Category: Adventures

The Fig Tree

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“But everyone shall sit under his vine and under his fig tree, And no one shall make them afraid; For the mouth of the Lord of hosts has spoken.” Micah 4:4 (NKJV)

About three years ago Dale bought a fig tree. It was just a small branch, really, but he was excited to have it. He planted it in a planter and we set it on the outside deck. The next morning it was strewn all over the deck. A cat, or a raccoon, something got into it.

The fig tree was then moved onto our screen porch where it flourished. It grew so large that we had to prune it or prepare to cut a tree shaped hole in the roof of our screen porch.

The tree was babied for the next couple of years, covered to protect it in the cold months and watered in the warmer months. A raccoon broke into our screen porch this winter and once more the tree was dumped over. We discovered it on it’s side and most of the dirt spread across the porch.

This spring, the tree left the porch to it’s permanent home in the yard. Dale dug the hole, placed the tree lovingly in the ground and then he prayed for it to flourish. Yes, my husband is dear like that, loving anything God gives us to grow.

We have checked on the tree daily and have been thrilled to see little figs appearing on the tree. I have had dreams of making fig jam and fig bars.

Last week as I was walking, I checked our elderberry bushes, our grapevines, our blueberry bushes, the one or two berries were actually starting to turn blue. I then looked into the lower yard at the fig tree. Something was off. I walked in the yard to see half of the leaves gone. I looked on the ground to see if it was a bug or disease, but there were no leaf debris to see. I knew then, that it was our neighborhood herd of deer that had feasted on those precious leaves.

In a few minutes, Dale and I were outside providing a protection for the tree and a deterrent to the deer. Dale was grumbling at the deer, and I knew the feeling as our deer love our roses and I cannot keep them growing at all.

We also talked of how the deer probably enjoyed the tender leaves from the tree. We figured the leaves were a treat for them, but, looking into our woods we know they have plenty of other things to feed on.

Once more our little fig tree is safe and growing. Protected from hungry deer and able to continue it’s life in the ground.

Fig trees are mentioned often in the Bible. Jesus even cursed a fig tree when He was hungry and there were no figs on the tree He passed. Another parable talks about giving a fig tree an extra year to be cared for before cutting it down.

I see lessons in our fig tree. It has been nourished and loved. It has the encouragement to grow and produce fruit. It has been given a home where it’s roots will reach deep into the earth. This, too, is our lives. We have been planted, nourished and loved. Will we produce fruit or will we be given just one more year to see if there is a difference?

“For if we are faithful to the end, trusting God just as firmly as when we first believed, we will share in all that belongs to Christ.  Remember what it says: “Today when you hear his voice, don’t harden your hearts as Israel did when they rebelled.” Hebrews 3:14-15 (NLT)

Let us stretch our roots deep into our Lord, allowing the softening of our hearts so that we can produce fruit, in season and out of season, for our Lord. For our God is our protection and covering as we grow.

Our First Home in Japan

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“Then you will walk safely in your way, And your foot will not stumble.
 When you lie down, you will not be afraid; Yes, you will lie down and your sleep will be sweet.” Proverbs 3:23-24 (NKJV)

I like to refer to our time in Japan as our ‘college’ years. Years where we discovered who we were and what we wanted. Dale and I were just 21 when we went to Japan. Neither of us went to college, so when we moved overseas, it was our time of self-discovery that many have in their college years.

We spent the first two weeks of our tour there in the Navy Lodge. Today it would not rate even one star, but, that’s another story. When we arrived there was an agent from the housing office that took you to three places that would rent to American servicemen. The first house we walked in and Dale slammed his head on the doorway. I laughed, the agent laughed and the agent reminded us to duck when walking through the door. The second place Dale ducked, I smacked my head, Dale laughed, the agent laughed. I believe the third place is what we rented. It was close to the base and it felt like home, all three rooms of it. The kitchen had parquet flooring and the other rooms were tatami. The larger room was six tatami (meaning six tatami mats would fit in the floor) and the other room was four tatami. It was small and cozy. We had a toilet room and a room with a traditional Japanese bath. Just enough for the two of us.

We lived in the upstairs apartment. The home held four apartments. The steps were like a fire escape, steel and steep. An open sewage ditch surrounded the block, so when the wind was just right we made certain the windows were closed.

Next to the building was a playground.

I loved watching the kids play with their parents and with each other. Trucks would drive up daily blaring announcements of the wares they were selling. They would pull into the area beside our home and park while women would go to the truck to buy their wares for the day. I would go when the fruit and vegetable truck would come, I was not confident enough to get meat or other things from the trucks.

Down the block there was a person who would play a Japanese zither each night. The beautifully haunting music still echoes in my mind.

Our first home was a peaceful place. It was a place of safety and security. We felt at home there, even in a foreign place. It was the true beginning of our journey together. We would bump our heads often and freeze in the morning before starting our space heaters (there was no heat in the building), but it was our home. We had rice paper doors within the apartment and the tatami mats were comfortable to sleep on with our futon. It was there that our love of Japan blossomed, the food, the people, the beauty of the country.

Our Lord has made a beautiful world for us. I am so grateful I was able to be a part of Japan for that time.

What difference is 40 years?

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“Gray hair is a crown of glory;” Proverbs 16:31a (NLT)

In the spring of 1982, Dale took our oldest daughter fishing for the first time. We were all pretty excited about this trip. We woke up early, I got food together for them and off they went on their adventure.

Since I knew I had at least two hours to myself, I put on my ragged bell bottoms I wore for cleaning. I cleaned what needed to be done, and sat down at the kitchen table. Looking outside I remembered our neighbor (now our youngest daughter’s in-laws) were having a yard sale. I decided to visit with them and see how they were doing.

Leaving the house with my ragged jeans and bare feet, I started across the road. As I got to the edge of my yard, my big toe caught on a hole in the hem of my jeans and down I went, arms extended. I quickly looked around, hoping no on saw me. The neighbor’s son (now my son-in-law) came racing up the street on his purple bike with the banana seat and raised handlebars. He squealed to a stop beside me, “Geez, Cath, that looked like it hurt, are you okay?” So much for no one noticing.

The end result was my left elbow was broken. The eventual running commentary was that I could not walk and chew gum at the same time.

This event came up recently when I was bemoaning my current state. Forty years can erase a lot. I couldn’t remember the pain or discomfort, I only remembered healing quickly.

As I have mentioned before, Dale has reminded me of my age lately. I still feel like I am only in my early thirties. But, when he made me aware of forty years passing, the truth hit home. Bodies heal quicker at age 27 than they do at 67.

Age has always just been a number for me. I expect an occasional sore muscle or stiff finger. This, however, has been an outright smack to my senses. Since February of this year I have mentioned to several people that I am on the downhill side to 70, just thinking of numbers. In reality, my body with most of the original parts, is almost 70.

I do not feel old which is a good thing, I think. I wake each morning excited for a new day. I know the bulk of my life is behind me and honestly, I look forward to eternity with our Lord. What could be better?

Grey hair, which I have plenty of, is a crown of glory. Psalm 147:3 says, “He heals the brokenhearted and bandages their wounds.” (NLT)

This time is proving to be a time of many reminders and lessons to me. Each and every time I have been injured, ill or depressed, my God had been and continues to be beside me. He is my healer, my encourager, the lifter of my head(and sometimes my body), He is right there, always ministering. I give Him the praise and glory due Him.

The difference in 40 years? Besides the aging bit, in the past forty years I have seen my family grow. I have seen my daughters become wives and mothers. I have had the blessing of having sons added to our lives. God has taught me, led me and given me the greatest blessings.

Time to Practice What I Preach

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I heard this phrase while I was walking this morning. I grunted. I knew the Lord was tag-teaming with Dale on this phrase. Let me explain.

In many conversations with women over the years I have repeated myself often. What have I said? Here is a sampling of what I have said: Get some rest. Allow yourself time to heal, you have been through a lot (emotionally, physically, mentally, spiritually). Your body is telling you to take time off, rest. Allow the Lord to renew you, comfort you, bring restoration. You get the idea. I only say things like this when I see a need. Women too often, push themselves to the point of total exhaustion and break down.

Dale and I have talked about rest a lot this past week. Like several times a day. According to Mirriam-Webster the definition of rest is: to cease from action or motion : refrain from labor or exertion; to be free from anxiety or disturbance. Cathi’s definition of rest (for herself) is, sit down, catch your breath for five minutes, six if you absolutely have to.

I like to be up and active. Since the doctor told me that only one bone was broken and I could move my right hand I have taken that as license to go back to normal. Thus, the many conversations about rest.

Rest is something that I know I need to have. Not just sleep, but restful times, still and relaxing. In July of 2015, I felt the need to do a study on rest for myself. I went to the Bible and started to look up each scripture on rest. I did this specifically to learn how to rest physically, emotionally and in the Lord. This detailed study of mine lasted until August of 2015 when I got busy and decided rest could wait.

So, here we are in June of 2022. I can’t do much and that four lettered word is haunting me. Rest. I know it’s important. Physical rest is vital for renewal and restoration of our bodies. Emotional rest is critical to be centered and calm. Spiritual rest allows us to draw closer to God, climbing up in His lap, hearing His heart beat and listening to His voice. I understand all of these types of rest. Physical rest is the one I avoid. It is hard for me to rest.

Because of this, when I am given an inch in recovery, I take that giant step. Today as I was arguing with the Lord it was like that childhood game. I tend to take the giant steps and not ask, ‘Mother may I?’

So, here is my confession to you all, written out in black and white. I am learning to rest, according to the Mirriam-Webster definition. Pray for Dale, as he is about to cover me in velcro and attach me to the couch so I will learn to stay put.

“Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Matthew 11:28 (NKJV)

New Every Morning

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“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end;  they are new every morning; great is thy faithfulness.” Lamentations 3:22-23 (RSV)

I am starting to walk again in the morning. With the sling still a part of my body, I am not walking as fast as I would like, but, I am trying to return to a normal routine.

This morning as I walked and prayed I asked the Lord if I had only had 90 days of fresh ideas for my blog. Yes, I was feeling in a bit of a slump. I was reminded that this blog is not me, this blog is what I am feeling to write from the Lord. I can’t explain it any other way. I often sit down having no idea what to write and then I am surprised at what happens. This is the Lord’s blog, and hopefully I will listen carefully and only write what He would like me to.

Anyhow, I stopped to look at the front yard. The sun was shining through the trees and I felt like the Lord reminded me that each day the sun shines a bit differently in my front yard. The above scripture came to mind. I remembered that God is the Creator.

Each day there are new things to behold. His creation grows and changes daily. His artistic pallete is varied and refined. Each sunset and sunrise reveal colors painted across the sky in diversity. Each day begins anew and ends afresh. No two days are the same.

I was reminded once more to pay attention to my surroundings. To look at my day, the people I should meet, to notice what is in front of me. Not to look for security reasons, (which is always good to do) but to look at the beauty and blessings my Creator has carefully placed in my life.

Summer Storms

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This afternoon around three, the sky started to darken and the wind picked up. I was looking out of the window at the time, watching the leaves turn up and the tree branches doing a dance through the sky.

The past couple of days the sky has threatened rain, but it has remained hot and humid and not a drop of rain anywhere. I expected the same today. The wind blew for several minutes and then, the sound of the wind changed and you could hear the rain approaching. It is still storming outside, thunder echoing and the occasional lightening flashing.

I went out and sat on our porch for a bit as the temperature had dropped with the arrival of the rain. Sitting on a chair I looked out on our yard. The leaves were glistening with rain on them. The trees gently rustled with the wind. The smell of the air filled with the scent of the rain.

All of a sudden I was transported back in time with a random memory, something I hadn’t thought of in forever. When I was a child, my father’s brother (who lived in another city) would come into town with his family for a vacation. He would rent a cottage on the river. My sisters and I would visit for a day or two, enjoying the time spent with cousins we didn’t normally see. The screen porch I was sitting in mentally changed. I was at once sitting at the cottage, on the screened-in porch playing a game on a rainy afternoon. The game was Go To The Head of the Class, and my sisters and cousins were crowded around arguing and figuring the game out. I hadn’t thought of the game nor that time together in several decades.

I came into the house and talked with Dale about the memory and ideas floating around about a possible post. I wasn’t certain about any of it, really.

As I have started to write, I have realized something. Memories are tied to many things. Sometimes a song will have you reliving a date, an event, a ride in a car on a summer day, walking to school with your sisters. Other times you walk into a kitchen and the smells take you to a time past and make you homesick for whoever was in the kitchen you remembered.

Today, the wind, the gentle rain, the smell of the wet ground and trees all provided a memory for me. The memory was a sweet one. I can remember my older sister knowing answers and giving them quickly. I remember being so proud that I had a smart older sister. The memory was comfort and a bit bittersweet knowing some of those family members are no longer with us.

Hebrews 13:8, “ Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.”(NLT) The One who gives us memories to cherish today is the same One who gave us memories yesterday. I once learned that memories are like a scrapbook. You can open that scrapbook as often as you want. You can look and reminiscence, returning to scents, and people and places. But, memories are for us to remember the past, not to dwell there or live there. Memories are a gentle kiss and brush along your cheek to treasure where you have been. Then, you close the book until you add more to the scrapbook in your mind.

Ours is not to reason Why

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Today I tied my shoes. Yes, I did! Not rocket science, I realize, but after ten days, it was a major accomplishment.

I met my orthopedic surgeon this morning. A lovely man, gentle and kind. He also, after moving my arm around a bit, gave me excellent news. No surgery needed. YAY!!!

I have a fracture of my right elbow, but I am free to use my right hand again. Praise God! I am still in a sling, but that is to remind myself that I am still healing and I need to use caution.

I am thrilled with this news, and I am thankful for all of you who have prayed for me, checked in on me, and did so many wonderful things for me. Your abundance of care and concern have blessed me beyond measure.

I have though, I confess, questioned the Lord as to why this happened. Was there a purpose? Does there continue to be a purpose? Did I learn what I was supposed to? Yes, a whole barrage of questions. Many I will never know the answer this side of glory.

I need to rest in the knowledge of Romans 8:28, “And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them.” (NLT) There is a reason for this time and season. I will try to listen with my heart and mind and rest, knowing God is in control.

I Trust Your Hands

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This morning we went to vote in the primary here in South Carolina. Dale was helping me get ready to go out. As he was fixing the back of my sling he apologized for moving my arm more than what he thought it needed to be. I simply replied, “I trust your hands.” I knew that he would not cause me pain or harm in helping me.

As we were coming home after voting, the phrase ‘I trust your hands’ came back into my mind. In fact it echoed in my mind the entire way home. I started to think about that phrase. The simple fact is that since I know Dale and have lived with him for almost 50 years, I trust him.

Isaiah 59:1 from the New King James Version states, “behold, the Lord’s hand is not shortened, that it cannot save; nor his ear heavy, that it cannot hear.” This verse also came to me on the way home from voting. God’s hand is always there to help steady me. He does not drift away from me or allow me to stumble or fall. I need to trust His hands.

Too often, I don’t think of this. And yet as the loving Father our God is, He is always near to us, His hands are open and ready to be there for us in any situation. Today’s lesson for me was Trust. Trust is sometimes an area that is hard to come by.

Everyone at some point, has had their trust broken. It takes time to recover from that lack of trust. Trust in our God, is something that is not easily broken. Our God is faithful even when we are not faithful, we can turn to Him, take His hand, and live out our lives. Trust in the Lord was not what I thought today’s lesson would be for me. In fact, I really did not think I would be writing today.

Sometimes a simple phrase given glibly has a profound lesson in it. That was my case today. When Dale apologized for possibly being too rough (he was not), and I merely reaffirmed to him my trust in him, I thought it was just a comment. The Lord uses everything in our lives to teach us, to guide us, and to instruct us. I am grateful for the little things that the Lord has shown me. I stand encouraged now, knowing that yes, I do trust in His hands. Matthew 28:20b states, “and low, I am with you always even to the end of the age.”(NKJV) This scripture is one that I love. It is like a quilt wrapped around me. It assures me that no matter what I am doing, where I am going, or what I am experiencing, our Lord is right there with me.

Just Plain Ugly

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As parents we have all had a day with a child who is just plain ugly. They whine, they scream, they cry. They cry if you say yes. They cry if you say no. They’re just plain ugly. We all get days like that, it’s not reserved just for toddlers.

This past Saturday was such a day for me. Most days I can see the Lord very easily in my life. Saturday, although I knew the Lord was with me, I was still just plain ugly.

When I have days like that I know what I’m supposed to do. After 67 years of life I know how to avoid the day getting away from me. First of all, I avoid talking to people. That includes my husband. I will have gentle conversations and then leave him alone. I also go on walks which causes me to unwind relax and talk with the Lord. This Saturday nothing was working. My poor husband, was the brunt of my frustration. I think he earned a halo that day living with me. I did attempt to walk, but I was muttering the entire time. If God wanted to speak to me, He couldn’t have gotten word in for my muttering.

On days like that, when I am out of sorts, I usually clean. I will start a task that I’ve been putting off and put my whole self into it. Or, I will make a delicious dinner that takes many steps to complete. I’ve also been known to bake on days like that. All of these things came to mind but, I couldn’t accomplish any of them. I can’t even tie my shoes at the moment. All of the frustration hit me on Saturday. I was not pleasant.

I woke up Sunday morning and apologized profusely to my husband. I confessed to him that I was just ugly. With the patience of Job, he looked at me and told me it was okay. He reassured me that it was all right to be out of sorts. I had already asked the Lord for forgiveness on Saturday night.

I share this day with you because too often as Christians we show the good side only. We like to reveal ourselves as someone who is constantly in touch with our Lord. We like to project an image that we are always filled with praise, grace, and worship of God. The image that we try to do, myself included, is to look like we are at peace at all times; nothing ruffles our feathers. We are all human, I am human. That means that frustration is going to get to us. What I was reminded of on Saturday in my foggy thinking, in between yelling at the littlest things, was that God was still there. He might not have been able to get a word in edgewise, but that did not make Him walk away from me. I’ve learned long ago that our God is a God that stays. He is with me in trials and tribulations and broken arms. He does not move. We as humans are the ones who move away from Him. Saturday I was that toddler. I was the one sitting in the corner stomping my feet, throwing toys, screaming, whining, and crying. I was not pretty. Had I just stopped for a moment, I would have realized that behind me in that corner was my Lord who was trying to wrap His perfect arms of love and peace around me. Had I been quiet I would have heard Him say to me, “peace, be still”. It is said that hindsight is 20/20. I realized when my eyes opened Sunday morning that hindsight is 20/20. Had I stopped even for a few minutes to calm down, to relax, and be still I would have realized what was going on.

In the New Living Ttranslation, John 16:33 states; “I have told you all of this so that you may have peace in me. Here on Earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.” Our Lord has overcome the world and because of that we can overcome the trials and tribulations that we encounter. This arm sling is a season of my life. Yes, I do get frustrated when I can’t tie my shoes, can’t shower, or fix meals. I know there is much for me to learn during this season. There is a sign for a church in the area and it says “there can be no testimony without the test”. I’ve wanted this blog to show the real me. Am I proud of the way I acted on Saturday? Absolutely not. Have I learned something from my behavior on Saturday? Definitely!

This I’ve been reminded of, my Lord walks with me daily. He’s the one that prevented me from falling on a piece of granite that is in our yard. I landed on soft grass. He’s the one who has directed physicians and made appointments for me. He’s going to be with me throughout the rest of this season. I pray I can be open to hear, to listen, to rest and be calm. Thank you for prayers as I know many of you are praying for me.

Pizza and a pick-me-up

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“So encourage each other and build each other up, just as you are already doing”. First Thessalonians 5:11 New living translation

Dale left around 11:30 today. He had an appointment with a friend for lunch. I was settling in for some time on my own. Shortly after Dale left the doorbell rang. I actually thought he had forgotten something and had returned to get whatever he had forgotten.

I went to the door and was surprised to see a couple from the church. They were holding a pizza bag like a delivery man. I was so surprised and immediately was lifted up in my spirit with happiness.

To say I was blessed is an understatement really. It was a surprise like a surprise package. We were able to sit and visit for a while and it cheered my day up immensely.

A good father will bring his children surprises and presents to cheer them up. He will do this even when the person is feeling okay. Our heavenly Father brought me this surprise package today. This couple brightened my day more than they realize. The pizza was good but the friendship is much better.

I was reminded that little things mean so much to people. We often think that we have to make a grand gesture in order to make a presence in someone’s life. I know I am guilty of this. It’s the little things that matter. We read that often and we hear that often. It’s truth. A kind word, a smile a gentle hug. These things can make someone’s day, month or even their year. I need to be reminded to take the time to do some little things for people because those are the times that other people need the most.

Thank you to Robin and Phil you made my day. I will remember this as a gentle hug from our Lord just you being obedient and bringing me a supreme pizza.