Reflections of September 11

 I remember when the planes went into the twin towers.  Hallie turned 3 years old that day.  For whatever reason, after church on Sunday 2 days before, I had an urge to rearrange her birthday party and we had a spontaneous Sunday party, instead of the Tuesday we had planned.  Because 2 days later, thousands of people died.  There wasn't much celebrating in our home.  This was already a hard time of year for us, as my dad died at the age of 60 September 12, 1994.   I always said that God gave me Hallie in September to give us something joyous to celebrate at the time we were so sorrowful.  Pulled our attention away from the grief of losing the patriarch of our family.  God has been faithful to us, far before I acknowledged that it was God's hand.

I heard something that made me really sad on the radio as I was driving home from Hallie's birthday extravaganza this morning.... The year after the attack almost every american was flying a flag at their home in memory of the precious lives lost that day.  Now 9 years later, there are just a smattering of flags here and there.  Why do people forget?  Why do people get so busy in their everyday lives that they forget all the things that should shape us??  I, for one, will fly my flag every September 11 until the day I die.  I will NEVER forget.

Lacey has been very down this past week.  Rain and cloudy weather make us always down, this year even more so.  I walked into her house last night, and she was just crying and holding a book.   "WHAT??"  my heart pounding....  "Mom, it's our book from the funeral home"  (where all of you precious ones went and wrote your tribute to Laynie)   "It's EXACTLY what I needed, because I need to know her life made a difference, and that it mattered."   Oh my heart.  Oh my aching heart.   Not only for my own loss of a precious lil miracle that carries my heart, but for my precious firstborn who carries my heart as well.  How can I ease her pain, when my own is triplefold??

I know Laynie impacted you people.  I see her fan base still growing, and I know you are sharing her story.  Her life MATTERED, and I hope in the everyday of your lives, you don't stop telling her story.   Don't quit flying your flags and don't ever forget a tiny baby that changed us all.

God is Good, All the Time.

I carry your heart....

i carry your heart with me, i carry it in my heart

i am never without it

anywhere i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done

by only me is your doing, my darling

i fear no fate, for you are my fate, my sweet

i want no world, for beautiful you are my world, my true

and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart, i carry it in my heart...

Musing #3 of Eat pray Love .... Time for "Love"

It's ironic, and yet it's not, that the last 3 of my musings, comes down to "Love" on the day I had my first date in 18 months. It was a cool date.. a guy from Match.com no less (I've stopped calling it Match.ho, in hopes that it will get better if I don't make fun of it), and he was just delightful. Sharp, funny, gorgeous, loves his kids, has a job (a biggie for me), and just nice as could be. So what did I do, but freeze up and be a total dweeb. I think dating takes practice. It's not like riding a bicycle, something you never forget, I think it's more like roller skating, the older you get the more cautious and slower you go. Well, I rollerskated for the first time since the breakup and it was a pleasant delightful surprise. Will he call me again?? Who knows, all I know is I finally got the guts up to finally do it, and it was fun.



In the "Love" portion of the book, Liz is in Bali... a beautiful place where she works with an old wise man that teaches her about moving on and loving herself, and a healer woman that Liz helps build a home. The Healer tells her, after Liz gets her leg hurt in a bike accident, bluntly, "you need sex, your knees tell me this". Hmm. I won't go out and tell you EVERYTHING I'd like to write about this subject, but I think that sometimes it's not all about your knees. Just sayin.

Liz finds (and since this was a true story, and not my soft porn fiction I so adore that ALWAYS turns out with a happy ending) her True Love at the end of the book. When she finally opens her heart and lets go of all her past garbage, she finally gets the baggage out of her heart and it frees up the space that has been closed with the garbage, and she finds love again. This book gave me hope.

And without hope....you've got nothing. I learned that from a lil baby, that taught us all. Dating is a bit like a job interview. It's just a process to finding your perfect fit. I think when I can let go of the "Junk" from the past, which I have finally done, I'm allowing all the joy that I have to give and receive become a reality.

Cause as you ALL know... I'm kind of a big deal. so is Liz, Eat Pray & Love...read it.

God is Good, all the time.

Eat Pray & Love Musings..... "Pray" ... "open heart" warning...feelings exposed

http://www.jesusrockz.net/2010/01/before-the-morning-josh-wilson-with-lyrics

You gotta listen to that first. Better yet, listen while you are reading. The second "musing" of my three "musings" of this book that so seared into me, has to start And End with this song.

Liz is despairing, at the most holy of places, an Ashram in the center of India, the highest temples of meditation and prayer, of a lost love. "I loved him, I miss him, Who am I without him?" she wails to her friend. Phew. Talk about hitting me right where my mama lives. Wham. Solar plexus, no holds barred wham to the stomach. If you are reading this and are lucky enough to have never lost a marriage, then you are fortunate indeed and I envy, without any malice, you and your spouse. I have not attained what you have attained. I have not had the joy of sharing my life with someone I love and adore. I was far too young the first time, and though I hold him in the highest regard, admire him completely and am proud to be his friend, we never attained one-ness. The second time was just a crapped out mess before it started, so there was nothing but addiction and pain involved in that deal. The only good thing to come out of it was my daughter. Only thing. So I have done nothing but screw up and screw up and screw up. Then I quit dating.....for awhile and tried to catch my breath. After that second attempt at marriage, it sucked all that is holy out of me and I had to find myself again. And when I did, I really liked me. It took me a long time to forgive myself of all the mistakes I had made, but I did it,and best of all, I finally believe that God forgave me too. That took me a long time to grasp and realize. Then I started to power date... because NEVER again was I going to get sucked into a bad pain filled mess....ever, and power dating seemed to be the way to do that. Many interesting men, many interesting stories, no real intimacy, no real "life"...just play and go. Most empty feeling ever. Then right when I finally gave up, I thought (mistakenly) that God had dropped me my "Big Red Bow" in my lap in the form of a "Big Bowed Up Red Neck". I was given a glimpse of what life should be for everyone. Four years and many happy days later, with very little warning, he left me. We didn't fight, we hummed along like ham and eggs, and then one day he's just done. Kaput. Over. Does this sound familiar to any of you? And the worst part, when looking for reasons..... "It's just me, It's not you" Men, if you are reading this and thinking of ever using it, I just want to tell you, that is worse than saying, "I just hate everything about you and need out." At least that gives us something to work with.

So anyway, I feel alot of kinship with this lady that wrote this book. Here she is in the most holy of places and she can't get over the fact that life threw her a curve ball. She didn't lose a beloved grandbaby, she didn't lose a parent, she lost a love....and I can feel her pain in every word. Now her friend, who is a no nonsense Texan that calls her "Groceries" given her passion to eat, tells her (and I am going to tattoo this on my forehead) "You can look back on all this someday and see when you finally gave way to that door to close, that you finally had enough room to let real love in. Don't be the junkyard dog that keeps licking that empty can, long after any nourishment is gone. Don't have your nose buried so deep in that empty can that you can't get out of it". Squirm. Long sigh. Squirm. I'm a freakin junkyard dog, and I have let it happen.

The wonderfulness of all of this, is it means I am not alone. If she felt the EXACT same feelings, then I am not alone. What I know for a one hundred percent fact though is "I am kinda of a big deal". And if I don't believe it, who else will?? I watch my single friends struggle with the same issues, and I am encouraged. It probably wasn't about me. It probably was all about him. And after a year and a half of grieving, it's time to move on.

Losing Laynie, and letting go of the dream of a grandbaby has awakened all these dormant feelings of loss with that relationship. And I am powerless to fight them. So I am embracing the pain, the loss of a true love of my precious granddaughter, the loss of a percieved love, and the loss of the dreams those two things represented to me. My family. My precious family. And it's time for "Letting Go". because what does Josh Wilson say in that awesome song I attached ...

Do you wonder, why you have to Feel the things that hurt you, If there’s a God who loves you, where is He now


Maybe there are things you can’t see, And all those things are happening, To bring a better ending


Someday somehow you’ll see you’ll see

Would you dare, would you dare, to believe, That you still have a reason to sing, Cause the pain that you’ve been feeling, It can’t compare to the joy that’s coming, So hold on you gotta wait for the light, Press on and just fight the good fight, Cause the pain that you’ve been feeling, It’s just the dark before the morning


My friend, you know how this all ends, You know where you’re going ,You just don’t know how you’ll get there So say a prayer


And hold on, cause there’s good for those who love God , But life is not a snapshot, It might take a little time, but you’ll see the bigger picture


Would you dare would you dare to believe, That you still have a reason to sing, Cause the pain that you've been feeling, It can’t compare to the joy that’s coming! So hold on you gotta wait for the light, Press on and just fight the good fight, Cause the pain that you’ve been feeling, It’s just the dark before the morning

So, Liz tells us in her book that she Prays to find peace... and I loved how she finally worked through.... instead of dwelling on pain, she prayed for her nephew, took the spotlight off her problems and prayed for the healing and help to someone else, and her true healing began. I don't know how, why, after I totally believed that God had Laynie's plan and I totally gave it all to Him, why I am having such a hard time with this.

I can say this with utter conviction and belief in myself.... Whoever finally finds me, is going to get a dandy... cause I am a dandy, and I am finally 97% believing it. 3% still hurting, but God has him out there for me... and I bet he's looking for me too. I have to burn this into my heart, same as I knew God had Laynie's plan from the very minute she was conceived. IT's all part of the plan, and I have to believe.

God is Good, AND oh so patient with me, All the time.

Eat Pray & Love.... Let's break it down... "EAT" first

I adored this book. If we had got to have the book club dealy I thought we were going to having (clearing throat, Amanda), I would have thrown all this perspective on them.... as it is, I am throwing it on you, my unsuspecting, but usually up to whatever I have to drone on about, friends.


This book is so all encompassing, I have decided I am going to write about it in three parts. First, let's 'eat'.

This book was like reading my diary. Except without any travel, money, or big word usage. So maybe I should rephrase. This chick might be me. It's uncomfortable to read a book and see yourself (especially the unflattering parts) unfold on the pages. Everything she squirmed about that was totally her, was completely me. Except without the big words.

I loved this book so much I read up on her autobiography to see what she is doing today. What really spoke to me was when asked if she ever thought that SO MANY people would read her book, would she have been quite so 'personal" in her telling, she responded, that if indeed she had known, she might have held back some parts, but for the most part, no, she was pleased with the telling. And boy, so was I.

This chick is recovering from basically her "life". She hasn't lost anyone in death, she isn't so broke she is suicidal, but she has made some horrid mis-steps and longs for a better life, a more peaceful existance. So she first heads off to Italy to discover "pleasure". And she finds pleasure in food. THere are chapters that glory over her lunches, gelatos, and bottles of wine. I am intrigued by this, as I am buying a sign for my fridge that says "The only reason there is a kitchen, is because it came with the house".

I cooked when the older girls were babies and young kids. After the divorce, we started on what I like to call, "the lean years" diet. Consisted of alot of hamburgers and hotdogs, and pizza. And I have stuck with this diet most of my life. We'd have some spaghetti, tacos and pizza ring thrown in there now and then, but to say I cook, is a bit of a stretch. Now, I can cook. And when I want to, I can cook dang good. But then there is the aftermath of cooking that wears me out. The cleanup, the leftovers, the dishes. Blek. So I don't mind cooking if someone else will please pick up.

So I loved the whole idea of Liz eating. She just got her some muffin top fitting "Italy" pants and went on. Everything about that appeals to me. Of course, I say that being a 6 foot tall big ole drink of water that can eat anything I want (almost). My idea of a good round food group for breakfast is cheetos, sour/sweet gummie worms, and a DDP. That takes care of dairy (cheetos/cheese/ get it?) fruit (gummy's/vitamin c infused, right?) and DDP, I guess that's my cold caffeine. If you don't believe me, you can ask Amber, at 7-11 down the street, she will vouch for me. I rarely deviate. Though I have to admit, since I have been walking/running/sweating, I don't eat as much crap, and I only have my morning DDP, and have no more the rest of the day. Water, ice tea.. really trying hard here.

Anyhoo, What I derived from the eating in Italy, was that we don't relax enough and enjoy life. It's all hurry up and go, go go. and in Italy it's a slower gentler, easier pace. (But not as slow and gentle in Holland, my most favorite of all places)

So eat, but be smart about it. Walk 10 minutes at least twice a day, and enjoy dessert.

God is Good, all the time.

Zumba...the Lolly way...

I took my first Zumba class last night. I was too tired, too sweaty and too overwhelmed to write about it last night. Now this morning, I'm ready.


First of all, my teacher was an exhuberant African American gal that has rhythm in her hair. just standing still she oozes rhythm. There are just some people that should dance. SHe is one of them. Now the funny part of it is, she thinks EVERYONE else should be able to dance, too. Most of the 20 people in that class kicked booty. I was just happy if I got either my arms going the right way, or forgo the arms, and get my feet going the right way, I think twice I actually suceeded in having both arms and legs moving at the same time. The good thing about Zumba, for most of the people in there, it's about SURVIVAL.


I told the couple behind me I didn't want to hear any snickering, and even that tall ole guy kicked my booty. I looked behind me as we were circling shaking our booties at one point and he was get GETTIN' it. Amazing. I was thankful for the 70 year old guy standing at the end of the row in front of me, because I think we could be the power couple of the class.


BUT, it's all about fun, right?? And it was fun. Until we started kind of bouncing in place, and sure enough, that bladder that used to be young and in charge, might have let me down. Why oh WHY if you do anything of a bouncing nature, nature calls??? I blame it on the watermelons I delivered in form of babies. I do believe they are the reason I can't really jump on a trampoline or bounce like a spring in zumba. Sheesh.


As Hallie and I crawled our sweaty mess selves to the car last night, I was encouraged from my skinny out of shape 11 year old "Are we ever coming back??", knowing full well at that current second the liklihood was slim,  and when I crawled in the house, I looked at the schedule, called Lacey and figured out we'll go on Mondays and Wednesdays every week. Surely I'll get the steps at some point, and who doesn't want to sweat and maybe pee on themselves on purpose?? What a BLAST. And no one CARES if you look like a swan. A big dorky swan, smiling and sweatin like a pig. And after sleeping with foot cramps every 10 minutes ALL NIGHT, (need potassium) I am STILL going back. That is the most fun, sweaty, exhilirating form of excercise I have ever experienced. I am hurting in all my flabby spots this morning (which pretty much means my whole body except my earlobes).


Zumba, slap on a diaper, and GO!

90 minutes in Heaven

I was driving around singing the Revelation Song with my hands in the air, and I reflected on a book I read prior to Laynie. It was a true story titled "90 minutes in heaven". It's a story about a preacher that is on his way home from some church event and his car was smashed by a semi. He was pronounced dead at the scene. A preacher in a car behind him that saw the whole thing, was compelled by God to get out of his car, and go to the scene to assist. Even though the paramedics told him that Don Piper was dead, he said "Something made me go to that car and pray for him". Mr. Piper was so smashed in his car, the preacher could only touch his shoulder, but as he sat there holding the shoulder of a dead man, he prayed. He prayed so hard that he ran out of words to pray. And when he ran out of words to pray he started singing.... and as he was singing, he heard a sound in the car with him. The man that had been pronounced dead, was singing with him. This book rocked my world.



What I remember most about this book was Brother Piper's journey back. It took him a long time to admit to anyone what happened to him during his 90 minutes of "death". What he describes is so beautiful and so powerful, that it changed my entire way of thinking, and it also made me homesick for a place that until then, remained a puzzle to me.


He said that he remembers bright lights, and then the faces of his loved ones, his father, his grandparents...the most beloved people in his life, standing there whole and perfect and with joy permeating through them. Nothing but jubilant joy and happiness and love, he felt all of that in hundredfold. Then he goes on to describe the singing and the colors and the magnificant perfection of what he was experiencing.... I'm not kidding here. It changed me.


I have to believe, and I sincerely 100% believe that little Laynie was greeted by her PawPaw Harold with the most crushing hug she had ever experienced. I remember saying a hundred times during her life to my mom, "Wouldn't dad have just adored her?" and now it's his turn. It's his turn, and my precious memaw, who could cook the meanest meal on the planet, and my aunts and uncles, and all the loved ones that have gone on to the "light and music" of heaven.


If you have not read this book, I highly recommend it. It gave me a peace about dying that nothing else ever has. We are only dead to this worldy existence.... and so alive in what we have been striving for as Christians our entire life..... eternal life with our heavenly Father.


With all our loved ones. There is no way I want to mess that up. I am homesick for the day that I can be reunited with my loved ones. And I don't dread or worry about that at all. I am ready to be part of the eternity that I am promised, given to me from a Savior that died on a cross for me. That is powerful stuff friends.


90 minutes in Heaven.... It's a book to read... but my goal is Eternal life in Heaven.... someday.


God is Good, all the time.