Faithful Friday: Fly Little Bird

Graduation morning. 

Sliced, homemade strawberry bread to surprise Tina

for her special day. 

Hot coffee and my seat by the back window,

Good Morning America on the tv.  I'm only listening to the news; however, as I've noticed a tiny bird hopping across the deck.

Squatting in determination, it tries several times to flutter on top of  the outside coffee table.  Hop, Hop....Flutter....Fall.

I realize this isn't a tiny bird, but is the last of our babies learning to fly. 

Whispering a quiet yell to the kids, I call them to join me to watch and we gaze, mouths open, as the bird flutters higher and higher, then eventually across the lawn.  An unexpected, sneak peek at beautiful life.

Our little birds, from ocean blue tiny eggs... to babies... to flight.   

Heading out the door to Tina's 8th grade graduation the symbolism hit me.  Just as we'd witnessed growth in life, our own "little bird" was reaching a milestone.  Now promoted to high school, our bird is now an eagle.

 

She's grown so much these past two years.  Blossomed.
And we can't wait to see her spread her wings as a freshman, as she starts this next chapter of her life.

"God bless you and keep you,

God smile on you and gift you,

God look you full in the face

and make you prosper."

Numbers 6:24-26, MSG

Making it through...

The Monday after Mother's Day. 

A sigh of relief.  The letting go of held in breath. 
Of pinching yourself so you wouldn't cry.  Of brave faces. 
Of broken hearts.

Mother's Day is not the same for any of us from days past.

How I treasure those early years of chubby fingers bringing me dandelions from the yard.  Of hand-print poems framed for the occasion.  Of clip on ties and crisp white shirts little boys wriggled in.  Of bear hugs and wet kisses.

Life is different now in our home.



Me & Mom - Mother's Day 2013



I inhale the sweet embrace of my towering teenage boy and say prayers of thankfulness for the son who remains.  Smiles come from seeing him help his dad cook dinner for me and sweep the floor.  Touched by the thoughtfulness of Tim pre-ordering me a made from scratch red velvet cake, my favorite.  Surprised by the rose and card from my loving momma, even though I arrived at her church to give the surprise.  Thankful for a meal provided by my sister's in-laws, who opened their home and shared the day with us.  Combined families, new faces, changes in tradition.  Heart tugs from the quiet but loving "Happy Mother's Day" from my niece with my good-night hug.

I'm grateful for the simpleness of the holiday, because life isn't a Hallmark commercial, and honestly, simple is easier on everyone.

Because here...

Mothers long for their babies, whether they've left this earth too soon, were never given the joy of being born into this world, or are grown but paying for mistakes and not around. 

Here...

Children long for their mothers, whether they've earned their wings from wrinkled age, or made bad choices that separated them. 

Here...

Mother's Day includes visits to a graveside to say I love you.  To a graveside that also includes a son and a momma's heart is broken over watching her husband waiver in grief and longing for what can't be.

Here....

There is silent pain in a little girl's eye.  Of what was and wasn't all at the same time and of what will never be.  A girl who always holds her breath in life, waiting for the next shoe to fall.  Who is afraid to let go and hit a pinata at a birthday party because every joyful moment she has was followed by chaos and pain.  Who's afraid if she breathes and lets go, this new life she's grasping onto will change again for the worse.  And an aunt who hasn't quite figured out how to fill that gap and patch up the hurting holes, so she treads lightly, but desperately wants to heal her pain.

Here...

We pray without ceasing through the day.  We're grateful for the blessings. And we soak up every joyful tidbit.  We laugh harder, when it comes, and tuck it away with gratitude. 

But here... we're glad when Monday comes.