Forget-Me-Not

Oh, the irony that a few weeks ago Eden and I did what we thought was all the planting, only to find we forgot the Forget-Me-Not package of flowers.
Of course being the highly empathetic person I am, I immediately felt horrible for leaving them out and actually forgetting them. Their worst fear is posted on their package and I forgot them.
This realization hit the same day that I was concluding a pilot journal program with a group of fifth graders that I have gotten to know incredibly well over the last year. As I accepted their heartfelt cards and flowers for spending the time with them, I felt like they each had across their own hearts a sign that read, "Forget-Me-Not."
No one wants to be forgotten. We all desire to be remembered.
My step dad is battling cancer right now and you can watch his words and actions around his loved ones and see that he is keeping memories alive, he does not want to be forgotten.
At no age does our desire to be forgotten change. We want to be remembered.
But the harsh reality is that we will all be forgotten unless we are put in the history books as accomplishing something worth remembering.
There is only One who will not forget us. He is the One that gave us the same intuitive appreciation for our own children. I can assure you that as long as I am breathing air I will never forget my own child. He is the same and He will be alive long after the last Memorial Day.
Take comfort and know that you are not a "Forget-Me-Not."

The Noticer, I noticed!

I must confess that I am a critical reader. I notoriously start a book and about a chapter or two into the book I stop reading because the author couldn't keep me hooked. So, if I have gotten to the third or fourth chapter of a book the odds of finishing it go up exponentially.
This past week I got hooked by a book, The Noticer, by Andy Andrews. The idea of the book was simple; passing great advice out through a character that could have clearly been an angel. The advice was the hook. You couldn't wait for the character's next human encounter. Would it be a divorcing couple? A person ready to jump? A dishonest business man trying to get more than he deserved?
And more importantly, what on earth would this guy advise???
He claimed his whole purpose in life was to give others perspective.
I laughed at myself for identifying with the angel and his purpose, seemed a bit too bold. But I do love this blog for that very reason. We all need to be reminded of what really matters and I believe I have had enough go really bad that I can clearly embrace and recognize what goes beautiful, right or good. I hope that I am right in my grand assumption. If you enjoy this blog at all, you might want to check out this book. I am sure the experience and the fact that New York is recognizing Andy Andrews probably means it is worth your time.

Big Girl Pants

I have never once apologized for putting on my big, girl pants.  I never regret it either.

Putting on those pants means I had the courage to apologize, the courage to do something I am terrified of, or forgive someone when I didn’t want to go there.

Big, girl pants are a choice, a beautiful choice that is only chosen when I rise above the petty and go for the gold in character and action.

My big, girl pants have been in my closet for a long time.  I remember putting them on when confronted about my chameleon behavior.  People pleasing, for me, has always been the best defense for keeping the pain of rejection at bay. Frightened of not being considerate of others or a perpetual listening ear led me to a life of putting my own agenda so far back I would be dying having accomplished nothing but meeting everyone else’s needs.  My funeral would have been fabulous, but it would have reflected the bending and stretching of a person at the expense of a life.  Painful to reflect on now, but celebrated to see the power of the big, girl pants and the strength that allows me to love with my whole, complete heart instead of the timid heart afraid of revealing the lifeblood in it.

My big, girl pants become larger each time I wear them.  I find I am more self assured and more comfortable wearing them as I age and learn life’s truth and the Creator of that truth.  That doesn’t mean those pants reflect arrogance, they don’t.  Actually, it is just the opposite… they reflect a quiet humility that demands respect not attention. 

So, as you are doing the spring cleaning and deciding which clothes to throw out; I strongly suggest keeping the big, girl pants!

Mom Moments

I can't think of any Hallmark appointed day that is more honoring to women than Mother's Day.
Where would we be without the women in our lives that told us hard truths or helped us map out our paths?
I could list so many women who have made a huge impact on my life, "mom moments." There have been so many, that I have made it my mission to be one of them.
Julie's mom always kept a toothbrush for me at their house, now I have boxes of unopened toothbrushes for Eden's friends to feel like they are always welcome to stay.
Leah's mom kept ice cream in her freezer because she knew I loved it and came over after school most days. Now, I buy the groceries and keep a stock of treats for the kiddos.

My own mom gave me the hard truth every time I came down the stairs wearing an outfit that made me look bad or sporting a hairstyle that was less than attractive. Those ouch moments kept me from having some really bad pictures in the album. Thanks, Mom.
We all have them. Women who have made a difference in our lives.
Even as an adult I have beautiful women who have kept my sail straight as I weathered some pretty rough storms. Aunt Novella, Aunt Carol, Aunt Tesley, Linda, Sky, Leslie, my grandmother, my mom, Grandma Shirley, Brook, Allison, Christy, Stacey, Andrea, Candice, Tona, Krissy, Amanda, Leah, Megan, Sarah, Pamela, Holly, Jennie, Jennifer, Keil, Kelley, Teri, Kelly, Lauren, Melissa, Sharla, Stephanie, Aunt Trish, Vanesa, Aunt Ruth....to name just a few.
MAY YOU ALL BE HONORED this Mother's Day and all know that "mom moments" are passed down, and around...and most importantly, never forgotten.

Larry's Niece

If you go to any "network" dinner parties you can identify with the scene of hearing people declaring their titles.
"I am the ____________________ of __________________, so nice to meet you."
It is part of our culture, the way we place value on each other and determine some level of importance, really pathetic honestly, but a white collar trend that has stuck.
Well, I found a place those titles are shattered and the ones that really matter are pushed to the forefront....an ER waiting room. Yes, you heard me. You want to see real titles emerge, go to Saint Francis on any given evening and I bet you hear much different titles being thrown out. Titles like brother, mother, daughter...relationship titles, the ones that merit getting a pass to go back to the room.
My uncle had a severe stroke on Tuesday night, so severe that he actually had a Code Blue ringing over the intercom because he quit breathing.
In the waiting room, I was surrounded by my family. I wore the proud title of "niece" as I held my cousin that wore the title of "first born daughter." Our history of being raised through the trail of losing her sister, my mom's multiple marriages, and other family members that have gone before us gave me the honor of holding her tightly after she had just been traumatized by the experience of believing she might lose her dad that evening...a non-repeatable moment.
A moment that echoed the importance of our family titles and experiences. A moment that I was comforted by taking my title so seriously over all of the years. Unless you value those titles, they mean nothing when the storm hits. You are just a stranger with a meaningless title.
Our family values those titles...our family puts them before our professions, our volunteer positions, our church roles...our family understands that if you don't take care of the people God has placed in your family tree than your other titles are really not that valuable.
I am so thankful for that modeling. As I looked around the ER at midnight, I was surrounded by my grandparents, my uncles, my cousins, my mom....
People that placed more value in those roles than their professions, which by the way, could hold their own at any given dinner party.