A Main Street Angel

They're my guardian angels and I know they can see

Every step I take, they are watching over me

I might not know where I'm going' – The Judds

I don’t think about the subject of angels very often unless I am encountered smack dab in my face by one.  Last Friday night, I encountered an angel-- a messenger of the Divine. 

He was dressed in a crisp blue uniform that said Argenta Security.

Indeed he does provide security- the Real kind.

Some people are truly filled with a different spirit- -mysteriously kind, wise, and compassionate – that was him- his name is Spriggs.

I don’t know anything about him other than the most important thing-- He’s full of goodness and kindness and treats strangers like they are neighbors. He cares.  He’d never seen my face before nor I his.

I was at my wits end- trying to find a parking space the night of the James Taylor concert that was the same night of a traveler’s game. I had 5$ cash. That’s it. But some old friends’ I had not seen in months were down in Argenta for a quick meal and beer and instead of moping alone at home; I'd impulsively decided to go see them. Not thinking about  parking dilemmas or the fees that accompany them. Just desperately needing some familiar faces to remind me that I am not alone.

He sensed it---my trepidation, my anxiety, and my sadness bordering on despair. He must have; why else would he have waved me down in the middle of Main Street?   Feeling guilty, I stopped thinking I was in trouble. He said, “ You need a parking place- don't you?”

“Yes” stumbled out of my mouth.

“Back right up” he said smiling the widest white-toothed smile I’d ever seen.

What? Where? Why?  I was a bit skeptical and incredulous but I did it anyway.

I got out and walked over to him asking him if it was a real spot as it was only 6 feet away from the place my friends where my friends had gathered.

“It’s the mayor’s spot. But he’s not here tonight and his secretary isn’t either and it’s okay”, he reassured me.

“Thank you so much, you must be an angel.” I ran across the street and inside the tavern.

After a few hugs, quickly catching up, I said good-bye to my friends. They were dispersing to the concert. I was not. I was going home.  Alone.  Grateful to have a home and even more grateful that Milly the Dog would be there to greet me happily but still a bit sad….

The tall dark man walked over to my car and stopped me.

Yes, I am emotional and intuitive, and yes some days I cry a lot. I knew he sensed something about me other than the fact that I had needed a parking spot. Immediately tears started rolling down my face as his kindness overcame me a surely as the sun that had begun to set. He was real and gentle not some made up figment of my imagination.

“You believe in God, don’t you Ma’am?”

I nodded my head up and down and trembled out a Yes.

I do believe in God. I also believe that life is not always easy, in fact there are times where it is horribly painful and difficult.  That doesn’t make me doubt there is a God. It just makes me cry out more for help. And cry, but that is  okay.

But back to the angel….

“What’s your name?” he asked me gently.
I felt like a little lost child as my trembling lip said “Holly”.

“You must remember this- He said:

“The lord is my light and my salvation- whom should I fear?

The lord is my life’s refuge; of whom should I be afraid?”
When evildoers come at me to devour my flesh, these enemies and my foes themselves stumble and fall.

Though an army encamps against me, my heart does not fear; though war be waged against me, even then do I trust.

One thing I ask of the Lord: this I seek: to dwell in the Lord’s house all the days of my life….

He went on to recite by memory- not by reading out of the bible but from his heart--- and finished with “Wait for the lord, take courage; be stouthearted, wait for the Lord!”

I wept. And I wept. And he stooped down to give me a hug while I wept. My almost despair was all gone. These were tears of joy and deep appreciation.  Thank you Spriggs. Thank you God.

Just Love

 Today, I was sitting in the unnaturally warm December sunlight on a concrete piling with my eyes closed soaking in the sound of the river gently lapping below me next to the Big Dam Bridge.  I sometimes forget to breathe when I’m a bit stressed and was simply breathing in the quiet and the warmth- praying silently for some much needed guidance and peace for all those I love- blood family, friend family and for myself.

I love my big crazy family. We’re too noisy, too opinionated, yes dysfunctional at times----mostly we add color, love, and beauty to the world and I am incredibly grateful to be part of this “family” though I wish I was geographically closer (to some of them).

This time of year makes me think of the desire I’ve always had to be “normal”.   A normal holiday.  A normal relationship.  A normal tradition.  A normal job.

All of these normals have managed to escape me all my life.

Recently, I’ve learned to embrace the uniqueness of my family and maybe finally getting more comfortable with me--- and my own “unique” way of being in the world. I still struggle though.  And today was a day I was seeking some of God’s promises by simply being still by the water.

I think back on the choices I have made or didn’t make and the consequences of those choices.  I think of the choices I have each day- today- to either look around me with eyes of gratitude or eyes that see lack.
Today, it was clear that I needed to focus on gratitude; after all, what we focus on grows. Energy flows where attention goes—according to some wise soul.

The sun, the river, the sky, the wind. The sun, the river, sky, the wind.

It became a mantra. Then, a prayer. Then a litany of thanksgiving. 

 That I am strong enough to be outside in the sun running- or sitting and trying to be still.

 That the gentle wind is a quiet reminder of God’s presence and very breath of my being.

 That I had the world’s sweetest golden doodle at my side as my running companion.

 That I was able to encourage young excited, expectant six year olds to read today.

That I shared a simple adventure with  two little girls- my sweet precious granddaughters, a bike- run- whatever it was- yesterday that spilled over with laughter and awesome innocence.

That a beautiful new chic suit arrived in the mail today – a gift from my step-mother!

I didn’t get the burning bush. Nope. Never seem to get that and actually that’s all right with me, as I don’t care for fires much anyway anymore after almost dying in one.

What I did “get” was this--- this is the time of year when one thing matters the most. Love.  A wise, loving soul recently said to me- “Love came down” at Christmas many years ago, and still continues to do so right now- this Christmas time.

I have to admit- I could feel some strange stares- sitting so still with my eyes closed but I knew I needed to JUST BE STILL.

It’s silly that being still is a major feat in my world but honestly, it is.  My prayers for guidance, clarity will continue to go up for all those I love—and I love a bunch of people!!!

And then, I opened my eyes to the flickering sunlight and felt this strange, gentleness in the silence. An almost muted echo "just love".

No, I wasn’t hearing voices—no need for zyprexa for me. I think I was simply focusing on what really was true and present.

A strange thing happened next.

Two women whom I barely know were walking by right when I was getting back up. I am almost ALWAYS alone when I exercise.

A conversation began between us and so I joined them in their walk.  It was just a walk. Just interaction with other women struggling with some of the same issues that plague me- but it was more than that. It was a divine reminder for me –that I am not alone.  Love does come down, always….

Spectacular sunrises and surprised by Dog

This morning it looked like a big huge wide paintbrush had been dipped in pinks, and purples and dragged across the sky.  The air was crisp and cold- so cold when you breathe you see your breath.  I laughed at Milly as I saw this incongruent light fluffy cold air coming from this big fuzzy smiley dog. It was an amazing way to start the day. We walked, jogged and hiked for nine miles in the crisp air.  She stayed close to my side for the first hour- trudging in the muddy wet lowlands. The knocking sound of the busy woodpecker made her jump at first. The birds began their serenade and I basked in the solitude and beauty. 

 Then as we began to get a bit higher she shot out front of me like a bullet and then darted right back knocking into me and landing both of us on our butts in the mud.  I laughed until I cried. I thought how thankful I was to have the good health to be outside hiking on such a glorious day.  I thanked God for this silly crazy dog that loves me.
She doesn’t mind well (yet) but she smiles so wide it doesn’t even matter. She eats pillows, furniture, butter, light bulbs, honey and jewelry (YEP) and trots through the house by my side. She knows when I’m sad- and tries to stop the tears- That reminds me of a line in Psalm 56 where it says God bottles up our tears.  I thought about how Dog spelled backward is God. Maybe we learn a lot about the love of God through our dogs. They are always there when we need them. They love us even when we are stinky, bad or sad. They look at us with eyes of love and respond with Joy when we pay attention. They don’t’ lie to us. They don’t betray us. They simply love us deeply. There’s a reason why that ole saying- Dogs are a  (hu) man’s best friend. 

The death and resurrection of "Magic"

She came running into the kitchen, her red hair waving wildly, bright red cheeks dripping with heavy fast falling tears.
"Baby, what's wrong?" I asked as I  knelt down to pick her up.
She couldn't talk she was crying so hard. You know when you cry so hard you can barely even breathe.
"Milly ate Magic. She ruined her. She ripped her open". She slowly divulged the gory details.
Milly is our golden doodle puppy who is not really puppy size but in all other ways- definitely a puppy.
Apparently she'd nosed her way into the girls' bedroom and picked out just the right stuffed pink unicorn. Well- right for Milly - wrong, very wrong for Addi.
There was no consoling Addisyn with another toy though we have many. Someone special to her had given her Magic- and she wanted that Magic back.  Her sister, Stella joined in the crying game because then Milly had eaten Stella's banana. That was a little bit easier to fix.

We got on the trusty Internet- all 3 of us desperately looking for a replacement for Magic- the pink unicorn. Thank God and Ty toys- we found it and ordered it and hopefully it will be here soon- very soon.
I started to think about it though. Why do certain things mean so much to us when others are meaningless? Even Addi- who is a precocious 5 year old- sensed that the love associated with that gift- meant more to her than any other present she received at her birthday party- and she got a lot of loot!
What are you attached to? Or are you afraid to even be attached to something as simple as a stuffed animal? Has your heart become so hardened that nothing really brings you that comfort and joy of knowing you are loved? It's easy to happen in this world we live in. We are so busy. We are so important. We are so.... starving for love. We stuff that hunger down or we subvert it- but if we are vulnerable like a child- we would cry out just like Addisyn did for that symbolic something that makes us feel loved and safe in this big world that can be scary and lonely.
The banana was replaced, spongebob distracted all of us from the loss of the moment. Milly sat by all of us- the thumping of her tail like a clock keeping time- smiling- oblivious to the near disaster she had caused.
I gathered my sweet granddaughters close and squeezed them tightly. I am reminded every single day how precious life is- how important love is- and how scared we all are to express it.
God promises us abundant life- now- in spite of and though loss, grief, trauma. It is here if we embrace it.

Trick or Treat

So many things come dressed up in beautiful packages- pink, yellow tissue paper surround a pot holder. Your heart kind of sinks when you see it. Halloween is a time when you can dress up as anything you can dream. OK- some folks go to far. But my experience of Halloween 2012 was a different one from all the other ones I've had, and yes I've had a bunch.
I spent the afternoon and evening with my granddaughter's.  "No, Aha- no poodle" my 2 year old Stella says to me as she pulls at her pink fuzzy Fifi hat that completes her pink furry poodle outfit. Her lower lip trembled as she pushed it off as we engaged in a tug of war- on and off. Meanwhile, Minnie Mouse- my five year old Granddaughter aka Addi was urging me "come on Aha, come on! I'm ready to start!"
Stella was recalcitrant. She could not imagine what had gotten into me- forcing her to dress in a silly probably uncomfortable suit and being carried, ( she would not walk) around from house to house. But as she watched her sister and lisped Twick or Tweet she got it! Down, Aha, pease. Down she goes... and off she runs to the next neighbors house. "Stella slow down" I yell and start to run myself. Before I know it, not only is her sister a professional trick or treater but so is this very young child.
I was delighted to participate in the evening. No, I didn't dress up- I went as myself- I happy but exhausted grandmother. As the sun began to go down, and legs began to tire, I decided we needed to go to a local church where we could make more progress in a smaller space. There is something to be said for strategic thinking when it comes to trick or treating with two very young girls.
We entered an alternate universe- star war characters, monsters, vandals, pirates, princesses, cowboys, fairies all filled the local church parking lot- along with the noise and smells that go with 100 plus children. Some were aggressive- not pausing to let smaller children stay in line- kids learn early to be tough when it comes to getting what they want.
Thankfully, my two were into the magic and mystery of the night. The poodle- got sleepy- and her enthusiasm soon began to ebb. But the oldest- was on fire. She was happy, no joyful! To get to simply wander around on a school night and go around saying Happy Halloween and then to be rewarded by those 2 words with gooey chocolate, yummy lollipops, yucky candy corn and a wide assortment of candy was like a dream for her. Suddenly, I was eight years old again, roaming the neighborhood of my home in an Atlantan suburb. The scent of mischief, the taste of sweetness, and the sight of witches, ghosts, scary masks- came rushing back to me. It was a night like no other. A night where nothing was expected of you but to have fun. And to be safe, of course. A night where you could even play a trick and not get in to much trouble. Tricks then were simple. Ring and Run.
As the night ended and the girls faded, my sense of joy had increased. I was thankful. Thankful for the beautiful girls that I have been blessed to be a grandmother to- thankful that I could still take simple pleasure at their joy, thankful that people still wanted to make little ones happy by offering treats.
It's a strange holiday, isn't it? But a helpful one for me this year.  One that made me count my blessings- that there is one night in the year dedicated to just having fun. To being joyful. To getting to dress up, laugh, and receive sweet treats in return.
My years has not been a fun one. In fact, it has been full of more tricks that treats. But as I look back over the past 12 months, I can see that there indeed have been amazing treats among the tricks.

Yes, I was conned by a conman contractor who stole my money. Yes, my house burned down. Yes, I was depressed. Yes, I struggled with the trauma of the ongoing problems.  But now I see, that God was indeed still there providing. We are told to find Joy in all things. I must confess I could not and did not at the moment during this past year. But I see the hand of God now has been upon me- regardless of the despair, tragedy, financial loss--- People I never expected gathered around me- to help me in the horrible painful task of tearing down my house and then after the contractor ran away, more people stumbled into my life- to help me rebuild not only my house but my hope. My faith has been tested this past year- not my belief in God- just my faith- I have not had the eyes to see that it would eventually work out- nor the energy to believe this incomprehensible mysterious truth. But it has, it did and it will.
Who would have thought that it took Halloween- a poodle and Minnie Mouse to help me recover my joy and renew my faith?
Thanks Be To God!

Endings and Beginnings

I climbed up a ladder yesterday to the top of my old house's roof. This was not a smart idea but I thought it might help me "process" the ending of this horrific trauma and move on. It did and it didn't. I learned the fire was far more extensive- as you can see from my rooftop photograph. LOL. I could smell that smell all over again- due to the high humidity and rain we've been having lately. It brought chill bumps to me. But, something else happened at the very same time. I could see God's hand at work. I can see God is creating a new beginning in my life. I have no idea what that holds- it is still very much unrevealed and unknown... but I can feel the presence of God with me. I look down and see the bright pink azaleas that survived- they are in full, glorious bloom-teaming with breathtaking beauty and new life... Though my house is stripped bare, the roof to be removed totally today- a new roof will be placed, I pray, and new walls, floors, etc will be built eventually.

Meanwhile, Spring is here. A wonderful reminder of the seasons of our life. A reminder that every single season, no matter how hard and dark, serves some purpose. Not that I confess to know what that purpose is- but I trust God knows.

This is the season of Lent. It has a new meaning for me this year- this time of meditation and reflection on Christ and his life- the ending and the beginnings. I am walking through each day with a heart that is both heavy and thankful, empty yet full, sad yet hopeful.

I remember that Christ continued to live his life- follow his calling- to the very bitter end- and then after. What an inspiration for little ole me to do the same thing. To know that I can carry my cross and follow the One who Makes all things new...

Peace and Grace,

Holly

Hard Stuff

I still cry everyday. I don't know if it's depression, grief, or just processing a whole lot of stuff.

I wish I didn't. I know people wonder what's going on, what's wrong with her??? I can't help it though. I am learning a lot since my house burned on December 3 and my life literally was turned upside down.

I am learning how hard it is for me to show my real need.

I am learning how difficult it is for me to ask for help.

I am learning that it is even harder for me to receive help.

I am learning that Guilt and I are still quite intimate. I feel guilty that I can't function like I always have... Gulity that I can't manage everything and everyone else's needs... I don't like what I am learning but I am trusting that this is a process of yet another phase of growth for me.

Growth hurts, painfully so, at times. But I am also learning that I have real, loving, kind people in my life who want to help me. I am learning that it is okay to show my weaknesses and it is even acceptable when I can't do it all. I am learning the most important thing of all. That I have to let go and let other people in and help me. I trust God but now I am learning to trust that GOd sends people to embody him.... to help carry the burden and to encourage all of us... Only if we will let go and let God do it...