Withdrawing

“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  Lately, I have withdrawn.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. 

Remembering

But then I recall all you have done, O Lord;
    I remember your wonderful deeds of long ago.”
(Psalm 77:11) NLT

At the end of February I went to San Diego to be with a friend. It was a gift to me for my birthday and while I was there, we celebrated her birthday.

I came home knowing that I would write a blog post about the trip, and for the past month I have tried to put words to the trip. Obviously, if you are a reader of my blog, you know I haven’t had the words!

We spent time in Coronado, CA at a time share resort. It was a perfect trip. I felt something deep inside me but it was an intangible feeling at the time.

One day we spent at the Hotel Del Coronado, we sat on the deck by the water, talking, sipping coffees and munching on pastries. It felt natural to me, familiar. The military helicopters buzzed above, the Navy planes flew over, tourists were in their swimsuits jumping in the cold water and we sat on chairs in our sweaters watching it all.

As we talked, I felt like this time, special in itself, was also a special time for me. A deep feeling of calm and peace enveloped me. We stayed long enough that the coffee was replaced by iced teas and cookies (I think). Life continued around us as we sat, wrapped in conversation.

We eventually moved indoors as we browsed through the shops and wandered through the lobby. Looking into the dining rooms memories came rushing in. Going to see the Christmas trees each December and have drinks in the lobby, taking my youngest for afternoon tea in the lobby, events that I helped plan for work.

As we stepped into a courtyard more memories came to me, a leadership conference we had had in one of the rooms.

It was a day of memories for me.

Later in the week we went to Disneyland. I happen to be the same age as the park. While we lived there, I would go to the park on my ‘5’ and ‘0’ birthdays to celebrate. I haven’t been there since I was 55. Going at 70 was different, I discovered I can’t get in and out of rides as easily as I once did. Again, the park was filled with memories, lots of them.

I had a wonderful time. I felt loved on, spoiled, actually. I felt settled inside, renewed, refreshed.

I have thought a lot of this time spent in my former hometown.The flow of the traffic was familiar. The sky was the same.

As I write about this time, those intangible feelings resurface.

In our ladies Bible Study this year we have talked about altars of remembrance. It’s been an interesting theme woven into each presenters teachings. Last night as I was laying awake for a while, the two things, altar of remembrance and San Diego were tied together for me.

As I have mentioned in previous posts, I had a word from the Lord about going to San Diego in 1982 that said that there would be many thorns awaiting me in San Diego and that we would be there until the Lord was finished with me there. The word that was spoken to me came to pass.

During the time in San Diego the Lord did many things in me and He taught me many things. I grew and discovered that I was more capable of things than I thought. I was stretched and shaped like a potter shapes a vessel on the wheel.

With each move since leaving San Diego I have found myself reverting to old habits. Being shy and fearful of doing things. As I lay awake last night I realized that the trip was in fact, an altar of remembrance. It has taken me a month to identify those intangible feelings, but I am beginning to see. The Lord allowed me to be in areas where He ministered to and taught me life lessons. I remembered who I am in Christ. I experienced my altar of remembrance. I remembered the great works of God in the past.

I praise Him for His wondrous deeds in my life. I praise Him for taking me on this trip. I thank Him for those who were obedient to get me there. I thank Him for this trip I didn’t know I needed. Our God is a great and glorious God who cares for us. He knows what we need and He provides for those needs. Great and mighty is He!

Another Year

“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.

A happy marriage is a long conversation which always seems too short. Andre Maurois

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!

Late Bloomers

“Let us know, Let us pursue the knowledge of the Lord. His going forth is established as the morning; He will come to us like the rain, Like the latter and former rain to the earth.” Hosea 6:3 (NKJV)

Several years ago my oldest daughter and I had a conversation. It was one of those that stick out all these years later. She was in her early twenties and had decided that college wasn’t where she wanted to be. At first, as parents, we thought this was a bad decision. But as we talked about it, we realized she was right. She had taken the courses she wanted to and at that point, all that were available to her. The conversation we had is one that many people have either with themselves or with people important to them.

The conversation was really about what I want to do when I grow up. At almost 70, I can say I still wonder about this.

That Christmas I found a book to give her, it was about those famous people in the world who did their best work in the middle and senior years of their lives. A fascinating and encouragement to those of us who haven’t yet achieved what the Lord has purposed for our lives.

This morning, as I walked and talked with the Lord, the rain was starting to spit (you know, a drop here, a drop there, not really a sprinkle yet) and I remembered that we were officially in the season of fall.

I looked at the leaves that have already begun to fall. I smiled as I thought that in a few weeks our driveway will be hidden under the abundance of leaves that have fallen.

We have a bush that grows straight up each year. The stems are thin and the leaves are huge on this bush. At the top of these spindly stems are blossoms. It will be another two weeks before they bloom into bright pink flowers. They fascinate me. As I walked towards them, I thought of late bloomers.

In my reverie, I glanced down to a weed that has been in my driveway (we have a gravel driveway). I have stepped on this weed several times, never bothering to just pull it out. About to put my foot down on it, I stopped. At the top of the weed were little white flowers. Again, a late bloomer.

Sometimes late bloomers don’t make a brilliant splash in lives. They are tiny, and easily overlooked. They may be out of focus (like my pictures) and insignificant. But, the Lord of all creation purposes each living creation with a specific task in life.

Like the earth with the early and late rains in our seasons, we each are watered and have growth in our lives. Our growth is different. Our blooms are different. Yes, the tall bush with the brilliant flowers draw the eye to them and it’s fun to see a spring color in the midst of falling leaves. I think of it like the last hurrah! A plant rebelling against the oncoming cold and frost. This little weed is just as significant though. It has grown up through the gravel and moss. It’s strength is incredible. It’s endurance has known no end. It produced it’s flowers, it bloomed.

What an encouragement to all of us late bloomers. Hold on through the hard times and the encroaching cold. The Lord has planted deep within you a purpose that will bloom if we can receive the former rain and the latter rain from our Creator. Take heart.

Purpose

I am in the middle of doing a Bible study. It’s just a three week study, nothing major, especially from me.

The first week focused on prayer. This weeks’ theme will be purpose. The reason things were/are done.

As I went to sleep last night this scripture came into my mind. It’s not one I often think of. “Precious in the sight of the Lord Is the death of His saints.” Psalm 116:15 (NKJ)

I pondered on it a few minutes and fell asleep.

This morning as I was half awake and thinking I had slept the morning away, my phone rang. It was our pastor. He called to tell me that a dear friend of ours had a heart attack and he was on the way to the emergency room. We got up and dressed and decided to stay put until we heard more information.

More information came quickly. Our friend moved to Heaven this morning. Trying to define the words to describe the emotions we have fail me. Mostly I am concerned for his wife and daughters and granddaughters. I wasn’t going to write anything as writing usually garners remarks to me and that is not my desire or purpose.

Purpose, there’s that word again. A few minutes ago, I asked God what the purpose was. This was too abrupt, too shocking. I wanted answers. Personally, I cannot wait to move to Heaven.

There, in the deep part of my being, I was assured that our friend’s purpose was completed. He had fought the good fight, he had stood his ground with the enemy of our souls. Most of all, He has loved the Lord our God with his whole being. He served our God with joy, laughter, integrity, and warmth.

So many lives have been touched by him. He always made me laugh. His laughter was contagious. Now he is laughing with our Lord.

I am now challenged to serve my purpose here with as much joy as he did. Please, pray for this family.

IF

“So be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid and do not panic before them. For the Lord your God will personally go ahead of you. He will neither fail you nor abandon you.” Deuteronomy 31:6 (NLT)

I recently saw the movie, IF a couple of times. It is a sweet movie that I have enjoyed. Since that time I have thought of invisible/imaginary friends. I don’t recall having one, but I know my younger sister did. My older sister and I would walk her to the next block to a very run down house. It was there that her invisible friends lived. I always pictured them as giraffes, who lived on the first floor and looked out the upper windows. We would walk down to the house and stand on the sidewalk while she looked up to the upper floor and talked with them.

When we had children, our oldest had an imaginary friend. He had the same name as a Sesame Street character, Gonzo. I personally did not care for her invisible friend. He was pretty rowdy and got my daughter into a degree of trouble. Fortunately he left our family.

As I thought of all of this, I realized that often we depend on our self talk, our imaginary friends and/or just grinning and going through it all, teeth bared and set.

I remember shortly after my Mom had passed that I laid on my bed crying. I know I was alone and I was miserable. For some reason I remember just calling out to Jesus. This came to mind while thinking about the movie, imaginary friends and this image. It all came rushing into my mind at once. (Yes, it was one of those sleepless nights that seem to occur in old age)

As I thought about it all, I heard in my heart, “But, I am not invisible.” No, our Lord is not invisible. He is alive and real and an ever present help and comfort.

Last night in my mid night reverie I focused on our Lord. I thought about how He is not invisible or imaginary. He is with us daily. He knows our name. He sings a song of joy over us each day. He provides the help and support as we walk into new situations that might seem scary or overwhelming. And, as we call out to Him, He is there to answer us. For this, I am grateful.

Going at the Speed of Life

“A thief is only there to steal and kill and destroy. I came so they can have real and eternal life, more and better life than they ever dreamed of.” John 10:10 (MSG)

Last week Dale and I went over to Gatlinburg, TN. We both needed a get away time and it proved to be just what we needed. We didn’t do a lot of the touristy things, except for browsing in the shops, which is always relaxing to me.

One day we drove to an area called Cades Cove. We spent most of the day driving through the area. The Smoky Mountains are gorgeous in this area. I started to take pictures, in which I usually fail majorly. I had the idea to take a close up photo of the area right outside my window.

This was supposed to be a great picture of part of a fence and as you can see, it’s just a blur.

I was about to delete this when I hesitated. It was like I heard, “Isn’t this like your life? You quickly drive by and miss the details.” Ouch! True, but ouch!

I kept the photo and I started to think about the picture and my life and the way I view it.

Today I was looking through old pictures. Most of ours are in boxes and in no particular order. But, as I looked at the pictures, some faded from time, some blurry (I wonder who took those?) and all of them jogging memories of places and people and seasons of my life.

I surprised myself at knowing when (not the date) they were taken. I remembered birthday parties at our favorite Italian restaurant when the kids were small. There were plenty of pictures of tents and camping. Some pictures Dale would have a sweatshirt on and then I would see the same sweatshirt on me. Throughout, the pictures of our daughters, babies, prom pictures, smiling, goofing off and glaring at the camera. There were a great deal of all emotions from them.

I have had a great life. We have lived several places, and in a different country. I have had experiences I never dreamed of growing up in Oil City, PA. Life has been good. Life has gone by quickly.

I have thought about going at the speed of life. Looking at memories, I see that for most of it, even though I was right there, it’s a blur.

This one is clear. The mountains fade into a mist. Behind that mist are more mountains. They remain in place even though they are not visible. The same is true of the memories of life. They are a constant in my memory. They are not always visible, but they remain hidden by a mist of life.

I will keep taking pictures. Some will turn out and some will be blurry. But, I have a feeling that now, instead of harshly critiquing my skill and deleting, I will remember that I tend to speed by my life and miss out on details.

Women at the V.A.

Today I went with Dale for a couple appointments he had at the V.A.. It’s always an interesting time when we go.

Usually, I watch the veterans. Mostly men, older, although many young men are also there. I heard a few conversations between these men. One was talking about his Ranger training and as I turned to see who was talking, an older man limping down the hallway was doing the talking. To hear the stories and see the men is something that touches my heart deeply.

Today, though, my focus went to the wives. They accompanied their husbands. One who was waiting was deeply engrossed in a book. One led her husband up to the window and gently pushing him toward the window made a fairly loud comment to sign in there with a hand motion. She turned around and mouthed the words “He can’t hear a thing!” to others waiting for their turn in the audiology department. Others pointed directions, walked beside their spouse, gently holding onto hands and guiding their backs.

Yesterday was Memorial Day, a day to remember those who gave all in battle. The heroes that wrote checks to this country with their lives.

As I sat watching and thinking, it occurred to me what military spouses have given. In our youth we waited through deployments. We learned how to maintain vehicles, fix lawn mowers, fix wobbly doors. We were the ones to kill spiders, bugs, and chase off snakes. We were Mommy and Daddy. We kept moving through exhaustion and wrote letters at night that didn’t mention that part of life. We had to think of morale. Our deployed husbands didn’t need to hear of half a problem solved, they needed to know that things were under control. They needed to know the kids were well, the bills were paid, the car was running, the lawn was mowed. There was no e-mail. No video calls. No photos instantly sent.

The women at the V.A. today were in that group. We did without. We made do. We prayed for wisdom, we prayed for safety, we prayed for sanity. And today as I watched these incredible women, it occurred to me that we are still doing that. Supporting our men, watching them, waiting for them, being there. The toughest job in the military? The military spouse.

A Whole Bunch of Stupid

“You will show me the way of life, granting me the joy of your presence and the pleasures of living with you forever.” Psalm 16:11 (NLT)

47 years ago today, my husband and I accepted Jesus as our Lord and Savior. The best decision we have ever made. Our lives were immediately changed for the positive. Old habits went to the side as we learned to walk in our new faith. Each year this day brings memories and reflections with it.

Yesterday I had an initial appointment for physical therapy. The therapist asked a bunch of questions about my aches and pains and why I thought I had them. She had me do some exercises and she felt my back to feel the differences in it.

She asked how I broke my back. I explained that 23 years ago I went sledding with my youngest daughter and her friend, they were both high school seniors at the time. We were all sharing a single round saucer and the run was great! That is, of course until I sped off one boulder covered in ice and slammed into a big boulder covered in ice. The result was a compression fracture of my lower back.

She then asked if I had had anything happen recently to cause my back to act up. The only thing I could think of was when I fell and broke my elbow two years ago. I explained the fall and how it was an epic fall, me flying through the air and landing with a thud. She was laughing along with me and asked about other injuries.

I mentioned that I had broken my other elbow years ago when I tripped over my pant-leg and fell into the street. I mentioned how Dale does not allow me to walk and chew gum anymore.

The appointment was filled with laughter as I sheepishly gave a litany of my “stupid” acts.

Today while I was driving into the store (it’s a good 20-30 minute drive), I was thinking about yesterday and also today. It occurred to me that at my age I have experienced a whole lot of stupid. A. Whole. Lot. Of. Stupid.

Each day we all do thoughtless things. Or, maybe it is just me. (Yikes!) Things like stubbing your toe on a piece of furniture that hasn’t moved in years. Using a wet potholder on a pan in the oven. Heat travels fast! Slicing yourself while slicing a vegetable. Just stupid little things that in the greater scheme of life don’t matter.

As I thought about all the stupid that I have experienced it occurred to me that through this all I have been protected by my Creator. We hear of guardian angels, well, I think I have gone through several. Psalm 91 talks of the protection the Lord gives us. He is my refuge, my shelter. He will rescue me from traps and disease. When I gave my life to Him, when I made Him my shelter, He will make certain no evil or plague will come near my home, He has given angels charge over me to hold me in their hands.

I have tried the Lord in all of this. I have smooshed angels as I fell on them (see examples above). Like any child I tend to do stupid things. Not disobedient, just thoughtless. If God the Father had gray hair, I would say a lot has come from me. Each time my stupidity comes to light, or to a thump, the Lord has been with me. He has comforted me, healed me and allowed the experiences to give me stories. Stories that make me laugh, make others laugh.

Life is full of wonderful adventures. For 47 years I have had joy, even on the hardest days. I have had hope during dark days. I have been loved by God even as He must be rolling His perfect eyes at my antics. This is just a preview of what I will experience when I can finally see Jesus face to face. When He hands me a saucer and suggests going sledding. (Will there be snow in Heaven?)

Life is filled with a whole lot of stupid, but it is also filled with joy, laughter, peace, hope, and above all love. 47 years ago the dread, the anger, the hopelessness of my young life left me. That is when the Creator of the universe took up residence in my heart, making me new and reborn.

A Short Story… Snippets and Memories

“As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you;” Isaiah 66:13a

The pink acrylic alarm clock sat beside the bed she shared with her sister. It was her favorite with the edges around the face of the clock. She would sit and hold it, rubbing her fingers in the indentations.

She knew it was about to go off as she slowly moved from dreaming to wakefulness. In the background she could hear noise, she knew she must still be sleeping.

The alarm went off. Reaching for the clock, she felt someone pick it up to turn it off. Her older sister was gently setting it back down. She quietly said, “Just go back to sleep. There is no school today.” At this time, their youngest sister stirred and sat up.

Her older sister went to the top of the stairs and said, “Dad, they’re awake.”

The next few minutes were life altering. Confused, the girl sat up as their Dad said, “Mom died last night. You won’t be going to school this week.” Her younger sister started crying. I sat there, confused. I probably was crying, but I don’t remember. I do remember thinking it wasn’t a very funny joke to tell us.

As I sat there, the surroundings became clear. It was still a bit dark, it was fall. The lights from the kitchen seemed so bright. The voices, I wasn’t dreaming. I heard familiar voices of aunts and uncles. I had had a feeling that this day was approaching for the past month, although I never said anything. I was afraid to ask the question for fear that I might get the dreaded answer. That morning, reality slammed into our lives. Day One of not having a mother.

Life changed. That week we went to our Aunt’s house. We roamed around the house while she busied herself in the kitchen. We played with our cousin’s pom poms from high school. She was newly married and it all seemed so romantic to me. We gazed at our cousin’s basketball trophies. He was my favorite. He made me laugh.

We spent another day with another aunt. She let us make chocolate chip cookies. We didn’t add the salt to the recipe and she knew it right away. I never add salt now without thinking about her.

The funeral home was always packed. So many people leaning down to either pat our heads or shed a tear while we were there. We were bored. How many times can you nod your head while someone tells you they are sorry for your loss?

I was 11. That in between stage. I had teenage style of dresses, but could only wear ankle socks. It was humiliating to me. Classmates came into the funeral home. They would stand and stare, not sure what to do or say. I learned the art of small talk that week. I dislike small talk.

The day of the funeral was dark and drizzling. It was like being in a living dream. Motions happened, we went through them, behaving exactly like we were told. As we left, an older aunt lost her underwear and left them on the floor of the church. How bizarre that was and we still laugh about that.

The wake (we’re Irish) was a release for all who were there. Uncles handed us money, “Go to the store, get some ice cream for yourselves.” The neighborhood store must have done a record business as I recall getting back to the house only to have another uncle put money into a cousin’s hand with an order to go to the store and have fun.

Time moved at a snail’s pace but also it flew by. Family left and we girls learned to adjust. Some days in the beginning were okay, others not so good. My older sister was a rock, she guided and kept my younger sister and I moving. We three girls raised ourselves as best as we could. We are survivors.

I don’t know why this all came flooding back to me tonight, but I needed to write about it. The days of no Mother have been a lifetime. Snippets and memories sometimes rush in like a high tide. Other times the memories are still. Above all, though, I am grateful for my sisters. I am grateful for our Dad who was thrust into single parenthood in a time where wives did the bulk of raising the kids.

Life is interesting. Growing up it was normal for us. Normal is different for each person. God has a plan and a purpose for us. The snippets and memories have shaped me according to God’s plan for my life.