Posts Tagged ‘blessed’


It was a recent conversation with my eldest daughter (who happens to be a Psych. Major) that made me ponder the effects of my being a mother has on my being a daughter.

I had a good childhood, surrounded by a cornucopia of immediate and extended family members.

I lived in a place where community meant everyone (but what else could it mean in a village of less than two thousand people?).

I got a good education, by people who cared about their students.

I was exposed to Christianity, even though my parents did not practice that lifestyle.

I was encouraged that I could do whatever I put my mind to.

I was loved … really, really loved.

If I were to attach one word to my childhood it would be … blessed!

Now, get your imaginations out of Cleverville! I said blessed … not perfect! not flawless! not without tears! or hurts! or disappointments! or damage!

There was a time in my early adulthood that I vividly felt the flaws of my upbringing … the hurts from childhood … the damages. I pondered (too long) the disappointments I felt in some of my memories and experiences.

This is all normal, for we need to go through the ice-cold waters in our memories to start to feel the warmth again. We need to feel the frigid to realize that our parents are not perfect … so as to prepare us for the reality that, as parents, we too are not perfect.

As I look back on my own parenting of our three kids, it is when they were very young, that the warmth of forgiveness began to touch my mother-heart.

Anyone with young children will tell you of the ease with which a child will forgive. I remember going to each of our kids on many (many, many, many) occasions to apologize for some hurt, disappointment, damage … tears that I caused them. Each time my kids would immediately, readily, enthusiastically respond, “it’s okay Mommy.” And there and then, my sins forgiven, it was over and forgotten.

As my kids are growing into the young adult years, I am becoming more and more aware that they will soon be sliding into more reflective, more critical years as they look back on their own childhoods … on their own mother. I realize I will need to grow thicker skin, and discerning ears. I realize I will need to put unconditional love into practice.

It is my own kid’s unconditional forgiveness of me, that helped me to forgive, and forget the imperfections of my own parents. It is through my own kids that I was able to look at my parents as having done what they did, with the knowledge and experience available to them when they were in the deep waters of parenting.

With all that said, they did the best they could … and I was blessed.


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Since ‘My Loves’ (pages) needed updating, and since I am returning to work this week, I thought I would give myself a bit of time to adjust to the rigors of the work week, by editing these pages this week. Besides, you might be reading this and have never had me introduce those who are nearest and dearest to my heart!

P&C CroppedToday I am sharing about the man that I married, share life, and children, and bed, and mortgage, and beast, and vacations and … life with.

On itsawonderfilledlife, this man is better known as ‘The Hubby‘ (and you can click on the highlighted words to read more about him). As we prepare to celebrate our twenty-fourth anniversary, this fall, I am in awe of what those twenty-four years represent … the joys, the heartaches … the memories that we hold dear, and the ones that have slipped from our thoughts.

Because two people came together, three more are walking this sod … amazing!

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Since ‘My Loves’ (pages) needed updating, and since I am returning to work this week, I thought I would give myself a bit of time to adjust to the rigors of the work week, by editing these pages this week. Besides, you might be reading this and have never had me introduce those who are nearest and dearest to my heart!

These three are my most amazing co-creations! And they are my pièce de résistance.

How can two people reproduce and end up with three such distinct individuals? Truly it is an amazing thing to live life feeding daily into the maturing process of three human beings.

I love them with all that is within me … and I know I fail to love them enough. It is that reason alone that I am thankful that they and I share a heavenly Father, who loves them far more than I could ever possibly love them.

And here are the links, for Brittany, and Christiana, and Benjamin.


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Since ‘My Loves’ (pages) needed updating, and since I am returning to work this week, I thought I would give myself a bit of time to adjust to the rigors of the work week, by editing these pages this week. Besides, you might be reading this and have never had me introduce those who are nearest and dearest to my heart!

Today I am linking to my pages on My Mom and My Dad (you can click on the links to read them).


I am blessed.


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As I write this post my fatigue has tossed my adrenalin into the sea of forgetfulness.

I am sitting on an airplane, just one hour from my southeast destination, and almost seven from when I boarded a plane with two of my children, in the Pacific Northwest.

I have personally had only about an hours rest in the past twenty-four hours, and I am weary beyond words.

My daughter and son have finally found rest … One slumped over at the window, and the other weighing heavily on my shoulder.

As the adrenalin has faded away, as planning and packing and preparations have given way to fulfillment of our plans, my thoughts have turned to how very fragile life is.greeting-card-flower-life-is-fragile2

In recent days, as I have become aware of the death of a gentle man, of the tragedy of preschoolers left in life without a mommy and a daddy, of the heartbreak of a couple (and all their family) dealing with the news that the dreams of health and long life that they have had for their yet born baby will not be as dreamed …

the high levels of adrenalin have not allowed these events to pierce my heart …

until now.

Life is fragile.

Having had these two children of mine lay their heads on my shoulder in as many hours, turning towards the tops of their heads, inhaling the scents that are uniquely their own, reminiscing in my mind of the many times we have traveled together since their births, fatigued, frustrated and even infected by flu bugs …

I remember

how very blessed I am,
how very short life is.
how very fragile life is.

According to every source I checked (there were many), women under 35 years only have a 20-30% chance of conceiving each month, and about half of all conceptions end in miscarriage (most before the woman knows that she is pregnant).

I remember the agonies of losses of little, yet born babies, I remember vowing that those losses would not be in vain. I remember promising each of our children as I held them in my arms in different hospitals, in different cities, even different provinces, that I would not forget how very blessed I am to have the chance to be their mom …

that ‘mom’ would be more than a noun,
a title,
that mom would be a verb,
That I would not just ‘be called’ mom
I would be mom to them …
mom in action
LOVE in action.

As our newborns grow up to independent thinking teenagers, we forget to inhale, and drink in the scent that is uniquely theirs. We forget how just holding their newborn body in our arms brought us to tears, how the sight of their smile made us smile, how nothing mattered more to us than protecting our babies.

As parents of teenagers we need to get physically close enough to drink in that scent, we need to hold them close, we need to look at them, and smile … we need to protect our kids.

Or maybe, if we hold them close, if we can be still enough to be brought to tears just by holding them in our arms, if we smile at them … every day, maybe that will be a protective barrier around them, around their hearts.

Life is a miracle!

Life is fragile.

Love in action!

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desrais_claude_louis-job_on_the_dung_hill_scolded_by_his_w~OM421300~10000_20090708_L09640_62The picture to the right was created by Claude Louis Desrais. It is a depiction of Job, sitting on a dunghill, being scolded by his wife.

I don’t want to be that kind of wife …

Job lost just about everything. He lost his livestock, his servants, his ten children. What God had blessed him with, was taken away.

Then, “his wife said to him, “Are you still maintaining your integrity? Curse God and die!”(Job 1:9).

I don’t want to be that kind of wife …

But …

… she lost too. Her ten children were dead. Her husband’s livestock and servants gone, leaving little to no means of survival. Job was not the only one suffering, she was mourning, she was up to her neck in the depths of despair.

It is in the response that Job gave to her that I understand him better:

He replied, “You are talking like a foolish woman. Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?” (Job 1:10)

Job did not say, “you ARE a foolish woman” he said “you are talking LIKE a foolish woman.” This would indicate that maybe this was not a normal response for Job’s wife, but that maybe she had reached her breaking point. Then Job says, “shall WE accept good from God, and not trouble,” his statement was one that included her, and he was reminding his wife, reminding himself, that God had indeed blessed them with good things, and that just as they had trusted Him in the good, they both needed to trust him in the bad.

Then Job’s health was affected, with soars covering his body. In all of this suffering Job not longer heard God’s voice … something he so longed for. Now it seemed that everything was taken from him.

Then his wife said to him, “are you still maintaining your integrity? Curse God and die!” (Job 2:9)

I don’t want to be that kind of wife …

Just when he is knocked almost completely to the ground he came from, his wife kicks him in the ribs with her words.

I don’t want to be that kind of wife …

Then he replied to his wife again, similarly to his previous reply, “you are talking like a foolish woman. Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?” (Job 2:10)

Oh, how easy it is to be a foolish wife (or husband, or child, or …). How easy it is to see someone we love suffer, and look to whatever way possible to relieve that loved one of their suffering. Sometimes we are so desperate that we suggest that which is simply … foolish.

I don’t want to be that kind of wife …

We do not hear of his wife again in the account of Job, other than the report that when Satan was done with Job, God restored everything to Job, including ten new children, who we are left to suppose were also children of his wife. What I wonder is if she understood the foolishness of her words to Job.

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It is time, once again, for confession …

Hello, my name is Carole, and I have been whiny!

I have been whiny all week long! I have griped, I have complained, I have been pouty and even a bit surly at times. As I look back over this past week, I really feel a great sense of sorrow for my poor family, co-workers and anyone else who has had the great misfortune to be in my presence this week. Especially my family, who has been on the receiving end of my mood.

I haven’t been yelling or excessively aggressive, so much as lethargic, useless and very little mental capacity for anything beyond making a cup of tea.

My poor family members have tried to share stories of the day, as I stare off into their foreheads. They have asked simple questions, as tears fell from my eyes and I begged, “please, no more questions.” They have asked about making social plans, and been responded to with, “I am struggling to plan which apple to pack in my lunch, ask your father.”

Basically I have been having a week of low physical energy that has turned me into a bit of a ‘bump on a lump’ to live with. My hormones are so fatigued that even they have gone into lethargic hiding (and that is saying something for the hormones of a thirty-nine year old woman … with three years experience). Right now I would just like to follow in the noble line of mothers – of the bear family- and snuggle into a warm and cozy den for a long winter’s nap of hibernation!

Heck, I am so lethargic right now that even my sweet tooth is in absentia (and that might just be a new wonder of the world)!

I have to say, though, that my family has been amazing to me this week. While I was dragging my feet from one place to the next, every time I opened my mouth sounding like Eeyore, and offering little other than food at dinner time (honestly, I am not quite sure how that got done … I must have been on autopilot), they simple moved and swayed around me. Once in a while a hug, or an arm around my shoulders, or an offer of a coffee shop run for my favorite tea latte (aka, my happy drink), or some assistance with a job around the house was given to me, with no hope of anything more than a grunt in return.

A lethargic week? Yes. A week where I know that I am loved by my family? Definitely! I am blessed!

No more Eeyore … besides, 😉 it’s Friday!

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Hubby and I have been married for almost an eternity and we share three children … ages almost twenty, fifteen and a half and almost thirteen (funny … almost and halves are never added to the ages of parents … I, for instance, am thirty-nine … with three four years experience).

Just a few weeks ago we said farewell to our eldest for a semester at an East Coast University. Our youngest daughter entered grade ten, and our youngest is in his last year of Middle School.

For the past couple of summers I have had moments when I can see into the future.

Our home would frequently be vacated by our kids. Dinners in the summer are often just three of us, or, if we are lucky, two. Those times when it is just us two, we feel are treats, and we enjoy the peace and quiet that our kid’s busy social lives allow.

But, peace and quiet, as delightful as it is once in a while, reminds me that it is coming in a more regular fashion, and very soon. These moments of alone time for hubby and I remind me that soon it will be hubby and I more often than not. That the laundry will not take all Saturday. That dinner out will not be Subway. That grocery shopping will be a short stop rather than an evening affair. That my vehicle will not be a minivan, and it will not go through fuel like that of a taxi.

Recently, when the house was empty, except for hubby and I, I just sat and imagined all that extra time to do as I pleased. Hubby was tapping away at his laptop, watching something on television. The beast was having her after-dinner nap. And, I was still and imagined.

I did not like what I was imagining, because it seemed so very … quiet.

As I sat, imagining, I realized that this phase of life is the one I dreamed of most, back when it was just hubby and I, dreaming together of what our future would be. I have never been a ‘baby person,’ although I loved our kids as babies. I always dreamed of having a house full of adolescents and teens, filling our house, and my days, with noise, and laughter and the challenges of growing up. I imagined just what I have, right now.

How blessed I am to have this dream fulfilled. And how blessed I am that God whispered in my ear, to be still, so that I didn’t wish this most desired phase of life to be over without fully immersing my heart into it.

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