If Betty White’s quote is true, I must be really ugly. Last night I slept for twelve hours. This has not been a common occurence for me in some time. Ever since the pandemic began, my sleeping habits have reversed to my life when I was raising a family. During those years, the only time I could actually claim as my own, was when everyone was tucked in bed and fast asleep. I no longer have to reserve time for myself. There’s plenty of it once you’re retired. However, the long period of isolation may have had something to do with filling my mind with old movies and TV shows from the past to keep it occupied on anything but isolation.
When I went to bed last night, I didn’t think about the possibility of not waking up, but when you get to be my age, the odds of that happening become more likely. When we’re children we pray, “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.” I don’t believe we realize the meaning of that request when we’re young. Youth makes us feel invincible – that we’ll live forever. Death isn’t really in our vocabulary when we’re children.
Each day that we’re allowed to breathe and take up space on this planet is another gift from God. He gives us this opportunity so we can enjoy His wonderful creation, learn more about Him, appreciate His blessings, grow in our walk with Him and to share His gift of eternal life with others.
If I believed that there was nothing after this life, I would have no hope. The average human being in the United States lives to between 77-81 years. That’s really not a long time when you think about it – especially when you’re approaching 79. I guess in the latter years of life we really have to get down to business.
Anyway, I’ve lately been able to get by with 7-8 hours of sleep and I’ve heard that when we’re older we require more like ten hours. Maybe that’s to prepare us for our eternal rest. Last night, a pounding headache sent me to the couch at 7:30. I slept and even dreamt about sleeping. I spent hours in my dreams trying to fold a fitted sheet. In fact an old friend was showing me how to do so in such a way that I could bounce it off the wall once it was folded. The dreams continued as I envisioned a bed laden with hundreds of mattresses covering a little pea, which completely disturbed my princess sleep. I’ve been known to have some weird dreams, but this was the first time they followed a particular theme. Maybe I’m starting a whole new phase of my creative thinking process. Maybe I have an overactive muse. Maybe I was just plain tired.
There are times when we simply need to escape to sleep – to ponder the things we’re troubled about – to find answers for particular problems (like that fitted sheet issue,) – to catch up on needed rest after expending a lot of phisical energy – to forget the problems of life for a little while. In any event, I’m awake now, after twelve hours of sleep. Look out world. Here I come.
“Have courage for the great sorrows of life and patience for the small ones; and when you have laboriously accomplished your daily task, go to sleep in peace.” Victor Hugo
The giant reaper opens it massive jaws and its teeth consume the hay – It spits out bales of golden chunks as it forages through fields of fodder – food that will keep the cattle happy for the cold months ahead. The old farm equipment now sits idle in a field of corn which also becomes silage. This animal “super food” will be a source of protein for them.
We so often take the products of farming for granted. Lots of city folks believe that corn, oats and wheat come from factories. They haven’t a clue how their food is harvested and turned into boxed cereals, dog food, and flour used for baking. Most kids have never been to a farm and seen the results of hard work and a lot of sweat. They see items on the grocery shelf and guess they got there by happenstance.
I didn’t grow up on a farm, but I spent many summers at my grandparent’s. Every child should have the opportunity to visit a farm. They will see all kinds of equipment cutting – shredding – bundling and storing. Many of the new farms are now owned by big companies using modern and more efficient machinery. Every now and then, you’ll see a farmer behind a plow or a pair of horses pulling a hay wagon. Usually they’re poor farmers just trying to make a measly living off the land.
Farm life enlivens all the senses. You feel the hard ground turn into fertilized soil, ready to receive seeds. You hear the sound of the machinery as it cuts through the dirt, laying seeds. You see the seeds come to life and grow. You look at the skies and pray for rain or lack of it. You smell a large variety of odors like moist, black dirt – cows, sheep or hogs – freshly baked bread – milk coming straight from the source – perspiration – and so much more. You taste the result of the harvest – corn on the cob, fresh vegetables and fruits, grain turned into flour for use in food preparation.
The smell of fresh, homemade dinner rolls and southern fried chicken wafts from the kitchen. Nutmeg and cinnamon are among the tempting scents. An apple pie or two awaits. Work will have to wait for a while. A famer’s life is filled with anticipation, invention, patience, disappointment and optimism – depending on the circumstances. Come to think of it, we all experience things like that too.
At day’s end a harvest moon appears in the distance. Maybe just a little more can be accomplished by the light of it. You see, the farmer is also one who endures even in the most difficult situations. So do we. With God’s help, we can all be filled with endurance to finish the race.
“What I learned growing up on the farm was a way of life that was centered on hard work, and on faith and on thrift. Those values have stuck with me my whole life. ”
In just a few days, you’ll be walking across a stage to receive a piece of paper that will open a new chapter of your life and allow you to say goodbye to old friends, hello to new ones and begin a journey that will continue to grow into a wonderful future. Along with a class of 600 students, you will end your high school career and move on to college. These are exciting times for you and for those who have watched you grow into a confident, self sufficient woman.
I’ve learned so much from you, my dear, Kaeli Bug. I’ve always admired your strong will and ability to stand your ground in almost every situation. You’ve taught me how to be more compassionate – more caring – spunky – independent and still very tightly connected to those you love. When we watched the movie, “Shrek,” over and over and over again, I also learned some valuable lessons. We are like onions- with many layers, Sometimes those layers are designed to shield us from outside influences and danger. There are also times when we can hide behind them and keep our true feelings hidden from others. Each layer serves a purpose and can add or subtract from our lives. Isn’t it amazing what we can learn from an ogre?
Maturity takes time to grow, but you’ve proven to be well beyond your years as far as that’s concerned. To say that grandpa and I are proud of you is an understatement. We know that you have a wonderful relationship with your Savior and a special place waiting for you in eternity. You are also destined for great things on this planet. Always remember that God is in control and He will direct your ways throughout your life. Take His hand and allow Him to lead you.
As you turn the page of this chapter of your life, you will face adventures unknown – dreams fulfilled and/or crushed – challenges met – goals achieved. Dream big, because you are a lioness. You are capable of greatness and willing to take the necessary risks to achieve success. Dream big, because God has promised you, that He has already mapped out a plan for your life.
“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper and not to harm you, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon Me and come and pray to Me and I will listen to you.” Jeremiah 29:11-12
Each day brings good intentions, but it isn’t long before all of our noble hopes take a hit as reality sets in.
You stumble out of bed – stub your toe on the night stand – limp to the bathroom – freak out as you look at the reflection in the mirror – attempt to cover the circles under your eyes – brush the five remaining teeth in your mouth – sit down to write inspiring words only to draw a complete blank.
You might be a young parent and have every intention of potty training your two year old, cleaning up the dishes from last night’s dinner, sorting the socks that never match. Seems like these things shouldn’t be that difficult until the washing machine breaks down, another child has a fever and you have run out of coffee.
If you’re fortunate to have a job, you shower only to find that the dog’s shampoo has replaced your soap on a rope and you have an important client to meet for lunch. You miss your bus – it’s raining – you don’t have an umbrella and no one told you that your red tie would bleed onto your white shirt. When you finally meet that client and offer to pay the tab all you have in your wallet is Monopoly money.
Our first reaction might be to go back to bed before going any further with our daily tasks. We might just lay a guilt trip on ourselves to compensate for circumstances beyond our control. We could blame others for our plight or we could do the one thing that always seems to be a last resort. When you’re having a bad day – turn it over to the one who invites you to lay your burdens on His shoulders.
We are people who like to think of ourselves as self-sufficient. We are goal oriented and often push the limits to achieve success. We forget that no matter how hard we try, we aren’t in control of the inconveniences that plague our lives from time to time.
If this is your life, or if your circumstances are even more bleak and hopeless than those that I’ve mentioned, there is relief for you too. If your mistakes have put you into dire financial straits; if your addictions have taken over your life; if you are a member of the military and haven’t seen your family other than on Skype; if you have experienced the loss of a loved one – a broken relationship – a terminal disease; if you don’t feel worthy to approach the throne of God – think again.
God loves us so much that he gave up everything so that we could have it all. Instead of waiting, begin your conversation with Him today. Start by saying, “I’m sorry.” He loves to hear those words.
Maybe you think this past year and a half has been the perfect time to get back to family bonding. Some of you may protest that the whole bonding thing was overrated and you’ve had enough. Maybe your children are all grown up and have left the nest to start their own families. You may not be part of their lives anymore In any case, the family unit is still important to the success of the individuals within it.
Some of the best times I’ve had with my children were not on a stage or at a sporting or school event. We shared a lot of good stuff on the way to those things. Time spent in a car doesn’t seem like it would be life changing, but many of our best discussions happened then. I guess you could say I had a captive audience. Being part of a carpool to get ours’ and others’ children to and from school, leaving the field wide open for time well spent with the kids. Quality time, I guess you might call it. We’d talk about what happened during the school day – I could catch up on the latest romances – discover who was the best basketball, football, soccer player and where our team stood among the others. It also gave me time to discuss some of the problems they were dealing with. “Why do we have to go to a private school?” “Jane said I was fat ” “Carlie didn’t like my new outfit.” Things like that might’ve been insignificant, but so necessary to discuss with someone. I was always happy to be on the receiving end.
For us, 90 percent of our time was spent in the car, so I took advantage of every minute. We’d travel great distances to get to those school events. I was the self appointed drama director , so became a part of that time with my kids too. Now children are easily distracted by cell phones, texting, Ipads, social media, etc., which makes it even more important for time to be spent face to face in the moment. It’s vital for parents to connect regularly with their kids.
There were many road trips where I had to wonder why our kids had to go to a private school too. Like the many trips to basketball games when snows were falling horizontally and I had no clear view of the road. Or when my windshield wiper flew off during a thunderstorm on the way to a puppet show we were to present. One of the puppets replaced the wiper and worked pretty good until it went flying off too. Or the time when the stick shifter pulled out of its socket as we made a turn. I pushed it back in and we continued on. Never say die, I guess.
My point in all this is that we have our children for such a short time in their lives. We need to take advantage of any opening to communicate with them – to share in their struggles – praise them in their victories – and pour love on them in some small way. Treasure the time you have with yours. Soon they’ll be leading their own lives and it’s good to know that they can talk to you anytime . . . even in the car. I should probably add that my “captive audience” was sometimes asleep while I was pressing on through wind, rain and snow. Some of our conversations got through to them however, and they turned into amazing adults. Sounds like a bragging mom – I am.
Proverbs 22:6 – Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it. Ephesians 6:4 – And, ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath: but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. Proverbs 29:15 – The rod and reproof give wisdom: but a child left [to himself] bringeth his mother to shame.
Several years ago I was in a play called, “Summer Tree.” The story centered around a young man who struggled with going to war in Viet Nam. He had difficulty deciding to enlist or wait to be drafted. Over the course of the play he talks with his parents about his future, shares his concerns with his girl friend and in the end is killed in combat.
At the time, I was about 44 years old and had a son who was 18. I played the mother in the story. For me to get into character was no problem. I had already experienced watching my son grow into a man. The thought of his passing at such a young age was difficult to imagine, but portraying this mom who lost her son was more than that. Each performance, as I became this woman, I could feel her pain and sympathize with her loss. It physically drained me and on the evening of our final performance when the curtain came down, I actually passed out from the physical and emotional exhaustion.
I think of all the parents who have lost sons and daughters – all the sweethearts that had to move on – all the brothers and sisters of those fallen in battle and it touches my heart, not only because of the loss, but of the heroism involved. I imagine a telegram arriving to tell of the loss of a child. I wonder how I would react if I was on the receiving end of that message. All of those men and women gave the supreme sacrifice for their countrymen.
Some of them returned home with artificial limbs. Some suffered for the rest of their lives with PTSD. Some will never be the same and many of them lose their lives. This is reason enough to give them the honor they deserve. Anyone who is willing to put his own life on the line to sacrifice for others definitely should be given special attention.
When injustice is being done to humanity; when lives are being spent in the name of freedom; when governments become so big that they no longer include the voice of the people; the voice of conscience becomes louder and those who are listening will answer it and act upon it.
It seems quite common for rain to fall on this day. Maybe the tears of God are being shed for those who gave their lives. He knows what it’s like to lose a son. The tears don’t last forever though, because we know His Son conquered death and rose to life again, just as we will.
Dear, Lord, you paid the ultimate price for our eternal freedom. You are truly our hero, because you gave your life for the salvation of the entire world. Thank you for instilling bravery and courage into the minds of young men and women who serve our country. They are heroes, because of their unselfish acts. Help us, as your children, to give them the honor they deserve and never hesitate to sincerely thank them for their service. Amen!
Memorial Day originated as a day to remember those who died on the field of battle, defending their country without thought for themselves. They gave the ultimate sacrifice by serving with dignity and honor and placing the safety of others before their own – a selfless act which has somehow been diminished over time.
My husband served in the Air National Guard at the time of the Bay of Pigs Invasion. He entered this branch of service, served six months of active duty and summer camp for six years following. He does not consider himself a veteran, because he didn’t go the regular route and serve all his time at once. I appreciate his humility, but in my eyes he is still a hero. During his time of active duty, his unit was called along with others to get to their bases immediately and be prepared to take off in the darkness of night, to fight the communists in Cuba. They were told to run stop lights getting there. The urgency in the order sent chills up his spine, but he knew he was prepared. They waited – and waited – and waited. At last they were sent home when an agreement was made between the countries involved.
My husband never faced the enemy in war. He never had to watch his friends as they were shot and killed or lost limbs. He never suffered PTSD. The stories of his time in the Air Force are not filled with anxiety, hatred, anger or fear like so many of our returning soldiers who faced combat. Still he was willing to serve his country and die in the process, if need be.
We have friends and family who have returned from Korea, Viet Nam, the Middle East – scarred by their experiences. There is no way to explain the pangs of hell a soldier must face each time they enter the combat arena. They’re exposed to all kinds of emotions and danger which we can’t begin to comprehend. When they return home, they suffer from nightmares, flash backs and memories of horrible acts against humanity. Then there are those who are MIA or POW who are never heard of again. We remember their service, but they soon become a faded memory. Still cemeteries are lined with white headstones atop graves holding those who didn’t return. The fallen soldiers who gave the ultimate sacrifice, become distanced memories over time. Once a year, we show them homage on Memorial Day.
Then I’m reminded of my Savior, Jesus. The selfless soldier who did battle against the evils of this world and won. His victory over sin and death is our great heritage. He took our place on the battlefield against the devil. When we make the choice to help another person, we are in a small way imitating Him. Today and every day, let’s be grateful to those who are willing to give their lives for others.
It’s time to pack up the car, Winnebago, or van and head out to discover the National Parks or trudge off to a special destination. Most everyone remembers the family vacation movies that appeared several years ago. We had our own version of those memorable road trips ourselves and I’m sure many of you have as well. In the movies, the most outlandish things happened, sometimes horrible situations. Some of the things that happen on a family trip can actually cause us to back out in fear and vow to stay home this year.
We were no different than the Griswolds. We’d pack our vehicle to the max with luggage, camping equipment, the family dog, a cooler full of goodies and five of us. Family vacations really do bring you closer together – if you like sitting on each other’s laps or can bear the smell of body odor for more than an hour at a time. Oh the joys of the open road – where you can leave all your troubles behind and just enjoy the blessings of God’s creation . . . well almost.
Our first camping excursion taught us how to put up a tent, build a fire, cook over it and wash dishes in the open air. I’d never been camping in my life, but my husband – and avid outdoorsman – loved it and wanted his children to experience the rich rewards. The tent was set up, car unloaded, we ate under the tall pines and it was lovely – until a tornado came spinning through our campground in the middle of the night.
The children were fast asleep as the tent began swaying in the wind. My husband scurried outside in his underwear to secure our habitat to a tree, as I held it up from within, wwhile water dripped into my armpits. The kids slept through the entire thing.
Those vacations continued over the growing up years of our children. The first two loved camping. The third one – not so much. She was a lot like me in preferring to stay in a five star motel and dining in a nice restaurant. Our budget wouldn’t always stretch that far, so we lived in our van for a week and complained most of the time.
Family time together can make for some wonderful memories. Through those times, we had an opportunity to learn more about each other, a chance to enjoy each others’ company, telling stories around the campfire and sleeping like a log when you finally went to sleep.
Time you spend together is never wasted. BTW, this was before smart phones and other electronics. “Never leave your children to their own devices,” a quote from my husband. Think about the Children of Israel. They had a forty year family vacation in the wilderness. No wonder they complained so much.
Memorial Day is almost here and with it thoughts of summer, vacations, picnics and fun. In the same breath this day was intended as a celebration of those who gave their lives in the service of their country. The National draft ended in 1973 after the Viet Nam ended. Today we have an all volunteer military. The call of patriotism as waned over time, but we still honor those who have given their all to serve. It seems, however, that the focus on patriotism is secondary to having fun. Unfortunately everything has taken a back seat to our own personal wants and needs.
Will Rogers once said, “We can’t all be heroes, because somebody has to sit on the curb and applaud when they go by.” A hero is often not around to receive the glory he deserves. They may not be marching in the parade, but their contribution to their fellow man is something we often forget about. Those of us who sit on the curb are the recipients of their heroism.
We all possess an inner little gem in our very souls, called a conscience, which allows us the ability to discern the difference between right and wrong. This gift from God is what allows men to do great things when times call for it. When injustice is being done to humanity – when lives are being spent in the name of freedom – when governments become so big that they no longer include the voice of the people – the voice of conscience becomes louder and those who are listening will answer it and act upon it.
Dear Father, God, As we approach a day of remembrance for those who have spent their lives for the benefit of others, help us honor them as they deserve. Remind us to be grateful for their service and sincerely thank those who continue to serve. Let us never forget the price our fellow man has paid for freedom and remind us of the cost of our future in eternity. Without you, we would never know true peace. Amen!
Some time ago I tagged along with my artist husband to experience, first hand, what it’s like to paint outdoors. Most of these excursions don’t produce final masterpieces, but are more of a study in light, shadows, feeling the environment and a compilation of sketches for future reference.
It was a cloudy afternoon, with a sky filled with the threat of some interesting weather. We arrived at the beautiful winery, complete with grapes and an apple orchard. Miles and miles of various colors of green everywhere. Interspersed with picnic tables and outstanding bronze sculptures, it was the perfect place to set up an easel and get out the paints.
I didn’t bring my paints along this time. Paul was painting with a group of professional artists and I knew I couldn’t begin to compete, so I sat back and watched. Soon those nasty clouds filled the sky and raindrops starting falling. Many of the artists had umbrellas which covered their easels, but my artist continued to endure the elements. They were just sketches, he said.
The rain continued, but never amounted to much more than a sprinkle. I was beginning to see just how dedicated this man is to his craft. He didn’t blink an eye as raindrops fell upon the watercolor sketches. Watercolor is apparently very forgiving. Many of the artists had been there since early morning, so they packed up and went on their way. A few die-hard painters remained.
By the end of the event, the sun was shining and new brilliance adorned the landscape. “Perfect light,” he said. I almost didn’t join him in this adventure, but it was a chance to be together and I really enjoyed watching him delve into his work. The beauty of it all was worth it too.
God blesses us with these special times every day. It can be encased in the beauty of the sun peeking out of the clouds, or in the tumultuous clouds themselves. As we drove home, we witnessed another bank of storm clouds, which seemed to follow us all the way. I started imagining different things in the clouds, as I often did as a child. Both of us commented on the crocodile, the little man with a Pinnocchio hat, the giant monster blowing on another cloud.
It was a wonderful afternoon, filled with new stories and love.
We had a stiff wind yesterday and a reminder that we can’t control the elements. It started out as any normal day for a couple of old retired folks. We generally get up early, do our morning devotion and talk for a while, The sky intermittently displayed various kinds of clouds, indicating we might be in for some rain or storm activity. May in Minnesota is wildly unpredictable. One day it can be sweltering hot and another might need to add an extra blanket to the bed. Other times. you might witness a scene from “The Wizard of Oz” and feel as though you’ve been transported to place nothing like Kansas.
As the day progressed, we were faced with all kinds of ups and downs. For a while it felt like we were on a roller coaster. That’s what makes life interesting – right? After getting his car in for an oil change, Paul needed to put some miles on his tires and then have them retorqued so we decided to take care of a few chores. First stop was Best Buy to purchase the Roku that will eventually wean us off of cable. Then we stopped to purchase some annual plants to add to the garden for some color. We also needed a new hose for that garden, because the other one had served us well for many years. Each of these stops came with a slight amount of panic as people appeared without masks – uncovering less than happy faces. By the time we returned home, we were already exhausted an occurance which is happening more often lately. A light lunch cured that and we were ready to dig into the projects we’d just created for ourselves.
It was then that the fun began. I was trying to decide where to place my new plants, cleaned out a few garden areas and again had to sit down for a while. SIDE NOTE – A couple years ago my husband invented a new way of playing croquet for us old fogies. We set up several little sitting areas in our yard so that you could tap the ball – sit down and have a little talk and rest – then move on to the next sitting area. Thus we have lots of those stopping off points. But as usual, I digress.
Paul was trying to salvage something from the old hose before installing the new. The wind picked up and suddenly he heard a loud snap. The lovely flowering crab tree next to our garage had split and fallen to the ground. Paul responded with his usual comment, “That was interesting.” Fortunately it’s a little tree, but I will sadly miss the beauty it added to our yard. There was no damage to anything else, but the adventures would continue. Now a new project opened up for us. We looked at each other and laughed. Our plans for the day now exploded into a much bigger undertaking.
Like I said, it’s a small tree. Our son is coming over to deal with it this week. But that wasn’t the last of our adventures. I sat down and looked at the mess. Sometimes we create the mess ourselves and sometimes God sets a roadblock up so we can put things into perspective. That’s what He was doing yesterday. As I went over to examine the fallen tree and begin clipping some of the smaller branches, the wind picked up again. This time it created an updraft which pulled our sun umbrella right out of it’s foundation – close to the spot I’d just been sitting and carried it to the back door. Just a few minutes prior, I could’ve been in its path. The door, which has a leaded glass window was undamaged. Some might call that a coincidence, but we looked at it as God’s protection once more.
I decided to call it a day, but my sweet husband continued to work at disconnecting the old hose and other tasks which needed attention. It wasn’t long before he came inside the house to cool off and he was laughing hysterically. “Now what,” I thought. He came into the kitchen to show me that his pants (which should be suspendered) were curiously sliding down. He would fit in with today’s fashion. We could’ve taken all these occurances as an indicator of our aging process, but everything was so comical, all we could do was laugh.
We were thankful that no real damage occurred to our property and that we were spared injury and/or embarassment. When life hands you lemons, there’s usually more than one, but the sweet taste of lemonade makes it much better.
I must admit to my addiction to television, especially in the past year or so. For some “unknown” reason I’ve found myself escaping into the world of cable TV. I’ve discovered I can watch many of the better shows and don’t have to submit to mindless advertising. However, I have become a tubeaholic.
I could blame it on the pandemic, but that’s only half true. My internal clock is off balance as well. I’ve reverted to my younger years when I stayed up late at night. Maybe it’s some sort of anxiety – rearing its ugly head through different habits. I’ve taken to watching things like “Murder She Wrote,” “Midsomer Murders,” “Murder She Baked,” “Diagnosis, Murder,” and so on. Do you see a pattern here? My husband is getting a little paranoid. I wonder why?
About a week ago, we were informed by the cable company that our rates were going up by $30-40. When two people are struggling to get by each month on Social Security and a little side income from our teaching, $30-40 is like $100-200. Where does that extra charge come from? After spending hours discussing this with Customer Loyalty, we decided to simply cancel the service all together. We do have a smart TV after all. It should be able to figure out how to make those murder mysteries available again.
As with all the new fangled technology, we feel like dinosaurs trying to live in a totally different world. It takes us more time to figure things out than it used to and by the time we do, we’re exhausted. Even though I write a daily blog and do tons of research on the worldwide web, I’m still like an infant when it comes to any of it.
I should go outdoors and enjoy the heavenly weather, but allergies are an issue and humidity is unbearable for me. When I’m in the house, I get easily bored. Reorganizing and cleaning have no appeal. I tried writing a novel. I even finished it, I thought. Then I had a number of people read it and began to have second and third and even fourth thoughts about it. It’s been nearly a year since I’ve worked on it. Creative juices still flow, but sometimes they need a jump start and that’s where I’m at right now. I will undoubtedly go into withdrawal from my addiction and be better for it. In the meantime, I may have to write a murder mystery.
Mountainous clouds entwine in a sky of black, Filling with tears from the Lord of all. He sees and He knows our tribulation. The depth of our sorrow is in His hands. There is nothing we can do to take away our sadness. We cannot change the course of our lives, But He has turned His tears to cleansing waters Through the death of His beloved Son. Washed – forgiven for sin’s deadly pain, We can dance in His refreshing r
When I look back to my high school graduation in 1960, I find I’ve forgotten some of the highlights, but 1960 was truly a year filled with much controversy. John F. Kennedy was elected president. He was the first Catholic to ever hold office. He had a glamorous wife, came from a prominent family, faced tragedy in his lifetime and would go on to be assasinated while riding through the streets of Dallas. Dr. Martin Luther King was an outspoken civil rights activist for racial equality. Race descrimination was at its peak The Viet Nam war was an issue. Women were lookinng for equality too. The feminist movement occurred during this time and women burned they bras as a form of protest. They could expect to work in very few occupations – Secretaries, Nurses, Waitresses, teachers and mothers. Most women stayed at home to raise their children. Some broke through the barriers and pursued medical careers or attempted to achieve success in areas which had only been reserved for me.
So much has changed in the last sixty some years, but a lot remains the same. You have a unique story to tell your children and grandchildren some day. You will be able to relate being isolated in your home for a year because of a worldwide pandemic. You can tell them of the time you had to wear a mask to work and disinfect everything you touched. You will have many stories of how people changed their normal activities, like eating out, going to church and sharing time with friends. Your last two years of school have been filled with disappointment, frustration, sometimes anxious moments and a time filled with confusion and not knowing the outcome. Those things will only make you a stronger person than you already are. You’ve learned to adapt to learning on line, giving things up, going with the flow and following some tough restrictions, but I know that is only going to grow your faith and build your character.
When you look back on this time, I hope you will treasure every moment you had going through them – yes even the yucky stuff. We are so proud of your achievements so far and know that you will succeed at whatever you do. You are strong, invincible, a woman of excellence, integrity and Christian values. All of those attributes will help you reach for your dreams even when they seem impossible. Always know that you are God’s precious child and He will love you when others don’t. He will guide you through difficult choices. He will walk with you in your journey. He will use you for a wonderful purpose.
My generation tends to forget that our lives weren’t perfect. I think we paint a picture of perfection of the past – Norman Rockwell’s view of American life as it should be. We try to hide the bad stuff and look only at the things that made our age great.
I never thought I was pretty enough, smart enough or perfect enough. I was unsure about my future. I struggled with the idea of going to church, because I knew there were hypocrites there. I was teased for being chubby. I was convinced that God was a fierce judge who was going to sentence me to an eternity in hell. I got depressed over small things and panicked when it came to the big stuff.
In my lifetime our country has been involved in a number of wars. Weekly air raid drills were the norm. We’d be ushered to the basement of our schools and told to sit with our hands over our heads until the teacher gave us the all clear. Families built bomb shelters. We were exposed to a new kind of entertainment that opened all kinds of doors. It came in the form of a huge piece of furniture with a tiny glass picture tube. As girls, we could hope for a career as a secretary, a teacher or a nurse. A four year college degree guaranteed a high paying job.
Segregation was a huge problem. Cigarettes were a kind of status symbol. Everyone smoked – even the news anchors as they reported the news each night. We didn’t hear about scandals in government, but they were there. We didn’t have to lock our doors every time we left the house, but that doesn’t mean that crime didn’t exist. We just didn’t hear about it like we do today. Bullying isn’t a new problem, but now with social media, the options are unlimited.
It’s important to let children know they have value without putting them on a pedestal. We need to let them know they’re loved, not only by us, but by God who looks beyond their imperfections. Most of all, we need to pray for them every day. We can raise them, but God gives purpose to their lives.
“And another angel came out from the altar, the angel who has authority over the fire, and he called with a loud voice to the one who had the sharp sickle, “Put in your sickle and gather the clusters from the vine of the earth, for its grapes are ripe.” So the angel swung his sickle across the earth and gathered the grape harvest of the earth and threw it into the great winepress of the wrath of God. And the winepress was trodden outside the city, and blood flowed from the winepress, as high as a horse’s bridle, for 1,600 stadia.”
We live in a small town in Minnesota called Anoka. It started out as a a lumbertown with two rivers on either of it’s boundaries. As we were searching for a home closer to my daughter and her family (which I guess is what you do so they can keep watch over us,) we finally came upon a little farm house planted right in the middle of town, next to the freeway, close to shopping, church and family, convenient to everything we do, quiet neighbors and charmingly redecorated to fit the actual time of its construction in 1875. As I think about this little treasure I can see that God has definitely blessed us.
The noise of the freeway has recently become louder because of an upcoming construction endeavor. A few of the homes have undergone renovation – some are vacant – there are a few rental properties. Recently one of those rentals has become somewhat of a nuisance. There’s lots of coming and going at night. I sometimes feel like we’re recreating the movie, “Rear Window.” An Amazon truck parks in front of a neighbor’s house and we speculate as to what they’re purchasing online. A medical care facilitator visits a shut in and we are concerned for that neighbor’s health. One has lost her father to COVID19 and we pray for her. A few cars show up at night with deep bass beat accompanied by the voice of a monotonous rapper -pounding loudly – enough to rattle this old house. A train whistles by a few blocks away and shakes the same building. Our floors are uneven, but so are we. We truly love our house and hope that we can spend our remaining days living in it.
When we lived in the bustling city of Mnneapolis, we were also in a nice neighborhood, just across the river from the now riot producing, protesting, gunslinging and terrified families dwell. Living in the perfect neighborhood is getting harder and harder to achieve. Unless you live on a deserted island, you may never know perfection and even that might be a huge challenge.
Wherever you choose to live, there will be issues. Our Minneapolis home had a neighbor next door from us who was dealing drugs. We watched diligently as folks would come and go throughout the night. Their visits lasted only a minute or two and resulted in them returning to their cars with a bag of something. Eventually they were busted by the police. We now live across the street from a house that stirs memories of that same kind of activity. Do we call the police? If we do, will their be repercussions? You can’t be sure today. Do we learn to live with it? Do we yell, “Get out of my neighborhood? or Get off my lawn?” Do we approach them directly and face the possibility of getting shot. These are things we’ve been thinking about lately, but I sure hate to think about moving again.
I pray that God will continue to bless our time in this old house and give us the stamina to be here a long time. We’ve even thought about installing a chair lift so we can make it up and down the stairs through our aging. The only problem is those frequent potty trips during the night. My husband has come up with a solution and has thought of inventing one with a built-in porta-potty.
So as we begin adding color with flowers and beautiful plants, we can see more beauty appearing daily. We’ll keep our eyes peeled for any suspicious activity and trust in the Lord always.
PSALM 27:4 “One thing have I asked of the LORD, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to inquire in his temple.”
As I reach the end of my years, I find I have a lot of good information stored up in this old decrepit mind of mine. If I don't write it all down, it may vanish and no one will have the advantage of my thoughts. This is why this blog exists. I love the Lord, Jesus with all my heart and soul. I know I'm undeserving of all He's done for me, but I also know that His love is beyond my comprehension.
I've always wanted to write. I never kept diaries, but tucked my thoughts in my head for future reference. I use them now in creating stories, plays, poetry and my blog.
I continue to learn every day. I believe the compilation of our time spent with God will have huge affect on the way we live. I know I'm a sinner and I need a Savior. I have One through Jesus, Christ.
My book, "Stages - a memoir," is about the seven stages of life from the perspective of a woman. It addresses all the things girls and women go through in life as they travel it with Jesus, and it is available on Amazon.com.
Life is a patchwork of moments — laughter, solitude, everyday joys, and quiet aches. Through scribbled stories, I explore travels both far and inward, from sunrise over unfamiliar streets to the comfort of home. This is life as I see it, captured in ink and memory. Stick around; let's wander together.
God's amazing grace removes walls and replaces those barriers with Jesus, freedom from sin's consequences, freedom to forgive, and freedom to love unconditionally.
atimetoshare.me 
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