strength – I Write

Living my truth

I honestly don’t know how much strength it takes to keep on after a big loss(es). You have to be as strong as ____. What would fill in the blank? Steel, a superhero, a diamond? Nothing on earth can prepare anyone to endure certain losses.

What is my truth? I will just list some words that apply. Losing parents, siblings, divorce, empty nesting, losing homes.

Those are some of the losses.

These are the wins:

The love of my children, the love and support I receive through friends, family and strangers. The amount of love I still have in my heart to give to others. Finding my truth, my voice and the strength to help others who have even greater suffering than I do.

I choose to share what it is that keeps me going after all the things I’ve suffered and endured because it is there for those who seek, for those who are out of options, for those who are tired. It’s there for those who have cried enough, who are sad and sinking. It is available just for the asking.

It’s’ the strength from God’s love. That is where I believe it comes from.

Philippians 4:16

“I can do all this through him who strengthens me.”

Chocolate Pumpkin

I didn’t win the pinwheel contest, after looking at my pinwheel again, I could see why. No matter, for my next contest, the pumpkin painting contest!

I enjoy chocolate, especially dark chocolate. That is what inspired me. I hope you guessed either a candied Apple or a chocolate covered cherry. Regardless, again I had fun participating.

Life is too hard not to have fun or at least participate in. Just try.

I lost my Dad October 1, 2021 and my Mom on October 3, 2018. Autumn is a bittersweet time for me, I love it and have some hard memories in it. So, that’s why I try… to have fun.

A Change

It’s subtle, but the signs appear.

Cooler evenings. Dew on grass.

Leaves waving, a branch bending, colors changing.

The sky changes, the air thins, the sun weakens.

A season ending, a season beginning.

Missing the old, embracing the beauty of the new.

Like a raging toddler to a calmer kindergartener,

From clumsy puppy to a stately dog.

Miss the old, embrace the new.

From running swiftly, to aching muscles,

From fresh ideas to reminiscing.

dog on concrete road — Photo by Daniel Frank on Pexels.com

From youth to old.

Miss the old, embrace the new.

Next Year’s Bloom

Dear beautiful, grey, mild, temperate, and moody Seattle,

Remember when we first met? I was the girl with a ready smile and wave. That is how I arrived. Unaware, talkative and naive, but eager nonetheless.

You wooed me with your water, delicious and sweet.

You freshened me with your breeze, crisp and floral.

Summer came and more gifts you bestowed.

Mountains unveiled and waters blued. Forests came alive, vegetation unearthed.

Elms, Spruce, Cherry trees and Douglas fir cover the land.

Rosemary, daffodils and tulips fed my nose on my daily walks.

Later, dasies, multi-colored roses, and rododendrons colored the land.

Diablo, dahlias, hydrangea and lilies clothed in vibrancy.

As my eyes scanned the flora, my thoughts rose upward to the Creator

Skies of pink, and shimmering gold braiding the most blue skies.

Then came the fall with its rusty hue and chill. It came to stay and chased the sun away. The dark and grey days began and quickly wore out their welcome.

Winter ensued, leaves falling staging the piney greens. Morning dew crystalized leaves and giving runners a smokey breath.

Inside, blankets and books littered the table while cocoa warmed the hands.

The longing for flowers became a constant dream. I can’t wait until they come…are they here yet? Will today’s sun hold any warmth?

Day after bone chilling day and skin’s tan all the way faded, body fattened and hiding in thickened fibers.

But even then, the beauty remained.

On a rare sunny morning, I glimpsed the mountains in all their “Swiss” beauty They waved a hello and longed for a visitor.

When I bared the cold, and shared the crispy paths with others, I filled my lungs with sharp, biting winds which helped clear the past.

In the wind, I heard, “You’re released.”
I smiled with parched lips, but teared up as the season wrapped up, a promise of another spring affirmed.

I stood…gazing again, stopping. Not wanting to turn away, I looked on, imagining the return of a season in Seattle and realizing then that I would miss next years bloom.

The mess has a purpose

Here on the right is a mess, but without knowing the story, you can’t know how it got to be there, why it’s the way it is and why certain pieces are part of this particular mess. That is because you do not know the planner or the purpose of the planner.

On the left is the outcome of such a mess. Inside the box are lessons that were planned from the mess. Inside the box, are lessons tailor made for the player of the box. It took a mess to get to the plan of the box. The things in the mess are not invaluable. The things left out of the box weren’t insignificant, they just weren’t needed. They didn’t belong in the plan, but they were part of the planning. They were sifted through, and put aside to be used at the right time.

As I look at both sides, the box with a plan and the mess, I ask myself, “Which do I prefer to work with?” I think and the answer is that I prefer the box with activities that I know will work for the player. I choose the box because the things in it have purpose for the growth of the player.

Think of these things. Chew on this analogy. What does it fit in your life?

Broken Glass

I had a dream. In the dream, I was carrying a glass filled with ice-water. I’m usually thirsty in real life if I’m dreaming this, but before waking up, I was bumped into by you know who. He was oblivious to the fact that I was standing right behind him with a glass in my hand. As he bumps into me, the glass falls, not quite shattered, but all the water spilled out of it.

I don’t remember being upset at him. It’s like I expected it. What is memorable is the image of me cleaning up the broken glass and holding up the glass and thinking. “You can’t drink out of a broken glass.” The glass is ruined.

I woke up sad, thirsty and unsatisfied. It was a fitting dream.

Love

It’s not a celebration to reach the year mark of becoming divorced, but it is a milestone of sorts. It means you survived your first year of being single, especially if becoming single for the first time in 25 years!

I’ve had some time to process the loss of my marriage. I can’t say this process is complete. Perhaps it will never be, but some things remain: the love of God, a community of support and peace in my soul.

And I dare say, the beginnings of hope for something new. What does something new look like? It’s found in these verses: Anything other than this is toxic or on it’s way to becoming toxic. Nobody needs that.

Image result for love is patient, love is kind

Lettuce pray…

I had a bout of insomnia a week ago and in the course of that fitful night, an image much like a repeating meme came to my mind.

My (meme) was of a head of romaine lettuce being cut with a pair of kitchen scissors and no matter which way I tried to fall asleep, I kept seeing lettuce being snipped.

(I know, crazy right?)

I finally fell asleep, but in the morning, the image came to mind.

I often feel like God talks to me through my dreams, but an image, or vision of lettuce??

What could the God of the universe have to say through greens?

I felt compelled to put salad on the menu for the coming week. I bought romaine lettuce and other salad ingredients and was ready.

The day came for salad and I eagerly “stepped up to the plate” a little to eager with scissors in my right hand and dripping freshly washed head of romaine in my left hand –salad spinner on the counter.

I shook the head of lettuce over the sink to remove the excess water and before plunging in with the scissors, I gazed at the innocent head of lettuce, took a breath and began the snipping. Just as I thought, the snipping sound itself gave a satisfaction. I smiled as I snipped, snipped and snipped again.

As more and more leaves fell into the salad spinner, the core of the romaine became smaller and lighter. I cut again until just the heart was left, devoid and bald in my hand.

I then put the scissors down and inspected the heart. I turned it around and looked at the stump. After a minute, I very satisfactorily chunked it into the trash can.

I went back to the salad spinner, filled it with water, drained it and began pumping the water out. I used this time to think about what just happened and then fitting words came to my mind. I felt content, satisfied.

I continued spinning the leaves until they were only damp and left the kitchen counter smiling.

It is complete.

Careful …

Just when you think you’ve reached it, your stomach sinks, your dreams change,

Your eyes fill, your color fades.

Be careful.

Take care, remind yourself how far you’ve come.

Don’t let ’em knock you down.

Take a mental health break.

Be good to yourself when you’ve been punched yet again.

Remember, your scars aren’t visible. You hide them most days.

Remind those loved ones who care, that you need them.

It’s okay, be careful.

Let her be

This plant, I’d almost given up for dead, when in reality her new life was yet to be. I’m glad I waited and I’m still waiting to see the beauty she will bring forth. It’s taking it’s sweet damn time though!

It will be worth the wait, to see the colorful blooms in all their snobbish beauty. They will be the highlight and center of my attention, for a while. Even for a good while. Until, with life’s daily troubles, I will become distracted or neglectful of it’s beauty. Not necessarily on purpose, but by sheer humanness.

That is when I need to say, “Hey, look, take care, water, pay attention…snap-out-of-it!”

For this plant though, I’m glad I waited on her. I’m glad I kept watering her and giving her attention. And, as before, I know she will unveil her beauty in her sweet time. Give her time.