Katie's Gift

What a pleasant evening we had last night. Katie is home for two days between Summer Beach Project in Daytona and Resident Assistant training back at school. She wanted to make dinner for us and the Swifts. Two of the Canns were on their own for dinner, so they also joined us. Katie's first meal cooked by herself was a total success! It was a pork chop, apple and stuffing dish and we all loved it.
There were four youth who know each other well and five adults who know each other well. So relaxing and nice to be with people who don't need to impress each other, who have a history to talk about and future plans to share. Future plans that we genuinely care about.
These were people we could breath with. I'm not even sure what that means, but it feels right.
Sometimes you meet people and suddenly know they are people you can breath with and sometimes you're right. However, I've been wrong about that, too. Either way it takes time to discover and develop.
Breathing requires space, ability to relax, time and absence of judgment. A genuine belief that each person wants you to be well and happy.
On a rainy evening, in an inviting home we were all given a gift. It didn't cost a lot. Or come wrapped in expectation and need. It wasn't conditional or revocable or a test. It was a gift from a thankful and pure heart. And one of the best gifts I've ever received.
Thank you, Katie.

Amazed in the Laundry Aisle

In the laundry detergent aisle yesterday, I decided to get Lizzy a small thing of detergent and dryer sheets to take to school. I found the most amazing thing - they are Purex complete 3-in-1 Laundry sheets. Each sheet has detergent, softener, and anti-static in it. You just put it in the washer and then leave it with the clothes when they go into the dryer! How easy will that be - not to mention not having to carry around the bottle of detergent.
I showed them to another lady shopping in the aisle near me. I told the cashier about them and pointed them out to the lady bagging groceries. When Mike came home, I had them waiting right on the table so he could look at them. He studied them for a moment and then said, "But wonder how . . . nevermind. I guess someone smart figured it all out."
My dad's dad was a blacksmith in South Carolina. He died in 1942 when Daddy was seven. Grandma moved with their seven kids out of town and became share croppers. Daddy was in his teens before he lived in a house with a floor. Grandma taught in a one room school house, all twelve grades, when she wasn't out in the tobacco fields with the kids.
Daddy says he used to go way out of his way to stand outside the first house that had a TV antenna - just staring at the antenna - amazed.
I must not forget to be amazed at the laptop beneath my fingers, facebooking with a friend in Afghanistan, carrying a phone in my pocket - or finding 3-in-1 wash/dry sheets. To live amazed is a good way to live.
I love this quote from Emily Dickinson: "To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else."
So come on world - Amaze me again!

Just a Caretaker

When the kids were 10, 8 and 6, they boarded a plane with Mike to Philadelphia. Mike, for work, and the kids to spend a week with Nana and Grandad Shostak. I sat at the gate and watched the plane pull away (pre 9/11) and panic began to rise. They were all on that plane. What if something bad happened?
Then God stepped into the panic. What if they have reached the end of their planned time on earth? What if it's time for them to come back to me? What if on the day I gave them to you, I knew it would only be for a short time? Did you do your best? Can you hand them back to me knowing you took care of them as I wanted? That even though their time was short, you helped them become what I envisioned when I first created them?
That stopped the panic cold. Slowly I started breathing and thinking and my head nodded, yes. Yes, I had done my best. Then I gave God permission to be God. Even with my childrens' lives.
We know now that Lizzy's cat, Smokey, died at the end of last week when he was hit by a car. A neighbor called yesterday after seeing the signs we posted. On Monday, Lizzy and I were out running errands and she started talking about Smokey. She said, "I saw so many poor cats on the mission trip that no one was taking care of. Even if Smokey doesn't come back, I know he had a good life and he was loved."
We are only loaned our loved ones; they do not belong to us.
I'm just the caretaker God selected to help Robert, Ryan and Lizzy become all he envisioned when he created them. What an amazing, and humbling, honor.

Loud and Clear - or Not

From a conversation I had recently with a friend came great wisdom -mine, of course. And it was so great I decided last night I'd share it with you in this mornings blog. I spent the last half hour on it. The writing is fine. It makes sense and would probably be appreciated by those that read it. But it didn't feel right. It wasn't what I was supposed to write today.
Back in Illinois, I somehow got the gig of doing the children's sermon each week in the church service. You know, when the kids come up and the pastor does a little talk. Well, I did that for several years. I'd open myself up to God each week and through out the week my message would come and by Sunday morning I'd have it polished and ready to go. Sometimes the message took longer to get, requiring more concentration and prayer, more listening.
However, one week nothing came. Nothing. As we walked to church I threatened God with what he'd done. "You've given me nothing so I guess you're going to just let me get up there and sit down and tell those kids you didn't give me anything to say. You're just going to let that happen, aren't you?" God apparently didn't have a problem with that and shockingly he didn't get scared and send down a quickie message. I still had nothing as I entered the sanctuary.
Pastor Zimmerman rushed up to me. "Kay, we have some special things today so we need to cancel the children's sermon. Sorry I didn't call you earlier."
Wow, what a leap in my faith journey. The knowledge that God will supply what he wants me to say or write or do. Even in my darkest times of confusion I know the confusion comes from me - not him. He's probably speaking very loudly through the people around me, the books lying on my desk, the shows I watch on TV or his silence is the message. Whichever it is - the message is there if I'll wait - and listen.

Smokey

Smokey hasn't come home. Smokey was Lizzy's 8th birthday present, a gray and white kitten. He adores her. Sleeps with her, waited on her school bus, and stands on the stairs telling her it's time for bed around 10 pm. He tolerated the rest of us because, apparently, Lizzy liked us.
Lizzy was at Mission Camp last week and it's not unusual for Smokey to not come in at night when she's been gone several days. He loves our backyard and usually takes his naps in the shade of the bird bath. However, as soon as Lizzy gets home and calls for him, he comes bounding up the stairs to her. He usually goes straight to their bedroom and begs her to take a nap with him.
Saturday afternoon she called for him - and he didn't come. Same Saturday night, Sunday morning, all day yesterday and last night she posted a vigil for him on the back deck. This morning - she's asleep on the living room couch. I guess bed was just too hard to face.
As Mike said this morning, "Why couldn't this happen in just a couple more weeks?" Then she'll be off to college and while still painful, the loss might've been more bearable.
I keep watching the back door thinking he'll show up all of a sudden.
Even though it's well known that I'm not much of an animal person, we've never been without animals. We had dogs and cats all the while I was growing up. Mike and I had our "baby" Chancey, (part huskey) before we had kids. We had Tipsy (terrier and beagle mix) and Shannon (german shepherd) when our kids were younger. I had the pre-requisite stashed kitten in my college dorm room - and I was the RA. Now we have Ginger, the most laid back calico cat in the world, and Smokey.
Poor Lizzy, emotions were already running high with her friends heading off in different directions and now this.
Worst of all - I can't do a darn thing.

It's Magic time

Fridays are magic to me. Being one that tends to look for magic, I imbued Fridays with specialness early on. I wore special, more better things in elementary school on the last day of the week. The air walking home always seemed sweeter and bubbling with possibilities. In high school, I lamented not having the Friday nights the teenage heroines I read about enjoyed, but still it was Friday and high school football with friends and racing home to watch "Dallas" wasn't bad. College met all my dreams for Friday nights, especially the night before a home game in Neyland Stadim in Knoxville.
Small kids and no money found me sad and grieving the end of Friday's magic. However, I tend to not let magic go easily. So, my housework week in those years revolved around having everything done by 1 pm, Friday when the kids took their nap. Those couple hours became my time - lit candles, a glass of wine and a book.
Today I had an appointment earlier so I left the house and turned on my classic rock station - I ONLY listen to classic rock on Fridays - no country, or Christian, or talk radio. (Magic doesn't just happen, you know.)
Leaving my appointment, the first song was perfection - "Sweet Home Alabama". Blue sky, summer time and Sweet Home Alabama. Told you God is crazy about me!
I rolled down the window, turned up the radio and sang out loud. A friend of my mom's told me one time that she saw me singing out loud in my car. She seemed to imply I should be embarrassed.
I'd like to say I don't care what people think, but it's really just the opposite. I think if the people on the highway see me singing - a 47 year old, overweight woman driving a 2001 mini-van maybe they'll think, "If she can be that happy - why shouldn't I?"
It's Friday! Can you feel the magic?

What's your Opinion?

Nothing is more conducive to peace of mind than not having any opinion at all. -- Georg Lichtenberg

Boy, do I have opinions. And I like to talk to other people that have opinions. I want to know what people are thinking and then I want to talk about it. Sometimes it's fun to be with people that share my opinions and then we can get all red-neck and rowdy.
But I also like to be with people that don't share my opinion so I can see if I really believe my opinions. Or do they fall to another's reasoning? Of course in those situations you have to be with people that will listen to you and who are testing their opinions also. I want to challenge and be challenged and then everyone laugh and move on - exhilarated and stretched.
I love to talk about those taboo subjects of politics and religion. You just never know when you just might learn something. I remember one time when a belief I held was challenged, stretched, pushed and over a period of time - changed. During that time I said to God, "Okay, enough. I don't want to be enlightened anymore." Other times my beliefs have come out stronger from the testing and the enlightenment was confirmation.
My time as editor for the weekly newspaper in Peotone, Illinois led to me publishing my opinion. Of course I got to call it an "editorial". When we moved to Marietta I used to sit in the stands at the baseball fields and get giddy saying under my breath, "No one here knows me. No one here knows my opinons!"
Gave me a new appreciation for politicians. They do not get to have private opinions. They are the folks that have opinions and state them, vote on them, make them into laws.
Based on my experience, I believe it takes a lot of guts to be a politician and I truly believe it is a noble calling with more responsibility than most of us can imagine.