Doldrums

Doldrums: a state or period of inactivity, stagnation, or slump (Merriam-Webster)

On July 5th, 1977, we headed to the base in Yokosuka Japan and rented a day sailor sailboat for the afternoon. There were three of us on this adventure, Dale, myself and a friend of ours.

We checked out the boat and headed out. The day was sunny as were our moods. There was a breeze and the little boat danced upon the waves. We were having a wonderful experience. We talked, laughed and just enjoyed watching the slight white caps on the bay.

We sailed that way for a good hour. We knew we had plenty of time before we had to return our rental. The sun was lovely, the temperature was perfect. The wind was continual and water splashed gently onto the sides as we glided along.

About an hour after leaving shore the wind died down. Then the wind stopped. It was quiet except the lapping of the waves on the side of the sailboat. We bounced on the waves knowing the wind would pick back up. We thought we would be heading back soon and enjoying our adventure again.

These little sailboats did not come with a motor. They had oars. We sat for a while, waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Conversation ebbed. Time passed. We were dead in the water. The gentle rocking of the boat caused us to drift a bit.

Eventually the oars were picked up. In our glee of being on the bay with a great wind we paid no attention to how far we sailed. The trip back to shore was going to be long, especially rowing.

The guys were determined and rowed toward shore. The trip back to shore was quiet. The joy of the beginning of our trip was replaced by resolve. The afternoon sun was turning into dusk as we came to the dock. The wind had completely disappeared that afternoon.

You need wind in your sails to move. When the wind dies you are left with no motivation.

The same is true in life. There are times where the laughter stops and the quiet begins. The energy level subsides. The noise turns to a deafening silence. We can become adrift.

This sounds ominous unless we have an anchor. An anchor will keep us from drifting far away from where we are supposed to be. My Anchor is Christ. When I face the doldrums, I turn to Him. He knows me inside and out. He knows when my sails are flat and lifeless. He understands that part of me. He holds me close until He knows I am ready to lift from my position and then gently, ever so gently, He will ruffle my sail giving me a tailwind.

“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 (NLT)

Daybreak

“Tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it… Yet.” (Lucy Maude Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables)

Tomorrow always (for me) begins at daybreak. The sun rises and it is like the earth is covered in hope. The shadows of the night are erased and the world awakens.

Daybreak brings hope, promise and a renewed presence of God in our lives. He shines forth, allowing our eyes to focus on our surroundings. We are never promised tomorrow, but each day is like a gift that unwraps itself with the dawning of the sun.

The past week I have had a dear friend visiting. She is retired now and is about to venture into a new life. A new adventure. She is moving here. I am grateful to our Lord for this gift to me.

I often think of the Girl Scout song, “Make new friends, but keep the old. Some are silver, some are gold.” These words have followed me for a very long time. Golden friends take a while for their patina to become evident in your life. At first, they are the new friends. Soon they are the old friends. Eventually they show their shine in a silvery way and then that patina is gold. Such is this friend moving here.

Change happens throughout our lives. Each season of change is a challenge. This week I have been reminded that roads are now familiar to me. It wasn’t long ago that I looked out the car window like she has this week. Everything is strange. The difference from the metropolitan area of San Diego to the quiet of upstate South Carolina is vast. I have watched and remembered when I was where she is now. Excitement mixed with a longing. Knowing a change is needed but questioning if this drastic of a change is where the Lord is leading her.

How often in our lives does our Lord bring us to a cross road? We tend to go the direction we have gone for years. We know the ruts. We know the dips and bumps. We know what to avoid. There is comfort in the known.

Sometimes the Lord, at those crossroads puts up a road block. Un-passable. We can’t continue the way we have always gone. We look at the other side and think how strange it is. Sort of like those fairy tales where the heroine ventures down the path where we know the big, bad wolf is waiting.

But God… He knows that it may be strange, different, scary, but He also knows the other path is an adventure. A tomorrow with no mistakes.

When God is in charge of our plans, the daybreaks bring joy. Hope. Promise of fresh starts, new adventures, His plan for our lives.

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)

My Saturday

“Everyone must submit to governing authorities. For all authority comes from God, and those in positions of authority have been placed there by God.” Romans 13:1 (NLT)

I woke up this morning with a list repeating itself in my mind. I have a physical list also on the couch with a few things crossed off.

The list is things that I want to be done before Tuesday of this week. We have a friend arriving for a two week visit and like most people we are taking this opportunity to get things we have put off, done.

Tuesday is also election day here. I get excited about election days. I am weird like that. I study and make certain I know how I am going to vote. After I cast my vote, I am like a kid with getting my “I voted sticker.”

But, back to my day. I woke up this morning and I sat down for my quiet time. I always pray before my quiet time and today was no different, except my prayer. I asked the Lord that my eyes would see what He wanted me to see, and not just my physical eyes, but my spiritual ones too. I didn’t think much more about it and read the second chapter of I John.

After coffee and quiet time I began to get ready to clean our carpets. I picked up all the things on the floor, putting them on the couch or chairs or tables. It’s a mess. Our kitchen looks like a disaster happened. The floors are filthy because we have a white floor in our kitchen. It is the bane of my existence. It has rained all week long and since we live rural, well, you get the idea. My floor is desperate for a good scrubbing. I have waited since we are cleaning the carpets, the floor is going to get more stuff on it today.

All of the above I’m doing while still in my pajamas. Ever have one of those days where you putter around the house in jammies?

After getting much accomplished and ready for the carpet cleaning, the doorbell rang. It was the side door where close friends and family come in. It is also where packages get delivered. I went to answer it since I figured it was the mail person dropping off a package.

As I got to the door I looked and saw that it was our State Representative, Travis Moore. Remember the pajamas I am still in? Tuesday is election day? House looks so messy, like we never clean? And, there, at my door, is the man seeking reelection. I recognized his face before I read his shirt that had his name on it. As I heard Dale and myself welcome him into our house, I was stunned that this was happening.

He spent a good half hour talking with us. He gave us time to ask and address issues. I was at peace and felt like I could have hugged him. But, pajamas, dirty house…

As we ate lunch after the visit, Dale and I talked about things we should have done. We should have asked how we could help him. We should have prayed for him. We talked about what we could have done, but didn’t.

As the minutes passed I remembered my prayer this morning. That I would see, that I would hear, and that I would act on those things.

Authority comes from the Lord. We need to respect those in authority, and yes, sometimes I struggle with this.

I had an object lesson today. An important one for me. As gracious as this candidate was with us. He didn’t look around and decide not to talk with us, or talk down to us. He listened, he explained, he talked with us, not at us. In this same way, of acceptance our Lord comes to us.

When our lives are a mess. When our hearts are cluttered and dirty. When we are in need of a cleansing, our Lord is there at the ready to accept us, to cleanse us from our filth. He waits to be invited in.

This also reminded me that someday our Lord is going to knock on our door, are we going to welcome Him in just as we are? Or, will we say, “just a minute, let me change my clothing, let me clean my house?” Great object lesson today Representative Moore, you thought you were just canvassing, didn’t you?

A Child Who Needs Snuggles

And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven like a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. I heard a loud shout from the throne, saying, “Look, God’s home is now among his people! He will live with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.” Revelation 21:2-4 (NLT)

I read this verse today and a couple of things came to my mind.

The first thought I had was me clinging onto God (at least the image I have in my mind). I was wrapped in His arms and breathing deeply. I was snug and secure and I knew if /when I am in that position, I truly will want to stay there forever.

That thought was followed by a second thought, a memory, actually. I remember being young and following my Mom around. I was so close to her that if she stopped, I would run into her, or I would get bumped on my forehead by her elbow. In the echoes of my mind, I could remember her saying to me, “For God’s sake, Cathi, give me some room.” Actually, I would hear her say this several times a day, and I was that clingy child.

Fast forward many years and I had a child that would follow closely to me. I remember bumping her forehead with my elbow. Immediately, I laughed. I knew the Lord had answered my Mother’s prayer of me having a child like myself. I loved the closeness of that child to me, how she would snuggle.

As is usual for me, my mind trailed off as I thought of all of this. For those who make God their Savior and Lord, He is the One we run to. The One we can follow closely. The One whom we can run into upon a sudden stop. He longs for us to be that clingy child. He wants us to climb into His lap for a snuggle so deep and long that our hearts calm, our tears are wiped away and we are comforted and at peace.

As we spend time with Him throughout our day, praying, reading or worshiping Him, we can experience those snuggles. But, I cannot wait to experience this fully. When He calls me home and I can run to Him, jump into Him like my grandchildren do when they see me. And finally and forever have my tears wiped away for good. What a perfect day that will be.

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.

What is Your Garden Like?

And when He had sent them away, He departed to the mountain to pray.” Mark 6:46 (NKJV)

Yesterday we sang the hymn “I Come to the Garden Alone”. I have sang this song for years. I have read cute stories of children asking who Andy is, and parents discovering that it is this hymn they are talking about, confusing the words, And He for Andy. “And He walks with me, and He talks with me, And He tells me I am His own;” Often when I hear this song, I think of that story.

I love gardens. When I think of a prayer garden I imagine a beautiful spot in the middle of a lush growing garden of flowers. There is either a bench in the middle or a swing. It is sweet and peaceful in my mind. Or the other scenario I think of a garden is the picture we have seen since we were little of the garden Jesus went to before his arrest. I see a spot with a large stone where you can lean upon and pray. Of course, in reality, this would not do for me. I would be hesitant to lean upon a rock not knowing if a snake of any sort would be sunning itself on it. Plus, kneeling on the ground where creepy crawlers could crawl up on you is not my thing.

In my reality I have no official garden. I sing the first stanza, “I come to the garden alone while the dew is still on the roses.” I love roses, but I have no roses. I can point to the places where I have attempted growing roses and then point to deer who have eaten my roses until they do not exist.

So, in truth, I have no actual garden. Or, so I thought.

Our worship leader yesterday paused before singing this song. She had been struggling with the meaning of the second verse, “I’d stay in the garden with Him Though the night around me be falling, But He bids me go; through the voice of woe His voice to me is calling.” She went on to describe how the voice of woe is not sadness, but like grandparents are sad to see their grandchildren depart, they know they will return, but tears are shed at their departure. Then as the grandchildren depart, the grandparents will stand in the doorway or driveway and wave to them.

As she spoke, this picture came to mind. This is Little Man when he was Little (he is now a young man). He was going back home and grabbed my hand and told me we needed to hide so he could stay with me. I picked him up and we walked outside. While we said our typical good byes that take almost as long as the visit, he snuggled in, determined not to leave. I can remember the tears in my eyes as he was held. I did not want him to go.

This is how our worship leader described how our Lord feels when we come to Him. I will never forget her words.

It was then that I realized I do have a garden. It is my driveway where I walk laps. It is the place of prayer. It is where, when I am having a tough day I go to even if I have already walked that day. It is where, when I walk out the door, I begin to talk with Jesus.

What does your garden look like?

Case of the Grumpies

 “My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing.” James 1:2-4 (NKJV)

I woke up this morning and it wasn’t until a couple hours later that I discovered that I woke on that proverbial wrong side of the bed.

Inside I was agitated. Outside I was short in my words.

We did our Costco run and although that usually cheers me up, it didn’t today. I dreaded going home to put things away and rearrange things and just ‘deal’ with the groceries.

I put most of the things away and decided I needed to check the mail. Sitting beside the mailbox was our garbage can, still full, still waiting to be picked up. Going up the driveway I decided to yell about it all to God. I grumbled about the trash. I grumbled that my freezer needs to be defrosted. I just grumbled.

I heard a small, gentle voice asking me to define it all. True, I could not do anything about the trash, we had called them and they promised they were on their way. Yes, the freezer is on me, and I accepted that. I ended my rant with I’m just so tired.

I retrieved the mail. Just one piece. A card addressed to me. A birthday card from our insurance agent. I glanced at the card and started to mumble about it being late. Instead, I changed my tone and said, that’s nice, even if it was late. I opened the card and inside was a post it note saying, “I am sorry this is so late, please accept this little token from me.”

Attached to the post-it note was a gift card for a quick stop store. This actually caught my breath.

I felt humbled. God blesses us even when He is making a point about attitudes.

The Grumpies have disappeared.

Old Photos

“You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous— Psalm 139:13-14 (NLT)

Tomorrow I am starting to teach a Bible Study on God Knows… I am going to reference this scripture. First of all, anytime I teach, my mind goes to the future and I see myself in front of the Lord. We are seeing my life and He stops the reel when I am teaching. The scenario in my mind is, He stops the reel, looks at me and asks, “What were you thinking?” This is said incredulously .

I usually pray a lot during those times!

In preparation for tomorrow, I was looking through old pictures. I mean the old black and white with the curly edges on the photos.

I smiled at many of them and just stared at others. The ones I stared at were of myself. There are two options about my pictures of growing up.

1. I was a dorky kid.

2. My parents had a warped sense of humor in taking pictures.

Personally, I think it is a combination of both. My poses were either with my head tilted to such a degree that it looked like a random head resting on a shoulder. And, yes, I still tilt my head like that, although with age, it’s just a head tilt.

My other poses are just as random. Legs and feet firmly planted on the ground almost looking like a gorilla standing upright, making faces , eyes crossed and tongue out. Some, though, are attempts at being a girl with minor manners. How I ever got a date in high school is beyond me! Must have been the Lord.

I can be very critical of myself as I think most of us are. In the end, though, we need to remember that we were carefully and lovingly created by a God who loves us. He created us, dorkiness and all.

Looking through the photos today brought back memories, good and bad. I could smell the air in the background. I can remember the fun. Time continues on and snapshots of our life will come to us at different times. We will remember parents, uncles, aunts, siblings, cousins. Echoes of the past linger deep within us. Memories are a scrapbook of our lives.