“May you live to enjoy your grandchildren.” Psalm 128:6a (NLT)
I remember when I was in my late twenties. I prayed that I would see my children grown, married and have children. This was my selfish prayer, one I wanted more than anything. I often wondered what my own Mother would have thought and done with my girls. Those are the kinds of things you think of when you have lost your parent at an early age.
When my first grandson was due I began to write about waiting for Little Man. After he was born, I wrote about Little Man lessons. Then I did the same when Little Miss arrived a couple of years later.
Last week Little Man started high school Not so little anymore. Today, Little Miss started middle school. Again, not so little. Both are tall and beautiful (handsome).
Time goes by much too fast. My young man plays the piano beautifully. Self taught. Brilliant mind. A sense of humor that can cause tears to run down my cheeks. A kind young man. A worship-er. Someone who can rough house his grandfather one minute and snuggle up to him the next.
Little Miss? My princess. She is everything a young woman needs to be and more. Super soccer player. Kind hearted to everyone and all little creatures. She is tender and caring. Artistic, creative and always willing to help. Someone who stands her ground, yet will defend friends and family.
Yes, I know I am partial. That’s what Grammy’s are, biased, partial, seeing the best.
What have I learned? Too many things. I see reflections of my children. I see their fathers, my son in laws. I see them figuring out things in their lives, and yet being available to give me the attention that grandmother’s need. They are the future and I am confident they will lead and teach and be strong . My prayers have been they serve the Lord with joy and courage and strength. So far my prayer is being answered.
“He covers the heavens with clouds, provides rain for the earth, and makes the grass grow in mountain pastures.” Psalm 147:8 (NLT)
Have you ever lay in the grass on a summer’s day and looked up into the sky? As a child I did this with my sisters. The clouds were in shapes and we would point them out to one another. Of course, by time we actually pointed to the exact cloud we were looking at, it had changed shapes.
Recently Dale and I were going into town. I sat in the passenger seat looking at the sky and the pastoral scenes as we drove. I looked up and there, in the sky, was a whale with water coming out of his spout. Clear as day, perfect in design. I smiled to myself.
We drove a bit farther and I mentioned to Dale what I saw. He bent down and looked, not seeing what I saw. Again, I smiled to myself. God was being playful.
Yes, I know that there are air-streams and wind patterns and clouds each are specific. They have always fascinated me. Each type of cloud has a name. I have learned them once or twice and promptly forgotten the names of each. (apologies to all my science teachers)
I choose to see the sky as our Lord’s art palette. It’s vast and each minute it changes. He paints the sky with vivid colors, He tosses the clouds in formation. He directs the weather. It’s all His handiwork. And He plays with His children. Like balloon art, He forms the clouds. A whale spouting water? Here it is. It’s like He has given me a wink and a smile.
I realized in that moment that I have forgotten how to have that play-time with my Lord. I haven’t spent time looking upward, life has got me looking at the road ahead. Staying in my lane. Don’t go out of the lines. It reduces my horizon. It dims my view.
Will I return to laying in the grass and looking up at clouds? Probably not, but I am once more reminded that life does not have to be all seriousness and business. We have this big, vast world to see the handiwork of our living God. Who knows? He may have a shape in the sky formed just for you.
“Jesus said to him, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.” John 14:6 (NKJV)
In the beginning of October we went to Ireland for two weeks. It was truly a gift and a blessing to make this trip to a place I have always wanted to visit.
As we landed in Cork, I cried as we approached the ground. The water, the green, the land of my family’s ancestors. Since childhood, this nation has drawn me to it, sparking curiosity, and sometimes just a longing to be there.
One of the first days there we walked about the city center of Cork, honestly, I can’t remember if it was at the end of a walking tour, or if we were just exploring, but we stopped in to St Peter and Paul Catholic Church.
As I have said many times previously, I was raised Catholic and left the church in 1977. Since that time I have tried to live my life for my Lord and Savior. I have not been perfect, by any means. I have gone to mass with my sisters on occasion and remember fondly my growing up in the church. I respect the traditions the church holds close.
Anyhow, we entered the church. It reminded me of the church I was raised in. The faint smell of incense greeted me at the door. A welcoming smell, one that felt comfortable. I walked into the building, looking at the rose stained glass window, the stations of the cross, the elaborate confessionals. People were pausing to pray inside. A reverent quietness permeated everything.
I often struggle with my faith. Is it enough? Am I strong in my beliefs? Am I pleasing God? I am sure at some points, people of faith wrestle with these thoughts.
I finally sat down. In the back. I looked at the kneeler. I smiled as I remembered that as a child I would look on the floor of our church and have pretend conversations with non existent ants to pass the time of kneeling a long time. I remembered being walked into mass on Fridays by the Benedictine nuns who taught us. Their strictness that we stay in line, not dawdling, kneeling straight . Memories flooded in, more than I imagined.
And then, as I sat there, I was enveloped in a peaceful presence. A still voice deep inside assured me that all my life my heart has been His. I may not have said the prayer at the time, but my heart yearned for closeness to my God. I am His. He knows my name. An unexpected peace in a cathedral.
“So He Himself often withdrew into the wilderness and prayed.” Luke 5:16 (NKJV)
Growing up, there was a neighbor’s formal garden that had a fence surrounding it. The fence had a hole in it that joined our yard with what we referred to as our “Secret Garden” or the field.
Inside this glorious place were many varieties of trees, weeping willow, apple, crab apples, maples. It was a very special place to have growing up.
The field was where my sisters and I could be girls, singing, and dreaming. It was also a combat field when the boys in the neighborhood joined in. Crab apples became hand grenades, weeping willow branches became whips. We would run and shout and climb trees. Again, it remains a magical place in my memories.
Often I would go there, climb a tree and imagine what my life would be like. Could I be a famous singer? Later I realized you have to be able to carry a note to do this. A dancer? You have to be coordinated to do that, not long legged and clumsy. An actor? Again, talent is needed to attain that. All dreams that girls can dream.
The garden was my place to withdraw, to contemplate, and yes, even pray childish prayers. I could tend to live inside myself easily.
I still can live inside myself. Quiet is a great companion for me. Being alone is fine also. I am easily overwhelmed with people around.
Lately I have been reminded that my blog has not produced anything in a while. Somehow the words don’t appear on their own and I haven’t contributed.
A few minutes ago, I got online and read some of my recent posts. The words jarred me into thinking elsewhere. Lately, I have withdrawn. I have sat in quietness and stillness.
That is all well and good, but, the downside is that when it is quiet within me, a record with deep grooves begins to play on repeat. The music and harmony are quiet enough, but the lyrics are not the best. The lyrics to this record is the same as it has been the bulk of my life.
The lyrics berate me with what is my worth, what do others think of me, am I doing enough for the Lord? This record never skips, it never stops.
Introspection can be good for a while. Living in introspection is not ideal. Shaking myself from this reverie I have had was necessary today. I have many exciting things waiting for me in the next few months. Things I need to be fully alert for.
We’re visiting with friends we were stationed with in Maine this weekend. We are planning on visiting our girls this month, I am looking forward to a San Diego friend to be with me also. September will be our Ladies Retreat (and yes, planning that has raised a lot of the above questions). Then in October we are going to visit Ireland. A place where I have longed to visit.
I know I am not the only person to withdraw into herself. I know the questions I have asked myself are not singular to myself. But, there are times where I wish I could return to the “Secret Garden”, climb a tree and sit the afternoon away while dreaming.
“Therefore, since we also have such a great cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let’s rid ourselves of every obstacle and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let’s run with endurance the race that is set before us,” Hebrews 12:1 (NASB)
I ran track in high school. I was okay, nothing spectacular. I love a challenge, so when I first walked on the track I looked around the field to see what I’d like to do. I knew I could run and I enjoy running. I looked at the shot put and knew that wasn’t for me, nor was the high jump. The pole vault looked interesting, but I knew my limits, or so I thought.
I chose hurdles. I liked the discipline of hurdles. The numbering of the steps and the correct way to get over the hurdles. I had found my place.
I missed a couple of days of school which meant I missed track practice. I went to school, and after the day, I dressed for practice. I was confident. I knew what I was doing. I warmed up. I stretched. l took my place in my lane to practice. I ran, cleared the first hurdle. I continued taking a half step extra. I took out two hurdles. I got up from the ground, knees skinned, elbows stinging. I set the hurdles back up. I started to try again, only to fail. It was the last time I attempted the hurdles.
I moved on to another spot, the 220 and the 440. I knew I couldn’t mess that up. It was easy. On flat ground. Straight course. Go to the starting block, get set up properly, place hands behind the starting line. Look up at the finish line. The course in front of me.
Today, I thought of this. In my mind, while praying, I saw the track in front of me. I asked our Lord to refocus me. I know the finish line is being with the Lord. I know the finish line is closer than it was 20 years ago, but the goal is the same. Finish the race set before me.
We each have a course set before us. We may not be at the starting block, some of us may be closer to the finish line, some may be halfway there, but we need to look forward, keeping our eyes on the prize.
Today I asked our Lord to keep me focused on the race set before me. I don’t want to veer off path. I want to finish this race with strength. I want to accomplish all the Lord has for me. I want to finish this race and fall into the arms of my Lord, hearing Him laughing and cheering me on and telling me how good a race I ran.
“Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 3:13-14 (ESV)
(Postscript: After the hurdle incident, and moving to the 220 and 440, our coach asked me to be a student manager, which I did. I did run a few races, but I actually lettered in managing!)
“Most important of all, continue to show deep love for each other, for love covers a multitude of sins.” 1 Peter 4:8 (NLT)
Each year (or at the end of December) I begin to look back and take stock of what has happened.
This is true for this year also, only this year, my thoughts have gone farther back. This week my thoughts have been occupied about this week fifty years ago. Yes, I know that seems like a very long time ago, and no, I was not a child. I was 19 (well, I guess I could have been considered a child).
Fifty years ago today Dale and I went to pick up a U-Haul truck that my Dad had to sign for us to rent. We picked it up and together my Dad and I talked to each other on the way home. It was really the last long conversation I had with him as a single lady.
Fifty years ago tomorrow was our rehearsal dinner. I jokingly asked Dale today if I should make a dinner tomorrow evening. It was a specific menu. He just looked at me and asked why I would do that. I reminded him that it was our rehearsal dinner meal.
Our fiftieth anniversary is Saturday. We woke up to a blizzard. Summer tires on his car. Snowballs thrown at us, accidents holding our band up, knee deep snow, so many stories and memories. One of my aunts gave us three months tops to be married. I guess we proved her wrong. This is a season of big celebrations. In November Dale turned 70. This Saturday we will be married 50 years, and in February I will join the 70’s club.
As I look back on what has seemed at times only a short time, I cannot believe we have gotten to this point. I don’t feel old. I don’t feel like we have been married 50 years.
On the whole, we have had a good life together. We have grown up together. We have had great seasons and hard seasons. Life goes by swiftly and at times it drags. I am thankful for what we have had. I am thankful for our Lord who has held us together and lifted us up many times.
I would say, may we have another 50 years together, but I really can’t see either of us hanging on that long!
So, here is to our life together, 12 homes, lived in 12 different cities, two children, 6 dogs, 3 hamsters, 1 guinea pig, several gold fish, and our neighbor’s cat that lives at our house. 2 son in laws that are loved like sons, 2 grandchildren, 2 bonus grandchildren and 3 bonus great grandchildren. Not a bad life at all. Happy Anniversary Dale!
““Behold, the days are coming,” says the Lord, “That I will raise to David a Branch of righteousness; A King shall reign and prosper, And execute judgment and righteousness in the earth.” Jeremiah 23:5 (NKJV)
Last evening our ladies in the church gathered for a Cookie and Conversation event. It was a relaxing time together and I hope everyone enjoyed it as much as I did.
I gave the devotion using the empty boxes that I wrap and put around our ‘fancy’ Christmas tree in the living room of our home. After the devotion a couple of women commented (not seriously), “I thought we were going to get presents.” We all laughed. I told them they were welcome to the empty boxes.
As I sat this morning thinking of last night it occurred to me that we all become children in this season to an extent. Yes, there is the stress and hassle of getting things done and accomplished, scratching things off a list, adding more things to the list, visiting people and so on and so forth.
But secretly, deep down, when we see a person we know holding a gift and walking towards us, don’t we get a certain twinge of excitement? Is it for me? I wonder what’s in there? Those thoughts before the dreaded thought of “oh no! I don’t have anything for them” appear.
This is a season of hope and excitement even if there is no tree, no gifts, no lights, no cookies. Residing deep within this season is a gift of hope and expectation. A season where we anticipate.
Personally, I think that gift of hope is a annual gift from our Lord. The year is ending, a new one approaching. This year, to be honest may have sucked. Big. Time. But there is hope. A new, fresh year is coming in a couple of weeks. Anticipation. Hope. Excitement.
A New Year with possibilities. Things may be different. Things may be the same, but, you have survived this year. “Why am I discouraged? Why is my heart so sad? I will put my hope in God! I will praise him again—my Savior and 6 my God! Now I am deeply discouraged, but I will remember you—” Psalm 42:5-6a (NLT)
“A man’s heart plans his way, But the Lord directs his steps.” Proverbs 16:9 (NKJV)
If you notice, the scripture from this post is the same as my last post. I am learning this scripture. Not trying to memorize it, although that would be easy enough, but learn it. God directing my steps.
Yesterday Dale left for a men’s retreat. I have told him that this was my time to play. You know the adage, ‘while the cat’s away, the mice will play.’ He would just look at me and smile. He knows me better. My idea of ‘playing’ is staying up past 9:30!
So, I dropped him off at the church and ran an errand that I had. In the past, I’d stop at the store and load up on snacks that I love to indulge in. Yesterday’s stop at the store was not the usual. Nothing looked good. I bought a couple of things and headed home.
This is where the scripture comes in. On the way home from the store, I ran through a list of things I was going to accomplish. It was going to be a great evening and I had it all planned.
I unload the car, which didn’t take long. I locked the car, of course. I came into the house and dropped my bags and proceeded to get the trash ready to take to the curb, or the head of the driveway as we have no curbs.
I was sailing along, cleaned out the fridge, loaded up the trash bag, grabbed my phone shoving it into my jeans’ pocket.
(Now at this point, I should describe the door we use all the time. It’s right by the driveway and it’s our go to door. The door knob will sometimes lock, but most of the time, it’s on vacation. We rely on our deadbolt which works great.)
I head out the door, throw the trash into the bin and pull it up the driveway. I check the mail, a piece of junk mail and a beautiful card from some friends in Colorado. I stroll back down the driveway, go up the steps and guess what was back from vacation? The door knob lock.
When I am at home alone, I usually carry my keys with me. It is something I have done since our Navy days. You have to be prepared. Guess who was not prepared yesterday? I looked at the door, I laughed. I actually could hear the Lord laughing. God directs my steps…. yep.
So, I look where we have hidden a key. No, not there. I walk around the house. I try using the junk mail envelope to do what you see people do in the movies. I realize it’s a bit chilly. Because, I just ran out of the house, with my long sleeve tee shirt and jeans on.
After praying, I decide I need to bite the bullet and call Dale. The thing I did not want to do. After all, he was in a van with his friends and I was going to be THAT wife. Graciously, he tells me where to look for the other key. I follow his directions, the key wasn’t put back the last time.
He calls locksmiths for me. He’s like that. Gracious. One calls back. It will be a couple of hours before someone can get there. I knew I made a rookie mistake. I knew the Lord was there with me, although laughing at my rookie mistake. He has gotten me through things like this before.
It’s around 4 p.m.. Our trees block the sun and at this point and my cheeks are getting rosy. I go next door. I ask to come in and it felt wonderful in there. I ask for a paper towel, because, well, it’s chilly and my nose is running.
I explain my situation. Their son and his girlfriend are sweet about not laughing in my face.
Fortunately their son was quick on his toes and handed me a spatula. This spatula. I love that spatula. I told them to never get rid of it.
So, armed with the spatula, I walk through the woods, and pray. It worked. It was the Lord. It was a miracle. But, a part of me smiled and said, “Welcome back Navy wife.”
I smiled to myself and thanked the Lord. Then it occurred to me to pray again. I had just opened my locked door with a spatula! A spatula! Thank You Lord for deadbolts and most of all, your protection.
“A man’s heart plans his way, But the Lord directs his steps.” Proverbs 16:9 (NKJV)
I finished my quiet time just a few minutes ago. As I opened my little devotional I saw the date, December 7th. Pearl Harbor Day. A day of remembrance.
My mind quickly went back to stories I partially listened to when my Dad and uncles would mention the war. Japan did not rate high in their conversations. As a child, a fear of that country filled my mind.
As I thought of the significance of this day, I found myself praying. I thanked the Lord for the sacrifice of so many young men on both sides.
My mind next went to Japan. A beloved country of mine. A place I called home for three years. A place that still calls out to me to return.
As a young girl my dream was to grow up, marry, and move to the south side of town. Or if adventurous, move to the Pittsburgh area, but no farther.
When it was time, as a young married couple, to pick our next duty station, Dale came home with three choices available to him. Rota, Spain, Reykjavik, Iceland, or Yokosuka, Japan. At that time, the south side of Oil City still looked like the most appealing to me.
I remember thinking the choices over. Spain was okay. Iceland just sounded cold, but it was then that I learned that Iceland was green and Greenland was cold. Japan brought a chill down my back. Dale went back to work with no decision made by me. He returned home to announce that the detailer came back with Yokosuka, Japan.
Man makes his plans, God directs his steps.
I ended my short prayer today like this, “Lord, thank You for sending me to Japan. A former enemy’s place. It was there that I truly met You for the first time. I knew of You before, but there, I met You truly face to face. ”
My mind, since the Amen, has been one of gratitude that I stepped into a foreign country feeling alone and afraid and three years later, I left with a piece of my heart staying there. The rest of my heart full of the goodness and salvation of my Lord.
I try to be an upbeat person. I can get down at times, but through our Lord, those times have become more infrequent. I try to forgive easily and move on quickly.
During the storm there were a couple incidents that hit deeply for me. I have struggled with hurt and discouragement since then. To be honest, I am still struggling.
Writing has always been the area where I can release emotions and thoughts. For years I journaled, releasing things that at the time were major events. I had thought of writing in a journal now, but, as I thought of the recent events I know there are many here who are dealing with similar thoughts, feelings, emotions.
Our area has not been in the news, which is understandable with the massive destruction of our neighbors to the north. What people don’t realize is that in order for the storm to hit there, it had to go through our area. But, our city has rallied and is coming back to life. I talked to a stranger in the grocery store yesterday and she commented the same as I have just written.
I went back again to the squirrel on our gazebo. He was battling the storm alone. Our area has had tremendous linemen from all over the country and as far as Nova Scotia. These men have been warriors in the face of what we had. They have worked tirelessly. They have given our area power. And, as I looked at a group of trucks last night, I realized that these men will either move to North Carolina or head south to Florida. Quietly they came in to our area, no fanfare, just the desire to help us.
They will begin to leave and again, without fanfare the trucks will be gone.
With power restored, water restored, internet being restored, life will resume to what it was. Many places are like they were before. Signs may be missing, grocery shelves may be empty, but life is continuing.
For many of us the work still looms heavy. This is when many will look around and sigh deeply. For those with family around them, the work will be shared. The burden will be easier. My heart is heavy knowing that there are so many who will deal with the remains of the storm alone. My prayer is that someone will come along beside them. Although I have seen that people have their own agendas and will take opportunities to comment and insert their thoughts into any open ear there are still loving people out there that, without care for themselves they will step up.
“The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart, And saves such as have a contrite spirit. 19 Many are the afflictions of the righteous, But the Lord delivers him out of them all.”Psalm 34:18-19(NKJV)
The Refreshing of a Wild Rose 