Ladies By Design

A Mother: Betty Clouse

The "Road of Life" has led me in many different directions with varying destinations.  Who would have ever imagined I would end up "at my age" in the Dallas, Texas area.  I chose to leave Texas many years ago headed for adventure in the great "Golden State" of California.  I remember writing a paper in an English class about what California had done for me.  I specifically said that California had been an "education" for me.  Living in California certainly was an education in many ways.  I was forced to be in an environment far from home and I was stretched in every possible way.  

California taught me the value of becoming a different person.  Now granted, some of us are very slow learners.  I would hope it never takes anyone who may read this as long as it took me to learn the lessons of life.  I learned that there was a huge world beyond the world surrounding the "Little Country Girl" from Bay City, Texas.  I learned there was a place where people didn't judge by their color and you were accepted for who you were.  At least it appeared to be such.  My mind was opened and the world was mine.  I just didn't have the ability to reach for the stars.  I didn't have the "tools of the trade."  God was continually working on me. 

I have struggled and continue to struggle with my plot in life of being where I am at the age I am.  I am always reminded of the scripture in Joel 2:25 "Then He will make up to me for the years that theswarming locust has eaten, The creeping locust, the stripping locust, and the gnawing locust....And I shall have plenty to eat and be satisfied, and praise the name of the Lord my God, who has dealt wondrously with me; Then I will never be put to shame.  Thus I will know that You are The Lord my God and there is no other."  I have inserted the first person to make it personal to me.  This scripture is totally about restoration and God is continually restoring me.

The title that has been captioned above my picture "The Mother", seems totally inappropriate as I have never given birth to a biological child.  But, just a little over two years ago as I was feeling so totally devastated after a Wednesday night Bible study  on "The Root of Bitterness", I was made aware I needed to forgive God for not giving me the opportunity to birth a child in the natural.  As a very good friend of mine led me into a time of inner-healing, my FATHER spoke to me and told me he had reserved me to be a "mother to many."  What did that mean?   You may ask how?  At the time I wasn't sure I could "Find the Value" in those words.

Now looking back over the last four years of my life, in many ways I have become!  I find it very interesting how just about everyone in my church  and even as far away as Zimbabwe calls me Aunt Betty. Just recently I had a newcomer to our congregation tell me "I am going to call you Aunt Betty" and another one "You are my only Aunt Betty."  I have one very dear man who calls me "Mama Betty." A couple of years ago as I was abou to leave Zimbabwe, several young girls told me "you have grandchildren in Africa."  How awesome is that?  As I reach out to my world here in my geographical area to be a mentor, aunt or mom, and me being a part of  "Ladies by Design", I do pray you will feel my love and prayers reaching your heart as you read our ministry to quite literally the world.  My prayer has been for years, "God I want to make a difference." I choose to believe I will be making a difference in your life as God moves my pen with inspiration as I write from my heart.  Stay tuned there are VOLUMES to come.

 

Giving A Uterus To Sierra Leone

 
Giving can be described in many ways. The first one that comes to most of our minds is in the form of money.  When we receive that dreaded phone call and the first thing that is said is "we are not asking for money" but the further into the conversation you get, they are either asking for stamps to be put onto envelopes or sponsoring some program or other. In church, giving most of the time means pulling out our checkbooks or reaching into our wallets. 

Recently after my eye surgery, actually about two weeks post op, I received a phone call with an incredibly sweet voice on the other end of the phone. "Aunt Betty, could you help me out?"  My friend, Summer wanted me to do a little sewing for her. Well, at that time, my eye was not very good but I really wanted to help her. 

Summer is a very unique person with deep roots in Africa. Her grandparents were missionaries and her mother is a native of Africa. I myself have always had a soft spot in my heart for Africa and in 2006, I was blessed by being able to travel to Zimbabwe. I attended a conference but was not able to go into the bush or see an orphanage which was a big disappointment for that trip. Since then I have dreamed of going back to see the real country, whether it be Zimbabwe or another country in Africa. As for Summer, she is studying to become a midwife after already earning her RN degree. She is such a delightful person and every time I see her, she is full of life, positive, and a pleasure to be around. 

As it turned out, she needed me to make three uteri. Now that seems like a very strange request doesn't it? Me sew a uterus? Even though my eyesight was very obscure and the vision of a uterus obscure as well, I assured her I could help her out. As time went by and I knew the deadline was approaching, I asked my husband to sketch a pattern of a uterus for me. I took an old white T-shirt and cut out three uteri, sewed them, put elastic in the opening and stuffed them with fiber-fill. Wow, a job successfully done exactly one day before the deadline. 

The next Sunday night the doorbell rang and Summer had come to pick up the uteri. I proudly took her back to my sewing room and showed her the finished product. Her lack of enthusium was easy to see even though she tried to look and be excited about my uteri. Unconvinced, I asked her, "Summer, are you sure they are OK?" She sweetly replied, "Well, do you think I could dye them red?" A little hesitantly I agreed, "Well, probably, but I have never dyed anything. When do you need them? As it turned out she had a deadline as well and we decided to make a new batch of uteri right then and there. Of course before beginning I asked if she was hungry and received an enthusiastic "Yes!". The only thing I could think to fix for her was a scrambled egg sandwich but it seemed to go down well.

I found a piece of red fabric from my stash and began to cut.  As I sewed, Summer ate her sandwich and when I finished sewing, she began to stuff each uterus. In a very short time we had our three red uteri! 

The reason for the uteri?  Summer and several collegues were going to Sierra Leone to teach and train the local women how to prevent excessive bleeding after childbirth and train on other issues as well, all relating to infant and mother mortality (Summer is the woman on the far right). 

When Summer first called and asked me to help her with a little sewing, quite frankly after I had said yes, I began to question myself why I didn't say no. I have a very hard time saying no to almost anything. Had I said no, just think how I would have missed out on the fun of spending time with her much less the opportunity I would have missed giving to the women of Sierra Leone. I really didn't give much. There was no money involved because I had everyting I needed. I only gave a few minutes of my time. I would like to think that those few minutes I gave will give life to many women and babies who will grow up to make a difference in the nation of Sierra Leone.

My husband and I hope to make a trip to Africa someday.  I have no idea which country it will be but perhaps it could be Sierra Leone and perhaps I might meet a mother or a child that lived because of the gift I gave.  There is a scripture that says "...I tell you, in as far as you did it to one of the least...you did it to Me (Matt 25:40).

 

Growing Roots

Spring has finally arrived.  Even though it arrived almost a month ago, it was still too early to plant.  My fingers were itching to "play in the dirt."  Just a week ago, my husband and I started landscaping the front lawn and it felt so good.  A totally different picture was painted and when the landscapers were finished and we stood in awe as we viewed the beautiful painting that had emerged.  We were and are so excited to see a dream become a reality.

Just a couple of days ago I was planting the above petunias in the back yard.  I was scooting around on my bottom because my knees were hurting.  As I sat in the dirt digging a hole for each plant to be placed, I thought how hard and clay-like the ground was.  As I pulled each petunia from it's container, I thought about how impossible it seemed that a tender root could penetrate the clay-like soil and begin to spread out seeking nourishment.  Now that they are planted, the roots must do what nature has taught them to do.  There is nothing I can do from beneath the soil to make them spread thus causing them to produce the blossoms of a beautiful flower.  It is my obligation to nourish them from the surface as I continue to water and fertilize them which encourages them to grow throughout the flowering season. I can encourage them but I can't make them grow.

This clivia is one of my favorite plants.  Just about three years ago, I purchased it as a very small  plant, maybe a six inch pot.  I have cared for it by transplanting it into larger containers as it grows.  Each winter when I hear that the first frost is coming, I will immediately bring it into the house for protection.  As I have given it tender loving care, it has established a good root system and multiplied.  Now I believe it is in an eighteen inch container.  The first year I had it, I had only one bloom in the dead of winter.  The last two winters, I have had two blooms.  This year, the above bloom is it's third for the season.   I just did some research on this plant and found a website for ordering.  A 10-inch terra-cotta pot with a blooming plant sells for $475.00.  I only paid about $12.00 as a small plant.  What a treasure I have

As I have been playing in the dirt, and realizing how important it is for plants to establish good roots, I sometimes wonder how well established are the roots in my life.  There are many different kinds of roots, i.e. character, integrity, honesty, beliefs, just to name a few.  Have I lived my days digging in order for my life to be supported by a well established root system?

My beliefs have been challenged recently thus causing me to go back to my roots.  To be specific, my character was slandered  but because I know who I am I didn't waiver under the attack. I am reminded of the old song I Shall Not Be Moved.  I am also reminded of the scripture "For he shall be like a tree planted by the waters, that spreads out its roots by the river, and shall not see and fear when heat comes, but it's leaf shall be green, he shall not be anxious and careful in the year of drought, nor shall he cease from yielding fruit" (Jeremiah 17:8).  I have had to go back to the word of the Living God, seek His nourishment, and reestablish my beliefs thus causing my roots to go deeper in what appears to be very hard soil.Tough moments such as this often are prime opportunities, not to become upset, but to remember to check our roots.

As my husband and I have worked on our landscaping, I have made a comment that we will be finished when this or that is done.  I know it will never be completed because there will always be a new plant added or one needing to be transplanted to a different location.  We will always be planting thus establishing new roots.  Just as we continue to work in our garden, we must check the roots of our lives by digging into His word, pulling the weeds that will encroach in the fertile ground of our lives.  I encourage you to start digging.  Yes, it takes time and can become a little messy at times, but the end result is a plant that is very beautiful and valuable and that is your life.  Happy digging!

 

I Can See Clearly Now

"I can see clearly now the rain is gone, I can see all obstacles in my way, Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind, Its gonna be a bright, bright sunshiny day."

Almost two months ago, I had a cornea transplant.  Am I able to see clearly now?  No, in fact things are very, very obscure and it is quite difficult to see.  In fact, very frustrating at times.  Then why would I entitle this "I Can See Clearly Now?"

I have a disease called Fuchs Dystrophy.  I was diagnosed about fifteen years ago and was told that I would be a candidate for a cornea transplant.  Not me!  I am quite certain you have never heard of the disease much less met another person who has it  I didn't until just a few minutes before I was wheeled away to surgery.  God is a pretty cool fellow.  I was extremely nervous.  I have had several surgeries and I have never felt as anxious as I did going into this one.  I told my brother they could do a hysterectomy or a gallbladderectomy but when my eyes/sight is involved, that is a totally a scary thing.

As different hospital personnel began to come into my room in preparation for my surgery, a lovely lady and her husband walked into the room and took their place in the opposite bed.  When she overheard a conversation about my surgery, she questioned who my doctor was and what I was having done.  Would you believe she had the same doctor and had had the same surgery I was having?  I turned to my husband and was so thankful to God that I had been given the encouragement and reassurance I needed to help me through this time in my life. Isn't that just like God?

I would like to give you a little education regarding Fuchs Dystrophy.  I am told it is hereditary.  There is blood supply to the cornea and after one has cried or when your eyes have been shut i.e. asleep, the fluid builds up behind the cornea.  The cells within the cornea act as little pumps, thus pumping the fluid from the cornea.  Well, my little pumps have and are deteriorating.  Many times when I am trying to see, just imagine yourself looking through a plastic bag.  That will give you an idea how cloudy my vision is.  Anything but clear.

I have lived in total denial that I would ever have to have surgery.  I was believing and praying for God to give me a new cornea.  We always expect things to be done our way, but rarely does this happen.  I was refusing to admit how bad my sight was.  Many times, especially in the morning, I would be driving and I realized I shouldn't be.  I had a difficult time telling the color of the traffic light.  That is pretty scary, wouldn't you say?

How many times in my life have I looked through blinded eyes?  I have looked through the eyes of religion, denomination and what others have said.  I wonder just how distorted my vision really is.  I have had and still do have many questions , but have I had them because I refused to go to the Source for my answers?  I have relied on others and now I wonder if my spiritual vision is blurred.  There is a song we sing that says, "I want to see what you see, I want to hear what you hear."  How do I do this?  I must go to His word, the Source in order to see what He says in order for me to see clearly.

In the natural, I had to go to the source, a medical miracle, in order to see clearly.  Can I see clear now two months post surgery?  Better than before.  In fact, I am writing this article without the use of my glasses and I am reading a book without glasses.  Am I excited?  You bet I am.  I asked the doctor recently at a followup appointment, "why didn't you tell me two years ago how good it would be?"  He just turned and smiled at me.  I can just imagine my heavenly father turning and giving me a smile when I go to him with blurred vision as if to say "I told you how wonderful it would be." 

 

Letting Go & Flying High

I have often wondered how exhilarating it would feel to soar high above the earth in a hot air balloon totally free from any restraints that has kept me grounded.  Some years ago I stood in my backyard in California and watched these beautiful works of art soar across the sky.  Perhaps their occupants were letting go of fear and anxiety.  They were going places and seeing things I could never do with my feet on the ground in familiar territory.

In the mid 80's, I was invited by a co-worker to join a Bible study.   This was to be held during lunch hour every Monday.  My first thought and inner argument was "I don't need to go" and "You can't teach me anything because, I know the Bible."  After many arguments with myself, I agreed to attend.  Was I in for a surprise from God! I sat around the table surrounded by many professional people.  Looking back now, I was the only one clothed in self righteousness.  There was a beautiful black woman who began to share her previous weekend.  She began to tell us her experience while driving through the mountains.  Her windows were open and the wind and wonderful scents of nature began to engulf her, She was in the presence of her God.  In my mind I began to pass a judgment.  There was something about this picture that wasn't right.  I thought, "You don't look like a christian." Simply because she didn't look how I thought a christian should look. I concluded "How can you feel the presence of God?"  My heart was immediately humbled as God began to tell me, "How do you know what I am doing for her?"  I immediately expressed my regrets to God, I will do better.  This began my journey of letting go of judgments.

I will tell you it has not been easy to let go.   My heart was totally polluted.  I looked at everything through the clouded eyes of judgment.  My heart was in constant turmoil.  I knew what it felt like to have others pass judgment on me.  I was doing the same thing.  It is amazing how we are able to justify our own actions.  I thought I knew what was right.  I began to be in a constant state of checking my thoughts and heart.  Oh, how I have changed.  I find myself always trying to overlook and understand where people are coming from.  Before I didn't know how to feel how others might feel.  I didn't take the time to find out what their world might look like.  I remember passing judgment on a beautiful lady who got a promotion.  She was a new hire and I had been there a long time.  Why didn't I get it?  In reality I didn't even want it.  I hated my job.  I wasn't happy with my life.  Instead of turning the mirror on myself and trying to find out where my feelings were coming from, I chose to become jealous.  It was very difficult to have to go to that person at a later time and say I was sorry for my attitude.   Have I arrived some twenty plus years later?  No.  Am I better?  Yes. 

Several years ago my church was having a spring fling in the parking lot. There were many games being played.  We had a dunking tank and the featured target was our pastor.  We all had a blast buying our tickets and watching him take a plunge into the water.  There were many booths in which to buy food, the usual, hot dogs, cotton candy and popcorn.  One of the main attractions was a basketball competition.  Many of the grown men were aggressively showing their stuff.  Basketball is what attracted  a rough looking young man to walk onto the parking lot.  He was from the neighborhood and wanted to join in.  Before my journey of letting go began, I would have looked at him through different eyes.  He was tattooed, pierced and from a very different background.  I loved him from the very first time I saw him.  As it turned out, he had a very touching story.  From within he was a very beautiful person.  Just a few months ago, after having been gone for quite some time, he walked into church one Sunday morning and my heart was overjoyed to see him.  As you might tell, he has a very special place in my heart.   If I had known him many years ago, before my learning to let go, would I have been able to open that place of my heart to accept him for who he was?  I don't know but what a blessing I would have missed.  I would have been the loser.  How many blessing have I missed because I held onto judgments, instead of letting go?

When my heart was so imprisoned by the chains of judgments, I was unable to see others in the way God intended.  I immediately began to judge them by their appearances.  This went much further than a religious standpoint.  I would sit on the sidelines and judge them for having fun and enjoying themselves.  All the while I was yearning to feel what they felt.  My judgments kept me from enjoying life.   I have learned to unlock those chains.  I have learned to laugh, in fact I just told someone last night how much I enjoy laughing with them.  It feels oh so good. 

I challenge you to take a look at the judgments that might be keeping you from being who you were meant to be.  It truly is an exhilarating experience.  I haven't yet taken my ride above the earth in a hot air balloon.  However, I have risen and flown far above where I used to dwell with my judgments.  I promise you it is so rewarding.  Try it and be blessed.

"I have the strength for all things in Christ who empowers me." Phil. 4:13

 

An Alter

Several weeks ago my pastor's wife (my niece) gave a Bible study about altars.  She worked her way through the scriptures giving examples of different kinds of alters as she encouraged us to create an altar in each of our homes.  She had an altar displayed on the platform and I began to think about what I could put on mine and where I would place it in my home.  In my mind I began to shop and to think about what to buy to display my altar.  I was trying to relate to the same items that were displayed on her altar and replicate hers.  I have a tendency to always follow a pattern and do what others do.  I find it difficult to explore my own creativity and identity.  I have asked myself and many others, "How is that working for you/me?" Oops! Back to my altar.  Pastor told us that each of our altars would be different and wouldn't look the same.  As I thought about creating my altar with pillars and a marble slab across the top, where would I place it.  Would it be a place that would gather dust and how often would I visit it.  Would it become a familiar place as I walked past it day after day?  Would it become just another piece of furniture that becomes so ordinary?  Again I thought about where mine might be placed and whomever knows me might guess, I realized where I have been creating my altar for the last four years and that is none other than my garden.

My backyard garden started out like a blank easel.  There was nothing except three trees and a sprinkler system.  I was almost in a panic because I am not a landscaper.  By the way, are you familiar with self talk?  I have told myself and continue to say I am not this, I am not that.  I am continually being proved wrong.  Because I am being stretched.  I use the term stretched quite often don't I?   Maybe there is a blog to be written about being stretched.  Oh, well back to my backyard altar.  If I remember correctly, the first thing I did was have a sidewalk poured because I had to step off the patio directly on the grass, there was no walkway to take me to the driveway.  If it rained it was quite messy maneuvering my way outside the yard. 

Oh yes, I had to have gutters installed and a fence built to enclose my sanctuary that was in the design stage.  After four years and many hours and dollars, my altar is continuing to become a beautiful painting.   

I have planted many plants that I thought would be a beautiful addition to my painting but they were too fast growing and encroached on other plants.  I have had to dig them out and redesign my sanctuary.  Many times I have crowded my life with activities which have hindered growth and I have had to dig out and prune in order to return to my altar.  My altar is where I grow and find strength to fulfill my destiny. 

I have made many additions to my altar i.e. my garden and it is a continual project.  It probably will never be complete.  Each spring I dig out plants I thought would be appropriate but I found that after a few years of growth, they were totally not the right plant.  Just recently, I dug up several plants and passed them on to a dear friend.  I thought of this scenario and it is like our lives.  There will be things in our lives we have to prune and dig up but as we do this, we are able to help another person's garden (life) become a beautiful  masterpiece in God's art gallery as we offer words that will fertilize their garden.  If I physically come in contact with you, I pray I have a seed to plant in your garden and help it become a beautiful flowering garden of God's love. I encourage you to take out the old rusty garden tools that have become encrusted with all the tares that would make you believe you are unable to create your altar and let God's oil of anointing wash away all the weeds of discouragement and grime that has tried to take control of your garden.

Each time I take the time to relax and worship with my earphones in and listen to my worship songs on my patio, I see the butterflies in their magnificent array of color.  I also see the many birds dipping themselves in the bird bath and singing their praises to their creator.  The trees are swaying back and forth as they lift their leaves to the one who created them many thousands of years ago.  These creatures are not encouraged to do what they are intended to do.  They just do it.  Why is it so hard for you and me to do what we were made to do.  I was created to worship him and always present myself willingly on my altar of worship.  My desire today as I start my busy schedule is to always remember my altar and visit it as often as I need to in order to gain strength and grow into the big and tall person I was destined to become.   Be blessed my sisters wherever you are and whatever stage you are in the process of creating the beautiful garden of your life.

 

Freedom

I cannot believe yesterday was the day that marked the year 2009 was half over.  Today begins the second half thus putting us just three days from the holiday to mark the freedom and independence of our country, The Good Old USA.  On July 4, 1776, the Second Continental Congress unanimously adopted the Declaration of Independence thus declaring we were free.  Every person in this country walks in freedom but I must contend the vast majority walk bound with chains and locks rather than walking in total freedom.  You may ask why, we are a free country, you just said so, the constitution gives me freedom.

Last year I gave a speech in Toastmasters titled "Forgiveness."  Webster gives the definition as "the act of an instance of forgiving.  A few synonyms are: pardon, grace, absolution and amnesty.  When is the last time you definitely felt like an injustice was committed against you.  How does that make you feel?  When is the last time you offered the gift of forgiveness?

I want you to imagine you are listening to me give this speech and picture in your mind as I give my examples.  I borrowed some heavy chains to demonstrate my point.  I asked this tall stout man to come to the stage and assist me as I gave my speech.

The first example I gave was that John's father (not his real name) was never there for him.  He was totally emotionally absent from him, even abused him and always told him; he wasn't good enough and he would never amount to anything and would always be a failure.  John heard it so many times it became his belief system.  At some point in life he realized he was much better than his father had told him and he decided to walk into his destiny.  At this point he became very angry with his father and made a vow in his heart that he would never forgive his father.  His father was long dead thus this vow didn't hurt his father, it became a chain around John's neck.  At this point I put a chain around his neck and asked him to stoop just a little to indicate the heaviness of unforgiveness.

My second example was of a beautiful girl who had been done wrong by the justice system.  Wrongly convicted of false charges thus being sentenced to serve time in a federal prison.  At this time I placed another heavy chain around John's neck and asked him to stoop just a little lower.  I visited this person many times and I admonished her that at some point in her life she would have to forgive the perpetrators.  If she choses not to address this, the justice system couldn't care less and the burden lies with her.

Another example I used was my own.  There were many past hurts and wounds in my life.  As I talked about many of these, I placed another heavy chain around John's neck and asked him to stoop just a little lower.  At this point, he was almost in a 45 degree angle.  Can you imagine what it would be like to walk around for the rest of his life in a very stooped position. 

Well, I am here to tell you that is exactly the way many people are walking every day of their lives.  They don't know it and can't even begin to figure out what is wrong.  I am telling you unforgiveness is like a cancer gradually sucking the life from each individual.  I am currently in communication with a beautiful young lady and it is a process she is walking through, trying to forgive herself.  If we are not able to forgive, we are putting ourselves above God because he has already forgiven all of us. 

As I continued with my speech, John was able to forgive his father as he realized he was operating out of past wounds that were perpetrated by his father.  As John was able to offer forgiveness to his father, I took a chain from his neck and asked him to raise himself just a little, thus indicating the load was a little lighter.  The beautiful young lady who was wrongly convicted by the justice system was able to offer forgiveness and another chain was removed and John shoulders were just a little straighter.  I was able to offer forgiveness for the wounds of my past and the last chain was removed and John stood straight as an arrow. 

We will be celebrating the 4th of July in three days and I ask you how would it make you feel if you were able to celebrate your personal freedom?   The book that is depicted above "Ties That Bind" played a very integral part of my being able to offer forgiveness thus helping me walk in freedom.  I leave you with this rhetorical question, Is there someone whom you could offer the gift of forgiveness?  If you are able to do so, this will be the greatest gift you could ever give yourself.  Have a wonderful Independence (Freedom) Day.  Dance til your heart is filled with joy and walk in freedom as you fulfill your destiny.

 

To Dance

Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass; it’s about learning to dance in the rain.  Have you ever played in the rain as a child?  I have, in fact I believe I mentioned in one of my earlier writings about becoming totally soaked while walking to the bus and having to go to school in a rain-soaked dress.  Sometimes even now when it rains, I often wonder what it would feel like to play in the rain again.  Passers by would probably think I was a little on the weird side but the next time it is raining, if you know where I live, and you are the least bit curious, you might drive by my house and find me being a child again playing and dancing in the rain. 

I have learned that life really is intended to be filled with fun and enjoyment.  That was a foreign concept to me for most of my life.  In fact until the last few years, I didn’t really know what fun felt like; much less know the joy of dancing.  Dancing was always portrayed as evil but in every instance when I saw someone dancing whether it was ballroom, waltz, line, two step or whatever, the participants were having such fun.

 

With my upbringing, when some years ago, dance was introduced into the church as part of worship, I was very piously skeptical at first thinking  "Oh my goodness, how far have we allowed ourselves to stray from the path?"  I was many times left in a quandary because I would allow myself to acknowledge there was total worship and communication with the almighty but can this really be okay?  I gradually began to listen and trust the voice speaking to me.  I was able to step over the obstacle of doubt and judgment and see a loving father asking me for a first dance.  Can you imagine how awkward I felt at first and still do at times?  Me dancing in the arms of my father?  

 

I have seen pictures of little girls standing on their daddy’s feet dancing.  I have also seen a dad dancing with their little girls on his knees because he is so much bigger.  My heavenly father is continually inviting me to dance with him and I know he has to bend very low because he is so much bigger than me. 

 

I have a very dear friend, Michele, who is a worshipper.  When I first met her several years ago, I found myself in total rapture as I watched her and her daughter as they worshipped.  Michele is a dancer both in worship and in a party environment like a wedding reception.  She becomes totally lost in dance whether it is in the arms of her heavenly father or dancing by herself on the dance floor. Just this past week I saw her dancing totally enraptured with her infant son Zachery in her arms.  Michele, I am watching you girl. 

 

About 4 ½ years ago I started a life management seminar which lasted for four months.  I will never forget how totally out of place I felt.  I saw most of the participants dancing and having fun.  My how I wished I could dance.  I didn’t even know how to start moving my feet.  Gradually I began to move just a little but always very conscious about how I might look to others.  Wow, is that a mirror to my life, always worried about what others might think.  Since Pathways, my feet haven’t stopped.  Each time I hear music, I start to move.  I will tell you I am no better at dancing than I was a few years ago, but it sure is fun to be free to dance.  There is a line of a worship song we sing at church that says, I am free to dance, I am free to run.  I really am free to be.

 

I challenge you to dance.  Forget about what others may think.  It’s all about you.  Whether you are dancing with your heavenly father or with a special someone unlock the chains that have you bound and learn to dance.  I recently took a couple of lessons to learn the two-step and the waltz.  It was very  challenging at first but very fun as I suspected.  Try it.  Dance just may be your thing.

 

Memorials

If you are a regular reader of Ladies By Design, perhaps you have wondered  "where have all the ladies gone?"  We are still here.  I learned some time ago the definition of procrastination is creative avoidance.  I am really good at it.  I have found every excuse you can imagine not to sit down and write.  Here are some of them: I am too busy, I have nothing to say, I am not a writer and I just don't want to.  Does this sound like anything you have voiced within your mind or verbally to someone close to you?   By procrastinating we are failing to create memorials.  I am continually being coaxed by "someone" and sometimes not so gently to write.  So here we go...

This morning I began to think about writing and seriously considering what to say and this being Memorial Day, my mind began to focus on memorials in my life.  What am I doing to create a memorial or a legacy?  I am not as young as many of you reading this. Don't worry, this is not my farewell address!  I plan on sticking around many years to come. I come from a family with GREAT longevity.  My aunt (whom I was born on her birthday) lived to be 101, my dad was three months shy of 90, his baby sister died last year at 97 and his only surviving sister just turned 101.  I plan to be here for a very long time.

In 1990 I visited the Vietnam memorial in Washington, DC.  I had a very good friend who had lost a brother in the war. I was able to find his name and I took a pencil and paper and made an imprint of his name to bring back to her in California.  He had left his imprint on society.  I visited the Smithsonian and the Wright brothers left their memorial as well as many others in the aviation development of this country.  I visited the Lincoln, Jefferson, Washington Memorials and many other landmarks of our capitol.  All of these people dared to dream in order to create a memorial.

Recently, my sister and I were creating a heritage scrapbook for our older sister for her birthday.  After we spent many hours selecting the pictures, going all the way back to my mother as a very young girl and working our way up through many of our family snapshots and school pictures, we found it very difficult  to create this scrapbook.  Both of us are quite good at "scrapping" but why was this one so difficult?  We both agreed the reason was that there were no events to enhance the photographs, they were just pictures.  None of us had been involved in sports, no school activities and really nothing causing us to recall memories associated to these pictures and our childhood.  Did someone just take snapshots?  Yes, and thank God someone did otherwise there would be no reference points at all.  But, I wonder what the impact would have been if I would have had a picture of myself in my choir robe as part of the choir in a competition.  What if we had a picture of our older brother in a numbered jersey with his high school team dropping a ball into the basket?  Can you imagine the difference in our scrapbook?  We would have had many embellishments whereas we only had pictures with no memorials to attach to his name.  What if we had pictures of my sister in a creative writing contest and winning a statewide competition?  That would have been a wonderful page layout.  Are we going through life just snapping pictures with no memorials attached?

I have visited the Punch Bowl National Cemetery in Hawaii and the Arlington National Cemetery in Washington, DC as well as a cemetery in Normandy, France.  Each grave marker, there are literally thousands in each cemetery, is a memorial to that person for the sacrifice that was paid for the freedom of this country.  Many of them chose to serve their country as well as many were drafted.  I would like to think that the majority of them whether they were drafted or volunteered there was a desire within them to defend the freedom of their country.  Each one of them lived their life creating memorials for their loved ones left behind.

Today I watched the Dr. Phil show and was reminded of the atrocities of the foster care system in our country.  I was so saddened and appalled by the memorials that are left behind by the neglect of our society on the children that fall through the "cracks" of the system.  I was near tears when I saw this beautiful young girl and heard what she had endured at the hands of her mother and stepfather and later in the foster homes she was forced to be in.  Yes, memorials were made for a lifetime but oh how awful the consequences.  

I want to make lasting memorials for the people who are dear to me as well as to the world around me.  I have a few items in my home that have been specifically designated to go to nieces when I am gone.  I hope I will be remembered each time these items are looked at and memories will be vivid in their minds of the legacy and memorials that Aunt Betty has left behind.  What are you doing today to establish memorials in your life?  There is the story of the woman in the Bible who poured precious perfume on the head of Jesus and the scripture says ....."what this woman has done let it be told for a memorial of her."  I challenge you to give to others today. Reach out to a child who lacks the hug of a mother/father and tell them just how special they are.  Offer healing words to someone who has suffered at the hands of an abusive spouse.  Tell them they are loved with an everlasting love.  Your life will be filled with love as you give unconditional love to others.  Let doing for others be a part of your world by making a difference as you create a memorial.

 

The Broken Road

 Have you ever walked down a "Broken Road?"  You may ask what I mean by a broken road.  Well, let me tell you what a broken road looks like to me.  It is a road that has many detours, pot holes, unsafe driving conditions, soft shoulders, a road going no where, one that has no barrier dividing the two way traffic, one that has no stop signs, no traffic lights, well, you get the picture.

This broken road of my life started many years ago.  My mother became pregnant shortly before or during the death of her baby girl of 21 months.  While my mother was alive, I never knew of the timing of my birth.  I later learned there are many ramifications that will follow the child that is conceived/born under these circumstances.  That child may have bonding issues, trust issues and relationship issues.  Actually the list is quite long.  The parents may unknowingly put higher expectations upon that child.

There was always great conflict between my father and me.  I could never please him no matter how hard I tried.  I never seemed good enough.  He never told me he loved me.  I know he did to the best of his ability.  Now I have learned enough to know he probably was never shown love when he was a child, therefore he had no idea how to show love.  He was handicapped as the result of infantile paralysis which was later known as polio.  Later as a young man, he put his good hand through a window during a severe storm and that hand became crippled.  What a predicament!  I learned as an adult that hand was almost amputated because of infection.  Thank God that didn't happen.  My father was uneducated, could not read or write and really had no labor skills.  He was a sharecropper, drilled water wells, had a dry cleaners, garbage truck, fish truck and a snow cone truck, just to name a few of the things he did to try to make a living.  I have great respect for him for his untirirg efforts to keep body and soul together and provide for his family.

I was raised in a very legalistic church.  You did what you were told and did not question anything.  If you did, you were considered rebellious.  All I was ever taught was the "wrath of God" and don't, don't.  He was waiting for me to do something wrong and surely I would be struck by an angry God.  My father was very domineering.  I could do nothing for fun.  I remember one time I asked him if I could go across the road and play baseball with cousins and neighborhood kids.  I was told no so I asked my mother and she allowed me to go.  The next thing I knew he was coming after me and great consequences were paid for disobeying my father.  Now you see that as a child, I walked down a very broken road.  I was very dedicated to my church and passed judgment on anyone who didn't belong to my church.  There was only one way to God and it was the way that I knew.  I almost narrowed it down to my particular assembly.  Boy was I ever wrong.

When you are raised not being able to think for yourself you become very vulnerable.  You cannot make decisions on your own.  Surely it will be wrong.  When you finally do make a decision against everyone's advice and it turns out to be a wrong one, all confidence is stolen from you. 

At the ripe old age of 21, I surely thought I was going to be an "old maid."  I was so intent on finding the perfect husband for myself.  I went off to Bible school to "learn more about God." of course with the strong desire to find a husband.  I met a very charming and very good looking man from Hawaii.  He drove a sports car and was very dashing.  My best friend told me that if I didn't marry him she would.  Well, would you believe that as soon as we started to get serious, suddenly everyone seemed to know the "will of God" for my life.  I had been very torn about our relationship because I wanted the perfect will of God for my life.  As soon as people started to use the racial issue to say it wasn't the will of God, I was determined to prove them wrong.  I knew they were speaking against it purely because of the brown skin.  This all happened at the very beginning of the civil right era.

We married on a Friday night and left for California on Sunday morning.  I was out to conquer the world.  Now if you can imagine, I was from a small town of about 15,000, never really lived on my own.  I went from my father's house to a very rigid Bible school dormitory to a relationship domineered by my husband.  As I later found out, my husband came from a very broken past.  He had been orphaned at the age of two or three years old.  Boy, were we in for a ride.  We have always been told that two halves make a whole.  Well, you can scrap that saying.  You can never take two broken people and put them together and expect to have a whole, happy marriage. 

After about three weeks, I found that marriage was far different than the romance novels I had read.  It wasn't roses, presents, romancing and always trying to make me happy.  There was a lot of anger and hurt that began to surface.  My thought was "where did that come from?"  As I mentioned earlier, the background I came from didn't in any way begin to prepare me to deal with life outside the church.  I found inside the church people were not trained to effecrively teach/help their people to work through their problems.  When an issue would arise and the pot began to boil, a little bit of steam would escape and then the lid would be forced back on to squelch the boiling turmoil just waiting for it to explode again.  Can you imagine living for many, I mean many years under circumstances like this.  I certainly didn't want anyone to throw it back into my face "see I told you so."  I began to pretend that no one could see what was going on.  I convinced myself no one knew.  I always told myself and everyone else "you create your own happiness."  To a certain degree, I believe this is true.  You can choose to have a good day or a lousy one but after many years of conflict one day runs into another and you begin to wonder when does this all end.  There didn't seem to be an end.  The days became weeks, weeks became months and months became years.  Year after year and nothing changed.  I felt like I was inside a deep dark hole and there was no way out.  Well in the year 2004, a mutual agreement was made to go our seperate ways.  In many ways this was the best thing that happened for both of us.  When I say the best thing, it certainly didn't mean the easiest thing that ever happened.  The last four years have in some ways been the hardest times of my life.  Learing to do "it" on my own but with the help of freinds, family and of course God, I have made it this far.

If you recall, I started this blog with a question about a "Broken Road."  The Road to Success is not straight.  There is a curve called Failure, a loop called Confusion, speedbumps called Friends, red lights called Enemies, caution lights called Family.  You will have flats called Jobs.  But if!!  You have a spare called Determination, an engine called Perserverance, insurance called Faith, a driver called Jesus, you will make it to a place called SUCCESS.  Of course success in in the eyes of the beholder.  What I call success may not mean success to you.  Because I have experienced the "Broken Road", I AM A CONFIDENT, CARING, HAPPY WOMAN AND I MATTER!!!