Sometimes when a problem is “out there”, waiting to be solved and yet I do not know how to solve it, perhaps it is not even my problem to solve, I get so restless I can hardly think of anything else. Even when I’ve done whatever I can and resolve to wait patiently, it doesn’t work. I keep thinking and wanting action.
Such was the case this week. Dr. Julia’s vet truck was acting up again and being very unreliable. There has been a lot of discussion about replacing it so she can work without getting stranded, having to borrow a vehicle. This time there was a decision made to swap the offending truck with the husband’s newer and bigger truck. And once all the involved parties were in agreement I wanted to get it done. I was barely able to hold back today while I cleaned the husband’s things out and washed his truck. I took it to get seat covers (what idiot decided white was a good color for the upholstery in a truck?!). I got the tires checked and the warning lights reset. I filled the windshield washer fluid to the full line. I vacuumed and sorted out all the loose change, napkins and register receipts from numerous fast food places (evidently they serve heart healthy items that are on his diet. Yeah….)
And then it seemed I was ready.
I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow.
I decided to make the trip right away and it surprised me that I could not wait..
Whereas I am often very patient, I am not at all that way in this kind of situation. I feel impulsive and a bit out of control. Maybe it’s because I am still a parent and want very much to help even though my adult child is very capable of handling this situation herself.
So, four hours later, I am in Jacksonville having made the trip safely with the help of a MacDonald’s coffee stop. I’m hoping to be able to rest now because there will be a lot to do tomorrow. As usual, just sayin’…
This post is for Gracie, my cousin twice removed (although that sounds so much more distant than we really are). Not too long ago we spent some time together and she brought her tablet along for something to do. We sat together and watched/listened to every version of “Let It Go” that was on youtube. Then we watched/listened to every parody of “Let It Go” on youtube. And this was all before she knew that I had never watched “Frozen” and had no clue what was being let go. She is my window on the world of present day childhood. So Gracie, I don’t think you’ve heard this one. It’s pretty good considering how quickly it must have been put together.
I woke up this morning with a vague memory of having published a post last night, in my sleep. I remembered trying to focus and finish the last few sentences with open eyes at least four times. It’s a little scary when you don’t remember what you wrote but you do remember hitting the publish button. I had to go to the site and read what I wrote. Blogging is not always easy. I can’t think of anything that’s always easy. Tonight I’m even more tired so this is a short one.
I realized yesterday what an eclectic world the internet makes available to me. In my everyday travels I meet only a few people and mostly ones of my same ethnicity and culture/world view. When I go to my blog reader I trade ideas and thoughts with such a variety of people that it is mind boggling. Hardly anyone is like me. And yet I can always find one or two things that we have in common, which is how we find each other. It is a marketplace for sure and my goal is to learn to express myself plainly while showing curiosity, compassion and encouragement to those I interact with. So many people, so many blogs, so many words… just sayin’.
Even though I did not get a lot of sleep the night before (might have been up late blogging) today was a day I enjoyed and for which I am thankful. I heard something inspiring and it just happened to be about change. More specifically, about being willing to change things in my own life in order to relate more to other people – to get to know them, to spend time with them, to come to love them. Sitting next to me at the time was an older man who, it struck me, was a good example of this. He was dressed pretty conservatively, except for his socks which were insanely wild and not shy about being seen. I surreptitiously took a picture of them with my cell phone when he wasn’t looking but evidently I wasn’t careful enough and got a picture of the inside of my bag instead. Sorry. You should have seen these socks. George H. Bush would have loved them. This guy was willing to be a bit quirky in order to spark interest, arouse the curiosity of the younger set and enter the world of high fashion. He stepped outside the realm of the average 70-80 year old and I’ll bet some good experiences have come from it. I remain inspired and have some new goals for this week.
Also at this same venue, I was given some letters addressed to me from two very precious women in Cambodia. One I had never met personally but in her letter she assured me that she knew all about me from others and had been praying for me. Her expression of love and encouragement, in a language not her own, was clear and confident. She is a caretaker in an orphan home in Phnom Penh. She sent a picture of herself. I can hardly wait to meet her someday.
The other letter was from a teen age girl I have known for several years. Her family gave her up to live in the orphan home, feeling she would be safer there. Her father had an alcohol problem and in her culture children in those circumstances are often abused or sold into slavery of one kind or another. She excitedly wrote about how her father had started learning about God, had quit drinking, was helping his wife at home and reading the Bible. This was a miracle we had been asking God to work out for years. I could feel her happiness. Change had brought it.
Lastly, I went to work this afternoon. My elderly client, Jack, has thrived in his own home over the last couple of months. He loves to invite people to have dinner with him at his favorite restaurants and tonight it was our turn to be blessed. I drove him to the Lucky Pelican where we met up with “the husband” for a great meal. Later, back at his home, I helped him get ready for sleep. I know it’s part of my job but it’s always a little strange for a grown-up to tuck another grown person into bed. I said “Good night, dear Jack” and he laughed and puckered up for a kiss. He has changed so much.
Change is at the heart of all these experiences today – our ability to change, and God’s ability to change us. He made the most miraculous change, giving up his God existence and living like a man, never again to be quite what he was before (becoming more, not less). Change like this is good (for us). I’m just sayin’ that I’m thankful for everything I’ve become aware of today, thankful there are so many people here on the planet to live with, to love and to pray for. Thankful for change.
I have not been pushing myself to write for many months and am feeling the need to challenge myself in some way. I want to see how many days in a row I can find a meaningful thought or experience to write about, starting yesterday.
Several months ago I had the opportunity to buy a boat, a kayak, something that I had wished to do for years. And even better, I had someone who also wanted to buy one, and go on outings with me. We bought our used boats and excitedly brought them home. Mark, my cousin, has gone out in his boat several times. He’s fitted it with ropes for his anchor, so he can fish without drifting. He’s renewed his fishing license. He’s been out enough times that he’s “settled in” to how the boat feels and he’s comfortable. Me? I’ve lent my kayak out to a friend for a month. That’s it.
So, last week we planned to go out on the water. We decided to explore the north end of Longboat Key, Florida since my boat was already out there. On the west of the key is the Gulf of Mexico. On the east side is the Intercoastal Waterway with it’s bridges, bayous and mangrove hammocks, and that was the side we were most interested in. It’s waters are calmer, more protected and have interesting features.
I have a lot of questions about my ability as a kayaker. I know enough about paddling to impress someone who has never done it at all, but I really don’t know how far I can paddle or what challenges there might be when someone starts going out a lot. I wonder if I could get lost (we didn’t). I wonder if I could end up in the wrong place and get run over by a yacht (didn’t happen either). I wonder if I could meet up with dangerous marine life (no). I wonder if I could get stuck in the shallows, capsize, get tangled in brush ( um.. nearly happened). For all these reasons, this first trip in my new (used) boat was a challenge, in it’s own way.
There was never a prettier day to be out in a boat
Mark and I started from different points with a plan to meet up in the middle. The first challenge was to time it right and not miss each other. That was actually pretty easy. Longboat Key has a lot of man made canals with houses along them, much like streets in a neighborhood. We paddled south looking at houses and seawalls for a while but that got boring. Boats were everywhere and the water didn’t look very clean, probably because the canals were deep and the bottom was dark. I don’t think I saw anything alive in the water either. I don’t blame the fish for not wanting to hang out there.
Mangroves grow right down into the water … no beach here.
We headed out across the boat channel to a more deserted looking island. It was mildly challenging to avoid all the speedboats and yachts navigating the channel, but kind of fun to ride the waves in their wake. The water started looking cleaner with a lot of sand bar area and beach with mangroves on the shore. Very pretty but still not much life in the water or on the shore. We got around the northern point of this little island and had the most fun of our outing.
A wide spot in the inlet where we could turn around…
We spotted a part of the interior of the island that had no trees. As we got closer we saw a narrow inlet – it looked like someone had swept a path about a yard wide through the foliage and mangrove roots. It was calling my name. The path had a current and it kept going further and further into the island. Lots of birds and lots of minnows. I would say it was like an estuary where fish go to be born and hide until they get big enough to make it on the outside. I was a little surprised to see that Mark had been able to follow. He weighs a bit more than I do and has a heavier kayak, and there were places where the water didn’t look more than eight to ten inches deep. We were able to get turned around and back out without having to get out and drag our kayaks, but it was a place where you could imagine that happening. Very interesting.
He’s fishing, but not catching.
The second really nice place was a little farther down the shore on this same island. The surface of the water was very calm in a small curved bay so it was easy to see when a school of mullet arrived. The water began to boil with ripples everywhere. Mullet love to jump. They are a very exuberant fish. They are the kind that actually might jump into your boat if you are quiet and stick around long enough. But you don’t catch them with a fishing pole – they don’t have eating on their little fish minds when they are like this. We watched for a while and then started the trip back.
The last task we had set for ourselves was to see if my kayak could be safely carried on the roof of my Mazda 3 (a rather small car). The answer is no, not without a roof rack. We did get it up there and strapped it down before Mark noticed that the roof was denting a bit. These are one person kayaks, but they are 13 feet long and hefty for one person to handle. My goal is to be able to load and unload by myself and I think I’ll be able to do it after I get a rack for my car. Now we know.
Having made an investment in this form of recreation, and I absolutely love it, I am challenging myself to get out there and get some good experience. And I love taking friends out with me if anyone wants to come – Mark and I agreed to share our kayaks if we had need for two. And I need to pick a name for my boat… what should it be?
“If we believe that God is everywhere, why would we not believe that he is in the smallest of coincidences? A coincidence is God’s way of remaining anonymous.” R. Zacharias
Walking along the street with my daughter and granddog, I reached up for the hundredth time and tucked my hair behind my ear. Only this time it was with immediate recognition that the gold hoop earring was not there. Did I just knock it off? Julie began searching the pavement while I checked the hood of my jacket and inside my shirt. I joined her and for a few minutes we searched the area, so obviously looking for something that a man walking by questioned us about it. What were we looking for? How big was it? This would make three times one of those earrings has fallen off and been labeled “LOST”. Since we had been walking for more than half an hour, over a couple miles of road, I didn’t think there was much point in looking for it at all. Oddly, I wasn’t terribly upset. I loved those hoops and in spite of the poor clasp I wore them all the time, so it was my own fault. This third time was inevitable.
However Julia, was not ready to quit looking. She verbalized a quick prayer for help and her willingness to plan the search won me over. We split up, turned on our phone flashlights and started retracing our steps. The park we walked in was like a maze and it was difficult to remember which side of the road, which direction, which street we had been on. It was also getting so dark that we could only see a small circle in front of us. As we finally joined each other and started out of the park, Julie jokingly said “that man will probably come with your earring.”
Actually there was a man approaching us with his flashlight on. And the first words we heard were “Girls, put your flashlights away.” He held out my earring and shone his flashlight on it. “It was very close to where I first saw you.” he told us. “I figured it must be kind of important, the way you were looking for it.” I think I hugged him.
As we walked home we began to think of all the coincidences involved in that experience. Why did I suddenly notice the absence when I didn’t really feel anything, hear anything hitting the ground? Interesting that I showed the man what it looked like – of several people I encountered he was the only one to ask or know. He didn’t ask our names or have any contact information for us. Had we left the park any earlier the chances of us meeting again would have been almost nothing. We almost did leave earlier and could have taken a different street than we did. It was pretty miraculous that we encountered him on our way out. Now you know why I like the definition of coincidence at the beginning of this post.
Today I’m going to check on getting a different clasp on my tricky hoops. At the same time I’m glad, grateful for the experience of losing a piece of jewelry since by it I had a chance to credit the God who loves me, in small ways. He is approachable, concerned, all-knowing and nothing is too small to discuss with him. He is perfect for someone like me who needs a lot of watching over… just sayin.
There are times when I feel so glued to the screen. When both of “my devices” are busy notifying, flashing messages and asking for my attention, it begins to feel like I can’t get enough. I get almost obsessed with staying in touch. Time to get outside and touch some real things.
Even though it’s Florida and we hardly ever get a freeze, I like to bring my orchids in for the winter. Every couple weeks I take them back out and spray them down, give them a good drink. That’s what I did today. I was surprised how many of them have bloom stalks that will soon be flowers, in addition to those already blooming. Taking care of my plants is part of the joy of having them – it is SO an antidote to computer paralysis. They are a dose of fresh beauty right from the hand of God.
Here are my beauties, and the marvel of the day is at the end. I think he lives there permanently.
just look at their cute faces…these deep purple ones are some of my favoritesTheir thick healthy roots really anchor them…and my little marvel.
and by that I mean, your upper respiratory infection, your virus, your bacteria gone wild in your body with all the gruesomeness that goes with it. I know I’m leaving out a lot of details. Be grateful.
The husband and I got our winter colds together, more or less, this year which actually makes things convenient in a way. We get quarantined together and only for half as long. And exciting because it is so rare, we share the same interests, which are mainly, tissues, Airborne, and cough meds.
I hold certain over the counter cold medicines in high esteem. King of the bunch is the red mixture of acetaminophen, dextromethorphan HBr, and doxylamine succinate known as NyQuil. It has to be red flavored. I always keep this on hand as well as a good supply of DayQuil for days when sleeping is not a good idea. In spite of all my admiration of meds I’m really kind of a natural remedy girl, and my most desired natural remedy is sleep. Sleep always helps me feel better, and NyQuil always helps me sleep. That is the connection.
We ran out.
The husband was at the big box pharmacy yesterday and decided to help out by seeing if I needed anything. Should he get some cough medicine, he wanted to know. Yes, yes, good idea. Get some more NyQuil. Make sure it is Nyquil. We have DayQuil. We have everything except NyQuil and I like the red kind. Did I say all this? I’m not going to swear that I did because it would only cause disagreement, but I think I did. And he certainly knew what we had before.
We are now well supplied with cold and flu remedies. We have NyQuil (green), two kinds of Robitussin, plus all the non-sleep cough medicine I had before and a new box of DayQuil. At the rate of one bottle per cold season we are set for the next six years. And the husband will get to drink all three big bottles of NyQuil because that green flavor (licorice?) won’t go down my throat. The red kind is bad enough.
Live and learn. We are both getting better, sleeping better, drinking lots of water and thanking God for bodies that heal, eventually. Hoping everyone else is getting through the cold/flu season too and just a hint… your might want to do your own shopping for cough syrup if you’re as fussy as I am. Just sayin’.
Ok, it’s my own fault. I should have gone myself. This is only part of the stash…
Today I was suddenly entrusted with delivering my 9 year old cousin (twice removed) to her play date at a friend’s house. She hadn’t had breakfast and the plan was to stop for a yogurt parfait at McD’s. I was mentally thinking of the best route for fast food on the way – these are roads I travel frequently.
Me: I think we will head toward the interstate and stop at the McDonald’s right near there. Ok?
Gracie: That’s fine.
Me: Is there anything else you’d like for breakfast? Is that all?
Gracie: Well, there is a Marathon gas station with a Dunkin’ Donuts right there and I really love their hash browns.
Me: So you are sure you are hungry enough for me to make an extra stop for hash browns?
Gracie: Yes, I’m pretty sure
I made it to the first stop without any trouble but on leaving I got in a lane that I wasn’t sure would lead to the hash browns.
Me: Oh, I think I’m in the wrong lane. I don’t know if I’ll be able to turn left again before the interstate.
Gracie: Yes, you can.
Me: I really don’t think there is another light to let me turn left.
Gracie: No there isn’t a light but there’s a place that you can wait in line and turn when there aren’t cars coming.
So you might not think this is a marvelous thing that a 9 year old should know where all the favorite fast food is – true it’s not. But how many know for certain the traffic patterns and how to navigate them when they have never been drivers? I didn’t know there was a left turn opportunity there, for cryin’ out loud! This is also the child that shows me all the short cuts through the neighborhood “the way Daddy goes”. I have been with teens and adults who couldn’t direct me to places they go to ALL THE TIME because they don’t pay attention when someone else is driving.
I’m just sayin’ I know who I want riding with me when I start to forget where I live.
And I also want to remember where this gas station is.
I remember the night I first saw this ring… back when it still fit.
It’s the number of consecutive years that the husband and I have been married as of this coming Wednesday. We’ve been thinking about it a lot this year, and by that I mean I’ve been thinking about it and when I’ve brought the subject up the husband doesn’t run away. He’s actually listened and conversed on the subject. I think we are both in agreement that we need to be more deliberate, purposeful, in our way of commemorating the decision we made those long years ago.
It is not an easy thing to do – this commemorating stuff. We both come from plain, work oriented backgrounds, families that didn’t put a lot of stock in celebrating. We had some imaginative ideas the first few years but after the demands of child rearing and careers interfered we didn’t try as hard. I can’t say that there is one main thing that both the husband and I like to do together either (I don’t count eating) and that always added to the dilemma. I like planning and surprises, which are both like words in a foreign language to the husband. He likes…. I don’t know what he likes. When he makes suggestions, I seriously wonder if he knows what he likes anymore. So why do we bother?
Because it really has been kind of an amazing thing – this partnership of two so disparate personalities. Not a day goes by anymore that I don’t see somewhere evidence of pain, suffering and inconvenience from failed relationships and broken covenants. But here we are, still together, with no desire for it to be otherwise. I feel sad that in the coming years marriages of forty, fifty, sixty or more years are going to be a rare occurrence. Our forty two years haven’t all been a 10 on the happiness scale but that was more due to life circumstances other than marriage, and probably would have been much lower had we been going it alone.
I guess what we are really wanting to acknowledge to ourselves and to others is that covenant love is so vastly different from what our society calls love. It’s a decision, a promise, a grounding, a secure, known place where two people can know they belong, no matter what. It’s meant to mirror the love covenant that God wants to have with the people he created.
People laugh at me for calling Dennis “the husband” but there’s more to that label than you might think. He’s not just “a husband”, he’s the husband meant for me. I’ve had times when I honestly couldn’t think of why God brought us together BUT even then I was sure that he had. I’m still sure (and I’m still trying to find out why God brought us together…) The beautiful thing is that we really do love each other based on something outside ourselves, outside our feelings, apart from our circumstances and we’ve seen the blessing that has been.
I have somewhat romantic, idealistic female children and I think they sometimes see the husband and I as having this lack luster, boring existence. They might even wonder if we love each other, which is not good in this day of “the best thing you can do for your children is to love their mother/father” mantra. That is perhaps one of the most important reasons I want to make it a special year. I want my girls to know that we do care deeply for each other, and for them, for our family. We might not have planned the cruise of a lifetime, or renewed our vows in a big ceremony, bought each other expensive gifts or spent the week’s food budget on a night out at a restaurant. We might actually watch TV till 8pm, take our dose of NyQuil and try to go to sleep without coughing ourselves to death – it’s been that kind of a week. But we love each other, and we know it… once again, just sayin’
I Just Have to Say... 