Why Not?

Why Not?

So.....it was a remark my cousin made about mindful discipline that got me thinking. We were talking about children at the time, but I began to think how that could apply to my life. So I thought about different words, (mindful, deliberate, purposeful), and decided I liked the sound of deliberate living—hence the name of my Blog—A Deliberate Life.

Years ago I filled a notebook with recipes and ideas for décor and music for the café of my dreams. When I was offered the opportunity to fulfill this dream, I let fear guide me and I turned the offer down.

Years ago I had a friend make me a pair of red pants with black paint splattered all over them. I bitterly regret that decision.

Twenty some years ago I left a letter unanswered---several months later when I wanted to answer the letter, I had lost the address and had no way of finding it anywhere else.

I have loved to write since I was very young. I never took the time to write or develop my writing--I might have had a Pulitzer Prize by now—(laughing).

When I talk about the things I want to do, quite often people will ask me why? ---- and I immediately think—why not? There have been too many times I have listened to the whys-- and have doubted what was in my heart-- instead of having the courage to follow the why nots. When I have made a deliberate choice to do what is in my heart, I have often been blessed. (I will concede that perhaps I should have consulted some of these why people before I had the red pants made....sigh).

So I deliberately looked at my regretful choices—I am changing what I can and accepting what I can't.

Having my own cafe? I still enjoy going back to the café I worked in when I was nineteen. The one where the dream started. I will always be grateful to the owners Judith and Peter for letting me work there and for believing in me enough to leave the café in my hands on Saturdays. It was a joy to cook and serve there.

The unanswered letter? Fast forward to 2012 and the joy of Google. I was able to find my friend on Facebook. I had the information for eight months before I asked myself why not? I wrote and I was delighted to hear back and I am enjoying a renewed friendship.

Around the same time I wondered if I should start the Blog I had been thinking about for over a year----‘Why Not?’--- Things that have been in my heart for years I have finally shared—Mom teaching me to make bread, (Art and Intuition of Bread making’), Dad learning to make bread, (More Bread Please), and my favorite memory from childhood, (Overwhelming Joy).

I LOVE this deliberate life. I feel like I am living with my eyes wide open and finally having the courage to listen to what is in my heart. I am determined to live the rest of my life deliberately, looking for---and living out the desires God puts in my heart for as long as He gives me breath.

The red pants? All I can say is, Please God---let there be no pictures floating around…

Faithful

mir·a·cle

an effect or extraordinary event in the physical world that surpasses all known human or natural powers and is considered as a work of God

My heart is aching tonight. Have you ever prayed for a miracle and not got it? I really wanted a miracle for my friend Wendy and her family—Her Mom had heart surgery three weeks ago and although she, her doctors, and her family fought valiantly for her health and life, she passed away this weekend. The day before she went for surgery I told her I would be praying for her--I loved her.

A few years ago, a new friend got cancer and was sick for a few months before she died. Her husband is a childhood friend—I wanted a miracle for them. I wanted it for me—I wanted her to get well so we could sit on her front steps in the sunshine--drink tea and get to know each other better—I was certain we would get our miracle—we didn’t.

When my mother died, I would have given anything for God to turn back time for a few hours, so I could have driven home the evening before as I had planned. I didn’t actually pray for that miracle, but I certainly thought about it. When Dad was sick for three weeks before he died, I prayed for God to heal his body. I wasn’t done loving him—or Mom.

Have you ever wondered about the miracles in our lives that we don't pray for? The disasters avoided because of God's intervention? Or the blessings in our lives that we don't ask for? Is love not a miracle? Our family? Our friends? Our very lives?

Do I question God’s faithfulness? No. I do not always like or understand God’s answers to my prayers---but I choose to trust Him—even when I am disappointed. I will never completely know or understand this side of eternity His love or the way He has worked in my life--through disappointment and blessings, but I am thankful for His unfailing love and faithfulness in my life.

A Constant Life

(Aunt Dina and Mom in younger years)

This morning in Church we were asked to share a memory of our Mom in honor of Mothers' Day. One of my first memories is of being in the living room pretending to fly as I jumped from the furniture. I am probably younger than four. I can hear Mom in the kitchen singing as she does the laundry. I can smell the laundry soap and bleach and hear the rhythm of the old washing machine beating the laundry clean. (I can smell molasses cookies baking too, but when I told Mom about this memory years ago she said it would not have been the same day).

This is the strongest memory of my Mom? Surely I loved my mother for more than doing laundry and making cookies? Then I realized--whether she was doing laundry, baking cookies, finding a jam jar for the hundredth bouquet of limp dandelions, or holding the bucket while I was sick—she was a constant presence. It is her presence that is the memory.

When she died it was painful. Who do you turn to when the one you have always turned to is gone? In the first few months I would reach for the phone to ask or tell her something. When I drove home on the weekend and walked through the door—my heart would strain to hear her footsteps in the kitchen or her voice calling out hello. I missed the warmth of her touch.

When people came to visit and offer sympathy to the family---everyone said the same things about her-- whether they knew her as Sister, Aunt, Friend, Neighbor, Jean, Jean-the-bean, or Mrs Ness. They spoke of her kindness and patience, her gentle spirit and laughed about that little bit of mischief in her. Even Dad as her husband and we as her children and grandchildren knew her the same way. All of these relationships were very different, but her character was obvious and constant throughout. What a blessing that was to me.

It has been almost eight years since Mom died. After the grief lifted I realized she is still with me, just differently. She is here in the results of her love and sharing her faith in God. She is here--in the example she lived. She is here in the smiles of family and friends. As her life was constant, so is her memory.

Mother

MOTHER

God gave so much

When He blessed me with a Mother

Whose ever open arms welcome...release

Warm soft cheek, salt and pepper hair

Gentle smile...loving heart

Breath and breast

Rising, rhythmic, reassuring

Ever maternal

Weary with satisfaction, her household clothed

She is contentment, ever changing

Her heart to mine

Sharing and caring

Our relationship bearing

Dreams and disappointments

I write this with much love

And eternal thanks

For my Mother, My friend

---With Love, Always-- Dianne (1994)

Proverbs 31:26 She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness