God, it’s me.

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Good morning, God. It’s me.

I’m up a little earlier than usual this morning. I’ve made my coffee. I’m seated in my office, at my small black desk, to meet with You.

As usual, the house is quiet this time of morning. All I hear is the ceiling fan above my head, an occasional car passing by my front window, and the faint snore of our favorite Jack Russell sacked out in the living room. No doubt he is curled up next to one of my littles who are sleeping soundly after last night’s late movie – a fun, relaxing way to spend a Friday night with family.

I, on the other hand, couldn’t keep my eyes open. Not long into the movie, I retreated to my room to find sleep. So here I am, awake at 5:30 a.m., sitting in the calm of the morning with you, Lord. Exactly where I need to be. Continue reading

A Letter to My Mom

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Dear Mom –

Sometimes I get the feeling you’re not so sure you were a good mother.  You probably recall every mistake you made, every word you wish you had not spoken, every “yes” that should have been “no”, and every “no” that should have been “yes”. Like most moms, those memories tend to stand out the most when we ponder our role as a mother.

But please allow me to reflect on my growing up years and share with you what I remember. 

I remember feeling loved and valued and protected.

I remember a mom who allowed me to sleep on the floor of her bedroom when the darkness in my own room scared me.  A mom who never humiliated me during those years of bedwetting (even though you must have thought it would never end).

A mom who was always watching from the kitchen window as I made my way home from the bus stop.  One who listened – really listened – as I chattered non-stop about my day. 

I remember a mom who always believed in me, long before I believed in myself. My biggest cheerleader. My greatest supporter. One who often told me I could do anything I set my mind to and believed I really could.

I remember a mom who was my greatest advocate, whether it was trying to talk dad into buying me the latest name brand jeans or making sure my sleep was not interrupted after a long, stressful first day of work.

And then there’s that mom, the one who let me go when letting go was the hardest thing ever.  One who delighted in giving me my fairy-tale wedding, then secretly mourned when I moved hours away with my happily-ever-after. The one who opened her heart – and her home – to us when we returned to Arkansas a few years later.

The mom who was there for the birth of every grandchild and great grandchild, regardless of how long the wait. The one who continues to hold a special place in the hearts of her grandchildren because her grandchildren first held a special place in her heart.

This is the mom I remember. This is the mom who remains today. This is the mom who still makes me feel loved and valued and protected – and that alone is proof that you’re a good mom. 

I love you, mom.

Today I Found Peace

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Today I found peace.  Which is a big deal for me.  Especially since that peace came as I prayed my grandson through a medical procedure.  The fact that this peace centered around him and his heart condition is even more amazing to me.

You see, in case you haven’t picked up on it yet, I tend to worry. Specifically when the well-being of my children (or that sweet grandbaby of mine) is threatened.  I’ve been known to panic when I think one of them may be, or is about to be, seriously injured.  My husband and kids can attest to this, and it’s not a pretty site.

The good thing about my panic mode is that it calls me to action, forgetting all else except saving that child.  Comically, I’ve pulled off some rather amazing feats in response to those incidents that could have ended badly throughout the years.

Like the time I miraculously slid across the floor, on both knees, grabbing hold of my toddler just before he took a steep fall out the front door.  Somewhere between dismounting from the bar stool and saving my toddler, I launched my full plate of food (which was sitting in my lap) straight at my unsuspecting brother.  At the end of the fiasco, not only was he quite impressed with my mad ninja skills, but he was most certainly surprised to find himself wearing my dinner.  Thankfully, he was a good sport about it.

The crummy thing about my panic mode is that it almost always leaves me in a state of tears, feeling emotionally spent.  Even if my crazy antics (and no doubt, God’s beautiful grace) bring us to an acceptable outcome, I can’t help but consider what may have happened.  Those lingering what-ifs wreak havoc on this momma’s heart.

Yes, there are times I am able to take my thoughts captive and push those what-ifs out of my mind.  But at other times, they are a bit more stubborn and I’m a bit weaker, and I find myself back in that familiar place of worry and panic. A place that is anything but pleasant.  It destroys my joy.  It closes off the peace my heart so desperately needs.

As a woman of faith there is no doubt I love God, and there is certainly no question as to His great love for me, my children, and my grandchild.  As much as I love Him, I still worry at times.  And I hate that.  But even though I worry, He remains faithful, patiently teaching me that He can, indeed, be trusted.

So do you know what I’m doing, my friend?  I am learning to trust.  To surrender these difficult situations to Him, even when — especially when — I’m scared they may not turn out as I think they should.

No, it’s not easy; but little by little, I am learning to trust. Guess how I know?

Because today, I found peace.

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.  Not as the world gives do I give to you.  Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid. (John 14:27)