As I work through the basement more and more, the same question keeps coming up
Why, so much stuff–duplicates, enough pans to bake 30 cakes at once (no lie!), enough fabric to make dozens and dozens of quilts, enough yarn to wrap around the world (ok, I didn’t do the math on that but . . . ), enough to scrapbook every memory since the beginning to time–Why?
I have asked God to show me what I need in my life and I keep hearing–you have everything you need. I have given you everything. I am always with you. be happy, be blessed, feel my love, be still, keep listening . . . I made you amazing and your friends–why can’t you all see that?
Ok, I get it.
One day when I was 7 I came home with my brother and found my dad dead on the kitchen floor.
That changes a kid.
That makes for an adult with things that need to be worked through.
My time is now.
I think one of the many reasons that I keep projects and plan projects is so that as I give things away–I’ll be remembered. I don’t want to be forgotten.
(yeah, I’m crying right now)
My dad was replaced by another man within 2 years–I don’t have anything from him–except the cabin that he built. I go to that place and I look at the walls and think about his hands building the walls that give me shelter, the roof that protects me from the rain–I fish for Pike and panfish–just like he did. When I am at the cabin I am with my dad. I tell my kids about Grandpa Joe.
The death of my dad was not handled very well. I struggled. I still do.
The death of my dad was the first step up a treachourous uphill battle of disappointment, abuse, more death, and a life spinning out of control. I can honestly say through it all I didn’t feel God’s presence. But I wasn’t scared either. (and I should have been afraid–very afraid)
Now that I look back on the crazy and unsafe life I lead–I know God must have been with me–otherwise I wouldn’t be here. Thank you God, for keeping me alive. Thank you for planning this life for me–in the darkest moments you were there shining–so that I could see my way out.
I still don’t want to be forgotten–but now I know how I want to be remembered!
The little girl who walked through hell with God, and came out giving thanks for each moment. That is how I want to be remembered!