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Ring of Fire

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Last night I stayed out on the patio long. I was feeling what my Grandmother would have called “a bit blue.” Lately, I have felt out of step with the world around me. Like I am a few beats behind everyone else. Sometimes it helps to go outside and sit very still, to listen to the bigger rhythm. It’s like putting your finger on the earth’s pulse when you can no longer trust your own.

I lay my head back in the chair and was surprised by the moon directly overhead. I don’t know why it surprised me but I didn’t expect it to be there, it was too high in the sky, but who am I to argue with the moon?

This morning I stumbled over both the previously frozen peas and the ice pack that I use at night to beat back the flames that rise like coiled snakes that come from nowhere. I picture a cartoonish Satan in a red suit, shoveling coals, stoking the furnace within me with a gleeful smile on his face. I am up about 3 times a night exchanging the frozen peas with the ice pack and vice-versa.

My Doctor recommended a place that sells things that may help but she told me it was cash only. What does that even mean? She is into a more “holistic” approach to medicine and I agree, I don’t want to take synthetic hormones. Someone told me about Black Cohosh so now I am taking 540 mg a day. I can’t be sure it’s helping but I will keep taking it for now.

There is an upside. If sweating is healthy, I can’t have any toxins left in my system. I am my own mini-sweat lodge.

I move heavily through most days with a leaden soul. I miss the old me. I miss the self I used to be. I have fleeting moments of happiness and then it’s back to the dull gray wash. I have learned that sometimes all you can do is move through the moment obediently and grab onto the joy when it comes.

I feel like a bit player in my own life and an imposter at work going through the motions. Like on “Seinfeld” when George Costanza got that job that he didn’t really get and went in to work everyday making up things to do in the office that wasn’t really his.

I joined a gym to beat back the ravages of time as well as all these symptoms and it does make me feel better, but I haven’t lost a pound. Most of the time I want to eat whole pies and plates of cookies.  It seems, the same furnace that stokes the flashes, stokes my appetite as well. If I am at home I look for things to graze on continually. I have sunk to dipping cookies in frosting, I am worse than an alcoholic.

And attached to everything else in this new phase of life, I feel a profound sense of shame that I am becoming “less than” “diminished” “devalued.” Being shown the back seat by the universe. I know that what I am feeling is temporary, and I know that God still strives with me.

He brings me little things like doves and blooming flowers and the moon.

And people I love who are always there for me. Above all, I haven’t lost my gratitude because I still have so much.

Despite it all, He remains my well that never runs dry. I will come through this, victory is mine. It always has been, through Him.

 

On Alzheimer’s and feeling lost

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We had plans to go to dinner with our neighbors from Canada who were leaving the next morning. She called me on the way to her Moms Carehome after work and asked if I would please go over and give them her apologies, that she wouldn’t be able to make it.

She was driving her route when she got the first two calls and couldn’t return them. After work, she returned the third call. One of the aides picked up. “Your Mom is not doing well, she is crying and asking why no one has been to see her and asking where her husband is?” He has been gone for almost a year and she hasn’t asked about him in just about that many months.

Her Mom has been in the facility over a year and she has settled reasonably well. But now, this.

The panic, the caregiver’s stress, in a moment it all came flooding back. Of course it never really left. Her days continue to be divided by work, home and going to see her Mom to do those tasks that seem to fall through the cracks continually.

I needed to go there, I heard the desperation in her voice and I thought maybe seeing another familiar person would help jog her Mom back into the present. I had to try.

When I got there they were seated at the dining table. E. was relieved to see me and her Mom perked up and said, “There’s Lori, Curtis must have come with her.” I groaned inwardly, and E. scurried around helping her Mom and assisting others at the table. I sat by Bethany and Joyce as they were passing out Dixie cups of ice-cream and had one myself.

Finally we got her to go back to her room, where we found she had been squirreling away socks and two bottles of water in her purse, ready to hit the road. Then the round of questions started all over again.

Where is Curtis?……When are we going home?……How long have I been here?……..What happened to the car?….. How much does all this cost?…..What do I have to do at the house?

It was like she was reliving the events of the past year all over again, back to square one.

E. looked over at me helplessly when Joyce asked where Curtis was for the 10th time. I shrugged helplessly back and mouthed the words…..”I don’t know.”

It was a day later that I had a kind of small personal epiphany. Sometimes, honestly, I feel just as lost as she does. I think we all do. We like to think we have an element of control, but as I sat in that room I wanted to ask the same questions Joyce was asking.

What happened to the last year? Where am I? Why do I feel so ill-equipped at handling day-to-day living sometimes? What happened to the person I was 5, 10, 15 years ago?

Sometimes life just beats the tar out of you.

By the time we left, Elaine was wiped out. She felt like she had propelled her Mom safely back to shore, but it took everything she had.

If dealing with Alzheimer’s has taught me anything, it’s taught me empathy. In watching Joyce, I see a bit of my own desperation and the desperation of the human condition in general. In the mirror of her lostness, I see my own.

It has also taught me the necessity of living one day at a time and doing the best I can with what God has given me. There are days that are hard, when you feel a little bit crazy, but then the next day is better.

And as long as God is the One rowing me safely back to shore, I will be okay.

How to hope after the unthinkable happens

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I saw her as I strolled on the back-forty of my brothers yard a couple of weeks ago in the early morning light. A flash of orange, she (or he) landed first on the fence, then fluttered down to hop among the grass, probably looking for breakfast among the dew. A robin sighting is always hope for me. I snapped her several different times before Tyler managed to scare her away. I couldn’t blame him, his enthusiasm was infectious as he ran to and fro, nose to the ground, seeming to thank me with a glance and wag of his tail every now and then.

Sometimes we need to cling to signs of hope however small when news comes to rock our world. I believe God created birds with a special role, that of singing out hope even when ours has run dry.

I draw back a memory of a time when my world was painted black. The morning after the call came that pulled the curtain down on life as we all knew it, my Mom looked out to see a robin on the grass. He was her little thread of hope and she clung to it. She also remembers thinking that she couldn’t believe the birds were still singing. The audacity of it all. How could they?

The other day as I was praying in the car, a dove came to sit on the lip of my sunroof. He perched there looking at me for a moment, I think we both surprised one another…..then he flew off. I could tell you many more stories than this. Of other times God has sent birds.

Yesterday I got a call that something unthinkable had happened to a family member. From then on my day kind of went on pause mode. I hadn’t seen them in years but we all grew up together as kids. It’s a bond forged by memories and stories and for many years our lives intertwined and we were close. My heart breaks for them, but they’ve always been a strong family. Even now, their house is filled and they are surrounded on all sides with love. For that I am grateful.

There is nothing I could tell them right now that could take away the awful sorrow, and I wouldn’t even pretend to try. If I could I would hold them close and share their tears. I called and left a message on their phone and for the longest time the beep didn’t come to leave a message, so I started talking anyway.

I don’t even remember what I said, I just wanted them to know that they were in my heart. Later, I got a text message from him thanking me for thinking of them. Something he said in his message makes me wonder how it’s possible for someone to not know they are loved despite all the evidence surrounding them? How can we be assured that they know it, and that they love themselves enough to accept it?

And today, when I got up, the doves were cooing, and the birds were singing again, just as if they didn’t know what was going on. They can’t help it, they know the way out of sorrow is to keep singing no matter what, it’s what God created them to do. They know that there is something still worth singing about even if we don’t.

In my heart is a prayer that they will get through this even stronger and that once again hope will be theirs; that they will find a way out of the sorrow with the love they have for one another.

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How many is too many?

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When I opened up Facebook this morning there was a wonderful array of posts on my Newsfeed. In fact, there were so many that I thought maybe I wouldn’t include mine. Sometimes I must admit, it feels a little bit like tossing a pebble on a pile of rocks. But I seem to be afflicted with the disease of words and a core belief that I think is common to all writers. What keeps me going is an idea that on the surface would seem almost absurd and almost egocentric.

That my words matter, and so do yours.

And not only that, they matter to God. He said, “In the beginning, was the Word.” And that Word was God. Words have always mattered, since the beginning of time. That comforts me, because even though sometimes it may feel futile to add mine to the burgeoning sea of words already out there, it isn’t.

We must all keep adding them, because behind all those words stands an individual who is unique in all creation.

I liken it to this field of flowers. Not one of us would ever dream to say, “There are far too many flowers out there.” What an absurd statement. In fact, everyone was pulled over to the side of the road with their cameras out. They just had to capture it. At first glance, all those flowers might have seemed alike, but when viewed collectively, it was breathtaking.

Conversely, when viewed close up, each one of those flowers would take our breath away with the intricacies of its beauty; just as a single bird call heard in the afterglow of a sunset can fill us with a melancholy sweetness, so the chorus of hundreds of birds at the rising of the sun fill us with joy. Collectively, or on our own, we are a perfect work of art, as the result of an act of love by our Creator.

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So write on, I say. Capture the unique beauty and individuality that belongs to you alone. And together, we will be a stunning picture of praise to our Creator.

Along the hard road to Jerusalem, Jesus looked at His disciples and said that if the people were kept from crying out in praise, the stones along the roadside would have had no choice but to cry out. I tell you, how many words are too many for a God who loved so much that He gave us everything He had?

I don’t know about you, but there will never be enough words to praise a God like that. He deserves all the words I have to my last breath, and when I have breathed my last and I find myself at His feet, I will have the beginning of an eternity to start all over again.

How to remain soft (when the world gets too hard)

 

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In any given day we are exposed to hundreds of bits and pieces of information at rapid fire pace. Some of them are totally useless. This is why I listen to the news only enough to know what is going on in the world and no more.

We live in a world of sensationalism; of endless noise, where the biggest, saddest story gets the headlines. It’s the stories that hold the most tragedy, the most grief that are waived endlessly in front of our eyes all day long. I wonder what all this does to our psyches?

For the most part, there is little we can do about any of the events we hear about every day. Added on top of that, we have family, friends, jobs and responsibilities. Things and people who can’t wait.

We tend to filter it all out in order of importance, but some of the other stuff leaks in anyway. We have to let some things slide. In fact, it gets easier and easier to let more things slide. How do we deal with all these things we can do nothing about? It’s a question I have been asking myself.

While I was back home, there were two obituaries in the paper. A young girl and a young man who should have had everything to live for committed suicide. One of them jumped in front of a train and the other shot herself. And then hungry displaced Ukrainian children and the missing Malaysian flight with 239 people…..gone.

I wonder if we are all much more desensitized than we realize. I wonder if it’s all making me more desensitized to events in my own world than I realize? It scares me to think that.

In the world of long ago, many of us lived in small communities. We knew each other and each others families. When Sally fell into a well, or when Billy fell off the tractor, we all gathered together to help. When someone died, we all cried together, prayed together.

We dressed in black and went to the funeral, brought food to the family.

And slowly everyone healed. Grew closer together. We had a sense of resolution. It felt like some kind of closure.

But now I wonder. And it makes me think that what I do is even more important than ever. This getting alone with God in the mornings. As of late, I have been thinking that maybe it’s just something I do out of habit like reciting a memorized prayer by rote.

But even memorized prayers have words with meaning, words that God can fan into flame with His power just like He can ignite our hearts to love all over again.

I think of Jesus when He was on this earth. I think of how hard it must have been to see the heartache and know that He could have just waved His hand and taken it all away. But He didn’t. He healed hearts and people one at a time, just like He wants us to do now.

Jesus had the ability to display perfect empathy in every situation. One person at a time. And He had to get away for a while too, even though He was God. 

He got alone by the water, alone on the mountain. Who are we to think we don’t need to?

Yesterday the parking lot beckoned like an oasis. On break I went out to my quiet car because my brain just wouldn’t quit. I closed my eyes and remembered the sound of the waves.

I was worried about my Mom who was sick and my Dad whose body is failing him in many ways. And I felt my brother’s wounds and sorrow too. I heard my niece processing her fears of missing me “when Nori goes back to work,” and I heard my Mom’s voice as she wistfully said, “Mom’s and daughters shouldn’t be separated.” I agree Mom. I hear you, you’re right. I felt it all, along with the joy.

As I sat there with the sun warming my shoulders, I threw a line of prayer out every now and then, not feeling it much. With my eyes still closed, I startled when I heard the rustle of wings close, and the unmistakable squeak of a dove as she landed. Right on the lip of my sunroof.

She stood staring down at me, so close we were almost eye to eye. I thought she might just fly into the car, but she just looked at me for a moment and flew off. It was a visitation. One moment of a hundred others in the day that stood out. A God moment.

And heading home, welcome words from a text on my phone.

“I am not going to the gym, I made dinner.” Oh, how I needed those words. A peaceful and restful evening after steak and asparagus. Oh yes, I will go to the gym tomorrow.

But for right now, this is how I heal. This is how we all heal each other.

Because sometimes, even after vacations, you still need a little rest.

Another slice please……..don’t mind if I do.

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Trip continued from yesterday……..

The next morning I was like a little kid, hyper and chomping at the bit to get down to the ocean because, well….the water was so close! I have never lost my excitement at getting that first glimpse of the water, it’s tied to so many good memories I have as a kid, and each time is magic, but breakfast was included in our stay and more importantly, I was in dire need of coffee.

As you can see, I fell in love with how the light was streaming in the morning windows…….and the coffee was much to my satisfaction. I had a feeling, since the night before, Nashua had shared with us that she enjoys a good cup of Turkish coffee. Somehow I knew it would be strong enough to stand up to my specifications and I was not disappointed.

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We were ushered to a table and given fresh orange juice, and a wonderful frittata filled with cheese and potatoes with a side of sausage and fresh fruit. It was all excellent and it tempered my anxiety about getting on the beach enough that I could sit and enjoy it, as well as take a couple of pictures.

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After that, a long walk on the beach was in order. We watched dogs play and collected some interesting rocks along the shore. The weather couldn’t have been better and that added to the almost surreal atmosphere. It was like God’s stamp of approval on the day. Having spent many cold and foggy days at the shore, I was ready for anything.

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When we came back we headed up to the rooftop again, since we had only seen it at night before. The view from the rooftop was stunning……….It is definitely yet another selling point to this Hotel. Unfortunately, the only photo I got was with my iPhone and it wasn’t very good, however you can check out the Hotel website, where you may be able to see it.

Another benefit of staying in the smaller Hotels is the people you meet. I have already told you about Nashua, but we also met a very charming young gentleman named Lance who also is employed by the Hotel. He was very well spoken, with an unbridled enthusiasm for life that was catching. He poured us each a glass of wine and the four of us talked together in the lobby for a very enjoyable hour or so and I never got the feeling they were merely being polite, they were really interested.

We also met a couple from Brisbane, Australia, both very friendly, celebrating their anniversary. They asked for a recommendation for dinner and we gave them the name of the place we were going to right down the Pier, the Sandbar Grill, a local hangout which was excellent. We ended up seeing them come in as we were finishing up. As we left they were getting on very well with the couple beside them.

Unfortunately I never knew quite what he said because his accent was so thick and he talked so fast, we never understood a thing he said. He sounded a lot like “Gimli” from Lord of the Rings. We nodded back and forth a lot. Fortunately, we understood his wife quite well so that helped.

We also met a very interesting lady named Rika, who is a film set designer in LA. She talked to Elaine quite a bit, being interested in just about everything. She wanted to know how long she had been driving her motor home.

She had an elegant, yet understated and humble way about her. Graceful in the way that always makes me feel somehow lumberous and awkward, while not meaning to. She is also part owner of two restaurants and I love the name they chose: Can’t Fail Cafe.

We were thinking of heading out after only one night but we were so captivated by Hotel 1110 that we had to stay another night and I am so glad we did. It was a great send-off to the rest of our trip along the coast. We ended up meeting up with Rika again at Phil’s for lunch before we all went our separate ways. Phil is famous for winning a throw-down against Celebrity Chef Bobby Flay for his Cioppino.

Hotel 1110 was a delightful surprise and I think I can speak for both of us when I say that we will be back this way again someday. Hopefully sooner rather than later.

A Perfect Slice of Time

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E. drove furiously into the night as we mapped our way to the exact address of Hotel 1110 on the Pacific coast. We were under the gun. The ad on the internet said the Hotel doors would be locked at 10 and it was fast approaching 9:15 when we finally called to make sure someone would be there to let us in by 9:30. The accented voice on the other line assured us she would be.

I made a couple of mistakes navigating, which made for a few stressful moments, and the first time we drove right past it. We had to drive up quite a few blocks before we were presented with an opportunity for a U turn.

“Is that it?” I said.

“I’m not sure, do you see a place to park?” She asked.

We drove back into a narrow little alley that opened into a few spaces, but we weren’t sure it was the right place so we went back out and found a place on the street. We were beyond ready to settle for the night. Past ready to start a much-needed overdue vacation. Ready to feel once again the healing properties of the ocean.

Despite our initial trepidation at the parking situation, once we entered the foyer of this captivating place, any misgivings we might have had were laid to rest. And when we met the charming innkeeper, who made us feel at home and instantly welcomed we both breathed an inward sigh of relief.

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She checked us in and with a charming Lebanese accent introduced herself as Nashua. Gazing around, already eager to run upstairs and let my camera out of its case, I felt like I had stepped into another era. It was part Victorian, part Bohemian with a splash of old west Bordello thrown in, but very tastefully so. We gratefully accepted our keys and stepped up wonderfully creaky stairs to a hallway that I imagined held hidden passageways and doors that led to secret rooms.

We abandoned the elevator after the first time because it was so slow, but to me that only added to the charm. Our room opened with a real key and once inside, we were greeted by Audrey Hepburn who seemed to approve and who could ever argue with her?

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“This is awesome,” I said, “Just like one of the places in my dreams!” I often dream of old buildings and long passageways and doors that lead to stairs and narrow alleyways. I instantly yielded to the adventure this was turning into.

The windows cranked out revealing a neighboring view you might see in an old Alfred Hitchcock movie. Amidst the late night traffic noise, we heard the unmistakable sigh of the sea and the barking of seals.

Vacation had truly begun.

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Join me tomorrow as I continue our adventure, won’t you?

For Life

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We admire the doves because they mate for life……..as do the albatross, the wolf, the puffin, the penguin, the beaver, the swan, as well as the symbol of our nation, the bald eagle. I have seen their nests, they are incredible……..as big as my volkswagen.

In many of these species, the Dad takes an active role in child rearing, egg hatching and food gathering. The Dads are needed as well as the Moms, as an intergral part of the perfect equation.
 
I look at my Mom and Dad, still together after 60 plus years. In them and so many of their generation, I see the beauty of staying together over the long haul. Most of the time they can still laugh at each other and themselves. They get mad at each other, sometimes really mad, yet through the years they have discovered the beauty of compromise, while somehow managing to keep the integrity of their individuality intact.
  
Now, I hear so many talk of divorce, even in front of the kids. Before they walk down the aisle it’s already a lurking threat, an unspoken presence in the relationship; a reality looming in the minds and hearts of both parties. If it doesn’t work I’ll just bail out.
If they don’t make me happy, I’m outta there.
If I see someone better, younger, fitter…….I’m gone.
Even if It’s not said out loud, it’s a reality just the same. But do we enter a race without first mentally and physically preparing to win?
 
Do we do the same with our careers? Our kids? Even our homes? We worked hard for that degree so we stick out the first year or two of being the low person on the totem pole; we stick with that tough adolescent and love them through to the other side, long enough that we don’t want to strangle them anymore; and we take care of our home in hopes of paying off the mortgage someday.
 
Don’t get me wrong. I am not trying to say that there is never an option for divorce. There is abuse, both physical and emotional…….and unfaithfulness, it happens. Or maybe you didn’t even want a divorce, for you it was forever, but it wasn’t for them. And now you are in a living nightmare you never asked for.
  
I don’t know much but I do know a few things about God. I know He’s just and He’s true. And I also know that He would never bless something and call it good without giving us the means to do it successfully for life.
Wisdom begins when we start to see things as God sees them and when we realize we have no hope of carrying if our successfully without His help. 
And when a society as a whole reduces the physical relationship that should be part of marriage between a woman and a man to nothing more than a physical act, perfectly permissible between anyone, at any time; something to laugh at, joke about, even brag about, that society begins to cave in from the inside out.
And the end result for the individual and for the society as a whole will be despair, emptiness, and a longing for something which can never be satisfied, only perpetuated until someone breaks the pattern.
If you are married today, consider it a gift. If you are single, consider that a gift as well. You can have the assurance of knowing that God will supply you with whatever you need to enjoy whatever state you are in.
 
Lastly and most importantly, we all live in the state of His grace. If you are suffering through a divorce, or a broken relationship, or the loss of a loved one; if you’re tired of being single, tired of being married, the way of help is always through Jesus. He always stands ready to give you a new start, a new season of hope.
 
There is always time for a second chance, a new start for each and every season.  

God’s Pop Quizzes

 

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There are times when we feel the Lord’s Presence very keenly, and there are those times when we just lean back on our trust because we know He’s there. Sometimes He likes to surprise us. I expect to feel the brush of the Holy Spirit when I am in prayer but I don’t always. And sometimes when I least expect Him, He’s there.

Sometimes He likes to give me a little pop quiz to see what my faith is made of.

There is something about the cloak of early morning blackness that makes God so much nearer. I had five minutes to spare this morning and I took it. Settling on the couch with my coffee, I sighed. “Oh, Lord, where would I be without You?” It was a one-liner prayer. Lately, I have been saying a lot of those.

Sometimes you just don’t want to use that many words so you let the silence say the rest. God knows.

He answered me immediately by filling up the space next to me. I remembered other mornings, other prayers. Prayers without which I never would have gotten up and out the door, said by dear ones all through my life. How have I been so rich? This one I will add to my collection to the others safely tucked away.

I love how God surprises with little times of refreshing. I certainly do nothing to deserve them, it’s always grace, only grace, simply grace…….It’s His unmerited favor that holds me close, that makes each day a gift worth unwrapping.

The Holy Spirit comes as comforter and draws us close to remind us that we are His children, and no matter what else we might feel is so pressing, so serious, so immediate.

It is this that matters most. That you took the time to rend me a little hole in clouds so that the Heavens could reach me. Just because it pleased You to do it.

Thank you, Precious Lord. Even though the CD that I wanted to listen to skipped on every song on my way to work it didn’t matter. Turns out I didn’t need it anyway. I coasted to work on clouds of Your great grace and unending mercy.  

Your steadfast love, O Lord, is as great as all the heavens. Your faithfulness reaches beyond the clouds. Your justice is as solid as God’s mountains. Your decisions are as full of wisdom as the oceans are with water. You are concernedfor men and animals alike. How precious is your constant love, O God! All humanity takes refuge in the shadow of your wings. You feed them with blessings from your own table and let them drink from your rivers of delight. Psalm 36:5-8

The things we do to ourselves

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It’s something I’ve been saying for a while. “We were not meant for this kind of stress.” By “this kind,” I mean the stress involved in simply doing what we have to do everyday. Our original existence in the garden was a far cry from getting on the freeway each day where as my Dad says, “Everyone thinks they’re a Nascar driver.” I would have to agree.

I work in a closed in space without windows for 12 hour shifts. There are about 50 or 60 of us packed in there, all sharing workstations. All talking at once, all coughing at once. We work in tight deadlines involving very expensive product which will result in computer chips; now a part of our every day existence. For my livelihood that is a good thing. For our stress level not so good.

As I said, tight deadlines, minute to minute. The other day I working with someone for 3 hours trying to give a reasonable explanation to the Captain of the Ship, yes that is what his title is,  why we were 27 minutes late. 30 minutes and they want a detailed report which is documented with your name on it for all to see. Nobody wants that. With both of us researching, we came up with a reason why which satisfied him and excused the need for the report.

Needless to say, by the time our week is over we are happy just to sit on a bench and stare up at the sky for a while. I think I can speak for us all.

We all have different stresses. No one in this life is exempt. Even if I had a goat farm on a green hilly acre like I sometimes fantasize about, the cheese wouldn’t make itself. And the goats would sometimes get sick and then I would have to give them shots.

We all long for simplicity because deep inside, we know it’s our normal, natural state. It’s what God meant for us in the beginning.

After the long week, we all walked out to the parking lot and took a singular deep breath as if it were synchronized. It had been raining and the earth felt new again. We all had hope of a revitalizing weekend ahead. It was needed.

I have two more days off and I am doing what I can to slow down. I am slowing down with Jesus words in the mornings, and simple chores during the day. I was greedy and got all three books at the library yesterday. That’s my slowing down place. Surrounded by books has always made me feel at peace, what makes you feel peaceful?

Find it, do it. Even if it’s only for a few moments. And do it as if your life, and health and sanity depend on it, because it usually does.