The Voice of the Unheard

In English we say: My voice is meant to be heard.

In Poetry we say: From the early morning rays of sun that cast shadows over the bare branches of winters icy blast, sparkling upon the newly fallen snow of last evenings unfiltered storm, comes a deep quietness. If one listens intently, you can hear the many voices calling out from somewhere deep inside themselves, yearning for a listening ear that embraces the voice that speaks, yet is not heard.

Looking for my voice, I have become mesmerized by a young lady who not only writes but also reads poetry on TicToc, which I'm not a part of (but ran across on FB). She inspires me to reach further inside my mental abilities just to see if I might cause one to scratch their head and wonder what in the world I'm saying. Fun, right? It won't always be this way. Just from time to time, when the mood strikes. I ran this first try at poetry by DW. He just smiled and said, "Lots of words." 😁 Exactly what I expected him to say. He's not wrong...

It's been soooo many years ago, but I can still hear my dad telling us that "Children are meant to be seen and not heard." Sometimes, I think we have swung too far the other way, and now adults aren't allowed to speak, while the kiddos make their demands. Why can't we just find that happy balance where all are respected and never interrupted while speaking? Why can't we all have a voice that is heard? I think about those that have been in my realm of living, that I now know; now understand, all that was needed was for them to have a voice. To be heard. These are the times I would go back to (if indeed I could), and listen a bit more intentionally. I would not only listen with my ears, but with my heart. Seeing beyond the why of needing to be heard. I have failed so many times in this arena, unwittingly inflicting pain. I wish I could have a re-do. Knowing what I know now...

We all have a path to walk, stretching for the perfect while never being able to fully reach it. But we can try. We can be kinder, gentler, more involved with the needs of someone other than ourselves. And when we fail, because we will, we will get up, dust ourselves off and try again. Always learning from the mistakes we've made along the way. Keeping them at the forefront of remembrance. I think the problem exists in the refusal to lay our own lives down for the sake of another. For the most part, I do believe we are a self-centered creature, with eyes always looking inward while rarely looking out for the needs of others. Is this the reason God asked us to love our neighbors as we love ourselves? And what about our loved ones? We say we love them more than we love ourselves. But, do we? If we truly loved, wouldn't we want them to know they have a voice. That we are listening? That we care about their needs, even though those needs may sound a bit childish? Rambling thoughts...

Of late, I have been in need of inspiration. The feeling of life has occasionally been so narrow, so minimal. As if I were living in a small black box. My walks have ceased...again, but think I'll try a short walk-about today, just to see if I can make it. The last few days (maybe it's been a week), have found me almost immobile, so I'm getting way too much TV time because I have no new books to read. I've done something to my right foot without knowing just when it happened and it's giving me a hard time walking without a limp and a ton of pain. Mostly along the length of the outer side of the foot, but will also shoot up my leg as it blasts over the top of the foot, as if a bolt of lightening just struck it. But, I gotta get back to work tomorrow. I may have to dig out D's cane that Styn made for him a few years ago. Geez, I miss that guy!

Okay. That's it for today!

Still learning to be quiet, listening more (without totally withdrawing), here you will find me...in Mary's World.

 

Run to Which Roar?

Down through the ages, we've all (some more than others) been told to run to the roar. The first time I heard it caused me to withdraw and ask myself why would I want to present myself back to the place of  fear. I wanted as far away as I could get from it. Roaring sounds a bit dangerous and conjures up pictures of a lion about to go to war. With YOU in its sights. Yet, if we think about it, it can also bring up pictures of protection, much like a lion warning those that are advancing upon his pride. Do we run back to the place we ran from, facing our fears? Or do we run to the place where protection is provided from the source of the storm, the source of the danger/fear? Puts things a bit more in perspective. Right?

I've been told that sometimes the greatest safety comes from going to where the fear seems to originate. To confront the problem, instead of running away from it. As with everything, there is a right way to do this, and a wrong way. I also believe there are some problems one should just let lay (or lie), and move on away, because the mess is just too much. Others should be looked in the eye and solved. Trust me...

Today, on my morning walk, I had a talk with the One who rescued me from myself, years ago. During some pretty terrifying years, God stuck close to me, even though I wasn't nearly as aware of His presence then, as I am today. All through my adult years, He made himself known to me in the middle of the storms that seemed to follow me. The storms that were sent to devour me and set me on a much different path than what He had planned for me. Storms that continued in a much different way than they began, but still with the purpose of devouring. First the body, then the mind (spirit). 

Some may think it's impossible to have a conversation with God. Some may think it would be a one-sided conversation. It's not. It's during the times of needing a friend to talk with, I feel His presence the strongest. Morning walks are the most refreshing time of the day for me, where many times I return home with new clarity and ready to "run to the roar," or allow peace to cloak me. My protector shelters me until I can stand on my own and confront my fear(s).

So, if the greatest safety comes from going to where the fear seems to originate, how do we access that?

Storms of life come in different sizes. Some are physical, some mental. Recently, I asked a close friend why must we always run to the roar. There wasn't a response to that question, so I assumed he knew I already knew the answer. I did. It would have been wasted time and space to respond to it. 

I am presently having a battle in my mind of gigantic proportions. The battle surrounds a period of time where I constantly felt the need to run away. Having a daily onslaught of what felt like targeted attacks on not only myself, but my children as well. So much misguided pain developed over a period of the next few years. And even though there will always be a battle to confront, it just feels so very good not to have to face the memory makers that caused such heartbreak of years gone by. Let the past be the past, right? Why must I run to this roar? It's been quiet for so long. Why must I poke it and face it? I know it's my choice and I really don't relish the thought of it. Thus the visit with Truth; the One who will not steer me wrong this morning. "When my heart is overwhelmed, lead me to the rock that is higher than I." ~Psalm 61:2

Sometimes the greatest victory comes from reducing the size of the roar.

As usual, here you will find me...in Mary's World

Finding Hope

Have you ever had built up expectations, in hopes something MIGHT happen before you get too old to enjoy it? Kids have no problem imagining their dreams becoming reality. They hold onto hope because they can see themselves in the place of their deep desire. 

As we age, reality teaches us that not all dreams become something we can touch. Tangible dreams are a bit harder to grab onto. Yet, they CAN become tangible. How? Glad you asked. 

Many years ago, someone told me to think bigger than what my mind was telling me was possible. At that time, I wasn't really sure what that looked like, simply because I had trust issues. I doubted anything I wanted would become anything I could actually experience. It's just what my life was, I told myself. I was so short-sighted back then. 

It takes believing in a God of miracles. A God that placed everything we have need of, inside us, from the first beat of our heart while still being woven inside our mother's womb. Yes, I do believe that. He is a creative God, that made us in His image. That must mean we have the creative gene in us, right? Plus,He came to show us HOW to live an overcoming life. A life of value, of peace, of hope & love (when love isn't warranted). A life of creating something out of nothing. Troubles there will be. Troubles build faith. Faith creates patience. And patience gives way to having a lack of nothing. ~James 1:2-4 (paraphrased)

So...why do I have a picture of our grand girl heading up this post? Firstly, I know it will get your attention. She's just too cute, not to. Am I right? 😉 Secondly, this picture was taken at Walt Disney World last week. She had been wanting to go there, for the last couple of years, but it took a bit of patience working out the issues surrounding that trip. But she held onto hope. And hope is the reason for this blog post.

Hope produced its good work, eventually. She and her momma had so much fun while there and came home pretty tired. They were filled up with expectations met, which in turn was energy draining. But, recharging is never an issue for these two. And it wasn't any different this time, as I picked them up at the airport. They did not disappoint. I got to listen to their journey unfold, as I maneuvered air port traffic and interstate crazies. I think maybe I drove just a bit more strategically, just from feeling their energy. They may have looked a bit frazzled, but one couldn't tell from listening to their story unfold. How many times have I been so very grateful Dennis and I moved to be closer to our girls and their girls? More than anyone could count, most likely. It's been 10 years now, since our move. Not one day have we regretted picking up the homestead of 39 years, and transferring it to North Carolina, to live out the rest of our time on earth, next to where our heart is. Home truly is where the heart is, and our heart(s) were/are in NC. Just down the proverbial road from us, instead of 1200 miles away.

Faith doesn't come easily, however. It has to work through things. Like tired legs (doing the work...spirit), impatience (wanting it now...mind), troubles along the way (unexpected delays...body). Just like this picture of our girl waiting...resting her legs, her mind, her body. But still watching for the treasure to show itself. In this case, the transport bus that would carry her and her momma back to the resort. Trusting it would come. I'm telling you, children are rich with examples of faith being built, if we but watch. And listen. Wish I had a dollar for every time a little person has spoken life to me. 

As I mentioned before, living life can, and does on occasion, take the wind out of our sails. Only because we forget to hold onto hope of a better day. We become tunnel visioned at times, where all we see is the dirt around our feet, forgetting to look up at the expanse of the Universe and all its wonders. We forget to see the tapestry of God and how it actually works. Speaking of tapestry, have you ever turned one over to view the back side? That's where all the magic happens. The threads are woven over each other, sometimes looking quite tangled, knotted, and just plain confused, yet produces something of great beauty as they weave themselves together with the other threads. Think about it...

Soaking in all the goodness of our God, here you will find me...in Mary's World

 

Truth or Consequences

Last Saturday, I had a 7 year old client tell me, "You're not that good." As one can imagine, I stopped what I was doing and looked him square in the eye. It's as if I'd just walked into an unseen wall. "What?! Don't you like the cut I just gave you?" "I've seen better," he replied. He's SEVEN YEARS OLD, and he's "seen better." He now had my full attention. This little guy has always been very engaging and somewhat fun to talk with. I do love little ones. Well....most of them. The respectful ones, to be specific. But truth has always been my ally, my solid place, my grounding. And up to a certain age, kids are always transparent. Truthful. I soothed myself with the fact he hasn't seen ALL my work. So, being the adult I am, I pointed it out to him. Showed him some of my work. He wasn't impressed.

Truth be told, I have been keenly aware (of late), to everything that crosses my path. So this moment in time was no different. I'm on a mission to see my way forward from where I find myself to be. To not be caught off guard when the inevitable happens. To actually walk with wisdom and yes, a bit of pride, as this season of life unfolds. To be clear, a 7 year old is only a small piece of this tapestry me and God are creating. An important piece, however small. Every piece matters. Right?

In the 47+ years I have been working in this industry (minus a couple of sabbaticals), I have never heard these words. Not to my face, at least. Now I am wondering if they have truly been spoken, just without my knowledge. And so I must examine my expertise and see where I want to go with this new found knowledge. Do I just tuck it away in my toolbox of unimportant things? Or do I hang it on my wall so it's the first thing I see every morning? To what purpose will that guide me? "Never stop learning" has always been a motto for my life. Yet, are there unmistakable signs we can ignore?

It was only a few days ago (maybe last week) that I was talking with one of our daughters, saying, "Why can't God just make it evident what He is trying to say to us? Instead of making us 'read' all the signs and try figuring out if this is Him getting our attention about something we have been asking for, or just me reaching too far for something. For anything." I'm not sure He could get any clearer than having a truth led 7 year old, speak the words out loud. Now my dilemma is, what am I going to do with it? Will I say, "But I'm not ready for this." Or, "Okay, I have a couple of choices here."

My attention has been gotten. 

As always, here you'll find me...in Mary's World

My Therapist

"...for such is the kingdom of heaven." ~Matthew 19:14

Our 3 year old granddaughter, Reagan, shows me the kingdom of heaven, on a daily basis. Well, the days I am given with her, at least. And I'm pretty sure her parents have noticed this as well. I'm really not surprised. We raised 2 children of our own, and many were the days I felt God speak to me, using their little voices. I always knew He was telling me He understands and "hey...here's how that works if you want a great outcome."

Toddlers are really perceptive little beings. I think it's because they are still experiencing memories of where they came from (and here is where I may lose a few of you).

"Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you." ~Jeremiah 1:5  Before we were in our mother's womb! True, He was speaking to Jeremiah, one who was predestined to be a prophet to the nations. Yet, I so totally believe that even though we are not all prophets, we all were known before the foundation of the world became reality. So...we came from Him, in a much deeper reality. And at some point we will all return to Him. Some to give an account, others to enter into their rest. Okaaayyyy...getting off on a rabbit trail.

A few days ago, Reagan and I were playing with plastic Easter egg shells. She loves dinosaurs and was trying to force a really small one into one of the eggs, as a "surprise" for Grams. She was focused. She was determined. And here is what I noticed. She encourages herself.

"Come on, Reagan...you can do this!" she said. Wow! 3 Years old. Innocence at its peak. She believes in herself. Please, God...help us not damage that belief!!! On another day, while kicking a ball out in our front yard, the wind kept whipping it to the left of where I was aiming for it to go (toward her) so she might give a return kick. She just stopped everything, came over to me, placed her little hand on my arm and said, "Don't give up, Grams. You can do this." WHAT?! Sooooo much wisdom coming from this little person.

By-the-way. The kingdom of heaven is not a physical place. What?! Romans 14:17 tells us that the kingdom of heaven is not a place where one eats and drinks, but is a spiritual realm over which God reigns as King, or the fulfillment on Earth of God's will. That being, righteousness (right living), peace (calmness the world doesn't understand), and joy (an abiding state of being), while living on this planet. "I am not asking you to take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one". ~John 17:15

As I ponder years gone by, I can see areas where I stopped trusting. Stopped believing in myself as an overcomer, and began to let situations define me. As the years flew past, sometimes raging as they swept by, I stopped listening to the nurturing spirit God placed within me. The "I can do anything," spirit that was a part of who I was. It soon became a fight, or flight, thing for me. And then a, "just put one foot in front of the other," thing. Then a feeling of being much like a cork, just bobbing along, out in the vastness of an engulfing sea. I began to put aside the place of strength and swapped it for whisperings of ineffectiveness. Of unimportance. I really took a wrong turn and followed the path that was overgrown with despair, sadness, alone feelings, and self centeredness. All the while knowing this would not turn out good. It was much like being focused on healthy eating, then deciding to throw it all out the window and begin eating things that would eventually destroy your health. Knowing there was no possible good outcome.

And then Reagan shows up on the scene. What an amazing gift God has given, not just to me, but to all who have the honor of being where she is. I'm listening again. I'm hearing the still, small voice, coming over loud and clear, coming straight from my little therapist. 

"You can do this!" "Don't give up!" 

 


Praying this mighty warrior spirit of Reagan's remains active throughout her life, and here I'll remain...in Mary's World.

A Child Shall Lead Them

Recently (within the last couple of weeks), our forward thinking granddaughter began interacting with the times I speak aloud to God. Especially at nap time. Since it appears this girl is going to be a tenacious problem solver, she rarely is in the mood to take 5, or in nap time lingo, 60-120. So even prayer time can become long, as she attempts to solve the problems of nap time.

Auntie Lindsey stopped by to play

On one such occasion, after going through the rituals of book reading, dancing to music as stars and moon danced along on the ceiling, and asking Grams to "be" one (or another) toy she plays with, it was past time to lay down and quiet ourselves. Easier said than done...

She needed to "tell me something", or "I need a hug", or "I love you...hold me", or "I not ready." Some days she just starts talking about anything and everything. I'm sure there's a story she's trying to lay out for me, or maybe it's yet another ploy to keep those big, beautiful blue eyes of hers, open. On that day, I caved. There was just too much cuteness happening, and I found myself laughing uncontrollably (inside...as my body shook). She felt it, and began laughing, and laughing, and laughing. I figured I had just eliminated nap time, so in the spirit of "I need to win this game", I lifted myself off the floor where I knelt beside her bed. Stood up, and lifted her as tiny arms flew around my neck and strong legs wrapped around my waist. She was there to stay. At least for a bit. We talked. We laughed. We made up stuff that only the other world knows. I'm pretty sure there was laughter happening in Heaven that particular day as the angles watched a little girl giving so much joy to one who used to be a little girl. A very long time ago.

But...it was time to seek instruction from a higher power. "God," I began. "What would you suggest I do with this treasure you have placed in my arms? How would you have me relax her enough to get her quieted and ready for sweet dreams?" On the heels of my prayer, her little voice reached out as her head tilted backward, with eyes looking upward. As she smiled at the ceiling, she said, "God, tell her to rub my legs. For a long time." And then she giggled. She is all of 2 years old.

Reasoning with Momma

That was a couple of weeks ago. NOW, she prays to Walter. Walter is one of her special Beat Bugs characters that is in the form of a soft plush toy she takes to bed with her. Always. Until just recently. That's another story.

Why she is calling upon the name of Walter is anybody's guess. I just say, "I pray to God. Not Walter." She then changes her prayer, and poor Walter has to take a back seat to God. She loves praying, however. I rarely have to remind her of who to pray for, anymore. She includes anyone she has ever come into contact with. I'm pretty sure Olivia (the little girl she met at Jump Street two days ago), will be in her next line of requests. It will be interesting to hear how she prays for Olivia. And, she never forgets to ask God to bless each family member at work, and usually ends her prayers with "I love you."

My prayer is that she never loses that child-like love for people. Even when she doesn't understand what is happening in her world, that she chooses to forgive. That we adults never squelch the pure, innocent spirit, that resides within her. That, like her mother, we always address her with a calmness...instead of yelling, thinking that is the only way to get her attention.

Until next time, here you will find me, listening for instructions from a child (or her mother)...here, in Mary's World.

P.S. I love my day job.