A mom, a treehouse and a couple mountains – an El Salvadoran adventure

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IMG_6492.JPGOn Monday, I walked up the stairs to a treehouse

Near a volcano

In El Salvador

No big deal…

Just a regular ho-hum day for a middle aged American wife and mom who only 48 hours ago welcomed a new daughter-in-love to the family.

I jest. It was this a significant moment. Why, you ask?

1. I’m very afraid of heights.

2. I’m not really a very adventurous person anymore.

3. I am accident prone.

4. The treehouse towered high above the mountains in the El Boqueron National Park

5. And it swayed…

Surveying the land – mountains, volcanoes, crests of the ocean peeking near the sky’s edge – such majesty and glory,

I climbed the steps and held on mightily to the thin railing. My eyes shunned all notice of the open risers. The recent earthquake we had experienced a few days ago from neighboring Guatemala was shoved aside. Up, up, up the stairs I climbed and then with trepidation, down, down, down the same.

I felt the Lord’s open hand and His voice saying, “I’m giving you this moment. Take it.” He gave me a gift. All I needed to do was accept. I said yes.

The park is just 25 minutes away from the Salvadoran capital and sits atop of the San Salvador volcano at an altitude of 5,905 feet which is about 1800 meters above sea level- (special thanks to fellow blogger Traveller Soul for the reference). The air was clear and cool, hibiscus and poinsettia blossomed at every view. The light fragrance of cypress reminded me of Christmas. How I wish I could have bottled the smell!IMG_6602.JPG

Ike then bespied a small swinging bridge near the treehouse. “Mom, go on this with me!” he declared.

Incredulously, my feet advanced. Before I knew it, I crossed the bridge. I’m not sure who was more surprised my orange hair, freckle face OS or I. Though a rather clumsy journey, by golly, I did it.

And now as I sit back in suburban North Carolina and attempt to write on my blog again,

Similarly I feel as if I’m overlooking a panorama of memories, experiences

Emotional mountains and volcanoes

The vista of pain and joy, loss and gain

Do I even dare to share and grant access to this life and try to write again? We shall see.

For the time being, I’m moving one step forward and reflecting on the chances I’m given to be blessed and

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So how about you? Any chance you can relate to my journey? The brave part? The blessed? Hope you’ll share!

What I told my young son the night before his wedding

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Cindy and Mark with brand new baby Aaron

 

Today I am sharing the message I spoke to my son at the rehearsal dinner. My intention for making it public is because it is testimony of God’s faithfulness. The Lord gave me confident and courage to speak from my heart after a period of great struggle. 

From the day my middle olive shoot was born, Aaron has done things early. His due date was September 7. This was perfect because my wedding ring was diamond and sapphire – April and September. It all was going to fall into place so nicely!

But then I felt cramping in my stomach and on August 30, just two days shy of September, Aaron Xavier entered our world.

And that’s the way it’s been. Aaron talked at an early age, went to kindergarten and high school as one of the youngest in his class. He turned 18 while at Moody Bible Institute, the only thing he didn’t do early was potty training but that’s all figured out now thank you very much. 🙂

All of this early stuff was preparation for his wedding day. Based on his life thus far, nothing should surprise me about my precious boy. He is getting married 10 years before the national average for males which according to the CDC is 29.

But those guys aren’t my Spurny.

Fave pic of aaron and momSince Aaron was a little boy, our family has instilled values, traditions and a belief in Jesus Christ. When I tucked Aaron in at night, I prayed for him. As I sat on his bed, I thanked the Lord for another day of being his mom. My heart is glad each day that I’ve had the honor and the privilege of being his mama. Of course I feel the same way about each of my boys.

One night in particular I remember specifically praying with Aaron about something very special. Not a good grade on a test or for a tooth to come loose. This night I prayed for Aaron’s wife.

We prayed for our kids’ wives throughout their time at home. I remember the Hubs doing it one day around the dinner table for Isaac. He was about six at the time and his little eyes peeked up like, “My what? My who???”

But getting back to Aaron, I remember like it was yesterday because in a way it feels like it was…

I prayed about this “mystery woman/his wife” and as I said this, my sweet little boy, he might have been around 11 years old; he squeezed me extra tight as I muttered those words next to his bed.

And on May 24, 2014, Aaron received her.

She is here. She is his. Our prayers have been answered.

Since Aaron was a little boy, we also did another thing in my family. Whenever we found ourselves doing a skill we thought would be useful in the future, we’d gather up the available boys and call it “husband training.” Whether it was fixing a toilet, hanging a nail, making salad dressing or chicken broth, ironing, mowing the lawn, boom, Nate, Aaron and/or Ike assisted in the efforts. The thought being one day you are going to do this. One day you’ll be a husband and you need to know. In some way, you need these skills to land yourself a good girl in the first place.

In the recent days, the Lord and I have had many conversations preparing me for Aaron’s wedding day. Because I serve a God of All Comfort and Compassion, there is nothing I haven’t burdened Him with that shocks or disappoints Him. God is very good like that. IMG_8475

And in these moments, I have come to Jesus and He has told me, “Why does this surprise you? You have been calling it husband training all these years? What were you expecting? You called it husband training for a reason. Aaron listened. Daughter, your son watched. He took it seriously. He is ready.

Now Aaron is becoming a husband. I become a mother-in-law hopefully to be considered a mother-in-love and I desperately love my son. I am proud of him and the man he is, the husband he will be and the dad I can already imagine.

10371636_10152976488103018_7618892888247892350_nEphesians 3:20-21 “Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.

 

 

Five minute Friday – hands

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photoI usually quantify how interesting my life is based on where my feet take me

But too seldom do I consider my hands

What they do, where they go, how they have traveled in some ways differently although my hands and feet are connected to, um, photo me – DUH!

Have you ever thought about your hands?

Their magnificent versatility and productivity? Their ability to create, love, maneuver?

Clap your hands about your hands! Raise the roof about your hands! Lift those bad boys up to the Lord in praise!

In the last several weeks, my hands have grasped balls of Kleenex as I spoke a tribute to my middle son the night before he got married.

They tearfully carried a bouquet of flowers as I walked down the aisle and found my seat as the mother-of-the-groom.

My hands cupped around my son’s handsome face as we had our mother/son dance. Gracious!10172643_10203755528669758_7964348490121130609_n

And since

My hands have prepared a meal for a cancer patient whose family is burdened and needed a respite.

They have turned pages in a book and my Bible.

They have pointed to paint colors as we redecorate a room to welcome our married kids into our home one day for visits.

My hands also have gone to the women’s prison and helped inmates.

Their shaking hands

The ladies often move the fabric harshly as if those hands haven’t seen much love.

sewing simple quilts and pillows – many can’t even thread a needle or make a knot at the end

And that’s when my hands sweep into assist

So today, on this Five minute Friday, I will appreciate the gift of hands, what they are able to give and 5-minute-friday-1receive. Give thanks to the Lord for the splendid design of hands!

I’m not the only one writing about this word. Check out the other folks writing about hands by clicking here!

 

A son sees his bride for the very first time –

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photo 1To see a groom behold his bride for the very first time

That moment when they first lay eyes on each other

It’s hard not to cry, isn’t it? Heck, I’m verklempt even watching Say Yes to the Dress and I’ve only personally known one bride that’s ever been on that show! Click here to watch the episode!

Yet to my surprise, when my middle olive shoot saw his beloved last Saturday morning in a church tucked away in verdant Pennsylvania

Tears escaped me as it happened in front of my eyes

Not that I didn’t find it precious and a bit surreal

But when I stood watching my son prepare to turn and step into the day and the role of husband

Times we had prayed for all these years – both just with him and as a family

It would have been wrong to cry because I just felt joyphoto 2

Uncle Alan directed the photo shoot which kept the mood light which helped, thank you, kind sir!

Now, however…

Even after making this simple video,

photo 3It’s like after Thanksgiving dinner

When everyone is gone and I put on my pj’s. I pile my plate high with food – turkey and gravy, sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, pumpkin pie, apple pie, whipped cream. That’s my moment when I truly savor the meal minus any other responsibilities.

Now I’m able to soak up all the deliciousness

The quietude allows me to absorb it all.

Less than 60 seconds

I watch over and over again, my heart full of gratitude…

How about you? A special wedding moment you observed or experienced? I’d love to hear your stories and share the bliss!

 

 

 

 

Five minute Friday – nothing

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photoNothing –

that endless pit of despair

consuming, feasting on my sadness like a tick on my soul

This was the place I dwelt for months

Nearly unable to do anything but weep

A friend encouraged me to attend a weekly prayer time for moms

I agreed since nothing else was working and crying was becoming a full-time job with no chance of promotion

Nothing –

That’s how I entered the room at the church

devoid of all hope, ashamed of my grief and dashed dreams

Nothing but Kleenex hid my tears

Unable to even wear mascara because all it did was smudge

And during that sacred time of lifting up other moms’ burdens to the Lord

Only for an hour, nothing fancy or fake

Simply a bunch of real moms who believed

They joined me praying and understanding

No judgement or condemnation

Just love and compassion

I learned I wasn’t alone

My situation and sorrow were different but gosh, we had a lot in common

Suddenly I was able to wear makeup, laugh, see hope and promise

Nothing but the prayers of others

And the inclining ear of God

Gave me the courage to praise the Lord on a beautiful Saturday when my son and his wife were married

I wore a smile as I walked down the aisle

My orange hair, freckle face olive shoot escorted me

And I wore mascara2014-05-24 09.31.47

A silk dress given to me by one of those praying ladies

Nothing stole my joy that morning. Everything about this journey is testimony to my Savior God who rescues and redeems.

photoFor you – We probably haven’t met but I pray that you are encouraged today hearing some of my story. Your cir-  5-minute-friday-1cumstances are different than mine but the Lord cares about you as much as He does me!

Romans 8:37-39 No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Five minute Friday – a group of people who are given a word and then write about it for five (or so) minutes. Check out the other thought-provoking posts here.

 

 

 

I slow-danced with another man and I liked it

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photoMy first experience slow-dancing was traumatic.

Picture a teenage girl going to a Mormon youth dance. She misses her mom who’s in the hospital. It’s a weekend night. Her friend’s name is Michelle.

Platform shoes, lip gloss, a tender heart, polyester

Abba music playing in the background

This Catholic girl alight with anticipation

Who will pick me? Am I pretty? Has that pimple disappeared? More importantly, will there be enough disco music???

Then the creepiest, dweebiest guy asks me to dance. How can I say no? He isn’t cute but he’s the only one to approach.

Pressing me close to him, he slowly removes his glasses and whispers…

“I don’t need these to see you, now do I?”

Every shameful feeling a teenage girl can experience joined me on the dance floor that night

Clumsy feet step all over his until I can’t take it anymore.

I run into the girl’s bathroom, lock the door.

And upon my return home, immediately shower to remove that guy from my person.

Yeah, I’d say that qualifies as a traumatic slow-dancing event, wouldn’t you?

Since then, my slow-dancing skills haven’t improved.

Foot surgeries, knee problems, my list of excuses will impress.

It’s a standing joke with the Hubs.  I can’t slow-dance, I can’t follow his lead. It’s so silly when I even try.

But more than three decades later, there’s another guy who wants to dance with me.

My middle olive shoot – Aaron

On his wedding day no less…

Did he not remember the legendary tale? I mean, I only talk about it a couple of times a year. I plead with Aaron to not humiliate me by forcing me to slow-dance in front of people. Can’t we just leave it alone?

I send him videos of moms choreographing wedding dances with their sons. Don’t they look amazing? Doesn’t that look like fun? I think we should do that, don’t you? Heck, I even work with an up and coming dj on a dance mix.

But no.

The kid won’t budge.

He wants to dance with his mama.

Tears flow after the father/daughter dance. I know I’m next.

Aaron, I can’t do this.”

“I’m crying. I’ll look stupid. People will laugh. I will uglyphoto cry.”

“No, Mama, you can do this.”

He takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor.photo

Suddenly I don’t care. I almost feel pretty. I know I feel proud.

I’m in my son’s arms.

My charming, safe and oh so handsome child. He’s a married man. Sweet melodies serenade my heart-strings.

We step all over each other’s feet.

I twirl him to lighten the mood.

He spins me around. We look ridiculous. At one point, we miss intersecting after a twirl.

It’s a hot mess.

But I cry and look deep into his eyes. I caress his soft cheeks just like I did when he was a baby.

10172643_10203755528669758_7964348490121130609_n“Oh Aaron, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Mama.”

And then it’s over.

The music stops.

I leave the dance floor glad. Really super duper glad.

10345846_10152968220578018_3115487111255556271_nI nearly passed up this imperfect moment.

I look at the pictures afterward and reflect.

I almost got in the way. Pride and self-consciousness, as clumsy as my feet trying to move at a gentle speed, nearly ruined the moment.

But the sun had streamed on the spot where we danced. We were unaware at the time. I had no idea. Beholding the images now, God’s hand held us together. 

Quite simply, despite our lack of skill, we were GRACE-ful. Not our feet but our hearts.

I feel resplendent. I feel healed. I’ve been dancing on air ever since.

Here’s my message to you moms – don’t pass up moments due to insecurity. Those times don’t come around every day.

And to you sons – encourage your sweet mothers. Take us by the hand. We get scared too. Tell us you love us and guide us to the adventure. You will never regret it.

Honoring in spite of Alzheimer’s

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photo 6It’s been nearly a year since my father-in-law abruptly left.

He did not die but disease and deception pulled him away.

Poof, he was gone.

No goodbye, no thank you, no I love you.

Ouch.

The wounds are healing. We have moved forward. We welcomed a Brazilian exchange student into our home for the school year. We now have a delightful dog. Two of our olive shoots proposed. The Hubs will enjoy a new knee in less than a month! We know how to keep things lively!

2014-05-23 17.01.07But as our ministry-minded middle announced his plans to marry, I envisioned the rehearsal dinner. I considered the food, the venue, flowers, decorations, it is one of my favorite things to do. Yet my spirit was unsettled about one major issue. How do we reconcile the fact that Aaron will probably never hear from his grandpa again? Although I will never understand the circumstances surrounding his strange departure or the vast amounts of pain this created, the Lord is sovereign. That’s the only part that gives me peace.

I do know that my FIL loved Aaron. He cared deeply about his grandkids, he was understandably proud of the men and women they had become.

2014-05-23 16.51.03That is why I included pictures of my husband’s parents’ wedding in the decorations. Unless you have been in a similar situation, you may not appreciate the significance. I also had a photo of my parent’s wedding even though my mom has remarried and my dad’s been gone for over 25 years. But positioning that little framed picture of my in-law’s on the table was like moving a boulder. I didn’t want to cause my husband any more anguish. In addition to not having my FIL with us, our Soldier would be missing the festivities due to his deployment to Qatar. The Hubs was ok with seeing the photo again, bless his incredible heart.

2014-05-23 16.55.26The placement of that wedding picture announced that the poison cocktail of Alzheimer’s, vascular dementia and deception would NEVER erase the good memories we cling to each day.

Joy and celebration conquered sadness and grief. We chose to honor and cherish.

On the other side of this life because of our faith in Jesus, we will see him again.