I thought of you today... (Col 1:17)

“Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, 'What! You too? I thought I was the only one”  - CS Lewis

I thought of you today. Yes, you. I was out today, being random, enjoying my new life, and I thought of you. I know you enjoy adventures, and being random. I thought of you when I was at the mall, sipping delicious, fru-fru coffee, looking at beautiful fall clothes and not buying overpriced sparkly shoes; when the survey woman asked when I'd last seen a movie; when I laughed at the Halloween decorations; when I was staring at the wine shelf in the grocery store, deciding what to try. I thought of you when I was at the antique store, the flea market, goodwill, looking for furniture and finding surprises. I thought of you when I passed the seafood restaurant, the taco truck, the sushi bar, the Thai place. I thought of you when I was driving on a beautiful, winding, tree lined road, windows down, music up;  when that song we laughed at came on the radio; when I was washing my car; when I got caught in the warm, splashing Virginia rain 20 minutes later. I thought of you in my neighborhood, when I saw the jogger with her brightly colored jacket; the dog walker tangled in her leash; the home-owner on his deck lighting a grill; the children on their bikes. I thought of you when I got home and saw the vase you gave me, the owl you gave me, the book you recommended, the scrapbook I'm going to make, the games we played on long winter nights, eating popcorn and watching movies. I thought of you when I did the chores I least enjoy, and remembered how we kept each other company. Somewhere, some time, I read that the only thing that lasts into eternity are the Godly relationships we build here on Earth. I know there's guarantee of that. Still, I am so thankful that God put us together. I pray that I can be a blessing to you, as you are to me. I thought of you today, and knew I was loved. Thank you.  [God] is before all things, and in Him all things hold together. Colossians 1:17

D-A-D-S. (Repost from father's day 2011).

Reposted in honor of my brother's first father's day.
You're turning out to be a pretty good dad, kiddo! Keep it up.  Your precious daughter is learning more than you can imagine, every day. 

___________________________________________________________________________

Today is the day we celebrate Dads.

Deciders

Answer-givers  

Dragon-slayers

Supporters

I remember when I was a kid there was a rustic, burnt-wood sign in our family room (suspiciously near the corner where I spent quality time when I was being 'lippy'  that said, "Anyone can be a father, but it takes someone special to be a daddy." At the time I thought it was just a cute play on words. As I grew up, I learned the real significance of that cheesy plaque.

Dads are the guys who stick around.

I've learned that dads are the real men. The men who make the hard choices. The men who put the needs of their children ahead of their own wants. The men who work extra hours to buy barbies and bycicles and prom dresses. The men who listen to endless stories about strange children and stranger tv shows. The men who teach their children to catch a ball, to drive, and to dance.

The men who are there.

As frustrating as it is for moms, it seems to be dad's praise that kids crave most. It's generally dad's approval they seek. It's dad's time that is most precious.



Perhaps that's because (for most of us) mom's love is a given. She is there. She is constant. She bore us. It's too easy to take her for granted (I'm not saying we should, but this is Father's day). Deep down, we all know dad had a choice.

Whether they know it or not, whether they accept it or not, whether we accept it or not, our dads represent our first impression of God, our heavenly Father.

Is it any wonder that some people turn from God, when their own fathers turn from them? That they fear God, when their own fathers hurt them? That they cannot trust God, because their own fathers betrayed them? This note is not for the rotten or evil dads. They are distortions; selfish shadows filling the world with hurt and hate. We don't celebrate them.

This is for the other ones. The ones who do the best they can. The ones we honor today.

The ones who teach us to see and hear God through the things they say and do.

Dad says "I want to hear your good news. I want to celebrate with you. I want to hug and high-five and shout when you succeed. I will cheer loudest at your victories and embarrass you with my joy."

Dad says "I want to be there for you during the hard times. I want to help you in any way I can. I want to fix everything so that you never have to suffer. Some things I cannot fix. I'm sorry - more sorry than you can know. But know that seeing you suffer hurts me, too."

Dad says "I want to keep you safe. I worry about you all the time. I will always protect you any way I can. And if the mean, ugly things of the world hurt you anyway, come to me. I will help you heal."

Dad says "No matter what you've done, I'm here. I'd give my life for you." 

 Dad says "I know there are things you cannot do. Let me help. I want to help."

Dad says "I want to give you everything you wish for. Sometimes I can't, but I want to. I want you to have it all. Anything I have - just ask."

Dad says "My greatest joy is seeing you. I love hearing your voice. I like seeing your face. Make room for me in your life."

Dad says "I love you, no matter what."

The card says: "Smile, 'cause Dad says so."

Thanks, dad(s) for being there. 

God is smiling on you. 

He likes what you're teaching us to hear.

A woman like... her!

There's a popular song on country-radio right now called "A Woman Like You," by Lee Brice. The fella in the song is teasing his wife, describing how different his life would be if he'd never met her. He shares his fantasies about football, fishing, and fried food. Check it out on CMT.com. It's actually quite funny.

What's that got to do with Mother's Day? Well, it's the inspiration for this post.

Look at your moms. Ask yourself, how would her life be different if she weren't your mom?

I can tell you.

She wouldn't have to wake-up early on weekends if she didn't want to. She could hang around the house in her pajamas, sipping and savoring her coffee, until she decided she WANTED to go out. She could read a book. She could sit in the garden that she planted. Or in her comfy chair in the livingroom she decorated lemon-yellow even if it isn't sensible. She could put her feet up. Relax.

When she's ready, she can throw on her "walking shoes," grab her mp3 player, and go for a walk in the park. No one to bundle up. No diaper-bags. No deadlines. No-one to rush back to. She might even stop off for a manicure, massage, or yard sale on the way.  If she gets hungry, she can grab lunch. Sushi? Sure. Salad? If she wants some. Or, having enjoyed a healthy walk, she might indulge in her guilty pleasure, fast food. Why not? There's no-one to set a good example for. Eating out, it turns out, is not too expensive - if you don't have to feed the kids. 

She doesn't always eat out, though. Her fridge is full of all of her favorite things. Fruit. Veggies. Salad dressing. Seafood. Steak. Chicken. Hummus. Yogurt. Cheese. A bottle of wine. There might be some frozen cookie dough in the freezer, between the tequila and the fancy ice-cream. The fridge isn't too full, though. Fresh food tastes best. So she shops by the week. 

Cooking is fun. She has all the high-quality tools to make it easy. There are no  little fingers to protect from the good knives or to keep the glass dishes away from. She can take her time and make tasty dishes. Asparagus is a regular feature in the spring, squash in the fall. There's no-one around to complain about it.

The decorations in her house reflect her taste and style. Carefully chosen over time, there's nothing tacky in sight. If she tires of something she can replace it. The same goes for her wardrobe. Her clothes are as fit and stylish and comfortable as she can find. She doesn't have to worry about sticky-fingers and sensible fabrics. 

She can go out on school nights. If she wants to go to a play or concert, she goes. She can find hobbies and take workshops without checking anyone's dance and soccer schedules. She can go to the movies without taking out a bank loan.  

She can also take off on a whim. She's free to explore the beach, the mountains. She can hike through a fort or explore a lighthouse. She can snuba or ski, hike or hang-glide. She can stay in a cheap campground that doesn't have a pool - or she can stay in a luxury hotel. She doesn't drive with an eye on the rearview mirror.  With a little planning, she can go to Italy. To Australia. Her vacation days get used for vacations not runny noses, field trips, or conferences. She has a travel budget, because she isn't saving for birthday parties, car insurance, proms, and college. It also turns out vacations are much more affordable when you only buy one ticket, and no mouse-ears.

If she chooses to stay home, she can watch DVD's, any time, no matter what they're rated - all the way through to the end. She doesn't have to fast-forward the scary parts or mute the loud ones unless she wants to. She can stay up until 11 watching prime-time TV. Or she could go to bed at 9. 

She generally sleeps through the night. No bellyaches or coughing fits disturb her rest. No nightmare-driven dwarfs burrow into her bed in the wee-hours.

It really *is* a good life. I know, because it's mine.
But you know what? I'd trade it in a minute for sticky-fingers, do-it-myself-facials, homemade art projects, budget stay-cations, and cheap, kid-friendly food.

So, next time you talk to your mom, remember... her life could have been much different.

You made her the woman she is today.

Happy Mother's Day.

"What's the motto with you?"

Mottos are funny things. You don't really choose them. They find you. Mine turned up on a ring I found in the clearance bin. A ring that just happened to fit my fat fingers, and was a style I like. Perfect.

It was also a perfect reminder of the mindset I'd decided to cultivate in this season of my life. Having finally recognized it was past time to stop wishing for things God clearly didn't want me to have yet (husband, children, a home with a view), I knew I needed to shift my focus to the life I actually have.


When I took the time to really look, I had to admit, the life I'm living is chock-full-o-blessings. I have a cute and roomy apartment in a wonderful suburban community. The kind of suburb that still has trees everywhere and no street lights. The kind that has apple-squeezes and Fourth of July parades and daddy-daughter dances at the community center. If I take a nice healthy walk, I can enjoy one of the best views around.

No, I'm not in the boonies, either. With my lovely car (another blessing, thankyouverymuch), and 20 minutes time, I can be just about anywhere. Work. Shopping. A variety of tasty restaurants. Movie theaters. Community theaters. Coffee shops (okay, those are less than 5 mins away - another blessing!).

I travel. That's something I'd have to do a lot less of if I had kids. I know, because my kid sister has 2 kids. I count them in my blessings, too. Even though they live on the other side of the country, I get to see them every year. Usually at a beach or pool. Joy!

My brother added another little blessing to the family last year. He's in a slightly different (though still far away) direction, so visiting him gives me a different vacation experience.

I have a steady job that I usually find pretty rewarding. In this day and age, that's a big blessing. I can pay my bills and still have a little "mad money" to play with. I know I should save more, and I'm working on that (but travel's just so much fun!). Even so, I don't feel stressed out, and that's a blessing.

My relationships are my biggest blessings, though. I get along well with my family. I have more good friends in my life today than many people have in a lifetime. My small-friends invite me to their birthday parties, school plays, concerts, and celebrations. We go ice-skating and do fun projects. Sometimes we even sneak off to McDonalds. My other friends (the grownups) like to have me over to rearrange their homes, cook (and eat) dinner, watch movies or tv, play stupid games (or dance to the wii!) and sometimes even solve a murder. I don't have to car-shop, eat out, or go to the movies alone unless I want to. I can borrow a cup of sugar (or a crock-pot) at just about any hour of the day or night. There's always somewhere to go, something to do, and someone to do it with. In fact, sometimes I have to schedule time home to do my laundry!

In short, I really do love the life I live. I just needed a little reminder.
A good motto will help you re-frame your world. Find one.

New Year's Resolutions

It's cliched, I know, to make resolutions. It is much easier not to break resolutions you don't make, so that's been my thinking the last few years. Avoid failing myself by skipping the whole thing.

This year, though, I'm taking a braver stand. I'm declaring some goals for the year, and stepping forward in full confidence that I can and will do what I set out to do.

So, in 2012, I will give myself (at least) 1 hour each day.

15 minutes to write in a journal, memory book, story, or blog.

15 minutes to read something uplifting, inspiring, or otherwise edifying.

15 minutes to walk & breathe.

15 minutes to meditate on how much God loves me.

Now, obviously that's not much time for any of these. Ideally, I'll find myself so engrossed I'll spend a little more time in each worthy pursuit. Yet I sit here, thinking over the last month or so, and recognize that such a small commitment will be a HUGE improvement from my recent past.

To tell the truth, my last blog post (Nov. 10) was the last serious writing I did (unless you count the endless Christmas-card letters).  I *may* have logged a total of 60 minutes this month reading a couple inspirational works by CSLewis and Brennan Mannering. Maybe. Most of what I read over my Christmas break was cotton-candy for the brain. I read the YA series The Hunger Games. I read 5 of those short Christmas novellas that magically appear everywhere this time of year. I read 3 magazines: Oprah, People, and Saturday Evening Post. I read a mystery by James Patterson. I read some of my favorite children's Christmas books. As for walking and breathing... well... um, yea. I live just under two miles from one of the most gorgeous views around, but I can't tell you the date of the last time I walked down to see it.

I can't even tell you how far I've gotten from really feeling God's love. Gasp, if you will, but be honest.  I'm not saying I think God doesn't love me. I'm saying I've gotten so caught up in "my world" that I've forgotten how to see that love. I expect to write more on that as the year progresses. 

My resolutions are tiny. I will, most likely, miss a step every so often (in fact, I didn't walk today). But even little things make a big difference. Like a smile from a friend.  One extra "snooze" in the morning. A baby. A pair of comfy socks. A cup of coffee. 5mph on the freeway. So, a little bit at a time, I resolve to spend the next year getting closer to the me I want to be.

The Gift of Time

I need to tell you something. Do you have a moment?

You might not like what you hear. Will you listen anyway?

Are you still there?

Okay...here it is...

I'm not planning on giving gifts this year for Christmas. Not to anyone over the age of 16. (Okay, 10, really, because there's really only three people I can think of in my life between 10 and 16, and I don't really know them well enough for personal gifts). 

So. Not buying Christmas gifts for anyone over the age of 10, then. 

How do you feel about that?

Did you - just for a moment - feel a little "gypped?" (Well? How would you spell it?)

Why? What did I give you last year? Can you even remember? Did that gift that I spent time thinking about, shopping for, wrapping, and delivering actually mean so very much to you?

I doubt it. Not because I think you are ungrateful, but because I can't really remember what I gave most of you. 

What I do remember is the time we've spent together this year. 

I've enjoyed helping you purge your closet. Getting out with you. Watching your kids so you could get out. Sharing a cup of coffee, a glass of wine, a plate of nachos, a slice of cheesecake. Skyping with you. Praying with you. Sitting with you at soccer games. Solving a murder. Watching a movie. Trying new recipes. Trying sushi. Trading books. Trading stories. Going to a play. Texting you from the airport. Sharing your grill. Driving with you to doctor's appointments and oil changes. Walking on the beach. Watching fireworks. Watching the rain. Walking and talking. Talking about walking. Planning and dreaming, and sharing life.

I can't find a gift that expresses what you mean to me. And this year I'm not going to try. I'm choosing to change Christmas. 

I hope you won't think of me as a Scrooge. I'm not doing this to pinch pennies, although, yes, in these lean times, the pennies do matter. But making smarter choices with my money this year has helped me really realize that you enjoyed that candle or box of candy or bottle of soap mainly because of what it represented. Yes, my friend, I know you do - in fact - believe it is the thought that counts.

I'm telling you this now, because I'd like you to take me off your Christmas shopping list as well. Please. I don't want gifts. This year, for Christmas, I'd like to focus on the time we can spend together. Instead of spending time shopping and wrapping, let's spend that time visiting together. Let me help you wrap your kids' gifts or hang your lights. Come to my place and watch a movie or have some cocoa. Let's enjoy each other.

Let's make Christmas as much about people and relationships as Thanksgiving is about food. After all, isn't that what God intended with his great gift to us? Jesus came so that we could be welcomed into Heaven, into God's home. The very best gift you could give me would be to visit my home. I'd love to have you! If that doesn't work, send me a card. Just a card. Tell me about you and your life since last we talked. 

Don't worry... I'm not swearing off shopping. Heavens no! I plan to spoil you completely rotten for your birthday. After all, that's the day God gave you to the world!  ;-)

I want to dance with you in Heaven

Dear one,

I know that you suffer. I know that you have been through some desperately dark times. I know that you have been judged harshly by men and women and children. I know you have made mistakes. I know that you have been abused by those who should love you, and used by those who should help you. I know that you have been taken advantage of, mistreated, and misunderstood. I know that you always have to be strong.

I know that you are afraid.

I know I don't tell you enough that I love you.

You have been there for me, always, when I needed it. You have a big heart. You care for others. You help when you can. You try to please everyone. You love to make children laugh and to put company at their ease. You would prevent all your dear ones from suffering if you could. Even those who mistreated you still have a safe place in your heart. You are gracious and kind.

I would share with you the most precious thing in my life - my faith. Please listen - just this once. I know you think you've heard it all before, but not from me. For that I'm truly, deeply sorry.

You see, I thought you would just see faith in me, and that would be enough. But I am weak, and my light is dim. My own choices sometimes make it hard to shine. So I am writing you this letter because I can't loose you without a fight.

I want to dance with you in Heaven.

Heaven is real. God is real. Jesus is real. The Spirit of God is my strength. This is what sustains me through my own dark times. Earth, this miserable, painful life we live here, is just the tiniest part of reality.

God made you. You will live forever. God wants you to live forever with Him. Jesus wants you at His feast, in His kingdom. He is preparing a place for you. For you. For YOU.

You have to want it, though. You wouldn't want someone in your home, at your party, around your children, if they didn't really want to be there. You wouldn't want a diva ruining your celebrations with her drama. You wouldn't allow an intruder to scare your children or destroy your home.

You can't come to the party if you don't RSVP. Jesus died to punch your ticket, but it must be picked up in advance. Every breath brings us closer to eternity. Choosing selfishness - my way or no way - is what keeps us from God. Sin is just putting self first. So, admit it. We've all done it. Put our own needs and desires and comfort ahead of God's wishes. I know I have. But I know that Jesus fixed that, because God knew I would never be perfect. Jesus was. As long as I can admit that I'm not, but that Jesus was, and can believe that Jesus wants me to come Home to joy, I am welcome at the party.

Please think about that. Because what we are talking about is the rest of forever. We will be forever separated. Our time here will be all there is for us. It's been hard not seeing you as much as I'd like here. If you can't accept that God wants you at the party, we will be separated forever. This time here will be all there is for us.

I don't like that thought. In fact, it breaks my heart and makes me cry. I would miss you. I like knowing you are there...just a phone call, a shout, away. Imagine forever. No pain, no suffering, no misery. Just joy. Walking together with the others we love, sharing in the beauty we were made for before our own stupid, sinful choices got in the way.

Why would you reject that? Fear? Pain? Embarrasment?
Would you let such trivial things keep you from me?

Believing that God created you, loves you, wants you to be in Heaven might seem crazy, but can you believe that I love you and want you around forever?

If you can't, it's my fault. I'm sorry that I failed to let you know how special you are to me. I do love you. I want to dance with you in heaven.

Won't you pray for Jesus to open the door?
I love you.