Hearing Heart Blog

Time to Move On - to my new website!

2011-11-03T20:37:00.000-07:00

I'm closing shop and carrying on at a new address!Come and visit my new website: KathySheldonDavis.com

How Many of Me Are There?

2011-10-25T09:37:00.000-07:00

In this part of Oregon I share my name with several Kathy Davises, and the name Kathleen Davis is just about as common. Online the most prominent Kathy Davis I encounter is a well-known greeting card artist. I would love to have created her colorful designs myself but no, I didn't. I found one who is a lawyer and another who I thought was a bit odd. No, that wasn't me, either!At Adams Elementary School in the 60s it seemed there were Kathys in every classroom. I believe it was in 2nd grade that there were 3 of us, and believe-it-or-not, one of them was a blonde-haired girl named Cathy Davis! I was brown-haired Kathy Sheldon, and I honestly don't remember the other Kathy. That was the first year I distinguished myself by asking to be called Kathleen. Aside from my husband, these days there are only 2 or 3 people who still call me that. At one point, I remember, I wished for a dreamy princess name like Cinderella or something. So glad THAT dream didn't come true! Cinderella Sheldon Davis, oh dear!That's why I stuck my maiden name in my title for my new website. I may still be a little bit envious of people with simple but unique author's names like Dorcas Smucker, but I'll get over it. I'm thankful for what I've been given. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=I'm in the process of relocating my blog. WordPresss hosts my writings now at . This new location will give me room to grow and more fascinating things to learn about blog writing and other very cool stuff. Check it out and leave a comment if you like. Your thoughts would be interesting to me. Thanks a bunch!

As Unto the Lord

2011-10-17T12:12:00.000-07:00

Last night I sat quietly by the woodstove to absorb some heat before heading off to bed. I was distracted periodically by my concerns about my inability to sleep sometimes, but what I was contemplating was that I needed to do everything my hands find to do "heartily as unto the Lord." That's how I remember the King James version putting it, anyway. I've been accused of "thinking too much," and that could be true. I do find myself overly concerned about my hands finding the right thing to do. But I think the scripture isn't speaking about the appropriateness of the task, but rather why it's being done. Or for whom it is being done, as unto the Lord!On my list today:1. Make sure transcripts are done on time.2. Visit my parents in Eugene and talk about them keeping my recumbent exercise bike and me using their sewing machine case instead of sending it to Goodwill. Since I've been down with a cold I've neglected our chats. 3. Make a healthy meal for my family.4. Get some exercise myself.5. Go to the parent-teacher conferences tonight at Junction City High School.6. All of the above as unto the Lord.

Who Needs a Time Out?

2011-10-15T00:20:00.000-07:00

I wonder if I need more time-outs the older I get. I can sure tell when it's been too long since my last one! I can get persnickety and sour and have trouble keeping my peace, and that's just not fun!If it goes on too long I see flies buzzing around my head, so to speak. My sourness starts stinkin' and my words get sharp. And even though I see those words heading towards my mouth and I'm not liking them much, I feel unable to package them correctly before they start tumbling out my mouth. Thankfully, this evening I was able to see them coming and zip my lips before much damage was done.So now everyone's in bed and I'm confined in my little corner with my Bible, my journal, my pen and my ornery self. Sometimes I read the scriptures chapter after chapter and see that many things I'd heard before are woven together with new ideas I'm just now uncovering. Sometimes I read and take notes.Sometimes I copy a few lines so I can look at them more carefully and refer to them later.Sometimes I just write my prayers and thoughts.Sometimes I doodle, and sometimes I doze.Then I fold it all up and put it in his hands and go to bed. You might say that time-outs are quite effective at my age!

The Old Kitchen Aid

2011-10-11T16:04:00.000-07:00

My mother-in-law endowed me with her 1950s Kitchen Aid several years ago, and I respectfully stored it away as a family heirloom. My daughter showed me the error of my ways however, explaining that our friend Mrs. Meyers had replaced hers with a new one and regretted letting the old one go. I think it was one of those "they just don't make things like they used to" moments. So, on Amy's recommendation I got it out and put it to work. At this point it has ground 50-some pounds of meat for jerky, made dozens of cookies of various shapes, whipped egg whites for our fluffy tapioca puddings and mixed the batter and frostings for several layer cakes. I know it could do so much more if I just took the time to learn about it.

Just like me the old machine gets a little over-heated when she doesn't get enough breaks, but other than that she's a trooper!

Baby Aubri

2011-10-07T12:24:00.000-07:00

Baby Aubri is several months old now, and I often visit the memories of her mother as a child when I look at her. Aubri's daddy was my son's buddy for many years, and they play together to this day in Two of Twelve, a band they formed. I know every woman in her 50s has thought and/or said before, "I remember when..." I broke open an old box of art supplies and created this baby shower card for Aubri as I mused over the blessings of my past investment in her family. Thank you for long-term friendships and for those that become family, Lord!

Thou Shalt Play

2011-10-02T00:07:00.000-07:00

It just occurred to me that today has been a demonstration of teenaged girls "playing." Like it or not, this entire afternoon our little midlife bungalow functioned as a beauty salon and girl retreat. It wasn't just Kayli and a friend. There were 2 more girls here we didn't even know! Jerry and I sat bemused and often bewildered in the living room to give them space for primping, straightening, painting, singing along with the stereo and occupying our only bathroom. I don't know how to explain my discomfort with the whole idea of tonight's dance, but I'll just say it didn't set well.

Now they're gone and I've been thinking about the vow I made many years ago to allow God teach me through my children. I often got on the floor with them and took part in their shenanigans. I relished asking them mind-bending questions just to see their responses and learn how they processed their thoughts. It was also a great way to direct and teach them as they grew. But I didn't realize until just an hour ago these almost grownup girls in my house were still teaching me in their "play."

Perhaps I should have joined in.

The Hardest Time to Worship

2011-09-27T23:06:00.000-07:00

I’ve been following the life of David the king in the book of 2 Samuel this week. My, there’s so much to learn from this man! We read that he was a man of integrity and honor, a worshiper and lover of God in the most extravagant way, a man aware of his weaknesses and God’s strength.

But look at him on possibly his WORST day.

After conspiring to commit murder and then taking the dead man’s wife for himself, the prophet Nathan confronted him with strong words from the Lord. Through him God said David and his family would suffer calamity and disgrace, and the child born to him would die.

What was David’s response? “I have sinned against the Lord.” He repented and begged God for the life of his son. He fasted, wept, laid on the ground at night and refused to get up or eat. Later he explained he had thought God might “be gracious …and let the child live.”

But on the seventh day the child died. What was David’s response to this?

“Then David got up from the ground. After he had washed, put on lotions and changed his clothes, he went into the house of the Lord and worshiped. Then he went to his own house and at his request they served him food, and he ate.” (2 Samuel 12:18 & 20)

His response was worship. He accepted God’s judgment and worshiped. Wow! Easy times or hard, I want to follow David there.

A Visit with Miss McClellan

2011-09-21T23:34:00.000-07:00

Haven’t we all had a favorite teacher that taught more than just academics? My 6th grade teacher (1967-68) was a single lady that I presumed poured so much effort into us because she didn’t have someone at home to take care of. Always the encourager, she motivated us to sing with gusto the folk songs in our well-worn songbooks. She was able to convince even some of the boys to join in after-school knitting lessons. And she was ready with a quip for every occasion.

One of her sayings I didn’t particularly like was “life isn’t always fair.” It provoked me at that age when I knew that the good guys always won in the end. Didn’t they? The potential answer made me entirely uncomfortable with the thought of growing up in a world where justice didn’t rule. And when I protested, it was “life isn’t a bowl full of cherries.” I remember thinking that one sure didn’t make sense. Cherries are small and red. Life isn’t small and red, and it is definitely not in a bowl!

Of course, I learned the wisdom of her words with time, and as an adult I searched for her. I thought I’d like to thank her and show her what I had become, but I couldn’t find her. I approached an address of a McClellan that I found in the phone book one summer, but I “chickened out” as I drew close. After all, what would I say? So I went home to raise my children.

Then in my 50s I sadly discovered her obituary on the internet and discovered she had lived just 15 miles away from me. That was when I learned she was survived by some sisters, one who was still in the area. Well, I reasoned, I can still honor my teacher somehow.

I visited the younger Miss McClellan today. I sat on her chair and admired her family pictures and her paintings and heard stories of her sister and reminisced with her about her travels and her own teaching career, just as though she were my own great aunt or my mother’s friend. And I am soooo glad I didn’t wait another day to contact her!

There's Nothing Like It

2011-09-18T15:58:00.000-07:00

This is one way I slow down and quiet my mind: I find a bit of paper and a pen, make myself comfortable in an empty room with my feet up. I notice after a while I actually breathe more deeply, but it takes time to get there.

Then I open the book. I poke around until something starts speaking to my heart. And because of the value I place on that voice I start writing it, slowly and word-for-word. I don't want to miss a bit of it, and writing helps me listen and listening helps me learn and learning feeds my soul and a satisfied soul restores peace. I'd call that a great return for my investment!

How to Be a Foster Parent

2011-09-14T16:27:00.000-07:00

I started a list last month. This is how far I got.

How to be a foster parent

1. Carefully outline your hopes and expectations.
2. Be ready to take all your hopes and expectations and throw them out the window.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

She came to us the first time 8 years ago. She left twice. Long ago we offered to adopt her, to do anything to give her the stable family life she needed. Now she's back. And again our goal is to love and prepare her for the next time she leaves. How crazy is that? And what kind of goal is that, anyway?

Well, it's exactly the best thing to do, that's all. Sometimes you just know what your job description is, and this is one of those times for me. It's not my job to fulfill my hopes and dreams for her, or even to help her fulfill hers. It IS my job, however, to love her, pray for her, teach her, hold her, release her, walk with her, and then let her walk away.

Like I said in my marriage vows 33 years ago, "I can do this with God's help."

pqopqopqopqopqopqopq

When You Are 55

2011-08-24T17:43:00.000-07:00

When you are 55 and have been working at a computer for 3 years you should reconsider climbing Spencer’s Butte, especially if you’re in a hurry.

We knew it would be “stretching it” to get it done and meet the rest of the family near the gazebo boat landing at 6. I knew I would be the weak link, but I didn’t know it would confront me full in the face as it did. After all, I work out hard 30 minutes 3 times a week at Emerald Pool! But I’m 55 and I sit a lot for my work. Rats.

Halfway up I wondered who put this old body on me, anyway. Spencer’s Butte is just a butte. It’s not Mt. Kilimanjaro! Pant, pant, pant with my heart going thump, thump, thump. Sweat pouring off my hair under my hat. My husband and son and daughter-in-law kept smiling sweetly at me. And coolly. I stopped to rest again.

On the descent the wobbly legs on this body wouldn’t behave and today, a full 3 days later, my calves are still complaining. But I’m not. It was a great day and a blessed week and we separated all too soon.

They flew off to the other coast this morning, leaving my house too quiet and empty. I tore open a special chocolate she brought me “in remembrance of her” and wondered what had just happened. Was it all just a dream? Wading in the river at Harrisburg, jumping into the surf at Yachats, 2 sons throwing 2 boys around the living room, great-grandparents smiling broadly with their admiration of the 3-year-old’s Spiderman pose, sisters-in-law meeting for the first time and exchanging photos and quips. Did that all really happen or was it just a sweet dream?

I saw more than one eye with a tear, and that was so precious to me. An amazing thing love is.

“Not a burden we bear, not a sorrow we share but our toil he does richly repay. Not a grief or loss, not a frown or a cross but is blessed if we trust and obey. Trust and obey, for there is no other way to be happy in Jesus than to trust and obey.”

“Then in fellowship sweet we shall sit at his feet, or we'll walk by his side in the way. What he says we will do. Where he sends we will go. Never fear, only trust and obey. Trust and obey, for there is no other way to be happy in Jesus than to trust and obey!”

© 1887 John H. Sammis

News from Uganda - Saturday School Rules

2011-08-08T10:46:00.000-07:00

Greetings, Everyone!
It's actually a very cool day today. This morning at 5am, it was only 71 degrees in my room. BRRRRR. Almost wished for 2 blankets on my bed. Almost...
At Saturday School, we had to come up with some new rules that will be implemented next month: no more babies or young children (like under 3) can come anymore. We must have cleaned up 4 pee puddles (sorry for all you faint-hearted... actually here we say "someone urinated" or "someone defecated"), had many young children crying, had all the young ones sitting on the stage because they aren't old enough to play the games, etc. So, no more young children or babies. There was even a baby who couldn't have been more than 6 weeks old with an older sister!
The other new rule is if anyone comes after 11am, they will have to wait till the next month to stay. What is happening is, children realize we give biscuits and juice at the end, so they come only for that part. We'll have to see how it goes next month! We had 197 kids this time...perhaps only 150 if they can't bring younger siblings next month. I have sent you a picture of 4 of our kids helping carry all the things down for Saturday School. From left they are: David, carrying 50 cups in the bag and a jerry can for the juice (it's empty at this point); John with a box of biscuits on his head (120 pkgs) and 50 cups; Dovico with a jerry can and cups and Natasha with the packets of powdered juice - they don't look heavy, but she actually had the heaviest load of the 4! They all came up to our house where we store all the Saturday School stuff, and took things down for us.
For the team - you 10 know who you are! - coming in less than 2 weeks, the 2nd picture is of the man who we paid to dig the drainage for your bathing room. This is just outside the western side of our house. There will be a drain in the bathing room and the pipe will go to this hole, which will be filled now with rocks and an iron sheet on top, then some wooden planks and dirt on top of that. And voila! a drainage pit for your bathing water! Pretty cool, huh? It took him about 6 hours to dig the pit. (He was paid Shs40,000, or less than $20 - a good wage for this work!) He was so tickled that I took his picture and when he saw it on the computer, he laughed at seeing himself.

Mutwahiru is doing well - his leg is healing nicely and he may even get the metal contraption off his leg in about 6 weeks. The only thing is, he needs to stop kicking the soccer ball when the boys are playing. He SO wants to be one of the kids! But, he could wreck the work on his leg so far, so we're keeping him from kicking these days.
We have decided to wait on the Jinja trip with the kids until December - too much going on at the end of this term with the camps, Americans being here, etc.
We will be getting some new chickens in about 3 weeks - please pray that we succeed in this business venture! Our maize should be ready next week... we're planting cotton this week... so many things... our eggplants and tomatoes are being used daily now... sure am learning a lot about agriculture and small businesses!!!
Okay, I'm going to FB now - going to try to download some videos from Saturday School.
Love you all, and am so glad to be partnering with you. There is a possibility I will be home for a couple of weeks in September. If so, I hope to see as many of you as possible and say thank you in person!
God bless you!
Laurie

Pastor Laurie in Uganda

2011-06-06T11:12:00.000-07:00

My dear friend from childhood is living and working with her daughter and a local pastor in Uganda with Cornerstone Ministries. They are helping raise and teach a select group of orphans. She has given me permission to share her news and pictures here, which I am proud to do!

Here is her weekly update: "We have begun an allowance system for the kids to help teach them responsibility and how to save… If they "spoil" (American English - "wreck") their shoes or sandals, rip a button off their shirt, throw their sandals or shoes on the roof, "lose" their toothbrush or hanky, etc., they have to pay from their spending money to have it fixed or replaced.

"We have been doing this now for 4 weeks. The kids who bought the balloons beginning the 2nd week (money burning a hole in their pockets) found that balloons pop easily and their purchase was not that great. Most of the boys are saving to buy a matchbox car (thanks to one of you for sending them with us!). Some of the girls are saving for a jump rope of their own.
The first picture is of Abby and Amos as she gives him his 1,000 shillings for the week. You can see his bag around his neck.

"Thank you to all of you who continually support this ministry with your financial gifts - you make it possible for us to do this kind of thing...training these kids for how to save and spend wisely when they grow up. I think about all of you as we pull out the allowance stuff and go down and check on whether their shoes have been spoiled, whether they still have their hanky, etc. You are teaching these children such a valuable and not-very-Ugandan lesson. (Pastor) Rogers comment as he watched this was: 'I sure wish someone had taught me to save money and spend well when I was young!'"

Abby giving Amos his allowance
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This Morning I Finally Buckled Down

2011-06-01T16:23:00.000-07:00

This morning I finally buckled down and went through three photo albums and scanned them all into my computer. Do you know how long I have been putting that off? My very righteous excuse was that I was just living "life in the now" and not overly concerned with the past, though I knew this needed to be done. It's one of those things that I find energizing and exciting, but I chose to put it off because of an over-active sense of duty. So, to overcome that I kicked off my shoes and dove in!

Another thing I am putting off is baking my husband some cookies, so I'm getting busy right now. Here I go. There, I took the butter out of the frig! The transcriptions can wait for now. We need the smell of cookies baking in this house!

My husband worked odd shifts for most of our early marriage. I celebrated our anniversary by getting the boys ready for bed, getting my wedding dress on and making him a nice meal.

hmm...hmm...hmm...hmm...

My Dad's Old News

2011-05-23T14:28:00.000-07:00

Just a brief note on this cloudy, sunny, showering, hailing, beautiful valley May day!

I created a photo album for my father last October with notes from family and friends. I had them printed out at Wal Mart, then arranged them carefully in a small album for him to keep nearby. I published them all here on my blog (see below) so the contributors could see how I put it all together. But I found that I didn't want to remove them, even 6 months later! They weren't written for me personally, but I still find them uplifting.

Why do people miss their scrapbooks and photo albums most of all when they are lost to fire or storm? Old news is valuable stuff. Looking in the past helps us keep our balance in the present and gives us hope for the future. (Wow, that's insightful! Did I make that up?)

Old news = present balance = future hope. Yes, I like that!

+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

No Simple Garage Band

2011-04-26T09:37:00.000-07:00

I have to talk about Carlton Mills. I think it has to be ok because he posts frequently on Facebook. And he stands in front of our small congregation and plays his guitar and sings. Therefore, I presume he wouldn’t mind me writing about him here. (Is this ok, Carlton?)

I have watched Carlton’s family from a not-so-distant perspective for many years as one of the moms in our home school circle of friends. He was one of the rambunctious children. There are so many of these kids to be proud of. It’s just that Carlton is on my mind today.

At Junction City High School Carlton played and sang with his buds for a worship event on campus. Here's the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rOArckcNKvk&NR=1 Of course I'm a bit partial, but how many high school 'garage bands' sound this good and have this heart?

Here's a clip of Carlton's song at our Easter worship service. "I am yours, I am yours. Through all my days, Jesus I am yours. I am yours, I'm yours forever, Lord. Love came down and rescued me. Love came down and set me free..."http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=40zwSJNeufA&feature=share

If I am to become one of the old 'church ladies,' in our community, then I want to do it right! A little recognition of a wonderful young man can't hurt, after all. It was so good to worship God with you, Carlton! Thank you!
`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-

An Easter Dance - I Will Rise Up!

2011-04-25T10:14:00.000-07:00

TVKim- Watching: Kim's Picks- An Easter dance I couldn't help dancing in my office chair with this video. Thanks Kim Komando!

Chilly Sunday

2011-03-15T09:19:00.000-07:00

Our first winter storm without a wood stove since 1979! Actually, our new home has a small wood stove – we just don’t have firewood for it yet. As the temperature in the house started to drop Sunday, I stood in front of the sad cold little stove and began formulating a plan for how my husband and I would stay warm during the night. He was napping on the couch all wrapped up in a blanket while I quietly pondered our chances of survival.

I could walk down the street and ask Herb for an armload of wood, but we have not tried the stove and there are branches that need clearing away from the roof and the stove is so tiny it likely would not accommodate the length of Herb’s firewood and I am not sure Jerry would feel good about asking for it and I AM sure he would rather I not wake him to discuss his plan for what we will do if the electricity doesn’t come back on before bedtime.

We could sleep in all our clothes, coats and blankets piled up. We’re campers, we can figure out how to stay warm.

The second problem was our evening meal. I pulled out a chilled baked potato with the thought that though I could not cook I could at least warm pre-cooked food in the microwave. When I rubbed my forehead to facilitate clearer thinking I realized that would require electricity as well, ahem. I found the slab of left-over venison steak and cut it up into tiny pieces because it was difficult to chew.

I had kept one oil lamp from our move and a box full of candles. I found the flashlight and matches and laid these things out on the counter.

All during our “no electricity” hours I felt I was walking in a shadow of the earthquake/tsunami victims in Japan and found myself thinking and praying about them almost hourly. Many of them would have loved to share my cold potato and tough steak, and I would have loved to offer it—along with my friendship and warm blankets.

nmnmnmnmnmnmnm

A Warm Tour of Junction City

2011-03-02T11:14:00.000-08:00

I headed out the door determined to be prepared for more icy blastiness but could not make myself put on a coat. I settled for my fleece and a pair of gloves, and even decided to leave my hat at home. Just a matter of days and the western Oregon tug-of-war between winter and spring was pulling us the other direction!

Within minutes I was downtown walking by Pillar to Post and waving at Jamie inside. I passed my husband’s truck parked outside the barber shop and stepped into the city building to pay my bill. Just across the street I checked out the library (I actually did not check anything out there, though) and signed up for a library card. I didn’t spend much time perusing the racks because I didn’t want to find anything I’d have to carry around town.

Birds were chirping and two cats were leaning on the glass in the sunshine to warm their fluffy selves as I passed by. Yellow daffodils were exposing their faces and short purple crocuses, some with snow still on them, reminded me of my failures to grow bulbs of my own. Good thing the previous owner of our home planted plenty!

I stepped into Goodwill to see if anything interesting had hit the shelves since last week. Later on I passed the new storefront they are moving to with a grin on my face. Months ago I commented that Goodwill would need to open another store because of the truckloads we donated when we moved. I could imagine taking a little credit for their expansion, I guess. They plan to open the new store March 17.

Jerry met me at Safeway where we loaded a few groceries into his truck. How fun that he gave me a little toot on his horn as he passed me. We parted ways because he needed to get back to his studies and I wanted more walking time. (I’m determined to strengthen my knees and get to know my new city better.)

I crossed the railroad tracks and spoke with the workers holding signs. Nearing home I turned around to look up into the sky and the cloud formation took my breath away. I’ve always been easily impressed by clouds, but this was remarkable. Lumpy and fluffy grays and silver, all at the same time, with sunlight coming through like a glowing eye.

Thanks for some moments of springtime, God!

sunshine.sunshine.sunshine.

A Cold Tour of Junction City

2011-02-26T12:23:00.000-08:00

I had to get out! I bundled up, packed up, wrapped up and tied my shoes, then pulled on my gloves and headed out the door. I am a chronic homebody, but I had to get OUT! I live here, work here, sleep here, eat here, Facebook here, even exercise here; but there’s only so much “in the cave” alone time an old girl can take. I don’t intend to sound like I’m whining. It was just time for a break, and Friday seems like the perfect day for escapes!

It was good to just get to the end of the driveway. The seriously cold wind threatened to make me change my mind but I only considered that briefly. I imagined myself in my younger days exploring the streets of Eugene to exercise and pray. I decided that wandering is still in me, so I prepared for a frozen face as I pressed on.

My path was mostly dry, but there were spots with mounds of melting snow and sheets of ice that made me step carefully. I chose my route staying “on the sunny side of life” and ended up in downtown Junction City in about 10 minutes.

The Goodwill store was my first stop. I poked around and warmed up in the kitchen utensil area. I picked up an aebleskiver pan and called my daughter to confer with her about its worthiness. We decided against buying it.

I pulled on my gloves again and prepared for the icy blast as I opened the door to head towards the bank. The most difficult entry of my day was navigating the snow in front of the Citizen’s Bank. Inside, the sign said I should take my hat off for my own safety. I complied though I'm sure I don’t look like a person who intends to do mischief, not the kind that would worry them anyway!

Downtown I stopped in at Remnants of the Day, a shop I had been curious about. They specialize in using materials left over from outfitting coaches. I had a nice chat with the owner and came out with a quote for recovering my grandmother’s old chair. I think my sister Lisa would LOVE to work in a place like this with its beautiful remnants stacked to the ceiling and massive tables to cut and work on.

I headed over the railroad tracks to Bi-Mart to find my favorite Altoid Mints. I stuffed them tightly into my small pack and turned for home.

My escape worked! I arrived home refreshed and ready for a nice warm evening with my husband.

brr.brr.brr.brr.brr.brr.

The Sparkle

2011-02-16T22:59:00.000-08:00

I walked into my husband's home office during the news the other night and respectfully waited for a commercial break. He must have thought I had something important to say because he turned his eyes to mine with a sparkle of interest. Now I have been developing a theory that some of us must have layers of skin over our eyes, kind of like multiple opaque eyelids. At least it seems my husband does.

“Jerry, do you know that disburse and disperse are two different words with two different meanings? And let me tell you how I tell the two apart.” I paused at this point because I was sure I detected a dimming of the sparkle.

“Well,” I continued, “the ‘sp’ in disperse is like the ‘sp’ in spitting. It means you’re spreading something around.”

The change that came over his eyes startled me at that point, but I pressed on.

“…but in the words disburse the ‘b’ reminds me of the ‘b’ in bank. To disburse something means to spend or pay with money.”

Maybe it’s not in the eyes at all, but instead on the tongue. The man gave no response. He clearly was speechless at his wife’s depth of understanding and wisdom. Well, actually, when I saw that the commercials were just about over I joked, “Aren’t you glad to know that?”

The sparkle glimmered to life again as I made my exit. Some things just need to be said, like friendly reminders my man and I don’t think the same way. That’s a good thing, by the way.

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

The Dentist in Zambia

2011-01-31T13:22:00.000-08:00

The gentle dentist explained to an old Zambian woman holding her cheek in obvious pain that her abscessed tooth would need to come out. The mud-walled church was built for the communities near Chashinama village, but today it served as a dental office consisting of an old dinette chair, a backpack of tools and a large “torch,” as he called it. We called it a flashlight. My husband assisted by holding the torch at different angles above the woman’s mouth during the procedure. She endured it all quietly while her young granddaughter, an orphan, sat in the dirt listlessly at her feet.

I did a bit of research when we got home. I learned that far more aid has been poured into Africa than any other continent and it is still the neediest place on earth. I struggle unendingly with trying to resolve the level of need there with my inability to do much about it. With anyone’s inability to do much about it. Is this what Jesus meant when he said the poor would always be with us?

While the dentist was done explaining through an interpreter how the grandmother should take care of her wound, my husband bent down to pick up and comfort the little girl on the ground. She laid her weary head against his shoulder. At that point, with our prayers, it was all we had to give. For her, for that moment, a daddy’s attention was all she needed.
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A Strange New World

2011-01-12T23:00:00.000-08:00

Perks to living on our hill in the country included the freedom to step out my back door and yodel to the trees when I wanted to. We had no neighbors. Now I live in town and I have neighbors. The goats didn’t mind what I did as long as they had something to chew. But now I live in town. A strange new world.

My first few nights here I needed to keep the bathroom fan running to muffle the town noise. My eyes would pop open wondering if what I’d heard was an airplane or a car rushing down the street. No, it was only the furnace. I would drift to sleep thinking about our old woodstove and the chickens and goats I gave away and my red Bartlett pear tree that I wouldn’t have pears from anymore.

I would leave the house and then return, and it was like walking into a hotel room. It’s very nice and I was happy to be here, but it wasn’t home yet.

I had only been here a few days when someone came up to my door and knocked enthusiastically. Wow, that was different! When I opened it up it was a dear friend of many years who was out taking a walk and heard I was moved in! How delightful! Her greeting was sweet and quick, and then she was off. I could get used to this, I thought.

I finished my work late tonight. My husband is sleeping sweetly in the next room. We had our first dinner guest this week, my daughter! My son dropped by in the middle of the day to borrow a tool. I attended my newest grandchild’s baby shower last night with dozens of ladies I enjoy being with. And I live close to my church and other interesting places.

Okay, I have to say that I don’t miss the chickens that much. This is home!

More Moving In

2011-01-03T09:39:00.000-08:00

In the dark of this morning I sent Jerry off to start his second term at LCC, and since my work for the day hadn't come yet I looked around the house to see what my next "moving in" project would be.

We did a lot of cutting the last 6 months of 2010. I have Goodwill receipts that account for more than 20 pickup truck loads of donations from our country home that we didn't need (or need to store) any more.

Another thing we cut was our mortgage debt. We are living now for less than rent and will have our small loan paid off in less than 2 years! Yayeee!

Our poor dog Annie must have thought she would certainly be "cut," as well. Her new kennel area is quite a bit smaller than the pasture she used to run in, and she has escaped it almost daily. Our scolding brought serious remorse (in appearance, anyway) but she was determined that it was not her home. However, with more serious fencing and a reward of a big ol' bone I think we are finally convincing her of the truth. So far, so good!

Whoa, my work just arrived! I'll be extra busy today, so let me close by saying that I was able to do the "next thing" in getting us settled in our new home -- I hung the bulletin board frame in the entryway/dining room. We have boxes of picture frames that will end up at Goodwill in our next truckload, but the bulletin board will serve the purpose of reminding us of people we love.

You know what? Jerry's stud finder was no help at all! I certainly did not understand its language, so I poked a few unnecessary holes in the wall to find the stud the old fashioned way. The scars were soon covered up with the board on which I will stick notes, cards, and Christmas pictures from friends and family.
8~8~8~8~8~8~8~

Day 8 - Christmas in San Angelo

2010-12-26T23:13:00.000-08:00

Our last full day in San Angelo began with some of us sleeping late (me) and a delicious Texas BBQ meal downtown. After discussing options for the day, Ayden convinced his dad that Frisbee golf at the Concho River city park would be a great plan. We came home for gear and headed to the river for the three guys to work on their throwing arms.

I walked around with Sarah catching pictures of trees I could not identify and the brown landscape that is so unlike riversides where I come from. It was great to be out in the fresh air and sweet to have more chatting time with Sarah.

Ayden had two boxes of "poppers" that he wanted to break into, so at dusk we all went out to the driveway. These are the little firecracker packets that a child can throw on the ground to see a spark and hear it pop. We found ourselves searching for the duds and stomping on them, all the while realizing it probably looked like a very strange dance to the neighbors across the street. Oh, well...

They vacillated but then they made up their minds to go see TRON in 3D. Ayden and I snuggled on the couch and watched Toy Story 3 with his tub of Christmas popcorn. I don't enjoy all the yelling in these movies, but in the end I found myself reminiscing about toys I had loved as a child. I would enjoy seeing a Betsy McCall doll like the one I had in 1963 and a Chatty Cathy with long red/brown hair, without my added haircut, of course. My brother's plastic train set would also be fun to play with again. (In my mind I'm seeing the 1962 Christmas picture of me in front of the tree assembling it - pretending to be doing it for him!)

The day came to its end with Aaron challenging his dad to a video game: TRON, of course, featuring the throwing of "light disks." So, I guess we would have to call this Disk Day!

Day 6 & 7 - Christmas in San Angelo

2010-12-25T23:15:00.000-08:00

Christmas blessings!

We piled into the SUV yesterday for an early lunch and some shopping. Ayden trailed Grandpa in Walmart while his folks picked up some groceries for the very special Christmas dinner that Sarah was planning. I grabbed my favorite hot chocolate mix and added it to the cart, then left them to go wandering. It wasn't that I needed to purchase anything, I just wanted to take my brain on a little vacation!

When we got home I started on our tamale pie. We were lacking in cornmeal a bit, so I found some cheese crackers and crushed them into the cornmeal crust mixture to extend it. It worked out fine, though there were no leftovers (and no complaints, as well). This was one of the top recipes Aaron enjoyed as a kid. While it was baking the little family put together their gingerbread house.

This morning we enjoyed Grandpa's pancakes for our Christmas breakfast. Patiently Ayden waited while Grandpa read the story of Jesus' birth. After we enjoyed our exchanging of gifts the "boys" (Ayden, his dad and grandpa) played with a truck that jumped over pop cans in the hall. Sarah spent the rest of the day putting together a wonderful meal. When everyone had their food I served myself and walked into the family room with an impulsive creative "grace" to offer. I raised my plate high over my head and thanked God for the food and for Sarah. Everyone agreed! Sometimes traditions need to be changed, but I'm sure God always appreciates a thankful heart.

Day 5 - Christmas in San Angelo

2010-12-23T22:43:00.000-08:00

I just haven't been able to adjust to central Texas time, especially when the others are also staying up late. It's long been my practice to have my unwind-be-quiet-with-Jesus-time after everyone is asleep, but lately that's been difficult. It seems my blog posts are dull dry news instead of vibrant expressive writing because of my sleepiness, but I will plow ahead.

Being with Ayden brings out some playfulness in me. I have a feeling I'm giving him an unusual perspective on grandmotherly behavior, but there's no harm in that! When he wants to use his big muscles and push me a little too far, I invoke a gentle warning with the one-finger poke in the ribs or with the touch of a ticklish spot. He'll run far and wide on the outskirts of the backyard, and because he always returns I can move easily to his side and give him my intimidating super-grandma face (which sends him flying away again). At least that's how the game went this afternoon! Yesterday's game of hopscotch was hard on my knees, so when I petered out Ayden got Grandpa to give it a go. I'd never seen that before.

Jerry and I have been somewhat "under the weather" this week, so we lounged on the couch tonight watching two young parents wrap their Christmas gifts in front of the tree. It's so interesting to contemplate how our roles have matured. Now it's my turn to be the older woman, and I hope Ayden is seeing that I meant it when I told him today that I didn't want it any other way. I had my young years, now I want to walk with Jesus wherever he leads me in my older years!

Day 4 - Christmas in San Angelo

2010-12-22T22:59:00.000-08:00

We played with the marble shooters on the hallway floor today while my son and husband made the guest bathroom a construction zone. When I was here in August we stacked up things we'd found on our walks to make targets, like feathers and sticks. Today Ayden's step-mom suggested his hot wheels track might make shooting a little more interesting. It did! We got the marbles squared up to launch at stacked pop cans, creating the necessary racket that's appropriate with such endeavors.

Earlier in the day the tree got itself decorated. I say it that way because I contributed very little to its beautifying. It took me quite awhile to stretch out the tight places after my run this morning, so I watched shiny lovely colorful things join themselves to the tree from my various contorted angles on the floor. When we were both done, the tree and I, we shared the satisfaction of "well done." It's makeover made it shinier and brighter. My makeover made me stand taller and walk stronger. Win/win!

Sarah whipped up another wonderful meal and invited her friend over with her little boy to share it with us this evening. Aaron seemed surprised with the amount of noise two boys can make. I just grinned and reminded him he was one of three little boys! His little sister wasn't shy about diving right in, so we usually had a hefty level of noise going on ourselves. Better than watching someone else have all the fun, I say!

Day 3 - Christmas in San Angelo

2010-12-21T21:55:00.000-08:00

Reconnaisance mission in Walmart: To shop undetected by two Air Force sergeants with my grandson while he chooses and purchases their gifts. Outcome: MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!

The store was packed tonight with an abundance of joyless and/or tired faces, but I was in the mood to create another memorable adventure for Ayden. Grandpa Jerry headed to the hunting/camping section and our sergeants moved out of sight, so Ayden and I proceeded with our plan. We crouched and dipped behind the racks as we watched for our targeted gift-receivers, then we discussed different things that might appeal to them. I hung his choices on a rack, and as he decided on his favorites I kept an eye out.

For security purposes I will make no disclosures what those gifts are just now.

We all managed to get our secret purchases into the house and hidden away and we thought it would be a great time to launch the original TRON movie, but we were so bushed (and Jerry and I had watched it just a few nights before with other family members) we abandoned that idea. Now they are all nestled into their beds and I'm wrapping up my business of the day.

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying "Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests!" Luke 2:13-14 NIV(c)2010

Day 2 - Christmas in San Angelo

2010-12-20T23:31:00.000-08:00

I was 19 in 1975 when I took my first trip in an airplane. We were served what I thought was a special treat and even offered to eat my grandmother's serving of the shrimp cocktail. But now, more than 30 years later, I have uncovered the suppressed memory of the rest of the story! Food poisoning (or an allergic reaction) to shrimp! May that never happen again!

With my son's family we drove down to San Angelo from Dallas yesterday, stopping in Dublin, Texas at the Dr. Pepper factory/cafe. How fun to see the museum pieces and read the history of the making of Dr. Pepper. Apparently, the drink bottled there is the only plant that has always used pure cane sugar as its sweetener. Others switched to less expensive ones. And have you noticed on the original bottles of Dr. Pepper the 10, 2 and 4? Those are the times of day it was suggested you have one to keep your blood sugar balanced. Interesting prescription!

Jerry and I stood in the street extra long to soak in the Texas sunshine. We felt a little odd surrounded by the flat landscape but enjoyed cracking pecans with our grandson on the sidewalk by the convenience store; adventures that we don't have in Oregon!

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Day One - Christmas in San Angelo

2010-12-19T22:05:00.000-08:00

Even though it was only hours ago that I felt deathly sick and its memory is close to the center of my mind, I don't want to go any deeper into it than that. Well, I will share some observations that I made in the midst of it with a few (just a few) explanatory background notes.

1. I never lost faith that my sense of humor would return, even though I felt total wretchedness in mind and body. Shakiness, fever, chills and the other stuff you don't want to hear about.
2. My feelings about being packed into a hotel room in this state with everyone deep in their sleep around me is hard to describe. Add to that the noisy neighbors in the hall and the bathroom fan not working to muffle the "keeping me awake" sounds, and then the tears that fell when I couldn't just patiently bear it and literally asked God for mercy.
3. As my husband began to wake in the morning he discerned I was snoring and totally unaware that I had survived the most horrible night of my life, he woke me up to inform me of it. My humorless response, "well, maybe it was my turn." (I apologized later).
4. The thought did occur to me that perhaps I would never feel this bad again and the rest of our trip would be wonderful, but I know life is just sometimes not easy. And I have not heard God promise me that. But oh, I am so glad it is over for now!
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Gotta Go Outside

2010-10-31T16:36:00.000-07:00

I'm done with my work and determined to get away from my computer. Nothing can compare to head-sized maple leaves golden yellow against the darkest evergreen, and then down the road the neon red sugar maple colors of un-named hues that boggle the mind.

Gotta go...

Upload and Update

2010-10-26T21:51:00.000-07:00

My parents were delighted with the tributes that different friends and family members sent his way for his birthday. Thank you! I have one more to upload, then I think that's the end of it. I'm looking forward to spending some quiet evenings reading over them with him here in a week or two. Or maybe we'll do it before the Duck game on Saturday. (Not exactly a quiet evening!)

Jerry and I have accepted an offer on our home and should close the sale by the end of this week. Our plan is to spend the winter in my parents' home while they stay warm in southern California. Jerry will continue his studies and I will continue my transcription work while we keep our eyes open for our next home. These are our plans, but we know God's plans are sometimes quite different from ours, so we will just pray and follow him. How can you go wrong with a plan like that?

So, yes, my dear sister who is already living in a "55 and over" community, it's my turn! Now there's an adventure I don't believe I ever thought I'd ask for.

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

Birthday Tributes to Paul Sheldon

2010-10-09T23:10:00.000-07:00

Our birthday tributes to our Dad, Uncle, Brother-in-law, friend, etc. are stationed at the bottom of this Web page. I had intended them to be planted here where my blog posts show up but was unable to make that happen. Oh, well!

To protect your privacy I will publish your work with only your initial(s). With your permission I will change that to your name as it appears in your email and in the prints. Just let me know.

I've been stuck home sick these past few days, so there is still time to contribute (or change what you've already submitted). All you need to do is email me your words. I will arrange them with a photo and/or border (as below) to make a nice a 4 x 6 print to slide into his album, which he keeps handy by his recliner to look through periodically. (You may notice some of my more "wordy" contributors have covered two prints.)

Thank you so much for your contributions! They make such good reading!
.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'

Tributes to My Dad

2010-10-08T10:42:00.000-07:00

My Dad's birthday is tomorrow and I have been working on a project to have tributes printed on 4x6 photo stock and inserted in an album for him. He has enjoyed perusing through these in the past, so for the next few days I will upload them as I complete them. My blog template has changed and it appears I cannot upload them the same as before, but I'll figure something out. Happy Birthday, Dad! (Birth date: Oct. 9, 1933)
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LATER:
The first few tributes are uploaded below. I'm unsure how to format the others because some contributors got quite "wordy." Perhaps I'll just add more pages to Dad's album! If you have a photo of yourself, a mountain or flower picture to contribute, that would be great. This is going to turn out quite nice!

Thank You!

Old Man on Campus

2010-09-29T14:49:00.000-07:00

That's what he calls himself, instead of BMOC, "big man on campus." Now he's the old guy!

Some dear friends from our post high school days, Merle and Mary, are students as well, so I guess they'll have their own silvery-haired peer group! In the 1970s this was practically unheard of. Now it's not quite so strange. Perhaps one day we will even be the majority. Of course, that probably won't be till we're over the next hill! Will the administration have to confiscate our canes as dangerous weapons before we enter a classroom? Will the school have to provide wider doorways for our scooters, and hearing aid jacks at each seat?

Mary gave a good warning, that we older students have to be careful to not appear overly "parental" at first (not her exact words), but to stay in the background quietly. I took that to heart a few terms ago, but I found that once some of the 20-something students got to know me a little bit they often appreciated a mom with a listening ear. But perhaps being in class with a dad figure might be more uncomfortable to some. Of course, he could just present himself as the wise scholarly grandpa instead!

Hearing Heart Blog: Austic Girl Finds Her Voice

2010-09-22T14:00:00.000-07:00

Hearing Heart Blog: Austic Girl Finds Her Voice

Austic Girl Finds Her Voice

2010-09-22T13:44:00.000-07:00

I have a niece who has a young son with autism. For a short time he was in my care, and though I am an experienced foster parent I had no tools for dealing with the little guy's special needs. I could look into his bright eyes and see the shining lovely child that he was slowly change as dark clouds seemed to pass through his head. His face showed his torment in just a matter of seconds. In his rage toys and other objects would be flung across the room. It was heartbreaking to not be able to understand his distress, much less know how to help him.

That's how the teenager in this video affected me. Her mental capacity was questioned until she turned 11 years old, when she started "speaking" through a computer! I used to tell my foster children that they needed to write down their experiences so that people would understand how it feels to be in foster care. Listen to what this girl has to say about living in her autism.

Click on the title of this post to see it. If the link I posted does not work, go to Kim Komando's Web site at www.tvkim.com and search for the title Mute Autistic Girl Finds Her Voice.
http://www.tvkim.com/watch/357/kims-picks-mute-autistic-girl-finds-a-voice

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Nap Boys

2010-09-15T14:02:00.000-07:00

Mama Carlie laid her sleeping 2-year-old on the floor piled with comforters on a sleeping bag for a nap at Grandma's house. So angelic-looking in his faded denim overalls and curly head. Then she left.

Big brother isn't so angelic just now. He doesn't realize that I am far more suspicious than mama and I know he's not following her protocol. I peeked under the door for the second time to discover that he had rolled little brother all the way under the bunk bed frame (still sleeping) and was trying to wake him.

I quietly opened the door and gave him a scowl face. I don't know how bad I appeared, but I didn't have my glasses on. At my direction he scooted back over to his pillow and gave me his best "angelic" smile.

Children are an inconvenience, an annoyance, and robbers of my fun. They don't fit in an adult's mold, an adult's world, an adult's plans. They are who they are, and I need them terribly. The reality is that I am the one who doesn't fit. I'm the one who needs reminding that I live because of love. Thank you, God, for interrupting my meaningless pursuits to bring me back to love. Thank you so much!

::""::""::""::""::""::""

A Glutton for Words

2010-09-08T23:35:00.000-07:00

Since Labor Day this Monday I have heard or spoken approximately 848,255,309 words. I am normally a woman of few words and I like to keep things simple, but for now that has changed.

We spent Labor Day "fellowshipin'" with longtime church friends playing silly games with marshmallows, rowboats, plastic chairs, plastic spoons, Frisbees and blindfolds. We circled our chairs to sing and worship with guitars and a box drum, so Monday my head was full.

Tuesday I packed in more. Too many years had passed since I chatted with cousins Chuck, Jean and Pat from Anchorage and Seattle - and here they were in my parents' living room! "Visitin'" went on till late into the night. My father in his 70s couldn't stifle a yawn and the overload of words and daytime hours took their toll.

Wednesday I met my cousins for breakfast with my brother who is also a person of few words. He displayed his willingness to contribute with flair, however. We stood outside discussing and discussing while people attempted to enter the restaurant with a multitude "excuse me's," so we broke up into two cars and headed to Costco. I don't know if the guys in the other car were talking, but I don't remember any lack thereof in mine!

Wednesday evening was our "gatherin'" time. My house filled with people attached to plates, bowls, pie pans, and increasing chatter. We are so polite; we took turns talking while the others were chewing so that the silence would not intrude. Then out came the guitar for the "singin'" and the drum to add umph!

Sometimes you've just got to indulge yourself in the riches around you, and store up the good things for times when there is less. I know in just a matter of hours I will wonder at my lonely solitude (and thank God for memories of the noise).

xcxcxcxcxcxcxcxc

No Lunchbox for School

2010-08-31T09:33:00.000-07:00

My dear husband gathered up his notebook and pen, cell phone and glasses this morning, and off he went to his orientation at Lane Community College. Remembering my motherly musings about being an older student on campus and enjoying it, I watched him get in his truck and drive off.

I had my turn three years ago when I stepped out to learn something new. I chose my top two favorite classes in the entire course catalog, and decided that if I only had ONE term of school, these would be the most valuable to me: Microsoft Word and Computer Fundamentals. Both of these fed my hunger and love for words and seemed an easy beginning for me. My self-confidence was lagging a little bit, so "easy" was important to me. From that point I grew to where I am now working in my dream job at home from on my computer.

Now it's his turn. His daughter-in-law joked with him last night that he needed a lunch pail, and we reminisced about the tin lunch pails of the 60s when we were in elementary school. Mine had a conservative plaid design, his had "Fireball XL5" printed on it (a children's TV show). Those were important things to us 50 years ago.

New beginnings, new things to learn, overwhelming adventures. Here we go again!

<^<^<^<^<^<^<^<^

Internet Woes

2010-08-27T09:33:00.000-07:00

Tears of frustration—is that what happens when the internet is down? My goodness, how did I become so attached that I would feel this way when it’s not available to me? Part of the problem was that I was functioning in the personal fear that I was to blame, that I’m not smart enough to figure out how to fix it. Too many steps and things to try, it was all terribly overwhelming for me.

I spent most of the morning yesterday troubleshooting, going through the steps I’d learned in my courses at LCC. Finally, I had unhooked and rehooked the modem and router so many times that I was afraid I’d tear the cord apart in my distress. When I identified the fact I was getting angry I shut everything down. I knew my work was not going to get done that day.

I’m rather embarrassed by it now, but I went through a progression of worries like “what if” terrorists controlled internet service and shut the whole country down? “What if” I couldn’t work any longer? “What if ” my house slid down the hill into the Long Tom? “What if” all my hair falls out when I get old?

Rational or irrational, I unplugged my worries from my hub (my head) and turned my eyes back to reality; to Jesus, my Prince of Peace. The Bible says we are all like sheep. I think that’s very kind, because yesterday I behaved more like a distressed chicken.

-< -< -< -< -< -< -< ---

Down by the Riverside

2010-08-25T08:53:00.000-07:00

Just thought I'd share a multi-generational family moment. Here's a picture with my parents, husband, son, daughter-in-law, daughter, friend, and grandchildren all cooling off by the river at Harrisburg, OR. It was a rare occasion when we all could come together with just 2 hours' notice. A sweet, relaxing time.

I've been 100% guilty of neglecting family time. I am mending my ways now, and putting other things aside to be with them more. You're welcome to join us; just give me a call next time the temperatures go above 90 degrees. Let's go get our feet wet!

qoqoqoqoqoqoqoqoqo

Elder Disruptions in Church

2010-08-21T22:46:00.000-07:00

Thwack! The old lady's cane came down hard on the top of the pew 2 rows ahead of her. She was aiming for an older gentleman's head, believe it or not! I didn't see it, but I was told her first shot had hit home. Evangelist Tim was well into his sermon and was struggling to stay on track while Mr. Wayne, the older gentleman, repeatedly turned to converse with the boy next to him on the front row. Apparently Mr. Wayne was distracting more than just the speaker, and this lady took it upon herself to reprimand him! Thwack!

I had found Mr. Wayne a delight to converse with before the service started. So many interesting stories you can hear from a 94-year-old; driving a model T when he was 9 years old, outliving three wives. I guess he just had more to say.

As I leaned discreetly to view the goings on, my mouth dropped open. Pastor Fred was sliding into the pew next to Mr. Wayne with his finger on his lips "shushing" the older saint. It just never occurred to me that this would be necessary for someone other than a child, but here it was in a church that boasts a sizable majority of elderly worshipers (I didn't realize till then just how young my home church is).

The speaker continued without missing a beat while Pastor Fred continued to encourage Mr. Wayne, but I had to turn my face to the wall so no one could see my amusement. My grandmother, a pastor's wife, called this "getting tickled." I was tickled, all right!

I learned later that Mr. Wayne lives in an Alzheimer's unit and has no one to talk to reasonably except when Pastor Fred brings him to church. He calls his home "the crazy place." You can be sure I thanked God for his old friends, but I did suggest to Pastor Fred that he may need to have the elders check their canes at the door before services.

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A Boy and His Tool

2010-08-16T23:16:00.000-07:00

He was on to me. He knew this grandma would try to get him interested in an adventure that he might not like, not at first anyway. But we went out the door into the west Texas heat and played on our chalk drawings in the driveway. He needed to work on his hop-scotch proficiency and I was recruited to improve the tracing of his silhouette with a cape and power-charged boots so it would look more like Iron Man. Then we looked around for something else to do.

I decided to lead him across the street to satisfy my curiosity about an empty house that had been cleaned up the day before. (That old nesting instinct hasn't died off in me yet!) We didn't intrude, but I noticed further down the dead-end street some trees that appeared to be a park. I coaxed him along "just a little farther" until we came to a ditch that he recognized as a place where he and his dad had looked for a geocache* treasure. We agreed that the area appeared a bit spooky so we turned back.
"Look at that, Ayden. There's your treasure!" He picked up the slightly rusty vise grip tool and I figured out how to open it. After a good scrub I showed him how to snip a stick in two. Later his dad gave him some real man work to accomplish - snipping off the remaining pins from a broken honor guard medallion he could no longer wear on his uniform. Then he gave it to me!

This mama never tires of little gifts from her "boys."

*geocaching, I've been told, is looking for items that someone has buried and entered the GPS coordinates to on a Web site in order for others to find them.

wmwmwmwmwmwmwmwmwm

Bowling Pins and a Quiet Heart

2010-08-11T19:27:00.000-07:00

In the raucous of bowling balls pounding the floor and pins tumbling and crashing I enjoyed some quiet moments in my head tonight. Aaron and Sarah were enjoying their games and their friends, and Ayden was occupied with the business of getting his ball down the lane and watching the score. That allowed me to crawl into my mind for some thinking time.

1. Tomorrow is my last full day in San Angelo and I don't know when I'll see my son and his family again.
2. Aaron & Sarah are feeling a sense of loss with the eminent departure of several of their friends who are heading out to new assignments (military). We're all rather somber tonight.
3. I'm looking forward to getting back into my strength training, my work and worship ministry.
4. There are lifestyle changes awaiting me at home that could be overwhelming, almost as much as when I was preparing for my wedding 35 years ago - the most serious lifestyle change!

It seems remarkable, but with all of this there is quietness in my heart. It doesn't matter where I am or what is happening around me, bowling ball raucous and all, I have been given a place I can go where the God who does not change holds me always. I cannot imagine anything more valuable than that!

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Caverns of Sonora, Texas

2010-08-09T12:44:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we scooted along in the Honda for about 2 hours to Sonora, Texas. As a child I had visited Carlsbad Caverns in southern New Mexico and thought it might be a fun trip for my Texas family, but Aaron found information on the Caverns of Sonora which was much closer!

After the tour we spent good money for three bags of dirt to strain in the sluice box like we were panning for gold. Sure enough, we found numerous bits of gemstones and pretty rocks. In the gift shop my son and I resisted the impulse to buy a rock for for his grandfather. What kind of rock do you buy for a guy who has just about one of everything already?

wmwmwmwmwmwmwmwmwmwm

A Walking/Dancing Tour of San Angelo

2010-08-07T20:08:00.000-07:00

My son, his wife, and my grandson took me on a walking tour of downtown San Angelo to show me some storefronts and historical buildings today. I'm such a wimp in the heat, but since it's just part of life in west Texas I embraced the challenge. Sarah found some nice things at a couple boutiques, Aaron enjoyed watching her, and Ayden and I looked into some kaleidoscopes and chiming clocks.

Most of the places where we stopped were filled with fine glass, ceramics and other breakables, so more reserved behavior was called for. But one of our last stops was at a re-sale shop with a more relaxed environment. At one point the proprietor even egged me on with some teasing. After a quick look-around I was pretty well convinced I wouldn't find anything I needed to buy, so Ayden and I played a low-key game of hide and seek around the racks.

Then the music from the radio started affecting my feet. Was it dancing? YUP! I took a few steps here and there, and then pretty soon Ayden started in. We did a little two-step together, then he stole the show! He bowed and kissed the back of my hand, then returned to his footwork. A couple nearby shoppers smiled and remarked about the fun. The proprietor said she'd thought of moving racks out of the way.

Moments later we stepped out into the blazing sunshine with a tired boy and packages in tow.

Thank you, God for moments of pure joy expressing itself in a boy and his grandma!

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Chalk Giants and Iron Man

2010-08-06T20:21:00.000-07:00

Ayden and I hung around home today, so before the heat set in we made our own world with sidewalk chalk in the driveway. It's fascinating to enter into boys' play.

1. The first thing we created was a road. What guy would be happy without a way to go places?
2. The second thing of importance was a WalMart store, probably for buying more Iron Man toys, I'd guess.
3. Then we decided Iron Man needed a home, so Ayden made the city of Dallas at the end of the driveway and I drew a garage for his motorcycle to park in.
4. I suggested a gas station, but it was most likely a "girl thing" to think that a motorcycle could run out of gas. Don't bother him with such details!
5. At that point he was losing interest in my drawing. Drawing is my thing, not his, so in order to re-engage him I asked him to lay down on the ground so I could trace him and make a giant for Iron Man to fight. Then I lay down and we made a scary grandma giant. I haven't quite figured out how a grandma can be scary, but I'll consider that later.

Now if I had been playing with chalk by myself I would have drawn flowers or trees, and probably a cabin in the woods with a chimney and horses grazing nearby. I appreciate words, so there probably would have been an inspirational quote or scripture somewhere in my drawing. I'm a girl, and an older one at that, so I had to disregard my idyllic scenario and stay plugged in to a 7-year-old boy's world of battles and victories and challenges and bravery.

When I'm back in Oregon I can work on my cabin.

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"Daddy Doesn't Go the Wrong Way"

2010-08-05T11:37:00.000-07:00

Being a little sleep deprived did not help with my anxiety about navigating San Angelo for the first time this morning. The sun was threatening to pass 100 degrees by mid afternoon, so there was anxiety about the heat. Add to that my anxiety about driving someone else's car for the first time with someone else's child in tow. A little praying and a little singing--then I felt better. We gotta go now or I'll chicken out as it gets hotter, I thought.

Though the GPS unit had been demonstrated and well explained, I needed the comfort of finding a map and seeing the layout in my head myself. I can't handle too many new things at once. Don't tell me to head east, tell me the name of the road to watch for. Don't give me a list, draw me a picture. That's just how it works best for my brain.

I found a Google map and charted my course. Once on the road I thought at one point I might be leaving town and heading for Christoval. Deep concentration brought me through and we eventually arrived at Wal-Mart. Only twice did Ayden say, "you should turn there, that's the way!" after passing a street.

It was looking good for my nerves when I finished off my shopping list and let Ayden peruse the toy aisle. He enjoyed educating me about the things he wants and doesn't have. (We're all the same when we're shopping with grandma, aren't we!) After being thoroughly informed we headed back to the car.

As he buckled himself a look of Ayden-horror came over his face. "Where's Iron Man?" So we locked up the car again and retraced our steps through the store to where our last DON'T GOTTA lesson was. There he was on the bottom shelf. I informed Iron Man that he had completed his mission and he needed to stay with commander Ayden from now on.

I tried to breathe easier on our way home by noting the flat landscape and other differences from what I see in Oregon, but Ayden wasn't too interested. That is, until he recognized the street I should have turned on. Google hadn't informed me that the name of the street wasn't on the exit sign homeward-bound! He wanted to be distressed, but I assured him it was normal to be clueless in a new city. Daddy doesn't go the wrong way, but sometimes grandma does.

So now grandma is home, Ayden is home, Dad & Sarah have had lunch and returned to work. My grandson is resting sweetly in his bed, and I will be in that state soon - releasing my anxiety. God can help us get to that place of rest, even when we've gone the wrong way. Yawn!

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50 Years of Sprinkling

2010-08-04T12:48:00.000-07:00

I ran through the sprinkler with my grandson today, and I haven’t done that in Texas in 50 years! I don’t know what this neighborhood thinks of me, but I hope they see how much fun people can have if they take a little time to play with a child!

Ayden’s San Angelo parents and I enjoyed another sweet bonding time till rather late last night, so I got up too late this morning for Plan A: get a jog before they leave for work. Consequently, I kicked into Plan B: work out/play with Ayden. He played in the sprinkler alone for awhile as I jogged up and down the street in front of his house. Then I joined him! I slipped my swimsuit and my skirt covering on and had a blast teaching him how to gargle, not get it up his nose, not spit it out on grandma, and manipulate the spray with the airplane pose. We observed how only one side of the tree was getting wet, while at the same time we were totally soaked!

I sloshed indoors to get some towels and my camera and we played for another half hour getting some wonderful shots of a grandma and a kid enjoying the water.

Oh yeah, I had also served my country by washing the car for a couple of Air Force sergeants (my kids) before the water sports began. Water work before water play! That all happened before breakfast and before his Grandpa was out of bed back in Oregon. Not bad for an old girl, eh?

oocoocoocoocoocoocooc

The Pleasure of Washing a Plate

2010-08-03T12:30:00.000-07:00

I dug my apron out of my luggage this morning and went to work pushing counter-top appliances around to wipe and scrub. I guess I feel enough a part of this new family that I can start helping tidy up.

I don't know how to describe the simple pleasure of washing the dishes. Being here with my son's family has made me reminisce about my "younger mother" days. I wore the badge of HOMEMAKER proudly, because to me it meant that my husband and I were in agreement that this was the best investment we could make together. We supported each other, and it was all for love.

"You shall love the Lord your God...love your neighbor as yourself."

So I washed the plates, swept the floor, managed the garbage, did some laundry and played Mario Brothers and Wii games with Ayden. Some of these things are not my most favorite activities, but love causes me to live outside of self. That is my joy.

uouououououououououo

Trudging Along in San Angelo

2010-08-02T21:16:00.000-07:00

My grandson borrowed his Dad’s “O” (U of O) hat and he was ready to go. But his Oregon grandma required a little more time than that in order to fill the backpack with water bottles, sunscreen, a trail mix bar, cell phone, handkerchief, camera, lip balm and coin purse. My wide-brimmed hat was planted on my head, chin strap cinched down, sandals buckled. Ayden wasn’t sure he appreciated the idea of having to walk to the park today, and I was a little concerned myself. He preferred riding in the car, but today there was no car available. And it is out of my comfort zone to explore a neighborhood I’m not familiar with when the temperature is due to reach 100°. Definitely out of my comfort zone! But this day was a “new beginning” day, my first day in San Angelo with 7-year-old Ayden.

When we headed down the road it didn’t take long for me to become swarmed with memories of my childhood in El Paso. I’d forgotten about the heat and the days spent in our tiny plastic pool, and everyone moving at a slower pace. Not long after we crossed the street we found a marble and a plastic golf ball, and Ayden pushed them down deep into his pocket. Those would be treasures we would play with later when I got out the marble shooters I’d brought.

We explored an empty lot that bordered a small lake, walked on the curb, took water bottle breaks, arrived at the park to find a committee of vultures picking apart the carcass of a cat, made silly noises in the play structure’s megaphone, shared the trail mix bar, rested in the shade of trees I don’t know the names of and sat on grass that is coarser than ours at home.

Heading home we counted the streets to mark our progress. We stopped often to sit on a curb and wipe the sweat off our red faces. I remarked that there seemed to be far more red trucks in Texas than in Oregon, and far fewer blue or brown ones. And I thought possibly fewer people take walks in Texas. But then, these observations came only after one day in San Angelo.

After we cooled off in the air conditioning we made the treasures we found into a game to occupy even more of our together time. I stacked up the pop cans, placed the feather on top with the plastic golf ball, and he shot the marble and sent them flying.

One thing great about being a grandma - more freedom to play!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Monkey Face at Smith Rock

2010-07-04T11:23:00.000-07:00

Tuesday was the second day of our vacation to Central Oregon, and we were prepared for the heat and rocky trails. Jerry wasn't sure at first that he would enjoy more than a few hours at Smith Rock near the town of Terrebonne, but we found ourselves taking in the rock climbing culture and the very different landscape than we are used to in the Willamette Valley where we live.

After our descent into the canyon of the Crooked River we rested in the shade of a large ponderosa pine where we met the dad of one of the rock climbers. We could barely make out the figure of his daughter on the rocks above us. While we chatted he pulled out his cell phone to contact her group to let them know lunch had arrived. Very interesting "wilderness" experience! Being in the sunlight and heat is a struggle for me, so Jerry and I rested and admired the rock cliffs across the gorge from us at one point. We named one formation "Baboon Rock" because of its appearance and the one paw palm in the air. Not long after taking a picture I took a hard fall in the path and injured my right elbow, which is still healing nicely five days later. The bruises and soreness made the day more difficult, but we sure enjoyed the rocky playground God made. Jerry said he was getting a "crick in the neck" because of craning it to continually gawk at the cliffs above us. We pressed on and made it to within view of Monkey Face, then turned back to find a shady spot to cool our hot feet in the river. I was so glad that Jerry was able to set up the tent trailer for us that night - without much help from me. I was spent!

Smith Rock in Central Oregon

2010-07-03T00:27:00.000-07:00

Rock climbers paradise! Jerry and I sat on a pillar of rocks overlooking the canyon and Crooked River and watched a group of high school girls and their coaches navigate the rock wall below us. After searching for an easier path into the canyon (and almost giving up) we found a majestic ponderosa pine to enjoy. But mostly the whole day was about ROCKS!

Brain Food

2010-05-07T00:17:00.000-07:00

I am a big girl now, so I have to feed my own brain and nourish my own soul. Part of maintaining my "hearing heart" is to open my ears and my mind to the good stuff and avoid the useless and depressing. Housecleaning never seems to end. Neither does mind cleaning!

One of my favorite resources for encouragement, instruction, commentary and motivation is Dave Ramsey's radio program archives. I listen to his broadcasts free at this link: http://www.daveramsey.com/radio/home/#archives-tab. He's so entertaining that I want to stay on my treadmill LONGER just to hear what he has to say.

It's just good, common sense financial- and life-related advice, and I've been a listener for 3 years now. His products have (rats, that sounds like an info-mercial) changed our lives. But I'm not kidding, it's good stuff.

If you know something has to change in the way you think about your finances and such, give Dave Ramsey a listen.
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Her First Love Note

2010-05-01T22:46:00.000-07:00

My dear daughter gave me this tiny piece of paper, about 1 1/2 inches square, and I have cherished it for many years. Sometimes the small and tiny and simple things have tremendous value!

I will be filling my trunk up for several trips to Goodwill this week. Who needs all that stuff, when I am so wealthy with LOADS of love?
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43 Days

2010-04-15T22:27:00.000-07:00

Last night I grabbed two hand-fulls of dried beans to throw into the pot for soaking, and even then I thought it might be too much. I'm having a hard time adjusting to just cooking for two! The chili turned out great and I still got a pile of typing done today. Gathered the eggs, fed the dog (twice), folded some laundry, checked on the goats, helped Amy move boxes to her new place, kissed my grandsons and daughter-in-law, picked up a packet at the post office, pumped weights, rode my bike, and typed typed typed typed. Also, spoke spoke spoke edited spoke edited spoke (voice recognition software).

43 more days now. We talked about the timing of Amy's leaving with this season of job change for us. It really is a process of change. It will be quite abrupt when it gets down to him walking out the door of his office for the last time. And his alarm clock doesn't go off the next morning. And he takes a deep breath and begins to
r.e.l.a.x.

,',',',',',',',','

Day 44 - Emptying Nest

2010-04-14T22:57:00.000-07:00

I helped my youngest child load boxes into our two cars tonight. She is moving out tomorrow, and she's been buzzingly busy. For some reason she cannot stop grinning. We sit and chat late into the night - me at my computer, and she sharing her dreams while draped over my old chair. In just days our lives will change forever. How incredible!

In 44 days Jerry will have his turn. In fact, it feels like we are stepping out already. Every day now we talk about it and reinforce our desire and commitment to follow through. Since I began saving my paychecks we have felt far more free to dream about good work for him, as well. There are good things coming; we can feel it!

My "book of the week" is a biography about Laura Ingalls Wilder, and all through it I see parallels with our lives right now. We are not the only ones who have turned the box of our lives over and dumped out the contents. Time to reexamine our stuff. Clean out the unnecessary. Break up the unusable and obsolete. Build something new. Like the Lego blocks my sons played with, they are more fun when they are available for making a new creation.

We are available, Lord!

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Sharing the News - Day 45

2010-04-13T22:03:00.000-07:00

The hardest thing today was telling my parents about our plans for Jerry's unemployment. They survived World War 2 and the Great Depression. How do you just walk away from a good job?

We sat in our living room tonight with a bowl of (Oregon Hazelnut, Dad's favorite flavor) ice cream. I put some homemade cookies in a take-home baggy (that always pleases him) on his lap, and Jerry and I took turns attempting to explain our thoughts and plans for the future.

1. We just know it is the right step and the right time.
2. We don't know exactly what follows that.
3. We know that Jerry will have work that he will enjoy.
4. God is faithful, and we will do our best to follow him.
5. Like the poor tailor promised in Fiddler On the Roof, to his future father-in-law, in effect, "your daughter will not starve."
6. It may be a leap into the unknown, but here we go!

#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~

The Countdown Begins at 46

2010-04-12T08:32:00.000-07:00

Jerry gave notice at work last week. 46 days from now he will walk away, unless something happens to release him sooner. It's funny, but we keep looking over our shoulder expecting to hear disparaging remarks about our choice to leave his job, but we haven't. We actually have only heard encouragement! How sweet is that!

After the Easter service we heard that different ones had noticed a lightness to his step, a lifting of a burden from his shoulders. We hadn't expected it to be noticeable. We look at each other now with that wide-eyed wonder at the path we are on together, very near the same wonder that we saw in each others' eyes when we decided to marry. And when we were expecting our first child. And the first time I called him a grandpa.

Wow.

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Scotch Tape and Other Very Important Things

2010-03-29T21:41:00.001-07:00

Magical stuff, scotch tape and rubber boots. Well, with scotch tape you could attach just about anything to anything, was my thinking. And rubber boots enabled you to walk home any route you'd choose after school - right through the puddles!

Before I took my mother's scotch tape to school and hid it in my desk, I was just like everybody else. But with the tape, friends came to ME to ask for a piece. We thought tape could hold the world together, if we could just have enough of it!

And before my first pair of boots? Well, let's just say my knee high socks had trouble even hugging my ankles when I decided to have a little fun in the rain. They dragged on the ground after taking on puddle water and with all my tugging on them to repeatedly pull them up! No amount of elastic could handle that much abuse!

The pink pearl eraser. Now that was magic! Now I could change my mind and make my drawings disappear, like the one of my teacher. Call it redemptive, I had "do overs!" Trouble was, my second and third and fourth tries to get my math problems right - well, the eraser wasn't much help with that. Many a math paper had see-through areas where Kathy had labored over it.

I must make mention of my bottle of glue. Such a wonderful tool! I taught myself, through serious research, how to use just a dot to get two pieces of paper to stick together without any sign they'd been glued. Quite revolutionary, actually.

With these few simple things, and what I could find along the way (like a stick, a scrap of paper, a rock) my adventures never ended.

Throw in a stray kitty and it was a perfectly wonderful day!
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Church Nursery Windows

2010-03-19T01:07:00.000-07:00

When our little family of six moved to our little rural town about 18 years ago, we tried to keep our ties with our home church in Eugene. However, it didn't take long before we began to drift.

The drive to get there was long. We didn't see our friends during the week any more. We were adjusting to a new school and lifestyle.

Then my husband began not going. That was hard. Hard not to give way to the fear that I might become one of those Sunday widows who sat in church alone, taught the children alone; her absent husband watching a football game, or something…

A gentle, refreshing breeze blew into our home the day we visited our new home church. We kept going back. The kindness and friendliness of the people, and the love for God demonstrated, was just too hard to resist! To familiarize myself with my new "family," I offered my domestic services to the pastor's wife. I told her I would clean, scrub, arrange chairs. My intent was to observe the goings-on in the church office and schoolrooms during the day, and make myself known.

The building was the city’s original schoolhouse, so the large rooms are heavily windowed, including the doors to the hall. The pastor's wife had requested I clean the windows weekly, so I did. It wasn’t till months later that I realized she had meant only the hall door windows—the ones where babies wiped their melted cracker slime on the glass and older brothers pressed their noses. But here I was, faithfully climbing up the shaky ladder every week to reach the highest corners of the windows to the courtyard that certainly didn’t need it!

My Prayer for You Today

2010-02-15T15:31:00.001-08:00

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. Romans 15:13 NIV

I just can't think of a better prayer today, than to ask God to fill you with all joy and peace, and overflowing hope! The action required is "as you trust in him."

I'm schlogging through my work today (yes, I made up that word) because of a low-grade fever that is weighing me down. But I can manage a small smile with this reminder of God's hope.
.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'

Someone's Gotta Play the Bad Guy

2010-02-12T13:35:00.000-08:00

My Daddy, the Tempter. I squirmed down in my seat on the slippery wooden pew and tried not to look at my own father tempting the Lord in front of the whole church! Now, squirreling down on those pews was not easy to do with the bare skin exposed on the back of my legs! At least not quietly. Anyway...

My father had a deep, rich baritone voice, and apparently the devil does too, because year after year he was given the part of Satan tempting Jesus in the wilderness. "If Thou be the Son of God, command that these stones be made bread. Com-mand that. these. stones. be. made. bread!"

Then our lead tenor, Maurice Macy, would answer him with the sweet voice of Jesus. "Man shall not live by bread alone. Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God."

Fast forward about 40 years and I am seeing my firstborn son hanging on a cross in front of the whole church. You guessed it, he's not playing Jesus.

My family members have often played the part of every type of vile character imaginable. I had begun to be resigned to the type-casting until the message hit this mama's heart full force at the end of last years' program.

There was my son on the big screen, in front of everyone, walking with Jesus into paradise. He and Jesus turned around to face us and waved their arms to invite us all to join them.

Bad guys can change. My family can be redeemed. God's grace is enough. You can bet I'm running to join them!

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My Tax Lady

2010-02-08T23:39:00.001-08:00

I survived my date with the tax lady today. Why does anything to do with numbers rattle me so? And why, especially, are numbers associated with the IRS especially disconcerting? I worked so hard to keep my bits of potentially important information stacked in the correct columns, but I still am not sure I succeeded. Numbers always misbehave in my columns. The devious things.

My tax lady is a gift from God, however. She pins those little buggers down and makes them stay. She understands them, and they respect her. I am so thankful for my tax lady!

In 2009 I closed one business and started a new one. Closer Look Proofreading is gone. My .com Web site has disappeared. My associates notified. My resource books sold. Why should the numbers be wiggling around if I have declared the business dead? Okay, I have one friend who wants me to proof her Web site, but that's all!

I have enjoyed transcribing medical documents for 2 years now, and in November I gained my first "long-term transcription relationship" with steady work locally. I love this stuff! I can do this! I can put the medical information in the right locations and it behaves. I thoroughly enjoy my new work, probably much like my tax lady enjoys hers. She should like my columns even better now - she'll have MORE numbers to command!

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In My Wildest Dreams

2010-02-03T11:05:00.000-08:00

I got sleepy last night with imaginations of wild, crazy changes in my life. Amy is planning to move away from home and Jerry and I are contemplating the “just you and me, babe” time of our life.

We have dreams of him being able to find work he enjoys, just as I have this past year. And we love the idea of being out of debt and working on other investments.

Last night I was reading about Abraham and how God called him out of his community into an unknown place – far from the people and places he knew. Wasn’t that wild?

And our thoughts about selling our home, unloading some of the baggage we carry, and releasing our grip on the some of the “same old things” is quite compelling. What’s wrong with changing?

Maybe it isn’t so wild after all, to let God into my dreams and respond with trust and faith. He made the mountains, he can move them.

Quote of the Day:

My son admired a fancy motorcycle that a family friend had purchased in his retirement years. Seth likes to say exactly what pops into his head, so out came: “Wow, when I have my midlife crisis, I’m going to buy one of those!”
././././././././././././

I Wasn’t Made for This!

2010-01-20T22:55:00.000-08:00

-My Thoughts on Dying

This coming weekend Jerry and I will be taking part in two memorial services. One is hard enough, but two?

We weren’t made to die. Dying is not in our program. That’s why death is so difficult to deal with. It’s not the way we were made. This is not an experience that God had planned for us in the beginning.

I don’t pretend to be an expert on the subject, but it just makes sense. No matter how ready we think we are, no matter how well we prepare, no matter how strong our faith—dying is difficult. It’s just not “in us.”

Look at the beginning, in the book of Genesis. Run your finger down the list of things God created and see the phrases associated with the word “living,” and being fruitful, and growing, and multiplying. It’s all about life! Then he made man in his own image. Does God die? Was man in his image made for dying? Of course not!

So when we are anxious about our coming death or grieving the separation from those who have already passed on, we can take comfort in our discomfort, knowing that God will give us the grace to walk through it with him. When that point comes that I remove my hand from the hands of the ones I love, and put it completely in the hand of my Savior, I know the difficulty will only be a hiccup. I wasn’t made to die, but I was made to walk with him.

That’s all I’ve ever really wanted, anyway.

He Has Shown Me

2010-01-18T14:18:00.000-08:00

He has shown you, O man, what is good.
And what does the Lord require of you?
To act justly, to love mercy,
and to walk humbly with your God.
Micah 6:8
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I am experimenting with the idea of uploading actual pages from my journal. Handwriting has always been an enjoyable pastime for me, and I feel that the words actually communicate more when hand written.

This scripture has been cycled through my journal and life consistently since high school when I sought to walk simply with God and not be overburdened with rules and religious traditions. This is still a desire of my heart. I just hear him better when I keep things simple!

At Least I Didn't Howl

2010-01-02T11:19:00.000-08:00

I sat in my rocker with a pile of handwritten notes in my lap, lingering over each word as I read. The tears started delicately at first, and I could wipe each one from the corner of my eye in a ladylike fashion. When I had to take my glasses off, however, I knew I was a goner.

My favorite gift for my family every Christmas is filling their homemade stockings. Amy carefully pieced together 5 more this year to include my grandchildren and foster daughter. Along with setting up the nativity set and the tree, this is a tradition we could never let go of (I’ve been told).

This year they filled my stocking. Boy, did they fill it! They gave me the best gift of all – their words of love:

“From doctor (caring for scraped knees and bruised egos), to chef (tamale pie, pork chops and sauerkraut), to cheerleader/videographer/photographer (you’ve captured so many cherished memories), to spiritual guide. You’ve done an amazing job showing us the right path in life without forcing us down it.”

“Thank you for a simple life of peace on a hill in the country. You were content to do without some things to stay at home and raise our children, and you did a great job of it.”

“Dad wants me to be eloquent and flowery, but what I have to say is simple: I love you. You are an amazing woman and you are setting a wonderful example of walking by faith for me. Thank you.”

“You are so gracious and kind. I don’t remember ever hearing you say an unkind word. Even when I thought you had a good reason.”

“Your willingness and desire to always get down on our level (and later, on our kids’ level) and really interact is a good example of the way I think God would spend time with us.”

I was pretty much a snotty mess by the time I got through them all. I looked at each one and thanked them through my tears. Thanks be to God for these moments!

I have periodically asked God to make my family forget my mistakes, but maybe that’s not his plan. Perhaps instead, he allows them to see my frailty so they can recognize his work in me. That’s ok with me! It was also ok that they didn’t mention too many of them in their Christmas notes.

vxvxvxvxvxvxvxvxvxvxvx

Preparations for Your Coming

2009-12-12T15:13:00.000-08:00

Just thought I'd give you a heads up about my progress here. This may or may not interest you, but I want to make you as comfortable as I can while you're here. I trust God to take care of the rest in his kindness to us.

BED: Nakita explained that the mattress they had was the one they decided to replace because it made them roll to the center somewhat, so I thought it probably wouldn't fit our needs here. Coincidentally, I inflated our airbed and took a nap on it on the floor. It had lost its air under Kayli, so Jerry had patched it. It was far more comfortable than the mattress on the hide-a-bed, so I think we will use it on the frame with plywood under it. It's kind of cold when you first get in it and I don't know how to warm "air" except with body heat, but I think this will work fine with all our big warm blankets.

CAR: Janell offered her car for your use the entire time you are here. She said it's a hybrid SUV-type. What a sweet gift! Amy photographed the booster seat we have, but I haven't heard if she sent it to you yet. I'd do it myself, but Dad has my camera in his backpack! (Speaking of my hunter-man, he just called and said he got a fat doe this morning!)

FOOD: I know you have a specialized diet for Ayden, so I won't stock up on stuff we may not use. My heart is full of gratefulness to God for my at-home work. My first paycheck comes this week and I've designated its entirety to caring for your needs while you are here. Just let me know how I might serve you. I'm not as efficient as I will be, so it takes long hours to get the reports right. I do a little happy dance every day that God has answered my prayers for work that I love and for my husband who supported me to get my education. I've often said I must be the most blessed woman on earth, to have such dear men in my life - although we all know God doesn't play favorites!

WEATHER: I'm sure you must be watching the weather here. We had a serious ice storm yesterday while I was in Eugene enjoying my first self-imposed day off (shopping for stocking-stuffers)! I crawled along Hwy. 99 for half an hour and still hadn't left Eugene. Then I was detoured back to where I started to find an alternate route. I always loved roller-skating as a child. I do NOT love skating on an icy road that wants to slip gently off! I kept thinking, as I commanded my neck and back muscles to relax, that maybe I was at the point now where I might walk the rest of the way if I had to. (How long would it take to trek cross-country 20 miles?) This morning I determined I will pray earnestly for easier weather while you are here!

Now I must get back to the medical reports. Please call if you have any concerns or to just give me a friendly reminder to take a break again! I love you more than dark chocolate, warm (no, HOT) fires, geese flying south, and gas in my tank. See you soon if God is willing!
~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=

2009-11-27T13:35:00.000-08:00

I read the most fascinating account of Anabaptist and Mennonite history and now I’m grieved that I can’t find it again. In simple terms I was lead through European church history. I learned about the birth of faith that differed from the mainstream in the 1500s, saw pictures of current Mennonite believers without head coverings (I didn't know that could be!), read excerpts of the book Martyr’s Mirror, and devoured the history of the church in the U.S.

Then I decided to do some housekeeping in my computer and cleaned out my cookies and browsing history. I can’t find that informative site now. Rats.

I’ve always been intrigued by early church history. One of my favorite courses in high school was Renaissance and Reformation, where I learned about the corrupt politics of the ruling “church.” In my Jr. High years my Sunday School teacher gave me a book entitled Not Regina, by Christmas Carol Kaufman. It was a tale about a young Anabaptist convert and her escape from persecution.

What does all this mean to me now? Only that it could be part of the answer to my prayer for unity among believers. What would display our purpose to be his more appropriately than for interaction and understanding to happen between us?

Jesus prayed, “…that they may be one, even as we are one (John 17.22).”
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Hi, Tami-the-Mennonite

2009-11-25T14:34:00.000-08:00

I received a quick response from my request for Mennonite friends from a woman named Tami. My problem: I don't know how to respond to her any way except THIS WAY!

Helllooo, Tami! I think that the best way for us to communicate would be for you to once again leave a comment here on my blog and include your email address. Instead of publishing it and making it public, I'll delete it and respond to you privately. Does that sound good to you?

Tami said she would respond to my questions, so here are a few that I ponder:
1. Are all Mennonites farmers?
2. Do they hear that question often?
3. Is there a network where I might be able to trace the Mennonite family I met in Mexico last winter? I don't know if I would follow through with trying to find them, it's just my curiosity at work. They were visiting a Mennonite community and school in the Yuma, AZ area, but their home was somewhere on the east coast.

God bless the Mennonites!
^+^+^+^+^+^+^+^+^+^+^

Has the Mennonite Faith Changed, Or Have I?

2009-11-20T22:34:00.000-08:00

The Mennonites I encountered growing up always aroused my curiosity. My observations made me sure they must be a humorless, fearful people. Being a bit shy myself (which probably means I thought too much of myself), I didn’t try to initiate conversations with them. In the Bi-Mart on River Road they would catch me watching them. I would smile, they would smile back. Their facial expressions seemed so serious, even fearful, and I presumed anxious to get back to their safe little communities. At least, that’s how I perceived them.

I liked it that the girls were always in dresses, but I thought it odd that they wore sneakers with skirts. I suppose I would have ignored that if they had acted like they were more comfortable standing next to us in the check-out line. I knew their clothing was related to their faith, and I admired them for that. But I wondered, if they know God, why do they seem so depressed?

Now I’m wondering, did something change?

A year or so ago a home school mom directed me to Dorcas Smucker’s blog. As I read her stories, I realized this was a woman much like me, in fact, very much like me!

Had I been judging an entire community by a small handful of people who may be just having a bad day, or something? I have certainly been guilty of stuff like that. When Jesus said that we judge people by their outward appearance, he was probably just stating a fact. We do! He wasn’t necessarily trying to correct us. It’s just a fact.

Last winter I spent 4 straight days crossing the border with my husband to take care of his dental needs in Mexico. Getting back to the US side took about 4 hours, so the second day I decided to leave him in the chair and get a head start on the long wait. As I approached the end of the line I prayed an odd prayer. I asked God to let me meet some Mennonites. I have contemplated many times that I would like to sit and chat with Dorcas, but she is rather out of my reach and I don’t want to bother her; so maybe I thought I’d meet some Mennonites in Mexico? Right!

I stepped up onto the curb and adjusted my hat. Too much sunlight on my skin gives me hives, so it took me awhile to be ready to look around. When I finally lifted my head, standing beside me were two women with head coverings and a man with a short beard. Whoa! Now what do I say?

Since blog entries are supposed to be brief, I’ll just say that before we were separated a couple hours later we had exchanged stories and names, I had turned down their invitation to a school dinner, and I felt I had made some very wonderful friends.

Basically there is, as my husband likes to say, “more research required.” Yes, I'm asking for some more Mennonite friends, Lord!
~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

Grandma's Patchwork

2009-11-02T21:40:00.000-08:00

Outside My Window...the bright moon won't let my animals sleep!
I am thinking...and praying for my Facebook friends who have the flu.
I am thankful for...my husband for filling up our woodshed last weekend.
From the kitchen...the smell of fried catfish and peppermint tea.
I am wearing...a hefty plaid fleece shirt.
I am creating...a big smile on my cousin Jeanne's face. I sent her a package today with a swatch of patchwork from our Grandma Kocher's box.
I am going...to leave the dishes on the counter tonight.
I am reading...more from Foxe's Book of Martyrs, by John Foxe.
I am hoping...that my appointment to complete my training for my transcription job isn't canceled (again) on Wednesday.
I am hearing...sounds of hope after a few days of battling depression. I am so sensitive when I alter my progesterone cream prescription, even slightly, that it can throw me for a loop!
Around the house...I'm thanking God that this is my home for now.
One of my favorite things...washing my feet with soap and warm water before bed.
A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week: I'd love to make a big pot of stew. Also, I need to retype the lyrics to some of our new songs for worship.
Here is picture thought I am sharing...Something of my grandma's:

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

My Review of Denim Riding Skirt

2009-10-26T15:44:00.001-07:00

Originally submitted at Chadwick's

Denim Riding Skirt 6,6,6,6,8,8,8,8,14,14,14,12,12,12,12,16,16,16,16,14,18,18,18,18,4,4,4,10,10,10 DARK DENIM,DARK DENIM,LIGHT DENIM,LIGHT DENIM Long denim riding skirt sits at the natural waist. Imported. Sweeping hem for a great flattering shape Back zip and button close Misses 35''...

Just what I was looking for!

By Kathy D. from Eugene area, Oregon on 10/26/2009

Fit: Feels true to size

Waist: Feels true to size

Length: Feels true to length

Pros: Comfortable, Flattering, Nice Color, Nice Fabric

Best Uses: Casual Wear

Describe Yourself: Casual Dresser

Comfort vs Style: Comfort Driven

I should have trusted my own instincts when I read reviews that stated this skirt should be ordered in a size bigger than usual. My mistake was that I thought the comments meant bigger than the measurements posted! So I ended up with a wonderful garment far too big for me. However, I alter most garments to fit my shape anyway, so taking this skirt in (3 inches) is no hassle. I am very happy to find a longer denim skirt that doesn't have a fly on the tummy! What woman needs that? The fabric drapes nicely and is very comfortable to wear.

(legalese)

My Happy Place

2009-10-26T09:03:00.000-07:00

Outside My Window...the evergreens are waving in the wind and the clouds are promising rain. (OK, here it is!)
I am thinking...selling our home will be hard, but an exciting adventure as well.
I am thankful for...our many years of laughter here, including the antics of my grandsons wrestling their dad and grandpa last night.
From the kitchen...we're still cleaning up dried pumpkin guts tracked around by Noah.
I am wearing...my most comfortable clothes to fully enjoy my day of rest.
I am creating...a plan to trust God better - letting go of my grip to allow Him to lead me into new things.
I am going...to stay home and catch up on housework before I start my work with Oregon Medical Group.
I am reading...Seed From the East, by Bertha Holt, and Foxe's Book of Martyrs, by John Foxe.
I am hoping...I will not forget God's promises to me again - promises of freedom and peace.
I am hearing...His sweet reminders of those promises. Staying up late last night, I read journal entries and scriptures that brought comfort to this woman's heart.
Around the house...I see things I don't need any longer. They'll be sold or go to Goodwill.
One of my favorite things...not having indigestion! This has been an almost daily occurrence lately.
A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week: I am closing up my business, Closer Look Proofreading (.com) and selling my reference books on Amazon.com. Tomorrow, if God wills, I will start training for my new transcription account.

Dog and Boy Training

2009-10-02T16:36:00.000-07:00

My third son was not like me much. He thrived on constant companionship, where I was definitely a person who relished solitude. He would talk to anybody in the store, where I would usually try to avoid excessive contact. If I would turn the shopping cart down an uninhabited aisle and involve myself in choosing the best jam, he would talk to the cans of corn. His self-confidence was more than I had ever seen in a human being, and trying to follow his train of thought made me to wear a question mark on my face every day. I imagine that he thought that was my normal expression, his clueless Mom!

He was more than ready to start kindergarten, since his brothers had been in school for 3 years, after all! His first day he spent more than his normal 10 seconds in the bathroom and came out with his largest self-satisfied grin. He had his Sunday shirt on with his clip-on tie. His hair was slicked down; I should say it was mashed down, and his belted pants were pulled up high over his tummy exposing his bony ankles below their hem.

I gave him a squeeze as he sat down to breakfast and asked him about his choice of clothes. He leaned over and tactfully informed me that this was how the girls would like him.

How does he come up with this stuff? I asked myself. Oh, well, it’s his first day. I’m glad he’s enjoying it!

But Seth thought he should wear his tie every day, even trying to attach it to a t-shirt. Fearing that he’d be ridiculed, I suggested that maybe the tie should be for special days only, like Sundays. When I mentioned it might get dirty, he agreed.

It was a precious school year, with just Seth and I enjoying our weekday afternoons together. One day, after handing him his daily cheese sandwich, he went outside to play with our puppy Max. I listened to his interactions with the playful pup for awhile before I realized my son needed some dog training coaching.

I called him into the kitchen and explained, “I hear you saying no to Max a lot, Seth. I don’t think he will learn what that means if you don’t praise him sometimes. Why don’t you try saying no less, and praising him more? Then he can learn what makes you happy with him?”

“OK, Mom!”

Some time later I felt that special mommy sense that tells you it’s time to check on your child, and I found Seth on his knees with his hands folded, muttering something. I put my ear closer to the kitchen window and heard “praise you, praise you, praise you...” Max’s head was cocked sideways, obviously wondering what this new game was.

My head was cocked too, with that 'clueless Mom' look on my face.
',',',',',',',',',',',

Shouting Freedom!

2009-09-23T21:32:00.000-07:00

No house payments. No debt. It looks like a possibility this week, and it floors me! Literally! I'm laying on the floor! OK, I'm up again. While I was there I did some leg raises, because I'm very efficient, you know.

We've talked about selling our home periodically, but since Jerry's gone on a hunting trip this week research has become my primary project. In my prayers and meditations I've wondered if we should sell and just plan on living in a trailer for awhile. The idea of financial freedom is intoxicating!

Jerry and I have worked so hard to live simply and spend carefully in order to keep me at home and take care of our greater treasure - our children. Now it looks like there's a bend in our road.

FREEEDOMM!!!

This scripture has been on my refrigerator for about 4 weeks now,

"The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail. Isaiah 58:11"

Because my heart is in tune with the entire chapter of Isaiah 58 (my work for needy children, caring for the poor, fasting, seeking his pleasure not mine), I believe the Lord will guide me always.

Guide me, dear Lord.

She Got Real Little!

2009-09-10T22:31:00.000-07:00

In the eyes of my 4-year-old little girl Amy, an airplane was an amazing thing. We walked down the long, wide hallway at Mahlon Sweet Airport with our friend (also named Amy) and her luggage. We sat on a hard seat in the waiting area and tried real hard not to be boisterous. She hid behind my leg when a stranger looked too long at her over his magazine.

Running down the walk outside, we tried to get to a spot in the parking lot where we could see our friend's plane climbing into the sky. I managed to direct Amy's eyes toward the right cloud. Then she saw it!

The plane got farther away. She kept getting distracted with a bug on the pavement, so I made her look again. Then farther. I got her to look again. I pointed out that the plane was getting harder to see, and I reminded her that Miss Amy was inside it.

After a while we couldn't detect the plane any longer. I love asking young children thoughtful questions, so I asked her what happened to Miss Amy.

My daughter searched the clouds, then matter-of-factly answered, "She got reeeeal little!"

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Six-Year-Old Fun

2009-08-26T17:26:00.000-07:00

My oldest grandchild, Ayden Paul, turned 6 last month! Happy Birthday again, Ayden! He lives more than 2000 miles away and I don't get to see him very often, so we need to come up with some long-distance fun!

Six years old is a great age for silly stuff, so I found some knock-knock jokes for him. I usually don't care for knock-knock jokes because they can be "in your face" rude, but here are two that I think are ok:

me: knock knock
you: who's there?
me: vitamin
you: vitamin who?
me: vitamin in, it's time to party!

Here's another one:
you: knock knock
me: who's there?
you: cow - go
me: cow - go who?
you: no, silly, cow go MOO!

So grab a kid, share some chewing gum (not already chewed, of course), and have some silly, jokin', lovin' time! Grandma's orders!

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

Muscle Mama

2009-08-19T13:47:00.000-07:00

Grunt, groan, strain, wobble. That's me, lying on my back on the floor, working to lift my leg at just the right angle to stretch a muscle in my thigh (I can't remember the name of it right now).* I keep hearing the portion of scripture in my mind "strengthen the feeble knees" as I'm working, but I don't think this is exactly what it means. Does it?

While I hold my leg aloft, I'm counting seconds and pumping my arms with lightweight hand weights strapped to my wrists. And so I won't put it off, I'm doing all this as soon as I crawl out of bed in the morning!

The purpose of all this? A wind of change. My former foster daughter is here this week. (I've got to find a better label for her than "former" - it just doesn't describe how important she is to us.) We're enjoying our chores and shopping trips together. I'm going through a season of fasting from one meal a day, and taking more time for prayer. Closets and files are getting reorganized. Unnecessary things that have gathered in corners of our home are finally being addressed.

I've gotten lazy in some ways, too busy in others. I think all my parts relate to each other more than I know. Working my thigh muscle stabilizes my knee. Fasting dramatically affects my prayer life. Praying restores peace and clarity of thinking. Clean closets restore order. Organized files improves efficiency.

And laying on the floor? Well, we all need to lay around sometimes!

*vastus medialis oblique

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Almost Free

2009-08-12T11:51:00.000-07:00

It's amazing what you can find for almost free these days.

I found a step for our tent-trailer at Goodwill – $1.99. With my tentative knees, this was a welcome addition to our camping equipment. No more “falling out” of the doorway!
And a pretty red cotton sweater – $6.99.
A rooster for my hens – free.
A couch on Craigslist – free.
Tomato plants are blooming on my back deck. I found them late in the season – half price.

Chicken feed can be expensive, but since my birds roam about and eat more than half of what they need in my yard (including weeds!) – almost free (well, kinda).
More eggs are coming than I need - can't determine cost yet, but almost free! At least the entertainment value of keeping chickens is – free! They continually amuse me. Far healthier for my mind than watching TV.

Red Bartlett pears are growing on my tree – free.
Dragging hoses to water the yard and pear tree gives me a workout – free.
Our well pumps clean water – almost free!
A 2- and 3-lb set of hand weights (one from Goodwill) to help my tendinitis improve – $7.99. Way better than prescription rehab!
Any book I would like to read can be ordered from our library – free.
We’ve received an education about raising chickens, investments, computers, copyediting, writing, Oregon history, literature, and zillions of other things from our library – free. (I put in a purchase request for Dorcas Smucker’s books so now anyone in our area can enjoy her stories!)

Staying in touch with 238 friends and family every day on Facebook – almost free.
Another workout: walking 2 miles to sing, pray, and get the mail – free.

Our home is simple, but our lives are rich. Many nights I can stand outside and enjoy more stars than I will ever count – free.
And the grins of recognition on my grandchildren’s faces? That's priceless!

Shopping on a Hot Day

2009-07-28T19:23:00.000-07:00

Since I'm currently between projects, I have employed myself in the useful endeavor of saving money! Shopping for an ergonomic keyboard and a new mouse followed this plan:

1. Go to Office Max and play with the display models, taking them off the shelf and tapping lightly on each one, grabbing the mouse and clicking the buttons repeatedly until I am satisfied that somehow I have learned something from these actions.

2. Go home and research the customer reviews on each model (nearly 220 of them) at Amazon.com.

3. Carefully decide my favorites and go back to Office Max to rule out the ones I don't want.

4. Write down prices to compare.

5. Go back home and put in my order at Amazon.com.

I followed this very scientific procedure this week and bought a Logitech keyboard set for $44.95, including shipping. (The list price at Office Max was $129.00.) I don't think Jerry would exactly call my method scientific, but that's ok--I'm on the warpath now to find him some mossy oak pants for his bowhunting season!

Amy and I are also reviewing Consumer Reports magazine online to find the best value in room air conditioners. In our little town today the temperature reached 108 degrees! Our strategy is to live in front of our little lonely air conditioner when the house is hot until they go on sale. We'll see if we can hold out.

My friends in Zambia must know that I am quite a wimp in the heat. Before we had the air conditioner, Jerry would come home from work on a 90-plus degree day to find me soaked to the skin working on his dinner with a wet bath towel over my shoulders. I wanted so much to be tough, like the Little House on the Prairie stories, but its effect was real. I would squint my eyes when asked a question, and answer with indecisiveness; and my muscles would melt and make it difficult to cross the room. What a wimp!

On days like today, God hears my thankfulness for electricity and appliances MANY times!

When in fellowship sweet we shall sit at His feet, or we'll walk by His side in the way. What He says we will do, where He sends we will go. Never fear, only trust and obey.

I’m Coming Back!

2009-07-23T12:48:00.000-07:00

I google searched for exercises to help my tendinitis this week (elbow and wrist pain) and started right in with stretching and gingerly working the tendons that hurt. Yea, it’s helping!

It’s been about 6 weeks since I left my transcription job in the LCC Health Clinic. I had basically worked myself too hard, wanting so badly to do well that I wasn’t listening to the complaints from my joints. Gripping the mouse, almost strangling the poor guy, and pounding on the keyboard to get a few more lines done before the deadline only caused more self-induced stress.

Now the wrist braces are off, the elbow strap is gone, and I’ve restarted my workouts in the pool. I am so thankful for movement, thankful that I can be well again, thankful to Jesus for progress.

My “word for the day” is unwind. Just like I open up my fingers and straighten them against their stiffness, I need to unwind my mind from the concerns of life. I imagine our bodies and our minds are more connected than we know.

On a Sabbath Jesus was teaching in one of the synagogues, and a woman was there who had been crippled by a spirit for eighteen years. She was bent over and could not straighten up at all. When Jesus saw her, he called her forward and said to her, "Woman, you are set free from your infirmity." Then he put his hands on her, and immediately she straightened up and praised God (Luke 13:10-13 NIV).

Skateboarding Grandma

2009-07-12T17:41:00.000-07:00

A bulky black wrist brace adorns each arm and an elbow strap hugs my sore right elbow. Rising out of the car is difficult until I get my legs under me, and I move about a bit stiffly at first. My knees are unsteady from a sports injury, and my wrists and elbow hurt from typing too much.

But believe it or not, after my 4-year-old granddaughter Alyssa looked me over briefly the other day, she asked,

"Grandma, where's your skateboard?"

A Grandma for Six Years (smile)!

2009-07-09T10:48:00.000-07:00

Make a Smilebox greeting

All that I accomplished this morning from 7:30 to 10:30 was creating this work of art - my grandson's birthday card (click on PLAY above) and cleaning up a pile of doggy poo. Guess which was more fun! (you've got to be kidding...)

Thank you, Lord, for giving me children and grandchildren. Thank you for their wives who love You and are wonderful mommies! Grandma gets to celebrate, too! (doin' a silly little happy grandma dance!)

A Bucket, A Child, A Cherry Tree

2009-07-03T23:37:00.000-07:00

Offer a child a bucket and a cherry tree, and you've got a special day!

Throw in an old friend (I found her on Facebook) and offer her daughter some chickens to supplement her existing flock. Then take the bold step to invite the whole family over to pick them up. This was the recipe I'd proposed, and they bravely took me up on my invitation, not knowing if I'd be pleasant company or not! (Her daughter had never met me, for we had parted ways shortly after her birth.)

What a fun day! Tummies and cheeks full of cherries, popsicles on a stick, chickens in our Coop da Ville, a wobbly ladder, two grandmas enjoying non-stop "visitin'."

My daughter Amy remarked how nice it was to have children around again. She, who had prayed and asked God for a sister when she was 5 years old but wanted to change her mind when we started collecting foster children!

Ya know, we both enjoyed giving ourselves away that day. A good reminder to "live for others" instead of for ourselves - we were amazingly blessed. I think they were too!

The Quiet House

2009-06-26T10:50:00.000-07:00

On our last field trip to Salem I overheard a young “mother of many” sighing. With managing her tribe, homeschooling, housekeeping, afternoon sports and all, she lived in constant activity. Of course she wondered how life would be when the children were grown and she’d have hours of quiet to herself. You know, the kind of quiet where you aren’t concerned about what they’re up to since they’re so quiet!

I just smiled. “It’s pretty nice.”

I don’t hear my foster daughters’ giggles any more, but the memories are sweet. I don’t wonder if nail polish was just spilled on the carpet or if the youngest made it to the toilet in time (and remembered to close the door).

The laundry gets all the way done, folded, and put away now. And meals are what Jerry and I like. I can call my mother and arrange to spend the afternoon shopping for my niece’s bridal shower gift with her – and spend as much time as we need. I can linger with my arms around my Dad and tell him how important he is to me. They get more of my attention now, which they so patiently waited for all these years.

Thank God for the changing seasons! When I was younger than 50, I enjoyed His blessing on my endeavors. When I am older than 50, I enjoy His blessing on my new endeavors. I still lean hard on His arm when I am weak or disappointed. I continue to look for His direction when I’m bewildered. He is still my closest friend in the night. He alone comprehends my joy when I look into my grown son’s eyes. These things will not change, but He is faithful to bring me through changes.

Switching gears here, I need to mention Chris in Mauritania. He was killed this weak by Al-Qaeda, shot down in the street by extremists who exalted that they’d taken care of an infidel for Allah. He leaves behind his wife and 4 children.

My son and his wife knew them in the late 1990s, and I saw on Facebook yesterday that there are many people praying for Chris’ family as they return to the states.

To share the news of God’s love with others is worth the risk. I am so glad that there are people like Chris who took that risk for me.

Hold them, Jesus.

+++++++++++++++++++++

To Just Be, or Not to Be

2009-06-12T12:40:00.000-07:00

The junior high school librarian saw me steal quietly up to the counter gripping a large white book. She knew its name. She knew my name. This was the ninth week I had come in to have her stamp the check-out card “RENEWED.”

Nervous and shaking like some sort of addict, I closed it quickly and covered its title with my jacket, hoping to draw no attention to it or to me.

A New You. How I desperately wanted a new me! I devoured its advice, practiced its exercises, studied the hair-do and make-up techniques, even traced some of the drawings to file away in my notebook. But nothing really changed. The length of borrowed time on the book was renewed, but I wasn't!

Week after week of studying A New You, I was still the old me. I began to worry that someone might find out that I wasn’t perfect by now, or at least a bit improved. What a hopeless race to nothing!

I'M SO GLAD I'M NOT IN JUNIOR HIGH ANY MORE,

but I still struggle with being content in my present state. I should know better, but I have to continually let go of my selfish ambition to BE something, and rest in who God has made and what He has given. I don't have to prove myself to anyone, just keep on loving Him with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength; and love my neighbor as myself.

That is all. That is the best me!

Broken-Toothed Fan

2009-05-28T13:18:00.000-07:00

It's been knocked around a few too many years, I suppose. The box fan that sits on my bedroom windowsill looses a piece of its plastic every time I bump it with the sliding window. It's easy to stick my fingers into its mouth to retrieve the pieces and toss them. But the bottom line is - it keeps doing its job!

Why throw some old things away? It's in my bedroom on a high windowsill, so my grandkids won't be sticking their fingers into it and injuring themselves. We have a lot of windows and a lot of fans to help us stay cool in the summer, so I could make do without it; but why should I? Sure, it's dusty and grimy, and broken in many places, but for now I find that charming.

It smiles its jagged smile at me when I'm laying in bed enjoying its breezes. It reminds me that my surroundings don't necessarily need to have the appearance of perfection in order to be appreciated (and perfect).

This week I am wearing two wrist braces to promote healing in my wrists and right elbow. The pain has only worsened the past few weeks, even after trying different strategies and positions at work to relieve the stress on my joints. Now I must put a halt to it all and take a break, before it causes more extensive damage. Aside from my homework and a little e-social activity (Facebook, email, and blogging), I will avoid working much with my hands for a time.

That might be really tough for me. I enjoy being a "doing" person, like my father. I love to put my hands to a task and see immediate fruits for my labors. I don't enjoy backing off and taking the easy way physically. It seems I've been doing that a lot lately... Surprisingly, though, I am not distressed by it! There's nothing wrong with living with my imperfections. I may be missing something, like my fan is, but I still get the job done.

I will sing of the mercies of the Lord for ever: with my mouth will I make known Your faithfulness to all generations. Psalm 89:1

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My Face is Falling

2009-05-14T09:18:00.000-07:00

My mirror image tells me I'm mad about something, or tired, or ornery. Can you believe that I was just whistling a little tune and thinking about some happy times? My face betrays me!

It has happened to every woman before me, and yet it surprises me. The muscles in my face just aren't holding it up the same way they always did. Though it's nice they are relaxing (I guess), it makes me look mean!

People look at me differently now when I drive down the highway. I thought it was just because I'm not as interesting to look at with gray in my hair. That's mostly true, but when I glance in my rear view mirror and see a crotchety face glaring back, I know I wouldn't want to spend too much time looking at that expression either!

I will be more careful to not judge an older person's outward expression too harshly.

The Simple Woman

FOR TODAY May 14, 2009
Outside My Window...my dog stares back from the pasture - not believing I would DARE to put her out there alone today.
I am thinking...I need to confess to my dear family and friends that yes, I have neglected the important things in order to pursue too much work and education this spring.
I am thankful for...long-term, faithful relationships.
From the kitchen...the plants in the windowsill are slurping up the water I just gave them.
I am wearing...comfortable clothes to do my homework in.
I am creating...a heart at rest though I have regrets.
I am going...to make a "to do" list to prepare for our weekend bonfire party. We will sit around the bonfire pit with our guitars and watch the children play.
I am reading...Basic Mathematics and Medical Transcription: Fundamentals and Practice.
I am hoping...I can maintain that place of peace when my guests are here and they see that I have neglected my housework.
I am hearing...Jesus saying to the storm, "Peace, be still..."
Around the house...the rivets on the Levis are bouncing inside the clothes dryer walls, and I am refraining from writing my initials in the dust on the piano.
One of my favorite things...an excited chicken running across the yard.
A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week: Turn my heart back to trusting God in E V E R Y thing!
Here is picture thought I am sharing...(unable to upload picture today)

The Veins in Mother's Hands

2009-05-02T19:40:00.000-07:00

The shiny brown pews in the church were solid wood, and too temptingly slippery for any wiggly little boy to stay still on. Little girls didn't wiggle as much, 'cause if they did the skin on their bare legs would screech like fingernails on a chalkboard!

My young mother patiently taught us to sit still and listen to the sermon. Sitting quietly was a tall order for sure, but she was patient and wise. Once in awhile she brought something in her purse to help; like a jar of bugs for my brother to gawk at, or a pad of paper for me to doodle on. I was keenly aware of my father's gaze from the choir, so I worked hard to impress him with my quiet reverence.

I remember my mother's hands folded in her lap, and how the veins on them would stand out as she rested them there. To entertain myself I would trace the veins and push on them under her skin. This would irritate her, and she'd draw them back.

As she grew older I watched her hands change. And when her mother, my dear grandmother, passed away, I determined to reach out and touch her hands. I told myself, "these are the hands that spanked my Uncle Paul" and "these are the hands that stitched little dresses for my mother." "These are the hands that held mine when she taught me to pray." Now they were cold, lying still across her breast. Now she won't need them any more, I thought.

My own hands are changing. Their skin isn't so smooth any more, and their grip is weakened. Sometimes it's difficult to find a comfortable position to rest them in.
My hands have a scheduled number of days, then they will be still.

Lord, here are my hands. I offer them to You to do Your work, until the day we don't need them as they are any more. My life is in Your hands.

"They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall mount up with wings as eagles. They shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint. Teach me Lord, teach me Lord to wait."

--the words to a song taken from Isaiah 40 that my Uncle Paul's family taught us.
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Annie Toes Dog

2009-04-16T19:13:00.001-07:00

I think it's spring fever that caused me to start too many tomato, zucchini, and red poppy plants on my windowsill. I have ten pullets (immature hens) in my hen house, which should bring far more eggs than a family of three would need. Maybe I'm just living out my determination to never back down from starting new projects just because I might die (or something) before I complete them. Is there such a thing as an "overachiever" hormone in an over-50 woman?

We adopted Annie from the animal shelter last week. Why not start another project? I've never allowed an "indoor" dog before, so now I'm learning another new thing. Training her will be fun, though we've got to be patient with her timidness.

Perhaps I will sell eggs, or chickens, or vegetable starts. They're all intertwined, you see. The chickens can help eat the garden (so will the deer and rabbits), the dog's scent will deter critter-predators to some degree, and eggs from the farm are just too nice to pass up. I'll still get my hours of part-time work in and finish my homework. Why not try?

My husband came up with the name Annie. My 5-year-old grandson suggested "Toes." He noticed all her toenails are black except for one. Such an observant guy!
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An After Easter Story

2009-04-16T18:51:00.000-07:00

I remember my father singing in our church's Easter cantata (a musical story). Usually it was a repeat performance - where he'd sing the voice of Satan the tempter harassing Jesus. I used to hate it that he sang it every year (it seemed), but he had the deep, rich baritone voice the part called for!

In our Christian school it was my sons who were chosen for the part of Satan or of vices like the character of "drugs and alcohol." Our drama staff explained that because my boys were so well grounded, it was felt my boys wouldn't relish the part in an unhealthy way.

My oldest son is one of our worship leaders and playwrights. Well, this Easter Sunday he hung on a cross for the third time. But this time he was the thief that repented and I got to see him walk off into paradise with Jesus.

Whew! Glad he finally made it!

8=8=8=8=8=8=8=8=8=8=

Hired!

2009-04-07T16:36:00.000-07:00

I just found out today that I will start work in the clinic as a Medical Transcriptionist on Thursday! I'm hired!

I get to work with a's and b's and c's and d's... and get paid for it! This excitement is voiced from an old girl who falls asleep with her nose in a dictionary - one of her favorite books!

Besides that, I finally enrolled in the math class that I knew I would need to take thirty-five years ago. This definitely illustrates a turn in my life. I waited for the right time to strengthen my numbers-handling (and procrastinated), and here I am!

In the clinic I will be supporting the care providers by helping create and maintain health records. I feel that I fit the role of "supporter of others" very well.

Right now I need to run and support my husband's desire for warm cookies tonight.

@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*@*

Is This Being Double-Minded?

2009-04-02T17:12:00.000-07:00

I wasn't going to do it, but I registered for classes again today.

This is an example of jumping on an opportunity that presents itself--that could possibly change the course of my life. It's not black or white, right or wrong. It's just an opportunity! I was offered a paying position in the campus health clinic as a medical transcriptionist! I could only accept it though, if I were a current student.

Three days ago I was searching for our next dog from animal shelters, planning to transplant my windowsill tomatoes, and rewriting recipes in my homemade cookbook. Now I'm a student again, just like that!

So maybe my whining about not being able to be a strong professional in both fields was just air leaking from my brain.

I'm not whining now!

I am a solid medical transcriptionist for health documents, and a good copyeditor for book publishing. The manuals and guides are different; but I have, and can learn them.

I finished proofreading the manuscript just last week and had no prospects for work coming in. This opportunity was right on time! If it seems like I'm double-minded; deciding to stay home one week, then changing my mind the next--maybe it's true! I honestly thought I would be home spring term.

I remember though. I did ask God for productive, meaningful, profitable work. Here it is, knocking on my door!

"'"'"'"'"'"'"'"'"'"'"'"'"'"'

Imagine this: Your grandmother goes into the administration office at your high school and waits in line with your friends for her turn to talk to a counselor! That was me! I needed a copy of my dusty old transcript from the vault...

My Husband's Girlfriend

2009-03-30T23:32:00.000-07:00

I've heard Dr. Laura Schlessinger ask ladies that call in to her radio talk show this excellent question.

"Are you your husband's girlfriend?"

I sincerely appreciate what she is saying, though at first it catches me off guard--I don't want to think about my husband having a girlfriend. And when I look at the silver streaks in my hair (the natural kind) it's hard to talk to that face in the mirror and say "girlfriend."

But it's true! My personal happiness is not my husband's responsibility, and I need to be reminded of that sometimes. I need to remember that it really is quite nice being his girlfriend and thinking along those lines again. Loving him, listening to him, acknowledging who he is and what is important to him. I should know by now what makes him smile; we've been married 31 years!

This man of mine likes me to bring up his favorite subjects: deer and elk hunting, football scores, pizza toppings. He likes walking in the front door and smelling dinner, or better yet, cookies baking! He may not comment on these things, but he absorbs the pleasure he receives from them. And he knows after all these years that I do these things for him - not necessarily for me.

It's been a bit rough adjusting to cooking just for two, and I haven't been as kind to him as I was when we had a house full. Nowadays I'm reminding myself that God answered a lot of my prayers when I married this man, and looking after just him is an honorable job description indeed!

When my youngest child turns twenty in two months and my children are all adults, they'll just have to deal with the fact their aging father has a girlfriend!

tee-hee!

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Word of the Day: Buttinski

2009-03-26T14:54:00.000-07:00

It means: a person given to butting in; a troublesome meddler. Yes, it's in the Merriam-Webster Collegiate Dictionary that I use for my proofreading and copyediting!

I wonder what my mother would have done if she'd heard me call my little sister a buttinski!