New Realities

It has been a very long time since I have written anything. Of course I post the occasional quick note on Facebook, or a little blurb on Twitter, but beyond that...I have kept my own counsel.  There was no design to this absence-no ploy or plot or scheme-it just happened because so much life happened.  And life keeps happening, coming in waves and waves.

Keeping my own counsel was never a plan.  Sometimes as my daughter says, "There are just no words."  It made more sense to pray and listen than it did to share or write.  So often, I just sit quietly and think and pray. Those old familiar Bible passages, noted and highlighted and memorized in childhood have an even deeper and richer meaning now.  And I am lifted and sustained by the writings of other fellow travelers, faithful folk who seek God in written words that challenge and inspire me.

Because of God's infinite Grace, I am not alone inside my head, in fact I am never alone.  My soul, my spirit, the essence of who I am walks each day, hand in hand with the Creator of the universe.  That doesn't happen because I am in any way special, or gifted, or exempt from pain.  I am just humbly blessed, through no effort or merit of my own.

I do not claim to be holy, pure, or saintly.  I am just as broken and in need of Grace as any person on the face of this planet. I struggle with the same doubts and fears and messed up plans and crashed dreams as everyone else does.  I am fully human, and in no way divine.

The greatest joys in my life have been, as always, centered around those I love-my family.  My husband is a rock of strength and devotion-never shaking, never wavering, eternally faithful and solid.  My grown children have proven that I did not completely fail as a mother, and that sometimes God will bless us by letting us experience our children as fully functional, God loving adults-in spite of our shortcomings as parents.  My grandchildren are God's undeserved gift for surviving parenthood somewhat "intact."  God is so good.

As in every life, there have been blessings and there have been worries, and sickness, and loss. There are so many "unfixables" that are difficult to let go of into God's hands.  These very new "realities" challenge me, and drive me to my knees.  I ask God every day for strength and wisdom.

These days I live and breathe prayer.  It is my new reality.

I had a flash of insight today. Since I am quickly approaching sixty-ugh-those welcome flashes just don't come as often as I would like. My brain is so addled by the "must dos" that insight flies past me and never lands most days.

The truth is that I miss "normal." I long for "regular" and "boring." "Ho-hum" sounds wonderful, and "stuck in neutral" sounds like a long lost dream. No life is free from trials and challenges, but I feel overwhelmed most days, and I long for those past days when silly staff upsets at preschool seemed like a huge deal, and I lost sleep over enrollment numbers and making payroll.


It feels like dear husband and I have been struggling for such a long time. Our families have experienced death, divorce, illness, moving, a near fatal automobile accident, ...even addiction. There were days when it was honestly difficult to know who to be aiming our thoughts and prayers and energy toward-the prayers to God and God only, but beyond that there were just too many wheels that needed oiling. We made a conscious choice to keep our efforts as close to home as possible. Our parents have many children, but our child has only one set of parents.

The only insight I have is this one. It doesn't mater that I do not know what the new "normal" looks like. I know that God is already there ahead of us, and His plan for our lives is worth whatever pain and struggle we must face. God is the same..yesterday, today, and forever. That is enough...praise God, it is enough.

It has been over a year since I wrote my scribbled thoughts here, shared my heart-wrenching prayers, dreamed and hoped and worried here.

Life has moved in strange ways, with pain and joy wrapped round each other, with only the unfailing grace of Jesus Christ to make any of it bearable. Life leaves us scarred and broken, marriages end, earthly lives are burdened by aging and frailty, and yet His love is unfailing.

I am grateful for His mercy and grace, and only pray for strength to love those He has given me in ways that will keep them safe, strengthen their walk, and bring glory to His name.

In His pressence I am humbled and grateful. I want so much for those I love, and I take comfort in knowing that He loves them even more.

Our family has suffered a loss. That is such a telling phrase- we have suffered-and we have lost someone near and dear to us. My sister Cheri's husband, Dave, has lost his battle to live longer here on earth with his family, due to a rare and unnamed form of malignant bone marrow cancer. He was fifty-eight years old, far too young.

I live my life in confidence of Dave's eternal home, but we are sad and feeling his absence in the lives of his wife and grown children. Father send your mercies, please comfort us and hold us up as we walk through these difficult days.

It is difficult to sit and wait. I have never been good at waiting, which is unusual, because in most things I am patient, but not with waiting.
We sit now each day and wait. We wait for doctors to name the villain in the plot to steal Dave's life. It has no name yet, but still the battle rages, and he grows weaker and more things go wrong. We wait for tests, and test results. We wait for treatments and therapies, and needles, and bags of IV fluids, and nurses and techs, and therapists, and still no name to the monster that consumes and kills in inches and moments and pain. We wait to know where he will move this time (move number five) and they don't tell us and move him when we are at dinner, and then we wait while he finally breaks and rages at his thirst and pain and wants to leave but cannot walk or breath, or live without the tubes and the needles and the doctors and techs, and the waiting and the waiting and the waiting.

Lord, I am so tired, but my tiredness cannot compare to that of my sister and her family. Please hold us up God as we walk through this valley together. Give us peace and joy and fill us with your spirit and life-giving grace and mercy. Watch over Dave as he rests and help the doctors find answers. Hold him safe in your hands as he sleeps this night in the ICU. Hold up all of us who love him. We pray with praise for your Holy Name. Amen.

The very best thing about a medical test is when it is over and everything is found to be okay, and the doc says not to come back for additional testing for ten years. Praise Him for all blessings large and small.

Happy birthday, child of mine...man after God's own heart. Warrior and protector, husband, father, brother, friend. We celebrate you today.

Thirty-eight years ago I was ten days shy of being twenty years old. It was a cold March, and it was the brief time span between winter and spring quarters at Ohio State. I had had a pretty lousy winter quarter, actually the worst of my entire college career (which is quite long and a story for another day.) It is difficult, nearly impossible to concentrate on college classes when you are planning a wedding.

Ours was such a simple and uncomplicated affair compared to many weddings, but it still had its share of crises and deadlines and worries. One sister lived too far away to come, but all the rest were bridesmaids, dressed in pink, my favorite color at the time. My mother sewed my dress, the bridesmaid's dresses, and even the little white jacket that my three year old brother wore as the "ring master." My preacher father married us, and nearly collapsed from running back and forth before the ceremony. Neither of us can remember much about the wedding, just his little sister sobbing audibly as we took our vows, and doing the totally gauche thing of opening our gifts at the reception where only red punch, wedding cake, nuts and mints were served. My dear husband arrived at the wedding with the grand total of $6.00 in his pocket. Blessedly folks were generous, and we, as we always have, had enough to get by.

I hardly recognize the young girl in the photos. The thin handsome gentleman seems so much more familiar...he still looks the same to me. We were so young, and many would say foolish and ill prepared for what lay ahead of us. It was the grace and constancy of God's love that saw us through.

How can so much time have passed? I know that I love, respect, and honor him more now. Thank you, God, for the blessing of loving a person so filled with your love...who finds joy in the simple, pure, and holy things in life. Besides, he still makes me laugh.

Thirty-eight more years? Probably not here on earth, but eternity...Yes!

Today everyone is Irish, with the wearin' of the green.
Today everyone is Irish, most everyone it seems.
They laugh and weep for the dear old folk,
Who came here from across the sea.
Today everyone is Irish, and most especially me!

A simple poem for my great-grandfather, John Riley Cordle. Happy St. Patrick's Day to all the "Irish" among us.

When I was a little girl, my great-grandmother thought I could play the piano. She loved to call out her favorite hymns and warble along while I plunked them out on the old upright dinosaur that graced the "parlor" of my grandma's house. She would sit and rock herself back and forth to the rhythm of the old familiar tunes and I would sweat bullets and bite my lip and try not to disappoint her too much. She rarely complained, and seemed to enjoy the company. Sometimes she would tell me how much better I sounded than the last time...God bless her.

Women who were born shortly after the end of the Civil war, as she was, usually had few options. Pretty much they had to marry, and she did, twice. Her first husband died while out west panning for gold. She was brokenhearted, but soon married a widower who had a parcel of children of his own. My grandmother was the oldest girl of that second marriage.


My great-grandma was a midwife, and she had played the piano and organ in several small churches, so how she ever tolerated the discordant mess that I was filling the air with, I'll never know. My father lived with her in his late teens, and he often went along on her "deliveries" to keep the men folk occupied while she and the mama to be did the real work.

The really cool thing is, I'll see her again. I just wonder if she'll be rocking and singing along to her favorite hymns. I had better start practicing.

"Wonder Woman," a.k.a "Bright Eyes" wants to be know as "Wheezer." Wow, should we even go there?

WORDS OF WISDOM FROM AN OLD MOM

Motherhood is a terminal illness. You die with their names on your lips and their joys and sorrows filling your heart.

Accept it now! It will make your life make more sense and make it easier to deal with the fact that you

(according to Jason Robards in the movie "Parenthood,")
"never cross the finish line, never spike the ball in the end zone."

Common now, we both know you are gonna lie there taking your last breaths worrying about how this dying thing is affecting them...

Hm mm..you are thinking that I am the one with this problem, yes, I can hear your thoughts. Okay, so maybe it is me.

Never mind.

"Sweet pea" has a new nickname. I call her "Wheels" because she is always thinking, analyzing, studying, figuring things out in her mind.

"Wonder Woman" no longer wishes to be know as such. There is simply no better nickname for her than "Bright Eyes." No guesses necessary as to whom this refers, right? This change is subject to her approval, of course.

Have a wonderful Monday all my sweetlings; Boo, Pixie, Wheels, Bright Eyes, Princess and Spiderman (who may morph into Ironman at any moment.)

I wonder how many of us spend even one minute on Thanksgiving Day counting our blessings. I worry that more thought is placed upon the menu than on giving thanks. I have too often been guilty of this, and hope to rethink the meaning of the day in this post.


I wonder if I made a list, could I even begin to enumerate with any accuracy the abundance that has been rained down on my life with such grace and mercy? At the risk of forgetting important things, I might try.

My Blessings

When I hold the hand and heart of a man, so very unlike the world's mistaken ideas of what constitutes a "real man," but filled with a noble humility, who loves with his whole heart and life and breath...I am blessed.


When I stand beside a family table and hear my eighty year old father give a heartfelt, loving prayer...I am blessed.


When I put my arms around my dear mama and know she is still here with me and in my home...I am blessed.


When I hear the voices of my siblings on cell phones, and travel far distances to laugh and cry with them, and love their families like my own in all the good days and bad days...I am blessed.


When I see the faces of my children and their spouses, see them as parents and know they are giving it their all...I am blessed.


When my heart leaps with joy when I see the faces of my sweet grandchildren and feel their hugs and kisses...I am blessed.


When I raise my voice in church to sing a hymn of praise to my God...I am blessed.


When I know that no economic crisis, or stock market woe, or bailout or crisis of any kind can change my unchangeable God, or His love for all of His creation...I am blessed.


When I know with all my heart that passions and philosophies and beliefs and words can separate us, but the power of unshakable love will keep us as strong and whole as any fortress built of granite...I am blessed.


Thank you, God, for all of it. Thank you for the joys, the pains, the sorrows and the triumphs. Thank you for the grace that forgives my broken places, and the mercy to hold me up when I fall over and over again. Let every breath I take and every thought I think bring glory and honor to your name, and may I never forget to be eternally grateful. Amen.

In the hills we have a saying,

"Sometimes you get the bear and sometimes the bear gets you."

This week I am feeling a little like the bear is behind me, gaining fast.

I started a new job on Monday. The church I am working for does its weekly worship bulletin on Microsoft Publisher (Vista of course:() I have not used Publisher for at least ten years, so the learning curve seems very steep right now. Besides the fact that I feel "watched" due to being such a newbie, I feel extra dumb to boot. Actually everyone is being wonderful, I just like to be more "on top" of things than I am currently feeling, it'll pass.

Monday was my youngest sister's birthday. Today is my second granddaughter (Pixie's) birthday, tomorrow is my Dad's eightieth birthday, Friday is my niece Jenny's birthday and my cousin and his four very active grand children are coming to stay at our house, and then on Saturday we are all having a huge party for my Dad's birthday. Whew!

Why is it that stuff just comes in big bunches followed by weeks and weeks of ho hum, yawn city?

I just keep remembering that I only have to do things just one at a time. Lord help me to enjoy my life, whether things come up on me in huge waves, or just roll into my life like a soft wave.

Praise God for life, in all its challenges and blessings.

There are just some words that scare the dickens out of you. That word today for me is Alzheimer's.

The verse that I am clinging to today is this:

"Be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart, all you who hope in the Lord." Psalm 31:24

Lots of folks are "from Kentucky" and I am one of those. My body needs only to cross the invisible plane that hangs in the air above the Ohio River and liberal uses of "Y'all" and a native southern drawl magically reappear. My husband and I once made a hasty journey to Frankfort to get my birth certificate and he told me I was fully "Kentucky conversant" with the sweet records clerk who so graciously met my need to be "certified." I never even noticed the dialect change. It was just like breathing, purely natural.

Our parents grew up in northeastern Kentucky, and left there when Dad entered the ministry in 1958. I was six years old, and obviously a dyed in the wool southerner by then. Our Michigan cousins used to love teasing us about the way we spoke. We used to howl and roll on the floor when we asked them to say "hog" and "dog." You see all our vowels require the adequate amount of time to get said properly. None of this short, clipped speech would do for us. If someone in Kentucky wants to tell you a story (and they all have stories, believe me) then you had better just plan on pullin' up a chair for a spell. It is gonna take some time!


Last weekend we took our parents back to see the those who stayed and lived their lives south of the river. There have been a few sporadic visits over the years when the hectic pace of life allowed. Last weekend we saw too few, spent way too little time with them, and all too soon it was time to travel back across the river and north to home.

It is good to know we come from such solid and God fearing stock. I have missed them, and they love me without seeing me as much as they would like. I wonder what our lives would have been like if we had stayed "south of the river?" Goodness knows.

Yesterday a funeral watch, seated along side loved ones, whose grief was complicated by broken relationship, lost dreams of what should have been.
Today the march of ordinary everyday life- of dirty floors, boxes of memories to be sorted and sold at a weekend sale, wishes for healing of a dear friend.
O Great Giver of Life see me through the contrasts, the highs and lows, the gifts received and the hopes lost. Stand beside me as I live this day for You. Amen.

Added to Things I Never Thought I Would Do

Watch the Home Shopping Network with my mom who is watching the Home Shopping Network while she talks to me by cell phone about stuff they are selling. It was actually kind of fun:)