A Lenten morning

     On a scale of one to ten, my morning started out around a minus three. You know that you are tired when you nearly fall asleep again while resetting your alarm clock for twenty minutes more sleep. Even worse is when the scenario is repeated twenty minutes later. Dashing downstairs after hurriedly dressing, I opted to skip breakfast and simply make coffee for my travel mug. Heading down the last flight of stairs to my front door, I mentally congratulated myself on getting out the door on time, despite everything. It was then that things started to fall apart. My Camry was nowhere to be seen. And no, it hadn't been stolen by thieves or vandals. Even worse. My husband had 'borrowed' it. I quickly ran back for his cars keys, then ran to his car. And realized that he had borrowed mine because his had decided to take this Monday off. To further complicate things, his car was parallel parked on the streeth, and the car in front had pulled up right against his bumper, leaving me the difficult decision of whether to 'nudge' the other car out of the way while pulling out. I'd like to say that being a good Christian this scenario never crossed my mind, but fortunately I didn't have to face that choice. The car was dead. And I was now running late for an appointment. So, I did what any wife would have done. I called my husband at work and grouched at him. And immediately regretted it. Being the kind, considerate husband that he is (in contrast to my grouchiness), he opted to leave work, come pick me up, and return the car to me for the day. I squelched the notion of pointing out that it was my car in the first place, and tried to concentrate on waiting patiently at the curb, sipping my travel mug of coffee, waiting for the caffeine to kick in and brighten my world. It was then that I discovered that this mug had developed a leak, and was dripping down the front of my sweater.
     I'm sure I'm not alone in believing that the best life is one that is directed by periods of reflection, prayer, and soul searching. Such times are invaluable for getting us back on track, for helping us to see where we have faltered and what areas in our life need some TLC. And like most of us, I fall far short of this goal. Too often I neglect to pray and truly listen, to seek out that still, quiet voice that comes after the whirlwind of pouring out our troubles, after the earthquake of some catastrophe in our lives. But this morning did in five minutes what it might have taken me an hour of quiet reflection to accomplish. It showed me exactly where I stood. It brought out my impatience, laziness, frustration, and unthankfulness and hung them on a billboard for all the world to see. And it was while apologizing to my husband that I realized the what my lesson for the morning was. It is not the glorious hallelujahs on the mountaintop that define or mature our spiritual life. It is our reactions to the mundane frustrations of a car that won't start, a list of things to do that gets derailed by a morning gone awry. It is in the struggle, for me at least, to learn to laugh at the terribleness of a morning such as mine.
     When I returned home later this morning, I went up to my kitchen, opened the blinds to the brilliant sunshine, and sat with a cup of tea, admiring the view of the distant mountains from my kitchen. I may have a way to go before I reach those mountaintops. And I expect that my life will include lots of times down in the valley, struggling with petty battles against impatience and ingratitude. But for this moment, I will admire the view, and thank my Father for the gift of a kitchen filled with the morning sun. For the realization of how little I appreciate things like caffeine until I go without them. And a new understanding of the season of Lent.

Sleeping Babies

     I held my little niece this afternoon while she slept, relaxing against my arms and heaving the deep sigh of one who is utterly content. There is a magical quality about holding a sleeping baby; all cares and worries melt away, and peace steals into your soul. For an instant, one touches the stillness at the center,  the eye of the storm. All is calm. And yet, this center cannot hold. This fragile peace slips away the instant we reenter the world of job stress, and financial worries, and wonderings about tomorrow. Drawn into the maelstrom that is life, we forget that peace, until someday, the shadow of a memory is stirred.
     Many of the psalms written by David are psalms of ascents, psalms composed to be sung when the Israelites were assembling for worship. They prepare the reader to worship God, and provide guidance on what our heart attitude should be. In one of my favorite psalms of ascent, David notes that he has calmed his heart, like a small child. He is not trying to understand the deep magic, the mysteries that we may never fully know. He comes to God as a child comes to a parent whom it trusts. It's possible to take this analogy too far, but it has taught me that I must come to God trusting that He will direct, comfort, and supply me with all I need. I don't need to worry about the big issues. I don't need to completely understand God. I only need to know that He is good, and that I can relax in His arms. And here, sheltered from the storm, I am utterly content.

Happy New Year!!!

Life Lessons

It was really the squirrel that started it all. When leaving my apartment one day, I took a moment to try to make friends with one of the many furry beings that spend their days dashing up and down the tall fir trees around our apartment. I stood still and spoke softly. It peered around the curve of the tree trunk with a suspicious squint. I advanced a step. It scurried up the tree, leaving a small shower of bark in its wake. It must have believed I planned to hold it up at gunpoint for its stored hoard of food. It was at this point that I abandoned my friendly overtures as a lost cause.

Now don't get me wrong. I think squirrels are lovable, quirky creatures. They are fearless, speedy, and I'm sure, occasionally, friendly. But this squirrel was much more interested in racing around its tree, dashing across the grass, and generally looking busy than in enjoying the fall colors or making a new friend. And that's when it hit me. I act like this squirrel far too often. I race through life, intent of getting to work in time, accomplishing my list of goals for each day, too often failing to take the time to really listen to the person in front of me, to savor the freshness of the air after rain or the slow unfolding beauty of leaves changing from verdant green to shimmering flame. I ask for this wish to be granted, or that dream to happen now, when I am surrounded by the blessings of family, friends, a husband. I thought that God's answer was 'wait', when it was really 'wait and learn'. Savor this time, this moment, this array of blessings. Go deeper, further up and further in, unpack the treasures that I have given you.

Starting down this path was like looking up and suddenly noticing the turning of the leaves. Wherever I go this week I am surrounded by fall beauty, burnt umber and auburn and dusky yellow and crimson flame. I realized that whatever God chooses to give or withhold from me in the future, I have enough. I could spend a lifetime listing God's blessings, and not reach the end. And I am learning to see past the dim outline of each gift, and discern behind it the love and wisdom of my Creator. I still see this only darkly at times. I wait for the time when I shall see this clearly, in the full light of day. But for now, I look up at the hillsides of trees turning ever brighter, and know that I am beginning to see. And it is enough.

More Thrifty Tips

I've recently been doing some spring cleaning, which always includes deciding if you really need such and such, or whether you can happily toss it in the Goodwill bin. And, as I've found, the less you need to stock, the less you buy. So here are a few more tips of cheap items with a variety of uses.

1) Woolite fine washables detergent: Great for hand washing delicate items. Also, a great stain remover. Use for removing everything from ketchup (dried on) to fabric dye.

2) Baby Oil: Scummy looking faucet? Remove water stains with baking soda, then rub with baby oil. The oil will make dull faucets sparkle again and will keep the metal from water deposits.

3) Pond's cold cream: Use this as for facial soap and makeup remover (as long as you wear washable mascara). Very gently on skin, and one jar lasts a long time.

4) Olay facial moisturizer: This only has one use, but I had to include it. Moisturizes wonderfully, never greasy, and reduces redness, esp. in winter. Highly recommended!

The Distant Land of My Father, by Bo Caldwell

Set in Shanghai in the 1930's, this novel is narrated by Anna, daughter of a millionaire and grandaughter of missionaries, who gradually learns to understand the mixture of talent and weakness that is her father. Anna spends the first seven years of her life living in the International Settlement of Shanghai, going on weekly excursions with her father, who teaches her Mandarin words, the names of trees and flowers, and gradually introduces her to the larger world of Chinese culture. When her mother flees with Anna to her childhood home of California to escape Japanese occupation, Anne must learn to adapt to a new culture, a new grandmother, and the realization that her father may never join them.

I enjoyed the haunting quality of this book. The characters were so real that I didn't want to book to end. It also offered an interesting look into the day-to-day life of living in Shanghai and how a city was changed by the occupation of the Japanese and the coming of communism. Caldwell is also a master of showing how deeply place can affect a person. Joseph Schoene, Anna's father, is driven much of his life by his love for Shanghai, a love that for a time overrides his love for his wife and daughter. Anna, in learning to say goodbye to her father and the life she had in Shanghai, grows to love her new home in California, a process which changes her and protects her against uprootedness. Because of this, she is able, later in life, to understand what drove her father to make his earlier mistakes..

March Snowstorm

Our kitchen window





















First Street
















Tree gnomes in front of the 1912 Center

Winter Snapshot