Each careful step Across the floor Cushioned by Layers of history What was once alive Now protects as it Deteriorates Feeding the earth Lying underneath How many have Come and gone Taken these same steps Across lines of Time and space- Did they notice The Luna moth Drying her wings In frilly foliage Of gentle ferns Or the bright orange Mushrooms Peeking out from Underneath The fern leaves Were their steps cushioned as well? Steps that allowed Time for pause Time for soaking up All the forest Has to say About the past The present And the future
Feelings Often show Right On Our Faces Before We even Understand them Ourselves There they sit Right On Our Faces For all the world To see For all the world To interpret And though Interpretations Are likely Incomplete Perhaps The attempt To understand Will prove A first step To understanding
I caught a glimpse of myself in an airport restroom mirror. The person staring back at me did not look happy. Add another inconvenience. Nothing major. Just a broken latch on the restroom door. That’s all.
What is wrong with me? I don’t like the look on my face.
An investigation provided the following information:
My 4:00 A. M. alarm was rude. I need my sleep.
No time for tea before my first flight. Tea wakes me up.
Travel is exhausting. But the adventures are worth the stress. I think…
Now put a smile back on that face and get on the next flight home!
The past two years brought health challenges for my dad. Open-heart surgery and heart failure were encapsulated by complications from diabetes. I am grateful he is still with us. And he is thriving.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad!
He and my mom have coped well with the struggles of health combined with pandemic living. I know it has not been easy, and I am proud of them.
On this Father’s Day, I miss my father-in-law, Bob. I often wonder what he would think about the current state of the world. The political divide in our country? He would be disappointed. The challenges of living through a pandemic…not sure how he would have fared. Isolation from family and friends would have been difficult. He lived for his family and was quick to whip us into shape. 😉❤️
But, oh, what good things have happened. Grandchildren graduated from high school and college. Several are now married. And three new great-grandchildren have joined our family.
Anytime we are together as a family, I know he is smiling. He is smiling, and we are remembering.
Stoic He stands In the center Of the forest- Looking From behind The years of Weathered ware Show clearly So much so A passerby Might question Whether or not He was still alive Unless they Keep walking Circling The forest floor And spot his One good arm Outstretched Hand waving His face in Full view- Grandfather Tree With his welcoming Well-worn smile I’ve got my fishing pole. Are you ready to go?
Another cool and breezy day in Vermont. A morning hike and an afternoon winery visit. A yummy maple creemee. Not looking forward to the Oklahoma heat!
We drove under a canopy of trees. So thick in stretches, we wouldn’t have been able to see the sun even if it had been shining. Winding switchbacks took us to the top of Mt. Mansfield. We marveled at the beautiful views.
Some of us closed our eyes and held on tight at certain turns. Well…one of us did, anyway. But that was not the thing that caused me to gasp. Instantly feeling like a little kid. Any guesses?
Boulders with great veins of quartz running through. Some were standing solitary. Others were stacked, forming small caves. Even others with trees growing against their faces. Those might have been my favorite.
Standing in the shadows of these giants, the kid in me wanted to fill my pockets with pebbles. No, I did not. Managed to rustle up some restraint.
Instead, I stood in awe of these majestic formations. Felt the embrace of their cool breeze. Accepted their invitation to climb, stand, and sit. And finally, to walk away feeling confident, steady, and grateful.
Walking through an airport can be a tad overwhelming. Where is my next gate? The restroom? Starbucks? Ok, so maybe not Starbucks. But the level of activity and the sheer number of other people…can feel a bit frantic.
Today while walking through Chicago O’Hare airport, I heard the sweetest phrase.
Hold hands and follow me.
When I glanced across the walkway, I saw a mom standing with a baby on her hip and two other littles standing close by. The words I heard were her message to the kids. They listened, grabbed each other’s hands, and followed her.
What a precious picture. Yes, mom looked travel-worn. Her responsibilities were many. I don’t know where they were headed, but they were going together.
This scene caused me to question. Is that how God talks to me? Does he say, Look! Here are your family and friends. Just grab a hand and follow me.
Or perhaps, if unable to reach out, pick me up. Carries me like the baby on the mom’s hip. Leaving the hand-holding and following part to family and friends. Either way, I am never alone.
Side note: I really was traveling today. 😊 Spending a few days in beautiful Vermont. More to come…
Yesterday marked four years since my first Piano Girl blog post! I continue to be thankful for this WordPress family. I look forward to reading your words and continuing to find new connections.
A lot has happened in four years. Not the least of all, living through a pandemic. Times of sickness, death, isolation, masks, and vaccinations. Challenging does not begin to describe.
And yet, good things pushed their way through the muck. Extended time with family. New friends connecting across the miles thru zoom. Resilience tested and proven within so many. I even had my first book published!
No, those things do not erase current events distress from the wars in our world and gun violence in my country. They do, however, encourage me to cherish the connections I have, old and new. They remind me of the importance of loving, even when we disagree. They give me hope.
Here’s to year five! Prayers for peace. Actions with intention. Words to encourage. Stop by and say hello!
Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. I Peter 4:8
Today, I am sharing a previous post in honor of my friend, Shannon. This marks seventeen years since she lost her battle with breast cancer. She is greatly missed.
Have you ever experienced an instantaneous friendship? You meet someone for the first time, yet it seems as if you’ve always known them? That’s exactly what happened when I met Shannon. Both of our husbands had new jobs which brought us to Liberal, KS. She was the wife of a pastor and me the wife of a high school assistant principal. We both had young children and were navigating a new place, far away from old friends and family.
If you’ve never been to Liberal, well…there is an actual edge of town. You can see nothing but fields for miles and miles in all directions. The town had a Walmart, a few restaurants, and a small shopping center. We would drive an hour and a half to Garden City, KS just to eat at Applebees. Needless to say, it was quite an adjustment for both families.
Our move to Liberal was the second big move we’d made in nine years of marriage. Memories from previous moves brought images of tear-filled goodbyes with many dear friends. Some of those goodbyes turned into lifelong friendships, but in that actual moment of leaving it felt like our world was falling apart. As for me, the tears often continued as I adjusted and searched to figure out my place in a new location. Looking back now I understand that those lonely times strengthened our marriage and brought our family closer together, but oh were they hard.
Soon after we settled in our new home, I heard an advertisement on the radio for a MOPs (Moms of Preschoolers) group meeting. I’d never been to one of these before but was excited at the prospect of meeting other moms with small children. There was also a weekly storytime at the library. My two oldest would be starting school soon, so that would give Ryan (my youngest) and I a fun outing.
It’s funny looking back now, I can’t remember if I first met Shannon at the library or MOPs. I definitely noticed her at both events with her young kids. She had such a welcoming smile, maybe we would become friends! We introduced ourselves, and it wasn’t long before we had traded phone numbers. At least now there would be a familiar face at storytime and our MOPs meetings.
Not long after school started, Shannon asked if I’d like to go for a walk after we dropped our older kids off at school. Our youngest kids were the same age, and still enjoyed short stroller rides. That first walk remains etched in my memory. We chatted about our families, what had brought us to Liberal, our future plans. And then Shannon shared the most amazing thing. From the time they knew they would be moving, she had been praying that God would send her a friend. I will never forget her words, “I think you just might be the answer to my prayers.”
From that point on, we were inseparable. Playdates, family dinners, babysitting for eachother…things all young moms desperately need. I’m not sure how I would have survived that year without her. It felt like we had known each other our entire lives. She would even laugh and say she must have named her daughter Kelli after me before she even knew me. And to make the year even more exciting, she soon discovered they were expecting their third child! So much to plan and celebrate!
Telling Shannon that we would be moving back to Oklahoma for the following school year was not easy. I dreaded making that phone call. We were in Oklahoma for the interview and she was in Kansas, having just given birth to their sweet baby. Terrible timing, but I knew it couldn’t wait. Always gracious, she understood. Moving would eventually be part of their future as well. There were tears and promises to keep in touch. Despite having experienced this kind of goodbye with friends before-it was not any easier.
Although Shannon and I had become close friends in such a short time, I had no idea the lasting impact she would have on my life. After our move, there were regular phone calls in those first months and even a visit despite the distance between us. But our communications quickly took a different tone as Shannon was diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer.
How could this be possible? A young mom of three, healthy, no family history…the wife of a pastor. She fought so hard. Surgery, treatments, more surgery…and so many prayers. I witnessed the outpouring of support from their family and friends past and present. There were also a few misguided individuals who thought if her faith was just strong enough, she would be healed. Most certainly they did not truly know Shannon.
If ever there was a time in life where I questioned my own faith, this was it.
I had the privilege of spending a week with Shannon and her family shortly before she died. Oh, my sweet friend-fighting with courage and grace I had never witnessed before. Her cancer had spread once again causing tremendous pain and weakness. But she was determined we would go shopping, and we did. She had also planned an outing for us at a lovely tea room, and we went. I watched as she pushed through, insisting on serving dinner and giving attention to her family-she loved them so much.
Shannon’s kindness as a friend, patience as a mom, and unwavering faith in the face of terrible tragedy continue to impact my life. We may have only lived in the same town for one year, fifteen years ago, but I miss her. The grief that she is not here with her family remains. I keep a picture of the two of us on a shelf in my closet. When I look at this sweet photo, I think about the power and importance of friends. And remembering our instantaneous friendship, I am grateful. 💗
In the shapes Of clouds In the leaves Of trees In the feathers Of backyard birds It is everywhere But do we recognize it? They say… It is the spice of life. Maybe there is more to it than that? In the colors Of our skin In the traditions Of our cultures In the songs Of our hearts Variety draws us in Gives us cause To pause And wonder Encourages us To embrace Our differences Before showing us How very much We are the same
I wish I knew the whole story. How your life began. The circumstances surrounding your birth. How your big sister played with you. What you were like as a toddler.
When we first met, you were bossy and tall for your age. But you had a big smile and beautiful long, dark hair. You loved flying high on the playground swings. I’m glad for those moments of joy in your life.
Schoolwork did not come easy. You worked so hard. No matter what we tried, letters and numbers couldn’t find their way into your memory banks. Not long-term, anyway.
You enjoyed listening to stories and spending time playing pretend with your friends. Somehow, unphased by the lack of remembering academic details.
Traveling between Mexico and Oklahoma seemed to be the pattern. You, your mother, and your older sister. That must have been stressful and scary. Not knowing how long you would stay in one place or where you belonged.
I wish I knew the whole story. Why the older you grew, the less care you seemed to receive. Understanding there must have been challenges in raising a child with disabilities. But still, you deserved to be cared for and loved.
What love there was somehow faded with the birth of a new baby. Slowly turning to neglect and abuse. My heart breaks over what I do know.
You are unable to tell me your whole story. Only bits and pieces. Maybe I shouldn’t wish to know it. One thing I do know is you will always wear the scars. Yet, you still manage to smile. You give and receive love. And just maybe, that is the whole story. ❤️