Never Lose Heart

Sometimes life deals us a disappointment. Some are minor; others are so bad that we almost want to die. The one I was dealt today falls somewhere in between. Out of the blue it came – changing my day from one that was supposed to have been very happy to one of the worst days of my life. One thing went wrong causing an avalanche of other mishaps and my emotions plummeted from the highest peak to the deepest pit in short order! I wondered for a while if I would find my way back. But thanks to my faith in God and His mercy, I know I will.

Some people seem to have no trouble dealing with unpleasant things and putting them behind them right away. I’m not one of those; I’m a wallower. After sufficient wallowing time, I can usually let things go... or at least, accept them and go on. My daughter says, “If it bothers you, don’t think about it!” And she doesn’t. Everything goes “on the back burner.” What worries me about that is that one day; all of the stuff on the back burner will come rushing to the front at once. Then what?

My son has a nice theory, too. He says, “Don’t worry about anything. It’s not worth it. You can’t do anything about most things anyway so just go on with your life and things will take care of themselves!” And then, there’s my husband – who never worried a day in his life! His little nugget of wisdom goes like this, “Why should I worry? You worry enough for both of us.” Sure wish I could follow any or all of these examples. I try but it’s just not in me. I suffer a lot more, of course, but, unfortunately, we are what we are. We can’t change just because someone tells us to.

So tonight, after wallowing all day, I picked up a little purple book by Frances J. Roberts that was a gift from my husband. It has 365 one-minute meditations in it. I read it every day, usually in the morning, but today was different. Perhaps it was meant to be that way because I needed the advice more tonight. The meditation for today reads as follows:

“Never lose heart when confronted by disappointment. Remember always that I control all that touches you, and as I move to order your life, I not only open the right doors, but close the wrong ones. Whenever a wrong door is closed, it is by My hand as much as when the right one opens. In this way, I not only bring you joy but spare you pain. Trust Me. Have I not said that nothing shall harm you?”  Inspired by Luke 10:19.

Two Special Witches

     My daughter and I were talking one day about how quickly time passes.  Even though the temperatures were still reaching the nineties almost every day, we were ten days into August and we who live in this part of the country know that the weather could change drastically any day now. Usually, by the end of August - sometimes earlier - you literally start to smell fall in the air. Suddenly the sunny days are cooler, skies bluer, and nights are almost cold. The constant humming of crickets fills the air, and leaves start to change into a myriad of colors as Mother Nature prepares to flaunt her most magnificent season!
     My daughter, who loves fall as much as I do, confessed that one of the reasons she loves it is because she looks forward to Halloween. Then we started to reminisce about past Halloweens. One of our favorites was a few years ago when Izzy, the newest member of our family at the time, was dressed up as a witch. She looked so cute! 

Coincidentally, Izzy's Aunt Toney dressed as a witch that year, too.

Sweet Memories

I remember waking up, as a child, to the wonderful aroma of bacon frying and coffee percolating. It was comforting to go padding into the warm kitchen and find my mother fussing over the first meal of the day.

The table would already be set with glasses of fresh orange juice at each place, and my mother would be standing by the stove frying bacon and eggs. There would be a plate of buttered toast on the table and a jar of jam nearby. Sometimes, she’d make pancakes, waffles or oatmeal instead of eggs. My favorite was blueberry waffles.

What has happened to the family breakfast?  Not only breakfast, but other meals have suffered also with the passing of time. Having been a homemaker for many years, I have no trouble creating a couple of pie crusts or a batch of biscuits from “scratch.” But today’s need for two pay checks and the advent of the working mother have left no time for learning or practicing the art of making homemade goodies.

Once, when my daughter and her family were visiting, I made homemade waffles. My young grandson toddled sleepily into the kitchen, climbed into a chair and waited while I placed a waffle on a plate, slathered it with butter and topped it off with warm maple syrup. I put the plate in front of him, expecting a display of happy surprise. But instead, he eyed the plate skeptically, pushed it back a few inches, looked at me and said, “Give me a real one.”

Sadly, a real waffle, to his generation, comes out of a box that is kept in the freezer. I’m not knocking frozen food. The convenience of it on a busy day is much appreciated. And I think it’s wonderful that today’s active young mothers have the very able help of Betty Crocker and Mrs. Smith. But something has been lost, to be sure.

One summer day, long ago, my favorite aunt and I spent the day picking blackberries in anticipation of a big bowl of my grandmother’s cobbler, which she made while we were taking our evening baths. She covered the warm blackberry mixture with milk and, after we devoured it, she tucked two sleepy kids with warm, satisfied tummies into bed. What a wonderful memory!

What kind of food related memories will today’s children carry in their hearts forever?  Will they always prefer frozen waffles?

Or will they ask for a real one, “like grandma used to make.”

Enough Joy to Fill a Book

I once read that Thomas Kinkade, well known artist and writer, keeps a “Joy Journal” and highly recommends that others might benefit from doing the same. Mr. Kinkaid wrote: “Life is a grand blessing, but it’s one that is made of tiny and simple joys. Every day, joys abound. It is a matter of perspective. For every trial there is a joy. For every loss there is a gain.”

I was so impressed by those words and the idea of keeping a joy-journal that I started one that very day. The concept is that you write only the things that bring happiness and joy to your life. Nothing bad goes into your Joy Journal! I think of it as a unique and pleasurable way of counting my blessings.

My first entry was about a birds’ nest that was in a tree right outside my living room window.  It was situated on a large limb so close to the window that, from my vantage point, I could look straight into it. First thing each morning, I’d run to the window and check on the three baby robins that were in the nest. Sometimes I’d see them awaken, stretch, and flap their wings, though they weren’t nearly ready to fly. “Testing their wings,” I thought. 

They’d peck at each other a bit, reminding me of human siblings bantering back and forth, and then they’d settle down – beaks open wide – and wait for their mother to provide breakfast. They seemed to know exactly when she’d be there. Suddenly, she’d appear, worm dangling from her mouth, perch on the outer rim of the nest and lovingly feed her three babies. That sight so overwhelmed me, each time I watched it, that tears often welled up in my eyes and spilled over.

I was reminded of Matthew 6:26 which says: “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?”

That same nest was used every spring for three years. The excitement I felt while observing each new family of robins never waned. But I was always a little sad when, one morning, I’d run to the window eager to watch them have their breakfast, and the nest would be empty!

I’ve written in my Joy Journal many times since then. There are entries relating the sheer delight I felt with the birth of each new grandchild, and the fun I had watching them grow and learn about life. I’ve recorded the always welcome visits from each of our children and grandchildren, and the many wonderful holiday celebrations we’ve enjoyed with them. There are also descriptions of lovely weddings, graduations, and dance recitals. The list is long. My Joy Journal is almost full. “My cup runneth over.”

Thomas Kinkade is right. Joy abounds every day! All we have to do is throw our arms and our hearts open wide and accept it.

This story also appears in my book, Somewhere in Heaven My Mother is Smiling~

Out Of The Darkness ~ Into The Light

Since I had errands to run today, I was happy to awaken and find that last night’s rain had stopped, the sun was shining and it was a beautiful morning!

After breakfast and a few chores, I was on my way. Heading for the Interstate, which is my usual route, I abruptly changed my mind and decided to take another road – the one less traveled.

A true country road, with only two lanes, it could easily qualify as one in the famous John Denver song, Country Roads. All along the way, there are two story frame farmhouses—some complete with tin roofs and weather worn barns. A few newer brick ranchers dot the landscape, appearing out of place.

I passed a little frame schoolhouse, a white country church with a red door and a tall steeple, and I saw cattle grazing on a beautiful, sunlit grassy knoll. Two small children frolicked with a big black dog, evoking memories of my own childhood. Taking my time, I enjoyed every mile—each of my senses playing a part in my “being in this very moment!”

Encountering a slow moving tractor, I almost had to stop, but after a few moments, the driver noticed that he was holding me up and moved to the side of the road to let me pass. He waved like an old friend.  I smiled, thinking how different it seemed here… only five or six miles from home.

In one place, tall trees lined each side of the road like soldiers. Their lush green branches stretched over the road, touching at the top to form a shadowy tunnel. Driving through near darkness for about a quarter of a mile before emerging into sunshine again, it occurred to me that this country road was similar to the highway of life.

For long periods, everything is sunny and life is good. Then suddenly, we hit a patch of darkness. Sometimes it lasts for quite a while—but with perseverance and the grace of God, we make it through, emerging into the light once more!

I remembered a time when our family waited for a decision that could have changed our lives forever. On the day we were to hear this decision, it was dark, dreary, and pouring rain when we headed for our destination. Fearing the worst outcome, our moods were as dark as the sky. When we arrived, we were sent to a waiting room with a big window. I stared out at the black clouds, a silent prayer in my heart and mind. 

Suddenly, the dark clouds parted and the sun shone brightly between them, nearly blinding us! The fear I had felt was replaced by a wonderful peaceful feeling. Shielding my eyes from the sun, I put my arm around my daughter and said, “It’s going to be all right.” Wiping tears from her cheeks, she said, “I hope you’re right.”

 

I was. The decision was positive; the rain had stopped and we walked out into bright sunshine, knowing that God's grace had been sufficient to carry us through one of the darkest times of our lives.

Unfortunately, there are tunnels of darkness for all of us on life’s highway.  Funny thing about tunnels: the only way out is through! If we just keep moving - with faith and confidence - we can rest assured that we’ll make it safely through the darkness and back into the light again.

Finishing my errands, I hurried home, feeling refreshed and blessed by my pleasant excursion. Slowing the pace had given me time to see beauty that often goes unnoticed and to reflect upon some of the dark days of my life, while remembering to be thankful for the many times I had walked in sunshine.

Turning into my driveway, I promised myself that I would definitely take the “road less traveled” more often. It was well worth the extra time!

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You might want to check this story out, too. 

My Beloved October

While I was passionately professing my love for October to a friend, she said, “Talk about waxing eloquent!  I thought I was listening to Elizabeth Barrett Browning for a minute there.”

I told another friend I felt a “stirring” inside, and she asked, “Are you expecting?”

Giggling, I answered, “Of course not! It’s October!"

Perhaps I am a little too exuberant about fall. But after a long, hot summer of watching those around me juggle already overloaded schedules in order to pack in more summer fun—I’m tired and ready to relax.

Today, it is 69 degrees and sunny with clear blue skies and a slight breeze. Leaves of all colors are beginning to decorate my front yard and a tall maple tree is rapidly turning orange, casting a warm glow throughout my house. In the evening, the scent of autumn is distinctive. The moon is surrounded by a hazy glow. It is a restful time.

Trees and plants prepare to rest… and while they are resting, their underground roots will prepare for a rebirth and the flourishing of new growth in the spring. 

My husband, who does not share my passion for fall, declares that there will be no rest for him until the leaves are raked. I appeal for a little more time to enjoy them, but it is to no avail. He will dispose of them long before the last one falls, leaving in their place a dull, colorless landscape.

But I can’t worry about that today. My beloved October has returned—with its brilliant colors, cool temperatures and sunny, cloudless, azure skies, and I must enjoy it before it escapes for another year.

Fall is so beautiful, yet so fleeting. I never understand those who say they hate it because it is the forerunner to a long, cold winter. I think there is a lesson to be learned here about “being in the moment.” Many wonderful things are missed by worrying about what is coming later instead of enjoying what is now.

“Let me stay in this moment... forever!” I said aloud, as I drove home from an appointment this afternoon. The hills are speckled with color. Dazzling reds, oranges and yellows stand out amid dull greens and browns. Warm sunshine, less intense than it was a month ago, highlights the beauty of the mountains.

I think about how the changing seasons remind me of the cycles of life. Spring’s awakening, summer’s bounty, autumn’s harvest and winter’s rest… each one a beautiful experience.

I liken springtime to childhood and youth. With the support of a loving family, we learn about life, acquire our values and begin to venture out and explore things on our own. In time, we break away from family and enter into our summertime. There, we may establish a career, get married and raise a family—or both. Perhaps we meet God in this season. Ultimately, we find our own special identity and make our mark on the world. Our lives are so busy that we are unaware of how quickly time passes and, before we know it, we move into the autumn years.

Autumn—the harvest time of life—when all that we have done during spring and summer comes to fruition. We reap the rewards of a successful career, or the years we spent raising children. We may begin to come to terms with our mortality. Like plants in fall, we start to prepare ourselves for a well-deserved rest. This can be the most fulfilling season. Almost unnoticed, winter occurs. We continue to enjoy life. We grow spiritually. This, too, can be a rewarding time if we keep a positive attitude and resolve to live each day to the fullest.

This is October for me. Withdrawing into my own world, blocking out everything except the beauty of the season, my reflections, and my relationship with God, I find that this is enough to sustain me through the long cold winter, and beyond….

Finally!

IT'S OCTOBER!!