How To Be Alone

As I drove home from work this evening, through the country on this perfect Autumn day, I spotted a white horse. He was saddled but riderless, tied to a hitching post in a little grassy spot in front of the local Mexican Restaurant in the small town I pass through. He calmly waited, among the cars and trucks, for his cowboy to finish his burritos and beans and head back to the ol' homestead.

...I love living in the country ♥

Halloween. I have always loved it but, as the boys outgrew their need for my help with costumes and make-up, I lost interest.

This year, at the last minute, Beau was trying to throw together a costume. He had exactly 10 minutes because he and his girlfriend, Joy, had suddenly decided to attend a friend’s party 4-hours-drive away. (I know.  But this doesn’t even register a blip on your radar if you are 22 years old.)

I dug out Angus’ old cowboy boots from the back of his closet, while Beau scrounged and found a pair of too tight pants and a long-sleeved plaid shirt. I grabbed my long black raincoat and unzipped the liner as he went to the basement searching for an old cowboy hat to cover his shoulder-length hair. A quick hug and he was out the door. He finished off the costume, stopping by a store to buy a little pair of cowboy pistols in holsters. Voila!

I smiled as he pulled out onto the road and remembered a Halloween years ago. I was in fourth grade and my mom was a Room Mother. When I was kid we all had homemade costumes. told my mom I wanted to be an artist for the school Halloween party and away she went. She sewed and gathered until I was a hip artist wearing a smock, black tights and a French beret, carrying a paint-filled pallet and a paintbrush. This must’ve been the 1960’s version of an artist (according to mom) and I was very cool.

When it was party time we grabbed our bags full of costumes giggling as we went to change. A few minutes later my mom came in and told me to hand over my tights and my beret, “Someone has come without a costume” was all she said.

We gathered back in the classroom and I noticed the timid new kid had on my tights and beret and someone else’s tight black shirt. He had a nice black goatee painted on his chin – a Beatnik. So cool! And the fun and games began!

I don’t remember much about the kid; he was gone again before the end of the year. I didn’t give much thought to the kind of life a nine-year-old boy who didn’t even have a Halloween costume must have led.

I wonder, now, if he was well-loved...  I wonder if he remembers the nice lady who gave him a fun Halloween and a day of hope...  I wonder if anyone ever admits to having been a Beatnik...

Yesterday as I drove down the road, I turned a corner and there, backing out of a driveway, was a lovely white Suburban with small mushy-muddy hand prints squished all the way from the head lights, down the fender, across the doors, weaving all the way to the tail lights.  It was a lovey mural all down the side of the vehicle in a perfect handprint collage.  I had to laugh out loud and wondered how much trouble the muddy fingerpainters got in for their art project.

It brought back memories of when we were building our house.  There was SO much mud and, well, I had three young sons at the time... need I say more?

If there was a mud puddle or pile, they found it.  They hand printed our freshly painted new garage doors which bore those faint finger marks even after they had scrubbed and scrubbed, until it was finally repainted.  They ruined their clothes on their first mud experience and soon the rule became:  "Playing in the mud is a sans clothes activity". 

They have never really outgrown their love for mudding but now it is usually done in secret fields and valleys in 4WD vehicles.  My Jeep has come home suspiciously clean and shiny after the boys have used it.  Ocassionally, though, even the older ones just can't resist the allure of mud and one tumbles out of his truck and pulls another one into the mud pit and some silly sort of wrestling in the mud entails among much laughter.  (Someone always has a camera these days).

My grandson has recently discovered the puddle at the end of our driveway and I can already see the writing on the wall. His fascination is abundant but he is a cautious young man... so far.

This is Blue's Daddy and Uncle Casey to the right here and in the photos above.  There is Blue, below, following in the Mc tradition.  It makes my heart proud.  :)

I was not the typical girl who dreamed of weddings and having a family.  In fact, I didn't have a plan at all.  I just kind of went where life took me... but then I fell for the family-man kind of guy and his dream became mine. 

I was 27 years old and several months pregnant when we, both city kids, moved to "the country" on 10 wooded acres along a creek.  Angus was a UPS delivery driver and worked in the city... long hours and a long drive (in our only car).  There I was, pregnant and all alone. So alone...

As my belly grew bigger so did my apprehension.  What if I went into labor early and I didn't know a soul?  How would I even get a hold of Angus out there in his truck somewhere?  Then one day the Avon Lady rang my doorbell.  We visited and she brought the community into my living room.  I learned right awasy that she was a Christian lady who sold Avon as a hobby and a way to meet new people.  She told me what was going on in town and she gave me her phone number in case I needed anything.  A few days later she showed up on my doorstep and took me around to meet my neighbors.

Thirty years later, we are still out here in the same spot.  No longer city kids, we are now the older couple who've been here forever.  We've built a house and raised 4 kids here and starting in with grandkids.  The Avon Lady has retired now but I still call her my first country friend.  Thank you for your wisdom and your friendship, Sue.

Lady Wisdom Calls Out


Do you hear Lady Wisdom calling?
     Can you hear Madame Insight raising her voice?
She's taken her stand at First and Main,
     at the busiest intersection.
Right in the city square
     where the traffic is thickest, she shouts,
"You—I'm talking to all of you,
     everyone out here on the streets!
Listen, you idiots—learn good sense!
     You blockheads—shape up!
Don't miss a word of this—I'm telling you how to live well,
     I'm telling you how to live at your best.
My mouth chews and savors and relishes truth—
     I can't stand the taste of evil!
You'll only hear true and right words from my mouth;
     not one syllable will be twisted or skewed.
You'll recognize this as true—you with open minds;
     truth-ready minds will see it at once.
Prefer my life-disciplines over chasing after money,
     and God-knowledge over a lucrative career.
For Wisdom is better than all the trappings of wealth;
     nothing you could wish for holds a candle to her.


"I am Lady Wisdom, and I live next to Sanity;
     Knowledge and Discretion live just down the street.
The Fear-of-God means hating Evil,
     whose ways I hate with a passion—
     pride and arrogance and crooked talk.
Good counsel and common sense are my characteristics;
     I am both Insight and the Virtue to live it out.
With my help, leaders rule,
     and lawmakers legislate fairly;
With my help, governors govern,
     along with all in legitimate authority.
I love those who love me;
     those who look for me find me.
Wealth and Glory accompany me—
     also substantial Honor and a Good Name.
My benefits are worth more than a big salary, even a very big salary;
     the returns on me exceed any imaginable bonus.
You can find me on Righteous Road—that's where I walk—
     at the intersection of Justice Avenue,
Handing out life to those who love me,
     filling their arms with life—armloads of life!


"God sovereignly made me—the first, the basic—
     before he did anything else.
I was brought into being a long time ago,
     well before Earth got its start.
I arrived on the scene before Ocean,
     yes, even before Springs and Rivers and Lakes.
Before Mountains were sculpted and Hills took shape,
     I was already there, newborn;
Long before God stretched out Earth's Horizons,
     and tended to the minute details of Soil and Weather,
And set Sky firmly in place,
     I was there.
When he mapped and gave borders to wild Ocean,
     built the vast vault of Heaven,
     and installed the fountains that fed Ocean,
When he drew a boundary for Sea,
     posted a sign that said no trespassing,
And then staked out Earth's Foundations,
     I was right there with him, making sure everything fit.
Day after day I was there, with my joyful applause,
     always enjoying his company,
Delighted with the world of things and creatures,
     happily celebrating the human family.


"So, my dear friends, listen carefully;
     those who embrace these my ways are most blessed.
Mark a life of discipline and live wisely;
     don't squander your precious life.
Blessed the man, blessed the woman, who listens to me,
     awake and ready for me each morning,
     alert and responsive as I start my day's work.
When you find me, you find life, real life,
     to say nothing of God's good pleasure.
But if you wrong me, you damage your very soul;
     when you reject me, you're flirting with death."

                    Proverbs 8 ~ The Message

Debra and her three little children started coming to our church several years ago.  A young women of exotic beauty and charisma with a quick smile, she exuded joy and love.  She was new to this small town but easily got a job at a local daycare.  She quickly became involved in church activities, joined the praise band and became friends with the youth pastor.  It wasn't long before she met a sweet young man, a plumber named Filandro and started bringing him to church with her.  He was very shy but she brought such joy and hope to his life.  He began to open up and also become involved, in his humble, quiet way. 

She soon moved in with Filandro and he treated her children as his own.  When this happened it was a bit of an ethical problem for the youth pastor since Debra had become role model for the youth and was teaching a Bible study.

The father of her youngest child, a baby, started coming to our church, too.  Debra was unhappy about that, saying he wasn't a good father.  Then it wasn't long before we heard about the custody battle in Texas over her oldest child, the four-year-old.  Lena's father was making some terrible accusations about Debra and also claimed that she had taken her from the state illegally.  She claimed that she had done so in order to escape from his brutality.  There was a fundraiser for them arranged by our youth pastor, so that she could fly back for court, hire an attorney.  Two folks from church flew themselves down twice to give testimony on her behalf.  Filandro kept the kids each time.

Well, one day Debra took off.  Disappeared.  Took her kids and was gone.  Left Fil with  alot of debt and no word at all.  We'd all been duped.  A con artist.  She moved on.

A lot of people felt betrayed.  The worst of it all was poor heartbroken Fil.  He had truly loved her and her children had become like his own.  He had love and a family and it had been taken away from him in the crueliest of ways.

Fil withdrew into himself, coming to church less and less often.  He decided to move back to Oklahoma where he'd grown up, where his mom still lived.  We lost track of Fil after that.

Yesterday at church it was announced that Filandro had taken his own life.  I gasped out loud and tears instantly came.  I was sobbing silently most of the rest of the service.  Fil was the kind of man who would never be able to recover from such heartache without deep and dedicated love.  Had we done all we could for him?  Did we love him back to life again?  Did we abandon him after Debra left?  Did we call and check on him?  Did we even notice when he fell away?  Did we all dessert Filandro? Did I?

Ash Wednesday ~ A time to remember that we are ashes to ashes, dust to dust.  To remember our fraility and our sinfulness and the sacrifice that was made for us.

Lent ~ The 40 days when we intentionally remember the sacrifice Jesus made willingly (his very life) and the love with which it was given.  We might even make a small sacrifice (willingly, lovingly give up something precious to us) in order to get a better idea of the difficulty and the grace involved in Jesus' sacrifice.  

I am feeling closer to that Lenten meaning today better than I ever have before.  I knew Fil pretty well.  I knew his character and, if I'd have given it much thought, I'd have known that he was a truly broken man.  He was a tender soul.  I failed him.  We all did.  We all thought or hoped that someone else was taking care of him or didn't even notice.  There are no excuses. 

Sometimes I think we think "Oh, I'm a good person."  Honestly, I don't even give sin much thought.  My sins "aren't that bad".  But maybe the sins of not doing are the very worst kind.  We know better, but we are busy, tired or lazy.  Selfish.         But......

God loves me anyway.

Wow.     

"Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?" Jesus replied: " 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments."                      

The first snow came on Christmas Eve, we would have our white Christmas. It started with sleet then came howling winds, slick roads and not enough snow plows to keep up with the quickly falling and soon drifting snow. Blizzard warnings. Highways closed. Everyone's Christmas plans were suddenly disrupted.

We scrapped our never-missed tradition of trekking into the city to Gramma's but still made our way to the church because both Zeke and Bo were in the Praise Band. The place was packed! Like the birds bombarding our feeders in anticipation of the blizzard, we came to be nourished. Those who usually come to one of the two later services all seemed to be at the early one.

Back at home we settled into a rousing family game night. Zeke and I decided to head back in to church for the Candlelight Service. He said, "But, Mom, it's a tradition! We've never missed it!" (not within his short memory anyway :) So we went, slowly and carefully. Maybe 30 or so others had ventured out into the cold and snow. It was worth it. A sense of peace and calm flowed along with the violin and the candlelight. I was warmed by the love I felt in that service.

By evening on Christmas day we'd dug our way to out in time for Christmas dinner at my folks with all my family in the city. The boys have shoveled more snow this year than in all their years before combined! They’ve dug out our long driveway again and again trying to keep up. They’ve gotten up at the crack of dawn twice to shovel at the church before the morning worshippers arrive. They’ve been to Gramma’s so she can get out.

There has been a couple of days it warmed up enough for snowman building and Blue and his uncles took advantage. The big boys felt it was a heat wave and bundled accordingly. Zeke with no coat and bo in shorts, although it was barely above freezing. Blue has no boots and his Dad could not find his mittens so he trundled out there with wool socks on his hands and feet and plastic bags over his shoes. He thinks that is how you get ready to go out in the snow! Their big snowman still stands as a sentinel by the road weeks later. That never happens!

The birds are at the feeders from dawn to dusk and the squirrels make their attempts as well. There is one species of bird, 3 little fellows that are constant customers but have never been to our feeders for 30 years. The beak is longer than most and he flits around upside down and all around just like a Nuthatch. He flicks his tail like a wren. In fact he looks like a wren except he is much larger than the tiny wrens I am familiar with. He has white eye mask, stripes under his tail.

So we think we have gotten a total of around a foot of snow, although it is hard to tell with all the drifting. That isn't a huge amount considering it has snowed 3 or 4 times. It is the fact that it has stayed and accumulated and been so arcticly cold. I mean, a couple of weeks in the single digits! Brrrrrrrr.

We all used to dream of a pretty white winter, without all the slush and mush and only brown snow banks pushed together by the plows leftover from the snowstorm days earlier.

So. Be careful what you wish for. It’s snowing again!

God is with you wherever you are!

Blessings and love~

 

Our dog is a Black Lab who lived with my niece and her two other, all very fat and spoiled, indoor dogs.  I told my sis if I adopted Sabrena that she would not be spoiled here.  She would live outside, sleep in the old tack room, romp the woods and and live the life of a country dog. 

She did nothing but howl outside the windows the first two days she was here.  In the middle of the night I'd yell out the bedroom window for her to shut up and she would... for about ten minutes.  It was sometimes a full out wolf-type howl and other times it was pitiful wailing and sometimes a soft mourn-filled wimpering howl.  She finally gave up when she realized I meant business. I'd go out and rub and praise her anytime she wasn't howling, which was seldom. I'm sure the neighbors loved us.

She got over it and learned to adjust.  We've had her a couple of years now and she is a good dog.  Pretty smart, stays real close to home, and very friendly.

We have had 3 weeks of unusually cold weather with lots of snow that doesn't melt.  That doen't happen around here.  We get snow.  It's pretty for a day or two then turns to slush.  But this!  Snow then snow then more snow and winds and drifts and dangerously cold temps over and over!

So, of course, we've been letting Brena in the house at night and even in the day when it is "dangerously cold".  Does she slip in and quietly lay on the blanket I've laid out for her?  No, no.  She tromps right for the bedrooms and jumps up on a bed!  We heat with wood, so can't really close the bedroom doors at night or we'll freeze.  The boys are tolerant but don't like a heavy lump on their legs.  Zeke took a photo of her sleeping under the covers on Bo's bed with her head right on his pillow!  He thougth it was hilarious.  Last night I woke to heavy panting in my ear, sat up and screamed.  She busted down the stairs so fast it took me a second to realize what had happened.  Was she patiently waiting by the side of the bed for me to invite her up?

When the sun is out and it is above 10° I've been putting her out, she is a Lab.  Don't they swim to retrieve ducks in frigid lakes?  She has reverted to her old self by now and sits on the deck and howls, peeking in with those pitifully sad eyes.

I think about the nice pile of straw and pine duff, so soft, she has out there in the tack house.  With double walls and a windbreak, too.  It can't be that cold in there.  The there's the old chicken coop which also has nice soft bedding and the playhouse out there has a carpeted floor.  But she would prefer to sit on the deck, in the wind and the cold and lament her miserable fate.

I think sometimes we are like that.  We have a pretty good life and all that we need but we start looking in the windows of people who have a more comfortable set up and suddenly our life doesn't seem so good anymore.  We want more.  Maybe we want someone to give it to us or maybe we will do whatever we can to get it, including knocking over a couple of folks who are standing in the door.

I'm thinking that true happiness is being statisfied with life right here, right now.  That doesn't mean that I we shouldn't strive to be better or not accept a bigger and better thing when it comes our way... but just appreciate what is.  Look at what we do have.

Blessings!

The boys and I were sitting around and I told them about coming out after work and finding my car cleared of all the snow and how happy that little thing had made me. I mentioned that I didn't know who did it but liked the idea that it could have been a student, although I suggested the unlikliness of it even occurring to a Jr. High kid to do so.

Bo said, "Yeah, we did that once on a early out snow day." Then he proceeded to tell me how, when he was in high school, he and a friend had stayed after a few minutes talking with a teacher before they headed out. Andrew helped him scrape his windshield then he had helped Andrew scrape his, then they scraped the car in between their cars. They looked around and noticed about 15 vehicles still there. It was snowing and they were young and exhilarated from school being out early. They would scrape them all and no one would know who did it! They armed themselves with a scraper in each of their hands and ran around scraping all! He said it was a kick, and laughed with glee as he told it, even though it was several years past.

...pranking for good :)

The snow had been falling for two and a half hours when they finally dismissed early. The kids were thrilled. Twenty minutes after the kids had gone I headed out, too. As I passed the big window I glanced down to see how much snow had accumulated and I saw my car below. Someone had cleared my car of snow! All of the remaining vehicles had been cleaned.

It wouldn't have taken my but a few minutes to do it myself. It wouldn't have delayed my journey home much, wouldn't frozen my fingers much. But someone had done the small task for me. Someone had weathered the chill wind and trapsed through the snow from car to car to do a nice thing that they would not likely be thanked for.

I can't tell you how that small thought alleviated some of the stress I was feeling about the winding, hilly backroads drive home. It stayed with me even as I backed down the big hill twice after not being able to quite make it over the crest and having to take an alternate route. It lifted me to a smiley place that wasn't shaken even after taking twice the time to get nearly home. It warmed me even as I waited for Bo to come pull me out of the ditch 1/2 mile from home. :)

I kept thinking of the good stuff that went with all that had happened. We got out of school early (yeh!) and would not have to make up the day. My car was warm despite the cold and wind. No damage done to my car as my wheel left the road and sunk off the edge in the deep snow. I had my phone with me and it was charged. Bo had been home when I called and so was the Jeep, the only vehicle we have that could get the job done.

Life is good... and so are most people.

It was late the evening before New Year's Eve and I had a grocery list for our big New Year's Day dinner. As I set my grocery items on the belt I noticed that the customer in front of me was arguing with the store manager. She was waving coupons and I could clearly see the familiar red circles of the tegraT logo, although we were all standing in a small town grocery store. She was insisting that the store honor these coupons and the manager and my checker were adamantly defending their right to not honor them. The manager was frustrated and angry and the checker kept saying "We can't give you the money because we wouldn't get our money back on the coupon. It has to have our name on it." Eventually the customer left, leaving all her already rung up groceries behind. The employees, checkers, manager continued the diatribe, as if justifying their position to one another and to us.

My checker rolled her eyes and then checked me out. As I drove home I felt strangely bothered by the scene. I wasn't sure why, since I believed the store should not have to honor any coupon from other merchants and it is ridiculous to believe that all stores should. A little store like this would suffer greatly and would have to inflate their already higher prices to compensate. I get it. But... obviously the young woman with her handful of coupons didn't get it. She was never rude, probably embarrassed by the attention yet asserting her rights (as she understood them). I never heard anyone give her an explanation of why they couldn't honor them except "we won't get the money back", obviously some big stores do that anyway, they can afford to eat the diff, but no one bothered to explain that to her. Or the manager could have just explained that it is not this store's policy, and apologize. Or whatever, they could have been kind through it all.

No one was kind at all. They were so interested in being right that they lost sight of the person they were talking to. It was not busy, they could have taken the time. They could have handled it so differently. It bothered me so much, and has stayed with me these several days. I think because there have been so many times when I have been that manager. I have a need to be tight or to justify myself, forgetting or not caring how I have made another person feel. I want other people to give me the benefit of the doubt but I don't alwasy do that for others.

Kindness does not come automatically for me. I can be thoughtful and kind but it is a thinking thing, an affort. It makes me feel good when I do that and is usually worth the effort. I want my family and friends to be kinder, I want the kids and teachers at my school to show kindness, I want businesses to promote kindness among their staffs, I want strangers to show kindness, I want the world to be a kinder place. So, with that little grocery store scenario as one of my last memories of 2009, I walk forth into 2010 with the hope, desire and will for it to be year of kindness... starting with me.

I am not only going model kindness whenever I can, I am also going to promote it. I am going to recognize kindness whenever I notice it, whether it be a random act or an intentional one, because for me anyway, noticing the good things in life makes all the difference.

I'll try to post good things here and I hope you'll let me know when you hear, or see or experience a kindness that touches your heart.