Sep 26, 2012 |
Dear Amy,
You don’t know me, but from what I’ve heard in the past two weeks, we would be good friends. I’m a childhood friend of your brother-in-law, Dan.
It was just over two weeks ago that I heard from a friend that his brother passed away.
No. That’s not right.
It was just over two weeks ago that I heard your husband was shot and killed in the line of duty.
Since then, I’ve cried. I’ve prayed. And I’ve paid attention. I’ve wondered what it must be like to be you: a mom with four young children, left alone. Dan has shared your strength and faith with me and with many. And I see that while you are now without your husband, you are definitely not alone.
The Community has really reached out to help you. And it inspires me. It’s what a Community is supposed to do.
I pray for you and your kids every day. I hope you don’t feel terribly alone. I pray that God’s arms are supporting, comforting, and protecting you.
I wish I could be there with you. I wish I could get to know you and your kids. I’ve heard stories of how strong and wonderful and considerate you all are.
We’ve suffered some losses in our lives, but I don’t equate those with your loss. Ours was outside the immediate family. And even though I have an inkling of your pain, it can’t compare to what you’re really going through.
I want to say, I’m sorry. I’m sorry there are people in the world who have no hope. Who feel they have no support and no reason to live. I’m sorry they feel the need to take out their anger, depression and frustrations on those around them. I’m sorry the world is so confused, and your husband had to pay the ultimate price.
But I’m so thankful your husband paid the price. I’m so thankful to know that there was someone out there willing to put his life on the line no matter what. Willing to help others before himself. And willing to share his faith with all who would listen.
Your husband is no longer physically here, but his legacy is. And I’ve been so touched by reading stories on his Facebook page, and reading your own postings.
You, Patrick, and your children are so very inspirational. I’m so sorry it took his loss for so many in the world to see that, including me.
But I want to thank you for the encouragement you have personally given me. You don’t even know me but you have encouraged me to keep going. To not give up. To not be selfish. To love. To forgive. To move on.
No. Matter. What.
You are a remarkable woman. And we would be great friends, I just know it.
So if you’re ever in my neck of the woods desert, I’d love to offer you a great cup of coffee and get to know you better.
Until then, I’m just so sorry for your loss, and wish there was so much more I could do.
With love, hugs, and many prayers,
Molly Jo
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
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This post is linked up with Pour Your Heart Out at Things I Can’t Say.
Aug 29, 2012 |
Many years ago, when Dot was just an infant, I met a woman named Corrie. A remarkable young woman, named after another remarkable woman. My Corrie was named for Corrie Ten Boom. Corrie Ten Boom was a Dutch Christian who, with her family, hid Jews from persecution during World War II before being arrested. If you haven’t read her story, I strongly encourage you to do so. “The Hiding Place” is her autobiography, but she also wrote many other books and spoke often of her experiences in a Nazi Concentration Camp.
My Corrie is just as bold, outspoken, tender and friendly. Although we don’t see each other much, she still holds quite a dear spot in my heart. She and her family are integral to mine. My daughter and her niece have been close friends since before either can remember. They think they “met” each other in second grade, and a few weeks later I recognized the niece’s parents. The girls had actually been playmates as infants and toddlers before Corrie had moved to New Zealand and then Hawaii. After returning “home” for a number of years, her family has embarked on a new adventure near Las Vegas. Close enough to visit! It’s funny how God strategically places people in your life for years until you can really connect.
So you know I’ve been on a Housecleaning kick lately. That, and prayer. Boy, have we been praying. The new favorite motto around here is, “If it’s not one thing, it’s another!” On Sunday I woke up too sick to get to church. But I saw on Facebook from some friends that the passage Pastor Tom was teaching on was Jeremiah 29:11. This is my Life Verse. So it was comforting that a few people posted it online. With everything that’s going on around here, it sure is nice to know that God has a plan!
After a little while, I managed to get out of bed. I decided to check my emails, and had a Daily Verse sent to me by one of our Christian stations, Air 1. It was the same verse.
Then I checked my Daily Bible app on my cell phone. Guess what. Same verse.
I’m thinking God wants me to not worry about the upcoming week, yah?
As with every day since I cleaned house a few weeks ago, I try to accomplish one Writing Task (Not Blog Related). So far I’m doing well. Tonight I decided to sort through the last remaining paperwork. I had taken all my old notes and scraps and put them in the cat pillow decorative box.
But I hadn’t sorted it out yet. So tonight I did. While Dot printed off her Biology homework, I began a trip down Paperwork Lane.
And I’m so glad I did. I found a few cards and news clippings that I definitely want to keep. Tossed some old notes that are useless. And was reminded of several other story ideas for when Megan and I are finished with our nine (or more) book series.
And I found this bookmark. I’d been looking at the Pansy flowers often when I opened the box, but the bookmark was paperclipped to some old notes I hadn’t looked at yet.
Can you see how Pansies look like Angels with their arms outstretched, and their lovely flowing gowns?
Tonight, I unclipped and turned it over, recalling that I’d see a note from Corrie. I’d long ago forgotten exactly what she’d written. And tonight, I was reminded of love from her, and Him.
I don’t remember exactly when Corrie made that bookmark for me, but I know it’s been at least 15 years. It’s always been one of my treasures, and now it’s holding my place in my Bible.
Thank you, Corrie.
With (heart),
Molly
What a wonderful way to end the day.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
You may also enjoy reading:
More or Less: 29 Words
What I Learned on Women’s Retreat [The Big Whammy!]
Dear God, Did You Forget About Me?!
A Good Name
God is Unfair!
I’ll Fly Away
“He loves me. He loves me not.”
Mar 3, 2012
You know that still, small voice we all have in our heads?
Yeah. Notsomuch.
Mine decided to shout at me over the last 36 hours.
And I’m so glad it did.
Once or twice a week, I get together for an early morning Starbuck’s with my VIP Julie. We talk about our kids, her husband, my writing, life, God, coffee, cooking, the weather… we talk and talk and talk and when we’re done… well, we’re never done. So we get together often. At least we try.
Last week we each cancelled so Monday was going to be our first Girl Talk Time in two weeks. You know we were chompin’ at the bit to meet up with over 300 hours of what I like to call “shtuff” to talk about. We usually have less than an hour and that wasn’t enough so we set another meet up for yesterday.
But when yesterday came, my heart wasn’t in it. I really just wanted to cancel. But then I’d miss hearing how this story ended or that one began and all the in-betweens. So I sent her a text. We have it down to a science. One sends “Starbucks?” and the other replies either “Yup” or “Can’t”. We save the rest for the face-to-face chat. Yesterday, I initiated. And to my surprise and relief, her response was the negative. She forgot she had another appointment, so we rescheduled.
I was relieved. Because I really was tired. And had errands to do. So this worked out fine for me. And I didn’t feel let down. The fact that I made the effort even when I didn’t really want to, made me feel better. I heard that still, small voice get louder. I heard it cheerfully say, “At least you tried!”
Today I had grand plans to leave resumes all over town. Due to a minor comedy of errors my schedule went kablooey (technical term, that is!) and I was only able to drop one.
There it was again. “At least you tried!” I felt good about my efforts. Even if it doesn’t show. Even if I’m still unemployed. Even if potential employers aren’t looking at my resume this evening. At least I tried. And in that, I find satisfaction and completion. I can’t make anyone hire me. But at least I can get noticed.
It’s the same thing with my writing. I may not be a Nobel prize winning poet. I’m okay with that. Maybe my books won’t sell in the millions and buy me a mansion. While that would be okay with me, it’s not the end of the world if it doesn’t happen. It’s not the end.
And that’s when it hit me. It’s not so much crossing the finish line that defines a person. It’s how we get there that counts. I have a brand new understanding of being told that adage as a kid, “It’s not whether you win or lose. It’s how you play the game.” I never truly got that before. But now I do.
And I’m determined to play hard and authentic and genuinely. I’m determined to play the game.
Because the end result just means there’s a new goal. It never really means the end. So why not make the most out of getting there? I can’t even start the race if I don’t get out of bed. So I have to at least try.
I’ll never be published if I don’t write the book.
I’ll never find a day job if I don’t go out and look.
… well, I didn’t mean for that to rhyme, but as long as I’m at it, here’s a new one.
I’ll call it Journey:
If I fail, I learn from mistakes.
If I win, the glories I’ll take.
Step One is to plan.
Step Two is to try.
Okay, seriously. I can’t seem to focus enough to finish this great little inspirational poem right now. But you know what’s going through my head?
No joke.
You got it.
At least I tried.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
