Have you ever wanted life to come with the option to use Mulligans? Boy, I have!
Twice.....count it, TWICE in the past year, I have been told I said something that I can't believe came out of my mouth; yet it could not have possibly come out of someone elses mouth! I have no recollection of either situation. But, boy, did I say something I sure wish I had not! Both situations have proven to be utterly embarassing for me, and I'll just die if I ever have to see these fine women again.
What can I do about it? Nothing. That's the frustrating part. When we do or say something, you just can't have a re-do, a Mulligan. Our words are scattered with the wind and goes where the wind goes. Can you catch the wind? I think not. So it is with our words.
I vow to be more careful, to be more discerning, to be better, but I'm not. I stumble; I make mistakes; I stumble, and I make more mistakes. It seems to be a never-ending cycle. I am thankful for the forgiveness of my true friends, for those who help me get on my feet again and put a bandaid over the scratched up knee, for those who remind me that I am more than the screw ups that I make.
Lord, put an angel on my shoulder and your hand over my mouth....or at least teach me how to make Mulligans work in my life! ;-)
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Jet Trails
(Pictures above from the garden this morning.....Charlie's blueberries, a grasshopper crawling up my arm this morning, and Grace's sunflowers)
This morning was such a quiet morning. Andy and Joshua left for camp on Sunday, John and Grace spent the night with my folks, and Charlie left for Bardstown this morning to go to the Boy Scout camp to update his lifeguard status. It is terribly quiet here.
Earlier, I brewed myself a cup of espresso and headed out onto the deck. The birds were twittering in the trees, singing songs of a summer morning. A sudden, cool breeze blew, sending an unexpected chill up my spine. I looked up, expecting to see a thundercloud above, but noticed jet trails on the backdrop of a thin mackerel sky.
There were only a few jet trails. However, those few jet trails were enough to get me daydreaming. Who was flying at this hour? Where were they headed? Chicago? NYC? DC? Atlanta? Who were they meeting? Who was picking them up at the airport? Will they have a sweet reunion? Was this a father who has been away on business, rushing home to have a late breakfast with his children? Was this a mother who has been spending a bit of a summner break with friends and is headed home, refreshed for her long summer days ahead with the kids? Was this a man who is surprising his lover by flying to her hometown and taking his sweetheart to lunch? I would love to know the stories!!
Hearing Jake scratch at the glass door brought me falling back to earth, my head no longer in the clouds. I put on some flip-flips and headed out to the garden to look it over before heading out to work. Things are progressing as they should. The garden is beautiful.
I sneaked a quick peek at the sky before heading in dooors to get ready for work. So many stories; so many possibilities, and so little time.
I had such a nice morning. Welcome summer!
Earlier, I brewed myself a cup of espresso and headed out onto the deck. The birds were twittering in the trees, singing songs of a summer morning. A sudden, cool breeze blew, sending an unexpected chill up my spine. I looked up, expecting to see a thundercloud above, but noticed jet trails on the backdrop of a thin mackerel sky.
There were only a few jet trails. However, those few jet trails were enough to get me daydreaming. Who was flying at this hour? Where were they headed? Chicago? NYC? DC? Atlanta? Who were they meeting? Who was picking them up at the airport? Will they have a sweet reunion? Was this a father who has been away on business, rushing home to have a late breakfast with his children? Was this a mother who has been spending a bit of a summner break with friends and is headed home, refreshed for her long summer days ahead with the kids? Was this a man who is surprising his lover by flying to her hometown and taking his sweetheart to lunch? I would love to know the stories!!
Hearing Jake scratch at the glass door brought me falling back to earth, my head no longer in the clouds. I put on some flip-flips and headed out to the garden to look it over before heading out to work. Things are progressing as they should. The garden is beautiful.
I sneaked a quick peek at the sky before heading in dooors to get ready for work. So many stories; so many possibilities, and so little time.
I had such a nice morning. Welcome summer!
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Time Traveller's Wife
Tonight was movie night here. We chose to watch The Time Traveller's Wife. (If you haven't seen it, it makes a good date movie.) It has been a weekend filled with lots of different emotions, so the movie was a perfect match. In other words, a good chick flick!
I wonder.....would I enjoy being a time traveller? Yes, I think I would. I love new experiences and new people, something I am learning about myself. I also like to know what is happening, even if I can't control it; it seems to settle me overall to have knowledge. However, the whole not travelling with your clothes isn't for me; something would have to be done about that!
Imagine, getting to see things all over again! Getting to have another, extra conversation with a loved one who has passed. I know I would give nearly anything to spend some time with my Nanny again. Also, you would get to see your lover grow and fall in love with you once again. How many of us treasure that moment and would love to relive it a thousand times again. It would certainly be a remarkable gift to relive those happy, golden moments.
There is a pain, though, and a saddness that must come from time travelling. You miss living in the moment. Whether joy or saddness, pride or shame, love or disinterest....you miss living that moment the second you are whisked away in time. It is like getting to the end of the tootsie pop and not getting to have the tootsie roll inside! To NEARLY experience life is the trade off for being a time traveller. There is a cost.
I wonder....could I stand to be a time traveller's wife? Absolutely no! I could not easily endure at all the seperation from the one I love most. Absence does not make the heart grow fonder, rather it is a constant sting, as if tiny ice needles pierce your heart. Can you imagine being in a quiet setting, savoring every precious moment when....zip....off the time traveller goes. No warning, no good-bye...just here and then gone. No, I could not stand to be the time traveller's wife. It would break my heart.
In the movie, the love and the romance between the time traveller and his wive was palpable; it ran thick and deep. Everytime he left her, she died a little inside, and yearned for the moment he returned. She waited patiently, loving all the while. Everytime he returned, she welcomed him with open arms, overjoyed at his return.
They were living every minute, every second to its fullest; they were living out loud!
Sweet dreams....I'm turning in for the night!
I wonder.....would I enjoy being a time traveller? Yes, I think I would. I love new experiences and new people, something I am learning about myself. I also like to know what is happening, even if I can't control it; it seems to settle me overall to have knowledge. However, the whole not travelling with your clothes isn't for me; something would have to be done about that!
Imagine, getting to see things all over again! Getting to have another, extra conversation with a loved one who has passed. I know I would give nearly anything to spend some time with my Nanny again. Also, you would get to see your lover grow and fall in love with you once again. How many of us treasure that moment and would love to relive it a thousand times again. It would certainly be a remarkable gift to relive those happy, golden moments.
There is a pain, though, and a saddness that must come from time travelling. You miss living in the moment. Whether joy or saddness, pride or shame, love or disinterest....you miss living that moment the second you are whisked away in time. It is like getting to the end of the tootsie pop and not getting to have the tootsie roll inside! To NEARLY experience life is the trade off for being a time traveller. There is a cost.
I wonder....could I stand to be a time traveller's wife? Absolutely no! I could not easily endure at all the seperation from the one I love most. Absence does not make the heart grow fonder, rather it is a constant sting, as if tiny ice needles pierce your heart. Can you imagine being in a quiet setting, savoring every precious moment when....zip....off the time traveller goes. No warning, no good-bye...just here and then gone. No, I could not stand to be the time traveller's wife. It would break my heart.
In the movie, the love and the romance between the time traveller and his wive was palpable; it ran thick and deep. Everytime he left her, she died a little inside, and yearned for the moment he returned. She waited patiently, loving all the while. Everytime he returned, she welcomed him with open arms, overjoyed at his return.
They were living every minute, every second to its fullest; they were living out loud!
Sweet dreams....I'm turning in for the night!
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Season of Change, Season of Grace
Many, many years ago, I worked through a Bible Study entitled, "Season of Change; Season of Grace." I remember it being interesting to me because I was in the midst of many changes. I had just married Charlie; we had moved 600 miles away to the mid-west; I was finishing up my degree in a new university, and I was brand new to setting up a household and being a wife. It was definitely a season of many changes, and I certainly needed to feel the grace of others.
I made it through that time, but it was difficult without someone to guide me along. My family lived 600 miles away, and although I spoke with them every weekend, it wasn't the same as it would have been had we been able to live near one another. It took me a long time to find trusted mentors to guide me through life's seasons of changes.
Fast-forward 21 years.....I have a wonderful daughter who is 8 and has had many very difficult changes this year. We have overcome and learned how to deal with the physical and spiritual changes. We tackle the emotional changes the moment they erupt all over everyone and teach her how to tame that monster. There is one area, however, that we, ourselves, struggle with over and over.....the loss of a relationship.
Grace has to be sad for her friend E, whose father died unexectedly on the way to work one day. Out of the blue, this healthy, fit 40 year old man had a massive heart attack. Grace sobbed for days for her friend E. and his family.
I had to walk away from a friendship that had become toxic in my life, a good friend, my best friend. Grace loved this friend very, very much. Grace asks often about this friend, and we try to explain that some friendships are for a season. We tell her about how the friend has gone on and sought a different life, different than our family's goals. Grace asks if she is allowed to pray for this friend because she really misses this friendship. We encourage her to pray for this friend often. She does.
What do we hope we have taught her about relationships?
I made it through that time, but it was difficult without someone to guide me along. My family lived 600 miles away, and although I spoke with them every weekend, it wasn't the same as it would have been had we been able to live near one another. It took me a long time to find trusted mentors to guide me through life's seasons of changes.
Fast-forward 21 years.....I have a wonderful daughter who is 8 and has had many very difficult changes this year. We have overcome and learned how to deal with the physical and spiritual changes. We tackle the emotional changes the moment they erupt all over everyone and teach her how to tame that monster. There is one area, however, that we, ourselves, struggle with over and over.....the loss of a relationship.
Grace has to be sad for her friend E, whose father died unexectedly on the way to work one day. Out of the blue, this healthy, fit 40 year old man had a massive heart attack. Grace sobbed for days for her friend E. and his family.
I had to walk away from a friendship that had become toxic in my life, a good friend, my best friend. Grace loved this friend very, very much. Grace asks often about this friend, and we try to explain that some friendships are for a season. We tell her about how the friend has gone on and sought a different life, different than our family's goals. Grace asks if she is allowed to pray for this friend because she really misses this friendship. We encourage her to pray for this friend often. She does.
What do we hope we have taught her about relationships?
- The truest best friend you will have in your entire life is not a human at all. Your best friend is the Savior. He is THE friend who sticks closer than a brother. He is the PERFECT BFF.
- Friendships have beginnings, middles, and ends, just like stories. However, one of the amazing things about friendships is that if a friendship ends, it just might pick up during another season of life. (I'll have to write about my friends T. and L. sometime!)
- Treasure the time you have with your friends. Life is short. Enjoy your friends, be sweet, honest, and trustworthy with them and you will have a great time.
- When a friendship is over, whether it ends well or not, it is over. Don't dwell on what might have been or could have been. It doesn't change what is.
- If the friendship breakup is bad, remember that this friend is a image bearer of God and treat this person as such. There is no need to "air your dirty laundery." Your realtionship was between you and your friend, and not you, your friend, and the rest of the world.
- If your friend airs the "dirty laundry" just let it be. You do not need to correct, convience, or attempt to persuade anyone about anything in the friendship; it was no one elses business but you and your friend. By keeping your mouth shut while your x-friend keeps talking, you are showing your true character....trustworthy, loyal, respectful, gentle, kind...to the others who are watching, and believe me, they are indeed watching. The friends worth their salt will wisely watch and discern your true character, no matter what the other person might say or do to push the contrary. Trust the truth; find shelter in the quietness of your spirit while you wait in the palm of God's hand for the storm to pass.
Friendship and relationships are tough. They ebb and flow. You draw near and you drift far from one another. It is how we handle theses seasons of change that makes the difference. By applying a bit of grace to friendship as they complete their life-cycle, we can certainly add to that beautiful bouquet of experience that we call life.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
The Quilt
Above: Grace's quilt top. We should have it quilted and bound by the end of summer.
Below: Beth's quilt from Nanny. It was finished in 1972. The pieces of fabric are from clothes I wore growing up or from Nanny's dresses. I love this quilt.
THE QUILT
I grew up in the hills of West Virginia, not the mountains that you often associate with WV, but the hills. We lived out a little 5 mile long road named Browns Creek Road at the top of Coal Mountain. My childhood home sat in the mouth of a hollow, and a small creek ran along side the house. It was a great great place to grow up.
My Nanny, my Daddy's mother, lived just up the road over a mile. As a very young child, I would go home with her from church on Wednesday nights and stay over with her until church on Sunday mornings. Once I was school age, I often rode the bus to her house to stay until my father or mother picked me up after work. As a teenager, I often took a couple of weeks during my summer and stayed at her house.
Nanny taught me lots of things, not through the "come here and let me show you method;" rather she taught me by simply living. I saw how she made pie crusts and the secrets she used to make them perfect. I felt the biscuit dough as she made biscuits and learned her secret to great biscuits. I still make her barbeque beans that she taught me to season by taste. When she gave me the recipe to her coconut cream cake, she also told me her little secret for making it so yummily moist. I learned my love for quilting by lying beneath the homemade quilting frame that my grandfather made for her and watching the needle punch through the fabric, seeing her nimble fingers grasp the needle beneath, and following the needle with my eyes as she pushed it through the back to the top, making the tiniest, neatest stiches.
One day warm day when I was quite young, I was lying beneath the quilting frame, watching her quilt, when I popped up and proclaimed, "Dis is my 'kilt, Nanny."
Nanny replied, "No, honey, this is my quilt, but I will make you a quilt for your wedding day."
The story goes on that I went on home with my parents, returning to her home in tears a few days later. She met me in the living room and as she hugged me, she asked me what was troubling me.
I replied, "Nanny, I've been twying and twying to get marr-weed, but no on will marr-we me."
The family gets a big kick out of sharing that story. That day, however, started a tradition and a promise that Nanny kept to each of us grandchildren. On our wedding days, she had for each of us six grandchildren a gift of a hand-made quilt and a set of pillow cases for which she did the needle work and made the lace.
The tradition continues. For each of my boys' eighth birthdays, I presented each of them with a hand-made quilt that I made for them. My thought was that these were practice quilts for me, twin/double size, and should easily see them through their college years. My hope is to make them a wedding quilt for their new life.
Grace's 8 year old quilt, however, was a totally different quilting technique and pattern than what I used for the boys. My life is much more complicated, and I don't truly have the time to spend that I would like to spend making her quilt. However, something special happened that makes Grace's quilt so very special to me.
Mother saw that Grace was really pushing for her quilt, so she asked if she could help. I agreed. Mother did all the applique and pieced the top of the quilt. I'll do the "in the ditch" quilting on my machine and bind the quilt. Mother will do the hand quilting in each square.
I share this story because it is such a precious tradition to me. I hope that someday Grace will continue the love and tradition by passing down a quilt she makes for her daughter or granddaughter. I have had fun working with my mother on Grace's quilt, which is another special detail in this tradition.
My Nanny, my Daddy's mother, lived just up the road over a mile. As a very young child, I would go home with her from church on Wednesday nights and stay over with her until church on Sunday mornings. Once I was school age, I often rode the bus to her house to stay until my father or mother picked me up after work. As a teenager, I often took a couple of weeks during my summer and stayed at her house.
Nanny taught me lots of things, not through the "come here and let me show you method;" rather she taught me by simply living. I saw how she made pie crusts and the secrets she used to make them perfect. I felt the biscuit dough as she made biscuits and learned her secret to great biscuits. I still make her barbeque beans that she taught me to season by taste. When she gave me the recipe to her coconut cream cake, she also told me her little secret for making it so yummily moist. I learned my love for quilting by lying beneath the homemade quilting frame that my grandfather made for her and watching the needle punch through the fabric, seeing her nimble fingers grasp the needle beneath, and following the needle with my eyes as she pushed it through the back to the top, making the tiniest, neatest stiches.
One day warm day when I was quite young, I was lying beneath the quilting frame, watching her quilt, when I popped up and proclaimed, "Dis is my 'kilt, Nanny."
Nanny replied, "No, honey, this is my quilt, but I will make you a quilt for your wedding day."
The story goes on that I went on home with my parents, returning to her home in tears a few days later. She met me in the living room and as she hugged me, she asked me what was troubling me.
I replied, "Nanny, I've been twying and twying to get marr-weed, but no on will marr-we me."
The family gets a big kick out of sharing that story. That day, however, started a tradition and a promise that Nanny kept to each of us grandchildren. On our wedding days, she had for each of us six grandchildren a gift of a hand-made quilt and a set of pillow cases for which she did the needle work and made the lace.
The tradition continues. For each of my boys' eighth birthdays, I presented each of them with a hand-made quilt that I made for them. My thought was that these were practice quilts for me, twin/double size, and should easily see them through their college years. My hope is to make them a wedding quilt for their new life.
Grace's 8 year old quilt, however, was a totally different quilting technique and pattern than what I used for the boys. My life is much more complicated, and I don't truly have the time to spend that I would like to spend making her quilt. However, something special happened that makes Grace's quilt so very special to me.
Mother saw that Grace was really pushing for her quilt, so she asked if she could help. I agreed. Mother did all the applique and pieced the top of the quilt. I'll do the "in the ditch" quilting on my machine and bind the quilt. Mother will do the hand quilting in each square.
I share this story because it is such a precious tradition to me. I hope that someday Grace will continue the love and tradition by passing down a quilt she makes for her daughter or granddaughter. I have had fun working with my mother on Grace's quilt, which is another special detail in this tradition.
I love family traditions and stories!
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