Month: May 2013

For the Love of Mamas:)

I shudder to think what would happen to this world without mamas. God knows there is nothing better that a mama’s love, and there is no greater privilege than being a mama. I was blessed with a sweet mama, and being a mom blesses me more than anything else in this world. I thank God for the loving mommy He gave my granddaughters and delight in hearing them laugh and play throughout the day. A mama’s love is a taste of God’s love, and I have learned to run to Him, as I ran to mama, with my arms and heart wide open. 

God loves openly with the abandon of a mama, and He expects me to love the same way. I am learning to let go of relationships that are not loving and move away from the dysfunction of disconnection. There is safety in dysfunction and disconnection, and I’ve hidden my heart in one form or another of both for most of my life. My heart’s anchor was yanked loose when I lost mama four years ago, and it’s proving to be a good thing for my heart. My heart was out of balance, and my anchor needed to be yanked up out of the mud. God has shown me clearly what He desires and does not desire for my heart, and I understand love better now than ever before in my life. I got a bite of bitter discord this week that left a terrible taste in my heart, but I also had a lavish display of love that left me filled to overflowing. I have a choice when it comes to love, and I choose to love with my whole heart and leave the rest to God. 

I have always loved my son with abandon, and I always will. I don’t think about loving Him, and I never worry about him loving me. Tyler gave love a new dimension when he entered my life thirty-three years ago, and his beautiful daughters and my daughter-in-love have taken it to an even higher plain. Lillyann just came running down to my room to show me the paper cut she got while she, mommy, and Mylah were reading bedtime stories. My heart just melted as she showed me her boo boo. What a blessing to be able to be part of this sweet little family and share those little boo boos. I told Lillyann that there was nothing that made a boo boo feel better than mommy’s love, and she agreed. Thank you God for the love of mamas and for letting me experience it on so many levels and in so many amazing ways:)

Tyler & Me at 33

Chocolate Lessons:)

God used chocolate to show me the importance of spirit when connecting to others. As I gathered with the ladies at church last night for the annual Ladies’ Chocolate Night, I felt the sweet spirit of kindred hearts enjoying not only the delicious treats, but also one another’s company. There was a sense of unity and love that left me full and sweetly satisfied as headed home. I didn’t imagine I would get any sleep because I don’t do caffeine, and I had a lion’s share of it along with loads of sugar with all the chocolates I enjoyed. I didn’t care if I slept or not; the loss of sleep was well worth the time of connectedness.

I got into bed and began to thank God and figured I would at least get in a lot of praying:) I started to pray, and the next thing I knew was sunlight coming in the room. I smiled and marveled at how God works. My body may have been full of caffeine, but my spirit was full of love and peace. It was a wonderful night by all accounts, and I thank God for placing me at the gathering. I even won a prize for knowing the most chocolate treats without hesitating. I can’t remember when I’ve laughed as much as I did last night, and that was better than the icing on all the cakes:)

God bid me to step back this week and take a good look at the connectedness in my life. I was so blessed by seeing all the powerful connections I have the privilege to enjoy. Feeling a beautiful connection is the best way to see ones that aren’t what they should be. God showed me clearly that spirit is the most important element in connection. I saw healthy and holy connections in His light and knew that I was where He wanted me to be. I love the way God uses all to teach and help me stay on the path He has in mind for me.

Walking in God’s kingdom is about making and maintaining positive connections. It is also about letting go of that which I know isn’t what He desires. The best way to determine what is and isn’t pleasing to Him is the presence or absence of His Holy Spirit. There is unity with His Spirit, and that’s just what I felt in the midst of the gathering last night. It’s what enabled me to sleep like a baby and feel like a kid. Both are excellent indicators that I’m on the right path:)

Chocoate Lessons

Sweet Friends

Lilly’s Prayer:)

It was late when I finally got the girls settled into bed because they were still filled with all the excitement of mommy’s graduation. They were so adorable as they clapped enthusiastically for everything and looked around in awe. Lillyann clapped when mommy went across the stage and clapped again when she came down the steps to return to her seat. Mylah just clapped the whole time and grinned knowing she was part of something exciting:)

After I got Mylah to sleep, I turned my attention to getting Lillyann ready to go to sleep. Like me, she doesn’t shut down as easily as Mylah:) I was humbled and tickled at the same time as I listened to her pray. God knows that humor and humbling go together perfectly if I’m willing to see the lesson and laugh at myself. I bent my head and sat with my hands folded as Lillyann prayed. She lifted my head and told me to pray while she did. I smiled and began to thank God for loving us and then followed her model of thanking Him for everyone and everything I could think of:) Children’s prayers are filled with thanksgiving, and I needed to remember that.

I was deeply touched when Lillyann prayed, “Thank you for my daughters.” I heard mommy’s prayers in hers and joined in and thanked God for my granddaughters:) Praying together is important, and I was happy to be praying out loud with little Lillyann. I always suspected that she may lean toward pentecostal worship given her energy and need for movement. That’s okay because one of my favorite poems is “When Mahalia Sings.” It’s a wonderful reminder that worship is about an individual relationship with God  and can take many forms.

When Mahalia Sings by Quandra Prettyman.

 We used to gather in the high window of the holiness church and, tip-toe, look in and laugh at the dresses, too small on the ladies, and how wretched they all looked-an old garage for a church, for pews, old wooden chairs.
It seemed a lame excuse for a church. Not solemn or grand, with no real robed choir, but a loose jazz band, or so it sounded to our mocking ears.
So we responded to their hymns with jeers.

Sometimes those holiness people would dance, and this we knew sprang from deep ignorance of how to rightly worship God, who after all was pleased not by such foolish laughter but by the stiffly still hands in our church where we saw no one jump or shout or lurch or weep.
We laughed to hear those holiness rhythms making a church a song fest: we heard this music as the road to sin, down which they traveled toward that end.

I, since then, have heard the gospel singing of one who says I worship with clapping hands and my whole body, God, whom we must thank for all this richness raised from dust.
Seeing her high-thrown head reminded me of those holiness high-spirited, who like angels, like saints, worshiped as whole men with rhythm, with dance, with singing soul.
Since then, I’ve learned of my familiar God-He finds no worship alien or odd.

If you haven’t heard Mahalia sing, then you’ve missed something wonderful. Her love for God is evident, and she doesn’t contain that love but rather lets it flow beautifully from her whole body. I love Quandra Prettyman’s poem, and I love my pentecostal friends. I’m finding that worshiping with my whole body feeds my soul in a powerful way, so I’m raising my hands more and not worrying about what anyone else might think. Loving God and worshiping Him takes on many beautiful forms, and I know He loves each and every expression of love offered up to Him. Whether it’s a moment of silence in a hectic day or a high-spirited voice raised in praise, they all say the same thing. “I love you God!” The most important element of prayer and worship is love, and it can be whispered in solitude or shouted from the rooftop.

God reminded me that all worship blesses Him, and a dear friend reminded me that worship is a gift from God. The heart of God is at the heart of worship, and that’s all that matters. He wants to bless us, and He loves it when our love lifts prayers and praises to Him. Whatever its form, worship is about stopping for a moment, thanking God,  and letting Him know how very much I love Him. Lillyann started and ended her prayer with, “Thank you God,” and I believe that’s a great model to follow. Thank you God indeed!!

Lilly:) 

Molded by the Mess

I thought about God’s messages over the past month as I went to sleep last night. Sometimes, I want to flee the mess and hide from this world, but God reminds me that my heart is in the mess in a way that bids me to stay and love as He desires. As I talked to Tyler when he came in very late after a grueling day at work, I knew I was were I needed to be. His sweet thank you for supper lifted my spirit and warmed my heart as only a loving child can. The smallest gestures mean the very most in the midst of the mess. I had allowed my heart to get off track, but Tyler helped my heart regain its balance.

Like the little weed pot from yesterday, my heart must be put to the lathe before it can be molded as God desires. The cutting away is painful, but the mess does an even better job than that sharp lathe if I give my mess to God. He uses it to cut away and create the me His love sees and so wants me to become. I had the image of a wood turner trying to shape a vase while it was wiggling, worrying, and wondering what was going on. I had to giggle at the notion of a piece of wood arguing and questioning the turner:) I’m glad God giggles when I wiggle and worry because if He didn’t, I’d be a pile of sawdust on the floor. He patiently holds me to the mess and whispers calming words through His scriptures.

When I turn to His Word, He uses the mess to turn and mold and make me into His creation. Like that block of wood, I can’t see what the turner sees. I have to trust that God knows what He is doing before I can stop my wiggling and worrying. I get buried by the mess at times, but God is faithful to dust me off and start turning again when I let the Holy Spirit put me back into His hands and be still while He does what He does best. God’s love tempers the turmoil in my heart and allows me to surrender to the turning. Repentance is turning, and it is only in the mess of this world that I can recognize my own sin and let Christ’s precious love turn me around so I can molded by the mess instead of being buried by it.

Lesson in a Weed Pot:)

God used a little weed pot carved by a dear friend to teach a lesson in walking in His kingdom. He knows my heart better than anyone, and He bid me to not lose heart when the path presses in on me uncomfortably.

I was feeling lonely after having the girls all weekend and then finding myself alone in my room last night. I breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed when the kids got in from Atlanta, but then loneliness got the best of me. I found myself wondering if I was on the right path. I prayed for guidance and decided to trust God with my heart and my hurt. He is always faithful to give me just what I need when I ask, and this morning I awoke to the image of my little weed pot and its very narrow opening. I immediately felt God’s reassurance as I thought of the open space beyond the tiny neck of the vase.

God’s kingdom also has a very narrow opening. Matthew 7:14 says, “For the gate is small and the way is narrow that leads to life, and there are few who find it.” NASB

Sometimes, I get caught in that narrow opening and wonder if I will ever be able to get through to the beautiful space I know awaits; but God reminds me that squeezing is part of the process, and hurt prepares my heart for open space. When I find myself scared, alone, or frustrated, I remember the cross where Jesus carved an opening with His love that forged the way for me to walk in God’s kingdom. It cost Him everything. Christ asks that I be willing to let go of my stuff and my need to know what’s next so I can follow Him through that narrow gate. 

There is comfort in small paths when I know I am heading in the right direction and realize that there is no room for trepidation to tread alongside. When I leave fear behind, the path is the perfect size. I decided to do just that this morning, and I’m very thankful for the breathing room God gave as I let go and let Him lead the way.

Little Weed Pot

Dead Ends

God placed the image of a very familiar dead end street in my heart this morning. I haven’t thought about Mrs. Norton in a very long time, but God reminded me of the strange little woman who lived near my childhood home. Mrs. Norton captured my imagination as I watched her walk up and down our street each day, talking to herself and ignoring all of us. There were many rumors about her, and I was shocked to learn that she had once been a school teacher. Her husband was dead, and she lived in an old Victorian home that was in a little glen at the end of a dead end street near my home.

Mrs. Norton had long toenails that curled upward, and her cheeks were covered with rouge. Her hair was a mess and her clothing disheveled. Anytime I asked about Mrs. Norton, my mother would warn me not to talk to her. She also told me, in no uncertain terms, that I was never to go anywhere near her home. One day, my sister Edie and I threw caution to the wind and decided we were going to see the inside of her home. Curiosity got the best of us, so we ignored mama’s warnings and headed down that dead end street.

The house had been grand at one point in time, but that point was long gone. There were rumors that she had once been a very wealthy woman. Her house had the appearance of the classic haunted house, and my knees were knocking as we walked up the rickety steps to knock on the door. I’m sure Mrs. Norton was used to kids knocking on the door and running away. The windows of her home were broken, so I suppose some threw rocks to prove their courage. Our curiosity was stronger than our common sense, so we waited for her to come to the door.

She did come to the door and even asked us to come in. I thought of Hansel and Gretel and of mama’s warnings as we ventured in. She was kind and told us to stay near her because the floor was filled with holes and stacks of all sorts of things. I remember the books; they were everywhere! It was dark and musty inside, and there were cobwebs on everything. She brushed them aside as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do, but I didn’t like brushing against them! I don’t remember much about that visit, but I do remember that she gave us books. We ran home excited about our adventure and our treasure.

Mama was not happy when she saw those books and found out where we had gotten them. She never did spank me and rarely raised her voice, but she put Edie and me in the tub and scrubbed us until we were pink all over. She was especially attentive to our hair, and I suppose she was concerned about lice. The books went straight into the garbage can, and our clothes were put on the back porch. Edie and I never went back to Mrs. Norton’s, but we had a grand adventure that we shared with the kids in the neighborhood. We both decided it wasn’t worth another one of mama’s scrubbings to revisit her. Besides, she said she would tell daddy if we ever did it again!

Mrs. Norton lived on a dead end street in more ways than one, and I’ve been on too many of those dead end roads myself. God reminded me that a dead end is a wonderful place to hide my heart, and it can even be a happy trail; but it leads to nowhere. I’m learning that walking in God’s kingdom is much better than happy trails and dead ends. Joy comes from obeying and trusting Him, and I love enjoying what God so graciously gives. He asks that I give Him everything for a reason. If I don’t, I’ll never be able to get off those dead end streets. Mrs. Norton was stuck in the past and could not move forward. I may not have her appearance, but I have shared her desire to hold on to what I have lost. I see now that I miss all God has for me in His present and presence when I dwell on that dead end street.

There are many folks in this world like Mrs. Norton who have given up or shut themselves away from the world. It’s not easy to move on when love is lost, and separation from love is the definition of hell. I wish I had been able to learn more about her story because I’m sure it would explain her odd appearance and behavior, but I pray remembering her will make me more mindful of those in my path who are on a dead end street and need a little love.