Tag: #lifelessons

Vantage Point

Posted on by mrsmonarch

So much of life is about perspective, don’t you think?

I was reminded of that just recently. I was playing on a soccer field with my grand kids. Nothing too formal. We were just kicking the ball around and having fun.

The day was sunny but cool. You could tell fall was just around the corner. As I looked out across the expansive field, I could see a man on a zero turn mower off in the distance, zooming back and forth, cutting the grass for what would most certainly be the last time of the season.

I couldn’t help but shake my head sarcastically. What a waste of city funding. Anybody could tell the grass wasn’t in need of cutting. After all, it was already browning and patchy in spots. All he was going to do was stir up a dirt cloud!  ‘What an absolute waste of time and tax-payer money,’ I thought to myself.

(Admit it. That’s about as dying & brown as it gets. Right??!)

Then I heard it— the excited squeal of one of my sweet grandchildren.

“MiMi! Come look! They’re so pretty!”

“Pretty?” I thought to myself. “How on earth is dying, brown grass pretty?”

Of course, I didn’t SAY that out loud or anything. I did what any good grandmother would do. I allowed my excited little grandson to grab me by the finger and lead me — not so gently— towards a section of grass about twenty feet from where I’d been standing.

“Look MiMi! Look! They’re so pretty!” he exclaimed.

Suspiciously, I looked down. More dying, brown grass.

“No MiMi! You can’t see them from up there! You have to be down HERE!” he chided.

Now friends … I’m 5’6” so my vantage point wasn’t terribly far from his! What on earth was he seeing that was so spectacular that I couldn’t see from such a limited distance away? I let out a weary sigh but conceded. He pulled me to the ground and pointed.

There… amongst the dying brown grass was… the most beautiful collection of tiny white flowers! This is literally the same picture from earlier. I simply expanded it. These beauties were there all along!!

Each was shaped like a four-sided star, and… upon closer observation, each tiny petal was lined with rows of soft hairs. White stamens protruded from their centers. There weren’t two or three… or even ten of these little beauties. There were dozens! Each tucked down between blades of dying, brown grass— on a soccer field that was trampled by gaggles of cleat-wearing children multiple times a week!

I have no idea how these fragile looking little blossoms survived in such an unwelcoming environment. But the sight of them brought a smile to my face.  As I ran my fingers through my grandson’s sweaty hair, I was prompted to offer a moment of silent gratitude. Had he not persuaded me to stop and change my vantage point, I would have missed the wonder of the moment right in front of me!

Life can become like that so easily if we allow it! We get busy; tired; perhaps even a little lazy. We grow old— not in body but in mind. We often lose our child-like wonder and our appreciation for the “little things” is pummeled to death by invaders like “schedules”, “responsibility” and the “pressures of life”.

I struggle with those things, too— but on this particular day, I was reminded that surrendering to them is a choice! We can just as easily CHOOSE to nurture that child-like appreciation for the “little things”. It starts with where we allow our mind to go and ends somewhere on the self of priorities.

We aren’t victims of our busy schedules. More accurately, we are merely the result of what we focus on! No wonder so many of us are sick, depressed, anxiety-ridden and lacking the energy to get through our day. If our mind is fed a diet of negativity and our bodies are depleted of real food, physical movement, quality down time and good sleep, what other results should we expect???

We all know these things, so I’m just “preaching to the choir” here. I know these concepts and yet— continually lose sight of them, so I thought maybe I’m not the only one who needs reminding? So friends, here’s a simple piece of counsel. Stop and smell those flowers (literally AND figuratively!) Make conscious, intentional choices to eat better, to get some sunlight; go for a walk; make time to laugh and refresh yourself —daily.

It takes effort. It requires commitment. It will be an investment of your time as well. But I am a firm believer that we each make time for what we believe is important. Be determined to see past the dying, brown grass to find the tiny little flowers of life. I promise you’ll be grateful you adjusted your vantage point!

 

Until Next Time,

 

 

Elijah and the Ravens

Posted on by mrsmonarch

Hello my friends!

It’s been a long time— and I hate that. But “life” really got in the way of my personal goals this year.  That seems to happen to me a lot— but this time, I found myself neck-deep in a commitment that literally sucked the life from me and there was simply nothing left to offer anyone or anything else. The BuiltToBeAButterfly site was one of MANY casualties. In fact, I came very close to not renewing the website last December. If it had not been for the selfless contribution of a dear friend, the BuiltToBeAButterfly site would have died. (Thank you, Gloria, for being faithful to what our Creator placed on your heart!)

Part of me feels this excruciatingly painful “need” to apologize to you guys for my “failure to produce”.  But— the part of me that has been wrung through the wringer this year has finally had enough of my self-condemnation! THAT part of me has stood up, stomped her feet and declared, “It’s a FREE website! There’s no access fee. You offer what you can, free of charge, as you are able! People can’t get angry that you’re not dishing out enough free content!” (Oh, but they CAN— as some of the emails I’ve received prove. But that’s another story! haha!)

Let me just stop here and say— It’s been a tough year. Thank you for giving me Grace and sticking around. Now without further rambling, let me get on with today’s feature! It’s a radically different spin on an age-old bible story. Perhaps it will make ya’ think a bit. It certainly did me!

I’m going to title this one: Elijah and the Ravens

As some of you know, I spent a lot of time working in Wyoming this past year. The week before I headed back home, I finally got to visit Yellowstone National Park. It was only a quick day trip and with so much awe inspiring beauty hitting me at once, there’s probably a lot that I missed. But what I didn’t miss were the RAVENS.

As we drove through the park on the way to Old Faithful Inn, we were caught in construction traffic. Normally, that kind of thing just drives me batty! But this time, something unusual caught my eye. This enormous, shiny, blue-black bird, with an impressive black beak and piercing eyes landed on the road just feet from our car! Now I’ve seen blackbirds, and I’ve seen some pretty big crows in my day… but I had never seen any thing quite like this! This fella stood every bit of two feet tall and made it a point to strut back and forth next to the car, tilting his head and looking at me the whole time. I was mesmerized. So this was the bird who talked  in Edger Allen Poe’s famous poem, huh? Hmmm….. This guy looked like he might have had a lot to say!

By the time we got to the Inn, I had forgotten about the bird. We hustled to see Old Faithful, which was expected to blow soon. Rushing down the path, I heard a strange noise. I looked up and there— high above me on the branch of a large fir tree— was… yes… another gigantic raven, peering down at me. I stopped in my tracks and made eye contact with him. He was a commanding sort of presence; hard to ignore— even when rushing to watch Old Faithful.

At the lodge, there was another, and as we made our way back to the car, there was a fourth! All were impressive; HUGE, shimmering, magnificent creatures, unlike anything I had seen before.  We saw lots of beautiful sights that day, but nothing impressed me quite like those Ravens.

Fast forward another week. We are making the (very long) drive back home and those ravens kept coming to my mind. You guys aren’t going to believe what happened next. I mean—seriously— I barely do! I am literally in a daze, thinking back on the impressive stature of those birds when… I look up and see we are driving right past this giant statue of a bird. And not just any old bird—- a RAVEN!

I insisted my husband turn around. I had to get a better look! You can tell how tall it is by the flag pole behind it. I was absolutely fascinated. What kind of town erects a statue of a giant raven? The town of Ravenden, Arkansas, of course! It’s a tiny spot on the map with probably not more than 500 people.

Now, in modern days, Ravens have gotten a pretty bad rap. They are presented as dark, foreboding creatures, some times associated with witches and evil. But that wasn’t always the case— and the founding fathers of the town of Ravenden obviously understood that! They knew that ravens were intelligent creatures which were used to do a good deed in Scripture!

They didn’t just erect a huge statue of a raven, either. They added a large marble inscription at its base which quotes 1 Kings 17. That is the amazing story of where God used ravens to feed the prophet Elijah during a time in his life when he was exhausted and greatly discouraged.

Now friends, that really got me thinking! Yes, it’s fascinating to think that Yahweh Almighty used birds to feed someone during their time of need. But… Where did the meat and the bread come from? Think about that for a minute.

I love making homemade bread! But it’s work! Even now, when I can run to the corner grocery store and buy flour and yeast,  it’s a day-long process! Think about how much more cumbersome it was to make bread some four thousand years ago! This is important— please hear me out. I want you to walk through this process with me! First, they had to clear the field, to plant the wheat. Imagine— you’re out in the baking hot sun, tilling the hard, rocky ground with the help of your old mule. Then, after months of waiting, you would have to cut the wheat by hand with one of those ancient scythes; and bundle it. Imagine what THAT would do to your manicure!  You would have to thrash the stalks to separate the wheat from the shaft. All this, and you still don’t have flour yet! You must find a large, smooth river rock to pound the wheat berries into powder. Oh yes— let’s not forget that while your bread is rising, you have to go cut your own kenneling for the fire!

Are you starting to get the picture yet? Making bread during the time of Elijah was no simple task!! Can you imagine the pride a housewife of that era would feel when she finally pulled a loaf of golden brown bread from her clay oven? She would have to feel an overwhelming sense of accomplishment!

So— how do you think she would feel to look up at the window sill and see some giant raven make off with her loaf of bread? Ponder that!

Now here’s something else to add to the scenario— it wasn’t just ONE bird—it was ravens—PLURAL. And they didn’t just bring Elijah bread once!! 1 Kings 17:6 states that these birds brought bread and meat— twice a day! Yep!!  The birds are out “collecting” goodies to sustain God’s prophet. And they did it morning and evening for what appears to be an extended period of time.

If you grew up attending a Christian church, you’ve probably heard this story many times. But I’ve never once heard a pastor ponder where those ravens got the bread. What did the poor, hard working mother feel like when she toiled so long and hard to provide for her family, only to have some bird make off with the fruits of her labor? I can’t help but feel sorry for this person. She would have had no way of knowing that these birds were using her efforts to feed a prophet of the Most High! All she knows is that her bread is gone and all of her hard work was for naught! She had to be soooo frustrated! Angry— maybe even at God! After all, why would He allow such a thing, knowing how hard she has worked?

So, what’s my point? Here’s where I’m going with all this: Some times God uses us— our money, our resources, our talents, our strengths, our hard work—-in ways that He doesn’t always make crystal clear. We may feel used up, taken advantage of, cast aside, or spent. We may spend a lot of energy whining and complaining about how a situation was unfair or pointless. But my friends— God NEVER allows a “pointless” situation to cross a believer’s path!

He doesn’t always give us the details of what He’s doing. He doesn’t always sit down and explain or ask our permission. But He truly does make all things work together in a way that brings blessing and benefit to His people.; even when we don’t fully understand His methods. You just never know. Maybe—like the bread bakers in Elijah’s day— He’s using you in a way that will alter eternity for someone and He just hasn’t revealed all the details to you yet! The thought has been helpful to me as I’ve walked through a challenging season and I pray that it encourages you as well.

 

Until Next Time,

Number Four on the Countdown

Posted on by mrsmonarch

This is part two of a five part series entitled “Five Truths I’ve Finally Learned”. If you find this a worthy read, please help me spread the word by sharing it with your friends & family.

If you missed the first post and would like to start there, here’s your link:

https://builttobeabutterfly.com/five-truths-ive-finally-learned/

Hello again my friends!

Most of us have quirky little “pet phrases” we use in our daily life. Those of you who know me well know one of mine is “growing opportunity”. I use it like this: “Ah yes, it seems I’ve, once again, stumbled onto a growing opportunity!”  Then I’ll laugh, shrug my shoulders and flash a half-hearted smile. 

I’m not completely sure what that phrase conveys to you… but in total transparency, what I mean when I say that is: “Wow. This is way outside my comfort zone and… it’s probably gonna’ hurt like HADES!” 

It’s funny how different something appears when a person pulls back the curtain and shows you their ugly truth isn’t it??! Yet my truth is… I use the phrase. A LOT. And I probably FEEL it even more often than I allow myself to SAY it. 

Yes! I am a person who has experienced a LOT of “growing opportunities” in my life time!  Some of them are the results of my own mistakes and sins; others are just because I am human, living in a less than perfect world.  

While there are multitude of reasons we experience these “growing opportunities”, there is one thing you can pretty much always count on: They are almost always painful— regardless of their cause.

I realize we live in a world were transparency isn’t encouraged. Occasionally, the words that I write might feel … “cringy”. Raw; a little too raw, perhaps. But I don’t see how the Father can be glorified with our spit-shined, squeaky-clean, false bravados. You see, if I present myself as having it all together, not only is that dishonest— but it also cheats my Creator out of the praise He should get for all of the things He has done in my life! After all, every good thing I am is merely a reflection of His Light shining through me! All the yucky stuff y’all don’t like?? Well… that’s the “real me”.

He isn’t glorified in our self-proclaimed perfection. In order for God to get the glory and praise He deserves, we have to be willing to come down off our high horse and get real with each other. That’s why I try to write with honesty— even when it’s personally embarrassing. I want y’all to see who He is and what He has done for me. So, in an attempt to do that, I’m going to divulge Number Four on my countdown of “The Five Things I’ve Finally Learned”.  Are you ready? Here it goes!

“A LITTLE DISCOMFORT IS REQUIRED”.

HA!! Yes, I’m laughing. Sorry—not sorry. It’s just that I’m envisioning the look on your face as you read that! Hahahaha. It probably wasn’t the earth shattering revelation you expected, eh? My guess is, no— it was nothing like what you anticipated. Still… it’s a very real truth. And, it’s a truth it took me an embarrassingly long time to discover! Allow me to elaborate…

Let’s be honest. None of us like discomfort, least of all me! But when I step back and take an honest assessment of my life, I have to admit that some of my most valuable life lessons came during a season of significant discomfort. I’ve spent a lot of time pondering why that is. Here’s what I’ve come up with:

As painful as it is to accept—-Growth doesn’t happen when we’re cozy and comfortable. We don’t want to hear that, but deep down inside, we all know it’s true.

Though we all long for ease and comfort, the fruit produced by a comfortable lifestyle doesn’t make us stronger. In fact, comfort tends to make us lazy… and weak! It makes us physically and spiritually complacent.  If that’s the case, it’s worth investigating whether or not a lack of comfort could have the opposite effect.

Okay. Maybe I’m the only one, but I have found that it is during those dark, scary, lonely, overwhelmed times when I am suddenly— and painfully— reminded how weak, frail and vulnerable I really am! It is during these times when I have to admit that I don’t have the answers. I don’t have the courage, I don‘t have the strength, the faith or the knowledge to solve my problem. That’s right. It’s during the tough times that I have been humbled.

The plot twist in that is— it is in this place of humbled humanity, where I am reunited with my Creator. That’s hard to admit, because I’d much rather say that I’m strong and faithful ALL the time! But unfortunately, that hasn’t always been the case. It is discomfort which is often the driving force for renewing my prayer life. It’s the catalyst which gets me back into His Word.

As embarrassing as that can be to admit, I think it’s really important to share. I don’t know what life is like for you at the moment. I don’t know the specifics of your trials and heartaches, but I do know that we each encounter challenging times every now and then.  I don’t think it’s necessary for us to like difficult times… but I do believe it’s valuable for us to see them as “growing opportunities”.

It has really helped me to see that discomfort often brings with it a chance for me to stretch, grow, and learn. It’s helped breed compassion in me. It’s helped me understand my fellow human a little better. Overall, I can see that it’s made me a better wife, mother, friend… and believer. Now, that doesn’t necessarily make the difficult times any less painful… but it does give those seasons redeeming value! So… call me crazy, but instead of running from them, perhaps we should start calling them “growing opportunities” and embrace them!

There you have it. A little discomfort is necessary; even beneficial.  It may not be the gold nugget you were hoping for, but I do hope it helps frame your next journey through the valley of discomfort with a ray of hope.

 

Until Next Time,

 

 

 

Five Truths I’ve Finally Learned

Posted on by mrsmonarch

This is part one of a five part series entitled “Five Truths I’ve Finally Learned”.

If you find this a worthy read, please help me spread the word, by sharing it with your friends and family.

 

Dear friends,

I want you to spend a few minutes pondering sounds that make you happy. What comes to mind? The ocean waves as they lap against a sandy beach? The clinking of wind chimes as they react to a gentle breeze? The cheery chirping of migrant birds, at your feeder announcing the arrival of spring? I love those sounds, too! But for me, there is one sound that beats all of those, hands down.

It’s the laughter of little children. It’s one of my most favorite sounds on Earth! I love the unbridled joy that radiates from their little faces. It’s sweet. Simple. Unencumbered by the heaviness that life often dumps in our laps as adults. Little children live in a realm of immediacy. Immediate Joy. Immediate sadness. They have not yet learned to hold back the tide of emotion that knocks us older folks down like waves at the sea shore. Little children aren’t embarrassed if they “snort” when they laugh. They don’t worry about who is making fun of them. They just LAUGH, unashamed and void of the social expectations that fence us in like a rusty barbed-wire cage.

How long has it been since you’ve allowed a child-like laugh to form deep inside your belly and escape your pursed lips? How many years have you strived to “keep it all together” for reputation’s sake, fearing that the “real you” wouldn’t find acceptance in the world you’ve created? How many years have you dressed the part you were expected to play, without regard to what it did to your soul?

Whatever your answer, the truth is… it’s been too long! That brings me to truth #5 on the count down of things I have finally learned:

              5. You don’t get to determine my value! And nobody gets to determine yours either!

 

That’s right. The way I laugh or dress… whether or not I choose to wear make-up or jewelry… If I adorn my body with tattoos or piercings… or wear flour-sack dresses that hang loosely from my shoulders and drag the ground— what’s it to you? I should not have to walk like you, talk like you, dress like you or even think just like you to be valued and worthy of your love. Likewise, the choices you make don’t need to vie for my approval. They simply need to be an honest reflection of who you are.  

An honest reflection. Did you catch that?? We must live a life that is honest— both with others, and ourselves!

My life, like yours, has been a series of moving from one season to another. As the circumstances in my life have ebbed and flowed, my hair style and wardrobe have changed right alongside my responsibilities and attitudes. I’ve been the teen in the “painted on” jeans, the conservative home-school mom in the blue jean jumper, and everything in between. But that whole time, I have always been “me”.

Well… except for those times when I was trying to earn the acceptance and approval of others! During those seasons, I remained a version of myself but never allowed myself to be fully—unapologetically— me. After all, being me, with all my flaws, was just too scary! What if someone discovered something about me that they didn’t like? They might… reject me! (Oh, the horror!)

Over the years, I developed this nifty little protective mechanism to thwart the pain of rejection. I rationalized that if I could just squeeze myself into the mold my desired group expected, they would “like” me and I could “belong”. All it took was… everything. All of the restraint, submission, swallowing-hard, and self denying I could muster. It always worked, at least for a while. Everyone loved me— except me!

It’s a pattern that started as a young child when I observed that “good little girls” behaved in a specific way and earned both love and approval, while those who went against social expectation were “bad little girls” unworthy of either. I learned quickly, and the lesson served me well growing up in the home I did. But the behavior patterns it produced made me extremely vulnerable to external manipulation. I was desperate to “people please” and terrified of disappointing those who “loved” me. It was almost as though I wore a blinking sign that told the world I would jump through hoops to gain its approval. This not only thwarted my personal growth as a young woman, it also made me an easy target for narcissistic personalities. Looking back, I can see that many of those unhealthy patterns lingered long enough to cause problems for my children as well.

Maybe I’m the only one out here who has allowed others to dictate what I should or should not look like; who I should… and should not be? But that’s unlikely. I believe it’s a pretty common pitfall for women in our society. It’s one of many lies we fall victim to. The lie tells us that if our husband loves us, we have value. If our children turn out “well”, we are good mothers. If lots of people like us, we must be a “good” person. If our house looks like a magazine cover, then we are great home-makers. If our social media presence has lots of followers, we are “successful”.  Blah, blah, blah…

But here’s the truth: Our value does not come from the friends we keep. Our marriage status is not a reflection of our worthiness. How our children turn out has as much to do with their personal choices as it does our parenting skills. And social media? Ha! Social media is such a fickle source of affirmation.  It’s a joke to think our value can be determined by the number of “likes” we get on a post.

My friend, when our value comes from these places, it can LEAVE with these places! The woman whose marriage fails must be a failure. The woman whose circle of friends excludes her is suddenly worthless. The mom whose children are struggling obviously did something “wrong” and all the sacrifices she made over the years were for naught. A messy house can’t provide comfortable shelter or a satisfying meal.

Y’all know that’s not true!

The truth is— Our value comes from the Most High. He determined our worth long before our soul merged with our physical body. We are the daughters of the King of the Universe. That is the position we are born in to— and die in to. It’s the only thing that will never fail us! It isn’t dependent on who we are married to, who approves or disapproves of us, who wants to play with us or who hates our guts!

The Creator placed a label on us that declares us “IRREPLACEABLE. ONE OF A KIND. WORTHY OF SENDING HIS SON TO DIE ON OUR BEHALF. LOVED— FOREVER” — without regard to whether or not we “snort” when we laugh!  No one in Heaven– OR Earth –can place a “sale tag” on what God Himself calls Priceless—UNLESS we, ourselves, hand them the Price Gun….  

Girlfriend, I want you to remember that!

It’s taken me a life time to finally start applying this truth. Along the way, I’ve had to make a lot of changes, and even let some highly contemptuous people go. Though I still appreciate a kind word, I no longer live for other people’s praise— and I don’t die on the altar of their criticism either! The Almighty Creator sets my value now, and the price tag He’s placed on my forehead declares me “Unique. One of a Kind. Dearly Loved, Highly Valued, and Priceless Beyond Measure”. This chick won’t ever let herself be placed on the “clearance isle” again, and neither should you!

Please Tune in next time for part 4 in the countdown of Five Truths I’ve Finally Learned!

Until Next Time,

Clouded Vision

Posted on by mrsmonarch

Hi Friends!

I was traveling through the Atlanta airport last week. I entered my plane, buckled myself in to the seat and slid the window shade up so I would be free to view the city from a fresh, new perspective. I took a deep breath. Take-off is my favorite part of flying. The views are always so incredible!

Well…. Except this time. 😐

This time, the plane took off and almost immediately entered a cloud bank. There was no incredible view. In fact, the clouds were so thick, I could barely see the tip of the wing. (That picture on the left was my actual view.)

It wasn’t anybody’s “fault”, it was simply a matter of circumstances; a conglomerate of scientific events I don’t understand, much less have the knowledge to explain. All I really knew was that my favorite part of the trip was being ruined– and there was nothing at all I could do about it.

I’ll just cut to the chase and be honest here. I was mumbling under my breath. 🤑 Instead of being thrilled about my journey… or grateful that we live in an era where modern instruments would still keep us safely in the air— I was throwing an internal tantrum of “cranky five-year-old” proportions. All I wanted was a good view!

Alas— just as I was finally making peace with the situation, the clouds cleared. The sky brightened, the sunlight glistened off the silver wing tip. The clouds which once obscured my view were suddenly white and puffy.

It was the same seat, on the same plane, in the same airspace — but the pilot had climbed to a higher altitude, and in the blink of an eye, the scene from my window changed. Suddenly, every thing was beautiful again!

A smile crossed my face. I know a lesson when I see it! 😊 The sun was ALWAYS there. It was just obscured for a short while. A change of altitude revealed what the gray sky had temporarily hidden from me.

Life can be like that, you know. Our way can seem clouded and uncertain; bleak and scary. Obscured by rough patches we can’t clearly see through. There are often “clouds” or even storms to contend with— but we can’t allow the scenery to intimidate us.The situations we find ourselves in can change quickly. Radically!

Some times our “altitude” changes. We push passed circumstances and grow— stretching our vantage point a bit. Other times, a strong wind may come up out of nowhere and push the fog away for us. (Thank you, Father!) But inevitably, the clouds in our life will eventually part. The sun will shine and the view will change. It’s part of the ebb and flow of being alive.  It’s funny that it took 15 minutes in the clouds to remind me of that!

Until Next Time,

Choices

Posted on by mrsmonarch

Hello my friends!

A couple of months ago, an event occurred in my life that has had a ripple effect. It’s taken a while for me to process through the many layers of emotion it brought about. Much like an onion, I’ve had to peel away at it, layer by layer, shedding a few tears along the way. I think I am finally ready to share the experience with you, though I give you fair warning—it’s quite different than most of the cutesy, feel-good things I write.

I’ll spare you all the boring personal details of the “who, what, when and where” and get to the nitty gritty. I set off on a journey, with the intent of doing something nice for someone I am close to. But when I arrived at their home, I found myself in a very uncomfortable— and potentially dangerous— situation. There was a third-party there that evening; someone I have had negative encounters with many times before. Everything in me bristled. I wanted to leave—but my friend begged me to stay. She had planned for us to watch movies and share snacks. She’d really put herself out. Plus, it was her birthday and I hated to disappoint her.  So, I fought back the pulsating waves of common sense and settled in for the night.

As the evening progressed, the situation I had been concerned about continued to disintegrate. Before the night was over, I found myself in a life-threatening situation that was completely unacceptable.   You see, the “third party” in the home that night is an addict, who had seriously over medicated himself and become a raging lunatic. He was throwing things and cursing up a storm. Seething frustration welled up inside him and bubbled over. About that time, he tore his shirt off, threw it to the ground as if to challenge me. He began beating his chest like a giant, silver-back gorilla.  All the while, he was screaming at me to shoot him!

If it sounds like an insane course of events— it was.

So by now, are you probably asking yourself why on earth I would walk into a situation like that? And if I hadn’t known in the beginning it would be like that, why I didn’t leave the moment things started to unravel?! Those are fair questions.

Well, my friends— not all things are clear and simple. We each have a filter we run our experiences through. A clean relationship filter gives us the ability to accurately assess a situation and quickly determine if it meets our relationship criteria. Oh… but a dirty processing filter is like driving a car with a filthy windshield. It blurs our vision, making it virtually impossible to safely navigate the roads of life!

And mine? Well… I have come to realize that my filter —the way I process human interaction—needed a serious cleaning! That’s the only sane explanation. People with healthy boundaries and clearly defined rules of engagement don’t allow themselves to be boxed in to interactions like that. It’s just that simple!

But I wasn’t ready to accept that a few months ago. I just kept pretending that if I tried a little harder, put myself out there a little more, kept pretending things weren’t as bad as they were… well… then eventually, the scene in front of me would change. Now that is the very definition of a dirty filter! I just didn’t want to see it that way…

You see, that raging lunatic— he’s my kid brother. And worse yet? The “friend” who begged me to stay— in spite of how insane the situation had become—she was none other than my elderly mother.

I know. I started off saying that the “who” didn’t matter, but the reality is— it matters. A LOT. Dear friends, you should never have to feel unsafe. EVER. Particularly not in the home of close friends and relatives. They should be your first line of defense; your “go-to” people when you have a need. So yes. The “who” matters. If I can’t face the ugly facts, what kind of a hypocrite would I be to expect more of you?! That’s why I’m bringing this story to light.

When I told my mom that I was uncomfortable staying in the house any longer, she offered a solution—“Go into the bedroom and lock the door. He won’t bother you there!” I was so dumb-founded by her response that I stood there with my mouth wide open but no words would come out. Why on earth would I stay over night in a house that required me to sleep behind locked doors?? My mother grew up in an abusive home. She knows better than to encourage behavior like that.

I remember looking over at my dad, who was standing two feet away from me while this barbaric scene unfolded. He had always been the voice of reason in an otherwise dysfunctional house. I expected him to say something— DO something. But he just stood there, looking down the steps at my brother with the strangest look on his face. I’m not sure what mixture of emotions he was feeling. He didn’t seem consumed with fear. Perhaps, looking back as a parent myself— it was sadness. Despair. Defeat. Hopelessness.

I don’t know because we don’t talk about those kinds of things in my “family of origin”.  As a side note here, I want to say that I really like that term, “family of origin”. A psychologist friend of mine gave me that one! I like it because it helps me distinguish between the family I came from (and had no choice in) and the family that I have built and created for myself, as an adult. There is a huge difference— and I make the distinction every chance I get!  

I was faced with a really difficult situation that night. It was one I didn’t want and one I did not bring on myself. Yet it forced me to make a choice. I had to ask myself if I was going to deny reality and pretend there was nothing wrong, or… if I was going to take a stand against the insanity that has hoovered over my family of origin for decades.

I took a deep breath. Whatever choice I made, I knew it would be “expensive”. You see, we have an unspoken rule in my family of origin. We don’t speak about dirty things like addiction, especially not when it comes to my brother’s ‘problem’. Breaking the rule makes him “feel bad” and has serious consequences. On the other hand, getting into a physical brawl with my brother, who out weighs me by fifty pounds, probably wouldn’t end well either! What’s a girl to do???

My wild-eyed brother was blocking the front door, still screaming and beating his chest. I had to threaten to call the sheriff before he wised up and cleared my path. It was a call that I was absolutely prepared to make. Thankfully, even as stoned as he was, I guess he could see that. He snarled, bent over to retrieve his shirt and stormed off to another room.

I begged my parents to leave with me, but they refused. They said they couldn’t /wouldn’t leave him like that.  If all that wasn’t bad enough, my mother turned on me that night, and screamed nasty things at me for daring to take action against my own brother. I knew the rules! How dare I threaten my brother with consequences for his behavior! I was a guest in her home!! I “had no right to call the sheriff,” she screamed. Didn’t I know that would get him in trouble?! My dad? He stood stoically silent through the entire ordeal.  He never said a word. Not one word. To me, that was the worst part of all of it.

Whew! O…….kay now. Where do I go from here??! I’m known the world over as “the Butterfly lady”… the lady who always tries her best to strengthen, encourage, and inspire others through her simple, light hearted analogies. So really— where do I go from here??! This is anything but light hearted!!

Well my friends— this one has been really close to home and painful to write about. But I believe with my whole heart that any experience can birth something useful. My painful life experiences are not exempt from that truth. So, here’s where I’m taking this…

I want to talk to you about Choices. The situation I was in left me with a choice to make. My brother made a choice. My mom made a choice. My dad made a choice. We each made choices that evening. Mine ended with me rushing down the stairs and out the front door as fast as my legs could carry me. I haven’t been back since. My mother has chosen to continue to pretend there isn’t a problem. My father has chosen to remain silent. My brother? He’s chosen to continue to blame everyone but himself for his current life circumstances.

I don’t like the choices they made. I don’t think they were right, or fair, or justified. I don’t even think they were logical or sane! But the only choice I have control over is the one I made. Me. My choice. And I stood firmly and made my choice! My brother wasn’t going to bully me out of my choice. My mother wasn’t going to manipulate me out of my choice. And my father? Even amid grievous disappointment, I was not going to allow his silence to invalidate my value as a daughter or human being. Nor was I going to allow his silence to void my right to feel protected. And I absolutely was not going to allow his silence to quelch my choice.

Friends— I have a saying. It’s kind of crass considering I’m a “conservative, Christian, home-school mom”. (Geeze! I hate boxes SO much!) But the saying—however crass you feel it is— is still entirely true. Ready? Here goes: “So much of the time, people think we have a choice between ‘Good’ and ‘Sucks’. But that’s not always the case. Some times, we simply have to choose between Sucks and Sucks WORSE!” 😛 Was that crass? Probably. It’s also true! 🙂

And that was the case in this situation. I didn’t get to choose between “good”, “better”, “best”. I got to choose between “sucks” and “sucks worse”! 🙁 But at least I was finally brave enough to make a choice!

My choice didn’t change my brother. My choice didn’t wake my parents up. Their world is still every bit as dysfunctional as it was the night this happened. But my choice DID change ME! It kept me safe. It was a step towards establishing healthier boundaries in my relationships. It drew a line in the sand and clearly delineated what I would—and would not— accept.

And guess what? My world hasn’t fallen apart the way I have always feared it would if I broke the “rules”. In fact, there is a peace that has settled over me that I have never had before. Almost like a spell was broken.

Friends, it wasn’t easy—- but I am pleading with any of you who are in the middle of a chaotic, unhealthy relationship— even if that relationship is with a parent, a spouse, a child or your oldest, dearest friend— consider making a choice and getting free! If you need help finding resources to do that, please reach out to me via email. Remember—change always starts with a choice! And the choice is YOURS.

 

Until Next Time,

 

 

 

Where It All Began

Posted on by mrsmonarch

Ah… This is where it all began: “Just” a home-school mom with a limited budget, who wanted a fun science project that would excite her children. Humble beginnings, huh??! (I’ve come to realize most really awesome things start like that.)  🙂 

The tiny eggs hatched into hungry caterpillars. Within a few weeks, the little fellas had grown from minuscule to as thick as a man’s thumb. And then? When my children and I awoke one morning, our little caterpillars were gone and all we saw were five chrysalis, dangling from the top of our butterfly cage.

Over the next few weeks, we observed those motionless little pods, with hopeful assurance that in due time, they would each emerge as the beautiful butterflies— just as the science magazine they had been ordered from had promised.

That sweet story was my first blog post. If you would like to revisit it, you may do so here: https://builttobeabutterfly.com/2017/01/

It’s hard to believe that blog post was first published over five YEARS ago! I want to ask “Where did the time go??!” But then, doesn’t that make me sound… old??!! LOL.

Time has marched forward with what feels like break-neck speed. It seems like I blinked… and everything has changed! Whew! The fact is… the five wonderfully curious little children I wrote about in the post linked above are all grown up now. Two are military men; both who have been serving in places outside the U.S., under circumstances which have pained my mother’s heart. My daughters have finished college and married. 

My “nest” is empty now and my time is more my own. In my last post, I explained that I have been praying about where my time and energy should be spent now— particularly in regards to the BuiltToBeAButterfly website and ministry. I also shared with y’all then that I was working on a manuscript and that I would be taking a little time off from writing here while I was working on the project.

Well…. the manuscript is finally finished and it is currently in the proof and editing phases! I’ll let you know more as the details become clear. 

I’m still uncertain about what the future holds for this website. Its creation was a huge leap of faith for me—-a real s-t-r-e-t-c-h for me and my (very) limited technical skills! It has also been a real time consumer— mostly because I have had to learn as I go (and I’m a very slow learner!) haha! And then there is the expense of maintaining a website and all that involves. I probably would have given up long ago, but so many of you have been kind enough to say that it’s blessed you over the years. It has made it hard to consider letting it go by the way side.

So for now? I’m still considering this a “Pause”; the proverbial semicolon that will be a place holder until I hear clearly what direction to take. Until then, I will still be popping in here occasionally to keep in touch. I would absolutely appreciate your prayers in the next few months as I explore this next season of writing and investigate which doors of opportunity I should walk through (and which ones I should let slam shut! LOL)  😉 

As always, I will keep you guys posted! I appreciate you so very much!

Until Next Time,

 

 

 

A Safe Place

Posted on by mrsmonarch

Good morning, friends.

I found this little butterfly nestled in the under brush of my flower garden this morning. She has been tattered by life and is weary, most likely facing the end of her life cycle.  🙁

You might be asking yourself, “Why on earth would she take a picture of that??!”

Friends, y’all know I’m not cruel! I promise you that I have taken no pleasure in witnessing the end of her life unfold! There is a different, more encouraging perspective that I am focusing on and want to share…

You see, although I hate to see her life come to an end, I was encouraged by the thought that her final hours will be filled with good things ***because of the garden I have purposefully worked hard to create.***

I am not God! I can’t add more days to her life! That is not in my realm of power. But…because of the flower garden I have nurtured all summer, I have been able to alter her reality a bit. I have been able to bring some elements of relief and peace to her short but beautiful life.

Seeing her there, nestled amongst the flowers, has helped to remind me that every day, each of us can work to build (or destroy!) the nurturing environments of those around us. We can sow kindness and joy or bitterness and anger. Which we choose is entirely up to us!

I want to encourage you to spend today being purposeful! Spend today finding the little ways you can make a difference!! Often, it doesn’t even take much effort to brighten someone’s day or to ease their hardships. It really doesn’t cost anything more than a snippet of time— and wisdom reminds us that the time passes, regardless of whether we squander it or spend it well.

So, be that person! Be the one who goes the extra mile. The one who holds the door open. The one who offers a sincere smile when passing. The one who spends a few extra minutes texting a friend to let them know you love them. Be determined to find a way to provide a niche of safety and refreshing in this cruel and misguided world.

You might just find that it brightens your OWN world a bit in the process!

Until Next Time,

 

 

 

The Game of Life

Posted on by mrsmonarch

This week, I was going through the boxes we’ve had in storage. Fumbling through the piles of bubble wrap, I eventually rediscovered a child’s kaleidoscope that I had packed away some years ago.

I held it up to the light and turned its lens first to the left, and then to the right. Every “click” and turn of its lens made a hundred brightly colored fragments fall and recreate themselves into vastly different shapes, each uniquely beautiful—though completely …. totally… different from the one before. There seemed to be no end to the ways the pieces could fall, and the anticipation of what the next click would offer kept me entertained for an embarrassingly long time. (smile)

As y’all know, my mind processes things in an endless array of analogies. (haha) And this experience was no different. As I clicked and turned that kaleidoscope, I couldn’t help but ponder how closely its changing slides correspond to the ever changing seasons of our life. Just like turning the lens of that kaleidoscope created an entirely different scene, each new season of our life brings changes that make it almost unrecognizable from what we had become accustomed.

I’ve come to realize that how we perceive life as a whole depends a LOT on the season of life we are in. For example: A healthy young woman in her early thirties seldom spends much time contemplating the impact her life has had on the world at large; but forty years later, she will likely spend a considerable amount of time pondering it. It’s just the reality of the Game of Life.

Spend a few moments here with me, and let’s explore life from two radically different seasons. We are going to take a bird’s eye view of two neighbors … and hopefully, broaden our perspectives.

Julie, a mother of three young children, spends her days struggling to just keep her kiddos safe and fed. She referees petty arguments between siblings and tries to keep the dirty laundry pile from growing to the height of Mount Everest. During this season, she is busy—sleep deprived and exhausted. Her days melt into weeks; and the weeks melt into months.

It takes every thing she can muster to simply keep her household afloat. Her vantage point is limited. From her perspective, life is an endless sea of needs and servitude. In fact, she can seldom envision her existence beyond this moment. It feels like her life will forever remain in a cycle of sticky, noisy chaos. There is very little “left over” energy to spend fretting over what her life will look like once these little ones go off to college.

Her morning comes too quickly. The alarm clock didn’t go off and now…. she’s running late. The children are grumpy and dragging their feet. Her middle child has lost a shoe. Again. She groans and asks herself how it’s even possible for a child to loose one single shoe from each of the pairs he owns??! She sighs. Flip flops will have to do this morning. That’s the only matching shoes she can find for him that fit.

She grabs the diaper bag and throws it over her shoulder. It gets tangled in her purse strap that’s already there, but she’s too hurried to care. With her youngest propped against her hip, she fumbles to find the car keys without dumping the contents of her purse. As she’s dragging her tired children down the sidewalk to the car, her eyes catch a glimpse of Margaret, the elderly lady who lives across the street. She doesn’t intend to covet… but Geeze, what she wouldn’t give to have beautiful flowers out front of her house like “Miss Margaret’s”!

Margaret smiles & waves. They exchange “Good Morning” pleasantries. Julie hurriedly waves, clicks the buckle on the last car seat and attempts to slide the van door closed. Just as she’s slamming it, the long lost shoe she spent the morning hunting for, tumbles out of the van and onto the driveway. Exasperated, she bends down, picks it up and tosses it into the abyss others call a back seat. The van door can finally be shut. One should never underestimate the feeling of accomplishment that comes from success. 😉

She positions herself behind the steering wheel and reaches up to adjust the rear-view mirror. Whew! She has 10 minuntes to get the kids to school. If there’s no traffic, there’s hope that she won’t be late this time.
The air inside the van reeks of a long forgotten dirty diaper and last week’s stale french fries left behind after soccer practice. Now confined to their carseats, the children begin their typical tirade of “You’re on my side!” and “Don’t touch me!” but some where along the line, Julie has become numb to it all. Her actions are robotic. Stop here. Turn there. It’s the same route she’s taken a hundred times before. The monotony allows her mind time to wander.

Is she a “good” mom? She certainly tries to be! But, Dang!! She’s always Sooo tired! Will the kids remember all the little (and not so little) things she did for them? Or… will their memories be filled with the times she failed instead? Is she doing enough to prepare them for the life they will have when they leave home? Her mind recalls the resentment she still holds for her own mother over grievances they had when she was a teenager. She felt a shudder go up her spine. Surely she can do better than THAT!

Without warning, the shoe she had cast into the abyss comes flying through the air and slams into the rear view mirror, knocking it off kilter once again. “MOMMY!!!! He……” The shrill tone of her daughter’s voice snapped her back to her present reality. “Why??! Why do you guys always act like this???!”, she quipped. She took a deep breath and reached up to re-adjust the mirror. This is her life. Of course she loves loves it….
After all, that’s how “good” moms are supposed feel. ….. Right???

*** *** *** ***
Margaret, a retired widow in her mid 70s, rises early and wanders out into her front yard. It’s so much easier to weed her flower beds in the early morning before the heat and humidity get intense. She stands near the street and turns to assess the front yard as a whole. Yep. The fertilizer she used last month has certainly paid off. Her flowers are in full bloom now and there’s no denying she has the prettiest yard on the street! In fact, seldom a day goes by when neighbors, walking up and down the road in the cool of the late afternoon, don’t stop to admire her hard work. She welcomes the interaction, even if it’s often too short and impersonal for her taste.

Some days she wonders if she truly does all of this work because she enjoys gardening… or… if she does it to get the neighbors to stop and chat for a brief while. After all, the occasional chatty neighbor is the only thing she can count on to break the monotonous silence that plagues the majority of hours in her day. With her own children grown and gone, she finds herself passing the hours, sitting in her porch swing, watching life as it happens, up and down her busy tree-lined, suburban street.

One of her favorite neighbors is a young mom named “Julie” who lives directly across the street. Margaret estimates that Julie is in her early 30s— with 3 kiddos age seven and under. They are absolutely delightful children; always quick to wave and so polite! Watching their antics is better than any comedy show on TV these days. There’s always activity. Always noise. Always mess. And always laughter. “There’s never a dull moment at their house!”, Margaret tells herself. “I’m sure Julie realizes that these are the best days of her life!”

She smiles and waves at the young mom, as she watches Julie struggle to corral her children and get them into the van. It’s only 8am. and the van is a mere 50 feet from the front door— but the poor mom looks like she’s already competed in a major triathlon event—and come in last! As the van door slides open, a shoe falls out. The gregarious Miss Margaret giggles under her breath as she watches the young mom toss it to the back of the van and slam the door closed. She smiles and waves again as Julie hurriedly backs out of the driveway and speeds away.

Margaret lets out a little half-hearted laugh and shakes her head in amazement, as she comes to terms with how quickly those years passed for her. She’d give almost anything to go back in time and trade her perfectly clean, quiet, lifeless house and yard full of glorious flowers for the chaos of giggling children and their endless messes.

She longs to hear from her grown children, but they are busy fighting the dragons of their own personal seasons and seldom have the time or energy to call. Her most valuable asset is her stash of memories, and she spends her abundance of quiet time pouring over them in vivid detail. Through out the years that her children had lived at home, she had often longed for quiet time. Now, the ticking of a wall clock in the kitchen is the only thing that breaks the deafening silence. She’s shocked by how loud it seemed.

Suddenly, the smile on her face fades, and a battle begins. Once again, she must fight the endless battery of questions she asks herself. Was she a ‘good’ mother? She didn’t doubt that she TRIED really hard. But if she had been “successful”, would her grown children be where they are today? Struggling in the ways they are struggling?? Her thoughts are filled with the poisonous darts of doubt. “What ifs” fill her mother’s heart. Concern and discouragement fill her weary spirit. She looks out her window and sees another young neighbor, playing in the yard with her children and finds herself resenting how quickly the moments of her life were spent.

Two very different women—- walking through very different seasons of their life. From each other’s vantage point, the other’s life seems so much more….. fulfilling. The one thing they share in common?? They are each glorifying the season the other is in—with OUT a broad enough view to see the entire picture.

Yes indeed— our individual time line, and where we stand on this board game of life, has a huge impact on how we perceive things! Like the kaleidoscope I still hold in my hand, the click of each passing season brings scenes and scenarios we can not predict. We can anticipate the inevitable changes with joy … or dread. But things will change regardless!

I guess the main purpose of this post is to help us all remember that each season is chocked full of experiences; both pleasant and bittersweet. Every stage of life has its own trials and joys, and it’s up to each of us to choose which we’re going to focus on. There is no inherently “perfect” season we should fear leaving and no season we should approach with dread. Where ever we’re “at” on the game board of life— someone– somewhere— is watching our life through eyes of longing and appreciation. It’d be ideal if we could look at our life that way, too, for tomorrow—- the scene will be different and today’s view will be gone forever.

In the original board game, only one person can “win” at the game of Life. But in reality, any one who can reach a state of genuine contentment for the season they are in can be a true “winner”!

Until Next Time,

 

 

 

 

The State of Being Replaceable

Posted on by mrsmonarch

I was putting the finishing touches on an article I was writing, when the door swung open and one of my grown kiddos rushed over to the table where I was sitting. She stood there— hovering— anxiously shifting her weight from foot to foot, the way she’d do when she was little and about to burst to tell me something.

I stopped typing and shifted my eyes to hers. Immediately, she announced that an old episode of the TV series “Wife Swap” was airing that evening. It was the only episode that was really ever of any interest to me– and only then because it featured a family from the small Tennessee town we had raised our family.

Their family and ours were part of the same home-school group. Our children grew up playing together. We attended many of the same functions. The couple, my husband and I shared many of the same parenting strategies; as well as many of the same hopes, dreams, concerns, etc.

My husband set the DVR to record it, and later that week, during a rare moment alone, I decided to take a deep breath and travel back to 2006— the year the episode was filmed.

I caught myself smiling as the episode played out. Nodding in agreement with comments that were being made. I even broke out in laughter a time or two. The kids on my TV screen were all … familiar. The house, and the furnishings, were exactly as I remembered them. My friend, and her husband, responded to the challenges of the show exactly as I would have expected them to— even when so many of their core beliefs and life-style choices were under attack. Everything was — consistent. Everything was— exactly as I remembered, as if it had all been… frozen in time.

What makes that significant? Well…. in the 15 years since the show’s original taping, my friend—-the small town, Christian home-school mom, has passed away. Our children have grown up, moved out and started families of their own. My husband and I got tired of the fickle Tennessee weather; packed up, left the comforts of the quiet little town we shared and moved to the “way south”. Life has continued … and nothing… absolutely NOTHING… has stood still and passed the test of time. EVERY thing has changed.

I was scrolling through Facebook a few months back and stumbled upon the post of a mutual friend. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Well—if that’s true, this particular post was a novel— social media style.

Our friend’s husband had just gotten re-married. I scrolled through the post. There were big smiles, beautiful dresses and pretty flowers. Some of the children attended. Others did not. I’m not judging him. He had experienced 2-1/2 decades of a loving, mutually satisfying marriage with my friend. Married life suits him, and after her death, he had to be terribly, terribly lonely. It’s reasonable to think he would long to share that type of bond with someone else instead of grieving himself to a premature death.

The woman he married is someone I know; someone who had been active in our small town community and our home-school group. She is a woman of good character; gentle and kind. They will compliment one another well, and comfort each other in this new and challenging season of life. I am happy for them. Truly. But….

Yeah. There’s almost always a “but”, isn’t there?? LOL.

Here’s the thing: My friend is gone. There can be no restoration in this life time. Logically, there is no reason for her husband to spend the rest of his days on this earth navigating the dark and painful waters of life alone. But as a wife and mother myself…?? Well, I have to admit that thought of being “replaced”— of life just… continuing forward… is a bit painful. And yet, just within my own circle of friends, I’ve watched this happen several times.

It isn’t just the fact that life “goes on” —- that men tend to remarry and children grow up— that bothers me.    It’s…. ??? It’s the speed in which it happens; and the reality that time is so harsh on the legacy left behind that is difficult for me!

Shouldn’t the dust be allowed to settle? Shouldn’t the memory of a devoted wife and self-sacrificing mother be immune to the ravages of time?! Can’t anything be placed in a time capsule, treasured and preserved exactly as it was in its glory days??

The harsh answer? My nasty, alter-ego quips: “Only in photo albums; home movies; and 15 year old TV series that are archived and only see the light of day every few years!”

But my spirit knows the truth! The more complete answer is… Our loved ones are preserved in the hearts and minds of everyone they ever touched. The child they rocked for hours while she had a fever? Though the child herself can no longer feel the arms of her mother wrapped around her, or smell her perfume, or even remember those moments with clarity, the memory of the love her mother shared with her is etched deep into her DNA.

The husband who has buried his life partner and “moved on”?? Perhaps it wasn’t as “easy” as social media makes it seem. After all, we all realize that what is put on social media is usually a sanitized, unrealistic, bird’s-eye view of reality. It is rare that someone will post snapshots of their tear stained pillow or agonizing struggle with depression. The world simply doesn’t want to see those things! In addition to that, we have become a society who shares what is pleasant—- comfortable— “light-weight”. We have allowed no place for “heaviness” on Social Media.

The cold hard truth is: Some times, disagreements occur that cause rifts which separate loved ones. Occasionally—messy, painful divorces occur. Children grow up. Houses get sold. Death can unexpectedly burst through our life like a wrecking ball; turn our world upside down and change the course of our life forever!!! We can’t stop that…

Yet, even when those kinds of things happen—eventually— there will be new experiences. New friendships will be made. New relationships forged. Homes that will be purchased. Gardens that will be sown and harvested. Little children will leave our homes and make families of their own. Some times, we will get to be a part of those experiences… some times, not. But life… as a cycle… will continue. The sun will rise and set, whether we would prefer it to or not!

But that doesn’t change the fact that NONE of us is truly “replaceable”. We are each the uniquely made children of our Supreme Creator. We each have a purpose… and an impact … on all the lives we touch while we are here. And… our impact often goes forward and continues to touch others long after we are gone. (Grief is proof of that!!)

So, my friend—if today finds you struggling with the heaviness of loss, I want to gently remind you that life is for the LIVING. Those of us who have been “left behind” have to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

What that looks like will be different for each of us. For one mother of a child killed by a drunk driver, it was the establishment of M.A.D.D. (Mothers Against Drunk Drivers). For John Walsh, the father of Adam Walsh, the little boy who was kidnapped and murdered in the 1980s, it was a TV series called “America’s Most Wanted”, where he could put his passion to good use locating criminals and putting them behind bars.

Some aching hearts create foundations that offer help to those experiencing situations similar to their own. Others throw themselves into community service. Many of the rest simply hold their memories close to their heart and walk down the isle— into the hope of finding happiness again.

As I sit here pondering it all, I finally realize that it usually isn’t “replacement” that we are striving for. (The wise realize that isn’t possible anyway.) We simply want to feel alive in the way we did before our loss. And some times, moving forward—while holding fast to all the love we have ever known— is the best way to do that.

Until Next Time,