Tag Archives: change

Milestones

Turning over, sitting up, crawling, walking, talking, riding a bike, writing your name, reading… all milestones. Some I have pictures of and some I don’t.

There are others that cannot be captured by a picture. Those that include learning to empathize, choosing to share, applying your faith, forgiving someone that has hurt you, forgiving yourself, and so many others that prick the hearts of parents. Moments when you see your children excel in things other than reading, writing, science and math. I’m not minimizing the importance of learning (I was a teacher, remember?) but rather trying to remember those things that are learned through life. Those character lessons that normally come through pain.

I have found that I am becoming more and more like my grandmother. We rarely had the opportunity to visit her (she lived in Washington State) but when we did I noticed that she would tear up about most things. She cried when we hugged her, cried when she shared memories, cried at special occasions, and cried when we said goodbye. I completely understood the goodbye cry. Goodbyes are not my favorite. Lately, though, I find myself crying at milestones… mainly the character building type that I see in my children.

I cried when Kenneth prayed that his friend could forgive him, cried when Brooke shared something that was really important to her with someone else without being told, cried when the kids and I talked about meeting the baby(possibly babies) in Heaven that I lost, and cried when Morgan and I discussed baptism. There are many others (I’m sure my kids would be agreeing with me on that about now… and laughing…).

Maybe it’s that I am learning for the first time to feel my emotions. To realize that it’s OK to be emotional and that “too emotional” should not ever be spoken again. That God made me unique and with a tender heart that feels deeply.

One day my children will hold their children and watch them reach milestones… and they’ll cry or feel that deep twinge in their hearts. And I pray that as they do they’ll remember their Mommy who loved them enough to cry and celebrate their milestones. A Mommy who cared. A Mommy who loved. A Mommy who sacrificed. A Mommy just like my grandmother and my mom :)

Being a Mommy has been the most difficult yet most rewarding job I’ve ever had. God certainly knew what he was doing when he created a Mommy’s heart.

A Great Place to Be

I literally woke up with one word on my mind this morning. The word is compassion.

Compassion. An easier word to define, than it is to live. Sure, it’s easy to have compassion for my children when they get hurt or someone hurts  them. The motherly instinct takes over. Same with a friend. Compassion shows up in our society in many ways. Some feel compassion in their hearts and some show their compassion by getting involved. It reminds me of the book, “Same Kind of Different As Me”. LOVED that book!

I tend to teeter between compassion and judgment. Hard to admit, but it’s true. Those that do not choose what I think is “right” tend to receive less compassion (and often judgment) than those that fail while following the “right” path. Right in my eyes. Driving by the homeless begging my mind would judge. If only they would do _____, then _____. Fortunately, God has confronted me in this area and this time (because of course my heart has heard it before) I am working to change it.

Change. Not an easy thing to do, and often painful, but must happen if there is to be growth. Those that know me (and if you’re reading this you probably do), know that I’m not a fan of change. But being content where I am is no longer an option. It’s time to do things differently. To see things differently. To love differently. To live life differently. AND to show compassion differently.

Compassion does not mean that I agree or condone what someone is or is not doing. It does mean that I allow them the respect and dignity to choose  their own path, but have compassion for where they are. Compassion for their pain. Compassion for their losses. Compassion for their reality. Compassion regardless of what I think they should do/be. I mean really, who am I to tell anyone how to live or what they should do? That is not my business.

Compassion is the vehicle to forgiveness. Without compassion forgiveness is almost impossible, or at least that’s how I see it. Both forgiveness and  compassion bring freedom. A freedom to let others have their journey as their own. Freedom to be who I want to be and become, all the while having compassion for others.

Of course this is the way my Love would have me live. A lesson that’s been a long time in coming and one I’m sure He’s hoping I finally learn. He only knows how many times it’s been brought to my attention. Glad He has compassion for me; otherwise, He may have given up on me a long time ago. So glad he didn’t.

So for today I’m choosing compassion. Compassion that will eventually lead me into forgiveness. And it’s a great place to be right now.

Welcome Home to Me

I left for Colorado as a broken, emotionally drained shell of a person. Getting away was a blessing and one that I knew my Heavenly Father had planned for me. What I didn’t know is how difficult the journey would be.

Mourning would not even touch the depths of my grief the first few days. My body had rejected food for so long I couldn’t even taste what I was eating… until I heard my Savior sing over me. And I don’t mean a literal sing, but something amazing. A whisper in my soul that not only brought peace, but also joy. Something that shattered the empty, emotionally drained shell.

Reading, journaling, singing, and praying became my daily meal. The lessons I learned in 6 days have changed me and I am so, so thankful. A love affair that I once lost has now been found. A love affair with my Savior. I have missed him. He is my everything and I adore him. Not only did I began to taste food again, but I enjoyed it.

Being romanced by my First Love is an incredible experience. We talked while climbing mountains, watched the snow fall for hours, and sat in a hot tub under the stars while it snowed. The snow was white and covered EVERYTHING. It was pure. It was clean. And so was my heart… finally. Peace flooded my soul and I was no longer a shell.

The Sheila that walked off the plane was not the same one that boarded it only 6 days prior. My sweet kids gave me a “welcome home” party with a cupcake Morgan had saved ALL week for me :-) It was a great Welcome Home… not only because of my sweet kiddos, but because I knew my heart was home too.

A few days later it snowed in Katy. Some were surprised by it, but I knew my First Love was reminding me of our sweet weekend together. Oh how I love Him!