It is well... it really is.

My father was diagnosed with Alzheimer's at the age of 55. I remember the day that my mom called from the doctor's office. We knew that there was a problem. He knew that there was a problem. And on that day, the doctor confirmed that there was a problem.


I remember being at their house not long after he was diagnosed. He had taken early retirement. He was home doing the things he loved - riding his tractor, cutting his grass, working in his yard. We went for a walk in the pasture. We never really talked about the disease. In fact, I don't ever really remember talking about it with him. But he talked about lots of other things. He told me things I did not know. He reminded me of things I did know. He affirmed some of my feelings and concerns about those family things that you normally never get around to voicing. I guess it was his way of acknowledging the situation without actually talking about it.


Mom took the brunt of the caregiving. She did the day in and day out stuff. It was very hard. It was a lot of years. I felt like I lost my daddy twice. The first time was long and slow and painful.  It was a long 13 years. We watched as he slowly forgot things. We helped as he slowly could not do the everyday things. There were a lot of years of him being frustrated with himself and then there were a lot of years of him being frustrated with us. There were a lot of years that he was cared for in a nursing home. And there were a lot of years that he had no idea who I was.


The second loss came quickly. In less than 24 hours. He had pneumonia. He went down hill quickly. We had already prepared for this scenario. We knew by this time that this would come. But you are never ready for it, no matter how long it has been or how hard it has been.


We spent those last hours by his side. My husband, my brother and my sister-in-law sat with me on his bed. I wondered during those hours if he knew we were there. We told stories. We laughed. We cried. We watched his breathing begin to slow down. He began to look peaceful for the first time in a long time. Right at the end, he opened his eyes. He looked right at me. It was a look of recognition. There is no doubt in my mind that he saw me and knew it was me. It was quick. Just a brief moment.


A few minutes later, he looked to the corner of the room. There was another look of recognition. There is no doubt in my mind that he saw Jesus. It was quick. Just a brief moment. Soon he was gone. Very peaceful. 


There were so many lessons in all those years. Some I learned as they happened. Others I have learned over the years as I reflect back on that time. It was long and it was hard but there were so many blessings. Sometimes it just takes a long time to realize the blessings. But they were there and God's presence in our lives was so evident as we look back.


A few weeks after his death, mom and I were talking about what to put on his grave marker. She decided on a picture of a tractor. The inscription read: It is well with my soul. And you know, even then, it really was.

When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

Be Still and Know...

Do you ever have those days when you just can't get motivated? Everything seems like a distraction and you just can't seem to do anything right. There is so much to do but no matter how hard you try nothing seems to get done.

Am I the only one that feels like that sometimes? Today is one of those days.  My journal only has a few sentences in it. I have prayed and prayed about what to write. And still nothing.

I love to write. It is my way of talking to God. I write out my prayers and my thoughts. Not because I think I have to but because it helps me to see what is inside. The part that He already sees. When you sit down and write your thoughts as they come to you, things come pouring out that you didn't know were there. But some days you sit and pray and hold your pen but still nothing.

Today, while I was sitting and praying and desperately trying to think of something to write, I thought of my favorite verse: "Be still and know that I am God" Psalm 46:10

I don't know about you but I am not very good at the be still part! I like to think that I can handle the knowing that He is God part. But as I sat and thought about it, I really don't believe that He is God if I can't be still while I know.

That is good, huh? I was proud of myself and started to write what I thought that meant and how I need to believe in His promises and trust in His plan. Still nothing came pouring out.

So, I sat there. No real thoughts. No real prayers. Nothing but stillness.

In that stillness, it dawned on me, that being still does not necessarily mean not moving or not doing anything. It means let go, chill out, be calm. For me, it means let go of the need to please people. It means chill out from the fear of not getting it all done. It means be calm and remember that only through Him can I do all things.

I need to be still in my heart. When I get still in my heart, then everything that I know about who God is can get through to my brain. Even while I am running my errands or at work or dealing with one of my girls; I can be still in my heart. And then I am free to know.

I know what God's Word says and what His promises are. I know the things He has done for me in the past can provide calm for my future. I know that not only is He the Creator God but He is my God. I know that He is my refuge and my strength. I know that He is the same today as He was yesterday. I know that in spite of anything I do or don't do today that He will be the same God tomorrow. I know all of these things from experience.

So today I am heading out to get things done. I have a long list and I need to get moving. But I am being still in my heart because of what I know about God. Today I choose to not just know that intellectually but to know it practically. To know it spiritually. To know it emotionally.

Want to join me? Let's be still and know.

Wisdom in Whatever...

Have your children ever looked at you and said, "Whatever..."? I am sure that I am the only mother with girls that would say such a thing. But, in case there are others out there, just wanted to share my thoughts. 


My girls usually say the "whatever" to each other in context to their being on the receiving end of an accusation. Or they use it as an answer to my long explanation of how I see a certain situation or event. It usually translates as "it doesn't really  matter what you think or do or say. I don't really care."


They don't use the word as much anymore because they have grown up a bit and they learned the consequences when used with their father and me. But today I heard a teenager use it with her mom. I don't know the context of the argument, but the part I heard ended with the teenager telling her mom - "Whatever, mom. Quit trying to tell me what to think and feel. I can think anything I want!"


Well, that is true. We are capable of thinking anything we want. We can feel anyway we choose. It is completely up to us no matter what age we are. We make a choice everyday.


When I got home this morning, I was having my quiet time and the verse in one of my daily devotions was from Philippians 4:8-9.  I laughed out loud when I read the familiar scripture:

Finally, brothers and sisters, 

whatever is true, 

whatever is noble, 

whatever is right, 

whatever is pure, 

whatever is lovely, 

whatever is admirable

if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—

think about such things.

 Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me

put it into practice. 

And the God of peace will be with you.

As I thought about this verse and the teenagers response to her mom, I realized that we do get to choose what we think about. We get to choose how we respond to or put into practice what we think about. It does matter.

I used to tell my girls all the time... garbage in, garbage out. I would ask them what value that TV show or that movie or that magazine or that conversation with their friend was teaching them? What they learned or received or heard or saw made a difference in how they thought.

When we think on the things that are true, noble, right, pure, lovely and admirable then we tend to respond to the people around us with the same characteristics. It takes the focus off of ourselves and puts it on others. To think on these things is the action we are told to take but the reward is Peace. Peace will be with us if we think on these things.

Today I am choosing to think about the things in my life that are true and noble and right. The things that are pure and lovely and admirable. The good things around me that are excellent and praiseworthy.

Whatever you choose to think about today... may the God of Peace be with you.

Pineapples and Perspective

Someone stole my pineapple. Wow, that sounds more ridiculous than I thought... Yes, someone stole my 68lb, solid concrete pineapple right off the top of my mailbox. It just vanished one night. When I told people that it was stolen, I cried. Now those that do not know me thought I was a little strange but anyone that knows my family well knew what I was talking about. We are the house on the right with the concrete pineapple on the mailbox.

The pineapple is the universal sign for hospitality. Did you know that? Christopher Columbus was the first one to give account to the symbol. The symbol conveys the feeling of welcome and safety. It says, "Welcome to my home. Please come in and join us." At least that is the southern version. And I knew what the symbol meant. That is why it sat on top of my mailbox.

We needed a house with a guest bedroom on the main floor. My daddy couldn't be left alone anymore and mom needed a place without steps or any extra confusion when they came to visit. They always spent holidays at my house and it was getting harder to all stay in one area with the crowded feeling and confusion that came along with that for all of us. So Danny and I prayed for the perfect house that met all of our needs and that kept us in the same school district. We agreed to use our home for Him as a ministry however that ended up looking. God answered and we moved a few streets over into this house. We knew that it was an answer to prayer. 

We closed on this house on my 34th birthday. The girls started school the following Monday. My beloved grandmother died the next week. The busyness of Fall took over along with all of the emotions of moving and settling into a new home. I begin to forget that this was a provision and blessing from the Lord. This house was bigger and harder to keep clean and straight. There was always something that I thought needed to be done to make it better. The kitchen needed to be updated. The garage always seemed to be a mess. It just was too hard to make it look just right for us to have a small group meet here or to have dinner guests or even for spend the night parties for the girls. My life felt out of control. I loved being a part of all of those things. As long as they weren't at my house.

One day a friend of mine told me about her morning devotion. It was about the gift of hospitality and the story of the pineapple. 1 Peter 4:9 in the amplified Bible reads like this - "Gladly open your homes and welcome each other as guests, especially those who need a meal or a room overnight - and don't complain about the inconvenience." I learned that day that hospitality is expected from all believers but that it also is a gift of the Spirit.  I remembered our prayer about this house. And the conviction hit hard. Things needed to change.

My fears of what people would think of my home or that it didn't quiet look trendy enough or it was not decorated just right came crashing in. I am not a home decorator. It is not something that was ever that important to me. My home is simple. Clean and comfortable but nothing special. I began to argue my point with the Lord... but we need to finish the basement, my den isn't big enough for Bible study, the guest room is not really suited for anyone but family. He didn't seem to agree with me and before I knew it my father-in-law showed up with the concrete pineapple for my mailbox. Yes, God has a sense of humor!

So everyday that I pulled in and out of my driveway, I would see the pineapple and be reminded that the gift of hospitality comes with a Helper. I don't have to worry about my schedule or the condition of my house or how in the world I am going to be nice when I don't really feel like having a house full of people. If I just allow God to open my heart and love for me, then I can open my home and He will do the same. 

It took a while but slowly we began to open our home. We hosted small groups. The girls had their friends over more. We had huge spend the night parties and celebrated with their LUG groups and D groups. I began to have a Bible Study every Wednesday night. When we gave directions to our home we all always said the same thing... it is the house on the right with the concrete pineapple on the mailbox.

When the pineapple was stolen it took me a few days to get over being mad and sad. But then the Lord gently reminded me about what the pineapple meant. He reminded me that it was not in my own strength or with my own love that I had learned to be hospitable. It was only by His strength and His love that I could open my home. My perspective returned.

This weekend my wonderful father-in-law showed up with another pineapple! Just like the old one. He put it back in its place on my mailbox. A symbol that our home is a gift from God. An answer to prayer. My earnest hope is that we will always treat it that way no matter how we feel or how tired we are or what the inside looks like. 

If you ever want to visit us just come on over! We are the house on the right with the concrete pineapple on the mailbox.

Finish Strong... it is Friday!

My youngest daughter had her first cross country meet yesterday. Danny and I went to cheer her on. We were breathing hard just walking from the parking lot to the race course. She had to run 3.1 miles on a very difficult course. 


Running is not something that comes natural to her. She wanted to do it because all of her friends were runners. She ran all summer for conditioning and they run everyday after school. She has to work at it. But she has been there everyday for practice and working hard at something that isn't always fun.


We were a little late for the race and missed the start. I have never been to a cross country race so I wasn't sure what to expect or how it all works. We came to the top of a hill into a huge open field filled with parents, siblings and students standing all over cheering and clapping. As we made our way to the top of the last hill before the finish line the first runners were heading toward the end. The crowd was urging them on. "You can do it!" "Just a little farther!" "Run girls... run!!"


As silly as it sounds, it was a bit emotional. Such a sense of community and encouragement. Each girl running for their own time and their own goal but surrounded by people wanting them to finish strong. As we watched the girls run by, the cheers remained positive. There were fewer and fewer runners and the boys team had to leave to get ready to start their race. The cheering section was not quite as loud. We still had not seen our daughter. Let's just say that she was not the fastest runner out there.


As I waited to see a glimpse of her, I saw Danny walk to the top of the hill. He started cheering but I still could not see her. Then I saw the top of that blonde head. Slowly and steadily she lifted her eyes toward her daddy. As soon as she saw him, everything changed. She picked her head up and kept running. Up that huge hill and toward her daddy and the finish line. He cheered and urged her on. He gave her a high five and told her she could do it. She was almost there. "Keep running. The finish line is right around the corner."


She finished. Not one of the first runners. Actually, closer to one of the last. But she finished. Surrounded by a community of people that cheered her on. Urged on by her daddy. She crossed the finish line!


Life is like that isn't it? There is always that last hill. The one that looks so huge. We are exhausted and looking down at our circumstances. But if we pick our head up, there is Someone there cheering us on. He is waiting patiently for us to look up so we can see the finish line.


It is Friday. There is a long weekend ahead of us. Today, I choose to lift up my head away from the stress. Away from the fears. Away from the stuff that seems to make life so hard sometimes. My Daddy is at the top of the hill. He is cheering me on. He wants me to get close enough for Him to give me a high five. He will tell me I can do it. The finish line is right around the corner. 


"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us." ~ Hebrews 12:1.

Fear, Failure and the Future

Wow... those are some big words. They sum up a lot of what I feel. My biggest fear is that of failure.  If I am really honest, fear is the one emotion I relate to the most.

When I was in Rome, we did the Colosseum tour. Katie and I bought our tickets. We put on our headsets like seasoned tourists and took off to explore the ancient site. There is lots of history attached to the building. Some of it is true. Some of it very embellished and some of it just never happened. But history aside, the one thing that you can relate to standing inside that place is fear. The fear that those gladiators must have felt no matter how much armor they had on or how strong they were. The fact of the matter was that someone or something was going to die.


The other thing that struck me about actually being in Rome and seeing the Colosseum was the fact that it was not what I had built up in my head. The movies and the pictures make it seem so big and sitting prominently in its ominous glory. Well, the truth is, it sits right in the middle of everything else. The city and the people just live, eat and work around it. It is big but not as big as I thought it would be.


Fear is like that, isn't it? When we actually take the time to look at it. Fear has a lot of history attached to it. Some of it is true but a lot of it is embellished and even some of it just never happened the way we remember it. When I actually fail at the thing I was so fearful of, it doesn't seem to look like what I built up in my head. A lot of times I am the only one that noticed the "failure" because it sits in the middle of everyone else's "failures".  It is big but not as big as I thought it would be.


Please know that I am not making light of fear. I know how debilitating it can be. I personally believe that fear is the root of all of our issues. I am simply saying that in our human perception we tend to look more at the fear and the failure than we do at the future. Fears seem to initiate from our past, but Jesus replaces our fear with hope for our future. 


Today I am choosing to face some of my fear head on. To ask the Lord what He wants me to know about my fear. To look at it with His perspective not what I have built it up to be in my head. The fact of the matter is that Someone did die and because of that I have Hope for the future. 


That Hope is worth writing about. One of my fears is this blog. What will people think? What will they say about my personal thoughts? Will I fail at my dream of writing? I don't know. But today I am writing what I am learning... fears and all.

"So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.

 I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." 

Isaiah 41:10.

A Parent's Peek

I am still getting used to the changes in our family and in our home. Dinner for three is different for us. Great and fun but different.


Sending my second daughter off to college was different too. I thought it would be somehow easier or I would be more prepared after doing it already. But I was wrong. It was the same feeling when we drove away that afternoon of move in day. That indescribable feeling that a part of you is being ripped away. She was so ready and so prepared and so was I for that matter. But the feelings still came.


Life continues no matter what our circumstances are. Have you noticed that? Everyone just keeps on doing their thing even though our life has drastically changed. I think it takes moms a little longer after each change to catch back up. I still have those mornings when I just want it all to go back to the way it was. When this was a home of little girls full of busy schedules and lots to talk about. When they all needed me to help them make the right choice or listen to the stories of their day.


As I was journaling this morning and feeling a little sorry for  myself, the Lord reminded me that His mercies are new every morning. His faithfulness is great and what He began in my girls' hearts and lives will be carried to completion in His way and in His timing. I simply need to choose to look at it with His perspective.


We went to Athens on Sunday for a parent's peek at sorority life. So fun to see all the new faces and friends. It felt a little strange to see her be so comfortable in a surrounding that I knew nothing about. It was her life. I was just allowed a peek. As I thought about that this morning, I realized that the choices she had made were good. They were actually the choices I would have made. I would have picked that sorority and the friends we met were the girls that I would have wanted her to pick. She is figuring it all out in her own way but that peek gave me comfort.


This morning the Lord gave me a peek through His eyes. A reminder that as I stand in the gap for my girls He is on the front lines with them. They may be out of my physical reach and away from my audible advice but they know that I am here if they need me. And for a moment He let me see that she was listening all those years...

Fall, Fears, Freshmen and Futures

Fall is my favorite season. I love everything about it. The colors, the weather and the holidays. But every year it comes at the same time as change. A new school year. A new season for my girls. Hunting season for my husband. Everything changes during my favorite time of year. And with the change usually comes fear.

This is a big year of change for us. This Fall I find myself with two new freshmen and a future bride. That is a lot of change. It brings with it a lot of emotions. This morning I find myself fighting the fear that so easily creeps into my life.

For me, it is the fear of the unknown. I am a planner. I love to be in control. As long as there is a plan then I know the direction that I need to go. When the girls were little, I always had a plan. The plan for the day. The plan for the vacation. The plan for dinner, nap time and bed time. But you know what they say about the best laid plans...

I learned very young that life does not always follow your plan. I met Danny when I was 18. We were married when I was 21 and we had Katie when I was 23 and Ansley when I was 25. My dad was diagnosed with Alzheimers when I was 26. My plan quickly fell apart.

There were a lot of hard years. There is no play book for this kind of diagnosis at that age. You just do the best you can. All of my parenting books and Growing Kids God's Way classes didn't cover this scenario. I did not know anyone my age with small children that could relate to most of what I was going through. Fear began to be my daily companion and most of the time led to anger.

There are lots of lessons that came out of that time. Lots of blessings too. But today, the Lord reminded me that fear is not from Him. He has the best plan. He always has. It was laid out for me long before I began to live it. And life has taught me to put down my control and follow His plan.

There is a plan for Maddie's high school years. There is a plan for Ansley's college years. There is a plan for Katie's wedding. He has it all under control. The choice is mine. I can choose to follow my plan or I can choose to follow His.

Today I wrote down my plan for this year. (I tend to think in school calendar mode) I put down all the perfect scenarios for all of us. The perfect plan in my mind. I folded it neatly and placed it in my journal. I got on my knees and laid it down. I physically let go of it and said "That's mine but I want Yours."

"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you, declares the Lord and will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you, declares the Lord, and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile."

As organized as I am and as good as I am at schedules; I cannot formulate the perfect plan. Life gets in the way. I can't control the people around me or the things that happen. But I can follow His plan as long as I don't pick mine back up. It has taken a few years and a lot of prayer and practice, but I am learning...

My Chair

The chair is where God is. He meets me there. Yes, I know that He is sovereign and I know the words omniscient and omnipresent and all the other theological doctrine. But, my chair is where God is for me.

I was 34 years old. My dad had been diagnosed with Early Onset Alzheimers when he was 55. Mom had kept him home for almost 9 years. It was getting bad. We took him to a doctor. They said he could no longer live at home. He went into the hospital. Mom moved into my house. The girls and Danny's world changed again. I panicked. Danny bought me the chair.

It sits in the corner of my bedroom. Right next to the window tucked into a cozy spot between the night stand and my grandmother's antique dresser. Nothing special. Just an ordinary piece of furniture. But for me, it is Holy Ground.

No matter how far I run. No matter how much I mess up. No matter how fearful, forgetful or fired up I get; I always find my way back to the chair. God is faithfully, patiently waiting for me there. Every single time! Sometimes I just sit. A lot of times I cry. I have long conversations with my girls there. I do my quiet time in that seat. I cry out on my knees in front of the ottoman. I curl up and let Him hold me there. And He meets me there. Every single time!

That chair has heard it all. Thank goodness it can't talk! It is my shelter and my comfort zone. It reminds me that when everything is shaking and falling apart that there is a safe place. It reminds me of all the things I have to be thankful for and that only by the Grace of God do I get to sit in it each day.

I have grown so much through my circumstances, breaking free from my fears, studying His Word and experiencing God's Grace. But, for me, that chair is a picture of God's faithfulness. It never leaves. It never moves. It is always right there in the same place all the time.

Maybe it is silly or maybe even weird, but I love my chair. God is proving Himself faithful every day. Jesus loves me this I know for the Bible tells me so. I read about it while I was sitting in my chair.

Accordions and Amore

I had the privilege of going to Rome at the beginning of the summer. Not Rome, GA but Rome, Italy! Katie spent the month of July in Italy for a study abroad program. I met her at the end of her trip and went to Rome for a week. The trip itself was such a blessing and such an answer to prayer. I could tell the stories and all the things that we learned from that trip forever; but today the Lord reminded me about the accordion player.


When you picture a sidewalk in Italy, do you hear the old accordion player playing Amore in the background and see the quaint bistro tables filled with couples looking adoringly into each others eyes? Well, that is what a lot of it looks like. But life isn't so picture perfect, is it?


I sometimes feel like the accordion being stretched and pulled in every direction. And there are days when my melody is terribly out of tune. I simply can't make it sound beautiful no matter how hard I try.


But God reminded me this morning that I am not responsible for the music or how it sounds. He is! If I allow Him to play the keys while life is doing the pulling and stretching then something marvelous happens. All of sudden I am in tune and the melody is a masterpiece with my name on it. 


Life knocks us out of tune. We feel like the soundtrack of our days is a broken record being played over and over again. But the Master Musician wants our lives to be a symphony. Each song composed with us in mind. Our very own melody with its own unique sound.


It is Friday and this week's symphony is building to a crescendo... I am going to choose to let Him finish my song. He will fill it with love and compose it with tender mercy. As I sit back and listen, I find myself looking adoringly into His eyes.

A transParent's heart

Everything is changing...

She is moving back into her apartment for her senior year of college. Nothing too new except that she will never really come back home. She will move back for a few weeks to get ready for her wedding but she will be preparing for her new home and life during that time. She will be living out of boxes and busyness! Everything is changing...

She is moving into her dorm room. Her room is empty now. She will come back but it won't be the same. She will be a  young woman making her own choices, her own decisions, living her own life. She will be full of new adventures and stories that we aren't a part of. Everything is changing...

She left for high school this morning. Yes, she is coming back but her world just got bigger. She is surrounded by new things, new people and new choices. Her life at home will be different. There won't be someone down the hall to look at her outfit or to listen when mom just doesn't understand. She lives at the very end of the hallway upstairs. It will be a very quiet walk to her room now. Everything is changing...

Thank goodness their daddy loves me! It is all changing but it is all good. God is good. Life is good. Change is good. We are aliens in this world passing through to our permanent home. I have been given the privilege of loving, nurturing, teaching, exhorting, and molding these 3 incredible lives. It is a gift and I know it.  Just a season. The next part will be just as exciting and just as fulfilling but everything is changing...

She is ready. All the she's in my life. It is time. They are on the runway. Spread your wings sweet girls. It is time to fly! But know this... I will be standing on the sidelines cheering like crazy as I watch you go~

roommates and roadmaps

I had lunch with my college roommate yesterday. We had a blast! We have talked on and off over the last few years but we haven't actually seen each other for an intentional amount of time in probably 20 years. We put the date on the calendar. We made a plan and we followed through. Finally!

She looks the same as she did in college. A little older and wiser but still the same beautiful skin and dark hair. We didn't miss a beat. We started talking and had to make ourselves stop so that we could get on with our busy lives. We did the speed catch up on our girls and our husbands and even a little about ourselves. The conversation naturally led to how God had changed us over the years and the things He has taught us and those around us. It was wonderful and filled up a part of me I didn't know was empty.

Micah and I knew each other in kindergarten. She lived in McDonough and our parents knew each other well. She moved away and we saw each other again for the first time on move in day at college. We became friends immediately and became roommates after 1st quarter. We lived together all four years... in a dorm room! There were no apartments back then and we weren't allowed to live off campus so we lived side by side in a tiny dorm room for all four years including a summer session. We were in the same sorority, had the same friends, were in each others' weddings and sent Christmas cards every year.

Life happened and we didn't have time to get together or even to catch up. There was never time. It happens to the best of us doesn't it? Those friends that were such an important part of your life and then they just kind of fade away into memory. Facebook made it easier to reconnect. Gotta love it! We could "see" each other and our families. I felt like I knew what was going on in her life. I could see the outside but I had no idea what was in her heart.

When my dad died, we had the visitation and funeral all in one day at the same place. We were surrounded by family and friends, both old and new. All of my friends came that had walked through the 13 years with me. I needed them there and they gave me peace and confidence that all would be all right. But it was when I looked up and saw a familiar face walking towards me that the empty part of me that needed filling up a little more became filled to overflowing. Micah's dad had read the obituary in the paper and called her. She got in the car and drove to the funeral home. She gave me a hug and said all the right things. We cried. But none of that stuff filled that emptiness; the pure fact that she showed up was all I needed. We are a part of each other's past. We shared a very significant part of our lives together. Whether we talk or see each other, we are connected.

God gives each of us a roadmap of our lives. He knows where it starts and He knows where it will end. The path is marked out even though we tend to take a lot of detours along the way. There are people that come and go in those detours. Some we have known forever. Some we meet along the way.  Some stay. Some go away forever. Some get mad at us and some just love us in spite of ourselves. But God puts all of them there for a reason. They dot the roadmap of our lives. Going back and looking at that map sometimes helps us see clearly where we are going or where we need to go.

I encourage you to pick a dot on your roadmap. Reach out and reconnect. It does your heart good. Write a letter, make a lunch date or just send a Facebook message! You may have a place that you didn't know was empty or you may fill that empty place for someone else. Either way, God will use it. I promise!