Attitude of Gratitude 


Your behavior tells a story to the world around you. What story are you telling? 

This idea, that your attitude/behavior sends a more powerful message about who you are, what you believe and how you feel than your words ever will, is something I prize in my life. And like most humans I fail miserably at displaying my true inner thoughts and feelings through my actions. 

Though I feel intense love for my little family, it’s far too easy to let my frustrations with a momentary, temporary problem manifest rather than the love that I feel more powerfully. Therefore, in an effort to remind myself and my family to display an attitude of love and thankfulness, I have changed my chalkboard to the above photo. Maybe  if I have to read that everyday for a while, I’ll get it. 

My mother sent me lilies

Surprise lilies are these beautiful lilies with large pink petals and long stems.  They show up in the summer suddenly, blooming overnight.  They were one of my mother’s favorite flowers.  She always wanted to have them in her yard and, in fact, she and I talked about trying to find some bulbs and planting them.  But because of her cancer, we never got around to it.

This morning I looked outside and discovered surprise lilies growing in my backyard very near to the place I planted a small memorial flower bed for Mom.

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All I wanted was to be able to pick up the phone and call her to tell her that I had surprise lilies growing in my yard.  I can hear her reaction in my mind right now.  But I couldn’t call her so I put my head into my husband’s chest and just sobbed.

I called my sister and told her about the flowers.  She said God gave Mom permission to plant some lilies in my yard.  I have to laugh thinking about Mom in heaven pestering God because she just wants to garden some more.

So Mom sent me lilies.  Thanks, Mom, they’re beautiful.

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P.S. That’s a pic from a few years ago, after Mom took my daughters around our old neighborhood and stole the surprise lilies from the neighbors’ yards to make a bouquet.  I told them it was wrong to steal from the neighbors but I laughed and took a pic anyway.

Saying the wrong thing and telling lies

Pride is sneaky
It’s not easy to see
Right away
You say
Only God can judge me
Held up high like a trophy
Like it’s magic, no one can touch me
Finding beauty in all your selfies
You live righteous, K, I’m not judging
Straight edge player marching to your own beat
Fell in love with the rhythm of your own need
Call them haterz if they don’t bow at your feet
But you’re just living like you were always made to be

Yeah, pride is sneaky
Drown so easy in our own deceit
Don’t come easy to humility
Don’t you know the earth goes to the meek
The future of the human race looks bleak
Cuz we let pride dictate the way we speak

Never thankful, never grateful
But always hashtag blessed
When’s the last time you bowed before Him
Laid your heart bare and confessed
Never sorry, not remorseful
Always hashtag amazing
But it’s not hard to be amazed
When it’s yourself you’re always praising

But who am I to judge
I’m selfish, lazy, mean and proud
Quick to anger
Quick to tear down
Slow to hear what’s clear and loud
I wish I was pure and gentle
Humble, patient, kind and wise
Instead I’m crazy, scarred and mental
Saying the wrong thing and telling lies

I know your pride won’t let you hear this
But that’s something I already knew
Cuz that’s the great thing about pride
It protects you from what’s true

I went away…

I haven’t posted a thing on here in a million years.

I tried. 

I tried so many times. 

But I just couldn’t. 

My mom was sick. She was in a nursing home, dying from colon cancer that had metastasized to her liver and lymph nodes. I wanted to write posts but whenever I tried to think of something to write, the only thing I could think of was my mom. And I didn’t want to write about mom. 

All I ever did was talk about mom. For months. Every conversation left me raw. So I just couldn’t talk about her on here too. 

She passed away in April of this year. And I’m still thinking about it all the time. Last night I even dreamt that she was still alive. I told her that everyone thought she was dead, that we’d had a funeral for her. She just smiled at me and shrugged her shoulders. 

My mom and I had a complicated relationship. Saying that she drove me crazy is an incredible understatement. But that hasn’t stopped me from missing her. And I do. 

But somehow, tonight, as I’m writing this, I feel ok. I don’t know when or if I’ll ever post again but I feel ok about posting this. 

I miss my mom. I really do. But I’m gonna be ok.