Why do their little faces look so pale?
Why are they bent over as if they are trying to catch their breath?
The heat and the wind.
That's my plants excuse for everything. Personally, I hate both of them too, yet somehow the plants and I must endure to live in Oklahoma. Sure, I could move...but my Okie husband and Okie son would probably miss me. Surely, they would miss my complaints about the heat and the wind...
So I come home today to see all my little baby plants suffering from the horrendous conditions. I am so consumed by their plight that I can't even sit and relax after a grueling day at work (okay, not so grueling, but I was, "on duty" which means I was away from home.) All I can do now is frantically drag hoses around the yard to spray the wilting, pathetic flowers with water and curse the heat and drought.
Would it be wrong of me to call in sick tomorrow so I can stay home and water?
Monday, June 27, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
In All Things...
I look across the living room at my 16-year-old sitting on the couch and wonder what my life would be like without him. I can not imagine it...I turn my attention back to a sobbing daddy on the television telling rescuers how much he appreciated them tirelessly searching for his missing three-year-old son. His, "Little Buddy," was found, but there was no life left in him. The tornado that demolished his house, killed his 16-month-old little brother and critically injured his mother and sister...had claimed another tiny soul...I feel so angry, I want to question God and ask why horrible things happen to good people, but instead...my heart can only praise Him for His goodness and protection...for me...and my baby.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
At therapy today, I shook the hand of a dead man...
I'm undergoing hand therapy after finger and wrist surgery. There are days when I feel sorry for myself for always getting banged up or broken. There are so many things that I can not do anymore because of all of my injuries. I try to stay positive and tell myself that there must be a reason God has allowed me to go through all the things that have hurt me, but I'd be lying if I told you that I don't ever get down...that I don't ever cry.
When I am feeling that way, I try to stay home. Away from friends, family...any peering eyes that can detect my weakness. I don't want to be discouraged, but sometimes...I am.
Imagine my shame then when a man comes in to therapy with a brilliant smile on his face and a dead man's hands on the end of his arms. He is the recipient of a double hand transplant and he is the most amazing person I have ever met. After being severely burned and nearly dying, he lost the use of his hands and chose to undergo a risky transplant, never done before.
He gives God the glory for saving his life and for giving him his new hands. As he holds a hand out for me to shake, I look up into his eyes and take his hand into mine. I've told him what an inspiration he is to me, but as I feel his fingers close around my own, a tightness forms in my chest. My throat burns as I choke back tears and return his smile when he says, "Man! It feels good to do that."
I have learned that to give God the praise in every little thing that I CAN do, is all He wants me from me today.
When I am feeling that way, I try to stay home. Away from friends, family...any peering eyes that can detect my weakness. I don't want to be discouraged, but sometimes...I am.
Imagine my shame then when a man comes in to therapy with a brilliant smile on his face and a dead man's hands on the end of his arms. He is the recipient of a double hand transplant and he is the most amazing person I have ever met. After being severely burned and nearly dying, he lost the use of his hands and chose to undergo a risky transplant, never done before.
He gives God the glory for saving his life and for giving him his new hands. As he holds a hand out for me to shake, I look up into his eyes and take his hand into mine. I've told him what an inspiration he is to me, but as I feel his fingers close around my own, a tightness forms in my chest. My throat burns as I choke back tears and return his smile when he says, "Man! It feels good to do that."
I have learned that to give God the praise in every little thing that I CAN do, is all He wants me from me today.
Monday, May 2, 2011
What? Me, Scared?
Her ear piercing scream stopped me in my tracks. She had my attention and I dared not move an inch. I held my breath and froze, trying to decide how to escape unharmed.
I had seen the little family huddling together for warmth earlier in the day. I'll admit that I waited until the fussy mother had wandered off before I ventured over to see the triplets close up.
Their mother and father never got too far from them. It's not like I meant to do them harm. I just wanted to see their little faces and coo to them. I'm a mother too after all, I reasoned. I saw their red-headed dad across the way, "You are gorgeous!" I mouthed to him. He acted like he didn't understand. It was cheap flattery, I'll admit, but I'm a shameless flirt.
As I looked from one sibling to the next, I was amazed at their tiny, perfect features. "Aren't you just the sweetest things?" I asked them, not expecting a response. I got one however. In the form of one very angry momma. She let me know in no uncertain terms that I had better move away from her offspring without delay. She screeched, and screamed and laid down the law in a way that only a mother could.
I tried to explain, to compliment her on her babies, to praise her rearing abilities, but she would hear none of it. She raised her voice, so I raised my hands in defeat and bowed slightly as I backed away slowly from the silent, but wide-eyed little ones. My heart was racing, my breathing quick and shallow, she had convinced me that she would do anything to protect her young. She may have only been a bird, a cardinal no less, but a mother in every sense of the word.
A mother's love can't be explained with fancy words or rhymes
it's something supernatural and it's there for all times.
A mother's love goes beyond a certain parental bond,
it's like a raging river, yet serene as a still pond.
It's boundaries are endless and it's functions are too,
a mother's love are the arms that scold while cradling you...Happy Mother's Day!
I had seen the little family huddling together for warmth earlier in the day. I'll admit that I waited until the fussy mother had wandered off before I ventured over to see the triplets close up.
Their mother and father never got too far from them. It's not like I meant to do them harm. I just wanted to see their little faces and coo to them. I'm a mother too after all, I reasoned. I saw their red-headed dad across the way, "You are gorgeous!" I mouthed to him. He acted like he didn't understand. It was cheap flattery, I'll admit, but I'm a shameless flirt.
As I looked from one sibling to the next, I was amazed at their tiny, perfect features. "Aren't you just the sweetest things?" I asked them, not expecting a response. I got one however. In the form of one very angry momma. She let me know in no uncertain terms that I had better move away from her offspring without delay. She screeched, and screamed and laid down the law in a way that only a mother could.
I tried to explain, to compliment her on her babies, to praise her rearing abilities, but she would hear none of it. She raised her voice, so I raised my hands in defeat and bowed slightly as I backed away slowly from the silent, but wide-eyed little ones. My heart was racing, my breathing quick and shallow, she had convinced me that she would do anything to protect her young. She may have only been a bird, a cardinal no less, but a mother in every sense of the word.
A mother's love can't be explained with fancy words or rhymes
it's something supernatural and it's there for all times.
A mother's love goes beyond a certain parental bond,
it's like a raging river, yet serene as a still pond.
It's boundaries are endless and it's functions are too,
a mother's love are the arms that scold while cradling you...Happy Mother's Day!
Friday, April 22, 2011
Dangerous Duties
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Spring Renewal
As I walk through the gardens and see tiny buds swelling on tree limbs or a bulb pushing green fleshy growth through the soil, I become pensive and reflect on myself as a micro-member of the universe.
It seems improbable to me that anyone would consider the gift of life...in any form...as anything other than preordained and preplanned by a supreme being so much greater than anything we could imagine. How could any thing that exists in our universe be here by the colliding or gases or the evolution of one organism or another?
It simply isn't possible.
There is a creator of everything. His name is God.
What's amazing to me is that He created everything we as human beings need to survive on planet earth. Every plant has a purpose. Plants feed, clothe, medicate, color, decorate and oxygenate our world and individual lives.
Relish the renewal of spring, but don't miss the forest for the trees. Nothing and no one is here by happenstance...
It seems improbable to me that anyone would consider the gift of life...in any form...as anything other than preordained and preplanned by a supreme being so much greater than anything we could imagine. How could any thing that exists in our universe be here by the colliding or gases or the evolution of one organism or another?
It simply isn't possible.
There is a creator of everything. His name is God.
What's amazing to me is that He created everything we as human beings need to survive on planet earth. Every plant has a purpose. Plants feed, clothe, medicate, color, decorate and oxygenate our world and individual lives.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Time Heals All Wounds
Or so the saying goes...if that's the case, then why do tears form in the corner of ones eyes when thinking of a deceased loved one? Why does ones throat constrict at the mention of a lost love? Why do injuries and scars never really leave your memory lonely?
My theory is that any wound, be it emotional, physical or spiritual leaves an indelible mark one's person as a whole. These marks make us who we are, how we view ourselves, how we view others. I believe that to navigate life without any wounds is to not live at all. For what kind of life would you have if you never experienced the pain of loving, then losing someone? How would you know what joy was if you never experienced sorrow?
I think it more accurate to say, "Time eases the pain of our wounds." Isn't that what we truly want? Our pain just to ease? That's what I want. I choose the pain of loss, remembering the love that I experienced. I choose the pain of failure, remembering the valiant fight.
I'll keep my scars and gladly display them because they prove to me and anyone who cares to see them, that I have lived.
My theory is that any wound, be it emotional, physical or spiritual leaves an indelible mark one's person as a whole. These marks make us who we are, how we view ourselves, how we view others. I believe that to navigate life without any wounds is to not live at all. For what kind of life would you have if you never experienced the pain of loving, then losing someone? How would you know what joy was if you never experienced sorrow?
I think it more accurate to say, "Time eases the pain of our wounds." Isn't that what we truly want? Our pain just to ease? That's what I want. I choose the pain of loss, remembering the love that I experienced. I choose the pain of failure, remembering the valiant fight.
I'll keep my scars and gladly display them because they prove to me and anyone who cares to see them, that I have lived.
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