5 comments | published by Linda | June 20, 2010
Sitting there beside him watching Toy Story, I realized the parallel. For years there were toys scattered across the floor of his room, filling bins and buckets, and lined up on his shelves. His certain prized toys were given the privilege of going with him when he left his room. There was a certain yellow bus that fit perfectly in his hand. After the years of being carried here and there, the paint had been mostly rubbed off. His favorite toys were loved so much that they were worn out, yet became more valuable to him as the years went by. 

His room today is not littered with Legos, or Sesame Street cars. They have been replaced with piles of laundry and shoes that could hold twenty Matchbox cars at a time. His laptop takes the center spot on his desk, and it now has the privilege of going with him when he leaves the room.

I have held onto the toys that once mattered to him most. They might not hold any value to others, yet they are priceless to me. Each toy reminds me. When I see them, or hold them in my hand, I can remember how he brought them to life, how they somehow became real. These represent memories that I will want to recall.

As I stand beside him now, knowing my time with him here in my home is short, I glance back. The years of hearing his laughter in the halls, his voice calling out for me, and our conversations that have magically blended one year into another fill me. 

The hands that once rubbed the paint off of the bus, are the same hands that I held as I first experienced motherhood. Through these years together, spending my days beside him, I also have been brought to life, and somehow become real. 
Posted in Living Room    |   Tags: Toy Story
4 comments | published by Linda | June 17, 2010
While driving through my new neighborhood, I noticed a Cafe on the corner with a 24 hour sign posted in the front. It's good to know. There is a place to go, no matter what the hour, if the need arises.  

Sometimes we might find ourselves out, hungry, thirsty, or just needing to rest when most are asleep. Those 24 hour signs, become bright spots on a dark night. 

My oldest knows I'm here. There have been times when he has come to wake me because he needs to talk. I'm thankful. Just knowing that he has chosen me to talk with, to ask, and to discuss life with is more than enough to put my sleep off. After our midnight talks, I fall asleep in tears, so thankful for this blessing.

Our older children especially, might not call on us when we're at our finest and in peak energy. Teenagers are known for late hours, and a sudden desire to talk when the lights go out. It is our choice to be open 24 hours a day, or not. 

We must realize that we don't only have needs that must be met during regular business hours. Our Lord is there for us no matter what the hour. What a privilege to know He doesn't make us wait until morning. He is always there for us. 

If it is our goal to give our children a tiny glimpse of the God they will be leaning on throughout their lives, what kind of sign should be posted out in front of us?

Posted in Living Room    |   Tags: Open 24 Hours
1 comment | published by Linda | June 12, 2010
It might be the glare they let off that annoys her. Each evening when I slip my glasses on, she quickly pulls them from my face and says she wants my "dalasses off". It's important for her to be able to "see mommy eyes." Once they're off, I might not be able to see quite as well, but she's able to see into my eyes, and that is paramount. I can always see, and as a woman because of God's design, I can see others clearly, which can be a blessing or not.

While sitting in the back row of the church, it's easy to become distracted. It's not difficult to pick out the couples who have had a difficult morning, to notice the tag on the back of a dress sticking straight up, or the kid that has become busy hanging off his chair in order to see if his hair can touch the floor. Watching a lady with a bad attitude and a father not knowing how to handle his daughter in his lap can make your mind wander. Being able to see inside peoples moods, facial expressions and body language can be entertaining and helpful, but also a danger that can quickly lead us to becoming critical and judgmental.

Sometimes it's necessary to take off our glasses as women, and offer grace and love, just because. Never letting our clear vision cloud our judgement in viewing others in a way that is pleasing to our Lord, is a must. Becoming tripped up by finding flaws in others blocks us from being able to love rightly.

As she once again takes off my glasses, I am reminded to let my Lord do the same when my heart needs a check. I might not be able to see quite as well, but He's able to see into my eyes, and that is paramount.

Posted in Living Room    |   Tags: Take Your Glasses Off
2 comments | published by Linda | June 10, 2010
While reaching for her pink plastic horse, getting ready to place it in the box, she put her hand on its head. "Going to the new house?" she asked. This was repeated for hundreds of items that I was busy packing up for our upcoming move. She was excited, yet a bit unsettled. Watching all of our treasures slowly getting closed inside numerous boxes, our house was becoming empty.

As we were on the plane, with her backpack of most important items at her feet, she leaned on me. Looking up at me she asked if we could go home. I held her face in my hands and looked into her eyes. I told her I was here, and where I am, she is home.

Somewhere between the here and there, I became restless in the changes placed before me. The home behind me now stood empty, and the one ahead was equally empty, yet in my mind it was already filled. My body was tired, and the hearts of my six children needed constant reminders of their security. I often opened my palms up to the Lord, and longed.

The boxes now torn open, are stacked by the front door. Crumpled newspaper fills trash bags in a pile, and looks like giant snowmen invading our entry. One at a time, when my children need to check in, they come to me. Holding onto me, they look into my eyes and are reminded they are home.

As I stop and look up, even though surrounded by chaos at my feet, I am reminded. Whenever my eyes turn to Him, I am settled. This life is a house for a time, but I know that this is not my home. There is a place up ahead that I cannot yet imagine, and it will be good. For now I can know, just like my little daughter, wherever I am with my Lord, I am home.
Posted in Living Room    |   Tags: Going Home
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