1 comment | published by Linda | December 12, 2009

Sometimes I would wonder if anyone noticed that I had left the room. I would slip away so quietly, and admittedly I was so quiet when I was a part of the group that I could disappear easily. I was a child. It was years ago, yet I can still remember the avocado green hand woven placemats covered by the bright white china and shiny silverware. I can still hear my Grandpa’s voice, as he’d say the dinner prayer.

After the meal I always had my eye on the little green dish in the dining room filled with white mints. I found it impossible to pass them without taking another for my journey.

Being at my grandparent’s house was like a home away from home. I was always comfortable there, and spent lots of time daydreaming, as I’d walk around their home. I would pretend their guestroom was my bedroom. I’d rub my fingers across the top of the bedspread and imagine waking up in the morning, and standing in front of the dresser mirror to fix my hair with the antique brush Grandma left there.

One room I’d always spend some time in before it was time to say goodbye was Grandma’s guest bathroom. I don’t know why, but I felt so beautiful when I was there… like a lady. Maybe it was the soft nightlight that would shine from the wall, accompanied by the pink towels and decorations. For some reason as I looked in the mirror being surrounded by Grandma’s perfumes and brushes I was suddenly all grown up.

I would pretend that God would take a picture of me through the mirror. From the time I had to hold myself up on the counter to see the mirror, until I was in my twenties, I would go into that bathroom, and pose for my latest photo. My transformation into womanhood, documented in my imagination and belief that my God was holding a special photo album of these photos.

I can only visit my grandma’s house in my memory now. And I wonder if my grandparents ever knew how beautiful I felt in their presence. The way they’d look at me, talk to me, and listen. I felt like a princess. I won’t be able to tell them now, yet the child inside me smiles, sure that God is giving them permission to look through my photo album to see how their granddaughter turned from a little girl to a woman…sometimes in one magical night. ..

Posted in Attic    |   Tags: Pictures in Heaven
0 comments | published by Linda | November 21, 2009

As a little girl I had a favorite game I loved to play when Mom threw a bridal shower at our house. She would come from another room carrying a tray. This tray would be filled with odds and ends from around the house. We were given one minute to look over these random pieces in order to remember as many as we could. When the minute was up, the tray was taken from the room. I remember sitting with my pencil in hand trying to remember every detail. It always amazed me how many items I forgot about after staring intently on them.

As I fall asleep each night my mind wanders over what happened during the day. Sometimes I find myself drifting back to many years ago. I’ll take a walk through my Grandparents house, or meander through my first grade classroom. I sit down in the labor room where my third child was born, and watch the events as they happened, and the people that came to visit me.

What a privilege to remember. I can go back to my first dance with my husband, and still remember how it felt to cuddle up with my blanket in my bed when I was a little girl. These are escapes, treasured places I can hold onto when I need to stop and float for awhile.

God brings a tray to us at different times of our lives. It’s filled with bits and pieces of a story He has written for us. I don’t want to waste my time being distracted by what doesn’t matter. Each tray is here for a moment of time, after the moment, it is gone.

Posted in Attic    |   Tags: Memory
0 comments | published by Linda | November 18, 2009

Job 38:26
“To cause it to rain on a land where there is no one, a wilderness in which there is no man.”

I can still feel the sun on my face, and the sounds of the insects in the bushes surrounding me. This is one of my favorite childhood memories, a walk in the wilderness. As a child I enjoyed being outdoors, cozy in a sleeping bag, hiking by day, and campfires at night.  A little yellow flower off to the side of the path caught my eye. No one else around me seemed to notice it, yet its yellow color was so bright it made me smile. I noticed a leaf under the face of the flower had been torn. I pulled the torn leaf from the flower and placed it in my pocket. I wanted to remember. I immediately turned my head to the sky wanting to show my Lord how grateful I was that He chose to place that flower there, just for me.

During the years that followed, I found many more yellow flowers in my life. From the simple privilege of laughter, to feeling my baby’s hand against my cheek, I have truly been blessed. I have also stumbled on many rocks that were before me. From the pain of saying a final goodbye, to waiting outside of the operating room while my child was in surgery, I have experienced heartache.

“To cause it to rain on a land where there is no one, a wilderness in which there is no man.” It’s so easy to take center stage, to assume it’s all for me, yet He causes it to rain where there is not man. My God overflows with gifts for me, and delights in my joy. Likewise He delights Himself, even in my absence.

My Lord hand placed that beautiful yellow flower that now continues to bloom in my memory. Yet as I think of that wilderness path I once traveled down, I realize that it may possibly be raining there right now, where I am not.

Posted in Attic    |   Tags: Rain in the Wilderness