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 ♥
Showing posts with label observations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label observations. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 09, 2010
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
A big truck rumbles around the corner, a dog barks in the distance as I pick tomatoes in the garden. A hummingbird buzzes by on his way to the feeder, the chimes tinkle gently in the breeze. I notice none of this, I'm thinking about what to make for dinner.
There's a golf ball in the grass and a piece of fur caught in a crack of the deck. A tiny puddle on the deck grows beneath a leak in the gutters above. I am lost in thought about the meeting tonight as I pull weeds among the flowers.
Sometimes I don't even notice when someone walks into the room! My grandson, Blue, notices all of the above. He catches everything. He is enamored by it all.
The very first time we blew up the kiddie pool and filled it, he was curious. What was this giant puddle? He stuck his hand in to test the water then lifted it and watched the water drip down his hand off the tip of his fingers and into the grass. He watched every detail of the traveling drop until it finally disappeared then dipped his hand again. He did it over and over again.
He is especially fascinated by the wind. He can be deep in play when the wind blows the leaves in the trees high above. They rustle; he stops and looks up to see. Blue can be riding his spring horse on the back deck when the breeze blows and he stops and points to his pinwheel laying on the table. I pick it up, turn it to find the wind 'til it is spinning furiously. He watches until it slows to a stop then continues his ride until the next gust of wind catches his attention.
Because Blue loves them so, I have hung wind chimes all around. He never fails to hear the chimes and points to make sure I am paying attention as well.
Having Blue around this summer has brought a new perspective to my life. I am beginning to pay attention. I am starting to notice the little things in life that add sugar and spice to the normal. I am observing the little details that bring a sense of wonder and give me balance. It slows me down and somehow makes me feel lighter and more grateful. Life is good. God is good.
There are no seven wonders of the world in the eyes of a child. There are seven million. ~Walt Streightiff
Friday, July 10, 2009
Friday, July 18, 2008
Zeke is spending his summer in the deep South. He is living and working in the heart of West Jackson, Mississippi. (Fred, isn't that the part of town you warned him to stay out of?) 
I think he is loving it!
He is working as an intern at Voice of Calvary Ministries, helping with their Summer Youth Program. They do school work enrichment and also take field trips and fun stuff. After work every day the kids insist he play football with them, so this soccer player plays football in the deepest Mississippi heat and goes home hot and drenched in sweat and happy. 
He's living in a house with 5 other interns. They have no internet service and often spend their evenings sitting on the front porch. They are getting to know their neighbors and he says all the neighborhood kids from 5 to 20 years old come on over to inspect the white kids living in their midst. The little kids all want to feel his soft blond curls and he lets them... gets a kick out of it.
One Friday in mid-June he drove 9 hours to be in a friend's wedding, then turned around and drove back Sunday morning. Angus and I met up with him on Saturday just in time to see him all decked out in a fancy tux, he had not gotten his hair cut, but it was so good to see him.
He was a Groomsmen, also played guitar and sang. It was a lovely wedding and we visited with him a bit at the reception but there was so little time!It had only been a month since I had seen him but he had already changed and grown. A friend once told me when your child goes away to college it's like getting to know someone new every time you meet up again. She was right. It seems they change as much as they did when they were babies, only now it is in a less predictable pattern but every bit as fascinating!
Saturday was Zeke's birthday and I spread the word among his friends and relatives. Having a summer birthday, he's spent many of them away from home on family vacations , at Camp Galilee, at a soccer tourney in Minnesota and at the Sonshine Festival. But always he'd been with people who knew it was his birthday. I doubted if he'd even care if no one knew about it but I thought it would be cool if he got a bunch of cards on his day.
He did! He called on the Friday before and asked me if I think he is 7 years old? I laughed as I could hear the pleasure and joy in his voice behind the mock disgust. He'd already gotten the gift we sent and several cards, one with five bucks in it. (Remember when it was a thrill to get $5?)
He had to work Saturday morning at a Youth Rally in the park. It was his second one and he already knew it would be a fun day. A TV crew showed up and was taping and he made it on the WLBT TV News that evening!
His GrammaJo ordered a cheese cake at the Broad Street Bakery in Jackson(found on the internet) and all he had to do was go pick it up. He's not much for cake so we always have cheesecake on his birthday. Bet he didn't expect it this year. Surprise! He shared it with his new friends that evening.
A good kid. A good day. A good life.
I think he is loving it!He is working as an intern at Voice of Calvary Ministries, helping with their Summer Youth Program. They do school work enrichment and also take field trips and fun stuff. After work every day the kids insist he play football with them, so this soccer player plays football in the deepest Mississippi heat and goes home hot and drenched in sweat and happy.
He's living in a house with 5 other interns. They have no internet service and often spend their evenings sitting on the front porch. They are getting to know their neighbors and he says all the neighborhood kids from 5 to 20 years old come on over to inspect the white kids living in their midst. The little kids all want to feel his soft blond curls and he lets them... gets a kick out of it.
One Friday in mid-June he drove 9 hours to be in a friend's wedding, then turned around and drove back Sunday morning. Angus and I met up with him on Saturday just in time to see him all decked out in a fancy tux, he had not gotten his hair cut, but it was so good to see him.
He was a Groomsmen, also played guitar and sang. It was a lovely wedding and we visited with him a bit at the reception but there was so little time!It had only been a month since I had seen him but he had already changed and grown. A friend once told me when your child goes away to college it's like getting to know someone new every time you meet up again. She was right. It seems they change as much as they did when they were babies, only now it is in a less predictable pattern but every bit as fascinating!
Saturday was Zeke's birthday and I spread the word among his friends and relatives. Having a summer birthday, he's spent many of them away from home on family vacations , at Camp Galilee, at a soccer tourney in Minnesota and at the Sonshine Festival. But always he'd been with people who knew it was his birthday. I doubted if he'd even care if no one knew about it but I thought it would be cool if he got a bunch of cards on his day.
He did! He called on the Friday before and asked me if I think he is 7 years old? I laughed as I could hear the pleasure and joy in his voice behind the mock disgust. He'd already gotten the gift we sent and several cards, one with five bucks in it. (Remember when it was a thrill to get $5?)
He had to work Saturday morning at a Youth Rally in the park. It was his second one and he already knew it would be a fun day. A TV crew showed up and was taping and he made it on the WLBT TV News that evening!
His GrammaJo ordered a cheese cake at the Broad Street Bakery in Jackson(found on the internet) and all he had to do was go pick it up. He's not much for cake so we always have cheesecake on his birthday. Bet he didn't expect it this year. Surprise! He shared it with his new friends that evening.
A good kid. A good day. A good life.
Friday, April 04, 2008
"Serving Our Lord One Hotdog at a Time" is announced on the tee shirts of the volunteers handing out free lunch at the Christian Church of North Kansas City. The program was originally started to help the poor and homeless in this mostly industrial town but it wasn't long before the students at the local high school heard about free lunch on Wednesdays. Nothing brings kids running like free food.
Did the church chase them away telling them they were not the intended recipients of these free meals? No way! They took it all on. Their first week, in 2004, they served about 40 people. Now it they have more than 900 students each week ... and anyone else who walks in. With an active membership of about 250 they took on the cost of the annual $19,000 to cover it.
They have over 20 dedicated volunteers, mostly retired folk, who show up each week to dole out the hotdogs and a dose of love requiring only a bit of manners; the removal of their hats in the church and a thank you.
I graduated from NKC High over 30 years ago. The buildings were ancient even then and landlocked. I had gone to a modern high school the year before and found the old stone buildings beautiful and filled with character. The cafeteria just couldn't accomodate the number of students so, out of neccessity, we were given some freedom. We could leave the building at lunch time, on our own, and go wherever we wanted to go... so long as we didn't go in a car and we were back for our next class. We were heady with this freedom. There were no fast food places within walking distance and you really cut it close if you tried to eat at one of the few restaurants, so kids mostly just wandered, went to the park or the convenience store. There was nothing to do, no place to eat but we could leave... so we did.
I try to think back and imagine how wonderful it would have been to have a safe place to hang out for awhile and to feel welcomed and loved on top of that! I work in a Middle School now and I know for sure that most of the kids that are walking on the edge could be pulled back if they just had anyone who cared, someone who made them feel valued.
I heap my blessings on this church and its ministry of love. They started a program and it went in God's direction instead of the way they thought it would go. And they let it; they let God. They trusted and were servants and it grew. They took a chance. So many of us don't.
What is it Mother Teresa said? ~Something about preaching without preaching...
Thursday, August 16, 2007
I woke and the alarm clock glowed 5:22.... too early to get up. I almost rolled over and went back to sleep when I remembered the Perseid Meteor Shower. It was supposed to peak at 4:30 a.m. I thought maybe if I got up I could still catch a bit of it.
The debate in my mind, whether it was worth getting up for, actually awakened me so I did get up. I grabbed a blanket to lay on and stepped outside. It was still so humid but surprisingly cool so I grabbed another blanket to cover up with.
I laid down and gazed up at the darkened sky. There were some streaks of clouds and the sky had already lightened enough that not a lot of stars were visible, but I was comfy and it is always amazing to stare into the night sky so I stayed.
I stared into the sky and thought about all the zillions of stars up there. I knew there were also meteors out there whizzing past the earth, too. But I couldn’t see them. As many as 80 per hour at peak the newsperson had said. Even at half that I should be seeing some… and then I did.
It was so quick but it was there and I saw it. I thought what a beautiful miracle it was. I remembered the time Angus and I were young and had been driving home late one night from the city. We caught a meteor shower through the windshield and we hadn’t known it was going on so it caught us by surprise. Some were quick and short but others were bright and had long trails across the black sky. We delighted and pointed, “Oh! Look at that one! Did you see that one?“ It just kept on and on, one after the other. We were so amazed and grateful… but after awhile we just stopped paying attention, even as they continued to streak through the sky.
Isn’t that how it is with God’s wonderful miracles? Like the stars, they are out there all the time. Constantly surrounding us but not always visible. Most of the time we don’t even notice because we see them so often we don’t even think of them as miracles any more.
The mosquitoes were buzzing me by then. The first high-pitched singer started buzzing me soon after I’d laid down, so I had covered myself neck to toe with the blanket and waved it away if it came in too close. After I saw my “shooting star” I quit watching. I rolled over and covered my head, too.
I had seen a meteor and I thought I would just lay there and listen to the world awaken. The crickets made beautiful background music for my soprano mosquito. Soon an alto joined her and then another. I honestly did not know that mosquitoes sound different but these three definitely all had their own individual songs. I didn’t enjoy it though and I jumped up, grabbed the blankets (flinging my glasses somewhere beyond onto the lawn) and ran back into the house.
While I was crawling around in the grass feeling for my glasses, I thought about how distracted we get from all that God has to offer us… all of his plans for us, too. Or we just flat out ignore them because it is hot under the blanket and we don’t like what’s going on around us any way. So we split. Take the easy way and miss the opportunities. We wander around blindly until daylight comes and we see a glint in the grass and we can see again but only because we searched!
...Okay, I’ll quit. I just get like this sometimes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"The invariable mark of wisdom is to see the miraculous in the common." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm not there yet...
The debate in my mind, whether it was worth getting up for, actually awakened me so I did get up. I grabbed a blanket to lay on and stepped outside. It was still so humid but surprisingly cool so I grabbed another blanket to cover up with.
I laid down and gazed up at the darkened sky. There were some streaks of clouds and the sky had already lightened enough that not a lot of stars were visible, but I was comfy and it is always amazing to stare into the night sky so I stayed.
I stared into the sky and thought about all the zillions of stars up there. I knew there were also meteors out there whizzing past the earth, too. But I couldn’t see them. As many as 80 per hour at peak the newsperson had said. Even at half that I should be seeing some… and then I did.
It was so quick but it was there and I saw it. I thought what a beautiful miracle it was. I remembered the time Angus and I were young and had been driving home late one night from the city. We caught a meteor shower through the windshield and we hadn’t known it was going on so it caught us by surprise. Some were quick and short but others were bright and had long trails across the black sky. We delighted and pointed, “Oh! Look at that one! Did you see that one?“ It just kept on and on, one after the other. We were so amazed and grateful… but after awhile we just stopped paying attention, even as they continued to streak through the sky.
Isn’t that how it is with God’s wonderful miracles? Like the stars, they are out there all the time. Constantly surrounding us but not always visible. Most of the time we don’t even notice because we see them so often we don’t even think of them as miracles any more.
The mosquitoes were buzzing me by then. The first high-pitched singer started buzzing me soon after I’d laid down, so I had covered myself neck to toe with the blanket and waved it away if it came in too close. After I saw my “shooting star” I quit watching. I rolled over and covered my head, too.
I had seen a meteor and I thought I would just lay there and listen to the world awaken. The crickets made beautiful background music for my soprano mosquito. Soon an alto joined her and then another. I honestly did not know that mosquitoes sound different but these three definitely all had their own individual songs. I didn’t enjoy it though and I jumped up, grabbed the blankets (flinging my glasses somewhere beyond onto the lawn) and ran back into the house.
While I was crawling around in the grass feeling for my glasses, I thought about how distracted we get from all that God has to offer us… all of his plans for us, too. Or we just flat out ignore them because it is hot under the blanket and we don’t like what’s going on around us any way. So we split. Take the easy way and miss the opportunities. We wander around blindly until daylight comes and we see a glint in the grass and we can see again but only because we searched!
...Okay, I’ll quit. I just get like this sometimes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"The invariable mark of wisdom is to see the miraculous in the common." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm not there yet...
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Sometimes I think God gave us husbands so we will keep perspective in our lives.
This morning I read Swampwitch's post about being the mother of the bride and some of her personal horrors as she prepares for the wedding. This excerpt made me laugh out loud. This is she talking to her really empathetic husband:
Her drama with getting sick before the wedding and everything else that was not going right brought back my son's wedding to me. It was three yeats ago.
I needed a just-right dress. I thought it would be easy but I was oh-so-wrong! It was about a week before the wedding and I still didn't have it. Everything I could find was either spaghetti-strap prom, matronly or beaded/glittery. I am none of the above. Oh, yeah, and it had to be a color that at least didn't clash with the bridesmaids and the mother of the bride. AND it had to fit my weird skinny-limbs-broad-shoulders-big-butt figure. Where were other women finding those gorgeous dresses? I hate shopping for clothes anyway and I found myself shopping for hours on end.
That's bad... because when I shop and don't find what I want, well, I settle. I start seeing possibilities in things. I found a dress that I thought would do. It was a blue similar to the mother of the bride's dress, which she was making herself, by the way. It was big but it wasn't shiny or fancy, which neither am I. ...it had possibilities.
It was way too big, even for my backside, although fit pretty well at the shoulders. It just hung on me. Guess what? I bought it anyway. I decided my mom could alter it for me and she agreed to do it.
Kevin's girlfriend convinced me to go to her salon for my hair cut. She was also a "Colorist". I should have run. I have never colored my hair before other than highlights which I do myself. She said we needed to get rid of the gray (hey, it's in the back, I can't see it!) and "even it out a bit." (she didn't like my highlights!) She gave me a nice "caramel" color, a lighter shade than my natural color and add some lighter streaks. "Okay, you're the expert." ...famous last words. It came out blah, blah, blah, plain.
After a couple of hours of that, and it all cost more than my dress, I just wanted to get out of there! Shoe shopping time. I found a nice pair of pointy sling-backs and bought them. In the process I lost my credit card (or was it stolen?) which, being that I use it so seldom, I didn't notice 'til I got ready to pay for the kids' honeymoon suite several days later and it was gone. But someone had "found" it and had been on a little buying spree. The guy at the credit card company was gentle when he told me this but I just burst into tears anyway. He must be accustomed to this response because he comforted me and told me to take some deep breaths and that it would all be okay. (It was)
Two days before the wedding I woke up feeling kinda nauseous... the day my mom was going to take in and hem up my dress. When I got out of bed I literally could not walk, the room was spinning. I was sure I had some disease and was going to miss my firstborn's wedding. If I lay perfectly still I was fine but any movement left me nauseated and dizzy. The doctor squeezed me in and decided I had some kind of virus that messed with my inner ear. He got me some medicine and life was good again. But the day was wasted and my dress did not get altered.
Anyway, I had to keep it all in perspective, after all the wedding wasn't all about me. Angus said I looked "fine" which is guy-speak for "get over yourself". I doubted anyone would even notice me and I was so flippin' busy I didn't really give it much thought. Until the photos came back.
Here is a snapshot of boring me taken an hour before the wedding with the mother of the bride. Still in my flip-flops and see how my lipstick makes my lips disappear? I am a hopeless cause, I think.
The good news is - the bride was beautiful. My son was wonderful. The wedding was spiritual. The reception was fun and I fell in love with my husband all over again. Who cares that I was wearing a blue potato sack?
+++++
Phillipians 4:11 ~ Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content.
This morning I read Swampwitch's post about being the mother of the bride and some of her personal horrors as she prepares for the wedding. This excerpt made me laugh out loud. This is she talking to her really empathetic husband:
"Can you see my zit?"
"Not if you put your hand over your nose or if I shut my eyes."
Her drama with getting sick before the wedding and everything else that was not going right brought back my son's wedding to me. It was three yeats ago.
I needed a just-right dress. I thought it would be easy but I was oh-so-wrong! It was about a week before the wedding and I still didn't have it. Everything I could find was either spaghetti-strap prom, matronly or beaded/glittery. I am none of the above. Oh, yeah, and it had to be a color that at least didn't clash with the bridesmaids and the mother of the bride. AND it had to fit my weird skinny-limbs-broad-shoulders-big-butt figure. Where were other women finding those gorgeous dresses? I hate shopping for clothes anyway and I found myself shopping for hours on end.
That's bad... because when I shop and don't find what I want, well, I settle. I start seeing possibilities in things. I found a dress that I thought would do. It was a blue similar to the mother of the bride's dress, which she was making herself, by the way. It was big but it wasn't shiny or fancy, which neither am I. ...it had possibilities.
It was way too big, even for my backside, although fit pretty well at the shoulders. It just hung on me. Guess what? I bought it anyway. I decided my mom could alter it for me and she agreed to do it.
Kevin's girlfriend convinced me to go to her salon for my hair cut. She was also a "Colorist". I should have run. I have never colored my hair before other than highlights which I do myself. She said we needed to get rid of the gray (hey, it's in the back, I can't see it!) and "even it out a bit." (she didn't like my highlights!) She gave me a nice "caramel" color, a lighter shade than my natural color and add some lighter streaks. "Okay, you're the expert." ...famous last words. It came out blah, blah, blah, plain.
After a couple of hours of that, and it all cost more than my dress, I just wanted to get out of there! Shoe shopping time. I found a nice pair of pointy sling-backs and bought them. In the process I lost my credit card (or was it stolen?) which, being that I use it so seldom, I didn't notice 'til I got ready to pay for the kids' honeymoon suite several days later and it was gone. But someone had "found" it and had been on a little buying spree. The guy at the credit card company was gentle when he told me this but I just burst into tears anyway. He must be accustomed to this response because he comforted me and told me to take some deep breaths and that it would all be okay. (It was)
Two days before the wedding I woke up feeling kinda nauseous... the day my mom was going to take in and hem up my dress. When I got out of bed I literally could not walk, the room was spinning. I was sure I had some disease and was going to miss my firstborn's wedding. If I lay perfectly still I was fine but any movement left me nauseated and dizzy. The doctor squeezed me in and decided I had some kind of virus that messed with my inner ear. He got me some medicine and life was good again. But the day was wasted and my dress did not get altered.
Anyway, I had to keep it all in perspective, after all the wedding wasn't all about me. Angus said I looked "fine" which is guy-speak for "get over yourself". I doubted anyone would even notice me and I was so flippin' busy I didn't really give it much thought. Until the photos came back.
Here is a snapshot of boring me taken an hour before the wedding with the mother of the bride. Still in my flip-flops and see how my lipstick makes my lips disappear? I am a hopeless cause, I think.The good news is - the bride was beautiful. My son was wonderful. The wedding was spiritual. The reception was fun and I fell in love with my husband all over again. Who cares that I was wearing a blue potato sack?
+++++
Phillipians 4:11 ~ Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content.
Saturday, June 09, 2007
It was one of those fleeting moments where everything comes together and life feels perfect and you know it won’t last so you soak it in and let it fill you.
I glanced over at Angus grilling fat juicy burgers and noticed a squirrel ransacking the Mulberry tree behind him. It stopped now and then to scold Miss SuzyQ as she carefully watched his every move from below. Eventually she gave up the hopeless waiting game and took her place beside me on the deck. I sat rocking in a slow rhythm, occasionally taking a sip of wine as the sun just dipped below the trees.
The rocking chair had been a Mother’s Day gift a few years ago. The boys had gone together and bought it, knowing my love for sitting on the deck observing, reading and just enjoying. They have memories of me rocking them sleep at night, reading or singing our own made-up lyrics to “Mockingbird“. “If that mockingbird won‘t sing, Mama’s gonna buy you a squishy thing. If that squishy thing gets flat, Mama’s gonna buy you a brand new hat (or cat… or rat).” Oh, they loved that song! It changed every time we sang it and it never failed to quiet a sad little boy. Eventually the old rocking chair with teething marks on its arms symbolized “bedtime” and they wanted nothing to do with it. Now, a different rocking chair, a different purpose but it still brings me closer to the boys when I think about it.
Captain Jack lay quietly beside me taking it all in with me. Now and then I would drop my hand down and rub his cheek. He’d squint and lean into it with gratitude and barely notice when his sister joined us. He was once a bold, brave tomcat who wanted nothing more than to escape the domestic life.
One time he was gone overnight and came back with his eye swollen shut. He had a worbal in his eye that the vet removed and said he’d have gotten the maggot-like parasite from sticking his head in a rabbit hole. A few days later, feeling better, he disappeared again for three days. When he came back he was a changed cat. Frightened of everything. So jumpy that the boys couldn’t resist surprising him whenever they got the chance and laughing hysterically when he jumped a foot straight in the air. He has since settled down to be our homeboy, seldom venturing more than a few yards from the house. He has lost his lust for adventure.
The aroma of the hickory smoke and the seared meat was making me hungry. Brutus lay on the grass near the grill, his head up but careful not to look in the direction of the fabulous smells that were wafting his way. Such a greatly disciplined dog he is! He is a black lab we inherited when my brother moved from his house with a little fenced back yard to a house on a golf course. He has been a great addition to our family and loves the country life. He loves the woods out back and comes home grinning and covered with ticks. He is gone more than he is here, roaming with the coyotes, I wonder? But this evening he has joined us and I am glad for it.
The birds are active on this cool evening, flitting from tree to tree, they give out happy chirps different than their morning singing. They must be wearier now but still hopeful to fill those little birdie-bellies back at the nest. I watch to see if I can locate a nest but give up and turn my attention to my chickens wandering about the yard.
They have found something yummy up near the road and scratched the mulch away from the flower beds to get at the something hidden beneath. They stay together as they meander along the driveway and back into the yard. One of the hens is a straggler, attentive to some grub hidden in the grass. She suddenly notices they’ve left without her and she runs to catch up. She lifts her skirts and wobble-runs toward the others.
I knew we’d be eating on the back deck in a few minutes, taking advantage of the mild weather that we both knew would not last. It would be just Angus and me, the boys having all gone off with friends tonight for sand volleyball. I am thinking about how nice it is to have this quiet dinner at home with Angus. We’ve had so little alone time over the years but we are transitioning. I wonder, in a year or two when all the boys have gone and only come home sporadically, will we still cherish these quiet evenings alone?
It was a lovely, quiet meal. We talked and smiled and as we cleaned up afterwards, the house filled with young people again and the fridge door opened and laughter flowed. Someone flipped on the TV and we all sat jumbled together watching “Shrek“ because that was what was on. There were too many for the seating but no one cared. They crunched together, they sat on the floor and chuckled at the silly jokes. I noticed the look of contentment that had settled over Angus as he sat comfortably among them and I felt the same.
Life is so good.
I glanced over at Angus grilling fat juicy burgers and noticed a squirrel ransacking the Mulberry tree behind him. It stopped now and then to scold Miss SuzyQ as she carefully watched his every move from below. Eventually she gave up the hopeless waiting game and took her place beside me on the deck. I sat rocking in a slow rhythm, occasionally taking a sip of wine as the sun just dipped below the trees.
The rocking chair had been a Mother’s Day gift a few years ago. The boys had gone together and bought it, knowing my love for sitting on the deck observing, reading and just enjoying. They have memories of me rocking them sleep at night, reading or singing our own made-up lyrics to “Mockingbird“. “If that mockingbird won‘t sing, Mama’s gonna buy you a squishy thing. If that squishy thing gets flat, Mama’s gonna buy you a brand new hat (or cat… or rat).” Oh, they loved that song! It changed every time we sang it and it never failed to quiet a sad little boy. Eventually the old rocking chair with teething marks on its arms symbolized “bedtime” and they wanted nothing to do with it. Now, a different rocking chair, a different purpose but it still brings me closer to the boys when I think about it.
Captain Jack lay quietly beside me taking it all in with me. Now and then I would drop my hand down and rub his cheek. He’d squint and lean into it with gratitude and barely notice when his sister joined us. He was once a bold, brave tomcat who wanted nothing more than to escape the domestic life.
One time he was gone overnight and came back with his eye swollen shut. He had a worbal in his eye that the vet removed and said he’d have gotten the maggot-like parasite from sticking his head in a rabbit hole. A few days later, feeling better, he disappeared again for three days. When he came back he was a changed cat. Frightened of everything. So jumpy that the boys couldn’t resist surprising him whenever they got the chance and laughing hysterically when he jumped a foot straight in the air. He has since settled down to be our homeboy, seldom venturing more than a few yards from the house. He has lost his lust for adventure.
The aroma of the hickory smoke and the seared meat was making me hungry. Brutus lay on the grass near the grill, his head up but careful not to look in the direction of the fabulous smells that were wafting his way. Such a greatly disciplined dog he is! He is a black lab we inherited when my brother moved from his house with a little fenced back yard to a house on a golf course. He has been a great addition to our family and loves the country life. He loves the woods out back and comes home grinning and covered with ticks. He is gone more than he is here, roaming with the coyotes, I wonder? But this evening he has joined us and I am glad for it.
The birds are active on this cool evening, flitting from tree to tree, they give out happy chirps different than their morning singing. They must be wearier now but still hopeful to fill those little birdie-bellies back at the nest. I watch to see if I can locate a nest but give up and turn my attention to my chickens wandering about the yard.
They have found something yummy up near the road and scratched the mulch away from the flower beds to get at the something hidden beneath. They stay together as they meander along the driveway and back into the yard. One of the hens is a straggler, attentive to some grub hidden in the grass. She suddenly notices they’ve left without her and she runs to catch up. She lifts her skirts and wobble-runs toward the others.
I knew we’d be eating on the back deck in a few minutes, taking advantage of the mild weather that we both knew would not last. It would be just Angus and me, the boys having all gone off with friends tonight for sand volleyball. I am thinking about how nice it is to have this quiet dinner at home with Angus. We’ve had so little alone time over the years but we are transitioning. I wonder, in a year or two when all the boys have gone and only come home sporadically, will we still cherish these quiet evenings alone?
It was a lovely, quiet meal. We talked and smiled and as we cleaned up afterwards, the house filled with young people again and the fridge door opened and laughter flowed. Someone flipped on the TV and we all sat jumbled together watching “Shrek“ because that was what was on. There were too many for the seating but no one cared. They crunched together, they sat on the floor and chuckled at the silly jokes. I noticed the look of contentment that had settled over Angus as he sat comfortably among them and I felt the same.
Life is so good.
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
Monday, May 28, 2007
For the Ones Who've Survived: I've resurrected this from the not so ancient past because I can't write anything better today than what I was feeling then. In honor of Memorial Day and the ones who came back but now have to live with it.
Dear Marine,
It's September here in Missouri, still hot but with a hint of Autumn in the air today. I walked out to get the mail this afternoon and couldn't resist the hammock in the shade of the peach tree on the trip back to the house. I laid across it, just for a few minutes, as I sorted through today's bills and flyers. There was a sweet thank you note from a friend who had left for college for the first time only 3 weeks ago. I recognized her big round letters and smiled before I even opened it, knowing that the small package I had sent had brought a tiny moment of joy into her exciting, new and homesick world. Then my thoughts turned to you, my faraway friend.
I remember the first time you went off to Iraq. You had no idea what to expect. I barely knew you then except through your mom. She was so upset when you enlisted but she also recognized that you had been having difficulty finding your place in life and prayed that the Marines would fill the hunger in you. You were so young and fresh and eager then.
I talked to your mom for a long time the other night. She didn't cry this time. You have just deployed for your third tour of Iraq. The fear inside her still fills her up for she, too, has lost her innocence. But she has had to learn to trust you and your instincts and your comrades... and God. There were times when I didn't think she would survive Iraq but she is a survivor. You get that from her.
As I lay in the hammock with that hint of late summer in the air...a few lone cicadas buzzing their constant circular song with a gentle breeze rustling the pages in my lap, I remember that you are over there. I send up a silent prayer, as I do every time you cross my mind, and wonder how you are faring. Your mom told me how, when you phoned last week, you told her about the new guys who jumped at the sound of mortars each time and were astounded at you guys who never even flinched. She chuckled.
Once upon a time the mortars frightened you something awful but you learned that most of them don't hit anyone. One time one hit right near you and your buddy and you never even blinked, you'd become so accustomed to them and perhaps to death, too, by then. But then you realized after that... your hands were shaking. Yes, Marine, you are still alive, amazingly and gratefully, still alive.
So, you are probably one of the old men in your unit this time, at 22 isn't it? Respected for your battle scars perhaps, even though they can't be seen. Are you able to sleep yet, friend? Do the nightmares still come? Can you put them aside and rest? Can you be a leader and a role model to these young men that look up to you and teach them the battle skills that they will need to survive the horror they will see out there?
The weight is heavy. I know that most of your buddies didn't survive the 2nd tour. I know that some of those that did are out now and that it was hard for you to see them escape, even as you rejoiced for them. I know that the memories haunt you. But I also know how strong you have become and how beautiful you still are. When you get through this next journey you will have learned some things that some people, most people, never know.
You will know how to rejoice in every day and in every person around you for you know how fragile life is. You won't take anything or anyone for granted the way the rest of us often do. You will have learned that human beings are capable of things that we can't imagine, both great and horrible. You will know that one can survive anything as long as there is hope. You will learn to hope again. You will learn to push aside the most awful of things your memory tries to show you but you will retain it in the back of your mind to make you into a kinder more aware person. You will have learned to trust God in all things and give your burdens to him.
It was a beautiful day here. My prayer for you today is that you find a small piece of beauty out there and share it with someone else.
Go with God.
Dear Marine,
It's September here in Missouri, still hot but with a hint of Autumn in the air today. I walked out to get the mail this afternoon and couldn't resist the hammock in the shade of the peach tree on the trip back to the house. I laid across it, just for a few minutes, as I sorted through today's bills and flyers. There was a sweet thank you note from a friend who had left for college for the first time only 3 weeks ago. I recognized her big round letters and smiled before I even opened it, knowing that the small package I had sent had brought a tiny moment of joy into her exciting, new and homesick world. Then my thoughts turned to you, my faraway friend.
I remember the first time you went off to Iraq. You had no idea what to expect. I barely knew you then except through your mom. She was so upset when you enlisted but she also recognized that you had been having difficulty finding your place in life and prayed that the Marines would fill the hunger in you. You were so young and fresh and eager then.
I talked to your mom for a long time the other night. She didn't cry this time. You have just deployed for your third tour of Iraq. The fear inside her still fills her up for she, too, has lost her innocence. But she has had to learn to trust you and your instincts and your comrades... and God. There were times when I didn't think she would survive Iraq but she is a survivor. You get that from her.
As I lay in the hammock with that hint of late summer in the air...a few lone cicadas buzzing their constant circular song with a gentle breeze rustling the pages in my lap, I remember that you are over there. I send up a silent prayer, as I do every time you cross my mind, and wonder how you are faring. Your mom told me how, when you phoned last week, you told her about the new guys who jumped at the sound of mortars each time and were astounded at you guys who never even flinched. She chuckled.
Once upon a time the mortars frightened you something awful but you learned that most of them don't hit anyone. One time one hit right near you and your buddy and you never even blinked, you'd become so accustomed to them and perhaps to death, too, by then. But then you realized after that... your hands were shaking. Yes, Marine, you are still alive, amazingly and gratefully, still alive.
So, you are probably one of the old men in your unit this time, at 22 isn't it? Respected for your battle scars perhaps, even though they can't be seen. Are you able to sleep yet, friend? Do the nightmares still come? Can you put them aside and rest? Can you be a leader and a role model to these young men that look up to you and teach them the battle skills that they will need to survive the horror they will see out there?
The weight is heavy. I know that most of your buddies didn't survive the 2nd tour. I know that some of those that did are out now and that it was hard for you to see them escape, even as you rejoiced for them. I know that the memories haunt you. But I also know how strong you have become and how beautiful you still are. When you get through this next journey you will have learned some things that some people, most people, never know.
You will know how to rejoice in every day and in every person around you for you know how fragile life is. You won't take anything or anyone for granted the way the rest of us often do. You will have learned that human beings are capable of things that we can't imagine, both great and horrible. You will know that one can survive anything as long as there is hope. You will learn to hope again. You will learn to push aside the most awful of things your memory tries to show you but you will retain it in the back of your mind to make you into a kinder more aware person. You will have learned to trust God in all things and give your burdens to him.
It was a beautiful day here. My prayer for you today is that you find a small piece of beauty out there and share it with someone else.
Go with God.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Do all bloggers go through this? I couldn't wait til I got a chance to get to the computer to blog. To type out my thoughts and share them with the world. I'd stay up late reading & writing. I'd get up early and was still sometimes late to work. I'd check blogs at work, too. I was trying to hide how much time I spending on my rearend in front of my pitifully slow dial-up computer. It was beginning to comsume my thoughts. If I wasn't writing I was thinking about what I would write.
I was craving comments, too, and I had never much cared before who was reading. I became prideful about it. I started writing less about my family and my life and what just spills out of me. I wasn't loving it anymore but it was consuming me. I started to worry about what "my readers" would want to see. ...My Readers.
What a joke I am!
Then suddenly I went all empty. Nothing I had to say seemed worthy of saying to "the public" ... so I stopped. One thing I know is that when you stop writing people stop checking your blog... and I stopped. How could I keep on with nothing relevant to say?
But today I am back... with a clearer head again, I think. Back to the joy of sharing, with the hope that there are still a few folks out there that will find my thoughts interesting but mostly just back to writing to help with my sanity.
If you are reading this, Thank you. I'm back down to earth where I belong. Plodding along and enjoying the journey. If I ever do that again; somebody smack me!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Father God, Please keep me grounded in your love. Help me prioritize my busy life and guide me through it. Amen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Psalm 131 ~ LORD, I have given up my pride and turned away from my arrogance. I am not concerned with great matters or with subjects too difficult for me. Instead, I am content and at peace. As a child lies quietly in its mother's arms, so my heart is quiet within me. Israel, trust in the LORD now and forever!
I was craving comments, too, and I had never much cared before who was reading. I became prideful about it. I started writing less about my family and my life and what just spills out of me. I wasn't loving it anymore but it was consuming me. I started to worry about what "my readers" would want to see. ...My Readers.
What a joke I am!
Then suddenly I went all empty. Nothing I had to say seemed worthy of saying to "the public" ... so I stopped. One thing I know is that when you stop writing people stop checking your blog... and I stopped. How could I keep on with nothing relevant to say?
But today I am back... with a clearer head again, I think. Back to the joy of sharing, with the hope that there are still a few folks out there that will find my thoughts interesting but mostly just back to writing to help with my sanity.
If you are reading this, Thank you. I'm back down to earth where I belong. Plodding along and enjoying the journey. If I ever do that again; somebody smack me!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Father God, Please keep me grounded in your love. Help me prioritize my busy life and guide me through it. Amen
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Psalm 131 ~ LORD, I have given up my pride and turned away from my arrogance. I am not concerned with great matters or with subjects too difficult for me. Instead, I am content and at peace. As a child lies quietly in its mother's arms, so my heart is quiet within me. Israel, trust in the LORD now and forever!
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Her grass was tall… almost too tall to mow. Luann is a friend, who has kept chaperoning church Youth Mission Trips even after her daughter graduated several years ago. She’s a tough cookie and the kids love her.
She lives alone and rents a charming little white farm house with several acres of mowable yard. She’s been divorced for a long time and is a very capable woman… been taking care of herself for years just fine.
Beau was driving down the road after school with his friend Andrew and they noticed Luann’s yard. They knew the long hours she puts in working at the grocery store and knew she would be there til close. They thought it would be a kick for her to find a nice surprise when she got home tired that night so they drove out to our house and loaded up our lawn tractor onto the trailer.
She caught ‘em though when she came home on her dinner break. The surprise was spoiled but she was grateful. Turned out her riding mower was busted and she’d been having to mow it all with a push mower when she could.
I overheard Angus talking to a friend of his on the phone a few days later. He was asking him about the old mower he still had… how much would he want for it? $500? He didn’t think Luann could afford it… maybe he’d just tell her it was $350 and throw in the rest himself…
I smiled inwardly. Angus had just been talking with me about how we need to really watch our expenses with all the college debt we are accumulating on the kids… we should cut back and pay attention to the neccessity of every purchase.
....There’s just some things you don’t cut back on.
Like father, like son.
Like the Father, like the Son.
She lives alone and rents a charming little white farm house with several acres of mowable yard. She’s been divorced for a long time and is a very capable woman… been taking care of herself for years just fine.
Beau was driving down the road after school with his friend Andrew and they noticed Luann’s yard. They knew the long hours she puts in working at the grocery store and knew she would be there til close. They thought it would be a kick for her to find a nice surprise when she got home tired that night so they drove out to our house and loaded up our lawn tractor onto the trailer.
She caught ‘em though when she came home on her dinner break. The surprise was spoiled but she was grateful. Turned out her riding mower was busted and she’d been having to mow it all with a push mower when she could.
I overheard Angus talking to a friend of his on the phone a few days later. He was asking him about the old mower he still had… how much would he want for it? $500? He didn’t think Luann could afford it… maybe he’d just tell her it was $350 and throw in the rest himself…
I smiled inwardly. Angus had just been talking with me about how we need to really watch our expenses with all the college debt we are accumulating on the kids… we should cut back and pay attention to the neccessity of every purchase.
....There’s just some things you don’t cut back on.
Like father, like son.
Like the Father, like the Son.
Friday, April 20, 2007
It was Saturday evening and Rob had just picked up his daughter after track practice. He headed for home but pulled into the gas station for a cup of coffee. Amanda questioned this since he didn’t usually drink coffee in the evening but he replied that he just felt the urge to stop. He paid for the steaming brew and overheard the clerk and another customer discussing the woman out there with the flat tire problem. He headed straight for her car as he exited, intending to help her change it.
The next morning I entered church and said “Hi” to Rob sitting on the back row. I found my way up to the front and wondered why he wasn’t sitting with his family when I noticed that they were in their usual spot.
The service began with a loud, upbeat praise song. The amplified guitar sounded extremely loud and the drummer seemed to be trying to drown out the guitar. Did anyone else notice how loud and irritating it was?
My right ear was throbbing when I realized it must be sensitive from the cold I was getting over. I literally couldn’t take it. It hurt! I felt kinda rude standing there with my hand over my ear so I slipped out of the row and took a seat at the back right next to Rob. Ah, that was better.
Suddenly the older woman sitting on the other side of Rob began to cough. Rob handed her a Kleenex from his back pocket and then slipped out of the sanctuary. She continued to cough. I dug in my purse and handed her a handful of cough drops and she received them gratefully. She popped one in her mouth and it seemed to give her some relief. Rob returned a few minutes later with a bottle of water for her.
I was pondering the possibility that my ear problem was a God-thing to get me to the back of the church with my cough drops. I didn’t realize that Rob was an even bigger part of God’s little plan for this woman. I thought she might be his mom but I learned the real story later.
The woman had been traveling in an old beat up vehicle, escaping a domestic abuse situation and on her way to Texas. She had a flat tire and exited right here in our town and found her way to the gas station where Rob had stopped for his coffee. She didn’t have a spare tire. Rob called around and there was nowhere open that had what she needed. He ended up putting her up in a local motel, inviting her to church with him, buying her lunch and a new tire and sending her on her way.
I can’t help but think how God’ timing is so perfect. There were so many things that fell into place. She seemed so full of joy and gratitude when I met her. That’s what hope looks like.
Just another small miracle brought to you by God (with a little help from his servant, Rob).
The next morning I entered church and said “Hi” to Rob sitting on the back row. I found my way up to the front and wondered why he wasn’t sitting with his family when I noticed that they were in their usual spot.
The service began with a loud, upbeat praise song. The amplified guitar sounded extremely loud and the drummer seemed to be trying to drown out the guitar. Did anyone else notice how loud and irritating it was?
My right ear was throbbing when I realized it must be sensitive from the cold I was getting over. I literally couldn’t take it. It hurt! I felt kinda rude standing there with my hand over my ear so I slipped out of the row and took a seat at the back right next to Rob. Ah, that was better.
Suddenly the older woman sitting on the other side of Rob began to cough. Rob handed her a Kleenex from his back pocket and then slipped out of the sanctuary. She continued to cough. I dug in my purse and handed her a handful of cough drops and she received them gratefully. She popped one in her mouth and it seemed to give her some relief. Rob returned a few minutes later with a bottle of water for her.
I was pondering the possibility that my ear problem was a God-thing to get me to the back of the church with my cough drops. I didn’t realize that Rob was an even bigger part of God’s little plan for this woman. I thought she might be his mom but I learned the real story later.
The woman had been traveling in an old beat up vehicle, escaping a domestic abuse situation and on her way to Texas. She had a flat tire and exited right here in our town and found her way to the gas station where Rob had stopped for his coffee. She didn’t have a spare tire. Rob called around and there was nowhere open that had what she needed. He ended up putting her up in a local motel, inviting her to church with him, buying her lunch and a new tire and sending her on her way.
I can’t help but think how God’ timing is so perfect. There were so many things that fell into place. She seemed so full of joy and gratitude when I met her. That’s what hope looks like.
Just another small miracle brought to you by God (with a little help from his servant, Rob).
Friday, February 23, 2007
I really needed a day like today… a day filled with joy. There was nothing special about the day really, nothing I can put my finger on except in the way I felt, the way I reacted to everyday things all day long. A day filled with joy.
The “why” today was different is harder to identify. I‘m pretty sure it was all in my attitude but why my attitude was better than usual? That I‘m not sure. Was God speaking to me?
I woke before the alarm and got up and soaked in a hot bath. Yes, a slower start to a day than a shower would be but much easier on the nerves, like the difference between waking to an alarm or to the rising sunshine filtering into the bedroom.
I ate an orange while the coffee brewed and then sat down and read the Bible. I usually do some kind of quick morning devotion but today I sat in my favorite chair, with my old, highlighted, scribbled-in, easy-to-read Today’s English Version, Good News Bible. I opened it to the book of Matthew and just started reading, not really to study so much as to enjoy, to experience it, like reading an ancient diary, yet as familiar as the old family photo album. I read ‘til time to head to work.
So, my day started softly and with a Bible in my lap. Is that why my focus was different? Is that why I was more compassionate with the steady stream of boys in trouble? Is that why I was more tolerant of the staff needing help during my lunch time or when I was busy? Is that why I was more generous with my reservoir of kind words? Is that why today it occurred to me that most of the parents that come through our doors are doing the best they can with the skills and experiences that they have and they love their kids as much as I love mine.
The whole day went like that with much laughter and many smiles. A good, God-given gift of a day, filled from dawn to dusk with joy!
The “why” today was different is harder to identify. I‘m pretty sure it was all in my attitude but why my attitude was better than usual? That I‘m not sure. Was God speaking to me?
I woke before the alarm and got up and soaked in a hot bath. Yes, a slower start to a day than a shower would be but much easier on the nerves, like the difference between waking to an alarm or to the rising sunshine filtering into the bedroom.
I ate an orange while the coffee brewed and then sat down and read the Bible. I usually do some kind of quick morning devotion but today I sat in my favorite chair, with my old, highlighted, scribbled-in, easy-to-read Today’s English Version, Good News Bible. I opened it to the book of Matthew and just started reading, not really to study so much as to enjoy, to experience it, like reading an ancient diary, yet as familiar as the old family photo album. I read ‘til time to head to work.
So, my day started softly and with a Bible in my lap. Is that why my focus was different? Is that why I was more compassionate with the steady stream of boys in trouble? Is that why I was more tolerant of the staff needing help during my lunch time or when I was busy? Is that why I was more generous with my reservoir of kind words? Is that why today it occurred to me that most of the parents that come through our doors are doing the best they can with the skills and experiences that they have and they love their kids as much as I love mine.
The whole day went like that with much laughter and many smiles. A good, God-given gift of a day, filled from dawn to dusk with joy!
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
I tell myself that I’m not into “having things” and I suppose by American standards it’s true. But by worldwide measurement, I know that I am a glutton for my comforts. I can rationalize all I want to but I am an American… and I am so grateful that I am. I sometimes feel guilty that I have so much… but not quite guilty enough to give much of it up. Last year I had these feelings big time after my return from the Hurricane Relief trip to Gautier, Mississippi… but those feelings of guilt faded over the months.
Two weeks ago my dryer stopped working…one minute it was tumbling and drying and all was well. I took the nice warm clothes out of it and put the cold wet sheets into it and pushed the button and …NOTHING. Just nothing. I called Angus at work and gave him my sad story. We decided it must the motor and discussed how expensive it is to have appliances worked on and how they charge $50 just to come out and look and just how old was that dryer anyway?
Our first dryer came with our first house. It lasted through three moves and thousands of cycles of cloth diapers and sleepers, jeans and sweatshirts and towels. I kept going for some twenty years or so with only a belt replacement. The only criteria I had when we finally had to replace the old dryer was that it have a buzzer on it. We can’t remember how old this buzzered dryer is but we do know it is nowhere near 20 years old….maybe five… or possibly eight.
The next day we went shopping for a replacement dryer. The first thing I noticed was that dryers, though very simple machines, are more expensive that I realized. The second thing I saw was that the warranty on most dryers is only one year!
We wandered around looking at all the fancy features that we didn’t need. We didn’t say much. We both had sticker shock. I’d already had to drape sheets all over the ping-pong table and the furniture in the basement to dry. I had also hung a load of towels out on the line on a nice 20° day. Not fun.
I was thinking that everyone was getting pretty low on clean underwear and we’d have to buy something. Suddenly Angus made a decision, “I think I’ll go home and take another look at that dryer. It might just be the button on the door is bad.”
The parts place gave Angus a couple of ideas and showed him how to look for the problem and tested some parts he brought in. They were so helpful! It turned out to be a fuse. Who knew dryers had fuses?! The cost was $6.00 and a couple of trips into the city and, yes, I had to wash undies and hang them out.
Yesterday I washed several loads of laundry with a new appreciation for the dryer. I take it for granted like I do most other luxuries that we, Americans, consider to be necessities. I think we walk a fine line. We want to help and I think we DO help out a lot. I give what I consider to be a decent amount of my income and time to help out those in need and to serve but I usually stop when it gets uncomfortable. I give right up to the edge of my comfort zone and then I stop.
Here’s what I mean. I give! but not so much that it will mean I’ll have to give up my ski trip. I give! as long as I can still have enough left over to keep my season tickets to the dinner theater. I give! but my friends won’t respect me if I’m not at least fairly fashionable. I give! If I have time, but my time is precious.
You get the idea. I don't feel rich. I think I feel scared. I'm scared if I give away too much I might have to hang out my laundry forever. Wouldn't that be awful?
I’m pretty sure God wants me to give beyond what’s comfortable for me. Why can't I trust that he will take care of my needs? Well, I do believe that... but will he take care of my wants? Don't I deserve a few nice things?
I’m pretty sure there are dividends for sacrificial giving. I’m trying to do better this year, to be better. I am impatient with myself even though I do see change. Do you think God will be satisfied with my baby steps? Does God use broken dryers and dirty laundry to help us regain our perspective? I can do more. I will.
Two weeks ago my dryer stopped working…one minute it was tumbling and drying and all was well. I took the nice warm clothes out of it and put the cold wet sheets into it and pushed the button and …NOTHING. Just nothing. I called Angus at work and gave him my sad story. We decided it must the motor and discussed how expensive it is to have appliances worked on and how they charge $50 just to come out and look and just how old was that dryer anyway?
Our first dryer came with our first house. It lasted through three moves and thousands of cycles of cloth diapers and sleepers, jeans and sweatshirts and towels. I kept going for some twenty years or so with only a belt replacement. The only criteria I had when we finally had to replace the old dryer was that it have a buzzer on it. We can’t remember how old this buzzered dryer is but we do know it is nowhere near 20 years old….maybe five… or possibly eight.
The next day we went shopping for a replacement dryer. The first thing I noticed was that dryers, though very simple machines, are more expensive that I realized. The second thing I saw was that the warranty on most dryers is only one year!
We wandered around looking at all the fancy features that we didn’t need. We didn’t say much. We both had sticker shock. I’d already had to drape sheets all over the ping-pong table and the furniture in the basement to dry. I had also hung a load of towels out on the line on a nice 20° day. Not fun.
I was thinking that everyone was getting pretty low on clean underwear and we’d have to buy something. Suddenly Angus made a decision, “I think I’ll go home and take another look at that dryer. It might just be the button on the door is bad.”
The parts place gave Angus a couple of ideas and showed him how to look for the problem and tested some parts he brought in. They were so helpful! It turned out to be a fuse. Who knew dryers had fuses?! The cost was $6.00 and a couple of trips into the city and, yes, I had to wash undies and hang them out.
Yesterday I washed several loads of laundry with a new appreciation for the dryer. I take it for granted like I do most other luxuries that we, Americans, consider to be necessities. I think we walk a fine line. We want to help and I think we DO help out a lot. I give what I consider to be a decent amount of my income and time to help out those in need and to serve but I usually stop when it gets uncomfortable. I give right up to the edge of my comfort zone and then I stop.
Here’s what I mean. I give! but not so much that it will mean I’ll have to give up my ski trip. I give! as long as I can still have enough left over to keep my season tickets to the dinner theater. I give! but my friends won’t respect me if I’m not at least fairly fashionable. I give! If I have time, but my time is precious.
You get the idea. I don't feel rich. I think I feel scared. I'm scared if I give away too much I might have to hang out my laundry forever. Wouldn't that be awful?
I’m pretty sure God wants me to give beyond what’s comfortable for me. Why can't I trust that he will take care of my needs? Well, I do believe that... but will he take care of my wants? Don't I deserve a few nice things?
I’m pretty sure there are dividends for sacrificial giving. I’m trying to do better this year, to be better. I am impatient with myself even though I do see change. Do you think God will be satisfied with my baby steps? Does God use broken dryers and dirty laundry to help us regain our perspective? I can do more. I will.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Yesterday I noticed seven God moments. That both pleases me and shames me. My goal is to one day see my whole day filled with them! Finding four God moments was my previous "record" so you see why seven feels good and why I am eager to notice more of them.
My Definition of a God Moment and Why I Want More:
I'll begin by mentioning one of my most amazing God moments. I was driving one night on the hilly road that leads to our home. It's a dark wooded area with no houses, just trees lining both sides of the road. I don't remember what I was thinking about but whatever it vanished the second I topped the hill.
There before me at the top of the next hill was a gigantic full moon right smack in the middle of the horizon. It looked as if the trees had parted for it like the red sea for Moses. The road was leading right to this gorgeous moon and I was driving toward it! It was slightly eery, totally amazing and filled me with wonder at the joy and beauty before me.
I actually stopped the car in the middle of the hill to take it all in. I knew, like all God moments, that it would be fleeting. I drove on home, grabbed my camera and went back but everything had already changed. A cloud had partially overtaken the moon and it was higher in the sky already, not lifting up from the earth itself any longer as it had appeared only minutes earlier. It doesnt really matter because, I still have that picture in my memory. That was a wonderful God moment.
They are all wonderful and usually much more simple. A God moment is a snapshot in time when I notice the presence of God.
I am trying to get closer to God this year. I've been through a small group study called "God is Closer Than You Think" based on the book of the same name by Jonn Ortberg. I've read the book Does God Believe In You? by Keith R. Anderson and it is right at the top of my favorite reading and rereading right along with an old favorite Attitudes of Gratitude by M.J. Ryan. Everything I read and learn and feel tells me that God is right here with us every single minute of life... if only we would notice. If we feel far from God it is not because God has moved away from us. He is calling our names but we aren't listening. We aren't paying attention! I know this is true and I am working on being a better listener.
Recognizing my God moments is part of my exercise to get my heart muscle in the right place to see God's presence everywhere. When I look back on my day I often see that there were many, many times when God was revealing himself but I missed them. ...The hugs from the kids at school, a shared moment with a friend, a compassionate prayer by a Jr. High kid at Bible Study, Beau singing so loud to the radio in his room that it can be heard clear out in the kitchen. I was too caught up in the busyness of my day and my own thoughts to recognize it as a God moment!
So, I'm working on that. I want to recognize God everywhere I look. I know he is there trying to get my attention in his own subtle ways. Will I ever pay attention?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1 Kings 19:11 &12
Then he was told, "Go, stand on the mountain at attention before GOD. GOD will pass by." A hurricane wind ripped through the mountains and shattered the rocks before GOD, but GOD wasn't to be found in the wind; after the wind an earthquake, but GOD wasn't in the earthquake; and after the earthquake fire, but GOD wasn't in the fire; and after the fire a gentle and quiet whisper.
There before me at the top of the next hill was a gigantic full moon right smack in the middle of the horizon. It looked as if the trees had parted for it like the red sea for Moses. The road was leading right to this gorgeous moon and I was driving toward it! It was slightly eery, totally amazing and filled me with wonder at the joy and beauty before me.
I actually stopped the car in the middle of the hill to take it all in. I knew, like all God moments, that it would be fleeting. I drove on home, grabbed my camera and went back but everything had already changed. A cloud had partially overtaken the moon and it was higher in the sky already, not lifting up from the earth itself any longer as it had appeared only minutes earlier. It doesnt really matter because, I still have that picture in my memory. That was a wonderful God moment.
They are all wonderful and usually much more simple. A God moment is a snapshot in time when I notice the presence of God.
I am trying to get closer to God this year. I've been through a small group study called "God is Closer Than You Think" based on the book of the same name by Jonn Ortberg. I've read the book Does God Believe In You? by Keith R. Anderson and it is right at the top of my favorite reading and rereading right along with an old favorite Attitudes of Gratitude by M.J. Ryan. Everything I read and learn and feel tells me that God is right here with us every single minute of life... if only we would notice. If we feel far from God it is not because God has moved away from us. He is calling our names but we aren't listening. We aren't paying attention! I know this is true and I am working on being a better listener.
Recognizing my God moments is part of my exercise to get my heart muscle in the right place to see God's presence everywhere. When I look back on my day I often see that there were many, many times when God was revealing himself but I missed them. ...The hugs from the kids at school, a shared moment with a friend, a compassionate prayer by a Jr. High kid at Bible Study, Beau singing so loud to the radio in his room that it can be heard clear out in the kitchen. I was too caught up in the busyness of my day and my own thoughts to recognize it as a God moment!
So, I'm working on that. I want to recognize God everywhere I look. I know he is there trying to get my attention in his own subtle ways. Will I ever pay attention?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1 Kings 19:11 &12
Then he was told, "Go, stand on the mountain at attention before GOD. GOD will pass by." A hurricane wind ripped through the mountains and shattered the rocks before GOD, but GOD wasn't to be found in the wind; after the wind an earthquake, but GOD wasn't in the earthquake; and after the earthquake fire, but GOD wasn't in the fire; and after the fire a gentle and quiet whisper.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
I was driving to work on only four and a half hours of sleep. I'd been off for 2 weeks for the holidays and was having trouble adjusting back to the "go to bed early & wake up early" routine. I'd been allowing myself to wake up naturally and it felt so good! But yesterday it was back to rising before the sun and dressing in the dark while my husband who works nights still slept. I'd stayed up way too late the night before and knew I would pay the price for that as the day wore on. But it was the beginning of a new year and it felt good to be looking at the future.
My 15 minute morning drive along the back roads is always a spiritual, praying, thinking and readying time for me. The low light of dawn is conducive to peaceful and rejuvenating thought. I needed that as I headed back to work (and the "real" world) .
I had just rounded a bend when I suddenly saw the full moon low in the darkened, tri-colored sky. There was a brilliant star low beside it and it shown so brightly that it looked a promise. The Morning Star. It looked like a beautiful, surreal watercolor painting. The colorful sky, the full moon, the brilliant morning star and the perfect timing & feeling of heading into a brand new year... it lifted me to a place of hope.
Okay, so I know that the star was really a planet, probably Venus, but that does not take away my joy of that very moment. I have never seen anything like that before and I will take that image with me and remember it. I will pull that painting from my brain it will remind me of the feelings I had. Brains and memories are good for that. I'll think of this new year and of hope and that God gives us a renewed strength when we need a fresh start. It always amazes me that God gives us just what we need when we need it. He knows before we ask and it is just there waiting for us to notice.
I wonder how many times I don't.
My 15 minute morning drive along the back roads is always a spiritual, praying, thinking and readying time for me. The low light of dawn is conducive to peaceful and rejuvenating thought. I needed that as I headed back to work (and the "real" world) .
I had just rounded a bend when I suddenly saw the full moon low in the darkened, tri-colored sky. There was a brilliant star low beside it and it shown so brightly that it looked a promise. The Morning Star. It looked like a beautiful, surreal watercolor painting. The colorful sky, the full moon, the brilliant morning star and the perfect timing & feeling of heading into a brand new year... it lifted me to a place of hope.
Okay, so I know that the star was really a planet, probably Venus, but that does not take away my joy of that very moment. I have never seen anything like that before and I will take that image with me and remember it. I will pull that painting from my brain it will remind me of the feelings I had. Brains and memories are good for that. I'll think of this new year and of hope and that God gives us a renewed strength when we need a fresh start. It always amazes me that God gives us just what we need when we need it. He knows before we ask and it is just there waiting for us to notice.
I wonder how many times I don't.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
I felt like Jack looking out from a stem of his beanstalk...all up in the air and surrounded by a cloud. I had just awakened and went to the window just like I do most mornings....thanking God for the day ahead and asking his guidance. I love this window view. It's as if I have the most wonderful painting and it is always changing, surprising me with something new or something I had not noticed before.
Today it was the fog. It was a wispy fog, hence the feeling of being in a cloud. I felt light and happy. Here it is just a few days before Christmas and I had hardly given it a thought. I had done just the minimal Christmas gifting and baking and only when "required" for work or for church. I hadn't made a Christmas list or decorated or even put the tree up.
I had been busy with something else that was consuming all my time and thoughts and energy. It was somthing important that needed to be planned and carried out and done right. I was taking care of that stuff and meeting with other people working on that project. Angus was understanding and the boys were tolerant. They knew this was a labor of love for me...not something I had to do but something I wanted to do. But it was wearing me down, I think.
Anyway, last night the event took place and ended in a beautiful worship service. Now I am on to Christmas and I suddenly feel happy and lifted up. It's as if I missed all the Christmas "have to" stuff and found out that, hey, guess what? it's not really "have to" stuff after all. I didn't have to get the house decorated right after Thanksgiving and I didn't have to get the tree up or bake cookies or shop, shop, shop. Christmas is still coming even without that and I feel good about it. This has been the least commercial, least secularish Christmas season.
I think we actually stopped the Christmas machine!
Something about waking up in a cloud made me feel nearer to God and that is how I have felt ever since. I have not explained it very well. I guess, I just didn't let the pressure (mostly self-imposed) that usually goes along with Christmas get to me. I was just too busy to notice that it was approaching, put it at the back of my mind, still participating in what I thought was important and just blowing off the rest of it. Life is good!
Today it was the fog. It was a wispy fog, hence the feeling of being in a cloud. I felt light and happy. Here it is just a few days before Christmas and I had hardly given it a thought. I had done just the minimal Christmas gifting and baking and only when "required" for work or for church. I hadn't made a Christmas list or decorated or even put the tree up.
I had been busy with something else that was consuming all my time and thoughts and energy. It was somthing important that needed to be planned and carried out and done right. I was taking care of that stuff and meeting with other people working on that project. Angus was understanding and the boys were tolerant. They knew this was a labor of love for me...not something I had to do but something I wanted to do. But it was wearing me down, I think.
Anyway, last night the event took place and ended in a beautiful worship service. Now I am on to Christmas and I suddenly feel happy and lifted up. It's as if I missed all the Christmas "have to" stuff and found out that, hey, guess what? it's not really "have to" stuff after all. I didn't have to get the house decorated right after Thanksgiving and I didn't have to get the tree up or bake cookies or shop, shop, shop. Christmas is still coming even without that and I feel good about it. This has been the least commercial, least secularish Christmas season.
I think we actually stopped the Christmas machine!
Something about waking up in a cloud made me feel nearer to God and that is how I have felt ever since. I have not explained it very well. I guess, I just didn't let the pressure (mostly self-imposed) that usually goes along with Christmas get to me. I was just too busy to notice that it was approaching, put it at the back of my mind, still participating in what I thought was important and just blowing off the rest of it. Life is good!
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
I had a dream last night. AJ is the 6 year old son of my boss. He comes by my desk every morning on his way to his dad’s office and he always pauses to say “Hi”. After school he’s back again. He bursts into the office to tell me where he will be until his Dad is ready to leave. He likes to feed my fish.
In my dream, AJ came to me and told me that he was hurt. I could tell he wasn’t really hurt. It was that kind of hurt where a Mom can kiss it away and I began to explain that to him. I told him how if someone that cared about him would rub it or kiss it or do some other kind of Mommy-magic on his “wound” he would totally forget about the pain. I talked on and on and explained it all to this little child who had come to me with his injury. Then I woke up.
My first thought was “Why hadn’t I just shown him I cared and given him a hug?" I yammered away at him and all he really needed was to know that someone cared and loved him. Love is a verb. ♥
Is that what I do? Do I just talk at people saying pretty things and giving unsolicited advice when all they need is a little love? Is God trying to tell me something? ♥
As I drove to work I thought about the people that have really been there for us lately. Two weeks ago when my father-in-law died it was not a surprise. We have a large family and we gathered immediately. People who knew about wanted to help us. I couldn’t think of anything we needed and said so, but that did not stop people from helping anyway. ♥
Food from our church family was taken into the city and food was brought to our house, too. Flowers were sent and donations made to Hospice. Friends made the trek into the city for the visitation or the funeral. We didn’t really expect that. ♥
Zeke’s ex-girlfriend let him borrow her car so that we wouldn’t have to make the 6 hours drive up to retrieve him. She didn’t have to do it, we didn’t expect her to but she did it anyway. ♥
Every day we get cards in the mail still. An acquaintance brought a basket of muffins on Monday. Today a friend sent another meal, telling me she remembers when her Gramma passed away that it was hard a couple of weeks after when things had settled down and she thought we would need to get together again. I think she is right. ♥
Some nice, well-meaning people have said “I’ll pray for you” but I don’t think they really will. It’s just something nice to say. Am I like that? Do I say “I’ll pray” and then promptly forget about it? Am I too busy to give of myself when needed?
We could have done without the food and the flowers and the cards but the genuine love that moved the giver to action... that we needed! The hugs and prayers… those we needed. ♥
Love is a verb. Yes, it is.
♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
In my dream, AJ came to me and told me that he was hurt. I could tell he wasn’t really hurt. It was that kind of hurt where a Mom can kiss it away and I began to explain that to him. I told him how if someone that cared about him would rub it or kiss it or do some other kind of Mommy-magic on his “wound” he would totally forget about the pain. I talked on and on and explained it all to this little child who had come to me with his injury. Then I woke up.
My first thought was “Why hadn’t I just shown him I cared and given him a hug?" I yammered away at him and all he really needed was to know that someone cared and loved him. Love is a verb. ♥
Is that what I do? Do I just talk at people saying pretty things and giving unsolicited advice when all they need is a little love? Is God trying to tell me something? ♥
As I drove to work I thought about the people that have really been there for us lately. Two weeks ago when my father-in-law died it was not a surprise. We have a large family and we gathered immediately. People who knew about wanted to help us. I couldn’t think of anything we needed and said so, but that did not stop people from helping anyway. ♥
Food from our church family was taken into the city and food was brought to our house, too. Flowers were sent and donations made to Hospice. Friends made the trek into the city for the visitation or the funeral. We didn’t really expect that. ♥
Zeke’s ex-girlfriend let him borrow her car so that we wouldn’t have to make the 6 hours drive up to retrieve him. She didn’t have to do it, we didn’t expect her to but she did it anyway. ♥
Every day we get cards in the mail still. An acquaintance brought a basket of muffins on Monday. Today a friend sent another meal, telling me she remembers when her Gramma passed away that it was hard a couple of weeks after when things had settled down and she thought we would need to get together again. I think she is right. ♥
Some nice, well-meaning people have said “I’ll pray for you” but I don’t think they really will. It’s just something nice to say. Am I like that? Do I say “I’ll pray” and then promptly forget about it? Am I too busy to give of myself when needed?
We could have done without the food and the flowers and the cards but the genuine love that moved the giver to action... that we needed! The hugs and prayers… those we needed. ♥
Love is a verb. Yes, it is.
♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)