(to the tune of "Winter Wonderland")
North wind howls, hear it whistling,
Sets your neck hairs a’bristling
Hey, we’ll be all right!
We’re caught for the night
Stuck here in our winter wonderland.
Snowflakes fell while we slumbered
Our provisions are numbered
I wonder how long
We’ll all get along
Stuck here in our winter wonderland.
Someone got sent out to check the gas can
And found out the level’s really down.
We stared at each other and said, “Oh, man!
“We should’ve pick up more last time in town!”
I would like to inquire,
“Could we please start a fire?
“I’m cold! I’m afraid!
“Relief’s been delayed--
“(We’re) stuck here in our winter wonderland.”
Went back out again to check the gas can.
Spilled the last eight ounces on the ground.
We’ll just have to come with a new plan
To stay warm when the power lines are down.
Fam’ly life--so fulfilling!
So far there’s been no killing....
I guess we just stay
‘Til sometime next May
Stuck here in our winter wonderland.
© 2007
(Sorry, folks! It was stuck in my head—I had to let it out!)
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Monday, December 03, 2007
Passing Loaves and Fishes
In a recent online conversation with my friend, Robin, she said something so beautiful, so meaningful to me, that I was in tears as I read it. Then, I printed it out and shared it with some friends at church. Then, they wanted to get copies, or have me post it here! So...I contacted Robin and asked her permission. Her only request is that I/we credit her, so that when she uses her own words in the future she won't appear to be plagiarizing me. In fact, here's part of her response:
"The most important thing is hearts are fed. And my heart was not the only heart God intended to feed with those words. So break up those loaves and fishes and pass them around, girlfriend!"
So, without further ado, here's what Robin had to say:
If anyone would like to respond to Robin, I'd be happy to forward your comments.
"The most important thing is hearts are fed. And my heart was not the only heart God intended to feed with those words. So break up those loaves and fishes and pass them around, girlfriend!"
So, without further ado, here's what Robin had to say:
...Emmanuel means God with us. Even in our kitchen when we are arguing—God with us...During the "O, Holy Night" while the "stars were brightly shining," Mary was lying there on straw, bathed in blood, sweat, and tears—laboring...When we are in painful labor, when we are sweating and bleeding and crying, and all we can think about is our pain and "just keep breathing"...it's in that moment of personal agony that the Glory of God is being birthed in our life. But we miss it. We don't see it until later...Sweating out the boundaries...and trying to see past our own heartache, to behave in a Christlike, appropriate manner...It's in those crucible moments that the glory of God is appearing in our lives.
© 12/2/2007, Robin ________
If anyone would like to respond to Robin, I'd be happy to forward your comments.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
"Double" Post
A week ago, I met "Mike". Nice guy. However.... "Mike" leads a double life! When I first met him, it was in his "normal life" role—an employee of a Christian organization. We were at a conference together, and had a couple conversations over the two days. He never led me to believe that he had secrets.
That Saturday night, at a party, I discovered that on the weekends.... "Mike".... is a.... ROCKER *shocked gasp*! He was playing guitar with the band at the party!
Oh, wait! I was at the party! Guess that means that I have a double life, too. *sheepish eye-roll*
I think most people keep secrets. Some have deep, dark secrets like a hidden attraction to a married coworker. Other people have sily, embarrassing little secrets. Maybe they eat the filling from Oreos and throw the cookie away. I'm not convinced all facets of a double life are wrong. Sure, some, like an affair, need to see the light of day. But others, like a wedding night, or the birth of a child, or a parent's dying words are too special, too precious, too sacred to share indiscriminately with the world. Sometimes, complete honesty is the epitome of bravery. Other times, it's just shameless indiscretion. We need to discern when it's more prudent to tell, and when it's better to keep silent.
As a counterpoint, we need to use discretion when we happen across information about someone else's "double life." We need to be accepting of other, "outside the box" choices, provided they don't violate biblical guidelines. Not only that, we should be asking for God's guidance to tell or not to tell what we know, and we need to exercise restraint. If we decide that it's needful or acceptable to tell, we have to do it in a way that nurtures the truth, instead of leaving truth suffocated by deception and innuendo.
Speaking of nurturing the truth, that reminds me! About "Mike".... (see the first comment for this post)
That Saturday night, at a party, I discovered that on the weekends.... "Mike".... is a.... ROCKER *shocked gasp*! He was playing guitar with the band at the party!
Oh, wait! I was at the party! Guess that means that I have a double life, too. *sheepish eye-roll*
I think most people keep secrets. Some have deep, dark secrets like a hidden attraction to a married coworker. Other people have sily, embarrassing little secrets. Maybe they eat the filling from Oreos and throw the cookie away. I'm not convinced all facets of a double life are wrong. Sure, some, like an affair, need to see the light of day. But others, like a wedding night, or the birth of a child, or a parent's dying words are too special, too precious, too sacred to share indiscriminately with the world. Sometimes, complete honesty is the epitome of bravery. Other times, it's just shameless indiscretion. We need to discern when it's more prudent to tell, and when it's better to keep silent.
As a counterpoint, we need to use discretion when we happen across information about someone else's "double life." We need to be accepting of other, "outside the box" choices, provided they don't violate biblical guidelines. Not only that, we should be asking for God's guidance to tell or not to tell what we know, and we need to exercise restraint. If we decide that it's needful or acceptable to tell, we have to do it in a way that nurtures the truth, instead of leaving truth suffocated by deception and innuendo.
Speaking of nurturing the truth, that reminds me! About "Mike".... (see the first comment for this post)
Saturday, September 29, 2007
The Language of Love
Are you still wondering what Language Department's purpose was in making you take a foreign language? Well, if you took high school Spanish—here's a short video on how to win the heart of your true love, even with your limited vocabulary!
Useful Spanish
Useful Spanish
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Somewhere Under the Rainbow
On New Year's Eve last year, just two days before the wreck that took my dad, God gave me a double rainbow. It was there a long time—I'd say at least half an hour. Coming on New Year's Eve like it did, it seemed significant...like a promise for the new year. So I took pictures.
Then, just the other day, on Dad's birthday, God gave me another double rainbow! Once again, it stayed for more than half an hour. And coming as it did on Dad's birthday, after losing him so suddenly, it seemed significant again. So once again, I took pictures.
And yesterday, I suddenly remembered a conversation that I had with Dad as a teen, when spring was late in arriving, and I suggested maybe we wouldn't have a spring that year. Dad had pointed out that we can always count on the seasons because that's part of the promise of the rainbow! (Genesis 8:22, 9:8-9, 11-13) Seeing the rainbow on his birthday was just a neat little reminder from both of my dads that life will go on!
After the storm of sorrow, after the flood of tears, after the days of lonely isolation when the Land of Hope is nowhere in sight—after it all—comes the rainbow. Quietly, gently, catching us by surprise—it soars above the horizon. The rainbow—God's promise that the seasons will arrive again this year. His promise that life will go on.
Then, just the other day, on Dad's birthday, God gave me another double rainbow! Once again, it stayed for more than half an hour. And coming as it did on Dad's birthday, after losing him so suddenly, it seemed significant again. So once again, I took pictures.
And yesterday, I suddenly remembered a conversation that I had with Dad as a teen, when spring was late in arriving, and I suggested maybe we wouldn't have a spring that year. Dad had pointed out that we can always count on the seasons because that's part of the promise of the rainbow! (Genesis 8:22, 9:8-9, 11-13) Seeing the rainbow on his birthday was just a neat little reminder from both of my dads that life will go on!
Genesis 8
22 "As long as the earth endures,
seedtime and harvest,
cold and heat,
summer and winter,
day and night
will never cease."
Genesis 9
8 Then God said to Noah and to his sons with him: 9 "I now establish my covenant with you and with your descendants after you.
12 And God said, "This is the sign of the covenant I am making between me and you and every living creature with you, a covenant for all generations to come: 13 I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant....”
After the storm of sorrow, after the flood of tears, after the days of lonely isolation when the Land of Hope is nowhere in sight—after it all—comes the rainbow. Quietly, gently, catching us by surprise—it soars above the horizon. The rainbow—God's promise that the seasons will arrive again this year. His promise that life will go on.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Chatty Baby
I had the coolest thing happen last night!
For the past month or so, I've been telling my family that my 10 month old granddaughter is starting to talk. They all humored me as a biased grandma. Yesterday when I was watching her, she kept pointing at the phone and saying "call", so we called my husband. When her dad got home, I told him about it. He listened, and that was that. End of story. Or so we thought....
Last night, I was doing stuff around the house when the phone rang. It was my son, calling for my granddaughter! It seems her parents were talking about the story I'd told him. When her dad said the word "call", she started saying "Call! Call!" and pointing at the phone! They got her out of her highchair and she crawled straight to the phone, still saying, "Call! Call!" He asked her if she wanted to call Grandma, and she said, "Call...Gumma!"
So they called me and put her on the phone. I said, "Hi! It's Grandma!" She said, "Gumma?" I said "Hi!" She said "Hi!" I said "I love you" and she laughed. After a couple minutes of that, my son got on the phone and said, "What did you say to her? We knew what she was saying!"
So today, I'm one proud and happy (and vindicated) grandma! *contented sigh*
For the past month or so, I've been telling my family that my 10 month old granddaughter is starting to talk. They all humored me as a biased grandma. Yesterday when I was watching her, she kept pointing at the phone and saying "call", so we called my husband. When her dad got home, I told him about it. He listened, and that was that. End of story. Or so we thought....
Last night, I was doing stuff around the house when the phone rang. It was my son, calling for my granddaughter! It seems her parents were talking about the story I'd told him. When her dad said the word "call", she started saying "Call! Call!" and pointing at the phone! They got her out of her highchair and she crawled straight to the phone, still saying, "Call! Call!" He asked her if she wanted to call Grandma, and she said, "Call...Gumma!"
So they called me and put her on the phone. I said, "Hi! It's Grandma!" She said, "Gumma?" I said "Hi!" She said "Hi!" I said "I love you" and she laughed. After a couple minutes of that, my son got on the phone and said, "What did you say to her? We knew what she was saying!"
So today, I'm one proud and happy (and vindicated) grandma! *contented sigh*
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
The Boy and the Truck
I was in a conversation recently about dealing with hard things. One of the participants commented that, for him, it was hard to see/feel the difference between giving up on a hurtful circumstance or giving it over to God. This is what I came up with in response:
The little boy is sooo tired. His little legs have walked so far. And to make matters worse, his truck—his favorite truck—is broken! He can't push it or pull it, it won't go on its own, so he has to carry it. He's carried it all this way, and he's still not home. The truck is sooo heavy. At times, it seems bigger than he is, and he knows that it's the big reason why he's so tired.
Beside the little boy walks the Father. He sees his son is tired, he knows why, and he truly cares. Does he take the truck from the little boy? No. That is a choice the little boy must freely make.
Now the little boy has stopped. He sets the truck down in the dirt, sighs, wipes a tear, and begins to walk away. He can't carry it anymore. The Father waits and watches. The boy walks a few steps and stops, turning back. He can't give up on his precious truck! Torn, he looks back and forth, from his Father to the truck to his Father.
"Daddy, what do I do?" he wails. "My truck is broken and I'm so tired! I can't carry it!"
The Father reaches out his hand.
"Give it to me, son. Let me carry it."
The little boy stands, frozen, indecisive. What should he do? Give up on the truck and leave it in the dirt? Or give it over to his Father and let him carry it? Either way, the little boy won't have his truck anymore. Give it up, or give it over? He stands there, thinking. Which should he choose? Will it really make any difference....?
The little boy is sooo tired. His little legs have walked so far. And to make matters worse, his truck—his favorite truck—is broken! He can't push it or pull it, it won't go on its own, so he has to carry it. He's carried it all this way, and he's still not home. The truck is sooo heavy. At times, it seems bigger than he is, and he knows that it's the big reason why he's so tired.
Beside the little boy walks the Father. He sees his son is tired, he knows why, and he truly cares. Does he take the truck from the little boy? No. That is a choice the little boy must freely make.
Now the little boy has stopped. He sets the truck down in the dirt, sighs, wipes a tear, and begins to walk away. He can't carry it anymore. The Father waits and watches. The boy walks a few steps and stops, turning back. He can't give up on his precious truck! Torn, he looks back and forth, from his Father to the truck to his Father.
"Daddy, what do I do?" he wails. "My truck is broken and I'm so tired! I can't carry it!"
The Father reaches out his hand.
"Give it to me, son. Let me carry it."
The little boy stands, frozen, indecisive. What should he do? Give up on the truck and leave it in the dirt? Or give it over to his Father and let him carry it? Either way, the little boy won't have his truck anymore. Give it up, or give it over? He stands there, thinking. Which should he choose? Will it really make any difference....?
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Where's Barney?
Today I'm sharing a (gasp) forward I received. Normally, I detest the way forwards clog my inbox and my work schedule, as well as the way they broadcast my email address to everyone. This one, however, is a special one—cute, funny, and profound. (But don't take this as a request for more forwards!)
Enjoy!
-------------------------
A four-year-old was at the pediatrician's office for a check up. As the doctor looked in his ears with an otoscope, he tried to break the ice with a silly question, "Do you think I'll find Big Bird in here?"
The little guy just stared at the doctor, as only a preschooler can.
Next, the doctor took a tongue depressor and looked down his throat. Still not ready to give up, he asked, "Do you think I'll find Cookie Monster down there?"
Again, nothing but the unblinking stare.
Then the doctor put a stethoscope to the little boy's chest. As he listened to his heartbeat, he made one last attempt. "Do you think I'll hear Barney in there?"
"Noooo!", the little boy replied, clearly amazed at the doctor's ignorance. "JESUS is in my heart! Barney's on my underwear."
Enjoy!
-------------------------
A four-year-old was at the pediatrician's office for a check up. As the doctor looked in his ears with an otoscope, he tried to break the ice with a silly question, "Do you think I'll find Big Bird in here?"
The little guy just stared at the doctor, as only a preschooler can.
Next, the doctor took a tongue depressor and looked down his throat. Still not ready to give up, he asked, "Do you think I'll find Cookie Monster down there?"
Again, nothing but the unblinking stare.
Then the doctor put a stethoscope to the little boy's chest. As he listened to his heartbeat, he made one last attempt. "Do you think I'll hear Barney in there?"
"Noooo!", the little boy replied, clearly amazed at the doctor's ignorance. "JESUS is in my heart! Barney's on my underwear."
Monday, July 16, 2007
Seeing Things
The other day, I had a couple incidents of "seeing things"! Now, before you think I'm having a reaction to my meds and get all freaked out, let me explain.
First, I had a glimpse of a dream. What do I mean? Let me explain. That morning, I was "stuck" in one general area, with several hours on my hands. So, I did what I typically do.... I headed for the nearest "word source"—in this case a bookstore.
I love bookstores (and libraries)! The hush, the scent of paper and ink, the feeling that here is knowledge and insight for the finding - much like panning for gold. In this case, it was a university bookstore, so I had the added benefit of enjoying paper and ink in its as-yet-unpreserved state—the tempting assortment of blank papers and complementary pens and markers!
I wandered around, reading greeting cards, glancing at textbooks, checking how many pockets there were in the various notebooks and binders. I went on to the area reserved for general books, looking at the different categories—fiction, devotional, marriage and family. Suddenly, there it was! The section that stopped me in my tracks and made my heart skip a beat! "Local Authors"! "LOCAL AUTHORS"!
I'm sure my eyes glazed over as I fantasized about my book on that shelf. Would it be the devotional, the picture book, or the children's chapter book? (none of which are ready to send to a publisher) That was my first "episode."
----------
Then, in the afternoon, I was in my second floor office—you know, the one with all the windows looking out into the trees—when the second "episode" happened. My daughter came in to say something to me, but instead stared out the window and said, "Woah! Look at that bird!" At first, I didn't see anything, which probably made her feel like she was hallucinating!
Then I spotted it! In the fork of a tree, maybe 20 feet from the house, sat a turkey vulture! Across the yard, on the roof of the storage barn, sat another! We gasped and started yelling for my husband, running through the house, calling his name. We found him, but the birds were gone by the time we told him what we'd seen, and he thought we were joking! It took five minutes, or more, of insisting, describing, finding pictures on the internet, before we could convince him!
Why do I lump together these two incidents of "seeing things"? In both of the events, the "vision" had both a real and an unreal quality. "Seeing" my book on the Local Authors display could be considered something that could very easily be real. But, unless I do the hard work necessary to make it happen, it will remain merely a figment of my imagination. The second sighting was verifiable reality, but with an unreal, hallucinatory quality. It would take hard work on the part of my daughter and me to create belief in our hearers that birds of such "Jurassic Park" immenseness (and ugliness!) were actually in an ordinary Midwestern backyard!
There has to be a "parabolical" lesson here (see post on 9/9/05). Something about the hard work necessary to make the as-yet-unreal into reality, or to inspire others to believe in the true-but-implausible. I'm not sure exactly what the lesson is, though, or how to put it into words, so I'll just leave you with this quote:
“Vision without action is Hallucination.” —Don Clifton
First, I had a glimpse of a dream. What do I mean? Let me explain. That morning, I was "stuck" in one general area, with several hours on my hands. So, I did what I typically do.... I headed for the nearest "word source"—in this case a bookstore.
I love bookstores (and libraries)! The hush, the scent of paper and ink, the feeling that here is knowledge and insight for the finding - much like panning for gold. In this case, it was a university bookstore, so I had the added benefit of enjoying paper and ink in its as-yet-unpreserved state—the tempting assortment of blank papers and complementary pens and markers!
I wandered around, reading greeting cards, glancing at textbooks, checking how many pockets there were in the various notebooks and binders. I went on to the area reserved for general books, looking at the different categories—fiction, devotional, marriage and family. Suddenly, there it was! The section that stopped me in my tracks and made my heart skip a beat! "Local Authors"! "LOCAL AUTHORS"!
I'm sure my eyes glazed over as I fantasized about my book on that shelf. Would it be the devotional, the picture book, or the children's chapter book? (none of which are ready to send to a publisher) That was my first "episode."
----------
Then, in the afternoon, I was in my second floor office—you know, the one with all the windows looking out into the trees—when the second "episode" happened. My daughter came in to say something to me, but instead stared out the window and said, "Woah! Look at that bird!" At first, I didn't see anything, which probably made her feel like she was hallucinating!
Then I spotted it! In the fork of a tree, maybe 20 feet from the house, sat a turkey vulture! Across the yard, on the roof of the storage barn, sat another! We gasped and started yelling for my husband, running through the house, calling his name. We found him, but the birds were gone by the time we told him what we'd seen, and he thought we were joking! It took five minutes, or more, of insisting, describing, finding pictures on the internet, before we could convince him!
Why do I lump together these two incidents of "seeing things"? In both of the events, the "vision" had both a real and an unreal quality. "Seeing" my book on the Local Authors display could be considered something that could very easily be real. But, unless I do the hard work necessary to make it happen, it will remain merely a figment of my imagination. The second sighting was verifiable reality, but with an unreal, hallucinatory quality. It would take hard work on the part of my daughter and me to create belief in our hearers that birds of such "Jurassic Park" immenseness (and ugliness!) were actually in an ordinary Midwestern backyard!
There has to be a "parabolical" lesson here (see post on 9/9/05). Something about the hard work necessary to make the as-yet-unreal into reality, or to inspire others to believe in the true-but-implausible. I'm not sure exactly what the lesson is, though, or how to put it into words, so I'll just leave you with this quote:
“Vision without action is Hallucination.” —Don Clifton
Friday, June 15, 2007
Life Changing
I just got back today from a children's church camp. Whewww! As always, camp is very tiring.... Late nights will do that, but so will pouring your heart and soul into the life of others!
True to form, I went as a "tie-dye lady". Not true to form, I did almost zero tie-dying!
* Monday, I helped rescue a damsel in distress.
* Tuesday, I took care of a sick counselor.
* Wednesday, I had to be gone from camp for the day.
* Thursday, I paid the price for saying some fateful words to the camp director—"Wouldn't it be fun if....!" I suggested a "fun idea" for a camp afterglow and got put in charge of it! Oh, and took care of another sick counselor.
* Thursday night, I did some impromptu counseling. My friend, Marilyn, "set me up" with a camper who was having some interpersonal issues. She sorta figured the camper in question needed a "mom" to talk to.
Maybe I should have gone as a "camp mama"!
The highlight of the week, for me anyway, happened Wednesday night—and I wasn't even there! As I mentioned, I had to be gone from camp on Wednesday, which meant I didn't get back until the campers were heading off to their cabins for the night. The next morning on the way to breakfast, one of the campers (we'll call him "Buddy") smiled and waved at me. That wouldn't have been too unusual, except Buddy and I had had a confrontation and he tended to eye me warily, or avoid me altogether.
A while later, as I was eating breakfast with some other staff, I noticed that Buddy kept kind of hanging around. I looked closer at him—he looked DIFFERENT! I was sure I knew why! A few minutes later, my suspicions were confirmed. Buddy looked around at us, smiled, and said, "Last night I put Jesus in my heart!" I KNEW IT!!!!
I said, "I thought so, Buddy! When I first saw you this morning, I could see it in your eyes. You look different!"
Anyway....
Pray for "Buddy". I don't know a lot about his life away from camp, but I don't think it's easy. He went home today, to...whatever. He's been a "midweek kid", coming to kid's club at church, but I don't think on Sundays. He and I have an agreement, though. He's planning to come Sunday morning with the grownup friends who bring him on Wednesday. Between Sunday School and church, we're meeting at a certain place in the hall and I'm introducing him to the youth pastor. (Buddy's going into 6th grade and qualifies for the youth group.) I think Pastor Mike is someone that Buddy can really identify with.
Pray that:
* the "church kids" will accept and welcome him
* the joy of the Lord will sustain him as he transitions back home
* he will be rested and motivated enough to get up on Sunday morning
* there will be a connection between Buddy and Pastor Mike
* Buddy will grow in "wisdom, and stature, and favor with God and man"
Camp Mama (aka "Church Mama") signing off!
True to form, I went as a "tie-dye lady". Not true to form, I did almost zero tie-dying!
* Monday, I helped rescue a damsel in distress.
* Tuesday, I took care of a sick counselor.
* Wednesday, I had to be gone from camp for the day.
* Thursday, I paid the price for saying some fateful words to the camp director—"Wouldn't it be fun if....!" I suggested a "fun idea" for a camp afterglow and got put in charge of it! Oh, and took care of another sick counselor.
* Thursday night, I did some impromptu counseling. My friend, Marilyn, "set me up" with a camper who was having some interpersonal issues. She sorta figured the camper in question needed a "mom" to talk to.
Maybe I should have gone as a "camp mama"!
The highlight of the week, for me anyway, happened Wednesday night—and I wasn't even there! As I mentioned, I had to be gone from camp on Wednesday, which meant I didn't get back until the campers were heading off to their cabins for the night. The next morning on the way to breakfast, one of the campers (we'll call him "Buddy") smiled and waved at me. That wouldn't have been too unusual, except Buddy and I had had a confrontation and he tended to eye me warily, or avoid me altogether.
A while later, as I was eating breakfast with some other staff, I noticed that Buddy kept kind of hanging around. I looked closer at him—he looked DIFFERENT! I was sure I knew why! A few minutes later, my suspicions were confirmed. Buddy looked around at us, smiled, and said, "Last night I put Jesus in my heart!" I KNEW IT!!!!
I said, "I thought so, Buddy! When I first saw you this morning, I could see it in your eyes. You look different!"
Anyway....
Pray for "Buddy". I don't know a lot about his life away from camp, but I don't think it's easy. He went home today, to...whatever. He's been a "midweek kid", coming to kid's club at church, but I don't think on Sundays. He and I have an agreement, though. He's planning to come Sunday morning with the grownup friends who bring him on Wednesday. Between Sunday School and church, we're meeting at a certain place in the hall and I'm introducing him to the youth pastor. (Buddy's going into 6th grade and qualifies for the youth group.) I think Pastor Mike is someone that Buddy can really identify with.
Pray that:
* the "church kids" will accept and welcome him
* the joy of the Lord will sustain him as he transitions back home
* he will be rested and motivated enough to get up on Sunday morning
* there will be a connection between Buddy and Pastor Mike
* Buddy will grow in "wisdom, and stature, and favor with God and man"
Camp Mama (aka "Church Mama") signing off!
Friday, May 11, 2007
For those of "My Generation"....
A friend sent methis link:
If not taking yourself too seriously is good for your health, these must be some "seriously healthy" people!
If not taking yourself too seriously is good for your health, these must be some "seriously healthy" people!
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
"Home" again....
Well, I'm "home"! After soooo many months here, G.R. almost does feel like home! Once again, I'm at the library. The modern oasis! (At least for a word nerd like me!) Tomorrow, I pick up my baby sis and her babies at the airport and we're off to the Great North!
Tonight, I'm going to try to touch base with a couple friends I made during my "sojourn" here! Wish me luck in tracking them down!
Tonight, I'm going to try to touch base with a couple friends I made during my "sojourn" here! Wish me luck in tracking them down!
My Name Isn't Willie, But...
...I'm "on the road again"! I was home for two weeks, taking a much-needed break. Now I'm heading back to Mom's, with a stop in G.R. to pick up my sister and nieces. Abby's been saying, "Gramma home! Abby see?" for weeks now!
I've discovered, in all my wanderings, a new favorite rest stop. The local public library! I'm in one right now! They're clean, quiet, friendly, safe, and usually have internet access! This one has wireless, so I'm sitting in a comfy chair with my laptop on top of my lap!
However, I think I've been here long enough! Time to hit the road again! Next stop...another library?
I've discovered, in all my wanderings, a new favorite rest stop. The local public library! I'm in one right now! They're clean, quiet, friendly, safe, and usually have internet access! This one has wireless, so I'm sitting in a comfy chair with my laptop on top of my lap!
However, I think I've been here long enough! Time to hit the road again! Next stop...another library?
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Making Memories
I never realized until recently how much we count on making memories with the people we care about. Quite often lately, especially when I was at my parents' house, I have found myself planning things I'm going to do with my dad. I make a mental list of topics to discuss with him, or funny stories to tell him. I'm realizing that this is something I've done for years, but never noticed myself doing when I "had an outlet."
I didn't experience this when any of my grandparents died, and I think I've figured out why. (Which, by the way, Dad would probably have found a fascinating topic!)
Here's my theory:
My grandparents were all in the process of "old-age deterioration". We all knew it was only a matter of time for all of them, and without realizing it, began to "power down" the part of our brains that plans memory-making with the other person. Dad, on the other hand, was still going strong. At 71, he wasn't even on any of the standard "old people meds"! (cholesterol, blood pressure, arthritis, etc.) I didn't have time to break myself of the memory-planning habit. So, I've got a list of questions to ask Dad—about the house, about caring for Mom, about where an object is, or why it is where it is! And I've got a whole volume of topics for us to discuss "when he gets back"!
Now, I know that death is the permanent end to life on this earth. It's just that the sudden halt of the opportunity to talk with my dad has made the whole experience kind of surreal. The bad thing about it is that I have ongoing reminders of what I've lost. The good thing about it is the fact that I have a real sense of Dad being "just there"—of Heaven being a real place, just out of sight and out of reach, just beyond an invisible wall.
This whole experience is one I would have talked about with my dad.... And I know one day I will! Of course, by then we'll both know the event from the other side of the equation. So, for now I'll just say what I always said when we talked on the phone. "Bye, Dad! Love you! Talk to you later!"
I didn't experience this when any of my grandparents died, and I think I've figured out why. (Which, by the way, Dad would probably have found a fascinating topic!)
Here's my theory:
My grandparents were all in the process of "old-age deterioration". We all knew it was only a matter of time for all of them, and without realizing it, began to "power down" the part of our brains that plans memory-making with the other person. Dad, on the other hand, was still going strong. At 71, he wasn't even on any of the standard "old people meds"! (cholesterol, blood pressure, arthritis, etc.) I didn't have time to break myself of the memory-planning habit. So, I've got a list of questions to ask Dad—about the house, about caring for Mom, about where an object is, or why it is where it is! And I've got a whole volume of topics for us to discuss "when he gets back"!
Now, I know that death is the permanent end to life on this earth. It's just that the sudden halt of the opportunity to talk with my dad has made the whole experience kind of surreal. The bad thing about it is that I have ongoing reminders of what I've lost. The good thing about it is the fact that I have a real sense of Dad being "just there"—of Heaven being a real place, just out of sight and out of reach, just beyond an invisible wall.
This whole experience is one I would have talked about with my dad.... And I know one day I will! Of course, by then we'll both know the event from the other side of the equation. So, for now I'll just say what I always said when we talked on the phone. "Bye, Dad! Love you! Talk to you later!"
Monday, March 19, 2007
gardensong - reprise in a minor key
I stand in the garden, nibbling one of the freshly picked snow peas. Watching the last of the evening sun as it slants over the roof of the house and gilds the walnut tree in the back yard. A petunia-scented breeze ruffles my hair. What a relief after the day's heat. I curl my toes in the sandy soil, dry and crisp on the surface but still damp from the morning’s rain underneath. A quarter mile away, the neighbor’s dog is barking. The wind sighs through the pines. Behind me, I hear the faint rustle of my mother picking the beans. In my memory, I see the beloved forms of Grandma and Great-grandma, as they were then, stooping over the same garden’s rows. I consider the very real possibility that someday my grandchildren will stand where I do now, drinking in another August evening. A rush of thankfulness and contentment squeezes at my throat.
-------------------------------------------
Above is the post that started this blog on August 8, 2005, more than a year and a half ago. I'm very thankful I considered the moment valuable enough to chronicle. So much has changed since then! Now, the garden lies fallow—not just because of winter. There may be no garden this year, for the first time in decades. Mom is still recovering in the hospital from a car wreck that took my dad. I don't know if she'll have the strength (or the heart) to plant this year without him.
But the garden must go on. It has to continue for the sake of my other life-shifting change. The vague shadow I imagined when I daydreamed that "someday my grandchildren will stand where I do now" has become a reality. A little girl named Audrey graces our lives. Her mommy and daddy already are planning to teach her to love gardens and their treasures.
Soon, I'll be back at the homestead. I'll stand and stare at the sleeping garden. In my memory, I'll see the beloved forms of Grandma, Great-grandma, and Dad, stooping over the rows. By their side, I'll imagine a blue-eyed little girl, her tiny hands busily searching for the ripening crop. Seasoned with the salty tang of tears, another rush of thankfulness will squeeze my throat. The heritage of the garden will live.
-------------------------------------------
Above is the post that started this blog on August 8, 2005, more than a year and a half ago. I'm very thankful I considered the moment valuable enough to chronicle. So much has changed since then! Now, the garden lies fallow—not just because of winter. There may be no garden this year, for the first time in decades. Mom is still recovering in the hospital from a car wreck that took my dad. I don't know if she'll have the strength (or the heart) to plant this year without him.
But the garden must go on. It has to continue for the sake of my other life-shifting change. The vague shadow I imagined when I daydreamed that "someday my grandchildren will stand where I do now" has become a reality. A little girl named Audrey graces our lives. Her mommy and daddy already are planning to teach her to love gardens and their treasures.
Soon, I'll be back at the homestead. I'll stand and stare at the sleeping garden. In my memory, I'll see the beloved forms of Grandma, Great-grandma, and Dad, stooping over the rows. By their side, I'll imagine a blue-eyed little girl, her tiny hands busily searching for the ripening crop. Seasoned with the salty tang of tears, another rush of thankfulness will squeeze my throat. The heritage of the garden will live.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
A Blast From the Past
Last night, I suddenly remembered this classic poem that my dad used to read to me when I was a kid. The memory brought a flood of tears. Dad wasn't real demonstrative when I was growing up, (He got better!) but there was never any doubt what he was saying when he read this to me.
-------------------------------
The Children's Hour
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
Between the dark and the daylight,
When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day's occupations,
That is known as the Children's Hour.
I hear in the chamber above me
The patter of little feet,
The sound of a door that is opened,
And voices soft and sweet.
From my study I see in the lamplight,
Descending the broad hall stair,
Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra,
And Edith with golden hair.
A whisper, and then a silence:
Yet I know by their merry eyes
They are plotting and planning together
To take me by surprise.
A sudden rush from the stairway,
A sudden raid from the hall!
By three doors left unguarded
They enter my castle wall!
They climb up into my turret
O'er the arms and back of my chair;
If I try to escape, they surround me;
They seem to be everywhere.
They almost devour me with kisses,
Their arms about me entwine,
Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen
In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine!
Do you think, o blue-eyed banditti,
Because you have scaled the wall,
Such an old mustache as I am
Is not a match for you all!
I have you fast in my fortress,
And will not let you depart,
But put you down into the dungeon
In the round-tower of my heart.
And there will I keep you forever,
Yes, forever and a day,
Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,
And moulder in dust away!
--------------------------------
I love you too, Daddy!
-------------------------------
The Children's Hour
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
Between the dark and the daylight,
When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day's occupations,
That is known as the Children's Hour.
I hear in the chamber above me
The patter of little feet,
The sound of a door that is opened,
And voices soft and sweet.
From my study I see in the lamplight,
Descending the broad hall stair,
Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra,
And Edith with golden hair.
A whisper, and then a silence:
Yet I know by their merry eyes
They are plotting and planning together
To take me by surprise.
A sudden rush from the stairway,
A sudden raid from the hall!
By three doors left unguarded
They enter my castle wall!
They climb up into my turret
O'er the arms and back of my chair;
If I try to escape, they surround me;
They seem to be everywhere.
They almost devour me with kisses,
Their arms about me entwine,
Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen
In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine!
Do you think, o blue-eyed banditti,
Because you have scaled the wall,
Such an old mustache as I am
Is not a match for you all!
I have you fast in my fortress,
And will not let you depart,
But put you down into the dungeon
In the round-tower of my heart.
And there will I keep you forever,
Yes, forever and a day,
Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,
And moulder in dust away!
--------------------------------
I love you too, Daddy!
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Hiatus
It's getting to be too much to keep several pages going right now. If you're just here to see whatever, I'll see ya when I get back.
If you're here for news about my mom, please 1) go to www.carepages.com, 2) register, and 3) ask to see RuthReport.
Thanks for your understanding!
Marcia
If you're here for news about my mom, please 1) go to www.carepages.com, 2) register, and 3) ask to see RuthReport.
Thanks for your understanding!
Marcia
Monday, January 15, 2007
Mom's better!
Mom is doing better. She had a relatively good night, and now is having a relatively good day. She still tires easily, and they're treating her for high blood pressure and elevated heart rate, which they believe are injury-related. She is breathing easier than a couple days ago, though. Please continue to pray for NO PNEUMONIA!
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Morning Update
They found fluid on her lung last night. Nothing new so far this morning. Mom rested fairly well, once they got her with more oxygen in ICU. Once again, the doctor was amazed at her quick improvement. (We're not amazed--we know the power of prayer!) They will be using a needle sometime this morning to try to draw the fluid off her lung. PRAY AGAINST PNEUMONIA!!!
Thank you for your prayers!
Thank you for your prayers!
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Now what?
People who know about my diagnosis (young-onset Parkinson's) have been asking how I am. I'm doing pretty well. I've started keeping a small cordless alarm clock with me so I'll remember to take my meds. Most of the time, I do pretty well--it's easier now that Mom is better. Sunday was the most "out of whack" day I'd had in a long time. I think that was the day my adrenalin ran out. I try to eat right and keep up with my rest. Mom's together enough now that she checks up on me! Otherwise I seem to get a little spacey--not good when you're the Patient Advocate!
Well, the cheese is standing alone. OK, not really alone--God is with me! (And so are all of you!) But...everyone else has headed out. It's just Mom and me. (deep breath...dive in)Emotionally, I think I'm still numb a lot of the time. At least in that one area. Most of the time, it all seems very surreal. Kind of like I'm trapped inside a very sad story I was writing, and can't get out. Please pray that I will be strong for Mom when I need to, and also that I will find times and places to "let go", so I can feel and deal with my dad's death.
It's looking now like the possibilities are good that Mom will be sent to Cadillac for rehab (half an hour from her house)! If so, that will help provide a much-needed support system for her (and me)!
God is good...all the time!
Keep praying! We love you all....
Marcia for the Whittum Clan
Well, the cheese is standing alone. OK, not really alone--God is with me! (And so are all of you!) But...everyone else has headed out. It's just Mom and me. (deep breath...dive in)Emotionally, I think I'm still numb a lot of the time. At least in that one area. Most of the time, it all seems very surreal. Kind of like I'm trapped inside a very sad story I was writing, and can't get out. Please pray that I will be strong for Mom when I need to, and also that I will find times and places to "let go", so I can feel and deal with my dad's death.
It's looking now like the possibilities are good that Mom will be sent to Cadillac for rehab (half an hour from her house)! If so, that will help provide a much-needed support system for her (and me)!
God is good...all the time!
Keep praying! We love you all....
Marcia for the Whittum Clan
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
The Cheese Stands Alone
Mom had a good day yesterday. She sat up in a chair for a while. She also started a "full liquid" diet (pudding, juice, soup, etc.) and was evaluated by Physical Therapy. She's had one busy, tiring day! We were able to talk with her, too, about practical things like insurance and bills, and how we want her to concentrate on healing while we handle those things.
The changing of the guard continues my sisters and their families are gradually leaving. The last one will be gone in a day or two. After that, "the cheese stands alone" (that would be me). We have no real indication yet how long a road we're traveling. Mom's already showing a willingness to work hard at therapy, but she has soooo much ground to regain! Well, I guess now is the time to repay all the years of love and care she gave me!
So far, she's having a good day today. They're talking about taking out her feeding IV, changing her pain meds to pills, starting therapy, and moving her to another room!
She is causing amazement in the doctors who, based on how she looked on arrival, never expected her to look this good, this fast! I keep mentioning all the prayers that have been going up for her. So far, no doctor has felt the need to argue about the power of prayer!
Please continue to pray for her emotions, as well. I think today we may try to watch the video of the funeral. That could be helpful or painful (probably both).
Your prayers are making a difference...Keep up the good work!
The changing of the guard continues my sisters and their families are gradually leaving. The last one will be gone in a day or two. After that, "the cheese stands alone" (that would be me). We have no real indication yet how long a road we're traveling. Mom's already showing a willingness to work hard at therapy, but she has soooo much ground to regain! Well, I guess now is the time to repay all the years of love and care she gave me!
So far, she's having a good day today. They're talking about taking out her feeding IV, changing her pain meds to pills, starting therapy, and moving her to another room!
She is causing amazement in the doctors who, based on how she looked on arrival, never expected her to look this good, this fast! I keep mentioning all the prayers that have been going up for her. So far, no doctor has felt the need to argue about the power of prayer!
Please continue to pray for her emotions, as well. I think today we may try to watch the video of the funeral. That could be helpful or painful (probably both).
Your prayers are making a difference...Keep up the good work!
Monday, January 08, 2007
Back "Home"
I'm back at the hospital--got here last night. And let me tell you, it's sooooooo good to hear my mom's voice. We'll be having a "changing of the guard" in the next couple days, as my siblings begin to head home and I take over the role of staying with Mom to help her and report back to the others.
Mom continues to progress! They took her nasal feeding tube out yesterday and started giving her water and ice chips. Today they're talking about advancing her diet and getting her up in a chair!
At her church yesterday, the pastor preached from Revelation on the topic of heaven. What a blessing! Please continue to pray for the seeds of the Gospel that have been planted, that they will bring a harvest. We are aware of at least one person who expressed that if this is what believers have, maybe he should check into it!
Pray too, that along with the physical healing, the emotional healing will continue--including that she won't worry about responsibilities she's not physically ready to resume yet.
Thanks again, everyone for all your prayers! We have really seen and felt how they have moved the hand of God, as He has held us up this past week. Keep up the good work!
Mom continues to progress! They took her nasal feeding tube out yesterday and started giving her water and ice chips. Today they're talking about advancing her diet and getting her up in a chair!
At her church yesterday, the pastor preached from Revelation on the topic of heaven. What a blessing! Please continue to pray for the seeds of the Gospel that have been planted, that they will bring a harvest. We are aware of at least one person who expressed that if this is what believers have, maybe he should check into it!
Pray too, that along with the physical healing, the emotional healing will continue--including that she won't worry about responsibilities she's not physically ready to resume yet.
Thanks again, everyone for all your prayers! We have really seen and felt how they have moved the hand of God, as He has held us up this past week. Keep up the good work!
Sunday, January 07, 2007
How's Mom?
Thanks everybody for your prayers! We had the service for my Dad yesterday. As part of the service, we had the pastor present the plan of salvation--Dad would have wanted it that way. He was a quiet guy, but with a lot of influence. I think the church holds about 200 and it was packed! With overflow chairs in the foyer! And notes and emails from people saying they wished they could be there! The funeral director knew him and summed it up when he said, "He was a quiet guy, but you always knew where he stood." Mom wasn't able to go, but understood that the grandkids especially needed closure.
She is doing better, baby step by baby step. They successfully weaned her off the ventilator yesterday, so she's breathing on her own! Please continue to pray for her though--she has a long road ahead of her physically and emotionally. I was with her one morning when she woke up. You know how you can forget something important while you're asleep and remember it an instant after you wake? Well, I was looking at Mom's face that moment and saw the instant she remembered about Dad. It broke my heart.
I'd better close for now...I want to get to church this morning. No better place to be when you're hurting than in the arms of God's family! I love you all! Thanks for praying--keep up the good work!
She is doing better, baby step by baby step. They successfully weaned her off the ventilator yesterday, so she's breathing on her own! Please continue to pray for her though--she has a long road ahead of her physically and emotionally. I was with her one morning when she woke up. You know how you can forget something important while you're asleep and remember it an instant after you wake? Well, I was looking at Mom's face that moment and saw the instant she remembered about Dad. It broke my heart.
I'd better close for now...I want to get to church this morning. No better place to be when you're hurting than in the arms of God's family! I love you all! Thanks for praying--keep up the good work!
Friday, January 05, 2007
Breathe....
New prayer request....
They're talking about weaning Mom off her ventilator today. There is concern, though, that with NINE fractured ribs, she'll have too much pain to properly inflate her left lung. (That would mean more medical intervention.) Please pray that the weaning process goes well and that she's able to breathe properly on her own.
They're talking about weaning Mom off her ventilator today. There is concern, though, that with NINE fractured ribs, she'll have too much pain to properly inflate her left lung. (That would mean more medical intervention.) Please pray that the weaning process goes well and that she's able to breathe properly on her own.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
UPDATE ON MOM
Doreen was able to tell Mom about Dad early this morning. She was awake and alert and wanting to communicate. When Doreen told her, her response was to mouth "Corwin's in heaven." (She still can't talk because of the ventilator tube.)
She had surgery this morning to repair her fractured elbow, and came through with flying colors. Doreen spent the day with her while Julia and I went to Tustin to make the arrangements for Dad. (We had to pass the corner where it happened--tough!)
We brought back their CD player and some CDs of hymns, which are playing in her room now. Anyone who knows Mom will realize how much that is helping her!
Mom is totally off the sedatives now...still a lot of pain meds though. We believe that the elbow repair is the last surgery. Now the focus can, we hope, begin to be on healing.
Thanks for your prayers...keep up the good work!
She had surgery this morning to repair her fractured elbow, and came through with flying colors. Doreen spent the day with her while Julia and I went to Tustin to make the arrangements for Dad. (We had to pass the corner where it happened--tough!)
We brought back their CD player and some CDs of hymns, which are playing in her room now. Anyone who knows Mom will realize how much that is helping her!
Mom is totally off the sedatives now...still a lot of pain meds though. We believe that the elbow repair is the last surgery. Now the focus can, we hope, begin to be on healing.
Thanks for your prayers...keep up the good work!
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Family Info
Viewing and funeral info for Dad:
Viewing Friday, 6 - 8pm, Dighton Wesleyan Church
Viewing Saturday, 11am - 1pm, Dighton Wesleyan Church
Funeral Saturday, 1pm, Dighton Wesleyan Church
----------------
Please pray.... Unless we're told NOT to by the doctor, we're planning on breaking the news to Mom tomorrow morning. Now that Doreen's here, we think she suspects something anyway.
Thanks, Marcia
Viewing Friday, 6 - 8pm, Dighton Wesleyan Church
Viewing Saturday, 11am - 1pm, Dighton Wesleyan Church
Funeral Saturday, 1pm, Dighton Wesleyan Church
----------------
Please pray.... Unless we're told NOT to by the doctor, we're planning on breaking the news to Mom tomorrow morning. Now that Doreen's here, we think she suspects something anyway.
Thanks, Marcia
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