The Pink Shirt

A long long time ago, in what seems like a whole different galaxy and a whole lifetime ago, my daughter bought me, with her own money and not on my birthday or Mother's Day or Christmas, a cute pink shirt. Because she thought I would like it. and I did.

Then the whole world kinda fell aprt...and she left...and she hated us...and betrayed us...and I hid that shirt where I didn't think I would find it. Some time later, I came across it. And the pain was fierce. I came very close to throwing it away.

But I didn't. Now it is in the very back of my closet, reminding me of who she used to be, who she will be again someday. I have to trust.

Sometimes that shirt mocks me. Some times it gently chides me. But sometime I will wear it again.

The Girl Who...

                                         I Miss the girl:

                                        the girl who used to find happiness with her family...

the girl who lived life on the edge

                          the girl who had so many dreams and plans and so much to do 

                              that she didn't expect to get married for a long, long time....

                                                            the girl who liked to cook...

                                       the girl who was "peanut-butter" to Rachel's "jelly"...

                                                            (Rachel misses her, too)

                                                  the girl who liked to visit this place...

                                                      the girl who loved her siblings...

                                                      the girl who played the guitar...

                                      

the girl who loved her perfume bottles and pearls...

the girl who liked to write on her arm and shoot a gun...

 the girl who was so dramatic...in shows and real life

                                      the girl who had so much fun wearing these shoes...

                                                         the girl her siblings miss...

                                                     the girl who didn't say goodbye...

Ugly

It was ugly--raw, brutal, gut wrenching sobs--the words  "I miss her so much" burst out, unbidden and unexpected...

Yet beautiful. He held me--his tears joined mine. No words, just his arms around me.

No accusations tossed back and forth. No heated discussions about perceived failures.

Just two wounded souls who found each other...at least for this moment in time.

Two parents who are learning they are not responsible before God for the choices made by their child.


Two people trying to figure out alot of things:
--how to set boundaries, yet reach out to her
--how to protect younger siblings from bad influences, yet have a relationship with her
--how to love her, yet protect their own hearts

Two people who need to learn:
--how to talk to each other without rubbing salt into tender places
--how to discuss hard things without blame or sarcasm or hidden agendas
--how to be gentle with each other

Motherhood

Motherhood is a choice you make everyday,
to put someone else's happiness and well-being ahead of your own,
to teach the hard lessons,
to do the right thing even though you're not sure what the right thing is,
and to forgive yourself over and over again for doing everything wrong.

Donna Bell

The Hardest Work of All

Never think for a moment that waiting is idle. 

Sometimes we do no harder work in our lives than the work of 

         "waiting"

         "being still"

         "sitting back"

and letting the Holy Spirit work.

It is a totally active time of choosing to trust God's perfect timing.

~ Beth Moore

Cowboy Theology

Texas of course is famous for its cowboys, and some of those rough riders are pretty smart fellas. Some even have better theology than some professors and preachers I know.

I heard the story of a cowboy who applied for health insurance. As the agent was making his way through a marathon list of questions, he asked the cowboy, “Have you had any accidents?”

The cowboy replied “No, none at all. I was bitten last year by a rattlesnake and a horse kicked me in the ribs. That did lay me up for awhile.”

The agent responded with a confused look on his fact, “Wouldn’t you call those accidents?”

“Why no,” said the cowboy, “They both did it on purpose!”

(I don't know who wrote this--if you do, please share. I would like to be able to credit the author!)

Wait

by Russell Kelfer

Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried;

Quietly, patiently, lovingly, God replied. 

I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate . . . 

And the Master so gently said, "Wait."

"Wait? you say wait?" my indignant reply.
"Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!
Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?
By faith I have asked, and I'm claiming your Word."

"My future and all to which I relate
Hangs in the balance, and you tell me to wait?
I'm needing a 'yes', a go-ahead sign,
Or even a 'no' to which I can resign."

"You promised, dear Lord, that if we believe,
We need but to ask, and we shall receive.
And Lord I've been asking, and this is my cry:
I'm weary of asking! I need a reply."

Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate,
As my Master replied again, "Wait."
So I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut,
And grumbled to God, "So, I'm waiting for what?"

He seemed then to kneel, and His eyes met with mine . . .
and He tenderly said, "I could give you a sign.
I could shake the heavens and darken the sun.
I could raise the dead and cause mountains to run."

"I could give all you seek and pleased you would be.
You'd have what you want, but you wouldn't know Me.

You'd not know the depth of my love for each saint.
You'd not know the power that I give to the faint."

"You'd not learn to see through clouds of despair;
You'd not learn to trust just by knowing I'm there.
You'd not know the joy of resting in Me
When darkness and silence are all you can see."

"You'd never experience the fullness of love
When the peace of My spirit descends like a dove.
You would know that I give, and I save, for a start,
But you'd not know the depth of the beat of My heart."

"The glow of my comfort late into the night,
The faith that I give when you walk without sight.
The depth that's beyond getting just what you ask
From an infinite God who makes what you have last."

"You'd never know, should your pain quickly flee,
What it means that My grace is sufficient for thee.
Yes, your dearest dreams overnight would come true,
But, oh, the loss, if you missed what I'm doing in you."

"So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see
That the greatest of gifts is to truly know me.
And though oft My answers seem terribly late,
My most precious answer of all is still . . . Wait."

"You'd have what you want but you wouldn't know Me..."