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Monday, October 27, 2014
Saturday, October 25, 2014
Fountain of love
The top photo to the right is one of my favorites of all time. It was taken of my two little sisters and me at the Oklahoma City Zoo is 1967 or 1968. Imagine my happiness, then, when my niece sent me the bottom photo of her own three children (the grandchildren of the sister to the far right.) That the fountain is still at the zoo pleases me to no end. That my niece would be thoughtful enough to stage a photo of the next generation of our family in front of it... well, I don't even know how to describe my joy!
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ZzzZZ
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Wednesday, October 22, 2014
Figs, boils and hugs
We're been going through a particularly rough patch of late.There have been a number of medical and other emergencies such that we have had a prominent place on many prayer lists. In the ER last Sunday night, my youngest sister, who had come to me in my hour of need wondered out loud if we might need to call an exorcist. When we were at the Vatican a couple of years back, we saw shelves of text books for priests coming to receive instruction on rites including exorcisms. I imagine that recollection as well as the Linda Blair movie was the source of her quip, intended to lighten the mood (something she is exceptionally good at!)
But then, in conversation with my mother, she mentioned that I might need to get a fig tree in case we needed them to make a poultice. She reckoned that boils might be next, or maybe locusts. She, too, was trying to use humor to act as a balm on my bruised and weary spirit. It always works.
But this time, their statements, intended to be humorous, did something more. They made me think of how God was so real to Job, even in his misery, that was able to declare "As for me, I know that my Redeemer lives, And at the last He will take His stand on the earth. Even after my skin is destroyed, Yet from my flesh I shall see God; Whom I myself shall behold, And whom my eyes will see and not another. My heart faints within me!…
And it also made me think the passage where Habakkuk rejoices saying:
"Though the fig tree should not blossom And there be no fruit on the vines, Though the yield of the olive should fail And the fields produce no food, Though the flock should be cut off from the fold And there be no cattle in the stalls,Yet I will exult in the LORD, I will rejoice in the God of my salvation."So come boils or locust, feast or famine, mountaintop experiences or deep valleys, I intend to continue looking up, expectantly, to my Father Who loves me.
I intend to keep studying His Word and seeking His direction .
I intend to count my blessings more and rehearse my woes and feed my fears less.
I am blessed in so many ways. Having a mother and a sister who can make me laugh are just the tip of the iceberg. And while we are on the subject of families and people who can make things better, my middle sister said I didn't need an exorcist or a fig tree. She said I just need a hug.
Indeed.
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But then, in conversation with my mother, she mentioned that I might need to get a fig tree in case we needed them to make a poultice. She reckoned that boils might be next, or maybe locusts. She, too, was trying to use humor to act as a balm on my bruised and weary spirit. It always works.
But this time, their statements, intended to be humorous, did something more. They made me think of how God was so real to Job, even in his misery, that was able to declare "As for me, I know that my Redeemer lives, And at the last He will take His stand on the earth. Even after my skin is destroyed, Yet from my flesh I shall see God; Whom I myself shall behold, And whom my eyes will see and not another. My heart faints within me!…
And it also made me think the passage where Habakkuk rejoices saying:
"Though the fig tree should not blossom And there be no fruit on the vines, Though the yield of the olive should fail And the fields produce no food, Though the flock should be cut off from the fold And there be no cattle in the stalls,Yet I will exult in the LORD, I will rejoice in the God of my salvation."So come boils or locust, feast or famine, mountaintop experiences or deep valleys, I intend to continue looking up, expectantly, to my Father Who loves me.
I intend to keep studying His Word and seeking His direction .
I intend to count my blessings more and rehearse my woes and feed my fears less.
I am blessed in so many ways. Having a mother and a sister who can make me laugh are just the tip of the iceberg. And while we are on the subject of families and people who can make things better, my middle sister said I didn't need an exorcist or a fig tree. She said I just need a hug.
Indeed.
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Monday, October 20, 2014
Sunday, October 19, 2014
Thursday, October 16, 2014
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
The Strike System
My most recent post did not include all the reasons I am determined not to argue, quarrel or otherwise interfere with my daughters wedding plans. I had to save something for this post.
What I saved were the some of the primary reasons.
There they are:
1. It is HER wedding.
2. I want it to be fun.
3. I want to make lots of good memories (and hopefully no bad ones.)
4. She has put me on a strike system.
The fourth reason might be the most influential one.
I am officially on her strike system. Here is how it happened.
She mentioned that she might want "fair type" food at her wedding reception.
"Well, you are getting married in September and the state fair will be going on. Perhaps you could go with a while fair themed wedding," said I.
"Mom, that is strike one," said she.
This is not baseball, I thought to myself but said it not (nor anything else for a while.) Maybe out of fear (or maybe out of frustration (I really wasn't being sarcastic, I promise!) Maybe even out of confusion, I listened quietly to her tell me that I have three strikes. After three, she may just elect to elope.
The strikes are for "unnecessary and or/unkind and unhelpful comments." More than three of them out of me in these next months leading up to the wedding and there will be no wedding.
Now consider for a moment that there was not a baby girl born in our family from the birth of the bride-to-be and her niece, a time span of just over 18 years. That means it will be a long time since we'll be hosting another wedding. Not to put pressure on my child (as if I could do that anyway) but I do feel some sense of duty to the friends and family who really want to see the baby walk down the aisle in her wedding gown and who really do want to celebrate with her and her groom and the rest of us.
Bottom line: I gotta behave.
Smile, nod my head. A lot.
What I saved were the some of the primary reasons.
There they are:
1. It is HER wedding.
2. I want it to be fun.
3. I want to make lots of good memories (and hopefully no bad ones.)
4. She has put me on a strike system.
The fourth reason might be the most influential one.
I am officially on her strike system. Here is how it happened.
She mentioned that she might want "fair type" food at her wedding reception.
"Well, you are getting married in September and the state fair will be going on. Perhaps you could go with a while fair themed wedding," said I.
"Mom, that is strike one," said she.
This is not baseball, I thought to myself but said it not (nor anything else for a while.) Maybe out of fear (or maybe out of frustration (I really wasn't being sarcastic, I promise!) Maybe even out of confusion, I listened quietly to her tell me that I have three strikes. After three, she may just elect to elope.
The strikes are for "unnecessary and or/unkind and unhelpful comments." More than three of them out of me in these next months leading up to the wedding and there will be no wedding.
Now consider for a moment that there was not a baby girl born in our family from the birth of the bride-to-be and her niece, a time span of just over 18 years. That means it will be a long time since we'll be hosting another wedding. Not to put pressure on my child (as if I could do that anyway) but I do feel some sense of duty to the friends and family who really want to see the baby walk down the aisle in her wedding gown and who really do want to celebrate with her and her groom and the rest of us.
Bottom line: I gotta behave.
Smile, nod my head. A lot.
A girl who knows her own mind
My baby daughter has always known her own mind. Maybe it is because she is the baby. Maybe it is genetic. In any event, by the time she was a toddler, she had very clear preferences as to food and toys and fashion. Especially fashion.
By that I mean, it had to be stylish (by her standards) and it had to be comfortable (by any standard) or getting her to wear something that was not both was a battle. By the time I got to the third child, I was a bit battle weary and had learned to pick them more carefully. More often than not, I gave in to her about especially clothes.
My mother says I was much the same even from an early age, so that was part of it. Age, maturity and the aforementioned battle weariness (mine, not my daughter's) factored in also. The result, I am happy to report, is that she has a strong sense of fashion, is very independent in her thinking and overall makes very wise decisions.
Her choices as to friends and cars and activities and a career path have been decidedly sound.
The other thing is, her opinions are usually right and her observations spot on.
By the time she was two, her cousins and siblings had begun to call her "Little Miss Can't be Wrong" perhaps not always fondly. Still, the other children in the family recognized early that this baby of ours was strong willed but also had a good head on her shoulders.
Not much has changed about her in that regard.
These many years later she is still strong willed and opinionated. And she still knows her own mind.
Much better than I ever have.
And so it is with decisions and ideas and choices about her wedding plans. If she wants to get married in the fall outside under a chandelier then so be it. I am not about to second guess her. Or quarrel with her.
Really, I am not.
All of this is back story for the statement I am about to make:
By that I mean, it had to be stylish (by her standards) and it had to be comfortable (by any standard) or getting her to wear something that was not both was a battle. By the time I got to the third child, I was a bit battle weary and had learned to pick them more carefully. More often than not, I gave in to her about especially clothes.
My mother says I was much the same even from an early age, so that was part of it. Age, maturity and the aforementioned battle weariness (mine, not my daughter's) factored in also. The result, I am happy to report, is that she has a strong sense of fashion, is very independent in her thinking and overall makes very wise decisions.
Her choices as to friends and cars and activities and a career path have been decidedly sound.
The other thing is, her opinions are usually right and her observations spot on.
By the time she was two, her cousins and siblings had begun to call her "Little Miss Can't be Wrong" perhaps not always fondly. Still, the other children in the family recognized early that this baby of ours was strong willed but also had a good head on her shoulders.
Not much has changed about her in that regard.
These many years later she is still strong willed and opinionated. And she still knows her own mind.
Much better than I ever have.
And so it is with decisions and ideas and choices about her wedding plans. If she wants to get married in the fall outside under a chandelier then so be it. I am not about to second guess her. Or quarrel with her.
Really, I am not.
All of this is back story for the statement I am about to make:
Sunday, October 12, 2014
Friday, October 10, 2014
Monday, October 6, 2014
Saturday, October 4, 2014
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