It’s been three years since you’ve been gone from us … you would have turned 91 years old today. I know you are celebrating the best birthday ever. On this day, I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday in heaven.
I hope you know you are sorely missed. It’s no secret we’ve been through some hard times together. Although you weren’t the perfect mother, I wasn’t the perfect daughter. Perhaps, we were perfect for each other. I pretty much miss everything about you! Never thought I’d say, even your bickering over something or about someone. I miss buying you trinkets, pretty blouses, and taking you to a nice restaurant. It was good to help you forget problems and enjoy your special day. Making you smile meant everything to me.
In the end, it hurt to let you go, but seeing you suffer in pain was worse. I asked the Lord that you’d still be around on Mother’s Day. And God called you home in time; it was on Mother’s Day at 3 pm. You are totally healed now. You have no more pain. There is no discomfort, or tears, or worry. You are with your Savior and loved ones who have gone on before you. Please send them all my love.
I will never forget you. Sending you kisses and all my love, Mama.
Definition of damaged goods: inadequate or impaired. Products that are broken, cracked, scratched, etc.: a person considered no longer desirable or valuable because of something that has happened. This is a person whose reputation is damaged.
Are you damaged goods? Feel like you’re not worthy?
You don’t have to remain that way, regardless of your past, or present.
Was that ever me?
You betcha!
Read on …
Hollow. Pure loneliness. Dark, like a bottomless pit. Ripping in my chest. Piercing my heart. Again, he stays out all night. Overcome by torment. Abandonment accompanies me. Consumed with depression, isolation wraps itself around me. My mind races with wild imaginations of where he has gone, what he is doing, and with whom.
Instead of going to bed to sleep, I am wearing a hole in the couch. Every time a car approaches, I spring like a jack-in-the-box, peeking out the window, hoping he has returned. With every disappointment, my stomach turns into knots. My own sobs mock me until I cry myself to semi-consciousness. Hideous lies will follow after he returns and add to my anguish and emotional decline.
Broken. Flawed. Undone.
That was me back then, dealing with my former (cheating) husband. His words, like rubbing alcohol pouring over fresh wounds, stung! No band-aids healed my emotional pain. No quick fixes. Deeper and deeper I sank into a dark abyss, crushed beyond repair. For several years, that was my pathetic frame of mind. I know now it didn’t have to be that way. So, what was the deal?
I had an overload of abuse: physical, verbal, and emotional. I had low self-esteem and zero self-worth. I believed and accepted a lie about me and my situation. I figured since this was my lot in life, might as well make the best of it. I had witnessed my mom go through a cycle of abuse, but I was obviously blind to my own. I made him mad again … Maybe I deserved it … Talk about co-dependency!
How do you perceive yourself? Have you ever been lied to, beaten down, and trodden upon? Feel like you’ll never come up for air? Are you tired of stumbling around in blindness, things so bleak you can’t even see your own self-worth? Drowning in sorrow, buried in self-pity? Or maybe you feel you’re at the point of no return in trying to please someone else. You compromise your values, your mental state, your resources, and your health!
Stop allowing someone’s negativity or ill-treatment to rob you of your joy and develop a callous heart. Realize you are worthy. You are valued and matter. There’s nothing wrong with being fragile … but let it be like beautiful, fine china. Just know you are not damaged goods, a throwaway, or a faded memory. Don’t be someone’s victim because you listened to their lies and empty promises. I’m living proof that God doesn’t discard what He’s determined to restore.
Get up! Rediscover yourself. Feel your wrist. What is that? A pulse? Then you have a purpose! Allow the Master’s hand to reach down and set you in high places. He’ll wipe the tears and dust the soot from off your heart. If God got me out of the pit, He can get you out, too. It takes a made-up mind. A determination that today is the best day of the rest of your life.
What’s in your hands? What’s in your heart? A dream? A gift? A precious child? You have something worth fighting for. Choose your battles.
If you don’t know my pain, you’ll never understand my praise.
I’ve heard it said, “The world didn’t give it to you and the world can’t take it away.”
Joy: a feeling of great pleasure and happiness. At least that’s what I read online. Sounds good to me, but I know from experience that pleasure and happiness don’t last. Let’s face it, most of us look to others to please us. We often look to others to make us happy. We also look for things to bring us pleasure and happiness. But if we’re honest, that in itself is fleeting, isn’t it? Before you know it, we’re needing another fix!
So, how is “joy” different?
The Bible teaches that the joy of the Lord is our strength. (Nehemiah 8:10b); I love that! But can one experience joy while going through everyday life with its many toils, twists, and turns? To be honest, during times of trauma, the thought of joy escapes me. I mean, I’m not necessarily thinking about joy during these times. Matter of fact, I may even kick and scream (inwardly), and even have actual meltdown periods, or panic attacks.
When I read my Bible, I am reminded that the joy of the Lord is my strength. This is what it means to me: it’s a joy unspeakable and full of glory!
I may not be able to explain it, put my finger on it, or even see it. But I know it’s there – I know it in my knower. (Bear with me, please, I’m fully aware this isn’t “correct” English.) But I just know that I know. It’s not an “in your face” kind of thing. It’s not necessarily giddiness. It’s not even a denial of difficulties. For me, it’s a reassurance that everything will be all right. I may not understand some things, even while having a breakdown, feeling sad, or grieving.
The pain is real. The battle is real. But so is the joy real. This joy is indescribable. Come hell or high water, I feel safe and secure in my Heavenly Father’s arms. It feels just like when I was a child in my earthly daddy’s arms. Even in the midst of pain and sorrow, here is where there’s strength and comfort. This joy floods the heart; it brings inner peace and strength, even though everything else around may be chaotic.
I didn’t always know this or believe this. But through my experiences, I’ve learned a few things. Learn to be still. Quiet. Wait on God’s perfect timing. Life happens. Happiness is fleeting. Pleasure is temporary. But the joy of the Lord remains constant regardless of circumstances and situations.
I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday in heaven today. I hope you know you are sorely missed. It’s no secret we’ve been through some hard times together. Although you weren’t the perfect mother, I wasn’t the perfect daughter. Perhaps, we were perfect for each other. I pretty much miss everything about you. Never thought I’d say, even your bickering over something or about someone. I miss buying you trinkets, pretty blouses, and taking you to a nice restaurant. It was good to help you forget problems and enjoy your special day. Making you smile meant everything to me. In the end, it hurt to let you go, but seeing you suffer in pain was worse. I asked the Lord that you’d still be around on Mother’s Day. And God called you home in time; it was on Mother’s Day at 3 pm. You are totally healed now. You have no more pain. There is no discomfort or worry. You are with your Savior and loved ones who have gone on before you. Send them all my love.
I rarely think about my age. However, my body sure reminds me whenever I throw my back out. It also reminds me of when my knee pops. And yes, in the mirror, I sometimes notice an extra line here or another wrinkle there. I gaze upon certain areas of my physique. I wonder where “it” went and when “that” changed.
From time to time, I muse about my early years. I had to grow up so fast. Then, I had four small children in my teens and young adulthood. The next thing I knew, my twenties were gone, and my marriage was deteriorating. Divorced in my thirties – I felt like a failure, but the world did not end. I remarried by my mid-thirties. Thank God for new beginnings. I can shout from the rooftop that no marriage is so good that it can’t be made better! (You see, I’ve been married most of my life.) In my forties, I embraced the wonders of grand-parenting. In my fifties, I felt the notorious body aches and pains. I found myself being a caregiver to a dear little centenarian. She taught me about living one day at a time.
In my sixties, the seasons changed again for me. This time, I sadly had to say so long to my mama. Within three months, I embraced the wonders of great-grandparenting. And she is GREAT.
As I reflect on this aging process, I realize I don’t have all the answers. However, I believe I’ve learned a thing or two about what life has dealt me. Someone said, “Accept what is, let go of what was, and have faith in what will be.”
I read Psalms 90:12: “So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts to wisdom.” This passage speaks to me and tells me to make each day count. I must remember to live in the present, not the yesteryears or tomorrows. I must remember to laugh often, love deeply, pray sincerely, and believe that my best days are before me.
Another birthday has come and gone. I can’t help but think: Have I done all I ever wanted to do? Of course, the answer is a resounding no: not even close. Am I running out of time? That’s God’s business. I believe life is a gift from God, and I’ll take each day and cherish the moment. He is the reason for every good thing, every heartbeat, and every second chance. Each. And. Everyday.
I may not know what tomorrow holds, but I know Who holds my tomorrow.
I am thankful for God’s goodness and the love I still see in my grown children’s eyes. I cherish the laughter of my grandchildren’s voices and the giggles of my great-granddaughter. The warmth of my husband’s embrace fills my heart. I am grateful for the scent of rain lingering in the air. The taste of grateful tears streaming down my cheeks reminds me of my joy. I am thankful for yet another year with loved ones and friends.
Someone said age is a myth and beauty is a state of mind. I like that.
May I grow old gracefully, forever blooming where I am planted, one petal at a time.
This has been a week of swirling events that boggle the mind.
I never liked hurricanes from my childhood days growing up in Miami. As an adult living in Houston, I certainly didn’t want them now.
We prepared for the anticipated Hurricane Beryl to cross our path. We filled our vehicles with gas. We went grocery shopping for water and all the necessities while supplies last. My husband filled our portable generator and several oil lanterns with fuel. We hunkered down, determined to make the best of the situation.
On Mon, July 8th, Hurricane Beryl made landfall around 3:30 a.m. The pelting rain on the windows woke us. She was a Category 1 storm with 80-mph damaging winds and beating down hard. In no time, the roads flooded and we had tornado warnings. At least 3 people were reported dead from this detrimental storm. Sure enough, we had a power outage. I looked at the time: 6:14 am. Thank goodness, my husband soon cranked up the generator. That generator kept both refrigerators running, the TV, a couple of fans, and my computer for work. Thankfully, our internet never went down.
That afternoon, we assessed our property for damages. Besides tree branches and leaves scattered across the backyard, our roof and wooden fence remained intact. We gladly helped a neighbor in two ways. We kept their meat in our freezer. We also charged their phone charger every day. Our gas stove cooked warm meals, and we used oil lanterns for light in the evenings.
When evening came, it was still cool enough from the heat. I opened the windows as I continued to work from home with a small fan blowing on me. But with each passing hour, the heat intensified, becoming an unwelcome distant cousin of Hurricane Beryl. Thank God for being able to take cool showers!
Over 2.4 million people were left without power. By Tuesday morning, 100% of the rain had come down, which meant we had to close the windows. We knew this delayed CenterPoint Energy from restoring our power. I tried to stay upbeat, but truthfully, I became irritable, gripping, and listless.
By day three, with our power still out, I drove to the office, as their power had been fully restored. I drove through my neighborhood that morning. I was flabbergasted to see all the debris, fallen branches, and uprooted trees. One tree had toppled over a house in my subdivision! My heart went out to that family. I realized that no matter the circumstances, it can always be worse. I asked the Lord to help me weather the aftermath of this storm.
Saturday – day six, and still no power. I was thankful for our ongoing generator. I worked half a day from home. I prepared a meal in the crockpot and relaxed in my recliner. I sat near the bedroom window to watch a Netflix series. Later that evening, my son ran in saying that Trump had been shot. My heart skipped a beat as I turned on the news. We remained glued to the TV. We watched and re-watched the horrific attempted assassination of former President Donald Trump. It happened at a campaign rally in Pennsylvania. The time was approximately 7:15 pm CDT.
Trump dodged a bullet when he turned his head at just the right moment. This resulted only in nicking his upper right ear. This was a close call – I believe – an act of divine intervention. God is not finished with him yet. The Secret Service rushed Trump off the stage into the SUV. He showed remarkable resiliency, courage, and strength. He encouraged the crowds cheering for him at the rally.
“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” Psalm 46:1
We are not promised tomorrow. We can only live for today and strive to do our best with what we have been entrusted with. We all come from different walks of life. As a Christian, I certainly don’t have all the answers; in fact, I am left with more questions about today. The Bible says, “It rains on the just and unjust.” I know that my God is still on the throne. Nothing takes Him by surprise.
I thought about God’s protection and what being in the eye of the storm meant. There are many storms in this life. Storms can be so intense. If you let them, they’ll shake you to the core and rob you of your peace. They’ll take away your joy and even your sanity. May we learn to trust in the One who calms the seas and the storms, and rest in Him.
I am happy to report that a little past 8:00 p.m. on that same Saturday night, the power came back. Oh, and it returned to our area. This definitely was one emotionally taxing six days, and I am forever grateful this chapter is behind us.
“In order to realize the worth of the anchor, we need to feel the stress of the storm.” Corrie ten Boom
Reflecting can be a good thing. Last year, on Thanksgiving Day, I remember feeling sad and a bit irritated. The reason: we were not able to have our regular holiday family gathering due to the COVID-19 pandemic restrictions. My emotions floundered all over the place. I did my best to focus on the positive. I even wrote this message to my family and friends:
To be honest, I’ve been bummed out for a couple of days. I will miss our traditional family Thanksgiving Day celebration at home. It has always filled my heart with so much joy. Instead, I must choose to focus on what I have. I will count my blessings. I give thanks and glory to God for all in my life!
Even on my worst days, He loves me! I have known Him in the valley and on the mountaintops. While I love being on the mountaintops, trudging in the valleys was where I grew closest to my Lord. I learned that the God on the mountain is still God in the valleys.
I am thankful He has given me health, provision, and shelter. He has also given me 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. 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
Jump over to the present:
I am happy to report that this Thanksgiving holiday was special in many ways. Yes, I am genuinely grateful for my loved ones. I glanced around the table as we celebrated the holiday with prayer, food, and fellowship. I caressed my eyes over each face representing my family. And I realized: Mary, you’re not alone anymore. You see, as a kid growing up, I once felt alone and rejected. In fact, I often felt insignificant, always on the outside looking in. I had many insecurities and felt much like a second-class citizen. It took many years into my adulthood to experience inner healing. I finally received a breakthrough in my personal life. I decided to put my story to pen and paper. Then I published my book, “Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace.”
Thanks to my youngest daughter’s prompting, we did something different this year. We each held a strip of paper with questions, taking turns reading aloud and then answering the questions. This was epic because the questions prompted us to dig deep and share heartfelt answers.
As I listened to the different ones share, I felt immense gratitude. My heart was full upon hearing my children speak over me. I wasn’t prepared for this raw reaction, nor was I prepared for what I would say when my turn came. I found that I could share my heart with thankfulness and humility. I blessed each of my children and grandchildren, expressing to them what I appreciated about them. I blessed my husband for being the man that he is. I also blessed him for accepting somebody else’s children. He stepped up to the plate, another man left on the table. And finally, I turned to my mama. I expressed my undying love for her. Our relationship is complex, regardless. I also asked her for forgiveness for getting short-tempered with her. I assured her that I will always be her little girl.
We are all flawed, but we can rise above stinking thinking and look beyond ourselves. Look at others, really see them, and love them. I thank the Lord for making all things new—His mercies are new every morning!
Thanksgiving 2021
“Family is the best thing you can ever wish for. They are there for you during the ups and downs and love you no matter what.”
“A mother is she who can take the place of all others but whose place no one else can take.”
“The best time for new beginnings is now. Thank you Lord, for new beginnings.”
“Let’s be thankful together. Other things may change us, but we start and end with the family.”
“So, there is this boy he kinda stole my heart- he calls me ‘Mimi.'”
“Granddaughters are angels sent from above to fill our hearts with never ending love.”
“Always remember whose daughter you are. Stand tall and straighten your crown.”
“Happy Birthday to my beautiful eldest daughter, more like a sister to me.”
I remember first holding you, so tiny in my arms. Next thing I knew, you turned two, angelic, like a charm. Your silhouette dancing in my dreams before my eyes – Remembering your joy with my simple lullabies.
I imagine your eyes, your voice, your laughter, Spending time together, nothing else mattered. Thinking about you often before crawling into bed at night, I loved you so much that I never wanted you out of my sight.
I wish you could tell me what’s on your mind today.
What are the things you’re longing to say? Would you have married a wonderful husband? Live in a castle and have many children?
Oh, if only, if only, I could see you now, I would run to you, hold you tight, and twirl you around!
Oh, sister, there will always be a hole in my heart, But I guess I knew that from the start. If I still had you now to talk with, share secrets with, laugh, and cry I would not be here now thinking: Why? Why did you have to die?
Dear Readers:
As we approach the anniversary of my baby sister’s life and death, what I have shared is very dear and personal to my heart. As my eyes mist with tears, I still feel my heart burn heavily from missing her! But please understand that I do NOT “blame” God for my sister’s death! Our God is Sovereign, and I believe He allows certain things to happen to us for His greater plan and purpose. (Isa. 57: 1). After all, His ways are higher than our ways.
Now, I’m not by any means a theologian, a preacher, or a Bible teacher. I’m just a layman, a simple woman of faith, with a finite mind trying to serve an Infinite God. I know it rains on the just and unjust (Matt. 5:45); bad things happen to good people.
If I am to be honest, I don’t always understand the mind of God. Howbeit, I purpose in my heart to trust Him! And if I am to be truthful, yes, to this day my heart does have a few unanswered questions. Occasionally, in my life journey, I have meltdowns, wallow in self-pity, and find myself clouded by doubts and fears. However, because of His steadfast love and unfathomable mercy for me, I thank God I don’t have to remain in that state of mind!
You see, I am a work in progress.
In memory of my sister, who prematurely passed away 53 years ago, at the hands of a hit-and-run driver. (To learn more of her story, click here.) She would have been ten years older than my firstborn daughter! I had to say goodbye to my little sister when I was nine, just a month after she turned two. I remember so much pain and suffering as a child back then. In retrospect, I believe God may have spared her from something worse. I look forward to the Blessed Hope that someday we will be reunited and once again embrace one another. She will not return to me, but I will go to her one day (II Sam 12:23). And we will NEVER have to be apart.
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!
The Spanish translation of Running in Heels is complete—but the journey isn’t over. This memoir of grit and grace is being prepared for publication in Spanish, to reach hearts across cultures and generations. From family setbacks to divine provision, every step has been a testimony.
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From Heart to Heritage
Reflections From the Heart 