'Tis the season' and more reasons ~2013

Christmas Tidings of Great Joy!
2013, December

Today, after church services, it was snowing!! and is the first snowfall of the winter of 2013 and I am pretty sure not the last. ( although last winter had a pretty poor showing in the snowy mix category.) 

 Speaking of last Christmas, let's just get all pleasantries out of the way and say that God is amazing. I am not referring only to His gift of Jesus Christ to be born, live among men, then die and return to heaven...just for us to have our sins atoned for. Nope, I am also referring to His work in my own personal life on an intimate, personal level.

 My life has been rather 'out there' for all of my friends and family to know-no secrets or ghosts in my closet-just a bunch of outdated clothes and old fashioned things to discard.( a work in progress ) 

After praying almost daily for my former beloved husband's return and restoration to the family, I was able to see God work in a way that was surprisingly simple, last Christmas.

 As I drove to Charleston, SC to spend last Christmas holidays with Paul, Allison, Isabel , Ava and Luke, David flew into Philadelphia, by way of Charleston and New Mexico, and reappeared on the horizon. I have not seen or spoken to him, but I prayed fervently and often for the children to be restored to their father in some way, and that has been happening. Nothing takes away bitterness or anger better than loving someone enough to pray for their life to be blessed and a blessing.

 Should you be a praying person, believing as I do that God does all things well and redeems the broken places in His own way and time, thank Him with me and pray as I do , that God Himself would be glorified in this family still.

Interestingly, (to me anyway), in today's message at church , a statement made, simple yet profound.

“Man cannot reach out and be good enough for God, God must reach out to us. This is the Advent season - God reaching out to us to come to Him..” 

Do you feel relieved hearing that? Those nasty thoughts , deeds, conversations, lost tempers, cruel remarks...do not change that God loves me. He loves me. He answers my heart cries, silent yearnings, quiet longings. Ah, thanks be to God. I love the Christ of Christmas.

If you want to know, this is what a lizard says.

The children are grown, the year has been quiet , without extraordinary and filled with ordinary. I love the ordinary blessings of Skype letting me see my Theodore grow , fulfilling the prayers of His people for life and health and normalcy. Rachel is currently in a play, returning to her passion for acting, and playing with Theodore too, as Aric and she enjoy the West way too much to want to return East. As any normal mother of far away children....I am praying. (wink, wink)

 The ordinary occurrence of my sister Paula, in remission from cancer(not so ordinary but rather a gift from God) and spending a week together in Ocean City NJ in the Spring. This was one of my unexpected  fun times, even though it snowed at the Beach!

 

 

I am ever so thankful that another ordinary , extraordinary joy was driving to Charleston SC to share firstborn Paul's 40^th birthday -together eating in a less than extraordinary Brazilian restaurant and seeing my 3 sweet Southern grandbabies twice in one year!

 Isabel, Ava, and Luke, swimming in the ocean in October and learning to ride a 2 wheeler! Such normal every day fun to share in.

  It was also an ordinary week if it included phone calls and drop in visits from Julie , Adam and Ethan who live only a mile away. Ethan's family found quite a cute Puggle named Watson to love this year, and it looks like their cuddly Thomas the bunny now has a brother. 

Adam and Julie both work in the financial fields, so my future should be secure (another wink, wink).

 Margie , Joel and their 5 children [Eliot is 12!, Simon, Jesse, Nora and Bianca] had an ordinary year until July when they sold their home and moved within about the same number of weeks that it was blocks from their old place in Kennett Square, PA.! Seeing God work out those details was another gift of personal blessing amongst seemingly random circumstances. God loves my children, and I thank Him. Their home is often the one we gravitate to for family gatherings, and I thank God for Margie's gift of hostessing with calm.

 The Becca and Steve family of four are thriving, even as they utilize the skills God gifted them with in transforming their very old home to a home that will someday need to be featured in a Renovator's Magazine – poor Martha Stewart has met her match. Aidan and Evelyn cannot possibly be in school all day, it was merely the blink of an eye ago when they were born! Steve graduated from taking some pretty tough courses in school while he pounded nails and cleaned out the pool we all swam in this summer- I am thanking God for giving Steve perseverance, and Steve just wants a buck this week hunting! :-)

 We loved the pool at the Lacock's home! and many excuses to visit when the weather was HOT, found us gathering there.

 Joshua, my crazy 'NJ Devils or die' hockey fan, with a side love of all thing shark related, is enjoying a solid career at UPS, and will not take responsibility for your late Christmas packages! He lives in Philly in a neighborhood he won't let me visit because of the gang activity- you imagine for yourself how this mom prays!

And then there is Andrew who is a quarter of a century in age ,with life experiences worth at least double that. Praying for him to secure a job has been one of those requests I need to trust God with, all the while hoping it takes shorter time than those 12 years I prayed for David. :-) Andy will always be my baby but his beautiful CAM , pit bull baby , may drive me crazy with his large presence. 

I know that as my kids grow and change and develop their own lives and families, I am no longer an integral part of the process. In my head I am fully aware of the need to back away and let God and them work out 'stuff'. But seriously, I wish there was a pill to take that gave that an easy slide down to my heart strings. It pains me to watch, and pushes my faith to the limits of where I think God wants me walking. I am not, nor ever was, a risk taker. Watching the Amazing Race on television truly terrifies me-especially some of those bungee jumps! How can I compete in this Amazing Race of life after my children have grown up and need me no more? My job helps and is a constant blessing; my friends are all fumbling toward the finish line with me, and yet, somehow, we are strengthened by each other. When a friend says “I get it” there is more comfort than I ever imagined.

   

There is no way I could tell you in this annual letter just how blessed I am . I know what grace is because I am given it day by day, minute by minute. I have NO doubt that next year this letter may include extraordinary drama and pain again, for that is why we need a Savior. I am, however , preparing myself now for those days by encouraging YOU in these better ones. 

Stay tuned, and have a very Merry Christmas, because Jesus loves you, this I KNOW.

Where Did Thanksgiving Go?

Recently a young friend of mine posted a blog on another young mom's Facebook page about Thanksgiving. I was curious , so read it. The discussion at hand was the need for table decorations on the Thanksgiving tables, by using sarcasm, witty comments, crude remarks and pictures. Admittedly, my bias toward the article is showing. Nary a word of God's Bounty was stuck in, even between the lines.

Black Friday is also about to become a thing of the past- the opening of stores for shoppers on the Friday after Thanksgiving for the Christmas spending spree that all retailers are hoping will happen. This year there has been an upsurge of stores opening ON Thanksgiving Day so that shoppers can eat, cram their faces with food, and head for the stores to beat the rush. I fear heart attacks may occur since that amount of food cannot possible digest properly before the adrenalin rush of bargain hunting begins.

In a related event, I have been trying to figure out what the holidays are actually supposed to look like from my perspective. I am an older woman who has no extra money available for food purchasing, has several children all engaged in their own family dynamics and growth, and whose dining room became a reading room after the 6th child left home. Seventh child remains bolted into the basement here, with his large dog, but that might be a conversation for another holiday, not including the word Thanks in its name.

My fondest memories of earlier times and Thanksgivings with my family of origin include specific foods more than table decorations, as well as times for turkey basting carefully regulated to match the return of deer hunters from the forest. My dad had scoped out where the deer would most likely be on his way to work every morning for weeks ahead of this event, and off he went each Thanksgiving morning, one of his only days off from work at his job. We knew he would hunt until he shot a buck, or be back around 4:00 pm when darkness crept into the daylight hours.

Smells of turkey and stuffing , carelessly filling the center cavity of the bird filled the entire house. Carelessly is not a misprint either- apparently my mom and grandmother and generations before them had no knowledge of the dangers of placing the stuffing inside the Bird for Thanksgiving flavors to blend. Chopping those onions, celery and bread cubes took up most of the morning, and the word Stovetop meant something entirely different than it does today.

When mom wanted to get 'fancy' I recall a cranberry relish she would make, chopping up oranges and nuts and cooking fresh cranberries to just the right texture as she waited for the meal to come together perfectly. Green bean casserole, of course, but always accompanied by pearl onions in a cream sauce or baby sliced carrots in a buttery glaze. Mashed potatoes, not from a box but from a huge paper bag of potatoes, stored in the basement for keeping in a dark spot so the eyes did not grow on them, were only whipped with the hand beater just before serving.  Gravy? Who made gravy like my grandma and mom? I think I may have it down pretty good now, but it took years for me to even dare try, and that was in rebellion of pouring it from a glass jar.

Mom's legacy of baking several pies is one I hope will continue, although it isn't looking like I inherited that particular gene. Sister Janet bakes a pie every week, and I am insanely jealous when I hear the sisters have gone and had pie and coffee on a Sunday afternoon with mom in Tennessee! I remember pumpkin, mincemeat and apple with a slice of cheddar cheese next to it.

I started this scribbling selection this morning before work, and now my steam is gone. I even forget what I was going to rant about, and I am sure this is a good thing! However, I do want to rant about God's love for me.

My budget is something that is not cool to talk about in most circles, and yet it is what it is. I work as much as I can on a job provided by God at a job I love and am well suited to. I pay most bills on time and have little left for silliness, but that too is fine. The upcoming holidays ahead can be stressful, even the simplest thing like buying extra food causes stress, let alone gifts for those precious grands I adore!

This morning I was in a mood, checked the books and had no food money. It's ok because I do have refried beans to last a lifetime(they were on sale and nobody doesn't hoard sale beans), and tortillas are cheap, albeit not that tasty. I just talked to God quite honestly and told Him I was not that happy with the current situation but would attempt a thankful heart at Thanksgiving because He knew if anyone did, how MUCH He had given me. I had my doubts as to attitude, however, and so I came home and opened the mail.

First an envelope from a collection agency saying my $42. was overdue so they would cancel my card. I am disputing this unknown bill Monday morning. Really? An overdue notice on the day I was already down? That was NOT the happiest piece of proof of God's love for me.

Then a Thanksgiving card from my sister, and a Food Lion gift card enclosed for $100. fell out. I wept. She is not any wealthier than I, she knew NOTHING of my struggle, and God used her generosity to prove, once again, that He loves me deeply. Seriously, it is not because of the turkey and all the trimmings I will buy tomorrow with great joy, but because He cared for me that I weep. He cared and He showed me He cared. He always cares, He loves me so well.

Thanksgiving cannot be taken from me. I refuse to stop thanking the One Who gives it all away, even His own Son(Christmas is coming!!) so that we can live abundantly, bountifully, joyfully, and have stuffing and mashed potatoes-two starches! in the same meal. :-) Oh, and my table decorations?  Here it is:

Eat your heart out Pottery barn.

June 22: simply Thankful for Teddy

Last year, I can readily now admit to anyone who asks, there was a day that held such intense emotions within a 24 hour period that I was sure the human heart could not continue beating from the intensity. Fourth daughter, in labor and me en route to the grand event , second sister selling her home and beginning a new life phase, all of us dining in a very fancy Italian restaurant to celebrate. Excitement, everywhere.

The phone call came when we were least expecting it. I recall the waiter asking politely for our drink orders, me excusing myself to take the phone call that would herald the birth of my 12th grandchild,great-grandmother(my mom) barely able to contain her delight. The voice on the other end threw me off, not my daughter, but her friend, explaining that I needed to get on an airplane and come immediately. So I did.

Such a simple sentence to write, that last one. So I did. I smile writing it, amused that on the surface it is so benign, free of emotion and importance, three words on a piece of paper (except I do not think typing into a computer makes anyone able to even use that phrase anymore).

So I did. I am terrified of flying , as some would recall. I am a strict planner, always near my datebook, and definitely one who knows what her days will hold ahead of the arrival of those days.

Within 3 hours I was on an airplane, flying in terror for what would lie ahead, and definitely what would lie beneath if this airplane didn't stay in the air. So, as any frequently fearful flyer knows, I distracted myself with prayer and journaling.

The entry from my journal reads in part:
My grandson, Lord God, was born today.
 Please Father God, save his little brain, save his little body and his little lungs and his little heart and his little hands and his little feet and his little toes and his little internal organs and most importantly, Lord...his little soul.
If this sounds like begging, you would have correctly analyzed the situation from my heart's perspective. It felt necessary to beg for something so important.        So I did.

At his point in the journey of my body and soul, I recall the pilot interrupting my prayer(the official term used when one begs God for mercy and grace in the 35,000 feet off the ground range) and announcing that we were  at a 'comfortable cruising altitude'.  OH Really???!!!??

This thought occurring to me as I am writing, isn't that how we usually lead our lives? Day to day, bopping along, expecting breathing to happen, friends to smile when they pass , family to be there where we think they should be, airplanes to stay above ground, babies to arrive safely after labor, grandmothers to live another day, pets to annoyingly meow when we wake in the morning. Yup. Comfortably cruising through life, that's us.

Then we hit a bump. Bumps aren't bad if we are walking, but if we are cruising 35,000 feet above ground? a little more dicey. Baby born and maybe not going to live? Dicey stuff for the comfortable cruising mentality.

There in the air, 35,000 feet above the earth, terrified, I made a renewed decision within my heart. God and I have had these conversations before...believe you me. We go way back. However it seems that I get comfortable cruising through my life fairly often and we have to have another heart to heart. I decided it was a package deal between God and me. I would trust Him for the airplane ride, because I already trusted Him for my soul in eternity, and I clearly trusted Him for the providence that even got me ON the airplane within 6 hours of Teddy's birth. I already trusted Him for the care and keeping of my 7 children, their spouses and those 11 other grandchildren He was lending me to love, so why not trust Him for the rest? So I did.

I read Psalm 139.
Where can I go from your Spirit? or where can I flee from Your presence? I ascend into heaven , You are there. If I make my bed in hell, You are there. If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there Your Hand shall lead me, and Your right hand shall hold me. if I say; surely the darkness will fall upon me' even the night will be light around me. Indeed the darkness will not hide me from You, the the night shines as the day, the darkness and the light are both alike to you.

Keep reading, said God. So I did.

For You formed Theodore's inward parts, You covered him in Rachel's womb. I will praise You, for he is fearfully and wonderfully made! Marvelous are Your works, and that , my Grammy's soul KNOWS full well. His frame is not now, or ever will be hidden from You, when he was made in secret and skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Your eyes saw his substance being yet unformed and unborn...and in Your book, Oh God, they were all written, the days fashioned for him, when as yet, there were none of them.

Search me, this Grammy of Theodore, Oh GOD, and know my fearful heart(you already do) Try me.again. and know my anxieties, see of there is a wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.

So He did.

Thank you God, with equal intensity as I begged last year, perhaps more. Thank you that on June 26 his little fingers curled around mine and cemented my love for him firmly and forever. Thank You God for Teddy. Happy Birthday never felt so good to say.

Never Deleted

My mind is like a computer, as has often been said to little people when they are watching TV. "Your mind is like a computer, what goes in stays there...be careful what you watch."

I guess we forgot about the delete button.

On a computer you can delete the entire item you have just written, talked about, blogged or even Facebook posted. You can even lose something entirely just by blinking, as evidenced by the number of times I have written a blog and lost it. Or an email that is of lengthy proportions...off to cyberspace it flies.

There are several thoughts rambling around in my brain these days and frankly I am tired of them. With my passel of kids and grands there is always something of that genre in the brain pockets, but there are also church issues, work issues, television shows I am waiting to see results of(I watch The Voice :-) ) and then the regular stuff of life, like eavesdropping.

I eavesdropped (ok, where does THAT word have it's origin?!?) yesterday on a conversation between 4 young parents on the virtues of making children make their own beds in the morning. It was a fascinating listen, really, as never before had I even considered that this topic was an optional choice in parenting! No, seriously, we need to discuss the idea as if we were choosing a dinner menu? wow. I am equal parts amazed and astounded. Amazed that parents do not instinctively know that teaching children to care for their own beds, bedrooms, toys and messes builds character, and astounded that there was hesitancy even when faced with the suggestion.

My children , and even my nephews from Brasil who lived with us awhile, know that I was one of the old fashioned variety of mothers who raised her kids to get themselves out of bed on time, then make their own beds as they readied for the day. It became habitual but first was mandatory. Guess I figured it was the parent's job to set the standards and role models. My bed was made every day before I began other tasks, why shouldn't theirs be done?  God said He wanted all things done decently and in order, so that was my standard. My mother before me, also added on the task of changing your sheets on Saturday mornings before 10:00 am, so my kids actually had it easy.

Funny thing is, after they all became adults, I am not real sure the teachings of their youth stuck, or if secret rebellion reigns and they all have messy beds, dirty sheets, dishes in their sinks, and laundry waiting to be folded.... I wonder?

I did an experiment yesterday, by the way. I left my bed unmade all day for the first time in 63 years. Completely out of my comfort zone, and when I went to bed last night I had to make it first, Furthermore, it reminded me to change my sheets this morning since mom would have been disappointed in how long it's been....

Good, I can delete this entire thought process from  my brain now, because for me that is what Blogging really is-my delete button. It is never really gone, just located in another location, somewhere with no attachment to the mind.

Delete.
Are you sure you want to trash this?
Yes, quite sure, my kids are grown.
Thank you, God.

Images of Easter

The images of Easter, known to many Christians as Resurrection Sunday, are plentiful. Just sitting at my computer thinking about Jesus Christ and His death on Good Friday so many years ago, and His Resurrection and eternal life now, is a sobering process in my mind. I think about my different friends and how they do or do not celebrate this friend Jesus, of mine. I scan through the pictures on this laptop and am astounded at how so many different photos represent where my thoughts often drift.

 This church,  seen as my mom and I drove across the Midwest last summer, is one of so many I snap with my camera while driving or walking around. The general public still revere a church and are often found in it's services only on Easter Sunday and Christmas. There is a mystical, spiritual  feeling of being in the house of God on such occasions. Kind of an insurance policy of sorts for people who do not want to place all their bets on the Christ thing, but do not also want to discard completely the thought that He may actually BE.

Another ragingly popular image at Easter is the Bunny. Meet Thomas, a member of the family, who has no clue he somehow plays into the upcoming Easter festivities with increasing popularity and love. He hops round delivering Easter baskets full of candy and gifts to good little boys and girls. He has become the Santa of the Spring season ! Albeit a cute idea, my mind does get rather panic struck that this image is the only one some of my special little friends will ever know.

Every child's favorite Easter activity!  Along with the Bunny and the candy and the Great Hunt, small children are thrilled to go hunt for for their treats, decorate their cookies, and dye their eggs.

These images can be spiritualized, as almost anything can be, but are certainly prettier than the blood of the Cross and the messy Crucifixion that reality dictated.

Lest we leave the animal kingdom without adequate representation...the birds. I love nests and birds as much as the next crazy lady, but this image of Easter is a far cry from the Cross. I imagine somehow, as I ponder, that the birds of Calvary were silent as Jesus slowly died on His Cross. Maybe they protested from nearby branches in their loud boisterous ways as the hammers pounded the nails into His palms, trying to chirp over the crowds cheering.

Then there are Easter flowers! I wanted a picture of an elegant Easter lily, but since my mind can only handle momentary processing before I get distracted, I opted for floral representation being imperfect. This then reminds me of my imperfections. I want to be a lily, but am so often just a dandelion. Jesus made me and loves me as I am, so perhaps to Him I am an orchid  :-) !

 Have you heard the story of the dogwood flower? I know it is connected to the Cross, and I know for some it is a spiritual message, but sadly, the reason I cannot speak of it is because my memory lapses more quickly than it's flowers wilt, so I'll leave the story to someone else. Now if it were in Scripture, I could go look it up, but I am fairly certain from my recent readings that it is not.

 Ah, a rainbow~~ the Easter reminder of the faithfulness of God!! He is alive! He will return as He promised!! The rainbow began so many years ago as God promised never to flood this earth again, and He set it as a promise to His faithfulness. I choose this image as a pretty awesome one.  Even last night there was a comedian using Christ's return to earth as a joke line and I cringed in disbelief that he could dare joke about our Holy God Who designed this planet. I fear for his audacity and foolishness.

 Newborn babies are such a simple, significant  joy of Spring and Easter! Do you think Mary's baby Jesus  maybe looked like this as He was swaddled in His little dusty, hay smelling swaddling cloths? Do you think she feared for His little life in her inexperience and youth, never realizing that His death would be crucial to her own salvation someday? Do you think she, young and eager to nurse this first  Child of hers, would be able to imagine the Tomb He lay in some 33 years later?

 It is not a Tomb, but  merely represents what the Tomb may have looked like on that Good Friday long ago. A completely different type of swaddling cloth was used for Jesus as He lay buried for 3 days, awaiting His Resurrection.

 The heavens! How they seem to show the glory of God and our Hope for eternity! Another less common image of the Easter season might be these clouds and skies I saw last week while visiting the ocean. I stopped and stared they were so magnificent, and then snapped my picture to cement this glorious thought in my brain: heaven is real and more beautiful than any skies on earth. Easter, the fact that Christ actually beat death because of His love for me, His very Being of Goodness. No words left but thank you Lord.

really perfect shell.

So. Clearly one will say when viewing the above image, Sue you have lost your marbles(or sea glass pictured below perhaps?) on this Easter image

How does a little sea shell down by the sea shore have anything to do with Easter?? 

There's a back story that should be shared here, so grab a cup of coffee and keep reading. 

My children at various stages of their lives have caused me much joy, and hand in hand there is the sorrow- like two friends walking along the beach on a sunny day . This particular day at the Beach in OCNJ, I was looking for shells but all were very  broken and spread sparsely in my path. As I walked along,one of my children called from home and began sharing of their saga of life that had the potential to discourage me as a mom. 

[Details spared to protect the guilty.]

I hung up the phone and cried out to God, my heart filled with fear -in- the- making- of- my- mind, and sadness. I looked down and I kid you not, there sat this perfect shell staring up at me. Where did it come from amongst the broken and shattered shells?  I seriously even looked around to see if it was a reality TV show placing it in my path! :-) Ok, I watch too much tv.

Symbolism for me personally this Easter season: If God can keep this tiny little beautiful shell from being smashed in this massive ocean as it pounds the shoreline with waves...He most certainly can care lovingly for my child who He has given me to love and care for while on this earth. He loves them too. He died on that old rugged cross for them individually should they choose to trust Him. 

nothing but cool.

 Finally. The end of my thoughts on Good Friday.....there are these little people whom God has given me to love, cherish, and adore. Twelve and counting. Grandchildren beyond grand. Some came and shared the beach with me this week, some could not.  Easter is Not about bunnies nor birds nor baskets nor babies nor buds . Easter is the celebration of the Resurrection of the man called Jesus Christ, Who IS worthy of teaching these precious babies of, Who died for them on Good Friday and left that grave, by the power of God, and I will use every breath I have to share this truth with them whenever I can.

You see, Grammy doesn't lie.

Sink or Swim ? or Paddle and Pray?

The water is beyond cold and the waves are ridiculously high with violent storms making the normally well-loved sea a frightening place to be. It is particularly difficult to love the ocean when your life boat is filling with water and all you can hear are cries of friends as they try to bail their own water out, patch their own holes.

We are all trying to escape from the mighty suction action that soon will take place as our normally grand ship bellows and heaves it's mighty self deep into the sea. How do we help each other? What does it matter that we love each other passionately and want to be self sacrificing? How can we hear the cries of our best friends when our own cries drown out the sounds because of the loudness of our own? We are all going down!

It was such a short time ago that we laughed and danced and ate on fine china, crystal glasses clinking as we toasted the good life. The sun shone brightly,our children played hop scotch on the upper deck as we bathed in the spotlight of frivolity and fun. Some of our group were more daring than others, jumping into the deep waters of the pools, drinking of the exotic beverages offered, enjoying even the silliness of life for a short time with no work nor cares to worry about. We were friends, we stuck together, and we were on a great trip. All was good, we had pretty much figured life out, we stayed connected and traveled in sync with each other.

Who knew the Titanic could sink?

Who could predict an iceberg was lying in wait, barely scratching the surface of the waters ahead, and upon closer inspection hiding a monstrously multi-faceted chunk of destruction deep below?
Shouldn't we have suspected something bigger lay in the days ahead as we sailed the spacious seas of life? An occasional shark,a passing whale, a storm with waves slapping the sides of the ship - nothing prepared us for the constant battering of the Storm that matched any Hurricane that had ever been documented.

We wanted to count on each other for help, but it was impossible- it became every man for himself! Paddle hard , pray harder, or perish.

My story has a Hope filled ending. The end is not here, however.

This is a story of a modern day Pilgrim progressing on her journey. The boat I sail in is battered, but I am definitely in the lifeboat and not the ship I started out on. I am bailing, praying, looking to the skies for a sign of the rainbow as the rain pounds down.
The waves smash on and the boats I see around me are filled with friends battling sharks and sunburn, dehydration and exhaustion. All of us can occasionally see each other and wave, but sometimes even a wave takes too much energy. Certainly there are no opportunities for helping each other, the battle is too strong just to survive. The storm is relentless . Often I get a great night's rest, I pass a boat that shares some tasty morsel of food, and from time to time the shore is sighted. Ah, a quick glimpse of the shore gives such Hope! especially when we see a friend arrive, waving vigorously as an encouragement.

I surrounded myself with good, strong friendships throughout my adult life, and still do consider myself blessed with a great group of friends. We supported each other, exchanged babysitting, recipes, and parenting tips. We laughed together and cried together and supported each other through crisis after crisis, all the while reminding each other of the love and Sovereignty of the God of the seas.

These same friends and others cannot save me. They cannot always fix my troubles nor listen to my sea stories. They can and do pray as they paddle, but I need Someone to paddle with me, to keep me safe and focused.

I find myself very thankful lately that I know One Who helps me and I now Him personally. I do not need my friends in my boat with me as I once imagined.

I just need Jesus. 

He steers  the boat, bails it out, patches the holes, fights off the sharks, gives me water to prevent dehydration, shields me from the hot sun, and keeps me company~ all the while encouraging me to keep paddling.

 I love Him.

The Right to Life Discussion continues

Last Sunday was Right to Life Sunday, or Pro-Life Sunday , or Let's remember Roe V Wade Sunday, depending on your pleasure of names.

January 22, 1973: I was just pregnant with our baby firstborn son Paul, conceiving him in love with my precious and much loved husband David.
This was the date that the Supreme Court said that a woman could end a pregnancy anytime she wanted to.

 It was shocking to me, as a young mom-to-be, that women would want to end, terminate, or discard, what I considered to be a huge gift from God, a blessing that was unspeakably joyous. I theoretically understood there might be mixed feelings about pregnancy if there had been a rape, or incest, or financial woes, but theory did not dictate actions and my underlying thoughts were solidly based on God's creation in the womb of a little person that He desired to be here.

Fast Forward: Forty years later, I have been gifted by God with 5 live births, 1 spontaneous abortion [aka miscarriage], and 3 adopted children, one of whom died at 9 months of age on February 1, 1984. I have fostered 5 babies as their mothers decided whether to keep them or give them to another family to raise; I have almost adopted a boy from Brasil, and been disappointed numerous times that my heart and circumstances did not match the availability of a child.

Who am I , that has such a strong feeling of the nurturing need for caring for children, dominating my heart and mind, even today? Our church supports Happy Children's Home in Kenya, Africa, and every time I see those sweet children I long to adopt them! It is not difficult for me to love children, as evidenced by my real affection for my little people at school who are current recipients of my love.

I have some friends who adopted 3 sisters from Russia, and I am privileged to be their adopted Grammy. These girls know I have chosen to love them , in spite of no biological , rational reason to do so. I celebrate them as little persons of great importance in the eyes of God, and love being included in their birthdays and special days.

I was reflecting on Sunday over the arguments I have heard regarding abortions rights, the woman's right to choose actions over her own body. I am astounded still at the very thought that this is a woman's private choice! Recently there was a television program and they had an intervention for a woman taking drugs. She was not being allowed to harm her body by using drugs and family all surrounded her and insisted she get help and support. Think about it.

Imagine if we had interventions for women who found themselves pregnant and needing to face the scary thought of raising an unwanted child? Imagine if we offered to adopt that child, buy the diapers and help the new mom learn to parent? Imagine if we cared more for the baby than the politics involved? Imagine how many lives would be made happier by those little sweet babies people think they have no time for? Imagine.

I am not a super woman, I am just me. We can make a difference in lives if we just keep stretching. Stretching is uncomfortable, and scary, not always attractive. Stretching might mean adopting rather than going on vacations to exotic places...uncomfortable. Adopting might mean 2 children share a bedroom and learn to share the parents...unusual. Adopting may mean leaving behind the notions of biological supremacy...and entering cultural diversity up close and personal....scary.

In a Facebook note this morning, my friend spoke of the pain and confusion following a child's leaving her home, one whom she thought would be staying.  I felt the pain with her, I heard the heart cries of her heart, and I prayed for God's comfort as she grieves the loss. But I will always be convinced that her loving this child, for this moment in time, was part of God's Divine Design. Since He is a personal, loving God, He accomplished His purposes and she was part of the plan.

These are the thoughts that are circulating in my head today, as my grown children are all living their lives, raising their children, thinking their thoughts that differ from mine. Was it worth it? Not having fancy exotic vacations?

 I am honestly able to say that through the pain(oh there has been so much pain!), and through the years, I would not have changed one single action. Or perhaps I would have.... ....adopting a child as an older, single mother. :-)   Do I dare?

My Annual Review

Having a bad memory is not fun. You would think that I would get used to it, but actually it annoys me even more today than it did yesterday. Or, more accurately, it annoys me more this year than last year. I cannot even recall 2011, and yet something important must have happened! Life is full of blessings and burdens, good times and crummy times, joy and sorrow, laughter and sobbing.


I write a Christmas Newsletter for the explicit purpose of making myself review what God has done for me, sometimes even through me, and often in spite of me. He is a good God, needs nothing to exist and yet chose to love a people for Himself, and gain glory for Himself by giving them dates and times and calendar years to keep track of it all.

One of my favorite gifts this year combined my need for keeping track of time with my love of pictures, and my adoration of the blessing of my grands. It was a picture filled 2013 calendar and it is extra special as I know how much work went into making it! God ultimately blesses me by giving me this luxury of time tracking, yet He didn't need to. He is apart from time, timeless, if you will, and remembers all of us, each tear and guffaw of laughter uttered from our individual lips., and should He need a date, He could recall it instantly. I love that God is bigger than I can think or imagine! I love that some days He lets me think and ponder and wonder at His majesty, and He still remains more. More than I can imagine, better than I can dream, more Sovereign and special than my heart can propose or suppose.

This last summer, in the delightful month of June, when my 12th grandson was born~ I was called to immediately fly from Tennessee, where I was leisurely celebrating my sister's New Home purchase and end of chemotherapy and joy of remission, to step onto an airplane.
I hate flying. I not only hate flying, but I am terrified of flying. I am not only terrified of flying, I have a phobia, irrational and especially incapacitating when I am given the option of thinking about airplanes. I even avoid airports and when a plane flies overhead I am known to duck , or look anywhere but up. Yup, full blown terror.

The reason I was called to do such an act of bravery, was because of the birth of my new grandson Theodore. He was, as anyone having read my Christmas letter knows,  born and overcame a terrific birth scare in part because of God's gracious disposing of grace toward him(and us). The brain therapy cooling cap used was a modern day miraculous device, and a truly amazing piece of research development and technology!

Back to my flight. Booked within an hour, paid for by Theodore's gracious great grandmother, transported to the airport by my New Home owning celebratory cancer- free sister.  Some would call this exciting and wonderful, the chance to arrive within hours when previously scheduled to drive for days. I called it Horrific. I was terrified beyond belief. Imagine, my newborn grandson at death's door, literally having just arrived on earth, and me convinced that this  airplane was my ticket to eternity at every bump, jostle and jolt?

Remembering quite clearly now: me begging God for calm, asking Him for peace, pleading with Him for mercy, reminding Him how much we needed this baby boy to live? assuring Him I trusted His choices and decisions. Forcing myself to chant "Susan, you choose here either FEAR or FAITH. There is and was and never will be an 'in between'." I chose faith. Not because of a guaranteed results, either with the flight or with the baby, but because of the Pilot Physician I was talking to. God. Jehovah Jirah. Redeeming Savior. Wonderful Counselor . Prince of Peace. Comforter. I Am. The One Who made me and sustained me through so many places already on my life journey. I chose to trust Him again on June 22, 2012 in the skies about 30,000 feet from the ground.

My annual review is what I call this post. I sometimes get scared on New Year's Day as I anticipate what might lie ahead. Reviewing the past year is my way of remembering the one thing I DO remember: God is with me. God loves me. God will walk with me no matter where this journey takes me in 2013. It is as easy as it is difficult. FAITH.

Welcome 2013.