As promised, I am beginning my posts for my children. How fitting to write to my oldest daughter, Shelli, on Mother's Day, who made this day meaningful for me twenty-three years ago, and is now a mother herself. Mother's Day, 1988, was a bittersweet day. My due date had just come and gone, and there was no baby in sight. When Michelle Leigh arrived on May 24, eighteen hours after the first birth pang, I realized in awe that I had never understood selfless love before that moment in time.
Shelli, you were my dream come true. When I was asked as a youngster what I wanted to be when I grew up, I always said I wanted to be a mom. My sister, Lisa, would get so frustrated with me, trying to impress on me that being a mom wasn't the only thing I could want. It was. The moment I felt your warm little body draped over my stomach and heard your tiny squeak, every dream I ever dreamed was realized. I love you simply because you are my child, but your value as a person and a young woman far surpasses that of being my daughter.
I love your passion, dear daughter. When you were a little girl, you were always the 'director' of the house. You weren't content to sit and do nothing. You took charge of your younger brothers, thought up activities and did most everything with a smile on your face. One of my favorite moments with you was when you were three. After a long night up with the stomach flu, you looked out the window of our condo and saw the most beautiful sunrise. You pointed and said, "Let's show Daddy when he gets home." The sunrise was long gone by the time your father came home after his third-shift job, but I was so struck that you saw the beauty that most toddlers wouldn't notice. You surrounded yourself with it. Whether it was shopping for pretty dresses, driving around looking at Christmas lights, or coloring a picture, you always did it with flair. May you always express your passion.
I love your heart, dear daughter. You have always been tender, even through the worst of life. Sure, you put up your walls - walls too high for me to climb or penetrate, but through the fortress window, I've always seen your lovely, tender eyes tentatively peering out at the world. I remember the day you and your friends in third grade got together to make a card for your teacher because she had no children. I was a little unsure whether it was a good idea to let you give her the card. She contacted me later on and told me your thoughtfulness and love prompted her to seek adoption. When we took in foster kids, I watched your tenderness embrace the little ones who wrapped their arms around your neck as their smiles caught your heart. Even now, though your brothers can be, well, brothers, you take the time to do little things for them that may or may not be met with appreciation. May you always have a soft heart.
I love your femininity, dear daughter. You can be counted on to shed a tear when we curl up for a sad movie, get misty-eyed hearing a beautiful song, or goosebumps watching a fashion show at the beach! May you always be a "girly-girl".
I love your honesty, dear daughter. You have had some very deep joys and hurts along the way, but you don't back down when you need to express yourself. Years ago, that honesty was a piercing light shining in the corners I would have rather kept dark, and we had our moments, didn't we? Your same truthfulness was what brought us closer than I could have imagined when you sat by my bed the night after I gave birth to your baby sister, and told me why you had shut me out of your life for so long. You were brave, showing your hurt and your pain, and only then could I tell you how sorry I was for my words and actions that pushed you away. May you always be honest.
I love your determination, dear daughter. You have had some daunting setbacks and gut-wrenching twists and turns in your life, from a broken family, to cancer, to bringing your own baby into the world in one of the worst winter storms of the year, and having to work each day to keep him safe, warm, dry and fed. You have shown that you are willing to do whatever it takes to be a mother he can count on. May you always be motivated to press on.
If I never had another chance to talk to you, to be your cheerleader, to speak to your heart, here's what I would say...
The same God who created you loves you more than anyone else ever could. The most satisfying relationship there is, is one with Him. Talk to Him about anything and everything. Trust Him to always give you the best - even when His best makes no sense. Don't let anyone judge you for something you've already made right with God. Show love to everyone, no matter how much you think they don't deserve it. Forgive - always. When you mess up, get back on track and forgive yourself. Remember that the years spent loving others is never wasted. Just when you think your baby will never grow up, he will. You did. You will miss the lazy mornings when he just wants to lay his head on your chest and cuddle. Trust me on that one! More than anything, I love you. I always have and I always will.
Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not unto your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your path. (Prov. 3:5, 6).
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Down But Not Out
Well, it's been over two months since I have posted to this blog. I have to admit that I am one who has joined the ranks of working-class single mothers, burning the candle at both ends. I received a promotion at work, had to deal with some debilitating symptoms of my disease, and have found myself back at a place in my life where I need to re-prioritize. As I am in my 45th year of life, I do realize that the old saying is true - "The more things change, the more they stay the same." Once I think I have found the right balance to my life, the rules change. What has not changed is my desire to share my faith and journey with others, hoping that the joys and struggles may encourage someone, somewhere.
As I seek the Lord, and ask Him to show me the balance my life lacks, it is my prayer that He will guide me on the path He has chosen. His yoke is easy, and His burden is light!
I have some promised "letters" to write to my kids in the next four posts...
Right now, I will be cuddling up on the couch to read to my little girl, and tucking her into bed.
Deary Heavenly Father,
Thank You for always being with me, softly prompting me to forge on. I know that there is nothing in my life that surprises You, or is too difficult for You to handle. Please guide my decisions, especially where my time is concerned. Help me to keep eternity's values in view! In Jesus Name...
As I seek the Lord, and ask Him to show me the balance my life lacks, it is my prayer that He will guide me on the path He has chosen. His yoke is easy, and His burden is light!
I have some promised "letters" to write to my kids in the next four posts...
Right now, I will be cuddling up on the couch to read to my little girl, and tucking her into bed.
Deary Heavenly Father,
Thank You for always being with me, softly prompting me to forge on. I know that there is nothing in my life that surprises You, or is too difficult for You to handle. Please guide my decisions, especially where my time is concerned. Help me to keep eternity's values in view! In Jesus Name...
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
The One Thing I Want My Kids To Know
In the previous post, I painstakingly (miraculously) found a way to post a song that I used to listen to in the early '90's. Will you listen to it, even if I tell you it was sung by Debby Boone? Truthfully, I loved listening to this tape which somehow landed in my possession when my kids were little.
I have been praying about what the Lord would want me to write in this blog next. My heart has been swimming with thoughts I want to tell each of my children, so without telling any family secrets, or embarrassing my kids (ok, well not embarrassing them much), I would like to take the next few posts to write to my children individually.
If there is one central theme to my heart's cry for my children, it would be summed up in the following song:
So much to say and just a lifetime left to say it.
How quickly time passes.
If I had my way, I'd keep you safe within my arms
While the storm of life crashes.
I won't always be with you, my child,
But words I can give.
When the winds of hope are dying down,
These words will live.
Above all else, know God's the One who'll never leave you.
Look to Him above all else.
He is love you can depend upon, a heart set to care.
If in the darkest night you should be lost, He will be there.
I won't always be with you, my child,
But words I can give.
When the winds of hope are dying down,
These words will live.
Above all else, know God is good and you can trust Him.
Look to Him above all else.
He’s the Everlasting Father,
In His hands you’ll never fall.
He’s the One who holds it all,
Above all else.
He’s the Author of your laughter,
He’s the Keeper of your tears,
He’s the One who you must fear
Above all else.
He’s the Giver of the kingdom
Bought for you right from the start,
And He’ll ask you for your heart
Above all else.
So much to say
And not enough time left to say it.
Just love the Lord
Above all else.
I have been praying about what the Lord would want me to write in this blog next. My heart has been swimming with thoughts I want to tell each of my children, so without telling any family secrets, or embarrassing my kids (ok, well not embarrassing them much), I would like to take the next few posts to write to my children individually.
If there is one central theme to my heart's cry for my children, it would be summed up in the following song:
Above All Else
Debby Boone
So much to say and just a lifetime left to say it.
How quickly time passes.
If I had my way, I'd keep you safe within my arms
While the storm of life crashes.
I won't always be with you, my child,
But words I can give.
When the winds of hope are dying down,
These words will live.
Above all else, know God's the One who'll never leave you.
Look to Him above all else.
He is love you can depend upon, a heart set to care.
If in the darkest night you should be lost, He will be there.
I won't always be with you, my child,
But words I can give.
When the winds of hope are dying down,
These words will live.
Above all else, know God is good and you can trust Him.
Look to Him above all else.
He’s the Everlasting Father,
In His hands you’ll never fall.
He’s the One who holds it all,
Above all else.
He’s the Author of your laughter,
He’s the Keeper of your tears,
He’s the One who you must fear
Above all else.
He’s the Giver of the kingdom
Bought for you right from the start,
And He’ll ask you for your heart
Above all else.
So much to say
And not enough time left to say it.
Just love the Lord
Above all else.
Please be patient with the "play" button in the next post. If you click on it, and wait a little while, the song will play. And remember - I cherish your comments!
Dear Heavenly Father,
I want to share my heart in a way that honors You. You know that. Please help me to express what You want me to in the next few posts. Please cause Your love to strengthen my children, and others, by giving me just the right words to write! I thank You for your boundless love! In Jesus' Name
Sunday, January 9, 2011
It's Been a Year
Every morning I wake up and listen to music as I get ready for work. Lately, I listen to the Easter's "Going Away Party" on a CD that one of my close friends gave me a few months ago. Without fail, I think of my "little Gram", and how completely she loved the Lord.
Yesterday marked a year since Gram passed on to heaven. I still remember the morning I woke up, didn't hear her stirring in her room, so I puttered around in the kitchen making her breakfast with bran cereal, yogurt and bananas. I took out the notebook I wrote in everyday to mark her sleep/awake times, and also meals and anything else pertinent to the day. This notebook was a little tattered. I had been writing in it for a few months. After I finished making her breakfast, I opened the notebook, entered her breakfast menu, then jotted "awake at 8 am", after a quick glance at the clock. I hurried into her room to pull up the shades and help her welcome a new day. I realized that she was no longer with us as soon as I opened the door and called her name. I thought to phone her family across the street, but didn't tell her daughter-in-law what I already knew. It just didn't seem right over the phone. As soon as I heard the downstairs door open, I met Naida at the door and shook my head. The rest of the morning was a blur, as was the weekend. I was grieving, yet, so thankful that Gram was with her Savior. I missed her - I saw her everywhere, and that first night without her was so quiet and surreal (as many nights have been since, when memories of her sweetly occupy my mind). I had a 16th birthday "party" to throw for my son, between the day she left us and the day of her funeral. My son, Michael, needed to know that he was not forgotten through it all.
The morning of the funeral, I took care of getting the family ready and made the drive to the funeral. We arrived early for the wake. As I walked through the door, Naida, who had been the first person to stand with me in Gram's bedroom, walked toward me and said, "Elizabeth - look at her!" My feet somehow carried me to where Gram lay, and my heart sent a crashing wave through my body. Tears streaming down, I could only stare at the form in front of me. Lovely, peaceful, radiant and joyous can not even describe what I saw. Gram looked younger and brighter. Many of us marvelled that we had never seen anything like it. I thanked God for giving me one last look at "Gram", in such a state of beauty. It's true, she was lovely, yet she was no longer "there". Gram was transported to Glory, and had no more need of her earthly shell. Somehow, the amazing radiance we viewed then was for us, and us alone. Gram was "home".
The year since she passed has been a whirlwind, yet I still "see" her little form, stooped just a bit, guiding her walker around the corner to greet me in the living room. I stand at the stove, and remember being a young girl, watching Gram heat up leftovers in the old frying pan. I pull out her paring knife to peel an apple, smiling inside when my little one asks for the "peels", as I used to ask Gram.
I remember Gram often talking about all the girls at the Boylston Home whenever anyone asked if she stayed in touch with any of them as adults. She rarely, if ever, mentioned me. One day, licking my wounds, I asked her why she never introduced me as a girl from "The Home", when questioned. Gram's eyes opened wide as she looked at me and said, "I didn't think of it. You're not a girl from The Home - you're "my" girl!"
I hope you will listen to the song in the following post. Gram was a dear wife, sister, mother, grandmother, friend and foster mother. But when it came to Jesus, she was, and still is, "His" girl!
Yesterday marked a year since Gram passed on to heaven. I still remember the morning I woke up, didn't hear her stirring in her room, so I puttered around in the kitchen making her breakfast with bran cereal, yogurt and bananas. I took out the notebook I wrote in everyday to mark her sleep/awake times, and also meals and anything else pertinent to the day. This notebook was a little tattered. I had been writing in it for a few months. After I finished making her breakfast, I opened the notebook, entered her breakfast menu, then jotted "awake at 8 am", after a quick glance at the clock. I hurried into her room to pull up the shades and help her welcome a new day. I realized that she was no longer with us as soon as I opened the door and called her name. I thought to phone her family across the street, but didn't tell her daughter-in-law what I already knew. It just didn't seem right over the phone. As soon as I heard the downstairs door open, I met Naida at the door and shook my head. The rest of the morning was a blur, as was the weekend. I was grieving, yet, so thankful that Gram was with her Savior. I missed her - I saw her everywhere, and that first night without her was so quiet and surreal (as many nights have been since, when memories of her sweetly occupy my mind). I had a 16th birthday "party" to throw for my son, between the day she left us and the day of her funeral. My son, Michael, needed to know that he was not forgotten through it all.
The morning of the funeral, I took care of getting the family ready and made the drive to the funeral. We arrived early for the wake. As I walked through the door, Naida, who had been the first person to stand with me in Gram's bedroom, walked toward me and said, "Elizabeth - look at her!" My feet somehow carried me to where Gram lay, and my heart sent a crashing wave through my body. Tears streaming down, I could only stare at the form in front of me. Lovely, peaceful, radiant and joyous can not even describe what I saw. Gram looked younger and brighter. Many of us marvelled that we had never seen anything like it. I thanked God for giving me one last look at "Gram", in such a state of beauty. It's true, she was lovely, yet she was no longer "there". Gram was transported to Glory, and had no more need of her earthly shell. Somehow, the amazing radiance we viewed then was for us, and us alone. Gram was "home".
The year since she passed has been a whirlwind, yet I still "see" her little form, stooped just a bit, guiding her walker around the corner to greet me in the living room. I stand at the stove, and remember being a young girl, watching Gram heat up leftovers in the old frying pan. I pull out her paring knife to peel an apple, smiling inside when my little one asks for the "peels", as I used to ask Gram.
I remember Gram often talking about all the girls at the Boylston Home whenever anyone asked if she stayed in touch with any of them as adults. She rarely, if ever, mentioned me. One day, licking my wounds, I asked her why she never introduced me as a girl from "The Home", when questioned. Gram's eyes opened wide as she looked at me and said, "I didn't think of it. You're not a girl from The Home - you're "my" girl!"
I hope you will listen to the song in the following post. Gram was a dear wife, sister, mother, grandmother, friend and foster mother. But when it came to Jesus, she was, and still is, "His" girl!
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Perspective
I received a comment from a faithful reader yesterday, urging me to keep writing, to keep encouraging others with the love of the Lord. I have meant to write much more often than I have, yet my life has swooped me up and carried me off in a thousand different directions in the past few months. My Christmas tree still stands in the living room due to my rushed schedule. I logged over one hundred hours working last week. The kids have school and sports, and had (what seemed like) a super-long holiday vacation, throwing everything off-kilter. These are my excuses,anyway. I still worship, I still pray, I take five minutes every weekday morning to share a verse or thought with my sisters in Christ, yet the deep-down, soul drenching peace I one possessed is as elusive as a pleasant scent on a breezy day.
In a rare "brain break" at work today, I realized that what's changed is my perspective. Nothing has been really wrong, yet nothing has been really right, either. I still have the same old struggles which come from being a single mother, and all that entails. I have some tremendous blessings, which I am continuously grateful for, as well. I do have a considerable amount of daily stress, but I realize I'm not putting it all into perspective. I looked up the definition of the word. One entry states: "The faculty of seeing all the relevant data in a meaningful relationship."
I heard once that people aren't going to want anything to do with my "Jesus" if my life is marked with the same anxiety and frustrations as everyone else. Why should the world care that I have a relationship with the Creator of the world, if it makes no difference in the way I react to my problems? It would be the same as dying of thirst from a drought with the rest of my community when I have a well in my possession which produces unlimited water. Common sense says that I would not only drink, but offer anyone and everyone around me the water they crave - and they would want the water, because they would see how it revived me! How sad that we so often choose to suffer because we don't drink from the well that Christ makes available to us every moment of every day. Equally sad is the fact that thirsty people around us know we have a "well" in our possession, yet they observe us choosing to deal with our own thirst the same way they do - neglecting the source that can refresh and hydrate our souls.
It explains the lack of peace in my own life. I sent a verse from Isaiah to my friends this morning: "Thou will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee." I didn't have peace today because my mind was not fixed on Jesus. I know it, and I wrestle with God sometimes, asking Him how I could possibly keep my mind on Him when I'm faced with encounters with angry people, angry kids, broken promises, urgent needs - and the list goes on. My own limitations are tested, and I find that I can't focus on anything after a while.
The Lord answered me today, through scripture, as He often does. I was reminded of the following passage, which was quoted word for word by my foster father, "Grampy" (in the KJV at the time) in the final moments of the final message I ever heard him preach in the early '90's. Grampy's memory began to fail him near the end of his life, yet there was a time when he still remembered scripture, and could still pray to the Lord.
4 Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! 5 Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. 6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. 8 Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. 9 Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you. (Phil 4:4-9)NIV
As I prepared to argue with God about how impossible it would be to have peace when dealing with a very difficult person, He reminded me to think about what is true, noble, right, pure, lovely and admirable. If I'm stressing about having too much on my plate, I can find perspective and focus on the promise of Jesus to never leave me. That thought alone is noble, right, pure, etc. There is not one situation I can ever encounter which has the power to rob me of my peace - I may not be able to control my outward circumstances, but with God's help, I can control my focus. He can take my frustrations, stress, disappointments and anger, and flood my soul with pure and noble thoughts. There's another verse that fits perfectly with this passage: As a man thinks within himself, so is he (Prov. 23:7a)
I want to be the woman who keeps everything in perspective. That perspective begins in my hidden thoughts. Having perspective doesn't mean that I wait until life gets easier to be happy or peaceful. It means that I see the "big picture", and I choose to dwell on those things that God says says will bring peace.
Dear Heavenly Father,
I come to you again, as your headstrong adopted daughter, and I thank You for being more patient than any earthly father could ever be! I know you've taught me these lessons over and over, yet I read them again as though seeing them for the first time! Thank You for showing me how to have peace, and for being close at all times. Please help me to continue blessing others along the way! In Jesus' name...
In a rare "brain break" at work today, I realized that what's changed is my perspective. Nothing has been really wrong, yet nothing has been really right, either. I still have the same old struggles which come from being a single mother, and all that entails. I have some tremendous blessings, which I am continuously grateful for, as well. I do have a considerable amount of daily stress, but I realize I'm not putting it all into perspective. I looked up the definition of the word. One entry states: "The faculty of seeing all the relevant data in a meaningful relationship."
I heard once that people aren't going to want anything to do with my "Jesus" if my life is marked with the same anxiety and frustrations as everyone else. Why should the world care that I have a relationship with the Creator of the world, if it makes no difference in the way I react to my problems? It would be the same as dying of thirst from a drought with the rest of my community when I have a well in my possession which produces unlimited water. Common sense says that I would not only drink, but offer anyone and everyone around me the water they crave - and they would want the water, because they would see how it revived me! How sad that we so often choose to suffer because we don't drink from the well that Christ makes available to us every moment of every day. Equally sad is the fact that thirsty people around us know we have a "well" in our possession, yet they observe us choosing to deal with our own thirst the same way they do - neglecting the source that can refresh and hydrate our souls.
It explains the lack of peace in my own life. I sent a verse from Isaiah to my friends this morning: "Thou will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee." I didn't have peace today because my mind was not fixed on Jesus. I know it, and I wrestle with God sometimes, asking Him how I could possibly keep my mind on Him when I'm faced with encounters with angry people, angry kids, broken promises, urgent needs - and the list goes on. My own limitations are tested, and I find that I can't focus on anything after a while.
The Lord answered me today, through scripture, as He often does. I was reminded of the following passage, which was quoted word for word by my foster father, "Grampy" (in the KJV at the time) in the final moments of the final message I ever heard him preach in the early '90's. Grampy's memory began to fail him near the end of his life, yet there was a time when he still remembered scripture, and could still pray to the Lord.
4 Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! 5 Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. 6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. 8 Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. 9 Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you. (Phil 4:4-9)NIV
As I prepared to argue with God about how impossible it would be to have peace when dealing with a very difficult person, He reminded me to think about what is true, noble, right, pure, lovely and admirable. If I'm stressing about having too much on my plate, I can find perspective and focus on the promise of Jesus to never leave me. That thought alone is noble, right, pure, etc. There is not one situation I can ever encounter which has the power to rob me of my peace - I may not be able to control my outward circumstances, but with God's help, I can control my focus. He can take my frustrations, stress, disappointments and anger, and flood my soul with pure and noble thoughts. There's another verse that fits perfectly with this passage: As a man thinks within himself, so is he (Prov. 23:7a)
I want to be the woman who keeps everything in perspective. That perspective begins in my hidden thoughts. Having perspective doesn't mean that I wait until life gets easier to be happy or peaceful. It means that I see the "big picture", and I choose to dwell on those things that God says says will bring peace.
Dear Heavenly Father,
I come to you again, as your headstrong adopted daughter, and I thank You for being more patient than any earthly father could ever be! I know you've taught me these lessons over and over, yet I read them again as though seeing them for the first time! Thank You for showing me how to have peace, and for being close at all times. Please help me to continue blessing others along the way! In Jesus' name...
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