"There are two ways to spread the light. To be the candle or to be the mirror that reflects it. - Edith Wharton"
This quote speaks to me. Just as this song does by Kathy Troccoli.
I was reminded by this by reading Lori's post today. She inspires me. I find inspiration in many things lately. And some days, I just have to share the light. Even if it's just a miniscule glimpse. Other days, (as my friend Melissa has said) I have the rays of light just beaming from my fingertips.
The first time I heard this song, I was in church on a Sunday morning a few years ago and they showed a video with this song. I tell you, I don't remember being so absolutely touched like this during a song/video. And even today, it still stirs within me. So, I just had to share it.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Monday, May 19, 2008
Foggy, Tender Moments
First, let me give you a laugh. I laugh every time I think about this now. I woke up this morning, after a fitfull night. Brian has a tickle in his throat and coughs every twenty seconds. (No, not REALLY. It's more like every minute. But it feels like 20 seconds!) Anyway, we both were laying in bed last night trying to find our precious friend called sleep. I think he even drank some Nyquil to try falling asleep between coughs. After a couple hours of laying there in the bed, Brian got up to move to the couch. How sweet is he?! I kept falling asleep, but would wake up every time he coughed. I don't know if he fell asleep between them or not. He said that he finally slept after 2AM this morning!! WHAAA?! He gets up at 5:30 to go to work!! Poor, poor fellow!!! Now, back to the laugh I promised you! I got up with my alarm and foggily walked to the kitchen to find my loved, adored, (necessary!!!!!) coffee. I got my cup, my lid, my spoon, and my hot chocolate mix. I MUST drink my coffee with hot cocoa. The type I have right now has those mini marshmallows in it. I opened that container and looked it. My first thought was "WHY ARE THERE POPCORN KERNELS IN MY COCOA?!"
Hello!!?? I was so mad at first. I'm immediately thinking "Who in the world would DARE do something like this? I'm just about to lose my cool on these kids!!!" Then I took my spoon and thought "well, I'll just fish out the kernels and make my coffee". Ugh. Just looking back at how quick I was to judge. I am ashamed. But it's just so funny that I "saw" popcorn kernels in my cocoa. I've been using this container for a month now. I should KNOW that there are marshmallows in it!!! I scooped the first scoop in my coffee cup and saw that they were indeed marshmallows - NOT popcorn kernels. Whew. The kids are safe for yet another morning from the monster known as "Decaffinated Mama". Thank you, Lord!!
Now, moving on.....
Some moments are so precious and so tender. I usually have several through the day or week with my boy, Tyler. And this morning held one so dear that I just have to write about it. Especially once I came out of my fog!
Brief look back ... a few weeks ago we were getting alot of rain. I mean, "Where is Noah with that ark - kind of rain!" And so there were LOTS of worms out of the ground. So, whenever we'd leave in the morning, we'd be dodging them, hoping to avoid squishing them walking to the truck. And sweet, tender-hearted Tyler would BEG me to not hit them while driving. This is impossible, seeing as there are a million of them everywhere on the road! So, I made him a deal, I would drive in the center of the road. There seemed to be less in the center. This was only halfway acceptable, but he agreed. The love in his eyes for these earthworms is absolutely amazing!! I mean, they are JUST worms! Right?!
Today, we are making our usual way to school. I am driving my old, faithful route, because I'm just OCD-ish about that. (That's another subject entirely.) And there is a car in front of us, about five or six car lengths away. I saw a young robin swooping in front of that car. Sadly, I didn't see the robin swooping up and away. My immediate reaction was to say "Awww. Oh no." And that, of course, got Tyler's attention. So, he is immediately looking to see what was going on. The poor robin was flailing on the road. What do I do? So, I swerve to miss the poor, flailing, injured bird. I know that my heart is breaking for this bird. But not as half as bad as the young boy next to me. I look over and his face says it all. There is absolute devastation, unabashed sorrow, and pure love.
I began to tear up. I reached out to hold his hand. His expression was … desolate, bleak, depressed, crushed … you get the idea. His reaction added to my despair. Not only did I just witness the entire cruel incident, I caused my sweet boy to witness the dying bird’s attempt to struggle to life, to flight, to safety. Ugh. This was a horrible thing.
As we kept driving along, me holding his hand and fighting for words to comfort him, fighting the tears that are stinging my eyes and begging to be released down my cheeks, I could only squeeze his hand, knowingly. He asked me why we didn’t stop to help the bird. Ugh, again (still), you’re breaking my heart, boy. I explained to him that there was nothing that we could do to help this poor bird.
Where would comfort come from at this point? What can I say or do? To show true compassion to this boy that is so full of love? To comfort this child that doesn't understand how or why this death needed to happen? To validate his feelings? To show him that it's just natural? To not minimize his value of all life for all creatures, but to steer him toward acceptance? To reassure him that this is "just one bird"? To minimize the trauma, the devastation, and absolute horror that he's just witnessed?
As we pulled into the school, I had no words for or about the bird. I could only look into his eyes and tell him that I love him. I gave him a lip-sticky kiss. I rubbed his cheek. I ran my hand along his face. I told him again that I loved him. In his eyes, I see the love reflected back at me. He told me he loved me too. And I knew he'd be okay. He won't forget what he'd seen. But he accepted it quietly and was comforted (I hope) by the fact that I'd allowed him the sorrow. I'd allowed him to feel this loss, and I was at his side in full support.
This reminds me of the time when I was visiting Panama City while 7 months pregnant with Kayla. My granny was driving me down Hwy 98 (Tyndall Parkway) and we rounded the corner headed into Springfield (toward Transmitter - for all you locals). There was a turtle in the road. I begged my granny to PLEASE , please stop so I could move that turtle. She did. She pulled over and just shook her head. I was 19 then. I went back, picked up the turtle and carried it back to the side of the road. I faced him away from the 4-lane road and ran back to the car. She, again, just shook her head. But I was sooo thankful. She showed so much love and compassion JUST by stopping the car for me! I will always be grateful for that!
So, the apple does NOT fall far from the tree. Thank you Lord, again, for your blessings on me! I am truly blessed in so many ways.
Hello!!?? I was so mad at first. I'm immediately thinking "Who in the world would DARE do something like this? I'm just about to lose my cool on these kids!!!" Then I took my spoon and thought "well, I'll just fish out the kernels and make my coffee". Ugh. Just looking back at how quick I was to judge. I am ashamed. But it's just so funny that I "saw" popcorn kernels in my cocoa. I've been using this container for a month now. I should KNOW that there are marshmallows in it!!! I scooped the first scoop in my coffee cup and saw that they were indeed marshmallows - NOT popcorn kernels. Whew. The kids are safe for yet another morning from the monster known as "Decaffinated Mama". Thank you, Lord!!
Now, moving on.....
Some moments are so precious and so tender. I usually have several through the day or week with my boy, Tyler. And this morning held one so dear that I just have to write about it. Especially once I came out of my fog!
Brief look back ... a few weeks ago we were getting alot of rain. I mean, "Where is Noah with that ark - kind of rain!" And so there were LOTS of worms out of the ground. So, whenever we'd leave in the morning, we'd be dodging them, hoping to avoid squishing them walking to the truck. And sweet, tender-hearted Tyler would BEG me to not hit them while driving. This is impossible, seeing as there are a million of them everywhere on the road! So, I made him a deal, I would drive in the center of the road. There seemed to be less in the center. This was only halfway acceptable, but he agreed. The love in his eyes for these earthworms is absolutely amazing!! I mean, they are JUST worms! Right?!
Today, we are making our usual way to school. I am driving my old, faithful route, because I'm just OCD-ish about that. (That's another subject entirely.) And there is a car in front of us, about five or six car lengths away. I saw a young robin swooping in front of that car. Sadly, I didn't see the robin swooping up and away. My immediate reaction was to say "Awww. Oh no." And that, of course, got Tyler's attention. So, he is immediately looking to see what was going on. The poor robin was flailing on the road. What do I do? So, I swerve to miss the poor, flailing, injured bird. I know that my heart is breaking for this bird. But not as half as bad as the young boy next to me. I look over and his face says it all. There is absolute devastation, unabashed sorrow, and pure love.
I began to tear up. I reached out to hold his hand. His expression was … desolate, bleak, depressed, crushed … you get the idea. His reaction added to my despair. Not only did I just witness the entire cruel incident, I caused my sweet boy to witness the dying bird’s attempt to struggle to life, to flight, to safety. Ugh. This was a horrible thing.
As we kept driving along, me holding his hand and fighting for words to comfort him, fighting the tears that are stinging my eyes and begging to be released down my cheeks, I could only squeeze his hand, knowingly. He asked me why we didn’t stop to help the bird. Ugh, again (still), you’re breaking my heart, boy. I explained to him that there was nothing that we could do to help this poor bird.
Where would comfort come from at this point? What can I say or do? To show true compassion to this boy that is so full of love? To comfort this child that doesn't understand how or why this death needed to happen? To validate his feelings? To show him that it's just natural? To not minimize his value of all life for all creatures, but to steer him toward acceptance? To reassure him that this is "just one bird"? To minimize the trauma, the devastation, and absolute horror that he's just witnessed?
As we pulled into the school, I had no words for or about the bird. I could only look into his eyes and tell him that I love him. I gave him a lip-sticky kiss. I rubbed his cheek. I ran my hand along his face. I told him again that I loved him. In his eyes, I see the love reflected back at me. He told me he loved me too. And I knew he'd be okay. He won't forget what he'd seen. But he accepted it quietly and was comforted (I hope) by the fact that I'd allowed him the sorrow. I'd allowed him to feel this loss, and I was at his side in full support.
This reminds me of the time when I was visiting Panama City while 7 months pregnant with Kayla. My granny was driving me down Hwy 98 (Tyndall Parkway) and we rounded the corner headed into Springfield (toward Transmitter - for all you locals). There was a turtle in the road. I begged my granny to PLEASE , please stop so I could move that turtle. She did. She pulled over and just shook her head. I was 19 then. I went back, picked up the turtle and carried it back to the side of the road. I faced him away from the 4-lane road and ran back to the car. She, again, just shook her head. But I was sooo thankful. She showed so much love and compassion JUST by stopping the car for me! I will always be grateful for that!
So, the apple does NOT fall far from the tree. Thank you Lord, again, for your blessings on me! I am truly blessed in so many ways.
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