Tuscan Moments

My friends kept telling me to watch Under the Tuscan Sun.
After much balking, I did.
Verdict?
I hated watching the aftermath of a divorce!   I had lived it,
and that was enough for me!  So… I suffered through it, grumbling
all the while and thinking that this movie had better get better!

Ok… if you haven’t seen it… feel free to change the channel!
But, basically, this newly divorced woman broke down and shared with a new friend,
about all the dreams that she had lost.
She wanted to have her house filled with family, children and to have a wedding in the backyard.

Well, by the end of the movie, a dear friend who was to become a single mother,
came and moved in with her and gave birth. Next, she opened her heart to this orphaned young man, and
told him that she would be his family and helped him to whoo a young girl. Then, while she
was in her backyard, watching all the guests during the young man’s wedding,
her friend says, “You know, you got everything you wished for”!
BAM! family, children, wedding, love…

My own mind flashed back to all of my dreams.
The ones where I wanted to be loved, wanted to feel beautiful, wanted to feel
whole, complete… wanted someone to help me with my computer, my house, parenting, and to travel with… etc.
Then in one Tuscan Moment… I realized.  I’d got everything I’d wished for too!
Isn’t it funny how God answers those dreams?  ….Perhaps we don’t recognize them.
Maybe we picture it wrapped up in the form of a husband or child… but instead, it comes encased as
friends or neices,nephews,grandkids.
If we don’t look carefully, we may miss it, just
because itlooks a little bit different.
Fulfillment sometimes looks different,
Under a Tuscan Sun.

Twirling

Twirling

“Life is a series of problems: Either you are in one now, you’re just coming out of one, or you’re getting ready to go into another one. The reason for this is that God is more interested in your character than your comfort; God is more interested in making your life holy than He is in making your life happy.” -Rick Warren

DEPRESSING! Yes, I said it… but, you know you thought it!

When you’ve come out of a “problem” and made it through alive, you don’t really want to be reminded that there will be another one! So when I read the part about “you’re getting ready to go into one”, inwardly I cry… “oh, not yet!”

So many of us are drained from years in a problem or even more sadly, those years in hell, where our very souls were assaulted, and we had nothing more we could do but cling to the maker and let him wipe the tears as he carried us along.

Then, eventually, he set our feet down, oh so gingerly on a mountain. Then,like an invalid who forgot how to walk, we took a fragile step… and another, until we found our arms stretched out wide, head thrown back as we twirled and twirled, letting our legs come alive, as our lungs drank in breath.

I don’t know about you. But, I’m twirling with my hair floating in the breeze (hey, it’s my analogy… so I can have long hair if I want to!)

I don’t look forward to that next problem although I know it will come.

But for now,

I wanna laugh.

I wanna dance.

I wanna twirl.

… and secretly, I hope this dance will last a while.

Glimpses of an Angel’s Fire

Recently, I went on a ski trip with a group to Angel Fire, New Mexico.
I had never been before and I was excited.

The first day was really challenging though.
The high altitude kept giving me inhaler moments!
All I focused on was, well, breathing!

Feeling winded and old,
As we were climbing up towards the lift to go tubing,
I got on the lift and looked back down the hill at all the snow.
Lovely!

down… up… down…then going up the lift again, I looked down the hill,
My eyes traveled down the slope, past the snow,
past the trees and then my eyes traveled… UP.
My breath caught in my throat, as I realized the huge blue mountain in the distance.
I hadn’t noticed it before!
How breathless… like catching of a glimpse Heaven.

Funny.  I almost missed a Mountain!
Like life…I got so consumed with those little things, like breathing in and breathing out,
that I got used to looking just past my nose.
I forgot to look beyond.  To look for that Angel’s Fire!
I forgot, for one moment… to just look… UP.

A Boogie Covered Bead

Isn’t God’s timing interesting?

One of my 6-year-old twin boys never understood the concept of blowing OUT of his

nose!  It’s kind of an abstract concept if you really think about it. For years, I tried and tried to help

him to understand.  I explained, I demonstrated, I contrasted blowing out with blowing in, I even

lighted a candle… to make a little game of trying to blow it out with his nose! Face it, desperation

is the mother of pure craziness. Nothing ever worked, so I gave up and instead, breathed silent

prayers that nothing would ever get shoved up into places that only fingers should go.

Recently, my boys and I were in the backyard, splashing around in our little soft sided pool,

trying to make it through another 100+ degree day in Texas, when Andrew suddenly stood up,

nose obviously full of chlorinated water, eyes watering (or was that just the pool water?).  This

was a tired old rerun, and I knew this scene well. My line was, “blow out”, and invariably he would

sniff in! (Youch) He would cry and I would get annoyed.

By the way he stood, I could tell something was very different this time. Instead of the

typical scene, something interesting unfolded. Nothing was said, but I saw a thought fixed on his

face. I could have touched the proverbial light bulb that flashed on. Very gingerly, ever so

softly, like the breathing of a sleeping baby, he pushed a little water OUT of his nose! He tried

again and blew a little harder this time. We froze, he looked at me, our eyes locked, and then we

splashed, laughed and celebrated!  Face it, 6 is kind of old to learn to blow out of your nose! But

that is what made our celebration so momentous.

Fast forward a week. As I was cleaning up Saturday morning dishes, a very

wide eyed  boy came creeping into the kitchen pointing to his nose. Fear was pasted on

his face. I quizzed, questioned, enticed until he finally whispered that there was something in his nose.
“What?”
” A bead. “
“A what?”
Yup, a bead was crammed up his nose!

I got eye to eye with him.  I plugged  one nostril and reminded him of the pool.

Visions of emergency rooms flitted through my mind… after all, what DO you do if one

of these things doesn’t come out?  I snapped off the images of “plan B”, and focused on “plan A”.

He got really still.  I prayed.  He breathed. I prayed again. WHAMMMMM!  Out shot a ribbed

red plastic bead from last weeks Sunday School project! Ribbed bead? That had to have hurt!

You know, isn’t that how it is with us and God?  . We casually learn something. We have this inexplicable light bulb moment when suddenly we “get it”.
like blowing water out our nose, never suspecting that perhaps He was really equipping us to handle that “bead up the nose” moment.

It’s funny how we sometimes think God is concerned only about the big tragedies, and yet perhaps He is also interested in those small little boogie covered bead moments.

Craisins, Raisins and Prunes!

I think “life”
leaves you as Craisins, Raisins or Prunes.

You know, we all have a story of sorrow.
Mine, was divorce.
It has changed how I look at things. (obviously)

Raisins… now, don’t you know some Raisins?
People who are good.  Not great, but they are getting by.
They kinda look like some sort of wrinkly, animal poop.
Life has taken a toll, but they survived.
They are kinda sweet… and people either like them added
to their cookies, or they don’t.
These are the ones who try to recapture, and replace the old.
Those who think if they rush out and “find someone” that then they will be happy.
I know some Raisins.

Now Prunes… don’t you cringe at the mere mention?
These are your life-worn people. Perhaps they live thinking
of “What if’s” and how they were wronged.
Perhaps they are a little bitter and sour, as they
carry their baggage around with them, daily.
And after you’ve been around them a sufficating hour…
they give you “the runs”.
Yeah, I know some angry old Prunes.

Now, Craisins… those are new and different!
Sure, they are worn and wrinkled… but
that isn’t what you see first.
You see this deep rich red, that makes cookies, muffins and salads…
BEAUTIFUL.
These are the ones who forgive and go on to live lives of great beauty.
You forget the past, because you are just so drawn to them.
I think I’ll pass, on the raisins and prunes.
Hand over the craisins, please!

Though they “sow(ed) in tears (they) will reap with songs of joy” – Psalm 126:5

Life is just a glass of Diet Coke

 

This was my first Thanksgiving without my boys.

It was their dad’s turn, and I legally had to share!

Well, I determined that this year, instead of celebrating Thanksgiving

with my sisters family… I was going to skip it! Are you shocked?

It is strange, but I didn’t want to look over and see the empty places…

the one where my husband should have been and the two where my boys should have been.

I didn’t want to experience the loss.

Now, before you pity me… don’t. I have done so much forgiving, and leaning on God,

and I can honestly say that my outlook has changed. I have grown. I am content… but

there are places I can’t go. So many times, we look back at things we’ve lost instead

of those things we have gained. If we are constantly looking at the empty places left

at the Thanksgiving tables of our lives… then we might as well stop living.

But, the Lord says that in all things… give thanks. It is funny, it even says that with thankfulness,

by prayer and petition, make our requests known to God. It’s kinda funny how the thankfulness

seems to get thrown to the side, while we pray and beg God for what we want. We focus on the “empty”

and beg God to fix it… fill it?

Obviously, no one is going to say “Thank you God for my divorce!” or________ (fill in your own “thing”)

But, instead of making my bed in the middle of that loss, I decided to go shopping out of town with a friend… Fun!

Go to the Cowboys game on Thanksgiving! Suddenly, my loss has turned around to something new.

Something different.

Was it my first pick. No. Am I going to have a good Thanksgiving? You bet!

Do I miss my kids… absolutely. The difference is… well, it is like a glass of Diet Coke

that is half full… or half empty. Mine is half full. Which glass are you drinking out of?

The files of my mind

Going through a divorce has forced me to make many mental files over the years. These are the files that IUse to understand, and then file away events that happen.

I have the “He done me wrong!” file.      The “acting crazy and mental” fil

“Put on your big girl panties and deal with it” file

And even the, “when life gives you limes, make Margaritas” file.

So, here I am, two years after a divorce. I am feeling happy with my

New life. I’ve been busy living and loving in an out-loud kind of way.

I’ve basically been making margaritas with those limes of divorce… and having quite a great time.

Then Recently, my boys came home from their visit and shared that their daddy was going to get married again. I was prepared for it. I had suspected it would be soon. I even actually liked the girl.

So how did I respond? I bawled quietly in front of my computer, while my boys obliviously played in their room! OK… I am talking gut-renching sobs! I was embarrassed at myself. I thought I was “over him”. I thought I was emotionally healthy. This event happens… and I bawl? How do I make sense of this? How do I file this one? Under the “crazy” file?

Every morning, my sister always emails me a prayer. The next morning, she sent me a prayer for strength to handle those

“milestone moments that throw you off balance”

“Milestone moments that throw you off balance”

That is it! I wasn’t mental… I was just a little tripped up.

So now, I have a new file! I hope this file stays pretty empty, over the years, but now I know that when I have an event that brings me unexpectedly to my knees… now

I can cry a little, understand it, and then tuck it away in my

“Milestone moments that throw you off balance” file.

The Great Candy Race

 

 

Priorities change as we get older. I don’t know how or when, but they do.

 

Sometimes it takes God’s whisper to make us take another look.

 

Ah… the Greatest Candy Race happens every year, in October. I have

great memories of making up a gypsy costume or being a hobo and the

greatest part… seeing how full my pumpkin bucket got! The Goal? Candy!

 

Fast forward… now I have my own children, and in the evening hours, kids

everywhere still rush out to get candy. Even if you take your kids to a local

Hallelujah party instead, the goal is still CANDY! The Great Race is on!

Every year our town has trick or treating on “The Square”, until 5:00.

Running late after a crazy day at work, in a heated sweat and with frustrated tempers, at 4:40 we finally

burst onto the bustling scene in full costume. Rushing, I clutched Robin’s hand while

my husband dragged along the Power Ranger. Last years Spidey buckets

clunked out rhythms on the sidewalk as we hurried our little guys

from candy station to candy station. In a feverish rush, we looked for our

next candy stop as we raced against the clock. After all, wasn’t this the

good American family thing to do?

Walking as fast as we could, we passed some friends and made a hurried

remark, but all I could think of was, “gotta hurry, gotta get the candy… “

Off we rushed. Finally, we got to a stretch of sidewalk and I heard God

whisper, “Watch this”.

Coming toward us was a short Batman with steroid-esk muscles. Robin and

Power Ranger excitedly talked to one another, and then as we got close they

yelled out “Hi Batman!” Batman was excited too, as he dance-skipped past

us. There was a flurry of comments, turned heads and joyous jabbering as

the boys discussed Batman. Then, we approached Spiderman. Again, Robin

and Power Ranger discussed what they saw, talking excitedly as we passed.

 

Then it dawned on me. The boys weren’t even worried about how full their

little buckets got. They were enjoying their journey! In awe, I realized

that mini candy bars, nuggets of candy corn and a gazillion suckers weren’t

even on their minds! This was MY agenda… could it be that this great Race

for all of this sugared bliss, was MY race? Kinda like getting the grocery shopping done, or the

supper dishes washed and put away. This was a race, with a finish line… to

hurry up and get it done. Or for me, maybe the finish line was really about stamping a

good memory on the boys mind. “There, I’ve completed MY agenda… I AM a

good mom! See?”

Tears in my soul, at what I had almost missed, I breathed a long

breath and slowed my footsteps down. Instead of dragging along my little

Robin, I looked back at my husband and exchanged my own look of “Watch

this”. Our race ended right there and then. Living in the journey began.

We walked and chatted about all of the neat costumes, the boys

stopped to talk to buddies from Church and school, and I exchanged smiles.

Did we get lots of candy? I honestly couldn’t say? But I do know that I

am so thankful I heard God whisper , “Watch this”, ‘cause I almost missed

the journey.

Miracles and crusty old Lawn Mowers

 

 

Miracles come wrapped up in strange packages.

Try an old grass encrusted, lawn chopper-upper.

Yup… I have always been at odds with the dern thing.

 

Being a newly single mom, I had tried several times to start the lawnmower,

but had gotten nothing but sweat running down my back, and tears of defeat

down my face. I had put off mowing as long as I could. It was time.

I put on my “big girl panties”, put on my mowin’ shoes, and marched out to that “dern” mower… the gas guzzlin’ one.

The battle was on. I was not going to let this beat me! I pulled… nothing.

Just as I was ready to declare war and yank and yank and finally give up in one sweaty dripping heap,…. I stopped.

Before I could get agrivated… I stopped.

Staring at that dern mower… I said, “Lord… I am not strong enough to start this mower… but YOU are!”.

I pulled…. it sputtered and then grew into a low purrr. I laughed out loud, thanked the Big Guy, and enjoyed every second of mowing my yard!

The really funny thing… as I was finishing that last little bit… it sputtered and died!

I just giggled some more… because I could almost hear God saying, ” I gave you just enough… no less, no more…I am enough”.

Isn’t that the truth! He is enough… and he sends strange miracles and reminders through crusty old lawn mowers!

Man Boobs and Balding Women

 

 

I just saw a song entitled “Man Boobs”. Funny song but a tragic reality!

Balding Woman… just as tragic…

Recently, I started taking a medicine that, from what I’ve pieced together from the internet, triggers hair loss.

Ok… I swear I was beginning to go bald! There it is!

So, I have since stopped the medicine, but it is looking like what has thinned may be permanent. UGH!

First, you have children, your body rearranges itself, you learn to stress eat, and then your hair thins. What next?

Visions of my grandma’s thin, blue hair float through my memory and I think how unfair aging can be.

It is funny, but somewhere along the way I started noticing beautiful hair. What appreciation I have for thick, healthy hair now, but what’s more is the compassion I now own for women who can’t hide the scalp that shines through. My heart bleeds when I see these woman, because in a small way, I can relate. Isn’t a woman’s hair supposed to be her crowning glory? Compassion… Could it possibly be born out of pain? The pain of understanding?

 

Don’t we all have our own “bald” issues? Big feet, gigantic bottoms,

small boobs, poor teeth, unfortunate complexions…

Ask each person what they hate about themselves, and they won’t hesitate to anwer.

Don’t our children learn early, those things that aren’t “Perfect”, even though they look beautiful to us?

Bald Women and Man Boobs… Perhaps we need to be thankful for those imperfections, because they may really be Compassion… Compassion in the making.