I Watched His Profile
As he walked so big and tall
No hand to hold, like when he was small
He’s proud and confident, strong and secure
With each step, his walk is sure
I Watched His Profile
Curious, inquisitive and full of wonder
I longed to hold him, like when he was younger
My little baby is a baby no more
They grow up so fast. For me, he holds the door.
I Watched His Profile
This should get easier, when you say goodbye
Sports events, camps, what’s that tear in my eye?
He no longer lingers, so ready to go
I’ve done well, I know it. I just miss him so…
I Watched His Profile
I can’t imagine losing a child. At any age. My eyes begin to well up with tears at the thought. It’s so unnatural. It’s just not the way it should be.
How do you say goodbye …
to the early years, bathing and feeding, tickling and hugging, kissing and holding.
the elementary years, of discovery and wonder, where everything is new and exciting
the teen years, of growth and development, of patience (or trying of patience for you)
the adult years, of friendship and laughter, of memories and bonds. Of caring and commitment.
My heart hurts for Vice President Biden, and the scores of other parents who have had to do it. You are truly in my thoughts and prayers.
How do you say goodbye to your baby? I don’t know …
It was subtle, I’ll admit. I called it other things … anger, frustration, staying informed, being aware, and just plain out wanting to know what’s going on. That’s what I could see. But what I didn’t realize was happening, taking root like a weed inside me, was a pervasive feeling of fear.
Like many of you, I’ve watched the painful coverage of the shootings then lack of indictments in the cases of Mike Brown and Eric Garner, as well as watched George Zimmerman walk after shooting Trayvon Martin. I prayed. I hurt. I cried. And I hugged my babies tighter. Inwardly, I resolved to do all I could to fight the feeling of powerlessness attempting to plague me. Though my boys are young, I slipped in nuggets of wisdom regarding dealing with police and presenting yourself in public. Things no parent of color wants to say. Yet things that must be communicated to our children.
I realized how deeply I’d been affected when I discovered a couple of pricing tags my son had from the store. To him, they were nothing more than something to play with – pricing tags that had fallen to the ground, not attached to any merchandise. They were like the coupons he gets from the machines for me. To me, it screamed unfair and unsavory accusations of theft, accusations and potential punishments. And in essence, I lost it. Instead of giving him a good, thorough understanding of why these items have to remain in the store (he’s only 7), I started talking about stealing, and how people won’t see it as an innocent mistake, and how you can be punished and taken away from us. I came close to crying. He did cry. I wasn’t trying to scare him. I was scared.
Scared of losing him. Scared of him being misunderstood. Scared that such an innocent mistake would be viewed that way were the child white; but for my son, surely someone would try to label him. Or worse. My son is an exemplary child. He’s smart, kind, loving, giving, and knows right from wrong. He was picking up a pricing tag off the floor, he reasoned, not merchandise you have to pay for. And while it still merited discussion, it didn’t deserve my tirade of sorts. I couldn’t believe fear of how I thought others would react to what my son had done, purely because of his beautiful brown skin, made me act.
My husband talked me through it. I went back to my son. I apologized, hugged him, and told him I loved him. I explained things the right way. And while I can’t pretend these feelings will immediately disappear, I’ll continue to pray – and focus on faith – instead of fear.
I initially just sat, in stunned shock. Maybe it’s one of those internet hoaxes, I hoped, devouring every article I could read on the subject. But it wasn’t. My heart broke. Dr. Myles Munroe is gone.
It wasn’t just that he was a great spiritual leader. He was. It wasn’t just that he was a best-selling author, and world-renowned. Again, he was. But the profound depth of sadness that I feel, along with countless others, is the impact of this man.
Impact. The impact to show God’s love and compassion to a hurting world. Impact. The impact to help me stretch beyond the limits of what I thought was possible … to believe in me because of the limitless God within me. Impact. The impact to change the thinking and mindset of a generation … to help us see the Lord Jesus Christ is indeed an Almighty, Awesome God! Impact.
That is the word I choose now to describe Dr. Munroe, and his wife, Ruth, whose imprint was surely a part of his ministry.
Thank you, Dr. and Mrs. Munroe, for your obedience to God, and your impact.
He didn’t invent the chicken … just the chicken sandwich. I am so saddened to hear of the passing of Truett Cathy. Our family loves Chick Fil A and Truett’s Pizza Cafe. The food is delicious; however, it’s much more than the food that keeps us going back. It’s the true legacy left by Mr. Cathy.
As a reflect on the reasons why his establishments prospered, they extend far beyond good quality food and a great deal. As indicated by the photo above, Mr. Cathy’s priorities were in order. And because he knew the intrinsic value of focusing on the things that truly matter, he was able to make a difference in our lives and the lives of others. Here are a few of the things I take from his life … and his legacy.
1. Putting God first. His restaurants are not open on Sundays, yet they are highly profitable. Mr. Cathy chose to put his convictions and desire to honor God before money. We can all learn a lesson from this. God and family are more important than profits.
2. Service. Whenever we visit one of his restaurants, we are greeted warmly. Every service requested brings forth a response of “my pleasure.” There is not enough space to speak about the help rendered to my family and I above and beyond the call of duty. I could mention the time that my son held a fundraiser to benefit foster children, and Truett’s Pizza Cafe opened their doors and hearts to help. Or I could talk about requesting assistance from Chick Fil A for another event and being given an enormous amount of gifts and meal cards to pass out to others. A lot of commercial “service” now is focused on the bottom line, making a dollar and getting the product in as many hands as possible. His bottom line was serving people.
3. Quality. As a mom I am very careful about what I let my children eat. We don’t eat out a lot. However, when we do, it is at a Truett Cathy establishment. The quality of the food, and the taste, speak for themselves. It is possible to provide a quality product that benefits others … and you still profit.
My prayers are with the Cathy family members as well as his extended restaurant family. Thank you, Mr. Cathy, for your vision and for showing Chick Fil A was about more than just a wing and a prayer.
Brilliance. Robin Williams exhibited that rare combination of brilliance; an actor who could have you roaring with laughter in one film, then moved and touched beyond comprehension in another. One of my favorite films of all time, and my favorite with him, is Dead Poet’s Society (though Mrs. Doubtfire is a close second). The film, the acting, the cast, were all phenomenal. And Robin Williams was the dramatic glue that held it all together. I’d be remiss, of course, if I didn’t mention some of his other incredible works … Hook, Good Will Hunting, Aladdin, and the list goes on and on.
While his works were incredible and tributes are moving, right now more of us are sadly overcome with the news of his death. Anytime a movie or television star dies, if the actor is from a show or movie we loved, we feel like we’ve lost a member of the extended family. We remember the last time we watched the person on screen; we recall the last time they made us laugh or cry, just like recalling the last time we saw a family member who passed. Such is the case with icon Robin Williams.
But I suspect for many of you, like me, that the pain of his death extends beyond this. It’s not just that he’s gone … but the way that it happened. A vibrant life, snuffed out, before its time. A life … that provided joy and laughter for so many … yet ironically was plagued with sadness and loneliness at the end. A life … spent helping others understand written words and bringing them to life … that in the end didn’t feel as though he could be understood.
And I think that’s what hurts the most. Depression is real. It’s heavy. And it can be heartbreaking. If you’re in a sadness “you can’t get out of”, or it’s been going on for far too long, please talk to someone. Get help. As we see, you are not alone.
Rest in peace, captain.
A few weeks old, you filled me with joy.
Fun guesses … will you be a girl or a boy.
Excitement, giddy with thoughts of you.
A blessing for us, full of life anew.
An answer to prayer, cause to celebrate,
Time to prepare, for this wonder so great.
Yet the moment was fleeting, happiness so real.
The sudden turn left feelings … unexpected to feel.
I knew you, I felt you, you were mine from day one.
It doesn’t seem fair. Life hadn’t even begun.
As I fight the tears, through gripping pain,
Some days I can’t move, others I sustain.
My heart is broken, only God can heal.
Thank Him for His presence; I know He is real.
This too shall pass … though hurt I won’t deny.
As I say to my precious little one gone too soon … Goodbye.
I was not having a good day. I’d had several unexpected, painful things thrown at me all at once, and this particular day, I wasn’t holding up very well. However, laundry still had to be washed and groceries still had to be purchased. My husband, ever mindful of making sure I’m not overloaded, asked me if I was sure I wanted to take the kids to the store. Although the boys were pretty rowdy and arguing back and forth, they assured me their behavior would be stellar at the store. They begged to go with me. I let them. And I’m so glad I did.
Kids have these amazing superpowers. They’re born with them, I guess. After behaving their worst and being the most uncooperative, the powers come shining through. I think God made them cute just for moments like this, lol. Having the boys give me smiles in the store, laugh at the most absurd things, even eating a free “kids cookie”, all brought smiles to my face. It was in those fleeting moments of joy and the ability to forget the unpleasantness, that I focused on the joy those little people bring to my life.
In honor of their good behavior at the store (praise the Lord), I’ve come up with a few great benefits to having kids:
– They make you laugh. Priceless. A merry heart really does do good like a medicine.
– They make you a better person. When you realize there are a precious pair of eyes watching – then emulating – your every move, it makes you more cognizant of your actions and words.
– They give you clarity on what’s important. It’s so much easier to make priorities with them – because they are the priority.
– They help you not to be wasteful or selfish. Again, the kids are the priority. Need I say more?
– They give you hope for the future. When you see their brilliance, their optimism, their complete innocence and wonder, it makes you so hopeful about what they can do – and even what you can do.
I can’t say exactly when it happened. Sometime in the past seven years, I suppose. But I didn’t notice it until a few days ago. My oldest son accompanied me to the airport to drop off my mother after her visit. She uses a wheelchair, and we had luggage. I really thought he may kind of be in the way, but knew how much it meant to him to see Nana off, so I let him come. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
He was a gem … a true blessing. He helped pull the luggage, held doors, picked up things we dropped (I yelled at him to hurry not realizing what he was doing, and he didn’t complain). He walked expeditiously, took the security/shoes off inconveniences like a trooper, and remained stoic until Grandma’s last goodbye. I caught myself taking glimpses of him during that time. I marveled at his determination to assist, and help get us where we needed to go. His walk, though still childlike and carefree, had a step of determination and purpose. I became a bit overwhelmed, at the awesomeness of this young being God blessed me to raise.
My baby, my little boy, my first born is growing up … right before my eyes.