Monday, November 23, 2020

My Other Mom is Gone


I remember the first time I met her. My then-boyfriend had spent a bit of time describing his mother to me, but his description did not adequately prepare me for who she was. 

When I first saw her at the airport, I can still see her face to this day. It was stern but welcoming; however, I was not put off by her. I was never afraid of her and always felt comfortable around her. She was staring straight ahead, with perfectly coiffed hair with an outfit that displayed her status in this world. 

But it was her face that struck me. At first glance, she looked nothing like my husband; her complexion was similar to mine, and we were about the same height and size. It turns out these superficial commonalities cemented our bond over


Monday, November 16, 2020

The Comfort of Night


Is there ever a perfect time to launch a book? This week has taught me no. This book finally became a reality earlier this month, and I have all the emotions - overwhelmed, underwhelmed, and simply whelmed!

A couple of years ago, during Easter, I started to read the events leading up to Jesus' death in the book of John. While these events are recounted in all four gospels, John's version reflects that he was the disciple whom Jesus loved; there's extra emotion in his version, and also John is the only one who captured the words Jesus spoke to His disciples the night before He would be crucified.

These words came at a time when it was night for the disciples - both figuratively and literally. Judas was identified and broke the fellowship, and it was also night (John 13:30). As I read and re-read Jesus' words at this time, I began to realize that what he said provides a framework for living this Christian life. It's as if Jesus summed up His entire ministry in these hours before His death. 


Monday, November 2, 2020

A Thread of Unity

My mother was a seamstress. It was a joy in her life, something that made her proud but also made her happy. That she enjoyed creating beautiful creations was something that always resonated with me.  It's like my mom always had this mentality - creating beauty where few could see it and then hearing the praise because of her creations; she was a visionary - she saw it all along.

Whenever my mother sewed, the first thing she started with was a pattern. The pattern provided directions for cutting each piece, sizing, and stitching with the finished garment in mind. I found it intriguing, for I never imagined that a sleeve, for example, in a pattern could look so different than what I typically viewed as a sleeve. But as I watched her work, it made sense. She would clear the table, spread out her fabric, pin the pattern pieces to the fabric, then cut out the pieces. Then she would pin them together to get an idea of what the finished product would look like. 



Monday, October 12, 2020

Trauma Can Be Transformative

Trauma - it catches you by surprise, in bizarre fashion with unexpected costs. Trauma often sounds like a recipe for disaster, but it doesn't have to be. There's nothing you can do to prevent trauma; accidents happen, things go wrong, elbows are slammed into faces, and no plan of yours could have prevented this.

Yes, an elbow was slammed into my husband's face while playing a pickup game of soccer. Sometimes to stay fit, these things happen. I've had sufficient casualties as a runner, so I can empathize.