LET GO FAITH
My parents named me Donna Faye. My Mother shared with me time and time again how she decided to call me Donna. She was awakened in the middle of the night with a jolt and heard the name Donna. My Dad chose Faye. It’s comforting to me to know that my name means Lady (of) Faith.
We’re told to have faith in God, in each other, and in ourselves. But, are we ever told it’s ok not to have enough faith? I had never experienced how not having enough faith could be in my best until it happened for me.
The financial pressure had eased. My youngest child, Kristin, had graduated from high school and was headed to college. The other two kids were working and paying their own way. My job had grown monotonous. The fact is, I didn’t want to work.
My husband who can logically think about what is happening gave me advice I had never heard before. The conversation went like this:
“Jim, I’m tired of getting up every day and going to work. But, I feel like I can’t quit.”
“Then don’t. If it was meant for you to quit the assurance to stop would be there. If it’s not there, then don’t quit.”
The entire spring and summer I pushed my self to make my way to the desk that had been my workplace for 11 years.
When August rolled around Kristin packed her car and headed off to college. That Thursday morning I stood on the front porch and waved goodbye as she headed off to Texas to further her education.
The next Tuesday morning a memo circulated in the office. The company had been acquired and I was informed my job would be eliminated.
The company offered a severance package. I received 16 weeks of full pay and 6 months of unemployment. Thanks to government funding and my circumstances I was offered the opportunity to go back to college. I was female, over 40, had two dependents who were full time college students, and my job had been eliminated.
Had I quit the job I would’ve missed out on the college experience and degree.
I have since coined the phrase “let go faith.” It’s part of life and its changes. I try to practice let go faith as midnight approaches. I know the day is gone, but a new one is about to make its entrance. The day ahead might be similar, better, or worse, but the day before is gone.
There are days I wish I could have again, but there are days that I ‘m glad are gone and never to return.
Enjoy each day as if it were your last. Know that He who is in control of our days knew what He was doing when He made time just and believe in a let go faith.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Advice
Advice
I have learned a few things in my days of traveling upon life’s highway. I wish I could say I don’t have regret, but that isn’t a true statement. There are times when I have asked for advice when my understanding of present circumstances were beyond my ability to make heads or tails of what was taking place. What will frustrate my sanity is when my brain is in working order, I understand the reason(s) for the present issue and all those who within calling distance are determined to tell me how to survive or how to make the road I have to travel a perfect lane.
I have taught myself the ability to accept both kinds of information with a smile and a promise to myself that I will remember not to forward any gesture of information unless asked.
I have shared my opinion a few times. Did the recipient of my advice want to hear what I had to say? I’m not sure. I hope so. Several have told me, “Thanks, Donna. Your advice helped me get the rough spots in dealing with day to day life.
That’s why I am writing my take on advice. I made it through the rough times with words of wisdom I consider to be sent from God.
Today as you read my collection of words I hope you heed what I have to say. Use it to get you through hard times.
I have learned a few things in my days of traveling upon life’s highway. I wish I could say I don’t have regret, but that isn’t a true statement. There are times when I have asked for advice when my understanding of present circumstances were beyond my ability to make heads or tails of what was taking place. What will frustrate my sanity is when my brain is in working order, I understand the reason(s) for the present issue and all those who within calling distance are determined to tell me how to survive or how to make the road I have to travel a perfect lane.
I have taught myself the ability to accept both kinds of information with a smile and a promise to myself that I will remember not to forward any gesture of information unless asked.
I have shared my opinion a few times. Did the recipient of my advice want to hear what I had to say? I’m not sure. I hope so. Several have told me, “Thanks, Donna. Your advice helped me get the rough spots in dealing with day to day life.
That’s why I am writing my take on advice. I made it through the rough times with words of wisdom I consider to be sent from God.
Today as you read my collection of words I hope you heed what I have to say. Use it to get you through hard times.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Kevin Costner in the Bodygaurd Lookalike Haircut
Ben doesn’t say much, and when he does speak it is a reflection of his warped sense of humor.
The one feature that will spark comments is his hair. It’s a beautiful shade of dark auburn that can’t be mixed in a bottle. When he was a toddler I didn’t cut it short. I couldn’t understand looking at beautiful curls laying on the floor when they looked so good on his head.
He didn’t have any hair until he passed birthday number two. The front of his hair wasn’t cut until he was in kindergarten. Now he has more hair than his two siblings put together.
It was during his first year as a teenager he came to me on a hot, humid summer day and asked, “Mom, can we cut my curls off. They’re too hot.”. I knew then it was time to let him decide how he wanted his hair.
With my trusty shears and clippers I snipped and buzzed until he looked like a young man ready to face the world.
The change in his appearance drew a favorable response. He decided to keep it short, not because everybody like it, but because of the convenience of not having to comb it.
It was a week before I was scheduled to have foot surgery. I was diligently working to have all things I order. Cutting everyone’s hair was a priority. Momma’s intention was to stand as little as possible during the recovery of my left foot’s excision. As I stated before, Ben has lots of hair. With the old clippers I would buzz the back of Ben’s head twice in order to have the hair the right length. When I buzzed the back with the new clippers I discovered I didn’t need to do it again.
Once was more than adequate and I had taken of way too much hair.
I tried to match the sides with the back and top. To my surprise Ben was shorn almost to skin.
“Mom,” what did you to do him?” That was Josh’s reaction.
“Mom, he’s as sensitive about his looks as we are.” That came from Kristin’s observation of her now buzzed brother.
Tears began to stream down my cheeks. I was afraid I was going to be hated by the entire household. The reason being a set of hair clippers that were sharp.
“It looks stupid.” This was his reaction at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. As he rubbed his head he ran from the bathroom to his bedroom. KABOOM was the next sound we heard. He had kicked his door open instead of the preferred method of turning the doorknob. He jumped in his bed and covered his head.
I was distraught. “Ben, Momma is so sorry. Please forgive me. I wouldn’t do anything in this world to hurt you.
Ben’s choice of “game” is football. His position on the High School Football team was wide receiver.
The next morning when it came time to go to school, he didn’t want to go. I didn’t have the heart to make him go. I was the reason for the drastic change in his appearance. I knew it would be the focus of everyone’s conversation.
In my mind I could visualize, “Ben, who did that to you?”
Ben with his disgruntled voice would say, “My Mom.”
Again the I would hear. “Is she supposed to know how to cut hair?
“She’s supposed to do.”
When the next day arrived Ben jumped out of bed, got dressed and made his way to the bus stop.
This was the day of the last football game of the season.
As I walked in the door after working all day, I arrived home to find Ben grinning from ear to ear.
“Mom, all the football players rubbed my head for good. They told me I look like Kevin Costner in the “Bodyguard.”
That made it ok. His peers thought it was cool and the team won their football game.
Ben’s curls are still gone. He keeps his hair short. Again he keeps it short for convenience and to conform to Uncle Sam’s requirements for the military.
I now wonder if Kevin Costner will ever know what an impact he had on a young man because of a pair of hair clippers that were sharp.
The one feature that will spark comments is his hair. It’s a beautiful shade of dark auburn that can’t be mixed in a bottle. When he was a toddler I didn’t cut it short. I couldn’t understand looking at beautiful curls laying on the floor when they looked so good on his head.
He didn’t have any hair until he passed birthday number two. The front of his hair wasn’t cut until he was in kindergarten. Now he has more hair than his two siblings put together.
It was during his first year as a teenager he came to me on a hot, humid summer day and asked, “Mom, can we cut my curls off. They’re too hot.”. I knew then it was time to let him decide how he wanted his hair.
With my trusty shears and clippers I snipped and buzzed until he looked like a young man ready to face the world.
The change in his appearance drew a favorable response. He decided to keep it short, not because everybody like it, but because of the convenience of not having to comb it.
It was a week before I was scheduled to have foot surgery. I was diligently working to have all things I order. Cutting everyone’s hair was a priority. Momma’s intention was to stand as little as possible during the recovery of my left foot’s excision. As I stated before, Ben has lots of hair. With the old clippers I would buzz the back of Ben’s head twice in order to have the hair the right length. When I buzzed the back with the new clippers I discovered I didn’t need to do it again.
Once was more than adequate and I had taken of way too much hair.
I tried to match the sides with the back and top. To my surprise Ben was shorn almost to skin.
“Mom,” what did you to do him?” That was Josh’s reaction.
“Mom, he’s as sensitive about his looks as we are.” That came from Kristin’s observation of her now buzzed brother.
Tears began to stream down my cheeks. I was afraid I was going to be hated by the entire household. The reason being a set of hair clippers that were sharp.
“It looks stupid.” This was his reaction at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. As he rubbed his head he ran from the bathroom to his bedroom. KABOOM was the next sound we heard. He had kicked his door open instead of the preferred method of turning the doorknob. He jumped in his bed and covered his head.
I was distraught. “Ben, Momma is so sorry. Please forgive me. I wouldn’t do anything in this world to hurt you.
Ben’s choice of “game” is football. His position on the High School Football team was wide receiver.
The next morning when it came time to go to school, he didn’t want to go. I didn’t have the heart to make him go. I was the reason for the drastic change in his appearance. I knew it would be the focus of everyone’s conversation.
In my mind I could visualize, “Ben, who did that to you?”
Ben with his disgruntled voice would say, “My Mom.”
Again the I would hear. “Is she supposed to know how to cut hair?
“She’s supposed to do.”
When the next day arrived Ben jumped out of bed, got dressed and made his way to the bus stop.
This was the day of the last football game of the season.
As I walked in the door after working all day, I arrived home to find Ben grinning from ear to ear.
“Mom, all the football players rubbed my head for good. They told me I look like Kevin Costner in the “Bodyguard.”
That made it ok. His peers thought it was cool and the team won their football game.
Ben’s curls are still gone. He keeps his hair short. Again he keeps it short for convenience and to conform to Uncle Sam’s requirements for the military.
I now wonder if Kevin Costner will ever know what an impact he had on a young man because of a pair of hair clippers that were sharp.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
50% Off Clearance Price
Shopping, it is a more than a necessary evil these days. Along with purchasing the necessary items needed to be fed, clothed, and warm, it is a hobby enjoyed by the vast majority of the population.
Modern day retailers are more than willing to make our shopping trips a pleasant experience. At the same time the retailers will take that hard earned money and reinvest in advertising campaigns to get you to come back and shop again.
One of the challenges for the seasoned shopper is to find a bargain. The less money paid for an expensive item, the better the satisfaction. I have found myself going straight to the sale rack when I entered a store, not even stopping to look at the items that were full price.
“Isn’t this gorgeous?”, we will show the bargain as if it is a trophy. “I found this on the sale rack. It was marked down to 50% off the lowest price.” It’s as if the bargain is a trophy. The less we spend, the more we like it.
But do we do the same thing with the things of God? Do we look at what He has to offer and then decide to take what doesn’t cost as much?
Do we go shopping for relationships, but instead of looking for one that costs time, prayer, and maybe some heartache, we go straight to the one who won’t cost near as much.
The great thing about God is we don’t have to worry about going to the sale rack. Jesus has already paid the price for our salvation, our peace, and our redemption.
When it comes to His joy, His strength, His grace, His mercy, and His love, we don’t have to go to the clearance rack. The items are bought and paid.
You are precious in the sight of God and your redemption has been paid.
Don’t bargain shop when it comes to God.
Modern day retailers are more than willing to make our shopping trips a pleasant experience. At the same time the retailers will take that hard earned money and reinvest in advertising campaigns to get you to come back and shop again.
One of the challenges for the seasoned shopper is to find a bargain. The less money paid for an expensive item, the better the satisfaction. I have found myself going straight to the sale rack when I entered a store, not even stopping to look at the items that were full price.
“Isn’t this gorgeous?”, we will show the bargain as if it is a trophy. “I found this on the sale rack. It was marked down to 50% off the lowest price.” It’s as if the bargain is a trophy. The less we spend, the more we like it.
But do we do the same thing with the things of God? Do we look at what He has to offer and then decide to take what doesn’t cost as much?
Do we go shopping for relationships, but instead of looking for one that costs time, prayer, and maybe some heartache, we go straight to the one who won’t cost near as much.
The great thing about God is we don’t have to worry about going to the sale rack. Jesus has already paid the price for our salvation, our peace, and our redemption.
When it comes to His joy, His strength, His grace, His mercy, and His love, we don’t have to go to the clearance rack. The items are bought and paid.
You are precious in the sight of God and your redemption has been paid.
Don’t bargain shop when it comes to God.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
The Ziplock Bag
The rain kept coming and coming that morning. When we opened the basement door and looked down the steps water rising and making its way up the steps. We knew it could mean disaster. It's possible you saw Northern OH on CNN. People were being rescued from their roof tops. Shelby is the one that made the national headlines. We are several miles from Shelby, but the rain didn't care. Water will go to the lowest level.
We lost a wall in the basement. It was a supporting wall that gave way when with the heaviness of the flood waters. In fact, the FEMA inspector looked at us and said, "The Lord is the one who is holding up this house." We had a great time talking to him about the goodness of the Lord.
I had a lot of stuff in the basement. Most of it was just stuff, but I had started to store my quilting stash in bins. Then I remembered I had put the pieces of my Grandmother's homemade quilt in one of the storage bins. I was heart sick. Even though it was remnants of the quilt, it was part of a legacy. My Great grandmother had pieced the pieces together, my grandmother had put the blocks together and made a quilt. Through the years it had started to show wear and had torn in places. I decided to do away with the torn places and keep the parts that were good.
Everything in the basement was taken outside. Most of it had to be disposed. As I was going through the ruined stuff I located the quilt remnants. I had placed them in a zip lock bag. The outside of the bag was covered with caked mud, but the bag had protected the quilt. The water had not touched the inside of the bag. I was so tickled. Using my mind I pictured the bag floating on top of the flood waters. It was then I realized that we also have the protection of the Lord. He has us in a ziplock bag. Even though everything around us is crashing and flood waters are pouring in, we are safe. There might be some caked on mud on the outside, but inside we are fine.
It was then I remembered Psalm 91
He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, "He is my refuge and my fortress, my god, in who I trust."
If you make the Most High your dwelling even the Lord, who is my refuge--then no harm will befall you , no disaster will come near.
We lost a wall in the basement. It was a supporting wall that gave way when with the heaviness of the flood waters. In fact, the FEMA inspector looked at us and said, "The Lord is the one who is holding up this house." We had a great time talking to him about the goodness of the Lord.
I had a lot of stuff in the basement. Most of it was just stuff, but I had started to store my quilting stash in bins. Then I remembered I had put the pieces of my Grandmother's homemade quilt in one of the storage bins. I was heart sick. Even though it was remnants of the quilt, it was part of a legacy. My Great grandmother had pieced the pieces together, my grandmother had put the blocks together and made a quilt. Through the years it had started to show wear and had torn in places. I decided to do away with the torn places and keep the parts that were good.
Everything in the basement was taken outside. Most of it had to be disposed. As I was going through the ruined stuff I located the quilt remnants. I had placed them in a zip lock bag. The outside of the bag was covered with caked mud, but the bag had protected the quilt. The water had not touched the inside of the bag. I was so tickled. Using my mind I pictured the bag floating on top of the flood waters. It was then I realized that we also have the protection of the Lord. He has us in a ziplock bag. Even though everything around us is crashing and flood waters are pouring in, we are safe. There might be some caked on mud on the outside, but inside we are fine.
It was then I remembered Psalm 91
He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, "He is my refuge and my fortress, my god, in who I trust."
If you make the Most High your dwelling even the Lord, who is my refuge--then no harm will befall you , no disaster will come near.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Kristin, aged 4
She was and is a delight. Her blonde hair glistened in the sun. Her blue eyes sparkled like diamonds. In this picture she is four. That was several years ago. Her eyes still sparkle, we're not sure about her natural hair color, she likes to experiment with different shades and hues. I'm so proud of what she has accomplished.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Just Wait
Just wait.. Just wait....
I have often wondered if that is what it means to be Mommie?
When my children were 3, 1 1/2, and a newborn, I was astonished to how busy my days would be. Getting through the day, keeping diapers changed, the dishes washed, and supper on the table was a major accomplishment.
Undoubtedly, another mom whose children had passed the current ages of my children would comment, “You think you are busy now. Just wait until all three are walking. You find yourself going trying to go in three different directions at the same time.”
As time went on and the youngest was walking; I reached a major milestone. I learned how to juggle the three babies, housework, laundry, and pastoring at the same time.
Again... I heard.....
You think you are busy now. Just wait.....
You don’t know busy until they go to school, and you are trying to juggle homework, teacher conferences, band practice, football practice, and PTA meetings.
We made it through the days of music lessons, Christmas programs, spelling tests, and grade cards; still intact as a family.
Again... I heard....
Just wait... When the kids are teenagers you’ll have to put up with three times as much mess and teenagers’ attitude can cut to the bone.
Well, the mess would get to me at times, but we choose to be busy and on the go. I discovered the “attitude” is often frustration. Choices need to be made, confusion sets in, and frustration is evident in the attitude.
As of today my crew is 32, 30, and 29, and I’m still waiting.....
Waiting for each one to find the perfect will of God in their own heart. Waiting for the right mate to be their choice of companion. Waiting for the changes that happen as your children mature into confident, caring individuals.
When time shall be no more, like the old song says; will the waiting be over?
Can we enjoy what is happening right then, or will we hear, “You just wait! You think it is glorious now, just give it a few years and we’ll having a great time.”
I want God to show me how to enjoy each day to the fullest, remember yesterday with tenderness, and anticipate the future with confidence and faith.
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