as my sister, toni, and i got in her car and drove away from oakdale, she said, "i'm tired. this day feels like it began a long time ago." i thought about the weight of her words and responded, "it did, it began 26 years ago when mike became our dad."
the day caused us to revisit our childhood. together. which is much better than doing it alone. it is lonely to go there alone.
we attended mike's memorial service. we were recognized in his obituary and eulogy as step-daughters. we were included in the photo collage. we were recognized and embraced by family and friends. childhood stories were told and delighted in.
after the service we drove through our childhood. down the streets, past the many homes, and memories. together. it was important. we've both done it alone, but never together. and we extended grace to the other for how they experienced that time. it was good. healing. necessary.
our drive took us past the home of "dad" #6, larry. he was home. we wondered if it would be too much for this day, to stop by, but curiosity got the best of us. he was delighted to see us. just hearing his voice and seeing his face was a piece of home to me (my memory of home is a puzzle of pieces).
as larry introduced us to his new girlfriend he proudly announced, "these were my girls."
in the previous post i quoted beth moore, who says, "you can't amputate your history from your destiny." she says, "God wants to redeem your history."
redemption happened yesterday.
when the relationships with the "dads" ended, there was never explanation or conversation between the adults and my sister and i. the adults moved on, and we were required to move on too.
sadly this lack of consideration for the tender hearts of two little girls left a lot of room for lies to move in. i have believed all these years that i (we) was irrelevant, not wanted, and of no worth to the men who were dads (this of course has carried over into other areas of my life. i battle this lie daily).
but at mike's service our relevance to his life was shared.
and when larry introduced us as his girls that too spoke of our value.
the lie i've believed was being rewritten into truth.
God is redeeming, rewriting my story.
and i ask myself. 'why am i sharing this with you?'
and this is why...GOD.
look at me.
do you see HIM?
do you see God?
Oh, how i long for you to.
God has saved my life.
and given me LIFE.
i am a God miracle.
i feel like the crippled beggar (Acts 3) who was placed at the temple gate (called Beautiful) everyday. he begged for $ (for provision) but in Jesus he found what his heart really longed for, The Healer.
The scripture goes on to say that after his healing he went into the "temple court, walking and jumping and praising God."
do you see me? i am walking and jumping and praising God!
john 3:16 says, "for God SO LOVED the world, He gave His only son, that whoever believes in Him will not die, BUT have everlasting life."
i live in that love!
i live that everlasting life!
and i only LIVE because God saved my life.
as we drove away from oakdale, toni said, "it's crazy. we have 7 dads."
"it is crazy, so crazy!" i responded. "but it's also wonderful. we have loved and been loved by many."
Thank you God for healing the crazy and making it wonderful.
May God heal the crazy in your life. redeem your history. rewrite it. make it wonderful,
and be glorified.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
7
i usually crack jokes about it.
i don't know why i do this.
i think because it's such an uncomfortable thing to say, and i imagine an uncomfortable thing to hear.
so i crack jokes.
and when i do the other party laughs.
and that uncomfortable feeling-sorry-for-me moment seems gone.
but today i'm not going to joke about it.
beth moore says, " you can't amputate your history from your destiny." she is right. i've tried to sever limbs from my story, but God doesn't allow it (how i've wished he would). However, He causes me to live with my wounded limbs- my wounded history.
He wants to, and He does, REDEEM it.
so here it goes...
i've had 7 dads.
(long awkward pause)
joe- is my birth dad. he didn't claim me as his daughter until last year. he was a drug user for 25+ years. he is lives in a state hospital, he is paranoid schizophrenic.
he taught me how to throw a frisbee. he bought me my first car -it was a yellow convertible with pedals. he ducked taped it back together when it fell apart. he liked working on cars.
kenny (k-2nd)- was my first step-dad. i called him daddy. had his last name. he introduced me to jesus. made me a teeter-totter. he put a swing in the tree of our front yard. he'd push me so high my toes reached heaven. after he and my mom divorced he took my sister and i to columbia state park. that day meant a lot to me (columbia is still one of my favorite places to visit). i found a large fools gold rock with him that day. it is 28 years later and i still have that big rock.
manny (3-5th)- my mother was engaged to him. he was a quiet man. kind. he played guitar. he'd sit by my bed side at bedtime with his guitar and sing a song he wrote. i don't remember much else about manny, but this is a lovely thing to remember.
mike (5th-8th)- i called him dad. had his last name. he loved sports. taught me how to throw a football. coached my softball team. took my sister and i to the park, and made us learn how to slide into home base. he was a hard worker. had a lively family. he got us a basset hound, his name was mork. mike smelled like cocoa beans (he worked at the hershey factory).
tim (8th to Jr. year)- he was engaged to my mom. he never tried to be my dad. i liked that. he was a dreamer. he talked to me, listened, cared. once, i showed him a picture of a loft bed in a magazine, he surprised me by making that bed for me (he didn't sand it. he didn't measure the space between the mattress and the ceiling. i'd have to shimmy up the wall to get into bed, then lay flat on my back with my nose to the ceiling. this still makes me laugh). tim still calls me twice a year. he calls on my birthday in the fall, and again in the spring. it means a lot to me that he kept his commitment to be a part of my life.
larry (Jr. year -19)- my mom married him my jr. year of high school. he was stable. had a jolly laugh. he was a hard worker. he too didn't try to be my dad ( a good thing). he provided us with a beautiful home. he liked and built cars. my 65 ford falcon looked good parked next to his 34 ford cabriolet. we had a bartering system-he'd fix my car, and i'd pay by mowing the lawn.
steve (20-present)- hard worker. calls me "kiddo," loves and delights in my kids. i like to watch him worship.
i've had 7 dads.
i can't amputate them from my story.
there is much ache as a result of having seven dads that i have not shared.
just having 7 dads come and go brings enough ache of it's own.
i love each of them.
and i have mourned the loss of each of them.
this weekend i will go to a memorial service and mourn the loss of one of them again, mike passed away.
BUT
there is daddy whose loss i will never mourn.
God is the "Everlasting Father" (Isaiah 9:6)
a Father who will "never leave me or forsake me."
His love is unconditional and immeasurable!
He rewrites my story, redeems my life, and tells a better story.
and I LOVE HIM!
i don't know why i do this.
i think because it's such an uncomfortable thing to say, and i imagine an uncomfortable thing to hear.
so i crack jokes.
and when i do the other party laughs.
and that uncomfortable feeling-sorry-for-me moment seems gone.
but today i'm not going to joke about it.
beth moore says, " you can't amputate your history from your destiny." she is right. i've tried to sever limbs from my story, but God doesn't allow it (how i've wished he would). However, He causes me to live with my wounded limbs- my wounded history.
He wants to, and He does, REDEEM it.
so here it goes...
i've had 7 dads.
(long awkward pause)
joe- is my birth dad. he didn't claim me as his daughter until last year. he was a drug user for 25+ years. he is lives in a state hospital, he is paranoid schizophrenic.
he taught me how to throw a frisbee. he bought me my first car -it was a yellow convertible with pedals. he ducked taped it back together when it fell apart. he liked working on cars.
kenny (k-2nd)- was my first step-dad. i called him daddy. had his last name. he introduced me to jesus. made me a teeter-totter. he put a swing in the tree of our front yard. he'd push me so high my toes reached heaven. after he and my mom divorced he took my sister and i to columbia state park. that day meant a lot to me (columbia is still one of my favorite places to visit). i found a large fools gold rock with him that day. it is 28 years later and i still have that big rock.
manny (3-5th)- my mother was engaged to him. he was a quiet man. kind. he played guitar. he'd sit by my bed side at bedtime with his guitar and sing a song he wrote. i don't remember much else about manny, but this is a lovely thing to remember.
mike (5th-8th)- i called him dad. had his last name. he loved sports. taught me how to throw a football. coached my softball team. took my sister and i to the park, and made us learn how to slide into home base. he was a hard worker. had a lively family. he got us a basset hound, his name was mork. mike smelled like cocoa beans (he worked at the hershey factory).
tim (8th to Jr. year)- he was engaged to my mom. he never tried to be my dad. i liked that. he was a dreamer. he talked to me, listened, cared. once, i showed him a picture of a loft bed in a magazine, he surprised me by making that bed for me (he didn't sand it. he didn't measure the space between the mattress and the ceiling. i'd have to shimmy up the wall to get into bed, then lay flat on my back with my nose to the ceiling. this still makes me laugh). tim still calls me twice a year. he calls on my birthday in the fall, and again in the spring. it means a lot to me that he kept his commitment to be a part of my life.
larry (Jr. year -19)- my mom married him my jr. year of high school. he was stable. had a jolly laugh. he was a hard worker. he too didn't try to be my dad ( a good thing). he provided us with a beautiful home. he liked and built cars. my 65 ford falcon looked good parked next to his 34 ford cabriolet. we had a bartering system-he'd fix my car, and i'd pay by mowing the lawn.
steve (20-present)- hard worker. calls me "kiddo," loves and delights in my kids. i like to watch him worship.
i've had 7 dads.
i can't amputate them from my story.
there is much ache as a result of having seven dads that i have not shared.
just having 7 dads come and go brings enough ache of it's own.
i love each of them.
and i have mourned the loss of each of them.
this weekend i will go to a memorial service and mourn the loss of one of them again, mike passed away.
BUT
there is daddy whose loss i will never mourn.
God is the "Everlasting Father" (Isaiah 9:6)
a Father who will "never leave me or forsake me."
His love is unconditional and immeasurable!
He rewrites my story, redeems my life, and tells a better story.
and I LOVE HIM!
Monday, March 8, 2010
baby love
tutorial links:
cloth baby blocks
paper bows
paper flowers
(i used magazine pages, and scrapbooking paper for my paper flowers. i also used twigs for the stem)
applique onsies
(i used fusible fabric underneath, lined the top fabric to it, then stitched the perimeter with a zig zag stitch)
Saturday, March 6, 2010
her baby
"she's moving," melanie said, and i quickly placed my hand on her belly.
and waited.
waited to feel her baby.
melanie's baby.
melanie, the 10 yr old i met 20 years ago.
the 10 yr old who grew up in front of me.
and along side me.
the baby of a girl who by God's design was never my friend, but my God-sister.
i waited to feel her roll.
sweet baby girl.
and with my hand on melanie's belly, i remembered.
20 years of sisterhood;
and baby rolled across the palm of my hand.
melanie's baby.
i couldn't keep the floodgates shut.
melanie's having a baby!
and i love her already.
because she is my melanie's baby.
proud daddy steve, "mel mel," baby (in the belly of course), me, and michael.
baby shower pix to follow!
and waited.
waited to feel her baby.
melanie's baby.
melanie, the 10 yr old i met 20 years ago.
the 10 yr old who grew up in front of me.
and along side me.
the baby of a girl who by God's design was never my friend, but my God-sister.
i waited to feel her roll.
sweet baby girl.
and with my hand on melanie's belly, i remembered.
20 years of sisterhood;
meeting
oakdale church of the nazarene
enthusiasm
church roof, laying under the steeple taking in the stars
hand-me-downs
mission trips
my first apartment
concerts
introducing her to michael
moving 2 hrs away
then her moving an ocean away
seeing her again on my wedding day
the penguin car
popcorn and kool-aid
driving her to meet her future (college)
not knowing that as i dropped her off my future was changing (noah)
christmas break, and my first baby belly
her wedding day
first homes/neighboring homes
coffee at her place
friendship that stands the test of time and grace
and the good bye hug.
enthusiasm
church roof, laying under the steeple taking in the stars
hand-me-downs
mission trips
my first apartment
concerts
introducing her to michael
moving 2 hrs away
then her moving an ocean away
seeing her again on my wedding day
the penguin car
popcorn and kool-aid
driving her to meet her future (college)
not knowing that as i dropped her off my future was changing (noah)
christmas break, and my first baby belly
her wedding day
first homes/neighboring homes
coffee at her place
friendship that stands the test of time and grace
and the good bye hug.
and baby rolled across the palm of my hand.
melanie's baby.
i couldn't keep the floodgates shut.
melanie's having a baby!
and i love her already.
because she is my melanie's baby.
proud daddy steve, "mel mel," baby (in the belly of course), me, and michael.
baby shower pix to follow!
Friday, March 5, 2010
handmade
i have spent most of this past week preparing for a baby shower i'm throwing this weekend.
i waited till close to the last minuet to make banners, paper flower bouquets, and to sew baby gifts.
today i'll clean, bake, and try to figure out how to fit 30 people in my home for tomorrow's celebration.
i'll take lots of pix of the event, and send you links so you too can learn how to create your own pretties.
in the meantime enjoy a few handmade items from someone who use to be afraid of handmade.
one of my new favorite, creative blogs is How About Orange. where i have found too many handmade things to try my hand at. i have been surprised by what i can do! these gift bows made from magazine pages were easy-peasy! so easy in fact i may never buy a bag of a dozen gift bows for a $1 again.
What are your weekend plans?
Are you a fan of handmade or do you fear it?
i waited till close to the last minuet to make banners, paper flower bouquets, and to sew baby gifts.
today i'll clean, bake, and try to figure out how to fit 30 people in my home for tomorrow's celebration.
i'll take lots of pix of the event, and send you links so you too can learn how to create your own pretties.
in the meantime enjoy a few handmade items from someone who use to be afraid of handmade.
one of my new favorite, creative blogs is How About Orange. where i have found too many handmade things to try my hand at. i have been surprised by what i can do! these gift bows made from magazine pages were easy-peasy! so easy in fact i may never buy a bag of a dozen gift bows for a $1 again.
we recently attended two first birthday parties, both with the cupcake theme.
i whipped up these darling little cupcake shirts for the birthday girls.
they look delicious to this fairly new appliquer.
i whipped up these darling little cupcake shirts for the birthday girls.
they look delicious to this fairly new appliquer.
and because i was going applicrazy i had to make each birthday girl
another shirt with an ME look.
What are your weekend plans?
Are you a fan of handmade or do you fear it?
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
A Good Infection
(Originally posted Feb. 2009)
"This matters more than anything else in the world... The whole dance, or drama, or pattern of this three-Personal life is to be played out in each one of us: or each one of us has got to enter that pattern, take his place in that dance. There is no other way to the happiness for which we were made.
Good things as well as bad, you know, are caught by a kind of infection. If you want to get warm you must stand near the fire: if you want to be wet you must get into the water. If you want joy, power, peace, eternal life, you must get close to, or even into, the thing that has them.
They are not a sort of prize which God could, if He chose, just hand out to anyone. They are a great fountain of energy and beauty spurting up at the very center of reality. If you are close to it, the spray will wet you: if you are not, you will remain dry.
Once a man is united to God, how could he not live forever?
Once a man is separated from God, what can he do but wither and die?"
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