God is My Bowl of Cream of Wheat

   After experiencing my first dry, HOT Nevada summer, I am definitely enjoying this week’s burst of cooler, fall weather – yay!  How about you?  Waking up to a brisk 49 degrees (and after pulling out my warm, fur lined slippers), I find myself longing for a bowl of hot, satisfying Cream of Wheat! Mmmmm…Rich and creamy, made with milk and a touch of pure maple syrup for just a hint of sweetness, topped with dried cranberries and cinnamon toasted walnuts or pecans – oh yes! Just what my tummy is hungering for. 

Mmmmm…that was SO good! Soothed me right up!

     As I was eating, I got to thinking this: my rich, delicious, soothing bowl of cream of wheat does for my tummy and body, just what my relationship with God does for my soul and my life. Oooooh yeeeeeaah!  Here’s how:

The thick, hot cream of wheat itself serves as my breakfast foundation; it’s the soothing, nutrient rich filler that lines my tummy and satisfies my hunger.  Just like my relationship with God.  Believing in God, allowing myself to love Him, and having deep faith, fills me up with goodness, satisfies my hunger for belonging and self-worthiness, soothes my battered soul and creates the rich foundation for everything in my life.

The little touch of pure maple syrup serves as the wholesome little bit of sweetness I need to not crave delicious and tempting super fats like fried donuts and pies in the morning!!  This is like prayer – my conversations with God.  Talking with God fills me up with sweet love from my Maker, satisfying my craving for acceptance and love and all the very tempting but bad-for-me things in this world.  After imbibing in a little prayer time, I feel loved and renewed and good about myself, and relieved of the need to go out and seek the wrong kind of acceptance socially.

The cranberries lend a little bit of tartness just to liven things up. They get my orneriness and backbone going, just like God’s Word or Scripture does.  When I need a little strength and courage to do what needs to be done, I can always go to the Book and find that encouragement and backbone, and even a little direction for my day to day living.  Plus, cranberries are loaded with anti-oxidants and help improve immune function.  Scripture is also loaded with anti-oxidants for life, and applying God’s words to my life definitely improves my immunity to temptation. (smile smile)

The cinnamon adds a little spice for variety and flavor.  Just like my Christian service and ministry work.  I love the sometimes sweet, sometimes spicy flavor of cinnamon, and I love the sweet feelings and spicy variety I find in helping/doing nice things for others.  People and physical work can be great fun, but they can also be quite spicy!  But like cinnamon, mission work is full of variety and adds so much robust flavor to my life!

And, finally, the nuts give a little shot of protein, a little “meat” to cling to my tummy, which helps the rich cream of wheat fill me up, making me feel that much more satisfied and content.  This is just how I feel when I visit (fellowship) with other believers, whether socially or in church.  They back up and affirm my faith, helping to enrich and shore up my confidence and satisfaction in serving God.  And when I might falter, they are there to help carry me through the empty spots. These friends are God’s little helpers in making my life rich, happy, full and satisfying.

So there, you have it – God is my bowl of cream of wheat ♥

Yum!

Morning Grace!

Good Sunday Morning!!

What are you thankful for today?

…I know, some days it seems very hard to pinpoint even just one thing to be thankful for.  But for today – I am so thankful and grateful for each and every person in my life who grants and gives me so much wonderful love, unconditionally and always, whenever I need it.  

I am blessed far beyond what I deserve!

So, thank YOU from the bottom of my heart, each one of you, 

for loving and supporting me, 

I am truly thankful. <3

Mindy <3

Grief Has Gripped Me Today: A Note to My Family

It has been 20 years since my little Tommy died, but today would have been his 30^th birthday.

A milestone.

It seems it is the milestone days that still grab a hold of me;

The anniversary of the accident; his birthdays; His special days.  My special days. 

I think about him on these days and wonder, “What would Tommy think about this?” Or like today, I wonder what kind of cake and decorations would he have wanted for his big 30^th birthday?  Would turning 30 have bothered him? I can’t help thinking these things.  I remember my daughter’s 30^th birthday 2 years ago and how much I enjoyed plotting with her BFF.  How much I enjoyed sharing the milestone and excitement with her, by phone, texts, and pictures.  How much fun it was!! 

Memories I will cherish forever.

But today, I don’t get to do that with my son. 

This is what hurts; not getting to share these special days with my son.

It’s not that I wish he was back here on earth with me; no, I believe - I know - he is in Heaven with his father, his Papa, and his Heavenly Father and living it up, happy and fulfilling his ultimate purpose.  I am so happy for that!  I am so thankful that I don’t have to worry about him and his well-being anymore.

But I miss him! Oh how I miss him still!

 I miss having the opportunity to share these special milestone days with him. 

I miss getting to make new memories with him. 

Like the milestone of getting his driver’s license, and graduating from high school; or the fun of meeting his girlfriends and contemplating his getting married, or his actual wedding!  Or holding his new baby for the very first time – Lord, I’ll never have that sweet, precious blessing.  All these precious memories I didn’t/won’t get to make and keep with my sweet little boy, Tommy. 

Who would have been 30 years old today.

That’s what I grieve for – the missed memories.

The promise of each of those sweet, life-bringing memories, whispers through your heart the moment you lay your eyes on that tiny, fresh new miracle for the very first time.  He takes his first breath outside of your warm protecting womb and your Mommy hopes and dreams take breath and soar! You are that little exquisite miracle’s Mommy!

When you lose that child, a part of yourself leaves too.  But you’re still left cradling that exquisite little box inside of you that holds all those sweet promises of life giving memories that are yet to come. 

But when the memory-making day comes, or the days that should have been memory-making days, you can’t seem to comprehend; your heart cannot understand – because the reason for that special day is somehow not here; he was – but somehow now he’s gone!  There’s no life or breath to give to that memory.  That memory that you looked so forward to, now will never be.

That is what a grieving Mommy grieves for. Not to have her beloved child back to suffer on this earth – no!  But to have life breathed back into that little box of memories, to live and experience each of those exquisite little promises with that beautiful little miracle that was her child. 

To keep making and living those life-giving memories secretly promised the day he was born.

Yes, grief has gripped me today.

But I have pulled out my exquisite little box of memories already made and am filling up with the life-breath they are breathing into me.  I’m smiling and my heart is glad!

And then I sob.

My heart is overwhelmed and begins to break apart again. 

And I sob.

But then I remember – I have these memories.  And they can be enough.

I feel relief. 

The burden, swollen and heavy, is lightened once again.

And I cry again.

But it’s ok. 

Because I know I need to cry – tears to relieve the hurting, to release once again the broken promise of what this day might have been; to help me accept what my box of memories will now never hold.

So, tears go ahead and fall.  Yes, at first you were Pain, but now you are Healing.

Each of you land in a broken part of me and with enough of you given, you‘ll hold me together again.  And I‘ll live and breathe and smile once again.

Yes, I am different; there are scars from the loss.  But with time they fade and don’t hurt as much. 

So, please let me cry to relieve the hurt.  And remember those memory days – will be the worst.  If my child was still here, today would be all about him, so allow me to spend today in memory of him.  And please remember that when he died, he didn’t cease being the child I birthed.  For in my little exquisite box of memories called Tommy, there are 9 full years of promises fulfilled; 9 full years of dreams come true; 9 full years of the life and love that was Tommy; 9 full years of me being that little exquisite boy’s Mommy!

So let me grieve a little – or a lot - for a little boy full of love.  Let me release those built up tears that will heal my wound.  Remember, that like a broken bone, time heals, but still leaves a scar, and on a cold winter’s day, that scar will ache.  So like an athlete, we must adjust and make allowances for those cold winter days and that cold winter ache. 

So, yes, I’ll have cold winter days and my scar will ache, but I’ll pull out my warm little box of memories and breathe them in.  My tears will fall, but when my heart warms with memories, the cold ache will fade.  And I’ll smile again - until the next cold winter’s day.

Yes, grief will grip me from time to time, but with your tender understanding – I’ll be fine.  

Mountains of Love

          Many of us have specific days, weeks, or months each year, which commemorate a life, a death, an event in our lives, which each year catch our hearts, our breath, our thoughts, and makes life tough to get through for that day, week, month.  After much time, many years maybe, these days get a little easier to get through, yes, sometimes we can even carry on with just the vague remembrance pushed to the back of our minds.  But do our hearts ever forget that day, week, month, completely? No.

               But, yes, we can get to a point where these days, weeks, months bring mostly a fond remembrance, a sweet tug at our heart, a quiet but nice time of reflection on what used to be.

               Beginning today, July 6^th, begins a day and a week such as this for my family.  It was a July 6^th that my children’s Daddy, Tommy Joe Pruett, died when he ran his pick-up truck off the road and crashed.  Because he was a Purple Heart Decorated Vietnam Veteran, with subsequent, sometimes severe PTSD, the days after his crash were filled with questions on how/why he ran off that road.  No real answers ever came.  And after much deliberation and grief, the family decided to wait and bury him on July 11^th, which was my son’s, Tommy Joe Pruett II, birthday – my son who died in a tragic school bus accident some years previously.  In our minds, this would be sort of a birthday present to my son in Heaven, to officially give his Daddy back to him on his birthday.

This was the one little scrap of joy we could pull out of the desperately sad situation,

to place in our desperately hurting hearts, to help us cope.

               Looking back on that time, 13 years ago, I see the grief filled eyes, I feel the numbing pain of disbelief – yes – BUT – I also see the LOVE; the mountains of love between a family and the lifetime of friends, gathered to mourn, but also to love – to love the grieving hearts through the difficult days.  I see the love of a family for their beloved son, husband, father. 

               Today, and this week, I choose to remember that love – that beautiful love of a family, of a community, of a life I once lived - and loved.  I choose not to remember the questions, the discrepancies, the disagreements and turmoil.  I will remember the Pruett Family with love and gratefulness for the years they held me in love, within their family.  And though this week I will grieve with them, for 2 beloved family members, I will also rejoice with them in the time God gave me – us – with my first husband, Tommy, and my son, Tommy II. 

Yes, this week I wrap myself up in the

 Mountains of Love <3