Warren and I are thinking about buying a lake house but we just can't decide...something feels off. I think of all the other places we could spend our money. And I feel like we are giving upon our dream of a house at the beach. I feel so close to God there.
I grew up with a lake house. I have so many great memories of my summers there on Jimmerson Lake in Indiana. Playing out side long after dark, chasing fireflies, fishing off the dock, taking my little 16' aluminum bout out and reading in a cove where the otters played, jumping off of the dam and swimming under it when the water was low enough. The friends who didn't know me from "home" so I wasn't stereotyped I was just me. Sitting by the outdoor fireplace long before they were in fashion and listening to the latest record that was bought - when Michael Jackson was cool...swimming out to the swim raft and climbing up on to it before the little fishes could nibble at my toes - that always tickled and freaked me out!
I thought I wanted my girls to have these same kind of memories. But then I went on the internet and looked a pictures of the houses there and was flooded by memories.
I just realized what I really want is to go back to that time for myself. Right now. The urge and desire is so strong tears are burning my eyes. I loved that place...those friends...the way my family interacted when we were there. It was like we were all different people there - I loved who we were.
I need to let go of the desire to make my memories the girl's memories. I need to create the best memories for MY family now.
But boy do I wish I could go back to those lazy days at the lake!
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Friday, June 19, 2009
Nature is Harsh
I know, I know, a couple of days ago I wrote about how nature makes my heart stop. Last night it made it not only stop, but break.
The family of owls (5 that I can count) was hunting at their normal time and I was watching with awe as I usually do. I was looking up at my song bird feeding area and watching the mama cardinal take a break from her nest I saw the feeders were low so I went to fill them As I walked from the garage around the side of the house I caught the owls grabbing the two babies from her nest. I don't know where papa was. Perhaps they had eaten him as well.
I chased the owls away and ran to the nest to find it empty. Mama returned to discover the same thing and flew to a nearby tree to begin calling to papa. There was no answer.
During the night at roughly 30 minute intervals mama would call out to her family. It was so sad. This morning there is no chirping for me to hear. I have very few birds at the feeders. I don't think the cardinal family was the only casualty last night. My yard is filled with sorrow and my heart breaks for all of those parents that lost their children last night.
Warren says they'll lay new eggs and life will go on but I don't thin it is that easy. I truly feel these birds morning their loss. I don't think this is any easier for the animal kingdom than it is for us.
Hearts break and nature is harsh.
The family of owls (5 that I can count) was hunting at their normal time and I was watching with awe as I usually do. I was looking up at my song bird feeding area and watching the mama cardinal take a break from her nest I saw the feeders were low so I went to fill them As I walked from the garage around the side of the house I caught the owls grabbing the two babies from her nest. I don't know where papa was. Perhaps they had eaten him as well.
I chased the owls away and ran to the nest to find it empty. Mama returned to discover the same thing and flew to a nearby tree to begin calling to papa. There was no answer.
During the night at roughly 30 minute intervals mama would call out to her family. It was so sad. This morning there is no chirping for me to hear. I have very few birds at the feeders. I don't think the cardinal family was the only casualty last night. My yard is filled with sorrow and my heart breaks for all of those parents that lost their children last night.
Warren says they'll lay new eggs and life will go on but I don't thin it is that easy. I truly feel these birds morning their loss. I don't think this is any easier for the animal kingdom than it is for us.
Hearts break and nature is harsh.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
For about the past 30 years I have loathed Father’s Day. Since the girls have come in to our lives I’ve suffered silently and cried alone – I didn’t want to ruin it for Warren. Why do I hate it so much? For those of you who don’t know my story, my father died on Father’s Day when I was 7. I was sitting on his lap and we were laughing when he had a massive heart attack – the second in 3 years.
There is a quote by Anne Sexton that I love; “It doesn’t matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was.” Unfortunately for me, those memories have faded over the years and I am left with pictures that I cherish to try and remember. Sometimes I make up stories to go with the pictures and try to fool myself that I really do remember. But, who he was to me is burned in to my soul. He was a kind, compassionate, and gentle man. He was a patient man but could be quick tempered – and boy was it a temper – with those who should have known better. He loved the Lord and he was crazy in love with me.
It took the Emmaus weekends and Family to help me overcome my anger and bitterness at God for yanking him away from me before we were finished. But I continue to wonder even know; is that how people felt when Jesus was taken? The disciples? Mary Magdalene, Mary, His earthly family? All of his followers? On and on and on…Did they feel cheated? Did they feel robbed, that their time together was too short – that they weren’t finished? There was so much more to learn and do! Did they beg God for just a little more time… just a little bit longer…please? Did we share the same anger, frustration and bitterness?
Why? Why when we love God and worship him do we have to feel this way? Is it right? No. Is it fair? No. Is it love? Yes. As crazy as it sounds, God is crazy about us – just as my father was crazy about me. As we’re told in Matthew 10:30 He knows how many hairs are on our head – now that is a Father’s love!
My father taught me many things, and although it took me 27 years; how to cope, deal with and live through pain was one of them. How I chose to live my life is a tribute to the rest of his lessons. Jesus’ followers had to learn the same lessons. While our lessons are sometime one’s we would rather avoid, our Father – earthly and more importantly Heavenly – has laid the foundation in our hearts that allow us to be reflections of their love.
Like many people, I often would wonder why God let bad things happen until one day I visualized a picture hanging in my mom’s house. It states “God doesn’t promise us an easy life, He promises us help to live it.” As the years have passed I have grown to understand what many of Jesus’ followers did also in the time following the crucifixion: God doesn’t let bad things happen, but He is with us while they are happening. We have to acknowledge His presence and thank him, not for the bad things, but for being with us, helping us through it. That’s what family does. That’s what my Fathers do for me – it just so happens they’re both doing it from heaven.
So, I don’t loathe Father’s Day any more, we really don’t make a big deal out of it. We go to church, much like every Sunday, but I worship differently, more deeply. I spend a lot of time talking to my Heavenly Father through out the day. He’s as crazy about me as I am Him. I’m definitely a “Daddy’s Girl”.
There is a quote by Anne Sexton that I love; “It doesn’t matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was.” Unfortunately for me, those memories have faded over the years and I am left with pictures that I cherish to try and remember. Sometimes I make up stories to go with the pictures and try to fool myself that I really do remember. But, who he was to me is burned in to my soul. He was a kind, compassionate, and gentle man. He was a patient man but could be quick tempered – and boy was it a temper – with those who should have known better. He loved the Lord and he was crazy in love with me.
It took the Emmaus weekends and Family to help me overcome my anger and bitterness at God for yanking him away from me before we were finished. But I continue to wonder even know; is that how people felt when Jesus was taken? The disciples? Mary Magdalene, Mary, His earthly family? All of his followers? On and on and on…Did they feel cheated? Did they feel robbed, that their time together was too short – that they weren’t finished? There was so much more to learn and do! Did they beg God for just a little more time… just a little bit longer…please? Did we share the same anger, frustration and bitterness?
Why? Why when we love God and worship him do we have to feel this way? Is it right? No. Is it fair? No. Is it love? Yes. As crazy as it sounds, God is crazy about us – just as my father was crazy about me. As we’re told in Matthew 10:30 He knows how many hairs are on our head – now that is a Father’s love!
My father taught me many things, and although it took me 27 years; how to cope, deal with and live through pain was one of them. How I chose to live my life is a tribute to the rest of his lessons. Jesus’ followers had to learn the same lessons. While our lessons are sometime one’s we would rather avoid, our Father – earthly and more importantly Heavenly – has laid the foundation in our hearts that allow us to be reflections of their love.
Like many people, I often would wonder why God let bad things happen until one day I visualized a picture hanging in my mom’s house. It states “God doesn’t promise us an easy life, He promises us help to live it.” As the years have passed I have grown to understand what many of Jesus’ followers did also in the time following the crucifixion: God doesn’t let bad things happen, but He is with us while they are happening. We have to acknowledge His presence and thank him, not for the bad things, but for being with us, helping us through it. That’s what family does. That’s what my Fathers do for me – it just so happens they’re both doing it from heaven.
So, I don’t loathe Father’s Day any more, we really don’t make a big deal out of it. We go to church, much like every Sunday, but I worship differently, more deeply. I spend a lot of time talking to my Heavenly Father through out the day. He’s as crazy about me as I am Him. I’m definitely a “Daddy’s Girl”.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Why...
I live in a beautiful place and with all of the rain we've had this summer nature is really incredible!
I have a deer and an owl that come to my yard to eat every evening. There is a hawk that roosts on my children's play set and a nest of Cardinals in the Butterfly Bush beneath my daughters window.
Every day that I see them it makes my heart flutter - it is so exciting. I wonder why that never gets old for me? I sit and wait for them and each night when they appear and every morning when they begin to sing I get giddy.
I can't even believe that heaven will be more beautiful than this!
I have a deer and an owl that come to my yard to eat every evening. There is a hawk that roosts on my children's play set and a nest of Cardinals in the Butterfly Bush beneath my daughters window.
Every day that I see them it makes my heart flutter - it is so exciting. I wonder why that never gets old for me? I sit and wait for them and each night when they appear and every morning when they begin to sing I get giddy.
I can't even believe that heaven will be more beautiful than this!
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Beautiful eyes and a kind face
This story is long overdue, in fact if my friend Tom were to write it the words would be more eloquent...
Warren and I were headed off to the beach over Memorial Day weekend with some friends. This was the first time we had ever left the girls like this so naturally there was some apprehension. This got off to a great start and conversation was effortless.
At the half way mark, we stopped at a gas station / Wendy's combo. for something to eat. Being carsick dictated that I needed something salty and a coke - not that I'm high maintenance at all...
As we were walking in I noticed an old, very used but still in great condition, Army duffel bag laying next to the door. My mind began to wonder....a motor cycle rider? Someone hitching a ride up 95 with a trucker?
Everyone headed straight to the bathroom, but I went to stand in line...the coke was calling.
As I stood alone I saw him. He had the kindest eyes I'd ever seen and his blond hair was full of curls that any woman with straight hair would kill for! And he was dirty. Not dirty from lack of bathing, but road grim. I knew who the owner of the duffel bag was. He met my gaze and I smiled. He smiled back a little tentatively. I don't know what the hold up was in the bathrooms, but the line to the counter was moving quickly and neither Warren nor our friends were out of the bathroom so I stepped aside and let people pass.
I offed to let "kind eyes" pass, but he declined. Said he was waiting for someone too...
My "posse" finally appeared and we ordered. I kept watching "kind eyes" to see if his companion ever showed up, but no one did. As Warren was filling paper ketchup bowls I whispered to him that we needed to buy the man dinner. Warren asked who I was talking about and I met "kind Eyes" gaze again and smiled and said "him". I started to walk toward him, but Warren called my back and said he would take care of it. He didn't want me to go offer some deranged serial killer dinner. I knew the man would never hurt me. His eyes told it all. And his smile was so gentle. Warren went over and began talking with the man, quickly putting him at ease as is his way and I went to sit down with our friends.
When Warren joined us he was upset that he hadn't noticed the man himself, but was thankful that we had helped him. I was thankful Warren was my husband. He didn't laugh or scoff at my suggestion, but followed through with an open heart. We blessed the meal and lifted a special prayer for "kind eyes" in his journey.
As we ate, "Kind eyes" met my gaze and offered his thanks. I wanted to invite him over to eat with us and still regret that I didn't. Before we left I refilled my coke and walked past him (which was my intention) so that I could offer him one last smile. He looked up, with his eyes fully of love and said "thank you" I just gave a smiling nod and said "be safe". I hope my smile radiated all of the love that was bursting from my heart for this man.
As I think about this man still I wish I would have hugged him good-bye. I hope my eyes and smile did this for me. I think about him often and wonder where he is. I hope he finds others to help him. I know when he said he was waiting for someone he was waiting for me. I hope the others he is waiting for will notice him beyond the clothing and road grime.
His beautiful eyes and kind smile still haunt me. But not in a bad way, rather they comfort me. I know he was Jesus. I know he was there to say I needed you here and you came. I thought about him all weekend away from the girls and knew I could not have served this man if I wouldn't have left them.
I saw God that day.
Warren and I were headed off to the beach over Memorial Day weekend with some friends. This was the first time we had ever left the girls like this so naturally there was some apprehension. This got off to a great start and conversation was effortless.
At the half way mark, we stopped at a gas station / Wendy's combo. for something to eat. Being carsick dictated that I needed something salty and a coke - not that I'm high maintenance at all...
As we were walking in I noticed an old, very used but still in great condition, Army duffel bag laying next to the door. My mind began to wonder....a motor cycle rider? Someone hitching a ride up 95 with a trucker?
Everyone headed straight to the bathroom, but I went to stand in line...the coke was calling.
As I stood alone I saw him. He had the kindest eyes I'd ever seen and his blond hair was full of curls that any woman with straight hair would kill for! And he was dirty. Not dirty from lack of bathing, but road grim. I knew who the owner of the duffel bag was. He met my gaze and I smiled. He smiled back a little tentatively. I don't know what the hold up was in the bathrooms, but the line to the counter was moving quickly and neither Warren nor our friends were out of the bathroom so I stepped aside and let people pass.
I offed to let "kind eyes" pass, but he declined. Said he was waiting for someone too...
My "posse" finally appeared and we ordered. I kept watching "kind eyes" to see if his companion ever showed up, but no one did. As Warren was filling paper ketchup bowls I whispered to him that we needed to buy the man dinner. Warren asked who I was talking about and I met "kind Eyes" gaze again and smiled and said "him". I started to walk toward him, but Warren called my back and said he would take care of it. He didn't want me to go offer some deranged serial killer dinner. I knew the man would never hurt me. His eyes told it all. And his smile was so gentle. Warren went over and began talking with the man, quickly putting him at ease as is his way and I went to sit down with our friends.
When Warren joined us he was upset that he hadn't noticed the man himself, but was thankful that we had helped him. I was thankful Warren was my husband. He didn't laugh or scoff at my suggestion, but followed through with an open heart. We blessed the meal and lifted a special prayer for "kind eyes" in his journey.
As we ate, "Kind eyes" met my gaze and offered his thanks. I wanted to invite him over to eat with us and still regret that I didn't. Before we left I refilled my coke and walked past him (which was my intention) so that I could offer him one last smile. He looked up, with his eyes fully of love and said "thank you" I just gave a smiling nod and said "be safe". I hope my smile radiated all of the love that was bursting from my heart for this man.
As I think about this man still I wish I would have hugged him good-bye. I hope my eyes and smile did this for me. I think about him often and wonder where he is. I hope he finds others to help him. I know when he said he was waiting for someone he was waiting for me. I hope the others he is waiting for will notice him beyond the clothing and road grime.
His beautiful eyes and kind smile still haunt me. But not in a bad way, rather they comfort me. I know he was Jesus. I know he was there to say I needed you here and you came. I thought about him all weekend away from the girls and knew I could not have served this man if I wouldn't have left them.
I saw God that day.
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