Carole Smith

My Prayer... Only You by Carole A. Smith Lord, Give me the will and purpose to keep my eyes only on you. Show me the path, you have laid out for my life. With your light, illuminate it… by day and by night. Guide me. Instruct me. Call me …by my name. Walk beside me Hold my hand... Carry me when I am weak. Open my ears and my heart so that I may hear your voice, Lord …speaking to me at all times. When you correct me, give me the strength to obey. When you praise me, allow my heart to receive. When you command me, give me the courage to follow your way. All that I have in this world is a gift from you. Let me hold it with open hands, facing upward …back to you. Turn my thoughts away from myself and from all the things of this world, So that I may focus upon And follow ... Only you.

On Sunday, Brett and I were snuggled-up on the couch talking. Haleigh, our 7-year-old first grader was sitting on the floor next to us with a notebook and pen in her hand. (She too has the burden of writing swelling inside her.) She loves to doodle and draw and write lists and letters and sentences and poems and stories.... and, and, and. We weren't really paying her any particular attention, but rather enjoying our time together in the same space, doing separate activities. That is when Haleigh asked if she could read us something she wrote. Of course we said “Of course!” She proceeded to read us a list of words that described her brother. I asked, "Do you know what those words are called?" And with a snappy response she said, "Yeah…, they are adjectives." in a tone that suggested Duh, who doesn't know that mom? Yes, I did say she was 7... Lord have mercy on me over these next 11 years! Brett and I were amused.   We all shared a good chuckle abo

She was a quiet and attentive listener, this passenger of mine.   She didn’t say much but when she did it was affirming and intuitive.   She had a gentle spirit that conveyed complete acceptance of everything I told her which encouraged me to open up more the longer I was with her.   I knew that everything I said to her would stay in the car, between us.   I knew that she had no preconceived judgments towards me or anyone I spoke of.   I knew that with her, on this new journey, I was safe.   I told her a lot about my old road, starting back from as far as I could remember.   I discovered that at times in my past, I was driving through the desert and had experienced expanses of mirages brought on by drought and heat and fatigue.   I became aware of this as she guided me along parallel paths to my old road.   During these times she offered to drive so that I could look out the window and observe my old road as a passenger.   This allowed me to focus, reflect, and truly see

The road wasn’t on the map, but…I can’t imagine one named Personal Discovery would be.   If it were, I wonder how many people would purposely take that road.   Most of us have a general idea of where we want to go in life, but few know the best possible route to get there.   The average person would say that entails the least amount of detours and the straightest, fastest path with the ultimate destination of “success”.   But just like trying to get to a home in a new development, sometimes the directions aren’t clear on how to get there.   Sometimes, the roads aren’t on the map yet.   So we find ourselves right smack in the middle of trying to figure out the way for ourselves.      An unmarked, uncharted road can be a scary thing but a familiar road can become mundane.   You start to wonder if there is another way… another course that possibly could lead you to a more fulfilling existence.   Most of these contemplations occur when you are weary.   You know that just ahead la

Have you ever walked by someone’s house and had to simply stop dead in your tracks to admire the beauty of their yard?   Their flower beds, bunches of color straight from the rainbow.  Their grass neatly manicured... each blade of grass precisely the same length, the colors all so vivid and rich.   ...Then after that first thought of beauty and awe that stopped you, silently, from out of nowhere, it seems, the coveting slips in.   I wish I had a garden like that.   I wish my flowers were so gorgeous.   ... Then the feeling of disappointment at yourself that you don’t or that you could never do that, you could never have that.   ... And then the feeling of bitterness that leaves a slight sour taste in your mouth.   ...And then the emptiness that leaves you feeling a little hollow and alone.   All in a matter of seconds, all with no conscious thoughts of your own dragging you down that dirty back road of your mind.  And then you begin your walk again and let the fleeti

All or nothing. Black or white. If it can not be done 100% perfectly than it will not be done.   Period. I crave organization.   I need things to be tidy, in place, neat… clean.   But I am overwhelmed.   I am tired.   I am in over my head. Sitting on the floor while my back is being warmed by the fire, I feel safe.   The heat from the flames envelopes me and gives me a sense of calm and peace as I write and the words effortlessly flow from my mind to the page.   At this moment, this sweet divine moment everything seems right… seems perfect.   But my eyes lift from the page and something small and white distracts me.   As my eyes focus more closely on the object I notice another and then another… tiny white delicate pieces of dog hair scattered randomly and haphazardly on the top of my dark pants like miniature needles threatening, jetting straight out into the air.   Soldiers standing at attention.   Flags of imperfection.   I am a failure. Small, tiny voice, s

It wasn’t until I had children of my own that I begun reflecting about my dad leaving.   When they reached the tender ages of five and three-and-a-half, I started to wonder about what exactly happened to me as a child that fateful day.   Maybe it was the fact that my daughter had some striking physical and personality similarities to me, especially when she wore her hair in pigtails.   Maybe it was the way she and her brother loved their daddy.   They would rush to greet him in the evening when he got home from work with squeals of laughter and delight yelling, “Daddy, Daddy… Daaaaddyyyyy!”   If his schedule was a little off – perhaps from a business trip - they would question me relentlessly about where he was and when he would be home.   As I considered my past in contrast with my children’s lives I decided to call my mom to ask her what happened to me.   After catching up with the current events of our lives, I dropped the bomb on my mom and asked “When dad left what did we d

  I truly appreciate the fact that Jesus was not alone on Calvary that day. The imagery of it is something to behold. If I am to be absolutely honest, I have to break the Crucifixion of Christ way down... I'm talking down low, into my human terms that I can understand, down even lower into selfish terms about me. It is my nature to put myself into another’s place and try to feel and understand what they are going through.   So when I see pictures of Jesus on the cross…alone…I immediately put myself there and the feeling of abandonment is overwhelming.   As a child abandoned, I know this feeling intimately. The fact that Jesus was not alone that day helps me participate in the day.   I can picture myself there, rightly upon the cross, just as the criminal admitted, “We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve.   But this man has done nothing wrong.” Luke 23:41 And then, take it a step further… the blameless One, there with me, actually speaks to m

I am preparing my thoughts and heart for the topic of Renewal as I plan for our church's Women's Retreat in a couple of weeks.  http://www.cornerstonespokane.com/Cornerstone_Community_Church/Home.html   One of my favorite things to do lately when I get a particular word floating around in my head is to look up the definition of the word and to look up the biblical references to it.   This particular word, RENEW… is packed full of great imagery and energy! Synonyms: freshen , recharge , recreate , refresh , refreshen , regenerate , rejuvenate , repair , restore , resuscitate , revitalize , revive , revivify Synonym Discussion of RENEW renew , restore , refresh , renovate , rejuvenate mean to make like new. renew implies a restoration of what had become faded or disintegrated so that it seems like new <efforts to renew the splendor of the old castle> . restore implies a return to an original state after depletion or loss < restored a fine

I have my Poetry Scribes of Spokane meeting today and our monthly assignment is to write an Ode. "O de: (ohd) 1. A lyric poem characterized by lofty feeling, elaborate form, and dignified or elevated style; a form of stately and elaborate lyrical verse. 2. A lyric poem usually marked by exaltation of feeling and style, varying length of line, and complexity of stanza forms. 3. A lyrical poem praising or glorifying a person, place, or thing." http://www.poems-and-quotes.com/article.html?id=609 Lately I have been falling in love all over again with my soon to be 9 year old boy Zackary. We had a date last night which included Red Robin for dinner, warm chocolate cake and ice cream for dessert (for him) and then I took him to the Y to watch him swim. We played hangman at dinner and his first phrase-challenge for me was to solve 3 words... I LOVE YOU. Without asking me to watch, he dove into the deep end of the pool and swam his fastest laps up and down the pool. At each

~ One, my mother, Two, my sister, Three, my brother… He left us… He left me. ~ Time, I suppose, does have its own way of healing wounds.   Just like I have no recollection of being told I was adopted, or that my dad was leaving the family, I also have no specific memory of being told my parents were divorced.   I don’t have a memory of my daddy leaving.   To my knowledge, he didn’t sit me down upon his lap.   He didn’t hold me in his arms. He didn’t crouch down on one knee and put his hands upon my shoulders and look me in the eyes to tell me he was leaving me.   As far as I know, one day when I was three-and –a-half years old, he left our house and never came home again. ... More to come! Excerpts taken from book I am writing: After They Leave, Who Will Love Me? A Memoir of struggle to find love after adoption, divorce and death

My mom and dad could not have children, according to Doctors.   After 16 years of marriage and no children of their own, they decided to adopt.   First came my sister born and adopted two and half years before me.   Then they adopted me.  Within the first month of being welcomed into my new family, my mom had a doctor’s appointment because she was not feeling well.   It turns out she did not feel well because she was almost five months pregnant.   Mom said that she was laughing and crying at the same time upon hearing the news.   Tears of disbelief and terror – how on earth was she pregnant?   The doctors had told her for over twenty years she would never be able to conceive children.   How was she going to manage three babies ages four and under?   Laughing for the sheer joy of being pregnant and the irony of the whole situation.   I have yet to laugh and cry at the same time in my life… and have found myself throughout life reflecting upon what it must be like to actually feel