Aug 022013
 

Five Minute FridayWe all have a story, some more tragic than others, some paths a lot harder to walk. We may trip we may fall and we will most definitely get frustrated and even angry at times. Yet it’s our story that creates who we are today and who we will be tomorrow. The pain turns to wisdom and lessons learned and the joyous moments we capture in our hearts, in our cameras and we hold onto those moments for a life time knowing full well that regardless of how hard we try we will never be able to go back. Those moments of joy will not repeat, we can create new moments, new memories but what’s done is done.

We pray for a way out of the darkness so that we can live only in those joyous moments but when I consider what my Saviour has done for me, how he bled, how he stumbled and fell, how He left his physical vessel through a tragic demise, I am able to see the message the Lord has for me in my life. My reasons for falling and collapsing, I am a soul attached to this body. My eternity is with God, outside of this shell and free to explore the Heavens and to see things the way He has created me to see.

So while my pain from my story eats at me as days turn into years I find solace in the knowledge that this hurt gives me empathy, perspective and a view that few others have. I am able to empathize, I am able to love unconditionally because I too have been shown that unconditional love.

The aches that possess my body and the scars that I carry both inside and out have turned me into me and I am the only person I want to be!

Be sure to enter my giveaway!

Jun 212013
 

Five Minute FridayI listen to my dd as she plays some song guessing game on one of her electronics and I feel so refreshed that she is learning, even just short clips, songs written and performed over the years by people like Clapton, the Beatles, Lennon, and then how I am learning the names of the new songs when I help her. It is hard to get the right answer when everything is played on guitar and so much music now is more of a digital cornucopia of random sounds with words sung in front of them without having anything to do with the beat behind. My Word has music ever changed since I was her age only 17 years ago.

As the volume gets turned down I think about the rhythm of life, the sounds that create the world around us that become ambient noise that we don’t even realize is there until the sounds have disappeared and we are left in silence. Like that dead quiet that comes when the power is out and you’re left with your thoughts and only your thoughts.

The rhythm being that of the birds singing, the wind blowing, the dogs making their weird yawning noises, the washer and dryer and the dishwasher running. Oh how I love the breeze coming in today cooling the air and threatening us with a thunder storm at some point by the smell and feel of the air. Fresh air is beautiful, it makes you tired and wears you and your children out like nothing else can. Being in the presence of fresh air given to us by God just like the sounds that He has provided for us! The “nuisance” sounds of animals in the wilderness squawking and making so much noise that people think they are a problem. Sounds are not a problem, the cries of your baby, the fighting of your children you dog that won’t quit barking no matter how frustrated you become. Those are the things that create the rhythm of life and all of them were given to us by God. Instead of hearing noise, we all must learn to hear the beauty in the sounds around us.

I just realized this post has no rhythm 😛

Jun 082013
 

Five Minute FridaySometimes I feel like I have fallen so far behind I will never catch up. Then I realize I am the one who sets the standards and only I know whether or not I have fallen behind or not. So, why does this matter?

It matters for a lot of reasons. I feel like I am not being lazy when I get something accomplished. I enjoy walking into a tidy home instead of a messy one. I like to have freshly baked goods for my children instead of one’s that will last until next year. A cookie should never be safe to eat a year later!

As my brain scatters about today the word fall has suddenly reminded me of the times I fell on stairs. The darned twisted ankle or being pushed while I was pregnant and when I fainted at the top of the stairs because of a medication and falling backwards down them a lifetime ago.

Then I wonder why on earth I want to jump out of an airplane someday when falling always tends to hurt. I must be crazier than I had thought! Oh, to be free falling through the air being slowed down by the wind as I fall through it at the same time. It sounds magical, scary, exhilarating and even terrifying.

I think a lot of people associate “fall” with failing. The fall of an empire, the rise and fall of a governing force, of rancid people like Hitler, of countries that go from the top to the bottom in a matter of minutes.

Who decides who has fallen though? Is it society or culture or individuals or maybe the news that broadcasts it?

What about the people who have a personal fall that goes unnoticed? Does this mean that the fall never occurred because no one cared? Much like the question “If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it does it make a sound?”

The best part of a fall is being able to once again rise!

Jun 022013
 

I swore never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation. We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.
-Elie Wiesel

Five Minute FridayImagine…

The desperation one must feel to end their own life, to fly to their demise, to hang themselves, or shoot themselves in a school washroom. All stories I read this week about kids, and I mean kids, ranging in age from 9 (yes 9!) to 15 years old.

Imagine…

Being a child who wants so badly to get the attention of their parents that they have a 4.0 average, are on every team and participate in every extra-curricular activity available in hopes that your parents would see you and be proud.

Imagine…

Those parents when they found out not only did their child died at their own hand, but they died because they so desperately wanted to be noticed and loved by their parents.

Imagine…

Having to ask your child’s friends about her favorite things because you know so little about the child you had raised.

One family doesn’t have to imagine this because that is their reality. It’s unfortunate that they missed out on knowing their child; it’s unfortunate that they will never get the chance.

Bullies don’t always come in small packages (aka children) sometimes we are our own biggest bullies, sometimes our bully is perception or a feeling of being uncared for or unloved. I have known far too many people who have taken their own lives and yet instead of thinking it is a “cowardly act” likes so many proclaim. I think that it is a brave one, it is taking back control of yourself, your emotions, your life and death. It is selfish, but we all need to be selfish at some time in our lives, if we aren’t then we are only giving of ourselves and ignoring our emotions and at some point our needs are going to come to the surface, boil over and not necessarily end well.

Now Imagine…

That you reached out and talked to your children, asked how their day was, asked about their friends, put yourself into their lives, instead of just being a disciplinarian it is more crucial now than ever to also be your child’s friend and confidant because if you aren’t you may not know the pain behind the smile.

Plan to be your child’s disciplinarian, best friend, guidance counsellor, driver, biggest fan and be a part of their lives. If you think it’s too late you are wrong. Jump in wherever you are and show them the unconditional love you have for them. Make the time, because time doesn’t always exist. Unfortunately, too many of us learn this the hard way.

“If I commit suicide, it will not be to destroy myself but to put myself back together again. Suicide will be for me only one means of violently reconquering myself, of brutally invading my being, of anticipating the unpredictable approaches of God. By suicide, I reintroduce my design in nature, I shall for the first time give things the shape of my will. ” -Antonin Artaud

Imagine…

A world where kids are kids again and life no longer hurts. Imagine being free while here on earth, freedom you can achieve through Jesus if you are taught how to accept that freedom.

*Heavenly Father, please take the little children into your arms and end their suffering, give them the strength to face tomorrow, kick their personal demons out of  their lives and allow kids to be kids and love to overflow. In Jesus name I pray –Amen*

May 252013
 

Five Minute FridayI miss my old house, the house that was on family land owned for multiple generations that we had to sell this year because it just made sense financially. I miss the views, yes views. Laying in bed or on the couch and looking out the windows at trees that are so old and tall that one must stick their head out the window and look up to see the tops of these beauties.

I miss running my dogs down the trail to our spring. The view halfway down the trail that of old cow pastures that haven’t been used in years, grown in with beautiful hay that sways with the most gentle of breezes. Then of course, there is getting to the turn around point where you can see marsh and sometimes lake and you can hear the trickle of the spring, you can see it bubbling, even when it’s minus 40 and you wonder why you are outside the size of that spring and its beautiful clear water with a sandy bottom flows, it doesn’t freeze, it becomes surreal to have feet of snow around it and then to have running water right there with hundreds of animal tracks from those who live there too and need a drink.

The views are different now, the trees not quite as old, the fields are smaller and the trees shorter even some of the animals are different even though I am only 15 minutes away. I see the sky so much easier here. I am not covered in a canopy of vines and branches and hundreds of flowers are not poking through at my feet.

The one plant I did take, my bleeding heart, my grandma’s bleeding heart, has grown to several inches already and I look at it and I feel happy that I moved it and sad that I had to leave her plants, her home, her land. I can’t wait for that plant to bud and blossom for the hearts it holds that bleed remind me so much of myself, so much of the pain I feel regularly while beauty surrounds me and even becomes me at times. Yes, a view that is representative of how it hurts to know my grandma is gone, a view that gives me hope for the eternal life, a view that tells me that even when my heart bleeds beauty resides inside of me, around me and in the Heavens above.

I tire and feel saddened by my journey to where I am right now, yet the fires and the marshmallows and the “hillbilly” baseball played with a stick instead of a bat make it worth the change. The trees may be different, the walls and the light all are different, but the end gift is so worth giving all of those things up. The giggles, the belly, laughs, the excited stuttering and ever the mood swings are all a part of growing up and they are my new “view”.bleeding heart may 18th 2012

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