the time we have

In April of this year we traveled to Indiana to visit my mother who was living in a nursing home. It had been 5 months since we had seen her last. Whenever I visited her I would bring a crochet project with me to work on while sitting with her. She would ask me what I was working on and what were the stitches that I was using. She would give me some tips and help me with my crocheting.  Over the years I had made her two blankets and two triangle shawls, but on this day she asked for a specific item. She asked if I would make her a Pocket Shawl because she was always cold and wanted something to wrap around her shoulders, and the pockets were for her tissues.  I immediately began to look for patterns and we discussed what colors she would like.

Upon our arrival back home, I went to the craft store looking for just the right yarn for the pattern that I had found. She always loved pinks and purples and that is what I found in this variegated bulky weight yarn. I began making the shawl but unfortunately life gets in the way and I was not able to work on it as much as I would have liked to. It took longer than I wanted in order to get it done. Of course you think to yourself that you have all the time in the world so there is no rush. I finally finished the shawl in the middle of July. 

I was preparing to mail the shawl to my mother when I got the phone call that no one wants to receive. My mother had developed pneumonia and the end was not that far away. At that point "all the time in the world" becomes days.

Mother passed away on July 29.

I took the shawl with me when we went back to Indiana for the funeral. I had all of these ideas of what to do with it. My nieces had asked to have the blankets that I had made for her so I wondered would they want the shawl too. I also thought about giving it to one of her friends there in the nursing home. In the end I just couldn't seem to part with it.

I now have the shawl in my crochet cupboard along with a granny square blanket and two other blankets, one made by my grandmother and the other two by my mother. They were crocheted for me so I cherish them. I know now, from my working on my own projects, just how much time, energy and love goes into something that you make for a loved one.

The tradition of crocheting has been taught and handed down through out the generations. How many I don't know because I am sure my grandmother's mother had taught her. I want to continue that tradition of making items for the ones that you love.

I have decided to keep the shawl. even though it will not be able to provide her the warmth I was hoping for, it provides me the remembrance of my mother's love and my love for her. It also helps me to remember that we don't really have "all the time in the world". It is really about the now's and the love we put in to the time we have.  

(Read this post to see the blankets that my grandmother and mother had made for me. Blankets )

Pocket Shawl pattern by Naztazia (YouTube)

 

the blue sneakers

 

Days seemed grander then. The sun would burst through the window each morning as an invitation to a new adventure. These were the days before darkness fell by way of school. 

My blue sneakers leaped upon my feet. With them I too could leap across my bed, the floor and the grass. Light as air, faster than a speeding bullet. Fast, faster, fastest. All I had to do was will it and my sneakers took me there. I still see them clearly, though eyes fail and memories fade. Blue sneakers, I think they call them Cons or Chucks now. In 1955 they were flying machines that changed days into adventures, moved walking to running and running to leaping.

Blue sneakers could hide the coming of dark days a little longer. I did not know, what child could, that I would grow out of those sneakers too soon. With them I would grow out of the adventures they took me on. Those shoes held me to a glorious summer. The last summer in some ways. That summer the sun was brighter, days early and longer. Nights came but they came with a welcome rest when legs can't find another mountain to climb. As mornings grew colder, tread grew thinner and the blue sneakers began to tarnish, fade and lose their luster.

The fateful day came. One dark dreary morning I had to put upon my feet a new shiny pair of leather shoes. Why? Why did the summer have to end? Why does any summer end and why would anyone wear shiny leather shoes? They seemed like a punishment for something I did wrong. Flying about in blue sneakers had seemed the rightest thing I had ever known. Now I am sentenced to waking up before the sun, putting pain on my feet and walking, never running, all day.

Now, though eyes fail and memory fades, I understand better why seasons change and why not all days carry summer in them. And I know that blue sneakers can still bring a bit of summer into your feet and adventure into your day.

(written by the Preacher)

one last blanket

 

This little baby blanket has a story behind it.

My mother is in a nursing home due to a severe stroke that weakened her legs and her hands. She no longer can stand on her own and her arms and hands won't move as they should. So she has lost the ability to do the things that she enjoyed in the past.

All my life I remember my mother doing one type of craft or another. She was always sewing, crocheting, embroidering; she even painted a mural on our living room wall. But the one thing she did the most was crocheting. I am sure she had learned this art form from her mother, my grandmother. Through out the years my mother crocheted a blanket for all of us kids and as her family grew she made sure to crochet a blanket for each grandchild and great grandchild, as did my grandmother. Here is a picture of the blankets I have from my mother (second in the pile and bottom) and grandmother (middle). The top blanket is the one that she made for her great grandchild.

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Fourteen months ago our son and his wife gave birth to my mother's third great grandchild. At that time my mother told me that she wished she had her crocheting hooks and yarns with her. I wasn't sure why she wanted to begin crocheting again, but I thought it couldn't be a bad thing, it could help in her therapy. So I went out and bought her a crochet hook and a couple of skeins of yarn.

Last month I flew out to visit her. This was our first visit since the nursing home had completely opened from being locked down from Covid. One day while I was there she asked me to look in a gift bag that she had tucked behind her bed. In it I found a half completed baby blanket. She told me that she had used one of the skeins of yarn but she just didn't feel like she could finish the blanket due to her hands hurting. She asked me to finish it for her and then give it to her new great grandbaby. 

It was important to her because I'm sure, even though she didn't say it, she knew this would be the last blanket that she would ever make for her children. This makes me sad because I know that she is in her last days, but I admire her for trying to make just one more. 

this is what makes for a happy and peaceful life

Galveston Island, Texas, January 2021

 

"I just don't think I'm looking for the big moments in life anymore. It's more the simple ones that make for a beautiful day now. Like the sun rising and the moon dancing, and the wind singing and the leaves grooving, and kids laughing and music playing, butterflies twirling, heart-smiles staying -- and me being present to witness all these little beautiful things. This is what makes for a happy and peaceful life. I'm sure.

S.C. Lourie

Bella Grace Magazine

After reading this quote, I realized that it was exactly how I was feeling while on our winter vacation in Galveston this past month. On this trip I just wanted to slow down and enjoy every little thing, relax either in our travel trailer, on a pier over looking the Gulf, or on our bikes riding through the wonderful architecture of this beautiful old town.

So I ask you to slow down and really take a look around you, not at the big things of life, but at the small things, things you might not even think are important. Leaving your heart open for God to speak to you and then maybe you too will find a more happy and peaceful life. I'm sure.

 

heritage

 "and this is the part where you find out who you are"

                                                                                                                 May 29, 1954

christmas cards

I was cleaning the house today, putting away the last of the Christmas decorations and I gathered up the Christmas cards that the Preacher and I had received during the holidays. As I was going through them one last time before packing them away, I began to think about how great it was that people still mail out Christmas blessings. 

In today's time of social media it is very easy to just send out Christmas wishes through our social platforms. And while I type this I am really talking to myself. Every year for the last several years, I have said that this year I will sit down and write out Christmas greetings to all of my family and friends. Then the days move on fast and I feel defeated that I didn't get it done.

Christmas cards were special during the years of my growing up. We enjoyed going out to the mailbox and seeing how many cards we would receive. The most special card for my mother and I was the card that she would receive from her pen pal who lived in England. The fact that our family who was living in the middle of Indiana would receive a card from across the world was exciting. 

The amount of cards that we receive has diminished over the years but I have some family that sends them out faithfully every year and if they stopped sending the cards I think that would make me sad. We also receive cards from old friends and it is good to see pictures of their children growing and knowing that they are doing well.

So through this post we want to say thank you to those who sent us Christmas blessings.

We love you all!

brave

 

One day last week, the Preacher and I were in our office discussing the things that we needed to do before our Sunday's worship service. The Preacher became silent and I could tell he had something on his mind. He then said, "In order to keep church going through these crazy times, you have to be brave. I can forgo the restaurants--that's not worth the risk, but church, it's worth the risk."

Brave? I never thought of that word being associated with opening the church doors on a Sunday morning. 

The mainstream media had told us that if we went outside and touched another person or breathed the air, air that someone else has breathed, we could potentially die, people had panicked. We went from joking about hoarding toilet paper to actually hiding in our houses. The world, our world, shut down. So the church had to change the status quo as to how the Word was preached.

We continued our discussion for a while and then we went on to our daily duties. As the week went on the word 'brave' kept repeating in my mind. I began hearing Nicole Nordeman's song, "Brave", running through my head.

"The gate is wide, the road is paved in moderation  The crowd is kind and quick to pull you in  Welcome to the middle ground  You're safe and sound and until now it's where I've been.

'Cause it's been fear  That ties me down to everything  But it's been love, Your love  That cuts the strings

So long status quo, I think I just let go  You make me wanna be brave  The way it always was is no longer good enough  You make me wanna be brave" 

And then, as the Lord always does when He wants to teach me something, two articles came across my computer screen. 

Susie Hawkins from namb.net writes

"(1) Bravery is faith fearlessness, (2) Bravery demonstrates trust, (3) Bravery takes risks.   C.S. Lewis said, "Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point...a chastity or honesty or mercy which yields to danger will be chaste or honest or merciful only on conditions. Pilate was merciful till it became risky". And as he points out, kingdom-minded lives require us to be brave in living out all biblical principles, even challenging conditions. In fact that is exactly where "true bravery" occurs. 

 Laura Stephens Reed, from laurastephensreed.com writes:

"Prior to the pandemic, a number of clergy were working under unrealistic expectations, whether those came from their congregations or from their own internal "shoulds". And then in March they had to change the ways they did nearly everything and fast. They became not just preachers but tech experts with all that entails: recording, editing, sound mixing, lighting, inviting people to and teaching them how to participate in and managing online meetings, exploring the most accessible social media platforms, and monitoring cyber security. They spend many hours trying to get all of this right because worship and Bible study and fellowship are so critical, not knowing that they'd have to continue all that they started beyond a few weeks, often without much help from others. The effects of all these difficulties are taking their toll. They have deepened pre-existing fault lines and created new ones. Clergy who already had some sense of discontent now have one foot out the door, and some who were happy are seriously questioning whether their current context is still a good fit. The result, I predict, is going to be a tidal wave of pastoral departures once churches re-gather, and maybe sooner depending on how long the pandemic rages on. Church folks, this time is hard for everyone, It's hard for you and it's hard for your pastor." 

 Yes it has been hard and tiring. There were some days when the Preacher and I were very tired from trying to keep it all going as if there was nothing wrong. 

But brave? Did we feel brave? No.

The Preacher has taken precautions due to some breathing issues but he loves the Word of God and loves his congregation. So he will continue to be brave for the Word and for you.

 

 

out of the stump

Five years ago we were searching for a new home. We came across a nice 2-story house and while walking through the house with the previous owner, she took us outside to show us her flower gardens and she turned to one of the trees in the yard. Actually it was just a stump. She explained that it had not flourished and had begun to die so her husband decided to cut out the dead limbs but left the last main stump of what was once a pretty tree.

After purchasing the home we thought about going ahead and cutting the tree stump completely down. But with the busyness of moving in and with everyday life and work we forgot about our plans of cutting it down.

So the stump sat there during the long, cold winter just waiting for the spring. And in the spring we began to notice that there was new life coming up out of that old stump. So we decided to leave it and see what might come of the once dead stump.

Now after these five years all that is left of the stump is a dried, dead log. You can see what is left in the above picture. But as you can see, there is a healthy tree surrounding that stump. New life came back from the dead.

Sometimes we may feel cut off and cut out. But you can't stop God. He is there waiting to make you new again.

You were made by Him in His image as His child. He has been waiting for you since the beginning of time to grow and to look up to Him. Just as the trees and the flowers reach up to the sun for its rays to give them life, so should we look up to the Son. 

You can begin again, anew, in His love. Let His love help you to have hope again. Be still and wait. If your heart is in a place where it feels like a long, cold winter just be still and know that He is there working for you to help you grow into who He always knew you could be.

 

my house

AS FOR ME AND MY HOUSE

WE WILL 
         love
          serve
           honor
            magnify
             praise
              worship
               fear
                obey
                 follow
                   trust
                         THE LORD

 Joshua 24:15





Inspired by @christinecaine IG post
                 
                                            

lies that i tell myself

The Preacher has begun looking at some ideas for new sermon series for the rest of the year. He needed something that would tie into Mother's Day and Father's Day.

I had purchased this book last year thinking that he might be able to use it for Mother's Day but he went in a different direction.

So this year when he and I were discussing his sermon plans, I reminded him of this book. He asked me to look over the chapter headings and let him know out of all of the chapters what were the topics that I thought women would want to know the truth about.

The book deals with the lies that we as women tell ourselves and the author then tells you what truths the Lord wants you to hear.

So I looked them over and this is what I saw:
"About God" the lie is that God doesn't love me.
"About Themselves" the lie is that I'm not worth anything and physical beauty matters more than inner beauty.
"About Sin" the lie is that my sin isn't really that bad.
"About Priorities" the lie is that I don't have time to do everything I'm supposed to do.
"About Marriage" the lie is that it is my job to change my mate.
"About Children" the lie is that I can't control/can control the way my children turn out and that I'm not a good mother.
"About Emotions" the lie is that if I feel something it must be true.
"About Circumstances" the lie is that I just can't take any more.

We need the truth told by the Lord so that we will not believe these lies anymore.

There are several more "lies" that we tell ourselves that are discussed in the book. These are just a few that I pointed out to him that he could possibly use for his series.

I would encourage you to pick up the book and read it. There might just be a lie that you have been telling yourself that the author has put in the book. 

There is also this book for men

The preacher will be discussing a few of the lies that men tell themselves when he starts this sermon series. 

Maybe you and your husband/boyfriend/fiance' might want to pick both of them up and read them together as a devotional. There are a few topics/lies that do overlap.

The funny thing is, is that the women's book just happens to have a few more pages than the men's book. I don't know but maybe that says something about us women.