Words I wish I wrote

THE MOST VITAL THING IN LIFE

When you feel like saying something

that you know you will regret,

or keenly feel an insult

not quite easy to forget,

that's the time to curb resentment

and maintain a mental peace,

for when your mind is tranquil

all your ill-thoughts simply cease.

It is easy to be angry

when defrauded or defied,

to be peeved and disappointed

if your wishes are denied;

but to win a worthwhile battle

over selfishness and spite,

you must learn to keep strict silence 

though you know you're on the right.

So keep your mental balance

when confronted by a foe,

be it enemy in ambush,

or some danger that you know.

If you are poised and tranquil

when all around is strife,

be assured that you have mastered

the most vital thing in life.

GRENVILLE KLEISER

A tranquil heart is life to the body,

but passion is rottenness to the bones.

Proverbs 14:30

     I rolled over in bed and felt the pain; everywhere. From my shoulders to my feet, there was pain. I wondered how I would go thru the day like that; how would I manage to care for the little guys if I could hardly move. Somehow it didn't seem fair. Tears begun to flow from my eyes, rolling down and hitting my pillow, making the peculiar pit-pat noise of rain.

     It was still dark outside; everything was quiet, except my mind, except my heart.

     I have prayed for healing so many times; others have prayed over me too; why then should I still suffer? for what purpose? My heart turned to God and I spoke to Him as I would to anyone else; I was angry. I know He can heal me; the only question left is does He wants to.

     I got out of bed and went to the living room; thoughts begun to flood my head; questions, concerns, doubt, confusion; I was so overwhelmed by the time I turned to the place I always turn to when the path gets tough: the Bible.

     I stumbled upon a verse on proverbs: a tranquil heart is life to the body, but passion is rottenness to the bones.

     A brutally honest look at my life would render the verdict that I am seldom at peace; even when the outside looks it, the inside is at war. The mind never stops moving. It travels back and forth thru the passages of time, worrying about a future that does not belong to me, regretting a past that is long gone, therefore non-existent, as there is nothing anyone can do to change it, not even God himself.

     A tranquil heart is life to the body.

     My mind begun to wonder if by any chance all this bodily pain could be a direct result of the turmoil inside; if my mind was at war, wouldn't it just make perfect sense that my body was showing the signs of the wounds inflicted by the enemy? The remedy sounded just too simple: a tranquil heart.

     I closed my eyes thinking to myself "ok heart, get quiet", but quickly realized that it was completely out of my hands; there is nothing I can really do to quiet my own heart, at least not just that easily; it has been years of training the mind and the heart to lean toward the dreadful, the what if's, the negative. I needed help from above to teach my heart to be at peace, to rest knowing that God is all powerful, big enough to take care of us, loving enough to work all things for good. 

     Peace. 

    I wondered what that looked like, felt like. I have no real recollection of what that really means or feels or looks like. As far back as I have memory, all I remember is turmoil. Yelling. Slamming of doors. Hurting words. A dreadful feeling in the air; an unsettling environment around the family meals, never knowing what would trigger the next attack or where I could run for cover; or even if I would be able to run for cover at all; I could be the next escape goat and endure not only the verbal attack but also the physical attack.

     There I was again, stuck in the past. See, it comes so easily.

     Somewhere in the midst of my tears I remember The Prince of Peace and  His invitation to "come to me all who are weary and heavy-ladden, and I will give you rest". With a broken heart and a wounded spirit I knelt before Him and waited until the strength to go on filled me once again. If you ever heard the words "My Grace is enough" wishpered to your heart  in the quietness of the early morning, then you know how thankful one can be for the amazing gift of Grace.

     And for the first time in a long time, my heart was truly at rest. Despite the pain.

     

Wherever you are....be there.

     It was a nice class; the teacher was motivating, the class was interesting, the surroundings comfortable; but somehow, despite my best efforts to pay attention, to concentrate, to absorb as much as I could, my mind wasn't there. I kept realizing every few minutes that I had no idea what this guy had said, as I had been too busy planning ahead for the things I had to do next, making mental lists of the things I needed, remembering what someone has said to me and how I finally got the perfect answer, the one the would have given me the upper hand.

     And suddenly, as if arranged by magic, my mind cleared for a brief second so I could hear these words: wherever you are...be there.

     What? What do you mean "be there"? Aren't I here? I showed up, didn't I? I'm sitting here, looking at you, I make sure I have a smile on my face, I look at you directly, I nod once in awhile in agreement; what do you mean "be there"? I am here!

     But was I? Could I honestly say that I heard every word and truly understood the topic? Could I honestly say that I was there and I didn't miss a thing? That would be a big, fat NO.

     Yet this was an all too familiar territory for me; after all, when was the last time I was fully and completely and entirely in on place? I pride myself with being a multitasker, I can accomplish more when doing a few things at the same time, even if such things involve holding a crying child that needs comforting while boiling some water for the noodles and stirring the tomato sauce. I mean, that's not only dangerous...it's VERY dangerous. And add to that the fact that while my hands and arms are busy, my head is even busier, clouded with thoughts of self pity, and whining and complaining.

     So to put it simply, I'm not only always multitasking, I'm always over thinking. Always.

     No wonder peace and contentment are a rare commodity for me these days.

     So that little phrase really did start something inside me. How much have I really missed in life just because I was too busy planning life? How many little smiles from the tykes have I missed, or disregarded as unimportant, because I was too busy formulating a plan B,  just in case plan A didn't pan out?

     Being brutally honest with myself, I realized that most of the time I'm in a hurry, too busy to really be present with my kids, to really care for their requests, to really pay attention to their stories, to really hug them, and really kiss them.

     Every emptynester I know keeps telling me that these years go by so quickly; they all say time flies and before you know they're graduating; they all encourage me (sometimes it feels like they're begging me) to enjoy these years, to treasure them, to soak them up, to take tons of pictures and video, to ingrain the cute and cuddly moments  in my memory, because they won't last. They say soon they will want to pull away from me, be more independent; they say they might want to be with their friends and discover life on their own. They say soon, especially having boys, my hugs and kisses will join the list of gross-things-to-avoid-at-all-cost and they will not want to be hugged and kissed and smothered.

     And the thought of that really is terrifying, despite the fact that everyday I wish it was next day already; sometimes, when going thru the thickest part of mothering, meaning cleaning yet another messy diaper, wiping yet another buggery nose, cleaning yet another saggy bowl of cereal that stayed too long on the table -or long enough for Aaron to find it and dump it all over the floor- the thought of them being grown up and independent is like soft music to me ears.

     But not at that price. 

     So at least for today, I will do my best to really be here; to summon my mind, emotions and feelings back from la la land and really invest myself here at home; who knows? maybe that game of chutes and ladders Nathan has been wanting to play with me is not that bad after all.

     You know that still, small voice people keep talking about?

     Today it is telling me to bring my heart home......tomorrow can always wait.

"You are too concerned 

with what was

and what will be.

There's a saying:

Yesterday is history,

Tomorroy is a mistery,

but today is a gift.

That's why is called

'the present' ".

Master Oogway

Kung Fu Panda

"Life is what happens to you

when you are busy making other plans".

Lennon

"Therefore do not worry about tomorrow,

for tomorrow will worry about itself. 

Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Jesus

     

     

WELCOME TO MY WORLD

Yes. The title seems a little crazy.

Some of you might swear to the contrary.

Some of you might pat my back and tell me that isn't so.

Some of you don't even care.

But if someone asked me to describe my life,

at this stage,

that would pretty much sumarize it all.

Those three areas are the most important areas of my life.

* Tho love God with all my heart, and all my soul, and all my might,

and to love my neighbor, as Christ commanded.

(but try as I might, I keep missing the mark; 

there are so many things clouding my mind, 

and my soul, and my spirit, that there's little room to

accomplish such task)

* To love my husband; to truly be his help meet; 

to grow in love, dedication and devotion to him;

to treasure him as the most precious, rare and

unmistakable gift God could ever give me.

(but I'm afraid I take him for granted; daily;

I allow routine and busyness to grab hold of me,

and I neglect to nurture our friendship,

our love, our unity)

* To love and nurture the three boys God has placed under my care;

to raise them to be strong men, who love God, are friends of Jesus,

love but one woman and follow the steps of their earthy father and 

become as good fathers to their own kids,

 as their father has been to them; or even better -if that's even possible!

(but I know for sure that everyday I allow the cleaning

of the house, the laundry, the cooking, the drawer organizing,

the reading, the thinking and the philosophical search for

nothingness to pull me away from them; it's so easy to send them off 

to their imaginary plays, where they fight dragons and knights and one 

or two misplaced ninjas, all to rescue a damsel in distress,

just so I can pick my toe nails, -or finish an online argument

with someone I don't even know about something I don't even

really care for- just to prove my point.

Hence the title.

You will get a rare glimpse to the real me;

emphasis on real;

not the one that puts forth a smile,

straightens her hair, takes a deep breath

and acts like everything is under control.

No.

You'll get to see the broken one,

the insecure one, the tired one,

the almost-always-at-the-brink-of-tears one.

The one that almost every night

-and sometimes early morning-

falls down,  face flat on the groud,

at the feet of The Cross, 

and begs

"have mercy on me"

and eagerly awaits 'til

The Master wishpers

"My Grace is enough"

test