The Movie
I don't know why I feel compelled to share this story, but here goes. I must have been 13 or so when my mother took me to the theatre to see a movie that I won't mention the name of here.
However, I feel stating my age at the time is important so you will sense how very impressionable I was.
It was a narrated movie and the music that played constantly in the background was by Neil Diamond. At the time I thought it was the best movie ever ... in the history of movies! I could relate to this movie ... there was someone out there who understood me so well ... someone who had managed to capture the way I felt in a movie! I loved it and could have watched it again and again. (Didn't get that opportunity due to the fact that there were no VHS or DVD movies back then and my mother couldn't take me back to the theatre repeatedly to see it). Just having seen it one time boosted my sense of self.
Several (as in decades of) years later, my husband was out of town and I invited my daughter and her two children over for a sleep-over. Once we put the children down for the night, I suggested we watch the movie (I happened to have a copy of it that my best friend had purchased for me for my 40th birthday)! I was so excited as I had not yet watched it (I was now 44) and I thought it would be the perfect ending to a perfect day. Jasmin and I gathered up our snacks and headed off to the bedroom where we propped ourselves up on big fluffy pillows, arranged our late night snacks on our night stands and situated ourselves for the start of the show.
We didn't get three minutes into that movie before Jasmin asked, " Mom ... are there people in this movie?" I had to stop and think back a minute ... " no honey, I don't think so". The conversation that ensued was something like the following; I believe Jasmin asked me if there were only birds in the movie and I answered that I thought so but I wasn't sure. We watched for about another 10 minutes and Jasmin said (as she was pulling her blanket up to cover her eyes), "Mom ... I'm confused" ... this led to a rolling, bubbling laughter like I had never experienced before or since. Here's why. We fast-forwarded thru that entire movie and we were grossed out by a fight scene and then just cracked up when a crow called the seagull "wise-guy" and "outcast" ... and then there was a lot more film of the bird flying over the ocean and several scenes of him flying over land and then it was basically over. I believe the single biggest thing that made us laugh so hard was the fact that I remembered that movie as being a change point in my life. Seeing the movie again so many years later just made me wonder ... "what the heck was I thinking when I was 13???" Scarey! I laugh now as I think of it. I have often, since then, teased my daughter about that night and that movie. I keep asking her if she would like a copy of it. She insists that she is just fine without ever seeing that movie again. I still think the movie has merit. The music was nice.

It is Well With My Soul
My father passed away back in 1994 on a cold Christmas morning after fighting the hardest battle he ever fought ... with an unworthy opponent ... cancer. That's right, after 3 seemingly unending months he surrendered around 11am on Christmas day. My parent's neighbor, upon hearing the news, came right away to offer his condolences to my mother with this thought, "Betty, the reason God chose today to take Gene home was to give him to Jesus as a birthday gift". Although it didn't erase our pain, it caused us to pause in the moment and feel a bit of calm. Love has a way of seeing us thru and beyond what WE feel we are capable of and transporting us to a place where God wants us to be. It is well with my soul.

Once Upon A Time...
Once upon a time there were homes where the mommies and daddies stayed married forever and ever. There were neighborhoods where children could romp and play to their heart's delight with no fear. Street lights coming on at dusk were a signal to go home to family time. Children took pride in their chores and tried to be the very best at what they did. Families prayed together and grew stronger for it. A child's imagination was a delightful thing ... there were no cell phones, no ipods or computers or gameboys. There were families around a board game on Friday nights or perhaps children with crayons and a blank page to color on & explore or modeling clay to be molded into all sorts of imagined shapes. Once upon a time there was peace within the home and home was where the heart was. We can not change the moral fabric of this current world we live in overnight, however, we can make an immediate change in our own hearts, in our own homes and commit ourselves to realize the true meaning of committment, romp and play to our heart's delight with our children or our mates ... make time for "familytime" often ... direct our children and teach them the value of chores; praising them for jobs well done upon completiion ... may we fill our children's time with events of value and learning instead of filling their hands with idol pieces of technology which will rob them of their rightful childhoods and last, but not least, may we all explore and mold our futures into wisps of time that glorify God.

What Do You Want to Be When You Grow Up?
Isn't it something when you run across a small child that not only seems to "know" what they will become but is so convicted that years later (after dedicating their entire lives to their goal) they end up realizing their dream? I have seen it with my own eyes and am amazed. (We are so happy for you, Brad!) I still, at 50, have no idea what I want to be when I grow up ... I only know that one day I only hope I find myself to be at peace with that which I've become.

As a small child I would clamor to answer that very question, though ... I remember saying I wanted to be a veterinarian more than any other choice, I also wanted to be a dancer or a professional singer/songwriter. None of those things have come to be so I'm still waiting to see what happens. I did become a mom to four beautiful children along the way. (Thank you Lord!) Even today I am asked off an on and probably in "jest" what I want to be when I grow up and I think to myself ... I really want to be whatever it is God wants me to be. Yes, some of us seem to know right from the time we are old enough to speak while others of us may seem to be "drifting". But you never know ... perhaps we are all right where we are supposed to be, after all.

Passed The Point
© by Jasmin Black, Joliet, IL.
I just passed the point in my current pregnancy at which I miscarried our baby during our last pregnancy. That point brought many raw emotions back to the surface for both myself and my husband. Fear, praise, sadness, joy, loss and yet it became a point for me to turn from yesterday and look forward to tomorrow. Each pregnancy, each harboring of a tiny growing baby is significant, important and powerful. With each of my pregnancies I have had new experiences ... each one has been unique. This time we are forging forward to have a baby we have prayed for over many years' time. Just this week we were told that there may be challenges with our new little one. This will increase our time on bended knee. But all I really hope for is that God see us through to the end of this nine months and that He prepare us for whatever lies ahead. We love our baby, as we hope he/she will love us ... in all our imperfections.

Girl Stuff
I am just a little tired of all the "girl stuff" going on in my life right now. Who knew that as you grow older more "stuff" happens to you physically than you can even imagine. Okay, I suppose I should preface this with the fact that not "that much" stuff has happened to me and I hope it doesn't however ... I am just awestruck at how so many women kind of suffer through the transition of physically going from "young" into "mid-life". It can be daunting! I would love to contribute praise about this particular subject but somehow feel that prayer would be more appropriate! lol I would like to extend an invitation to all of the readers out there to create a forum within these pages to talk about it. Anyone out there interested? Sign in to THE GUEST BOOK and blaze a trail!

Expectations
I suppose to a child I seemed too complicated and therefore not interesting. I had given it my best shot. What I failed to realize was that my expectations were much too high. They were barely 5 and 6 years old and I was asking them to think like 30 year olds. Not likely. Their little heads nodded back and forth from left to right as they took in my full height with their precious little (now glazed-over) eyes. Once they seemed to have me in focus they dismissed me as if I were the most boring thing on earth.
My heartstrings uttered a very loud "thwang" as one almost broke but quickly readjusted itself.
My little minions had finally (and rightfully) grown past their enchantment with mommy and were now turning their attentions elsewhere. Lulu had just that very day experienced her first day of kindergarten. I suppose I had experienced it as well with Ms. Abigale here at home but on a different level. I wanted to take 2 excedrin and climb into bed. Lulu couldn't help, in her excited chatter, sharing every nuance of her day with her little sister. Abigale was all ears. She quickly left the arms of her mommy to give her sister the full-on attention she felt was deserved. I watched the two of them with their springy little curls bouncing all over their heads as they laughed, giggled, ooohhed and aaahhhed over every detail. I wanted to join in but was ever so uncalculatingly being left out. This was a reverent time of sisterhood. Mothers not allowed. That's it ... I grab the next best consoling thing in the house ... the sock monkey laying deserted on the floor by the sofa and head back to my bedroom where I am sure I can hear my pillow calling for me. Both girls have now turned the volume of their little voices into mere whispers and I am reminded that although my girls can unwittingly disclude me at times from their revelry, they are still, at other times, the most thoughtful and loving little girls in the land. No sooner had that thought left my mind than two bubbly little angels pounced onto my bed and filled my head with all sorts of 1st day of kindergarten tales ... Ms. Abigale faithfully filled in for her Lulu here and there just to make sure she gave me the full scope of details as they had been delivered to her. Although it's true that sisters share an inpenetrable bond ... there is nothing better in the world than being a mommy. :)

Mud
Slippery slopes of mud ... that's all they were. It was raining so hard that the grass beneath us ended up just soaked and as we ventured down those "harmless" little hills we began slipping and sliding and then laughing so hard our bellies hurt. I tried so hard to catch my breath but just when I felt I was on solid ground again ... off I would slide. My white slacks were now solid brown and wet to the core. My blouse was slimey and stuck to me like a second skin. As I looked around at the others in our group we all looked as if we had just taken a dunk in a mud pond. How did this happen? Five executives on their way from a penthouse board meeting simply taking a "shortcut" to a small bistro just down the way and all of a sudden we were all tumbling like little rag dolls in a torrential rain. The wind was gusting and drowning out our squeals as we fell. Five out of five of us were suddenly transformed into little children as we laughed and hollered and soaked up this sudden and spontaneous incident. What else could we do? The laughter was contagious. None of us had control of this situation. By the time we all landed at the bottom of the hill we were so choked up we could barely speak but the smiles on everyone's face spoke for us.

Not one person complained of falling ... not one was hurt. Not one person remained of the five that began the descent from the top of the hill for the five who once stood at the top of the hill were professionals, dressed to the nines, full of confidence and puffed up with stature. The five who landed at the bottom of the hill were mud-covered tassle headed little kids who had just taken the ride of their lives and were basking in the wonder and surprise of it. None of us are sure why it happened but I am here to tell you it transformed us one and all. To this day I take more time with my children to see the world from their perspective and to revel in the childlike freedoms that still abound. Mud ... it sure does wonders for the "complexion"!

The Bird Bath
You told me not to worry about the bird bath at the bottom of the hill. You assured me that there was no way I could possibly hit it. It was dead center at the bottom of that hill. That hill which seemed like a mountain to me at the time and yet when I was last there, just 2 years ago, I realized it was barely a hill at all. You helped me to navigate my path and then you kissed the top of my head and let me go. Down that hill I sailed ... the wind blowing my hair back from my face. Exhilaration was mine for a second ... and then ... my focus on NOT hitting the bird bath seemed to steer me straight towards it. I could hear you urging me to turn my handle bars so I would turn away from it and yet ... I couldn't. I smacked that bird bath straight on. My little bike stopped instantly but my faith in you never waivered, for as you picked me up off the ground (snickering, if not out and out laughing), you were reassuring me that I was okay and I believed you. My skinned knees and elbows would be a temporary reminder of the day I learned to ride my bike. You told me how proud you were of me. You made everything okay. You always did. I miss you so! - thoughts of my father - may he rest in peace. 5/2/33 to 12/25/94 -bd

Your Word
In the quiet of my room I see your word ... resting over there on the table where it always is. It looks lonely, neglected and dusty. Something draws me to it ... perhaps it is the gold that shines so brightly ... the gold that edges all of the pages (almost inperceptibly when opened). I read just a few short passages then feel an urging to press on and as I read I am filled once more with hope, renewal, strength and excitement. I am reminded once again that this is a book that should never collect dust.