When my youngest daughter entered elementary school, we did this thing. I’d stand on our porch every morning and watch her climb onto the bus. I’d follow her little head, bobbing in the aisle before finding the window seat. Once she was settled and before the bus would pull away, she’d press her little face against the window and we would wave our special goodbye signal until the bus turned the corner, out of sight. It was our thing for years. Until it wasn’t. One morning, I stood on our porch as she climbed onto the bus, walked the aisle, and took her seat by the window, just as she did every day, every year. I waved our special goodbye signal and waited for her to return the sentiment, just as we did every day, every year. I waved and waved until the bus was no longer in sight, but she never even looked out the window. For a moment, I was heartbroken. But then I realized, she was a tweenager now and she was growing up and what was once a thing, well … things change. She was the last of our children to enter this phase. Even though I had walked this journey before, something about her being the last one just hit a little hard. I had to let go. Just a little bit. It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. And yet … My oldest grandchild has entered the tween stage. Hanging with her Mimi and doing the things we’ve done in the past has changed a bit. What once was is now a little different and for a moment today, my heart was sad. Even though I have walked this journey with my own children, there’s something about the first grandchild that just hits a little hard. She’s growing up and things change. I have to let go. Just a little bit. It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. But I may need to stock up on the tissues for more moments to come. And that’s totally fine.
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Dear Mom,
I know this will not come as a surprise to you but I went thrifting today. You know how much I enjoy a good thrift shopping day and today did not disappoint. And I know it won’t surprise you that I found the CUTEST stuff. You know my knack in finding items that are stylish and “so Staci”. Wouldn’t you know that most of my items were green tagged as well so that meant half off! On top of that, I scored a senior discount. The clerk didn’t even ask and for a moment I was a little put off by that but then, hey, a discount is a discount! (But it still would have been nice to be asked. ;)) You would have loved today. I am so glad that we had years of shopping trip experiences. Those precious memories accompany me each time I step foot into a Goodwill store, especially this time of year. March was our annual mom and daughter outing and boy, we had some good times! Kansas weather in March can be a little tricky but we never let it stop us. Rain, wind, snow, cold, warm … it didn’t matter because we were together doing our thing and enjoying every single moment. I know shopping with me was not always a picnic. Like when I was 12 and you insisted that I get out of the car to accompany you to a local secondhand shop. I’d do it, of course, but not until I made sure that no one saw me entering such a place. If anyone knew that my “new sweater” was a secondhand sweater … well … one word. Mortifying. I’m not sure what age I was when I came to appreciate shopping in thrift stores. Probably when I became a mom as well. Outfitting three young daughters while maintaining a budget required some creative shopping. But then you knew that, didn't you? I think I did well. Afterall, I had a good role model. At some point, it was no longer a budget issue but rather a fun hunt for cute outfits at a fraction of the cost. And at some point, it was no longer about the shopping experience but rather a precious mom and daughter outing. The anticipation of our annual day came with sweet conversations in the car, overflowing shopping carts, and a large diet coke (no ice) with a snickers bar for the ride back home. The car would be loaded with plastic bag purchases. Our feet would be tired. Our wallets would be empty. But our hearts were full of sweet moments that are now precious memories. As the day would come to an end, you would say, “Staci Jo, you cannot imagine how much I needed this.” Oh, mom. I think I can. How I miss those days. But not as much as I miss YOU. Tonight, my closet is a little fuller. My feet are a little tired. My wallet is a little less empty. But my heart is blessed. Mom, you cannot imagine how much I needed this. Until we are together again … Your favorite middle daughter, Staci A dining table is a place to experience life. When bellies are full and plates are empty, the table invites a place for elbows on the table and for us to lean into a conversation. It’s a place to listen, to laugh, to live, to learn, to love. It’s a place to … linger. (“Linger – verb – to stay in a place longer than necessary because of a reluctance to leave”) When I was growing up, table-time was a daily event that took place every evening around 5:30. (In our neck of the woods, this was known as supper time.) Supper time meant everyone stopped what they were doing to gather around the table to be fed, to be encouraged, to be heard, to be loved. Every meal at the table began with a simple prayer … “God is good, God is great. Let us thank Him for this food. Amen.” When my girls were young, we taught them a similar prayer … “Come, Lord Jesus. Be our guest. Let this food to us be blessed.” I didn’t know it then, but those little prayers were more than just words to be said before a meal. They were an invitation extended to a precious God to join us at the table. Those prayers acknowledged His presence at our table for every meal and every other time we gathered. And He leaned into our conversations, and He listened. As the meal was finished … our plates empty, our bellies full … He lingered. Just as He does today. So much life happens around the table. Sure, there’s food. But there’s also lessons to be learned, games to be played, art to be created, problems to be solved, laughter to be had, tears to be shed, life to be celebrated, life to be mourned … life to be lived. “Come, Lord Jesus, be our guest.” Lean in to our conversations, listen to our hearts, and linger with us as life is lived around the table. In case you didn't know, today is National Puzzle Day.
I have sweet childhood memories of jigsaw puzzles, mostly involving my grandma. It was not uncommon for her to have a card table set up in her dining room, next to the dining room table. The card table was used to hold all the puzzle pieces while the dining room table was used to assemble the puzzle. (Side note ... I don't ever recall my grandma using the dining table for actual dinners. ) While visiting my grandma, we'd find ourselves stopping at the puzzle table as we passed through the dining room in order to study the pieces. If we were lucky, we would find pieces that would fit, therefore contributing a piece at a time to grandma's puzzle. Once the puzzle was complete, we'd stand back and admire our role in assembling a beautiful piece of art. There are life lessons to be had when it comes to assembling jigsaw puzzles. In the beginning, the puzzle form is assembled. (Genesis 1:2) Once the puzzle form is completed, then we begin to fill in the puzzle. (Genesis 1:28). Each piece is uniquely shaped. (Psalms 139:13). Each piece has a purpose. (Jeremiah 29:11) Everyone has a part in assembling the puzzle. (1 Thessalonians 5:11). And finally, the puzzle is not complete until every piece has found its spot. (Luke 15:4) Do you get what I'm saying? Perhaps you are wondering just where you fit in this puzzle of life and how all the pieces of your life make any sense at all. What I believe is that God uses ALL the pieces...the good, the bad, the chaotic, the creative, the tragic, the joyful ... in order to reveal a puzzle that is a beautiful work of art that points back to Him. We may never see the finished product this side of Heaven but I have no doubt every piece will fall together perfectly and the finished product will be revealed upon our heavenly homecoming. Because of Him. You are loved. Rambunctious is a word that easily describes the personality of one of my favorite little persons. He is a loud, wild, silly, energetic, ornery, and yet loving little guy who delights in running rather than walking and has the most infectious giggle.
But then, that's the life of a soon-to-be four-year-old who loves dinosaurs, cars, trucks, and superheroes. Rambunctious. One of his favorite things to do is to run in public settings, totally oblivious to the possible repercussions of his actions. When this happens, a parent (or grandparent) is quick to step in and brings things to a halt with a reflex and action that all parents (and grandparents) know as the snatch-and-grab. With this single, swift, and yet effective action, he is snatched out of harm's way. He is safe. (And so are others who are around him.) To be honest, it's a bit hard to reprimand him when he's just living his best life, albeit a bit reckless at times. But because he is so loved, we would rather snatch and grab than watch him get hurt (or hurt others). That's what we do when we love someone. I've been reading the book of Judah in the New Testament. It's a short book with just one chapter and 25 verses. And yet those verses are so good! Verse 23 uses the words "rescue and snatch" in order to keep people from falling into "flames of judgment." And while I get for some people, these are church-y words. For me, these words are quite clear. We are to "snatch and grab" those rambunctious souls who are destined for a destructive and reckless path. Just as a loving parent (or grandparent) would do for a rambunctious child, so should we do for others who are running into harm's way. Snatch. Grab. Saved. Loved. Even in our most rambunctious times. December 31, 2023. The last day of a year of firsts following the loss of a loved one. Though my sweet mother-in-law entered into Heaven on January 10th of this year, in many ways her last day of life was Saturday, December 31, 2022. The last day of the week. The last day of the year. The last day of a life she lived and one that we all loved. There was nothing unusual about this day. She spent it at home doing all the things she loved to do with all the things that made up her every day routine. Coffee, Bible devotions, breakfast, a morning nap with her companion dog Sophie, lunch, an afternoon game of cards with dear friends, dinner, a Hallmark movie, an evening conversation with her daughter, and finally ... bedtime. A perfectly normal ending to a perfectly normal day in a year that was far from perfect. (Aging is no walk in the park.) December 31, 2022. Just another normal day in the life of this sweet soul. And yet, looking back and reflecting on her last day at home, what was considered her normal activities became her final activities. Hardly normal. The next day and the days to follow consisted of an ambulance ride, a med-vac transport, blood work, MRIs, surgery, a feeding tube, a breathing tube, IVs, catheters, pokes, prods, vitals, doctors, surgeons, specialists, nurses, therapists, and EMTs. Heart wrenching conversations and final decisions were discussed at length before receiving and accepting the most caring and comforting last days in a hospice facility, surrounded by family. And then God called her home. A perfect beginning to a perfect new life. A few years ago on one of our trips back to visit family, my favorite mother-in-law invited me to a make-and-take craft event that was happening in her small town. (Making crafts and taking them with me? Yes please!) It was an invitation I could not resist. She knew me well. When we arrived at the event, all the items were laid out, ready to be crafted. "Do you want to build a snowman?" she asked. (Cue the theme song to Frozen...you know you want to!) We had such a fun evening! (Making memories and taking them with you forever? Yes please!) From the lyrics of the Frozen song, I pulled out these verses: "I never see you anymore It's like you've gone away I think some company is overdue It gets a little lonely, all these empty rooms." Happy New Year in Heaven, Rita. We are so thankful for the moments and memories we made with you. But goodness ... you are so missed. Underneath the tree that takes residence in our living room is a little cardboard star gift box. It's the only gift that the grandchildren are allowed and encouraged to open while waiting for Christmas Day. Inside the gift box is baby Jesus.
Sometimes he lands in the hands of a grandchild who holds him for a moment before quietly slipping him back into the box and other times he gets caught up with toy dinosaurs and matchbox cars. And sometimes he gets lost. This morning was one of those times. Upon discovering the empty star box, we quickly and thoroughly searched until baby Jesus was found. There was excitement and surprise in the voice of our young grandchild as he found Jesus in a most unusual place. But then ... isn't that the Christmas story? Isn't that life? Sometimes it feels like Jesus is lost to us. We thoroughly search only to find Him in the most unusual places. Places we never thought we'd be. I once was lost but now am found. And He is always there. He is Emmanuel. He is God With Us. Even in the messiness of love and life when we feel so lost. You are loved. #babyjesus #Christmas #Emmanuel #youareloved #seekandfind #wheresjesus Nestled behind the bare winterish-looking trees sits this abandoned farmhouse in rural Kansas. I really wanted to get a little closer to peek inside the windows, to walk through the old front door, and to step back in time to a life that was lived in this old house. But, alas, #trespassing. I can recall quiet Sunday afternoons as a young girl. My dad would announce ... "grab a coat; we're going for a ride!" We'd pile into the family car with no electronic devices, toys, or earbuds to pacify us. With just the company of siblings and parents, we'd set out for a country road adventure. It was not uncommon for us to stumble onto an abandoned old home where we would wander through ... each of us lost in our own thoughts ... silently taking in the dusty and drafty remnants of a life once lived in an old house in the country. Who lived here? What became of the family? When and why did they leave? Where did they go? So many questions. So much wondering. Were we trespassing then? Probably so. I suppose my love for old homes was born from an illegal activity that my parents forced upon me. Does that make me a bad person? I don't think so. I'm just a lover of old, abandoned homes thanks to the Sunday afternoon jaunts with my family. While my walk-through days are pretty much over (again ... #trespassing), I will always stop the car on a quiet Sunday afternoon on a quiet country road and imagine the life that once was lived in what is now an abandoned old home. #oldhome #theresnoplacelikehome #countryroadstakemehome #Kansas #MondayMemories #thisoldhouse ,Confession.
I've become a little addicted to watching certain TikTok videos involving the Royal Horse Guards for the King of England. The horses are majestic, the guards are stoic, and the visitors are insistent on obtaining pictures. Pictures are allowed, as is touching the horse, but whatever you do, do not touch the horses' reins because you will be reprimanded by the guards. Even though there are signs readily posted informing visitors to refrain from touching the reins, inevitably there will be that one person who decides to break the rules and therefore disrespects the guard and his horse by touching the reins. Rest assured ... the guard will put you in your place. Every time. The role of the guard is a very serious one. Bottom line - don't mess with the guard. If you ever have an opportunity to visit Washington, DC, I highly recommend a visit to the tomb of the Unknown Soldier. The guards are simply amazing to watch as they stand guard over this nationally protected tomb. There is such respect and a sense of great honor involved in protecting something so very precious. They have one role, one responsibility ... and that is to protect and guard the tomb - 356 days a year, 24 hours each day, every day. Rain or shine, winter or summer ... there is ALWAYS a guard on duty. Recently I read a devotion regarding the life storms and seasons of our lives and how the peace of God surpasses all understanding and therefore we are able to weather such devastating storms. One of the scripture passages attached to the devotion is from Philippians 4:7. "And because you belong to Christ Jesus, God's peace will stand guard over all your thoughts and feelings." Read that again. "God's peace will STAND GUARD over all your thoughts and feelings." A guard's role is not to be taken lightly. The guard's role, responsibility, and commitment is to protect and guard what is precious and worthy of being protected, regardless of whatever threats stand in the way. God's peace stands guard, 24-7, rain or shine, summer or winter through all the seasons and storms of our lives. He stands guard against any and all who threaten to disrespect what is so very precious and worthy of protection. That includes your own thoughts and feelings that are intent on robbing you of His peace. You are worthy. You are precious. You are protected. You are guarded. Rest easy knowing that God's peace is on guard. Always. If you know anything about building blanket forts, then you know the most important job part is not the construction of the fort – though each pillow and blanket is crucial in making sure the fort is sustainable against the forces of nature – but rather making sure the completed fort is well guarded. Recently, I watched the grandchildren construct a blanket fort in our living room. They were extremely resourceful in using throw pillows, blankets, and furniture pieces with the main purpose of making sure that the fort was well built. Satisfied with the fort’s construction, the orders were simple for the keeper of the fort. Guard the fort! In other words, and under no circumstances, do not allow the four-legged furry creature (also known as Daisy the dog), to enter the fort! Protect the fort, always and at all costs! Because everyone knows an unwanted creature can wreak havoc on even the best constructed blanket fort. Three small words. One responsibility. GUARD. THE. FORT. There’s a life lesson there if we look close enough. Proverbs 4:23 says, “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.” In a devotion that I read recently, these words … “You, and only you, have the direct responsibility from God to guard what comes in your heart and what comes out of it – the words. Every issue you face, every decision you make, hinges on your capacity to guard your heart.” Whoa. The devotion continued with these words … “We live in a toxic verbal culture. Complaints, sarcasm, criticism, judgments, and gossip can wreak havoc in no time if your heart is not well guarded." Three small words. One HUGE responsibility. GUARD. YOUR. HEART. Guard your heart against what comes in and guard your heart for what goes out. “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do (and say) flows from it.” The Keeper of the Heart has spoken. |
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