A New Dress, A New Perspetcive

I went shopping today, on my lunch break, for a dress to wear to my son's graduation. Now, this may not sound momentous but, I have to say I can not remember the last time buying clothing for an event like this was such an easy delight. Like many women I have had a long and difficult relationship with my body, or more truthfully body image. My first husband was concerned from our earliest years together that I would become fat. As things between us became strained food became a source of comfort for me. I've long moved past that, mostly, but I like food-I like to cook, I like to share a meal with friends, chocolate is more than a weakness (more like my kryptonite!) I still weigh more than I "should". (I really hate that word, but that's another post) But I have become comfortable in my skin, I am learning to embrace my curves. I consider myself curvaceous and Rubenesque. And today, instead of trying on dresses and feeling fat & ungainly (what do they do to make dressing room mirrors so unkind?) I saw a lovely, mature, happy woman. I bought I dress I liked, that flattered, not one that would do. I indulged in new shoes too and went back to work content.
It was not until now, several hours later that the magnitude of these events has struck me. I am free of self-recrimination, I will wear this dress confidently and I am (at this moment anyway) having no feelings of angst about sitting through my son's graduation dinner with my ex-husband, and his much younger, much thinner wife. Wow, what I feeling! If you have never felt too fat, too thin, too old, too young, to anything, you may not appreciate the wonder of this moment for me. The lovely, confident woman I was 25 years ago has finally found her place again. I know I am beloved and beautiful in the eyes of God.
I will come to you and fulfill my good promise to bring you back to this place. For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,” declares the LORD, “and will bring you back from captivity I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you,” declares the LORD, “and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile.” (Jeremiah 29:10-14).
It's funny, isn't it how the littlest things can make us realize just how far we have come. I was almost dreading buying a dress, but I wanted one, so I decided to risk chipping away at my ego a little more. Instead I discovered I don't hear those bitter lies any more, and truth has take their place.

(The painting is oil on canvas by Peter Paul Rubens, entitled The Union of Earth and Water)

Are you afraid?

I stayed too long in a bad relationship because I was afraid. Afraid of admitting I'd failed again at finding love, afraid I couldn't manage without the paycheque he brought home, but eventually I was more afraid of what the environment we were creating for our daughter, who was so fearful she could hardly bear to leave my side, even among people she loved and trusted. If I am utterly honest it was not the first time I found myself staying too long because forging out on my own was scary. But in the end leaving, moving on, starting over, was the best thing to do, and I now look back without regret.
What are you afraid of? I know I have discussed fear here before, but fear seems so prevalent I can not help but return to it again. Are you afraid to open your heart again to new relationships for fear of getting hurt again? Are you always waiting for "the other shoe" to drop, never allowing yourself to fully experience all the joy of the moment you are in? Does someone who looks or speaks differently than you, who also expresses uncertainty or fear cause you to question who they "really are?
Indeed there is evil in the world. There are people plotting ugly, evil things. Yes, you may get hurt, yes, life is not all sunshine and roses. On the other hand, what are you missing out on by fearing the people around you? I am inherently and almost painfully shy, I know all too well the fear of man. But as I learn what it means to put my fear where it rightfully should be I am learning to live my life more openly and freely than I would have thought possible.
The LORD is my light and my salvation;
Whom shall I fear?
The LORD is the strength of my life;
Of whom shall I be afraid? (Psalm 27:1)
As I learn what it means to truly fear the Lord, to love Him with honour & reverence, and as I learn who I am in His sight all of my personal fears and doubts begin to pale.
I suppose it may be a little hard to appreciate until you begin to see it manifested in your sight.
In discussing this with a friend recently I expressed surprise that he was truly so unsure of his fellow man...and his response was that we need to be cautious and wise. But there is a fine line between wise caution and fear.

The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom;
A good understanding have all those who do His commandments.
His praise endures forever.(Psalm 111:10)

I have have grown the most, learned the most about myself, about what God has called me to do, and about His unfailing faithfulness and provision in those times when I had to step out and face my fear head on.

And the covenant that I have made with you, you shall not forget, nor shall you fear other gods. But the LORD your God you shall fear; and He will deliver you from the hand of all your enemies.(2 Kings 17:38-39)

I am so very thankful I know where to turn when fear gets the better of me. I still have doubts, there will always be things that frighten me, but I've read the end of the story, and I know who wins in the end. (Spoiler alert: We do!)

The Potter and the Cly

Play-Doh and Crayola crayons. I admit I still enjoy these particular remnants of my childhood artistic endeavours. They did get put aside once I discovered the joy of the written word, but there are few things as tempting to me...and even when I had no small children about I had a big box of Crayolas stashed away. I have fond memories of my grandmother making homemade play dough for us, and of the pleasure of creating endless things with it at the kitchen table. Is there anyone who doesn't smile with pleasure when handed a new box of crayons or a soft ball of play dough? Oh, they may hold back, and be reserved at first. Give them a moment...it'll come back.


Some days are just lacking in inspiration....some days the ball of play dough is just that, a mass of clay. Other days it becomes a variety of things, changing shape almost on its own in my hands. I'm so glad God isn't like that with us. Yet you, LORD, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand. reads Isaiah 64:8, daily He reshapes us, perfects us. He has a purpose in mind for us and He shapes us to that end, unlike play dough in my kitchen we are not mere playthings, shaped and moulded only for amusement.
I like the story in Jeremiah, although it is about judgement and disappointment in the potter, where God send Jeremiah to observe a potter (Jeremiah 18:1-10) The potter is at his work, shaping a vessel, but seeing it is flawed and will break when it is fired the potter undoes his work and begins again. Being moulded and shaped is not easy, but in the hands of the Master we become ready to withstand the furnace, and become strong and useful.

That said, if you're feeling stressed or uninspired today, go, find yourself a box of crayons (treat yourself to a big box that you don't need to share!) or a canister of play-doh (make some, the stress relief is doubled in the kneading ) and play a little. Feel the joy of the Creator as you create. Trust me in this. I was feeling quite lost as to what to write today, and I needed to write, to keep a promise to myself, when my daughter handed me a small ball of silly putty. It was enough. Let yourself play.

The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new

Tomorrow is Mother's Day. Hopefully children of every age will take at least a moment to remember and to honour the women who gave them life and who helped (or are helping) them navigate their way into adulthood.
This is about the "other" side of Motherhood. Being a mom, not having a mom. Thursday morning I will mark the day 18 years ago.my life shifted forever and I took on a whole new identity, I became a mom. I think most mothers are crazy proud of their children, have infinite love for them, and incredible aspirations for them. No one else can fill you, in equal measure, and sometimes in one moment, with such overwhelming joy and such heart-rendering sorrow. No matter how many you have they are all your favourite. It is no small thing to look at these amazing individuals and know God entrusted them to your care and that you will have a part in every thing they do and everything they are. Abraham Lincoln said: "I remember my mother's prayers and they have always followed me. They have clung to me all my life."
My oldest son, is ready to spread his wings and fly the nest. In just two weeks we will celebrate his completion of high school. He is eager to take on the world, to start his adult life. I'm not so ready to let my little boy go. I look at this man-child and still see the little boy who curled up under my arm for a story.
His brother will not be far behind, although two years younger than his brother he will graduate next year, and I will have to watch another baby fly. But I have been letting them go all of their lives. When their dad and I divorced I thought that would be the hardest thing I would suffer, and then a judge decided they were better off living with their dad and step mother. I was sure my heart would break beyond repair. Somehow we weathered that storm and built strong and nurturing relationships in spite of the roadblocks (or perhaps because of them, I really don't know). I feel very close to both of my sons, even though we don't see each other often. I have tried to be available and open to help them face whatever life brings them.
Their sister, my lovely miracle child is only just beginning to realize there is a world and a life without me in it. While her brothers are approaching the end of their school years and looking toward university life, she is just finishing the first grade. And while I have been separate from my sons, the opposite is true for her. It is just the two of us.
I think all of us look for a reflection of ourselves in our children. We hope what we see looking back at us is the best of us, we struggle to make peace when it is not, or is a reflection of someone else (especially hard for those of us who no longer love that other parent). It's hard not to pin our own hopes and forgotten aspirations onto them and to let them find their own dreams. Someone said having kids is like letting your heart walk around outside your body. I never fully appreciated my own mother until I had children of my own. And now I regularly feel like I ought to call her and apologize for all the battles over broccoli and putting down my book long enough to do my chores.
There was a time in my life when I wasn't sure I wanted children. Today I can not imagine my life without them. I still hope to make my mark on the world, I still have dreams for my life, but I know that I have made my mark, three times. I can only hope my children know that I love them beyond measure, there is nothing they could do for that love to cease, and that I am so proud of them. There is no moment when they are far from my thoughts, they are the very beating of my heart.
Thank you, Christopher, thank you, Andrew, thank you, Emily for making me a mom. Thank you, Father God, for giving me these three beautiful gifts.

Broken & Beautiful

I would offer you the best of me

But my heart has not been kept in a velvet box.

In living & loving it has become chipped & scarred

Broken & beautiful it is all I have to give.

Would you want it untouched, untried?

For once it was so;

Pure, fragile

But

Every mark is a memory

Every flaw a story-

My story-

Love & loss

Pain & joy

Me.

It's been one of those days. Nothing awful, or cataclysmic ( I like polysyllabic words-they are so much fun to drop into a conversation), nothing particularly special or marvelous either. No grand illuminations from above, no nagging self doubt. Just an ordinary Thursday in an ordinary week.
And then I got an email from a friend I hadn't heard from in a while. It's funny how the smallest things can make a whole day seem better. The thing is you have to watch for them and welcome them. The gas I bought this morning cost less than I expected, the mammogram I had scheduled today took less time than I planned, and I even got in early. There are a thousand little things to celebrate.
Mother Teresa said “Every time you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing.” Thank you for the gift of your smile today.
I call heaven and earth as witnesses today against you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing; therefore choose life, that both you and your descendants may live (Deuteronomy 30:19)" Indeed, choose life, choose to see joy and wonder.

What small miracles did you experience today? What made you smile?

Grant me patience Lord, but hurry!

I admit it. I am not a very patient person. Not with myself and certainly not with other people. I want things, and people to fit into my timetable, my schedule. Don't these other drivers realize I'm tired & I want to go home? And can't these folks understand that it's time to slow down, take a breath, it's not the end of the world? I'm working on it though. I've been thinking about new friends I've made. I'm fairly open about who I am, what I want in a relationship. I keep walls up with most of the world, but leave doors and windows open for those I want in. And because this is how I choose to conduct interpersonal relationships I find people who keep everything shuttered and locked away frustrating. I don't need open access to every corner of all my friends' lives, but I have some expectation of being met with equal openness. I know it's an unfair expectation. I did not expect my children to walk because I could, or to read at an equal level with me once they mastered the alphabet. It is equally unreasonable of me to expect someone else to respond on my timetable to life's challenges. I still bristle a little when I remember how people responded to me when I was still reeling and sorting out the pain and loss of my first divorce only months after the fact. (In truth, its been 15 years now & sometimes some seemingly minor incident can send me right back there-I just recuperate in minutes now, not days) It made me angry. Sure, they were over the shock of my marriage ending, but I was still living with it day to day. I know, from experience we all recover, move forward and learn at our own paces. So why do I still find myself expecting this friend, or that one, to get over whatever they're dealing with and catch up with me? We are all on a journey together. I can not walk the road for anyone but myself. I may want my chosen companions to keep pace with me, but they may walk slower, or more quickly. They may stumble on stones I stepped over, they may be able to avoid getting scratched by thorns that made me bleed. All any of us can do is keep our eyes fixed on our destination, follow in the footsteps of those who have made trails ahead of us, and be a beacon for those coming behind. Isn't that what Jesus did for us? How often did He take the disciples aside and explain things to them again? They watched Him multiply a small boy's lunch to feed a hungry crowd and only hours later they reacted in fear when a storm threatened their boat. I wonder if He ever shook His head, sighed and wondered it they'd ever get it. But they received the same help we do in the Holy Spirit....is it any wonder one of the fruits of the Spirit is patience? I wonder if these minor inconveniences are in part designed to teach me patience? Are these times when I ought to be listening for the voice of God, passing on His words of encouragement to those coming down the road in my footsteps, instead to trying to hurry them along? God has been infinitely patient with me as I learn and grow, surely I can offer the same grace to the people in my life.