God in my Garden

One of our goals this year was to grow some of our own food. To that end, my dear husband put in the loveliest raised bed garden a city girl could ask for. Two 4 by 8 foot raised beds, about 18 inches deep, stained lumber and complete with a custom irrigation system. I knew he couldn't do this in a small way. I seriously doubt we will be saving any money or even breaking even this growing season. That might be sad except this garden undertaking is about a lot more than tomatoes and beans.

 



Another goal, one I am reflecting on more and more lately, is to really get a grip on the idea of rest. Not sleep, I get that, but rest, relaxation and refueling. I hope gardening, whether my raised bed vegetable garden or the many pots of herbs and flowers gradually taking over our patio, will lend a hand in that arena.

This past weekend I had my first real visit to the garden since we planted. I needed to do something called "cultivating". This was a word I had heard and used in recent years. It is a biblical term as well as an agricultural one. I had heard it in homeschooling circles when referring to what we hoped to bring attention to and value in our children's educations and upbringing. We hoped to cultivate a love for certain things, skills in others and character qualities that honor God. Cultivating faithfulness comes to mind.

As I cultivated my garden, I just couldn't help but see my new plants with little faces, and hands, feet firmly planted in the soil. I spread some nasty smelling, albeit organic plant food all around the plants. I used a shiny new tool, a menacing claw like contraption, to break up and turn over the hard soil. I could almost hear the protests of the little seedlings, hands flailing in the air..."Hey, what's up with this...we were just fine, enjoying our day and now the ground is shaking, dirt is falling all over us, this is noisy and frightening and WHAT is that smell!?" I know I would be protesting similarly...and then it hit me. I do protest similarly when the ground beneath me shakes and feels crumbly, when the dirt is flying, noise swirls around and stinky stuff gets a little too close. I did not see, until this gardening chore became mine, the true value of such cultivation. By breaking up the soil, I made it easier for these new, tender plants to put down deep, strong roots. Allowing air and water to get where it needs to go rather than just running off will encourage growth as well. The smelly, rich fertilizer, mixed thoroughly into the soil, will make for more and better fruit down the road. How like life this is. Cultivating faithfulness or any other precious virtue may, at least for the short term, seem more like torture than training.

One more chore I got to practice for the first time was thinning. I didn't like this chore so much. The idea of removing some of the little sprouts to make room for things like carrots and beets to spread out and grow was kind of sad. The lesson I'm taking from that? Sometimes we may need to spread out a little, not be quite so close to those around us to cultivate some things we might not otherwise. I'm thinking about this a lot lately. I hope it's a lesson confined to beets and carrots.

All things new...

It's been awhile. That's not the new part, sorry. I just get caught up in life, some of it is just sad and I don't want to blog about it. Other parts are great but I'm too busy enjoying them to stop and blog. I do get random requests, though, to get back to writing, so here goes...random thoughts seem the best way to catch up. I have some topical posts gestating quietly...for later.

-I still have no desire to do another marathon of any kind...I do, however, miss the exercise and time with a certain training buddy. We might just have to get back to that part.

-The grand babies are growing up so fast. I love doing things like picking strawberries, playing with the water table with them and remembering when my babies were that age. Every week brings something new and exciting.

-We have a new granddaughter, Hannah Kate! She is adorable and reminds me so of her sweet mommy!

- I love this Gigi thing!

-Some people are mean, or difficult or even impossible. No, that isn't news, really, but that I am still surprised and sad and think I can make things better, well, that's a little new. I am learning that lots of things are just outside of my control and I just can't do it all. A new and special person in my life went to great lengths to explain that to me last weekend. I take enormous comfort in the fact that God is big.

-I have a new job. My other job came to an end when the company owners decided to shut down the business. God gave me a wonderful job in a really short time frame. I appreciate that because job hunting is hard work and maybe even a little intimidating.

-I really like my new job. I am learning so much every day. That might even be more intimidating than the job hunt was. I get to work in a health care setting (and I even get to wear scrubs!) and that was my dream all along. My hours are a lot longer and I don't get to slow down much but I really feel good about how I spent my day when I clock out.

-I love wearing scrubs to work! I might be a little obsessed and need to reevaluate my scrubs budget. I may or may not buy a new set nearly every pay day. And I iron them, something I'm told is silly.

-Some days it is all I can do to stay awake until bedtime! It is that exhausting. I spend most of Saturdays cleaning, grocery shopping, getting our clothes ready for the week. I have not quite mastered the art of rest, not just sleep, but rest and refreshment and rejuvenation. I am working on it.

-My girls strapped on their babies and totally cleaned my house for Easter weekend guests. I can't think of how they could have blessed me more. Then we were able to just sit and enjoy one another's company for a couple of hours.

-My wonderful husband has been such a help as he is off on several of my workdays. He tries to prepare dinner sometimes, he keeps the house clean, does some laundry and takes care of all those tasks I can't really do since I am gone all day. He gets the dog groomed, meets the carpet cleaning people, gets the oil changed and pretty much anything else I ask him. He's my rock star!

-He put in a wonderful garden for me, and wrought iron fencing around our patio so the babies won't fall off. What fun we are having outside!

-It is an adjustment being gone this much. I miss my kids and my grand babies. I am working hard to find times to be with them, at least the ones who are interested. Sometimes I just call or text and ask to meet them somewhere. Even an hour is precious.

-I love "talking shop" with my oldest who is also in health care, miles above me, and has been praying for me to have a job like this for years. He is so encouraging and gives great advice.

-I love that hubby and I are working together toward goals that will make later better and working hard to enjoy the now while we do it.

-We are leading a new Young Married small group. Have I mentioned how we love young married couples? Oldest daughter and her beloved are a part of our group. Another sweet blessing.

-Our baby boy is getting married in July. I am helping to plan the wedding. Some days that is lots of fun, others I wonder what I was thinking when I agreed to this. I had a different life then, a different job. They are a fun couple, we love his intended and it will be a beautiful and very unique day. I have mixed feelings about marking that off my list. Where have the years gone.?

-I began to get impatient the other day, maybe in traffic, or a line at the grocery store. Then it occurred to me that I am just simply too old for that. By my age I should have mastered patience just a little bit better than my attitude revealed. Now I say that to myself on a regular basis. "Girl, you are too old to be impatient!" The voice in my head sounds a lot like my mother's.

-I was encouraging my sweet daughters recently. I was urging them not to get in too much of a hurry to get to the next stage of their lives but to be "all in" whatever they were doing at the moment. They are already so good about that, but these days are so precious and fleeting and before they know it their babies will be ready for school, or driving or dating or college or...then it hit me, I need to be "all in" at 53! I need to be completely given to whatever I am doing or whoever I am with, not always thinking ahead to the next thing, or the weekend or next month. I want to be completely engaged and present with my husband, my children, my co-workers or our patients. I want to give my best, my all to whatever I am doing.

-We were shocked and saddened to lose two family members in the last three months or so. One of Bill's brothers died suddenly followed by a sister-in-law. They were both way too young. It is sobering. We are reminded that none of knows when our life here will end. We are being purposeful, even more than we had been, to make each day count, as if it were the last. We are taking steps to be as prepared for our transitions to Heaven as we can.  We are being more careful to hug a little longer, each of our precious loved ones; to remember to say the things we want them to hear. We are also being as diligent as we possibly can to monitor our health, to listen to and observe our bodies, these Earth suits, so that we don't leave before we should. I want to see my grand children's children...and be there for them.

-Someone I love,  more than anyone else, was diagnosed with a wee little health concern. Consequently we have made some dietary changes. We were eating pretty well before but need to be even more diligent. We are learning to enjoy Mediterranean food, which includes Greek cuisine. I like this change. We are never too old to learn new things and appreciate different cultural expressions.It's fun to find new restaurants and learn to cook in different ways. I hope it helps. He's losing weight rapidly. Me? Not so much!

-We have the distinct honor and pleasure of hosting visiting dignitaries in two weeks. A family friend of our son-in -law, Colonel of the Army in a certain faraway country, will be visiting with his wife and staying with us. I'm a little bit concerned about meeting their needs and showing them a real Texas sized good time but we will all work together to do our bests. Maybe a great post will come of that.

-Housework, laundry, ironing and cooking still don't get done all by themselves.

Half Marathon Random Thoughts (or, the one where I admit being stupid.)

Today I "did" a half marathon, that is 13.1 miles. I can't say "ran" as I only did that for about 100 feet. The rest was merely a controlled fall or just a clumsy slog. It was quite the experience, however, and writing about it in narrative form escapes me at the moment so I think another 'random thoughts' post is in order.


-Always, always be sure to see a map of the route for a half marathon (or a whole one, for that matter) BEFORE signing up. In fact, it might be smart to actually go check out the route before race day. I failed on this point and boy am I sorry now.

-There is a huge difference between a "flat half" and a full on "trail run." Ask me how I know!

-I have now used a "Porto Potty" and consumed blue Gatorade...two things I promised myself I would never, ever do.

-CLIF bars are awesome and they made a huge difference in how I was able to perform - or not die, depending on one's perspective.

-I may have suffered some sort of brain damage in this event as I could not seem to make my body do what my brain was commanding. I also may or may not have seen mushrooms that looked exactly like the ones from Super Mario Brothers and quite possibly had an out of body experience.

-I have the sense of humor of a nine year old BOY! Shoes being swallowed by icky, sticky mud, followed by the distinctly "toot-like" sound that results from freeing them caused more than a few uncontrollable bouts of laughter.

-I might have said "Jesus!" and meant it several times during this trial (or trail.) I am certain my companion did.

-I fell...in slow motion...and we died laughing.

-My new shoes are completely covered in mud. I'm not too upset about that.

-All of me hurts. Maybe even my hair.

-My precious husband pulled off the greatest surprise and was waiting for me at the finish line. He rooted me on all through training, which ate up lots of hours and he is my biggest cheerleader. I hope to return the favor someday.

-My toenails (in all of their glittery fall orange glory) are all still in their designated places and I have no blisters! These concerns caused me to lose sleep. I'm just sayin'

-I imagined I looked pretty fit and cute rocking out my running clothes and neato cool race number. Then I saw photos...I looked like Jabba the Hut in stretchy pants...with lots of mud! None will be posted upon threat of death! (OK, maybe just our feet.)

-My companion, also known as my oldest daughter, Bethany, sang lovely, made up songs about how we were so gonna do this thing the entire last two miles! She is my hero. I also considered throwing in the towel at about mile marker 11 only to realize I would still have to walk back to my car which was parked just beyond the finish line! Duh! I did not quit.

-I learned that no matter how hard you train, how prepared you are and how much you want to do something, rain followed by mud, interspersed with fallen trees, rocks, both large and small, cacti, bow hunters, snakes, cliffs and more mud, cannot ensure a quick and simple event. Life is like that, too.

-Some people find such endeavors addictive. I am not one of them. This is it! I never need to do another race of any type, ever.

-I might relax my "no bumper sticker" rule and sport a new 13.1 window cling at least...seeing as how I earned it.

-I did this to prove to myself that I could and to mark a significant anniversary of another hard thing. That my husband and children are proud of me is a really sweet added bonus.

-I came in dead last and I don't even care. I finished before the cut off time and that was my goal.

Random Thoughts

I have it on good authority that some people appreciate and even enjoy posts of this type. This is my first attempt. We'll see.

-My boss says I "internalize" things. I work in customer service. I'm not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing. Would "externalizing" be a preferred approach? I think I might try that this week. I'll report back.

-I have heard two sermons (back to back, by two separate pastors) and read two separate books that referred to the "parable of the talents," all within the last month. I am beginning to think God might be saying something to me. I am thinking a lot about my life. How many "talents" have I received? What have I done with them? What will God say on the big day?

-I absolutely love fall. I do not, however, love man food. For the uninitiated, man food is stuff like chili, beef stew, hot wings, bratwurst, you know, meaty, greasy, heavy...well, man food. I am, however, surrounded by men as I have been blessed with four sons, two sons-in-law and one really terrific husband. They love man food. I love them. 'Nuf said.

-I have discovered Pinterest. I may be in trouble.

-I think about my Mama every day. I still miss her so much more than I ever imagined I would or could. Many days my thoughts of her bring a smile. Other days, not so much.

-On a related note...we all love reminiscing about the funny things my Mama used to say. I recall her mentioning a "wild hare" which I understood to be a wild HAIR. I pointed out the one I came to love that grew from her chin. She was not amused.

-On a still related but slightly different note...I regret giggling at the bearded and mustached lunch ladies I encountered in school cafeterias. I regret it and I repent. Because what goes around comes around, judge not lest ye be judged or Karma is a b****. Whatever your persuasion or belief system, never laugh at something you don't want to come home to roost. Consider yourself warned. That's all I'm gonna say about that.

-I taught nearly all of my kids to drive. I taught some of them to drive in a Ford E350 15 passenger van. They can drive anything. It is one of my prouder accomplishments.

-I have been training for about 10 weeks for a half marathon I plan to undertake on Saturday. I saw what I think is the route. I think I might be scared now. I wonder why I thought this was a good idea.

-I hate being accosted by the people hawking their wares from the kiosks at the mall. I really hate it.

-I grew up very poor. Our first years decades of marriage were also pretty lean. Two things will always mark affluence to me because they were the first to go when the money was tight on grocery day. They are fabric softener and Ziploc bags. I am thrilled to have both in my possession at the moment. I never stop thanking God for His blessings to us. Especially little things like zippie bags and soft clothes. I hope I never do.

-While I do not love man food and I really don't care for football, there is just nothing like the comforting drone of football on the TV on a lazy Sunday afternoon. My hubby lounges on the couch in his church clothes (minus the dress shirt, since he just ate chili.) It just means fall, and life is good.

Like water...

Some things are just better than others. We don't live in a world that acknowledges that consistantly. Sure we elevate lots of silly things to the "best" category. Electronic devices, movies, songs, singers, actors, cars, athletes...you name it. But principles or concepts? Anything goes there. Whatever floats your boat or works for you and yours, that's the best. We are to be tolerant and open minded and avoid assigning any particular value to life choices. I have thought a lot about this over the last couple of days. Maybe it's the political climate swirling around. Maybe it's something else entirely. This is what I think. If I love stuff, money, what others think of me and give my life to obtaining that over, say, what God thinks of me and cultivating contentment and a deep abiding relationship with Him, then that isn't good. Even if I say it is. If I put myself first and overlook, neglect or assign a lower place to the needs of those around me, whether they are mine or not, then that isn't good. Even if I say it is. If I use my time as I wish without thinking of the eternal significance of that time and say that is good, it doesn't make it so. If I use people to get what I want, accolades, financial gain, power or even vacations, that's not good. Even if I think it is. What in my life do I think is good that God says is not? Have I spent my days on things that really are the best, that matter, the eternal things, or should I have chosen another path?

One time several years ago I was asking some of these same questions and a sweet friend looked across the lunch table at me with tears welling in her eyes. She reminded me that I chose the life I was living and that it was a hard choice. Then, right there in Macaroni Grill, she picked up my water glass and poured it out on the table! Every.last.drop! She reminded me that my life was best spent "Like water spilled on the ground, which cannot be recovered...(2 Sam14:14) and that I was doing that every day, as unto the LORD. Most days I feel that way

                    but

                                    not

                                                        this

                                                                               day.....on      this       
                                                                                                                   day.... 

                                                                                                                               I

                                                                                                                     wonder if I

                                                                                                                             should

                                                                                                                                    have

                                                                                                                                    been an

                                                                                                                                          astronaut.

Slow Down

A loving reminder...

Let me linger for a moment

while you sleep upon my shoulder,

for it won't be many days

until I find that you are older,

and I'll have to run to catch you

just to hold you on my lap.

What a rich and fleeting pleasure

just to hold you as you nap.

For Jeremy, with love, from Mama

1991

How precious are those days, all of them, so don't be in a hurry. They are memories before you know it. Just remember to breathe it all in. Laundry, dusting, meals, washing dishes...all important, but nothing compares to lovin' those babies.

Inspiration

After a somewhat heavy post, I thought something bit lighter might be in order...even if it means two blogs in one day.

I have so enjoyed my smaller home and taking the time to decorate it the way we prefer. Taking the time means many things. Sometimes I don't have the funds or the time in my schedule to do what I want and other times I just don't know quite what should go in a particular spot or where to find it. The biggest wall in our living room was like that and I really pressed the hubs to wait with me until we knew what to do. I have done plenty of hasty decorating with less than perfect results. Not this time. I really needed some inspiration. He waited and then did lots of work to make it happen and I thought I might show how it turned out.

This was my jumping off point...

Thanks to Pottery Barn, I finally knew what I wanted to do with my big, square, blank wall. I didn't want to copy their design but I liked the mix of frames, some with art, others with photos along with the large, wooden initial and other art. I also appreciated the treatment of the table in front of the wall with the branches in the jar, the tray and other items to break up the flat, linear aspect of the wall. Problem was, the blue just didn't work with our color scheme and I absolutely HATE to paint. Mr. Brown took care of that.

He meticulously painted the wall a lovely green. He's really good at painting. I was blessed to receive a number of priceless and precious family photos from my uncles when they came to celebrate my Mama's homegoing. My sweet mother-in-law contributed some from her collection as well.  I selected and repainted frames for as many as possible and our project began. Did I mention that I hate to paint?

A certain artful daughter created this modern rendetion of a family tree at my request.

Then we carefully cut paper patterns for each piece to make selecting their location on the wall that much easier. While time consuming, it sure made repositioning and then hanging the actual frames, gears, and art that much easier in the end. And...fewer holes in the wall.

Here is the nearly finished work in progress. The gears were a special gift from oldest boy. The large empty frame held a prominent place at both daughters' weddings and now contains photos of their beautiful grandmothers...the small empty space now sports a pin-up photo of Nonnie Jean! While scandelous at the time it is quite tame by today's standards. She could really rock a bathing suit!

If you look closely you will see my wedding photo from the Austin American-Statesman, circa 1977, wedding photos of my children, parents and grandparents, my handsome Airman at about 18 and my sweet second son dancing with me at his wedding. I will continue to add and rearrange as our family grows but this is a great start, don't you think? I believe I might have been inspired.

If I had it to do again...

At this stage in life, thoughts often turn to times past and how we might handle them differently. I find that to be especially true as my nest continues to empty, grandchildren come on the scene and we celebrate another anniversary. Adding grandchildren (which will be covered in all of it's deliciousness in a future post) has elicited a few questions regarding my mothering choices. Not the least of which was "What would you do differently?" Honestly, besides a couple of  minor but poorly executed disciplinary episodes, I only have two real regrets from my now 31 years of motherhood.

I regret that I did not require consistantly that my children take on chores. Oh, they were required to help out but I had way too many failed attempts at chore charts, rewards, penalties, allowance, etc. We tried it all. I tried, I really did, but it just took longer and caused way more angst to require such things from my six offspring as laundry, dishes, cleaning bathrooms and other chores. The result of my many creative attempts was usually smelly laundry left in the washer for days (I had to move it to do mine!), dishes that never got done (was I going to let them pile up all day until the offending slacker got home from school?) beds that didn't get made (I may still be the only member of this great family that makes her bed every single day!) Bathrooms, it seemed, were my job for many years because we just didn't have the kid friendly cleaning products that are on the market today. I also really hated that kids could manage to get any product containing bleach on everything within a twenty foot radius. This included bath rugs, nice towels, shower curtains, their own clothes and even carpeting nowhere near the bathroom they were expected to clean. After a while, I decided it was indeed easier to just do it myself. Once they got older, I did require a certain level of cleanliness in their own rooms and even the bathrooms became their responsibility. This, only after decades of doing most of it myself. I worried that none of my kids would go forth into adulthood knowing how to take care of their living space or do their laundry. They have all proven me wrong, for the most part. They wear clean clothes, keep nice homes and seem to know how to keep bleach where it belongs. The regret is really that I just did too much and obsessed over things I probably should not have. I consider this a minor regret but if I had it to do over, I would keep at it, especially now that we have "Method" type cleaners. I have also shared this with my children who have asked and hopefully they will succeed where I did not.

My only other regret is more serious and still causes me much sadness. My hubby and I tried really hard to spend individual time with each of our children as they grew up and avoided the "mob" mentality often present in large families. He had dedicated times with our boys (lunches or fishing, or trips to guitar lessons, basketball or football practice, or some other regularly occuring event.) While I also spent time with the boys and he with the girls, my time with our daughters was a concentrated effort to initiate discipleship and develop a closeness as they grew into teens. At about 9 or 10 years old I started with a great study with each girl called "Growing Little Women." I still have these workbooks we went through together. It was a study designed to examine issues of integrity, peer pressure, purity, calling and roles and repsonsibilitites of young women. I loved doing this with my girls. At the end of the study I presented each one with a James Avery charm to add to their charm bracelets to commemorate the event. After the study was over, I continued to meet with our oldest throughout highschool, her wait for God's direction in her life, the long period of endurance before her beloved arrived in the US and their marriage. Even after that, since our hubbies both worked on Saturdays, we continued. It really just stopped being a regular part of our week in the last six months or so since they were blessed with a job rarely requiring Saturdays. It was a truly wonderful part of her growing up, for both of us. We didn't always do a formal study after the first one. We just chatted about whatever was important or even urgent at the time. I shared my life with her, memories from my young married/motherhood days and my own spiritual struggles. We laughed, we cried, we prayed with and for one another. We ate tons and tons of bagels!!!! That is most certainly not a regret. What is, though, is that my other daughter didn't want to continue. I don't think it was for any reason other than she just really wanted to go hang out with her friends. I didn't think it was a good idea to force her to spend time with me and besides that, I had five other children, homeschooling and a home to manage! Forcing her to meet with me seemed silly and I couldn't imagine it would be very productive. We talked now and then and I made a few attempts at a regular time together that didn't end well so I just gave up. I was homeschooling her, after all, wouldn't that be enough. The short answer? NO! Now, having the benefit of many more mommy years under my belt and seeing also how the story ended up, I would totally handle that differently. I would, even though it seemed ill-advised then, require her to spend a couple of hours alone with me each week. I would have endured the sulking and the rejection. I would, because now she (and I) really wish we had the closeness that concentrated time can foster. I would, because it would have been better for her and for me. I didn't let her decide other important parts of her growing up that I believed were in her best interest. For some reason, I saw this as different.  I would, because it is God's model for discipleship, for both parties. She would have become a more confident person, more assured of her position in Christ and more ready to face her future. I would have learned a perseverance that has been harder learned now. We would have dealt with some things that came home to roost just as she reached adulthood and moved into marriage. She recently moved a few hours away and it will be even harder for us to grow our relationship. I am determined to do it, but how much easier it would be had I pressed harder to spend close, concentrated time with her. I have shared this sad regret with the few that care. I have shared it with her. I hope that she will remember it should she be blessed with a similarly resistant daughter and work harder to foster a deep, close and lasting relationship. I love her to bits, and am so thankful that God can fix our boo-boos, build better relationships and soften the pain of regret.

My New Job

Someone I love and trust and who knows about such things counselled me that the two most important things about one's job is feeling they are making a difference and that the people they work with and for care about them. I am so glad to now know that firsthand. I was very blessed to be offered a great job back in August and now that I have been there for six weeks, long enough for the honeymoon phase to wear off a little bit, I think I am ready to declare it a total win. While my work is most certainly not rocket science it is important enough that I am reminded regularly that I am appreciated. I am doing things in a slightly different setting than the last thirty something years but many aspects of my work are familiar. I get to find and solve problems and use skills I acquired during my years of full-time mothering in the areas of organization, conflict resolution, efficiency and cost savings. Some things are just pretty much the same no matter the setting. Also not unlike my years at home, I am surrounded by really wonderful people. I have the remarkable distinction of working for one of my sons' peers! Yes, my boss is someone I have known for 17 years, since he was in fifth grade with my second son. I have watched him grow up, go off to college, marry his sweetheart and embark on parenthood. He is smart, kind and very good at what he does and it doesn't hurt even a little bit that he loves God. Imagine sitting at lunch in a restaurant, across the table from your boss as he prays a blessing over the food or working nearby while he taps his pen and sings along with the Jesus music playing in the background. These are not qualities designed for show. He really is that guy. So is his Dad who co-owns the business. I thank God every day that in this loooonnnnggg journey He did not give me what I thought I wanted. This was the job for me. I am glad to go to work every day. I feel a real sense of belonging and accomplishment, maybe even that I make a difference, and that I am valued and cared for.

While I do enjoy going to work, there is the downside of seeing less of my husband and kids. As it happens, Mr. B has found ways to stay busy in my absence and even makes dinner now and then. I determined when I went back to work that I did not intend to drop any of the things I do for my family...hopefully I am doing pretty well. Hubby cooks because he wants to, not because I expect it. Only once or twice has he had to tell me he was out of socks or work shirts. I've had to change up my schedule a little bit but meals are getting cooked, laundry done and the house looks nice most of the time. Dating is still a priority as well. I checked with the remaining offspring living in my home and he assures me he is fine with me being gone as much as I am. No one in my family liked that I used to spend most days alone with not nearly enough to do. He knows where to find me, as does hubby and all the other kids who live nearby, and my work is flexible enough to allow for visits, texts, phone calls, etc. Didn't I say it was great?

This job has also afforded me a car and that makes hanging out with kids and friends a little bit easier. The money isn't bad, either. It's sweet that my honey likes to pack me a lunch for a change, something I've been doing for him for literally decades as well as serve me breakfast on his days off. And he seems to really likes to hear all my work stories. I'm pretty tired when I get home on some days but all in all this has been a wonderful transition. I love it when a plan comes together, especially when it was His plan.

Nine Years

I started to write this blog post two days ago, on September 29. Pretty soon it will become clear why I chose not to.

I'm one of those people who remembers where they were on significant days...I even remember what I was wearing and maybe what we had for dinner. Recently most of us recalled where we were and what we were doing on September 11, 2001. Others have vivid memories of natural disasters like earthquakes, tsunamis or fires. Some recall all too clearly the loss of a loved one. I have recollections of days not nearly as impactful as that.

Nine years ago, on September 29, 2002, we had just enjoyed a great lunch with our whole growing up family. I had a Caesar Salad with Grilled chicken and our waiter's name was Rex. I might even have bribed our college boys with such an outing if they came and heard their Daddy preach a really awesome sermon. I may or may not have done that before the date in question and even since. This day's particular sermon would turn out to be very apropos, we just didn't know how much. The sermon compared discipleship with military service, two areas of life in which my husband has accumulated quite a bit of experience. He made observations that often such service and commitment can be frightening and contain assignments we may find daunting. Nevertheless, we should press on, trusting God for the grace and strength to carry out each "mission."

After our great lunch we settled in for a rare Sunday afternoon nap and were soon interrupted by a call from oldest boy. He was in pain, probably a sports injury or the result of some stunt. Turned out he had been for several weeks, he just wouldn't come home from college to see the doctor. We told him to meet us at the nearby ER since we had good insurance and an X-ray should uncover the problem and get him back to school shortly. No need to wait for Monday and miss classes. We jumped in the car and expected to be home quickly. Since the boy in question was now a man, Dad went back to the exam area with him this time. Imagine my surprise when midnight came and went and I sat alone in the cold ER waiting room. I was reading with shock a Newsweek article about an uninsured college student diagnosed with cancer. I remember remarking to myself how glad I was we had good insurance on our college boys. I also remember noting that the nail polish on my left big toe was chipped, that my shorts were a bit too short for a woman in her early forties and that the hem was trying to come out of my navy blue T-shirt. It was then that the big doors opened and a doctor and my sweet hubby beckoned me to join them. I choked down worry....I entered the exam room to find college boy clearly enjoying some pain meds and a video game while standing in his sock feet wearing a hospital gown. Then I heard that ugly, ugly word, Lymphoma. The earth trembled, the walls closed in and suddenly I couldn't hear anything. I tried hard not to cry or be sick. I didn't want to frighten Nintendo boy. The next couple of weeks were a blur filled with many, many doctor's appointments, surgical procedures and treatment plans. The journey, the "mission" lasted a long seven months of chemotherapy, radiation and several hospital trips and now that wonderful boy is a great man, healthy and serving faithfully in Hospital Administration. It was very hard. We were sustained throughout by other "soldiers" and our able Commander and we are all different, in great ways, for having participated. Sadly, every September 29 for the years since that fateful day, I have felt those tremors, aftershocks if you will, recalling the sights, sounds, smells, and my chipped nail polish and too short shorts! Some years it was harder than others. Sometimes hubby would mark the day with a card, flowers or some time alone to reflect. A faithful friend who was there all the way would sometimes call or send an e-mail. There have been a couple of scares along the way, fearing cancer had returned. This year, however, the day came and went without any fanfare. No one reminded me and I decided not to mark it either. I just noted when I wrote in the date on a check, smiled and moved on. I don't know why really. Maybe time actually does heal or maybe there are just so many other big things going on now. Whatever the reasons, I am glad. The aftershocks have diminished, and tears flow only when I recall the event in detail such as this. God was a faithful friend then and continues to be now and that's really the best part of the story. Guess I'll soldier on. The missions await.

On a date with my boyfriend!

Not that long ago, in the midst of raising all these fine kids we are so blessed to have, dates were often merely a respite from the fray of laundry and extra curricular activities, teacher conferences or just whatever kept our lives and calendar so full. Back then we usually just made a quick trip to a local fast food place so as not to be so far from home that we could not return quickly in an emergency...like the time two kids managed to fall through the front of a glass display case! Now that we have more free time and less stress, OK, more free time...we try to make dating a little more adventurous and put a little more thought into it. We've taken in a live theater performance, tried some new restaurants, sometimes at different times of the day. We have never really been movie people, though. It seemed we either saw only kid friendly films or there just wasn't time. Lately we have really enjoyed seeing a few more movies than usual and there are even more on our list. Today, on a Sunday afternoon no less, I enjoyed a movie date with my boyfriend. We saw Cowboys and Aliens and had a great time. The theater was packed so my two or three unbridled, jump out of my seat screams were a little more embarrassing! The hot guy sitting next to me (also know as my hubby) found it extremely funny. In fact he's been known to laugh at me on other occasions as well, like this morning when I sang the "I Don't Want to Get Up!" song. It helps that we have similar tastes in movies and TV and lots of other things, but movies can be a fun time together. He even resisted the urge to critique the theology...come on, it's scifi, what did he expect? Daniel Craig makes a pretty great cowboy and Harrison Ford is, well, Harrison Ford. I think I like this relaxed and at the same time more adventurous season of dating. Next week, Larry Crowne or maybe Captain America and we may even try Greek food.

Pardon the Interruption...

Life...it's what happens when you're making other plans. I've been away from blogging for two whole months, not because nothing was happening but rather too much was happening. My sweet, sweet mother, who had been ill for most of this year, did not get better and come to live with me as I had planned. Instead she got worse, went on to heaven and will never come to live with me...as I had planned. I am still reeling, healing and trying to figure out what comes next. I was part of that sandwich generation, the generation of folks who find themselves with kids (or one, anyway) still at home and needing to care for aging, maybe ill parents. We had made plans to do this and I had come to even joyfully anticipate it. I had hoped our youngest would be out of the nest and safely away at school before Mom came to live here, for reasons only parents of big ol' boys might get. I also thought it would be much farther away, years even. Well, my "sandwich" just fell apart when my mother died last month. All the plans I had to make her remaining years totally awesome just slipped out and fell on the floor like so much lettuce! Now what!? I, with the ever able help of my precious hubby and very supportive children, am trying to figure that out. My job hunt continues without success. My goal to reach my neighbors for Christ and to enjoy this second half of life to its very fullest still remain. Yes, the wind has gone out of my sails just a bit. I don't sleep very well many nights. I see images of her last days more often than I would like. I cared for her with lots of love and tenderness but not nearly long enough. I am suddenly much too aware of my own mortality and my new position as the reigning matriarch of this side of the family. My eyes still "leak" pretty often and I miss my dear, little Mama like I never thought I would. I know she is having a real time in heaven, enjoying sweet tea in a mason jar, swinging in some porch swing on a big, sweeping porch and maybe even having girl talk with Ruth Bell Graham! I'm glad for her, that she is whole, pain free and completely happy, but I'm a little sad for me. I've been warned that I may miss her for a very long time. I hope I get better at this grieving thing. I also know she would want me to go on and live my life, for a very long time, with lots of gusto. So, to that end, I am back. I'm going to move forward with as much grace as I can find and do the things I should be doing. Thanks for waiting...

End Of An Era

This week we celebrate a birthday in our home, a pretty significant birthday. It marks the end of an era. Our "baby" leaves behind the teen years and enters the twenties. It truly seems like just yesterday he was a very little boy. Not only is he leaving behind the teen years, but we are as well! For the last eighteen years we have been the proud (and sometimes not so proud) parents to anywhere from one to four teenagers at any given time. Our home was always filled with the trappings of teenagers. The bathrooms were literally spilling over with blow dryers, curling irons or straighteners, acne cream, shampoo and conditioner for virtually every hair type and... laundry. The stairs were always littered with basketball shoes, school books, backpacks and purses...and sometimes, even laundry. Our bills! My goodness, the bills. Car insurance for that many young (read high risk) drivers sometimes rivaled the mortgage payment and before AT&T blessed us with a family plan we were even known to have cell phone bills in the $400 range. Gas for those expensive to insure cars, tuition, athletic fees, dance, guitar and piano lessons, band instruments, contact lenses and braces took a toll on the ol' pocketbook, yet, I have no memory of Dad ever complaining. I do, however remember the laundry. Mountains of it. I also remember curfews, proms, recitals, first dates and breakups. I remember ball games, track meets, college searches, youth group, mission trips, career choices, teachers, both horrible and truly remarkable and the bullies. I will never forget worrying when that teen driver took their very first solo trip behind the wheel or waiting up until that young man came in after taking a date home. I can't forget ER visits because of dumb stunts and the occasional appearance before a disciplinary committee, or two. I remember SATs, part time jobs, birthday parties, field trips, awards and accolades and lots of graduations...and the laundry. I recall many a night when the weight of the world was just too heavy for one particular teen and they just had to talk it out...right now. There were ups and downs, laughter and tears, bad days (or weeks!) and really good ones, too.

I had feared the teen years from the time our first little one arrived, thanks in no small part to the dreaded warnings of not so well meaning observers. I must say, now that the job is nearly done, it was not as awful as even I had anticipated. I loved having teenagers, in spite of the mess and noise...and even the laundry. This season has been long and at times arduous, and the deep physical tired of the preschool years gave way to the unforgettable emotional tired of gradually letting go. I have truly enjoyed watching them grow from children to adults (or nearly so), mostly with a minimum of angst and very little rebellion. Teenage years, I bid you a fond farewell.

Unfinished

I am a doer, very task oriented and prefer to have things wrapped up in nice, neat packages. People sometimes tease me about it. I might even have some teeny weeny control issues but that is another post altogether. Those tendencies may explain why unfinished projects are really bothersome to me. Nevertheless, I seem to accumulate them on several fronts. Since I still don't have a job, something about which I have no insight at the moment, it seems that this season would be a good one for undertaking some of those aforementioned bothersome things. I have unfinished books I had hoped to read, unfinished art projects ranging from paintings to drawings to sculptures. I have unfinished decorating projects including a huge, blank wall in my living room that really needs attention. I have unfinished organizing projects that just might make all the uncontrollable things in life seem a little more manageable. I even have unfinished education. It seems I am only one class away from finishing my Biblical Counseling coursework. Even if I have no concrete plans to actually use this accumulated knowledge, I think it would be good to finish the work. That will require lots and lots of reading, listening to hours of lectures and writing many essays before I obtain that lovely parchment certificate that says I actually finished something. It's funny how our minds work...I want a job, in part because I have way too much time on my hands but until now just didn't really want to get busy on these projects. It just got easier and easier to stare at the computer screen wishing that magic job would appear. Idleness just seemed to flow into more idleness. Sighing became more common. These are not traits I am proud of, have really had the time to indulge before now and certainly never aspired to. I guess I'm still unfinished as well. Perhaps a big, bold list of unfinished projects, displayed prominantly will help me choose action on those long, dark winter days. Maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to post some photos of some of those soon to be finished projects. stay tuned.

The State of Our Union

Some years ago, nearly twenty, hubby and I began a practice that continues today. We had heard that "If you aim at nothing you will hit it every time" so we wanted to set down some goals for each new year in an attempt not to "hit nothing" every time. To that end, we decided right before New Year's Day every year we would slip away for a nice, quiet, uninterrupted dinner and discuss the high points and low points of the previous year. We dubbed it the "State of the Union Date." We wanted to take stock of our marriage and family as well as ourselves as individuals and determine where we really were and what we would like to see God do for us and with us in the upcoming year. These plans and goals were not so much resolutions because we all know what happens to those. They weren't even just hopes we had for the upcoming year. They were much more.

When we started this practice we had six kids living at home. They were all in that middle years place where none of them drove yet but they all had many activities on their schedules that consumed a great deal of time. Understandably then the needs of our growing family took up lots of space on our goals list. We took the time to thoughtfully examine the lives of each child and wrote down a few things we wanted to undertake together to help them grow over the next year. Those listed items varied a great deal from the deeply spiritual to the downright mundane. Sometimes a child really needed to grow in the area of compassion and selflessness while another just needed to stop sucking their thumb! Sometimes it had to do with getting a child ready for launch, other times it was helping them take responsibility for cleaning their room. We were, by listing these items, not just crossing our fingers and hoping that in 365 days they would magically be changed. We determined to pray specifically about those areas but also to actively involve ourselves in the solutions, developing plans to see them accomplished. We did the same for ourselves as individuals and as a couple. We assessed such areas as physical, emotional and spiritual well-being and determined what areas we would focus on individually and together. We discussed and set goals regarding our service, our friendships, our use of time and money. Some years our marriage had taken a beating or we were just living parallel lives. Taking a hard look forced us to make changes and work hard at restoring and renewing our relationship. Thankfully, we never went very long in a state of marital unrest before such an assessment took place. Not surprisingly, nearly every year we set goals to lose weight, exercise more and save more money or get out of debt so maybe a few were a little like some resolutions. Nevertheless,  just being aware of what the other thought needed attention helped us to be more united and supportive of one another. We also learned that two really are better than one and we often see things from different perspectives. This exercise was not just for efficiency and accountability but it also fostered greater unity in our marriage. It took teamwork and over the years we have come to really treasure these times. Some years our date was very special, taking place at a nice restaurant with much fanfare. Once, hubby even saved a very special gift, a piece of jewelry, and presented it at this event. It had been a very good year. Other years, like this one, were more low key. Last night we found ourselves at home, alone, enjoying a date at our own table because the work schedule just didn't really allow for anything else. It was still a good year...a very good year.

I can only recall two years since we started this practice that we did not have our annual "State of the Union" date. There were times, to be sure, that one or the other of us just didn't want to but only twice were we both so discouraged that we decided to forgo the custom. Once when cancer lived at our house...we were just treading water. Just staying afloat was enough. Neither of us had the energy, the inspiration or the hope to look forward to the new year with anticipation. We were just spent. The other was a year so fraught with difficulty and financial woes that neither of us looked up long enough to plan the time and it just didn't happen. I don't see us missing anymore. We also learned after a few years of doing this that having a mid-year reassessment was a good idea. Waiting to look at the list again until late in the year left little time to regroup if we got off track. While we wanted the list to be private, keeping the document close at hand was a better plan. We have also really enjoyed going over past lists and recounting all the good that has transpired.

This year was a little different than others in several ways. Nearly all of our children are married. Oh, we still pray for them and many of their names found their way onto our list for this year, just not quite like when they were children living in our home. Now career goals apply to me as well.  We also set some new goals, relative to our new season of life. Hubby suggested we try a new date type or location each month...like a new restaurant, a concert or play, Murder Mystery Train Ride or festival in some other town. Ever the romantic, he also insisted that we plan at least two weekend getaways. We also determined to be more purposeful in developing new friendships. We set very specific goals in the area of fitness and finance rather than nebulous ones like lose weight and save more. I think we will be encouraged as the year plays out and we see forward progress in so many areas. At some level this just speaks to good stewardship. I even heard a couple of my children talking about their own "State of the Union" dates this week. I hadn't really thought they noticed but am very glad they have determined that such a practice might be useful to them.

Happy New Year!

Between a Rock and hard place...

This has been a very rough week...that would be the hard place. Two hard places, actually. Caring for aging, ill parents and all that entails, helping them make difficult decisions and trying hard to do it with just the right blend of grace and urgency is something of a challenge. The other hard place is caring for, loving and comforting grieving adult children...from a distance. I understand leaving and cleaving and what it should look like at many stages of married life. Helping and at the same time not interfering in both of these hard places is a labor of love like none I have ever known. We are grieving as well. We are heartbroken over the loss of a second precious grandchild in less than a year and the unbearable pain that has brought to their parents. We are saddened at the failing health and growing dependence of two aging saints. Many helpful resources have undertaken to prepare us for this unique aspect of the Second Half, that sandwich place between caring for children, whatever their age and parents. All that reading was only theory...until now.

But we have a Rock. His name is Jesus. He is enough. His wisdom will guide us as we reach out and help. He will show us how best to bandage wounds, suggest alternatives and encourage faith and moving forward.

The LORD is my rock and my deliverer, my God,

my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield, and the horn of my salvation,

 my stronghold.

Psalm 18:2

He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be greatly shaken.

Psalm 62

Of Pies and People

I might have mentioned once or twice that we really want to be more missional, reach out and get to know our neighbors and yes, ultimately share the good news of Christ with them. How to do that has been something of a mystery. Last week a woman at church mentioned that the holidays are a great time to be more active in our connection to our neighbors as it is just more natural at this time of year. We agree. In fact, we had already decided not to wait until Christmas but to get a head start by taking some initiative at Thanksgiving. Here's a glimpse of what took place in my kitchen yesterday...

We baked pumpkin pies for our five nearest neighbors. We decorated each one and added a card sharing how grateful we are for our neighbors. We had been thinking and praying about this for several weeks. It was a first step, a way to actually meet some of the folks who routinely drive into their garage, bring down the door and disappear inside until they need to venture out again. We prayed over each pie...I know, that sounds pretty corny, but we wanted this to mean something and knew that on our own it would just be food. We hoped to find each neighbor at home. We had only a small window of time to deliver them before the hubs had to go back on twelve hour shifts and we wanted to do it together. We also did not want five extra pies for our own small Thanksgiving celebration!

All five neighbors were at home which is pretty miraculous in and of itself. We were on a roll at the first two houses. Both are home to young families with little ones. They were delighted for any help with their cooking chores and received the pies with gratitude. It's always pretty easy to make pleasant conversation about someone's children. The third house, a neighbor we have actually spoken to on several occasions, was a different story altogether. Oh, they received us warmly enough, just in a very different way. We were ushered into their home, commanded to sit and they began to serve us...coffee, toast, ethnic foods from their home in Pakistan. We enjoyed a cake with herbs baked in along with a very hot red sauce as well as sweet orange rice. What a feast! They did not eat but watched us as we did. I tried hard to recall everything I knew about the customs of these fine folks. Suddenly, I remembered that I still had my shoes on! Never mind they were boots that zip to the knee! I still felt I should take them off. No worries, they said, guests need not do that. Then they began to tell us about their spiritual leader, their beliefs and customs. I wondered if they did so because the perceived that was the purpose of our gift and visit. Were they wrong? Not entirely but we had intended more "get to know you" time before we jumped right to religious beliefs. Well, now we know that they are Muslim. We were given information about how to learn more about their faith and we went right home and checked it out. This undertaking just took on a completely new aspect. Sharing my faith with regular ol' unchurched people is one thing (not that I can make any claims for having done even that!) but I was not exactly prepared for this new twist. God, on the other hand, was not taken by surprise in the least. After researching their particular sect of Islam, I'm fairly certain they are not extremists and that I am in no danger. I am, in fact, fascinated and more than interested in continuing our dialogue.

Our Kenyan neighbors, who greeted us warmly with hugs, received their pie and visit with enthusiasm. They will have a houseful on Thanksgiving and were grateful for the expression and the pie. Our newest neighbor, very northern, was also sweet and we should find an open door there when we return. All in all this was a very successful endeavor, hopefully the first of many. I was nervous, then frightened a little bit, and finally excited that God, in His infinite wisdom, chose to use simple people like us to reach others. I'm not sure if pies have a thing in the world to do with sharing the gospel but it seemed a good plan to me. Jesus did, after all, often use food to begin relationship with people. Food I can do...it's the rest I need a little help with. Thankful for first steps.



Drift

Yesterday I attended orientation for a new volunteer position I'm going to fill at a hospital near my home. I was not particularly enthused about going. Not because I do not want to volunteer but because this orientation is the same one used to familiarize new hires with their new position...the ones they landed and for which they will receive a salary and benefits. I, on the other hand, sat through an entire day of fascinating stuff and will garner only a lovely lemon yellow smock to distinguish me from other folks at said hospital. I will admit, I had a great time, learned a lot and was only more inspired and encouraged to seek employment in a setting like theirs.

I decided early on to take everything I could from this long day of listening. I saw videos of one of the hospitals where my son in health care got his start. I listened to people whose names were familiar and somehow felt just a little less lonely knowing someone I love had been there before me. I met nice people from every department of the hospital. Enjoyed both breakfast and lunch catered by the hospital and came home with a spiffy new tote bag, bearing the name and logo of the hospital. I also learned a great deal about safety, corporate compliance and the Joint Commission. One thing that stood out to me as a particularly professional executive spoke about standards, who sets them, how they are maintained ad infinitum was the concept of "drift." She explained that standards are great, accountability is also great but even in the very best systems, if no one is watching, something called drift happens. That's when gradual, almost imperceptible deviations from the standard take place. We have all witnessed this in one way or another. The truth is, things left to themselves degrade, they do not naturally improve. When I stop paying close attention to what and how much I eat or how often I exercise, slowly (or maybe not so slowly) my weight creeps up. If I neglect my budget and step outside of those boundaries we have agreed upon as a couple, even just a little, before long, I am way off my goal. In the hospital or clinic setting this can negatively impact patient care. At home I can become fat and poor. Other areas of life are influenced by the drift principle as well. If I routinely accumulate stuff I don't need, before too long my home is once again cluttered and I am overwhelmed with, well, stuff. If I neglect to spend adequate time developing and maintaining relationships, all kinds of them, whether it is the one I enjoy with my husband, my God, my children or my friends, I will see the effect of drift. As I survey the future, I am renewed in my decision to avoid drift. How funny that God can use even something as ordinary as an orientation for a volunteer position to speak to the heart. I'm glad I went.

Thirty Years Ago

On this day, thirty years ago, my life completely changed. How I invested my time, my money, the affections of my heart and the thoughts of my mind would never be the same. My priorities, my goals and my dreams were all forever altered, for on that day, I became a mother. Shortly after noon on November 12, 1980, a perfectly precious little boy was placed in my arms for the very first time. He stayed right there (except for the occasional bath and weigh in) for the next thirty six hours until a wise nurse finally convinced me to let him stay in the nursery for just a bit so I could sleep. I spent those hours studying every detail of his face, just taking it all in. Newborns have a very special scent...they smell, well, warm. I marvelled at his wispy hair, his sweet lips, his perfect little fingers and toes. I was absolutely smitten. So much so, in fact, that five more precious bundles would come along over the next ten years.

I was as prepared for labor as I could be and I was blessed to have easy, relatively pain free deliveries. I've actually had headaches worse than childbirth. I have been told, however, by someone who was there, that I did threaten to get up and leave because I was just "done" and had changed my mind about this whole baby thing. Not to worry, I did, in fact, go the distance. (I might have threatened that a few times over the ensuing thirty years as well...just sayin'.)

What came afterward, however, was a complete surprise. I had no prior experience with babies. I had no clue what to expect once the real work of motherhood began. Diapers, sleepless nights, spit up and everything else associated with new babies soon gave way to toddlers, potty training and before long, learning to read, and so on and so on, times six. I was completely unprepared for the all encompassing nature of motherhood. I didn't know how much work it would be, and I don't just mean changing diapers and cleaning up. I was not at all prepared for the real world of motherhood.

I didn't know...

-that I could love someone so much. I still haven't gotten over that.

-that I could be so selfish and angry over things like interrupted sleep. I got over that part, mostly.

-that I could find such joy in little things like first steps, new words, sticky kisses, a warm, clean, just out of the bath kid wrapped in a towel, baking cookies, learning to read and ride a bike, birthday parties and all the other day to day parts of childhood.

-just how many diapers I would change, messes I would clean up, meals I would prepare, loads of laundry I would wash. That I would attend so many dance recitals, football and basketball games, track meets, vocal performances and coffeehouse gigs...not so much of that anymore.

-that I would feel every pain and disappointment and share every joy along the way...that hasn't changed much either.

-that I could pray so hard, so often and so relentlessly.

-that a God-centered family is better than a child-centered one and that it's not about me...I'm glad we learned this earlier rather than later.

-that there was abundant grace for my mistakes and the hard places along the way...turns out God is way bigger than I thought when this journey first began.

-that no matter how hard I tried or how much I wanted it to be otherwise, some of my children would make some choices I might be sad about...it seems I am way smaller than I thought when this journey first began.

-that emotionally tired is really harder than physically tired. Still so true.

-that motherhood is not an equal sort of thing. My children will never be as devoted to me as I have been and still am to them. It is what it is...by the time they are really old enough to "get it" they are married and probably caring for children of their own.

-that I would learn so much about our great God through this endeavor and that by being a mother I would become a better child.

-that the sense of accomplishment and satisfaction found in this job is rivaled by nothing else I've ever done or will do. It is my Magnum Opus.

Thirty years. Where ever did they go?

Bits and Pieces, This and That...

No, I did not fall off the face of the earth. I just got a little busy and life crowded in. So in no particular order here are a few events and observations taken from the last week or so.

-My sweet hubby and I are determined to keep having fun. To that end we carved some pretty awesome pumpkins, if I do say so myself. And we might have used power tools...and one seriously rockin' X-acto knife set.



-The job hunt continues...did not get any of the ones I had applied for in October. In fact got two rejection notices within five minutes of each other. But I'm not bitter! I just keep applying, and praying, and hoping, and reminding myself that I have everything I need and God is never late. My job hunting children have had much greater success and for that I am very grateful. One got her dream job, another got a second job and a third just got a job that will pay the bills. I have a few more applications out, one of which has actually moved beyond the 'applied' status to 'routed', whatever that means. To me it means it did not go directly to the trash but made at least one stop. What a journey this has been.

-I LOVE fall. I love the cooler weather. I love the holidays and the food and the decorations. I love the emphasis on being thankful. I love that most of us have some time off to enjoy one another. I also met my husband in the fall and had my very first baby (and second!) in the fall. It is just my favorite season ever.

-On this day twenty-eight years ago we welcomed that second son, a rootin' tootin', rambunctious, bundle of strong-willed fun. Never a dull moment then, and pretty much the same today. Our lives have been forever changed in the very best way for having him. Happy Birthday, Son!

-The church search has been a wonderful success. Some things in life just take a little perseverance. We found a great congregation about five minutes from home. They actually consider our neighborhood, the one we have a heart for, the one with whom we want to share Jesus, to be part of their sphere of influence. Turns out there is another couple right here who has the same desire to reach out as we do. We will be meeting them soon and hope to partner with them in this endeavor. The church welcomes older folks like us and there seems to be much we can do. We are encouraged on so many levels and maybe just a little nervous. Making new friends can be hard.

- We are going to be grandparents! Gigi and Pops (our self-selected grandparent names) will welcome a new little one in May. Congratulations to oldest son and his wife.

-Mothering adult children is a mixed bag. Not unlike roses, there is plenty of lovely with the occasional thorn. 'Nuf said...