8 Minutes of Goodbye

There is a video. It is 8 minutes. It ends with the number 8. It was not planned. I think that says a lot!  Well ... ok ... so maybe I am just upset.  It is VERY uncanny, though.

Four Generations

This was a gift to me, to my mother, and most of all to my son ... time with precious Aiden.

High Intensity

Today was spent on the dance/competition floor at Talent on Parade. Miss M had HIGH hopes for placing first in her division and doing another round of Top Stars. Alas, a fourth place scoring prevented that (and we will be learning from the judges' comments for sure as I thought she really was strong)! But you know what I love? She received one of the "Judges' Choice" awards - only 10 in her whole age category.  That means that regardless of scoring, her performance caught the judges' eye and made her stand out.  Her award? HIGH INTENSITY ... She should be VERY proud (I know I am)!

I may have to post photos later of her creative surprise for her grandparents who came to watch the competition.  Let's say it involved a car "paint" marker and the windows of their Cadillac!  I have to laugh.

Blooming

Bloom where you are planted ... that's what they say.  I think "they" are right.  But the key is being planted.

For many years, I have not been completely planted.  I've had the hope of being planted, but one can only flourish in small ways while hope is held at bay.  Proverbs was right ... "Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life." (Proverbs 13:12)

All this rightness is something I've missed for quite some time.  I kept thinking I could catch up, make up, adjust, connect, somehow get right again when my world was right again. But I kept losing my footing along the way, limping in a sometimes-lovely limbo.  But loveliness was a bit of a mirage.

So, I'm planting myself.  I think my dwindling roots had been loose and ready for quite some time.  But hope does not easily let go.  So when the time came, though the pain of change was sharp and hard and reverberating, drawing from rich soil has brought new life.  It's been two months and deep places are reviving from the inside and beginning to spread.  And now?  I'm finally feeling right, too.

Blooming is not without its challenges.  But it is infinitely better than lying dormant.  I think again of Proverbs 13:12 ... Blooming is longing!  And my longings are beginning to find fulfillment.  There is a sense of awe in the air, and I don't want to miss another moment to breathe it in.

So here I am ... before my beautiful Creator ... amazed by the beauty growing from what I thought I had neglected to the point of destruction.  It would have been enough just to breathe, but now I am blooming.

Emerging

This is my son ... nearly 19 years ago.  This is the smile and laughter and light in his eyes that made me so proud to be his mom.  What an amazing experience.  What a frightening experience!  Frightening because this life is developing its first impressions of everything in my care.  I made some mistakes.  But I also did some great things.  And I saw great things in him ... then and now.

As the years went by and some of the mistakes went unnoticed or more mistakes were made in trying to make up for the previous ones, the laughter all but disappeared.  It's been a personal heartache that the laughter changed, that the light in his eyes dimmed, and that he had to experience anything that got in the way of the amazing person God created to emerge into this world.

But I'm humbly changed and thankful and proud.  On his own two feet, he is experiencing not just some hard things ... but recently some wonderful ones as well.  I won't tell his story, but I will publicly say I am proud of him for following his heart.

And as I reflect on motherhood, it makes me reflect on godliness ... makes me want to be closer to God, closer to my children, and a better mother/daughter/friend/sister.  I'm so horribly imperfect and a workaholic and sometimes consumed by just making it through the tough places.  But I have my feet on the path.  And that's a good place to be.

Toeholds and Saplings

Toeholds and saplings ... small but determined holdings.

Sunday I felt a toehold in my soul and it was the sunshine of my day.  Then Sunday night it seemed as if all was demolished.  Like the day in the Secret Garden when we felled these trees and cleaned the branches.  Before you knew it, the slender branches and trunks were lying in piles.  The "destruction" was quick ... but it was a good thing.

They had been taken from areas where they were intruding, laid to the ground, stripped and sectioned ... ready to be used.  These beautiful and bare branches just hours before reaching to the sky but draining the soil where the grew wild were now the building blocks of restoration and design.

They were put up, taken down, reworked, redesigned, and after all the prototypes were built and torn down, found their place in the project as the centerpiece of serenity adorned with art.

Tonight that sunshine moment started to peek through again.  That toehold in my soul which was the first glimmer after months wasn't extinguished long.  And even if it was torn down in repeated swaths of broken hearts around me, it is an opportunity to prepare the fallen ... to clean and make beautifully bare these new building blocks life created from the things that were growing where they were never meant to grow.

It's like beauty from ashes.  Maybe my life will be a picture of this ... and end up in the centerpiece of a clever, efficient design bearing the artwork of many hands and bringing serenity to the future.

Shattered

I love how when I was in England, people used the word "shattered" to describe being exhausted. Such a descriptive word!

Today, I am shattered ... but not without hope.  I don't think I've ever had more happen in 24 hours EVER in my life.  (Well, a couple things come close in extremes - but nothing in sheer amount combined with extremes!)  I have to admit it makes me reach back into the ministry days and think that I must be doing something right to have this much chaos erupt.  I don't know if that's solid thinking any more - I'd have to go study again - and right now, I'm too shattered.

I remember my grandmother's poem ... One Shattered Splinter.  In the poem, she receives a gift from God (a crystal cup?) and because it wasn't what she wanted or expected, throws it down into shattered splinters.  After realizing what she had done, she picked up a splinter and began to write. I'll have to find that and post it.

Photo from Havering Park in the Secret Garden with Imogen Heap, Clear Village and the Garden Angels.

Heartstrings

My mind goes back to the "heartstrings" display at Living Arts in Tulsa.  I wish I had a full view photo that did it justice!  A series of suspended frames held these "heartstrings" where motion was initiated by tweets containing either "heart" or "love" (I can't remember which) where a brief opening appeared and then closed again.

I look over my life and see these myself responding to life as it unfolds ... sometimes subject to the whims around me, briefly opening and closing to the opportunities that come my way.  I probably shouldn't look back too much.  I wonder about the "what if" too much.

When my heartstrings are touched, I usually cry.  Good, bad, inspiring, significant ... my heart is moved and tears come.  And I do love that.  But I wish I could just make sure it is all orchestrated well!  Things move both slower and faster than I would like.  I am at once impatient and dragging my feet!

I wonder if my role right now is just to yield to life, to open my heart, to breathe in the beauty around me.  Moment by moment I can.

Coming up for air ...

1-2-3 ... ready ... breathe!  I'm never good about coming up for air in real life, but I'm going to make myself take a moment to do so.  Thanks to social media and other mobile technology, my family should at least know I'm alive!

The work roller coaster is approaching the crest and I'm about to go on a wild ride for a few months.  My eyes are crossing as my to-do lists are getting longer.  And not always so sure I'm on top of the big changes in my personal life.  *SIGH*  I've even taken to writing lists on my windows with whiteboard markers.

All those creative endeavors I was so sure I would lean on for expression while changing course are mostly lying at the wayside ... writing, photography, music, paper making, useful DIY projects (like making my own laundry detergent and essential oil dryer sheets), even just basic scrapbooking (I have TUBS and TUBS of memorabilia I need to commemorate somehow) all just make me feel tired, and thus they lie undone.

Even now, as much as I feel like I should be writing something significant, I'm mostly doing this so I can uncross my eyes and come at my monster work project again with clearer vision.  And yet, maybe that's my lesson.

I need to come up for air (and sleeping doesn't count)!

Silence and Apologies

To my family whom I dearly love ... I apologize for my holiday silences.  It will be better (soon, I hope).  Thank you to those who have reached out to me - even if I haven't responded (yet).

Happy New Year (by definition)

Here's hoping ... sigh ... the New Year hasn't seemed all bright and shiny or even festive yet.

This morning at church, a great emphasis was placed on the word "new" and the message was largely about fasting (before we launch into our 21 day fast - giving up something natural in pursuit of something supernatural).  By the end of the service, the hole in my heart wasn't throbbing as bad as it was when I arrived.

By definition, "NEW" means "taking the place of one that came before."  That would probably be an understatement this year.  2012 is new. It's taking the place of 2011.  But there is much else that qualifies as "new." New relational status. New home. New family dynamic. New questions. New pursuits (or the lack thereof).

What I don't know is what exactly will take the place of "one that came before" in most anything in my life right now.

Holiday Spirit

I'm trying! It just doesn't seem like the Christmas season yet ... so when I had an extra 15 minutes after errands while Miss M was at dance class, I went to Rhema to see the lights.  Thankfully, my camera was in the trunk, so I played for a while.  I even tried to create a makeshift bokeh frame out of my drink cover.  Have you ever tried to purposely rip a heart shape into plastic? Not easy! I'll have to go back with a better creation.

In the meantime, I have been thinking about symbolic things ... anything to give a frame to my thoughts or feelings or place in life.  Tonight it's the unfocused but "new focused" interest that can be found by looking beyond the space between me and my environment.

There's more to a scene than what I can see in front of me.
There's more to my environment than what I can focus on.
There's more to my life than what I can carve out of my own efforts.
Somehow ... I want to get my focus off of me, off of the things around me, and set it so far past it all that a new picture appears ...
Something new, different, patterned with possibility, intersecting with inspiration, hinting toward a horizon ripe for discovery.

Maybe this will be my bokeh holiday ... looking past, focusing beyond myself, and finding new beauty.

Glances

I glance her way and get a glimpse of dimensional time.  I absorb a present moment different than I've known before.  I see a flash of her future and a flashback of my past.  I see her beauty and wonder how I missed the  the time that turned her into a young woman.

One Moment Danced ...

My little one is growing up. She's becoming a young lady and a beautiful performer. I may need to do a series of photos just from her years in the Nutcracker!

And I do want to gripe just a bit.  I brought my camera to the performance hoping I'd hear those magic words: "No flash photography."  And I did!  Those words are my magic because I do NOT use flash (and truly hate it when all cameras are penalized because of those who).  So when I hear that, it's equal to saying, "Go ahead! Take all the photos you want as long as you don't use flash."

There was one lady evidently with the production (she had a name tag, but I couldn't read the name) who REALLY DID NOT LIKE ME taking those photos.  But far beyond me, she made quite the scene ... kept turning around, glaring, and giving very loud "SHHHH"s and even imitating me by saying something ... I heard "CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!" being uttered between other loud whispers I tried to ignore.  It's one thing when a camera makes a natural noise, and completely another when a human imitates, shushes, stares, glares, and turns around constantly.

I'm guessing it's people like her who are behind all the "NO _____" rules.  I would like to say that I am also not obtrusive like some can be (and I've heard used as a reason why cameras aren't allowed) ... I just sit in my seat and capture what I can.  Why?  Because of the above.  This is how I experience these things best - behind a lens, making memories for my loved ones and me to share.

Trust

Trust erodes and corrodes when lives are in limbo.  Hope deferred makes the heart sick.

Water and oxygen ... two elements necessary for life are also two elements that can deteriorate iron.  I'm intrigued.  I'm especially interested in the picture it gives of rusted out life.  Iron is so amazingly strong, yet these two elements which are life-giving (and which also do not harm iron separately) can simply by being present over time completely consume iron!

Walls and gates can lose their strength and no longer fulfill their purpose.  So too when trust erodes.  What once was strong or should be a strength is simply being eaten away.

As I think about my biggest missteps in life, it all goes back to trust.  I trusted too easily.

Mistakes and trust ... I made mistakes. I lost trust in myself.  And that was my first big mistake.

But I don't really want to reflect on the past.  I'm thinking about how limbo erodes trust.

Definitions of trust (n)

trust [ trust ]   

1. reliance: confidence in and reliance on good qualities, especially fairness, truth, honor, or ability
2. position of obligation: the position of somebody who is expected by others to behave responsibly or honorably
3. hope for future: hopeful reliance on what will happen in the future

Here is where I have made missteps ... at least with people and with myself.  I have had hopeful reliance on what will happen in the future.  And I have even had such confidence that I have made life changes in the expectation of those good things happening.  But what happens when that hope is unfulfilled?  It makes me think of Proverbs 13:12.  "Hope deferred makes the heart sick ..."

And I found an interesting version on bible.cc about the verse from the Bible in Basic English:  "Hope put off is a weariness to the heart; but when what is desired comes, it is a tree of life."

I am weary.  I am worn.  My heart is weary to the point that I once again don't know what to trust.  I feel too weak to trust myself.  Too weak to trust myself to hear truth.  I want that tree of life to grow strong.

It's amazing what we trust versus what we do not trust.  I trust my BlackBerry but not my heart.  If I can ever "get it right" in that department, I would be on my way to conquering the world.

Laughter

Always a welcome sound ... laughter was a big part of a rousing game of horseshoes with Uncle James at grandma and grandpa's house in Kansas.  (And even though I couldn't capture the action clearly, I still love this photo!)

Winds 'n Roses

(Oops! I edited and published something quite old and thought it would retain the original date. Oh well!)

Exhausted, I lie here sleepless, listening to the wind. My thoughts drift and swirl like the sounds dancing outside my window.  They say a storm is coming. Knowing this makes the wind sound different. I listen a little closer. I hear a threat and a howl. I wonder what will happen ... if we will be prepared, protected.

But as I contemplate, I remember that wind is what one waits for when wanting to fly a kite. I remember that wind carries seeds to perpetuate new growth. I remember that sails were meant to catch the wind and propel a vessel.

So I wonder in a metaphor of life ... what am I holding to the wind? I realize that I feel fragile. What I hold is more like a flower than something destined for flight. I think maybe I have wrapped my wings around myself and they have become soft like petals. I imagine myself as a flower in the wind.  And I worry that the delicate layers will be quickly stripped and my hopes now folded and soft will have been dashed.

I write and let the wondering thoughts wash over me ... Silly me. I know that just as it would make no sense to display a boquet in a windstorm, it also makes no sense to try and fly a kite indoors. Both will result in some kind of destruction! There's a time and place for everything.

Nurture the fragile. Launch the bold.

Turning Entanglement To Art

Sometimes life is bland and flat ... other times it's a tangled mess ... it can be a party ... or it can be the residue from others that is left for me to clean up.  It can look like nothing or an intricate maze.  What makes life beautiful? Perspective.

Maybe my life is all tangled.
Maybe the bright splashes are to be celebrated instead of figured out.
Maybe daily life is a slab of ordinary underneath everything.
But it could be that if I look closer, maybe it's art.

I'm considering adopting a new motto:  Never untangle ... find the beauty.

Howl

And so she performs ... the "wolf" performing to Howl (by Florence + the Machine).  She loved the drama of this dance!  It was a tough competition this year (the younger girls didn't place) but it's only the first.  Here we go!

Black Light Special

As we stood in line waiting for our turn on the Rockin' Rollercoaster, we heard the announcement, "This ride DOES go upside down." M's head whipped around toward me and her eyes were HUGE! I had just told her that I didn't think it went upside down - at least I didn't remember that it did. It was the one thing that would have prevented her from going. She did NOT want to go upside down!

I couldn't help but laugh and asked what she wanted to do. She was torn. The event had been built so high in her mind that she didn't want to NOT go. And she kept commenting about how her brother would be proud of her if she rode it.

And so we rode ... 3 times!

Screams and laughter were part every round. She was positively glowing (and not just from the black lights in the ride)! I'm glad my memory failed me. It helped Miss M become a coaster lover! Now THAT'S special.