A lily... Diva style! (Luke 12:27-32)

Umm... I'm back. 

Turns out that my verbal-processing-open-journal actually DOES keep me better connected to the folks I love. Because, despite having recently adopted a 45 minute commute, I'm still hard to catch on the phone. And I'm not the only one who's lousy at e-mail. But I simply cannot boil everything down to a facebook update. So, if you like random thoughts and updates from me; if you don't mind the occasional ramble, bookmark me. Check back...maybe weekly? That's my goal anyway. Weekly. We shall see.

It's been a busy summer. 

In early July, I moved out of my home in VA and onto my sister's couch in NC. 

Shortly after that, I had a fantastic trip back to Tacoma. I got to enjoy 80 degree summer in the Puget Sound, spoil a cuddly canine, and spend a ton of quality time with some of the most wonderful people I'll ever meet.

 My trip was restorative and restful. It also affirmed my decision to leave the lovely Pacific Northwest, at least for a while. The reasons I left - sunshine, family, and faith - are still strong pulls. Plus, I'm still adventuring. 

And learning. 

Since school started, I have learned even more about how different education is across the country. As 40+ states adopt the Common Core State Standards for curriculum, and adopt rubrics which tie teacher evaluations to student performance, outcomes are theoretically being leveleld. Yet I see no move to address the input. The disparities in resources - physical, technological, and human - in the three states where I hold a certificate are significant. These kids, their schools, and the districts/states aren't bringing the same things to the table. NC teachers get paid 2/3 as much as teachers in University Place, and yet they have more responsibilities in the classroom. One of the biggest districts in NC has a very restrictive limit on the number of copies teachers can make, because they can't afford paper and toner. At some point we, as a nation, need to have this conversation, too. But teacher stuff will mainly go on my other blog "only the lessons." Look for it there, a couple times a month. 

For now, let me just say that I'm loving my work environment. I have a welcoming and supportive team. The boss communicates regularly. The kids are fun to work with. The challenges are interesting. And, since it's a converted old high school  the campus (and the classroom) is huge. So I'm getting a lot of walking in.

Which is good. 

Because in July the doctor told me that I have pretty bad arthritis in my ankle. Likely predating the broken leg, but certainly aggravated by it. Now that I'm settled in my new district, I'm going to get it evaluated by a local doctor and learn what that means for me, long-term. (Feel free to pray for my medical care).  At first I felt rather...limited by this new development. The doc took away tennis and running (two hobbies I actually wanted to pick up). Although he did replace them with kayaking and walking (I already love walking, and kayaking... a water sport? twist my arm!), it still certainly complicated moving this summer. And vacation. And back-to-school. But then two things happened.

1) As I started walking my campus, regularly, and loosening up, the "predating" finally really sunk in. Meaning this really is the same condition I dealt with in my young adulthood. I dealt with it. Successfully. So I know I can deal with it. (And, for the record, I haven't used the "gimp stick" in at least 2 weeks).

2) I remembered how I dealt with it. I remembered that my God is bigger than the boogey man.  Or the arthritis fairy. I have been blessed in so many ways. And part of this journey was learning to trust God with everything. Everything, I guess, includes my ankles. Funny that. Head-shoulders-knees-and-toes?!

I'm not planning to let some deteriorated cartilage slow me down. In fact, I've some pretty ambitious health-and-fitness goals for the 2013/2014 school year. I'm excited and motivated. Not to mention stubborn. 

Oh, and broke, thanks to the NC pay schedule. But it doesn't cost (much) to walk. So I can learn to live super-frugally, and still have fun in the process. Win!

And you know what? God's got plans for me. It's been a while since I've been so excited to see what they might be. 

I know that for tomorrow, at least, they include spending a sunny morning hanging out with my niece, watching my nephew play PopWarner football, while my sister does her team-mom duties. That's a pretty good place to start.

"I'm a lily." - You Can't Take It With You (1938)

One of my all time favorite chunks of scripture begins with a reminder of the lilies and how lovely they are. It ends with the encouragement that God loves to bless us when we trust Him. It's a little long to type the whole thing here, but you can check out Luke 12:27-32 by clicking on this link. 

I hope you have an amazing week! 

A Prayer, and an Answer (Gen 2:18)

I clearly remember a spring day in my young adulthood, when I was standing at the clothesline behind my lovely brick apartment home, hanging out my laundry and praying God would send me just one good Christian friend. Most of my faith journey, to that point, had been just me and God. I read my Bible daily. I went to church regularly. I had a healthy prayer life. But I had no Christian friends. There was not one believer in my life with whom I felt close enough to pray, study, learn or celebrate. There was, at that time, no one close to me who didn't think I was at least a little bit crazy for putting so much hope and trust in ancient "legends."

Now, I am blessed to be positively surrounded by people of faith. Some of my old friends have become true brothers and sisters in Christ. I've met many more on the journey. I'm blessed by their encouragement and I rely on their prayers. Our conversations are richly seasoned with things not of this world. I'm pretty sure they don't think I'm crazy (or at least not ALL crazy).

Women of faith...together...the first Easter
discovering the empty tomb.

Since most of my readers are also these friends, it would be silly (and somewhat insulting) for me to try to write here about the incredible-ness of Easter. We rejoice today, together. Our joy has been more eloquently expressed in a hundreds of songs. The lessons of faith and redemption taught in dozens of sermons. My awe has been captured by authors far more talented than I, and shared in hundreds of books.

This morning, when I rose to get ready for church, I was overwhelmed with thankfulness for the community of believers who have become such an important part of my life. Easter - the resurrection of our Lord and Savior -  is the most important thing we have in common. In some cases the only thing. That's okay. It is more than enough.

I still pray for those in my life who do not know the Lord. How dark must this world seem without the hope of Easter, of life, of renewal, of a Kingdom beyond this world. These dear ones do not understand why we celebrate today with more than bunnies, eggs, and jelly-beans. So I pray that God will open their eyes, that Jesus will speak to their hearts, that the Spirit of truth will draw them near.

I pray, and I celebrate.
Because I know that prayers are answered. You, my friends, are proof of that.
Will you share your own story of answered prayer?

The Lord God said, "It is not good for man to be alone." - Genesis 2:18

Memory Lane (Prov. 3:3)

When was the last time you wandered down memory lane?
Who did you take with you? What did you talk about?

I got to wander down memory lane with a rarely-seen aunt this weekend. It was interesting, to hear my own memories retold from her perspective. 

I realized, in the sharing, the importance of one's point of view when it comes to personal history. Generally, when I'm wandering through the past, it's with a new friend, a beau, a stranger - someone I have to "fill in" on the events that made me, well, me.  I can't remember the last time I had a chat with someone (other than my darling sister) who was really there. Someone who might remember things a little differently. After all, even undisputed facts can have different facets - like a gemstone in the sun.

For example... I took 5 years off between earning my AA at a community college and finishing my BA at university. In that time I moved to a different state, and saved enough to avoid student loans for a while. While I was, certainly, enjoying the freedom of my early 20's, I always knew I'd go back to college sooner rather than later. I had decided to be a teacher before I was even in high school. She didn't realize any of that. She thought I had dropped out, and then reconsidered and discovered an interest in education. She praised me for getting my life back on track; for becoming responsible. I think she was genuinely surprised when I sorted it out for her. I'm not sure what she thinks of my story now that she realizes I've always been old and dull. It's interesting to consider, though.

Now, I'm becoming fascinated with my own history, and the idea of hearing how the other people in my life would describe the events that shaped our relationships. I love stories. I can't wait to hear the ones my family have to share with me.

I was reading about the Israelite's journey to Jericho recently. So many times Moses warned them to remember their past. To talk to the children. To make monuments, leave reminders, honor traditions, lest God's people forget where they came from. I don't know about your world, but mine is very disconnected from that kind of thinking.

I don't know my history - at least not any farther back than I can remember. But I want to learn. So I'll invite my family to wander down memory lane with me, while there's still time. 

Never let go of loyalty and faithfulness. Tie them around your neck; write them on your heart. -Proverbs 3:3

by their love...

In honor of Valentine's Day, let me ask you a personal question.
How do you show love to your friends? (Not your spouse... I'll leave that for married bloggers to handle)!

Do you buy flowers? Candy?
Do you make cards? Or spend way too much time in the card aisle trying to find just the right words?
Do you plan a special time to spend together?
Do you hug?
Do you do "a little something extra" - like wash her car or cook his favorite meal?

Now... let me ask another.
What do you like best to receive from those who love you?
Be honest. Don't say "anything." What is it that really, really makes you grin? You know... that face-splitting, she's-spoiled-and-we-all-know-it smile you just can't dim?

Is it the same?

See... being on the slow road has given me a great chance to think about the ways people show love to their friends and neighbors. Giving love takes effort (the married people are backing me up on this right now)... even when it's "just" to your friends.

I've been incredibly blessed by people who've given of their time to help me. I know that giving time is an act of love. I couldn't "do" this, if it weren't for that generosity - the rides to and from work, to and from church... that's what I need most right now. So I'm thankful for the folks who are giving it.

Two other beautiful souls I know are recovering from major medical procedures. They can't DO anything they are used to doing. No work. No favorite hobbies. They have both been blessed beyond measure by the time their spouses, children, and grandchildren spend fussing over them.

But love doesn't come with a one-size-fits-all tag. Time isn't always the answer.

A recent divorcee I know burst into tears when someone hugged her at church. She hadn't been hugged since before her husband left... months ago. A simple touch was what she needed most, to feel like someone really cared about her.

I know another woman who, faced with a life-changing illness, found herself surrounded by plenty of  folks willing to help. However, she has savings & family, so she didn't really need help. What her family couldn't manage, they paid to have done. Unfortunately, when she didn't have anything for her friends to do, they drifted away, leaving her to fight the demons of despair and discouragement alone. All she really wants is for someone to tell her she still matters. Words of hope. Words of love.

And, if I'm being completely honest, I may need the gift of time, but it's not what makes me want to shout from the mountaintops. My favorite gift is service. I felt SUPER blessed those first few weeks, when my family reached out in so many different ways to smooth my path. Even before I was hurt, I loved it when a friend surprised me by washing my car while I was at work. Or helping me decorate my classroom.


So... this Valentine's Day, stop and chat with your neighbor. Let her know she matters.  Invite someone you haven't seen for a while out for a cup of coffee or a walk in the park. Give a friend a hug. Give a stranger a hug. Give your mother a hug. Offer to help someone with their chores, vacuum their car, or shovel their snowy driveway. Volunteer for a day of service in the community.

Step out of your comfort zone, and try a new way of showing you care. I bet it will make your day brighter.

Jesus said we needed to love our neighbors as ourselves. One of my favorite old Christian song declares "they will know we are Christians by our love" (click here to hear the Jars of Clay version).  Let's make that true.

If you haven't read it, I recommend Gary Chapman's 5 Love Languages. If you have, you probably recognized the ideas I shared here. I read the book years ago, when it was trending around book-clubs and small groups. Any content here that is too close for comfort must be really really good, because it's what stuck in my head. 

road to recovery (Matt. 25:34-40)

It's been 4 weeks today since I fell and broke my foot.

A very long 4 weeks, and this adventure is still in the beginning stages.Doc said it's two more weeks -at least- before I can start putting any weight on it. There was some talk of maybe being able to drive by the end of April. There's a lot of days and weeks between now and then. Thankfully, I'm getting pretty good at taking this journey one day at a time.

So, I'm pleased to report I'm on the road to recovery. And I've discovered there are some truly beautiful souls on this road.

Today, for instance, a teacher I barely know gave up 3 hours of her off-time on a snow day to run a very important errand for me. She's recovering from a nasty cold. Her husband, whom I've never met, joined her. Beautiful souls.

Since it is a snow day, I've had time to think. I thought I ought to update this blog (it's been 10 days, and my goal was weekly).

I've never seen my freezer
quite so full!

I've been thinking and thinking and thinking all day about how to express my gratitude to the wonderful people in my life, and I just can't find an answer. I don't have the words. How do I recognize the sacrifices of the servant-hearts that set aside their own needs for a time to help make my life easier? How can I show my gratitude to the partners who took on extra work and responsibilities to free up someone to help me? How can I ever explain how much it means to me not to face this little speedbump alone? How do I show my appreciation for the helping hands that cleaned and organized my house, filling it with good food and good cheer? How do I acknowledge the patience of the wonderful, beautiful children who joyfully did their parts to lighten my load?  How do I explain the way the cards, flowers, gifts, e-mails, and phone calls help beat back the frustration and discouragement?

My dad & mom. My sister & brother-in-law. My niece & nephew. My sister's mother-in-law. A couple of aunts. An uncle & a cousin. My grandmother. My students. My co-teachers. My principal. The pastor & his wife. My wonderful family. My dear, dear friends. So many people. So many blessings. So much to be thankful for!

I can't begin to express the depths of my gratitude. So I'm going to stop trying. I'll just say one more "THANK YOU." And then I'll share this passage of scripture that's really been on my mind the last couple days. It's longer than usual, but definitely appropriate.

^{Matthew 25: 34 -40} 

³⁴ “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. ³⁵ For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, ³⁶ I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

³⁷ “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? ³⁸ When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? ³⁹ When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

⁴⁰ “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

Thank you. Thank YOU.  Thank you. 

I am thankful for you!

Happy Birthday ...to me! (Prov. 16:9)

Last week I posted about my broken foot and how it was testing my faith.
This week, God took events that looked like problems, and turned them into blessings. Reassurances, that even in the little things, He's still there. Which is exactly what I needed.


Problem #1 - flight delay.
With my broken leg, I'm needing a lot of help. Now the baton gets passed from my fantastically patient sister to the next helper in line. The schedule: Afternoon arrival. Dinner out together to celebrate - and to get me out of the house. A little time to get familiar with the apartment and routines before bed.

Or...not! Early morning check-in revealed a flight delay.


So, plans change.

Lunch out, instead of dinner. We decided to try some local sushi. It was tasty. Even better, we had great service. We even got a free piece of "you live in the south now" fried cheesecake! Better still, we enjoyed it all with lots of laughs.

Which put us in the right frame of mind to handle problem #2 - forgotten keys.

See, it's my home, but we left in my sister's car. You can see how that might lead to a problem, can't you?Yup! A couple errands after lunch, we realized we didn't have the keys. We had to kill a few hours until a solution (in the form of my landlord) would be available.



So we decided to cash in a "reward." Which led to a haircut and style. The first truly normal thing I've done since I hurt myself.

When I got home, I even found flowers at the door! Flowers. ;-)

I feel like a princess.
Which is especially fantastic since it was my birthday!

Of course, it wouldn't have happened if everything had gone according to MY plan.
So... like my devotional this morning suggested, I'm going to stop looking at the storm. The storm will pass. I'm going to look to the light.






In his heart, a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.  -Proverbs 16:9

Looking backward, while moving forward (Ro 8:28)

I know that's a long little title. It's perfect for this post in so many ways, though.

This is my first post of the New Year. What do we do as we start the new year? Look back at last year's failures and plan for success moving forward, right?  This isn't going to be a post about resolutions, though. I didn't make any. Except maybe to be less stubborn. Be kinder to others. Share more of myself.

The title is also perfect, because it is the answer to the question I'm hearing the most these days... "what happened?" You see, I broke my leg over Christmas break because I was doing exactly that - looking backward to say "goodbye" to someone, while moving forward out their door. Um, there was a step there. Ouch.

I'm sure there's an allegory there. I'll leave you to work it out.

It's a nasty break. My right leg. The docs and nurses were all impressed with how well I broke it. One doc said 3-6 months of healing, BEFORE rehab and PT. 6 months of not driving. At least. Right now I'm not allowed to put any weight on it at all. Suddenly I own a shower chair. Toilet rails. A walker. All because I was looking backward while moving forward. Yes, folks, walking and talking at the same time requires a certain level of skill!

However, the real reason I chose that title, is because it describes the strategy I'm using to keep my sanity as I heal. Looking backward... while moving forward.

You may remember, how in April, I decided to move away from the community I had lived in for a dozen years. In August, with God's blessing, I landed across the country in a new neighborhood.

With God's blessing.


As I struggle to move forward with the day-to-day challenges of being broken, I keep reviewing all the steps that brought me here, to this place, at this time.

I'm still confident that God blessed my move.

I also believe that nothing happens to God's people that is outside of his control. So He allowed this accident to happen this year. Last year, I made the same trip. Walked out the same door. Last year I would have been going home to that community of care. This year, I'm on my own, and my family has had to get creative to help me out. My parents. My sister. My Aunt. Help coming in from 3 different states, and none of them the one in which I live! Last year I had tons of sick leave. This year, there was barely enough to cover the immediate crisis. Last year, I would have felt - just a little - more in control.

Ha!

So I've got to believe there was a reason, or many reasons, why this accident happened this year.

So I'm looking backward. At my journal and notes and blog from last year, as I set aside the old life and took up the new. I'm remembering that the reasons I moved were to draw closer to family, and to learn to trust God-the-provider to meet my needs.

Ha, ha!

So I'm praying. And learning. And healing. And growing. And looking backward... while moving forward.

...and we know that in all things, God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. - Romans 8:28

Home, revisited. (Josh 1:9)

I know I'm overdue to post.
I was on a roll, there, writing every week - even if some of the topics were truly insignificant.
Like my last one, about what it means to go "home" for the holidays.
Then the holidays came. And I broke my leg.


That's right. 3 days after Christmas, while spreading holiday cheer with my dad, I fell out a door and broke my leg. To be more specific, my right leg. The one I need in order to drive.
To quote the folks who worked on me - I did a "good job." Everyone who had access to my x-rays or case notes was impressed with how well I broke it.

I was impressed with the care I recieved.
The ambulance drivers were friendly, composed, and calm - if not entirely coordinated. The ER nurses were helpful and reassuring. The surgeon explained things clearly, listened to my concerns, and accepted my input, respectfully. The anesthesiologist even joked with me. This might seem like no-big-deal to you, or that's-how-it-should-be, but I've seen a lot of ER's over the years (though this was my first time *on* the bed since grade-school), and I know that's not always the case. So, my compliments to the crisis team.

I was on vacation when it happened. 550+ miles from home. Visiting my parents for Christmas.
I am so thankful I was. They were amazing. My dad held my leg while we waited for the ambulance. My mom bought me dresses while I was in the hospital, since all I'd packed were pants. My brother & his fiancee brought the baby to give me hugs - even on the coldest night of the year.

Once I got out of the hospital, my dad - who is generally stuck home due to his own health concerns - was the best nurse ever! He waited on me constantly for a week. Spoiled me totally rotten, in a way I suspect he's wanted to do for years. Mom became a quite a strategist, figuring out how to wash my hair, with no chairs to put by the sink, painting my toe-nails to match my cast, packing my gear so I could travel. And thanks to my brother and his girl, that beautiful baby kept coming around.



Then, finally and yet too soon, I got my clearance to travel home.



Home, where I live independently. Home, where I've been for just under 6 months.

Home, where an acquaintance spent 2 days rescuing my car from the parking lot where I'd left it, so confident I'd be back soon.

Home, where another virtual stranger picked me up from the airport at dawn and drove me to my door.

Home, where the nearest family is 4 hours away.

Thank God my sister was able to come up and join me for a few days. She's helped me shop for the things an invalid needs, rearranged the house to be more mobility-friendly, and helped me feel not quite so lost. She also brought cute kids to give me hugs. Oh, and new wine glasses, for when I am ready to celebrate.

I look back on my decision to move here, and the hundred ways God blessed that move. I re-read my own blog from August, and really do believe He was with me, coming here, at this time.

I also believe He allowed this accident to happen this winter. Somehow this is all part of "the plan."

So I have to believe that somehow He will bring it all together for good.

Because right now, I just want to go home. Home to mom's house. Home to my sister's couch. Home to Tacoma, where I left so many wonderful, helpful friends. Home, dear readers, I have finally realized, is where you are not alone.


Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. - Joshua 1:9

(Super thanks to my friend CM who posted this verse on Facebook just when I needed it the most. Thanks, girl, for following the Spirit's leading. May you be blessed, always!).

Home for the Holidays (Heb 11:9a)

NYC 2012

Years ago, I remember my Uncle Bill telling me not to answer the everyday-ordinary question "how are you?" with the reflexive answer "fine." He said that if someone was taking the trouble to ask me a question, the least I could do was give them an honest and well-considered answer. To this day, I can't say "fine," when asked about my general disposition.

Lately, though, people keep asking me if I'm going home for the holidays, and I wish I could pop off with an easy answer. I know it's just conversation. I know they mean well.  They're just being friendly. However, I don't think they realize how difficult that question is for me.

Because I don't know what "home" means.

When they say "home," I think they mean to family. Unless they don't. Maybe they mean to ask "are you going back to Washington?"

Santa's helper, 2012

The main reason I moved this summer was to be closer to family. In that sense, I am going home for the holidays. I've already been down to my sister's, inspected the tree, and dropped off gifts. I'll be travelling Christmas week to see my parents and my brother's family. There will be laughter and tears, wine and chocolate, twinkling lights and tinsel. There will be a baby underfoot for Christmas day; boxes everywhere, movies no one is really watching on TV, and good food in the kitchen. Is "to family" what they mean when they say "home?"

In fact, I have enjoyed quite a lot of fantastic family time in the last few months. I've seen my nephew play basketball and fight pirates. I was at my oldest niece's birthday party. I'm finally comfortable enough in my sister's kitchen to make my own coffee (though she didn't like my brew). I even surprised mom & dad (who are 12 hours away) one weekend - thanks to my soon-to-be-sister-in-law, who helped me with the details. I took my baby niece for doughnuts, and saw my brother's new place. I even got to connect with an aunt and a couple of cousins when they "escaped" to New York for a weekend. I could've seen another aunt and uncle, if he wasn't a straight-through-on-direct-routes type of traveler (or if I didn't have to work Fridays).  So in that sense, I guess I go "home" most weekends.

Ruston, WA, 2011

On the other hand, if by "home" my inquisitive friends mean Washington, the place I lived until just recently, then I'd have to say no. The time I've spent with my family since I moved has been priceless, and I don't regret my decision to get geographically closer. However, I have been feeling remarkably home-sick for the life I left behind. Home is my friends and our traditions. Home is knowing where the best celebrations are, and where to park when I go. Home is Cyndie's bread-pudding, "fruitcake" from the highschool, and half-day-spa-day at the start of break. Home is making cookies with the girls, attending half-a-dozen kids' concerts/recitals/pageants, helping with the Scott family's annual Christmas party. Home is sharing wine and (re)packing for vacation with my "other godmother;" cold December rain, and evergreens everywhere. Home is a murder-mystery on New Year's Eve. So, in that sense, no... I won't be home for the holidays.



Yet, that's not my home anymore.  I moved. So now I need to make new traditions, memories, and friends here, and I am working on it. That's the really ironic part. By asking if I'm going "home" for the holidays, my well-intentioned new friends inadvertently label me an other, an outsider. As if there's somewhere else I belong. The truth is, my home is HERE, where I chose to live. Maybe not in the apartment I'm in now - as I mentioned in an earlier post, it doesn't feel much like a home - but certainly here in this community.

on display outside the the 610 carwash, VA, 2012

Sure, I am alone in an unfamiliar town at a time of year when tradition and togetherness are the most common themes. When I get that "blue Christmas" feeling, though, I remember that the real heart of Christmas is Jesus, Immanuel, God-with-us. I'm not alone. And I'm not without traditions.

I'm thankful that people care enough to ask about my plans. I'm happy to make conversation. I just hope they forgive my momentary confusion, as I try to decide how to answer that tricky question. I guess I'm not going home for the holidays (though I certainly will be traveling). I am home. At least, as much as I can be this side of heaven.

By faith [Abraham] made his home in the promised land, like a stranger in a foreign country...."
  -Hebrews 11:9a

A Prayer for Sandy Hook

I was going to write something about Christmas caroling this weekend. It's a great tradition, one my friends and I kept up for many years, in many neighborhoods, in two different states. I love it, even if I really shouldn't be singing outside the shower. Getting out of our comfort zones. Spreading "tidings of comfort and joy." It seemed like a great blog post.

Then Sandy Hook happened.

Suddenly a blog devoted to caroling seems trivial.

Instead, I can't stop thinking about those families. The families who lost children. The other families whose children saw things children should never see. The families of the teachers. The family of the principal. The family of the shooter - whose mother was also a victim - and who must also be devastated by his actions today.

Christmas 2012 is going to be hard for them.
In fact, every Christmas from now on will be hard for them.

So I'm praying for them.

Jesus, let the people of Newton find comfort in each other and in the compassion of caring people from around the world. Welcome the innocent children to your holy presence. As their neighbors and families cry, let them have friends to hold them, sit with them, dry their tears and cry with them. Wonderful Counselor, be their comfort in this time of deep darkness.
Be with the surviving children, as they sleep tonight, and keep the nightmares away. As they wake tomorrow, give them the courage to get up, go out, and begin putting their lives back together. Be with the teachers as they grieve for the lost. Give them the strength to face their fears. In January, fill students and teachers with the courage they will need to go back to school. Be with the parents, as they help their children process the unthinkable. Be with the parents as they face their own fears each time they leave for work or send their children to school.
Lord, none of this makes sense to any of us. It's so awful. We are all sad, angry, scared, and confused. Let us not cause more harm as we try to sort this out. Draw us to you. Guide us. Comfort us. Be with us. Be with Newton. Bring them comfort and, eventually, bring their joy back. And please, Lord, keep our children safe.
Amen.

1943-Norman Rockwell - "Freedom from Fear"

It's beginning to look a *little* like Christmas! (Heb 11:1)

Oh, Christmas tree... how lovely are your branches.

City sidewalks, busy sidewalks, dressed in holiday style.
Silver and gold, means so much more when I see... silver and gold decorations, on every Christmas tree.

Deck the halls with boughs of holly! 'Tis the season to be jolly!

It's the most wonderful time of the year!

I truly do love Christmas. I love cards. Breezy little news updates from all corners of my life.  I love the songs. And that everyone sings, so no-one notices my off-key contribution to the glee. I love the treats. The cookies. The candies. The soups. The amazing entrees. Did I mention the cookies? I love the pervasive attitude of good will (even in crowded stores).

I especially love the decorations. Twinkling lights. Green, red, and white everywhere. Priceless handmade treasures alongside carefully crafted elegance; joy oozing out of every nook and cranny. When I (fairly ruthlessly) eliminated piles of stuff prior to my move this year, there were still 4 storage bins full of Christmas stuff I had to keep. 

However, this year I've opted for minimal decorations.

One small (crochet) tree. One nativity. One Santa doll (not even my favorite). One stocking. One book. Some movies. 

I have a lot of reasons.

I'm working an average of 11 hours/day, and worrying about work more than I should when I'm "off." I'm honestly exhausted most of the time lately. The idea of unpacking those boxes (and then repacking them in 4 weeks) is more than I can take right now.

Besides, no-one comes to my place. Ever. There's no reason to. I'm not even (generally) home on weekends. I'll be visiting family for the big day. Not counting the hours spent sleeping or getting ready for work in the morning, I calculate that I'll be home about 120 hours this month - total. 

Mainly, though, I'm not decorating my house because it doesn't feel like home.

I'm staying there. My bed is there. But I know it's temporary. More so than the other rentals I've occupied, because I know the owner is planning to sell. In the past, it was always up to me how long I stayed. If I loved a place, I always believed I could stay there, indefinitely. This time, I know that's not the case.

Which gets me thinking about heaven.

One of the most important tenets of my faith is that Earth is not all there is. We have a home that is unimaginably greater than this world.

More fantastic than the fabulous food served at holiday feasts.
More comfortable than a crackling fire and cozy socks on a chilly day.

More thrilling than the moment that long-anticipated, beautifully wrapped gift beneath the elegant tree is finally opened.
More awe-inspiring than the multitudes of stars, shimmering in the night sky, like Christmas lights in stores, on streets, on houses, in trees.

More joyous than off-key carolers proclaiming the good news of Jesus' birth on every street corner.
More wonderful than a phone call or Skype with someone dear who is far away.
More heart-warming than the love we so imperfectly try to show our families and friends.

More incredible, even,  than the magic that keeps Santa on schedule and in the air, year after year.
More blissful than the laughter of children, building snowmen, and hoping for magic.

Ok. Maybe not greater than children laughing. But at least as good. 

Merry Christmas, everyone. And whether your decorations are big or small, may they remind you of the hope we have of better yet to come!

To have faith is to be sure of the things we hope for, to be certain of the things we cannot see. -Hebrews 11:1

Happy Family-Season (Ps 104:12-13)

My sis took this pic. It's mom's backyard in NH.

September 21 was the official beginning of fall. For me, though, the weekend after Halloween seems like the real change of the seasons. Halloween, with its fairs and festivals, corn mazes and pumpkin patches, bonfires and frightful feasts, seems more like summer's last hurrah.

Now, the trees are shaking off their leaves. The coats, scarves, hats, and boots have been moved out of their hiding spots. Calendars are filling with holiday happenings. 

So, I'm thinking we need to rename the seasons.

Family Season: November & December.

One of my lovely "other" families.
God puts families together.
By birth or by other means.

Dear-old-dad trying to decide where to draw the line between need and want.

That *is* what the holidays are supposed to be about, right? I mean, there are those who would say it's more honest to call it the shopping season, but those people just don't have the right kind of loved ones. This is a great time to be thankful for the blessings we already have, and to make more memories, together!

Celebration Season: June - October.

How can you not celebrate when
there's yummy goodness on the grill?

Vacations. Staycations. Fairs. Festivals. Carnivals. Barbeques. There's just so much to celebrate!

Awakening Season: April & May. 

My sister, again. She does some great stuff with her camera!

Have you ever walked in a garden in the Spring? Or worked with tweens/teens?  Flowers opening to the sun. Tragic mudslides. Beauty and devastation, side by side. Teens and flowers. Yup. Spring.

Quiet Season: January - March. 

January 2012, Steilacoom WA, during the "snowpocalypse."

With just a few tiny exceptions, there's really not much happening at this time of year. We're recovering from the togetherness (and expense) of family season, and preparing for the coming awakening & celebrations. Plus, there's the likelyhood of snow. Hmmm... sounds like a good season for sleeping, reading, and rediscovering yourself. Oh, and the average person lasts until about March (less than 100 days) with their New Year's Resolution. Seems like a good time to change the subject -er- season.

Now that we're on the same page, let me say it again. Welcome to family season. Enjoy this time with family and friends. Celebrate the many ways they make your life richer, better, more fun, more interesting. Whether you are looking at falling leaves or twinkling lights, think of the countless little ways your loved ones make your life more colorful, and count yourself blessed. I know I do.

In the trees near by, the birds make their nests and sing. From the sky you send rain on the hills, and the earth is filled with your blessings.                            --Psalm 104:12-13 GNT

Wild Weather (Is 6:20)

This picture was from a good article on CNBC.com (click to follow link).

The experts are calling it Frankenstorm. Hurricane Sandy meets Nor'easter (hot wind + cold wind) during a full moon. I think the nickname is quite funny, but I know that it's really nothing to laugh at.

I'm as ready as I can be. I have an emergency radio.The flashlights all have new batteries. All my water jugs are full, I have extra water in the cupboard, and there's plenty of peanut butter, granola bars, and apples. The first aid kits are stocked (all except the neosporin - somehow I forgot to replenish that). My phone and computer are living on their chargers.

I live in a basement, though. So half of my supplies are in the car, just in case. The gas tank is full. My sister lives safely south of the "affected area," so I have a plan. 

Having just moved, I'll admit, I didn't have my emergency stuff in order; I had to go buy water Friday night. Along with about half the city, it seems, because the stores were nearly sold out of water. And bread. And beer (not that I wanted beer - I prefer just about anything else! - but I couldn't help noticing the empty shelves). My sister assures me that if I'd checked the diapers aisle that would've been low, too.

Which got me to thinking about preparedness. In my entire adult life, I've never experienced a real disaster (thankfully). I spent most of my adult life in the western Puget Sound region; a region naturally protected from too much trauma - other than the occasional mild earthquake. This past January, we endured "snowpocalypse," a massive snow and ice storm that kept the city shut down for a week. I was without power for 3 days, some friends were out longer. My main concerns during that event were 1) keeping icy branches from crushing my car and 2) cabin-fever! While living in Denver, I also experienced a couple of genuine so-called "blizzards," but a blizzard in the city looks much different than the ones you might imagine from Little House on the Prarie. All that to say, I've had no reason to be prepared.

But I (sortof) was. Ever since my first perceptible earthquake (2001) - I've had an "emergency kit." Just in case. I generally rotate the goods in it with the seasons, just to keep things fresh. So I don't really understand the shoppers who clean the shelves at the last minute. They can't all be new to town. They can't ALL have just finished unpacking and setting up a new life. They live here. There was a big wind storm here this summer. It knocked out power to parts of VA for over a week. Maybe they used up their supplies then. Maybe they should've stocked up again after that?

By Courtney Carmody, via Flickr

Which reminded me: Jesus says "no man knows the day or the hour" (Matthew 24:36) of His return. He even told a story about women, waiting for their husbands to return from a deployment, during a storm, and not having batteries in their flashlights (ok, it wasn't exactly like that, but it could have been - Matthew 25). When the end of the world finally arrives, we won't have days to prepare. We won't have alarms and storm trackers and friends and neighbors calling to be sure we have everything we need. When the end of this world of pain and suffering finally comes, it will be in the blink of an eye. 

So we need to be ready, and we need to reach out to our friends and neighbors NOW to help them be ready, because we love them, and we want them to be safe. So call someone. Share the good news.
The end *is* coming. Let's get ready together.

"Your days of grief will come to an end. I, the Lord, will be your eternal light." -Isaiah 6:20

D-A-D-S. (Repost from father's day 2011).

Reposted in honor of my brother's first father's day.
You're turning out to be a pretty good dad, kiddo! Keep it up.  Your precious daughter is learning more than you can imagine, every day. 

___________________________________________________________________________

Today is the day we celebrate Dads.

Deciders

Answer-givers  

Dragon-slayers

Supporters

I remember when I was a kid there was a rustic, burnt-wood sign in our family room (suspiciously near the corner where I spent quality time when I was being 'lippy'  that said, "Anyone can be a father, but it takes someone special to be a daddy." At the time I thought it was just a cute play on words. As I grew up, I learned the real significance of that cheesy plaque.

Dads are the guys who stick around.

I've learned that dads are the real men. The men who make the hard choices. The men who put the needs of their children ahead of their own wants. The men who work extra hours to buy barbies and bycicles and prom dresses. The men who listen to endless stories about strange children and stranger tv shows. The men who teach their children to catch a ball, to drive, and to dance.

The men who are there.

As frustrating as it is for moms, it seems to be dad's praise that kids crave most. It's generally dad's approval they seek. It's dad's time that is most precious.



Perhaps that's because (for most of us) mom's love is a given. She is there. She is constant. She bore us. It's too easy to take her for granted (I'm not saying we should, but this is Father's day). Deep down, we all know dad had a choice.

Whether they know it or not, whether they accept it or not, whether we accept it or not, our dads represent our first impression of God, our heavenly Father.

Is it any wonder that some people turn from God, when their own fathers turn from them? That they fear God, when their own fathers hurt them? That they cannot trust God, because their own fathers betrayed them? This note is not for the rotten or evil dads. They are distortions; selfish shadows filling the world with hurt and hate. We don't celebrate them.

This is for the other ones. The ones who do the best they can. The ones we honor today.

The ones who teach us to see and hear God through the things they say and do.

Dad says "I want to hear your good news. I want to celebrate with you. I want to hug and high-five and shout when you succeed. I will cheer loudest at your victories and embarrass you with my joy."

Dad says "I want to be there for you during the hard times. I want to help you in any way I can. I want to fix everything so that you never have to suffer. Some things I cannot fix. I'm sorry - more sorry than you can know. But know that seeing you suffer hurts me, too."

Dad says "I want to keep you safe. I worry about you all the time. I will always protect you any way I can. And if the mean, ugly things of the world hurt you anyway, come to me. I will help you heal."

Dad says "No matter what you've done, I'm here. I'd give my life for you." 

 Dad says "I know there are things you cannot do. Let me help. I want to help."

Dad says "I want to give you everything you wish for. Sometimes I can't, but I want to. I want you to have it all. Anything I have - just ask."

Dad says "My greatest joy is seeing you. I love hearing your voice. I like seeing your face. Make room for me in your life."

Dad says "I love you, no matter what."

The card says: "Smile, 'cause Dad says so."

Thanks, dad(s) for being there. 

God is smiling on you. 

He likes what you're teaching us to hear.