Grandpa’s Shoes

My mom took this picture in a photography class 17 years ago. Shoes of my dad’s, my daughter’s.

She has spent her life following in Grandpa’s footsteps. From her first steps, where he went, she went. As she grew, he kept special hats and shirts for her, just like his. In fact, they were his… so she could be his buddy. Doing projects. Doing stuff.

And how he loved those footsteps following him. She is bigger now, obviously. Her steps are slowed with teenage pacing when she visits. No longer running after him with every step he makes.

Physically that is… Her heart still follows Grandpa. Every move, thought, joke. She takes it in, loving him.

Adoring everything about her Grandpa. And when her footsteps take her into adulthood, even if they are miles from him, the influence will carry her. She’ll remember the ways of Grandpa.

The way they built together, one step of love after another.

Who Will Fill My Lap?

Who will fill my empty lap? Around 5 years ago I became acutely aware of how fast childhood was going for my girls. I sensed the days of my lap having children in it were passing, almost imperceptibly. The heartache I knew would follow those days stalked me.

It is a difficult season to have your children outgrow your physical body. To push away as they mature, becoming young adults, yet needing to be able to jump back in when life got tough was, is, natural.

Mentally I get it.

But the longing stays. My body still aches with remembrance of the cuddles of my children.

There are new things now, exciting, fascinating dynamics in our mother/child relationships. These current experiences are wonderful too, in a different way. I enjoy their developing personalities, the strength of the wings that are starting to lift them away.

But my body remembers what my mind can forget. The precious feel of a child in your arms, the smell of their hair, the feel of grubby little fingers holding your cheeks, the “i yuv you” lingo. My physical longing is my reminder to pray thankful words to God. For the chance. For the good days, and with some distance, even for the difficult ones.

Who will fill my empty lap?

My wings are also gaining maturity. I will fly into a new season along with my children. Not after them, although I pray they’ll always be in sight, but into the winds of change God has in mind for this woman.

My lap empties and my wings begin to spread.

And for now, I will stretch those around my children as far as I can reach, for as long as I am able. And I will sneak sniffs of their freshly washed hair, and remember…the years of a full lap.

Don’t Wait For Death To Celebrate Lives

1 Corinthians 15:55

“O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?”

Yesterday marked the passing of my friend’s father.  He was a wonderful man, generous of heart . Ken Harrell not only loved his own family, but any human that needed a hand. He was that kind of man. I have been friends with his daughter for almost 30 years, and there was a time in my youth where he stepped in to fill a gap for me. All through my adult life when I went home to visit, he would eagerly round me in for a hug when our paths crossed.

I am heavy-hearted today, 2,066 miles away from my home roots. Unable to help my friend with the new reality of her grief. Unable to even attend the funeral. But I will pray, not for Ken…for he knew where he was going. I will pray for his family, left behind in the wake of his absence. That they will grow closer to the only true source of comfort in this life. Ken has sailed on, his path was set for Jesus.

I tell you this story to urge you not to wait to show people you love them.

The irony of death, to me, is the gathering of the departed’s loved ones.

Why, I muse with sorrow, do we often wait until death to celebrate someone’s life?

I would rather be together with my loved ones now, while I am alive to rejoice at our relationship. Come now, while I can hold you in my arms and laugh with you.

Life doesn’t always work out like we hope. Today, on a very serious note, I urge you to make that call. Book that ticket if you are at all able. Write that note. Celebrate life with the living, too often we postpone that joy. Looking at the impossibilities that seemingly block the way.

Love, as a verb, an action word. Not smooshed under the guise of good intention.

Use Those Tiny Photo Index Prints

Photos are returned to us with sheets of tiny shots, miniscule memories  we are unsure how to utilize.  Wanting to create a scrapbook layout about unexpected turns in life led to this idea. Cut out the ones that are most meaningful over a span of years, as far as you can gather up. Few dreams turned out as planned, but it turns out experience is a rich teacher.

This could be turned into a beautiful home wall art project. Try it, post what you come up with. I love sharing ideas with you…share with me how you use them.

Knowing About Jesus vs. Knowing Jesus

I have been learning to know Jesus for about 15 years now. It seems to be a common misconception that knowing about Him = knowing Him. This is opposite of what Jesus tells us in His word. Studying the Bible, it becomes clear that He desires a relationship with us. A friendship is what He offers. How do we build relationships with friends? By spending time with them, asking questions, sharing your hearts. That is available to us. All of us.

It doesn’t matter what we have done or who we think we are. Our backgrounds is irrelevant. They do not impress Jesus. He just wants whatever we have to offer, even if it is broken, ugly, or miniscule. As the relationship grows, our faith strengthens. It is an amazing experience. Defining. He is waiting for you. Wooing you. Yesterday He wooed me to Him on a sleepy, painful morning. Color is a gift to me, and He knows it.

“So glad you are up Christa…come sit with me.”

Psalms 143:8

Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you.

Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift my soul.

I read Joanna Weaver’s words today in Having a Mary Heart In A Martha World. She shares, “Jesus goes out of his way to prepare my heart to listen and learn. He waits for the moment I’m most ready to obey. And while I can still refuse him at any time, his rebuke is gentle. It woos me at the same time it disarms me, making me willing and open and ready to change.”

He is calling us to stop learning about him and start relating to Him. Today. It is the best investment of time we can make. The world will demand we do its tasks, but the quiet moments are where we build up our spiritual muscles. We relax, with our friend Jesus, and learn that our worship meets his wooing. In that connection, dynamic living is sparked.

A Simple Doxology

Do you know what a doxology is? It is popularly sung as an old hymn, you might recognize the lyrics.

Praise God from Whom all blessings flow Praise Him all creatures here below Praise Him above ye heavenly hosts Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost

The Bible says a doxology is simply a prayer of praise to God.  There are days when I want to praise but my mental acuity is flatlining. Days where I try again and again to stop, focus, and praise him.

And it just doesn’t work.

Not that anything is wrong, per se. We all have these days, where we just keep starting to sit down for some quiet time. And realize we are staring out the window. We read one line of our devotional, and then “put peas on the grocery list” pops into our head. The invasive nature of our surrounding life appears to trump our ability to be still. To focus on praise.

Isn’t it amazing that we don’t have to come up with clever hymns? That God isn’t impressed just with our intense prayer sessions, but is, according to His very nature, pleased with our meager attempts? Because sometimes meager is the best we can do. If you, like me, are stuck humbly (and let’s admit it, somewhat ashamed?) of offering the leanest of praise times…don’t stop trying.

My doxology today is simply, “God, thank you. Please keep calling me.”

It doesn’t feel like enough. Too good to be true. Maybe that is part of the lesson, that we do not have to be enough. Give enough. Focus enough. We just have to come.

Psalm 27:8 (NLT)

My heart has heard you say, “Come and talk with me.”     And my heart responds, “Lord, I am coming.”

Who’s That Girl?

She is foreign to me, yet someone I remember.  I know we share the same name, birthdate, life. She is me, before.

Before I became everything I didn’t know I wanted to be.

This girl, 16 years old, is between the ages of my own children now. The day is well-remembered; my Aunt Kim dabbled in photography and took me to do a photo shoot.  This girl had dreams of fashion design and travel. Modeling and acting. She didn’t dream of marriage and children. She wanted to escape her childhood and be an adult. And, she worked hard towards that goal.

Those efforts, naturally, came at a high cost. Adulthood was nothing she dreamed of, really. There was a period of rebellion with a steep price tag.

Fast forward, and I see her now. I feel for her as though she were my child. Her dreams are not my own. Not anymore. I am as far from those dreams as East to West. And glad for it. I am a stay at home mother. I homeschool. I am a devoted follower of Jesus Christ. I invest daily in my marriage (which, by the way, the boy she dated turned out to be the man of her dreams).

Nothing I could have even imagined to be, is my reality. I am a better woman for it.

My husband knew this girl. He loved her and he still does. Now he respects her deeply.We have forged out a life, uniquely ours. It has challenges. Abundant rewards.

And the thing that girl really did want the most. ..Inner peace?  Freedom? A rich life filled with things that matter? Oh, how those things are fulfilled!

She wanted to make a difference, and so do I. That is a dream that we still share, living a life that matters.

Do you remember who you were? What do you think of the adult you turned out to be?

2 Corinthians 5:17

This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!

Marriage…Interrupted

I am hearing frequent stories of married couples forced to be apart for work. Economic downturns have required many of us to take positions we’d never consider 5 years ago. We can relate to this, and although it is terribly difficult to get through, there is hope for the future. If you are in this position, reach out to people. Ask for what you need and be gracious about accepting it. If you know someone else, please share this with them as encouragement to know they are not alone.

Published in the Spring 2012 Issue of Eternal Encouragement (Formerly TEACH) as part of an ongoing marriage series I’d written. It is raw, for adults (thanks for skipping this post young reader friends)

Marriage…Interrupted

Barb’s husband could not find a contract locally and was forced to work in another state for almost a year, coming home barely every 3^rd weekend for 48 hours. Jeni’s husband has been working out of town, connecting with his family in person once a week. She has breast cancer, and a child with Down’s syndrome, and has had to mostly battle these things without him there physically. Tiffany’s husband has been looking for a new job for three years. In that time he has had to go where the work is, driving long hours to get home when he can.

My own husband came in quietly the other night. When I saw his face my stomach tightened into knots, dread filled my heart. We have faced upheaval many times for work and I recognized this as eminent. “Well,” he started, “work is sending me out of state for several months. Maybe we should start packing for you to come with me. We’d leave in three days’ time.”

A Family View

As women we are tasked with an enormous responsibility of setting the tone in our families. This can feel like a privilege on the good days when everyone is getting along and peace is pervasive. It weighs us down on the impossible days when nothing goes right and we are on edge with one another. We feel guilty when we don’t do it “right” and sometimes are too tired to appreciate the fruit of doing it “well”. At times we defiantly refuse to admit that we do indeed sway the mood of the house, after all we reason, we are just one of several.

Ahh, but step back with me a moment. If I journey down my mental categorization of the good and bad moments in our family there is often a clear influencer. Me. That is tough to swallow. I am a flawed being and my family has travelled the road of growth along with me.

Special Olympics Summer Games

We just returned from a trip to the Special Olympics to support my cousin. That is why we went, but it not why we’ll be going again every year possible. Turns out, that’s one of the funnest weekends our family has ever had. Hundreds of athletes, and make no mistake, many were amazingly athletic…meeting up to showcase their spirit and skill.

I was struck by the knowledge that out in everyday society many of these delegates might be stared at, misunderstood, labeled. Here? They were honored and valued guests. The heroes. They were loved, encouraged, and the givers of great inspiration. Each person was recognized not for their disability, but their ability. Allison, 100 meter walker. Chris, Shot Put Thrower. Sarah, Gymnast. It was beautiful.

As the athletes were awarded their medals, fierce applause rang out, often by the athletes. For themselves and for each other. Professional photographers snapping away. The experience was truly amazing.

And the Victory Dance, whew…do those Olympians know how to party! A DJ spun the crowd into a frenzy with the funkiest dance music imaginable. I have experienced countless fun things in my life, but this dance had to rate in the top 5. There was no way NOT to join in the fun. Every person dancing in their own way, without regard to self-image or rhythm. Even my decisively NON dancing family members boogied the night away. The energy was palpable.

When we were leaving my girls were hurriedly exchanging phone numbers and emails with their new friends. Genuine, solid, new friendships. They animatedly talked the whole way home about next year, every year after that how we had to come…how we could get involved in our own state…how wonderful each person on our team was. It was heartfelt. So next June, if you want to join us and get to know these Special Olympians, make sure you stay for the Victory Dance. Don’t let the party train leave without you…

http://www.specialolympics.org/