Vacation of Sorts

It seems like we've been on vacation for days.  Not really, but we have strayed far from our routine.  That's the fun of summer!  On the day of Arielle's adventure to the warehouse, Liana and I had a delightful day of sewing.  We will soon be ready to start up our Etsy store!  For now, we are focusing on bags and have five nearly ready to go.


The next two days brought the much-anticipated home school conference that I long for every year.  It energizes me for a new school year.  There are great speakers, either other parents sharing their journeys or curriculum authors who give me insight into new books or methods to use in teaching.  The first day of the conference I took the girls and my granddaughter Lana.  They even had their own session with other girls at one point in the day.  Arielle searched the used books to provide her with summer reading, and I perused new books, longingly thumbing through, but only buying exactly what we truly needed.  I've always loved books--the feel of them, the smell of them.  Thank you, Mother, for instilling that in me.


The next day of the conference Fred gave me a gift of time.  He stayed with the girls at home so I could think and plan and check out vendors and sit in on lectures.  To top off the day, three friends and I stopped for dinner on the way home.  We sat outdoors in an unusual restaurant along an unused railroad track in the middle of town.  The restaurant served organic, locally grown meats, fruits and vegetables.  My daughter-in-law would love it here!  (Want to go, Stacia?)  We had lovely salads of bibb lettuce with cheeses and fresh berries.  Lady food--not at all suitable for my meat-a-tarian husband!


Fred had some vacation time, so on Monday we took a day trip.  We drove only an hour away, but it might as well have been in another state.  I can't believe I've lived here so long and haven't seen this part of the countryside. The beauty of the gorgeous rolling hills with farmland planted in patches of green and yellow caused even Fred to slow down and relax.  Giant cottony clouds rested lightly on the horizon and a mountain ridge stretched all around in the distance. Our destination was a cave in the midst of a pine forest.  As we hiked to the entrance, the heavy pine scent sent me back to childhood, camping in Yosemite with my family and the mixed emotions of those days.  The cave has an interesting history of entertaining guests in an underground ballroom complete with piano while World War II raged on in Europe. 


Later we traveled further north toward the mountains and visited a most unusual store full of stuffed animals.  No, not toys.  This was a Man Store with nothing much of interest for the girls and me except for the many specimens of deer arranged in their natural habitat.  Like a zoo, only the deer were dead.  It was a little unnerving.


On the way home we stopped at a place where Fred used to visit as a child with his parents and sisters. I know it holds a lot of memories for him, what sort, I'm not sure.  The pagoda was closed so we couldn't climb to the top, but we had a great view anyway of the nearby town from this high point.  Arielle thought she could see the building where Damien and Gretchen were married.  Only good times reigned that night!


To end our vacation, we stopped at a local Chinese restaurant for cheap, delicious food.  Even though we didn't go far from home, it was fun to pretend we were away on a trip.  And actually, this was one of our best family days that I can remember.  I hope the girls will tuck this away in their hearts and maybe one day tell the stories to their own children.  I want their memories to always be a picture of pure joy and love without the dark frame of raging war that so often distorts their parent's.  

Leaving the Nest

On September 11, 2001, Arielle, at three years old, began her education at a Christian school nearby.  Just minutes later, on a TV in K-Mart, Fred and I watched in horror what happened that day.  I remember my strong impulse to just go and retrieve our little daughter from school, so she would be safe with us while the world was out of control.  We did not.  But we circled her school, which remained quiet and peaceful, as the radio news station reported the disaster.  


For that one year Arielle proudly rode in the front seat of her daddy's pick-up truck (strapped in her carseat) as he drove her to school each day.  She loved it, and young as she was, she still has vivid memories of that fun year.  She has always been bold and confident, never clinging to mommy and never homesick.  She was always ready for a new adventure.


Early this morning Arielle got in the front seat of the car with Fred (no carseat) as he drove her to church to meet up with others for a two hour trip to serve with an organization that sends supplies overseas to schools and orphanages in impoverished areas.  Today they will pack seeds to send to Gambia.  Arielle is excited to go.  She still loves an adventure, and she has a serving heart for others.  It is hard to let her go, not just today, but as she gradually leaves her family and sets off in the world.  She wants to visit missionaries and care for needy people, already planning a trip to Spain in her senior year.  


I have to let go and I have to learn to trust. Trust her--and I do more and more as I see her maturity and wisdom.  And trust God.  He showed me years ago that she is the "apple of his eye."  He loves her even more than I love her!  Amazing.  I know God has great plans and purpose for her life.  He chose her from the ends of the earth and graciously gave her to us for a season.  But she is his and not ours.

Finding God

We don't have to look far to find God. This morning I was reading Psalm 36.  Sometimes we read familiar passages and it's easy to just skim over the words and not allow them to really penetrate our souls.  But this time the freshness and vitality of God's words caused me to  meditate on the message.


This time of the year I love to take walks outside and look at God's creation, even in our own backyard.  His living creation gives me great joy.  My new butterfly bush is bursting with spiky purple cones and I found two gorgeous yellow lilies growing in front of the house.  Where did they come from?  I've never seen these blooms before.  Our cabbage plants all in a row remind me of Mr. McGregor's garden in a Peter Rabbit picture book.  A little gray catbird visits me among our vegetables early in the morning.  Even if I'm not outside, I hear her "mew, mew, mew" through the open windows. I can forgive the deer that ate the tops off all our new sunflowers because I so enjoy watching this beautiful animal wander across the lawn.

"God's invisible attributes, namely his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived ever since the creation of the world in the things that have been made."  (Romans 1)
We see God's character in nature. He is not hard to find. We instinctively know "the heavens declare the glory of God."  (Psalm 19)  But what do they declare?

From Psalm 36:  "Your steadfast love, O Lord, extends to the heavens, your faithfulness to the clouds."  I remember a day in the park when we were flying kites.  To stare into the sky for such an extended period of time mesmerized me.  I had never contemplated the beauty of the endless, boundless, eternal heavens before and connected it to God's never-ending love for his people.  Will the clouds remind us of his faithful presence whether billowy white or stormy dark?  


"Your righteousness is like the mountains of God; your judgments are like the great deep; man and beast you save, O Lord."  God is our solid rock,  massive and towering, our fortress.  The great abyss threatens, but he promises to save.  


"How precious is your steadfast love, O God!  The children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of your wings."  Picture a great bird overhead as it soars, casting a shadow on us below.  We hide beneath God's saving grace.


"They feast on the abundance of your house, and you give them drink from the river of your delights."  We have rivers teeming with life all around us. God's blessings flow generously, nourishing and refreshing us.  (I've counted 445 gifts so far on my way to 1000.)


"For with you is the fountain of life; in your light do we see light."  God enables us to see and know him.  "For God, who said, 'Let light shine out of darkness,' has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ."  (II Corinthians 4)


We can see God in all of creation, but even more so, we see God in the face of his son.  One of Jesus' disciples said to him, "Lord, show us the Father, and it is enough for us."  Jesus answered, "Whoever has seen me has seen the Father."  The character of God is clearly revealed in the life of Jesus.  Read the gospels, see the Son, find God.

End of the Year

Today is the official last day of school.  With homeschooling, we kind of just fade out rather than have a definitive end.  But today we reach 180 days, as required by law.  Arielle still needs to take a science test and finish her Algebra book and Liana will continue to have math and reading every day. So I guess we're not really finished.  But I think I will surprise the girls and take them out for ice cream later this afternoon.


Last week Arielle had a graduation ceremony at church.  She is moving into the high school ministry.  Then last night Liana also had a graduation.  She is moving into the middle school ministry.  My babies are growing up.  It is shocking to me how quickly time passes.  Any "old" mom will tell you that.  Love your children well while you have them.


Another conclusion to many months of hard work and angst:  4-H is officially over.  Well, kind of.  At least the weekly sewing marathon has ended.  We will still work on preparing for the fabric sale at the fair in August.  And Arielle has a little work to do before the regional fashion show in a couple of weeks.  But the county show is over!  Getting ready the week before?  Let's just say, I'm VERY glad it's over.  The last minute hemming and fixing and adjusting just about brought all of us to tears.  Arielle vowed to never sew again.  But that was a Friday, and Saturday changed everyone's attitude.  Liana won in her division and Arielle found out all the older girls qualify to go on the regionals.

Liana has already started a new sewing project at home and Arielle is looking through patterns to see what she might want to make this summer.  They both still have the sewing bug.

Step-mother

When I acquired a father last Christmas, I didn't realize I would also get a step-mother.  How strange!  


My father is dying.  He was supposed to go to a bowling tournament halfway across the country this May, but now I hear he can hardly breathe and has difficulty even getting out of bed.  It's been a fast decline.  He needs a heart valve replacement, a serious surgery, and supposedly only two hospitals on the West Coast do this particular procedure that he needs.  He lives four and a half hours away from the closet one.  I can't imagine he can even make the trip.


My husband's relationship with his mother has always been volatile. She is not a kind person and yet Fred continually honors her by reaching out to her. On Tuesday last week I was thinking about this and my former decision to write my father off for his lack of response to every attempt I've made to reach him.  I asked myself if he died, would I have regrets that I never called?  No, I don't think so.  I did my part.  So why was I so troubled this day thinking about him?  I prayed about it, thought about calling, got up the courage to do it, lost the courage, and went about my day.


I was cleaning up the school room and under a pile of books I found a pink envelope with a Nevada phone number.  At some point I had looked up the number and scribbled it down.  There it was staring me in the face. Why I happened to find it now, I didn't know.  I will call, I decided.


After the girls finished school and the afternoon was quiet I called the home of my father for the first time in my life, my father lost to me for over fifty years.  His wife--my step-mother--answered on the first ring.  She is a quirky woman!  It was as if we had just talked the day before.  I said who I was and she immediately launched into a big update on my father's health.  It seemed she expected me to call and check on him.  She is quite the talker and I didn't need to worry about what I would say.  I realized why I felt the urgency to call.  She needed a listening ear.  I put aside any agenda I might have had to gain information and focused on assuring her that we cared for the two of them going through the challenge of their lives.  I just listened.  She would switch from stories of the past to her fears about their future.  The surgery is very serious and my father is in his eighties.  But he will die without it.  I did not ask to talk to my father. I enjoyed my step-mother, and in the end she said she was so glad I called.  She says she feels she knows me, which is very funny because I said absolutely nothing about myself or my family.  I just listened, and that is what she needed that day.  


*****I wrote this post up to this point last week.  Today, May 28th, I write this:  I came home on Saturday afternoon and checked my caller ID.  I had a call from Nevada.  That gave me a start, but I thought surely my step-mother would not be calling me. We had just "met"!  I could not find my pink envelope to match up the scribbled number to see if it was her.  And a generic voice answered when the number was called back.  I did not leave a message.  A little while later my son called to tell me that my step-mother was trying to reach me.  I then knew why, and my son confirmed it.  My father had died.  He died the very next day after I made my first call to him.   He died in the same hospital where I was born.


On Sunday, before I had the chance to call her, my step-mother called me again.  She said she wanted to be the first one to tell me.  She told me the details of what happened and also her anxiety of what life will hold for her now, losing her husband of 40 years.  She is not just an illusion anymore, but a real person.  And from her stories, my father became real too.   

River Walk

We were invited to walk the river trail with my son Jon and his family on a glorious spring day.  The girls and I suffer from nature deficit disorder and as I watched my granddaughter Lana running through the woods, I notice that she is quite comfortable here.  Her parents take her outdoors for hikes several times a week.  We need more of this!


The river ran fast and brown from the storm the night before.  Jon takes the kids a little too close to the water for my comfort.  And what about snakes and poison ivy? (Or maybe the bogeyman is lurking behind the trees?)  I realize I am too fearful and that is a result from not letting the kids be kids.  I didn't used to be like this.  My boys were free to roam and explore when they were little.  I hold on too tightly now.  So as we walk, I slowly relax and just enjoy the beauty of this day.  

The girls had given me a butterfly bush for Mother's Day.  As they were choosing it, Fred said they needed to get a dwarf variety so we could plant it in a flower bed.  This day of our river walk, Jon and Chrissy give me a huge butterfly bush!  I think they can grow up to ten feet high. But Fred doesn't complain and plants it right in the middle of the yard, not as part of the shrubbery framing the house, but boldly in front of it.  It is a joyous reminder of a new season and the hope of visits from butterflies and hummingbirds throughout the summer.  I see it and think of grace, love, and forgiveness.   

Celebrating Family

"For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven...a time to be born, a time to die, a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted...a time to weep, and a time to laugh, a time to mourn, and a time to dance..."  (Ecclesiastes 3)

Mother's Day weekend was a time of laughing and dancing, a time to celebrate family.  Somehow, when I have been suffering the most grief about the past and my little boys, they shower me with grace.  Each of them, in his own unique way, has blessed me this past week.  My little girls hop into my room Sunday morning bearing gifts. The cold and rain is over, our school work almost done, and it's time to rejoice.

The weekend begins with my granddaughter Laci's 4th birthday party.  My son Nick is a great father and he planned the ultimate party for his little daughter.  She loves bunnies, so the top bunny of all hopped out of the woods--the Easter bunny!  Laci was delighted.  We laughed every time we looked at him.

It's sunny and breezy on Mother's Day, the perfect backdrop for all our plans.  Our yard surprises us with brilliant bursts of color here and there, each flower blooming at its appointed time.  My iris make me happy.  I heard they are also called flags.  What a great word.  I see them waving, heralding a new season.  The rich earth of our vegetable garden is warm and crumbly as we set out baby plants green and sturdy.  Fred takes us to Rita's for a special gift of gelatis and we burn our backsides on the sun-baked bench outside.  I cut rhubarb and rosemary for Marissa to take home and we enjoy the deck for the first time this year in the wooden Adirondack chairs my dear husband made. Damien and his wife engage us in deep conversation as the day fades into twilight.  I don't want to ever forget this weekend.  It was one of the best.  Weeping and mourning will one day come, but not now.

Burning Bush

"My harp has been out of tune, and I had no heart to write. Perhaps you are ready to infer, by my sitting down to write at last, that my harp is now well tuned, and I have something extraordinary to offer: beware of thinking so, lest you should be sadly disappointed"  (John Newton, former slave-trade ship captain who became a pastor and hymn writer)


The day-to-day stuff has been getting me down.  Liana's illness took a lot out of me, and for some reason my boys have been on my mind a lot.  They are all doing well.  But it's the past that haunts me, the complexity of relating to my adult children and how all that came before interferes.  Daughters-in-law are complicated.  I don't know how to do this.  My little girls have always been my comfort, my way to fix the wrong by trying to be a good mother to them.  I guess I thought I'd redeem myself that way.  Now they are getting older and they will soon be part of the group of "adult children.".  Will I lose them too?  I can't bear it.

We have a fiery shrub along our driveway.  It's really not pink but a blazing red right now, our burning bush.  I need a burning bush moment, when God will show up and give me some direction.  


"Now Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law, and he led his flock to the west side of the mountain...and an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush.  He looked, and behold, the bush was burning, yet it was not consumed.  And Moses said, 'I will turn aside to see this great sight, why the bush is not burned.' When the Lord saw that he turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, 'Moses, Moses!'  And he said, 'Here I am.'"  (Exodus 3)


Moses is minding his own business, going about his work, and the bush gets his attention.  "I will turn aside," he says.  He will stop what he's doing and go and check it out.  Then it says WHEN God saw he had turned aside to look, he spoke to him.  When do I ever turn aside to hear what God has to say?


The girls and I recently saw Amazing Grace, a movie about William Wilberforce and his battle to abolish the slave trade in the British Empire.  John Newton, author of the hymn "Amazing Grace", was another interesting character in the film.  He says, "Sometimes God speaks to us through a storm (or burning bush?) and sometimes in a gentle rain...drip, drip, drip."  Maybe I've been seeking a big revelation when I should be listening for God in the ordinary day-to-day moments. (Quote is from the movie.  I don't know if Newton really said that.  But the quote in the beginning of this post is Newton's actual words.)


Newton (in the movie) also said he lived every day with 20,000 ghosts, the faces of the slaves who traveled on his ships.  He had a hard time forgiving himself, but says,"I am a great sinner; Christ is a great Savior."  I know how he feels.


My little girls gather long-stemmed buttercups from our yard and present them to me.  My son Damien calls me on Sunday just to say thank you for doing mom stuff when he was little.  I feel so unworthy of it all.  Amazing grace.

When God spoke to Moses from the burning bush, Moses hid his face.  He said he wasn't up for the task.  God responded, "But I will be with you."

Right Now

The director of a private school hired me to grade papers. All I knew was that she was overwhelmed and needed me to get this work done quickly. I drove forty minutes to pick up the papers and receive instruction. I assumed the grading would be objective--maybe math tests with an answer key, definite right or wrong answers. To my surprise, she wanted me to grade high school essays! I wasn't sure I was up for the task but thought I'd give it a try.

That afternoon I pulled out the papers and began to read. Lucky for me, the students had just read Romeo and Juliet and were writing papers based on the teacher's assigned thesis and specific points. So I knew exactly what was expected of them. Arielle had just finished reading this play for her literature class at the co-op and had written her own paper, so the story was very familiar to me. I did have to ask Arielle a few questions on facts as I was going over the essays, and she was a big help.

It was a very warm afternoon and we all sat at the dining room table, the girls finishing up school work. As twilight came, a light breeze cooled us off. Liana finished typing her essay on pianist Clara Schumann and Arielle continued work on her research paper on endangered tigers. What a lovely, peaceful evening! At first... Then came interruptions--phone calls, Fred's arrival home and needing food, Liana's cries of frustration over math, a sudden ant invasion, a bee flying over our heads and the girls screaming. Now I am frustrated! How was I going to finish up these papers when I couldn't hold a thought for two minutes?

I read a quote from Ann Voskamp. She was cleaning up the messes left by her six children and she wrote: "I get to be here and do this." Simple words, much implication. I get to be here! I am privileged to be here in my own home with my treasured daughters and husband. I get to do this! Right here, right now, I am able to do this work. How often I need to be reminded to live in the moment and be grateful.

This morning I wake to a chorus of thousands as the bamboo birds chatter to each other, preparing to fly away for the day. They sound so joyful, ready for their adventure, whatever it may be. My dear husband brings me coffee and my daughters sleep on. It's a new adventure for us all this beautiful spring morning. Thank God for another day of life--for an ordinary day of extraordinary blessing.

New Life

Sometimes April comes with tears amidst the blooms of spring. Last year my friend wept into her hands, knowing her time on earth was coming to an end. But right outside her glass door a hummingbird hovered over a pot of scarlet petals and we watched with wonder. A couple of Aprils ago a late night call crushed my soul. My little sister, battle-weary, finally let go, her eyes lingering on her son's face for the last time. That spring an apricot lily I'd never seen before unfurled outside my door, bold on a strong green stalk. We rage against the injustice and marvel at new life bursting forth from the the dead of winter.

This April we longed for a return to good health, and we thanked God for healing. On Thursday before Easter, we prayed and confessed. My precious daughters, my husband, my granddaughter--we soberly reflected on the death that brought the only hope to the world as we walked down the aisle to take the bread and wine. "Take eat...drink of it, all of you." On Sunday we were refreshed, and with joyful tears I saw my son and daughter-in-law submerged in the waters of baptism.

"Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his." Romans 6:3-5.

Our family gathers in the warm afternoon sun and children look for colored eggs in the fresh green of the lawn. A new baby cries for his dinner and we rejoice in our blessings and God's work in the lives of our people, beloved people around our table. April will bring other tears at later times. We treasure our time in this world, but when the time comes to say good-bye we will not grieve as others who have no hope. We will suffer because he suffered. We will die because he died. But we will be raised because he was raised. The promise and our hope is that one day God will wipe away all tears from our eyes and death shall be no more. All things will be made new.

Palm Sunday Christian

"As Jesus rode along, they spread their cloaks on the road...the whole mulititude of disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works that they had seen, saying, 'Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!'" (Luke 19:36-38)


It is easy to praise him when things go well. I'm pretty good at that. But I'm finding out that I don't do so well during times of adversity, that somehow I feel entitled to certain things. I don't like my perfect little life disrupted by illness or inconvenience or anything that interrupts how I think things should go. "When I get what I want, do I get smug? When I don't, do I get angry? Entitlement ignores God's provision and smothers gratitude." (Bob Snyder, M.D. from "Lessons Learned on the Journey")


"How many times have I wondered how they could throw down their garments before him on Sunday and then throw their fists at him on Friday? But I'm the one in the front row...This is what happens when God doesn't meet expectations. When God doesn't conform to hopes, someone always goes looking for a hammer....I bang my frustration loud." (Ann Voskamp)


Hard times frustrate.

"His people must suffer; therefore, expect it Christian; if thou art a child of God believe it, look for it, and when it comes, say, 'Well suffering, I foresaw thee; thou art no stranger; I have looked for thee continually.' You cannot tell how much it will lighten your trials, if you await them with resignation. In fact, make it a wonder if you get through a day easily. If you remain a week without persecution, think it a remarkable thing; and if you should, perchance, live a month without heaving a sigh from your inmost heart, think it a miracle of miracles. But when the trouble comes, say, 'Ah! this is what I looked for; it is marked in the chart to heaven; the rock is put down; I will sail confidently by it; my Master has not deceived me.'" (Charles Spurgeon)


At a very low point when Liana was ill and doctors were no help and I was exhausted with worry, I read the following from Charles Spurgeon. He wrote about Jesus' prayer in the garden. How many of us will ever face what he did?


"Here are several instructive features in our Saviour's prayer in His hour of trial. It was lonely prayer. He withdrew even from His three favoured disciples. Believer, be much in solitary prayer, especially in times of trial… It was humble prayer. Luke says He knelt, but another evangelist says He fell on His face. Where, then, must be THY place, thou humble servant of the great Master? What dust and ashes should cover thy head! Humility gives us good foot-hold in prayer. There is no hope of prevalence with God unless we abase ourselves that He may exalt us in due time…It was filial prayer Abba, Father. You will find it a stronghold in the day of trial to plead your adoption. You have no rights as a subject, you have forfeited them by your treason; but nothing can forfeit a child's right to a father's protection. Be not afraid to say, 'My Father, hear my cry'... Observe that it was persevering prayer. He prayed three times. Cease not until you prevail. Continue in prayer, and watch in the same with thanksgiving… Lastly, it was the prayer of resignation. 'Nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt.' Yield, and God yields. Let it be as God wills, and God will determine for the best. Be thou content to leave thy prayer in his hands, who knows when to give, and how to give, and what to give, and what to withhold. So pleading, earnestly, importunately, yet with humility and resignation, thou shalt surely prevail.”

So I continue in prayer and watch with thanksgiving.


I think back on Psalm 100, the scripture that sustained Gracia Burnham's husband at the end as he reminded his wife to serve the Lord with gladness. But this Psalm also has some important truths. God is good. God loves us with a steadfast love. God is faithful to all generations. I will hold to that. I will be grateful for every day without suffering, but when it comes, I will not be surprised. As Charles Spurgeon says, "Christian, expect trouble." I will choose to continually praise and not pick up a hammer of frustration.

Winter of Cards

I saw a cardinal a couple of days ago admiring herself in the sideview mirror of my car. It's a sure sign of spring. The magnolias and crabapple are already in bloom. (In March?) The girls and I packed up sweaters and filled our drawers with t-shirts. But I don't have spring fever. I'm actually grieving over winter leaving us behind. I'm going to miss pots of soup simmering on the stovetop, hot tea after school with weak sunlight warming us at the kitchen table. Fred says no more fires this year. So sad. The winter sewing projects have been completed and evenings of lingering daylight will be spent instead on gardening.

We have become quite the experts at card games this winter. I'm not talking poker or gambling or even traditional games. It started on Arielle's birthday. She got Quiddler, Set, and Dutch Blitz. Then Liana got Five Crowns for her birthday and I recently needed a purchase of a few dollars to give me free shipping on an Amazon order, so I bought Wizard. Oh my! The fun we've had! Each of these games is unique with its own excitement and challenges. But if you've never played Dutch Blitz, go directly to Amazon and get it! It should be marketed as a brain stimulator to keep people sharp into old age. This game is fast and furious and requires you to pay attention and keep track of many things going on all at once. The girls are better players than I am, not surprisingly.

Our newest game Wizard has Fred hooked. Every day he gathers us to play, sometimes even interrupting school! This game moves at a little slower pace but requires some strategy and thought. Arielle caught on immediately and was beating us soundly every time. But we're slowly learning and giving her a challenge now.

The best part is the family time spent together. Maybe we moved to cards instead of board games because they are quicker to play on a busy night and easier to set up and put away. Our games bring out a lot of good-natured teasing and laughter, and since we are all very competitive, we have learned to be good winners and good losers. (How do you think it feels when your little girls win every time?) I hope our daughters will smile years from now as they recall our winter of cards.

I don't think I would want to live in a place with no seasons. Each one brings such joys. But each marks the fast passage of time with all of us growing older by the day. Maybe that's why I don't want winter to end. Life is good. I want to hold on to this time and keep my girls mine. Soon enough they will fly away. But a mom must let go.

First Day of Spring

The doctor said we probably have the flu. This time of year? Still, the warm temperatures and bright sunlight beckoned us to a little walk around the yard. We took pictures and looked for snakes, warmed out of brumation. The pussy willow tree is full of fuzzy buds, fluff drifting down on the newly tilled garden. Hyacinth bloom among the dead leaves of winter. We tried to find beauty in a still green-less world. Friends of ours live in a desert country fall away. They said what they miss most is the green. No trees, no grass, no plants growing anywhere. Imagine. We long for new life to begin.

Prayer

"What is the nature of petitionary prayer? It is in essence rebellion - rebellion against the world in its fallenness, the absolute and undying refusal to accept as normal what is pervasively abnormal...Petitionary prayer only flourishes where there is a two-fold belief: first, that God's name is hallowed too irregularly, His kingdom has come too little, and His will is done too infrequently; second, that God Himself can change this situation."- David Wells

Our family could use some prayer today. How about you?

Wonders in the Sky

Have you looked up lately? One night at church this week on the way to our cars, we all stood gazing at the heavens with mouths open, wondering what those bright lights were. The night sky was clear and the stars glittering, so unusual outside the big city. One light had such a glow I thought it must be a satellite. But then a professor happened to walk by. He knew the answer immediately. The big bright light was Venus and right beside it, a lesser light, but spectacular because it is so far way, was Jupiter! I've never knowingly looked on Jupiter before. Then he told us to turn around and right behind us was a soft red light. He said that was Mars.

So check it out! When we got home we found the planets again and I was more able to orient their positions. It seems Venus is in the southwest, somewhat low on the horizon around 9pm. Jupiter is right next to it. Turn about 180 degrees to your left and you will see Mars, higher in the sky. I don't think the alignment of these planets will occur again anytime soon, so go outside and be amazed!

Liana and I are reading Stowaway by Karen Hesse. It is about Captain Cook's voyage around the world in search of the mysterious southern continent in 1769. It's a fascinating story based on historical documents and journals of the crew members, including a young boy who really was a stowaway. Captain Cook first stopped in Tahiti to study the transit of Venus. This is when Venus passes between the earth and the sun, like an eclipse. It will appear as a black spot on the sun. How they predicted this way back in 1769 is incredible. We are in for a treat this year because the next transit of Venus is on June 5. And the next one after that? December 2117!

The beauty and wonder of the universe always makes me think of this passage in Psalm 8: "O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory above the heavens...when I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him?"

Meeting an Author

Have you read this book? I read it a couple of years ago and highly recommend it. American missionaries Martin and Gracia Burnham were kidnapped in the Philippines by the Abu Sayyaf, a Muslim terrorist group, and held hostage for a year in the jungle. They faced starvation, exhaustion, frequent gun battles, and beheadings. In the end, Gracia's husband Martin was shot and killed during a rescue attempt of the Philippine government.

How do people live as Christians in a situation like that? Gracia is very honest about her shortcomings, but also about how her faith sustained her. Her husband was a constant encouragement to her and the other hostages. He even looked for opportunities to minister to his captors to be an example of Jesus to them. He would remind his wife that Jesus said to love their enemies, and that would include these brutal men. Martin did just that. The last conversation Martin had with Gracia before his death was to quote Psalm 100. "Serve the Lord with gladness," he said. Even in their difficult circumstances.

I was much inspired by this book when I read it, so I was delighted to hear that Gracia Burnham would be speaking at my friend's church. Gracia is an unassuming woman with a great sense of humor--and great faith. She talked about her experiences in the jungle, but more about the aftermath, about forgiving enemies and extending grace to them. Many of the terrorists have since died in gun battles, but some are imprisoned in the Philippines today. Gracia has corresponded with a few of them and some have even read her book. She has forgiven them for the torture she endured and the loss of her husband. It is an amazing story.

I bought a new copy of the book and then realized Gracia was standing among the crowd at the book table. I had the opportunity to meet her. She immediately reached out to hug the girls and me and chatted with us like we were old friends. That's the kind of person she is. Knowing her story, you wouldn't expect someone so, well... ordinary. But she is an ordinary woman called to extraordinary circumstances. And because of that she has become a woman of incredible faith accomplishing great things.

Even though most of us will not be forced at gunpoint to run through a jungle, we may face other serious life trials. Will I serve the Lord with gladness no matter what? What about right now? How do I handle everyday struggles? If I have trouble with the small stuff, what happens when the big stuff comes along? But it is not my strength that matters as long as I trust in God. "Be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might." (Ephesians 6:10)

I just had this thought. Maybe it is precisely the trial that makes us strong, the suffering that strengthens our faith. "He knows the way that I take. When he had tried me, I shall come out as gold." (Job 23:10)

Special Day

On March 4, 2001, I climbed the Great Wall of China and heard the cries of anguish of generations of Chinese who suffered throughout history. Truly, I did. It was a sacred moment that urged me to fall to my knees. The next day, on March 5th, a child whose ancestors lived and died in this vast country was handed over to me grow up in an ordinary family in America.

Our Liana is an all-American girl. She is as much a part of our big family as anyone born into it. Adored by her big brothers, cherished by her parents, challenged by her big sister Arielle--she belongs to us. She is the fun aunt to our little ones. Baby Joseph will soon find that out.

I remember my first glimpse of her in a large government building in Guangzhou, a room filled with wailing babies and new parents attempting to soothe them. We searched the face of every baby who arrived that morning, looking for our baby to match the picture we had. Finally, there she was, wary, eyes narrowed with suspicion and resistance over this new situation. (I still see that look today.) She was quite comfortable in the arms of her caregiver, and she cried continually for hours in protest over being passed to strangers--her mother and her grandma. Her voice was high and sweet (still is) but her fiery temperament was evident from the start.

Today we celebrate the gift of Liana and the privilege of the years we've had to raise her from childhood to the young woman she will soon be. Happy Adoption Day!

February 29th

February was supposed to end on Tuesday, but we were given an extra day. What will we do with it? March is a spring month and February a winter one. So, as I see it, we have one extra day of winter. How will we make the most of it?

As I pondered that question, the day became a wonderful celebration when our family was blessed with an incredible gift! A new baby! A Leap Year baby! Anthony and Kim's son was born this day. His name is Joseph Michael and he is a big, healthy baby. What a crazy mixed-up day it was for everyone. Fred left work in the morning, picked up Arielle, and went to the hospital to encourage and support Anthony, his son. Liana and I could not go due to our illnesses. Everyone waited many long hours. (Aren't birthing and dying usually long and painful? I think of so many hospital vigils with family surrounding a loved one.) Fred would call from time to time to update us and in the background it sounded like a party was going on. I'm sure Kim was not part of this festive mood. Having been in the labor room many times, as a participant and also as a nurse, I know what it's like for the mother. Early on, she made it clear she wanted everyone OUT.

Finally little Joseph arrived and was welcomed by his joyful, celebrating family. Arielle told me someone took a great picture of Grandpa and his first grandson. (I will post it when I get it.)

Week of Illness

It's been a long, long week. Liana and I haven't felt well, but were we sick enough to go to the doctor? I wish I didn't have to make all the health care decisons. After 10 days of a raging sore throat, I finally gave in.

It was an interesting doctor's visit. I always bring a book to read while I wait. The doctor walked in and I started to put my book in my bag. "What are you reading? I'm nosy," she said.


She is German and I was reading Bonhoeffer. She was curious and picked up the book and wanted to know what it was. I told her it was about a German pastor in World War II who was executed for his involvement in a plot to kill Hitler. It explores the question of whether Christians are ever justified to murder someone. I value my doctor's ideas on this topic. Her sister died in the 9/11 attacks. How did she feel when Osama bin Laden was killed? We had an interesting discussion before she even looked down my throat.


Liana was next. She had a cough all week, which she tends to get with every cold. No fever, but she felt lousy and the cough increased until she was coughing almost non-stop. I felt so bad for her because she couldn't get a moment's rest. She kept looking to me for relief. Nothing I tried worked. Every bark of her cough was an indictment against me. Why couldn't I relieve her suffering? This is the very worst part of parenting. With new babies in our family, I think of how the parents will be in anguish as they worry about the many illnesses that come along. Even though my baby is 12, the worry never ends. Just as she looks to me for healing, I look to God and cry out to him. "By his stripes, we are healed." (Isaiah 53) Medicine, doctors, they are just the means he uses to heal. Lord, have mercy on my daughter hacking without relief. Her cries to me are the same as my cries to him.


So Liana saw the doctor on Saturday. Bronchitis. Now we wait for her antibiotic to work. Still she coughs. I give her codeine at night and then worry about the sedation. How much is too much? Liana asks, "Will you check me in the night?" She wants assurance that I am looking out for her, making sure she is okay. Of course, I will. I ask God to look out for her too. I can't be awake all night. But he is. "Where can I go from your Spirit? Or where can I flee from your presence? ...Even the darkness is not dark to you. The night is as bright as the day." (Psalm 139) I need to trust more.

Our faith comes as we remember God's words and his faithfulness to us. Jesus says, "Do not be anxious for anything." He uses the word "anxious" six times in one brief passage in Matthew 6! He knows we are a worrying people, especially when it comes to our children. I remember that "the one who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say to the Lord, 'My refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.'" (Psalm 91)

My number two son and his wife travel to India this week. Will I be anxious? Of course, I am the mother and it is in my nature. We worry about bigger things as our kids grow up. But I will choose to trust God, who has always been faithful to my son.

A Vision and a Prophecy

Maybe a year ago I was in church focusing on the service and in my mind I suddenly had a picture of my son in front of the congregation playing his drums. This was not some mystical vision, but it came to my mind out of nowhere. At the time, Damien was playing drums in a rock band performing in bars.


Just in the last couple of months Damien was asked to play in a new band--in his new church. Amazing! He plays four services on Sundays. We had been trying to arrange a day we could go and see him. Finally it all worked out.


I really wanted to see my son on his drums serving the Lord with his incredible talent. But I had reservations about his church. It sounded like a very young church--young minister, young congregants. I knew it was very casual, very hip, reverberating with loud music and maybe dancing in the aisles? So unlike my church. I really didn't know what to expect. But I figured I could move out of my comfort zone one Sunday and support my son.


We were stopped as we first turned into the parking lot. Two guys waved at us and I rolled down my window. They wanted to know if this was our first visit to the church. The snapped bracelets on us so we could claim the gifts awaiting us inside. Then they directed us to a parking spot. As we entered the building others welcomed us with smiles and handshakes. These friendly folks were totally sincere and genuine; there was no pretense and no agenda. We were offered coffee and a young man told me to come to him personally if I needed anything or had any questions. Maybe my church could learn a thing or two about hospitality. Then a young woman offered me ear plugs. (Uh-oh.)


The service began with music--contemporary music to be sure, but godly music. The lyrics were clear on the screen in front. I did not need ear plugs. No one danced in the aisles. I kept my son in view, up front before the congregation. I saw the joy on his face. When the band played Chris Tomlin's song "Our God" tears filled my eyes. I thought back to a church I attended with my three little boys years ago (no Jon yet), when I was going through hard times. Folding chairs were crammed into an auditorium full of people. I knew no one, but the praise music washed over me, giving me renewed hope. After the service a woman approached me. She had not been sitting near me so I didn't know where she came from. She gestured to Damien and said God had given her words to share with me. She said, "Don't worry about all that's happened. He's going to be just fine. God has great plans for him."


I didn't quite understand. Damien was a tiny boy. But like Jesus' mother Mary, I kept these words and pondered them in my heart. This day, so many years later, I remember those words. Prophecy unfolding. God brought Damien to this place, in this time in his life. Damien says to me, "It's only the beginning." To remind me of this morning, I include the music Damien played. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zlA5IDnpGhc


After the songs we saw a very touching baby dedication ceremony with young families up front, parents praying for their children. Then came a great message through, yes, a very young pastor. We headed out. The church was filling rapidly with a new crowd coming in for the next service. Damien went to get ready to play again.


We left joyful, energized, and thankful. And I didn't feel weird or out of place here. In fact, I felt quite at home. After all, it was in this kind of church, with this kind of young people, where I met Jesus forty years ago--when I was young.