6 comments | published by Linda | November 24, 2010
It didn't scare me, it was where I wanted to be. The storm held the drama, so that's where you'd find me. When I heard the sound of the rain pounding on the roof, I ran through the front door, across the lawn and into the center of the street. My hair would slowly wrap around my head, and stick to my face, as my clothes began to feel like armor that draped across me. The wind pushed and pulled, I laughed. I danced. 

There's something magical about a dance in the rain. The unpredictable winds, matched by the inescapable down poor, it's all good. The finale was the best, as I would watch the rainbow wrap across the sky, I was reminded. I knew He was reminded. I smiled.

I now watch my kids run into the storm. Thoughts go through my mind as I watch them dance of the extra laundry, and puddles on the floor that would be ahead, but the dance is worth it. They are fearless in the storm, it's all good.

Pointing their eyes to the arch in the sky, I want them to be reminded. 

No matter how hard the storm may blow, they can trust, they can know, they can dance. The rainbow, although untouchable, is something they can hold onto. They can trust him through any storm that he brings. He has made a promise, and they can dance.

People often long for what's at the end of the rainbow, or somewhere over it, but for me, it's somewhere under the rainbow. That's where you'll find me.

Posted in Play Room, Attic    |   Tags: Somewhere Under the Rainbow
4 comments | published by Linda | November 21, 2010

"When I was just a little girl, I asked my mother what will I be? Will I be pretty, will I be rich?"....I was just a little girl, but the question mattered. I loved to be told that I was a pretty little girl. Pretty mattered. It matters to all of us. Why? We know the power of pretty.


Growing into our teen years is not a smooth transition. These years bring braces, acne, and the sudden need for makeup. Drinking diet soda and eating diet bars in order to keep our jeans fitting our changing figures, we know that pretty is paramount. 


When we enter motherhood, pregnancy affects our pretty. Something about the extra pounds we acquire, along with skin and hair changes, we feel less pretty.


As we look ahead to the wonder years, I am certain we will be offered creams, hair color, and diet programs that we can invest in. These are small attempts to hold onto pretty as long as possible. I have seen some older women, desperately trying to hold on...and it's not pretty.


My girls now look up at me, with a diet soda in hand, and ask..."Will I be pretty?"...Oh yes, I want to teach them that they will be pretty. They will be pretty strong, pretty kind, pretty patient, pretty joyful and loving. They will be pretty filled with their Lord, and his love for them. 


Diet sodas and protein bars, little calories and starvation won't bring them to this point. Only by feasting regularly in his presence, and in his word will make them beautiful before him. We can't starve ourselves to the point of beauty. We have to eat. We have to eat regularly. 


Becoming distracted by the need for pretty keeps us from what matters. We must draw close to him, let him do the work within us. As his child we can then ask, "What will we be? Will we be pretty, will we be rich?"...can you hear his answer?

Posted in Powder Room    |   Tags: Am I Pretty?
3 comments | published by Linda | November 13, 2010
There is a certain look, that if used well, can have quite an impact. Parents know how to use it, kids fear it... at least for a time.

As I walk into their bedroom, it is easy to show my frustration, disappointment, and a touch of unnecessary judgment through my eyes as I scan across the piles of laundry and scattered stuff across their dresser. I'm a mom. I like clean. I also like to be listened to. I know that one request to have a job done is enough. If it doesn't get my desired response, I have a choice.

Nagging has never been my style, yet I know some choose it. I, however have a built in power that comes through my expression. It can pierce straight through my children if I use it, and is certain to cause some serious damage. 

God never intended for such manipulation, guilt, and shame to be used as a consequence as I train them up. These can break the relationship I want to have with them into the future, and drapes them with shame that will only discourage them. Why would I ever want to shelter them from life that is sure to hit them hard if they don't know how to take responsibility for their lives?

They must reap what they sow, plain and simple. If a child's job is not completed, they must lose, somehow. This is their problem, not mine. I can be empathetic with them as they face the consequences of the poor choices they might make, but I must let them happen. 

It is important, however, that their problem doesn't shift...and become me.

Posted in Play Room    |   Tags: Their Problem
2 comments | published by Linda | November 09, 2010

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    |   Tags:
3 comments | published by Linda | November 07, 2010

Whenever we brought it with us, we were slowed down. I grew up spending many hours in the backseat of a dark blue station wagon.  As we traveled down the highway I remember the tug of the white trailer we pulled.

Consistently residing in the slow lane, I watched out the window as others passed us, and wondered what it would be like to move so fast. 

With the trailer, steep hills and mountains brought risk and fear. Mom and Dad would discuss the scenarios of possibilities as I would listen, and picture what could happen. Creeping upward, our car shook. I shook. If only we didn’t have the extra weight, we’d travel easier, and maybe the mountains would be fun.   

How quickly we hitch up a trailer of worry and fear, and drag it behind us. We are slowed down, and watch as others pass by with ease. When a trial comes before us like a mountain, our trailer shakes. We shake. So simple to let our mind wander into the pictures of what could happen. 

Why bring it? We must daily unhitch the stress and worries that can drag us down, and make the mountains we come to seem overwhelming. Better to fill our minds with thankfulness, and trust in our Lord.

If we notice we have hitched it up again, we can make a choice to break free, drive fast, and arrive on that mountain top. Travel light.

Posted in Attic    |   Tags: Travel Light
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