Heart Words...

not instinct ...

... intentional
 

... the moment when you feel its release 

... the joy and wonder of living in the present, not the past

... the realization that you gifted yourself by giving it to others

... finally understanding 

Loving ... 
                Forgiving ...
                                   Living with intention.

     H o n u  g i r l 

a birthday wish ...

Happy 40th Birthday   Sweet-T !!!

     H o n u  g i r l                         

Sometimes its hard ...

to trust.

I know this personally...  its at those times when you feel like you are limited to "what statistics say" or what history proves or ... sometimes its just the painful truth that there's nothing you can do to change the circumstances.

But no matter what, there is one thing I know I CAN do that WILL make a difference.

   P R A  Y

    I KNOW that God answers prayer and ...
    that FAITH is the key that opens the door

Last week we prayed every night for family/friends.  This week we are saying thanks for numerous answers to those prayers.

Back to the trust, though...  there are times when the need seems SO great that I know I'm praying for nothing less than a MIRACLE... yet I pray ...  I believe ... and I know that all things work together for good ...


it's all I can do to 

 

For King G ...  


                  I am praying ~


                              I am believing ~ 
  
                                                I am ...

     H o n u  g i r l                         

Words ...

What's your love language?

W O R D S  do it for me every time...

When I am not in a happy place in time or space my solution is to find a card from a friend or loved one (probably no difference) ...and re-read it.

However, if I'm away from home, I stop by a Walgreens or Riteaid maybe even Fred Meyer and walk down the card isle reading cards.  Perhaps I'm hoping to find a perfect card to give someone else, a perfect card I'd like to receive myself, but mostly reading a bunch of cards that just make me feel better.

Sometimes this can take a few minutes, sometimes a lot longer, but no matter how long it takes I always find a card that says "just the right thing" to lift my mood and carry me on to a greater moment of JOY!

[ Okay.  My Sweet-T says I must include the fact that it's not the perfect card, but nearly "ANY" card that makes me smile, giggle or Ahhhh.   In fact, to his credit he stood an extra 15 minutes at the store the other day while my boys and I read cards to "possibly" give to my brother for his 50th birthday.... yeah, we read them all and LAUGHed until we cried.   Hah, just so ya know they picked the best one... better than mine even -- but I digress ... ]

Really this works ... for me.   However, if Sweet-T is with me I show him cards I "would give him" and vice versa ... a new thing for him, but he's adapted to the pseudo receipt of the card and putting it back ... ( FYI  he's pretty awesome at picking the perfect cards!  tee hee ...  LOVE cup full  cha ching!)

I feel SO much better and can truly COPE with whatever comes my way.

~


I discovered the other day that this word-thing works for me "SECOND HAND."  

Example:

      The other day I was at my friend's house (aka my mother-in-law, but she was my friend first, so we decided to stick with that title) when I was offered the use her personal powder room upstairs since the downstairs facilities were occupied.   While washing my hands I saw a beautiful card on the counter with familiar handwriting (hey, it was already open, I was not snooping).

      I read it and nearly cried ... I felt so incredible about life, love and even, a certain level of emotional satisfaction.  My next thought was, "how silly: I'm the one who gave my friend this card -- how is it that I'm the one who feel so loved?"  Conclusion:   "I'm just weird."

     * then i saw a second card on the stair well shelf while heading downstairs ...  I felt doubly-special (which I think I just made-up, but it accurately describes how I feel.   hah!) *

      This same thing has happened more than once  ... reading a card I gave to someone else and having the incredible feeling of being well, ummm "loved?" ...  is there some self-love psychology in that???

~

ANYWAY....

       These experiences just reinforce the truth I've known for a long time -- my love cup is full when words fill my world.  A conversation, a card, a post-it love note, an email or facebook post.

I'm just simple that way.

~

So if I could I would say something really clever -- better even than a Hallmark card or American Greetings -- but for now, I shall rely on the best quote available:


  "Scatter JOY!"    ralph waldo emerson   

so stated again by my favorite card writer ... 

Happy Valentine's Day!

                       Honugirl 

           

        

Save the spray for other spots ...

everything has God's fingerprints on it!

Although it seemed like a normal morning when the alarm sounded... my pounding headache suggested that today could be "one of those days". I immediately (after the 2nd snooze) drug my body off the bed with half open eyes found my way to the kitchen drawer where the powerful gel caps for migraines/tension/stop-the-pounding-in-my-head medicine resides.

I swallowed them down rather easily, by-passing the need for my usual "control-the-gag reflex" self-talk routine necessary to consume my daily vitamins. It may even have helped that I drank an energy drink with high concentration of vitamin B and proprietary herbs... wait now, these are the healthy kind of herbs people (certainly legal in any quantity)!!

BEEEP, BEEEP, BEEEP ... Al-righty then, another alarm sounds -- time for the boys to get up. Must skip espresso routine. Notice the empty kitchen sink. Turn light on in boys room down the hall. Notice the time. Wonder how it took 30 minutes to get pain killer and go back to take a shower? Hmmm, the mysteries of a Thursday morning.

Reminder:

God's fingerprints are in the smiling kitchen sink on a 2-snooze, need pain killer, no-latte morning.

Then came breakfast... while the boys ate, I struggled to cleanly cut the Magic Cookie Bar Treats I made last night for Thursday Treats at the office.

Being a tiny bit concerned about a successful outcome, I took my sample bite (honestly, I didn't followed the recipe 'exactly' -- I "guess-ti-mated" the amount of chocolate chips and coconut to sprinkle on top.)

After eating my sample, I announced to the tall young man who was now standing over my treat dish -- "uh-oh, Jason, I think there's too much chocolate."

To which he replied: "Mom, there can never be too much chocolate!"

"True, but you deserve a taste to decide for yourself" -- I handed him a small portion and watched with interest as he portrayed all the facial expressions and mouth movements of a professional bakery taster savoring the distinctive flavors and preparing to critique the pastry chef.

"Well, I have to agree, the chocolate overpowers the flavor of the coconut; maybe you should follow the recipe next time, Mom -- there would be more balance."

I was so impressed and befuddled that I gave him another one and said -- "good plan, we'll go with that."

Reminder:

God's fingerprints are in the beauty of 'graceful suggestion' rather than critical words.

Last night Jeffrey wanted to make cupcakes (announcing his dislike for coconut in my recipe). So he gathered the cake mix, bowl, eggs and measured the ingredients. He mixed it together by hand and then with a mixer until the batter was just right. We set the temperature together and I helped with pouring and oven placement. Then he watched the timer, waiting patiently for his reward -- a beautifully browned bunch of cup cakes fresh from the oven!

"Can we eat one tonight?" he asked hopefully. As tough as it was, I said he should wait until morning and have one with breakfast instead.

Morning had come, breakfast was eaten, cleaning routine completed and he had observed his brother consume two bites of chocolate coconut treats already. A if on cue, Jeffrey requested permission to taste his own cupcake, with a nod of my head, he quickly peeled the wrapper and began to enjoy the fruits of his labor (he even offered one to his brother).

He giggled with joy after bite number two and sweetly brought his half eaten piece to me for a taste -- usually I decline cake, but he was so adorable about making it -- I couldn't refuse him the pleasure.

I made a big deal out of that bite -- and to my taste buds surprise he had secretly dropped chocolate chips into the center of each cupcake before baking!

He was so delighted with his mouth-watering goodness he announced (as proof) -- "see, Mom, there can never be too much chocolate!!!"

Reminder:

God's fingerprints are on hidden greatness in the center of something simply "good."

The work day seemed to drag on slowly. The boys will not be home until Sunday. My emails lurk with unresolved status. It's cold outside. The snow flurries are expected for this weekend.

My headache is gone. Ornaments viewed during lunch bring words of faith, hope, blessing, grace and "believe." The day seemed to end quickly. A phone call creates an unexpected opportunity to see the boys. My friends bring smiles through personal visits, email encouragement and long calls filled with laughter. What a blessed day.

Just when I think I'm in a sticky spot, needing some spray to clean up what I view as a mess; I'm reminded to stop for a second to breathe in the beauty of the moment. I begin to relax and soon I'm whispering "thanks, God for leaving your fingerprints on my day!"

Reminder:

God is the midst of every day - touching each event - leaving His fingerprints throughout moments in my world.

HonuGirl

Past comfort…

Present pancakes – perfect peace.

Whoosh ~ the present moment was gone. Oddly I was back many years ago remembering days at my parents' house.

I'm the oldest of siblings still at home – and the only one allowed to stay up late enough to watch Dad prepare for his graveyard shift at his full-time job; which (barely) afforded him to continue his calling – full-time pastor of a small church.

After working his eight hour job; he'd catch a short nap, then spend the mornings with my younger siblings. I was at school by then, but it was fine – as I looked forward to evenings with Dad.

I'd sit near the sink and watch him shave; talk about my day while he applied a dab o' Brylcreem to his carefully positioned "comb-over do", and listen attentively to his fatherly wisdom while he completed his final act of grooming - splashing the Old Spice aftershave onto his freshly shaven face – yikes. {My legs get goose-bumps at the very thought of such an act.}

I twirled at those special moments – spending one-on-one time with Daddy. In those precious moments I was not just "number 4-of-7" I was his one and only Baby Girl (don't tell my sisters). It was as if all other six siblings were distant memories.

Dad's words have always been my comfort, whether spoken or written ~ his cards are meticulously chosen and always signed with personal thoughts. In his words - his voice - I find peace and security; feel assured of life and hope; and know the strength and wisdom he represents.

~

Remembering even farther back… when we lived overseas,Daddy would tuck me in last at bedtime (well, I was number 4-of-4 then and THE Baby Girl). After reading (sometimes instead of) the books he would tell stories – describing his day in the form of a story book (seems we were sans Dr. Seuss over there). Gradually he would switch gears and the story became about how life compares to the life of Joseph or King David in the Old Testament or Nicodemus and how Saul became Paul in the New Testament. Sometimes it was whatever he had studied from the Bible for the next day's classes to teach at the West African Bible College.

~

What exactly created this emotional flashback anyway?

Hmmm.

Earlier tonight I was having a conversation with Dad. He was describing his day at the hospital. He told me in detail "all" that happened throughout the day: he took 2 walks with the nurse; visited with his older sister; Mom brought my niece - Baby Girl to visit and she wanted to take home the BIG bear my boys and I brought for Papa. Every visitor commented on Jeffrey's colorful drawing which Grandma taped to the front of the shelf.

Dad's story was building to its climax as he proudly exclaimed he had his first solids. =)

~

As he described his first meal selection for dinner, it all came rushing back...

Pancakes and scrambled eggs for dinner ~ Dad's favorite meal!

We often would have breakfast foods at dinnertime to celebrate Dad being with family for dinner before he had to leave for work at night – most of the time to give Mom a break, he would prepare that meal.

~

Funny, I never made a connection that breakfast at dinner time with Dad was such a comfort. So without the calories of comfort food – the thought of my Dad eating his favorite meal sans tube, false teeth and all, I am twirling like I did as a little girl.

Settling in for bed I remember the sweet, strong sound of Dad's voice telling his day-in-a-life story; my mind, heart, and body at rest for the night.

HonuGirl

Now that's the real thing...

She can breathe again.

Hospitals, illness, anxiety and stress seem inseparable.

I'm child #4, daughter #2 and #1 BabyGirl -- it has been four days since I'd heard my Dad's voice; well, other than a groan or painful "uh-huh" in response to a comfort question.

I called my Mum tonight checking on his status. She happened to be at his side in the hospital room visiting with two of their dearest friends.

We talked for a short while about his comfort, ability to communicate and his medical situation. Which was a relief, as the surgeon shared today that she would like to try a different option rather than immediately offer her remarkable skills with a scalpel to his bowel.

Yeah, it didn't sound any better as an unwritten thought.

~

Dad was sleeping when I called so I didn't want Mum to wake him; I asked her to tell him how many people were praying for him and which family members had emailed me to share their love and good wishes.

As she finished another story, I asked her to tell her friends "hello" from me; she did so, and I heard each of them respond with a "hello JoJo" in the background.

... and as if he could feel my anxiety my Dad made a noise that sound like "haah" which Mum interpreted as "hi".

I was grateful and at peace hearing even that much from him; but as I was saying "tell him I love him and I'll see him soon" -- the phone had already shuffled to his mouth and I heard him clearly say "HI! and THAT's the real thing!" in an almost normal voice.

It was the most he'd said to me while I sat in his room on Sunday; to me it was like a week's worth of discussions -- whew!!

Despite the fact that I can't breathe from a darn cold caught as soon as I left the hospital -- I am breathing freely -- as Daddy's little girl feels a whole lot better!!

That's the REAL thing!!!

HonuGirl

I simply cannot live without...

 my Dusty Puddles!!!

I giggled and smiled today as I swerved just enough for my tire to splash water over my hood from the puddle in the road.  Just as my eyes followed the water rolling off the right side of the hood, I noticed the speed limit sign and nearly laughed out loud!

These may seem random, unusual and not the common trigger for a jovial burst of smiles and laughter (odd even for an inside joke); to me these are sweet reminders of life in the form of memories.

Once I heard a radio announcer ask a caller “what is it you cannot live without for even one day?"     I think the caller answered some favorite brand of flavored coffee; he set out to prove she would survive.  Hmmm, my mind didn’t go THERE!!!  

That query stayed with me throughout the day; in quiet moments I gave myself a couple seconds to ponder, then answer… it appears there are a lot of things I can live without than not.   Many are materials things, some are tasks:  say I could live without garbage or bill paying or a few other things like that… yeah!   (Ya see, I was trying not too be deep and start listing people.)

 

As the puddle spluuushed and the sign read 25MPH the answer occurred to me -- I know what I couldn’t live without … MEMORIES!!!   Special moments that made me smile, giggle, or laugh.  Even those which made me weep, are to me precious gifts as I journey through life.

Which leads back to my love for Dusty n Puddles:  Da boyz (nicknames from ATVing with their Dad) read on...   you'll get it:

Jason stays ON the trails (except under duress and must travel off trail or be lost).  

Jeffrey stays OFF the trail (except under duress and must be on the trail or be lost).  

Ask Jason about the future – he says he would like to be a pastor or fly jet planes or be an architect (recently he decided he could do them all – indeed, why not?). 

Ask Jeffrey what he might like to be when he grows up – his first answer is always “I want to be ME” – then he  says “a monster truck driver!!”  

Therefore, while Jason remains relatively safe within the rules on the dry or ‘dusty’ trail;  Jeffrey finds every opportunity to skip outside the marked path and get muddy in the ‘puddles’.   =) 

So it is in life; when we travel in the car together Jason asks “Mom, are you sure you’re going the speed limit?”  Within five minutes, Jeffrey might say “Mom, run through that puddle over there” (on the opposite side of the road).  

May special memories bring a smile to your face … as you (attempt to) drive the speed limit and/or swish through the puddles of life!!!

Happy Day my friends!!

HonuGirl

Purging and Replacing…

I've reluctantly accepted the fact that we are in the year 2009. 

 

Acceptance of this fact, however, leads me to accomplish the year-end task of purging my 2008 filing system (don't bother being impressed; it's brown, ugly and expandable); notice – I did not say I was organizing – that is a task for those not inflicted with "distractination".

 

Ultimately, my purging is an act of preparation for the inevitable deadline in April (but who's counting… yet?). Right; I'm done talking about that – it makes me squeamish.

 

Along with the physical there is the mental and emotional purging. As part of the purging of a passing year, I take time to purge my thoughts, my heart and emotions of things that may have become buried and now is a severe disorganized pile of anger, resentment or other such unhealthy clutter.

 

I think I am allowed to be happy about the news that my insides are not as cluttered as my desk or as disorganized as my house. I have a successful internal system for purging:

 

"Let go and let God."

Casting all your care upon him; for he cares for you.                         1 Peter 5:7

 

 

What a blessing it is to be heard. I love my friends (you are definitely included). Since friends are tangible beings, they are easier to accept as human but I believe they are God's angels who walk with us here. Truth is, God works through and has wisely placed "incredible" friends in my life.

It is with great joy and much gratitude that I say 2008 was a fabulous year of listening, sharing, knowing, loving, caring and giving my time, my life, my boys and my heart.

 

As I am purging the clutter I am fondly replacing the empty space with blessed memories, moments, words, and imprinting my heart with the expressions of my dearly loved friends!

 

May we spend more time with "angels"  in 2009!!

HonuGirl

CAUTION: random explosions ahead…

Confession:  I recently had a breakdown in my PMA (positive mental attitude). 

To be honest, it was a full-blown (pun intended) Hollywood-worthy, non-flammable explosion.  

You know what I mean right?  I’m sure you’ve noticed when several items (unlikely to be hazardous) randomly explode following the expected fueled pyrotechnics… it makes little to no sense that the non-flammables would immediately blow up (multiple times).   Yeah, right.

Anywho.  I just experienced this senseless, irritating to watch, certainly worse to participate in chain of events.

 

I allowed a week of “life’s inevitable changes” bring my attitude down low enough that the spark from hitting the bottom of the barrel lit a fuse that detonated (normally non-flammable) circumstances regarding icy stormy weather, Christmas shopping and time without kids and friends M.I.A. -- eww!   All I can say is that it was as worthy of attention as a predictable, pyrotechnic boring, over-priced B-movie.

 

Such erratic emotional behavior is unusual for my character, so (after sleeping most the morning away) I took it upon myself to investigate the script to determine where exactly I misinterpreted my role.  

 

I’ll save you the boring specifics and just skip to the trailer highlights…

 

It’s the first day of winter; therefore, all hopes of any warmth from that glowing thing in the sky is truly devoid of sense.  The weather is frightful and shopping is too – also not finished.  Kids are not here and seeing friends seems impossible due to weather – loneliness ensues. 

  

New translations of script:

            Take a hot shower; turn on all the lights inside the apartment – make a hot latte to warm up. 

Call friends who are also stuck at home – cheer them up and discuss what presents they have left to buy; determine what presents already purchased are ready for wrapping.  Laugh about buying same theme of gifts for nephews.

Agree to keep kids for a few hours while their Dad & GF go out to Christmas party – choose not to panic when kids don’t want to bake cookies here, but would rather wait and bake with Dad’s GF.  Rationalize that it’s because they want something new to do with that person – certainly isn’t about not wanting to bake at home with me.   (uhh, yeah – that’s the best I got on that one.)

Find a neighbor in apartment complex who (like me) is stuck at home.  Invite her with son over to bake cookies; turn on Christmas music… laugh about being mutual distractinators while losing track of ingredients and bake really flat, tasty snickerdoodles.

Find an old headset to use while talking with a Friend – slight snarky jabs enough to draw a smile, but not enough for blood.   Find website that says my office may be closed tomorrow.

Continue to wrap presents and realize that I spent the whole day without eating … do cookies count.  Ooops!

It also helps to receive a note from King G who is determined to share all the PMA he can muster to lift the spirits of this character who struggled with life’s scripted changes.   Thanks King, I'm feeling better already!

 

When life’s script is hazardous… loving friends detonate expressions of love and kindness to create random explosions of joy and gratitude.   Ka-boom!!!   Sh-bang!!!   “Pushaw!!”

Lights, camera, action... !!  

HonuGirl

Behold, I bring you good tidings of great  joy!

Honu perspective...

Today was my first 8-hour day of full-time work.

Well, except that one day I worked after maternity leave 11 years ago...  and 15 years of full-time before that.  

By the way… I was required to work that one day following my maternity leave in order to give my resignation in person to my Manager; he wouldn’t accept it otherwise. Personally, I think he just wanted to see me smile when I said “Goodbye!” But back to the point.

Which was… ? Uhh… saying goodbye ... not really, but we’ll go with that since I’ve had to do that recently. Friday was extremely challenging. The morning brought much sadness after boot camp. Then my blog loss (which proved to be far more painful than frustrating as I previously blogged.) It ripped the heart right outta me. Honestly, I knew it was the only hour available to blog for the whole weekend (saving time for my boys) – shockingly it coincided with having something clever, creative and caring to say. So when it rudely disappeared (without saying goodbye), the fullness of words from my deep thoughts and aching expressive heart were suddenly… negative LOST! 

These are my honu in negative.

 

Not like my perspective… tssk!

{ Hey, it’s still (barely) Not Me Monday, right? }

In fact, it wasn’t me. Truth is... my boys (one of them anyway) took this photo. 

They both like surprising me with special photos on the camera.  This time I downloaded the camera card ~ voilà I found my beautifully honu expressed in negative view.

Hummph.  Ohh how I resembled my sweet honu. Downright grumpy. Sadly irritated. Uhh extremely agitated.

I'm better now though.  I think.   That reminds me, I was talking about my first day.   

As much as today was full of firsts: · first day of the work week

· first day of my new job

· first snow of the season (well, that began Sunday)

· first snow days - no school

· first day of boyz at Mapleleaf daycare (but their dad took ‘em instead, yeah.) Friday was the day of… lasts: · last day of boot camp · last day of work at old job · last day of being home when my boys get off the school bus · last day of the last week of workouts with King And on that day of “lasts” two very dear friends left town for the entire weekend . . . leaving me alone to weather the chill of this horrible storm (literally, there was a snow storm).

I don't like cold weather.

I don't like snow.

I don't like to feel cold.

This weekend started cold, became colder, and was the coldest when closing the chapter on many good things.

I like my new job. 

I miss King G and our workouts.

I like the people at work.

I miss my friend (a lot).

I like that my boys had fun in the snow.

I miss watching them (through the window... staying warm) 

I like that there's a kitchen at work; a hot water spigot.

I miss Starbucks around the corner [skip that, they are on every corner]

 I wish it was summer -- I miss the 80-90 degree weather!

   A whole new perspective.

HonuGirl

Insightful similie and hairless armpits...

Ever feel ill-equipped to answer kid questions?

Tonight was another heart-to-heart with my 11-year-old.  

He starts out unable to sleep.  Most kids want water or a snack... mine, just time and comforting conversation.

I willingly leave my blog viewing at the computer, my open e-mail, and on-going chat window to give my full attention to the boy who plops down to sit on my lap and says . . . "It's my heart, Mom.   It just doesn't feel right tonight." 

So the gentle inquiries begin only to discover his joy is gone.  It's not as big as it usually is... heavy, not light.  

He wants to relax on my bed and listen to the iPod (we each get an ear piece); we sing a couple tunes together.  Then he politely asks if I mind that he turn it off.

Soon followed the stories of sadness.  His friend's dog died.  Old dog; but still it's terribly sad.  She was a good dog; I'm informed that he believes she's in heaven. Of course!

He missed seeing his Dad's GF's dogs at Thanksgiving; the dogs were elsewhere on a visit (i dunno why?).

Then, he had a few other private questions about life, love and getting married; curiosity of the heart... so romantic.

After he settled from being so inquisitive, I shared how special it was to watch him growing up with such a tender heart.  I hoped his heart remained that way for a long time.

He says "it's true.  My heart is tender and delicate like an egg being held with scissors...  you must be careful or it will roll off and tumble down to crash and explode into a big mushy mess.

Wow!  

Shortly after he says... "Can you really tell, that I am growing up, I mean, uh... would you check and see if I have armpit hair?"    

Ummm, sure.  Sorry - nuthin buddy.  "Aww."

HonuGirl

So much to say...

Jason and I started something new a while back… 

We share a journal - having conversations on paper as we trade it back and forth.  

 

They almost always end with “I love You” and his final request… “Please answer all my questions in your next entry.”

 

Isn’t that a heavy request!  

 

Luckily his questions are fairly easy …

  “where did you get this pen?  I like it.” 

“can I write in on this page?”

“I wonder why it’s called it a ‘dragon’ fly?”  (next to his lovely drawing of one)

“What would it be like to own a daycare?  Would it be hard? Or would it be easy as making pancakes?”

 

“Did I tell you what I want for my birthday?  … {followed by a list of his top requests}

 

Several pages back I was re-reading his entry with interest as suddenly I was forced to question… did my son really write this?

 

As my eyes followed his scratchy writing left to right and down the page…

they stopped at the sentence before last one, it’s on the left side… 

my heart gave pause as I re-examined the statement…

It was haphazardly tucked between sweet comments about the Wall-E movie and a description of a school poster he saw while waiting for bike safety –  this wonderful gift:

 

            “I’m also glad that you understand me, Mom.”

 

He turns 11 on Thanksgiving – one of many things for which I’m grateful! 

HonuGirl