Dear Mr. Cottontail

Mr. Cottontail
123 My Street
My Neighborhood, USA

Dear Mr. Cottontail,

This letter is to inform you and you ginormous family of Cottontails that you are no longer welcome in our neighborhood and are therefore being evicted from said aforementioned areas.  You were once cute, last year, while hopping about and being scared of my dogs and cat.  Now, after your sneaky, sniper bunny rabbit training has given you so much confidence in yourself to snub your nose at any feline or canine in the tri-county area we must resort to this measure.  We also realize that you and Mrs. Cottontail have brought along the many hundreds of little ones that popped up this spring.  We regret to inform you that they, too, are being asked to leave.  We are asking nicely and you must consider this your first warning.  You must leave of your own recognisance or we will be forced to resort to other rather violent methods of eradicating your species.  You see, I planted my garden for my family and friends consumption and not yours.  My neighbors planted their flowers for their admiring not your diet and, might I say, expanding waistline.  It was fine when it was just you frolicking to and fro last year, but you and your bunny militia have gone too far.  I have a slingshot and am not afraid to use it!  Don't get me wrong, I love you, but I don't like your lifestyle.  May God be with you and yours, and yours, and yours, and yours, and yours, and yours, etc, etc, etc.

Thank you for your prompt attention to this matter and will we be in touch further, if necessary.

Sincerely,
Garden owner

Objects in mirror are closer than they appear!

I'm a hindsight kinda girl.  Mostly because I don't have the patience yet to determine when to sit back and let things play out.  I like to be involved in the propulsion of things.  It can be dangerous and most of the time it is extremely chaotic.  I am realizing that I need to pay attention more to the events of the moment and stop using my mirrors to look back and see how God was involved in that and FINALLY give him the glory and the credit for certain areas moving the way He saw fit and not me.  I'm seeing more and more where God's hand has lifted up, moved along, stroked through, molded and crafted things much more gracefully than I could ever do.  To watch how we are so intertwined together in this life and whether you are a believer or not, how He uses everyone to see that His plan is sovereign.  

My faith is just that, faith.  Not strong, not weak, not deeper, not better than before because I have noticed that faith is faith.  I am human and can waiver on my closeness to God and then decide to rely on faith when I have screwed it up beyond fixing by me.  

The best example of hindsight faith is watching my kids grow and looking back on how God was so present in their lives and mine through situations I thought would never subside.  My children grow closer to Him in spite of me.  I cradled them and smelled their newly washed newborn hair.  I fed them and held them up as they tried to walk.  I let them fall and watched as their legs grew stronger and stronger and they no longer fell.  

My kids are no longer behind me as I peer into that mirror of mine.  They have long since passed me up.  Now I watch as they lead the way for a whole new generation of believers.  They pick up their own cross and carry it down this road called faith.  It's my life in the mirror now.  The one where God has already placed the grace and mercy for me to deal with what might be ahead in the road.  I'm along for the ride in my faith-mobile.  It's a hybrid, by the way, and gets great gas mileage.  You should get one and test drive it a while to see where He takes you next.  It's a bumpy road, but I like four wheeling.

Happy Day - Cuz Every Day is Mom's Day

My mom is the most wonderful mother on the planet!  I know, I know, you're saying that your's is and blowing me off, but I know I'm right on this one.  She put up with a lot of @#$% from me growing up.  Again, I know your saying, "no, not you."  Yea, I was a preacher's kid and a loud mouthed, back talking, rude teenager with no respect for anyone, including myself.  And yet, she loved me through it, hopefully with a bottle of wine over scripture!  I was so horrible.  Then Jesus and I talked about it one day in my twenties and I realized he was probably right, I should change my attitude, especially towards my mother.  My mom is the most patient individual I know, except when it comes to mail on the counter or throwing things away that shouldn't be and hauling them to the garbage outside never to be seen again by man.  I love my mother.  I love her laugh.  I love the way she loves my dad.  I love the way she gets in a snit and stomps her foot on the floor.  I love the way she loves my children and about pees her pants being around them and their funniness.  I love her love for my Jesus and her Savior.  I love that she loves me.  

Here is an email that she sent me on my birthday in my email and I thought I would share:  

"Shannon,  Sending this HAPPY BIRTHDAY wish to you tonight hoping you will open your email in the morning and see it first thing and know that we are thinking of you!  41 years ago Grandma and Grandpa Dumford were spending time with us to be there when you were born...and to keep Warren and Melissa occupied while I went to the hospital.  You and Sarah had the same idea, to come when YOU wanted to and not when the doctor said you would.  The day before you were born, a Sunday, Grandma and I stayed home from church and while I waited for everyone to come home I painted my nails, sat on the back door steps in the sun, took a leisurely shower and washed my hair,  checked my bag for the hundredth time to be sure I had everything I needed to go to the hospital, and such.  When everyone came home from church we ate lunch and then went to Freedom Park to walk around the "lake" several times, feed the ducks, and get the exercise that would help convince you to arrive soon.  You got the message!  Shortly after going to bed Sunday night I was up again and on the way.  Once you decided to come, you didn't waste any time getting here and what a beautiful baby you were!  We didn't know if you'd be a girl or boy - surprise was the way it was done in those days.  How happy we were to see you!  Not long after you were born we bought a house...our first, on Kenmore Avenue in Charlotte.  We loved it there, and lived there until you were 5.  Good memories.  Hope your birthday is beautiful all day long!

 

We love you.

Mom and Dad"

And here is a just one of many stories about why I love her:

Phone rings.

me - hello?

mom and dad promptly sing me Happy Birthday in harmony!

me - thanks!

mom - well, I also have a story for you that I think you're old enough to here now.

me - (oh crap, am I adopted?  Do I have a twin?  Was a hatched?  Was a third arm removed from me right after birth?  All questions that ran through my head, but I said.....)  OK?

mom - well, when you were born and we brought you home.  Your oldest brother Warren came in to see you with his friend.  Now, Warren was approximately 4 years old so he was pretty little.  He was so excited to see you and introduce you to his little friend.  Well, after they visited with you they went outside and Warren's friend told him, "Warren, your sister is awful puny.  She's gonna die."  Warren came running in from outside crying his eyes out.  He wouldn't leave your side for the longest time, worried you were going to die.  Hahaha.  Isn't that funny?

me - Gee, thanks mom!  

I must admit the story is pretty funny and thank goodness no extra appendages had to be removed!

I love you, Mom!

I am so blessed that God put you and I together in the same body to be nurtured and loved for nine months so that you could be my mom for eternity!  God is so good, don't ya think?

Happy Mother's Day!

A little abstract poetry

Lost in a funk.

Don't know how I got here.

Can't seem to find the way out.

Need spiritual guidance.

Wanting a nap.

Grieving over changes.

Feeling a little overwhelmingly blessed.

So why am I sad?

Tears are fallin'.

Sun is shining on my house.

Laughter creeps in the windows.

Dinner will be late.

Traffic will be horrid.

Taxi mom underpaid.

Dark rooms make it hard to locate the doorknobs.

Soon fresh air will consume my lungs.

My outlook will be joyous.

Now, not so much.

Soon.

The one movie I was avoiding

Growing up with Christ in my life since my birth has been one of the best privileges I've had.  I've never known a day in my life where He didn't exist in my universe.  I did not always embrace my Christian faith in the way I do today, but I knew His name could be spoken at any moment and my heart would know He was there.

I remember the bible stories from Sunday school growing up.  I heard the Easter story every year.  I celebrated His birth at the manger each December.  I continue to pursue the knowledge of God's word to this day.  What I've realized is my desensitizing of the truth and my need for re-sensitivity in my life today.  We teach Jesus lived, grew, died, rose, done and now you have eternal life.  I honestly think that one of the injustices of amply cured Christians to the outside world is our lackadaisical attitude about the enormity of the story of our Savior.  I had the distinct privilege to watch "The Passion of the Christ" this past weekend with two of my sons (who had already previewed the film).  I wasn't with my husband geographically when he had the chance to watch it in 2004 and I didn't know if I really wanted to see it.  I knew of the agony that Christ suffered through the reading of the scriptures and wasn't sure I wanted the visual.  But through the urging of my boys and my hubby to watch the film I decided to take the plunge.

After it was over I had no words.  Which really meant for me that I just couldn't put my head around which words to actually use because they all seemed dull and lame compared to the emotions I felt inside.  Believe me, I'm never at a loss for words, but more at a loss for the right ones.  I suddenly felt like my journey for closeness to my God was sorely inadequate and lazy.  I have talked alot about worship and being close to God and reading the word and etc, etc, etc.  But then the simplicity of it all came down to this one moment in eternal time where Jesus gave it all for my life to have meaning.  I don't mean simple like anybody could have done it or that it was easy.  I mean simple in the way that we make it so hard on ourselves to be followers of our risen Lord and Savior.  It became more human to me than ever.  Realizing the relationships he had with ordinary people.  The fact that Mary, his mother, had to be a woman of ordinary means.  If she were royal then Jesus would've been raised by nursemaids and helpers and the relationship between he and his earthly mother would not have been what it was.  

I find myself whining and making excuses so often for my behavior or lack of behavior and why?  Christ gave it all so that I could get on with the business of God's business not mine.  It would be different if I didn't believe, but I believe publicly in Christ, so I need to move on.  I could not have done one phase of that crucifixion journey.  Praying in the garden, going willingly with the guards, getting smacked around, being flogged, dragging a cross while being whipped and finally asking forgiveness for those as he hung, dying.  I have taken it all for granted so far by being so bland about these stories of life changing eternal moments.

If you haven't seen this film I urge you to watch it.  I urge you to watch it with someone else.  If you are under 18, I urge you to watch it with an adult.  This is just a movie with real people who are just actors for a living, but this is a powerful story and God will take you where he wants you through this movie.

I don't want to be desensitized to what Christ has done for me.  I want those around me to understand the intensity in His story of life and death and resurrection.  Dear God, help me.  Here I am.  Make it known to me my life in you daily.

Ephesians 4:22-24

You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.

Gift of the Lord Mountain of Strength Price

Yesterday, my hubby and I had the distinct privilege to watch our youngest son stand before a group of Elders and congregation members and profess his faith.  He has been attending a confirmation class for the past 8 months and it culminates here, in the parlor of the church.  My heart is full.  My mind is numb.  I don't know any other "how" but God.  

As we look back on Matt's life of 14.5 years we cherish those moments of serenity when we could just lug him around anywhere and he could care less as long as he was hanging out with us.  Those moments of questioning, when my heart skipped a few million beats, when I asked if he believed in Jesus because I wanted him to or he wanted to and I received the answer I didn't want.  Lots of prayer and affirmation of Christ in our lives has brought us here today.  

He looks so grown up yet so small.  I love my Matthew, not more than my others, but so differently than each.  It's like that when you have children.  The value of the love is the same but the manner in which you feel it in the different parts of your heart are different for each person.  Matt is the last of the boys, the first one up from Sarah, the one I babied the longest, the one that has surprised me the most, the quietest of them all, the softest and most sincere when it comes to speaking his love language.  The way in which he has grown in the past year has my hubby and I on our knees praising the God above for all of his provisions for this child.  His heart is guarded and his laughter pure.

I watch with true honesty and reality that this will not always be a rosy path.  I am perfectly aware that there are traps and side roads that may lead my children off for a bit.  But I have faith that the God of grace and mercy will never leave them and they will always know his love and truth.  Life comes down to this:  Jesus died for us, God gave his ONLY son for us, everything else is icing, gravy or whatever topping you like.

Thanks God for the gift of Matthew.  I am truly grateful to be a part of his life if only for what seems a split second in eternity.  God is good.  All the time.  All the time.  God is good.

Christmas in April

The gifts of today were wrapped in a beautiful hue of icy blue, the color of the Colorado sky in the sunny winter afternoons.  The wonder of modern medicine to take away my horrific allergic reaction to the spiny pollen particles unseen to man, but a familiar sight to my sinus cavity!  Joy and rapture!  With a clear breath I could wake to join the exciting activities that today unpacked in my living room.

The air was full of tingling giddiness.  I thought it was just me.  So excited to be welcoming our oldest back to the nest for a six week visit before he treks off once more for the wild west for the summer.  I was watching the minutes clang away with syrupy laziness.  When will the day close and the darkness reveal the witching hour?  Then the boys bounded in from school, "What time does his flight come in?  Are we all going?"  Up to this point I just thought Sarah and I would be the only ones piercing the cab line at the baggage claim to fetch Adam.  Hum.  I guess I should ask who wants to go.  Sarah had already asked if she could skip soccer practice.  This isn't something she EVER asks to do.  Soccer is her life right now.  So, I knew she was going.  I just assumed the boys would do the normal shrug of I-got-better-things-to-do, like sleep on the couch while watching a cheesy movie I've already seen 10,000 times.  All were up for the trip.  Even my hubby was at the ready.  It was like Christmas morning at the top of the stairs.  "Please, mom, let us go down now!  Now?  What about now?"  Of course, I just silently soaked it all in.  Loving the electricity in the car as we all piled in headed to grandma's house to wait out the last hour.

Assuming some would stay behind with grandma and say their hellos as we breezed back through we headed back to the car after a  cup of coffee and catching up with grams.  Nope.  We're going with you.  Again, piled into the car wondering why the speed limit was set so low.  Wondering why the traffic was so apathetic to our journey.  His flight was early, so we weren't even there when he arrived.  Oh well.  He was like a beacon on the sidewalk as we pulled in.  Wow!  Was that my baby?  Had he looked that old four months ago?  We popped like popcorn kernels to get a peek at him as he bounded in the car.  Wanting to catch a glimpse of what pieces of the west he brought back for us to share.  Stories of Uncle Jeff, eating lunch at Dorothy's, the powder on Wolf Creek or just the scent of Colorado lingering on his clothes and out of every pore on his body. Everyone wanting a piece of his attention for themselves.  

I can't wait for the day when all of my kids get to venture from the nest and try out their wings and fly.  Soaring over the world picking their nesting site, settling in, making their life their own.  But not just the journey out to where they will find themselves, the adult version of their little selves, but the journey home.  The journey to visit and have the childlike excitement that they felt tonight.  To talk about random facts, spit out funny jokes they've learned, catch them up on their lives and what's up with the neighborhood.  The Christmases of the future where kids and grandkids will converge upon the smallest room in the house and sit on the counters and laugh and joke and play their music and be.  Be the puzzle with no end pieces that continues to grow and expand until it outgrows the table and must be moved to the floor.  Then each takes their own pieces and starts their puzzles with their new families and we continue to gravitate to each other when we need that familial feeding.  

Life happens.  It's beautiful and leaves me wondering how in the world I could ever love them more.  And then with each sunrise I find that my heart just expands that much more, ready for a new day and new memories and new adventures in this crazy life God gave me.  Life.  Be.  God.  Thanks.