A Time to Heal

hold on to the promise of freedom that tomorrow morning brings.

It’s spring. I can’t tell you how happy I am to see the daffodils and daisies awakening to the morning sun. Colorful lilies are frequenting the open fields and tulips are adorning the neighborhood gardens. What a wonderful display these lovely flowers put on for our enjoyment!

It’s easier for me to smile when I have glittering yellows and blues in my line of sight. My day is inevitably brighter when the warmth of the sun melts the frost from my wintry pale soul. Longer days make me jump with glee because it just means I get more time to spend outside in the healing rays. That’s what the sunshine is by the way. Healing. Oh, how I need some of that these days. My winter was harsher than years past due to a family tragedy and my heart hasn’t had the chance to really recover just yet.

Recovery. That goes right along with healing, doesn’t it? Maybe the welcoming smile of the cumulus clouds above are inviting me into a new space. A sunny place. One where I can run and play as I did when I was young. How I miss the ease of childhood, the naivety that youth brings, the fresh discovery that lingered in the air of my early years.

I want to be there again. Before life became wrought with trauma and pain. But I can’t go back. None of us can ever go back. We have to live with that truth. The funny thing about truth, though, is that in a strange and unguarded way,  it sets you free. Even when we don’t realize it, acceptance of the simple things that have always been and will always be, liberates the hurt right out of us.

Take the earth beneath our feet. It may be wet with dew or dry with cracks, but it’s still there for us to walk on. And it always will be. Those bulbs of spring that are awakening to new life after a long slumber in the dark can be counted on to make an appearance every year. Sure, a late frost might threaten their blooms but even so, they can be replanted, reborn.

Reborn. Another one of those words that brings comfort to my nostalgic heart. The pure simplicity of starting over in a world that is constantly on the edge of disaster makes me hopeful for the new.

Sing loud and strong, springtime song.

I have been in the frigid dark for way too long.

So I open my eyes and squint at the sun. I let the truth whisper through the wind that my time for renewal has arrived. And I hold on to the promise of freedom that tomorrow morning brings.

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Laugh Along With Me…at Me.

I am a very reasonable person. This is what I tell myself on a daily basis. Especially when I do something that looks, well, questionable. 🙂

For example, just yesterday, my new favorite song came on the radio and I found myself (to the shock and horror of my seven year old daughter) twerking in the kitchen. I mean, how can you not get down to this song?

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know that the video is a little racy so just shield your eyes if it offends you. BUT I can’t hear this song and not jam out a bit. At first, it was the beat- catchy and fun. Easy to dance to, right? (And did I mention that I LOVE Meghan Trainor?)

Then I started paying attention to the lyrics and I thought to myself, I love this song even more now. Where was it when I was in college and living the single life? 

Oh girls, it would have probably changed some things for me. Like I may have focused a little bit more on me and my self worth instead of on every Tom, Dick, and Harry that gave me a wink.

So, yeah, I’m over here all twerking in the kitchen to this woman power song and I don’t feel guilty about the fact that my little girl is watching this hilarious and slightly off-putting scene take place. In fact, I invite her to join in the dance party with me.

Because I want her to know that she can say NO. That it’s ok to be ok with being single. That no boy is ever as important as her inherent self-worth and infinite value. 

She just laughed at my awkward display of dance moves (that, frankly, I learned from zumba class) and then she jumped right on in.

And, together, we danced for women everywhere.

Happy Mother's Day

Lift Up Your Head

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What are you looking at? Are your eyes focused on the ground beneath your feet? Is your view darkened by your own grey shadow? Have you closed your eyes to preserve them only to lose sight of where you’re going?

Friend, look up. The sky above beckons you to feel the warmth of the sun. The crystal blue is brighter when you’re seeing it for the first time after experiencing the pain of it’s absence. The birds of the air flitter by in hopes that you will notice their morning song.

Don’t let the comfort of your limited view keep you from the spacious life waiting for you.

“We throw open our doors to God and discover at the same moment that he has already thrown open his door to us. We find ourselves standing where we always hoped we might stand—out in the wide open spaces of God’s grace and glory, standing tall and shouting our praise.”
Romans 5:2 (MSG) 
photo credit: Ruta 40 Rio Quimivil via photopin (license)

It Takes Guts To Be You

photo credit: Iria 02 via photopin (license)
photo credit: Iria 02 via photopin(license)

I went grocery shopping today with my two year old. This is not an easy endeavor. Bringing a toddler along on any shopping trip is always an adventure.

The store was packed. Everyone was in a hurry. But my little Cutie Pie just couldn’t resist the opportunity to sing at the top of her lungs. Right there in the middle of aisle 4.

She sang loud. She sang proud. She wasn’t afraid. She simply owned her song. And it occurred to me that she was demonstrating a confident courage that most of us look for but never find.

All I know is….we all want it.

She was a musical picture of unashamedly being who God made her to be. Did you catch that?

She didn’t apologize for her gift. She simply owned her song.

Not a single person’s turned up nose or applause was going to affect her. And both reactions occurred. But she kept on singing.

I felt like I could both laugh and cry as I witnessed this 5 minute event. The audacity it took to stand up in her cart and belt out her favorite tune. Talk about guts.

But isn’t having guts what it’s all about? In the grand scheme of things, I don’t want to be the person that shy’s away from the opportunity to share my gifts. I want to be the person who owns the moment and sings MY song!

As I watched her sing, I realized something. She was singing for me. Her mama. She was looking right at me with a twinkle in her eye.

She didn’t even notice the others. If they sneered, she didn’t see it. If they smiled, she had no idea. She was looking at me and love was oozing from her heart and hanging onto every word she sang.

What a picture. Can you see it?

GUTS. The gooey stuff inside of us that comes out in moments of transparency. The stuff that gives you the oomph you need to take that next step and go for it. The incomparable nerve that fuels your unveiled self.

How do we own our song? How do we have the guts to share with the world the real person that is inside of us?

Just look at your Maker. Hold His gaze and never look away. He’s already looking at you with a joy that brings a tear to His eyes.