Will you marry me?

In today's culture in our country, quite a big deal is made of asking a girl to Prom. It doesn't seem that a guy can just ask a girl to Prom anymore. No… he has to be creative & romantic, & think of a clever one-of-a-kind way to ask a girl to Prom. I cannot imagine the pressure this puts on the young man. Maybe I got it wrong, & all of this ingenuity is not necessary. Maybe a guy can just ask a girl to prom?

What about a wedding? Can a man simply ask a young woman to marry him or does he need to be creative & romantic? Dose he need his own one-of-a-kind way to ask a woman to be his wife? Again, in our country, it seems that a man doesn't just ask a woman to marry him. He has to make it an event. It needs to have an element of surprise. Romance is good. A photographer on hand is also good; however, this may detract from the private moment (unless, of course, the proposal occurs in the presence of others).

You get where I'm going with this. It take a whole lot of preparation to pop the question. What does it take to survive planning a marriage, the wedding, & then live happily ever after? I cannot answer this question. I married fresh out of college. I married my high school sweetheart. Yes, I dated a few other guys, but dating them only made me more certain of the guy who wanted to put a ring on my finger.

Now, married almost 32 years, I can honestly say that even though I married a guy I dated for 7 years, & even though I came from 2 parents that modeled true love, I really didn't have a clue as to what I was doing. I could barely boil water let alone fix a meal. I could clean, but could I work, clean, & cook a meal? NO! I didn't know the day I got married that we would have 3 beautiful daughters. I had 2 brothers, but honestly, I was relieved to have girls. I felt I knew them better.

The day he popped the question, I didn't know some of the sorrows we would face on our journey. I didn't know the heartache of losing my own parents. Having breast cancer & losing my home to a tornado a few years later was no where on my radar. No… that day he looked into my eyes & asked me to marry him, neither he or I had any thought of what the future would hold. Nobody does.

Life was a little simper then. No internet. I just knew we belonged together. I knew that I rested best in the crook of his arm. I knew pizza tasted best in his presence. Tobogganing wasn't the same without him. He didn't care that I had 2 left feet. It didn't matter to him that I couldn't catch a ball or win a race. No… he just pure & simply loved me, & I loved him back.

In the quiet...

In the quiet, the snow falls, my dog sleeps, the fire burns, & I ponder. I think about life and process so many seemingly insignificant things & of course, some of the things in life that truly seem to matter. I consider myself to have a deep relationship with Jesus. I asked Him into my heart at such a young age, I cannot pin it down to a certain date. I just remember singing "Jesus Loves Me" at the age of 3 & believing it. It really was that simple for me. So… I tend to see things through His eyes, or at least, I strive for that. I say this only so my readers of this particular blog may know from whence I come.

I want a heart for Christ. That means I want my heart to break for the things that break His heart. That's a heavy burden to bear because in our world, there is much to break His heart. These are the things I ponder in the quiet moments of my life. Lately, with  my increasing inability to overexert myself, I have more quiet moments than most people my age & certainly more than I have been accustomed to. As I rest to regain my energy, I wonder how God can use me with my new circumstances. I believe this blog  perhaps qualifies…

Lately, I have been humbled by many articles I have read about the crisis at Wheaton College with Professor Hawkins. When I read these articles, I usually have to look up the meaning of at least 3 words. The good news is, I am increasing my somewhat limited vocabulary, but I am also calling into question if I should be even writing a blog at all. Just to be honest, my blogs come from my heart, not from being gifted in the area of intelligence. I am not.

BUT, as I sit in my quiet, looking up words & trying to make 2 cents of this situation at Wheaton, my heart for Christ cries. It is sad & broken for this woman. Her motive in wearing a hijab was to show solidarity with Muslims (especially women) who are being despised & rejected by our society (PERIOD). I believe the college should be thankful to have such a caring professor. I believe this is the heart of Jesus, to care for the lonely. His earthly life showed this pattern over & over.

Instead of appreciating this woman's heart for these Muslim women & her self sacrifice, the college chooses to focus on theology. While theology has its place, & clearly it does not reside in my chemo brain, my throat has a lump in it, my heart is broken for this woman, & I'd like to shake the "Powers at BE" at Wheaton, & say,"Wake up! This woman is the kind of person you should be proud to have on staff. She has a heart for Christ, & she is bold enough to follow His calling & reach out to the persecuted." So I beg… "Please Wheaton, wake up! You are missing the point. Be ashamed. Don't fire her. Embrace her."

Old Lang Syne

I know that sometimes my processing disability interferes with my ability to understand musical lyrics. Often, I've thought a song was saying one thing, only to find out from my dear husband or children that I had it all wrong. This revelation is always accompanied by much laughter & usually embarrassment.
However, always with affection.

I don't have that experience with "Old Lang Syne," but as I was pondering the New Year & the past year, I realized I had NO idea what those 3 words mean. So… I did a little research & realized the song is about friendship & memories. How appropriate. It's reminding us to hang on to both. Friendship & memories are significant parts of who we are.

It seems that we've all been told by our parents at one time or another that "We are as good as the company we keep". I do believe that the people we surround ourselves with have a profound impact on us. However, we should never use these words as an excuse to exclude others or keep us from reaching out to someone in need.

I think sometimes we have expectations for our loved ones & friends, & sometimes those expectations come crashing down before our very eyes. Our broken expectations tend to break our hearts & cause hurt on both sides of the relationship. My HOPE this New Year's is that we learn to just let others "be." We appreciate them for who they are.

I HOPE we realize that our expectations are not fair to them. My brother once told me that expecting someone to see life through my eyes was self-righteous. I was about 18 at the time, & his words really made me think. I needed to stop with the mentality of, "Well, I would never..."

If you don't have a New Year's resolution, & you are looking for one, maybe, just maybe, it could be to forgive someone this year. Forgiveness is sweet. It frees you from the shackles of another person. Restoration may be able to take place, or maybe it's just inner peace. I like my resolutions to be of a Spiritual nature, something of eternal value. Yes… I need to shed some pounds. I need to exercise more. I need to stop some bad habits. That's all well & good, but to forgive is divine.

Eyes Wide Open !

I'll be honest, lately my mind has needed some stimulation. Since I've added a cane to my life & secured a handicap parking tag, my life has slowed down a bit. I'm navigating the "new me" with the addition of yet another health issue. This one (as others) has caught me by surprise. Once again, I am exploring unknown territory. Truth is… that's life.

I really needed something to think about besides my unknown territory. It's quite obvious if you follow me on FB, my husband & my grandchildren are my favorite diversions. BUT… along came my baby daughter (age 23) home for Christmas. She's a Community Art Major going to Grad School. Her world is so different than my world, & it's by choice, her choice.

Her mission in life is to use art to help communities heal. When I evaluate how this happened, I know it is a "God thing." How did my little shy girl become so courageous? I can see how her love for helping communities in need evolved, but from whence her courage comes, I stand in awe. That awe points me only to God. Only He can take a meek person & call him/her to such a mission.

As a youth leader, I felt "called." With that calling comes conviction. With that calling comes affirmation of one's beliefs. Most importantly, with that calling comes empowerment. As I look at my daughter, I see empowerment. God has laid some heavy issues on her heart, & she is that one person who can help change the world for the better. She is that one person who isn't afraid to open the eyes of others to truth, to ignored realities of our world.

When she came home, & I began to see how her mind & heart have evolved since she left last August, my mouth dropped open (but I hoped she didn't notice). I tried to remain in the background & just absorb what I was seeing. I wanted to get a full picture. I kept my mouth shut. For me, that's a new objective. Not easy!

This morning as I sat in the quiet of my home, surrounded by a blanket of snow (a snow which clings to each tree branch), I began to read a few articles posted by 2 of my daughters. My eyes began to open, my unstimulated mind began to put the picture together. Thank you, Kristen.

Sometimes as a parent, you do your best, but...

This morning I awoke with very little expectation of the day. I was looking forward to a low key Saturday, especially this season of the year. As I did my daily morning ritual, I checked my email & then decided to take a quick peek at Facebook. However, on this day, my quick peek turned into one of deep thought & a collision of memories & shock.

The first thing I saw was a thoughtful article posted by my oldest daughter about Santa Claus. I was so touched by what she wrote when she posted the article, I had to ponder her words for more than a few moments. I read the beautiful article, & thus began my trip down memory lane. My Santa years as a little girl, & then my daughters' Santa years as little girls, & now my grandchildren's Santa years begin…

Sometimes as a parent, you do your best, but you know in the heat of the moment, you aren't getting everything right. AND… as you look back on the childhood you gave your children, you know you didn't get everything right. You take comfort in knowing you did the best you could in each unexpected moment, but sometimes, you wish you would have done better.

So when I saw my daughter's post, I realized that at least in her eyes, I got something right. She cherished her Santa years, & now she is blessing her little one in the same way. In this world of terror & so much unresolved baggage, my heart pondered Christmas Past, & I breathed in the warmth. As I scrolled through my notifications, I ran across something so awful, my heart couldn't bear the news.

Yet another friend had lost her son (at Christmastime). New memories began flashing through my brain. And then, my memories began to collide with my thoughts. My walk down Christmas Lane began crashing with heartache for my friend. The realization of how precious each moment of our life is (whether we get it right or wrong) sat like a lump in my throat.

We don't know how many moments we will have. The word "precious" is highly overused (especially by myself), but each moment, each human being in my life, is precious. I look at my grand babies. They are toddlers now. My eyes don't stop with their beautiful faces or their cute little noses. NO, I ponder each little finger & toe. Their tiny voices are developing, & their little personalities are shining through.

Their antics make me laugh even when I am not with them. Time spent with them is good medicine for all my aches & pain (both physically & emotionally). I remember counting my own little girl's fingers & tows, answering their sweet questions, & wiping their tears. NO, I didn't get everything right, but at least I have moments to hold in my heart. My own mother wiped my tears. My Dad looked under my bed each night. I have those precious moments too.

Memories...

With Christmas comes memories. Some are happy, & well… some are painful. As we decorate our tree, memories of Christmas Past seem to flow. Christmas is a mark of how life has changed. We watch "It's a Wonderful Life" and "A Christmas Story" &  realize the vast differences in our broken world from then to now.

We measure change by the Christmas we remember as a child, the Christmas we celebrated with our children, & the Christmas we celebrate now. Memories of loved ones lost always come to mind. In some cases we miss them. Sometimes we just remember…Some of us have voids while others have stockings overflowing. It just is what it is (not to sound cliche).

It helps me tremendously to focus on the true meaning of Christmas. I love (as much as anybody) to get caught up in Santa Claus. In fact, I cherish those moments from my childhood, as a parent, & now as Grandma. But… as this world crumbles around us, & we become more terrified with each new day, I need more than sleigh bells. I need to be reassured that we have a God whose will is going to happen in spite of human interference.

Heartache will continue. Terrorism has become a part of life. Loved ones suffer with illness. Relationships fail us. People are losing jobs. Mental illness is running rampant. The homeless continue to be homeless. Immigrants continue to flee their unbearable lives. The unexpected has a way of slapping us in the face & saying, "Ready or not, here I am, now what are you going to do?"

Here is what I am going to do… I am going to cling to my faith in Christ because He is my HOPE. When I'm slapped in the face, I will seek Him to guide me. I am going to hold onto the people that God has put in my life. I want to walk my journey with grace & dignity whatever my circumstances. That is my prayer. Sometimes I fail.

In the short term, I am going to enjoy each Christmas moment that comes my way… the music, the lights, the movies, my beautiful Nativity, friendship, gifts, precious Grandchildren, my Girls, snow, bell ringing,  a few sweets now & then, & my memories, my precious Christmas memories...

Daniel

Sometimes things happen that quite unexpectedly take you back. Last evening, I entered a funeral home to pay respects to a family who lost their young adult son. The line was out the door. As I waited patiently to hug the family & pay my last respects to Daniel, I couldn't help but think back to the years he attended The ROCK.

As I stood in the funeral home, I saw his best friends. I saw how grieved these young men were. They were no longer the boys who attended my youth group. I was no longer a youth leader. No, they were young men now, & their hearts were raw. They were broken. I couldn't help but wonder what had transpired over the last 5 or 6 years in their lives. I'd lost track of many of them.

Last evening, I stood there. It was surreal. Their tears were real. The look of anguish in their eyes was real. Yet, the whole thing seemed surreal. It just wasn't supposed to happen this way. No… a young man wasn't supposed to die. He had a family that loved him, a family that needed him. He had a family that had hopes & expectations for their son. This couldn't be undone. No matter how much we prayed, we could not undo this unbearable situation.

As time passed, I could no longer hold my resolve. I believe it was the sight of a beautiful teenage girl who attended The ROCK with her parents. She was just a little mite back then. I remember her dressed as Cinderella one Halloween. I looked at her. Flashbacks ran through my head. I hugger her. Her hair was so shiny & soft. Her youth so beautiful. She had recently gotten her braces off.

As I hugged her, I was frantic. I wanted to whisper all the things I could think of in her ear to keep her safe. I wanted her to know her worth. I wanted to tell her she was beautiful. I wanted to protect her from the evils in this world. My heart cried. My eyes cried. This world is too painful. Things happen that are undoable. Young people do things without realizing the cost.

As we reached the parents, I wanted them to know that the love they poured into their son was something we all knew. We share their heartache, but only they could know such depth. Their son will always hold a special place in our hearts. He will long be remembered for his loyalty, how he protected his younger sister, his sense of humor, his love for others. He will be missed. Their love was not in vain.