- I CAN be brave even if I don't FEEL brave.
- I should buy stock in the Kleenex company.
- I can depend on others to tell me what I can't tell myself.
- I am not alone.
- The Mourner's Path is a sacred journey.
- A stranger's hand can feel just like my mama's.
- The Hebrew word for "breath" and "soul" are the same.
- You don't have to be on a starlit hill in Bethlehem to find angels. Sometimes you can find them right along the side of an ordinary road, or the other end of a cell phone.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
I'd be hard pressed to pick my favorite Spring flower. But right up there near the top is the sunny yellow daffodil. This is the time of year to be living in the Northwest if you are a bulb lover. Tulip and Daffodil fields line the highways and every house has their own supply.
I haven't seen the first daffodil this year until today. My sister sent me this picture. The flowers are from the flowering of the cross at her church. Once the service was over the church ladies were going to toss these beauties because they don't smell so good. What? Toss them as in throw them away? My sweet sister, Linda Lu, is a natural born savior of cats, dogs, nieces and nephews, sisters and now daffodils.
I have added seeing a whole Easter cross covered in 50 varieties of daffodils to my bucket list. Be still my heart, I swoon at the very thought of such beauty. On that note I leave you with a daffodil poem. It is like an exclamation point at the end of a gorgeous Easter Day!
We watie in are sorrow for birds to come, to Pray and remeber their beloved Son. And if he rises we shall rejoice for god is with us, and with him there is miracles. Amen.
... I have strong beliefs about many things but I find that my firm belief in the one Creator and ruler of our universe is probably the strongest.On a spring morning when I observe all the beautiful flowers awakening to life after the winter's sleep, and I hear the song of the birds I cannot help but feel that there is a great Supreme power over and above it all.... The flowers of that first Easter morning have long since faded and gone, but with the coming of every springtime there have been other flowers just as beautiful, just as fragrant to remind us of the love of our Father.
I give you a new commandment he told his disciples - to love one another as I have loved you.That is the Easter message I get, year after year, to love one another. From the manger to the cross the story of Jesus is the story of love and miracles. What might this world be like if each of us lived that love commandment and believed in miracles regardless of our sex, color, creed or religion? I wonder why, when the universal language is love, that is so hard to do.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
- I see the silver brushes mom gave dad as a wedding present. What, pray tell, does one do with someone else's brushes?
- I was washing my sister's feet at church on Maundy Thursday and they morphed into my father's feet and I remembered all the times I'd been down on my knees to trim his nails and rub lotion into his dried heels.
- I was looking for a new dress for Easter so I could match the flowering bushes with Springtime color. I stood in front of dressing room mirrors and remembered how Dad offered to buy me a "shirtwaist" dress for my birthday last year. I have his checkbook so I can buy me a dress from "him" but my heart misses the offer.
- I lool into the soulful brown eyes of a ditzy dog
- I see the lilies Dad planted in the front yard coming back from the winter's freeze and realize I still haven't transplanted them.
- I try to balance Dad's checkbook that, in the 3 months since it's been in my possession, has become irreconciable with the bank's statement.
- I see the crap strewn around and realize the difference between his messes and mine is that his were confined to one room.
- I see a picture of him and realize I'm slowly beginning to forget what his face looked like in life, but I cannot forget the way he looked on his deathbed. I wonder who's in the room where he died. I think about going and sitting in the comfortable chair just outside the nurse's station. Then I realize none of that is going to turn back the clock. Did I do everything right? Did I pay enough attention?
- I think of his last day and forget to be grateful that his final wish was granted. Instead I long for more time.