An Over-Flowing Heart

Be at rest once more, O my soul, for the Lord has been good to you. Psalm 116:7.

I have so much to share! First of all, our newest family member, Oliver Atticus Walter has finally arrived! He is a perfect in every way, and our family is just over the "Super" moon with excitement and thankfulness. Cast your eyes on this handsome lad:

I was privileged to help my daughter for a week when she came home from the hospital with Oliver on Mother's Day, no less. This was an especially touching event because 28 years earlier I had brought my daughter home from the hospital on Mother's Day.  Mother's Day cannot get any better than that! The joy of holding this snuggling, precious gift was like refreshing water percolating through dry pebbles. I felt joy trickle through me until I could do nothing more than cry out my thanks to our heavenly father for He has indeed been good to us.

While at my daughter's my granddaughter Greta and I reconnected in our joined love of gardening.  Greta is only three and a half but she loves the outdoors, digging in the soil and watering plants just as much as me!

I got a secret thrill when she would stand at the door and plea, "I need to go out and garden!" I won a  child's gardening set from Seattle's horticulturalist and TV personality, Cisco Morris, while there and Greta was so excited when I arrived home with new tools for her collection.  I also won a $25.00 gift certificate and was on the radio as I asked Cisco what could be going on with my declining roses on the south end of my rose garden. Alas, I even stumped our pro, because it would appear I'm doing everything right. He suggested I give up on the roses and plant something like red-twigged dogwood, ha! I'm not quite ready go call it quits, so I will give them one more summer to perk up and show me they remember their past glory days.              

I could hardly believe the changes in my own flower beds when I returned.  The new mulch has been just what my plants needed!  My two blueberry bushes are loaded full of green berries, signaling their acid loving approval over their cow manure and bark mulch blanket.  Leaves are vibrant and colorful, and flowers are blooming everywhere I look, with pink and lavender being the predominate colors.

Alliums are a tall and fun new addition this year.

These clematis blooms are making their first appearance after being planted three years ago!

The Azalea's give such a splendid show out my kitchen window.

This is the rainbow weigela I won at a garden show last year. I love its pink flowers.

My soul is indeed at rest, for the Lord has been good to me and I am blessed beyond my wildest dreams! A loved one is having success with a long-term struggle, we have new babies in our family, and my son and his family may be moving back to Washington from San Diego in the next few weeks. It seems the earth is responding in joyful celebration of colors and texture and my heart is tender and over-flowing with emotions and gratefulness. Great is your faithfulness O Lord, your works and grace are present, and I am blessed.

Nesting

"...A time to tear and a time to mend, A time to be silent and a time to speak". Ecclesiastes 5:2

Have you forgotten me? It's been almost two months since my last entry and as the days away from my blog grew longer, the feeling that I have anything relevant to add to a conversation seemed to grow.  For you see, I've been nesting. This has been a time where I've had to pair down my life to the very basics and rest around my little home in anticipation for the day when I could leave the nest with renewed energy, walk once more through my forest trail to the beach, and work in my flower beds fighting the good fight with the weeds and the critters once more. 

I began my adventure with an severely abscessed molar which needed a root canal and a course of antibiotics. Once that was managed, I began taking care of my daughter who was sick with the swine flu while in her early ninth month of pregnancy, poor sweet girl. The final two days there I began getting tired and the evening I returned, well, I just hunkered down and got sick. An infection was diagnosed and I began new antibiotics. Several beautiful sunny days were expected so I thought, "Hey, I'm on antibiotics and should get better in a day or so, so I guess I'll order 10 yards of mulch consisting of 1/2 steer manure and 1/2 ground bark"...my fever obviously was beginning to make irrational thoughts seem brilliant.  I began weeding the winter weeds away and worked for two days with a fever that kept climbing higher until I knew that there was no way that huge pile of mulch in my driveway was going to be moved by me.

My husband began the work without me as my fever climbed to 103. I hired my friend's teenage son for a few hours one day, but my husband labored for three days bringing the mulch to the back yard flower beds.  I don't know which was more painful watching my husband who hates yard work do the work I love on those three gorgeous, sunny days, or actually being sick.

My hubby worked long and hard and in the end he felt victorious and proud of himself and I...so very thankful.  My high fever and its gnarly side-kicks rested on me for almost two weeks and I received three straight days of antibiotic shots,and another run of antibiotics. I'm still gathering speed and have a bit more stamina to gather but I am definitely on the mend!

Whilst, in the midst of my illness new additions in my little nest were keeping me entertained. Check out my oyster mushroom garden!

And now I must introduce to you a new man in my life.  I can't seem to settle on his name, but have been given some excellent suggestions. In fact, I would love any suggestions from you, then perhaps I could finally put a name to this glorious man who for now resides in my kitchen but who will soon be in my garden.  I planted his hair and am in hopes of it falling down around his handsome face.

Well, that's it for me! I look forward to sharing more tidbits regarding my little piece of earth as I begin once more to venture out and investigate things like, "Why are the roses and tulips on the right side of the front flower bed considerably smaller, even though they were given the same soil amendments as those on the left and equal amount of sun?" Hmm...this is a question that needs an answer and may require a fair amount of sleuthing... is it insects, a virus in the soil, wascally wabbits, moles??? Does my soil need antibiotics too? Any suggestions?

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.