10 Years Ago Today...

Angels were welcomed Home.
Psalms 121.

May 8, 2011 is Mother's Day

Mom and Me. We just started our lives together. We thought an entire life time was ahead of us. We did start our with lots of promise. Three months after weight loss surgery, because of complications, Mom died. She was 43, and I was just 13. Not quite the entire life time we thought we'd have. Since then, Mother's Day has not always been rose petals, kisses and funny cards. Women who have experienced mother loss, regardless of age, may have feel the same. Below is a piece I've written about my experience with mother loss and Mother's Day.
Another View******Years ago, avoidance of the greeting card aisle near Mother’s Day rivaled my loveless affair with liver and onions. Even as I rushed past the cards, the words, “To My Dear Mother,” screamed at me. As people did their best to pick the most perfect Mother’s Day card, envy, not blood, flowed through my veins. Did they know how blessed they were?
My mother died from yellow liver atrophy almost three months to the day after surgery. She was forty-three. I was thirteen. She was too young to die and I was too young to be left without a mom. Now it was just my dad and me. Even at thirteen, I wondered how we would survive. I hated that my mom never hesitated to spank, yet I would let her spank me a thousand times over if God would bring her back.
My peaceful world was gone. No more ‘girls only’ nights when my dad worked late. We’d drive as far as time and ice cream took us. Laughs and song filled the air. No more would I watch her put on eyeshadow and wonder if I would ever be as pretty.
Mother’s Day soon became just another Sunday without football.
For twenty years, I permitted my mom’s death to be the root of my stumbles. Life moved on, but I lagged behind. I somehow had to learn from her life so I could finally live my own.
I was sick and tired of being sick and tired of not being able to change the past. I had to embrace my mom’s death and move on. God’s word opened that door with Psalms 121 (NIV): I lift up my eyes to the hills-where does my help come from? I knew where to start.
Now, I no longer avoid the Mother’s Day card aisle. Like everyone else, I hunt for the perfect one. How can I not celebrate the woman who introduced me to A & W onion rings while she explained changes a young girl experiences are a celebration? I sign my card with love and tuck it away with the others. Our life together lasted just thirteen years, yet was more valuable than rubies. My mother’s spirit dances within me every second, every minute, every day. I am truly blessed, for I know one day we’ll see each other again. Our laughter and songs will fill the air. Praise God.
©2011

Confirmation

Pastor Rickie Rush, of Inspiring Body of Christ Church, preached a GREAT sermon today. He spoke words I needed to hear again. About success and the kind of person you are.

Success takes time, patience (which I'm not great at) trust and lots of faith. To look unto the hills to see where my help comes from. Hard to do. Yet oh so very true. Success ain't easy--yet can be done. In His time.

And the kind of person you are--just look around at your friends. Really look. Do they run with the chickens or do they soar with the eagles? Granted you love them. And they love you. They've seen YOUR light and were drawn to you. However, do they drain you? Or do they want to soar as high as you do? Or would they rather pet their own backs and say 'tsk-tsk'? I prefer to soar like an eagle.

Eagles are also solitary. What's hard for me at times, is some of my friends won't come along for the ride. They prefer to wave--maybe, that is if they don't tell me what I can or can't do . I know I'll just send them a postcard.

Confirmation today. Indeed. To look to the place where my help does come from.

I am blessed.

Message Mount

Pastor Rickie Rush, of the Inspiring Body of Christ Church, gave a wonderful message today from 1 Peter 4:12-13. It hit me on all cylinders about how we are anointed, yet may not be ready to lead. Our miracle is through the fire, yet when we make it to the fire, we stop. The devil, (who is a liar, by the way) licks his chops. Just preys on you and waits.

The thing is, to go through the fire, builds our character. Our trust in the Only One that matters grows. Our miracle is just right there--and some of us--well, heck, I'll be honest: ME! may think I got it all covered. I'm in control of it.

Wrong.

That's been proven --again-- here in recent times. Put your trust in the Only One that matters. I should really KNOW this already. He brought me through, not me. No matter how much I thought I was the strong one. I looked unto the hills from where my strength really comes (that's Psalms 121).

In the meantime, the sun still shines on this Sunday. Should clean my house--and I will--later. There's time before Desperate Housewives tonight, so got a walk to take and a cat to pet.

He didn't bring me this far to leave me.

I am blessed.