My son, Beau, lives in Denver and wouldn't be home for Thanksgiving but was able to get the weekend off before Thanksgiving, to go to a friend's wedding in KC.  He and his girlfriend decided  to drive through the night so they'd have as much time as possible with family. (Who needs sleep when you are 24 years old?)  During  Joy's turn to drive she ran the car out of gas at 3 AM, trying to make it to the next town, 17 miles short of Salina.  She woke Bo.  After some discussion, flashers on, cars passing, temps in the 20°s and car cooling fast, they decided to walk to the next mile marker to find out where they were exactly before trying to call for help.  Cars passed.  They were worried, scared and COLD.  Just as they got back to their car a man going the opposite direction pulled off the highway and ran across to them. 

He had been driving to Salina and had seen their stopped car and when he looked back in his mirror he saw the flashers on and them standing outside of their car.  He was too far past them to help by then so he drove on to Salina, then turned around and came back to help them!  Then he drove them on to the next town to get gas and brought them back to their car before continuing on his way.

I just can't get over how this guy went SO far out of his way for strangers that he wasn't even sure needed help, really.  There are so many ways this story could have ended with a far less happy ending.  I wanted to share what a difference a random act can have.   There is so much bad news in the world today.  We need to hear and share these stories when we know them.  Just sharing them is kind of an RAK in itself because it spreads hope.  

If I had been traveling on I-35 that night, I'd have been like that guy, looking up in my mirror, wondering if those folks need help, weighing the possibilities.  Realizing I was too far past them anyway, I'd have gone on.  I'd have sent up a prayer, and maybe others in those passing cars did that, too.  I'd probably have regretted I hadn't stopped but I wouldn't have gone back to check on them.  So, praise to God, that there are those willing to take a risk, to go out of their way, to give help and hope.  Let them be a shining  example to the rest of us. ♥

I recently came across the photo that was taken right before my youngest son, Beau, left to make a life in Denver at the end of July.  He and his girlfriend, Joy, had just graduated from college.  They had no jobs waiting for them but were going to sleep on the floor of a friend’s apartment until they could find something.   I pulled up this picture and enlarged it on my computer to see our smiling faces.  Everyone looks good.  Happy. 

Look closer.   Maybe you won’t notice, if you don’t know that we are usually a family full of silly.  We pose with wide grins that shine right up to our eyes, but there is sadness in these smiles.  We are happy for one another but there is no joy in these melancholy smiles.

I knew when Beau graduated he would be off seeking adventures and a life of his own.  This is the way it should be. I know that.  My goal as a parent has been to prepare my kids to leave us and make a place for themselves in the real world and to follow God’s lead in making it more beautiful.  I really do want that. 

There were no tears when they left, only happiness, and cheer and excitement.  Angus and I hugged them off and waved farewell.  Even as I stood and watched their jam-packed cars pull away, I knew we were entering a new stage in our life. They were not the first of our children to go off but they are the last.  A little place inside me went empty right then. But life goes on and I turned back toward the house and let it feel normal.  We still have Kev and CJ and their wonderful wives, and our beautiful grandchildren are all 4 close by.  That is a wonderful blessing in itself!

The best and the worst of life is that it is always moving, always changing,  unpredictable and we have to make choices that are difficult.  The changes can be wonderful or heartbreaking.  Usually it's somewhere in between that but life goes on.  We can fight against it but it comes.  Be ready (and willing?).  

Lord, give me the strength and and insight to move with it.  Don’t let me be left behind and go all stagnant.  Lead me to new adventures.  Grow me in ways that I can’t even imagine yet!

Fearless

I just discovered this little piece I wrote a few years ago but never published.  Interesting to look at it with today's eyes:

The desire to matter. I'm reading the book Fearless by Max Lucado and I have just discovered that one of my greatest fears in life is quite common. I want to make a difference. At my age I am wondering if it is too late, if I passed so many opportunities due to laziness, or busyness or fear that I won't be given any more chances. I got to thinking about that and it occurred to me that this is probably why those of us with older children start getting a bit controlling almost manic in our persuasions for our kids to accomplish something. It's why we take such pride in their achievements. If I haven't made much of a difference to the world in my so-small life maybe I can still count it if one of my kids does something worthy! After all, I had a pretty big hand in making them what they are today.... right?  My kids are mostly grown now. Will I be able claim greatness through one of them?

My first born, CJ, was an amazing child! (chuckle) He crawled at 5 months, walking, running, by 8 monts, an adventurous toddler. He'd probably grow up to be a professional athlete or something. He amazed us by learning to read by watching the words as I read books to him, was reading on his own before kindergarten... a boy genius! He'd probably end up being a scientist or something. In first grade his teacher recommended he be tested for the gifted program because he was so advanced. Wow! He'd probably become a world leader or something. LOL

So it has been with Kev, Zeke and Beau. Each has their own rare and wonderful talents and personalities and dreams. None is a high achiever or ambitious. I suppose that since I was so ready to claim their victories I should also admit that they are what they are in part because we didn't push. We just encouraged them be what they were meant to be. 

Yet, am I not disappointed. CJ is intelligent and can carry out a lively conversation. He's the one who is most willing to come over to help us out and as well as just stop by to visit. He married Ana and she has been a lovely addition to our heavily-testosteroned family. They gave us a grandson, too, in little Blue. I had no idea a grandchild could bring such joy to my heart and my life.

Kev has grown into a man who is kind and thoughtful. He's the romantic, too, and is marrying in April. He loves children and will be an incredible daddy some day.  I am so pleased with how he has turned out.

Zeke is fresh out of college and trying to find that special place where he can serve God. He'd like nothing better than to drop out of society's expectations.  He can be quite inspiring with his genuine love for God, is never preachy and has an ability to understand others' views.

Bo is the one that makes everyone smile.  Even when you don't want to.  He marches to his own drum and his drum is fun. Pretty much raised by his brothers, he got a little piece of the best of each of them. He is care-free (about what you think of him) but is deeply caring (about being a good person).

My sons are all lovely, wonderful, giving, non-ambitious men. They, no doubt, will each make a mark in their world but I can't claim it. I'll have to do that on my own. And it is not too late. God isn't finished with me yet either.

Farther on down the road...

It's been a year and a half since I've typed any words into this old blog and before that it was very sporadic. It was 7 years ago when I first started blogging and I took to it instantly. My sons were teens then; life was full of adventure and fun. My life was interesting... at least I thought so. You know, never a dull moment? I actually developed a small following! But life moves on and so have the boys. I took less joy in writing about it all as I felt the pressure of people watching. It was taking up so much precious time, as well, writing about life instead of living it. It was becoming an ego trip. So I pretty much dropped out a few years ago, only occasionally finding something worthy of sharing.

Life still intrigues me! It is different now in so many ways, but better than ever. Beau, my son who once told me he would always be my baby even when he is a grown-up cowboy, just moved into an apartment in the city as he finishes his last year of college. Zeke took off in January, for adventure while he is still young enough to live on nothing but life and is in Nashville, right now. Kev and CJ both married wonderful women and have each given us two grandsons and still live nearby. Angus is thinking about retiring but can’t quite bring himself to do it.

Now, no one is looking again. I am not a writer, only an aging woman who looks at life, knows it is good, and wants to remember it. I think I will replay some of the events of the last few years and then, well, I know the adventure will continue!

Many blessings ♥

Hazel

I have a dear friend who is a God-fearing woman.  Dua is one of the few people on this planet with whom I can, and do, have deep and meaningful discussions about God.  She challenges my thinking and I challenge hers.  We both grow from it.  I feel so blessed to have this kind of relationship with her.

There is a thing that she and I haven't agreed on but has made me stop and really think about my own beliefs and why I believe them.  I think this is a good thing to do, don't you?  Dua believes that some of the bad stuff that happens to us, or to our loved ones, is a punishment for our behavior.   She can even give some compelling contemporary examples.

I have never understood the thing about fearing God, although I admit the scriptures are rampant in the Old Testament.  I haven't found anything like that in the new testament though; nothing since Jesus made his ultimate sacrifice for the sins of mankind.  Everything I can find, everything I know, everything inside me, tells me that God Is Love. 

I love my children and I punished them when it was needed.  I learned this early with my first-born, strong-willed child: Spanking doesn't really work in the way we want it to.  It always left me with a sense of frustration and shame that I had resorted to that, usually because I couldn't think of anything better at the time.  I'm pretty sure God can think of something much more affective.  While the swat would stop CJ's behavior it did not prevent it from happening again and it made for lots of anger from both of us and the effect was a power struggle. 

When gentle Kevin came along it was very different.  A light swat on his seat would just about broke his little heart.  He seemed so humiliated and hurt.  I do not believe that God wants to crush our spirit or cause us to shudder at the mention of his name.

Okay, so my point is : God is love.  In fact, I believe that God is love in its purest form.  I am a child of God - meaning: I'm God's and I'm still a child (spiritually-speaking), and have a lot to learn.   He wants to teach me and help me grow and inspire me to be all I can be.  He wants me to "get it" and do all the wonderful things he has planned for me but he knows all of my weaknesses (that go hand-in-hand with my strengths) and is patient with my failures and wanderings and distractions.  He guides me with love, always that pure love that doesn't have to resort to showing me his power because he has no need to prove it.  He is confident enough in his own omnipotence and feels no challenge when we question it. 

Before I had children of my own I remember when my neice screamed at my sister-in-law  "I HATE YOU!" I was shocked and horrified. Di calmly and lovingly wrapped her arms around Jodie and whispered "I know you hate me right now but I still love you."  I think this is what God does with us.  He loves us through it all.

That doesn't mean that he gives us everything we think we want.  It doesn't mean he doesn't let horrible things happen.  I think he even intentionally places roadblocks in our way sometimes to get us where we need to be.  I'm not saying the challenges he gives us don't seem extremely harsh.  I'm just saying his love is perfect and if we lean into it instead of away from it, he will hold us.  He will use whatever is going on to strengthen us or get us to the place we need to be.  That is not a punishment but a consequence.  It might be a consequence of some decision of our own or of someone else or even of society; no matter.  He will love us through it - holding us up if we will let him or standing right by our side if we try to turn away.

Dua is a prayer warrior and loves God with a faith and passion I can only dream about.  She was raised Catholic so she comes from a different perspective of this life-long Methodist.  It doesn't matter to me who is "right".  We all see God from where we are,  It's the only thing we can do.  Some day when we are with God we'll figure it all out until then, I will keep trying to do what God meant me to do, be what God meant for me to be and get closer to him daily.  Because  - God is love - and ♪♫ all ya need is love ♫♪

1 Corinthians 13 (The Message)


The Way of Love

If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don't love, I'm nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate. 2If I speak God's Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, "Jump," and it jumps, but I don't love, I'm nothing. If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don't love, I've gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love.

Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.
Love doesn't strut,
Doesn't have a swelled head,
Doesn't force itself on others,
Isn't always "me first,"
Doesn't fly off the handle,
Doesn't keep score of the sins of others,
Doesn't revel when others grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
Puts up with anything,
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back,
But keeps going to the end.

Love never dies. Inspired speech will be over some day; praying in tongues will end; understanding will reach its limit. We know only a portion of the truth, and what we say about God is always incomplete. But when the Complete arrives, our incompletes will be canceled.

When I was an infant at my mother's breast, I gurgled and cooed like any infant. When I grew up, I left those infant ways for good.

We don't yet see things clearly. We're squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won't be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We'll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!

But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love. ♥

How does a baby so calm he never really cried become a man so passionate about God that he finds himself frequently (but somewhat reluctantly) in the limelight?

How does a boy who sang so off-key as a child (that we all laughed) become a beautifully-voiced singer and musician?

How does it happen that a child, so quiet that many people thought he couldn't speak, grows to the kind of man who speaks in front of a sanctuary full of people? (He won't use the pulpit and he won't call it a sermon; it's a "talk" :)
 

How does an unassuming young man, speaking softly and humbly, singing with passion and humility, reach the hearts of those who come searching for something of God?

 God really does work in mysterious ways.

Zeke ~ "Maybe we are supposed to get comfortable with being uncomfortable."

There are days when I am driving down and up and over these country roads on the way to work I feel as if I am driving right through a country calendar; the scenes are so beautiful!  This week there was a thick blanket of snow and all the tree branches had been sugar-frosted by the fog.  It was so beautiful it seemed surreal in the soft colors of a dawn sky.  Yesterday, fog again but the sun was trying to break through it!  Every day it is a new painting, sometimes with animals wandering or flying through, often frost or fog or sunshine or an awesomely spectacular sky.  I am so blessed to start my day like this!  Thank you, Father God!

Yesterday I spent the day volunteering at a Numana event to measure out beans, rice, soy and nutrient packets, bag them up and seal them into packages that will feed a nutritious meal to a starving family of 6.  Thoughout the day there were over 1,000 volunteers that came through working from 1 hour to all day.  People of all ages were able to help.  There were even young children who decorated the boxes with thier colorful artwork or patted the packets down flat for shipping.  There were those who finished their 5 shipping boxes in 35 minutes and some who took over an hour.  There were so many families that came to volunteer together and it really warmed my heart to see such a thing.  There were groups of young people who came, too.  Boy Scouts, Confirmation kids, a basketball team, and other groups of firends that came to be a part of the giving.  There was one high school boy from our church that showed up at 9:00 AM to 5:00 PM!  Everyone worked hard at it, yet went away happy and satisfied.  Our food is headed to Haiti through the Salvation Army.

The people from Numana trained us "Green Shirts" the night before.  Explaining the importance of making sure the ingredients are packaged correctly so each one has the right nutrients and size to ship properly.  But they also insisted we keep it fun and value each participant's work.  That was easy to do since everyone came with such a giving heart!  They played fun Caribbean music all day and banged a big gong to announce packing milestones.  It was a HUGE amount of work for Heather, who orgainzed the whole thing locally, but very well-run.

Check out the Numana website.  What a beautiful organization!

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.