A leaky hose, or--something to be thankful for...

My hose has seen better days. It wasn't the top of the line to begin with, but now it has sprung more leaks than a "secret" session of Congress. When one spraying leak near the handle became a problem, I tried to fix it with tape. Now I have multiple leaks squeezing out around the tape in various locations. They spray out in a shower-like fashion in all directions. If I brought shampoo and soap out with me to water the garden in the morning, I could probably effectively get my shower in were it not for public decency laws!

I've been very grumbly inside in regard to this hose. I wanted to purchase a new one last weekend, but we didn't have room in the budget for it. This morning, tired of being literally dripping wet after watering the garden, I decided to "garb up" before going out. I cut open a kitchen garbage bag to fashion an apron for below the waist and wore a waterproof, bright red, smock-style apron on top (it was a gift made by my older daughter and I love it!). I'm sure I was quite the sight to any neighbors peering out to greet the day!

I was pretty pleased with myself for being able to stay drier--in spite of my leaky hose, but still feeling irritated that I have to deal with the water dripping down my legs. As I was finishing up (and wondering if I could convince my husband that this hose problem falls into the budget category of "emergency fund") when my eye caught what I thought was the largest dragonfly I had ever seen. It was approaching rapidly and seemed headed directly for me. Now, I can appreciate dragonflies as much as the next person--but from a distance please. I was just about to run away when I realized I was wrong. It wasn't a dragonfly...it was a hummingbird. It kept approaching until it was about two feet from me. I'm sure it was attracted by my bright red apron--thinking it had discovered the mother of all flowers! We sized each other up and I could read the curious confusion in its eyes as I admired its beauty. It hovered just in front of me for a good 30 seconds before deciding maybe I wasn't a flower after all--at which point it sped away.

For my part, I was left in speechless awe. I had never been that close to one of these most elusive of God's creatures. It was absolutely breathtaking in its beauty and fragility. I was flooded with that tingling joy that reaches to your toes. What a tremendous blessing!

As I squelched back to turn off the hose, the thought occurred to me that were it not for my red apron, the hummingbird would not have been likely to approach me...and were it not for my leaky hose, I would not have been wearing my red apron...

It's funny how if we are willing to work through a challenging circumstance and make the best of it until it can get better, God can use it to bring us blessings we would not have thought to ask for--like an up-close view of a hummingbird. I think I need to take stock of what other "leaky hoses" I have in my life and find ways to work through the challenges they present instead of just whining and complaining about them. Maybe then, the blessings will start springing out in all directions like...well...a leaky hose!

Falling in a Hole...

By falling in a hole, I am not referring to where I've been for the past 7 months.....suffice to say as we wrapped up the end elements of dealing with my youngest's kidney issues, many things in my life had to take a sabbatical and this was one...

No, by Falling in a hole, I am referring to a news item you may have heard about wherein a 15-year-old girl in New York's Staten Island fell into an open sewer hole because she was too focused on texting on her friend's cell to pay attention to where she was going. If you missed this particular item, here's a link where you can check it out: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/31853449/?GT1=43001 (you may have to cut and paste).

A quick summary is that the men who were working in the hole had stepped away for a few minutes to fetch some cones to block the area. True, it would have been more prudent for them to secure the cones before lifting the man-hole cover. In my mind, however, their lapse does not entirely dismiss the fact that this girl failed to notice a hole in front of her that was between 2 and 3 feet across! Although her daughter was only superficially injured (scrapes and bruises), her mother has already stated she plans to sue the city. This, I'm sure, will really help this girl learn to take responsibility for her own stupid choices--not!

The reason this story has been on my mind is not only because this girl is such a poster child for the myriads of brainless teens out there who have completely unplugged themselves from real life, preferring to live in an electronic fantasy land. I could go on for pages about that topic and my general contempt for it, but I digress....

As I have pondered this story, I realized what a wonderful example it will be to share with my kids...a teachable moment. It is such a good example of how we humans tend to live our lives....we walk along doing what we want to do, when we want to do it. We completely ignore our surroundings and fail to keep our eyes open for danger that may be coming our way. When we fall into our own "holes", many of us respond much like the mother in this story--we want to look over where our own choices may have set us up for our fall and instead look for someone else to blame for our unfortunate circumstances.

This girl's mother is missing a golden opportunity to teach her child real life lessons that could help her for her future. Although I would hope she would not fall into the same kind of hole, she will fall into some other kind of hole somewhere along the way and what her mother will have taught her is to look for someone else to pin the entire blame on! How sad.

Although I try my best to teach my kids to look out for life's holes, I know they will fall into their share of holes. My hope is that they will consider first what got them into this hole and take responsibility for themselves first. After that, I hope they know if they look up, they will see the merciful face of Jesus looking down into their hole and reaching down to pull them out and set them back on track again.

living like no one else...

One of the special challenges of choosing to make sacrifices today so we can be in a better financial position tomorrow is that we are left with some day-to-day circumstances that are quirky at best.

Take our microwave, for example. It's a perfectly good, operational appliance. I have no trouble with it...except that we keep it in the garage. We actually have one in our kitchen that can't be used, except to tell the time, as an over-the-stove light, and a stove vent. It's a bit of a story as to why we don't put the working one over the stove, but suffice to say that sometimes it's better for your marriage to accept inconveniences! It's not as if we don't realize that this is an unusual situation--and we've had it pointed out to us that it would be simpler to have a microwave in the kitchen. One four-year-old visitor to our house followed me in to the garage to pop popcorn and, after looking around her, offered this piece of helpful advice, "we keep our microwave in the kitchen..."!

My husband drives what we affectionately term, a "grandma car." And truly, it once was. This 1989 Oldsmobile Cutlass once belonged to a nice elderly lady who took it once weekly to the market and to church. It has much fewer miles on it than our 1999 Toyota Sienna! It also has a sagging interior on the ceiling, no rear view mirror, mold in the trunk and a missing seal on the driver's door (which isn't all that bad if you don't mind a perpetually damp left butt cheek and the fact that the floor on the driver's side once had enough moisture in the carpet that my husband found mushrooms growing there one morning!). Despite all these inconveniences, it runs very well--AND IT'S PAID FOR.

Our latest challenge is the kitchen faucet. Two mornings ago, the handle went all funny when I tried to shut it off and I had to use two screw drivers to get the water to stop running. I fiddled around with it a bit and got it operational again. So, now it's working fine--practically. If you figure that the hot water now registers at five o'clock, warm is somewhere between one o'clock and five o'clock and colder temperatures are somewhere between eleven and one (with temps after five showing tremendous variance)--IT'S ALL GOOD!

Some day, I truly believe, we will look back on all this with fondness. We will have newer--cars (hold the mushrooms!) and other conveniences. I hope we never forget these sacrifices, though, because besides helping us reach our future financial goals, they are helping us all build character and perseverance.

I envision the day when we are entertaining in our lovely home and one of my friends brings a dish to share that needs heating up. I will graciously tell her to follow me in to our beautiful kitchen and smile to myself when I tell her, "we keep our microwave in the kitchen!"

half-lit tree...half-lit me

The picture on the left is our Christmas Tree. A few days ago, the lower sets of lights stopped working. I have to say I'm glad it is the lower half--that way the tree still looks nice from the outside, through the window. You can't even see that the bottom half is dark.

Christmas Tree lights are different than I remember them when I was growing up. As a child, I remember that when my dad would get the box of Christmas lights out, my mom would bustle us kids away for a few hours while he sorted them out. The sorting our process involved laying each string out (and we had TONS!) and plugging them in. If a string didn't light, dad had to crawl along the string and check each bulb individually. This was a tedious and frustrating process involving much language my mom didn't think our tender ears needed to hear!

Today's lights are somewhat more forgiving. We have strings of lights that have a few bulbs that don't light, but they don't seem to keep the string from lighting. I guess they are only slightly loose or something. This seems like progress until you get the lights strung on the tree and then one bulb comes out or is loose enough to take out the whole string. Here's the trouble: it's much easier to check each bulb on a string that is laid out on the floor than it is to try to follow a winding string of lights through a tree!

So, our tree stays half-lit. It only shows if you come into our house while it's switched on. If you keep your distance, you can't even tell. So, not too many people know. But I know. I thought about otherwise occupying my children (because of their tender ears!) for a while so I could go through the process of tracing the string through the tree and find the source of the darkness. It seems like it would be the only way to fix this problem. But, I decided against it. Partly because Christmas is over and the tree would come down soon anyway, but there's another reason.

See, this half-lit tree reminds me a little of myself. At this time of year when I'm prone to looking back over my year and assessing things, I have not been seeing things too brightly. To be honest, as I wrestled for most of the year with the health issues thrust upon us with our youngest, I realize that I am pretty worn out. I think I may even have a few "bad bulbs." Most people don't realize this because they can only see the part of me that shows--like the top half of our tree that shows through our picture window. If they keep their distance, they don't even know I'm only half-lit. But I know. In fact, I realize that rather than taking time to find the "bad bulb" on our Christmas Tree, my time would be better spent in looking for the places inside me that have come loose and need replacing or tightening. I think it will be a painstaking and tedious process, but well worth it.

I'd like to go into the New Year fully lit....

rhythmic healing

A few days ago, the kids and I were invited to visit a friend's dairy farm. It was quite an experience to view the process of feeding, milking and shifting the cows from one area to another.






A big highlight for the evening was feeding the calves. This dairy had a busy month with 16 calves born! The kids were thrilled to be able to feed the babies that were only 3-4 days old. One had just been born that morning!



My friend showed us some of the developments they were making and their arrangements to move the calves' quarters to higher ground because of the propensity for flooding in our area. It's all a huge amount of work.






The whole visit was wonderfully educational and I was pleased that the kids were able to learn some things first hand about this field.


I was able to learn some things first hand, too. See, my friend and her husband recently marked the second anniversary of the death of one of their sons in a hunting accident. Because it happened on their own property, the reminders have been frequent.















I wondered how they could have managed to keep up with all the work while going through the grieving process. My friend shared that, actually, the work was their saving grace. The rhythm of all they had to do every day was what kept them going....the constant, predictable, rote, neccessary work, provided just the outlet they needed to process the pain. Besides that, cows don't feel uncomfortable if you cry when you're filling their water trough!



Sometimes I find it hard to get past difficult issues in my life. I try this and I try that and it seems like I still have trouble processing my pain. Perhaps what I need is some pattern or routine in my life to bring the rhythmic healing I need. I don't think I'm quite up to the challenge of dairy farming, but there must be some other way I can add this into my life. Generally, adding something new to my life seems daunting. I feel busy and frantic enough. This feels different, though. This type of adding will, I think, result in less panic and more peace.

wax or clay?

Over the weekend, we listened to a CD that could currently make it on the radio station's, "Classic from the Attic" segment. As much as I hate to admit it, most of my favorite music falls into this category, but that's beside the point....

One set of lyrics really stood out to me:

"the same sun that melts the wax can harden clay,
the same rain that drowns the rat will grow the hay,
and the same wind that knocks us down--if we lean into it
will drive our fears away..."

Usually when I get a song lyric stuck in my head, it's some idiotic phrase that just about drives me insane, but this one was different. It just played over and over and made me consider its deeper meanings for me.

This year has been full of sun, rain and wind for my family. As we have worked through our youngest daughter's serious health issues, it has sometimes felt overwhelming.

This lyric is a poignant reminder of my "choice in the matter" of the trials I'm facing. I don't get to choose my trials or how they present themselves. I do, however, get to choose the way I'm going to face them. It's my choice to be wax or clay. I'm in charge of whether a difficult circumstance leaves me soft and pliable--moving in the way God directs. Or, I can allow myself to become hard, dried out, cracked and ugly--an immovable visual of despair.

Today, I'm choosing wax. I want to remain moldable in God's hands. And like candle wax, I want to provide the fuel for the Light to keep shining.

For my MOPS readers...

The Name Game

Cleopatra….Eleanor Roosevelt…Marie Antoinette….Julie Andrews….. I have been labeled with all these identities—that is in a game our family likes to play. We call it the name game. Each person gets a name taped to their back and then asks questions until they guess who it is correctly.

I do not enjoy this game nearly as much as the rest of my family. For me, it's too much like real life. Every time I turn around, I feel as if I have yet another identity taped to my back—and I have to ask all the right questions to figure it out. Some are easier than others. Diaper changer. I get that one…if it smells or leaks—change it! Some are harder. Bill payer. I don’t get how that one works out most of the time (although, by God’s grace, it somehow does!).

The thing about the identities stuck to me is that they all require me to do something. I am weary of doing. When do I just get to be? That’s one of the greatest things about coming to MOPS. I get to be a friend. I get to be a part of a discussion that is stimulating (with actual adults who never once pick their noses while they speak to me!). I get to be someone separate from my kids for a little while.

Maybe after I have those breaks at MOPS, I’ll be better able to figure out all my other identities. Maybe I’ll even look forward to trying out a new identity. Or maybe I will just stick with Cleopatra….imagine what I could do with that kind of power!