The peace rose planted by my front door has one bloom and sixteen buds. SIXTEEN! I can’t quite believe it! I chose this rose bush the first spring we lived here, way back in 2002, because the house I grew up in had a peace rose planted there. At my childhood home there were roses in an array of colors planted to the left of the front walk: red, coral, white, yellow, even a blue rose (really lavender), and peace. It was this peace rose, and its amazing beauty that comes in varying shades of yellow with white edges and a hint of pink blush, that was the only rose my dad commented on every time it bloomed.

“To shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace.”
—Luke 1:79

Before walking Blue this morning, I read this passage of scripture along with a devotion dated July 7. I loved the whole message, but my favorite part was the reference to a “path of peace.” Upon our return home, the dog and me, I photographed the peace rose bush planted to the left of the front walk at the house where I’m the mom. Then I stepped upon the butterfly adorned welcome mat that my sister insisted upon and walked through the front door into home. I’m always thankful for found moments of quiet, calm and peace, since with two growing up fast boys there are many times that noise, chaos and commotion reign. I love those zany times too. I do!

July 9, 2013

more

an early morning fog hovers
thickest by rooftops
chased away by streetlights
and yet stars twinkle through
Light shines from Heaven above
saying, “I Am here”
even in the dark, quiet, stillness
of an early morning walk
with that dog I love so BIG
God loves me more

November 21, 2012

I am in love with the light this fall. This morning’s sky looks like a pastel drawing. And yes, I hung out of my oldest son’s second story window to take this photograph from above the treetops. I took the screen out long ago for moments such as this. Just know, it’s better in person. Changing in brightness, hue and warm orange glow before my very eyes. I’m greeting the sun with a smile on my lips and good morning wishes for you. ~ Janean

October 17, 2012

Some things never change

Dear Reckless Girl,

You met my husband yesterday at work. He was on patrol, so that’s not necessarily a good thing. He told me about you, in the late afternoon stillness of our house, on a Sunday afternoon. No names. No identifying data. That’d be confidential and it still is.  

I’d been sort of napping, while the dog woofed, the phone rang and the children were next door, at the neighbors. I kept my eyes closed as he told about how you were woken up rather abruptly on Sunday morning, after a wild night of partying with college boys, yet you’re still in high school. 

I listened. I heard. I thought back to over 20 years ago. Some things never change. Damn it. Why can’t they change for the better?! 

Why can’t teenage girls, with a woman’s body and a girl’s heart, have enough self esteem and strength of character to resist this cycle of drinkin’, flirtin’ and gettin’ naked when the weekend rolls around?! Today’s Monday, and you’ll be sittin’ pretty in your high school honors classes, perhaps whisperin’, grinnin’ and gigglin’ with your best friend about your wild child escapades. 

Next weekend will be much of the same. It’s a cycle. An ugly one. A hurtful one. It hurts on the inside, where no one can see. You’re hurting yourself, not those you are rebelling against. You. You’re hurting you.

What seems so fun in the moment is just a temporary escape. The dark of night only lasts so long, to hide your secret self. In morning’s light you’re still you, with effects from the night before lingering as a reminder.

You did those things. Now, face yourself in the mirror. That’s right, look into your eyes. Yep. There it is. Just as I thought. Hurt and brokenness, covered up with sass and feigned bravado. 

I don’t know your name. You don’t know mine. But I know your teenage heart that yearns for true love, and your mixed up head that’s so smart in book learnin’ durin’ the week and so foolish in choices made on the weekend. Some things never change. Damn it. 

It’s up to you. You have to break the cycle. Oh, it won’t be now. You’re having too much fun…or so you think. But someday, instead of drinkin’ until you’re so trashed you don’t care who you get busy with, you’ll meet him. And odds are good that it won’t be at a bar or a drinkin’ party. He’ll love you for your head and heart and well, as a bonus he’ll think you’re kinda sexy too. 

For now, just think about it. I hope you have good friends. The kind who can tell you when you’re being too reckless, even for them, to hang out with. The kind who know the whole ugly truth but love you anyway, because they just do. 

Love,

Someone Who Cares