Sliding Ninas?

"In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct your paths." (Proverbs 3:6)

I stayed home tonight.

It never ceases to amaze me how one small choice can be so impactful. Sometimes I wish the "what ifs" of my life were being filmed so I could see where different choices would lead...à la "Sliding Frasiers." (Yes, there really was an episode based on the movie "Sliding Doors.")

If I had decided to go out tonight, I would have missed two very meaningful conversations with women who "bracket" my adult life -- my best girlfriend from college whom I met about 30 years ago, and a more recent "nearest and dearest" whom I met about 3 years ago. Interestingly, both of these women have seen me at my worst, albeit at different times and in different contexts. What a blessing to have those two seasons of life converge in one evening.

My "older" friend and I never intentionally parted ways; life intervened and our paths diverged, though the love never waned. Tonight was a reconnection of unexpected depth and excitement that we'll soon be living in the same area and have the chance to rebuild our friendship in this season of life -- as wives and mothers who have experienced some tough times on the journey and become stronger and healthier for it. My newer friend has recently moved away, but I'm moving away, too, so it's not going to matter; with cell phones and Facebook, we are sure to stay in touch; at least that's our hope and prayer. Hard to imagine not being as close as we are now. However, life could intervene and our paths might diverge and we might find ourselves reconnecting as eighty-year-old women!

If I hadn't stayed home, I wouldn't have the delight of pondering all of this. Of course it's entirely possible that something else equally delightful would have happened.

But I'll never know.

Pondering Tucson

Things I will miss:

More than 350 days of sunshine a year (the most in the U.S.!!)

The majesty of the mountains (especially the Catalinas which we see from our home)

Amazing sunsets

The shadows of the clouds and the sunsets changing the color of the Catalinas

Mexican Bird of Paradise flowers

Cacti (especially sahuaros and prickly pears when laden with fruit)

Eegee's (fruit slushies only found in Tucson)

Lightning storms

Left turn arrows *after* the green light, not before (makes so much more sense!!)

Things I won't miss:

Oppressive heat (avg. of 55 days over 100 per year...mostly in the summer)

Rain in the summer (everyone loves the monsoons, except for me!)

Lack of freeway to travel across town

Having a non-hub airport (much fewer flight options)

The long drive to Phoenix if I want to go to a "big city" event.

The accidents on the road

Snowbirds

I might think of more later, but that's all for now!

Clueless

Lots of people (including me) have questions about our move, so here is the catch-all answer:

I DON'T KNOW

This applies to: the town in which we will live, when we will officially move, if we are going to sell or rent out our house, when I am going to leave my job, when I am going to officially move, where Glenn is going to live while he's in CA and I'm not, where we will go to church, if I will get a job when I get to CA...I'm sure there are other things I can't think of at the moment.

It's really quite something to know so little about my own life.

Ultimately, the answer lies in one of my favorite quotes -- "Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to an all-knowing God."

"Ignorance is bliss" sounds pretty good at this point, too.

Right Back Where I Started From

[cringe]

OK, I'll admit it...typing the title was painful; not emotionally, but grammatically. It should be "right back from where I started" but that wouldn't rhyme with "California, here I come" and then there wouldn't be a song, and then it wouldn't be stuck in my head, which at this point would be just fine with me.

Imagine "California, Here I Come" and "Get Back" by The Beatles playing at the same time; that's what's been in my brain for the past 24 hours. It's not a good mash-up. MAKE IT STOP!!!!

Get back, JoJo...

Extraordinary Gifts

Each day is a gift; every now and then, there comes a day that is an extraordinary gift. Yesterday was such a day.

It didn't start so well...I tripped over one of my shoes and fell backward onto my well padded derrière and my right arm. My right shoulder is already pretty messed up (I really do need to go see my doc when I get home!) so I needed some Advil right away. My whole body felt a bit rattled...ah, the joys of "pushing 50." Took a little while to shake that off, but once I got dressed, I was ready for our adventure.

We figured out the route from Salem to Newport, though there was conflicting info between Google Maps and Jenny's GPS about how long the drive would be. No matter...it was such a gorgeous day, any length of drive would have been fine. "Scenic" doesn't do it justice. These eyes, used to looking at desert landscape, were feasting on all the green trees, lush lawns, and so many kinds of flowers along the way. As we neared our destination, The Chowder Bowl, we were delighted to see the cute town of Newport --Lots of little shops and cafés, a few higher- end restaurants, and the ocean (!!!!) just a few blocks away.

We met up with our friend, Anna, and a couple of friends she's brought to Oregon while on fall break from college. We had a warming lunch involving various combinations of fried or grilled seafood and shellfish, and wonderful clam chowder...each bowl with a little bit of butter floating on top; perfect on a crisp autumn day.

The weather was glorious -- a few wispy clouds in an otherwise clear blue sky. I didn't need to wear a sweatshirt under my jacket, but the scarf Jenny loaned me was nice to keep the wind off my neck. I never felt cold, just a bit nippy at times. We split off from the younger girls and walked slowly along the beach, the sun so bright and the water so glistening. I love the ocean's roar -- just loud enough to be background music to our deep conversation. We found a rock formation to sit and lie on, and as we began to pray together, I got the sense of being on God's large lap. The rock was unexpectedly comfortable, and we stayed there for quite awhile, talking and praying, until...

Jenny saw a sea lion!! It was about 50 feet from us. We jumped up, and watched it lift its head up to the sky, looking almost royal as it did...and then it would plop down and rest for awhile, and then crawl for a bit, and then plop down again. It seemed to be trying to make its way to the ocean, but having some trouble. We weren't sure what to do. Our young friends came over to see this wonderful creature, and we were all concerned for it, but again, at a loss for what to do. Another couple came by and said they thought they'd seen a sign with a phone number on it, so I investigated and found out the sea lion might have some kind of bacterial infection in its kidneys and the only thing to do was to leave it alone and let it rest. Plus the disease it might have is transmittable to humans...glad none of us touched the poor thing!

We went on our way, walking and talking and praying and soaking up the sun and the air and the sea. We said goodbye to the beach and explored the town a little. Took a long walk to find an ice cream shop because I always want ice cream on a trip to the beach (something left over from my childhood, I think). Caramel apple ice cream with big chunks of apple...something I'd not had before...frozen apple reminded me a lot of frozen grapes (which I love)...very refreshing and icy. Long walk back to the car and then the drive home, with an amazing sunset behind us. Jenny and I both agree we want to come back to Newport and explore it more. I'm sure she'll make it there long before I will, but I look forward to hearing about her next adventure in that cute town.

Back home, we brought out the bottle of champagne I'd bought and Erich, Jenny and I toasted their new home and new life and our friendship. And I gave them the "memory book" I'd put together from their going-away party. Lots of pictures and handwritten notes from friends. I love putting things together, with little scrapbooking decorations to make it more personal and special. I can't draw to save my life, but I can put stickers on things in a cute enough way! :)

Jenny and I then went out for a very late dinner at La Capitale, which is the only French restaurant in Salem, I think. (Aside from the coffee and crepe place, which we will visit for breakfast tomorrow.) We both felt more in the mood for nibbles than a meal, so we ordered fried almonds with sea salt and also parsnip chips to start. Unusual things, and so delicious. We then split an order of escargots with hazelnuts (loved the texture and flavor!) and then shared a charcuterie tray (different meats, olives, pickled veggies) and a cheese tray (3 kinds of cheese, with chutney and candied hazelnuts, and a few fruits). It was perfect, along with a lovely red wine.

I sat there, thinking not only about the day, but about the gift of this friendship. Jenny has seen me at my worst, and at my most desperate, and she loves me still. She isn't afraid of my intensity. I don't have to hold back anything when I'm with her. We laugh hard and pray harder. We both love food and wine and all things French (she's actually French and fluent; I'm just a wannabe!). We walk together on the journey of healing, on the journey toward Jesus, being gutly honest with Him (and each other) about what's going on in our lives and our souls. To find this sense of safety with one another is more than a blessing.

All friendships are gifts; this one, like the day we shared yesterday, is an extraordinary gift.

I am so thankful.

Coldness

The chill of brisk autumn air on my face

after being inside all day

feels wonderful.

A cold lick of an ice cream cone

under the hot summer sun

brings a delightful chill.

BUT

Words from a friend

said with no compassion

bring a different chill to my bones.

Accusations and a slamming door

(with no room for discussion)

are harsher than a New York City blizzard.

Silence after pouring out my heart

and waiting and waiting for any response

feels icy cold to me.

Brain freeze?

I think I have soul freeze.

A Veritable Smorgasbord!

"He escorts me to the banquet hall; it's obvious how much he loves me."

-- Song of Songs 2:4 (NLT)

"He has taken me to the banquet hall, and his banner over me is love." (NIV)

----------------

You prepare a table before me

even though the meal isn't quite ready

i can smell its fragrance

and i know good things are being prepared

when the time comes to feast

it's going to be more than satisfying

You are the Master Chef

Lover of My Soul

Lover of My Soul
When I see the winter turning into spring,
Oh, it speaks to this heart of mine more than anything.
Underneath a blanket of snow cold and white,
Something is stirring in the still of the night.

When the sun comes up slowly with the dawn,
Oh, this is the kind of feeling that I hang my hope upon.
There is a love and beauty in all that I see
And no one, nobody is explaining You to me.

Chorus:
And maybe my eyes can't see
But You are surrounding me
Here in the wind and rain,
The things that I know.
Tender and sweet
And strong as my need
I know the voice, I know the touch,
Lover of my soul.

When the evening sun slowly fades to red
And time and time and time again I whisper in my head,
"Give me grace, give me strength to fully believe
That the maker of this whole wide world is a father to me."

---------------------------------
I love that song by Amy Grant. The Lord is the Lover of my soul. He speaks to me through His creation, wooing me, calling to me, drawing me to the only place my deepest longings will be filled. I love the line "Tender and sweet and strong as my need." He knows what I need. The Creator of the Universe also formed me in my mother's womb and created my fingerprints and my curly hair :) ...and loves me enough to care about the cries of my heart.

What an amazing God is He.

Beloved, Part II

My friend, Randy Chase, posted the second half of the Nouwen quote from the other day... and I wanted to share it, too.

“I am putting this so directly and so simply because, though the experience of being the Beloved has never been completely absent from my life, I never claimed it as my core truth. I kept running around it in large or small circles, always looking for someone or something able to convince me of my Belovedness. It was as if I kept refusing to hear the voice that speaks from the very depth of my being and says: “You are my Beloved, on you my favor rests.” That voice has always been there, but it seems that I was much more eager to listen to the other, louder voices saying: “Prove that you are worth something; do something relevant, spectacular, or powerful, and then you will earn the love you so desire.” Meanwhile, the soft, gentle voice that speaks in the silence and solitude of my heart remained unheard or, at least, unconvincing."

"That soft, gentle voice that calls me the Beloved has come to me in countless ways. My parents, friends, teachers, students, and many strangers who crossed my path have all sounded that voice in different tones. I have been cared for by many people with much tenderness and gentleness. I have been taught and instructed with much patience and perseverance. I have been encouraged to keep going when I was ready to give up and was stimulated to try again when I failed. I have been rewarded and praised for success…but, somehow, all of these signs of love were not sufficient to convince me that I was the Beloved. Beneath all my seemingly strong self-confidence there remained the question: “If all those who shower me with so much attention could see me and know me in my innermost self, would they still love me?” That agonizing question, rooted in my inner shadow, kept persecuting me and made me run away from the very place where that quiet voice calling me the Beloved could be heard.

I think you understand what I am talking about. Aren’t you, like me, hoping that some person, thing, or event will come along to give you that final feeling of inner well-being you desire? Don’t you often hope: “May this book, idea, course, trip, job, country, or relationship fulfill my deepest desire.” But as long as you are waiting for that mysterious moment you will go on running helter-skelter, always anxious and restless, always lustful and angry, never fully satisfied. You know that this is the compulsiveness that keeps us going and busy, but at the same time makes us wonder whether we are getting anywhere in the long run. This is the way to spiritual exhaustion and burn-out. This is the way to spiritual death.

Well, you and I don’t have to kill ourselves. We are the Beloved. We are intimately loved long before our parents, teachers, spouses, children, and friends loved or wounded us. That’s the truth of our lives. That’s the truth I want you to claim for yourself. That’s the truth spoken by the voice that says, “You are my Beloved.”

Listening to that voice with great inner attentiveness, I hear at my center words that say: “I have called you by name, from the very beginning. You are mine and I am yours. You are my Beloved, on you my favor rests. I have molded you in the depths of the earth and knitted you together in your mother’s womb. I have carved you in the palms of my hands and hidden you in the shadow of my embrace. I look at you with infinite tenderness and care for you with a care more intimate than that of a mother for her child. I have counted every hair on your head and guided you at every step. Wherever you go, I go with you, and wherever you rest, I keep watch. I will give you food that will satisfy all your hunger and drink that will quench all your thirst.” (P. 33-37.)

I wish I could say I only knew the voices of people who have believed in me and affirmed me throughout my life. But, the truth is in spite of all the encouragement I have received, there still are times when I doubt what I have heard and feel like I am invisible and forgotten. It is then that God reminds me that no matter what I feel, He is always there...inviting me to believe in what He says about me and choosing to build my life upon what He says is true.

Babbling on Dabbling

Today I dabbled in art for the first time in over 4 years. I was shamed by an art teacher when I was very young, and have been afraid of drawing, painting, etc. ever since. I did have a wonderful art teacher in 4th grade, but the damage had been done; in 5th grade (maybe it was 6th?) I was given the choice between art or wood shop and I never stepped foot into an art class again.

Today is "24-Hour Comics" day and Glenn and Caleb are participating. I knew there was no way I could stay up for 24 hours, let alone draw a comic, but I thought it might be fun to get some oil pastels and dabble a little bit while the guys planned out their storyboards and drew their characters. I Googled "oil pastels beginner" and found the instructions and projects to be too advanced for me! "Oil pastels kids" produced some ideas that were more my speed.

The winter tree is a copy of one of the projects I found. The geometric one is an idea that came into my head, but it didn't quite turn out the way I wanted. Still, it was fun to use bold colors and experiment.

I have to say, I'm really happy with the tree. It's funny, the very first thing I ever learned to draw (a *very* simplistic line drawing, that is) was a tree. The last time I painted, which was over four years ago, I painted a tree. (I'll post a picture of that sometime, I'm sure.) Trees speak to me -- their roots going deep into the soil; the bearing of fruit or flowers; the leaves turning, dying, falling; branches bare in winter, held high in worship to the Creator, trusting that new growth will come in the spring.

Summer is just ending here in Tucson, but for me it's been a long, hard winter. I want to be like the tree I drew today...roots going deep, arms and hands raised, trusting my Creator for new life to sprout whenever the next season comes.