As the remaining moments of 2011 dwindle away, I smile as I hear a house full of teenagers laughing, screaming, and acting crazy just like I did on New Year's Eve--not so many years ago. It has become a yearly tradition that our home serves as the gathering place for our boys and many of their friends on New Year's Eve. I love them being here, and I don't worry about them being out and about on a night when so many people don't act very responsibly. "My" bunch will ring in 2012 playing Xbox and board games, watching scary movies, battling in Nerf wars, and chowing down on a midnight buffet that would rival any on the Vegas strip!
As the old year ends, it is a time for quiet reflection. A time to remember the good times, and to try to forget those less than perfect times. A time to think about the loss of loved ones, along with the births of precious little ones. A time to put the year and things of it away, with anticipation of better things to come. A thankfulness for seeing another new year. A overwhelming sadness over the thought of friends who may not see another new year due to illness.
As we look toward 2012, we have many dreams, hopes, and goals. Within the coming days, resolutions will be made. There is much work to do. Much weight to lose. Much
youth to recapture. We all have our individual plans that will make 2012 our best year ever!
The coming year will hold many new beginnings for our family. If the Lord wills, Colton will graduate from high school in May. What a blessing he has been in our lives, and we eagerly await the big plans God has in store for him. I will be 48 in 2012, and will be reuniting with my classmates of 1982 for our 30th reunion. WOW! Where has the time gone? Jeff and I will celebrate our 27th anniversary. Again, it just does not seem possible. As a youngster, TIME dragged by at such a snail's pace; but now, it seems to be passing much too quickly!
I wish for all of you a wonderful 2012. May God's riches blessings fill your lives in the coming days. My decision to "blog" has indeed been a highlight of 2011. I hope to continue to write it in the coming years. It is my prayer that some of the thoughts here will inspire, comfort or help you in some small way.
God Bless -- in 2012, and always--
Darlene
Katie, Colton, Conner & Jeff
My soul mate, Jeff, and Katie, Colton and Conner, the three gifts from God that call me "Mom"
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Vote for Colton's Essay!!
Colton edited his personal statement for a college essay contest for a potential scholarship! Votes are greatly appreciated! Thanks!!
http://www.wyzant.com/scholarships/v2/essay14489-Hendersonville-TN.aspx
http://www.wyzant.com/scholarships/v2/essay14489-Hendersonville-TN.aspx
A "Light Bulb" Moment
As a teacher, I always enjoy witnessing "light bulb" moments! You know--those moments when after timeless explanations or teachings, the light bulb finally comes on! You see it in a student's face! The light comes on it their eyes! You realize they finally "get it"!
As an adult, I've always been a little sad that those types of moments come very rarely. As we mature, so much of life has been experienced. We settle into a routine, and even a rut. Our thinking sometimes seems to narrow, and we simply daily live the "teaching old dogs new tricks" cliche.
In this blog, I write much about my children. They are my life, and have been for the past twenty one years. As I see our roles changing more as they are now growing into young adulthood, I am beginning to learn much from them. I find that very refreshing and renewing!
I have been noticeably absent from my blog for the past several weeks, and much of that has been because of spending time with Colton, my high school senior. College visits, baseball tryouts, football games, and long talks. I am relishing every moment of this time because I know that it is slowly changing, and our relationship is changing as well.
A few weeks ago, he asked me to type out his "personal statement" needed for an English class. I was not familiar with what a personal statement even was. (I am reminded also daily that I am old. I took the ACT test one time. I sent one college application in. I went to that one college, and so on!) Colton explained to me that colleges and universities today want a sense of "who" the student is. What his goals are? What life events have shaped him into the person he has become today? Colton's English teacher was helping the class formulate these to accompany their college resumes and applications.
As I began typing the page for him, a proverbial "light bulb" began to flicker in my mind. The words being formed from the letters I hit on the keyboard answered questions long unanswered in my own mind. Questions that I didn't think could be answered in this life. Questions that I was too timid to ask. Feelings of anger at God that I would not voice.
The words Colton had written dealt with his feelings for Katie. His feelings of sadness over a little girl's disability. His feelings of anger, early on, at a God that would let this happen to a child. His feelings of guilt--wondering if her disability was his fault. All of these feelings had never been mentioned to me--his mother--during his lifetime. He had kept the feelings inside, and eventually answered them himself. The feelings, and the love he has had for Katie, have molded him into the young man he has become at age seventeen.
My "light bulb" moment came at the realization that we may have been given the gift of a special needs child simply because of the extremely vital way Katie has molded Colton. She has given him a sense of compassion and understanding that most teenage boys do not have. She has given him a sense of unconditional love that he would not have known had he not had her for a sister. She has molded him and influenced him more than any other person on this earth.
Katie has always touched anyone with whom she came in contact. But not in this way. Not in the sense that she has with Colton.
In the past few weeks since that time, the "light bulb" has grown brighter. Colton has spoken in school devotional about Katie. He has written a college essay about her. He has openly talked about how important she is in his life, and how he would not change anything about her--even if he could. He has called her "his Katie," and as a mother, it blesses my heart.
So, all the "what ifs" and "if onlys" I have had in the corners of my mind all these years are gone now. The light is on, and I am understanding some things I thought I might never in this life. God's "big picture" has involved more than my just wanting or needing a healthy daughter. A normal daughter. A cheerleader or beauty queen daughter. God's big plan has involved sending a little girl to our family that would shape, mold and develop the character of her brother.
Here is Colton's personal statement:
My earliest memories involve my older sister, Katie. Four years my senior, Katie
never was the typical big sister. Katie was born with cerebral palsy and mental
retardation. In my early years, we reached developmental milestones together. We
learned to crawl together—me on my knees and Katie on her bottom. We learned to
walk together—me on my legs and Katie on her walker. Katie has never learned to talk,
but my mother says I talk enough for both of us.
Growing up in a house with an individual with special needs is not a “normal”
childhood. The majority of our lives revolved around whatever Katie could do;
whatever Katie would not tolerate; whatever we could manage as a family. As a child,
I was confused by Katie. I used to be embarrassed when people stared at her. I recoiled
if she had an outburst in public. I used to wonder why God let this happen to her.
Was it the result of something she had done? Was it the result of something my parents
had done? Was it my fault?
As I got older, I began to see a strength in Katie that no one else had. She had severe
challenges that might make most people bitter or resentful. But not Katie. She had a
determination to walk even though doctors said she would not. She wore the painful
braces needed to straighten her little legs, and she smiled through the pain. She didn’t
seem to mind if people stared at her or made fun of her funny noises. I got in more than
one fight defending my sister to my peers who had no idea how their mean comments cut
me to my core.
One of Katie’s favorite pastimes has always been watching me play baseball. Playing
baseball has been my passion all of my life, and I’ve played it a lot. Katie has always
been my biggest fan! She would sit in the hot sunshine all day watching me. She would
laugh and smile when I would hit the ball. She would watch quietly when I was on the
mound. She traveled with my family to watch me play ball throughout the country. In
her own way, I knew she was proud of me, and I loved playing for her. I still do today.
Throughout the years, I have come to realize that Katie has strengthened me in many
ways. She has taught me patience and compassion. She has taught me unconditional
love regardless of circumstance. She has strengthened my faith in God because I know
one day He will make her perfect for all eternity.
I feel blessed to have Katie Sweet as my big sister. I would like to attend your
university to further my dream of playing baseball at the college level and pursuing a
degree in Sports Management or Sports Broadcasting. I have Katie’s
determination to reach my own goals, and hard work does not intimidate me. I believe
what sets me apart from other applicants is that I know what I want to do—and I’m not
afraid of the hard work and sacrifice it may take. I’ve had a life-long example of
overcoming challenges through hard work and determination in my sister, Katie! Now
it’s time for her brother to follow that example, and I’m eager to begin this new chapter
in my life!
Why did I ever question it? Thank God for "light bulb" moments--even for old dogs!
As an adult, I've always been a little sad that those types of moments come very rarely. As we mature, so much of life has been experienced. We settle into a routine, and even a rut. Our thinking sometimes seems to narrow, and we simply daily live the "teaching old dogs new tricks" cliche.
In this blog, I write much about my children. They are my life, and have been for the past twenty one years. As I see our roles changing more as they are now growing into young adulthood, I am beginning to learn much from them. I find that very refreshing and renewing!
I have been noticeably absent from my blog for the past several weeks, and much of that has been because of spending time with Colton, my high school senior. College visits, baseball tryouts, football games, and long talks. I am relishing every moment of this time because I know that it is slowly changing, and our relationship is changing as well.
A few weeks ago, he asked me to type out his "personal statement" needed for an English class. I was not familiar with what a personal statement even was. (I am reminded also daily that I am old. I took the ACT test one time. I sent one college application in. I went to that one college, and so on!) Colton explained to me that colleges and universities today want a sense of "who" the student is. What his goals are? What life events have shaped him into the person he has become today? Colton's English teacher was helping the class formulate these to accompany their college resumes and applications.
As I began typing the page for him, a proverbial "light bulb" began to flicker in my mind. The words being formed from the letters I hit on the keyboard answered questions long unanswered in my own mind. Questions that I didn't think could be answered in this life. Questions that I was too timid to ask. Feelings of anger at God that I would not voice.
The words Colton had written dealt with his feelings for Katie. His feelings of sadness over a little girl's disability. His feelings of anger, early on, at a God that would let this happen to a child. His feelings of guilt--wondering if her disability was his fault. All of these feelings had never been mentioned to me--his mother--during his lifetime. He had kept the feelings inside, and eventually answered them himself. The feelings, and the love he has had for Katie, have molded him into the young man he has become at age seventeen.
My "light bulb" moment came at the realization that we may have been given the gift of a special needs child simply because of the extremely vital way Katie has molded Colton. She has given him a sense of compassion and understanding that most teenage boys do not have. She has given him a sense of unconditional love that he would not have known had he not had her for a sister. She has molded him and influenced him more than any other person on this earth.
Katie has always touched anyone with whom she came in contact. But not in this way. Not in the sense that she has with Colton.
In the past few weeks since that time, the "light bulb" has grown brighter. Colton has spoken in school devotional about Katie. He has written a college essay about her. He has openly talked about how important she is in his life, and how he would not change anything about her--even if he could. He has called her "his Katie," and as a mother, it blesses my heart.
So, all the "what ifs" and "if onlys" I have had in the corners of my mind all these years are gone now. The light is on, and I am understanding some things I thought I might never in this life. God's "big picture" has involved more than my just wanting or needing a healthy daughter. A normal daughter. A cheerleader or beauty queen daughter. God's big plan has involved sending a little girl to our family that would shape, mold and develop the character of her brother.
Here is Colton's personal statement:
My earliest memories involve my older sister, Katie. Four years my senior, Katie
never was the typical big sister. Katie was born with cerebral palsy and mental
retardation. In my early years, we reached developmental milestones together. We
learned to crawl together—me on my knees and Katie on her bottom. We learned to
walk together—me on my legs and Katie on her walker. Katie has never learned to talk,
but my mother says I talk enough for both of us.
Growing up in a house with an individual with special needs is not a “normal”
childhood. The majority of our lives revolved around whatever Katie could do;
whatever Katie would not tolerate; whatever we could manage as a family. As a child,
I was confused by Katie. I used to be embarrassed when people stared at her. I recoiled
if she had an outburst in public. I used to wonder why God let this happen to her.
Was it the result of something she had done? Was it the result of something my parents
had done? Was it my fault?
As I got older, I began to see a strength in Katie that no one else had. She had severe
challenges that might make most people bitter or resentful. But not Katie. She had a
determination to walk even though doctors said she would not. She wore the painful
braces needed to straighten her little legs, and she smiled through the pain. She didn’t
seem to mind if people stared at her or made fun of her funny noises. I got in more than
one fight defending my sister to my peers who had no idea how their mean comments cut
me to my core.
One of Katie’s favorite pastimes has always been watching me play baseball. Playing
baseball has been my passion all of my life, and I’ve played it a lot. Katie has always
been my biggest fan! She would sit in the hot sunshine all day watching me. She would
laugh and smile when I would hit the ball. She would watch quietly when I was on the
mound. She traveled with my family to watch me play ball throughout the country. In
her own way, I knew she was proud of me, and I loved playing for her. I still do today.
Throughout the years, I have come to realize that Katie has strengthened me in many
ways. She has taught me patience and compassion. She has taught me unconditional
love regardless of circumstance. She has strengthened my faith in God because I know
one day He will make her perfect for all eternity.
I feel blessed to have Katie Sweet as my big sister. I would like to attend your
university to further my dream of playing baseball at the college level and pursuing a
degree in Sports Management or Sports Broadcasting. I have Katie’s
determination to reach my own goals, and hard work does not intimidate me. I believe
what sets me apart from other applicants is that I know what I want to do—and I’m not
afraid of the hard work and sacrifice it may take. I’ve had a life-long example of
overcoming challenges through hard work and determination in my sister, Katie! Now
it’s time for her brother to follow that example, and I’m eager to begin this new chapter
in my life!
Why did I ever question it? Thank God for "light bulb" moments--even for old dogs!
Friday, July 15, 2011
Monday, May 30, 2011
Memorial Day -- Meanings and Memories
As we as a country celebrate this day, we all have different thoughts of what today really means. Memorial Day is the unofficial holiday that kicks off summer! Days of sunshine filled with laughter; weekends at the lake; lemonade stands on the corner; jars of lightning bugs at dusk. Today is a day for hot dogs and ribs on the grill and relaxing with family and friends.
But in reality, Memorial Day has little to do with Kingsford Edge charcoal or mustard potato salad. It has everything to do with sacrifice and selflessness. It should serve as a reminder to all Americans that there was a price paid for our freedom, and there continues to be a price paid to keep it.
Memorial Day for me is a reminder of my father in law, E.L. Sweet. He began serving in the Army at age 18, and he later re-enlisted for a second stint in the Air Force. He felt that it was his duty to serve his country, and he did so with much pride. He left for boot camp a young man full of life and vigor. He returned a man changed forever. He returned a man with memories that would haunt him for the next sixty years. He returned a man proud of his country, but tortured by part of a bullet that could not be removed from his ankle. He returned a man whose mental stability would be forever compromised by the things he had witnessed in war. He remained a man who loved this country and everything for which it stood.
I am reminded of my dad's cousin, who I affectionately called "Uncle T." Uncle T served with General Patton and was wounded several times. His mother died while he was overseas, but he continued to serve proudly through his grief. I am proud of the two purple hearts his wife gave me after his death, and I cherish those as part of his memory.
I am reminded of my Uncle Bobby who served in the Navy. As a little girl, I didn't understand that he was serving in an important part of this country's history. I remember how handsome I thought he looked in his white sailor uniform. I loved all the brass buttons and medals on it! I also loved the dolls he sent me from Vietnam, Korea and other parts of Asia. Today, as I look at those same dolls, I know the important part he played there.
I am reminded of a sweet, little, curly-haired boy named Ryan. His mother, Monika, is a dear friend, and I remember Ryan climbing in her lap as a toddler. In recent years, Ryan served in this country's conflicts fighting terror. Ryan served us well. He protected us from an unknown enemy. Ryan's body now rests in Arlington, and all who loved him grieve the loss of a young man who was so full of life and possibilities. Ryan loved this country, and now he rests with thousands of others who also paid the ultimate sacrifice for it.
As this day comes to a close, I pray for the men and women who continue to serve for our freedom. My freedom. My children's freedom. Your freedom. I pray for their families, who also sacrifice for that freedom. Freedom comes with a price. For some it is the ultimate sacrifice of death. For others, it is debilitating injury or psychological issues. I am thankful for their willingness to serve for me.
I also pray for God's blessings on our men and women in service; for their families; for their children; and for this county.
But in reality, Memorial Day has little to do with Kingsford Edge charcoal or mustard potato salad. It has everything to do with sacrifice and selflessness. It should serve as a reminder to all Americans that there was a price paid for our freedom, and there continues to be a price paid to keep it.
Memorial Day for me is a reminder of my father in law, E.L. Sweet. He began serving in the Army at age 18, and he later re-enlisted for a second stint in the Air Force. He felt that it was his duty to serve his country, and he did so with much pride. He left for boot camp a young man full of life and vigor. He returned a man changed forever. He returned a man with memories that would haunt him for the next sixty years. He returned a man proud of his country, but tortured by part of a bullet that could not be removed from his ankle. He returned a man whose mental stability would be forever compromised by the things he had witnessed in war. He remained a man who loved this country and everything for which it stood.
I am reminded of my dad's cousin, who I affectionately called "Uncle T." Uncle T served with General Patton and was wounded several times. His mother died while he was overseas, but he continued to serve proudly through his grief. I am proud of the two purple hearts his wife gave me after his death, and I cherish those as part of his memory.
I am reminded of my Uncle Bobby who served in the Navy. As a little girl, I didn't understand that he was serving in an important part of this country's history. I remember how handsome I thought he looked in his white sailor uniform. I loved all the brass buttons and medals on it! I also loved the dolls he sent me from Vietnam, Korea and other parts of Asia. Today, as I look at those same dolls, I know the important part he played there.
I am reminded of a sweet, little, curly-haired boy named Ryan. His mother, Monika, is a dear friend, and I remember Ryan climbing in her lap as a toddler. In recent years, Ryan served in this country's conflicts fighting terror. Ryan served us well. He protected us from an unknown enemy. Ryan's body now rests in Arlington, and all who loved him grieve the loss of a young man who was so full of life and possibilities. Ryan loved this country, and now he rests with thousands of others who also paid the ultimate sacrifice for it.
As this day comes to a close, I pray for the men and women who continue to serve for our freedom. My freedom. My children's freedom. Your freedom. I pray for their families, who also sacrifice for that freedom. Freedom comes with a price. For some it is the ultimate sacrifice of death. For others, it is debilitating injury or psychological issues. I am thankful for their willingness to serve for me.
I also pray for God's blessings on our men and women in service; for their families; for their children; and for this county.
Friday, May 6, 2011
A Mother's Love
When my mother suffered a massive stroke in 2006, I quickly realized that my life was forever changed. The one person on whom I had always relied; the best friend who had always stood beside me; my biggest cheerleader and fan; and the one person who could come down on me the hardest--was slipping away. Although her body was quickly deteriorating, her mind was sharp. God gave me a wonderful gift of five weeks to sit together, talk, think back on old times, cry together, and to say goodbye. One day in the nursing facility, one of the workers commented that I looked like my mother. I had never seen that. My mother was a fair skin, auburn haired, petite framed China doll in my eyes. I had dark hair and dark skin with larger frame, and looked more the rag-doll type. The attendant went on to comment that a mother's love was the closest we can get to God's love in this life. Those words rang in my ears in the days to come, and I still feel they are some of the truest I've ever heard.
I was blessed to have a Godly mother that, I believe, instilled in me the basics of right and wrong. She taught me from a servant's heart, and she taught me how to love my husband, my children, my friends, and even those not so dear to my heart. Godly mothers are indeed a gift of God, and on this Mother's Day, I thank Him for mine. I pray that I can be half the mother to my children that my mother was to me. As I watched my mother transition from this life to the next, I realized what God had really done for me when chose Mary Carvell Coleman to be MY mother!
I was also blessed to have a wonderful mother-in-law. Jeff's mom, Hazel Sweet, was a little dynamo! Although not very big in size, "Mom" always had a heart the size of Texas. She could outwork, out-cook, and outwit most of us easily! As we dealt with her later years and her battle with Alzheimer's, I continually was thankful that God put her in my life. Her life was not always happy, but she lived it with integrity and a dependence upon the Lord. Her life was filled with times and events that were very difficult. Times and events when many would have possibly given up on life and God. As we watched "Mom" make that same transition into eternity last year, I was blessed to see what a gift God gave me in letting me be part of that "Sweet" family in North Carolina. And I am also blessed to know that she is with my mother, and that heaven is a brighter (and funnier!) place with them there!
Over the past week, I have watched another important woman in my life make that transition. My sweet Aunt Barbara battled Alzheimer's beginning in her mid-60s. As my mother's baby sister, Barbara Jean (all good Southern women have double names!) was a huge part of my entire life. Her love of singing and genuine laughter will always be wonderful memories for me. During her final days, God gave her a renewed clarity of mind, and we were able to have talks--real talks--like we had not in several years due to her dementia. I must admit that as I said goodbye to her for the last time in this life the other night, I was hit with a little envy because I knew she would be with my mother, my grandmother, my mother-in-law--soon. And now she is. What a blessing!
Music has always been such a special part of my life. Certain songs "speak" to me, and there is a new country song out that has more liked "screamed" at me recently. The title of the song is "If Heaven Wasn't So Far Away." Some of the lyrics are:
If heaven wasn't so far away
I'd pack up the kids and go for the day
Introduce them to their grandpa
Watch 'em laugh at the way he talks
I'd find my long lost cousin John
The one we left back in Vietnam
Show him a picture of his daughter now
She's a doctor and he'd be proud
Then tell him we'd be back in a couple of days
In the rear view mirror we'd all watch 'em wave
Yeah, and losing them wouldn't be so hard to take
If heaven wasn't so far away.
Yes, it would be nice to sit on a cloud and talk for a while, wouldn't it? If Heaven wasn't so far away--well, someday it won't be. For those of us who have lost those wonderful women in our lives, that day of reunion is something for which we all aspire--one of these days!
God has blessed my life beyond belief with three absolutely beautiful children. My boys are my rocks--rough and tough! Colton and Conner are the best boys I could ever want. In Katie, God gave me an angel right here on earth. Raising a child with special needs can be challenging, but the rewards of having Katie have far outweighed the problems. Katie has never spoken a word. I've never heard her say, "Mama" or "I love you." But I know those things without words. I see it in her smile. I hear it in her laughter. I feel it (literally) when Katie, now 20, still climbs up on my lap to be rocked. God gave me Katie for a purpose--His purpose. There are days when I'm still not sure what that purpose is, but I know He knows it. That's all that really matters. God made Katie so special, and I have been blessed that He gave her to me!
God also blessed my life with a fourth child. A child I never held; a child I never got to watch grow up; a child who, for whatever reason, never lived outside of my body here on earth. A child who died before I knew him in 2000. But this is still a child that I love dearly. My child that is waiting for me in Heaven, and my sweet baby that I will one day meet.
Through my life, I've had wonderful friends and family who have lost their own children to death--much too early. Young lives taken away in the prime of youth. Yet, I've seen in these mothers a remarkable faith--in sometimes just getting up and putting one foot in front of the other to get through another day. I've had precious friends whose hearts have broken as their children have turned their backs on them, or have chosen the wrong paths in life. I've had friends and family who were not blessed with a wonderful mother, but I truly believe God has put others in their lives that have filled that void. I've known wonderful women who were never blessed with children, but who took an earnest interest in the lives of other young people, and by whom many lives were touched in such powerful ways.
This Mother's Day, thank God for those women He has put in your life--whether it be your mother, mother-in-law, daughter, or friend. If you are still blessed to have your mother here on earth, take an extra moment to smile with her; hold her hand; cherish her. Be proud when someone tells you that your remind them of your mom. I know I surely am! If you have lost your earthly mother, take confidence in knowing that Heaven is all the sweeter with her in it, and one day, Heaven won't be so far way. You can know with certainty that you will be with her again--this time, for eternity. If you are a mother, cherish those special times with your children. Children are such a blessing--lent to us as parents, for only a short while.
A mother's love indeed may be the closest we can get to God's love in this life. Let's all try to love, not only our children, or our mothers or friends, but everyone in our lives, with that type of love.
I wish for all of you a wonderful Mother's Day 2011!
I was blessed to have a Godly mother that, I believe, instilled in me the basics of right and wrong. She taught me from a servant's heart, and she taught me how to love my husband, my children, my friends, and even those not so dear to my heart. Godly mothers are indeed a gift of God, and on this Mother's Day, I thank Him for mine. I pray that I can be half the mother to my children that my mother was to me. As I watched my mother transition from this life to the next, I realized what God had really done for me when chose Mary Carvell Coleman to be MY mother!
I was also blessed to have a wonderful mother-in-law. Jeff's mom, Hazel Sweet, was a little dynamo! Although not very big in size, "Mom" always had a heart the size of Texas. She could outwork, out-cook, and outwit most of us easily! As we dealt with her later years and her battle with Alzheimer's, I continually was thankful that God put her in my life. Her life was not always happy, but she lived it with integrity and a dependence upon the Lord. Her life was filled with times and events that were very difficult. Times and events when many would have possibly given up on life and God. As we watched "Mom" make that same transition into eternity last year, I was blessed to see what a gift God gave me in letting me be part of that "Sweet" family in North Carolina. And I am also blessed to know that she is with my mother, and that heaven is a brighter (and funnier!) place with them there!
Over the past week, I have watched another important woman in my life make that transition. My sweet Aunt Barbara battled Alzheimer's beginning in her mid-60s. As my mother's baby sister, Barbara Jean (all good Southern women have double names!) was a huge part of my entire life. Her love of singing and genuine laughter will always be wonderful memories for me. During her final days, God gave her a renewed clarity of mind, and we were able to have talks--real talks--like we had not in several years due to her dementia. I must admit that as I said goodbye to her for the last time in this life the other night, I was hit with a little envy because I knew she would be with my mother, my grandmother, my mother-in-law--soon. And now she is. What a blessing!
Music has always been such a special part of my life. Certain songs "speak" to me, and there is a new country song out that has more liked "screamed" at me recently. The title of the song is "If Heaven Wasn't So Far Away." Some of the lyrics are:
If heaven wasn't so far away
I'd pack up the kids and go for the day
Introduce them to their grandpa
Watch 'em laugh at the way he talks
I'd find my long lost cousin John
The one we left back in Vietnam
Show him a picture of his daughter now
She's a doctor and he'd be proud
Then tell him we'd be back in a couple of days
In the rear view mirror we'd all watch 'em wave
Yeah, and losing them wouldn't be so hard to take
If heaven wasn't so far away.
Yes, it would be nice to sit on a cloud and talk for a while, wouldn't it? If Heaven wasn't so far away--well, someday it won't be. For those of us who have lost those wonderful women in our lives, that day of reunion is something for which we all aspire--one of these days!
God has blessed my life beyond belief with three absolutely beautiful children. My boys are my rocks--rough and tough! Colton and Conner are the best boys I could ever want. In Katie, God gave me an angel right here on earth. Raising a child with special needs can be challenging, but the rewards of having Katie have far outweighed the problems. Katie has never spoken a word. I've never heard her say, "Mama" or "I love you." But I know those things without words. I see it in her smile. I hear it in her laughter. I feel it (literally) when Katie, now 20, still climbs up on my lap to be rocked. God gave me Katie for a purpose--His purpose. There are days when I'm still not sure what that purpose is, but I know He knows it. That's all that really matters. God made Katie so special, and I have been blessed that He gave her to me!
God also blessed my life with a fourth child. A child I never held; a child I never got to watch grow up; a child who, for whatever reason, never lived outside of my body here on earth. A child who died before I knew him in 2000. But this is still a child that I love dearly. My child that is waiting for me in Heaven, and my sweet baby that I will one day meet.
Through my life, I've had wonderful friends and family who have lost their own children to death--much too early. Young lives taken away in the prime of youth. Yet, I've seen in these mothers a remarkable faith--in sometimes just getting up and putting one foot in front of the other to get through another day. I've had precious friends whose hearts have broken as their children have turned their backs on them, or have chosen the wrong paths in life. I've had friends and family who were not blessed with a wonderful mother, but I truly believe God has put others in their lives that have filled that void. I've known wonderful women who were never blessed with children, but who took an earnest interest in the lives of other young people, and by whom many lives were touched in such powerful ways.
This Mother's Day, thank God for those women He has put in your life--whether it be your mother, mother-in-law, daughter, or friend. If you are still blessed to have your mother here on earth, take an extra moment to smile with her; hold her hand; cherish her. Be proud when someone tells you that your remind them of your mom. I know I surely am! If you have lost your earthly mother, take confidence in knowing that Heaven is all the sweeter with her in it, and one day, Heaven won't be so far way. You can know with certainty that you will be with her again--this time, for eternity. If you are a mother, cherish those special times with your children. Children are such a blessing--lent to us as parents, for only a short while.
A mother's love indeed may be the closest we can get to God's love in this life. Let's all try to love, not only our children, or our mothers or friends, but everyone in our lives, with that type of love.
I wish for all of you a wonderful Mother's Day 2011!
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Reflections
The events of the past few days have changed lives--and possibly our world--forever. The deadly tornadoes throughout the south have devastated families; destroyed dreams; and debilitated entire communities. The disaster is unparalleled by anything in my recent memory in the southeast possibly since Hurricane Katrina. I cannot imagine the feelings of those impacted directly by this devastation. The overwhelming sense of loss, coupled with a strong determination to "get back up," is shown time and time again in such circumstances.
I think back to the flooding in our home of Nashville, Tennessee in 2010, and the concern that I have now for the continual rain we are having at this time. The rivers are rising, and many are coming out of their banks. Throughout the country, nature seems to be taking a revenge for some unknown reason. Throughout the world, storms, earthquakes, floods wreak havoc as man stands helpless--overall unable to intervene.
The news of Bin Laden's death has been one of mixed emotions--publicly and privately. A nation still grieving the loss of so many on 9/11 may have found a bit of closure in the death of the mastermind of that day of terror. The weights on the hearts of families who lost loved ones on that fateful day may be somewhat lighter. The open celebrations and chanting in the streets show a country that is relieved and joyful that part of the nightmare is over. But is it? Will his death enrage other extremists to do more violence against our country? Will the publicity over another country's involvement in sheltering the man lead to another war for our troops? Will our fears truly ever be put to rest?
Evil is alive and well in our country, and it will not end with the death of one man. In President Obama's statement earlier this week, he stated that we are a "nation under God." That comment is rarely made these days. On a recent trip to Washington, I was made aware of the fact--not supposition--but fact--that this country was founded on godly ideals and morals. The United States was born as a result of people wanting to worship--needing to worship--God. It was a young land based on the belief of trust in God. It was a new world of hope and dreams based on godly principles.
But now it is politically incorrect to speak of those foundations. We separate our religious views and beliefs form our secular ones. We tell our children that prayer is not allowed in the school room. We tell them that they are not allowed to speak of God in a locker room before a football game. We tell them that it is fine for them to believe, but just keep it to themselves.
This political correctness has allowed evil to take a foothold in our country. I think God is ashamed of His children here because we have not taken a stronger stand against this evil. I don't know what the answers are, but I know the questions. What is it going to take for America to return to God? What can we do as Christians to help? What are our children going to face in their lives because of the complacency of our generation? In what kind of world will my grandchildren and great-grandchildren live?
I don't necessarily believe that all disasters like earthquakes or a tornado outbreak is God's wrath on His children. I do believe though that such things show His power, and can--or maybe should--serve as a wake-up call that WE--as individuals; as families; as schools; as churches; as a nation--NEED HIM. As we honor a day of prayer later this week in our nation, we all need to fall on our knees and beg God to have mercy on us as a country. We need to ask him to forgive us--individually and collectively--for not standing strong and publicly as a Christian nation.
We need to pray for faith--even as small as a grain of mustard seed. A faith that will stand through these turbulent times. A faith that will not falter when our world collapses around us. A faith that will not shake in fear at the thought of terrorist acts. A faith to be an example to our children that it is correct to stand up for your beliefs. A faith that will not shatter when the evil of this world hurls its darts your way. A faith that knows the best is not in this world--but in an eternity with God.
I pray this for our country; for my family; for my friends; for my church; and for myself.
I think back to the flooding in our home of Nashville, Tennessee in 2010, and the concern that I have now for the continual rain we are having at this time. The rivers are rising, and many are coming out of their banks. Throughout the country, nature seems to be taking a revenge for some unknown reason. Throughout the world, storms, earthquakes, floods wreak havoc as man stands helpless--overall unable to intervene.
The news of Bin Laden's death has been one of mixed emotions--publicly and privately. A nation still grieving the loss of so many on 9/11 may have found a bit of closure in the death of the mastermind of that day of terror. The weights on the hearts of families who lost loved ones on that fateful day may be somewhat lighter. The open celebrations and chanting in the streets show a country that is relieved and joyful that part of the nightmare is over. But is it? Will his death enrage other extremists to do more violence against our country? Will the publicity over another country's involvement in sheltering the man lead to another war for our troops? Will our fears truly ever be put to rest?
Evil is alive and well in our country, and it will not end with the death of one man. In President Obama's statement earlier this week, he stated that we are a "nation under God." That comment is rarely made these days. On a recent trip to Washington, I was made aware of the fact--not supposition--but fact--that this country was founded on godly ideals and morals. The United States was born as a result of people wanting to worship--needing to worship--God. It was a young land based on the belief of trust in God. It was a new world of hope and dreams based on godly principles.
But now it is politically incorrect to speak of those foundations. We separate our religious views and beliefs form our secular ones. We tell our children that prayer is not allowed in the school room. We tell them that they are not allowed to speak of God in a locker room before a football game. We tell them that it is fine for them to believe, but just keep it to themselves.
This political correctness has allowed evil to take a foothold in our country. I think God is ashamed of His children here because we have not taken a stronger stand against this evil. I don't know what the answers are, but I know the questions. What is it going to take for America to return to God? What can we do as Christians to help? What are our children going to face in their lives because of the complacency of our generation? In what kind of world will my grandchildren and great-grandchildren live?
I don't necessarily believe that all disasters like earthquakes or a tornado outbreak is God's wrath on His children. I do believe though that such things show His power, and can--or maybe should--serve as a wake-up call that WE--as individuals; as families; as schools; as churches; as a nation--NEED HIM. As we honor a day of prayer later this week in our nation, we all need to fall on our knees and beg God to have mercy on us as a country. We need to ask him to forgive us--individually and collectively--for not standing strong and publicly as a Christian nation.
We need to pray for faith--even as small as a grain of mustard seed. A faith that will stand through these turbulent times. A faith that will not falter when our world collapses around us. A faith that will not shake in fear at the thought of terrorist acts. A faith to be an example to our children that it is correct to stand up for your beliefs. A faith that will not shatter when the evil of this world hurls its darts your way. A faith that knows the best is not in this world--but in an eternity with God.
I pray this for our country; for my family; for my friends; for my church; and for myself.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
In My Daughter's Eyes
Several years ago, Martina McBride released a song called "In My Daughter's Eyes." It is a beautiful ballad detailing a mother's love for her daughter. This song immediately hit home with me because of my Katie. There is a special relationship between mothers and daughters. When God blessed me with a little girl in 1990, I never dreamed of the journey that lay ahead. I imagined tea parties, slumber parties, cheerleading try-outs, school dances, and eventually being the mother of the bride. I wanted for her so many of the things I never got to do or achieve in my life.
At first meeting, I knew Katie was going to be gorgeous. She was one of the most beautiful babies I had ever seen--and not just because she was mine. Blonde hair, olive skin and deep green eyes. (My daddy's eyes!) I could already see her being crowned homecoming queen! Everyone who saw her commented on how pretty she was!
God's plan for Katie was quite different that my visions for her future, and it's taken twenty years for my acceptance (I think I'm there!) of that plan. When Katie was diagnosed in 1993 with cerebral palsy and mental retardation, I think I grieved for many years. I think Jeff threw himself into his work thinking money could "fix" the situation. I think eventually we both grieved the child that we lost--the child that would have been captain of the cheer squad or president of her class; the child that would have held tea parties with her teddy bears or slumber parties with her friends; the child that would have had long heart to heart talks with her mom and that would have eventuallly walked down the aisle with her dad. Our grief over the child that we did not have far exceeded the joy that we had for the child that we did have. It was like this for many years.
But in God's plan, Katie changed our lives. Katie changed the lives of everyone with whom she came in contact. Everyone touched by Katie was a different person because of the connection to her, and it has continued this way for twenty years now.
Almost a year ago, Katie moved to a group home a few miles from our house. This was a tremendous challenge for all of us--except Katie. After an initial week or so of transitioning, Katie was fine. She was the center of a new universe--with new friends--just like herself. No longer was she the "different" person in the crowd. This was a shock to us to see that she really could be happy away from us. We always thought she would be at home with us for as long as we lived. God put the right people in our lives at just the right times. We were shown that what may have been best for us, was not necessarily best for Katie.
So now at twenty, Katie is living a constant slumber party with new friends and a new home. She is giggling with friends, and she is loving her life. She goes to the movies and to restaurants. She goes shopping. When she comes home to visit, she is glad to be here. She is glad to see us, and she hugs and loves us. After a while, she is ready to go back to her new home. She has grown up--something I never thought she would do. Although her life is not as I had planned it, it is as God planned it. She is happy. We are happy. Life is good.
And when I hear Martina's song--I cry. I know that I see so many things in Katie's eyes--things I never dreamed! God's plan was the right plan--for us, and for Katie. Even though I will never have a "normal" relationship with my daughter in this life, it is alright. I am assured that I will spend eternity with her because we are God's children above all.
So when I see Katie, I know God gave us a miracle. She was sent to rescue me. She sees no inequality because of social status or skin color in this world. She sees only peace. She trusts that things will be okay. She gives me strength when I don't think I can go forward. She gives me reason to hang on a little longer. She has made me happier than I ever imagined. I see who I want to be--in my daughter's eyes.
"In My Daughter's Eyes" Lyrics
In my daughter's eyes, I am a hero.
I am strong an' wise,
And I know no fear.
But the truth is plain to see:
She was sent to rescue me,
I see who I wanna be, in my daughter's eyes.
In my daughter's eyes, everyone is equal,
Darkness turns to light,
And the world is at peace.
This miracle God gave to me,
Gives me strength when I am weak.
I find reason to believe, in my daughter's eyes.
An' when she wraps her hand around my finger,
Oh, it puts a smile in my heart.
Everything becomes a little clearer.
I realize what life is all about.
It's hangin' on when your heart has had enough;
It's givin' more when you feel like givin' up.
I've seen the light: it's in my daughter's eyes.
In my daughter's eyes, I can see the future.
A reflection of who I am,
An' what will be.
An' though she'll grow an', some day, leave:
Maybe raise a family,
When I'm gone, I hope you'll see,
How happy she made me,
For I'll be there, in my daughter's eyes.
At first meeting, I knew Katie was going to be gorgeous. She was one of the most beautiful babies I had ever seen--and not just because she was mine. Blonde hair, olive skin and deep green eyes. (My daddy's eyes!) I could already see her being crowned homecoming queen! Everyone who saw her commented on how pretty she was!
God's plan for Katie was quite different that my visions for her future, and it's taken twenty years for my acceptance (I think I'm there!) of that plan. When Katie was diagnosed in 1993 with cerebral palsy and mental retardation, I think I grieved for many years. I think Jeff threw himself into his work thinking money could "fix" the situation. I think eventually we both grieved the child that we lost--the child that would have been captain of the cheer squad or president of her class; the child that would have held tea parties with her teddy bears or slumber parties with her friends; the child that would have had long heart to heart talks with her mom and that would have eventuallly walked down the aisle with her dad. Our grief over the child that we did not have far exceeded the joy that we had for the child that we did have. It was like this for many years.
But in God's plan, Katie changed our lives. Katie changed the lives of everyone with whom she came in contact. Everyone touched by Katie was a different person because of the connection to her, and it has continued this way for twenty years now.
Almost a year ago, Katie moved to a group home a few miles from our house. This was a tremendous challenge for all of us--except Katie. After an initial week or so of transitioning, Katie was fine. She was the center of a new universe--with new friends--just like herself. No longer was she the "different" person in the crowd. This was a shock to us to see that she really could be happy away from us. We always thought she would be at home with us for as long as we lived. God put the right people in our lives at just the right times. We were shown that what may have been best for us, was not necessarily best for Katie.
So now at twenty, Katie is living a constant slumber party with new friends and a new home. She is giggling with friends, and she is loving her life. She goes to the movies and to restaurants. She goes shopping. When she comes home to visit, she is glad to be here. She is glad to see us, and she hugs and loves us. After a while, she is ready to go back to her new home. She has grown up--something I never thought she would do. Although her life is not as I had planned it, it is as God planned it. She is happy. We are happy. Life is good.
And when I hear Martina's song--I cry. I know that I see so many things in Katie's eyes--things I never dreamed! God's plan was the right plan--for us, and for Katie. Even though I will never have a "normal" relationship with my daughter in this life, it is alright. I am assured that I will spend eternity with her because we are God's children above all.
So when I see Katie, I know God gave us a miracle. She was sent to rescue me. She sees no inequality because of social status or skin color in this world. She sees only peace. She trusts that things will be okay. She gives me strength when I don't think I can go forward. She gives me reason to hang on a little longer. She has made me happier than I ever imagined. I see who I want to be--in my daughter's eyes.
"In My Daughter's Eyes" Lyrics
In my daughter's eyes, I am a hero.
I am strong an' wise,
And I know no fear.
But the truth is plain to see:
She was sent to rescue me,
I see who I wanna be, in my daughter's eyes.
In my daughter's eyes, everyone is equal,
Darkness turns to light,
And the world is at peace.
This miracle God gave to me,
Gives me strength when I am weak.
I find reason to believe, in my daughter's eyes.
An' when she wraps her hand around my finger,
Oh, it puts a smile in my heart.
Everything becomes a little clearer.
I realize what life is all about.
It's hangin' on when your heart has had enough;
It's givin' more when you feel like givin' up.
I've seen the light: it's in my daughter's eyes.
In my daughter's eyes, I can see the future.
A reflection of who I am,
An' what will be.
An' though she'll grow an', some day, leave:
Maybe raise a family,
When I'm gone, I hope you'll see,
How happy she made me,
For I'll be there, in my daughter's eyes.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
"Walking Her Home"
In this life, there are some people with whom we come in contact, who influence our lives more than we could ever imagine. Parents, teachers, coaches--we've all had those relationships that truly shape the person we become.
When I decided to become a "Sweet" now almost 26 years ago, I had no idea how much Jeff's family would become "my" family in every way. When I met his HUGE family as a young 19 year old girl, I was overwhelmed by the immediate acceptance and unconditional love shown by his numerous aunts, uncles, cousins, and immediate family.
Two members of his family have served as friends, mentors, and counselors to us throughout those years. Dennis and Terre Conner have had such a tremendous effect on our lives that I wanted to share this. When Jeff and I began dating, all I heard about was Dennis and Terre. Dennis, Jeff's first cousin, was more like Jeff's brother than cousin. Dennis and his wife, Terre, lived in North Carolina, where Dennis was a minister. I remember meeting them and thinking what how their personalities were really different. Dennis, with his quiet, unassuming, but comical ways, and Terre, with her contagious laughter, and unbelievable robust energy and zest for life.
Dennis married us in 1985, and I remember the pre-marital counseling he held with us. His main advice was to love each other, and try to avoid saying "always" and "never". I remember eating dinner with Dennis and Terre and watching their interactions as a young married couple, as well. Their love for each other was so evident from the way they looked at each other to the way they cuddled on the couch. I thought to myself--"Now, that's the way I want our marriage to be!" Through the years, the miles between us limited the time we spent together. Regardless of the miles, Dennis and Terre continued to be a major influence in our lives.
When our youngest son was born, Jeff and I decided his name would be Conner, for Dennis and Terre. (Dennis was insistent that we spell it correctly with an "er" instead of an "or.") Conner turned 14 years old yesterday, and stills says he like the way his name is spelled because it makes him different. (Thanks, Denny!)
Shortly after Conner's birth, Dennis and Terre's life began a path that none of us would have expected. After finding a small lump in her breast, Terre was diagnosed with breast cancer. This battle would last for the next thirteen years with remissions, recurrences, radiation and rejoicing. Battling the disease that wreiked havoc in her lungs; her liver; her brain, Terri underwent so much physically. Experimental drugs; experimental therapies; excruciating pain; excruciating disappointments.
Through all of this Terre never lost her faith. She served as an example of total surrender to God's will in her life. She spoke on many occasions publicly about how the cancer had brought her closer to her Father, and how in many ways it had changed her life for the better. Finally Dennis and Terre decided together that there would be no more treatments; no more harsh drugs; only more time together. More time to look deeply into one another's eyes. More time to say the words that needed to be said. More time to see the places they wanted to see. More time to just be Dennis and Terre--together.
Terre lived the rest of her life on this earth to the fullest--with humility, dignity and trust in God. When God called her home last fall, she was ready. Cancer ravaged her physical body, but it couldn't touch her spirit. As she went to be with the Lord, she celebrated. And although we grieved the physical loss of the person we knew as Terre, we also celebrated that Terre's spirit was now with the Lord.
Dennis was always the perfect example of a Godly husband, and no more so that in Terre's illness. For many years, he rode the medical rollercoaster right along side of her--with all the ups and downs that went along with the disease. He wrote almost daily updates on a website by which his faith and love for God--and Terre--was evidenced in each word. His words showed a man whose physical heart was breaking as he watched the love of his life suffering. His words showed a man whose spirit never questioned--"Why me? Why us? Why Terre?" His words showed a man who knew God's plan was much bigger than his understanding of it.
As Dennis prepared for Terre's "homecoming," as he called it, there was of course grief. But that grief was accompanied by the knowledge that physical death is not the end--it is just the beginning. At Terre's celebration service in Raleigh, Dennis spoke of his precious bride, and their journey together. Another speaker spoke of Dennis, and how he had witnessed Dennis "walking Terre home." We had all witnessed this, and what a blessing it had been--and continues to be--in our lives.
A friend wrote these words in a song in honor of Dennis' relationship with our sweet Terre:
“WALKING HER HOME”
I remember seeing you after school one day.
You were standing outside all alone
And I began a new path with that question I asked,
“Oh, may I walk you all the way home?
I’d like to walk with you all the way home.”
Your Father was waiting at the door for you
And had that ‘Glad to see you’ smile painted on.
And he said to me as I turned to leave,
“Thank you for walking my daughter back home.
Thank you for walking her all the way home.”
And we kept walking many miles
To the church and down the aisle,
Oh, step by step through the sunshine and the rain.
And we kept walking hand in hand
Making memories, making plans,
Oh, but no could have planned for the pain.
When we walked in that office where they gave you the news
And you held together like stone,
Right then I knew what I was born to do,
And that’s walk with you all the way home.
And the Father, He was there
At the door with every prayer
That had been prayed for you all along the way.
And though His answer broke my heart,
I could feel the healing start
When I heard that tender voice say,
I heard Him say…
“Thank you for walking My daughter back home.
Oh yes, you walked with her all the way home.”
I don't think there is any greater earthly tribute those words. This is what a Christian marriage should be. This is what any relationship in this life should be. We all are here to help one another--to aid one another--to walk with one another--on our journey, and in reaching our Heavenly home.
Thank you, Dennis and Terre. Thank you for showing your love for one another. Thank you for showing your love and acceptance of God's will in your lives. Thank you for being my family--and my friends. Thank you for helping me--and so many others--on our walk with the Lord. I hope I can be half of the example you always have been to me!
When I decided to become a "Sweet" now almost 26 years ago, I had no idea how much Jeff's family would become "my" family in every way. When I met his HUGE family as a young 19 year old girl, I was overwhelmed by the immediate acceptance and unconditional love shown by his numerous aunts, uncles, cousins, and immediate family.
Two members of his family have served as friends, mentors, and counselors to us throughout those years. Dennis and Terre Conner have had such a tremendous effect on our lives that I wanted to share this. When Jeff and I began dating, all I heard about was Dennis and Terre. Dennis, Jeff's first cousin, was more like Jeff's brother than cousin. Dennis and his wife, Terre, lived in North Carolina, where Dennis was a minister. I remember meeting them and thinking what how their personalities were really different. Dennis, with his quiet, unassuming, but comical ways, and Terre, with her contagious laughter, and unbelievable robust energy and zest for life.
Dennis married us in 1985, and I remember the pre-marital counseling he held with us. His main advice was to love each other, and try to avoid saying "always" and "never". I remember eating dinner with Dennis and Terre and watching their interactions as a young married couple, as well. Their love for each other was so evident from the way they looked at each other to the way they cuddled on the couch. I thought to myself--"Now, that's the way I want our marriage to be!" Through the years, the miles between us limited the time we spent together. Regardless of the miles, Dennis and Terre continued to be a major influence in our lives.
When our youngest son was born, Jeff and I decided his name would be Conner, for Dennis and Terre. (Dennis was insistent that we spell it correctly with an "er" instead of an "or.") Conner turned 14 years old yesterday, and stills says he like the way his name is spelled because it makes him different. (Thanks, Denny!)
Shortly after Conner's birth, Dennis and Terre's life began a path that none of us would have expected. After finding a small lump in her breast, Terre was diagnosed with breast cancer. This battle would last for the next thirteen years with remissions, recurrences, radiation and rejoicing. Battling the disease that wreiked havoc in her lungs; her liver; her brain, Terri underwent so much physically. Experimental drugs; experimental therapies; excruciating pain; excruciating disappointments.
Through all of this Terre never lost her faith. She served as an example of total surrender to God's will in her life. She spoke on many occasions publicly about how the cancer had brought her closer to her Father, and how in many ways it had changed her life for the better. Finally Dennis and Terre decided together that there would be no more treatments; no more harsh drugs; only more time together. More time to look deeply into one another's eyes. More time to say the words that needed to be said. More time to see the places they wanted to see. More time to just be Dennis and Terre--together.
Terre lived the rest of her life on this earth to the fullest--with humility, dignity and trust in God. When God called her home last fall, she was ready. Cancer ravaged her physical body, but it couldn't touch her spirit. As she went to be with the Lord, she celebrated. And although we grieved the physical loss of the person we knew as Terre, we also celebrated that Terre's spirit was now with the Lord.
Dennis was always the perfect example of a Godly husband, and no more so that in Terre's illness. For many years, he rode the medical rollercoaster right along side of her--with all the ups and downs that went along with the disease. He wrote almost daily updates on a website by which his faith and love for God--and Terre--was evidenced in each word. His words showed a man whose physical heart was breaking as he watched the love of his life suffering. His words showed a man whose spirit never questioned--"Why me? Why us? Why Terre?" His words showed a man who knew God's plan was much bigger than his understanding of it.
As Dennis prepared for Terre's "homecoming," as he called it, there was of course grief. But that grief was accompanied by the knowledge that physical death is not the end--it is just the beginning. At Terre's celebration service in Raleigh, Dennis spoke of his precious bride, and their journey together. Another speaker spoke of Dennis, and how he had witnessed Dennis "walking Terre home." We had all witnessed this, and what a blessing it had been--and continues to be--in our lives.
A friend wrote these words in a song in honor of Dennis' relationship with our sweet Terre:
“WALKING HER HOME”
I remember seeing you after school one day.
You were standing outside all alone
And I began a new path with that question I asked,
“Oh, may I walk you all the way home?
I’d like to walk with you all the way home.”
Your Father was waiting at the door for you
And had that ‘Glad to see you’ smile painted on.
And he said to me as I turned to leave,
“Thank you for walking my daughter back home.
Thank you for walking her all the way home.”
And we kept walking many miles
To the church and down the aisle,
Oh, step by step through the sunshine and the rain.
And we kept walking hand in hand
Making memories, making plans,
Oh, but no could have planned for the pain.
When we walked in that office where they gave you the news
And you held together like stone,
Right then I knew what I was born to do,
And that’s walk with you all the way home.
And the Father, He was there
At the door with every prayer
That had been prayed for you all along the way.
And though His answer broke my heart,
I could feel the healing start
When I heard that tender voice say,
I heard Him say…
“Thank you for walking My daughter back home.
Oh yes, you walked with her all the way home.”
I don't think there is any greater earthly tribute those words. This is what a Christian marriage should be. This is what any relationship in this life should be. We all are here to help one another--to aid one another--to walk with one another--on our journey, and in reaching our Heavenly home.
Thank you, Dennis and Terre. Thank you for showing your love for one another. Thank you for showing your love and acceptance of God's will in your lives. Thank you for being my family--and my friends. Thank you for helping me--and so many others--on our walk with the Lord. I hope I can be half of the example you always have been to me!
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Take Me Out to the Ballgame!!
Anyone who knows the Sweet family, knows that this is our favorite time of year!! It is a hectic and crazy time, but we love it! Conner's love for the dramatic is in full swing every year during February with the annual school play! Long nights of practicing, costuming, and dancing combine with frantic attempts at homework! We are one week and counting now, and things are looking good for him!
We are also gearing up for our annual baseball run! Baseball is not just a sport in our household--it is an obsession! We love baseball--professional, little league, high school--ANY kind! When Jeff and I first were dating, it was softball. (Bat/ball--same concept!) He played four or five nights a week, and I loved hanging out watching him!
It was a given that one of our boys would love the sport, as well. (Both like it! Colton LOVES it!) When Conner was born in 1997, we made every attempt for Katie and Colton not to feel neglected or left out of the excitement. Colton was about 3 years old at this time, and he had a tendency to be jealous of "mom" time since the new addition. One afternoon, Conner was napping, and Katie was at kindergarten. I figured this would be a perfect chance for some one on one time with Colton.
From the time he was very young, Colton had loved playing with a ball. If it could be kicked, rolled, or thrown, he was in the middle of it! The third or fourth word in his vocabulary was "bawl"! (Yes, we are from the South!) I had I bought him a "Winnie the Pooh" padded bat and ball set, so I had him go into the bonus room and wait. As I presented the gift, he was really excited. It was raining that afternoon, so I suggested we play inside. I showed him how to stand up and hold the bat. After several attempts at my throws, he got the hang of it! Before the afternoon was over, he was smacking that fat little ball all around the room. When Jeff got home, Colton wanted to show him his new trick! On that day, Colton told us that he was going to be a "ball player!" Our afternoons of hitting and throwing in the bonus room during Conner's nap time became a routine. He hit the stuffing (literally) out of that ball. The seams on the bat eventually became thread bare. He moved on to a larger plastic bat, and our time together move outdoors.
Since that time, I have no idea how many balls I have thrown to him! (I wish I had a nickel for every one!) I finally had to stop when he began hitting so hard that a ball almost broke my shin. From playing "tee" ball at age 4; from watching our cat chase hit balls over the backyard fence; to All-Star games; to travel baseball; to DreamsPark in Cooperstown, NY; to high school varsity; this has been our life for the past 13 years! Colton's playing has taken us all over the country--Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Kentucky, Ohio, New York, Maryland, Virginia, West Virginia, Pennsylvania! Our love for the game has driven us to visit MLB ballparks in California, Colorado, Arizona, Ohio, Florida, New York, Georgia, Minnesota, Texas, and Toronto. We love roadtrips, so we just get in the car, and GO!
The other night, Colton and I sat and talked for about two hours--just about baseball! There was no television; no one home but us; no cell phone; no texting! Just talking! (What a rarity!) He went back in his mind to all those little league games; the trip to Cooperstown; meeting some of his idols @ Spring Training. He thanked me for always supporting him and allowing him to live the dream! I was really touched! Teenage boys don't often remember to say "thank you!" So this was a huge gift for Mom! Colton also said he had some regrets. This was strange for him. When I asked about this, he said he regretted that his grandmother's never got to see him play high school baseball. Both my mother and my mother-in-law were big baseball fans! They could really be embarrassing at little league games! Their grandson was always safe at base and never should be called "out" at all! (And they wouldn't mind sharing this with anyone!) I assured him that even though they were not here with us, they were watching! He smiled, saying he knew that. He just missed them!
As we begin to wind down a high school career, college is looming in the distance. He knows--and I know--our baseball time is growing to a close. Two more seasons of high school and summer ball, and we move on. Sure, there may be college ball. (We are hoping for that!) But we know, it will be different that the road we have been on!
I remember fondly those afternoons in that bonus room. I remember a little boy with curly red hair in slouchy pajama bottoms dragging a "Winnie the Pooh" bat. I remember the laughter and excitement from a hit that bounced off the television to the window to Mom's head! I remember the little arms around my neck saying, "I 'lub' you, Mama!" That little boys is all grown up now, but he will always be in my memory!
So, with that in mind, I am going to live in THIS moment! Even as I write this morning, we are getting ready for the season. Scrimmages have started. Travel plans for spring break are confirmed! Our household is changing over to baseball mode. So for the next six months (or 9 months if you count fall ball!), dinner may not be on the table at 6. Laundry may not be done. (Of course, the baseball uniforms will be though!) The house may not be perfectly clean! Our cars will contain buckets of bubblegum, sunflower seeds, gatorade, and dirt. If you need me, you better text me! I'll get back to you when I can! Everyone will just have to get over it! Mom's at the ballpark until further notice! And she's LOVING EVERY MINUTE OF IT!!
We are also gearing up for our annual baseball run! Baseball is not just a sport in our household--it is an obsession! We love baseball--professional, little league, high school--ANY kind! When Jeff and I first were dating, it was softball. (Bat/ball--same concept!) He played four or five nights a week, and I loved hanging out watching him!
It was a given that one of our boys would love the sport, as well. (Both like it! Colton LOVES it!) When Conner was born in 1997, we made every attempt for Katie and Colton not to feel neglected or left out of the excitement. Colton was about 3 years old at this time, and he had a tendency to be jealous of "mom" time since the new addition. One afternoon, Conner was napping, and Katie was at kindergarten. I figured this would be a perfect chance for some one on one time with Colton.
From the time he was very young, Colton had loved playing with a ball. If it could be kicked, rolled, or thrown, he was in the middle of it! The third or fourth word in his vocabulary was "bawl"! (Yes, we are from the South!) I had I bought him a "Winnie the Pooh" padded bat and ball set, so I had him go into the bonus room and wait. As I presented the gift, he was really excited. It was raining that afternoon, so I suggested we play inside. I showed him how to stand up and hold the bat. After several attempts at my throws, he got the hang of it! Before the afternoon was over, he was smacking that fat little ball all around the room. When Jeff got home, Colton wanted to show him his new trick! On that day, Colton told us that he was going to be a "ball player!" Our afternoons of hitting and throwing in the bonus room during Conner's nap time became a routine. He hit the stuffing (literally) out of that ball. The seams on the bat eventually became thread bare. He moved on to a larger plastic bat, and our time together move outdoors.
Since that time, I have no idea how many balls I have thrown to him! (I wish I had a nickel for every one!) I finally had to stop when he began hitting so hard that a ball almost broke my shin. From playing "tee" ball at age 4; from watching our cat chase hit balls over the backyard fence; to All-Star games; to travel baseball; to DreamsPark in Cooperstown, NY; to high school varsity; this has been our life for the past 13 years! Colton's playing has taken us all over the country--Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Kentucky, Ohio, New York, Maryland, Virginia, West Virginia, Pennsylvania! Our love for the game has driven us to visit MLB ballparks in California, Colorado, Arizona, Ohio, Florida, New York, Georgia, Minnesota, Texas, and Toronto. We love roadtrips, so we just get in the car, and GO!
The other night, Colton and I sat and talked for about two hours--just about baseball! There was no television; no one home but us; no cell phone; no texting! Just talking! (What a rarity!) He went back in his mind to all those little league games; the trip to Cooperstown; meeting some of his idols @ Spring Training. He thanked me for always supporting him and allowing him to live the dream! I was really touched! Teenage boys don't often remember to say "thank you!" So this was a huge gift for Mom! Colton also said he had some regrets. This was strange for him. When I asked about this, he said he regretted that his grandmother's never got to see him play high school baseball. Both my mother and my mother-in-law were big baseball fans! They could really be embarrassing at little league games! Their grandson was always safe at base and never should be called "out" at all! (And they wouldn't mind sharing this with anyone!) I assured him that even though they were not here with us, they were watching! He smiled, saying he knew that. He just missed them!
As we begin to wind down a high school career, college is looming in the distance. He knows--and I know--our baseball time is growing to a close. Two more seasons of high school and summer ball, and we move on. Sure, there may be college ball. (We are hoping for that!) But we know, it will be different that the road we have been on!
I remember fondly those afternoons in that bonus room. I remember a little boy with curly red hair in slouchy pajama bottoms dragging a "Winnie the Pooh" bat. I remember the laughter and excitement from a hit that bounced off the television to the window to Mom's head! I remember the little arms around my neck saying, "I 'lub' you, Mama!" That little boys is all grown up now, but he will always be in my memory!
So, with that in mind, I am going to live in THIS moment! Even as I write this morning, we are getting ready for the season. Scrimmages have started. Travel plans for spring break are confirmed! Our household is changing over to baseball mode. So for the next six months (or 9 months if you count fall ball!), dinner may not be on the table at 6. Laundry may not be done. (Of course, the baseball uniforms will be though!) The house may not be perfectly clean! Our cars will contain buckets of bubblegum, sunflower seeds, gatorade, and dirt. If you need me, you better text me! I'll get back to you when I can! Everyone will just have to get over it! Mom's at the ballpark until further notice! And she's LOVING EVERY MINUTE OF IT!!
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
And Now Abides "Love"
In this Valentine's week, there has been much in the media about love. Balloons and flowers were sent; chocolate was ingested; jewelry was lavished upon fingers, necks and even toes! As I packed away my Valentine decor this morning, it occurred to me that although all of the gestures are wonderful and kind, they are not truly the evidence of real love.
Today we seem to "love" everything. The use of the word has almost become trivial. We love to shop! We love to play Xbox! We love that new little restaurant down on the corner! Our young people today say "I love you" so quickly--without realizing what it means. They are "in love" with one person this week, and "out of love" the next. I realize that is all part of the "growing up" experience, but as adults, I think maybe we need to set a better example. Love is so complex, and yet, so simple in many ways.
There are four basic kinds of "love" that are derived from various words of ancient languages. "Storge" (pronounced stor-gay) is a familial type of love. Any parent understands this kinds of love the very first time you hold your newborn baby. It is a self-sacrificing, unconditional love with those with whom we share a family bond. It is the love that drives a mother to get up for those 2 a.m. feedings. It is the love that drives a father to throw that ball to his son again and again. after a long day's work. Family love is the unique bond shared within a family unit. This is not always a "blood relation." "Family" and the love associated with it come in many packages today. From grandparents raising grandchildren to single parent households, family and home are where you know you are going to be loved --no matter what is going on in your life.
"Eros" is an emotional love, often related to those with whom we share our most intimate relationship--our spouse. It is the physical relationship that comes from our God-given longings and desires. This type of love within the marriage relationship is indeed a gift from the Father, and it should not be cheapened by experiencing it outside of marriage--the way God intended it to be.
"Philia" refers to the love found in friendship. It has been said that our friends are the ones that know us best, and love us in spite of it. Friends often serve as encouragers and counselors. I've often said, I don't know how anyone survives in this life without a huge network of friends. I have friends with whom I have shared wonderful times and horrific tragedy. Friends with whom I have shared laughter and tears. We sometimes joke about how much we know about one another! Friendship is another wonderful gift in our lives!
"Agape" love is a self-less love for other people. This type of love puts others' needs before our own. This is the Christ-like sacrificial love that sometimes is difficult to have for others. In a "barter" society, we have re-written the "golden rule" to be more of "I'll do for you, IF you do for me." Agape love is a type of love is may not often be seen, but is surely something that is needed in the world today.
All four of these types of love go way beyond a simple gift of flowers or Valentine's Day card. It is amazing that in my life, I have seen all of the types of love evidenced by so many people. It is amazing what love can do:
In just as many situations, I have witnessed love (or the lack thereof) not being able to conquer these things. Sometimes love just isn't enough. That's when we have to rely on God's love.
I Corinthians 13 has always been one of my favorite chapters of the Bible. My precious 4th grade teacher, Margaret Meador, had us memorize this many years ago. There are a great number of things in the chapter that have helped sustain me during my life.
Knowing that "now I only know in part; I only see partially, like looking through a glass". Believing that someday I will understand the "big picture", and I will be known fully. And at last, I will fully know at that time also!
Remembering that love is not boastful; is not egotistical; is not self-seeking; is not easily angered or provoked. Remembering that love keeps no record of wrongs. No "I told you so's" needed in a loving relationship. Remembering this is one thing. Putting it into daily practice is quite another--at least for me, sometimes.
Knowing that possessing faith, hope and love is something for which I must strive. Knowing that love is the greatest of these. Knowing that in order to be loved, I need to love--just as Christ loved me.
So let's "like' chocolate chip cookies! Let's "like" that new living room furniture! Let's "like" taking a trip to the beach! But let's LOVE one another!
Today we seem to "love" everything. The use of the word has almost become trivial. We love to shop! We love to play Xbox! We love that new little restaurant down on the corner! Our young people today say "I love you" so quickly--without realizing what it means. They are "in love" with one person this week, and "out of love" the next. I realize that is all part of the "growing up" experience, but as adults, I think maybe we need to set a better example. Love is so complex, and yet, so simple in many ways.
There are four basic kinds of "love" that are derived from various words of ancient languages. "Storge" (pronounced stor-gay) is a familial type of love. Any parent understands this kinds of love the very first time you hold your newborn baby. It is a self-sacrificing, unconditional love with those with whom we share a family bond. It is the love that drives a mother to get up for those 2 a.m. feedings. It is the love that drives a father to throw that ball to his son again and again. after a long day's work. Family love is the unique bond shared within a family unit. This is not always a "blood relation." "Family" and the love associated with it come in many packages today. From grandparents raising grandchildren to single parent households, family and home are where you know you are going to be loved --no matter what is going on in your life.
"Eros" is an emotional love, often related to those with whom we share our most intimate relationship--our spouse. It is the physical relationship that comes from our God-given longings and desires. This type of love within the marriage relationship is indeed a gift from the Father, and it should not be cheapened by experiencing it outside of marriage--the way God intended it to be.
"Philia" refers to the love found in friendship. It has been said that our friends are the ones that know us best, and love us in spite of it. Friends often serve as encouragers and counselors. I've often said, I don't know how anyone survives in this life without a huge network of friends. I have friends with whom I have shared wonderful times and horrific tragedy. Friends with whom I have shared laughter and tears. We sometimes joke about how much we know about one another! Friendship is another wonderful gift in our lives!
"Agape" love is a self-less love for other people. This type of love puts others' needs before our own. This is the Christ-like sacrificial love that sometimes is difficult to have for others. In a "barter" society, we have re-written the "golden rule" to be more of "I'll do for you, IF you do for me." Agape love is a type of love is may not often be seen, but is surely something that is needed in the world today.
All four of these types of love go way beyond a simple gift of flowers or Valentine's Day card. It is amazing that in my life, I have seen all of the types of love evidenced by so many people. It is amazing what love can do:
- Love can overcome addictions
- Love can forgive ANY wrongdoing
- Love can heal scars of childhood sexual abuse
- Love can save unborn babies
- Love can manage mental illness
- Love can salvage a broken marriage
- Love can forgive shame and public embarrassment
- Love can deal with a diagnosis of terminal cancer
- Love can overcome the challenges of a disability
- Love can conquer almost anything this life throws at us
In just as many situations, I have witnessed love (or the lack thereof) not being able to conquer these things. Sometimes love just isn't enough. That's when we have to rely on God's love.
I Corinthians 13 has always been one of my favorite chapters of the Bible. My precious 4th grade teacher, Margaret Meador, had us memorize this many years ago. There are a great number of things in the chapter that have helped sustain me during my life.
Knowing that "now I only know in part; I only see partially, like looking through a glass". Believing that someday I will understand the "big picture", and I will be known fully. And at last, I will fully know at that time also!
Remembering that love is not boastful; is not egotistical; is not self-seeking; is not easily angered or provoked. Remembering that love keeps no record of wrongs. No "I told you so's" needed in a loving relationship. Remembering this is one thing. Putting it into daily practice is quite another--at least for me, sometimes.
Knowing that possessing faith, hope and love is something for which I must strive. Knowing that love is the greatest of these. Knowing that in order to be loved, I need to love--just as Christ loved me.
So let's "like' chocolate chip cookies! Let's "like" that new living room furniture! Let's "like" taking a trip to the beach! But let's LOVE one another!
Sunday, February 13, 2011
My "Sweet" Valentine!
(This is sort of a continuation of Doors and Windows . . . )
When you lose anyone you love, it is difficult. When you lose someone to suicide, you are never the same. The unanswered questions. The thoughts of "if only's" and "what if's" cloud your mind constantly. The thoughts of what could have been or should have been.
I faced all of that when I lost my dad to suicide in 1984. God put Jeff Sweet into my life because He knew the big picture. He knew the big plan, and He knew that Jeff would be what I needed for then--and for always.
So many times, we don't understand God's plans--particularly when we are in the middle of it. However, sometimes when we look back later--maybe years later--it all fits together. It fits together like a carefully thought out puzzle. The gray and black and white mingled together into a palette of beautiful color!
And it wasn't just God. It was my mother. She saw something in Jeff that I did not see. (And fought not to see for a while!) She constantly told me what a "sweet" (literally) boy he was. He was so mature for his age! Blah! Blah! Blah! I would call home on the weekend, and she would ask me to guess who was visiting her! JEFF! He had stopped by with a Baskin-Robbins' milkshake for her! This didn't happen just once--he was visiting her alot! I really thought he might have a thing for older women! She insisted that he was just a fine young man, and he was just concerned about her!
I still thought it was weird! But in a few weeks, I started realizing that she was right. He was a very kind and compassionate person. The neatest thing was the fact he was taking time to visit with a woman who had just lost her husband in a very tragic way. That wasn't really weird--it was pretty special. Before long, if my call found Jeff at my house, I'd ask my mom to keep him there until I could get there!
The writing was pretty soon on the wall, and I started seeing Jeff as part of my present and hopefully my future! He has always laughed and joked that he loved my mom before me! And she loved him dearly! She took his side much more often than mine through the years!
We had a whirlwind romance! We were engaged before I knew it! We married a year later, and that has now been almost 26 years ago.
Those years have been filled with a lot of happy times, and some not so happy times. Births of three children; trips to Disney World; new homes; vacations at the beach; baseball games; great times with family and friends; a sweet baby girl diagnosed with cerebral palsy; a miscarriage of a much wanted 4th child; the loss of my precious mother; the death of Jeff's dad; the years of Alzheimer's with Jeff's sweet mother before her death. Lots of good times and some not so good.
I'm thankful that God chose Jeff to be in my life. He has been my soul mate, and there is no other person that would have been better for the job!
Tonight, our church family celebrated marriage by a mass renewal of vows by many couples. Some of us had been married twenty years or so. Others were just youngsters. Some had been married over fifty years. As we all recited those familiar words again, tears welled up in my eyes. For better or worse; in sickness and in health; in prosperity and adversity. "I do"--and I did, and I would do it all again! This was in honor of Valentine's Day, but it occurred to me, that I get to celebrate this love EVERYDAY--not just on February 14th!
Hallmark has a commercial out for the holiday talking about "celebrating us"! That is something married couples need to do often. Too many times, we let life get in the way. We let the stress of life take a toll on our relationship. God ordained marriage, and we give Him honor by loving our mates! (Yes, even when they or we are unlovable!)
So as we celebrate Valentine's Day tomorrow, I don't need candy, romance, or long-stemmed roses! I know that I am loved by my husband. That's better than all the candles, flowers or Godiva in the world! (But the Tacori bracelet he got me ain't bad!!)
When you lose anyone you love, it is difficult. When you lose someone to suicide, you are never the same. The unanswered questions. The thoughts of "if only's" and "what if's" cloud your mind constantly. The thoughts of what could have been or should have been.
I faced all of that when I lost my dad to suicide in 1984. God put Jeff Sweet into my life because He knew the big picture. He knew the big plan, and He knew that Jeff would be what I needed for then--and for always.
So many times, we don't understand God's plans--particularly when we are in the middle of it. However, sometimes when we look back later--maybe years later--it all fits together. It fits together like a carefully thought out puzzle. The gray and black and white mingled together into a palette of beautiful color!
And it wasn't just God. It was my mother. She saw something in Jeff that I did not see. (And fought not to see for a while!) She constantly told me what a "sweet" (literally) boy he was. He was so mature for his age! Blah! Blah! Blah! I would call home on the weekend, and she would ask me to guess who was visiting her! JEFF! He had stopped by with a Baskin-Robbins' milkshake for her! This didn't happen just once--he was visiting her alot! I really thought he might have a thing for older women! She insisted that he was just a fine young man, and he was just concerned about her!
I still thought it was weird! But in a few weeks, I started realizing that she was right. He was a very kind and compassionate person. The neatest thing was the fact he was taking time to visit with a woman who had just lost her husband in a very tragic way. That wasn't really weird--it was pretty special. Before long, if my call found Jeff at my house, I'd ask my mom to keep him there until I could get there!
The writing was pretty soon on the wall, and I started seeing Jeff as part of my present and hopefully my future! He has always laughed and joked that he loved my mom before me! And she loved him dearly! She took his side much more often than mine through the years!
We had a whirlwind romance! We were engaged before I knew it! We married a year later, and that has now been almost 26 years ago.
Those years have been filled with a lot of happy times, and some not so happy times. Births of three children; trips to Disney World; new homes; vacations at the beach; baseball games; great times with family and friends; a sweet baby girl diagnosed with cerebral palsy; a miscarriage of a much wanted 4th child; the loss of my precious mother; the death of Jeff's dad; the years of Alzheimer's with Jeff's sweet mother before her death. Lots of good times and some not so good.
I'm thankful that God chose Jeff to be in my life. He has been my soul mate, and there is no other person that would have been better for the job!
Tonight, our church family celebrated marriage by a mass renewal of vows by many couples. Some of us had been married twenty years or so. Others were just youngsters. Some had been married over fifty years. As we all recited those familiar words again, tears welled up in my eyes. For better or worse; in sickness and in health; in prosperity and adversity. "I do"--and I did, and I would do it all again! This was in honor of Valentine's Day, but it occurred to me, that I get to celebrate this love EVERYDAY--not just on February 14th!
Hallmark has a commercial out for the holiday talking about "celebrating us"! That is something married couples need to do often. Too many times, we let life get in the way. We let the stress of life take a toll on our relationship. God ordained marriage, and we give Him honor by loving our mates! (Yes, even when they or we are unlovable!)
So as we celebrate Valentine's Day tomorrow, I don't need candy, romance, or long-stemmed roses! I know that I am loved by my husband. That's better than all the candles, flowers or Godiva in the world! (But the Tacori bracelet he got me ain't bad!!)
Friday, February 11, 2011
Doors and Windows
One of my mother's favorite sayings was "When God closes one door, He opens up a window." I grew up understanding this because she always explained that as she was losing her own mother to cancer, she was blessed (at age 35 after being told she could not have children) with ME!
The other day one of my facebook friends posted something about this old saying, and it got me to thinking. (You know how dangerous that can be!) I've seen God's work throughout my life, but never so clearly looking back as the day He decided Jeff would be in my life in such a big way.
I met Jeff in the fall of 1983 during my sophomore year @ Lipscomb University. We dated a few times, but we just did not click. I actually did not like him, nor was he really fond of me. I thought he was a little too cocky, and he thought I was a stuck-up snob. In looking back, we were both pretty much on target with those opinions!
I moved on dating another guy, and he moved on with another girl. College was fun! I was having the time of my life! Little did I know that my life was about to change--forever.
My father was probably the best man I've ever known, aside from my husband. While growing up, no little girl could have asked for a better daddy. He was a hard worker, a good Christian man, and he loved my mother and me unbelievably. During my early life, I knew Daddy got down sometimes. I remember times when he just went to bed, or he was overly emotional. As a child, your perception of life is your reality. (I guess that goes for adults, too!) Looking back now, I know that was depression. In the 1980's, there was not a lot of talk about dealing with depression or other mental illnesses. There was not nearly as much known about an illness called bipolar disorder or manic depressive disorder, as it was called at that time. But that is what my father had, but he did not get the help he so desperately needed. As his family, we could not get him that help either. I know my mother tried, but he would not hear of it. He always insisted he was fine.
On a cold January morning in 1984, I called home between classes. We had all been worried about my father. He was in a deep depression--one worse than the numerous others we had seen through the years. I had actually been in the office of one of my professors, who was one of Daddy's closest friends. I felt better after talking with him because he promised me that things would be okay. He would take Daddy to lunch the next day and convince him he needed to see a doctor. I was excited to tell my mom this news. Little did I know, things were racing out of control at home. The news I got on the other end of the line, set my mind to spinning and my suite mates to running. As I staggered down on the bed, I was screaming. As my roommates ran into the room, the phone dropped to the floor. The next two or three minutes were a blur. My mother's words kept replaying in my head. "Darlene, get home. Your daddy shot himself."
My best friend instinctively suggested that my current boyfriend drive us home. (Home was only about thirty minutes from campus.) I calmly said I didn't want him. I wanted someone to go and get Jeff Sweet. I remember the strange looks. Why would I want Jeff Sweet? Would Jeff Sweet even come drive us home? I don't really know why I made that decision, except that I think God knew I needed Jeff. Jeff was always a very "take charge," strong young man. I think I knew I was going into a really bad situation that day, and I was going to need that strength. In looking back, I don't think this was coincidence. I believe God led me to what I needed that day.
I remember Jeff coming into the dorm, and leading my best friend and me to his car. I remember the drive home. I continually asked questions, and Jeff calmly answered them. I remember pulling into the driveway and seeing the ambulance still there. I remember knowing that meant Daddy was not alive. I remember seeing scores of people in my back yard--family members, friends from the neighborhood, friends from church. I remember asking a dear family friend if Daddy was okay. I remember him shaking his head. I remember asking him if Daddy was gone, and I remember the nod. I remember going into the den, and seeing my mother in shock. I remember my aged grandfather sitting on the couch with our minister, grieving the loss of his son. I remember all eyes on me as I walked into my worst nightmare.
And I remember Jeff. I remember him never leaving my side, even though I never asked him. I remember him holding me up when my legs buckled. I remember him holding me and shielding my face when my daddy left our house for the last time on a stretcher. I remember Jeff staying with me all day while over a hundred people came and went. I remember Jeff backing away when my boyfriend came. But I remember he did not leave.
For whatever reason, my Daddy saw no other way out that cold January day. Did God close that window? Not directly. But it did close. But God opened a window that same day by putting Jeff in my life. Life has taught me that we are not defined by our circumstances. There are lessons to be learned in any situation of life. So many times, we get so caught up in grieving the closed doors in life that we fail to embrace the cool wind coming from a newly opened window. Grief is necessary, and it is a process. I grieved the loss of my father. I probably still do to some degree every day. But God had a plan for my life, and it was Jeff. It has not been a perfect life by any means. But it has been a good life.
Our story unfolded in a remarkable way. I will continue our journey next time!
The other day one of my facebook friends posted something about this old saying, and it got me to thinking. (You know how dangerous that can be!) I've seen God's work throughout my life, but never so clearly looking back as the day He decided Jeff would be in my life in such a big way.
I met Jeff in the fall of 1983 during my sophomore year @ Lipscomb University. We dated a few times, but we just did not click. I actually did not like him, nor was he really fond of me. I thought he was a little too cocky, and he thought I was a stuck-up snob. In looking back, we were both pretty much on target with those opinions!
I moved on dating another guy, and he moved on with another girl. College was fun! I was having the time of my life! Little did I know that my life was about to change--forever.
My father was probably the best man I've ever known, aside from my husband. While growing up, no little girl could have asked for a better daddy. He was a hard worker, a good Christian man, and he loved my mother and me unbelievably. During my early life, I knew Daddy got down sometimes. I remember times when he just went to bed, or he was overly emotional. As a child, your perception of life is your reality. (I guess that goes for adults, too!) Looking back now, I know that was depression. In the 1980's, there was not a lot of talk about dealing with depression or other mental illnesses. There was not nearly as much known about an illness called bipolar disorder or manic depressive disorder, as it was called at that time. But that is what my father had, but he did not get the help he so desperately needed. As his family, we could not get him that help either. I know my mother tried, but he would not hear of it. He always insisted he was fine.
On a cold January morning in 1984, I called home between classes. We had all been worried about my father. He was in a deep depression--one worse than the numerous others we had seen through the years. I had actually been in the office of one of my professors, who was one of Daddy's closest friends. I felt better after talking with him because he promised me that things would be okay. He would take Daddy to lunch the next day and convince him he needed to see a doctor. I was excited to tell my mom this news. Little did I know, things were racing out of control at home. The news I got on the other end of the line, set my mind to spinning and my suite mates to running. As I staggered down on the bed, I was screaming. As my roommates ran into the room, the phone dropped to the floor. The next two or three minutes were a blur. My mother's words kept replaying in my head. "Darlene, get home. Your daddy shot himself."
My best friend instinctively suggested that my current boyfriend drive us home. (Home was only about thirty minutes from campus.) I calmly said I didn't want him. I wanted someone to go and get Jeff Sweet. I remember the strange looks. Why would I want Jeff Sweet? Would Jeff Sweet even come drive us home? I don't really know why I made that decision, except that I think God knew I needed Jeff. Jeff was always a very "take charge," strong young man. I think I knew I was going into a really bad situation that day, and I was going to need that strength. In looking back, I don't think this was coincidence. I believe God led me to what I needed that day.
I remember Jeff coming into the dorm, and leading my best friend and me to his car. I remember the drive home. I continually asked questions, and Jeff calmly answered them. I remember pulling into the driveway and seeing the ambulance still there. I remember knowing that meant Daddy was not alive. I remember seeing scores of people in my back yard--family members, friends from the neighborhood, friends from church. I remember asking a dear family friend if Daddy was okay. I remember him shaking his head. I remember asking him if Daddy was gone, and I remember the nod. I remember going into the den, and seeing my mother in shock. I remember my aged grandfather sitting on the couch with our minister, grieving the loss of his son. I remember all eyes on me as I walked into my worst nightmare.
And I remember Jeff. I remember him never leaving my side, even though I never asked him. I remember him holding me up when my legs buckled. I remember him holding me and shielding my face when my daddy left our house for the last time on a stretcher. I remember Jeff staying with me all day while over a hundred people came and went. I remember Jeff backing away when my boyfriend came. But I remember he did not leave.
For whatever reason, my Daddy saw no other way out that cold January day. Did God close that window? Not directly. But it did close. But God opened a window that same day by putting Jeff in my life. Life has taught me that we are not defined by our circumstances. There are lessons to be learned in any situation of life. So many times, we get so caught up in grieving the closed doors in life that we fail to embrace the cool wind coming from a newly opened window. Grief is necessary, and it is a process. I grieved the loss of my father. I probably still do to some degree every day. But God had a plan for my life, and it was Jeff. It has not been a perfect life by any means. But it has been a good life.
Our story unfolded in a remarkable way. I will continue our journey next time!
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Little Moments
Looking back on the last twenty years, motherhood has indeed been my greatest adventure. It's hard to determine which "phase" of my children's lives has been my favorite. It could be the baby years--all the rocking, holding, sweet baby smells--and even the not so sweet smells! Next came the toddler years--years full of wonder and new discoveries. Years when I was probably the most important person in their lives. Days of hearing "Momma" a thousand times before lunch! First days of kindergarten; losing that first tooth; hunting Easter eggs; baking Christmas cookies; learning to ride bikes; reading stories every night in bed; wearing out rocking chairs from rocking so much! Going into middle school with sports, music and girls! First dates; first kisses; first time behind a car wheel! Growing on up--facing life and some of its challenges; teenage drama; first loves and first break-ups; aging family members; deaths of grandparents. Parenting coming full circle in so many ways.
I think my very favorite part of all of motherhood has been holding my children. From the time they were babies and kissing the little crown of their head. Then moving on to holding them and making it all better when they fell. When I was growing up, my mother always took time to stop whatever she was doing to hold me. It didn't matter if dinner was late or she was sick, she took time to hold me; love me; read a book with me; or just be with me. As a grandmother, she always encouraged me to do the same, and I've tried to do this with my three children. My aunt always told me I was spoiling them by holding them so much! I didn't care, and did it more sometimes just to hear her fuss about it! If holding spoils a child, then mine were spoiled rotten!
As my three have grown older, I think I miss that holding more than anything. It's kind of hard to hold a child that has grown bigger than you. But you know, there are those little moments when even the "big" kid wants to be held by Momma. My Conner, who is almost 14, has had the flu this week. He has been so sick with fever and chills, but he has warmed my heart by wanting me to hold him and stroke his face like I did when he was little. Of course, he only had to ask me to do this one time, and I was on the job! Last night when I tucked him in, he thanked me for taking care of him. I had to walk out of his room quickly! I was glad the light was off so he didn't see my tears!
His fever spiked again tonight, and he was really restless. Tonight as I held him on the couch in front of the fire, I looked down at him sleeping. I wondered to myself--where has the time gone? It seems like only yesterday that he was a sleeping toddler on my lap. I never dreamed the time would pass so quickly. I have always heard other moms comment on how rapidly children grow up, but it has really become a reality of late.
I know these times together are going to be fewer and fewer in the years to come. All mothers of growing or grown children know this feeling. We want our children to grow and to spread those wings. But we miss our babies, and we love them so!
I'm sorry Conner has been sick, but I'm thankful that I've had some little moments to hold my baby boy again. I guess these little moments will have to hold me until I'm a grandmother, and I can re-live those baby days again!! If you are a younger mom, hold those babies every chance you get! Enjoy those chaotic times, because you're gonna miss those times before you know it! Cherish each of those little moments with your precious gifts from God!!
I think my very favorite part of all of motherhood has been holding my children. From the time they were babies and kissing the little crown of their head. Then moving on to holding them and making it all better when they fell. When I was growing up, my mother always took time to stop whatever she was doing to hold me. It didn't matter if dinner was late or she was sick, she took time to hold me; love me; read a book with me; or just be with me. As a grandmother, she always encouraged me to do the same, and I've tried to do this with my three children. My aunt always told me I was spoiling them by holding them so much! I didn't care, and did it more sometimes just to hear her fuss about it! If holding spoils a child, then mine were spoiled rotten!
As my three have grown older, I think I miss that holding more than anything. It's kind of hard to hold a child that has grown bigger than you. But you know, there are those little moments when even the "big" kid wants to be held by Momma. My Conner, who is almost 14, has had the flu this week. He has been so sick with fever and chills, but he has warmed my heart by wanting me to hold him and stroke his face like I did when he was little. Of course, he only had to ask me to do this one time, and I was on the job! Last night when I tucked him in, he thanked me for taking care of him. I had to walk out of his room quickly! I was glad the light was off so he didn't see my tears!
His fever spiked again tonight, and he was really restless. Tonight as I held him on the couch in front of the fire, I looked down at him sleeping. I wondered to myself--where has the time gone? It seems like only yesterday that he was a sleeping toddler on my lap. I never dreamed the time would pass so quickly. I have always heard other moms comment on how rapidly children grow up, but it has really become a reality of late.
I know these times together are going to be fewer and fewer in the years to come. All mothers of growing or grown children know this feeling. We want our children to grow and to spread those wings. But we miss our babies, and we love them so!
I'm sorry Conner has been sick, but I'm thankful that I've had some little moments to hold my baby boy again. I guess these little moments will have to hold me until I'm a grandmother, and I can re-live those baby days again!! If you are a younger mom, hold those babies every chance you get! Enjoy those chaotic times, because you're gonna miss those times before you know it! Cherish each of those little moments with your precious gifts from God!!
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Ozians and Flying Monkeys!
I never thought I'd say this, but the thought of Ozians and flying monkeys have been keeping me awake at night! (That sounds as if I should be on a therapist couch somewhere!) Every year for the past several years, January and February take on a life of their own at our house with our school's annual stage production. My Conner, now almost 14, is our family member with a flare for the dramatic. From singing to guitar to acting, Conner is at home on the stage. (It has been said that he is much like his mother was at that young age! In other words--a ham!) He began in 6th grade as part of the cast of OKLAHOMA, and again last year in YOU'RE A GOOD MAN, CHARLIE BROWN! These are major school productions with weeks of practice; fabulous sets, and magnificent costuming under the direction of faculty members that could do a run on Broadway! (Absolutely the best!)
This year's play is THE WIZARD OF OZ. Yes, you guessed it. Conner has split parts--one as a flying monkey and the other as a citizen of the Emerald City of Oz. I thought this would be fairly easy to costume. There are scores of websites dedicated to this wonderful story, and all are filled with fantastic costumes! Everything from Dorothy's red slippers to Wicked Witch hats! To good to be true! A plan that comes together easily!
Not to be--at least not with Conner! He wanted his costumes to be unique--not store bought, but mom-made! So, in an effort to retain my title of super-mom, I began the quest for green glitz and glam, along with brown furry stuff. I spent several nights awake tossing and turning with visions of little green men and flying apes!
In wracking my brain on where to start, I chose the GoodWill Thrift store! I was amazed at all I found there at remarkable prices! I wandered up and down the aisles, muttering to myself under my breath as I put outfits together in my mind. I got more than a couple of odd stares from fellow-shoppers. (Probably because I looked like I was outfitting a family of pea-pods with every shade of green imaginable!) I left with a huge bag of shirts, pants, suspenders, and other clothing for about $20.
I next went to a party store, and I headed strait to the St. Patrick's Day display! Green hats, socks, bow ties, sunglasses! I hit pay dirt for around $12! On to the the craft store for green glitter paint, and my mission for my Ozian was just about complete!
Now I was off for the flying monkey costume! In my mind's eye, I chose a sweat suit dyed with brown Rit dye to be completed with dyed slipper socks and gloves. Luckily, tails, ears and wings are being created by the drama department!
Finally, at home with all my supplies, I got to work on my creations! It was so much fun! All of my concerns had given away to something GREAT! Conner's going to look like something between a glitzy, green Elton John style leprechaun and a 5'7" sock monkey! But it worked! Conner really liked both of the costumes, even though he had to give me a few "eye rolls" that are so typical of teenagers! I spent about the same money as I would have on the costume websites, but I got so much more than an ordered costume! I got to be MOM! I've learned through the years there is no better job in the world!
This year's play is THE WIZARD OF OZ. Yes, you guessed it. Conner has split parts--one as a flying monkey and the other as a citizen of the Emerald City of Oz. I thought this would be fairly easy to costume. There are scores of websites dedicated to this wonderful story, and all are filled with fantastic costumes! Everything from Dorothy's red slippers to Wicked Witch hats! To good to be true! A plan that comes together easily!
Not to be--at least not with Conner! He wanted his costumes to be unique--not store bought, but mom-made! So, in an effort to retain my title of super-mom, I began the quest for green glitz and glam, along with brown furry stuff. I spent several nights awake tossing and turning with visions of little green men and flying apes!
In wracking my brain on where to start, I chose the GoodWill Thrift store! I was amazed at all I found there at remarkable prices! I wandered up and down the aisles, muttering to myself under my breath as I put outfits together in my mind. I got more than a couple of odd stares from fellow-shoppers. (Probably because I looked like I was outfitting a family of pea-pods with every shade of green imaginable!) I left with a huge bag of shirts, pants, suspenders, and other clothing for about $20.
I next went to a party store, and I headed strait to the St. Patrick's Day display! Green hats, socks, bow ties, sunglasses! I hit pay dirt for around $12! On to the the craft store for green glitter paint, and my mission for my Ozian was just about complete!
Now I was off for the flying monkey costume! In my mind's eye, I chose a sweat suit dyed with brown Rit dye to be completed with dyed slipper socks and gloves. Luckily, tails, ears and wings are being created by the drama department!
Finally, at home with all my supplies, I got to work on my creations! It was so much fun! All of my concerns had given away to something GREAT! Conner's going to look like something between a glitzy, green Elton John style leprechaun and a 5'7" sock monkey! But it worked! Conner really liked both of the costumes, even though he had to give me a few "eye rolls" that are so typical of teenagers! I spent about the same money as I would have on the costume websites, but I got so much more than an ordered costume! I got to be MOM! I've learned through the years there is no better job in the world!
Friday, February 4, 2011
Modern-day Mythology
This week, I worked with 6th graders beginning a unit on Greek mythology. Most of them looked less than thrilled when I announced this. As we began talking about various aspects of mythology, I explained that mythology is rather like "fairytales on steroids"--wild things taken to the 100th power. Things not possible, yet mixed with some elements of truth. Stories of people driven to do unimaginable things for unthinkable reasons.
It occurred to me that we live in a day and age of modern-mythology. We somehow believe things that have a small fraction of truth, but are unrealistic in so many ways. As a self-labeled perfectionist, I have fallen face-first into this trap--again and again throughout my ife.
As a whole, our society is made to feel that "bigger is better." Bigger houses; bigger bank accounts; bigger salaries. Bigger is better, isn't it? (I've always thought it was--at least with my hair!)
We strive to work ourselves to death to keep up with the proverbial "Jones'" next door. Enough is never enough. Enough can never be enough when you are trying to keep up with those "gods and goddesses" in life. "Things" never satisfy us--we want more and more. But even "more" is not enough." The "myth" that money or a bigger house or car is going to satisfy us charges our batteries and makes us want it at sometimes almost any cost.
In some things, more is not what we want. We want less. We want fewer wrinkles, less body hair and smaller numbers on the scale! We diet to the point of starvation. We riddle our bodies with pills that promise to shrink away pounds, but make us nervous and jittery. We nip, tuck, laser and Botox anything we can! We strive for perfection in our bodily appearance. We all seem to think we are some "Medusa-type" creature, when in fact--ALL women are beautiful! We are made in the image of the Father, and we need to remember that--and BELIEVE it!! We teach our young girls from a young age that the Barbie doll is the perfect woman. Many of us spend the rest of our life trying to live-out that myth, and beating ourselves up when we simply cannot.
Many of us seek to live out those "myths" time and time again. Failure has been defined as doing the same thing again and again, but expecting different results. Why do we again and again look for happiness by racking up new charges on the credit card for more "stuff"??
I am not advocating in complacency or laziness. I am not suggesting that we live a non-healthy life-style. I'm not stating that we all adopt the European culture by stopping shaving either!
I am saying that we all need to be aware of what will truly make us happy. What is something that you simply would not want to live without in you life. It may be the love of your family. It may be the realization that you are a child of God. It may be the beauty of a sunset or the rolling of ocean waves. Being thankful for what you have is a GREAT starting point.
As I have grown older, I have begun to realize that THINGS do not make me happy. Trying to be a size 6 is not going to make me happy. (And it's not going to happen in this menopausal body!) A mansion on a hillside is not going to make me happy. Driving a hummer is not going to make me happy, plus it's going to break my bank account just for gasoline!
Happiness comes from within. So, I say it's time to slay those myths, and look for the beauty inside of each of us! I don't think anyone is going to lie on her deathbed, and be thankful at that time that she worked overtime in order to buy that 60 inch flat-screen television or the 6 carat diamond ring on her finger. I think at that point in my life, I want to realize that I was lucky not to fall for the modern-day myths of this life. I want to know with all certainty that I was blessed by knowing what was important in this life--and what was not!
It occurred to me that we live in a day and age of modern-mythology. We somehow believe things that have a small fraction of truth, but are unrealistic in so many ways. As a self-labeled perfectionist, I have fallen face-first into this trap--again and again throughout my ife.
As a whole, our society is made to feel that "bigger is better." Bigger houses; bigger bank accounts; bigger salaries. Bigger is better, isn't it? (I've always thought it was--at least with my hair!)
We strive to work ourselves to death to keep up with the proverbial "Jones'" next door. Enough is never enough. Enough can never be enough when you are trying to keep up with those "gods and goddesses" in life. "Things" never satisfy us--we want more and more. But even "more" is not enough." The "myth" that money or a bigger house or car is going to satisfy us charges our batteries and makes us want it at sometimes almost any cost.
In some things, more is not what we want. We want less. We want fewer wrinkles, less body hair and smaller numbers on the scale! We diet to the point of starvation. We riddle our bodies with pills that promise to shrink away pounds, but make us nervous and jittery. We nip, tuck, laser and Botox anything we can! We strive for perfection in our bodily appearance. We all seem to think we are some "Medusa-type" creature, when in fact--ALL women are beautiful! We are made in the image of the Father, and we need to remember that--and BELIEVE it!! We teach our young girls from a young age that the Barbie doll is the perfect woman. Many of us spend the rest of our life trying to live-out that myth, and beating ourselves up when we simply cannot.
Many of us seek to live out those "myths" time and time again. Failure has been defined as doing the same thing again and again, but expecting different results. Why do we again and again look for happiness by racking up new charges on the credit card for more "stuff"??
I am not advocating in complacency or laziness. I am not suggesting that we live a non-healthy life-style. I'm not stating that we all adopt the European culture by stopping shaving either!
I am saying that we all need to be aware of what will truly make us happy. What is something that you simply would not want to live without in you life. It may be the love of your family. It may be the realization that you are a child of God. It may be the beauty of a sunset or the rolling of ocean waves. Being thankful for what you have is a GREAT starting point.
As I have grown older, I have begun to realize that THINGS do not make me happy. Trying to be a size 6 is not going to make me happy. (And it's not going to happen in this menopausal body!) A mansion on a hillside is not going to make me happy. Driving a hummer is not going to make me happy, plus it's going to break my bank account just for gasoline!
Happiness comes from within. So, I say it's time to slay those myths, and look for the beauty inside of each of us! I don't think anyone is going to lie on her deathbed, and be thankful at that time that she worked overtime in order to buy that 60 inch flat-screen television or the 6 carat diamond ring on her finger. I think at that point in my life, I want to realize that I was lucky not to fall for the modern-day myths of this life. I want to know with all certainty that I was blessed by knowing what was important in this life--and what was not!
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Friends for the Seasons of Life
Our minister recently spoke of seasons in our lives. As I sit in my kitchen on this VERY cold February morning (thinking ahead to warmer days), God put these thoughts on my heart to share with you--some old friends, some new friends.
This life is filled with different seasons. There are seasons of spring--refreshing and filled with newness! Life stands as a bare canvas before us. We journey together down life's crossroads with few preconceived ideas and sometimes awestruck wonder. We feel invincible; young and carefree. Life stands ready for us! We are able to overcome anything!
There are seasons of summer--when warmth and sunlight fill our lives. Times are happy; life is blessed. The seas of life roll in and out like the ocean's tide. Sometimes those ocean currents may become rough, but there are always lifelines sent to save us. Then there is peace once more. Life is good again, and we thank God for his showers of blessing in our lives.
Days of autumn can bring sudden and frequent change in our lives. Some of these changes are expected like the beautiful colors of orange, yellow, and red that show the wonders of God's handiwork. Some of the changes are not so beautiful, and shake us to our soul. Life always changes, but we often resist those changes, and long for the familiar things that grant us serenity.
Sometimes chilly winds of winter seem to take over our lives. Things happen that numb us to our core. We long for the warmth of sunshine and the end of those dark, dreary days. Occassionally, a beautiful snow falls during this time that covers the bleakness like a soft, warm blanket. That warmth reminds us that this too shall pass.
So for my friends, I want you to know how thankful I am those God chose to put you in my life! Regardless of the season, you have been a constant friend to me. You've stood with me at those crossroads, and given me support to make those hard decisions. You've withstood those sometimes rough ocean currents, and have a many times been that lifeline pulling me back to shore. You have held me closely when life's changes have sometimes shaken my faith. You've covered me like that warm blankets when winter's chill froze my heart.
I wanted you to know that you are a cherished friend, and I thank God for you. Where would we be in this world without one another?
This life is filled with different seasons. There are seasons of spring--refreshing and filled with newness! Life stands as a bare canvas before us. We journey together down life's crossroads with few preconceived ideas and sometimes awestruck wonder. We feel invincible; young and carefree. Life stands ready for us! We are able to overcome anything!
There are seasons of summer--when warmth and sunlight fill our lives. Times are happy; life is blessed. The seas of life roll in and out like the ocean's tide. Sometimes those ocean currents may become rough, but there are always lifelines sent to save us. Then there is peace once more. Life is good again, and we thank God for his showers of blessing in our lives.
Days of autumn can bring sudden and frequent change in our lives. Some of these changes are expected like the beautiful colors of orange, yellow, and red that show the wonders of God's handiwork. Some of the changes are not so beautiful, and shake us to our soul. Life always changes, but we often resist those changes, and long for the familiar things that grant us serenity.
Sometimes chilly winds of winter seem to take over our lives. Things happen that numb us to our core. We long for the warmth of sunshine and the end of those dark, dreary days. Occassionally, a beautiful snow falls during this time that covers the bleakness like a soft, warm blanket. That warmth reminds us that this too shall pass.
So for my friends, I want you to know how thankful I am those God chose to put you in my life! Regardless of the season, you have been a constant friend to me. You've stood with me at those crossroads, and given me support to make those hard decisions. You've withstood those sometimes rough ocean currents, and have a many times been that lifeline pulling me back to shore. You have held me closely when life's changes have sometimes shaken my faith. You've covered me like that warm blankets when winter's chill froze my heart.
I wanted you to know that you are a cherished friend, and I thank God for you. Where would we be in this world without one another?
Today is the First Day . . .
Everyone has always told me that I needed to write, so as of today--I'm writing! I have thought about blogging for some time, but just really wondered why anyone else would want to hear what I have to say! Maybe they won't; but maybe they will.
Regardless, I have always believed that writing can be almost like therapy--and a lot less expensive!
So today, I begin a journey as a blogger! Should be an interesting ride!
Regardless, I have always believed that writing can be almost like therapy--and a lot less expensive!
So today, I begin a journey as a blogger! Should be an interesting ride!
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