At Dinner

   
On a whim, I typed “dinner out with Brian” on our merged calendars one Thursday night.

So we sat across from each other, next to the cozy fireplace in our town’s Famous Barbeque restaurant, I feverishly working to find meals for us that weren’t full of sugar, gluten, or dairy.  And were reasonably priced.  This barbecue restaurant wasn’t cooperating with my economically healthy food desires.

Brian humored me by going along with this food plan, but I was starting to sweat guilt that he wouldn’t get to enjoy his sweet ribs and coleslaw.

After my hundredth fretting question to him, he grabbed my hands and looked me straight in the eyes.  “This isn’t about the food.  It’s about being with you.”

What do you say to that except “oh?" And sigh in relief.

This is what God says to each of us, actually.  To you, specifically.

He’s not looking for anything from you. He truly wants to know you, to be with you.  Rest in that with me, yes?

A Summer Lesson

 I finally silence my cell phone as the text tone rings incessantly.  My dear aunt is posting pictures to all the grandkids.  The photos are nostalgic items from my grandfather's yellow farmhouse, for she is cleaning it out.

It has been a truly marvelous summer, exceeding my expectations.  Almost none of my summer goals are checked off, but somehow that's okay.

In June I attended my grandfather's funeral.  Living just down the road from him most of my childhood years, he is a constant in my memory.  Always there, always around, always showing up.

Two months ago, when we got the news, the grandchild/cousin text circuit was incredible.  We grew up together with him as patriarch.  Memory after memory ringing out the truth.  He is gone.  His memory is fully alive.

Before summer exits, before I receive the bolo tie I claimed from yesterday's photos, can I share what really matters to me?  Can I share what will stay alive always in me and what I've inadvertently passed on to my children without even trying?

I was ten or eleven when his first wife, my grandmother, lay dying from advanced cancer.  I loved her passionately.  I loved her so much my grades suffered that fifth grade year.  I was troubled by her pain, by her inevitable death.

It was not just me that loved her though.  During an afternoon on one of the last days of her life, I said my goodbyes to her silently failing body.  She lay in a hospital bed near the top of the stairs of the split level farmhouse.

I left the room and stood in the hallway; in the in between.  On one side was the kitchen where she'd cut my hair, fixed fabulous meals, and let me play barbies.  At the other end was the doorway into her death.

My grandfather walked out of her room and blurry eyed, ran into me.  He grabbed my shoulders, his body shaking with anguish, and then wrapped his arms around my little body.  He held me sobbing for a lifetime.

For sure, the embrace lasted less than a minute, but the impact it left will outlive him, and outlive me.  In that moment of his unrestrained grief released in my presence, his tears were a river, rushing through me, his oldest grandchild.  The river's intense rushing left me with a vision for a marriage like his.  I didn't even know the vision began.

True love, you see, is real.  True love is lasting.  True love means great gain, and great pain.

I witnessed the real deal marriage, where separation by death is the only option, and death comes only with a serious fight to remain alive and together.

My grandfather was a quiet man with a song at the right time and a quick wit when you thought he wasn't paying attention.

His commitment in marriage was loud, lasting, alluring.

Seeing something that good showed an impressionable preadolescent something to look for, strive for, wait for.  Without saying anything.

Grandpa's death this summer helped me to see what an incredible gift he gave me.  I have a great inheritance.  Divorce in our family is extremely rare.  My parents, aunts and uncles, siblings, and cousins have chosen strong and lasting marriages.  We've received a good legacy.  It's not perfect, but it's good.

Sometimes I think creating a legacy has to be complicated. From Grandpa I learned it just has to be real.

Canned Thanks

My farmer parents and family bless us with lots of beautiful, ripe fruit.

Food preserving is hard work.

I leave for a lunch meeting and when I return, I am fully reminded of my great blessings.

One of them is a husband who reaches into the deepest parts of me and speaks to them.  With love and gentleness.

There are dahlias on my desk he's brought me, each color and shape specially chosen.

Today on my bed are five cards.  The children have made them while I was out.

I don't deserve such a man, such a family.

I'm incredibly thankful.

A Ready Meal

He's a hard-working man. In the fields by 5:00 a.m., constantly moving, facing the elements.  He's gotta be hungry.  I watched my mama serve him well.  Good, warm food when he came home from the fields.

And when I got older, I did the same.  She'd tell me, "Your dad's gonna be home soon, hon, fix him up some lunch.  And don't forget the ice water, napkin, and silverware."

I did it, and gradually, I think, she didn't have to remind me anymore.  I just knew he deserved it.

Now I've the gift of a husband of my own.  He gets up early on a Sunday morning.  He may not be facing the great outdoors and large dirt fields of labor, but he's got work.  Spiritual warfare, many needs and duties.

By the time he gets home, the children and I have eaten both breakfast and lunch.  He's gotta be tired and hungry.

It's in me.  I can't even help but have a plate of food ready.  Silverware and water, too, though I get lazy with the ice most of the time.  He deserves it.

It's to no credit of my own.  I inherited it by years of example and training.  I wonder if my grandmother ingrained it into my mom, her husband coming in from the fields hungry.  And her mother before that?

Oh, the power of example and training.  Its effects carry on from generation to generation.

A Smattering of Scatterings

It's been almost two weeks since my last posting.  Not since last year, actually.

And since then the days have been full, as I'm sure yours have as well.  There's been rejoicing and heartache and much in between.

Brian and I got away for 24 peaceful, serene, uninterrupted hours for our 13th anniversary.   Someday I'll be inviting all the kids to come with us because I don't need any more quiet, but for now, sitting by a cozy fire in front of an enticing view was a wonderful gift.

While we were away my sister came and took our crib (with permission).  The washing machine tech. found a mini screwdriver in the drum, and my dad put gypsum all over our lawn.  We were the only house with what looked like a dusting of snow.

Thirteen years and the crib is gone.  So is my favorite serving bowl we got for a wedding gift from Sally.  I really liked that bowl, but alas, just before year thirteen someone bumped it and it broke on the tile floor.  We've spend more money than I ever want to know on mini screwdrivers in washing machines, paperclips in specialty toilets, and raisins in noses.  Do they count those things when they tally up how much it costs to raise a child?

But maybe this year our lawn will look a little better.

This is how it is...changes, challenges, hopes, and God in it all.

It is a new year, but I bring much of the old into it.  Yet I'm looking to God to continue to create me anew.
To root out rot and decay.  To fill me with life.

My sister and I are on a 30 Day Husband Encouragement Challenge and tonight my husband told me I could keep doing it for another 30 days.

Who doesn't like to be encouraged?  It reveals a lot about me, too.

As 2012 gets less new and more comfortable, I do pray I continue to change and grow more like Jesus.  That I fall more in love with Him and walk more closely to Him each day.

In all the smatterings and scatterings that make up these full days, may His Spirit fill and fill.

Setting up the Pins...And Knocking Them Down

I've been longing quietly, deeply, steadily, for a passion.
A niche.  A specialty.

You probably have one or two or more, so don't know what I'm meaning.  But maybe there's someone out there like me, who, when all is stripped away, is mediocre at lots and good at nothing.  Okay, and bad at tons of things.

I pray.  I've sought out possibilities.  I have dreams, goals, hopes to delve into a specific something.
The new year always brings it out in me.  Is it time now?  Can I move forward?

While jogging the other morning to Sara Groves, my mind and heart were spinning with thoughts.  Could it be that it is time to pursue?  Where would I fit it in?

And the song in my ears...Everyone, everywhere, some way, some how, setting up the pins, for knocking em down.

Yes, my life is full, I pray.  There are many different headings in the newspaper of my life.  Can I add just one more?  The one that will fulfill, give me a sense of purpose, importance, status?  To be sought after for a skill?

It might sound simple but it's really profound...setting up the pins for knocking em down.

My searching heart calms as the dust of desire settles a little...through the dreams and hopes I can see my course again.  It's not time.  It may never be.  And then again, there may be a "yes" someday.

For now, though, I think through the titles in my life.  The ones the Lord has placed there, whether or not they were of my first choosing.

In each one, there are many ways to improve.  Like I said, I'm mediocre at everything.

Can I be a better child of God?  You bet.

Can I improve in loving and serving my husband?  No doubt.

How about building a relationship with my children, training them, helping them, loving them, teaching them?  Of course.

What about the position at my church?  Yes, much more skill needed here.

How about as a friend, a writer, a daughter, a sister, a homemaker, a pray-er?  Okay, now I'm already overwhelmed and I haven't even added anything new.

So I let go...maybe my desire for something else is a cover for the lack of skill I have in all the areas I'm already working at.  

Setting up the pins and knocking them down can be quite the challenge indeed.

My grandmother had a working song
Hummed it low all day long
Sing for the joy to be found
Setting up the pins for knocking em down.

This is my life right now.  I'm to be faithful at this job before me.  To expect things to continually be knocked down...and to work, with the strength of the Holy Spirit, at setting em back up!

photos:  holiday photos from 2011

35 and Still Alive

I mean my parents' marriage.
My Aunt and Uncle's, too.
Not just, they're still living....

But their marriages are still thriving, growing,
full of life and love and spark.

We decided to party it up...surprise style.
We, my cousins and siblings and I, had seen it done
long ago.  Our grandparents received their own surprise
35th anniversary party when we were young.

I can only say that as we schemed, plotted over e-mail,
worked, created, and decided on endless details, the
end result was better than we'd ever imagined.

I'm so thankful we took the time to do it.

They arrived via limo, still clueless as to what was going on.
We received them at the high school all of us six cousins had
graduated from.  Our dads, too.

Their friends and family made the effort to come.  For they are deeply loved by many.

We ate potluck style.

We celebrated God's goodness to them via slide shows and videos and songs and hilarious skits.

We even got my dad to lead the party in one of his famous camp songs.

Of course there was some fun dancing.

With all the pain and suffering and struggles daily around, even that day our parents attending a funeral for a long-time friend, it's important to stop and celebrate the good things happening, too.

And as my grandpa commented, who twenty-six years ago received his own party, his wife not living to their fortieth anniversary,
"cherish what you have."

A verse in Proverbs 31 kept coming back to me as well....

"her children arise and call her blessed;"

it is a true blessing to get to arise and bless my parents.

The verse in Proverbs 17 has come alive to me:

"Children's children are a crown to the aged,
and parents are the pride of their children."

More than we imagine

Giving thanks....for many, many rich gifts.

All gifts are given ultimately by God.

And beyond Him, there are many, many, who've lived before us, made this world an easier more comfortable place to live.  With freedoms, amenities, and opportunities most could not even imagine.

In our wedding program, one of our verses we placed in it was Ephesians 3:20,21.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever!   Amen.

And nearly twelve years later I can honestly say He's done immeasurably more than we asked or imagined as we entered into that covenant....and so we give thanks.