I have so many words inside my breaking heart, I am going to need a few days to sort them out, to tell her sweet story.
Sandy and me on 12/27/14
So, this is just to say that right now my heart is tender, and I never even wanted to have a dog because I didn’t want an end, but she was more than worth the mourning and pain I am experiencing now.
My daughter, Stephanie, rescued her from the landfill near DIA 14 years ago. She was full-grown even then, so we have no idea how old she ended up, but we had her for 14 loving, affectionate, gracious years. We called her our junk-yard dog, but her worth to us cannot be measured.
I have so many words, but for this post, until I can cry them out on another day, suffice it to say, she belonged to us all, the whole Rhoades tribe, kids and grandbebes. We all grieve.
She left quietly, trying hard not bother any of us, which was exactly the way she lived. It was Saturday morning, the birds were singing in the trees and she was leaving us with no particular fanfare.
She died in the backyard, her hair sparkling in the bright morning sun, waving gently in the sweet breeze…on a beautiful spring day, like all the days she gave us.
I’ve written about *Sandy* before:
5-12-2012 “Sandy, true to her German Wiredhaired Pointer characteristics, lives to please us. She is like a trusted friend, always ready with a warm greeting when I come home, edging as close to my feet as possible when I sit. In fact, where I go, she goes...” READ MORE HERE
2-18-2010 “The scraggly family mutt who was abandoned at the landfill years ago to run wild and fear her own shadow, the trembling pile of fur we drug home, intent on saving whether she wanted us or not, and named “Sandy” after the dog from the Broadway play and the 1982 movie, “Annie,” has come full circle.
Yes. Sandy-the-Dog played Sandy-the-Dog in Prairie Playhouse’s production of “Annie,” at tonight’s OPENING NIGHT!!!” READ MORE HERE
11-17-2014 “As I write this, my dilapidated old dog is at my feet. Sandy is somewhere near the finish line. It makes me feel better knowing she’ll be joining her cousin-doggie soon, where the two of them can romp like puppies again together, well and whole.
Don’t try to debate me theologically on this point. Sandy is one of the most Christ-like creations of God I have ever known. She is a godly old girl…” READ MORE HERE
8-21-2014 “Oh Sandy, you sweet, old dog, you. I love how you watch me from the corner of your eye when I have told you to look away while I eat. I love how you patrol the yard and make a ruckus at the hint of the first sprinkle, as if you can hold thunder and lightening at bay. I love how you chase the birds loudly one day, then share your water bowl the next while you just look at them inches away from your nose. They are not afraid of you at all. And you’re a bird-dog. I love your big, brown, pouty eyes and how you know when I need a friend…” READ MORE HERE
7-26-2013 “She loves you already. It doesn’t matter that she doesn’t even know you yet. She has never met a human being she didn’t want to adore fully right off the bat, with the possible exceptions being screaming-2-year-olds. They make her nervous. But fully-grown people? She loves even the dog-haters. She is just a great big lover. She will attach herself to you as if she is the Secret Service on Presidential Guard duty. No one will be able to get to you on her watch…” READ MORE HERE
There are so many posts. But I’ll stop…I am so missing her.
Good grief
I spent the day after she died researching, desperately looking for a to-do list, a set of guidelines for getting through the grief process quickly. I even researched what “acceptable” grief for the loss of a beloved dog is. I found out that it will take however long it takes. I learned that old grief gets mixed in with new grief. I learned that I cannot be cured or fixed and there is no universal timetable and that life will go on, but that losing Sandy is a change, a loss of huge proportions to my heart and soul. So there will be tears and I will grieve. For however long…
Kai-Kai came to hang out with me. It intersected with my first day home in 17 days. And a more glorious Colorado day, I don’t think there could have been. Seriously – even a few puffy white clouds cannot dissipate the bluest of blue skies in Colorado. The sun was warm, the breeze was gentle and Kai was cuter than ever.
And I was thinking as my grand-boy and I were swinging and making pictures with chalk on the sidewalk, while we picnicked on a blanket in the cool green grass, as we climbed around on the play set and scooped up pebbles for throwing – I was thinking how amazing I am as a Nonna.
Grilled chicken, peas, quinoa and blueberries for lunch. Animal crackers for dessert!
Yes. There. Can you believe I actually said that? Well, I did.
I am really a great Nonna. :)
I am really good at this grand-mom thing, it turns out. But it isn’t of my doing. It is not because I am accomplishing anything or being especially productive or impressive at all.
We enjoyed the neighbor’s beautiful autumn tree during our picnic
It’s mostly just because, I have realized, I just accept and receive the grandbebes for who they are. I enjoy them and embrace them and am in awe of them just as God has created them to be. I open my heart to all of it and feel giddy for the honor of getting to watch them and know them and see their lives unfold.
In short, I really do nothing other than enjoy them. I just sit around receiving everything they bring to life, the gift of them.
Sandy-the-Dog wishes!
I am much better at being a Nonna than I was a mom.
As a mom, I doubted myself constantly. I was sure if I didn’t do every single thing right {I didn’t} my kids wouldn’t turn out {they did}. I was afraid it was all in my court: make sure they get good grades, are well-rounded, excel in athletics, become super citizens, are polite at all times, have the best of everything, never get hurt, {make me look good…true confessions}, and become who God wanted them to be. That last one – well, I was pretty sure God had a plan for them and if I didn’t work hard enough – I could totally mess up His deal.
“Direct your children onto the right path, and when they are older, they will not leave it.” Proverbs 22.6 NLT
And yes, of course, we have a part, as the above Proverb encourages us. But somewhere along the way (when they were almost grown…it takes me awhile), I began to realize that more than my children were “mine,” they were His. More than any love I had for them, more than any protection or experience I could provide, He had more, so much more – that He had known them from before…(see Romans 8.29 and Ephesians 1.4). My “hard work” in raising the world’s 5 most amazing kids was mostly ineffective, at best, damaging to them at its worst.
“I knew you before I formed you in your mother’s womb. Before you were born I set you apart and appointed you…” Jeremiah 1.5 NLT
I really did do my best, the best I knew to do with my children. But I over-parented a lot, I obsessed over things that didn’t matter sometimes. I erred towards discipline and creating righteous little children along the way when I should have laughed with them more, let some things slide and just plain enjoyed them. Too often I was set on molding them into godliness (at a level I could never even seem to achieve) as holy human beings to be admired instead of receiving them as the gifts of God He created them to be. And just loving them like the Father loves me, foibles and all. How does He love me?
God is mindful of me, always thinking of me (Psalm 8).
He created my inmost being and His works are wonderful (Psalm 139.13-14, the whole chapter, really).
God loves me with an ever-lasting love and draws me with loving-kindness. That is some deep love (Jeremiah 31.3).
He chose me and does not reject me (Isaiah 41.9).
I was actually made in His image (Genesis 1.27).
His thoughts toward me are countless-like the sand on the seashore (Psalm 139.17-18).
He rejoices over me with singing, just like I do over Him, but better! (Zephaniah 3.17)
He sees me as His treasured possession (Exodus 19.5).
He will never stop doing good to me (Jeremiah 32.40).
He is my greatest encourager, believing the best in me always (2 Thessalonians 2. 16-17).
God comforts me in all my troubles (2 Corinthians 1.3-4).
He comes in even closer to me when my heart is broken (Psalm 34.18).
I am precious in His sight (Isaiah 33.4).
I am the apple of His eye (Zechariah 2.8).
We’re friends, God and I. He has called me His friend (John 15.15).
God delights in me (Psalm 150.4)
He carries me close to His heart, just like a shepherd carries a lamb (Isaiah 40.11).
He doesn’t count my sins against me, not keeping a tally of my failure (2 Corinthians 5.18-19).
He forgets my sins – as far as the east is from the west, He has removed my transgressions from me. Awe-inspiring.
I didn’t choose Him. He so loved me, He chose me and appointed me to bear fruit that will last. I can ask Him anything, anything! He is my Father. (John 15.16)
Nothing can separate me from His love (Romans 8:38-39).
He has always been my Father and He will always be my Father (Ephesians 3.14-15).
So that’s a good start on how to love our kids. And the grands.
Look at that little face. I think Kai was telling me, in this shot, “You’re doing pretty good as a Nonna.” As best I can, I’ll reflect the love of the Lord towards me back onto him. And I receive all he is, the gift of him. He knows. He can tell…
This was in the kitchen upon my return:
From the Kelley kids. They love their Nonna and their Nonna loves them. And I am really great at that!
Dear Gavin, Hunter, Guinivere, Gemma May, Averi-J, Amelie Belle, Malakai, Bailey-baby, Evangeline and baby-Faaland-to-be: You’re the reason I was born! :)
Spotify says this one is from 1994, so that’s 20 years ago – good heavens! Kent is my all-time favorite worship leader. He blazed a trail in worship revelation and leading 30-40 years ago, but he has never stopped, he just keeps worshiping and leading people in to the Presence, year after year, decade after decade.
There is so much great musical worship out there, many new songs (Kent’s latest release: HERE). But every now and then – it is good to remember and some songs hold up over time and remind you of the good God has done over many years. I can recall what He was doing in my life when I was listening to these songs…
High and Lifted Up, For I know the Plans, The Repaired of the Lord (a spontaneous song of encouragement and promise), Burn it Deep (the reprise) – those are my favorites.
The promise in Jeremiah
As it happens, I caught a live-stream service from Summit Christian Center in San Antonio last night. Pastor Rick Godwin preached, “Good News in a Terrible Place.” It was about the conditions in which God’s people found themselves when that beloved and often-quoted prophetic scripture Jeremiah 29.11 came.
For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope. (Jeremiah 29.11 NKJV)
God’s people were in exile. They were in Babylon, a godless place and they were going to be there a long time, as per, you know – the God of the universe.
Rick said the truth is, being in exile is a regular part of the human existence and the word of the Lord to us is build houses and plant gardens and marry and live fully and dwell and increase in that place – in our Babylon, our place of exile. Because even there, especially there, God promises: I won’t leave you, I won’t quit using you and I won’t quit working in your life the way I have planned. Get used to it. You may be in Babylon a long time. But even there, there in your exile,
Then you will call upon Me and go and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. And you will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart.I will be found by you, says the Lord… (Jeremiah 29.12-14)
So that passage wasn’t about being immediately rescued from a bad situation, but about God being there even in the situation – and using us in exile to bless the people and community and world around us!
So, take heart, friends and family. Exile doesn’t mean you’re washed up, used up, outside God’s will or out of His favor. It just means, He has put you {led you} in to the middle of a place (a Babylon) that needs His glory, His light and love to be shown and He will do that through you! This is good news in even the most terrible of places!
I was having this Technicolor dream the other morning – vivid, rich hues (slightly cross-processed) and warm, strong light. The greens were deep, the reds were pure, the grass was soft. The world was right.
*”There’s a light in the window and the table’s set in splendor, some one’s standing by the open door…” – Dottie Rambo
In the dream, to my left was a big white house with a wraparound porch. The driveway and street were lined with cars, trunks open, families packing up to leave what had been a loving and happy gathering. All around were my kids and their families. There was much hugging and kissing, so much peace and satisfaction and love flowing like wild water down the mountain in spring. It was going to splash you, love was!
I was on the front sidewalk playing with Kai, talking to him, singing him songs. Then I actually heard the sound of Rambo’s music coming from the direction of the house, like I would have heard it from the hi-fi growing up:
*”I can see the family gathered, sweet faces all familiar…”
I asked Malakai, in my dream, “Kai-Kai, wanna dance with me? Let’s dance!” He was wearing a little light-blue suit with a bow tie, barefoot. He wrapped his arms around my neck (he’s only 1 1/2), me on my knees, and I held him tight and we were swaying, laughing.
It was one of those utterly perfect moments.
Inexplicably, in my dream, in this happy, joyous, loving, golden-light space, I looked up while Kai and I were dancing and there was my {Uncle Bill}, smiling at us from across the sidewalk. At the exact moment, I realized my {Aunt Rosie} was on the front porch talking away, hugging people good-bye, passing out travel sandwiches. And then I realized, it wasn’t just Dave and I and our children and theirs, but my parents were there, too and my siblings and nieces and nephews and people I’ve known across the years and loved.
I should mention, specifically, that both my Aunt Rosie (my dad’s older sister) and my Uncle Bill (married to my dad’s younger sister) passed away years ago. So having them so sharply present was this really sweet and surreal moment.
The Rambo’s song was still playing in my ears as I woke up:
*”I can see the crystal river, I must be near forever…”
I must have been near forever, and it was perfect there, in this dream.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
I am not sure what makes us dream the dreams we do,sometimes; not sure what brings a person or place or thing into such expressive clarity as we sleep. Mulling it over later, I realized it may well have been the result of both missing Kai (he has had a busy summer) and my brother Joe mentioning getting us all together for Thanksgiving this year, a feat of gargantuan proportions, if it could ever, even happen.
But I am also working on the chronicles, the photo books and journals of our family’s lives. I have 33 years worth of pictures and keepsakes I am determined to date and organize. I am in a groove, currently. I pull out a photo box with one child’s name on it and sort them into the years of their living. Then I paste them on to pages with notes about the occasion and in an hour or two, I hold the evidence of one child or another of mine from birth to adulthood and it flies by so fast, my head spins. And yes, I cry sometimes, thinking, “Oh I wish I could have known how fast those fleeting days were going and slowed time down and held that little baby a little longer, cuddled that growing child, kissed those feet, tucked my daughters and son in to bed once more…”
I was a church-busy mommy in the 80s and 90s. And I can tell you that almost nothing else I ever did when my children were young has any meaning, comparatively. I hope that serves as caution to some one who is reading, to some one with babies who are wearing you out. They ARE the Important thing right now (I capitalized Important on purpose). Thirty years later, those grown children are all that matters. And you just hope you instilled what you really meant to instill somehow…
Geez, I didn’t know this was going to be so heavy. Sorry.
Today my parents are celebrating 57 years of marriage. They married at the age of 18 in 1957 and they have made it 57 years. And I can tell you that nothing is as important to them as family, either. They have invested so much of themselves in to churches and people and yet, I know I have a place reserved for me in their hearts. I know my well-being and life take precedence over the busyness of years gone by, God now restoring the years we may have lost along the way.
I am so blessed that I still have both of parents here. I mean, I am going to be 55 soon – and I still have mom and dad. How fortunate is that???
So, this song, The Living Years by Mike and the Mechanics, is the one I wanted to share on this beautiful Sunday. Because life gets busy. Life goes fast. I know when you’re young, you think there is so much more left ahead, and there is, but time doesn’t just fly these days. Time careens at breakneck speed, faster and faster and out of sight before you can get your bearings.
So, I look around and these are my living years. And they’re yours. And I have things to share and tell the people I love. I have conversations I don’t want to let slip by. I want my people to know I love them, even if and especially when we are not seeing eye to eye.
I want to spend my vitality on my children and theirs (thanks to Staci Eldredge for that terminology) and the people God has placed in my path ~ friends who have become family. I want to love and honor my parents for all I am worth because my perspective has been enlarged and as time slips away, so, too, do the demands I once wanted to impose relationally in my more self-absorbed youth.
The Living Years
Say it loud, say it clear You can listen as well as you hear It’s too late when we die To admit we don’t see eye to eye
When else can we do these things? We can only do them now, in the days we have.
“How do you know what your life will be like tomorrow? Your life is like the morning fog—it’s here a little while, then it’s gone.” James 4.14 nlt
“…people are like the grass. Their beauty fades as quickly as the flowers in a field. The grass withers and the flowers fade, but the word of our God stands forever.” Isaiah 40.6-8 nlt
*Dottie Rambo song lyrics, I’ve Never Been this Homesick Before
To celebrate the anniversary of your birth, I have words…
Of course, I do. Many words. Still, some 12 years since we met, I am so grateful you married our daughter and became a son to us. She wasn’t the only deliriously happy person about that, you know. You were an answer to prayers and a fulfillment of hope and Tara’s dream come true. :)
If for no other reason than that you chose my firstborn and love her so deeply (and have blessed us with two spectacular grandsons), I’d think you were extraordinarily smart and wonderful.
But there are many reasons I love and admire you and my heart is tender towards you.
There have been incredible times since you became one of us, since the early days when we could suddenly be in the room with you: you, so well-liked, so sought after and admired and we could know, beaming with pride, he’s one of ours. You married the beautiful Tara and got the bunch of us, foibles and frailties and all. As mother-in-laws go, too many times, I haven’t been the one I had planned I’d be and for that, I apologize. I hope for all the times I have failed to encourage and bless you and for all the times I may still let you down in this winding path called life, you can find it possible to forgive me.
But I hope you do realize that I love and admire you and my heart is tender towards you.
Thinking about you turning 33 has had me reminiscing {of course}.
Three sweet memories on your 33rd birthday
1// I remember years ago, when your hair was longer, some person(s) started referring to you as a surfer-dude, which was a totally erroneous label just because you have the ability to adapt immediately to culturally distinct people groups, one after the other, rather effortlessly. But was a silly summation.
Because, like Paul the Apostle, you can be Greek to the Greeks and a Roman to the Romans, skater to the skaters, or mighty man of prayer among the intercessors. You are fluent in joy-speak and compassion-mixed-with-mercy is a native tongue for you. Because you’re able to adapt and flow as easily among Christian-magazine-produced minister’s meetings as you are with well-known rockers-saved-by-grace backstage at festivals, an old-timer mistakes you for merely a surfer-dude, with no offense to surfer-dudes.
It may have never bothered you a bit, but it irked me that you might be boxed in.
Because the point was and is – the apostolic anointing, the call. You fit. You have what it takes to be part of many groups and streams and situations. I so very much admire your courage and ability in this.
2// I was also remembering a late summer night in 2006 in a barn east of Brighton. It was a night of ordination, really, doors open wide and the warmth of God’s smile permeating the atmosphere. The sun dropped slowly giving way to twinkling stars signifying God’s good pleasure as rich worship rose heavenward. I watched as you and Tara, in almost a second wedding ceremony of sorts, the sacredness so palpable, became wholly united (one voice, one heart, one mission), stepping out from the safe into the holy wild. Worship and the Word Movement revealed.
And those of us in that barn that night, the small group of us privileged to stand on that holy straw-strewn ground, were witnesses to divine oil poured out from heaven. We were the yes and amen as we watched this man and this woman courageously say YES with everything they had and we stood in agreement and echoed from our hearts, yes, so be it, Lord.
You had already gathered the familia around your table a month earlier and we’d spoken blessing and prayed over you, then, for this movement-to-be. But the barn night, it was a night of nights, as we all watched you emerge, your voices blended, such power pulled from deep places of humility. You could practically hear a thunderous “This is my beloved Dave and Tara, in whom I am well-pleased.”
It was one of the most amazing and powerful nights I’ll live, I guess. I was so honored to get to be there, watching, pondering, treasuring the beauty of God’s call on you both, as one. So grateful I got to witness the birth of something of this magnitude, so full of favor.
Philippians 1:3-6 – “I thank God every time I remember you. In all my prayers…I always pray with joy…being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”
3// Then there was this festival we did together.
Man, those years meant so very much to me. In case I ever forgot to tell you or if time and circumstance has obscured the telling, thank-you for letting me be a part. I mean – God gave me something to share there, but how many men would be brave enough to let their mother-in-law be that close, anyway?
I love how God prepared me ahead of time {I still love the memory of the surprise of it} and you had the discernment to recognize and receive that and welcome me there. I will ever be grateful for that. It was the time of my life.
A blessing for you as we celebrate your life and look ahead this year…
And now, let me bless you and pray over you a little and impart some things I want you to remember. Is that ok? Let me assure you: I have asked God to edit me and I promise to do my best on letting Him! ;)
“Dave, may the Lord bless and KEEP you. May He make His face SHINE upon you and BE GRACIOUS to you; may the Lord turn His face toward you and give you PEACE.” (Numbers 6:24-26).
I bless your life, David Michael Powers. I bless the days He has planned for you and I thank God we get to be included in your fascinating so-many-cool-things-to-come story. How very wonderful for us! I bless the days we have known you so far {of course I do!} and all the ones we have left! You were uniquely crafted and specifically designed for God’s great purposes in these particular days on the earth. And to be in our familia. Now that is the coolest part!
I know God rejoiced when He was fashioning you in the secret place, and could not wait to celebrate and boast when you were born. Your parents both beam with delight when they are around you. I know they are soaking in the love of God in you, on you and through you! So I bless you to know {really know} the height, depth and breadth of His intense love for you – not for what you do or have done {as fantastic as it all is and will be}, but for who you are, as a man in his image and after His heart.
I bless your marriage to my lovely Tara-girl. She is the best thing I could ever give you. And we did so gladly present her to you at the front of that church as the setting sunbeams blazed through stained-glass windows but couldn’t hope to match the bright light of love passing between the two of you! There was not hesitation on our part in seeing her be joined to you, become one with you.
We raised Tara to be your wife, to love you, to walk in covenant with you. And we stood as witnesses that day to your marriage union and so we continue now to bless and pray protection over your marriage. We recognize what God has joined together and we pray that you are ever increased in love and oneness and laughter and mystery and discovery and romance and passion and friendship and rest. I pray that the wife of your youth will bring you joy and delight all the days of your life.
I bless you as a dad to the two magnificent grandsons you brought into my life {and God bless Hunter and Malakai!}. I pray that if there is any special grace or anointing or gift or heavenly blessing on my family of origin or me, that it be poured out on you and Tara and that through you it would be generationally passed on to Hunter-Magoo and Kai-Kai. Just the good stuff, though! :)
May each of your beautiful boys provide the opportunity for you to impart and teach and discipline and love and advise and find understanding about God’s heart towards you. And I pray you’ll have the wisdom to know how to bring them up, individually, to become the men God created them to be and that your ministry in your household will remain foremost in your heart.
And is it ok to say I am praying for increase and another blessed bundle of sweetness for you, too? Well, I am. Please do not refuse the gift of God in this area, and in fact: work for it! ;)
Worship. I bless your song, your music, your worship. I bless the psalmist in you that brings pleasure to the Father and Peace into the room. Your song opens many doors to many rooms and the song of the Lord, well, it is enemy-defeating, battle-winning treasure.
Word. I bless your leadership and pray you’ll be bold and humble and settled. I pray you’ll complete the things God started in you and through you. You have influence through your words of understanding. I remember seeing a glimpse in February 2003 and saying, “One day I’ll say ‘I knew him when..'” These are those days and I bless the work of your hands, the words of your mouth, and I pray that all the things you do and say in His name will bring God all the glory.
Movement. I bless you as a man of God, a man’s man, strong enough to be gentle. You have everything you need for the next step, the next rooms, everything. Hebrews 13:20-21 – “May the God of peace…equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.”
Finally ~ May you live securely and have full supply (full!). And may you be filled with the measure of all the fullness of God (can you even fathom what that will look like?). I pray your joy is full as you walk the steps God has ordered for you, that you are satisfied and content. But also challenged and surprised!
I pray these things with abandon, I bless you with all I have which is so limited, but also by all He is and all His promises, which are so limitless.
2 Timothy 2:1 – “You then, my son, be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus.”
And the birthday guy sings…
He’s one of my all-time favorites. Ever!
I started cautiously liking you from the time we met (May 2002, Could he be for real, I wondered?). Then, very quickly, my admiration grew and I loved you deeply. I still do and my heart is very tender towards you. Always will be. On the occasion of the celebration of your birth {Happy Birthday!}, just wanted to say so. {mom}
This is a picture of him at the age of 80. Just up on top of his 2-story home near the Lake of the Ozarks, checking something on the roof and acting goofy about it.
But that was just hamming for the camera. He was anything but goofy for real. Handsome, very affectionate and loving, constantly speaking sweet words and kind wishes and showing us how a man should love a woman (I’ve written about him and my grandma HERE, with a short video about their “Epic Love”).He was strong, he was authoritative, and I saw even my dad “behave” around his father-in-law.
He was always dressed (with a few buttons left undone) and shirt tucked in, he always had a great tan from being outdoors all the time and his hair remained jet black almost until he died at 88 or 89. He was a handsome, wonderful man and incredible dad to my mamala. And the only person in the whole wide world who called me Debbie-Jean.
I think of him often and still hold him as one of the greatest fathers (and grandfathers) of all time.
Crazy weather here. Saw a bunch of tornadoes pass through yesterday, had to pray for our eastern-plains of Colorado peeps who were banished to the basement for two hours in the height of it.
Got lots of hail. Lots! It was so loud on the roof of Chili’s last night!
More crazy today. Cold, brrrrr….rainy. And it looks like my Mother’s Day trail riding by horse in Estes Park will have to be postponed due to the 70% chance of snow they have going up there, plus a high of 37-degrees. *sigh.
Throwback Thursday #tbt dedicated to my mom because Mother’s Day is coming up.
My mom was in her mid-fifties before I actually knew her as a person. Before then she was my mom, my mom. Then, I realized she was a woman with hopes and dreams and passions and interests and that all of it had been on hold until then – because of family and church and ministry and life and obligations. Which she did fully willingly! And then…
I like her so much. I mean, yes, I love her deeply. I still hope I’ll be more like her before the end. But I also just like her as a person. Her beginnings were kind of rough. But this baby (pictured below) turned the frowns upside down, trusted God and has made so many people smile.
Here she is, all madly in love with my dad. He has been the lucky recipient of her deep devotion and zealous love for 57-58 years now.
My mom loves all creatures great and small. She really loves her horses. She became a professional horse photographer in her mid-fifties!
She was once given the nickname “Abnormal Norma.” And I guess if by “abnormal” you mean uncommon, exceptional and unexpected – then yes. She is abnormal. She is abnormally sweet and longsuffering, she is abnormally forgiving and understanding. She is abnormally optimistic and energetic for a woman of 76, or any age, really.
When we get together, we laugh. It is what we do. We laugh and until we are weak. And we do ridiculous things like this:
I consider it my mission to make sure she gets all the laughter that was allotted to her in life, even though the first 10-12 years had some really hard, laughter-stealing things.
Mother’s Day = warm weather (final frost date) gardening!
Tara planted her first boxes this year and Ryan is going to garden, too! Gavin is the old-pro by now. It’s going to be exciting as we all not only grow our own, pesticide-free goodies, but exchange recipes when we have certain crops coming out our ears!
Dave is supposed to be building me some brand new tomato boxes today, *ahem! I do not hear the hammer going.
Square Foot Gardening, people!Mel knows EVERYTHING! If you want to grow any edibles at all, please buy the book (or check it out from the library): All New Square Foot Gardening by Mel Bartholomew. I was a total city girl who thought I would never want to garden, but this book, written with concise explanations by an engineer, explains all you need to know!
Colorado is one of only 4 states with no felony penalty for repeat DUI offenders.
While it seemed widely favored on both sides of the political aisle, I am disheartened that the Senate Appropriations committee voted 4-3 to kill House Bill 1036 Felony DUI for Repeat Offenders.
“For two fundamental reasons, I cast a ‘no’ vote,” said Sen. Mary Hodge, D-Brighton, chairwoman of the Senate Appropriations Committee. “First, I think more emphasis needs to be put on addressing the disease of alcoholism and not us locking people up. Second, the bill was changed to take effect next year. Because of that, I think next year’s appropriations committee should address it.”* from The Denver Post
I am perturbed by this, so I shouldn’t say much. To me, it sounds lazy and weak – a failure in the courage it takes to address a complex issue. By saying, “I think the emphasis needs to be put on addressing the disease of alcoholism and not us locking people up,” Mary Hodge has simply passed the buck instead of the bill. Because “addressing the disease of alcoholism” is going to finally, fully happen – when? Right. Sometime in the future.
When she was in pre-school, her fav song was “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go” by Wham!and I came across this Pomplamoose version the other day. Much pretty-colored hair and reminded me of the girl who made me a mommy.
Be sure to come back tomorrow and read my love-letter and blessing to my darling daughter, whom I have loved beyond my ability to express for 35 years.
I tried to join The Empty Shelf Challenge the week between Christmas and New Years. I made myself this handy little chart and started reading like a mad woman (for me, anyway). But I’ve lost some steam. Also, I m actually reading almost everything on Kindle and I am not falling in love with digital reading. I could always fall asleep reading, but I think the light is messing with my melatonin.
Plus, I am also currently reading 6 books (never, ever one at a time, seriously), but I am a little bit uncommitted.
Every year I swear I’ll complete the reading of 52 books. Every year I am wrong.
My top three so far: Bread and Wine by Shauna Niequist, The Gifts of Imperfection by Brene Brown (on a 3rd read-through because I need it and I’m in a club) and Becoming Myself by Staci Eldredge.
I should be through the 13th book by now…How are you doing on reading in 2014? Will you make your goals? Do you think I will? Be nice.
How much do you think I love this? Yep. That much. The whole shop is filled with the cutest prints! Click above to go see!
The red-back hymnal gets noticed
I have a hymnal collection and I loooooooooove it and really the only hymnal glaringly missing, the one I probably should own, is the red-backed hymnal I grew up with. It’s actually the one I can still name song and page number to, but I got rid of the ones I had a few years ago…because I needed some distance. But I am ready to embrace a copy now. Especially now that it has gone and been honored on TBN’s presentation Of the Southern Gospel Music Guild’s annual Harmony Honors, which was hosted by Jason Crabb, the other night.
This year the Harmony Honors recognized Pathway Press as publisher of the classic “Red Back” Church Hymnal, used by thousands of churches across the South for over sixty years. Generations of gospel groups have dipped into the depths of the old “Red Back” hymnal for classic quartet and convention songs…
One day, I may even be able to come to page 333 (“Ill Fly Away”) without cringing. One day.
Ombre
Ombre hair is beautiful. But the ends should be lighter. The roots, darker. It should be like this:
Not this! And NO – this is NOT me!!! But, it will be soon if something doesn’t happen…
Time to re-color, but dang-it – I cannot get the dark stuff out I used last summer!
I started going dark brown around Christmas of 2012 and got really bold with it last June. I did this extremely deep black-brown and loved it, twice. But since, I have re-colored with brown, medium brown and light brown and I have tried color-stripper on it twice. That stuff stinks to high heaven – like rotten eggs for a week! Yuck. Just by the sheer torture I have put it through, my hair has faded some, but not all the way.
I am ready to go back to something lighter that will, *ahem, not be so highly contrasted with some certain, shall we call them, silvery strands that wish to take over my head? What in the world? Wigs may be my only, true hope…
I swear the stores are full of Joey Buttafucco pants right now
That cannot be coming back, can it? Lord, help us all!
They are being paired with cropped tops so you can get the full effect and that isn’t going to make anybody’s butt look bigger. Nooooo….just keep telling yourself that.
You had no idea what an artist I am, did you?
Wanna play Draw Something with me?
#tbt Throw-Back Thursday
This is my Grandpa and Grandma Allison and their little brood, circa 1944 or 45. I wish I’d seen this when my kids were little, I’d have tried to replicate it-you know I would have. I also had 4 daughters and one son.
Left to right, Grandpa is holding Aunt Judy, Aunt Helen was the oldest sister in the middle back, Aunt Pat near Grandpa, my mom near Grandma. Uncle Cab was on Grandma’s lap. My mamala is about 5 in this picture and I can so see the sweet gentle spirit she still possesses.
Grandma and Grandpa, also known as the epic, life-long lovers, Opal & Everett (click here), have gone on to heaven now. I don’t know, in the history of mankind, if there has been a man who loved his wife like my grandpa loved his. He adored her all the way to the end. I come from love, deep love.
My treasured Aunt Helen passed away over 20 years ago, much too young. Uncle Cab died a year and a half ago, the nicest man.
Here is my mom with her first granddaughter. Tara was about 6 or 8 months old. My raving-beauty mom was 41.
Norma Jean and Tara Jean – two of my life’s most important, most admired women.
I am sick
I don’t feeeeeeel good today. Weak, shaky, nauseous…But I think Dairy Queen could help?
You can change the world on Thursday
People think that you have to do something huge, like go to Africa and build a school, but you can make a small change in a day. If you change Wednesday, then you change Thursday. Pretty soon it’s a week, then a month, then a year. It’s bite-size, as opposed to feeling like you have to turn your life inside out to make changes. -Hoda Kotb
Go, make the world a better place! Let’s meet back here next Thursday. :)
Ok….so more technical problems…today is actually Saturday (March 1), obvi..but I wrote this Thursday. *sigh // ANYHOO-such profound thinking to follow…ha!
Throwback Thursday
I noticed recently that #throwbackthursday (as in hashtag-throw-back-Thursday) is picking up steam. It’s the chance for everybody to post those hilarious old photographs of themselves way back in the day. I can TOTALLY do Throwback-Thursday today because I have been scanning old family photos and oh, man – did I find some doozies (of OTHER people, of course).
The Moslanders, my family-of-origin, #tbt
Ross the Boss, Mrs. Moss and all the little Landers, 1975 @ Robert, Louisiana (I’m the oldest. I was 16 here)
The Sunday after Thanksgiving in 1988 in Hobart, IN (Southlake Church of God). Two words: shoulder pads!
Thirteen years later, we were all married, I had 5 kids (ages 2-9) and Tami had not grown an inch in height since she was 10 years old.
Meanwhile, I’ll call this Thought-Collage Thursday because that is what this blog is, anyway a collage! :)
I think I’m being followed.
Seriously, everywhere I go, when the Wi-Fi options come up on my phone, there is always an FBI Mobile or FBI Van #7 or some sort of FBI vehicle around. I am pretty sure I am being watched by the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Why? I do not know. If anyone questions you about me, send me a coded text to warn me, will you? Thanks!
Willie.
I have this {I own it!}, the Willie Nelson – His Hits and Finest Performances album distributed in a Reader’s Digest collection in 1987. A former co-worker gave it to me just because I have a turntable (or “record player,” as they were known while I growing up!).
And while it is packed with all the great songs you already know by Willie Nelson, there are so many great treasures I had never heard anywhere until I got this. 53 great songs on 5 LPs. Seriously, his rendition of “Let it Be Me” is the best I have ever heard of that gorgeous tune – and it has been sung by every. body!
Any song Willie Nelson sings, with that unmistakable gravel and sophistication actually just sounds more authentic and true than anyone else who ever attempts that song again. A little raw and wholly soulful, he owns any melody that comes out of that talented heart.
Other songs he covers that I would totally encourage you to try out on iTunes or Spotify: “Without a Song,” “Stardust,” and “September Song.”
February is (almost) over.
I am surprised every single year at how quickly it is gone. Every year. You’d think I’d know by now that it is going to happen.
Speaking of things I should know
When I take a drink and sort of miss my mouth…and dribble down the side – I am always appalled. Occasionally when I am eating, I bite my tongue. How is it 50-some years down the road I haven’t totally mastered these things, having practiced SO much?!
My Jesus, I Love Thee, verse 3
I love old hymns and find restoration, when I am frazzled and shredded by life, in just singing them. Modern worship is wonderful, but I am drawn to lyrics deep and timeless, to melodies that have been sung by voices before me and which will still be drifting heavenward long after I am gone.
William R. Featherston wrote the well-known, “My Jesus, I Love Thee,” as a poem when he was somewhere between 12 and 16 years of age. How does such a young man know how to communicate such depth of love?
I was playing the keyboard and singing this song the other morning and the 3rd verse caught in my throat for a minute as I wondered: Will I love Jesus as much in my death as I do in my life? Because I love life, too, really. And what if I am not happy with the whole death process? Will it make me love Him less?
But as suddenly as I questioned myself, I realized, we’re already dying anyway. Part of our living is dying. And if I am loving Jesus wholly each day in my living, then when I step through the door of death from this realm, and actually see Him face to face, Oh, yes. I will be loving Him more fully, more truly than I have ever been able.
I’ll love Thee in life, I will love Thee in death,
And praise Thee as long as Thou lendest me breath;
And say when the death dew lies cold on my brow,
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.
Adoniram Gordon added a melody to the words in 1876. And William R. Featherston died at age 27 never knowing his words would become a hymn of the deepest devotion, sung around the world and included in almost every hymnal for years to come.
1) Get the book and read it! 2) Sign up for Live Stream HERE 3) Saturday March 15, 9am-3 pm…4) While you wait, enjoy archived events from Ransomed Heart Ministries.
Here we are on day 7 of Advent and I cannot help but think of high school choir. Mrs. Weatherly stretched our 70s-pop-radio-station minds and voices when she pulled out the rugged old copies of Handel’s Messiah (1741) and taught us several numbers. At first it seemed nearly like a foreign language, but over the course of rehearsals, we came to love it, our delivery getting better, more crisp and mature. The thrill of it was getting to perform at midnight mass on Christmas Eve at the big Catholic church in town – way outside “my” church walls.
This was December 2011…how quickly they grow…
I’ve only attended a couple of full-fledged performances of traditional Messiah performances and have never managed to get to see Young Messiah (yes, they found a way to make it pop), but each time was a musical thrill and how happy I am when I can hear and quietly sing along on complicated parts (alto and second soprano) I can still remember from high school.
Comfort Ye
First the more traditional version with a full symphony if you’re up for a beautiful musical adventure. If not, I have included a second version from the The New Young Messiah (what? “young” wasn’t good enough already?!), a more contemporary rendition. It doesn’t matter how you listen, it IS the good news and a promise from God that our sins were being forgiven! Oh, yes!
Comfort ye, comfort ye My people, saith your God. Speak ye comfortably to
Jerusalem, and cry unto her, that her warfare is accomplished, that her
iniquity is pardoned. The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness,
prepare ye the way of the Lord. Make straight in the desert a highway for our God. (Isaiah 40:1-3)
I love that the God of the universe, the just and True God, the God of Righteousness and holiness still looks at us in our mess of living and says these words which have marked this year for me,
