Category: family

Time to Step Away

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“Then Jesus said, “Let’s go off by ourselves to a quiet place and rest awhile.” Mark 6:1 (NLT)

We all need time to go off and leave normal behind. We have that opportunity soon and I am so looking forward to it. Next week we will be in Maine.

We lived in Maine for three years in the early 80’s. Those three years were some of the best years of my life. I am anxious to once more walk and see the rock bound coast, hearing the gulls cry and seeing the waves of the mighty Atlantic Gulf of Maine come rushing up over the rocks.

I long to smell the sea air, different from other sea air with a slight briskness of the north hiding underneath the fragrance of pluff mud and seaweed. To listen to the fog horns in the distance and to look for the lights of the lighthouses.

We had planned to retire there. To live out the bulk of life there, enjoying the creative majesty of God. I think this area must be close to what Heaven is, as I am enveloped in the peace I find in the coast.

I left pieces of my heart there when we left in 1982. I am hoping to rediscover those pieces when we visit, although I know those pieces will not want to rejoin me.

We plan to visit a few people. A couple of the girls from our youth group held in our home. They babysat our oldest and stopped almost daily at our house before heading home from school. Precious women who are a testament of the ministry we had there. I long to hug them and get caught up.

We will stop in to see friends who were our mentors in our young Christian walk. They poured much into our lives and hearts. They often appeared at our door with just what we were in need of, be it hand me downs that were beautiful for our daughter or advice and teaching. We need to see them, just one more time.

It’s been 32 years since we last were there. Our oldest was 12 and now, she wants her daughter and husband to see a part of her past.

My soul recently has been downcast. My mind has raced from one thought to battle another and I am weary. I know soon I will be refreshed. I will be refreshed because I will be home this side of glory for just a few days.

“Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
2 This I declare about the Lord: He alone is my refuge, my place of safety; He is my God, and I trust Him.” Psalm 91:1-2 (NLT)

Mountains, Mobile, and More Stitches

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“We can make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps.” Proverbs 16:9 (NLT)

At the end of May we took a few days to go to the mountains of North Carolina. After the year we have had, we figured a trip to step away was what we needed.

Indeed, it was a welcome respite. Sitting on the porch swings and watching the sun dance through the trees and leaves. Seeing the sun on the ripples of the pond and listening to the birds and the frogs. We were removed from all the things pressing down on us. We relaxed. We reconnected with each other. We ate our way through the mountain towns during the day and came back to the cabin at night to sit some more.

It was such a wonderful time. We didn’t want it to end and as we drove toward home, we both said we wished we could have stayed longer. It was that kind of time away.

But, to home we came. Laundry, cleaning and groceries are needing to be done. But, we were relaxed and rested. It was okay.

Upon arriving home, Dale checked his messages to find out that a friend had passed away. A friend we met when we were first married. A little family who lived in an apartment above ours. They too were recently married and had a baby. They were a Coast Guard family, we, a Navy family. Our relationship was an instant one. We were together often. I never wanted children until I held their precious baby girl. She became our god-daughter. We became family.

As happens before computers and smart phones, we lost touch, until a few years ago when we rediscovered each other. Phone calls, messages, texts and we were back in touch. We had meant to go visit, but, life kept intervening. This time, life stopped and we traveled to Mobile to pay our final respects.

We didn’t know what to expect. We hadn’t seen this family in over 40 years. The day after driving to Mobile, we found ourselves at the door of our friend. As the door opened, the years were erased. Tears, laughter, memories, more laughter, more tears, holding hands and hugging. Time was erased.

We visited for a while and left so she could rest. We drove around that afternoon. Mostly lost in our own thoughts and memories. When we stopped to eat, we were once more in a place of quiet.

We sat and ate our fresh seafood, and listened to the seagulls, the sea birds, the fishing vessels. It was what we needed. A respite. A place to gather our thoughts. A time to remember.

We attended the funeral and the gathering afterwards. We returned home. A bit weary, but refreshed also.

Last week I had another surgery for my face. I can’t say I remember much of that, as I slept through it. I know that it was a process to get to the final step, that being not having a hole in the side of my nose.

The past few weeks have been a whirl wind of sorts. It was not what we had planned. But, God. He knew exactly what was going to happen. Would we have planned it all this way? No. But, in our planning we would have missed the little moments we experienced. Moments that made lasting memories for us to cherish.

The lesson I learned the most was when we saw our god-daughter for the first time. I saw her walk into the funeral home. I went over to her and found myself hugging her with my hand on the back of her head, the way I used to hold her as an infant. Tears flowed freely as I hugged her. I told her I had longed to hug her for a very long time, that my heart never forgot her. She hugged me just as tightly back.

As I came home the Lord spoke to me. He reminded me that He created me and held me as I once held our god-daughter. And like the intervening years of not being able to hug her, was like us when we walk away from the Lord. His heart longs to hold us, and keep us near to Him. The joy I felt when I saw and hugged our god-daughter is how our Lord feels when we return to Him and stay close to Him. There is a joy, a peace and a love that surpasses our understanding.

Sitting on a Porch Swing

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And He said, “My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.” – Exodus 33:14 (NKJV)

Dale and I got away this week from our normal routine. It’s not like we live in a metropolis, no we live a quiet life on our 5 acre piece of heaven.

After the start of this year, with our daughter’s cancer and my basal cell surgeries, we needed to unwind. So we came to the mountains to a beautiful log cabin in Whittier in the Great Smoky mountains of North Carolina.

It’s a quiet place, and restful. Each night we have been serenaded by the frogs in the pond and trees. At dusk birds call to one another while the scent of honeysuckle fills the air.

Dale has fished nightly, catching and releasing a variety of fish. Fishing is his relaxing time, I know he does his talking with God during those times.

This afternoon, after going into town for lunch and ice cream, and browsing the shops we returned and sat on the porch swing. This is my favorite thing.

I sat curled up next to Dale, his arms wrapped around me. We talked about everything and nothing. We laughed together. It felt comfortable. It was peaceful. It was familiar.

I thought of vacations past. Expectations were there, as well as disappointments. This time was different. We were grateful to just be. We put away thoughts of ‘to-do’ lists. We didn’t focus on the heavy things we have just come through.

No, this part of the Lord’s glorious creation was for us to just be. The house allowed us to do so. The porch gave us space to be quiet or to laugh over silly things.

Too often we go day to day, mentally checking off things, berating ourselves for unaccomplished things. This week the Lord called us to rest and reflect. The journey for us has had it’s ups and downs, but I couldn’t have asked for a better partner to accompany me.

A Random Memory

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“Father to the fatherless, defender of widows— this is God, whose dwelling is holy.” Psalm 68:5 (NLT)

My time of walking is a time for prayer, a time to reflect and often it is a time when random things pop into my head. Today was no different.

What happened today was a memory of my Dad. I don’t often write about my Dad, I don’t know why. I have always looked like my Dad’s side of the family. I have the same unibrow he had, and I now yell at the television like he did. I like to walk like he did. There are many similarities. He was a quiet man. Conversations weren’t always easy with him. He died suddenly which was a shock to everyone. The above scripture is one the Lord gave me on the flight home from his funeral.

The random memory was about a time I spent with my Dad on an early Sunday morning, years ago. I have always been a horrible sleeper. One night must have been one of those nights that I kept my parents up also. This is how I remember the events of that early Sunday morning.

My Dad walked into the bedroom I shared with my younger sister. He said that since I was awake, I might as well get up and dressed to go to early mass. The early mass was at 5:30 a.m.

I got dressed in my new Easter jacket (a short white one, and a red rose covered headband) and off we went in the dark. After mass, the sun was just rising. We drove past our house and continued on to the cemetery. He parked at the far edge of the cemetery and we got out to walk. I had never been there before and honestly, I don’t know if I have ever gone back to that point since.

Spring flowers were just blooming. I remember holding onto my Dad’s hand and listening to him talk. I can’t remember what he said, I just have the memory of his voice talking to me. I felt so special in that moment.

We got to the edge of a hill and watched as the sun continued to rise. Below us ran the Allegheny River, hard to see at first, but glistened as the sun hit it . The sun woke the birds and they chirped as daylight began.

There were few moments like this with my Dad. It was a different time and generation. Dad’s were the quiet head of the houses. They were stern and catered to.

Later in my life, this man became the single parent to three daughters. How strange that must have been for him. I am certain he felt overwhelmed and at a loss as to what to do. But, he was steadfast in being there. Not always saying or doing things correctly, but he was a constant.

As I walked this morning, I realized that our Heavenly Father is a constant also. He is a father to the fatherless. I felt this morning that it has been too long since I walked hand in hand with Him. Like normal families, we often dash in to grab a quick snack only to dash out again to be on our way. Our Heavenly Father is understanding, but I feel like He longs for us to stop, talk, crawl up into His lap and listen as His voice fills our being with knowledge that we are special.

My Three Mothers

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This coming Sunday is Mother’s Day. Already, in my facebook memories I am seeing past posts I have made about this day. I am also seeing my friends post pictures of their Moms.

This holiday always gets to me. First of all Mothers should be honored each and every day, not just one day a year. We, (mothers) don’t need to have lavish gifts once a year to remind us that we are loved. No, and this is my personal opinion, a simple text saying ‘love you’ is enough, as long as we hear it at least once a week. A phone call is another gift that we cherish.

I have always tried to make Mother’s Day a family day. For without our family, how could we be a mother?

As I walked today thoughts of my three mothers came to mind.

Elizabeth Mae, my mother. She passed away when I was eleven. I remember her in bits and pieces. Sometimes those memories are crystal clear, like they happened yesterday, but for the most part memories of her are like looking through a frosted glass. Did they really happen? Or am I seeing a reflection of stories I have heard. Today, one memory came rushing in. I hadn’t thought of it for forever. My sister and I were fighting. I called her a name that I shouldn’t have uttered. I did it in front of my Mom. After spewing the disparaging word at my sister, I looked over to see my Mom’s expression. I took off running. I know, stupid thing to do. I just didn’t run around the inside of the house, I high tailed it outside, heading for the woods. I knew she wouldn’t follow me there. But, there she followed me! Grabbing me by the arm she popped me on the mouth. Not harshly, just enough for me to remember sixty years later. I was then reminded that she was my sister, and she deserved better. I apologized to my sister and as I think of this memory, I laugh. I underestimated how fast mothers can be.

A year after this incident my Mom passed away from pancreatic cancer.

Dottie, my older sister was my second mom. She gave up her carefree teen years to be a mother to my younger sister and myself. I did not make her role easy. I think she had the toughest role of all. She guided me through my teen years. She encouraged me to do things. She dared me to be better, to do better. I now realize that the happy memories of high school are due in part to her. She has said that my younger sister and I were her practice kids. The saying practice makes perfect shows in her children.

Marietta, is my third mother. She was so much more than a mother in law. She gave me the example of how to be a wife to her son. I often say she is my Naomi to my Ruth. Her mirthful laughter gave me hope. Her quiet conversations instructed me and guided me. I am so blessed to have had her in my life.

There were many other ‘Mothers’ in my life. Mothers of friends who would love me and care for me. Those bonus Moms who would answer questions about wardrobes when I wasn’t certain. Those who would just encourage me with a hug and a kiss.

These women all shaped me to be who I am today. I am so grateful and thankful.

“My child, listen when your father corrects you. Don’t neglect your mother’s instruction.
9 What you learn from them will crown you with grace and be a chain of honor around your neck.” Proverbs 1:8-9 (NLT)

Women’s Heart

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As I have mentioned, I attended a Ladies Retreat this past weekend. I have been to several in my lifetime and each one has had it’s own unique feeling.

Most retreats I have attended have had a feeling of getting through the speaker and sessions so it could be playtime. It’s not a bad thing to do this, as the playtime usually brings women closer to one another and forms bonds that cannot be broken. This is what I expected to experience this weekend.

How wrong I was! Yes, there was the chatting and laughter and joking around. Those of us with husbands commented on our husband’s quirks and how irritating it can be. To a casual person passing, the comments could be taken wrong. But, in looking into each other’s faces and laughing over the quirks,(which we determined was a common thing among spouses), you could feel the love each woman has for her spouse. The quirks just made our husbands who they are and they are an endearing part of them.

Other conversations centered around body image, scars, tales of how the scars happened, and laughter. Lots of laughter.

Yes, that was the normal part of a retreat.

Interspersed with each conversation women’s hearts shone through. The hearts continued the feeling of worship and praise. There was a continuation of the services we had. A genuineness.

Usually prayer is only for after the speaker is done. This weekend, prayer was as common as the laughter. Prayer and care were evident in each room you passed. The laughter would lift and then quiet and peeking into different areas you could see women hugging, praying and crying with each other.

Yes, friendship bonds were formed this past weekend. The thing I took away was the care and tenderness displayed through the women. Women are quick to share and get to the heart of matters. We will listen to the pre-story, the lead up and then the heart of a matter comes through. The trust in one another shines forth and ministry takes place.

This was a different type of retreat. The bonds of friendship were made. More important, though, was the bond of caring, of understanding, and of love, which broke through the surface and knitted this group together.

“Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds us all together in perfect harmony.” Colossians 3:14 (NLT)

The Art of Motherhood

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“Then he said to the woman, “I will sharpen the pain of your pregnancy, and in pain you will give birth.” Genesis 3:15a (NLT)

Women understand this verse, especially if we have a child of any age. We can honestly say, been there, done that, have the memories.

Children bring not only pain, but joy, laughter, worry, gray hair. I could go on and on. I have two daughters, both grown, both mothers and both having their own memories.

This past Monday, my oldest daughter finished her radiation therapy for breast cancer. She was diagnosed at the end of last year with surgery in January and radiation beginning in March. I was blessed to be able to be with her for her surgery and for the bulk of her treatment.

As I opened a text on Monday seeing a short video of her ringing the bell after finishing treatment, tears of joy filled my eyes. She has been a rock star through this whole ordeal. Me? I have managed to fake strength and give encouragement, but most of all, I have prayed. The prayers did not make sense really, and most of the time they went like this, “Lord,? You know. Be with her.” Somehow I could not always make definite and flourished prayer.

But God.

God created mothers. He had one. He knows. He knows the struggles we, as mothers, go through.

I have been exhausted this week. I haven’t understood the tiredness. Today, it hit me. The tiredness of walking the floor with teething babies was similar to how I felt. The tiredness of waiting for your teen to come home in one piece, even though you knew they would. That stress was what I was feeling.

The art of motherhood is feeling those feelings. Showing strength when you have none. Showing courage and encouragement when you only half believe Romans 8:28, “And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them.” (NLT). Hiding the tear that escapes down the cheek.

Again, but, God. He answered my fumbled prayers and oh so many other’s prayers. They stood in the gap. They, like Aaron held up the arms for us. We felt them all. And God answered.

For now, the battle is done, for we as mothers, never know what will happen in the next hours. We were gifted our children. We were chosen to be the parent of each of our children. There is a reason for this.

Today, I thought of Mary, the mother of Jesus. She learned the art of motherhood from God Himself. She knew she was in for quite the ride with her firstborn. But, although she knew, standing at the foot of the cross while her ‘baby’ hung there for all of us must have taken such strength, and courage. When we look to the Bible for wisdom, we receive it, but sometimes it’s hard.

For those of you who have walked this journey with us, and our daughter’s family, thank you. Your encouragement and prayers have carried us through this latest adventure.

Devotional

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A few years ago we had a secret sister time in our church. We would gift little things all year long for one person, some guessed who their secret sister was before the year was up, but the fun was never broken. We continued with this for some time, but, eventually interest was lost and we no longer did this for the women’s ministry.

I was blessed to have as my secret sister the same woman twice. The second time she really threw me off and I never suspected who she was.

One of her gifts to me was a year devotional by Max Lucado. I love this devotional. It is now dog eared and worn, but each morning it is the first thing I read. Many days I smile at a corner turned down and I remember how it spoke to me in years past.

Today, I read a familiar story. I knew the story and how it would end, but I still gleaned something from it. It was still fresh to me. It was also like a family story told each gathering time. Family stories are like that, we hear them, we know them, we know when a pause is coming, when laughter is coming, when embarrassment may come. It’s family. It’s history for those sharing.

We have another ‘family’ history book. The Bible. It’s the same stories that are read, listened to, and told. Most we know. But, with this book, there is a freshness. Words that have been there since it was written pop out of a sentence and changes the meaning for us. It is fresh, vibrant, alive.

The title of today’s devotion was “Oh Daddy”. It told the story of a young girl rushing into her father’s arms for comfort. It also talked how prayer begins when we can fall to our knees and cry out, “Oh, Daddy” to our heavenly Father. And, like earthly fathers He is there to catch us. He will wrap His arms around us and bend down to assure us that we are safe in His arms.

Today has been a day where I am reminded that it’s okay to run to my Father’s arms and cry “Oh Daddy”

“So you have not received a spirit that makes you fearful slaves. Instead, you received God’s Spirit when he adopted you as his own children.[a] Now we call him, “Abba, Father.” Romans 8:15 (NLT)

Memories and Tears

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“And be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” Matthew 28:20b (NLT)

Last night we had a dinner at our church. The woman who planned and brought to life the event did so with perfection. The theme was Walking in Love. A sort of Valentine’s dinner which also served as a Pastor’s Appreciation. The food, decorations and time together was amazing. We also had a time of worship, singing older songs of praise. It was a precious time in the Lord. The song transported me back in time.

We lived in Bangor, Maine in Air Force housing. A two story home with a basement. White birch trees lined our yard. It was a lovely home and situation. Our oldest was almost six months old when we moved in.

As with most babies, nights were interrupted by crying and fussing. I don’t know why people say to sleep like a baby as they are usually awake at least three times during the night. Ours was no different.

As winter approached, when she awoke, I would put on my heavy bathrobe and slippers. I would grab her yellow printed quilt from Japan. It was a beautiful gift of a baby futon, not the foam kind we are used to, but a fluffy blanket that would be like a comforter.

I would head down the steps in the cool night and head to my bentwood rocker. Positioning ourselves and making certain both of us were fully covered and cozy. I would draw her close to me and begin to sing. We had a string of songs, some lullabies and a lot of worship songs. I would go through the line up of songs and then sing one over and over. There were no cell phones then to hold and keep me distracted. Only the darkness, my baby and my singing.

The song would quiet her and quiet me. It would calm my frazzled young mother’s angst. My focus would shift from grumpiness of being awake, again to the quiet joyful peace of sitting in a darkened living room with my baby.The wind could be howling outside, driving snow across our yard and building up on our back door, but, I was wrapped in the peace of quiet with a snuggly baby in my arms.

I haven’t remembered those nights in years. Last night we sang the song I would sing over and over. The song started and I sang, enjoying the song itself. As we repeated the chorus my throat stopped up, tears fell down my cheeks and I was once more sitting in the dark room holding my first born.

Our Lord is precious and kind. He recalls to us the times when, unbeknownst to me, He was beside me. Standing watch along with me as His beautiful creation of a child struggled with staying asleep. The impact that, in hindsight, I vividly recalled those seemingly endless nights, thinking all these years that I was alone, and I saw that He walked the floor with me and rocked with me also.

I am so grateful to have had that experience last night, in a crowded room and the Lord gave me this sweet, joyful, memory just for me. He knows each of us personally and He meets us where we are.

I love you, Lord
And I lift my voice
To worship you
Oh my soul rejoice
Take joy, my king
In what you hear
May it be a sweet sweet sound
In your ear

I love you, Lord
And I lift my voice
To worship you
Oh my soul rejoice
Take joy, my king
In what you hear
May it be a sweet sweet sound
In your ear

Joy in Listening

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“As cold water to a weary soul, So is good news from a far country.” Proverbs 25:25 (NKJV)

There is a friend of mine who lives on the other side of our country. We have been friends for years. I worked with her and her husband for many years, which deepened our friendship.

We have walked with each other through many difficult and dark times. We have laughed much together. We have wept with one another. We have screamed on roller coasters together. We have lived life together. She is family to me.

Next week Dale is teaching at our Wednesday night service. He has chosen his topic and wanted to be refreshed in some teachings from this friend of ours.

This morning they talked with each other. The phone was on speaker so he could take some notes and have his hands free to make references where needed. I sat in the living room listening to their conversation.

At first I was online scrolling through notifications. A normal part of my day. Soon, my attention went elsewhere. The voice on the other end of the line was drawing me in. The voice I know so well. As she spoke I was transported in memory back to a place where she taught and I listened.

The rhythm of her voice, the enthusiasm of the topic she was talking about. The excited exchange between Dale and her. How often did they do this and her husband and I just sat, drinking tea or coffee and smiled at each other, knowing they were sharing their hearts. The two of them both called to the same type of ministry.

Today, as I listened I was filled with joy and thankfulness. From this woman the Lord has taught me much. The gift she is from our Lord is a blessing too great to describe. The spontaneous joy we find when we are together.

Today my heart was filled to overflowing with the sound of a voice.