Monday, December 24, 2012

Choose the Gift

If you don't make time right now, when will you? If you don't choose today, when will you? If you don't open your heart this evening when the candles are gleaming and the choir is singing, when will you? Don't wait to open God's heavenly gift. Unwrap the treasure of the Father's most precious Christ-child right now, and tomorrow, and the next day. Unwrap the Gift {{fresh}} from Heaven. And choose to Gift yourself daily with Him for rest of your life. ♥

Friday, December 14, 2012

Breakfast in a Mug

A gift from me to ((you.))

Breakfast in a mug... easy & delicious. Two eggs, fresh chopped tomato and fresh spinach leaves. Sprinkle with shredded cheese and a pinch of salt and pepper.

Microwave for about 90 seconds. (Careful, mug might be h-o-t!)



The Helmet and a Brotherhood

The personal helmet's pads and lining were raggedly ripped away from the interior and returned to school with a sticker in hopes it might slip past and get checked-in unnoticed. But my son saw it as he walked through the supply cage with Coach looking at each helmet for identifying marks, hopeful that maybe, just maybe, his missing helmet might have been returned this week. Instead, he was surprised to finally understand that he was not part of something bigger, not part of something stronger, not part of something intangible. He was now fully finished hanging high lofty hopes that this team was something akin to iron sharpening iron. Instead he heard the sad sounding thud an unknown teammate made when he clunked hollowly and fell to the bottom of the barrel.

I’m grasping deep inside of myself to hold onto a vetige of my own good nature, my own motherly wisdom, and my own honor over this. How easy to lash out. How wondrous to throw intelligence out the window and fly fickle with fury. How dangerously delicious to loose the barrage of words and point angriest finger and wish worse on this thief without a face. Instead I’m digging deeply into the darkness, feeling for the slippery chink of a handhold on forgiveness and another place to grasp strongly for a clearheaded attitude other than the one which dangles a toe over the line. It lands just above the deep grudge against an unknown young man who took, then shredded, his teammate’s personal $300 piece of equipment. It was not carelessly paid for, not devilishly flaunted, not cruelly cared less about. Instead it was thought about for weeks, it was considered, researched, decided upon suddenly when son suffered a concussion. Now my heart delves into, "You're done with kindness it doesn't pay. Drop the sideline photography!" it shouts, “Lock up the photo site with a password just for friends. Walk away. Hang it up.” Brain states unequivocally, “Take care of son’s memories and worry not a thing for any other man's past athletic team experiences... Basic respect...basic integrity were all thrown in his face.” And I want so badly to claw it all back into their huddle so they can see it, feel it, hear it, taste it.

And the thing is, I don’t believe in anything like wishing ill will. I don’t believe in the idea that if a young man does wrong, life will pay him back down the road in locusts and frogs and torrents of horribleness. Though I may wish it and I may want it in all my red hot disappointment. But I believe in something more intensely opposite. That blessings will follow a man through his life if he strives to live it with honor and with dedication and with truthful heart in the likeness of his Maker. Mostly because he is himself preparing the very road that he himself will walk down one day. It begins at his very core and continues to resonate out till others around him know what he’s made of by the character he exudes. He is a worthy man- ever dedicated, ever relentless in his pursuit of conscience. And I believe in something bigger and even more courageous than simplistic: the ability to choose right over wrong. The ability to truly decipher the need to step up to something because it’s either a life changing moment or it’s wasted as another dank drop in the bucket, more of the same old sad stuff that gets a man nowhere down the rutted road.

Thank you for returning the helmet at all. Someday, come and see me. Or him, my son. And unload the burden. Until then, I’m left wondering: Where is your goodness? Where is your soul? We’re built in His image and yet you’re but a shadow of a man, flitting here and there, hiding in the darkness. You may pretend to be one who is solid and tough and tested on the outside, but you’re tired and shrunken and dried out on the inside. Teams don’t win championships with a brotherhood built out of dusty bone-dry sandbags. Teams win championships on solid rock granite brotherhoods. The kind of brotherhood you can hang your whole life onto and share for even longer.

The helmet certainly met nothing to you. To me, to him, it signified what would have been. What chould have been. What should have been.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

ø¤º°°º¤ø,„º°¨¨°º¤ø °¨My Christmas wish for you..ø¤º°°º¤ø,„º°¨¨°º¤ø °¨¨°º

Comfort on difficult days, smiles when sadness intrudes, a faint rainbow to follow the storm clouds, laughter to kiss your lips, fiery sunsets to warm your heart, friendly hugs when spirits sag, small beauty for your eyes to see, friendships to brighten your being, faith so that you will Believe, confidence for when you doubt, courage to know yourself, patience to accept the truth, and ♥ to complete your life. ,,„ø¤º°¨¨°º¤ø,„º°¨¨°º¤ø °¨¨°º¤ø...ø¤º°°º¤ø,„º°¨¨°º¤ø °¨¨°º¤ø:

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

A Little Fa-la-la-la-la

Just decorated my bedroom in a little Fa-la-la-la-la. Pine swags hanging here, apple Christmas candles & white twinkling lights up there, a handful of ornaments in this, faux mink throw across that. Red bows tied around toss pillows just so. ...Who says the rest of the house has to enjoy all the Christmas joy?
Up too early this morning... was feeling mounting stress over all there is to do before this week is over, till dear hubby led me outside by the hand for a closer look at the moon, barefoot, pajama-clad, bedhead, and all.

{{Did you see the moon this morning?}}

Just the tiniest sliver of a slice was bright, but whole round moon was palest ice blue and glowingly visible. The awe changed my attitude. Now thankful a mopey mood, which definitely doesn't become me, was derailed.

With all the imperfections that may head my way this week, each day is STILL good, STILL beautiful, and STILL full of amazing possibilities.



Friday, December 7, 2012

It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.
The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes short again and again because there is no effort without error and shortcomings, who knows the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the high achievement of triumph and who at worst, if he fails while daring greatly, knows his place shall never be with those timid and cold souls who know neither victory nor defeat.
~Theodore Roosevelt, 26th President of the United States
Rough game last night and the night before... reposting one of my favorite basketball quotes because I BeLiEvE in these guys!

Pete Maravich once said, "I played six to 10 hours a day, every day, 90 days during the summer, and I'd do incredible things. I would dribble blindfolded in the house. I would take my basketball to bed with me, I'd lay there after my mother kissed and tucked me in, and I'd shoot the ball up in the air and say, 'Finger tip control, backspin, follow through."

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

A Bucket

One of his favorites, my #42 just before a bucket...

And just after the bucket with QJ...

Sunday, December 2, 2012

My Acolyte

Daughter acolyted for the first time this morning in church. It's funny how you see something done a hundred times, but when it's your turn, you can't imagine how you can make it through without tripping and setting the church on fire. (A worry of hers, not mine.) She got up extra early this morning, found just the right ten-year-old outfit, and made sure we were all out the door 30 minutes early.... (Just in case.) Once there, she reviewed all the directions, asked all the questions, did a quick walk-through, then looked at me & said, "I got it, mom. You can go sit down. Don't forget to save me a seat!" (As if...?) Pastor made introductions, we shared the Peace, the music began and daughter caught my eye as she walked past me down the aisle. She bowed low. No tripping happened up the stairs. All candles were lit. No church was burned. She plunked herself down next to me a few minutes later, squeezed my hand, and breathlessly whispered, "That was fun!" In that little moment I noticed she's on this side of being a young lady, rather than that side of being a little kid. ♥

Saturday, December 1, 2012

Listening to military servicemen and women wishing their family stateside a Merry Christmas on the radio sometimes brings tears to my eyes.

Like the father reminding his kids to keep up with their spelling, math homework & school projects... he'd be home soon to sit at the kitchen table & help them... God Bless all our military personnel for EVERY sacrifice they make!!