Saturday, February 18, 2012

A letter to my husband...

When I think of the story of us I can't help thinking of all these letters.   So much time, energy, thought, and love were poured into these pages.  We didn't have texting or email to cross the miles separating us.  And, you know, I'm kind of glad we didn't.  I love the memory of going to the mailbox hoping to find one of your letters, and when I did hurrying up to my room so I could be alone and read it- again and again.  Those are sweet and precious memories.  And I am so glad I have all of those letters so I can go back in time and remember how our love began.


They are words on a page, but more than that, they are words that came from hearts full of hope and dreams and love.  Words that remind us of who we are and where we started.  They remind us of the people we wanted to be and the things we wanted to accomplish.  These words are full of the faith and truth we still stand on today.

So may words... so much love...



 Sometimes I wish we would have kept in the practice of writing those letters.  I wish that life and its busyness hadn't gotten in the way.  But the thing is, life did happen and though we don't have words on a page to look at, we still have this story.  It happened minute by minute and over days and weeks and years.  Words, not on a page but spoken and unspoken, still tell our story. 


These words are written on our hearts and in the lives of our children and the people we love and love us.  All these words that make up who we are and have become.  We can see them when we look at each other and know that the victories, losses, sorrows, and joys haven't really changed us.  We are still us.  The hopes and dreams still live in these walls. 



Yes, all these words tell a story.  Our story has been exciting, scary, messy, funny, painful.  But never boring.  And always beautiful.  Our story has had many beginnings and too many endings.  Tragedy, comedy, adventure, love... our story has it all.  And then some.  So many words...



Our story is far from over.  Though I may sometimes wish for that boring middle part, I know that will never happen.  We learned long ago that we aren't the ones writing this story.  The Author of our story has kept it interesting and full of change.  He has written His purpose on our hearts.  There are times I long for normal, I know.  But normal never has and never will describe our story.  He keeps writing it and we keep living it.  And I know that no matter happens, with His word in my heart and your hand in mine, I will not only live our story but love it too.   


So many words have been written.  So many more still to be spoken.  A story to keep telling.  And life to keep living.  And a love that will keep growing.  And it all started with a letter.  




Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Dreams with Wings

Be as a bird perched on a frail branch that she feels bending beneath her, still she sings away all the same, knowing she has wings.   Victor Hugo

As mothers, don't we want to hold on as tightly and as long as we can?  We are taught and told that we need to give our children wings, but isn't that thought terrifying to you?  I know that I hold too tightly sometimes.  I know that, without realizing it, I may even hold them back.


But, fight as I might, there comes a time when you have to let them fly.  You have to let go and trust them.  And trust what you taught them.  And trust God.  And it is so scary.  I'm not ready.  I fight it.  I hold on until I realize it is out of my hands.  Something bigger and Someone stronger is calling them to do the thing they were meant to do.  So I let go with clenched hands.


And they fly.  They soar.  They find their wings.  I have already let one go and I know she is safe and whole and free.  Where she needs to be.  But, now, I have another who is ready to test her wings.  Like the bird in this quote above she has perched on a frail branch many times in her young life.  She knows what it is like to feel the wind blow and toss you about.  To hold on with all your might as you feel your world shift under you.  To just trust that Someone is holding onto you when you don't think you can do it anymore.  She knows this to be true.


But she hasn't just held on.  She has kept singing.  In the midst of the holding on and the tears and the shifting ground, she never lost her joy.  She never forgot who she is or who is holding her up.  So many times I had no words myself.  I was barely holding on myself.  But I kept praying that He would hold her and help her to keep singing.  And to find her own song. 


And how He has answered that prayer is amazing.  He has placed in her a love song for the world.  A heart that breaks for the lost, the weak, the hurting.  She hungers after Him and longs to serve Him.  She sees the need around her and her heart sings because she knows the Hand that has held her so far will hold her still.  And the song He has placed in her heart needs to be heard.
They need her song

He needs her song



It is her time to fly.  To try her wings.  Which means I need to trust her to remember the things we taught her.  To trust her to hear the song He's given her.  I can't hear it for her.  She has to hear it herself and know that it is hers.



So, it seems that the song He has given her requires much letting go on my part.  He has given her a heart for missions and I don't want to be holding her back from singing or flying.  Her dreams are hers and they are big and beautiful.


I know that the one who has held us this far will hold us still.  And her dreams will have wings.   I will watch her fly with my hands held open in front of me, letting her go and ready to catch her at the same time.  Because that's what mothers do.


You can read more about Allie's upcoming  trip to Haiti on her blog, www.becomingallie.blogspot.com.