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June 10 2019

45 and Fabulous

Hello my friend! Thanks for dropping in to spend a few minutes together. Do you have a hot cup of something and a few minutes to yourself to sit and chat? Great! Let’s get started! I have spent the week getting adjusted to being 45! It is similar to the beginning of the New Year when you find yourself writing last year’s date on everything. The first week at a new age is interesting as every now and then it just hits you that you are a year older and hopefully wiser. It is like a fresh AHA moment every few hours. As a result of all these AHA’s moments that I’ve experienced this week, I’ve come to the conclusion that I want to be 45 and fabulous.

Age is Just a Number

I am of the persuasion that believes/professes that age is just a number. However, there are certain numbers that make you stop and think about that a little more than others. 45 is one of them. Maybe because I’m now smack dab in the middle of a decade; perhaps because it has already been a year of much change -or even because I’m past the denial of being over 40. Whatever the exact reason is, 45 is a number (age) that has left me a bit more reflective.

Reflection

I like to sit and think about things; life, where I’m at, where I’m going, what that path looks like. Thinking generally happens with a fresh sheet of paper and a sharpened pencil in my hands. A cup of tea in a nice mug is also helpful for this process. I’m never sure what will come out; poetry, short stories, mind maps or visions, but always, when I look back at it, it touches me deeply. How do you do your reflecting? Do you give yourself the gift of some quiet time spent thinking? Would love to hear when, where and how you like to think about things. Drop a comment below.

Musings on 45

It was a quiet afternoon last week when I had some time to set myself aside with my tea and some paper. My pencil was newly sharpened and the kitty cat curled up beside me. I wrote for a long time and then closed the cover of my notebook and set it aside. I wasn’t quite ready to sit and read it yet. Almost a week later, on a beautiful sunny morning, I settled myself in a chair on the deck. I plopped my big floppy hat on and grabbed a cup of hot tea. I was excited as I opened up my notebook and began to read. I wasn’t disappointed. My musings on 45 from a week earlier resonated deep in my spirit and may even have brought a few tears to my eyes.

Yellow Flower

Yellow Flower

Sheets of gray rain

A yellow flower blooms in the midst

A little hand reaches out and picks the flower

That little hand travels in the rain – with a bright red umbrella – holding carefully the yellow flower

That hand touches the shoulder of the one

hunched over in despair

And hands over the flower

The one sits up and looks around in the gray rain

and then looks at the bright yellow flower

The one goes out in to the gray rain

and furrows a piece of ground

and plants the yellow flower

and moves on

As that one travels she tells others, hunched over, where to find this

flower garden

Others, hunched over, hear of the hope of colour

They rise up and travel

Committed to see

The flower grows tall – little flowers

growing around it

The hands reach out and pick the little yellow flowers

They travel in the rain with a bright red umbrella – holding

carefully the yellow flower

What I Know

45 is knowing where the yellow flower is, knowing you have both the hands to give it and the hands to receive it. Knowing that there is colour in the grayness and that sometimes we have to get up and travel to find it.

There are those who look like thy have it all together, but who see themselves hunched over and in despair. The former is an elaborate facade – the later their reality.

The one with the yellow flower recognizes the hunched over in the “all together” and acknowledges it while inviting them to life.

I recognize that even after 45 years, there is still so much more to give; maybe even more to give. So many, holding a bouquet of flowers, need someone to acknowledge the barrenness within and hold out one yellow flower to offer life to the despair on the inside.

We are both the one holding out the flower and receiving the flower. We are both the one moving in the colour and living in the grayness. There is a hunched over one in each of us at some point in our lives. I hope that all of us, at some point in our lives, have had the glorious experience of travelling in the rain with a bright red umbrella – holding carefully the yellow flower.

45 and Fabulous

So what of being 45 and fabulous? I believe it is fabulous to see where I am and where I’m going. To have the time to set aside and reflect on this new age that is just a number. Fabulous comes when something is extraordinary or amazing. I’ve decided that 45 can be fabulous if I commit to finding the yellow flower, travelling through the gray rain with a red umbrella, holding carefully each yellow flower I find and touching the shoulder of the one hunched over in despair.

What can you commit to today that will create a fabulous year for you? Would love to hear from you – drop a comment below!

Farewell until Next Time

Well, it’s time to say “farewell until next time”. I’m so glad to have been able to spend this time together. See you again next week, same time, same place!

If you are interested in more Devotional reading, head over to my Facebook Page where you will find a Weekly Devotion early every Monday morning. Click here to go directly to the Weekly Devotions with Laurie.

Until next time,

From my heart to yours!

Laurie

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June 3 2019

Hope Begins in the Darkest of Places

Hope Begins In The Darkest of Places

Good Morning all my Shining Ones! What adventures were you on this week? What challenges did you face? How did you face them? This week I thought we would dive a bit deeper. I would love to share with you a bit about my journey with “Hope Begins in the Darkest of Places.” Using my journal writings I will share the hope I found during one of the darkest times in my life. A spark of hope that began and endured despite the feelings I felt and the circumstances I saw.

A Lot Can Happen In 6 Months and 5 Days

On October 14^th, 2001, I entered the hospital for treatment of severe depression and anxiety. I emerged, into the world again, 5 months and 6 days later. It was “a year from hell. I crashed, completely withdrew from life, hit rock bottom, died a thousand deaths, began to resurface, learned to trust, found myself (in bits and pieces) and began to fight to learn who I was.”

It was a challenging time yet a time of great growth; a time of great despair but also a time development of a new and enduring hope that would help to propel me forward in the years to come.

Hope Bubbles Up In The Midst

“Hope Begins in the Darkest of Places.” I wrote those words without knowing what they would mean – they were an unconscious encouragement to me, offered up from somewhere deep within.”

It was, as I sat on my hospital bed and looked at the wall ahead of me, paper and pencil in hand, trying to capture some of the wayward thoughts to help make sense of the chaos, that these words came to me. It wasn’t a voice. It wasn’t a feeling. It is hard to explain the experience. The words just bubbled up inside of me and I immediately started writing. I must admit, when I looked closely at what I had written, I was disappointed. Hope, what hope? It was like another empty promise in the midst of the darkness; yet another contradiction in my life.

“At that moment when I knew I couldn’t fall any further, I could only envision despair. However, the darkest, coldest, bleakest day of winter is the one that inspires the wistful longing for the renewal of spring. I laid at the bottom of the pit, mired in hopelessness and helplessness, a soul scarred with anger, abandonment, distrust and hatred. My body and soul on fire, the world crushing my chest, each breath a struggle to survive. My mind was a constant torment to itself; critical and hateful, a constant barrage of darkness and evil.”

A Gift of Words

When one is desperate, at the bottom of the pit and finding it hard to get even a glimpse of the sky, one takes notice of those things that bubble up from within. I went to work, painted a large piece of paper and wrote these words in large red letters. I hung it on my wall. There it stayed for the duration of my time there. It generated much discussion. Many stopped and asked what it meant. Some questioned whether I believed it or not. Some thought it foolish. But there it stayed. Why? I believe these words were a gift to me from the Lord. Heaven knows I couldn’t have come up with them myself in my current state!

“From the bottom of that pit I had cried out to the Lord and He heard my voice. He lifted my head when I could no longer move, placed this, “Hope Begins in the Darkest of Places” in my heart, and in doing so, generated a spark of hope. There was no light, no warmth, no voice, but in that moment I knew hope.”

In that moment, despite how I felt, despite what my circumstances looked like, despite the hopelessness and helplessness I found myself in, these words that were given me, generated hope.

There is much I could say about the rest of my stay, but really there is no need for details. Suffice to say, the gift of these words was a catalyst, a reminder and a challenge all in one, to stay the path, dig in deep and do the work I needed to do.

Words Matter

As was my practice, I spent much time in my Bible, seeking comfort, direction and encouragement. These words reminded me of the importance of words in my life and reminded me to stick to what I knew.

Were the days easy? No! Was the work difficult? Yes! Did I often want to quit! For sure!

But the words I saw on my wall everyday reminded me that all the words I needed to read were available to me whenever I needed them. My Bible became my close companion and within it I found words of life that taught me about my value and worth, the purpose and plan for my life and the love of a Heavenly Father.

“I cried out for release from my torment and my voice was heard. I cried out for guidance and a hand reached to me. Form the darkest place I found hope. From the darkest place hope grew and sustained my spirit. From the darkest place I uncovered parts of me hidden for a lifetime. From the darkest place I learned to reach out, to trust, and to believe. From the darkest place I regained my faith. From the darkest place I became aware, grew more mindful. From the darkest place I learned to fight the resistance within.”

I read, I cried out, I worked, I reached out, I learned about myself and my God, I grew. In time the hope grew stronger, not only impacting me but those around me.

What You Need To Know

Why do I share this with you? I want you to know that:

1) you are not alone in your pit

2) you are not the only one who is struggling or has struggled

3) there is hope

4) if you are not ready to hope on your own, I will begin to hope for you

5) hope, acknowledged, will, in time, grow and strengthen and become believable and then undeniable

6) there are no quick fixes –life requires effort and commitment and work

7) no matter where you find yourself today, you can do this

What I Know!

Hope Begins in the Darkest of Places! I believe it with all my heart. I watched it at work. I watched in amazement and disbelief in my own life, and yet it worked anyway. 2001 feels like a lifetime ago in terms of where I’ve come since them. If I could change it all around, I wouldn’t change it. That time, although dark and full of despair, was a time of great growth. It taught me the importance of the Word in my life. It drew me closer to my Jesus and took my faith walk up several levels. It created within me a stamina and courage that I didn’t know I could ever have. Most of all, it took me on a journey that now allows me to speak hope into your life.

Hope Begins in the Darkest of Places

Hope Begins in the Darkest of Places still sits amongst my papers as I couldn’t bear to toss it.

The Step For Today

Where are you today? What hope do you need generated in your life? Today, I am believing for you. I have created a number of printables and social media posts for you to use. Click here to download. Print them off, hang them on your walls, physical and social media, and look at them often. Create your own if that works better for you. Just take that first step.

I’ve also done up a printable of a portion Psalm 40 for you – a Psalm that I read and reread in that season – a Psalm of truth and reality and great hope. I hope you will be encouraged by it.

Thanksgiving

I went home from those 5 months and 6 days in hospital a very different and much stronger individual; prepared to continue to do the work I needed to do. A year later on Thanksgiving Day I wrote this:

“There is a season for all things and I give thanks for my season of darkness and the resulting renewal I have been granted. I stand in the meadow of my soul, hand thrown up to heaven, and offer my heart and soul in thanks. My soul cries out to the Creator a song of praise for life and living, for despair and growth, for past and present, for enemies and friends, for the me I was, the me I am and the me I am to become.”

This is true 17 years later as I continue to sing out a song of praise! In time, I believe, it will be true for you as well!

Until Next Time

If you are interested in more Devotional reading, head over to my Facebook Page where you will find a Weekly Devotion early every Monday morning. Click the button below to go directly to the Weekly Devotions.

Until next time,

From my heart to yours!

laurie

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May 27 2019

Gather Together

Hello my friends! How has your week gone? The copious amounts of rain have been VERY good for the flowers and the grass, but it is good to finally see some sun! This week we took our first trip in our “new to us” camper. Off to beautiful Cape Breton to spend some time with family. While there we gathered together to love and support one another as we laid our dearest Papa to rest. He was a great man in the eyes of many and we were delighted as so many gathered at the graveside to pay their respects, to say their farewells and to support one another; something our family does incredibly well. I was privileged, at the graveside, to share about the life of this precious man and wanted to take this opportunity to tell you a bit about my Papa; a man that greatly shaped my life.

Here we find ourselves, gathered together again, a tight knit group of family and friends. Those going by and seeing our gathering perceive only our grief; what they miss with their brief glance is our deep love for one another– grieving should never happen in isolation and in this family it never does.

5 Months

We gather today, 5 months, 5 long months after Jacob Daniel Shaw, let go his grasp on this world and opened his hands wide to take hold of eternity. He was known by many titles; husband, father, brother, uncle, papa, papa Jake, dear friend. In my mind we can sum him up in two phrases – the rock we all leaned on – and the glue that held it all together. For most of us, we can’t remember a time when he wasn’t a part of us and for those of us who can, we can’t imagine how we ever got along without him in the before. And now, for all of us, the question looms large, how will we move forward without him?

95 Years

How could one man, in almost 95 years have such an impact? How could one man be so very human and so very real and yet find himself elevated in the minds and hearts of so many?

Authentic

He was always himself, no matter the person or the circumstance, never fake, never put on. He said it like it was, even if it might not be one hundred percent politically correct or popular.

Wisdom

He didn’t have a lot of formal education but he had a lifetime of experiences that he took time to reflect on and grow from and that made him the smartest man I’ve ever known.

Hands that Held

He was a giant of a man with giant sized hands; those hands that did hard physical work for much of their life, were the same hands that also gently and firmly held each one of us at some point- through a handshake, a hand hold, a stroke on the cheek, a pat on the head.

Squeezed In

We were never too old to find a place on his lap or squeezed into the chair beside him and his arms were always open and ready for a hug.

Quiet Faith

He had a quiet and straightforward faith. Many times when I was struggling he simply asked, “Are you talking to the man upstairs?” He understood that although he knew much and had much to offer there were some things he had to pass over to God.

Family

He believed in the importance and necessity of family. He believed in the power of stories. But most of all he believed in us, each and every one of us, no matter where we were on our journey. When we couldn’t believe for ourselves, he believed for us.

Footsteps

So how do we journey on? Where do we go from here? We need to take that impact, the lessons he modeled, and make sure we are continuing to walk in his footsteps in our journey. They are big footsteps to follow in but I believe that as we follow in them and grow, our footsteps will in turn enlarge and we make a footpath for those coming behind us.

What We Believe

We need to believe in the inherent worth of people, the importance of sharing our stories, the necessity of family, the need to reflect on our life and continue to grow through our experiences, the need to be real, the joy of holding one another firmly but gently, believing for one another, holding each other close and squeezing in close together.

Until Eternity

In the time I spent with him the week before he left us, despite the fact that he was dealing with his own discomfort and mortality, he took the time to sit with me; to hold me firmly but gently with those giant sized hands, to remind me of the important things in life, to make sure I knew how much I was loved. And in the last moments before I left as I looked one last time into those beautiful eyes, those eyes looked into the very centre of my soul with a fierce intensity and enough love to last me until we meet again in eternity.

Our Promise Until Eternity

Today, we gather together, as a family; a family that may be scattered in the everyday by time and distance and priorities, but a family that knows how to pull together in an instant when it is most important. Today we gather to honour the rock that we have all leaned on and the glue that has held it all together. Today we gather to hold each other firmly but gently as our breath catches again at the void we feel in the realness that he is not with us. Today as we say farewell and till we meet again to our dearest Papa, we also promise to walk out his legacy by being the rock that each of can lean on and a part of the glue that will continue to hold it all together, because we are family, his family. Until we meet again in eternity, our dearest Papa.

Until next time

From my heart to yours,

laurie

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