This year, this very special year, our family received a gift unlike any other. And we might never get a gift like this again, or we might — we just don't know yet. You see, our youngest son and his wife got a phone call just days before Christmas. They have been waiting for this particular call for a while now. Actually, since their son was 6 months old. And then it came, a simple yet life-changing phone call, one stating that their little baby girl was ready to be picked up! They had been chosen by the birth mother to raise this little tiny baby. They had some paperwork to fill out, and then she'd be theirs. Yes, a her, a girl. She is beautiful, perfect, and adorable. And since they have a new daughter, we have a new granddaughter — that is 6 grandchildren for us! We are so excited and happy for them and for us!
Shortly after they married, we knew that our son and daughter-in-law were talking about adopting. When the time came for them to start a family, they filled out all the necessary forms and waited and waited and waited until one day, our daughter-in-law found out she was pregnant. We were all so happy, however, that meant putting off adopting for a time.
Their little boy is now almost 2 years old, so the timing of this new baby is perfect in every way. For one thing, she is a little Christmas baby, a gift. For another, she has my maternal grandmother's name, given to her by her birth mother. And she was a special gift just for my son, who turned 30 a few days ago. So you see, this was meant to be. In fact, the minute I heard her name, I knew that she belonged to our family. She couldn't have more wonderful parents, who already love her deeply. And her grandparents love her and think she is pretty awesome, too!
She is now 2 weeks old. Our sweet little granddaughter, number 6. I can't wait to see her again, rock her, hold her. I really hope that she doesn't grow too much. I want her to stay little for a very long time. I love this baby stage, so tiny and cuddly.
Yes, we had an exciting Christmas this year. Along with all the fun, presents, and family, we all got a new baby. Merry Christmas to us! And thank you, God, for letting us have her as a part of our family. We promise to always protect her, always love her, and always show her your ways.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
A Little Christmas Humor
Oh, come on. I have to share this. We all need a little laugh, especially around the holidays. And believe me, our Christmases are always jam-packed full of fun, laughter, a little crazy, and a whole lot of nuttiness. It's what makes us, us. And I love it that way. I actually have 2 stories to tell this year. One very heartwarming and poignant. The other, well, the other story is just plain funny.
I am going to share the funny one for this blog. The other story will come in a couple of days. We are at our oldest son's house for Christmas this year. Our youngest son lives just 20 miles away. So we are able to spend time with both of our sons and their families; however, our daughter is in California this year with her in-laws, and we sure do miss her.
I never know what to expect while visiting my children. I don't know where we will be going, what we will be doing, or who we will be with, but we are always willing and ready to go. We love seeing, going, doing, having fun, and are always up for just about anything! That's just who we are. Crazy, nutty, fun.
Our plans always end up flowing into our sons' plans--we all got together on Christmas Eve morning for brunch (which, by the way, was cooked by my oldest son), and then we opened our gifts. Our 4 little grandchildren (normally there would be 6) were very excited to open their gifts from grandma and grandpa, and in turn, grandma and grandpa received some pretty awesome presents themselves. Our children never disappoint, always giving us such beautiful and thoughtful gifts. They more often than not bring tears to our eyes--at least to mine anyway. Grandma crybaby.
Afterward, it was time for the little ones to take their naps, so my husband and I ran to the store for some last-minute groceries. Later that evening, we went to church with our oldest son and his family. It's a whole new world--going to church with a 1 1/2-year-old and a 3 1/2-year-old. Some of the funniest quotes ever are spoken during Christmas Eve candlelight services, even though it is meant to be a solemn, quiet time, full of softly sung carols, communion, and reflection. For instance, said loudly by my 3 1/2-year-old granddaughter, "Grandma (shaking her candle hard), why aren't these things turning on?" Now, how could I not laugh a little at that funny question?
Also, I must add here that the guest speaker was my son's father-in-law, who is also my 1 1/2-year-old grandson's other grandfather. So, of course, he is going to try to get his grandpa's attention by yelling out periodically, "Grandpa, Grandpa," while waving his little hands. He's so cute. Little kids help to make the services memorable, that's for sure. They give them life!
After church, we all went to dinner — both sides of the family went along, along with some old church friends. All 15 of us. My poor daughter-in-law tried desperately to find a Chinese restaurant that could accommodate us. It was her family's tradition to always go out for Chinese food after Christmas Eve service. Finally, she found one — a really bad one. Smelly, a little on the dirtier, crustier side. Grungy. However, we decided we could brave it, so we prayed hard over our food, " Please God, protect us from getting sick, and proceeded to go on in. It went from bad to worse within a few minutes after arriving. They claimed to have our reservation, and yet we had to wait for quite a while for our table. Once we took it back to our table, though, we quickly realized it was a table for 8, not 15. Hmmmm, what now? Do we just hijack a nearby table? Yes, that's just what we did, and bussed it ourselves too! At this point, I thought we were making a huge mistake by staying, but stay we did. We ordered, and when the food began arriving, each dish several minutes apart, I knew we were in trouble. We never received refills on any drinks, the fortune cookies were literally thrown on the table, and when I went to take my granddaughter to the restroom, I had to clean it myself before letting her use it. All in all, it was one of those nights where you either have to just laugh or your entire night would be ruined. And nothing can ruin Christmas Eve for me. Nothing. Not even bad Chinese food.
We then drove home, and almost before we reached the front door, we were making a beeline for the bathroom. Unfortunately, the upstairs toilet clogged and soon began pouring water over the sides of the bowl. My son was yelling for more towels, and as his wife was dashing up the stairs, I heard a funny noise coming from the kitchen. One that I couldn't readily identify. I walked into the kitchen to see if an appliance was sparking or something when splash! Water began to pour out through the light fixture above my head. I quickly pulled kitchen towels from the drawers, and soon we were all in the kitchen trying to mop up the mess. By this time (it was midnight), we were all slap-happy and laughing so hard over the entire night's many fiascos. Really, though, what else could we do? It was Christmas Eve, and it was supposed to be fun and memorable.
We deemed it the best Christmas Eve ever, one we'd never forget. One full of funny, nutty, crazy memories. I think we will cherish this Christmas Eve forever. One day, we will look back and start laughing, and hopefully, we won't be able to stop. Because that's what families do. They laugh. And we did, just like we always do when we are all together--making memories!
I am going to share the funny one for this blog. The other story will come in a couple of days. We are at our oldest son's house for Christmas this year. Our youngest son lives just 20 miles away. So we are able to spend time with both of our sons and their families; however, our daughter is in California this year with her in-laws, and we sure do miss her.
I never know what to expect while visiting my children. I don't know where we will be going, what we will be doing, or who we will be with, but we are always willing and ready to go. We love seeing, going, doing, having fun, and are always up for just about anything! That's just who we are. Crazy, nutty, fun.
Our plans always end up flowing into our sons' plans--we all got together on Christmas Eve morning for brunch (which, by the way, was cooked by my oldest son), and then we opened our gifts. Our 4 little grandchildren (normally there would be 6) were very excited to open their gifts from grandma and grandpa, and in turn, grandma and grandpa received some pretty awesome presents themselves. Our children never disappoint, always giving us such beautiful and thoughtful gifts. They more often than not bring tears to our eyes--at least to mine anyway. Grandma crybaby.
Afterward, it was time for the little ones to take their naps, so my husband and I ran to the store for some last-minute groceries. Later that evening, we went to church with our oldest son and his family. It's a whole new world--going to church with a 1 1/2-year-old and a 3 1/2-year-old. Some of the funniest quotes ever are spoken during Christmas Eve candlelight services, even though it is meant to be a solemn, quiet time, full of softly sung carols, communion, and reflection. For instance, said loudly by my 3 1/2-year-old granddaughter, "Grandma (shaking her candle hard), why aren't these things turning on?" Now, how could I not laugh a little at that funny question?
Also, I must add here that the guest speaker was my son's father-in-law, who is also my 1 1/2-year-old grandson's other grandfather. So, of course, he is going to try to get his grandpa's attention by yelling out periodically, "Grandpa, Grandpa," while waving his little hands. He's so cute. Little kids help to make the services memorable, that's for sure. They give them life!
After church, we all went to dinner — both sides of the family went along, along with some old church friends. All 15 of us. My poor daughter-in-law tried desperately to find a Chinese restaurant that could accommodate us. It was her family's tradition to always go out for Chinese food after Christmas Eve service. Finally, she found one — a really bad one. Smelly, a little on the dirtier, crustier side. Grungy. However, we decided we could brave it, so we prayed hard over our food, " Please God, protect us from getting sick, and proceeded to go on in. It went from bad to worse within a few minutes after arriving. They claimed to have our reservation, and yet we had to wait for quite a while for our table. Once we took it back to our table, though, we quickly realized it was a table for 8, not 15. Hmmmm, what now? Do we just hijack a nearby table? Yes, that's just what we did, and bussed it ourselves too! At this point, I thought we were making a huge mistake by staying, but stay we did. We ordered, and when the food began arriving, each dish several minutes apart, I knew we were in trouble. We never received refills on any drinks, the fortune cookies were literally thrown on the table, and when I went to take my granddaughter to the restroom, I had to clean it myself before letting her use it. All in all, it was one of those nights where you either have to just laugh or your entire night would be ruined. And nothing can ruin Christmas Eve for me. Nothing. Not even bad Chinese food.
We then drove home, and almost before we reached the front door, we were making a beeline for the bathroom. Unfortunately, the upstairs toilet clogged and soon began pouring water over the sides of the bowl. My son was yelling for more towels, and as his wife was dashing up the stairs, I heard a funny noise coming from the kitchen. One that I couldn't readily identify. I walked into the kitchen to see if an appliance was sparking or something when splash! Water began to pour out through the light fixture above my head. I quickly pulled kitchen towels from the drawers, and soon we were all in the kitchen trying to mop up the mess. By this time (it was midnight), we were all slap-happy and laughing so hard over the entire night's many fiascos. Really, though, what else could we do? It was Christmas Eve, and it was supposed to be fun and memorable.
We deemed it the best Christmas Eve ever, one we'd never forget. One full of funny, nutty, crazy memories. I think we will cherish this Christmas Eve forever. One day, we will look back and start laughing, and hopefully, we won't be able to stop. Because that's what families do. They laugh. And we did, just like we always do when we are all together--making memories!
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Think On These Things
Last week, a tragedy occurred in my nation. 28 people died. Most were small children. Shot to death by a young man with mental illness. I do not seek to justify nor explain his actions. I have no words for what happened. I don't pretend to have the answers. I am having a problem processing this horrible catastrophe myself. My heart breaks for the parents who lost their children. I can't begin to imagine their pain.
When I first heard the news, I was at a time, in a state of disbelief and shock, as I believe most people were. I began to pray for the families. I also thought of and prayed for the safety and well-being of my own family — my children, my grandchildren, and my husband. I prayed that God would keep them safe. And I cried and mourned with those who mourned. Broken-hearted would be a good descriptor of my emotions for several days.
As I began to pray and realized that I could not make sense of this outrageous crime, I pondered the whys and hows. A thought began to form in my mind. Yes, I thought of something. A passage in scripture. Something to comfort me. Something to get me through.
When I first heard the news, I was at a time, in a state of disbelief and shock, as I believe most people were. I began to pray for the families. I also thought of and prayed for the safety and well-being of my own family — my children, my grandchildren, and my husband. I prayed that God would keep them safe. And I cried and mourned with those who mourned. Broken-hearted would be a good descriptor of my emotions for several days.
As I began to pray and realized that I could not make sense of this outrageous crime, I pondered the whys and hows. A thought began to form in my mind. Yes, I thought of something. A passage in scripture. Something to comfort me. Something to get me through.
Philippians 4:8
The Message (MSG) 8-9 Summing it all up, friends, I'd say you'll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw, and what you realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies.
So this is what I will do — I will fill my mind with these things. This is how I chose to deal with life and also with death. I will think about these things. It is the only way that I can make sense of, well, of anything. I must filter it through what the Bible says. Because this is a crazy world we live in. Children die before parents, parents grow old before our eyes, and sickness invades the lives of our loved ones. And in my finite mind, my human frailty, my weakness, this is what I must cling to--the words of my God. And, I must practice what I preach. must think of the things of God. Some might think this is a crutch, and I agree. He, God, His word, is my crutch, and I am OK with that.
For some, this would be a very hard thing to do — think on these things. However, for me, it is not. I am, by nature, by God's design, an optimist. I have always been one, and I believe I will always remain one--the forever optimist. It's who I am. I realize that not all are like me. I have to be careful. I do not want to hurt anyone with my positive outlook, with my joy, with my beliefs. Yes, I have to be very careful.
It isn't that I am not affected when horrible things occur in my life; I am. It isn't that I don't cry, mourn, wonder, or ask God why. It's just that once I begin to read my Bible, I am comforted by the words. They are soothing to me. They heal me. I no longer have the need to dwell on the negative. I praise God, for He is--the pure, the best, the authentic. However, most of all, I trust in Him. I will always trust.
And now I will stop talking about the horror and begin talking about the blessings. Because He is--true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best. He truly is all that to me. And He always will be. He is whom I choose. I will fix my eyes on Him.
For some, this would be a very hard thing to do — think on these things. However, for me, it is not. I am, by nature, by God's design, an optimist. I have always been one, and I believe I will always remain one--the forever optimist. It's who I am. I realize that not all are like me. I have to be careful. I do not want to hurt anyone with my positive outlook, with my joy, with my beliefs. Yes, I have to be very careful.
It isn't that I am not affected when horrible things occur in my life; I am. It isn't that I don't cry, mourn, wonder, or ask God why. It's just that once I begin to read my Bible, I am comforted by the words. They are soothing to me. They heal me. I no longer have the need to dwell on the negative. I praise God, for He is--the pure, the best, the authentic. However, most of all, I trust in Him. I will always trust.
And now I will stop talking about the horror and begin talking about the blessings. Because He is--true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best. He truly is all that to me. And He always will be. He is whom I choose. I will fix my eyes on Him.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Advent
My church asked me to write a special blog for this portion of scripture to be read during Advent. This is not a typical blog posting from me, but I wanted to post it anyway. After reading this particular scripture and then spending time praying over what to write, this is what came pouring out of my heart.
Christmas is almost here; it's just a few short days away. There is a lot on my mind. There are gifts to buy for others — neighbors, friends, and family. There's food to prepare and plans to be made. It's a busy, crazy, fun time of year. And yet through all the hubbub of Christmas, I always take the time to settle down and spend quality time with the person whom this particular season is all about. I need to remember Him. To thank Him with a grateful heart, to keep Him at the forefront of my mind and not shove Him into a closet for the next couple of weeks, only to get Him out later and dust Him off--just in case I need Him.
I don't want to have that kind of a relationship with Him. I want my relationship with Him to be one where I sing out loud and clear for all the world to hear. He is the center of my life. He's more important to me than anything else on this earth. The reason for this season.
As I read these verses in my Bible, I heard something that some of us may have missed before. Or maybe we didn't miss it, but we've forgotten about it. Or maybe we haven't even forgotten, maybe we've just chosen not to acknowledge it. Sometimes it's simpler that way. What we close our ears to--well, maybe we can pretend we aren't responsible for.
However, as I study the scripture, I notice that it reads like a command — it has a "thus saith the Lord" quality. We are told to sing! To raise the rafters, to be happy, and to celebrate!
Are you doing that? Am I?
And, because of the birth of Jesus, we are told that God has sent our enemies away! We have nothing to fear ever again! And yet--do we really believe that? And, if He is ever present with us, why are we so afraid?
Personally? I refuse to live that way. Why? Because I believe in what the Bible has to say. I believe in the holy scripture. I believe that Jesus came and died for me. I believe that when I am told to sing, praise, rejoice, fear not, hold on, hang on, that I am commanded to do it all. What stands out to me most in that scripture are the "singing" and "fearing not" parts. Have you ever thought to count the times in the Bible when we are told to sing and not to fear? I have. In fact, I think the more you sing, the less you fear. Huh! Go figure! So yes, I believe in every last promise in this holy book. I guess I figure that if Jesus gave His life for me, well, that's a mighty big statement.
He died so that I might live. He loved me so that I would never have to live in fear again. And I won't. I'll continue to live this fearless life of mine--no fear, for all of my burdens have rolled away, all of my enemies are gone! For He is the mighty warrior who saves, and He did that for all of us--that day long ago, the day He was born.
Sing, celebrate, rejoice, be happy, live fearlessly--and this Christmas raise the rafters praising our God, our Creator, our Father, our King. Don't be afraid! Just sing!
Zephaniah 3:14-20
The Message (MSG)
14-15 So sing, Daughter Zion!
Raise the rafters, Israel!
Daughter Jerusalem,
be happy! celebrate!
God has reversed his judgments against you
and sent your enemies off chasing their tails.
From now on, God is Israel's King,
in charge at the center.
There's nothing to fear from evil
ever again!
Raise the rafters, Israel!
Daughter Jerusalem,
be happy! celebrate!
God has reversed his judgments against you
and sent your enemies off chasing their tails.
From now on, God is Israel's King,
in charge at the center.
There's nothing to fear from evil
ever again!
God Is Present Among You
16-17 Jerusalem will be told:
"Don't be afraid.
Dear Zion,
Don't despair.
Your God is present among you,
a strong Warrior there to save you.
Happy to have you back, he'll calm you with his love
and delight you with his songs.
"Don't be afraid.
Dear Zion,
Don't despair.
Your God is present among you,
a strong Warrior there to save you.
Happy to have you back, he'll calm you with his love
and delight you with his songs.
18-20 "The accumulated sorrows of your exile
will dissipate.
I, your God, will get rid of them for you.
You've carried those burdens long enough.
At the same time, I'll get rid of all those
who've made your life miserable.
I'll heal the maimed;
I'll bring home the homeless.
In the very countries where they were hated,
they will be venerated.
On Judgment Day
I'll bring you back home—a great family gathering!
You'll be famous and honored
all over the world.
You'll see it with your own eyes—
all those painful partings turned into reunions!"
God's Promise.
will dissipate.
I, your God, will get rid of them for you.
You've carried those burdens long enough.
At the same time, I'll get rid of all those
who've made your life miserable.
I'll heal the maimed;
I'll bring home the homeless.
In the very countries where they were hated,
they will be venerated.
On Judgment Day
I'll bring you back home—a great family gathering!
You'll be famous and honored
all over the world.
You'll see it with your own eyes—
all those painful partings turned into reunions!"
God's Promise.
Christmas is almost here; it's just a few short days away. There is a lot on my mind. There are gifts to buy for others — neighbors, friends, and family. There's food to prepare and plans to be made. It's a busy, crazy, fun time of year. And yet through all the hubbub of Christmas, I always take the time to settle down and spend quality time with the person whom this particular season is all about. I need to remember Him. To thank Him with a grateful heart, to keep Him at the forefront of my mind and not shove Him into a closet for the next couple of weeks, only to get Him out later and dust Him off--just in case I need Him.
I don't want to have that kind of a relationship with Him. I want my relationship with Him to be one where I sing out loud and clear for all the world to hear. He is the center of my life. He's more important to me than anything else on this earth. The reason for this season.
As I read these verses in my Bible, I heard something that some of us may have missed before. Or maybe we didn't miss it, but we've forgotten about it. Or maybe we haven't even forgotten, maybe we've just chosen not to acknowledge it. Sometimes it's simpler that way. What we close our ears to--well, maybe we can pretend we aren't responsible for.
However, as I study the scripture, I notice that it reads like a command — it has a "thus saith the Lord" quality. We are told to sing! To raise the rafters, to be happy, and to celebrate!
Are you doing that? Am I?
And, because of the birth of Jesus, we are told that God has sent our enemies away! We have nothing to fear ever again! And yet--do we really believe that? And, if He is ever present with us, why are we so afraid?
Personally? I refuse to live that way. Why? Because I believe in what the Bible has to say. I believe in the holy scripture. I believe that Jesus came and died for me. I believe that when I am told to sing, praise, rejoice, fear not, hold on, hang on, that I am commanded to do it all. What stands out to me most in that scripture are the "singing" and "fearing not" parts. Have you ever thought to count the times in the Bible when we are told to sing and not to fear? I have. In fact, I think the more you sing, the less you fear. Huh! Go figure! So yes, I believe in every last promise in this holy book. I guess I figure that if Jesus gave His life for me, well, that's a mighty big statement.
He died so that I might live. He loved me so that I would never have to live in fear again. And I won't. I'll continue to live this fearless life of mine--no fear, for all of my burdens have rolled away, all of my enemies are gone! For He is the mighty warrior who saves, and He did that for all of us--that day long ago, the day He was born.
I have been a Christian for over 50 years and a member of the Covenant church for almost 20 years. What drew me in, though, was the denominational motto—where is it written?—with the Bible as our source for what we believe.
So I did a little research and thought you might be interested in a few statistics.
The word celebrate is used 68 times in the Bible
worship-108
sing-121
rejoice-235
and the word praise 340 times.
Sing, celebrate, rejoice, be happy, live fearlessly--and this Christmas raise the rafters praising our God, our Creator, our Father, our King. Don't be afraid! Just sing!
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
If I were an Ornament
OK, brace yourselves. I just asked myself the dumbest question. If I were an ornament, which kind would I be? This all came about as I was thinking about what I was going to wear to church this coming Sunday. You see, I've been asked to write something, kind of like a blog post, and then read it to my church. So, my thought this morning was — what shall I wear? Which dovetailed into the ornament question, or was it the other way around? Oh well.
If you know me at all, you know that I am the most casual of casual dressers. In fact, don't tell anyone, but I only own one dress and zero skirts. What? Yep, that's right. And the only reason that dress is still around is that I might just have to wear a dress one day, so its life has been spared.
My closet consists of many (and I mean many) pairs of colored jeans, a couple of pairs of dress pants, tons of shirts, and OK, tons of sweaters. The question is--which pair of denim pants and which sweater shall I wear on Sunday? Oh, and shoes, I have a lot of shoes. I need to ensure they make a statement. And maybe a scarf, since I also have many of those.
So, back to the ornament thing--I have come to the conclusion that I am not a bright shiny ornament. I can fully admit that now. I wanted to be one when I was younger. I tried hard to fit in, i.e., by wearing a dress. But then I realized, as I got older, that I'd never ever be shiny. No, I am dull in color, i.e., I wear jeans. And, I'm OK with that. That is who I am. I am not the shiniest ornament on the tree. However, I have some great friends who are. In fact, last Sunday, one of my good friends was all dressed up in a gorgeous red dress. She looked beautiful. She is taller than I am, thinner, and has lots of pretty jewelry--in other words, she is a shiny ornament. And as I began to look around my little church, I noticed lots of other beautiful shiny ornaments. It seemed as though everyone was dressed festively for the season, and I was not. began to feel a little self-conscious at first and then realized that even if I owned fancier clothing, I would not wear it; it's just not me, and that's OK. Well, it's OK with me anyway, maybe not so much with them.
Yes, I am perfectly OK with being just a plain old ornament--not too tall, not too pretty, not too talented, not too much of anything really. I like just who I am, most of the time. Unless, of course, someone comes along and makes me feel really bad about myself. Then it's a whole new ballgame. I have to analyze a few things, then do some self-talk and pray. After a bit, I am fine again with who God has made me to be. And one thing I'd like to make clear is that I am also OK with how God has made my friends. I like that they are all different — some shiny, some plainer, like me. However, there is one thing they all have in common: they are my friends. I feel so blessed that they are in my life; they encourage me and pray for me, and I know that all I have to do is call out to them, and they'd be here for me in a heartbeat.
All my ornaments--they are from all over the world, some are glass, some are metal, some are made of wood. They are all unique, all beautiful, and all have special meaning, bringing about fond memories. My ornaments, my friends.
While looking at my Christmas tree just now, I found an ornament that best expresses my heart and emotions this season. I guess I am feeling humble today...
If you know me at all, you know that I am the most casual of casual dressers. In fact, don't tell anyone, but I only own one dress and zero skirts. What? Yep, that's right. And the only reason that dress is still around is that I might just have to wear a dress one day, so its life has been spared.
My closet consists of many (and I mean many) pairs of colored jeans, a couple of pairs of dress pants, tons of shirts, and OK, tons of sweaters. The question is--which pair of denim pants and which sweater shall I wear on Sunday? Oh, and shoes, I have a lot of shoes. I need to ensure they make a statement. And maybe a scarf, since I also have many of those.
So, back to the ornament thing--I have come to the conclusion that I am not a bright shiny ornament. I can fully admit that now. I wanted to be one when I was younger. I tried hard to fit in, i.e., by wearing a dress. But then I realized, as I got older, that I'd never ever be shiny. No, I am dull in color, i.e., I wear jeans. And, I'm OK with that. That is who I am. I am not the shiniest ornament on the tree. However, I have some great friends who are. In fact, last Sunday, one of my good friends was all dressed up in a gorgeous red dress. She looked beautiful. She is taller than I am, thinner, and has lots of pretty jewelry--in other words, she is a shiny ornament. And as I began to look around my little church, I noticed lots of other beautiful shiny ornaments. It seemed as though everyone was dressed festively for the season, and I was not. began to feel a little self-conscious at first and then realized that even if I owned fancier clothing, I would not wear it; it's just not me, and that's OK. Well, it's OK with me anyway, maybe not so much with them.
Yes, I am perfectly OK with being just a plain old ornament--not too tall, not too pretty, not too talented, not too much of anything really. I like just who I am, most of the time. Unless, of course, someone comes along and makes me feel really bad about myself. Then it's a whole new ballgame. I have to analyze a few things, then do some self-talk and pray. After a bit, I am fine again with who God has made me to be. And one thing I'd like to make clear is that I am also OK with how God has made my friends. I like that they are all different — some shiny, some plainer, like me. However, there is one thing they all have in common: they are my friends. I feel so blessed that they are in my life; they encourage me and pray for me, and I know that all I have to do is call out to them, and they'd be here for me in a heartbeat.
All my ornaments--they are from all over the world, some are glass, some are metal, some are made of wood. They are all unique, all beautiful, and all have special meaning, bringing about fond memories. My ornaments, my friends.
While looking at my Christmas tree just now, I found an ornament that best expresses my heart and emotions this season. I guess I am feeling humble today...
Friday, December 7, 2012
It's OK to be Sad
It's OK to be sad sometimes. There are just some things that can't be fixed or changed. I accept that. Sometimes. I accept that sometimes we don't get what we want. Or even what we think we want. And during those times, well, I think it's OK to be sad. Just for a little while, just for a bit.
I'm sad right now. It just occurred to me that I won't be seeing my only daughter and my 2 oldest grandchildren at Christmas. Now this is not something new, this just didn't come out of the blue, this wasn't just sprung on me. No, I've known about it for some time. It's just that my emotions hadn't quite caught up with my brain. I knew it in my head, but I didn't know it in my heart. And, even though I will be with my sons and their families over Christmas, I won't be with my daughter, and that makes me sad. I just love it when all of my chicks are safely tucked under my wings, and I feel that all is well with the world. In other words--I want to be with ALL of them.
Yes, it took a while to realize that she won't be with our family this year. And then just tonight, as I was sitting here looking at beautiful pictures of snowy Christmas nights, it hit me that I won't be with my daughter. I began to cry. So, that means blogging. It helps me to blog. It's extremely therapeutic. You see, if I tell my husband about my feelings, or if he (heaven forbid) saw me crying, he would immediately try to fix this unhappy situation. He'd jump to my rescue. It's what he does. He loves me. But he's a fixer. And I don't want to be fixed. Yes, he'd be trying to buy me a plane ticket to be with her over Christmas, or maybe even try to manipulate my daughter into changing her plans. Wouldn't her in-laws love me then?
I'd rather just sit here--cry, rock, type, feel sorry for myself, and feel sad. I'll be OK in the morning. I keep myself really busy. And anyway, there's always next year. It's just that right now I miss my family so much, especially during the holidays. I try hard to not think too much about it. However, you know how it is late at night. Sitting all alone in front of the Christmas tree, with no other lights on in the house. Your mind starts traveling down memory lane, and the next thing you know--boo hoo all over the place.
I miss my kids being little, too. These last few years with them all grown up have been such a hodgepodge of emotions for me — I feel such great pride in who they have become, and, at the same time, sadness because they are all grown up. Where have my little babies gone? Why can't time stand still? At least I have my little grandchildren now. I love them all so much. And I do love being a grandma. But one day soon, they'll grow up too — this sucks...
Am I being a little too honest here? A little too melodramatic? Probably--but that's OK because it's OK to be sad, if even for a little while. And, this is my blog, and I'll write what I want, and I'll cry if I want to.
OK, enough, it's time to stop, wipe my tears, blow my nose, and go watch a sitcom on TV, which always helps. That is, if I can hear the TV over my husband's snoring.
I'm sad right now. It just occurred to me that I won't be seeing my only daughter and my 2 oldest grandchildren at Christmas. Now this is not something new, this just didn't come out of the blue, this wasn't just sprung on me. No, I've known about it for some time. It's just that my emotions hadn't quite caught up with my brain. I knew it in my head, but I didn't know it in my heart. And, even though I will be with my sons and their families over Christmas, I won't be with my daughter, and that makes me sad. I just love it when all of my chicks are safely tucked under my wings, and I feel that all is well with the world. In other words--I want to be with ALL of them.
Yes, it took a while to realize that she won't be with our family this year. And then just tonight, as I was sitting here looking at beautiful pictures of snowy Christmas nights, it hit me that I won't be with my daughter. I began to cry. So, that means blogging. It helps me to blog. It's extremely therapeutic. You see, if I tell my husband about my feelings, or if he (heaven forbid) saw me crying, he would immediately try to fix this unhappy situation. He'd jump to my rescue. It's what he does. He loves me. But he's a fixer. And I don't want to be fixed. Yes, he'd be trying to buy me a plane ticket to be with her over Christmas, or maybe even try to manipulate my daughter into changing her plans. Wouldn't her in-laws love me then?
I'd rather just sit here--cry, rock, type, feel sorry for myself, and feel sad. I'll be OK in the morning. I keep myself really busy. And anyway, there's always next year. It's just that right now I miss my family so much, especially during the holidays. I try hard to not think too much about it. However, you know how it is late at night. Sitting all alone in front of the Christmas tree, with no other lights on in the house. Your mind starts traveling down memory lane, and the next thing you know--boo hoo all over the place.
I miss my kids being little, too. These last few years with them all grown up have been such a hodgepodge of emotions for me — I feel such great pride in who they have become, and, at the same time, sadness because they are all grown up. Where have my little babies gone? Why can't time stand still? At least I have my little grandchildren now. I love them all so much. And I do love being a grandma. But one day soon, they'll grow up too — this sucks...
Am I being a little too honest here? A little too melodramatic? Probably--but that's OK because it's OK to be sad, if even for a little while. And, this is my blog, and I'll write what I want, and I'll cry if I want to.
OK, enough, it's time to stop, wipe my tears, blow my nose, and go watch a sitcom on TV, which always helps. That is, if I can hear the TV over my husband's snoring.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Voice Box
I just remembered something. I was caught off guard, just minding my own business, drying my hair, actually. When I was reminded of something. A long time ago, when I was still just a little girl, I met someone. He was a relative of my father's. I remember being at a relative's house, a family gathering of sorts. This particular man could not speak. He didn't have a voice box. I was told after the fact that he had had cancer and it had been removed. So, to communicate, he had a little gizmo he held to his throat, and he would begin to talk in a robotic-sounding voice.
It scared me a little; I was still pretty young after all. I would watch him listen intently to the others in the room, and then when he had something to say, he'd sort of wave his arms around, put the gizmo up to the place where his voice box should have been, and talk. How sad. No voice. No way to sing. I'm not kidding, that's exactly what I thought when I met him. No way to sing.
I only remember ever seeing him once. However, he impacted my life. I never ever want to be without my voice. You see, I want to be able to sing and praise my God until I take my very last breath. And, just to let you in on a little secret--even if I do end up having to talk through an external device--well, you'll still be hearing me. I'll be singing, shouting, praising, and worshiping. You bet I will.
I've got a voice, I've got hands, I've got a message, I'm going to get the word out any way I can. I'm not going to wait until I lose the ability to sing and praise. I'm not going to wait until my arms are too old and tired, too filled with arthritis. No, I'm going to do it now--loudly, happily, exuberantly before my God.
And, I'm glad I met that man so long ago. He gave me the courage not to worry about what anyone else might think of me. He gave me the courage to speak out for God, to sing to Him. With my own voice box. I am not ashamed of who I serve, believe in, and trust with all my heart. No, I am not. So I will sing. Loudly. Thankfully. Gratefully. Hands held high. Face turned towards Him. Heart melted. Singing...
It scared me a little; I was still pretty young after all. I would watch him listen intently to the others in the room, and then when he had something to say, he'd sort of wave his arms around, put the gizmo up to the place where his voice box should have been, and talk. How sad. No voice. No way to sing. I'm not kidding, that's exactly what I thought when I met him. No way to sing.
I only remember ever seeing him once. However, he impacted my life. I never ever want to be without my voice. You see, I want to be able to sing and praise my God until I take my very last breath. And, just to let you in on a little secret--even if I do end up having to talk through an external device--well, you'll still be hearing me. I'll be singing, shouting, praising, and worshiping. You bet I will.
I've got a voice, I've got hands, I've got a message, I'm going to get the word out any way I can. I'm not going to wait until I lose the ability to sing and praise. I'm not going to wait until my arms are too old and tired, too filled with arthritis. No, I'm going to do it now--loudly, happily, exuberantly before my God.
And, I'm glad I met that man so long ago. He gave me the courage not to worry about what anyone else might think of me. He gave me the courage to speak out for God, to sing to Him. With my own voice box. I am not ashamed of who I serve, believe in, and trust with all my heart. No, I am not. So I will sing. Loudly. Thankfully. Gratefully. Hands held high. Face turned towards Him. Heart melted. Singing...
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Busy, Busy
Wow, to say I've been busy these last several weeks would be an understatement. And the next few weeks ahead, fortunately, yes, I said, fortunately, look just the same. In fact, the next few months look busy, and that's just how I like it. Busy, busy.
I guess God made me that way. I don't need a lot of downtime. I don't sleep a lot, I don't rest a lot. I move a lot. As in, I never sit still. Maybe that's why I like writing, it forces me to sit. I love to read too, which also forces me to sit a spell. I guess you'd call those times the times I relax. I just need a little bit each afternoon, to read, to write, to reflect. That's what I'm doing now. I'm reflecting.
As I sit here typing away on my laptop I'm thinking about the little boy that I've agreed to support for the next several years. He lives in the Republic of Congo. My little church, my friends — between us, we are supporting 70 Congo Kids. I am elated. I get to help, even if it's just in some small way, I get to help. So, this morning I was putting together a little gift to mail to my little boy. He is as cute as a button. The minute I saw his little face, I knew I wanted him. He reminded me of my nephew, who is now in heaven. He has the same eyes and the same serious little look. And because of his little face, he became my little boy in the Congo. It's strange sometimes, what God uses to draw us to others.
Anyway, back to my gift for him — it has to fit in a 6x9 envelope. What? What in the world could possibly fit in an envelope that small? World Vision offered some suggestions that sounded so boring to me. I was more than a little upset. Why? Because I wanted to give that little boy a Christmas like I used to give my children. However, because of the volatile location of the world in which he lives, I can only send him little bits at a time. And that makes me sad. Very sad.
I have gathered stickers, pencils, notepads, and a harmonica! Yes, a blue harmonica. I am praying that it makes it through customs and that it is not stolen or broken on its long journey to the Congo. I am also including a picture of my husband and me and a Christmas card to let him know how much we care. My husband is also supporting a little girl from the same village. Guess who did her Christmas shopping? I'll give you a clue, it wasn't him! That's OK, though, as long as she receives something, she'll be happy, I'm sure.
So yes, it's been busy, busy around here. After Thanksgiving, I hit the ground running. With internet shopping, mall strolling, house decorating, party planning, and card writing--I am busy. But, oh, how I love it. Coffee with friends, browsing my little town, driving through streets filled with beautiful Christmas lights, thinking about God and how He has completely and wonderfully blessed my life--yes, I am busy, busy--and that's just how I like it.
I guess God made me that way. I don't need a lot of downtime. I don't sleep a lot, I don't rest a lot. I move a lot. As in, I never sit still. Maybe that's why I like writing, it forces me to sit. I love to read too, which also forces me to sit a spell. I guess you'd call those times the times I relax. I just need a little bit each afternoon, to read, to write, to reflect. That's what I'm doing now. I'm reflecting.
As I sit here typing away on my laptop I'm thinking about the little boy that I've agreed to support for the next several years. He lives in the Republic of Congo. My little church, my friends — between us, we are supporting 70 Congo Kids. I am elated. I get to help, even if it's just in some small way, I get to help. So, this morning I was putting together a little gift to mail to my little boy. He is as cute as a button. The minute I saw his little face, I knew I wanted him. He reminded me of my nephew, who is now in heaven. He has the same eyes and the same serious little look. And because of his little face, he became my little boy in the Congo. It's strange sometimes, what God uses to draw us to others.
Anyway, back to my gift for him — it has to fit in a 6x9 envelope. What? What in the world could possibly fit in an envelope that small? World Vision offered some suggestions that sounded so boring to me. I was more than a little upset. Why? Because I wanted to give that little boy a Christmas like I used to give my children. However, because of the volatile location of the world in which he lives, I can only send him little bits at a time. And that makes me sad. Very sad.
I have gathered stickers, pencils, notepads, and a harmonica! Yes, a blue harmonica. I am praying that it makes it through customs and that it is not stolen or broken on its long journey to the Congo. I am also including a picture of my husband and me and a Christmas card to let him know how much we care. My husband is also supporting a little girl from the same village. Guess who did her Christmas shopping? I'll give you a clue, it wasn't him! That's OK, though, as long as she receives something, she'll be happy, I'm sure.
So yes, it's been busy, busy around here. After Thanksgiving, I hit the ground running. With internet shopping, mall strolling, house decorating, party planning, and card writing--I am busy. But, oh, how I love it. Coffee with friends, browsing my little town, driving through streets filled with beautiful Christmas lights, thinking about God and how He has completely and wonderfully blessed my life--yes, I am busy, busy--and that's just how I like it.
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