The Second Half on - Letting your Life Count

I finished the book a while back but wanted to say that I found the latter part to be a bit more challenging and, maybe because of that, more real. In a few words, living a life that counts can be compared to running a marathon. I probably have never run a mile, let alone a marathon . . . so who am I to talk? But I can see the good advice in this challenge . . . advice about running with perseverance while throwing off hindrances . . . and not worrying about tomorrow, rather realizing that today is the day that counts. In all of this, seeing the big picture yet, taking one step at a time toward the goal.

Three related points for me to remember in the race I find myself in:

(1) My coach knows my weakness and knows what I can handle. He won’t put me in a race I can’t run. I remember when, after two weeks of driver training, my instructor informed me he was booking my appointment for the test. I was sure he did not know how unprepared I was! But in the end, he knew I needed the push and he knew what he was doing. I passed.

(2) Pride comes before a fall. If I think I’m doing well and begin to look around, I’ll be in trouble.

(3) If I’m not facing hindrances, is it possible that I’m not even in the race? Why else would the writer of Hebrews talk about running with perseverance . . . unless the race has challenges and obstacles?

An accomplished triathlete once shared the secret of his success by admitting that he can’t think about swimming the miles, but swimming to the next buoy is possible. You will reach the end of the long race by running the short ones or being faithful in the little things.

Therefore . . . let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith . . . Hebrews 12: 1-2

Picnic on the Landing Zone

Last Sunday afternoon Chris headed out to the paragliding launch on a ridge high above Bridal Falls. I have learned that Chris has loved anything to do with flying since he was small. In fact, he was only about eight years old when he read Jungle Pilot, which inspired him to pursue his present career.

So . . . back to Sunday . . . we packed a picnic supper and drove out to the Bridal landing zone. It was a perfect day for gliding! We spread out our Mexican blanket on the edge of the landing site and watched. I enjoyed observing the individual, close up, landing approach of each paraglider . . . whether they landed on their feet or their bum . . . which is possible with the padding in the harness (seat), but obviously not the preferred way to land.

Makenna made sure we knew that Daddy’s (paraglider) was the “blue one."

We watched the "blue one" soar above, disappear around the mountain and come back.

He was not in a hurry to come down, so we unpacked the old blue ice box . . .

ate supper . . . and dessert.

Finally it looked like Daddy was making his landing approach,

and a nice landing it was!

Our happy flyer with his deflated wing,

being greeted appropriately.

Supper was finished while the kids got in some flights of their own.

A relaxing, enjoyable and entertaining picnic it was!

Tehya Bethanne

Tehya was barely two when they left for Indonesia. This summer she is turning eight. I wish I’d known that, when she disappeared into that plane headed for Asia, it would still be possible to be Grammy and have a special relationship with my grandchildren. At the time, the unknown brought such aching sadness to my heart.

But over these past six years I’ve been comforted and blessed in many ways as I’ve learned that not only can she know me and love me but that life, as she sees it there, is working out for good in her.

Living among the poor and observing her mom and dad’s care for them is an experience that I would not be too quick to take away from her now as I see how she has grown into a confident and outgoing girl with a caring spirit for anyone who needs a friend. She has challenged me with her sensitivity and knowledge of what is right and wrong and she is eager to be of help where she can be. I think she will be a doctor one day. Come to think of it, penmanship is not her first priority. I write that with a smile.

Last Saturday, while everyone had plans to go out, she and I stayed home. It was the middle of the day, but it was movie time . . . a matinee. . . why not?
She had everything planned.

The movie was chosen.

She set the ambiance with lighting and blankets and, upon her suggestion, we made popcorn.

I wonder who enjoyed and needed this more . . . she or I? It’s times like these, that I treasure in my heart.

Paeton Ben

Paet is almost six. He can find things to entertain himself with in the back yard for hours. Rocks, sticks, leaves, bugs . . . so many fascinating things to find!

There was a not just a bit of excitement when we found out that we had a wasp nest in one of our trees. For some reason the swinging action from the tire swing would bother them and they'd come out in numbers, ready to fight. Well, Papa who practically grew up in the wilderness, knew just how to get rid of them and we had peace.

On Monday Paet was playing outside when he saw me with my camera and asked if he could take pictures of a little friend . . . that looked to be quite co-operative.

He went all about the yard . . . placing him in different positions . . . in different places . . . looking into the viewfinder and clicking up close. There were more than 30 pictures in my camera . . . of the same yellowjacket wasp. . .

When I caught up with Paeton, even I let his friend settle into my palm!

Yesterday he came to get groceries with me, chatting up a storm that made passersby smile. He had a few dollars burning a hole in his pocket and was constantly on the lookout for how he could spend them. And what did he get? A package of plastic snakes, frogs and lizards . . . and even though they are just as dead as the wasp, I'm glad they do not look so real.

Makenna Sage

I'm not sure if she remembers being here before,

but I think she has decided that this is a good place.

Buns with jam are her love language,

the ever-ready swing under the tree, her delight

and uncle Ben's old binoculars, from th old toy box, better than any purse!

I love how she asks, "Grammy is?"

How she calls for Papa.

How she loves shoes.

How, when she has an accident in her pull ups, she cries, "yucky, gross!"

How she comes up with new words every day

and how she sings Jesus loves me to herself.

Remaining Teachable

An inspiring chapter, by Donna Parton, talks about maintaining a teachable heart. It kind of caught me by surprise that when we stop learning, we basically stop relating to those around us. It makes sense. How else can I encourage, teach or help someone unless I am willing to find out what is going on and what I can do?

The teachability that I am talking about is not about being willing to learn for selfish reasons, but it’s about being willing to put others before myself. It’s about being in conversation with someone and asking specific questions to get specific answers. It’s about coming away from a conversation having learned something, while having made that person feel like they count.

We all know and meet people who simply have a lot to say or, on the other hand, will make us feel like we have something to say. This causes me to think about how I make people feel. Regretfully, I know I am often more concerned about what I can contribute to a conversation than what I can learn from it.

King Solomon, known as the wisest man on earth, did not get there by chance. In a dream one night, God said to him, “Ask whatever you want me to give you.” Solomon admitted his need as a leader and asked for wisdom. He saw his need for a discerning heart and, rather than letting his pride get in the way, he kept a teachable attitude.

The question is, what can I learn from someone I meet today? May I practice the words, tell me more.

A Day With My Mom

When I was a mom of pre-schoolers, I loved it when my mom would come from Vancouver for the day to spend the day together. While most moms and daughters would probably go shopping, one of our favorite things to do was to bake and get some goodies into the freezer. While we don't do it much any more, lately we've taken a few opportunities to do this again.

The day she came over, she put on an apron made by her mom. Do you remember this kind of crossstitch done on gingham? I took a close look and was amazed that, although my Oma had very poor vision, she took on this kind of needlework. Truly a labor of love. My mom wears it with pride - for special occasions. Smile.

She went about the task of rolling out dough and cutting out cookies. Special cookies I still need to learn how to make. They get filled with jam and iced with a white sugar glaze that keeps them moist for months, just in a cooler.

Then she rolled out another dough. She is soo good at this! I told her this is university baking. She laughed, because she has only finished grade six. This dough gets filled with fruit and pinched just right. Once baked, they taste rather like mini hand held fruit pies.

While she was more busy with the rolling out and pinching than I was . . . I set about making a fruit bouquet . . . so much easier than what she was doing, yet she oohed and aahed about it.

It was a wonderful day spent talking and laughing in the kitchen. And at the end of the day, there was even something to show for it.

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday to my H!

Thank you for being my best friend through every season!

I'll love you always.

A Time To Paper and a Time Not To

We have put up a lot of wallpaper over the years. Our first home, then our second and our third house got over 300 rolls, on three floors! We did this ourselves and mostly together.
Over the last number of years, however, we have been very happy to have the paper taken off and gone as far as painting right over it. I've been very content with my solid colored walls again, so it took us by surprise when we got asked to put up some wallpaper.

But when the Daddy of this little cutie asked us if we'd do a powder room, we agreed to go at it again.

And it was a good reminder of the fact that our marriage has lasted because we can put up wallpaper together. It was a time when once again I was reminded of how seasons come and go.

In fact, when I looked back at the paper we had up 25 years ago, I thought there was a similarity about it. Well, if not the paper, definitely the baby!

Quick Makeover

You may or may not remember this look from a winter/Christmas post.

A little visit to Homesense brought about a quick change for the summer. A new picture, a pack of facecloths, a vase and some potpourri. Simple things like this put a smile on my face . . . especially while we're waiting for special guests.

In the Shadow

It’s been twelve months of
Waking up and remembering
Although - even in sleep she feels the loss
And the thought of facing the day alone
Casts a lingering shadow in her home.

She revisits places where they went
Places where he walked beside her
Sometimes just to hold her hand
And times to spurn her on - to a higher peak
The memories of which, to her, still speak.

Like a shadow always with her
Reminding her of what he would say
Or teasing her of what he would do
Sometimes so real – she can only cry
Other times so far, she wants to die.

She sees him in the children born to them
Each one following their dreams
Just like, she remembers, they once did
But with a higher sense of life's fragility
And appreciation for each day.

Memories like a silver thread
Keep weaving in and out of every day
Sometimes bringing on a smile
And sometimes bringing tears
Unashamedly mingling with her fears.

But, just when she thinks the valley's too deep
You, Lord, remind her, you are with her
From Your perspective it's but a shadow
That cannot take away the joy to come
When they'll be joined in their eternal home.

Although mere words cannot begin to express . . . thinking of you, my sister-in-law, July 2010

He will wipe every tear from their eyes.

there will be no more death, or mourning or crying or pain,

for the old order of things has passed away.

Revelation 21:4

Flower Planter Updates

If only these bright petunias could know how much joy they have brought me as they have turned their faces to my kitchen window . . .

A little closer look.

Even the daisies in the backyard are doing okay in spite of the rain we've had.

These impatiens are not complaining . . .

and the Martha Washingtons have also outdone themselves,

but my front door pots look like they are reaching for the sun. Maybe I'll take some more pictures on another day. But for today . . . I wish to bloom where I'm planted.