Judy

Today, I honor a woman I never met
but whose life and death
have greatly impacted my life.

Interestingly,
through a mutual friend,
I prayed for her,
her husband,
and her children
before I ever thought it possible that
I would one day become a part
of that same family.

For many reasons,
I wish I had known her personally.
But I have learned about her
through her husband and children;
her mother, sister, and nieces and nephews;
her step-daughter and parents-in-law;
and through some of the many friends she had.
All people that we now share.

I have learned of a godly woman
who sought to serve her God and Saviour
above all.
I have learned of a loving wife.
I have learned of a devoted, excellent mother.
I have learned of a sister who was a dear, close friend.
I have learned of a caring daughter.
I have learned of a brilliant, dedicated, kind teacher,
an award winning educator.
I have learned of a compassionate friend.

In the beginning,
I was intimidated by this virtuous, nearly perfect woman.
But over time,
the stories have changed,
become more intimate,
and I learned of another woman.

I learned that she was sassy, and funny, and opinionated.
I learned that she could be stubborn.
I learned that she liked to shop -
especially for antiques, Christmas decor, and future gifts.
I learned that she was sometimes insecure.
I learned that she was thoroughly modern in her lifestyle -
and old-fashioned.
I learned that she liked to do things a certain way -
and that's the way they were done.
I learned that she was very private.
I learned that she was protective of her own people
and let others into the inner circle carefully.
I learned that she was extra-ordinary -
and extremely ordinary.
Not so different from me.

But what I learned most thoroughly
was that she deeply loved some of the people
I most deeply love,
and that she was and is deeply loved by them.

On this day that marks her loss
and the passing of time,
I am grateful for this fine woman,
this virtuous follower of God,
this loving wife,
this devoted mother
who has left a legacy that has changed my life.
The woman she was,
made them the people they are.
I am profoundly grateful!

I never met Judy Newton.
But the pebble she cast in the lake of her life
has rippled out
and touched me deeply.

As I pray my Lanny Love
and bonus children through this day,
I am filled with awe
that our loving God so richly blessed
them with life with Judy;
that He so richly blessed her with life with them;
and that the loss they feel so keenly today
is only temporary
for they will meet again one day in Heaven!

I am filled with awe
that God has so richly blessed me
with these people she so cherished,
and I pledge that I will
always love them,
always cherish them,
always treat them in a way that would please her.

No, I did not know Judy.
But today,
I honor the woman who,
through her ripples,
changed lives.
Including mine.

Until we meet in Heaven......

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes,

and there will be no more death, sadness, crying, or pain, 

because all the old ways are gone.

                                                                      ~~ Revelation 21:4

The new rule

I have always considered myself to be an impulsive person.
And in some respects I am.
I tend to make decisions very quickly and emotionally.
For example,
I have been known to travel at the drop of a hat.
Or when we purchased our home,
I knew immediately it was the one.
Or when I fell in love with my Lanny Love,
there was no pondering and thinking about it,
I knew I wanted to marry him.
And I am always up for an adventure
of most any kind!

However,
despite the fact that I tend to make major decisions impulsively,
once the decision is made,
an act of Congress can't change my mind.
I am realizing that I am anything but impulsive
in my daily life,
rather, I am extremely routine oriented and...

RIGID.

For example,
we have had a house guest this week.
Normally, I rise,
have my coffee and read my Bible -
from my rocking chair in the front window -
take my shower,
dress,
put my moisturizer on my face,
make the bed while the moisturizer absorbs,
put on my make-up,
do my hair.

This morning,
it was necessary to wait for my shower a bit
so I made the bed while I waited.
When I applied my moisturizer,
I didn't know what to do!
Literally!
So while I waited,
I thought about other ways in which
I am routine oriented.

1. Lanny and I sit in our chairs in the front window
to have our coffee and read our Bibles in the morning.
Sometimes the sun makes it uncomfortably warm
so we move to the den.
It bothers me.

2. Lanny sits at the head of the table,

I sit to his left.

Always.

A while back,

our grandson wanted to seat everyone

at a family dinner

and when he came to me,

I said, "Here"

indicating my chair.

He sat me there.

(It was this incident that spurred this line of thinking)

3. Every day, 

I read five Psalms 

(that gets me through the book once each month)

and one Proverb 

(same thing)

in addition to what I am reading in my 

"through the Bible in a year" plan

(I spend much more time than a year doing this,

but it gives me a "plan")

and whatever devotional I am using at the time.

4. Coffee and Smart Mix as soon as I get up,

breakfast at 10:00,

lunch at 1:00,

Dinner at 6:00.

(In my defense, 

scheduled eating is important for a diabetic, 

particularly one who is diet controlled.)

5. I count things.........

There's more,

but you get the idea.

I have found myself wondering recently

if I have always been this rigid,

or if it is one of the personality changes

that came with widowhood.

I think it is a combination -

I have always been more routine and detail oriented -

it's what made me an excellent secretary/paralegal -
and I have always mostly been a rule follower.

But I have not always been so rigid.

There is a difference!

Being routine and detail oriented is fine.

Even impulsiveness is okay in some things.

Being rigid is not okay or fine!

Webster sees the difference as follows:

Definition of routine

1. 1a :  a regular course of procedure if resort to legal action becomes a campus routine — J. A. Perkinsb :  habitual or mechanical performance of an established procedure the routine of factory work
   
   
    
   In other words,
   a usual way of doing things.
   
   
   
   
   
   

Definition of impulsive

1. having the power of or actually driving or impelling
2. a :  arising from an impulse an impulsive decisionb :  b: prone to act on impulse an impulsive young man

 

In other words, 

not really thinking things through, 

making a thoroughly informed decision.

Definition of rigid

1. a :  deficient in or devoid of flexibility rigid price controls a rigid bar of metalb :  b: appearing stiff and unyielding his face rigid with pain
2. a :  inflexibly set in opinionb :  b: strictly observed adheres to a rigid schedule
3. firmly inflexible rather than lax or indulgent a rigid disciplinarian
4. precise and accurate in procedure rigid control of the manufacturing process 

 In other words,

hard-nosed,

controlling,

setting up and following rules all the time,

sticking to the plan - no matter what.

I think it is just as bad as it sounds.

I am not unpleasant in my rigidity.
I don't pitch a fit
or criticize,
but it eats at me.
And it's a joy/fun thief -
theft not only of myself,
but others.
(Thinking of that grandson incident...)

I can be flexible.
With proper notice.
Time to wrap my head around the change.
But that's not being flexible after all.
It is still wielding control.

When we travel,
I know things won't always go as planned.
And I often say with enthusiasm,
"It's part of the adventure!" -

and I mean it! -

and just go with the flow.
I think that I am able to do that then
because I am outside of "normal" anyway.

I had a boss and dear friend
whose daughter had problems with change.
She began telling her toddler,

"It's not bad, it's just different and different is okay." 

I'm not sure,

but I think it likely that

that now middle-age adult

still tells herself that.

So, from here on out,
my new mantra for everyday life will be

"It's part of the adventure!"

and

"It's not bad, it's just different and different is okay."

It's my new rule.

I know...............

Silver linings

I live in Texas.
Harvey......

I have a friend who left Galveston on a cruise
just before Harvey.
She is now "a red and white bobber on the ocean".
Her five day cruise is nearing the end of the second week.

Think Gilligan's Island.

She is safe and sound,
warm and dry,
and enjoying an extended vacation.

Silver lining.

Don't get mad.
I am in no way suggesting that Harvey was a blessing
because my friend is getting a longer cruise than she paid for.
In no way!
The devastation is horrendous!
The loss of life,
the injuries,
the property damage and destruction,
all horrendous!

BUT.....

In every horrendous situation
there are silver linings.
I was visiting with one of my bonus daughters the other day.
We were talking about traveling at the drop of a hat.
I mentioned that in the early days of my widowhood
I did that quite a lot.
And I chose to look at it as a silver lining.
I didn't have to consider anyone else in my decision to travel.
So I often went from no plans
to in the car and on the road
in under an hour.

Was I glad my Al was gone so I could do that?
Absolutely not!
But, he was, in fact, gone.
And as I began to try to continue living without him,
I began to look for the silver linings.
That was one.

You know,
nothing happens in our lives,
or in our world,
that has not first passed by the Father!
I don't believe He is happy about all that passes by Him.
But for reasons we will only know in Heaven,
He allows even those things that we -

and He -

would rather have another way.

Why the devastation of Harvey?
I don't know.
Only He knows why He allowed it.
But I do know this.
He controls the wind and the waves.
He calmed the sea when it was for His glory
and the disciples' benefit.
And He allowed devastation
when it was for His glory
and mankind's benefit.

Think the cross....

His glory,
our benefit.
Silver linings.

Look for them.

Jesus got into a boat, and his followers went with him. 

A great storm arose on the lake so that waves covered the boat, but Jesus was sleeping.

 His followers went to him and woke him, saying, 

“Lord, save us! We will drown!”

Jesus answered, “Why are you afraid? You don’t have enough faith.” 

Then Jesus got up and gave a command to the wind and the waves, 

and it became completely calm.

The men were amazed and said, 

“What kind of man is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!”

                                                                                               ~~ Matthew 8:23-27 NCV

Preambles and caveats

I've been thinking about this for a while.
About two years.
I think I'm ready.

A while back,
someone commented to me that,
while they were glad I am happy,
glad that the anguish of active grief had abated, 
it bothered them a little bit that I appear happier now
than I was with Al.
To be honest, it was not a new concept.
It bothered me too.

I remember the first time I thought that.
I was shocked!
How could I possibly even be happy,
nevermind happier!!!
My husband was dead!
I should never be happy again!

The passing of constant active grief
is a confusing time.
I will tell you that,
even while choosing joy,
as happiness began to appear,
I hid much of it.
It felt like letting him go a bit more if I was happy.
Active grief kept him near.

It's funny.
In the beginning,
after the numbness,
came the anguish
and I frantically searched for anything to make it stop!
It was too much!
More than I could bear!
There were times I literally thought I was dying.
The pain was physical!
It was emotional!
It was mental!
It was all-encompassing!

But all my frantic searching,
all my running away from home,
all my attempts to fill the empty spot,
none of it helped.
The hole could not -
and cannot -
be filled.

And so I stopped.
I became still.
I listened for that still small voice.
I waited on God.
And slowly, slowly,
joy returned.
I began to know peace.
Began to accept.
This was my life.
This was the new me.
And I could live with that.

Then it happened.
Laughter.
Genuine, belly hurting, tears flowing, laughter.
New Year's Eve 2014.
And it felt so good!!!
It wasn't just joy,
it was happy.
And fun.
And I enjoyed it immensely.
For a couple days.
Then the guilt set in.
And the renewed sense of loss.
And God spoke!

"It's okay to be happy again!

I want that for you!

I have a plan to make it happen!"

You see, our joy comes from God.

But happiness, that's different.

That has to do with our circumstances.

And my circumstances hadn't changed,

my Al was still dead.

But I had changed.

Healing had begun to take place.

The scab that had formed had begun to fall off,

leaving an ugly scar,

still tender to touch,

but no longer excrutiatingly painful.

No longer bleeding with every bump.

And I felt guilty for being happy,

even for that moment in time.

But it happened again,

laughter.

Happiness in the moment.

It began to happen regularly.

And I began to welcome it.

Internally.

And carefully display it externally.

Because it somehow felt disrespectful.

I often still find myself in that spot,
particularly in my new marriage.
If I am thrilled with my Lanny Love -
which I am always -
and publicly post my delight in this gift of God,
I somehow feel obligated to also mention Al,
even if in a round-about way.
You know,

"I am so blessed to have this wonderful second opportunity!"

"I love the chapter 2 God has given me!"

"I have been blessed to have twice what many never have once!" 

These are true statements!

And sometimes they need to be said!

But sometimes I just want to brag on my Lanny Love

and on my God for giving him to me!

But I feel disloyal if I do.

I worry that people will misunderstand,

think I'm "over" Al,

think I don't miss him.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

I worry that my children or grandchildren or sisters-in-love

might come to resent my Lanny Love

if I don't provide the caveat.

The flip side of that is that

I worry that if I say that I love and miss my Al

without saying how much I love my Lanny Love

and how grateful I am to be married to him,

he will be hurt, 

or my bonus children will think I look at him as less than Al,

or that our friends will wonder if there are problems in our marriage

or if, in fact, we were ready to get married at all.
Nothing could be further from the truth.

So, here I am,

caught between two lives,

between the "before" and the "after".

Because everything is one of the two. 

What's a girl to do?

Well, a scripture came to my mind the other day.

But most of all, my brothers and sisters, 

never take an oath, by heaven or earth or anything else. 

Just say a simple yes or no, 

so that you will not sin and be condemned.

~~ James 5:12 NCV 

Please don't misunderstand!

Most assuredly,

I am taking this out of context!

Neither this Scripture,

nor the similar one found in Matthew 5:37

have a single, solitary thing to do with the subject at hand.

But, as so often it does,

God's Word made me think about this struggle of mine -

for it is a struggle to feel obligated to balance myself

and to protect everyone! -

and made me realize that this feeling of obligation to...

protect...

dishonors God who gave me both of my wonderful husbands,

each for the season He determined,

and who expects that I should honor Him with truthfulness at all times

and in all things

and let Him protect the hearts of others!

I should say what I mean!

Without preamble.

Without caveat.

Exactly what I mean.

I am not lying when I add statements.

But I am in an attitude of deceptiveness.

Because when I am feeling love for and missing my Al,

I am loving and missing my Al.

When I am grateful for and expressing my love for my Lanny Love,

I am loving on him!

And while they co-exist,

and always will,

to add the other to my feelings of love, loss, and/or gratitude

that I feel led to share

is actually dishonoring to the one I'm really talking about. 

God has been so good to me!

And it's quite okay for me to brag on just how good!

I can say that I loved being married to Al -

because I did!

And I can say that I love being married to my Lanny Love -

because I do!

And, as was observed,

I am happier now than I was.

But that is not because Al is less than,

that is because God lovingly brought me through very, very dark waters,

and He taught me many things during that near-drowning experience.

I am different now!

I am happier because I have changed!

I recognize the folly of many things that I made important back then.

I recognize the great blessing of a wonderful, godly husband.

I recognize the gifts God has given me!

I have repented and, 

with God's help,

I am a better wife!

I am happier,

because God has refined me!

So no more caveats, 

no more preambles

from me!

I will brag on God

and whichever of my blessings

I am feeling particularly grateful for -

or the loss I am feeling more keenly -

on any given day!

Without guilt!

From this day forward!

For God is good!

He has richly blessed me! 

Crazy trust

It drives me crazy,
the wondering.
An event in my life.
One where I know how it turned out,
but not why.
And not if I was right.

I go 

back 

and forth,

back 

and forth,

back 

and forth.

It drives me crazy!

It doesn't really matter.
I tell myself that.
And I'm right.
It doesn't.

But still I wonder.

You see, one way, I was simply a foolish woman.
The other way, I was foolish and wrong.
And there is no way to really know which it is.
It bothers me.
A lot.
And satan just loves that!

He is the author of confusion,

self-doubt,

crazy.

When this issue comes to mind,

it gives him great pleasure.

And for a long time,

I have been unable to figure out how to stop it.

Yesterday it came to me.

I can't!

Only God can!

But . . . 

Here's the thing . . . 

I have to let Him!

You see,

unlike satan,

God is a gentleman!

I have asked for clarity.

He said "No".

He said I don't need to know.

He said I can't be in control of everything.

Or anything.

He said I have to trust Him.

Or satan.

The choice is mine. 

He won't force me to have peace in this!

I can trust Him and trust that He alone knows the 

"why" and "what if" and "rightness" 

of the situation.
Even when it's crazy!

Or I can fall prey to satan's taunts

and waste precious time and energy wondering.

It's up to me.

You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You, 

because he trusts in You. 

~~ Isaiah 26:3

Today

Today, my grandsons graduated from high school.

Nearly 43 years ago, my dear grandmother went to Heaven.
I was 17.
The day before the funeral,
we had all gathered at my grandparents' home,
as families do in times of sorrow.
I came running down the stairs and when I hit the floor
there, in the living room, was my precious grandpa,
his head in his hands,

sobbing.

His heart was broken.

Flash forward 20 or so years.
Three years after my grandma's death,
grandpa remarried.
Seventeen years later, we were in Phoenix
for his 75th birthday.
Everyone was there.
Siblings, children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, aunts, uncles,

everyone.

We were doing what families do at reunions -
a dozen different things.
Some gathered around the table snacking and talking.
Some outside splashing in the pool.
Some sitting on the patio visiting.
Some watching a sports event on TV,
rooting for opposing teams and harassing one another.
Some playing a game.
My grandpa and I were sitting on the fireplace hearth,
holding hands and chatting.
A moment of quiet companionship had settled in
as we looked at all the activity and people around us.
And then I noticed.

Tears trickled silently down his cheeks.

He turned to me and said,

"You know Jeanie (family name for me),

I love Grandma Margie with all my heart,

but on days like this,

I miss your grandmother."

Instantly, I flashed back to that other day

and those two moments in time became forever fused in my mind and heart.

Today,

I fully understand.

I am a daughter

I am a daughter.
And this is why we have Mother's Day.
Every single one of us is a daughter or son.
And this day is only one of two that are biblically insinuated.

"'Honor your father and mother.'

This is the first commandment with a promise'"

                                                                 ~~ Ephesians 6:2 NLT 

This is a day, set aside for honoring our mothers.

We have another for Father's next month.

I am very blessed to have had a mother who was easily honored.

Not everyone does, I know.

But that does not negate the fact that we are commanded to honor them.

Some simply must do it differently.

So, while we are to honor our parents daily,

today is a special day set aside for that purpose.

And today, I want to honor the mothers in my life.

My own mother has been in Heaven for just over 36 years.

I was not quite 24 when she died.

But what a mama she was for those 24 years!

The last nine years, she struggled with the ravages of cancer.

And before that, her life was difficult.

But what a woman of God she was - 

and became even more so over those cancer years!

She was not perfect.

She was a terrible housekeeper.

But that was because she worked long, hard hours to provide for her family.

And she spent time with us when she wasn't working.

She nursed us when we were sick.

She played with us when we were littles 

and as we aged, she continued to play with us, 

just differently.

She loved practical jokes and was very good at them!

She loved to sing and had a lovely, soprano voice.

She had a temper and there was no doubt when we'd pushed her buttons -

and we loved to push her buttons! 

She was a brilliant woman.

And she loved her children with her whole heart!

I miss her so much!

Al's mother has been in heaven for four years this month.

She was my "mom" for longer than my own mother was.

Even before we were married, she mothered me.

So, at the time of her death, she had been my mom for 42 years.

She was a helper and advisor and friend.

I called her mom from the day of our official engagement forward.

And she treated me like a daughter.

Sometimes that wasn't fun when she didn't approve of something I'd done,

but it made me know that I was hers!

She raised a good man who became a good husband and daddy!

She was a good mom and I miss her! 

My Grandma was a mom to me as well.

In my early childhood, she was a great grandma

but with my mother's cancer diagnosis,

she came to help and became a mom.

How she loved her daughter!

And how she loved her grandchildren!

She once saved my life when my mouth got me in trouble,

resulting in a smack on the bottom from my mother,

which may or may not have resulted in an impulsive smack back from me.

This is not something I would recommend!

Anyway, Grandma saved my life that day I am certain.

At the same time, I knew undoubtedly that she was disappointed.

And that really hurt for I never, ever wanted to disappoint my grandma.

Grandma went to Heaven three years ago today.

I miss her!

My other grandmother was a preacher's wife.

And she always smelled of leather and juicy fruit gum.

She was a gentle, loving woman.

She taught me to sing hymns from memory,

to memorize scripture,

and that prayer and time with God was really important!

I always wanted to be like her when I grew up.

She has been in Heaven for nearly 43 years

and I miss her!

My mom's best friend, Karen, was a mother to me.

She was and is a trusted friend and advisor.

She is fun and funny and a joy to know!

I love her deeply!

I had several step-moms but the last, Jackie,

was a treasure!

I cherished our friendship and the hope she gave me for my dad.

She has been in Heaven for seven years.

I miss her.

Finally, my new mom.

What a blessing my Lanny Love's mother is to me!

She raised her son in such a way as to provide his children

with a wonderful daddy,

and me with a wonderful husband.

And she has opened her heart and her arms to me,

welcomed me wholly and completely into her heart.

Not only me, but my children and grandchildren are hers now as well!

She is a wonderful, godly example of the Proverbs 31 woman!

I love her so much and pray for many, many more years to enjoy her!

So, I have been blessed in my life with Godly, loving women

who have mothered me.

They have each and every one helped to mold me

into the woman I am today. 

Without their influence, direction, and love,

my life would be vastly different.

It is my joy, my privilege, 

to honor them today!

Thank you, Lord, for so blessing me!

I am a mom

I do not remember wanting anything in life
more than I wanted to be a mom.
I mothered my dolls.
I mothered my siblings.
I played house.

More than I wanted to be a nurse
during my Clara Barton phase.
More than I wanted to be a detective
during my Trixie Belden phase.
More than I wanted to be singer
during my Karen Carpenter or Sandi Patty phases.
More than I wanted to be an attorney or teacher or ....
whatever.
More than anything,
I wanted to be a mom!

And, joy of joys,

I am a mom!

But, this part of Mother's Day,
while my fondest dream come true,
is not without sorrows.
I struggled to get my two girls.
Seven pregnancies.
A still birth.
The loss of their precious daddy.
Sorrow.

But my dreams come true,
my sweet Chrys and her son-to-me, Craig,
and my sweet Kim and her son-to-me, Dusty,

(Oh, are the guys their husbands

not just my sons???

Whatever.....)

have brought indescribable joy to my life!!!

How I adore them!

From the moments I knew they were coming,

through the difficult pregnancies,

the moments of their births,

the first time they said "mama",

their first steps,

their first sassy talk (there was a LOT of that to follow...),

their first dates,

first formals,

their weddings,

their pregnancies,

from the very first moment,

I adored them!

I adore them still!

We have come to a fullness of relationship now.

No longer simply mother and daughters,

we are friends.

I confide in them,

and they in me.

During the early days of my grief,

they mothered me.

During my time of dating,

they supported me.

When I announced my engagement,

they thrilled with me -

and grieved with me that I was free to remarry.

We play together.

Sometimes we work together.

We disagree with one another sometimes.

We share life together.

And they are good, fine women!

They love God,

their husbands,

their children.

They loved their daddy and treated him with great respect.

They love their bonus dad and treat him with great respect.

And they love me and treat me with great respect!

And my sons-in-love!

Finer sons a mother-in-law could not want!

They treat me as their own!

And they are mine as surely as are Chrys and Kim!

They love me,

and I love them!

Yes, I am a mom!

I could not ask for finer dreams come true!

Thank you, God! You have truly blessed me!

 

 

I am a step-mom

I am a step-mom.
This Mother's Day fact brings me great joy.
And sorrow.
You see, I am a step-mom because of great loss.
I grieve for my two bonus children whose momma is not here.
Her absence is a gaping wound on days like Mother's Day.
I grieve for my Lanny Love who loves and misses his beloved
and misses celebrating in person with the mother of his children on Mother's Day.
I grieve for my bonus daughter who has a strained relationship with her mother
and longs for what should be - and isn't.
I grieve for myself as I miss the man who made me a mother.
And I grieve for my children and grandchildren for whom
Mother's Day is a reminder that their daddy isn't here to celebrate with us.

And so, the joy I feel in my bonus children
is tempered with sorrow.
Because without the sorrow,
I would not be a step-mom.

Step-mom'ing is very different from mom'ing.
And yet it is the same.
It is different in that I did not raise my bonus children.
I don't have memories of childhood to share with them.
I don't know them well.
They don't know me well.
But we are learning each other!

It is the same in that I love them!
I love them as my own!
I often wonder that this is possible!
How can I love adults that I did not birth,
did not raise,
as if they were my own?
God!
That is the only explanation!
Just as He loves me

- and you -

as His own!
Isn't that just amazing???

He loves us as His own!

Despite the fact that we have hurt Him!
Despite the fact that we love Him imperfectly -
or not at all in some cases!

He loves us as His own!

We are brothers and sister to Jesus Christ!
Fully His!

And so, I joyously celebrate being a step-mom!
Not just in spite of the sorrow!
Not just through the sorrow!
Certainly not because of the sorrow!
But because being a step-mom is a great gift!

A gift of bonus children!

A gift of love!

A gift of restoration!

A gift of beauty from ashes!

A gift of learning more of the character of God!

A joyous, delightful thing,
being a step-mom to these marvelous people,

this Tiffany,

this Aleisha & Blu,

this Zach & Jamie,
these wonderful bonuses of Mother's Day!

I am a grammie

This week is Mother's Day.
It is a day of remembering and celebrating
having and being a mother.
For some it is wholly joyous.
For some it is wholly sorrowful.
For most it is a mixture of the two.
I fall into the latter category.

Wholly joyous is the fact that I am a grammie!
I have four wonderful grandchildren:

Hayden is my oldest.
He is 18 and graduating from high school this year.
It does not seem possible!
Just the other day he was watching "Bob the Builder"
and fascinated by "big trucks"!
I will never forget the day my daughter told me he was coming!
I was at work and ran up and down the hallways telling everyone,

"I'm going to be a grandma!!!" 

And when he was born -

oh the love that filled me the moment I heard his first cry!

He is a marvelous young man,

responsible,

smart,

kind,

compassionate,

athletic,

resourceful,

handsome,

and so much more!!!

I am so glad to be his grandmother!!!

I am so proud of him!

Ashton is the next oldest.

He is 17 and also graduating from high school this year.

Again, it just doesn't seem possible!

I had the wonderful privilege of seeing Ashton come into the world!

What a joyous experience!

Ashton came unexpectedly and with some physical issues.

He is truly a miracle!

You see, he was born with a heart defect.

One that required a heart transplant.

Which he never received.

At not quite two years old,

as he neared death,

God performed a literal overnight miracle of healing!

He went from a dying toddler

to a healthy, active one overnight!

And he's been on the go ever since!

Ashton is also a marvelous young man,

smart,

funny,

tender,

caring,

compassionate,

responsible,

handsome,

and so much more!!! 

I am so glad to be his grandmother!!!

I am so proud of him!!! 

Next is Xander.

Xander is 9,

but he is my newest grandchild.

He came with my Lanny Love.

I have not known him from his birth,

rather, I met him not quite two years ago.

But what a joy he is in my life!

Xander is a marvelous young man,

smart,

energetic,

inquisitive,

funny,

dramatic,

handsome,

and so much more!!! 

I am so glad to be his grandmother!!!

And I am so proud of him!

Finally, my little princess, Kylie.

Kylie is 8,

and she was a surprise blessing.

My daughter had tried for several years to no avail.

Then suddenly, she was expecting.

What a great blessing Kylie is!

The only girl in a sea of boys,

she is all girl!

She is a marvelous young lady,

smart,

inquisitive,

tender,

funny,

energetic,

imaginative,

beautiful,

and so much more!!!

I am so glad to be her grandmother!!!

I am so proud of her!!!

I purely love being a grandmother!!!

I look forward to the grandchildren yet to come

and celebrate those who are part of my life now!

How I love these four precious gifts from God!!!

Awareness

Most of you probably aren't even aware there is such a day.
I wasn't until 2014, the first time I was one on this day.
It is National Widows Day.
And I really don't get it.

It is certainly not a celebration!
It is intended for awareness as near as I can tell.
Most of us know a widow

 - or widower - 

and are aware that they have lost their spouse.
Widows and widowers are certainly aware and don't need to be reminded!
And a "day" won't make anyone understand the depth of loss until they experience it.

So what exactly is this day supposed to do for the widowed?
Are there runs for the cause?

No.

Are there events to benefit those left behind?

No.

I don't get it.

Many of my new widow friends embrace this day.
They post about it and advise their FB followers to hug a widow today,
do something kind for them.
Shouldn't we do that daily?
Do we need a day,

once a year,

to know that widowed people are lonely,

that they've lost more than a spouse,

that they crave someone, anyone, to hug them?

Maybe so.
Maybe we do need to be reminded.

As I said, no one can really understand until they've been there.
I didn't.
I had no clue!
Even as I prepared for Al to leave this world,
walked him to the veil that separates this world from the next,
I didn't know!
Widowhood changes everything!
Right down to one's very personality.
And the losses don't stop with the death of your spouse.
You lose your lifestyle.
You lose income.
You lose friends.

Why is that?

Widowhood is not catching!

And we don't want your husbands or wives,

we want our own!

We need you more now than we ever have!

You lose your sense of identity.

You lose your handyman.

Or your cook and housekeeper.

You lose your bookkeeper and bill-payer

- men and women both -

and financial advisor. 

You lose your lover.

You lose your friend.

You lose yourself

- more so the longer you've been married.

You lose your parenting and/or grandparenting partner.

You lose your travel buddy.

You lose your confidant.

You lose your sense of being.

And it doesn't stop after the first year.

Or after falling in love again.

Or after remarriage.

It doesn't ever stop.
Love doesn't die, people do.

You will always be widowed.

A piece of you will always be missing.

So, today -

and tomorrow -

and next week -

hug a widowed person

- women AND men.

Talk to them about their loss.

Even if they have begun Chapter 2,

they still feel the loss.

But especially if they are still alone.

Mow her lawn.

Make him a real, home-cooked meal - 

and share it with him!

Take them out to dinner and a movie.

Send them flowers once in a while.

Talk to them about who they are becoming -

because the stranger across from you 

is the stranger in the mirror too!

Love them!

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this:

to look after orphans and widows in their distress 

and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.

                                                                                             ~~ James 1:27 NIV 

Resurrection

"After the Sabbath, 

at dawn on the first day of the week, 

Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb.

There was a violent earthquake, 

for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, 

going to the tomb, 

rolled back the stone and sat on it. 

His appearance was like lightning, 

and his clothes were white as snow.  

The guards were so afraid of him that they shook 

and became like dead men.

The angel said to the women, 

'Do not be afraid, 

for I know that you are looking for Jesus, 

who was crucified.  

He is not here; 

he has risen, 

just as he said. 

Come and see the place where he lay.'"

                   ~~ Matthew 28:1-6 NIV ~~

Friday (Reprinted from 4/3/2015)

"Then Simon Peter drew a sword 
and slashed off the right ear of Malchus, 

the high priest's servant...

Simon Peter followed along behind...

Peter stood outside the gate... 

[but the woman watching at the gate] let him in. 

The woman asked Peter, 

 "Aren't you one of Jesus' disciples?" 

"No," he said, 

"I am not."... 

                           ~~ John 18:10, 15-18 NLT ~~

He loved Jesus.
So much that he had declared allegiance unto death.
So much that he attacked a member of the government,
a "police officer".
So much that when others scattered,
he followed.
He loved Jesus with all his heart!
But when push came to shove,
Peter denied even knowing Him,
rather, passing himself off as a curiosity observer,
a rubber-necker.

Jesus had washed his feet!
"Wash all of me!" Peter had impassioned!
Jesus had saved him from certain, harsh punishment just minutes earlier
when He healed the soldier's wound.
But fiery, passionate, dedicated Peter denied his Saviour.
Three times in quick succession.
Because he was afraid.

Jesus had said he would.
Peter had vehemently denied it!
And when he had denied Him the third time,
Peter's guilt and shame most likely nearly crushed him!
As he looked into Jesus' eyes,
he quickly looked down.
He suddenly remembered Jesus' prediction.
And shame and regret and grief washed over him.

As he watched the rest of the story unfold,
the guilt increased.
He watched as his shame ran down the beams of the cross
in Jesus' blood.
And then it was over.
And disappointment and sorrow joined the shame.
And Peter was changed.
Forever.

You know the "Friday feeling"!
We all know it!
We do things,
say things,
feel responsible,
disappointed,
crushed in spirit,
unforgivable.

But Jesus!
Jesus knew Peter!
And He knows us!
And Peter's "Friday" rolled down that cross!
And so did ours!
And we are changed by Friday.
We walk away,
confused,
dejected,
heartbroken,
angry.
But Friday wasn't the end!
Glorious Sunday was coming!
And when it did,
Peter was changed again!
And so are we!

Holy Week (Reprinted from 3/30/15)

"The next day, 

the news that Jesus was on the way to Jerusalem 

swept through the city. 

A huge crowd of Passover visitors 

took palm branches and went down to the road to meet Him. 

They shouted, 

'Praise God! 

Bless the One who comes in the Name of the Lord! 

Hail to the King of Israel!'" 

                                                   ~~ John 12:12-13 NLT ~~

Imagine it!
The adoration!
The love!
The Worship!
It would have been heady stuff!
It would have been easy to grasp hold of and hang on to!

Yesterday's adulation was still fresh that Monday morning.
And as Jesus walked the streets of the city,
people likely still cried out,
"Look! There He is!"
Some likely became followers that day.
While others began to murmur.
"The pharisees are right! Who does He think He is!"
It had begun.
And Jesus knew it had!
He could have stopped it!
But He didn't.
He walked among the people,
wooing them,
looking into their eyes
knowing He would soon die for them,
knowing they would cry for His crucifixion.
And He went forth anyway!
He loved them anyway!
He loved you anyway!
He loved me anyway!

"Truly He was the Son of God!"

May God fill you with wonder
at His sacrifice for you as this Holy week begins!
May you look into His face,
gaze into His eyes,
and watch as your sin disintegrates under the power of His mighty love!

The Lord is my strength and my shield;

my heart trusts in Him,

and He helps me.

My heart leaps for joy,

and with my song I praise Him.

                                                                 ~~ Psalm28:7 NIV ~~

36 years

Thirty-six years ago today,
my mommy went to Heaven.
I have learned that we are never old enough
to stop needing our parents.
And I have learned that we never stop missing our loved ones
and grieving their loss.

But that's not what this post is about.

This post is about the woman I grew up with
and the one who entered God's presence
just after midnight on March 28, 1981
and heard those wonderful words,
"Well done, good and faithful servant."

My mama was a unique woman.
She was incredibly shy and insecure.
She was brilliant.
She was fun and funny -
she loved playing practical jokes and was really good at them.
She had a beautiful voice.
She had a beautiful face.
She was compassionate and loving.
She was kind.
But she had that Irish temper and could be dangerous when provoked.
She loved her family passionately.
She was a nurse in the newborn nursery and she loved her babies.
She was gentle but when angry, she could make a sailor blush.
Like most of us, she was very complex.

My mom did not have an easy life.
She was a child in a single parent home,
the result of divorce,
in a time when that was shameful for the entire household.
Her marriage was a bitter disappointment.
At 34, she was diagnosed with cancer.
She spent the last nine years of her life having surgeries and chemotherapy.
Over the years, she had become understandably bitter and cynical.
She expected the worst from life and was not often surprised.

My mother was raised in church and,
in the early years of their marriage,
my parents were in ministry.
My mother spent years loving and serving God.
But the stress of her life took it's toll on her spiritually.
Her emotions and weariness began to take over
and she came to believe that she was a disappointment to God
and there was no point in trying any more.
She worked nights and slept days.
It was a convenient excuse to give up going to church.
And she settled into a sad and lonely existence.

Then cancer.
Now, one would think that would have made her more bitter,
would have made her more distant from God.
It didn't.
Cancer changed her.
I believe it gave her the ability to allow herself
to become the woman God created her to be.
She lost her bitterness.
She became a woman of great forgiveness.
She became a new creature.

The last nearly nine years of her life were physically hard.
Facing death, the knowledge that she would not likely
get to finish raising all her children was emotionally difficult.
But she thrived spiritually.
She began to trust God.
She trusted Him to take care of her children.
She trusted Him to take care of her mom and family.
She trusted Him to take care of her friends.
And she finally, finally began to trust that He loved her,
just as she was.

My mother and I are emotionally similar.
And God has taken us on a similar journey spiritually.
He has chosen a different learning tool for me.
But I am learning.

Thanks, Mama, for being a good example!
I miss you!