Ft Morgan, AL BeachTrip

 My thoughts while walking along the beach. "Life is like nature. There are stormy days. There are calm days. 

There are days like the ocean. You're peaceful but there are areas of sand from the storm like the water, you must gently flow around the mound.

And days after the storms, your breath is taken away by the most beautiful black shell, beauty you would never have seen without the storm bring it to shore."

Memory at lunch at The Sassy Bass: the song, Take it Easy by the Eagles was playing...so young, so long ago, when I dreamed of living life at the beach...and today. I am not living here but I am experiencing it. Life is unexpected, it has not turned out the way I planned it when I was planning my future.

But now, in this last period of my life, it is showing me who I was created to be. 

I am not living here at the beach, but I am experiencing life here, at the beach. 

I have weathered the storms, I've been beaten up against the rocks, I'm sashed up on the shore now. I hope people see me like the black shell, tossed but beautiful. 

Lord, You gave me a love to write. I have put the gift away in the drawer for so long that I don't know how to use the gift anymore. Abba, help me open the gift, help me to use it, let it flow from my heart to my pen. Unlock the words You have put in me. Unleash the joy I find in writing. May my pen flow like water, may the gift heal my heart, restore to me what has been gathering dust and turning to ash.

What's my Testimony?

Someone once told me my testimony reminded him of something CS Lewis said...Lewis described his journey coming to know Christ like going out on a motorcycle ride and coming back a Christian. 

I find my story to be like CS Lewis'. I had a beginning and then a slow drawing nearer to God. 

I was raised in a single parent home by a bipolar mother. My father was an alcoholic father. No one in my family went to church so God's name was a cursing word by the adults around me. I did not know of Jesus or of His love for me. I searched for feeling loved and being seen in all the wrong ways through my performance, other people, and unhealthy relationships. No one told me how God loved me in all of my sin and mess or what Jesus did for me at the cross so I could live with Him forever and know that love here, now. 

As a child, I remember looking at the stars and wondering if God glued them in the sky every night. God was showing Himself to me and so my slow journey began. 

In high school, I was one of those people who judged Christians as losers. I am sure God chuckled at that knowing what was in store for my life.  I must admit my foolishness and their wisdom.

While in College studying the Renaissance and Reformation, I became curious and I began looking for God. At the same time, life got a bit rough around me. My boyfriend of 5 years was killed by a drunk driver and my father was diagnosed with cancer. I was lost but God kept dropping little kisses of His love and kindness around me. I began creeping towards God very slowly and at some point, I cannot say when exactly, God became the essence for my life and living. I continue to learn more about His lovingkindness every day, I see His creativeness and attention to detail everywhere in nature and in the faces of His children. He is beautiful.

Over the years I have had many bumps and bruises with many miscarriages, a divorce, and deaths of friends and family, I was constantly moving and starting over as a military spouse, but God never left my side. He relentlessly pursued me dropping His kisses of kindness around me. His presence sustained me through all the pain and loss.

I found starting my day in prayer, worship, and reading His Word gave me strength when I felt weak. The reassurance of His love for me found in His word has helped me through every had situation life has thrown at me. Each time I sit down and am quiet with God, He speaks exactly the words of encouragement I need. When lift my eyes up to Him, He shows me who He is, and all the panic and anxiety is replaced by the perfect peace He promises to those who honor Him, 

God has kept me surrounded with Christian friends who are His hands and feet of love to me. He gives  me joy and peace which transcends all understanding on the good days and the bad.  Jesus promises this to all who follow Him. 

My Heavenly Father gave me these words of promise during my divorce:

"Then justice will dwell in the wilderness;
    and righteousness will remain in the fruitful field.
17 The work of righteousness will be peace,
    and the effect of righteousness, quietness and confidence forever.
18 My people will live in a peaceful habitation,
    in safe dwellings, and in quiet resting places," (Isaiah 32:16-18)

And God has done this for me. This is my journey. 

Recitals and Lost Things

 Twirly dresses, shoes that make noise, big bow in the half pony tail. Barney marathons...

I went to a recital today. I remembered other recitals, ratings of superior from competitions. 

I hear a baby cry today. I remembered my sweet girl on the floor in the little apartment as I recorded her kicking her feet to the classical music. 

I remember a dance recital when you were 3 and the boy with Downs Syndrome was scared and she took his hand and got him through it. 

I remember her visiting her great-grandmother and tenderly putting lotion on her hand. 

I remember how much she wanted to ice skate. I remember driving her to Kettering when we finally lived some place she could take lessons...the trip to the outdoor rink in Atlanta was a bust and trips after Macon Whoopie games sporadic...although there was a rink in Montgomery but we weren't there very long  and one time she skated while visiting her Grandma in Wichita, this made the long drive to KS worth it. 

I remember rainy days and tea parties and watching Pride and Prejudice. 

I remember "making a run to the border" on Fridays for our Taco Bell lunch. 

I remember Bible Study and Chick Fil A. 

I remembered driving her to Macon, Cedarville, and Salem for the piano lessons. Driving for dance lessons, driving to Awana, driving to Cheerleading...driving...

I remember her learning to drive in VA...on Garrisonville Rd...telling her she was too far to the right. She didn't believe me. She believed me when the passenger mirror hit the other cars' driver mirror. Ooops.

Today, I saw a blonde boy in a vest with his guitar at the recital. I remembered the little boy that just HAD to have a guitar. He lasted about 5 lessons.

I remember the little boy who wanted to play hockey since he was 4 and at 6 he got a try hockey for free. He hated the swim practices I had signed him up for and loved the Learn to Play hockey. 

I remembered the vest as he ice skated his way through competitions. The ice skating came in handy for the hockey. More driving. 

I remember him with his tool box staying occupied during his sister's dance dress rehearsal and the squirming at the recital.

I remember stitches in the head from climbing things, slipping, and being the object of his sister's wrath. I remember broken bones and sleeping in the recliner with the ice machine.

I remember him meowing like a cat when waking up from dental work. 

I remember driving miles and miles for his hockey in rain, snow, moonless nights, but oh, the conversation was priceless. 

I talked to a friend after today's recital about her chemistry homework. I remembered my other blonde child's love of biology and her trying to teach me the periodic table. I remembered the little girl with the power points of her favorite animals. The drives to the ice rink with her talking and explaining science and other topics. 

I remember Blue Bear who had to travel with us everywhere. 

I remember nursing you and you would hear a plane, point to the sky, and say, "See? See?" You couldn't see the plane but you could hear it...hearing equaled seeing.

I remember your Pillsbuy doughboy laugh coming from the backseat. My heart melted.

I remember my spring bulbs never coming to fruition because the little blonde had picked them all and scattered the petals across the lawn or made "soup" with them. 

I remember a little girl who danced so well she was promoted up, not winning me any points with the dance moms who had daughters not promoted up...but she refused to dance any more. Why? She hated recitals.

I remember her swim lessons. She could swim forever. Watching her run was like seeing a gazelle in the wild. She picked up a bow, shot an arrow and was asked to join the archery team. She was a natural athlete but preferred to read a book. It's funny how gifted she was athletically, if she had the desire, she could have gone far, especially with hockey...but did I mention how she preferred a book? I liked she had an inquisitive mind. 

I remember a picture of this science-girl in an ice skating outfit holding her hockey stick carrying her hockey bag...oh, and the picture of her in a dress with her stick and bag. Unique. 

More driving for this child, too. Her hockey games required sttanding next to the ice in the penalty box until 10 at night. I loved it. She had grit...and then...More driving,

I remember Tuesday nights leaving the rink and picking up Chinese to watch NCIS with the girl who would know all the lines and quote them by heart. 

I remember the girl who made sure I had my water before I did all the shuttling to the ice rink...the girl who would text lunch orders from school, who wanted a ride to school even when we lived next to the school, or would text wanting to come home early because she had all her work done. 

I remember her love of soup...from her first soup at Panera in MA as a one year old to the girl who wanted homemade soup so much I bought a cookbook with 300 soup recipes. 

I loved being their mom. 

I remember. They don't.

Lost things.