She Is Married!

 

I cannot believe it has been over a week since our daughter became a wife! She was simply stunning, a beautiful bride married to an amazing man! Here are just a few photos, I will post more as they come in. I was blessed to be part of the special day, from the makeup to the hair do to the I do! I shed only a few tears during the ceremony but the flood of uncontrollable tears came during the father daughter dance when my husband held her in his arms and they danced to Steven Curtis Chapman’s "Cinderella". I was immediately transported back in time, spring of 1992 she was only 5 years old. Her father and I had not even officially started dating yet but we had been hanging out.

As I watched them dance across the wooden dance floor I remembered that day in spring so many years ago when we were at the ball field waiting for the game to start and Tony was playing with Amanda, he was on his back with her in his arms and they were chasing lady bugs and I knew in that moment that I loved him because of the way he loved her. As they danced their dance, I could smell the green grass of the field as if it had joined us for the ceremony. I could feel the cool spring breeze enter into the moment, a gentle nudge from yesterday to remind me of how much my past was part of my future.



Even though I did not birth this child of mine, she is my child and the stretch marks she has left are not on my belly but across my heart. You could almost say we grew up together and I learned through her how to love unconditionally to forgive with out reservation and to look for the best in everyone. So, as she danced hand in hand with her daddy and I watched from the sideline I said a silent prayer of thanksgiving for the two of the most important people in my life. I learned to love because he loved her well. Thank you Tony and Amanda for being the best husband and daughter a woman could ask for. I love you both to the sky and back.



Cristina

Oatmeal makes me sad.

How can a bowl of oatmeal make me sad? Why do warm peaches, wet blueberries and salty cereal make me want to cry?

She would take the bowls out, I would pour the milk, she would measure the fruit and I would cook the cereal. I would grab the saltshaker and she would lecture me on my health. This simple habit was part of our morning routine for almost a year and the very reason why oatmeal makes me sad.

It is hard to believe that today marks five months since my mother passed away. It was just five short months ago when I said my goodbye. I recently wrote to a friend and shared with her that I think my crier is stuck. I know there is tears deep inside my soul that still need to be shed but I guess it is just not their time.


What if every single teardrop had its own purpose, its own ways of helping me walk through grief? Maybe shedding them too soon or not soon enough could force the very natural process of grieving for the what ifs and the use to Bs’.

I miss the sound of her shuffling feet the oxygen she breathed and the way she called my name when I left the room. I miss our morning routine, our prayers of thanksgiving and our trips to the pews. I miss our times in the garden and the warm cups of coffee we would sip as we sat in a booth sharing about the sermons we had heard.

I miss the way we would wind down the evening with the kids, a good book, a devotional and an evening prayer. I miss the smell of her perfume floating out of the bathroom and into the entryway of the house when she had just finished showering.

I miss how she would slurp through her straw and challenge me with her eyes. I miss how her life caused me to slow down and in the setting of the pace; I enjoyed more around me, from the relationships to the experiences because of her. Because of her, I learned to fold into the moment and treat every minute as a gift from God.

The greatest lesson I have learned over that last several months is that when I allow myself to dance with my struggle and embrace my grief, when I choose to enter into those two experiences with honesty and authenticity I become stronger for the next time I have to stand in the gap. Most importantly, what I have learned from the last five months is not to fear death and to trust life.

Nevertheless, oatmeal still makes me sad and fruit makes me cry. What I would give to have just one more breakfast with my mom.

Cris

Day Of Rest!

Today was my day of rest, my Sabbath if you will. Instead of taking off to the hills of Auburn, I decided to stick close to home and instead of going to Auburn, I created an Auburn moment just blocks away. With my journal in one hand and my computer in another, I headed to the local coffee shop and open shopping center to sit in the sun and soak up the surrounding.





Finding Auburn for me over the last several years has been all about pulling away from my everyday routine and just pressing into the ear of God. I write in my journal, pray, read and sometimes I might even surprise someone with a phone call.




Today, because I chose to stay rather close to home, I had more time then usual and I thought I would surprise my husband with a gift for his month of birthday. He was born on the third of the month, a great reason to buy him a gift and tell him how glad I was that he was born.




I do not know if I would have paid much attention to the fact that today was his month of birthday if I had not pulled away, another good reason to step away from the everyday routine as well. I was so excited when I realized that one of the things he has always wanted, at least over the last several months was a titanium crystal wine glass, as soon as the store was open, I was in there made my purchase and headed home to surprise him with his month of birthday gift. Needless to say, he was surprised with the gesture, front porch here he comes, new glass in hand and wine from his rack, happy month a birthday to you.




It has been a great Friday, relaxing and enjoying my weekly Sabbath, being intentional about breaking up my routine and finding ways to bless those I love the most. Now off to a youth rally with my teen. Hope you all have a great weekend, remember, do not forget to rest.






Cris

Going Back In Time!

Shalom!


His bed if you would call it that, was a plastic box hooked up to machines and monitors’ that took on a life of their own. I could hear the sounds of his roommates crying from their little plastic boxes as well, all just waiting to be held, fed or changed. The smell of sterilized plastic lingered in every corner of the room. The look in the eyes of the other parents coming to visit their new born babies told me I was not alone, that gaze of disbelief that anything that tiny could survive was written across so many of our faces.

His entry into this world was sudden and early and I was un prepared. They took him away from me as quickly as I pushed him out, he wasn’t placed in my hands but rather in their care. I got to see him once before they transferred him to another hospital. I was a new mother who had just spent months preparing for his arrival, hours for his birth unable to have anything to show for it, except an empty belly.

I knew that the best care for him we be at the Neonatal unit across town but that didn’t make it feel any less like I was being robbed of my child, I had not even been aloud to hold him when they wheeled him away. I begged and pleaded with my husband to follow the ambulance that was transferring our little boy from one hospital to another, fear of someone trying to steal him overtook my mind, I wasn’t thinking logically, I allowed my heart and my emotions to dictate my demands in the moment as I barked out orders not to loose sight of the vehicle that was caring my heart.

I had to spend one extra day in the hospital for recovery purposes, I dreamed about what it would be like to hold my little miracle baby in my arms. I had a deep sadness of missing this tiny human being that I had just met 24 hours earlier. How could I love so deeply and miss so badly someone I had only seen a few times?

The nurse handed me my release papers, and I checked out of one hospital and stepped into another. My first interaction with my son since our separation was through latex gloves and his plastic box. I placed my hands inside the latex gloves that were attached to two round holes on the outside of his incubator my heart longed to just reach inside with my bare hands and scoop him up and hold him close to my heart. Intellectually I understood the need for all the tubes, wiring and rules, I understood that my little boys life was in danger and every moment mattered when it came to his well being but my heart cried out to rescue him as my flesh perceived him being in danger.

The day finally came when I experienced my Shalom moment, when the tension and the presence of perfect pleasure collided with a deep inner and eternal harmony with the things all around me as I was allowed to finally pick up my little boy for the very first time. His body weighing just a bit over three pounds, less then a bag of sugar. His skin was thin and translucent and looked like it could just peel of his body if I wasn’t careful. His nervous system had not yet been completely developed so overstimulation could cause him severe pain. I had spent many hours studying about the care of a premature baby and I understood the need to be still with him in my arms so that I would not cause him harm. The experts had proven a procedure called kangaroo care, that when done just right, the child would thrive, their lungs would grow, their breathing would increase and they would be able to hold their own temperature, preparing them to be free from their little plastic box and ready to go home to their families.

The method also was known as skin on skin. I was prepared to practice this procedure for the very first time with my little boy. As I stood in front of his little plastic box all of a sudden in was just him and me. The sound of the machines faded into the background, the chattering of the nurses seemed to disappear and the anticipation of finally getting to hold, cuddle and connect with my child took over, my heart was beating fast, swelling with love for this child I had not yet held and longing to let him know how much he was loved. I carefully reached into his incubator, making sure not to move to quickly.

I slowly unwrapped him and undressed him down to his diaper, tears rolled down my eyes as I prepared to place him against my chest, skin on skin for the very first time. My nose nestled over his head, breathing in his sent. All of the worries all the fears seemed to melt away as I held my baby boy next to me, it was then at that very moment that I knew that all was well with my soul, Shalom!

Cris Perez-Nole

Navigating Through The Teen Years!

1. Listen well.

2. Ask good.


3. Pause often.


4. Start all over.


My daughter arrived home from school, plopped herself down on her usual spot and took on that usual look of “I need to talk to you.” Without saying any words the look in my eyes told her I was ready to listen, to give her my full attention. She opened her mouth and began to share about her day, her time on campus, in the class room and among her peers. She finished sharing as quickly as she began and in her silence I knew she was waiting for me to ask good. This is what I call being intentional with all I say, especially when it come to my questions.

I spoke up and my ask good was this, “do you need me to just listen or would you like my input?” and then I just paused and started to listen well all over again. In my pause she looked at me with a twinkle in her eyes and a smile on her face, her way of saying thank you for actively listening to me through her expression.

She continued to share and wanted my thoughts, we were engaged in an open dialogue that added to our relationship. I have learned that my pauses do not mean I agree with what she is saying but they do mean that I value her voice and the trust she has to share with me whatever it might be. The conversation ended well with her thinking about some choices she will have to make in the near future. I walked away from the conversation impressed at the way she has learned to communicate well.






The break down in relationships, any kind but especially that of teens and parents comes when there is lack of communication or miscommunication. If our children are in the learning years, then it is our job to teach them well, they were not born to communicate it comes with training, teaching and many hours of listening on the side of the parent.






If there is anything I am learning as I navigate through these years is that my parenting has become 95% listening and 5% speaking. I have learned that the most important part of the conversation has been the pause I intentionally take, it is there where I earn the trust of my children to speak into the situation.






If you are preparing to parent a teen or are in the middle of these wonderful years, please be encouraged to Listen well, Ask good, Pause often and Start over again. This will allow you to become actively involved in a positive way in your teens life while connecting with them through open conversation. It is amazing what our children are willing to tell us when we are willing to listen.

YES!

It’s not fair! I wanted to throw myself on the floor as if I were two years old again and just heard no for the first time. I wanted to throw out all I knew to be true and just bathe myself in a pity party, a full blown adult tempter tantrum was just waiting to be released.

That is when I decided I would go for a walk and get out of my own head, me, myself and I don’t usually do well there when I feel like I have been mistreated. Key word, feel, I hadn’t been but everything in me wanted to own that feeling as if I had been treated unfairly.


I had this wonderful day planned out with a good friend that required me to be away from my home most of the day, she lives an hour away and we only get to see each other a couple times a year. I had been looking forward to this visit all week, the anticipation kept me pushing through the everyday tasks I had to accomplish and treated this visit like the prize at the end of my to do list.


Needless to say, I was more then disappointed when my 15 year old daughter woke up this morning with a migraine and in need of being taken care of. I have come to appreciate the fact that for my teenage daughter, feeling taken care of means just being present with her. I knew what had to be done but I felt like crying inside, so many feelings and emotions were running through my head.



First one was one of being a victim, "look what has happened to me" another was anger then frustration and then I was worried about what my friend would think as well as the dreaded phone call to the school and her coach. Can you see why I had to get out of my head? All at the same time, the spirit is gently reminding me that this is my choice, this is what living in the "yes" to His call looks like. It was at that moment that I checked on my daughter, grabbed a water bottle and put on my walking shoes. As I left the house the first thing I told myself was that this season of resting and being home to simply support and serve my family is a choice, one I intentionally and joyfully said yes to.



Of course, I didn't take into consideration the planned out pockets of time I had made for myself when I thought my kids would be in school and husband would be at work. As I started to walk through my feelings, I chose to pray aloud for all that I was grateful for during this season in my life. Thank God for technology, people passing by me probably thought I had a blue tooth hidden somewhere as I walked and talked. The first thing I thanked God for was my home, shelter for my sick child, fresh clean water to give her as she is healing and for the fact that I, not someone else is there for her in her time of need.


I started to pray for a good friend of my who is in the same season in life and just the thought of her brought me peace knowing that I am not walking this rode alone. I prayed for courage over her yes, for patients and perseverance as she pressed into being not just physically present but emotionally present to these young people God has entrusted her with and then prayed the same for me as well.


As I arrived back home, I thanked God for using my friend in a mighty way to help me stay in my “yes” and not act like a victim when in fact I am blessed beyond words to be able to be here for my family. I love how God has surrounded me with other women who have intentionally chosen to live in their “yes” as well, running the race is so much better when done together.

Embracing the call!

We are on the second week back to school. One in Jr. and another in High School not to mention preparing for a wedding for our oldest. This is a new season for us as a family. I am embracing the call of being home and being present for my children when they walk through the front door as well as my husband. How do I do that? I have to say no too many things right now and yes to the most important things and that is Tony, Amanda, Sami and Vito as well as my extended family. I have spent the last several years serving and traveling and it was good, many God moments in the journey but when He calls me to stay, I must listen and listen well.




The benefit of obedience is the wonderful world of communication I see happening between my teens as they come home every afternoon prepared to answer the question “what was the best thing that happened to you today?” Sometimes there is just silence, which I have learned to be OK with but other times my daughter Sami who is almost 15 can go on for 45 min. straight without taking a breath. Well maybe a few inhales of oxygen but she can talk, she can share and I love hearing how her day unfolded and how she is choosing to live her life on and off campus.



With this shared, I must get downstairs and into my kitchen, the pots and pans are calling my name. My prayer is that I will continue to see this season as a blessing, what a gift it is to be able to be home with my family and available to them.



Cris