Tag: family

Today I Saw a Crocus

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“Even the wilderness and desert will be glad in those days.  The wasteland will rejoice and blossom with spring crocuses.” Isaiah 35:1 (NLT)

It has been a while since I last wrote. I have had some ideas for posts, but have not written, and as is usual, discouragement has begun to set in. 

January was a long, yet quick month for me. Our oldest had another surgery and Dale and I had the privilege to be with her family. Time flies by with a nine year old around. It was a wonderfully exhausting time spent with her. 

During our time there, Dale and I celebrated our 49th anniversary. We have spent three anniversaries in that area, our first, our 48th and our 49th. Obviously, it was a time of reflection for me. The city has changed drastically since we were first married, dirt roads are now paved busy highways. The sky scape is filled with homes, high rises, and buildings. 

Seeing the city’s growth reflected my thoughts on our marriage. When we lived in the Tidewater area, we had many rough and dirt roads in our life together. We also have seen growth together. Much of our life together has been filled with reconstruction, and paving of our ways. We have been torn down like the apartments we lived in 49 years ago. We have had to restart and renew and ask for forgiveness and give forgiveness. Our life is now like the gentrified areas of the town we started out in. We have been given a fresh start and have grown to welcome and be comfortable with each other. As I looked at Dale at our anniversary dinner, I saw glimpses of the young sailor I fell in love with, but, I also saw my life, my heart.

As February came and we arrived home, I knew that there was a feeling of something deep in me. Yes, I miss my daughter and her family. I miss the noise and activity of our granddaughter. But, there was something missing.

As I walked to get our mail, a spot of yellow caught my eye. Our crocuses are blooming. Out of the cold and dormant earth, these little flowers break through. A reminder that spring is right around the corner. A little hope in a drab and dreary winter landscape, pushing past the dead leaves surrounding them.

Writing is what gives me joy. When I don’t write discouragement happens. I know I am not the best writer in the world, but it is what feeds me in a way I don’t find elsewhere. It is where I hear my Savior’s voice and encouragement. It’s where I feel His presence. 

As I walked toward our mailbox, I prayed. So many thoughts rambled through my mind, so many prayers of gratitude for this past month echoed again as they have throughout January. God is good. He is faithful. Today, He gave me words to write and a tangible sign of hope and strength. There is nothing like seeing a crocus in the middle of winter. 

What I Did on My Summer Vacation (part 1)

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“I am leaving you with a gift—peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don’t be troubled or afraid.” John 1:27 (NLT)

At the end of July, Dale and I traveled to VA Beach to our oldest daughter’s home. A few days later all of us piled into a vehicle and headed north.

A day later, we arrived at our destination, Winter Harbor, Maine. For the next week we resided in an old Navy housing area. Looking up beyond the housing area, we could see the back of the home we lived in during the early 80’s. Across the street were the former homes of friends from our time there.

Winter Harbor did not disappoint. It was as welcoming as it was decades ago. Many changes have happened, but all of them good changes.

Memories walked beside me, holding onto my hands and heart. They sang songs to me of past joy. The rugged coastline, solid and firm, spoke to me of the long lasting experiences that helped shape me into who I am today.

The cries of the gulls echoed the voice of our granddaughter as she searched for shells and climbed the rocks. The coastal roses, sweet in fragrance always caught her attention as she would stop, smell and pick one, just to keep.

Visiting with a woman, who, as a teen babysat our oldest daughter made the time there complete for me. I have often told the Lord that if I could touch at least one life in a lasting way, I would feel like I have accomplished something. Her hugs and our conversation confirmed that although her life has touched mine deeply, mine had touched hers also. We wanted to see many more people, but time, and their lives didn’t work out to see them. I carried them in my heart and remembered them at each turn.

We were stationed in Winter Harbor two years after being saved. Our relationship with our Lord was new, young. We were excited and anxious to do something, anything for him. Walking the streets again renewed that desire for me. It was coming home to me.

Winter Harbor anchored itself in me. We have lived many places in our life. Each has their own kind of special, but none compare to the hold this coastal city has on me. As we drove into town my heart leapt in me. The vistas called my name and welcomed me home.

We have been back several times, but only for a day, maybe two. A week there and I felt the roots of my life there start to take hold of me, urging me to stay. But, as my favorite poem by Robert Frost says, “The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep,” The coast is rugged and draws me to it, but, as the poem states, I have promises to keep.

So, with fresh memories made, and a tummy full of lobster and mussels and scallops, we packed up richer in spirit, and came home.

Time to Step Away

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“Then Jesus said, “Let’s go off by ourselves to a quiet place and rest awhile.” Mark 6:1 (NLT)

We all need time to go off and leave normal behind. We have that opportunity soon and I am so looking forward to it. Next week we will be in Maine.

We lived in Maine for three years in the early 80’s. Those three years were some of the best years of my life. I am anxious to once more walk and see the rock bound coast, hearing the gulls cry and seeing the waves of the mighty Atlantic Gulf of Maine come rushing up over the rocks.

I long to smell the sea air, different from other sea air with a slight briskness of the north hiding underneath the fragrance of pluff mud and seaweed. To listen to the fog horns in the distance and to look for the lights of the lighthouses.

We had planned to retire there. To live out the bulk of life there, enjoying the creative majesty of God. I think this area must be close to what Heaven is, as I am enveloped in the peace I find in the coast.

I left pieces of my heart there when we left in 1982. I am hoping to rediscover those pieces when we visit, although I know those pieces will not want to rejoin me.

We plan to visit a few people. A couple of the girls from our youth group held in our home. They babysat our oldest and stopped almost daily at our house before heading home from school. Precious women who are a testament of the ministry we had there. I long to hug them and get caught up.

We will stop in to see friends who were our mentors in our young Christian walk. They poured much into our lives and hearts. They often appeared at our door with just what we were in need of, be it hand me downs that were beautiful for our daughter or advice and teaching. We need to see them, just one more time.

It’s been 32 years since we last were there. Our oldest was 12 and now, she wants her daughter and husband to see a part of her past.

My soul recently has been downcast. My mind has raced from one thought to battle another and I am weary. I know soon I will be refreshed. I will be refreshed because I will be home this side of glory for just a few days.

“Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
2 This I declare about the Lord: He alone is my refuge, my place of safety; He is my God, and I trust Him.” Psalm 91:1-2 (NLT)

Joy

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“20 “And he arose and came to his father. But when he was still a great way off, his father saw him and had compassion, and ran and fell on his neck and kissed him.” Luke 15:20 (NKJV)

Today this scripture came to mind. My youngest and her family are on their way up now. It has been too long since we have all been together.

Although I know that this daughter is not a prodigal, what struck me was the joy the father felt seeing his son come home.

I had never thought of this scripture from the parent’s point of view. I have only seen it as the forgiveness the son received.

This morning when we heard that today was the day they would be here (colds and yuckiness has kept them away), I immediately was excited. I looked around thinking of what I wanted to do first, bake? make soup? clean up? My mind raced in anticipation.

So, now they are only a couple hours away, hopefully not in traffic. I will need to velcro myself down so that I don’t stand at the window for the next few hours.

How excited that father in the scripture must have been. He had not seen his son in years and knew the life he was leading was not right. He ran to greet his son. I do know that feeling. When my girls arrive I am almost at the door of their vehicle before the engine stops.

I will be that way again later this afternoon. Anxious to throw my arms around my Little Man. God is so good. Today is really a Merry Christmas day for me.

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.

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.

Genesis 2:1-3

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“So the creation of the heavens and the earth and everything in them was completed. 2 On the seventh day God had finished his work of creation, so he rested[a] from all his work. 3 And God blessed the seventh day and declared it holy, because it was the day when he rested from all his work of creation.” Genesis 2:1-3 (NLT)

With each day there was a boundary established by God, day, night, sea, land, seed bearing fruit, trees, birds, fish. Each creation had a boundary. Then He rested.

For the past two weeks, I have not given myself boundaries. I did not schedule time to write or really exercise. I enjoyed the company of my daughter, her husband and our Little Miss. Each day held it’s own excitement and adventures, even if it was just sitting on the couch watching television and playing restaurant. Each day gave me memories to cherish.

Now, we are home. Today I awoke with determination to get back into full swing of schedules. I have half succeeded. Laundry is finishing, most of the groceries are put away, and although writing has been on the forefront of my mind, these words are my only accomplishment.

I tend to be pretty hard on myself when I am not in a regimen. I look at numbers in my statistics on my blog, each time reminding myself that stats are just numbers. That does not always work for me, because with each number I see a person that has reached out to me. Each person who reads what I attempt to say is a gift to me, after all, they have taken time from their day to see what I have tried to say.

When my stats go to ‘0’ or ‘1’, I chide myself. I see in my mind a finger pointing at me and scolding me for not being where I think I should be. There are a lot of “I’s” in these sentences. It is then, that I remember that this blog is a gift also. My words do not come without a lot of prayer and my Lord sees the entire perspective. This blog belongs to Him and only through Him can I write.

So, after pushing myself to get back on track, fretting and stewing that I am not back where I think I should be, I have heard a gentle voice whispering, “Chill out! I’ve got this.” Followed by my thankfulness that I serve a God who understands me.

Sunday Quiet

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“There remains therefore a rest for the people of God.” Hebrews 4:9 (NKJV)

It is late Sunday afternoon. Our day has gone well, up and out of the house in time for worship practice for Dale and then church.

Church was wonderful and we left refreshed from the service. We grabbed some lunch and headed home.

This is usually what our Sundays look like. Sundays are a quiet day, no unnecessary activity, just what is needed. Naps are often part of the afternoons, and Dale slept in his chair today while I walked.

As I walked, I thought about how quickly this summer has passed by. I complain about summer, I dread it’s beginning, I dislike the heat and the humidity and I dread the season. This afternoon it occurred to me that it really doesn’t last long, my attitude towards it lasts longer.

Seasons pass by too soon. Days also. It’s nice to take time once a week to slow down. It is on Sundays that I spend much of my time thinking. Yes, I am blessed by church services, by prayer through the morning, and conversations that I have. Then, at home I think of all my should haves and could haves. My why haven’t I accomplished this, or when are you going to do this?

I blame the quiet. It gives me time to think, to ponder and to comprehend how I feel about friends and family. Sundays are the days I allow myself to think about those who are dear to me. To recognize those homesick feelings for people who live away from me.

Yes, I am thankful for quiet days. I love Sundays. I feel challenged, though, as to how to communicate with family how much I care and love them. How my heart longs to talk uninterrupted and for length. Times and seasons pass, I need to learn to put into action how to communicate and spend the time with those I love.

Guarding Relationships

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“ Stay alert! Watch out for your great enemy, the devil. He prowls around like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour.” I Peter 5:8 (NLT)

I had a conversation today that was long overdue. As we talked, this scripture came to mind.

Relationships have always been precious. Family, friends, acquaintances, church family, whoever is in your life and is a part of your life, these people are precious. They may be people who you talk with and share intimate details with, or they can be casual conversation type people, either make you who you are.

The enemy of our souls does roam around, looking to destroy and devour relationships. The love of family, the harmony of friendship, these things are in satan’s sight-line. If a family can be destroyed, he is at the ready.

I am not giving glory to him. He deserves no glory at all. But as homes are protected from wild animals, wild individuals, we need to protect and be aware of the damage that can be done in relationships. We must guard relationships.

This week I, once more, had to deal with someone from long ago. There were accusations made and things dredged up from thirty years ago. I allowed myself to become angry and let them know of my anger, but fortunately, I did not unleash my anger. I simply said, I am angry right now.

Everyone can get angry. It is what you do when you are angry that counts. Praise God, I was able to distance myself a bit. But, the the words I read and the accusations hurled in my direction affected me. I am better, but, confess there is still hurt about them. Questions have become my conversation with our Lord. Am I what I was accused of? Am I full of attitude? Am I completely wrong?

I have struggled with this old relationship for years. Every few years it resurrects and I hope that this time it will be different. So far, it is like an old 33 album with a scratch on it. It stops at a point and just repeats and repeats, not moving forward.

It is times like these that make me realize how precious our true relationships are, like the conversation I had today. The devil would like to divide, distance and destroy families and friends. We cannot allow that to happen. Relationships are a gift from God. The people He places in our lives are there to support and encourage us, not bring us down.

It is our blessed calling to love one another, just as Christ loves us. We are called to care for our family and friends. We are called to encourage and lift up our brothers and sisters in the Lord.

I am thankful for this past week, filled with a dichotomy. The remains of a one time friendship built on a weak foundation, and the true friendship, that has withstood the test of time. Guard those precious relationships in your life. We need one another for support, guidance and love.

“Jesus told this simple story, but they had no idea what he was talking about. So he tried again. “I’ll be explicit, then. I am the Gate for the sheep. All those others are up to no good—sheep rustlers, every one of them. But the sheep didn’t listen to them. I am the Gate. Anyone who goes through me will be cared for—will freely go in and out, and find pasture. 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 10:6-10 (MSG)