Sunday Best - Autumn Leaves

(Today I have chosen to dedicate my Sunday Best to the three people in my life who have shown me who I can be and what I want to reflect as an adult, as a mother and as a friend.)

This is written in memory of my Mother

Autumn doesn't come without reflections of your beauty.

One leaf doesn't fall from a tree without grieving your loss.

You were the one who welcomed the slowly turning colors of Autumn.

You welcomed each leaf from the tree tops to the soft landing below.

You skipped through the pile like a little girl.

You scooped them up, like an angel, holding them to your nose to inhale the scent of the season.

Today I noticed most leaves have fallen.

Our trees are empty and so is my heart.

Fall brings so many wonderful memories of you.

So many drives down winding roads and you beckoned us to stop

just to take in the beauty of each tree.

So often you'd sit there, close your eyes and inhale

It was like you were taking a mental picture of each one

Saving it for the day you could recall. . . . like today when there were no more leaves

I miss you most, Mom, when Autumn Leaves start to fall.

This picture captures a moment of pure joy as we drove along, laughing, talking and inhaling the scenary.  Mom never missed a moment to love. . . . EVERYTHING!

Anymore, I can't think of my Mother without being reminded of my "nother Mothers."

Above is the lady who knew me prior to my mother's illness.  She taught me to face the truth in my own heart.  She knew it would allow all those seeds Mom had planted to bloom and grow.

She helped me create safe places where I could find my way out of the dark, when Mom began to fade away.  She taught me it was normal to have that "inner" child that needs your Mom no matter how old you are.  She has loved me as her own.  She never gave up on me during the tough growing experiences.  And she always shared her lap when I missed my Mom's lap.  She is such a dear friend to me.  God knew I needed everything she taught me and the friendship she has given me, to get through the junk.

Along came another "nother" Mother about three years into my mother's illness.  This one showed up in a different way.  She showed up at work.  I was getting distracted with life because as Mom was slipping away, I couldn't remember how her voice used to sound when she would push me to reach for my dreams.

Mom had a way of holding me accountable, making me see truth for what it was and working it out.  Mom had a way of reminding my of my self-worth and that I could reach all the stars and rope the moon.  As I began to forget those things, and Mom began to forget how to remind me, This nother mother stepped into my life at work and saw my potential to become something.  Over the past "almost" 9 years, we have become very dear friends.  She has been there during some times when my halo was more tarnished and even fell off.  She has been there and cheered me on when I rose to the occasion to make something of myself.

These three wonderful women helped me shape my life into something worth while.  I really REALLY missed my Mother today.  I know she is around me and in my heart.  I just missed her with skin on.  I so much just wanted to hug her, hold her close, remember her perfume, take her for a drive to see the leaves.

I am very thankful to my "Nother Mothers" who are kind enough to share a cup of tea or a glass of Cranberry/Lime Splash while I am working through my "MOM" moments.  I am very honored they have accepted me as an additional "daughter".  And I am very thankful to God for honoring me with all three living, breathing examples of who I aspire to become.

Below, I have dedicated "Autumn Leaves" sung by Eva Cassidy. 

This song may have been written for someone who lossed a lover or a friend.

However, when I hear it, I am reminded of my beautiful, wonderful Mother.

The love she gave to me and my siblings was the purest form of love I have ever experienced.

Mahogany MOJO

When my son was barely 16 years old, with long blonde hair, he thought he was pretty hot with all the girls.  Truth is, they thought so too.  I begin to quit memorizing names of the girls he talked about or introduced me to, because I was calling Brandy - Brittany, Caitlen - Cally, you get the drift.

Anywho, this pretty blonde headed boy who still is the center of my heart and life was never and I mean NEVER afraid to try anything on his head!  NO hairstyle was too bizarre for him!  He always said, "It's just hair!  I can shave it and start over!  If it's a bad hair cut, wait two weeks and it will be okay. 

God bless his sweet lil blonde headed heart!  He didn't realize his next experiment was about to cost him almost 3 months of a complete identity change!  IT WAS TOTALLY HILARIOUS!

Jody, my son, was the kid in school who made friends from every group.  He didn't belong to certain "clicks" or clubs or "hoods", etc.  Jody was loved by all and loved everyone who wanted to be included.  Every party we threw for him, (at least 2 per year) would fill our home with football players, cheerleaders, bandcamp kids, skaters, hoodies, jocks, nerds, etc. . . you name or label them. . . . they were there.

One of his favorite things to do, besides dating and play soccer was to skateboard.  He had skill.  He was agile.  He could do the latest tricks, skin his shins, get road burns, you know how it is!  (too bad he and 20 other boys in his class, barely 21 all think they already need knee replacements).  Anywho, I digress.

One evening, the boys (who were very willing to live on the edge as long as it was legal) decided it was time to take the boards to the big parks.  They went to a warehouse building and decided it was time to learn to jump four-foot ledges, flip the boards down flights of stairs, skim across hand rails and anything else that I NEVER wanted to know about!

While venturing toward a dumpster, where one of the boy's Mom's had dumped an entire case of hair color.  She was a hair stylist and decided she had ordered the wrong color.  Since she shared the dumpster from her shop close by, she dropped the color there.

The boys were very excited to find a great big box labeled "MAXIM".  Now if you consider yourself to be a conservative christian AND. . . AND do not have teenage boys (or if you do and they get out of your sight and your head is stuck in the sand) you won't have a clue about Maxim.  However, it is a racey magazine with provocative pictures of sexy girls. . . .almost playboy not quite kind of stuff. 

Well, those boys got so excited when they ripped into that MAXIM case and found hair color.  The name of the hair color:  MAHOGANY MOJO!  So, as they often did, one stepped up and dared the others to all take a bottle and each color his hair. 

So, taking the pledge of honorable young men, not wanting to be labeled a "chicken" all the boys took a bottle.  This is where I need to tell you that every single boy there, except Jody had either dark brown or black hair.  Jody's well, you see in the picture. . . and even to this day. . . it is truly blonde.

When they came home to crash at our house for the night, I never noticed a difference in a single head until Jody waltzed through the door. . . .strutting like a "Stud-muffin".  I don't even have to explain the rest.  Look at the pictures!

He kept that color for the entire summer and the first month of school.  We called him "That 70's Boy" and  he loved it because, with his Aviator Sunglasses, he looked like he belonged on "That 70's Show". 

He didn't care!  He had fun with it!  He took the ribbings he got from the other guys and had fun all summer long. 

THAT 70'S BOY!

Jody's motto continues to be:  I hope you like me.  But if you don't, I can't help it.  You've missed out on a good friend and great times.  I'm not going to lose sleep over it.  However, if you need a friend, I'm here.

I Couldn't Have Made This Up!!!!

So, it all started Monday morning. . . bright and early. . . 'bout 6:45am.  My son needed a ride to the car pool lot down the road.  I climbed outta bed, put a sweat suit on, with thick fuzzy socks, pulled my hair back in a pony tail and headed out the door.  I dropped my son off and returned home.

Upon returning home, I opened my garage door and started to pull my SUV inside right?  WRONG!!!  I didn't realize the door had slipped just enough to catch on the rack on top of my ride. . . . SO. . . like any smart blonde, I kept going forward!  Idiot!

BIG MISTAKE!

All of a sudden there came a sound from heaven a loud crashing noise!  I looked up and there was my roof.  All was well!  Right?  WRONG!!

I got out of the truck to realize the garage door was crooked. . . you know one side up more than the other. . . looked like I tried to take out the door or something!  No I wasn't drinking people!  It was 6:45am!  So, I went to try and push the door back up.  That was when I realized it was off track. 

Now listen, I'm a handyman girl.  I have changed out the pipes and replaced faucets, hung a screen door, built a workshop table...... with shelves. . . AND A PEG BOARD for all my tools in my pink tool belt.  This garage door wasn't gonna get me. . . piece a cake!

So, being the smart, blonde princess of handyness that I am, I pushed the bottom corner of the garage door with my left hand and jimmied the off track corner with my right hand. . . . I was working above my head. . . . and then it happened!

The spring loaded cable snapped and my right hand got stuck between two pieces of steel!  Oh honey. . . . it hurt so bad. . . I couldn't even curse!  I couldn't scream and I couldn't breathe!  I saw stars. . . .and planets .. . . oh yeah. . . and Elvis!                         See the bottom corner where that metal piece is sticking out?  It's attached to the cable between the door and the rail.  That rail and that piece sticking out was where my hand was caught.  Only the door was up above my head!

This is where it gets very funny!  I know,half of you have passed out cold and will have to get up and read the rest when you come to your senses!  I DIDN'T HAVE TIME FOR FOOLISHNESS AND A WEAK STOMACH!  It was time to get dressed for work and I had went and gotten myself into a jam   (LOL) literally!

I remembered watching the news a couple years ago when a rock climbing guy got his arm jammed between two rocks.  He had to cut his hand off to survive.  So, my survival skills kicked in and I said to myself, "Self, you got a cell phone!  Use it!" 

But NOOOOOO!  That cell phone was laying on the seat of my SUV, while the door was standing wide open and the key in the ignition was still doing what had become a very annoying. . .ding ding ding ding ding ding. . . .

So, I started communicating with myself again and said, "Self. . .this is it! YOu gotta get loose before you have to hang out here all day!  So, as hard as I could, I pushed and pulled that door with my left hand until I had almost pinched my hand in half!  That was when I realized I really needed a leather belt!  Yep. . a leather belt.  . .so I could bite down on it while I ripped my hand free.

But NOOOOOOO!  I had on stupid sweat pants!  All there was - was a draw string and if I pulled that loose with my free hand, my pants would be around my ankles. . . in front of  GOD and anyone who drove by!  Couldn't get caught "dead" like that.

Without having anymore conversations with "SELF", I just started pulling for all I was worth!  When my hand finally came loose, I realized my left hand was around my right wrist.  OMG!  I was self-mutilating!  What will the neighbors think?  Forget the garage door!  Forget my pants around my ankles!  I had resorted to pulling my hand off! 

Well, since it had been above my head for about 10 minutes, it looked dead!  THERE WASN'T EVEN one drop of blood coming out. . . . until. . . . . I lowered my hand.  THEN. . . .the feeling came back. . . the blood started gushing. . . . I grabbed those flippin keys out of the ignition BECAUSE I COULDN'T STAND THE NOISE AND THE PAIN at the same time!

I ran. . . . literally ran into the door of the house trying to get it open!  When I finally got it unlocked and got inside, I was able to speak!  uh hmmmm.........it sounded like jibberish!  There were no words!  The dogs wanted to lick my face. . . but how could they get to my face?  Well, I had dropped to the floor, sitting Indian style, holding my hand, rocking back and forth like someone you see in s psych ward from a bad movie. . . . just mumbling. . . . tears rolling down my face. . . . sort of in shock. . . . that's when it hit me!  I'm gonna be late for work!

So, I jumped up, let the dogs out, tried like none other to shower and wash my hair with one hand!  Didn't work!  Soap burned like fire!  But don't worry, I wasn't gonna bleed to death!  I had it under control!

I plugged in the blow dryer, turned my head up side down and used ONE... (1)... O-N-E... hand to dry my hair!  No brush, No product, No fluffy stuff, just a freakin' blow dryer!

Thank God I am left handed!

But wait, what was that smell?

It was a smoky electric smell?

Coming from the blow dryer!

Crap!  The blow dryer heating element went bad and was on fire, melting the freakin thing IN MY HAIR!

But I was in a fantastic mood!  Yep, there I was laughing like a hysterical axe murderer!  I mean really, what else could happen at this point!  I had nearly blown out the entire garage door with the SUV.  I had managed to practically rip my hand off!  And now, I was seconds away from electricuting myself due to a faulty blow dryer!

So yeah!  I was laughing!  All the while thinking. . . . . "I hope Satan had to take a Xanax today because I'm staying in a GREAT mood come hell or high water!"

So, I got another blow dryer, did that whole routine over, got dressed and went back to the garage to leave.

Now, realizing I had to push the door completely up. . . . crooked and all. . . . kinda sent me on edge!  I had to go to the drug store because my hand that I had managed to filet open. . . .had no bandage!  OUR ER kit was EMPTY!  What kind of freakin' nurse do I live with anyway? 

I locked the door to the house, slowly lifted the crooked garage door and backed out of the garage, left the keys in the ignition, left my cell phone on the seat, AGAIN~ went back into the garage and spent 15 WHOLE minutes using one hand and two feet to fight that door as far down as it would go! 

Then. . . I recognized one itsy bitsy problem!  I WAS LOCKED INSIDE THE GARAGE!  I couldn't budge that door open again!  I'm a handy girl remember!  I decided to use a plastic gift card, laying on the workshop table to open the door!  WRONG!!!!!!

We were burglarized 2 times last week!  I changed the locks. . . . upgraded them to BURGLAR PROOF!  I wasn't breaking through that door with an extra large tire tool or a tiny gift card!  I tried both, I know!

So, I threw up my hands!  Miss Daisy was barking that loud "someone's at the door" bark!  My SUV, just on the other side of the aluminum garage door was going, ding ding ding ding ding. . . . . . I was going nuts!

Until i realized there is a small window in our garage!  Yes. . . I am an intellegent woman!  I had that added to the plans when we built the house!  GREAT THOUGHT! 

I climbed over storage boxes, IN A BLACK PIN STRIPED SUIT AND HEELS!  I took the window apart to get the screen out!  I raised it to climb out and fell right out on the front lawn for all my neighbors and the children walking to the bus to see!  Yep!  There I was in all my glory!  A suit, heels, and a thousand spider webs from that corner of the garage!  SOMEBODY NEEDS TO HIRE A MAID FOR THIS GARAGE!

And, I laughed again.  Took my keys out of my truck, went through the house, put the window back together, used a lint roller on the spider webs, pulled myself together and walked out that front door like professional on wall street! 

You would have never known the hell I had just gone through!  I drove to Walgreen's, got my bandages, fixed my hand and then. . . . . . . .ARRIVED AT WORK. . . 15 MINUTES EARLY!

Okay, seriously. . . I NEVER GET TO WORK 15 minutes early!  Well, not until this mishap!  Who woulda thunk?

The Pastor's Sunday Best

Almost a month ago, I wrote a Sunday Best post.  In that post, I stated that it was something I wish to do weekly.  I want to share the way other's Glorify God in their everyday lives.  As a pastor, inspiration is something the whole world can use a lot more of.  The weeks that followed that post, I found myself trying to catch my balance with returning to work, continuing to be centered at home with my family and remaining focused and keeping myself "God-centered."

Needless to say, I have fallen short.  I remember reading the Apostle Paul's words:  "Many have fallen short of the Glory of God."

However, I am getting up which reminds me of the book of Proverbs.  One verse reads:  "A righteous man falls seven times." 
See it isn't about how many times you fall, it's about how many times you are willing to get back up and try again.

Today I wish to honor a gentleman who has continued to touch my life and the lives of so many others, each time we read his blog.  Brian Miller at Waystation One has the ability to reach the inner core of my soul, where God lives even when his post consists of  only 55 words.

If you are reading this post and have never visited Brian, you may do so by clicking HERE or any other word that is hyperbolded and underlined.

Brian is a father, a friend, someone's neighbor, a working man and a wonderful husband who loves his wife and remains "in love" with her.  His heart is wrapped tight around his family and the God he serves. 

I will tell you now, if you read his posts, be prepared to be transformed. . . . it will renew your mind!

Brian, I want you to know just how much you continue to bless me with your writing.  You truly have a gift to inspire and transform your world.  Thank you for reflecting the light of God in your life, so that He shines all the way to my computer screen.

Brian, I don't know if you accept Blog awards.  However, if you do, please accept this award.  This award cannot be given by another blogger.  It is from my blog.  I will continue to choose someone to receive it weekly.

Have a blessed and wonderful Sunday!

A Pastor's Confession - Mean Spiritedness

This week has taken more than seven days to come to a close.  I am tired physically and tired of the way I feel psychologically, due to the happenings of the week.  So, it is up to no one other than myself to do something about it!

As this week came to a close, I found myself wrestless, not being able to sleep through the nights.  It wasn't that I was fearful of being burglarized again.  My mind was racing to figure out how to find the creep who did it.  In addition to that, I received a few unwanted texts from a person who is not stable.  This helped the cops and us put 2 and 2 together to recognize who actually had taken the things that were taken. 

So, back to the wee hours of Thursday night. . . . I was laying there, tossing and turning, trying to meditate. . . trying to pray. . . trying to find that space between thoughts that brings so much peace.  Instead I kept hearing Liam Neeson over and over from the Movie "TAKEN".  Below is what I kept hearing. 



In my mind I kept thinking as if those words were coming from my mouth in relation to what we had gone through. By Friday evening, I was so full of anger, I had installed everything necessary to cause a burglar great pain. . . . if that person chose to step foot in our yard or cross the threshold of any door.


It was late Friday night, when the door to our bedroom jarred from the air as the heat came on. I bolted up right in bed, from a sound sleep, turned the light on, picked up my "armor", headed down the stairs and decided that I would rather beat the fool to death rather than make it quick.  I figured after losing this much sleep and becoming rather mean-spirited from the fear that had caused my heart to freeze over, I would just make it a nasty outcome.  Let me help you understand, if Sarah Conner (from Terminator) existed, I would have been her at that moment.

Then, I read a story from my brother's blog, TORAH GOY.  My oldest brother lived in Jerusalem, Israel for six months, several years ago.  He studied with an old Rabbi.  He learned to speak and read Hebrew.  He learned how to bridge the gap between the Old Testament and New Testament, while studying Torah and scrolls.  He now has the wonderful blog.  If you are so inclined to learn what he has learned, you make click HERE and go see him.  He writes very well. 

The particular piece I read was about what love really means.  My brother did well describing that.  I really needed to hear that description just that way.  For a moment. . . . I had a frosted heart. 

What I know in the bottom of my soul to be true is this:  "Love Always Wins.  In The End, Love Is All There IS."  I cannot remain soft and plyable for God to use as a vessel of love if I am so full of Anger and Meaness. 

I became side-tracked and lost my focus to be God-Centered.  I became "meaner than a striped snake".  It only takes a moment to slip into that snake skin if my mind remembers the phone texts and the burglaries.

I ask you, sincerely, for your prayers that my heart will be clean and open, ONLY to God.  I ask that you pray for that person to be completely removed from any path that I may come across.  Pray for that person to find help.  Lord knows, that person needs it!  And yet. . . . so do I!

I have read and often been told this: "The most powerful weapon is prayer". I have also read and been told: "The strongest and most powerful soldier is the soldier on his/her knees." That is where I truly have to focus now.

When someone prays, God sends His angels to take charge and fight for the prayer warrior.

Windjammers in the language of boats and ships are those great big sails which allow wind to get caught and navigate the way in which the person(s) on the boat wish to go.

I have found in life, each one of us have wind jammers.  The way in which we use those can be for our greater good or for our own demise.

You see, nothing is left to chance.  Each person who crosses our path, each obstacle we run into, each lesson is an opportunity for growth.  Often I have found myself being tossed about by "the wind" in life.  For a very long time, I didn't realize I was already equipped with my very own windjammers.

Once I realized each experience whether positive or negative was a lesson, it allowed me to recognize I have it in me to ride out the storm to the next adventure and become a professional sailer!  Life is full of surprises.  Storms come from nowhere.  Sunshine rises each morning without our permission.  However, if we are so focused on the dark clouds hiding the sun, we may just forget the windjammers we are equipped with.

Today, recognize you too have windjammers.  When the storm blows across your glassy sea of life, rocking your ship, raise your sails and point your life in the direction of your goals.  Let that storm assist you to meeting the end goal you set out to meet to begin with.

Before you know it, you will find it adventurous and maybe even a little fun.  Every cloud has a silver line.  And every person is equipped with windjammers.  Find yours and become the captain of your ship!

Make it a great day and a great life!

Grief: The Five Step Program

In our society, we have named Wednesday "hump day" (ie. the day in which one sees the horizon and a sweet glimpse of Friday).  I enjoy that point of view and sometimes think of it as "half way through the week I can make it until Friday gets here".

Anyhoo, in my recent experiences of returning to work, I find myself thankful for everyday of the week.  There isn't one I prefer over another during those five days. 

My brother and I began a new chapter in our lives this evening (Tuesday night).  We began facilitating a support group for family members whose loved ones are coping with the "caregiver" feelings of a loved one who suffers with Alzheimer's Disease.

It has been three years since the death of our mother.  I thought this would be my way to contribute and give back.  I've felt the aching pain of watching Mom waste away for 10 long years and survived the grieving process.  So, now it's my turn to give back.

What I learned tonight is that no matter how long ago it was, no matter what path a person is on, that ache can return at a moment's notice.  Feelings resurface and there we are.  Tonight, the feelings were not sad ones for me or for Mom.  Those feelings reached out to each person who sat in our circle.  I came to realize I wasn't there for them, at all.  Those people who came seeking help of another, were there to teach me about how incredible and wonderful moving through grief can be. 

I heard the words of denial. . . . that moment of mislead clarity when the family member just knows their loved one has been misdiagnosed.

I heard the growl of anger. . . when the results of a mini mental exam goes south and the feeling of a death sentence has been written across the physical and mental exam of a loved one.

I saw the depression in the lifeless eyes of one sitting in the circle, wondering how in the world she would make it to the next step without having to place a loved one in the "nursing home."

I saw the bargaining of a man who is willing to do whatever it takes to keep his mother out of a facility. . . at all costs!  He has made  a deal with God that if he lives only one day past his mother's death, he will never have to place her there.

I saw the acceptance of a man.  His eye twinkled when he talked about all the available widows in his church who have "rallied" around him to make sure he is getting enough rest, enough to eat, enough attention, etc.

I relieved those feelings for myself.  And I began to be thankful that each one of those stages exists.  During my own grief, I describe it as if I were standing in the ocean, waist deep.  And each moment the hurt hits hard, was the metaphor of an ocean wave knocking me over.  Each time I stood back up, was just before I felt like I would drown in my discomfort and woundedness of watching Mom fade away.

There were moments those waves washed me ashore like a beached whale and I couldn't for the life of me find my way back to the water where I knew I would live again.  Then denial would show up and be my friend. 

I have learned that denial is as vital a coping mechanism as the rest of the stages of grief.  If for only a moment, a day, a week or more, denial has a crucial place.  Denial is that place where we find comfort of not dealing with reality.  It is the place that allows us to take a deep cleansing breath before another wave knocks us to our knees again.

Denial is not the place where one can remain for a long period of time.  However, if you or a friend of yours is experiencing grief and you notice denial at the door step, let it be what it is. . . . a cleansing breath of air.  Reality sets in soon enough.  And with Alzheimer's it sets in over and over and over until the last breath is taken.

Tonight, I am thankful that I have found a wonderful group of people to hold a safe space for.  I am thankful that I have found a group of people who will be a safe place for me, to process those things I never processed, to remember the good times, to just remember and be blessed.