Wednesday, August 28, 2013

47 Bug Bites

I was going to wax poetical about 47 bug bites being the definition of a great time camping....

Except 47 bug bites itch like crazy.  I woke myself up twice in the night, scratching at angry welts.  And even now as I sit here, I'm aching to reach down and give three on the back of my calf a good, hard scratch.

But, 47 bug bites are worth it for a good weekend.  I swear.  Or at least, I'll swear that in a week when the itching has stopped!

It was a weekend of blackberry picking, impromptu dance parties, summer homework, smores, tractor rides and tractor driving, and so much fun.  There is nothing like watching Grandma and Grandpa walk down from their house to have blueberry pancakes with us around the fire.  It is literally priceless.









We've already marked our calendars for next year!

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

The Poetry Of Prayer

There is a poetry in prayer
A sweet sound to God's ear
The prayers I say, the prayers I think
The prayers I breath in and out like air
The words well up in my soul, flow from my heart
In joy or sorrow or thanksgiving
Praise or adoration or need
A rhythm of words
Of heart felt desire
Of love and peace and hope
Glory to God in all things
In all ways

Monday, August 26, 2013

You Know What They Say About Blessings And Disguises....

When my son calls in the late hours, it is never a good thing.  It usually involves the car and some variation of its barely held togetherness coming un-held.  So when the phone rang at 9:30 pm, it was no exception.

I left the house in under a minute, wearing old work clothes that I'd never usually wear out in public and arrived on the scene wondering if we could just get the car to limp its way home.  We could not.

Our adventure began!

We called our roadside assistance to get a tow and we settled down to wait for an estimated hour.

Now, if you've never been stuck in a car late at night with your 18 year old son who you miss very much and hardly ever see anymore, with his cell phone dying and your cell phone being held in reserve for the tow truck to call, well, I highly recommend it!

Under the starry sky, in our dark car, we talked and listened and talked and even though our roadside assistance failed us and never actually sent the call on to the tow truck company and it made our "one hour" more like two and I didn't get to bed until 12:30, it was a very nice time, one I am so glad to have had!

Friday, August 16, 2013

18 Years Ago.....

18 years ago, exactly at 8:31 in the clear light of morning,
We met.
Dr. Roberts held you up, and said,
"It's a boy!"
And in that instant
The love I'd known for you for the last 8 months
Paled in comparison to the love that exploded in my soul.
I marveled at your perfection,
The obvious intelligence shining in your eyes,
The promise of joy unparalleled.
I held you and drank you in,
Barely able to share you with your Dad,
So content to feel your weight in my arms.
My life became infinitely, wonderfully, complicatedly, amazingly better,
At exactly 8:31 AM, 18 years ago today.


Happy Birthday David!

Saturday, August 10, 2013

The Difference In A Year

Last September, I was a barely turned 38 and if anyone accidentally said I was 39, I was quick to say they were wrong.  I was not even close to 39.  Don't even whisper that wrong number in association with me!  I was just 38.

But as with every year, as the months ticked by, the idea that the next, bigger, number was ahead of me started to not be so awful and by the end of July I was mentally reminding myself that I am not 39.  I am still 38.

Until tomorrow! Tomorrow, 39 awaits me.

But the day after tomorrow, please don't refer to me as 40.  I need to get the feel of 39 first!

Monday, August 5, 2013

Never Too Old

Long legs long ago said goodbye to footed pajamas
Hands that no longer bring Lambie to bed
A mostly grown full size person
But when she asked
"Can I sleep with you?"
Mom and Dad part
And our baby climbed in
Comfort needed,
Gladly given

Sunday, August 4, 2013

A Life Well Done

My father in law passed away Monday.

That night, as I fitfully dozed, I dreamed we were back at the cabin in the mountains, where we had just spent a wonderful family vacation a few weeks ago.  We were all seated at the big dining room table, but he was standing on the porch, the door wide open, the brilliant Eastern Washington sun blazing behind him.

He half turned, looking over his shoulder, and asked his wife, "Did I do okay?"

I woke up crying.

He did so much better than just 'okay'!  He'd met his perfect partner in his wife, and for 41 years their strengths and weaknesses complimented each other as they lived life fully, with many wonderful adventures to their name. He had three sons who are three really good men, and I'm not just saying that because I married one.  His sons are a testament to him and his kindness, his love, his integrity, his urge to learn new things and the need to see what is over the next ridge.  They are good fathers because he showed them how it was done.   His four teenage grandchildren have been blessed to grow up knowing him, listening to his stories, laughing at his jokes, and loving every minute of time spent with him.  His newest grandson, just a few days old, will know him too, because each one of us has memories we treasure, and can't wait to share.

His faith, his words and his deeds touched so many people, all around the world.  

And I, well, I was lucky enough to have been called family.