Just today…..

“In the days before his death,his Aunt Louisa asked him if he had made his peace with God.
His answer was “I did not know we had ever quarrelled, Aunt.” Attributed to Henry David Thoreau
The LORD your God in your midst,
The Mighty One, will save;
He will rejoice over you with gladness,
He will quiet you with His love,
He will rejoice over you with singing.”
Thank you God for placing me here in this world you have created. I could have been born anywhere or not at all, and I thank you that I was. Each day holds a glimpse of Your Heaven. Help me not fail to notice the small moments of wonder happening all around me. Too many days have passed when I haven’t.
Consider just one bird….the cactus wren, so busy, so industrious is this couple that they build not one nest, but two….one as a backup, or maybe a decoy to fool predators?
And when I consider the full moon hanging there just so, its own presence daring us not to believe. I wonder how anyone can deny that kind of majesty and say that it was not created…..
that….. it….. just….. happened
We are all born with a spark of Grace…..made for eternity.
No matter how bad I think things are, there is always so much to thank you for. Sometimes it helps to do just that.
So today, I pause.

Because God is Real

photo of clouds behind my house

People may ask, what does it matter what you do? What you watch? What you listen to? Does anyone really care? In this age of anything goes, does it matter anymore? It matters greatly because we greatly matter to God! It matters more than ever.

Not only is God alive to us, He wants to be involved in everything we do. He has a personal investment in us! It is the difference between feeling like a latchkey kid, always having to let yourself in the door at night, and being a kid whose parents want to know where you are and who you are hanging with. Not because they are busybodies, or nosy, or want to rule your life….but because they care and want the best for you.

Not only that, but He comes alongside and helps me back up when I fail miserably. He understands that I will, but because He looks on my heart, He knows my motive. He can see if love is what drives me or something else.

This morning I was tossing and turning……It was three o’ clock and I had to get up at four. I rolled over after looking at the clock, and was glad I had another hour. But I couldn’t go back to sleep. I tried the 23rd Psalm, that usually works to lull me back to slumber. But this morning I got stuck on lines. The first one actually…..

“The Lord is my Shepherd……the Lord is my Shepherd…….the Lord is my Shepherd”…..Thoughts crash in like ocean waves……I wonder how much time I left with my parents, Dad is turning 83 this week…..what will I do if I get a phone call saying they are gone and I didn’t get to say goodbye…..What is our President doing with our money? Will we have anything left to call our own after he gets done playing monopoly with it? Maybe I should sell everything and move into the RV and put my money in a coffee can.

I shall not want, I shall not want, I shall not want…….He maketh me to lie down in green pastures.

He leadeth me beside still waters…..

In Him, I have everything I need, and yet I toss and turn some more. I never go back to sleep. 3:10…..3:20…..3:50……

This morning, my first cup of coffee having cleared my head, I was thinking about Psalm 23 again. This image stayed with me. I pictured My Shepherd, His body laying down across the sheep gate in the night, the sheep gate of my life, my heart…… protecting the sheep (me) from preditors in the night…..

thoughts that go astray…….worries that won’t sleep.

He says: “Don’t worry, I got you covered.”

Picture credit of sheep: Google images

The Final Frontier

One sings in her wheelchair as she is pushed along the halls, mostly Que Sara, Que Sara, sometimes Amazing Grace. She has an amazingly strong voice. We try to meet all their faces as we pass, and say hello and smile. You have the sense of wanting to give them back their humanity in this land of the seemingly lonely and forgotten.
When I first started to do the nursing home thing again, I recoiled. It felt like the Land of the Lost. My friend calls it the Roach Motel. You check in but you don’t check out.
Where my Uncle is staying there is a gentleman there who insists that he will get to Heaven by train. When my Aunt sees him, he makes the announcement, “I have my ticket, I am leaving today at three o’clock.” Hey I kind of like that idea, like going to Heaven on the Hogwart’s Express! One lady, mutters constantly….”I don’t know what the hell I am doing in this place.” Once she never stepped out of her house looking anything less than dressed to the nines with hair perfectly styled. Now my Aunt says she looks like a street person. Unrecognizable as the woman she once was.
They give these places fancy sounding names like “Rehabilitation Center” “Care Centers” “Guest Homes.”
I have to say, now that I have been “doing the circuit” again, there is something else that is clear to me. It is not all hopeless. I walk past rooms that are decorated in pictures from home, their pets, Scripture verses, shelves of books, colorful quilts in bright colors.
All in all, I have made up my mind that you die the way you lived.
If you are positive when you were young, you will be positive all the way to the end. Unless you don’t have your mind, that is. Then it’s different.
I walk along the halls and see signs of life and hope, and see signs up giving up.
It all comes down to life and death in the end.
I am determined that I will choose life no matter what. That is the hope I have in Jesus. That is the hope that Henry has. Elaine met him walking the halls. They got to talking and he told her he comes from a long line of ministers. He told her with a sparkle in his eye, “Today I am reading the book of Numbers!”
If I ever end up in one of these places I want to be like Henry.
Or the guy waiting for my three o clock train to Heaven.
And honestly, sometimes it doesn’t sound too bad. No responsibilies, a shelf full of books, three square meals….I just really hope that I can keep my eyesight and my mind.
“And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow–not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love.” Romans 8:38

Even while we sleep……

Though you probe my heart and examine me at night, though you test me, you will find nothing; I have resolved that my mouth will not sin…….my steps have held to your paths; my feet have not slipped….Psalm 16:3,5

I was tossing and turning over a situation. It was a fitful night, but this morning I awoke to the sound of rain….welcome rain on the rooftop. I heard the gentle patter of it off and on while it was still dark, and though my sleep was not totally restful I was somehow always lulled back to sleep.
I needed the comfort of the Psalms this morning and so I opened my Bible to my old friends that never fail to give me the peace I need in every situation.

Imagine, even while we are sleeping, God is working for us……..”I will praise the Lord, who counsels me; even at night my heart instructs me. I have set the Lord always before me. Because He is at my right hand, I will not be shaken.” Psalm 16:7,8

I am praising and thanking the Lord today, for Godly counsel. For the wisdom I find in His word and for those He has lovingly placed in my life who say just the right thing at the right time.

holy experience  I am giving thanks for my Mom today, who said just the right thing this morning when I needed it. What a solid rock you are! I can always find the right perspective when I talk to you. I thank God for you.

God sees behind our windows

With all your science – can you tell how it is, and whence it is, that light comes into the soul? ~Henry David Thoreau

Sometimes I like to imagine the life behind the window……who it is that lives there, what it is they do. I imagine all kinds of scenes. I see someone rising early before the world awakes, moving soundlessly on stockinged feet to start the coffee or tea. Arising to enjoy some solace, maybe praying, maybe writing in a journal and sitting behind this window watching passersby like me walk by.

Or maybe they are old and alone, hoping for a knock on the door. A visitor to swap stories with.

Maybe they wonder about me, the walker…….

God knows all of our stories, everything behind our windows.

He wants to open the window of your soul and let some light in. He wants to open the windows of Heaven and fill your heart to overflowing.

Jesus is that visitor who wants to come in and hear your story. He is knocking, oh so softly.

If you open the door, I promise you will never be the same……

“Look! I stand at the door and knock. If you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in, and we will share a meal together as friends.” Revelation 3:20

When we all get to Heaven

If I could write a book, that would be the title. It’s one of the songs that my family used to sing when we got together. We used to call them “sings.” I guess you could call them jam sessions to use a more modern term. My Uncle played the sax but not very well. Uncle Bill played the banjo very well, having been self taught. One of Mom’s sisters Aunt Mayvis or Esther would be on piano or organ, and  singing Alto, and my Dad would play what we used to call the “gut bucket,” also known as the “washtub bass.” (As barefoot Larry illustrates above) He played his alternating two notes right on time. My Mom would do lead soprano and Aunt Lois and all of us kids would round out vocals, when we weren’t holding our ears in mock horror.

Those choruses roll over in my mind and I love hearing them. They are part of the fabric of my being. Uncle Bill and Aunt Esther have been gone several years now. Aunt Mayvis is sorting through my Uncle’s things now, since he won’t be coming home again. Aunt Lois has been alone for years now, and my cousin was home last weekend helping her out at the house. My Mom and Dad, thankfully are going strong.

But we are all getting closer and closer to “that time.” Even me. It gives me pause.

It also gives me strength to honor all their memories by taking care of myself…..living well….and keeping their stories alive.

I want my niece to know what kind of people she comes from, how strong they were and how proud I am of them all. For their stories are all of our stories. Their lives were marked with sacrifice and hardship and they never gave up. They were thinking of the future, theirs and ours.  

So every now and again I resurrect the stories here…..to honor them.

I find myself wishing I could have been there when my Aunt and Uncle and two friends all got perms when they came to California in the late 1930’s in their old Ford piled with everything they could put on top. The relatives thoughtfully had a place ready for them to live……in the chicken coop. But they didn’t know that then.

Or seen my Grandmother and Grandfather rescue the baby chicks that didn’t drown in the rainstorm, bringing them in by the wood stove to dry.

I think I can almost see them looking back as they left their farm behind in North Dakota to move to California…. I know they shed many tears for the little girl they left behind, her small 2 year old body marked with a lamb on the stone……and all their animal friends, each one of whom were named. They were their working partners through several harsh winters.

And I wish I could have seen my Mom win my Dad back after they had a fight in high school, she in her black dress and gold lame shoes, singing a love song on stage at the school talent show. She and my Dad reconciled that night.

I remember them all today. Their lives encourage me to take care of myself and do my best to make them proud, and to cherish every year God gives me, and to never ever give up.

Always keeping their stories living, breathing, with me.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Hebrews 12:1

The Dinner Dance

Dinner has become very interesting at our house. The full execution of it from preparation to cleanup resembles something like a military operation, or an episode of Amazing Race. When her Mom moved in, we knew there would be some major adjustments, and dinner is one of those that has changed. We are still trying to learn the rules. This stems partially from the Alzheimer’s and partly from the fact that her approach to dinner and mealtimes in general, drastically differs from ours.

Ours is relaxation, appreciation of the food, fellowship and conversation.

Hers is put it on the table so we can get it over and go back to watching TV.

From what I understand, cooking food was always a chore for her. She always hated it. It was never a labor of love. They called her cooking burnt offerings. Mealtime was something to get through, in survival mode….and the table was a form of controlled chaos.

Some days it almost seems like we are settling into some kind of rhythm, then the next day everything is crazy again and the rules change.

Dinner has become like a strategic operation. Kind of like a race against time. You do what you can on the sly so that you can get to it before she does. I know, I know, it doesn’t sound very kind, but believe me. It is necessary. Otherwise it would never happen at all.

If you start too early, she comes and stands in the middle of the kitchen and watches every move you make, not saying a word……just staring, glaring really. So you want to minimize the amount of time that happens. Other times, she watches over your shoulder asking, “What’s that?” and “What are you doing now?” You have to dance around her.

Sometimes she will take a seat where she can watch, stony faced and silent. It is unnerving. You start to do everything faster so you can get it done and get out. If you’ve ever watched an episode of “Keeping Up Appearances” and know what happens when neighbor Elizabeth comes for coffee at Hyacinth’s, you will know just about how it looks in the kitchen right before dinner goes on the table. It’s worth a look up on You Tube.

And she will not……. absolutely not sit down until everyone else is seated.

She treats everything on her plate with a certain amount of disdain and suspicion. That part is just personality, nothing to do with the disease. She does the same thing in restaurants, it’s as if she is just daring the food to be edible.

You cringe inwardly, waiting for the comment, “There is a taste in here that I don’t care for…..” or “I’m still trying to decide if I like it,” when it is something a bit different than meat and potatoes. Sometimes, but only if we ask first mind you, there will be an affirmative response to “How do you like it, Mom?” But that is risky territory. Mostly we cook what we know is safe.

The TV stays on to cover the loud sniffing while dining.

Clean up resembles a Chinese fire-drill. By the time it is done we are all mentally exhausted.

I remember all the times I prayed for God to make me more loving, to turn my heart of stone into a heart of flesh…….I so want to respond the way Jesus would. To have the patience to let her help. We give her tasks so that she can feel useful and feel like she has a place of welcome in our home, her home too now……but it’s very hard sometimes.

There is a part of me that is stubborn enough to make this work without any of us going crazy, and for that I am grateful.

“Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling. Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.” 1 Peter 4:9,10

Finding beauty when and where you can

There are times when you simply no longer recognize your life……….It happens slowly sometimes, gradually. You look up and find yourself surrounded and in the mire, you feel stuck. You wonder what happened.
Other times it happens with life events, all of a sudden. Leaving no time to prepare, “to lock and load” against the barrage coming at you.
Right now it seems that everywhere I look…….in the lives of those I hold dear, major adjustments are having to be made. My Aunt is packing up some of my Uncle’s things since he has had to go to the nursing home. She is living in a strange land now. The land of dementia……She told me, “He is here, but he’s not here. I am grieving him and he is still alive.” Tears come easily for her. She is packing his shop, and I am sure all the memories along with it.
She struggles with false guilt. She thinks that because she is a Christian she should be handling it better. But what prepares you for this?
Still she has held onto her humor, her eyes still find the beauty in her life.
She still thanks God for all the time she had with him. She has hope in her Savior.
The joy of the Spirit has not left her.
Because of who she is, she still sees the beauty in each new day. She still has her marvelous sense of humor. She called my Mom and asked on a particularly hot day….”Do you want to lay out?” She and my Mom used to sunbathe until they were black….baking for hours. Now they each have standing appointments at the dermatologist as a result…….Laying out in the sun at 80 years of age is now laughable…
And laugh they did.
One friend has a wayward adult child living at home once again……he has suffered many setbacks and can’t seem to get back on track. He has made bad choices, and now this Mom and Dad are being dragged along for the ride. They love him so much it hurts.
There is one thing, one BIG common denominator in all these people’s lives……..they know Jesus. I refute those studies that say there is no marked difference in the lives of believers and unbelievers, the things they do or don’t do. Frankly, they can stick those studies where the sun don’t shine. They really make me mad, can you tell? I know better. I have seen it with my own eyes.
In my best friend, my own parents, my Aunt, my dear friend and her husband, and many others.
Since I started in a caretaking role myself, there are so many things I understand now, better than I did before. And I am thankful for that. God saw fit to “learn me a lesson.” He does that mostly through other people. My life has changed very much over that past year or so. I am still adjusting.
I hope I can grow to be like the heroes I see around me. Still finding the beauty and not losing my sense of humor. I feel that many times lately I have missed the mark. I have become kind of a grumbler…..but inside where no one can see. But God sees my heart, and He knows I don’t want to be a grumbler inside or outside.
Sometimes just finding that quiet place for a few moments is difficult, but necessary. To regroup.
How does your faith help you in your everyday life? Does it make things easier? I welcome any and all thoughts….
All photos taken by me at the Disney Grand Hotel

Buggy thoughts……

I saw it as I wiped the cleaning rag over my bathroom counter. It was so small I almost thought it was a microscopic particle of dirt or something else, until it moved. Something made me look closer. It was so very, very small. How very large my counter top must look, as big as a whole world! I wondered how it even knew where it was going, for it certainly seemed to have a destination. There was something about the way it was just there. Any other day I may have just scrunched it up in a towel, because, after all…..it was so very small.

It moved me, watching that little bug. I could have smashed it without a second thought….sent it to a watery grave, and yet it didn’t know that. That’s what got to me, I guess. How many people are walking around just like that little bug, clueless that the God who created them has the power to stop their breath in an instant. And His great mercy keeps them going, because He loves them so much.

Loves all of us so much.

It humbled me, thinking of that little bug. So unaware of my bigness and its smallness….So unaware of what I could do. What I might have done another day. I think it was that thought alone that made me take it outside to a safe place. It was just too small to survive indoors. This morning, something in me needed to save it. At first it balked at my efforts to help it, it didn’t know what I wanted to do. I coaxed it onto a tissue and carried it outside and set it tenderly at the base of a shady plant.

Safe for one more day.

Remembering my gratitude

Psalm 26:7 “That I may proclaim with the voice of thanksgiving,and tell of all Your wondrous works.”

I momentarily lost my gratitude this morning, I awoke under a cloud. The heat is oppressive, and it has only just begun. But my desire to be thankful drove me outside……I needed to feel the air, however stifling. To be outdoors, to know that life was still good, very good. In fact, to feel a certain way is so much a choice. I chose again and will choose again and again……Gratitude.
I walked along and like a whispered breeze it flew through my soul as if through an open window……I thought of vacation just passed. The walk we took along the beach, peering through little alleyways. Feeling the ocean rush over my toes……It already seems so far away. Reality rushes in so fast. But I remember moments frozen in time. Held close.

It worked……my fog lifted once again. A bit of the gloom melted off and I could see the sun peeking out once more.

This freedom we celebrate today is born of many people making a stand……sacrificing so that we could, as a country, as a people be unoppressed by others. Freedom is an incredible luxury that must never be taken for granted. Sometimes I still do though……

I forget what Christ did for me……..what He set me free from. So today, I remember the many ways I can celebrate and be thankful for freedom.
#711-721
Time spent away…..relief from the heat of an Arizona summer for a little while….to enjoy open windows for a few days…..I am thankful for the freedom to feel, think and be a certain way, knowing that others have severe limitations on their choices……Freedom of the road, the joy of the journey…..Time together with friends and family, making memories……Thankful for a special person who took care of everything while we were gone…….Thankful always, for God who bestows so many undeserved blessings, even when I grumble and complain when I shouldn’t.

 Behold what manner of love the Father has bestowed on us, that we should be called children of God…..1 John 1:3

holy experience
Happy Fourth of July everyone! We are free indeed………