So Different, So Alike

Why do we do the things we do? How do our idiosyncrasies make us each different, unique in the way we think and reason?

Some things must be learned behaviors from watching parents or other adults as we grow. But how do we explain twins, separated at birth, who grow up miles, even countries, apart and yet have the same behavior patterns and mannerisms? How much is actually from our DNA?

The diversity of humans amazes met. Yet, how much we are the same.

I see, as many women do as we mature, so very much of my mother in me. My sister-in-law reminds me of my mother-in-law who in turn is similar to her mother. What makes this so? Even our best efforts fail to overcome those habits we see in ourselves that remind us of our parents. Mannerisms: the turn of a head or a gesture, so like a parent even as we strive to be different.

Sons like fathers, daughters like mothers. So different, so alike. The very things about our parents that drive us crazy, even infuriate us, and push us out of the nest to be on our own, we begin to see in ourselves more and more.

As young parents, we look at our babies searching for us in them. Why? When we don't want to be like our parents, why do we expect our children to be like us?

To God and Father as Elohim

You are wonderful, Father.
Your power and might brought the universe into existence.
You created the huge vastness of space.
You caused the microscopic molecules of the air.
You made man, male & female, in your image.
You love diversity -- in the world, in nature, in people & personalities.
You love your creation.
You, oh God, my Elohim, planned each detail of the world before you placed Adam in the garden.
You provide all we need to be born and to live on this earth.

You knew me before I was born.
You thought about who would be the right parents for me.
You, only you, gave me life.
You planted me in my mother's womb.
You nutured me as I grew into a woman.
You alone caused me to look as I do, think as I do, feel as I do.
You had a plan and a purpose for me before you made the world.
You made me to be your child.

You gave your Son for me before I lived.
You called me to new life in you.
You gifted me with your Holy Spirit.
You grew my faith.
You alone are worthy of my praise.
You alone receive my honor.
You alone deserve my devotion

Continue, day by day, moment by moment, to breathy your Spirit on me that I may worship & adore you, praise & honor you, obey & serve you, love you.

Changing Seasons

Cooler days -- almost cold nights

Cloudless sky

Soft breezes -- leaves flutter

Comfy grass carpet

Water trickles down the rocks

Hawks scream over head

God's glory revealed.

Soon, leaves will color then fade

Float and dance on the wind

Frost, snow and icy wind whistling down the hill

Changing seasons explode with God's greatness

Can't wait for Spring

Flowers bloom -- trees leaf out

Rain

Signs of the season

Days heating up

Longer days, fresh cut hay

More sun -- less rain

No school -- lazy times

Laughter, swimming, baseball

The best time of the year

God's goodness shines with the sun

Metamorphosis

Like a butterfly, she magically floated away as she opened the pages of the travel magazine. She imagined herself among the exotic peoples and places. She pictured her life drifting from place to place as she explored the wonders of God's creation.

Free to imagine, free to dream, free to live her own life with no one to answer to but God; His constant presence real and meaningful. She felt held close by His love.

Freedom. Isn't that something we all crave? Freedom from war, poverty and desolation. Freedom from fear of ridicule and embarrassment as well as freedom from physical pain and degradation. Freedom to love and worship God. Freedom to follow His leading and direction. Freedom to say or do whatever is within His will.

Reading her magazine, she transformed into a courageous adventurer. She climbed mountains and crossed oceans. She became whatever she read.

She closed the book at the end of the last page and slowly, cautiously re-entered her self imposed prison in the real world. She rose from her chair and walked into the kitchen to start dinner for the family she loved.

On Loneliness

Loneliness is separation. Separate by background or activity or history. Separate from ones you love. Separate even in a crowd of family and friends.

Loneliness engulfs you, crushes your spirit, binds you to the earth. Loneliness kills. Kills thought and feeling -- except for the longing to be with someone who knows and understands you.

Loneliness needles at you, makes you retreat in defeat. Or, it forces you out into the world to find that someone who completes you, to find some thing to fill the void.

Loneliness can reveal God: His great comfort and solace, His nearness, His plan for you -- big or small -- His purpose for your life. So, good can come from loneliness if you can be strong enough and courageous enough to step out.

Step outside yourself and see who else is there. Overcome the self pity of being alone. Embrace the aloneness as a time of discovery. Discover who God is and what He's calling you to be. It maybe a time of New Beginning.

Week in Review

An attitude of worship.
A week of purpose spent in companionable silences and family enjoyment.
Times of contemplation and planning.
Feelings of dread (chores undone) and accomplishment.

Cemetery Thoughts

Not too long ago I went to the cemetery where my mother and grandparents are buried.

It's been a long time since I came here. There's a new grave, but I don't know who it is. I haven't been to Mama's yet. Flowers adorn a few sites, bright color in the faded green.

Gray, overcast skies fit my mood. I don't know why I came. She's not here; no one is. I always thought people odd who returned often to cemeteries or decorated graves. Is it a cry for comfort, a denial of loss, a show of grief for the world? Comfort of a kind comes, and a feigning of closeness. It seems easier to talk to her here. I tell her of the important events of my life, share my secrets and dreams; the things I never tell any one. I almost hear her speak, laugh or cry with me. Nowhere else can I feel her. I can cry here and no one believes I'm crazy. I cry for my loss and emptiness, the missed togetherness, the loneliness of her passing. It's been 10 years since she left. Ten years of challenges i met or failed. Ten years of opportunities I took or ignored.

I see her in me more and more. Gestures, speech patterns, the shape of my hands -- all remind me of the woman she was. Am I keeping her good traits? Am I harboring her sense of humor, hospitality and generosity in my heart? Have I met adversity with her strength and fortitude? Do I let my disappointments overwhelm me and drag me into the pit of despair? (i know the answers to these questions.) How can I mirror her greater qualities to my family and foster that giving, loving, caring heart in myself? How can I remember her everyday like I do when I'm here?

I thank God for the mother I had. She loved me greatly and did the best she knew to raise me. It seems she was taken too soon, but God doesn't make mistakes. Even in missing her and the sadness of her absence is the joy of knowing I'll see her again. This I know: she's in a better place and soon I'll join her there. Then we can laugh and talk and praise our God together for eternity.

Although not a perfect person, she was the perfect mother for me.