May I please tell you about a friend of mine?
Thanks.
He is a man I have respected unwaveringly for years.
He is an unassuming man. One who possesses quiet strength. He is not easily angered --unless you mess with his family. Then, honestly, jumping off the nearest bridge might be the most pleasant thing for you to do.
He knows what he believes and stands by it. He is, however, always ready to listen to you; even if you don't agree with him. He's one of those humble people who isn't offended if you don't see things as he does. That's your right as a person and he will love you anyway.
He isn't a big talker. But if you are wanting a story, he enjoys obliging. And he tells them vividly, like he's reliving each memory. He's lived a while, so he has quite a repertoire, too. If he sees that you are enjoying listening, he will love every minute. And probably throw in another tale, for your listening pleasure.
And his laugh! The term "belly laugh" -- where your whole body laughs, from the soul out. Yeah, I'm pretty sure someone came up with that description after watching this guy. It's not one of those laughs that is at all annoying -- it actually makes you laugh along if you hear it, even if you haven't heard what is funny. It's contagious and can brighten up your whole day.
And so can he. One smile, one heartfelt kind word, both of which characterize this man, make you feel like carrying on, even on the days where you struggle to do just that. He is genuine. Warm, kind and sympathetic.
He's not a public speaker. In fact, being in front of a large crowd makes his stomach hurt. But one-on-one, now that's his cup of tea. Talking comfortably over a good meal, a phone call just to catch up and see how your day is going...that's him. Come to him with a heartache, worry, struggle, and you will get a listening ear, encouraging word, and prayer. And a hug.
He's not a loner by any means. He enjoys quiet time at home, takes pleasure in simple relaxation. But not by himself. Now snuggle one of his children up next to him...or turn on an Andy Griffith show and gather the family around...or give him a book to read aloud (complete with "voices," of course)...and there you have it. Ideal quality relaxation.
Or put him on the beach. Seeing a grown man marvel at and revel in the beauty of the ocean, is observing worship in a pure form. He is humbled and overwhelmed at the creativity and blessings of God. There is nothing "frivolous" he would rather spend money on than a trip to the beach with his family.
I might also add that he builds the best, most precise sand castles EVER.
He's a thinker. Don't try to get a quick decision out of him -- it will only prolong the process. But rest assured that when you do get an answer, it will have been thought about from every angle and it will stand. Period. All that effort will not be in vain. If the decision is something you aren't going to want to hear, it will be presented in a gentle, loving, diplomatic way. If it is a welcome answer, he will probably attempt to keep a straight face and begin his speech as though you aren't going to enjoy hearing what he has to say. But when you realize you were scared for nothing, just smack him, hug him and thank him. He's happy to make you happy.
Most importantly, this man loves the Lord with his whole heart. His faith is not loud. But it is strong. His convictions are obvious but not obnoxious. His relationship with the Lord is sweet and evident in how he handles this life. One of his go-to verses and prayers is "We don't know what to do but our eyes are on You." He doesn't claim to have answers or to know how to fix everything. He just knows Who does and encourages us that running to Him is the solution, in and of itself.
In my humble opinion, you can't get a much better picture in this sin-tainted world of the way God feels about His children, than seen in this man.
His hugs comfort like nothing else on earth. He makes you feel like the most precious, beautiful, priceless treasure in the world. He would do anything in his power to help you and make a close relationship possible.
It breaks my heart to say that this man is now in Heaven and this world continues without him.
But I will never stop being proud to call this man my friend.
And my Daddy.
Happy Birthday, Daddy.
Love forever.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Monday, August 20, 2012
Intro and Tribute
I am filled with emotion as I begin this new blog. It seems like a huge step for me. Not just in terms of committing to being diligent in my writing again, but also personally: as another step in a grieving process.
As many of you know, a year ago last week my precious father was taken Home to Jesus. Even as I type these words, I realize that I still haven't grasped the truth of it. I feel like I'm acting out someone else's life. It is still too horrific for my heart to believe. But the reality of him not being physically present in my life anymore is all too obvious every single day.
I say all this to explain why I need to write again. Why "putting pen to paper" needs to no longer be one of many things that has been demoted on my priority list. Mainly because I feel it is how God created me. He gave me the desire to write and the ability to best communicate that way. It may not be helpful to anyone else, but it helps me process this thing called life. It causes me to sort out circumstances. Discern truth. Enjoy experiences over and over. And now, also honor and feel close to my Daddy.
Daddy loved to write. He was very gifted with words and also enjoyed the therapy writing brought. We loved to read each other's "works." He was my biggest cheerleader and I always felt like I was seeing even deeper into his heart when I read something he wrote. We even wrote a speech together for my high school graduation. It was simply one of many bonds we shared.
In the past few years, life has taken off - sometimes feeling as though it was taking me for a ride. Carl and I married in March of 2008. Liam was born in November of the same year, with Cole following in June of 2010, and Ezra in September of 2011. Daddy's first bout with cancer was early 2010. We thought it was taken care of after surgery and an abbreviated round of treatments. A year later we were shocked with the news that it was still very present; and advanced. In four months we lived through an earthly Hell.
There are many blessings to acknowledge. And there is pain and loss with which to cope.
My days are so busy I feel like I don't do either very well. I look back on a day and try to remember doing anything besides fixing meals, changing diapers, a grocery store trip and cleaning endless dishes and messes. I wouldn't trade my "occupation" for anything in the world. But I feel like if I let myself focus only on the mundane, I'll lose sight of the extraordinary. I can get so consumed with doing the work that God has given me, that I forget God.
Writing, for me, is a way of communing with God. I talk to Him as I write. He speaks to me as thoughts swirl through my head. And many times, I'll look back at something I have just typed and know that it was Him who pulled those words from my scattered brain. After all, He gave me the love of writing to use, right? Does it glorify Him if we let a gift He gives us simply sit on the shelf? Or, in my case, put it on the priority list in the vicinity of the other items I know, deep down, will not get done? Hardly.
Now I realize that this is not going to be an easy task for me. I am easily distracted and I have three cute, loud, little distractions running around me 24/7. (I have gotten up from my computer no less than 50 times thus far in this post, and I am spoon-feeding a certain baby between sentences.)
But it is my goal. My pledge. To God, to myself, and to my Daddy's memory. I will write more often. No one may ever read it; but that's okay. I will endeavor to remind myself in this small way of my identity. Who I am in Christ. Who God made me. An individual with gifts, interests, desires, and the need to use my brain. :) My family is my world right now...but not my identity. I have observed that when you let something (even "good" things) become who you are, you often destroy the very thing you've let consume you. It's like using a plastic knife to cut down a tree: it's not intended for that purpose, therefore it is destroyed and the tree is still standing.
I need the reminder that what I do is not who I am. And for me, writing does this. It renews and enhances my perspective on life. It helps me enjoy and process my world. Regardless of the subject matter, I see God in the art. And I pray to be an artist worthy of His signature.
Now I'll warn you, my musings may be random. I am following a good friend's advice (and example) by simply writing; putting words to life and thereby fully living.
If you are one of the souls that happens along this blog, I pray you see God in it, most of all. I hope it blesses you in some way. Maybe make you cry and laugh with me along the way.
So enough introduction and explanation. Sufficient rambling for one post. I'll sign off for now, promising to return soon. Even if it's with a spoon in one hand.
As many of you know, a year ago last week my precious father was taken Home to Jesus. Even as I type these words, I realize that I still haven't grasped the truth of it. I feel like I'm acting out someone else's life. It is still too horrific for my heart to believe. But the reality of him not being physically present in my life anymore is all too obvious every single day.
I say all this to explain why I need to write again. Why "putting pen to paper" needs to no longer be one of many things that has been demoted on my priority list. Mainly because I feel it is how God created me. He gave me the desire to write and the ability to best communicate that way. It may not be helpful to anyone else, but it helps me process this thing called life. It causes me to sort out circumstances. Discern truth. Enjoy experiences over and over. And now, also honor and feel close to my Daddy.
Daddy loved to write. He was very gifted with words and also enjoyed the therapy writing brought. We loved to read each other's "works." He was my biggest cheerleader and I always felt like I was seeing even deeper into his heart when I read something he wrote. We even wrote a speech together for my high school graduation. It was simply one of many bonds we shared.
In the past few years, life has taken off - sometimes feeling as though it was taking me for a ride. Carl and I married in March of 2008. Liam was born in November of the same year, with Cole following in June of 2010, and Ezra in September of 2011. Daddy's first bout with cancer was early 2010. We thought it was taken care of after surgery and an abbreviated round of treatments. A year later we were shocked with the news that it was still very present; and advanced. In four months we lived through an earthly Hell.
There are many blessings to acknowledge. And there is pain and loss with which to cope.
My days are so busy I feel like I don't do either very well. I look back on a day and try to remember doing anything besides fixing meals, changing diapers, a grocery store trip and cleaning endless dishes and messes. I wouldn't trade my "occupation" for anything in the world. But I feel like if I let myself focus only on the mundane, I'll lose sight of the extraordinary. I can get so consumed with doing the work that God has given me, that I forget God.
Writing, for me, is a way of communing with God. I talk to Him as I write. He speaks to me as thoughts swirl through my head. And many times, I'll look back at something I have just typed and know that it was Him who pulled those words from my scattered brain. After all, He gave me the love of writing to use, right? Does it glorify Him if we let a gift He gives us simply sit on the shelf? Or, in my case, put it on the priority list in the vicinity of the other items I know, deep down, will not get done? Hardly.
Now I realize that this is not going to be an easy task for me. I am easily distracted and I have three cute, loud, little distractions running around me 24/7. (I have gotten up from my computer no less than 50 times thus far in this post, and I am spoon-feeding a certain baby between sentences.)
But it is my goal. My pledge. To God, to myself, and to my Daddy's memory. I will write more often. No one may ever read it; but that's okay. I will endeavor to remind myself in this small way of my identity. Who I am in Christ. Who God made me. An individual with gifts, interests, desires, and the need to use my brain. :) My family is my world right now...but not my identity. I have observed that when you let something (even "good" things) become who you are, you often destroy the very thing you've let consume you. It's like using a plastic knife to cut down a tree: it's not intended for that purpose, therefore it is destroyed and the tree is still standing.
I need the reminder that what I do is not who I am. And for me, writing does this. It renews and enhances my perspective on life. It helps me enjoy and process my world. Regardless of the subject matter, I see God in the art. And I pray to be an artist worthy of His signature.
Now I'll warn you, my musings may be random. I am following a good friend's advice (and example) by simply writing; putting words to life and thereby fully living.
If you are one of the souls that happens along this blog, I pray you see God in it, most of all. I hope it blesses you in some way. Maybe make you cry and laugh with me along the way.
So enough introduction and explanation. Sufficient rambling for one post. I'll sign off for now, promising to return soon. Even if it's with a spoon in one hand.
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