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Jesus Storage

I dreamt of Jesus last night. 

He had come down to live with me. And was hanging in my closet. On a hanger.

I don’t know exactly why, but my guess is I was hoarding him there to add to my collection of special occasion outfits.

He was there, but out of the way.  Not an active relationship, but still there just in case. Kinda like a fur coat works for Texans, you don’t really need it but on the rare occasion you do, its great to have. I didn’t want to wear Jesus everyday, but on the rare occasions I desperately needed him, He came in clutch.

Seems to track. 

In my dream, someone kept coming to get him and He would sadly nod, and start walking away with them. 

Then I would yell after Him, “Wait!  You can’t leave, you said you were always going to be with me!”

Jesus would put his head down, drop his shoulders and walk back to hang himself back up on a coat hanger in my closet.  His face was sorrowful, his movements heavyhearted, and even though He wanted to spend his days walking alongside me, He knew I didn’t have the same desire. So He willingly stayed where I left him, collecting dust in my closet.

This happened several times. 

Until I realized how wasted He was there and gently told him He could go.

I told him He had done his job. He had loved me well and taught me unconditional love. 

I let Him go. I’ll never forget the mournful look in his eyes. His heart was broken for me, but He did as I ask.

I let Jesus go.

Rather than take Him out of the closet to clothe myself in Him every day. To be clothed in His strength, grace, dignity, and faith. For Jesus to live alongside me and not tucked away in a closet. 

Why have I forgotten how amazing it feels to live life with coordinating footsteps?

I want to take Jesus out of storage, blow the dust bunnies off, and steam the coat hanger wrinkles out of his shoulders. Not just for His upcoming birthday celebration, but for always.

I hope the closet will remain a visual for me. I hope to look up to the place Jesus was hanging, take Him down, put Him on like the finest garment I own, place my hand in His and tackle every day together.

Jesus, you are welcome here.

December 12, 2022 by
Friendship, Lessons, Love, Prayer

Happy Gilmore Grief

“Maybe it doesn’t matter whether something is a coincidence or a sign, maybe the best way to cope with the loss of the people we love is to find them in as many places and things as we possibly can.  And in the off chance that the people we lose are still somehow able to hear us, maybe we should never stop talking to them.”

I pulled out of my neighborhood one morning recently, to see two guys in the pasture across the way making erratic movements with their bodies. I kept watching, trying to figure out if they were fighting, dancing, or having synchronized seizures. After a bit I realized they had golf clubs in their hands, one was teaching the other how to swing like Happy Gilmore.

I had to smile. Our friend Brad had the Happy Gilmore swing down to an art, it was one of the first things Chad experienced when meeting him on the golf course the day of our wedding. I teared up and drove off with a wistful smile. 

Brad left this world last fall and we all miss him so deeply it physically hurts.  The weeks after he left were the saddest of my life, I saw him and felt him everywhere.  I started writing down all the “Heavenly Hugs” that we got throughout the day because I never wanted to forget them or second guess the miracle of them when looking back later in life. 

The day of his funeral services, I arrived a few hours early.  After sitting in an empty parking lot for a bit, I got the courage to go inside and ask if I could see him.  Walking up to his casket in the quiet room, I swear I could hear him chuckling at me in his good natured way, knowing I would do this.

“Did you make it to heaven okay my friend?  Why did you have to get there before the rest of us?”

They say you can drown in two inches of water, it doesn’t have to be a flood, but water steadily flapping at our ankles. Grief seems to be the same. Grief can drown us, yet doesn’t kill us. It keeps us submerged for long enough that we forget what air and sunshine feels like.  Grief sets it’s own timeline, and the only way out is through. 

On the drive out to our family Deer Camp, there are huge piles of sand that have been there for some time. Deep crevices, and gullies have formed in the hills.  I think that is what a grieving heart looks like. Withered and dehydrated as it is enduring the hardships of bad weather and the scorching sun. 

Desolate. 

After Brad’s service, several of us went to find dinner. We ended up at a hole in the wall Mexican food restaurant (later learning it was Brad’s local favorite).  We gathered around the table, somber and quiet. We slowly started reminiscing and telling stories of our beloved friend.  Laughter ensued at the sweet memories of a childhood well lived. 

Crevice by crevice, our hearts have slowly plumped back up. Never to where they were before, but instead of craters there are the cracks that heartbreak brings.  We linked arms and grieved together which makes it closer to bearable.

The worst days ahead were watching his family live without him. His beautiful, beloved wife holding her head high as she has to go on raising their boys who they love so fiercely. His daughter and sons, figuring out how to continue to live without their biggest fan having an earthly voice.

We have learned how to honor Brad the most by continuing to live. We continue to live, laugh, love, and learn because his time doing that here has passed. They say grief is the receipt of how much you love a person. If that is true, we would do it all over again. It was worth it. I would only have loved deeper and wider. 

Happy 1st Heavenly Birthday Brad Haugen. Thank you for all the love and lessons. Thank you for your friendship. Life is moving at a rapid speed, and yet you still manage to get our attention and make us smile. All the way from heaven. I hope you’re showing someone up there how to perfect the Happy Gilmore swing.

*Recently Brad’s oldest son celebrated the end of 5th grade with a Bon Voyage celebration. They dressed up in Hawaiian shirts, Eli asked to wear the one he got his dad for his birthday last year. When I saw Vanessa’s post, I immediately thought of a favorite picture of Brad and their boys. I know he is so proud of all of them.

 

**Quote from Reminders of Him by Colleen Hoover

June 20, 2022 by
Family, Grace, Lessons, Love, Parenting

Glimpses of Glory

I’ve recently learned a secret.  Perhaps the last on earth to know.

Adult children still require parenting.

On one hand, I’m really thrilled about this, as I’m not ready to be done. 

On the other, I think it’s rude and a bit overwhelming.

In case your angels are still little, and you are thinking I’m horrible for having another hand of feelings other than joy, allow me to wearily continue. 

Parenting adults sometimes looks like this – 

Riding in the passenger seat, traveling at the speed of light.  Which turns out to be exactly 96 mph on the highway. Glancing over to notice your precious Man-baby is driving with his knees and looking at his phone anchored on the dashboard.  Instead of reaching for the ol’ faithful mom-gasp, you dig deeper for a calm voice and with white knuckles say, “Babe, you can drive 96 mph, and you can watch America’s Next Top Model.  But, you may not do both at the same time.”

Luckily, the end result is them rolling their eyes, pulling over and giving you reign of the wheel.  Because isn’t that what we are most comfortable with? 

On the other hand…Parenting adults sometimes looks like a glimpse of pure sunshine. 

Recently we met a large group of folks out for dinner.  We happened to have all children in town for the evening and told them to stop by and join us.  It was a casual dinner at a fun restaurant, where everyone can go order their own food at their own pace.  We were settled in for the long haul, relaxing and visiting with friends as the boys joined us one by one.  As they each came in our boys took their hats off, shook hands with the adults, made eye contact, smiled, and appropriate small talk.  Angels sang as their parents inwardly rejoiced, for on this night, all boys remembered the manners taught to them.

As the evening went on, I kept overhearing a guy at the next table quoting scripture to his friend.  A lot of it.  His quoting voice was a little sharp and hard.  He kept looking over at one of my handsome sons who has his own beautiful, unique style. This night’s attire could be categorized as “Homeless Chic” – an oversized t-shirt that could fit all the neighborhood children, shorts, layers of earrings and necklaces, complete with a bandana tied around his head as if he were about to head to an audition of the next Karate Kid remake.

I ignored the mans stares, figuring he was also a fan of Mr. Miyagi.  I mean, who isn’t?

Another one of our boys came in, kindly saying hello to everyone before sitting down to eat. This darling of ours is a huge Man-child.  He is 6’3” and works out like a beast. He also eats like one, reminding me often that I “don’t have to be hungry to eat” and other crazy things kids say these days.  

The man at the next table ramped up the scripture quoting as he continued to stare at our family.  This time I figured he was simply intrigued by the beautiful sleeves of tattoos down Man-Child’s huge arms, each one telling their own story.  Stories that belong to the sweet soul those muscles carry around.

We ignored that man all night.  His judgment, his self righteous bible quoting, the anger and irritation that radiated off of him, and the dirty looks he returned my smiles with.  We focused on the friends who found the treasures these boys hold. 

When we left, I couldn’t quit replaying the night in my head.  Then I got mad.

Really mad.  

And then I got sad.  

Really, really sad. 

I think the man believed he was doing right for the Kingdom.  I believe he was quoting scripture as he understands it.  I believe he was sticking close to his beliefs and faith, holding on to them with a clenched fist.  Gripping his beliefs so tight that Jesus slipped right out of his fingers, as there was zero evidence that comes from a relationship with our Gentle Savor..  None of the softness that comes from knowing Him.  No acceptance or love.

Jesus was present though. He was shining through all the decorations on our grown children. Their kindness. Their gentleness. Their willingness to drive in town, on their own gas, to eat with the parentals. Their obedience and manners.  Their love. Their acceptance of themselves and everyone else at the table, old or not.

If Jesus had come in to eat and drink wine on tap, I can’t help but think he would have chosen to sit at the boys table.

To answer the question that covered every bracelet and bookmark from the 90’s – #WWJD?

#HWLF

He would love first. He always does.

What if that is all we had to do? Love, above all things.

It would definitely free up more of our time to parent.

Apparently that job never ends.

*There is an adult pictured above that I do not parent. He has two parents that have raised him, Chad helped for a few years and I am simply an extra that gets to enjoy him. I am the mom in this house though, therefore sometimes he gets grouped in with the others.

**Photo By Marlo Collins

April 18, 2021 by
Grace, Gratitude, Growth, Priorities, Renewed, Rest

Wide Open Spaces

Wide open spaces are balm to the unrested soul and a brain that doesn’t take a breather.

Last week I put my social secretary on probation, because she stinks. She is a people lover who wants to do all the things. She overcommits me, leaves zero breathing room between appointments, and runs an exhausting schedule that makes one want to fake their own death. Her only saving grace is she has learned some fires aren’t ours, therefore don’t need our irons in them.  She just needs to learn to say a gentle “no thank you” more often.

Also, she is me.

You too?

A while ago I heard an analogy that I wish I remembered well. The gist of it is this…

Imagine all the magnets you have on your refrigerator, each representing an area of your specific life. Family, Friends, Career, Spiritual Life, Health, Exercise, Recreation, Hobbies, Causes you support, Relaxing, Emotional growth, etc. Add what you need to make it tailored to you.

Once you have all your magnets, move them all to the side of the fridge. Only 6 magnets can fit on the front of the appliance. Choose your Top 6 to reflect what you can focus on in this current season of life.

While you love all the magnets, you can only focus on the six on the front of your refrigerator. You are welcome to switch them out at any seasonal change, but only six can be front and center. Those are your current mainstays.

What if we committed to be kinder to ourselves, to honor the season of life we are currently walking through? A gentle no is so much kinder than a stressed yes.

May we leave enough space to take a dang breath.

March 21, 2021 by
Boundaries, Character, Growth, Lessons, Patience, Prayer, Uncategorized

The Highish Road

Let’s be honest…

The high road is not known for being fun and flashy. 

It’s dusty and less traveled enough to not even have a speed limit.

There is no “entrance high” when ramping onto the high road.  If we got the same kick out of taking the high road than we do taking the Loop around Austin, more people would gladly choose it.   Most times there isn’t even a buzz 100 miles into the journey.  It usually comes much later, when looking back and understanding the sanity and peace of traveling this dumb road.  More importantly, the necessity of the LESSON which ended you up on the highish road. 

Truthfully, most times I’d rather just take the Middle Road. Where you can at least get by with a clever snapback.  Because man, there are some good ones for all the Karens and Janets.  

I’ve found myself more times in the swamp.  Not being able to quiet that sharp tongue.  Which never ends up feeling good.  It’s like missing the exit for the Loop and getting stuck in the muck of traffic, downtown Austin. When everything is blurted and off your chest, you think you’ll be free as a lark, instead you feel as low as a toad. 

That being said, I don’t know which road this essay puts me on.  I’m aiming for a higher one.  My hope is to share a little in hopes to help gracefully release some old tie downs that could be holding us back.   

Next to the trinity of my Maker, my husband and boys – extended family and friendships mean everything to me.  Every single thing.  Until they threaten the 5 things in front of them. 

I have created some sturdy boundaries, built through the years which have strengthened me to release some relationships that aren’t healthy for my family or our peace. 

When one continues to speak poorly about your family or children…release them.  It only seems reasonable to recognize their Exit sign.  According to their choices, they chose to sit in an Exit row, accepted the guidelines from the cute flight attendant (think 1980s stewardess here) when moving to that seat, and therefore pulled their own cord to exit your airplane.  Bless them as they float away. 

One can quietly honor the duration of a relationship, including the sharing that happened within it, and 100% be walking yourself and family back to your own bubble of peace, sanity and home.  Even when we are mentally on an airplane where you can’t control the roster or seating arrangement, we can close our eyes and visualize yourself walking back to 1st class, and pulling the curtain closed behind you. Like in the movie Bridesmaids, some of the noisy ones are in coach – ready to par-tay with your emotions and life when you just desperately need silence, peace, air pods, and maybe a glass of wine.

Even when others won’t take themselves on a road a little higher, YOU can. I’d like to think it’s possible that when we choose the elevated path, we can silently wish the person who put you on it would go climb a really tall and really thick cactus. I haven’t confirmed this, but feel God might overlook the later because of the earlier? I don’t know, maybe do your own prayer time on that.

Brene Brown tells us that when we are nervous, we always revert back to our highest level of training.  I think this also works with emotional training.  If we are in the habit of choosing our prayers, our words, our friends, our actions, our habits, and our surroundings wisely…we can slowly create a solid character that wouldn’t dream of taking any other path.

Wouldn’t it be nice to always travel the speedy loop?  To stay grounded and pay attention to the exits given which lead us to those highish paths.  They aren’t always the easiest, but they always end up bringing the most peace. Always. I wish that peace for you friend.

*In complete transparency…

This essay was written a long while ago. It was snappy, written in the weeds of hurt feelings and anger. It was written because I had begrudgingly ended up on the high road. I wanted off of it, and this essay was my ticket. A friend encouraged me to sit on it because she thought I was better than that. Or perhaps hoped me to be? After rolling my eyes and presenting a strong argument that I definitely was not better… I relented. I sat on it, occasionally going back to remove a sharp elbow, one at a time. A dagger here, a swift kick there – all sad feelings processed individually and worked through. Until eventually, I didn’t feel anger or sadness when reading it. Just resolve wrapped in peace.

**Photo by my crazy talented friend Gary Richardson

February 12, 2021 by