Last night I put my son to bed,
but before he fell asleep,
he said he had some questions,
one or two that wouldn't keep.
And so, I sat back on his bed
and held his precious hand.
I lovingly gave him a squeeze
as his angelic voice began.
"Mommy, will you love me
when I dye my hair bright red,
when I won't stay still at bath time
and refuse to go to bed?
Mommy, will you love me
when my music is too loud,
or when you think you see me
hanging out with a fast crowd?
Mommy, will you love me
when I think I'm fully grown,
and I'm sure I must take action,
make decisions on my own?
Mommy, will you love me
when you’re sure your heart will break
because I insist on doing things
my way, for my pride’s sake?
And mommy, will you love me
when it’s time to let me go,
and you’re watching from afar
to see how seeds you’ve planted grow?
He finished and I smiled at
the worry on his face.
I asked a question of my own,
“Son, do you know your place?
The place you hold within my heart
is yours ‘til Kingdom come,
my love for you won’t be erased,
no matter what you’ve said or done.
So, though you will assert yourself –
you’ll spread your wings and fly –
you’ll always be the son I love,
the true love of my life.”
My son (he's two) is going through what my sister the therapist calls the "primal scream" stage of childhood. As you can imagine, he enjoys screaming. I'm happy, Mommy = SCREAM. I'm sad, Mommy = SCREAM. I'm sleepy, wet, dirty, hungry, full, thirsty, bored, you name it = SCREAM. I can't remember having gone through this with his brother, but I'm sure I did. Whatever part of the brain the ear-splitting screams affect must be the same part that houses my short-term memory. Oh well.
My question to you, the multitudes who read this blog, is, "Would it be wrong of me to sit on the floor with him and scream, too?" Probably, but I think I will, just once. First, though, I'm going to dust off my track shoes and do some endurance training so that when I partake in primal scream therapy and the men with butterfly nets chase me down the street, I'll have a chance to lead them on a merry chase before they shoot me with tranquilizer darts. Sounds like a plan.
See you during visiting hours.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Warrior Sisters
They are our mothers, our faithful friends,
the loving daughters we must defend.
Though we’re afraid and can’t pretend,
we’re warrior sisters until the end.
The fight we’re waging can be won.
With much more work, it can be done.
This battle touches all of us
as we fight to save the ones we love.
Fight on, fight on
with strength and love.
With warrior sisters, we’ll rise above.
The thought of failure, we can’t allow,
so we must fight and win somehow.
If it will strike, you never know,
but if the enemy invades your home
and you need help, a loving friend,
just take your warrior sister’s hand.
Fight on, fight on
with strength and love.
We warrior sisters will rise above.
The thought of failure, we can’t allow,
so we must fight and win somehow.
We can’t forget the battle now,
so we will fight and win somehow.
Yes, today is the last day of Breast Cancer Awareness Month. No, I didn't just write these lyrics today. I was trying to wait until November, to drive home the point that awareness does not end at 12:01 a.m. on November 1. Why didn't I wait after all? Well, tomorrow is not a promise, so I'm posting this today. It's that simple.
What deep words of wisdom do I have today? I think the lyrics say it all. Just prop each other up and never forget that someone needs encouragement. You may never know why they needed it at a particular moment, but what you say or do may be the fuel they need to keep waging whatever battle they face.
And to my dear friend, a true Warrior Sister: I wrote Fight On with you on my mind and in my heart. I love you and pray for you every day, even when daily life makes it difficult to call.
the loving daughters we must defend.
Though we’re afraid and can’t pretend,
we’re warrior sisters until the end.
The fight we’re waging can be won.
With much more work, it can be done.
This battle touches all of us
as we fight to save the ones we love.
Fight on, fight on
with strength and love.
With warrior sisters, we’ll rise above.
The thought of failure, we can’t allow,
so we must fight and win somehow.
If it will strike, you never know,
but if the enemy invades your home
and you need help, a loving friend,
just take your warrior sister’s hand.
Fight on, fight on
with strength and love.
We warrior sisters will rise above.
The thought of failure, we can’t allow,
so we must fight and win somehow.
We can’t forget the battle now,
so we will fight and win somehow.
Yes, today is the last day of Breast Cancer Awareness Month. No, I didn't just write these lyrics today. I was trying to wait until November, to drive home the point that awareness does not end at 12:01 a.m. on November 1. Why didn't I wait after all? Well, tomorrow is not a promise, so I'm posting this today. It's that simple.
What deep words of wisdom do I have today? I think the lyrics say it all. Just prop each other up and never forget that someone needs encouragement. You may never know why they needed it at a particular moment, but what you say or do may be the fuel they need to keep waging whatever battle they face.
And to my dear friend, a true Warrior Sister: I wrote Fight On with you on my mind and in my heart. I love you and pray for you every day, even when daily life makes it difficult to call.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
My Potential
For so long in my life,
I tried to achieve,
to realize the potential
others thought they had seen.
But for all of that time,
it eluded me, so
I could not understand
something I should have known.
So I tried to become
the "me" they knew I'd be
if I'd only embrace
the potential in me.
Then, I'd twist and I'd turn,
change my interests and look,
follow all the instructions,
memorize every book.
I'd try so hard to succeed,
to somehow fit in their mold,
yet I'd always fall short,
staying out in the cold.
I could never quite grasp,
I could not comprehend
the "me" that should result
from their dreams in the end.
Never one to give up,
I have fought the good fight,
letting this search consume
more than one sleepless night.
And now that I am tired,
bruised and battered, it seems,
I've decided instead
to realize my own dreams.
You see, the me I've become
has invented her look -
She defines her own interests
and dictates her own book.
I am learning that I will never be exactly the person anyone else expects or wants me to be - no matter how hard I try. And that's okay. No other person will ever be exactly what I expect or want either. I guess I can only hope that the people I love will accept the person I turn out to be just as I hope that I can accept the people they turn out to be.
I tried to achieve,
to realize the potential
others thought they had seen.
But for all of that time,
it eluded me, so
I could not understand
something I should have known.
So I tried to become
the "me" they knew I'd be
if I'd only embrace
the potential in me.
Then, I'd twist and I'd turn,
change my interests and look,
follow all the instructions,
memorize every book.
I'd try so hard to succeed,
to somehow fit in their mold,
yet I'd always fall short,
staying out in the cold.
I could never quite grasp,
I could not comprehend
the "me" that should result
from their dreams in the end.
Never one to give up,
I have fought the good fight,
letting this search consume
more than one sleepless night.
And now that I am tired,
bruised and battered, it seems,
I've decided instead
to realize my own dreams.
You see, the me I've become
has invented her look -
She defines her own interests
and dictates her own book.
I am learning that I will never be exactly the person anyone else expects or wants me to be - no matter how hard I try. And that's okay. No other person will ever be exactly what I expect or want either. I guess I can only hope that the people I love will accept the person I turn out to be just as I hope that I can accept the people they turn out to be.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
To My Friend
On January 16, 2004, I dedicated a poem to a dear friend. That was all she wanted for her birthday that year. My friend has been on my mind so much lately that I thought I would dedicate this blog entry to her. You see, after being the caregiver to the people in her life for a long time, she has recently begun what will likely be the toughest fight of her life - cancer treatment. She is handling it with grace and a faith that I find amazing to watch. Still, it's the hardest thing she's ever done and I wish I could make it better. Those of us who are blessed to call her friend can't go through it for her, but I hope that she knows that we will be there to help in any way that we can.
Daughter, sister, mother, friend,
we've only just begun.
Lover, carpool driver, wife,
you're all of them, each one.
Caregiver and our solid rock,
you nurture those you love.
Fiercely loyal, always giving,
yet it never seems to be enough.
You push yourself, demanding more
than we feel we can give.
If we were asked to do the same,
we wonder how we'd live.
But, as you know, the strength is there,
just waiting for life's call,
because in times of dire need,
a woman tends to give her all.
And though you may not always hear
the thanks that are your due,
those of us you've touched with love
are constantly inspired by you.
Those times when you don't really feel
appreciated, when
you're all alone and you're quite sure
your rope has reached its end,
just read these words for comfort, peace,
though words can't make it right
and know you can reach out to me,
friend, morning, noon or night.
I love you, my friend.
Daughter, sister, mother, friend,
we've only just begun.
Lover, carpool driver, wife,
you're all of them, each one.
Caregiver and our solid rock,
you nurture those you love.
Fiercely loyal, always giving,
yet it never seems to be enough.
You push yourself, demanding more
than we feel we can give.
If we were asked to do the same,
we wonder how we'd live.
But, as you know, the strength is there,
just waiting for life's call,
because in times of dire need,
a woman tends to give her all.
And though you may not always hear
the thanks that are your due,
those of us you've touched with love
are constantly inspired by you.
Those times when you don't really feel
appreciated, when
you're all alone and you're quite sure
your rope has reached its end,
just read these words for comfort, peace,
though words can't make it right
and know you can reach out to me,
friend, morning, noon or night.
I love you, my friend.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
The Way You Love Me
Some people wait a lifetime to be loved
the way you love me,
spending endless days in search of arms
to hold them through the night,
of hands to soothe away the sorrow,
help them face the next tomorrow,
words to promise them that someday
everything will be alright.
The way you love me is beyond my wildest dreams,
your love is deeper than my eyes have ever seen,
and though I don’t deserve to be the one, you chose me
to love the way you love me.
Some people waste their lives and never know
just what they’re missing,
empty shells and broken hearts,
in search of someone to believe.
When they ask me what’s so special in my life,
what’s so terrific,
what I choose to say is simply
what your love’s done in me.
The way you love me is beyond my wildest dreams,
your love is deeper than my eyes have ever seen,
and though I don’t deserve to be the one, you chose me
to love the way you love me.
The way you love me is beyond my wildest dreams,
your love is deeper than my eyes have ever seen,
and though I don’t deserve to be the one, you chose me
to love the way you love me.
And though I don’t deserve to be the one, you chose me
to love the way you love me.
Wouldn't it be wonderful to be loved not because of anything we've done to deserve it, but just because we are? That would mean we wouldn't have to worry about losing that love. That would mean that no matter how imperfect we were, that love would still be there, as strong as ever.
Well, although it would be really nice to have that with someone, it is not entirely possible with anyone in our lives. As human beings themselves, our loved ones have their own sets of restrictions that keep them from being able to love without any condition whatsoever.
How awesome it is to believe that God loves us that way - that He doesn't have those limitations and that He can love the unlovable not because of who we are but because of who He is!
the way you love me,
spending endless days in search of arms
to hold them through the night,
of hands to soothe away the sorrow,
help them face the next tomorrow,
words to promise them that someday
everything will be alright.
The way you love me is beyond my wildest dreams,
your love is deeper than my eyes have ever seen,
and though I don’t deserve to be the one, you chose me
to love the way you love me.
Some people waste their lives and never know
just what they’re missing,
empty shells and broken hearts,
in search of someone to believe.
When they ask me what’s so special in my life,
what’s so terrific,
what I choose to say is simply
what your love’s done in me.
The way you love me is beyond my wildest dreams,
your love is deeper than my eyes have ever seen,
and though I don’t deserve to be the one, you chose me
to love the way you love me.
The way you love me is beyond my wildest dreams,
your love is deeper than my eyes have ever seen,
and though I don’t deserve to be the one, you chose me
to love the way you love me.
And though I don’t deserve to be the one, you chose me
to love the way you love me.
Wouldn't it be wonderful to be loved not because of anything we've done to deserve it, but just because we are? That would mean we wouldn't have to worry about losing that love. That would mean that no matter how imperfect we were, that love would still be there, as strong as ever.
Well, although it would be really nice to have that with someone, it is not entirely possible with anyone in our lives. As human beings themselves, our loved ones have their own sets of restrictions that keep them from being able to love without any condition whatsoever.
How awesome it is to believe that God loves us that way - that He doesn't have those limitations and that He can love the unlovable not because of who we are but because of who He is!
Monday, July 16, 2007
When I See You
When I see You, it will be
all I'd dreamed and so much more.
I'll look up to see You standing
there to greet me at the door.
And Your face, it will be shining
true and bright, just like the sun
as You smile and finally tell me,
"Welcome home, My little one.
No more burdens, no more troubles,
no more trials to grieve your soul.
You're no longer sad and broken,
you've found joy and now you're whole.
You have toiled and you have labored,
you've done battle with the best.
Now, my good and faithful servant,
you'll enjoy eternal rest."
When I see You, oh, I'll see You
crowned in glory, robed in grace,
love without condition glowing
on Your holy, loving face.
Trumpets sounding, angels singing,
heralds of the battle won -
only when I finally see You
will my true life have begun.
To anyone whose loved one has been called home by our Lord,
and especially to Daddy and Carol N. today:
There are no words that can erase your loss,
but I hope you find some measure of peace
when you think about all that your loved one has gained.
all I'd dreamed and so much more.
I'll look up to see You standing
there to greet me at the door.
And Your face, it will be shining
true and bright, just like the sun
as You smile and finally tell me,
"Welcome home, My little one.
No more burdens, no more troubles,
no more trials to grieve your soul.
You're no longer sad and broken,
you've found joy and now you're whole.
You have toiled and you have labored,
you've done battle with the best.
Now, my good and faithful servant,
you'll enjoy eternal rest."
When I see You, oh, I'll see You
crowned in glory, robed in grace,
love without condition glowing
on Your holy, loving face.
Trumpets sounding, angels singing,
heralds of the battle won -
only when I finally see You
will my true life have begun.
To anyone whose loved one has been called home by our Lord,
and especially to Daddy and Carol N. today:
There are no words that can erase your loss,
but I hope you find some measure of peace
when you think about all that your loved one has gained.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
For One Precious Moment
For one precious moment,
I looked in your eyes
and I saw my world in your gaze.
I changed in an instant,
my heart filled with love
so strong that I'm still amazed.
You were mine
for one precious moment,
in my heart for eternity.
In my soul,
I'll hold you forever -
loving you has made me complete.
For one precious moment,
the world made more sense
and you gave me strength to go on.
I felt love so pure
it melted my heart -
it gave me hope that I'd never known.
You were mine
for one precious moment,
in my heart for eternity.
In my soul,
I'll hold you forever -
how your life has made me complete.
You're in my heart
and you'll be there forever,
in my soul for eternity.
In your hands,
you held my heart captive -
loving you has made me complete.
Loving you has made me complete.
How long is long enough to love someone completely? Would you be satisfied with a minute, an hour, a day, a week, a month, a year, 10 years, 20 years, 30 years? A lifetime? Is a lifetime even enough time to have with the people you love? Is that enough time to tell them, to show them how much they mean to you? Is it enough time to experience everything there is to know about love?
I firmly believe that no amount of time on this earth will ever be enough for me with my loved ones. There will always be one more thing I could have done, one more word I could have said, one moment I would wish I could have back. So, for as long as I am able, I have to love like this is the only moment I'll ever have with them. I have to love enough for a lifetime because, in my reality, even 100 years, once they have passed and my time with my loved one is at an end, will still feel like they passed in the blink of an eye.
Take time to celebrate love - each and every precious moment.
I looked in your eyes
and I saw my world in your gaze.
I changed in an instant,
my heart filled with love
so strong that I'm still amazed.
You were mine
for one precious moment,
in my heart for eternity.
In my soul,
I'll hold you forever -
loving you has made me complete.
For one precious moment,
the world made more sense
and you gave me strength to go on.
I felt love so pure
it melted my heart -
it gave me hope that I'd never known.
You were mine
for one precious moment,
in my heart for eternity.
In my soul,
I'll hold you forever -
how your life has made me complete.
You're in my heart
and you'll be there forever,
in my soul for eternity.
In your hands,
you held my heart captive -
loving you has made me complete.
Loving you has made me complete.
How long is long enough to love someone completely? Would you be satisfied with a minute, an hour, a day, a week, a month, a year, 10 years, 20 years, 30 years? A lifetime? Is a lifetime even enough time to have with the people you love? Is that enough time to tell them, to show them how much they mean to you? Is it enough time to experience everything there is to know about love?
I firmly believe that no amount of time on this earth will ever be enough for me with my loved ones. There will always be one more thing I could have done, one more word I could have said, one moment I would wish I could have back. So, for as long as I am able, I have to love like this is the only moment I'll ever have with them. I have to love enough for a lifetime because, in my reality, even 100 years, once they have passed and my time with my loved one is at an end, will still feel like they passed in the blink of an eye.
Take time to celebrate love - each and every precious moment.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Degrees of Separation
Subscribing to the theory that there are six degrees of separation between any two people means more than knowing someone who knows someone who knows someone, etc., who knows Kevin Bacon. In actuality, any degree of separation means a lot more than that. It means that you know someone who knows someone who is unhappy, someone who is in love, someone who feels unloved. It means that you affect the life of someone who knows someone who knows someone who is sick, someone who is dying, or someone who is on the verge of unleashing some great potential for the good of unknown numbers of someones.
Whichever degree of separation you are - whether you are the one who just found out that you are sick or the friend of a friend of someone who knows someone who met someone at the doctor's office who had just been diagnosed with cancer - you will have an effect, direct or indirect, on the lives of many, many people. You may be raising a future teacher who will open the eyes of children who would otherwise never have been so touched by learning; you may be sitting next to a woman who, if not for your careless words of kindness, would have felt she had no hope in the world; you may be reading the blog of a soon-to-be highly acclaimed author making a difference in people's lives (your lips to God's ears).
The point is - well, there are a few points here, but today's focus will be this one - that you may have no idea why you are where you are today in your life. The world may make no sense to you and hope may be a distant memory, but as long as you are here, in this world, in this life, you are a degree of separation for someone and someone is that degree of separation for you. You are someone's link to some promise of the future and someone is the same for you. How sad would it be if your link were taken away before it served its purpose? And how sad it would be for you to miss the opportunity to be that link for someone else.
Think of it this way: If I know someone who knows someone who knows someone who knows someone who knows Kevin Bacon, I miss my chance to claim that relationship if any one of those people ceases to be a link. And then where am I? Kevin Bacon-less.
Some Kind of Angel
How did you know that I would make it?
How did you know I could stand on my own?
There was no way that you could have faked it -
you never doubted that I would be strong.
How did you sense the secrets of my heart?
How did you find the key to my dreams?
You seemed to expect that I'd be victorious.
How did you know? How did you see?
Are you some kind of angel, sent down from heaven
to help me through struggles and to set my heart free?
Will you stay here forever and keep me in your heart,
'cause I'm sure you're an angel and I need you with me.
How'd you decide that you would let me in?
What made you so willing to put your trust in me?
You held out your hand, so sure I would take it,
How did you know? How did you see?
Are you some kind of angel, sent down from heaven
to help me through struggles and to set my heart free?
Will you stay here forever and keep me in your heart,
'cause I'm sure you're an angel and I need you with me.
Thank God for my angel, sent down from heaven,
you've helped me through trouble and set my heart free.
You'll be with me always, 'cause I've kept you in my heart,
My heavenly angel, sent down to me.
Whichever degree of separation you are - whether you are the one who just found out that you are sick or the friend of a friend of someone who knows someone who met someone at the doctor's office who had just been diagnosed with cancer - you will have an effect, direct or indirect, on the lives of many, many people. You may be raising a future teacher who will open the eyes of children who would otherwise never have been so touched by learning; you may be sitting next to a woman who, if not for your careless words of kindness, would have felt she had no hope in the world; you may be reading the blog of a soon-to-be highly acclaimed author making a difference in people's lives (your lips to God's ears).
The point is - well, there are a few points here, but today's focus will be this one - that you may have no idea why you are where you are today in your life. The world may make no sense to you and hope may be a distant memory, but as long as you are here, in this world, in this life, you are a degree of separation for someone and someone is that degree of separation for you. You are someone's link to some promise of the future and someone is the same for you. How sad would it be if your link were taken away before it served its purpose? And how sad it would be for you to miss the opportunity to be that link for someone else.
Think of it this way: If I know someone who knows someone who knows someone who knows someone who knows Kevin Bacon, I miss my chance to claim that relationship if any one of those people ceases to be a link. And then where am I? Kevin Bacon-less.
Some Kind of Angel
How did you know that I would make it?
How did you know I could stand on my own?
There was no way that you could have faked it -
you never doubted that I would be strong.
How did you sense the secrets of my heart?
How did you find the key to my dreams?
You seemed to expect that I'd be victorious.
How did you know? How did you see?
Are you some kind of angel, sent down from heaven
to help me through struggles and to set my heart free?
Will you stay here forever and keep me in your heart,
'cause I'm sure you're an angel and I need you with me.
How'd you decide that you would let me in?
What made you so willing to put your trust in me?
You held out your hand, so sure I would take it,
How did you know? How did you see?
Are you some kind of angel, sent down from heaven
to help me through struggles and to set my heart free?
Will you stay here forever and keep me in your heart,
'cause I'm sure you're an angel and I need you with me.
Thank God for my angel, sent down from heaven,
you've helped me through trouble and set my heart free.
You'll be with me always, 'cause I've kept you in my heart,
My heavenly angel, sent down to me.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Mother's Day
Today is Mother's Day, so before I say anything else, I would like to wish all of the mothers out there a wonderful day (or that you've had a great day). On this day, let the people you love celebrate you and all you do and are. Let them express their love and appreciation for you in their way. It may not look the same as your ideal celebration would, but if it is a sincere expression of their love and gratitude, it is a blessing and should be accepted as such.
You may ask yourself why I may have sounded a little preachy in the last few sentences of the first paragraph. Well, here goes. For Mother's Day this year, my husband took me and our boys to a baseball game. We had great seats (where the foul balls are usually caught) in the sixth row, the weather was perfect and the kids lasted through the entire game with no mishaps.
For those of you who do not know this, a baseball game is not my idea of a wonderful day for mommy. The pollen count must have been a zillion, the sun was extremely strong (on my face) and I don't particularly enjoy crowds or the knowledge that, at any moment, a large projectile may come at me or my family at upwards of however many miles an hour. Now that I have set the stage, you can imagine how thrilled I was to attend a baseball game on Mother's Day.
I tried to explain to my husband that taking me to a baseball game for Mother's Day was like me taking him to an Avalon concert for Father's Day. While he may eventually enjoy it, the choice of gift would be more about me than him. I think he finally got it when I used the Avalon analogy (I'm pretty sure he doesn't know who they are), but I don't know that his choice of gift will change much in the future.
You see, my husband's goal was to give me a day with the family. He wanted to give me time, which is something I often ask him to do. He wanted to give me a few hours of happy kids, happy, attentive husband, and together time. Surprise of surprises, he succeeded. Would I have had that at the spa? Would the day have been as nice if we had stayed at home (I'm an incorrigible homebody) and stared at each other all day? Would the gift have meant as much if it hadn't been from the heart or if it hadn't involved spending TIME with him?
My husband gave me the one thing he has the hardest time giving, the thing that means the most to him outside of his family - time. Did it look exactly the way I thought I wanted it to? Did it look exactly the way it would have if I had given it? No. But if I'm honest with myself, it was so much more wonderful because it came from him. It was so him and to love him means that I love his expression of love.
So, what did I learn on this Mother's Day? What precious morsel of wisdom do I come away with this evening? It's quite simple, actually. I need to let the people who love me do it in their own way without looking at it through glasses colored by my way of doing things, my absolute "knowledge" that only I know how to express love. Sometimes, I have to look past the package to recognize and celebrate the gift itself.
You may ask yourself why I may have sounded a little preachy in the last few sentences of the first paragraph. Well, here goes. For Mother's Day this year, my husband took me and our boys to a baseball game. We had great seats (where the foul balls are usually caught) in the sixth row, the weather was perfect and the kids lasted through the entire game with no mishaps.
For those of you who do not know this, a baseball game is not my idea of a wonderful day for mommy. The pollen count must have been a zillion, the sun was extremely strong (on my face) and I don't particularly enjoy crowds or the knowledge that, at any moment, a large projectile may come at me or my family at upwards of however many miles an hour. Now that I have set the stage, you can imagine how thrilled I was to attend a baseball game on Mother's Day.
I tried to explain to my husband that taking me to a baseball game for Mother's Day was like me taking him to an Avalon concert for Father's Day. While he may eventually enjoy it, the choice of gift would be more about me than him. I think he finally got it when I used the Avalon analogy (I'm pretty sure he doesn't know who they are), but I don't know that his choice of gift will change much in the future.
You see, my husband's goal was to give me a day with the family. He wanted to give me time, which is something I often ask him to do. He wanted to give me a few hours of happy kids, happy, attentive husband, and together time. Surprise of surprises, he succeeded. Would I have had that at the spa? Would the day have been as nice if we had stayed at home (I'm an incorrigible homebody) and stared at each other all day? Would the gift have meant as much if it hadn't been from the heart or if it hadn't involved spending TIME with him?
My husband gave me the one thing he has the hardest time giving, the thing that means the most to him outside of his family - time. Did it look exactly the way I thought I wanted it to? Did it look exactly the way it would have if I had given it? No. But if I'm honest with myself, it was so much more wonderful because it came from him. It was so him and to love him means that I love his expression of love.
So, what did I learn on this Mother's Day? What precious morsel of wisdom do I come away with this evening? It's quite simple, actually. I need to let the people who love me do it in their own way without looking at it through glasses colored by my way of doing things, my absolute "knowledge" that only I know how to express love. Sometimes, I have to look past the package to recognize and celebrate the gift itself.
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
Rising From the Ashes
Rising From the Ashes
All across this barren land
burned and battered by the sun,
drenched with sweat and tears in battle,
stained by rivers of our blood,
lives and families have shattered,
no one spared the scars of war,
no one free from all the suff’ring
or the pain that’s gone before.
And yet we’re rising from the ashes,
from being trampled in the dust.
Even though we’ve been held down,
you can never count us out
because we’re never giving up.
Nobody’s riding to our rescue,
we’re not expecting charity,
but with a faith that is divine,
we will stand and we will fight
‘til every one of us is free.
Turn your eyes up to the sky,
watch the morning as it dawns,
see the promise of tomorrow
in the future as it’s born.
Because we’re rising from the ashes,
from being trampled in the dust.
Even though we’ve been held down,
you can never count us out
because we’re never giving up.
Nobody’s riding to our rescue,
we’re not expecting charity,
but with a faith that is divine,
we will stand and we will fight
‘til every one of us is free.
With a faith that is divine,
we will stand and we will fight
‘til every one of us is free.
Ever since the Don Imus Situation (heretofore referred to as The DIS) was resolved (in a manner of speaking), I have wanted to post this entry. You may ask yourself why I haven't done so. Well, I don't know, but here it is.
I can't tell you how happy I am that we (by "we" I mean everyone, regardless of race, gender, etc.) have shown yet again that when we "lift every voice and sing," we can accomplish something. Having said that, I don't know that we accomplished as much as we could have. Bear with me here - I'm certain quite a few people will disagree. But, this is my blog, so I can say what I want to.
When I say that I'm not sure we accomplished as much as we could have, what I mean to say is that we should not have been so shortsighted in our efforts. The uproar that followed The DIS caused sponsors of the show to pull their support, which led CBS and MSNBC to terminate Mr. Imus's employment. That may seem like he received his due. As a matter of fact, I hear very little talk of the situation now, so everything must be okay, right?
Well, in my opinion, losing his job so that he can obtain an even more lucrative one elsewhere is not going to curb his or anyone else's tongue. It is not going to change the way anyone views the "nappy-headed h_s" he referred to, nor will it help minority and disadvantaged children conquer the mentality that tells them it's okay for someone (ANYONE) to make such derogatory comments about them or anyone else as long as big business doesn't disagree.
The problem here isn't Don Imus or his producer or MSNBC or CBS or the corporate sponsors who waited for this latest infraction to take a stand. The problem we face is not that Michael Richards used "the n-word" in ways that even the imperialists who thought it up in the 1600s could not have imagined possible. And, surprise, surprise, the problem has not been solved by people like Howard Cosell, Jimmy the Greek, Don Imus or his producer losing their jobs.
The problem is that minority and underprivileged children - the ones who are growing up as the targets of vile diatribes, crass jokes, low expectations and an educational system that was designed to "keep them in their place" - never actually benefit from the resolutions we reach when these situations come to light (I won't say when they occur because they occur behind closed doors all the time).
Here's my point: When The DIS occurs again (and it will, just by some other name), the perpetrator should be made to keep his or her high-paying job. The perpetrator should then be persuaded by public opinion, sponsors, etc. to adopt several inner city elementary schools (you know, the ones in which many of his "nappy-headed h_s" often begin their education) and contribute to providing the equal opportunity in education that is the only thing that will put those children in the position to compete in the marketplace. Until enough of those children grow up to run these multi-billion dollar companies and make policy decisions that regulate what is or is not acceptable, it's always going to be somebody else's daughter being insulted, somebody else's son dying at war.
I am not saying that Don Imus is any more of a racist than any other human being. I'm definitely not saying that it's okay for "some people" to use certain words and not others. I am saying that if someone is in the public eye and people listen to that person, he or she is able to influence others to do the right or the wrong thing. I understand that Don Imus has used his considerable influence to raise money for "the children" and I applaud him for that. I would have liked to have seen his repentance in this instance reflect that dedication to children. I am certain a man who has raised that much money for kids would have welcomed the opportunity.
All across this barren land
burned and battered by the sun,
drenched with sweat and tears in battle,
stained by rivers of our blood,
lives and families have shattered,
no one spared the scars of war,
no one free from all the suff’ring
or the pain that’s gone before.
And yet we’re rising from the ashes,
from being trampled in the dust.
Even though we’ve been held down,
you can never count us out
because we’re never giving up.
Nobody’s riding to our rescue,
we’re not expecting charity,
but with a faith that is divine,
we will stand and we will fight
‘til every one of us is free.
Turn your eyes up to the sky,
watch the morning as it dawns,
see the promise of tomorrow
in the future as it’s born.
Because we’re rising from the ashes,
from being trampled in the dust.
Even though we’ve been held down,
you can never count us out
because we’re never giving up.
Nobody’s riding to our rescue,
we’re not expecting charity,
but with a faith that is divine,
we will stand and we will fight
‘til every one of us is free.
With a faith that is divine,
we will stand and we will fight
‘til every one of us is free.
Ever since the Don Imus Situation (heretofore referred to as The DIS) was resolved (in a manner of speaking), I have wanted to post this entry. You may ask yourself why I haven't done so. Well, I don't know, but here it is.
I can't tell you how happy I am that we (by "we" I mean everyone, regardless of race, gender, etc.) have shown yet again that when we "lift every voice and sing," we can accomplish something. Having said that, I don't know that we accomplished as much as we could have. Bear with me here - I'm certain quite a few people will disagree. But, this is my blog, so I can say what I want to.
When I say that I'm not sure we accomplished as much as we could have, what I mean to say is that we should not have been so shortsighted in our efforts. The uproar that followed The DIS caused sponsors of the show to pull their support, which led CBS and MSNBC to terminate Mr. Imus's employment. That may seem like he received his due. As a matter of fact, I hear very little talk of the situation now, so everything must be okay, right?
Well, in my opinion, losing his job so that he can obtain an even more lucrative one elsewhere is not going to curb his or anyone else's tongue. It is not going to change the way anyone views the "nappy-headed h_s" he referred to, nor will it help minority and disadvantaged children conquer the mentality that tells them it's okay for someone (ANYONE) to make such derogatory comments about them or anyone else as long as big business doesn't disagree.
The problem here isn't Don Imus or his producer or MSNBC or CBS or the corporate sponsors who waited for this latest infraction to take a stand. The problem we face is not that Michael Richards used "the n-word" in ways that even the imperialists who thought it up in the 1600s could not have imagined possible. And, surprise, surprise, the problem has not been solved by people like Howard Cosell, Jimmy the Greek, Don Imus or his producer losing their jobs.
The problem is that minority and underprivileged children - the ones who are growing up as the targets of vile diatribes, crass jokes, low expectations and an educational system that was designed to "keep them in their place" - never actually benefit from the resolutions we reach when these situations come to light (I won't say when they occur because they occur behind closed doors all the time).
Here's my point: When The DIS occurs again (and it will, just by some other name), the perpetrator should be made to keep his or her high-paying job. The perpetrator should then be persuaded by public opinion, sponsors, etc. to adopt several inner city elementary schools (you know, the ones in which many of his "nappy-headed h_s" often begin their education) and contribute to providing the equal opportunity in education that is the only thing that will put those children in the position to compete in the marketplace. Until enough of those children grow up to run these multi-billion dollar companies and make policy decisions that regulate what is or is not acceptable, it's always going to be somebody else's daughter being insulted, somebody else's son dying at war.
I am not saying that Don Imus is any more of a racist than any other human being. I'm definitely not saying that it's okay for "some people" to use certain words and not others. I am saying that if someone is in the public eye and people listen to that person, he or she is able to influence others to do the right or the wrong thing. I understand that Don Imus has used his considerable influence to raise money for "the children" and I applaud him for that. I would have liked to have seen his repentance in this instance reflect that dedication to children. I am certain a man who has raised that much money for kids would have welcomed the opportunity.
Sunday, April 8, 2007
Love's Journey
Love's Journey
Love is not a destination,
it's a journey undertaken,
full of bumps in winding roads
we cannot navigate alone.
The path grows dark, the road is long,
lined with pride and righted wrongs.
It seems the pitfalls rise to meet
our naked, unprotected feet.
And so, we stumble and we fall
because this journey takes our all.
It leaves us spent, in search of hope
or anything to help us cope.
We scratch and claw with battered hands
adorned by shiny wedding bands,
these symbols of eternal love
sanctified by God above.
We try to get back to the place
where love lit up our lover's face;
the light so bright we could not see
how hard this odyssey would be.
But as we fight, we glimpse the hand
on which we placed that wedding band
and gaze upon that face anew,
just wondering what we would do
if we should lose that lover's touch,
not hear the voice we love so much,
'til once again we realize
the value of this blessed prize.
As much as we would like to think so these days, I truly do not believe that love is all about feeling good all of the time. It's not possible for one person to always feel good anymore than it is possible for one person to make another person happy all the time. There are days when people who love each other fight. There are days when they don't want to talk to each other. There are days when they ask themselves what they are doing together in the first place.
Love, whether between lovers, siblings, parents and children or friends, is what all human beings want. It is also the hardest thing to do. It takes work, time, energy and everything else we have to give. It can never work if it is one-sided and it is not fulfilling if taken for granted. It is also impossible to demonstrate once the object of our love is no longer around to accept it.
If there is true love between you and someone in your life, love that person today. You may not have the chance tomorrow. And never forget that before you can love that other person on any given day, you have to love, respect, trust and be good to yourself.
What have you done today to show the people you love (including yourself) how important they are to you? Regardless of how good a job they are now doing or have done in the past demonstrating their love to you, when you lie down to sleep tonight, will you know that you know that you know that you loved to the best of your ability today?
That's my goal - to know that I have demonstrated to those who love me how much I love and cherish them. Every day. Every chance I get.
Love is not a destination,
it's a journey undertaken,
full of bumps in winding roads
we cannot navigate alone.
The path grows dark, the road is long,
lined with pride and righted wrongs.
It seems the pitfalls rise to meet
our naked, unprotected feet.
And so, we stumble and we fall
because this journey takes our all.
It leaves us spent, in search of hope
or anything to help us cope.
We scratch and claw with battered hands
adorned by shiny wedding bands,
these symbols of eternal love
sanctified by God above.
We try to get back to the place
where love lit up our lover's face;
the light so bright we could not see
how hard this odyssey would be.
But as we fight, we glimpse the hand
on which we placed that wedding band
and gaze upon that face anew,
just wondering what we would do
if we should lose that lover's touch,
not hear the voice we love so much,
'til once again we realize
the value of this blessed prize.
As much as we would like to think so these days, I truly do not believe that love is all about feeling good all of the time. It's not possible for one person to always feel good anymore than it is possible for one person to make another person happy all the time. There are days when people who love each other fight. There are days when they don't want to talk to each other. There are days when they ask themselves what they are doing together in the first place.
Love, whether between lovers, siblings, parents and children or friends, is what all human beings want. It is also the hardest thing to do. It takes work, time, energy and everything else we have to give. It can never work if it is one-sided and it is not fulfilling if taken for granted. It is also impossible to demonstrate once the object of our love is no longer around to accept it.
If there is true love between you and someone in your life, love that person today. You may not have the chance tomorrow. And never forget that before you can love that other person on any given day, you have to love, respect, trust and be good to yourself.
What have you done today to show the people you love (including yourself) how important they are to you? Regardless of how good a job they are now doing or have done in the past demonstrating their love to you, when you lie down to sleep tonight, will you know that you know that you know that you loved to the best of your ability today?
That's my goal - to know that I have demonstrated to those who love me how much I love and cherish them. Every day. Every chance I get.
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
Who He Made Me to Be
I've always had the hardest time accepting who I am. I don't know why - there's nothing wrong with me. You can even say I've had a charmed existence. Yet, for some reason, I have always had this sense that I wanted to be anywhere other than my own skin. Strange. Or maybe not so strange when you think about it. Apparently, women are much more likely to be dissatisfied with themselves - their appearance, intellect, choices, abilities, you name it - than their male counterparts. For some reason, we tend to feel the need to define ourselves based on outside factors. Like we let these outside influences in and once inside, they take up permanent residence and influence everything we say, do, think and feel. Picture letting someone into your house. You want the person to visit. You like the person, but would like him or her to leave at some point, go home and maybe come back and visit another time. The only problem is, that person doesn't want to leave. He or she refuses to open the door and go home. Soon, that person has left a mark on everything in your house and your home is no longer a reflection of you but somehow that person's influence on you. That's not such a strange analogy when you think that women are programmed, even built, to have to let people inside. The trick is not to let what comes inside take over what is already there. Whatever is there is there for a reason far more important than any other person, place or thing. What's there was not placed there by mistake and should therefore be cherished and protected. What's there should be cultivated and used for the divine purpose for which it was placed there.
As for the guest who won't leave, that's probably because we never actually open the door and say, "It's time to go. See ya later." At least, that's often been the case for me. I have, in the past, been afraid to open the door, afraid that I would be empty and my guest would not want to return. Well, I'm pretty sure if what's inside my house is pleasant enough, any guest worth having will want to return at some point. If not, my home just isn't for them and that's okay too.
Who He Made Me to Be
You should love who I am,
not who you'd like to see,
or you might never know
who I'm destined to be.
As His masterful hands
mold and sculpt me like clay,
I don't have time to guess
who I might be someday.
So, I go where He leads
as He stretches my bounds
and I try to find joy
in who I am right now.
I become as He sculpts,
sanding down, He refines.
He perfects me with love,
every curve, every line.
How He shapes me with care,
kneads the clay that I am,
every nuance a gift
to be used for His plan.
Oh, He loves who I am -
I'm who He wants to see,
and with His love, I become
who He made me to be.
As for the guest who won't leave, that's probably because we never actually open the door and say, "It's time to go. See ya later." At least, that's often been the case for me. I have, in the past, been afraid to open the door, afraid that I would be empty and my guest would not want to return. Well, I'm pretty sure if what's inside my house is pleasant enough, any guest worth having will want to return at some point. If not, my home just isn't for them and that's okay too.
Who He Made Me to Be
You should love who I am,
not who you'd like to see,
or you might never know
who I'm destined to be.
As His masterful hands
mold and sculpt me like clay,
I don't have time to guess
who I might be someday.
So, I go where He leads
as He stretches my bounds
and I try to find joy
in who I am right now.
I become as He sculpts,
sanding down, He refines.
He perfects me with love,
every curve, every line.
How He shapes me with care,
kneads the clay that I am,
every nuance a gift
to be used for His plan.
Oh, He loves who I am -
I'm who He wants to see,
and with His love, I become
who He made me to be.
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Who I Am
I am who I am because God has a plan,
He's predestined each breath that I take.
In the palm of His hand, I just don't understand
how He knows every move that I'll make.
With His wisdom, His glory, His infinite love,
He has taken root deep in my soul,
still, no matter what choices or plans I may make,
His great plan is beyond my control.
I look like I do 'cause He planned that out, too,
from the curl of my hair to my grin.
If my butt's the wrong size, circles under my eyes,
He still loves what He sees from within.
Why do I act this way, well, God knew I'd behave
like I do since He first thought of me,
which was long before time, before reason or rhyme,
long before I was even conceived.
So what's this, my excuse for a bad attitude,
or the times when I relish a fight?
Or complain to no end, when I'm not a good friend
and I fail to exhibit His light?
Am I trying to say that I've somehow obtained
His permission to squander His gifts?
No, it's my choice to make, every step that I take
is my choice - I decide how I live.
Believing that God created me the way I am, gifts and faults, pros and cons, does not give me license to place blame for my actions on Him or anyone else. I have to accept who I am, who I am meant to be, while taking responsibility for what I do with what God has given me. At the end of the day, I choose what I do with what I've been handed. When people talk about life handing you lemons and making lemonade with them, that's not set in stone. In most instances, nobody is going to hold your hand while you squeeze the juice out. I have, in my life, made lemonade with some of the proverbial lemons, been angry enough to use some of them as projectiles aimed at myself and others, and let some of the lemons rot while I waited for something better to come along. What I'm trying to say is, we're dealt a certain hand - how we play it is up to us.
He's predestined each breath that I take.
In the palm of His hand, I just don't understand
how He knows every move that I'll make.
With His wisdom, His glory, His infinite love,
He has taken root deep in my soul,
still, no matter what choices or plans I may make,
His great plan is beyond my control.
I look like I do 'cause He planned that out, too,
from the curl of my hair to my grin.
If my butt's the wrong size, circles under my eyes,
He still loves what He sees from within.
Why do I act this way, well, God knew I'd behave
like I do since He first thought of me,
which was long before time, before reason or rhyme,
long before I was even conceived.
So what's this, my excuse for a bad attitude,
or the times when I relish a fight?
Or complain to no end, when I'm not a good friend
and I fail to exhibit His light?
Am I trying to say that I've somehow obtained
His permission to squander His gifts?
No, it's my choice to make, every step that I take
is my choice - I decide how I live.
Believing that God created me the way I am, gifts and faults, pros and cons, does not give me license to place blame for my actions on Him or anyone else. I have to accept who I am, who I am meant to be, while taking responsibility for what I do with what God has given me. At the end of the day, I choose what I do with what I've been handed. When people talk about life handing you lemons and making lemonade with them, that's not set in stone. In most instances, nobody is going to hold your hand while you squeeze the juice out. I have, in my life, made lemonade with some of the proverbial lemons, been angry enough to use some of them as projectiles aimed at myself and others, and let some of the lemons rot while I waited for something better to come along. What I'm trying to say is, we're dealt a certain hand - how we play it is up to us.
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