![]() 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
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,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. Sometimes we eat fancy.
And when I say fancy, I mean the nice plates, real silverware, water glasses, and cloth napkins – all while sitting at the dining room table. Fancy. When I was growing up, fancy dinners happened every night. Though I didn’t really consider them fancy at the time. It’s just what we did. When I got married and started a family, fancy dinners continued – every night. It’s what we did. When company visited, the table was extended to welcome our guests and fancy dinners commenced. I remember years ago while visiting my parents, they shocked me by revealing the fact that they no longer sat at the table for evening meals. Instead, they had invested in dinner trays and settled in the living room in their respective chairs, all while watching the news or a game show. Hardly fancy. I couldn’t fathom eating in this manner. Ever. But then, something happened. My husband and I became empty nesters. Fancy dinners became rare as most evenings we found ourselves eating in front of the TV while watching the news or a game show with plates perched on laps, or in my case, a throw pillow. (Dinner trays are so obsolete.) Hardly fancy. But occasionally, we eat fancy. And we remember the fancy dinners spent with family and give thanks for the memories and the moments that made dinner time precious time. Fancy. Mimi, can I run through that field
Just over there? I want to run free And smell the fresh air! The corn is TALL! And it's so green! I can hide for days And never be seen! I can twirl and sing And walk down country roads! I can jump and run And catch little toads! I could stay here forever And never be bored! There's so much to do And so much to explore! So, can I, Mimi? Run wild and be free? I love this place Where I can be me! If you recognize this picture, then chances are you are now chanting the words (sorry about that)!
Of course, the classic children’s story is none other than “We’re Going on a Bear Hunt.” As a former preschool teacher, I’ve read this book numerous times and I can honestly say I can still chant the words the from memory. But I’ve never paid much attention to the black dog who accompanies the family. Until Jensen. Jensen is our 3-year-old grandson and according to him (and unbeknownst to us), a big black dog lives in our house. He announces this fact every time he visits our house. His eyes get wide while his voice lowers to a whisper and for a moment, the house is silent as we acknowledge the presence of the big black dog, according to Jensen. Recently I insisted Jensen lead me to the big black dog (who just so happens to reside in the basement of our house, naturally). Together, hand in hand, we descended the stairs on our quest to find this ominous creature. So as not to wake the beast, we used our very quiet voices as we searched. We ended up in the guest room (also known as the sleep-over room). Crouched on our knees with a pair of ‘noculars, we peered underneath the bed, in the closet, and finally behind the door (because as we all know, these are the places where big black dogs live). “Mimi, we are on a big black bear dog hunt, right?” (Light bulb moment.) “We sure are, buddy.” (Did I mention how much I love the creative imagination of three-year-olds?) Together, we are going on a bear hunt to find a big black dog who lives in our basement under the bed and behind the door and in the closet. It’s an adventure worth exploring with a three-year old who holds a pair of ‘noculars. And who also holds my heart. #goingonabearhunt #bigblackdog #authorlife #mimilife #preschool #imagination I believe that time in heaven is nothing like time on earth. And for loved ones who have gained their eternal residence in heaven, I believe time stands still.
I'm sure there's a Godly explanation for time on heaven versus time on earth. For example, heaven is a place with no more suffering and no more tears. He knows the hearts of His children and recognizes time away from loved ones can be a time of great suffering. So therefore, time in heaven must be but a blink of an eye before we are reunited with loved ones. But on earth, time continues to tick by. 1 year. 12 months. 365 days. 8760 hours. 525,600 minutes. 31,536,000 seconds. One year ago, we sat by my mom's side. Held her hand. Stroked her hair. Whispered sweet words of love. Experienced ... peace. And then God took her home. God comforts those who mourn. He leads them beside still waters and provides timeless peace. He knows my heart. He knows my suffering. He knows my grief. He refreshes my soul and gives me peace for this day. He is good. Until we meet again ... This week marks my mom's one year heaven date in addition to Father's Day. Therefore, Grief is a little more present this week.
I've always known about Grief but it wasn't until I was older that she actually became part of my life. When I was younger, I'd see her from a distance - attached to older relatives, acquaintances, co-workers and others - all who were experiencing the loss of a loved one. For years, I was able to avoid personally meeting her. But eventually the time came with the loss of some precious friends and beloved family members. Grief had finally decided to attach herself to me whether I liked it or not. And I did not like it. Nor did I like her. In our early days of togetherness, she was in my face and my space constantly. There wasn't a place I could go to escape her. She insisted on being by my side. ALL.THE.TIME. She was exhausting. And just when I thought I had moved on, she'd remind me of her presence. Sometimes she would be nice and give me little trigger warnings so I could be prepared. But other times she would just show up and show off as if she was in charge. And to be honest, sometimes she was. She's been a part of my life for quite some time now. I know when she is close by and even when she's distant. She's with me always. I'd like to think that we are done with the unexpected and heart-breaking encounters that she is known for, but I also know Grief does what she wants and when she wants to do it. So we will continue on our journey of companionship and with whatever the journey brings. Grief's presence will forever be present, at least on this side of heaven. Some days I just sit with her and she reminds me of our first encounters. Grief is a little kinder on those days as I lean in to her and remember the heartbreaking moments while soaking in the precious little memories. This is when Grief and Love meet. I know that Grief is a result of Love. Without Love there would be no Grief and I cannot imagine a life without Love. For now, I'll simply embrace Grief and wait until I'm reunited with Love. Fun fact ... I love crafting ~ specifically memory pillows using favorite shirts from a beloved family member or friend.
Holding these precious garments is an incredibly personal experience for me. It's like I have been allowed a tiny little glimpse into the life of a person whom I've never met. These shirts once covered a beating heart. These shirts once covered arms that hugged loved ones. These shirts once lived a life. Often the shirts are received still holding the scent of its owner and I love that. Scents can provide such sweet memories and comfort. My dad was an Old Spice and tobacco kind of guy and every once in a while, I allow my senses to remember his fatherly hugs. Sweet memories. Every pillow has a story of a life lived and loved and I'm always honored when asked to create such a special keepsake. Snacks and a seek & find book can only mean one thing.
Road trip! When I was a kid, family road trips happened just once a year ... immediately after school ended for summer break and before summer really hit. And always to the same place ... Springville, Alabama, to visit my grandparents. One of the highlights in preparing for our road trip was choosing snacks, purchasing new puzzle books, and selecting a few toys to keep us company as we traveled. No iPad, smart phones, movies, or other electronic devices to entertain us. Air conditioning meant the windows were rolled all the way down and music selections were left to our parents and a sketchy AM radio station. Motels were costly and not always available. Often my parents would pull in to a road side rest area, along with other travelers, and catch a few before hitting the road again. Road side picnics always included cold friend chicken and a butter sandwiches. And on more than one occasion, one of my sisters would touch me and the other one would look at me. It's a wonder I even survived. And yet, I looked forward to it every year! |
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