18 Days...But Who's Counting?

"Tomorrow was a lifetime away, now suddenly it's here.

How did it happen so quickly? This wedding drawing near.

How can I act so happy? How can I act so gay?

When in such a very short time, I'll give my daughter away.

I wish I could grasp a moment, and make the clock stand still

So I could let my heart catch up, but I know it never will.

All the worries of being a parent, all the battles won,

No one ever warned me about the day the job is done.

Yet, there is another side, where my heart is not as sad.

When I look in my daughter's eyes, I can't help but be joyful and glad.

This day she has dreamt about, for just about all her life.

She's going to be such a beautiful bride and a loving, caring wife.

I'll stand with the congregation as my daughter walks down the aisle

And even though there are tears in my eyes, my face will bear a smile.

For I know that I was very blessed when God lent this child to me,

To love and care for and nurture, so she would grow up to be

This lovely, bright young woman, who tomorrow will be a bride;

And as always I will be there, with love, at my daughter's side." ~~Linda Jo

Okay...so the wedding is still about three weeks out. And there is much to do. Still...there's time. I found this poem online on a fluke, and I was touched by it's simplicity. Then, I realized, I could have written it myself.

You know the wedding is not about the Groom (sorry, Prince Charming), or the Bridesmaids. It's not about the flowers or the food or the dancing. And it's not about the Mom. It's about the Bride. And it's about her Dad. Seriously. You do not hear the words "oh, this is going to be so difficult for her Mom...letting her go." You hear that about her Dad. How when it's his cue to "give" her to her intended, he clutches her arm a little tighter and then releases her ever so reluctantly. How hard it is on Dad. Letting go...his little girl.

There's the father and his baby girl, standing at the opening of the church sanctuary, waiting for their cue; then, he's walking his daughter down the aisle...all eyes are on her...as they SHOULD be...and everyone watches and murmurs how beautiful she looks, how breathtakingly beautiful, and they all wonder how Dad can keep his composure.

"Who gives this woman to be with this man?"

"Her mother and I do," he proudly states. (How precious that he would include the woman who birthed her!)

The father walks her down the aisle...the father gives her away...and of course, there's the infamous father-daughter dance.

It's not about the Mom. It's like...there IS no Mom. Not on THIS day.

Well let me tell you all something. There is a Mom. A Mom who is more than willing to watch from a pew...to light an unseen candle...to pray an unspoken prayer...to wait about two full days before she crys uncontrollably that she just watched her baby...her last child...marry the man of her dreams. A Mom who takes the call that there will be six more added at the last minute for the sit-down dinner. A Mom who stays up through the night praying everything and everyone is content. A Mom who would make four different lists of people attending the "wedding of the century". Who would spend hours making a guest book her baby could have just as easily bought in a store. Who would plan...and spend...and cry...and laugh...and love...and pray...all for one child.

A Mom who loves her baby more than her own life. The planning of this wedding has shown me one thing. I love my children. I love the people they have chosen to marry. To live with forever. To stand and tell their intended:

"From this day forward,
You shall not walk alone.
My heart will be your shelter,
And my arms will be your home."

I love you, Rachigga...and all I have to say is this:

I hope that DJ can play some really good dancing music...and bring on that cake! :~)

No Rest For the Weary...

It has been an incredibly busy few weeks...and there is no rest in sight. Seriously. I am up late because I can't sleep...I am exhausted, but I toss and turn...trying to force my eyes closed...force my mind to be silent. Not working. How long is this going to go on? I know it cannot last forever...but; it sure seems like it could. I just do not see the proverbial light at the end of this very LONG tunnel.

Sometimes...I really hate being a woman. I hate this whole change of life thing. Didn't Christ come to cover the sin? Shouldn't the curse of Eve have been irradicated? Wishful thinking, huh? Seriously, though. This, like, totally bites. :~)

Okay...a little graphic here...I will try to keep it mellow for the weaker mindset. Two weeks on...one week off. Four weeks on...one week off. And now we begin another cycle...exactly how long this time will last is beyond me. But I can tell you it is certainly frustrating me to no end. I just want to cry. No...weep. My sweet daughters...their response: poor Dad. Probably because I have said that I feel awful for him. I know that "lack of intimacy" frustrates him. And he has been fairly okay with that. Inside joke.

After I started yet ANOTHER cycle this afternoon...I no longer feel sorry for him. I just do not have the energy to feel guilty that...well...for lack of a better terminology...he's not getting any. I AM EXHAUSTED. I WANT TO CRY ALL THE TIME. I BLEED FOR DAYS AND DAYS ON END. I AM EXHAUSTED. (Did I say that already?) "You should go and see the doctor." "Isn't there something you can take for that?" Oh my word. I am REALLY trying to NOT be a nag...to NOT be (sorry) bitchy. To understand that this is not helping him with his...tension. I don't have time to see a doctor. I have a house to clean...laundry to do...grandkids to watch...worship to plan...food to buy...meals to cook...a bridal shower in a week...a "vacation" to go on...a wedding to organize. I am just a little busy right now. AND...I am behind on a couple of the most important things to do for the wedding! I have bills to pay...friends to see...prayers to pray...children to love...grandchildren to spoil...a husband to adore. I am just a little busy right now.

I so need writing. It is so theraputic. Isn't it? It just helps put things into perspective. Sometimes. I am still weepy...but I know that this too shall pass. I am on another cycle...but hopefully...prayerfully...it won't last as long as the last one. SO I probably won't get to go to the pool on vacation...but I will be with all my kids and three of my grandkids. My family is so very tolerant of me. I am still seriously tired. In my body...my mind...my spirit...in my bones. I don't know what I need. But, I do know that whining about it certainly won't keep it from happening.

And...I do so love my husband. He is quite patient...and kind...and he's "okay with that".

Your Love...

...is Extravagant. It means overgenerous...excessive. How incredibly extravagant God's love is for me...how overgenerous He is to me. Moving to the rhythm of His grace. One of my fave choruses. Photomom (do you like your new name??) and I were discussing this chorus the other day...which is the prompt for this blog.

"Your love is extravagant...Your friendship it is intimate.
I feel I'm moving to the rhythm of Your grace
Your fragrance is intoxicating in the secret place,
Cause Your love is extravagant
Spread wide in the arms of Christ is a love that covers sin.
No greater love have I ever known; You considered me Your friend...
You captured my heart again."

When I was the Music Ministry advisor at CLS, we did this song several times. We did it before I took that position. One day someone said to me that they really hated that song because it was so sexually suggestive. We were asked not to do the song again. We didn't. (Well...until our sound guy moved away and he picked it when he lead for his last chapel. Oops.) Then we never did it again. Because I was obedient. Period.

I am no longer in that position and this is still a chorus that moves me. It speaks to me. It's truthful. It's real. It's simple. God is all things to man. To woman. I do not see or hear the complete sexual connotation here. Our friendship with Christ is supposed to be more intimate than any other relationship in our lives. He is the Bride Groom...we our his Bride for crying out loud. That should bring you great joy. Pleasure...and not in a gutter-minded kind of way. We're talking about GOD! The Husband to the widow, the Father to the father-less. It's a promise. It's HIS promise. I want to be captured by Him. To be loved by Him. To be filled with Him.
My secret place is reserved only for Christ. His Holy Spirit. My Father in heaven. My closet...where I find peace and strength to meet each and everyday.

Why is the thought of it so taboo?? The choice of words? The way they are strung together? My mind is open here, people. Explain it to me. Why is the thought of intimacy reserved for physical pleasure alone? To know me intimately does not mean I have been physical with you. It means you know me...my heart...my mind...my deepest desires for my life, my family. You know my secrets. And no one can know me as Christ knows me. Ever. In any way. He knit me together in my mother's womb...how much more secret can you get than that? And if every word in God's Word is breathed by Him...then he wrote The Song of Songs. God IS a physical God. My God brings me joy...pleasure...complete and meant for me. Don't even get me started on the Fragrance of God! The Fragrance of the Holy Spirit. Intoxicating. Shouldn't it be??? Exciting...invigorating... stimulating...exhillarating...fascinating... enthralling. That's what our worship should be TO HIM! A sweet fragrance floating heavenward for His pleasure.

So, before we tear down a chorus because it doesn't meet the standards created by a few people, listen to it. Absorb it. Allow it to speak to you. If you don't like it...so be it. No biggie. I am a defender, right or wrong, to the writing of music that causes you to think...moves you to take some kind of action. Causes a stirring of the pot, so to speak. This is one that gets you discussing the awesome love of the Creator for His Creation and what that love means. I think the writer did his job quite well. The singer (Casting Crowns is the one I listen to) expresses it with feeling.

We will do this song in our little church in the Grove. Someday. Soon.

"Fouetté, Fouetté, Fouetté, Fouetté; then turn and sell it with a look..."

Here I am, itching to write something. ANYTHING. And I cannot think of one topic to start me off. Weird. The need to share and nothing in this brain to complete the task. So, maybe, I think to myself, if I just start typing, something will come to me. Something. Wait...wait...no. Not yet. Hmmm...then again...

Did you ever wonder why some people have the gift and others do not? Like writing...singing... speaking...teaching...whatever. Or dancing. That gift of movement. I'm not talking about clubbing...I'm talking about MOVEMENT...someone who dances with a grace that can touch me emotionally or spiritually. I do not have this gift. This talent. But...I love it. I cannot get enough of the visual aspect of the grace, the poise, the beauty. Ultimate in form and precision. Incredible in passion and in power.

Okay, I am going to (actually with no shame at all) admit that I am a "So You Think You Can Dance" fan. Or fanatic. Whatever. These dancers and choreographers MOVE me. Literally. I want to jump with them. Crunk with them. Pop with them. Swing with them. Arabesque...Brisé...Arrière. I can honestly say that although I LOVE all the styles I see portrayed on the show, I LOVE Contemporary. It's beautiful. It speaks to me. I can see the story. I can feel the energy, the passion, the power. And it is powerful. And passionate.

A little deeper, now. Watching these beautiful movements, for me, I find the same feeling I get when I am truly worshiping. No lie! Because worship is passion. It has it's own power, it's own beauty. When I am completely enveloped in the passion and power of worship...when I am near or in the Throne room...I am moved, touched, completely enthralled by what I see...by what I feel. I never want it to end.

It's a gift I perfect at every opportunity. I read about it...I teach on it...I practice it continually. My face is always longing to be in His Face! I can imagine it's that way for a dancer. The "high" of the "performance" is genuine. It's exhilarating. It causes my spirit to want more. To dig deeper.

What makes YOU excited? What challenges YOU to want more? What trips YOUR trigger, so to speak? This enquiring mind wants to know.

Now, my title is a quote...not from a MOVIE...but from a television show (appropriate considering a television show is what actually prompted this blog)...do you know which one? And, even better, if you DO know which one, do you remember which episode?? AAAHHH...the challenge of it all!