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!!

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:

• 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!

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!!) 

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!

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!!

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!

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!

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?

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!