KNOCK, KNOCK.
Hey! Anybody home? Anybody on the other side of this computer screen?
It’s me – Hudson!
Nonnie? Poppa O? Are you there? Can you hear me?
Turn on the Skype, I want to see you!
Old Friend: Gift From the Sea
Anne Morrow Lindbergh is my BFF. I’ve never met her personally and she’s no longer living, but I know if our paths had crossed, we would have been kindred spirits. She was the wife of famous aviator Charles Lindbergh, author of several books, and mother to six children, one of which was kidnapped and murdered. I stumbled across her published diaries in a library years ago and our friendship began. Anne and I wouldn’t have agreed on everything; her marriage wasn’t perfect, her life wasn’t without heartache, her views on God and spirituality would have made for some intense conversation between us. But she bared her soul in her journals and wrote so beautifully about her desire to find balance.
Her book “Gift From the Sea” was published in 1955. I take it off the shelf every few years, just to stop by for a visit with my interesting and thoughtful friend who was trying to figure out how to juggle being a wife, mother, artist and citizen. She wrote about the different stages of a woman’s life, so every time I re-read this book, I find something new to appreciate because I’m in a new stage myself.
“But I want first of all – in fact, as an end to these other desires – to be at peace with myself. I want a singleness of eye, a purity of intention, a central core to my life that will enable me to carry out these obligations and activities as well as I can. I want, in fact – to borrow from the language of the saints – to live ‘in grace’ as much of the time as possible.”
On marriage: “A good relationship has a pattern like a dance and is built on some of the same rules. The partners do not need to hold on tightly, because they move confidently in the same pattern, intricate but swift and free…. There is no place here for the possessive clutch, the clinging arm, the heavy hand; only the barest touch in passing. Now arm in arm, now face to face, now back to back – it does not matter which. Because they know they are partners moving to the same rhythm, creating a pattern together, and being invisibly nourished by it.”
On children growing up and leaving home: “A most uncomfortable stage followed, not sufficiently anticipated…Plenty of solitude, and a sudden panic at how to fill it…With me, it was not a question of simply filling up the space or the time. I had many activities and even a well-established vocation to pursue. But when a mother is left, the lone hub of a wheel, with no other lives revolving about her, she faces a total re-orientation. It takes time to re-find the center of gravity.”
To read a book for the first time is to make an acquaintance with a new friend; to read it for a second time is to meet an old one. ~Chinese Saying
Waiting for Hudson
We have been counting down the days until our grandson, Hudson, comes to visit. Yes, our daughter and son-in-law are coming, too, but Hud Bud is going to be the main event in our house for a whole week in May! We’ll be celebrating Mother’s Day, two family birthdays and Hud’s dedication all in one swoop. I can’t wait to get my arms around that little guy and take a deep whiff of his sweet baby scent (I hope!). Even though Katie sends us pictures and videos every week and we Skype regularly, there’s just nothing like the real thing. Besides, I’m not sure what Hudson actually sees when he looks at the computer screen of two grinning grandparents. I’m not sure he’s going to really get to know us that way, or understand the depth of our love for him.
God communicated with His people long-distance throughout the Old Testament. He created a covenant that established a relationship, He sent prophets to speak for Him, He put into motion beautiful stories that illustrated His love. “But when the time had fully come, God sent His Son” (Gal. 4:4) because there’s nothing like the real thing. He couldn’t wait any longer to get His arms around His people. So the Word became flesh and we had a chance to see up-close the depth of His love for us.
When Hudson comes to Nonnie and Poppa O’s house, he won’t have to work for his room and board; he won’t have a list of dos and don’ts to follow; he won’t even be expected to do anything. We just want to love the little man to pieces.
Like we’ve been loved to pieces by our Father. And loved to death by our Savior.
Hot Tub
There’s a humongous hot tub in our garage. PB and I weren’t looking for a hot tub. I wasn’t praying for a hot tub. We didn’t even want a hot tub. It just appeared. What I really need is a blender. The Hamilton Beach 2001 was a wedding gift 33 years ago. This amazing appliance has been as faithful as PB all these years, but last time I blended something, liquid poured out the bottom and the flooded motor gave out. A blender is what I really want.
A few days ago, our younger son called PB. “Dad, we’re working on this house and they are getting rid of this hot tub and giving it away for free and it’s in really good shape and I said I’d take it. So, can you come with the trailer and get it? Tonight?” Always up for an adventure and trying to encourage our son’s eye for a good deal, my hubby went to go look at the treasure sitting on the curb. Turns out, the mammoth tub was in really good shape and they were giving it away for free and it was a good find. When I woke up the next morning there was a humongous hot tub in our garage.
I’m really torn about this unexpected blessing. I admit my first thought was to put it on Craig’s List and make some money to invest wisely for retirement. I know. Boring. (Somebody needs to be reasonable in this family.) Now I’m wondering: what would it be like to go out my back door and soak in bubbles under the stars? I have never done such a ridiculous thing. Is it even permissible for a pastor to have a hot tub? Maybe if we use it for ministry (or baptisms?) we could justify such an extravagance. But somehow I just can’t picture the church’s trustee committee gathering on our deck in their swimming trunks.
Such a dilemma.
Perhaps if the jets are turned on really high, a hot tub could make smoothies….
Foot Washing
Our church joined with several others in town for an ecumenical communion service last night. We listened once again to the story of Jesus washing the disciples’ feet. And once again, a layer was peeled away and a fresh understanding of the old story began to form in my mind. Hang in there with me as I wander toward a point.
The night of the Last Supper, Jesus knew that “he had come from God and was returning to God.” (John 13:3) He was fully aware that he was about to leave his group of friends; men with whom he had spent three years, day in and day out. When I was in high school, I spent a summer on a mission project. Our team went through a lot together in those few weeks and by the time it was coming to an end, we had grown very close. Leaving each other was hard and tearful. How difficult it must have been for Jesus to spend one last night with close friends. He also knew he was going to be tortured and put to death. So often, for me, the anticipation of having to go through something difficult is almost as bad as having to actually go through it. Facing a scary medical test or needing to confront someone on a touchy issue can loom large in my mind before the encounter even takes place. How heavy must have been the thoughts going through Jesus’ mind that night.
Last evening it became clear to me that Jesus was suffering as he washed his friends’ dirty feet. He was crushed beneath the weight of saying goodbye, facing a gruesome death and bearing the sin of the world. Yet in the midst of his own personal suffering, he served.
I’m most likely to serve when I’ve had a good night’s sleep, enjoyed a hot cup of coffee and have a fairly clear schedule. Even menial tasks like picking up the nursery, putting music back in folders, or washing out coffee pots, are met with a good attitude. But if I’m not feeling well, or I’m weighed down with worries, or overwhelmed by everything that needs to get done, my servanthood wanes. It’s hard for me to serve when I’m suffering.
I was reminded of a quote by Calvin Miller: “You are most mature when you minister to others in their pain, without reminding them that you yourself have problems. To minister to others even when you need ministry is to liberate your soul from small addictions to yourself.”
Jesus was not addicted to himself.
I am addicted to myself.
I am most like Jesus when I am not serving myself, but serving others.
I am most like Jesus when I serve others in the middle of my suffering.
Selah
I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you….Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them. John 13:15, 17
Love Him
Look at this precious child. He’s 8 weeks old and bigger than his teddy bear.
Hudson’s mommy told me he cried all day yesterday. It was an excruciatingly long day. Maybe he had a little tummy ache. Or maybe the full moon was throwing him off. It’s hard to believe this happy boy gave his mommy fits yesterday.
I know what the trouble is. He misses his Nonnie.
Hey, Hud Bud! See you in a few weeks!
Presence
I love the way Moses and God talk to each other. The conversation at the burning bush (Exodus 3) sounds a lot like some talks I’ve had with God.
“Dinah, do such-and-such.”
“What? Huh? Who am I to do such-and-such?…….Suppose I do it and something-or-other happens…..then what?…….What if no one listens to me?…….Lord, I’m not good at that…….in fact, I have never been good at that………Please send someone else…..”
Thirty chapters, ten plagues, one deliverance and a lot of manna later, Moses sounds very different. Instead of making a list of excuses when God tells him to lead the Hebrew people across the desert, the seasoned shepherd simply says, “If You don’t go with us, do not send us at all.” It seems Moses stopped saying “no” to God when he realized he had the Presence of God.
I like that approach. In the mornings, when the alarm goes off, I say, “Lord, if you don’t come with me into this day, I’m not going.” Of course, He promises to never leave us or forsake us (Hebrews 13:5), so eventually my feet hit the floor and we begin the day together. There hasn’t been one morning when He’s said, “I’m taking the day off, so you’d better just stay in bed.” Not once. The assurance of His Presence is what I need to face the day. No excuses.
The Lord would speak to Moses face to face, as a man speaks with his friend. Exodus 33:11
April Scripture Memory Verses
Can’t wait to see what verses you choose for April! Click on “comment” and type away!
Roadtrip to Ames
On Sunday, PB and I took a little roadtrip to Ames, Iowa. “Ames, Iowa?” you ask. Yes, indeed. Because that’s where our daughter, Anna, and her husband, Dan, live. We hadn’t seen them since last December and she offered to make us meatballs, so we went.
Ames is a friendly place.
It was windy the whole time we were visiting. Must be why they are called the Cyclones at Iowa State.
Dan and Anna have a cute little apartment decorated all Anna-style. The meatballs were delicious. I’m just sorry I didn’t take a picture of them.
We brought the Spree along and handed the keys over to them. The scooter just doesn’t work for 6’5″ boys who weigh 200 lbs. (All muscle.) Anna took it out for a ride.
Then Dan took a spin.
While Dan was out, PB fixed the light socket in their garage. Because PB has to fix something when he goes visiting the kids.
When Dan got back, the men talked about garages and tools and cars and scooters. I went back in and ate some meatballs.
Anna and Dan took us to a very cool place for breakfast. They took us, but we paid. That’s what parents do.
Then Anna wanted to show us her favorite antique store in town. It was……..interesting. We knew that this was a one-of-a-kind antique store right at the door.
Like baskets? There were piles of baskets.
Or maybe dishes? There were stacks of dishes.
There were pots and vases as far as the eye could see.
There was a greenhouse in the back of the store….and a rocking chair…
Outside there was a real nice pile of pots.
Thankfully, they had an overflow shed. Look carefully: it’s full all the way up to the top window.
We had a great time with Dan and Anna.
They’ve gotten off to a good start.
Cake Pops Revisited
I distinctly remember saying, “I’m never going to make another cake pop as long as I live.” But that was last summer, when the freezer was overflowing with hundreds of the little rolled up bits of cake glued together with frosting. (See July 14, 2011 post “Wedding Countdown Day 30) How many did we make again? Was it 278…..or 354….or 1 kazillion? Today I discovered that making one batch of pops is rather enjoyable. There were three good reasons to revisit the world of cake pops this weekend.
1) A day after our daughter got married last August, Kate (a friend of mine who attended the wedding) unashamedly confessed to me that she must have eaten at least 10 cake pops at the reception. We discussed at length whether the chocolate, strawberry or vanilla treats were the better choice. She was ahead of me on that one – I had only sampled the vanilla, so I valued her expert opinion. I was so happy that someone had received such pleasure as a result of my hours of baking, rolling and dipping. Her appreciation just oozed and I thought, “Now here’s someone who deserves her own batch of cake pops someday.” Since it’s Kate’s birthday tomorrow, I decided now’s the time. I love cooking for people who ooze with appreciation.
2) Our niece, Meghan, got married today. The wedding was in Texas and we weren’t able to be there. She’s a dear, sweet girl and we love the whole family so much. PB asked if we could watch the wedding on Skype and they were able to pull it off! At about 2:00 this afternoon, PB came in from cleaning the garage, I washed pink candy coating off my hands, and we sat down to witness the blessed event. We were so grateful to be able to hear the wedding vows and see how beautiful Meghan looked on her wedding day. So I dipped a few cake pops in honor of Meghan and Randall.
3) This week a little friend of mine got a new baby sister. Maggy comes to the preschool Sunday school class and sits in the pew behind me in church. She has the longest darkest eyelashes you ever did see. Big sisters need their own bucket of cake pops, I’m positive.
I guess there’s one more reason…. I caught PB looking longingly at the row of fresh pops. Happening to find one with a crack in it, I asked him to please dispose of it, which he did with pleasure. He’s helpful like that.
a small drop of ink 