Joy

At the end of the day, the one thing that mattered most was the big red bow.

The day of Elli's Christmas program found us all running late.  Her mommy asked me to fix her hair and so I grabbed the Christmas gift wrap ribbon and fastened it in her hair.  She ran to the mirror and declared: "I look like a big present!"  She was happy and excited and so was I.

We arrived at school a few minutes late.  The day was cold, but my little granddaughter ran into the school quickly, and I promised I would see her soon at the program.  I was nearly first in line with the other proud parents and grandparents.  I stood for fifteen minutes and then sat another thirty minutes while the excitement in the school gym mounted.  There was standing room only, and it seemed that most people had cameras in their hands as the 9:30 start time neared.  The anticipation was palpable. 

Then it happened.  The sound of bells echoed through the old gym as nearly two hundred pre-schoolers and kindergartners entered the room marching down each side while ringing their very own jingle bells.  I could find Elli easily because, of course, I was watching for the big red bow.  After all the children entered, the curtain opened, and there in front of us were all those sweet smiling baby faces.  For most of us there, I am certain, our eyes were focused on the one child that was special to us.

As all those little faces looked out at us, I must admit that a tear filled my eye.  I thought of all of the love that was in the room right at that moment.  I thought back to other Christmases when each of my four children's little faces had been looking at me in that very same school gym.  I was sitting close enough that I could hear my little Elli tell her friend that she could see her Grandma.  The moment was etched in my heart as the highlight of my day.

Oh, the day was not an easy day by any means.  An important doctor visit and news of a potential heart procedure were part of the day.  A long drive in rush hour traffic was part of the day.  Cold winter weather was part of the day.  Hurt feelings in the family were part of the day.  Sadness and anxiety were part of the day.  Tears and pain were part of the day.  Fear and uncertainty were part of the day.

In the end, however, when my mind and body quieted from the busy day, it was joy I felt. Somehow in my mind, the over-riding thought was the big red bow. 

And so it was on the 15th of December, ten days before Christmas 2009, that I received the gift God wanted me to have this season.  He wanted me to remember that no matter what--no matter how messed up the world is or how messed up I am--or how messed up relationships can be--there is joy because He sent His Son to replace all the hurts the world can throw at us.  His love for me became flesh 2000 years ago so that I could rest in Him at the end of each long day.

Yes, this Christmas, when I think of the tiny baby Jesus in a manger, I will see his little swaddling clothes all wrapped up with a big red bow.   And I will know that I have been blessed beyond comprehension.  I will be reminded once again that Jesus is the best present ever given. 

Thank you dear Heavenly Father for your gift of joy to me and all mankind. 
May the anticipation with which all the loved ones waited to see their little children sing holiday music in the old school gym pale in comparison with the anticipation with which we wait for your Son this Advent season.  Amen 

Joy to the World!

November

Darkness drifts in around four in the afternoon these days.                                           

Sale ads clog the newspaper.

Holiday events are filling my social calendar.

It is the end of November...and I feel sad.                                         

Oh, this November has been filled with stressful events it is true....but then again, isn't life, simply stated, a series of stressful events?  Yes, it is a rambling writing I find myself doing this last day of November. 

I am sad that the time of saying good-bye to my dear mother-in-law is officially over.  She died one month ago today...peacefully leaving this life as she slept one morning.

Planning where to have the memorial, and then planning all of the details took up most of the month.  My brother-in-law staying with us for a week was an amazing time of reminiscing and getting to know each other better.  Seeing extended family at a lovely memorial service was so sweet and so special.  Receiving love, support and care from many friends and family was a blessing.  Celebrating the Thanksgiving holiday and the remembrance of my in-laws 70th wedding anniversary were touching November events.  Shopping on Black Friday for a new purple Christmas dress for Elli, and then finishing up all of the holiday left-overs yesterday culminated the seemingly endless month.  All of the events came and went and were acknowledged appropriately, but now it is today...and now what?

I feel so sad.

No doubt recovering from surgery during the time of bereavement has been a strain on me.  Recovery is just plain hard work anymore.  I don't bounce back quite so easily.  And certainly cardiac concerns, stress tests, Holter monitors during this time have added stress...or...could it be...the times, the events...have created the cardiac concerns.  I will see what the doctor tells me when I visit him this afternoon.

My mother-in-law lived in Florida for the past many years.  I did not talk to her very often, but I knew she was there and I knew how much she meant to my family...of course...especially to her son, my husband.  He talked to her several times a day.  When my father-in-law died in February, it seemed that grieving was somewhat easier than it is now.  Now the grieving for both of them just seems hard.  I believe that they are together in heaven with their Lord.  I do not grieve without hope--but oh how I grieve.

We have looked at hundreds of photos over the past weeks...photos dating back into the 1800's.  Moments in time--moments in the lives of those who have gone before--shuffled around on the dining room table.  Is it possible to take in so much emotion at once?

Why is it that we think just because a person had a long life and a peaceful death that it won't hurt so much when they are gone?  I think we just try to convince ourselves of silly things like that in an attempt to accomodate the huge loss we feel.  Maybe if we say something is not so bad, we will be able to handle things better....maybe...maybe not.

It is November.  It is a gray day.  The house is silent.  I have many tasks I could choose to do.  Instead I sit at the computer hoping to make sense of the saddness I feel.

So far, it is not working.

Oh, how I miss you Mom...

Empathy

Walking through the halls of the DCAM, as it is called, I made observations.  The medical center is a place that I frequent quite often, and I can't help but think of the people I meet who frequent the place as well.

I am a perpetual patient, yesterday visiting three different clincs within the Duchossois Center for Advanced Medicine at the University of Chicago.  There was a post-op visit in the ortho clinic and a pre-op visit in the ENT clinic, and then I accompanied Mr. Jorie as he had a consultation in the neurology clinic. 

Gratefully now I can walk independently and make my way up and down the elevators and in and out of the parking garage without the aid of an assistive device. I count my blessings as I observe many people who are not as fortunate as myself...and I always wonder what the world looks like through their eyes.

The young woman and her service animal, a huge and beautiful greyhound, sat next to me in the neurology clinic.  She told me that she had MS and her dog, which she had trained herself, assisted her with her balance and helped her compensate for her lack of peripheral vision.  She was happy and seemed delighted to tell me "her story."  I wondered what the world looked like through her eyes.

Her father continued talking with me after the young woman left the waiting area.  He told me how proud of her he was and continued on with her story, telling me that she visited hospitals and nursing homes with her dog...the patients did not need to sit up or get out of bed because the dog was tall enough to put his head right up on their laps.  I wondered what the world looked like through the father's eyes.

A middle-aged mom and dad entered the neurology clinic waiting area with their teenage daughter who was permanently wheelchair bound.  They looked intent as they studied the papers in their hands.  Their daughter looked at me rather blankly and then I smiled at her.  It took her a moment, but she smiled a great big crooked smile back at me.  I wondered what the world looked like through her eyes and through the eyes of her parents who would care for her every need always.

In the ENT clinic I waited patiently and observed other people as they came and went.  In came a woman in a wheelchair being pushed presumably by her husband.  She wore a mask over her mouth and nose and her head hung low.  He looked tired.  I wondered what their world looked like.  I wondered if she had a chronic illness and he was her caregiver, or perhaps she was only temporarily ill and would be well soon.  I wondered if she could take care of him if the tables were turned.

I wondered about the mom pushing her child in a wheelchair.  The youngster looked as if he had cerebral palsy.  I wondered about the mom who was walking behind her six-year-old daughter, another apparent victim of cerebral palsy.  The happy child walked awkwardly and her mother had to tell her to watch where she was going so she would not run into people.  I wondered what the moms had thought about when they were pregnant with their children...and I wondered what they thought about each night when they fell into bed exhausted.

I wondered about the woman in the elevator who wore a scarf over her bald head, and I wondered about the vacant look on the person who accompanied her.  I wondered about the old man in the wheelchair who wore oxygen.  His IV bag hung on the pole of the chair above him.  I wondered about the woman who could only take tiny steps.  I watched her labor to walk as she left the ortho waiting area.


Patients and family members alike--we all roamed the halls of the big city hospital.  How did we look to each other?  What had brought us to the medical center?  What were we hoping when we came and what were we thinking when we left?


I never leave the medical center quite the same person as when I came.  I have been given information from my doctors that often impacts my physical well-being and my outlook for the future.  I may have been told things that will change my life.  However, often the most profound feelings I have when I leave the medical center are the thoughts and emotions I have experienced as I looked at all the people who have shared the day at the DCAM with me.   

I wonder what the world looks like to them.

Do you think they wonder what the world looks like to me?

Do you think we crossed paths for a reason?

Expectations

What do you do when your expectations have not been met...

...when you feel that someone has let you down...

...when you are disappointed in yourself for hoping against hope that things would be different...

What do you do?

Do you ask yourself if there is something you should have done or should have said differently?  Do you run things over and over in your mind?  Do you try to forget the hurt?  Do you place blame? 

Oh dear, oh dear...oh woe is me. 

No!

I refuse to be discouraged over things which I have no control.  Instead I will be grateful for what I have.  I will live and love.  I will chalk this one up, and find today to be just glorious.  I will choose to stop the loop in my brain that would bring me down.  And when I stop it, I will replace it with moments of delight that the day has brought. 

I will go to God and lay it all at His feet.

That's what I will do.

Oh yes, and I will forgive and keep on loving....and of course keep on hoping....there's always hope. 

Light is so much better than darkness.

It's good to be 62 and be so wise.

Happy Birthday to me.                                               

September

Try to remember the kind of September when grass was green and grain was yellow...




...oh, how I loved that song when I first heard it--in fact I still do.




And here it is already--the last day of September 2009.




This September has been especially beautiful, with mild days and slightly cool evenings.  The cicadas singing the day away, and the flowers in my planters still in bloom seem like a bonus.  There have been a few rainy days, but those gray days just served to brighten up the lawns again, keeping them green a bit longer.  Although I know that fall is upon us, I have truly enjoyed September.  It has been summer's little bonus for me this year.




Maybe this simple pleasure will last me all the way through the winter to come, but no matter what, September days have been glorious, and they have made me happy.




Happy is good.


I hope you are there too on this last day of September 2009....


...in that happy, contented place.

Reminiscing

There it was again...another one of those "life just doesn't get any better than this" spontaneous moments.

Late summer, special little girl, flowered pink dress, grapes in the grass...

...you get the picture...and what a precious picture it is.  Do you think Elli will remember the moment? 

I have been thinking since writing my previous post that, in spite of my dreary ramblings then, my memory has indeed been a wonderful thing.  I have been blessed to collect a garden of precious moments myself. 

Just a few I thought of today:

-the excitement of delivering a May Day basket to my friend when I was just Elli's age-

-the joy of sitting on my bed listing a series of letters I had learned in first grade, while my big brother told me the made-up words I was making-

-how beautiful I felt on Christmas Eve when my Grandpa saw me coming down the staircase-

-how happy I was to get my first two-wheeler-

Oh, those are just a few happy moments from my childhood, which are forever etched in my mind.

And I cannot neglect moments from my grown-up life either, such as:

-the moment I first told Mr. Jorie that I loved him...we were on the campus of ISU close to the fine arts building-

-the joy and fulfillment I felt when I found out I was pregnant with my first child following years of infertility...appropriately, my friend Lonna was with me-

-the moment that I realized God had carried me through an intensely serious medical crisis-

-how I felt the first time I held my granddaughter and then my grandson-

No doubt I could sit at my computer for days on end and remember with joy and love the good times of my life. And perhaps that thought is what I will focus on, even though my memory is able to bring up those sad and difficult times of life.  I can choose to let those painful thoughts come and go quickly, and  I can use them to help me realize how beautiful, and how numerous, the happy memories are. 

There are so many moments each day worth cherishing.  I will continue to look for those...

...those precious "grapes in the grass" moments.

Forgetfulness

Why is it that I can remember when I fell and scraped my knee while on the way to my friend Sandy's house when I was five, but I can't remember why I walked from the bedroom into the kitchen?


Why is it that I can remember how I felt when my sixth grade teacher wrongly accused me of cheating, but I can't remember where I put my purse?


Why is it that I can remember how lonely I felt when my college roommate went home for the year, but I can't remember why I stopped at Walgreen's?


Why is it that I can remember the pain of a dislocated hip and the horrible incompetence surrounding my care, but I can't remember a simple word when it is on the tip of my tongue?


Why is it that I can remember how I felt when my children didn't get along, but I can't remember which street I meant to turn onto?




Of course there is that short-term memory thing all of us Baby Boomers are becoming too familiar with, but there is more to it than that.


Oh how I wish I could choose what to remember and what to forget.

I would not hold onto all of those painful experiences any more if I could just wish them away.

And of course, I would remember where I put my keys so as not to become frustrated with myself for being so stupid.

But life isn't like that is it? Memories of hurts tend to stay with us. But I suppose what is important is how we handle those thoughts that haunt us.

If someone has wronged me, I eventually get to that place of forgiveness, but I think God lets me remember the situation so I can grow in wisdom.

And, as for looking for the keys--God must certainly be teaching me patience.

Where am I going with the thoughts in my blog today? Oh, you see, I have already forgotten...


...bless you for remembering to read my wanderings and my wonderings.

...and bless you for remembering to remember me with love just the same as I remember you.

Babyhood

Satin and Pink

Today I found my baby book which had been packed away for many years. With a slight musty smell and pages a bit yellowed, the sixty-one year old book rested in my lap.

As I began to open the cover, the person who came to mind was my dear mother.

She is the person who purchased the book and wrote in it, keeping meticulous records of height and weight, family linage, first words, immunizations, accidents and illnesses, places visited...and of course the photographs of a baby girl and then a toddler girl and then a kindergarten girl.

What was my mother thinking when she was pregnant with me? The war had just ended, my Daddy was home and a little boy (my big brother) already filled the house with laughter and fun.

I know she was hoping for a baby girl. She has told me so. The year was 1947 and she often tells the story that I was actually six weeks late in coming...due in August, but not born until October.

As I paged through the book I thought of her and her hopes and dreams for me when I was just a tiny new person. I can imagine the love she felt when she first held me because I have held my own newborns. I know just how she felt dressing me in a pretty, soft pink dress because I have three daughters of my own. I can indeed imagine the hopes and dreams she had for me, because of course, some things never change, but rather go on from generation to generation.

A small envelope with a locket of my hair fell from the book. It was such a strange feeling to touch and see the hair that was mine when I was so young. I pictured my mother trimming the little curl from a squiggly little girl. The thought made me smile. I can just see her searching for the tiny envelope and then labeling it, "Linda's hair 18 months."

A surreal feeling came over me as I realized how priviledged I am to be the fulfillment of her longings for a girl to love and raise. I hope that I have indeed been worthy of that love and have been able to pass that love on to my children and now my grandchildren.

I know that whenever she thinks of me she sees beauty. She tells me so. I am blessed to have her so near and I am blessed to have her so able and lovely at age 86. And you know, whenever I think of her I see beauty. Oh, the circle of life is an amazing thing isn't it.

Chubby knees and baby teeth, big brown eyes and dresses with lace, rosey cheeks and teddy bears, lullabies and a rocking chair, first words and first steps, hair ribbons and baby dolls--the dreams for a baby girl complete. I feel the joy today that my mother must have felt when she kept this special book about me, just for me. I imagine it was one of the most delightful tasks of her young motherhood. I wonder if she can imagine just how much her record keeping now means to me.

Thanks Mother Dear for being so dear.

Thanks for dreaming, thanks for loving, thanks for holding, thanks for caring...

... and thanks for all the memories...the ones in the old satin book and the ones in my heart.

I love you and I love being your baby girl.

Contentment

Do you have those moments?

Do you have those moments when you know that life is just as good as it gets?

I had one of those moments today while watching two little girls share a cupcake on my front porch.

The moments where I feel the most contentment are glimpses of something so pure that I am aware of a feeling of peace deep inside of myself and with life in general.

These moments may be at the time of a celebration. A recent moment I remember was on the day my daughter graduated with her master's degree. I looked down at her newborn son asleep on my lap, with a soft pale baby blue blanket snuggled around him, and I knew that this was absolutely one of those "life just doesn't get any better than this" moments.

More often I find that these special moments just appear at the most surprising times, not necessarily at a celebration or holiday. The one today with the cupcake was a moment of pure sweetness. There was only one cupcake and it needed to be shared. Breaking it apart caused it to crumble in my hands as two little girls each excitedly grabbed parts of chocolate cake with white icing and of course sprinkles. I licked icing from my fingers and my soul smiled. The moment came and went quickly, but it was worth a million dollars.

Other times I have declared under my breath, "life just doesn't get any better than this" when my world is chaotic and spinning with lots of activity. A time when the family was gathered together recently following a busy day, with out-of-town relatives joining the local group was just such a time. That special moment came when my youngest daughter sat down on her chair and it collapsed beneath her. The room was soon filled with laughter. Now as I try to explain to you why this moment is one that touched my soul, you would have to know how much each family member means to me, what the coming together meant to my heart, how we love to tease each other and laugh--you would have to know that and so much more to understand that life was as good as it gets at that very moment.

Do you have any "good as it gets" moments in your life? Are you blessed to have those little reminders of how precious life is? Does the gift of contentment appear most unexpectedly during those times when your heart feels a special rush; when you know that you want to keep going on to see what comes next in life; when your soul smiles joyfully while you silently say to yourself, "life just doesn't get any better that this!"

If so, you are blessed. I know for certain that I am. Even as I write tonight I realize that it is with some difficulty I try to recall the details of so many of those past moments, and I believe that must be why they are so special when they come and steal softly across my heart and mind and then disappear from my memory. As I then find that place of contentment inside of me where all the moments rest forever, there is no need to be able to recall them all. The moments come and go just like a butterfly landing on a flower petal--beautiful, almost breathless to behold, but soon gone, leaving a bit of heaven in their wake.

There we were last weekend...four sixty-some-year old-women, all with painted toenails, stretching our toes out from the water in the hot tub....giggling like we were twelve-year-olds, at the sight of forty brightly painted toenails lined up in a row. Yep, that was one of those moments when I cherished the gift of knowing that life just doesn't get any better than this.

Youth

Sometimes it is good to be a kid again. Leaving the world of adulthood behind, I recently spent three days with three young people at the happiest place on the planet--Disney World.

I have been to Disney many times, and in fact am one of those grownups who has always loved anything Disney. I believe it goes back to my childhood when I heard about the opening of Disneyland and then would watch the "Wonderful World of Color" on TV and eagerly look forward to seeing what land we would visit....vicariously, that is....each Sunday night.

I remember with happiness the first time I went to Disney World. My three children were five, seven and nine, but I was the biggest kid of all. The magic was everywhere...for them and for me and for Mr. Jorie too. I have been to Disney many times since then, both in California and Florida, and I am filled with anticipation of the fun to be had each time a trip is planned.

I could explain the photos above or you can just let your imagination run wild. My daughter along with two of her friends, very likable young men, pushed me around all day (in a wheelchair that is) and called me, "Crazy Linda." They had all been (or are currently) employed by Disney and know the parks well. It was amazing to be a part of their world for those three fun-filled (no, I mean joy-filled) days!

Queue lines and handicapped access, twizzlers and hamburgers, water rides and thrill rides, characters and real-live characters, smiles and laughter...and then the four of us crashing at our hotel room at the end of a busy day brought pure and simple happiness into my life. The exhaustive and delightful joy of our time together was anticipated but not expected to be so soul-satisfying to this mature soul...who felt like a kid again for three days in August in the happiest place on earth.

Thanks for the memories...Mickey, Kelsey, Sully and Kelly...I love each of you!!!

Glory

Oh the moment!

Oh the moment when you know in your heart
that God has sent a message just for you.

Recently, I was blessed in such a way.

I know that I should not question God, but there are times, actually many times, when I do just that.

I was driving home from a visit to the medical center at the University of Chicago...a place I visit quite often. The hour-long drive often gives me time for solitude and reflection. Questions about treatments and diagnoses, therapy and recommendations often lead me into my quiet times.

On this particular day I asked, "God, I need to know that you are real and that you care about me....could you please give me a sign?" I know, I know, I should not have to ask that question even once, let alone at repeated intervals throughout life, but I did ask...in faith, I asked.

Well, when you are driving down the Dan Ryan expressway during the evening rush hour, where does one look for a sign from God? Other than the billboards and the other cars whizzing around me, I decided to look up...up into the heavens. I saw a blue sky filled with billowing white clouds, not unlike those pictured above. In the sky, as I glanced for a sign, I saw two cylindrical clouds standing out in front of the others and I thought to myself, that does not really look like anything. You know, usually you can pick out something like a rabbit or dog
flying across the sky, but all I could focus on were the two oblong shapes in front of the other clouds.

I continued driving, almost scolding myself for being foolish enough to ask God for this special favor and then thinking that He would take time out of his busy day to give me a sign of His presence.

I have come to realize that just when we think God is not able or does not care about our longing for Him, something amazing can happen. On that day, God spoke directly to me, and this is how He did it...

...I was listening to Christian music. In fact a CD my daughter had made for me many years ago had recently been found in my cabinet and I had been playing it for a few days. Thus I had recently heard the songs over and over. Probably one of the most familiar songs, and definitely the oldest melody on the CD was, "It is well with my Soul." Those verses were heard by me since I was a child. Why then, on this day, when I needed to hear from God, did I finally hear the complete lyrics of the last verse?

My conversation with God went something like this:

And Lord haste the day when my faith shall be sight. I had always heard that phrase Lord...in fact it has been one of my favorite thoughts, knowing that some day my faith would be fulfilled. I wouldn't be burdened by doubt or fear ever again.

The clouds be rolled back as a scroll. Oh, my goodness, I had never, ever heard that line in the song. The clouds...oh yes, those magnificent white clouds I just saw. A scroll, you said a scroll--oh my, that is what I saw in the clouds...a scroll opening. Oh my Lord, you have answered my prayer. You cared about me so much today that you wanted me to know that you are there, that you love me and that you care about me every minute of the day. You wanted to comfort me today and reassure me that you are who you say you are. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

For me the remainder of the ride home was glorious! I sang along with the tunes on the CD praising God for his special blessing to me that day.

There may be skeptics out there who will never believe that God speaks at all...or especially that he speaks to individuals just driving down the expressway. I believe that God speaks to us in so many ways each and every day that we only need to open our eyes to see and our ears to listen, and yes, I believe He can speak to me personally just as he did on the day described here.

I was ready to hear from God that day.
I was a seeker.
My heart was open.
I was blessed and reassured and felt loved with a heavenly love.

Even on the busy, dirty, congested, littered Dan Ryan, I found God's glory!
Amazingly He can show His love anywhere.

Keep seeking.
You won't be disappointed.

Mommy

I remember the first time someone called me Mom. I was in the pediatrician's office with my one-month-old son, and one of the nurses called

me "Adam's Mom." I suddenly realized that yes, I was indeed someone's mom. I remember the moment and have cherished the thought ever since, just as I have cherished every minute of being someone's mom.

Blessed exceedingly to have four someone's use the title when referring to me, I continue to hold dear the concept even now as they are all adults. As long as I live, I will be their mom. What a high calling! What an amazing responsibility.

Even before the nurse called me Adam's mom, a friend in church, upon seeing my newborn, remarked, "Do you realize that you have just committed yourself for the next eighteen years?" Oh, she was so wrong. I lovingly and deliberately committed myself for a lifetime.

I have often said that a picture is worth a thousand words and the two above tell it all when it comes to showing my delight and satisfaction in holding my children forever, and the sheer contentment that fills me when I am with them.

When I hear the words, "Mommy" or "Mom" I immediately perk up and listen. One of my four someones needs my attention. The thirty-three year old someone, and all of his sisters need me each in their own way--and I love being needed.

Meeting their needs is sometimes so much fun, but sometimes it is challenging. I praise God for the good times and seek His guidance in the difficult time, however I never stop trying to be everything my children need.

There is such joy in this job of being a mom...

...and now I am blessed to be called another name...

...and that is "Grandma"...

...although my little Elli girl has descriptively made the name even more special when, from a very early age, she has called me "Own Gwamma."

I am blessed, oh, yes, I am blessed.

Faith

When I was a newborn infant, my parents took me to the Lutheran church in Carbondale to be baptized. Ever since then my Christian faith has been an integral part of who I am.

Throughout my life there has been an ebb and flow in my faith life. I can grow complacent, never stepping away from God totally, but just kind of going along with my life, knowing He is there somewhere. Then there have been times, especially during serious illness and crises where I have been so near death and so totally unable even to pray due to my physical or emotional state, that I know He has, like the poem says--carried me--allowing me to go on.

I once had a friend tell me that she believes that we are either going forward in our faith or we are going backwards--that, as she says, there is no just standing still. After much contemplation, I now agree with her.

I find that being human, I need the Lord. That sounds simplistic enough, however there is so much to that statement, it would be difficult to even put into words how much I need the Lord. As always, however, hear I go, trying to put it into words, because words are so cathartic for me.

Just in recent weeks there have been so many things in my life to deal with, think about, allow my faith to carry me through, that I have once again learned that trusting in God when nothing makes sense is indeed the only way I continue on.

Springtime with all of its loveliness and hope turned into a challenging time I was not anticipating, beginning with the unexpected and very frightening experience of the sudden illness of my three-week-old grandson. Rushing him to the hospital through an unfamiliar city while his mommy and I prayed seemed like the longest ride of my life. Watching him have an IV started, blood draws taken and a spinal tap performed were events I had hoped I would never see on an infant, let alone on my grandchild. During those moments I thought I could not bear the pain and uncertainty of the situation. As God prevailed, the tiny child did not have a serious illness, and a couple of days in the hospital revealed only a minor, short-term problem. I lived through the event and my faith grew immensely.

Family visits, with many people arriving at once provided many loving moments and happy memories, but also some discord, that was totally unexpected. Feelings were hurt and communication shut down. I didn't think I could stand the pain I was feeling over the situation. I thought my heart would break. God, in all of His wisdom prevailed, and granted reconciliation and forgiveness and there is no joy quite like the joy that comes after one has been in such a dark place. He, and He alone provided the healing. I lived through the event and learned from it and my faith grew.

Heart concerns became an issue for me and for people I loved. We were facing potentially and scary unknown futures. My mother and I at one visit to the cardiologist were both given EKG's. Her heart was beating too fast and she was in atrial fibrillation. My heart rate was too slow with a pulse of 35, and the doctor said, "You both may need a pacemaker...and sooner rather than later." She had an angiogram unexpectedly and we both were given thirty day event monitors to help evaluate the situations. Medications were changed. My heart was breaking, and it was really breaking. I asked the Lord what He was thinking? Still with outcomes uncertain I cling to Him and follow my doctor's recommendation. I am living through the event, by grace, and my faith continues to grow.

Other health problems prevailed in my family--problems of another type which may be progressive. Oh, the uncertainty. At times I think I cannot stand it. Even though I like to avoid trite phrases, I am reminded that "one day at a time" is the only way I continue forward. To contemplate the potential future is mind-boggling otherwise. I am living and trusting today, and my faith continues to grow.

I was planning another surgery on another joint to help eliminate chronic pain. The day prior to the surgery I received a phone call that a wonderful Christian friend in my church had suffered a massive heart attack. My heart once again was breaking as I thought and prayed for him and his family. Questions I asked included, "Why Lord? How could you let this happen? Don't you know we all need our hearts if we want to keep on living? Don't you know that we have more work to do?" Well, as the days have passed, In spite of my doubting God's divine wisdom, miraculous healing is taking place for my friend. God has listened to so many prayers. My friend and his family are living through this event, and even though the road ahead is uncertain, I have no doubt that their faith continues to grow--for I know they are trusting the Lord just as I am.

So, I went in for a rather simple surgery compared to others I have had in the past, and the day could not have been more difficult. A simple anesthesia block was botched and the day became painful and frightening because a young resident did not know what she was doing and her attending physician thought it was fine teaching her to learn on me long past the time that the lesson should have stopped. "Now Lord, I had such a positive attitude going into this straight-forward procedure and it had to turn into another lesson in faith. Is there something I am just not getting that you are trying to teach me," I asked God. I am living through the healing process which seems more difficult than I expected, but I have no doubt that my faith is continuing to grow as my elbow continues to heal.

When I get in these life valleys or slumps, as I call them, I keep turning to God because, in fact, that is the only way that life makes sense. And even though my mind tells me that life really does not make sense, I keep going forward because I have faith that God is leading the way and is molding me into the person He needs me to be in the future. I believe that is what is called the peace that passes understanding. I believe that He knows me well and wants me to see that even slumps in life have a purpose. Forever they change me to be ready to help others. Without the hurts I would have no sympathy, little empathy and perhaps not even a word of compassion for other hurting souls He puts in my path.

Do you think that now, after this rocky spring and early summer, I am better prepared to help the next parent or grandparent who sees a sick infant through an emergency room crisis? Do you think I might be able to help someone in the midst of a family crisis, seeing them hurting when communication breaks down? Do you think I will have a heart for people with heart problems or others facing longterm health problems? Do you think I might be ready for the next surgery, armed with a little more knowledge of how to work with hospital staff to prevent a painful and negative experience--and maybe even be a better witness of my faith towards them?

Only God knows the answers to those questions. Only He knows if I will trust Him and use these events, along with numerous lessons before, for good, or if Iwill allow bitterness and anger to overwhelm me. He alone knows if I will perhaps remain closer to Him even when things are going well rather than gradually becoming complacent again.

I pray today that He will indeed help me take the path of hope, trust, compassion, love, and healing rather than the hopeless path of going it on my own. I pray that peace can now surround me in the midst of the remaining uncertainty. I pray that my faith is always going forward and never slipping backwards. I pray that as the remainder of the summer passes, He grants me peace and rest and happy, painfree times because I know He wants to give His children every good thing. I pray that I can rest in Him, because I am tired today.

I pray that you can rest in Him too.

His arms are big enough for us all.

Milestones

Birthdays, graduations, weddings--all milestones in the lives of individuals and in the lives of families.

This week is filled with milestones in our family. My youngest daughter is turning twenty. My middle daughter is celebrating her first wedding anniversary, and me, I am celebrating "I am no longer the mom of a teenager."

For twenty years now Mr. Jorie and I have been parenting teenagers. We survived, as did all four of our kids.

Yes, they all turned out very well--at least from this impartial mother's eyes. But there were moments. I thought of listing some of the most harrowing, but decided that a walk down that memory lane might be just a little too much for these wobbly legs of mine.

I can say that there were times I thought I could not take the teenage angst being demonstrated in so many ways. I did not like the uncertainty of not knowing when young emotions might erupt without notice. I worried at times and advised at times. I cried at times and listened at times. Patience-- all parents know about patience--I hoped I had it when I needed it. Wisdom--well, once again as all parents know--I hoped I had it every second of every day.

When I look back at the teenage years I walked with each of my four children, it is with a deep satisfaction of knowing that we walked the walk together. Mom, dad and growing, changing teen all together, day by day, meeting life head on.

As much as I believe in the importance of the first five years of life being integral in molding and making each person into the unique individual they will become, I also believe that those years from 13 to 20 complete the process. I am happy and deeply satisfied to have been an integral part of that process for my four.

Gladly celebrating my milestone this week, I breathe a sigh of relief and thank the Lord for seeing my through. I am grateful for how much I have grown through the process, and most grateful for the high honor God entrusted me with--when He presented me with four little souls to raise and to guide and to love forever (even through those teenage years.)

Isn't life grand! Isn't God good!

Sheets

There it is...

...a pile of sheets and blankets waiting to be washed.

A rather huge pile of laundry is sitting in front of my washer and dryer.

Why in the world you ask would I write about a pile of dirty sheets?

The significance of the colorful pile is found in the fact that it reminds me that my family was here. All of the beds, which are usually empty, were filled for a few days. Even a small crib was used for the first time on this recent visit.

The children I raised were all home, together, under one roof. Along with these four were a son-in-law, two grandchildren, two brothers, a sister-in-law, a great grandma and one special auntie. No, I do not have beds for all of these special people, but all were gathered in under our roof....along with me and Mr. Jorie for a few days in June.

Father's Day, a birthday, reunion meals, trips to the airport and rocking a new baby were just some of the highlights.

Stories were shared, times were remembered, photos were taken, jokes were told and opinions were voiced....

....and while fixing the meals and setting the table, I prayed. While sweeping the deck and watering the flowers, I prayed. While listening to each adult child express themself, I prayed. While playing with a four-year-old and singing lullabies to a tiny boy, I prayed. When lying down, exhausted each night, I prayed. When rising each morning, I prayed.

....and you ask....what was the prayer I prayed?

Dear Heavenly Father,
Through Christ,

Above all else...

the words, the differences, the hugs, the beliefs, the listening, the concerns, the smiles, the anger, the independence, the joy, the defending, the giving and the taking, the coming together and the going away

...may love reign.

Amen

As I complete load after load of laundry, and smell the clean sheets and shake them as I pull them out of the dryer, I look ahead to the time that the beds will be filled again. All is fresh and new.

I will continue my "mother's prayer" knowing in faith that it will always be answered.

Oh yes, I know for sure that it will be.
For you see, I serve a God of love who never fails

Birth

My daughter is a mother.

I witnessed the birth just six days ago.

I witnessed the miracle of a child, my grandchild, entering the world.

I witnessed my daughter examining, adoring and loving her son.

Awe surrounded us all.

I gave thanks.

From the bottom of my heart, I gave praise to the Lord...

for her son,

for my grandson,

and for God's son.

Unfathomable joy fills her heart.

Joy, so great, fills my heart too.

Our family circle has grown at the coming of one tiny boy.

My daughter is a mother.

Her life will never be the same.

Travel

A family trip to Florida was necessitated at the death of my father-in-law. The six of us arrived at Midway airport in Chicago--Me, Mr. Jorie, Daughter #One, and her child Elli, Daughter # Three, and Auntie, my husband's aunt.

The trip was unexpected but we had traveled many times before and had flown in and out of Orlando on numerous occasions. We would only be away for four nights. It was decided that we would not bother to check our luggage.

It seemed logical not to spend the extra $15.00 per bag to check our luggage. It seemed logical not to have to wait to collect our luggage once we arrived. Somewhere in the foggy recesses of our sixty-one-year-old brains, Mr. Jorie and I thought the luggage decision was a good and practical one, and would expedite our travel time and save a few cents as well.

Taking a closer look at the travelers, one might question the ease of travel this decision would make.

Traveler # One: Mr. Jorie --A tall, large, affable man with both knees replaced and a high risk of falling due to balance issues. He has a tendency to think that he can do anything, but does indeed carry his weight when it comes to moving luggage from point A to point B. He also thinks that it is "cute" to engage each and every security officer in both airports as to how they like the color of their new shirts.

Traveler # Two: Me--Having endured five hip surgeries, my replaced hip is, needless to say, very weak and my gait is often unsteady. Having endured nearly a dozen wrist and hand surgeries, my upper body strength is certainly challenged. My wrist, with the total joint replacement, is painful even when minimally taxed. I am a happy traveler but quite limited in my usefulness.

Traveler # Three: Auntie--Dear and sweet, Auntie in her early eighties traveled through the airport in a borrowed wheelchair. She too has an artificial joint--her hip. She was truly a joy to travel with, however she could only carry what would fit on her lap. (I must admit at times though, we could hardly find her once we stacked so many things on top of her.)

Traveler # Four: Four-year-old Elli--As lively as could be, Elli pulled her little suitcase and darted here and there as we maneuvered our way down the concourse. Of course she was far too small to carry her carseat (a toddler model which separated, whether you wanted it to or not, into two bulky pieces.)



That left Travelers # Five and # Six--Two able-bodied young women, put into service by default, completed our party. Patience, strength and perseverance (mixed with a little wit and sarcasm) had to be their travel mottos.




We began our trip by driving to the airport and parking in the remote parking lot to save a few bucks. Loading all of our travel luggage and personal items into the shuttle bus, our trip began.



We managed to acquire our boarding passes with just a little help from the airline personnel. Proceeding to security, we braced ourselves. With a toddler and three joint replacement (ie. "Metal in Body") travelers, my two daughters prepared to collect ALL of the bags as they rolled through the screening area.



Just a side note: Every traveler wants to get through security as fast as possible. Many people believe that those in wheelchairs should have no advantage over themselves. Many travelers believe that the family of those wheelchair travelers should have to wait in the "regular lines" (and are willing to say so) even though their family members truly need their help. Travel does not always bring out the best in folks.



As everyone knows, each air traveler is allowed two carry-on items. Well, with the purses, the carseat, the lunches and jackets....and oh, did I tell you that Mr. Jorie and Auntie each carried their C-PAP breathing machines along with them as well....we seemed to have an endless number of carry-on items in addition to the legal twelve allowed the six of us.



As everyone also knows, one must remove jackets, shoes, belts, keys, cell phones, etc. from one's person, and place such items into bins to be inspected. Laptops must also have their own bins. I believe we had two of those as well. Not only then were there bins of carry-ons, but also numerous bins with the above mentioned items as well.



As every air traveler also knows each person is allowed three 3 oz. bottles/tubes of liquids in a one quart ziplock bag. We got a little mixed up on this one and ended up being forced by a security agent to discard two expensive tubes of hair product, which were well over the 3 oz. size. (So much for trying to save a few bucks by carrying on all of our possessions.)



Mr. Jorie and I are used to the scrutiny required as we, along with Auntie, were individually searched in the "special search area." I tried to keep an eye on Elli as my two daughters gathered bin after bin after bin of our carry-on possessions. Making it through security with all of our belongings seemed like the hardest part of the trip, although we continued to face challenges. We finally proceeded to the gate.



Upon boarding I was challenged to incorporate two of my bags into one. "Don't you know that you are only allowed two carry-ons?" quipped the attendant. I tried to oblige...and also convince my hands that I could accomplish the task...while standing in line....while all those behind me waited. Daughter # One loudly reminded the attendant that the four-year-old was only carrying one bag, so one of mine could count for hers.



Managing to make it on to the plane (while Mr. Jorie chatted with three more security agents standing at the entrance to the aircraft--about the color of their shirts), our next task was to find overhead spots for all of our belongings. Other travelers watched our efforts and I actually believe that our entourage created a comic diversion for many.



Upon arriving in Orlando, we all trekked through the airport, onto the shuttle train, up and down elevators and finally to the parking garage to pick up our rental mini-van. A sigh of relief was breathed by all once the van was loaded up and we each could finally sit down and relax for our hour drive to the home of my in-laws.


The time spent in Florida was meaningful and even relaxing.


Four days later Mr. Jorie and I, along with our 61-year-old brains--still apparently foggy, decided that since we did not check our bags on the trip down to Florida, there was absolutely no reason to check our bags on the way home. Gluttons for punishment we willingly repeated the entire process in reverse, and traveled home to the Windy City with all of our bags in tow.



I have personally vowed that in the future I will always check as many bags as possible during any future trips, although I don't believe that Mr. Jorie totally agrees.



Thanks goes out to my two able-bodied girls who made the trip possible. I suppose when all is said and done, all of the smiles and laughs along the way made what could have been a difficult trip just a little easier to endure.



It is so good to travel though life together with the ones we love---and oh how wonderful it is for them to be able to help carry the load when help is needed.

Pride

Excitement, bringing out the child in me, brightened the cool November evening as my husband and I found ourselves taking our four-year-old granddaughter to the Ringling Brothers circus at the United Center. The pre-show was exciting as families streamed into the arena with popcorn, sno-cones or cotton candy in hand. As I waited for the show to begin, I thought to myself, "What could be more American than the excitement that ensues when the circus comes to town?"


At last, the ringmaster entered the center ring and asked the audience to stand to sing the national anthem. The three of us stood, and Elli observed her Bampa and Gwamma sing while most of the folks around us remained seated. As I glanced about, I was truly in shock. This melting pot called Chicago...who had just days before had the great opportunity to vote...who could now watch a peaceful transfer of power...who enjoy the fruits of freedom in their lives that this country offers...who know that young Americans are in foreign lands laying their lives on the line...who are blessed to have the means to bring their children to this venue...this melting pot of folks chose not to stand up and sing OUR National Anthem.


The show was amazing. Our granddaughter loved it and we loved watching her. I left, however, feeling just a bit saddened and disillusioned. The Greatest Show on Earth had concluded, and the crowds who live in The Greatest Country on Earth departed. Their children, having the privilege of one day becoming president, had watched their parents and grandparents, who did not stand up--

--an opportunity lost forever.

Willingness

My friend Ron is in the lawn chair. 1981

Friends are the people in our lives whom we choose to love.

The love between us is unconditional.

A true friend understands the essence of what makes us who we are.

Speaking and listening between friends is comfortable and safe.

I was suffering through my third miscarriage. When I say suffering, I mean the emotional pain of glad expectation, lost in a heartbeat. My friend and his wife were visiting us to give their love and support.

I was indeed having a pity party as we set in the family room together, when I sadly exclaimed, "I will never be the same again."

Thoughtfully Ron asked me, "Do you think that's all bad?"

I pondered his response, which was given in love.

I was stunned. Then my soul quieted.

I was rescued from my grief by one perfect simple question.

I was reminded once again to rest in God when nothing made sense.

In time I realized that my losses would prepare me to reach out to others who were in need.

No, I will never be the same. I believed it in 1982 and I believe it today.

Unexpected change can be a very good thing, if we can pull ourselves out of the darkness that life can send, into the real world again.

I'm glad that we never stop growing.

Assurance

Last week I experienced the moment....

....the moment when I knew that Spring was actually here.

Oh, there had been other moments here in the Midwest that indicated that spring was just around the corner. The piles of snow had all melted. Warmer days appeared here and there. Buds on the trees were coming awake after their long winter sleep. The first robin of the season hopped out from nowhere and was quickly followed by many brothers and sisters. Easter candy was piled high on the shelves at every store. Summer sportswear had made its way to department store racks. Even the straw colored grass on my lawn showed just a hint of green.

Daylight Savings time had transformed the evenings in Illinois. The calendar showed that spring had officially arrived.

So many signs of spring abounded, and indeed made me happy and hopeful. However pulling into my driveway on that day, in a moment's time, I knew that spring was actually here.

If you asked me how I knew, I couldn't tell you, but I knew in my heart that the renewal of nature, along with renewal in my soul had arrived.

A broad smile came to my face.

Perhaps experiencing life's peaks and valleys over many years I have found that no matter how difficult the winter can be, it will eventually melt into spring. The pain and anger, the frustration and heartache, the disappointment and hopelessness of life's winters will always be followed by a spring. We can be certain that there will be a time of love and hope, joy and happiness, forgiveness and peace that suddenly, or gradually, springs into our lives and we know that we can go on.

I hope that spring has returned in your neighborhood and in your heart. I hope you treasure it.