My Girl

I sit looking out the sliding glass doors from our living room to the deck and the woods beyond. The rising sun is streaming through the tops of the trees and it is so peaceful. I can almost imagine that everything is just the way it is supposed to be.

It is not.

A part of me is missing.

And try as I might…I cannot get past it.

I pray daily, often repeatedly throughout the day, for the peace that passes all understanding. It does not come.

Maybe it is not supposed to come. Maybe I am not supposed to feel peaceful about missing her. Maybe then I would become complacent.

Oh, I know that she belongs to Him. I know that He not only has a plan…His plan is happening as I type this.

I cannot help the “what ifs?” “What if we had done this instead of that?” “What if we totally shut her down and then she does this?”

“What if we lose her for good?”

Our Pastor has “lost” his daughter. She has shut them out of her life for over three years now. No contact. No calls. Just silence.

I do not know how he and his wife bear it.

I miss My Girl. Every minute of every day.

I am thankful, please do not get me wrong, that she is still on this Earth and that because of that there is Hope. We have friends who have lost their children through illness, suicide, accidents.

Some days, though, it is just hard to keep going. Hard pretending that all is right in our world. Impossible to stop the ache in my chest and the tears that flow unchecked. Unstoppable.

I think I will be spending some extra time in my grandmother’s chair this morning, by the doors leading to the deck. Pretending that everything is as it should be.


Wow. It’s been forever since I blogged.

Strap yourselves in. This is going to get bumpy.

While on vacation last week, God and I had quite the “come to Jesus moment.”

Several of them actually.

In all honesty, He is really quite done with my whole little tantrum-throwing-it’s-never-about-me junk.

I run with God.

I am a wife.

I am a mom.

I serve in our church for my paying job.

It IS never about me.

For the past 40 yearsI have been trying to make it about me. Now that I am on the down slope towards 45 50, enough is enough.

I have always fought who I really am.

Who He created me to be.

I sat down at the baby grand piano in our sanctuary today to play and stumbled and bumbled through what was just recently a familiar and very playable piece for me.

I approached an art project without a clue as to how to begin.

I have framed art stacked up against my fireplace because I just cannot put together in my mind where/how I want each piece to go.

He created me with an incredible ear and talent for all things music.
I have always been too afraid to pursue it to the level I know He had called me to take it. Too fearful of messing up. Too aware of what other people might say. 

He created me with an ability to draw and paint.
I look at the art I created as a teen and am floored. I cannot draw or paint like that anymore.

He created me with a love for reading, writing and all things words.
I shut that part of myself down long, long ago.

He created me with the gift of discernment. A strong “spidey-sense” as my bff’s call it.
I keep my mouth shut when it kicks in because I fear my thoughts and ideas being rejected and scoffed at.

I am totally and utterly not bragging on myself.
I am totally and completely bragging on Him.

I cannot tell you the number of times over the last few months He has pushed people and situations into my path where I should be utilizing one or more of these gifts He blessed me with.

It is a sin for me not to not allow Him to use me and these gifts.

I have come to terms with that. Begged for forgiveness. Now I wait and see what happens next.

I cannot lie…I am scared.