Sheri and I met in college. We were on the same floor. The thing that initially connected us was that we found out we had been attending the same retreats called: Sought Out. These camps were unique in that the whole weekend was spent falling in love with Jesus and Him touching our hearts. We shared this experience. We figured we had been at the same camp at the same time, never meeting.

I have memories with Sheri of Cinnabon runs after a long evening of studying. I realize now that those Cinnabon night led to the cinabuns that I have to this day, “Thanks a lot Sheri.”

Sheri was such a good soul. I can remember hanging out in my dorm room with a few girls and a boy kept buzzing our room so that he could see my roommate, Beth. Beth would say, “Sheri go tell him I’m not here,” and Sheri would respond, “ok, but you need to leave the room so I can say that in truth.” That was Sheri.

As each of you know and have your own stories, Sheri was a caretaker. I can remember sleepless nights when my homesickness left me feeling so lonely. I would go to Sheri’s room and my sister in Christ would scoot over and say, “Crawl on in Shell” (that was her nickname for me), just so I could get a few winks before the morning.

I can remember Sheri and I contemplating our futures and praying that God would direct our paths. At one point Sheri thought she would possibly be a missionary. One day she came to me  and said that she had determined one thing for sure for the direction of her life,”that I am to bloom where I’m planted.” This was truly Sheri’s life. Whether she was teaching, mothering, with her family or friends, or simply at the grocery store, Sheri bloomed where she was planted. Sheri sent out an amazing fragrance and touched whoever she was with at the moment. I thought it was so appropriate that there will be a flower garden in her honor that will remind each of us to bloom where we’re planted.

My most recent encounter with Sheri’s tenderness was when I had to do what felt like one of the hardest things. I had to tell my daughters that we were moving from their home of ten years. I felt overwhelmed and I can remember calling Sheri. I’m not even sure of her exact words but the spirit of the conversation was that it was all gonna be OK, that it was gonna be better than OK, it was gonna be good.

You know the thing is my friend Sheri isn’t here to call, in my deep sadness. But I know Sheri. And I know what she is saying to me. I know what she is probably saying to each of us, “It’s all gonna be ok, it’s gonna be better than OK, it’s gonna be good.” And I say, “OK, friend. I love you.”

Today on the way home from church I was asking Cambria about her class and what she learned. She said that she learned about Jesus dying on the cross and there was blood dripping from his hands and His head.

She said,”mommy let’s pray for Jesus that He won’t bleed any more. You keep your eyes open and drive and I’ll pray.” I agreed.”Dear God help Jesus to be better and not to bleed anymore. Amen.”

Somewhere with in me comes this surge of physical power. My  feet move the pedals twice as fast as they had just been going. There is something in those words that kick me in to high power and my body does something I didn’t even know it can do.

My thoughts are so loud in my head that I almost think I say them out loud (maybe I do),” What in the heck! What else can I do? Bring it on!”

It was a rough week. Wait a minute. It was a rough month. Marissa was 11 years old and starting a new school. We thought that Brooklake Christian School would be a great option for her especially because she was my shy child and the small environment would be of help.

I now know the schools  size, height, color; whether blue, or pink, could not help to calm Marissa as she started her new school. She struggled and it was painful to watch her. I can remember planning lunch dates to help her get through each day. We took her to see the doctor for her stomach aches and even kept her home from school more times that we probably should have. We tried everything.

I don’t know when or where it happened. There was no reigning down from heaven moment. It was simply a slow, steady process of accepting the new place. God did send a special friend, Nicole, who helped Marissa to feel more at home.

This brings me to this new school year. Once again Marissa is starting a new school, Columbia Jr High. This time going alongside her friend Nicole who has never experienced a new school. This is as big a step for Nicole, as moving to Brooklake was for Marissa. The good news is that Marissa understands how it feels to be the new kid and she can be as good a friend to Nicole as Nicole was to her. I’m glad they have each other.

Tacoma School of the Arts had a 3 day camp at the start of each school season. The idea was to get kids comfortable with one another and to make friends. Well Cambria being her cheery, confident self went up to an upperclassman and introduced herself, “Hi, I’m Cambria.” Then came his response as he mimicked her in a high-pitched tone,”Hi, I’m Cambria,” and all his friends laughed. The conversation degraded from there and she was verbally harassed on and off through out the weekend. Though I will say as uncomfortable as this was, she had a few friends rally for her.

This was not how ‘my faith’ pictured her first week of school to be. It was hard to make sense of the events that happened because there was a part of me that felt that if God led me some where or asked me to do something that He would provide peace for my kids.

Well that brings me to this week. Cambria is at her second year of SOTA camp. She was voted Treasurer and her and a team of students have been meeting for weeks now to prepare for this event. Her negative experience has created some real insight and caused her to have a vision for the incoming sophomores.  I just got a text from her that reads: Really fun being older and making sophomores feel better.

I was on the phone with my mom when the girls started distracting me with conversation surrounding a caterpillar they had found. Soon their talking turned to tears as they discussed having to let the little creature go.  I excused myself to my mom, explaining the motherly duties I had to attend to.  When I walked over to my daughters I found them both sitting on the back porch sobbing uncontrollably as they tried to talk to me.  Between the sobs I found out that they were sad that the caterpillar might die if they tried to keep it and yet they were devastated at the thought of letting it go.

I tried to stifle my giggles as I somehow managed to comfort them. I couldn’t help but think how being a mom feels somewhat like the emotions of two little girls having to set a caterpillar free. In my journal I asked God to help me to  know how to let Cambria and Marissa go so that they could learn to fly in this world and to become all that He intended them to be.

This week as I’m sending my daughters back to school I am reflecting on moments past and present that require me to let go. I will be posting more on this to come. Hope you will stay tuned.

“We can never judge where we will be tomorrow by where we are today. ” – by Melody Beattie

]]> http://rainymay.com/2010/07/02/309/feed/ 0 rainymay fall-road http://rainymay.com/2010/06/30/my-converse/ http://rainymay.com/2010/06/30/my-converse/#comments Wed, 30 Jun 2010 13:37:36 +0000 Michelle Harris http://rainymay.com/?p=272 ]]>

I can’t remember how long I’ve had these black Converse with the leopard backs.  I wear them practically everyday and get so many comments on how fun, cute or stylish they are. I do know that I bought them at Ross, one of my favorite discount stores.

Unfortunately I have a disease. It’s  called, the bargain illness. It’s incurable, though I’m not sure this always a bad thing. Everywhere I go to purchase something I am looking for the best price. I have refused to buy something at the grocery store knowing that I can buy the item for a dollar less at the “other” store. The challenge with this is that I don’t always get to the “other” store and when I get home and don’t have the recipe item, I am frustrated.

Probably the worst part of this disease is when someone points out something I have purchased and they must patiently listen to me explain where I got it and the exact price I spent. I am always so proud.

So about the Converse. I got them for 9.99! Can you believe it?

About a month ago I was digging through my garage determined to find a set of silverware I thought I  had. No luck. In the process I found a familiar box that Scott had made in junior high wood shop. I opened it up to find old love notes and movie stubs from me, that he had saved.

My mind began to whirl and I decided to make him a scrapbook with each of the letters. I gave it to him for our 21st wedding Anniversary. I knew he would be thrilled but I did not expect the amazing reaction of pleasure that he gave me. Don’t tell him I told,  but I think his eyes were glistening a bit.

We spent the rest of the day together. We started at Maltby Cafe for breakfast and shared the Bella Scramble. Then it was off to Kirkland where he found a coffee shop and I found a fun consignment shop and of course I didn’t leave empty-handed. From there we headed to a fun sidewalk cafe with a view and ordered some baked brie to go with our brews. The waterfront park was full of activity and it was entertaining to watch all the movement.

As if that wasn’t enough food for the day we ended by eating at a Sushi restaurant in the International District. My mouth is watering just thinking about the Tempura crusted tuna rolls that we ate.

I’m so fortunate to have found a guy who is so fun to hang with for a whole day and even more so, is willing to plan the day just for us. I’m just wondering how I can make every day my anniversary!

To sing about God’s love when I am hurting feels as if it is not the truth at all.

A question comes to mind: Is God’s greatest love demonstrated when we are in pain or when we have many earthly blessings being bestowed on us?

A couple of years ago we made a decision to follow God’s voice. In being obedient we had to ask our children to leave their home and friends, trusting that this decision would be the best for all of us, in the long run.

I, in all truth, have not had a harder moment, than inflicting pain on my kids with that decision. To think about it still brings tears to my eyes. To watch them sob in sadness was so much to bare. To walk along side them in the weeks and months to come and see their grief caused me to grieve deeply.

It makes me think of God. If we as earthly parents feel anguish when our children hurt, how much more does Jesus feel pain.

I think sometimes He knows that to deliver us from our pain or situation may not be the greatest act of love, though as humans we are sure that it is.

His greatest act of love is often allowing us to remain in the painful situation, while His heart is breaking for our suffering.

As a human parent I make educated guesses as to what is best for my children. God knows what is best and cares enough to feel me hurting and sit with me in my sorrow.

Isaiah 53:4