Happy Birthday, first grandchild. Today you are two weeks old. And you are such a darling. I have few words to describe what it feels like to be your grandma. You make my heart fill with love such as I have not felt before. I feel as protective of you as I did of your mama when she was your age. You are brilliant, baby boy - such a wonderful gift to all of us. I love you, little man. I know you won't be reading this for quite a long time, but still, I want you to know that you are special, loved to the nth degree, and cherished. Your mama and papa's eyes are glowing with pride. And so are mine.
Welcome to the world, grandbaby. It's a wonderful place filled with beauty and radiance. You have been born into a family of great love and caring. You are blessed. And we are blessed even more to have you here among us...
You have my heart...
Your grandma xxoo
Sunday, 13 November 2011
Things your Oma taught me..
Hello Children, mom here...
Oma. I know you didn't get to know her well - her being so far away and all - but she is a pretty amazing woman. Early in my marriage, I knew that I hoped to grow to be as strong and wise as she was. She inspired me, honestly. When we moved from Ontario to BC and I got to know her, I was amazed at how she was always giving back - to her husband, to her church, to those around her. To us, your dad and I. I am thankful for the short time I got to spend with her before she moved back to Holland.
My first Christmas away from my family, she taught me, without even speaking, how to let go of expectations. My family Christmases where always the same - just family, everyone came home, we did things a certain way, certain things were a 'must' and couldn't be left out. Of course, and always, as long as my dad was alive, there was a huge real Christmas tree in our living room. We would get up on Christmas morning and open presents right away, then have a huge Christmas breakfast, then everyone that wasn't there for Christmas breakfast showed up for Christmas dinner (ALWAYS turkey) and it was chaotic, hectic, crazy-making, and fun. There were only family members, it was like a 'rule' that no friends ever got invited. Maybe because there were already too many of us. So, I had come to expect that all my Christmas's should be the same. So you can imagine my surprise when, our first Christmas morning spent in Victoria, BC, there was no Christmas tree! And, no one got up early! There was no Christmas breakfast shared with everyone! In fact, the festivities did not even begin until around 4 pm. Until then, Christmas day was 'just another day'.
That was the first shock. I didn't know what to do with myself that day. It felt uncomfortable, I was grumpy and lonely - not a good start to what I thought Christmas "should" be...
Dinner included not just the family, but quite a few friends from Oma and Opa's community, as well. Something else I had to 'get used to'. And there was no turkey! She served goose! Imagine...goose! How COULD she? And presents...well...they came at the very end of the day, instead of the beginning. We didn't open presents till Christmas day evening. And everyone had to create a poem for the person they were giving the present to. That was fun.
So, my first Christmas away from home was upside down, inside out, and backwards. But you know what? I had so much fun!!!!!!! And starting with that day I began to learn that life is what you make it. Christmas can be upside down, inside out and backwards and still be a great time. That life lesson from Oma began to help me see that I could let go of expectations...and still have a blast!
Stay tuned for another entry on 'things I learned from Oma'...coming soon!
Love always,
Your mom xxoo
Oma. I know you didn't get to know her well - her being so far away and all - but she is a pretty amazing woman. Early in my marriage, I knew that I hoped to grow to be as strong and wise as she was. She inspired me, honestly. When we moved from Ontario to BC and I got to know her, I was amazed at how she was always giving back - to her husband, to her church, to those around her. To us, your dad and I. I am thankful for the short time I got to spend with her before she moved back to Holland.
My first Christmas away from my family, she taught me, without even speaking, how to let go of expectations. My family Christmases where always the same - just family, everyone came home, we did things a certain way, certain things were a 'must' and couldn't be left out. Of course, and always, as long as my dad was alive, there was a huge real Christmas tree in our living room. We would get up on Christmas morning and open presents right away, then have a huge Christmas breakfast, then everyone that wasn't there for Christmas breakfast showed up for Christmas dinner (ALWAYS turkey) and it was chaotic, hectic, crazy-making, and fun. There were only family members, it was like a 'rule' that no friends ever got invited. Maybe because there were already too many of us. So, I had come to expect that all my Christmas's should be the same. So you can imagine my surprise when, our first Christmas morning spent in Victoria, BC, there was no Christmas tree! And, no one got up early! There was no Christmas breakfast shared with everyone! In fact, the festivities did not even begin until around 4 pm. Until then, Christmas day was 'just another day'.
That was the first shock. I didn't know what to do with myself that day. It felt uncomfortable, I was grumpy and lonely - not a good start to what I thought Christmas "should" be...
Dinner included not just the family, but quite a few friends from Oma and Opa's community, as well. Something else I had to 'get used to'. And there was no turkey! She served goose! Imagine...goose! How COULD she? And presents...well...they came at the very end of the day, instead of the beginning. We didn't open presents till Christmas day evening. And everyone had to create a poem for the person they were giving the present to. That was fun.
So, my first Christmas away from home was upside down, inside out, and backwards. But you know what? I had so much fun!!!!!!! And starting with that day I began to learn that life is what you make it. Christmas can be upside down, inside out and backwards and still be a great time. That life lesson from Oma began to help me see that I could let go of expectations...and still have a blast!
Stay tuned for another entry on 'things I learned from Oma'...coming soon!
Love always,
Your mom xxoo
Saturday, 15 October 2011
It's Hallowe'en...the lamp is lit...
...and round the campfire we children sit...a'telling ghost stories bit by bit...IT'S A GOBLIN!!!
Hello children, mom here,
On a lighter note this time. Ahhh, Hallowe'en. That time of year when we dress up and go out begging for candy! Hallowe'en was always such fun at my house, growing up. There was so much excitement! The anticipation of 'something scary' kept us all on a high for the hours leading up to when the sun went down and we all dressed up and took to the streets.
I remember we mostly dressed as 'bums' - back in that day, that is what homeless folk would be called. We didn't really have 'bums' in our town, except the ones that road the trains, that would stop in each town and beg for money or food, then get back on the next train and head for the next town. (Yes, that really did happen, just like in the movies!)
But there were no fancy store bought costumes. No fancy drugstore makeup, either. At least not at our house. We used the coal in our fireplace to cover our faces. And somehow we always had an assortment of old, ragged clothes (probably kept from year to year) that we all used. And when we were ready, we'd grab our pillow cases (yup-no plastic pumpkin heads for us) and head out. We headed out with each other, or with friends. Parents never ventured out with us, there seemed no need back then. No one was afraid of being snatched or hurt. We were on our own, which made it more fun, of course! And we would canvas the town. (No, not just the neighborhood - the whole town!) I'm serious!
Back then, we would get all kinds of goodies kids don't see today. Like homemade candy apples! Fresh baked cookies and brownies! Cans of pop! HUGE chocolate bars! We got to know all the 'good' houses to go to each year - the houses with the best goodies. Those are the houses everyone would try to get to first, cause if you didn't, everything would be gone. I remember we'd walk the main street and go into the stores. Many merchants would require us to sing or dance before we got the goodies. I hated those stores! (I was painfully shy) But, we'd do it anyhow, for the candy.
There was no going out for an hour and filling a tiny bowl and then coming home and calling it a night. Nope. We'd fill the pillow case as full as we could carry, then come home, empty it, and go out again! Trick or treating would literally start at 6 pm and go on till about 10 or 11. Crazy, yes, but too fun! And the haul we would end up with would last a year and a half! I remember stuffing bedside tables and small cabinets with goodies - hiding them from my older brothers who could be vultures. We would often come across candy we'd hidden and forgotten where.......
When you were little, I think Hallowe'en was quite a fun time for you all, as well. At least, I tried to make it so. Living in our townhouse, I remember I would make a big pot of chili and invite some of our friends and their kids over before we took you all out. And the firework show that dad put on each year. I wonder if that continued.....or if it died when we left there...
Hallowe'en was one of the best times of year for me. The memories begin as soon as the cool weather comes - and the air fills with the smell of bonfires - and the leaves begin to spiral around the streets before winter sets in. Those are good memories. I guess that's why I STILL love Hallowe'en, even though you're all grown up now. I can't wait to make Hallowe'en special for my grandbaby.
Love you guys,
Mom xxoo
Hello children, mom here,
On a lighter note this time. Ahhh, Hallowe'en. That time of year when we dress up and go out begging for candy! Hallowe'en was always such fun at my house, growing up. There was so much excitement! The anticipation of 'something scary' kept us all on a high for the hours leading up to when the sun went down and we all dressed up and took to the streets.
I remember we mostly dressed as 'bums' - back in that day, that is what homeless folk would be called. We didn't really have 'bums' in our town, except the ones that road the trains, that would stop in each town and beg for money or food, then get back on the next train and head for the next town. (Yes, that really did happen, just like in the movies!)
But there were no fancy store bought costumes. No fancy drugstore makeup, either. At least not at our house. We used the coal in our fireplace to cover our faces. And somehow we always had an assortment of old, ragged clothes (probably kept from year to year) that we all used. And when we were ready, we'd grab our pillow cases (yup-no plastic pumpkin heads for us) and head out. We headed out with each other, or with friends. Parents never ventured out with us, there seemed no need back then. No one was afraid of being snatched or hurt. We were on our own, which made it more fun, of course! And we would canvas the town. (No, not just the neighborhood - the whole town!) I'm serious!
Back then, we would get all kinds of goodies kids don't see today. Like homemade candy apples! Fresh baked cookies and brownies! Cans of pop! HUGE chocolate bars! We got to know all the 'good' houses to go to each year - the houses with the best goodies. Those are the houses everyone would try to get to first, cause if you didn't, everything would be gone. I remember we'd walk the main street and go into the stores. Many merchants would require us to sing or dance before we got the goodies. I hated those stores! (I was painfully shy) But, we'd do it anyhow, for the candy.
There was no going out for an hour and filling a tiny bowl and then coming home and calling it a night. Nope. We'd fill the pillow case as full as we could carry, then come home, empty it, and go out again! Trick or treating would literally start at 6 pm and go on till about 10 or 11. Crazy, yes, but too fun! And the haul we would end up with would last a year and a half! I remember stuffing bedside tables and small cabinets with goodies - hiding them from my older brothers who could be vultures. We would often come across candy we'd hidden and forgotten where.......
When you were little, I think Hallowe'en was quite a fun time for you all, as well. At least, I tried to make it so. Living in our townhouse, I remember I would make a big pot of chili and invite some of our friends and their kids over before we took you all out. And the firework show that dad put on each year. I wonder if that continued.....or if it died when we left there...
Hallowe'en was one of the best times of year for me. The memories begin as soon as the cool weather comes - and the air fills with the smell of bonfires - and the leaves begin to spiral around the streets before winter sets in. Those are good memories. I guess that's why I STILL love Hallowe'en, even though you're all grown up now. I can't wait to make Hallowe'en special for my grandbaby.
Love you guys,
Mom xxoo
Tuesday, 16 August 2011
On Forgiving...
Hello, my children,
This is your mother speaking. I first of all want to tell you just how wonderful it is to be your mother. I am truly blessed to have each of you in my life, and also blessed that we are all 'friends'. Not every parent and child get to stay friends.
I was listening to a talk show the other day on the radio and the gentleman being interviewed said something that at first I thought was odd. He said, "It can be therapeutic to hate your parents". He was talking about his relationship with his dad and how it had been very rocky in his earlier years, but how that he and his dad got through those times and are now able to have quite a good relationship. Why do I speak of this, you ask? Well, as you know, I had some 'hating' to do around my parents. And in my family it was never ok to admit that you were angry with your mom and dad! Never! So the anger I felt (and had no idea how to express) went 'down under'. It wasn't good. Not at all.
Since, though, I have learned that it's ok to be angry with mom and dad. I myself had to let all that anger out before healing would begin. But here's the thing I guess I'm really trying to say to you. It is not healthy for any of us to hold on to anger forever. Holding on to anger only serves to make people depressed and physically ill. In fact, holding on to any negative emotion can do that to us. Through learning Reiki and through the therapy I did, I learned that our bodies store memories and emotions. Our bodies remember everything! And that is why, if there is anger or unforgiveness in our hearts, we do best to find a way to release those negative ways of being. Holding on to negative junk only hurts us. It doesn't hurt the people we are angry at. So finding a way to release those thoughts and emotions are imperative in our overall wellness. I believe that with all my heart....
And that is why, yes, I was angry. So angry!! And once I got all of that out, it was easier to see my parents in a new light. A loving light. A forgiving light. Nowadays, I can remember all the good things about them. Nowadays I can say I love them, and I know they loved me. This is why I sort of understood what that gentleman was saying about it being 'therapeutic' to hate your parents.
It's ok and understandable to be angry, but we must somehow get past it. So, dear children, someday, if you are ever exploring your anger toward mom and/or dad, that's ok with me. All I ask is that you get past it, for your own health and wellness.
Forever yours,
Your Mother
This is your mother speaking. I first of all want to tell you just how wonderful it is to be your mother. I am truly blessed to have each of you in my life, and also blessed that we are all 'friends'. Not every parent and child get to stay friends.
I was listening to a talk show the other day on the radio and the gentleman being interviewed said something that at first I thought was odd. He said, "It can be therapeutic to hate your parents". He was talking about his relationship with his dad and how it had been very rocky in his earlier years, but how that he and his dad got through those times and are now able to have quite a good relationship. Why do I speak of this, you ask? Well, as you know, I had some 'hating' to do around my parents. And in my family it was never ok to admit that you were angry with your mom and dad! Never! So the anger I felt (and had no idea how to express) went 'down under'. It wasn't good. Not at all.
Since, though, I have learned that it's ok to be angry with mom and dad. I myself had to let all that anger out before healing would begin. But here's the thing I guess I'm really trying to say to you. It is not healthy for any of us to hold on to anger forever. Holding on to anger only serves to make people depressed and physically ill. In fact, holding on to any negative emotion can do that to us. Through learning Reiki and through the therapy I did, I learned that our bodies store memories and emotions. Our bodies remember everything! And that is why, if there is anger or unforgiveness in our hearts, we do best to find a way to release those negative ways of being. Holding on to negative junk only hurts us. It doesn't hurt the people we are angry at. So finding a way to release those thoughts and emotions are imperative in our overall wellness. I believe that with all my heart....
And that is why, yes, I was angry. So angry!! And once I got all of that out, it was easier to see my parents in a new light. A loving light. A forgiving light. Nowadays, I can remember all the good things about them. Nowadays I can say I love them, and I know they loved me. This is why I sort of understood what that gentleman was saying about it being 'therapeutic' to hate your parents.
It's ok and understandable to be angry, but we must somehow get past it. So, dear children, someday, if you are ever exploring your anger toward mom and/or dad, that's ok with me. All I ask is that you get past it, for your own health and wellness.
Forever yours,
Your Mother
Saturday, 13 August 2011
On Being A Parent....as I see it!
When you were born, first daughter-of-mine, I prayed. I prayed that I would never make any mistakes. Quite a prayer, really, looking back and seeing the amount of mistakes I did make!
I remember praying that prayer a lot. Hundreds, even thousands of times in your young life. I thought that if I could only be perfect in everything I did, nothing bad would happen. Look at how that turned out, hey?
It took me many, many years to realize that I cannot be perfect! There is no such thing as perfection! In fact, I think I may be the most imperfect person I know. Man, I really, really hate admitting that. That's how much I still long to be perfect!
But this essay is not on perfection. It is on parenting. At least, my parenting.
I honestly wish I got to do it over, with the knowledge I now have, that I wish I had had back then. But more about mistake making later...
I want to try to explain the-most-wonderful-feeling-ever. It was the day each of you were born. The moment you were each put into my arms, there was a rush of something I had never felt before. I honestly believe that there is a love that lays dormant inside each of us until the day we hold our new baby. It sure felt like it to me. My heart welled up inside me in a way that I can barely describe in words. You three were gifts from God to us, your dad and I. Precious, precious gifts. To this day when I think of each of you my heart overflows. The love of a parent for their child is all consuming....
I write about this, dear first-daughter-of-mine, because in just two months you and your husband will be welcoming new life into your little family. And I want you-all three of you, my children, to know that you were, and are, loved deeply. You were, all three of you, wanted, fiercely. You have all brought such incredible joy to my heart and to my life. I treasure each of you.
If I could have a do-over, this is what I would do differently. I would acknowledge your feelings. In my growing up years, my feelings weren't so important. Any time I had a feeling, I would be laughed at, scorned, or told to 'get over it.' So it became easier to stuff my feelings, and for that I paid a very, very dear price. I worry that because I was not allowed to have feelings, that I may have not taught you that feelings need to be acknowledged-not scoffed at, or teased about, or told to get over it - no matter how trivial they may seem in the moment.
Something else I would do differently is this - I would allow anger. Anger was not allowed when I was growing up - in fact, anger was to be feared. With anger came very frightening things, so anger must be avoided at all costs. But I've since learned that anger is just another feeling. Anger can and should be felt and dealt with - and it is so important to learn healthy ways to deal with anger. Anger does not have to be feared, but instead, dealt with in the moment. If anger is stuffed, it becomes depression or something equally as difficult to have to live your life with.
Another thing I would change, if I had a do-over. I would try to make you feel so special! Like you three children were the most special three children in the universe! I had no idea how to do that, my darlings, because in the deepest part of my heart I believed I was not really wanted when I was a child. I want you to know you are everything to me, and if I failed to show that in any way, I am so very sorry.
Also, I would listen to you. I would give you my full-on attention. Instead of being impatient with you, telling you to go and play, or being too busy to stop and hear what you had to say. Or getting angry with you when you were only trying to be heard.....
But, I don't get a do-over. I wish I did. I often wonder why it is that the knowledge we need as a young person doesn't arrive until we are older. It doesn't seem fair, somehow. But there it is.
So, my darling first-daughter-about-to-have-her-first-child, listen to my words. And to my second daughter and my only son, heed what I have to say when someday you might have your first child. Because how I long for a do-over......
With love,
Your mother
I remember praying that prayer a lot. Hundreds, even thousands of times in your young life. I thought that if I could only be perfect in everything I did, nothing bad would happen. Look at how that turned out, hey?
It took me many, many years to realize that I cannot be perfect! There is no such thing as perfection! In fact, I think I may be the most imperfect person I know. Man, I really, really hate admitting that. That's how much I still long to be perfect!
But this essay is not on perfection. It is on parenting. At least, my parenting.
I honestly wish I got to do it over, with the knowledge I now have, that I wish I had had back then. But more about mistake making later...
I want to try to explain the-most-wonderful-feeling-ever. It was the day each of you were born. The moment you were each put into my arms, there was a rush of something I had never felt before. I honestly believe that there is a love that lays dormant inside each of us until the day we hold our new baby. It sure felt like it to me. My heart welled up inside me in a way that I can barely describe in words. You three were gifts from God to us, your dad and I. Precious, precious gifts. To this day when I think of each of you my heart overflows. The love of a parent for their child is all consuming....
I write about this, dear first-daughter-of-mine, because in just two months you and your husband will be welcoming new life into your little family. And I want you-all three of you, my children, to know that you were, and are, loved deeply. You were, all three of you, wanted, fiercely. You have all brought such incredible joy to my heart and to my life. I treasure each of you.
If I could have a do-over, this is what I would do differently. I would acknowledge your feelings. In my growing up years, my feelings weren't so important. Any time I had a feeling, I would be laughed at, scorned, or told to 'get over it.' So it became easier to stuff my feelings, and for that I paid a very, very dear price. I worry that because I was not allowed to have feelings, that I may have not taught you that feelings need to be acknowledged-not scoffed at, or teased about, or told to get over it - no matter how trivial they may seem in the moment.
Something else I would do differently is this - I would allow anger. Anger was not allowed when I was growing up - in fact, anger was to be feared. With anger came very frightening things, so anger must be avoided at all costs. But I've since learned that anger is just another feeling. Anger can and should be felt and dealt with - and it is so important to learn healthy ways to deal with anger. Anger does not have to be feared, but instead, dealt with in the moment. If anger is stuffed, it becomes depression or something equally as difficult to have to live your life with.
Another thing I would change, if I had a do-over. I would try to make you feel so special! Like you three children were the most special three children in the universe! I had no idea how to do that, my darlings, because in the deepest part of my heart I believed I was not really wanted when I was a child. I want you to know you are everything to me, and if I failed to show that in any way, I am so very sorry.
Also, I would listen to you. I would give you my full-on attention. Instead of being impatient with you, telling you to go and play, or being too busy to stop and hear what you had to say. Or getting angry with you when you were only trying to be heard.....
But, I don't get a do-over. I wish I did. I often wonder why it is that the knowledge we need as a young person doesn't arrive until we are older. It doesn't seem fair, somehow. But there it is.
So, my darling first-daughter-about-to-have-her-first-child, listen to my words. And to my second daughter and my only son, heed what I have to say when someday you might have your first child. Because how I long for a do-over......
With love,
Your mother
The Truth About God...according to your mother, that is
Hello, children, this is your mother speaking...
I want to talk to you today about that which is dearest to my heart-my relationship with my Heavenly Father. The family I grew up in was always church going - but my relationship with 'the church', I realize now, many years later, was not a healthy one. In saying that I am not talking about the people. There have been many wonderful church going people in my life. I am talking about the beliefs held by the religion I grew up in. Beliefs that left me feeling a load of guilt for not ever being able to measure up to so called 'Christian Standards'. Beliefs that left me feeling so not ok with who I was. These beliefs did not bring me to God - instead they left me feeling God could never love me because I was so...so...evil. And that is not who God is, my dearest children.
I did not want my children to grow up with this guilt that I carried around. So I admit I was not the best at keeping all of you 'in the church'. I look around me now and wonder if I failed. But my intention was that if you were going to find God, you would find Him on your own terms - not on my terms. And certainly not on the church's terms. Perhaps that was a mistake. But perhaps not.
Who is God to me? Well, the night my own father died, when I was fifteen years old, I prayed to Him. I asked Him to come into my life, and He did. In those years after dad died, I had no one to go to with my questions and concerns - so I went to Him. And He was always there. He never turned His back on me, not once.
Life with Him, though, has not always been easy. There were times in my life when I hated Him, when I stopped believing in Him, when I chose to angrily go my own way. There were times when I believed I knew better than Him, times when there was no way I was going to allow Him to run my life!
I can tell you now, children, with certainty in my heart, and 53 years of life experience behind me. I need Him. And that might sound weak to you. So be it. But we were not meant to live our lives away from God, who created us. And every single time I tried, my life came up empty. So who is He to me? Let me tell you who He's not, first. He's not 'religion'. He's not racism. He's not about ostracizing people who are different. He's not hatred. He's not unforgiving. He's certainly not ethnic cleansing.
Who, then? Who is He, to me, your mother? He is love. Love in all it's most wonderful forms. I know He exists, as clearly as I know I exist and you exist. I know He loves me, even more than I love you, which is fiercely. He is personal. Not some unknown being in the sky who doesn't care. I speak to Him just as I speak to you. And probably as often, too! He is acceptance. No matter where we have been or what we have done, He loves and accepts us for who we are right now. He is peace. He promises a peace that transcends human understanding. I know His peace in my life today. He wants the best for me...and for you. He has a divine plan for my life...and for yours, if you are willing to allow Him to bring it to pass. But He won't ever force that plan on anyone. That's the one thing He gave to us from the very start - free choice.
I know I can count on Him for all things. I know He saved me from myself during my 'dark night'. I am here, now, 'in the light' because of Him. I am pursuing Reiki and I am dedicated to helping those who've once been where I have been - because of Him. He is ALL I need. I love Him. And I trust Him! I trust Him to lead me where I am meant to go. I trust Him to open doors that need to be opened. I know you most probably won't understand these ideas. But I hope that one day, you will.
I'm not asking you, my children, to feel the same. My heart's longing is that you will, each of you, find Him in the way that is most meaningful for you. I realize that you might not believe the way I do, maybe not ever! But I want you to know, from my heart of hearts, how I feel about this mystical, mysterious, marvelous God who created me.......and created you.
He is the only parent I have been able to go to in.........well.........forever. And that leads me to my next topic.....
With love,
Your mother
I want to talk to you today about that which is dearest to my heart-my relationship with my Heavenly Father. The family I grew up in was always church going - but my relationship with 'the church', I realize now, many years later, was not a healthy one. In saying that I am not talking about the people. There have been many wonderful church going people in my life. I am talking about the beliefs held by the religion I grew up in. Beliefs that left me feeling a load of guilt for not ever being able to measure up to so called 'Christian Standards'. Beliefs that left me feeling so not ok with who I was. These beliefs did not bring me to God - instead they left me feeling God could never love me because I was so...so...evil. And that is not who God is, my dearest children.
I did not want my children to grow up with this guilt that I carried around. So I admit I was not the best at keeping all of you 'in the church'. I look around me now and wonder if I failed. But my intention was that if you were going to find God, you would find Him on your own terms - not on my terms. And certainly not on the church's terms. Perhaps that was a mistake. But perhaps not.
Who is God to me? Well, the night my own father died, when I was fifteen years old, I prayed to Him. I asked Him to come into my life, and He did. In those years after dad died, I had no one to go to with my questions and concerns - so I went to Him. And He was always there. He never turned His back on me, not once.
Life with Him, though, has not always been easy. There were times in my life when I hated Him, when I stopped believing in Him, when I chose to angrily go my own way. There were times when I believed I knew better than Him, times when there was no way I was going to allow Him to run my life!
I can tell you now, children, with certainty in my heart, and 53 years of life experience behind me. I need Him. And that might sound weak to you. So be it. But we were not meant to live our lives away from God, who created us. And every single time I tried, my life came up empty. So who is He to me? Let me tell you who He's not, first. He's not 'religion'. He's not racism. He's not about ostracizing people who are different. He's not hatred. He's not unforgiving. He's certainly not ethnic cleansing.
Who, then? Who is He, to me, your mother? He is love. Love in all it's most wonderful forms. I know He exists, as clearly as I know I exist and you exist. I know He loves me, even more than I love you, which is fiercely. He is personal. Not some unknown being in the sky who doesn't care. I speak to Him just as I speak to you. And probably as often, too! He is acceptance. No matter where we have been or what we have done, He loves and accepts us for who we are right now. He is peace. He promises a peace that transcends human understanding. I know His peace in my life today. He wants the best for me...and for you. He has a divine plan for my life...and for yours, if you are willing to allow Him to bring it to pass. But He won't ever force that plan on anyone. That's the one thing He gave to us from the very start - free choice.
I know I can count on Him for all things. I know He saved me from myself during my 'dark night'. I am here, now, 'in the light' because of Him. I am pursuing Reiki and I am dedicated to helping those who've once been where I have been - because of Him. He is ALL I need. I love Him. And I trust Him! I trust Him to lead me where I am meant to go. I trust Him to open doors that need to be opened. I know you most probably won't understand these ideas. But I hope that one day, you will.
I'm not asking you, my children, to feel the same. My heart's longing is that you will, each of you, find Him in the way that is most meaningful for you. I realize that you might not believe the way I do, maybe not ever! But I want you to know, from my heart of hearts, how I feel about this mystical, mysterious, marvelous God who created me.......and created you.
He is the only parent I have been able to go to in.........well.........forever. And that leads me to my next topic.....
With love,
Your mother
Hello children...
This is your mother speaking. For quite awhile now I have wanted to write to you, to tell you about who I really am. I don't think you know, honestly. In fact, not many people know. I have lived most of my life invisibly, so it does not come easy for me to share who I am with anyone, not even you, who are dearest to my heart. Or perhaps I should say especially not you, because you are so close to my heart.
I've always longed for you three to really know me, because I never got to really know my mother before she died. I wish now I could have known her. What were her hopes? Her dreams? What did she long for? Was she happy in the life she and dad chose, a life that included ten children? Sometimes I ask myself, how could she be? But I will never know the answer to that question, at least not in this life...
Even though I think I am not known, I want to be known. I want you to know my heart of hearts. And the first thing I want you to know is that I am happy in my life.
When my mother died, one thing I remember is how my older siblings all called her 'poor mom' and said what a hard life she had had. I've never forgotten that. Was she 'poor mom?' Was she that unhappy in her life? I might never know, but I want you to know......I am happy in my life. It's not been an easy life, no, far from it. I've not lived the high life. My marriage didn't last till 'death do us part'. I've struggled with my health, as you well know. But I have come so, so far. And even though I had to go through a 'dark night 'of the soul', I'm on the other side now. I'm in the light again!
So be happy for me, my darling children. And don't worry that I'm sad. Don't worry that I'm alone. I am glad to say that inside me, there is joy and gratitude. God has been good to me, which brings me to my next post..........stay tuned......
With much love,
Your devoted mother
I've always longed for you three to really know me, because I never got to really know my mother before she died. I wish now I could have known her. What were her hopes? Her dreams? What did she long for? Was she happy in the life she and dad chose, a life that included ten children? Sometimes I ask myself, how could she be? But I will never know the answer to that question, at least not in this life...
Even though I think I am not known, I want to be known. I want you to know my heart of hearts. And the first thing I want you to know is that I am happy in my life.
When my mother died, one thing I remember is how my older siblings all called her 'poor mom' and said what a hard life she had had. I've never forgotten that. Was she 'poor mom?' Was she that unhappy in her life? I might never know, but I want you to know......I am happy in my life. It's not been an easy life, no, far from it. I've not lived the high life. My marriage didn't last till 'death do us part'. I've struggled with my health, as you well know. But I have come so, so far. And even though I had to go through a 'dark night 'of the soul', I'm on the other side now. I'm in the light again!
So be happy for me, my darling children. And don't worry that I'm sad. Don't worry that I'm alone. I am glad to say that inside me, there is joy and gratitude. God has been good to me, which brings me to my next post..........stay tuned......
With much love,
Your devoted mother
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