Walking and chattering happily, we flitted from one end of the fairgrounds to the other. The flashing rides blared their music, roosters crowed and cows mooed, and the scent of cotton candy mixed with roasted corn and smoked turkey legs tickled our noses. The State Fair was thrilling to a six-year old AND his 41-year old mom.
But amidst the excitement, the wonder, and the awe, the biggest "thrill" I experienced that day was when that busy independent six-yr old slipped his tiny hand into mine... unsolicited...
And just "because."
"'Tis the human touch in this world that counts.
The touch of your hand and mine.
Which means far more to the fainting heart
Than shelter and bread and wine,
For shelter is gone when the night is o'er,
And bread lasts only a day.
But the touch of the hand and the sound of the voice
Sing on in the soul always."
- Spencer Michael Free
Dance with me with passion and wonder, embracing this world with carefree innocence like an inquisitive fawn named Bambi. And, when the dark places of stark reality threaten to destroy all that is innocent and pure, retreat to a grove of reflection here on this blog.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Looking-Glass
Tears refusing to fall, she sought solace in the small room. Silence was a premium; stolen when fires were quenched and the voices fell to a muffled roar. Praying that uninterrupted seconds would multiply to minutes, she swallowed hard.
Her best friend was gone, and so was her soul.
There was life and purpose and understanding and fulfillment with her best friend. They saw only gentle acceptance of one another, and innocent fascination in their many similarities. Every subject and conversation had light and new meaning when shared through each other's eyes.
Her best friend reflected back to her what she could not see. In turn, she understood her best friend more than she understood herself.
Stinging, her eyes blurred from memories of eager, happy, childlike moments they shared together, she was angry at how cruel time and fate could be.
And God?
Why did He have to take away the one thing—the one and only thing—she truly wanted—and needed—all of these empty, lonely and heartbreaking years?
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Chambers of My Heart
"The decision to have a child is to forever live with your heart outside of your body."
How true are those words! I have four pieces of my heart walking, talking, living, loving and sharing—all with unique and wonderful gifts, talents, dreams and desires. Most of my life has been wrapped in emotional pain from childhood traumas. I hid that pain for two decades: afraid to trust, afraid to walk, talk, live, love and share. I see my four children and see my childhood for what it should have been, where it was before the pain—alive and self-confident, curious and content, protected and innocent.
Yes, God entrusted four children to me. I fell in love with each of them the moment I knew they were conceived. And I will forever marvel at the miracle of each finger, toe and hair on their head and that God has each day planned for them (Ps 139:16). Sometimes I am scared and fearful that I will goof it all up as a mom and disappoint them terribly. But what I can do (besides have faith and not be so hard on myself)—for these chambers of my own heart—is to pray for them, love, care for and protect them fiercely, and give them back to God.
Shattered as a child, God gathered the broken pieces of my heart and created four beautiful new hearts.
God mended and healed. And not necessarily how I expected.
How true are those words! I have four pieces of my heart walking, talking, living, loving and sharing—all with unique and wonderful gifts, talents, dreams and desires. Most of my life has been wrapped in emotional pain from childhood traumas. I hid that pain for two decades: afraid to trust, afraid to walk, talk, live, love and share. I see my four children and see my childhood for what it should have been, where it was before the pain—alive and self-confident, curious and content, protected and innocent.
Yes, God entrusted four children to me. I fell in love with each of them the moment I knew they were conceived. And I will forever marvel at the miracle of each finger, toe and hair on their head and that God has each day planned for them (Ps 139:16). Sometimes I am scared and fearful that I will goof it all up as a mom and disappoint them terribly. But what I can do (besides have faith and not be so hard on myself)—for these chambers of my own heart—is to pray for them, love, care for and protect them fiercely, and give them back to God.
Shattered as a child, God gathered the broken pieces of my heart and created four beautiful new hearts.
God mended and healed. And not necessarily how I expected.
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