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Why I write

When I finally committed to starting a blog, I asked myself, “what would be the best thing to write about first”? The answer was pretty simple, write about why you write.

As far back as I can remember, I have been writing. I think it was one of the ways I could stand out next to my siblings who were exceptional athletes, though they would pee-shaw that statement,  they were in the trials for the junior Olympics, so that’s pretty good! Poetry was my strong suit. If you could share just a few things with me about someone, something or an event, I could write a poem about it. It was fun, it made people feel good and it made me feel good too.

A few years ago, my nephew Craig was living with us and we were talking about goals, aspirations and dreams. Of course writing professionally was one of mine. He encouraged me to write for 15 minutes everyday, write about something I knew and see what became of it. Well, 15 minutes turned into hours and hours turned into days and before I knew it, I had written a whole book. It was the most exciting creative process I’ve ever experienced, it was exuberant! The only thing  left for me to do is edit it and either self publish it, or get someone to, I will find the time to do that someday, I promise.

Thank you for coming along with me on this journey. I will write about everything and anything. I’ll even take your suggestions, if you’d like. Mostly, I just want to write. I want to encourage, inspire, provoke, motivate and feel the exhilaration of the creative process. I’m excited and hopeful that in turn I will feel all those things as well and finally finish what I began with my book.

To all of you who have been encouraging me for years to publish, share, promote, etc., hopefully this is just the beginning!


He’s my son.

I took about a 4 mile hike this weekend, besides the benefits of calories burned I always find that it clears my head. As I hiked I listened to a few songs on my phone, one was called “He’s my son”, by Mark Schultz. As I listened to the lyrics I found myself overcome with emotion. Here is how it goes:

I’m down on my knees again tonight,
I’m hopin’ this prayer will turn out right.
See, there is a boy that needs your help.
I’ve done all that I can do myself.
His mother is tired, I’m sure you can understand.
Each night as he sleeps she goes in to hold his hand,
and she tries not to cry as the tears fill her eyes.
Can You hear me? Am I getting through tonight?
Can you see him? Can you make him feel all right?
If you can hear me let me take his place some how.
See, he’s not just anyone, he’s my son.
Sometimes late at night I watch him sleep,
I dream of the boy he’d like to be.
I try to be strong and see him through,
But God, who he needs right now is You.
Let him grow old, live life without this fear.
What would I be Living without him here?
He’s so tired, and he’s scared Let him know that you’re there.
Can You hear me? Am I getting through tonight?
Can You see him? Can You make him feel all right?
If you can hear me let me take his place some how.
See, he’s not just anyone, he’s my son.
Can You hear me? Am I getting through tonight?
Can You see him? Can You make him feel all right?
If you can hear me let me take his place somehow.
See, he’s not just anyone.
Can You hear me? Can You see him?
Please don’t leave him,He’s my son.

I can relate to this song in ways that I pray most people will never understand, but it also made me think of other people. Jesus’ mother Mary, for instance. It is inconceivable to me what Mary must have felt as she watched her son be beaten tortured and killed and all for the sake of someone else’s crimes, OURS. Completely inconceivable and heart breaking. Then I think of Hunter Lyons and Gabriel Little, who both struggle with debilitating diseases. I think of how their moms hearts ache for healthy whole young men, and that given the chance they would take on their suffering in a moments notice. As Mother’s there is nothing we wouldn’t do for our kids, even when we disagree with their choices. I find that one of the most difficult tasks of my life is not being an enabler. We were created as women and mothers to be nurturers  and not meeting a need in our child’s life goes against the very grain of how we were designed. But I am learning. Learning to get out of Gods way and let him do what he needs to do. I am learning to trust in his plan even though I truly don’t understand it, to rejoice in circumstances that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy and to thank God for the beauty that he brings from ashes.

Good news, grateful heart.

After months of testing, I finally got the news I was praying for. Benign, benign, the tumor was benign. What a huge relief! As I approach my four year anniversary as a cancer survivor the last thing I wanted was another reason to celebrate another anniversary.I decided that because of the news, I was going to attend my midweek church services. Part of me felt kind of guilty. Did I want to go because I got the results I had hoped and prayed for? I didn’t typically attend midweek services, partly because for the last several years my husband and I and another couple have faithfully watched Survivor together and when it switched from Thursday nights to Wednesday nights, I followed right along. I justified this because my husband is a very hard working man and typically did not get home in time to attend midweek services. So I had to decide, stop this fun tradition that I shared with my husband and friends, or give that up and keep going to church when I knew my husband would not be able to join me. I chose the latter and I don’t believe God thinks any less of me for doing so. But I found myself wondering, would I have wanted to go, would I have still been grateful, would I still have appreciated all the blessings in my life if God had answered my prayer differently? It’s a wonder, I really can’t say. I know that prayers change things, but I also know that God is ultimately the decision maker. And that if it is not his will, if he has better plans, that’s the way it’s going to work. I sometimes feel frustrated by prayer, it’s confusing to me at times. I do feel it strengthens the bond between God and myself and it strengthens the bond between myself and others when we pray together, but when there are two people, who both have cancer, and one is spared and the other is not, and they both have been prayed for and loved by others equally, why does one survive and the other pass. It’s too big for me to conceive. When I pray, I pray with the knowledge that no matter what the answer is, I’m still going to love God, and trust him. There have been too many events in my life that have proven to be worth trusting God. I can honestly say that through my toughest trials is when I have gotten closest to God. I can also say that I don’t necessarily feel he has changed my circumstance but I can say that I felt him gesturing with an outstretched arm, and saying “get over here girl, it’s gonna get a little bumpy soon”. I am grateful for that and the relationship I have with him. So I continue to pray, out of obedience, out of fellowship, out of trust and out of love. I continue to believe and live by the motto, that Father knows best.

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