Category: Memories

Hide and Seek

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“Seek the Lord while He may be found, Call upon Him while He is near.” Isaiah 55:6 (NKJV)

There is nothing like a good game of hide and seek, especially if you are good at hiding.

When Little Miss was in kindergarten, the schools were virtual. Once while visiting her, during that time frame, we watched as she struggled with a new situation in her young life. She was starting school, but still she was at home with snacks readily available and toys near by. It was an odd time.

When she had a lunch break which was for at least 45 minutes to an hour, she would eat her lunch and then we’d play hide and seek with her Mom. Grampy also joined in. It was a fun adventure in the middle of a peculiar day.

I loved it when I could hide. I am pretty good at hiding. Most of the time, Little Miss had to seek me for a bit. It was so much fun. Her Mom and I would talk later about hiding spots and the best times we had hidden ourselves.

This morning during my quiet time I thought of the game of hide and seek. It occurred to me that I often play the game with God. Sometimes I hide from Him, thinking that He won’t find me. I know that sounds ridiculous, as the One who created the universe and everyone in it, couldn’t readily find me.

But, like playing with a young child, you give them grace. Although they may be hiding in plain sight, you pass by them questioning where they may be. Eventually with giggles resounding they will reveal themselves.

How often are we like little children when we try to hide from God? The difference, though, is when we reveal ourselves it is with repentance and tears.

In the great scheme of things, when we grow distant from God, we think He is hiding. We wonder why we do not hear Him, we do not see Him in our daily lives. We question why the distance from Him is so great. Actually, God does not hide from us. We fail to see Him. He is daily visible, in the outdoors, in our family, in our friends. He gloriously reveals Himself in every aspect of our lives.

Psalm 9:10 says, “And those who know Your name will put their trust in You; For You, Lord, have not forsaken those who seek You.” (NKJV)

The Balancing Act of Christmas

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“For unto us a Child is born, Unto us a Son is given; And the government will be upon His shoulder.
And His name will be called Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”Isaiah 9:6 (NKJV)

Christmas is for children. But it is for grown-ups too. Even if it is a headache, a chore, and nightmare, it is a period of necessary defrosting of chill and hide-bound hearts. ~Lenora Mattingly Weber (1895–1971)

The pulling of the heart and conscience starts. The heart wants to decorate and fill the home with garland and festive balls and bulbs. Go shopping and buy things to wrap with beautiful ribbon and paper. But the heart also yearns to keep the celebration about the birthday of the Christ.

We place our manger scenes near the tree to remind us that Christmas is not just in baubles and bows. But does it truly work?

This week I begin to decorate. The past year the toy room has been a haven for seasonal decorations that have been tossed in and not properly put away. I keep telling myself it will make it easier to get things out. I also chide myself for being so lazy that I haven’t put stuff away properly.

Today one wreath was hung on our front door. Thanksgiving decorations lay on the end table waiting to be lugged upstairs. The battle has begun for me.

Just looking at this tires me out, yet another part of me is thrilled. Christmas can truly be a battle. Yet, it is one that I happily face each year.

As far as decorating, I both dread it and cannot wait for it. This year is no different. I know that the decorations do not make Christmas better, but to me, they are a reminder that we are celebrating the greatest gift ever given to man. We are preparing to remember His birth. I am reminded that His life gave us a precious gift of salvation, and no other gift can top that. But, we can give a gift to those we love as a gesture and commemoration of that gift.

I strive each day of December to be balanced in my celebration. Yes, I love those Christmas songs about reindeer and red noses, I love to hear about Grandma being run over by an errant reindeer, I remember wanting those two front teeth. These are all part of the month.

I also try not to scream humbug! as my feet tingle after a day of shopping. I do sing to my daughters after I have purchased the first gift of the season. Christmas is coming… the goose is getting fat… I half hope it annoys them and reminds them of me singing to them in the car picking them up at school.

Christmas is a battle of all things. Celebration, remembrance, times of grief, times of loneliness, times of worship, times of glee. It’s compounded into four weeks of whirlwind activity.

I hope this year to avoid a battle and take each day and fill it with balance. To be like the Grinch and have my heart grow three times larger, or like Scrooge and carry Christmas all year.

“I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly.” John 10b (NKJV)

The Creek

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Last Friday, Little Miss wanted to go on a nature walk. I went with her. As we walked out the door, she headed up the driveway and I said, “Let’s go through the woods.”

She gladly obliged, and talked and talked and talked and talked. It was glorious! Halfway down the hill, I asked if she could see the creek. She excitedly looked up at me and said, “You have a creek?” I had thought she would have remembered.

I then realized that I hadn’t been down to the creek in a couple of years, and she was carried on her Mom’s back the last time she was down.

The dull nature walk turned into an adventure for her. She was so excited to know her grandparents owned a place that had a creek running through the property. She was fascinated by the little water falls and the bigger ones that had been carved by the water running down through the woods. It opened a whole new door for her.

The next day she took down a ‘man’ she had made from twigs so that she could send him down the little water falls and off into the great creek unknown. Her Dad accompanied us, which I was thrilled about. He was able to really play in the creek with her, as I know I would have ended up in the water or slipping on a rock, landing face first looking at the creek rushing by me.

Once more I re-learned the lesson of seeing the world through a child’s eye. The world is an exciting place to be when we stop to remember and to look. My son in law and I began to reminisce about our creek adventures when we were kids. Standing at the edge of the water, talking , two different generations and watching the third generation experience similar times as we had.

Children are indeed a blessing. I remember watching the kids in my class in Japan. It was such a novelty to me to be in a foreign classroom, teaching my native tongue. In front of me were children. They would have the same antics I had seen and participated in as a student. They drew a picture of their sensei on the board, it was not flattering. They played football (or most likely soccer) with folded pieces of paper. They played the game with string, cat’s cradle, wrapping them around their fingers into different shapes, hoping to stump their game partner.

I was amazed that kids were kids all around the world. I once more saw that in my Little Miss as she played like her dad did, her mom did and her grandparents did.

Children teach in their lives. I have learned so much from the children in my life. I am grateful for the refresher I had this past week.

“13 Then little children were brought to Him that He might put His hands on them and pray, but the disciples rebuked them. 14 But Jesus said, “Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of heaven.” Matthew 19: 13-14 (NKJV)

Good, good Father

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“Father to the fatherless, defender of widows— this is God, whose dwelling is holy.
6 God places the lonely in families;” Psalm 68:5-6a (NLT)

Shortly after my Dad died, I saw this scripture and it ministered to me. My Dad was a good Dad. He had his faults, but, so do we all. I know that he did the best he could raising three daughters in an era that raising children was usually the Mom’s job. I often reflect on how he must have felt and what he faced mentally when he landed into the single parent household. But, my sisters and I not only survived, we flourished.

What this scripture spoke to me was that although my earthly father had passed away, I had a heavenly Father who was my father. He was there to talk with, to lean on, to rely on. His wisdom is unmatchable. His peace and comfort is limitless. He is God the Father and He is my Father.

Yesterday at church we sang Chris Tomlin’s song, Good,Good Father (click on the title for a listen). As I sang the words I was reminded of the above scripture. I thought of my Dad. Then I heard, “You saw an example of a good father this week.”

I did see an example of a good father this week. Little Miss was here and I watched daily the interaction between her and her Dad. My son-in-law loves his daughter(s) with an enduring love. He is strong when they need it. He is playful. He is stern when it is needed. He corrects at the right time also. Yes, he is not perfect, but none of us are.

What I saw was a man who is fully invested in Little Miss’ future. He is working out plans for her, allowing her to grow and experience things, sometimes the hard way, some times a bit easier. But he is consistent, steady and available.

When you think of it, he is showing an example of what our Heavenly Father is like. (Besides the imperfection part).

The Lord is a good, good Father. It is who He is. He is perfect in all ways. He has a plan for us. He has a future for us. He will never leave us, nor turn His back on us. His hands reach out to us for comfort, security, wisdom and yes, correction.

Most importantly, He loves us. He knows our name. He knows the number of hairs on our head, even those in the sink and in our hairbrushes. He is my good, good Father.

Thanksgiving Week #3

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“Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. 7 Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:6- (NLT)

I grew up in a small town. It was an idyllic town, where everyone knew everyone and it was safe. I thought I always wanted to stay there and be content.

Then, I married a sailor. My life was transformed on that day, I left the security of my small hometown. I was literally plunged into strange environments. Being from the North, going to the South was confusing to me. I had no footing, nothing was familiar.

From the South, we moved to Japan. Now, that was really confusing to me, but somehow it was much more comforting than our first duty station together. The Lord began to work in me.

Eventually, we ended up in Southern California. We watched the city grow from a dirty navy town into a metropolitan area. With the growth came the influx of the homeless. I know there are many reasons for homelessness, and I am not going to go into that topic. I just mention this to make a point.

Upon seeing those who were destitute, I realized how fortunate I am. Too often we take for granted those things around us. A roof over our heads, heat that can be turned on and off, shoes for our feet, blankets to sleep under, beds to sleep on. I often remind myself of the blessings I have.

I may not have the best of all things, but, this Thanksgiving Day I am certain of this. For all that I do have, I am grateful. For the meal that I will eat, I am grateful. For the family around the table, I am grateful.

In this season of glitter and lists and shopping, I am thankful for what I will be able to do, who I will be able to bless in some way.

Lord, on this Thanksgiving Day, thank You for Your glorious provisions. You know that I have come to You many times asking for peace, for reassurance, for comfort. You also know that You remind me of the bountiful blessings that surround me. So, today, Lord, let those who are frightened, cold, and unsure be touched by those who will minister to them. Keep the cold warm, the discouraged, encouraged, and those without hope, shine into their lives. Help me to do what I can willingly. Let me reflect Your glory. Amen.

Thanksgiving Week #2

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“Thank God for this gift too wonderful for words!” 2 Corinthians 9:15 (NLT)

My Little Miss came in Tuesday night. She is spending the weekend with us along with her parents. When you are a grandparent, seeing your grands is what it’s all about. I can be hugging and playing with Little Miss (Little Man also) for a half hour before I realize the child I brought into the world is standing there waiting for a hug.

I never thought that grandchildren would have as much impact on me as they do. Little Man was our first grandchild. He grasped onto my heart and has had a squeeze on it for the past 10 years. When I get to have time with him, it is like my heart continues to beat in a rhythm that I didn’t know was missing. Our eyes will meet and it is an instant call to be goofy together, much to the chagrin of his parents. But, goofiness is our love language, except when we can take a walk just the two of us. I love those times.

Little Miss is another story, she not only squeezes my heart, she takes a piece of it with her whenever we part, making certain that piece is covered in glitter and glue. Having raised two girls, I fall back into the pattern that little girls have. Their activity is like jumping on mattresses. You bounce different ways each time you land. It is full of giggles and nonsense and plans.

After Little Miss I was introduced to my bonus grands. Again, two girls. I carefully stepped into the relationships. I did not want to ruffle feathers and be a nuisance. After a couple years, I just barged in and claimed them as my own. To my surprise I was warmly welcomed and loved. With the bonus came bonus great grandchildren, a boy and a girl.

My heart is full. As I thought of my family today, I realized what a wonderful gift my loving Father in heaven has given me. My life is fuller and brighter. My prayer life tripled, but, as the Lord has guided and kept my daughters, I know He will be the loving and caring guide to the next generation.

Thanksgiving is a time to reflect and remember what we are thankful for. Today, I am so grateful for this family the Lord has built around me.

Marietta

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“But Ruth replied, “Don’t ask me to leave you and turn back. Wherever you go, I will go; wherever you live, I will live. Your people will be my people, and your God will be my God. 17 Wherever you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord punish me severely if I allow anything but death to separate us!” Ruth 1:16-17 (NLT)

Today a friend on facebook posted something about mother-in-laws. She went on to say that she loved her mother in law and considered her a friend.

This prompted me to think of my mother-in-law. Dale and I dated for three years, and were engaged for eleven more months before getting married. So, we have been together a long time.

At first, his mother was not too fond of me. We always say that was because I was a ‘city’ girl and Dale was a country boy she had her doubts. I know that really made no difference to his mom, but we tried to figure out why I was not liked right away.

Time did improve our relationship and by time that engagement ring was slipped onto my finger his Mom and I were friends. We were young when we got engaged. Young when we married. Yet, this woman accepted me and loved me.

Since she had no daughter and I had no mother, I invited her to be with me on many of the plans for our wedding. She actually picked out my wedding gown, which makes it even more special to me.

Through the years we laughed often. Got in trouble with our husbands a lot. Got lost together as neither of us has/had a keen sense of direction.

My memories of her are rich. I miss her mirthful laughter, it was almost musical. Her tenderness toward the Lord spoke volumes to me. She could not pray or talk about God without tears streaming down her cheeks.

I have often said I had three mothers growing up. My own Mother who brought me into the world and taught me the foundations of life. My older sister who guided me through my teen years (I personally think she had the hardest shift) and my mother in law who taught me how to be a wife and mother. My life is full and complete from these three women.

The verse above is how I felt about my mother in law. She was my own personal Naomi. Most women are blessed to have one mother who has nurtured and guided them, I had three.

The day after Dale and I married, we stopped to pick up our rental truck filled with my belongings and our wedding gifts. As we walked into her kitchen, she asked me to go to the basement with her. She had canned and made jam for us the previous fall and needed help carrying things upstairs. When we were alone in the basement, I hesitantly asked what I should call her as, up until that time she was Mrs.Thomas. Since we were both now Mrs. Thomas, I knew I could not continue to call her that. She looked at me, and said, “you can call me Marietta, or Etta, or (and she paused) you could call me Mom.” It had been almost 9 years since I had called anyone that name. I looked at her and said, “Okay, Mom.”

As we hugged good-bye to leave for our new life in Virginia, she squeezed me extra hard and that mother-daughter bond was formed.

It has been over thirty years since she passed, but today thoughts of her have flooded my mind. My life has been enriched by the woman who gave me her son.

Veteran’s Day

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“Praise the Lord, who is my rock. He trains my hands for war and gives my fingers skill for battle.” Psalm 144:1 (NLT)

When I was in high school I would participate in selling poppies on Veteran’s Day. They weren’t real poppies, but little red flowers that were poppies.

I would stand in front of a store downtown, with poppies in one hand and a can in the other. People passing by would stop, give a donation and take a poppy. Older men would stop, and devoutly take a flower and lovingly put the flower in their lapel.

At the time, I thought it was a weird thing to do, but as I was in a community serving group, we would do this for the local VFW. Some years it was pleasant, and some years the bitter November air would rush down Seneca Street chilling you to the bone.

I knew my Dad and my uncles were all veterans. They all served in the war. They each had stories, that were talked about briefly to each other. There were also hushed tones when they remembered their brother who passed from war wounds.

They were referred to as the greatest generation. To me, as one in high school, I did not realize or understand the depth of what they experienced or endured.

I neglected to ask questions as I didn’t think it was important. I have my Dad’s papers from his time in the service. An uncle who was in the Navy gave me some memorabilia from his time in Subic Bay. As a Navy wife at the time, he felt I would enjoy them. I do.

Veterans write a check with their lives at some point. They serve, they give and they sacrifice. I was broken in easily when I married my sailor. We were together, with no deployments for the first few years of our marriage. We explored the places we went.

We explored Japan, we had our time together to see places my uncles fought against. We lived in occupation era housing along with the bugs and rats and brick bathtubs. We relished each day we were together. I began to understand the military.

It wasn’t until the early 80’s that I began to truly realize what sacrifice and deployment meant.

This photo taken the day Dale returned after eight and a half months, sealed forever what sacrifice is. Not just for the veteran, but, for the families. His expression at seeing his daughter after such a long time brings tears to my eyes still. I was standing out of view with our youngest in my arms. It was his first meeting his baby girl who was five months old.

In case I might have forgotten the meaning of what a veteran is, our daughter, pictured above became a Navy wife. She endured several deployments with a baby, like her Mom. He is now a Veteran. Having served honorably and sacrificed much, he is celebrating his second Veteran’s Day.

We owe a debt to these brave men and women. They have accomplished things that we will never hear about. They will talk to brothers in arms with the same hushed tones that my uncles did.

Today and for the next couple of days I will remember my Dad, my uncles, knowing what they accomplished on the fields in World War II. I will once more look at Dale and see that young man who swept me off on a life of adventure, and I will pray for my son in law as he continues to adjust to civilian life.

Warriors sign a blank check. The world and powers write what is owed. Our Savior understands what these men and women accomplished, as He too, came down to earth to pay the ultimate price that we may be saved. Today, look around you and truly see what is surrounding you. Freedom comes at a very high price.

Sisters

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I just looked up quotes on sisters. I thought that would be a nice way to start off this post. Unfortunately they were all saccharine sweet and I could see both of my sisters roll their eyes, followed by a , “yeh, right.” I could see that because that is what I just did.

I love my sisters. They center me and keep me grounded. After all, when you grow up with siblings your life is pretty much bare before them. It’s all fair play.

I can remember my older sister giving us encouraging talks while walking to school after our Mom died. She kept us going, she kept up our spirits. She was our cheerleader.

I also remember going into her closet after she left for high school and we still had time before my younger sister and I had to leave for our school. Her make up was free game, along with any sweaters that I could sneak on, like her pink mohair sweater.

My younger sister and I shared a room, and a bed. If one of us cried the other had the shoulder to lean on. If thunder and lightening scared one, the other was strong, even if they really weren’t inside.

I taught my younger sister to climb a tree, forgot to tell her how to get back down. We all went to movies that we didn’t tell our Dad we went to, (Bond movie, Godfather movie). We each had secrets that we shared.

Yes, one of those quotes would be nice and sweet, but the truth is that sisters (or any siblings) are much greater than a quote you can read.

My sisters could drive me crazy, I could drive them crazy. We could fight like cats and dogs, but no one better say anything about either of my sisters.

As a child, I could never figure out how my parents could be so close to my aunts and uncles.I know now, they were siblings, they knew where scars came from, how windows were broken, who ate the last piece of cake, and why things were thrown out.

Recently in one of our sister posts, I asked my younger sister a question, it made her laugh and the two older ones, we laughed. God gives us lots of gifts through a life time. I think sisters are both a precious gift and part gag gift, we know how to push buttons and make jabs that should not be made.

Today is my older sister’s birthday. The older she gets the more I love her. Yes, I do realize that the older she gets, the older I am. Our younger sister is still the baby of the family, so although she is only two years younger than me, in our minds we feel we must protect her. Plus, when I see her in my mind, she is just out of college.

My sisters have been in my heart so much lately. I am so grateful for them and for the lives we have had together and apart. Happy Birthday dearest Dottie. I wouldn’t be me without you.

Stay Classy

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Fifteen years ago as Dale and I were driving to meet friends for dinner, he announced that we would be moving. As I was the one driving in rush hour traffic on a Friday night, this was a shock to my system, especially since I almost missed our exit.

At that point, we had lived in San Diego for 25 years. We had raised our daughters there, we had had many experiences there. After hyperventilating on the freeway, I got us to the parking lot of the restaurant. I sat there looking at my husband, only able to ask, “What?”.

As we kept our friends waiting in the restaurant, Dale slowly explained what his day had held. He had had a very busy day with lots of news for him professionally. I sat holding on to the steering wheel trying to absorb what he was saying.

We were going to move, to the east coast, after 25 years. We went into the restaurant and broke the news to our friends. I still remember the conversations, the shock I felt and the anticipation that was growing in me.

The move didn’t happen right away, but it was looming in front of us. During the time of waiting, the Lord taught me many things. I was surprised that I had more than a few moments of panic at the thought of leaving. I did not expect that. We had never planned on being in California for that long. But, as I have relayed before, the Lord told us in 1982 that we would be in San Diego until He was done with us there.

As the move was delayed often, I always told others that I would believe we were moving when I say the big moving van back down our driveway.

Today, on my facebook memories I saw this, “on this day 13 years ago, After two years, the big truck backed down my driveway today… I believe it’s time to go. Stay Classy San Diego….”

I smiled to myself. I had gone to the store to get water and snacks for the day. Our house was visible from the road below coming from the store. I glanced up towards home and there, sitting in our driveway was a big moving van.

In some ways, that day seems like it happened yesterday. Sometimes it seems like we have always been here. It’s funny how memories are like that.

The Lord did move us. He orchestrated the time, the move, the lessons learned while living in our home overlooking the freeway and San Diego bay. For 24 of those years He provided beautiful sunsets out my kitchen window. The sky painted differently over the view of the Coronado bridge.

“A man’s heart plans his way, But the Lord directs his steps.” Proverbs 16;9 (NKJV)

For years I had longed for the east coast. I wanted to see seasons change. I wanted to be on the same side of the country where I was born and grew up. I did not want to grow old in San Diego.

“I” wanted many things. The Lord had a plan and in His time, He saw those plans through. We often want to rush those plans the Lord has for us. His timing is the perfect timing though. San Diego held so many trials and problems and tests for us. We were weary of it all. Now, thirteen years later, I look back and thank God for all we experienced while living there. Friends, sunsets and food is all missed. Once more the scrapbook in my mind of our life in San Diego is always available. I can open it up, remember and be thankful for all we experienced there with our Savior.

God is so good. He is faithful and just. I will rest in His plans.