Tag: Joy

  • Growing Pains at the Deli Counter

    Growing Pains at the Deli Counter

    I wanted to stop. To ask the man behind the deli counter to slice some cheese and lunch meat. I didn’t. I couldn’t.

    After all, I was raised that you don’t ask for help. Ever.

    The chill of the grocery side of the store dissipated with each step. Colby Jack floated through my thoughts while I set a bag of cat food into the cart.

    I found myself reasoning that the man did agree to certain tasks when he took the job at the deli. I would not be wrong to ask him to cut something.

    I circled back and waited while he helped someone else. Soon, it was my turn. “Could I get a pound of Colby Jack?”

    “Sure. How do you want it cut?”

    “I don’t know. Normal cheese thickness, I guess.”

    He smiled. Clearly, he realized this was my first time.

    I watched as the cheese piled up on the scale. One pound didn’t look like much.

    “Give me another pound.”

    He obliged.

    Applying what I learned with the cheese, I confidently ordered two pounds of lunch meat. Sympathetic to my inexperience, he offered to cut it to the same thickness as the cheese.

    “Perfect,” I agreed.

    Reader, let me tell you, first off, two pounds of deli meat is a lot. Secondly, meat cut to cheese thickness, is really thick.

    Internally, I laughed all the way to the checkout and wondered where I could share this accidental surplus.

    Did I fail in my first deli order because I had more than I needed? Absolutely not.

    Not only did I walk away with extra food, but I carried a good bit of self-confidence that I will be able to apply to other aspects of life.

    Also, I learned that it’s not wrong to ask for help. In fact, I found the opposite to be true. It is brave.

    How about you? Is there a place you have been resisting growth because it may cause discomfort? Maybe you’re unsure how to begin?

    I want to encourage you to step up to the moment and allow the occasion to strengthen you. Even if it doesn’t turn out exactly the way you thought it might.

    Be gentle with yourself. You’re growing, and that is worth applauding.

    Here’s to growing pains and cold cuts.

    In grace and peace,

    Sharon Rose

  • Had you noticed?

    Had you noticed?

    Had you noticed?

    That today is held together by a thread of gold and sprinkled with diamonds.

    I can hear you ask, “Where is the thread of gold and what of diamonds?”

    They were there linked together in a glistening sunrise. Stretching far across the morning sky. It was a silent plea to see the awe in the world that surrounds you.

    They intertwined to awaken your senses in the gentle breeze that caressed your skin and carried a bird song to delight your ear.

    The rain that fell upon you…it whispered one of the mysteries of life. Did you pause to hear it?

    A child may have invited you to watch this or watch me! Their enthusiasm was mingled with the gold in the invitation to remember. To wonder. To join their world and the enthralling excitement of discovery. And the child…the child is the diamond.

    They wrapped themselves around you tightly in tears by the graveside. To have loved so deeply is beauty all its own.

    Reader, this moment will never be again.

    Did you see the gold today, sprinkled with diamonds?

    In grace and peace,

    Sharon Rose

  • Contentment – The Secret of Enough

    Contentment – The Secret of Enough

    The breeze that brushed across my skin gave promise of the rain to come. The sky would weep tears of life today, but for now time was given in plenty to pick blackberries.

    Instinctively, I plucked a berry from the vine. A cluster of balls held tightly to a single core formed one perfectly, imperfect unit. There were a dozen hazy reflections of my silhouette on their dark skins. All offering a glimpse of my soul.

    I learned the secret of enough.

    Enough is the mother that births contentment.

    I had two one-quart baskets with me today. Sufficient for what I have need of. There was a time not so long ago that I would have brought multiple large bowls with me.

    I now stroll to the pace of plenty. I no longer have to force myself into the secret places of the briers and glean all that is hidden. Only to labor in storing berries that have no purpose.

    I no longer have an urgency to heap unto myself all that I can.

    Today I was able to place a berry in my mouth and allow my tongue the moments needed to search out the valleys that the swollen spheres had created. How the tender flesh of the berry gave way quickly under gentle pressure and offered the sweet flavor that is uniquely its own.

    It was in being present that I noticed berries expanding with life so much so that my soft touch caused them to spill their crimson stains upon my hand.

    I walked away from the berry patch brimming with peace…and blackberries – enough.

    In grace and peace,

    Sharon Rose

  • Three Word Story Challenge – Part 7

    Three Word Story Challenge – Part 7

    Faith – Love – Storage

    Words are so much more than a mark on paper or a part of speech to me. Each one is alive and is cloaked with an image. A picture I see in my mind. When they are strung together as a sentence a private film begins to play in my psyche.  

    It was no different when he prayed for me.

    I bowed my head as he talked to our Heavenly Father on my behalf. “Lord, I just ask that you would increase her faith.”

    Yes, faith is good. In the perception of my mind, I held out my open hand and received the package containing faith. I had a fly-fishing creel hanging on my shoulder, and I placed the box into the rectangular basket that rested at my side. It easily fell into the cavity.

    “Give her courage,” he continued.

    Yes! I need courage. With my hand extended a parchment that had been rolled up with a gold ribbon around it was placed on my palm. My fingers circled around it, and I put it in the bag. Even with these items it looked empty. There was vast storage for more.

    “And help her to understand Your love.”

    Love. A moment went by and my empty hand still hadn’t been filled so I looked up. That’s when I saw the back of a dump truck. With the gate open it began to lift, and love poured out slowly and then completely. I couldn’t contain it all! A mountain of love was formed around me. Covering me on all sides!

    I haven’t left that spot since. I am still surrounded by the love of my Heavenly Father.

    Reader, my prayer for you today is Ephesians 3:17-19 KJV. That Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith: that ye, being rooted and grounded in love, May be able to comprehend with all saints what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height: And to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, that ye might be filled with the fulness of God.

    In grace and peace,

    Sharon Rose

  • Three Word Story Challenge – Part 3

    Three Word Story Challenge – Part 3

    Kerfuffle – Run – Love

    Things like this can happen when you’re passionate. When each of us run toward our own victory. Even if it is absurdly in the wrong direction.

    We both saw the storm building. On the horizon and in the other’s eyes. The clouds continued to drape themselves with darkness until the day resembled night. Neither of us willing to buckle until a clear champion could be declared. That’s what brought us to this moment. Standing in the rain, in the middle of a kerfuffle.

    What was it that could draw out the depths of our soul to expose ourselves in such a way?

    Why, love of course.

    Over the ink and pad I can hear your sigh as I read the question in your mind.

    Isn’t love supposed to look different?

    Yes, but this reader is what love looks like when it is not in balance.

    Authentic love poured out is the clearest picture of splendor and beauty. It brings life, joy, and peace.

    However, love heaped upon oneself out of measure is putrid and rots. Quickly becoming a thick decay that devours everything it comes in contact with.

    Equally damaging is love not shared in balance between two. This will leave hearts wrung out. Like a dishcloth made void of water until there is nothing left to give. Dry threads begin to break form the continual twisting. A heart left rendered in two.

    In writing this, I hope that it may remind us to be diligent, and to remember that:

    Love does not strive to win; for it already has.

    Love can walk away from vain arguments.

    Love is secure and can listen intently.

    In the words of Paul,

    Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. 1 Corinthians 13:4-8.

    May we find ourselves working to avoid the kerfuffle’s and running towards the true love that flows from a pure heart.

    In grace and peace,

    Sharon Rose.

  • Remembering to Live

    Remembering to Live

    Water droplets sprang up from the mat around my legs. They jumped to meet me as my feet hit against the wet trampoline.

    My knees bent again, and I was pushed towards the sky. I couldn’t help but laugh as the butterflies that started in my stomach beat their wings and soared up, up, and up until they rested on my heart.

    This scene freezes in my mind as I hit pause. Friend, rewind with me if you will.

    20 minutes earlier.

    The morning had started out as a typical day. Warm air had accepted the invitation to flow into the house through the open screens. Golden rays from the sun heated swatches on the floor.

    Spring had arrived. She spoke clearly in her native language to come and play.

    The children are far more sensitive to her silent plea than I.

    I find that my ears have grown dull to her cry. While the voice of expectations yell over her whispers to live.

    Groans filled the room as textbooks were flipped open. Each page seemed to speak softly of an agreed protest as the next assignment to complete was found.

    “Oh great. Now it’s raining. I’ll never get to play outside. My life is ruined.” My oldest child whined.

    I joined his gaze and looked outside. Sheets of rain blew in at an angle.

    I turned towards him and said, “Go, jump on the trampoline.”

    “What?” He laughed. “You can’t do that!”

    “Why not? “

    His silence proved that my question had obstructed his logic.

    “You always want to jump with the sprinkler under it. You have the sprinkler of heaven on for you now. There is no lightning. Go jump!”

    Both of my sons stared at me bewildered.

    “Go! Play!” I yelled enthusiastically.

    My youngest son had squirmed in his chair and now laid in it. His stomach rested on the seat, and his arms and legs drug the floor as he swung them. He held his head up and asked, “How do you know that we can?”

    “It’s one of the things that I am remembering.”

    Those were the words that ignited them to action. The house absorbed the heavy, hammering of their feet as they rushed out the door.

    The momentary silence was quickly drowned out by the breakfast dishes as they made their demands to be scrubbed.

    My mind began to race while I watched the sink fill with water.

    I’ll give them 10 more minutes to play. I still need to pull something for lunch. There’s that appointment this afternoon. I looked at the calendar. Next week…how am I going to get all that finished?

    Muscle memory took over as I washed and rinsed plates. The soundtrack of laughter that played from the backyard had become background noise.

    And then I heard it. Go jump with them.

    I will as soon as I finish the dishes and…

    Go, now. Jump with them.

    I abandoned the dishes to a blanket of bubbles that rested on top of the murky water, and I ran across the yard.

    Their laughter heightened, “What are you doing, mom?”

    Then…

    We jumped…towards heaven as part of it fell upon us.

    We bounced…until our inside tickled, full of butterflies.

    We laughed…until our cheeks hurt and our breath became labored.

    We Remembered.

    We Lived.