Soaring and Stillness: Life with the Chickadees

My girls are missing a piece of their heart and this week  I am struggling with how to help them heal.  The mother in me aches to be able to put it right. I cannot . We've done okay with the whole grieving process thing, due in part to the sheer amplitude of our schedule. I think, each in our own way,  we have worked to layer over the pain with activity. That was working well.  Our ability to falsely cope and carry on with our lives was astonishing. Sigh. Back in September, when we lost our gir l, we cried, we did the silent sobs, we knew in our hearts that it was for the best, and we trusted that God's hand was in and over the entire situation. We still believe all of those things. We do...with every part of us. It's the empty without her that causes the pain. The way her face pops up on Facebook and Skype and the sweet tone of her voice coming from Little Bit's iPod on the nights when all she desires is to reach out and touch the computer screen and have ...

My friends over at (in)Courage are putting together an amazing conference that we all can attend! SQUEAL Imagine it, friends, a low cost, available to anyone who has internet connectivity conference ....a place to come together and learn, grow, feel...all from the comfort of your own couch or perhaps along with a group of other women in your community. A conference unlike any other done before, and created especially with you in mind. I'm attending. As soon as I hit post, I'm heading over here to register on the (in)RL site ; it's  only ten dollars!!!  I'm so excited about it, I'm even planning on sponsoring a few others who might not be able to otherwise join us. Hint: Giveaway coming....stay tuned for details below. Unlike other major conferences that some of us cannot afford to attend that occur around the country, (in)Courage and Dayspring are bringing this one right to us...a way to connect, to create community, to expand our world. I promise you th...

Today I'm joining my friend The Gypsy Mama for five minutes where I'll write without editing, backtracking, or second guessing.  Writing because it brings me joy.  Five minutes to share, to unite, to process our hearts. Just five minutes.  Ready...Set...Go! Grit  is the sand that smooths us, refines us, changes our hearts and our ways. Uncomfortable? YES.   Easy? One loud, emphatic NO.  But necessary .  My God uses the grit in my life to shape me into the woman, the mother, the wife and friend he desires me to be. I don't enjoy the dirty, the pain, the scratch of being made into a new creation. I want to stay the same... but don't we all?  It is oh-so-much easier to maintain than it is to change. But if I never go through the fire, I cannot become the masterpiece He   has chosen to make of me.   I want to become the transparent, beautiful glass that is formed when heat and sand meet...I want to reflect Him well. I ca...

It's a crazy week around here; I feel like all I do is pack, unpack, repack and then pack again. Notice a theme? So, with that said, I'd like to hear about your week and ask how I might be in prayer for you over the weekend.  What's going well and what is heavy on your heart?  How may I love you? Let's come together and pray for each other...leave a request in the comments and know that it will be lifted up. Let's further knit this community together, one request at a time. Love to you, friends.

Today I'm joining my friend The Gypsy Mama for five minutes where I'll write without editing, backtracking, or second guessing.  Writing because it brings me joy. Peace...and delight , which just happens to be the topic. Smile.  I know I'm a few days late, but we  traveled  again all weekend and I wanted to make sure I was here today with all of you, so.... Ready...Set...Go! Delight . She's the feeling that bubbles from deep inside and wiggles and tickles until it bursts forth into a grin on your face or light in your eyes. She arrives when I'm snuggling my little loves close, knowing that each moment is to be treasured and tucked away, because this time is fleeting. She fills me when I watch my girls pursuing their passions. Slender fingers on white and black keys learning intricate fingering, or toes pointed and legs extended in leaps that are gravity defying.  My heart  grows bigger as their worlds expand. I find her in the most unlikely...

"A dream doesn't become reality through magic; it takes sweat, determination and hard work." -Colin Powell We've always taught the chicks that anything worth going after takes effort.  Sweat Determination Hard Work We spend hours a day schooling and just as many dancing. We believe that education comes second to faith and family, and the girls know that we expect the same effort in school that they put forth on the wooden floors. We're not the homeschoolers who do a little school and a whole lot of everything else. It's college prep curriculum in the nest. Both girls are incredibly high achievers who excel in their studies and work above grade level. We don't twirl until the equations are finished and the Latin is memorized. I loved  to learn. I still do.  I want them to hunger for it in the same way and work to instill it in those sweet little bodies. Our Little Bit fully embraces this philosophy. She wakes early and eagerly...

I love you. I grew up ending most communications with an I love you . It was never route. Always intentional. Mom taught me that when you care about someone you should tell them. So, every phone conversation with my travelling dad ended in those three little words. Mom said we should never miss an opportunity. To this day, I end calls and text conversations with those I care about in exactly the same way. I love you. When we first began dating, the professor always shook his head in wonderment as I called home to check in and then closed the conversation with a quick, "I'll be home on time, I promise. I love you!" After a few months of looking at me like I was an alien, I asked him what was so weird about those words I uttered.  "Nothing," he said, "I just don't get why you tell each other." I was incredibly puzzled and then broached a question that would teach me much about the man I would someday marry..."Don't you tell you...

Dear Grace Girl, Twelve years ago we welcomed you into our world. Twelve years.... Days of laughter, frustration, watching you grow and growing alongside you as a woman and a mother. Learning your cries and glances and smiles. Getting to know you. Beautiful YOU With a spirit of determination that develops seemingly daily. Your strength astonishes me....You're unique. You move to the beat of your own drummer and have learned this year that the crowd isn't so interesting. I'm in awe of the depth of your passions and of the ways you work to make dreams become reality. It has been my privilege to watch you face opposition and show Christ to others, in your word and response and deed. Your heart is lovely. Truly lovely . Never let anyone or thing change it...except to make it bigger. Never fear being stretched. It's what makes you grow. You've lived more in this year than I did in decades. I was awkward and duckling-like at your age, and you? YOU  ar...

Sometimes having a heart full isn't easy. Carrying and learning and stretching... It causes an ache Today my heart is full. Full for my  friend that will sit and lie and undergo tests that will measure progression of something she has little control over. She remains fully in the light  and shines so brightly. But my heart? It's full of her, those sweet boys that remind me of my girls, and her husband who captures beauty. Her voice and spirit are strong...I'm the one coming all apart reading her script and seeing more in photographs than is there. Eyes overflow as I read another friend's words, her beautiful acceptance of the way things are and the wistfulness of what has been. Sitting in a wooden chair in the hallway at one of our three dance studios while my Little Bit takes class, tears slide down my cheeks. Knowing a pain like hers, seeing my girls in hers. The sweetness of their hearts...knowing that her thoughts will slide to them, to the future, to the...

The view from the school room this evening O contemplate the heavens! When as the vein-drawn day dies pale,   In every season, every place, gaze through their every veil?  With love that has not speech for need!  Beneath their solemn beauty is a mystery infinite:  If winter hue them like a pall, or if the summer night  Fantasy them starre brede. -Victor Hugo  

Five minute Friday is here...I'm joining my friend The Gypsy Mama for five minutes where I'll write without editing, backtracking, or second guessing.   Today's topic?   Real. Ready...Set...Go! Real  is what I am at home, when the doors close and the world cannot see me. It's the wince as I get in and out of the car parked in a spot reserved with a blue background and white symbol.  It is in the sigh of frustration of not being able to open a bottle without leaning over and holding it between my feet so I can twist a cap. Real is in the little moments of my life that I am often  capable  of shielding from the world. Most people don't like it, the real. They pretend it doesn't exist. They don't want it to. Real is messy and painful and oh-so-honest. I prefer truth. The more years I'm given the easier it is to accept myself where I'm at and be okay with who I'm being made into every day. I'm just not sure that someone else will...

Today is glorious. Blue skies with no hint of clouds. The rain of yesterday shows no trace, no puddles remain. Sun kisses my head and my just-toweled hair blows in the breeze created when windows of the vehicle are open wide. Heart filling sunshine. In working on an attitude adjustment as I flew out of the house to take the girls to piano so I could elliptical at the same time  and then on to six dance classes which don't end until 9 tonight, my outlook was stormy.  So was my attitude. I didn't like me. I'm sure the chicks we're being kind in their tolerance. Then, the warmth of the car urged me to open the windows. The open windows created a breeze. The wind made my eyes turn heavenward.  In that moment? So did my heart. In the moments of silence which is how I ride in the those brief moments the girls aren't accompanying me  a song filled my ears. Old, treasured, sung note-for-note as I would've decades ago in choir... For the Be...

I grew up in a large metro area in the mitten.  We then moved toward the beach with all of it's ah glorious sand and sky  moments. Four years later? Back to the mitten. Then we flew south. We'd lived under the dividing line when we'd done the Charleston years. I was a believer in warmth and hospitality. I even owned a frame that had a pineapple on it. I decided this time I'd become a rebel and forego the accent and sweet-tea.  I was not prepared for the culture shock that would assault our family.  I thought we'd done this before, it would be easy and we'd be accepted because our new area was practically a transplant/retirement zone anyway.  I thought  it would be a piece of cake. I was mistaken . We moved in, got the big kiddo registered in the local public school Little Bit wasn't school aged yet , found a pediatrician, a dance studio, and began looking for a church. We attended every neighborhood and work related get-together and went to the subd...