Where am I?

More than a few years ago now, our younger son was a new driver and out on a date with his then girlfriend, now wife.  We were at home in bed, though of course not asleep.  It was nearing the time that he should have been home, and the phone rang.  My husband answered it, only to hear our son's near frantic voice:  "Where am I?"  As it turned out, he was on his way home and a fire truck was blocking his normal route and traffic was redirected, causing him to become disoriented in an unfamiliar neighborhood in downtown Akron.  His father talked him back onto the right roads that would get him safely home.  We've had  tons of laughs over the years at this memory and it's sure to be a funny story passed down through the generations.  

There have been several times in my own life when I've stopped to ask myself the question, "Where am I?"~not because of being lost while out driving late at night, but because circumstances beyond my control sometimes make me feel lost and disoriented.  Roadblocks I never planned on appear out of nowhere, and I'm forced to move in a different direction or to think in a new, better way. 

Most of us like to feel settled in to what becomes comfortable and familiar in our lives.  We like predictability, whether it is knowing a paycheck will be deposited into our account every couple of weeks, seeing our spouse go off to work and come home around the same time every day, or just doing the things we enjoy that become happy traditions for us.

Getting older and feeling it is an unexpected change that can be difficult to wrap our arms around.  The energy we had just a few years ago is gone and we find we don't have the stamina or strength to do many of the things we used to do at the pace we used to do them.  On days like that, I find myself wondering "Where am I?" along the continuum of life ~ will I live to be an old lady telling stories to my great grandchildren from a rocking chair, or am I already almost at the end of my journey here?

Then there are the times I try to take a personal spiritual assessment test.  "Where am I?" in terms of my eternal relationship with God and my relationships with people?  Am I resting in the knowledge that God is "for" me and that whatever might be a surprise to me in life was no surprise to Him and He is weaving this tapestry into something very beautiful? Am I always looking to make and keep peace with friends and family,  so that I can look forward with confidence and back without regrets? 

When my brother got his cancer diagnosis ten months ago, one of the first things he wanted people to understand was that eventually all of us will be thrown an unexpected curve ball in life, and when that day comes, we will need an internal compass to help and guide us through difficult times. 

Friend, don't wait till the turmoil comes.  Jesus said, "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life.  No one comes to the Father but by Me."   God has provided that Compass for us and we don't have to live our lives in fear, despair, or anxiety, no matter where we find ourselves or what our circumstances may be. Even when our world is turned upside down, our heavenly Father will show us the way to go and lead us safely home. 

"Personality is what you are to others..."

Today is my mom's 83rd birthday!  And I want her to know I've not forgotten what she wrote in my autograph book more than 50 years ago:

"Personality is what you are to others, character is what you are."

So often we are judged by our outward appearances...our looks, our style of dress, how much we weigh, how we present ourselves publicly, and so forth.  As a teenager,  one of my close friends told me, "if it wasn't for your hair...you would be...nothing! Really?  I laugh at that memory now.  I know she was trying to compliment me and in an awkward way was saying that I did a pretty good job with my hair style and it was one of my best outward features.  

Sometimes even now friends make comments to me like "you need to get a life" or "you need to get out more often".  When I hear that sort of thing, I just accept that they are making a judgment about an aspect of my personality that they can see outwardly.

My brother Don, who happens to be fighting a very serious form of cancer, updated his blog recently and talks about risking intimacy in relationships. We don't always let the barriers down and allow others to see us up close and personal. Sometimes I hesitate to "show myself" because I don't want to seem like I am trying to draw attention to myself or make it look like I am asking for a pat on the back.  It's often more comfortable just to keep things between me and God.

I also don't like rejection (who DOES?!) and I've lived enough years now to fully know that not everyone will accept me for who I really am, what I have to say, or love me in spite of my best (and often flawed) attempts at communicating.  Still, being misunderstood is painful.

Having said all of the above, I want to share a couple things that gave me a lot of personal joy yesterday.  My hubby and I took a couple of hours to pick up donated casseroles, soups, and cookies from our church and deliver them to an inner city ministry.  We had opportunity to chat with the house mom and a young girl doing some community service as part of her legal obligation.  After that, we stopped at a local restaurant and picked up some food which we delivered to a friend who is staying day and night at the children's hospital with her special needs son who was admitted with breathing problems, and her 2 month old nursing daughter.  Her other two children are with their grandmother.  My friend isn't married and can't work, so finances are very limited and she simply could not afford to buy meals at the hospital.  

I haven't stopped to analyze why yesterday was so meaningful to me personally or why I felt such joy in serving others.  But if I had to guess, I would say it is probably because in spite of our own job uncertainty and my brother's health crisis, and a few other things going on that keep me on my knees, I realized again how very blessed I have been in so many ways.  There's just something about getting close enough to the real life situations of others that makes you realize you don't have it so bad, in spite of frustrating or even agonizing circumstances.  

So I want to say "thank you Mom!" for instilling in me very early on that character development is far more important than any of the things that people see about my personality.  

"...for man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart." I Samuel 16:7

Sacred moments...

It's only 6:15 in the morning and I've been up for almost two hours now.  In the quiet and solitude I have been taking down Christmas.  This is the task I always dread...not because of the work involved, but because it is such an emotional time for me.  Of course I will need and welcome my hubby's help to carry the boxes to the basement, drag the tree down the steps, and remove the wreaths from the windows.  But taking the hundreds of ornaments off the tree (yes, hundreds) is something I almost always do by myself.  

I love the Christmas season.  All of it.  I love what we celebrate, the greatest moment in all of history when God came to dwell among us.  I love the story that will never grow old.  I hate putting all the stuff away that brings back so many precious memories of Christmas past.  Because it's not really the "stuff"...it's the relationships that the stuff represents.  God came to live and die as one of us to show us how to have an intimate relationship with Him. Relationships are important.

My ornaments aren't valuable in terms of their retail worth.  Many of them are hand made.  A few are pretty old and have sentimental value.  But all of them hold a memory of a special time or of a person or a place.  For 35 years now I've been accumulating ornaments and tenderly packing them away at the end of each season.  I don't mean to have so many! But it just happens.  The oldest one was my dad's favorite.  He first hung it on the tree the year I was born.  Then there's the plaster ornaments I painted for each of our boys for their respective first Christmases; the stuffed ornaments I sewed years ago; special ornaments friends and family have given me over the years; Ornaments my kids made when they were little...and now ornaments my grandchildren have made.  

These are sacred moments for me.  A quiet time where no one except God knows my inward thoughts.  Only He really understands why this is so emotional for me.  I don't understand it myself.  I always cry.  My mind always goes back in time to remember people who were once a part of my life and aren't any longer...to former times and places that have helped to shape who I am today.  Maybe that's it...These ornaments help tell a story...my story...my life.  It's a story of generations too. Four generations of our family are represented here.  This really isn't about stuff...it's about people.  People whose lives have in some way intertwined with mine.  I am so blessed.

Life Interrupted...

My world has been knocked off its axis.  No, it isn't about the ongoing unemployment.  That's just been a little bump in the road.  We've been down that road before, and eventually it will smooth out.  There are options we haven't even begun to explore.  Something will come together and we will survive unemployment one way or another.

A few weeks ago Bob and I were enjoying dinner at Olive Garden with my brother and his wife.  They were treating us in celebration of our 35th wedding anniversary.  Don winced every now and then...his back was still bothering him and physical therapy wasn't helping.  He was disappointed because he had hoped to be training for his 12th marathon. At age 59, he was the picture of health and vitality.  He had been running for fitness and stress relief  for decades.  But this new pain in his back was bringing all that to a screeching halt, and he was having all kinds of scans and tests run to see what was going on.

One night he ended up having to go to the ER, the pain was so great he felt he couldn't move.  He was admitted to the hospital for more tests and morphine.  A few days later he sent us a text message late at night.  "got the test results.  news not so good."  As my husband read the details to me, I was at first stunned and then angry.  I wanted to start throwing things.  I felt sick to my stomach.  I thought I was having a nightmare and I just wanted to wake up to my normal life again...life as it had been before this news.

I'd heard of multiple myeloma before. Our grandmother died from it 40 years ago.  It is an incurable blood cancer that settles in the bones.  It is very rare, representing only about 1% of all cancers.  And just a few years ago I had done a little research on the internet when I had a small tumor removed from my inner elbow area.  Mine was not malignant but I was curious as to the symptoms of multiple myeloma.  That was when I found out that in spite of many new experimental drugs, radiation and chemotherapy, not much progress has been made in finding a cure or in survival rates. Still, the doctors are saying this cancer is "very treatable".  So we hope.

In my brother's case, a tumor was found on his L5 vertebrae, and had in fact crushed it, causing the severe pain he is experiencing.  More scans, more tests...  The good news so far being the cancer has not metastasized in any other bones.   Chemotherapy begins in just a few days.

As I sat before my brother yesterday while he rested on the hospital bed that has been set up in their family room, he held both of my hands for a long time.  He is taking a liquid morphine every 2 hours so he faded in and out as we talked.  He wanted to tell me about the good things he sees happening already as a result of his suffering.  "God stories" as he calls them.  His faith is strong.  He is determined not to "waste his cancer".

We don't know where this road is leading.  It's not a journey any of us would choose to travel.  Only God knows the end from the beginning and the number of our days.  In spite of the shock, the pain, and the uncertainty, as individuals and as a family we will choose to say "Blessed be the name of the Lord."  And we would so appreciate your prayers for healing, for strength, for faith to remain strong through the storm.  Thank you friends.  I know you will.

 Don Lichi 

Sept. 2011

Everyday life...

Little drops of water,

Little grains of sand,

Make the mighty ocean

And the pleasant land.

So the little moments,

Humble though they be,

Make the mighty ages

Of Eternity.

So the little errors

Lead the soul away

From the paths of virtue

Far in sin to stray.

Little deeds of kindness,

Little words of love,

Help to make earth happy,

Like the Heaven above.

In 1845, Julia Fletcher Carney wrote this poem, titled "Little Things".  It ended up in the McGuffey Reader and probably was learned by millions of American school children in the early classrooms.  My mom wrote it out for me from her memory when I was about 11 or 12 years old, and I've never forgotten it either.

Sometimes this is how I feel about my own life.  I think just about everyone has a need to feel like they are part of a bigger picture and are a piece of a puzzle that comes together to be something beautiful and meaningful.  And just like we don't "see" an entire ocean when we look at a single raindrop, we understand the principle that eventually enough raindrops do form an ocean.

When one gets to the age where they realize they have already lived more years than they have yet to live, there is often some evaluating and reassessing that goes on.  Things that used to mean so much no longer drive or control us.  I can remember a time back in high school days that I kept on my calendar a record of every outfit I wore so I would not wear the same exact thing twice in a month's time.  Looking back, I have no idea how I pulled that off because as the oldest of 7 children, it's not like I had that many clothes.  I must have done a lot of "borrowing" from my three sisters!  Now I have what I call a couple of "uniforms" ~ a few outfits that pretty much work for me and I wear them over and over and I'm happy with that.

In looking over my calendar for the past week, it does seem like the essence of my life has been made up of a lot of "little" things.  I've had opportunity to reach out to a pregnant mom who has her plate more than full, and passed on some used baby equipment.  I did some cooking for a local inner city ministry that helps women come out of a life of drugs and prostitution, and I organized a small group of women at my church who did the same thing.  My daughter-in-law fractured and sprained her foot recently, and so I've been doing a little extra cooking, cleaning, babysitting, and taxiing for her.  Yesterday while at the grocery store, an 83 year old lady stopped me to ask my opinion about a product, and we ended up having a pleasant chat for five or six minutes.  I sorted and distributed bags of used baby clothing to 5 different young moms, three of whom were total strangers.  And I baked dozens of cookies for the funeral lunch of a local firefighter, also a stranger.

I'm not saying any of this because I keep track of my good deeds or because I am patting myself on the back. Because to be honest with you, I have often been told by well-meaning friends that I don't "have a life"! When people say that, I understand that they mean I'm doing so many things for other people that I don't have time to do whatever it is they think I should be doing with my time.  I prefer to say "this IS my life!"  

 I do take note of that third verse of the poem, however.  In spite of all my good intentions, I'm still a sinner saved by grace, and believe me, I have my share of little errors that seek to lead me away from the paths of virtue and Godly living.  Funny how she stuck that right into the rest of the poem, which is all about the humble little things we do with our lives that have positive eternal consequences.  Food for thought.

What about you? What are the little drops of water and little grains of sand in your life that make a mighty ocean and a pleasant land?  What little deeds of kindness or little words of love have you done or spoken lately to make someone else's life a little more pleasant?

"Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ."  Galatians 6:2

One Big Fish Story...

Along with 14 million other Americans, we're still dealing with the reality of unemployment around here.  This is our third round in the last nine years, and in all honesty, it's been the hardest emotionally and psychologically. Financially we are still surviving ~ it's been almost four months so far.  Obviously we can't go on forever without an income, but for now we are ok.  

The first time it happened and lived through it I told many people "we survived but we'd never make it a second time."  Not exactly a statement of faith or thankfulness, was it? When it happened the second time, I said, "Lord, I was just KIDDING!" And again, our needs were met and we survived.  When it happened again this year, I admit I've been pretty stunned.  The previous two times set us back financially right at the time of life where we are supposed to be thinking of saving for our retirement years.  With the economy in the dire shape it's in, it has been a whole new ball game for my hubby trying to maneuver his way through the job search process. Companies are thread bare with the employees they have, yet they are reluctant to invest in additional staff because of the dismal world-wide economic forecasts.  

And so we wait.  We wait on the Lord for His provision.  We seek to discern His wisdom and direction.  We work.  Hubby treats every day as if it were a normal work day.  He gets dressed and into his office early in the morning and stays there until quit time.  He researches, he tweeks his resume, he answers ads, he takes tests, he networks, he applies for positions, and the next day he gets up and does it all over again.  So far, the net has caught no real fish.

Last night I read a familiar Bible story that has given me strength for today.  It is found in Luke chapter 5.  Peter, James, and John, a couple of career fishermen who lived 2000 years ago, were doing what they always did.  They worked all night long in the cold and dark from their fishing boats, casting their nets but they kept coming up empty.  No doubt discouragement set in.  They were already cleaning up their equipment at the end of a fruitless time of labor.  But Jesus had His eye on them.  He told them to go out into the deeper water and let their nets down.  Peter answered him, saying, "Master we've worked hard all night and haven't caught anything.  But because you say so I will let down the nets."  

We all know the rest of the story.  The fishing nets were so full they were breaking.  Peter had to signal his partners to come and help him.  And then it hit him.  This man Jesus was more than a teacher.  He was one who could perform a miracle in his time of discouragement and need.  In fact, Peter was so astonished that he said, "Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!"  He realized that he was small and sinful compared to this big and mighty God-man.

I don't know what the outcome will be of our present frustration, and yes anxiety of our time of not knowing where our next paycheck will come from.  But this I do know:  Our story will end well.  This same fisherman Peter turned fisher-of-men Peter, wrote these words of hope: 

 "Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!  In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade.  This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God's power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time." I Peter 1:3-5

Did you catch that? Because of our merciful God we have a living hope and an inheritance that can never be taken away.  Until then, we are shielded by God's power.  We do know how our story will end, and it is all good.  It's sort of like watching a movie that gets scary and makes your heart beat faster at times...but you know the story ends well,  so you can go ahead and endure, even enjoy watching it.  

Said another way:  "Therefore we do not lose heart.  Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."  II Corinthians 4:16-18

Giving Myself a Break...

I've been talking about my need for white space (margin) in my life.  I've been doing a little better.  Part of the  need for margin is so we have time in our lives to rest or to be creative or to do things that are relaxing so we can restore body and soul.  Sometimes that means just giving ourselves permission to do what is pleasurable for ourselves. Everyone is different as to what form that might take.

Some of the things I miss when I allow myself to get too busied out with everyday life  are reading for pleasure, thrift store shopping, primping my house up, playing in my kitchen, and writing.  This past week I've done a little of all of these things.  In the process, I've regained a little of my sense of humor too.  That's a good thing.

Hubby and I took time out for a real date last Friday night.  After a nice steak dinner, we had the afterglow at our local Borders where I found the book of my dreams:

I've been having a lot of fun reading this book. Not only is it humorous, but I'm learning some good hints on how to dress to maximize what I have to work with.  Back when I had more time, I used to enjoy watching the TV show What Not to Wear with Stacy London and Clinton Kelley.  (I don't even know what channel it's on anymore.)  But instead of a $5000 shopping spree in New York City's best clothing stores, I headed on over to my favorite Salvation Army thrift shop yesterday and tried following the rules for my body shape.  I purchased four tops with V-necks and 3/4 sleeves similar to this Talbot's for $3 each:

While I was thrifting, I found a few other items.  I usually don't try to "bargain" at the thrift stores, but this time I did some "negotiating" just for the thrill of it~not at the Salvation Army store, but at another local thrift shop. This small wooden table, which I plan to use beside my chair in the family room, had a price tag of $7, and I was able to acquire it for merely $5.  All I need to do is cover the green paint with some barn red that we've used elsewhere in our kitchen.  I talked the store owner into giving me the blue painted frame for $1 instead of the $3 on the price tag, pointing out it was "just" a frame.  I plan to make a hair bow holder for my granddaughter as seen here.  The mug was unbeatable at 84 cents, a discount off the 99 cent price tag.  The mug is a Currier & Ives "The Homestead in Winter" design.  A friend had given me one for Christmas and so now hubby and I can drink hot chocolate next winter in matching mugs.  (After all, it's only 257 days till Christmas.)

Recently I was taken aback when visiting in a friend's home.  I noticed she had a bowl full of pretty Easter eggs sitting on her table.  I mean I temporarily became totally disoriented. (Remember I still have my Christmas cards in a basket on MY end table.)  Eventually I realized it is only two weeks 'till Easter and if I'm going to have any decorations out, I better get started.  So I dug out this wooden bunny that I had thrifted for a couple years ago, found these eggs and grass in a drawer and put it together in this cute basket I picked up yesterday for 49 cents.  (There, you can see the barn red paint I will use on the little table I just bought.)  Today I will change out the wreath on my front door for the one I made last spring, and I will hunt down the arrangement of daisys for my kitchen table. That will probably be the extent of my springtime decorating this year, but it will do.

As part of my "getting a grip" campaign, I finally got a much needed hair cut.  I've had trouble getting the cut I wanted and the last trip to the beauty shop was such a disaster, I let it grow out to be way too unmanageable. Hubby insisted on taking a photo this time for future reference.  It's still a little too short in places, but the general idea is there and I'm OK with it.

(An Ann Taylor thrifted V-neck)

In times of stress, I usually run to Jan Karon's novels.  She takes me into another world and I fantasize about living in a place like Mitford. Cynthia and Father Tim model for me the way I want to relate to people, with kindness and devotion.  Jan Karon's most recent book is on loan to me and I'm making time to read a little each day.

And to prove that I am regaining my sense of humor, I need to tell you a few family secrets.  Being Italian and all, we eat pasta of one kind or another frequently around here.  I try to have dinner ready when hubby walks in the door  when my priorities are not misplaced  as a rule.  Since he wears an ironed dress shirt to work, I've been making him take it off before he sits down to eat spaghetti sauce.  For a long time I've been saying that someone should make us some "adult" bibs.  Well, here they are:

When we were in South Carolina recently, my daughter-in-law handed these to me.  "You know how you're always saying you should have some adult bibs for when you eat spaghetti?  Well, a friend of mine makes these for the nursing home..."  We had a good laugh, and by golly, we've been using these things. They really make perfect sense!  (You ARE laughing, aren't you???)

But WAIT!  There's MORE!  Unbeknownst  to Ellie, I had already commissioned my cousin to make a custom spaghetti bib for hubby for his birthday last week.  She went all out, even making buttons out of clay that are plates of spaghetti & meatballs.  The "bow tie" is a napkin, and the little pocket holds wet naps. Along with the bib, hubby got a homemade spaghetti & meatball dinner.  You need to know that he is still speaking to me!

Our small group met this past Sunday evening, and I brought these "polka dot" cupcakes as a treat to honor Bob's birthday. They are really easy to make and taste so much better than a boxed mix.  (To find the recipe, you'll have to scroll through the post in the link, but you'll get there.)

So, you can see I've been doing some things I enjoy, and at a reasonable pace.  I've even had a couple of the grandkids over one-at-a-time and just for a couple of hours, because they too bring me much joy.

I hope you've enjoyed catching up with me, and I'm also in the process of catching up with MY blog reading.  I so appreciate the friendships and connections I've made through this amazing technology!  I don't take you for granted, gentle readers!  Are you preparing your hearts for a blessed Easter, friends?  In the midst of any chaos we may have going on in our lives, the words of Jesus still ring true...

"I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved.  They will come in and go out, and find pasture.  The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full."  John 10:9-10 NIV

More stuff between the buns...

"You only have two or three weeks to live."  These are essentially the words the daughter of my mom's long time friend said to her mother this week.  My mom's friend will be 93 years old next month.  She is totally in her right mind, but her body has been failing her for a while now.  Recent tests showed that her blood count was dangerously low, indicating she was probably bleeding internally.  The doctor told her daughter she needed to be hospitalized and receive blood transfusions.  Can you imagine sitting your elderly mother down and telling her the choice was go to the hospital or you will die within a few weeks?  There were some tears, but the choice was made.  She's ready to go home to Jesus and has wanted to for some time now.  Of course she is torn, not wanting to leave her family, but she knows where she is going and she is weary.  My mom and a few other close friends, the "brown baggers" as they call themselves,  gathered with her the other day for lunch and some card games, then they prayed together.  I've been weepy, thinking about this scene.  Yet in some ways, isn't it really a wonderful blessing to know your time is almost at hand, and to be surrounded with the love of family and friends to bid a temporary farewell?  

*****

By contrast, we are anxiously waiting for our 5th and 6th grandbabies to arrive toward the end of this month.  A little boy is due to be born in SC around the 23rd, and a little girl is scheduled to make her appearance via C-Section here in Ohio on the 30th.  I can hardly wait to cradle these new lives in my arms and look into their eyes.  What joy and excitement new babies bring to families who are already full of such love for them!

*****

Yesterday, a babysitting day for me,  was also picture day for my five year old granddaughter at her Pre-School.  She arrived at my house before 8 in the morning, bubbling with excitement.  She'd already had her shower and hair washed.  She brought a darling outfit to wear, and couldn't wait to start primping.  She painted her toenails, fingernails, sprayed herself with strawberry scented cologne, and applied clear lip gloss.  I attempted to "curl" her Asian hair ("don't forget my bow, Grandma) and finally it was time to get dressed.  Oh my, what will prom day be like?

*****

I took my mother-in-law to her first follow up doctor's appointment since her fall and hospitalization.  I unnecessarily lost a little sleep the night before, worrying about how things would go.  She didn't want to ride in my car because she was afraid it would be too difficult to get into.  I didn't want to drive her car because I never have before, and was uncomfortable at the thought.  There were several other minor "issues" that had potential for making the morning challenging.  But as we know, prayer changes things! Grace abounded and everything went really well.  She agreed to "try" to get into my car and I agreed to drive hers if we needed to (we didn't).  We actually had several meaningful conversations.  At one point, while I was carrying all her stuff as she pushed her walker, she noticed my wedding band and remarked at how similar it was to hers.  Now I've been married to her only child for almost 35 years and I did think it rather odd she was just noticing that...but hey...The best news was that her 85 year old pelvic bones were healing themselves right on schedule.  Is that not amazing?  We see another doctor tomorrow, but I'm not going to be anxious about it.  Things are going well.

*****

My Christian psychologist-brother, Dr. Don Lichi,  is having his first book published very soon.  I'm honored that he sent me the final draft and asked me to proofread it, along with a few other pairs of eyes.  This reading is only for any potential glaring errors, as the publisher is just about ready to go.  I'm very excited for him, and I'll give you more details at the appropriate time.  I believe this is a very important book and I can't wait to get my autographed copy.  It is titled, Broken Windows of the Soul and is about sexual addictions.  Don co-authored it with one of his former pastors.

*****

I'm participating in some Lenten disciplines that I hope will help me to focus on more holy living in the coming days.  I'm also working on some ministry-related things that I'll tell you about soon.  This is enough about me for today~~What's going on with you?

just life-between-the-buns as usual...

Tomorrow will mark 3 weeks since my mother-in-law had her fall.  We got her settled back into her condo last Wednesday evening.  (We only had to wait 1 1/2 hours beyond the appointed discharge time until the hospital could send a person capable of pushing her wheel chair from her room to the hospital door.)  She's still in pain but navigating carefully with a walker.  I don't know if I've ever mentioned that my mom lives in the same seniors building.  So in a lot of ways it's   interesting  convenient.  We are grateful that the pelvic fracture wasn't worse, as in "dislocated" ... but it's still going to take another couple months to heal.

In the meantime, I'm looking forward to  my Joanna's maternity leave.  She is scheduled for a C-Section on March 30, but as we know, babies make their appearance in God's time, not ours...so we shall see.  It makes it hard to plan a short trip to South Carolina, where my other daughter-in-law, Ellie, is looking at a due date of March 23!

For now, I'm trying to take one day at a time, and longing for spring.  I've eaten way too much comfort food this winter and I need to get outside and get my body moving again.  I'm almost in despair, wondering if I will ever see decent fresh produce in the markets again. Obviously we aren't getting anything locally grown and I'm just plain tired of pale, mushy tomatoes, blueberries that go moldy after two days in my fridge, and limp lettuces.

I did make a yummy dish the other day which I'm sure many of you are familiar with~creamy chicken enchiladas.  I actually toyed with two different recipes, and then added a few ideas of my own.  This makes enough for two casseroles, so either divide it in half, or make two and put one in the freezer for later or to give away.  Let me know if you try it!

3-4 medium to large chicken breasts, cooked and chopped

16 oz. light sour cream

1 26 oz can cream of chicken soup

16 oz. shredded cheddar cheese

approx. 14 regular size flour tortillas

1 1/2 Tbsp. chili powder

chopped green onions or onion powder to taste

2 Tbsp. chopped fresh cilantro or 1 Tbsp. dried cilantro

a few drops of Tabasco sauce to taste 

1 15 oz. can black beans, drained

1 small jar salsa

Method:

*Bring to boil large pan of water and drop chicken in.  Cover and turn heat off.  Poach chicken about 15 minutes.  Remove from water and let cool.  Chop.

*In large pan, combine chicken, and half of the sour cream, half of the chicken soup, and half of the cheese.  Add beans, salsa, and seasonings.  Combine all with wooden spoon.

*In separate bowl, combine remaining sour cream and soup and set aside. (You can add a little Tabasco and/or chili powder to this also)

*fill tortillas, roll, and place seam side up in baking dish, touching each other.  When dish is full,

cover with soup/sour cream mixture, and top with remaining cheddar cheese. Cover with foil.

*Bake at 350℉ for 40 minutes.

Note:  This recipe will fill two casserole dishes.  Bake one, freeze one if you are not cooking for a crowd!

When serving, garnish side of plate with shredded lettuce, dollop of sour cream, sliced black olives, chopped fresh tomato, and tortilla chips.

Here's a simple and inexpensive craft I did with the kids last week.  They want to hang them on the wall in my "children's bedroom" so I will also purchase a "D" and an "O" for my other two grands, Deacon and Owen.  They can paint them next time they are in Ohio.  Can't have any sibling  cousin rivalry now, can we?  It will be a while till the two new babies will be ready to paint, but I'll buy letters for them too as soon as we know their names!  I think they will look real cute hanging on the walls in "their" room.

This is the paint we use for crafts.  I can find them for about 50 cents a bottle, and I squirt a little of each color they want to use onto a paper plate.  The sponge brushes are economical too, as well as inexpensive brushes.  While they were at it, they found a few other things to paint...

Hubby and I have also been busy helping to promote our church's theme for the year: "Do Justice, Love Mercy, Walk Humbly" (From Micah 6:8).  We have started blogging for the local outreach ministries our church supports to help raise awareness of needs to be filled and ways that people can become engaged in serving.

As part of the Local Outreach team, we are getting to know the various ministries first hand by visiting them, interviewing people who are already engaged, and by serving in small ways ourselves.

So that's been my life for the past couple of weeks..what have you been up to while waiting for this long winter to be over?

Have you lost your life?

Sometimes my life can get incredibly busy, like lately.  A little over a week ago, I was picking up some meals donated by a sweet lady from my church to be delivered to a local outreach ministry.  Though the temperature was near zero, the sun was out.  Due to some unexpected cicumstances, I got home earlier than I thought I would,  and I was relishing the idea of a little "free" time.  That was when I noticed the blinking light on the answering machine.

My mother-in-law, almost 85, had taken a fall and was in the ER.  After a couple quick phone calls, I was out the door again.  By the time I got back home many hours later, the roast beef I had in the oven, even though on "time bake" was pretty much inedible.  

The next two days were spent babysitting two of my grands, and the evenings were spent at the hospital.  My hubby is an "only" so we are "it".  On Friday, a "day off",  I had previously scheduled to do some things with my mom, who no longer can drive because of her macular degeneration.  It was also our younger son's birthday and we had promised to keep the grands overnight so my son and daughter-in-law could have a date night.  That extended half-way into Saturday, so hubby went to see his mom without me.  We had planned to celebrate Valentine's Day by going out to dinner and to a movie that night and we did keep our date!  Sunday was another visit to the hospital, and a previous obligation to serve at our church in the evening.  It was a "Night Out" for younger married couples, and our small group had volunteered to help with child-care.  Our assignment was to help entertain about 5o Kindergarteners and First Graders for 1 1/2 hours!  I hit the ground running again on Monday as the grands arrived before 8 am, did my 9 hours, and when hubby got home at 9:40 pm, I surprised him with supper in bed and a few other things you can read about at the tail end of  THIS post.  Tuesday, my day "off", I went back to the hospital and then did my grocery shopping.  Yesterday I babysat again all day, then back to the hospital last night.  The grands should arrive here again at any minute.  I'm making a meal today for a friend who had surgery on Monday, and I still have a writing assignment to polish up for my writer's group on Saturday morning, a surprise birthday party Saturday night, and a wedding shower to attend on Sunday.  Someone from the hospital wants to meet with us this weekend to discuss my mother-in-law's situation.  

I'm frequently told by family and friends that I don't "have a life".  Really?  My response to them is "this IS my life!"  It's not exactly the life I thought I would have when I was old enough to collect Social Security, but here I am, and I'm making the most of it.  Every day is a gift and I never want to take it for granted.  I want to look forward with confidence and back without regrets.  I want to run the last lap the best.  My house isn't as clean or as organized as I wish it was.  My energy level isn't where it used to be.  But my moments and my days are blessed with a sweetness that money can't buy.  Just yesterday I "caught" my 5 year old granddaughter about to blow out the candle I had burning in the bathroom.  I watched as she paused, then gently and carefully put the flame out.  I asked her if she made a wish.  "Yes Grandma!"  I asked her what she wished for.  "I wished that you will love me forever!"  Priceless.

The 79 year old lady who shares the hospital room with my mother-in-law had her leg amputated last week.  She's going home today to face her life with many unexpected adjustments to make.  I've had a couple of conversations with her, and I'm amazed at her attitude.  She has accepted what life has dealt her.  We talked about the importance of living each day to the fullest because we do not know what tomorrow might bring us, though none of it is a surprise to God.

In spite of busyness, my life in the sandwich generation offers many opportunities for teachable moments and also for preaching the gospel, with or without words.  I woke up this morning with a scripture passage on my mind, one that helps me get through my busy days, or any days for that matter.  

"...Jesus said to his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.  For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it.  What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul? Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul? For the Son of Man is going to come in his Father’s glory with his angels, and then he will reward each person according to what he has done."  Matthew 26:24-27 NIV

Have you lost your life?

My age is showing...

For my writer's group assignment this week, I was given the prompt "gone". That could take me any number of places in my cluttered brain, but I decided to just spout off a little. I feel like I'm standing alone on an issue and maybe someone out there can just help me understand!

Because I feel like something is definitely missing these days. Like a sense of propriety.

When I told my psychologist-brother what's been bugging me, his response was "your age is definitely showing"! I put a status on Facebook last week on the subject which drew pretty much the same kind of response.

So what IS it? OK, simply stated: I just don't GET the need for pajamas in public. A week or so ago I was at Panara, for example. In walk three teenaged girls with who appeared to be a mother. The three were all dressed in flannel pj's and fluffy slippers. Beside the point is the fact that we were experiencing near-zero temperatures, snow and ice. I can't even imagine walking to my mailbox in slippers of any description. (Do they wear these same slippers around their homes after they have been trudged through dirty snow in parking lots?)

Then last week, my granddaughter's Christian Pre-School featured "pajama day". All the little boys and girls were to wear their favorite pj's, bring their blankeys and stuffed animals, and watch a movie together. This happened exactly one day after she and I had our first "purity" discussion which was hard enough to do on a 5 year old's level. We talked about things like modesty in public...

Now before everyone pounces on me about the innocence and fun of pajama parties for children, please understand I am ALL about children having fun. Anyone who knows me in the slightest knows I put my heart and soul into all kinds of fun activities for the littles in my charge, and even neighbor kids. I used to love going to slumber parties at a girl friend's house when I was young. And it was all girls and in a home, and closely supervised I might add. We had a screened front porch on our house, and we used to love to have sleepovers there in the summer. The boys and girls took turns.

I'm just wondering why we need to blur the lines of what is for public consumption and what, in my humble, old-fashioned opinion, should remain in the privacy of one's home. I did some checking and other private Christian schools in the area also participate in the current fad of having children (and in the case of my granddaughter's Pre-School, teachers too) wear their nightclothes to school. I know it is done in the public schools as well. I guess I naively thought that there might be a slightly higher standard imposed at a Christian school, or ANY private school for that matter. I mean, SOMEONE is paying for this kind of "education".

There are so many areas in our society-at-large where lines have been blurred, especially in the morality department. I'm not going to take the time to list the examples that are going through my mind right now. So does this start in Pre-School? Common sense might ask that question. And where does it end?

Our local zoo frequently sponsors overnight events where the kids are invited to sleepover in their pajamas...with strangers. I just saw an article where a local breast cancer awareness group had a "pink pajama party". Borders offers Polar Express pajama parties for the public. I'm serious, I just don't GET IT.

I'm not against pajama parties. My hubby and I had a pajama party last night. It was Valentine's Day and he was doing some ministry at the church, helping people in employment transitions, after a long work day of his own. I knew it would be very late when he got home and he would be exhausted. So I decided to surprise him. I cleaned our bedroom up, lit a bunch of candles, filled the soaking tub, set out clean jammies and towels, gave him supper in bed, complete with wine and chocolates. He loved it. I in my flannel nightgown and he in his flannel pj's, snuggled up on a long winter's night. It was wonderful. Just the two of us relaxing together. Just the way it should be. And no, there are no photos.

Awake my soul and smell the coffee...

I think it started about the time I turned 50 years of age. I really didn’t “feel” as old as the over-the-hill jokes that came my way implied I should. But I did the math and by no stretch of the imagination could I any longer consider myself “middle-aged”. I don’t personally know anyone who has turned 100 years old, though I know there are a few out there.

But, I certainly did not consider myself as “elderly” either. So what WAS I anyway? Or rather, WHERE was I on this timeline called life? While no one is guaranteed the number of years they will live on this earth, I decided to mentally divide up the years of life into quarters. In order for this to work, I had to make an assumption on the length of my life. So I picked 80 years. After all, the Bible says in Psalm 90:10:

“The length of our days is seventy years-

or eighty, if we have the strength...”

It will be noted that by choosing 80 years as my life span that I made another assumption too: that I would be one of the “strong” ones. If I’m granted any more years than 80, I would just consider it a plus. That’s where assumption number three comes into play. My grandparents and my parents have lived past the octogenarian mark. Surely I will too.

Next I decided to name the four quarters of life by using the names of the seasons. Up to age 20 would be called spring; 21 to 40 would be summer; 41 to 60 would be the autumn season; and 61 to 80 would be the winter of life. The term “elderly” would only apply to those past 80 who could no longer get around and live an active life. My only relative that met this criteria was my grandmother, and that was in her 93rd year.

All this kind of thinking took place about a dozen years ago. During the years since, thankfully I have become less preoccupied with trying to put my life on a timeline and figuring out where I might be. Instead, I have come to understand this with certainty: no matter how many years I might have left on this planet, they surely were fewer than the number of years I have already lived. And so I have been busy trying to live them to the fullest.

The shift in thinking was subtle, but very real. Somewhere along the way I have gained an increasing awareness that life is short no matter how long one might live, and that I wanted to major in the majors.

A lot has happened in my life since the year I turned 50. My kids grew up, went to college, got married, had kids of their own, and now have their own mortgages. My father died, my mother was declared legally blind, and I became a part-time care-giver for her and for a couple of my grandchildren. My empty nest doesn’t seem the least bit empty, I still get up early to make breakfast and see my husband off to work, and my car racks up as many miles as it did when I was a taxi driver for the kids. I’m playing with a life long dream by doing a little writing here and there, and I’m tending to my spiritual life daily. I have peace with God and make time to serve Him by serving others.

Some of my friends don’t approve of my lifestyle. Many of them think I should be living more for myself, whatever that means. Actually in many ways I am living more for myself...I’m doing the things that matter to me the most, even though my energy level obviously can’t compete with what it used to be.

I was talking to an older pastor’s wife a couple of years ago, and her advice was to “run the last lap the best”. And that is what I want to do. I want to live each day intentionally and with the full knowledge that every day is a gift. I want to keep a short account of offenses. I want to leave some kind of legacy that will matter to someone. I can’t assume anything about when my life on earth might end, except that it is inevitable that someday it will. And by my own definition, I am in the winter of my life. I’m OK with that.