escape (borrowed from d-i-l)

yesterday was co-op.  not chaotic, but totally crowded.  after the needed nourishment provided by condiment-dunked corndogs, juicy imported cantaloupe, crisp baby carrots, sunny lemonade and baked-to-gooey-goodness chocolate brownies, when all the kiddos were outside, i made a cup of tea and plopped down in the mango and ivory striped beanbag chair in the close-enough-to-the middle of the smidgen-sized deserted island where the warm slight breeze blew my long wet spirals dry from my recent swim in the whitesand-covered aquamarine-colored ocean.  the refreshing fragrance of sweet jasmine and lilacs and lilies floated drift by drift around my lightened head, like a nectar-carrying worker bee around its hive. with closed eyes i could hear the lapping of the surf, the scouting pelicans flying overhead, the deliciously hot sand go “smish” between my toes……

the door slam.

two ponderings

december 3, 2011
girls will be 13 on epiphany 2012.  crazy stuff!
putting old ornaments on the new tree we got today from tree wisemans.
pondering past purchases….like the two years it took to find the one with a saint bernard.
sparkling cider.
fire in the osburn.
cold winter lager in the stein.
warmth in my heart.
oh, the amazing memories.  good ones.  icky ones, too.
culminating in today.
my God. You are the only, most immeasurable joy that this world has or ever will know.
new macs and idiot box.  yep, we’re sync’d.
focus factor & vitamin d doing their job.
wickhams christmases surround sounding me.
hmmm:)   music.  my bones dance.
my soul is at peace.  praise You: Savior, Covenant God, Lord of all…..of me.

january 6, 2012, 8:40 a.m.
13 years ago maybe not even up yet, no doc until 3
cali permitted only, parking in st. v’s garage
me wrapped in waddling clothes slouching in annie’s office
today or someone else, she said
ok
room 30 with cal, then rani at 6, dave and zack at 7
silliness til serious at 9
mattea at 9:30, baby b at 9:35
zoe on january 9 before we left
mahem and postpardum for the next 9 years
50 replaced postpardum
grace and mercy and bundles of joy throughout
silliness in twinsisterhoodness
growing. growing. gone
are the same days, forever it seems
fast now new ones, different every step
we travel
the Lord is in His holy temple and Jesus is our guide
my soul is at rest.  praise You: Sustainer, Sovereign God, Lord of all……of me.

December 2, 1980

Once there were two women who never knew each other.  One you do not remember; the other you call mother.

One gave you a nationality; the other gave you a name.  One gave you the seed of talent; the other gave you an aim.

Two different lives shaped to make yours one.  One became your guiding star; the other became your sun.

One gave you emotions; the other calmed your fears.  One saw your first sweet smile; the other dried your tears.

The first gave you life and the second taught you how to live it.   The first gave you a need for love and the second was there to give it.

One gave you up; it was all she could do.   The other prayed for a child, and God led her straight to you.

And now you ask me through your tears,  the age-old question through the years;  Heredity or Environment, which are you a product of?

Neither, my darling, neither.   Just two different kinds of Love!

“Thank you, Lord, for your special way of bringing children and parents together who need each other.”                                     “Legacy of an Adopted Child”   ~Anonymous

 

Ode To Dave and Bernie

It appears that the leaders of Mission to the World’s Native American ministry are scheduled to re-retire at the end of 2010.   Dear Dave & Bernie:    Although my participation has been limited, I have witnessed your undying love and commitment to the Native Americans and to the spreading of Christ Jesus’ gospel to them by every ounce of your being.  Thank you for teaching me about self-sacrifice.  Thank you for teaching me about God’s love by exemplifying it.  Thank you for all those cups of cold water you so diligently served to those in need…..and thereby serving our King.

I struggle every single day with what the Lord has for me – how I can serve Him more.  Bloom where you are planted.  I know that.  I believe.  Help my unbelief, O Lord!

May I be in “retirement” for 18 years serving others for Christ.  Thank you Dave & Bernie for your hearts and your hands.  Thank you for your dedication to the path God gave you.  I pray for my husband and I to serve our Living God as you have:  faithfully, selflessly, sacrificially, with ALL our heart, soul, mind and body.

 

story units

Helping a friend move a few things out from her storage unit into her new apartment, I casually coined the phrase ‘story units’, because we never really know the whole story behind why all these people need all this extra space to store all their stuff.  Maybe it’s not their stuff.  Maybe it is but their life is just on hold for a while.  Maybe it was a family member’s or a friend’s and they said they’d hold it for them.  I got a unit once when my father moved into the adult foster home.  His Alzheimer’s was getting the best of him.  I knew the end was inevitable, but didn’t want to just get rid of what was his before the end actually came.  Maybe God would give him an extra 15 years like that King in the Bible.  Maybe they’d announce a cure at the last minute.  Maybe.  Maybe I was just in denial of his death, because it meant that then I was closer to my own.  Not that death scares me.  On the contrary, some days I truly pray for my Lord to call me home.  But then am I really ready to say I’ve done all God has purposed for me on this earth?  It might not be more than cleaning and cooking……….or it might be.

Someone who had been there before was there again, pouring over the things in the unit and maybe rearranging to get some things out or put more stuff in.  We pondered aloud, but didn’t know for sure.  My friend has a story.  I had a story.  Who but those close to us know our stories?  God.   Thank you.  Not only does He know but He knows intimately because He has sovereignly appointed these paths for each of us.   “For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb.  I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.  Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.  My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth.  Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there were none of them.”  ~Psalm 139 is one of the most assuring verses in the entire created universe.

Even that word, universe  (uni = one)  One verse.  God’s verse.  His story.  We are His units.

home on the Rez

july 24-31 a group of folks from church travelled to the Colville Indian Reservation.  we go for many reasons.  first and foremost, because God has called us to.  second, because many of our Native American neighbors have become our friends – our family – as we have grown to know and love them.  third, how can they know the love & saving grace of Jesus Christ if they are not shown and told.  So, we go and show & love and tell.  Our hands and feet are those of our Lord, who said that if we give a cup of cold water to the least of them, we have given it to Him.  We build woodsheds, paint houses, do Vacation Bible School, chop & stack wood, pull weeds, sing, give gifts, give hugs, visit in the jails, have conversations, shed tears, eat, pray.  And that list is not exhaustive, nor in order.

above the Omak Longhouse

W on WA. 155, coming into Omak

high desert grasses/weeds cover the old sign

This was my third year.  Each time I have journalled my heart out.  There is so much to see and so many wonderful people to meet.  And I want to write it all down so I don’t forget a thing.  We are busy each day with all the projects etc.  Each time I have taken something much more valuable home with me than I left there on the reservation.  Not just friendships and feelings of accomplishment.  My heart is larger.  My head is smaller.  God’s Word is deeper.  Perspective and meaning have widened.  Life is clearer.

one of MTW's sought-after woodsheds

--but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Romans 5:8

sunset from Inchelium's viewpoint

The Native Americans are a tribe, a culture in transition.  Holding on to the ways of their great grandparents, yet sitting smack dab in the middle of a technologically progressive world.  Leaning on the guilt-driven provisions of the white man’s government, yet yearning for the honor and respect every man is due as an image-bearer of the Creator.  I would be confused and frustrated, too.  They have been cheated and lied to; promises being made and broken as casually as the latest fashions come & go.  How do any of us learn to trust again?  There truly is only one way.  And that’s why we go.  Jesus has made all the difference in each of our lives and we are compelled to go and share that love and that good news.  We want to show them we are sorry for what our ancestors did – how things were handled wrongly – we need to show them, not just say it or not say it and hope they’ve all forgotten.  Christ came to this earth – into our world – as the very first missionary.  Because He was sent by God who knew we needed to hear the good news….in person.  So, we, too, go because we are sent by God to be & tell the good news….in person.

fixin' up & paintin'

fast fun friends

Camp Disautel......so beautiful!!

and the underlying theme of this week seems to have been that we cannot put God in our neat little boxes.  Our ways are not His ways and our thoughts are not His thoughts – His are higher than ours  (Isaiah 55).  God will and does call people even from afar and in ways that we would never even dream of.  Just when we think we’ve got it figured out, God steps in and reminds us that we do not.   May God be forever praised for His glorious grace, mercy, justice, righteousness, holiness, truth.  All the little things we did on the reservation are not to be held in high esteem, it is our reasonable sacrifice.  God is at work on something far greater, that by each one of these simple deeds, His love would spread like wildfire throughout the land and He would be worshipped as the one true GOD, by all who will cry out to Him to be saved…..to be redeemed from all sin and unrighteousness.

above all, keep loving one another earnestly, because love covers a multitude of sins. 1Peter 4:8

Lentil Soup – “A Taste of Oregon” style

3 oz. salad oil
3 oz. bacon, diced (or use precooked bacon bits)
3/4 cup diced carrots
1 onion, diced
3/4 diced celery
3/4 cup flour
3 1/2 qts. water
1 cup lentils
1 tsp. salt
2 tsp. seasoned salt
4 T. beef base or 4 cubes beef bouillon
dash nutmeg
pepper to taste
3/4 cup diced potatoes

In a large soup pot heat salad oil. Add bacon, carrots, onions & celery. Saute until onion and celery are transparent. Add flour, stirring constantly. When flour is blended, slowly add water. Stir until blended. Add Lentils, all seasonings, beef base and potatoes. Simmer for 3 hours or more.

it is that simple

again with the can’t sleep.  so i’m downstairs reading all the blogs i haven’t read in a while.  thinking i should probably post something on my blog.  thinking who cares anyway.  who reads this stuff.  it’s like putting your heart on your sleeve or your life right out there for all to see.  all – the whole world.  okay so although i enjoy a good blogpost just like the next person, i still have this “thing” about my own thoughts on a device that gets viruses and is called a web.  reminds me of this crazy h1n1 thing that noone wants.  also reminds me of what spiders do to their prey.  does that happen to my words when i stick them out there on the web?  i don’t know.  it makes me think about the days before blogs and ipods and ds’s and yes even cell phones, although i must admit i use mine regularly – but that comes from many years of driving a vw van and needing to call the local towing company from remote places.  maybe i’m getting old.  maybe i’m getting tired.  maybe not.  maybe i’m getting smarter and life is getting simpler.  i truly wonder why we can’t all just be friends.  at least in the unity of our Saviour.  could it really be that simple?  does the good book really contain good news?  isn’t it that even while we were yet sinners He died for us – then tells us to do the same for each other?  i don’t have the same story as anyone else.  no snowflake is the same as any other snowflake.  my guess is neither are the stars the same as each other.  have you noticed the glory in the dying leaves?  are any of those the same?  so why is it that as humans, we expect others to be the same as us?  God doesn’t.  yes, we must be the same in order to be different and therefore be the same.  meaning, we must be in Christ to maintain our uniqueness that God gave each of us in order to love each other as Christ loved us and be in unity as He commanded us.

i think my mind works differently from most.  i have come to understand that i will not understand all this until i stand with Christ in the heavenly places.  this may be the reason for this post.  when the computer age goes tilt, will anyone’s journal ever be found and made into a book for all to read the history in that person’s lifetime?  will the computer age ever go tilt?  should we just blog on into oblivion?  or should i get out my journal?  i wonder what would have happened to george washington’s history had he blogged all his thoughts on the pages of space.  or robert louis stevenson’s? or what if beethoven was so busy blogging that his ninth was only a note, not a symphony.  or what about the letters with tattered corners from far-away places rubber-banded together in the dusty shoe box in the attic that were found after the old house was sold?  hands clutched those words, those hugs written by their spouse so many years before.  how can you savor those treasures when they don’t exist?   “and she clutched the old computer monitor – trying to remember all the wonderful notes he had blogged especially to her”    what if the Lord had just blogged the Bible.  then y2k really happened and all was lost?

okay i’ve gone too far.  must be the cynic in me.  maybe i’m just a romantic and i like the feel of a smooth pen too much.  maybe i’m addicted to journals.  like my aunt who was addicted to buttons.  or my ex who was addicted to alcohol.  now there’s another rabbit trail.  i guess maybe life isn’t so simple.  and maybe i’m not getting smarter.

i read those other blogs and i think that i don’t fit in.  i just can’t seem to tell cyberland how my garden grows.  or what my children did.  or what i made today.  sometimes i wish i could.  many times i compare my self to others and of course i come up wanting.   who would read my stuff anyway?  my folks don’t do computers.   what sort of wise counsel would draw others to my site?   i’m just a sinner saved by grace.

oh, it is that simple.      and now i can sleep.

Strawberry Jam

So just what is our fixation with food?  I would probably be fine with the ol’ 1-a-day if that would be enough to sustain life.  Now don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the benefits and pleasures of food:  all senses involved, the fellowship that is closely associated, the special celebrations that require special delectables, and yes, even the occasional squishy of fresh strawberries in the colander.  But ponder the reality of just how often we eat/snack/indulge (thinking of chocolate, here) in food.  It’s the first thing on my youngest’s mind in the a.m.  It’s always on the minds of my husband and my dog.  It takes too long to prepare for the time it takes to devour.  Although the salmon on the barby last night was marvelously worth the wait.  It can be an adventure, like Teya & I had making hummus & adding different spices etc.  Or it can be a mixed blessing, like making strawberry jam.  summer = strawberries. The firstfruits, as I see it, of the earth after the cold of winter and the wet of spring.  I do like the sweet taste and texture of the rosy-red heart-shaped treasures.  Especially the wild ones (maybe that’s just my nature).  They are too sweet for their own tiny size!  So we tackled the u-pick and came away with 48.5 lbs.  We were dirty, the berries were dirty, but the price was right & ripe for the pickin’.  And that’s another thing.  What’s up with the food references in tight places?  How’d I get in this pickle anyway?   Help!  Get me outa this jam!  Hey, we’re packed in here like sardines!  Well, he’s a hard nut to crack.

I guess I like the jam theme, ‘cuz once you’re in one, you might remember the sovereignty of God in ALL things, thereby pronouncing any particular “tight place” a jam – or rather a strawberry jam.  Because once you have been in the heat and the thick of things over the fire, poured out into the scalding jar, bathed in boiling water, left to cool off on the rack……

Someone in want of what you now have to give comes along and spreads your experiences over the bread of their life and it sweetens each bite.

Lord, let me remember – the next time I face trials of many kinds and consider myself to be in a jam – let me remember what Christ did for me and the sweetness He now brings to all situations and let me Rejoice in Strawberry Jam!

TRUTH

After many months of studying Ecclesiastes and witnessing God’s truths surround me in the lives of many, I am indeed the recipient of an amazing gift.  Truth.  Absolute Truth.  And here’s one for today:

Although I should always be praising God, it seems like I am the most satisfied during a trial.  Because I see more clearly the need to cling to my God – my life – therefore the depths of my REAL self, my soul, are more permanently filled; satisfied in their eternal longings, which at times are hidden from my temporal understandings, but which are always attended to by Him who put them there.  In this I greatly rejoice – in all my sufferings.  The desire to escape the hard things of this earthy life do not plague me to the extent they once did..  In fact, as outcast as this may seem, I am wary of the smooth days, the lovely days, the uneventful schedules-all-fulfilled days.  In these, I realize I should take a deeper breath, as a gift from my Lord, knowing the difficult lies just ahead.  I am still memorizing that.  But I, now, am more confident in Paul’s expression that contentment is great gain and that, as he has learned, so will I, to be content in all things.  To every thing, every time, there is a purpose.  Praise God for each one of those.  For in HIS time He makes all things beautiful.