The Limp of Love

Proverbs 31:2-3

“What, my son? And what, son of my womb? And what, son of my vows?”

The circle of life is loving deep... And then letting go. “A time to embrace, and a time to 

refrain... A time to speak and time to be silent.”

In the midst of pride and celebration, I feel overwhelmed with loss and even sadness.

 For with every new beginning, somewhere there is ending.

I have sat in the front row of this life since it's conception. I have witnessed, lived and felt deeply, the joys of it's accomplishments, the moments relished, the experiences lived. 

My own hands have been used by God to weave a childhood and shape a life, and it seems now, that at the culmination of these precious years in our nest, these work-worn hands of mine are left to hang limply at my side. Unasked for and unneeded.  

As the curtain rises on Act 2, I’m finding my seat. I’m no longer on the front row. The years of being behind the scenes, tidying a wayward curl or whispering forgotten lines are coming to a close. And I admit, I am sad to see them go. I’m a few rows back now, watching with pride and hope as others step in to take their places for new seasons of growth and change. Now I cheer from the stands, part of that great crowd of witnesses, shouting my conviction,

“Keep the faith, my son,

Run to win!”

I think of Jacob, wrestling all night with the Angel. In the end, he walked away 

with both a blessing...and a limp. It was a long night, but he never stopped wrestling. 

He never let go. 

I see myself in Jacob. 

I, too, leave the arena after a great wrestle; the wrestle of parenting a soul through 

his growth from babyhood into manhood. From first steps, to the first kiss; through the 

learning of the satisfaction of a job well done, and the discovery of the joys, and sometimes 

heartaches, of friendship; the many thoughtful gifts and the learning of some things

 the hard way.

 Watching in awe as the Savior - 

                                                                                    saved YOU.

As He turned your ashes into beauty every time. 

Like Jacob, I leave the wrestle of these years. 

I leave with a limp. My limp is the pain of Love.

The cost - of Love.

That pain of letting go, and yet knowing I will never be able to completely let go. 

Some people make the mistake of living vicariously through their children, 

but in doing so they forfeit the living-out of their own life.

Some people live for their children,

 cushioning them forever from life’s blows until they stop desiring independence. 

And some of us find our way through, to living lovingly alongside them. 

Though apron strings must be cut, heart strings will forever bind. 

I will forever soar with your joys. And ache with your sorrows. 

This is the sometimes painful ‘limp’ of Love.

But as Jacob left with a blessing, I too,  leave these years of carrying you - 

with a great Blessing.

My blessing is that my son is now a man. 

A man who loves. A man who loves deeply and cares for others. A man who is full of 

compassion for the hurting. A man full of creativity and abounding with fresh ideas and strong character.  A man of God.  

A man who will someday go on to love a family of his own with a fierce love that was learned at the knee of his father and mother, gathered into the warm embrace of our family’s love. 

This is my blessing. 

“Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb is a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior, so are the children of ones’s youth." Psalm 127:4

When You Want A Great Marriage

“You make Us great." I whispered the words to my husband one night as I lay in bed after another day of learning about love from watching him live it out real and raw.

 The words came from deep within. Spoken with the conviction of eyes that have watched him forgive – when it would have been so easy to resent. 

They came with quiet awareness- from a heart that had known an embrace, though I stood with arms crossed, trembling in my rebellion. Here was one who entreats, when I am at my most stubborn. This man has shown me Christ.

 Grace.

 We don’t earn it. We never deserve it. We can only give it and receive it. Like the gift that it is.

 I don’t know how many times grace has come to the rescue in this long journey of two becoming one flesh. I have lost count as the days have turned to years.

 But gratefulness drives me to change. It’s while standing in the light of someone’s choice to show you grace, when deep down you know how undeserving you are, that you see it most clear.

 That this kind of love, chosen and given, can build a beautiful life.

 Two becoming one is so much more than the beautiful mystery of sex, two bodies joining. It's the greater mystery of two hearts finally merging into one, that beats together, in rhythm and unison, pumping the blood of Christ into the dead places and making them live. And sing. And soar.

 The road there leads down before it leads up. It brings us low in surrender. Obedience and submission yield their own fruits. And we are the blessed. Love begets love and life begets yet more life.

Enough to keep a home warm and safe, and plenty left over to share with others, too.

It's become a saying now in our married life. Spoken with gratefulness in the moments of awareness that we have received from the other- the Gift of Grace, undeserved.

 "You make Us great."

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Enjoying Life

I caught a beautiful sunrise this morning. Sitting on my back porch with a steaming cup of coffee and my Bible open wide, I read these words,

" Behold, what I have seen to be good and fitting is to eat and drink and find enjoyment in all the toil with which one toils under the sun the few days of his life that God has given him, for this is his lot.  Everyone also to whom God has given wealth and possessions and power to enjoy them, and to accept his lot and rejoice in his toil—         this is the gift of God.  For he will not much remember the days of his life because God keeps him occupied with joy in his heart." Ecclesiastes 5:18-20

How had I never seen this before?   I heard the call to enjoy this life God has given me.

This messy, imperfect, beautiful life he has gifted me with.
I'm taking God up on His promise to keep me 'occupied with joy in my heart'.

I figure if I'm going to start enjoying my life to the fullest, why not start now? This morning? And so I put aside all the pressing, to do something I'd enjoy. I must do this before the moments all pass me by.

I decided I would bake a recipe I'd been wanting to try.

Cinnamon Sugar Bread



You can find it here if you want to try it. I pinned it on pinterest with the intent of trying it 'one of those days' and here we are.

I had a helper with my task, making it even more enjoyable. Meet 2 year old Kate, complete with bed-head hair:

Around the time my assistant and I were measuring in the 3rd ingredient I began to realize that in my zest for enjoying my life  I had forgotten to check if I even had all the ingredients on hand needed to make this recipe...

Sugar? Uhmm. No.
Milk? I was out.
Cinnamon? Just a smidge.

So, you may be wondering how one makes Sugar Cinnamon Bread with no sugar or cinnamon...

We turn it into Hazelnut Pumpkin Spice Bread!  'Cuz that's how we roll.

I substituted the white sugar for the brown I did have, used pumpkin pie spice instead of cinnamon, and the milk? Well, mix up some water and Hazelnut Coffee-Mate and hello! You have a cup of white liquid that actually looks just like milk! Go figure. My baking assistant proclaimed it "tastes good", so there you have it folks.

Five minutes later, this bad boy is ready for the oven...

  

K

 I'm pretty sure that batter was finger-lickin' good, and Katie was happy to help clean the dishes...





And, are you ready?

Kate and I have eaten 5 slices between us, delicious. I'll save the remainder for the rest of the troops when they come home from school.

Wishing you a day of joy, rejoicing and enjoying the life God has blessed you with. It may not always have all the ingredients you are hoping for... but you have what you need to make something wonderful...









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Did you enjoy reading The Alaba

What Can I Give?

Coming to consciousness this morning, prayers in my head if not yet on my lips, I heard this from the Still place within:
 
     "Focus on giving today, not getting."

It was given like a key from the One who loves me best and wants everyday to be my best. I felt this splash of joy that opened me up inside. Anticipation came into my heart as I thought of simple ways I could focus on giving today to all those around me...

I could give a clean kitchen to my husband and children (and myself!) which had been left a bit chaotic after my (now) 13 year old son's birthday party that went late last night...

I could give a peaceful and joy-filled heart to my kids because I would take the time to get filled up with the word and quiet time with my Father before they awake this morning...

I could give an open home and heart to my friend's children who would be spending the day with us as she went off to work...

And to God... what do you give the Someone who has everything already??


 I could give a sacrifice of praise on my lips even though my heart's felt a bit heavy lately...
I could give obedience to the things He's said to complete...
 I could give trust that He's handling the things I can't  (hasn't He earned it?)...
 I could give thanks, true heart-felt thanks, all day, as I remind myself of all I've been blessed with.

I'm on the hunt today. A treasure-hunt of my own to find ways to give. And in doing so, I'm imitating my Father (bonus!) I'm setting my inner-dial of focus on giving.  I'm anticipating giving. The joy of giving. The blessing of giving.

  "It is more blessed to give than to receive."

Let's Celebrate!

Perspective is such an amazing thing. You and I could both look at the same house and give a completely different description of it. How? One standing in the front, the other in the back. Same house. Different views.

And the thing is, we'd both be right.

Perspectives on life come from our experiences. These 'facts' we've come to know within ourselves. They shape our view of what's without.

Trying to explain to your kids why doing such-and-such is not good for them, why A, B and C will be the result if they continue on a certain path is often lost on these young(er) souls.

Why did God give us, the parents, the wisdom of experience, but pair us with children who don't have the slightest interest in taking advantage of it???   Exasperation!

Now my oldest children are marking their journey through the teen years (side-note: whoever coined the term 'terrible twos' must not have hit the 'terrible teens' yet, just sayin').   And the wonder and admiration I feel for my own mother grows with
                                        each
                                               passing
                                                           day.



Now I know...
      that even though she seemed 'so old' (right?) she was really just a young woman trying to figure it out.

 Like me. With each new decade of my life it's like I turn a new corner and a whole different view opens up. The things that really are absolutes solidify with each passing year.  And the things that I just thought were important are minimized, eventually fading into a faint memory of who I was.

I know now that my mama did the best she could with what she knew then.   And you know what?

 It was enough. Grace filled in the gaps.

Now I know...
      that nothing makes you ache like the pain of watching your children hurt. I'm sad for all the anguish I put her through. The sleepless nights filled with worry. Though I didn't believe it then, I know now her love ran true.

 I can see now that though I was unaware, her love was my anchor during my own turbulent 'terrible teens'.

Still her love leads on.

A lighthouse in the dark times.

A touchstone that keeps me grounded.

Now I know...
    the power of  the prayers of a faithful mother. How in her weakness she drew down strength from a heavenly source. For herself. For me. Prayers whispered in the night from my mama heard by the Father.

Who can measure the power of true prayer? Still I reap the far-reaching influence of her prayers. The ones prayed then.  The ones still prayed today.

So grateful am I....Spurred to pour out myself in prayer for my own children. Knowing that as I do

               they are being wrapped

                                        in the supernatural. 


Mother love is supernatural. Full of the self-sacrifice mirrored in the greatest Sacrifice. 


Mothers are lay-down lovers. And is there really any other kind? 


I'm thankful to have one.   Even more thankful to be one. 


Mother's Day is usually billed as a day for others to celebrate us. But really, we are the ones who should be celebrating. We are the ones who have been given the gift.

Because Motherhood is a gift.

Now go celebrate.

On My Doorstep

Yesterday I saw how there are some advantages to city life. Reading all these blogs recently of the home-schoolin' mamas, raising their families in the wide-open spaces so they can give them the simple life, it's had me wondering if I'm missing it with my own kids.

Saturday - What A Day!

    The sun beckoned me even before I opened my eyes. Saturday. Thoughts of coffee and toast with cinnamon sugar drove me from my bed. The day stretched out before me. Finally a day with nothing pressing for attention, and even the things that were had been filed away to the back of my mind to handle some other day. Any other day. Just not today. It was Saturday.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

            The boys had some friends over this weekend. All night video game marathons and lots of ice cream were on the menu. House guests always get me evaluating the atmosphere of our home. A place usually inhabited by the same six people living life together day-in and day-out, suddenly joined by a few new faces. What do they feel in our home, what's their impression?  There's no pressure to be any different than we usually are, of course, but I wonder if our interactions are similar to those they experience in their own home, or vastly different?

Someday We'll Miss This

            As I lay in bed last night trying to fall asleep I kept feeling crumbs in the sheets. No matter how fervently I swept them away, I could still feel them. Maddening. Later when my husband came to bed, he asked in frustration, "Where's my pillows?" Truth be told, I had one of them (making a grand princess total of three for me!) and I remembered his other one had been used earlier in the day for one of the kid's forts. After he finally got situated, lying there in the dark, I heard the inevitable question, "Why are there crumbs in our bed!?" Why indeed. I smiled into the darkness. "Kids. Someday we'll miss this."