The Big Bed

I lay quietly in "the big bed," which Eli in all his cuteness calls Rob's and my bed. This is my second blog post in one night...haven't blogged in eons. I write these for myself to remember, to reflect upon later, to take my temperature...know where I'm at and how I'm doing and if you're reading well that's nice too! My boys sleep next to me, yep that's right...they are both here. Eli doesn't like Eli's bed tonight and was crying so much that he was coughing. I wanted to scoop him up, but Daddy needed to be the one to cave...he has more rules than me. And Daddy did cave (anyone would have, his cries were heart wrenching!). But, once Eli falls asleep he's to go back in his room...I'll get him there eventually. So I lay here and listen to Eli's little sleeping noises and I can't help but wonder if all my dreams and aspirations for the future even matter? Earlier before he fell asleep we were honking each others noses while smiling with our whole faces...no laughing allowed, we can't wake Daddy! It seemed to me that the moment with him mattered more than anything else I could have been doing. Is anything that I do or plan to do or dream to do bigger than my Mama's heart that feels so enlarged? I'm so grateful for this love in my heart and for this very good reason to slide down a slide. It's his childhood. It's his one childhood.

The Daily Miracle

The beautiful mess of my full life swirls around me. People ask how I am, I say "livin' the dream!" Though my response is lighthearted sarcasm, I realized (just today) that I am living The Dream. The one where I become someone's Mama. The one where the baby lives and I finally get to pour out all of that love for child that had been bottled up, sitting on that dusty shelf...waiting. Sometimes I fall asleep to the miracle that life is. I forget. How could I? My desire is to remember, daily. To pull out, of each day, all of the goodness and savor it. To have a grateful heart at the forefront of my existence...each breath, each step. To become so immersed in thankfulness. For this is seeking the face of God. And, I am definitely His seeker.

Breaking Free

I'm leading a guided book study with a friend using Beth Moore's book, "Breaking Free." A poem came out of me during the week of the study. It felt divinely inspired. It felt like it was for the women coming to the study. During our welcome, I bravely read my little poem to them. The night was lovely, powerful. I know that God will speak to each of us directly through these words we read and through our discussions. He has made so much of my old stuff new. He has the supernatural power to transform. I love that. He is simply looking for willingness. Just yesterday I was driving past a church (whose sign always manages to say what I need to hear) and it said this..."God doesn't call the equipped, He equips the called."  I've been feeling led towards some things lately. My walk with Him is getting deeper by the day. I can feel myself letting Him in more fully. I told Him during a major prayer session with a friend to prune whatever needs pruning in me. It hurts! I'm uncomfortable and awkward. But, I'm experiencing more joy in my everyday life. I find myself nurturing my people in new ways. There's a shift and it's my daily surrendering to God's Mercy & Grace. Here's the poem:

*Breaking Free*

Unshackled, unchained
hearts blown open,
hearts aflame.

Tangled, strangled
strongholds no more!
Let God in to explore.

For He will journey
the caverns of your heart.
And, bit by bit
transform you into
His work of art.

Be opened, don't flee
He desires to break you free (and He will).

Your gift, for your work
will be His unexplainable
and neverending peace.

Oh How He Loves Us

The other night, I received a beautiful gift from a beautiful person. It contained a divine message just for me. I could feel, in that moment of receiving, God's love in a way that I never had before. I understand that God loves us through others, through His word. But, I've never felt His direct and absolute love. It was as if the "middle man" had been taken out. I could feel a wave of His perfect love wash over me. I felt Him. It moved me to tears. That same evening I got home after 9pm, let my dogs out and for the first time, in who knows when, I looked up! I had totally forgotten that stars existed. And, oh how they shined in that clear, winter sky! As I was looking at them...remembering there's bigger things happening in the Universe, I felt His love cover me once again. I was struck so deeply at the fact (yes, fact!) that He made everything... and yet... He loves ME.
What was this divine message that I was given, you wonder?! It was my life's purpose wrapped in a bow! And, because my Father (who art in Heaven) believes in me, I will step into that purpose one little brave day at a time.

Nanny

Nanny, as her grandchildren affectionately called her, was my Mom's Mother. She was smiles and laughter. Nanny was my last living Grandparent. Lou Gearigs disease took her body, but not her heart. She was smiles and laughter until the day He came for her. Some things this Earthly life can snatch away and some things it can't. This morning I gave Eli a bath. While I was dressing him, he started yelling Nanny, Nanny, Nanny. I froze. Have I ever spoke that sweet name in his presence? It brought me to her. The remembering of my childhood and all that she injected into it. I put Eli down for a nap and found myself dusting my hutch. And, there she was...in a picture, on a porch, flowers behind her...smiling. I paused from this life for a moment and thanked her. When she could hardly talk near the end, she whispered, held my hand and told me she was praying for me. She was dying and praying for me?! She passed and I became pregnant with Eli after almost 3 and a half years of not conceiving. I thank God that I come from praying people. Eli is smiles and laughter, he comes by it naturally. I will pray for my precious son...a prayer that this world won't steal his sunshine. Thank you, Father, for my people.

A Father's Love

On New Years Day, in the morning, my Father stopped by for coffee. I think he
enjoys our Keurig as much as we do. I'm loving that he just shows up and asks for a cup! Since I had Eli, my Father has changed. His entire life was about work and how much he could accomplish in a day. But, as he's gotten older and has slowed down a bit I sense a shift. He's seeing what's important...less doing, more being. Have you ever read the book, "The Five Love Languages?" Amazing, spot on material. My Father loves us through acts of service. He would (and does often) drop whatever he's doing to help us. Never complains or makes you feel bad...just does what needs to be done in his quiet way. My love language is words of affirmation. It makes sense why I had issues with my Father's love as I was growing up. He was loving me through helping me and all I desired were his words...I'm so glad to be an adult now and having read this particular book, resolved all that "junk" and expectation of how I thought he should have been. He was always loving me, the way he knew how. He doesn't often tell me, but when he does its certainly is not taken for granted. New Year's Day we had Rob's Uncle Tom's wedding, so when my Father came by that morning I was dressed nicely...hair and makeup done. He told me that I looked pretty! What?! I'm pretty sure I waited my whole life to hear something from him. It was totally unexpected and just really, really nice to hear.

So This Is Christmas

I'm probably one of the few people that isn't happy when it snows at Christmastime. I love snow and I love Christmas and I've always loved the combination of the two. But, they are no longer a perfect pair. Rob is salting the streets to make them nice for all the Christmas morning travelers. When I picture families driving safely from one place to another I can feel the small fuel of anger dying. We knew it was a possibility that he would get called in and all through the early morning hours we'd look outside and proclaim "no snow!" So I became attached to the idea that yes, he would be home and we would have the cozy Christmas morning that I envisioned. And then like a joy thief the call came and off he went. I felt the loss immensely. The Spirit of Christmas vanished from my entire being. I felt so alone. Eli was still sleeping, Emily is coming over later...I just wanted my little family. I felt the whisper to my heart in that moment, "you are not alone, you are never alone." I was jolted back into remembering who this day is for. Who every day is for. I'm imperfect in my walk with God. I lose perspective...but, only in small fleeting moments. God and I have an arrangement. He let's me throw my pity party. He let's me fall on the floor into a full blown toddler tantrum. And, then He gently nudges me back to Him where I belong. No, this Christmas is not ideal. Yes, I would change some things if I could. But, the reality is this human life is filled to the rim with imperfections and disappointment. But, He is perfect and He doesn't disappoint. He is always the same. Now and forever. Thank you, Lord, for teaching me to set my eyes upon you. Thank you for sending your son Jesus to the Earth. Happy Birthday, Jesus.

Being Mama

I've lived so many lives and not in a "past life" kind of way. But, the only one that truly matters is this present life. This one that contains this man and these children and this home and these families and friends. All that was on the road leading to this was good in its own right. I am better for it all. But, nothing will ever compare to being clothed in Mamahood. To living this life. The one that I struggled to attain. The one that drenched me in the goodness of God. He set my path straight...it had been so jagged, so fairweather. I was sent into the eye of the storm. I found Him there. He knew I'd come. He gave me signs to keep me hopeful. He showed up in ways only I could understand, each time I cried out to Him with my whole heart. He brought me to the breaking point...the one where I laid at His feet and shouted that I trusted His plan even if it meant I wouldn't get to be someone's Mama. It was an awful, yet freeing moment. He took me exactly where He wanted me. And then in my complete surrender, He blessed me. 3 1/2 yrs of lack and despair...but, also of trust and surrender. The most pivotal years of my life. This story isn't about getting what I wanted. This story is about leaning into God...even when it doesn't make sense. I love being Mama so much...for everything it is, but mainly for the incredible journey with God that led to this life now.

Create an Altar

I heard a voice, it said "make an altar." It sounded like me, but I cannot take credit for the idea. My Life Coach, Lori, calls moments like these "downloads." I recognized that I was gifted a download and I obeyed that voice. I believe that we all have an Inner Guide and that it's the wisest part of ourselves. Similar to how when we are trying to work through a decision and we ask others for their opinions on the matter...but, somewhere in the depth of our soul - we know the answer. We have the answers for our own lives, it's simply a matter of trust. We're so afraid of being wrong, but if we can get to that quiet state (it doesn't have to be full blow meditation, just quiet!)...we can listen and we can know. The more you go there, the easier it all becomes. I know from experience.

Back to the altar. So, I ran with it. Like literally went into the spare room that had become a storage space and went to work. This is the room that I took naps in when I was a child staying with Grandma and Grandpa. This is the room where the best dream ever took place - a dream that came at a time when I was struggling with keeping hope in my heart about becoming a mother. God showed me a delightful scene. My niece Alyssa playing with a small, blonde headed, boy. The entire dream I was trying to figure out who this child was and why when I looked at him I felt love like I've never felt it before. When I woke up, I knew God had placed hope back into my heart, he showed me (in that dream) what it felt like to have a child of my own (oh, the love!)...so that I would continue to desire that and maintain the hope that it would in fact happen. Praise Jesus! I now have Eli and his hair is lightening up by the day! All of this to say that the room that contains a whole lot of junk is quite special to me.

I took my mother's hope chest that she gave to me long ago (that her mother upholstered the fabric on just for me). When I opened it I thought I'd find more stuff! But, there was one lonely journal that I had started years ago and it held my dreams...the same ones I have today. I knew when I saw it, I was on track, and was so glad I obeyed "the voice" and just ran with the task of making the altar.

I then took everything I could find that held the deepest meaning to me and placed it on top of the hope chest. Just to name a few: there's a picture of my Grandma (whose home we live in) - it's my favorite picture of her. She's wearing a Santa hat and a lovely Christmas sweater, she's smiling her sweet smile and in the background is the beach! White sands, and the bluest water. She was in Florida for Christmas with Aunt Kathi. To me, this is Heaven! I know it's not the picture in the Bible, but every time I see it I just think of Heaven. Christmas + the Beach ...two of the most wonderful things! There's also my favorite piece of (poster) art that my mom gave me. It's a Fairy sitting inside of a half moon, reading to the moon. Ah, it just speaks to my soul when I gaze upon it! I put a small couch of Grandma's facing my bookshelf and sometimes I steal a few minutes and just stare at that bookshelf. Those books have seen me through so much! The room needs fresh paint and there's stuff everywhere, but in one little section is my altar and it's perfect. I don't even notice that the room is a mess because my meaningful items are there and they offset the fact that work needs to be done!

My Soul loves having that space! I don't get in there everyday, but most days I do. I bring Eli - there's plenty for him to get into (and I let him!). When I am near the altar that I created, I remember who I am. Not my life roles, but the deepest part of who I am. My Soul. I am love and light and created with purpose by my loving Father. And, you were too!

Claim a space and remember who you are (and whose you are)! It's life altering.

Angels

I've really had a fascination with Angels, lately. This morning while I was getting ready for work in Emily's room (so much easier in her room, I  can sit down and flat iron my hair while Eli destroys her room!).
I've cleaned and rearranged Emily's bookshelf many times, but today Eli pulled an Angel book off of the shelf (that I am positive my Mother-In-Law, Nancy, would have bought for her) - that I have never seen.

How have I never seen this book before? It was beautifully illustrated (all child Angels) with lovely quotes. I picked the book up to put it back during the mad rush to put Emily's room back together and something stopped me. I just felt (words can never explain these moments of complete knowing that I receive) there was something for me in that book. I grabbed Eli, the book, and headed downstairs. Eli was happily playing in his play area (our former dining room) while I laid on the floor near him and read through the book. I knew I would know what message was for me - I've had enough of these moments to "just know."

Eli wasn't paying attention to me or the book - he was playing nicely by himself. Suddenly, I turned the page and I knew. There was a child Angel that looked so much like Eli...but, it was a girl. At that exact moment, Eli walked over to me, sat down, and started putting his hand on the page and pointing at that sweet little Angel while looking up at me.

Earlier this week, Tuesday to be exact, I brought a candle and Faith's "box" into Eli's room (he was not with me). I sat on his floor and went through all of Faith's things in her purple box that the hospital so kindly put together for me (a place to go, if you will). I thanked God for her and I thanked God for Eli. It felt like a very important and symbolic moment. They've been my journey towards God. That was the first time that I felt I "combined" Faith and Eli - or thought of them as a pair ... versus separate babies at separate times. In that moment, they were just my babies. So, when Eli came to me and began pointing at that little girl - I was not totally surprised. God is so good like this. Every time I go to Him wholeheartedly or take time to really thank Him for my life, for my journey, He always sends me something. Always.

I think that we are all capable of receiving messages along our path. Small miracles...just for us! But, I believe that we are required to be open to receiving. The messages will not be lightening bolts from the sky, but they will be specific and perfect.

Drum Circle

I've always had a fascination with the drumming circle. For those of you not familiar with this concept, here's an accurate definition from Wikipedia:

"Typically, people gather to drum in drum "circles" with others from the surrounding community. The drum circle offers equality because there is no head or tail. It includes people of all ages. The main objective is to share rhythm and get in tune with each other and themselves. To form a group consciousness. To entrain and resonate. By entrainment, I mean that a new voice, a collective voice, emerges from the group as they drum together."

My Aunt Sharon (mom's older sis) is the only person I know that has been to one and she really enjoyed her experience. This Yoga Studio that I love in a nearby town had an advertisement for a Women's Drumming Circle a few months back - so I went - all - by - myself. I was nervous, I really didn't know what to expect. I went in with an open mind and open heart. I was the first one there (of course!). I love getting to places early - to get a good parking spot, a good seat...you name it. I just like early. I like preparedness. Anyway, Heather - the drum leader and I had a lovely chat. It's so fun meeting strangers and hearing their stories. We all have stories! Sharing makes us vulnerable, but it also connects us. I dig it. There were only 6 of us. I was the only newbie. I picked the drum that called to me. I claimed it and I was the only one who didn't change their drum during the session. I was attached. And, well I wasn't comfortable enough to make any changes mid session!

It was such a cool experience. She teaches you some starts and then we all just jump in wherever and however we want. And then miraculously we all play our own unique part and somehow this all works together to create a song!

I realized while I was there - why I was there! I had been desiring that "getting lost in something" feeling. I am an expert multi-tasker. I enjoy doing as many things as once as possible (I'm surprised I don't brush my teeth in the shower!). It's hard for me to just be in any one thing!
Anyway, the point of all this is that I did get lost and it was wonderful. I felt childlike. I miss just playing. This adult life brings so much responsibility and tasks! 

The drumming circle taught me about being present again. Maybe I won't get as much done with my new awareness, but I'll definitely be more into whatever I do - and I'm pretty sure it'll be worth letting some things slide.

Her Voice

Giving her a voice,
the her that lurks deep within.
Light tappings throughout my years,
waiting patiently to be chosen.
Longing to be pulled out,
yet allowing the journey towards discovery.
Her knocking has become fierce,
full of eagerness and passion.
Sometimes in my stillness,
I hear her faint cry, "release me, it is time."
She excites and frightens me simultaneously.
 My heart beats peacefully in response to her voice and whispers, "you know she is the best of you."
My ego fears where we will go.
She desires to drag me along for her ride,
she won't for her way is as delicate
as the wings of a butterfly.
She understands the choice is mine,
even in her infiniteness this pains her.
For she is my soul, begging to be heard.