The phone call came at about 4PM on a Thursday in May 1997.  I watched my kids playing downstairs as I heard my foster daughter’s caseworker tell me that her parents had agreed to give Grandma custody of her the next day.  Court was at 10 AM. I was told to pack her clothes. She’d be picked up for transfer right after court.

First, a wave of shock hit. I had already adopted two boys, and this little girl had been in my home for about two years. I had hoped I could adopt her too. Her one -year-old half-brother slept in a crib in their shared room. 

I called my attorney and was told that the courts frowned on attorneys attending these types of proceedings, so she wouldn’t go with me. I was on my own, and as it stood, even I wasn’t invited to attend.

I called my friends and got some prayers going up for wisdom.  I remember thinking, “God, I don’t know what’s going on, but You do. I trust You.” 

The next day my boyfriend (later my husband) came to the courthouse to support me.

I met Grandma who was seeking custody. She wasn’t interested in raising her grandson, so I brought her only photos of her granddaughter.

When Mom arrived, I approached and gave her photos of both children. She seemed nervous.  As I sat on the bench in the hallway the caseworker came around the corner; he looked surprised to see me. I asked him who the legal guardian was for my foster daughter. He pointed her out and when he left, she and I talked.  I told her that I was concerned about splitting up the kids. She only had the one case file and didn’t know about the brother. She agreed that they shouldn’t be separated. Then asked me if I was interested in adoption. I told her yes, I wanted to adopt both if possible. She bluntly told me to speak up in the court room and to tell the judge that.

When I explained that I wasn’t invited to the proceeding and didn’t think I’d even get a chance to talk. She repeated, “You MUST speak up in court.”

Moments later we were all ushered into the court room. I stood on one side of the caseworker and Grandma was on the other.  Mom stood on the other side of the room, as we all faced the judge. The legal guardian was closer and perpendicular to the judge. She had the ability to see everyone from her vantage point.

The judge acknowledged everyone by name except me, but without looking up he did mention that foster mom was here. He then asked for Dad to be brought in. Dad entered with two police escorts, shackled hand and foot. He took his place between Mom and Grandma.  The judge light heartedly quipped, “Let’s get this show on the road.”

I silently prayed while things progressed. The stenographer typed away as information was tossed about. Then Grandma hesitated. She wouldn’t give her address. He asked her a second time.  Grandma said her daughter had stolen from her and didn’t want her to know where she lived. Then Grandma and Mom began yelling. Mom and Dad began to argue. More policemen poured into the room.

The chaos was reminiscent of a comedy show, only the room crackled with hostility. The judge banged his gavel again and again yelling over the crowd, “Order in the court.” Finally, when he could be heard, he said, “I don’t like this stuff in my courtroom, and I don’t have to take it. In fact, I’m not going to tolerate it. Case dismissed. Everybody out!”

As I followed the murmuring crowd into the hallway, there Dad stood alone with his two guards. I asked if I might talk to him. I explained to him who I was and how wonderful his little girl was. I apologized that I had no pictures with me to share. He gave me his name, and I promised to send him some.

Six months later an order to terminate parental rights came through for both kids. This time we, my new husband and I, met Dad at the proceedings. (Mom didn’t show.) The letters and photos I sent helped him to release his little girl into our life-long care. He signed the paperwork with tears in his eyes.

Today both that little girl and her brother bear our last name. The blessing of my children greatly outweighs the challenges of the struggle that day. Even little ol’ me can stand up against the giant of the unknown and through prayer receive the victory!

Foster-care was indeed a rich blessing for me, and it is still a vital need in our community. It’s not an easy path, but there’s so much love. I’d encourage you to pray and investigate this option if you’re looking to expand your family. Thanks for listening.

Blessings,

~Debbie G

#FostercareStory #ChooseAdoption #ChooseToLove

Small beginnings, it’s a great way to learn. I started this webpage years ago, long before I began speaking to groups. I was a busy working mom, and it was a good outlet for my contemplations.

Now I’m learning the skills needed to post videoblogs. Just like little ones learning to walk, it’s a learning process, but I will soon gain speed.

Hope you’ll head over on the video tab and watch my newest video; I call it ‘The Art of Walking.”

So glad you checked in.

Blessings,

~Debbie G

#LittleStepsBigChange #changingpatterns #learningtolean

In today’s vernacular it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted anything. I moved twice in seven weeks this summer… does that earn me a bit of grace?

Honestly, being back in full swing in my writing chair has been utmost in my heart, but precious time with family and other obligations needed to be balanced in. So here I am, late-February a bit rusty, but eager to connect again.

I’ve got much on my mind, but with so many changes I thought I’d start with that topic. New beginnings… not a ‘do over,’ as much as it is adjusting to a new space, new neighbors and honestly, not knowing where a lot of your household items are anymore.

After selling my house, I tried apartment life for a bit. But after a year and a half, I’m in a new house. Do you know what the key feature was that I was looking for in a house? Could I fit my large family inside this house for holidays? Yup, it was family.

I ended up in a new area, not too far from friends, where I could still meet weekly with my lady study partners. And honestly, I was surprised that within 2 months I have 4 new neighbors joining us each week as well.

There was not a lot of planning on my part, but certainly I’ve been brought here for a reason. And it’ll be exciting to watch these friendships unfold in my comfortable little corner of the world.

I guess my takeaway is: that even when life hits a bit of turbulence, we may discover a blessing as the waves settle. Lots of hard work and walking through an open door lead me here and I feel blessed already! I hope you have some exciting plans on the horizon too!

Be blessed and be a blessing!

~Debbie G

#hotminute #WelcometotheNeighborhood #FromBumpsToBlessings

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;
 in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight. Proverbs 3:5-6

I’m not sure why my husband bought me teddy bears, but he did. One little guy was white and looked quite grand in his black sequined vest. He clutched a heart shaped pillow, embroidered with the word ‘love’, between his hanging paws. Teddy lived in a house full of kids, and eventually both paws fell free. I could have reattached the pillow, but I never did. It was a choice I made.

Unfortunately, life doesn’t come with a ‘do-over’ button. And choices have consequences. Looking back, you may wish you had chosen differently, and often the best we can do is learn from the past. When the change is beyond our control, sometimes it means shifting gears. In driving, it is a one-step process, you’re already moving, and the goal is to smoothly increase or decrease speed. But life transitions take time, especially when faced with unexpected heartache.

Honestly, when I lost my husband after a five-week illness, I told God that I wasn’t interested- NOPE, change that… I told God I would follow Him anywhere, but please NO more marriage for me. Don’t read anything into this about the state of my marriage. It was wonderful, God-honoring and I was richly blessed in our years together.

Suffering loss after a long illness drains you emotionally. Death is always difficult, but the repeated waves of rising hope followed by difficult news is exhausting. You fight emotions, people’s well-intentioned comments, and often lose the battle and begin playing the game of ‘What If.’

Then comes loss. It’s a fifth gear slam to full stop. Emergency brake applied! For me, there was no brain connection at this stage. Very little computes. Nothing in life to compare this to. Call it brain fog. The only way forward is shifting into neutral, and to let others push you though.

 Healing? Oh healing… ever seen a someone learning to drive a manual transmission? Spits and sputters, and constant engine stalls. Eventually getting the rhythm of depressing the clutch in unison with moving the shifting knob.

In my loss, my heart was like that teddy bear, my hands now hung loosely. There was no repair for a missing heart. We both simply had to learn to live without it.

 I believe my comment to God about not wanting another marriage was because I needed to decompress. To relearn how to live solo again. Eventually I got my engine running smoothly again. Now it was my schedule. My plans. My comfort level. 

The last time my pastor had mentioned how good his marriage was during a sermon; I silently reminded God, “That’s good for him, Lord, but not for me.”

When I heard this reply, “But what if it’s not about you. What if he needs you to complete the work I’m calling him to do?”

Man, did that bring my refusal to the forefront. In essence, God was saying, ‘I want you to be willing to go where I desire you to go’. It only took a few moments for me to agree to ‘be willing’ to do what He called me to do. Not that I believe that God was indeed bringing me marriage, He just wanted me to be willing. To yield to His plan for me.

So for the past year I’ve mostly been running from any interaction with men. Avoiding eye contact. Clinging to my comfort levels and disappearing anytime I feel the possibility of a connection. Yikes! I wasn’t very honest in my agreement to be willing, was I?

Last week I confessed to my study group my hesitation and my new commitment to not run the other way anymore. Being willing to engage in a conversation was a good first step, right?

 Two days later at a gathering, I sat at a table with a couple I knew. A few of their acquaintances joined us and soon after one man, about 15 years my senior, asked me if I was married. It was like being hit with a spotlight. I spluttered that I was a widow.

After expressing his condolences he asked, “Would you like to get married.” I think I physically gulped. Then I lied! I told him I hadn’t really thought about it. I followed that by saying that I was happy in the state that I was currently in. And as soon as was most naturally possible and in my ‘running away’ fashion, I removed myself from the table and I didn’t return.

Yes, Teddy now has a comfortably running engine with what appears to be empty hands. But he also knows that the Good-Gift-Giver has never failed, and His hands are always open. Teddy has filled his days with adventure, his arms with the people he loves, and is open to conversation on most subjects!

How’s your engine running, friends?

~Debbie G

#shiftingGears #soloAdventures #willingtobewilling #teddybearheart

Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. 1 Corinthians 13:7

Show me the way I should go, for to you I entrust my life. Psalm 143:8b

It was last spring during a life change that I decided to sell my house. Suddenly alone and tending to more property than I could handle, I was contemplating my next season. Living on the water and being blessed with a dock held a unique challenge for me when a tree floated downriver and lodged itself there.

“Oh Lord, that’s not my job.” Wait, I guess it is now.

With shovel in hand, I easily walked the tree down the dock, but when I got to the end, I had to give it a good shove and silly me, both the shovel and I went in for a dip. (In April- brr)

Lord, are you baptizing me for the next season?  And that was my decision-making moment.

There are three shining moments I’ve been contemplating this month. I guess my early spring dip was the catalyst.

It wasn’t the first dip in the Jordan River, nor would it be the last, but it was and still is the most significant one in history. It was pre-planned, purposeful, and symbolic. We glimpse the first shaft of light when John, baptizing many unto repentance, reluctantly agrees to this special request. The Spirit of God cascades down from above and a voice from heaven declares relationship with this man emerging from the sea.

The second spotlight comes on a mountaintop amid close friends. First his face and clothing begin to glow, then historic heroes of faith appear and again an authoritative voice from the cloud asserts affection for the man accompanied by a command to, “Listen to Him.”

Our final scene of illumination arrives amid a silenced mob gawking at the tortured man draped on the tree.

This time His internal light darkens as does the noon-day sky above as life leaves His body.

This time the earth shouts as it quakes, and the dead witness to their own resurrection as tombs releases these holy people.

And this time it was His executioner we hear exclaiming, “Truly, this was the Son of God!”

Three testimonies and three shining moments exhort us to action: A dip of repentance. A charge to listen to Him. And to strive to be His living witnesses until He returns.

 Who YOU say He is; is THE ultimate decision-making moment… determining one’s eternal destiny. 

Shining the light…

~Debbie G

Matthew 3:14-17, Matthew 17:1-5, Matthew 27:45-55, Romans 10:9

#HolyDip #LivingWitness #DecisionMoment #JesusShines

A month. It’s a long time. I know, because I’ve lost one.

Here’s the answer to a question I ask later: Learning to love.

My eyes saw her from afar. A dear friend. I saw the shakiness, her fragility. The ‘just get through this moment’ spirit she unknowingly exuded. I recognized this as it was where I was a mere week prior. My physical, mental, and emotional life had become a shadow. They weren’t gone, only dwindling. My mind couldn’t discern what I had to do next… how do I become stronger?

I was surrounded by my children, my church and my friends. I made it day by day. Practiced my driving skills again- yup, I can trust myself to drive. I can grocery shop. Doing small things helped to reconnect my brain waves to the words in my head. Staying up for hours trying to explain to myself what happened.
I knew the physical was connected to the spiritual, but I couldn’t make it ‘make sense’ in any way other than by it being two separate entities rather than the overlay I had known it to be.

Hospital. ICU. Ventilation. Isolation. Reality check, how did I get here? Why am I so confused?

The answer was that life took a left turn. Turning left isn’t always a bad thing, sometimes it’s just a new direction. The unexpected happened. Life is now different. I cannot change it, so I won’t dwell in the land of fantasy. I choose to live in today with the hope of a good outcome ahead.

My main reason for writing isn’t a lost month. Although that is pretty significant. My heart has been moved by expectations. I was surrounded in love, encouragement and prayer. I never really felt alone. Which I must say is pretty awesome. But in the midst of all that comfort came being blind-sided. That was eye-opening. That came with expectations.

I ran into fear, not my own, although I do battle that enemy with a mighty spiritual sword. I bumped into other people’s fear, and it was as if I had hit a relational wall. My fragile emotional stamina emptied itself into a muddy mess, and I grieved even more. The loss of connection. The changes that hovered in the distance that it created between myself and the people I loved. You cannot know what others have focused on nor what their hearts have absorbed. And the unknown can be a scary place.

How do you battle a fear that is not your own? I’m not sure that you can. You can accept that that’s where they are at the moment. You can love them from where you are.

So here I was today, in a whole different setting. I looked up and there she was teetering herself into a seat at a funeral. In her essence, I recognized my own recent state of weakness. Yet this week I was a bit stronger. A little further on in this recovery journey. I knew this because my vision had cleared enough that I could see her. Her sphere was so limited she could not see me from a few feet away. Her family had taken a left turn just as mine had. Did she, in her weak state, bump into someone else’s fear?

Oh, how my heart desired to connect with her. To show her love in the tangible expression of simply sitting and listening. Sometimes the journey through pain morphs into being able to comfort someone who is just a step behind you in their season of trauma. And we did connect more deeply than before.

So, what’s the question that I already answered? Here it is: ‘What is the purpose of life?’

 It is said that time heals all wounds, I counter that with a caveat: time can heal all wounds when you add forgiveness. And learning to love means trusting that other’s hearts are still good even when they respond in fear.

Be encouraged. Strength grows bit by bit. And the comfort you received can be a blanket to others.

Blessings,

~Debbie G  (2021)

If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which accomplishes in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we experienced. -2 Corinthians 1:6

Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. -Ephesians 4:32

Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love. -1 John 4:8

#ComfortTheHurting #ForgivenessHeals #LearnToLove #MyLostMonth

In an effort to get back into my writing chair, I spent some time rereading some dreams in my dream journal. Honestly, there was a specific one I had in my mind to share. I lost track of time as I discovered many I had forgotten about, and a few I simply could not remember at all. I’m not surprised by that fact. And for you to catch hold of why this is, let me explain. 

About the time I began single-parenting, first my two kids, then add in the adoption of my foster children, and the dreams began. Busy mom, busy brain, and not a lot of time to process life or spiritual issues. Some were guiding dreams. Others convicting ones. A few profound, you might even say déjà vu type dreams in the past, but the significant dreams started a few years ago.

I only captured a few dreams in written journals in the early days, but when I began this website, I began documenting my dreams in earnest. These days I tap my dream out into my cell phone before I even get out of bed!

I wrote a previous blog called, ‘Feeding the Babies.’ It was a reminder dream that I had many writing projects started and I needed to stay focused on them. (it’s on the website- check it out)

Which brings me back to the rereading of some old dreams. After about an hour, I still hadn’t found the dream I was looking for. I was shocked to discover that I was only on page 15 out of 60. 60 pages of dreams!

Now, if you read this far, I will share with you the dream I had Saturday morning. Note: I always start my journal with the date and time, ending it with a summary of what I feel the dream means. This one is definitely one for everyone to consider.

Dream: 2/10/24, 3:11 am

I walked into my bedroom. There was a full sliding glass door, no curtains. The room was luxurious with glass ornaments hanging from the ceiling. (much too ornamented for my tastes) And I found broken glass on the carpet, realizing that my new swirly-shaped glass ornaments had been broken. One had been a teal-blue color, the other a red.
I saw my son, (a gentle, quiet-giant of a man) outside, through the sliding doors. He was standing near another building looking off into the distance.

I beckoned him to come, and when he opened the slider, I accused him of rough housing with his friends and breaking my items. He tried to respond, but I stopped him several times. When he did get a few words in, he said, ‘No, you don’t understand.’  I slapped him across the face. He continued speaking, ‘… a storm. And there’s an even bigger one coming,’ I ended up slapping him 4 times, alternating cheeks trying to get him to stop talking.

He finally stopped, and I said something to the effect of, ‘No excuses. Now go get a vacuum and clean this up.’
He left the room for the vacuum. The end

My analysis: I believe this is a warning dream about holding onto things that seem precious, and in not believing the truth. Refusing to listen to the impending storm warning. (This is for all people to wake up… and time to sound the alarm.)

…

Final thoughts: In real life I would not slap my son, so I’m certain this dream came because I hadn’t shared the previous warning dream I was looking for. I will definitely find that one in the next day or two to share on here. I must say that my dreams have morphed quite a bit from being personal to some that I believe are for everyone to ponder.

I do not understand all my dreams, but I log them anyway. I had one in February 2021 that when I reread it in January 2022, I understood it. It was the revelation that my husband would be taken from me. He died in November 2021, a mere nine months after the dream. I’ve learned to pay attention to them.

I do not to post to scare. I believe we can be warned and directed in dreams. And this dream warns of a coming storm and to not ignore the warnings, and to listen to the truth tellers. If I’m prompted again to share, I will post them on here. With the other warning dream to be posted here this week.

Rest well, my friends. I wish you sweet dreams!

Blessings,

~Debbie G

Matthew 16:3- And in the morning, ‘It will be stormy today, for the sky is red and threatening.’ You know how to interpret the appearance of the sky, but you cannot interpret the signs of the times.

Joel 2:28- “And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my Spirit on all flesh; your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, and your young men shall see visions.

 #StormWarning #ProlificDreamer #ScadsOfDreams #DreamDelegate

The group was huddled, bent over to see what was under the tree… what a vision that awakened me! For many homes around the world this is a picture of Christmas morning. Wondering which gift is for me?

Could Christmas be more significant to me? To my family?

As I wrapped the numerous gifts that a large family necessitates, I made sure I knew why I had purchased each one.  I included four elements in each one. The first gift would be something to remind them of their covering. They were once under the umbrella of our family home, but now are scattered and so unique in their settings. I said a prayer that they would be covered by God’s protection in the year ahead.

I added an element to honor their feet. I know, I’m a practical gift giver… but they usually don’t complain. I wanted for them to remember that we stand on solid ground. That we can climb to great heights, and I wanted to cover their walk in the warmth of good news that we carry.

I added a little cash as a reflection on the richness of a heavenly King born in a dark lonely stable. The stark image of a pauper-born King coming so that the poor of earth might live in richness forever.  

And finally, I’ll encourage them to grab some of the sweetness I’ve prepared for this day in celebration of the joys of ending the year together. It’s also a reminder that His Words are sweet, and to taste of His goodness.  I also sought out individual scriptures for them to hold onto in the coming year.

Although these are earthly gifts under the tree, I seek to focus our huddle on the significance of the birth of the royal babe.

Hopefully as my loved ones walk into the year ahead, they’ll know that they are covered by my prayer that the Lord is guiding them to His light with His Light.

Be still for His presence is still shining for all who will see.

Blessings,

~Debbie G

Suggested readings: Covering: 1 Peter 4:8, Psalm 91:4, Feet: Psalm 40:2, Romans 10:15, Ephesians 6:15, Riches: 2 Corinthians 8:9, Sweet: Psalm 34:8, Psalm 119:103

#sweetGift #umbrellaCovering #PauperKing #ChristmasHuddle

Honestly, it was impressive. I instantly connected with the shot. It held thoughts of nature, the mark of love, and a reminder of damaging pain. It was a photo of a paper birch tree with a heart cut into its bark. Time had aged the engraving. The gap had widened. The marking was a deeper tone than the trunk and the grooves had curled with the seasons.

You’ll catch me in my free time outside with a camera, capturing the beauty in my surroundings. Sometimes it’s a glorious sunset, other times I find a tiny flower stretching up higher than its neighbors. But trees, somehow, they speak to my heart. Perhaps it’s because they start tiny in the dark then break out into the light. They stretch their arms to the sky, almost in worship. And their branches spread wide providing shade or a refuge in a storm. They remind me of man’s life journey and how I desire to live.

So, seeing this bark permanently branded with a shout of love to the universe excited me. Imagine feeling love so strongly that you want to memorialize it. But my next thought was of the scarring.

Deep wounds… bad relationships can cause those, resulting in a recoiling, much like the rolling part of the bark. And a desire to move as far away from the gouge or the pain as possible. The scabs of life may heal, but deep wounds scar, leaving a permanent mark. A reminder of brokenness. In relationships, it can mean we’ve been so damaged that we are unwilling or unable to go there again.

The tree, with the heart-shaped cut, is still doing what it was designed to do. It is growing taller. Pointing upward. Providing protection. We too can continue living. Loving is what makes us tick. And loving deeply means our wounds can go to the core. In bad relationships these scars can be viewed as a lesson with the shout of our resilience. And in good relationships they can be a beautiful reminder that we have loved, and we continue to press on.

Perhaps my affinity for trees comes from a singular tree that held Ultimate Love with metal spikes so many years ago. That tree also shouted and still resounds to the universe and to all who will listen that Love Himself lives on.  And in that I will say there is great beauty in some scarring.

Blessings my friend,

Debbie G

Suggested reading: John 20:27-29, 1 Peter 2:24, Isaiah 53:5

#BeautifulScars #Resounding Love # LoveLives #ShoutingTree

You’ve hit a rough patch, You’re out of options. You turn your eyes to Him and are surprised that His eyes are already on you. Opening God’s word, you ask for wisdom, and he promises to give it.

When you read a powerful scripture aloud somehow the atmosphere hears his words. With your voice, you are aligning yourself with HIM; with his kingdom and his power. He says, “Ask me for My answer.” You listen, waiting for his response. Sometimes it is an overwhelming ‘in your face’ open-door answer, but often it means waiting in silence, sometimes for years as he moves things into position for His perfect response.

And if that’s you. If you’re in year number three and are still waiting, keep in the Word!  Keep washing away the impurities we’ve picked up from the world around us. Stay focused on walking rightly and when that door opens, we’re going to fall down in worship, overwhelmed that the Creator of the Universe thought so much of little us to give such a wonderful gift.

One name for God is El Roi. It translates into ‘the God who sees.’ Well friend, El Roi sees you. He desires for you to know him and he’s never too busy that he doesn’t respond to a heart looking to him.

The deepest honor we can receive is the honor God gave to Joseph. First, He gave him the dream. Then came the years of silence as Joseph was rejected by his brothers, sold into slavery, falsely accused and imprisoned. Then when we read that Joseph rose to become the second-highest man in the Egypt let us not make light of the silent years. Joseph continued to walk righteously without friend or family in a foreign land. God was aligning the world and used these hardships to move Joseph into position for the prophetic dream given to Joseph to come to pass.
So, if God is trusting you in a time of waiting, be encouraged. His silence was an answer to that faithful young man, and it can be shouting that He’s working things out for you too.

Provision for the vision.
Rights for the righteous.                                                                                                        Favor for the favored.

Food for thought. Blessings,

~ Debbie G

Genesis 16:13 Hagar- ‘the God Who sees.’

Genesis 37 Joseph’s dreams and siblings, followed by the silent years. Genesis 47 Reunited with his father and brothers.
#Waiting #SilentYears #PurposefulAlignment #TheGodWhoSees

There’s a place inside me that feels that if something was once mine it should always be mine. Like a comfortable old sweater, you don’t consciously think about it. You slip it on. It keeps you warm. It’s worn so often it’s like a second skin. Recently when asked how long I’d owned the sweater I realized that I’ve been wearing that thing probably close to a couple of decades. I could I blame my dislike for shopping, but the truth usually runs deeper.

Some friends were gathered at my home and one of the brassier ones told me my clothes were baggy and I needed to go shopping. I became a ‘project of sorts’ as another friend was assigned to take me shopping and to make sure I got some ‘stylish’ clothes. I must admit after sifting through my limited closet selections that owning some of my new purchases felt nice.

There was difficulty in parting with my old clothes, especially if they were gifts, but as they no longer fit, photos would suffice for memory’s sake and off they went to the donation center.

Perhaps it was that filtering through my closet months ago that helped me in my recent move. Downsizing is never easy. So many decisions. Some days I was ruthless and things I hadn’t touched in years flew out the door. But a tiny tin angel made the cut. And why was I keeping an air conditioning unit when my new place had central air?

Okay, the a/c was practical, and I only kept one when I owned four, just in case I needed one in my next move. Well, it made sense to me. And the angel is tied to a friendship which elevated its value. It was a gift during a difficult season, and it reminds me of my friend’s love and to pray for her.

Culling things that have no ties other than that they belonged to someone you loved is trickier. My husband’s collections of tools, acoustic equipment, and computer gear really meant nothing to me and were fairly easy to pass on to others. But a few of his sweaters, his cards, and a generator I’ll probably never use came with me. Sentimentality is tied to the heart.

The hardest gifting was his guitars. He owned several and for years played weekly on a worship team. These instruments held the melody of our early years together. I hold the image of me pecking on a keyboard while the notes of ‘noodling’ filtered through our home. (his term for mindlessly practicing chords or finger picking)

One of his last guitars was gifted this past week. When I discovered that a young man would use this guitar to lead worship in Texas, I sent it off with a prayer. The thought that his guitar would continue to make music in the house of God eased the transfer.

Settling into this new season is challenging. I’m still learning, as we all should be as we age. I’ve discovered that letting go is easiest when you focus on the gift you were given and appreciate it for the season it was yours, rather than the space it takes up in your home.

If you’re having difficulty letting go of something you cannot keep, there are wise words about not storing up things that rust. There is a time to keep and a time to let go. The true treasure is already locked away inside, close to our hearts.

Sending blessings as I settle in and let go. 

Debbie G

References: Matthew 6:19-22, Ecclesiastes 3:6

#GuitarGift #TreasureoftheHeart #LastingMemories #LettingGo #Sentimentality