Trees, Wind, Roots

Open the box ....

Pour into bowl.....

add milk....

grab spoon.... 

Breakfast......

So as I sat looking out the window eating my culinary masterpiece, the scene outside captivated me. The wind rushed through the trees at great speed. As the wind blew, it caused the branches of the trees to dance with sweeping dips and radical twists in every direction. 

For awhile I watched with interest, but no particular thoughts. Then something interesting dawned on me. The wind was having its way with the trees, but something in their behavior we, as people, would do well to adopt. 

They bent to a point showing themselves flexible, but they were not moved. Roots fully established and firmly in place, the trees held their ground. 

To be flexible in small matters and firmly rooted in the absolutes of life will, in turn, give your life opportunity to flourish.....even on the windy days.

Familiar Sounds

Familiar sounds
Creaky Floors
Squeaky Doors
Trash Trucks
Mail Trucks
Delivery Vans
Lawn Mowers
Leaf Blowers

A child laying against his mother's breast drifts off to sleep, hearing the rhythm of her heart beat.

A man follows the sound in the distance of a sheep's bleat. Chickens cluck in protest as you collect the eggs. Horses stomp their feet with displeasure, one after another, as you move to clean their feet, with a fuss and a whinny as they submit and bend a leg.

A woman wakes to the sound of a heart monitor alarm warning of trouble. Without hesitation,.. she moves to fix the problem. Silence. The sound not heard. You can make your feelings heard when your blood runs hot. You can do it without saying a word.

A front door screen crashes against the frame, kids are home. 

Shower turns on.... dad is up.
Pots clanking....mom is cooking.
T.V. blares....grandpa is watching.

Someone knocks, seven locks are undone to let them in. Determined to triumph over discouragement and overwhelming crime, this battle, you will have it no other way....you will win.

Cheers and laughter fill the air at the announcement of a new child that would soon be there.

 Boots thunder on the entry floor. Solider son arrives 3 days early....all you can do is stop and stare. You embrace him, sobs released, your heart rejoices....you can't believe he is there.

Sounds of home. It is all different and all the same.

You are part of something....a family.

Familiar sounds....you know them well. 
Some Sad
Some happy
Some funny 
Some annoying 
Some sweet. 
Some important, some not so much. 
The sounds of home....its our hearts they touch.

Hope In The Form of Snow

Snow....a stunning surprise

Snow....a blanket of white
Snow....a reason to laugh
Snow....glistening in the sunlight
Snow....unexpected
Snow....welcome
Snow arriving New Years Eve morning
filling my heart with such joy, such utter delight.
Snow....for building snowmen
Snow.... for sledding down the hill
Unaccustomed to the temperature, my hands, nose, 
and especially my toes, feel the chill.
Snow in my California town; who would have
thunk it?  It doesn't snow here ever, but it did!  
We heard it was possible, but thought it was not 
exactly probable.

  In the dawning of the new day, we found a reason to display a smile, and laugh with childlike abandon. Our world was reborn as it lay there covered in white, like a blank canvas. In every snow flake, hope drifted down.

All over town clusters of children and adults, feeling like children, took a pause from their everyday stuff, to enjoy this happening that does not happen any day for us. 

A reminder of Hope came down....now it is our job, yours and mine, to pick it up and help it grow. Not only in our own hearts, but in the hearts of the people we encounter. Could be family, could be a stranger you brush elbows with on a crowded sidewalk. It could be a smile, a kind and helpful gesture, or listening while a hurting friend pours out their pain. 

From here, this place of newness, we begin with fresh perspective and hard earned wisdom. Hand in hand , we will make it through this year with high hopes; leading the way to fulfilled dreams and promises that are our new reality. 



 

Still in it...

Christmas is done.
As we speak, New Years plans are being spun.

Proposals will be popped.The discovery of babies on the way announced. From the excitement of first kisses at the stroke of midnight, bringing tingles, shivers, and flutters....
to 50 years of New Years together celebrated... some at grand parties, others quietly cuddling under the covers. 

Enjoy your New Years Eve, but be smart,
be careful; give your loved ones no need
to be tearful or prayerful.

Make a point to meet the new year....
greet the dawn of the new day.
Take a moment.....allow the sunrise
to cause you to pause a minute
with a grateful heart..........to 
realize how blessed you are with this
beautiful world and the fact that after
all the bumps, twists, and turns.... you
are still in it.

The Way Home

We all have a personal journey we take through life. A path all our own. God lays it out before our feet.  It is our choice if we step in time with God or take rabbit trails along the way. They are clearly marked ....

"Too Stubborn To Listen Lane"

"Insist On Learning The Hard Way"

"I Know It's Wrong But Feels So Good Avenue"

We all have these alternate routes branching out of our true path.  The beautiful, wonderful, exciting truth about God is that He marks the way back.

Even when we are deep in the forest of fear and confusion, we are not alone. Always remember that in our daily routine, God is ever present. If we lose sight of our personal path, nothing is lost. We can hold on to hope, knowing with confidence that God will light the way home.

Boxes

Boxes.... Moving Ones
Boxes.... Pencil Filled
Boxes.... Chocolate Laden
dark, white, milk, coconut covered,
nut filled, marshmallow smooth, toffee crunch.
Hand me that box, leave us in peace, this box
and I will keep each other company, I have
decided to eat it all for lunch!

Boxes.... foil wrapped, shimmering and sleek,
red, green, purple, and even a touch of pink.
A golden locket, football tickets, woolly sweaters,
accessories for i phones, and lovely new outfits.
Some spot on and some, keep it to yourself, total misfits.

Boxes, letters, bound together with silk ribbon,
worn from years of being tied and untied.
Pages faded and yet, message bright,
all those years ago, you read the words, touching
and true. You feel so near, it could have been tonight.

Out of the box with our thinking.
Unshackle from the expected.
Do something without being detected.
Clean a kitchen, surprise the lot, when they walk in
 to find all the dishes away in the cupboard
Every pot shining, not even a spot.

Clean a bathroom, shower, toilet and tub,
soap scum vanishing with every scrub.
Long days, high expectation, often the best
gift can be open arms offering a hug.

The best gift of all has been bestowed
in the days of old. You will find it's truth
in every corner, down each lane, path, and road.
The babe, He arrived unarmed and unclothed.
His purpose in coming, that was pure love to secure
the way for you to say, "Yes please lift my heavy burdens,
my crushing load"

Pop some popcorn, heat the cocoa,
settle in to hear about Jesus........
the best truth ever told.

Letters With Grandma

Letters are the bridges that allow us to reach each other over the miles and across the years. The hand written letter has given way to e-mail and texting these days, but for my Grandmother, there was no substitution for a personally written letter. Grandma's desk held years of family happenings. From all over the country, daughters, sons, grandchildren, and brothers and cousins would write regularly with the latest news. Many times tucked inside the folded pages, a snapshot of a sweet moment could be found. It could range from graduation pictures to an article that made a local paper, causing a family member to be mildly and momentarily famous. Always, though, it was the words and the love floating off the page into all of our hearts that was so meaningful. The reading of the letters was an event. Grandma's desk was situated on the back wall, the centerpiece of the living room.

We gathered around, often after sharing a meal together, because for grandma, food was love. We would settle ourselves in the same spots every time...grandpa would sit on his couch and mom and me on grandma's couch. Grandma, well, her place was in a small rocking chair positioned directly in front of the desk. It was just as though she was guarding the treasures inside.  Reaching into the desk drawers, stuffed with letters and bits of this and that; her hand would emerge with the most recent family news. Conversation would hush and we would wait expectantly. 

Grandma's voice filled the air. For me, this was comfort and connection. It was something that knit us all together and played a big part in shaping who I became and what I value in life. This routine repeated itself until Grandpa found his way to heaven and then Grandma, following just five months later. When it came time for their lives to finish, I discovered when it is someone you love, you are never ready, never happy, and never short on tears. And yet, I also discovered that every tradition, every memory, every sweet thing that transpired between you, lives on in your heart. Nothing is lost. As for me, I cherish the fact that I get to be part of a large loving family and the memories of letters with Grandma.