Monday, October 6, 2008

Cat's in the Cradle

I'm reading a Bible study right now and it's talking about what God's purposes in our lives are. There is a distinction between our tasks or our jobs, and our calling. We definitely have particular jobs, some that we choose and some that were chosen for us. For those of us who are believers, we also have a calling, God's calling. The Bible study asked how I would know if God desired to redirect my assignment or mission. I believe God speaks to my heart, that I hear him. But sadly, I admit, I don't always follow his voice. I have felt him calling me to do some things in the past that I have let fall by the wayside. I didn't pursue them and they simply faded away. At times, I questioned whether they were actually for me or not. But as I look back, I think they were missed opportunities for me. It's all very Cat's in the Cradle, when you don't know it was there all the time, until one day it's gone. You don't have the chance to participate in the life of someone any longer. How sad is that? We have all had those experiences in our lives, where someone who should have been a willing participant in our lives or the lives of someone we love, chose not to engage. What if God were that way? What if you said to God, "when you coming home, dad?" and God said, "I don't know when, but we'll get together then. You know we'll have a good time then." Thank you God for not living that kind of life with us. Even though we let our jobs, our past times, our lives get in the way of seeking you, you never give up on us, you're always there for us. "I'm gonna be like him, yeah, you know I want to be like him!"http://www.birdsnest.com/catcrad.htm

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Addendum to Gray!

I was glancing through a magazine and found an article about letting your hair be gray! There was a reference to a book recently written by a woman named Anne Kreamer. The book is entitled "Going Gray; What I Learned About Beauty, Sex, Work, Motherhood, Authenticity and Everything Else That Really Matters" (long title!). I just started reading it, so I don't know whether to recommend it or not yet, but it may address some of the issues I've been facing in letting my hair go gray. If you're inclined, you may want to read it.

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Gray Is The New Blond!

After finally deciding to get off the hair color merry-go-round and let my hair "be", I am learning to embrace my gray. At first, I felt it necessary to point out to people that I had gray hair, not because I wanted them to notice, but because I didn't want them to think I didn't notice it. Now my gray hair is all "grown out" and my natural color is shining through the remnants of whatever the last shade I put on my hair was. Frankly, it has been so long since I saw my natural color that I was afraid I wouldn't like it more than I would dislike the gray. I thought about a rinse or something that would enhance my own color without covering the gray. In the end, I opted to just let my hair be. And I love it! I love the shade of brown that it is. And I absolutely love the gray! I feel like it's a perfect highlight job that doesn't cost me a cent and never needs touching up.


But more than that, I feel like my hair matches who I am now. As I look at the women around me, I see many who color their hair, well into their, let's say "older than I am" age. Their faces and bodies betray their age, even if their jet black or golden blond hair does not. I don't fault them for it, but I finally decided that it wasn't for me. Not that I want to look old. The natural perception may persist that someone with gray hair looks older, but frankly I don't think I look any older than when I covered my gray hair. And to me that it a blessing. I wear my gray hair with honor, because I am blessed to be old enough to have it.

Friday, August 22, 2008

You Can Never Go Home

A good friend's daughter went off to college this week and although her son left just last year, this was different. My friends tell me that guys are less communicative when they're at home and even worse when they leave. So to have one's daughter leave home is difficult, because you loose your girl to hang with, do the domestic stuff, the girly stuff with and the late night chats when they finally get home. Well, you can still have the late night chats, if you can stay up really really late!


But as hard as it is on the moms, it is, in some ways, harder for the kids. My friend said her daughter was planning on coming back for high school Homecoming, to visit friends (and family!) a couple of times in the near future. I didn't have the heart to tell her. The visits taper off quickly and then disappear completely. Their friends make other plans, more exciting things to do than go home. The kids start to change once they're on their own and many friendships can't withstand the transformations. The ones who shared so many interests just a year ago find they have little more in common than their hometown.

Then one day they are married and living in another city. When planning to come stay at your house for the weekend, they mention to their spouse that it is fun to go home. At which point the spouse replies, "We are home!"

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Dallas/Ft. Worth's Got Talent!

In case you weren't paying attention, the winners from this summer's reality shows So You Think You Can Dance, Last Comic Standing and Nashville Star all claim the DFW area as home! We definitely got talent...

Friday, August 8, 2008

In a Moment

Recently, while watching a final episode of a talent-based reality show, I thought about the changes happening in the winner's life. I pondered the "reality" that his life would never be the same. I wondered what it would be like to walk in his shoes, to know that my dreams had come true and there would be no going back. It made me think about the life changing moments that occur in our lives every day. Some of them involve life and death situations: the diagnosis that means certain death, the accident that snatches a life in an instant, the conception of life. All these change someone's life forever. The ripple effect reaches beyond the immediate circle in all directions.

This is never more evident than in the decision to accept Christ as Savior. From the thief hanging on the cross next to Jesus whose soul was saved at the last possible moment to the millions who come to him today, all have this in common: life is never the same after the decision is made. In a moment, life changes forever. And although the process doesn't end with that one decision, the journey begins and the struggles, triumphs, and everything in between all lead to another moment...in which we meet God. That's a reality we can all win!

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

2 down, 1 to go!

Thank God for family returning safe and sound! Soon for the one in Michigan...

On Loving Well

Why did God choose my particular testy? Testy is that person in your life that you find difficult to love. Not the person whom you could really hate, the impossible one, the foe. But testy is the problem person that aggravates, disappoints, challenges in every way. In my Bible study, it says God uses these people to "complete something lacking in us. If we never learn to allow the character of Christ and His love to flow through us to those persons, then they were placed in our lives for nothing but pain and no gain." The idea that God chose these particular people to be in our lives is at first upsetting. For me, as well as a lot of other people, the testy person is in our immediate family. So we're around them, a lot. And we have certain expectations when they are family: they should be easy to love, they should find it easy to love us, they should accept us as we are. If we are honest with ourselves, we may discover that they have the same issues with us: we may not meet their expectations, fulfill their needs as a loved one. Whose to say which came first, their disappointment, or ours?

But when we begin to love them, we reach deeper into God's love, the love God wants to share with us and all those around us. I believe I felt this recently, when I prayed earnestly, not for my testy, but for my foe, the person who hurt me more than anyone else, ever. I prayed for his health and happiness, for his soul to be delivered to Heaven and for him to feel my love. When I finished my prayer, a feeling came over me and seemed to fill me. It was a glimpse of God's love, the pure love that is God. It was a passing moment, not long. I believe it was brief because my love is still growing, not mature yet. Some day, when I love better, I'll feel the love of God even more.

What have I learned from God's word about loving different types of people? Likely, each of us is a combination of all types of people rolled into one person. We are someone's testy, someone's foe, someone's joy to love. There are many who don't even know us. We want the opportunity to turn everyone's heart to accept us and begin to love us as God does. So if that's what we want, we should be willing to give it to others.

Thursday, July 31, 2008

Not Much To Say

I don't have much to say, but I wanted to say it anyway.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

The Gift of Life

At a certain point in everyone's life, they begin to contemplate death. The loss of a family member, a pet, someone you heard about on the internet can bring the thought closer than you want in just a moment. Focusing on the life lived provides some comfort, as well as realizing that death brings an end to suffering of the afflicted, if not to those around them. It doesn't always seem fair. Fair is never promised. But God promises life beyond this world to those who will believe and for that I am truly grateful. I will take everlasting life over fair any day. If this were all there is, how sad to realize that death is just an ending. For me, death will be a new beginning, a new life, an eternal life with no pain and suffering, no more death. Thank you God for that gift of life.

Sunday, July 20, 2008

On Visiting Old Friends

Stumbling down a path,
Through old memories.
Yours, mine.
Ours

My story.
You have your own.
Pain sneaks out, joins.
Tears.

We move forward
Safe and strong
We are.
Don't look back.

Friday, June 27, 2008

Older Posts!

I'm so excited that now when I check my blog, I have "Older Posts"!

Summer

Late in the hot summer afternoon, I sat alternately reading a book and glancing out the nearby window when the automatic sprinklers popped up in the yard and began spraying the grass. The drops danced about the yard, these mingling with those, and all tossing about by the wind. So many memories sprang into my head, popping like little kernels of corn finally reaching their desired temperature and they could not help but burst forward.

My daughters played in our front yard when they were only small toddlers, one of four and the other a little over a year old. They played in the sprinklers then because we didn’t have a pool, and kids have to play in the water on a hot summer day. In the middle of running back and forth over the undulating fountain, Amanda paused.

“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Just peeing,” came her innocent reply. We laugh about it still.

I remember summer days when I was a young girl and my brothers and I walked to the nearby public pool in our town. I walked barefoot, not for lack of footwear, but because it was summer and summer days were meant to be shoeless. The pavement was so hot that I could pop bubbles in the tar of the asphalt with my toes as I walked along. Sometimes I would walk slowly down the steps of the pool, cooling each part of me as I sank lower in the water. But mostly I would jump in feet first, feeling the whoosh of cold all at once. I thought of the story I wrote for Freshman English about those days of my childhood, of not getting a good grade, but enjoying the memory then as much as now.

Then there were the days my daughters and I went to the water park. We had season passes then, because we loved going often. We might stay all day or only for a couple of hours. Audra was still small and used to taking naps. So if we stayed all day, she would lay on a towel in the shade while Amanda and I ate lunch and rested as well. Days of innocence that you can never get back, only visit in memory, on a hot summer afternoon.

Monday, June 16, 2008

The Gifts We Give

The gifts we give our children are not always easily measured. One gift I received from my mom was learning not to smoke. I saw what a disgusting habit and health risk it was for my mom and decided early on it wasn't for me. Thanks Mom. You probably saved me so much money and so many health problems.

A gift I recently got from one of my daughters came in a conversation when she said to me, "Remember when we used to do this...?" I remembered, but more importantly, so did she. My own childhood was frought with pain and heartache; so that most of my childhood is still a vague memory for me. There weren't many pleasant memories to begin with. Too many bad ones. I don't even have a single memory of my mother and father being in the same room together. How sad is that?

So the fact that I gave my daughters pleasant memories is my gift to them. Now they give them back to me when they say, "Do you remember when...?" Thank you for the gifts.

Saturday, June 14, 2008

I Swam With a Shark Today

I swam with a shark today.
We played tag and catch me if you can.

I was a catfish, gliding along in the deep.
I was a dolphin, rippling through the water.

I was a cowboy, riding my trusty horse,
I roped a cow that was getting away.

I was a football player as I jumped
And made the winning score of the game.

I dove for sunken treasure,
Shining in the bright sun.

I turned to see my waves as I dove deeper.
The shark tickled my feet as he slid by.

Bubbles floated up from my face,
Racing to get to the surface before I did.

The blue sky was bluer than the water
As I swam with the shark today.

Friday, June 13, 2008

Solitaire

Did you ever notice how life is sometimes like a game of solitaire? You get the cards you are dealt and can't change that. They sometimes seem out of place and then seem to fit together. Frequently you get the right card at the wrong time and wish you had it to play over again. Sometimes all you get is the same card over and over, like having all four 6's showing at one time. When you play with actual cards, it's easy to cheat, but when you play on a computer, it's impossible. And sometimes, especially rare when you're playing a single card at a time, they all fall into place as they should and you win. All this is metaphor for life. We can't always control what happens to us in life. We have to play the cards we are dealt and make the best of it. Sometimes it just seems like nothing is going right and we want to change some situation and quickly move on to something else. (That's easy to do with computer solitaire, no shuffling the cards for so many times.) And rarely, we get that opportunity when everything falls into place and life works out like we want it. That's why we keep playing, for the joy of playing and sometimes winning.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Daggers and Feathers

For those of us who have children, we know those moments in life. The ones where we have to reach up and take the dagger out of our freshly pierced heart and gently lay it aside, knowing the aim was true, albeit unintended. Our children can say the most innocent thing to us, not meaning to wound, but doing so anyway. Recently, my younger daughter, on a week long trip to Michigan, called to chat with me for awhile. She sounded down, so I asked if she was feeling ok. She admitted she was feeling a little homesick, to which I replied, "Oh, do you miss me?" "Well, I miss College Station and if you're in College Station, then yes, I miss you." Now, she's been away at school for 3 years already, so she doesn't really live at home anymore. She doesn't even come home over the summer; she works at a camp in Michigan for several weeks. So I don't know why I thought she referred to my home. She doesn't miss Mom and Dad and our home much. And it's right that she now considers her place at school as home. But still...

Then today, as we were trying to get her to Dallas flying standby from Chicago, we had to reroute her through Memphis, then to Dallas, because the direct flights were all too heavily booked. As she approached the gate in O'Hare, she said "I'll call you when I get to Memphis". This was the pinprick that said, "Yes, Mom, I need you to help me, but I'm grown and I can fly around the country on my own and I'll be fine. I'll eventually make it home, well to your home, before I get in the car and drive to my home...". So you know you have raised your child to be strong and independent and capable. A feather in my cap...

Come to think of it, I stabbed my own mother's heart when I went away to college. She drove me to Austin and helped me carry my things into my dorm room. After we went to dinner, she drove me back to the dorm. But instead of parking and saying a proper goodbye, I asked her to let me off at the corner. A dagger to my mother's heart. What do they say? What goes around, comes around...

Here's hoping my daughters get more feathers than daggers!

Monday, June 9, 2008

A Big Brown Day

Did you ever have a Big Brown Day? The 2008 Kentucky Derby and Preakness winner and this year's hopeful to break the 30 year drought on the Triple Crown, Big Brown seems to have had a bad day on Saturday, during the Belmont Stakes. It seemed like the other races at first. His jockey let the others break out and we kept expecting him, Big Brown, to come from behind and run away from the pack. But the break never happened. After the race, the buzz was there must have been something horribly wrong with the horse. So far, it seems that the horse is fine. Now we sit and wonder, what happened? Did he just not feel like running that day? Did he just have a bad day, on the worst possible day in his 3 year old life? He had never lost a major race before. We have all had those days. So much is expected of us for whatever our goal is and for some reason, it just doesn't happen. Mine was in high school. I was on the swimming and diving team and it was my senior year. I received my letter jacket as a sophomore, not because I earned it, but because my coach awarded it to me. It was still special to me, but I wanted a chance to earn it. The day of the Regional swim meet in my senior year was the last opportunity to place in the top six and earn the jacket on my own. I had placed 7th in the previous years. I felt ready. I was performing well, consistent and even though my region was the toughest in the state(the number one girl was an Olympic alternate the next year and the number 2 girl now does commentary for the Olympics), I thought I could do it. Unfortunately, I had an off day that day. Dives I could normally do with no problem at all were suddenly hard for me to do. And the hard dives were even worse. Once again, I placed 7th. Sometimes it isn't meant to be. We all have to search for the deeper meaning in the trial and error than in the achievement of the goal. Life is a journey and not a destination, that sort of thing. It took me a long time to find that meaning and embrace it. Hopefully, Big Brown's family will someday reach the same conclusion. Of course, we don't have to live out our Big Brown days in front of millions of people with so much money and pressure "riding" on our backs. Thank goodness!

Monday, June 2, 2008

It's All in the Hands

I recently received a gift from my daughter, as it turned out, on her 21st birthday. It was a framed collage of her hands fingerspelling our last name, with a beautiful Texas sky as the backdrop. I cried when I saw it. Later she asked me if I really liked it and I explained that I liked it on so many levels. I taught her to fingerspell many years ago while I was studying sign language for fun. Since then, she has gone on to study it in high school and college and anticipates a career in interpreting. She frequently shares with me photos she takes of skies, sunsets and sunrises, so that was touching also. But mostly it moved me because of the fact that it was her hands which I consider to be precious. When your child is born, you hold their tiny hands in yours and remark at the delicacy and wonder of their perfect little fingers. When I saw the photos, I realized at that moment that the feeling never goes away. I still feel love when I see her hands, as well as those of my other daughter. I think they are precious still. And I see in them, my mother's hands along with mine. In those hands and fingers are generations of love, caring and wisdom that can only be passed from mother to daughter to granddaughter. I suppose the feeling of loving your child's hands will never fade. At least I hope not.

Friday, May 30, 2008

The Pool Ballet

Tonight as I floated in my inflatable pool chair, I paused in my reading. Well, really, the light teased me as I was trying to read. The setting sun's rays skipped across my page and begged me to look there towards the west, where the wind tickled branches of the trees, dancing about the clear blue sky. The pool sweep swirled and twirled about the pool, as to the music the birds sang in time with the swaying trees. Even my husband unknowingly participated as he drove back and forth and around in circles on his riding mower. One of the birds joined the ballet and lighted gingerly on top of a branch that was too small for its size, causing it to bow down to the audience below. Thank you God for this beautiful performance!

Sunday, March 2, 2008

Sweeter Than Honey

At the beginning of Lent this year, our pastor at church spoke to us about his ideas on sacrifice during this season. The story begins a year ago, when he, along with several of our congregation (including my husband) went to Africa on a sort of fact-finding mission to help determine how our church might best assist the members of one particular area. They spent 10 days touring the area and visiting with individuals who are working in that part of the world to help spread Christianity. Since then, our pastor has taken another group to do mission work and is planning another mission trip later this year. In December last year, the pastor of the African church that our church is working with and his wife came to Grapevine and spent a month in our area. They were amazed at the conveniences all around us, ones that we daily take for granted, like running water and paved roads.

Our pastor was mindful of these differences when it came time to remember Christ's sacrifice at Lent. He spoke to our congregation about choices he made for Lent and encouraged us to focus on Christ and possibly make choices of our own. I had always thought this was more of a Catholic practice and have never participated in "giving things up for Lent." But I felt motivated to introspect and chose to abstain from the 2 main things in my life that I consider myself to be addicted to: soda and sugar. So I gave up them up. The first few days were huge struggles as my body adjusted to withdrawal. I spent a couple of weeks trying to satisfy the urges with sugar substitutes: salt and artificial sweeteners.

After about 3 weeks, I finally reached the point of stabilization, not craving and not substituting. Then I had a couple of days where I was working on a project at home and was busy focusing my energy on it, working until I was beyond tired, and thinking of all that needed to be finished. On the day the project was finished, I was very tired and sore from all the work. I found myself fighting the temptation to drink a soda or stuff something sugary in my mouth all day. I finally realized that my attitude towards sugar was not just addiction, but that I used it as comfort food as well. I vowed to remember this after Lent is over, to find comfort from other sources and use food as nourishment.

The next day, I sat down to read my Bible, trying to catch-up with our Lenten scripture readings that I'd neglected for 3 days. Moments after starting to read, a familiar taste filled my mouth. A taste sweeter than any chocolate, honey or pure sugar was over-powering my mouth to the point of salivation. It took me a moment to know what was happening, but I realized that the Word of God was filling me with the sweetest taste I've ever known. I remembered reading passages in the Bible regarding the sweet taste of God's word. I turned to Psalm 119:103 How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth! I've read these words before, but never felt their power as I did today.

Many times in my life, I've felt God speaking directly to me, or received an immediate and visible or tangible answer to a prayer. Again I'm reminded that God speaks to us often, if we only hear him. May the words of the Lord remain forever sweeter than honey to my mouth!

Saturday, February 23, 2008

That's my job

This is a poem I wrote several years ago. It was originally titled "That's My Job". Somewhere along the way, it changed to "What To Be".

What To Be

Thirty-six years,
Time to decide
What to be.

Wanted to be a teacher.
Loved school, sports, learning.
Studied education.
Too much red tape,
Bureaucracy.
Chokes to death.

Then business.
Eight years of corporate battles.
Didn't have
Sharper Image to climb the ladder.
Bodies in the way.

Now, a Mom.
My job.
Kids,
Housework, yard work, homework.
Low pay, great benefits.
Live for smiles, hugs,
Middle-of-the-night rocking
Nightmare-frightened children.

A teacher, after all.
Of Love, Communication, Caring 101.
Advanced instruction in
Fun, Freedom, Independence.

Watch babies turn into children
And beyond.
See where they're going.
Won't take long.

Then have to decide
What to be.

Monday, February 4, 2008

Why Can't I

It seems easy enough to do. You sit down and type. But when I sit, nothing comes to mind. So I read instead. I read other people's writing and sale notices and emails from companies that I don't want to buy anything from. Then I read books and newspapers. All these other people can sit down and put words together that someone else will want to read. So the question is, why can't I? I was watching an author (Steven King, I think) being interviewed on television and he said that amateurs wait for inspiration while the rest of them just get busy and write. So this is me, getting busy, writing.