Live...passionately!

Sixty seconds in a minute...sixty minutes in an hour...twenty-four hours in a day...365 days in a year. Oh, how time continues to pass much too quickly. I learned long ago that each moment matters. Each breath is a gift. Not one heartbeat should ever be taken for granted.

Yet there is something else I need to realize each moment. Although life often seems overwhelming with cares, responsibilities and uncertainties, I am learning to not only live gratefully but to also live passionately.

As I face each moment, I choose to embrace it with more than mere survival. I choose to celebrate it...cherish it...value it...and live it...fully. If I am working, give it my best. If I am traveling, make the most of each sight, sound and second. If I am singing, sing from my heart and not just my vocal cords. If I am playing piano, play with all my being and not just my hands. If I am caring for my family, friends and fur babies, see it as an opportunity to love and nurture. If I am cleaning house, turn up the music and enjoy the blessings of a home and health to do so. If I am praying, offer it with full reverence, confidence and peace knowing that I am never alone. If I am facing changes, do it with hope and trust that life is full of memories and possibilities.

Live passionately...with purpose, with gratitude, with hope...with joy...with excitement...and with peace. Life is a gift...a precious, incredible, amazing reason to live with enthusiasm, wonderment and assurance to celebrate and appreciate the beauty of this very moment...now...and always.💜~thl

Twenty-six....and counting....

On this day 26 years ago, April 30, 1993, a young family with a four year old daughter and sixteen month old son purchased a house in Harrison County, Kentucky. We knew no one. Tim's family remained in Ohio and my family remained in Virginia. We were all alone except for friends in other counties whom we knew from previous ministries. We were excited, grateful....yet lonely...but not for long.

Neighbors stopped by to welcome us. Church people visited and invited us tobecome part of the community. Our school system soon welcomed our daughter, (and later our son), into the educational family. The medical community quickly learned about us and treated us like family. Eventually, my daughter and I became part of the local community choir, a precious family that continually brings us tremendous joy.

It's very meaningful when we walk into the doctor's office, pharmacy, store, church or restaurant and feel like we now have roots...and lifelong friends. Recently, I met a new friend who asked how long we have resided here. I jokingly said we transplanted here twenty six years ago this month. Her response was amazing. "Oh, honey, you are no longer a transplant! You belong here now and you are family!" Tears came to my eyes as she hugged me and expressed sincere joy that we are here.

Of course, we miss our families out of state. Of course, we miss our friends in other counties, states and countries. Of course, we wish we could live close to all of our loved ones. Today, however, is a reminder of the precious gift God gave us when He led us to Harrison County, Kentucky.

We had no idea what was ahead when we moved here. We have shared joy, laughter, tears, sorrow, loss, illness, concerns, prayers, celebrations...and life with the folks of Cynthiana and Harrison County. Friends have come to our home in the middle of the night for emergencies. Neighbors have mowed our yard, watched our house and even taken out the garbage while we are gone. We have made urgent trips to hospitals, work places and doctors...but not alone. We have gone through 9/11, tornadoes, ice storms, droughts and a flood together.

Twenty-six years later....we are blessed to call this community home. May God bless these precious people as they welcome transplants....and now call us "their own." Thank you, Harrison County and Cynthiana, for making us feel welcome and for treating us like we belong. We are grateful and we love you!💜~thl

Holding onto hope...

Another Easter Sunday came and went this past weekend. It was different beyond anything I could have ever imagined. Unlike last year, I wasn't at my home church, sitting beside my Dad, singing or playing piano with a church family. I didn't prepare the usual Easter feast. I didn't cook at all! I spent this Easter dealing with very unexpected circumstances. It was heartbreaking, heart wrenching and painful. It was nothing like what I planned or desired.

Yet it was an Easter I will not forget. While so much was happening, as well as not happening, I remembered one word all day long. Hope.

Hope gives me strength. Hope helps me see beyond today. Hope reminds me that this is not all there is on this journey. Hope soothes my soul, lifts my spirits, brings me peace and heals my brokenness. Hope gives me every reason to be joyful and thankful regardless of what happens around me or within me. Hope sees me through the storm knowing there is sunshine on the horizon. Hope extends beyond this moment and brings purpose and meaning to each breath I am given.

Today was different...but hopeful. Today was unexpected...but hopeful. Today was not what I planned...but hopeful. Today was not easy...but hopeful. Today was a gift of life, purpose, meaning and hope. I am grateful. I am amazed. I am hopeful. I am never alone.💜~thl

Seasons....silence and sharing

It's been quite a while since I last wrote on my blog.  Much has happened since my last post.  Mom has been gone for over a year and a half.  Many other changes have happened in our family and in our lives.  I had to take a break from writing but that doesn't mean my heart doesn't long to write again.  I plan to write again soon, Lord willing.

There are seasons when we write and seasons when we are silent.  There are seasons when we listen and seasons when we share.  There are seasons when we heal and seasons when we grow.  There are seasons when we retreat and seasons when we refresh.

Life is very much a journey of seasons.  As I feel the temperatures cooling this autumn and as I see the leaves change and fall to the ground, I am reminded that there are seasons for resting and seasons for blooming.  Seasons for warmth and seasons for snuggling.  So it should not surprise us that our life involves many different seasons, as well.

Perhaps I will reflect on some of the recent seasons I have experienced as my writing resumes.  Thank you for your patience.  Thank you for walking through my seasons of silence and seasons of sharing with me.  This journey is a blessing, a gift, a tapestry of breaths, experiences, thoughts, lessons and learning.  I am grateful that My Journey with Him...is never one I face alone.  Truly, that makes all the difference.  <3~thl

Eight weeks....and Eternity....

We knew the time was coming.  We had known for years.  We saw her becoming less of herself and more  the victim of a horrible, cruel and incurable disease.  Yet she lived passionately.  She fought fiercely.  She died peacefully.  Eight weeks ago today, my precious Mom entered the arms of her Lord for eternity.

It doesn't seem possible that she has already been gone that long.  Wasn't it just yesterday she took care of me after I fell through a glass door?  Wasn't it just yesterday she taught me how to cook?  Wasn't it just yesterday that she sang in the kitchen as she worked?  Wasn't it just yesterday she and Dad somehow got five children ready for Church or school each morning?  Wasn't it just yesterday she told me I was going to have a third sibling...and then a fourth?  Wasn't it just yesterday she was thrilled to hear that I was going to give birth to her first grandchild?  Wasn't it just yesterday that she drove two states away to take care of our children while I was in the hospital?  Wasn't it just yesterday that we realized she was facing the challenging diagnosis of Alzheimer's Disease?  Wasn't it just yesterday that she assured me that she still knew I was her daughter? Wasn't it just yesterday I kissed her forehead for the last time and told her I would see her soon?

Yet eight weeks ago today, she left this world for a new, eternal Home, a new body, a new joy and a new life in a place of no more tears, no more sickness, no more goodbyes and no more sadness?  We lost her more and more each day for years.  Then we lost her presence completely.  Yet she is not lost at all for we know exactly where she is and Who is holding her.

I miss my Mom.  I miss her amazing ability to multitask.  I miss her whistling, her singing and her tapping her foot as music played.  I miss her wonderful cooking.  I miss her laughter, her wisdom, her strong spirit and her humor.  I miss her determination and devotion for life and those she loved.  I miss her each moment of every day.  I am her only daughter.  I bear her name as part of my middle name.  I have blue eyes and fair skin like she had.  I think of her when I work, cook, plant flowers. play piano and work daily.

These past eight weeks have been very different.  While she was in the nursing home for several years, I knew that I could visit her when I went home.  Now I visit her grave.  Instead of taking her gifts when I saw her, I now take flowers for her headstone.  Yet these eight weeks have reminded me how precious each moment of life is to us. I am reminded that although the days often seem long, the years are short and gone much too soon.  I realize that my time on this earth is very brief and I must celebrate and embrace each breath as an incredible, precious gift.

Most of all, I realize that this separation is only temporary.  My Mom is in her eternal Home and she will never hurt, suffer, be confused or frightened again.  She is in the presence of the One she loved dearly and with many loved ones she missed greatly.  Mom is healed, whole and joyful.  She is well.  She is happy.  Forever.   Yes, I will miss her through my last breath. Yet our love, our hope, our faith and our Lord will bring us together again.  Eight weeks may seem like forever to me but eternity will be so much greater than these days of missing her here.

Enjoy your Heavenly Home, Mom.  I miss you but I know I will see you again.  Please hug Jesus and all our precious loved ones already there.  Thank you for all the sacrifices, love and ways you touched my life...and many lives...forever.  I'll see you soon and I can hardly wait to hug you...and kiss your forehead again....for eternity.<3~thl

In Memory of my Mom, Barbara P. Huffman
January 14, 1935 ~ April 6, 2017

Winter wonder....

It has been awhile since my last post.  Much has happened with the illness of my Dad and the continued decline of my Mom's battle with Alzheimer's Disease.  Just when we thought things were calming down, illness struck our family again and it has been an interesting and challenging year so far.

It was perfect timing.  His perfect timing. With so much that has been happening in our lives recently, I have certainly seen God leading us, strengthening us and answering our many prayers.  When I have no answers, He does.  When I have concerns, He cares.  When I am weak, He carries me.  When I am uncertain, He gives peace.  When I am discouraged, He gives hope.

Today was no exception.  It wasn't an easy day.  It wasn't a horrible day.  It wasn't my favorite day.  But it was another day.  A gift.  A day to live, breathe, love, work, pray and wonder how everything will work out on many levels.  He is in control.  He is powerful.  He is present.  Yet...in my very human nature, I kept trying to make list after list of what, when, where and how life should be handled.  I felt like I had "to do my part and much more" and soon realized that I am totally unable to handle all that faces us each day and in every situation.

When the mail arrived, a package was delivered.  Totally unexpected.  Totally surprising.  No specific reason.  Yet a package came from a very dear friend.  I couldn't imagine what it contained.  Christmas was over.  Birthday is months away.  So why was a package sent in the middle of winter?

As I opened it, I realized God's timing was once again perfect, precious and provisional.  My dear friend had sent a collection of devotion books for the entire year.  Although January is over, I decided to begin there before diving into February's selections.  My heart was touched deeply as I read the front cover.   "Do everything you can and leave the rest to God."  I knew this in my head but my heart desperately needed to be reminded of this essential truth.  How timely.  How perfect.  How like God!

So on a cool winter's night, with so much on my heart and mind, I received another beautiful "nod from God."  I wonder....does He chuckle as He watches me make my countless lists, notes and plans?  I wonder...does He do as parents often do and think..."Let her realize that it's not all up to her to handle this alone.  I'm still here."  I wonder...does He wonder if I will ever get it right?  Of course, He knows I won't.  But I wonder...how does God who is so amazing, forgiving and gracious...still love me?  I will wonder that the rest of my life.  Yet one thing is for sure.  Today was no ordinary day.  Actually, no day is an ordinary day.  For He is always with us.  His love continues to surround us.  His reminders are always in front of us if we just take time to look, listen and learn.  I am amazed.  I am grateful.  I am never alone.<3~thl

Tiny hands..Touches of heaven...

"She has piano hands!"  Those were the words my "Granddaddy" spoke when he first saw me. I had very dark skin, curly black hair and was very small...barely over six pounds.  Granddaddy's first observation was not about my hair or skin or the tiny baby girl lying in the bassinet.  Instead, he noticed my hands..."piano hands"...as he often called them.

I'm not sure why that was Granddaddy's first response.  Perhaps it was because his sister played piano. My Dad's mother played piano...even as background music for silent movies.  My Mom's mother also played piano.  Granddaddy frequently reminded me.  "You have large hands and long fingers," he said. "Those are piano hands!"

Ironically, around age three, I literally climbed up the piano bench at home and began playing my first classical piece.  Well, it was actually "Jesus Loves Me" but only in my imagination was it close to something Bach, Beethoven or Brahms would have written. My very patient parents and church family endured much as I continued playing piano while I lived in their house and community.

Someone else's hands were much more important than my hands.  Someone else's hands served great purpose, life changing purpose, in ways only His Father could know. Someone else's hands literally touched countless lives in beautiful, miraculous, grueling, excruciating and eternal ways.

I often wonder.  What did God think and feel as He looked upon the hands of His only Son?  Only God knew the details of what His Son's hands would do when He arrived as a newborn Baby.  Only God knew the way His Son would hold the scrolls in the Temple as a young man.  Only God knew the way His Son would hold a hammer and saw as a carpenter...building, creating, renewing and transforming.  Only God knew the miracles His Son would perform as blind eyes would see, deaf ears would hear, diseased bodies would heal and dead bodies would arise.  Only God knew what His Son's hands would eventually endure...on a cross...bearing the weight of the sins of the world.  Only God knew that His Son's hands would  build, create, restore, renew, transform and save...lives...forever.

I also wonder.  How does God view our hands daily?  Does He see us reaching out to others?  Does He see us sharing, caring, working, worshiping, holding, helping and touching lives...in His name?  We may think that our hands are ordinary...imperfect...shaky...weak...or insignificant.  Yet we are created with hands, hearts and lives we can use for Him.

It was on an ordinary night...through ordinary people...that an extraordinary God...touched lives forever.  Tiny hands were touches from Heaven.  These would become the hands of love, life and light. He is the One Whose hands calm the sea, hold us close and lead us Home...to Him. I am amazed.  I am grateful.  I am never alone. I am held in His loving, nail-scarred hands.<3~thl