Megan Lebo

"Just be. Its what the world denies you" – Brandon Heath

Month: June, 2012

Remembering George…

He was strong, tender, and he loved us all.

It’s funny the things you remember.  I strive, with much difficulty, to remember which roads I have to turn on in the city I have spent my entire life.

But I remember him.

I remember the sound of his voice.  I remember how he laughed.  He laughed a lot.  As a matter of fact the last memory I hold of him is his laughter.  It’s not the incessant drone of the beeping heart monitor.  It’s not the sterile, cold smell of the hospital room or the needles in his arm feeding his ailing body.


It’s the picture of his smile and the sound of his laughter as we are all gathered around him joking and listening to Alex making fun of Aunt DD as he so often does.

For someone who possessed such a collection of sordid childhood memories, he was a man who chose to experience life with joy.

We have always been a close family and we have always been full of such life, with personalities that are strong as they are diverse.

And we loved him dearly.

I remember fondly the little things.  He loved spending time with all of us.

He used to take is teeth out in front of us out of the sheer joy and pleasure he received from seeing his grandkids squeal, giggle, and then ask him to do it again!

He built things with the boys.  He watched with excitement the fashion shows and the talents shows in which we used jokes that we actually got from him.  He came to hear me sing.  He came to see Alex’s soccer games.  He helped us paint the house and he helped us stain the woodwork.

And the year that he died he had hiked through the Rocky Mountains with us.

Even in the memories where he was not directly involved I still remember him there.  He was always there.

He always kept Werther’s Caramels in his pockets and on his dresser.  He always drank his coffee out of the same brown mug.  He made off color jokes and then would laugh and cover his mouth.

He loved his girls and he loved his grandkids.

And I miss him.

He lived this life to the fullest but life does not end on this earth and I anticipate the day when I will be in fellowship with him again.

And I look forward to the day when I hear his laugh again in the fullness of the joy of the Lord that can only be experienced on the other side of life.


Your move…

It’s a strange feeling knowing that you’re on the edge of something.  The anticipation of revelation or even the progression of it is an exciting event.  It is strange and somewhat liberating to be so self aware…and not just self aware but also aware, with heightened sensitivity, of others.

If you ask me, I like knowing.

It’s the uncertainty that drives me into fits of anxiety.  Once I am aware then I am at peace and can move forward and act with clarity and precision.

I’m learning how to play the game.

What game you ask?  Well, I’ll admit that I am attempting to be vague and mysterious on purpose.  It’s just more fun this way.

I really do not like being a novice.  It makes me feel insecure, vulnerable, and dependent.  While I had for so long desired (desperately I might add) such change in my life I admit that the idea of actual change terrified me.  I had not realized how incredibly comfortable I had become with how my life was running.  I had embraced my current standing and had owned it as an identity.  But I have ventured into a new arena and the game has changed.  And I have come to realize that I can actually be a player.

Ok, that’s not what I meant.  (You all have dirty minds.)  I was speaking metaphorically.

Like the game of chess I have begun to learn the strategies and techniques that make this fun, challenging, and exciting. I have also learned to relax.

To wait.

I do not know what the outcome will be.  The game may be over already and if that’s the case, well, that’s ok.  But how long does one wait on the field?  I really don’t know.

All I know is that  I’d really like to keep playing…its just not my move anymore.