Tag Archives: mother

Flock

Care for the flock that God has entrusted to you. Watch over it willingly, not grudgingly, not for what you will get out of it, but because you are eager to serve God. 1 Peter 5:2 NLT

Here is today’s word and page. The verse says it all. This is truly where I am right now in life. Posting this from my phone and signing off to spend the evening with my love, after I read to a child, of course.

Purple

She makes her own bedspreads. She dresses in fine linen and purple gowns.
Proverbs 31:22 (NLT)

Today finds me in Proverbs 31I knew immediately I was going for purple, my favorite color.

I began with a base of Inktense purple.

Then I waited and looked through magazines for inspiration, and this happened.

I don’t have a step-by-step, but here is today’s creative process described by one of my children who spends quite a bit of time with me.

Aighty, so my mom worked for three hours straight (no exaggeration and no bathroom breaks) on this one page, constantly saying, “Oh, this looks pretty good, but it looks like I could add something.” And she sat there flipping through all on-hand magazines with her bony tendrils trying to find the thing that the picture looked like it could use. Finally, she said, “This looks good.” AND THEN SHE SAID, “But wait…. it could use something….” Eventually she accepted the fact that it looked fine and she just went with what she had.

I guess time really does fly when you are absorbed in what you love to do, and I needed this creative space today. (And I am positive I took bathroom breaks.)

Here is the open journal. I find it interesting that purple is opposite mountains. Also, there is something added after the above page was finished. Because it could use something.

I really love this page. And here is a post about one of the Proverbs 31 women in my life. I love her a lot, too.

Now it is time to put this day to rest.

Goodnight, Friends!

Focused Writing

It is God’s privilege to conceal things and the king’s privilege to uncover them.
Proverbs 25:2 (NLT)

My day began with these words. Pondering the privilege of discovery I wrote, Jesus, what will I discover today? Little did I know. It is only half over.

This day is full of mixed feelings. My heart is acutely aware of its longings and desires and the difficulty of being finite. As dear friends converge in Seattle to begin Externship training and others gather in Austin in anticipation of the Brave On conference, I am here doing what I have been called to in this season.

I have been called to stay and uncover what it is God has for me in this place, under my own roof, with my own people. Instead of packing a suitcase and saying goodbye, I am unpacking our story and saying, I’m here.

Here looked like quite an adventure on the ride to school.

Teen son was up and about early enough to drive. I sat in the passenger seat and Little Mae was in the back. The careful drive began.

At a slow intersection while stopped at a sign, student driver put the car in park to adjust his seat. There were no other cars around, it was not a dangerous situation, but my anxiety began to mount.

Opening my mouth to begin a lecture, another sound came from the back seat. A frantic, terrified, gutteral scream rose from somewhere inside Little Mae. My heart stopped as I looked out the side window, fully expecting to see that we were the victims of a car-jacking.

SPIDER!!!!!

Turning in the direction of her scream I saw a huge spider on the back of my headrest.

Pass me a tissue.

I spoke in the calmest of voices, fully expecting a lunge, scurry, or sudden movement from the spider and the ensuing chaos that an inexperienced driver and panicked 10 year old would bring.

I was not thinking that I would have to feel the spider through the tissue as I gripped it gently and tossed it out my window that, somehow, I had rolled down. I felt it. I did not squish it.

A collective sigh released from us all as the driver took the left he had planned. We debriefed the series of events and how good it was that the car was stopped and not driving. We laughed and maybe cried (not the driver), and my heart continued racing, flooded with adrenaline, well beyond morning drop-off.

Everyone made it safely to school. I made it home. The day continued.

Washing breakfast dishes, I looked up to see a pink flower blooming on the hanging plant above the sink. It is a transplant of this one and a special sign to me. I posted its picture on social media and a friend commented tradescantia/spiderwort .

Of course! Spider redemption, if only in word form. I had to laugh as I rejoiced that I now had a focus for today’s writing.

Moments of Laughter

Not all has been sad in my world. Though the tears often eclipse the smiles, I am trying to focus on the splashes of joy that creep up and surprise me. One of those moments happened last Saturday.

It was a rare afternoon plan that came together at the last minute. Two of our daughters were at a middle school retreat, our youngest was with her cousin, and teenage son was recovering from a band all-nighter.

Steve’s planned weekend away with friends was postponed, leaving him home unexpectedly. We decided to seize the opportunity for a real date away from the house. That is an important part of the equation. This was a last-minute plan.

We decided to visit Crozet, an area Steve had traveled to for work and wanted to return to together. We would do wine tasting, get lunch, and end with coffee, keeping all of the activity together in the same location.

Another key point of this story is that it was bachelorette weekend for our soon-to-be daughter-in-law. I found this out on Labor Day from my adult daughters. They were attending the weekend festivities to be held near Charlottesville.

For this reason, I wanted to avoid wineries in that area and keep it all in Crozet. That is why we chose King Family Vineyards over Jefferson Vineyards .

Our drive over the mountain was relaxing. We marveled over getting away and actually doing something fun. Though overcast, it was not raining, and we enjoyed conversation. When we arrived at the vineyard and pulled into the parking area, Steve received a text from our oldest.

I think you would enjoy being the person behind the counter doing wine tastings for people (my paraphrased version of her words).

I would! Mom and I are at King Family Vineyards to do a wine tasting  (my paraphrased version of his response).

Immediately Steve’s phone rang with our daughter’s voice on the other end.

That is where we are right now!

Looking up past the parking area and towards the tasting room we saw her running towards us. At picnic tables on the lawn beyond, with a bountiful spread of food and several bottles of wine, were 18 women celebrating the bride-to-be.

I could not believe it. Laughter was my only response. That and profuse explanation.

I had intentionally stayed off of the bride’s social media sites to avoid creeping on the events of the weekend. I had intentionally chosen a winery that I was certain they would not choose (though if I had investigated further, I would have noticed that this one accommodates large groups, which I learned in the tasting room).

We said hi to our daughters and daughter-in-law (to be) and laughed together at the coincidence. We made it clear that we were there to do our own tasting and would not intrude on their picnic space. We made a crazy pre-wedding memory that could not have been planned.

And there was joy.

Menu Plan

I am no Heather. I realize this. She inspires me, though, and allows me to be just who I am in all of my imperfection and mess. Though I try to resist comparison, it sometimes creeps up on me. When this happens, I work to change my thought pattern to one of inspiration.

One area of struggle for me is menu planning. I have a mental block, an aversion, to it, though I have prepared hundreds of meals and fed my large family daily for years. In theory it should not be this difficult, but in practice it is another matter.

Recently I was in Heather’s kitchen and noticed her menu written on a chalkboard hanging on the kitchen wall framed by an elegant frame. There was a Scripture verse printed on it, opposite the week’s menu. My mind went to the white board in my kitchen and to the possibility of writing a menu plan in similar fashion.

I decided to take action when I arrived home, claiming the lower left corner of the board for my  plan. I listed Monday through Sunday and wrote down what I would prepare each day. At the end of each day I wiped off the day’s meal and wrote what I would fix the following week.

In essence it is a continual meal plan. A continual feast.

It has been a few weeks and the new menu plan has been serving me well. Now if I could get the grocery list under control!

For the curious, this is what my kitchen whiteboard looks like today

It’s not the most beautiful and could use a Scripture verse or two, but it’s doing its job. And my grocery list rhymes.

Free Bread

It says card declined.

The cashier looks at me inquisitively. I return his gaze. I have no idea why my bank card would be declined. I insert it again.

Still says card declined.

His face grows bored. The checkout line lengthens. I glance apologetically at those waiting, wishing I had tossed the checkbook into my purse this morning.

Ok. I’m going home to get my checkbook. Can you keep these to the side for me?

My cart waits at Customer Service. I exit Food Lion full of second thoughts about today’s grocery visit. Maybe my card knows something I do not and is trying to keep me from the constant grocery spending hemorrhage that seems to be taking over.

Daily I stop in for bananas or bread or milk. There is always something written on the marker board in the kitchen. I don’t have my usual photo of it but certainly I can remember the items.

apples, oats, both kinds of bread, butter, block of cheese

There is marked down meat, always a find. I add it to the cart with the apples. Rounding the back of the store I remember bacon and coffee cream.

What else was on that list again? We need juice for lunches.

I am glad to see that juice is on the same aisle as oats and add two boxes of Capri Sun to the cart.

Piling items on the checkout conveyor I remember butter and cheese. Hoping that the lady in front of me will move slowly, I run to the dairy aisle to grab them.

Returning with time to spare, my card is declined and I drive home for my checkbook.

Bread! That’s what I forgot. Two kinds of bread!

At Customer Service, one of my favorite cashiers collects my check, making small talk as she enters data into the register. I ask if I can leave the cart there to grab bread.

Oh! You could have gotten bread first and paid for it here.

I assure her it’s okay, hoping it will give me a chance to see what’s up with my card. I grab four loaves of bread and enter the express checkout line.

Another friendly cashier rings up my purchase. I laugh over the events of the day when she asks how I am doing.

Somehow I continue to hold the illusion that I will get my act together one of these days!

Yeah. those ducks are hard to get in a row.

Mine are quacking all over the place!

Laughter ensues as I insert my card only to have her tell me,

If you have ninety cents that’s all you need.

Looking at the screen, I see that the total is $12.90 but that I have earned $12 in rewards, making the purchase $.90. Surprised, I fish through the change in my wallet, taking out quarters and nickels to make up the difference.

For a minute my ducks all lined up and handed me free bread, and it was beautiful.

Change of Plans

I’m sorry I don’t have any quarters.

The cashier apologizes while fishing through her drawer for $.58 in coins to add to the dollar bills handed me as change for my $6.42 purchase. I quickly pass the paper money to my husband and prepare my hand for the pile of coins she is counting.

That’s okay. I actually prefer dimes.

I am speaking truth. I do. Dimes remind me that I am seen and that there is enough ~ enough money, care, resources. I watch for them and notice where they appear. On the floor of a closet I am cleaning, in the dryer, on a walk, there they are. I collect them.

We say goodnight as my husband, dog, and I exit the neighborhood Dollar General. I am grateful for its re-opening in time for the start of the school year. It is my go-to for last-minute necessities that arise. Along with the needed item, I feel care in my hand, heavy with coins.

Would you keep these coins in your pocket for me until we get home?

My husband obliges, and I pick up the pace, eager to see how many dimes I will find when we arrive.

This Sunday night is different than last when I was anticipating back to school week for my children. They headed back to school, then one returned to do school at home this year. With this change of plans came uncertainty, sitting in the tension between withdrawl from one program and application to another.

I know this  unexpected turn of events is for the best this season. That is how we do it, year by year. I am thankful for resources, space, and time. For knowing my focus.

I am thankful for an unexpected handful of change containing no quarters and four dimes reminding me again that I can trust.

All will be well.

 

Changing the Narrative

Julie, Hi!

Her smiling face sits down across from me in the coffee shop. She wears a colorful print top in shades of blue tied with a loose bow at the scooped neckline. A dragonfly pendant accents the look. With all of this loveliness, it is her smile that draws me in, open and kind.

You’re hard at work!

Actually I am attempting to work, but I am not succeeding. Not yet, anyway. I am using a window of time in between band camp drop off at 7:45 and a 9:00 snack help shift to collect my thoughts. I say as much as I close notebook and planner, creating more room on the surface of the small table for two.

I’m trying to atone for all the years I couldn’t help when my older kids were in band and I was home with the littles.

I think you need to change that narrative.

Her smile remains open and kind, but her eyes pierce through to my soul. I steadily continue engagement, feeling the pain of that truth landing somewhere deep. Laughingly I agree, trying to explain how I am somewhat kidding.

No, I’ve heard you speak that way before. I think it really needs to be kinder. We do what we can. The guilt is thick there.

In two minutes she has heard my sound bite and nailed it to the point that tears come to my eyes as the conversation comes to mind. I am reminded of why I love this woman and am grateful for her presence in my life whenever our paths intersect.

She is on her way to work, waiting for coffee to brew, a treat to herself on this first day back. We have precious few minutes to connect, but they go deep and real. Quick summer updates from each of us follow until I see her tall to-go cup placed on the counter by the barista and know our time is up.

She rises to collect her order and continue moving through her day. Pushing open the coffee shop door, she turns and says, Give the band kids love from this mama.

We do what we can when we can. Today that is what I will do.

Bridal Shower Grace

Do you want to lead grace before lunch next Sunday for the shower?

Yes. I would be honored. Would love to pray a blessing over the beautiful bride-to-be and the occasion.

It took courage for me to respond to this text exchange in the affirmative. My mind began processing what I wanted to say in front of many women I did not know and several that knew me all too well.

The morning of the shower, after coffee and quiche, when the first wave of family had left to finish preparations and decorations, I sat in my room in the quiet. Pulling out Bible and prayer notebook, I looked at the day’s reading.

I Thessalonians was on the agenda. I read.

But let us who live in the light be clearheaded, protected by the armor of faith and love, wearing as our helmet the confidence of our salvation.
1 Thessalonians 5:8, NLT

These words anchored me and reminded me that in my nervous insecurity, the only armor I needed was faith and love, not distance and defense. When my thoughts wandered to places of fear and inadequacy I could stand in the confidence of my salvation and allow that to be a helmet to protect my thoughts.

I journaled a prayer into my notebook which became the basis for the bridal shower grace.

I did not write the actual blessing out, and it was not recorded in real time, but these words came to my heart and were written down that morning as I pondered what to say.

Jesus,

Thank you.
You have brought us to this place, and we are grateful. Bless those who have poured into Dana, poured into this day. The overflow of love from her is a testimony to the love that fills this room.
Thank you.
Thank you that we are not left to do life alone. Thank you for Caleb and Dana’s people. Thank you that you nourish our hearts with faith and love as you nourish our bodies with food.
Bless this space, these people, this food. Thank you for those who have prepared it and who serve us today. May we be strengthened in faith, hope, and confidence to serve one another. And be with our  people not here who have enabled us to share this joy together. What a gift we have been given.
It’s all grace.

Amen