Well done

Have we come to the end of a story, where tears fall and we cry for the lost?

I take a step back and I survey the land I look to my family and I say, this is not so.

When one life passes it is not a loss, when their hearts are with the Almighty it is a gain.

My heart is sad, yes for the smile that is not here, but what a selfish thought for just me.

So many stories of family I have heard from her, of every kind, over and over.

Now it is my time to add to these stories of my family and ours.

But don't be surprised if you come to visit that rocks may  have found their way inside our home.

Grandma, nay, this whole family has a slight obsession with rocks I believe.

But honestly, this does not surprise me. For Christ was the solid rock on which she stood, all other ground was sinking sand.

He was the Rock of Ages a cleft for her, and she would often hide herself in Him. And as it turns out, she also hid rocks inside the house.

She saw God in His own creation, she saw Jesus in others. She loved and she laughed, she was silly and talented, all of this and so much more. To me, she was the complete package. I desire to be half the woman she was. What a model for my children, what a legacy to carry on.

For a weary soul who has yearned for her Father for a warrior who's battle has been won, I say to you  Grandma, well done.

Matthew 25:21New King James Version (NKJV)

21 His lord said to him, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant; you were faithful over a few things, I will make you ruler over many things. Enter into the joy of your lord.’

treasures

She opened the door slowly, the one that she had gone through probably hundreds of times in the course of her childhood. The familiar smells lingered in the air at the old farm house; the grass, the dirt road, mesquite trees and the wind blowing the warm Texas sun. At night you could stare at the sky and imagine you were there among them. If she closed her eyes she whisked herself back to her childhood visits with her Grandparents. To the times when the house was full of visiting family chatting about their travels and the latest news while the kids explored the wild outdoors that awaited them.   It was the kind of place where you felt like you had been taken to another time and place.

She blinked and realized that so many years had passed through her fingers, like sand. But unlike sand that is so small and fleeting and leaves you with an empty hand, the years that had passed had left her with treasures. Just like treasures they were hidden, and needed to be sought out. There was plenty of sadness through the years to be had as well. There were friends that had come and gone and many a dear family member that had passed, but there was gain if she chose to look for and pursue it.

Standing in the open living room that had been lovingly and creatively designed by her Grandparents, she thought about all the places they had traveled to. The pictures on the walls were like time capsules, waiting to be opened. She had heard stories of Scotland, Hawaii, Guam and adventures on ships and some from the farm. It had been a few years since her Grandpa had passed and the shadow of her Grandma was like a delicate lace, needing to be care for ever so gently.  Stories lingered in the hallway, along the walls, in the rafters and in each corner of the old house waiting to be sought out. The memories, the life of the house was there wanting to be lived over again.

She has warmed the house now, with her own family while she cares for her Grandmother. The stories have begun again and are being reborn. Like a web being tacked to the rafters and catching those who pass by. There are new memories being made and set in motion. Like a sunrise and a sunset at the same time. There are so many memories to be shared and made in the old farm house. She had reflected in a moment what had taken a lifetime to learn, how much family truly needs one another. That God had created us for each other. She needed to carry the heritage of the family like a treasure and share it with her own.

It is right to let the sun set but it is even more important to rise with the dawn of a new day and to take in all the treasures that are awaiting you that day.  To find the treasures in life is a gift that we should all seek out through our heritage, through our family. And if this is something that seems out of your reach,, then make a choice to spin your own memories, with your own family. Heritage, memories, families are treasures. If life is sifting through your fingers, make sure you don’t let the treasures slip away.

windows

If only I could see what you see and understand..
to give you back for a moment what was lost...
nay..taken from you.

If I could paint a picture for you
or play a tune that would bring it all back for you,
I would..over and over.

Your eyes, those tiny windows
I pray they not close before it is their time
to see all they are meant to see,
And be seen by.

His grace and mercy are your comfort
and blanket you.
His peace surrounds you
and it never leaves you.

May I strive to be the woman you are,
strong in spirit..
although now..weak in an earthly vesel.

quiet

Such a quiet face
A smile hidden just beneath the surface

Bright eyes that laugh
but just a little

Words that float into the air
but fall to the ground

Laughter ebbs and flows when it wills
Tired eyes play the game of hide and seek

Things lost

She quietly and slowly shuffles to the living room...

her great grandaughter notices her and desires to help out
and asks what she needs...

and in a raspy voice Great-Grandma replies
"I am looking for my voice"

The Journey

The night is young and the house is quiet
She lay in her bed asleep

Does she know the day, the hour, the season

The minutes and days
they all become one

It is a journey that's been prolonged and the end is never warned

She continues forward the best she can as the past becomes her today

If only there was a map, we could set a course

Then maybe the waters would not be so rocky

But since this is not the case...I will walk the journey with her.

Lord, help me not become weary

And when I am..help me rely on You

Dusk

Whispers of prayers are spoken in the night
from inside the heart
Where and when no one hears

There are no tears
Only an island, a ship on the open ocean
a solitary bird floating on the wind

Who knows the pain
shares the grief

Is it spoken
Is it held inside

It is not like a flower that grows
But a weariness that lurks on the doorstep
keeping your senses alive in the dark