Three Life Lessons from Clothes Shopping…Seriously

March 20, 2013 By 24 Comments

I have this peculiar trait. I don’t like shopping for clothes. Especially at malls. Once those glass doors close behind me, I get claustrophobic and confused. So many choices, people, and fashion rules. But I have two upcoming events and need to look spiffy.

Remember (was it during the 80′s?) when we learned to dress in the colors of a certain season? I’m an autumn and have worn army fatigue brown, green, and beige for years.

Color Me Beautiful explains it.

I asked my fashion guru daughter Katie for help. We went to North Georgia Premium Mall, an outlet mall. I had no clue outlet shopping is nothing like regular mall shopping!

You can breathe.

And think.

And laugh.

And sit on a bench, eat ice cream, and watch birds.

Inside the first store, Katie flitted around piling clothes over her arm.

“Kaaaaaatie! I can’t wear those colors. I’m an autumn.”

“Trust me, Mom.” She grabbed a navy blue jacket.

“No! Navy’s for a winter person. I might go with periwinkle, but not navy. I don’t want the jacket. ”

“It’s not a jacket. It’s called a blazer.” She laughed. “Just try it on.”

In the dressing room, I texted a picture to my friend Robin hoping she’d vote for the shirt with warm colors.

“Definitely the blue. Looks like springtime.”

But I’m an autumn.

And then something magical happened when I slipped on the navy blue blazer.

I hardly recognized my new self.

“Wow,” I whispered. “I never knew…”

On the way home, my 2012 word SURRENDER found me.

Surrender can mean…

1. Some old ways of thinking fade.

2. I swallow my pride, ask for help, and listen.

3. I trust God with shopping. With everything.

P.S. Katie had coupons. :-) Everything was 40% off. She says Old Navy has colored jeans on sale!

I bet you love shopping, don’t you? 

*Georgia Premium Outlet Mall picture from geolocations.us.

Love,

Julie

 

 

Filed Under: Fear: A New Way of Thinking, Friendships and Mother/Daughter Relationships, Glimpses of God, Inspirational, The Pitfalls of Perfection Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , ,

The One Sentence I’ll Never Forget

February 27, 2013 By 24 Comments

It’s so strange. When you’re a young mama, you think your children will always be little. At least I did. I was positive I’d be putting band-aids on skinned knees, making school lunches, and answering questions forever.

Our children, 21 years ago…Katie’s in front. Jamie’s holding baby Thomas. Our other son Robbie lives in heaven.

A few weeks ago, Katie called on her way home from work. I had some sort of decision weighing on me. I can’t remember what it was or I’d tell you.

(Katie now, age 28.)

This time, I was the one asking tons of questions. By the end of our conversation, I knew what to do. Dilemma solved.

“Wow,” I said. “Thank you. Did you realize you’re an incredible listener?”

“Awww, thanks, Mom.”

“Seriously. You didn’t interrupt me. You didn’t tell me what to do. You had the sweetest tone and you didn’t act bored. It means a lot.”

“Just think,” she said. “You’ve listened to me every single day of my life.”

Her sentence was a lacy pink Valentine to my heart.  A gift I’ll never forget.

She remembered.

Images of my children passed through my mind.  A lifetime of words.

Maybe there’s no greater gift than to listen. 

To really listen.

Love,

Julie (Mom)

Filed Under: Being a Mom, Friendships and Mother/Daughter Relationships, Glimpses of God, Inspirational Tagged With: , , , , ,

Letting Go…Vintage Style

August 22, 2012 By 24 Comments

Yesterday I asked Mother to tell me about her first day of school again. I love the story. This time, a new truth surfaced–for both of us.

(Grandmother Goge, and my mother. Early 1940s.)

I’m in red letters. Mother’s in black.

                                                                               ***************                                  

Early that September morning on the front porch, I decided I was afraid. “Mother,” I said blinking hard. “Look. Everybody’s mothers are walking with them.” School was four blocks away.

I had no idea mothers walked their children to school. My father died when I was two, and Mother couldn’t walk with me. She had to go to work.

“You’ll be fine, Mannie.” She knelt down on the porch and re-tied my sash. “Miss Edna is expecting you, and you can walk with your friends and their mothers.”

I blinked harder and swallowed.

Mother held me close for a minute and whispered, “You’re not really going alone. I’ve asked Jesus to go with you.”

But I couldn’t see Him. Or hold His hand.

Nevertheless, I plodded along with my friends.

In our classroom, all the other mothers stood in a semi-circle as we children found our desks.

“Good morning, boys and girls,” Miss Edna said. “Welcome to Stillwell Elementary. I see mothers have come with their children today. That’s nice. There’s one child who came without her mother. This little girl must be very mature. Marion, dear, will you be my helper?” She patted a small chair beside her.

Miss Edna’s smile greeted me with warmth I couldn’t explain. I sat in the chair, my feet not quite touching the floor, but joy touching my heart. Every ounce of fear disappeared!

Oh, Mother, what wisdom Goge had!

What if she’d looked afraid?

What if she’d clung to you on the porch? Or said, “How will you manage without me?”

Nope. None of that. And she didn’t grab my hand and run along beside me saying, “I don’t have time to do this–I’ll be late for work, but I can’t let go.”

You know, she gave you the secret of love. And life.

Something else.

What she said, well…it helps us let go at the end and move  on to the next life. Oh, Julie. Imagine the joys we’ll discover there!

Now I’m the one blinking hard. If Goge were alive today, I’d thank her!

 

How are you doing with letting go? Any nuggets of wisdom?

Love,

Julie

 

 

Filed Under: Being a Mom, Fear: A New Way of Thinking, Friendships and Mother/Daughter Relationships, Glimpses of God, Inspirational Tagged With: , , , ,

For The Moon Never Beams Without Bringing Me Dreams…

February 15, 2012 By 13 Comments

Last Wednesday night the moon was amazing.  It wasn’t the shape of a fingernail clipping, or a half-moon like orange chewy candy.

Oh, no. This was a golden grapefruit suspended at the edge of the horizon.

Like no moon I’d ever seen.

I called my daughter Katie and told her to look at it. She loves sunsets and sunrises. I knew she’d love this gorgeous moon.

She ran outside. “I can’t find it!”

“What do you mean? It has to be there. Keep looking.”

She circled her house. “There’s no moon. Just a blank sky.” She sounded a little sad.

I was driving home from the Y. “Well, it’s to my left and I’m on highway–”

“That doesn’t help me, Mom. I guess we don’t have a moon where I live.”

We laughed and decided maybe the moon was hiding from her.

After we hung up, I couldn’t forget what she said…

We don’t have a moon where I live.

Her words worked their way into my heart.

Surely God has a message here for me.

At times, I’ve felt like maybe He was hiding. Or maybe He just wasn’t listening.

The next day Katie sent me an email. “I never found the moon, but look at the sunrise this morning. Right over our house!”

 

Thank you Lord. Just what she needed today. :-)

Trust Me, Julie, God seemed to say. I know my children’s needs.  I haven’t forgotten.

I created the sun, the moon, the stars, the heavens, and the very air you breathe.

I’m closer than you ever dreamed.

(title is from a line from “Annabel Lee” by Edgar Allen Poe, one of my favorite poems)

Love,

Julie

 

 

 

Filed Under: Being a Mom, Glimpses of God, Inspirational, Where are You, God? Tagged With: , , , ,

Is There A Party Going On In Here?

February 8, 2012 By 38 Comments

This past Friday, Mother had her breast biopsy. Waiting hasn’t been easy for her.

My sister Jennifer, Mom’s husband Gene, and I joined her inside the curtained cubicle in pre-op. “Oh, good. Y’all are here.”

Pretty soon she asked for her big white sunglasses.

“You’re going to wear them in the hospital?” I said.

“The overhead light’s bright and I don’t have on any under-eye concealer.”

Jennifer fished through Mother’s huge Ziploc baggie and handed her the glasses.

“This is too funny–you in these glasses. Can I take a picture for my blog?”

“By all means.”

I handed Gene the camera and we crowded around her bed.

 

“That picture’s terrible. Looks like I’m lyin’ a corpse. Take a another one and I’ll hold my head up better.”

Only my mother. :-)

 

“You and Jen look like nerd sisters from the sixties wearing your glasses. Ya’ll take a picture looking like that. It’s only fair.”

 

“Listen to all the chatter in the other cubicles,” Mother said. “Sounds like a party. Wish I could meet everybody and work the room.”

“You could in those glasses.” Jennifer said.

Who knew you could have this much fun in pre-op? We got tickled–started laughing hysterically, and then the anesthesiologist pulled the curtain back. Ahhhhhhh! He caught us snapping pictures. I’m not sure he understood our humor, but Mother’s doctor sure did.

“I should have known your mother would have a party going on in here.” He flopped down on the end of the tiny bed and laughed with us.  Mother laughed so hard she cried.

After surgery, Mom ate some of Jen’s homemade fudge. She said she had so much fun, she wants to come back next week and do it again!

When you aren’t afraid, sometimes life just gets downright funny.

“A merry heart does good like medicine…” Proverbs 17:22 (KJ)

P.S. Tuesday, 5:38 p.m. Mom just called. Great report! Benign papilloma!

Love,

Julie

Filed Under: Fear: A New Way of Thinking, Glimpses of God, Inspirational Tagged With: , ,

Unspoken Joy…More Than a Christmas Tree

December 21, 2011 By 10 Comments

Mother’s 75. Her husband Gene is 80. Seeing their ages as I type them, it startles me. Mom has a couple of autoimmune illnesses. Some days her energy gets zapped.  A phone conversation from three weeks ago…

“I’m not putting up a tree this year,” Mother said emphatically. “It’s too much trouble.”

I’m not ready for this. Not yet. “If Jeremy (my brother) will put it up, I’ll help you decorate it.”

“What’s a tree anyway?” she said.

“Remember Christmas of ’82? You said the same thing.”

It was my father’s last Christmas. He died the following July from a brain tumor. Jeremy surprised us and put up the tree by himself.

“I remember the year my mother stopped putting up a tree,” she said softly. “I begged her to get one.”

So you know how I feel.

“Gene said it’s fine with him if we don’t put it up,” she said.

“Is it fine with you not to have one?” Please say no. Say you want a tree.

“Pretty much. I guess.”

My heart was sad for them. For me. But I reminded myself that they’re getting older. Things change.

She called two days later.

“You’ll never believe it! Our tree’s up. A friend said if I didn’t do it this year, I’d never do it again.”

Hallelujah!

“I took my time decorating it,” she said. “Rested when I needed to.”

I’m so proud of you. “Can’t wait to see it!”

“You coming over for oyster stew like last year?”

 “Of course! Wouldn’t miss it.”

 

Last Thursday, oyster stew night, I studied her ornaments as though I’d never seen them.

I found my brother Jon’s childhood thumbprint, the jeweled ball I made when I was seven, my sister Jennifer’s two-inch tattered Little Drummer Boy, Jeremy’s popsicle stick star, and Mother’s angels.

After dinner, we sat on her sofa. Still. Quiet. Just looking at her tree.

It’s more than a tree, you know,” Mother said.

I nodded. Some things are too deep for words.

Thank you, Lord. Another Christmas.

Love,

Julie

I’m praying for readers as I post this blog. Christmas can be a difficult time–especially when we’ve lost loved ones.

Filed Under: Friendships and Mother/Daughter Relationships, Glimpses of God, Inspirational Tagged With: , ,

Aging (and Living) Gracefully

August 24, 2011 By 23 Comments

 

One day this spring, Mother fixed oyster stew and boiled custard. Two of my favorites. We sat at her worn oak kitchen table. Our centerpiece, a Mason jar full of daffodils from her yard.

“What’s it like getting older?”

“It happens before you know it, ” she said. “First you start taking a little sweater wherever you go.”

“I already do.”

She took a bite of stew. “Carrying a sweater is a comforting feeling. Like a baby with her blanket, or gentle loving arms around you.”

“What else?”

“Well, I was about 40 when a shoe saleslady handed me a pair of sturdy brown pumps and said, ‘This is what all the matrons are wearing this year.’ If that happens, tell her no thank you and run.”

“So, never admit to being a matron?”

“Never. You’ll learn to say no to a lot of other things, too.” Mother peered out her bay window. “I’ve fallen over the same rock twice this week, but women in our family fall well.” She smiled. “My mother said when you fall, don’t be afraid.”

“What’d you do after you fell?”

“I got up and kept going.”

Our eyes met for a second.

“Okay, what about throwing a good party?”

“Don’t go to a lotta trouble. Years ago, a lovely lady had a dinner party. She ordered pizza and served it on fine china. If the hostess is having a good time, everybody else will too.”

“Beauty tips?”

“Pure whipping cream for a facial, and when your eyelids droop over your eyes in the morning, use ice cubes.”

We were on a roll. “Housecleaning?”

“Nobody knows if you vacuum, which gives you a lot of freedom.”

“Anything else?”

“Don’t waste time and energy caring what people think. That ages you. Pretty soon, you stop calling your friends to find out what they’re wearing. Wear what you want to and smile real big.”

“This sounds like so much fun.”

“It is.”

“Like you finally accept yourself, faults and all.” Almost like you become best friends with yourself.

“You do. And God is very patient with us,” Mother said. “He’ll wait decades if necessary. Wish I’d done it sooner.”

“…if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.” John 8:36 (NIV)

Love,

Julie

Filed Under: Being a Mom, Fear: A New Way of Thinking, Friendships and Mother/Daughter Relationships, Glimpses of God, Inspirational, The Pitfalls of Perfection Tagged With: ,

The Clue in My Closet

August 3, 2011 By 6 Comments

I’m a strange woman. I’m not fashion savvy and I hate to shop.

My bedroom closet was out of control. Katie, our 27-year-old daughter, spent a Friday night with us this spring. Katie knows clothes. I asked her to help me.

We piled everything–pants, shirts, belts, purses, shoes, and scarves–onto my unmade bed. Katie studied each item carefully before suggesting the give-away or keep pile. I agreed with her on most things, but a few times I questioned her smarts.

She placed a black shirt in the give-away pile. I got it out. “This is cute. Black looks good on everybody.”

“Whatever you think, Mom.” She picked up a pair of faded jeans.

“But don’t you think the skirt might work with this shirt?” I held up a black-and-white swirly printed blouse.

“Really, it’s your choice.” She smiled and kept working.

If she’d just argue with me I could change her mind.

But she wouldn’t. Whenever I disagreed she said, “I’m being honest, but it’s up to you.”

Then it hit me.

Katie knows fashion, color, and style. I’d asked for her advice. Her gentle answers were a lot like God’s responses when I argued with Him. He reveals Truth and allows me to make a choice.

But God, don’t You think…

But God, if I just…

But God, surely You didn’t mean…

I donated three tall kitchen trash bags of clothes, but Katie left me with a lot more than a clean closet. She inspired me to be quiet and listen more intently to the Master Designer. He knows best.

“The way of a fool seems right to him, but a wise man listens to advice.” Proverbs 12:15 (NIV)

Love,

Julie

Filed Under: Being a Mom, Glimpses of God, Inspirational Tagged With: , ,