The first thing I do each morning is head to the bathroom, as I'm sure many people do. And every single morning, I wash my hands and stare into the mirror above the sink. Every single morning. Like the possibility exists that I may have changed physically somehow overnight ... thinner, heavier, grayer, younger, worse, better ... and on and on.
A few weeks ago, I had a revelation as I stared into the mirror on a bitterly cold January morning. I realized that my morning gaze into the mirror wasn't about overnight physical changes at all, but rather about something much more profound and life-changing. I realized that I was looking for something much deeper, something much more lasting. I've spent years of my life looking into the mirror searching for myself.
It's so easy to slip into the daily routine of life and to identify who I am by all kinds of tags or labels or names ... I'm a mom; I'm a Christian; I'm a writer; I'm a speaker; I'm a gardener. And while I fill all of those roles and more every day, who am I really? Down in the deepest recesses of my soul, in the place where only God can see and know my innermost thoughts and desires, who am I?
Perhaps the answer to that question lies in the journey of life; perhaps I will find it in the daily walk along the path. Perhaps I am ever-changing, always growing and constantly learning, and the answer will come at the end of the winding road that has been my life. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.
For now, I will rise each morning and gaze into the mirror. I will look for me for a time. Then, I'll switch off the light, feed the dogs and have a cup of tea.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Just a Vapor
Last fall, my sister-in-law Charlotte passed away after a long battle with a neuromuscular disease. A few weeks before Christmas, my friend Karen lost her dad after many years of suffering from Alzheimer's disease. Exactly one week later, her mom passed away from what Karen truly believes was a broken heart after losing her husband of almost 60 years. In early January, my brother-in-law lost his fight with Parkinson's disease.
Seeing so much loss of life recently that has touched people I love and cherish has made me realize that our lives here on earth truly are but a vapor in the grand scheme of time and eternity. As I go about accomplishing the daily "stuff" that consumes me each day, I often wonder now how much of that "stuff" really matters, how much of it really helps my fellow travelers sharing the path of life with me.
If I live to be as old as my mother did, my life is more than half completed. I pray that my first 50 years have been ones that have been loving, unselfish, kind and compassionate. I pray that every single day that I am given I care more about others than I do about myself. I pray that I share the love of Christ in a passionate and driven manner, pointing the way to Him in every action, word and deed of my life. I pray that I surrender myself more and more to God and His plan for my life with every breath that He allows me to draw.
Only God knows the days He has planned for me and what the future holds. While my life is a but a vapor, God has the ability to take a simple vapor and turn it into an amazing manifestation of His breath. Breathe in me and through me, Lord, and use me, simple though I may be, to touch someone for you.
Seeing so much loss of life recently that has touched people I love and cherish has made me realize that our lives here on earth truly are but a vapor in the grand scheme of time and eternity. As I go about accomplishing the daily "stuff" that consumes me each day, I often wonder now how much of that "stuff" really matters, how much of it really helps my fellow travelers sharing the path of life with me.
If I live to be as old as my mother did, my life is more than half completed. I pray that my first 50 years have been ones that have been loving, unselfish, kind and compassionate. I pray that every single day that I am given I care more about others than I do about myself. I pray that I share the love of Christ in a passionate and driven manner, pointing the way to Him in every action, word and deed of my life. I pray that I surrender myself more and more to God and His plan for my life with every breath that He allows me to draw.
Only God knows the days He has planned for me and what the future holds. While my life is a but a vapor, God has the ability to take a simple vapor and turn it into an amazing manifestation of His breath. Breathe in me and through me, Lord, and use me, simple though I may be, to touch someone for you.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Through the Fog
For the past three mornings, I have awakened to the sight of dense fog blanketing our city. I've always thought that fog was kind of eery or spooky in an old horror movie sort of way. It is especially frightening to me to drive when the fog is so deep that it's hard to see the road or other cars ahead of me.
This week, a massive earthquake struck the small country of Haiti, causing untold death and devastation. Image after image of the unbelievable human suffering occurring there rolls across the television screen on an hourly basis, even days after the event occurred. In a country where poverty and disease were already major problems, the people now have to deal with so much more loss than ever before.
It's easy to change the channel as I sit in my comfortable living room in my small house that would be considered a mansion to many Haitians. It's easy to go about my daily life and not really think about the Haitians who are struggling to survive one more day ... without water or food or shelter. It's easy to tell myself that I "need" all the possessions I have.
What is hard is to listen to the voice of God whispering to me, calling to me, telling me to come out of the fog and pay attention to Him and to His children who are hurting. What is hard is to be willing to give up my "things" and go where He wants me to go. What is hard is allowing Him to give me a heart for the world, for the hurting, the homeless and the needy.
My prayer, my hope, my deepest longing is that I have the courage to follow the hard road ... to jump in and trust God to show me the next step ... to have the faith to know that He knows where the journey will lead and the road ahead ... to know that is all I need to know.
This week, a massive earthquake struck the small country of Haiti, causing untold death and devastation. Image after image of the unbelievable human suffering occurring there rolls across the television screen on an hourly basis, even days after the event occurred. In a country where poverty and disease were already major problems, the people now have to deal with so much more loss than ever before.
It's easy to change the channel as I sit in my comfortable living room in my small house that would be considered a mansion to many Haitians. It's easy to go about my daily life and not really think about the Haitians who are struggling to survive one more day ... without water or food or shelter. It's easy to tell myself that I "need" all the possessions I have.
What is hard is to listen to the voice of God whispering to me, calling to me, telling me to come out of the fog and pay attention to Him and to His children who are hurting. What is hard is to be willing to give up my "things" and go where He wants me to go. What is hard is allowing Him to give me a heart for the world, for the hurting, the homeless and the needy.
My prayer, my hope, my deepest longing is that I have the courage to follow the hard road ... to jump in and trust God to show me the next step ... to have the faith to know that He knows where the journey will lead and the road ahead ... to know that is all I need to know.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Seize the Day
It's hard to believe that another year has come and gone, and a new year is beginning. I believe there is great truth that as I age, time seems to pass more quickly. Perhaps more important, however, is that as I age, the minutes and hours and days and months and years become even more precious to me. I am so much more aware of the time that God has given me and the need to use that time wisely and for His glory and honor.
Perhaps because I celebrated my 50th birthday on December 26, I find myself being rather introspective as this new year begins. I awoke this morning thinking of the blessings that my 50 years of life have seen ... three amazing and wonderful young adult children who, in spite of being raised by a single mother, are happy, productive, achieving, intelligent, loving, caring, giving and compassionate people. I have a daughter-in-law who loves my son with every fiber of her being, loves me like a mother, fits in our family like a hand in a glove and is an awesome person in her own right. I have a job that provides for my needs, a growing speaking ministry, friends who are loyal, honest and true, an incredible church family, and health that is improving with each passing day.
So, as this new year rolls in, I recognize that I haven't a clue as to what it may bring. I also recognize that though I don't know what the future holds, I do know Who holds my future. It is that knowledge that keeps me, that envelops me, that surrounds me ... it is that knowledge that makes me know that all things, whatever they may be, work together for good for those who love and serve God.
My resolutions this new year? To love God with all my heart and soul and mind, to be the servant that He calls me to be, to honor and love the people on the journey with me, and to make the most of every single moment that I am given.
Happy New Year, and remember to seize the day with gusto!
Perhaps because I celebrated my 50th birthday on December 26, I find myself being rather introspective as this new year begins. I awoke this morning thinking of the blessings that my 50 years of life have seen ... three amazing and wonderful young adult children who, in spite of being raised by a single mother, are happy, productive, achieving, intelligent, loving, caring, giving and compassionate people. I have a daughter-in-law who loves my son with every fiber of her being, loves me like a mother, fits in our family like a hand in a glove and is an awesome person in her own right. I have a job that provides for my needs, a growing speaking ministry, friends who are loyal, honest and true, an incredible church family, and health that is improving with each passing day.
So, as this new year rolls in, I recognize that I haven't a clue as to what it may bring. I also recognize that though I don't know what the future holds, I do know Who holds my future. It is that knowledge that keeps me, that envelops me, that surrounds me ... it is that knowledge that makes me know that all things, whatever they may be, work together for good for those who love and serve God.
My resolutions this new year? To love God with all my heart and soul and mind, to be the servant that He calls me to be, to honor and love the people on the journey with me, and to make the most of every single moment that I am given.
Happy New Year, and remember to seize the day with gusto!
Sunday, December 6, 2009
J.R. the Lifesaver
If you're a follower of my blog, you know that in early August, I adopted a 3-year-old dachshund named J.R. It's now November, and he is definitely a member of the family. And, he, quite simply, adores me. Almost as much as he adores his older Labrador sister, Julie.
As I've previously mentioned, J.R. sort of stole my heart away with his sad eyes and lonely soul. Little did I know when I opened my heart to that long little wiener dog, that he would be the means that God used to change my life in a major way.
When J.R. came to me, he had a severe problem with his back, and the vet said that part of his recovery would need to be walking every day and losing some of the extra weight that he was carrying. Once his back began to heal, J.R. and I began a daily routine of walking each evening when I got home from work. After about two months of walking, I was having severe pain in my left leg which eventually became so severe that I finally gave in and went to see my doctor. After several rounds of tests, I was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes. To say that my life has drastically changed would be a grand understatement ... medication, new diet, lots of exercise and checking my blood sugar three times each day.
The day that I met with my doctor and she told me the diagnosis, she ended our conversation with these words: "I know that you said that you rescued J.R. and saved him from death. I want you to know that he actually saved your life. You are lucky that you didn't go to sleep one night, slip into a coma and not wake up the next morning. That little dog saved you, Terrie, he saved your life."
God works in such mysterious ways in our lives, and He chose to use a fat little dog to work in mine. I believe that J.R. was meant to be with me, and I believed that from the moment he came into my home. As is so often the case, I had no idea just how big God's plan was ... no idea at all.
So, remember, God can take all things, both big and small, and work them for good in the lives of those who love Him. J.R. has taught me many things over the last four months, not the least of which is a new appreciation for the life God has given me.
As I've previously mentioned, J.R. sort of stole my heart away with his sad eyes and lonely soul. Little did I know when I opened my heart to that long little wiener dog, that he would be the means that God used to change my life in a major way.
When J.R. came to me, he had a severe problem with his back, and the vet said that part of his recovery would need to be walking every day and losing some of the extra weight that he was carrying. Once his back began to heal, J.R. and I began a daily routine of walking each evening when I got home from work. After about two months of walking, I was having severe pain in my left leg which eventually became so severe that I finally gave in and went to see my doctor. After several rounds of tests, I was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes. To say that my life has drastically changed would be a grand understatement ... medication, new diet, lots of exercise and checking my blood sugar three times each day.
The day that I met with my doctor and she told me the diagnosis, she ended our conversation with these words: "I know that you said that you rescued J.R. and saved him from death. I want you to know that he actually saved your life. You are lucky that you didn't go to sleep one night, slip into a coma and not wake up the next morning. That little dog saved you, Terrie, he saved your life."
God works in such mysterious ways in our lives, and He chose to use a fat little dog to work in mine. I believe that J.R. was meant to be with me, and I believed that from the moment he came into my home. As is so often the case, I had no idea just how big God's plan was ... no idea at all.
So, remember, God can take all things, both big and small, and work them for good in the lives of those who love Him. J.R. has taught me many things over the last four months, not the least of which is a new appreciation for the life God has given me.
Back in Time
A couple of Sundays ago, while visiting my hometown of Chattanooga, Tennessee, I attended the church I grew up in for the first time in over 30 years. As I pulled into the parking lot, a wave of nostalgia washed over me, and as I waited for an old friend to arrive, my mind drifted back to my childhood and teen years. So much of my life at that time revolved around this little Southern Baptist church and the people and personalities that came and went through the years.
Walking into the church with my friend was like stepping back in time ... not much had changed at the church in 30 years. The sanctuary looked basically the same, and my friend took me through the back halls and classrooms where we had sat in Sunday School for so many years. I met the pastor who told me that people often spoke of my dad and the legacy he had left at the church.
I was excited to see people I had not seen for many years, but as the choir filed in, I never expected the emotion that engulfed me. Some of the men that my dad always sat with in the choir still occupied their same spots, and I could just picture Daddy sitting there and I could hear his sweet tenor voice. I could see Mom sitting in her "spot" ... she always sat on the right side of the sanctuary, about halfway up the aisle.
Tears filled my eyes and spilled over my face ... the memories that washed over me were almost too much to bear. After the service, there were more tears, both my own and those from others, as people from my past embraced me and welcomed me and invited me to come back again. Hearing stories about my parents and seeing those friends of Mom and Dad who are now elderly and feeble was humbling and bittersweet.
I left the church that morning touched to the very depth of my soul and so very thankful for the legacy of faith that my parents passed on to me. Their commitment to God and to His church and His people was real and true and lasting. They were amazing people, my mom and dad, and their love continues to bless me even years after their passing.
So, thank you, Mom and Dad, for raising me in church, for teaching me about God and His word, for trusting that I would eventually find my way to Him, and for the countless ways you loved me in spite of myself. And thank you, Alpine Baptist Church, for allowing me to be a part of you once again on a rainy Sunday in November.
Walking into the church with my friend was like stepping back in time ... not much had changed at the church in 30 years. The sanctuary looked basically the same, and my friend took me through the back halls and classrooms where we had sat in Sunday School for so many years. I met the pastor who told me that people often spoke of my dad and the legacy he had left at the church.
I was excited to see people I had not seen for many years, but as the choir filed in, I never expected the emotion that engulfed me. Some of the men that my dad always sat with in the choir still occupied their same spots, and I could just picture Daddy sitting there and I could hear his sweet tenor voice. I could see Mom sitting in her "spot" ... she always sat on the right side of the sanctuary, about halfway up the aisle.
Tears filled my eyes and spilled over my face ... the memories that washed over me were almost too much to bear. After the service, there were more tears, both my own and those from others, as people from my past embraced me and welcomed me and invited me to come back again. Hearing stories about my parents and seeing those friends of Mom and Dad who are now elderly and feeble was humbling and bittersweet.
I left the church that morning touched to the very depth of my soul and so very thankful for the legacy of faith that my parents passed on to me. Their commitment to God and to His church and His people was real and true and lasting. They were amazing people, my mom and dad, and their love continues to bless me even years after their passing.
So, thank you, Mom and Dad, for raising me in church, for teaching me about God and His word, for trusting that I would eventually find my way to Him, and for the countless ways you loved me in spite of myself. And thank you, Alpine Baptist Church, for allowing me to be a part of you once again on a rainy Sunday in November.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Sweet Sisters
Over the last couple of months, I have had the great honor to speak for several different groups of ladies at various events. While I always pray that God will provide me with the words He would have me share that will meet the needs of the women present, I quite often come away from these gatherings feeling as though I am the one who receives the greatest blessing.
The way God works in the hearts and lives of those who love and serve Him never ceases to amaze me. Women often feel a strong connection with the guest speaker at a retreat or conference, and as such, I have heard a multitude of stories from the women God has called me to minister to ... stories of salvation, of joy, of pain, of sorrow. So many lives that have been touched by the Master's hand; so many lives that are in desperate need of His healing power.
All of those women, each and every one of them, have left a mark on me ... whether it be sharing laughter or tears ... they have all had an impact on me. Gals who are now a part of me, a part of my heart, a part of my soul ... Kathy, Vicki, Charlene, Elaine, Angi, Karen, Doris, Kari, Susan, Stephanie, Pat, Cindy, Becky ... and so many more true blessings in my life.
The older I become, the more I find myself contemplating what heaven will be like one day. I like to believe that will recognize on some level those who meant so much to us during our time on earth. If that turns out to be the case, I can't wait for the reunion that will happen one day with all my sweet sisters in the Lord!
The way God works in the hearts and lives of those who love and serve Him never ceases to amaze me. Women often feel a strong connection with the guest speaker at a retreat or conference, and as such, I have heard a multitude of stories from the women God has called me to minister to ... stories of salvation, of joy, of pain, of sorrow. So many lives that have been touched by the Master's hand; so many lives that are in desperate need of His healing power.
All of those women, each and every one of them, have left a mark on me ... whether it be sharing laughter or tears ... they have all had an impact on me. Gals who are now a part of me, a part of my heart, a part of my soul ... Kathy, Vicki, Charlene, Elaine, Angi, Karen, Doris, Kari, Susan, Stephanie, Pat, Cindy, Becky ... and so many more true blessings in my life.
The older I become, the more I find myself contemplating what heaven will be like one day. I like to believe that will recognize on some level those who meant so much to us during our time on earth. If that turns out to be the case, I can't wait for the reunion that will happen one day with all my sweet sisters in the Lord!
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Dancing in the Moonlight
As I mentioned in my previous post, I recently adopted a foster dog named J.R. And as previously mentioned, J.R. is a bit on the plump side, so we've been walking every evening. Many nights, we pass the same folks out for their evening stroll as well, and there are the cursory nods and hellos. A few nights ago, however, I saw some folks I had never seen before.
As J.R. and I crossed over the second bridge on our path, we came upon a young father, his daughter and their tiny puppy. I nodded as I passed them, hurrying along on my designated path. Something caused J.R. to hesitate, and as I turned to urge him forward, I heard the little girl say, "Daddy, let's dance!" I watched as this young father stopped in his tracks, scooped his little princess into his arms and began to twirl with her right there on the walking path. And then the little girl said, "Daddy, Daddy, pick up Lucy, too. She wants to dance with us!" I realized that tears were forming in my eyes as I watched this strong young father reach down and tenderly lift the little puppy into his arms along with his daughter. He began to sing and twirl and dance while the little girl laughed and squealed and the little puppy licked and wagged her tail.
I'm not sure how long I stood there watching the scene, but when I finally turned to continue walking, my heart was filled with joy at the unashamed display of love I had just witnessed. I couldn't help but think of how much God our heavenly Father loves us and wants to scoop us up into His arms for a lifetime of dancing.
Since all of my children are now out on their own, my canine companions are in some ways like children to me. So it seemed only fitting as J.R. and I got close to home near the end of our walk, I leaned over and ... yep, you guessed it ... I scooped that fat little dog into my arms and I danced.
As J.R. and I crossed over the second bridge on our path, we came upon a young father, his daughter and their tiny puppy. I nodded as I passed them, hurrying along on my designated path. Something caused J.R. to hesitate, and as I turned to urge him forward, I heard the little girl say, "Daddy, let's dance!" I watched as this young father stopped in his tracks, scooped his little princess into his arms and began to twirl with her right there on the walking path. And then the little girl said, "Daddy, Daddy, pick up Lucy, too. She wants to dance with us!" I realized that tears were forming in my eyes as I watched this strong young father reach down and tenderly lift the little puppy into his arms along with his daughter. He began to sing and twirl and dance while the little girl laughed and squealed and the little puppy licked and wagged her tail.
I'm not sure how long I stood there watching the scene, but when I finally turned to continue walking, my heart was filled with joy at the unashamed display of love I had just witnessed. I couldn't help but think of how much God our heavenly Father loves us and wants to scoop us up into His arms for a lifetime of dancing.
Since all of my children are now out on their own, my canine companions are in some ways like children to me. So it seemed only fitting as J.R. and I got close to home near the end of our walk, I leaned over and ... yep, you guessed it ... I scooped that fat little dog into my arms and I danced.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Rescue Me
A few months ago, my son and daughter-in-law became foster parents ... not for children, mind you, but for dachshunds. Yes, that's right, foster parents for doggies. They have had several furry friends pass through their lives, each one of them gaining a special place in their hearts and their home. Andy, their little dog, loves having new friends come, and he has gotten so attached to a couple of the fosters that he is a sad puppy when they move on to their "furever" homes.
Three weeks ago, Matt and Becca were going out of town for a weekend to celebrate Matt's birthday, and they asked if I would keep Andy while they were away. Andy always stays with me when they travel ... he loves his "Grandma Terrie," and he loves playing with my lab, Julie. This particular weekend, Matt and Becca had just gotten another foster dog named J.R. He had lived a hard three years, being born into a puppy mill and suffering a great deal of abuse. He was afraid of everything and everyone, which was understandable given his background.
When Matt asked if they could bring J.R. to me as well, I was less than excited about keeping a strange dog, especially one who had some significant trust issues. As I always do, I caved in and agreed to keep both of the hounds for the weekend.
Within a few short hours, J.R. decided that I was the greatest person on earth and deserved an exorbitant amount of love and affection from him, needed to have my every step mirrored by him, and most certainly would cherish having a fat little dog sleep cuddled next to me at night. In short, this dog worshipped and adored me.
By Saturday morning, his devotion to me was apparent as he gazed at me with his sad eyes that alluded to a much older spirit than his years would dictate. There was no playful puppy in this boy; he was sad ... sadder than any dog I've ever seen. I told myself over and over that the last thing I needed was another dog to care for; after all, I travel a great deal speaking to women's groups. And I have a big dog already. And dogs cost a lot. And he's fat and will need special food and to be walked every day. No playing Frisbee in the backyard to get his exercise like Julie does. Nope, I certainly don't need a dog, not to mention a high-maintenance one at that.
By the time Sunday arrived, I found myself calling Matt and Becca to ask what I needed to do to keep J.R. I simply couldn't bear the thought of him going anywhere where he might be abused again. And did I mention that he adores me? So when Matt and Becca came to pick up Andy, J.R. stayed with me and Julie. He found his "furever" home and completely stole my heart.
When I mentioned to Matt that I didn't understand why this dog had touched my heart the way he had, Matt wisely reminded me that I know what abuse feels like and thus felt J.R.'s pain and suffering. Smart kid, that son of mine. So now I'm walking two miles a day with Julie and J.R. Julie has the time of her life on the walking path, dragging me along like a fish on a line. J.R. manages to keep up with her and loves our walks each day. And me? Well, I've lost several pounds in the last three weeks, which is a bonus for me.
I am thankful that God in His infinite wisdom created animals for us as humans to love and care for. You see, I thought I was rescuing J.R., but it turns out that he's rescuing me right back.
Three weeks ago, Matt and Becca were going out of town for a weekend to celebrate Matt's birthday, and they asked if I would keep Andy while they were away. Andy always stays with me when they travel ... he loves his "Grandma Terrie," and he loves playing with my lab, Julie. This particular weekend, Matt and Becca had just gotten another foster dog named J.R. He had lived a hard three years, being born into a puppy mill and suffering a great deal of abuse. He was afraid of everything and everyone, which was understandable given his background.
When Matt asked if they could bring J.R. to me as well, I was less than excited about keeping a strange dog, especially one who had some significant trust issues. As I always do, I caved in and agreed to keep both of the hounds for the weekend.
Within a few short hours, J.R. decided that I was the greatest person on earth and deserved an exorbitant amount of love and affection from him, needed to have my every step mirrored by him, and most certainly would cherish having a fat little dog sleep cuddled next to me at night. In short, this dog worshipped and adored me.
By Saturday morning, his devotion to me was apparent as he gazed at me with his sad eyes that alluded to a much older spirit than his years would dictate. There was no playful puppy in this boy; he was sad ... sadder than any dog I've ever seen. I told myself over and over that the last thing I needed was another dog to care for; after all, I travel a great deal speaking to women's groups. And I have a big dog already. And dogs cost a lot. And he's fat and will need special food and to be walked every day. No playing Frisbee in the backyard to get his exercise like Julie does. Nope, I certainly don't need a dog, not to mention a high-maintenance one at that.
By the time Sunday arrived, I found myself calling Matt and Becca to ask what I needed to do to keep J.R. I simply couldn't bear the thought of him going anywhere where he might be abused again. And did I mention that he adores me? So when Matt and Becca came to pick up Andy, J.R. stayed with me and Julie. He found his "furever" home and completely stole my heart.
When I mentioned to Matt that I didn't understand why this dog had touched my heart the way he had, Matt wisely reminded me that I know what abuse feels like and thus felt J.R.'s pain and suffering. Smart kid, that son of mine. So now I'm walking two miles a day with Julie and J.R. Julie has the time of her life on the walking path, dragging me along like a fish on a line. J.R. manages to keep up with her and loves our walks each day. And me? Well, I've lost several pounds in the last three weeks, which is a bonus for me.
I am thankful that God in His infinite wisdom created animals for us as humans to love and care for. You see, I thought I was rescuing J.R., but it turns out that he's rescuing me right back.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Long Time, No Blog
I've discovered as I've aged that there are seasons in life ... at times, life blossoms like flowers in spring, grows like grass after summer showers, sheds unwanted items like leaves in the fall, or hibernates like bears on a cold winter's night.
Recently, I've experienced a new season in life by entering into the empty nest phase of parenting. My youngest child, my baby girl, moved into her own apartment, leaving my home to me and the dogs. It's been an adjustment after being a single parent for 14 years; the house is quiet, save the barking of the hounds. No music coming from the rooms upstairs, no televisions playing through the night, no one entering my room late at night to tell me about their day.
To say that I haven't had some sad days since my sons and daughter moved would be far from the truth. In fact, as they each made their way into the world to begin their adult lives, I've cried buckets as each one left the nest. But, it is the way God intended for things to be ... as parents, we raise our children to learn, to live, and to leave.
While I miss them, and the house feels lonely at times, I am learning to appreciate the good side to having the house to myself. I drink straight from the orange juice container without having to dirty a glass. I go for a walk every evening and meditate on the goodness of my Lord and the blessings He has graciously poured out upon me. I rarely turn on the television and have read several books instead.
I'm learning and I'm living ... by myself. And if I need someone to talk to other than the dogs, I've got a cell phone with friends and family as close as a call.
Recently, I've experienced a new season in life by entering into the empty nest phase of parenting. My youngest child, my baby girl, moved into her own apartment, leaving my home to me and the dogs. It's been an adjustment after being a single parent for 14 years; the house is quiet, save the barking of the hounds. No music coming from the rooms upstairs, no televisions playing through the night, no one entering my room late at night to tell me about their day.
To say that I haven't had some sad days since my sons and daughter moved would be far from the truth. In fact, as they each made their way into the world to begin their adult lives, I've cried buckets as each one left the nest. But, it is the way God intended for things to be ... as parents, we raise our children to learn, to live, and to leave.
While I miss them, and the house feels lonely at times, I am learning to appreciate the good side to having the house to myself. I drink straight from the orange juice container without having to dirty a glass. I go for a walk every evening and meditate on the goodness of my Lord and the blessings He has graciously poured out upon me. I rarely turn on the television and have read several books instead.
I'm learning and I'm living ... by myself. And if I need someone to talk to other than the dogs, I've got a cell phone with friends and family as close as a call.
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