookmark. I want to write them back each time they sneak a new scribbled sheet into my hand or when I find a piece of their artwork waiting on my pillow when I go to bed.
Their notes say, "I love you so much. You are the best mom. Thanks for taking care of us. I want to be like you when I grow up. What are we doing tomorrow? I'm going to have a better response next time I am disappointed." And my littlest one tells me each night, "You are my favorite." I want to write them back and tell them all the things that moms need to impart to their daughters. Be gracious to others. Don't be afraid to be different in a crowd. Stand tall and be the woman God made you to be. Embrace the under-dog. Stick up for your sister. Use your words wisely. Don't settle for good enough when the best is waiting. Close your mouth when chewing. Conduct yourself like a lady, but know how to aggressively play ball. Find your passion and cheer others on in theirs. Use the china, life is too short for paper plates all the time. Respect your elders even when you don't agree or don't understand. Be compassionate. Seek Christ.
But I know if I wrote every single thing I thought they should know, it wouldn't be enough. I know this because my mom wrote me so many letters, notes, emails, texts, and messages. I talked for hours with her on the phone and when I didn't answer, she always left a lengthy voicemail. She's been gone for 22 months, and everyday I want to ask her something. I want her opinion. I want her wisdom that is 32 years down the road from where I am right now. I want to hear her voice, "Hello Debra Darling!" For all the writing and talking we did for 38 years, it didn't cover all the topics that I need to discuss with her, because when are we ever ready to be without our mother? And it seems like there are more and more things that I want to talk about with her...so many parts of life I need help with, so many questions. But she's no longer here to give answers.
After all of that, I have learned there are answers, but it's not like before. Instead of trying to impart each tiny thing to my girls, I hope to leave legacy of The Answer -- Jesus Christ.
My Dear Girls,
There will come a day when you will not be able to find me in the house, call me on the phone, or text a quick message. You will want a conversation about a friend, insight about kids, to tell me about a crazy dream, to ask me about my medical history, to get a recipe you remember, to organize in your brain again the family tree of great grandfathers. Yet, all you will have left will be memories and written words or recorded moments...and it will feel lacking.
You may not find answers to those questions, but my prayer is that I will have prepared you to find all the other answers your heart seeks. That your "why's" and "what if's" can be laid in front of our loving Heavenly Father and your soul will find rest as you seek and find what you are longing for...Answers. Because I have traveled this road before you have, let me share some of the answers that have become so sweet, yet brokenly beautiful as my aching heart chooses their truth over and over.
He is enough. You shall not want, need, or desire anything that He cannot provide to your heart, soul, and mind.
When you are lonely, He is present. Always, Everywhere. The same person with me is with you.
When you need wisdom, He is omniscient.
When you are broken, He restores your soul. He will make all things new (this is our true hope and promise).
When your world is changing, He is unable to change, it's against His nature.
When you are feeling defeated, He is the Lord of Hosts...He will fight your battles.
When you wanted more time that what we had, He is your portion in all ways, all things, all circumstances.
When the days are dark, when the nights come too soon and are filled with tears and alone-ness, He gives his beloved sleep, you dwell in the shelter of the Most High.
When you ask "why" again, He is sovereign...and we are the created ones. Can the clay tell the potter how to form it?
When you want to hide rather than face the things needful for the day, His feathers cover you as you abide in the shadow of the Almighty wings.
When all comforters can give no comfort, lay your head down and let the Comforter utter the deep groanings that you cannot even verbalize.
When every older woman is someone else's mother, He is your heavenly Father...which is incomprehensibly better than a father or a mother.
When your friends mom is aged and yours did not see those years, Jesus is better. (ok, that was more for me than for the girls)
I memorized Psalm 139 early in my 20's because I could not view myself like God viewed me. Now, many years later, I see that not only does it tell my standing to a Sovereign King, it more importantly tells me who He is and how deeply it should affect and change me. Be steadfast in Hope, my sweet girls. His words in Psalm 139 are promises and He who promised is faithful, so hold fast to the confession of our Hope. One day we will behold Him together...may He find us faithful to Him through each day we live, looking forward to the day we will truly be ALIVE.
Press on, my dears. He is worthy.
All my Love,
Mom
Their notes say, "I love you so much. You are the best mom. Thanks for taking care of us. I want to be like you when I grow up. What are we doing tomorrow? I'm going to have a better response next time I am disappointed." And my littlest one tells me each night, "You are my favorite." I want to write them back and tell them all the things that moms need to impart to their daughters. Be gracious to others. Don't be afraid to be different in a crowd. Stand tall and be the woman God made you to be. Embrace the under-dog. Stick up for your sister. Use your words wisely. Don't settle for good enough when the best is waiting. Close your mouth when chewing. Conduct yourself like a lady, but know how to aggressively play ball. Find your passion and cheer others on in theirs. Use the china, life is too short for paper plates all the time. Respect your elders even when you don't agree or don't understand. Be compassionate. Seek Christ.
But I know if I wrote every single thing I thought they should know, it wouldn't be enough. I know this because my mom wrote me so many letters, notes, emails, texts, and messages. I talked for hours with her on the phone and when I didn't answer, she always left a lengthy voicemail. She's been gone for 22 months, and everyday I want to ask her something. I want her opinion. I want her wisdom that is 32 years down the road from where I am right now. I want to hear her voice, "Hello Debra Darling!" For all the writing and talking we did for 38 years, it didn't cover all the topics that I need to discuss with her, because when are we ever ready to be without our mother? And it seems like there are more and more things that I want to talk about with her...so many parts of life I need help with, so many questions. But she's no longer here to give answers.
After all of that, I have learned there are answers, but it's not like before. Instead of trying to impart each tiny thing to my girls, I hope to leave legacy of The Answer -- Jesus Christ.
My Dear Girls,
There will come a day when you will not be able to find me in the house, call me on the phone, or text a quick message. You will want a conversation about a friend, insight about kids, to tell me about a crazy dream, to ask me about my medical history, to get a recipe you remember, to organize in your brain again the family tree of great grandfathers. Yet, all you will have left will be memories and written words or recorded moments...and it will feel lacking.
You may not find answers to those questions, but my prayer is that I will have prepared you to find all the other answers your heart seeks. That your "why's" and "what if's" can be laid in front of our loving Heavenly Father and your soul will find rest as you seek and find what you are longing for...Answers. Because I have traveled this road before you have, let me share some of the answers that have become so sweet, yet brokenly beautiful as my aching heart chooses their truth over and over.
He is enough. You shall not want, need, or desire anything that He cannot provide to your heart, soul, and mind.
When you are lonely, He is present. Always, Everywhere. The same person with me is with you.
When you need wisdom, He is omniscient.
When you are broken, He restores your soul. He will make all things new (this is our true hope and promise).
When your world is changing, He is unable to change, it's against His nature.
When you are feeling defeated, He is the Lord of Hosts...He will fight your battles.
When you wanted more time that what we had, He is your portion in all ways, all things, all circumstances.
When the days are dark, when the nights come too soon and are filled with tears and alone-ness, He gives his beloved sleep, you dwell in the shelter of the Most High.
When you ask "why" again, He is sovereign...and we are the created ones. Can the clay tell the potter how to form it?
When you want to hide rather than face the things needful for the day, His feathers cover you as you abide in the shadow of the Almighty wings.
When all comforters can give no comfort, lay your head down and let the Comforter utter the deep groanings that you cannot even verbalize.
When every older woman is someone else's mother, He is your heavenly Father...which is incomprehensibly better than a father or a mother.
When your friends mom is aged and yours did not see those years, Jesus is better. (ok, that was more for me than for the girls)
I memorized Psalm 139 early in my 20's because I could not view myself like God viewed me. Now, many years later, I see that not only does it tell my standing to a Sovereign King, it more importantly tells me who He is and how deeply it should affect and change me. Be steadfast in Hope, my sweet girls. His words in Psalm 139 are promises and He who promised is faithful, so hold fast to the confession of our Hope. One day we will behold Him together...may He find us faithful to Him through each day we live, looking forward to the day we will truly be ALIVE.
Press on, my dears. He is worthy.
All my Love,
Mom
Monday, May 21, 2018
Mother's Day
This is a weekend I’m struggling with, and maybe you are too. I had a hard initiation into the club of losing a mom a year and a half ago…and my second Mother’s Day without her is shaping up a little rough feeling.
But here’s the thing. She was my mother by blood (and she was truly amazing), but so many other women have mothered and mentored me through the years. I can hardly stand the thought of turning my focus inward to loss and instead choose to look at the beautiful souls God has placed in my life. Women who continue to speak truth into my marriage and my parenting, who come alongside and encourage and love the woman I am and see the woman God wants me to become. These are His good gifts to me during a time when I want to refuse to acknowledge His choices for my life…when I question His love and goodness to me.
Our arms may be empty and our hearts may ache to have what we thought we should have this Mother’s Day, but those are not our only choices regarding motherhood. We always have older and younger women around us…we are mothered by the elder and we mother those younger than us…it’s the Titus 2 model. And amidst our own griefs and sorrows, it is the sweetest thing to know that God has not left us alone. In His goodness, He provides.
What if empty arms and aching hearts are what He chooses to draw us closer to Himself? To seek Him and know Him deeply? Isn’t that our purpose in this Christian journey…to know Him and the power of His resurrection?
I know you hurt. I hurt too. But give honor to whom honor is due. Rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep. Joy is always intermingled with sorrow, we must learn to embrace the idea that our life paths are not the same…and that there is no politically correctness that will make it all ok or fill the lonely gaps, only Love wins, Christ’s love.
To those who mothered me growing up, and those who mother me in adult life, to those I have mothered, to the women in middle life with me, to my sisters who each carry a part of my mom …and to Mom… Happy Mother’s Day. I love you and am so thankful for your influence in my life. Let us lean into our good God who is our portion. He is enough. 
💗
💗The Comeback
I keep saying I'll start blogging again when people ask me if I write often...but I haven't returned to this site. It's been over 6 years since my last post and as I've read over my past posts, I can't help but notice that although I am the same person, I'm also a different person. And that's ok...we should be growing & changing as we progress through life...but there has been so much life that has happened.
This is the year of my comeback. Age 40. Through the first year of deep grief that almost overcame my faith. Re-entering life as a wife, mom, friend, daughter, disciple. Re-engaging and better understanding my purpose, my identity, and God's ways over my own.
Instead of trying to catch up and fill in the years of blank spaces, I'm just going to start in with my latest thoughts I wrote on Mother's Day weekend. This blog is more of a journal for me, a way to record life quickly and "say" things aloud that I want to remember.
If you're still here with me, Hi. Here I go.
This is the year of my comeback. Age 40. Through the first year of deep grief that almost overcame my faith. Re-entering life as a wife, mom, friend, daughter, disciple. Re-engaging and better understanding my purpose, my identity, and God's ways over my own.
Instead of trying to catch up and fill in the years of blank spaces, I'm just going to start in with my latest thoughts I wrote on Mother's Day weekend. This blog is more of a journal for me, a way to record life quickly and "say" things aloud that I want to remember.
If you're still here with me, Hi. Here I go.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
A Part of Me
I started this post early last week...and could not work my way through my thoughts to complete it. The laundry will not get folded and put away today...again. My birthday thank you's will continue to sit unwritten on my desk. But I am finishing this post today. I'm ready.
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My grandma went Home last week.
It was an emotionally-full, physically-tiring week that felt accelerated by my girls getting sick, and getting off to the funeral one day in order that I could be home the next. Seventeen hours of driving, a funeral, grieving family, and sickness waiting at home packed into 38 hours...I'm just spent.
Seventeen hours of driving on my own provided me with much time of prayer. But oddly enough, I did not reflect much on what the passing of this amazing lady would mean for me. And so today, with most of the sickness behind me, and much rest caught up on, the reflection begins...and it comes in waves. Thinking about how her life wove into mine, the intangible things I inherited from her, how her passing affected so many people who loved her...and how I hope I am like her one day.
Grandma was funny, feisty, opinionated...very opinionated, young, beautiful, and godly. She is a reason I am who I am today. As a young wife, she heard a sermon on the radio and gave her life to Christ. And a year later my Grandpa came to Christ. They raised a family of 8 as best they knew how. My dad went into the ministry in part because of her, and raised his own family of 4. I am not in ministry per se, but I love my Jesus and am passing on that love to my little family of 2.
She was short, like me. She sang alto, like me. She loved pretty things, flashy belts and fun shoes. ;o) Me too. She always knew where she stood on a matter, and sometimes to a fault would argue her position...I could stand to be a bit more courageous in some areas, and back down in some others. Grandma was never old to me, not even when I "grew up". She just always looked the same...until just a few short years ago. And when she smiled, her whole face would smile...her eyes, her mouth, each beautiful wrinkle in her skin. Her laugh was contagious. I can still hear it. Her sense of humor was not what one would expect from their grandma, she came out with some of the driest, funniest things. She was a pool shark, and lobbied for Senior Citizens rights at her state capital. She drove her car like a racer around those curvy rural Missouri roads. She was an independent lady, but fell in love again years after my Grandpa had passed...
The last time I talked to her on the phone, she was full of life and joy, and was wishing to see me & her new great-granddaughters. We never got down there...and I'll always be sad about that. I was rummaging through some photo albums and came across a picture from our wedding. I teared up right away. I looked at it and thought: That's my Grandma. She was so happy that day. Happy for me. Celebrating with me. There for me. What else could one ask for? She loved me...even if I didn't get down to see her often, even if she wasn't able to meet my family. She loved me and was there when she could be.
If you know me well at all, you know that music is a language that speaks deeply to me. I get lost in the longing chords of a double bass, and reflective in the expressive tones of a voice. I have listened to "For Always" by Josh Groban about 100x since Grandma left this place...it's two phrases that get me every time...
"I close my eyes, and there in the shadows I see your light..."
and
"For always and ever, you'll be a part of me..."
She will always be a part of what makes me me. I'll close my eyes and see that face...and I'll forever be thankful for the amazing woman that God chose to put in my life.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My grandma went Home last week.
It was an emotionally-full, physically-tiring week that felt accelerated by my girls getting sick, and getting off to the funeral one day in order that I could be home the next. Seventeen hours of driving, a funeral, grieving family, and sickness waiting at home packed into 38 hours...I'm just spent.
Seventeen hours of driving on my own provided me with much time of prayer. But oddly enough, I did not reflect much on what the passing of this amazing lady would mean for me. And so today, with most of the sickness behind me, and much rest caught up on, the reflection begins...and it comes in waves. Thinking about how her life wove into mine, the intangible things I inherited from her, how her passing affected so many people who loved her...and how I hope I am like her one day.
Grandma was funny, feisty, opinionated...very opinionated, young, beautiful, and godly. She is a reason I am who I am today. As a young wife, she heard a sermon on the radio and gave her life to Christ. And a year later my Grandpa came to Christ. They raised a family of 8 as best they knew how. My dad went into the ministry in part because of her, and raised his own family of 4. I am not in ministry per se, but I love my Jesus and am passing on that love to my little family of 2.
She was short, like me. She sang alto, like me. She loved pretty things, flashy belts and fun shoes. ;o) Me too. She always knew where she stood on a matter, and sometimes to a fault would argue her position...I could stand to be a bit more courageous in some areas, and back down in some others. Grandma was never old to me, not even when I "grew up". She just always looked the same...until just a few short years ago. And when she smiled, her whole face would smile...her eyes, her mouth, each beautiful wrinkle in her skin. Her laugh was contagious. I can still hear it. Her sense of humor was not what one would expect from their grandma, she came out with some of the driest, funniest things. She was a pool shark, and lobbied for Senior Citizens rights at her state capital. She drove her car like a racer around those curvy rural Missouri roads. She was an independent lady, but fell in love again years after my Grandpa had passed...
The last time I talked to her on the phone, she was full of life and joy, and was wishing to see me & her new great-granddaughters. We never got down there...and I'll always be sad about that. I was rummaging through some photo albums and came across a picture from our wedding. I teared up right away. I looked at it and thought: That's my Grandma. She was so happy that day. Happy for me. Celebrating with me. There for me. What else could one ask for? She loved me...even if I didn't get down to see her often, even if she wasn't able to meet my family. She loved me and was there when she could be.
If you know me well at all, you know that music is a language that speaks deeply to me. I get lost in the longing chords of a double bass, and reflective in the expressive tones of a voice. I have listened to "For Always" by Josh Groban about 100x since Grandma left this place...it's two phrases that get me every time...
"I close my eyes, and there in the shadows I see your light..."
and
"For always and ever, you'll be a part of me..."
She will always be a part of what makes me me. I'll close my eyes and see that face...and I'll forever be thankful for the amazing woman that God chose to put in my life.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Curvy Girl Goes Skinny
No...I did not lose weight, I did not achieve the "thin as a rail" status. People do not say, "Wow, I can't believe you have had 2 kids, you look amazing!" They say, "You look so nice." The word 'skinny' does not grace the space next to my name. Actually, the word 'skinny' has never been put next to my name. I digress...
Actually, what I DID do is discover a skinny jean that works on a curvy girl. Four years ago I had lived through two years of Iowa winter and knew I needed something more in my winter gear. Enter riding boots. And warm legs. And stylish functionality. Thank you...I can now survive. But, I had no jeans that I could wear inside my boots, so I just wore them outside. I have tried on ENDLESS numbers of skinny jeans only to be disgusted time and time again. I mean, first off, I'm short - Strike 1. Secondly, I have hips larger than my waist - Strike 2 (which you think would be common knowledge about women's bodies - eh?). And lastly, I don't like to wear jeans that hug my every crevice! - Strike 3. And that's why I've never owned skinny jeans. And I was sad to have to wear my pants over my boots...but I was warm.
Then I read this. And I went to AE (where I never shop). And I tried them on. And I am in love with the Skinny Kick as well as the Skinny. And I found them on sale on Cyber Monday with free shipping. And the world rejoiced as the angels sang. Or...maybe I was listening to Christmas music while I ordered. Anyway...they are as close of a perfect fit as I've ever worn.
If you happen to be a curvy girl, make sure these get put on your Christmas list. Your boots will thank you.
Actually, what I DID do is discover a skinny jean that works on a curvy girl. Four years ago I had lived through two years of Iowa winter and knew I needed something more in my winter gear. Enter riding boots. And warm legs. And stylish functionality. Thank you...I can now survive. But, I had no jeans that I could wear inside my boots, so I just wore them outside. I have tried on ENDLESS numbers of skinny jeans only to be disgusted time and time again. I mean, first off, I'm short - Strike 1. Secondly, I have hips larger than my waist - Strike 2 (which you think would be common knowledge about women's bodies - eh?). And lastly, I don't like to wear jeans that hug my every crevice! - Strike 3. And that's why I've never owned skinny jeans. And I was sad to have to wear my pants over my boots...but I was warm.
Then I read this. And I went to AE (where I never shop). And I tried them on. And I am in love with the Skinny Kick as well as the Skinny. And I found them on sale on Cyber Monday with free shipping. And the world rejoiced as the angels sang. Or...maybe I was listening to Christmas music while I ordered. Anyway...they are as close of a perfect fit as I've ever worn.
If you happen to be a curvy girl, make sure these get put on your Christmas list. Your boots will thank you.
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