Month: October 2015

Mirror, mirror…

Shirleyjdietz2 Comments

Disclaimer: don’t think I’m suggesting that anyone do this at home. I’m not. 

I’ve been learning some new things as a result of my latest remodeling project.  Some of these things about mirrors you might want to know someday so here goes…

Our house was built by a contractor who also did a lot remodeling jobs for other people, and of course he salvaged a lot of useful things. Things like mirrors. Shortly after we moved in he offered us some mirrors that he thought were way too good to throw away and we took them.  Back then we were still in the stage of life when we took anything that didn’t have a price tag on it.  For years now I have had a 4′ x 6′ heavy (HEAVY) piece of reflective glass leaning against the wall in my rec room. I only mind it when I have to clean behind it because it can hardly be moved.  I also have a triple mirror medicine cabinet attached to the wall in the master bedroom because that was the only wall big enough to hold it.  It’s wider than our king size bed and at least four feet tall.

The master bath is our present project and from it we removed a 4′ x 7′ mirror which has been leaning against the wall in the hall.  Getting a bit overwhelmed with large mirrors, I began to investigate what might be done with them.  The answer is, not much.  They are heavy, as I mentioned, and actually dangerous.  They aren’t made from safety glass so if they break the pieces are sharp and unpredictable.  You don’t just throw them in your pick up truck either.  They require a special method of transport.  I thought maybe I could use half of one mirror in the remodeled bath but the glass and mirror company would charge me $100 to come to my home and cut it.

A couple days ago I got tired of looking at the monstrosity in the hall and began to think about where I could put it, out of my way, until another day.  Because I don’t like to be talked out of my plans to move heavy, awkward furnishings, I don’t usually tell anyone I’m going to do it. I think about the plan at night when I should be sleeping or during random times in the day, until I know what I’m going to do, and then, I wait until the perfect time to carry out the plan.

The perfect time was last Tuesday after the remodeling handyman left.  I could have asked him to help but I’m thinking there will be lots of years when I have to ask people for help and I don’t want to start too soon and wear them out.  I had decided to put the mirror in the rec room since there was already one odd, huge mirror there anyway. They could kind of balance each other. I cleared the path of furniture and rugs and slid some of those handy, plastic furniture sliders under the edges of the mirror – let’s just give him a name. Waldo, I think.

Waldo and I successfully slid down the hall and into the rec room.  This was the first place there was room to put him flat on the floor.  Why do this, you ask?  Wally had been sitting on his long side in the hall and I needed him to stand up in order to fit in the spot I had chosen for him.  We do not have cathedral ceilings anywhere in our house, which means that in order to stand him up without hitting the ceiling, I had to lay him down first and then raise him up on his short side.  Those of you who have moved big bookcases or other tall things will know exactly what I’m talking about.  It’s an art.

You might be expecting this story to end in a display of cracked glass and a bloody trip to the ER, but no.  I planned well, and would have had no trouble at all if it had not been for the ceiling fan which I forgot to figure into the equation.  I was shaking from the exertion but quite satisfied with the end result, Waldo, leaning against the wall behind a dresser.  I’m just sayin’, I needed a mirror there anyway, right?

Waldo the mirror, after his trip down the hall.
Waldo the mirror, after his trip down the hall.

Phil is Brave

ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment

There are all kinds of bravery in the world today.  We pay a lot of attention to some who are brave but we miss some of the ones that are brave in the background.  That is why we have special days like Father’s Day, Mother’s Day, Administrative Assistant Day, Nurse’s … well, you get the idea.  October is almost over and I nearly missed formally appreciating a few brave people who do what they do without much financial reward, not always much affirmation, no guarantee of regular work hours and very few weekends off.

Their work bleeds over into their families.  Their wives, kids and homes are scrutinized.  They have to make tough decisions for stubborn people and deal with the fallout.  They pretty much have to be nice all the time, even when they don’t feel like it. They have to encourage others when they don’t feel encouraged themselves. They have to get uncomfortable and confront others from time to time. They accept stress as part of their job. They are regular people who for one reason or another have felt that God wanted them to be a minister, so they work for him.  God finds them a church and they get busy doing what ministers do.  They are brave.

So, Phil, Justin, Bill and Dave (you know who you are…) God is not the only one who sees these things you are and do.  He sees everything, but I see some of it too.  I benefit every week from the time and effort you put into your jobs and I’m glad to be able to tell you that.  I’m thankful for the times we’ve spent talking about important (sometimes not) things.  I appreciate your families and the way they add to what you’re doing.

Most of all, I want to thank you all for being real, genuine, sincere people and not hiding your “human-ness” from us.  You tell us that you struggle just like we do.  It takes courage to be transparent.  Thank you for being under the authority of your real boss – I’m sure that’s where your confidence comes from.  Happy October, Pastor Appreciation Month.

Oddly enough, the title of this post highlights the reason I remembered to write tonight.  I was thinking how brave Phil is, every once in a while, when he gets up in front of people to speak wearing his bow tie.  

Get some clothes on…

Shirleyjdietz1 Comment

Get some clothes on.

I taught my children to get dressed fairly early on in their childhood, thinking it would serve them well in the future. Sure enough, to this very day they almost always get dressed at some point in their day and everyone is glad because of it. The training has been worth it. It had purpose behind it. I hoped that they would be able to function well in society and not have to waste time in adulthood over issues so elementary as clothing. (I’m not saying that they don’t grimace at some of those early pictures and say “Mom, how could you let me wear that?!”)

Why did you let me dress this way, why? (You were learning...)
Why did you let me dress this way, why? (You were learning…)

I’m thinking about the word discipline, and the hard times we go through. If God has us in his sights, he promises that we are going to be under discipline. He says it’s his fatherly duty, like any parent who teaches a child something in order for them to make it through life. I’m sometimes tempted to substitute the word “punishment” for discipline, but punishment is only one element of a much larger picture. I wasn’t punishing my daughters in teaching them to get dressed. But interestingly, it may have felt that way to them at times.

I’m going through some hard times lately. Almost on a daily basis there is something happening that could be described as painful – physically, emotionally and/or spiritually. I have to ask myself if I’m being punished or trained. Either way, I’m told by the entity I consider to be my father that it is because I’m loved and he wants me to be ready, calm and peaceful, and productive in the future. He tells me I will think it is painful, but that he wants me to be encouraged by it because it WILL have good results.

When hard times go on far longer than I would think necessary for effective discipline, it’s tempting to think there’s no point to it, no loving father behind it, probably no end in sight. This point of despair and giving up is exactly what I am being trained to beat. To be an overcomer, means I’ve had practice dealing with things that are hard to overcome. It’s hard to wait. I can get really tired of words like patient endurance and long suffering. That’s why the words jumped out at me this morning, “you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood”. Oh, yeah.

I’m just saying that having this perspective from a source I take to be credible, actually does encourage me and make me feel like I am loved even in a hard place. I’m not expected to always solve the problems I’m facing. I don’t have to figure out what’s going on. All I have to do is acknowledge that a capable God sees and is at work in my situation. I get to be expectant, cooperative, alert, watchful for that purpose that might be behind it all. I’m learning to get dressed for the future – a good thing.

*My credible source this morning was the word of God, a letter written to Hebrews, chapter 12 and verses 4 – 11 .  These people had it rough too and God was encouraging them through their pastor, a man named Paul.

McMaster Carr and other helpers

ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment

I am taking a break this noon while my pain killers take hold.  It is yard clean-up day week.  Let me introduce you to McMaster Carr who has helped me in my job.

Thank you McMaster Carr for this neat bundle of fire starting paper.
Thank you McMaster Carr for this neat bundle of fire starting paper.

McMaster Carr is a company that makes and sells virtually everything that other things are made from – every little tube, bolt, bushing, wheel, piece of metal, plastic, rubber or glass that you can think of.  Every year they send out this huge, six inch thick catalog, of which I have three.  I use them for various purposes, most having to do with how well they weight things down.  But today I discovered that they make excellent fire starters.  I have enough paper to start my recreational fires (I have to call them that – explain later) for the rest of my life and probably the first few years of eternity.  Fires are an important part of my clean up, or at least they are fun.

I started yesterday and quickly got overwhelmed with all that had to be trimmed and taken out of the way before I could even mow in the oneacrewoods.  Things got a little out of hand, you might say, over the summer.  But I did make a little bit of progress and  decided to adjust my attitude.  I’ll not be overwhelmed, I’ll just work at it real hard for a week and then it will be winter and most things will go dormant, I hope.  I can do this.

This is awful.
This is awful.
This is awful too.
This is awful too.
This is trying to get better, but it's still awful.
This is trying to get better, but it’s still awful.

I’ve pretty much stopped trying to grow food, unless you count the pineapples that I grow for the unnamed animal who eats most of them. And I’ve kind of stopped trying to grow anything ornamental, unless it volunteers.  I can keep completely busy just deciding what I will not allow to grow and removing it. Really, that’s all I do now is take things out and burn them.  Now you know why fires are so important.

God knew what he was doing when he put the first people in a garden.  There aren’t many things as satisfying as takiing something as beautiful as nature, and then organizing and cleaning it up a bit.  Nature can go a certain distance toward keeping herself beautiful and there are some fine examples of that in the oneacrewoods, but it’s often every plant for itself and that can get wicked.  Someone, me, has to be in charge and keep peace between them.  God called it “dressing and keeping” – good description.

Here is an example of a plant that arranges itself in such a lovely way...
Here is an example of a plant that arranges itself in such a lovely way…

My other helpers are various rusting implements, bought at garage sales and held together with duct tape, several tarps that I use to pull debris from one place to another, and my Toro mower (the one piece of equipment that I brag about here). Without this stuff, well, we don’t need to go to that dark place…

This year I’m going to take pictures after I’m done and hope I can see how much better the yard looks. I have to add that a couple weeks ago when I was outside on the driveway an oak tree threw a fairly large limb at me and barely missed. I’m just saying, I sometimes wonder if plants have a different perspective on my activities.  But, I’m not ready to call it war yet.

This is what I do to tree limbs that don't stay put, grrr!
This is what I do to tree limbs that don’t stay put, grrr!

Okay, I have scared a few people…

Shirleyjdietz4 Comments

This has nothing to do with Halloween, or playing “chicken” on the highway.  I’ve been waiting patiently for the last week for something I wanted to write, and then something popped up.  An online survey by a friend was investigating the complaint by some women, 55 and older, that younger women just don’t seem to “see” them anymore.  And this is what started me thinking about being scary.  Obvious connection, right?

I can remember being younger.  I can remember being in the middle.  I am older now and I will tell you that everyone suffers a bit from feeling that others don’t “see” them.  We are all overtaken at times with the feeling that we are invisible,that others are rushing past us to talk to someone else. I think I’ve figured out why it happens.  It’s because conversation, talking to people, is hard work.  It not only takes a degree of self-awareness, it  takes being interested in and curious about others.

Age difference is an element (here’s the part where I scare people.)  Once when I was the mother of teen girls, a boy came to the door of my house wanting to see one of my daughters.  I think I asked him some pretty relevant questions, like “who are you?” and “tell me a little about yourself”.  The fact that I was direct and wanted a minute of conversation was frightening to him.  He told my daughter she had a scary mom.  He told me also, later, after we knew each other better.

I do find age differences and status differences intimidating.  I remember thinking older women were more experienced at their jobs, or their child rearing, or homemaking. They were doing things so much more important than I was.  Now I find myself thinking that younger people are so much smarter, quicker and tech savvy. They’ve been writing computer programs since first grade probably.  I’m afraid everybody else is too busy to engage.  I’m worried about looking and sounding stupid or boring. And although I’m sorry to admit it I’m often more comfortable with my “devices” than I am with the people I’m supposedly connecting with.  Uh oh.

However, I do have strategies, because I do LOVE TO CONNECT with others, younger or older.  Sometimes I crave the company of my young friends and love that they come over unannounced and interrupt me.  I want to tell them that they are more important than anything else I’m doing.  And that’s my strategy – I tell them.  And if it’s you I’m talking about and you haven’t been over for a while, please don’t be afraid to show up.

Other things that work well are telling people they are doing something really cool (if they are), or that they look really good (if they do). Do this to strangers that you find interesting and they will most likely be glad to talk about themselves. This is hard for me when I don’t feel like I’m interesting to others, but often this feeling of being uninteresting is just a feeling, and a false one at that.  I can make myself get over it (almost all the time).

One more strategy, and it’s one I’m still working at remembering.  This one is what I should use with people I know well when we have deeper conversations that involve stronger emotions (think mother/daughter, wife/husband) .  It is always good not to look scary.  Sometimes I look scary and I don’t even know it, or my body language is intimidating or disrespectful.  Fortunately, those who love me, tell me.  Hey, get your intense face on and go look in the mirror.  Would you find that an invitation to connect?

Be scared, be very scared....
Be scared, be very scared….

My main point is that we all have valuable things to say to each other.  We need to find out why we don’t always say those things and why we don’t always foster helpful, supportive relationships – and then it would be good if we did something to turn that around.  What turn around strategies do you have?

All in the Details

Shirleyjdietz1 Comment

Details, details

I know what a gateway and an alcove is. I have an idea what a portico is. Parapet, maybe? But really, trying to come up with a picture that looks like a building from the description in Ezekiel chapter 40, I just can’t do it. They are all mentioned over and over again, complete with measurements, in all four quadrants of the compass, and oh, throw in several sets of stairs, some courtyards and miscellaneous openings too.

Mom and I were sitting in the airport restaurant with some time to spare and this chapter was today’s reading from the Old Testament, NIV Bible. What was troubling to me, was verse four of the same chapter where our prophet Ezekiel was told that all this detail was important for some reason. He was supposed to “listen closely and pay attention” so he could tell people everything he saw. Trying to figure out stuff like this has always been part of what makes Bible reading problematic for me.

Later, on the way home from the airport, I started thinking about it again – which is always a good thing to do if you have asked God to help you understand something. Here was a man who had a vision of some kind. It could have been a dream, but I don’t think I’ve heard of anyone dreaming with this kind of detail and then remembering it. He’s inspired to record it and it is somehow preserved for a loooooong time for people to read later and wonder about the detail in it. I know people who would say there is great significance in all the measurements and numbers and that may be. For me, what jumps out is that God was clearly caring about a lot of details.

You know, just maybe he wanted us to know that about him. Maybe he is a “detail guy”.

Perhaps, when he’s asked to help plan, he is able to arrange events and time them so that over the summer I am able to travel four different areas of the world with just enough energy and finances to suffice.

Perhaps he is able to move people in and out of my life to allow for me to be helpful, but not overwhelmed by all the stress and travel.

Perhaps he can bring me together with family members for some significant relational time, even though the arrangements are complicated.

Perhaps he can make possible a stay at a cottage by the beach for mom and me, when my remodel project isn’t finished yet.

Perhaps he can handle a delayed flight (maybe he even arranged it) that ended up with mom getting a better non-stop flight home, with the window seat she kind of longed for. And maybe he put the right person in front of us, apparently waiting for us, who was able to come up with that idea and make it happen. (Thank you Delta!)

I wanted more pictures of mom and me together and we had time for one more lame “selfie”. (Mom says I don’t really look like that. Would someone please take some candid pics of us doing something besides looking at a cell phone camera?)

We do this.
We do this.
And this...
And this…
And this.
And this.

And how we enjoyed the extra time that allowed us to eat a leisurely breakfast together and read Ezekiel 40. I’m just sayin’, God is pretty detail oriented and this is not the first time I’ve noticed.

Feast of what?!

Shirleyjdietz1 Comment
My nephew Evan, outside Harbor Landing
My nephew Evan, outside Harbor Landing

I am in Destin, Florida which is a beautiful resort island on the Gulf of Mexico. I am staying in a gorgeous four bedroom condo on the 9th floor with a view of the waterway and the city on one side, and a view of the ocean on the other. I am roommate to my Mom, who is visiting from Wisconsin and together we are staying with my brother’s family. I am surrounded by those I love. We are here because it is the Feast of Tabernacles.

It is always a bit complicated to explain to others about Christians who keep the holidays given in the Bible. In the past I have spent many years keeping Passover, Day of Atonement, Feast of Tabernacles and the weekly sabbath (which, by the way, means seventh day). I respect, which is the best word I can think of right now, these practices even though I do not celebrate them currently in the same way. I think there are rich things to learn by observing them. And perhaps the most influential thing to me is found in the Bible in the book of Zechariah, chapter 14, verse 16, where it says, prophetically, that every survivor of whatever is ahead will go to Jerusalem to celebrate the Feast of Tabernacles, year after year.

If it’s going to be important then, why should it not be important now? I believe Biblical prophecies have an amazing track record of coming to pass, so I want to stay in touch with these days that clearly originated with God and seem to be significant.

Today we went to church and the message was about grace. People who keep anything associated with the Old Testament are always being accused of trying to earn God’s favor by the things they do or don’t do. There are probably some who are doing this. But many people I know from my years in “the cult”, so called, are simply wanting to become more like the Jesus that they know and love. I’m all for that. I also know many people in the Christian circles that I’m part of today that feel the same way even though it does not lead them to keep days like the Feast of Tabernacles. We are all in different places, having differing perspectives. That is God’s problem and he knows what idiots we all are when it comes to faith and spiritual things. I’m thinking he will find a way to get us all together when he wants to.

But for those who are curious and want to know how “average Joe’s” like our family come to stay in a million dollar condo – it is because God set up a system called “saving your money”. People who follow these holidays save up roughly a tenth of their yearly income to be spent in one week. It is also biblically based and represents a future time of abundance of everything good that is also prophesied to come. You might think that this is hard, maybe impossible in the present economy, but people do it. Actually it is not nearly as ridiculous as spending the whole month of December shopping and being in debt for months after paying for what you made Christmas to be about.

As I said, I am here spending some precious time with my mom, and my brother’s family. We are all away from home and our every day responsibilities. We are talking, having meals together, thinking about our faith lives, and being grateful to God who provides these opportunities. I’m just saying that it’s beautiful here and I’m having a really great time.

For travel enthusiasts, this is a really great destination if you love the beach and ocean!  Here are some scenes…

There are hundreds of places to stay within sight of beautiful white sand beaches.
There are hundreds of places to stay within sight of beautiful white sand beaches.
My nephew, Buck, brought his boat for family time on the water.
My nephew, Buck, brought his boat for family time on the water.
An evening ride out to the breakwater.
An evening ride out to the breakwater.
Lots and lots of dolphins swim with the boat...
Lots and lots of dolphins swim with the boat…
Evening sunsets that are amazing.
Evening sunsets that are amazing.
The peaceful view from a balcony. Love it here...
The peaceful view from a balcony. Love it here…

Ode to Zoe

Shirleyjdietz4 Comments

wpid-wp-1443801946646.jpeg

 

Zoe, I always thought your name was a little unusual

but that it was suitable for a cat who was not the usual kind.

I could not determine if you were strange to me because

of your breed or because of your life experience.

Long of leg, large of body, small in head – your were not

the cat we photographed often. Your stare was unsettling.

 

 

I knew you when you belonged to your previous owners,

a beast barely tolerated by some, and you busied yourself

staying out of the way of dogs and scratching leather furniture.

When your claws were removed, and you could not defend yourself

they were afraid to let you outdoors. You were famous for

filling the litter box all too quickly, and making loud noises in the night.

 

 

You came to us when others became allergic. We took you

in for love of them and not out of love for you. I don’t

think you loved us. I knew you when you were overweight,

and your hair came out in great clumps. I knew you when

you chewed yourself bloody where the fleas congregated.

You didn’t look at us very often, you didn’t look happy.

 

 

But for all your mess, things we had to wash up, scrape off

and deodorize, for all the times when you fought the other

cat and left fur all over the room (you both were gray and we

could not tell who had won), we began to love you. You stopped

eating desperately and became slim. Your fur became soft

and easy to pet. And you watched us differently.

 

 

You learned to go through the cat door, to love the outside

and to run to the sound of your automatic feeder. Your favorite

place was on the man where he was soft and warm and you purred.

The man gave you special food and doted on you. You made loud

noises looking for him, often in the night when you were lonely.

I loved that you went outside and no longer used the litter box.

 

 

You no longer needed to look out for the other cat (she died)

and you relaxed and all the space became yours. You only ran from

the vacuum cleaner and small children. You and the man became

very much alike, with your routines and the places you camped

out as you watched television and napped. You were all the animal

we had and I guardedly say that we enjoyed you most of the time.

 

 

Today, you are gone. I am sad, but especially the man is missing you.

Feeling that you may have had a terrible fright at the end and violence.

We would not have chosen that for you but neither would have had you

be ill and lingering and miserable. As I said, you were never impressive

for your looks and not much photographed. But you were loved and

part of our family, even though your stare was still a bit unsettling.

Zoe
Zoe