Yesterday, Ellanor (3) had one of those adorable school programs where all the 3 year olds sing and the pastor gives a simple devotional thought. I was not expecting his attention getter pictures and simple words for toddlers to make me cry. Yet, there I was.
Pastor Salemink of St James Lutheran Church in Lafayette came out and held up the familiar shape of a Valentine's heart. "Hey kids! What is this?" All the children raised hands and called out, "A heart!" He smiled and said, "Right, sort of. (He held up a picture of a red and blue, tube-laden real heart) What is this?" He called out. His question was met with silence. My husband whispered, "Real."
"Kids, this is what a real human heart looks like. When I was your age I was sure my heart looked like this perfect, pretty red heart over here. But that's not true. Love is like these hearts." Here my tears started to run. "Many grown up people think that love is that fluttery, stomach churning, silly feeling that comes and goes. That's not love; that's gas. Go potty. Love is a verb you do and a choice you make every day to care for the people in your life. Just like Jesus loved us when He came."
My life last year tested the boundaries of what I meant when I said, "I love you." But I chose to love, to forgive, to have it healed. I have not regretted that decision for a moment. Love that repents, love that forgives, love that looks forward is the love that you do. It's the love Jesus gives us.
Ideal : exactly right for a particular purpose, person or situation
1. Noticing my husband's effort and sincerely thanking him for it.
2. Saying " you did a great job at ______."
3. Mentioning in front of others something my husband has done well.
4. Showing that I desire him physically.
5. Making it clear to him that he makes me happy (ex. saying "thank you", giving him a big hug, etc.).
If any men are reading this blog, the five little things most women appreciate are listed below.
1. Hold her hand, especially in public.
2. Leave her a message (voice mail, e-mail, or text) saying that you love her.
3. Put your arm around her or lay your hand on her knee when sitting next to each other in public.
4. Sincerely tell her that she is beautiful.
5. Pull yourself out of a funk instead of withdrawing.
Let's not settle for mediocre marriages!
The long-awaited and highly anticipated CD release party for Longing For Eden has come and gone. The band members are taking this week to refresh, regroup and start preparing for the next recording session which is coming up in a couple of weeks. Over the last few days, I have enjoyed listening to and reading about the reactions of various attendees to the concert, and have noticed that many of the comments had to do with how the band connected with the listeners. The words "real" and "authentic" were recurring themes in many of the comments that I saw and heard. One of my co-workers told me how her husband had very reluctantly come with her, lamenting all the while that "I can't believe I'm going here. You know this isn't my style of music." He had himself convinced that he was going to be miserable the entire time. She told me that afterward, she asked him, "Honest opinion; what did you think?" He told her that he surprisingly enjoyed the music and the show, but the thing that struck him most was how "real" the band was, because they shared their struggles and their less-than-perfect life stories of past addictions and brokenness, as well as the grace and hope and love that pursued them in the person of Jesus. This is only one of many stories with the same theme that I have been hearing. I'm not sure if anyone else experienced this, but I was approached by several people afterward who shared their own stories of brokenness, and was able to minister God's love and grace to them. I am so excited to continue this journey and to see where God takes us next!
The weekend before Easter, my sister texted me that mom had gone to the hospital, then home, she was sick with the flu. Then it was scar tissue, then she was taken by ambulance to the hospital after collapsing. That all started on Thursday. I found out Saturday how ill mom truly was. I was suppose to sing Sunday for a very special service with four churches present. I asked God, "Am I suppose to go, or stay and sing, what is going on"? He spoke to me and said, "Stay and sing tomorrow, go next weekend as you had planned with your sister, you will be of help then." I cried, "will I get to see my mom at least one more time before you take her to heaven?" He laughingly said, "Yes, many more times." A huge sigh of relief waved over me as I calmed down instantly. I needed to hear that from God's mouth, in just that way. I did as God told me. They finally found the problem, did the necessary surgery Saturday, then another one Sunday and mom's life was miraculously saved.
That Sunday night, about 10:00 p.m. I was drained. Our dog, Scooby-Doo, had to go outside to potty. The day before, he had run away to scout out the neighborhood, since it was now Spring. I didn't shut the door as I got another text. I was half asleep & ready to go to bed after answering another text when Paul asked, "Is Scooby outside?" I was like, oh crap, yeah! He went to potty a little bit ago. We called, no Scooby. I drove all over MacDale then home, no Scooby-Doo. I went out yet again, half exhausted & now worried, looking all over MacDale and nearby places calling for Scooby until I barely had a voice, still no Scooby. The next morning Paul took Sarah to school and then looked for Scooby in the car, no Scooby. I got into my car about 9:00 a.m. with two towels ready for dirt or blood. I prayed, "God please let me know where Scooby is, even if he is dead." I pulled out of our driveway, looked over and saw a tan patch of fur. I drove over, backed into the neighbors drive, saw them and said, "I think that is my dog." They said, "we took the collar off to call the tag number to see if we could find the owners." "I am so sorry. It was hit just before the kids came out to get the bus and I asked my husband to pick the dog up and take it to the yard so it wouldn't be mangled by other cars." Tears started streaming down my cheeks as I thanked them for their kindness. The gentleman put Scooby in the towel and on the car seat for me as I thanked him again.
When Sarah came home from school, we told her. She screamed, cried, wailed and asked WHY, over and over. We buried him in the back yard and had a little service for him. Sarah was so upset that she threw up half the night. Her stomach was still a mess the next morning, so she didn't go to school. Scooby was like a brother to her since she has no siblings that are being raised in our home.
That weekend epitomized what Paul had just told Sarah the day before all this started. Enjoy the time you have with others, because you never know when they won't be here with you.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-4 To everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under heaven:
A time to be born, And a time to die; A time to plant, And a time to pluck what is planted; A time to kill, And a time to heal; A time to break down, And a time to build up; A time to weep, And a time to laugh; A time to mourn, And a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, And a time to gather stones; A time to embrace, And a time to refrain from embracing;
Thank you God for sparing my mom, and giving us seven years with Scooby-Doo.
People started coming in 45 minutes before the doors were even supposed to open. Family. Friends. Co-workers. Church members. People who we haven't seen in years.
Five minutes before showtime, we took to the stage, put our monitors into our ears, picked up our instruments and awaited the final countdown. Deep breath. Curtains up! Music starts. Crowd cheers.... It was surreal.
Then came the moment I had been hoping and praying for since October of 2012. The final moments would find the center screen lowering to display the music video for the song I wrote. I exited the stage and found an aisle where I could sit on the stairs. As "Little Girl Lost" started playing, my daughter who was the reason I had written it in the first place, came and sat beside me and put her head on my shoulder.
That moment made it a night I will never forget!
http://www.longingforeden.com/video/
Today is St. Zita's Day. She's my patron saint and a great example of simple faith and obedience. I found a way to celebrate her and to raise A Taste of Redwall's profile after mass. I turned my cinnamon roll recipe into monkey/otter bread. People are more interested in listening to your sales pitch if they can chew on yummy bread while they do it.
My life has been revolving around A Taste of Redwall, a fundraiser for St. Martin DePorres' Orphanage. It's involved lots of talking to people I don't know and asking them to do me favors. Such work is exhausting, but I can do it when it's for kids. Even so, I was struggling and asked a friend to tell me again why this work was so vital. She told me things I didn't know. The orphanage is home to 68 kids. Two of them are albino and in extra danger because their families consider them a curse and witch doctors exploit them for their body parts. When she told me that, I didn't need any more motivation.
Everyone has work to do for the the Lord, but that is difficult. It helps to remember that he doesn't ask you to waste your time. The Lord's work always serves a greater purpose, even when it's simple, repetitive or awkward. Keep going until you reach "Well done, good and faithful servant."
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