The Adoption Poem

There is a poem about adoption which my mother shared with me decades ago as a child.  It is a poem which has stuck with me all of my life.  It is a well known poem and is short, sweet, and to the point.  It is a love poem and one which I cherish.

It goes like this....

"Not flesh of my flesh,
Nor bone of my bone,
But still miraculously my own.

Never forget for a single minute
That you did not grow under my heart,
But in it!"

An adoptive parent's love for their adopted child wrapped up in these few words.  As a child, when I would often read this poem I thought about my mother's heart.  I thought about the fact that I was not part of her actual body.  There was absolutely nothing genetically in me that was a part of her.  She never carried me in her womb, I was never "under her heart".  She did not go through midnight cravings with me, aches and pains, morning sickness, nor the joyful moments of first feeling me kick in her womb.  She never went through the pain of childbirth with me.  None of those things we shared.  I really did ponder these facts.  

My mom had actually had two precious babies grow under her heart years prior to my brother's and my adoption, only to miscarry them both in her 2nd trimester both times because of Type 1 diabetes.  She did have joyful experiences of being an expectant mother.  She also felt tremendous grief and pain I would imagine.  She simply could not carry these precious ones in her womb until birth.  It just wasn't possible.  The doctors also told her if she were to continue to try to have more children with Dad that she was putting her life at substantial risk.  She must have been very ill during part of each of her pregnancies.  Mom was never able to hold her babies in her arms at birth, but she was able to hold us as babies in her arms.

There were times when thinking about my mother and my father that I so wished that I was physically part of both of them..... If I could have had one wish, it would have been that I was their natural born daughter too!  But I wasn't.  So, I would often let those thoughts go and I knew that no matter what, we had this incredibly special bond which was so strong and full of love.  This bond taught me so much over the course of my life.

What I have found out 4 and a half decades later (and even before this) is that I am so much a part of both of them, in different ways, outside of physical genes, that it is not even funny.  One of my dearest friends told me "You are your mother's daughter."  I consider that to be one of the highest of compliments.  I see a lot of my mom's compassionate, caring heart in my brother too and both of their enthusiastic, positive attitudes as well.

Just 2 nights ago I was passionately discussing and processing something I was concerned about with my husband, Michael.  He was listening intently and then he stopped and just stared at me and said, "You looked at this moment just like your mother and you sounded just like her too."  

And this type of thing happens with some (not all) families who have adoption as their story.  My brother and I are two of the blessed ones.  Not all stories turn out well.  Not all adoption stories have a happy ending.  Ours did.  Our lives were  forever changed for the better and I am constantly thankful for the blessings of the parents God brought into my life when I was a 7 week old infant.  My brother is just as thankful in regards to his adoption.

This poem must have been really special to my mother.  Why?  Well, she had typed it up on ivory stationery, not just once but twice.  Maybe more than twice.  I don't know.  

It was such a special good-bye gift....

The final weeks before Mom and Dad's condo was closing in the fall of 2012, I was cleaning out the last things in my mom's dresser.  It is a beautiful dresser, long with 12 drawers and a huge mirror over it to match.  She had that dresser as part of hers and Dad's bedroom suite for over 50 years.  It has ALWAYS been the dresser my mother had since I can remember.  I used to love her showing me her treasures in those dresser drawers.

Inside one of the drawers I found an Ivey's department store bag.  I opened it and inside were various sentimental things my mother had kept....

 .....my graduation program from Charlotte Catholic in 1985

.....the church bulletin from Myers Park UMC for graduation Sunday 1985

.....a Valentine I had given her in 1972

.....a mother's day card I had given to her which was really like an apology card 

.....little cut out photos of she and Dad

.....photos of my brother and I

.....an article from the Charlotte Observer about 2 adoptive parents and their son thanking them for being his parents

.....an Anniversary card from Dad

....and a card from my brother to both Mom and Dad.

Then there was this little ivory envelope.

I opened it up.

And there was the adoption poem.  I had not seen this poem in years!

I was sitting on the floor in my Mom and Dad's bedroom at the condo, surrounded by all of these things Mom kept all these years and held this card up to my chest and wept.  

It was the last little message from my mother to me and to my brother as we were saying goodbye to hers and Dad's home which they both loved and could not stay in due to medical struggles.  It was my mom saying to me one more time, "I love you Judith.  You are and always will be my daughter, no matter what."  And these words came to my heart from heaven, because she had died in July and this was September 19.

What a little unexpected gift from God to both my brother and I, that I should find this poem in such a timely way.

Well, just last weekend I had a similar gift....

You hear the saying, "Nothing ever happens the same way twice."  There is truth to that.  

However, my brother was not surprised as much by this as I was.  I was shaking my head in tears of thankfulness and a LOT of wonder this time.  

I found another poem....
....JUST like the one Mom had in her dresser.
It was on the same ivory stationery, same typewriter font, same everything.

She had typed up two of these poems.  (There may have been more.)

I found this one in my Dad's bureau drawer the day we moved his dresser into our house 3 weeks after he died.

My dad had had this poem in the ivory envelope in his top drawer for YEARS.... All tucked away.  It was probably there in our childhood home in Dilworth.  It was there at the condo.  It was there at the Carriage Club in Assisted Living and in Memory Care the last 3 years.  It had been there the whole time.  It was under some other items.

In the envelope with it were photos of my brother and I and an announcement in the Charlotte Observer about his mother and his mother in law making their visit to Hawaii to see he and Mom in 1954.  Mom and Dad were married in Hawaii the prior year and Dad was in the US Navy stationed at Pearl Harbor.

How could this ever be?

Again Lord?  Truly? The same little good-bye gift found in his matching dresser-bureau.  

Tom said, "Well, they did think an awful lot alike."  He is so right about that.

It's possible too that this poem was given to my Grandmother Elizabeth, (Dad's mom), by my mother.  Then she put photos she had been given by my dad and mom in the envelope along with the poem.

Grandmother Elizabeth, Tom and I  (and Dad's dresser in the background), the day I came home to live with my forever family.

It sounds completely like something my mother would have done and Grandmother would have done.   They were both sentimental especially with photos and words.  I just don't know for a fact that this is what happened with the poem.  What makes me also think of this possibility is due to one photo of my grandfather and Tom fishing on a pier at Lake Wylie, and then of course the 1954 newspaper blurb about she and my Mom's mother taking their first trans-Pacific flight to Hawaii.  

Either way, if it was given to Elizabeth from my mother or not, this poem with pictures had probably been in my dad's dresser a very long time, possibly since his Mom's passing which would have been 1974.  I know my dad loved this poem too.

So this little reminder of love is doubly appreciated and felt.  How both poems wound up in both of their dressers floors me....yet it doesn't.  God loves to surprise us with details about our loved ones.  I'm so glad I decided to look through Daddy's drawer this particular day.  

I open the drawer and it still smells like it always has since I was a little girl.  The dresser represents part of him, just like my mother's did.  Right now her grandson is using her dresser as his very own and taking very good care of it.   One day I will be able to let go of Daddy's bureau, but not just yet and I've told my brother it is just as he left it at the Carriage Club.  Anytime he wants to come over and remember a part of Dad, the bureau is here.  

Until then, I feel blessed....so very blessed once again for these fingerprints of love.

Our Alzheimer's Journey Has Ended

Our journey with Alzheimer's Disease has ended.  We finished it with love.  We finished it well through our many tears, our heartbreak, and our thankfulness and blessings all wrapped up into one.  Sometimes I can't believe I am still standing, but I am and my heart may be a bit rough around the edges in places, and that's ok.  My life has been changed forever through this journey with Dad.

My daddy passed away March 25, 2013 in the wee hours of that Monday morning.  In those moments he said "goodbye" to the world of Alzheimer's forever and said "hello" to his new everlasting life with Christ in heaven. 

It is kind of surreal to know the journey has ended.  It has been the most incredibly challenging, heart wrenching journey I have ever been on.   It is also the most rewarding, honorable path I've ever walked.... the highest calling God has asked of me in my adult life.  The calling of being a "daughter".  

"Daughter"....there is so much wrapped up in that word for me personally.  It has meant everything to me because my parents and their love have meant so much to me my entire life.  I have realized the calling of daughter was not for a faint heart.  It has required more of myself than being a wife or mother.  That may sound strange as those are huge callings as well and ones I take seriously, but being a daughter and walking beside my hero through thick and thin to the very end has taken me places no other experiences in life have.  There have been so many practical "new" things I have learned in life which I would not have experienced now without being in the role of "daughter, steward, representative and advocate".  There is no other place I would have wanted to be for the past few years.  No where except beside both of my parents.   I have never looked at my role as a chore....even when tasks seemed daunting and insurmountable.  We got through them together or with the help of family and dear friends.  

It has been an honor.
It has been a privilege.
It has been a joy....to walk hand in hand with my dad.... and my mother.  

The journey has taught me so much.  I've learned more about myself than I want to know I think at times.  I've learned I am extremely loyal and must be pretty patient.  I have learned my primary spiritual gift is not teaching.  It is encouragement and showing mercy to others.  I have found out what lengths I will go to protect and champion a frail and feeble parent.  I have found out I am stronger than I think I ever was, even though many times I felt like I was losing control of my life so many times on the inside.  

In short the disease has tested me to the core of my being.  It has crushed my spirit at times and made me feel true despair.  It has opened my eyes to the suffering of another human being who lived daily with the slow agonizing process of losing his mind and all that goes with that....  the paranoia, the anxiety, the fear, the shame and embarrassment of losing his memories, the confusion, the desperation, the loneliness....

Watching these struggles for 4 years has been unforgettable.  I think this journey has made a mark on me for life!  I am not the same person I was 4 years ago.  This entire experience has changed my life forever.   It truly has been a long goodbye.  There were huge and little losses along the way which we grieved hard.  Every single step down my dad took I grieved with all my heart and soul.  I have written about many of these step downs and one day I may publish these posts.  Our grief with dad was ongoing.  It never really stopped for very long.  Just when the plateaus would occur and things leveled out, we were still waiting for "the other shoe to drop".  We constantly seemed to be waiting for the next step down though we continually and selfishly hoped it would never ever come.  There was a constant sense of loss with him each year.  Things Dad could do in 2010 he couldn't do in 2011 and so on.  From 2011 on, my brother and I could see off in the distance the "train wreck" waiting to happen before it happened.  We had a lot of anticipatory grief of what Alzheimer's would do to our father eventually, how it would affect him physically and emotionally and everyone who loved him closely.  

One of the main things Alzheimer's has etched into my heart is love.  We loved in the moment.  We found and brought joy to Dad in the moments we were with him.  He would never remember our visits or that we were there sometimes after leaving him.  Love taught me it didn't matter that he forgot.  We spent our time with him and made him feel loved and valued while we were with him.  WE knew we were there and would remember we had been there, even if he didn't.  I know it has to be extremely excruciating for family members to continually visit their loved one when they are left with only a shadow of the person they once knew.  Some think it too unbearable or not worth their time due to their loved ones state of dementia, so they stop coming as frequently to see them.  I think if our circumstances had been different, and Dad had lost even more of himself, we would have been faced with similar questions.  "Do we keep physically loving with our presence, even if he doesn't know who we are or that we are even here?"  It is a place no one wants to be with their loved one..... but I think Tom and I would have continued to see our dad no matter what, because of one simple reason..... he was still OUR dad and we loved him.  That love we have always had, does not disappear even if our hearts are full of pain.

Of course there are always things to be thankful for along the journey.  I found my own mental state of mind and well being rested on finding the silver linings along the way.  Those pieces of the journey we could hold on to and smile, laugh, or be comforted by were so important to me.  A journey like Alzheimer's can leave you feeling like there is little or no hope.  I knew my dad was not going to be cured of this disease.  God showed me so many times along the way these little gifts in my daddy, which I cherish to this day.  Whenever Dad would light up with his smile at the sight of us, or when we showed him photographs of the family it was worth every single second of our time.  We lived for those smiles, his words of love, and if we could make his day in any form or fashion we certainly tried.  He most certainly made many of our days!  God truly was so good to us in allowing the most important parts of Dad's personality and core of who he was as a person to remain.  His love for his family.  His joyful spirit.  His gratitude of others and their service.   

My precious "Papa Bear" was an inspiration to many folks and to many who cared for him in those 20 months in the Memory Care building at the Carriage Club.  The very next day after his death, nursing aids told me they were already missing him.

They miss his smile.... his gratitude....and his joyful,  fun-loving spirit.

I miss everything about my daddy.  
Absolutely everything.

There has never been anyone who has loved me like he did....and there will never be anyone who will love me like that ever again.   

That is from where my heartbreak stems.  The relationship with my hero which I've had all this time is what I will miss so much.

I will miss the gentle reassurance in his words, his laugh, his strength that made me feel so safe, the whispered I love yous, the loving affirmation of being his daughter, his joking antics, his integrity, his joy and the love I always felt from him.  I will also miss our time together.

Dad was so brave....  so very brave though this journey.  He had an inner strength which shone through at times when the disease would allow it.  It was those glimpses of who he used to be that I hung on to with all my heart.  Those were like little messages from God saying to me, "Underneath this illness, your daddy is still the same man he has always been.  I did not forget your Dad and his memories are safe with me."  These peeks back into yesteryear were all such gifts to me.

I can also say that we were spared the agony of stage 7 of dementia.  The stage where your loved one loses his ability to talk, swallow well, walk,  feed himself, be continent and basically is at the mercy of someone else to do absolutely everything for him.  We have seen those in stage 7 in my mother's building before she died.  We saw them frequently in Dad's building as well.  Wheelchair bound unable to really move at all, unable to communicate or really smile.  Heartbreaking for the person with the illness and for the family.  Dad only had to go through stage 7 of Alzheimer's for 4 days.  That is all.... just 4 days.  He had elements of stage 6 and 7 from right after Christmas 2012 until the last week of his life when he had a mini stroke and literally "fell off the cliff of stage 7".  I was selfishly so grateful Dad never had to go through months or years of the last stage of dementia.

So many blessings at the end and throughout the journey.  One day I plan on writing more about specifics of the journey.  I do not want to forget where I have been.   Sometimes I wonder what in the world is next for me?  There is a huge void since the passing of my parents only 9  months apart.  Being their advocate, helper and caregiver has been a part of my every day life for the past 4 years.   Where do I go from here?  I don't know yet.  In time I believe I will figure that out.  I do think though my life will have to include helping others on their journey with Alzheimer's or aging parents because the Lord has taught me too much and blessed me too much to keep it all to myself.  I have such a love for the elderly.  My mom helped instill that in me as a child long ago.  I also now have an appreciation and love for those with dementia which I never had before.  Time will tell where my life goes next and where new doors will open.

We are most grateful for your prayers in our loss of our Dad~Joe and our Mom~Ethel.
I find joy in knowing my parents are together once again, but this time without all of their physical ailments and illnesses.  I know they are so happy to be with the Lord and each other!

We can feel your prayers and please know that God is faithful to walk with you on what ever journey you may be on. He walked with us in both of my parent's cases and trials of Type 1 diabetes, Non Hodgkins Lymphoma and Alzheimer's.... through every valley, hill, puddle, storm and mountain. He is faithful to see you through whatever trials you may be facing because of His great love for you! 

Great is His faithfulness!
Amen.

Love,
Judith

New Life

Everywhere I look lately are the signs of new life.....
....spring arrives officially in four days.

Flowers are appearing everywhere.  Many are my favorites.

Trees are awakening with buds and the most intricate blooms which just take my breath away when I look through the camera lens.

How could anything so tiny and full of detail be so delicate, graceful, and complex?

.....only the Lord could create such beauty.

"Don't forget about new life....." are words I hear.  I'm thinking about those words a lot lately.   There is new life all around me, but there is new life to come too in heaven.

My daddy has pneumonia.  It is a hard time for him right now, because Alzheimer's is a huge road block to his healing.  Yes, I'm thinking a lot about new life this week.  Sometimes I wonder if I should look at his disease a different way these days.  Instead of Alzheimer's winning as it continues to steal him away, maybe I should have a different perspective.... "heaven is winning...." and in the end whenever that may be, Daddy is walking closer to heaven every day.  He IS winning in the eyes of eternity because God is renewing the imperishable every day as the perishable continues to fade before him.  We are all walking toward eternal life either with or without our Lord.   Life continues day by day for us until we breathe our last breath here and step over the threshold from this life we know to the  next.  My daddy will be greeted on the other side of the horizon with "Welcome!"  I can just hear it now, "You're here!!!  I'm so happy!  Well done my good and faithful servant."

This hope does not take away my sadness watching my dad suffer from his illness and now added illness on top of what he daily battles.  It does not make his journey of Alzheimer's any easier or stop the continual losing of his mind.  It doesn't take his pneumonia or many other health challenges away,  but it HELPS me COPE better with life's situations that are not easy and COMPLETELY out of my control.

New life....

So thankful for new life all around me.....

If the Lord God cares so much about what He created in nature all around us, why would he not care even more for us?

The answer is.....
....He does.

Jesus told us not to worry.
"Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not more valuable than they?  Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?..... "Matthew 6:26

He loves us more than the birds, budding trees, and blooming flowers in all of their splendor.   He gave up His very life for us so we could have that new life He promises for all eternity.   John 3:16  just means even more when I look through my camera lens at my Bradford pear blossoms and the trees blooming in the special places I love and appreciate close to my home and my heart.

I remember the hope we have in Christ.
Easter is coming!
May Easter's hope bring a renewed joy to our lives!

Your Love Never Fails

Romans 8:38-39

"For I am convinced that neither life nor death,
neither angels nor demons,
nor the present nor the future,
nor any powers, nor height nor depth,
nor anything else in all creation,
will be able to separate us from the love of God, that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

(Photos by Judith Crovi)

I went to see my dad this afternoon.  Tom and I like to go see Dad on Sundays.  I picked some hyacinths and daffodils for Dad from my front yard to replace the last bunch I'd brought him a week ago.  I wanted to leave a hyacinth with my mom above her niche.  I had placed a daffodil there last weekend during special family time, when my aunts were at the columbarium.  I had brought a hyacinth then too, but lost it out of my purse some where between the sanctuary of the church and the columbarium.  So impulsively I decided to just stop by the columbarium on the way to dad's.  I decided once the car was parked at the church that I'd take more than one flower to the niche.
....two hyacinths one from me, one from Tom and a daffodil from Dad....one different from the one last week.

When I walked into the garden I started taking photos.  I didn't even walk right up the wall of the chapel right away.  I was looking at the tree buds....

And the angel fountain...

What I didn't expect was waiting for me..... I knew this day would come.  We'd been waiting for 7 and a half months.  The engraving of Mom's name on her and Dad's niche.

There is was, etched in stone.

I clasped my hand over my mouth and started to sob.

It was so beautifully done.

Yet to stand there and look at your parent's birth and death dates carved in stone, somehow feels surreal.  How can this be?  I feel like I just was with her.  I feel like I was just laughing with her and my sons.  We were playing UNO or scrabble or going over to see Dad and having some family time. Is she really gone?  It's been almost 8 months, yes of course she is not here.  I have accepted that.

Yet, today it felt real, like a piece of the very stone I was staring at had hit me all of a sudden.

Those letters etched in stone...

seem so incredibly more final than anything else these past eight months.

My mom is not here.  Yet the ashes of those loving arms and hands which literally brought me home from the adoption agency, have held me, hugged me, changed my diapers as a baby, drove me to school, signed my report cards, wrote in my birthday cards, made meals for our family, sewed and made so many of my clothes as a child, rocked my grandsons, and held their hands, loved my dad and served and honored him for almost 60 years and just made everything so beautiful are behind that stone rectangle.

I hear those words "Don't weep for me..... I'm not here."

Yet I still weep....

I miss my Mom.

She is not here.
Yet all I need do is look up....and the Lord meets me in this fresh grief once more.  Those letters carved in stone also mean something else....  she is with the one and true Lord who comforts all of us in our times of grief and mourning.

Mom is with her Lord and Savior.

Pastor Jeff gave us Scripture today at church related to death and eternal life.
"I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father's hand."
John 10:28-29

Mom's future is secure.

Isaiah 49:15-16 says, "See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands;...."

Mom is forever the Lord's and He her treasure.

This of course brings me great hope and I long for heaven more than I ever have in my life.  Once you lose some one so very close whom you know loved the Lord and lived a life of faith,  you feel like heaven is just not that far away from you.  It's closer than any of us could ever imagine.

I can't lose sight of the prize that is to come!

Mom would not want any of us to do that.

She would also want us to keep smiling and living for Him!  Life is too short here on this present earth to not share the love of Christ which He pours into us, with other people.

"Be happy!", she would say.
"Live your life!  Use your gifts!  Thank your Lord for it all!"

I think she would be ok with my weeping too though.

I know she would weep for Dad, for Tom, for her sisters and niece, for her grandsons, for Mike and myself.

This song was played on the radio, FOUR times on various radio stations for that matter, while I was driving to and from Dad's this afternoon.  Let's just say I can't get the song out of my head now.

Nothing can separate us from the love of God....

It is based on Romans 8:38-39, which I have at the top of this post.

"His love never fails, it never runs out, it never runs out on me..... " as the song goes.  It doesn't run out on any of us.
And it certainly did not run out for Mom when she died.  God's love goes on and on and on....

Seeing her name etched in stone is hard.  Yet I just look at the flowers above her name and I remember and I weep and I know she lives on..... and will see her again.

Mom's Orchid

I'm not sure what it is about flowers and our family, but it has happened again....

Comfort during a time of grief.... and yes it is another flower bringing comfort.  

This time it is comfort for my brother Tom and my mom's older sister Willie Mae....

It is not a sunflower this time either, which comforted me recently and is my favorite flower.

It is one of my mother's favorite flowers.... an orchid.

Mom and Dad in Hawaii in 1992

Mom's love of orchids came from newly wed years in Hawaii in the mid 1950's with Dad while he was in the Navy.

On my Mom's last birthday (her 82nd) her big sister gave her a beautiful white orchid.

Mom and Willie Mae on Mom's last birthday

We have all given Mom orchids over the years.  Jenny, Barbara, Willie Mae, Dad, myself.... They did better at the condo when Mom and Dad were living there. Mom did well keeping them pretty.  At the nursing home,  they were gorgeous for a time, but after they bloomed out, we always had trouble getting them to stay alive or to bloom again if the leaves remained.  There was something about her room there that was problematic.

The day Mom died, Tom took the last orchid Mom had left in her room home with him.  The stalk where the flowers had bloomed was all dried up and dead.  He put it in a window at his apartment and watered it during the summer and fall.  He's never had a green thumb he says with orchids.  Many other plants he's had tremendous success with.  The orchid however, has always been a botanical challenge.  He really didn't expect anything to happen with it.  There were still 3 green leaves left to the plant, but he really didn't think it would bloom again.  However, he had nothing to lose by putting it in the well lighted window either.

What we didn't realize until just about a week ago, was which orchid this one was.  By looking back at photos Tom and I realized that this one he took home that day was Mom's birthday orchid from Willie Mae!

Tom showed me his photo of the orchid in January.  It was the most precious sight!  I was so touched.  He was too.  What a neat surprise gift!  Thank you once again God for these little gifts which mean so much.  It has been a big comfort to my brother during this time.   It is like part of Mom is right there and her love is inside those little buds and blooms.  Hope is there.  Hope of new life.  Anticipation of beauty in those blooms to come.

I want to share these photos my brother took with you, so you can see how this all evolved.  It truly is a beautiful sight!

Willie Mae, these photos are for you.   We love you so much!  I know you will be as thrilled as we are!! Tom is enjoying your birthday gift you gave Mom.  Would Mom have wanted it any other way?  I don't think so...

December leaves 

and January buds

First bloom

My favorite.... Four blooms with our February snow in the background.

Tom says there are 5 blooms open today.

I'm going to go see it soon.

So thankful for these comforts when you miss someone so much.  Every time a bloom opens it's blessed reassurance.  It is Mom saying, "Hi Darlin', I love you!  I'm still here, I'm just in a different place!  I'm alive, you will see me again. I can't wait to see you too!   Just look to heaven and Christ, who made this beautiful orchid and there I am.  I promise we'll be together again one day.  Keep living your life with joy!  

God does care about our suffering and losses and He most definitely gives us a hope for a future- one which is alive, well, and beautiful in Him.

Sparking Our Imaginations During Lent

~First Sunday in Lent~

Oswald Chambers writes about our imaginations in My Utmost for His Highest.  He poses a valid question "Is our imagination stayed on God or is it starved?"

"Is your imagination stayed on God or is it starved?  The starvation of the imagination is one of the most fruitful sources of exhaustion and sapping in a worker's life.  If you have never used your imagination to put yourself before God, begin to do it now.  It is no use waiting for God to come; you must put your imagination away from the face of idols and look unto Him and be saved.  Imagination is the greatest gift God has given us and it ought to be devoted entirely to Him.  If you have been bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ, it will be one of the greatest assets to faith when the time of trial comes, because your faith and the Spirit of God will work together.  Learn to associate ideas worth of God with all that happens in Nature- the sunrises and the sunsets, the sun and the stars, the changing seasons, and your imagination will never be at the mercy of your impulses, but will always be at the service of God."

(Taken from My Utmost for His Highest  February 11 entry Copyright 1935 Dodd Mead & Company)

Nature is such a gift to us.  

This lenten season our family personally needs to feed our imaginations.  We're turning off the technology more frequently which competes for our attention.  Then taking that time to get outside even more than we normally do.  

We just had our first snowfall of the year.  Our youngest son, Philip has been praying for snow since January.  My little meteorologist has been tracking the weather with each storm that comes hoping winter rains will turn into snow.  

Yesterday it finally did and his words to me were, 
"Jesus brought the snow I prayed for!"  

There were so many smiles yesterday and today.

It wasn't enough to just watch snow falling, though I think our son would have been happy if that were his only option. 

When the flakes started appearing there was exuberant excitement and hurried questions of "Can I go outside now??"  He wanted to be in the middle of it, experiencing the flakes as they fell on his coat, his hands, his face.

Yesterday and today he was covered in snow!

Why does snow spark our God given gift of imagination? 
Is it because each and every snowflake that falls is different from the next one which touches the ground?

How could anyone but God do that?  

Is it the way it sits on tree branches...

as I photograph things close up...

Maybe it is just the wonderment and beauty of it all and knowing God created it to show us some of Himself.

Writer, George McDonald said it well, "If it were not for the outside world, we should have no inside world to understand things by.  Least of all could we understand God without these millions of sights and sounds and scents and motions weaving their endless harmonies.  They come out from His heart to let us know a little of what is in it."

Paul tells us in Romans 1:20 "For since the creation of the world, God's invisible qualities-his eternal power and divine nature-have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse."

God's ever loving presence in our lives... it surrounds us daily when we open our eyes to it.  Sharing in the faith of my 8 year old son also helps me have a renewed appreciation for that very presence.  Seeing the excitement of our first (yet small) Carolina snow this winter, in Philip's eyes, in his smile, and on his lips.  

This week of Lent, may our hearts be more steadfast on Him, feeding our imaginations through what He has created and being thankful for both of those gifts and for Him.