How Could I Forget Thee?

This is the first Mother's Day without my Momma who went home to be with the Lord on the day before Easter, just three weeks ago. It is an understatement to say that I am missing her terribly, yet I and my family do not grieve as those without hope. Easter embodies all that I believe. It is fitting that my Momma entered the gates of heaven to celebrate that Good Friday had come and gone, fulfilling its promise of Redemption and offering to all who believe the hope of the Resurrection! What Glory! I find a deep joy in knowing that my Momma is free from all suffering and I am replete with the memory of a mother who loved deeply and well.

This post is from the archives:

"Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child 

she has borne? Though she may forget you, I will not forget thee. See, I have 

engraved you on the palms of my hand." Isaiah 49:15-16

     No mother would ever forget her child, for once conceived, a mother's children are hers forever. Yet the Lord makes it clear that His love for us exceeds that of a mother for her child. How can it be? And yet, He tells us again that no man can fathom the depth and heighth and breadth of the magnificent love He holds in His being for each of us. It is a love that defies description. A love that extends beyond all measure. It runs so deep that it forever scarred the hands of the One who gave Himself up for us. Even Isaiah who gave us these beautiful words could not have imagined the terrible price it would cost Christ to "engrave" us on the palm of His hand.
   Every mother alive would shudder to think of those selfsame nails piercing the hands of any of her children, yet that is precisely what happened to the Only Begotten Son of God. And it was love that compelled Him to go to that cross. Love for for you and for me.
   I began this Mother's Day by being thankful for my own Momma and her many sacrifices of love that have enabled me to become the woman I am today. It was she who rejoiced with me over the impending arrival of each little one; it was she who came at every birth and tenderly taught me how to love and care for my own babes; and it was she who has supported and championed me at every turn of my life as a mother. I owe her so much that I cannot begin to express my gratitude. A thank you seems inadequate.

   My heart is also filled to overflowing as I consider the treasure of the three sons and one daughter who have afforded me the priceless treasure of being a mother. There are no words to express the joy I hold in my heart for them, as well as for their wives and husbands. Daily I am also thankful for the joy of being a grandmother to Little One, Little Two and soon-to-be here Little Three. These little people are teaching me so much about the faithfulness of our God!

    Yet it is to the Lord Himself that I owe the greatest debt and the one debt that can never ever be repaid. For it is He who has given me and those I love life and breath and everything else. They and I are engraved on the palm of His hands. Those beautiful nail-scarred hands. It is simply too much to comprehend.

Springtime on the Eastside

   The Daughter has a wonderful neighbor who in addition to serving as friend and surrogate grandmother is an author, photographer and artist of note. Sometimes she spies Little One and Brother in the yard and grabs her camera to capture some magic. Yesterday was one of those days. Beautiful. Balmy. Nearly summer but for the magnificent tulips and flowering trees still lending their colorful majesty to each day. Today it's another story altogether. Dogwood winter. Whatever. Just plain cold. But yesterday...see for yourself. Bare feet. Bare arms and lots of precious smiles to go around.

 Can you see the butterfly on her finger? 

Windy day!

A rock, a red tree and a carpet of flowers at your feet. It's spring in Tennessee!

 Ring around the rosie...this dress is one that I made for Little One's mother many moons ago!

 Peep Eye...

 My sweet girl with her boy

And one more for the road...

Brother checking out the neighbor's ride...

Thank you Marjie for sharing the love!

An Offering

  Lent. A time of reflection. Waiting upon God. Practicing the gift of sacrificial love which knows no bounds. I view Lent as a communal grace offering to the One who has no need of gifts yet bids us come with all that we are and all that we have. This year more than ever I come seeking renewal. I have become all too aware that my vision of life and faith are so easily corrupted by the flawed level of consciousness I bring to each and every day. I humbly seek and desire the very mind of Christ.

   These are a few of my Lenten gifts I seek to lay at His feet:
          The gift of a letter. To write a note of acknowledgement to someone whom I have witnessed extending a particular kindness or gentleness when none was required.
          The gift of friendship. To reach out to embrace and encourage someone to whom I am not easily drawn. I have been the recipient of much in the way of friendship and love. How can I continue to remain within my own selfishly comfortable boundaries, to withhold myself when Christ calls me to pour myself out on His behalf?
          To surrender my secretly superior attitude whereby I judge and condemn the actions of others. May I renounce, confess, and let go of this secret sin and the others that so readily grow alongside it.
          To allow the wounds and suffering of others to pierce my heart. I find it easy to grow callused and hard-hearted, particularly when confronted with suffering on a global scale. I earnestly desire to be faithful in prayer for those whom the Lord would put on my heart.
          To seek out the way of unexpected service, however small or seemingly insignificant it might be. I would do well to remember that a cup of cold water offered in the name of Jesus can be a precious and life-giving gift.
          To daily seek Him and to offer up to Him the praise of my lips. To turn my conscious thoughts toward Him and to meditate upon His word, then to joyfully come into His presence with songs of thanksgiving.
          To laugh more with those I love. 
          To find joy in the ordinary and happiness in the simple.
          To desire less.
          To need less. 
          To buy less.
          To give away more.
          And then to give even more.
          To practice kindness to those who have wounded me.
          To seek to forgive quickly.
          To be willing to readily forgive everything from the slightest hurt to the gravest offense. 
          To let go of old wounds and to seek the grace of healing that only He can bring.
          To speak freedom.
          To renounce all lies and to fall in love with the truth.
          To be willing to speak the truth even when it is not easy or easily understood.
          To risk reputation for the way of Christ.
          To love the unlovely. 
          To listen more and to speak less.
          To quit interrupting.
          To value another's story more than my own.
          To be willing to walk to the end of the road with someone. With anyone.
          To be a better listener.
          To be a giver of joy.
          To rest in His presence.
          To celebrate His beauty I see in others.
          To celebrate His beauty in my surroundings.
          To greet each new day with anticipation.
          To end each day with heartfelt gratitude and prayer.
          To share the story of all that He has done for me, in me, and with me.
          To embrace the reality of Easter in a deeper way.

       

Grace, Grace, and More Grace

   

Wishful thinking at my house...

   Consistency with daily tasks is not one of my better traits. I will leave the unfolded laundry on the kitchen table until the surface is all but obscured before I will get around to dealing with it; I hate hanging up clothes I have just taken off so I end up piling them up in a chair where they eventually collect dust and the ever-present dog-hair; and I avoid the grocery store like the plague. Yet I have somehow managed to function as a daughter, woman, wife, mother, grandmother, college counselor, friend, sister, and domestic goddess (insert a smile here, this is supposed to be funny) for one reason and only one: the grace of God. You might think, as I once did, that the grace of God is reserved for the hard things one encounters in life or as a covering for the sin that so easily besets us; but I have come to believe something very different: the grace of God is at once for everything and for all of life: the mundane as well as the sacramental; the boring as well as the glorious, and the burdensome along with the transcendent.  I don't know about you, but I have just as great a need for the everyday circumstances of my life to be bathed in grace as I do the struggles that seem destined to impact my soul.
   A while back I encountered this tiny little verse that probably comes close to rivaling the ubiquitous "Jesus wept" as one of the all time shortest verses in the Bible, but despite its brevity, it has had a profound and lasting effect upon me and the way that I view my life. It is also found in one of the books of the New Testament that I have continually struggled for many years to understand and apprehend, the Book of James. I offer these words up to you today as a gift. A gift that I want to share. I also want to challenge you to meditate upon these six little words, this logos from the heart of God to you and to me to see if they will not change your perspective on living as much as they have altered mine. Without further ado, here they are:

     "But He gives us more grace..."James 4:6a

   Think about it. Never less. ALWAYS MORE. ALWAYS MORE. I cried the first time I comprehended these words. I had seen the words before, even read them before, but for some reason they were never able to penetrate through my grey matter to traverse the distance to my heart and they certainly seemingly never traveled that mysterious and incalculable distance to my soul. Yet somehow, in a manner I don't fully understand, this logos finally made that God-inspired, God-breathed journey to the place where bone meets marrow and heart meets soul. I got it.
    And for that I am so very thankful this Lord's day...that despite all that I am, He is all that He is and so it is that He gives us more grace. 

Grace. Undeserved, beautiful, and bounteous. 

Beauty Everywhere

   It was a day like no other. The weather was nothing short of perfect. Brilliant sunshine. A cool but gentle tree-ruffling breeze. Temperatures in the sixties. The hint of fall in the air. Lots of golden afternoon light bathing everything in its warm glow. I know that I was not alone in thinking that heaven itself had bent low to create a magnificent day for this special Bride and Groom. There was beauty everywhere you turned. And none more lovely than the radiance of the Bride and Groom.

 
    It is obvious from these photographs that I am not a professional photographer. Below you can see the real photographer at work doing what she does best...capturing those special moments. I stayed out of the way but managed to get some sweet moments between the Bride and Groom.

Who doesn't love the way that a Bride and Groom look at each other?

The Mother of the Groom, my Baby Sister. Isn't she lovely?

The two Mommas...

 The wedding was held at the lovely Windermere Golf Club outside of Atlanta, GA

 No Auburn wedding would be complete without a Toomer's Corner Groom's Cake. 

Wouldn't you agree?!

More to follow!

Sanctuary

    I'm not exactly one hundred percent sure that I know where this place is. That's the downside of using a navigation system to get from Point A to Point B. You don't have to map out a course, read a map, or figure out the most economical or most advantageous route to your intended destination. You just turn your brain off and listen to the computer-generated voice as she gets you from here to there. And that's exactly what I did. With my eyes open, of course.
   But oh my. When I traveled the backroads of Georgia, I had no idea that I was on my way to another version of heaven. But I was.
   Lake Lanier. A house (thank you Polly and John) for a week with my sisters. Time to pull things together for an upcoming wedding. Time to unwind. Time to relax. Time to laugh. Time to cry. Time to pray. A few of my favorite things in the whole wide world.
   I've always thought I was a beach person. Now I'm not so sure.