Words Softly Spoken

Fail!

Let’s face it. I fail!

Not just sometimes, but a lot more than I care to admit.

I am not a soft-spoken person. I don’t know how to be, nor have I ever been. Matter of fact, I specifically recall several years ago. I went up for prayer because of my terrible marriage. My terrible husband constantly caused me grief and undue stress. This little prayer warrior woman looked up at me, square in the eyes. She then said, “Learn to keep your mouth shut.” It would hold you in good standing.

As I reflect, I realize that there was only one soft-spoken and genteel person in our family. That person was my maternal grandma. Mama sure wasn’t … and still isn’t. My daughters, too, all have loud voices. We spout out. When my grandson was small, he listened to us three talking up a storm. It was something we usually did. He made an observation and commented on how “extra” we were. Haha. I wish I could say it’s a Nuyorican thing. Nuyorican refers to a Puerto Rican born in New York. But I’m not so sure I can get away with that.

So, amidst the clatter and the sounding of clucking hens, I want to be still. Especially when we womenfolk get together (you should hear my aunts in the same room). In my alone and quiet time, I want to hear God’s voice.

Amid the chaos, I need His peace that surpasses all my understanding. I need His strength when I am weak. I want His guidance and wisdom to flood my soul and take over. You know how it is: Jesus, take the wheel! Help me to be the woman you have called me to be. Give me an understanding beyond my comprehension. I want my words to be seasoned with grace. May my answers be gentle and kind to others, even within my own family. In times of frustration, confusion, and ruckus, we should remember something important. God is NOT the Author of confusion. He is the Author of peace.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve been bombarded with many challenges and distractions lately. And you know what? Today is my birthday! I received a birthday card from Mama. The words on the envelope were addressed to me. They leaped out and touched me to the core of my being. I just stared at the words: To My Baby Girl … and wept. You have to know that Mama isn’t big on giving compliments or speaking platitudes. But these words spoke volumes. Our mother-daughter relationship is a complicated one. Yet here she was telling me in the best way she knew that she loved me. Yes, people, we need to count our blessings.

A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver.
(Proverbs 25:11).

Ok, never too old to learn, I’m still working on this!

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An Open Heart – Part II

(To read PART I, click here …)

Expect nothing… Just keep an open heart and an open mind.

Once in Florida, Mark and I planned to visit my dad. We also decided to drive a couple of hours to Tampa to finally see his biological son, Marshil. Mark hadn’t seen him since he was a small boy. My husband remained deep in thought, and I only imagined him full of nerves. I pretended to go along with Mark’s plan to drive to Tampa. Meanwhile, I was secretly scheming a different plan. I initially informed Marshil about our plans to be in Kissimmee during Father’s Day week. He said he planned to be there for a few days, too. He had tickets to attend a concert. I asked Marshil if he had mentioned any of this to Mark. He said no. I suggested that he keep it that way. So, together, we decided to arrange a surprise reunion for Mark.

When the big night finally arrived, the meet-up place was a nice steak joint. Mark was none the wiser. He thought it was just a date night. We were planning to head out to Tampa the next day. Later, when Mark came out of the restroom, Marshil stood right in front of him, saying hello. They embraced, and for a moment, time stood still.

Someone said: It is not flesh and blood but the heart which makes us fathers and sons.

I sat pensively, observing the mannerisms of a father and son. While listening to their conversation, I was amazed. The connection transpiring right before my eyes touched me deeply. I deeply hope and pray that these two men, so much alike, will truly reconnect. I wish they could regain some of those years gone by. Neither one has had an easy life. Many experiences are filled with pain, discouragement, and regret. Some hard lessons are in tow.

Sometime later, I asked my hubby what he had taken away from meeting Marshil. He answered, with misty eyes, “I expected nothing but hoped for the best. I really like him! And he doesn’t hate me!”

I’ve read that every man tries to live up to his father’s expectations. Alternatively, he may try to make up for his father’s mistakes. I don’t know how much of that is true. I know that these two men have strong work ethics. They are likable, lovable, and loyal. There is a little craziness in them. They have a record of being a number one, devoted stepdad.

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“You can’t go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending.” C.S. Lewis

Today, the dam was broken. The tide has turned. The waters shifted.

Only God can heal and transform hearts. While it’s true we don’t know what the future holds, I know Who holds our future. I’m giving all my concerns to God. He will work out the details of my uncertainties and troubles. He’s a lot better at holding things together than I am anyway. Thank you, Lord, for being the Author and Finisher of my faith!

Here’s to second chances and new beginnings! We look forward to spending more quality time together and expect meaningful conversations in the coming days, months, and years. 

Click here to read “My Heartbeat – PART I”

 

 

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My Heartbeat – Part I

This past Father’s Day week was filled with anticipation of renewal and adventure. With the ongoing planning came lots of prayers and nerves into the unknown.  

Let me explain …

As more COVID mandates about wearing masks, social distancing, etc., were lifted, people began to venture out again and travel. It was decided that my husband and I would fly to Florida for a one-week vacation. Finally, I was going to be with my dad and celebrate Father’s Day with him. I connected with my sister, who made all the meeting arrangements.

They said Daddy was in the beginning stages of dementia. My concerns were many … the main one being: will Daddy remember me? Oh, how I prayed that he would! 

In Kissimmee, we met at an outdoor market. When I walked up to Daddy, the familiar twinkle in his eyes met me. Those eyes still sparkled! We hugged and kissed. Yes, he remembered me! Later, when we embraced longer, I took his beautiful face all in, and my tears started falling. He hugged me, looked me in the eye, and asked, “Why are you crying?”

I cried because I love him. I cried because God is good and granted me another tender moment with my dad, forever imprinted in my heart. I cried because I missed my daddy. I cried because he is getting older and frail, and I didn’t ever want him to forget me. I cried because we live in another state and I couldn’t always be by his side. I cried because I was grateful. I got to know him after he and my mom separated when I was 3. They divorced by the time I was 6. I cried because I knew he wouldn’t always be around for us to visit. I cried because of the dreaded impending reality of a child one day having to say goodbye to their parent. Forever.

To Everything There is a Season Ecclesiastes Saying Cricut image 0

Daddy, if you could see yourself through my eyes, you would know how special you are to me. And I am grateful for our time together.

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When you thought I wasn’t looking

Author: Unknown

When you thought I wasn’t looking,

I saw you hang my first painting on the refrigerator,

and I wanted to paint another one.

When you thought I wasn’t looking,

I saw you feed a stray cat,

and I thought it was good to be kind to animals.

When you thought I wasn’t looking,

I saw you make my favorite cake for me,

and I knew that little things are special things.

When you thought I wasn’t looking,

I heard you say a prayer,

and I believed that there was a God to talk to.

When you thought I wasn’t looking,

I felt you kiss me goodnight,

and I felt loved.

When you thought I wasn’t looking,

I saw tears come from your eyes,

and I learned that sometimes things hurt,

but it’s alright to cry.

When you thought I wasn’t looking,

I saw that you cared,

and I wanted to be everything that I could be.

When you thought I wasn’t looking,

I looked…

and I wanted to say thanks for all the things

I saw when you thought I wasn’t looking.


Becoming a Mom is watching your heart walk outside your body.


To all the Mommys out there. Your little ones are watching …

always remember your job is important and will make a great

impact for all eternity.

.

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He Completes Me

“I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.”

He is the one for me. He is the man who has stuck by my side since day one as my loving confidant, helpmate, and best friend. He is the man who loves me, cherishes me, and tells me that I am beautiful. He loves me on my best days and he loves me on my worse days. He knows my past and has never belittled me or made me feel inadequate. He is faithful, a man true to his word. I can count on his constant love and remain secure in his arms. He praises me for my accomplishments and encourages me in my failures. When I’m happy, his warm laughter melts my heart. When I’m sad or fearful, his gentle touch wipes away my tears.

I love you, my husband. And I am proud to be your wife. I am truly grateful to the Lord for joining us together to share the remainder of our days. As we celebrate our twenty-seventh wedding anniversary, may our constant love nourish and sustain each other until the end of time.

You can read about him in Chapter 42 of my book: “Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace

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¡El Chupacabra!

“I can draw just as good as our uncle can, or you,” Big Brother Ruben said matter-of-factly.

“No, you can’t,” I corrected.

“Can too.”

“Cannot.”

“Can—”

“¡Niños! Callense ya!” Grandma cut in. “Dis is why you two can’t be together.”

Ruben and I looked at each other, puzzled by what she meant. But this statement became the reason Ruben and I usually had to trade places during Daddy’s visitation. Because we siblings horsed around and played too “wildly” together, when our daddy would come for me to go to his house for the weekend, he’d drop Ruben off to stay with our grandparents or with Mama. This was the normal arrangement. On rare occasions, we visited together.

My brother loved to tease me to get a reaction out of me. One weekend together at Daddy’s was no exception.

“Com’on, will ya?” Ruben impatiently waved his arm as if it would fall off, standing with the bathroom door open.

Curiosity got the best of me. “Hold your horses,” I said, trying to sound like Mama.

Big Brother looked like the cat that swallowed a pigeon, a canary, or something.

“You better not be foolin’ me,” I warned.

“Don’t be so sentimental,” he said, practicing the use of big words.

“Am not.”

“Are too. And you’re never gonna guess what’s in here.”

“Can too.”

“Can not.”

“Gimme a hint.”

Ruben shook his head. “Negative.”

“Cuz, it’s gonna be nuthin’.” I stomped my foot and crossed my arms, dying to know what was inside. “You just tryin’ to trick me.”

He stood in front of the closed shower curtain and held onto it. “Ready?” Ruben asked, with eyes wide.

“Go on . . . it ain’t nuthin’.”

“It’s too . . . it’s—” With one swoop, Ruben yanked the curtain and cried, “¡El Chupacabra!”

I let out a long scream at the huge form floating in the tub.

Daddy came running out of breath. “¿Qué fue?” he demanded. “What’s wrong? What happen here? ¡Caramba! I hear you all da way outside.”

“Daddy, Ruben told me it’s ‘El Abra Ca Dabra, the goat sucker,’” I whined, mispronouncing the word. 

“¿Qué? ¡Oye! What s’matter wit you?” Daddy demanded in his accent. “Why can’t you play nice? You dun do dat to your sister.” He popped Ruben on the head with his hand.

My brother flinched but kept grinning at me, mouthing the words, “boba,” before he disappeared.

Mija, you know what dis is?” Daddy asked, holding me by my shoulder.

“It’s a pink, dead pig!” I screeched. “Why is he in the tub of water?”

“Gloria is goin’ to make pernil. We gonna eat him.

“Roasted pig? No, Daddy, that’s yucky.”

“Whachu talkin’ ‘bout? I betchu never had it before,” he said, closing the shower curtain. “You’ll see,” he winked, taking my hand. “It’s gonna be so good.”

If my daddy said something, he was usually right.

It was yummy.

Excerpt from “Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit & Grace“, Chapter 7 – Big Brother

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My Son

Not long ago, my curly-locked hair little boy ran around with deep brown eyes and touched my heart each time he looked up at me.

And then I blinked, and before I knew it, this little boy turned into a strapping young man with a heart as pure as gold, and my core still flutters every time I gaze up at him.

Happy Birthday, son. I love you.

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We Love You, Paul!

There are folks that come into your life and make such an impact, they remain forever imprinted in your heart. Paul was one of them. As I reflect on a memory of nearly a year ago, I wanted to share with my readers how one man made a difference to those who knew him. He was a godly man – a wonderful husband, father, grandpa, and friend. Although my husband and I had only known Paul a short while, he was one of the most endearing and God-loving individuals we had come to know, love and admire. His charm and wit were a breath of fresh air.

Last year, the ‘Andrew Sisters’ got to perform again for our church’s Sweetheart Banquet. Because of illness, Paul and his precious wife, Joyce, were unable to attend. So the Andrew Sisters went to them and performed “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy” in their home. It not only brought a smile to Paul’s face but it lightened up our day as well, while we hammed it up and sang (or rather lip-synced) our hearts out!

Paul Daugherty, we honor you. You will forever be missed on this green earth. We looked forward to the Blessed Hope, of that great reunion one day in the heavenlies.

Click here to read about last year's performance The Andrew Sisters – Near You 1947

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Road Less Traveled…my truth

This has been a challenging year for all. I never imagined I would be alive in a time like this. The events occurring these days are astonishing! Many are left shocked, confused, and angry, and some have lost their ever-loving minds over worry, paralyzed in fear!

Is it not true every day we have to make choices? Do we not decide daily on what actions to take? How are we going to react? I for one believe in the power of prayer. Prayer brings results. But I don’t doubt there are days when our prayers cry out, “God, are you there? Are you listening?”

He is. And He does.

I do not pretend to have all the answers. I am flawed. I am an imperfect being trying to serve a perfect God. His ways are higher than my ways. As a Christian, I am not immune to the happenings of this world. Family and dear friends have experienced illnesses. Some are due to COVID. They have faced setbacks because of circumstances beyond their control. They have also endured hurtful disappointments because, well, we’re humans.

In Robert Frost’s poem The Road Less Taken, towards the end, he mentions the road less traveled. I want to be on that road. What does that mean exactly? I’m sure it means different things to different people.

For me, the road less traveled is to be on the road of steadfastness. It means not faltering or leaning on my own understanding. I want to be on the road less traveled. I want to be collected and in my right frame of mind. When much confusion lies before me, I feel overwhelmed. At times, I may stumble. I might not know what to do. Still, I want to be on the road less traveled in my prayer closet. I prefer this instead of bickering and complaining.

Someone, please show me the road less traveled—to trust in God instead of doubting Him. Guide me to the road less traveled. Help me believe it is well with my soul. Help me trust in the best yet to come. Point me to the road less traveled. I want to be free from the weight of the world. Keep its troubles off my shoulders.

I want to walk in faith and not in fear. Sing and not scream. Be tender and not hardened. Pliable and not crushed. Teachable and not a know-it-all.

These are my truths, what I hope to achieve someday. I don’t want to follow the crowd of ‘woe is me!’ Instead, I will listen in humbled silence. I will hearken to the still small voice that beckons me to be still and know that He is God.

 Whenever I approach the two roads of life, I want to look heavenward. I want to take the road less traveled. That choice has made all the difference.

landscape photography of forest

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In Everything Give Thanks

HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!!! I'm thankful for all of you, and I just  wanted to let … | Happy thanksgiving images, Happy thanksgiving pictures,  Thanksgiving images

If I’m to be honest, I was bummed out for a couple of days, knowing I would be missing our traditional, family Thanksgiving Day celebration in our home, which has always filled my heart with so much joy. But now instead, I choose to focus on what I do have and count my blessings which are many, giving God thanks and the glory for all in my life!

Even on my worst days, He loves me! I have known Him in the valley, I have known Him on the mountaintops. While I love being on the mountaintops, it was in the valleys where I grew closest to my Lord and learned that the God on the mountain is still God in the valleys.

I am thankful He has given me health, provision, shelter, a loving husband, a beautiful family, and wonderful friends – He has made many dreams come to fruition.

I am a work in progress. Thank you, Lord, for not having given up on me, and I know you’re not finished with any of us yet.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL MY FAMILY AND FRIENDS!!!

“In everything give thanks, for this is the will of God for you in
Christ Jesus.” 1 Thess 5:18

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