I don't have a green thumb, so every bit of garden produce we get is grown with great investment. Last year we only got raided in late September, and it was a doe with two babies, so I just let her eat what was left of the tomatoes and snow peas. This year, we have harvested three snow peas. It eats the snow pea blossoms and keeps the tops of the plants regularly mowed so they've only grown four inches tall. I kept thinking it would move on since we haven't had this happen before, but it's still here, and I'm still slow to pick up on some things!
I'm so aggravated about this deer! I've only seen deer around a couple of times, one buck and one doe, each at different times and not together, so I don't know which one it is. Maybe they've even since joined forces... (For simplicity's sake, I'll just assume it's the doe, so hereafter it'll be referred to as she/her.) We put some fencing on top of the peas and beans (whose blossoms she's trimming as well), and I scattered the clippings from Kev's haircut on the portions sticking out. The next day we had gusting winds, so the hair promptly blew away. I am *this* close to staying up tonight to rush her with pots and pans!
So far, we've gotten a decent bean harvest, but as summer slides into autumn, she'll have to start eating what's available instead of making dessert of the succulent tops and blossoms of my poor snow peas. That means the tomatoes and cantaloupes are in jeopardy. Come to think of it, she topped my sedum last night too. Seriously, I've never wanted to punch an animal in the face like I do right now. Well, I want someone to anyway.
Not sure what I'm going to do. Don't want to spend a lot on fencing since we're going to redo the whole garden fence situation next year. I can't keep cutting Kev's hair. Jylle won't let me cut hers. I'm not talented enough to cut my own. Dog hair doesn't work.
GOOGLE--what was I thinking?!--somebody out there must have an answer!
It's when I've done or said something with the intent of being encouraging or uplifting that I realize I have subconscious expectations when the thing remains unacknowledged. I was raised to believe that "thank you" was in order after someone did or said something with kind intent. Most of the time this ritual is satisfied to the extent that I only experience a lack of it on occasion. It occurs at least once/month on my big trip to town as I deal with the general public, and even rarely with friends. I have a higher standard for my closest friends and my family, and that's a problem.
I feel all good about something after I've done it, like that person who can't wait for you to open the present because you're just going like it so much! There's that eagerness, that anticipation of something along the lines of "Wow, I really like it--thank you!" If I've put effort into a project, even a little one, it seems like an abortion of sorts when it's met with a "Thank you for that," and the subject moves on immediately.
That's when I have to deal with the Committee as we caucus in order to find out what went wrong. That is usually when I come back to I expected something different, something better, something more. Who was I really doing this for then? R-i-g-h-t...... I gave a gift with strings attached... or at least one anyway. Whose heart was blessed by the kindness of your intentions? My Father's... and His pleasure is the only thing I need to care about. Freely you have received, freely give.* The burden of unvoiced expectation, like a noose, is severed, as I realize my sin, and I release you from it with my most sincere apologies.
Yes, it would have been nice to know if it meant something to you, but the promptings of my motivation were divine, and you and I are only players in this larger lesson I would not have relearned if you had given me what I expected. See, I often forget that the main character in this story is not me, because most of the time it feels like it is me. The whole world tells me it is. I am reminded once again of that magnificent Protagonist, and I am humbled to the core.
Thank You for letting me play, Daddy. It means everything to me. You mean everything to me. Thank You.
Got an email from Brett yesterday asking, "Can you Skype us about 2 p.m. your time?" My first thought was vocalized by Jylle, "Us...?" I replied that it probably wouldn't be a problem when suddenly the thought hit me--he's not going to tell us they're engaged, right?! I told him I don't like bombs...
For some weird reason, Skype was no longer on my computer, so I had to download and install it again. (I am so getting a Mac next time.) To my relief, it was a simple Skype call, a time to meet and introduce and get to talk for the first time.
Kev's phone kept ringing, so he only got to be in on it a few minutes here and there, but Jylle and I got to enjoy the whole thing. She laughs easily (which Jylle absolutely loved, esp the parts where Lydia laughed because of her), and she's simply adorable, very easy to like. I got to ask all the questions that came to mind, and we got to see the two of them together, having fun, joking, laughing, enjoying being young and in love (or least large infatuation =). It was a great introduction, and we were grateful for the time they took. They seemed to have a pretty good time too, so I believe a good time was had by all (...or however that antiquated saying goes).
Lord, please keep them pure and honest. Let the core of their relationship ever be anchored in Your love as they seek Your heart diligently. Lead them firmly by the hand through this time, whatever it may hold. Grant them wisdom, ground them in Love, and avail Your sweet joy to them. That's my prayer for all of them. XO
Glenice and I visited Jamara yesterday. She had her second knee replacement, so now she has two titanium hips and two chrome knees. Her right foot has been fused, but the left still needs to be done. Until now, it's all been her lower body, but she got the news before this last surgery that she'll have to have her right shoulder replaced too. She can't lift her arm beyond horizontal...
Her attitude is incredible. She is vigorously optimistic, enthusiastically joyful, and disturbingly wise for her 23 years. She's like my own little Dalai Lama--with a sprinkling of Kelly Pickler for color. Her state of mind is poised on the Mercy she sees in experiencing the ravages of this Adult Stills. While onlookers' mouths drop open at what she's encountered in the last three years, emotionally as well as physically, she speaks at length of God's kindness, grace, protection, and provision and how she is a better person for going through this. It is at once profoundly inspirational and convicting.
Wish I'd taken a picture of her. She straightened her hair, makeup beautifully done as usual, and she was perfectly lean in her black sweats. She is an unstoppable presence in any room. I love this girl like she came out of my own body, and it's bitterly piercing to imagine what it would mean if this disease continues to evade remission and runs out of cartilage to attack, starting in on her organs. I can't let myself go there. I must follow her sweet example and focus on Mercy.
So Ryan has a girlfriend. Jylle is fairly regularly crushing on someone different like twice a year. Brett calls us every week on Sunday, and this time he had something very intentional to tell us. Yeah, her name is Lydia. "You could say 'girlfriend'."
I had so many questions. He answered them all, but I found that my questions grew exponentially once we got off the phone. I've met Ryan's Larissa. I know all the guys Jylle has crushed on. I. Don't. Know. This. Girl. At. All.
My kids appear to be a little different as far as romantic relationships are concerned. The boys never had a girlfriend in high school. They're both now in their very first "real" relationship. I thank God that their Walk is sure and solid. That they care very much about the interior landscape of this other person, both as she came to them and how they must take care of it as men of God. There's a song called "A Sacred Moment" by Daniel Kirkley that often comes to mind when I think of my boys now. He sings of how this is a very special time, but that it may come to be that she will become someone else's wife, so for now, he wants this to be a sacred moment in her life. My take is: Let there be no scars or ugliness, but only a putting the best foot forward, putting her best before his own.
Maybe because it took so long for one of them to have a girlfriend, it was a surprise when it finally happened. That 'first' was in March. Five months later, we encounter the second 'first.' It was at once another surprise but also a very joyful thing for me. Brett sounded so happy, so willing to be forthcoming. I only wanted to know more, to dig into knowing this person who's making my son smile so much that I could sense it over the phone.
It's a really interesting time for me, something that a lot of moms my age have already experienced. But I wouldn't trade having to wait for anything. This seems just right. It's kind of like delayed gratification--seems a whole lot better for having it come later. And I'm grateful.
Ryan will go back to school this weekend. I can't believe his whole summer has gone. Looking back, it doesn't seem like there was even one day when I wished we were doing something else. All the days that he slept in and all the time he spent playing guitar or being on the computer, I was glad he was able to. I simply like that he's in the house. I suppose that once he's lived out of the house longer than he's lived in it, the feeling that this is the way it's supposed to be will diminish. Judging from the eagerness in both sets of our parents to see us and have us stay with them, I don't think it ever goes away completely.
Knowing that he's looking forward to getting back and seeing his best friends is worth a lot to my heart. Knowing that his classes are only getting more difficult is a little hard, but I know he can do it. I suppose I'll probably cry again, before and after he leaves, but knowing that's a natural and healthy thing makes it not as dread-full as it's been in the past. One last, good cry pretty much wraps it up until the next time. I just hope he keeps calling at least once/week because that makes me happy. I love you, Ryrie. XO
Do you know how much damage can be done when you expect to be the Center of someone's universe? Do you realize how complicated you make it when your level of expectation exceeds reason? Where is this Grace you preach...? Where is this Love you speak of...?
You are so young. But you have experienced a great deal: Depth. Life. Miracles. Grief. Sorrow. Confusion. Complication. Tenderness. Courage. I don't consider that lightly. But this is hard.
This seems to be three steps forward, three steps back. This no longer seems worth it to me. Maybe it's a good thing I'm not much in the scheme of things because I would no doubt make this situation worse than it already is. I thought I knew your heart. Obviously I don't. I got caught presuming.
When Mary's heart was pierced through, did anyone remember the prophecy? Did she even, until the midst of it? To see your child suffer is a grief no parent can bear in a lovely way. It stinks. It's a mountain of misery, and more often than not, this mother's knee jerk reaction is to slap at the hornet rather than to be still and know that He is God, at work, alive, revealing...
After
Psalm 103:11-12 was written on the note left on the counter, “For as the heavens are high above the earth, so great are His mercy and loving-kindness toward those who reverently and worshipfully fear Him. As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us.”
I needed a fresh reminder of my own sin and level of unreasonable expectation. If I find that I am unwilling to forgive, if I have uttered the words, “How could you…” then I need the tender revelation once gain of which world I belong to. The rules and tools of that other world have no function or place , like using a tennis ball to build a house, or a sock to magnify. The rules of the Kingdom, of the Overcoming Life, are the tools of the Redeemed—humbled at being saved, forgiven, and given the scandalous privilege of walking as Daughter or Son, that to walk in any other manner than that of Abiding is not an option.
Where is this Grace I preach if it does not begin with me? Where is this Love I speak of if it isn’t seen immediately in my own life? I have been forgiven of far worse, and I drop the stones I would hurl in a red hot hurry as I acknowledge that my board is greater than your sliver. I wish you sweetness and roses as you are delivered from your self in this walk as we all will be. XO
Psalm 32:6-8 For this forgiveness let everyone who is godly pray—pray to You in a time when You may be found; surely when the great waters of trial overflow, they shall not reach the spirit in him. You are a hiding place for me; You, Lord, preserve me from trouble, You surround me with songs and shouts of deliverance. Selah. I the Lord will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with My eye upon you.
Shock rocked the Valley as news of Georgie McCanna's sudden death spread literally like wildfire. Phone and various local news chains lit up, as did text messages, the disturbing information branching out to people exponentially.
I still don't have all the facts, just that she was at the pool on Monday morning, July 12, when she suffered a massive heart attack, which killed her almost instantly. No rescue attempt made any difference; she didn't even have time to say one last thing. She was gone, just like that.
I think about her at least 20 times a day. I have so many questions, so many things I would've liked to have told her. She was one of those people who really listened when you spoke. She made you glad you ran into her and grateful that she was there. She was just one of those rare people who are really easy to love.
Georgie was only barely 50. She had no previous indications of a heart problem and in fact, exercised vigorously and faithfully. She was one of the creators of the exercise group at the middle school, and I often saw her strapping on her sneakers after school was over, ready to climb stairs and walk the halls with friends and co-workers.
I keep thinking of how one day her husband was probably thinking of where they might go to enjoy some of this summer break, and the next day, he's picking out his wife's casket. It's insane. I cannot wrap my little mind around it. It's just not the way it's supposed to be. It's just all too unreal.
Her service was as lovely and as loving as one could be. It was at the Catholic church, and I'd never been there before. We got there pretty early because we knew there'd be standing room only by start time. I picked one of the back pews, but Kev suggested the opposite side, and it wasn't until afterward that he told me it was because we would've been sitting right in front of the casket, something he deems just a little uncomfortable.
Two of her closest friends stood up together to read tributes and to tell a little about her. After that, her husband and youngest son got up to tell us their own. Michael graduated with my Brett, and he has a great sense of humor. He made everyone laugh with his recounting of how Georgie kept guessing "Sheep herder!" in one round of Pictionary, no matter how he tried to get her to shorten it. "It's shepherd, Mom! Shepherd!" From then on, any time you didn't know what the answer was, you'd just say, "Sheep herder!" Craig assured everyone that he loved his life with Georgie, and that while his world has come to a complete stop right now, he would go on again without her. There wasn't a dry eye in the room, and people cried freely and without embarrassment. This was a soul whose spirit was so sweet and thoroughly kind that it would be a shame to her memory to withhold honor that she would have so freely expressed.
Death is our own personal, final enemy. But for those of us who are in Christ, even Death has been ultimately silenced and rendered impotent. It is the gateway to real Life where it will not at all exist except perhaps as some distant reminder of having been vanquished by the One Who gave everything, so that we might inherit His All and live forever inside Love, Joy, and Peace.
So, Georgie, I will miss you. Everyone who ever knew you will miss you. The world is a less joyful place without you in it, and I'm praying for the people who loved you and whose hearts are in pieces. I know you are knowing Joy now, so enjoy that Life...
We said our goodbyes to you today. You would've hated being the center of attention, but your friends and family did a fabulous job of holding it together well enough to give honor to your life and acknowledge before the world how much they love and miss you.
Little Janie was beautiful. Craig was strong. Michael was hilarious. You would've loved that.
No one can believe it. It's all ridiculously horrible. How can a light so blazingly bright be gone now?! How does the earth keep turning, mail get delivered, the sun keep shining? How do the people who love you find a new normal without you when you were their North Star?
You were a huge part of why JMS is such a great place to work. The fingerprints of your heart work were everywhere. You made me laugh. You made me feel safe. And welcome. And cared about. There was nothing you weren’t there to help me with. You made me brave when I had to face the lunch lady about the food I'd used by mistake. You never made me feel dumb when time and again I'd forget to unlock the girls' locker room. Your smile and encouraging words were always exactly what I needed to go on and do the next thing right.
Your smile lit up a room. Your humility and strength were quiet, but so very sure. You were a driving force behind so many others' accomplishments, but no one outside might ever realize that. You were certainly the wind beneath so very many wings. So many beautiful facets to miss about you...
There's a hole the size of a galaxy here now. While we treasure knowing that we'll see you again someday, it's all the days in between now and then that will make the rest of this life here seem terribly long. But Brenda was right--the greater tragedy would've been to have never known you. You are a princess, as beautiful inside as out, with a kindness, integrity, and humility that endeared you to anyone who spent any time with you at all.
I thank the Lord for your life. I know He'll hold you close and treasure you in this last Dance. See you soon… XO
It's taken more than a week for my voice to get back to near normal. The evening headaches and retching have been hard to get a handle on, and I can't tell where my activity limit is, so I'm still trying to feel that one out. I wake with three specific symptoms, live out the day doing whatever, and feel around rather blindly around evening time looking for hand holds. Going to bed at 9:00 seems to be a good idea so far.
A nurse friend asks occasionally, "So how's your lung cancer?" She always wants me to get this cough checked into because the rate of lung cancer cases is spiking. I always know though, that it's not lung cancer. It's just something that sticks around a long time, but eventually always goes away. Like a bad meal.
I actually had fun at Hoopfest yesterday! Ryan and I didn't get there until about noon, and we spent half an hour just looking for a parking spot. It didn't look good when we saw all kinds of people heading toward the park blocks and blocks north of it. We finally found something about 6 blocks away, and a guy pulled in behind us right when we got there. I made fruit kabobs and brought lots of ice water, and we took turns carrying the cooler to lighten the burden.
The first game we saw was Zeb's. We hefted ourselves over the stone wall, and I felt bad crushing the day lilies. No one around us seemed to care, and one guy and I even laughed about how "anything goes 'cause it's Hoopfest!" Still felt bad being a crusher though. Kev and Dave H were camped out under a huge tree, two oldie guys each with a camping chair and a book in complete surround-shade.
Kev's first game happened so fast that he didn't have time to re-injure his bad ankle. The crushing took all of ten minutes, and it was soundly over. The second game took a little longer, but only after Dave R was steam rolled by an opponent disguised as a wall. His jaw ended up misaligned, but even more damage was inflicted upon his sense of manhood. "Huh!" Take that, mean man!
Not wanting to see our guys further tossed about like rag dolls, Barb and I took a short jaunt into Nordstrom where she treated Ryan to a peach smoothie while he waited for us with his book. I tried on a scarf and matching hat in vivid fuchsia. Would've bought both of them, but I had just given my spare $300 to a homeless waif. Darn.
Ryan stayed at the park with Zeb, and I took off for home. Realizing that I had no one waiting for me and really no reason to zip straight home, I took a few detours, which eventually landed me some much-needed grocery items as well as a dandy little bag of treasures from Bath and Body Works for 75 percent off! I was extremely pleased with my bargains and agreed with myself to go home now. But only after one last stop for a frozen pizza and ice cream.
I don't have a green thumb, so every bit of garden produce we get is grown with great investment. Last year we only got raided in late September, and it was a doe with two babies, so I just let her eat what was left of the tomatoes and snow peas. This year, we have harvested three snow peas. It eats the snow pea blossoms and keeps the tops of the plants regularly mowed so they've only grown four inches tall. I kept thinking it would move on since we haven't had this happen before, but it's still here, and I'm still slow to pick up on some things!
have to start eating what's available instead of making dessert of the succulent tops and blossoms of my poor snow peas. That means the tomatoes and cantaloupes are in jeopardy. Come to think of it, she topped my sedum last night too. Seriously, I've never wanted to punch an animal in the face like I do right now. Well, I want someone to anyway.
Stumble It!
