Easter Ponderings

For me, Easter should 'feel' like spring.  Bright sunshine, warm breezes, clear blue sky, green grass, birds singing, butterflies, pastel dresses, pretty open toed shoes, hats, and egg hunts.  Not this year, or many years where I live, as the day dawned with a lack of sunshine, gray skies, snow covering potential green grass, cold breeze, snow showers, winter coats, definite lack of butterflies.  It just did not 'feel' like Easter as a snow shower rained down on us.

My thoughts turned to the very first Easter.  No matter the weather of the day, bright sunshine or overcast skies; warm temperatures or cold breezes, likely Jesus' mother, would have only noticed the cold, dark emotional upheaval and grief.  She and others that loved him  have just been through the most emotional filled turmoil few days of their lives.  The week began on a high of Palm Sunday with Jesus being celebrated as he entered Jerusalem.  Songs, palm leaves, celebrity status.  The week ended in the worst possible way as the people turned on Jesus, ultimately crucifying him on in a gruesome manner on the cross.

Mary, Jesus' mother, has always intrigued me.  I am awed by her faith, complete obedience to God, and acceptance to her situation.  Very contrary to my personal tendency to question everything and do things my way.  But Mary, she had special intimacy with the most Holy, most High God as she carried His only son in her womb.  When the Angel told her she would conceive this baby miraculously, she accepted it with these words of Luke 1:38 “I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May your word to me be fulfilled.” 

Beyond her complete acceptance and obedience, Mary was the mother of this baby, rearing him into adulthood.  I am of a mother of two,I have my experiences of babies and children of my own and a few others. Somehow, I don't think any of these children are anything like baby Jesus. I wonder what it was like to raise the Lord Jesus.  He was fully human and fully God, perplexing for a simple minded soul like myself.  Surely as a baby, he cried when hungry, wet diaper, cold, uncomfortable, or just wanting to be held. Most certainly he 'fell down and went boom', bruised, cut, hurt.  Scripture speaks of siblings.  What of sibling rivalries?  Or of teenage attitudes?  Did Jesus need to be reminded to watch his tone?  Be kind to his siblings?  Eat his vegetables?  Do his chores?  Did little Jesus ever require a spanking or discipline of any type?  I believe raising Jesus was a completely different experience than raising her other children as Jesus never sinned... never.

Can you imagine looking into your child's eyes to realize he looks directly into your soul, knowing you better than yourself?  How does one respond to a child that knew scripture better than the most learned teachers of the time?  How could he be comforted,  the one who can heal completely any physical or spiritual wound?  Yet, Mary had this honor, privilege, and even challenge.

Mary was there, the first Palm Sunday through Easter.  How her mother's heart must have been beyond comfort.  She may have cried until only dry tears flowed.  Her heart ached and broke as she watched all the horrible proceedings.  The scourging as Jesus was beat beyond recognition, the crown of thorns, the jeering, the tortuous walk carrying his cross, the nails, the crucifixion, his death. She may have been unable to look yet unable to not look.  Unable to stay away, desiring to comfort her boy, seeking out His eyes to likely to find them strangely calm and deeply sad, trying to understand those things she 'pondered in her heart' as she raised him. Attempting to make sense of it all.

The time between His death and resurrection would have been bleak and grief riddled.  Even if the sun was shining would she have noticed, as her personal world was dark with little hope?  This miraculous baby she conceived and raised to a man now dead, how does He now save the world?  How does God die?  She perhaps went through her own personal faith crisis.  I would, I know I would have a faith crisis.  In desperation, I would visit his grave, perhaps only to leave by coercion.  That first Easter morning would have felt cold, dark, bleak much like my Easter morning this year.

This Easter of 2013, the clouds cleared away, the sun shone bright, the birds began to sing.  Perhaps much like how the word spread that Jesus is alive, death did not hold him, the tomb is empty.  The day brightened, the dark clouds of despair cleared, the day brightened as hope renewed.  Jesus is alive!

A few desires

A few things I hope as I age:

• I get to grow old
  Too many in my life have not had the privilege to see old age.
  
• I age but not act old
  I do not have the option in aging, becoming older.  I can choose to behave and think young.  I can choose to continually try new things, attempt to listen to the current music, keep up with current media rather than insisting in what I consider the best way - the 'old' way.
  
• I always know how to laugh
  May I never forget to see the humor in life and laugh heartily.
  
• I will always have a hand to hold
  I hope it is my husband's hand, holding his hand is a treasure.  I feel secure, loved, special holding his hand.  Yet I also hope to have the hand of a loved one to hold, a small child, one of my daughters, a dear one.
  
• I practice contentment
  This may be the greatest challenge in my hopes and desires.  To be content in all things:  where I live, how I feel, with the situation that life has for me at any time.
  
• I embrace each new generation & their style
  I want to connect with the the younger generation, realize they will not want to do it my preferred way.  Be able to share and communicate with them to hopefully have friends to keep me young and maybe, just maybe share a little of my life's lessons.
  
• Good health for my body & mind
  Yes please!  I am a wimp with illness and pain.  The thought of my mind betraying me is frightening.  I want to be able to live with a quality of life to continue to contribute.  I want to be able to always continue to learn and love.
  
• Friendships old and new
  I enjoy my many friends today.  Some are older, some are younger, others are my peers.  I realize that one day, I may not have any older friends, this makes me very sad.  Yet I hope to always have friends of all ages.
  
• Never, ever stop learning.
  There is so much to learn.  Academics and life lessons.  But mostly there is so much to learn of God - -I pray I never lose the desire to know more of Him, who He is, how vast and awesome He is.
  
• AND I really hope to keep up with technology
  Technology can be a blessing and a curse.  Yet I want to be able to keep up with computers, TVs, media, ipods, ipads, cars, etc.  I hope that I am never so flustered by it that I give up trying.

The King, The Gift, Her Heart

She was given a gift, a precious gift from her King.  Strong yet not unbreakable, beautiful and perfect yet easily marred, valuable yet meant to be shared, personal and unique.  The King told her it was precious, created just for her.  She is to keep is safe.  No one can take it from her unless she gives it to them, either the entire gift or pieces of it.  The King instructed her to be wise in sharing her gift yet not hoard it selfishly.  He told her he would be willing to help her but she would need to serve him forever.  She declined, wanting to be free.  He loved her so much, he let her go.

She took her precious gift, named it her heart.  She kept it with her at all times, safe in her bosom.  Initially, she shared it with everyone, so proud of her perfect, precious gift.  Others shared their hearts with her, she noticed that they were not perfect like hers, they were marred, chipped, cracked, glued, and patched.  Her heart was a thing of beauty in its perfection.

As time went by, someone scratched her heart with harsh words, another deeper gash developed by disappointment of not making the team of her beloved sport.  When her grandmother died, her heart developed a hole.  A dear friend moved away leaving another smaller hole.  Another friend told lies about her causing a crack.  She began to guard her heart, being more wary of showing it to everyone she met.  She started to become more discerning to whom she showed her heart.

Over time more cracks, chips, and holes developed.  These were filled with other precious gems such as a lady she adopted as a grandmother who gave her a beautiful ruby to fill the hole her own grandmother's death had left in her heart.  The cracks were smoothed over, the chips filled in with other bits and pieces.  Her heart was no longer perfect but still beautiful in its own unique way.  She began to realize her heart was much like the other less than perfect hearts she has been showed throughout her journey. 

As time went on she noticed her heart changed colors as she loved and care for others.  The deeper the love the more it glowed, but also the more fragile it became when loving so deeply.  She shared her glowing heart with those she loved, showing them how it shimmered when near them.  Each special person made it glow and shimmer in a unique way.  Sometimes its weight would change as well. 

One day, when it was glowing and shimmering with love and admiration, another came along and carelessly shoved her heart.  It went soaring through the air.  She ran trying to catch it, losing sight of it in the blinding light of searing pain, but onward she ran trying to catch it, buffer it's fall somehow.  But in the blinding light it was lost and it her heart fell on the hard pavement, shattering into a million tiny pieces.  She fell to her knees, how disappointed the King would be in her if he knew how she allowed someone to destroy her gift.

She made dark curtains and built solid walls around the shattered pieces to ensure she could gather them all before others could scatter them.  In tears and in the near dark she gathered the tiny pieces.  The edges sharp, cutting her fingers, the beauty gone.  She declared no one would see her heart again, if she ever could get it back together. 

Piece by piece, bit by bit, she fit the pieces together.  She sought out glue of comfort, peace, but some pieces would not stay together when combined with bitterness.  She had to find forgiveness, she had to extend grace.  She learned these helped smooth out the edges, create a better fit, form a good bind.  Her heart remained so fragile in the dark, it would not glow, it would not shine.  Eventually, she learned she had to let the light in, be brave to share her gift again to restore her heart, her forever damaged heart.

Slowly, with trepidation, shaking, she took out a piece of wall.  Just lowering it a bit.  She exchanged the dark curtains for lighter curtains.  She saw her heart begin to flicker.  Trembling, she dared to remove one wall and exchange a heavy curtain for shear drapes.  Oh her heart began to glow.  It took time, lots of time for the walls to be removed, exchanged for a hedge with a gate.  Eventually all the heavy curtains were exchanged for shear drapes.  A panel or two of drapes were completely removed.  Her heart pulsed with colors, glowing brightly through the cracks, the holes, the chips, the patches.  She discovered her heart was more beautiful than ever.

Cautiously, with shame for her imperfect gift, she returned to the King.  Afraid he would be displeased with her care of the heart, trembling and tearful, she showed it to him.  The king, dried her tears, hugged her close, and soothed her with kind words.  He took her heart, told her that if she would allow him to keep it, he would be able to fix the unfixable parts, and help her protect it.  What a revelation!  Gladly she lifted the burden of her heart and placed them in the King's hands.  He gently took it, he examined it closely, he located the parts that she had been unable to fix.    In his workshop, he carefully restored the brokenness, removed the heavy pieces yet left the imperfections.  Then he returned her lighter heart to her.  Instructed her to look to him for protection.  Promising to be with her if she would trust him and serve him.  As she declared her allegiance to do so, her heart lost all remaining heaviness and shimmered more beautifully than ever dreamed.  She mourned the years she did not trust the King but determined to remain in his presence for eternity.  For there is nothing better than the safety of the King.

I blame it on the climate

July in Minnesota.  Minnesota, not MinneSNOWta.  Contrary to popular belief it does not snow and remain cold 365 days a year.  No, indeed, rather we freeze in the winter months which are long and sometimes endless.  But in the summer, the pendulum swings and we enter extreme humidity and heat.  Whereby we are steamed until well-done.

Indeed, winter can see 30 below and colder but summer can see 100 (above) and hotter.  Add in some humidity and it is miserable.  When the dew point is above 60 degrees it is sticky, above 70 degrees the air is oppressive.  In the winter, the dew point is not a factor at all.  There are times we can walk out and all the hairs in the nose are instantly frozen, your lungs freeze, the shock of the dry, cold air literally takes your breath away.

In winter, daylight is scarce.  Seeing the sun for just meager hours.  Lights in the house are an absolute necessity between the hours of 4pm to 9am.  Sometimes all day due to clouds and gray skies.  Yet when the sun shines brilliantly off the snow it can be a dazzling array of light to blind you.  In the summer, the sun is blinding bright, rising at 5am and setting at 10pm.  We keep curtains closed to either keep heat in or keep heat out, depending on the season.

So this is where I live.  An individual that is not overly in love with change.  Yet I live in a land of extreme climates.  This is explains the wild swings in my personality.  Yep, that has to be it.  I blame it all on the climate in which I live.

Soap Box - - Political Angst

I have a soap box that I try to not step upon and begin to pontificate.  However, I believe this is where I am about to lose that self control to stay planted on the ground and keep quiet.  My soap box is my angst and disgust of the current political process.  As we move toward the next presidential election my angst, thus my soap box, grows exponentially.  DISCLAIMER:  I do not claim that this makes sense, I do not have a solution other than for people to be honest, truthful, authentic (this usually solves most issues), this is my point of view through angst colored glasses.  I am not attempting to start a debate, figure out who or what is right or wrong, I am mainly venting my angst, wishing for something different, realizing it won't be, point of view. 

Perhaps it begins in a small child's dream. Here in America we are encouraged to dream, dream to become anything, do anything, anything is possible.  This is the land of dreams.  The rags to riches land of dreams.  Poorest of poor to richest of rich.  From a nobody to a somebody.  This belief is the foundations of the country. 

Perhaps this small child dreams of being in a place of influence, a place of power.  Oh power, that is a dangerous tiger to tame.   "Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely"  John Emerich Edward Dalberg Acton, first Baron Acton (1834–1902)    The dream is likely innocent, true, and good.  A dream to make a difference in the world, make a difference for good.  The child as he grows realizes he (or she, but for ease of writing I will use the generic gender of he) could add value.  It is a beautiful, lovely dream.  But now for the ugly reality.  The political process is distasteful.  It continues on for months and months, years really.  There is party alignment, name calling, investigations to destroy, lies, and secrets.

I find it extremely ugly to set out to win an election by destroying the opponent with sensationalism, intentionally finding their faults, mistakes, sins; exposing them without any grace for who the person is today.  Compounded by the tendency to then disclaim your own faults and brush off, claiming to now be a virtuous person.  I often wonder why I care if the person tried drugs in youth, or participated in stupid act as a young person.  I was once young and stupid too.  I have grown up, I have matured, I have realized I was once young and stupid.  Quite possibly, these youthful indiscretions that have been overcome, have shaped and molded the individual into being the best candidate.  Do we really want a protected, naive, never experienced hardship, trials, empty vessel?  I do not care necessarily about the seemingly horrible act or experience in as much in how the individual overcame them, responded to crisis, learned from the experience(s).  This tells me so much more.  So expose those skeletons willingly and show me how you cope, what you learned, how it has made you into a great person today.  

I fail to understand how during some elections, most noticeably in primaries, candidates will tear apart each other of the same party in an effort to win the affections of the people.  I am amazed then how they will 'unite' and support each other once the top candidate is named.  I am more appalled in the then expectation of  me to now trust said candidate.  I just gagged in my mouth.  Really?  Sorry, your true character glowed through the heated, ugly words and actions toward your "team members" otherwise known as party. 

Now that party has been brought up, my soap box gets a little bigger.  My angst of 'party lines', partisan, non-partisan, bi-partisan.  It is all a bunch of hooey if you ask me.  Republican, Democrat, Tea Party, Independent, Grass Roots, whatever. You know what I want to see?  I want someone, ideally a group of someones (poor grammar - sorry grammar police), with true character and honesty.  Someone who will align himself with others to make good policy not because of party affiliations.  Frankly, parties need to disappear in my humble opinion.  I want someone who will research out the issue, seek out wise counsel, not be swayed by briberies.  Listen to lobbyists, on both sides of issues, take the time to figure out the best course of action.  I want someone who will stand on their decision not because he is of "this party or that party", but because it is the "right and good thing".  There have been a few that have tried to take this route.  But money becomes an issue.  Parties have money, supporters who demand favors have money.  Money corrupts as well as power.

Most of my angst has been vented.  My soap box must now diminish, it isn't serving much purpose.  Frankly it has quite of few holes for others to pull it apart.  Remember my disclaimer.  I will not argue with you.  It is a frustrated view point, without solutions.  Thanks for listening.

Mothers of Preschoolers

Each one arrives, many carrying a child laden car seat as well as one child or more trailing behind.  Burdened down with diaper bags and baby paraphernalia, they more or less stumble into the foyer. For a few, this bi-monthly meeting is the only 'break' from their preschoolers they will receive.  Babies are dropped off in the nursery, older children escorted to the preschooler room, mothers and infants arrive in the "Mom's room" for a time of refreshment.

I engage the newest mom, asking about her dear ones she has attached at the hip, trying to make her as comfortable as possible.  Our focus group is Mothers of Preschoolers (MOPS) so we are an accommodating group, not minding a baby in a mother's arms or the preschooler who needs to be near Mom until comfortable with surroundings.

Each lady is craving conversation on an adult level.  Mothering little people is an exhausting, 24 hour/7 days a week task.  Talking with the under 3.5 foot set is not always stimulating or fulfilling. Changing dirty diapers does not earn a word of appreciation.  The constant task of picking up toys, making meals, cleaning up the house, doing laundry, breaking up arguments, and rescuing toddlers from near-death experiences is usually under-appreciated.  The rewards are dandelion bouquets, sticky finger hugs and kisses, and adorable children.  These same children we mothers love so deeply can frustrate us to unbelievable measures.  It stuns us to our core leaving us feeling guilty for our anger, hurt, frustration. and disillusionment.  This is not what motherhood is suppose to be like.  It is suppose to be sweet smiling children, smelling like Johnson's baby lotion.  Obedient ones that does not put rocks up noses or throw temper tantrums.  Never prone to biting, hitting, or  smearing of fecal matter all over the floor and wall.  Always coloring on paper and never on the walls.  Children with clean faces and combed hair.  Siblings that love one another never screaming at ear piercing decibels.

A mother learns much about herself on the journey of motherhood.  She can be shocked by her lack of patience.  Disillusioned by the tasked itself.  Disappointed in her husband's lack of fathering skills.  Frustrated by lack of money, undependable vehicles, running noses, barking coughs, toys everywhere, dirty clothes and dishes, and lack of independence and flexibility.  Sometimes all that is required is a word of appreciation, a hug, a word of praise, chocolate, a listening ear. and hearing the phrase "this too shall pass."  Knowing she is not alone, that her situation is not unique can be a saving life line.

Gaining support of other women in the same phase is an all important, non-to-be-missed time.  We discuss everything from infant behavior to normal and abnormal preschool behavior; the strong willed child to the very timid child; marriage to in-law relationships;  As a mentor mom, I have 'been there, done that' in many of the situations to some degree or another.  Often I feel less than wise, these are phases that usually have to be traveled, sometimes I did not travel them well.  My goal is share the lessons I learned and continue to learn and offer encouragement.  

I am honored to gather with these ladies.  I miss the preschool years of my children and try to encourage these women to savor the moment, it passes by all too quickly.  I try to give an attitude and words of grace.  Empower them to trust their gut instincts in mothering.  Brainstorm solutions to difficult situations.  Each mother is beautiful, unique, and delightful.  They allow me to cuddle their newborns, listen to my bit of experience, and call me friend. 

Joseph - Actions Louder Than Words

As we approach the ending of 2011, I pause to send you Christmas greetings.  A time to reflect on the birth of Jesus.  The celebrate on the beginning of His human life as fully man and fully God.  Born to a young virgin and a hard working carpenter.  This year I have pondered Joseph.  Not much is recorded regarding Joseph.  His words are not quoted only his actions.  Actions speak louder than words. 

Joseph was a man of integrity.  What did he feel or think when he learned of Mary's condition?   I imagine feelings of betrayal.  How could she do this to him?  How did he misjudge her?  Maybe he wondered if Mary's father had deceived him, did they think he was so gullible?  And yet despite his reeling feelings he thought to quietly divorce her to protect her, rather than have her publically disgraced and stoned as was his right.  He must have loved Mary very much and/or respected her family highly.

Joseph was a devout Jewish man and responsive to God.  An angel visits him in a dream.   Would you believe a dream in which an angel visits you?  Would you distrust your dreamy, hazy memories?  It must have been a powerful, memorable dream with high impact.  Certainly if the Angel of the Lord visited my dream, I would remember it vividly.  In this dream, he is told to take Mary as his wife and name the baby Jesus, for the babe conceived within her was from the Holy Spirit.  Again, Joseph's words are not recorded but his actions are that of obedience.  It must have been frightful to take this bold action.  What would the community think of him, would his business suffer, would he be ostracized, would his family disown him?  And yet he obeyed.  He surely must have been convinced his "dream" was an actual visit from God.

Joseph was a leader, the head of his household.  When the census decree was declared, he embarked on a journey with his very pregnant, young wife.    A long distance to obey the law, it must have been tempting bend the truth, leave Mary behind as they were only betrothed, their marriage not yet consummated.  I envision him carefully assisting Mary on this journey, watching over her, anxiously trying to provide for her needs on this arduous journey.   This young lady was carrying God, the angel had told him such.

He had a very big responsibility without this journey, being the chosen earthly father of God!!  Can you imagine his frustration when he arrived in Bethlehem to be unable to find lodging?   He must have nearly been frantic.  Mary would have been obviously pregnant near time of delivery.  He must have wondered what God thought of him being unable to provide adequate lodging for Mary.  Perhaps feelings of failure plagued him.  How could he let God down by allowing the mother of His son stay in a stable surrounded by animals?  

Wouldn't you know, that is exactly where and when the baby was to be born.  In a smelly stable, not a proper home.  Was he able to find someone to assist Mary through the delivery?  Were they alone?  He may have wondered what God thought of him now.  Certainly this was not the place for God to enter human life.  But what choice did Joseph have at the time?   His resources were limited being a simple man of simple means and the small village was full due to the census.

The timing of the story is a bit uncertain.  I haven't been able to discern, in my casual research, how long they would have been in Bethlehem for the census.  But we do know that shepherds caring for their flocks in a nearby field were visited by angels proclaiming Christ's birth.  These shepherds found and visited this new family and told them of their story of the angels' proclamations.  Likely the shepherds' presence and story stirred up the surrounding community.  A birth usually draws people but this would be incredulous, people would naturally be curious.  Can you imagine the questions he would have had to answer over and over?  Joseph would have been likely fielding many visitors all while trying to understand what was going on around him.   The son of God born in a stable, angel visits, shepherds, and then wonder of wonders... Kings from afar who followed a star that stops above their own dwelling.   Kings...really?  A star??  Surely he and Mary saw this star.   How could the kings have known this star would lead them to Jesus?  They arrive with gifts - magnificent gifts, much beyond what a carpenter likely ever possessed.    It would have been very overwhelming.

Now we come to the part in this saga of crazy King Herod.  He is determined to kill this baby that threatens his throne.  Again, Joseph is visited by an angel in a dream.  The dream must have struck fear in his heart  as he is told his family is danger from King Herod and to leave immediately.  Again, we have little documented history.  It is recorded he bravely packed up his little family and made for Egypt.  Did he dare tell anyone, even new found friends who are potentially in danger?  Such a lonely position. 

Had Joseph ever traveled so far previously?  We do not know.  I will assume he had never been to Egypt.  How unsettling this must have been for a newlywed husband with a young baby that is not his but God's.  A young wife far away from her mother and family learning how to care for an infant.  Her body recovering from labor and delivery.  All the challenges of being a newlywed and a new parent and now to be on the run for their lives.  Starting a new life in a new country.  Could life be more challenging?  And yet Joseph obeys.

This is all the information I have of Jesus' earthly, adopted father during the time of Jesus' birth.  I like to think  I would have desired to be his friend. Maybe I would have thought he and Mary a bit off kilter.  After all, they would have been telling stories of angels, miraculous pregnancy, shepherds, stars, kings, and other incredulous things.  Yet,  I get a sense his was a respected man of his community.  An intelligent, kind, tender-hearted, hard working, loving man.

Yes, actions speak louder than words.  Josephs actions speak volumes.    It makes me ponder what my actions say about me...  hmmmmm.

Birthdays and Aging

Today is my birthday.  I am another year older, hopefully a little wiser, and young at heart.  I am now at the stage of aging when many do not care to acknowledge the number.  Some dislike birthdays altogether.  I have a few thoughts of my own on this subject.

This past spring, I lost a friend to a cruel disease, Jacob Cruezfeldt at the young age of 42.  She is survived by her husband and two young sons.  Her age is one of those numbers that many wish they did not achieve, instead desiring to stay at some younger age.  In previous years I have lost a cousin at 48, another acquaintance around 45, and yet another at 52,  an my (ex) brother-in-law at 47.  I empathized with friends and acquaintances in life and Facebook of young children's passing due to accidents and disease.  This has altered my perspective on birthdays and aging.

I do not particularly enjoy the aging process.   The aches, the pains, the fatigue.  I am not really fond of gray hairs although I try to have fun calling them sparkles and cover them up with dye.  The wrinkles are not overly appealing.  Yet.... I am here, I am alive, I am mostly healthy!  I do not wish to lose sight of how fortunate I am.   The Psalmist said it best in Psalm 39:4

 ⁴ “Show me, LORD, my life’s end
   and the number of my days;
   let me know how fleeting my life is.

Psalm 139:13-16 tells me I am fearfully and wonderfully made and that before I was created all my days were ordained.

"For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb.  I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.  My frame was not hidden from when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.  Your eyes saw my unformed body, all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be."

 I read in Ecclesiastes 8:8a that I have no power when my life will end any more than I can contain the wind.

"As no one has power over the wind to contain it, so no one has power over the time of their death."

Today I am 41 years old.  Blessed to celebrate another year of life!  I am not guaranteed another year, month, or even day.   I am hopeful to celebrate many, many more.  As many as the Lord allows, I plan to celebrate the days and years I have been given.

                                

 

 

 

Dewindling Summer

Summer time!  It is already August.  Summer months are quickly coming to an end.  I had grand plans to blog regularly.  Ha!  Summer took over and blogging was a fleeting ideal.   Here in the upper midwest, one must take advantage of these minimal days of long day light hours and warm temperatures.  All too soon, colder temperatures and darkness will descend leaving but a shadow of a memory of summer.

Honestly, my favorite season is Autumn.  It is still warm during the day but the humidity is gone.  The ground is dry and crunchy.  Oh, and I admittedly I am one who likes to wear shorts with a sweatshirt.  Crazy but true.  The downside to Autumn is the constant lessening of daylight hours.  I crave daylight and the long dark days of late autumn and winter are disheartening. 

I am getting ahead of myself... you are probably wondering what I have been doing this summer.  A better question to ask is what is God doing in my life this summer?  Along with mowing the lawn every four to five days, trying to stay cool in the rather ridiculous humidity, I have been seeking God's direction in my life.

This fall is a transition for our family that directly impacts my lifestyle.  After eight years of homeschooling both of my children will be attending school outside our homes.  We are all excited for this transition.  I believe my children have the foundation academically and, more importantly, spiritually to attend school.  Yet this change means that for the first time in 16 years I will have considerable time to myself during the school hours.

As I have pondered the upcoming 'freedom', I have been wondering exactly what I should do with my time.  I am a bit on the lazy side coupled that I am not one  with a desire for an immaculate house (i.e. not a great housekeeper) could be a recipe for a self-centered disaster.  So I have been praying.

Prayer is powerful.  My lazy summer turned into a summer of opportunities to serve in our community.  I have seen first hand and been able to serve those living at poverty level.  Each time I come away humbled and reminded of how blessed and privileged I am in these challenging economic times.

I also had the opportunity to serve at a Christian camp that had an influx of registrations for Jr. High camp.  I answered a plea for help as they sought out additional counselors.  I had a fun and exhausting week.  My cabin was full of a group of beautiful young ladies who stole my heart.  I have the honor of praying for them as they have returned home to finish summer vacation and return to school.  I am reminded that life is not easy for anyone but for teenagers, life is even more challenging!

Now I am looking at the final weeks of summer and wondering just what fall will look like... I believe God has been preparing me for something.  I just am not sure exactly what it is yet.  I am considering taking some classes and researching out ideas in this direction.  I am not necessarily looking for a degree but additional Biblical training and discipleship training seems appropriate. 

I want to be the best I can be in God's Army.  I am a bit scared and at the same thrilled to say "Here am I, use me, send me!"  I am not perfect but neither was Moses, Noah, Joseph, Naomi and Ruth, Job, or David.  I am learning to trust God and let Him make my weaknesses His strengths.

In the meantime, I am sad that summer is ending.  The less structured pace, the sometimes lazy days are all too quickly coming to an end.  Now it is time to prepare for the first days of school and activities.  As well as time to prepare for all that God has in store for me in this next phase of life.

Father's Day Musings

This weekend is Father's Day.  A day set aside to specifically honor fathers.  I am fortunate to have a husband that is a remarkable father to our children.  Below are a few of the traits he exhibits as he parent's his children.  

Tender heart - - I have seen my own husband gently cradle his newborn daughter, gazing at her in pure wonderment and love.  I have watched as he has taken his baby and snuggled with her for a nap on the sofa.  Held her as she ached in illness.  Calm her while she was distraught with pain, fear, or frustration.  Rock his child to sleep as his own arm lost all feeling.  This manly guy can be so gentle and tender caring for his children.  I often had to fight for 'my turn' to hold my baby.  Now as teenagers he continues to show tenderness displaying how a man should treat a young lady with courtesy and respect.

Teacher - - My husband has taught his children many skills with great patience.  How to throw and catch a ball, pound a hammer, mud a wall, grout a floor, climb a ladder...  He has taught them the complexities of scientific concepts and math skills well beyond anything their mother can comprehend.  He has helped them with homework on the phone while traveling for work.  He has interrupted his work day to answer many a question.  Never a teacher that just gives the answer away, he will patiently guide them through the thought process to the answer.

Leader - - He leads our family through all situations, decisions, and tasks.  He leads us in prayer and i ministry.  He leads us in new adventures.   He sets the boundaries for our family - our use of time and finances. 

Encourager - - My children's daddy will encourage them to try new things, never give up, and to try again.  He will purchase books, magazines, equipment to encourage hobbies and new interests.  He will learn along with them as they discover new things.   He has built a giant sized solar system and a potato battery. 

Protector - - From things that go bump in the night to the bugs that needs squashing or the rodent that requires extermination.  He also protects his family guiding them around potential unsavory places and people.  He makes his presence known subtly or overtly conveying - "Mess with her, you must deal with me." 

Silly - - He knows how to be silly and brings a lot of fun to our lives.  He pretends to speak Spanish, he has a dry sense of humor, and great wit. 

Hard worker with strong work ethic to provide  - - Children need things, especially shelter, food, and clothing.  A daddy will do all within his power to provide these essentials for his family.  Sometimes at great sacrifice to himself.  I have seen my own husband's dreams and desires put on hold as he puts his family's needs as a priority.  He works hard to provide attempting to balance the demands of the his job with the demands of his family.

Servant - Through the years our family has been blessed by our fathers in their sacrificial assistance.  From automotive repairs, vehicle loaners, and hard labor in home remodeling projects.  They have consistently and fervently prayed for us.   My husband has served his children in many ways through their childhood and see the potential that he will continue the legacy of service as they are adults.

Our family is blessed with a Daddy not just a father. 

Funk or Fear

It occurred to me this morning that I have been in a funk lately.  Sometimes it takes a bit for  me to realize that a funky mood has descended upon me.  My revelation came to me gradually as I was going about the business of the day.  The business of the day isn't much today, it is summer vacation and we are experiencing a rather pleasant few days of a slower pace.  But you know what? The 'business of the day' is not the going to be the same for me.  A shift is taking place in my life and it is causing a bit of a funk.  Or maybe it is the long, harsh winter, followed by an extended cold spring, with a shot of extreme summer temps and a wild 50 degree swing in the other direction within a matter of days.  What do you think?

Many things are shifting and changing in my life right now.   Our family is moving in a different direction.  My children are now teenagers and their activities are changing.  They are older, needing less of me which is a good thing, what we strive for as parents.  My role is changing and I did not expect these feelings until they went off to college or moved out of home leaving us with an empty nest.

For the past eight years I have been homeschooling our children.  Last year my oldest child attended school outside of our home and it now appears that the youngest will be joining her this fall.  My days of homeschooling are over.  I have had children at my side for the past 15.5 years.  It is  hard to imagine days without them and being home alone.   I feel adrift, a bit useless, and unneeded.  Frankly, I am lacking  direction. The kids are only going to be gone to school for 7 hours each day.  Sheesh, what's my problem, right?

Additionally, in the past 6-9 months we have left an organization that, I, in particular had been highly involved in as an adult volunteer.  It was not anticipated to cease participating altogether, but that is what happened, and seemly rather suddenly.  I have been exploring my options but haven't quite figured out how to incorporate it all into this new phase of our life.

All this means that the community of people I have been associated with for the past eight years will be continuing on without me.  It is natural that to feel a bit a drift during change, I guess.  But it is uncomfortable.

I have a few ideas as to how to fill my new found "freedom" but frankly I am a bit afraid. I am not the ultimate homemaker so the thought of cleaning and cooking 28 hours (random number) of the week will likely morph into 28 hours of avoidance on Facebook, surfing the internet, and watching tv.  I could get a job but in reality the kids still need me for taxi service and homework assistance, a job could make this challenging -  - oh okay, I don't want a job, who am I kidding? 

Add to this thought process an email I received about the future of America (it was a forward and it made some valid points) but I started to feel a little bit of anxiety over these things which I have no control. 

I went for a walk, borrowing my child's iPod, I put on the headphones and started playing Casting Crowns (we just purchased 4 of their CDs).  My mind did not focus on the music but rather on the future and the uncertainty of it.  I said (in my mind) "God, I am afraid of the future."  Almost instantly the words: "Do not be afraid, for I am the Lord your God;  I am always with you." 

 I then recalled how the Israelites wandered the desert for 40 years with the cloud leading them - they had left behind all they knew and had no knowledge of the future. Can you imagine the uncertainty and anxiety of these people? All the jobs and tasks they knew before were to be no more. What would they do? How would they function? Where would they live? Their whole lives had shifted dramatically. They could only follow.  And I realized, God was with them in that cloud or pillar of fire.  He never left them, He always provided,  and He always made a way.

Wow.  I still do not have the answers for the future.  I still don’t have any control over the uncontrollable; I still do not know what my role will be as we make this family shift.  But I am feeling more confident in the reminder that God is always with me, leading me, walking beside me, carrying me.  Even in a time of storm - which for me, at this moment, is a time of uncertainty.

"I will Praise you in this Storm
and I will life my hands
For You are who You are
No matter where I am
Every tear I've cried
You hold in Your hand
You never left my side
and though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this Storm"

The last song I heard on the iPod as I walked up the driveway to the backdoor.

Struggling dogwood

Gardening is the topic of choice today.  I am capable of gardening but it is not my passion.  I do not have a 'green thumb'.  I am never sure if it is a plant or weed, especially when young so I tend to leave most everything.  By the time it is identifiable it is overwhelmingly weedy.  I don't really enjoy being in the sun  and most gardening cannot be done in the shade.  Add to that mix, that I am not a detailed oriented person.  This does not make for a great gardener.

However, this past weekend, it was not raining and we were home for an afternoon. We tackled some overdue  yard work items.  Winter was long and harsh, Spring was equally long and cold.  My hubby got his tractor with the assistance of our oldest daughter, running the disc and plow through the small field that is used as a garden plot by my father-in-law.  My youngest daughter planted a few pots of flowers.  I went to work on the bushes in the front yard.

These bushes were planted about four years ago.  I bought these little guys on clearance during a hot, dry July.  My idea was to plant them to provide some protection from the road.  There are Burning Bushes, Maple Amurs, and Dogwoods.  We have a bit of property and the front of the yard is a long ways from the spigot.  I carried water to the bushes by the bucketful to make sure they did not die during the drought we were experiencing. 

Four years later, these bushes are still struggling.  Not much bigger than when I planted them, I have been disappointed in their progress  I am also not really thrilled with mowing around them, especially since they are not thriving as I had hoped.  The dogwoods really are struggling - mostly sticks with few leaves.  There were only two of these and I finally mowed down one of them last year. 

But off I went to clear out the grass and weeds growing up and through the plants, taking their water and chocking them.  I pulled out the grass and weeds.  I also put in fertilizer spikes, something I probably should have been doing each year, One or two of the bushes are beginning to show promise. But the remaining dogwood is not doing well at all.  When I pulled away all the grass I found a few short sticks of growth with a handful (about 4) of small leaves.  Definitely not thriving and it looks like the deer have found it tasty as well.  I am considering mowing down this non-productive plant.  I realize the soil is not the best in this part of my yard but I was hoping these hardy plants would make it.

The same time I planted those bushes, I also planted a row of pine trees.  These guys were small, in one gallon pots.  I have carefully tended to them through several years of drought and protected them from the plow of the tractor (they are on the edge of the field).  I am delighted to report that they are growing quite well.    The lawn tractor is no longer a threat and they are more easily seen from larger farm equipment.  I do not mind mowing around them just to see the progress they are making; the growth each year is pleasing.  They are planted in clay, loamy soil and loving it! 

This made me think about the Heavenly Gardner.  How He plants me, nurtures me, pulls at the weeds, carefully mows around me, and I disappoint Him in my growth.  Year after year He continues to tend to me, with much more skill and patience than I have for my bushes.   I know I disappoint my Heavenly Gardner and wonder if He is getting tired of continuing carefully tending to me, much like I am with the bushes.  I wonder if He wishes I was more like those pine trees - putting down a deep tap root, pulling from water deep down, and shooting upward and outward.  I know that is what I desire to be - a thriving, growing tree rather than a struggling, little bush in danger of being mowed over and forgotten forever.  Gives me much for thought and thankfulness that the Heavenly Gardner has much more patience than I do for that struggling Dogwood.  Hmmmm... wonder if I should transplant that bush?

Walking - It makes a heart healthy

Yes, I know, another post about walking.  How can I possibly have more to say about walking?  A dozen years of regular walking and most of that time with my neighbor and friend, leaves me with lots of memories.   Walking about three miles, as many days as possible, has made my heart healthier.  It has also greatly improved my mental health. 

The past weekend was full of rain and stormy weather.  The weekend of the tornadoes that devastated Minneapolis, MN and Joplin, MO.  Our family spent time in the basement hiding from the severe weather or closely watching the radar to make an escape to the basement.  But in the evening of Sunday, the skies cleared allowing an opportunity to go for a walk and visit with my walking partner.  We had a lot to catch up on from the weekend!

We made our way down the familiar road, dodging a few left over raindrops and avoiding mud puddles.  As we walked we caught up on the activities of the weekend.  Exercising our bodies, improving our physical health simultaneously improving our mental health.  I am so thankful for my dear friend - M, her listening ear, observant eyes, wise thoughts, and witty sense of humor.

We turned the corner on our familiar loop.  Mid-step I stopped, gasped, and pointed at the most incredible rainbow.   We both stood in awe at the incredible, vivid rainbow that looked as it ended in the field just mere feet away.  We then spotted the second rainbow.  Knowing I usually carry my phone that is so fancy as to have a camera, M suggested I take a picture. 

Peer closely at the end of the rainbow, it appears to end just there in the field behind the shed.  We did not spot a leprechaun nor a pot of gold, not even a pot of Skittles.  :)

M then thought we should have a picture of the two of us with the rainbow in the background.  It turned into a laughing, silly activity as we both battled the phone camera to capture our desired photo.  Below see our results.... 

"Uh, did it take, um wait, oh yeah, oops"

We made several more attempts to capture this desired photo, amidst much laughter...  here is our next best result:

Clearly, we are technology challenged!   But we have healthy hearts and saner minds... I think.

And we forgot the dog in the picture.  Ha!

Walk, walk, walk part 2

My neighbor and I are resuming our regular walking schedule now that the roads are not ice and snow covered and the temperatures are a bit milder. It is later than usual this year with the extended winter and we are not as hardy as we were in our younger years. O-dark hundred is not as dark with the summer equinox approaching. I am now returning home as dawn is approaching.

I realized that my inky dark days on the road are over. When we started our walking journey all those years ago, there was only one house and a swamp between my home and hers. The trek to her house was sometimes very black on moonless, cloud covered mornings. As the years have passed three homes have been built on that stretch. One of these new homes has a security light on the garage which is on all night long. Sadly, it's light pollution dampens star and planet gazing, but a full moon can have the same effect! But it does provide light along the path to meet in the pre-dawn darkness.

We have walked in all kinds of weather. Our goal is to walk April through Thanksgiving. Some years were mild and we could walk as early as March and as late as December, other years have been colder and snowier ending our walking before November or delaying our start in the Spring. Sometimes illness or injury interrupts our walking. But we strive to exercise to keep our hearts healthy and the pounds off.

The challenge is identifying the weather at 0-dark hundred. To make that quiet phone call to cancel due to rain or lightning has been spotted. Other times it is rather obvious when thunder rattles the windows and lightning turns the night into day. There have been days when I walked out the door into rain to turn around to make that phone call and crawl back into bed.

We laughed one year as we each gave the other rain suits and ponchos as birthday gifts. Rain is usually our biggest weather challenge. We have walked in lots of rain: misty, drippy, downpours, scattered drops, intermittent, stormy. Neither of us are fond of lightning and try to avoid being out in it but sometimes it sneaks up on us. I am not fond of thunder either, makes me jumpy. Where's there thunder I figure lightning is nearby too.

We have monitored the skies, watching storms in the distance. We try to determine the direction they are moving and gauge if we can make it. There have been a few deliberate walks in the misty rain. And there has been at least one mad dash as we ran, caught in a down pour. We carry cell phones these days in case we have mis-judged the weather but I don't recall actually calling for a rescue pick up. We haven't melted yet, just been soaked to the bone.

Our other challenge is snow and ice. Half of our walk is on a gravel road without a shoulder. We have tried different boots, ice grabbers for our shoes, walking sticks to help assist us on the slipperiness. But really the danger comes if a car were to start sliding, there is no where to go. So we usually avoid walking in these conditions, especially in the dark.

O-Dark Hundred has it advantages. Usually the winds are calm before dawn. Even cold mornings can be quite pleasant without the wind creating a wind-chill. Cold air clears the atmosphere and the stars are all the more brilliant. Warm, humid summer days are much more tolerable before the sun rises adding to the heat index. Early enough to usually avoid the bugs which come out in swarms upon sunrise.

Living in the upper mid-west does have it's challenges with the weather. We have been known to have all four seasons in a day. This year we had snow two days one week followed by humidity and heat with severe storms the next week. We have learned to walk in all sorts of weather and to keep an eye on the sky.

Tapestry of Prayer

I have been pondering a lot lately.  Many events are taking place world wide as well in my own life.  Change is a part of life and I don't always take change well.  Although I recently admitted to a friend that I sure do instigate a lot of change for someone who doesn't like change.  There is a paradox for you. 

I commute my daughter to and from school each day, the 25 minutes in the car each morning and afternoon leave my mind to wondering.  This morning I was spent time thinking about prayer and praying for one another.  Prayer is Biblical.  Jesus prayed, He prayed for others.... me in fact, He taught us to pray, He instructed us to pray for one another, He even instructed to pray for our enemies. 

It led me to wondering about all these prayers.  I fail to understand how God hears and answers all these infinite number of prayers offered up each and everyday.  But I have faith that He,the Alpha and Omega, is ever present, ever hearing, and can hear all and see all.  I also have faith that He always has been and always will be - - yesterday, today, and tomorrow. 

So I went down a rabbit trail of wondering as to what our prayers might look like in a tapestry. 

Revelation 5:8 (NIV) says that our prayers are an incense: 

And when he had taken it, the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders fell down before the Lamb. Each one had a harp and they were holding golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of God’s people. 

But what about a tapestry?  Do our prayers make a tapestry?  Woven in colors in a person's life or the world's existence.  I picture prayers of forgiveness in crimson red as they are covered by Christ's blood shed on the cross; bright jewel hues of praise and thanksgiving; beautiful and brilliant neons of obedience; intense and deep colors of prayers cried out in anguish; a rainbow of pastels of petitions in seeking God; clean and bright white prayers of righteousness; and purples with indigoes of the prayers of Jesus and the Holy Spirit.    My mind has created a lovely and beautiful picture of colorful prayers woven together.   I just wonder if there is something like that awaiting for us to view in Heaven; to show us how God has worked it out in our lives.

I anxiously await Heaven, to meet Jesus face to face, bow at His feet and profess my thanksgiving to bridging the gap of separation between I and His Father, granting me access to this wonderful place called Heaven.  I want to meet so many people of the Bible such as Ruth, Esther, Mary, Mary's parents, Paul, to name a few.  My list of those that I can't wait to be reunited with is lengthy and include grandparents and friends.  To have an end of pain and sorrow, to live the fashion that God intended before sin.  I am so anxious I can't stand it at times. 

For now I must satisfy myself of what the Bible tells me of Heaven.  But a girl can dream a little, can't she?

Storm report

I find myself alone in the family room this evening.  Hubby has gone to bed with a nasty headache - hope he is not getting a migraine.  My lovely daughters have gone to their bedrooms, never really sure of when they go to bed or sleep.  So here I am on my own.

I have the television on which is currently showing the nightly news.  The top story is the storms that swept across the south.  My eyes see the ominous clouds, the swirling clouds, debris flying.  My eyes see the destruction, the houses turned to match sticks.  My ears hear the reports of devastation and loss of life, the lives ruined, entire communities gone.  My mind has much more trouble comprehending.

Much like the lack of comprehension I felt as I watched the tsunami and destruction a month ago.  What I see on the screen does not make sense to my mind.  Maybe it is the desensitization of watching so much media throughout my life, knowing that much of what I watch is fictional and amazing special effects.  Maybe that is why my mind says,  "That can't be real."

Yet I am completely aware this is not fictional television.  This is real  - - this has actually happened.  People's lives have been lost and ruined.  Entire communities are suffering.  Whole sections of the country are in shambles to a very powerful storm system that spawned many, many tornadoes for nearly 4 hours over a large area covering multiple states.

For those of you in that area, please know I have prayed for you today.  I am keenly aware of powerful storms living in the upper mid-west.  I have hid in the basement more than once.  I have witnessed huge trees toppled and homes damaged.  I have had nearby neighborhoods destroyed.  I can comprehend some but not all of what you have gone through these past couple of days.

Praying that you will find rays of hope in the destruction.  Praying that there is is a silver lining.  Praying for those coming to serve you and to help you recover.  Praying....

Opinions

The weather is lousy, dreary and cold.  One wonders if Spring can ever arrive.  If I think about it, it is better than winter.  The temperatures are not dipping below 30 (F) too much anymore.  That is better than negative temperatures.  The snow has melted, something I wasn't sure could happen prior to July.  I am not wearing a parka and boots to walk out the door.  I guess it is Spring-like weather, well maybe.  Last night's snow showers aren't very Spring-like in my opinion.  But no one asked me.

I do have opinions.  Some may think a few too many.  I guess I tend to share them.  Allot of the times, I am only sharing, not really expecting a change.  Most situations, in my opinion, I have a better idea.  Which in reality may not be a better idea.  Especially if I am not in on all the details.  Sometimes, I just find whatever it is inconvenient to me, but if it works for you, fine.  Other times I will impart my humble opinion about whatever and how I plan to make it work for me.  What works for you is fine too.  We all have opinions some of us just tend to share them more openly than others.

I suppose I would serve myself greatly by just staying quiet and keeping those opinions to myself.  I have been working on that quality.  Those of you who know me right now are probably laughing hysterically.  But wouldn't you  want to get inside my head.  You would be shocked at everything that I don't say or share.  In fact, in my humble opinion, I believe I am quiet.  Especially when compared to all the thoughts that go through my mind.  So much I don't say ... I really am a quiet person.  :)

So many times, I have it all figured out, in my humble opinion.  If only I had been consulted.  Ha ha.  So many people and entities just don't seem to ask for my wisdom.  It is baffling sometimes.  (please hear the sarcasm here)  Mother Nature never asks me for input.  I think I know when I would like it sunny, rainy, cold, etc.  Really, I would just like the weather to fall within the 'set' seasons.  You know, Spring Equinox was March 21 - - so where is Spring?  I can usually cope with the weather within those parameters.  Well, except if I am planning an outdoor activity or the budget is low to pay air conditioning or heating bills, or maybe my mood could use a change.

Anyway... I have an opinion.  It's a humble one.  If you ask, I'll likely tell you.  If you don't want to know, don't ask.  Otherwise, I do my best to listen and keep them to myself or share in private settings with hubby.  Rest assured, he puts me in my place.  He is good at keeping me in line.  In those times, I am really glad I stayed quiet.  :)

Ha ha - - just a fun post.  Have a great day everyone.

Walk, walk, walk

New day today, the sun is shining, the temperature is rising, Spring is making a visit.  Yesterday, was a lovely day for Easter giving winter-weary folks a break.   And it looks as to be extended through today.  Although on the weather forecast, I heard a nasty rumor of more winter like weather mid-week.  Spring is really struggling to wedge out winter. 

With Spring comes the ability to get out to walk regularly.  Which is a good thing for my sorry body condition.  I have let things get out of hand.  12 years ago, I battled the bulge and lost a significant amount of weight.  This winter, I allowed myself to gain a significant of that lost portion back. 

I always fight the bulge... a few pounds, maybe up towards 10 extra.  But this year... oh this year, oh dear.  I am not very happy with myself but these are the consequences of aging, eating, and being lazy.  Now to buckle down and work getting things back under control.

My wonderful walking partner and neighbor is helping me along.   We have been walking for 10-11 year.  Usually at a very early, dark hour of the morning.   It began with the need for me to be home prior to my husband leaving work so my babies wouldn't be alone and her need to get to work.  It has worked out so well, that now, as I do not need to be as concerned for my 'babies' we continue to meet during the non-winter months to walk in the early hours.  Well, that and she still needs to get to work. 

We have seen many wonderful sights.  Beholding the wonder of the skies.  Often we stop in awe and these verses of Psalm 91:1-3 come to mind:

¹ The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
² Day after day they pour forth speech;
night after night they reveal knowledge.
³ They have no speech, they use no words;
no sound is heard from them.

We have seen stars so brilliant on moonless mornings that we have had to stop in adoration.  We have learned to identify a few planets and the difference of them from an airplane *wink wink*.  Meteor showers have been our companions.  During some times of the year, we get observe the beginning of the sunrise as the daylight approaches.  We have even seen the rare Northern Lights (aurora borealis). 

Deer and fox have crossed our path.  One year we skirted so many skunks, we came up with a new parting phrase "may no skunk cross your path."  We've had an owl swoop down silently and close to make us feel it's air as it passed over.  Gave us an opportunity to hold hands too *giggle*.  Another time, a deer ran across the paved road on a particular dark morning.  It startled us right into each others arms, dogs and all. 

Some mornings the moon is so bright and full that we are practically walking in daylight, others are so inky black, it takes all my courage to step out into the darkness.  Especially on the inky black nights we are thankful for our reflective vests and blinking lights.  The vests are to alert sleepy motorists we are on the road and the flashing lights to spot each other as we meet.  Prior to the "flashers" there was more than one frightened occassion as we met, not realizing the other was out there yet.  The "flashers" have eliminated needless heart attacks.

Our morning walks have heard laughter, tears, frustrations, secrets, and many yawns. We have grown in friendship and shared life together one step at a time.  We miss each other through the winter months. It is too icy to risk our necks.  We try to get in weekend, daylight walks during those months.  On the occassional "normal" hours walk, usually on a weekend, we have met neighbors. 

In the early years, we walked nearly everyday.  As the years have gone by and age with responsibilities caught up with us, we have not been as consistent and regular.  But this year... this is the year to get back on track.  At least for me... for crying out loud, I can't wear my clothes.  This is not the new wardrobe I want to buy!

Hunger and Hope

This morning, I was sitting on the sofa recovering from our mini-vacation.  Basically being a couch potato.  Still in my pajamas, not moving fast, watching TV, drinking coffee, hanging out on Facebook, and re-stylizing my blog.  How do you like the new look, by the way?   

My husband had asked me yesterday if we had anything going on today, which I responded with a negative, except for the church drama practice in the evening.  So, I was enjoying doing nothing.  It is Spring Break after all. 

On a random whim, I checked my calendar.  It's online, easily accessible from any electronic device in my possession.  I also print it out regularly and post to be viewed by all family members.  My problem is not in putting things on the calendar as much as looking at the calendar.  I am constantly double booking myself or forgetting things because I think I have it all in my head.  I really do need to understand that my memory is not as young and agile as it once was in years past.  Note to self, you are middle aged now, nothing is as it once was.

Anyway, I looked at our calendar only to gasp!  We are signed up to volunteer, as a family, this afternoon at a local food distribution.  Oops!  How did we all forget?  Especially since DD#1 regularly participates in this with school for community service hours.  UGH!  I was not feeling very energized by the thought.  I am pooped!  But we had signed up realizing that with the Easter holiday and Spring Break extra hands are needed. 

We got up off our rear ends and made ready to go.  This being the first time for all us except for DD#1, we were not certain what to expect.  In fact, there was uncertainty as to what time we were to arrive.  We arrived a couple of hours prior to the start of the distribution.  People were already lining up outside the doors, waiting in the cold wind for the food. 

We were put to work opening boxes and redistributing some of the items.  The quantity and selection of the food was impressive.  Frozen items, produce, meat, canned good, even some children's birthday bags.  All the volunteers were gathered shortly before door opening.  We were given brief instructions and we prayed.

For over 90 minutes we handed out food to hundreds of people.   Each time I looked up from my station of handing out canned goods, I saw a constant stream of people, it did not seem to end.  Young, old, tired, every ethnicity, every walk of life and in my community.  A few times I looked into the face of someone that could be me.  On the street, anywhere else,  I would never guess they were any more needy than I.  A few that I know personally came through: some helping others, some for themselves. 

I did my best to offer a smile and a kind word to each one that came through, treating each with the dignity they deserve.   Some were trying to hide being uncomfortable going through the line, others were too tired and weary to care what anyone thought of them.  Some did not speak English well, as I was handing out an item that is a definite like or dislike, I did my best to communicate with them to give them option of taking it or not. 

Once I found my rhythm in handing out the items, I had a chance to purposefully and specifically pray.  I prayed to see each of them with the eyes of Jesus.  That my words and actions would convey the love of Jesus.  I prayed each would find hope and a bit of cheer.  That there would be something... a word or item in the cart that would give them joy on this Easter holiday.  I pray that each would know Jesus' love and joy.

There are hurting people everywhere, from every walk of life.  Poor, rich, young, old, healthy, sick, every race.  Our current economy is finding more in the area of need.  Some who never thought they would be in such a position.  Frankly, we are just one job away from being in a very similar predicament.  I am thankful everyday for the my husband's job and all that it provides for our family.  It is not something to take for granted.

For many years, my family has packaged food with an organization called Feed My Starving Children.  (www.fmsc.org) We have helped to feed starving children around the world.  This gives us the opportunity to help those in our community, in our backyard, those that are not that very different from our own family.

Will I return?  Yes.  It is hard work, my body aches from shifting and moving canned goods.  But that is nothing, I will recover soon.  It is a minuscule sacrifice to know that a simple act can bring hope.

Thinking aloud a.k.a. talking to myself

I have always thought out loud or talked to myself.  I am the youngest child of three.  But since my siblings are several years older than I, I was kinda of on my own - growing up as a youngest/only.  I remember lying in bed at night, talking to all my friends ... stuffed animals.  I sang to them, told them stories, shared my secrets,  and held bed time parties.  During the day my dolls and friends had picnics, played school, and had tea parties.  This must be where I got my start in thinking aloud.

I am certain I annoyed my older siblings with this trait. Bwwwaaa ha ha.  Just doing my job effectively as a younger sibling.  I always had company in the form of me, myself, and I. 

Somehow I made it through my school years.  There I had peers in which to converse and I did so!  My report cards were filled will comments of "talks too much."  I maintained good grades and proved to be a good student so I didn't get into too much trouble.

Usually in public, my talking aloud is limited to scolding or encouraging myself.  Or making an auditory list of things I need to get done.  I have discovered I am an auditory learner - - talking aloud helps me immensely.  Much to my dismay, my oldest daughter has the same need and talks aloud.  So now I get her running commentary which really fouls up my own thinking.  LOL

Upon entering the professional world as an adult is where I ran into a few issues with my self-talk.   Apparently people don't want to hear me scold myself for doing something stupid or announcing the next step of the process, or cheering for a job well done.   Cubicles do not provide much privacy or sound barrier.  I don't think I'm too loud - - just kinda of a running commentary. I have had to learn to silence my self-talk.

But it is immense fun to walk through the grocery store talking with me.  Complete strangers will take up conversation with me.  See?  No longer alone.  Or I have achieved the goal of being left alone and having the aisle to myself.  ;)

The real trouble comes when having an argument with myself and losing.  Really, how can I loose an argument with myself?  Me tries to intervene but myself and I can silence her rather quickly with chocolate.  I am never alone...

But really, I am more normal than most.   *grin*