Last weekend my husband Don, my adult daughter, Stephanie and I drove 3 hours to spend the night and next day with our son Dan, his wife Felicity and our precious grandchildren, Jesse, Claire, Ada and Macy. They live 5 + hours away, and sometimes we start missing them so much we all decide to meet in a city half-way between our homes. We stayed overnight in a very trendy hotel and spent the next day browsing shops and purchasing special gear for the children. Though the time together was short it afforded special times of talking and hugging and enjoying simple things like meals together, shopping and yummy ice cream treats.

One of my favorite things whenever any of our family gathers, is to step back and listen to them talking and laughing together. If I listen closely I’ll hear the little girls giggling to one another about something probably no one else would think is funny. At the same time I’ll hear baby Macy talking baby-talk to her parents who are engrossed in a conversation with my husband, while Jesse is teasing his aunt. When my other adult children, spouse and grandchildren are present, I’ll hear the guys laughing at each other as they try to upstage one another.To some perhaps it may sound like a cacophony, but to my ears it is harmonious music.

Occasionally when we’re together, unknown to them, I stop and listen for this sound. It’s a sound that’s more than noise. A sound of hearts connected to one another and of laughter that shares a deep kind of knowing one another. It’s not their words, or the degree of softness or loudness, it’s the message the sound conveys to my heart. They are brothers and sisters, whether by marriage or by blood. They are friends for life! They, their spouses and children matter to each other and their voices blended together create a special sound that causes my heart to be overwhelmed with gratitude. To me, there’s nothing like this sound! I call it the sound of family.

A few days ago I found myself thinking about unanswered prayer. I wondered . . . is it that I don’t pray enough, or pray the right way, or is that I rely on formulas and principles rather than talking heart-to-heart with my Father?

The heart-to-heart with my Father idea brought me up short. Apparently I had arrived at something important in my time of musing. I could clearly see how I had drifted into certain ways to pray about various things, rather than coming honestly to my Father and baring my heart to Him. My prayers of late were “old prayers” prayed from times past. Ways of praying that worked in previous days, but were void of my relationship to my Father today.

Although this revelation challenged me, the aspect of My Father brought it home! I found myself quietly calling to Him, “My Father”, but my heart felt as if I had said, “Hi Dad, I’ve been missing You lately.” Immediately He replied, “Hi Cheri’. Welcome back. I’ve missed you too.”

I am quite sure I haven’t found a new formula for answered prayer. What I have found . . . my heart is communicating honestly, and He is answering. For now, that’s more than enough!

This weekend I did some gardening. Leaves fell all around me, as I dug holes in my flower garden and planted bulbs of crocus and lilies. I planted them with an eye to springtime, imagining how pretty they would appear popping up through the melting snow. Although the air around me was warm, the soil was cold to the touch and seemed harder to manage.

The soil in this particular part of my garden was clay. Soil fascinates me, and teaches me lessons about my heart. Often, when working with soil, I find myself reminded of the parables Jesus taught regarding the soil and its similarity to the condition of the heart. For example, clay has to have hard and sometimes sharp particles added to break it up and allow drainage to occur. It often retains too much moisture, causing the roots to rot. It can be so stiff that some roots never break through and become established.

So it is with my heart. The hard and difficult places in life are often the very things that break up the hardness of my heart, allowing the bitterness and anger pent up within it to drain out. Without proper drainage of bad attitudes and negative dispositions, the root system of my life becomes saturated with too much self absorption or self pity. If it remains stiff and hard, the new things God is trying to teach me become defeated and are unable to be established within me.

That balmy afternoon, while planting bulbs, the coldness of the soil surprised me. I had never thought about soil temperature in regard to my heart. Consistency, texture — these I had always recognized. Temperature? Never before. It made me ponder . . . is winter necessary to the life cycle of plants? Could it be that a season of coldness is necessary even to the heart? This idea bothered me.

Looking back on my life, I could see definite seasons of coldness. The season following the death of a loved one, the times when disappointment had come or when my prayers seemed unanswered — admittedly these occasions sometimes brought coldness to the soil of my heart.

However, I could also see how the cold spell had always moved on into incredible seasons of life and light. Seasons where my heart felt as if it had inhaled the fresh smell of rain, and when life held great expectancy! Cold, dull times melted into times of hearing more clearly the voice of God and understanding what He had been teaching me.

Still the question remained . . . was this season necessary in my heart?

Genesis 8:22 records, “While the earth remains, seed-time and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night shall not cease.” Another scripture records “there is a time for everything.”

It would seem that seasons of cold are an inevitable part of life, and that my own heart is very susceptible to entering a winter season.

As to the necessity of a season of coldness in my heart? I’m still pondering it. . .

Define means “to state or set forth the meaning of a word or phrase”.

For as long as I can remember I have wanted to know the meaning of words and phrases! Dictionaries have been to me a bit like a treasure chest, holding incredible truths and a wellspring of understanding! Beneath their ordinary bindings lie delightful, captivating and gratifying revelations.

Likewise, I find everyday-life filled with a multitude of defining moments. Moments, like definitions in a dictionary, that bring truth and understanding. Throughout my days, I encounter moments that cause me to search for understanding or grant me a glimpse into the truth — or sometimes the lie — living inside my heart.

Whether it be a candid moment with my grandchild, a heart-wrenching time with a friend, or a moment of laughter with my husband, I tend to look beyond the experience in order to glean some understanding. Upon grasping the understanding I move towards application of the truth that has been disclosed. I consider learning to be an action, not simply knowledge. I want to be a “doer” of truth!

So why call my blog “Defining Moments”? Because they are what has shaped my life. — past and present defining moments. Always, always, journals have been my “secret place” — where only the pages have heard the ramblings of my heart. Recording them here, and sharing them with others — now that’s a defining moment!

So this is it! My first post! A true Defining Moment!