Category: family

The Lord’s Paintbrush

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“As long as the earth remains, there will be planting and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night.” Genesis 8:22 (NLT)

Today Dale and I headed for the hills. Actually we drove to North Carolina to pick up some apples. It’s that season, after all.

As we drove towards Hendersonville, the Blue Ridge Mountains enveloped the landscape. I love mountains. They hold peace to me. I get very calm when heading there. Today was no exception.

The closer we got to the exit the richer the colors became. God has had His paintbrush out, dabbing a bit of yellow here and a bit of red there. The colors are not peak colors yet, but nonetheless, they were beautiful.

Looking out over Lake Lure, NC

We meandered today, we took our time, enjoying the company of each other and the day.

After apples, we headed to Lake Lure for lunch. Our restaurant over looked the lake and the mountains. It was a perfect day to dine alfresco, but we ate inside as our stomachs could not wait any longer for the outside and view.

The photos do not do justice to the view, but you get the idea. A beautiful fall day, filled with apples, food, great company and the artistry of our Creator, what could be better?

My Recipe Box

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One of the first things I did after getting engaged to Dale was to visit his Mom holding a stack of index cards. I then went through her recipe box copying recipes from her.

A few months later, my sisters gave me a shower. They had a recipe box for me and it was filled with recipes from all my relatives and Dale’s relatives. Some just signed their names, some wrote little notes on the back and some added additional ideas for the recipe. It remains one of my most cherished gifts.

With the internet I now find I hardly go to my recipe box or my grange cookbook. I just go online, search for what I want to make and go from there. This evening, Dale had a men’s potluck. Today was one of those fall days where you long for the past. I woke up thinking how I would love to have spent the day in Old Town Alexandria, VA with my youngest. She’s lived in Charleston, SC for years now, but the thought of pushing a stroller and browsing through shops and sharing lunch like we did long ago, just sounded wonderful.

But, getting back to the potluck, I wanted to make something that had a history to it. I decided on homemade baked beans. I searched my recipe box (you knew it was going somewhere, right?). Inside were scraps of paper, worn notebook paper, deposit slips with recipes on the back and the usual recipe cards, many with different handwriting than mine.

The baked bean recipe is on a note size paper, the bottom a bit frayed and the sides of the paper bent in many directions. I remember when I wrote it down. I sat in the kitchen of my mother-in-law. I sat in a chair at the table and she dictated the recipe to me. It was from the woman who taught her how to cook. The recipe is close to 100 years old. When I taste them, I taste home and hear the echoes of family reunions in my mind.

After fixing the beans, I pulled out my grange cookbook. So many tried and true recipes in there for me. Today it was pumpkin cake for the guys. As I leafed through the pages of the cookbook, there were again pieces of paper thrust inside. There were notes scribbled on the pages, don’t use this temp, it will dry out. Add more sugar to this one. Don’t ever make this again. Things like that.

It was a nostalgic morning for me today. Some recipes were from our time in Japan. It was like I got them yesterday, I remember the first time I had the Korean beef and realized I hadn’t made it in years. There was a hobo sandwich recipe that my sister had sent me in a letter while we were overseas. Hobo sandwiches were made in the hospital cafeteria when she and I worked there before I was married. Several cheesecake recipes that I swore I would make often and now I just remember the person writing the recipe for me and forgot how the dessert tasted.

It was a wistful morning for me as my mind traveled back in time to people and places that once were home.

Psalm 143:5 says, “I remember the days of old. I ponder all your great works and think about what you have done.” (NLT)

I never imagined all those years ago that my life would be so full. Eating is a part of life, it is a necessary thing for our bodies, but it is also a social event for us. Memories are made around food. People bond over food. Opening that recipe box today was like opening a scrapbook. With each bit of paper, with each signature, my life’s history opened up to me.

Anxiously Waiting

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“For our citizenship is in heaven, from which we also eagerly wait for the Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ,” Philippians 3:20 (NKJV)

I love when we are expecting visitors. When my sisters and niece came to visit a few years ago, I was already watching for them minutes after they had left Charlotte, NC, which is an hour and half from our home.

When our daughters are coming in, I text them consistently asking where they are, just so I can picture in my mind how far they are in their trip. I usually want to have food ready for them when they arrive, so I finally ask them to let me know when they are a half hour away so I can make finishing touches on the food, and then I sit by a window waiting impatiently to see their car drive up our road. It’s not that I worry, no, I am just anxious to wrap my arms around them and make my mother’s heart happy.

When Dale was in the Navy and the ship was scheduled to come in, I would be one of the first ones to the dock, with the girls, waiting for my ship to come in. They would be in a battle group and the destroyers would come in together. Dale’s ship had markings on it that distinguished itself as the one I was looking for. I would watch the bay waiting to see it. Minutes passed like hours and often, since it was way before cell phones or computers we depended on a recorded message to give an approximate time of arrival. Often too, the time was delayed at the last minute and I would be stuck with two hungry children wanting to be home instead of on a windy pier.

Lately I have had the song “The King is Coming” going through my mind. Along with that oldie but goodie I have had “I’ll Fly Away” in my mind. I haven’t sung either in a very long time, but both make me so excited.

There is one arrival I am anxiously awaiting. I have been looking forward to this one since 1977. “Don’t let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, and trust also in me. 2 There is more than enough room in my Father’s home. If this were not so, would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you? 3 When everything is ready, I will come and get you, so that you will always be with me where I am.” John 14:1-3 (NLT)

Today as I walked, I looked into the bright blue sky that was dotted by just a few clouds. It’s a glorious fall day out. I love these kind of days. The leaves are starting to turn yellow and red and enough leaves have fallen in the woods around our house that I could see a bit of the paths the deer walk.

This was a wonderful walk and I thought, the Lord could return today. We don’t know when He will arrive, don’t know the day, the hour or minute. Only our Father in Heaven knows. So, today, I realized that even for this event I am impatiently waiting. Wondering how close that trumpet will sound, how long until I can run to Jesus and throw my arms around Him making this heart of mine so very glad.

Gift of Friends

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“As iron sharpens iron, so a friend sharpens a friend.” Proverbs 27:17 (NLT)

When Dale and I moved to the upstate of South Carolina, I was amazed at how many people had friends for decades. Families were close together and able to visit one another. People have family Sunday meals with one another. Friends go back to childhood in many cases.

I know such things exist, but basically being in military towns we often were the ones who were a bit different. Our family was distant. Old friends were distant. It was something we are used to.

Today we had ladies Bible Study at church. Afterwards we all went to lunch together. As I sat there I listened to conversations. There was history in each conversation. I loved that.

After leaving San Diego we struggled to feel like we belonged. We were used to our way of life. We had our church and church family. We were a tight knit family. We all knew each other’s history. We had seen the good side and the not so good side of each other. We knew one another and there was a history with us.

I had actually thought when we arrived here that the feeling of belonging would not happen again. I was settled in that thought. The Lord proved me wrong when we first walked into our church. I have never felt the love and acceptance so quickly as I did with this group of people.

So, today, as I listened to the other women talk, I realized that, although we have only been here eight years, I belonged. This group of women have held me up, made me laugh, given me joy, prayed for me and became an extended family to me.

I am so grateful for my friends here. They are truly a gift.

A Mother grows up

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Mothers nurture, it’s an instinctive trait in most women. I know it was for me. When mothers are born, it is an unbelievable event. You look at the little baby in your arms and all of a sudden you are a mother badger. That has always been my animal of choice in describing my need to defend and protect my daughters.

As the children grow, which they do quickly, mothers lag behind. I know personally I have straggled behind, not willing to catch up. I have dragged my feet, declaring that I still need to be there for my daughters in all areas. Not necessary, really.

Yes, I know that I will always be Mom to them. I will be available for them if they truly need me.

This week as I started to send our youngest daughter an anniversary card I looked at the card. On the front is a lasso type rope around the words Happy Anniversary. I picked out the card because their wedding had sort of a cowboy theme underneath the southwestern beauty of their wedding. Mentally I looked at the card and knew it just happened a few months ago.

No, fourteen years ago this evening (October 2nd) we watched as our daughter went from Miss to Mrs.. It happened quickly and yet I could see the moment that she was no longer just ours, but his.

When I realized that it was their 14th anniversary I retrieved Dale’s and mine wedding book. Inside I have what we did for the first 20 anniversaries. I wrote just a few words each years as reminders. Under the year 14 for us, I wrote, Dale in Rhode Island, Cathi in San Diego. Dale and I recounted the events around our 14th anniversary. His Dad had passed away in early January that year. We went to Pennsylvania and hours after the funeral we drove Dale to Pittsburgh so he could fly to Rhode Island for a school for the Navy. I stayed with his Mom for a couple of days and flew home to our girls.

Looking on the list I noticed how many anniversaries he was somewhere and not together. Such is life as a Navy couple.

As Dale and I talked about our fourteenth anniversary, we talked about how old, wise and mature we were. Without noticing the proverbial brick landed on my head. A Mother grew up.

It hit me. The young woman that we watched 14 years ago is not the same woman she is now. She is a wife, a mother herself, half of a couple who have been through and survived much in this short time. My baby is grown up. It is now time for me to grow up.

I no longer need to fret over her. Yes, I can always love her and worry, but I no longer need to be that helicopter, wondering how she is, and what is going on. I can watch from a distance knowing she has this.

I once bemoaned the fact that the girls did not call daily. Dale looked at me as only a father and husband can and simply said, “Didn’t you raise them to be strong, independent women?” I answered that I did. He then said to me, “Then what’s the problem? You did well.”

So, as I start on this path of a grown up Mom, I look to our Lord. I have known their whole lives that I have only been blessed for a season with them, but our Lord is their Lord. He will be the One to guide and direct them. He provided strong men of God for my girls. He has blessed them in many ways. Now, this foot-dragging Mom is now getting out of the way, but not completely.

A Quiet Friday

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For most of the week we have heard about Hurricane Ian and how it was going to affect our state. It did make landfall this afternoon in some of the areas we lived in the low country and some places that we would drive through and visit.

It has done some damage and caused some flooding. Our youngest lives in Charleston and they chose to ride it out. This morning we ran some errands and went to lunch with a friend. We came home and turned on a weather live stream.

In the meantime, we texted with family in the area and realized they were all safe and sound. Thank you Lord! I was fascinated to see the footage of the area we lived in for several years and found I had fascination to try and see beyond what was being broadcast.

There comes a time when after watching for a few hours you begin to realize the storm is onshore, and the remnants are present. We have been in the area long enough to know that tornadoes are always a possibility and we must be prepared.

All the time watching television and looking occasionally to our outside seeing that it is just a rainy Friday for us. As I sit here writing, the rain is a gentle rain and the wind is breezy. I know several people are still dealing with the vicious part of this storm, without power and seeing flood waters rising. And, it may become worse for us later today and this evening.

I am reminded that none of this has escaped our Lord’s attention. I marvel at the power of the water and the storm surges. I see that trees are ripped up and easily tossed.

I am fascinated by this all. The power of nature, the beauty of it all also. Our God created nature and all it’s properties. He knows the wrath of the ocean, and the force of winds. He spoke storms into being. Along with this, our God sees the hearts of the people affected. He knows the hurt, the fear, the panic people experience. He knows each and every moment of a storm.

You could wonder why He doesn’t stop storms, why He doesn’t prevent loss, why He doesn’t speak to the wind and the water. It’s a valid thought in these times, Why?

“Are not two sparrows sold for a copper coin? And not one of them falls to the ground apart from your Father’s will. 30 But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 31 Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.” Matthew 16:29-31 (NKJV)

Our God sees all, knows all and has a plan for us all. He knows the number of hairs on our heads, and has counted those in our hairbrush. He has a plan for each one of us. He is aware of each bird that has fallen this week in this storm. He cares for them. We are so much more valuable than the birds of the air. He cares for you, and He has a plan for us in stormy weather and in calm.

Keepsakes of the Heart

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“Every time I think of you, I give thanks to my God.” Philippians 1:3 (NLT)

There are years when this day passes like every other day. The 27th of September, the month is almost over and soon October will be here. A day in the month, a day of the week.

Still other years my mind travels and my heart opens up to remind me of the keepsakes I carry there. On September 27th in 1966 my Mom passed away. It seems like ancient history most times. My sisters and I not only survived, we thrived. We continued on in our life. Yes, we met with more than a few hiccups, but we kept moving and going and are stronger today because of this event.

When the years come where this is on my mind, I sit and study the reasoning behind my thoughts. Am I okay? Do I miss my sisters? Am I on that tape of wondering the what if’s?

I am okay. I do miss my sisters, who doesn’t when we live far apart? And yes, I do compare my relationships with my daughters and wonder the what if’s in life.

The reality is, I will never know if I would have had conflict with my mother during my teen years. Neither will I know how I would have handled (or how she would have handled) my getting married young and moving away. I will wonder what kind of a grandmother she would have been. Would I have had to tell her not to spoil my girls? Yes, there are a lot of what if’s, not only because of losing a parent, but in life in general we have what if’s.

It’s been 56 years since she passed away. Breakthroughs have happened in cancer research, the world has greatly changed. We have grown up. I do wonder what she would think of cell phones and computers and flying cars, oh yeh, that hasn’t really happened yet. I got distracted.

In truth, my memories of her are keepsakes. Things to pull out on occasion and examine and look at. I am thankful for those memories. I know some are from stories and some are actual memories. She gave my sisters and I a good foundation. She gave us strength, and a sense of humor. I was once told by my Dad that I had my mother’s temper, don’t know if that’s a good thing…

So today, although the keepsakes have escaped from the vault of my heart, I am thankful she gave me life. I am thankful for what she instilled in me. I am thankful I don’t have her nose. I am thankful that for eleven years of my life I had a great Mom.

A Memory kind of day

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“Your own ears will hear him. Right behind you a voice will say, “This is the way you should go,”
  whether to the right or to the left.” Isaiah 30:21 (NLT)

Today is one of those rainy days. The kind of day where pajamas call to you and a blanket is yearning to be wrapped around you. They will have to wait a few more minutes this evening as I write this.

My mind today has been filled with snippets of memories. Japan has come to mind as has Maine and San Diego. Each memory has been brief, but poignant to me.

A family in our church has just returned from an extended mission in Asia. This morning we briefly talked about Asian food. She is hungry for food from that region. I told her we understood, as we are continuously looking for good Japanese food. It’s hard to explain what we are looking for though. It is food that first fills your senses with the greeting and the particular smell of soy, barbecuing to a certain crispness and the smell of seaweed all mingled together. It’s a scent you carry with you and in earnest we look for.

Another couple has relocated from CA, a familiar area to us. She was also part of the conversation and I mentioned Mexican food. She smiled and agreed with me. Although the south has many incredible dishes, Mexican dishes are not part of the ‘must write home about this’ category.

A little later a friend mentioned lobsters and how her eight year old son long ago asked for a lobster. We talked about the price and how it is only on a luxury meal where you get lobster. I recounted how we knew lobster-men in Maine and our oldest cut her teeth on lobster. It was a shock to her little system, when at three years old we moved from the coast of Maine to the other side of the country.

I find it funny that most memories center around food. But with meals come conversations and conversations lead to friendships and family. We always said while serving in the Navy that God cuts the orders and Uncle Sam paid for the way there. For 21 years the Lord directed our steps. He told us to turn to the left, or to the right. He guided us in the way He wanted us to go. He never failed us.

Because of this, we now have deep impressions in our minds of times and places and people He brought into our lives. The memories today are precious to me, but I confess, I wish the Lord would now direct us here to the places that food would take our taste buds back to what they remember.

51 years, a brief look back

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“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.” Jeremiah 29:11 (NLT)

51 years ago, I never really thought of this above verse. It didn’t matter to me and because of that, I gave it no thought.

In hindsight, though, I think of all that was involved in bringing things to a point 51 years ago.

First a music director from our high school needed things moved to his cottage several miles away from our city. He hired two young men from the school to help him move those things. The two young men worked hard all day long and at the end of the day, he paid them for their work.

One of the young men went home and spent the night in with his parents and siblings. The other asked to use his mother’s car for a date. He then called a young girl who actually had other plans for the night.

The young girl’s sister insisted that the girl should accept the invitation to the date.

The two high school kids went to the bowling alley, bowled three games and drank a cola.

He drove her home, kissed her and they watched the 11:00 news together. He drove home.

All of these things worked together. The night went off without a hitch and that was that.

Now, I can look back and see the hand of God in all of this. Had Dale not worked for his music director, he wouldn’t have had the money to ask me out. Had my sister not insisted I accept the offer of a date, I would have gone to another fire-hall dance with my friend and gone home. I have no idea what would have been the alternate of that evening fifty one years ago today.

At the time I had no idea that it would be my last first date. I had no idea it would be my last first kiss. I had no idea that one date would be the beginning of my future. It’s funny how moments can pass innocently and we never think it was really a momentous moment.

Yet, God knew the plans He had for me. Plans for a future and a hope. Plans for good even when we goofed up and went on another path that could lead to disaster. God had a plan. I have often questioned this plan. When on my own with two young children and a deployment being extended several times over, when times were lean and months were long, when sickness or broken bones occurred and the Navy had my support system on the other side of the world.

Yet, today, I see that all of these plans were right for us. We have grown up together. We have stretched each other many times. We have challenged one another, each holding our ground firmly.

Through it all, God has seen us through. 51 years ago was our first date, thank you Mr. Runzo for that $40 you paid the guys. Thank you Mom for letting Dale use your car. Thank you Dottie for suggesting bowling instead of the fire-hall dance. Little did we know you were all part of a bigger plan.

“And be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” Matthew 28:20b (NLT)

Pardon Me, My human-ness is showing

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 “For everyone has sinned; we all fall short of God’s glorious standard.” Romans 3:23

Yes, this is my scripture for me today. You know those days where it is much better to go hide and tape your mouth shut? That’s today. That’s me. Full disclosure, complete honesty.

We all have those days, we all regret those days. I could blame it on the two Krispie Kreme donuts I had earlier, but no, I cannot. I really cannot blame it on anything except me being me.

On days like this, it seems my mouth engages and goes on and on and I stand and look at myself and wonder where that person came from. I thought when I got to be my age, I would have tackled and conquered these actions. Guess not. I can blame a lot of things as the reason for letting my tongue get the best of me, but that would not be correct.

But, what it does shake into me is my need for the Lord. I need to repent of my lashing out and I need to ask for forgiveness from Dale.

So, today I go to a scripture that I need to learn, “It’s better to live alone in the corner of an attic than with a quarrelsome wife in a lovely home.” Proverbs 21:9 (NLT)