Hope, personified...

It's meant to be a reflective day, this final day of the year. Three hundred and sixty-five days ago we were all doing the same thing--being contemplative.
Perhaps some of us spend the day reflecting on the year that is finishing, and all we've survived. Some years are like that, aren't they? If you journal (or blog) it's fascinating to look back and view the trail of events throughout the months. In my reflection, I am always surprised to see what I survived, and how God truly walked me through things that I'm glad I didn't know we're coming. I might have run for the hills had I known in advance! But, I see His hand throughout, holding me close.

I took a look at photos on weather.com of the disasters from 2011. Wow! It was an eventful year! It made me thankful. Thankful that my family is together and safe.

I truly write from a thankful heart. Each moment of each new day, there is so much to be thankful for.

Though it is interesting to look back, I find it much more intriguing to look ahead. Though I can't see what's coming, I am full of hope--eager to see what amazing things God has in store.
I have a precious little Jack Russell named Lily who is hope, personified. Well, I'm not sure I can use the word "personified" about a dog, but you get the point.

She is so smart! If she hears me open the veggie drawer in the fridge and get out the veggie peeler, she will come running from across the house hoping that I'm peeling carrots--a messy job for me which means scraps for her. She also knows the sound of the cheese grater (another messy job), and just let me open a rotisserie chicken, or pull one out of a pot to take the meat off! How she can wait for hours with hope blooming in her little doggy heart waiting for one little possible morsel of chicken fat is beyond me. Nothing can distract her. She waits expectantly.

That is how I look forward to 2012. The outcome is unclear at this point. I don't know the events that will unfold. I do, however, believe deep in my very soul that God has amazing plans in store for me. That at the end of this year, I will see the bumps in the road that I have traveled over the year, but more importantly, I will see how I was delivered into a place of gratefulness knowing that I was taken care of. Because I always get much, much more than just a carrot peeling or a chicken scrap. I have feasted on blessings too numerous to count.

I have set some goals for the upcoming year. Not resolutions. Though I appreciate the concept of making a resolution, In the past, I have lacked the resoluteness to follow through. So I've set some goals. Things I want to learn. Ways in which I'd like to be better. To start, I have been memorizing Scripture. I leave you with a portion I've been memorizing this week. May it stir your heart with gratitude as it has mine.

Psalm 139

 1 O LORD, You have searched me and known me.
 2 You know my sitting down and my rising up;
         You understand my thought afar off.
 3 You comprehend my path and my lying down,
         And are acquainted with all my ways.
 4 For there is not a word on my tongue,
         But behold, O LORD, You know it altogether.
 5 You have hedged me behind and before,
         And laid Your hand upon me.
 6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
         It is high, I cannot attain it.
         
 7 Where can I go from Your Spirit?
         Or where can I flee from Your presence?
 8 If I ascend into heaven, You are there;
         If I make my bed in hell, behold, You are there.
 9 If I take the wings of the morning,
         And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
 10 Even there Your hand shall lead me,
         And Your right hand shall hold me.
 11 If I say, “Surely the darkness shall fall on me,”
         Even the night shall be light about me;
 12 Indeed, the darkness shall not hide from You,
         But the night shines as the day;
         The darkness and the light are both alike to You.
         
 13 For You formed my inward parts;
         You covered me in my mother’s womb.
 14 I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
         Marvelous are Your works,
         And that my soul knows very well.
 15 My frame was not hidden from You,
         When I was made in secret,
         And skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the earth.
 16 Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed.
         And in Your book they all were written,
         The days fashioned for me,
         When as yet there were none of them.
         
 17 How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God!
         How great is the sum of them!
 18 If I should count them, they would be more in number than the sand;
         When I awake, I am still with You....
         
         
 ...23 Search me, O God, and know my heart;
         Try me, and know my anxieties;
 24 And see if there is any wicked way in me,
         And lead me in the way everlasting."

A sad day, indeed

We said "Good-bye" today to our kitty. Seventeen and a half years ago we took in our very first pet--a precious gray and white kitten. In that much time (almost half of my life!), we enjoyed a legend and his many lives--far more than nine!

This was our cat who was declawed as a kitten and then decided he wanted to live outside as well as in. Our cat who terrorized neighborhood dogs ten times his size.
He climbed trees and ladders and played on rooftops. He hunted daily and brought us those yucky, dead animal treasures--all with no claws.

(This picture was taken just a few months ago as, at age 17, he waited for hours to catch some little creature. Eventually, he fell asleep on duty.)

When we moved across town, he moved with us and then came up missing. After about three days we found him on the front porch of our old house, surely wondering where his family had gone. How a cat found his way several miles back "home" is a bit of a mystery. We retrieved him and then it seemed he understood and stayed put to learn his new neighborhood.

He took naps in the middle of the road.
He got into fights with raccoons, opossums, squirrels, dogs, and other cats. From his battle wounds we got to see his insides several times--science class, right? We pulled at least a dozen ticks of our little feline.

He survived the acquisition of three more cats and two dogs to our family, and upon every new pet's arrival, he would just look at us like, "Really? We're doing this again?!"
He chased my kids when they were toddlers, and bit their little bottoms, and then snuggled with them on the couch.
He learned how to open round, metal doorknobs out of sheer determination, and even unlock doors when desperate enough.

He was truly the stuff kitty legends are made of, and we loved him dearly.

Loving a pet brings an awful lot of joy. And it brings tough days like today. Days that make you wonder about the worth of inviting love and the inevitable pain it brings in.
Life is like that, isn't it? The deeper we love, the greater the risk, reward, and then unfortunately, sometimes the pain. Makes you wonder about the guy who stated that it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
And then you don't.

At the end of the day, Rajah's Christmas ornament got hung at the top of the tree, and after some reminiscing and some tears, a couple of parents are wondering when we got old enough to handle the tough stuff like this.
And life goes on.
And we keep it all in perspective because, though this wasn't our favorite day, we are healthy and have more pets to love, and a whole family as well.

And, as strange as it sounds, it reminds me of a certain rhythm that life has. And that God is in control and knows and sees and cares--even about the little things that matter more than a little to our hearts.

And what a beautiful thing it is when hurting hearts are drawn together.

Spoiled rotten

Amidst all the hurry and scurry and buying and wrapping and baking and planning and parties and noise that is Christmas, there are some things running around in my brain. Maybe it's because I'm not doing much of these things this year, rather watching it all happen around me. 
As I have already shared in a blog about Christmas, we pare it wayyyy down around here. In fact, the only Christmas presents given this year are one per family member given via Secret Santa. With a small dollar limit, we all have had to get creative and thoughtful to buy for one person in this house. I can hardly wait to see who has who and what everyone came up with.

As a family, we were talking about the perception children have of their family's financial status. When our kids were little, money was often tight, but we did our very best to never let them know that. In fact, recently one of ours said they thought we were rich because of how many toys were in the toy room! 
The other day, Justin said that once, as a little boy, he had eaten stuffed crust pizza and heard it was more expensive than regular pizza so in order to never ask too much--though it was his favorite--he never asked for it again. We never knew this, and how much he loved it, so we never bought stuffed crust until recently, and now he eats it like he may never have it again. ;o)

I remember feeling guilty as a child because I needed a winter coat. I had heard my mom approach my dad with this need, and I can vividly picture the whole scene as my dad struggled with how to tell my mom he didn't really have the money for that. As a result, I tried very hard not to need too much.

We also talked the other day as a family about kids we have observed who get anything and everything they want.

Spoiled: to do harm to the character, nature, or attitude of by oversolicitude, overindulgence, or excessive praise.
Rotten: made weak or unsound by rot

Eventually, given all we want, we become rotten, and it has the potential to ruin us.

Have you watched the newest version of Willy Wonka lately? Next time you do, observe the different faces of the spoiled rotten. There is the over-indulged child whose weight reflects his need to stuff his face with all the junk he can fit in, and his mommy loves to watch him eat it all. There is the picture-perfect wealthy girl who demands from her Daddy, "I want it now!", and he gives it to her. It goes on and on...

"A happy childhood has spoiled many a promising life."--Robertson Davies

I've been guilty of buying my kids things to try to show them love. Haven't we all at some point? But, isnt the real trick to balance that desire for them to HAVE with teaching them to appreciate what they've been given? 
From an early age, we have taught our three to work for what they have. They all found ways to earn money and they save their money and buy their own cars and pay for their own gas and cell phones. 
Since this is not exactly typical, there have been times where we felt like really mean parents as our kids have had older cars than their friends and tracfones instead of iPhones. It's really not easy telling your kids, "no," is it? But, now, I have to say, the pay-off is bigger than I can imagine as I have hard-working, responsible kids who appreciate the things they have earned and know how to save money.
At times, I'm sure our kids felt like we were unfair, but now, they thank us for teaching them that money doesn't, in fact, grow on trees. I am quite sure that there was never a moment where our kids felt less loved than the other kids because we didn't hand them everything. They have always known that we just don't show love that way.

Do we, as parents, equate how much we give our children with how much we love them? Do they judge our love for them by how much they have? 

Is my standard for how loved I am directly related to what I think I deserve from someone? Who, then, determines what the standard is?
If I don't get the things I want, am I not very loved, after all?

Okay, now flip all this and think about how you and I behave with God.
He gives and gives and gives...ad infinitum...
We take and take and take...ad nauseum...and want more and ask for more and think we deserve more. And the minute things don't go the way we think they should, we figure we must not be loved that much after all.  Because what kind of God would say "no" to those He says He loves? What kind of Father would teach His children through discipline instead of spoiling them rotten with all the things they are sure are the best for them?
How many of us are the girl demanding from her Daddy, "I want it now!"?
How quickly we make God's love conditional and return ours to Him based on conditions!

I heard a song the other day. It really got me thinking. Some of those things we are sure we want and that we pray for may not be the best that God has for us. After all, His view of our little lives may just include a bit more perspective. As much as I think I want or need something, it may not be the very best for me. 

What if I'm so busy living for right now that I miss the whole, big picture? 

The truth is, most times I do feel spoiled by my God. He has truly been so good to me. Anything I have that is good has come from His hand. But, now, I rethink the word spoiled. That is not what I want to be. Basking in His grace and washed in His love. Grateful for His favor. Yup, that's more like it.
And when the metaphorical rain falls, He has a plan for me--much greater than what I can see. His promises are enough for me to hold on to.

Please, take five minutes and listen to this song. As a gift to me, please listen to this song, and tell me what you think.

Why Am I Here, Anyway?

“Spread the love of God through your life but only use words when necessary.” ― Mother Teresa

I got a tough phone call yesterday. It was from my cousin and she was calling to tell me that her mom, and also my favorite aunt, is quite ill. The doctors have said that she is full of cancer. I hate diagnoses. They don't leave much room for hope, do they? Unless, of course, you realize that just because it's said doesn't make it so. There always has to be room for God to do His thing no matter what any man says.

Anyway, this shook me up a bit. Here's why.
To say that my family was dysfunctional may just be the understatement of the year. On both my mother's and my father's side, there are a couple dozen messes. So much so that there were never family get-togethers to speak of, no one spent holidays together, or if they did, my immediate family was not involved.
Most on my mother's side do not speak to each other and haven't for as long as I can remember--that family is completely splintered. In short, if I had lived in Tennessee once upon a time, I may have been named Hatfield or McCoy.
My dad had four brothers. Put them together and they looked like they were mafia brothers.

(My dad (Ralph), Uncle Marv, Uncle Harry, Uncle Stan around 1981)

Simply the funniest people you'd ever meet. I loved them all dearly. Get those four together and the hysterical belly laughter could soften the hardest of hearts. Except my mother apparently. It never quite got said, but there is a reason that my dad began to be very isolated from the group, and I'm quite sure it had to do with her. We stopped having family Christmases with my dad's side when I was probably three. And the times the brothers were together were few and far between from there.

(This is me and my Uncle Harry at one of the last Christmases our family spent with my dad's side)

So, needless to say, some of my almost sheer panic when I first began attending the GIANT gatherings that my husband's families held, may have been just because I had never experienced such a thing. To be surrounded by people who actually liked each other and so very many of them completely overwhelmed this girl!

Then, in the more recent past, add to the mix the fact that no one from either side really knew much at all of what I lived with in regards to my parents and the circumstances in which they died--well, let's just say most of my parents' families had no clue what to do with me, and several want nothing to do with me.
Except a certain few that I can count on one hand. And, boy, did they do their best to love me. My Aunt Doris and Uncle Harry began calling me and coming to visit me and making a sincere effort in my childrens' lives. Aunt Doris staunchly defended me when it was necessary and her family showed their support as well. She would kiss me square on the mouth and tell me how much she had always loved me and say, "Honey, none of us will ever know what you went through, but I always knew something wasn't right." As an adult, I got to know an aunt that I never even knew I had.

She was one of the "gap-fillers" God has given me here and there just to show me what real love feels like.

A word has been on my mind lately.
PURPOSE--Noun: The reason for which something is done or created, or for which something exists.
I was thinking about this word today as I prayed for my aunt and her family, and I realized something. I did not get the privilege to know my aunt or uncle, or any of my cousins, for that matter, very well when I was little. I don't know what she accomplished or may be known for. I know she makes great baked beans and grilled cheese (she told me a couple of her secrets for their yumminess), but beyond that, all I know is how she makes me feel. She simply loves me. I have a feeling that if I asked her daughters and grandkids, they might say the very same thing. In her own special way, she just took care of everyone around her. She found purpose in taking an orphaned niece under her wing. When she gets to heaven, I know she will grasp how priceless that was to me.

Some times we know exactly what our purpose is. After I wrote this post about purpose, I spent time with a friend who is absolutely giddy because she knows that she knows exactly where God has placed her for such a time as this. I had to come back and write that in because there are times when purpose is very evident and exciting.
But, more often than not, I see people wrestle with knowing their purpose.
Think of a man age 50 and beyond who may not know where in the world he is supposed to lead and you will see exactly what I mean. I watched my dad slide downhill as soon as he thought he lost his value. I've seen it many, many times.
Listen to the cry of the heart of a stay-at-home momma who wonders if wiping bottoms and washing dishes is all she is good for.
The examples are truly endless. We all wrestle at some point or another with where we fit in. And if we know God has plans for us, many times we are desperately searching for meaning and purpose.
There is a big lie being sold to a starving market. It comes in a million shiny packages and whatever it looks like to one person, whatever bar they have set for themselves and labeled "SUCCESS" makes everything else look shabby and worthless.
This bar may be wealth, or accomplishment. It can come in the form of items or achievements. But whatever "it" is, it says that anything less is a failure.

What if success doesn't look like a house or car or even a successful ministry? What if success cannot be defined by net worth or gained in any collegiate course?
What if it's a simple as this: that at the end of the day, everyone you came into contact with felt loved?

“Everytime you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing.”

We can run in circles our whole lives trying to look successful and find our grand purpose. Or we can follow in the footsteps of One Who spent His entire life pouring out love on everyone around Him--deserving or not.
He gave us each a certain area of effectiveness. The Bible calls them talents. The story is a good one and it is found in Matthew 25:14-30. Around here, we talk about this often. What are my "talents"? I don't mean this literally, as in how am I talented, rather, what has God given me that I am responsible to take care of? How do I serve well with what I have been given so that I am found worthy of more?
More chances to love and to serve, not to acquire. More chances to honor the Giver of all good gifts by treating well the gifts I've been given.

“Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.”

What if my purpose is just to pour out love? What if everyone God put into my life felt loved by me, and every day I listened carefully for the whisper of my Creator to put me in the path of someone who just needed to know what love felt like--wherever that should take me?

What if I was made just for that? It worked pretty well for Jesus, didn't it?
It's so simple, but is it enough? If my name was never up in lights for being the most and best of anything, did I fulfill my purpose? Was I a success?

I hope I get to tell my Aunt Doris what a success I think she has been. How she had a hand in shaping one, very grateful heart.

“Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us begin.”

If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don't love, I'm nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate. If I speak God's Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, "Jump," and it jumps, but I don't love, I'm nothing. If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don't love, I've gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love.--1 Corinthians 13:1-3

“I am not sure exactly what heaven will be like, but I know that when we die and it comes time for God to judge us, He will not ask, 'How many good things have you done in your life?' rather He will ask, 'How much love did you put into what you did?”

“What can you do to promote world peace? Go home and love your family.”


*All quotes by Mother Teresa