Coming and Going

"Love doesn't hide. It stays and fights. It goes the distance, that's why love is so strong. So it can carry you home." Unknown

Somewhere in between longing and joy, regret and hardship, tears and laughter, there is a place we call home. When we go back we run into all that history, all those feelings, and in turn they run smack into everything that's going on now. That's why going home evokes so many powerful emotions for so many.

It's the place and people you grew up with, the place you learned to sink or swim, or survive and thrive.

Somewhere in between the place we always seek to recreate and romanticize and the place we never want to see again lies that place we call home.

I go back to the place I spent all of my growing up years, so lots of memories come with it. The sorrows and the joys live there within its walls, along with those things that never seem to change.

The squeak in the porch step, the way the screen door sounds when it slams.......my Mom's dryer that will never die, the one that never stops, all day long.......and that keeps spinning no matter if the door is open or not. I am convinced that God keeps all her appliances going.

And this time, the garage talked. The first time I heard it, it scared the daylights out of me. "Oh," my Mom said, "Lauryn has a couple dolls out there that talk and it must be the motion that makes them go off." I felt like I was in a horror movie where Chuckie the doll comes to life.

Everytime I go home I fry something. This time it was my Mom's favorite hair dryer. I think it was going on its twentieth year. I looked up and the connection in the outlet was smoking. I caught it just in time.

My Mom constantly complains about not having enough electrical outlets, and it is a valid complaint. Back in the early sixties, they didn't put outlets in every six feet, about two per bedroom was enough.

There was a new hood over the stove this time. I went to reach for something up in the cupboard and I almost needed a ladder. The new hood extended much further over the cupboard than the last one, but neither my Mom or Dad thought it was a problem when they bought it, they were just happy to have a new one.

The cat still loves to hang out in the sink. The first one liked it there, and so does the new one, amazingly enough!

My Mom still gives me the best of whatever she has. She insisted I have her new fan, not the one that rattles, and having body wash and lotion for me when I didn't even think she heard me say I needed it. At eighty three she still seems to have everything everyone needs.

My Dad still says, "Everything is better when you're here....."

And when I close my eyes I still hear, "Watch me, Nori!" and it makes me happy but sad all at the same time.

My niece still has a problem saying her "L's." She was so thrilled that her Auntie was there with her, watching her swim. And she laughed and laughed at the video I made of her kitties getting into a tussle. Her favorite thing to do now is make videos of us when she thinks we aren't watching and then laugh uproariously when we catch her at it.

I have found that going home teaches me lessons all over again. I learn things about myself and some of them don't make me happy, yet I am thankful for them because without the realization, the change wouldn't be possible.

Going home is made up of little hard and soft moments all strung out together.

I realized this, as Mom and I sat hand in hand watching Franklin Graham evangelize India. We each shed tears because how could you not, watching people who have nothing, suddenly gain everything? Part of mine were shed because everytime I am near them, I feel the weight of time pressing heavy.

We are a family in crisis mode, and aren't we all? And sometimes, most times, I just don't know to help.

One thing I do know to be true, the faith that has kept us together through so much still stands, will always stand. And always.....He keeps us.

And going home and coming home are both very good.

"The LORD shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore." Psalm 121:8

When we forget where our help comes from

I look up to the mountains—

does my help come from there?

My help comes from the Lord,

who made heaven and earth!

He will not let you stumble;

the one who watches over you will not slumber.

Indeed, he who watches over Israel

never slumbers or sleeps.

The Lord himself watches over you!

The Lord stands beside you as your protective shade.

The sun will not harm you by day,

nor the moon at night.

The Lord keeps you from all harm

and watches over your life.

The Lord keeps watch over you as you come and go,

both now and forever.

Psalm 121

It's easy to forget where our help comes from sometimes. As I prayed yesterday, my face to the carpet, in whispers of desperation, "My shoulders are not big enough, Jesus, they are so small....." as tears threatened, "not nearly big enough to carry the sorrows and heartaches of loved ones back home, loved ones here, as well as my own, I can't do it."

And I realized my foolishness when His quiet reply came to my heart, "You were never meant to carry them, child, but I can, and not only that, I want to!"

I am so sorry Jesus......I kept you on the back shelf, again.

Why do we try to carry what we never meant to, I wonder? Sometimes we Christians think we are supposed to be strong enough, as people of faith. We tell ourselves things like we shouldn't be stressed because we have the Lord, after all.

I got up after my very short prayer and went outside. The morning was cool and beautiful......Elaine came out with me, already awake. She knew how hard my first day back would be, she knew the burdens I carried, because people already carrying big burdens recognize when others are buckling under the load.

We sat at the patio table as God colored the sky an impossible shade of violet and pink. She told me of a radio program she liked listening to from 5-6:00 in the morning, about stocks and bonds and finance. I loved that she wanted to share it. It was like a gift exchange sitting there, she and I in the quiet morning.

It was so peaceful, that little conversation, Heaven touching earth, because He was there too.

As she talked, light filled the sky and I kept on sitting. As I rose from my chair I said, "I better make a call."

I didn't go in, I couldn't go in, not yesterday.

And it was okay. Because sometimes the truth is that though you may not feel physically sick, you feel sick at heart, sick from stress. But sick is sick, and it's okay to be weak sometimes.

As long as we remember who it is that is strong.

I want to wish a very Happy Birthday to my Dad, who is 84 years young today!

Today's picture is for you, Dad. Almost 40 years ago we climbed this mountain together, what a time we had!

Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. 1 Peter 5:7

I was driving down the freeway when it hit. I felt that familiar feeling........the shallow breathing, the knot of tears forming in my throat. They come sometimes without warning. It started as an ordinary task in an ordinary day. I was following Elaine because she was taking her car in.

I held it at bay, at arms length, because I have to get stuff done. I think it's just life piling up sometimes, and it has to come out somewhere, sometime. I am no stranger to this feeling. It has always been with me.

One of the very first times I can remember was when I caved during a Christmas play at church.

I had one line, I don't even remember what it was. Because all of a sudden all I wanted to do was get off that stage......I strained my eyes through the bright lights and all I wanted was to find my parents. And then I did.

The road blurred through tears. I breathed little puffs of air. I turned off the freeway and onto the street. Off to my right was man on the sidewalk wearing flip-flops, a Hawaiian shirt and shorts....and a guitar strapped around his shoulder. He was carrying on a very animated conversation, with himself.

Laughter bubbled up through the tears a little hysterically, I thought........"I hope that's not gonna be me someday soon."


Then I thought of my childhood friend Mary. Mary of the big blue eyes and wonderful reading voice.


It was always either her or me the teachers chose for reading out loud. I still remember her singing a solo in a school fashion show, she sang "After the Ball" in a blue dress. I don't know what happened with Mary but many years later my folks told me she would skate down the street in a full hockey uniform, helmet and all. She never played hockey a day in her life.


She died recently at my age, only 53. She had a daughter and I would love to see her.  I wonder if she had Mary's eyes, and liked to read. I hope she will be okay.


Don't we all dance a bit close to the border of crazy at times? I think you kind of have to, to live this life we all live.

As I caught sight of Elaine's jeep through the maze of cars, right in the midst of my panic I thought......."Thank you Lord." Because all my life I have never had to go through this feeling alone, and some people have.

And this wonderful friend has been with me through so much. And I will tell her about this, and she will say, "Well, maybe you are a little bit crazy, but I understand, and everything is gonna be fine."

Because after all, God has us. He really does. 

The Dangers of Assumption

Two are better than one,

Because they have a good reward for their labor.

For if they fall, one will lift up his companion.

But woe to him who is alone when he falls,

For he has no one to help him up.

Ecclesiastes 4:9,10

Do me a favor today? If you live with someone, walk across the room and  grab their hands and look in their eyes and ask them if everything is okay. Even if you think everything is alright.

They may smile, shake their head and pull away, or think you're being silly. They might giggle or laugh self-conciously. But then again they might surprise you and words might come tumbling out. Words they have been waiting to share.

Chances are, if you are living with someone, you have settled into a routine of what you call normal. Maybe one person is more silent, and the other one's the talker. And usually it works. Life hums along. But when stress and life and circumstance come beating against the door, the seismic pattern shifts. All of a sudden what worked yesterday, is broken today.

Maybe it happened so gradually that you didn't even notice. But now the silence is deafening and you, being the quiet one, pull in even further. You think maybe leaving them alone in their silence will fix it.....make the problem go away. But it never will.

If someone you love is quiet and they usually aren't, something may be drastically wrong, and more silence won't fix it.

They will wonder why you are leaving them alone.........They will wonder why you are leaving them to battle it out all my themselves.......They will wonder if you care at all.

Learn from me........I have made this mistake in the past, and I am sure I will again, of assuming that everything is okay, and then being shocked into awareness that things are very much not okay.

Leave a note in your wallet if you have to. Take it out and read it again and again.

Then do what it says.

Talk.

Phone Phobia

Me and phones.

I put off calling people, even people I really want to talk to. I don't know why, I guess because when I analyze it, I automatically assume you are doing something important and I would be an interruption. I don't know where that comes from, I guess a bit of shyness that has always been part of my character. Leftover from long ago.........That, and I can't see what you are doing. My imagination works overtime. I think how busy you are and the phone ringing would be taking you away from all that. And I can imagine you might think to yourself, "Oh, it's her."

My Mom had a brand new friend that she called out of the blue for the first time and the friend said, "What do you want?"  I would have been mortified. Of course, she was joking and they had a good laugh. And my Mom has a very healthy self-image and was unfazed. Now when I call Mom, often she starts the conversation with that same line and we both laugh.

But I want you to know, that if I don't call you, it's not because I don't want to talk to you, or that I am not thinking of you. I do, and I am. And if you called I would be very happy no matter what I was doing. Unless you were trying to sell me something.

I guess that's why I love texting. I never used to text.....at all. Actually, I didn't know how, and also, I didn't have an IPhone. I love texting, I don't have to worry about interrupting anything. If you text back, that means you want to talk. That opens the door for me to respond back.

But it's never the same. Hearing your voice is so much better. Especially when I can hear you smile over the phone. I picture your face and imagine where you are calling from.....maybe I see your room or kitchen and picture you in it, and that makes me smile.

Really, phone calls across the miles are magic. Sometimes when I get a special phone call, I remember right where I was standing when I got it.

Don't ever worry about calling me, whatever I am doing or whatever time it is. It means you want to talk to me, and that means everything.

I will try my best despite my phone phobia, to do the same for you.

The cake tells the story

After years of vain familiarity, some distant gesture or unconscious behavior, which we remember, speaks to us with more emphasis than the wisest or kindest words. We are sometimes made aware of a kindness long passed, and realize that there have been times when our Friends’ thoughts of us were of so pure and lofty a character that they passed over us like the winds of heaven unnoticed; when they treated us not as what we were, but as what we aspired to be. Henry David Thoreau


I am so thankful today that I have such a friend, and today I celebrate her life, her Birthday. There are so many things I would like to give her, so much she deserves. If I could I would give her a trip to Paris and a dinner under the twinkling lights of the Eiffel tower. And a full moon smiling.......And then I would whisper a prayer to God to have the stars do a little dance. Cause sometimes, as she so often says, sometimes you just gotta give it a little dance.


Or I would buy her an East Coast cruise to tour every single lighthouse.


What I would most like to give her right now is freedom, which she doesn't have. Freedom to get in the car and go somewhere, anywhere, overnight. She is doing what she has to do right now, even though it is incredibly difficult. She is living what Ann Voskamp so aptly describes as the Hard Hallelujah. Where faith meets reality.


I know that every day she meets Jesus, because she can't do it without Him. Even with Him it's tough. This cake tells the story of her life as it is right now. Her Mom asked what the cake was for, and then for the umpteenth time, she asked her whose Birthday it was. Really, that was partially my fault. I put up the Birthday banner way too early. You learn not to do that with Alzheimer's.


Her Mom stayed in the kitchen and Elaine figured out why soon after when she came out with a piece of cake and said, "That is good cake." At least she said it was good.


Months ago I had put in for this day off, her Birthday, so we could hang out like we usually do on her special day. Then there was a scheduling conflict with someone else and they would have had to come home from out of state early. She said, go ahead and let him have the day. That is just how she is. That's why I love her so.

I don't like to imagine my life without her joy, her laughter, her unique brand of sunshine. She loves God and He loves her. She is God's kid through and through. You can tell by what she does.


It's in the way she loves people. It's in all the little things she does when nobody except God is watching. She is the one who sees the baby carrier in the beat up car and finds the weary parent and slips them a twenty. She's the one who pays for the Sonic order behind her. She's the one who hand delivers bowls of cut up watermelon for the neighbors.


And every time she makes ice-cream cones, she makes three more to take next door.


She's God's kid. She notices when people need help, need to talk, need a listener. And she gets busy and does something about it. Not a dispassionate noticer, not her.


She's my best friend in the world and I wish everyone could have the pleasure of knowing her. She is truly, the friend everyone would like to have.


I know she will be embarrassed by this, but after all, best friends are for shining the spotlight on each other. She has been shining the light on me now for 23 years, and I thank God for her everyday. Her life is a blessing.

Happy Birthday Elaine!

When God writes a story......

We have a history, this girl and our family. It seems like forever ago that she came into our lives, and forever since I had seen her. Her folks lived right next door for a time, and my Mom having never met a stranger, got to know them. My Mom started to take care of Heather after her Mom went back to work.....She would arrive in the mornings like a little Anne Geddes baby, smelling as sweet as a rosebud. She grew into our hearts, this girl with the mischievous and independent spirit. She was part of our family.

When it came time for my wedding, I knew Heather just had to be in it.

When I look at this picture now, I see everything that came after for us both. But back then, it was as the Carpenter's song said, a day of "white lace and promises." Soon after, my brand new husband would be gone from this earth, leaving a chasm so deep I didn't know how I would ever get over it. But God brought me through that. Brought us all through that.

As Heather got older, my Mom kept in touch.....saw her at the store every now and then. She went through that "all in black" stage when she hit her teens. Fell in with the wrong crowd as they say. We heard she was having some hard times, some struggles. And then she was lost to us. We heard snatches of things here and there from her Aunt, none of the news very good. Her Aunt would tell us to pray, so that is what we did.

Her Dad died, and after that it seemed we didn't hear anything at all for a very long time. She was lost to us, and I am sure she would agree, lost to herself for those many years. My Mom worried and prayed, and I am sure her own Mom did too.

Mom persisted through the years, kept checking up, kept praying that some day the news would be good. And one day it was......It seemed that Heather had resurfaced. She had come out the other side of some hard times. She got away from some influences that were better left behind. She got a good job and kept it.

She was baptised into new life in the Puget Sound.

And what a joyous time it was, when she and Mom met again that first time after so long. She said, "I got my girl back...." I can only imagine the tears of joy that were shed that day. God closed a gap  for them on all those missing years.

I was thrilled at the news, and though I had contacted her on Facebook, I still hadn't seen her in person.When I heard she was going to be in Phoenix, I knew there was no way I could let her go back home without seeing her, especially when I found out her Mom was with her.

And as I got ready, I was so nervous. I fussed about what to wear. I worried what she'd think of me now, no longer young, like she remembered me. And when did my teeth get so yellow? How blotchy my skin was. I critiqued myself before the mirror. Maybe we have nothing in common, I thought. Maybe she won't even like me.......

As we waited in the lobby for her to come down, I paced. I chatted nervously with Elaine, who had last seen Heather the same time as me, around 1988 or 89. I saw her face change as she looked at something behind me, and suddenly I felt two hands covering my eyes, and a warm embrace from behind.

And all of a sudden, those years fell away, and so did all my worries. As I looked in her eyes, I saw love shining out. Our Heather was back.

We talked and laughed for 5 hours straight, the four of us. Her Mom and Elaine found they had some things in common, they compared notes on caretaking, since her husband is on the same medications as Elaine's Mom for Dementia. I could see the stress, the weight of it in her eyes.

When we went to leave at the end of the night, Heather called me "Sis" and picked me up like I was the kid, I realized again, that family doesn't neccesarily have to mean blood.

What it does mean is love unconditional no matter what. For better and for worse. 

Friends, family and prayer holds us over to the better parts of life. Life is a combo plate, no doubt about it. With its own mixture of happy and sad, sprinkled with tears of laughter and sorrow. When I looked at the four of us on Tuesday I saw everything we have gone through, all of us. I saw some strong women, and an even stronger God.

All these years I have carried a memory of a little girl, reading out loud from a book my Mom used to read to her as they sat close, about how God's love will always find you. "Even if I sank deep, deep to the bottom of the ocean, Your love would find me."  It did Heather, it did.

It found us all. When God weaves a story, the ending is always happy.

And didn't she turn out beautifully? I am kicking myself ever since for not getting a photo of us together....but that is for next time, I guess.

A special thanks to my Mom who never gave up on bringing Heather back into our circle of life and to Heather's Mom for inviting us back in.

Goin' Visiting....

Hey.....I will see you tomorrow, I am doing a bit of visiting on your blogs today.

It's been too long since I have gone blog hopping.

Wait for my knock on your door.

I love coffee!

Walnuts and other stuff

I have a thing for walnuts. I can hardly walk by the walnut bin at the grocery store without digging in with both hands. I love how they sound and the texture. I know I would love how they smell too, but due to a genetic weakness inherited from my Grandfather, I have never been able to smell. That's just one more thing in a long list that will get fixed in Heaven.

I had a walnut adventure yesterday, well the cats and I did.

It all started with a package of store-bought cookies. They were mexican wedding cookies, the ones that I decided I wasn't going to make this year. They were okay. In fact, I am ashamed to say, I ate every single one of them. But they were nothing like mine. Now I had an unrequitted craving that wasn't about to go away. I had no choice but to make them.  

I had pecans but I really wanted walnuts. My funny friend knows about my walnut fetish so last Christmas she gave me a sack in the shell, and they were still there in the cupboard. I dug out my nutcracker from wayyyy under the cabinet, since now I mostly buy nuts that Costco has already cracked and packaged very nicely.  It was too cold to go outside so I spread a sheet in my room and let the shells fly!

The cats thought it was a great adventure. They interrupted their morning naps and sprang off the bed like kittens: "What have we here? We don't recognize this thing you are doing on our floor." Somehow a rogue pecan had made its way into the bag so I rolled it their way. They batted it back and forth, but then Sydney smelled food like substance coming from the cracked nuts, so he stayed close by. His begging could put any dog to shame.

It was great fun. It only took me about 20 minutes and I had a nice little pile. I was surprised how I remembered some things. My Mom and I cracking walnuts on the cold garage floor on fall days. And going out to my Aunt's little country house and picking them off her trees. I closed my eyes and heard the sounds, the voices.....it seemed so far away.

I heard the squawking of the blue jays, and the flutter of their wings as they swooped down. I remembered the brick wall in her kitchen and how she had See's candy in the fridge. And how her sunny yellow bathroom curtains had fuzzy balls on the ends that I liked to touch.

And I remember all those years of Christmas baking and all the smiles of joy as they got their basket of homemade goodies. All of the trips to the store for a forgotten ingredient. And it surprised me how memories of those walnuts hurt. Hurt for those years gone and that they went so fast.

But there is more to be thankful for.......I still have my Mom, and I still have my Aunt. Though many years have passed, there is hope in every moment we all have right now, together.

This morning I broke the rules. I didn't eat a sensible breakfast, I had two Mexican Wedding cookies with my coffee at 4:30 AM, and they were just as good as I thought they would be.

I have not one regret.

Multitude Mondays on the Road

I am posting my blessings on a Wednesday instead of Monday because I didn't want to miss an opportunity.......to thank Him again for outshining the stresses with blesses.

As I lay awake after my arrival, my mind swirling....one thousand thoughts converging......

colliding, worries tumbling over and over like a spin dryer.

Everything that comes with wanting to be everywhere at once when visiting family. The excitement of being there, and the sometimes extreme duress that came with traveling with someone extremely unpredictable, and with many special needs and challenges. It all swirled around.

My heart beating, my neck tense.....I prayed and let it all out to Him who listens best and can calm my heart when all else fails.

Still the blessings shine through the darkness. And many smiles were had and much laughter too. Now that I am home, I remember one after the other.

Being able to park the RV at my Aunt's place on the Mokelumne River, and it was a blessing to her too to have us there. A comfort to her since now she comes home in the dark, her husband spends his days and nights away in a rest home. She said over and over again how she enjoyed it....having us there.

Seeing my Mom's Bible study gals again.....their faith always shines through whatever they are dealing with, and there are many issues. But oh how we laughed and got a bit of study in too. Sometimes the fellowship is the most important part of the lesson.

Being able to spend time with Lauryn, my niece, my precious girl whose voice I still hear right now...saying my name which I waited so long for her to say. She has captured my heart with all the things she does......As I put scattered Lego's back in the bag, my heart tugged.....lurched for her and the fun we had. Leaving is so bittersweet.

Enjoying a walk downtown in the crisp fall weather......clicking with my camera and enjoying once again walking all the paths I used to walk.

And of course, being able to do some things for Mom and Dad who are so appreciative of every small thing I do. I only wish it could be more......enjoying great food cooked by my brother, who really missed his calling. He should have been a chef.

Throwing an impromptu party for the "girls" in the Motor home. Elaine cooked a wonderful dinner and we laughed until our stomachs ached. My Aunt came out later and said what a great time she had.....

And to top it off. A spontaneous side trip to the ocean. I promise, pictures will follow.............There was a special place she longed to go, my best friend.....but with her Mom along, there was not much peace or relaxation for her. Let's just say it was not a real vacation. Her dream of escaping there for a few days didn't work out, so she asked me......Want to take a side trip to the coast on the way back?

It would mean getting back with no time to spare for work. But suddenly the prospect of going there, standing on the pounding surf, was irresistible. And she beamed like the sun......We turned the "bus" to the West with our hearts singing.

And Oh, the seafood. The magic of the waves, walking for hours and hours on the beach, watching the sandpipers clown around the shore, and the otter who entertained us for a solid hour with his antics.

It was all so wonderful. There is truly nothing like praying by the ocean.

Getting to bed at midnight and getting up at four AM for work is something I have not done in a while. But the memories and bit of peace and relaxation we carried away is worth every bit of sleep lost.

Sleep can be caught up. Moments are for seizing,  and once passed we can't be sure they will come again.

#714-725

It Takes a Village (of Old Ladies)

I am the fire upon the hearth,
I am the light of the good sun,
I am the heat that warms the earth,
Which else were colder than a stone.

Taken from the poem, "Any Woman" by Katherine Tynan

It was a rose of the Grandiflora variety......Love is the name of it. That was all it took to spark a memory of a special lady named Marie Day. And she was.....like day I mean. She gave our family one of these beautiful rose bushes....she had a passion for roses. It bloomed for years.....a creamy pinkie white in the inside with flaming red on the outside.

She did other things too. Special things for me and my Mom. She knew I loved lace, and that I loved to put clothes on my furniture. She made me the most wonderful embroidered dresser scarves. And pillowcases with colorful flowers. For me, the girl across the block. And she made the greatest zucchini bread. She was a sweetheart. She and her husband were fixtures in our neighborhood.

We have all grown up with them. These venerable and wise elderly ladies of our neighborhoods, our villages. Church ladies and non-church ladies....you know the ones. They save pennies in a sock to give to the needy in the community. They hold down the fort, the neighborhood, the pew. They are pillars. Pillars of strength to their families whom they have given their lives, and not in misery....in joy. Their strength is knowing they have made others bloom.

They are tireless and work circles around everyone else. They fall into bed exhausted and sometimes they cry at night from carrying the weight of the world.......but only late at night when everyone else has been fed, comforted, fixed.

Then there was our neighbor Alma Nystrom. She also grew roses and the most wonderful pink Azaleas and Gladiolas, towers of color. She loved when I went over and picked some. She baked the best scratch cakes I have ever tasted. And every year.........Fluffy white pillows on a plate, the best Divinity I have ever tasted. I think of her every year I make it.

I will never forget the horror when our dog decided to lift his leg on her once when she was standing in the yard. I don't even remember her getting upset about it. Maybe she never noticed?

She had her grief.....lost her only son to diabetes too young, and that was after his wife left him. She was a part of our lives for a long time. Her sisters would come up the drive like a mini parade before they all went to church together, all looking like they just walked out of a style magazine. Then they would all come back and settle in Alma's kitchen for a small glass of beer and lunch.

My Aunt had Mrs.Swall next door. She always had a cat settled on her lap and what impressed me the most? Candy hidden in her dresser.

All of them dear.....all of them gone. I miss them. so much.

One day I hope to grow into one of those gracious and kind ladies. I have much to live up to.

Till we meet again

Since I am at work on a computer all day Saturday, I manage to get some free time to go visiting. In Blogland that is. Don't worry, I am not doing anything unethical.......In our 12 hour shift, we get two free hours to spend however we want. It is one benefit to working when much of the world is off doing fun things like going to Costco and yard sales and picnics in the park.

Growing up, Saturday was a day for visiting. That's what my Mom and I did together. Oftentimes we would visit Mom's friend Rosie. Rosie was a tiny spark of a woman, from a big Sicilian family. Rosie liked flowers and decorating, refinishing her own furniture, and all things feminine. It wasn't easy in a house with a husband and four boys.

Going there was like visiting little Italy in a war zone. I never knew anyone who could be all sweetness and soft voice one minute, and screaming at the top of her lungs at one of her four boys the next. She turned on a dime. She had to with all those boys in the house. They were always doing something to get on her last nerve. But she loved them with all her heart, and they all loved her.

One morning when we stopped by she was making Bisquick pancakes. She had to send Steven to the store twice. Once for milk and once for something else. She made the first one and promptly threw it in the trash.When my Mom asked her why, she said, "Oh, none of them will eat the first one because of the oil." When she had run out of syrup, another son straggled in, miffed that he had missed breakfast. She proceeded to make him waffles, telling my Mom that they didn't use syrup with waffles.

She loved working with figures and hated paying taxes. She did our taxes for years, as well as her brothers and sisters and all their families. She knew the state of California's tax laws backwards and forwards. She would sit at her kitchen table and throw down Italian curses on the Government.

It got really interesting when her brothers and sisters were visiting. None of them agreed on politics and they regularly got into screaming matches over it. Then they would hug and kiss when they got ready to leave like nothing happened. Visiting Rosie's house was better than a movie for me, being raised in a quiet family. My Dad was raised in angry shouts, so we simply didn't shout.

Rosie was the queen of improvisation. They had a family dog who I think was equal parts German shepard and coyote. One day we were there when she had run out of dog food and hadn't been to the store yet. We watched incredulously as she poured ketchup over a bowl filled with chicken bones and leftover stew. Snoopy lapped it up like it was high quality pate. Anyone else would have worried about the bones, not Rosie.

Many times she invited all the pop warner parents and kids out to her house when they lived in the country and she never had all the ingredients for anything. One time she had a huge salad and nothing to put on it but an industrial size can of olive oil.

She was one of the most unique individuals with one of the best hearts, and I miss her.

Rosie never gave much thought to religion or God. She believed in the goodness of humanity. Her youngest son Steven became a born-again Christian. He and His Mom had many talks after that, and he never stopped praying for her. When he got married, his wife prayed too. At one point between all those conversations and the time she died of cancer, Rosie met the Lord.
 
She has been gone for years now and sometimes I still can't believe it. It's funny.....I didn't set out to do a post about Rosie, but I am glad it turned out that way. Our words and stories about people is what keep them alive in our hearts. Many times I have said a prayer of thanks to God that I will see her again.
 
I called my Mom this morning to see if she remembered about the pancakes, and she couldn't believe it. On the way home just about two hours ago she had passed some kids in football uniforms and thought about all those dinners at Rosie's house. She said she hadn't thought about her in some time.
 
One life, twice remembered in one day.

Till we meet again Rosie!

Book of Kindness

It's time for counting kindness......

An interesting thing happened when I started to count the gifts of gratitude one by one......that counting the good things became even more a part of who I am.

They slipped in quietly, but they surprised me by their insistence, even when I was worried, or stressed, or angry, or scared.....they came alongside and made their presence known, and didn't back down.

And now I find myself wanting to count other things. That is what started my book of kindnesses.....

It is for keeping track of the things my friends and family have done for me or others......all those little things it's so easy to lose track of. It's so important to know that there is still much kindness left in the world.

My Mom in her childhood watches.....I think she likes the idea

And hopefully, this counting will inspire me to practice kindness on myself and others, because I know there is much room for me to grow. These I don't count, for God Himself keeps track of each one done

In Jesus name......."And (A)whoever in the name of a disciple gives to one of these [a]little ones even a cup of cold water to drink, truly I say to you, he shall not lose his reward.” Matthew 10:42

First entry: Diane (who bought me this little book) goes with my Mom to the Doctor during a scary checkup

Second entry: Just about every time Elaine makes an ice-cream cone for our household, she makes three extra and takes them next door to Bob, Eileen and Estelle

Third entry: Bob and Eileen take Elaine to get her car from the shop

I often like to imagine all the many things that Jesus must have done that we have never heard about.....

"And there are also many other things that Jesus did, which if they were written one by one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that would be written. Amen." John 21:25

I have a feeling they ended up in the Father's own book of kindness

A Few Highlights.....

I headed to the attic alcove and hung my hat........

My very own lookout....in the morning I opened the windows and woke up with the Stellar's Jays racket high up in the trees.....heavenly.

This wonderful cabin had windows that opened in.....I was like a little kid when I saw them!

Our home for two wonderful days.......

Lunch at one of my favorite places with three of my favorite people Diane and Elaine......(My Mom not pictured)

 Meeting the new family member, Abby

I got to spend some quality "Aunty" time with our girl, Lauryn

Lauryn and my brother, Ron who bought us this wonderful cabin for the weekend!

Yes, it is.......

Now we are home, bringing back summer colds but thankfully, great memories to go along with them! These memories we made are such gifts from God and I am truly thankful for every moment......

Blogging across the fence

I like to think of blogging as meeting for coffee, or over the back fence. People used to do that, and in some places they still do. Recently my Mom was over at my Aunt's house and she saw a gathering of people in the front yard playing dominoes. Yes, in the front....almost scandalous nowadays. They were laughing and carrying on and having a great old time. It was a good thing to see. Of course my Mom, never having met a stranger, had to go talk to them.

They exchanged information.....greeting.....fellowship. A bit of bringing Heaven down to earth. All because they made themselves available. Open.

I have lived before in neighborhoods where every evening a symphony of garage doors would open with big yawns and swallow up the cars and the people in them and that was the last you saw of your neighbor. One time my Mom was visiting and she got so starved for people she flagged someone down who was driving by just for someone to talk to.

In these days of mobility and technology we often lose that sense of community. It gets to be a challenge to get back in touch with it. That's why I like blogging. I feel like we are virtual neighbors meeting over the back fence. A little solitude is a very good thing, but too much is not good, we tend to make ourselves crazy.
God knew that too.

Sharing beliefs, joys and sorrows, snippets of our lives makes us feel like we are not alone. We join hands across the aisles, finding common ground in all sorts of things. We see how we are the same and how we are different.

And how wonderful to be able to pray for someone I have never actually met!

So pull up a chair, gather around, pour yourself a cup.

You don't even have to call before you come by.

".......and let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds, not forsaking our own assembling together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another; and all the more as you see the day drawing near." Hebrews 10:24, 25 

I really like you!

"God promised to make you free. He never promised to make you independent." — Madeleine L'Engle (The Irrational Season)

I went downstairs to the cafe today at work. There were people everywhere, people I had never seen before. I thought,"Who are all these people and where do they come from, and what is their story?" Then I thought......"Why do I feel so disconnected to them all?"

I guess because I don't know their stories.....You sit by a stranger and they start telling you things about themselves and they are no longer strangers, they are potential friends. Especially if they are going through some of the same things you are. There is a kinship, instantly. You figure out how you are the same and how you are different.....what you have in common and what you don't.

There is a solid connection where there was only possibility before.

I guess that's why I love this blogging thing. I feel connected to all of you, like I do know you....well, at least I feel like I do. And I like you! We have never met face to face, but I count you all as friends. That's what Jesus said, "I have called you friends." I try to stop in at least every other day or so, to see what's going on in your neck of the woods. Sometimes I comment, and sometimes I say a prayer as I'm reading your posts. Always, I am amazed by the wisdom and creativity I find there.

I want you to know I consider you my brothers and sisters, and I am glad you are out there. I'm glad God led me to your blogs, and to you. 

And someday, in this place or that other place we look to call home someday, we will meet, I am sure of it.

I really look forward to that day because......

I really do like you all!

"I thank my God, making mention of you always in my prayers, hearing of your love and faith which you have toward the Lord Jesus and toward all the saints, that the sharing of your faith may become effective by the acknowledgment of every good thing which is in you in Christ Jesus." Philemon 1:4-6

Yours truly, trying to stay out of the sun!

Angels at IKEA

Keep on loving one another as brothers and sisters. Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it. Hebrews 13:1

It was just another task on the long list of things to be done. Going to get a TV stand to put on the gargantuan TV that came out of the Mother's house. So many tasks had preceded this one, that all days, for many days, had spilled over into one another. One day bleeds into the next in a seemingly never ending tasklist. It is a military type existence......Up on your feet, lace up your boots, be physically and mentally ready for whatever comes next.

She was running on empty, fumes of exhaustion left over from somewhere in time, when it all started. Through it all, she has kept her sense of humor and momentary lost her sanity. I have been helping out, holding her up.....praying her through it.

She was standing in the aisle of IKEA. Ready once again for a nervous breakdown because the tag on the TV stand didn't match the one on the display rack. Do you know how big IKEA is when you are exhausted? All the way back upstairs to the display, making sure she had the right tag...."Yep, there it is." All the way back down to the checkout. Again, error on the scan. Earlier she had led her Mom to a seat and told her to stay there until she came back.

Insert mental image here of elderly woman with Alzheimer's who walks extremely slow and gets turned around......a lot, in two floor big box IKEA. Another mental image of exhausted, stricken daughter with very large box that won't scan.....teetering on the edge.

Later she said, "I must have looked pretty bad, like I needed help......" She was standing glassy-eyed in the aisle staring again at the display, contemplating another long walk downstairs, when just then a kind angel appeared at her shoulder, "Can I help you, are you finding what you need?" What welcome words, they might as well have been coming straight from Heaven itself. He knew his job, he saw the mistake right away. He fixed the mess.

Ever had someone come and clean up the mess at a time when it seems all you have been doing lately is cleaning up messes? You never forget it.

All the while, she is hoping and praying her Mom stayed where she put her. She usually doesn't wander.....yet.

Then, another "angel" came when she wheeled the heavy box out into the parking lot. It was like he appeared from nowhere, she tells me later. She asks me if I sent him. She says, "I know you were praying. "

I said, "Yes, of course  I was."

Photo courtesy of http://thehalfwaypoint.net/2009/09/50-simple-ways-to-pay-it-forward/

Twenty five years down the road........

Facebook find #1



I met her at Jazzercise and we formed an instant connection. We loved working out, buying all the latest workout togs at the local dance store. We watched movies together and she and her husband attended church....the same church I went to. They had their problems, like any couple. They had an adorable little baby boy and moved into a nice home. It seemed they had a charmed life. She was a bridesmaid at my wedding and we had a great time selecting dresses and doing all the fun stuff that goes along with it.

After my husband passed away unexpectedly, we parted ways a bit. Maybe she didn't know what to say to me and  maybe I should have tried harder to approach her. Maybe my tragedy made her uncomfortable. I still saw her at Jazzercise, where she brought her new little girl, Jordan. She had golden ringlets and huge blue eyes. A perfect child for a perfect couple, in a perfect life. Things were no longer the same between us.

I found her again on Facebook just yesterday. I didn't "friend" her, I think some friendships are best left in the past. She is divorced and both she and her husband are remarried from what I could see. Her little girl is no longer innocent. Her profile page was loaded with a few shall I say, very colorful expressions. Nothing about God. Nothing about church. But she is beautiful, and my old friend still looks great too. But it saddened me. I know that with divorce comes sadness, pain. And we were close once.

A second Facebook find.......

Her Dad did my husband's memorial service. He was a wonderful and kind man, with a great sense of humor. I attended the church where he was a Pastor shortly before moving from California. I will never forget how often he used to stop by my folks house to see me after Jody died. He was softspoken and often emotional, a very sensitive man. He was not the best preacher but nobody cared, the love he and his wife had for the Lord shone through in their love for others. They had two daughters, and later, twin sons. Shortly before I moved, the daughter got married to a great guy, a youth Pastor. She borrowed my wedding veil which I was overjoyed to let her use.

Flash forward to now.......She is still married to the same man all these years later, and they have two or three kids. On the FB news feed I saw that her husband, Rick just finished another missions trip to Africa, where I guess they have been several times. When I read of her life, I was happy for her parents, because I know they don't have to worry about her life. She and her husband belong to the Lord. On her profile there was nothing you couldn't show anyone, including her parents. Things like camping, coffeeshops, scrapbooking, and no swear words.

Two lives, two reactions. One of sadness, one of joy and hope.

I know what I got was at best an incomplete snapshot of what is really going on......but I think it told me a lot. Only time will tell how it plays out for any of us, but with God's grace we do the best we can. We know who waits for us at the end of the road....

"Watch your life and doctrine closely. Persevere in them, because if you do, you will save both yourself and your hearers." 1 Timothy 4:16

Bear one another's burdens

"Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. If anyone thinks they are something when they are not, they deceive themselves. Each one should test their own actions. Then they can take pride in themselves alone, without comparing themselves to someone else,  for each one should carry their own load." Galatians 6:2-5

At first glance I was confused by these verses because they seem to contradict one another, first it says to carry each other's burdens and then it turns around and says for each to carry their own load. But after some online study I found that it does not. The key is in the meaning of the words burden and load.

The word for burdens is baros, which means "heaviness, weight, burden, trouble" In verse six the word for load is phortion and means, "of burdensome rites." While the first speaks of helping one another through troubles the second speaks of the responsibility each person has for their own troubles and sins.

Helping someone to carry a burden is a very good thing. But, actually taking the load on yourself is much different. It is like two people walking, one carrying a very heavy pack. They make it look easy so you say, "Here friend, let me take that awhile".....WHOA! once you strap that pack on yourself you realize just how heavy it is. I got a picture of Frodo and Sam this morning while I was thinking about this. Sam was always supporting Frodo as he carried the weight of the ring, but there were times when Sam actually wore the ring himself, and immediately he felt the montrous weight of the burden Frodo carried.

What started this whole train of thought was yesterday. I felt just a tiny bit of the load that my very best friend carries dealing with a Mom with Alzheimer's and a Dad with Dementia, that is, Dementia with quite a bit of meanness thrown in, I might add. I was on the way to get them groceries for them, as a favor to her. It's the least I could do since she actually got to get away for a bit. I stopped at a red light. Just for a second, I felt just a bit of what she must feel all the time..........Tears sprang to my eyes. She has dealt with the loss of both of them this year, but still they hang on.

"God, there but for the grace of You go all of us......" 

I thought of how you have to put your own mind in a very strange state to deal with people who aren't in their right mind. I am sure she wonders at times if she is losing her own sanity just trying to deal with them. She does amazingly well. She knows who her God is and that He is a very Big God. He can handle it when she cannot.

And behind it all, one thing stands out......

There was One who took our burden for all time. A very awful burden. One that only He could carry, and He did it willingly for us. He didn't want us to have to. He knew that we couldn't carry it, not even for one moment. I think, in light of that we are "more than conquerors in this life."

When all the dross of this life is burned up, there will be one thing left.

Endless Gratitude.

pictures from google images......

Journeys......

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord," plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you." Jeremiah 29:11,12

I heard trains last night.....I am presently in Barstow, California, the stopping point for this particular journey.....along with my very best friend at the wheel of what I call "the Bus" a 32 foot motor home. We are enroute, she to her brother and his family and myself to my parents house. We have made this trip many times, and there is always a new experience no matter how many times you have been down the same road.

We saw a semi-truck on its side yesterday, there were some high winds, but not terribly high. He may have fallen asleep and lost control....we whispered a prayer as we drove by. Our precious cargo includes "the garden." We didn't want to leave it home for the neighbors to watch, since my green-thumbed friend wants to take full responsibility. They are her babies now. Every sprout is encouraged, and exclaimed over. Now I know a little about how a farmer feels.

We passed the state-line without a hitch. I had forgotten all about the rules about bring plants over.....I can just imagine the headlines....."Two Church going Christian women caught, accused of bringing marijuana over the border! I could hear us now trying to explain that it is our future garden, consisting only of Okra, marigolds, radishes and spinach, but no pot.....Oh my!

The little green charges are currently on the dash recieving their morning dose of sunlight. Soon she will be bent over them with a water dropper for their watering and "encouragement."

We think our neighbor may be a Vietnam Vet, judging by the various bumper stickers which are plastered all over the back of his vehicle. He just walked by and looks like he may be related to Charles Manson's brother....Never a dull moment. One of the bumper stickers says, "Breast inspection 20 miles ahead, please have them out." Forgive me for that, but sometimes you have to be plunked right down in the middle of humanity like Jesus was. If we make it out of here without an incident we will be very happy. You never know what you might see in a KOA park.

What a blessing this trip....already. Everyone needs someone in their life that they can travel with so companionably. Nothing is a problem and everything is an adventure and a potential source of laughter......

This morning we read from the Bible and shared thoughts on Ephesians 6......we forge ahead today, each one of us reaching our destinations. In our hands, our hearts, we bring encouragement and blessings and love to our families who are all going through their own trials and hardships. And of course, they will do the same for us.....

Hopefully tomorrow I can post pictures of the "garden."