my heart in my hands

my heart in my hands

In The Four Loves C.S. Lewis writes:

There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket—safe, dark, motionless, airless—it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside of heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is hell.

closing yourself off is MUCH easier than loving people. Continue reading

hello again. (fmf 11/4/16)

hello again. (fmf 11/4/16)

i havent been in this space for what feels like ages.

i’m not sure why, other than that who i was before, is now who i am now. but isn’t that true of all of us?

life happens, time passes, and we are different.

this part of my journey  is new and looks so different from it what did before.

i read someplace that God allows us to go thru hard things so that we can learn things that we’d never learn any other way.

it feels weird that i am so different now. odd that my last year with my father changed so much of who i am in my core. what i believe now is different.

how i view life and living is different.

who i consider my true friends are is different.

how i relate on “normal” days to my children is different.

how i love my man is different.

how i view God had His people is different.

maybe i grew up a bit more while i was walking with my dad down the last bend on this earth. i think by helping him finish his journey well helped me to discover more of my own.

i told a friend the other day, “i’m not sure who the woman is who looks back at the mirror at me anymore….she’s lost her voice.”

and maybe she has. maybe i don’t know her because i’ve never been her before. but i think she’s braver, stronger, more no-nonsense and real. maybe i’ll grow to like her in time.

(5min up)

i hope you’ll stick around and find out if you like her as well.

Search for:

just practicing

just practicing

i’m an eavesdropper a listener.

sometimes my quiet is because i’m just listening.

so much to learn about who people are when they are talking to someone else.

words spoken under breath as people walk past. the “hmph”s and the mumbled. (i wonder why they don’t say something?)

so often gossip comes by proxy. “poor dear” becomes “did you know_______?!”

 

then the positive and loving things  i hope are said on a regular basis.. “he’s just so precious.” “I picture her as _____.” said with a smile.

the blushing smile he didn’t get to see…the one she in unsure she wants him to notice.

the laughter–deep belly laughs from way down where joy lives.

the conversations between lovers and friends. beautiful words.

i read a quote about listening a while back. it sits on my shoulder playing on repeat.

“we don’t listen to hear, we listen to respond.”

so, maybe this is practice. head down, pen to paper. ears open.

the more i hear the more i know i miss in my mental preparations to respond.

~s

 

 

 

 

 

 

linking up:

 


and we speak

walking in his boots. up to my hips in daddy’s shoes.
sitting in his lap watching tv.
changes. in me. in him. in time.
then enough time changes.
and i’m a grown woman and he an older version of my daddy.
he calls.
we talk.
of life. of memories shared from his childhood.
revealing a  bit more of his life that i never thought to ask about.
we speak now.
of life; of mine. of his.
and i miss him

Laura Boggess