Friday, September 19, 2014

these hands that hold this wide world over...#fmfparty

FMF - Hold 
It’s calloused and rough, this hand.
I am a little girl and I hold the swollen of this farmer.
We walk the green grass and mud and manure
As he yells ‘C’on, C’on, Let’s Go!’
Callng the cows in for the milking.

I hold this hand too in that old canvas recliner
As we spend a late night in the language of our hearts.
We pray to God for His love & Gospel to go into
The world and the broken of these years somehow,
Somewhere heals.

I see these hands clasped in prayer. Rivers of grief
Inside just days after mom’s passing.
The callouses are heart deep but the softening
Yet deeper. The hands you hold out to
The God who is like the summer sun and the spring rain
That make the crops grow in season.

On Sundays now I imagine our hands held together
Familiar and heady, I feel the rough plains that the farming
Has formed on your weathered exterior in the
Steady way of faith that finds its rutted roads on this
Wide world all the way Home.

Joining all the brave of the #FMFParty on a sunny, warm midday in Budapest


Friday, September 12, 2014

Ready to see... #fmfparty #giveaway

Go ::

I am pregnant with this life.
It's not a baby, just in case you wonder.

It's something more and something less.
I am ready to slip into this skin of 
Woman that's been forming these 40 years.

Ready to live like it is all real.
To pray like never before 
And live with confident
Anticipation of those prayers.

To see the world through little eyes and big souls
Of wonder. To miss the innuendo
Of the cynical and believe.

I stand on the edge of a world that I can see.
It's been the stuff of dreams...all converging
In this one stilled season after that
Last wilderness trek thirsty and hungry in dry land.
It's here today because the years in far country
And the moments that span so much of 
A grieving daughter whose lost to the way Home
Have made my eyes to see.

 Just Write

Hey you #fmfparty peeps! Check my last post and enter the #giveaway of Lisa-Jo's
Surprised by Motherhood.


Monday, September 8, 2014

My Story :: Mama's Ever-Widening Wings & Giveaway #SuprisedbyMotherhood

I wrote this post as a part of the on-going sharing of my story. Especially, today, I share about the way my mama speaks to me from Heaven as I mother. In the memories, as I am present with them, I see them in a whole new way this side of motherhood.

Today I wrote with a special heart towards Lisa-Jo and her book which also includes her journey through her mother's life as she continues to grieve her loss and find her way. I can relate to her in many ways. Not the least of which is mothering without a mom while also living far from your own home. I am holding a giveaway of her book, Surprised by Motherhood. There is a book club that Lisa-Jo is hosting that starts today. I will run the giveaway through Friday, so come! join in! Whether you are a mother or not, you will love Lisa-Jo's relational style and beautiful writing...
It's a regular afternoon on the farm. Whatever that means. Today finds me inside. I am surrounded by the mustard yellow 70s wallpaper with its matching linoleum counters and floors, My twin and I mirror our mother.

She is with a mom who is new to our church, Donna, as she brings her under her ever-widening wing. So my twin and I do the same thing with her girls. Mom shares recipes and her no-nonsense grit in love, life and mothering amidst the whipping up of dinner. We paint fingernails and toenails and cook up meals with our yellow metal play kitchen.

Donna and her family have moved to Pennsylvania from the Midwest and my mom is doing what she does best. With a heart for the outsider and a soul-deep understanding of the struggle to belong, she reaches out with arms wide, warm and full of come-as-you-are welcome.

Mama holds no title at our church. She has negative time with five kids, their schooling sports, music, etc. duties as chief farm hand and there is always, always the laundry.

Yet she finds time for Donna. Not to check off a box or climb the ladder of self-importance, but because she wants her to know she is loved and seen. 

She pours out the salt that is quintessentially her. No doubt making sure Donna knows she is stronger than she could ever know and 'don't you dare let those kids or your husband push you around!' She has a calling to light the fire in any woman who is in mortal danger of forgetting who she is and what her God has brought her through her whole life through.

I have no idea how rare this is as with little girl eyes I take in the scene.

But I have come to know in places as raw and tender as the child I was then. 

I have born children in three places thousands of miles apart as a strong wind tosses me about this big wide world. 

And in each home, seven in as many years, (though some for mere weeks or months) I have wandered this mommy wilderness. New to places full of moms with kids loaded in and out of mini-vans and the frantic race to do it all. Looking around for someone who will slow long enough to come alongside this mama the distance from earth to heaven from her own.

Where is the Sue to my Donna who will mount up on eagles' wings with her negative time and invite me into the mess and the beauty?

It's a tragedy that compounds my grief at her loss. And its a gift...for the searing has taught me to bleed rather than harden. 

Yet, what I wouldn't give for that pouring forth of gold. To know all that mama said to Donna on that day and many others

As the mystery of the veil would have it, Donna is with mama in Heaven. Now seven daughters roam the earth reaching across thousands of miles and chock-full lives to re-capture what cannot be. To remind one another of the mothers who met in sacred space and forged the way to make it through and a bit stronger each day.

And this daughter is learning that the salty river of her aching memory can preserve the real in a world that has forgotten. Where negative time can be changed into things unseen...things eternal.

 sharing with Jen, Laura, Kelli and Jennifer

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