Author Archives: dinahoverlien

Rehab

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in sessionSince PB’s shoulder surgery last month, he’s had regular rehab appointments to get the muscles back in shape.  Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday he meets with John, who is a relentless taskmaster, putting PB through 45 minutes of challenging exercises.  Without that consistent work-out, the muscles would never recover strength or be able to function as intended.  That appointment is not optional and John expects PB to come with a willingness to work.   At first, PB dreaded going — he knew it wouldn’t be easy or comfortable.  But now, he and John are pretty good friends and after every session, the shoulder feels better and better.

I need rehab.

So every morning I meet with my Holy Therapist.

He soothes my hurts from the day before.

He rubs my sore spots with the oil of the Spirit.

He pushes me to move in new ways.

He keeps me from becoming stiff-necked.

He rehabs my soul.

Without that appointment, I grow weak and function poorly.

I know He expects me to show up and be open to His leading.

It’s not always easy or comfortable, but there is healing.

Over time, my sessions have gone from duty to delight.

Dear Lord, rehabilitate me.

“I’ll refresh tired bodies; I’ll restore tired souls.”  Jeremiah 31:25

Breathing Again

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breatheNot that I’m making any excuses for my rude behavior, but sometimes something has to give.  Unfortunately, small drop got dropped in the midst of an unusual season of busyness.  Some days are so filled with living that words can’t squeeze their way in to record the journey.

Today, because it’s my birthday, I’m giving myself a moment to breathe and see what leaks out with the exhale.  First, a look back.  This is how the autumn has gone:

PB took a tumble and tore his rotator cuff.

Our younger daughter and her family came to spend two weeks with us.  Our older daughter and her family came to spend two weeks with us.  We had 14 people in the house for almost two weeks.

We hosted the first ever family reunion on my side, with over 40 of us gathering.

Our younger daughter and her family moved overseas.  I sobbed at O’Hare.  I sobbed all the way home.  I sobbed when I walked in the house and saw the spit up cloths.

We had two big weddings – PB tied the knot, I got to sit and watch.  I always cry at weddings.  Happy tears.

My honey had shoulder surgery.  He felt like crying.

My sister-in-law had brain surgery.  Tough day with tough news.  I cried.

Our fifth grandchild was born (#4 in 2013).  I wept with joy as I held all 5 lb. 13 oz.

Our church sang “Have We Told You Lately That We Love You?” to us.  I did the ugly cry in front of the whole congregation.

I flew to Salt Lake City.

I flew back the next day with our older daughter and two grandsons.

Our son-in-law and his dad drove a moving truck for 24 straight hours.

Our older daughter and her husband and their two boys moved into our basement.  After being out west for 10 years, I blink back tears when I think that I get to see my girl’s face every morning in my kitchen.

Goodness, there’s been a lot of cryin’ going on.  Some sad, some happy, some from sheer exhaustion.  All from living life.  You know how it is.  You do it, too.  I wouldn’t trade away one of those tears, though.  Emotions mean I’m alive and I’m loved and I’m loving.

There.  I did it.  I looked back and sighed a big sigh.

Now I’m going to start looking forward.

Thanksgiving, Christmas, Skyping with the twinsies, chasing the toddler, getting to know the new babies, singing, worshiping, studying, teaching…and hopefully, writing.

A Mom’s Toughest Job

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A mom’s toughest job isn’t…..

getting up in the night with a crying infant,

or keeping a teething baby comforted,

or being stuck in a house with sick toddlers,

or settling squabbles and getting everybody to share nicely.

A mom’s hardest task isn’t….

keeping up with the laundry,

or pulling off a fantastic birthday party.

or doing 6th grade math,

or instilling the value of a clean bedroom.

A mom’s most difficult choice isn’t….

which school to send the kids to,

or what clothes are appropriate,

or what time curfew is,

or which friends are a good influence.

A mom’s toughest job,

hardest task

and most difficult choice

is

letting go.

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Here is wisdom for the moms and dads that time has proven true,
The day your children learn to walk, they start to walk away from you.
For at first you hold all of them, cradled safely in your arms,
Then one day their hand is all you hold, and soon it’s just their heart.

Can the sparrow ever learn to fly if the nest is all it knows?
Can the arrow ever reach its mark by remaining in the bow?
You have to let it go.

“Arrow and the Bow” by Steve Chapman

One Little Decision

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 red canFunny how one little decision can seem to throw off the universe…

My dear hubby, PB, decided to clean the garage instead of go fishing on his day off.

He decided to clear out all the old red plastic gas containers we had for Y2K…ummm….13 years ago.

He decided to smash them in order to fit them into a big garbage bag.

He decided to jump on a gas can with two feet…

which sent it shooting across the garage floor…

which sent him flying six feet into the air…

which caused him to land on the cement on his left shoulder.

He decided to call me.

I decided to take him to ER.

The doctor decided PB tore his rotator cuff.

We decided it’s a good thing PB isn’t a major league pitcher.

I decided I love him still.

But I kinda wish he had gone fishing.

A Ten-Turkey Sunday

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There aren’t many events that call for ten turkeys.

Even the biggest family gatherings at Thanksgiving or Christmas usually get by with one stuffed bird.

But Sunday wasn’t just any day.

Around these parts, Sunday was what we call “Rally Day”.

It’s the annual kick-off to the Sunday school year….

followed by a potluck, the likes of which Wesley himself would be proud.

PB grilled ten turkeys, with a little help from his friends.

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Turkey #1, in prayer position.

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Turkey #2.  Soon to be a burnt offering.

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Turkey #3, waiting in the wings.  Heehee.

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Shooting turkey #4 full of PB’s secret recipe marinade.

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Oh yeah, baby.  We stuff our birds with butter. #5

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#6 getting poked before going to bed for the night.

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#7, 8, 9, 10 – all tucked in and soaking up the savory goodness.

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No parking – turkey heaven right there.  Sizzling, smoky scrumptiousness.

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Dig in, you blessed Methodists.  Gobble up the goodness.

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I sure hope there are potlucks in heaven.

Now tell me, how many pastors cook up dinner for their flock?

No pun intended.

Wait.  Is a group of turkeys called a “flock”?

Anyway, a good time was had by all.

Thanks to all those who kept an eye on the birds while PB preached.

You missed a good sermon.

Thanks to all those who set up, ate up and cleaned up.

You are good souls.

Have we told you lately that we love ya?

 “Blessed is the one who will eat at the feast in the kingdom of God.”      Luke 14:15

Acres of Glory

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Late summer is one of my favorite times of year.

The mornings and evenings start to cool down, but the days are still toasty.

Sunflowers are in their glory now, so I like to spread some of their cheer around the house.

I put a few on the mantle…

sun 4

and a couple on the shelf.

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I hang some on the wall….

sun2

and set one on the table.

sun1

Yes, sunflowers make me happy.

So imagine my joy when I happened onto this:

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Acres of sunflowers!

As I was taking in the view, I thought, “Now…this is abundance.”

I could run into that field and lose myself in there.

I could stand among the stalks and be dwarfed by them.

I could reach up to the bloom and find tasty nourishment.

I could pick myself a handful every day and never run out.

Then I thought about my paltry plastic petals at home on my mantle.

Those fake flowers and imitation images seemed like a weak substitute…

after seeing acres of glory.

Hmmm….

My life as an authentic believer should have an abundance to it.

Faith is more that a plastic prop to put on display.

Belief is not piecing scraps of good deeds together.

The field of flowers taught me a good lesson.

I want to seek a deep and wide and long and high relationship with God —

not a drive-by appreciation, but a dive-in-and-get-lost-in-glory kind of thing.

I want to stand in His presence and be humbled by my smallness —

and be astounded by His greatness.

I want to reach up – stretch myself to know more, then dig deep —

and let the Seed of His Word sustain me and take root.

I want to be filled with the Spirit every day —

and never run out.

What would life be like if I committed to such a creed?

“I have come so that they may have life, and may have it more abundantly.”  John 10:10

Four Babies

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This morning my daughter Katie and I thought it would be nice to take a walk around our town square.  We talked about packing up the kids, stopping at the coffee shop, and then strolling into a few of our favorite shops.

But there are four babies at our house.  What were we thinking?

By the time Eli and Ella were fed and dressed, Hudson was getting up.

By the time Hudson was fed and dressed, Eli and Ella were falling asleep in their swings.

Then Charlie needed to nurse.

Somewhere in there, I changed three poopy diapers.

By mid-morning, Hudson was ready for a nap.

Then Eli and Ella woke up and I gave them each a bottle.

When Hudson got up (he didn’t really sleep), Charlie was nodding off in the swing.

Then Eli and Ella spit up, so I changed them into their second outfit of the day.

It wasn’t long before Hudson was hungry for lunch.

About then, Charlie woke up and just wanted to be held.

Eli rolled over onto his stomach and couldn’t get back over, so he cried.

Ella rolled over and smacked Eli, so he cried louder.

Then I changed some more diapers.

After lunch, Hudson really needed a nap because he didn’t actually sleep before.

Then Dan, Anna, Kelsey, Sam and PB walked in and played with the babies.

Katie and I took a nap.

Maybe we’ll try again tomorrow.  Maybe not.

How many chances will I get to hold four babies in one morning?

An iced caramel vanilla latte topped with whipped cream and a drizzle of caramel syrup can’t compare.

Not even close.