Tag: blindness

A lowly friend

Published on by yvonneannetteLeave a comment

“There’s not a friend like the lowly Jesus, no not one, no not one… “. The classic hymn by Johnson Oatman Jr. has been running through my mind for nearly a month now. There are days when grief stricken and sad the tears come unbidden and beg though I try, they will not return from whence they came. There is only one thing left to do. Have a good cry and tell Jesus. He’s the only one who can truly understand my lowly state.

This morning my overnight vigil of sleeplessness hit me rather hard. I had not spent the night crying for “Our Father’s will” to be done. I had really just wanted to sleep. Every hour as my book ended it’s timed reading, my hand would reach for the smart book, and poke the 60 minute timer once again. This happened so many times that by seven a.m. when I hit the “timer” again, it really felt like 3 a.m. and I marveled that the light from the day was now invading my sleepless night.

“No One else could heal all our destress, no not one, no not one.” The morning did not begin so wonderfully. While the AI weather report boasted of a warm sunny day in the first week of February, my spirit was brooding over the lack of sleep, and the tears that were on my pillow all night, continued to spill forth. Really, why was I so crestfallen and despondent over just one night of lost sleep?

All my life I have set separated somehow. Either in a room or class of my own I’m not sure but togetherness has been a hard concept to grasp. Some call it sanctified to be set apart. First as a little tike, it was my size, my deafness, then my eyesight, then in a community where I was an outsider because I had entered the grade school later thatn the other. My “different” -ness kept me just outside the circle or comradeship. It just seemed to continue on all of my life. Through my school years I was the only one that whent home for lunch. Always looked at as a “goody two shoes” my mother even chose to take us outside of the town for church, setting us apart once again.

I finally felt like I belonged in college during the Inter-Varsity Bible study days. And when we were first married, I belonged to the family through my proximity to my husband. But then through the years, we chose a different way of bringing our kids through school. Home Schooling our girls all the way through high school, set us apart once again to be different. And thereby the lack of “friendships” occurred.

I never felt so alone while my girls were with me. I worked hard to think of the years as “preparation” for their futures. And I never felt so very poured out and empty as the year my baby-second daughter went off to college. There seemed to be nothing to keep me afloat anymore.

How could this new set apart feeling be “sanctified?” I wondered at times how I could make it into the next day let alone year or decade. Then I lost my drivers license because my peripheral vision had reached the point of legally blind. The pain that I felt in my aloneness and empty days was only filled once again, by hours of book reading and escape room lifestyle.

“Jesus knows all about our struggles…” In the days after empty nest syndrome, the realization that Jesus was the only one who really knew my day to day struggle became apparent. I tried to call my mother-in-law only to be laughed to scorn with her daily reports of who stopped in for coffee or where whe was at now. Some days it just hurt so bad to hear the report, I did not call. So I began calling my father more. He seemed to get me better.

So this morning when I finished my coffee and the tears were still rolling down my cheeks, I just wanted to talk to my dad. But I cannot. Because he died eight months ago. Four months after my mom-in-law, who died four months after my dad-in-law.

Even one Sunday morning when I found myself sitting alone at church, It occured to me how much of an “outsider” that I felt. The morning fellowship hour, or gossip hour feels so exclusive. Though our beliefs are community and togetherness the gossip hour can be so un-sanctimonious..

Where have I gone wrong? Have I gone wrong? Am I just meant to be seperated out from the mainstay? Am I registering a feeling that is not there? Am I taking too much stock in the “gossip” of others about others and not participating due to lack of knowledge? Or am I destined to be set apart as I have been all of my life because of uncontrollable circumstances…

“There is not an hour that He is not near us, no not one, no not one.” While I look at the past through my sleep deprived filter and consider being set apart due to my deafness, my blindness, my constant thrust into unknown community, my choices in life that poured me out into void and loneliness….. I am glad Jesus has been more constant that the weekly phone calls to my dad. Jesus has been more near that my mother-in-law’s daily visitor report. Jesus has been closer to me that the timed out book reader in the wee hours of quiet loneliness.

Being set aside for a purpose is the definition of sanctified. The Lord chooses whom He may to scrub down, clean up, refine, and move from ignoble to noble duties. Lord, prepare me to be a sanctuary, pure and holy, tried and true.

Yesterday afternoon one of those God moments happened to me. I had such a rough day, with my lack of sleep and tearful remembrances that I thought I should probably have tea in the afternoon. So I dug through the tea box and found one that seemed good for the soul. “Ginger Turmeric Honey” just sounding soothing. I made the tea, sat down with my snack near to hand, took a sip of the now cooled brew, and the floodgates were opened. There before me, was my father, tapping his annoying cane between his legs and telling one of his much repeated tales. The tears just would not stop. I ended up calling my husband at work to help me get through the grief stricken memory. The last time I had that particular tea was at his house and Wally’s wife had bought him some, for herself to drink while there. Oh, but the tears would not stop.

It’s crazy how certain things just take you back to a particular memory. Certain foods, teas, drinks, sounds of Wheel of Fortune wheel ticking, or whatever it is just surprise the mind into memory. And there you are, right back in the moment as if the past five years have never happened. Reality hits you smack in the heart and the spirit bursts forth like a waterfall.

I always liked waterfalls. Until it is tears and emotional remembrances. Yet I am so thankful that I have the memories. There are precious pearls that are not to be traded for the world.

My deafness as a child encouraged my parents to introduce me to music. And though the deafness set me apart within my school mates, (any time someone whispers in public I think it’s rude) it sanctified me in my ability to sit at the piano and focus on my lessons. And though I often feel separated from the fellowship of others, I feel sanctified when I sit at the piano and lead the congregation in praise and worship.

I am learning to look at this feeling of separation from the status quo as being “sanctified” rather than feeling “left out” all of the time. Feelings are not facts in spite of what these young people nowadays might think. Feelings are fickle useless things that often lie. And it is often the enemy of our spirits within to use feelings to trip us up and keep us stagnated self centered and judgmental of others. Somehow, we have to move from the lie of separation to the reality of togetherness.

One day while thinking upon all of this alone set apartness, I came across a video online about connectiveness. The phycological and spiritual explanation was that truth and reality is that we are all part of the “whole” not a singular drop can make up the ocean. One drop of salt water when in the ocean is part of the whole ocean. We as people individually make up the whole of human existence. It’s so hard to explain without the visuals. But with the fact that our community has lost three young lives due to “feeling alone” (suicide) made me rethink this feeling and reality truth.

“For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” John 3:16

Provocations

Published on by yvonneannetteLeave a comment

Don’t take the bait! This is the best advice that I have ever had or given when it comes to provocations. Whether intensional or exceptional malevolent another’s actions or speech can often drive an emotional response that even surprises the respondent. And yes, unfortunately I have been on either end of the action or spoken misstep. Yet, afterwards it’s my own emotional anxiety that is the temperature gauge that tells me, I took the bait. How did I fail so miserably with this recent provocation.

Letting go of intended or unintended sins against my personhood is part of the constant “forgiveness” lifestyle. Because whether people know it or not, feelings are fickle things, and words often hurt more than they are ever meant too. Forgiving current happenings are often easier than putting back the old dry bones in long lost family closets. Yes, Great Grandma Millie, everyone has skeletons in the closets. It’s those old wounds that fester and turn into anger cesspools when the cisterns are not properly dealt with and dug up when there are least expected. Just when you thought the gravel pit had filled it all in, suddenly there is a leak in the storage tank that was still there. Bother, here we go again finding another painful memory to rehash.

While dealing with the wills and trusts and those left behind things of deceased parents, much has come to mind of the fair treatment or unfair treatment that each child receives. Of course each child probably always thinks that another has the “favorite” treatment.

From the book “Anne of Green Gables”. A quote from Marilla Cuthbert while discussing the bringing up of a girl to her brother Matthew, “I’ve never brought up a child, let alone a girl, and I reckon I’ll make a fine mess of it, but nevertheless I will try my best.” Indeed every parent has made a real fine mess of parenting I dare say.

Lots of flowers in the greenhouse but these two get my attention most. summer gardenia and yellow kalanchoe.

So I suppose it best to take the advice of the old minister, unless you are a parent yourself, don’t give parenting advice. And of course, I have one daughter in the woes and bliss of parenting and the other in the woes and bliss of people management. Two entirely different occupations but nonetheless difficulties of relationships that arise regularly upon which advice is sought.

Being the peacemaker in the family is not my strong suit, but yet being in the ministerial position of come to terms with the moment’s of life is part of what I feel God has tasked me with. Or rather, maybe, finding peace with the life that God has dealt to each of us. I often see people in their moment of difficulty grasping for the answere that is only answered by our Lord.

In the middle of the “chips ahoy” remake. Not sure I like it, but the fabric is so wonderful. It’s the dark nature of the color combination. So even after a remake, it’s not what I would choose. Gavin helped with the color sequence.

I remember distinctly when my father, with a tear rolling down his face, admitted he was having trouble being patient. The only answer that I could give him was Jesus. God is the supply of our every desperate cry. And so, too, now when my family has arrived at a conclusion that is unexpected, some of us must look to His aid in our time of need. Keeping the peace and not letting this moment become a wedge that drives us apart is the battle cry that I have taken up.

Disillusions realized can be quite disheartening. Every adult-child finds themselves at one point or another in the understanding that a parent they thought was invincible or perfect, has toppled from their pedestal. I remember when I first realized that adults could be untrustworthy. At the age of sixteen or so, I was sexually assaulted by an elderly church member. Perhaps this is telling too much. My father stood up for me a resolutely refused to attend the church ever again, if there were no disciplinary steps taken. The church did not remove the elder’s status. My father never went to that church again. He took the opinion that church was full of hypocritical child molesters from that point forward. And to my dismay, my mother continued to attend the church freely forgiving the person who so dismantled my innocence. I never told the rest of my siblings that this was part of the larger puzzle that helped my parent’s marriage fall apart.

I saw this happen. I did not blame myself. For our family had done many a winter puzzles. I knew it was just one piece. But I found that I had not fully comprehended the battle that was going on between the two until decades later. My dad felt that just as this man must of abused me, perhaps my mother’s “spiritual” loyalty was in fact adultery or some other sin. He could not understand her choice to attend the church of an elder whom had so abused his daughter. Of course we won’t discuss his own abuse to he children and wife, that was family and his “right” to treat them as he did.

A small note about family genetics here… My father received the retinal disease RP from his mother, and he in turn passed it on to three of six children. Some find the possibility of blindness absolutely frightening, while those of us with the reality see it as just another part of living. Being legally blind provides a chance to understand that is okay to ask for help, because it gives another to discover the gift of giving. While one may find it difficult to ask for help, a blind person must. This character change moves one from blindness to discernment and those who are honest and helpful rather than seeking a reward for their labor are discovered. Discernment in personal character is not just gifted to some individuals. This “seeing” of another’s motive is learned by trial and error. My dad learned to “see” through people in a way that many people never can. Blindness is not always blind!

So there. The truth or some of the truth has been spilled. Provocations whether purposeful or not happen. Emotions and natural responses happen in the heat of the moment. Decisions are made that ripple throughout the decades. Just like Sarai’s choice to give her servant girl to Abraham, generations pay for the sins of the fathers and mothers no matter if restitution is paid. Choices have consequences.

While this is the most abstract painting that I have ever written, I hope that it has not provoked someone to anger or revenge. I have no desire to take on more than what I am responsible for. We alone can control our own actions. It is not up to us to judge or decide what another’s appropriate or inappropriate actions ought to be. Always and ever the only person we can control is ourselves. And so now in the light of past actions that have been revealed, once again it is only my reaction and my response to this moment in time that I can control and prevent a ripple effect that does not create a tsunami of emotions from others.

I pray for our family that we never led the past of the present divide us. God wants families to stay together, to work together, to love on another and be His voice to the world. Satan wants to steal, kill and destroy and I will not let him get a foothold in our family during this unsettling time. We will not make decisions in the heat of this difficulty that change the outcome of our togetherness over the future decades. Choices have consequences. And I will not regret my actions. I choose to love, to forgive, and to keep peace in the family.

Momentary Afflictions

Published on by yvonneannetteLeave a comment

2 Corinthians 4:16-18 “Therefore we do not loose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary affliction is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal.”

Thirty five years ago I woke up from anesthesia following an appendectomy and hear this little song in my mind as my conscienceless returned to me: “The birds upon the tree tops sing their songs, they lift their little voices all life long, so why can’t I? Why can’t you, Praise Him Too!” It has taken me nearly that long to understand that purpose statement in my life.

When my ears are nearly blowing up from the sinus pressure of a very long allergy season, how do I find my voice to Praise God? When the wind is blowing and the low whine is driving me insane just as the wind nearly did some thirty years earlier during a blizzard, how do I Praise God now? How can I praise God when I am having a bad day physically, because my eyes don’t tell me where I am anymore? There are days I find it hard to find a song of praise.

These present afflictions can go on and on some days zapping our energy, our hope, our focus, our love, our kindness and even our faith. We live in a world of full of erosion and destruction. Every day becomes a battle to grow an inner belief that does not fade.

So taking a look at the moments in my life today. What is true? My first focus of any day is what is the weather. I want to know how to dress. I am so glad that I have a home that keeps me out of the elements all night long and that I have a device to tell me how the weather is for the day. The truth is the air surrounding me is more my focus than the One who gives me the ability to breath that air. Lord, thank You for giving me so much!

What is noble? Looking for the grandeur amongst the clay pots of life is more to be commended that studying the dirt that fills the pot. For me it’s all about the beauty of the plant in the pot. Today, the holiday cactus put a new blooms on. Last year I have five months of continuous blooms on the plant. It amazes me to see the beauty of the trumpeting bloom declaring God’s infinite imagination!

What is just? While many of us wish life could always be fair, much of the time it simply is not. Like what justice is there in my husband’s having a muscular dystrophy that is so obscure and debilitating? What justice is there in giving me a body that could walk miles but lungs that won’t allow it? Physcially speaking living in a fallen world means justice is not to had within our life here. God’s justice is not often known here on earth. It’s eternal justice that we seek, and even that is only done by the everlasting kindness of a merciful God through Jesus.

What is pure? There are days, I am reminded that little Kona has a little white spot on his chest. I think of that spot as his purity mark. Dog’s love with pure abandon. They have no preconceived plans for the day. They have no concept of anything other than what we offer them. God put His mark of love in Kona’s little heart and it shines right through to make a spot on his chest reminding me that God loves us with pure abandon also. Jesus left his home in heaven and came to show us what pure love looks like. It is so bright it sends all the darkness away!

What things are lovely? Praise God for so many lovely thoughts to turn me our of my troubling mindset. The wind can really do a number on me mentally. But only God can take this momentary affliction and help me find things to Praise Him about. It is lovely to have a classic radio station to drown out the wind. It is lovely to have husband that loves me enough to call and see how I’m handling the day. It is lovely to have a puppy lean on my legs and tell me I am not alone.

What good report have I to share with you? I finished the pink / gray scarf with the nordic Freyja heart pattern. I did it thinking about breast cancer awareness. I have two aunts and now a cousin who has survived the dreaded cancer. That is a good report!

Kona testing the rug that is finally finished. He is starting to do the comfy test on every item I crochet.

What virtuous and praise worthy thing can I meditate on today? So thankful for my daughter’s and the virtues that God has instilled in them. From one being a mother that constantly plants good seeds into her children, to the other being a boss that lifts up her employees to do their best, God has granted me two beautiful women to watch on a daily basis be praiseworthy and virtuous .

Phillipians 4 verse eight says, “Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of a good report if there be any virtue or if there be anything praise worthy, think (meditate) on these things.” (ESV). I use to get stuck on the whatever attitude that people had for a time, something like the overuse of the word “like.” Thinking on the good report rather than all the negative bad news in the world is a focus challenge. While my ears feel like they are about to blow up and I am deciding on whether I need more medicine or the doctor, I must decide to think upon the good report. For example, today the tub of onions that I received from my dad’s onion patch got tipped over at some point last spring. We just left it that way, and sure enough the onions prefer growing on the ground than in the tub. I was able to harvest a few for my chicken noodle soup today.

Greenhouse update or good report: The aloe vera plant went crazy this past year loving the atmosphere in the dome. I now have seven plants to give away where there was just two before. I’ll keep two and get rid of the extra.

My crochet story good report: I finished the pink scarf and started another. Even though I lost a whole bag of yarn this last few months. I misplaced while preparing for the grandkids overnight stay when little newborn brother came along. I still have not found the lost bag of yarn. My husband was nice and let me buy more!

Five Little Kittens

Published on by yvonneannetteLeave a comment

Five little guys entered my life last weekend. We received a box full of toes one evening from a friend. Our population of mouse hunters on the farm has dwindled to one. When I found a dead critter in my watering can, I was a bit upset. So it was time to begin again with some new feline busy bodies.

Five little furry kittens all licking mittens were cuddling in a box, One jumped up to catch a string, and the others followed to see this thing, and there were no more kittens in the box!

Naming the little guys might be easier said than done. First of all I can’t use any magicians nor cats from famous books, because my husband can’t even say “Bagheera“ correctly and that is the black panther from “Jungle Book” in case you did not know either. Famous people with the name Black doesn’t work as I don’t like people names for pets. Calling my cat “Clint” just seems weird (Clint Black). The most famous Black scientist that I could think of was George Washington Carver, Percy Julian and that doesn’t match either. On we go, we’ll just be generic and call the black cat, Blackly!

Next most obvious is Stripes. Yep, The pinstriped tiger grey kitty does not look like a tiger to me. Just Stripes! That would do, let’s just be obvious..Then there is Spots. The only one that when looking down on them in the food dish, has spots. Yep, let’s be exact. However, the next two are a little less conspicuous. Boots has legs that look like lace-ups or buckles on them. Socks is black on the back, but all white paws and legs like a sport sock that goes up to the knee.

Boots, Socks, Stripes, Spots, and Blackly

Finding the escape artist is now part of my daily routine until we get the kittens to the vet and are ready to let them be outside. Magic tricks are not my favorite television watching past time. I never see the “trick” and miss the whole point of the act. So considering myself a magic act is kind of funny. But a cat can never resist a string. So that’s the devise that I use to trick them into coming back into the room. I know that they are ready for some more roaming space.

The other morning I had to have reminder that the dog was sleeping next door in the old house to escape the thunderstorm. My hubby felt sorry from him and gave him a rug to sleep on. We really need a garage or back porch inclosed for the old boy. Charlie is nine or ten now and getting more and more scaredy-cat than ever. I think he would benefit from some pheromone treatment for sure.

And of other boxes. We were not able to help my daughter and her family move into their new house as much as we thought we would. Yes we did hlep with the kids and some packing up before hand. But my hubby ended up with a herniated disc from trying to lift the cast iron old wood cook stove. It was in the Old, old house two doors east of us. They ended up using a rope and a tractor and a skid-loader to get it out of the way. Who knew that the thing was so heavy?

Little kids are just about as curious as kittens. They just can’t resist getting into what is not theirs. Or being destructive with toys that they do not understand (age inappropriateness). We found so many little mix-ups with the toy containers. I am still trying to et things put away again. Some things will get hidden for the next visit. Just not dealing with toys out of age range and the busy mess. Uff dah.

One afternoon was spent cleaning the weeds out of the hydrant flower bed. The bug bites were so numerous, I spend the next 24 hours in sick mode. They really do make me feel like I have the flu. The body aches and the fatigue are more than I can handle. But then I just thought about my poor husband’s herniated disc, and let that sympathetic nausea tell me that I was okay. Today is better but now the humidity and the lawn mowing “fresh cut grass” smell is bothering my asthma. So truly if it’s not one thing it’s another.

I lost two beautiful plants in the greenhouse over the last week. Two of them were ivy types. And they had been looking so beautiful. What a bummer. Sometimes I think I should give up on plants. I do the easy ones for the most part and even then, they end up dead just out of the blue.

Threads of Faith

Published on by yvonneannetteLeave a comment

Guest Writer Renae Kampa. Introduction by myselfl- Yvonne Annette. Phillipians 4:6-7 “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.”

Trust God during troubled times is somewhat easier than during seasons of no wind. The last few months after my dad’s hopitalization and subsequent hospice care, some days it really did feel like God was literally carrying us in the palm of His hand. After the gatherings and celebrations, it seems harder to cling to the memories and know that God is just as close as He was then. Faith in the Father of Lights means that even when we are struggling with the dark thoughts of abandonment and feeling forsaken by our physical, earthly father, God will reach down into our dark feelings and remind us that He is still the Lord of all.

My father’s family has a history with the church that is typical worldly. The church is there in the early years, and used at the end of life bit presence during the in between years a bit lacking. Was God there during all the “dash” years? The Alpha and the Omega certainly does care about the middle years doesn’t He?

During the middle years, I spent many years trying to have an “Adult” relationship with my dad. For much of our history I had to hang up the phone or walk away from our visit because he would return to his old ways of behavior or speech. I spent twenty years trying to teach my dad that I was an adult, and he could not used language with me that was essentially trash. I am so thankful that I worked hard at those margins and asked God for patience.

My husband’s family was the example for me in service and gifts of grace and mercy towards others. So when my father-in-law and mother-in-law passed away, one of the third or fourth phone calls that I made was to my dad. I did not hold back the faith filled moments that God graciously gave to us as we parted from our loved ones. It was after one of these calls that my dad offered up his first “I love you” that was not prompted. Of course, it was also during this time that my dad made the decision not to pursue more treatment for his cancer diagnosis.

This past month my family said goodbye to my dad. This is the third parent funeral in just nine months. Typically that’s not what one thinks of for nine months. Yet another descriptive phrase is fullness of time. The full measure of a persons life is not something often thought. Yet again God knows the “handbreadths” of a person’s life. And once again another parent (of my sister-in-law) has now passed on to eternal life.

When we know the end is near, we often cling to that mortal life, clasping hands and wishing for their suffering to end. But the battle for the soul is paramount and must be fought while the spirit, heart, and mind can still accept and choose Life in Jesus. So that’s what we did. We went to visit regularly and during the battle moments, to help our dad choose the peaceful process of letting go into God’s hands.

Photo by my brother Wade. This double rainbow was a beautiful ray of hope for my brother the day after the funeral. (Our family does not believe a rainbow has anything to do with pride but rather the rainbow is God’s promise to care for His creation.)

The following is a written testimony that my elder sister shared at the memorial service for my dad. I have changed nothing. So this week my guest writer is my sister Renae.

Threads of Faith – Love in Action

Threads of faith – God in His loving mercy created us to love and serve him.  We are called to love, to be love and to show love to others.  A thread, small and insignificant in its own way may seem useless, however, when that thread is applied skillfully together it becomes a master piece – a cloth useable for many things.  Such is faith.  It too, starts out simple, small and may seem so insignificant at times, yet, God in His wisdom created us to trust, to believe, to cry out when we hurt and seek His help.  He lovingly takes these threads, the times of our lives and creates his tapestry of love in our hearts because of His great love for mankind.

God created us to return His love, he willed His only begotten Son to share in the trials, temptations and cruelty of all life offers.  Why, because the Son Jesus Christ so loved us, he wanted to share our burdens; He shed drops of blood during the Agony in the Garden before his death on the cross where he willingly died for our sins and offered His salvation to the world.  He died that we might live eternally with Him in the beautiful Garden of Heaven.

Threads of faith – We learned that cancer had returned in our father’s body and began to pray for his eternal soul.  Yvonne so eloquently said that: “Dad is a soul beloved by God” that we needed to witness love, faith, forgiveness, patience, and salvation to him.  I began to pray that there would be a thread of faith in his heart.  A thread planted into his soul many years before that he could now hold onto and that God would use to bring him to a place of accepting God’s gift of the Savior and His salvation, forgiveness, and love. Threads alone are fragile but when woven by an almighty God they become strong.

I prayed that these threads would be used by God to comfort him in his suffering and be the strength to guide his soul to Christ.  I prayed that each time someone would be present to witness love, faith, and prayer that he could adhere to its truths daily and find what comfort he needed in this trying time.

As he lay in his bed, Yvonne, Gavin and Valerie as well as others, would tell him stories of Jesus, read scripture, play music, and pray which are all threads of faith in their own way, threads that Jesus could use to lead his heart daily.  What we witnessed is a testimony to this prayer.  There was peace, calm and even acceptance during the last month knowing that his life on earth was nearing an “I love You’s” said and then repeated to each family member was God’s way of telling everyone he found peace with his Creator.  He knew love, God’s love and those threads of faith began to weave the beautiful cloth of love given and received.

God’s Mercy knows no boundaries.  Those threads – the things once heard are used by a loving Savior.  The wisdom and guidance of the Holy Spirit convicts and comforts us to accept God’s ways.  God’s Mercy reaches the depths of the soul that seems unreachable.  The beauty is witnessed seeing lives that are touched and changed.  Miracles happen right before our eyes, prayers are answered.  Jesus is Lord and Savior.  God is Holy.

We children felt the love of our father when we needed it most and he felt the love of his children and an Almighty God in every breath he took those last days.  

The final thread was woven out of faith and love; we give our father over to the creator of all the threads in our lives and let His love heal our hearts.

From the Diary of St. Faustina of Poland:

“Let every soul trust in the Passion of the Lord, and place its hope in His mercy. God will not deny His mercy to anyone. Heaven and earth may change, but God’s mercy will never be exhausted..” —Diary # 72

Psalm 100:5 “For the Lord is good, his steadfast love endures forever, his faithfulness to all generations.”

Thanks again, to my sister for being the guest writer this week. I hope this small story from our family’s love in action will bess someone today.

Lamentations

Published on by yvonneannetteLeave a comment

Living with limits comes with its laments and difficulties. Turning from our laments to praise is an accomplishment that is only achieved with the help of the God who gives in the midst of deep struggle.

Thinking about book of laments; lamentation when my brother called things for my dad too a new rugged path. I had not gotten as far as the praise chapters. And for the moment I felt stuck in the bad news. How do we dig out of an emotional hole?

That very evening we went out to spend some time with my dad while he could still visit and respond to our words of love. While it was a very difficult week, we know there is more to come. Yet the blessings and healing graces could not have been more evident. If only others knew just how deep the wounds were truly cleansed as we chose to love on our dad in these last days.

We set up the brick base to put the wishing well in a more permanent location.

Today sitting my dad, we had the patience talk. He began crying as he said it is so hard to be patient. I told him, “There is only one giver of patience. God gives us everything that ever we have. Our lives, our children, our hope, our wisdom, our patience. We have to trust God for everything. We wait on Him.” “Yes.” He replied. It was hard to see him cry as he realized he was not getting any better. Going home was no longer his thought process. The only “going” we would do the next few days would be in our imagination.

Then just the next day, my dad faced reality and spoke factually to my dear spouse. My husband received the harsh reality from my dad’s own mouth that things are not getting better. “I’m in tough shape. I guess I’ll have to go to the nursing home.” His son-in-law responded with yes, most likely (even though in his blind state, he was already there).

Another week has since passed. It was so hard to leave my dad and know that the wake windows will slowly be closing in on any opportunities to conversation. Any thang that was left unsaid is still going to have to sit out in NeverLand.

Having lots of conversations with siblings and we who will be left behind as day after day goes by. Letting go and letting parents age is not any easier than letting children grow up. Except that this parent season in life seems so final. The cyle of life is difficult in some seasons.

And so I began composing the story or poem “I’m walking you home” as we spend time with my father in these last days.

Lamentations 3:22=23 “Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, because His compassion does not fail. They are new every morning; Great is You faithfulness”

Smoothing Out Wrinkles

Published on by yvonneannetteLeave a comment

The evening after a day with the grand kids often has me ready to go straight home and find the bath tub for a good soak. There is a very good reason why one’s ability to bear children happens during youth. The energy drains much faster when the cup is only half full even at the beginning of the day. So my thought process about going to see the falls was rather surprising.

We live in a climate that often gives us four seasons in less than a weeks time. And averaging the moth into tempreature zones I often wonder what season it will be this week. Dressing for winter at 8 a.m., spring at noon, and summer at three in the afternoon is rather hard to accomplish if I am not going to be home. So I was rather glad that the weather stayed a bit cooler for the whole day. And we decided to go walk the falls and smell the acrid spray of water mist.

First daffodil bloom of the year. The day we cleaned all the huge cottonwood leaves off this flower bed the greeneay shot up three or four inches. Of course that night it was 32 degrees again.

Day after day the spring has wrapped up a dry fabric across the landscape. The grass at home seems nonexistent. Patches of dirt are just spreading out like burnt pieces of toast all across the acreage. the crunch beneath my feet makes me think I should not even be walking there. It was nice to walk on a sidewalk flanked by actual lawn the evenibg that we walked at the falls park.

Kona had his scheduled spa day at the doggie daycare. I thought sure he would be tired, but instead he seemed so wound up when we arrived home. Like we got someone else’s dog. Maybe he just gets the zoomees after daycare because he had to be in the crate napping so often. His energy level has been pretty consistent and I still love that he sleeps so well all night long.

Kona sporting his new haircut. Not really new just fresh, as he gets the same puppy cut every time.

The water falls were mild for this time of year. I think even the up river snow fall has been way below average. I was trying to remember the last time we got rain that was more than a spit. Last Jjune or July we may have received an half inch at one spirt.

A whole week later: And now it is the day after once again. I feel like my ability to focus on thought and writing has gone with the wind. The dust clouds scared the rain away once again. I spent the day with the kiddos yesterday. It’s been a whole week since my entry beginnings..

I tried picking up a book about Mycroft Holmes the brother of Sherlock Holmes. After finishing the “Complete Collection” I really should try a different route of thought. The book that I chose was so scatter brained. For lack of concentration I did fall asleep. So for that purpose, it worked. But it’s daytime that lacks for entertainment. And I really should not watch videos of the grand kids for hours on end.

This morning I got to thinking about my dearly departed mom-in-law again. Doing laundry, I was reminded about her love for ironing. Was she truly one of those “smooth out the wrinkles” kind of person? How often in our lives were we part of her attempt to make smooth the rough patches?

There are three small travel irons now taking up space in my house. Who uses such a thing? They are a testament to how many trips they took. Of course the were benevolence trips. Because of their proximity to sibling relationship, that’s how they went. Though some trips were taken on their own funds, many of the cruises and such were group outings. I think of the other siblings and how they must have felt about this trio of travelers. Is there jealousy wat fueled some of the wrinkles in the relationships?

Unfortunately, I can also think of ways in which there were road blocks put up. But because we are all in a trying to get along phase in life, perhaps it’s best to leave the road construction season to the history books and not turn back the pages that cause strife.

Blanket on the left is the Freyja pattern from a pattern designer that I follow. The yarn on the right is for the Wild Things / thin flowers continuous blanket throw for a high school senior. Both are mosaic crochet patterns

My yarn came for a commission project. First the Freyja blanket needs to be finished. I really do like it just not fancy about these colors, so it will likely be another give away!

And one last night on the mishaps of the blind, not lame, and not dumb. Last night my allergies reached their spring maximum. My sinus migraines are requiring every medicine that I can possible take for this pollenating tree season. So while I love spring and it’s blooming nature, I am quite miserable and hope that this writing and my crochet work does not reflect this wrinkled up dress shirt moment in my life!

Morning Glory

Published on by yvonneannetteLeave a comment

Crochet is so addictive. I found a new pattern last month and asked my hubby to buy it for me. We put it in my E-book on my phone so that I can easily access it. The pattern done by Crazy Cat Lady is a mosaic crochet variable with several different options. The first one I tried of course turned out much bigger than I expected.

Snow finally arrived with a howling wind winter storm and the days that I did the most work on the project, the radio, the tv and an audio book kept me sane. I still have trouble with whistling wind storms and anything over 20 mph can just about drive me insane.

The project is finished and does look okay. There are things that I would have changed had I known how big it would be. Nevertheless it is pretty.

Books keep me going. I don’t know how anyone can function without books. So many people spend their time watching tv, or playing video games I wonder at the lack of productivity. Yes, I can see evenings spend in relaxation, I do that some also. But most of the time my fingers simply can’t sit still. I am such a fidget artist.

Morning glory is a weed around these parts. No one in their right mind would plant the ground cover here. It simply takes over everything in the garden. But our worst problem is bind weed. It has no flower, and wraps itself around upright growth like a boa constricted. It’s power to choke out the pretty plants is so frustrating. Why I think of morning glory with this pattern is beyond me. Perhaps it will all make sense someday.

“Oh that will be glory for me” is a hymn line chorus that has also been taking over my awake moments in the night hours. There is a verse about having a “night song” that I often think of when I am struggling to stay asleep. Though I think I finally found the right supplement to help me.

Magnesium comes in several types. Citrate and glycerinate are the two ai am now familiar with. Calcium with magnesium citrate is best for bone health. I have been taking this for several years to aid my post menopause body and avoid osteoporosis which runs in the family. Also, it helps keeps my mood on an even tide! Recently I was introduced to magnesium glycerinate to help as a sleep aid. What a world of difference it is to have full night sleep in my life again.

Next up on the crochet list is more yarn. I have used up my stash and taken out two unhappy old projects in the midst. I need to find some crochet three smaller than standard 4 ply that will not split and make me frustrated while doing mosaic patterns. I do enjoy most baby yarn so perhaps that is the preferred option over sport weight. though I think I will try a smaller hook size on the next project first.

Learning how to do the year or a signature in the project is my next challenge. And doing the year came first. I could have moved it up a row or two to be more symmetrical in the pattern but next time will be better right? My hubby always teases that one might need a “get better soon” card when attempting some projects. Not a card because there is illness involved, but a hope that one will do a better job next time!

I managed to get the year into this project. It turned out okay.

Quick updates are not easily completed with so many interruptions. And how can I be the source of so many of my own lack of focus. Since the snow storm, the the snowmen collection has been packed up. I actually got so dizzy trying to pack up them. So I asked my hubby to finish. My eyesight simply would not let me move from the surface of the display to wrapping them up. This was just not enjoyable at all.

Back to the books that have kept me sane. I had a couple of silly romances. But now I am going through the book by Dr. Jeffrey Rediger called “Cured.” This book will probably lead me to other books. Or not. I got the book finished and found it somewhat lacking. It basically convinced me that everyone has is individual and special and can only follow their own conscience and listen to their own body. Everyone has their own journey. Each dash is special.

Meanwhile I am back to my pattern study and doing a couple of back pack bags. I also finished this project. And then found another pattern to do. The month of March ended with a commission project for a high school senior. That should be fun once I ever get startedQ

One of Those Days

Published on by yvonneannetteLeave a comment

SUNDAY: Well, today is one of “those” days. I slept less than three hours last night. So now I am overtired and cranky. Decision making is very minimal. Lack of sleep really affects my eyesight. So this morning when we were preparing to leave the house for church, I found the bedroom door closed with my nose. Really?

Really?

We are trying to leave the little dog home more often with freedom of space and choice. And while he has grown up finally, it has only been about one month since the last full bladder accident. So rather than letting him have the whole house, shut the doors right?

And then, I decided that I needed a scarf to stay warm. My outfit was not complete. So I headed back to the bed room for the matching item. When I found the door with my nose, my initial responsive word was “dang-it-Really!”

MONDAY: Reality going blind sucks. Just over a week ago my grand-doggie found my eyebrow with the top of his head. He is one of those bouncy dogs that does not greet on a sit. His excitement puts a spring in his bottom and jack-in-the-box will spring at the most inopportune times for a blind lady. Going down to greet my little 15 pound Shih Tzu found the forty pound head with mine.

Really!

There are some adaptive learning curves that simply don’t work in practice. Being a very active and boisterous little girl, I have grown into a statuesque old lady. I really don’t enjoy the bodies requirement to be still just to save my other parts. My eyes simply do not work right anymore.

How do I manage to keep up with the change of pace? I know that lack of physical activity is what is driving my inability to sleep at night. Who wants to teach a bland lady how to work out and get tired enough to sleep?

Maybe I should put on a helmet and take up boxing.? That seems like a dumb idea when there are so many things jump out of nowehere to clobber me already.

Maybe I should take up running on a treadmill mill just to keep moving but who is gonna read all the options on the screen? Where is the speaking options on that equipment?

Maybe I could do palettes or something? but it requires being able to see and know what the directions are for each move and no one ever explains things well enough. Besides my mirrow image response is zilch because I do not see the actions to copy.

Okay. Really…

TUESDAY: Yesterday we both had bad visits at the dentist. Very rough hygienists that should probably have flunked his schooling. Anyways, decisin made to find a new dental clinic. And good news I slept for the first night with no sleep aid meds at all.

Today is a rough day. Another week will go by with no glasses on this nose because it hurts too much. My sinuses are already angry over the knock on the door. Scripture says, “Ask and it will be answered, Knock and it will be opened, Seek and you will find.” Well, I just think I’ve learned one should use the appropriate tools when asking, knocking or seeking. And sometimes we simply aren’t asking the right questions.

WEDNESDAY: Another night slept with no sleep aids. Unfortunately, my poor sister is taking up my lot in life. She is going through much stress in life in preparation to early retirement. Yep, going blind sucks. The rest of the family is doing well, I think. Haven’t talked to very many of them lately. It’s still a good day to take the back seat for a full rest as tomorrow is grandkid sitting day.

One of the Freyja patterns by Tinna T. Iceland mosaic crochet artist. I have learned alot about the craft from her.Thanks. Tinna!

THURSDAY: No mishaps. Just a quick story about hte kiddos. I sat with the littlest one while the others were at home school co-op day. It seems this social experience is a highlight for three of the momentary mommas. My sister, sister-in-law and my daughter all living this lifestyle of parenting 24-7. We do enjoy hearing about the learning curves in their lives. In other bits and pieces, I took the older two grandees with my short Kona walk in the afternoon. The oldest had to bring her binoculars to “look at nature.” The second child was wearing boots, shorts, a winter jacket and gloves. Hilarious picture!

Epilogue: Friday is here. I made it through the week with no more mishaps. Yet…. Doing more book study lists. Also finished the scarf above that I don’t like. I made a mistake on the first rom of the pattern beginning with the upside down heart. Oh, well. It was intended as a practice run. Today is supposed to be a greenhouse working day. I have not had coffee for three days, and this morning all it seems to do is make me sneeze. I did this to try sleeping well. It may have worked but I am still not sure. I have been doing some breathing exercises as I try to fall asleep and that has helped. Kona really needs his groom session. And what other random facts could I tell you? Still working on “The Complete Sherlock Holmes” stores. I thought of it after I learned Great-great-Grandma Chris and her name was Anna “AndersDitter” Holmes. Those Scandinavians surnames are odd. Our family history lessons are fun as we hunt for obituaries and places of residence. The “Bygones” of the past still have stories to tell!