Real Life Reflections

voice 1. the sound or sounds uttered through the mouth of living creatures 2. the faculty or power of uttering sounds through the mouth by the controlled expulsion of air 3. a range of such sounds distinctive to one person   May 8 marked the 34th year since I and my siblings have heard our father's voice. I still miss him terribly. I often call to mind some of his favorite expressions ("crime-in-etely" - I have no idea what it means, but he used it as a curse word or "oh my aching back" - an expression of disgust or impatience with a given situation). I remember his jokes (that he told over and over and over). I miss his laugh. I miss the sound of his voice. No one else in the world has the exact same tone or timbre. No other voice sounds just like his. I miss the sound of my mom's voice too, and my mother-in-law's, and my brother-in-law's. I can't wait to hear them all again, but there's ...

I was asked the question the other day, "what do you believe about God but don't really comprehend?" My answer was easy: grace - the undeserved favor of God. Grace is altogether outside the human experience. Everything in this life is about rewards, punishments, and consequences. All of our decisions and choices shape our lives - for good or bad, ease or hardship. There are natural consequences to our actions, choices, words, and decisions. That's just the way it is, and it helps us navigate through our time on earth, but grace isn't about any of that, and I, for one, all too often confuse the two. Over and over again, I slip into works-mode where I live as if God's favor depends upon my actions, choices, words, and decisions. Several years ago, our pastor pounded grace into our heads. He taught on it Sunday after Sunday after Sunday. His teachings were never boring. I never thought, "oh brother, I see where this is going - grace again ." On the ...

When our oldest child celebrated her tenth birthday (over eighteen years ago - ugh!), it hit me like a pie in the face: more than half of her years with us were now in the past. That realization formed a new resolve in me. "No regrets" was my new motto of motherhood. I determined that when her adult years came, albeit way too soon, I would be able to look back and say with utter confidence that I did absolutely everything I knew to do in the best way I knew how to do it and with all my heart and strength. That's also when I began to pray for the man she would some day marry (and the woman our son would some day wed). It was a simple prayer. I prayed for the two most important things to be found in a spouse: that the man Ami would marry love God and love Ami. Nothing else really matters, although I have to say that we got much more than that in our son-in-law (and our daughter-in-law). In many ways, he reminds me of my own husband: he has a tender heart, he values honest...

Last week I went on an adventure. Typically one would not describe their attendance at a wedding as such, but when one travels via plane to attend said wedding with a (almost) twenty-month old, an adventure is exactly what it is. It was altogether stressful and wonderful by turns. My grand daughter is at that stage where everything is new, and she wants to know the name for it - and then talk about it for the next half hour. One such moment came as we looked out the window of the airplane. We saw the beautiful, crisp blue sky ("bwoo sky"). Twenty minutes later as I tried to distract her from the fact that we couldn't let her get down ("DOOOWWWNNN"), the blue sky was gone. All we could see were clouds. I told her the blue sky was hiding behind the clouds. For the next half hour, intermittently, she told her Momma or me by turns, "bwoo sky . . . hide" and bobbed her head up and down in ferocious agreement with her statement. I'm sure no one can ...

I recently began to read One Thousand Gifts - A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are by Ann Voskamp. I picked it up, not because of the title, but because so many people had recommended it - highly. I'm not sure what I expected, but it's all that and then some. I have to admit that her writing style is difficult for me. I have to weed through her poetic prose to grasp the jewels of truth, but there are jewels sprinkled throughout every page, and it is well worth my efforts. I'm not writing a book review this morning, but I mention this book because it is the reading of it that has planted a new cry in my heart: I want to see.   I came home from the office frustrated yesterday. I'd spent two days working on one problem. It felt like trudging through cement. I changed clothes and immediately went to walk out my frustrations. I prayed, "Lord, I want to see. I want to see You in this." Albert Einstein's words sprang to mind, "It's not that ...

I stepped into their living room. I'd only be there for a minute as this was just a stop to pick up my daughter on our way to another destination. She held my grandson as she opened the door, and I saw no one else in the room. I talked to him, baby talk, a silly, high-pitched voice reserved only for those who have yet to celebrate their first birthday. He gave me one of his lady-killer smiles. Just then his daddy walked into the room and said, "aren't you going to say hi to Grammy?" Now, my grandson is, of course, advanced for his age (he's a two-fisted carrot-eater among countless other talents), but to say, "hi, Grammy" at six months is beyond even him. I followed my son-in-law's gaze and found that there was someone else in the room. She stood there quietly - in the corner by her toys and books. I hadn't seen her, but she had seen me. She was watching and waiting patiently for me to notice her. I hunkered down and squealed in delight. She wa...

It's no secret among my co-workers that because of additional tasks and responsibilities with absolute deadlines, January usually brings me to the brink of sanity. Once or twice I've teetered precariously. This January was different. I kept God ever before me. I kept myself consciously and proactively aware of Him (see my January 25 post for details). Then February came, and before I knew it, I felt like I'd been knocked flat. I was down for the count in a boxing match that I hadn't even known I was in. My opponent brought his punches in hard and fast. There I sat, dazed, reeling, wondering what just happened. I tried to shake my head clear. I tried to remember what it was that had gotten me through January. Nothing came to me.My mind was blank . . . . . . Until this past Saturday. I'm related (by marriage) to the author of the Cuppa Joe Bible Minute . Writing a blog isn't Jenni's only gift, she also teaches Bible studies and at women's retreats. Ev...