The Assurance of Spring

So much has happened since my last entry!  We have welcomed a new member to our family, our first great-grandchild, Adalyn. She is as perfectly sweet as any baby could be and her beauty has no bounds, as seen by the picture just hours after her birth:

Our grandson, Oliver, has a bit more growing to do but will be joining us in just a few more weeks. What fun! Tiny little babies filled with promise.   New life, from darkness to light these precious bundles are ushered in, and the world is more joyful because they are here.

Changes are happening around my little piece of earth as well.  My witch hazel burst into bloom almost a month ago and its ribbon-like blossoms spill out like yellow confetti, celebrating the closing weeks of winter.



Some of my roses are starting to leaf out, and many of them never did lose all their leaves over the winter. I'm conflicted whether I'm late in pruning them back, or if I should wait a few more weeks. The temperatures are still getting in the low thirties, and in fact it was snowing again today. The wind was spitting large, wet flakes sidewards against my windows, making it look like white suds as they slipped down. What do you think, should I prune now or wait?

The rabbits are going to be my nemesis this year, I can see already. Broken rose branches litter the ground with neat little 45 degree angle cuts that I now know signal the presence of "Wascally Wabbits"! I've been on-line trying to find a humane way to encourage them to go back into the forest and leave my roses alone.  The tulips are making their way through the crusty hard earth and if the rabbits start eating them, who knows what I will do to the "wabbits" in my seething and frenzied Elmer Fudd mode!



I love seeing all the assurances that spring is indeed around the corner. The tiny unborn pink blossoms of the cherry trees nearby give secret glimpses of the beautiful splendor that will unfurl in a few weeks.  Tulip trees are looking promising as their buds exhale and expand larger each day and my irises are starting to lose their pale anemic winter look and are becoming tinged with green.

How spoiled I feel to never have to worry that Jesus will provide a way for life to continue. Leaves return each spring, flowers bloom, the air warms, babies are born, and we always have an opportunity for a relationship with our creator while on earth. He is waiting for us, pulling for us, waiting for us to call on Him and offering us new life, new hope, new strength, new growth, and a life filled with promise.

"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows." James 1:17



SNOWMAGEDDON!

Our mild Northwest winter was given a sudden shake-up which brought substantial changes to the landscape and homes of tens of thousands of people. We had been coasting along with such a temperate winter, my tree mallow, perennial bachelor buttons, and a few rose bushes never lost their leaves and were even attempting to flower. We found ourselves yearning for a little snow, and I personally was just about to fall spread-eagle on any wayward, drifting snowflake and wildly start making a snow angel, no matter what the neighbors thought. Whispers of change hit the weather reports and we were given a head's-up that snow was on the horizon and in a big way. The first couple of days a light snow fell and the trails and roads around us were a manageable slush. I was reveling in the quiet stillness of the falling snow and filled with thankfulness for the silent beauty the snow created as it filled all the tiny crevices in the leaves and fir needles, accenting the green and covering the branches and ground with a light carpet of sparkle.

..."And then it happened, woo-hoo!",as the old techno song's lyrics come to mind.  We woke up to a huge snow-dump that brought some weighty changes to our surroundings. The picture below is our front yard.

The picture below is of a friend in my area's front yard.

Now, those of you from colder climates are probably, scoffing over these pictures, as no big deal.  However,we coastal Northwesters are not at all conditioned to this, and once more, neither are our trees. Nature has a way of pruning its branches by falling off in wind, ice, or storm and our pruning had begun.  As two more days of heavy snow fell, we then woke up to an ice storm and no electricity.  Branches of trees littered the ground and everything looked like a sugary glazed dessert. The first picture is of a friend's front window after a branch entered their living room.  Electricity in my neighborhood was out for about two and half days, but many almost two weeks later are still waiting for their power.  Wind storms have followed up, making our electricity spotty at best and clearing out even more of our area's tree branches which were weakened earlier.

My young little yard trees are still pliable and not really big enough to suffer, it was the large Douglas Firs across the road from our back fence, that I kept eyeing suspiciously and prayed would stay put.

Our little town looked like a war zone. Trees and branches littered the ground and utility workers from seven states have come to the rescue.  The sound of chain saws still fill the air and chipper-shredder trucks are blocking many lanes as they attempt to clear the roadways.  Some grocery stores were giving food away the first few days from their darkened powerless buildings. Don and I closed up the bedrooms, and snuggled in front of our battery back-up little gas fireplace with flashlights and candles, our rations were getting low, but that only tickled my creativity.

 Now, I'm a fidgety kind of person who when I have to be inside, spends a fair amount of time at the windows like a cat dreaming of high adventure.  Actually, my mom has lovingly described me as, " A dog who is tough to keep under the porch". Ha!  A week before the storm, I had developed some tendinitis in my hand that kept me housebound with some pain issues, then the storms hit and I paced the house with restlessness.  Don and I played Parcheesi and read, but when I didn't think I could handle it much longer, we heard a knock at the door.  Our neighbor was there, inviting all the people in the cul-de-sac to come to her house with whatever ration we had left in our cupboard for a pot-luck of plenty. We eagerly accepted and had a wonderful time! We all laughed and shared our adventures without electricity and bonded together like never before. 

I began hearing story after story of kindnesses from strangers during this time, and families without electronic distractions that came together listening to each other, and loving through games of strategy and chance, group story times, and long talks. Jesus says in  John 13:34, "A new command I give you: Love one another, as I have loved you, so must you love one another".  I think God must have been more than a little pleased as he saw life slowing down for some, and hearts being brought closer together in spite of logistical challenges.

Some people can bend and sway to challenges like my young trees, accepting life as it is.  Others may be like my little coral-barked maple whose salmony color glowed even brighter as the cold increased. Many of us need a little trimming done and we learn to sit still while troubled areas are removed, or honed so our life skills are more affective. 

And for those who are feeling overwhelmed, God speaks to us in Isaiah 40: 28-31, "The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom.  He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.  Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.  They will soar on wings like eagle's; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint."  May your heart be filled with hope during the storms that will come your way.

All Clean and Ready to Go!

My brother's dog, Wyatt Earp, has a job he takes very seriously, rinsing the dishes before the dishwasher is turned on. He has been doing this since he was a little puppy as seen below. A call of his name is all it takes for Wyatt to come in the kitchen and begin his scullery duty. Wyatt is a dog who clearly understands the benefits of thorough cleaning.

When I find myself peering through smeary peek holes from my car windows, I know that they too need a good cleaning. The other day I brought my car to the car wash and the sign at the entrance resonated with me in a whole new way. It detailed four things I had to actively do in order for my car to come out the other side clean and unscathed.

The first thing I had to do was put my car in neutral, of course putting my car in drive while on a track that moves at a pace that was programmed to give my car the maxium amount of time needed for a thorough cleaning, would be silly.  Additionally, putting my car in reverse and not even letting the cleansing water and detergent scrub away my car's grime would also be counterproductive. Nope, neutral it is, relax and let go.

The second thing I was reminded to do was to put my antennae down. Now, I don't have one of those, the good folks of Toyota decided to meld mine into my windows. However, my automatic windshield- wipers do have to be deactivated because they would be frantically trying to wash away the water, soap and brushes that touched my front windows if I didn't remember this step.  Windshield wipers deactivated, check.

Foot off the brake, was the next step. This one is always a bit hard for me.  Even though I know that the track that pulls my car along doesn't need the added resistance of me putting on my brakes, the first split second the track jerks me forward my inclination is to engage them.  I don't think I have yet, but it takes a conscious effort not to, as it just seems wrong to have something else in control of where and when I should move forward.

Once I've let myself be at the complete mercy of the track pulling my car forward into the wash, having my hands off the steering wheel is not a big deal. However, trusting that my car is really on the track at the beginning is a bit daunting. I have to willfully trust the reassuring attendant in front of me that my car's tires are indeed on the track, because it typically doesn't feel like they are placed where I think they should. It also feels like the track is going to pull the rubber right off my tires.

Once inside, the washing begins! I thrill to the excitement and tempest of the pouring water,  twirling brushes, and the soapy sounds of progress.

Wash, rinse, dry and and then a quick reflection of the car's new and improved looks. What could be easier?

Now of course this process has eternal significance as well. As we start a new year so many of us are refreshed by the prospect of a new beginning, a new start. All the struggles from the previous year are behind us and a new year beckons with new promise.  Its funny how just one day on the calendar can give us such wonderful feelings of hope and inspiration, yet each day we are offered that very same promise.  If we put our lives in neutral and in the hands of our creator, we are on the track that leads to blessings, purity, and all the good stuff that results from a life in alignment with God's plan.  It doesn't mean its all sunshine and good times, because removing dirt is usually a painful process, but God promises the end result is worth the effort of  "Letting go and letting God". 

I pray I can put myself in full neutral gear throughout the year, filling it solely with God's desires for my life.  I'm trying to keep my antennae down, and my windshield wipers deactivated as I simply trust that God sees the soil in my heart and knows where to clean and where and when to plant seeds.   If I look back, then focus and dwell on all the mistakes I made this last year, its like putting my car in reverse gear inside the car wash. God washed all my grimy sin away from me once I did the repenting work, reverse gear should never be an option (note to self: Remember this).

Even though its scary, I have to keep my foot off the brakes.  When I'm going into unchartered Lisa territory, my inclination is to not just put on the brakes, but pump them too! Right now I feel that a new teaching opportunity is opening up to me and I'm excited yet afraid of this new challenge. My need for safety tells me to remain stagnate, yet I know that God has bigger plans for me. Move me forward God, I want to see my new path. Steer me where you would have me go, Lord.  Prepare me by a good wash, rinse and dry me, then send me along to do your work. Help me to reflect your face in this new year.

Ezekiel 36:25-28
I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you will be clean; I will cleanse you from all your impurities and from all your idols. I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws.. You will live in the land I gave your forefathers; you will be my people and I will be your God.

Treasuring and Pondering

December has been a month filled with sorrow, joys, beauty, tears, quiet and bustle. As I grieve the recent death of my father, I sometimes find myself looking at the day's activities as if it were happening to someone I'm observing attentively. I move through the day and reflect on it's occurrence's with quiet reflection, and treasure up the many blessings that come softly and sometimes boisterously my way, my tears often punctuating their beauty.

November 28'th my father was greeted into heaven, and on the day he left this earth my dear friends with whom I was staying, received word that they were new grandparents. I have long held a soft spot for children and seeing the pictures of new life on the very day my father went to greet his, was such a reminder of God's wonderful plan of joy and hope, life and love.

Last week I was privileged to be with my daughter and her husband during the sonogram when they learned they are having a son. A son. My baby is carrying a son. I find myself, like Mary did so many years ago, pondering what God has in store for this new and precious life.

I have kept Christmas decorations to a select few this year, no big gorgeous tree is filling our home. Rather, tree-scented candles, sprigs of holly, a wreath at the door, two small but treasured china angels from my husband's family and a 100 year-old copy of "The Night Before Christmas", that was my grandma Edna's is on display. I'm finding the lack of glitz is calming, and I'm so very thankful for our lovely little home. I even shelled out the big bucks (for us anyway) and had two people come in and paint the main living area and kitchen of our home and I love its new look. I've never had anyone paint for me before and although I had to close my eyes when sending the check, the lack of fuss on my part was well worth it. The two days the painters were here, I sat in my room and wrapped presents, thoroughly cleaned my room, got some correspondence done, did laundry and actually enjoyed being in my little nest while the painters quietly worked.

A few days before my father passed away, I called my husband and asked if he could plan something in Seattle for us to do around Christmas. I needed something to look forward to during that very difficult time.  He rose to the challenge and so far we have gone on a Christmas cruise around Seattle with members of our church, attended the Nutcracker, and the symphony. An embarrassment of riches. The above picture is from our fun walk around Seattle the evening after watching the Nutcracker. The picture below is while at the Nutcracker, where all the many little girls in their beautiful princess dresses were as entertaining as this gorgeous ballet.

My husband and I want to wish each of you the merriest of Christmas celebrations. May you also have time to treasure and ponder the many blessings that God offers us; from the simple beauty of gnarled bare branches, to the splendor that is often a part of this season, to the warmth and love of friends and family. Celebrate the gift of life that was given to us and may peace overflow in your lives.



Saying Goodbye



Me, enjoying my Dad's music just as I did as a child.

My Dad has finally let go of his strong grip on this life and has embraced his new heavenly one where he can walk again, play his spirited music once more, and be filled with such joy that his light heart will perhaps even spill down towards me on days like today, when my tears are flowing and my heart aches for just one more hug.

For the last several years my Dad's health has been in a slow decline.  Two and a half years ago he actually died and was brought back to life, but only to be so weak he couldn't walk anymore and could only eat pureed food that was spooned into his open mouth like a frail little bird being fed by his mother.  He was on hospice for six months before he was booted out because he just kept on keeping on. I often wondered why he kept on fighting, his quality of life was so poor.  Even this last week the nurse said that he only had a few more minutes to live, so I called my brothers who drove to the hospital to say their goodbyes. Dad lived another day. Why?  For what was this thin, frail man still fighting?

My single father and his brood of six. I'm holding onto his leg.

I think it is pretty safe to say, that Dad was hanging on for his kids.  He loved us and we all knew it.  He had adopted three children and had three children of his own, when he found himself a very single parent of six.  He owned and operated a logging company, working hard during the day, then coming home to six children who clamored for his attention. He played guitar and sang to us, held our hands and made us laugh with his silly jokes and funny faces. When he married again, we added a step-sister to our fold, then he and my step-mother broke the long run of girls by having two very loved boys together.  He wrote and sang silly songs about their childhood and attended every game they were in, no matter how tired he was or how much his back hurt.

My dad worked hard, played hard, and loved with everything in him.  When any of us kids would say, "I love you Dad", he would answer back with great emotion, "I love you more than anything". He taught me to love without bounds, to laugh for no reason, to express joy, sadness and tears without reservation.

We shared a love of nature and working hard outdoors.  I helped him set fence posts and tend the garden, and he walked through the forest with me teaching me the names of trees and birds. We enjoyed digging clams together and shucking oysters on the beach. He patiently taught each of us girls how to tie a hook, bait it and catch a fish. Well, he tried. Often he spent the entire day just untangling our lines, never complaining that he didn't get to fish even once. He always had a small boat and I loved to go out fishing with him.  One time he laughingly accused me of "chumming," because the waves of the lake had gotten a bit much for me.

My dad was real,sometimes glibly making bad choices and sometimes he just trusted the wrong kind of people. He wore the two-word title, "A Character" from anyone who had spent any length of time with him.  At one point Dad felt the current sum of his sins just might be getting a bit larger than he was comfortable with. This brought him to the decision to be baptized a second time,because so much had happened since the first one, and he wanted to make absolutely sure of where he was going when his time came!

I'm happy my dad has been released from his tired and broken body, but I find myself trying to adjust to not being tethered to him and feel a bit adrift, and as irrational as it is,maybe just a tiny bit afraid to handle the world again without one of my parents.

Goodbye Dad, I love you more than anything. Thank you for loving me my whole life.

A Time to Plant and a Time to Uproot

At the end of each school year all the beautiful art created by students; all the bright seasonal decorations, learning incentives and affirmations, are wistfully removed and the teacher and her students are left with a bare classroom; an austere contrast to the beauty and life it held earlier. 

I'm reminded of this ritual of my past as I nostalgically cut back the flowering perennials in my garden each fall. However, the act of saying farewell to the flowers is admittedly made more easy by their unattractive fall look. I've been busily removing sodden brown flowers, limp blackening leaves, and tall stalks bending heavily towards the soggy earth The clouds and breezes have now fully gathered, and the leaves on the trees are emptying at a steady rate, their final bright colors waving a cheery send-off for the darker winter months ahead.

 Having grown up in Oregon and living the last couple of decades in Washington, I've been privileged to enjoy "many" autumns in the northwest. In late August, on a particularly lovely day, I received a call from my mother who said she was making pork chops. I knew what she meant without saying another word. My mother had experienced perhaps a slight shiver, a cool breeze, observed a subtle difference of color in her maple tree's leaves, or perhaps just an intangible feeling that our brief summer season had come to a close. I said, "Are you sure Mom...already?" "Yes", she said with certainty, "I can feel it in my bones". Cooking pork chops and applesauce is my mother's way of acceptance of the close of summer and an open invitation for fall to come magically in with its paintbrush loaded full of intense passionate colors.  

The salmon streams near her home are now thick with spawning salmon, and the maple trees are making up for their lack of leaves by housing great numbers of crows resting with their wings tucked in tight, between their raucous raids. I'm planting alliums for the first time this fall, their big bulbs promising large purple-swaying globes of color in late spring.

Fall is already coming to an end, and the warmth of my family, friends, and the upcoming births of our first great-grandchild (and yes I married a man who has a few more"autumns" on me, and a previous family), plus a new grandchild, fill me with thankfulness and anticipation. The picture below is of my son and I this last weekend as he surprised me with a week-end visit from his home in San Diego.  We both share a love of nature and a walk through the forest to the beach brought our hearts closer as we foraged for the perfect shell, pebble or leaf and praised God for the blessings he has poured out so richly on us.

Psalm 108:4-5: For great is your love, higher than the heavens; your faithfulness reaches to the skies. Be exalted, O God, above the heavens, and let your glory be over all the earth.

"A" is for Apple Cider Mill!

We recently visited an apple cider mill about 40 minutes from our home for the first time, and what a sweet adventure it turned out to be! Lattin's apple cider mill is a favorite field trip for our area's school children and a fun family outing.  I spent much of the time wishing one or more of my grandchildren were with us and hope that someday they will. The mill is also a petting farm and pumpkin patch, and has vegetable and flower gardens that are offering the last of their bounty.  I've long had a curiously strong bond with goats, and goats were sprinkled throughout the farm for people to pet and feed.  The picture below shows a couple of high-rise goats in their element as children send up small amounts of food in buckets on pulleys, a mutually enjoyable activity.

A very debonair fellow whom I'm sure cannot resist...

The winsome smile of this cute little face.

The Cider Mill has games for children and their adults to play, including a large apple sling-shot that flung apples across a field in hopes of hitting a bulls-eye target.

Perhaps another apple remedy to keep the doctor away?

Now, we need to get to the exciting part,the part that will keep me going back to Lattin's cider mill year after year after year, because I currently have within me a deep longing,a memory that is so powerful that I can almost recreate it with my eyes closed, nuance by nuance...Lattin's fresh, warm, incredibly soft, delicately seasoned apple fritters. I don't think I have ever in my life tasted anything quite so perfect.  These apple fritters had a flawless blend of  texture, flavor, temperature and apple-essence. My husband and I ate our perspective fritters slowly,their soft cinnamon little apple pieces and tender dough filling our mouths with warmed apple Nirvana. We kept closing our eyes and muttering, "Mmm..." soulfully. Afterwards, we walked around the little barn jonesing for another but feeling too foolish to admit it...for about five minutes.

So...we went back for seconds, skipping lunch all together and not feeling the least bit guilty! We even bought some of Lattin's famous national award winning apple cider. A wonderful spicy treat that when warmed is perfect for a chilly fall day, proving even though our gardens are losing their beautiful flowers and vegetables for the season, the Washington apple is just getting warmed up!

*I personally don't think that Eve presented an apple to Adam, although it is a beautiful and cultivated fruit to be sure. I think, rather, she was handing him a pomegranate, using her womanly wiles in hopes he would get the seeds out. Enlightenment has its price. :)