Soaring and Stillness: Life with the Chickadees

I’ve deeply wrestled lately with identity and purpose.  I believe I’m prepared for the road. I’ve diligently studied the map. But then, BAM, there is an unexpected turn or I encounter brambles that pull and tear at my clothing. Here, in the unknown, I turn into a frazzled, frustrated mess questioning each inch of the cartography.  “Why am I doing this?” “Is it even worth it to continue?” “Why is no one here to help me?” “Where am I actually headed?” I’ve long sought to teach the chickadees that there is a great difference between desire and purpose and that is normal and acceptable to question. Doing what we want to do  is incredibly different than doing what we are called to do. For small humans, it is remarkably easy to redirect the want for the should. It might have taken some extra persuasion, but generally those beautiful, big, soulful eyes showed agreement and little hands slipped inside of mine and we fairly easily continued down a path. They grew, and heels d...

I sit here as the rain spatters the windshield, tucked in a fleece, dreaming of a warm fire at home. I'd know those legs anywhere, but I've never quite studied them as I'm doing now. Slender, tiny, able to reach great heights; feet that seem unnaturally flexible in form. Tonight, in the silence, I'm taken aback by how small they look next to everyone else's--black jazz pants in a sea of pink tights. Much like her wardrobe, those legs set her apart. How long has it been since I've simply watched her feet? Forced to see from a new perspective, I gain a sense of the reasons they peel, bruise, ache; with heels on releve, arches formed, toes perfectly pointed she puts them through their paces. I briefly catch a glimpse of a face in concentration as she stretches deeply. After almost eight straight hours she must be ready to finish. Never does she slow or falter,in each movement completed she offers nothing but precision. Her work ethic astounds me. A text com...

In the last few months, I've bitten off  a bit more than I can chew. Between homeschooling in both the seventh and third grades, two new dance studios, piano and tumbling lessons, the house, a work project, a new puppy and then ahem  re-landscaping the house last week, I've gone a bit coo-coo-la-choo. I'm behind on the normal, my inbox is a disaster, and my time here has slowed. Not a new  occurrence for me . I enjoy challenge. I go full throttle. I realize exceed my limitations. Of the heart Of the body Of the spirit I'm a work-in-progress.  I know that . It seems that my online friends seem to have quite the insight; I've received sweet words of encouragement that lift my heart. Perhaps I'm learning the art of transparency. Here in these words ,  I'm finding freedom. In sharing the truth of my story, I'm giving myself permission to be me,  just as I am. Just as He intended me to be. I am incredibly thankful to all of you for ...

...He's One Great God. So thankful for a Savior whose love echoes around the world and back.

Where are my thoughts today? Am I stressing over preparations, schedules, kids, work? Where is my focus? Is it inward or am I striving to be a light? What is the condition of my heart? Am I taking the time to cultivate relationships with others? I've been asking myself these three questions every morning before I rustle the sheets and exit the covers. In the time between my eyes starting to flutter open and the pulling on of my sneakers, I'm working on being heart  intentional. I've found that it's not enough lately to simply pray before I rise...my thoughts are too scattered with the day scrolling behind my lids. I have to give it all to Him... He knows my needs, my plans, my hopes.  He was there first. He created and gave me this beautiful life that I am so very privileged to experience. I do not take that lightly.  I do sometimes lack in the remembrance of giving it all back to Him.  I tend to take and hold on tightly, rather ...

Her maturity astounds me. How this girl woman at the most unexpected of times shows me how to accept what seems unthinkable and unfair and cruel. Her arms wrap all the way around me, the cap of her hair no longer nestled at my chin but at my high cheekbone. No tears are shed. Her sister, a wisp of a lass, sobs when I break the news. My grace girl?  She envelopes the little in her chest and repeats what I am already murmuring..."I'm so sorry, sweet pea, so sorry...we'll find something else, we'll make it alright... He'll make it work out the way it is supposed to..." I believe it. I believe that there is a bigger plan in place in our lives. I know I am not privy to all of the details. I trust, most times, blindly. I incorporate the trust, the belief, the letting go into my life and consequently theirs. Faith. Not that things are all going to turn out rosy, but that they'll turn out according to His plan. I'm tha...

My friend, Sara, lived life loud . Her voice was heard far and wide. She had weight in this world. She was.. . beautiful loved cherished spirit-filled Sara lived  in such a way that she will be carried, in speech and heart, forever by those who followed her blog and walked beside her in life. On Sunday, after an afternoon spent tossing leaves and smiling for the camera, I tuned in to the internet campus of Crosspoint church. I spent some time in worship that was out of this world phenomenal. I had a box of tissues at the ready in case my heart came out through my eyes.  It did Blake spoke of happiness, of joy, and of the difference between the two. It was the same talk we'd had with our girls that very morning. Sigh . He stated it was a choice, this joy choosing. My sentiments exactly The sermon was thought provoking and challenging and incredibly well done. Just like one of my favorite people who no longer treads g...

"Something about the sunrise  reminds me of your  faithfulness..." -Ten Shekel Shirt I awoke to the dark Lying in silence, thoughts swirled Music filled my head The lyrics a balm to my soul Praising in the darkness Praising from the shadows Praising because I can I should I will Rising and dressing, tiptoeing down the stairs Phone in hand Greeted by this Coincidence? Never. Gratitude? Always. "From the rising of the sun unto the going down of the same, the Lord's name is to be praised."  -Psalm 113:3 Swirling in my brain? Ocean by Ten Shekel Shirt Ocean (Album Version) by Ten Shekel Shirt

Today, I felt her everywhere but could find her nowhere. So, I did something I've neglected to do for well over a month...I grabbed my phone and headed outdoors, a daily occurrence when she was alive. I heard her in the crisp fall leaves beneath our feet I saw her reach in the arms of my eldest, flung heavenward with  face upturned to the sunlight She was there in the solitary leaf gently drifting from the  pile, unconcerned with remaining in the neat bundle of all the others.. .. She was exuberantly  present in this grin and in the joyous release of leaves as they flew high and fluttered down slowly  in the warm fall air... I'm quite sure I felt her here as I gazed out into the quiet of the backyard as the sun began  to set behind one of her favorite trees... (note the sparkle in the grass which only appeared  via the shot) So, I looked with my heart and I found her everywhere.... In the beau...

This morning it took all I had to slip from beneath the warm, cozy blanket and pull on my worn track shorts and tank. It was dark. Cold. Rainy. The digits were closer to six than seven. Way too early. I didn't want to go. But I did it anyway because that's what I do. I stick to the plan, follow the rules, stay on task.   No matter what. I'm disciplined. I'm not saying this in a proud or haughty manner, just as a matter-of-fact. It's a part of who I am. A friend used to tease me that I should have remained Catholic, because I am great  at making something ritual. So, I get up. I put one foot in front of the other, and I keep on keeping on. I want to nestle back under the covers. I want to spend the day in the abyss that is my heart. That's not life. Not mine anyway. I homeschool, exercise, study the Word, and do a massive amount of driving to the chicks' activities. I pay bills, manage the household, clean from top to bottom, and make sure all are...

Today I took the time to gently lift her into my arms and sway around the kitchen.  Laying aside all of the I have to's   and instead looking her in the eyes and noticing the lonely. Wondering if my eyes look the same I stopped cleaning up dinner and unloading the dishwasher and pulling out the vitamin regiment for the 'morrow. I started listening to the quiet of her heart.  The place that was calling out for more of me in the regular moments. Scrolling through the music on the phone, I found her song. The one I've sang to her since her NICU days. Choosing it carefully, pushing play, watching the wonder in her eyes. She  did not realize it was on our devices. Wonder replacing lonely My little is still small enough to fit on my hip, even at seven. I tell her it's God's gift to me, being able to tote her when she gets tired or hurt or just plain lonely . Growing up isn't easy. Neither is being grown up. Knowing this, I hold her tighter and we glide aroun...

It's as much a part of me as breathing, this friendship she and I have woven together.  In and out, up and down, encircling us. Never ceasing. Never slowing. None of the breaks, skips, or hiccups that usually occur in relationships. Not a one. We came together so seamlessly I don't  remember what my life, my days, my moments felt like without her beside me, even in a figurative sense. I know it sounds odd, the stuff of science fiction movies and creepy music, but our relationship has been like that from the beginning. I wake up when something happens to her or when she dreams and cannot bring herself out of it. She knows when I've hit my bottom and swoops in to scoop me up.   Even our night times overlap. That silly red sports car she drives in the non-waking hours? It shows up for both of us. I tell her geniuses choose green and she laughs. I am thankful to hear it so strong, so clear. Her laughter is the mix of all things beautiful; soft undertone...

I said last Thursday I'd back on Monday... Or, on Tuesday.... smile Because Monday? It got away from me. ___________________________ ...He was there with me. I was not alone. I mean, I've sung the perennial favorite What a Friend We Have in Jesus and read the poem Footprints more times than should be allowed by law, but coming to the realization that He never leaves me was to say the least daunting. In fact, if examined from a logical viewpoint, even a bit creepy, as pointed out to me by my then three year old. “Mama, does God watch over you when you’re sleeping?” asked Little Bit as I snuggled her into bed a few years ago. Never skipping a beat my reply was, “You betcha!” “Even when you get out of bed to go to the bathroom,” she paused “Is He there, too?” She sounded slightly nervous at this point, and I was beginning to get her drift. My response, blithely, was to the effect that she’d never need to be weary of the dark again. Unfortunately, I should have been a bit clear...