Have a dressed up day!

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Wonder why we have to die?

He walks around the room with notepad and pen in hand.  Yesterday this same pad and pencil was in the pocket of his shirt.  American Girl glasses were on his face and he was Clark Kent.

I said lots of

Superman, help!

until it became old and tiring but that little face looked so sweet with those small glasses that I just kept right on dying over and over while Superman fought the bad guys that had killed me. 

Wonder why I had to die everytime?

But today he is walking around giving everyone a piece of this same notepad. 

They all look like this.

And he says this,

Mommy, dis is you coss.

The cross.  Two trees together to crucify my Jesus.  My Jesus - the purpose of my existanceMy purpose to reflect the glory of Jesus Christ.

"Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." - Matthew 10:39

All that make-believe dying?  It is a game.  But what is real is my body and my heart and my mind created to make Jesus look as great as He really is. 

And I only had to die once.  And it was when I began to live.

My son draws a cross.

He doesn't give us papers with trucks drawn, or kitties, or even Superman emblems.  And those are his favorite things.

But he gives us crosses.

Because he is beginning to understand the importance?

Because he is listening when I think he isn't?

Because he overlooks the confusion that he must feel when I say the opposite of what I do? 

Because Jesus speaks louder than me.

And there is nothing without God.

 "It was becoming clear that Jesus' death on the cross had achieved two things: It showed me the way to live and it showed me the way to die."  Clive Calver

Tuesday, July 5, 2011


I'm an interior designer.  At least I used to be, in what seems like a lifetime ago.

There's one thing I feel is a must.  Ok, Sandra, two - odd numbers, not even.

Every room, with few exceptions, needs a little black.

Apparently my son agrees. 'Cause a while back he gave my family room brick and front door a makeover.

Like mother, like son.

... _ _ _ ...

Monday, July 4, 2011

One Thousand Gifts . . . All At Once

Some of you are looking for words.  I have words - lots of words - but these last few months they have all been between my Father and me.

It was just a normal day back in April when I moved in and out of awareness, hearing Izzy's words to 911, but only being able to talk to God.  And isn't He all we need?  We talked about her little heart and how brave she sounded.  The lack of fear and the assurance that all those that I love would be taken care of is too expansive to merely put into words on this screen.

Salvation brings many kinds of peace.

These last few months I have latched onto that peace and calmness and assurance even tighter as I have hung on to faith in His plans. 

And I've mostly done it quietly. 

So many have prayed.  Words like mass and pre-cancerous cells seem to make us call upon Him more often and louder and more desperate?

I'm really not brave.  Maybe that's why I have been silent on this little space of words?

So that you wouldn't see?

Thoughts of a beautiful heaven and home with Jesus struggling with the thoughts that I don't want to go there yet. I don't want to be sick and hurting. I don't want that struggle.

I don't think my work is done and those I love still need me but who am I to question the All-Knowing?  The giver and taker of life.

And moments of struggles and desperate prayers and cries of fear and the unknown clashed with this steady peace that is hard to explain. 

Clashing like cleansing waves on rough rocks for they don't belong to a child of the Almighty King.

But it is a child that I am.  A child with moments of more fear than faith?  But more peace than worry.

And can I tell you of a miracle? 

Softball size and thickening of the lining and most assuredly pre-cancer are just words. 

This is behind me now and they were just words. 

I recoup from this surgery and find myself forgetting to remember to thank.  Life is already in the way of my remembering His comfort and promise of peace and healing.

And His delivering.

So I stop and thank.

Drawing of me losing my cool courtesy of budding artist, Izzy.

Have a dressed up day!

. . . put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. Colossians 3:12