Coming Home

This past Sunday, I journeyed to the Austin area and visited the church I called ‘home’ before Papa John and I married and my life began in the San Antonio area. It was delightful to see the people I’ve known and loved for many years. It was amazing how many faces were new and unfamiliar to me as well. The church building had been enlarged and was very beautiful. While that was lovely to see, it was the hearts of my old friends that said ‘church’ to me. Some of those people have been around since the infancy of my spirit-filled days.

I also had the opportunity to spend quality time in the home of other friends, curl up on the bed and visit with my little sister (Papa John’s sister), have meaningful time and conversation with a daughter, and share my life’s news over lunch with a dear friend on Monday before heading home. The Austin area was my home for a long time. I’ve had many good times and some not so wonderful times there.  It’s changed and grown so much I easily get turned around trying to maneuver my way through town. It no longer feels like my emotional ‘home’ and hasn’t for some time. I told my friend, Ed, at lunch that I preferred life in our little five light town. It’s the hearts of the people with which I share life and cared about that say ‘home’ to me, not location.

The long drive back gave me plenty of time to process my short visit. The quiet of my car has always been a refuge for thinking, praying, and reflecting. As I said good-bye to each old friend respectively, they hurried back to their normal lives. My visit, albeit pleasant, was just a quick blip on their radar. I enjoyed the short time there and the smiles and hugs from people I love. I was blessed by the service and teaching in my former church. I was thankful for the short time I had with each friend, to look into their eyes however briefly and see the face of ‘home.’ I was equally pleased to drive back into our little five light town and have comfort settle over me that comes from the sense of being in your place, where ever it is. Back at the hacienda with my Honey and hounds, my mind, body and spirit relaxed and snuggled in to the familiar as home reached up to greet me.

Home really is where your heart is. It’s in the faces of all those that passed through your life and left their footprints on your heart. It’s in the comfort of your own bed. It’s feeling like you belong right where you are with the people that pass through your life on a daily basis. It’s in the palm of God’s hand. Home is love and Jesus said the greatest of all is love. Now that’s what makes ‘coming home’ all worthwhile.

Well Worth the Wait

I need to set the record straight before getting into the blog post this morning. You see, I feel I had turned my back on waiting for God to give me something to write about and started just writing something because 'it worked.' I was asking God this morning why I hadn't heard from Him lately on blog subjects. In my spirit, I heard I hadn't waited to hear, so there was no need to give me anything….and He was right. I was eager to share what I got from studying; God didn't tell me to work on that. I just moved forward in it. That is not what He has charged me to do. He still 'talked' to me about other things because I had not jumped ahead and did what I thought I should do. In that light, let me say I have missed the 'holy taps on the shoulder' a great deal. There's a lesson in that, Folks. When we clog our minds with our own agendas, we are closing the door and our spiritual ears to hearing from God. I do not think God micro-manages our thought life but He should be the voice we listen for daily, not a guest speaker. That being said…

As a child, I was moved around rather than planted some place in which to grow roots. As an adult, I still moved around, taking my children with me. I put them in the same boat. I had a heart's desire to give them the sense of roots I always longed to have, yet, did not see that come to fruition. My 'gypsy' mentality was always looking for something, anything to give that to me. Now, after living in this house for almost nine years, a record time living in one place, I found myself thinking about moving. I have been asking myself why. Here are a few things I see as logical reasons…

1. I need to get away from the Texas heat. Having suffered two experiences with heat exhaustion, I cannot handle the heat anymore at all. Forced to spend most of the summer indoors, I feel like a captive. I love to garden but it has to happen in the very early morning hours ...aka…my writing time, before the sun gets serious.

2. I want to downsize our carbon footprint on the earth. Sounds very eco-friendly and tree hugger-like, but it all makes sense to me. I have spent a lifetime drawing various house plans that I wanted to have and now they no longer appeal to me. I am now drawn to small & cozy as my 'dream house'.

3. The gypsy in me wants to experience something new and different. I've never felt compelled to move back to any place I've lived before. I have a 'been there-done that' mentality that does not need to 'go home again', if you will. I'd rather expand my horizons than relive them. I'll just visit, thank you.

The other day I realized I was at peace with the idea of leaving our beloved hilltop hacienda. This surprised me a little since it is the closest I've come to ever having those roots I've longed for. I asked God to help me understand. His answer was simple and forthcoming. He said I had found my roots in Him, not in location, not in a house. I was content with meeting our needs rather than our wants because I had surrendered my life to Him and the external issues of 'want' no longer mattered. Made me cry tears of joy! A peace washed over me I had not previously known. I'm glad I asked and thankful He answered!

This bears repeating: When we clog our minds with our own agendas, we are closing the door and our spiritual ears to hearing from God. I do not think God micro-manages our thought life but He should be the voice we listen for daily, not a guest speaker.

Laying the Phantoms to Rest

This weekend I watched a show on PBS regarding tips for being better stewards of energy in your home. ‘Stewards of energy’ being my words, not theirs; but looking for a godly parallel in all things, this is exactly what it is. Almost everything we use in the home runs on energy of some sort be it electrical and manual. This show was very informative and practical. I learned a new phrase…phantom energy. Perhaps ‘phantom energy sappers’ would be more appropriate. The silent, unseen users of energy which contributes to our power bills without thought on our part.

I have long functioned as the self-appointed Electricity Sheriff in our home; this program caught my attention. If there is a way to save money and be a better steward of energy I will thankfully pay attention to learn about it. The phantom energy sappers are every where; we had several in our home! You probably do, too.

If you have a computer system, you most likely have a power strip with multiple plugs stuck in them. The power strip itself is a phantom energy sapper. We like having instant access to everything, thus the power strip is likely to stay on. We merely need turn a switch on a lamp, etc for that instant access. Instant access + power strip = $$. I have a power strip built-in on my kitchen work island. Admittedly, it stayed on more often than not because of the lamp on the island. Walk into my kitchen any night after bedtime and you will have enough little green lights on appliances to guide you like an airport landing strip. I have two ovens and a microwave, so we are a Plus Three in phantom sapper right there alone; throw in the island power strip and my kitchen keeps the electric meter turning 24/7. I can turn off the island strip but the ovens and microwave might require throwing a breaker to turn off; not very practical. I did stop using the clock/auto start function on my coffeemaker. It doesn’t kill me to wait a few minutes and only cost a split second of my time to plug back in.

The difficult part about regulating power strips is that we often have them out of sight because…well, they are unsightly. A little maneuvering can put them within toe reach, if nothing else. Let’s face it; it is far more painful to write out the ever rising light bill than it would be to situate our power strips where they could be turned off. Speaking of which, leaving your computer on all the time, even in hibernation mode, is a phantom energy sapper…..so, Honey, heads up, you’ll have to turn your power strip back on to use your computer tonight.

Ceiling fans were once a phantom energy sapper in our home. Many times I would find every fan in the house on, some in empty rooms. By empty, I mean no people. Ceiling fans cool people, not rooms. Night lights left on can be sappers. Having kids living here not too long ago we had night lights in their bedrooms and bath. Switched to the light activated ones; those pennies I saved may one day buy you lunch so don’t make fun of pennies saved. Now, I unplug them unless we have guest spending the night. It takes less than one second to plug in or unplug a sapper, hours to earn the money to pay the light bill. Do the math!

We fight other types of phantom energy sappers. Our spiritual energy is vital to our day to day life and yet we are not always very watchful about the things that drain us. Maybe it’s the lack of renewing our spiritual energy that does more harm. Scripture tells us to renew our minds and to guard out hearts daily.

Physical energy phantoms, such as stress, can drain our resources. Some stress sources are in plain sight but it’s the phantom sources that can sneak up on you. My Honey was telling me just yesterday that he realized a work situation was causing him stress and bringing on a headache while he was at home relaxing. It just snuck in while he wasn’t watching. Phantoms are called phantoms for a reason….you don’t see or notice them until it’s too late. Thus the need to be on guard, to diligently watch and monitor what goes on around us.

Here’s a suggestion for these phantoms in our lives. Put on your Energy Sheriff badge and walk around in and outside of your home. Take inventory in every room of potential phantom energy sappers and deal with them accordingly. This short inventory time can add up in savings…maybe then you can take me to lunch. Then, when you’ve satisfied your mind and conservation conscience that you are doing all you can to be a good steward, get down to the nitty-gritty and ask God to help you see where you are allowing spiritual energy sappers to drain you. He can reveal areas you might not think about because you are just used to having them around.

Look out, phantoms; we’re on to you now!

Of Course!

I’m having one of those days when all you want to do is crawl back in bed and pull the covers over your head. Nothing in my world is lining up right. It started out waiting in anticipation for that first cup of coffee, the nectar of the gods. I did my motherly morning duties for the dogs while I waited. Ah, now cup in hand I can jump start my very busy day. Wrong! Bringing my cup of obviously steaming coffee to my lips for a tentative sip, I was dismayed to find it was only lukewarm. Ekk! The deceptive steam was a product of the cold morning air hitting the lukewarm coffee. I poured it back in the coffeemaker and pour another before heading to my desk to find my internet is down…again! This occupied me for a bit because I need the internet working so I can send out the blog. My internet server has not, is not doing a very good job in the consistency department. This tends to raise my stress level on a regular basis. Living in the area we do has limited our choices of high speed internet providers to…oh, this one. Of course!

I have a family member having surgery this morning. I wanted to call for a ‘love you & praying for you’ time before the surgery but the phone number I needed for the hospital is in an email on my computer that I can not access. Of course!

I decided that maybe, just maybe, the phone number was in my caller ID from previous conversations. I reached for the closest phone only to find the screen blank. I went for the next phone, we have three. Same thing, punch buttons till your fingers fall off and nothing. Blank screen. Tracking down the third phone I discovered the same irritating problem! And, yes, men folk, the phones were in their charging cradles. This is not new, but an ongoing issue with our lousy phones. They are not old phones, no; these are our latest new phones. If I had a dollar for every time I have clutched one of these phones in both hands trying to strangle it as I shook it to the now familiar tune of “I hate these phones!” I could buy more but what would be the point? These ARE the newest in a long line of phones, these are not cheap phones but they are just as lousy as the less expensive ones. Of course!

Deciding to make the most of the time sans internet and phones, I proceeded to move into the kitchen to take my meds and make a small repast. Once in the fridge my mouth sent my hand straight to the cold baked potato tempting me from the top shelf. I was practically drooling. I had visions of an egg draped over the steaming baked potato like a fur coat. My brain interceded and made my hand grab a carrot instead of the potato as my fantasy faded. Meatless meat, sautéed carrot and a farm fresh cage free egg now on the menu, I noticed that my computer was back online. I rushed over excitedly while the meatless meat was cooking and tried eagerly to bring my email up…maybe there was still time to make the “love you & praying for you” call….see how quickly I forgot the stinking phones weren’t working? Sad, huh? It was of no avail because the little blue light that indicates the computer is online was lying anyway! Yep, the cruelest trick of all; makes me THINK I can get online but nooooooooo! Meanwhile, sitting with head hung down in contained frustration, I realized I was very close to burning my meatless meat! Ekk! Of course, what else would fit my morning? Back to the kitchen I go.

Once breakfast was behind me I sundered back to the computer because there was no need to rush…but to my hesitant surprise, the blue was on once more. It let me get online so I thought things were looking up. It did not let me pull up my email. Of course!

Finally after ten different tries, I was able to see the number I was so anxious to get. I picked up the phone and was delighted to see the face of the screen. I quickly and thankfully placed the call to the far away hospital and my beloved family member. Finally reaching that familiar voice my hopes of being supportive and reassuring were dashed again….he’s old, lost some hearing, couldn’t hear a word I said. Of course!

The entire time it has taken me to write this the little blue demon light on my router has continued to blink and wink at me. It’s NOT supposed to do that. It is taunting me, letting me know it decides if I get to send this, not me! This might all have been taken in stride much more easily if I had been allowed my daily dose of caffeine. To this point I have not had a complete cup of coffee. While it has been left alone as I dashed to and fro between kitchen and computer only to get cold over and over I have had to accept the coffeemaker is on its last leg and is just not able to perform as it should and will need to be replaced…..again! Of course!

There is good news for today, however. Our son, Daniel, and his precious baby daughter, Madielynn, are coming to dinner tonight. The sun is brightly shining albeit windy and chilly. God is still on the throne today and forever just as He has been for eternity and all my worldly troubles of this morning fade into oblivion as I nestle down in the comfort and security of His hand. Troubles, my Friends, can only bother us and have power over us IF we let them. Since He is for us, who or what can stand against us? Nothing of consequence! Of course!

Time Travel

Time travel has long been debated and will grace the screen of many a Sci-Fi movie. Since God is capable of all things, I believe He can do anything He wants to do. Therefore, God can arrange time travel when and where and with whom He pleases.

Walk with me now as we step back in time……..

This writing is not to debate the issue but I believed there is a form of time travel we are all capable of and probably should experience. This time traveling involves going back to visit relatives in the place from whence you came. I recently returned to area of my birth and extended family to attend a funeral. What a bag of mixed emotions this brings! This month marks the sixteenth anniversary of when we were all together to bury my mother. We cousins, my first cousins and I, concluded long ago this seems to be the only time the extended-extended family gets together; a sad but true observation.

As I stepped onto the yard of my aunt’s house I was hit with the parallel between the familiarity of the aging house and those whose lives revolved around it. I could hear echoes of our childhood games and laughter as clearly as that of my cousins’ grandchildren. Flashes of memories flooded in from all sides, not just of this house but of our grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins everywhere. Nothing was changed but the names of the players.

You look into faces you used to know, they are familiar enough but the paintbrush of time and the chisel of experience has painted and carved a lifetime upon each one. The eyes looking into yours dart away quickly because they no longer see the person they have held you in their mind to be; you are familiar yet entirely different just as they to you. A sense of camaraderie lingers though we are but strangers who have peeked into snippets of each others lives through tales on the family grapevine. There are the few you have maintained connections with enough to know on a more personal level but those numbers seem to dwindle as the years tick off. You share a few laughs at stories of a common youth and talk about the number of grandchildren with which each has be blessed. Only those in the immediate family of the deceased have their children, now grown, and grandchildren around but they are not familiar enough to you to hit your emotional radar. Beyond the catch up tidbits, conversation is surface level and you find your mind wandering to home and hearth; wishing you were there. You want to leave but the roots of family hold you there a little longer; waiting for something…anything…to make being there more important than the desire to get back to your real life. You wait, you hope and yet it does not come; you are torn in a balancing act between the rare and precious time with the family of your roots and the need to be in your present. Like I said…a mixed bag of emotions.

I am so thankful for the time spent with the family of my past. I’ve never been one that handles goodbyes well. Knowing you are seeing some of these people, your family, for the last time makes that final hug and ‘I love you’ a bittersweet moment. You both promise to call and know neither will in spite of good intentions. They will be caught up in their own world as quickly as you in yours. I drove away fighting back tears that finally spilled over and ran down my face in spite of my resolve. I even wondered what exactly the tears were for. Were they tears of sadness, tears of lost loved ones? Were they tears of regret for not staying closer to people that once played a large role in your life? Were they tears for a lost youth? I decided it did not matter. God can use our tears to cleanse us of indifference and make our hearts more tender; more aware of the pain and suffering around us; more compassionate….more like the heart of Jesus.

When I returned home I knew God used my journey to the past as a teaching tool to make me more useable for His purposes. Sitting with my Honey that evening in our humble abode with our devoted canines snuggled all around, I felt comfortably loved and wanted; I was fulfilled. Nothing says “I Love You” like being in your own Jesus-filled home after a little time travel.

Winter Adventure

As I sit at my computer this morning I am huffing and puffing and my fingers can barely move over the keys because they are cold and stiff from my adventure outside in what our weather man is calling an ‘artic blast’! I have not found the leading from God on subject matter this morning, so I am simply writing off the top of my head; my cold head with numb cheeks.

Today, in our village, is trash day. The wind is howling and literally blowing anything not nailed down; this includes our large, ugly, nasty trash can down on the street….at the bottom of the hill….on the north side….where the wind is the strongest……and coldest.

Looking out my beloved kitchen windows I can see our large, ugly, nasty trash can being moved across the pavement dodging flying objects of unknown origin. Normally, my Honey brings the trash can back up in the afternoon when he returns from work. He just throws it in the back of his little truck and motors on up the hill. Fearing he would have to look on the next block to find it this afternoon, I decided…out of love and consideration for my Honey…..to trudge down the hill and bring it back up while it was still in the vicinity of our driveway.

Being dressed in multiple layers already, this seemed a small task but big in scale in the ‘consideration and love’ category. I LOVE MY MAN! Getting out of the storm door alone should have been notice enough that this was more than I had bargained for because it took considerable effort to push the door open against the northern wind. Door slamming behind me in spite of my best efforts to prevent it, I shoved my hands in the pouch of my sweatshirt that comprised my outer layer. Before I reached the driveway, I had been beaten by the fierce wind but pushed on….now it felt like a challenge.

At the bottom of the hill I up-righted the can, touching it as little as possible but that pesky wind necessitated the up-righting of the can over and over again! Uggg! I looked around for the lid because it was not with the can. I looked and walked the street in both directions looking for said lid. Nothing! My neighbor’s cans and lids where present and accounted for, if not in their place, but ours was not in sight. It did not take long before I decided trash can lids were highly overrated and we didn’t need one anyway!

My trip up the hill with the can in the wind was an effort. The wind repeatedly tried to blow it out of my fingertips…I would not touch it with my whole hand because, well, you know…ugg!!! Finally at the top I was dismayed to see the lid of the trash can. My precious man had not taken it down the hill in the first place! My hunt for the lid turned out to be a wasted effort that produced nothing but cold, stiff fingers. I might have shouted to the heavens but my lungs were screaming at me due to the cold air and accent up the hill fighting the trash can. Not a sound came out of my mouth but, boy, were the thoughts flying around in my head!

In the time it has taken me to write this, I have warmed up considerably and shed the top layer. My fingers are moving across the keyboard with a more normal pace and agility. The huffing and puffing has slowed to an occasional huff and puff and my lungs are no longer screaming at me. All is well in my world once more.

But, Honey, don’t be looking for me to bring that large, ugly, nasty trash can up the hill again. If God had intended for me to shuffle trash cans He would not have given me first brothers then a husband followed by sons and grandsons. Ya gotta love that God is in the details!

Manners Matter - Revisited

Last night we received a phone call from our grandson, Daniel, now 12 1/2 years old. He was passing time and thought to give us a call. Papa John put him on speakerphone so we could both listen. Daniel is an engaging child and we enjoy him. He and his siblings lived with us for several years; a life altering event for one and all.

Two things came up during the conversation that made the hearts of these grandparents proud and thankful. One, Daniel used excellent manners when speaking to us. We are from a time in space where saying "yes, Ma'am and no, Sir" were expected; we passed that on to our children and our children's children. We taught that saying "yeah?" or "what?" when we called their name was unacceptable and, rather than calling out from another room, they were to come to us to see what we wanted. To us, these were basic good manners. The conversation last night showed that Daniel respected us enough to address us with the decorum we instilled even though he is no longer under our roof. Secondly, he talked about he and his brother doing their household chores that day. He said they discussed the fact that they learned to do them the right way because we taught them to and they were glad we had because they would have gotten in trouble had they not. Wow! This brought a tear to my eye. Every now and then you hear something like that and realize you must have done something right once in a while when bring up the children. Those rare moments are nuggets of parenting gold!

As we move into the last few days before Christmas, be aware of your own manners toward others and their's. I'm sharing some thoughts on that subject below. Manners matter, no matter who you are!

Lynn

Manners Matter- Revisited
We now live in a world where your life can be made miserable, sometimes even threatened, if you are not considered 'politically correct'. You may offend one race, religion, ethnic group, political group, short people, tall people, fat people, skinny people, carnivores, vegetarians, vegans, beer drinkers, wine sippers, teetotalers, people living in the north, people living in the south, east coasters, west coasters, mountain dwellers, farmers, motorcyclists, SUV drivers, red scarves, blue scarves, cyclist, runners, joggers, gym goers, yoga enthusiast, rock climbers, chess players, those in gated communities, those in mobile homes, those that pray, those that don't want you to be able to pray, etc, etc, etc........this is but a small list of potential offenses.

My goodness, it is enough to boggle the mind! Who, pray tell, sits around and makes the decisions on what is or isn't politically correct? Do they get paid for this or is it a labor of love? At one time I thought there needed be a book with all the Do's and Don'ts listed but then I realized that could not be possible; who would decide what color the book, the materials the cover would be made of, the language it was written in? Again, the list goes on.

If you want a micro-view of the state of personal interaction in the world, just observe a group of children for a while. I had the opportunity to do so this past weekend and it is not always a pretty sight. The old adage that children learn what they live rings loud and true today! In any restaurant you will find someone among the diners that is oblivious to those around them or simply may not care regardless. So they behave in such a manner that it is obvious they have no consideration for anyone else. This is played out in every school cafeteria across the country.

Perhaps I am showing my age but I believe that manners absolutely DO matter. If people simply used common courtesy and basic good manners, this world would be a better place. Therein lies the problem; what constitutes 'common courtesies and good manners'? Cultural dictations being as diverse as they are make this a mine field of opportunities to misstep. But in our own country, there should be a standard accepted as the norm without fear of being politically incorrect.

When training people for the mission field we are careful to research and teach cultural differences so as to not offend our host countries people. This makes sense. What possible good could we do if we walked around offending people all the time?!

Shouldn't we do as much for our children? I believe, as a nation, we have gone too far in the direction of protecting people's rights to be obnoxious and rude. It becomes dangerous when we protect rights to be demanding and self-serving but do not protects the rights to common courtesy. It will never be important on a national level unless it is taught and expected in every home. I'm not talking about insisting that each child be taught which fork to use in a formal setting, I'm talking about teaching and requiring our children to thoughtful, considerate, compassionate people; requiring more of themselves and passing a heritage of good manners and civilities on to their own children, generation after generation. As it stands now, we are rearing generations of educated savages. If you think that is too strong a comment, go to a school playground at recess.

The state of our children reflects the state of our nation. We have lazy, selfish, unmotivated children with a high level of entitlement that will one day be the leaders of our country. Yes, there are exceptions to the rule but as a whole, we are in trouble. When children are allowed to be rude and ugly to one another, as well as with adults, we are perpetuating a mentality that eats away at the core of moral values. Manners and good behavior starts at home. Etiquette starts there but should continue on throughout a lifetime. When people start treating each other as one person of value and worth to another, then and only then will we have a chance to build the kind of world worthy of passing on.

Manners matter! Pass them on.

The Flip Side

Though I often complain about the hot weather in South Texas, any part of Texas really, there is a flip side to the searing, breathtaking heat. It’s our very long growing season! This is mid-November and I have multiple tomato plants with blooms and tomatoes on them. A rogue squash plant or two coming up in my compost pile, my ‘blessing’ basil plant in the veggie garden is doing so much better than the ones I actually planted in the herb garden. I call all volunteer plants “blessing’ plants. I have several, all types, thriving in the veggie garden this fall. The Swiss chard and mustard greens are beautiful and lush. They are the only thing growing better than the weeds that took hold during the drought.

After years of unsuccessful attempts to grow chile piquin peppers and having tried all forms of sow/growing methods to no avail; I have a ‘blessing’ piquin plant that popped up by itself! This was a delightful treat to discover. My Honey says it will need to be transplanted to a spot where it will have some shade. With any luck at all, it will survive the winter and be hardy enough to transplant in the spring. Since it began as a ‘blessing’ plant, I have high hopes!

Green beans are producing nicely, they are not edible but there are plenty of them. Guess the timing and weather plays a big part in the tough, bitter pods. I’m leaving them to go to seed for next year; they replenish the soil, bonus!

And the big exciting news is that my treasured fig tree has little figs all over it. This poor little tree has survived two years of drought and a shaky start considering it is planted on top of our hill, our rock hill. It’s still barely above knee height; my knees…I’m short, ‘nuff said. So to find it covered in leaves and figs after it dropped all leaves and shriveled during the roughest of summer heat, well, lets just say I give all the credit where credit is due…prayer and the Master Gardener, God.

As with most of my long stories this one does have a point, an analogy, or a modern day parable. In this world we often find ourselves in places and situations we find less than desirable. I love the view from our hilltop vantage point but, because we have that view, we do not have good gardening land and normal soil. Our typical weather is hot to extremely hot nine months out of the year. The other three months, we can vary from fabulous to chilly with moments of actual cold. Towering trees we do not have but we are on the Monarch Butterfly migration path in the fall; they fly directly over our front deck. Too awesome! God-given flip sides.

I’ve said all that to say this: regardless of location or circumstance, regardless of stage we find ourselves in life, in spite of the highest highs and lowest lows that come our way….God holds us in His hands and little miracles, like my blessing plants, come through as if to say, “Behold, I am with you always.”

It's Alive!

We live on a hillside on the southeastern edge of the Hill Country in Texas. One word sums up our one acre yard…rocks. The dirt is shallow, porous and pretty good at growing native vegetation. No grass in my yard but if you’re looking for that sticky weed that sticks to shoelaces and socks, we’ve got ya covered! Our landscaping efforts do okay as long as we stick to the native plants and succulents. I happen to like them, so it is not all bad.

There is an area on the steeper downhill corner of our home where fill materials were boxed in with a retaining wall. It’s between 4 ½ - 5 feet deep. This would be an awesome place to grow something pretty if it had real dirt in it instead of the rocky hard packed mess it is. Thankfully, it is not readily visible. It has been the proverbial thorn in this gardener’s side!

I am determined that, one day; I will have usable dirt in which to plant something lovely in that corner. It became my mission. Can’t dig it out and start over because it is vital to the foundation of our home. No wisdom there. So, it must stay in place. Till then, it might as well be useful. I decided to make that my compost spot.

I cook with a lot fresh veggies, so I am contributing to the compost pile daily. It’s amazing to me the number of things you can compost, turning trash and waste into something good. It’s been a few years now of depositing veggie scraps, coffee grounds, egg shells and various other materials. It’s handy, out of sight and working toward a better end; all good things.

The other day I was out on the hillside deck enjoying a cup of coffee and our awesome view. I meandered to the side that looks over on the compost pile about 4 feet below. For a moment my eyes could not make sense of what they were seeing. It was as if the compost bed was alive! Movement, tiny slight movement everywhere created an optical illusion. Then my brain sorted it out and I realized the entire bed was covered in butterflies! They were making a meal stop on the smorgasbord that was my compost pile! It was beautiful. Such a God thing!

The Master Gardener takes the hard hearts of people and turns them into useful, good soil in which He can grow beauty, kindness and love. He takes the trash and gunk from our lives and works it all together for His greater purposes. I’ve witnessed that in my own life! Others benefit from this miraculous change and the cycle of seed time and harvest continues to produce in the lives of His people.

The butterflies certainly looked as if they were delighted about the food source they found. My family has reaped rewards as well. We were shocked and excited to find an abundance of cherry tomatoes vines cascading down the side of the retaining wall a couple of years ago. Not only were they beautiful but loaded with delicious tomatoes. At this moment in time, late October, we have at least six tomato plants thriving and a vine, possibly squash or cantaloupe springing up. It’s too early to tell what it is but the testimony of the fact it even exists is remarkable. We’ll just keep doing our part and see what God has in store for us.

Fall in Love with Autumn

Fall or autumn, call it what you like, is my favorite time of year. I guess I should qualify that; LATE Fall is more accurate. In most of Texas, we rarely get to see seasonal changes that a lot of the country takes for granted. I have a mental seasonal change in autumn.

Fall brings a barrage of scents, colors and textures that stir emotions deep inside me. I have not found the key to why that happens but I don’t care. I just love that it happens. I love that I can actually spend time outdoors for more than a few minutes at a time. The sun is not my best friend but autumn allows me more freedom and time to soak up nature. Nothing is more comforting and basic to me than walking in the woods this time of year. Even later when all the leaves that have fallen are crunchy underfoot, these walks renew and invigorate me.

Chilly air brings out my inner child. The girl that ran and played peeks outside my grandmotherly face and tugs at memories long tucked away. Memories such as walking along side my grandfather; he made up songs about anything he saw to make me laugh. They never made much sense but we enjoyed them.

The smell of chicken and dumplings simmering on the stove can warm you to your toes though the wind howls and swirls beyond the steamy windows. A mug of apple cider with a cinnamon stick can not be resisted. A favorite fuzzy robe makes snuggling on the couch more relaxing. Pumpkin pie scented candles warm a room with just their tiny flame.

Autumn also brings my favorite holiday, Thanksgiving. I’ve written before about Friday being my dedicated day to look back at all the Lord has done in my life that week and give thanks for each thing. Daily prayers should begin with words of thanksgiving. So, for me, Thanksgiving Day is the ultimate holiday because people all over are giving thanks and I see in my spirit’s eye a tender vision of how the Lord might look hearing prayers of thanks from people He might not hear from on a regular basis. A harvest of souls praying for the harvests in their lives! A spontaneous chorus of thanks ringing out when families gather and bow heads together! Oh, my! Gives me goose bumps!! Yes, Thanksgiving is most certainly my favorite holiday and it comes in my favorite time of year.

What’s not to love and be thankful for about this special time of year?

Onward Thru the Fog - Revisited

On a recent weekend morning, upon waking, I was startled by how bright the sun was as it poured in my kitchen windows; I thought it was still early. My eyes are not use to waking up to sunlight, I’m typically a very early riser; darkness still abounds. Stumbling into the kitchen for that first cup of nectar of the gods, coffee, I was honestly startled by the glowing brightness. I then became a bit concerned about just HOW late it must be but it was only a little after 7, so that confused me even more. I confuse easily before coffee. To add to the confusion, when I looked out a living room window I saw it was very foggy! HUH!!?? It was so foggy I could barely see the outline of the house across the street.

OK, now my curiosity has surpassed the confusion and I headed out the front door to examine this craziness from our deck's vantage point. Yes, indeed, it was quite foggy, rather mysterious and surreal looking out over the valley in front of me like something from a hobbit movie. Yet, turn ever so slightly toward the east and the glow was overwhelming! It was awesome.

The first thought in my now less confused head was, "Isn't that just like God!!" We can be shrouded in foggy situations/problems/sins that seem all encompassing but God is still shining on all around us; even when we can't see His light. The glowing brightness that is God never goes away, we just focus on the fog.

I smiled that smile, you know, the one that always comes on our faces when we see a rainbow. You can't help yourself; you always smile that little comforting smile of reassurance because we know the promise that comes along with that rainbow. Maybe, just maybe, the next time you're in a fog, (whatever kind of fog it may be) you'll think about the glowing brightness that is all around and take comfort in knowing it's there even if you can't see it. You'll smile that little smile and walk on because of the promise HE is always there!

Love/Hate Procrastination?

I have a Love /Hate relationship with procrastination. This seems to be a common malady. You can get all kinds of books and articles on how to stop being a procrastinator. It seems no one applauds the upside of procrastination. Just for the sake of this article, we are looking at the bright side and acknowledging the positive aspects of Procrastination.

Procrastination is always looking out for your future. As a procrastinator you will always something to look forward to because the things you are putting off today will be waiting for you tomorrow….or the next day….or next month even. You don’t have to worry about what you will be doing because you can rest comfortably in the knowledge that it will be familiar stuff you’ve been looking at and saving for that proverbial rainy day.

Procrastination opens the door for variety in your life. Some procrastination is not chosen but dictated to us, rather like the prolonged kitchen remodel we’ve had going on. Circumstances have required that this be a slow…er, thoughtful process. Decisions made have plenty of time for change when you’re not getting around to implementing them quickly. Since we’re looking at the up side of procrastination we will focus on the…oh, let’s call it ‘opportunity’ to reconsider options. A fine example would be the wall color choice(s) I’ve made for the kitchen area. The initial plan did not call for a change in wall color. Then, necessity required us to change the countertop we had selected to something a bit more economically attainable. This dictated changing the color on the painted cabinets, which now no longer went with the wall color. So, many…many wall colors samples later….see variety!

Procrastination teaches you to be flexible. I am not an impulsive person. In fact, I probably think about things too long. Add to that my tendency to plan things to the point of being ridiculous and you’ve got one non-impulsive person. Procrastination would seem to be a fine companion for the impulse challenged such as myself. I do not enjoy shopping unless it is for my house (or grandkids). I have put things in my shopping cart, wheeling them around the store, only to put things back on the shelf and walk out having not purchased one single thing. I prefer to think of this as a good thing. I had a friend tell me once that I would shop myself right out of everything I ever wanted. She may have been on to something because I can not tell you how many times I have returned to said store to finally purchase the items I wanted only to discover they no longer were available. So, I’d have to start the whole process all over again and find something else. See…teaches you to be flexible.

Procrastination encourages patience. With the aid of procrastination, you develop fine tuned waiting skills. Always putting off getting started on what ever; lack of action builds tolerance for status quo and patience by not having things change quickly. In what may seem like conflicting traits, I love change yet have a high tolerance (in some areas) and patience in waiting for things I want. I believe procrastination plays a big part of that. Not starting something makes it easier to wait for it to be finished.

This tongue in cheek look at procrastination shows that, although it gets a bad rap most of the time, there are positive aspects if you look hard enough and tilt your head a bit to the right.

You can’t hate the wait when you procrastinate!

To Catch a Thief

As I sit writing this, I am wearing one shoe. No, I’m not trying to start a new fashion statement; I’m just trying to hang on to my shoe! We have a new puppy, Pan Dulce. (Long story on his name, that’s for another day.) He’s a precocious little thing that entertains us regularly with his antics. The hardest day can be washed away by simply sitting on the couch and watching the puppy power show!

It seems he has a scandalous scavenger streak…largely for my things. The missing shoe in question is not a big deal as far as a loss would go. It’s one of those rubber Croc shoes. They were the first things he started making off with the day we brought him home. They are light weight, easily towed by the mini-pirate. We thought it was so sweet, he’d make off with one and take it to his bed and snuggle up with it as he napped. Who could be irritated by that?! The baby loves me!

His scavenging ways have gained momentum as he has settled in more, feeling his Wheaties! Today, as I worked on the computer, I could hear a theft in progress. I couldn’t see him but I could hear him! Plop, plop, thud…plop, plop, thud…plop, plop,thud… sounds of Pan Dulce in action. When he finally appeared in the room, he was struggling to drag my Honey’s flip flop. It was bigger than he is and far heavier. They are that hard rubber kind, not the light Croc stuff like mine. The plop, plop part was him attempting to lift the flip flop in a forward motion. The thud part was him hitting his head as he flipped over the shoe head first. Amazing!

Tonight at dinner, I slipped off my shoes (leather strappy sandals) as I normally do to sit cross legged in my chair. I’m short, my feet do not go all the way to floor…what can I say? Anyway, no sooner had I slipped off the last one and had not even gotten the second leg crossed in my lap when our petite pirate came dashing out from under the table with the first shoe. A mad dash back and he made the return trip with shoe #2. Hey, I LIKE those shoes…come back here! ‘No way, Mamacita,’ his guilt-free glance told me. I guess he felt safe under the protection of his chuckling daddy!

Uh oh, that didn’t sound good……

OK, NOW I’VE HAD ENOUGH! As I sit here wearing one shoe to write about our precious little puppy burglar, I see the all too familiar flash of fur dashing across the livingroom. Then I hear a clunk. No plop, plop thud…but a hard clunk. This needed investigating! To my horror the little scoundrel had procured one of my awesome new sexy red heels!! These are the sexiest shoes, not to mention most expensive shoes, I’ve ever owned and the puppy is taking one to who-knows-where!! This ceases to be a funny game now! It’s not so cute when it’s a delicate red heel instead of a clunky Croc!!

Retrieving my ravishing red beauty, I quickly made my way to my bedroom to assess the state of its mate. It was with great relief to see the other red beauty under the bed where I foolishly thought they were safe. I reached down to pick up my prized heel and low and behold, my missing Croc was abandoned next to it…probably left behind in exchange for the more tempting red one.

Note to self….limit Pan Dulce’s access to bedroom. Ah, yet another baby gate to step over… the things we do all for the love of a puppy!

Pan Dulce, shoe thief

This is the Day....

"This is a day the Lord has made and we shall be glad and rejoice in it!"

These are the words I spoke when I woke this morning. I like to say these words every morning. I'm hearing scripture as the first sounds of my day.

Still, it doesn't take long for things to get out of kilter. When we put God first in our mornings, things typically go better the rest of the day. However, trouble finds us where ever we may be, even in the darkness before sunrise in a sleepy household. The confusion this morning was brought on because I had not followed my routines; I was doing things out of my usual order and that was throwing me out of whack.

Our household routines in running the home give us a much nicer place to be. Sadly, we as a family are out of whack and not functioning as smoothly as we could be because we have gotten off the routine wagon, if you will. We still cling to some tenaciously, but make excuses for the ones we don't get done.

Our faith walk is like that, confusion comes when we step out of the order of the Lord. Isn't that the way it is with life? We would rather focus on what we have done rather than own the things we have not. We make excuses for not going to church, even though the Bible tells us to have regular fellowship with other believers. We make excuses for not tithing because we have to pay more bills this week. We make excuses for our behavior because we don't want to admit, even to ourselves, that NO, Jesus would NOT be acting the way we are. We make choices that step out of the Lord's order and then wonder why things get crazy.

The thing is, the Lord doesn't move somewhere else, WE step out of line. If you're not feeling the peace of the Lord today, I highly recommend you look at your choices and see where you got off the path of God. It's not a fun task but a necessary one. I crave that peace and I'm the only one that can put myself back on His path; abandoning my poor choices, admitting my mistakes, repenting as I go and stepping out once again in the ways of the Lord. My prayer for each of us today is that we take those steps and walk in God’s peace!

Breakfast of Champions

I happen to like fish for breakfast. A little Ocean Perch revs up the morning for me! Many of my friends and family find this odd but I find fish to be an excellent breakfast food. I usually buy two pounds of the perch at a time; steaming half of it with some Old Bay seasoning to use in omelets and scrambled eggs. Then the other half I simply sear in a hot cast iron skillet to relish its flaky texture in every bite. I love fish anytime but fish for breakfast is nurturing for me.

The word ‘breakfast’ is a compound word which simply means, according to Webster, ‘to break fast.’ The fasting is done at night while we sleep. So, breakfast would be anything we consumed first. This discourse is not about the virtue of eating breakfast; although I did have the privilege of having two grandmothers that thought you would surely perish and the world would come to an end if you did not have a large breakfast. That’s another kettle of fish….

We are predisposed by the culture and tradition in which we are raised to find things acceptable; apparently, fish for breakfast in America falls outside that norm. There are exceptions, like me, of course. I bet you can find the camper/fisherman that relishes a freshly caught fish cooked over a camp fire beside a lake in the early morning. Sounds yummy to me! Makes me drool to even contemplate that!

Many cultures find this commonplace and would probably laugh at our American noses wrinkled at fish for breakfast. If you recall, fish for breakfast is Scriptural ….well, it is written IN scripture. Jesus, Himself, cooked fish for breakfast for the Disciples. Fishing for them was done overnight and Jesus greeted them in the morning with fish over a campfire on the beach. If it’s good enough for Jesus…….

We tend to get locked in to a routine of familiarity and anything outside that comfort zone is not for us. Sad, that! My husband asked for eggs this morning. I was happy to oblige his request. Before I could walk into the kitchen, he was saying he only wanted scrambled eggs with tortillas. This meant he wanted to make egg tacos. We were out of tortillas and this ruined the whole thing for him. He did not want eggs without taco potential.

But fish for breakfast? One morning I presented him with a plate that had scrambled eggs, tortillas, refried beans and steamed fish. The look on his face was priceless. Not wanting to be rude and hurt my feelings, he proceeded to eat...very slowly. This was common breakfast food for my King of Tacos; all but the fish, of course. I bet if I had fried the fish and smothered it in the dreaded ketchup he would have had a whole ‘nuther attitude! Let’s just say he will have to ease into accepting fish as the breakfast of champions.

Take a Chance on Change

One credo defining my life is “The only thing that doesn’t change is the fact that things are going to change.” Change is inevitable yet so many of us resist it as if we had a choice in the matter. We do not; things are going to change whether we like it or not. Might as well embrace it.

For someone that sees change as exciting, I have a hard time understanding those that avoid it. Some even fear change. My mother was one that feared change to the point of being paralyzed into lack of action. She was not alone in that mentality.

In the check out at the grocery store the other day the clerk commented on some colorful sweet peppers I was buying. She said she always wanted to try them. I told her I loved the little things; they made the food look appealing by virtue of their color, were healthy, inexpensive and tasted good to boot. Sounds like a good deal all the way around, doesn’t it? So I wonder why this woman, who by the way could actually see the peppers from her work station, never tried them even though they intrigued her so. My bet is fear of change kept her tied to her normal, usual grocery list and away from anything new or different. The peppers were $2.58, not a large investment toward change but it was the personal cost of change, and not the price of the peppers that kept her away…that’s my guess.

Having lunch at a friend’s house the other day, I was astounded when she said she had the same wallpaper in her kitchen for twenty-eight years. This makes my head spin with the question, “Why?!!” She didn’t really know why; she thought perhaps it could be that she just never wanted to tackle the job of changing it. Hmmm….

Making a change in your world requires taking a chance, the risk of making a bad choice, committing to stepping out on unfamiliar ground. Granted, some changes in life, such as the loss of a loved one, are not good but most changes in life are not nearly so dramatic and if you do not like the outcome, change it again!

Daughter #1 says she is not worried about us should a tornado come our way because the sheer number of layers of paint I’ve applied would hold the house together. She might be right. Painting is an easy, quick fix for those of us that need change on a regular basis. I once did a complex seven step wall treatment in one of our bedrooms. I loved it! Then the grandchildren came to live with us and my beautiful exotic walls were too stimulating for young children to sleep in. I had to paint over it. My guess is that room CAN withstand a tornado. But the point is, changes were needed to fit our lives at that time so changes were made. Life changed again and the children no longer live here. Yes, I have painted that room once more but not the seven step process I used before. I have changed; I’m older now and not nearly as excited about all the climbing of the ladder required.

In change we can find a new appreciation for things that might have become so commonplace that we do not even see them anymore. Just as a new outfit makes you feel good, changes can add a spark to ‘the usual.’ It doesn’t take big changes to make a big impact. Rearrange the furniture or try a different route home from work for new scenery. Make a new recipe for dinner. Edit decor accessories.

Life in and of itself is constantly changing; it is neither static nor stagnant. It ebbs and flows like the tide. Yes, there are constants we need in life. God is one of them. He is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. But the world around us was created by God and it is an awesome example of constant change. The sunrise this morning will be different than the one yesterday and will not look like the one tomorrow.

It is said, variety is the spice of life. I believe that. Take a chance, shake things up and pepper life with small changes. Life without change, like food without salt, can be a little bland.

The Things We Do

I’ll admit right off the bat; I am a creature of habit. I have ingrained patterns I follow without as much as a thought. If I were an animal, this might be called instinct but as it is, it is just habitual patterns I have created for myself.

For instance, I walk around when I talk on the phone. Even if I happen to be working at the time, I get up from my desk and walk around. Somewhere along the way I decided that I was wasting time and being unproductive if I was on the phone so I started walking in order to be doing something worthwhile. Walking is healthy and I certainly could use more activity in my life. So I walk.

I follow the same path every time. I usually start by walking around the kitchen island, into the living room, down the hall to make a U-turn and back up the hall, around the couches in the middle of the room, past the kitchen going into my bedroom to make another U-turn, back into the kitchen area where I started in the first place. I walk the entire time I’m on the phone. It is not uncommon for me to get winded because of all the walking I do. I don’t measure the length of my calls in minutes; I measure by the stage of breathlessness I reach before I hang up.

I have a friend that gets after me and reminds me to sit down from time to time. My phone walk is not a gentle meandering; it’s walking a fast clip. It’s pointless though. Even if I do sit down I pop back up without even realizing it and start the trek all over again. It’s silly, it’s like my bottom refuses to sit on a chair or the couch as long as the phone is touching my ear. Pavlov’s dog has nothing on me!!!

This morning I called a friend in hopes she might remember a conversation we had previously; I had shared something about which I wanted to write. As we talked, I began my ritualistic jaunt. Somewhere along the way, I lost my coffee cup.

I have a favorite coffee cup I prefer to use every morning…..another habit I might point out. But, like my walking phone conversations, this habit was birthed out of what I considered a logical matter. I had hand surgery last year and this cup is a light weight china cup that is not too heavy for my hand. It has a leopard print all over it, so you would think it would be easy to spot. Not so! I continued the walk as I looked for it. I take the same path every time so I felt confident it would be along the usual route somewhere. After making several rounds, I started getting a bit frustrated. My cup was nowhere to be seen. I didn’t want any more coffee at this point; I just wanted to know what happened to my stinking cup!

I explained my dilemma to my friend and we verbally walked through my route as I looked once more. Then it occurred to me to check in the master bath on that leg of the journey. Lo and behold, there it was on the bathroom counter! I had stopped in on an earlier lap to see if I had something in my eye; consequently, leaving my coffee cup. I had deviated from my routine only slightly and disrupted my habitual pattern. Good heavens! That's sad. Wanting to settle my now stressed mind, I need a cup of my favorite British tea, which I drink out of a favorite china tea cup (Hmmm, see a pattern?) but it's not my normal tea time. Oh, dear, what have I become?

The things we do...........

Rolling With the Flow

Fresh off of vacation, I’m thankful to be settling back into the more familiar routine of my daily life. The down time was great (except for computer illnesses) and I enjoyed the time with my Honey but somehow I always felt like I was waiting for something. Not sure what, just waiting……..maybe I was waiting to get back to normal. Whatever that is.

I missed the writing most! I just cannot write when my Honey is around. No matter how quiet he tries to be, even if he’s just sitting on a couch minding his own business…my mind’s eye follows him. Accustomed to being alone during the day, just having someone else around is distracting to my writing efforts. Maybe it’s lack of self-discipline on my part. I don’t know, but regardless, I’m happy to be back.

Yesterday was the last official day of vacation. My Honey opted to spend that day in ‘slug mode’. We stayed in our jammies all day, ate when and what we felt like, watched movies, took naps and just reveled in our slugdom. It was good.

Today it felt awesome to don work clothes and shoes and head to the computer. I’m looking forward to productive writing time. I pulled out and dusted off my writing business plan; placed it at eye level on the wall from a sitting at the computer view point. I think we need to remind ourselves from time to time that we have goals to which we aspire, helps us stay on track. However, as I sit here in my home office, I can hear the siren songs of all things needing my attention. Don’t they realize I have on my work shoes? Leave me alone and let me be creative!

Perhaps I am fighting a losing battle this morning. Maybe my mind would be free to write if I were not bogged down by all the nagging “To-Do’s”. Life just requires attention whether we want it to or not. My time may best be served by surrendering MY PLANS and taking care of the business of life today so I can be mentally unencumbered tomorrow. I’ll order the medications; get caught up on laundry, stock the fridge and pantry and just get our home life back on track. That is as much my job as writing.

New plan…..honor today as Transition Day.