Wednesday, December 23, 2009

so near...

baking, shopping, eating, wrapping, traffic, music, malls, santas, ...

and every time my little girl passes a nativity scene (they are all over the place here, thanks to our catholic roots in the philippines) she exclaims, "Baby Jesus!"

that's all she knows, really.

it's Jesus' birthday soon.

and mommy is making a cake for Jesus.

and we give presents- we give Him our hearts.

Lord, be near this christmas as in no other...

happy birthday, Jesus.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

mothers watch at windows...

Mothers watch at windows...
watch as the hours pass by,
stopping occasionally to check
the supper in the oven,
straighten a little in the house,
then back to the window,
wondering, hoping, praying...
listening for the phone,
turning the neck to see
both sides of the street,
straining eyes to see inside taxis,
waiting for the heart to explode
when the loved one appears...

mothers watch at windows...
light lamps, arrange flowers,
reach out into the universe
to draw the loved one home...
hearts watching, waiting endlessly,
patient and persistent...
mothers watch at windows...

Mothers wave goodbye...
and hold the unshed tears
till they're alone.
We watch our children
stride away
with straight brave backs,
not looking behind.
We kiss little faces
thinking “is this the last time?”
for life is uncertain...
and we smile.

Mothers act an incredible act
of excitement and joy-
“be brave! Isn't this an adventure?!”
when we tremble and quake
in our hearts...
not knowing, we give knowledge.
Fearing, we give courage.
Fainting, we give strength.
No one- hardly anyone,
except perhaps another mother-
sees us cry
the diamond drops of anguish.
Mothers wave goodbye.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

i know he loves me...

in church last sunday one of the worship songs was a favorite of mine...a beautiful Hillsongs of the lines is "i know you love me"...

my hearts beats for this truth. he loves me. the father loves me. i grew up with an absent, unaffectionate father who was often emotionally unstable. i know in my head he did love me, but was incapable of showing or acknowledging it. my little girl's heart longed for love, acceptance, reassurance that i was normal and secure and safe.

i'm thankful for my healing journey that has brought me to the place where i can sing with all my heart "i know he loves me"...i'm so thankful for jesus, who is the bridge between me and the father, who heals me daily, who whispers to the child within my mind that "it's ok, everything is ok".

i do know it now, to the core of my being, that i am loved. safe. held.

i never one time recall my father holding me. touching me.

but through jesus, the father god holds my heart daily.

i know he loves me. the following beautiful lyrics are something i envision singing in my spirit when i stand at the threshold of eternity some day, waiting to step into his open arms. i know he loves me.

Oh Lord You've searched me, You know my ways
Even when I fail You, I know You love me

Your holy presence, Surrounding me
In every season
I know You love me
I know You love me

At the cross I bow my knee
Where Your blood was shed for me
There's no greater love than this
You have overcome the grave
Glory fills the highest place
What can separate me now?

You go before me, You shield my way
Your hand upholds me, I know You love me

You tore the veil
You made a way
When You said that it is done,
When You said that it is done...

And when the earth fades, falls from my eyes
You stand before me
i know You love me
i know You love me

Saturday, December 12, 2009


my 3-year-old daughter Emma loves to hear and say things over and over and over. Often when she speaks, it's in triplication..."Mommy, i needa go potty, i needa go potty, i needa go potty..." cute, and persistent, and repetitive.

it being christmastime, we are reading christmas stories. she has fixated on several christmas themes during this year, probably because it's the first year she's really understood a teeny bit of what it's all about. she effortlessly weaves together santa and the baby Jesus...and she's jumped from frosty the snowman, to the christmas star Alabaster (max lucado's story), and now- we are fixated on the little drummer boy.

every night. we read it. over and over and over. now she knows it all by heart, and tries so hard to get her little tongue around the "pa rum-pa-pum-pum"...and her little black eyes become round and astonished at "i have no gift to bring"...then brighten up at "shall i play for you (pa rum pa pum pum)? on my drum?" and she nods solemnly and approvingly at the final page as I read "then...he smiled at me (pa rum pa pum pum), me and my drum..." and as my voice lowers to a whisper, she looks at the picture of the little drummer boy marching off into the distance and the smiling baby, and we wait quietly while she- meditates.

it led me today to begin to think about emma's technique of's meditation, in a way. hearing it over and over until it becomes meaningful.

i'm ashamed that i don't fixate on the Word like emma fixates on the little drummer boy, this week at least.

i, like emma, need to meditate on the word. over and over and over. pa rum pa pum pum.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

for those of you in the frozen north...

written after a surprising skate on fake ice here in the tropics! at a mall...believe it or made me recall my early childhood days of skating- the only sport i truly loved...

I’d forgotten
How it hisssses
And sssspitsss
And scccrapesss
And glaresss with
Cccracccckky eyesss
As you skate over it…

Blackkk depthsss
Reach up
To a thin veneeeeeer
Of cccrysssstal
That sssupportsss my ssskkkates

I am comforted by the deeeep cccrisssscccrossss anglesss
Of jagggged xxxx’s-
It’s thickkkk enough
To hold me…

Ha ha…
Sssspittt away
Hissss if you likkke

I’ll ssskkkate on you
Till ssspring!

Sunday, December 6, 2009

my prayer

"I would that I could be
A wound-dresser
Of souls-
Reaching the aching heart,
The tortured mind,
Calming them as the night
Calms tired bodies
When she drops the mantle of sleep
Over the world.
As each cold, glittering star
So might I stand in mine,
But with the warmth of a smile
On my face,
And in my eyes
An image of the Soul Divine."
-author unknown

Friday, December 4, 2009

christmas at sea...


The sheets were frozen hard, and they cut the naked hand;
The decks were like a slide, where a seamen scarce could stand;
The wind was a nor'wester, blowing squally off the sea;
And cliffs and spouting breakers were the only things a-lee.

They heard the surf a-roaring before the break of day;
But 'twas only with the peep of light we saw how ill we lay.
We tumbled every hand on deck instanter, with a shout,
And we gave her the maintops'l, and stood by to go about.

All day we tacked and tacked between the South Head and the North;
All day we hauled the frozen sheets, and got no further forth;
All day as cold as charity, in bitter pain and dread,
For very life and nature we tacked from head to head.

We gave the South a wider berth, for there the tide-race roared;
But every tack we made we brought the North Head close aboard:
So's we saw the cliffs and houses, and the breakers running high,
And the coastguard in his garden, with his glass against his eye.

The frost was on the village roofs as white as ocean foam;
The good red fires were burning bright in every 'long-shore home;
The windows sparkled clear, and the chimneys volleyed out;
And I vow we sniffed the victuals as the vessel went about.

The bells upon the church were rung with a mighty jovial cheer;
For it's just that I should tell you how (of all days in the year)
This day of our adversity was blessed Christmas morn,
And the house above the coastguard's was the house where I was born.

O well I saw the pleasant room, the pleasant faces there,
My mother's silver spectacles, my father's silver hair;
And well I saw the firelight, like a flight of homely elves,
Go dancing round the china-plates that stand upon the shelves.

And well I knew the talk they had, the talk that was of me,
Of the shadow on the household and the son that went to sea;
And O the wicked fool I seemed, in every kind of way,
To be here and hauling frozen ropes on blessed Christmas Day.

They lit the high sea-light, and the dark began to fall.
"All hands to loose topgallant sails," I heard the captain call.
"By the Lord, she'll never stand it," our first mate Jackson, cried.
."It's the one way or the other, Mr. Jackson," he replied.

She staggered to her bearings, but the sails were new and good,
And the ship smelt up to windward just as though she understood.
As the winter's day was ending, in the entry of the night,
We cleared the weary headland, and passed below the light.

And they heaved a mighty breath, every soul on board but me,
As they saw her nose again pointing handsome out to sea;
But all that I could think of, in the darkness and the cold,
Was just that I was leaving home and my folks were growing old.

By Robert Louis Stevenson (1850