Tag Archives: life

December 3, 2015 · 9:30 PM

Circle of Life

Once upon a time, there lived a lonely girl. Intimately acquainted with an empty stomach, she carried hunger in her heart, starving for love.

In spite of her destitute and inner turmoil, she grew up and broke away, searching for love. Eventually, she’d marry and have a family of her own, never dreaming of how they’d fill the void in her heart.

In the circle of life, her little ones grew to have little ones of their own.

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She felt young at heart again, and couldn’t imagine life without them.

And the not-so-little-girl wasn’t lonely anymore.

The end.

7 Comments

Filed under Life, musing

Tagged as #ThankfulThursday, children, Family, gratefulness, legacy, life, Musing, nostalgia, personal

October 9, 2015 · 11:49 AM

Not that Girl Anymore

She is not the girl who scratched and clawed her way to the top. She is the girl who learned how to float to prevent her from sinking when life tried to weigh her down. Who walked on pebbles and used them as her stepping stones to get to higher ground. Who learned that childlike faith in the God above would blossom into something much greater than herself. She may have had father figures who were missing in action, but she became comforted by a Heavenly Father who never left her side.

Once dejected and rejected, today she no longer is that sad, little girl. Don’t feel sorry for her. Applaud her, because it was during the dry seasons that she discovered an oasis. Rejoice with her, because in the darkness is where she found a beacon of light. Admire her for rising above her crisis in spite of her circumstances. She may have started out in the valley, pecking along like a chicken digging for worms. But then the Ancient of Days taught her to spread her wings like an eagle and soar into the air over the mountaintop.

Don’t cry for her, feel sad for her, or grieve for her. If you’re looking for a lost and lonely child, she is not here. Misunderstood, she may be; a wonder to many she may be. If you’re looking for perfection, she is not that girl. If you expect to see sophistication or to hear profound eloquence, you may be disappointed. Her past may want to dictate her future, the voices in her head play a broken song, and her name may even mean “bitter” — but she refuses to be that girl anymore.

What kind of girl is she? A simple girl. A grateful girl. A blessed girl. She is stronger today for everything she endured. She appreciates the beauty of living life one day at a time. She surrounds herself with those who encourage and genuinely care for her. She clothes herself with a garment of praise, amazed by the wonders of God’s grace.

Sad . . . alone . . . afraid.

Not that girl anymore.

“The past does not have to be your prison. You have a voice in your destiny. You have a say in your life. You have a choice in the path you take.” Max Lucado

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Filed under Survivor

Tagged as Faith, hardships, life, Max Lucado quote, memoir, personal, struggles, survivor

April 28, 2014 · 7:11 AM

The Measure of Days

Meet Elizabeth. My husband, daughter and I care for her. For the past six days, she has been in the hospital. Without going into all the medical jargon, her quality of life is the key to her time left with us. She may be elderly. She may be frail. But she has the heart of a lioness! She is like family. She has not only enriched our lives but all with whom she comes into contact. After a specialist performed a procedure on her, his words to us were, “Well, I didn’t want it to happen, had no intention of letting it happen, but she got to me. She’s in,” he said and added, “She’s in here,” pointing to his heart.

Indeed, to know her is to love her. Today she’s back home with us and we are grateful. I cannot help but think about the measure of her time left with us.

I think about an hourglass; time flowing like sand, slipping away.

Photo Credit: ipsbmtc via Compfight cc

I think about the tick tock of a clock, a timepiece of the human heart’s mortality.

Photo Credit: Left Foot via Compfight cc

“LORD, make me to know my end, and the measure of my days, what it is: that I may know how frail I am.” Psalm 39:4

The above scripture reminds me that life is fleeting. Although I cannot truly measure my days, I will strive to make each day count and remember that while I may be weak, my God is strong. When I think about life, I can’t help but think about a 103-year-old woman name Elizabeth with her zest for life, her love for others, and all that she means to me!

I wrote about this remarkable woman before; you can read my post here This Lesson Called Life

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Filed under elderly

Tagged as elderly, life, quality of life, time

Aside

Circle of Life

Once upon a time, there lived a lonely girl. Intimately acquainted with an empty stomach, she carried hunger in her heart, starving for love.

In spite of her destitute and inner turmoil, she grew up and broke away in search of love. Eventually, she’d marry and have a family of her own, never dreaming of how they’d fill the void in her heart.

In the circle of life, her little ones grew to have little ones of their own.

She felt young at heart again, and couldn’t imagine life without them.

And the not-so-little girl wasn’t lonely anymore.

The end.

10 Comments

December 30, 2013 · 9:29 PM

Aside

This Lesson About Life

The lesson about life with its many twists and turns has been an amazing journey. I often think: What legacy will I leave behind when I’m finished with this race? What I do today, will it count for something tomorrow? When I’m long gone, will I merely be a faded memory or a burn in someone’s heart? Will my deeds be forgotten? Lost? Or buried?

I’ve read about some incredible women. These women did not allow age, status, limitations, or even imprisonment to keep them from their destiny. As fleeting as it is, they knew their self-worth and value in this life. Women like Mother Teresa gave 50 years of service to the poor, the sick, the orphans, and the dying in Calcutta India. Women like Corrie ten Boom who spent 10 months in a concentration camp, at the age of 53 began a worldwide ministry that took her into more than 60 countries in the next 33 years of her life. I didn’t know them personally, but they were admirable, inspirational women.

They made a difference.

Many endearing women have come into my life, not only as friends, but as mothers, sisters, and grandmothers. While each embodies unique gifting, each holds a special place in my heart.

One such individual is Elizabeth. She loves people. She is full of life, charm, and wit. She believes in having a 90% attitude and 10% circumstance. She loves to laugh, crack a joke, watch the Kentucky Derby, share about her travels around the world, read anything that takes her miles away, watch The Lawrence Welk Show, and go right on dancing if only she could.

I’ve known her for over thirty years, but within the past couple of years, she is unable to use her walker. She doesn’t walk anymore. Yet her mind is still intact; her wits still sharp, as well as her tongue. My husband, daughter and I take care of her. While we attend to her daily needs, she is teaching us about life. Oh, and did I mention a horse and buggy rushed her to the hospital and that she was one-years-old during the Titanic?

That’s right, Elizabeth was born in 1911. You do the math.

To know Elizabeth is to have your life enriched.

As I age, may I emulate her love and passion for living.

22 Comments

October 24, 2013 · 10:26 PM

October 17, 2013 · 6:34 AM

This Thing Called Tears

I consider myself a tough cookie. After all, aren’t I a survivor? I’ve survived some hard times: A broken home by age three, followed by poverty, hunger, homelessness, alcoholism, neglect, loss of a sibling at age nine, two near-drowning incidents, a car wreck, juvenile detention home, taunting, brawls, racism, alternative schooling, marriage to a ruthless man twice my age, bearing four children by the time I was twenty-two—three by cesarean—physical abuse, verbal abuse, emotional abuse, betrayal, hopelessness, despair, rejection, abandonment, being shot at (he missed), divorce, single-parenting …

BUT God!

Howbeit, there is a softer side to me as well. This thing called tears. Yes, a family member has even called me sentimental. I have been known to cry after losing a pet, even an insect. I cried when I shot my first deer. I may cry when reading a book, in a dance, a song, during weddings, or when watching a movie. I especially cry when I hear a newborn’s first cry, whether in real life or on TV, I can’t help it, the tears flow. I sometimes cry when opening presents, saying goodbye, at being pleasantly surprised, while laughing, praying, or worshipping in church. Seeing mountains, rainbows, the ocean, a kitten, or a hummingbird can make me cry. I cried when I heard my grandchild call me “Mimi” for the first time. And at times, I cry when I’m hurt, scared, tired, or angry.

But I don’t want you to know that. I am tough. Not weak. Remember?

Now I’m not much of a horse person, but I know enough to know that a horse is full of grace and strength with every muscle, tendon, and ligament working in unison to support a rider at galloping speed. Yet, that same powerful, majestic horse is controlled by a bit in its mouth and will move in the direction the rider wants to go.

When I read about Moses, he was the meekest man who walked the earth. When I read about Jesus, He was all-powerful, yet kept that power in check. His meekness was not a weakness.

So, I say: It’s okay to let our guard down at times and reveal our softer, sensitive selves. It doesn’t mean we’re a softy, a weakling, or a pushover. Power under control means self-control, and that is a virtue. After all, we are human with God-given emotions. Besides, God bottles our tears.

And because God loves us so much, I would venture to say: Sometimes God cries.

23 Comments

Filed under musing, virtues

Tagged as horses, Jesus, life, Moses, Musing, personal, social, tears, tough, virtue

Aside

Faded Roses?

Age. Aging. Ageless.

I rarely think about my age but the body has a way of reminding me whenever I throw my back out or my knee pops. And yes, in the mirror I sometimes notice an extra line here, another wrinkle there, and as I gaze upon certain areas of my physique I find myself wondering, where did “it” go and when did “that” change?

From time to time I muse about my early years in having to grow up so fast, and then in my teens and young adulthood in raising four children. 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), and 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.) Then when I approached my early forties, the seasons changed again for me, this time, embracing the wonders of grand-parenting.

So, in my fifties, as I reflect on this aging process—knowing I certainly don’t have all the answers—I’ve learned a thing or two about what life has dealt me.

I read in 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 in the yesterdays or in the tomorrow. I must laugh often, love deeply, pray sincerely, and believe that my best days are before me.

As my birthday quickly approaches the corner, I can’t help but think: have I done all I ever wanted to do? Of course, the answer is a resounding: 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.

I love the lyrics to “Every Good Thing” by The Afters:

I tend to be busier than I should be
I tend to think that time is going to wait for me
Sometimes I forget and take for granted
That it’s a beautiful life we live
I don’t want to miss the moments like this
This is a beautiful life You give

You’re the reason for every good thing, every heartbeat
Every day we get to breathe
You’re the reason for anything that lasts, every second chance
Every laugh
Life is so sweet
You’re the reason for every good thing

There will be days that give me more than I can take
But I know that You always make beauty from my heartache
Don’t want to forget or take for granted
That it’s a beautiful life we live
I’m not going to miss the moments like this
This is a beautiful life You give

It’s our family, it’s our friends
It’s the feeling that I get when I see my children smile
You’re the reason for this life, everything we love
It’s You alive in us
You’re alive in us

You are here in every moment, and I know that You’re every good thing
You are here in every moment, and I know that You’re the reason for
You are every good thing

For the love I still see in my children’s eyes, the laughter in my grandchildren’s voices, the warmth of my husband’s embrace, the scent of rain lingering in the air, and the taste of grateful tears streaming down my cheeks, I am thankful for the goodness of God in granting me another year.

Someone said that age is a myth and beauty is a state of mind. I like that.

Faded roses? No. May I grow old gracefully, forever blooming where I am planted, one petal at a time.