Picture from Grandma’s house

I don’t know if I have much to say this week, or if the thoughts will string together enough to make coherent sense. I kind of feel like that plate guy at the circus. Like I am spinning all these plates above my head and holding my breath that they don’t come crashing down. There are some seasons in life that just feel overwhelming. God is always faithful and on time, yet I have to say he certainly misses some great opportunities to be early. Just sayin’…from my mouth to God’s ears.  I say that with a smile, and he knowing my cheek, smiles back.  That in itself is a comfort.

In a way, this reminds of a situation where one of my children wanted rescued. Wanted me to intervene and transfer him from a class in school. Middle school. This teacher and my son’s personality clashed (understated).  This was a difficult teacher. He was militant and my son a creative, free spirit, funny and expressive young man. I don’t think I need to name names.  I had to meet with this teacher several times over and call him out on stuff.  (Mama Bears can be confronting) Yet, I refused to request a transfer. I think the teacher wanted it just as much as my son.  I wasn’t budging for either of them. I secretly enjoyed making this teacher uncomfortable and have to deal my spirited kid with no relief.  I know, cheeky of me.  For my son I saw this as an early lesson, a teaching opportunity. Throughout our journey here we will have seasons where there are difficult times, and/or difficult people, difficult relationships, difficult bosses and we have to work through it and not run away.

Of course, I am not talking about the times we have to respectfully walk away from a situation that is detrimental or poisoning.  I have seen woman remain in abusive situations forgiving over and over again.  Forgiving is one thing, tolerance is another.  There is no way or reason anyone should tolerate abusive situations.   Today my heart is heavy for those who have no control over the situation. Children especially, who do not have a Mama or Papa bear that guards, guides and protects them.  Children are precious, and they love without conditions, regardless of their situation.  I don’t know why my heart is so heavy for children today? Usually I take that as a cue.  I know it is not my heart that is heavy but Gods and it is my call to pray.  I will be the first to confess; I do not know or understand why God himself does not intervene in all cases.  Yet, I do know and understand that my own preservation as a child was the result of a grandmother’s unceasing prayers.  I have no doubt that without those prayers; my life would have taken a destructive path.   Unconditional love is so important and truly conquers.  Some of my young life was less than ideal. I saw and experienced situations children shouldn’t   I never felt unloved, at times unprotected, but not unloved.  I was not kept or protected from harmful experiences, but I was preserved.  My soul was preserved and my spirit unbroken.  It was like I went through some things that should have destroyed me but instead I came through it shielded with my heart guarded.  I wish I could explain it better.

One night I had a dream or a vision. I was taken through my past to watch every painful and frightening experience.  After viewing each event, I saw a huge shadow and then I literally felt the brush and breeze of an angel’s wing sweep over me. Then a hand in the form of a shield cover my heart to block and deflect arrows aim there.  With each moment there was a pause to allow me a cleansing cry before moving to the next scene which repeatedly followed with the shadow, the wing of the angel, the hand that shielded my heart. I woke weeping with thankfulness and humility. Not thankful that I went through hardship; thankful someone loved, interceded and intervened on my behalf. And as a result angels were set charge over me. I was preserved and my spirit unbroken, but still I had wounds that were unhealed. Wounds I did not acknowledge or even recognized until that vision brought healing and cleansing tears. All I can say, is this was real, brutally and beautifully raw. I believe the spiritual world is more real than what we can tangibly touch.

You may or may not believe in a God.  Making you believe in something is not my purpose here. I am sharing my experience and my perspective.  God is love. Love is powerful. Our love and care for one another makes all the difference.  Whether you pray, meditate, send heartfelt thoughts or simply care enough to make a positive expression, it sets into action supernatural forces.

Maybe this is all on my heart because this is the month my grandmother passed away on Valentine’s day. Love, how significant.  I know that no matter what challenges I face in life, I understand I will come through it with my spirit unbroken and my soul preserved.  Wounds are just a part, but they can heal.

This is something I wrote after my grandmother took her place in Gods loving arms.

She was a tiny lady, proof of that was her size 4 ½ shoe.  She taught me more than I can express in a few paragraphs. So that you can have a glimpse of this wonderful woman, I write. Time never eroded her youthfulness or her strength. Strength that was undeniable in every facet. I remember my grandmother in many ways. The fondest memories of her are those unexpected of the grandmother image.  Proving to me in her 60’s that she could still chop wood is one. Not that we ever needed wood chopped for the winter in South Florida.  Storms sweep in and knock the weakest part of trees and other debris everywhere. Grandma was not one to call for someone to do what she could do herself.

 It was most important for her to gather my cousins, myself and any other child she could fit in her little white Falcon with red interior.  Every Sunday she would make her rounds like a school bus and off to church we’d go. One of those mornings at the age of six I encountered God in a very real and tangible way. That experience set a course of protection and preservation throughout my life. I never acknowledged it till later years. At my grandmother’s request, angels were assigned to guard and keep me. They have never left my side. There was another very important event that happened on Sunday’s. This was a Miami Dolphin football game. Yes, it was my grandmother that instilled the love of football. Not just football, but “Miami Dolphin” football.  To this day there is still no other football team as far as I’m concerned. She could name players, call the play and argue the ref with the best of them. A tradition I uphold.  My grandmother became ill when I was pregnant with my daughter. Knowing her journey was ending, one of her desires was to live long enough to see my daughter born. That desire did not happen in earthly time. She passed on February 14, 1993. My daughter was born on April 7^th.  Her last words to me ‘Charlene, I want you to have my shoes; you’re the only one who can wear them.”   It didn’t hit me till later that wearing her shoes is a lot more than just sliding my also tiny feet in them. It was a mantle to carry on.

Servant of God, Well done!

Thy glorious warfare’s past

The battles fought, the race is won

And thou art crowned at last.