New Photos of the Old Me

Andree Seu Peterson has the same problem with her newest picture, that I have with mine – they reveal change – and changes we aren’t so crazy about revealing.  (The New Photos) It was a timely reflection, given my recent high school reunion. I came across three photos that testify that not only are gray hairs victorious in my formerly colored head of hair – but gravity and girth are more obvious than I wish -- but hey – if you enjoy eating a little too much, and dread exercising – spread happens.

The first photo is fifty years old – that’s half a century in other words. I thought I was overweight. The next photo is thirty years old – I knew I was plump. The last one – I see I am quite substantial.   

I thought I’d never get to graduation from high school --  It’s true what Robert Southey observed: Live as long as you may, the first twenty years are the longest half of your life. ~  The Doctor .  (Note in this book, you will find dear reader, the first story of the Three Bears)

The second twenty years of my life, when I woke up in my forties – my age in the second photo – zoomed by. Who knew so much could be packed into so little time?   The most recent score, though, broke the sound barrier! Who is this woman in the last picture?

I don’t feel older than I did at 18 – except when I try to stand up to quickly from a seated position. So, looking in a mirror longer than to see  if I’m decent isn’t a good use of time.  A quick glance at reality, and I can replace my self-awareness with . . . other images.  I may not see myself as that bright-eyed brunette – but somewhere between the strawberry blonde and the gray-haired granny.

Ironically, the keepsake 50th reunion coffee mug faded as fast as the current memory of my real reflection in the mirror.  It was inscribed with a maroon emblem, and the occasion – 1964-2014. But apparently, my dishwasher, which doesn’t always get the dirty dishes clean, washed off the burgundy crest and date.  That’s convenient.

 

Sigh
·      The truth is: I still have a full deck; I just shuffle slower now. ~Author Unknown

·      The comfort is: It's sad to grow old, but nice to ripen. ~Brigitte Bardot

·      And my prayer for thee and me is: Some people, no matter how old they get, never lose their beauty — they merely move it from their faces into their hearts. ~Max Buxbaum

Remembering to Breathe

We are enjoying unseasonably cool weather in Maryland. The tornado-like storms that preceded our arrival by one-hour cooled and dried the typically muggy conditions that define a July day in Maryland. The wonder is that for as foul as the weather was, our flight was quite smooth – and one hour late. Had we been on time – well, who knows?

Cool dry air is a mood elevator. So, too, is coming in range of Berger cookies, blue crabs, family and friends. Not in that order, of course.

Berger Display at Grauls

Our vacation abode is as haunted in warm weather as it was over the Christmas holidays. Looking out across a lawn sloping to Spa Creek, I see wonderful shadows of lovely memories of the best people in the world! I also see my own insensitivity to how blessed, abounding, and irreplaceable the times were that we shared.

How much brighter this joy and peace seems in light of the news from Ukraine, Israel and Gaza, and our southern borders.  Yet, those enchanting memories happened amidst news I found convenient to ignore.    

“Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? 

—every, every minute?”

(“Our Town” by Thornton Wilder)

Is it just my age and stage that makes the here and now scarier?

Perhaps I'm old and tired, but 

I always think that the chances of finding out what really is going on are so absurdly remote that the only thing to do 

is to say hang the sense of it and just keep yourself occupied.

~Douglas Adams

 

What Really Matters

Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
Guide me safely through the night,
Wake me with the morning light.
If I should live another day,
I pray the Lord to guide my way.
Amen

                                                     **

Breath of heaven
Hold me together
Be forever near me
Breath of heaven
Breath of heaven
Lighten my darkness
Pour over me your holiness
For you are holy
Breath of heaven

(Lyrics by Amy Grant)

Sailing Lessons

A Family Wedding

Out of the hundred or so guests, I only knew a handful of folks. The bride is a great niece, literally and descriptively.  So, of course I knew my nephew and his wife and their youngest daughter. Our son and daughter-in-law and our daughter and her husband came; so did my brother and his wife. And I recognized a few faces from many, many years ago.

Melancholy and joy, happiness and regrets, wonder and gratitude – memories of other weddings and prayers for the future of marriages represented colored all the impressions I took in.  This day became an unexpected Ebenezer. (1 Samuel 7:12)

My niece,  (a more a possessive description than our relationship ever was), and her husband exchanged vows and celebrated their marriage at a comfortable old country club in northern Baltimore County.  And because Maryland’s spring is about three or four weeks behind Texas’ we beheld dogwoods, daffodils, and azaleas – nature’s delightful rewind of the most hopeful of seasons.

A shower had threatened earlier, but the sun dried up its remnants, and a rainbow emerged at the time friends were toasting the bride and groom – prompting guests to scurry outside and record the event on the innumerable smart phones and cameras. One younger guest asked his dad if they could go and hunt the gold. My nephew confided he had to get a second mortgage just for that display.

Candles may have been on the table, but the glow of our hand-held devices was truly what illuminated us!  The wedding photographer waited good-naturedly for us to look up so she take pictures of us. Never have I seen so many photographers – or have have I been so torn to put my camera down and look at the faces before me.

Serendipitously, a few days later, a You Tube video rebuked me:

 

Put your hands on your head – stand away from the phone

Stop watching . . . Live Life the Real Way!    

I am glad I did put my phone down – occasionally -- and enjoyed so many moments. But I am also glad for the pictures I took. Most I deleted – but the ones I kept remind me the Lord has been good to me.  For the brief moment this wedding was, I saw the top part of my life’s canvas, and, from what I often feel is a jumble of threads, I saw an outworking – a purpose -- that has been bigger than my will.

 God! I hope I remember that!

Genesis 9:13

Today is Extra Terrestrial Abduction Day.

Here’s a link: Extra Terrestrial Abduction Day.  One of the simple pleasures I enjoy in Texas is a radio station that plays classical music and works hard for have DJ’s and programming that appeals to a wide audience. So, in addition to hearing and learning about music, I learn stuff I never knew. (Classical Music)

 

And spring arrived at 7:31 A.M. Spring is nature’s way of saying “Hey, Let’s party.” (Robin Williams)

That oak tree across the street is getting dressed: it has a gold/green haze that popped out in what seemed like one day – the drey, or squirrel’s nest -- is less distinct against the morning sky. And in an email meditation, I read

When one tugs at a single thing in nature, he finds it attached to the rest of the world.
--- John Muir

I look out the window and see beauty I had no hand in creating – I am listening to music whose sounds delight and whose origin are another human’s gifts. Balance, order, and purpose in what I see and hear – until the news breaks through.  And I learn of troubles that are assailing people – troubles I didn’t cause, and can’t control or cure.  It seems like chaos. So, today’s electronic message counsels:

Even in the face of day-to-day uncertainties, we are reassured by the order and symmetry of the universe.  The unvarying cycles of nature --- the precise arrival of this season --- remind us of God's ability to bring harmony to all things. Through the orderly unfoldment of nature, we are shown once again that we can rely unreservedly on His wisdom and power, now and forever.

Nature is a splendid declaration of God’s handiwork – John Muir, though steeped in the Bible, preferred natural revelation to God’s word.  (Wiki on John Muir) When life gets crazy and mean, looking at nature does bring a sense of calm – but what about when people I love get weird. Or, when I get crazy and mean?

Staring at a tree only helps so far – and the pain of broken relationships or thoughts isn’t always lulled away with good music. Here’s where Scripture helps – it gets at why spring is so dazzling, but depression is such a reasonable response when we take a good look at the world around us – and within us. (See Psalm 19)

The God of my understanding is One who is faithful – especially in crazy, mean and dark times. Jeremiah described His unfailing provision in the midst of awful troubles – troubles Jeremiah did not cause and surely could not control. Jeremiah had a rough time telling Israel the truth about her coming troubles – nobody wanted to hear it – he wound up in more than one pit, from which the Lord delivered him. The prophet felt walled in, with no clear way of escape – and his prayers bounced off the ceiling. Being beamed up by an extra-terrestrial might have been a huge blessing!  But Jeremiah looked to the unseen hand of God and remembered the mystery of God’s wrath and His mercy. (Lamentations 3)  

Some might hope that they will never meet Jeremiah’s God; I hope I will.

. . . Change and decay in all around I see;
O Thou who changest not, abide with me. (Abide with Me, by Henry Lyttle)

Rip, Rip, Rip . . .

So, about the knitting project: I am on the fourth try, and finally have completed an inch or two of error-free stitches. I had gotten further on previous tries but always messed up, and had to rip out my work.   I dropped stitches, added stitches, purled when I should have knitted and knitted when purling was the stitch.

Yes, I am a klutz knitter – but I am a calmer klutz – because the problems generated by my ineptitude keep my mind from playing silly games with my heart.

Doug smiles sympathetically, and asks, “Again?”

I had to abandon the index card pattern the dear clerk so kindly sketched for me, and go back to a very basic pattern that I am copying from the well-loved “Target” designed baby blanket.  And to that end, I must needs return to the little shop before we head to Dallas, and garner a few more colors of the type of yarn I am using. (Local craft store don’t carry the precise weight.)  I need a bit of yellow, a splash of beige, and a pinch of a pink that is between the raspberry tone and soft pink I am using. I had forgotten how, though minor, their presence brightened the effect.

During these past twelve days, I have remembered many seemingly inconsequential kindnesses and forbearance others have worked into my life, just as those dashes of colors enhance that baby’s blanket I am adapting. But small splashes of memories have made me long for the ability to rip out some of my life’s inept stitches and start over. But what a futile jumble that would make!

No, perhaps this time to be dependent on other people’s prayers, hospitality, compassion and expertise, and God, who is ever mindful of my weakness, has been time well spent.

·      The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another; and his humblest hour is when he compares the volume as it is with what he vowed to make it. --Sir James Matthew Barrie (1860-1937) _The Little Minister_ [1891], Chapter 1

·      Classic remorse, as all the moralists are agreed, is a most undesirable sentiment. If you have behaved badly, repent, make what amends you can and address yourself to the task of behaving better next time. On no account brood over your wrongdoing. ROLLING IN THE MUCK IS NOT THE BEST WAY OF GETTING CLEAN.- Aldous Huxley, Brave New World.

Now – back to the knitting . . .

(Quotes from Christiansquoting.com)

 IMAGE SOURCE PAGE: http://www.picgifs.com/clip-art/knitting/

Another Walk Worth Taking

Doug and I had dinner with our grandchildren as their folks went out to celebrate their eighth anniversary.  Before dinner they took a dip in the pool, and then we settled down to enjoy Maryland barbecued chicken from a local restaurant. (Hey, I am still on vacation even when I am on duty!)

How to fill the time before bedtime with fun, considering the huge dissimilarity in our years and abilities?    

A walk!

Off we went, the youngest, content in a stroller, the other happily skipping ahead, eager to show us where they took swimming lessons.  My hips tried complaining about moving after too many days off – but they finally quieted down, and worked! Ten years ago, it rarely crossed my mind to be grateful for just being able to walk.  This year has been quite a tutor in gratitude.

Anyway, I took this neighborhood circuit for ten years before we left for Texas.  I know the houses and their streets. But walking with a five year old and a three year old, I saw many things I hadn’t noticed  -- like which house had a pretty lamp in the window; which house had funny stripes (siding); which house had small red roses and Black-eyed Susans. 

The walk took longer than it ever has – and doubtless doesn’t count as a cardio-vascular workout. But the treasures gleaned – on an early evening in a late July are inestimable.

• You don't choose your family.  They are God's gift to you, as you are to them.  ~Desmond Tutu 

• Grandchildren are God's way of compensating us for growing old.  ~Mary H. Waldrip

The View from My Window, Part 2 – A Well-Watered Garden

 

A few weeks ago  I described the lawns across the street – one well watered, one not.  Since that time, the lawn that was languishing in the relentlessly dry Texas heat is showing a creeping greenness. Why? Our neighbor turned on the sprinkling system that now irrigates the lawn in the wee early hours of the day. The brown patches are receding, even as the temperatures climb. The blessing of water – consistently and gently available – is having an obvious effect before my eyes. 

However the same water that waters this lawn is creating problems elsewhere in the neighborhood. I described my encounter with the torrents of dirty water a broken water main released yesterday. Today on our early morning walk, we encountered the results of the city opening up a fire hydrant. At one point a city worker hopped from his truck and dropped what we think were large chlorine tablets into the rushing water.  Some curbs were so inundated with muddy water, crossing them was a challenge – taking wide strides across water and mud is tricky with balance issues and bifocals. 

Looking up one alley, we saw a large excavation – something was wrong. We don’t know whether this is scheduled repair work on an old system, or an unexpected problem. But the same water that is refreshing a dying lawn is creating obstacles for our walks.

Water is a hot topic of conversation any day. Whether we talk about its power revealed in tsunamis, floods and storms; lament its excess or absence, or, lament its pollution praise its life-giving properties we can’t live long without it, and we can’t live with too much of it! In my little world I see what too little and too much can do – and I can see how wise watering can revitalize a barren lawn.  

In Scripture water also is a powerful image of God’s Holy Spirit and His righteous wrath. 

(See Isa 12:3; 35:6-7; 55:1; John 7:37-38; Hos. 5:10.)  In my little world, I have seen how thirsty I become when I will not come and drink. And I see too many thirsty folks decline God’s offer of free refreshment. (Isaiah 55; 65:2-5)

But I have sadly seen myself spout out too many words – like that opened water hydrant. Thinking I was offering help I may only have created unnecessary puddles for others to ford.  However, I know the blessed refreshment of words used wisely.  “ . . . Reliable friends who do what they say are like cool drinks in sweltering heat — refreshing!”  (Prov. 25:11-13 from THE MESSAGE)

Thank you all!

Hoping that you dear reader, and I will be refreshed in the word, by God’s Holy Spirit to refresh a thirsty world:  . . . Give a cool cup of water to someone who is thirsty, for instance. The smallest act of giving or receiving makes you a true apprentice. You won't lose out on a thing." (Matt 10:41-42 from THE MESSAGE)

P.S. Yesterday we hit 105 degrees, but low humidity  . . . It did not feel cooler for all the dryness. 

The Last Ten Days

Splashed across a billboard in a local shopping center is the prophecy that the world will end on May 21st this year. And this is from a prominent Christian, Harold Camping, the head of Christian Family Radio who has the money to proclaim the end is coming. Some people are acting accordingly, divesting themselves of property and pets; others are traveling around urging fellow citizens to repent and get right, for when the Lord returns, life will change for those who are at ease in their rejection of God.

I grew up saying I believed Christ will come again to judge the quick and the dead – seeing the announcement that this tenet of my faith is imminent, coupled with all news of earthquakes and wars, makes me wonder how I would spend the last ten days of my life?

Even if Mr. Camping turns out to be right, it’s only a lucky guess. Christ said nobody knows the hour of His return, including Him. (Matthew 24:36) He said when He does come it will be like a thief in the night – but everyone will see Him coming. Christ also said we are to stay busy at our work; Paul chastised those who refused to work, anticipating the Lord’s return (Luke 18:8; 1 Thessalonians 4)

But, if I knew I only had ten days to live, I would tell everybody I love how much they have meant to me; I would do my part to restore all broken relationships, and I would make restitution for all the damage I did. I would pray more to be ready to see Him. I would do whatever good I could to as many folks as I could reach – anticipating that in days I will finally see Christ, and know what He looks like, what His voice sounds like. I would be able to cope with all kinds of stuff, knowing that in ten days, I will have no more worry, pain or problems . . . no more doubts. Wow. I will see those who died in the same faith, that Christ is Lord, and God raised Him from the dead.

But, at the end of ten days, I will never again see those who do not believe God. I only have ten days to work . . . that understanding gives me no peace.

And Christ came to give me (and you) peace. (John 14:27) He also gives hope and a future. (Jeremiah 29:11) And a purpose. (Hebrews 12:13-15)

Nothing is stopping me from doing all the things I would do if I knew May 21, 2011 were my last day – nothing except the complacency that Peter warned against. (2 Peter 3:3- 9) So, on to realize the ambitions, dreams, and the chores for the day , so I can say, with Erma Bombeck:

“When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, 'I used everything you gave me.”

Being Alive

At four-thirty this afternoon, I rustled my stumps and headed out for a walk in the sparkling sunshine, blue skies, crisp breezes – fifty -plus degrees. As I rounded one corner, heading for another, the melody filled my memory – Tis the gift to be simple –

It was sung most recently at the service commemorating those who lost their lives in Arizona, and for those whose battle for life goes on.

Being able to walk on a sunny Saturday afternoon, securely meant more to me than I can say – and as I walked I did it for myself, but also for all couldn’t join me – the folks who died and were injured in Arizona – our soldiers, the souls blown up by suicide bombers – flood-ravaged Australians, the babies who died in Philadelphia (http://www.worldmag.com/webextra/17549) – but especially for those who were too busy or distracted to enjoy their lives – it was quite a gift.

'Tis the gift to be simple,
'tis the gift to be free, . . .

So, too, are the gifts of walking, thinking – daydreaming of loved ones – having dinner with valued friends – living because someone – an unknown hero or heroine to me - stands guard, fights, or dies for me.

Simplicity, order, and freedom cost more than I can repay – more than I can reckon. Thank you.

The photos

It’s the pictures of the children . . . the babies and toddlers who were saved, and the ones who did not . . . that testify to the depth of the horror of the 2010 Haitian earthquake. Thank God or the photographers who captured the grief, the sorrow, the joy – What was so important before the quake, how important is it today?

An`Estate Sale --

My friend spied an estate sale and passed on the address.  Estate sales are always on my way; so, I stopped; I parked on the same street that had obliged me a few Saturdays previously when another estate sale loomed. Approaching the house, I saw through large windows many good, but gently worn treasures in with everyday stuff – and so it was in each room. Alas, nothing for me.

 Leaving the house, a guard greeted me – testifying to the remaining valuables: sterling silver, a full length mink, rugs, books on collecting porcelain and silver, amongst costume jewelry, old appliances  – and half full bottles of cleaning and yard sprays, marked fifty cents. I looked up and saw a broken window pane in a dormer; the paint was pealing; looking around, I saw the yard was overgrown. In the driveway, people had removed the seats in their van to accommodate their find: a sofa with good bones and timeworn upholstery

Because of the economy, her home may be remodeled instead of demolished – and all her things, the care of which surely occupied a large portion of her resources – time, money, and thoughts – will have new homes – or molder landfills. What we work so hard for, becomes another’s property – for a season or two; where is that from in  Ecclesiastes?

A woman’s life sorted, tagged and on sale – not a thing that bore witness to a man’s presence. Who was she? Where is she? Did she have people to love, and love her? Did someone help her at the end of her stay in home?

Well, dear anonymous and elegant lady – thank you for letting me see your treasures. I hope for all the pleasure they gave you, loving hearts gave you more – and that you were loved and that you loved.