Moving Towards The Light

 

Tears For a Friend

Another friend’s marriage fell apart this morning.  I am heartsick to the point of throwing up.  I’ve known there were problems but thought that the counseling and the work they were doing would somehow pull them out of all this. 

Today, the husband gave up and walked away.  From his wife.  From his home.  From his job.  From his less-than-one-year-old son. 

There are worse things in life than tornado-damaged homes and long-term illnesses and crime in the streets. 

There are days when all hope dies and love stops in its tracks.  There are days when Satan wins and God loses and the brokeness of this world leaks all over your extremely human life. 

My blessed friend is having one of those days.

Grape is the Flavor of the Day

The past couple of days I’ve really hunkered down and worked on the yard.  I’ve got some HUGE stick piles waiting for the tree service to haul away should they ever decide to bless me with their presence.  I’ve been mowing as I go, working around the big limbs that are down, and just trying to make some headway where I can.

Last night I stopped for awhile to cool down and I grabbed a sugar-free grape popsicle out of the freezer.  Grace and Petee knew what was coming and they were out the door in a heartbeat, waiting for me at the bottom of the steps to claim their portion of the treat.  We sat down around the bottom step and I began to soften up the frozen concoction, licking away to my heart’s content as the two pugs danced for treats at my feet. 

And that’s when I saw him…

He landed on the orange oriole feeder with great aplumb.  He leaned over and began to dip his little black head into the small cups of grape jelly that lined the feeder.  I caught a glimpse of him out of my left peripheral vision and almost dropped the popsicle right then and there.  He was bright orange and black - the Halloween costume of all halloween costumes - and he was GORGEOUS. 

I began wildly breaking off pieces of popsicle to keep the dogs quiet as I glanced over in his general direction.  It really WAS a Baltimore Oriole eating out of my feeder - not a mistaken cardinal in harsh sunlight or some big grackle eating everything in sight.  I hadn’t wasted all that money on an oriole feeder after all - a real live oriole was actually eating from it!  And what a bird he was! 

I looked down to hand the pugs a last bite of popsicle and when I looked back up, he was gone.  I thought about how I had been graced by God with enough money to buy a box of popsicles for me, Gracie and Petee to enjoy and the oriole had been graced by God to have found his way to a house who understood the importance of refilling little tiny cups that held a half-teaspoon of grape jelly each so he could have a treat as well. 

We all had our daily bread for another day; today’s bread just happened to be grape-flavored.   

Recess

Seeing God in All Things

We had another round of heavy weather again yesterday.  Once it pushed through, the temperatures really dropped off…it’s about 40 degrees here this morning!  There’s a really brisk wind still pushing the clouds overhead at a pretty good clip but the sun is out and it’s supposed to be beautiful for Mother’s Day.  (I wonder what Grace and Petee got me!  LOL)

There have been a couple of new birds stopping over at the feeders lately.  I’m sure most of them are migrating on because, in the two years I’ve been putting food out, have never seen these little guys before.  Unfortunately, I haven’t managed to get any really good images of any of them (yet) but I’ve had some Indigo Buntings (solid blue and absolutely gorgeous!), a Baltimore Oriole (orange and black and quite a sight!) and then, this morning, some bird with a solid black top, solid bright white underneath and black & white checkers on the tail end stopped by for a bite.  I’m going to have to hit the books to find that one!

Something else happened last Saturday.  Pastor was doing a message on how God is in ALL things (not just the times we miss tragedy but He’s there no matter what.)  He had us stop for 60 seconds and write down something that wasn’t right about our lives…something (or someone) that makes us stop and ask God, “Why me?”  I wrote not just one thing but several…took the whole sixty seconds, I did.  Looking at the list, I was almost overwhelmed with how NOT RIGHT my life is. 

Then, I found myself sitting there with the biggest smile on my face. 

Why?

Because, despite my being passionate about photography and sitting for eight hours a day in an office doing secretarial work; despite the ongoing battle of a relationship I have with my mother and sister; despite the bad ticker, arthritis, and bad lower back; despite my never having enough money to get through a year without adding to my credit card debt; despite my having next to nothing put away for retirement; and despite my still wondering if God will ever send a man to live my life with me…

I’ve never been happier.

Seriously.

It’s absolutely ridiculous how blessed my life is.  I see God’s hands all over it - know that He’s working to bring me out of the desert and into the lush, green world of Eden - and I’m so okay with that waiting that it scares me sometimes.  Maybe one day I’ll get to quit my security blanket of a job for a full time gig of fun and adventure - and maybe I won’t.  Maybe one day I’ll look in my bank account and there will be more there than I could ever spend - and maybe I won’t.  Maybe one day I’ll look up and Mr. “Couldn’t Be More Sweet” will be standing in front of me - and maybe he won’t.  Somewhere, along the road of life, I’ve realized it’s more important to be happy with what you have than to worry and fret about what you don’t.  Somewhere, as I’ve been traveling through this journey, I realized its not circumstances that make you happy - it’s something much more profound than that. 

After three years of walking the walk and talking the talk, I now have a basic understanding of who God is and how He works.  I know it is Him who is control of my life and I’m all for giving it to Him.  I’ve learned that brokeness is part of the process and I know that healing is always right around the corner if I just keep pushing forward.  I know that God intends all things for good and that He loves me more than anyone on earth ever will.  Or could. 

Yes, there’s a lot that’s still not right about my life - but there’s one main thing that is - and that - that one thing has made all the difference.   

TGIF

I’m tired. 

I’m too tired to pick a photo or be funny or even rhyme anything.

I mowed the front yard last night and it whooped my butt. 

My mind is on permanent disconnect this morning. 

That’s not too good cause I have so much to do and probably won’t remember to do half of it.

Oh well. 

It’s Friday. 

Thank you, God.  Thank you for weekends.  Thank you for a day of rest. 

Now if I could just live long enough to get to that day…

You Know The One

You know the song…

“Oh I’ve got joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart…down in my heart…down in my heart…Oh I’ve got joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart…down in my heart to stay!”

(Ha!  Tell me you won’t be humming THAT one all day!)

Anyway, I’ve got joy down in my heart today.  I FINALLY made it to small group last night.  Two weeks ago we got washed out by a very heavy storm with lots of rain and lightning.  Last week it was suspended because they were putting together the big “Garage Sale for Jesus.”  Therefore, this was the first week I actually made it to church to join in on the discussion.  It turned out to be only the three group facilitators and myself.  :-)  With only four people in the group we instantly went deep into things and stayed there until they practically turned the lights out on us.  Woo Hoo!  What fun!

The one other woman in the group is one of my favorite people from the ladies small group I was in last fall.  She asked me if I had brought my Bible  with me because she had read from it at the other group one night and had really liked it and kept thinking she wanted to buy herself one.  I hadn’t brought it with me because the church usually puts bibles out for us to use so I told her I’d bring it next week…

Little does she know I’m going to go online today and buy her her own copy! 

*Shhhhh…that’s a secret!*

I can’t wait to see her face when she realizes it’s hers to keep.  I’ve never had the opportunity to buy a Bible for someone else and I’m so excited that I was prompted by God to do it for her.  She’s just such a sweet, wonderful person. 

So I’m just walking around on cloud nine today, loving the discussion we had last night about how God is working in our lives and I’m just so excited to be able to buy a bible for this nice lady, knowing how much she’s going to get out of it as she reads through it. 

It just feels like a blessed, blessed day.  Doesn’t it?

Hidden Treasure

A quiet patch of forest. 

A moment of introspection. 

A prayer up to God. 

And pansies.

 

Lost And Never Found

When I was growing up I had three best friends in my immediate neighborhood – Sandi, who was a year older than me; Leeann, who was a year younger than me; and Julie, who was my age.  Between third grade and High School it seemed like I was always at one person’s house or another. 

Sandi lived the closest to me - her backyard butted up caddy corner to my front yard.  I could scamper across my front yard, flip the handle on the chain link fence, cut across her backyard, and be inside her house in less than 30 seconds.  We had a lot in common back then, especially our undying love for all things Osmond (me for Donny, she for Jay.)  As Sandi got older, though, her thoughts and attentions turned towards boys she had a chance of actually meeting and I, still too young to pursue such a wanton lifestyle, turned towards the companionship of my other two friends.

I still live in the home I grew up in.  Sandi’s dad and brother still live in their old family home, as well.  For the past several years, Sandi has returned from her life in Colorado to celebrate her aging father’s birthday and she usually calls me so we can get caught up on each other’s lives when she’s in town.  For me, it is pure formality, as my actual friendship with her ended several decades ago. 

Because her mom and my mom share the same best friend, I’ve been privvy to the ups and (mostly) downs in Sandi’s life over the years.  I’ve heard about the partying lifestyle she’s led and all the jobs (and husbands) she’s lost because of it.  I know all about the doctor that told her if she didn’t stop drinking she’d be dead in five years – and that was several years ago.  Sandi called me up on Sunday and left a message that we should get together while she was home…and I couldn’t help but cringe a little.  Seeing her the past few years has been extremely painful for me.  It’s tough listening to her talk about her drinking binges and the so-called “wonderful life” she has back in Colorado, knowing full well that she’s in total denial about how bottomless her life has really become.  I chose not to return her call that day but when she persisted on seeing me, I gave in.  Monday afternoon she came through that chain link gate and up to my home, just like she did when we were 12 years old. 

She had aged a 100 years since the last time I had seen her.  On top of her sunken frame and the road map that ran across her face, she now shook uncontrollably and the stench of alcohol was so prevalent that it oozed out from every pore.  My heart died a little bit when I first hugged her. 

She came in and sat down, announced that she would be moving back home at the end of May - for good.  I asked what happened to that wonderful husband of hers and she informed me that he was nothing but a no good piece of sh*t.  She managed to lose another job recently and he had had enough.  After ten years of being married to the life-of-the-party girl, the party was finally over.  Now, he wanted her out. 

She told me she wished he would just beat her and get it over with.  She told me she’d rather he leave her dead in a ditch than to continue calling her the names he had been throwing at her.  I feigned ignorance and asked why, after ten years of marriage, he was suddenly so mean to her.  She looked down at her shaking hands and told me she really didn’t know.  She mentioned losing her job recently but also mentioned that he had lost his job a time or two over the years and she’d never thought about divorcing him.  I asked her if maybe he was just pissed and that he’d be better when she got back home where they could talk through things.  She said she doubted it and stared down at her hands again. 

I wanted to cry out, “Sandi, I KNOW.  I know you’re an alcoholic and you know you’re an alcoholic and your husband certainly knows you’re an alcoholic.  The drinking is what is getting in the way.  The drinking is what has caused you to lose everything in your life…the jobs and the men…the friendships…everything.”  I wanted her to look me in the eye and ask me for help.  Every time I tried to get her near the subject, though, she glassed over and went blank.  Her mind could no longer go there.  She had been in denial for so long now that her brain literally wouldn’t allow her to see what she didn’t have the strength to face. 

So we talked about our families instead…who had gotten married and who had gotten divorced and what part of the country everyone was living in now.  We talked about our parents being in their 70’s and how close we, ourselves, were to being in their shoes.  We talked about a lot of things - none that really mattered, though. 

Then, her eyes glassed over again as she looked around my kitchen and, out of nowhere, she said, “Remember when your mom used to make us Rice Krispie treats and we’d eat them right out of the pan because none of us could wait for them to get cool?”  Out of all the memories…she chose one I had no recollection of…one I’m not even sure ever really happened.  I certainly couldn’t place it.  But, for her, it broke through the fog of alcohol and made her face light up.  There, for a second, I saw a glimpse of my old friend from days gone by before her life took that one humongously wrong turn, leaving her sitting at the corner of Sadness and Denial. 

We said our goodbyes and she headed down across my front lawn, closing the gate behind her as she went.  I wondered if she’d really be back in May.  I wondered if she’d even live that long.  Then I spent the rest of the evening wondering where my denial lives inside of me?  And is it as deep as hers?  Am I blind to a part of myself that I can no longer stand to face?  When was the last time I looked myself in the mirror from head to toe?   

Then I looked down at my hands, joyful to see they were steady as a rock, and I prayed.    

Columbine (The Flower)

It had the bad luck of sporting the same name as one of the worst school tragedies in our history.  Poor flower.  I can’t look at it without feeling a little distraught inside over the events that transpired at the school that day.  To be honest with you, the Columbine I have planted in my front yard died in the late snow last year and I was happy about it.  “Good,” I remember thinking, “Now I won’t have to think about those kids every day on my way to work…” 

But then, this past weekend, I ran across this old friend of mine in the flower beds at Powell Gardens and I was happy to see it again.  I noticed the way its flowers hang down - almost like it’s head was lowered in rememberance of what happened that day.  I realized that, despite the gloomy association with its name, I missed seeing its beauty around my flower beds and think its finally time to plant some more this spring.