Saturday, May 9, 2015

When Peonies Bloom

I am sharing my post from last June
as a loving tribute and a cherished remembrance
to my mother who passed away on June 7, 2013...
and who I am missing so very deeply this Mother's Day.

I still find myself struggling;
sadness cutting its way deep and hard into my soul;
grief still tying my emotions into an unwelcome knot;
tears spilling at unexpected moments;
memories so clear and sharp as if they happened yesterday.

If you are blessed to be with your mother today,
do me a favor.  
Hug her especially long.
Whisper in her ear how much you love her,
and then look into her eyes and tell her again...and again.

I wish I had one more chance to do just that...

I miss you, Mom.
And I love you with every portion of my heart.

June 9, 2013

God's timing is always perfect ~
even though our minds don't always understand it.
Even though it may be painful to us mere humans.
It stretches us.
Grows us.
Makes us stronger.

Snowflakes make the world slumber.
Rain provides a much needed drink.
Clouds cool the earth.
Sunshine brings the blooms.
All in God's perfect timing.

And every person's life is a story written by God's hand.

As roses and peonies spill into the garden back at her farmhouse,
she sits by her mother's bedside in the nursing home.
Twelve days have passed since her father's entrance into heaven.
Still dazed.
Heavy hearted.
World still reeling.

 Remaining simply and humbly in the hands of God,
clinging to him and surrendering herself to his love,
she is still.
Hands clasped.
Words whispered...
"I love you, Mom."

Uncorking the bottle of memories carried deep in her heart,
floating like a sweet fragrance through her soul...


Up on tiny tiptoes helping her mother hang laundry by the big old lilac bush in the backyard...

   standing shoulder to shoulder with her mother slicing apples for the pot of simmering homemade cinnamon applesauce on the stove...

walking hand in hand with her mother in the warm sand along the lake shore by the old cottage,
searching for ladybugs...

watching her mother help patrons select books at the library ~ her smile a constant jewel...

As the years passed, the moments changed.
She was the one assisting and lending a hand now.

Helping her aging mother apply her always present lipstick after lunch...

guiding her to the bedroom for an afternoon nap...

lifting her from her chair onto unsteady feet,
her smile ever present.

Threads of life woven into a quilt of forever love.

And now,
she bent her head in prayer over her mother's unresponsive, sleeping body.
Praying for release.
Praying for God to take over.
Sitting in the silence of His Presence.
Breathing deep draughts of His Promise.
His peace guarding her heart and pressing close to her mother.

Her hope.
Her song.
 Angels present and hovering near.
Tears fell.
"I will miss you so much, Mom."

I believe in Jehovah God who created the whirling galaxies, the birds soaring in the sky overhead, the endless crashing waves and all that dances within them. I believe in Father of all who knits together life, made in His very own image, in the secret quiet of our beings.
I believe in Jesus Christ, the One with no earthly Father, with the dust of this earth between His toes, and with our names etched onto the palm of His hands, right beneath the nail scars…Who now sits at the Father’s right hand making endless intercession on our behalf. I believe in the stone rolled away, in the Body being raised, in the first fruits of the dead…and us all following soon, very soon.
I believe in the Cross as our only Hope, our only Claim, and our only Foundation. I believe that in the pounding surf of life we have only one thing to cling to: the feet of our Lord, hanging on that tree, His lifeblood flowing down, washing us whiter than snow.
I believe in the Holy Spirit, moving, whispering, indwelling our very skin. I believe in living by the Spirit, walking in the Spirit, and producing fruit in the Spirit…in the Spirit who helps us in our weakness with groanings that can’t be expressed in words.
I believe in the infallibility of the Bible, God’s Word – a sure Word, a pure Word, the only secure Word. I believe the words on those pages are breathed from the very throne room of heaven, are the love letter penned from the heart of the Lover of our souls; a beacon of light for stumbling feet to find sure footing on a dark path.
I believe there is more than believing. There is living what I believe.

~Ann Voskamp

Minutes ticked.
Hours passed.

And when God's timing was perfect,
he swept her mother up in his strong arms and carried her tired body,
to be renewed and refreshed,
through the heavenly gates.
His loving embrace warm and healing.

She joined her beloved husband ~ both now made whole.
Experiencing the incredible joy, beauty, and wonderment of heaven...


“Yet I am always with you;
you hold me by my right hand.
You guide me with your counsel,
and afterward you will take me into glory.
Whom have I in heaven but you?
And earth has nothing I desire besides you.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart
and my portion forever.”
Psalm 72:23-26

God's timing.
Always perfect.
Always beautiful.

She will always remember her mother....and her father....
when the roses and peonies bloom.

~  Eucharisteo  ~

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Wednesday, March 4, 2015

A Place That Beckons

At the beach, life is different. 
Time doesn't move hour to hour but mood to moment. 
We live by currents, plan by the tides, and follow the sun. 
~ Unknown

We are bidding adieu to the bitterly cold, snowy winter.
Not sorry at all to see it in our rear view mirror.
We are packing up our Maizie Grace and escaping someplace warm and happy and comforting.
Someplace that continually beckons our hearts and calls to our souls.
A place that heals.
A place where we feel God's presence in an incredibly tangible way.

We are bagging up our sadness and stress
and dumping it in the trash can on our way out the door.

We are going to quickly adapt to becoming lazy beach bums
with sunburned noses and tangled beach hair;
squinty tan lines around our eyes,
and peeling shoulders;
wearing a fragrance of salty air and suntan oil.

We are going to spend hours gazing at the rolling waves;
doing absolutely nothing but
listen to the tinkling of the shells being pulled back into the ocean
watch sandpipers scurry up and down the beach
drink too many Angry Orchards
read piles of books
walk miles along the coast
watch Maizie explore and discover sandy treasures
 chill out with tanned feet propped up on a porch railing
watch a sherbet colored sun kiss turquoise waves.

We will not think of returning;
only focusing on the present moment with toes sunk deep in the warm, shell strewn sand
with clacking palm trees overhead.

We will tilt our heads together in love.
Walk hand in hand through the surf.
Heave deep sighs of relief.
Relax. Unwind.
Hug, smile, and hug again.

We are going to regroup.
Remember what it's like to laugh again.

Lift our faces to the warmth of God's never failing love...
appreciate how blessed we truly are...
and savor every single moment He gives us.

~  Eucharisteo  ~

Linking to the linky parties on the lower right of my sidebar.