Meditative Ramblings

Sitting here on a Monday morning, noting the date: July 20, 2009, I'm struck by my relationship to time, my feelings about time. Each flip of the calendar can be a moment of wonder - about the future. What is in store for me this year, this decade?

Time is lived, is passed, is gone, is remembered, is part of who I am. Never can a moment be repeated, or done over, or changed.

Will there be time in eternity? Time is marked by change, so how will this be handled? You are full of mystery and wonder; it will be a wonderful thing to experience.

Jesus, You have given me a time. It is for a certain length. You picked when I would be born and when I will mortally die. "My times are in Your hand." Thank you for the time You have given me. Some people's lives are much shorter than mine has been. Why have You gifted me with almost 56 years of time, while my friend, Cathy, was given 49? What is Your will and plan for all the minutes You are giving me? Help me to use the time for good.

Time can be wasted, endured, resented, ignored, spent, forgotten, unappreciated. And time can be cherished, valued, filled with good things, enjoyed, appreciated, planned for, learned from.

You are bigger than time. You say You are the Alpha and the Omega: the Beginning and the End. All that is, is sandwiched inside of You. Nothing can exist before You or after You. Yet You had no beginning and no end. This is so awe-full, so marvelous, amazing, incomprehensible, beyond human reasoning or understanding.

My God, there is none like You.

The Ultimate Insult

Family doctors can be wonderful things. We have a pretty good one. He is personable, caring, and attentive. I've always liked him. But I have a gripe with him of late. What's my gripe? His outlook on my present status. You see, I went in for my regular check up and he started asking questions about woman things - of the monthly sort. Well, it's interesting you should ask that, I says. Things are slowing down a bit. I don't mind a bit, you know? (This is a good thing in my mind.) But then his response: "Your body is shutting down" My body is shutting down? My body . . . my body . . . is . . . what? shutting down? How can you say that to me? What medical school did you attend anyway? I always thought so highly of you, but now . . . well . . . I'm not so sure. My body is shutting down. Is it possible to re-boot? And while you're at it, could someone fix the thermostat in here? Who on earth keeps turning up the heat everywhere I go?

Is it smart to take your older sister's advice?

Sister Jacquie sent an email recently about keeping your car's remote controls near you as you sleep, in case you hear suspicious sounds outside. You can push 'alarm' and the "criminal" will run. I read her email, thought that's probably helpful for people in the inner city - and then forgot it. Until . . .

. . . last night. I couldn't sleep (complications of menopause) at 3 am so I went downstairs to read. While sitting there I heard a noise that sounded like my car (you know, it's kind of like how you can recognize your child's voice from other children). Hmmm. I got my remote key controls and looked out the front window from my darkened room. My car and another car were parked along the street and there was a man out there! Apparently he was checking all the cars to see if they were locked. He had found mine locked and moved on to the next car, I conjectured. I'll show him! I pushed the alarm (in the dark). Nothing happened. Again. Darn, wrong button. I found it. BEEP BEEP BEEP! Ha ha, I'll scare him off! Just then he opened the door of the second car, got in (!) and drove away in a hurry. oh . . . ha . . . nervous laugh . . . it was his car.

Oh well. He'll just think it was a quirk (am I a quirk?).

I went back to reading. This is NOT the end of the story. Remember how I had trouble finding the alarm button in the dark? I actually did push a button. When I raised the shades in my bedroom this morning and looked out at my car, much to my surprise I saw the trunk lid open. Yes, it had been opened by me and had been open all morning. What's worse, it rained ALL last night. So much for helpful emails from older and wiser sisters!

A "Maternal" Test I Could Forgo

You know you've reached true motherhood when your little baby can throw up on you and you don't bat an eye. I've reached that place. Again. It's been awhile (thankfully) since Ashley, let alone Patrick or Colin, has thrown up on me. But, nevertheless, it has happened again. The planets were all aligned for this. Said "baby" (Kip), snuck into Ashley's room and consumed some "forbidden fruit" (chocolate chip cookies). That's one planet. Add to the mix, me, exercising on the floor. That's another planet. And finally, bring in a crazy dog who decided to lay on my rising and falling stomach as I did back lifts (third planet). It was just so darn cute, you know? My stomach would rise up like a wave and up would go Kip, all the while chewing her rawhide toy. Look Ashley! Isn't this cute? Barf. Eeeewwooooo! Right on my neck pours a mocha shake, smelling of chocolate. Like I said, all the planets were aligned.

New Hampshire

Home from New Hampshire. Have you been there? Think of north woods Wisconsin - maybe hillier. This is the ugly time of year for those states that experience 4 seasons - you know, mud, brown trees and grass, some lingering snow. Even so, I could tell it is a beautiful state. I'd love to see it in October when the leaves change - I bet it's stunning.

Colin and I flew to Boston last Friday, got our rental car and headed north on I-93. We landed during rush hour. Why is it called rush hour? You can do nothing even close to rushing! We had Jeff's handy GPS with us so our "lady friend" directed us all the way. After about two hours on the road, we arrived in Henniker, NH. Well, almost. The hotel I found online was south of town and turned out to be a ski lodge, right under a ski hill. I was hoping I had made a mistake - you know, had arrived at the wrong hotel? Alas, they had our name. Okay, we'll deal with it - it was clean enough. Definitely not 5 star, 4 star, or 3 star - well, maybe 3 star. We were only going to be there two nights - we could take it. Later that night, I had my doubts. I awoke in the middle of the night and heard what sounded like a mouse. Hmmm. Did I hear right? It sounds like it's coming from near the bathroom and right about now I could use a potty break. I laid still, listening. Scratch, scratch. That's a mouse, I know it. Should I try to check out at this hour? Or in the morning maybe? Geesh, I get mice in my house - shouldn't I be understanding of them, in this remote, woodsy ski lodge? Nah. They should do a better job than me! After all, I'm paying for a mouse-free bed!

Well, I've got to go potty. Out of bed, I slowly walk toward the restroom and turn on a light. No mouse outside the bathroom. Hmmm. I peer inside and look in every crook and cranny. No mouse here. Good. I do my business and head back to bed. After a few seconds I hear the sound again. Where IS that critter?!! As I moved my feet under my sheets ever so slightly, I realize what's happening. My feet sound like a mouse scratching - and the scratching I heard before was Colin's feet, moving under his sheets! The mouse was my dear son! Whew! Now I feel better.

This reminds me of the time I almost got up to answer the call of one of my young sons in the middle of the night. I heard one of them say, "mom . . . mom?" It turned out to be Jeff's nose. He was squeaking and it sounded like "mom!"

The next day we visited a Christian residential program called, His Mansion. It is a wonderful place with wonderful staff and residents. We ate lunch with them in their communal dining room (think lumberjack dining room with a fireplace). Afterward, Fritz gave us a tour. We saw the barn (cats, cows, pigs, chickens), the maintenance shop, woodworking shop, log piles, a map of the gardens, dorms, chapel, offices, etc. It is located on an old 1700's farm and some of the buildings are that old. You should see one of their stone fireplaces. It towered over Colin by about 3 or four feet and receded two levels into the wall. The outer level had stone seats on the side, where you could sit to warm by the fire. The opening was an arch that rose high over our heads. It was stunning.

After the tour, we met with Fritz in his office. We have some info to get to him and then, of course, Colin needs to decide if he wants to go there. At this point, every word out of his mouth has been super positive. He likes all the staff and all the residents. He feels accepted by them and can tell they are nice guys who did some bad things - but are now getting their lives together. Some are there for other types of reasons. Apparently many of the girls had experienced being raped and are dealing with the trauma of that. We left after our interview and came back the next morning for their church service. Have any of you ever heard of Plymouth Brethren? That's more or less what they are. Fritz compared it to Baptist. A cool thing about their church service is they have a 10 minute silence period, where you are to sit quietly and meditate on scripture or pray. After that, they have a short time they call "The Priesthood of the Believer". This is when anyone can share a scripture, or a testimony of what God is saying or doing in their lives. It's pretty cool.

After church we drove back to Boston, hopped our plane and got home around 9 pm.

Colin is unsure he wants to endure the cold winters working outside. That IS something to think about. We're praying for God's will. Thanks for any prayers you offer up for us.

Being Blogless

I have nothing to write. I thought I better get on here and try to come up with something before I forget how to blog. It's sort of ironic that in years past, when I think I would have had much to write on a blog, it hadn't yet been invented. Now, it's here, I have a blog, and I have nothing to write! You see, my mind is in a sort of a brain-freeze mode. It's like I've fallen on my head and can't get up! Has anyone else ever had this experience? You know, life can be just a bit too painful to be able to function normally. All is not hopeless though as I can still laugh and joke around a bit. Send me your jokes please! In fact, I'll tell you one I heard recently. Stop me if you've heard this one.

A very shy man was smitten by a young woman. Because he was so shy he could not bring himself to tell her his true feelings, even though it seemed she liked him also. He decided to send her an anonymous love letter every day in the mail. Every day he wrote loving, devoted, passionate letters to her, expressing his true feelings without reserve. After a year, he decided he felt brave enough to speak to her, telling her his feelings. When he arrived at her home, he was flabbergasted to discover she had gotten married! And her husband? He was the postman.

I'm sorry Kippie!

Our cute little bundle of fur is not, at this point in time, a cute little bundle of fur. Kippie has naughty owners who didn't brush her often enough. The result was some matting here and there. The only remedy was for the groomer to cut her hair very short all over. She is ugly now! Yep. We love her, but ugly she is. And besides homely, she is cold. She shivers quite often. We put a dog sweater on her sometimes during the day, and when out for a walk, she has her very own puffy jacket. Now she looks like a bruiser. We just aren't coordinating things quite right with this little girl. We gave her a boy's name and clothed her with a coat that makes her look like a hoodlum from West Side Story. Some day our old Kip will be back. I'M SORRY KIP!!!!!

A Lucille Ball Moment

Okay. This is how it all went down.

Jeff came home early on the train to find a flat tire. Tire wheel was rusted on to whatever it sits on. Jeff calls wife: "Will you please pick me up at Duke and Lee's (a nearby service station), drop me at my doctor's appointment, and then go back to Duke and Lee's?" Sure honey! Out the door with Kip and no lipstick. In fact, I look pretty rough. Drop off husband at Doctor's and I MUST, MUST stop home for lipstick. I don't want to scare Duke, or Lee for that matter. Back at home, with lipstick on plus a bit of make up, I put on my glasses. Rather, I try to. SNAP! The left arm broke. Oh great. My glasses are flimsy wiry things that will not sit properly on anyone's nose without both limbs in place. Get out the scotch tape. Leave dog and drive to Duke and Lee's with glasses (and scotch tape) sitting at an angle. Mmmm. I'm feeling a bit dizzy. Get to station. He needs to know where van is parked. Okay. Back into car to drive over to train depot to find van and write down plate number for Duke (or is it Lee?). Drive back to station, glasses floating around my face. Ugh, I feel sick. Leave info. Try to drive to optician. Get half-way there and notice the low-gas light is on. I'm almost on empty. Still holding glasses to my face. Turn around to go back to station for gas. Duke doesn't sell gas anymore, just does service. Pull out to go elsewhere. I'm going to throw up. Find gas station, me sitting on cement ledge as car fills up, holding my stomach. Jeff calls, he's done already. Okay, I'll come get you. Drive like a drunken sailor to doctor's office, still holding my glasses in place. Groan. I feel horrible. Pull into parking lot and somehow hit my glasses with left arm. Glasses fly across the car into never never land. Cautiously creep through parking lot half blind, trying not to kill anyone. There's Jeff outside waiting for me. At least I think it's Jeff. Not sure on that one. It is. I pull up, drag myself out of the car, hand him the keys and say with a green face, "here, you drive!"

Somehow we got everything taken care of and me to the optician where they had the exact temporary arm I needed for my glasses. And I never did throw up. The moral of the story? Beats me. I just wanted you to share in it.

Gran Torino

Jeff and I went to the 4:05 showing of Gran Torino yesterday. I had heard, although there is alot of cussing, the story itself is very good. Clint Eastwood produced, directed and stars in it so you can guess the rating: R. The R was most likely for language and some moments when a girl was being harassed by a gang - they were making crude gestures. But - no nudity, no sex. Just the language. The language is there because it's how the characters really talk, it's part of who the person is - it's not gratuitous cussing. Now on to the movie.

So as not to give too much away I'll say this about it: it is a heart-warming story of an old, racist, beer-drinking, recent widower whose neighborhood is being overrun by Hmong's and blacks. Coming out of WWII, he has no respect at all for any Asian, and is not reluctant to share his prejudices. The movie takes you through events where he ends up protecting the very people he can't stand, the Hmongs. What is so refreshing to me is they show a Christian (Catholic Priest) as a noble, strong, good person (not a wimp or liberal), and they show immigrants as real people with some of them being good and some being evil (just like it is with Caucasians). My few comments cannot communicate how good it really is. All I can say is, go - and take Kleenex.

Football!

I watched a football game tonight. Any of you who know me know I am not in to football, never have been. But tonight, even though Jeff is out of town and I had no reason to sit down and watch the Superbowl, I did just that. And am I glad I did. It was a fantastic game, wasn't it? I admit I was routing for Arizona so was sad at the final outcome. They both played a tough game and made it very exciting for even a rookie watcher like me. Congrats to the Pittsburg Steelers.

Now That We Have A Dog . . .

Now that we have a dog . . .

. . . Our snowy backyard can take on the color of white with yellow polka dots - with a few chocolate chips thrown in for good measure.

. . . We no longer can run around the "circle" from our family room, living room, dining room, kitchen, and back to family room. Road blocks abound - not because our little "someone" goes potty anymore. No, thank Heaven, that's in the past. But she still persists in this one thing: she likes to chew. What kind of things does she chew? Easy - anything of value (or stinky).

. . . I have a shadow -- and I love it.

. . . We have a "protector" from nasty squirrels, foreign dogs, and Pepper (the bird in our kitchen.) Don't expect any special protection from people though - she loves anything on two legs without feathers.

. . . Someone is ALWAYS happy to see me come in the door.

No one likes a poor loser, Meridee

What is it about games? You know, the pleasure of winning one? And how about the feeling you get when you lose? Do you like being on both ends equally? Honestly. I love games - table games, especially, but there is a place in my heart I've noticed in the last year that I don't like when it comes to losing games. Apparently I have taken an unhealthy pleasure (read: pride) in winning board games on a regular basis. Lately though, I haven't been winning that much. In fact, I'm losing alot. What's going on? Am I brain dead from being a housewife? Time to update my resume.

Seriously though, I have this very ugly thing going on inside of me. If I lose too many times, there is an uncomfortableness that starts creeping up the inside of my gut. Almost a churning. I don't want to lose! I want to win! I can't lose! I've GOT to win. Ahhhhhhhh! Good grief! I know, I know. I shouldn't take it so seriously. It's just a game. I've got to be humble enough to lose. I know all that. I'm just being honest here. It ain't pretty is it?

Marley and Me

Jeff and I tried to see Valkyrie the other night but all the seats were taken. So instead of a WWII action film (I assume), we went to Marley and Me. I tell you, after having a little dog-friend of our own, this movie punched smack in the middle of our emotional buttons! It was a very enjoyable view of a ordinary married couple, with all their ups and downs - who nevertheless stay married. An old college friend of the husband pops in once in awhile. You see the contrast between this man, who lives for pleasure, going from one girl to the next, sacrificing relationship in the process, and the married couple, who have true relationship with each other and their kids. Theirs is at the price of dirty diapers, hard-to-get-a-shower-in motherhood, marital friction, and career changes. As they live their lives, Marley, a true puppy who loves to destroy, accompanies them through the years. He gives them unconditional love, but there is a sacrifice in having a relationship with Marley too, such as destroyed household items. We see relationship is worth the sacrifice. It was a good movie.

Parental warning: there are some scenes where you know the wife is nude and they're about to be intimate. I think the producers didn't need to handle it the way they did - it was much too "erotic" for a family movie. But nevertheless, it's worth seeing for two reasons: the much too rare portrayal of 1) a woman choosing to stay home and not look like a dummy in the process, and 2) a married couple who is committed and a dad who is not a dooffus (?)(spell-check didn't help me on this one).

Should I rent more storage space?

A man in the crowd spoke up and asked Jesus to tell his brother to divide the family inheritance with him. Jesus refused. He asked the man who had appointed Him (Jesus)in the role of judge or arbitrator over him? Then Jesus got down to brass tacks. He told the crowd (and the man) to be on guard against every form of greed because:

"not even when one has an abundance does his life consist of his possessions."

Our life is not made up of the things we own - not our wealth, not our homes, cars, furniture, clothes. These things do not constitute a good life. They are not the indicators of a meaningful existence.

He then told a parable to teach the importance of being rich toward God and the danger of focusing only on earthly treasures. The parable told of a wealthy man who had so much he decided to build more storage space. His wealth made him feel secure and set for life, with no worries. His philosophy at that time was "take your ease, eat, drink and be merry." Translation? "Relax! Go on a vacation and throw some parties." But God said to the man in the parable, "You fool! This very night your soul is required of you, and now who will own what you have prepared?" (verses 12-20)

What's the lesson for me?

While on earth, the wise person prepares his soul for eternity. If I only focus on gathering earthly comforts, I am being foolish. I cannot take my earthly possessions with me into eternity - and owning alot does nothing to prepare my soul. The way to prepare my soul is to care about what God cares about. What does God care about? For starters, He cares about the suffering of people. Are they starving? Are they without clothes to protect their bodies? Are they depressed and broken? And the biggie is this: do they have eternal life? Do I care about these same things? If not, I am not rich toward God (I am not valuing what God values).

This is a good thing to remember and ponder, especially at this time of the year when we will be on the receiving end of many wonderful earthly possessions. Jesus, help me hold my earthly possessions with a relaxed grip - always willing to give them up if the need arises.

Luke 12:13-21

Over the meadow - yes!

We made it! Sister Patsy kindly drove out of her way to pick me up for the long drive to mid-Iowa. We both agree that having someone along makes the hours fly by. After starting mid-morning, for her (lunchtime for me), we had dry roads most of the way there. Coming back on Sunday was fairly safe too but we were aware we had done our driving on the "good" days. Apparently Saturday (the one day we didn't drive) other cars had some horrendous experiences. We saw at least 4 cars along the interstate that were completely upside down. In addition, many more cars and semis were stranded in the snow, having run off the road and left there to be towed away at a later time. The challenge to driving on Sunday was the bitter cold accompanied by blowing snow across the road. The cold made the snow so dry it blew across us and created a fog-like effect which made visibility poor.

Our time in Indianola with Mom, Darrell, sister Jacquie and her hubby Jim went so well. We played lots and lots of games, taking turns choosing which game to play. My favorite was an old game we had not played in years: Password. Darrell's favorite was Circle Rummy. Jim liked Wizard (I think?). Mom and Patsy were happy with anything. Jacquie's favorite activity though was not the games (although she is an avid game-player). Her favorite thing was when we three sisters and Mom sat in front of the computer web-cam and sang "Sleigh Bells" into the camera. Mom had a solo part you really should hear, singing the words of Parson Brown with much feeling and drama! It was quite funny. The award-winning performance is on Facebook for public viewing. Groan.

Goldie, the cat, has come out of her shell a bit. Mom and Darrell had her new last Thanksgiving when I was there and she just plain irked me. She wouldn't let anyone get near her! She was no better than a ferral cat, in my opinion. But this time she has developed a slight bit in the social graces area and actually jumped up on my lap a few times. Poor Goldie, or I should say, poor Jacquie. The cat was constantly wanting in and out the door and Friday night did not come back to be let in by the time we all wanted to go to bed at 1 am-ish. Since Jacquie had let her out, she felt responsible to wait up for her - not so the rest of us - "good night all!". Well, Jacquie tried to go to sleep but would get back up again every so often to see if Goldie was cold and meowing at the door. Finally at 2:30 am Goldie showed up. When some of us got up at 6:30 the next morning, Jacquie thought the night went way too fast - and that the kitchen floor above where she slept needed more insulation to block out creaking foot steps.

On Saturday night we exchanged some gifts and it quickly became a pajama party as sister Patsy had gifted us all with brand new pj's! We all donned our new duds and took pictures! That's how we are - we'll take pictures of any occasion - even new "intimate" night apparell!

Now I'm home having been greeted by my first-born who arrived home from college while I was away. He actually bounded down the stairs to greet me - and that is probably the highlight of the weekend for me. I guess I'm a very "needy" mom - he loves me!

Over the meadow and through the woods? Not.

I'm supposed to go to Iowa early Friday morning. It is to be a rare family get-together of my aging mother and two sisters - also attended by one brother-in-law and a step-father. Will I make it? It is very iffy at this point. Yesterday my much-loved Mercury Sable decided to foil my attempts at a family reunion. Going down a city road suddenly a terrible clunking sound occurred underneath my car. Oh boy, I thought, I've run over a very large hunk of metal. But I hadn't seen anything. Hmm. Next it felt like I had a flat tire. I definitely was sitting lower. Fortunately I was right next to a parking lot so I pulled in. After inspecting all 4 tires, none were flat. What gives? Then I realized the front left corner of the car was sitting all the way down on the tire (pretty much). This does not bode well for Friday morning. So I had it towed to Ed's Auto. We'll see what he says. I have a feeling the news will include at least a 3 figure amount of cash involved in its repair -- and a lengthy stay at the car hospital.

In spite of my disappointment at possibly not making it to Iowa, I AM thankful this did not occur out in the hinterlands of cornfields and chilling winds that would accompany the Iowa interstate. I'm home in my warm house. Nevertheless, does anyone feel sorry for me? I do!

Our little friend - Kip

Here's a self-photo taken by Ashley. She is very creative in what she does with a camera. I thought it would be fun for you to see her face from a new angle!

Are you pumped?

What's another way of saying someone is rejoicing greatly? What? Can you hear us today saying, "I feel like rejoicing greatly right now." or "Honey, you make me rejoice greatly, you know?" How about: "My children rejoice greatly on Christmas morning, don't yours?" Come on! This phrase is a bit archaic for 2008, don't you think? Instead, we might say: He was hyped, or was beside himself. Possibly we'd say, she could barely contain herself. Maybe this: he was pumped!

Think about what a person would look like if they were hyped, or pumped, or beside themselves. What do you picture? I see someone standing up and pacing the floor. Their face is animated, with eyes wide open and bright. There would be a smile on their face and their arms and hands would be moving up and down. They wouldn't be able to sit down.

Now transfer that picture over to a day in the life of Jesus. He had been talking with 70 men who had gone on a little trip into the countryside, visiting villages where Jesus was due to come speak. Jesus had given them authority and boy did they have authority! When they came back, they were so excited because demons had been afraid of them! This was new territory. But it isn't their joy I want you to think about. Because during this conversation with Jesus about their success with evil spirits, Jesus got really excited. In old fashion language my Bible says "He rejoiced greatly in the Holy Spirit." You can pass right by that without blinking an eye. Do you realize what this is saying? He "rejoiced greatly." He was pumped! He was hyped! He couldn't sit down because of the adrenaline running through His veins! Do you know what He was excited about? Two things. He was excited that we can kick the devil in the pants. And, the other is that our names are recorded in heaven - we're saved! Isn't that cool? Think about Him reacting in such an demonstrative way. We need to get past thinking He spoke in a monotone voice, dispensing heavenly wisdom as if he were giving a speech on medieval culinary practices or how to do new math. This was no boring guy. And look at what excited Him. Our salvation, and our ability to deal with an enemy that's out for blood. He is excited because He knows we've won the war, and have tools to fight the battles.
I'm pumped, aren't you! (From Luke 10)