I never knew how much I liked teen agers until I became a youth leader. In fact, I think as a young adult I was intimidated by them. I kind of grew into my comfort zone with them as my own children went through their teen years. God has given me such a heart for teens, my heart breaks for them in today's world.
When I first began working with them, it was a small intimate group of kids that pretty much knew each other since their nursery days in the church. I cared about each of them personally. For the most part, I watched them grow up. As the group grew, so did my world. I became more aware of their troubled hearts & the things that slap them in the face.
Some of them came from your so called "typical family," but lets be honest, most of them didn't. Few kids in today's world live a life with their same 2 parents & grow into their teen years with the security that comes with 2 parents that have a life long love & commitment to each other. However, it seems that in today's world, the best parents can have teens that go astray, & the non present parents may have teens which soar. The "nontraditional family" has raised some pretty awesome teens too. Sometimes, there is no rhyme or reason. It's just hormones & quirks.
We are all wired differently. That's not rocket science. So… it's what we do with what comes our way that sometimes determines the outcome. Sometimes the outcome is awful, so how do we respond to awful? How does a teen respond to overwhelming conditions that are out of their control & so far from what they would choose? Sometimes their life really sucks, & they need someone to help them process their anger & heartaches.
Being the wise old woman that I am (LOL), I must say based on my observations throughout my life, it's when teens try to solve their own problems or process their own depression, anger, etc… that their lives often take a turn for the worse. Just last night, I learned of a struggle of one of the teens in my youth group. I looked back on those years, probably 8 ish years ago, & I had no idea this young person was suffering. Teens are masters at covering their heartache! They are masters at internalizing their pain & expressing it in harmful ways that pretty much sabotage their own lives.
Lately I've been aware of some pretty hard slaps in the face of teens I love. I sit here wondering why these slaps had to be so harsh. Why do they have to endure such pain? Why is it so hard to be a teen in today's culture? We can blame technology for much of it, but in the case of these few teens I mention, technology had nothing to do with what hit them square in the face. My heart weeps for them. I just needed to get this off my chest!
Tuesday, February 9, 2016
Friday, February 5, 2016
Why I raise money for Susan G. Komen...
It seems to me that when you step up to raise money for a cause, your motivation will impact your results. A little bit of conviction goes a long way. It drives your campaign (so to speak).
You may ask… "What's my motivation?" That's an easy answer. Jamie, Haley, Kristen, & now my 2 year old grand daughter, Lily. I'm a family girl. Nothing in my world would bring me greater heartache than having to walk this Breast Cancer journey with one of my precious daughters or my blond & blue eyed grand daughter. It's hard for me to think about, let alone speak of such a horror.
Early on in my Breast Cancer journey, I asked Kitty, one of the counselors at The Cancer Center, how I would deal with my greatest fear. Her answer was simple, "A piece of your heart would die." I knew she hit the nail on the head!
I ask myself… "How can I save my daughters & my darling grand daughter from this atrocity?" My answer is simple. RESEARCH! Susan G. Komen's name is stamped on all of the great strides that have been made in this dignity stealing disease.
Resesarch done by Susan G. Komen saved my life. My aggressive Breast Cancer was HER2NEW positive. It was ESTROGEN positive. It was Stage 3. It paralyzed me in every aspect of my life. I couldn't say the 3 words, "I. have. cancer," for a year. I couldn't even talk to my closest friend for a month (even tho' she was with me when I received my diagnosis). Susan G. Komen had my back! Because of her research, there was treatment for my cancer. I am eternally grateful for Susan G. Komen. I am so grateful I even named my cat BELLA G. KOMEN !
I try not to dwell on the negatives in my life, but I must be honest & transparent so that you understand my motivation. 7 months prior to my diagnosis, I had a clean mammogram. My husband found my lump. I thought it was surely a seam on my pajama pocket, but as fear began to run through my body like electricity, I realized that my pajamas had no pocket. It was a lump.
Breast Cancer has robbed me of much! I had chemo. I had a double mastectomy. I had radiation. Radiation is the gift that keeps on giving. It continues to shrink the skin on my left side which causes my breast to be hard & now about 2 " higher than the other side. This gift has no end in sight. My Double Mastectomy makes me feel as though I am wearing a Bra under my skin 24/7. Lastly, my chemo caused a neuromuscular disease I already had to go into full progression. It is a painful & crippling disease that robs me of my strength & stamina. There is no cure for it. There is NO end in sight. It will continue to progress.
My Team, Team Sweet Potatas, raised just over $10,000 for Susan G. Komen's Race for The Cure last year by using Facebook alone & a few emails sent to family members who are not on Facebook. 2 local businesses (The Ice Cream Shack of Sunnyland & Maria's: A Great Place to Eat in Washington) offered to put coffee cans out for me. My approach to posting on FB was not rocket science. I posted almost daily. I shared bits & pieces of my story. I shared photos & posts made for FB. I used the facts about Breast Cancer provided by Susan G. Komen. I kept it personal. You could say, I dogged people. Each donation is significant. Each donation helps save a life. I am SO humbled that my life was saved by the fundraisers who went before me. They never knew me. I will never know most of them. Some of them are no longer with us. Their work saved me. Because of them, I get to hold my Grand Babies, & believe me, their kisses are the best medicine I know.
You may ask… "What's my motivation?" That's an easy answer. Jamie, Haley, Kristen, & now my 2 year old grand daughter, Lily. I'm a family girl. Nothing in my world would bring me greater heartache than having to walk this Breast Cancer journey with one of my precious daughters or my blond & blue eyed grand daughter. It's hard for me to think about, let alone speak of such a horror.
Early on in my Breast Cancer journey, I asked Kitty, one of the counselors at The Cancer Center, how I would deal with my greatest fear. Her answer was simple, "A piece of your heart would die." I knew she hit the nail on the head!
I ask myself… "How can I save my daughters & my darling grand daughter from this atrocity?" My answer is simple. RESEARCH! Susan G. Komen's name is stamped on all of the great strides that have been made in this dignity stealing disease.
Resesarch done by Susan G. Komen saved my life. My aggressive Breast Cancer was HER2NEW positive. It was ESTROGEN positive. It was Stage 3. It paralyzed me in every aspect of my life. I couldn't say the 3 words, "I. have. cancer," for a year. I couldn't even talk to my closest friend for a month (even tho' she was with me when I received my diagnosis). Susan G. Komen had my back! Because of her research, there was treatment for my cancer. I am eternally grateful for Susan G. Komen. I am so grateful I even named my cat BELLA G. KOMEN !
I try not to dwell on the negatives in my life, but I must be honest & transparent so that you understand my motivation. 7 months prior to my diagnosis, I had a clean mammogram. My husband found my lump. I thought it was surely a seam on my pajama pocket, but as fear began to run through my body like electricity, I realized that my pajamas had no pocket. It was a lump.
Breast Cancer has robbed me of much! I had chemo. I had a double mastectomy. I had radiation. Radiation is the gift that keeps on giving. It continues to shrink the skin on my left side which causes my breast to be hard & now about 2 " higher than the other side. This gift has no end in sight. My Double Mastectomy makes me feel as though I am wearing a Bra under my skin 24/7. Lastly, my chemo caused a neuromuscular disease I already had to go into full progression. It is a painful & crippling disease that robs me of my strength & stamina. There is no cure for it. There is NO end in sight. It will continue to progress.
My Team, Team Sweet Potatas, raised just over $10,000 for Susan G. Komen's Race for The Cure last year by using Facebook alone & a few emails sent to family members who are not on Facebook. 2 local businesses (The Ice Cream Shack of Sunnyland & Maria's: A Great Place to Eat in Washington) offered to put coffee cans out for me. My approach to posting on FB was not rocket science. I posted almost daily. I shared bits & pieces of my story. I shared photos & posts made for FB. I used the facts about Breast Cancer provided by Susan G. Komen. I kept it personal. You could say, I dogged people. Each donation is significant. Each donation helps save a life. I am SO humbled that my life was saved by the fundraisers who went before me. They never knew me. I will never know most of them. Some of them are no longer with us. Their work saved me. Because of them, I get to hold my Grand Babies, & believe me, their kisses are the best medicine I know.
Sunday, January 24, 2016
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.
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.
Sunday, January 10, 2016
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."
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."
Thursday, December 31, 2015
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.
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.
Wednesday, December 30, 2015
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.
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.
Saturday, December 12, 2015
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.
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.
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