Tuesday, November 27, 2018

Keep flying or crash and burn?

      Some days its all I can do to just get through it. To fly under the radar low enough to not be spotted, because if I'm spotted I have some explaining to do. If I'm spotted I have some pride to swallow, because I am inches away from a crash and burn. Me, the one who is always trying to encourage others to look up. To trust God. To be victorious in the battles of life. To pray without ceasing. I have days I forget all that and focus too long on the trials at hand. I don't stop to encourage myself or remind myself of the truth.

      No one is immune to falling down. No one is capable of flying for long without taking a break to stop for gas and get some rest. And we weren't created to fly alone. As a matter of fact, if we find ourselves in the pilot seat, we've thrown the pilot out! We were made to inhabit the other seat - the one for the passenger. We need God to pilot for us. On those days when I'm having a hard time getting through the hours, I cling to Him because if I don't I find myself lying in the wreckage at the crash site wishing I had.

      I love to encourage others. I get joy from sending people cards and writing encouraging words upon them, especially those from God's word. But when it is me who needs to be encouraged I have a hard time because the words I say to myself aren't always encouraging. I tend to be hard on myself and judge myself harshly, thinking I should know better than to become discouraged. I can be my own worse critic. But the truth is, everyone gets discouraged at times, it's a fact of life.  But it is not where God wants us to stay. When I open His word and start reading, it doesn't take long before He has encouraged me. It's like He wrote me a note and sent it through the corridors of time to be opened and read right at the precise time I needed to hear His voice.

      He has also put people in my life who encourage me. People who see my faults and love me anyway. They can see beyond my faults to the woman God is creating me to become and they encourage me to continue pressing forward into His plan. We all need that desperately in a world that tears us down so quickly, and with an enemy who seeks to kill, steal, and destroy us at every turn. It's those encouraging words, those words of truth, that help us never forget WHO the hero of our story is, and that HE is the VICTOR, and we are journeying through this life with HIM.

      Are you flying low today? In need of some encouragement? You are not alone my sister. God is for you and not against you. He has a plan and a purpose for your life and it is good, so good. He loves you and He says so in His love letter to you. Open it and take a look. He desires to encourage you to keep moving forward, and continue becoming the woman He created you to be. Pull up! And keep flying, today is no day to crash and burn!

Grateful to share airspace with you,

Friday, March 11, 2016

The Best Dog

 The Good Best Dog

I got a call while out of town, “We got a puppy, black and brown!”
I wasn’t thrilled, to say the least. Puppies can be such little beast.
My house was filled with growing boys, clothes strewn in rooms and scattered toys.
I did not want puppy messes, but God is wise how He blesses.

When I came home they held him up, a ball of fur that little pup.
A house of boys and then one more, and this one pottied on the floor!
It wasn’t long till he was trained, and my affection he had gained.
For chewed up shoes he made a mends, and we became the best of friends.

He kept boys safe as they grew up, to men-from boys, and dog-from pup.
And when the grandkids came along, he became their guard, safe and strong.
Through years he watched me do the chores, patiently sat outside closed doors.
Waiting for me to lead the way, faithfully followed through each day.

He always stayed where he could see, he and God kept an eye on me.
I took long walks as he ran free, we’d rest beneath the big oak tree.
He heard my prayers along the trail, I talk to God- he wagged his tail.
I’d throw the ball, he ran so fast. I always thought his speed would last.

He seemed so young the other day. When did his muzzel turn so grey?
That puppy grew to be much more, than I could ever have asked for.
We buried him in grassy hill, this rainy day, dark and still.
The best of what a dog can be, was Harley every day to me.

Monday, February 16, 2015

Boys must grow up, moms must let go…and life is a vapor.

January 19, 2015

      As of today I’m an empty nester. When I first wrote that word “empty” I spelled it wrong, I guess because I’m not use to it. I’ve been mothering boys since the beginning of time, or so it feels like. Thirty nine years total –whew! You would think that would make me an expert, but it didn’t. It just brought me from one level of confused to another. Just trying to understand why they felt the need to be so loud, to wrestle each other to the ground, and hit each other with dirt clods, kept me in a constant state of prayer.

      Five boys in all. The last boy boarded a plane this morning and is headed out of the country, by way of Texas. Every parent wants their children to grow up and have a life of their own; it’s the way things are supposed to be. But do they have to go so far away? The last boy leaving wasn’t the last boy born. They get all mixed up like that. One goes and another stays…not in order, but as life takes them or brings them back.

      Last time I cleaned the room and moved my sewing machine into it, a boy moved back…then two. I’m wondering if I should just leave the door closed for a while. I’m not silly enough or superstitious to think if I clean it they will come back. Like the saying, “If you build it they will come.” But on the other hand, my sewing machine doesn’t want to go anywhere near it!

      Do you know what happens when years of noise are replaced with silence? Ringing in your ears! You can hear yourself swallow, and you can hear the clock ticking on the wall in the other room. But what you can hear even louder than the silence is your heart – beating sadly, missing boys.

      No one ever told me they would be my little boys forever. That no matter how big their bodies got, my feelings would never change. That my hopes for them, concerns, and even fears would not go away when they moved away. On the contrary, they increased. It is one thing to be in some kind of control, and quite another to have none at all. This is where my trust in God had to grow as my boys grew up and left, and this is where my knees must meet the carpet every day as I lay those fears down at God’s mercy seat and leave them with Him.

      I’m not sure what to do now. I have time. I have choices. It’s funny how your mind thinks, when you’re in the thick of things with your children. You dream of the days when you’ll have time alone, uninterrupted reading, and quiet. You think it will be so awesome. Well, it might be. I’m not sure yet.

      I have time to write now. Time to blog. But I can’t think of anything to write about but boys. It’s that clocks fault, the one ticking loudly on the wall in the room next to me. It keeps interrupting me; reminding me that time passes by so very quickly. Children grow up, parents get old, and life is like a vapor. If I had time to be depressed about it, I might be, but the point is, I don’t have time.

      If I’ve learned anything on this fast ride with growing boys it would be this – the day in which you are living is the most important day of your life, not tomorrow, and not yesterday. If I could travel back and tell my younger self a few things, I would want to include these: Don’t dream about how your life will be in the future, live the life you dream today. Do the important things today. Say the important words, share your life, your heart – today. There is only time to do the important things in life, so choose well, love well (especially those boys). And never, never ever, say good bye without a hug.

      Those are my words of wisdom as I sit here in the quiet, getting used to the stillness of the house without the loud footsteps of testosterone filled bodies moving through the space. It’s different, but it’s good. It’s the way things are supposed to be. I’m a little sad, but I’m ok. And I know they will be back to visit, because I’m their mom… and I have food.