Let us remember

"Our faith would be stronger if we would remember 

what God has done for us in the past. 

For some reason, as humans, we seem to remember 

all the hurts and tragedies of our past, 

but forget the good that has happened. 

“Some saints have very short memories. 

It has been well said that we write our benefits in dust 

and our injuries in marble,

 and it is equally true that we generally inscribe 

our afflictions upon brass,

while the records of the deliverances 

of God are written in water."

C. H. Spurgeon   (from "The Lion & the Bear") 

the other side of Mother's & Father's Day

Mother's & Father's Day is a day of:  struggle,  remorse, and grief for :

• the parent who has lost a child, whether by miscarriage, as a young child or as an adult.  
• the person who wanted to be a mother or father, but could not;  
• the parent  who feels they should have been a better parent;
• the parent whose child is in jail or prison;
• the parent who is estranged from their children;
• the person who gave up her child and wonders where that child is today.
• the woman who aborted her child and wonders how they would look today.
• any person who has lost their loving mother or father. 
• any person who had an emotionally detached or abusive mother and/or father. 

For my husband and I, Mother's Day & Father's Day have been a bittersweet day.
For almost 26 years. 

Why Mother's Day?  Why Father's Day? 

Come . . . take a walk with me.

You are going on a walk with me today! 

What??    Sure you can! 

You don't even have to get off the couch or out of your chair.

Just sit back and enjoy.

I'm excited about this walk

You see . . . . . I'm going to walk down my road for the first time in 5 years! 

I've been so overwhelmed & consumed by fear since my husband was stabbed by a

poacher (not far from my yard) that I have not been out. 

I've become a recluse.
Immobilized.
Trapped in my own house when I'm not at work.

Strange, especially since I'm a lover of nature.
Birdwatching, wildflowers, flower beds, butterflies, trees, clouds, frogs, toads,
the stars are some of my favorite things. 

I'm kind of anxious.
I hope I don't have a panic attack.
I have not even told my husband that I'm going to do this TODAY.
Not sure why.  Maybe for fear I'd back out and have to explain. 

Last night the idea suddenly came to me to take my camera along
and narrate my journey for my family and friends. 
That way I would not FEEL like I was out there walking ALONE.
I'd have all of you with me.  
I believe that was a God idea.

TODAY is the day!
It's my day off
The temperature is 75 degrees
Sun is shining
It's my kind of day . . . .
Well it used to be my kind of day before November 13, 2005

I was able to go out into my own yard and down to the road for the
first time on Monday, August 31, 2009.
Wow!  That's a year ago. 

Yeah!  It's time for the next 'step' in my journey.

My goal is to walk about 3/4 of a mile down the road to the place
where Marvin was stabbed. 

Stand there and thank God for my husband.  For the miracles of that dreadful night. 

I want to be free of the fear of that place TODAY!

A New Year

Another year awaits me.
It's a blank page, an unwalked road.
the pages will read  what I have gained in exchange for time,
or what I find along the way

My resolution is to remember every day
that life is too short for petty things.
That it’s important to kiss slowly, laugh insanely,
love fully, forgive quickly, count my blessings
& look for the unexpected joys purposefully.

Every day! 

You would think that I, of all people, would remember
that life is fragile, unpredictable, and like a vapor can vanish in a moment. 

But even for me, the routine grind and problems of the day
crowd out the important things of life.
It takes great effort to consciously look for the good.

I have to establish reminders. 
Something that reminds me to STOP and consider what blessings were sent my way that day.
Blessings such as when I'm troubled and someone comes along with a smile;
or maybe the breath-taking sunset on the way home.

The Glass Window - in the wee hours of today.

“A glass window stands before us.  We raise our eyes and see the glass; we note its quality, and observe its defects; we speculate on its composition.  Or . . . we look straight through it onto the great prospect of land and sea and the sky beyond.”  Benjamin B Warfield. 

The above phrase suddenly leaped off the web page a few moments ago?  Out of all the pages boringly scrolling by, why this statement? 

Vaguely, as if through a fog, thoughts begin to form.  But what?   Suddenly it hits me.   I remembered the wee hours of today.   

Something that had already receded from my memory . . . . had I not just stumbled across those words by Benjamin Warfield.   

The window?  It’s the reference to the glass window?  Yes!  I remember now.  Thank you Lord, for your reminder. 

The phone!  It’s ringing.  I hear myself crying out loud, “Oh no!  Oh no!”.  I’m sitting straight up in bed, in terror, fumbling in the dark for the phone before I even know I’m awake. 

My parents!  One of them is dead.  Surely it’s not Tammy  - she’s healthy . . . . . . . unless she threw a clot to her lung.  Please no, God, I can’t handle anything more right now.  Please, God!