Thirty-three years ago his hand reached across the table and took mine and my heart fell into his. We began a long and beautiful dance that has had many varied, surprising and unfettered steps.
Our hearts have grown together so closely that any attempt to separate them would cause both parties to, as Charlotte Bronte's Mr Rochester describes, "bleed inwardly".
We are totally different and totally alike. We are like a hand and glove and yet like a knife and it's sharpening steel. We make each other better, give each other purpose, add strength and balance to the other's talents. We temper and smooth the other's weaknesses.
What a blessing from the Lord to have been united with someone who so perfectly completes and compliments who and what I am. What a joy that after thirty-three years I can say he is even more my best friend today than he has ever been.
Thank you, honey!
. . .an extension of the Orange Moon Cafe
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
A Mother's Heart in War . . . Day 140, October 24, 2004
The Friday entries of "The Powder Room" are currently from a journal which I started when
we found out our son was going to be deployed with the United States Marine Corps to Iraq. The journal was not written with the intention that it would ever be read by anyone else, much less published in any way. There are feelings in the journal that are deep and true and I wasn't sure at first I wanted to share them. But there are many sons and daughters still serving in our armed forces and I think it might be good to share "a mother's heart" with you what those other mothers may be facing. The entries are shared as a tribute to my son and his service to our country, and to all those sons and daughters who continue to willingly place themselves in harm's way for the protection and preservation of liberty.
Day 140, October 24, 2004
The very beginning of the Christmas season is in the air. Decorations line the shelves of the stores, supplies for holiday baking have appeared at the grocery store and Emmie is deciding what to give everyone.
Usually this brightens my mood and lifts my spirits. . .but not this year.
I haven't actually dreaded a holiday season since Momma died, but that is exactly how I feel this year. Well, not exactly. The year Momma died, I knew she was in an infinitely more wonderful place and wouldn't have brought her back for even a second. My thoughts, too, were centered around my children and how I could possibly fill the void that the passing of Grandma Dot had left.
This year I feel sad because Noah won't be with us for the holidays, but it is so much more than that -- it is because Noah won't be with us for the holidays, and that is something very different. He is not in an infinitely more wonderful place and I would bring him back at the drop of a hat if I could. No, he is in an infinitely worse place and somewhat like that Christmas in 1997, I am unable to fill the void, unable to make it better.
So when my mind rushes ahead to contemplate the holiday celebrations, I know that part of my heart is on the other side of the world.
As that mythical green creature tries to remind us each year: "It came without ribbons! It came without tags! It came without packages, boxes or bags!" His realization in the snow is something we know in our heart all year through: "Maybe Christmas, doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas. . perhaps. . . means a little bit more!"
May this Christmas for Noah -- so unlike any other he has ever known -- draw him so close to the King in the manger -- may the Star of Bethlehem so light his heart -- that he will proclaim this to be his most wonderful, merriest Christmas ever.
And may he have. . .
. . .a "merry little Christmas now."
(I used to sing "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" to my children at night before they went to sleep.)
we found out our son was going to be deployed with the United States Marine Corps to Iraq. The journal was not written with the intention that it would ever be read by anyone else, much less published in any way. There are feelings in the journal that are deep and true and I wasn't sure at first I wanted to share them. But there are many sons and daughters still serving in our armed forces and I think it might be good to share "a mother's heart" with you what those other mothers may be facing. The entries are shared as a tribute to my son and his service to our country, and to all those sons and daughters who continue to willingly place themselves in harm's way for the protection and preservation of liberty.Day 140, October 24, 2004
The very beginning of the Christmas season is in the air. Decorations line the shelves of the stores, supplies for holiday baking have appeared at the grocery store and Emmie is deciding what to give everyone.
Usually this brightens my mood and lifts my spirits. . .but not this year.
I haven't actually dreaded a holiday season since Momma died, but that is exactly how I feel this year. Well, not exactly. The year Momma died, I knew she was in an infinitely more wonderful place and wouldn't have brought her back for even a second. My thoughts, too, were centered around my children and how I could possibly fill the void that the passing of Grandma Dot had left.
This year I feel sad because Noah won't be with us for the holidays, but it is so much more than that -- it is because Noah won't be with us for the holidays, and that is something very different. He is not in an infinitely more wonderful place and I would bring him back at the drop of a hat if I could. No, he is in an infinitely worse place and somewhat like that Christmas in 1997, I am unable to fill the void, unable to make it better.
So when my mind rushes ahead to contemplate the holiday celebrations, I know that part of my heart is on the other side of the world.
As that mythical green creature tries to remind us each year: "It came without ribbons! It came without tags! It came without packages, boxes or bags!" His realization in the snow is something we know in our heart all year through: "Maybe Christmas, doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas. . perhaps. . . means a little bit more!"
May this Christmas for Noah -- so unlike any other he has ever known -- draw him so close to the King in the manger -- may the Star of Bethlehem so light his heart -- that he will proclaim this to be his most wonderful, merriest Christmas ever.
And may he have. . .
. . .a "merry little Christmas now."
(I used to sing "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" to my children at night before they went to sleep.)
Saturday, January 9, 2010
The Markers in my Pocket
At work each day I print out an updated copy of the next few days scheduled cases. Each type of case is highlighted in a different color highlighter so we can tell at a glance what type of patients will be arriving that day.
On Christmas Eve, I had put all these markers in my work bag and forgotten I had moved them. When I ran across them days later, I put them all in the pocket of my lab coat so they would be handy when I went to work. The only problem is that I forgot I had put them there. (Do you see a trend here?)
I looked everywhere for the markers. I looked in my work bag. I looked in every desk drawer. I looked to see if we had other markers, but didn't find anything that worked as well as the ones I had before.
All the time, the markers were tucked away in the pocket of the jacket I was wearing, just waiting for me to pull them out and use them.
"And it shall come to pass, that before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear." Isaiah 65:24
"Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." Hebrews 11:1
The markers were there, in my pocket, already provided for my use, but I did not believe they were there. I didn't reach into my pocket to remove them, I didn't even look in there to see if they were there. I didn't avail myself of the provision that was already made for me in my moment of need.
How many more times in my life has that happened and didn't know it?
How many times has the Lord been the great supply of my life and I never even "looked in my pocket" to see what was there. I just kept looking at the need and never turned my eyes toward the supply.
"But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:19
The Lord has promised to supply all our needs by Christ Jesus. We must train our eyes to not be focused on the need, but He who is and always be our supply in all things. . .
"Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God." Hebrews 12:2
Image by NinJA999 via Flickr
On Christmas Eve, I had put all these markers in my work bag and forgotten I had moved them. When I ran across them days later, I put them all in the pocket of my lab coat so they would be handy when I went to work. The only problem is that I forgot I had put them there. (Do you see a trend here?)
I looked everywhere for the markers. I looked in my work bag. I looked in every desk drawer. I looked to see if we had other markers, but didn't find anything that worked as well as the ones I had before.
All the time, the markers were tucked away in the pocket of the jacket I was wearing, just waiting for me to pull them out and use them.
"And it shall come to pass, that before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear." Isaiah 65:24
"Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." Hebrews 11:1
The markers were there, in my pocket, already provided for my use, but I did not believe they were there. I didn't reach into my pocket to remove them, I didn't even look in there to see if they were there. I didn't avail myself of the provision that was already made for me in my moment of need.
How many more times in my life has that happened and didn't know it?
How many times has the Lord been the great supply of my life and I never even "looked in my pocket" to see what was there. I just kept looking at the need and never turned my eyes toward the supply.
"But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:19
The Lord has promised to supply all our needs by Christ Jesus. We must train our eyes to not be focused on the need, but He who is and always be our supply in all things. . .
"Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God." Hebrews 12:2
Friday, January 8, 2010
A Mother's Heart in War . . . Day 88, September 2, 2004
The Friday entries of "The Powder Room" are currently from a journal which I started when we found out our son was going to be deployed with the United States Marine Corps to Iraq. The journal was not written with the intention that it would ever be read by anyone else, much less published in any way. There are feelings in the journal that are deep and true and I wasn't sure at first I wanted to share them. But there are many sons and daughters still serving in our armed forces and I think it might be good to share "a mother's heart" with you what those other mothers may be facing. The entries are shared as a tribute to my son and his service to our country, and to all those sons and daughters who continue to willingly place themselves in harm's way for the protection and preservation of liberty.
Day 88, September 2, 2004
Written on the card:
we found out our son was going to be deployed with the United States Marine Corps to Iraq. The journal was not written with the intention that it would ever be read by anyone else, much less published in any way. There are feelings in the journal that are deep and true and I wasn't sure at first I wanted to share them. But there are many sons and daughters still serving in our armed forces and I think it might be good to share "a mother's heart" with you what those other mothers may be facing. The entries are shared as a tribute to my son and his service to our country, and to all those sons and daughters who continue to willingly place themselves in harm's way for the protection and preservation of liberty.
Image via Wikipedia
Day 88, September 2, 2004
Written on the card:
Happy Birthday Mom.
I love you.
Corporal Noah Davis
I love you.
Corporal Noah Davis
What a wonderful way to hear the news of Noah's promotion, flowers on my birthday!
I hadn't expected to hear from him at all but when Glen brought the flowers - with a teddy bear wearing a birthday cake as a hat -- I knew they must have been from someone who knew me well. As I read the card, my first reaction was to cry. My son on the other side of the world, fighting a war, remembered my birthday! Then I actually read the signature, Corporal Noah Davis. It was like a present on top of a present!
Then to talk to him later in the day was best of all. Each time he calls it is like a confirmation that the Lord is keeping him safe. And it is a miracle of modern technology that we could talk at all.
It is strange but I am less tempted to fear now than I was before. When Noah said that the enemy was firing mortar rounds at their base all the time, I was strangely comforted, because he also said the mortars were not hitting them. While Noah may attribute that to poor marksmanship, I attribute that to the mountains full of "chariots of fire" -- those angels encamped around that base protecting the 7th platoon.
It reminds me of the verse, "A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee. " That is my prayer for Noah: "it shall not come nigh thee."
I hadn't expected to hear from him at all but when Glen brought the flowers - with a teddy bear wearing a birthday cake as a hat -- I knew they must have been from someone who knew me well. As I read the card, my first reaction was to cry. My son on the other side of the world, fighting a war, remembered my birthday! Then I actually read the signature, Corporal Noah Davis. It was like a present on top of a present!
Then to talk to him later in the day was best of all. Each time he calls it is like a confirmation that the Lord is keeping him safe. And it is a miracle of modern technology that we could talk at all.
It is strange but I am less tempted to fear now than I was before. When Noah said that the enemy was firing mortar rounds at their base all the time, I was strangely comforted, because he also said the mortars were not hitting them. While Noah may attribute that to poor marksmanship, I attribute that to the mountains full of "chariots of fire" -- those angels encamped around that base protecting the 7th platoon.
It reminds me of the verse, "A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee. " That is my prayer for Noah: "it shall not come nigh thee."
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