How to Love...?

Last night, one of our preacher's preached his last sermon at our church.

I call him preacher, even though it seems a bit outdated, because that is what he is.....a preacher.  It's what he does the very best of all.  When he speaks, he speaks with the authority of one who knows and loves God.  He sets on fire the hearts of the people he speaks to, it's such a gift, such an amazing thing to witness.

My heart was set on fire last night.  He spoke of the temple of old - the majesty of it, the grand scale and how it was good.  Then Jesus came and he was the temple and that was better than just a building.  Yet Jesus was taken up to heaven and it was the best because we were saved and we became the temple.  That a building is not needed to find God but that we were the temple - the ones to go and take the church wherever we go.  That, because of His sacrifice, within us heaven and earth intersect and we can take that with us wherever we go.


I came home and read Kisses for Katie - a blog about a 19 year old girl that went to Uganda and  started a ministry to care for the children and people there.  Now four years later she is a single mother to 13 girls and has helped COUNTLESS others.  She went, not counting the cost and she is taking the His love to the people of Uganda.

I watched my brother live on IHOP's webstream, singing and giving glory God - pouring his heart out in prayer.  Worshipping God, through heartache and pain and loss, but still giving glory, being a constant witness to His love and His goodness and His mercy and His faithfulness.  He is bringing His love to so many.

I read two blogs consistently - Big Mama and A Holy Experience.  They operate on two different ends of the spectrum but this week they are both going to Ecuador on a Compassion trip together.  They each spoke of what they hope to find there, what they hope to find in themselves.  They are bringing His love to Ecuador and sharing it with so many readers.

I sat in my chair, as I sit now, with tears streaming down my face.  I wonder what is God calling me to?  What am I to do?  How can I show His love and to whom?   I feel so woefully inadequate as I live my comfortable life, baking muffins and shuttling kids to school and playdates, reading my Bible in my warm living room while sipping hot coffee.  Who am I that I get to live this comfortable life and in giving me this comfortable life what does He want me to do with it?  How can I take this love I feel, that I have to others who may not be so blessed?  How do I keep this fire within me throughout the week, throughout the month when this middle class, comfortable life threatens to shove me right back into complacency?

I wish you all had the answers for me.  I wish it were easier.  I wish that I could feel that fire always.

Can you pray for me this week?  Can you pray that this fire that God placed within me remain within me so that I can be a witness to His love for others?

I want to love this week.  I want to love big.

I want to not be overcome by my own weakness and weariness.

In His Name.

Thank you, Lord, for loving me, leaving me breathless with that love, no matter who I love, no matter what I do, You love me.  Let me bear witness to that great love.

Oh my......

Yesterday my sweet daughter and I were at the table making books.  My book was about a small black cat, hers about herself.  She loves to use all her sight words in her reading and writing.  But the first thing she wanted to write she wasn't quite sure how to spell.  So she asked me.....

Mom, how do you write "I am beautiful"?

I, at least, had the decency to blush.  

The saying is true......the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.....

I can see the Codispoti clan shaking their heads right now.........

My Brother.......

I have been so very blessed...........blessed with a brother who is a best friend.  Mom pounded that into our heads from the time when we were very young, your brother/sister will always be there, will be your best friend, treat them with kindness.  There was much eyerolling and laughter and giggling at just about everything mom said but that remained true.  He is a best friend.

He's the friend that when you get together you tell the same stories over and over and still laugh just as hard as the first time.  He's the friend that you can go weeks without talking to and then all of a sudden get a call and feel that pull to be together again - you find yourself wishing that you just lived next door to each other so that the conversation would never end and you could just stop over every day.  He's the friend that makes you feel more interesting, more beautiful, more alive just by being around him.  He's the friend that one word, one look will take you back to a simpler time, an easier time when the biggest problem you had was worrying about what to wear to school the next day or what game to play with the girls next door.

Now......well, we have more to worry about.  We have reasons for the laughter to stop for a moment, reasons for life to stop and our hearts to stop for just a moment in hopes that they don't shatter completely. It used to be so much easier to fight my brother's battles for him - I remember kicks to the shin, words spewed in anger at kids that wanted to hurt my brother, wanted to knock him down from the pedestal that they created for him.  I was ready to take on anyone, anything that would hurt him.  But I don't know how to fight this battle for him now, I don't know how to take on the life that was given to him.  I don't know how to make the world right when it just isn't and won't ever be truly right again.  I don't know how to heal his hurting heart.

It's hard to love.

It's hard to love a hurting brother.  It's hard to love a child you aren't able to hold.  It's hard to love a life that has an empty space within it.  How to fill that space?  Can you fill that space?  Or is it a special place, carved out for a love that defies definition, that transcends the normal parent/child relationship?  What if there is no answer?  What if the love is found in the hurting, the pain?  What if that piercing pain is evidence of a piercing love?

Oh, Matt.......how I love you.  How I love your daughter.  How I love that beautiful wife of yours that gave you such a daughter.  

I wish she were here.

I wish that you didn't know the pain of a Father who lost a child.

I love you.  I never fought any battles for you, really.  You were the stronger one, always.  I was the angry, blustery one.  You were the one who showed true strength.  I know that this is true for today too.  

Don't try to fill that space but reserve it for an extraordinary love, a first love for a first child.  There is a space in my heart too, Matt, one reserved for a first niece, a extension of my extraordinary brother.  Taking the next step, living your life past the day of her birth is not forgetting but, rather, celebrating the love and life that created Adalyn Joy.

Joy, Joy, Joy...........remember and take cue from your child..........Joy, Joy, Joy

I love you.

Love you so much.

Mom and Dad

It's heart stirring and sweet to see where you came from...............

That where you came from was a place of love..........

Seeing your own parents through grown up eyes, realizing that life did not begin with you but began long before............

I am not sure why but my eyes always fill when looking at these pictures - to see who they were, how young and beautiful and full of joy......I am so thankful for the life that they gave my brother and I............

They passed on their joy and love and laughter to us along with the unshakable security and trust that what they began together will remain together. It's been fun to see these two people who took on life together take on retirement together. Not only surviving it but enjoying it................reminding me of these pictures, grateful that they were able to keep pieces and parts of who they were before jobs, family, kids, life all descended upon them. Now, once again, it is two - I wonder where life will take them this time :)

Random Question of the Day.............

Your participation is required........unless, of course, you are one of my few male readers. I would understand if you want to take a pass on this. I was a bit taken aback when a nice gentleman I used to work with at Warstler commented on one of my posts. He said he enjoyed reading my blog and keep it up. I was thinking, oh my Mr. Ault knows I peed my pants multiple times........

Anyway, I polled a few friends a few weeks back about who they would want to go to the dance with......what dance, you may ask? Any dance......just play along.

So if you were going to the dance who would you want to go with?

A. Johnny Castle

B. Ren McCormack

C. Danny Zuko

I guess the questions is - do you want to be rescued from the corner, the farm or the Pink Ladies?

I thought the answer would be obvious, there is only one answer in my mind but curiously NO ONE else agreed with me. I was curious to see if any of you all agreed with me. So play along, I need at least 5 people to answer so my curiosity can be satisfied. Oh and if you want to give a reason, too, that would be appreciated. If you have to look up who these people are, well this just saddens me and you will have to go out this weekend to rent the fabulous movies these men star in. Can't wait to hear back from all 5 of you :)

Forgive Me......

Forgive me, my babies, for waking weary on so many mornings...stumbling out of bed, not fully awake, resenting the intrusion that you caused on my sleep........I loved the cuddling, feeling your warm bodies snuggling into mine as we read books but, oh my, was your mama tired........

Forgive me for being the mom who drove you to school in jammies, hair all wild, no make-up, even shoeless, at times......I wanted to spend a few extra minutes around the table together or all piled on the couch reading books.....hopefully, I never embarrassed you too much......

Forgive me for being too hard on you or not hard enough......I tried my best to do what was best. I wanted so hard to get it right, to help shape you into the people that God created you to be. There were days that it was easier to give in, days where it was easier to just rage against a behavior or action rather than give you the love or attention you were seeking....know that, always, always, always I loved you.

Forgive me for cleaning, cooking, baking, doing laundry, talking on the phone, rushing off to a be somewhere else when you wanted to read or color or play with me.......I wanted to do those things too but there was a house to run, friends that needed a friend and a mama that needed a bit of time, too.........

Forgive me for not knowing so many things......not knowing how to let go easily, not knowing how to make things pretty, not knowing how to answer all your questions, not knowing how to balance it all without losing a bit of my sanity at times.........

Forgive me for all the decisions we made that were hard ones........know that we wanted to give you the world, we wanted everything for you. We wanted your life to be easy and fun and painless yet knew that this was not the best thing in order for your character to be formed and tested.............we knew this and had to watch the painful moments.........someday you will experience this with your own children and know how much we loved you in those moments..........

Forgive me, my babies...............I love you so very much, every moment etched upon my heart, treasured and stored up within me. Every mistake I made, I made with love. I had the very best of intentions, though they were lost, at times, when I began to lose myself. I hope that one day you will see me not just through the eyes of a child but the eyes of a parent and know how very much I love and treasure you.

The Second Generation.......

Back in college - those younger days, my carefree and completely irresponsible days - I had a friend named Megs. I am convinced everyone should have a Megs. Megs was the responsible one, the one who studied and went to class and kept her boyfriend from back home the entire time while at school and went on to marry him. She was the steady and stable to my more lazy and unpredictable.

Bekah and I would come in late at night and pounce on her bed and drag her out of bed in her pajamas to go on midnight drives with us. We would have to walk all the way out to "Siberia" where we parked and then Megs would take her place in the backseat, barely functioning, and we would sit upfront and talk and laugh and well, do unhealthy things to our lungs. Every once in awhile we would hear a screech if something flew back on Megs. We never wanted to go without her and half the fun was dragging her out of bed and making her come with us, knowing she would never refuse us.

Megs came with me to the art room when it was days before all the assignments were due for some art education class and, of course, I hadn't completed any - barely went to class - it seemed such a waste at the time. She came with me and helped me complete all those art projects. I think back and wonder why on earth Megs was so kind to me.........................

During student teaching she went out into the woods after dark with me to find pinecones for the next days lesson. I didn't want to go by myself and, again, nothing was as fun without hearing the long-suffering sighs of Megs. She was always so willing - a loving parent to an errant child, it seemed, at times.

The day before graduation is was Megs and I furiously trying to wipe marker off the walls of our bathroom. I thought it would be fun and cute to draw pictures and write things ALL OVER our bathroom and it says washable........so I did. I guess after weeks of being on a surface the washable is no longer washable. So once again Megs saved the day and we washed and painted so that we wouldn't have to pay a huge fine.

Just last year I went to Florida with Megs and Bekah for 4 days - my WONDERFUL husband organized it for my Christmas gift and sent me off with the girls. It was the first time since college that we had been alone for so long - just girls - no kids, no husbands, just us. It was amazing. One of the best thigs about it was being once again with Megs - the responsible one and surrendering the responsibility to her. I drove to pick her up and from then on ceased to worry about anything. I thought Megs is here.........she's got it.

And she did. Like always.

Everyone needs a Megs.

Pictures of our kids playing together the past weekend. Maybe future Grovers?