Character...

This Thanksgiving while gathered around my parent's dining room table, our group of 20 held hands and spoke one-by-one about what each of us is thankful for. There were so many wonderful, heart-felt blessings shared. Every year I am amazed by how thoughtful each contribution is. I believe we spent about 45 minutes making it around the table.

While 45 minutes may seem a long time to talk about what we're thankful for, truly it is a short amount of time in the grand scheme of the blessings that we have been given. I suppose we could have spent the better part of the holiday weekend expressing our thanksgiving. This tradition of sharing is a beloved one to me, and I am prayerful that I will remember to daily give thanks for all of my blessings.

This year, as the circle rounded to me, I shared my thanksgiving with the table. Of course, I am thankful for my dear husband, my precious children, my sweet parents and brothers and my extended family... sometimes those are considered "givens", but I never want to leave out the special people in my life... none of us does. Family is a treasure to be thankful for, especially the tie that binds us all -- Jesus Christ.

So, having talked about my love and appreciation for my family, I had already decided that there was one attribute that I wanted to expound upon --character. Don had mentioned character in his thanksgiving right before me, which actually solidified my decision.

This calendar year the blessing of character has been overwhelming, especially where my children are concerned. My oldest, Baker, is continually commended for his politeness, positive attitude, smile, good sportsmanship and love for Christ. Of course, I am not always privy to the compliments; however, this year in particular, Don and I have repeatedly been made aware of Baker's character -- through emails from coaches and friends and in person from the same, some even strangers.

As a mother, a parent, I cannot think of a greater blessing than to have my children praised for their character -- especially when I know it is not of me but of my heavenly Father. While I have never considered that "character" would be something I would be extraordinarily thankful for, I don't know that I could have known its complete significance until it my attention was drawn to it by those that I barely know... so compelling is the gift of character, that even strangers took the time to point it out to me.

Of course, I am proud of all of my children, and each one of them receives compliments in regard to character. I pointed Baker out in particular because of his role as the eldest child. Don and I have reminded Baker that he is laying a foundation for his siblings... he is carving a path and a reputation for the Donahue name. I am so blessed by how he has "stepped up" to this calling because of his character.

We have praised Brennan, Cara and Eliza for continuing in the path of character. I believe that character connotes trust and builds relationship and thus provides endless opportunities for us to shine like bright stars in the universe. God has called us to be men and women of character.

There was and never will be anyone who exhibits the gift and quality of character like our Savior, Jesus Christ. His example is perfect. For us to follow in His path is great indeed. Graciously, when we stray from the path, His loving arms beckon us back into His love and onto the narrow road... laden with character, strength, honor, love, forgiveness, gentleness, grace, joy and all that is considered right and good in His eyes.

Go in peace to love and serve the Lord... with character.

It's Not Just Turkey Talk...

We celebrate Thanksgiving at my parent's house every year. Thanksgiving is Mom's favorite holiday but not just because of the food or they myriad of dessert choices :>) The food is important, though, because many of the dishes represent those who have passed on before us. 

Thanksgiving at my mom's table, is, first and foremost, a time for reflecting and for giving thanks for our blessings. Every year, we stand holding hands in a circle around the dining room table. From person-to-person, each of us shares something that he or she is thankful for. Tears of joy and gratitude are shared, hearts are open and love fills the room to a palpable level. While sharing can make our invited guests a bit nervous :>), inevitably, blessing occurs for everyone present. The children even participate and are often the ones who shed tears because of their tender, vulnerable hearts.

We end our time of sharing with a reflection and scripture from Mom while Dad closes us in a prayer of thanks.

This Thanksgiving, I want to share with each of you how thankful I am for how you have touched my life in one way or another. While I won't be able to look each of you in the eye around the Thanksgiving table, I do want to personally thank you for the gift that each of you is to me -- whether you're a friend, relative, stranger, blog follower.

God called us all together for a reason. Each of you is uniquely and divinely made; called according to His purposes in Christ Jesus, bought with a price and branded with His love, which does not change like the shifting shadows or the changing seasons. No matter our condition, God's promise is Love without condition.

I pray that each one of you will take time this Thanksgiving to recount your blessings, to spend time in Sabbath and rest, to mend broken relationships, to get lost or to be found, to pay attention, to wake up to God, to be comfortable in your skin, to walk on the Earth, to encounter others, to live with purpose and to be grateful for a Love that will NOT let you go.

Life is about more than turkey... even tho the turkey is really yummy!

What do you do?

A few months ago, I guess it could have been a year now, anyway... a while back,  Cara asked me to fill out a  parent/daughter questionnaire. It was in the vein of "how much do you know about me."

The questionnaire came compliments of the American Girl Magazine -- great magazine, by the way. Cara loves interaction, activities, anything that promotes togetherness. She's very bright, creative and fun to be with.

At any rate, Cara had this "get to know you" questionnaire, and one night before bed, she asked me if we could do it together. So, I climbed up onto Cara's bed, and she handed me my form while she held hers.

The point was to fill in the blanks about the other person in order to discover how much you really knew about her. Some of the questions were: What is your daughter/parent's dream destination? What is your daughter/parent's favorite color?  Who is your daughter/parent's hero? What does your daughter want to be when she grows up?, and the corresponding question to "what does your daughter want to be when she grows up" was on Cara's form, and read, "What is your parent's occupation?"

I glanced over the questions, and Cara and I lay on her bed with pens in hand, surveys ready. When we finished answering the questions, we went back and forth telling each other what we had written down for the other. Cara knew that my dream destination is Hawaii. I knew that Cara's dream destination is New York. We both did a pretty good job getting our answers right. We know each other pretty well :>) We also learned a little about each other too.

That said, in regard to the question: "What is your parent's occupation?" Cara wrote the word "nothing"! WHAT!!? NOTHING?! For a second, I was speechless, a little hurt and definitely feeling under appreciated. I decided, though, to use this as a "teachable moment."

I explained to Cara that my occupation is a mother. Being a mother is a job, and it's very important. Cara replied, "Mom, that's not a real job!" Oh, boy. My blood started to boil, and I'm sure my face was beat red with anger and confusion (how could she not know that "mom" is a job). Instead of getting angry, though, I decided that I must not be doing a very good job at my job... at least not in communicating the significance of mom.

So, Cara sat and listened while I explained the importance and significance of being a mom. I told Cara, "Honey, being a mom is a full-time job. It's not a job you get money for, but it's a job that continues for 24 hours a day and 7 days a week -- forever. Once a mom... always a mom." I described the hats that I wear to Cara. I'm a cook, a housekeeper, a taxi driver, a listener, a doctor (of sorts), a dog trainer, a lunch maker, a gardener, a decorator, a laundress (on occasion, as Don really does the wash), a mender of the broken-hearted, a travel agent, a buyer (clothes, groceries, etc.), an activity planner... I could go on and on. It didn't take long for Cara to get the point.

While I know that Cara's intentions weren't to slight me and my position as a mom, I did want her to understand the undeniable significance of being a mother, the value in staying home to raise the kids. My salary is not monetary. My benefits are not $10 co-pays.

As a mom I earn a "salary" in terms of my children's welfare and well being, how each adjusts in society and how each treats others, and ultimately what kind of men/women each turns out to be (at least to some extent). As a mom, it is my job to raise my children into adulthood, and I want to do it with intentionality, compassion, love, patience, gentleness, kindness, honor, goodness, respect, all the while teaching each one life lessons and and how to learn from our mistakes, hardships, and even heartaches. What job could be more important? What job could have more significance and influence in our society? There is no comparison.

My benefits as a mom include hugs and kisses, the "I love you's" at 18 months, 8, 18, 28 and beyond. They also include precious time together -- walks, talks, and, yes, even surveys and questionnaires! The benefits go way beyond even my ability to imagine them. The benefits are endless and incomparable.

I told Cara that my dream job as a little girl was to be a mom. Many women have careers in addition to their careers as moms; however, I'm only talking about me here. "So," I told Cara, "I'm living my dream." I'm blessed beyond measure, beyond understanding, beyond belief. Truly my cup runneth over when all things good and bad are considered.

As moms, we take the good with the bad, the beautiful with the ugly, the impossible with the possible. The profession of mom is no less valuable than the profession of doctor, lawyer, merchant, chief, :>)etc. The job of mom is a lifetime of commitment and, for me, a dream come true.

Cara and I chatted a little more, finished revealing our survey results and hugged each other while I tucked her in bed (benefits!) Before I left, though, Cara said, "Mom, I was going to put FaceBook as your job." WHAT?!

That's a whole 'nother story...

Sing Jesus

When Baker was 2, we lived with my parents. I was pregnant with the twins, and we were in the process of building a new house. It's a blessing that my parents live so close and are so involved in the lives of our children. Living with Mom and Dad at the time was like a cool drink of water, especially after the twins were born. I needed the help more than I could have imagined.

During these 3 months, Mom often put Baker to bed. He slept in what was my brother, Christian's room, and is now my dad's office. In the room was an antique brass bed with plaid and denim bedding. The bed was positioned between two windows both dressed with brown wooden cafe shutters. In the middle of the room was an area rug that warmed up the honey colored wide-planked floor.

Baker loved his room. It was his own. Next to Baker's bed was a wooden rocking chair. The chair belonged to my grandmother. This rocking chair "personified" the idea of a rocking chair with its wooden spindles, hard wooden seat and creaky rockers.

In Baker's two short years, I had sung to him almost every night. My favorite songs to sing were hymns and songs that I learned at church and in Sunday school. For some reason, in those evening hours while holding my baby, the songs would flood to my mind, and I would sing and sing... actually, taking joy in the remembering. Songs like "Blessed be the Tie that Binds", "A Fountain Free", "There is a Balm in Gilead", "Amazing Grace", "This is My Father's World" and "When We all Get to Heaven" would be some that came and went in my evening musical montage.

One song, however, that became a mainstay was the simple, "Jesus Loves Me This I Know." The lyrics go like this:

Jesus loves me! this I know,
For the Bible tells me so.
Little ones to Him belong;
they are weak but He is strong.

Yes, Jesus loves me!
Yes, Jesus loves me!
Yes, Jesus loves me!
The Bible tells me so.

Baker absolutely loved this song. If I forgot to sing it, Baker was sure to remind me.

One stormy night, the rain was hitting the windows on either side of Baker's bed, and there was thunder and lightening that woke Baker up. He was afraid and began calling for me. I didn't hear him. I'm sure I was in a pregnancy-induced coma. Mom did hear Baker, however, and she went into his room to comfort him.

Mom picked Baker up out of his bed and slipped into the wooden rocking chair. As Mom began to rock, Baker said, "Nana, sing Jesus. Sing Jesus, Nana." Baker wanted her to sing "Jesus Loves Me"... a hint of the familiar and a reminder of the comfort that the name of Jesus brings.

I loved hearing Mom recount that story. Such a simple song, such simple lyrics -- simple yet loaded. Don't we all need someone in our lives who "sings Jesus" over us? Don't we all need to be reminded of how much Jesus loves us? In those words, we find rest and comfort.

Jesus' love is unconditional. Jesus is Love. Jesus Loves Me. The Bible tells me so.

Go "sing Jesus" over someone today...

Where I am...

In the summer of 2008 when gas prices had risen to unconscionable heights, I decided that we should go more places on foot. There are only a handful of places near our home that we can walk to and from without completely wearing ourselves out.

There is a grocery store, a drug store, a couple of restaurants, a dry cleaning service, etc. all within easy walking distance. That summer, though, I had enrolled the kids in a Vacation Bible School about 2 miles from our home.

While I wasn't expecting to save much gas by walking to a VBS only 2 miles away, I did decide that it was a good opportunity to teach a principle to the kids. So, we began our walk to the church... mama bird with 4 kids in tow.

It was only June, so the summer had not reached sweltering temperatures yet, and our walk was fairly nice. After having walked a mile, the church was in sight.

Brennan decided that he wanted to run the rest of the way. He was ready to get there I suppose.

Anyway, before he started running, he looked at me and said, "Mom, you know how I can run that far?"
I answered, "How, Brennan?" Brennan said, "Instead of looking ahead at how far I have to go, I keep my eyes focused on where I am and remember how far I've already come." Then he took off!

HELLO?! Well, his words floored me. While I know he was talking literal, the application of those words to the abstract and life, was undeniable. There are few spoken words that move me. Brennan's words that morning really sunk in.

Ironically, I thought that I was taking the kids on a walk to teach them a little about being green and conserving energy. Instead, my kid was taking ME on a walk to teach ME a lot about life and focus.

Often, I find myself wondering about the future, not necessarily worrying, but wondering just the same. That's a lot of energy to spend on what has yet to happen (or not happen). Living in the moment... the moment that God has given me... is really where He wants me to remain.

Nothing is in my control, really. God is the Author and Perfecter of our faith, the Beginning and the End, the Alpha and the Omega. He is the Now and the Not Yet, the Seen and the Unseen. God has designed a future for each one of us, and with that future, He has promised us a purpose. He has promised not to harm us, and He has promised to lead us.

With the leading, there must be following. Where am I? Am I trying to lead rather than staying focused on where God has me right this very minute? He wants me where I am today, not where I hope to be tomorrow.

If He has me today, in this moment, then He has all of me. I think I'll stay where I am until He says move.

Sunset

 

One of my favorite things about my home is our view. We live on a westward facing hill with magnificent views of the sunset. I never get tired of watching the sun sink behind the hilltops.

The colors range from muted lavenders to brilliant orange and red. Sometimes the warmth of the colors is so intense that you can not only see the glow, but you can feel the glow inside the house.

The whole house seems to change, light up and take on an almost ethereal feeling.

The children have come to love the sunset as well. Often times, I will hear one of them squeal, come see the sun! I've also had the kids run to get me before I missed the light show.

It's hard for me to not think of the book Prince of Tides when I see the sunset. The children in the story are sitting on the end of the dock with their mom watching the sunset into the water. As the sun disappears into the sea, one of the children exclaims, "Do it again, Mommy. Do it again."

There are many a day when I want to say to the Father, "Do it again, Daddy. Do it again." The sunset from my porch is a constant reminder of God's warmth... His strong arms wrapped around my frail body and soul... radiant, intense, unmistakably the work of the Master's hands.

Several years ago, my house was glowing one evening. The kids, Don and I were all sitting down to dinner when the phone rang.

When I answered the phone, it was my friend, Tammy. Tammy lives several miles away on a hill that faces East and looks right toward my house. Although, our houses were just small dots in the distance, they were, nonetheless, recognizable.

At any rate, Tammy called and said, "What's it like? The sunset... it must be incredible. Your house is glowing." It was incredible that night... so incredible that my friend was moved to call to hear about the beauty. She could see the evidence but not the source.

We walk in a world where sometimes the evidence is all we have. We need others to share their joy and love with us as reminders that our Source is Jesus. The evidence of His hand is everywhere. Sometimes we just have to open our eyes.

I am blessed that God gives me a daily reminder of His presence. I see Him in the sunset. I feel Him. I know He is standing next to me putting on an amazing light show... in that moment, just for me.

"Do it again, Daddy! Do it again."

When I Grow Up, I want to be just like her...

A few evenings back, Cara and I were in my bathroom, and I was straightening her hair for school the next day. While were together having a true mother/daughter experience, Cara began asking me questions.

Cara is very inquisitive and smart. She's always interested in more information than the basic "yes" or "no" answer.

So, as we were getting her all primped, she asked me, "Mom, who's your mentor?"

Cara is 11. Her thoughts run deep, and her questions are often challenging; however, it was not hard for me to answer this particular question.

My response to Cara was, "Nana is my mentor." Hands down... there is no doubt, no need to think about the answer to that question...

Cara's follow-up was "Why is she your mentor?" I went on to explain:

My mom loves Jesus. She is forgiving, loving, patient and kind -- to everyone. Mom is gentle, not easily provoked to anger and is filled to overflowing with her love for her family.

God blessed me with such a mom as this... My mom is now not only my mom, but she is my friend. She is a woman that people of all shapes, sizes, hearts, colors, races, ages, etc. are drawn to. Her friendship is infectious and undemanding. She holds no grudges. Her desire is to serve the Lord with gladness.

In doing so, Mom, is a magnet. People are drawn to her without even knowing why sometimes.

Several years ago in a small group Bible study, we were challenged to bring a friend to the table of communion. Mom and I were in the same group with 6 or 8 other women.

Naturally, when the challenge was posed, I knew that I would choose my mom; however, when the other women also chose Mom, I was, at first, jealous.

Quickly, though, I saw tangible evidence of how other women see her -- young, middle-aged, older, etc... her love for others transcends all.

Mom, in turn, took us all to the table of communion. We circled around and blessed one another.

I do believe that it was in that very moment that I became overwhelmed by my love for her. I was so proud and humbled to be her daughter.

I can only pray that my own daughters will see even a glimpse of my mom in me. She is truly my mentor, my friend and MY mom!

When I grow up, I want to be just like her!