Grace on a Thursday

Every year right about this time I think of my grandmother Rouse who used to make Thanksgiving such a special day. The following is a story I wrote a few years ago about her last Thanksgiving with us. May God bless each of you this year. Happy Thanksgiving

Grace on a Thursday

                                                           

            When we feel unlovely we want to hide because we can’t imagine anyone could love us in those moments.  Let’s face it - we all have those moments, and that’s usually when God speaks the loudest.

            My Grammie was one of the loveliest women I have ever known, but one Thanksgiving she didn’t think so. Our tradition was to dress up in our Sunday best, dine at two and go to the movies. We all knew with Grammie being sick there would be no movie this year. Released from the hospital two days earlier, we were just happy she could be with us for the holiday. But now another storm was brewing.

            “Mom!”  My sister ran into the kitchen. “Grammie says she’s not coming to dinner. She says she doesn’t have anything to wear, her hair isn’t done and she is not about to come to dinner in her pajamas and robe.” Laura’s green eyes pleaded with Mom. “What are we going to do? We can’t leave her in her room all alone…not on Thanksgiving.” Nervous knots formed in my belly as I wondered what would happen.

            A few days earlier I had taken a trip to the hospital. My mind hadn’t comprehended the seriousness of Grammie’s condition until I stood in the doorway of her room and was struck by her frailty. I paused for a moment taking in the image of my sweet Grammie lying in that hospital bed looking like a small child. Without the benefit of going to the salon, her normally jet black hair had turned gray. Her milky white complexion had grown sallow and pale. Broken blood vessels from her IV etched the skin of her once smooth hand.

            The contrast to her usual self was startling.  Throughout my childhood, Grammie had come over for dinner on a Thursday after her weekly hair and nail appointment. Smelling of Estee Lauder perfume, she would sink into the sofa and beckon to me with her beautiful hands. I loved sitting next to her, and my heart would sing at the invitation to be near her. I breathed her in while listening to her soft, gentle voice tell me about the events of her day, and then she would ask me about mine. Her hands stroked my back or played with my hair.  She made me feel safe and loved.  But in the past few years the allure of college and my social life had kept me from spending Thursdays with her.  And now she was in the hospital.

            I moved closer to her hospital bed and picked up her IV pierced hand. She smiled at me and asked me about my day. It felt just like our old Thursday afternoons, only we were conversing over the starched white sheets of her hospital bed, with the scent of antiseptic lingering in the air. She couldn’t reach out and stroke my back anymore, but I could curl up beside her and stroke her hair and smell her sweet perfume. Even in the hospital she still smelled like flowers. I cradled her hand in mine while her words curled around my heart.  She loved me unconditionally and in that moment I saw Jesus.  Like Christ, she gave to me even though I hadn’t made her a priority over the past few years.

            The hospital released her for Thanksgiving and as the scent of roasting turkey and pumpkin pie filled the air, my sister and I watched our mother, wondering what to do.  Mom told us not to worry while she placed an apple pie into the oven. I could see her shoulders quietly shake as she tried to hide her emotion from us.

            “Mom, what if I fix her hair and put a little makeup on her,” Laura said. “I think that might help her feel better.”

            “Yes, I think that’s a great idea, but let’s do more than that.” She stirred the gravy and then a smile broke through the clouds that had covered her face. “I know…let’s wear our bathrobes to the table. We can surprise her!” Pausing for a moment to let the idea sink in she continued, “We can wear our normal clothes underneath and each of us can come to the table in our robes. That way she will know that she fits right in. What do you think?” Her face shone with excitement, and I knew we had our answer.

            Laura nodded her head in agreement. “I’ll go tell her that we aren’t taking no for an answer and insist that she let me fix her hair. Even though we all think she’s beautiful without being fixed up, knowing Grammie there isn’t going to be any other way to convince her.”

            We thought we would surprise her so we didn’t tell Grammie of our plan.  After a “We’re not taking no for an answer” conversation with my mother, Grammie finally let my sister Laura fix her hair and apply a little color to her cheeks.

            I will never forget how excited I felt when I stood next to my chair at the dining room table. I looked around the table at my family. We were attired in our Sunday best, our bathrobes draped over our shoulders. My little brother even had on his slippers and was grinning from ear to ear. We barely contained ourselves with the excitement of our secret and hoped that Grammie would feel a part of our family as she had on so many other Thursday afternoons.

            Dad wheeled her into the dining room, her normally robust frame wilting in the wheelchair. We stood quietly at the table until she looked up. When she did, we shouted “Surprise!” Her face went from pale gray to a soft blush, and a giant smile engulfed her face. She giggled my favorite giggle and for a moment she was my joyful, adoring Grammie again.

             Tears of relief rolled down my cheeks, she was with us again, and we were all overjoyed. Conversation bubbled across the table as we shared our Thanksgiving meal. I believe we were all thankful that our family was complete. It would not have been the same without our Grammie.

            Grammie died two days later. For her funeral we dressed once again in our Sunday best. I wished we could have worn our robes again. It seemed appropriate that in one of her final moments here on earth Grammie was more beautiful to me than ever, without the earthly adornments of hair color and makeup. Grace is God’s way of pouring out His love upon us regardless of our clothing, whether we feel lovely or not. To Him we are always lovely, a fragrant aroma and a blessing. He accepts us, offers us grace when we don’t deserve it and puts on our humanity out of love, every single day of the week.

A Year in Transition

A Year in Transition

A little over one year ago my family and I moved from our home in San Antonio to a suburb of Dallas called Rockwall. Just a quick five hour drive north on I-35 and we find ourselves at home in the country, near cows and lots and lots of country critters. It has been an adjustment for all of us, and has presented us each with our own set of challenges but, we are finding our way. In fact, it’s more than that, this move is a gift.

Don’t get me wrong, we loved living in San Antonio, loved our friends, our church, our home and Zach and Kayla enjoyed their school and sports activities. And yet, there was an itch, for lack of a better description, a pull towards something but I couldn’t put my finger on it, except to just ask God to help each one of us to be open. After everything we had been through with Grant’s illness and his recovery, it made sense to me that we had entered a season of renewal, but it hadn’t occurred to me that this would include a move.

We found out we were moving the end of April 2011. We took a few weeks to put our house in order, which included painting, purging, lots of yard work and yes much prayer.

We sold our house in one day. One day…ONE DAY! My head still spins thinking about it. We had one showing, and one offer. And here’s the kicker, we had one week to find a house here in Rockwall, and the one we now call home we found on the very last day of looking and the price was perfect!

We had a 30 day close, which meant that from the time we put the sign in the yard to the day we left San Antonio only four short weeks had passed. Enough time to pack, have a yard sale, say quick goodbyes to friends and try our hardest to help Zach and Kayla to see this as an adventure, which it most definitely has been.

Over the course of the summer and into the school months last fall I watched our new life unfold. I decided to take the year off from writing and found myself immersed in making our hew house a home. I volunteered on the PTA board again and started taking tennis lessons. We found a great church and slowly began making friends. Zach started club soccer and Kayla swimming, and they both tell me weekly that they love it here. That this feels like a little piece of heaven, and they are happy.

Now, fifteen months later I can look back and see how this was our year in transition. A year of in between, a year to establish ourselves in a new place that goes right along with our season of renewal. This move is so much more than just about geography. It’s about a new life for Grant as he is healthy and thriving. A new life for me as a mom, wife, writer and life coach (and tennis playerJ). And a new life for Zach and Kayla who never cease to amaze me with their firm grasp on the things that are most important.

 I find myself dusting off my manuscript, and am actively seeking new coaching clients. I’m excited to be here and look forward to seeing what comes next. You can be sure that I’m staying open, the adventure is just beginning.

Just my Dog and Me

He sleeps on his bed in the corner of our room. A silent presence, watching. The slightest movement and his head raises. He finds my blanket covered form and he waits. I peek from beneath my sheets, wondering how many times I need shuffle my feet, before he will be at my side. Was not feet shuffling this morning, but the simple drop of my arm that beckoned him. 

Nuzzling my hand, begging for love, he turns in endless circles reaching for me, to rub the side of his face, his ear, his back. He licks my face, an invitation.

The coffee drips as he gobbles his food, and then he presses his nose to the glass in my kitchen door. The click of the deadbolt turning in the lock, pricks his ears and his tail bangs against my leg as I try to open the door before his wiggling frame. 

 

Sauntering out he leaps over rocks and grass before remembering me. A simple nod and he's off, bounding across the damp morning grass, chasing the birds and smelling the morning smells. Free, he shouts with every leap! Free, with every sniff and scamper!

Free! Free! Free! 

Settling onto the sofa, I curl my legs beneath me and sip. The sun casts a golden glow across the pillows and my heart is full. 

 

I hear him before I see. He bounds around the corner of the house, nudges the edge of my foot and then settles, sides heaving, tongue hanging. 

 

Just my Dog and Me.

YOU ARE SIGNIFICANT

“By virtue of your very existence, you are significant."

On a really good day it’s easy to focus on the things I like about myself. It’s easy to feel like God really knew what He was doing when He created me. Especially when it’s a good hair day, no one has thrown up on me, and my outfit is cute. Those are the kinds of days that I want to say to my clients, “Somebody take my picture cuz I’m looking good.”

But we all know those days can be few and far between, especially given the season of life that motherhood brings. Most of the time it’s easier to focus on the dislikes and the things we are ashamed of; in fact, I’ve been known to have my own private pity party, and I’m not embarrassed to admit that since I’m pretty sure that you can relate.
We sometimes tell ourselves that we aren’t good enough, worthy enough, valuable enough, pretty enough, smart enough…need I go on? We wonder secretly to ourselves, “Is this all there is? Isn’t there supposed to be something more to my life?” I titled this article “Be who You Already Are” because deep inside of each one of us, we are all wondering if we really have what it takes…and are hoping to discover some magical answer to the question. But the truth is, you are already equipped with your own set of values, central beliefs, and life purpose. It’s just a matter of letting God reveal the truth and trusting Him with the results.
A few years ago I made this note to myself; it’s a good reminder for me when I feel like the world is closing in…

Be who you already are.
Stop striving, perfecting, adjusting, adapting, collapsing, hiding, fearing,
worrying, wondering, and compromising…and just be who you already are.

You may be already thinking, But who am I? I have no idea. Or, How in the world am I supposed to be who I already am when the whole world tells me I’m not good enough? Start with remembering who God is to you, how He has worked in your life, and then hold on tight to that little glimmer of light that represents the “you” you were before society, your family, and yes…before you told yourself to be someone different.

Early in my marriage I used to wonder how long it would take Grant to change his mind and leave me for someone else. I pretended to be more than I was, trying to fill the shoes that everyone else set before me. I performed and perfected my act and became someone I hardly recognized. I lost myself, not unlike many other women who have struggled with their own identity and the shame they carry from past abuse or other traumas. I lived like that for twelve years, wondering what my purpose was and questioned my reason for existing.
But all that time of questioning and wondering I felt a deep prodding in my heart. I knew the Bible, and I believed that God loved me and had a plan and purpose for my life. But I didn’t understand how I could get past my shame and really be who it seemed like He wanted me to be. I did Bible studies and led small groups and knew in my heart over the course of time that the more I sought God, the more I understood who He meant for me to be.
He was calling me out of the shadows, whispering to me almost every day how much He loved me and how He could use my sadness for His good, to encourage and support others. He helped me see the truth through all the study and counseling that I did. I was significant to Him, and He had bestowed upon me my own set of unique talents and strengths, my own set of values that no one could ever take away from me.
Regardless of our situation, each one of us has a unique design that God has given to us. You know there is no one else like you on the face of the earth. You are unique in God’s eyes. No matter what anyone else has ever said or done to you, nothing can change the core of who you were created to be. Circumstance can try…and traumatic events may seem to prevail…but beneath all of that outside stuff, you are still you: the person that God created in your mother’s womb, whom He still loves and cherishes and gave His life for.

By virtue of your very existence, you are significant.
Now, think about your daily life. All the different hats you wear, the people you come in contact with. Your family, your friends, your clients, your Facebook friends…this is your sphere of influence. And somehow every time you interact with them, you are influencing them. Therefore, you are a person of influence.
Remember how your life is built on values, the building blocks of your life, and that, by virtue of your own existence, you are significant? Apply all those ideas to your circle of influence and realize that God has placed you right where you are for His specific purpose. The people that are in your life have been put there for a reason. How do you want to influence them?
As God’s creation, you are pleasing to Him, and He takes great delight in you. Like any father, He desires to prosper you, to see you grow, and to light the way for you. He made you because He wanted a relationship with you, giving you your own characteristics and personality; there is no one else like you.
What better way to honor God—than to cast aside the voices that say we have to strive to be someone we are not. Instead, answer the call that has been placed on your heart and dive into this realm of exploration and discovery. Stretch yourself as new truths are revealed and get excited about the amazing transformation that comes as you shed false living and move into a brand new authentic way of life, being who you already are.