Home and Family

Bitesize Pieces of Perfection

I’m sure it came inside a card I no longer have, but this little strip of paper made it’s way into a box of keepsakes. When I ran across it several months ago, I took it out and glued it into my art journal.AJM I Wish

Aunt Jeanne Marie has often sent me such treasures. When I was younger I didn’t realize their long term value, and many didn’t get saved. But somehow, I began to see these jewels of wisdom and I started tucking them away.

Today, I read this one over and over. Of all the things listed here, my mind got stuck on the, “…ordinary little bite size pieces of perfection…”

It got me thinking – just what does a bite size piece of perfection look like?

So here’s my short list from the past month:

IMG_3908Work has brought my son Daniel from Philadelphia to Florida for two whole weeks. So for fourteen days, we get to talk, dream, argue, and frustrate each other, just like the old days. It’s so wonderful to have my son in the house.

My granddaughter Juliette, who lives in Atlanta, shut herself in a closet to spend some quality FaceTime with me. For about thirty minutes, I got her all to myself. She told me about the recital I missed, her school work, and her latest writing projects. The memory of that conversation still warms me.

I spent the past couple weekIMG_3905s on the road for work. And in those travels, I got to eat at some amazing restaurants. All at no cost to me.

I met a new friend from Phoenix through my blog. Somehow we connected and began to support each others writing. I feel honored when she comments on my website. It’s an odd type of world we writers live in. One where we are often alone with our words. But when they go out to places unknown, and they latch onto someone else, it’s a real treat. So check out my new friend Tanara McCauley’s website. I think you’ll be glad you did.

Sometimes life just gets really hard. And it’s easy to get bogged down in the tough stuff of just getting by. And all the while, God is reaching down and handing us little bite size pieces of perfection. Moments He’s orchestrated on our behalf. But if we don’t take the time to reflect. If we just stay focused on the difficulties at hand, we’ll miss all the ways He’s wrapped His arms around us, and gently held us through the storm.

Maybe It’s HIS Hardest Time of Year
First Christmas Tree

Our first Christmas tree

Last week, due to circumstances beyond my control, I spent my first holiday without any family.

To get ahead of the pain, I sought wisdom from a friend who, due to her work, often spends holidays without hers. Even though she assured me she’s used to it, I could feel the hurt. The yearning for things to be different.

During the holidays, it’s difficult to not feel the loss of a shattered family. Be it death, divorce, or simply logistics, everything seems to point out our brokenness.

For years I ran myself ragged pursuing Hallmark worthy holidays. I stuffed Easter baskets, hung rows and rows of garland, I woke early to baste many a turkey. All the while feeling privileged to have my family intact. Blessed to live in a home that when decorated, could shine. Surely, I convinced myself, God was pleased with the life I’d built.

At the same time, the last thing I ever wanted to think about were the folks waking up the same way I did this Thanksgiving.

Christmas Tree

How our trees evolved

Now, I’m grateful for friends that would never leave me alone on a holiday. That reach out and embrace me like one of their own. Who go out of their way to make sure I fit in. But it’s never the same as your own family.

These past few days, I’ve thought a lot about the popular worship song, Hosanna. How in churches all across the world, we Christians love to raise our hands, and with tears in our eyes sing:

Break my heart for what breaks yours
Everything I am for Your kingdom’s cause

But, I wonder if I’ve ever fully grasped how God would answer such a request. And perhaps this Thanksgiving might just be it.

So, this Christmas, as I remind myself that, “Jesus is the reason for the season,” I’ll also consider this:

Maybe, these holidays are the hardest time of the year for Him.

I Knew Him Intimately

DSC00985A few weeks ago, I was putting together a photo collage of my granddaughter Juliette to post on facebook for her fourteenth birthday. As this picture popped up on my screen, I was first drawn to Jules’ image. All our grandchildren loved their Papa’s toys, and it was always a treat when he took them for a motorcycle ride. It was a perfect choice to add to my collection.

But for some reason, I became fixated on the image of Tim. I enlarged the picture and slowly absorbed every inch. I noticed how his thumb was resting on the “start” button. How focused he was on what he’s doing, and not on the photo being taken. And doggone it, there had to be one of those blasted cigarettes dangling from his lips.

The picture made me realize how well I knew every inch of that man. The way he pushed his sunglasses on the top of his head. How that vein in the crease of his elbow always protruded. And all those lines on his face – I could map each one. Then I laughed out loud remembering how much I loved the tiny little white hairs that covered his earlobes.Tim Barbados

On and on I went marveling at how intimately I knew Tim. And how there’s not just emotional or sexual intimacy, but physical intimacy as well. And how grateful I am to have experienced all those levels with him.

“You have searched me Lord, and you know me,” the Psalmist says. “My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place…”

Oh, how many times have I read that without fully grasping its meaning? How easily I brush aside the reality that God does know how many hairs are on my head. How interesting that an ordinary picture of Tim could provide such a vivid image of how well God knows me.

I will never get over the loss of Tim. And maybe I’m not supposed to. For I believe, God did not create us for temporal relationships, but for ones that never end. And in that eternity, we were to know and be known by all. Including our God.

DSC00369

The Love of a Boy and Girl

IMG_3631Last week I feasted at Aunt Jeanne Marie and Uncle Eugene’s dining room table. At eighty-seven, it’s a struggle for them to entertain guests. But they were delighted when I came, bringing two friends along with me. For over an hour we ate great food and drank fine wine. And as we did, the conversation became richer and richer.

Finally, I pushed my chair away from the table and declared, “This is the best.”

“No,” replied Aunt Jeanne Marie, “The love of a boy and a girl, that’s the best.” Then she turned to Uncle Eugene and tenderly tapped him on the shoulder.

The moment froze. For a few seconds, years of photographs flashed in my mind. The young bride and groom. The two of them in their forties, fifties, and sixties. Uncle Eugene so tall and handsome, usually with his arm around his stunning wife.How to get Mojo

Sitting there, I felt honored to have witnessed such a great love story.

And, once again I realized how distorted my view of love is. How too often my heart gets sucked into a Hollywood romance because the couple is young and beautiful. How I’m easily impressed by wealthy celebrities declaring unending love for one another.

But true love sat in front of me last week. And it was quiet and reserved. Deeper than anything I’ve ever experienced. And it didn’t need words. It shined through in the simplest glances. And spoke volumes in the gentle tap of a shoulder.

If we lived in a right side up world, there would be a line outside Aunt Jeanne Marie and Uncle Eugene’s door. People would come from miles in order AJM & Grandfather 1to soak in their wisdom. Talk show hosts would compete to book them on their shows.

And they would be the celebrities of the day. Their faces beaming on the cover of the magazines in the check out line. And our young men and women would clamor to be just like them.

Ahh, what a wonderful world that would be.

I Kidding Grandma

Pulled from my archives…

Last week on my day off I had some errands to run so I called my daughter to see if my four-year-old grandson Ben wanted to tag along. Of course the answer was yes so I hopped in the truck and drove the two blocks to pick him up. As soon as I walked in the house, Ben ran towards me and began pulling on the bottom of my shirt. While bouncing up and down he said over and over, “come on grandma, let’s go, let’s go.” Unable to talk to Kelly between Ben’s pleas, I gave in and the two of us headed out the open garage door. DSC00648

Ben never stopped chattering as he shimmied his little body up onto the front seat and began to buckle his seat belt. As I sat down I told him if he behaved at Starbucks and Costco, I would take him to McDonalds for lunch.

By the time we got to Starbucks Ben was bursting with energy.

All my attempts to calm him failed as he began to run around the store touching merchandise and grabbing at stuff on the condiment bar. As I tried to get my coffee and corral him, I became frustrated. Afraid of losing my temper, I took a deep breath and tried to guide him out the door, but he darted from me and ran toward the truck.

Trying to juggle my coffee and purse, I grabbed him by the arm, knelt down and told him if he didn’t behave I would have to take him home (my ultimate threat). The corners of his mouth turned down as he folded his arms across his chest and said, “fine, I won’t go in Costco, I wait in da truck”. DSC00230

“Ok,” I said as I chuckled and helped him climb into his seat.

Ben was calmer as he sat next to me fiddling with the knobs on the dashboard as I drove across town to Costco. The minute I turned off the engine, Ben was out of his seat belt and headed for the door.

“Wait a second” I said, “I thought you weren’t going into Costco.” A guilty look came over his face and he grinned, “I kidding grandma.” Laughing, I asked, “You aren’t staying in the truck?” Ben, realizing I was joking, laughed and said, “I kid you grandma, I go in Costco,” then he jumped down, took my hand and we walked toward the entrance together.

That afternoon when I dropped Ben off at home, Kelly laughed as I told her the story of Ben’s silly behavior. Later that night I told Papa, Uncle Daniel, and Ben’s dad Dan. The next day I laughed again as I told my coworkers about my day with Ben. But the more I told the story the more it reminded me of my own childish behavior. And I began to realize how spiritually, I was a lot like Ben.    DSC00595

Many times, I get angry with God because I can’t have my way. I too have pouted, folded my arms, and told God I wasn’t going to pray or go to church anymore. Many times, I’ve quit reading my Bible because I felt it wasn’t making a difference.

Then lo and behold, something happens to confirm my faith and there I am on my knees at church, or sitting in the dark pouring my heart out to God.

I think it’s nice to know God loves me in many of the same ways I love my grandson. I imagine there are times my face looks as silly as Ben’s when I’m caught in my own trap. I think God is amused when I’m at my desk hunkered over my Bible, in essence saying like Ben, “God, I kid you, I go in Costco.”

And I rejoice knowing at any time I can reach for the comfort of His hand as I take the next step in my journey towards home.