When you are a child you have great plans on how to be a good mother. They are of course differ then how your mother is currently raising you. Sugar coated frosted flakes will be served for breakfast every single morning. Ice cream will accompany the end of each meal and veggies will be for the dog. School will be optional as well as work of course and play time will be utilized all day long.
When you get to be a teenager you feel that you are learning a lot on how to be a good mother. For in unlike your own mother who has perpetually been adult all of her life you will understand the trials of teenage doldrums. When you are mother you will always behave perfectly when your teenage daughter is changing personality 9 times a day and ignores any words of wisdom completely. Ahem.
One day you grow up and are an adult and you look in the mirror and realize something. You are your mother's daughter. Speech, actions, emotions, looks all portray the underlining evidence you came from the womb of your mother. Suddenly as you try very violently and unsuccessfully to deal with yourself and your never ending problems you realize just how full your mother's hands were and still are.
And you understand just how hard being a mother must be.
My mother laid in bed for long weeks so I could be laid in the cradle and not the coffin. Mother the woman who is the champion of being a grandmother and mother all at once. Mom the one who listens to me for hours on end. Mom who senses the despair within in me and wants desperately for it to go away.
Mention the word mom and it can bring so many mixed emotions. Some where deep inside there is maybe a resolve to do things a tad bit differently with your own children. Just as your own mother probably also vowed to do with you.
Nobody has had a perfect childhood, because all of us came from sinners. Stop though and think. There is probably a lot of things your mother did right.
Strawberry short cake for supper and ice cream after Lima bean soup. Long walks on the road and reading out loud chapters and chapters of books. Listening and listening and just more listening. I think my mom tries to do more listening then talking and its wonderful.
Remember all the things your mother did right, there probably is quite a few.
And Happy Birthday to the woman who has done a lot of things right. She is a pretty swell mum I must say and I'm a very blessed girl
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Monday, January 28, 2013
M is for...
Messes.
Saturday I googled "how to get nail polish out of carpet" I think that would explain what kind of day I had.
I'm not really sure why I decided to paint my nails. No one sees my toes in the winter since they are perpetually little blocks of ice and require at least one pair of socks, but I do see my toes when I wash them and its just nice to look at painted toes. Sorry men, you don't have to try and understand why women just feel more complete with painted nails. For me though that would be only toes. Painted fingernails distract me and I get far too distracted all ready, so I leave my fingers boring.
I wasn't going to paint my nails, but I just couldn't help myself and so I dug out the bottle of dark pink nail polish and started painting away.
I waited a few short seconds. My feet were fast becoming cold and turning blue, so I decided to apply the second coat. I shook the bottle of nail polish and...
catastrophe happened.
Somebody hadn't put the lid securely back on and thus there was nail polish on the carpet. Nail polish on my skin which was the least of my worries by the way. Nail polish on my favorite pair of jeans.
For some unexplained reason I swabbed my arm first with alcohol (rubbing of course), but that just reminded me of that terrible time when there unsuccessful attempt to draw some blood in my arm and I was poked for a very excruciating long time. I moved to cleaning the carpet, since with enough showering my arm would eventually stop looking like a four year old's.
I ran to my computer with speed not even close to the speed of light, but I did feel like I could have broke an Olympic record. I googled "how to get nail polish out of carpet. And then I applied a host of products to the vandalized area.
All the while I was very put out with myself. Why on earth did I decided my nails need a bit of color? I mean really pale pink nails, really don't look that bad. They just look sickly.
Then I wondered why I had to be created a woman, for if I wasn't a female I wouldn't have wanted to look feminine and beautiful in the first place. I wasn't exactly feeling very thankful for God's creation at that point.
I wondered why I had to be so vain and paint my nails. Was I expecting to need a IV in my foot and thus would need to look good for the doctors?
I cleaned and scrubbed some more and wondered the above things all over again and again.
Then I ate some chocolate and a little bit more chocolate.
I managed to cleanse the carpet of all the evidence and went to work on my jeans. My very most favorite pair of jeans that have just now started to fit me again. Never mind I bought them at a garage sale for a $1 four years age. A favorite a pain of jeans cannot be just replaced. One lady on the internet ruined her $400 pair of jeans that maybe feel a small bit better.
All is well that ends well. The carpet got clean. My jeans only have a very faints pink mark which I will say is the new hip and cool jeans.
On the bright side the fact that I peeled off a good portion of my fingernail while peeling carrots now seems to be a very small pimple on the face of my life.
Maybe when summer comes I will have the courage to paint my nails....while wearing old shorts and sitting on a old slab of cement.
Saturday I googled "how to get nail polish out of carpet" I think that would explain what kind of day I had.
I'm not really sure why I decided to paint my nails. No one sees my toes in the winter since they are perpetually little blocks of ice and require at least one pair of socks, but I do see my toes when I wash them and its just nice to look at painted toes. Sorry men, you don't have to try and understand why women just feel more complete with painted nails. For me though that would be only toes. Painted fingernails distract me and I get far too distracted all ready, so I leave my fingers boring.
I wasn't going to paint my nails, but I just couldn't help myself and so I dug out the bottle of dark pink nail polish and started painting away.
I waited a few short seconds. My feet were fast becoming cold and turning blue, so I decided to apply the second coat. I shook the bottle of nail polish and...
catastrophe happened.
Somebody hadn't put the lid securely back on and thus there was nail polish on the carpet. Nail polish on my skin which was the least of my worries by the way. Nail polish on my favorite pair of jeans.
For some unexplained reason I swabbed my arm first with alcohol (rubbing of course), but that just reminded me of that terrible time when there unsuccessful attempt to draw some blood in my arm and I was poked for a very excruciating long time. I moved to cleaning the carpet, since with enough showering my arm would eventually stop looking like a four year old's.
I ran to my computer with speed not even close to the speed of light, but I did feel like I could have broke an Olympic record. I googled "how to get nail polish out of carpet. And then I applied a host of products to the vandalized area.
All the while I was very put out with myself. Why on earth did I decided my nails need a bit of color? I mean really pale pink nails, really don't look that bad. They just look sickly.
Then I wondered why I had to be created a woman, for if I wasn't a female I wouldn't have wanted to look feminine and beautiful in the first place. I wasn't exactly feeling very thankful for God's creation at that point.
I wondered why I had to be so vain and paint my nails. Was I expecting to need a IV in my foot and thus would need to look good for the doctors?
I cleaned and scrubbed some more and wondered the above things all over again and again.
Then I ate some chocolate and a little bit more chocolate.
I managed to cleanse the carpet of all the evidence and went to work on my jeans. My very most favorite pair of jeans that have just now started to fit me again. Never mind I bought them at a garage sale for a $1 four years age. A favorite a pain of jeans cannot be just replaced. One lady on the internet ruined her $400 pair of jeans that maybe feel a small bit better.
All is well that ends well. The carpet got clean. My jeans only have a very faints pink mark which I will say is the new hip and cool jeans.
On the bright side the fact that I peeled off a good portion of my fingernail while peeling carrots now seems to be a very small pimple on the face of my life.
Maybe when summer comes I will have the courage to paint my nails....while wearing old shorts and sitting on a old slab of cement.
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Again
We are sipping tea at her table again for the 2nd time in the same week. I'm over at her house again and she is listening to me again. She is talking to me again.
She is encouraging me again, because she has the love of Christ that reaches out beyond her own life to the lives of others.
Again. Pursuing an a relationship doesn't mean one time. It means again and again. Reaching out over and over. Taking the step out of your comfort zone again and again.
One time is not enough to say words. One time is not enough to write a note. One time is not enough to do sometime extra.
Do something for someone one time and they will feel loved. Do something again and again and they will feel the love of Christ washing over them over and over again.
Do something once for the first time and then go do it again and then be blessed again and again.
She is encouraging me again, because she has the love of Christ that reaches out beyond her own life to the lives of others.
Again. Pursuing an a relationship doesn't mean one time. It means again and again. Reaching out over and over. Taking the step out of your comfort zone again and again.
One time is not enough to say words. One time is not enough to write a note. One time is not enough to do sometime extra.
Do something for someone one time and they will feel loved. Do something again and again and they will feel the love of Christ washing over them over and over again.
Do something once for the first time and then go do it again and then be blessed again and again.
Thursday, January 24, 2013
When I am Weak...
This week has been one of "those weeks". Nothing seems right. The sun maybe shinning outside, but inside in my heart the clouds have covered the sun and I struggle to see through the tunnel.
I think about the things I'm not doing and should be doing. There are the things I am doing, but I shouldn't be doing.
I get up. I don't reach for the Bible first. I reach for other things that I want to do. They take too long and soon there is no time for the Bible. Then the day is over and I'm trying to figure out what I did, besides simply breathing, eating, talking, and eating some more.
Honestly I'm not really living a picture perfect Christan life. Instead I'm in Pilgrim's Progress and wallowing away in the pit of despair. I can't be used of God this way. I'm acting too dreadful to be considered to be of any good use.
Suddenly without warning I'm asked to do a task...to help someone along. Why did they think of me I wonder? Why is God giving me this opportunity? I don't think there is anyone more imperfect that could be used.
When I am weak He is strong. Reaching into the dirt of my life God washes it with grace and uses me for His glory alone. Thinking upon this is like opening a gift on Christmas morning, its too wonderful and glorious to be forgotten.
I go to memorize the verse from Sunday school that we as a church are memorizing together.
Someone leaves me a note of encouragement. I want to shun the words, they were surely not meant for a person such as I. Again they are a testimony of God's grace.
I think about the things I'm not doing and should be doing. There are the things I am doing, but I shouldn't be doing.
I get up. I don't reach for the Bible first. I reach for other things that I want to do. They take too long and soon there is no time for the Bible. Then the day is over and I'm trying to figure out what I did, besides simply breathing, eating, talking, and eating some more.
Honestly I'm not really living a picture perfect Christan life. Instead I'm in Pilgrim's Progress and wallowing away in the pit of despair. I can't be used of God this way. I'm acting too dreadful to be considered to be of any good use.
Suddenly without warning I'm asked to do a task...to help someone along. Why did they think of me I wonder? Why is God giving me this opportunity? I don't think there is anyone more imperfect that could be used.
"He uses the weak things"
When I am weak He is strong. Reaching into the dirt of my life God washes it with grace and uses me for His glory alone. Thinking upon this is like opening a gift on Christmas morning, its too wonderful and glorious to be forgotten.
I go to memorize the verse from Sunday school that we as a church are memorizing together.
Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my salvation and my God.
(Psalm 42:5)
and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my salvation and my God.
(Psalm 42:5)
The words are a balm to my soul and I know that God gave them to me at that very moment as a gift.
Someone leaves me a note of encouragement. I want to shun the words, they were surely not meant for a person such as I. Again they are a testimony of God's grace.I read these words on a blog and I think this lady has just described my own heart. It's in the moments where we are stripped down to nothing of our own being that we realize how much we need a great God.
So undeserved, such a wanderer, such a great sinner, but God is such a great God. I'm so thankful for all of the low moments of this week, because in those moments God blessed me and taught more then I ever deserved.
Monday, January 21, 2013
The Monday History was Made
Today is an historical day for the country I live in. Another political term has started and though we don't have a change of leadership nevertheless there is a great big party over in D.C. today.
Two time zones away, over 2,000 miles away there isn't much of party of going on here. I actually even didn't fully realize till checking the morning the paper what was going on today.
Pretty much it has been an ordinary morning. Silent breakfasts, because conversation is for the alert and awake people. Coffee and a little bit more coffee. Get ready, make phone calls, make a web order, nothing terribly exciting to celebrate this day.
The inauguration was not on my mind. Life was on my mind and though this day will probably impact my life in ways I have yet to know I didn't feel the need to just stop and absorb the day.
Until prayer time. Mondays is always the day of sharing of requests and then interceding before the throne on one anothers' behalf. Its a beautiful day of shared burdens and the freedom of going before the throne of grace.
There I was in a small circle of chairs and staring down at a list of requests and tribulations written in black ink and then I saw the time. Miles away at that very moment a man had placed his hand on a Bible to swear an oath to lead our country. Millions watched, but the three of us closed our eyes tight and talked to a God who is, sovereign, good, all knowing, and faithful. A God who called us too respect our leaders. A God who wants us to recognize the fact he is control of our country.
Maybe its a slightly different memory of today, but its one I'm not likely soon to forget. Today was just a Monday, but no Monday is ordinary in the least with this Monday being no exception. I'm not going to the elegant ball tonight, but I'm going to the Marriage supper of the Lamb some day. And that's why this day was one that could be smiled upon.
Two time zones away, over 2,000 miles away there isn't much of party of going on here. I actually even didn't fully realize till checking the morning the paper what was going on today.
Pretty much it has been an ordinary morning. Silent breakfasts, because conversation is for the alert and awake people. Coffee and a little bit more coffee. Get ready, make phone calls, make a web order, nothing terribly exciting to celebrate this day.
The inauguration was not on my mind. Life was on my mind and though this day will probably impact my life in ways I have yet to know I didn't feel the need to just stop and absorb the day.
Until prayer time. Mondays is always the day of sharing of requests and then interceding before the throne on one anothers' behalf. Its a beautiful day of shared burdens and the freedom of going before the throne of grace.
There I was in a small circle of chairs and staring down at a list of requests and tribulations written in black ink and then I saw the time. Miles away at that very moment a man had placed his hand on a Bible to swear an oath to lead our country. Millions watched, but the three of us closed our eyes tight and talked to a God who is, sovereign, good, all knowing, and faithful. A God who called us too respect our leaders. A God who wants us to recognize the fact he is control of our country.
Maybe its a slightly different memory of today, but its one I'm not likely soon to forget. Today was just a Monday, but no Monday is ordinary in the least with this Monday being no exception. I'm not going to the elegant ball tonight, but I'm going to the Marriage supper of the Lamb some day. And that's why this day was one that could be smiled upon.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
snow and coffee
One year ago we didn't go to class because we were having to much fun drinking coffee and playing jokes on each other.
And playing in the snow...lots of playing in the snow.
And taking advantage of the zip line (which I really didn't appreciate, but was forced too anyway)
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Coming Clean
There is something very strange about me that probably to some sounds very, very, odd.
I love green smoothies. I love Brussels Sprouts. On frequent occasion I drink apple cider vinegar (well just a small gulp). I prefer whole wheat bread over white any day and turn up my nose at margarine.
I am very much a health nut.
I was the girl who took spinach quiche to work for lunch and thus received many descriptive comments. Best one "is that something not digested properly by a cow"?
Recently I even made yogurt in little dorm room in a crock pot. Just go ahead and call me Miss Domestic.
Before you think that I am person who eats perfectly healthy every single day, including Thanksgiving, let me just wipe that notion from your brain.
I love freshly fried mozzarella sticks. I love curly fries. I love pizza (I recently ate it almost 5 nights in a row and didn't feel the least bit guilty). I love chips and dip, the cheesy kind of course. I love to put whipped cream on cereal and Pb and banana sandwiches because it just makes me smile and the added fat keeps your fuller. Ahem.
And of course I love ice cream. Its in my gens and I can't help it and yes I will blame my infatuation with ice cream on my family. Whenever a certain aunt and I are together we manage to make it a point to sample ice cream at as many places as possible. My grandma ate a good amount of ice cream and lived a very long and of course a very happy life since she did not deny herself the pleasure of creamy goodness.
However when I've been eating lots of foods that just taste good because they have all sorts of bad things in them I begin to stop liking them. Suddenly all I want is platters full of lush green lettuce. I want to drink smoothies full of homemade yogurt and thus full of good nutrients.
I crave healthiness. Its just something in me that won't go away, no matter how hard I try to stay away from health food. Well true I don't try very hard...
There I have divulged a piece of information about myself and please don't feel that you have to be a health nut to read this blog, because obviously I'm not a health nut.
I'm not sure why I just wrote a long post about food, but maybe its a sign that I should go have some Brussels sprouts and ice cream. Not together of course.
I love green smoothies. I love Brussels Sprouts. On frequent occasion I drink apple cider vinegar (well just a small gulp). I prefer whole wheat bread over white any day and turn up my nose at margarine.
I am very much a health nut.
I was the girl who took spinach quiche to work for lunch and thus received many descriptive comments. Best one "is that something not digested properly by a cow"?
Recently I even made yogurt in little dorm room in a crock pot. Just go ahead and call me Miss Domestic.
Before you think that I am person who eats perfectly healthy every single day, including Thanksgiving, let me just wipe that notion from your brain.
I love freshly fried mozzarella sticks. I love curly fries. I love pizza (I recently ate it almost 5 nights in a row and didn't feel the least bit guilty). I love chips and dip, the cheesy kind of course. I love to put whipped cream on cereal and Pb and banana sandwiches because it just makes me smile and the added fat keeps your fuller. Ahem.
And of course I love ice cream. Its in my gens and I can't help it and yes I will blame my infatuation with ice cream on my family. Whenever a certain aunt and I are together we manage to make it a point to sample ice cream at as many places as possible. My grandma ate a good amount of ice cream and lived a very long and of course a very happy life since she did not deny herself the pleasure of creamy goodness.
However when I've been eating lots of foods that just taste good because they have all sorts of bad things in them I begin to stop liking them. Suddenly all I want is platters full of lush green lettuce. I want to drink smoothies full of homemade yogurt and thus full of good nutrients.
I crave healthiness. Its just something in me that won't go away, no matter how hard I try to stay away from health food. Well true I don't try very hard...
There I have divulged a piece of information about myself and please don't feel that you have to be a health nut to read this blog, because obviously I'm not a health nut.
I'm not sure why I just wrote a long post about food, but maybe its a sign that I should go have some Brussels sprouts and ice cream. Not together of course.
Monday, January 14, 2013
Monday Musings
Trying to spark some breakfast table conversation this morning I asked what everyone was looking forward to about the day.
"Going to Bed" was the reply.
Yep it was a Monday Morning. Sometimes I wonder why Mondays have to be considered so dreadful. It is the day after worship and the second day of a fresh week, yet they are loathed like none other.
I suppose the culprit behind the distaste of Mondays for me at least is discontentment. I do not wish to get up so early. I wish it weren't so cold when I got up. I fancy that I might be happy if I were getting up early to catch a plane to some glorious warm spot by the ocean.
When I get up on Monday life hits me. I still have the same problems as I did before. I still have the same decisions to make. And no matter how hard I try I cannot make myself perfect.
I wonder what would happen if Monday became something other then the day of the after weekend crash.
Monday just like each and every day is a brand new day. A brand new day to see God's grace. To find His grace in the simple things. To experience the joy of being around others.
To do instead of simply being.
Next Monday is coming soon and its going to be a beautiful day to see God's grace.
"Going to Bed" was the reply.
Yep it was a Monday Morning. Sometimes I wonder why Mondays have to be considered so dreadful. It is the day after worship and the second day of a fresh week, yet they are loathed like none other.
I suppose the culprit behind the distaste of Mondays for me at least is discontentment. I do not wish to get up so early. I wish it weren't so cold when I got up. I fancy that I might be happy if I were getting up early to catch a plane to some glorious warm spot by the ocean.
When I get up on Monday life hits me. I still have the same problems as I did before. I still have the same decisions to make. And no matter how hard I try I cannot make myself perfect.
I wonder what would happen if Monday became something other then the day of the after weekend crash.
Monday just like each and every day is a brand new day. A brand new day to see God's grace. To find His grace in the simple things. To experience the joy of being around others.
To do instead of simply being.
Next Monday is coming soon and its going to be a beautiful day to see God's grace.
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Because Life is Sometimes Ugly
I read a blog post this afternoon. Words that left my stomach in knots. Words that made me squirm in my seat and words that brought tears to my eyes.
When I was done reading the world no longer seemed right, but a place awfulness and sin. Lives created by God that are meant to be beautiful are misused. People are made to feel worthless, changed so they do not feel and have no hope.
I'm sitting in a warm comfortable room. I'm safe. I will go to bed tonight and I will be safe. I will get up tomorrow and work a good respectable job. Life is blissful.
Tonight in cities across the USA and across the world, thousands will not be safe. They do not have the comfort of normal life for slavery has bound them tight.
This is a subject that is not for the faint of heart. Not for the young and the innocent, but it is a subject that that must be talked about with maturity and detest for what it is.
Human Trafficking exists. Its ugly, cruel, disgusting, revolting, awful, and whatever gruesome adjective you can use to describe it.
It happens right here in the US as you can read here .
God did not mean for young lives to made ugly. Sin crept in and destroyed every hope of a beautiful life. Human Trafficking is supposed to be done in secret away from prying eyes, but God knows and hates it. There are thousands out there who wonder about this God who allowed their life to be turned into something so vile. We have a task to share with them the love God. Tell them of redemption. Tell them of Hope. Tell them of grace.
January is Human Trafficking awareness month and I'm not even sure what can be done to help. Its a daunting task.Thankfully there are those who aren't just sitting on the couch like me, but are actually working to rescue these people. Read about it here.
And also check out the fascinating work that the Exodus Road is doing. These of course are all just blogs and I don't know enough to say if I can support the ideas of these people a 100%, but I do know there is a problem and something must be done. Even if its just writing a short little blog post.
For now I pray. I pray for those working to rescue these children. I pray for the children themselves. I pray for a world who has made such a mess of things and I praise God for His grace that He so freely gives even to those who feel that their life is worthless.
When I was done reading the world no longer seemed right, but a place awfulness and sin. Lives created by God that are meant to be beautiful are misused. People are made to feel worthless, changed so they do not feel and have no hope.
I'm sitting in a warm comfortable room. I'm safe. I will go to bed tonight and I will be safe. I will get up tomorrow and work a good respectable job. Life is blissful.
Tonight in cities across the USA and across the world, thousands will not be safe. They do not have the comfort of normal life for slavery has bound them tight.
This is a subject that is not for the faint of heart. Not for the young and the innocent, but it is a subject that that must be talked about with maturity and detest for what it is.
Human Trafficking exists. Its ugly, cruel, disgusting, revolting, awful, and whatever gruesome adjective you can use to describe it.
It happens right here in the US as you can read here .
God did not mean for young lives to made ugly. Sin crept in and destroyed every hope of a beautiful life. Human Trafficking is supposed to be done in secret away from prying eyes, but God knows and hates it. There are thousands out there who wonder about this God who allowed their life to be turned into something so vile. We have a task to share with them the love God. Tell them of redemption. Tell them of Hope. Tell them of grace.
January is Human Trafficking awareness month and I'm not even sure what can be done to help. Its a daunting task.Thankfully there are those who aren't just sitting on the couch like me, but are actually working to rescue these people. Read about it here.
And also check out the fascinating work that the Exodus Road is doing. These of course are all just blogs and I don't know enough to say if I can support the ideas of these people a 100%, but I do know there is a problem and something must be done. Even if its just writing a short little blog post.
For now I pray. I pray for those working to rescue these children. I pray for the children themselves. I pray for a world who has made such a mess of things and I praise God for His grace that He so freely gives even to those who feel that their life is worthless.
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Life is beautiful.
Life is beautiful. I know its an old saying perhaps somewhat cliche, but its 3 of my favorite words because life is truly beautiful.
You know you have a beautiful life when you miss the sweet smell of baby soap on a little baby's head.
Life is beautiful when your running like crazy making supper and then through the window you see the rich colors of the setting sun.
Its a beautiful life when a little one snuggles on your lap and asks you to read the same book for the 5th time.
When you eat yummy tacos with friends and just sit around not doing very much there is beauty in the simple fellowship of friends.
When you get that text, e-mail, phone call, from a friend and know that your thought of life beautiful .
Life has ugly scars that cover it, but beauty was made not too exist without pain, but go right long with the pain too turn the hurt into something beautiful.
Christ's scars are the ugliest things ever made by man, yet they are the most beautiful picture of God's grace.
There is beauty in the day, sometimes we just have to stop and look for it. What made your life beautiful today?
You know you have a beautiful life when you miss the sweet smell of baby soap on a little baby's head.
Life is beautiful when your running like crazy making supper and then through the window you see the rich colors of the setting sun.
Its a beautiful life when a little one snuggles on your lap and asks you to read the same book for the 5th time.
When you eat yummy tacos with friends and just sit around not doing very much there is beauty in the simple fellowship of friends.
When you get that text, e-mail, phone call, from a friend and know that your thought of life beautiful .
Life has ugly scars that cover it, but beauty was made not too exist without pain, but go right long with the pain too turn the hurt into something beautiful.
Christ's scars are the ugliest things ever made by man, yet they are the most beautiful picture of God's grace.
There is beauty in the day, sometimes we just have to stop and look for it. What made your life beautiful today?
Thursday, January 3, 2013
A Letter to...Me
Dear Me,
2012 was a grand year. I graduated from college. I made some amazing friends. I made decisions, which do not easily happen for me . I went outside of my own country, and left a piece of my heart there. I became a part of history and voted in our country’s election. I tried new things.
Those are the things I don’t think of first when I think of 2012. Instead I think of all the things I didn’t do or should have done.
2012 is gone, in the history books, scribbled in the pages of my journal, wiped from my memory…well I wish. A new year is here, a fresh start, but the past is still with me. I may be in a new year, but I have brought every thing from 2012 with me and I will carry it with me for the rest of my life.
Mistakes, failures, things not accomplished, things said can haunt my memory or I can choose to see those things as not a pitiful wast of my life, but as lessons learned. I didn’t choose to fail at life, but I can to choose to see the failure as dare I say it…a good thing. 2012 holds regrets and moments of how could I be so insensitive and ridiculous. Those are the things I can either choose to see as a wreck or see as a work of God’s grace. God choosing to use me despite my inability to follow Him completely. The past cannot be changed, but by the grace of God the past does not have to rule my life, but instead can shape me into what God wants me to be.
2013 is upon us. I have made my list of goals (yes I am one of those people). One year from now if God wills 2014 will be here and to be honest it’s a very certain thing that 2013 will have its own regrets.
No I am not planning to fail, but I have tasted the bitterness of life and know how easy it is for life to slap you in the face. The touch of God’s grace is gentle and it is by His grace that I can make the small choice of discipline that applies to so many areas of life. I look into the new year full of hope and joy. Not because of accomplishments I want to happen, but because a faithful God who I know who is going to prune me. It’s a scary adventure, but with the peace of God surrounding me I’m ready for it.
Yours Truely,
Yourself.
P.S.
I wrote this in a coffee shop. I must confess I've never done that before and it made me feel very uh bloggerish.
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