A Final 2012 Reminder from my Gynecologist

(Perfectly safe reading for the testosterone-laden)

May of 1988 – that was the first appointment with Dr. George Long.  Dreading the whole embarrassing process and the long heard-of discomforts, it was undeniably time for the very important “inaugural visit.”  Dr. Long was and always has been a charming, sensitive professional – making that first visit and countless others borderline enjoyable.   One could almost forget about the medically necessary un-pleasantries.  

Thinking back over the doctor/patient relationship, it’s obvious that this fabulous physician was instrumental in many of the “big watershed moments” of my journey thus far.  He was first to diagnose thyroid issues; discovered 3 early stage cancers; and best of all – on December 27^th 1990, he told me that I was going to be a mommy!  He was beyond patient with the myriad of questions and concerns.  He was ever encouraging and comforting as a miscarriage was suspected (but thankfully not confirmed!)  Dr. George calmly communicated the need for an emergency C-section, ultimately delivering my 8lb 1.3oz bundle of joy without complication.  Loving this little life and so greatly anticipating her arrival from the very beginning of pregnancy – I couldn’t have hoped for a more consummate professional.  (A friend  conveyed the same loyalty to the doctor who delivered her babies – so it seems I’m not alone.)  The entire pregnancy and delivery experience really escalated my confidence in him as a physician.

“Dr. George” is the ONLY gynecologist I’ve ever seen.   Because of his integrity, compassion and flawless care -  he earned my trust, respect and countless referrals over the last 24.5 years.  Of course, I’ve often said that Dr. George’s  distantly approaching retirement would be a significant obstacle when the time came.  I could NEVER imagine another gyno. 

 A few days ago I mentioned to WGH that being delinquent for my annual visit; I needed to call for an appointment with Dr. George before December 31^st.  (It was a fleeting thought and I neglected to make the call.)  Strangely, yesterday afternoon, there was a message from his office:  “You need to come in and pick up your medical records in the next two days as our office is closing unexpectedly.”    Living in the lawsuit-happy culture that we do – my immediate assumption was the catalyst for closing, was likely a medical malpractice case. 

Hearing the peculiar message AFTER business hours – I resorted to a quick online search. Several links popped up, resulting in sad shock - Dr. George died at 56 from a heart attack. Tears filled my eyes upon the realization that this wonderful doctor is now gone - dying one week after memorializing his father – who was also his longtime partner in the practice.   Knowing that he is married with children (younger than mine)….and knowing the office staff has long been much like a family, I was heartbroken.   The doctor/patient relationship – while important, pales in contrast to the wife, sons and “office family” that are grieving the absence of an incredibly exuberant, all-around great guy! 

So, the search for a new OBGYN will soon commence for all of Dr. Long’s patients.  The online tributes reveal that many women share my sentiments.   But, newly widowed Mrs. Long and their children will experience Christmas without a husband and father.  They will usher in 2013 in a completely unexpected manner.  Without any forewarning, they are without their protector, provider, best friend and spiritual leader.   Always evident in conversation – and throughout the office, Dr. George was not just a consummate professional, but a Godly, devoted family man.

When death occurs, I tend to wonder what the last 24 hours were like for the family.  If they could recapture those precious hours – what would they do differently?  What would they say to each other?  You’ve got to think that trite matters would be overlooked and an emphasis on finishing well would be apparent.  Clearly, I’ve no clue what transpired within the walls of their home – but I pray that the same calming demeanor patients relied on and appreciated, was magnified to and from the family he cherished. 

In 24.5 years, Dr. George shared countless bits of wisdom and insight.  Perhaps the final takeaway is this: How would I have spent the last 24 hours if this turned out to be my final moment?   How would foreknowledge of our death or someone else’s change perspective? Would trivial things be appropriately laid aside?  Would couples hold each other tighter and embrace a little longer?  If we had an idea that we were soon to be absent of our physical bodies, would we love more completely and unashamedly, forgive quickly and readily? Would we laugh more? Complain less? Would we embrace still, quiet moments with our Creator or squander dwindling hours?  As parents, what would we want our last words to our children to be?

 Most importantly, would we draw close to Christ and leave no doubts about our future in Heaven?  Would we do more to make certain our family and friends would be with us for eternity?  These aren’t new or first time thoughts, but Dr. Long’s sudden passing has certainly caused me to reflect on these questions. 

Minutes past are gone forever – we don’t get them back.  Opportunities missed don’t always present again.  We don’t know when our last breath will leave our lungs…but it will happen to every one of us, and it could be at any second.  Why risk or waste a moment?  A word?  A decision?  An opportunity?

 

"yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes."  (James 4:14)

 

 

 

 

 

Captain Ben's Boat

 

William and I have been fortunate when it comes to traveling.  Hopefully, opportunities for roaming adventure will only increase.  Together, we’ve been to hundreds of places.  Our journeys have included  visits to historical places; beautiful, bustling cities; respites in quaint, remote parts in the middle of nowhere; and many mesmerizing beaches.  We’ve witnessed breathtaking creation from the shoreline of the East Coast to the West and beyond.  In Cape Cod, we were awestruck by whales breeching from far below the surface.  In Maui, we sailed alongside giant sea turtles and rode bikes down a volcano.  We snorkeled in St. Thomas and in Molokini as sharks and an eel circled nearby.    (Not scenery I opted for – but encountered nonetheless!)  To see any of these sights is to be reminded of the innovative and awesome power of our Creator. 

Of course, images we see daily should serve as reminders, but familiarity becomes an anesthesia.  We are too often numb and we miss out on moments of worshipful living.  We are struck by the tiny hands and face of a newborn, but if one truly looks into the weathered hands or face of an 80 year old,    something equally fascinating will be seen.  So, day to day encounters with family members, our pets, gardens, weather and the increasingly complex nuances of the human body are an in-your-face aide-mémoire.  IF we open the eyes of our heart to see wholly, we are a tiny part of a very elaborate creation, one that reveals the Majesty of God.

With the vast range of “Creation Reminders” William and I have shared, none have come close to evoking the intense, white-knuckle fear that gripped us both on an unsuspecting October morning in Destin, FL.  It wasn’t in the form of “Creation” the way we normally think of.  It proved, however, to be a powerful testimony to the sovereignty of our God – on many levels.

It was our first trip to the Gulf as a couple.  My man expressed a desire to go deep sea fishing - there was not an iota of interest on my part.  However, on a Thursday afternoon, we walked around the Destin marina and scoped out the different “fishing tours” available for the weekend.  Not recalling the specifics, William probably opted for “Captain Ben’s Boat” because of price, timing and passenger availability.  Being a team player, I joined him  for the 8 or 10 hour ocean journey as a “rider” – no stinky bait, no rods and reels.  I was promised time to read and leisurely sunbathe as he cast his line into the Gulf waters in hopes of landing a trophy fish.

It was an early morning embarkation from the Destin Harbor.  As everyone gathered, we quickly figured out that I was a minority – the only female on the passenger manifest of around 80 people.  No biggie – I would keep to myself, basking in the glorious sun (which I would NEVER recommend now!)  Captain Ben reviewed the rules and said a heartfelt prayer before everyone stepped aboard.  At the time,  I wasn’t accustomed to being around a lot of “public praying” and the last place it was expected was in a marina with a bunch of fishermen.  (The irony!)

I found this photo of Captain Ben & his boat
via Google....He's standing where my fisherman was!

My handsome fisherman took his position at the center of the bow.  There was a built up area several feet behind him, positioning me for reading and cheering him on as he reeled in his catches.  As we began the journey, I had no forewarning of William’s propensity for motion sickness.  It came as a surprise when we had barely left the Destin Pass, that he was green with nausea.  Actually, it went a step or two further….I watched in shock as he hurled breakfast on the elderly gentlemen to his left.  Fortunately, that gentleman was wearing a large yellow poncho.  With the events that followed, I’m confident he never knew what or who had hit him – literally.

We quickly decided to go up the stairs to the “deck” area where it was wide open and my sick fisherman could recover.  He laid down on a bench and I kneeled by him in support.  Unbeknownst to either of us, we were entering a squall.  (I had no IDEA what a squall was until this day!)  As we sat there the 2 story “party boat” started rocking intensely and the winds noticeably picked up.  There was a large generator/compressor or something a few feet away, toward the center of the upper deck – it looked like a large white freezer.  High winds lifted the metal lid from the unit, over the bow of the boat and into the water.  We both realized that had we stood up a second earlier, decapitation or being knocked overboard could have been our demise.    

We struggled down the narrow stairs to the main area.  All the fisherman were struggling to stand and all fighting against the wind to get inside the relatively small galley.   The smallness was amplified because most every man aboard was now hurling their breakfast – EVERYWHERE.  The man in the yellow poncho was among those having difficulty stomaching the rough seas.   There were two small bathrooms, with the doors open. Multiple guys were jockeying for a receptacle  whether a shared sink , toilet or trash can. As squeamish as I am, it’s amazing that I didn’t succumb, or at least faint.  (I’m getting nauseated now just thinking about it!) 

Not being an expert on nautical life,   my words may fall short in describing the tumultuous seas that day.  The boat, while “2 story” felt tiny in the high waves.  My guess is an aerial shot  of our vessel would have looked something between the tiny SS Minnow and the Andrea Gail (Perfect Storm.)  While maybe those more familiar with the ways of the sea may not have felt as threatened, we both thought we were going to die.  The gigantic waves, the rocking boat with parts flapping and flying off , 98% of the passengers vomiting and falling all over the place, and water crashing over the sides of our boat left me feeling helpless and very scared.  We would never see our children again I thought!  This was it.

While the timeline is fuzzy in my mind after so many years, there was finally a  moment where things stopped.  The clanging of doors and flaps ceased.  The male groanings stopped (mostly).  The boat steadied and people calmed.  We were no longer were thrashing against the power of the waves…...We were going to make it after all! 

At a time in our lives when we were just dabbling in our faith – not real intentional at all, this day served as a wake-up call.  Even now, when the details of  our “deep sea adventure” come to mind, there are obvious application points.  

• We aren’t sure why we chose “that boat”…. Perhaps it was all by design.  Maybe we endured that particular storm together to serve as a reminder when “future storms” invade.  Many storms have since challenged us, and still many more will surely come. 
• While I wasn’t “walking with the Lord” as a Child of God should have been ,  I was hanging out on the periphery.   Captain Ben’s openness to sharing his faith, especially in a pretty “atypical” environment really caught my attention.  His boldness captured my attention and has never left my memory.  I’m grateful for the example he was for me almost 20 years ago.  Captain Ben was a modern day “fisher of men”.
• As a mom, I’d be beside myself if my children ever left the “shore” without letting us know where they would be.  We did not let a single family member know where we were that day.  IF, we had not returned to our families, how long would it take for them to know we were missing?  Today, I think about friends and families who are engaged in the “storms of their lives” – some are quick to communicate their anguish and seek accountability, prayer and encouragement.  Others, remain to themselves until it’s almost too late.   We need to know “where” our loved ones are in their journey.  If they are approaching stormy circumstances, we ought to be close by tossing life preservers and prayer in their direction.
• Like the guy standing next to my handsome, seasick fisherman…. You  might get a little messy if you’re accompanying someone through a storm.  Life is messy.  Deal with it. 
• When the two of us were on the upper deck of the boat, we could’ve easily died had we stood up a moment too soon.  Perhaps this is just to remind me that wherever we are in the storms of life, we should be kneeling.
• The 8 (or 10?) hour deep sea journey was cut short.  After the squall loosened its reckless grip on our boat, we turned around and headed back to the marina.  I don’t think a single person complained about the fishing trip being cut short – but many were likely thrilled to see dry land (and clean clothes!)  It’s amazing how our perspective changes when we’ve been in stormy waters…. We learn to appreciate the “little things”.
• Of course, the old adage applies:  don’t forget to stop and smell  the Roses….and following a day like that one, we did just that!  After the trying day at sea, my fisherman wanted anything for dinner with the EXCEPTION of seafood!  We found a quaint little Italian restaurant with a delicious aroma of garlic, called “Roses.”  The food was outstanding – even on recovering, weak stomachs.  It was at that restaurant on that particular day, that we discovered a mutual affinity for Merlot.  (1 Timothy 5:23). 
• Last, and certainly not least – Captain Ben’s Boat was named Emmanuel “God with us.”  How perfect an illustration.  How amazing was the gift of this storm….it certainly didn’t feel it at the time, but in retrospect, I KNOW the real reason we “chose” that particular boat.

 ³⁷ And a great windstorm arose, and the waves were breaking into the boat, so that the boat was already filling. ³⁸ But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion. And they woke him and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” ³⁹ And he awoke and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. ⁴⁰ He said to them, “Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?” ⁴¹ And they were filled with great fear and said to one another, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?”  Mark 4:37-41

The Little Foxes

 “Catch the foxes for us,

The little foxes

That spoil the vineyards,

For our vineyards are in blossom”

 

It’s been another hard week:  from issues with prodigals to broken hearted loved ones;   to excruciating headaches and friends enduring great loss; to recurring “mom guilt” “wife guilt” and now even “friend guilt”, a list of household projects - a mile long and growing.  The perceived deficit of time and energy is daily propagated.  So daily grows the volume of bills to pay, conversations to initiate and administrative tasks to complete.  Concerns for my children as they've entered adulthood have increased exponentially rather than subside as I naievely anticipated.  “It’s been another hard week“  is a five-word, trivial, understated assessment of the last seven days. 

A group conversation at the onset of the week affirmed what I already knew to be true – I AM NOT THE ONLY ONE in the proverbial weeds.  Most of my friends and family members have expressed similar pressures in recent days.   Along with others, I’ve acknowledged that if only one or two issues existed – then we’d be better able to manage the calendar, clock and conflict.  However, we all feel under attack with multiple issues in every facet of life.  (I didn’t even mention hormones, car or internet issues – but hey, they are not to be discounted as they add a layer of complexity uniquely problematic!) 

So, as one who routinely looks for the “good” in everything – I’m still doing so and clinging to those silver linings, but with the sheer volume of “life stuff” – it has been a bit more challenging to realign my attitude.  Last week, in a group discussion regarding “life stuff”, someone mentioned “it’s the little foxes that eat the vines.”  This passage didn’t stand out to me.  Now I know it was not by chance that I researched this text – it really spoke to me.   

Foxes are:

·         Found in deserts, but also in leafy vineyards

·         They are cute, fast, and little – because of their small size they’re not taken seriously

·         Described as crafty, carnivorous, cunning and active

·         Destructive to vines

·         Dwell in holes or underbrush so they can be hard to detect

·         Scripturally Illustrative of:

o   False prophets

o   Cunning and deceitful people

o   Enemies of the church (Song of Solomon 2:15)

Many of the “life scenarios” mentioned above are  "Little foxes” in effect - likely to distract, discourage, and set up for an attack.  However, they serve as a reminder of our need for diligence,   intentionality, and steadfast pursuit of time with the Lord.  (Not just talking to Him, or boldly “casting our cares” onto Him; but actively listening to Him while resting in His presence and His promises.) 

Let’s face it, the busier we are and the more distractions that come our way, our temptation will be to take shortcuts (I confess – GUILTY!).   The truth of the matter is that it’s in these times we especially need to make time with the Lord a priority.   Those little distractions may simply be the enemy’s way of trying to rob us of the fruitful lives we are free to experience when we abide in the Vine of Christ.   

(Since foxes exist in the desert and also in plush, green vineyards – it seems logical that we are subject to their wiles whether in a desert place or in a place of plenty.  No one is exempt.)

Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. (John 15:4)

"Outfoxing the foxes" leads to recapturing joy, peace, order, proper focus and a fruitful life.

 

 

Speaking of distractions, obstacles or discouragements in the form of "little foxes" - several months ago, I implemented a “worry list”.  I can’t take credit for the concept, because it was discovered via a google search.  The process is simple.  At the beginning of your personal devotions, create a written list of every concern you have – regardless of how big or small.  It could be the health of your spouse, your child or your cat; a leaking faucet; car repairs; medical bills; weight gain; hair loss; fallouts with friends; a loved one’s salvation; the crumbling marriage of a friend; a brand new marriage of another; time management issues; retirement accounts, acne on photo days, etc.  Write down any “thing” or any situation that causes you apprehension, alarm or frustration.   

Once you’ve written every concern on paper, review the list.  For each item listed, ask yourself “is there something I can do about this?  If so, create an “action item” to be completed later.  If there is nothing literally to be done about a situation, write out a simple prayer.   

This basic exercise has guarded against distraction throughout an extended time of prayer.   This process has also been beneficial by keeping issues and my appropriate response in perspective.

 

 

 

A Trail of Tears: Part Deux

Wow, today I was blown away by the number of people who either verbally, or in writing:

• Agreed with; sympathized with; or identified with  last night’s post
• Showed concern for me; making sure I wasn’t ready to “jump”, or lovingly ensuring that my sadness wasn’t overwhelming or long-lasting
• Complimented my writing ability….  (Thanks, you two!)

When one person said, “it was kind of sad” – I quickly recalled the words of a very wise pastor at a marriage conference several years ago.  He spoke of anger – not being a sin (as is often perceived); but anger being a God-given emotion.  At the conference he elaborated, indicating it’s what the person “does” with their anger that determines if it crosses over into sin.  Anger directed inward = depression; anger directed outward = rage.  For several reasons, that session never left my recollection.

Similarly, I see sadness as another God-given emotion.  “Jesus wept.”  - If Jesus wept, and He was without sin – why should it be wrong for the rest of us?  Surely, He models that feeling sadness or grief is acceptable. As with most things, I’m sure moderation is key.  If we live in a perpetual state of despondency, then something is clearly wrong and appropriate aid is needed.  (Another reason we should live in community!)  In all transparency, I’ve been there too.  In the past – depression invaded my life.  Relief was sought via counseling and at points, medication.  Many of my friends and family members have done the same and in no way, do episodes of depression or it's treatment convey a weakness.    For some, taking medication for depression is no different than medication for diabetes, high blood pressure, cholesterol, sexual dysfunction or ADHD.   Somewhere along the way, society decided to make it taboo.

Anyway,  this is just a quick update to let my friends and family know that all is well.  Last night’s tears served their purpose as “salt tablets”. It felt good to wail and I believe those tears were truly God-ordained.  They pulled me toward the Word, to a deeper place in prayer…and at the same time – weeping freely felt plainly therapeutic!  Not much has changed in the situations my friends, family and I are facing….but my outlook has. 

For now, I’m getting ready for a delayed birthday dinner with a friend at one of my new favorite restaurants, “Seed.”   I am blessed – every day and in every circumstance.  Sometimes, it’s just a matter of clearing out the cobwebs and vetting thoughts and emotions against the grid of God’s unfailing promises.

Off to dinner….

 

 

 

A Trail of Tears

In 1968, my then “expectant” parents saw the outdoor performance of “Unto these Hills”.  Supposedly, the reenactment included the story of “Tawnda”.  Rumor has it my name was sealed at that event.  The tagline for the historical outdoor play, still going on in 2012 reads: The story of the Cherokee people through the eons, through the zenith of their power, through the heartbreak of the Trail of Tears, to the present day. 

For most of my life, I’ve thought my given name was somewhat prophetic.  “Tawnda”, was long said to be the name of a young Cherokee Princess struggling on the Trail of Tears.   Existence of a “Tawnda” in either Cherokee history or Indian Lore has not been validated, despite my limited efforts.   Regardless, the name I long abhorred strangely seems to fit. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trail_of_Tears) .  

Tonight, standing at the kitchen sink, with Christina Perry’s “A Thousand Years” in the background – the taste of salt on my lips was relentless.  Streams flowed down my cheek like a raging river.  Some of the flow ended on my lips, forced to taste.  Some tears dropped like rain on the stainless steel basin and splattered like bloodstain.  The “saltiness” has never been more prominent.  I’m a prolific “cryer” – so I know these tears were different.  Why?

 Is it…

• The broken, wounded heart of one so innocent and loved so dearly?
• The agonizing “waiting” my closest friend is experiencing?  The “waiting” that just a few days ago was not even close to mind?
• The hurtful tone of another in my direction today?  The hurtful tone of one of my dear friends – over a trivial PREFERENCE?
• The misery of some close to me…. Waiting?  Watching?  Feeling backed in a corner so that sin is their only perceived option?  (Me, realizing sin is NEVER the right response – and knowing full well the consequences and guilt will far outweigh the momentary relief?)
• Phone calls for rescheduled CT scans – unexpected, out of the blue? 
• Longing to be a better wife – better Mom - better “Mimi” -  better friend –  better niece –  better granddaughter – better daughter-in-law, -  better Homemaker – better financial manager – better at working out – better at “doing it all” …and realizing, time, distance and circumstances in some cases – act as the “lid”?  Wondering what I can change, let go of?
• Wishing for more hours in the day?  (Wondering if those hours were granted, would they just become filled with column fodder or would I select and prioritize more wisely?)
• Wondering why my inbox never seems caught up?  Wondering why my errand list never ends?  Wondering why I feel there aren’t enough minutes in the day, days in the month,      months in the year?
• How can I do it all?  How can I do it well?  (This is an anthem too often played).  Is a crazy, busy life a life that’s full and pleasing to God?  (NO) 

These, were the immediate responses to the origin of tears…. Don't get me wrong - something felt strangely good about expressing that avalanche of emotion, fully - without concern over who might be in the next room, or in the hall outside of my office.  Those tears were cleansing and real.  I hate when people say, "Oh - don't cry...."  Giving permission to oneself or to another to weep without hesitation is freeing. 

But, as the waterworks continued and my mind took the time I too often deny - a story I hadn’t thought of, in years, came to mind.  As a small child, I vividly recall my grandmother telling me about her and Papa working at a shipyard in Brunswick.  Since they were working in the brutal South Georgia heat, in the direct sun – their supervisors gave them frequent salt tablets.  The salt tablets were to evoke thirst….the thirst would keep them and other laborers hydrated.  Ultimately, the salt led to a thirst for water which preserved their lives.   Why she told me that story – I don’t recall.  Maybe we were looking at old black and white photos as I often enjoyed doing – and that story came as narration for some.  Regardless, it impacted me tonight – out of nowhere.

Are tears God’s mechanism for ultimately hydrating us?   It makes total sense.  Most, but not all of my tears tonight were “others” focused –not necessarily in response to direct pain.  (Although, as a wife, mom and close friend – it’s hard to tell the difference at times.)    I would so gladly stand in for the storms that my babies face but as I was reminded on Sunday – the safest place for parents to be is out of God’s way.   (Ah – finally, an area in which my parents excelled.)

It’s no secret to those around me –  I’m a bit of a crybaby.  This week has elicited many tears – tears of joy and thanksgiving, tears of compassion, remembrance, and yes – even tears of frustration.  (Those are self-centered.)  Whatever the catalyst for tear-stained cheeks and tear-splattered sinks, I’m seeing their purpose in a different light.   Those tears that penetrated my lips and touched my tongue are no different than the salt tablets given to shipyard workers in the 1940s.  My tears are to make me thirsty…. To make me crave THE life sustaining “Living Water.”

…time for a trip to The Well.

t 

 

 “Come, everyone who thirsts,

come to the waters;

       and he who has no money,

come, buy and eat!

       Come, buy wine and milk

without money and without price. ^[1]

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

for my people have committed two evils:

       they have forsaken me,

the fountain of living waters,

       and hewed out cisterns for themselves,

broken cisterns that can hold no water. ^[2]

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They shall hunger no more, neither thirst anymore;

the sun shall not strike them,

nor any scorching heat.

¹⁷    For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd,

and he will guide them to springs of living water,

       and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” ^[3]

 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 You have kept count of my tossings;

put my tears in your bottle.

Are they not in your book? ^[4]

 

---

^[1] The Holy Bible: English Standard Version. 2001 (Is 55:1). Wheaton: Standard Bible Society.

^[2] The Holy Bible: English Standard Version. 2001 (Je 2:13). Wheaton: Standard Bible Society.

^[3] The Holy Bible: English Standard Version. 2001 (Re 7:16–17). Wheaton: Standard Bible Society.

^[4] The Holy Bible: English Standard Version. 2001 (Ps 56:8). Wheaton: Standard Bible Society.

Happy 21st to my Little Angel

http://smilebox.com/playBlog/4d7a4d794e5459334d6a4d3d0d0a&blogview=true


Children are a reward.  (Psalm 127:3)  

Happy Birthday to my little Angel, my reward....

I love you!
mommy

The 23rd Day of The August Gratitude Journal

A day of simple joys,

A visit from a friend with the perfect birthday gift....spreading the celebration out another day...

Home cooked dinner with the family,  A new chicken recipe - well received...

Kisses from kittens….snuggling  with the kittens make me smile (the most adored felines ever - Lily and Bella)

Hugs from my baby girl, Laughs and dishwashing help from her and her beau, reminded of how he  has done far more to “help” in the kitchen and around the house, than all other significant others of the siblings COMBINED  - what a treasure!

A quiet evening at home, with no outside commitments?  The perfect ending to the day!

Goodnight! (It’s funny how recalling the “good” almost made me forget the morning migraine – further benefit to focusing on the blessings!)

August 22nd - Birthday Blessings!

Wednesday August 22^nd….

This has been a year of growth.  One perhaps birthed in August of 2011 with the first “Gratitude Project”.  It’s been a year where quiet evenings at home have won out over being “constantly on the go.”  It’s been a year that the simple joys of sitting on my deck, in the sunroom or on the swing, have grown more meaningful.  There is great peace and contentment in sitting still, reflecting and listening to creation.  This has been a year of increased contentment – regardless of trials, household repairs and occasional drama.  It’s been a year, where the recollection of simple and profound joys is far more prominent than temporary setbacks, disappointments and hurts.  Life is not perfect – but it is much better than most realize!

The year of growth culminated today with an office full of gifts and cards, a fireplace full of gifts and cards, phone calls, lunch with a dear, dear friend, lots of birthday hugs, simple, low-key dinner, chocolate ganache, a dirty martini with extra blue cheese olives and my favorite – “family game time!”  (It seems that I’m the only person around that appreciates board games!)  Oh well – it was a great day – just what I had hoped for.  Birthdays are especially fantastic for those of us who have the love languages of "gifts" and “words of affirmation.”   I’ve been overly indulged today!





Today was an around-the-clock reminder of the many special people God has surrounded me with. I am the recipient of much love and affection.  Gratitude fills my heart!

 And, as always – I’m not embarrassed to mention my age, I’m just grateful for each day here...and refuse to be a woman to proud to admit the years she's been given.

44 is off to a most fabulous beginning....
 

 

Blue Stars - My Baby Girl - Friends (18th-21st)

Saturday August 18^th…..

Today, I’m reminded of how profoundly blessed I am to be a part of Blue Star Mothers of America.  Not only is the Atlanta Chapter full of phenomenal, caring women – but we are all united by a common bond. The bond we share is one that few “outsiders “ would understand – that of being a military mom.  All branches of service are represented. Most of us have known the agony of deployments; the frustration of mailing care packages overseas; and the anxiety induced images that sometimes plague our slumber.  We know firsthand the heightened attentiveness to news reports of roadside bombings, helicopter crashes, and wounded or lost local heroes. We understand how satellite phone calls at 3am can be the highlight of any given week. We know the incredible pride we have for our children’s sacrificial decision to join and we know the incredible concern we have upon news of deployments. 

Out of a group of 30, 7 of us lunched together today!

Lifelong friendships are often born in the midst of shared experience.  The support, encouragement, service to others, and camaraderie is an amazing gift.  Our monthly meeting was this morning, followed by lunch at a local restaurant.  Seven of us were able to attend – and it was a great time of getting to know each other even a little better.  It’s such a privilige to expand on our commonalities while learning more about our families, outlooks and interests.   

I’m so honored to be a part of this group that cares for each other individually, while also proactively supporting America’s military troops, our vets, and their families.

Sunday August 19^th…..

Migraines aren’t exactly cause for gratitude….however, since most of my day was spent lying down.  I’m grateful it occurred on a Sunday and not a day that was full of activity.  WGH took great care of me, making dinner and cleaning the kitchen afterward.  Given the pain in my head and the drowsiness from the meds, this is all I've got for today. 

If my profound gratitude for my comfy bed has yet to be expressed, let it be known now!  

 "Early to bed" for this  still grateful girl!

Monday August 20^th…..

Another Monday/Tuesday off this week – I’m grateful for the time to devote to errands, household projects and yes, sleeping late!  Last night’s pain meds caused me to sleep soundly through the night which is a huge blessing!

Today included a Bridal Shower Planning Session over lunch with my sister-in-law.  If not for being off today, we wouldn’t have been able to get together.  First on my list:  purchase, create and mail the invitations. 

Yes, again - I’m grateful for these August “free days”!  

Tuesday August 21^st……

Thinking about the many ways I’ve been blessed over the past 21 days – reminds me I should never have room to complain, not even for a millisecond!  My cup truly does runneth over.  This monthlong “gratitude exercise” in 2012 (not unlike 2011) is a great way to remain focused on things above ;  silver linings and just a ridiculously fabulous life!    Is everything perfect?  Absolutely not.  However, there are blessings every day, of all sizes, shapes, and modes – we just have to have our eyes wide open in order to see them.  God IS so good!
 

A moment of silliness before leaving...

This morning commenced my baby girl's Junior Year in College.  I was up early to make her breakfast and to snap the annual "first day photos".  It's surreal that my little angel is so grown up.  The fact that God chose me to be her mom has been a wildly phenomenal blessing that I'm reminded of each and every day.  It's hard to let discouragement invade my spirit when I see her still innocent, baby-blue eyes and her tender spirit shining through a beautiful exterior.  Superficial disappointments disappear and I'm reminded of the most incredible blessing of motherhood.  Not only motherhood in general - but I've got precious relationships with all three of my "babies."     Having no relationship with my own mother, makes the relationships with all three "now adult" children even more meaningful, and never to be taken for granted.

This day brought the possibility of an impromptu lunch with a lifelong friend.  Tonight, a simple but enjoyable  taco salad with the family satisfied a longstanding Mexican craving. It's been a delightful day of simple things....of simple things often overlooked, but those that bring true joy and pleasure to life!

This, my last day of being 43, brought the above reasons and many more – for sincere thanks.

Mark Zuckerburg & Angela (fka Angie) - Friday, August 17th

Perhaps it's only within my earshot and viewing, but many seem to assign blame for extra-marital affairs and momentary indescretions on Social Media, specifically Facebook. At risk of sounding insensitive, I have to laugh. Affairs and indescretions of any nature aren't the "fault" of Mark Zuckerburg and his brilliant invention. These willful choices remain attributable only to the the individual(s) involved. It seems another passive way for people and especially those with a "victim mindset" to place the burden of blame on the shoulder of another.

In the years, preceding FaceBook, did you ever heard anyone blame Alexander Graham Bell for the downfall of a marriage? Surely, there were phone calls made between consenting adults. What about people who've driven to hotels or flown across the country to meet a forbidden lover? Are we to blame the Wright Brothers for inventing the plane? Henry Ford for inventing the early Model-T? Personally, I don't see a difference. Sure - modern advancements, make communication between people and groups much more accessible. The information, tone and communicated intentions fall solely on the ones tapping out their words on a keyboard.

On the contrary, I have found social media - and specifically, Facebook to be a tremendous benefit and vehicle to build and maintain healthy relationships. I's a modern convenience and method of communicating for which I'm very grateful. In just a few keystrokes, and at a convenient time of my choosing - I can catch up on a few friends; check out my kids' pages; send a quick note to my aunt; and see updates on situations for which counsel and prayer have been requested. One friend keeps me entertained with her cat pictures and apprised of my "other daughter's" school progress. Another friend keeps me laughing with the silly cartoons. Some online friends simply inspire me. 

FB is an easy way to quickly let someone know they're thought of.  As with our tongue, we can "speak life" or we can "tear down".  The words we "speak", whether verbally, sign language, email, blogpost, tweet or FB status - are extensions of our "tongue" and  therefore the same biblical wisdom should apply.  (Our tongue, tweets, and posts are no different than the pen in the hand of a ready writer....and therefore exist as expressions of our beliefs, priorities and level or lack of character.)

On a very personal level, Facebook has been for me:

• A way to stay more closely connected with out of town family and friends - especially, seeing pictures of events and celebrations that may have only been described in words before. It's extremely cool to see my cousins and their children online regularly, when we may only see each other once or twice per year otherwise.
• A manner to support and be supported in the role of "marine mom" and "military mom"in general.... I've engaged with many parents who have heard the words, "Mom, I'm joining the Marines" or "Mom, I leave for Afghanistan in three months". These are life experiences that weigh heavily on the hearts and minds of those of us who have raised sons and daughters who choose to serve our country as adults. I wouldn't trade my son's decision - in fact, I admire him for his commitment. However, it's been such an encouragement and a gift to connect virtually with others who feel the same pride in tandem with unmistakable concern. To build friendships online and subsequently meet your friends in person is incredible! While I've been able to meet several online friends while on vacations or as they passed through Atlanta - there are many that I've not encountered face-to-face, YET.
• An easy, non-threatening and convenient avenue to reconnect with classmates from K-12 and college. Several of us have gotten together for lunch or dinner on numerous occasions and a few of my former childhood friends have been over to my house and met my family. It's great fun to see how people you knew as children and teens turned out in their 30s and 40s.
• Sadly, but gratefully still - FB has enabled me to learn when old and new friends were dealing with terminal illness; and when others' families have been hit with their own shocking loss. Because of our online connections, many have met or reunited at the funerals of old friends. We were able to honor and celebrate the memory of one life lost - along with supporting and consoling the family they left grieving.
• Most recently, I've realized that FB is an easy way to stay connected to many new friends made in Trinidad. Intentions are to return to that special place where God intersected a special chapter in my life's story with the lives of so many amazing women and teens. In the meantime, it's great to pull out my ipad and see a note or post from a new friend...over two-thousand miles away!

Speaking of social media and amazing encounters in Trinidad: while sitting on the top bunk far from home, hungry and tired after a long day of ministry in energy-zapping heat and humidity, I logged on to FB. There, in response to an "update" I posted earlier were the words:

"Amazing! We are coming to Trinidad on the 13th and am so blessed by your posts!"

These words would have been an encouragement from anyone, but I was pleasantly surprised since they were the words of a girl I went to Elementary and High School with. (Unbeknownst to me, we were also at the same college for a short time.) Anyway, I hadn't thought of or seen her since our highschool graduation, more than twenty years ago. Also, "funny" we didn't really hang out in school. We knew each other, but weren't in the same social circles. Funnier still, neither she nor I even realized we were "FB Friends" until she noticed Trinidad updates on her newsfeed and I saw her comments in response. After an initial exchange, we shared a few notes. I felt prompted to offer a meeting so we could further discuss what she could expect in Trinidad, based on my experiences there just days before hers would commence.

Imagine my surprise, when at Starbucks, we realized that on an island with almost 1900 square miles she was heading to the exact same city in Trinidad.  Imagine the mutual shock when we discovered her group would be partnering with the same little church I had just left a few days earlier? We were completely dumbfounded by the realization she would be staying in the EXACT home that my team stayed in. (With the same couple out of a population of over 1,200,000 people?) The amazement continued as we learned that she and her family would be traveling with a team from my church and with someone I consider a great friend? Wow - what are the odds? The "odds" can only be described as God-sized.

While Angela and her team were ministering to the children of Trinidad, I was thrilled to see her words and pictures online.  Her posts, along with team updates from our mutual friend served as encouragements and reminders of a place and people forever to be remembered.  What a blessing to see some of the same smiling faces with my long ago classmate, a week after I was there in their midst, crying and laughing and doing life with them.    
Yesterday, we had lunch again. This is becoming a delightful habit!  Our conversation over chicken salad drifted toward childhood recollections, mutual friends and similarities we never knew existed. The perfect timing and the meaningful nature of this new friendship has been an amazing gift in a short time.

When I think back to schooldays, I remember thinking Angela was one of the "lucky ones" - with external beauty, a desirable neighborhood, widespread acceptance and popularity...you know, the things that "matter most" in adolescence. During those years, I struggled greatly with my awkward appearance, and the looming cloud of anonymity -marked with bouts of geekdom. Talking yesterday, I realize those years perceived as wildly different presented similar challenges for us both. Neither of us - nor most girls we knew then, escaped seasons of agonizing over many common hangups, challenges, temptations and self ascribed inadequacies. How sadly conventional it was and is for young girls to feel like fish out of water....when the common goal is to blend in. How refreshing it is now, to have authentic, transparent dialogue and a few laughs, with no adolescent pressure to appear as perfect. How wonderful to have shared beliefs, passions and meaningful experience as adults. As a grown woman, I can honestly say - I'm happier than ever, being the "Me" that I am now - flawed, conflicted and admittedly, still a work in progress.

Today, Angela is still a gorgeous redhead...in fact, she has grown more lovely with time. She has a tender heart and an obvious love and devotion for her husband and daughters. Because her love of Christ is core to her being - she radiates compassion, humility and kindess. This new friendship, originated online and ignited by shared experience, is another of the many ways in which God has blessed me lately. The perfect timing and the meaningful nature of our discussions has been an amazing gift.

In this monthlong endeavor of journaling daily causes for gratitude - I would be remiss to not mention my long ago classmate, and brand new friend. As the newfound friendships established two thousand miles away so quickly became dear, so has she.