I’m like a dandelion in the wind. I’m blowing every which way.
I don’t know what I want or where I’m going or where I belong.
That’s where you come in, Lord.
Please direct me, show me, give me a sign.
Do I hold still, do I move on,
do I keep floating like a wish in the wind?
Do I continue to let the gusts propel me?
Do I let serendipity decide what to do with me,
do I let luck choose where I will land?
I don’t want that anymore.
Lord, I want you to guide me. Guide me, direct me, show me.
Please, give me a sign I can’t ignore.
You may have noticed sweet Jesus, I don’t have a plan.
What is your plan for me, Lord?
Are you crazy? Not yet? Well, you can always try motherhood! It worked for me. Okay, so most women love babies. Women are attracted to babies due to a very basic, maternal instinct. Reason and logic are only slightly involved in this picture. The longing to have a baby is so strong in most women that those who can’t conceive are devastated. Babies are so precious, all soft and cuddly, and they’re even more adorable when they start to smile and coo.
Additionally, there’s no sweeter fragrance than the aroma a baby sends forth, fresh from his bath, swaddled in a Downy soft blanket. Combine that with the essence of Johnson’s baby powder and rare would be the woman whose hormones could resist the “maternal urge.” You visit your friend and her new baby one afternoon. When your husband comes through the door that evening you say, “Oh honey, I…
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I decided the best way for me to celebrate Mother’s Day is to share some of my mom’s writing. I used to write a newsletter and my mom contributed poems and articles on a regular basis. I love you, Mom, and I know that even though you are playing with the angels, you still watch over me. Love, Jeanne Marie
A NOTE FROM GRACE
When my children were growing up and got into their “teenage problem” years, I’d become exasperated with them. I’d think, “They’re just like their father!” Then, one day the light dawned on me, (Marblehead) because after taking a hard, honest look at myself, I realized; they were just like me. The me I had suppressed and hidden deep inside, where no one else could see. I was as wild and rebellious as they, but I had put up a shield of adult perfection, striving to become…
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She changed after he died and God knows, she was strange enough before his death, but then he died and she melted into nothing, shuffling down the hallways clothed in someone else’s skin and we all realized that we were losing her and there was nothing to be done because we could see that her soul had fled with him into the death tunnel, even as her lungs continued to breathe and her blood continued to pump, even as she slept, as she walked, as she drew breath; yes, this woman in our mother’s body was now a stranger and even though we had all suspected that she still loved him as much as she hated him, we really didn’t know and we couldn’t have imagined the depth or the width of her self-imposed restraint and we never saw the chains that she had wrapped around her feelings, no, not…
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She used to climb apple trees
with fearless abandon
never worried how she’d get down.
She used to run in fields of grass
without a care in the world.
She used to hide in the flowers
inhaling the nectar
never fearing a sting.
I’d like to invite that girl
to come out to play.
I’d like to reclaim her
travel the path back
to that courageous girl
she who once lived free.