Happy New Year!

We celebrated it as usual at Moss Landing, a little fishing village on the Pacific Coast. It’s the absolute best place to start fresh in my view. Something about standing on the shore listening, watching with your eyes and ears as well as your heart makes it easier to leave the previous year behind and have hope for the year ahead.

Every year is a bit different, and this year was even more so with the roaring of a bulldozer silhouetted against the sky. Something about taking sand and silt out of the marina. We never quite got a good explanation. We could walk south and still be out of range of the sight and sound of it, and hear the foghorn.

This year it was harder to let my worry go and I never did entirely, but we were blessed with 4 days of great weather and I was so thankful for that. Mom’s health issues right now are tethered to my heart. It’s a learning process, the letting go. I am so very thankful I have a best friend who is so in tune to me and my moods. She understands the emotional roller coaster better than anyone having gone through it with her Mom.

Mr. Briggs was a champ on the road. At 19 he is still a perfect cat. We got him fresh shrimp from Phil’s and once we were settled he was one happy cat. The camp host cats Moxey and Soxie were still there to greet us as well. All in all, it was a wonderful start to 2020.

I continue the battle with extra weight. Last year it was 10 pounds, now it’s 15. I gave up the gym membership due to break-ins at the parking lot there. I am trying to get out and walk more, increase my steps. I have yet to brave the scale, I know that’s what would really give me the impetus I need. Soon.

On school break I acquired piles of books from the library that made me very happy. I heartily recommend the new one by Mitch Albom, “Finding Chika” (have Kleenex handy.) I will continue to write about prayer, which is what started this whole blog way back in 2009. Just keep praying, folks. Even if you aren’t sure anyone is listening.

I was given a gift long ago. I can’t even remember when, but I know my Mom probably had something to do with it. She has prayed for me ever since I was born. I have always known God is listening. What a gift! I don’t ever say it in a boastful way because I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it has nothing to do with me and everything to do with God. 

He loves you. Whoever you are, whatever you’ve done. Invite Him in to your life and see what happens. Leave your heart, eyes and ears open! And Happy New Year to you faithful souls still hanging in here with me. Bless you.

Extraordinary Grace


This is a thankful post on a day we celebrate things like that. It’s about a regular day, yesterday, which was just about perfect. To start, I was off work and the anticipation of having five days off contributed to a general feeling of well being. That in itself is something to give thanks for. In addition we had a real honest to goodness storm with rain and wind. It wreaked havoc with leaves, branches and debris in its wake, but the air was fresh and clean and I took deep life-giving breaths as I stood on the river bank.

The river rolled by looking so smooth and pure I had to stop and say what I call an “awe” prayer. It’s the kind of prayer that is more just an exclamation of exultant joy at the beauty that God has given us. The yard was a mess. I dragged a few big branches to the river’s edge and threw them in. I took a few photos and then went back up our little hill to the Motorhome.

The floor Elaine put in looks fantastic, gives it a whole new look. It was a real pleasure to see that ugly linoleum gone. I found a classical Christmas station which was very pretty but was a bit melancholy so I switched it to Smooth Jazz Christmas and that added to the general feeling of well-being.

After we got ready to tackle items on our list, we went to breakfast at the Hollywood cafe and as usual the staff was wonderful and the food was excellent. We had Joe’s special which was scrambled eggs with hamburger, cheese, fresh spinach with hash browns and toast. We stopped by the Animal Shelter to measure the shelf for the carpet for Coco. Last time I was there he had a terrible trying to get a grip on the slick shelf.

After that we got all the stuff on our list including baseboards to finish off the floor. We had a great time getting everything on our list. I saw some truly miserable people at the grocery store which made me sad for them. I have been where they are.

There was a time not so long ago where I was unmoved by everything. It was a tough time. I didn’t care about reading, nature, anything that usually lifted my spirits. If not for Elaine (and lots of prayer) I don’t know what I would have done. She patiently told me to snap out of it and that made me laugh despite myself. Seriously though, it took lots of prayer, counseling and “motoring” through it. And the Doctor put me on a low dose of Zoloft, which I still take. There may be a time when it’s right to go off of it, but for now it’s working for me.

I guess that’s why I am so grateful for the good days. I remember the despair. There are many more good days now and I enjoy going to the library once again. People wonder why I go every week, but it’s like a tonic to me, even with all the homeless hanging around there. I am happy books make me happy again.

The end of the day had a bit of drama but nothing that tarnished the day for me. The opportunity presented itself to give Mom a hug and that was appreciated. We ended the day with a bit of Amaretto, a yearly Christmas treat. I fell asleep to the sound of rain again. It was marvelous.

It put me in mind of another day a long time ago when Mom and I had a good day together and we were listening to Susan Boyle sing “A Perfect Day.” Mom said, “This was a perfect day.” I told her, yes indeed, it was. 

It lives in my memory, and so will this day. I wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving from my humble Prayer Closet.

Everything is blooming most recklessly; if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the night. Rainer Maria Rilke

A breath between life

 

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How long we wait,  with minds as quiet as time…..Thomas Merton 

It took half a day or so to work its magic, the sea. I tossed and turned the first night, rolling thoughts over and over like the waves themselves. The next morning I let the beach release me from all that was troubling. I let myself fall under the spell of the sound of the surf, rolling, crashing and thunderous. 

I marvel once again at a Creator who would put so many mile markers right in front of us for us to find Him, thankful that He reveals Himself to me this way.

I remember when I was a kid, how that first glimpse of the straight blue line of that body of water against the horizon filled me with an excitement I could barely contain. Like an old friend it beckoned. Then, it was all the other stuff mixed in too. The Boardwalk, the Merry Go Round, the Taffy window. Now, I need only the sand under my feet and that pounding relentless surf.

Some say it’s just gravity that keeps it from flowing onto the earth, but I know the voice, the power behind it all. There was a time Job had questions and God had answers. All of us at some point have questions attached to our grief, our suffering. I ask why my Mom has to navigate her way through this betrayal of her memories. She remembers when remembering brought comfort.  Now her memories have turned against her; reminding her of all she has misplaced.

But the most important thing is she still knows the answers and so do I. Some things we just won’t understand this side of Heaven. She still knows her God and that He is supremely good and that never wavers for her. As she told me yesterday, “She still belongs to God. He still holds her.”

I walk and walk. And I let the surf wash over my inner soul. The deep place where the Holy Spirit rests in the quiet. I hear God’s reply with each step. And it’s all the answers I need. 

Who enclosed the sea with doors when bursting forth, it went out from the womb; when I made a cloud its garment and thick darkness its swaddling band, and I placed boundaries on it and set a bolt and doors, and I said, Thus far you shall come, but no farther; and here shall your proud waves stop? Job 38:8-11

Yes, the sea has worked its magic once again. We are blessed to be able to come back to this place. This peaceful place that has come to seem like home. Doubly blessed to have someone to share this leg of my journey with. 

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This is the mysterious thing about prayer.  It often happens even when you’re not intentionally trying to pray. It’s like riding a bike. If you thought about everything that goes into it you would probably not get yourself down the road. It’s like the other morning, wide awake at 2:00 AM. “I should pray,” I thought. “Why can’t I be more like those “Holy” people who get up and pray and seek God in the middle of the night instead of finding something to eat or drink or read?”

And this is the crazy thing. I got up and started talking to God about just that. Sometimes the best prayer sessions start when you’re not even trying. You’re just talking to the God who created you. Who knows us better than we know ourselves.

It’s reawakening to the knowledge that as believers, we stand saturated by Grace.  And that Grace never leaves us. Not even when we feel undeserving of it. We know we are undeserving and that leaves us breathless with thanksgiving once again.

This is the intimacy the Psalmists knew:

In the morning O Lord, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait in expectation.” Psalm 5:3

But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation.” Psalm 13:5

For you, O Lord, have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling.” Psalm 116:8

And my favorite:

O Lord, you have searched me and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thought from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down. You are familiar with ALL my ways. Psalm 139:1-3

I like to think prayer is what happens while we’re making plans to pray. You don’t have to have just the right setting or the right moment. The time is right now, today. In every moment; every time we thank Him for the weather, the birds, our health. Prayer is giving words to our very breath, as Acts 17 says: “In Him we live and move and have our being.”

It’s been awhile since I’ve posted and it feels good. If I can only move one person closer to knowing God with my words, then it’s all worth it.

I Choose Happy

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That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat by the lake. Such large crowds gathered around him that he got into a boat and sat in it, while all the people stood on the shore. Then he told them many things in parables, saying: A farmer went out to sow his seed……” Matt. 13: 1-3

There is a little kitchen towel I have. It used to be very bright orange and sunny yellow. Because of my old bug yellow will always be a happy color for me. On it are printed the words, “Choose Happy.” Lately there have been things pressing in on me. School starting again, the future, the transitory nature of where we are living, Mom’s illness.

And currently we are facing a homeless/drug element in our town. Transients are camping by the river and there are pictures of feces and you name it on the shore. They clean it up periodically and then they all come back. That has made me extremely upset and restricted my activities on the river this summer. I’ve been wondering why the environmentalists so prevalent in our state are not coming out of the woodwork on this issue. I feel robbed. Cheated.

The thief (Satan) comes only in order to steal and to kill and to destroy. I have come that they (we) may have life and have it in abundance. John 10:10

Everything in this world was set in motion and created by God. Perfectly in balance. The effects of sin have tarnished it. The evidence is all around us. Jesus came to counteract the eternal result of that destruction.  He also makes it possible to supersede all the negativity around us and still embrace life, and beauty, and hope and joy. We don’t have to let the world steal it. It is a choice we have.

It was with that attitude I awoke yesterday morning with a defiant stubbornness to  “Choose Happy.” I shook out the towel from the cabinet, hung it up and claimed Jesus promise. I took it into my heart and prayed it as a mantra all day. And you know what? My attitude changed.

This morning I walked down to the river and saw the magnificent beauty that was there all along. A gift of joy returned. I choose life. I choose gratitude for where we are now. I choose thankfulness for the beautiful message my Mom left me on the phone. That she loves me and glad that I am her daughter.

You see, when I read the parable of the sower and the soil today I realized that while the seed started out good, it was the conditions of the ground it fell into that varied. Each day we are given a choice and each day we live for Christ the choice can only be life. Because He died and rose again to give it to us.

It’s an old old story, but one I never get tired of telling.

Be at peace with your life my friends. He’s got this. He’s got you.

Living Lessons

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My Mom (on right) with two classmates around 1945 give or take a few years. 

I’m not sure how we got to May so fast. The week was long. I had a cold and made it all five days to work. By the time I actually got to sit with Mom it was Friday. It was warm in the house so she suggested we go sit outside in the swing. I said that would be nice. I know that is one of her safe places. Her view on the world she has always been so comfortable in. I bought her foundation the other day but I noticed she hadn’t put it on.

We settled outside but the unsettled look resided in her eyes. She was describing how she felt and I made my best effort to make her feel at ease with what she was feeling because that’s what Mothers do and that’s what Daughters do when they become Moms. Whether they have kids or not is beside the point.

When you care for your Mom at some point you become one.

She struggled to put it into words. I said, “I know, you just feel out of sorts, like something is out of place.” She said, “It’s not like I am sick or anything, I’m not throwing up.” This is what she always says. I tell her I feel the same way on certain days. And I do. Just being in this crazy world is enough to make you feel like that.

A Mom and 3 kids came by and the one on the skateboard crossed over to our side. “You look good on that,” she called out to the girl. The girl smiled and sped by. I wanted to ask her if she knew who she just passed. Someone who has been a matriarch of Glenhurst Street for 50 plus years. Someone who always had a fresh pot of coffee on for the neighbors. Someone who raised other people’s kids for years, held Bible studies around her table, always the first to go meet the new people on the block.

Old people……old cats……Briggs is staring at his bowl now like he never ate and he has just finished two shrimp. Sometimes I think he is lost too. We have made him padded surfaces all around for his fragile hips. We do our best to make him feel at ease in his old age. When he howls, we call him and then seems to come back from where he was. He is down to ten pounds from the beefy sixteen of his ninja cat climbing jumping youth. We are so glad he is still with us. 

Mom was wistful but anxious as her vibrant blue eyes surveyed the yard……”I still remember when your Dad brought home that tree,” she said. “It was in a little pot and I can still see it. Now look at those leaves, that trunk and how big it is. Only God could do something like that.”

“Yes,” I said, “I agree.”

I sat across from her on the chair, but inside I was sitting next to her with my arm around her tight. I didn’t want to give her what I had. I told her that, and she said, “I don’t want to give you what I have either.” She pulls old memories from a rich vault and relives them over and over. We listen as if it’s the first time we heard.

She says, “Everyday I thank God for all His blessings. He has been so good to me.” I replied, “Yes, and with Him we never have to be alone.”

“Yes, that’s the best part,” she sighed.

Mom, you are still teaching me. You don’t need short term memory to be strong, courageous and wise. I only hope I never stop learning.

 

Peace Be Still

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I’m sitting here hunkered down in the Motorhome nervously watching the tops of the trees blow and roar. I used to love lying in bed listening to storms with the wind whipping through the trees but that was before we had 3 trees topple in the February of 2017. They were 50-year-old trees and one hit the house, thankfully no one hurt. But it takes its toll. Now we joke and say we have PTSD whenever we hear of the winds picking up. 

I am sitting and praying for Jesus to please hold up the trees. I tell him, “All it would take is “Peace be still” from you and it would all be over. Then I thought of all the other storms we are facing and tears immediately sprang to my eyes. I worry about our stuff in the trailer…..all the stuff that used to fill our home and I don’t even know what shape it’s in.

I think of my car, still wrecked in the car port, undrivable. I think how nothing really has worked out the way I thought it would here. I thought of the world situation and that it just really too much. 

But then in almost the same breath I thanked God for keeping us all safe. I thanked him for this place of beauty and that these storms, none of them will last forever.

I thanked Him that I got over this cold extremely fast. I thanked Him for my Tax return coming in just in time. I thanked Him for a friend who takes care of everything here while I am at work, or visiting my folks, or wherever…..and her positive and hopeful attitude and uplifting spirit.

I thought for the umpteenth time, there is always more to be grateful for than to fear. 

And I thanked Him for who He is. The Master and Commander who still has everything, including me in His capable hands. I think of how scared the Disciples must have been that night on the sea, how scared. And there was Jesus sound asleep. I think He was just testing them to see how long it would take before they woke HIm. 

I think of how long it takes me sometimes. When all I have to do is call His name. 

Life is grace. Sleep is forgiveness. The night absolves. Darkness wipes the slate clean, not spotless to be sure, but clean enough for another day’s chalking.

― Frederick Buechner

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