WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME? By Lori A Alicea (Part 3 of 3)


Discovering those beautiful diamonds of God’s goodness and faithfulness while mining my rejection!

PART 3 OF 3

https://applesofgoldencouragement.blog/2023/05/11/whats-wrong-with-me-by-lori-a-alicea-part-1-of-3/

WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME? By Lori A Alicea (Part 2 of 3)

All Aboard!

God has taken his seat on the bus and the VICTORY LAP begins with our new Tour Guide ready to reveal the bigger picture of my life with every site we re-visit.

The old hymn we six siblings sang in harmony together while seated side by side on the wooden pew of the old country church our mother walked us to begged to burst forth from my soul, “OH VICTORY IN JESUS!”  

There is about to be an exchange of…

BEAUTY FOR MY ASHES.

to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes.
The oil of joy instead of mourning,
And a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair….
Isaiah 61:3 NIV

With shovels and pick axes in hand, we are entering the mine of my rejection, about to discover those beautiful and precious diamonds of God’s goodness and faithfulness.

As we think on those things which are…

Of a good report…

Of virtue…

And are praiseworthy.

Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of a good report, if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.
Scripture Philippians 4:8 KJV

Mining for answers of all my questions, our Senior Pastor counsels his flock to turn around and look back a generation or more to understand the “whys” in our life, because the…

Iniquities of the fathers are visited upon the children unto the third and fourth generation.
(Exodus 20:5)

Without God, history repeats itself as fathers bequeath to their children and children’s children the tainted wells of their life as an inheritance for the generations beyond them to drink from.  Pastor also encourages us to “stop up and close off” for good those old wells of bitter water and dig anew that we might leave a (spiritual) inheritance to his children’s children to draw from instead.
(Proverbs 13:22)

Sadly, I found the answers to my “whys” while digging three generations back.

Not wanting to face this part of the tour alone, I found it comforting to share my seat of VICTORY with the (memory) of two other innocent girls whose pages of their childhood story were drenched and stained from those tears of sorrow similar to mine; my sisters Belinda and Mary.siblings belinda mary

 Together, we will hold each other’s hands from across the seat and look through the “windows of our past” without being afraid anymore, because God is about to reveal the scenes and details He was fully present in, though we were unaware.

 I take this VICTORY LAP for my daughters and granddaughters and also for my two sisters who suffered this part of their life in silence, that their legacy gain their wings for their daughters and granddaughter who continue the journey beyond their mother’s and grandmother’s life.

Reading our story, one might ask themselves, “Why does a loving God allow such heartache on innocent girls?”  Our good daddy replies to His daughters,

“It rains on the just and the unjust.”  (Matthew 5:45)

While God never promised a life without us “getting wet” from the tragedy’s of the world, He did promise to hold the umbrella and weather the storm with us.

THE SIGHTS OF GROWING UP Revisited…

Re-visiting our childhood home, I soon discover God’s hand of protection on our life when mother asked us girls to find another place to live following the assault from my step-dad, as our family home caught fire some time later and the flames began and ignited from my childhood room.

I was also heartbroken to discover my mother’s parents drank from the well of abandonment when as a baby, my grandmother left my mother in the crib to cry for hours without comfort as my grandmother left her alone during the evenings of dating.

My mother’s unrelenting cries of hunger and desperation for her mother’s arms could be heard and felt from the open windows of the neighbors, who offered no assistance to a child left alone.

Wanting also to hold and protect my mother close when I realize there were relatives in her life who drank from the well of sexual abuse.

The iniquities of the parents visit the third and fourth generations.
(Exodus 20:5)

After forty-plus-years I was finally brave enough to dig for answers regarding the man who assaulted an innocent girl while she slept.

A faithful Father protected and spared His daughter that night from the evils of my step-father when I discovered he left a party a few years later and raped two women at knife point; although the charges were never upheld in court.

My Pastor always reminded us,

Without God, we are all capable of the unthinkable.”

Though divorced by this time from my mother and decades since we last saw our step-father, he now lay in the hospital bed and within days of his death, my mother worried of his salvation.

As it is not God’s will that any should perish, but have everlasting life, my mother made a difficult request of us adult children to visit and say our final good-byes to him at his hospital bedside.

 Believing love never fails, we trusted our kindness might stir man’s heart for eternity.

Not forgetting our roots and heritage to a child’s promise of blessing in honoring their parents, even the office of mother and father when the emotions are too painful; we adult children visited our step-father with a pure heart to honor him in our final farewell.

Honor your father and mother, as the Lord your God has commanded you, so that you may live long and that it may go well with you in the land the Lord your God is giving you.
Deuteronomy 5:16 NIV

Taking in the final days of this man I once knew as step-dad, who now struggled and gasped to breathe for a single sip of coffee, the difficult memories I carried for decades in my heart’s pocket became a mere blur to this unknown person bloated at the abdomen, dying from emphysema.

Noticing the well wishes on the night stand for my step-father caught me off guard and took my breath to realize they were greeting cards the grandchildren gave him years ago when they were little.

We were the only family this broken man had ever known.

Born as an innocent boy with a story being written from the same God and pen in His hand who was also writing mine, yet still a boy on the inside who was never loved to life; as his own father drew from the well of alcoholism and child abuse.

We children honored this man and our mother by attending his funeral.

The blessings were ours for the taking in our honoring.

Regarding my mother, I grew up without ought or an unforgiving heart towards her; how could I?  She was a woman who introduced me to Jesus by taking me to church, sending me to camp, joining us at Vacation Bible School and so much more.

The same Jesus who forgives me of my trespasses when we forgive those who trespass against us. (Matthew 6:12)

Yet sadly, I don’t believe my Mother ever forgave herself or moved beyond the ash heap of ground zero from the spiritual fires her choices cost her family.

 I grieve for mom and my sisters Mary and Belinda who left this earth suffering in the silences of their past when God longed to touch their brokenness with the healing salve of a Fathers’s love.

We each hold keys to the gates which unlock those secret places we dare not allow any to trespass; but we must be willing to relinquish and surrender these entrances of our lives for freedom’s sake.

Mother looked at me for the remainder of my life without her glasses, never noticing how God turned my mourning into dancing, gave me beauty for my ashes, how God made something beautiful out of my life.

I QUESTIONED MY MOTHER’S LOVE FOR ME revisited.

Four years before my mother died, her address changed to a nursing home and I offered to pack up her house. Before the details of my mother’s life was photographed and chronicled on a spreadsheet for future gifting to her heirs, I asked the Lord a question while sitting in my mother’s chair.

ME AND MOTHER’S BOXES (excerpt)
By Lori A Alicea

Lord, is there anything among my mother’s things that you want to give me?

We didn’t grow up with riches, but we were rich in ways money could never afford. Any lose ends from the fray of my memory have been tied in a bow, leaving only good thoughts under the cloak of my childhood.Lori Siblings

I needed God to complete the sentence relationship of mother and me with not a “period”, but possibly a heart emoji, a kiss of the heart, or a gift of affection.

Sixty-five boxes in total. I held in my hands the last remaining treasure among mother’s sixty-five boxes.
Boxes 3
An old jewelry box filled with mother’s mismatched pieces of costume necklaces, earrings, rings and broaches, jewelry I remember mother wearing vividly when I was growing up. A jewelry box displayed on her bedroom dresser, a familiar piece I cleaned for decades as mother’s housekeeper. I knew it well.

The hidden finds inside this jewelry box rewinds the 8mm collections of me as a child playing dress up with mother’s baubles and beads.

I sigh…I take a breath…There it was.

Like an old photograph buried in the dust of time prompting a double-take and closer view, I stopped in the moment to remember.

Held in my hands a gift from God, bewildered I hadn’t noticed it during my years as mother’s housekeeper, even more bewildered this gift was in plain sight during the packing.

A sweet sixteen present from her mother and father, A birthday celebration for my mother, A beautiful watch with the inscription and sentiment I had never read before, “To Our Loving Daughter”.

Beholding this gift up close I knew without question, God didn’t want to give me treasures, God wanted to give me words, God longed to breathe these words of affirmation upon my life, “To Our Loving Daughter.” Most endearing of all was the phrase, “To Our”, received as two people, my mother and father, my heavenly Father.

God redeemed our relationship symbolically with a watch (gift of time, my love language) that was given on my mother’s sweet 16 (about age I was when the incident with my step-father happened. The watch face was broken, but God redeemed my sweet 16 with the inscription on the other side.
Anniversary picture
ME AND MOTHER’S BOXES (excerpt ends)

I QUESTIONED MY FATHER’S LOVE FOR ME… (revisited)

Mining my life of rejection through the relationship with my father, God revealed to me how dad drew from a dry well and couldn’t quench my thirst for love and affirmation.

As an adult, I found enough grace for dad and his “lack to see me”. I soon questioned in secret, “What affirmations failed to be poured into that little boy’s life who one day became my dad?”

COMING TO TERMS OF ENDEARMENT (excerpt)
By Lori A Alicea

Aware through a cancer scare years prior to his actual graduation to heaven, I feared the uncertainty of his days and losing dad without him hearing how I felt.  So, after Thanksgiving one year, I decided to surrender in an advent calendar, titling it “Twenty Five Things My Dad Did Right”.

As a parent myself I strive to give my kids the best of me, though acknowledging I’ve made my share of mistakes.  Having grace for his, I decided for every day leading up to December 25, I’d give dad a gift of my appreciation.

Opening up a daughters treasure chest, I wondered if there were 25 memories tucked away.  But in turning the key to my heart, I marveled at what I had saved.

Like running into the kitchen each Sunday afternoon from church, faithfully finding that one piece of toast dad hadn’t eaten for breakfast.  I always believed he left it for me.

Or realizing after graduating from high school and college just how smart dad really was, though never receiving either diploma.  Dad could fix anything, and I truly admired that.

How could I forget dad adoring me in my wedding dress, setting aside his pain as we had buried grandma earlier that morning.

Christmas, when it came, dad declared he’d received the best gift of his life, presenting the advent calendar to us all.  “Tis the season” as dad seemed to stand a little taller, dad seemed to come to life.

The bells of Christmas rang a new message for me that year.  Maybe dad was never daddies little boy and couldn’t give me a love he hadn’t known.  When dad came to life that holiday season, I believe this little girl did the same.

COMING TO TERMS OF ENDEARMENT (excerpt end)

Weeks leading up to my father’s passing, I kept thinking of Jacob’s story from the Bible who gathered his sons around the death bed where he blessed them individually.

I also longed a father’s blessing.
dads house 4
A FATHER’S BLESSING (excerpt)
By Lori A Alicea

Bless me father.”

Oh, that you would bless me.”

Visiting dad for what would be my last day to see him alive and heartbroken over dad’s visible frailty and sagging T-shirt hanging over his protruding bones, I began to lose hope of a Father’s Blessing. But unbeknownst to me, a blessing awaits its reveal.

There’s one fact I’m certain about God my heavenly father, he loves his little girls. No matter her age, weight, social status, marital status, degrees or lack thereof, etc., God is smitten with his girls.

God smitten with “this little girl” heard my prayer that summer and answered me days before my father’s death in a small but impactful way; not at my father’s bedside, but kitchen table instead.

God’s choice of the kitchen table for a Father’s Blessing tied years of my fondest memories, as at this table dad handed out our Christmas gifts each December.  I loved that my heavenly father chose this memory backdrop and used the same chair dad sat in for years during our Christmas exchanges to bless me.
xmas at dads
Seated around the table were me and my dad, my step-sister and dad’s caregiver. Just having small talk, dad asked his caregiver to help him up and assist dad to his room. Back in his seat, dad handed me a framed letter and asked, “Would you please read this to me?”

Not a crier by nature, I fought to compose myself when dad asked me to read a Father’s Day gift I gave him a year ago. Always drawing a blank when buying dad’s gifts, that Father’s Day I felt led from God to honor my dad’s military service; a conversation we never had; but I never asked either.

Accompanied with a flag that Father’s Day, I never seen dad so emotional.

We are told by God to give Honor to whom honor is due. (Romans 13:7)

Honor was due my father; an accumulation of years due.

These same framed words dad gave back to me and asked me to read at his funeral.
IMG_3715Dear Dad,

For 54 years I have celebrated you as my dad and all that you have sacrificed and contributed to my life. You have been a great provider. You have protected me when I have needed you to. You are always a phone call away. And you have been a friend throughout the years.

But the one attribute of my father that I have not celebrated until today is your service in the military. Until I became a mom with a son serving in the military, did I fully appreciate the sacrifices of a member in the military.

I am sad to say I know nothing about your time in the navy, but that’s because I never asked. But I do know you actively served, and for that, I salute you today and thank you for

SERVING YOUR COUNTRY FOR OUR FREEDOM.

I am giving you this gift as my way of saying thank you for your service.

Happy Father’s Day

Love, Lori and David

You may be wondering, “Is that it! Is that your Father’s Blessing?”

The true Father’s Blessing revealed itself during the packing up of dad’s house.

Sadly dad “said a lot again” when we kids realized there wasn’t a single picture, card or memento saved and left behind of dad’s six kids, or crowd of grand-kids and great-grand-kids. Not one.

Except the letter of mine that dad framed and hung in the entrance of his room.

I won’t add to dad’s heart as his heart was a locked door for most of our relationship. But a Father’s Day present became a Father’s Day Blessing that summer of 2016.

An added bonus discovered deep in my father’s attic was his old fashioned lunch pail, a true treasure I kept to remind myself what a “standard of excellence” looks like.
IMG_3716
Dad was buried with Military Honors. In death our father received the military honor due him in life.

During the years that an earthly father “didn’t see” her, a little girl;

A heavenly father couldn’t take His eyes off of her.

A Father’s Blessing I am truly aware of when I sleep and when I slumber.

If God gives such attention to the wildflowers, most of them never even seen, don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? Luke 12:28 Message

A FATHER’S BLESSING (excerpt end)

WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME?

I’ve been asking this question most of my life to myself, but sadly, I never inquired of the Lord.

The Father answers a daughter’s question, though not with rebuke, but with love and gentleness as a good daddy does.

“Daughter, you been asking the wrong question all these years.  Instead, I long you to ask of your Father, WHO AM I IN CHRIST?  And then He answers…

THE GOD WHO SEES (excerpt)
By Lori A Alicea

You knit me in my mother’s womb,
And wonderfully I’m made.
Created me so fearfully,
The days you watched, you stayed.

Not hidden in this secret place,
Your works, I praise for these.
Your eyes they saw my unformed self,
You are the God who sees.

How precious are your thoughts of me,
More than the grains of sand.
My days are written in your book,
One mind can’t understand.

You see me when I sleep at night,
You see when I’m awake.
You are the God who sees it all,
You see each breath I take.

Yes, I am yours and you are mine,
My heart, you have the keys.
You’ve drawn me Oh Beloved One,
You are the God who sees.

Psalms 139; Genesis 16:13; Solomon 6:3

I have grown into a woman fully aware of the love God has for me.

I have loved you with an everlasting love;

I have drawn you with loving kindness. Jeremiah 31:3

So, what about that red hair, green eyes and face full of freckles?
ALICEA David Lori
I asked the question years later in my life, and it’s amazing when you ask the simple questions God longs to hear, the answers He generously gives.

Our good Father whispered and pointed to the mirror of my reflection:

Oh daughter, your red hair is a gift from me; only 2% of little girls are strawberry blonde; red hair with green eyes are even more uncommon.

And those freckles…God leans in close to tell me a secret…

Your mother told you those freckles were kisses from the S U N.

Well actually, your freckles are sweet kisses from my S O N.

All grown up when I could have changed my hair to any color in the rainbow, I kept the gift God gave me…
David and Lori together 3
Yes, God is so good to me.  As a child I sang in Sunday School those exact words:

GOD IS SO GOOD By Paul Makai

God is so good.  God is so good.  God is so good.  He’s so good to me.

God is a good Father to all His children.  He longs for His sons and daughters to climb on His lap and lean into His love.

He even blessed me with a Cinderella love story in marriage nearly twenty-nine years ago. wedding all kids

At our 25th Anniversary Wedding Vow Renewal we sang the words of a good and faithful God:

The faithfulness and goodness of God has followed me my whole life.  The faithfulness and goodness of God has followed you too.

I want my daughters and granddaughters and girls and women alike to rejoice in the God who made them fearfully and wonderfully…

Missing teeth and all…

THE GOD WHO SEES (excerpt ends)

Rosalee praising Jesus

Thank you to everyone who found a seat on this tour and “lifted me up” with your presence as my honored guest.

 It was in the turning and sharing of these tear stained pages of my story that I might give hope to someone else who suffers in silence.

What was intended for my harm, God turned it around and used it for my good.  (Genesis 50:20)

THE WELL WE DRAW FROM  By Lori A Alicea

Her life was a deep well to draw from.

The splashing of water spills over from bucket to bucket, colliding with one another from broken sisters lowering their needs into the well of this woman’s life, drawing forth a cup of refreshment from the Lord she was offering.

A drink…

To quench a lonely heart…

To survive another day…

To give hope for tomorrow…

To encourage the discouraged…

From a well that never went dry in the Lord, we drank.

unrecognizable woman touching water in garden
Photo by Dmitriy Ganin on Pexels.com

I knew her well.

Pastor of Ladies Ministry; we called her Pastor Sue.

In her china cabinet of Ladies Ministry, each broken china doll was displayed as beautiful; never acknowledging the cracks of our lives, only giving us a special place and purpose to belong, to find healing, to be loved.

And that we did.

A newly single mother with two small children and walking thru doors of this church for the first Sunday that week thirty-three years ago, I hadn’t realized how parched and thirsty for a drink from the Lord I needed.

When you’re tilling up the fields of new beginnings, one fails to assess their “strength of heart” when those children you hold in your arms depend on their mother from fainting not.

A cup of cool water filled to its brim was handed to me as I stood in my brokenness at the well of this woman’s life.

Ladies ministering to ladies…

Continually pouring into our cups from the buckets drawn from God’s love the ladies served…

Being the example before us, Pastor Sue served from the posture of servant as Jesus served.

With an open hand Pastor Sue she gave, she lavished and poured out generously as Jesus did so with his life.

Pastor Sue taught us daughters by example and portrait titled Virtuous Woman from the gallery in her role as wife, mother and friend.

Pastor Sue drank from the well of Living Water, and served those desperate for a drink from the same well in her life.

As a young mother I watched and learned and I drank; eventually pouring into the cups of broken women thirsty and desperate for a drink themselves.

I’ve never forgotten the friendship and deep well of Pastor Sue’s life.
Pastor Sue
Facebook photo from Tina Freeman

She modeled a life of Christ that had you thirsting for more of Him.

Pastor Sue took us to the shallow wells of bitterness, wells of rejection, the wells of sorrow, we might drinking from.

Then showed us how to close up those wells, and take us to the deep places, where the splashing of water spills over from bucket to bucket, colliding with one another from broken sisters lowering their needs into the well of this woman’s life, drawing forth a cup of refreshment from the Lord she was offering.

unrecognizable woman touching water in garden
Photo by Dmitriy Ganin on Pexels.com

The pages of Pastor Sue’s life are found and read from the scriptures where the older teach the younger the truths of a virtuous woman; an amazing read which still has a place on the shelf of this mother, now grandmother’s heart.

These older women must train the younger women to love their husbands and their children, to live wisely and be pure, to work in their homes, to do good, and to be submissive to their husbands. Then they will not bring shame on the word of God.
Titus 2:4-5 NLT

BLOOM WHERE YOU’RE PLANTED…By Lori Alicea

We’re all planted somewhere.

A friendship…
A marriage…
A job…
A community…
Our personal dreams…

Yes, we’re all planted somewhere, but are we blooming?USE Aubrey smell flower 1

Looking back over the last two years when my husband and I planted our lives in this small community, I question our blooming while watering our gardens at sunset.HOUSE VALPOUSE both girls looking back

Gardens grow with love and attention where breathtaking flowers of every bouquet are birthed.

Paintings of wonder are framed in the gardener’s mind at spring, imagining their strokes of color and beauty bursting off the canvas at summer’s end.USE flowers 2

I’ve asked myself…

Have our gardens of neighbors grown and flourished from those seeds of love and attention we’ve planted in them?

Are there bouquets of relationship flowers bursting in color up and down the street because we’ve imagined them at spring?

Have we bloomed in contentment from the address we are planted?USE Ayva smell flower 3

With a brand new house next door (like ours) which has been up for sale these past few months, we’ve intentionally greeted those peeking through the windows with a verbal tour of the neighborhood, occasionally hosting a tour of our home when these prospective neighbors wondered what the inside and size looked like with furniture.

David and I have enjoyed promoting our home sweet home community, sowing seeds of kindness to whom God might be sending to live one house over from us.

F4D79D00-BEBC-45FC-B0CE-1956067563E0

That neighbor finally moved in a few weeks ago, an older woman living on her own with her only daughter residing in Texas; an opportunity to love on somebody’s mother in her absence.

Do unto others

As I would have wanted done for my mother in the same situation.

We’ve made a few friends over the last two years, helping the “older than us” when we can.

David went missing for a few hours last summer when I found him fixing another man’s roof; keeping the homeowner safe in his lawn chair after my husband stopped him from wobbling up the ladder.

You wave at passerby’s in the community, rolling our window down every now and then for a few moments of conversation at the mailbox hub.

We’ve introduced ourselves to those congregating outside
during our evening walks around the park.

You never know what kind of day your neighbors are having; who’ve also reciprocated the love when the weather report on our faces reads cloudy skies.

Kindness is always the cherry on top for a smile waiting to happen.

But the question remains…

Have we bloomed in contentment these last two years we’ve planted ourselves at this address?D9DBC329-22EC-4CDD-BCB0-399F1897C8FE

While we love this charming home God gave us, we desperately long the country life we enjoyed during our early years of marriage.

Every night in the evening, David and I intentionally get lost in back-roads, driving towards the desperate longing that calls our hearts, an excerpt I once wrote about in a former blog…
________________________

THE LONG WAY HOME
By Lori A Alicea

(excerpt…)

The long way home gives you time to reacquaint yourselves with one another, as life changes from day to day as the four seasons do, and one must dress appropriately for the weather escorted in.

Are we there yet?”

Usually not, when the compass of our travels is a constant turn to the east or west down roads where the scenery isn’t familiar and stirs your curiosity for any hidden log cabins to discover.

cabin near trees
Photo by Marcus Murphy on Pexels.com

Then is the map you follow for those log cabins you long to see for the umpteenth time, stopping at the edge of their driveway and dreaming together over a few sips of our coffee, adding a childlike gift to our Christmas list once again this year.

snowy brown house near tree
Photo by Evelyn Chong on Pexels.com

The best seats in the house can be purchased for the price of a few gallons of gas and uninterrupted moments of time except to enjoy and take in the view of nature’s carefree children chasing each other around the trees and deep into the woods of their private playground.

brown deer surrounded with snow covered trees
Photo by Jill Wellington on Pexels.com


(excerpt end…)
________________________

For our young granddaughter’s delight, I’ve sown a few rocks in my garden for their discovery…

Rocks of peace, laughter, believing, friends and hope…each glittered to catch their attention.

Maybe I’ve sown these rocks of encouragement for this little girl in me unknowingly.

Sometimes we question why and where we’re planted when you’d rather be re-potted elsewhere.

But we are reminded to find contentment in all things…

…for I have learned to be content in whatever situation I am in.
Philippians 4:11 NIV

I’ve also learned these last sixty-one summers, it’s best to trust and be in awe of those…

Paintings of wonder framed with us in the gardener’s mind at spring, imagining those strokes of color and beauty of our lives bursting off the canvas at summer’s end.

Because…

God has all things blooming no matter where we’re planted.

USE Ayva smell flowers 3

CLOSER THAN A BROTHER  By Lori A Alicea

It is written…

there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.
Proverbs 18:24 NIV

Those friends who are brothers from different mothers, yet love the other’s family as their own.

They eat from each other’s refrigerators; they sleep on the other’s floor.

They argue as brothers yet remain and love as true friends,

as friends stick closer than a brother.

college buds

Friendships elevate one another with their belief in the other’s success;

Going low that they be lifted high.sand dune buds 2006 Jake and Rob on sand dunes jake jumping

Friendships rev the throttle of encouragement to push their brother further and faster down the pathway of life.

They are a ride for help when friends find themselves stranded along a dark and lonely road.

Friends are runners in each other’s races.

They train together for those triathlons which test the limits of a brother’s endurance of spirit when he’s forced to…

Swim against the tide of struggles…

Bicycle though the wind of adversity blows in your face…

And run a full marathon while you are weak.

Friends keep pace beside their brother’s race especially when the runner’s wall is before them,

as friends stick closer than a brother.

Friendships are those speeches of love and truth at your wedding, those crumbs in the forest to help you find your way when your compass has failed.

A brotherhood of words to remind you…

I’ve got your back…

I’m here for you…

You’ve got a friend in me.wedding - best man speech

True friends talk and think like the other; albeit to a grandmother’s anxiety.

Friends stroll thru and share the sights of fatherhood together; they are those fun uncles to their brother’s children.vacation dads together 2019 england hattabaughs in town hollis eli holding hands

Friends see the good, the beautiful, the noteworthy attributes of his brother, overlooking the imperfect weeds of his brother’s garden.

A friend is one who overlooks your broken fence,
And admires the flowers in your garden.
Author Unknown

The sun sets in the eyes of friends who share the other’s dreams, successes, failures and hope thru the lens of their God who loved them first as friend.vacation together

Friends stand at attention to the priorities and values of true success, holding the line to fight and protect their richest blessings …

God…
Family…
Country…
Flag…

Friends go to the ends of the world for the other, following them and risking it all up those treacherous mountains where it’s most difficult to breathe if need be.

Because friends don’t allow friends to climb thru life alone,

as friends stick closer than a brother.

A friend loves at all times.

A friend is always loyal,
A brother is born to help in time of need.
Proverbs 17:17 NLTmt ranier 1

A brotherhood of words to remind you…

I’ve got your back…
I’m here for you…

You’ve got a friend in me.

SERVING UNTO HIM  By Lori A Alicea

In serving others through hospitality,

Our kindness is as if we’ve done it unto the Lord.

Truly, I tell you, whatever you did for the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did it for me.”
Matthew 25:40 NIV

It is written how a wealthy woman of great influence prepared and set aside a small room in her house for a “holy man of God” to rest and be refreshed whenever he visited town.

Her kindness was greatly rewarded.

Her offering was as service unto Him.

8One day Elisha went to Shunem. And a well-to-do-woman was there, who urged him to stay for a meal. So whenever he came by, he stopped there to eat. 9She said to her husband, “I know that this man who often comes our way is a holy man of God. 10Let’s make a small room on the roof and put in it a bed and a table, a chair and a lamp for him. Then he can stay there whenever he comes to us.”
2 Kings 4:8-10 NIV

USE small table flowers

Might we show kindness in ways and to those God sends along our path.

We are serving unto Him in these displays of selfless generosity.

SERVING UNTO HIM
By Lori A Alicea

Dear Lord, you came to save our soul,
But first, You washed our feet.
On bended knee with towel in hand,
Your servant’s eye we’d meet.

Example that we do the same,
For those, the least of Mine.
A cup of water in My Name,
You’ve done it unto Thine.USE THIS PINK VASE 2

To serve those neighbors next to us,
And love them as thyself.
In homes where kindness can be felt,
Displayed on every shelf.

Hung from the doorposts of our home,
With open arms receive.
A neighbor’s welcome gathering,
Until it’s time to leave.USE Welcome sign

A table set before these friends,
Our bountiful we share.
No matter if a cup we serve,
See Jesus sitting there.USE Kitchen table

A place of refuge when they come,
Where home is always sweet.
We serve because He served us first,
When Jesus washed our feet.USE table setting

Our gift of hospitality,
A song He hears, a hymn.
When tea is poured and cake is served,
We’re serving unto Him.USE Serving stuff

Refrain to see an empty plate,
When God, a neighbors sent.
Prepare a banquet meal for them,
Of words, encouragement.USE Serving tray

Or give them what’s most valuable,
Which doesn’t cost a dime.
You’re sitting at the Savior’s feet,
When giving of your time.USE Clock

The church walls of the home we live,
Baked in, our memories stay.
Where in the midst of fellowship,
Is God to hear us pray.USE Church

Dear Lord, I’ve saved a room for you,
A lamp, a table, chair.
My Holy God I welcome you,
I long your presence there.USE Welcome signUSE small table flowers

Our gift of hospitality,
A song He hears, a hymn.
When loving neighbors as thyself,
We’re serving unto Him.

USE fireplace

COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS…Name them one by one! By Lori A Alicea

I can close my eyes and still remember as if it was yesterday.

A lighthouse known for its glorious steeple lifting its countenance upwards towards the heavens in praise, whose doors swing open into a haven of peace and refuge, an old fashioned church of my childhood.

DREAMS church home
Christmas through the eyes of this little girl is back at rehearsal for the Children’s play, whose classes all crowd together on the front row pews and wait their turn for the stage.

Nervous of performing before a church full of smiling parents, blinded by the camera flashes of these proud paparazzi, hoping the words of the songs she rehearsed won’t escape a child’s remembrance.

Dancing and sparkling through the stain glass windows is a private light show of its own, whose brilliance takes this child by her innocent hand to an evening where a star of wonder guides three wise men to a little town of Bethlehem to greet their Savior, our baby Jesus who lay in a manger.

So much to be thankful for during this holiday season.
Scripture reminds and instructs us how to be a little child of thanksgiving:

Enter into his gates with thanksgiving,
and into his courts with praise; be thankful unto him, and bless his name.
Psalms 100:4 (KJV)

Counting our blessings…
naming them one by one.

COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS sheet music
There are certain snapshots of my childhood recalled from the albums of my memory which take me back to the potter’s wheel, a place of molding, making and fashioning a little girl who would one day surrender her heart to Jesus.

An old fashioned church with an old fashioned pastor, a congregation of sheep who God sent to lead, to preach and sing often his signature song I still hear today in my memory, when Jesus left the ninety-and-nine for the one who strayed away.

PASTOR reverend nickel

This little girl grew up and continues to count her blessings for the pastors whom God sent her way after moving forward from those steps of an old fashioned church.

Pastors who fathered and loved a little girl back to life, whose marriage demonstrated true love “in sickness and in health.”

Pastors who led the way and took us with him to the mission field to pour into the orphans and widows; to also fight from the front porch steps of our country, whose precious jewel in his wife he shares with us as the first lady of our hearts.

Pastors whose love extends to sheep not from the flock of his own, who shepherds our children, our mother and family, who also performed the dedication of three of our grandchildren and remains a Pastor’s Pastor to us.

I count my blessings in the decades of quality time with friends who gather over breakfast once a month, who flood my cell phone with text messages of encouragement, who meet me at the gym while dawn still sleeps, and friends who take my call every Monday evening for an hour of “our time” together.

I name my blessings one by one through friends who met, worked, got into trouble together and are infamous as partners in crime. Friends who walked with each other up the mountain tops of love, glitter and marriage and held on tight through the valleys of divorce and death. True friends ringing my doorbell no matter the time of day.

I count my blessings in church friends who are more like sisters and gifts under my Christmas tree. They celebrate and grieve with you, my warriors in prayer who petition before God on my behalf. Love for them overflows from the cup of my heart.

How do I write that thank you card for this friend of over three decades. A former boss who remained my friend throughout life. A writing companion whose completed books have inspired my efforts to persevere for my first on the book shelf.

A true friend who lives states and hours away, yet attends your daughter’s wedding because I asked.

FRIENDS Mary Ellen

This little girl could stay in prayer for hours counting blessings, thanking God for a basket full of friendships in her sisters, daughters and Best Friend in Jesus.

COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS praying

Growing older and sadly watching the leaves of our life change and fall to the ground from traditions that used to be when mother was still with us.  Yet, I count my blessings for those new traditions which clothe my barren tree with new life and memories, celebrating with three generations of family.

A grandmother’s knees are worn from the hours of praise for those ten Christmas grandchildren who call her Gaga.

Never forgetting those children now grown, those born of my womb or born of my heart.

Remembering where it all began in God’s plan, gathered around the Christmas tree among my five sisters, brother and parents.

Sometimes being thankful isn’t wrapped around a lap full of gifts you can open.

This holiday season I am a child of great thanksgiving…

Counting my blessings…naming them one by one…

COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS sheet music
As I…

Enter into his gates with thanksgiving,
and into his courts with praise; be thankful unto him, and bless his name.
Psalms 100:4 (KJV)

As Christmas came early at the Alicea house, when I unwrapped the gift of another day with David, my soulmate of 27 years, when God intervened in a life threatening situation.ANOTHER DAY use

I don’t have enough hands to count my blessings this Christmas.

COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS praying

I would be re-miss not mentioning the summits this family stood together on many times over this year, facing the bitter cold, barrenness and eerie silence of life without the loved ones left behind on those frozen mountains of memories we’ll visit from time to time.

But yet, we still continue to count our blessings and name them one by one, celebrating the overflow of their lives spilled onto ours.

The holidays will never be the same without Joe’s homemade sweet potato pies, Reuben’s Christmas cards filled with a brother’s gush of handwritten sentiment, and me sharing mother’s homemade coffee cake with my brother thru the US Mail.

If nothing else this holiday season though, I am thankful for life, I am thankful for home.

XMAS HOME

While sugarplums still dance in my dreams for a long cabin or an old fashioned renovated church to live in…

I’ll keep saying it for the rest of my days,

Wherever David is, I’ll always be home.XMAS DAVID AUBREY

May this be a season of thankfulness for all of you…

Many thanks for your faithfulness to share in these weekly words of my heart.

I appreciate you more than you know.  A tree of ornaments in my heart has your names written all over them.xmas ornament

 

BEST BUDS FOR LIFE By Lori A Alicea

Ever had a best bud?
Ever been two peas in a pod?
Ever been stuck together like glue?

First they were cousins, now more like brothers.
Yes that’s Ethan and Brodie, Best Buds for Life.

It all began years ago at “cousin camp”; a weekly Friday night tradition where all the grandkids spend the night with Papa and Gaga.  When David and I became grandparents we wanted to create a library full of scrapbook memories during that small window of opportunity where the grandchildren still wanted to hang out with us.  When friends and sports become a part of their life, it will be our turn to pursue them for available time.

Ethan and Brodie became partners in crime the minute cousin camp opened its doors.  You never saw one without the other and quite the tears when half the duo couldn’t attend our Friday night sleepover.

brodie and ethan in window in pullup

At cousin camp there is no minimum age requirement to join the club.  These boys have had their diapers and pull ups changed together.  They’ve learned to crawl and walk as a team.  From tricycles to training wheels to full freedom on two tires , they have shared so much life together on Friday night.  Brodie and Ethan lay their sleeping bags side by side so they can wrestle and laugh and whatever boys do when nobody is looking.  Oh the times Papa would have to end the midnight crazies so everyone else could sleep.

Little boys don’t require much.  Give them a ball and bat and the movie Sandlot comes to life where an old fashioned neighborhood of kids get together for the love of baseball.  The laughs and cheers as these two swat the ball and round the bases like miniature Babe Ruth’s.

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

The boys are sprouting faster than a field of weeds.  They’ve outgrown their bikes again and Papa will have to hit the garage sales for summer replacements.  The parents can’t keep them in shoes and Papa and Gaga sense the Friday night window with them closing ever so slightly.

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

To date, cousin camp takes in six of our ten grandchildren, as four live out of town.  Our DC babies join our Friday night traditions whenever they come for a visit.  Our oldest grandchild is thirteen soon so our first cousin-camp graduation might be this year.  Just don’t tell Papa.

When cousin-camp closes its doors for good, it is our prayer as grandparents that our grandchildren enjoy turning the pages of their cousin camp scrapbooks every now and then.  That the intentional time we’ve sowed into these “gifts from God” reap relationships with each other into their adult lives.

May their cell phones always have cousin camp members on speed-dial.

May all ten of them be Best of Buds For Life.

buddies 1

OFF YOU GO
By Lori A Alicea

And off you go a cousin pair,
The miles in your car.
Remember where your Papa lives,
He’ll wonder where you are.

Don’t get too far or dare forget,
He’s crazy for you two.
So pick him up when think of it,
He’d love a car ride too.

THE CLIMB OF YOUR LIFE By Lori A Alicea

Ever been thrown a curve ball you didn’t see coming?
Ever knocked down from a kick in the gut of your blind side?
Life’s punches come out of nowhere when you least expect it.
A job loss!  Divorce!  Financial ruin!  The diagnosis!
You turn your back for a second and there it is, Mount Unforeseen,
forcing the climb of your life.

Nothing prepares you for the ascent.  There are no guarantees you will summit Unforeseen.  It doesn’t matter.  Recovery and healing depends on you walking, even if it’s up the side of a mountain.

Every long journey begins with a first step.  That foot placed in front of the other, mustering strength as you ignore the weight of your backpack, heavy from the loss of heart and hope.  The map of your climb measures a walk around the world; it’s just too much.  But it doesn’t matter.  You have to care.  Your loved ones care.  Be encouraged that others have climbed before you and kissed the moon from Unforeseen’s highest peak.  Heart and hope are worth that first step.  You’re worth it.
Start climbing.

BE NOT AFRAID.
A guide will lead you every step of the way.  You can trust Him.
He knows the way because “He is the Way…” John 14:6.
“The valleys are dark but there you will be comforted.”  Psalms 23:4
DO NOT FEAR.

BE ENCOURAGED.
While conquering mountains seem IMPOSSIBLE in man’s eyes,
With God ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE.”  Matthew 19:26

 “BE STRONG.
BE BRAVE.
BE FEARLESS.

You are never alone.”  Joshua 1:9

The Climb of Your Life Jake and Marathon 1

RUN THE RACE
By Lori A Alicea

The miles, the distance that you run,
The finish nowhere near.
From every bend and stretch of road,
For you, your loved ones cheer.

You’re not alone, these miles of steps,
Find strength to run the race.
Your crowd remains the finish line,
Until we see your face.

THE PRINCESS WITHIN By Lori A Alicea

Little girls sure love to play “dress up”.

A full length mirror reflects her show of heels, beads, purses and gloves, all compliments of mommies closet.  To catch a glimpse in every angle, hips sway from side to side as a private dance for one.  Practiced lines to her mirrored audience carry to a mother secretly listening outside the actress’ door.

A Star is Born.
But a Princess She’s Always Been.

Little girls of every age love to play “dress up”.  Though all grown up, that little girl stays behind for future productions of turnabouts, dances, proms and weddings, still addressing her mirrored audience for dress rehearsal.  Fairy tales and its fanciful glitter must be sewn into the dress, as Cinderella comes to life upon her runway reveal.

A Star is Born.
But a Princess She’s Always Been.

As a mother you always want your daughter to believe how beautiful she is.  These words are showered upon her newborn face and echo in the years that follow.  “Dress up” continues in her fashion show of bonnets, bows and patent leather shoes for every occasion; with the photo shoot to remember it all.

“Isn’t she lovely!”
The sentiment of parents, grandparents and family alike.
Of course she is; more lovely than hearts convey.

Sometimes though, lovely is clouded in the mirror of Cinderella’s eyes, when lovely is defined by the dress or what fairy tales we believe or told should look like.

A Star Might be Born.
But A Princess She’s Always Been.

From the beginning she was fashioned “fearfully and wonderfully” in her mothers womb.  Psalm 139:14.  In the hands of her Creator, the Most High King, she was formed in “the image and likeness of God.”  Genesis 1:27.  She wasn’t born in a dress.  She wasn’t conceived in a fairy tale.  “All the days ordained for (her) were written in your book before one of them came to be.”  Psalm 139:16.

A Princess She’s Always Been.

The Princess Within Rosalee with shoes

That Princess Within
By Lori A Alicea

Don’t ever run from who you are,
Our Princess in Disguise.
More beautiful you see yourself,
When seen from Father’s eyes.

 

 

 

IN THE STILLNESS By Lori A Alicea

As the sun slumbers giving the moon and stars their turn to keep watch, stillness hushes the night, putting to sleep the day we just lived.   The twenty-four hours present is now a page written in the past.  Those waters turbulent hours ago are now calm and the quiet of the night is whispering, “Be still.”

We all need rest.
Rest from our weariness.
Rest from our circumstances.
Rest for strength for another day.
Rest to hope again.

Night pulls back the curtains to the skies undeniable brilliance, reflecting its face from the mirrors of the waters below.

In the midnight hour, calm and quiet wrap their arms around you and peace settles as dew on the morning grass.

The One who set creation’s stage gently taps your shoulder and speaks,

“Be still, and know that I am God…”
Psalm 46:10 (NIV)

He is God, the one who separated night from day, spoke the sun and moon into place and named every star in the sky.

He is God as far as eyes can see.  We are witnesses to His signature left behind in nature’s intricate details.

He is God and ever present among us.  We’re never alone in the rough waters of day.  We have company in the stillness of night.

He is God.

No matter the storms,

…He’ll calm you with his love…Zephaniah 3:17 (MSG)

As quickly as day kissed the cheek of evening goodnight, the break of dawn will give birth to morning.  You’ll hear the cry of another twenty-four hours being born at sunrise, another opportunity to see God in the face of a new day, to experience Him in the Stillness, no matter the hour.

In the Stillness yellow flowers

A NEW DAY RISING
Lori A Alicea

A new day rises with the sun,
In Stillness might I see?
Attention paid to unseen blooms,
Much more He cares for me.

He clothes the grass and flowers all,
He tends my garden too.
His hand is near, he tends my heart,
Like spring, each day is new.

 “If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don’t you think he’ll attend to you…  Matthew 6:30 MSG