Wednesday, April 25, 2018


It was 32 years ago that we drove to Los Angeles Airport to pick up someone very special.  We sat in the waiting area for the passengers to come out.  Lots of people came off the plane, then our social worker went on the plane and came back out with our 6-month-old little girl from Korea!  Joan, our social worker, placed her in my arms, Josh peering over to get a look, lol. 

I had no idea that little girl would one day be my best friend.  Molly came pretty compliant, comes from being in an orphanage with little attention.  She was quiet and serene.  Her dad had just got his pilot's license, so the day after we got her, we got in a Cessna and headed from Oxnard, CA to Grants Pass, OR.  She was good the whole way, as was her brother.  This was not the best idea, but I won't go into that. 
She loved her Auntie Sue and responded to her right away.

Molly did find her voice and came to realize if she cried, she got what she needed, lol.  She was fun and creative, making doll clothes from leftover fabric, lace, etc.  She was and is cheerful most of the time, a blessing to those around her.

Without going into details, Molly & her brother had a really rough time after our divorce, the effects still being seen.  L  But Molly found Jesus when she was little and has never left.  She clung to Him and He has seen her through.  She was a joy growing up, so very sweet and thoughtful, and those words describe her to this day.

She met Will, and I met his dad, what joy!  Now they live closer and we are thrilled.  I could never have envisioned how things would be 32 years later, I never would've dreamed.  But my little girl, such a HUGE blessing is still spreading sunshine everywhere she goes.  She means more to me than I can say, as most mothers feel.  But to have come from so very far away to land in my heart is a miracle and a gift from God.  Thinking of her today, of all the years, and how she looked in her little pink outfit when she arrived.  Thank You Lord!!!!

Tuesday, April 24, 2018


The blinds slap at the window sill, the coolness rushing in on a breezy day.  And it hits me, how can everything just seem so normal?  How can I talk with him casually as though there's nothing wrong?  That his grown man decisions are so wrong, but i'm not allowed to warn him?  In respecting his autonomy and adulthood, I let him careen over a cliff in the distance, even if it's at 30 miles an hour.  Eventually, he will sail over the edge, too late.

I've pretty much made peace with all that, I just keep praying.  But every so often, like today, when that breeze tapped me on the shoulder, I want to run to him, to plead with him, to let him know the building he's living in is on fire.  But I know he doesn't wanna hear that from me, so the attempts have ceased. 

But here's the thing, once you're a mom, you held him, loved him, suffered with him, celebrated with him, you just can't sever the tie lickity-split.  "I asked the LORD to give me this boy, and he has granted my request." I Samuel 1:27.  I have loved him more than I thought possible.  And he loved me back.  Now his love is distant, I believe it's there, he says so, but hard to tell.  And when my mind runs to past viewing of little boy days, the tears just naturally come.

I don't believe I know anyone with as much God-given talent or potential.  Handsome and funny, full of style and personality, but I cannot support his lifestyle.  It is heart-breaking.  People, girls especially, left in his wake, hurting.

The thing is, this heart that is aging and preparing to go home, longs for a few sweet moments with the boy, the man.  And they will not be forthcoming.  And this heart, more than anything, wants to know that he walks with Jesus as he once did.  I probably will not live to know.  I could not have lived through the events of the last few years without my love, my David.  Though we all have made mistakes, his unwavering support and love, holding me when I am distraught, etc., helps me stay sane in it all. 

And Jesus, always Jesus.  The wakings in the night, the fear that can grip my heart when there's a phone call later than usual, the wondering, the grieving, He holds me through it all and sustains me.

So on this blustery day in April, about a week after he turned 36, I once allow myself to feel the grief, the missing and I pray, and I weep. 

Tuesday, November 14, 2017


It is 9:39, Tuesday morning.  I have had breakfast, played with the dogs and meted out daily medicines into their little Monday, Tuesday, etc. boxes.  I am finding at 63 I am wont to stay in bed a little longer in the morning.  Only problem with that is, there's less morning to get things done, which is my best work time.

I'm also finding at 63, I really don't care for housework anymore.  This surprises me, because a short 3-1/2 years ago, I was so thrilled to have this rental house (and I still am!), it was a joy to clean.  So it is not a waning interest in what God so graciously gave us, I just don't wanna clean. 

My favorite thing to do is stay in the Monastery, which is one of the bedrooms with computer and books, where I have devotions almost every day and talk to the Lord.  I can look out the window beside me into the back yard and see the trees we planted and the critters I feed peanuts to every morning.  To have solitude is a precious gift.  Time to think, to pray, to read, research, to play. 

Problem is my mind can't rest unless the house is fairly clean and picked up.  So I struggle with the balance.  I mean on the one hand, to ponder, to think and to worship are the best things, but on the other, I also want to make a good home for my husband.  I want him to want to come home, have it be a haven from the world and that includes being clean and uncluttered.

For today I have the blessings of dogs playing, candle lit, hot coffee and me at my computer.  But at the bottom of the coffee cup, there are floors to clean, furniture to dust, etc.  And in it all, to seek the heart of God and learn more of Him.

Friday, January 20, 2017

Sick Days

When I am not feeling well, and i'm talking about the Mommy Standard not feeling well, I like to pamper myself for the day.  Thankfully, I rarely feel that bad for longer than that.  But my day includes guilt-free time on the computer, multiple cups of coffee with whatever my flavor of the day is, Renaissance Man grabbing dinner on the way home, and just general loafing about.
I read a post this morning and the writer was talking about what her 3 favorite things to do are.  Like her, i'd never thought of it really, but one of mine is being alone with the Lord.  Of course the thoughts that immediately rushed in were how I become distracted, but also, when I don't, sometimes I just feel too dense to grasp anything He might be saying to me.  So my prayer is that, even if i'm like a dumb animal, I want His Holy Spirit to saturate me, let me just soak in Him for a while, curl up at His feet and just be with Him.  Because I do know this for certain, His presence is better than any other experience.  To just be still and absorb the love is the best thing this side of Heaven. 
I hope to grow and learn and mature in the Lord.  But on these days of not feeling well, or just not being able to grasp what He might be saying to me, I will just enjoy Him being here.  What sweet assurance of what is to come. 
There are people I love that will only change if they allow the Lord to change them (like all of us) and follow Him passionately.  This can make me weary and sorrowful, there are too many bills, the car needs work, I miss my friends and family, the list could go on and on, for all of us.  At this age, knowing that Heaven is the destination is incredibly comforting, and His presence with me now, a sweet foretaste.

Monday, December 19, 2016

Advent 2016

In celebrating Advent and reflecting on all that Christmas means, I was struck this morning with what was a new thought for me.  I have heard all my life that Christ would've died and rose again even if I was the only person alive.  But this morning it came to me, He would also have been born had I been the only other one.  He was born for me, as He died for me.

Ever amazed at thinking about how almighty God was crammed into a tiny baby and ultimately a grown man, knowing He would do all that for me is as staggering as the cross.  In Hebrews 4:15, it tells us He was tempted as we are.  Isaiah 53:3, that He was familiar with pain and grief.  He was born for it...for me, for every one of us.  For leaders in the world, for Olympic champions, for addicts who can't get a handle on their addiction, for the down and out, for the wealthy, for the good, for the bad...for all of us.  He is familiar with the pains that can fill our hearts.

But He doesn't leave us there hurting, He holds a hand out to us, offering hope, forgiveness, redemption.  And the very things that can put us under, become springboards for miracles.  Miracles begin in the heart.  To dare to hope, and then watch to see what He does, often times, quietly, seemingly in such a natural way, when in reality, it could only happen super-naturally.

The unfathomable love of God for us!  He won't allow short-cuts, only when we realize our utter hopelessness in our own strength, and how painfully guilty we are of putting Him up there on that cross, we are faced with the baby in the manger.  We are the reason He came.  The more I meditate on it, the more I realize Isaiah 64:6, "All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags; we all shrivel up like a leaf, and like the wind our sins sweep us away."  But God.  But the baby we celebrate.

Once again, it's Christmas.  Time to realize all He is and worship.