Petition Granted

It's been a week of tears and trials, wondering and waiting, and fears and faith. At 6:07 am on May 11, after leaving her "best friend in the whole world at the airport with a one way ticket to a city 2000 miles away," my sweet daughter put out a petition for prayer.  On Tuesday, May 14 she said, "Thank you to everybody who has been praying for us so far. Please keep praying for peace and courage and strength. Today is only day four of an absolutely brutal separation and it is hard not to be discouraged when we’re missing each other so much." On Saturday she wrote, "Sergio has his green card interview on Monday morning. I am trying to get as many people as I can to pray on Monday, because right now we’re feeling like we need a miracle. Please pray on Monday. Share our story with anybody who will also pray. Friends, family, church members. Everybody you can think of..." and this morning, "Sergio is waiting in line for his interview now. Prayers are so appreciated! Although still terrified, we are feeling so much calmer than we expected, and I really believe it’s because of everybody praying" She is one of the strongest, bravest, and most beautiful people I know. I am so very proud of her. We are breathing easier tonight. Sergio's petition has been granted and we are eager to have him back home again soon. 

My own trial pales in comparison.  I get to stay home with Killian. (There is a silver lining, isn't there?) Although I still get that feeling in the pit of my stomach sometimes, mostly due to future financial needs, I also have a unexplainable peace. My present bills are paid and I have money in the bank to cover immediate expenses. My kids won't let me starve and we don't have a mortgage or costly rental agreement. I get to enjoy the sunshine, plant some flowers, and play checkers with my grandson. What could be better than that?

The Tulip

If you are not familiar with The Tulip Tale, you can find some background here. (The first post is from last year and will help you understand where I'm going with today's story.)

I haven't felt the same heaviness this year, but I did find myself thinking of her this past week, my beautiful salmon colored tulip. She not only survived despite the odds against her, but she was the prettiest tulip I have ever seen. She taught me about life, survival, and God's amazing ability to heal. I caught myself glancing across the yard last week, knowing I wouldn't find her yet hopeful just the same, but she was not there. She is gone now, never to return, her purpose in life complete, and yet the lessons remain.

I almost didn't go to church this morning. I know how that sounds being Easter and all, but I haven't been the last two Sundays (I was in Florida) and sometimes it's hard to go to church alone, especially on a Sunday so geared toward families. It can accentuate the loneliness of being singular, especially in a group of people I don't really know. In the end I decided to go anyway, because I knew I'd regret staying home. Diana greeted me in the sanctuary and invited me to sit with her and God provided the gift of not being entirely alone.

There was a children's moment during the service where a woman invited the children forward and she read them a book, Good News by Glenys Nellist. I smiled when on the first page there appeared a tulip praising God. There she was, my beautiful tulip, smiling at me from within a board book. "I once was lost in darkness, but now the sun I've found!"  The voice of God whispered in my ear and I knew He heard the unspoken cry of my heart. I smiled silently.

A woman gave the Easter message as is the custom of this new fellowship I've been attending. It was the women who followed Jesus and attended to His needs who were the first to proclaim the risen Christ and so a woman is given place to share the Good News on Easter morning. She delivered a beautiful message of God's love.

After the message and sharing of the Lord's Table came two final songs, words on the screen above so we could follow along. The last song, Beautiful Things, had a picture of beautiful, red tulips blooming in the background. If I ever needed confirmation of the Father's love for me, and my lost tulip being an unmistakable gift of His love... And to think I almost stayed home. I left with tears in my eyes.

Here I Am

It's been an exhausting week; allergies, emotions, and a restless night to boot. I have the allergies under control again, at least as far as the throat and congestion. They're still making me sleepy, but maybe that's from taking the allergy medication twice a day instead of once. I think I'll drop it back down again this coming week and see if that helps.

I'm not sure if anything exciting happened. I didn't make any pie, but I did freeze one bag of elderberries and drop the other two off to a friend. Mid week I was given a personal sized elderberry pie and a jar of blueberry jam. A very sweet gift indeed.

Last night I took myself back to the lake for some evening pictures. The park was occupied, but not heavily populated when I arrived, but half and hour later the parking lot and shoreline filled with people. We were not disappointed. The sunset was spectacular.

Today I went to find my friend Gail at her cottage again, picked a few pieces of beach glass off the shore, and dipped my feet into the late summer, lake water. It was warm and wonderful. I am not ready for tomorrow to be Monday.

*Photos from last night's trip to Lake Ontario at Webster Park.

The Gift of a Song

Weekends have been emotional lately and this past one was no exception. The road to healing is long and often difficult. I am constantly aware of the journey. Sometimes I'm not sure how to go on, but Jesus always knows that.

I am grieving on multiple fronts. One of the losses is the piece of property on Shepherd Rd. in Williamson. It was everything I ever could have wanted in a home. I soaked it in, tucked memories away, and thanked God for how He had blessed us with such a place. It is no wonder my heart aches... But God. He knows the ache I carry deep inside. He knows I can't go home, and so this morning He gave me a song.

August 10, 2013 titled "Blessed"

I've heard the song before, but it touched me in a different way this morning. The car radio had just turned on when I heard the words.  

"... Yesterday's a closing door 

You don't live there anymore 

Say goodbye to where you've been 

And tell your heart to beat again..."

Looking on the Bright Side

I am thankful. Just in case you think I'm not...

* My health plan did not cover that x-ray I had taken in April... but I didn't have an MRI and I do have a little bit of savings in my bank account... for now. I probably need to look into this matter.

* I cross the railroad tracks every day on my way to work. I go over them slowly, so (maybe) I won't have to replace the suspension in the Kia like I had to with the Mazda. The guy in the car behind me yesterday knew sign language... he didn't want to go slow for ten seconds, but he didn't run into the back of my car.

* I have a lot of stuff from the house to sort through. There boxes and boxes of stuff... I feel a bit overwhelmed, but getting rid of it, even a little at a time, will set me free. Baby steps.

* Stinkbugs and carpenter ants are not pleasing... but there is one less stinkbug in the world tonight, and carpenter ants, though definitely not good, do not actually eat houses. They only make their nests in wood that has already been damaged... and I think I know where the damage lies. Unfortunately, it is in a not-so-easy to access location. (I am thankful the roof no longer leaks and am guessing the bad spot is directly above the barn beam on the living room ceiling... or even in it.

* It rained almost every day this past week, with spots of sunshine interspersed. We had some very nice days with some very wet, rainy moments... It's supposed to be nice this weekend, and it's time for the Apple Blossom Festival.

It Was Cold Today

With school closed due to the arctic wind chill, we had a different kind of day at the center. No more than 31 children showed up, including our school age group. It was a more relaxed atmosphere and I had the rare privilege of going home 45 minutes early.

I've had two "much better than Monday and Tuesday" days. I know deep inside that grief comes in waves, but when it hits I am still overwhelmed. I also know I am not alone in my grief. Perhaps that is the biggest sorrow of all... It is just a part of why my heart is torn. I will be okay, but there will be days of intense pain in the process of getting there. I need to hurt, it's part of the healing, so please forgive me for the times when it bleeds through my writing.

Life is not all pain. There are hundreds of moments each day when I stop to soak in the blessings and remember to be thankful. Each little child, each hug, each smile... our sweet, soft babies, rascally toddlers, rambunctious preschoolers, and surly school age kids... I smile when our babies learn to walk, to talk, and say my name... We have one small child who calls me "Marka." Ha ha! When Sophia wrapped her little arms around my neck and said, "I luf you," my heart melted a little. I love the children, my coworkers, and my boss. I am thankful for my kitchen and the time I get to spend in the classrooms. It's a good place to be.

I am thankful for week days and week ends, for church on Sunday mornings, my step study on Monday nights, and the pottery studio. I am thankful for our counselor, my sisters, and my attic bedroom. I am thankful for my kids, for the cabinetmaker, and for my friends. I am blessed by the blog and my blog friends, and I'm even thankful for Facebook. And right now, I am thankful it isn't yet 11 o'clock and that my teeth are already brushed. I'm ready to turn out the light and go to sleep. Thanks for being there, guys.

Bits and Pieces

* I'm still alive. Life is so completely different from what it was a few years back that I often feel like a stranger in my own skin. I'm still me inside, but I feel as though I've been plucked up and dropped into a different world. Going to work every day can still feel foreign even though I am comfortable there. No complaints, it's just different.

* This past Sunday was Father's Day. It was different. We had former NFL player and a mini car show at church, along with a free hotdog bar. Of course I took my camera along. I did not get a picture of Cory Proctor, but I did take a selfie in a shiny hubcap.

* Sunday afternoon my little grandson wore the soccer uniform his Uncle Carlos sent him from Mexico. It came home with Abuelo and Tio Raul after their February visit to Hidalgo. Maybe him wearing it was good luck. Mexico did win the game. If nothing else he was the cutest little soccer player ever! 

* I stopped on my way to work one morning this week and captured a bit of beauty along the side of the road. Crown vetch. A bit of pale purple growing on the edge of the field. I'm taking it all in as I go but I don't often have time to stop. The calves that I saw a few early mornings, following their mamas through the fields, haven't been there anymore, but I remembered to count the blessing of seeing them while they were.

* Yesterday I noticed some new flowers growing in our own front garden. Since Hannah and Sergio  recently cleaned it out, I asked what they had planted. They both looked confused until I asked Hannah what she had done with the pumpkin that sat out on the front step last fall. They both laughed.

* This morning my sister and I picked a few strawberries at a local farm. This afternoon we had strawberry shortcake for lunch, my first of the season. It was wonderfully delicious! Afterward we were so sleepy and satisfied that we both took a nap, during which somebody took our picture. Ha ha!

* a job to go to
* recovery
*crown vetch
* calves in the field
* pumpkin surprises
* strawberry shortcake

Maybe I'll Go on Vacation...

I finally figured out my employer's vacation policy. Had to ask repeatedly, and look at the employee handbook myself, but I've got it now. I have four paid vacation days this year. Now I need to figure out the best way to utilize them. Do I break them up into snippets? Take two here and two there? Or do I take them all at once? I'm still thinking about it. Funny thing is I feel more relaxed just knowing.

It's been a good week. I'm learning how to recognize my feelings for what they are, breathe through them, and come out okay on the other side.

I'm still soaking in the beauty of each day, I'm simply not able to capture it as often as I have in the past. It wouldn't do to tell my boss I was late to work because I had to stop and photograph those calves following their mothers through the pasture in the early morning dew, but I do smile as I drive by. That has to count for something. I'm counting gifts even if I'm not assigning them numbers.

* cows and calves in the morning dew
* weeds
*fences
* pottery, even the ones I forgot to cover. (They dried out and went into the reclaim bucket.)

Thankfulness 1

November 1- I am thankful for those crazy, naughty, noisy, sweet, and funny babies at work. I love them all! (Of course, I can't take pictures at work, so you get a couple of my crazy, naughty, noisy, sweet and funny grandchildren instead. Numbers Eight and Nine, in case you were wondering.)

These are the ages of the little ones in our infant rooms, anywhere from a few months to a year and a half. They require a large helping of patience, several doses of love and affection, with a generous sprinkling of humor. Mix in lots of patience and understanding and the result will be noting short of a treat. Those little people almost always leave me smiling even when they pitch their food on the floor, writhe in a fit of temper, or leave something ghastly on my clothing. I am wired to love little one. I simply can't help myself.

Eight Years

It's the annual "Dad Post" because I still love him as much as ever and miss him like crazy. Perhaps in some ways, I've missed him more this past year because I've felt so much like I need him to be here. I've needed his wisdom, his guidance, and his love. I've needed his arms around me and his prayers upholding me, but just when I find myself thinking I don't have those things anymore, I remember that love, wisdom, and prayers are timeless.

I still have my father's love. He poured so much love into my life that the well will never run dry. My dad taught us not only through his words, but by his actions as well. He was a man who said what he meant, and meant what he said. If I search my heart and listen closely, his wisdom is etched into my soul. And God, who lives outside of space and time, not only keeps our tears in a bottle, but he has a bowl filled with our prayers as well. He doesn't count prayers lifted on our behalf as "expired" when the intercessor passes on, and so I find great comfort in knowing that even though my parents are no longer physically here, I am still wrapped in their prayers and ever will be. And I am grateful.

Reading a Book

It was a lazy day. I got up later than ever and took a long nap this afternoon. Might have had something to do with the shivers and aches that have slowly invaded my body the past few days. A bit of rest, a cup or two of hot tea, some ibuprofen, and a good book were on the agenda. The book after I noticed a package waiting for me on the back steps.

I put in an order for Ann Voskamp's "The Broken Way" a few days ago and today it arrived...

"The same hand that unwraps the firmaments of winging stars wraps liniments around the wounded heart; the One whose breath births galaxies into being births healing into the heart of the broken."

This is a book that will leave me thinking, because Ann has a way of stirring up the heart and mind with her words. She comes with unrivaled authenticity, and her honesty sheds new light and fresh perspective on old truths.

Six years ago I bought a different book that started me on a journey which still effects me today. I started counting gifts, little gifts and big gifts. Gifts God gives in everyday life. Gifts I'd forgotten to notice in the distraction of living. Gifts that tell me He has not forgotten me even though I too often forget to notice He is there. Maybe I need a new notebook as well...

Sunday Scripture

#13  Chef James (He's been cooking dinner lately.)
#14  tomatoes, avocados, onions, mushrooms, fresh baby spinach, cheeseburgers, and 505 sauce
#15  the sound of kittens purring
#16  a January rain

Monday, Monday

Today's amazing accomplishments included
- placing an online order for a few photo books
- ordering lunch to pick up on my way to work (Panera Bread)
- mailing a Christmas package to Jim and Michele (They're home now...)
  and
- dropping off Jim and Michele's gifts to Bethany

It also included a call to the Cabinet Maker who was kind enough to go shopping for a birthday present. Joe turned 28 today. Oh, yeah. And I went to work.

Happy Birthday, Josiah!

#9  a heated vehicle on a very cold morning
#10  mittens
# 11  the postal service
# 12  an empty parking space at work

Adding a Little Color

A package came from Minnesota. Inside was a gift wrapped present from my son with my name on it. "Don't open until your other present comes" it said. But when we talked to Jim on the phone, he said I could open it if I wanted to. Inside was a package of nice markers, the kind one can used to color those fancy adult coloring books... The markers got me excited because a few months ago I'd told Jim it would be really cool if he made me a coloring book for Christmas. I could hardly contain myself!

The following day an orange envelope appeared on my back porch. Inside I found a Coloring Calendar. Each month has a corresponding, hand drawn picture to color. How fun!

I made a few copies of the pictures, so I could practice, and then I shared with some small grandchildren who came to visit us this afternoon.

#5  bright colored packages tied up with strings
#6  pretty felt tipped markers
#7  surprises in the mail
#8  children, not only talented, but giving

Happy New Beginnings

Everyone longs at some point in life for a fresh start and God is kind enough to offer us just that. Not only do we get a New Year every twelve months, but His  mercies are new every morning. I don't know about you, but I need forgiveness and encouragement on a regular basis. I'm counting gifts again this year.

#1  mercies new every morning
#2  small child asking to be held by his grammy
#3  running into random friends at the grocery store
#4  big hugs from random friends (Liz M. and Lakhmi)

Gifts From Above

She holds my hand and pats my arm. If I were to close my eyes, I could almost believe the old hand now caressing my arm, belongs to my own mother. Although a part of me aches, and tears threaten to sting my eyes, I smile at this gift of healing that God has brought into my life through Gail. What was it she said at lunch yesterday? "Thank you, Lord, for all you've blessed us with." Just like Mom... And today when the nurse came in to rub Ben Gay on her knee she quipped, "I'm getting to be an old lady." Just in case this blond hair should render me a little slow in my thinking, He's blessed me several times. It's not my mother sending me messages from beyond, but the Father who loves me, sending me gifts and reminding me of my mother's love, and I'm pretty sure she's smiling along with Him.

Icy Cold Winter Days

Please forgive the long and wordy blogs as I hibernate for a few days... :0)

Last night was slightly "blizzard- like" and we woke up this morning to several more inches of snow which are being swirled and hurled about. The drifts grow deeper while other spots are scoured clear, allowing brown bits of grass to poke through. Winter is a wonderful thing.

I think February is my favorite part of winter. Hurricane force winds howl, the lake churns up record breaking snowfalls, and we are all but forced to curl up on the couch with a good cup of coffee and a favorite blanket. When the winds die down and temps go up enough to face the outdoors with out fear of sudden and immediate frostbite, there are all kinds of fun activities to be had; skating, skiing, sledding, hiking, snow sculpting...

Lest you find me overly enthus- iastic, let me assure you, I have had my days of hating winter and vehemently bemoaning its existence. I found that to be totally unproductive and depressing. No matter how loudly I complained, February and half of March continued dole out massive amounts of snow and cold. There was nothing I could do to thwart what was meant to be. So, I decided to find something to love about it instead.

I love...
- giant snowflakes floating down
- deep drifts
- big snow shovels
- animal tracks in the snow
- ice on the lake
- silly snowmen
- whistling winds
- snow angels
- shadows on the snow
- cardinals at my feeder
- branches laced with snow
- warm mittens
- fire places
- hot drinks
- bright colored sweaters

I stay home a lot in the winter, and I don't feel guilty for it. I make soups and stews for supper. I read books, paint, and watch movies on TV. I pile extra blankets on the beds and enjoy the company of my cats. 

In the winter, every day is different. The wind and snow alter the landscape's appearance daily and sometimes several times a day. Ice on the lake freezes, and melts, changing the shoreline according to the whims of the weather. I love the excitement, but perhaps the biggest reason for loving winter is that it takes me back to my childhood when Dad went off to work in a blizzard and came home in one, when he piled extra blankets on our beds as we slept, when we would listen to the radio early on weekday mornings to find out if school had been cancelled. Mom would bake cakes or cookies, and we would play all day long when school was canceled. I just can't hate the cold of winter. It makes me feel too warm inside.
:0)

They Come In Handy

Hands. What would we do without them? I think I might have Carpal Tunnel Syndrome.

Over a year ago we spent some time helping a friend clean up her property in the hope that she would have her horses, and her livelihood, returned. (It never happened.) That afternoon in early November of 2013, I picked up a grass and leaf rake and took to the yard. I raked leaves for about four hours and went home with sore arms and aching thumbs. My arms recovered, but my thumbs have not been the same since.

It wasn't until this Monday afternoon, while I was outside snapping a few photographs while waiting for Rachel, that the pain in my hand became unbearable. Although my thumbs have been popping down along the sides of my hands, it was my right index finger (my camera trigger finger) that was shooting pain. I felt like I desperately wanted to crack the knuckle between my finger and hand, but knew better than to try.

Yesterday morning I left early for Prayer and Bible study and picked up a wrist brace on the way. two actually, one for daytime and one to wear at night so I don't curl my hands up when I sleep. This morning My Darling brought me one he had purchased for his left hand. (I look crippled...) I really don't want to face the possibility of surgery so I am going to try and take it easy for a while and I'm going to find out how to be more careful with my hands. I'm going to need them for a while longer. How would I ever crochet, or paint, or make pies, or build snowmen?

More photos from that walk in the park last Friday. They're too fun not to share.

On second thought, maybe I have this, Mommy's Thumb.  Not sure what's up with the index finger...

A Walk in the Woods (part two)

 If there are too many words,  just enjoy the pictures. My sister Rachel took these at the park yesterday.

It's a gray and wintery kind of day, perfect for snuggling up with a cozy afghan. More pictures from yesterday's walk in the woods. I wasn't the only one wearing a camera.

I intentionally traded my brown alpaca mittens for a pop of color. I found some pretty great red ones in my little basket of hats and gloves, and I'd taken my spiffy scarf along to keep my face warm, just in case.


The trees and bushes were full of little feathered friends looking for a handout. They know that people mean sunflowers seeds and they're almost always eager to be friends. They landed in our hands one after the other, and sometimes two or three at a time. Rachel said one even landed on my head for a second before taking off again. I was wearing my hood.




We hadn't taken any birdseed with us (I don't know what we were thinking...) but some kind soul ahead of us had left a pile on the trail. I scooped up a handful and we were abundantly rewarded for the meager effort.

We eventually dropped what few seeds remained and headed off down the snow-covered trail. Along the way we passed some folks on snowshoes and another with cross-country skis. We trudged along looking for something wonderful, but saw only snow and trees, which are wonderfully beautiful in their own way, but don't make extraordinary pictures.

Down the hill and around the bend, the trail went off in two different directions.  We chose the trail less traveled and soon found ourselves without a trail at all. Rachel blazed a new one and I followed along behind, the snow up to our knees, headed in the direction of the trail we'd taken earlier. Our toes were getting cold, and our cheeks stung with the bite of the wind. It was almost like being a kid again, out in the little strip of woods by our childhood home.

Closer to  the trail head we ran into our feathered friends again. They were all excited to see us, but we were out of seeds. I stopped to take more pictures; chickadees and sparrows, titmouses, cardinals, bluejays, and even a pair of red bellied woodpeckers, along with two little red squirrels who were ever so much more tame than Little Red here at home outside my window.