Godspeed. Sweet Dreams.

I had the privilege of photographing one of the most beautiful weddings I have seen this past weekend. Everything about the day had been meticulously thought out; from the smallest details to the biggest, each in its own perfection. I love being a part of that most monumental day in people’s lives, because it is so easy to get caught up in the roller coaster emotion that accompanies it; the joys of new beginnings and the sorrow of certain change. As a future mother of the groom, God willing, I am always a little choked-up during the mother/son dance at the reception. I am intrigued at the choice of song by each groom and left wondering about the story behind it. However, this groom and his choice of song took the cake, so to speak, and left me slightly misty eyed. Maybe you have heard the ballad made famous by the Dixie Chicks titled, “Godspeed (Sweet Dreams)”. I had not. The lyrics sing like this:

“Dragon tales and the "water is wide", pirate's sail and lost boys fly. Fish bite moonbeams every night, and I love you. Godspeed, little man. Sweet dreams, little man. Oh my love will fly to you each night on angel’s wings. Godspeed. Sweet dreams. The rocket racer's all tuckered out. Superman's in pajamas on the couch. Goodnight moon, we'll find the mouse, and I love you. God bless mommy and match box cars. God bless dad and thanks for the stars. God hears "Amen," wherever you are, and I love you. Godspeed, little man. Sweet dreams, little man. Oh my love will fly to you each night on angels wings. Godspeed. Sweet dreams.”

Before I became a mother I always pictured myself having daughters. I thought about how I would buy all the pink adorable clothes their closets would hold. I thought about how one day they would grow up and I could teach them about boys, basketball, hair and make-up. I saw myself planning big elaborate weddings and picking out the perfect dress. I really never imagined God would give me boys. In general, I am an impatient person. I don't like to have to wait for anything. It is a personality flaw that our fast-paced society feeds to. So, when I knew I was going to have a baby, there was never a question as to whether I would wait to find out the sex. I knew from the start that as soon as the ultra-sound technician knew, I wanted to know. I remember lying on the table in anticipation of the words, "It's a girl!”. Of course, they never came. Instead I had to begin to think in blue. I grew up with a younger brother, so I knew about little boys. I knew that they love to get dirty and hunt and fish and do all sorts of other "guy-like" things. I knew they were wonderful in their own way. For instance, my brother was the funniest person I knew growing up, and he would have protected me and stood up for me no matter what. But, until God gave me boys, I always thought I wanted girls.

As I snapped the shutter again and again, capturing the moment of the dance, and the words of the song resonated through the reception hall; I was reminded that even though I thought I wanted to be the mother of girls, God had blessed me abundantly with my boys. I pictured myself not buying the dress, but instead dancing hand in hand with the men my boys will become. I thought about how the time between the bedtime rituals and last dance nuptials will come and go all too soon. While I used to fear muddy shoes, empty butter dishes filled with insects, Peter Pan swords, and hunting obsessions, I realized that all too soon I will trade them for varsity squads, college dorm rooms, career choices and a groom’s tuxedo. I suddenly had a deep need to be home tucking in those little men while they are still little; wishing them Godspeed and sweet dreams.

Cardboard Testimonies

I have been touched this week. I am not speaking about physically touched, but rather emotionally touched to my very core. The culprit; cardboard testimonies. If you don’t know what cardboard testimonies are, you should stop reading this, log onto YouTube, and watch as many as you can find. There simply are no words efficient enough to describe them to you. They truly are something you must see for yourself. However, for those of you who do not have instant internet access, I will do my best to fill you in. The concept is simple. On one side a weakness, struggle, or obstacle in your life is spelled out in basic black marker. On the other side how God has changed you or your situation. There are no spoken words, just a simply stated statement with a moving dynamic point. The point; God is still changing lives.

Here are some examples. On the front: Addicted to Heroin for thirty years. On the back: Saved, free and clean. Front: Not able to have children for five year. Back: Our son is two years old. Front: Scheduled an abortion 10 years ago. Back: Celebrating 10 years with our daughter. Front: Was sexually abused and had no hope for the future. Back: Found hope in Jesus! Now lead a group for sexually abused women. Front: Special needs child. Down syndrome plus hearing and vision problems. Back: Secure in God’s perfect plan. Reflecting God’s joy and kindness. Front: Battling stage three cancer. Back: Joy knowing that nothing can separate me from the love of God. Front: Looking for work, can’t make ends meet. Back: Trusting God and His perfect timing.

There are many, many more stories, one just as touching as the next. Some so touching they instantly bring you to tears, while others just make you smile. I hesitantly admit that I simply don’t live my life in such a way that I constantly see the good God has given me in the midst of my struggle. I try, but as hard as I try it too often seems that the weight of the hardship blocks the beauty or peace God is providing. For example, a good friend of mine is lying in a hospital bed with more broken bones than one could count. His recovery will be long and his end result uncertain. It would be easy to stay focused on the unfortunate circumstances of his accident instead of looking to find the plan God has. However, as I watched the cardboard testimonies I couldn’t help but wonder what his will be. How will God change his current circumstances? Will it be a testimony of healing against all odds, or peace beyond all understanding? I know that which ever it is there will be one and I pray that in time he will be able to see it and share it with others.

The testimonies also made me think a lot about what my own cardboard testimony would be. Honestly, I would have several because God has been present in all of my hard times and tough situations. The outcome has not always been what I would have chosen, but if I stop and look back on those situations I can see how God has brought me through them with a new understanding of His love. I would venture to guess that each of you would have several of your own. I often wish this column was interactive. I always feel that I miss out by not being able to hear or see your responses. Still, if I could share one with you, it would be this: front: Felt inadequate to share God’s love. Back: Realized it’s not about what I do, but what He has already done. Writing a weekly column called Faith and Family.

And Then I Read the Note

I fully understand that being a woman makes me somewhat of an emotional creature by nature. If you are a man, you may want to stop reading here. For you women, I think you will understand the emotion involved in what I am about to say. Women are programmed to cry at sappy movies and heart felt commercials. We naturally cry at weddings and funerals. We cry when we are overjoyed, sad, and sometimes even when we are mad. I understand this is our make-up although, I don’t always like it. I used to feel that I had my emotions under control. I don’t know if age or life has allowed them to flow more freely in recent years, but they certainly surface more easily than they used to.

School starts tomorrow, and the past week has been full of those one and two tear moments. The kind of moments when your eyes well, and maybe one or two tears spill over before you can compose yourself. I shed a tear for Dylan about a week ago when the anxiety of starting a new school seemed to be weighing in. I shed a tear or two Sunday when I learned that God had taken care of even the small worries I had about Logan’s school year because his Sunday school teacher is going to be helping him in the lunch room this year. I shed a tear or maybe three when we left his IEP meeting where it was so obvious how much everyone in the room wanted what was best for Logan, and was willing to do anything to make his year as successful as possible. I shed a tear when Dylan picked out his very own locker because he seemed so grown up. Then, another when we dropped all of their school supplies off at their classrooms. While we were in Logan’s room his teacher slipped a note into his book bag and said, “This is for you, mom, don’t read it unless you are ready to cry.” Thinking I had already shed my tears along the way, I decided to pull it out and read it. I thought I had shed my tears, and then I read the note titled “The First Day of School”.

I gave you a wink and a smile as you came into my room that day. For I know how hard it is to leave and know your child must stay. You’ve been with him for five years now and have been a loving guide. But now, alas, the time has come to leave him at my side. Just know that as you drive away and tears down your cheeks may flow. I’ll love him as I do my own and help him learn and grow. So, please put your mind at ease and cry those tears no more; for I will love him and take him in when you leave him at my door. – Jaime Solley

As I read these words, I don’t have to tell you that a river of tears flowed down my cheeks. I cried for the unknowns the year holds, for the kindness of his teacher’s heart, and for the loss of no longer having any children at home. I cried at the realization that I will no longer be continually at his side to make sure he gets up when he falls, his pants get pulled up straight, or to make sure everyone understands everything he says. I cried for him and I cried for myself. I sat in my chair and really let the tears come until there were no more to muster up. So, tomorrow when I drop him off at the doorway of his bright and cheerful Kindergarten classroom I am hoping that I have cried all of the necessary tears. I am hoping that the morning will be full of smiles, excitement and snapshots. But, I will probably put a few Kleenex in my purse, you know, just in case.