Tag Archives: love

No allegiance, save love

It was a beautiful night. I went to watch Molly cheer and the JV boys in black and blue play football.

Soon after my arrival, Molly hollered to me from the cheer platform that the Sharps were at the game. I had imagined as much as their youngest son plays for red team on the field.  It is Molly’s plan to be a  Sharp by marriage or adoption, either will do.

I made my appearance in our stands, checked on Molly’s hydration needs and made my way over to the far side of the  field.  I might have stood out in my lost and found black and blue sweatshirt as I approached the stands of red clad cheerers. I paid no never mind and moved confidently up the risers to stand before my dear friends’ adoptive three-year old. Her eyes lit up to see me, her arms reached out as I lifted her into my counter colored  arms. Her Dad and Mom grabbed me tight and drew me into a seat alongside theirs. Honestly, in such company, I felt more me, more home, than among my coordinating comrades.

I yelled for my future grandchildren’s possible papa more than most about me. Later, we girls wandered over to see Molly cheer, holding Danielle’s hands between us. The three-year old yelled as mightily for Molly, her usual Saturday night playmate, as she did for brother, Miles.

I walked them back and lingered amongst them as long as Mama Duties would allow. Miles played well , though he will also be black and blue today.  Molly’s colors scored many times more often, earned the “W.”

Today, of all days, is a good day for me to remember the lesson of last night and see through the eyes of a child.

“…  and a little child will lead them.”  – Isaiah 11:6


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the lucky one

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I’m finally going shopping…

I’m finally going shopping. My kids’ lists are short…they are getting older, and wiser. “Mama, we don’t really need…anything. Can we send some chickens, ducks or a goat to some World Vision kids?” (That makes me smile as a parent.) They don’t, Rob and I don’t…really need anything. We are so richly blessed…with a nice, safe home, a little money in the bank, Rob has a good paying job, working for someone he respects. I have a dream job, that affords me not a wardrobe straight off the racks at Ann Taylor, but the opportunity to be who I am and do what I do, to the glory of God, everyday with kids that I love.

My kids have food in their  mouths, every twenty minutes, and nice clothes. We have family who is healthy and that we get to see often. We have a church home that may be the very best imaginable.  We have good friends who have stuck by and with us for twenty years now, through all kinds of  trouble and difficulty and joy.

Yesterday, Rob, Trent and Molly, all suckers for just one more…brought home a little puppy from the hunting club. Someone had put its mama out there, probably pregnant with this little gal. We have a dog, cats, a mouse – gerbil- hamster, something, we probably have at least a few fish, in somebody’s tank; Spring will gain us many creek samples of species for my biologist son. I don’t need a puppy. But, that puppy needs us. So, maybe Christmas is turning itself upside down a little more as Miss Ann would urge, in the Sullivan home.

Last night, I fed many of my “other” kids. Some have been around our table a while, others came for the first, but I doubt the last time. Some of them have good homes, caring mamas and daddies…some…

But just like that little puppy, staring in my glass door, reminds me… there is always room, in this house that is not built for entertaining, but for loving…for one more.


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don’t feel the need to impress

I was talking about an ideal vacation: books, great food that I don’t cook, friends that I don’t feel the need to impress… there was more in that verbalization.

I’m trying, trying with all I am, to get to that place…the place where I don’t feel the need to impress, or even do my best. It’s not about me quenching my desire to care, to choose carefully my words. Words are arrows and all. They slay and wound with love. I am not renouncing my call to wield well.

But, there is a place – a dwelling – a moment between…  rarely known… with a safe, secure sentinel, in a  garrison of grace.

The strong listener who can hear, hold and not tremble.

Where… all impressions will be the marks of  bent and  twisted  characters. Contorted beyond recognition, I hope… I star in these long silenced stories.

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I have a friend who is seventeen…

I have a friend who is seventeen, and not.  She came to see me a while today. I love this girl, who lives a not so girlish life – it’s pretty dang adult, day in and out. Did I say I love her?

Anyway, I love this girl. She’s quiet about all she is walking through with someone. I can’t get her to talk to me about it much; I think that she needs to talk, to someone. But, when the knowing quiet between us gets heavy, she will cry. If I can get her to meet my eyes and exhortations of how loved and lovable she is, she cries. Not a sobbing, squalling cry…but tears that pour down from her eyes and soak her shirt.

Every time that her tears fall on me, I stop breathing, I am so overcome by the beauty of who she is. I am rattled and shaken and brought to awe.

I’ve written more about her in this blog than anyone else.  Every time that I see her, something forces its way up, out and onto here. Every time.

God, I love this girl, this girl that I really don’t know how to help.

I’m always the one helped by her coming. That seems so unfair.

But, time’s passing is her friend. Soon she can/will walk free of much of what she bears.

Not soon enough for me.

Did I mention how much I love her?

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We are getting it.

What I write about I don’t lose. I wish there were a way to encapsulate the weekend, to describe the atmosphere that we shared. It so seemed like we were in a pocket of God’s discernible presence the whole time. It didn’t matter what we were doing: whether we were awash in worship, hiking hillsides, feasting on favorite fare, diving down to murky depths, resting, talking, really talking to one another, playing and squealing in delight, or just being near.

We came into something, the thing that makes it all, all, worthwhile. We’ve come upon it. We can be -ourselves- our real selves – with one another. Everyone kept saying Friday night how good it was to be there, together. We aren’t afraid of tears anymore, we let them flow. We aren’t afraid to talk; we talk from our hearts. We aren’t afraid to love each other, to let each other know so. We are becoming unafraid. Love, the love of God that drives out all fear, is driving it from us.

I was sitting on the floor at Jerm’s watching for a moment. We had come back together from all over the property and were piled around the living room. And I saw it. The blessing, what Pastor Jay talked about the next morning, was flowing between us. Yes, the night before (Friday) the presence of God was enveloping… there was this safety, this sense of security that strengthened and steadied everyone. Everyone seemed so secure that they could be real (whatever that needed to be moment to moment)  with others around. Saturday, when we were singing, standing near and singing together around the piano, something began to shift in us, it wasn’t each of us there to worship, there was an “us” established. And it followed us to the park and up the hillsides on our fruitless quests, that were really about something more than any log book. We didn’t get aggravated, even under the physical and mental stress.  We made it fun, we enjoyed each other, now so much more aware of just who we travelled beside.

I think it is sinking into the kids, especially the Edgers, how very blessed we are to be in this, together.


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The door opened; kindness met her glance ’round… and on came  tears.

The kind make us safe. They overlook our faults and our failing, they underscore with thick black markers all that we have come to be. The gaps in us are as growth plates to them. They do not take no and never in our regard, they see past and far.

When I meet the eyes of the kind, so much rushes from me toward their embrace. One glance into me and I am laid by…

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