His eye is on the sparrow, Hallelujah

Lately I have made an honest attempt to read more. I know, shocking isn't it. I've found that when I read, my mind wanders. I will read a whole page before I realize that I have not not absorbed a single sentence, even a single word.
Last week I was finishing the last in the Harry Potter series in the quiet hours of the morning, sitting in the chair I had sat in a year or so before while my Dad sat on the couch next to me in the late, quiet hours of another night, when into my mind came a picture. I was looking into my old church. The Episcopal cathedral that I attended with my Dad when I was young. The same place that we held my Grandmothers memorial service. I remember as a little girl sitting in the pews and just looking around in wonder at the stained glass windows, the thick smell of incense in the air. I saw the room and saw the pews with the kneelers, I looked around first from the main aisle and then from the pulpit, or maybe it is only called the pulpit in the Baptist church, I'm not sure. It's the same place I sat on an April Fool's day many years ago and, while a prayer began and I should have had my eyes closed, I instead turned and whispered for him to look at a bird that had flown into the rafters. He believed me, of course and began looking and then, snickering, I said full of pride that the trick had worked, "April fools". It's a story we retell each other often. That day he turned with absolutely no expression and replied,"You are in so much trouble when we get home." I was horrified at what I had done, and just sure that this punishment would be quite severe as I couldn't ever remember having been in "so much trouble" with him before. I hadn't received a spanking that I could remember in all my years of being his daughter and so I began to cry. His face softened and he whispered into my ear,"April Fools". We laugh about it all now because I was just sure that I had finally pushed him to the place where I would be in trouble for making a joke, which never had, nor has since happened. But this time I was standing in the aisle of an empty Cathedral and I could hear Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" playing. This is significant because back on the night that I sat in the same chair where I now found myself, we were watching "Feast of Love", a movie that I had needed to see from the first time I saw the trailer and then once seen had to own and share. As we began to watch I became embarrassed, as the first time I watched alone, and couldn't be embarrassed about the amount of nudity. I had forgotten it because it is a beautiful story about relationships and love and tragedy and well, the nudity was not absorbed as much as the lesson of never being afraid to love deeply. As we watched the music began and I remember saying how much the music spoke to me and Dad sighed and said that song was one of the songs he wanted played at his funeral. And so I sat in the wee hours of the morning thinking about Dad and his funeral and the Cathedral and the odor of wafting incense. As morning began and the littles woke and began their morning routines I couldn't lose the song. Later while folding laundry I began to hum a tune, which usually happens for some reason when I fold laundry. I think because I am alone and can sing without fear of being heard. As I hummed I began to sing,

"I sing because I'm happy,

I sing because I'm free,

for his eye is on the sparrow

and he watches over me. "

The lyrics are really,"And I know He watches me", but for some reason, "He watches over me", is what I know, and what I sing when I'm all alone in the laundry room.
Later that afternoon my Brother called, which is rare, but not unexpected as he will be here this weekend. He had called to tell me that my Dad had been in a accident. My heart sank and the first thing that came out of my mouth was that I had known it all day long. My brother knowing me well said that he knew when he called that that is what I would say.
I don't think I'm psychic, not at all, but so many times I have picked up the phone to call my Mom and it was busy because she was calling me. Even once when I had a land line I picked up to call and she was already on the line, she had heard the ring on her end but I had not yet on mine. There are times when my Dad has called when I needed him to without plan or consciousness on either of our parts. I think this is God's way of connecting us one to another. His way of tapping us on the shoulder. And I don't think that me in the church with a song in my mind that will be played at my Father's funeral is a premonition of his death either. I think it is my way of shoring up. Just as the same morning that I had sung "His eye is on the sparrow" standing in the laundry room of my own home, my Mom had been singing it to herself in her home, not telling each other or sharing, it was placed in both of our minds so that when my Brother called her on his way home from visiting Dad in the E.R. she would remind him of the same thing that I had been singing throughout the day.
Yesterday and the evening before I read Joan Dideon's the Year of Magical Thinking, a book I have wanted to read for the longest time, but never made it to the library to get, until a few days ago, in which she mentions her way of shoring up for disaster. She writes how she was prepared with emergency candles and numbers and papers, and that it was her way of shoring up for disaster. I have my important papers and my flashlights, but in a true emergency I doubt that I will think to grab the papers or have working batteries in the flashlights, as I usually find them strewn about the house burned out. I don't feel the need for paper work, I instead feel the need to shore up my own heart, not to block out love, but so that I am prepared emotionally when there is a loss of someone I love, not that there is any real way to do that.
Yesterday with littlest at the grandparents the biggers and I decided to take a hike on some local trails. I packed a lunch and grabbed the bug spray and as I did I kept thinking of other things to pack. We had food already, so I grabbed matches, and a box cutter and a clean towel and the Benadryl and anything else, oh yes, band aids, I could think of that we might need if we became lost or were attacked by a bear or if one of the kids cut themselves or had a reaction. For a three hour walk through the woods on well marked trails, I needed all of this. I guess in some ways I do shore up for disaster, but none came and we had a wonderful time and had a picnic on a rock by the stream. On the way I had said a quick prayer, "Lord please don't take Dad, I'm just not ready." Rather than praying as I should have and allowing God to do what He does in His time and in His way, but as a little girl asking to not have to leave the park yet, because she isn't done playing.
When we lost my Step Dad in January we were all crushed. I know that even as an adult, I am still my parents child and childlike with them in many ways. When I have a really bad day or am sad about whatever it is I am sad about, I need my husband and my children, but I need my parents as well. I need their advice and their laughter and the way they make me smile and feel safe just as they did when I was really a child. I need my husband who thinks it's silly to pack a box cutter in case some escaped convict jumps out from behind a tree and the parents who think that while I may not have to use them, I am somewhat protected by the things that I have packed, because they themselves cannot be there to protect me. And so when Jimmy died we were extremely sad, but he was ready and had been for while a while. It was justifiable. His mind had gone, and it would confuse him to have visitors, anything away from his normal routine would confuse him and while in selfishness we wanted him to stay we were comforted by the knowledge that he was Home. I joked at the time that he was on the back nine of the most beautiful golf course he had ever seen and was able to stand without help and swing the club harder than he had in years. He was no longer sick, or confused and was Home, where he belonged and well deserved to be.
I remember back years ago when my Grandfather (my Step-Mothers father) passed away and then not long after my Grandmother (my Dad's mom) followed. I remember walking with my Dad to see her and say goodbye and as I began to cry I mumbled "I hate this". Not understanding what I meant my Dad reassured that we didn't have to see her. "Not this", I cried making circles with my hands trying to represent the current moment, and then held my hands out in front of me, again making circles,"This". The whole thing, death. Losing two people who I loved in a matter of months, it was just too hard. Losing two people years apart is too hard, losing someone you love is just too hard. They were in a better place, out of pain and at peace, but it was too hard for me. God's timing is hard and it doesn't make sense to our mortal hearts. The loss of grandparents is normal, the loss of parents to an adult child is normal, the loss of children is not normal in any way, shape or form, but no matter the relation, I believe that God has His reason and his timing that we may never fully understand but we must trust, until we do. Age justifies death, just as illness. No one wants to say goodbye to a loved one just as no one wants to see that loved one hurting or in pain or confusion from which they will not return. I'm not ready for my Grandmothers to go although they have both told me that they are ready. And I get it. They have had long happy lives, they are strong beautiful women who raised their own children and saw the generation after that grow and raise the one after that which continues to grow. They were wives to the men they loved and they miss them and I have no doubt that even as we cry when they are called Home, they will be welcomed into the arms of their soul mates who went before them.
I don't dwell on future death of loved ones, but I do sometimes find myself imagining the aisles of the Churches and what will be said and whether I will be able to speak or to even form words. I wonder how long I will be able to pick up the phone and call my parents, or how many more times our calls will pass on those lines. It isn't for me to know, of which I am glad, and it isn't for me to ask for in my own time, because that would never come. And so I pray and I try to shore my own self up, so that when the call does come I will be prepared even though I know that it doesn't work that way. Just as we are still sad and heartbroken and grieving while holding the knowledge that they were ready. But I do know this and it is in disagreement with the last line from Ms. Dideon's book, His eye is most definitely on the sparrow, on the smallest of beings and on the largest, the strongest and most frail and He does absolutely watch over me, and you, and I'm sure that tune will mix with others in future years as I stand and say goodbye to loved ones. And I'm sure that no matter what lyrics are sung I will drift off and remember the graham cracker marshmallow treats and the candy dishes that define my Grandmother's for me, and I will remember the songs that my Mom sang to me at bedtime and the April fools joke and inappropriate laughter and movie watching with Dad, the strength and tuna casserole that are my Step-Mom and the vows I made to my husband. And through the tears I will most likely chuckle just a bit a funny memory, not out of disrespect but out of love for someone who once made me laugh. Because even if they aren't here to embrace, or answer the questions that I need to ask, or chuckle at the silly things I do, I have shored up their memory and I will carry those things, the most precious of all gifts with me and then one day they will be waiting for me, with open arms in a blinding brightness. And I will say...

I did my best,it wasn't much

I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch

I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you

And even though It all went wrong

I'll stand before the Lord of Song

With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah,Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah,Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah,Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah,Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah

(Leonard Cohen)

Glorious Perspective

Good days and bad days. You know how it goes. I have days where the fear creeps up and smacks me even before I heard it creeping. Most days I'm fine, and able to appreciate all of the wonder that comes with the simple life we live. Watching the Littles grow up in this calm little cove, spending time with my neighbor/adoptive family member/garden buddy/mentor on all things, seeing my husband appear through the door after work and watching the kiddos run and announce that "DADDY'S HOME". Life is good all the time, and yet those creeping fears still seem to surface. The fact that my husband's job may just be teetering on the edge as so many are these days, and the fact that might mean that I will be adding server to my profile once again. I sometimes need to stop and remind myself that we will have food and a home, and that most importantly, no matter how bad things get we will still have those same friends and family there to love us no matter what. I see my worries and they are quickly put into perspective when I talk with that same buddy and he tells me that his wife of over 50 years is not feeling well and there will be tests and possibly surgery. I see the creeping fear in his eyes when he lets himself go to that place where his beloved is gone and he is still here. Most fear full moments
pass quickly and most times I find it quite easy to put things back into perspective. I can just open my eyes and look around, and see the situations that others are facing and realize that we have it so good. And so,the other morning while taking some pictures of my newly flourishing
garden, I thought it was time for a little inspiration. I pulled out my Bible and a stack of quote books and searched for anything to pass something on. Of course I didn't have to look for long before I found enough for 15 posts. The funny thing is that before I could get this post written, something happened that put everything just a little further into focus. As Lady little and I ran out for treats last night to celebrate the last day of school, the hubs called to let me know that the power had gone out. As we arrived back in the cove we passed all of the dark houses with doors open. Complete silence. This time rather than the power being restored within a short time it was out all evening and well into the night. I sat with my babes all huddled on the couch talking and telling stories. We watched as the first lightening bugs of the summer appeared all over the front yard, and just sat in silence as they flickered magically as far as we could see. We watched as our neighbors came by to check on a homebound family member. We watched and listened for the trucks from the power company, an then watched again as their mighty spotlights danced around looking for the problem. We talked about how things used to be, not so long ago, right in this very spot. How they used to wash their clothes in the same creek that they bathed in. The simpler times with much harder work days. Ahh how wonderful it is to gain glorious perspective. Times when you did what you did to survive and then went to sleep at night being thankful for the wonderful abundance that you were given so graciously.




Rejoice in the Lord always, I will say it again:Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to tall. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything but in everything by prayer and petition, with Thanksgiving, present your request to God. And the peace of God which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:4




Not what we have, but what we enjoy constitutes our abundance.
John Petit- Senn





Joy is what happens to us when we allow ourselves to recognize how good things really are.
Marianne Williamson




Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and yo will find rest for your souls."
Matthew 11: 28,29





This is the gift- to have the wonderful capacity to appreciate again and again, freshly, and naively, the basic goods of life with awe, pleasure, wonder and even ecstasy.
Abraham Maslow





All the really great things in life are expressed in the simplest words;
friends and family; purpose and meaning; love and work; caring and community; appreciation and gratitude.
Dan Zadra



Abundance is not something we acquire. It is something we tune into.
Wayne Dyer





We are most alive in those moments when our heart are conscious of our treasures.
Thornton Wilder






Therefore, since we have been justified though faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained
access by faith into this grace, in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings,because we know that suffering produces perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom He has given us.
Romans 5: 1-5





The world is grand, awfully big and astonishingly beautiful, frequently thrilling.
Dorothy Kilgallen







What we need is to love without getting tired. How does a lamp burn? Through the continuous input of small drops of oil. What are these drops of oil in our lamps? They are the small things of daily life: faithfulness, small words of kindness, a thought for others, our way of being silent, of looking speaking and of acting. Do not look for Jesus away from yourselves. He is not out there; He is in you. Keep your lamp burning and you will recognize Him.
Mother Teresa




The Lord is my shepherd;I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul; he leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for you are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You anoint my head with oil; my cup runs over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
Psalm 23

I thought I loved him then

When I was a girl, I would develop a crush on a boy and inevitably that boy would get a crush on one of my friends. It's just the way it was, and it was fine. I would give up on him and move on to another. I grew used to it. But then this happened and changed my life.


I saw him the first time 11 years ago this past February.


I can't tell you the first time he saw me.


I fell head over heals the very instant I saw him. The bells rang and the angels sang and God tapped me on the shoulder and whispered in my ear,"Not yet sweetie, but one day."


I don't really know even now what he heard or saw, or if God tapped him on the shoulder.
He was strong and rugged and would say whatever came to mind no matter what the recipient might think of it. He was stubborn and driven and was not about to let anyone tell him what to do or how to do it. He wasn't what I was used to. He wasn't what I knew. He was different. At first glance, he wasn't the guy that you would take home to Mom and Dad. Some of my friends thought I was crazy. I knew that there was more to this man than they were able to see. I saw it when I looked into his eyes. There was something there. There was so much more to be uncovered. Under the tough exterior of the cook, the NASCAR fan, the loud music. He would tell me that he was no good for me and I would usually reply that I knew better. No matter how hard he tried to hide the fact that he had any heart at all, I knew that his heart was good and loving and meant to beat next to mine.
It hasn't always been easy. In fact there have been times when we were both ready to pack up and walk out the door, but we didn't. By the grace of God we didn't.
All of the sides of him that I saw but didn't understand are more clear.
The stubbornness which can come across as harsh is now clearly what he uses to carry him through the days of hard work. And he works. He goes to work and comes home and works some more, not because he is a workaholic, but because he is a provider. Because he loves the fact that I love being home to see our littlest grow up. Because I love meeting the school bus, and I want to be here when my babies need me. Partly, even, because I really think he likes being around me, which at times I find amazing. The stubbornness comes through often and when three men in a grocery store parking lot "offer to take" his money, it turns to bravery, allowing his response to be that they can surely try but at least one of them is going down with him because he's going to get home to his family at the end of this day.
Somewhere deep inside was a love that is stronger than any I have ever known. The kind of love the bears a sign that reads something like this:
"These are the people that I love, and if you want to mess with them you will have to go through me first. "
The love that brings tears when he sees our daughter dressed for her first formal dance and strikes fear when she wants to ride in the car with a boy. The kind of love that gives him the strength to nearly kick down a maternity ward door to get to his wife and soon to be born son. The love that makes him love to wake up in the wee hours of his morning off to take his little boy fishing, because that's what he used to do with his father, grandfather and great-grandfather, and he wants to share the same gift of time with his own son. The love that he tried so hard to hide is stronger than I ever suspected.
You may ask if I have a sort of hero worship over romanticizing thing going on with him. Maybe so. I can admit that he isn't perfect. He has his bad days. There are times when his stubbornness can take me to my breaking point, usually when I see it in our youngest. But honestly he is perfect for me. I know without a doubt that he is the one I was meant to be with and the one I want to grow old with. Because he loves me whether I am at my worst or my best. He laughs with me when I'm at my silliest and he holds me when I cry. He tells me I am beautiful whether I am dressed up to go out or I'm in my old flannel pajamas. He loves me, not what my moods tell him or what I look like at a particular point in the day. No matter my mistakes or my successes. He loves me for me, and that truly is one of the greatest gifts he could give me.
The things I saw in him, in the first moments of the first glance were not a figment of my imagination. Maybe it was that I saw what our life could be if we just let go and let it happen. Like the song says, I thought I loved him then, and at the time I thought it was as strong as it could ever possibly be, but it wasn't. It has grown and it has gotten better, and the love has gotten stronger and grown deeper. It seems the only things that haven't changed are these few..
I still have a huge crush on him and my heart still skips a beat when I see that it's him on the other end of the phone line.
He is still the one that I want to share my days with and crawl into bed with at night, even if there is a three year old in between us.
His singing still makes me giggle, and his wink makes me melt.
The box of cookies he brings me at the end of the day, just because he knows I like them, is much sweeter than any diamond he could ever find.
When I laugh I want him there and when I'm sad it is him that I want to comfort me. I want him there to share the joys and triumphs, the disappointments and pain.
I want his hand around mine and I want my head to find that perfect spot on his shoulder.
The best part is that he is still, after all of this time, and to be completely honest even more now, my best friend that I was lucky enough to fall in love with.


Even better than that is the fact that rather than look at my crush for him and turn to my friend instead, he turned to me and said "I do."



Happy Birthday baby. I don't really know why you love me, but I'm sure glad you do. I love you more!