A Mama Can Only Wonder

In my current work-in-progress, my characters have deep loss woven into their back stories, and they
must move forward regardless of the pain.

I think I just described every journey in the human experience. Hopefully, I can write the story in such a way that it's unique enough, yet familiar enough to find its way to shelves one day.

Lately, I've been good. After my enlightening walk through October (you can read it here), and a focus on my family this November, the first day of December promises a continued sprouting joy, and a promise of peace regardless of what's going on around me.

That's me. That's my condition.

But of course, I am not an island, and my heart's threads are strung up like Christmas lights upon the hearts of my children. Today, I can't shake knowing the loss in my children's life because of wrong words and painful rejection--at no fault of their own--and the curiosity is killing me to know how it's affecting them.
As an author, I dissect my characters' strife and hold it up to the light, looking for chances of redemption, but as a mama, I can't peek inside my children's souls and do the same. I can only pray for them. Sure, I can talk to them and rip off the bandaids of silence and try and doctor the wounds myself, but, as we all know, who wants someone digging up the garbage of their pain?

I just sit. And pray. And mourn the crap that they've found along this journey of human experience. Words hurt. Assumptions hurt. When I suffer from such things, I am forever licking my wounds trying to make sense of the why. Do our children do the same? Do they have the insight into pondering the why? In a selfish, ridiculous sense, I hope not. I hope that they just shrug it off, and let it roll away like  raindrops on a window pane--not caring deep enough yet for the crazy mistakes people make. My daughter seems to take life that way. At her young age of six, she is quick to change the topic when it's about a mean kid or a sad instance. But, I know the hurt's not completely gone. I know she's just pushing it aside because it's too much to feel for her little soul.

When will those grievances finally build up enough to push on her heart in such a way she can no longer ignore them?

Life is messy. It hurts to be on the outside looking in, and knowing you are out of control. Actually, that's one thing I learned in October. I try too hard to control others. I apologize because I want to control the peace. I talk waaaay too much and overanalyze so I can find compromise and common ground and be liked and like back. I pick and prod at my children's feelings so I can counsel them and lead them to joy and peace.

But it's not my job.

I am only effective if they are willing to listen. If they are ready to peek beneath the bandages and begin to investigate their hurts--with me guiding them.

My perspective on life has shifted in a good way, but my heart will always feel more than it probably should, and my mind will always travel the roads of others' human experiences--especially my children--aching to inspect how to find redemption for their losses.

Thank God for the calling to write. At least there, I can dive deep, and create alongside the only Redeemer who remembers no grief and wants to throw the bandaids away.

What's a mama writer to do with the non-fiction silence though? Right now, I know I just pray. Love my kids big, and pray that their character arcs are bathed in redemption that only One can bring in full.

That Lasting Kiss

I haven't blogged in f.o.r.e.v.e.r. Here, anyway. You can always catch me at The Writer's Alley. But, life has been a bit overflowing--good for me, but not so good for this space of mine. I'll catch you up soon...very soon. But right now, my heart needs to bleed...and this is my perfect ground for such an outpour.

a kiss from long ago..sans curls

Perhaps my middle-aged hormones are kicking in (I remember a time, not too long ago, where "Middle Age" only pertained to me because of my love of history...now, it's a real aspect of the present me. ACK. A blog post for another time).

Maybe, my over-active imagination is a bit swollen today since I am hunkering down to tackle edits and brainstorms. But, when I dropped my kindergartner off today, about a month into school starting, I nearly wept on the way home. It was a strange feeling because of what triggered it.

It was a kiss.

Ever had a hug or a kiss linger as you walk away? I could still feel her curls on my chin and her forehead on my lips. Her small whimper signaling the bittersweet goodbye echoed in my ears when I was almost a block away, and her hand on my neck left its warmth even as I turned on the highway.

What a blessing.

To leave her in the care of her teacher but take a reminder of my love home with me.

But my mind is a vicious thing, and it taunted me:

What if that's all you have left of her? What if that was the last kiss?

Half of my loves walking the halls

Years ago, those thoughts would have rarely entered the mind of a mother dropping off her kids at
school. Um, I really don't how far back I can go to a time that it never crossed a mama's mind, the morbid thoughts have been a sad reality for nearly my entire adult life.

Fear grips me, and I want to head back to the school and say, "Never mind, World, I am not giving my children to you. I will do this thing myself."

Um...

Been there, done that--didn't go so well. My relationship with my oldest is still on the mends from our brief season of homeschooling (and I am not saying that all homeschool parents choose to educate out of fear. I know they don't. I know some are ten times better than any teacher, and some are given a gift that I, unfortunately, do not possess).

Fear is a crazy voice--it tells me to linger at the school...take my computer and set up shop in the school parking lot so I can keep an eye on the creeps that enter those doors. Hmmm....that would not be so bad...

Fear is never rational, is it?

There is only one thing that can squelch my fear and assure me that there is a last kiss well beyond the future's horizon. And that's my hope.

Hope in things unseen. Hope in a Good Father who cares more for my children than I do. Hope in a school staff who do everything they can to make my children safe. Hope in Love. Hope in Good.

Hope.

Love.

Where would I be if it weren't for Hope? I'd be huddled in a corner waiting for the end of the world to come crashing down. I'd be scared to reach out and love because that is frightening and vulnerable.

Only through Hope can I step into the unknown with confidence and peace.

And so, as I sit here, ready to dive into edits five miles from my children, I realize that my pulse has calmed and the Peace that surpasses all understanding has invaded my heart.

Instead of panic in that last kiss of mine, I can find joy in the lasting kiss that it was, and the next kiss that will last too.

Have a beautiful weekend, and hold close those that you love.

Writing Mamas Unite! Mama Drama Monday

There's just nothing better than other mamas out there encouraging you in this season. And the ones who have been wired just.like.you. are certainly very special indeed.

I have been blessed with Mama-Writer friends. We have the same crazy passion to make up stories and make them count!

One gal who has made this reality, is my dear friend, Pepper Basham. She debuted this past May with an amazing book, The Thorn Bearer. Seriously, the message and the writing are just so brilliant. NOW, she is already promoting the second in the series, The Thorn Keeper. I have had the chance to read some of this story, to brainstorm with her, and to watch an amazing weaving of words and characters create a very purpose-filled message and beautiful romance.

Intrigued yet?

Well, this FRIDAY, Pepper is going to reveal the cover!!! I am soooo excited, because it's such a great cover (yes, I have had the chance to take a peek...privilege of a Mama-Writer friend).

Be sure to stop by on Fictitious Friday, comment, and then click on Pepper's website (below)!

Here's an official invite to Pepper's Cover Release Party. Don't worry, I will put a reminder up on Friday! It's a Double Giveaway as Mamas unite:

Fictitious Friday giveaway and at www.pepperdbasham.com

Mama Drama Monday is about praising all those Mama Writers out there, and the drama it takes to make a dream come true!

16th Century Perk: Mama Drama Monday

Regardless of vengeful monarchs and beheadings, the 16th century was on to something...

And be sure to check out a little more in depth thoughts on my conference experience here.