HEART'S CRY

Nursing homes are filled with the wisdom of the ages.   All one needs, is to listen. My Mom worked in a nursing home and I visited with the old folks watching the news before it was the time of day that my babysitter would take me.  In addition to wheel chair races, I learned to feel very comfortable and respect the words, stories and wisdom of the people. I worked in a nursing home through high school and college.  During the months that I was pregnant with my first son; it was the ladies at the home that gave me all of the advice anyone would ever want.  They listened to my fears and hopes and eventually held my baby shower.  Knitted and crocheted baby blankets still fill my hope chest from those precious ladies. Even the disconnected ramblings of a mind wearing down with age, if listened to carefully, carries a depth of knowledge that is missing from our face book world.    Listen.  The wisdom and depth of stren...

Am I available?  Physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually available to my family?  To God? Intentionally. Mindfully. Thoughtfully. Completely. Available. "Present and ready for immediate use.  Qualified or willing.  Present in such chemical or physical form as to be usable." Present. Ready. Qualified. Willing. Present. Usable. "We can't plan life. All we can do is be available for it." Lauryn Hill     I wonder what all I've missed in my life because I have not been available. Turn off the phone. Turn off the tv. Turn off the computer. Turn off the music. Turn off the frantic. Turn off the noise. BE Available.  Today.

My Mom used to say when speaking about her own experiences as a teen Mom that if the church wants to do something then "stop picketing and start mentoring young Moms."  Stop being against abortion and start being for life.  I think about that a lot as I have lived my life.  When I hear the news of aborted babies and when I work with Mom's and Dad's with semi loads of guilt and shame for babies that they have left behind...I know that there is NOT an easy answer. Even to say, "Don't have sex," can't be the only answer as if our words without belief and action carry any weight.  Rather I hope that it is a way of thinking and believing and being.   So here is my story, my passion and my plea. Choose life.  At all cost. Whether it cost you gold, silver, time, heart ache, disappointment, grief, loss, persecution and reputation. Choose life.  At all cost. Whether it cost you your comfort, selfishness, dreams, goals and des...

  I love Robins!  They symbolize the abundance of fall and the beginning of spring.   It is amazing the life lessons that can be learned by observing them. Right now my back yard is full of robins beginning to flock together.  They roost in the trees of my neighborhood and are stuffing themselves on ripe berries on my vines.  The two water baths that I made for them are increasingly popular as the young robins play, drink and wash.   Robins follow me around as I water because I tend to drop the hose and let it run for a while so they can feast on worms.  They eat protein in the morning as they hunt along my yard and through the leaf litter on the edges. Afternoon and evenings find them dodging in and out of vines and picking through my garden for leftover fruit scraps.  A favorite for them is the egg shells that I leave out or dry bread. During the summer they are busy building nest, laying and incubating eggs and car...

"Did you know you are my hero?"  I asked my husband this morning.  He said, "Your silly."   Hero status does not involve a cape or a tight costume....  Hero status that I've dubbed on my husband doesn't mean he is perfect.  He is not. Hero status doesn't mean that he is always easy to live with...he is not.  Just like I am not. My husband is my hero because he is: Faithful. Dedicated. Steadfast. Silly. Fun. He is also my hero because: He tears up coming home from our college son's football game. He laughs and teases our youngest. He learns to make a new sheath for my son's new knife. He runs upstairs when I come home with groceries to help me carry in. He tells my boys, "turn it down," when he knows a show will upset me. When I say, "Good night and I love you," down the stairs to the boys...he tells them to "tell your Mom you love her." He tells his boys, "Thr...

You know the one.  The one that is so intimate and strong that it aches in your belly?   A passion.  A dream that has been with you since you were a young, kept tucked away like a buried treasure.  Hiding it from even those closest to you for fear that it might not be taken seriously. When we are still...it kicks.  Wanting to be let out. We marry and we put ourselves aside to begin our family.  Our children are born and any thoughts of self are shoved to the back shelf.  Those rough and exhausting nights tempt us to take a peek at it.  Fear slams the door. What do we think will happen? What are we so afraid of? Where do we think this desire will take us? So we pin it down.  Shut it up.  We don't feed it or give it air and soon it quits crying out. Then we wonder why life has become boring.   Where is that girl that would go toe to toe with any challenge put before her?   Why can'...

That's it. They are ON my mind.  Driving around town or in the country...my eyes are drawn to them. I'm doodling them constantly.  During meetings, at work or watching football.  Roots, trunks, branches and leaves.  

 Faintly...I felt a stirring. Oh for the days when I might feel those first stirrings of life within me.  The flutter of a heart beat or the movement of small new life within me.  Bringing "being knit together" an entirely new meaning. I would slow my breathing and still my body just for the chance to feel to feel him.  To feel them. Small rumblings or stirrings; signs of renewal and new life.  Can I feel it again in this stage of my life where body is done and my home is becoming empty?   What about my husband who felt left out when I would cry because of it?   How do my friends whose longing for this stirring is the cry of their heart? Can God create something new in me again?   How will he speak life into my world once more?   To bring something out of nothing!   Light into darkness.   Life into meaning.  Meaning into life. Create in me a pure ...

My Father-In-Law called last night.  But I don't like this title.  He's my Dad too.  My Father-In-Heart. He called to talk to his "kid" and to check on everyone.  But he told me that he loves me and is proud of me.  He will never know how much that means. This man is almost 80 but you couldn't tell that by looking at him.  He has been a Marine, Air Force Para Rescue, janitor, electrician, roads department, band leader, boy scout leader, dance instructor and much much more.  He raised himself in real Tom Sawyer fashion.   I would put my money on him in any fight with anyone and anywhere.  He shares my love of the outdoors and Mother Earth News.  I tell people that he just gets me. I love that he worries about and prays for me.   I love him the most because so much of him is in his son.  The tender heart.  The gentleman.  The reader. The outdoors man.  The huge love for his son is not just seen but f...

Thinking about listening.   Listening without doing or thinking.   Listening for just the purpose of listening.   Listening with open mind and complete love and acceptance. Listening to God. Listening to my surroundings. Listening to my husband. Listening to my boys. Listening to myself. Listening at church. Listening at work. Listening with a quiet mind. Listening to the whisper and the loud. Listening to the emotion. Listening.  

Nothing like sickness to prune away the busyness of life and cut to the heart.  Yesterday, as I sat in my chair catching my breath...I just cried. And cried. And cried. Then my son texted upset about something I had said. So then I really cried. What a Wuss!!!!!!! Where were these tears coming from?  Lonliness and those feelings of inferiority creeping in.   You see busyness keeps me connected in such a way that I can forget about my heartache and lonliness for my family. Busyness is my way of proving to myself that I'm not an annoying waste of space or a burden.   Busyness is my excuse.  My cop out.  My camouflage.  My suit and my mask. Busyness numbs the pain of worry and fear.  Busyness is an addiction fed by my anxiety. Busyness is a sin.  An idol.  A cult. Being still sucks.   Being still to me is as dangerous as the birds on my waterbath and the bunnies in my...

Just do what is yours to do.  Draw a circle and step inside...that is the area you are responsible for.  Do your part.  Do what God has called you to do.  You don't have to be all things to all people. Etc. Etc. Etc. I've heard this all a million times.  Why isn't enough...enough?   Why is what I'm doing seem so unimportant and not enough?  What is it in me that has this insatiable drive to prove to the world that I am valuable and contributing? As an old evangelist once counseled, the best way to pray for revival is to draw a circle on the ground, then step inside that circle, and then pray, “Lord, revive everything inside this circle.” Let the awakening begin with us. Let the awakening begin with me. I've shared with you before my September begin again list and I've deepened that comittment today.     "Discontinuing" facebook was a big step.  I love having facebook in order to touch base with sisters, fa...

 A blog that I love to follow to get great ideas of books.  This week it is Pilgrims Progress.  A book that I absolutely treasure.  If you have not read this book to your kids...pick up the New English version right away!  We read this as a devotional and as a history lesson.  John Bunyan's life is a great model to us! http://www.read52booksin52weeks.com/2012/09/bw38-john-bunyans-pilgrims-progress.html Beginnning:  "As I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place, where was a den; and I laid me down in that place to sleep: and as I slept I dreamed a dream.  I dreamed, and behold I saw a man clothed with rags, standing in a certain place, with his face from his own house, a book in his hand, and a great burden upon his back.  I looked, and saw him open the book, and read therein; and as he read, he wept and trembled: and not being able longer to contain, he brake out with a lamentable cry; sayi...

My kids asked me once, "Why do you still water even when the pretty is gone?"  I was doing some fall watering on my perennials, shrubs and trees and they were confused.   "I want strong roots that will be ready to push up growth and make beautiful flowers in the spring.  Just because the pretty is gone doesn't mean that the plant is dead."  They shook their heads like I was nuts and kept playing. In this time of drought, our plants are focusing on survival instead of reproduction.  They have been stressed, fatigued and beat up with this dry summer.  If it continues...it will be really hard on them. I look at myself.  Having the flu and being restrained to my house has given me thinking time.  I feel like this in my life.   The pretty is gone. The energy bursting person is tired. The fatigue, stress and load has limited my production...And I tend to get in survival mode. I don't want to be still. And yet... ...

  According to a recent study published in the Journal of Consulting Clinical Psychology in June, 2009 by John Hopkin's Children Center, researchers found that the psychological damage brought on my childhood anxiety could be minimized or even prevented when families of anxious parents participated in weekly counseling sessions for cognitive behavioral therapy. They found that behaviors that contributed to their child's anxiety included: *  Over-protection *  Guild-tripping to control the child's behavior *  Possessiveness of children *  Low expressions of affection *  Poor communication with the child *  Excessive criticism of the child's behavior *  Excessive expression of fear and anxiety For more information: http://www.smartlivingnetwork.com   https://www.hopkinschildrens.org/index.aspx        

Today my heart is both burdened and uplifted by the heart of a mother and the worth of her tears.  A Mothers tears carry the passion, hope, dreams, prayers and burdens.  They are liquid gold.  The overflow of the treasure held within her heart. The mother who is expecting her very first child.  Fear weighs heavy in the heart of this mother who anticipates the upcoming responsibility. The mom with tears in her eyes whose battle through depression after the birth of her first child leaves her terrified and wracked with guilt.  Tears threaten in her eyes while her chin lifts with a resolution that only a mother can muster. A waiting Mother who longs for a child in her arms.  The ache in her heart threatens to tear her apart.  Please God, place a baby in her arms. A protective Mother who holds the baby that the hospital placed in her arms when the birth Mom left.  Courts and powers are threatening to tear this baby away.  Fr...

I've always thought that a church should be functional and full of children, family and activities.   A hospital for the wounded, broken and abused.  A place of belonging for the outcast, rejected and abandoned. A safe place to practice relationships. A welcoming and accepting place. A field to build skills and learn new ways of thinking and being. The world should not think that they invented inclusion.  That model was created by God.  He has been there and done that!   God is not the God of love and faith just for the world but rather the God of love and faith for the individual.  Sending His only son to seek, save and restore the lost.  He longs for every heart and every person to know His love and His presence. His is an organic movement.  Fully inclusive.  Fully divine.   So if you want us to exclude those children who might run or fall or break things then you just go talk to God about tha...