Robin's Nest

“As the trees show us the beauty in letting go of their leaves, let us show the world our own beauty by letting go of all that holds us back from becoming who we truly are” ~ Siobhan Kukolic, “How Beautiful Letting Go Can Be” 

I’ve been told I have a non-anxious presence. Well, not lately. But, I’m  learning to let my peace shine again.

This inner calm, reflected outward, is part of our divine design and essential to our greater purpose. So it’s worth the fight. How do we get it and protect it?

We remember His Presence. Always here.

We remember His Promises. Always Faithful.

The tricky part is to apply these truths when we are tired or worried. Our human nature wants to give up and give in.  So, it takes work and persistence to invite Jesus’ Spirit into our mood or situation when we don’t feel like it.

But, that’s when it’s most important to pray. As we go about our day, in meetings, in traffic. In check out lines and in school pick-up lines. We keep the conversation open with the King of Kings. We “go to the throne before the phone.” Any time. Any place.

It’s a choice that becomes a habit which connects us to our truest source of help.

When anxiety ramps up my heart rate, I know I’m being too self-reliant. Like even now, as  it races to get this written and posted and I wish I hadn’t drank that second cup of Hazelnut coffee …

The greatest tool of our soul’s enemy is to  keep us focused on ourselves. Our our fears, our hurts, our rights, our plans. Then Boom. We’re anxious, worried, fretting. And we can’t let it go.

But, when we remember to surrender, we become less self-reliant and more Savior-reliant. When anxiety shows up, we recall Scripture and say it out loud or in our heads. We breathe and pray and let go of our need for control because it harasses our mind, creates dis-ease in our body, and steals our smile.

When we feel stress ratcheting up, may we turn to God’s Presence and Promises. As many times as it takes. May we protect our peace and be the shiny calm in this worried, hurried, and anxious world ☮🙏📜🦔

“Do not be anxious or worried about anything, but in everything [every circumstance and situation] by prayer and petition with thanksgiving, continue to make your specific requests known to God. And the peace of God which reassures the heart, that peace which transcends all understanding, that peace which stands guard over your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus is yours.” ~ Philippians 4:6-7 AMP

 

Check out one of my favorites: Jason Gray,  “I’m Gonna Let it Go”

Photo: Tree & leaves & designed by Dee Everson  https://www.artclassesbydee.com/peace    Put together by me 😎 Quote on picture: Anonymous

 

 

 

On my desk, draped over my printer, are two scraps of denim. I cut them from a twenty-year-old pair of jeans that were faded and frayed in just the right places. Perfect. Until a hole ripped wide open and exposed my chicken knee to the winter cold.

They’re now my favorite summer cut-offs. But what to do with these darn denim pieces?  I can’t throw them away. I tried. First, in the trash and then I tossed them into the bottom of my hamper where they sat for months.

Grief is weird, isn’t it?

It’s almost a year since my mom passed. While it’s still hard to look at her picture, my senses are wide open to her legacy. It’s quite simple and organic. And that’s where she sneaks up on me.

Like last week, when I used a spoon to get out bits of eggshells. When fruit flies flocked to my bananas and I mixed their death potion: water, dish soap, and apple cider vinegar. In summer recipes for cole slaw and potato salad and fall cooking of soups and apple crisp. And especially in our favorite guilty pleasure: the tater tot casserole Mom always took to our high school sports banquets.

So, a legacy lingers.

And I smile at how much we learn by osmosis.

This interweaving with people doesn’t just end. Especially with our parents. The connection started before we were born. It’s a beautiful mystery, isn’t it? Not just flesh and bone, but soul and spirit.

It makes sense that pain jabs the pit of our stomach. When we see a picture or hear a song or smell a smell. But, beside that ache, we sense something even more real and present: God is there. Wooing us and wanting us to trust His comfort:

My Child, I’ve got you. Rest. Feel. Grow. Pass it on.

So, what about these scraps of denim? I see Mom at her sewing machine transforming worn out jeans into cool stuff. Quilts and hats, overalls and purses. Whether in the kitchen, the garden, or at the dining room table, she was always mixing, painting, gluing, and growing something.

And I’m inspired to not just leave a legacy, but to create one. With intention. To live it out loud, right now.

Because now I see life more fleeting. More lovely. More difficult. More urgent.

I want to build a legacy and leave an inheritance that’s simple, ordinary, profound. Rooted in love and service and selflessness. One that sneaks up on people at just the right moment and makes them smile.

So, let’s invite Jesus into the ache before we sink too far into sadness or regret and wishing things were different. His earthly life shows us how to live and grow this paradox: To use our pain for good purpose.

“Living your legacy is … about showing up for your life, engaging in deeper, more meaningful ways, and making a difference.” *

May we love well and live now. 

Peace for your journey.

☮💕🖖🙏

 

*Author Sharon Olson, Living Your Legacy

Photo from http://pixabay,com

“Even more amazing than the wonders of nature are the powers of the Spirit.” Helen Keller

It’s been a while since I’ve shown up here. The pace of a good, busy summer took over for sure. Lots of family stuff and short trips to enjoy the outdoors.

As much as I love long sunshine-y days, I wholeheartedly welcome autumn. All of it. The colors and pumpkins, the leaves and cool air. I no longer have kids to shoo out to the school bus, but still, I sense a call to this  changing rhythm. To slow down and re-group.

Yes, please.

Because life is full. Full of life.

And some of it’s really hard stuff, right? On top of that,  there’s angst and complaints and honking and tail-gating all around us. Good grief, even gas pumps talk at us now.

Alongside this racket is ~ the other busy. The stuff we like to do. Even that can become noise. It all screams for our attention, fills our brain, sets our pace, and sucks our joy.

And we forget where to focus.

But, we’re called to rest. So, we remember to prioritize our peace. Our Creator set the seasons in motion knowing we’d need a reminder to slow down. To get away from empty, jarring noise because sometimes it’s all  just too, too much.

My friend used to say, in her sweet Alabama drawl, “We gotta keep the maaiin thang, the maaiin thang.”

Yes. The main thing: Jesus. The only way to stay rooted in God’s peace and presence.

That’s what we forget to remember when worry and busy-ness toss us around. When we get caught up in the habit of  being more like God’s employee than his cherished child.*

He invites us into this ancient rhythm of changing seasons. We slow down to get quiet, to remember he’s near, and to soak in his goodness. We re-set our priorities to see what Wisdom wants to teach us. To be grateful and content. To be still. Because, right in the middle of chaos, we find a calm center.

And we don’t have to look far to see his handiwork.

Autumn. This is summer’s exhale. The seasons’ re-set. I believe God is showing us he’s not random and that we are created on purpose for  good purpose.  He wants us to know we can trust him and that he wants to meet with us. But we  resist.  Maybe we’re just distracted. Either way, our peace is fleeting.

Let’s focus on our source of abundant life and power and peace: Jesus. He really is the Main Thing.

☮❤🌻

*Brian Wangler, https://www.c1naz.org/

Photo: Pixabay.com

 

 

Hey, Friends! Today, I want to share my story recently published in  Chicken Soup for the Soul: Grandparents. I pray your summer is going well and you’re able to get out and enjoy some fresh air and sunshine. Thanks for reading. Blessings & Peace 😎✌❤

 

There is a saying: Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That is why it is called the ‘present.’

~Oogway, Kung Fu Panda

 

My granddaughter Madison was three years old when my flower garden drew her in. She stood in front of a rosebush and leaned close. Cupping a Barbie-pink blossom with both hands, she nestled her face into its petals and breathed deep.

“Meema, your woses smell so so good.”

“Madison! Don’t smash it!”

I knelt in the dirt, yanking at weeds. The day before, I came home from a relaxing weekend trip to a cluttered home: toys tossed about the living room; wet towels on the bathroom floor; dirty dishes with last night’s dinner stuck to them.

So, the overdue weeding got to me. I have to do everything around here. I live with the laziest people on earth. And why am I raising my granddaughter? I, the victim. I, the under-valued. I, so sweet and blessed just yesterday at a women’s retreat. I.  I. I.

In the middle of my pity party, I realized it was a bit too quiet. Looking up, I saw a rosebush stripped almost bare. My face flushed hot. I was about to get angry.

But then I saw Madison twirl.

Her face was toward the sun and her pigtails stuck straight out. With little arms raised and her palms to the sky, silky rose petals fluttered from her hands and floated to the ground. Shades from pink to white blanketed the brown mulch and wound around the other nearly naked bushes. Dizzy from her dance, Madison wobbled and then steadied herself. Her eyes were wide-open as she admired her work.

“Oh, Meema. Isn’t it bee-u-tee-ful?”

Watching my granddaughter changed my toxic thoughts. My self-focus and snarky attitude lifted. I saw my brown-haired, blue-eyed little burst of energy as a gift. Though it was sometimes difficult and exhausting, I was blessed to tuck her in at night with stories, hugs and kisses while her daddy was deployed with the Air Force. It was a privilege to say the words she wouldn’t hear from her biological mother, who left because she wasn’t ready to be a parent.

“Yes, Madison Grace. You are absolutely beautiful.”

Like the weeds in my flower garden, life’s messes can distract me from what’s most important. If I’m not careful, in a nano-second, my blessings become burdens. When it’s all about me, I whine and blame and complain about my plans, my comfort, my happiness. But a me-centered world is quite small, and it yanks the joy right out of life.

I’ve heard, “Life isn’t made of years; it’s made of moments.”

My moments with Madison remind me to grab life with both hands, breathe deep, and be thankful. To not let difficult challenges choke out the everyday blessings. I’m reminded that roses grow back, and children grow up. Boom. Just like that. And it’s so easy to miss it.

Sometimes, I still mumble and grumble. But each morning and throughout the day, I aim to choose right thoughts and attitudes. I pause and breathe a prayer because I do not want to miss one more priceless moment.

 

 

http://Image by <a href=”https://pixabay.com/users/JillWellington-334088