Tag: Memories

A Child Who Needs Snuggles

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“2 And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven like a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. 3 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. 4 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.

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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

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“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

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“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.

Old Photos

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“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.

Pathway

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“Just as you cannot understand the path of the wind or the mystery of a tiny baby growing in its mother’s womb, so you cannot understand the activity of God, who does all things.” Ecclesiastes 11:5 (NLT)

I have long been fascinated by pathways. I find when I travel I take several pictures of a path that I see. As I am a nature coward, I rarely go onto the path. I fear snakes, bees, ticks, and anything else that may be lurking in the area. Because of this, I know I miss out on seeing things that the Lord created.

When we drive I look out the passenger’s window and think of how the area looked long ago. I wonder if the boys and men in the Civil War were surprised by the swamps and alligators. I imagine the fear and wonder that must have grasped the British during the Revolutionary War. My mind never really stops.

This past week I have thought of paths from long ago. I have questioned if I was headed in the right direction. I pondered pathways.

Often I will revert into my mind and overthink things. This is not a good thing to do for any length of time. I can get lost in my reverie.

Yesterday I watched a video that talked about Lot’s wife. Genesis 19:17,”When they were safely out of the city, one of the angels ordered, “Run for your lives! And don’t look back or stop anywhere in the valley! Escape to the mountains, or you will be swept away!” (NLT)

One would think an angel telling you this would be enough to cause total obedience. But, no, Genesis 19:26, “But Lot’s wife looked back as she was following behind him, and she turned into a pillar of salt.” (NLT)

I realize I can be like Lot’s wife. I can look back to earlier times, easier times (although time has eased memories to make it appear easier) and yearn to be back there.

There was a point in our life where we made a decision. We have followed through with that decision. The past couple of weeks I have questioned that decision. Last evening, the Lord, ever faithful and true shook me out of myself.

Pathways are great to look at, dream, ponder and wonder. But, God wants us to keep moving forward. So, forward I go. I will place our vacation and time in Maine into the scrapbook in my heart. I will pull it out to remember and smile. I will then close it and return to the path I am on.

What I Did on My Summer Vacation (part 2) “The Trajectory of a Life”

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“You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.” Psalm 56:8 (NLT)

Forty two years ago we left Winter Harbor.

We left this home. A home of a young family, Mom, Dad, Daughter. In this home we had much laughter and tears. This home is where we were overjoyed to find out we were having a second child. Months later, we lost that child.

This home was filled with teens from our youth group, The Harbor Lights. It was comprised of Navy kids and town kids. They would pile into our living room, most of them on the floor, and always crowded with very little room to walk between them. Each Sunday night it was the same thing, put our daughter to bed, and wait for the kids, our kids. They would be boisterous, loud, talking all at once. They would also wait for hearing a bottle thrown from a crib onto the floor and then the sound of a two year old attempting to climb out of the crib, mostly landing with a thud and a cry. They would all jump up to get the baby and be told to sit down. They wanted to play with her, and I wanted her to sleep. They thought us grown and mature, we were only a few years apart actually.

When we drove away from this home, it was with the promise that we would return shortly. We drove off to California, thinking we would return for good in six years. That was where our heart was. This was the direction we thought we would go.

Life changes.

Going to Winter Harbor for our summer vacation I thought would just be an easy trip. Enjoy the scenery, the food, the people. Have some memories and relax.

I did all of the above, but something I wasn’t expecting happened. The easy trip was a beautiful one but the Lord had other plans for me.

Sitting in our little home we rented I looked across the street to a former home of a friend. Both are with the Lord now. Beside them the home of another couple. We talk often, but not as often as we should. We share what age is doing. How it is affecting us. Looking at their home I thought of the easy laughter we shared. The time her husband walked up the path between our homes (now overgrown and non existent) mooing at the cows grazing. I watched from my back door as he realized that there was also a bull present and a chase began. The bull sounding out and defending territory and this man running faster than I had seen a man run uphill.

Each turn in the road brought back memories. They danced with the thoughts, hopes and prayers of my younger self.

My heart stirred with echoes of prayers said so long ago while I questioned if my current life reflected the perfect will of God or if I was living the permissive will of God while He’s waited for me to catch up with what His plans truly are for me.

The questions still remain. The awesome thing about Winter Harbor is the presence of God. His majesty reflected in the coast, in the water, the rocks, the fog, the beauty. It all calls out to me. In the voice of the fog horns I hear the voice of my God. Calling out to me, guiding me in the clouds of my life.

Pensive reflection joined me on this trip. I thought of the trajectory of lives. Some remain steady, slowly gaining momentum. Some see a destination and fly to it, sharing the Lord as they go.

I have seen mine like the tides. It ebbs and flows. Always pounding the same heart, the same mind. I have wondered if my life is like the rocks on Schoodic Point, strong, present, barely showing signs of erosion, or if my life is like the bay where pluff mud is visible and noticed by the smelly scent.

I have often said that I left part of my heart in Maine. What I didn’t realize the part I left was so much of my heart.

I know we will never live there permanently, but I am so very blessed to have been able to live there for a season. A season when I grew to know my Lord in a stronger way. A time when I was taught the majesty and splendor of the Living God. A place where waves crash loudly on rock, the fog moves quickly and hovers it’s dense blanket on the homes and shores. A place that yells the glory and might of God and yet, He comes into my heart quietly there and whispers to me. He urges me and nudges me to draw closer to Him. He welcomes me back home there, and then continues on this journey with me.

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)

Christmas Eve

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“13 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying: 14 “Glory to God in the highest,And on earth peace, goodwill toward men!”15 So it was, when the angels had gone away from them into heaven, that the shepherds said to one another, “Let us now go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has come to pass, which the Lord has made known to us.” Luke 2:13-15 (NKJV)

This time of year evokes memories. This time also pulls people into self-evaluation. How did I handle this year? What could I have done better? What would I like to see happen in the new year arriving next week?

Today it will be just Dale and I. We are doing last minute things around the house in anticipation of Little Man arriving the day after Christmas. So, today for the most part is a normal Saturday. Tomorrow we will go to church and celebrate the birth of Christ. It will be a quiet celebration for the day.

As I write, I wanted to say, Merry Christmas to all who are reading this post. At the beginning of this year I was struggling to write. This blog is almost a year old. The comments, the encouragement and the readers of this blog have given me gifts throughout the year. Your kindness and support hand me a treasure. Thank you for this year.

May this Christmas season be filled with blessings for you. May our Lord touch and heal areas that loom in the background of every day life. May joy become a daily presence in your lives. May laughter give you release and hope and increase your faith. As you celebrate through this season, may our God give you the desires of your heart.

Again, Merry Christmas and thank you for all you have done for me.