September 15, 2010 @ 11:11 am | Filed under: The Solid Rock,Uniquely Me
“A dream is your creative vision for your life in the future. You must break out of your current comfort zone and become comfortable with the unfamiliar and the unknown.” – Denis Waitley
Contentment. Fear. Two emotions that seem to have no relation to one another and yet they have shimmied up to one another inside of me and have both become quite still. No pushing or shoving for a place of dominance. No arguments over which has the right of ownership inside my heart. Instead, they sit with their arms around one another as if to let me know that this is natural. It’s not something to fear. It’s something that will teach you.
I have never been more content nor more afraid of where God is guiding my life than I am right now.
I’m standing at the edge of the shore, watching the waves push new opportunities and experiences closer toward me as I dig my toes into the cool, course sand. There are some waves that I’m eager to reach for, to dive into and see what happens when I come up on the other side. These are moments when I glimpse a distant horizon – wonderous and magnificent. Anticipation pulses through me, and – in these moments – I reach for it, anxious to experience the beauty of what He has waiting for me.
These waves are easy.
Then there are the waves that I see coming from some distance away. They are giant and as they creep ever closer, it’s obvious that they will soon tower over me, swallowing me first in their shadow and then in their depth. I try to squelch the thumping of raw nerves in my veins and still the thudding of my breaking heart. These are the waves that promise the ride of a lifetime, but also carry with them the fear of the unknown. To jump into these depths means that I will follow God’s call for me and for my family, letting go of what has been my buoy and my lifeline for so long in order to go to where He is.
These waves are tougher.
I am afraid. I am nervous. I am feeling unsettled. My heart races and I have moments when I entertain the thought of crawling back to shore to complete and utter safety. To the known, the comfortable. And yet I cannot ignore the niggling in the depths of my being – the still, small voice that reminds me that You are ready for this. The past years have prepared my heart for this very moment in time. For this swim. For this wild, God-given adventure that will take me to ports of call I’ve not even thought to imagine.
I know what I will ultimately do. It’s what I always do. Because – for me – there has never been, and never will be, another choice except to follow. I will dive head first into the waves God puts before me, trusting that His great love for me will stand as lifeguard over my heart and life as I do my best to let His current take over and move me where He desires me to be.
I am content. I am still afraid. Two emotions that seem to have no connection reside like easy companions in my soul. I’m okay with them both. I uncurl my toes from the sand and take a few timid steps into the water. God’s call on my life swirls gently around my ankles as I move forward, encouraging me to step out in faith. He is waiting, arms outstretched to help me through the difficult moments. He tells me to come in, the water is fine.
I trust that.
devotions, faith, walk with God
August 4, 2010 @ 6:35 am | Filed under: Books,CFBA Reviews
Mr. Romance
In Life with Lord Byron: Laughter, Romance, and Lessons Learned from Golf’s Greatest Gentleman, Peggy Nelson pens a charming personal memoir.
Her detailed recall of conversations and situations reveals a deep love that marked the Nelsons’ relationship and nearly twenty-year marriage must have kept her memories fresh.
Byron married Peggy, more than thirty years his junior, at age seventy-five. Since her husband retired in 1946 after a career that included the famous “Eleven Straight” PGA tournament victory streak, Peggy experienced none of his career firsthand. What she did experience, however, was a man of deep faith, love, and integrity.
Here’s an excerpt: Read it, enjoy it, and then leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of the book, which includes a CD of Byron Nelson himself reminiscing.
By Peggy Nelson
There were moments in our nearly twenty years together when I would fall far short of Byronʼs or even my own standards of patience, perseverance, and several other virtues. When I would wonder aloud to him about how he managed to put up with me, or what he saw in me in the first place, he would sometimes say, “I saw what you could be.” Isnʼt that amazing? He had such a gift for not only seeing the best in people but helping them, often in some unspoken way, to bring it out, and to become better people just because they had been around him, even for a little while. Youʼre beginning to see, I think, why I have always felt that Iʼm an extraordinarily blessed woman.
One of the most wonderful signs of Byronʼs love was something he did for our second anniversary. Unbeknownst to me he had gone out to Preston Trail where there was a display of some of his medals and other small mementos and asked if he could replace the 1937 Masters Gold Medal with another one he had. They cooperated, fortunately, and he then took that precious piece of history to our jeweler and had it made into a beautiful pendant and gave it to me. It truly brought tears to my eyes, because I knew that was the most important tournament in his career to him, so I understood how much it signified of not only his love for me but also his trust that I could prove worthy of such a gift.
You may wonder what our days and weeks and months and years together were like. We quickly developed a comfortable pattern of normalcy. When we were at home, we had breakfast together, and then Byron would do the dishes and go out to his shop for some woodworking. He would come in later for lunch, then go back to the shop or maybe to play golf with friends in Dallas or Fort Worth. We typically had a fairly early dinner and relaxed in the evenings together. At first I remember Byron had been so used to going to bed early while Louise was ill that he thought 9:30 was about the right time to go to sleep. But he had also been used to getting up at 5:30 or 6 to take care of Louise.
Fortunately, we were soon able to change that schedule by a couple of hours. Soon after we celebrated our first one-month anniversary, Byron announced his next goal was to make it to one hundred months, which we gleefully celebrated with an elegant dinner at the Four Seasons. The monthly anniversaries continued until we got to ten years, then he wanted to get to two hundred months, which we did. Each month was sweeter than the one before, until finally, just eleven days before he went to heaven, we celebrated number 238 at the Olive Garden, another of our favorite restaurants. How we delighted in each other!
When we were driving to Dallas, Fort Worth, Kerrville or wherever, we held hands. Byronʼs were always so warm, and of course, if you ever got to shake hands with him, you knew his hands were really big. In fact, when we were first married, his grip on mine as we drove along would slowly, gradually, get tighter and tighter until I would need to shake mine a little bit to restore the circulation. One time when I did that, he apologized and said, “I guess Iʼm trying to make sure youʼre not going to go back to Ohio.” Fat chance.
As everyone who knew Byron well would agree, he was a born encourager. He found ways to express his appreciation and enjoyment of others and did so at every opportunity. Above the other compliments from him, my very favorite was when he would say, “When you look at me, your eyes sparkle and dance!” It said so much about the feeling that flowed between the two of us. He really did light up my life so beautifully that it was the most natural thing in the world to reflect that light right back to him. I always had the same reaction when we had been separated even for as little as an hour at church, if I was helping with a childrenʼs class while he was in the adult Bible study. When I would catch sight of him again, my heart would beat faster, and Iʼd say to myself, There he is!
We had so many pet names for each other that some folks might find it a bit silly, but we enjoyed and used every single one: Honeypot, Queen of All Queens, Sleeping Tiger, Adorable Darling, Angeldoll, Cuddlebear, and the like. And of course, on a more formal note, we occasionally addressed each other as Mr. Nelson and Mrs. Nelson just for the sheer joyful fun of it.
I felt so secure, so completely cherished and appreciated in every way with Byron. His praise of my every little accomplishment, or sometimes just the way I walked, was unceasing. It occurred to me that, if we could only hear what God is saying to us, it would be like that, too—constant praise and gentle guidance when we needed it. Or occasionally it might be a stronger no when a temptation gets a little too strong for us to handle by ourselves.
KCWC is now scheduling interviews with Peggy Nelson. Contact Kathy Carlton Willis at WillisWay@aol.com for more information.
July 19, 2010 @ 6:23 am | Filed under: The Solid Rock,Uniquely Me
Seasons change. Life changes.
Babies are born. Kids grow up. Elders pass away.
Changes in the seasons are evidenced by the air we breathe and the scenery that surrounds us.
Life is changing, that much is for sure, and I’m working hard to accept each new change with the grace and dignity He would have me to. Change is like turning a page on a fresh book…and each new chapter is beckoning me, calling my name.
I’m a daughter, and I’ve felt a subtle shift these past days as I’ve ached to shield my mom from the pain of loss and grief. She is the mother, and yet I have mothered, wanting nothing more than to protect her…knowing all the while that there is simply no such thing in these circumstances.
I’m a mother, and yet this chapter, too, is changing. I used to hear my name called regularly to kiss a skinned knee or soothe away those things that frighten in the still of the night. Now I’m called and it’s their voices –so familiar and yet now so deep and manly–asking me how I’m doing. We’re balancing family nights with talks about life.
The thing that doesn’t change is the fact that God stays the same. No matter what is going on, He is there.
He stands guard over the seasons.
He will protect and shield my mother in ways that I simply cannot.
He will continue to guide my children, watch over them, be with them, even when they’re far away me.
Whatever changes I face, I trust that God is already there, waiting as I walk through each step. He guides me, loves me.
And with each change I’m learning to trust Him more.
February 23, 2009 @ 8:56 am | Filed under: Motherhood,The Solid Rock
A few days ago I walked into the house at the end of a long day and sank onto the couch, kicked off my boots, and launched into filling Mike in on all the details. He’s good at that; at knowing when I need to talk something through and – on this particular day – I think he realized long before I did that I was about to, indeed, talk something through. He pulled off his reading glasses like he does when he’s preparing to give his full attention to something and he listened.
It had been a full day, with classes, labs, a meeting, and then a late lunch with one of our sons. The many conversations – rich with nuggets of information that were still waiting for me to patiently mine through – played through my mind and skipped across my heart as I tried to convey it all to my husband.
After I had done the best that I could, he leaned over and simply looked me straight in the eye. “This is the answer to all those prayers.”
His words stopped me and I grew still.
In one single sentence he had managed to capsulize what my heart had been trying to wrap its arms around for hours. Sometimes I think it’s the prayers we pray the most; the ones we pray for days and weeks and even months that eventually become such a part of the fabric of our day. Much like brushing our teeth or getting the coffee ready to brew for the following morning. They simply become a part of us, so when they begin to be answered we don’t always recognize them.
My husband’s words took me back over the past months, to the countless times I’ve gone to my knees – the tears I’ve wept, the promises I’ve clung to, the prayers that made their way from the farthest reachest of my soul at some of the darkest hours of the night…
In those times I imagined what this answered prayer would look like. I pictured it in my heart’s mind and I memorized it. I knew its lines, its depth, its weight. I knew its color, its shape, the way it would look, sound, taste, feel and behave.
But you see, that’s the great thing about my God. He is the ultimate in delivering surprises. When He answers prayers, He takes great delight in making sure that each package is unique; He wants it to be a one-of-a-kind, original in every conceivable way. I forget that sometimes; either that, or my mind is just not able to comprehend the magnitutude of what it is that He is all about.
This morning I do know He is all about loving His children. As much as I love my own children, He loves His all the more.
From that first moment a few days ago, when He began to answer this long-held prayer, it has been an almost non-stop process since. Each day, more and more of His plan has unfolded and I am in awe of Him. I would never have imagined this answer. It looks nothing like I imagined. Feels nothing like I imagined. Sounds like nothing that I had imagined.
That makes it all about Him, and not at all about me.
And that makes it absolutely perfect.
answered prayers, faith, Family
February 4, 2009 @ 7:00 pm | Filed under: The Solid Rock,Uniquely Me
You hem me in—behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain. Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.” –Psalm 139:5-8
___________________________
This time of the year, there seems to be so much to do, so many places to go, so many conversations, so many faces.
There are thoughts of plans for the new year, and recollections of the failures and successes in the last. Ups and downs. Twists and turns. Starts and stops.
And through it all, Jesus is right there. Right here.
Waiting. Dispensing strength. Loving me.
There is no where too far for the reach of His hands.
At the end of the day all I really want is to crawl my way back home and huddle in the safety of His arms.
That’s where I find my strength.
True strength.
The really great thing about His arms? There’s room enough for us all.
June 2, 2008 @ 1:24 pm | Filed under: Soul Food,The Solid Rock,Uniquely Me
When I was raising my boys, one nightly tradition was spending the last few minutes of each day reading to them. One of their favorite stories, and still one of mine, was If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.
If you give a mouse a cookie, he’ll probably ask for a glass of milk. If you give him a glass of milk, he’ll probably ask for a straw. If you give him a straw, he’ll most likely need a napkin.
On and on the story goes, taking the mouse through various household chores and activities until finally – spent and exhausted – the mouse takes a nap. When he wakes from the nap – sure enough – he’s hungry and…you got it…he asks for a cookie.
Some days are like that, one activity begatting the next, and so on and so on and so on.
I had a day like that a couple of weeks ago.
I had been looking forward all that week to sleeping in on Saturday, whatever that means for me. Lately I’ve been running on about five or six hours of sleep each night and – after a long and tiring week – I thought the idea of sleeping until 7:30 or eight sounded really good.
Instead I woke at around 5:30 and lay there, wide awake, until I finally eased from the bed and made my way through the sleeping house to the living room. Something deep within me was stirring, something that made me acutely aware of just what a blessed day it was.
The week had been long, it had been tiring, but I’d not only made it through, I’d made it through with the deep-seated knowledge that God was directing my footsteps and my actions; easing me slowly but surely through the long list of to-do’s and must-do’s until all the projects, all my work, and all the kid drama – everything was not only done, but done well.
I sat with my coffee and spent quiet time with Him – so thankful, so grateful, for His mercy and strength. The quietness and solitude of the room around me seemed to reflect the quietness of my spirit and it all felt so good.
At the tail end of a week where I’d spent energy like money and had run the gamut of emotions in dealing with life’s craziness I simply sat in my living room and reveled in the secure certainty that I am a God’s girl.
At the end of my quiet time I attempted to go online, only to find that our internet was down. And that’s when the if you give the girl her God type of a day really began. Feeling energized and close to Him, I prepared a full, nutritious breakfast.
Well-fed and feeling healthy, I went for my run. I felt so good after two and a half miles that I ran for four.
As I walked the last block home, I found myself studying all the neighbors’ yards, realizing that my schedule had not allowed me the flexibility to spend any amount of time on my own flower beds.
I saw Mike out with the lawn mower as I walked the last few steps to our house, and that clinched it for me. Already sweaty and slighty grubby from my run (even the tip of my pony tail was dripping) I decided to stay in my running skirt and get busy in the dirt.
And the day was officially started…
One by one, each activity seemed to only prompt the next. I spent hour after hour taking care of the things around the house that I’d let fall by the wayside in the full-on sprint that always comes at the end of another school year. When the day turned to night, I collapsed in the same spot as I’d spent my quiet time that morning. Somewhat tired again, but fulfilled.
Again I was quiet and reflective. Again I was filled with thankfulness for His care of me. Again I was very much aware of His mercy at work in my life.
On my own I am so weak. On my own I falter and question and – sometimes – whine.
On my own, I am just a woman. ONE woman.
I can only give so much as a friend. I can only instruct so much as a mother. I can only succeed so much as a student and as a writer.
I can only do so much.
But with Him…with Him all things are possible.
I may very well be a woman on the cusp of her midlife years.
But I very much feel like a little girl running into the arms of her God.
If you give a girl her God, she can do most anything.
