Being True

The word for Five Minute Friday is: TRUE.   Go…….                                                                                                         IMG_0158

Uh oh. Do I want to do this?

The truth is, my house is never as clean and neat as I want it to be…

I pour over decorating magazines and dream about having it look like those in the pictures.

It will probably never happen. Ever.

I wish I looked like I did in my 20’s, sans the big hair. I want to be more accepting of the fact that I am 45.

The forties are supposed to be great years. Old enough to know, still young enough to do something about it.

That is the thought anyway. Truth is, sometimes I feel like a kid in a middle aged body, some days I have it together and some days I don’t.

I am the most comfortable in jeans and t-shirts. Although, glamming it up once in awhile is fun.

I need to exercise more. Sigh.

I color my hair, because I’ve always been a blond. I didn’t like my hair getting darker as I got older.

I decided to do something about it.

I love my new hairstyle, that I can tuck behind my ears. It is cute and sassy. That is what I tell myself any how.

Truth is, I love to read and write. I love to travel and dream. I love meeting people and hearing stories.

I’m glad I grew up in rural Maryland, lived in east Tennessee for decades, and am now living in the countryside of Ohio.

I am a lover of sunsets and clean, fresh sheets, warm towels straight out of the shower, and wet dog noses.

I love Jesus. I want to understand more. I try to do the right thing.

I teach and I learn and I laugh and I cry and make mistakes.

I make a lot of mistakes.

I yell and I slam around and I sometimes want to act like a two year old….because I can, and sometimes it makes me feel better.

I love watching the weather, and am kind of geeky about it. I also like scary movies and watching NetFlix with my husband.

I’m conservative and I pray and wonder what will happen to our country.

I love my family, even though all of us are imperfect. That is okay.

Truth is, I’m just figuring out life one day at a time.

Five minutes is up…..

 

 

 

 

 

Happy Birthday!

It was on this day eighteen years ago that my life changed forever…the day I became a mommy.

I was grateful for this day, because I realized that this day might never have been. My doctor’s words that had echoed in my heart,
“Your auto immune disease might make it difficult for you to even get pregnant.”, were now replaced with the hungry cries of my newborn son.

My perfectly formed, perfectly healthy, little boy. A gift from God.

Thank you, Jesus.

The last eighteen years have gone by far too quickly. Even as I type this post, I see him growing up. My memories are enveloped in each word.

My son is now a young adult. Independent. Making his own decisions.

I am so very proud of him.

But, no matter how old he gets, he will always be my dear child.

And, “I’ll love him, for always….as long as I’m living, my baby you’ll be.”

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KENDRICK!!!

Psalm 139:13-16  For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you,when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.

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This Mom Of Mine

 

Five Minute Friday with Lisa-Jo at Tales from a Gypsy Mama.102_3854

Today’s your turn. What did your mama do that makes her your mama? Let’s unpack those memories today.

Where is your memory buried?

In just five minutes. Tell me all about what your mama did that made her yours…

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Elementary school pictures with crooked bangs, cut by a mother who with “just one more snip” thought she could straighten them out. I look back at my pictures and have to smile. My mom was good at fixing things and making me feel better. ( I was high fashion style before it was even in style:)

My mom, worried that my neck was swollen…taking me to the doctor to find out why. Holding my teenage hand, when I was scared. Telling me that thyroid disease was going to be taken care of with some medicine.

She took care of me during my bout with mono my senior year, helped get me to and from my job at the Dry Cleaners, was a huge help when filling out applications for college, sat through Lyric theater performances, encouraged me in my goal to graduate with a degree in Special Education. She went with me through the winding mountains of east Tennessee to help me move to the little town that held the first school I ever taught at.

Laughter, tears, joy, pain. Uphill battles and marathon races. Arguments and big, fat, honkin’ mistakes. Lots and lots of memories. My mom is strong and brave and smart and I know this about her. She stepped out and changed her life when it wasn’t easy. She figured things out as she went. She taught my younger sister and I that we could do anything. We were smart and strong and beautiful. She endowed me with a healthy self confidence that as I look back over the years– has served me well. She always made me feel special and loved, and is there anything better than that?

There are always times though, no matter how confident, that I need encouragement. My mom has been and still is my biggest encourager. Her cards, letters, and emails always seem to come just when I need them the most. Her words make me feel better.

Encouragement, it is her gift really.

She is a gift.

And I love her, this mom of mine.

 

Moments Are Numbered

Time really is like a river.

English: "Rice" is a duckling I live...

Some days are peaceful and placid.

Other days the river is white capped and wild.

This week I realized that life is changing…

time flows quickly, and it will never be the same.

My children are almost grown.

More adult than child.

High school, college.

Jobs, sports and schedules.

There is no going back, only the letting go.

My heart wants to hold on, even though I know…

it is in the releasing, that growth occurs.

It’s interesting  how each moment with them seems more poignant

when I know that those moments are numbered.

 

 

I Am Thankful

English: Dairy Queen "restaurant." R...

Kids growing up. Teens and young adult. Cutting strings. Breaking away.

To fly….. Or fall. To hope or heave. To wonder and to wander.

The days can seem so long sometimes…but the weeks slide through my fingers, my grip attempting to hold tightly to the sand of time.

Time is a blessing, but it can also ache a mother’s heart.

I am thankful for motherhood. This job. This responsibility. Duty. Privilege. All these things.

It’s made me see the world in a different way. A way I could not have known before.

Laughing. Crying. Proud. Infuriated. Sobbing and serious. Giggles and groans.

And memories….aahhhh…..the memories. There is nothing quite like a mother’s memory…..not when it comes to her children.

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Today I am thankful for:

* a son that is at his first “real” job, I’m so proud of him

* another son that graduated, I’m thrilled for him!

* a daughter, who is my thinker

* stops at Dairy Queen

* women warrior princesses

* boys who don’t always comb their hair

* bottomless pit stomachs

* popsicles

* never getting to drive my own vehicle anymore

* long legs and being able to reach the top shelf for mom

* sports

* reading

* computer whiz kids

* playing with the dogs

* singing

* camps

* and HUGS

Children are a gift from the LORD; they are a reward from him. Psalm 127:3  NLT

Together Is A Good Place To Be

A man and a woman holding hands with fingers i...


thegypsymama

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. Please visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments.

OK, are you ready? Give me your best five minutes on:  Together

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Together is a good place to be….

My husband and I were both widowed in our 30’s.  We lived in different states during our first marriages. Our kids didn’t go to school together. We didn’t even know the others existed. Each living our own lives, oblivious to what was going to happen. How life would change for us all.

Death entered. The door on the future seemed to slam shut. The room was quiet. So quiet.

Weeks to months, months to years.

The realization of new life, after death, slowly emerges.

Two people meet. Two families come together.

God is in the union.

Though one may be overpowered,
   two can defend themselves.
A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.  Ecclesiastes 4:12  NIV

Bound In Love

We met through words, typed on a keyboard.

Laughing. Joking. Discussing.

Getting to know each other at a distance…

before meeting face to face. A little unsure of the unknown. Wondering. Waiting.

I had already buried my first husband, of eight years, and was several years into my journey of widowhood.

I was single mom to a son that filled my days with both laughter and tears.

Aren’t little boys like that? And don’t they steal their mother’s heart with their very first gaze?

I thank God for the gift of him.

And now, a new man was vying for my attention. And how did I feel? And what did I know?

And isn’t God here, in this?

Him…creating the tapestry of what will be, from the what once was?

Knitting together the new from both hearts that understood.

And aren’t memories, and emotion, and joy and sorrow apart of it?

His life before me, with a woman I never met…

who died too young and left her grieving husband filled with the emptiness of what will never be.

Children left with memories of yesterdays, that will never be their tomorrows.

Me, at thirty-seven. Waiting. Not in a hurry. Learning to trust in God’s timing.

Because isn’t that always the way it should be?

And didn’t my Heavenly Father know that I love men with mustaches? Who are computer wizards and can play a mean game of Boggle?

And isn’t it wonderful that He gave me this man, who is strong when I am broken? And loves me in spite of myself?

Am I not grateful that he needs me to love him when he is being unlovable? And will listen to him when the world is to busy to hear?

Sometimes I think about life, much like that tapestry I mentioned.

Stitching each day together. Life all mixed up in the quilt of many colors. Sewn together with past, present, and future.

Bound with love.

Always, love.

Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD. Psalm 27:14  NIV

Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.  1 Peter 4:8  NIV

Love In The Day To Day

Love for Arts

Today, at A Holy Experience,  Ann has her readers posting about the practice of love.

I just knew I would write this wonderful blog post about love! I thought maybe Hallmark might even want it for their Valentine card collection. Maybe I’d write something using the verses from the “love” chapter 13 in 1 Corinthians. The more I thought about my wonderful ideas on love, the more I felt drawn to write the real stuff. You all know what I mean. Not the Hollywoodchick flick” romance. Not the bouquet of roses and candy. Not the slick pictures in the magazines for jewelry companies. So, here goes. The real stuff. Not the fluff stuff.

Here is my take on love in 60 seconds. Ready. Set. Go.

The daily practice of love is usually not romantic, or cinematic…

nor is it cavalier or conceited.

Love can be gritty and hard…

Some days the walk is all up hill.

The battle is hard fought.

Love can be exhausting.

Miscommunication and boredom

march to the front lines ready to do battle.

Love must be tough…

if it is to survive.

Commitment, sacrifice, and sometimes…

hanging on with white knuckles and wobbly legs.

It’s not giving up, not giving in–

even when throwing in the towel might seem easier.

Love is messy, and crazy and frustrating

and serious, and funny, and happy and

sad.

Love is both time consuming, and energy renewing.

Some days it requires standing down and looking up,

on others, it is asking for a hand to hold.

It is fierce and all consuming,

soft and safe and starting again.

Love doesn’t give up.

 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.  1 Corinthians 13:13  NIV

Get Your Motor Runnin’

Yard Sale Northern California May 2005. This i...

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Saturday morning a little after 8 o’clock in the morning, my son, daughter and I jumped in the van. We were yard sale bound….

First stop, an estate sale way out in the country. It was a beautiful drive, dotted with picturesque white farm houses with multiple red barns, pure Norman Rockwell. We pulled up to the house and jumped out. Hmmm….some stuff was way overpriced if you ask me. There were some nice furniture pieces, but I wasn’t really there for furniture. I didn’t really have any idea what I WAS looking for, but I knew that I’d know it when I saw it. That is my motto. There was also a barn with all sorts of stuff in it. I found 4 school cafeteria trays for a couple of bucks. The melamine kind with the square places for each type of food. So, old school (literally!). My kids looked at me as if I were I was nuts. Like that has ever stopped me. I was thinking they would make wonderful TV trays and the kids were having flashbacks of women wearing hairnets, spooning mystery meat on a plate. Whatever. To each his own.

At this home I also found a cute wooden school chair……child size. I cleaned it up and put it in my library with one of my Boyds bears sitting on it. Perfect.

Next stop, a garage sale. WAY overpriced. If I want to spend that much money I’ll just go to a store and buy it new. The few exceptions to this were some nice vintage embroidered table cloths, pillow shams, and dressy scarves. The lady said she has so many, she was just wanting to thin out her collection. I snagged  some vintage, for a dollar a piece and got a silk scarf for my daughter. Oh, I also found a beautiful framed picture of a young Victorian girl. I wonder whose daughter she was? I always find antique pictures intriguing.

After a couple more stops to pick up a hand held electronic chess game for my daughter, a huge hot chocolate mug, and a Michael Buble’ Christmas CD…..the morning was over.

Even though my son didn’t find anything he wanted today, he enjoyed the hunt. (and getting to drive)

Time to head back home.

Until next time…

 

 

Being Thankful In The Midst Of…

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Certain moments in time just make me grin. It could be something as small as a shared smile or laughing out loud. I am becoming more and more aware that happiness is not in the destination. I will never, in this lifetime, come to a place where all is well, everything is perfect, and there are no worries. I am concerning myself less and less with the “if onlys” of life. If only, I could lose weight…then I’d be happy. If only, I didn’t have to worry about money, or had more money…then I’d be happy. If only, I had an exciting job…then I’d be happy. If onlys can be deadly to a life, draining it of the happiness that can be found in the small every day moments of the here and now. Moments that are weaved into each day. Moments that make this  life worth living.

It is a continual learning process for me…and to be honest, I am not always good at it…this learning to be happy and thankful in the midst of the day. In the middle of the moments. The shimmer of light that, on some days, I search for in the darkness. I have much to be thankful for, much to rejoice in, and much to be happy about. So, I keep at it.

Not always easy, this realization.

Not always truly grasped, this epiphany.

But always there…when I look for it. With my eyes wide open.

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*peanut butter M&M’s

*ooey, gooey smores

*laughing, really laughing, with my husband last night

*new email

*racing Hot Wheels cars

*a new pitcher of iced tea

*cat sitting on the windowsill

*family bonds

*people that care about me

*freshly washed bed linens

*early morning sunshine puddled on the living room floor

*driving back country roads to church

*new corn growing

*freshly tilled flower bed

*air conditioner that works

*flag flapping in the breeze

*a trip to the John Deere store, listening to the radio

Joy is a choice. It’s always a choice. Choose to live…right where you are.