Memoirs of a Moorings

Dreaming Like New York (repost)

I LOVE me some Tyrone Wells. LOVE him do you hear me? I discovered him singing his heart out one early Saturday morning at a swap meet here in Southern California. I stopped dead in my tracks and just listened to the soulful melodies floating out of him so effortlessly--a sweet little tune called Sea Breeze. I bought his albums and have been a fan ever since. He truly creates music that matters. Fast forward almost a decade later and this dude has created quite a following. I'm happy to say I've been there to watch his rise!

I'm bringing up Tyrone--not just because I adore him and think you should too--but because he's written the song that has become My Song. In the January 2007 issue of Real Simple there is a great article on finding your life's theme song. I didn't think I had one until I turned on Tyrone's "Dream Like New York" for like the 20,000th time. A light bulb went off--that's my song--the one that gets me motivated and out of a rut. And the one that Rhyan doesn't protest about from the back seat. Check out Tyrone's website to take a listen if you like. It just might become one of your favorites! The lyrics are below. By the way, what's your song?

Dream Like New York

So many dreams come and go
We blink our eyes
Time flies by we don’t know
What ever happened to those childhood years?
When we thought we could fly
We got to keep those dreams alive

And dream like New York 
As high as the skyline
Aim for the stars above those city lights
I want to dream like New York 
I’m running down Broadway
I got to catch the next train 
I’m making my way

Race to work again today
From nine to five
I only strive to stay awake 
But the child inside me 
Dares to believe I still can fly
Can’t let those dreams just die

I got to dream like New York
As high as the skyline 
Aim for the stars above those city lights
I want to dream like New York
I’m running down Broadway
I got to catch the next train
I’m making my way

How many times have u tried and failed? 
Have you watched your dreams slip away?
Well every hero falls and every soldier crawls.
And every dreamer dreams again
Got to dream again

Go on and dream like New York
As high as the skylines
Aim for the stars above those city lights
Go on and dream like New York
Run on down Broadway
Catch the next train
Go make your way

Go on and dream like NY
As high as the skylines 
Aim for the stars above those city lights
You got to dream like NY 
Run on down Broadway 
Catch the next train 
Go make your way
Go make your way
Go make your way

 

Fun House Mirrors

"The folks who hate you, they don’t know you. What they hate is whatever fun-house mirror image of you that’s out there, and they don’t know you. And so, you don’t take it personally … I think that by the time you get here, you have to have had a pretty thick skin. If you didn’t, then you wouldn’t have got here."

That quote was spoken by President Barack Obama yesterday during an interview with Bill O'Reilly. I was struck by the imagery of the fun-house mirror.

It 's so true that many times people who dislike us don't have an accurate description of us.

The same is true on the flip side. Sometimes folks fall in love with our fun-house mirror image. You know the one you show off on Facebook or on your blog. It's so easy to project the image you want people to see.

I take great comfort that God can see past all that straight to the heart. "For the LORD searches every heart and understands every desire and every thought." I Chronicles 28:9

He knows the true image behind the fun-house mirror...and He even knows why we project those images. With that, He still chooses to love us.

Heart Heavy for Joanne Heim

The internet is amazing place. It enables you to cross paths with people you wouldn't otherwise get to meet in everyday life.

Tonight my heart is heavy for a sweet lady whose path I crossed online. I "met" Joanne Heim through her blog The Simple Wife quite a few years ago. She immediately became one of my favorite reads and people. I loved everything about her: her love for God and His Word; her approach to motherhood & her focus on friendship & the simple things of life. I would leave her comments ad she would hop over to my blog and share a comment.

A gifted writer, I devoured her books, Living Simply and Misplacing God: And Finding Him Again. We eventually started a virtual friendship through blog comments, email messages and Twitter and discovered we both had a love for the music of Tyrone Wells. (Anyone who loves the music of Tyrone Wells is a kindred spirit. On more than one occassion, she'd drop me a line to let me know I was on her heart and that she was praying for me.

Last week, this 38-year-old wife and mother of two daughters had a major stroke and is lying in a coma tonight. Seems one day hasn't passed without her on my mind. There's been a steady prayer on my heart and lips for her and her family.

We promised each other that the next time she was in Southern California, we would meet face-to-face to share a hug and maybe a cup of coffee. I'm praying that God's miracle working power resurrects her and restores her so that one day that meeting can take place.

If you feel led, please say a prayer for sweet Joanne.

Her husband has taken over her blog and provides regular updates here.

 

Simply because....

...there's nothing cuter than a little boy in a tie.

We All Need A Dance

"The LORD your God in your midst,
The Mighty One, will save;
He will rejoice over you with gladness,
He will quiet you with His love,
He will rejoice over you with singing.”

~Zephaniah 3:17

Mommy giving baby Shayne a kiss & a twirl.

Parenting is hard work. It can stretch us to our breaking point leaving us wondering if we are capable of such a emotionally taxing task.

Sprinkled on top of the hard work are moments of joy. I often look at the boys after they stretched me to no end and my heart bubbles over with love for them. Crazy how that happens. When they were babies, I remember picking them up and twirling them, dancing with them, singing over them. Though picking them up now is harder, there's still opportunities to grab their hands and dance and sing over and with them.

Dancing is inherent in us as humans. We danced on chubby toddler feet when we saw our parents. We danced on teen toes when we found out the crush was mututal. We danced on our wedding day in celebration of love. We dance over our children...extensions of our hearts.

And as we dance over our babies, God is dancing over us. The book of Zephaniah opens with God angry at His children for their disobedience and rebellion. Then, suddenly, God's stomping gives way to joyful singing as the Father dances and sings over His children (Zeph. 3:17). I think He looked into the faces of His children and was overcome with love...He just couldn't help Himself.

What an awesome thought that God dances and sings over us....right where we are. Even after we've messed up. Even when we think we aren't all we need to be. His dancing is an act of delight.

My heart melts at the thought.

Even more so...my heart melts at the thought that we can share that same feeling with those in our lives. Who can you sing and dance over today? Your children? Spouse? A friend?

Go 'head, grab their hand and give them a twirl. Show your delight & appreciation in them. It just might be the very thing they need.

I know I did.

 

Losses Are Survivable

Last year I wrote an email to my future self Futureme.org and it arrived today. I was struck by how encouraged I was by my own words. 2009 was tough. This year was tougher. But I declare that I'm climbing out of the rubble. Here's what I wrote to myself:

"Speaking at his father's funeral this year, Ted Kennedy, Jr. said, "my father taught me that even our most profound losses are survivable and it is what we do with that loss, our ability to transform it into a positive event, that is one of my father's greatest lessons. He taught me that nothing is impossible." Our most profound losses are survivable...I'm praying that as you read this that you have survived and are thriving. With God all things are possible. As I sit here on 12/31/09, I'm so uncertain of what the future holds. The only thing I'm certain of is that pain has been constant. I'm going into 2010 and the new decade trusting that God is going to restore what the enemy has stolen and make all things new.

I'm struck by another portion of Ted Kennedy Jr.'s speech: "But today I’m simply compelled to remember Ted Kennedy as my father and my best friend. When I was 12 years old, I was diagnosed with bone cancer. And a few months after I lost my leg, there was a heavy snowfall over my childhood home outside of Washington D.C. And my father went to the garage to get the old Flexible Flyer, and asked me if I wanted to go sledding down the steep driveway. And I was trying to get used to my new artificial leg. And the hill was covered with ice and snow. And it wasn’t easy for me to walk. And the hill was very slick. And as I struggled to walk, I slipped and I fell on the ice. And I started to cry and I said, I can’t do this. I said, I’ll never be able to climb up that hill. And he lifted me up in his strong, gentle arms and said something I will never forget, he said, I know you can do it. There is nothing that you can’t do. We’re going to climb that hill together, even if it takes us all day. Sure enough, he held me around my waist and we slowly made it to the top. And you know, at age 12 losing your leg pretty much seems like the end of the world. But as I climbed on to his back and we flew down the hill that day, I knew he was right. I knew I was going to be OK."

Sometimes heartache and sorrow builds roots in us in a way that normal living cannot do. Not sure how God is going to use what's transpired this past year. Or if He'll even use it at all. All I know is that I must keep stepping....and I'm speaking into the future that I'm going to be more than OK. Trusting that my future self in walking in light, love and God's divine purpose for my life."

Losses happen. But you and I are going to be okay.

Three Spectacular Years

Our baby turned three on December 12...looking back over his little life..and smiling.

 

Three Years With Shayne from AntraciaLMoorings on Vimeo.

Remembering Daddy....

"God pours life into death and death into life without a drop being spilled."  ~Author Unknown

Today marks the one-year anniversary of my father's death. This has been such a bittersweet week. Just a few days ago, I celebrated my first-born's 7th birthday. So crazy how life and death can be butted right up next to each other. Such is life...a blend of love and loss. Grief and joy. All rolled into one.

I miss my father more everyday and everyday in such different ways. Mostly, I hate that he's missing out on his grandson's lives. He loved them most. One day I hope they realize just how much.

Today I'm looking back over life with my daddy and honoring him in my own little way.

(Much thanks to my sister for providing many of the picutures.)

~Remembering Daddy.... from NONSuperwoman on Vimeo.

Happy Birthday to My Big Boy

Celebrating my first-born in video and pictures on his 7th birthday. Such an honor to be his mommy.

 

Relationship Resurrection

At the time of this writing, it’s been 9 months since my dad took his last breath. Nine months since I stood at his bedside and watched his cancer-ridden body struggle to survive in between painful breaths. Nine months since I kissed his warm skin and saw his eyes search the hospital room until he found my face. Nine months have passed since I got that call from my teary-voiced mother that my father no longer existed on this earth.

So much got buried with my father. His hearty laughter. His brilliant smile. The gentle way he said my name. Family history that we’ll never know. So much dies when a father passes away. And truth is—a big part of me died that day.

Ironically, a big part of me also came back to life. You see, at one time the relationship between my father and I was dead. It was like Lazarus in the Bible—wrapped in grave clothes and buried behind a heavy stone. I hated the man my father had become: selfish, at times mean and withdrawn. It wasn’t until years after I moved out on my own that I discovered my father had been living with a drug addiction. He was a functioning addict. One who went to work every day; cleaned up nice, smiled and waved at the neighbors and won people over with that smile of his. But I knew the ugly secret and I hated my father. Never wanted to speak to him again. Wished him dead even.

:::

Finish reading over at (in)courage