Nice and Cute

Those that don't know me will immediately read this as a boast post...know me better.

Coined 'nice' and 'cute' my entire life, I've been quite content to float along on those accolades. There's certainly nothing terrible about being 'nice' and 'cute'....But, this past year I've felt that more is required. Those two adjectives simply no longer satisfy. Often content to let others do the digging, consider the decisions, make a difference. Letting hours go without telling my children I love them because I'm making dinner or mindlessly busying myself. Speaking vanilla words of the weather when there's so much more to unearth. After church recently, I drifted right by a woman sitting alone, looking so very sad, drained. That still, small voice encouraged me to speak, share that million dollar smile. I didn't. Worried I'd delay the family, I continued on my path. Deciding instead, I had no time to check on her. It affected me all day long. Still does.

Walking around with such power potential, but motoring in neutral. Skating along, giving only a fraction of my full jets in every aspect of my life. Power to change lives, to speak truth, to simply share a smile, but choosing often to lay low and play it safe instead. What a terrible and overwhelming waste. Often considering what others would say at my funeral, I can imagine 'cute' and 'nice' scattered often. What I desire instead is 'life-changing', 'inspiring', 'her smile could brighten the room', 'she gave all', 'she made me feel worthy, beautiful'.

Confident there is grand potential to do such extraordinary things...tapping into that power on a daily basis is the tricky part....one that requires great renewal of the mind. So often I hear my own belittling mind chatter 'you aren't good enough', 'you aren't smart enough'...releasing is difficult. Craving chatter that is empowering and guiding over the stifling and restraining. Quieting that inner monster takes great strength. So I pray. Pray for strength, insight, wisdom. Pray for powerful words to sink soul deep for the changing of lives. Pray for sweet connections.

A year-long change has occurred...a shifting into overdrive. No longer settling into 'nice' and cute', but instead, harnessing them for greater good. Sharing a smile, attentively attuned to moments of encouragement, asking hard questions...for my family, for others. No longer satisfied to rest. No longer passing the sad woman on the bench. The creating of a happier world, first starting from within, then expanding to my family, my community. I can no longer sit idle hiding my light under a basket. So that at the end of my days, I'll hear 'well done...you used what I gave and multiplied. You never hid it from the world, instead you shared and inspired others to do the same'. Well done.

 

A Different Christmas

It just doesn't feel like Christmas yet...only three days away, most of the gifts are wrapped, the tree is up, the weather is unseasonably warm. Feeling like I should be more sad, heavy with deep remembrance. But I'm not. I'm content. Feet moving forward to satisfy the checklist, taking time to breathe and savor in between. I can only imagine it's a God-Thing....loads of prayer keep me from staying in bed all day long. Keeping my eyes heavenward keeps me from crying. Writing lets the truth bubble to the surface. Not saying I haven't had my moments, but 80% of the time I'm doing just fine. Thankful for friends that check in to see if I'm still breathing, I can almost predict those that will check in on Dec 25 and Jan 2. Two of the hardest days still to come. Moving forward with curious anticipation. Boarding an airplane to spend the holidays with dear friends...finally still and deep conversations expected, a few tears may spill. But in this moment, I'm content. Feeling like she was rescued and I'm truly overjoyed that she's no longer suffering...on so many levels. She's in the safest place of all. How can I be sad? I do miss hearing her soft voice always seeing the shiny side of things. I do miss her velvety soft hands in mine. I do miss snuggling up beside her in bed, each of us silently browsing the latest Women's Day magazines. I even miss her loud snores and that strange gurgling sound her belly made when she laid on her left side.

She raised me well...the best she could with the resources available. Now I'm making my own Christmas memories...mother-child memories. Recreating that silent snuggle with Maya as we browse thru our phones...her showing me the funniest videos and playing the most elusive tunes. Cole reaches over a squeezes my hand much more now... I love his adult sized hand in mine. Oftentimes, I'll slide up and check his pulse like Mom did when I was little...just to make sure all is well.

This Christmas indeed will be very different...but today, in this moment, different is very, very good.

 

 

Answered Prayers

This week, my nose has been buried in a book titled 'A Better Way to Pray' I snagged recently in efforts to better understand prayer, it's power, and how I can begin to fathom this mysterious and supernatural gift that we're all equipped with...feeling like I have a lightsaber but I use it like a can opener.

As the chapters progressed, however, I was feeling convicted with regard to Mom's illness...if I had just prayed more precisely, if I had commanded the Cancer to leave, if I had more faith. But, like a good father, he answered my sad heart in such a tender way...he offered me a flashback:

When Mom became very ill well after a 15 year battle, well after all of her immediate family had already passed, well after years of injections, biopsies, toxins, and a bevy of symptoms. I spoke to God for healing and clearly heard, “hasn't she suffered enough?”. This world isn't Heaven but she surely made the best of what she was given. I shifted my prayers quickly to remove pain...please Lord, don't let her suffer. Please Lord, let her go without fear. Please Lord, don't let her feel pain.  In that moment, I realized my prayers were clearly and lovingly answered. She left quietly, without fear, and without pain. I'm thankful for that. It wasn't that He couldn't rid her of her Cancer, it wasn't that I didn't pray correctly or didn't have enough faith. It wasn't that my Mom didn't have enough faith....God answered that she was ready to go home and gently ushered her upward. He answered both of our prayers at once.

This tingling return of old-Lisa has brought guilt, too...guilt that I am forgetting Mom, worry that I'm forgetting to live like her and letting her death mean nothing. How silly I am... how quickly I return to sorrow and ashes when I should be remembering how faithful He was over her....over me. I am one lucky girl to have had the honor of speaking to her of her beautiful abode in Heaven...that she'd soon see him face to face....that she'll finally be rewarded for all the unappreciated things she did. How silly I am. The returning to Me doesn't have to mean forgetting Mom and all the lessons I learned thru her passing. Those lessons are bone deep...thankful for the gentle reminder this week of how faithful He was and continues to be. I'll keep praying and trying to learn how to better use my lightsaber.