Our jungle walk...and drive to Cuenca!

On Friday afternoon, we packed up the clinic and we did some of the "tourist" thing!  There were 2 hiking trips from which to choose.  Most of us chose the trip that kept us out of the rivers... and away from "surprise" creatures of the wet Amazon!  Our trip was full of beautiful vistas, flowers and fun times together.  The taxi took us, but 5 of us walked back together, seeing the park and city square.

The flora was beautiful. 

 

Antheriums...

                         Like  a honeysuckle..

The view of Gualiquiza from the hike... through the jungle trees!

David and Ann along a city wall.  You found bright colors often along the way... reflective of the culture "likes".

As we left the town for Cuenca, we piled in a 40 passenger bus of which 25 people and the luggage and medical equipment filled it.  I sat with one of my favorite new friends, Dr. David Cromer.  He raised his eyebrows and said, "You know we are now embarking on the most dangerous part of our week!?"   He was right.  The roads were wet, collapsing in areas, narrow (the driver had to back up on the mountain roads 3-4 times to make room for another vehicle to come through)

and just plain scary.  

But, the vistas were plain beautiful.  

We arrived safely!

A Week in Ecuador...Part II

     One of the blessings of this trip was the event of having Deborah join the team.  She and I met at my daughter's wedding, the groom being her brother.  I had told her about the trip I was doing in April, and before the week was over she was considering coming with us!  Deborah has this wonderful way with children... and by the end of the week, her communication in  Spanish was admirable.  As a matter of fact, we had a great time getting to know each other better... I loved it.   Every time I turned around it seemed she was with the children.  Dr. David caught her unposed with a posse of kids she was talking to outside our hotel!!!

 (Children telling Deborah and I their ages... after enjoying ice cream that David and I bought them!)

  

     

     

 

Babies were babies... cute as in any culture!  I haded out "booties" that I had brought from 

home, and the mothers were so grateful.  We handed out candiesand bracelets to older kids, though we waited to do so at times that we would nothave 50 at once surrounding us for such goodies!  They were respectful and all smiles.

    As I watched them play, sometimes for hours of waiting, my heart went out to them.  They were playing in the dirt of the courtyard of which we knew parasites harbor... the same dirt we were sure to wear shoes to protect ourselves. These moms had no alternative but to let them be children and play, though parasites were a surety.  Therefore, every adult and child left the pharmacy having taken the medication, unless they were pregnant,  to rid their system of parasites.  

     A special part of my being with the team was the managing of the lines, calling them into the doctor and assisting him/her with exams if needed.  Though I knew none of their language, suffice a few words, it warmed my heart how smiles and laughter transcend language barriers.  In fact, those very barriers were often the catalyst of laughing with each other.  There was one group of women in particular that had come 4 hours from a small village out of town, and they embraced us in smiles and eyes.  I called one in the group my  "special friend" as she and I had fun trying to talk together.  She was so delightful.  She and another friend, in their 60’s, had brought along 5 others much older, for treatment.  At one point we realized that we had totally misunderstood what the other was saying when the interpreter had time to help us, and we dissolved in laughter.  

You understand then, the delight when on our bus trip through the jungle to Cuenca, several days later, we stopped at a village to use a restroom and as I jumped off the bus, there she was with her bundle of bananas… trying to get to another village to sell them.  Ann took our picture (right, the lady I'm hugging in the white hat).  It drove home that God has made us in His image, and there is no better example of how we care and communicate beyond our language barriers.  Emotions are understood… no matter what one’s language is stated to be.  He made us relational.

      

     There were things that stretched me…toilets where no paper could be put into them, so it was thrown in cans next to the stool, dirty public areas with children playing in the parasite laden dirt , and seeing babies crying in card board boxes next to their dad as he earned a living shining shoes at the airport entrance.  I saw people with money, who also came to us for the desire to see an American doctor, but the constant poverty and extreme suffering of the working class was indescribable…and I never heard them complain.  They just wanted to have some help to feel better while they did their work.  Hoping against hope that there was some magic cure and provision for them from America.  They sacrificed health and comfort to send their children to the local Catholic schools, getting for them a good education and maybe a way out of their own plight. 

A Week in Ecuador...Part I

     I have returned from a trip in April, that I have hoped to do for years now.  Since as a widow, I very much felt that I should be less risky in my activities until at least the last child was in college (though risk is living life and not location),  I

would pray for my friends, David and Ann, as they went on Medical Missions each year, looking forward to the day I too could go.  After waiting to see if the dates would interrupt our upcoming wedding, a date was set that would allow my going with the obstetrics and gynecology team to care for some of the people in Ecuador.  So, I signed on with Christian Medical and Dental Associates, made plane reservations, and got the needed shots for the area. I am so glad I did.

     Words can't readily describe all that I saw, the people I cared for... but I hope to reflect in part what happened in my short week there.  The airline story is one of a kind that I've never experienced before…and hope to not do so again.  We could not get out of our home airport to reach Houston due to weather in Houston.  When released, we missed the single flight out to Quito by 30 minutes.  We stood in long lines to get on the next evening... and spent some wonderful time with dear friends that took us in!  Jon and Dusty... THANK YOU!    But, that only begins the saga!  Assured our bags (one each) and 3 huge plastic medical carriers (one each) were on the correct flight, we arrived in Quito, meeting up with the other group that had been delayed, without any bags!  We stayed overnight as planned, hoping they would be found... knowing that the next flight was in 24 hours and we would be long gone... deep into the country. 

    Another flight, and 7 hours on a bus through the jungle and we were at our destination ...  Gualaquiza, Ecuador... and without our bags.

   Gualaquiza is a town in the Amazon Basin, in southeast Ecuador.  It’s altitude lies at the transition edge of what would be called the Amazon Jungle, though we were in jungle indeed.  As we arrived late, we missed the set up of pharmacy and clinic…but the team that arrived before did an awesome job without us and we arrived in time to help with the first clinic day in the afternoon.  People were separated according to OB/GYN, pediatric (we had the blessing of a pediatrician), and general care, registered and then triaged according to symptoms.  Those who were potential surgery cases were seen as early in the day as possible so that the appropriate blood work and tests could be run and surgery scheduled for the following day.  After the Doctor had seen the patient, they were sent to native speakers who would talk to them about why we were here… to share God’s love and the gifts He has given us with them.  They could pray, or not, believing that Christ died for their sins and asking His forgiveness, choosing to get to know this new God better.  Many prayed...and many did not.  

    They then went to the pharmacy to get the meds prescribed them…including a month’s worth of vitamins, and a parasite treatment when appropriate. (Ann and I started counting a box of 20,000 multivitamins when we arrived… and then started the pediatric vitamins and calcium pills…into packages of 30.   Who knows how many pills we counted as a group!  See picture to right... note what is left of the 20,000 in the bag!)  

  

    Over 4 ½ days we treated 670 patients.  In no way could we treat them with the same level of technology we have in the States, but how grateful they were.  The people could not thank us enough, bringing fruit to show their gratitude…or paying as much as they could…maybe $ 20 for a surgery or treatment.  They are a people with integrity, working hard and not expecting handouts.  And, whatever you can do, no matter how small… they are so appreciative.  One lady, in her 50’s had been bleeding for several years and the doctors recommended a hysterectomy.  Her first question was, “Can I go back to work the next day?”  Her work was swinging a machete to cut grasses down in roadways and pastures.  I do not know if she decided to have the surgery, because of the great cost to her in pay in not being able to work.  The complaints or symptoms in triage showed great suffering… and aging before their time.  Women my age seemed to be 15- 20 years older.  Men suffered greatly too… and thus they showed up to be seen by an American doctor, even though they knew it was of a clinic specialty for women.  

As with any culture it seems today, the alcohol flowed in celebration or coping skills, and while we were there, a national election and campaign added greatly to the consumption.  I know families are very important to the culture, but could not get a read on what the different dynamics are in relating than we are used to in America.  It seemed as though there were fewer men, and I silently wondered if there were many widows due to the hardship of living.  

Of hay and horses...

I've spent many hours in my life feeding horses, hogs, and cattle. I've pitched hay from a tractor, hay mow or from a nearby hay stack. My eyelashes and nose often "froze" while panting in the activity of the hard work, or my skin burned from the very hot, dry sun. And now I can say that I rode on and took pictures from a sleigh pulled by draft horses, loaded with hay to pitch to the other horses in the pasture... and I didn't "have" to do it! Thank you Nick and Mike for adding to my repertoire of farming experiences!

They are one!

Pi Day was "the day", when Becky and Adam tied the knot!! What a day it was... sun, vistas, family, friends... and a very in love bride and groom, depending on One other than themselves...

What else could a parent ask...

I remember when....

... my 2 oldest had 2 different stories when caught doing something that was not allowed. Do I remember what it was now? Heck no. But I remember how my mind scrambled about how I could teach these 2 young blessings of mine that lying, deceit or "white lies" was simply not acceptable. Ever! In the moments that only young parents can understand, I needed help now and quick to teach this character lesson. (Arrow prayers are wonderful.) As my heart prayed very quickly with words for help, I started to explain to them I was not dumb. I knew that one of them was not telling me what really had happened... and the one who had tried to protect themselves with not telling the truth was wrong. Therefore, I was giving them one chance to correct the wrong action. One at a time, I instructed, they would tell me (while away from the other) what had really happened and that the only way to be sure their story matched would be to tell the truth. If their stories matched, there would not be the expected punishment, but mercy. If they didn't, both would get the expected punishment... and the guilty would cause pain for the other... just as lying or deceit does in life, period. Guess what! I got 2 matching stories... and a remorseful heart, and a young prayer that said they were sorry. Do I remember who lied? Nope. I just remember the quick wisdom sent from above, the grateful heart of a woman who was entirely inadequate at the moment, and the love I felt for both of those children entrusted to me.

How different life would be if all lived telling the truth... and young moms trusted God for wisdom. Believe me, this was not the last panic session I had with parenting... and even though they have all fledged the nest... it probably won't be the last. I've learned with full heart, it is good to look to Another... in all things... and not hide...

May I also be as honest with Him.

Transition... welcome to real life!

Webster states:transition is the process or a period of changing from one state or condition to another.

I highly recommend:

Lost in the Middle, Paul Tripp
and
Still Going It Alone, Michele Howe


These last 6 months have found me writing and choosing not to post a blog. Too uncomfortable. Even though I was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was normal! And this comes from one that is very willing to let everyone see exactly what I'm feeling, thinking or experiencing because of a conviction that as I learn things in life, I certainly have the ability.... even the responsibility... to share those discoveries with others. Vulnerable... yes. Comfortable being vulnerable... absolutely... until this fall.

I always knew this appointment in life would be one of my greatest grief periods. After all, an empty nest truly reminds one of, and reveals the depth of pain in the missing of another in life. I knew that sending my last off to college would bring the grief of burying my dear husband David to a new level of intensity... I just had no idea how intense!

The first grief was the missing of my youngest son, our busy social schedule.... but especially our Sunday afternoon dates! You see, at one point when I knew I couldn't compete with the wonderful girls around him in the "fun" department (Mom's job description entails a lot of "not fun" talks and responsibilities), I told him on the way home from church one day, that Sunday afternoons were ours, and that we were going on dates! We now know every coffee shop in Tulsa, many restaurants, and have enjoyed many outings to movies and buying him debate suits! From looking at pictures, discussions or playing Speed Scrabble over coffee, I had no idea how much harder that could make a "transition", and it did! But, despite the pain, I'd do it all over again!

After the initial adjustment of quietness, a totally free slate on schedule was mine... and I purposed to protect it for up to a year. You see, I knew that one of my great coping mechanisms for pain is busyness. And I knew that my being a widow, my missing of David, would begin in earnest as the silence closed in. I simply decided to face the pain head on... and thus hopefully shortening it's grip, instead of partially ignoring it and facing it longer. That doesn't mean I was always at home, quite the contrary. I've had many fun outings with friends, but I chose to not become so committed that I didn't have to deal with the loneliness and pain of my being alone...of finding who I was, since my roles over the last 28 years have been wife and mother, intensified in the simple fact of being the only parent. That transition has been very hard, complicated with other things. At many times I've had to battle feelings of being "lazy"... after all, what do I have to show for my time (funny thing, I often thought that with toddlers and teens)! Guilt has played its seductive tones to try to disuade me from the task at hand... grieving or otherwise. A sense of disorientation kept me "busy" with the urgent things in life... luring me away from the opportunity I had to spend in Bible study or writing. Questioning my life... my very essence, became a thief of energy and thinking of others. And, for one who loves companionship... many nights alone were simply lonely.

Tripp says in his book that there are 2 things true about every middle aged person. First, we are aware that our lives have not worked according to our plan and second, once again like a toddler, we are always trying to figure our lives out. He goes on to state that those points describe the essence of "mid-life"... the collision of powerful personal awareness and a powerful personal interpretation. All of a sudden we see things that have been developed in our lives without our awareness, in the busy years of life... both good and bad. But, oh, the attention or focus we give the bad! Thus explains the up front vulnerability I had with my children at Christmas... knowing that I couldn't hide from them the twisting of my heart and the periodic tears of my eyes with them again in the house with me, and so "close to the situation". I told them, tearfully, I needed them to know that I really believed I was normal (many other friends my age or older, seemed to know just what I'd describe to them because they had or were experiencing the same) but that I knew in the holiday time at home I couldn't hide from them that some deep questioning and pain was going on in my heart. "I don't know who I am", "I don't know where I'm going, or if God can or if He will use me in any way", and "I don't think I have anything to offer Him or others" were some of the questions and emotions dogging my heart. All this coming from a woman who had just taught a retreat on the "3 W's of Life: Who/whose are you? Where are you? Why are you?", in which I answer each question with truth from the Scriptures. I told them I knew the answers in my head, but that my heart was wretching to again embrace that truth. They looked at me as if to say, "Who took our mom? Where is she in there?", the same thoughts I had heard in my head many times. So uncharacteristic of the "strong, capable widow" whose trust was in God's plan... but oh, so real. I told them that I had tried to encourage myself with the fact that I knew of none other that (though I know you are out there) have the number of life transitions all at once as myself... empty nest, 8 weeks later a daughter calling as she just got engaged (a wonderful event I might add), a son overseas in his second year, and all this without the one I desperately loved to share it with... as a widow. I knew personally many with 2 of those transitions... one with 3... none with all 4! I felt so oddly different at times. I regularly consoled myself with "It was, after all, alot to handle." I again in my life, had turned heavenward and reminded God He had chosen the wrong woman for all of this! Little good it did... except that I was forced again to remember, He had always and will always see me through.

Transitions in life are many. Some easy, some too intense, we think, to survive. Synonyms for transition, I believe can be: adolescence, college, career, marriage, divorce, parenting, empty-nest, marriage of children, old-age, failing health, and death. I'm sure we could all add more to the list. Youth seems to cruise through transition focused on tomorrow's wonderful life. Those in the middle no longer live with the partner of invincibility, but the realism life experience brings. All I'm convinced are blessings. It doesn't include the word easy or fun. Whether one is young or old, whether a change is heart lifting or heart rendering... all transitions require a personal response of some kind from us. That response will determine how "rough the road" is that we travel. A response of entitlement, to deserve better than we've been given, will produce within a discontentment and perhaps anger and bitterness, directed at others and/or God. That is a very rough place to travel, destroying the very enjoyment and peace in life. A response of gratitude toward life's events gives expectations of vistas along the way... in both the valley and mountaintop experiences. The understanding that transitional days bring blessings of growth and change, smooths the road of life with a joy and unexplainable sense of peace and anticipation. But there is an ultimate response from the heart...one which brings with it perhaps the greatest sense of being loved and cared for... one that asks. Asking for transitions so that one is not only made in His image, but along the road of life becomes more indistinguishable from Him, is the bravest, selfless and most satisfying response of all. It is not easy or fun to travel that road. But, I'm convinced it is worth it.

Therefore, you see, this transition I'm making... one day, I'm sure that...

I'd do it all over again!

Welcome 2009....

... but how New Years have changed!

Beyond the need of the Word, I've just ordered a couple of books that I hope will give insight into where this new person God is shaping is going, after I find out who she is! Sounds confusing coming from me... believe me, I know. The one who teaches many women to answer the '3 W's" in life," Whose am I? Where am I? Why am I?'... or where women should go to "fill their emotional tank", or how to welcome and embrace the "refining fire of a wonderful God"! Every time I have taught in the last months, a voice has said, "Listen to your own teaching! It applies to YOU!" The extremes of emotion I've been experiencing the last 6 months, if placed on a graph, might elicit quick decisive action to institutionalize me ( alright, so I exaggerate... maybe...) from those other than the "mid life growth" crowd (I deliberately chose the word growth to try to spin positive about it... :0) ). One thing that has been of comfort is that those friends who are also in "growth", are expressing like things... and today I'm recording some of where I am, though still afraid to expose it, and fully confident there's more to discover. The one difference is that all of my friends with an empty home, have a spouse to go with them, or to hold them up, in this passage... a cord of 3 strands is not easily broken! Yet, I'm old enough to know that relationships are such that this is not always of benefit. And, for some reason, the best plan is for me is to do it alone. It is not the first time I find myself at a place of not liking me, wanting to hide for fear I'll "break" something or someone... because I don't know what is seeping to the top for exposure. But most of my days, I had a loving encourager beside me..I remember an old pastor I heard on a radio back in Hawaii days... " The greatest compliment God can pay us is when He stokes the fire." Again I'm at the place where I lift my heart and beg for no more compliments!

It really does boil down to embracing this passageway as shaping the woman God is creating... a woman that will not or cannot be created without the pain and transition I am asked to weather. I've done it before, with Him. Guess one could call it His painful grace... a grace that won't quit growing His loved... because of the reward of becoming more like Him, even here, no especially here on earth. But what is it about me that it can't be achieved without pain?

Grace... hmm... wonderful, yes... easy life, no...

Some things don't change, like grace...

... the New Years do...

My inbox...

...is full of plane reservations and emails containing plans and times of airplanes touching down in Tulsa, or cars driving to Bartlesville with the most precious cargo of all....

... the kids I love.

Oh, how I love those emails... the Thanksgiving and Christmas gatherings under my roof... and the Blessings God has givien me in children... and their friends.


I give thanks...

Anatomy of the Heart...

When in Respiratory Therapy School I had the privilege of watching open heart surgery. I also saw an autopsy. The hearts in each, obviously, were very different. One was full of life, color and active... the other cold, still and gray. A living heart is truly a sight to behold. It is hard to describe. It is the center of life. The intricacies that make the fiber, 4 chambers and various valves come alive and perform their task 80-100 times per minute for 80 some years on the average... are quite simply, amazing. It is an engineering miracle...a designer's dream... and on top of that, there is some kind of connection between the brain and heart to house emotions...

A "full of life" heart is what the Creator intended for all. One that beats with excitement at many different things... and when poked, bleeds. I've concluded in painful times of life, and believe now, that it is in that bleeding when a heart is pricked, that one really begins to have an understanding of real life. It is bleeding, even in spurts, that makes life so evident on a surgery table ... and in our emotions toward those we love. Indeed, I've concluded that the amount of bleeding done emotionally when under duress or when "poked", is directly proportional to the depth of understanding and love in the "poking" relationship. When my Dad died my grief was unbearable, because of the great depth of love we shared as Father and daughter... my Mom, too. And today, I can't describe for you what bleeding takes place when I think of... the one with which I still desire to share my heart and life. Indeed, the one I am convinced I need to share my heart and life. So, all I can do is remember... how much depth of life, love and living we shared... and be thankful that the bleeding reminds me of the joy shared between us.

And then there is the cold, gray heart. I am not naive enough to ignore the "poking" of hearts who upon remembrance, bleed for what they never had, or can't bleed at all. My heart goes out to them, and it is the desire of my soul to give them a taste of what I've been given. But, hearts that have bled too much are hard to revive. But some do, and those I have seen turn around to fullness of life give me some of the greatest joy on earth... realizing that with God, the Giver of life, even the "poking" can now lead to that joy of life found in relationships. My hope for those who walk this path is to realize there is a bleeding that brings life... and thus, joy with remembrance. No where better depicted is this bleeding to life than at the Cross...


As for me, today my heart bleeds... and it also remembers... and that is a good thing.

Psalm 90: 10-12

As for the days of our life, they contain seventy years,
Or if due to strength, eighty years,
Yet their pride is but labor and sorrow;
For soon it is gone and we fly away.
Who understands the power of Your anger
And Your fury, according to the fear that is due You?
So teach us to number our days,
That we may present to You a heart of wisdom.


Psalm 73:26
My flesh and my heart may fail,
But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

Engaged...

May I present to you...
Becky and Adam, engaged October 14th...

26 Years ago....

... David and I learned we were pregnant a second time. It was a Thanksgiving gift to us. As we had lost our first, we entered this pregnancy with some apprehension, but soon we realized, we were going to be parents in life. It was at that point we began praying for this child's heart to love the Lord early in life, serve Him with their whole heart, and to keep in His training and care one who, of His choosing might be this child's spouse. Months later Becky arrived, and years later Adam has arrived...another Thanksgiving gift! It is with great praise and rejoicing that I look forward to the day I can tell you all I have 3 sons... at the union of Becky and Adam. Little does Becky realize the great joy she brought to us... as a child and now a beautiful, fun-loving godly woman. And little does Adam realize how fun it is for me to know of whom I have lifted up in prayer all these years... and he is everything for which I had hoped and prayed.

It is with a heart of wishing I could share this with her Father...since we knelt in prayer so often together. How I have longed to share this joyful answer to prayer with him. But it is much more sweet than bitter as my daughter has been given a companion for life that loves the Lord... and her... with greatness in heart. What more could a Mom want as she lays her head down to rest at night?

He is faithful... in spite of me.

Becky, I love you sooooo much...

And Adam... I love you already...

It's been 7 years today...

... and my God was as good on the day I buried my dear husband as on the day I married him. His goodness doesn't change.

7 years have passed quickly and yet I sometimes "dread" that these next years might pass slowly in ways. (Though at my age, slow is becoming more of a welcomed word!!!!) But, I know I look back with continued gratefulness for a husband who loved his family passionately, planned for us diligently, and showed us how to live a life and yes, die, devoted to God and family, while providing for us in every way. Yes, David is significant to our family even today, in spite of his absence.

How thankful I am...

Anticipation...

Hurricane Ike has made a huge impression... 600 miles in diameter worth. I've spent many wonderful hours sailing through the mouth of Kemah, eating on the Kemah parkway watching other sailboats sail out to the Galveston Bay with my dear husband and family, or taking my children to canoeing lessons in Dickinson. The pictures of the roads, the restaurants in Kemah... they bring back wonderful memories. And, friends. I've prayed for them all night, anxiously tried to contact them today. So far, Christens made it through a very noisy night, with horizontal rain, though very little. DeGrays are ok, though the garage roof is damaged, and the church has been hit very hard... all doors blown out, roof taken off the Life Center, with all the ensuing damage. Kittles are safe too, and water was inches from their house. Derricks, Rasks, Graves, Carmen, and Weichbrodts (along with many others) I have not heard from.... which brings me to anticipation...

... how I long to hear that all my friends are fine. Calling on their cells and getting no answer brings a certain disappointment to the anticipationn of hearing their voices and knowing they are ok. I anticipate hearing their voices and the sense of relief and joy that brings.

I just want to hear from them

...and then I think...

Do I anticipate hearing my Lord's voice as much? Do I long to have that quick call from Him... and do I have immediate response of relief and joy from hearing His voice? Do I anticipate His coming... watching with great desire...longing to see Him as much as I do my child when he returns from an Asian country after a year at school? I can answer those questions... and I don't like the answer...

Like most, I wait for Him in great anticipation when... I am in need or pain. In that situation I tend to expect His arrival, I long for Him to arrive. But in times of joy or comfort I take for granted His availability at my convenience. I fail to recognize He is as anxious to hear from me as I am to hear from my friends. He longs to meet me when or where ever... as a wonderful Father and friend... and how often I am too busy to take the call... or, God forbid, look at the caller ID and choose not to answer! And many are the reasons why...

So, cultivate in me a heart, O Father, that longs to hear from You and responds to you, as I know I will respond when I hear Dusty, Carrie, and Carmen's voices on the other end of the phone line...

And may I look to Your coming as I much as I look forward to again having a lunch with them...

And I really do love my time with You... help me to prioritize it...

May we all live in anticipation of His call...

To my kids...

To my kids:

Fly. Fly with only one "homing instinct"... the Lord. All else is either immaterial or an idol.

Be careful... ideas can be the enemy's "weapons" to twist the Lord's directions, or the Lord's great gift to you... know Him well enough to know the difference!

Remember... you have an earthly Mother that loves you very much... and wants you living life doing what He needs you doing... no matter how far it takes you...
... and that the love she has for you is "pale compared to your heavenly Father's love'!

Live by the Greatest Commandent... promoting personal responsibility, keeping each other accountable...


...and the reward will be full.

I love you,
Mom

Life... she is a changin'...

(Jonathan's graduation from ACS... Katie, Becky, Mom and the Man of the day!)

Well, here we are in a hotel for a final night's sleep before Katie ascends the local mountain upon which is perched Covenant College. Jon and I help unload her tomorrow and get her moved in. She has responsibilities as the discipleship coordinators team leader of her dorm this year, and her job starts in earnest as soon as she arrives. Part of that outreach starts Friday as she welcomes new students, ie., Freshman, onto campus. That will include her brother! So, on Friday Jon and I will ascend Lookout Mountain and unload his belongs... and that night I will return to my Hampton Inn room... alone!

Wish I could express for you the whole of emotions that goes on with one looking at an empty nest... especially one as "nurturing" in personality as I, but I doubt that even I know the vastness of any upcoming feelings. I have done this 3 times now, and love to see each child become who they are, apart from me... and yet, I miss them so much. But this time no one is left to take the brunt of my "mothering" and provides a very different kind of "empty nesting".

This spring was very hard... and I know that this fall will bring new opportunities to grieve. I know that I will grieve the "loss" of my babies and being needed by them (to some extent), but the loss of my companion David will be central to it all. David and I dreamed of these days together... spending more relaxed time with each other doing whatever we decided to do.... visit the kids, travel, dream, and minister together. And now I find myself facing the loss of those dreams, again, and yet I understand that I have the great privilege of asking God to show me, as a single woman, the dreams He has for me. These next steps are just an adjustment... nothing new to life, and I choose to smile at the adventure. As a matter of fact, I can hardly wait to see what is around this last empty nest...

Besides, do you know how long it has been since I could do things on a daily basis just for ME? 27 years... wonderful ones, yes, but....!!! So, do you know who is going to enjoy being her own boss and sole proprietor of her time? ME! And my plans are to not become committed to many things very quickly. I need time to sit in my home alone and study the Word, think, be quiet, pray and remember... bringing both tears and laughter to my days and nights, I am sure!

"There is a season ... for all things."

And, I am going to truly live it!!

Olymic winners...

The Casselberry family is glued to the broadcasting of the Olympics. It is a given, whether it is Summer or Winter events. We are addicted... no bones about it. The Summer has a special interest for us as the kids swam on the P-66 swim team for years, and under one of the most reputable experts in swimming, even today recognized internationally. However, his attentions at that time, were mainly given to those he thought could be Olympic winners and the rest didn't get the help they needed. As it is, 2 of the swimmers in Becky and Ryan's group under him swam at the Olympic trials this year. Gary and Michael have done very well... but, there was a whole pool full of swimmers that swam with them who never made it to Nationals, let alone Olympic trials. None will ever have the noteriety of having 8 gold medals hanging on their neck gracing the front of Sports Illustrated... check out that Michael Phelps! Or nail the high bar with an extremely difficult routine like our OU Sooner, Jonathan Horton!

And, as we remain glued to the excitement of medals, the sorrow of knocked over hurdles, the off balance falls, my heart has basked in gratefulness. Gratefulness that I don't have to live life in perfect balance, dominating endurance, and perfect form. All of us in the pool of life just won't measure up to Gold Medal performances. I'm not the perfect mom or friend. Further more, my nature is to not do the hard work it takes to pursue the excellence needed in all areas of life. Sure there are a few that gain my unyielding passion, but settling for mediocrity or just good enough seems very acceptable at times in the face of extreme commitment or the pain in reaching my goal. It is for that reason, the lack of performance in life to strive in all things to do what is right, where deep gratefulness resides. Gratefulness to God that it is not my performance or works that makes me His child. When life is on a high balance beam and I loose balance, it is not me on whom I depend. When I can't seem to go on anymore and feel the waters closing in, unable to get enough breath, it is He who gives me enough stamina to take one more stroke or dive. He is a coach that hasn't ignored me in the pool of life because I'm not a "champion". No, because of the shed blood, death and resurrection of the perfect One, you and I are seen as Champions in all things, if we have believed and embraced this truth about his sacrifice. Indeed, it is His Son, who helps me finish the race...and the perfect One sees me as His child and promises me rewards and a place with Him... a place dressed in gold, with singing of praises instead of a national anthem!

Yes, the Olympics are a huge part of the Casselberry's lives this week. But, may the Olympics of heaven be the daily passion of our hearts, the very balance of our lives. May we drink deeply of the gratefulness of challenge and in the realization that there is a coach that is perfect in our training. Living with Him eternally is the real gold medal.

It's warm, windy and unpredictable...

... ahh, who says that we can't see God? In the power and the warmth of spring, and flowers that bloom, He gives evidence through His creation of who He is.

... in warmth, in wind, in rain, and severe weather... there is one that causes flowers to bloom, the sun to rise and set, and men to lean on God.

...tonight 9 are dead 80 miles from here due to tornadoes. They are still searching for more to help, or count.
May they find help in His incredible leading and care, and still find flowers that are blooming...evidence of His care in the midst of their chaos and helplessness. May I be diligent to pray for them....

May we always know Him, and know Him well.

Hugs to you all...