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”
Five and seven are consecutive odd numbers. And while that may be the age of that person in the mirror, I refuse. There are some parts older and some parts younger. For instance, my lungs are older, along with my eyes, my ability to do sports. The youthfulness of my imagination and my “wannabe“ never match.
That day, it was the asthma that ruins my ambition.
Adn here it is three days later. We received 7/10 of rain yesterday. That made for a soggy day. Not enough to leave any puddles. It was a perfect cloudy day to doing some transplanting the day before. All of the little Blanket Flower plants look happy after having a day of rest from the sun while they got used to a bigger pot.
So it means the weekend is here and much should happen but ambition will be the deciding factor. I gound some pretty blooms to photgraph today. My favorite is from the pear tree.
In this day of artificial intelligence is there anything real anymore? I use to enjoy watching vids on my iPad to entertain myself while in a state of boredom. But after checking out the validity of a particular story that seemed real, I learned there just isn’t much on the vid false line that can be trusted. So if I give up this pass-time or time out eccentricity, what will become of my time. What is there “to do?”
So much of our time is spent moving things from spot A to spot B. Yet it is the lot in our lives just simply to decide whether something we touch is to keep, to give away or to throw in the trash. Thus goes the days of our lives and it is nothing like the old Soap Opera of daytime television.
While sitting down at my grand daughter’s birthday party I was visited by reality. I asked the children if I could sit with them because I was only “five and seven.” She piped right up with “that’s fifty seven Oma!” And I let her be right and look smart infrom of all her cousins of which she is the oldest.
So while time marches on to next years birthdays, we will continue to count the days and allow God to number our years.
“If ya haven’t got something nice to say… don’t say nothing at all. “. Our pastor had such a nice idea for Mother’s Day, hand out some compliments. Every mother really just wants her children to get along, to not fight, and perhaps learn how to hand out a compliment while they use their manners at the table. Unfortunately some of the little slips of paper that hte children were to pass out, inadvertently had nothing on them. Therefore many of the lessons that we aim to teach whether as parents, as pastors during children’s sermons, or as employees often get bumbled up. So the age old lessons, if you haven’t got anything nice to say…don’t say anything at all.
I was blessed to sit in the back seat with my mom on the way back to her assisted living quarters. My husband says he is happy to chauffeur and it really does work better for us to sit together in the back of the “limosine” where we can hear each other better. Two hours interviewing my mother made the trip go so quickly. And now it I can just remember all of those answers to those many questions.
Old memories are thus made new, while we talk about her childhood and remember things from throughout the eight decades that she has lived. So many things seem completely out of touch to our daily lives today. Like the wire used to hold the chicken after the head is chopped off. And the fact that it was down by the outhouse next to the twin cottonwood trees. Gavin’s grandpa had rigged up some fancy tool to do the job. Just how many chickens did the family go through every summer. No one took a daily trip to the Cosco broasted chicken ovens back them.
Then just a day or so later, I was to help with the grand kids for the day, and was so tired, I actually fell asleep on the floor at their house. This going one day and home the next day finally caught up with me poorly and few days later. My “Asthma Awareness Month” of May has given me a few days this month in which I fought the asthma struggle very poorly. I pushed and pushed to do some things the one day and finally gave up after blacking out while trying to pull some weeds.
Watching a Zig zag is quite difficult if on eis blind. Pretty sure if I was in the “real” job description, I would be fired. But how does one communicate with a toddler that will not say what she needs? If the child is taught to listen to her body, she will not be able to tell it’s needs. Bother for the grand parenting when the Zig zags and does to tell there is a bend in the curve!
So that is the small child… what about the elderly? I spend two hours Sunday interviewing a great. Now how do I remember all of those things. While asking my mother, I remembered all of my mom-in-law’s answers. Oh, dear. How am I to remember which direction the Zig zagged? I mean now really. I did not take my tablet with and nother is written down. It’s time to get out the files. And I need to spend the next two cool hours outside planting such and such. Or my Zig won’t get enough sunshine to zag!
With all of the car time I logged a larksfoot prayer shawl.It was a trial and error crochet project and I took out the first attempt. Pretty happy with the end result.
And so while Mother’s Day was sad as we missed my husband’s mom for the first year, it was enjoyable a bit spending time with my mom. But the zig zag of paying attention to which parent next continues on. My dad had a mishap and now a broken femar has him in the hospital in need for full time nursing care. Sometimes it feels like during the parent season of life one nearly gets whiplash wondering which way the attention will be drawn next.
Shared my favorite Bible verse Hebrews 12:3 with my dad and talked about Jesus suffering. It was a good visit the day that we went to see him. Also talks about cousins and the boxing gloves. Story I had never heard before. Some things he did not want to talk about. (Music for example)
The wind tipped over the wishing well twice in just two days. It made me sad to see our wishes not being met. Haha. We did get it set up later.
Such enjoyment taken during the road trips of talk time with my daughter also. I feel so frustrated that my ride to and from the city to spend the day with grandkids, I am so tired. It is hard to give our best when we are exhausted. While the road bends and turns through this journey we call life, I’ll do my best to watch the Zig zag!
Isaiah 43:1. “Fear not, for I have redeemed you, I have called you by your name, you are mine.” This morning I woke up out of a deep hard sleep to the sound of my name. “Yvonne!” I tried to see if anyone was in the room as a fluttred open my eyes in the dark. When my eyes finally opened up, I checked my phone for the time. Seven something. early yet, but it was not my spouse who had said my name. He was already off to work. Then what? Or rather who?
Kona resting on my lap for my morning quiet time , on top of the prayer shawl from hospice that my mother in law received.
The other day for some reason, I decided to look at the notes that I took nearly 25 years ago. My thoughts have been turning to what exactly am I here for and looking at the exact purpose of my life. Of course, after having raised my children and now welcoming grand children, I still wonder that often. Is there something more that I ought to be or to do?
Through the years I have often considered that God made us human BE-ings not human do-ings, yet in our being we are to do what Jesus teaches. How does this all work? And especially as we come to the end of one life purpose like parenting or job or such, how to we transition to the time in our life where we spend more time BEING than DOING?
LISTEN: The first note card that I read has Isaiah 19:12 on it. “And after the earhquake a fire and after the fire a still small voice of God”. This story of Isaiah listening for the voice of God and finding Him not loud and large, but still and quiet. Yes, it seems the nights that I spend in sleeplessness are often filled with my audio Bible in constant play. The catalyst of suffering is often the greatest inspiration to music and other famous people. Zolton Kodaly is someone that I admired long before my daughter played one of his cello works at her senior recital. I would often just sit and let the tears flow down my cheeks while hearing the piece. While not sleeping at night might be considered a suffering, not having the Word of God to listen to would make it a worse “nightmare.” I am so thankful that I can still LISTEN during the still quiet hours of night.
CALLING: God’s calling to me and to others is to seek His face. Jeremiah 29:13 “And when you seek Me with your whole heart then you will find me.” Twenty years ago when I was writing a new piece of music I thought God was saying “this is your calling.” Like some people are called to ministry, or called to be a nurse, or doctor or the military. Yet rather for me God called me to mother my children and care for my spouse: that was my calling. Yes, I wrote some music. But much like the multiple miscarriages physically that I experienced, the music seems to be like stillborns. Not meant for anyone else to know. And now… being asked to pray for what ever the need of my children and my grand children. This I find is my calling now. And then the random home phone rings. Literally, the phone rang three times just now. Hmmm…
The completed “hearts” of the Freyja blanket. Set aside for its giving day.
NEW HEART: The sound of sonic boom that comes from my chest. I have heard this recently. One night just a week or so ago. It is almost like a thunder boom from my heart. Or like a lightening bolt through my soul. It is hard to explain. I used to be scared and sit bolt upright when this happened. Now I just lay there and say “What is it? Lord?”Deuteronomy 30:6 “ And the Lord your god will circomcise your heart and the heart of your descendants, to love the Lord your God will all your heart and with all your soul, that you may live.” That is the focus of all prayer for my people! The hearts of my descendants seemed so far into the future when I recieved this verse. Now these little people have names.
GOD WITH US: How does this Emmanuel thing work? Joshua 1:9 says to be sotrong and courageous. Were we strong in all of our moves, Minnesota for four years, Iowa for four years and now South Dakota in a modular home for 24 years. “Have not I commanded you? Be strong and of good courage: do not be afraid, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” I use to do a spiritual exercise with my family asking them where the Shephrd was leading them right now. From Psalm 23, where do you feel that you are? Are you among the rocks looking for tufts of grass? Are you resting by the still water? For us, the last six or seven months I know just where we have been. Already been through valley of the shadow of death, and God has been with us.
The little clay pitcher now used to store my ever difficult to find scissors and hook of the most recent project I am working on. “Thin Flowers” / wild things in medium tone pink and gray- very hard on my eyes. Uff dah.
EARTHEN VESSELS: The next verse from Jeremiah talks about broken bottles, or fractured jars. I need to study more about what this means but the Jeremiah 48:11-12 is the passage. Settling here in this place, the place where my husband’s dad grew up and thinking aoubt the “pouring from vessel to vessel” that we are now going through as we take care of the possessions of those before us. And the thoughts about the house and it’s cracks and things that need fixed. Moving all these things out of the way making room for the next generation of living. Also the idea of pouring our spiritual understanding into others. And my daughter just now sharing her calm and focus in the midst of little accidents with children. This broken bottles message is both physical and spiritual. Physically, we can be a repaired vessel that helps others handle the things of earth. And spiritually, we let God’s healing work in us to hlep others. “With what comfort you are comforted, therefore comfort others.”
AWAKENING: Sounding the alarm often makes us think of fire alarms or morning wake up calls. Amos 4:7-8. Thoughts through my head years earlier: “you seek rain for the land but where are your prayers for hearts softened with the tears for God. Pray for living water Do you ask for soft and cultivated hearts Pliable and moistened hearts full of compassion for the hurts of-those around you? Or is yourheart dry like the grass and hard like the ground?When God sends struggles like fire, will it burn?” This wake up call is for spiritually alive people to see that souls are more valuable than physical healings. Our focus should be on salvation of souls, not just keeping people alive here and now, but for eternity!
2 Chronicles 7:14 has been echoing through my heart for nearly a whole week now. I even learned the classical piano version of “If My People will Pray”. We have had almost an inch of rain since my prayers have focused on this verse. And I feel God is leading me to even more focus in my prayers as I dig up these old study notes from the Iowa years.
The last sound that I remember hearing was the TRUMPET. And there is so much that I see and hear about the second coming of Christ. The song that carried me through the month of February was “Come, Jesus Come.” Our Sunday sermon series on the Lord’s Prayer led me to focus on the phrase “Thy Kingdom Come.” All the implications of just those three words could take up a whole new blog writing. We must act each day as if Christ might come today, and yet we plan our lives in such a way that our descendants to Glory with us!
And so I return to the moment. The best example of “calling by name, you are mine” I an think of is the training of a dog to come at their name. Calling a dog to come on direct command is kind of fun actually. when we had Seymour and I trained him to his name. The recognition of name, eye contact and reward was so cool. And then when we had Casey and he whipped his head every time the commercial came on for Casey’s store. I said his name and he ran to me so quickly. Now if I could just respond like Mary did in the garden after the resurrection, “Rabboni, Master, Savior, Jesus!”
Foreground stands the tree out of the old cherry tree root that was Great Grandpa’s tree. Then the flowering crab, followed by the autumn blaze Maple that was a birthday gift to me from mom and dad. The Old Mulberry tree that no longer produces stands just north of The Old Cottonwood Tree that is over 120 years old. There is some history in these roots for sure.
Free from the troubles and turmoil of this life, we watched the peaceful home going of our dear mom. Tranquil, sweet surrender was her state of patient endurance. Peace of mind soul and body became her full joy as we entered sorrow and grief. Yes, it was our Lord’s will that she should join her love of 65 years in eternal bliss.
How do you come to grips with the pit in your stomach and your heart in your throat? Every little thing brings tears to the surface. There is no peace on earth, you think. Then comes to mind another favorite saying of your loved one lost. And again, you think, she is not lost, we know where she is! Peace in this troubled time comes from all the generous love felt through all the times shared together. The memories are now our dearest treasures.
“These things I have told you, that in Me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble but take heart for I have overcome the world.” These words of Christ from John 16:33 have been echoing through the halls of my mind for nearly two weeks now. Trouble and suffering is not a new thing here in life. What can be new in our lives, however, is the peace that we have Jesus knowing this world is not our final dwelling place. Knowing Jesus gives us so much hope and peace it is the power that overcomes the troubled times that we face.
Sitting with is hard to do. Just being present in the here and now. My little doggie is my best lesson on with. His little fifteen pound presence is with me all day long. He rarely wants to me anywhere else. How do I translate his satisfaction in with and complete dependence on me to the spiritual lesson “Depend On God?” At difficult times in life, sitting still becomes our oft hard challenge.
Resting and sleeping much, the body goes through such a physical change using all of it’s last resources in the final days of living. Watching this process is not easy. Some find it very troublesome to spend much time with the dying. Yet, we whose loved one belongs, find it hard to tear ourselves away. Living with no regrets is the mindset of each day’s decisions. We will miss mom so much. But we do not desire her to suffer any longer. She has waited long enough to go be with dad once again.
I could develop an ulcer just sitting here. The stress of not moving and watching the help have to move our dear one from one position to another. Walking has always been such a therapy for me. I do hope this weather turns around to warmer days, so that these legs can get some real stretching in. Memories of all the walks that we took together come flooding through all jumbled up and tumbling over one another.
Walking at Tulip festival with the two little girls of mine in the wagon. Walking through the crowd at some large church anniversary doings and mom introducing me to so many people that she knows. Walking behind the family at different passed memorial services. Walking into the drug store up town and watching her greet every person in the store. Walking through the mall as we shopped for clothes for the girls before music camp. Walking up the sidewalk at camp for the annual church group outing. Walking through the cemetery to the north of us and hearing all the stores of those gone before.
The last words that a loved one utters to us are so poignant. For my dad-in-law, it was “I’m not worried about tomorrow.” For my mom-in-law, it was her sleep talking that pulled forth her deep spirit of giving and her ever present inner positive self. She had a cookie to eat that was just too crunchy for the moment, and so the conversation turned to soft cooke favorites. Like molasses cookies I suggested. She said, “The ones with “pie spice in the recipe.” Yes, I said, I think you gave that recipe to my daughter. “I will make you some tomorrow.” She stated and then fell asleep. Always giving, always generous, always thinking about others was her generous spirit.
And then there was the sleep talking words…. The phrase “It turned out to be a pretty nice day” seems so totally unfitting for one to utter on the day she takes her last car ride. Yet that was such a common phrase of mom’s weather permitting there would be some sunshine, she would always say that even if it was a particularly bad day. If the sun would shine for just a little while, it had turned out to be a pretty nice day. The day of the memorial service the weather finally relented of its below zero chill and that was the phrase that came to my mind as I got into the pickup after the earth planting service. The thought also went through my mind of all the trees they had given to us and all the roots that they had given us.
Indeed parents and family, genealogy and heritage are truly the roots that make giant trees. And in our lives mom and dad are the ones who have given us roots so deep that even the their eternal home going cannot uproot the spiritual lessons that make us stand strong together.
Psalm 1: 3, “He shall be like a tree Planted by the rivers of water, That brings forth its fruit in its season, Whose leaf also shall not wither, And whatever he does shall prosper.” Blessed are the children whose parents give them deep and lasting roots that feed their heart, soul and mind even after they have gone, the fruits of their parents labor of love shall be evident even into the next generation. Thanks mom and dad for teaching us the truth that only Living Water is found in Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior.
It is truly the coldest day of the year. Today the wind chill has the feel like at nearly -30 degrees Fahrenheit. That is what we call bone chilling for sure. Yesterday was also National Cover all exposed skin day. So I spent the day doing some video exploring of abandoned homes.
My first thought process was about finding homes that looked built in the early 1900’s so I could do some imagining of our next door house. Then it soon got a little extravagant and finding mega-mansions of the debt-fully deceased. Bank ceased homes can be tied up in so much back logue that they often sit untouched for decades.
The Bible verse that came to mind was Matthew 6:19-21 and ends with “where your treasure is there your heart will be also.” The verse came to mind when I say a double painting of two brides. One was the mother and the other the daughter in the same dress. And later upstairs in a cedar chest was the very same dress. Value in things is all subjective. Each person has their own set of dreams and circumstances that lead them to place high value in some earthly thing. I think that the reason that it hit me so hard is my own wedding dress story.
My grandmother had several such saved event garments. One was her own. One was her mother-in-law’s dress. And yet another was her own mother’s muslin dress. For some reason the hand sewn muslim dress of my maternal great grandmother was the dress that appealed to me most. So I asked if I could wear it.
The prairie blanket flower is a biennial bloomer that sends it’s seeds forth in a blanket through the winds. It will blanket the prairie in a short span of years with it’s blooms from early spring through late fall. I ‘m so excited for it’s hopeful little green plant shoots!
I did. I wore it on my wedding day. Complete with under garments purchased just for the occasion to save any oils from getting on the fabric. Then like an idiot, I actually packaged the gown back up and sent it back to my aunt. Why? I should have risked years of anger and resentment and kept the dress.
Now, in my hope chest lies the lace gown of my grandmother’s mom-in-law. It would need a fully prepared undergarment / slip to even be worn. Such under garment became a daily use wear item and does not exist of remain. So I have a dress that I did not wear in my hope chest and what ever should I do with all that hand made lace?
It is not my treasure, but someone else’s.
How is this all a part of God’s story in my life? How do I make sense of the ridiculous twist of “fate?” My sister took the hope chest that all of these items were once in. And now I had to clean out my cedar chest to make room for the family lace.
My birth story is the cause of my mother’s salvation story. The details are not to difficult to understand as I was in the womb “placenta Previa.” This means that the umbilical cord was attached above the placenta and that it would exit the womb first. After birth is suppose to come after the birth. When the doctors rushed my mother off to cesarean birth surgery they had no promises that either my mother or her baby would live. Well, obviously we lived.
My mother had her own Near Death Experience that day and knew that she was headed to hell. She knew that her life did not measure up to God’s kingdom. Later, she would learn that accepting Jesus as Savior for her sins and repentance was all she needed. Her whole life course had been rechartered with this premature baby’s birth.
And so the afghan blanket continues to be draped across my lap this cold month. It began as a leftover yarn project and we bought some full color skeins so that I could do a blanket during this cold weather season.
Life over the next few years would not be easy. She continued to have major life health complications from the blood transfusions, an appendicitis bout, and fainting spells. It took nearly six years for her to recover health, and thus become pregnant once again.
And it would be another seven years for me to comprehend all that god had done in sparing my mother’s life and giving me the ultimate choice in life as well. Would I also learn that God has a special plan for my life and His purpose for me?
What is my story of meeting Jesus? I began to comprehend the choice for sin or God’s way as a new teenager. Receiving a baseball bat, glove, and ball at the age of 13 from my dad and brother seemed to seal my disdain for the chauvinism of that sex. As a female, and trying so hard to copy my sisters, receiving such a gift actually also sealed my disdain for the sport. I have always “heckled” baseball players, the sport and any other related things to baseball. (It does no help that when my family was in the twin cities to go to the ball game, I was sick with pneumonia and did not attend. That also turned me against the sport.) And needless to say it helped to solidify the “left out” feelings of the third child, middle child character flaws / traits.
How do such small things stick so soundly in the mind as catapults to which fork in the road one takes in life? The path that i followed was piano and music. Even though it was not the full pursuit of my life, it is still a much loved fulfillment of who God has shaped me to be.
Recently my mother in her stroke mind lost her hat after our visit to her apartment. The lost item was under a couple of other items. She did find it later, but the story of the Good Shepard seeking his lost sheep came to her mind after finding it. She knew that God cares more about the lost souls at the care center were of much more importance than her lost hat, and yet she also knew that God cared deeply about both. So she took the time to tell the care giver about her her lost soul and near death experience some fifty years ago.
The little silver quid plant continues to multiply. I really out to give more of these away. Or set up a tray for multiplications for the spring green house sales. My list of propagations is getting longer!
Emmanuel God with us can be hard to see sometimes. Knowing that God was there in the spring of my life and seeing His handiwork during the midst of difficult years is truly a faith phenomenon. I wrote a song once called “Seasons” and it proclaims the omnipresence of God through the times in one’s life. I wrote it about my grandmother, but it applies to each person to who the Spirit breaths into the breath of life.
Throughout my life “being heard” has been a consistent theme of the Father’s touch in my life also. That might be for a whole other writing. Sometimes however I simply attribute my short status to the fact that while we were at the family meal time I was so busy talking and entertaining that I did not get as much to eat as everyone else. Getting some sort of attention even if it be through laughter and story telling was very important to me. Today, maybe I am still trying to do that very thing.
Yet I try hard to realize that whether earthly beings reckon to m presence is less important than if the souls that I encounter in life hear God speaking in their life. What story is God working through you? Are you aware that a Sovereign One is ruling over all the circumstances of your life?
What story is being told in your life and through your family happenings? Is God trying to get your attention? Or are you trying to gain His attention? History begins with His Story. And this is just a little corner of the painting of my life.
The second Friday of the year finds my eyesight rather clouded. I know that I went to bed in a distressed state last night. I know that I did not sleep very well. I know that I spend all my energies up yesterday with the grandkids. I know that it’s been rather cold outside and two days in a row I felt so cold for hours that my bones hurt. It does not help knowing. It feels like there is sinus slime over my vision and the veil of film that cannot be seen restricts my vision.
Today is the second Friday of the year. I am finally trying to get back to my regular journaling. With the new year resolving to remember by writing is always part of my thoughts. How can I do better this year?
This second Friday of the year is like a new second chance. Yet doing better at say dishes, or laundry, or house cleaning, or even meal prep is still not high priority. Disdain for the daily dull drum is part of my makeup. A quote from I book that I recently read a second time comes to mind. Isabal Kuhn missionary to China had a very wise grandmother. She wrote in one of Isabel’s autograph books, “A noble life is not a blaze of sudden glory won, but just in the adding up of days in which good works are done.”
This quote struck me as singularly fitting to the beginning of this year 2025 in which one or two evil seeded characters left us with a January 1st that many will not soon forget. Some in fact found in hard to continue on with celebrations of beginnings anew. The daily dull drum seems rather appealing to me rather than such tragic excitement.
I started and finished a baby blanket that needs to get in the mail. The little darling has already gained a half pound to her birth weight. I lamented the family not getting to even meet her until she is nearly crawling. Perhaps, I could get out of my comfort zone and go visiting. that sounds ludacrous.
When you get the wrong package, and the neighbor gets your package: Do you call the delivery company, or the neighbor? I texted the neighbor. And we had it all settled in less than two hours. I probably would have been on the phone that long with the delivery company. Sometimes thins are best settled on our own terms.
The days home alone can be quite uneventful, and then again… The new year has had it’s share of visiting strangers. Today the rural water serviceman came to take a look at our intake water pit. Yes there is a slow drippy leak. No it does not show up on the meter. Yes the T-offs have some corrosion after twenty three years. yes the sediment filter was a little clogged. No it was not really affecting the water pressure. Any other questions? Oh the plant system building is concrete and not really a geodesic structure. Okay now that I am thoroughly froze once again, can Charlie please have another cookie..
Kona in his rug bed. Crochet circle with sweater sleeve edging, stuffed with fiber fill for a perfect puppy pillow!
Today was just another day in which I once agin realized I love Charlie more than I ever really liked Honey. Poor girl. We just were not really suited for each other. All that training…. Such a long time investment. Charlie has had virtually no blind guide training, yet his loyalty to me won by cookies alone, gets him to my aid in record time. And he just seems to understand, when I say slow down, watch for the step, where is the repairman, or whatever. Loyalty is preferred to friendliness. Charlie can be a little rude as a guard dog, but he does his job well.
The latest C2C installment with the backwards bobble stitch border. Takes longer to do the border than the blanket. Pretty wintery baby colors!
Creature comforts are what make a home hospitable. So I took one of the rugs from my mother’s dispersals and made one of those dog beds. We also bought a couple more for the vehicles and going places. A dog needs a place to call his own. And after teaching “place” for all this time it works well. Finally took two hours to teach him “please” the other day. Maybe that will work for the outside need. Maybe.
Green things make me feel at home. the Holiday cactus on it’s pedestal perch has not stopped blooming since my hubby’s dad passed away. I have never seen a cactus bloom for such a long time frame. We have been blessed with blooms for two and half months now. The nectar picture is a pleasant surprise. The citronella took root and I have two happy plants. One to share, and one for myself. The Kalanchoe has little blooms buds. But no sign of what color the flowers will be yet. The seedlings are up in the greenhouse and it’s time to start another tray os something. Miniature zinnias first I suppose. Maybe marigolds! Oh, and I should probably send some seed to the little darling the blanket is for, because that is her name!
Holiday cactus on pedestal-air flow means more blooms. Citronella in greenhouse rooted in! And Kalanchoe on the right will have blooms some day! What color will they be?
The verse for the week is Isaiah 46:9-10 “Remember the former things of old: for I Am God, and there is no other: I Am God and there is none like me. Declaring the end from he beginning and from ancient times things not yet done, saying, ‘My counsel shall stand and I will accomplish all My purpose.’” And more than ever, I need to reminded who God is, who the Sovereign of the Universe is, and Who is working right in my own little circle of influences to make each and everyone of those that i know and pray for His purpose.
Once upon a time, my daughter gave me a little writing journal. It is full of hundreds of writing prompts. Ice breaker group session questions are the kind that get people laughing or crying. I guess the emotional response is your choice.
My Scrappy Entrelac Stitch blanket, or prayer shawl, or something yet to be determined.
Today I decided just to get the juices flowing, I would pick one. The first one that I read was “what is something thoughtful that someone did for me?” And naturally, I thought of this journal of course. She bought me this journal. How nice. Just when I am not sure what to write about, and I don’t really want to talk about the same old things, here lies the little black thought provoker. Wasn’t that kind of her?
The next question was a little disconcerting. “when did you feel uncomfortable in some situation? How did you handle it?” Well, unfortunately, that was just today. And I can’t really write too much about it because it’s a little fresh. But when someone asks me to do something that is way beyond my comfort level, I ususally ask my husband to handle it. I get that sinking feeling that makes my anxiety want to go through the roof. Then I try to figure out how can I say “No” in the most polite way possible.
I usually make hats for the grand kids, but this year I made some for their friends, all in one family particular. I hope they fit! and this entrelac stitch pattern practice was a fail, so I had to start all over with a larger hook size.
The next writing prompt is more in my ball park. “What do people ask or tell me most commonly and how do I respond?” Well, the biggest issue that I have is my RP blindness and the continued decline of my eyesight. The most common and uncomfortable topic is people asking if they can pray for my healing. This desire for God’s healing is usually quite a cause for relationship drift. Why? because most people would rather have me healed they me required to help. Yep, I said it. most people would rather give God my rpoblem than take on my problem and help me . I guess it makes them feel uncomfortable that my eye sight will continue to decline and that I am well aware that someday I may be blind.
So, that’s how the prompts work huh?
Get right to the point of squirm already.
The next question is about regret. What is my biggest regret? That’s a tough one. I could pick one about my doggie owner me, or about my parenting me, or about my spouse life togetherness. Or I could just not answer today.
One day while at the littlest’s house, Kona napped and the baby (almost one) learned how to roll and trun and tried to get Kona to come to her. About three weeks later, she learned to fuss and tap her hands on the floor and get him to come to her. She clapped and clapped in delight to his response.
Living life with no regrets is hard to do. Living a life happy and full inspite of regrets is the answer.
How do I find motivation to keep one foot in front of the other when life does not add up to my expectations? Today is one of those days. The dark cloud seems to take every desire to move away from me even while the sun shines forth its brilliant warmth. So of course, the gloomy that kept me from moving much the other day, is now just the optisite in blinding light that keeeps me sitting within the shadows.
So today the thought process must be more dialed in or tuned in. But tuned in to what? Our sermon series at church is “Attitude of Gratitude.” The passage from the Psalms was a good one. Being thankful and making a list is sometimes hard to grasp. And being thankful inspite of life’s circumstances is a choice. Psalm 138:3 is the verse that I chose to focus on this week, “ On the day that I called, You answered me: my strength of soul You increased.”
The little succulant trunk planter my father in law made for me.
When it was cloudy, wet and almost fifty degrees, I went outside to find another one of these little pine needle succulants doing very well. Now it is nearly zero and the wind chill has made breathing outdoors difficult. The little plant, not yet succumbed to the cold, woked as an excellent specimen in this little planter. The little miniature “trunk” planter is so cute. And the plant has such a funnny story. My father in law thought that it should “grow” rather than just clean the air. So he fertilized it. When I retrieved the plant five months later, it was a giant bush! So I just cut off all of the tips and put them in the succulant soil mixture. And then I had two dozen plants instead of one.
Christmas is only a week away. And yes I find that the world has been painted by the color of my husband’s father’s passing. It took us nearly two weeks to get the tree up, lit and decorated. We watched a television show for distraction. There aren’t any gifts wrapped yet. The purchasing has begun, but we are struggling with the “spirit” of Christmas. Loss colors our lives iwht colors that are unseen to the naked eye. My hope is that we find joy in all of the memories. My prayer is that we find hope in sharing the stories with those her in our lives this season.
The Lord’s prayer has s phrase that we often say, but think little about the whole of it’s meaning. “Give us this day our daily bread…” This week we finally found Kona the right food! I learned asking God for help to feed the puppy right is okay. And He asnwered our prayers!
Isaiah 11:3 “And his delight shall be in the fear of the Lord”. The verse goes on to say we should not judge things simply by what we see and hear. Wisdom needs a deeper dive just to fully understand. And sometimes the secrets of the Lord are for Him to keep and for people of greatness to find out. Do I give God the glory and fear Him when I can’t figure something out or when He supplies the answer?
I recently watched a movie on my prime account called “Gifted.” I was impressed by the dive into the Foster Care System and the failures of our court system to side with the acting parent. Whether blood relation should be first in the best welfare of a child is often disputed. In this case the primary caregiver finally won and the system demanded more specifics in that care. Most of the time the foster care system fails both the child and the parent.
We have our own case in the family of acting care giver. And the child was removed unto the system. However, our prayers are that the acting caregiver, my brother, will be able to continue his love and care in visitation and genuine love.
Kona with a recent Bark Box TM toy.
Don’t judge by what you see or hear… I have not ever really had much to do with today’s silliness. In fact, we had a book for the kids to help them understand. “Mommy, why don’t we do Halloween?” The book was intended to help kids gain understanding of differing worldviews and choose Jesus.
One of my four year old relatives said, “well, halloween is fake but Christmas is Jesus, and that’s real.” Yes, sometimes it takes a child’s mind to get the point across properly. One can dress up anyway he or she chooses, but it’s does not change the inside. The heart of the matter is what matters.
We spent a whole month trying to understand the “mind” of our little Kona, only to discover the whole thing is all about the stomach. Yep, I should know that by now. I mean really. We once had a Shih Tzu mix dog that developedoped “nut gut.” And while that dog truly drove me batty, I knew that Kona had not been given something bad to eat. So what truly was all the behavior problem with changing the food.
Apparently, Kona was an Oatmeal and Chicken puppy. Who would have guessed that is what he also must have as an adult food. We finally found an adult formula that is agreeing with his stomach. Small dogs are a breed all of there own, I guess.
The second day on the new food had him less nippy, more settled and actually asking to go outside for potty (pee). Thank God that some companies out there know that if a puppy grows up on oatmeal, he can’t switch to rice, or legumes, or potato. Bother. And I’m glad that my daughter was simple in her prayers at lunch with her kiddos and asked God to help us find the right food for Kona.
My review of Bark Box TM is ongoing. They are very consistent for this whole year of subscription toy and treat by mail. The treats have been helpful, though some do not agree with his tummy. Charlie gets those. The toys have been rather dumb sometimes. but the one above we named Bruce after the character of Batman. I tried to rotate the toys. But for the most part, they just get lost or put in the travel bag and we rotate that way. He does not destroy toys so is allowed to play with most anything.
Final notes on the last week of October: The weather has turned more late fall / winter. The moisture system left the west side of the state with some snow. We received less than a half inch of precipitation. It was enough to dampen all the fallen leaves and add to the mold spores in the air. Hubby lawn vacuumed the leaves just before the rain arrived. I am also thankful for that machinery. So on we go into the next month. I suppose this is not the last of Kona’s Journal entries.
So here is my praise to God for brilliant minds that learn all about the digestive needs of a little puppy and put together a formula for the small breed dog. here’s hoping that his weekend at the doggie hotel does not mess him up too much. It’s not exactly puppy college it’s more like going to the dogs and forgetting everything they ever learned. Yuck. Shower on Monday when we are back home.
