Shadows stretched across the darkness.
Accusing fingers scratched the pavement.
Who would it be tonight.
Where.
Unsuspecting would be best.
Sleeping.
Daring.
Yielding.
No one will know.
None will be able to capture what I embrace.
Prey...sounds tapping across the window pane.
Waiting.
Shadows aren't reality anyway.
But, then..the slimy fingers twist and contort.
Death.
It will reign.
Laughter.
Wicked, clattering chains
of scheming
lies.
But, NO.
Shhhh....
Listen.
Voices.
Multitudes,
Piercing the darkness, the shadows.
Shouts.
Thundering with authority.
Needed.
Necessary.
Bellowing through eternity.
NO.
NO.
NO.
The shadows shall not reign.
They shall not overtake.
NO.
AUTHORITY arrives
on angel wings
spanning the length of time
and beyond.
It shall be well again.
It shall.
AUTHORITY HAS SPOKEN.
IT IS LOVE.
IT IS ETERNAL.
LIGHT OVERCOMES DARKNESS.
VICTORIOUS
FOREVERMORE.
The Word of prayer rolls back the darkness
and sheds Wonderful Light.
Darkness has to depart at the sound of the Heavenly.
In the silence of grief, and suffering there is hope.
Christ has conquered death and the grave.
He forgives.
He comforts.
He reigns.
He is.
He will.
He is to come.
Selah.
Listening to some of my 'mom' friends reminded me of the seasons that have come and gone in my life.
Recently, a friend commented on a day when she watched her preschool daughter in the backyard, swinging and singing and having the best time...
one of those sweet kodak moments.
My friend said, "Why am I crying."
Another friend has a senior in high school.
She said, "Is the senior year harder on the senior or the parent."
Answer to both....Ah, the parent.
It's a parent thing.
Our hearts belong to our children.
We swell with joy at the things they say and do.
At the same time, a sadness tugs at our hearts.
We know the moments are fleeting,
and they will soon be gone.
It doesn't seem that long ago that I was watching my little ones at play.
It doesn't seem that long ago that I had a senior getting ready to graduate.
It doesn't seem that long ago,
no, not at all.
I enjoyed every season of raising my children.
It's what parents do.
I thought about my last year as a senior's mom,
when the youngest of my five was a senior.
It was the final chapter in my-kids-are- at- home book of fulltime mom-hood.
What was I going to do.
I'm a crier. My kids will tell you it's true.
I cried their first day of kindergarten,
at programs and games,
at every graduation.
I knew I was going to cry his whole senior year.
I was going to be a soggy mess.
It was the last, 'first' football game.
I sat in my mom mobile, praying.
God. I can't do this.
I don't know how I'm going to get through this senior year.
I took a deep breath.
I straightened my pride button with my son's picture.
I had all my paraphenalia for the game.
I was going to make my way to our reserved seats.
Then,a song on the radio caught my attention.
"Turn up the music! Turn it up loud. Take a few chances, let it all out.
Because you won't regret it, looking backfrom where you have been.
Because it's not who you know and it's not what you did, it's how you live.
So go to the ball games, go to the ballet.....
Kiss all your children.....
Don't run from the truth, cause you can't get away.
Just face it and you'll be ok."
("How You Live," by Point of Grace).
'Silly, maybe, but that song spoke to me, and
it seemed that year,
any time I felt a little blue, as moms letting go
sometimes do,
that song was on the radio.
I turned up the music of my life. I turned it up loud!
I didn't want to have regrets.
I went to those games and enjoyed watching my son.
I sat through programs and awards night, and enjoyed every minute.
I enjoyed my son's senior year.
I'm sure I cried.
But, I smiled, and laughed a lot, too.
I reminded myself to live the life!
I understand my mom friends and where they are in life.
It's sweet...kind of sad...but it's what parenting is about.
Enjoy each moment, because, yes, it all goes way too fast.
My nest is empty now. (by the way, the picture for this blog...my son is number 12).
Yet, there are still times I get that nudge to
Turn up the music of life....loud!
So, I do.
I may call one of my kids or visit a friend.
I may dance while I clean, or dance with the dog.
It's not who we know or what we do,
it's how we live.
Harry met the girl of his dreams when he was six. She was five.
They graduated from the same high school and went separate ways.
Nine years later they were reunited.
They dated.
They wrote letters to each other.
They married.
He wrote more than 1,300 letters to her for nearly fifity years.
Ah, Harry.
Sigh.
The couple-
President Harry Truman and his sweetheart, Bess Truman.
Then there was Mr. Valentine.
He is a mystery.
He may just be a legend.
I still like the story.
Valentine was in prison and fell in love a girl, who may have been the jailer's daughter. Before his death, he wrote her a letter and signed it, "From Your Valentine."
Thanks Valentine.
Valentine's Day,
a day worth setting aside.
Tell her you love her.
Let him know he's your man.
I remember when my husband and I were dating.
The delivery girl brought me this huge spray of roses.
I felt like a movie star.
Roses. I love roses.
That's all it took.
I was smitten.
He was sweet, thoughtful, a gentleman (yes, I'm talking my husband, now).
He found the perfect Valentine's Day card.
He took me to dinner.
He still sends roses.
He still manages to find the perfect card.
He still takes me to dinner.
He's still sweet, thoughtful and a gentleman.
Ah....Valentine's Day.
What a day for love.
Harry Truman, Valentine...'so many love stories out there.
My son was born on Valentine's Day.
One year when I was a single parent, he said,
"Mommy, I'll be your Valentine."
So, I've always had a Valentine - since the day he was born.
'Those days,
I bought myself a heart-shaped box of Russell Stover candy.
I enjoyed Valentine's Day, anyway.
I enjoyed the candy, too.
Ah...Valentine's Day.
Enjoy the day set aside for love.
Tell someone you love 'em.
It's ok
to be in the mood for love.
A few days ago I felt like Carly Simon.
Yup.
I walked into a music store and got the strangest looks.
'Not that I'm famous like Carly, but I was a novelty.
Someone from back in the day.
'Like being the Grateful Dead resurrected or something.
It was kind of uncomfortable.
I think
I should feel at home in a music store.
After all, I worked in one back in the day.
I spent many days stringing and tuning guitars.
I gave lessons and had my own guitar.
Guitars were my friends.
There in that store I saw
them, all hung in neat rows.
Guitar after guitar greeted me.
My old friends....
Only the young men working there didn't know that.
As uncomfortable as I felt, it was kind of funny.
"Could I help you find something," one young man asked.
He was friendly, but I got the distinct impression he thought I was going to say, "I have no idea. I came in for my son..."
or, "I teach music and I need..." I have taught music, and done that.
The help is eager to comply. "Ah, she's a teacher. Ok. Of course."
But, no.
I was looking for supplies for my guitar.
That is a different story.
I mentioned maybe buying a new guitar strap.
I told the young man, "Mine is pretty old. It's from the seventies."
His eyes got big.
"Wow. I'd love to have a guitar strap from the seventies."
I paused.
I thought.
I felt like a walking museum with access to the Mona Lisa.
I looked at the guitar straps.
I decided I'd keep mine. My seventies strap is actually pretty fine.
I asked for guitar strings.
I have my favorite.
Maybe I was imagining, but I think the young man looked at me in surprise.
I asked for picks and was looking around the counter (when I worked at
a music store we had picks - different shapes and colors (including psychedelic) - in a large bowl - it was fun to go throught the bowl and choose several.)
He showed me the rack behind the counter.
Small bags of picks.
Ok. Well, I wanted the fine picks.
Boring.
I chose the red ones.
Once again, maybe I imagined that look of surprise.
Before I left I had to look at the music books.
There I saw, Aerosmith, James Taylor, The Allman Brothers Band, Dave Miller Band, Bob Dylan, Steely Dan...I'll stop there.
Times have changed, but then again...
I fit right in. These were my guys.
They filled a large portion of the section for music books (Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Carly Simon, Joni Mitchell).
I reminsced as I looked through the books.
Those were the days my friend.
We sat in the park playing our guitars.
I played in bands, alone, on the road, in churches, anywhere and everywhere.
My guitar taught me to play a love song.
John Denver and all the other guys lined up on those shelves helped.
When I got ready to leave, I noticed all the young men behind the counter.
They smiled.
A relic.
Was that how they saw me.
I didn't feel so out of place.
I'm part of an era that is ageless.
No matter how many years pass, we remain young at heart.
Our music doesn't grow old, it gets better with age.
I smiled at the young men behind the counter as I left.
I don't know what they were thinking.
But, it's ok.
I'm gonna rock on.
Who knows...
Maybe....
just maybe, they secretly wanted my autograph.
"The Savior, yes, the Messiah, the Lord - has been born in Bethlehem, the city of David...."
You know the story.
I've heard it ever since I can remember.
You probably have too.
I've heard the Christmas carols you've heard, too.
"Silent night, holy night, all is calm all is bright.
Round yon Virgin, Mother and Child.
Holy Infant so tender and mild.
Sleep in heavenly peace."
Every year I wonder at the wonder of it all...
How this little baby, born so long ago can still impact the life of man.
I love how the little baby Jesus ushered peace into a world so in need.
Peace....
The armies of heaven praised God saying "Glory to God in highest heaven and peace on earth..." (Luke 2:14).
He, the Christ child, the Savior brought it with Him.
Peace.
Months back I wrote about my son,who was going in for surgery*.
Well, it was postponed, till this week.
A few mornings before the surgery my devotional verse was, "My peace I give to you. My peace I leave with you. Not as the world gives do I give, but my peace I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." (John 14:27). The New Living Translation says it this way: "I am leaving you with a gift-peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don't be troubled or afraid."
Immediate peace washed over me.
And it stayed.
Surgery is over.
It went well.
Through it all, God's peace kept me.
His peace is with me now.
His peace is available.
Find a quiet place in your heart.
It is there.
It's ours - this peace.
No matter what or where.
Peace.
His peace.
He gives it to us, and reminds us of it every year.
Look.
Go ahead.
It started with the baby in the manger.
*(In my blog archives 7/7/10-My Quiver is Full. A testimony of my son's faith.)
I'm like a kid at Christmas.
I love everything about it.
I must say,
my husband was taken by surprise our first Christmas season together,.
We had been married three months at Thanksgiving - still in early adjustment stages.
Immediately following Thanksgiving I began decorating.
"What are you doing." My new husband said.
"Well, decorating for Christmas! We need to get the tree up.' I smiled.
"What do you mean, put the tree up. It's too early."
"Oh no. I always start decorating around Thanksgiving. It takes time, you know."
Husband was in shock.
"It's not Christmas yet." He said.
"Well, when would you put the tree up." I said.
"Not till Christmas Eve."
I was shocked.
I put the tree up. I couldn't stand it. I had to.
Husband shook his head.
The tree was just the beginning.
The family room was the commencement.
Did I mention I love Christmas.
I go from room to room, decorating.
There's the tree in the family room, and another in the livingroom.
There's greenery on top of the bookcases.
Greenery on the piano.
A couple of beautiful nativity sets.
Santas and snowmen and angels.
There is meaning to my madness.
What a wonderful time of year.
Two thousand some years ago my Savior chose to come to this earth to shed His light in our lives.
He chose to bring His eternal life to this world.
It's a small thing I do.
For me it is a celebration of one of the greatest events in history (the other is Easter).
Christ the King was born!
My Messiah, Savior, Lord.
I get excited.
It is a holiday that is meant to be enjoyed.
It brings hope, peace and goodwill to all men.
Now, my daughter is married.
We talked the other night.
She has her tree up (I think she has two, actually).
Her husband shook his head.
She told him it's just the beginning....
Some traditions are meant to be passed down.
In my home, it's Christmas in every room.
Celebrate the Light.
Celebrate the Life.
My daughter has the idea.
Now, lets have a little Christmas, right this very moment.
Pass on the fun and celebrate.
Over-joyed.
It may seem a little early to be thinking Christmas, but I love the season.
I'm the mom who played Christmas carols in July before it was the thing to do.
Thinking about Christmas, and yes I'm playing Christmas carols; I was overcome with joy.
I was standing in my dining room, and
His presence came in like a big hug.
Indeed, my cup runneth over.
The love of God is shed abroad in my heart with gratitude.
Oh joy to the world. The King has come.
How humbling to think the great God of the universe loved me so much.
Like the words to an old hymn, "What wondrous love is this, oh my soul."
He picked me up out of darkness so great I couldn't see light.
He gave me life when it seemed that all was lost.
He filled me with His joy unspeakable and full of glory.
I am amazed and thankful everyday, for the life He has blessed me with.
There is a story of a man, a greeter in a church, who loved praise and worship, raising his hands and dancing to the praise music. During the greeting he would hug everyone. But, some people were offended by his smell. So, the board of the church took him aside and spoke to him. They thought he had been saved long enough, he should be more mature.
He told them he couldn't help himself. Everyday was a special gift from God to him, for God had delivered him from years of alcoholism. The joy he was filled with when he was first saved was new every morning. He was so thankful for the life God had given him through Christ.
The wonders of God are new everyday. It takes my breath away!
I think Thanksgiving and Christmas are closely related.
'So much to be thankful for. I can start at Thanksgiving and continue celebrating through Christmas.
So, what's my story?
Briefly,
I tried to reach God with religion and works. At the end of myself He saved me.
Through the years of following Him there have been times of dark tunnels of tribulation. He has proven that He is faithful - always.
He has made a way when there didn't seem to be a way.
He has been my provider, always on time.
He has been my healer when doctors were at a loss.
He has been my peace, when trouble was all around.
He has been my strength when I had none.
He has been my friend - always.
David in the Bible was so overtaken by the blessings of his Lord, that he danced with all his might, right in the middle of all downtown! (II Samuel 6:14)
Overcome with joy? You bet. Like David, like the church greeter, I will dance.
I will sing.
There is none like our God: Emmanuel-God with us, El Shaddai-All sufficient One, Jehovah Eloheenu-the Lord our God, Jehovah Jireh - God my provider, Jehovah Shalom-God my peace, Jehovah Nissi-the Lord my banner of victory, Jehovah Rophe-the Lord my health/my healer. He is Adonai - my Lord, my Master.
He makes all things new again!
He is worthy of our praise.
Let's be thankful!
It 's ok.
Go ahead, sit back, relax, have a cup of coffee. Let Him hug you with His presence, as you sit, all wrapped up in a blanket of His love.
