The Year 2017

The school year was filled with the marvelous, the horribly challenging, but never the mundane. After much reflection, there was so much need and turmoil there wasn’t time for much of anything else. Most of the year I seemed to be in “survival mode” plus “what more can I do for student a, b, c, d, e, and f? What else haven’t I tried? Do you remember the amusement park game Whack-A-Mole? That was what the school year was like. One student or family need or challenge would pop up and as soon as it would be taken care of, another one or two, or three would leap up. I’m not kidding.

Then there were three significant family crises. One for each season: fall, winter, and spring.

There were many sweet moments with family, students, colleagues, church family, and friends. There were soft, kind encouraging moments with Jesus. I just didn’t record them like I usually do.

The question I ask myself now is, could I have done a better job than I did? Did I show God’s love to others as much I as could have? My type A- personality says, “Really, you didn’t do enough.” My super supportive husband says, “You did your best and it was enough.” What does God think? Fortunately, Robin Mark wrote a song for just these sort of occasions, called, “When it’s all been said and done.” (I’ve tried multiple times to link the song here. I’ve even googled how to do it a few times. It’s not working, but, like the subject of this post, we press on. Please listen to the song on YouTube. The lyrics and the music are hauntingly beautiful.)

I had a sweet, refreshing time all alone today. I looked through my journal today and saw there were no entries from October through April. I noticed the last blog post on this site was in 2016. I organized all my crafting supplies and projects and noticed there were many I want to finish. And start.

I spent too much time on social media this year. But some of it was good. I connected with acquaintances and now know them a bit better than before. Many people shared prayer requests on Facebook. There are many Twitter accounts and Facebook pages that share God’s word. That’s always good. So very good.

You know what got me through? The prayers of God’s people. My husband’s prayers. My mother’s prayers. My daughter’s prayers. My church family’s prayers. My friend’s prayers. God’s church, God’s people are one of his greatest blessings. I am thankful and humbled by the love they continually show.

MNR Custom LLC

Hillsong United - There Is Nothing Like...

Friends

The thing about friends is that you want to be with them. At the least, they are fun to be around. At the most, they are family. The best people we know on our planet.
My friends are gracious, kind, supportive, understanding, funny, smart, kind, warm, generous, and loving.

Realistically, they are probably just like the rest of humanity; weak, short-tempered, annoying, petty, selfish, and the like. But I don't see it. I just don't see it.
I do see glimpses of people with complex stories and wounds. I see God-given strengths that sometimes are taken to the extreme and become a little unbalanced. But these small things are overshadowed by all the other gifts they have.

What does all of this mean? It means I am blessed. I have a good extended family. Really good. I have a small family- husband, four daughters, two (almost three) sons-in-laws, and two grandsons who are the apples of my eye. I have friends who love me and I love them. I have dear, close friends who are as precious as my family. What a rich, rich life.

What's for breakfast?

Some days all you need is coffee with honey and milk and a piece of lightly browned toast. But, the toast should have a good amount of real butter spread fairly evenly to all four corners. Maybe the honey in the coffee is enough sweetness for that particular day so the saltiness of the butter and the crunchy tenderness of the toast is fine.

Some mornings butter and honey is needed, depending on how many sweets you had the day before. There's just something about how the melted butter and the honey make just the right moistness-to-toast-crunchiness ratio.

Once in a while the day calls for a hearty jam. Not jelly, which is pretty much just sugary fruit juice that is thick enough to set up. No, it should to be jam with real chunks of apricot, whole blueberries, or bits of strawberries. It's the tangy flavor that makes the difference. Not sour. Not sweet. Tangy.

There are days when you need the protein of an egg plus the salt and pepper that go with it. There are waffle and pancake days too. But the best kind of mornings are the just-coffee-and-toast days.

Dancing

Have you ever seen a toddler dance? They bend their knees almost in time with the music. The cuteness factor is pretty much off the charts. But when you think about it, it's astonishing how the urge to dance is engrained into the youngest of our kind. Why is that?

There's something about a catchy bass line or a strong beat. Is it akin to a strong steady heartbeat? Is it a reminder of the strength of a loving father's heart or the sound of our mother's heart when we spent months in the womb?

Is it like a call to attention such as war drums or the march of the drum and fife? Is it a reminder of our instinctive desire for a passionate life and intense joy? Whatever it is, if most of us have a chance and the freedom to be uninhibited for a few minutes, we'll begin to tap our feet. Then we might clap our hands. That might, just might, lead to a burst of actually bending some limbs, swaying to the rhythm, or bobbing our heads.

What would it be like to have the joy and the mental freedom to dance like a toddler dances when the music hits us just right? What if we threw back our heads, threw out our arms, and twirled like preschool children? Would we be more joyful in general if we let ourselves experience joy in that way?

What if we began at home, alone? What if found the lyrics to our favorite songs and belted them out as loud as we wanted to and didn't worry about how it sounds? I guess we could start there. When did we decide that we need to dance and sing like professionals to do those things? Wouldn't it be fun to begin again?

The Vessel

It's a plain Jane 2007 Toyota Corolla. All it has is air-conditioning and a CD player. It even has window cranks. The driver side front door doesn't "catch" anymore so you'd better hold onto it when opening or the car next to you will feel it. And I love it. It's just small enough to feel like you're zooming in and out of traffic on an important mission instead of doing errands around town. It's the first car that I've bought that's not a conservative color. It's a nice warm red. Not candy-apple high school red, just red.

My husband and I have taken it on mini-adventures all around New England. It's been to New York state multiple times. It's been to Minnesota (24 hours away from our home) about four times now. And it's been all over Vermont and New Hampshire for years.

I think it's my favorite car since we've been married which has been just a tad over thirty years. It's sturdy, reliable, and simple. It fits well.

I can see taking it north to Canada to explore the beauty of that generous country. I can also see taking it southwest to the beaches in Mexico. Either one would be fine with me.

Even though it's a friendly, happy little car, I would leave it home for a chance to spend a summer driving around Scotland, England, Wales, Ireland, or France. I would take lots of pictures of the countryside and the regular people who live in these places. I would love to sit and drink tea or coffee and nibble whatever kind of bread or scone or biscuit that was offered and listen to the people talk to one another. My traveling journal would continually be in my hand, I think. I would long for a greater vocabulary to describe the richness and beauty of the people and countries.

I think it would make me long for heaven. There are moments, tastes of blissful longing when I see a picture of open fields and golden summer light. The perfectness of a landscape with the summer sounds of grasshoppers, crickets, or cicadas squeeze my heart inside my chest with a longing so intense that the tears prick my eyes with a fierce, "if only." Truly, truly creation reflects it's Maker. Beautiful, grand, unexplainable, perfection. Some day.

It would be fun to drive a small European car. To try to get the feel of it as we explore the back roads and whatever comes along. Which countries drive on the left side of the road? That would take me awhile to get used to. In fact, there would probably be a couple of near head-on collisions as my mind (and the car) drifted from the present to the other ideas that pop into my head continually.

Still, I am content with my Corolla and the little previews of heaven here in the slice of the world called New England. For now.