Joyful Waiting

As I was reading through some of the mass reading for this week I was struck by all the references to Mary’s and Elizabeth’s pregnancies. Mary was pregnant with Jesus, the Savior of the world and Elizabeth, though old in age, became pregnant with John the Baptist, the herald of Jesus.  It reminded me of my two girls who are also pregnant together. In their case Annie is the oldest and Mary the youngest.

 Mary and Elizabeth both were in wonder of their pregnancies because they carried children of prophecy. Annie and Mary, though not carrying children of some ancient prophecy, are carrying children who are an answer to prayer. This summer, while visiting one of my dear prayer partners in Minnesota  I enjoyed an extended prayer time with some members of her church. I did pray that both girls would be pregnant at the same time. I can honestly say that I wasn’t really thinking of Mary and Elizabeth, but I was thinking that it would be nice if the girls had children who would grow up together. They, themselves, did not have any cousins their own age to play with, and I always thought that to be a family loss. However, this time things will be different thanks to the some divine intervention.

Throughout the pregnancies of Mary and Elizabeth there appears to be a focus on joyful waiting. We can see this in Mary’s great prayer, the Magnificat and in Elizabeth’s husband Zecharias’ song.  I, too, am caught in joyful waiting for the birth of these two little ones. Waiting causes the mind to play out various scenarios of the babies’ births. Annie is due on Palm Sunday (March 24) and Mary Rose on Easter Sunday (March 31).Visions of bunnies and lambs having an Easter egg throwing contest is a funny thought. Could there be a St. Patrick’s Day or St. Joseph’s Day birth? Red and green, green and red…it’s Christmas again! I do hope each baby has his/her own birthday.  However, waiting is always best spent praying.  Just like Mary and Zecharias, time in prayer praising God for the gift of new life and the endless possibilities in the lives of these yet unborn children is a wonderful way to wait.  

I think, this principle of joyful waiting can be applied to other situations as well. Waiting for the results of a medical test or treatment, the results of an employment interview, a marriage proposal, a bid on a new home, these can all be causes of anxiety rather than joy. Considering the age of Elizabeth and the circumstances of Mary’s conception, these would both be cause of much worry, apprehension and uncertainty. Instead, both responses to the anticipation of these births were joy.

First, Mary’s joyful response:

My soul magnifies the Lord
And my spirit rejoices in God my Savior;
Because he has regarded the lowliness of his handmaid;
For behold, henceforth all generations shall call me blessed;
Because he who is mighty has done great things for me,
and holy is his name;
And his mercy is from generation to generation
on those who fear him.
He has shown might with his arm,
He has scattered the proud in the conceit of their heart.
He has put down the mighty from their thrones,
and has exalted the lowly.
He has filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he has sent away empty.
He has given help to Israel, his servant, mindful of his mercy
Even as he spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his posterity forever. (Luke 1:46-66)

Then Zechariah’s song:

“Praise be to the Lord, the God of Israel,
    because he has come to his people and redeemed them.
⁶⁹ He has raised up a horn^[a] of salvation for us
    in the house of his servant David
⁷⁰ (as he said through his holy prophets of long ago),
⁷¹ salvation from our enemies
    and from the hand of all who hate us—
⁷² to show mercy to our ancestors
    and to remember his holy covenant,
⁷³     the oath he swore to our father Abraham:
⁷⁴ to rescue us from the hand of our enemies,
    and to enable us to serve him without fear
⁷⁵     in holiness and righteousness before him all our days. (Luke 1:67-75)

I have to give it to Luke, the gospel writer of these passages, for focusing on joy. He also gives some advice to those who are fraught with disquiet, distress and doubt. I think that this is particularly directed to women, whose emotions are more easily manipulated:

“Blessed is she who has believed that what the Lord has said to her will be accomplished.” (Luke 1:45)

I pray for a strengthening of faith for myself, family and friends that will bring waiting filled with joy!

HAPPY 2013! 

Of Weddings and Babies or The Nesting Instinct

I'm back. It's been a long time since I wrote a blog. What may you ask, have I been doing all this time? My response, simply nesting. Just like birds, dogs and pregnant women, I've been nesting. I have been preparing a place for my growing family.

The announcement for the first addition, a new grandchild, began in January of 2011, when my married daughter and son-in-law surprised me and my husband with dinner and a cookie dessert that read, "Congratulations Grandma & Grandpa." I remember how utterly thrilled and surprised I was. In months that followed there were many nesting activities that included shopping for baby everything: clothes, furniture, toys, and even baby gadgets like video monitors. Also, baby showers and baby books updated me so I could create the most modern of nests. As part of the new nesting I was doing, I had to re-learn how to change a diaper (like riding a bike, one never forgets) and learn something called "swaddling." The only swaddling that I was familiar with prior to my granddaughter's birth was the verse from Luke 2:7 "And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn." All I could picture was baby Jesus wrapped up in what always looks like rolls of gauze without showing arms and legs. Well, I certainly discovered the benefits of swaddling, which is wrapping the baby with legs crossed and folded and arms at sides. According to some, this type of care is referred to as the "fourth trimester," or a way to re-create for the infant the confined quarters of mom's womb. Swaddling is suppose to make the baby feel safely secure for undisturbed sleeping. Yes, it does work and I did eventually get better at doing a crisp inside fold to make the swaddle tight. Swaddling...all part of nesting.

Perfectly swaddled or not, the joy that comes from holding, cuddling, and kissing my granddaughter is incomparable. Perhaps it comes closest to seeing a miracle unfold before your eyes. Yes, Miraculous, that is indeed the birth and life of every new child that comes into our world.

Ecclesiastes 11:5

Just as you cannot understand the path of the wind or the mystery of a tiny baby growing in its mother's womb, so you cannot understand the activity of God, who does all things.

Now, the other part of my nesting happened last Spring, when my younger daughter got engaged to another superior-son-in-law. It is just wonderful to be caught up in their love for each other, but weddings also require nesting, and some elaborate ones at that. From ceremonies, receptions, showers, dresses, tuxedos, invitations, flowers, decorations, programs, photographers, videogaphers, etc, etc. The wedding nest has a way of becoming very intricate even when the couples' taste is simple. It's just the natural order of wedding nesting, I guess.

However, the real foundation for the nest is always love, the kind of love mentioned by Paul in Corinthians 13.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. it always protects, always trust, always hopes, always perseveres. It never fails.

It gives me great joy to see that kind of Corinthian love in my younger daughter and future son-in-law. I can't wait to see the completion of their wedding nest on their special day. It, too, will be one of God's miracles, the giving and receiving of love. One final thought. I once heard it said that a wedding is one of the few times when you get an opportunity to gather with all the people you love in one place.at one time. For me, that's the best definition of a love nest that's out there.

St. Patrick & St. Joseph

This week marks the celebration of two ethnically associated saints. We mark the feast of St. Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland on March 17. A couple of days later on March 19, the feast of St. Joseph, husband of Mary and step-dad of Jesus, the son of God. Both of these saints have many stories and traditions associated with them.

St. Patrick, for example, supposedly used a shamrock, which conveniently grew in Ireland, to point out the miracle of the Trinity, as three persons in one. He used the shamrock because it was already considered a sacred plant by the pagan Druids and being practical (which I believe most saints were) tried to make a connection to something with which his audience was familiar.

There is a lot of dancing, parading, toasting and wearing of the green to celebrate this great saint's feast. My children love the parades while I like sitting down with my husband in front of the television watching, "The Quiet Man," for the umpteenth time, while sipping on tea and soda bread. Yet, in the midst of all this revelry I do like to take some time each year to quietly read through Patrick's Confession and "Letter of Coroticus," which put me more in touch with the person of St. Patrick than any parade or movie can. My favorite part of Patrick's work is his "breastplate" also called a "lorica," which is a rhythmical prayer calling on spiritual armor for divine protection. It reminds me of the passage from Ephesians 6:10-18 that also talks about putting on "the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devils' schemes."

I strongly recommend that a real celebration of Patrick's life for anyone would include reading both the passage from Ephesians and the Lorica itself. With the scope of recent political, economic, and natural disasters Godly protection is what we all need. Here is just a part of that ancient prayer of Patrick:

Christ be with me, Christ within me

Christ behind me, Christ before me,

Christ beside me, Christ to win me,

Christ to comfort and restore me,

Christ beneath me, Christ above me,

Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,

Christ is hearts of all that love me,

Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

St. Joseph, whose feast is celebrated two days after Patrick on March 19, is considered a favored saint of both the Italians and Polish. He is also considered the Patron Saint of Families. Celebrations of his feast usually include tables of ethnic specialties. Since St. Joseph's Day usually falls during the time of Lent, if it is on a Friday (which requires fasting from meat), you are exempt from the fast, so you can participate in the festivities of the feast. Celebrating the life of St. Joseph, the consummate family man, by getting together with family and friends seems a very natural way to celebrate this man's life. For me St. Joseph's Day will always remind me of my father, since his name was Joseph and he so enjoy receiving special cards and goodies on March 19. Biblically speaking, Joseph does not. There are no words of his recorded in the Bible. Instead, he acts. Rather, he obeys. An angel appeared to Joseph three times, first to tell him not to divorce Mary because she was really pregnant by the Holy Spirit, not another man. Twice more an angel appeared to Joseph, telling him to leave town for Egypt because soldiers were out to kill his son. Later, the angel came again to say that it was now safe to leave Egypt and return to Nazareth. Also, scripture says that Joseph was the one who named Jesus, because that was the name given him by the angel, Matt. 1:21 "She will give birth to a son and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins." Joseph, definitely a man, not of words, but action. Though we have no definitive words from Joseph; his actions speak much louder than any words could have. Reflecting on this, maybe a better the way to celebrate St. Joseph's Day, would be to spend some quiet time seeking the Lord. There may not be any angel visitations, but maybe in the quietness of the moment, God's voice will be strong enough to hear his calling into our lives in the same way Joseph did.

Patrick, a man of words, who preached and converted a nation.

Joseph, a man of visions, who listened and acted to protect a son.

BLESSINGS TO ALL!

FREEDOM

Last week PBS featured an amazing program. 2011 is the 25th anniversary of the musical, "Les Miserables," which is, by far, my all time favorite musical. The songs when combined with the story of a man who seeks redemption and restoration for his sin by loving others and then turning his love to God, captivates one's heart, mind and soul. This production featured all the songs and story lines from the play without full staging and props. As I sat back and watched I especially took note of the songs of the young "schoolboys," who were captured up by the ideals of the French Revolution Liberté, égalité, fraternité, French for "Liberty, equality, fraternity (brotherhood). Those same ideals later transferred to our own American Revolution and came out as ,"life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." Those images of the school boys at the barricades waving the French flag and proclaiming freedom for all, drew for me an astounding parallel to the recent revolution in Egypt; which, thank the Lord, was more peaceful than both the American and French Revolutions. The other Middle Eastern revolutions do not look as peaceful.

However, revolutions they all are indeed. People seeking freedom to express their ideas and ideals about the ways of government. People seeking equality of opportunity and decrying the corruption of their leaders. I was so taken by the program that I decided to start reading Victor Hugo's original work on which the play is based. I was confronted by this line from the preface, "So long as there shall exist, by virtue of law and custom, decrees of damnation pronounced by society, artificially creating hells amid the civilization of earth, and adding the element of human fate to divine destiny; so long as the three great problems of the century-the degradation of man through pauperism, the corruption of woman through hunger, the crippling of children through lack of light---are unsolved; so long as social asphyxia is possible in any part of the world;--in other words, and with still wider significance, so long as ignorance and poverty exist on earth, books of the nature of Les Miserables cannot fail to be of use." The story of Les Miserables is as poignant and piercing today as when it was published in 1862. Yes indeed, exploitation of women, poverty, and the crippling of children from a variety of social problems such as neglect, divorce, and abuse, all exist today. Unfortunately, they exit not only in countries with dictators, but also countries, like our own democracy. What's to be done to restore freedom both here and abroad?

I suggest we pray, like never before, for those who are seeking freedom from oppression and freedom from want, here in America and in the Middle East; that once free they will have an encounter with the only one who can grant permanent freedom, now and forever: Jesus Christ.

To the Jews who had believed him, Jesus said, “If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. 32Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” John 8:32

The Nuns: The Original Tiger Moms

Whether they be Tiger Moms (Asian moms who apply strict discipline to their children in order to focus on expectations of excellence along with a deep respect for parental authority and devotion), or Soccer Moms (suburban moms who spend an inordinate amount of time transporting their children to various sporting events in order to foster athletic prowess), when in comes to high expectations and strict discipline using a variety of methods, which by today's educational standards would be labeled abusive, no mom beats the good sisters or " s'ters."

They had a style all their own. Their goal was to transform a classroom full (and I mean full, sometimes as many as 50 children in one class) of assorted children into respectful, God-fearing, hardworking adults.

Respect was indeed the order of the day. When a nun walked into the room, everyone stood up as a sign of respect for her position as teacher and as someone on the path to sainthood. "Good morning S'ter," we all chanted together. Woe to the sleepy student who failed to instantly stand at attention. Writing out the sentence, "I should stand when Sister enters the room," 100 times would be a fair punishment. Of course, one's punishment always had to be signed by one's parents who would deal out another lecture on respect and perhaps another punishment.

Proverbs 1:7 states that "The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge..." I think that some nuns may have emphasized the importance of bone-chilling, sweat-dosing and nightmare-making fear of God, to the degree that some of their students did not encounter the image of a loving Father ( Prodigal Son Dad), until later in life. This God runs to meet us with open arms when we call on him in the midst of the effects of our self-indulgent lives. Fear of mediocrity is what seems to govern the lives of the Tiger Moms, yet fear of the Lord comes from not running from God, but to Him when one realizes the depth of one's sin and its consequences. As Chevy Chase used to say on Saturday Night Live, "I'm Chevy Chase and you're not."Well, keeping the fear of the Lord in one's mind can be as simple as saying, "You're God and I'm not."

Hard work. I was raised on it, not only at home, but daily in the classroom with the nuns. Drill, drill, drill. Whether it be multiplication tables or verb conjugations. There was no thought given to making our lessons "fun" or adaptive to different learning styles. Memorization and drill is just that, memorization and drill. And it is because of those rigorous drills that today I can do simple math problems in my head without the aid of a calculator compared to many of today's students who have difficulty doing simple computations without an electronic gadget.

Also, there was no attention paid to our little egos. We all knew who the brainiacs were and were often reminded of the fact that the rest of us were intellectually limited. Just think about all those reading groups. They were not designed to help us climb the educational ladder as much as giving stature, early on, to those who were academically gifted. Tiger Moms would applaud the nuns for this, since they believe that excellence over ego is the only thing that matters.

So that's it, I've stated my comparisons and invite you to let me know what you think.

I would strongly recommend any educator and/or mom, to read the article about Tiger Moms in last week's Time magazine. Here's the link:

http://www.time.com/time/nation/article/0,8599,2043313,00.html

There's lots of food for thought and discussion in terms of our own experiences and those to come of future generations.

"Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it."

Proverbs 22:6

Putzing Around on my IPAD

After the presents had been opened, dishes washed and floors swept, it would finally be time for me to indulge myself in an experience that my mother often referred to as "putzing around." You know, doing absolutely nothing by doing everything. Moving magazines, newspapers and advertising flyers from one pile to another, rearranging the pillows on the couch, checking the contents of the refrigerator, petting the dog, dusting some shelves that really don't need dusting, looking over the mail, seeing if the garbage cans need emptying, etc...etc...etc. My mom was the queen of putzing around. Today's woman, however, hardly has time to just putz. We are the multi-taskers, not the putzers; scaling the heights of our professions, whether they be home bound (the Martha Stewarts of the world), or workplace bound (the Hillary Clinton types); today's woman has nary the time to putz. But, this Christmas vacation, I putzed in a very techie way. I putzed on my new IPad and loved every minute.

Why rearrange those couch pillows when I could play a quick game of Mahjong or Scrabble? It's too cold to go to the Art Institute, so instead I put together puzzles of the great masters like Monet, Vermeer, Van Gogh, and Botticelli to name just a few. I can also read sections of various newspapers, that I oh so missed doing because of the escalating subscription fees. The Wall Street Journal, USA Today, and The New York Times are all free. Yahoo!! AARP and Life Magazines are also free. I just finished reading my first e-book on the Kindle app (application). It wasn't free, but it was a great way to read in bed with low light since the Ipad is back-lit and I can adjust the size of the font, which is great for a four eyes like me. I was also able to download some free classic books like Jane Austen's entire collection. I love going back to 18th century England. However, I think that only the wealthy ladies of distinction had time to putz. The rest were busy feathering those chickens and milking those cows.

I can even create on the Ipad with an app that's called "PortaPoet" that helps you write and rhyme your poetry. Here's my first:

Hope in a new year.

Now no more fear.

Just look around and cheer

And have another beer!

Putzing around with poetry for sure!

I have arranged my apps in different files and I always start my day, not putzing, but praying. I have a Devotional file with Bible quotes, C.S. Lewis quotes, Daily Mass Readings with a listing and short bio of the saint of the day. Today is the feast of St. Elizabeth Seton. In addition there's a Bible Answer Game that sings out "Alleluia" when your answer is correct and a crash of thunder when you're wrong. It's easy to read or reference various Bible translations that are free with an app called "Touch Bible." Verses are easy to find with a spin on a drum that lists the translation (NIV, ESV, WEB, etc.), book and verse. I also found a free devotional called "TODAY" that starts with a scripture reading and ends with a short prayer.

My "Heritage"app by fotopedia takes me around the world for viewing spectacular sites complete with historical information and those detailed satellite Google maps. Speaking of history, each day I can check what happened on that date centuries ago with my free "On This Day" app. Today, January 4th, The New York Stock Exchange opened its first permanent headquarters at 10-12 Broad near Wall Street in New York City. How's that for putzing around the world and through history?

My recommendation is to take some time this year putzing around with an Ipad. If you don't own one, I'm sure you know someone who does. Try it, the putzing path is worth the price.

Favorite Christmas Books

I've always been a book person. Someone who loves to read and talk about books. I find them both informative and a simple way to escape the mundaneness of daily existence. With a book I can immediately be transported to a different time and place. I can become engaged in the conversations of the high and low of humanity instantaneously. Christmas books, I think, offer a plethora of pleasures that can't be matched with the fare on film, be it television or the movies.

My first favorite is The Golden Christmas Book, circa 1947. The book has a picture of Santa with laughing, angelic children on his lap,and a paper Christmas tree on the inside cover that crinkled when I opened the book. It was filled with stories of elves, angels, and good boys and girls preparing for Christmas by trying to make things right.

Reading Christmas stories to my own children was also something I relished every year. Their favorites were A Velveteen Rabbit ; by Marjorie Williams; which is the story of how a stuffed animal becomes real because of the gift of love and The Polar Express by Chris Van Allsburg which is the story of how a trip to the North Pole strengthens a young boy's belief in the reality of Santa Claus.

However, of all Christmas books (besides those of Matthew and Luke) my most favorite Christmas book, the one I re-read every year is by Max Lucado, a Christian author. It was originally titled, Cosmic Christmas in 1997, but later renamed An Angel's Story in 2002.

It begins in heaven and presents a picture of the war Lucifer wages against the eternal, steadfast and all encompassing love of the Father.

Lucado focuses on the angels and their part in the war. It pits God's army of angels, including Gabriel, Michael and some new ones named Paragon, Aegus and Sophio against Lucifer and his followers who try to thwart God's plan for a savior. Yes, Lucado admits that part is fictionalized, but for me it presents a strong picture of the battlefront where we all live, especially at Christmastime when everything and everybody wants to draw us away from the simple joys of the season.

So, if you're looking for an escape from the today's Christmas "battles" against goodies, gadgets and gobs of glee, pick up a copy of Lucado's story. It's a quick read and I can assure you that the warfare will subside and you will delight in the season's simplicity of God's greatest gift: His Son!

"For the joy of the Lord is your strength." Nehemiah 8:10

What are your favorite Christmas books?

A New Visit from an Old Angel

As I watch the eyes of children bubble with delight at all the signs of Christmas, I'm flooded with my own childhood memories. The time I caught sight of my father in the gangway (only people who grew up in Chicago know what a gangway is), carrying a child's kitchen stove and refrigerator, made not of plastic, or tin, but corrugated cardboard. Yippee, I was getting my Christmas wish. Another Christmas memory involved a beloved book that had a green tissue paper Christmas tree in the inside cover. I loved opening that book and hearing the crinkle of the green tissue paper opening up the wonder of Christmastime stories. However, surpassing all other memories were the warm emotions endowed by the Angel that topped our Christmas tree each year.

Simplistic, yet ethereal, she was the embodiment of the Christmas season for me. She wore a blue dress and was kneeling on top of a glittering snow covered globe. There was a silver paper crown on her head, resembling the sun's corona, and silver paper wings that were stapled to her back. Her hands were clasped in prayer as she bowed in a humble, yet profound way to signal the birth of the Creator. Her presence on top of the tree seemed to assure that nothing would interfere with the celebration of Christmas. She was the protector of the holiday and nothing would move her. Christmas and all it's wonder and peace were unmovable under her watch. I don't remember what happened to her. Perhaps her wings became detached or she tumbled to the floor, breaking; or even maybe she was discarded for a more modern version. I don't remember. But recently she came back to me!

Of all places to find a memory of Christmas past was Target. Yet, there she was, my childhood Angel, with a few alterations. She is still kneeling in prayer on a white, frosted globe; though, now dressed in pale pink with a large crown of silver weave. Her silver paper wings have been replaced with wings of white feathers touched with iridescent glitter. Her demeanor is like my childhood angel, with an important difference. My childhood Angel was an adult; strong, steady, powerful, ready to take on anyone or anything that would interfere with Christmas. My Target Angel instead resembles a child. She is someone who is disengaged from daily battles and is pausing to pray. I believe that is the lesson for me today.

God sends us different angels at different times in our lives. He sends adult angels when we're children and need protection, and childlike angels when we're adults and need to be reminded that we should become more childlike, especially at Christmas. We, too, have to disengaged ourselves from the daily battles of work, traffic, and television news. If Christmas is to remain the turning point of human existence, really the turning point of our existence; we need to approach it like a child in prayer, humbly entreating the intercession of a Savior, like my pink, Target Angel.

Then he said to them, "I can guarantee this truth: Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." Matthew 18:3

THE CRUNCH OF TIME

Brown and green,

the wind of autumn

rustles the leaves

and they float and fall

to earth

Joining others;

carpeting the ground,

awaiting footsteps

that crunch and carve

my current paths.

These final autumn days

signal another year

mingling with memories

of different trees

whose leaves fell soft and golden

beneath my feet.

Memories of children

throwing golden coins in the air,

carefree and laughing.

Who would think that those smelly ginkgo leaves

would spark such glittering treasures

in the midst of the crunch of time?

Country Mouse or City Mouse? Part II: Colorado: Resplendent, Rugged & Remote

"The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge." Psalm 19

Since this is the case, for sure, in the skies and the mountains of Colorado, I was able to take a graduate course in God knowledge this summer. We visited friends who have recently built a fabulous mountain home nestled among the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. Forests of rising Ponderosa pines, red topped mountains, buttes jetting into the sky, geological dikes forming natural walls, yellow and purple wildflowers all surrounded me in this glorious natural setting. At night the skies were even more amazing with twinkling stars and planets that felt so close I could touch them. The quiet, yet majestic beauty of La Veta, Colorado, is one that cannot be duplicated anywhere I have traveled. The climate too is amazing, no humidity and no bugs. This means that it can be 90 degrees and very bearable, especially in the shade of a massive Douglas Fir tree. With God's creative genius surrounding me, the question still remains: Would I be able to give up city life and all its conveniences for life in the Rockies, meeting the creator daily face to face?

Amidst these wonders, life is different for the mountain folk. Though my Colorado friends grew up in Chicago city life, they have readily adapted to the mountain life. They have been living in Colorado for the past twenty years. My husband and I often refer to them as Mr. and Mrs. Outdoorsy because they do it all: horse back ride, ski, mountain bike, kayak, hike, build, landscape and paint (not just walls, but large still life oil paintings). They are very talented and take to mountain life like suburban dwellers take to the shopping malls.

However, there is a caveat here: for all this beauty one must sacrifice convenience. It takes approximately 30 minutes to travel from the nearest town, LaVeta, up a winding gravel road to get to their mountain home. LaVeta, itself, is only about two city blocks long. Main Street has a small, mom and pop grocery store, a couple of art galleries, a bakery, quilting shop, several inns and guest houses, several RV parks, a coffee shop, massage therapy office, used book store, Methodist, Baptist, Episcopal and Catholic churches, the Francisco Fort Museum, several real estate offices and an Excursion Train that runs between LaVeta and Alamosa, taking passengers along the San Isabel National Forest. It also has a post office and bank. That's about it. Places for lunch or dinner are limited to the bakery on Thursdays and the inn everyday. Oh, there's also a pizza place, but it isn't open daily. The one time we decided for pizza, we had to go to the neighboring town of Cuchara. Wal-mart is the next town over and so is the closet hospital, which is located in Walsenburg. Garbage removal is inconvenient to say the least. First, they have to separate garbage into throw-away stuff, recycling glass and cans (no plastic) and compost, which they have to bury. They have to carry down their garbage and recycling themselves and deposit it in town. Burying compost can be tricky when bears are on the property and find no problem digging for their dinner. My friend also tells a story of leaving a bowl of fruit on her counter overnight with a two inch open window. A neighborhood bear was hungry and broke through the screen, lifted the window and helped himself to the fruit. Dealing with wild animals also comes with mountain living. The downstairs windows at their home are now always closed.

Most of the people in the town are older and retired or hippies who never left. Apparently, this area was once the home to nine or ten hippie communes in the sixties. The long braided hair on several male residents was grey as opposed to golden. These mountain folk are friendly and always smiling and willing to engage in conversation or help when needed. We had a flat tire on a mountain road, with no cell phone signals, and were helped by a traveling older couple and a young rancher. But, many others were willing to stop and help.

Mountain winters are rough. My friends told us about someone from town skidding off La Veta Pass in the winter and climbing out of his snow-trapped car with two broken ankles and finally after two days getting rescued. It sounds like when it snows everyone stays put. In fact my friends will be purchasing some snowshoes for the upcoming winter.

Now as far as becoming a Colorado mountain mouse, I think I would love it for the summer, but for the winter I think I'd rather join the snowbirds down in Florida or Arizona.

If your interested in visiting LaVeta, Colorado here is a link:

http://www.lavetacucharachamber.com/

Country Mouse or City Mouse? Part I: Minnesota

Road rage! We've all either heard about it or witnessed it ourselves. I have not necessarily felt rage, but instead a sinking ship kind of feeling when I realize I am stuck in a traffic jam that affords no easy exit. In the city besides lines of traffic there are also lines at the grocery store, post office or gas station. Some days it even feels like I go from one line to another. What a waste of time! Living close to a large metro city like Chicago has many benefits like easy access to sporting and cultural events. Also, the culinary choices range from some of the best pizza in the world (yeah Chicago!) to fine dining even in the 'burbs (ah, LaGrange ). But lately the city and suburbs just feel too crowded for me. Perhaps I would fare better if I changed my status from being a city mouse to a country mouse.

This summer I had a chance to do just that. First, I traveled to the woods of central Minnesota to visit a dear friend and prayer partner. She lives just outside a small town called Long Prairie. It has about 3,000 residents and is located in the central part of the state, about two hours west of the twin cities. It is a place of wide open spaces filled with various kinds of farms: corn, potato, dairy and even tree farms. My friend has one close neighbor, who lives about a city block away, across their shared pond. My friends' have a relatively small homestead of about seven acres covered with trees, including graceful white birch trees. They are very involved in the community of Long Prairie because my friend's husband is the pastor of a local Lutheran Church. My friend spends most of her day driving to various hospitals and clinics in her position as a social worker for dialysis patients and their families. She drives a big Lincoln town car, which is perfect for those open Minnesota roads and thanks to her large car and the grace of God, she is alive today after hitting a large buck while going 65 mph.

My Minnesota friend is a gifted gardener. She can literally plant anything and it will grow. The property around her house is landscaped with a winding brick path interspersed with various gardens, a rose garden, a daisy garden, and many, many other flowers whose names I do not know. I am a terrible gardener, inside or outside. Nothing that I plant seems to last very long, so I am so in awe of my friend. Besides numerous flower gardens my friend has a wonderful vegetable garden and her very own strawberry patch and apple orchard. She regularly puts up tomatoes, peaches and the most delicious apple pie filling in a jar that I've ever tasted.

Since winters are very harsh in Minnesota; it gets to 30 below some days; one always has to have a ready food supply. And speaking of food, most of the food I ate during my stay was homegrown or farm raised. I feasted on new, and I mean really new potatoes, farm eggs, along with garden fresh strawberries and lettuce. I also discovered a succulent meat that I had never tasted before: venison.Venison is a quite low-fat and comes in a variety of forms; steaks, burgers, sausage and my personal favorite, jerky sticks. My friend explained that the venison is so good because it is corn fed as opposed to grass fed. I'll have to remember that when shopping or hunting for venison. Anyway, I must say I really enjoyed getting back to the basics of planting, harvesting and of course eating the country way. While visiting we had a small bonfire and roasted marshmallows under a magnificent night sky, while listening for the call of wild turkeys.

I also had an opportunity to participate in the Sunday Worship Service at American Lutheran Church. The church was filled with people of all ages. The paster usually calls the children up before the start of the service and does a little lesson with them. This time he used an orange life preserver to show the children what Jesus does for all of us. He saves our lives when we can't swim or the waves of our circumstances are too strong for us to keep our heads above the water. It was a good image of Jesus that I hope to use one day with my own grandchildren. After the time with the children, the service began with familiar hymns and everyone was singing and attentive, There was also an infant baptism at the service. After the service everyone joined in a large, bright community room for coffee, juice and muffins. I felt very welcomed and enjoyed listening to conversations about farms and family. People lingered and I had a real sense that this meeting time after church was important for everyone.

So I ended my country stay with warm and cozy feelings. However, I did have to ask myself if I could really hunker down and relish those same feelings on one of those 3o below zero winter nights? I don't know.

Another country note: Though they were dog-less in Chicago, my Minnesota friends now have acquired a huge Great Pyrenees, named Tanner that roams their property looking for chipmunks and other creatures to chase. Country mice definitely need serious dogs.

On the way back to the airport we passed a huge billboard with a picture of Ronald Regean in a cowboy had with the quote: "Remember when there was hope for real change?"

God Bless the Farmers of Kansas

Billboards! Don't you just hate them. They are an ever expanding growth of commercialism that are impossible to avoid if driving. They are usually advertising local casinos, adult (inappropriate) entertainment, or fast food. They are certainly not signs of the best of the highways of America.

EXCEPT for the road signs put up by the farmers in the state of Kansas, they give hope!

On a recent trip west I had the pleasure of driving along I-70 across the entire state of Kansas.

My husband and I have shared an affinity for the state since our daughter attended college at the University of Kansas, in Lawrence. With Salina as more that halfway through the state (going west), the farmland that comes after Salina is vast and open. There are 46 million acres of farmland in Kansas and approximately 65,000 farms. The majority of the crops are corn, wheat and sorghum (used for grain and syrup). Amid the acres and acres of farmland there were some small, privately placed billboards. They had these messages: "Thanks Mom for choosing Life, Abortion Stops a Beating Heart, Jesus Heals, Pornography Destroys, Jesus, I Trust in Thee (with the Divine Mercy picture of Jesus. Devotion to the Divine Mercy of Jesus was started by a Polish saint named Sister Maria Faustina in the 13th century.), and my all time favorite:

NO GOD KNOW GOD

NO PEACE KNOW PEACE

So at this time I would like to thank and bless the farmers of Kansas for their boldness in promoting faith, family and peace.

Animal Encounters on the Steps of Heaven

The steps of heaven are all around us if we just take the time to look around and about; the lush green after a summer rainfall, or the reds and purples of a summer sunset are just a couple of those steps that can lead us to the magnificence of our Creator. The steps of heaven are no more apparent than in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains in Southeastern Colorado. Recently, my husband and I visited friends who have built a home near the town of LaVeta, which renders a spectacular view of these mountains. Sangre de Cristo means "blood of Christ," which I thought comes from the color these mountains take on with the setting sun. However, after some research, I discovered that in 1719 the Spanish explorer, Antonio Valverde y Cosio, was more impressed by the reddish hue at sunrise; and it's called alpenglow.

Besides a view of the Spanish Peaks (part of the Sangre de Cristo range) their home also affords another spectacular view of a butte arising from pine and scrub oak bushes with a series of random stone fences jutting out from the landscape. According to our friends these stone fences are a natural phenomenon that is are often visited by various geologists looking for an explanation for their occurrence. I will give my own explanation as the Creator working with His Lincoln logs to cause a more interesting variance in the landscape, or even a type of wind barrier to protect the early dwellers of this area. Our Father is a Provider and Protector as well as a Creator.

Amid all this beauty I also found creatures that caused me to smile at their antics: roaming horses, grazing cows, howling coyotes, buzzing hummingbirds, and one vigilant dog. His name is Leo and he so reminded me of the dog on the original Disney series, Corky and White Shadow.Corky was a pig-tailed, twelve year old girl who lived with her widowed father, the town sheriff. She and White Shadow would have adventure after adventure helping to capture bank robbers or horse rustlers, while learning life lessons. Didn't every pre-pubescent girl want a dog like White Shadow? One who would protect her from dangers like mountain lions, rattlesnakes, bears and the ever present "bad guys." It may have taken me about 50 years, but I finally found my White Shadow in Leo.

Before we arrived for our visit, our friends had several encounters with the local bear community. The bears were attracted to the compost that my friend had buried behind their house and also the bowl of fruit left on the kitchen counter next to an open window. The bears pulled the screen back and lifted the window up so they could help themselves to the fruit. When I heard about this, being the sissy city woman that I am, I worried about taking walks on their property. What would I do if I ran into a bear? Faint, scream or run? Either one of these seemed rather fruitless when encountering a large, wild animal(s). Enter Leo.

Leo is a neighbor's dog that is left outside during the day to freely roam the property. He visits our friends daily, looking for companionship from our friends' elderly dog, "Cinder." He loves attention, treats, and a quick rub behind the ears. As he visits, he patrols, looking and listening for something to chase. Isn't that what all dogs are ultimately about, the chase? With Leo around, all thoughts of encounters with dangerous animals dissipated. If there was a rustle in the brush, Leo sought it out and made it go away. He always returned wagging his tail and waiting for the treat that I so willingly provided. With Leo ever present I got to enjoy the mountain views with the knowledge that He had sent someone to watch my back. Thanks, Lord, you are truly a God of detail.

Here's a link if you want a background check of Corky and White Shadow

http://www.originalmmc.com/corky.html

The Voices of Children

The voices of children are among the sweetest sounds on the earth. I truly believe that in moments of stress, doubt or worry all we have to do is close our eyes and seek out the voices of children. We will immediately be taken back to our own childhood, where times and tasks were simple and we were not yet tarnished by "...the worries of this life, the deceitfulness of wealth, and the desire for things..." (Mark 4:19).

Since I haven't yet been blessed with grandchildren and I teach teen-agers (you DON'T want to listen to their conversations); I only get this chance during the summer, up at our cottage on the lake. We have a screened in porch with a very comfortable futon that is perfect for napping. Our cottage sits just a bit away from a sand box, basketball hoop and make-shift baseball diamond and the lake. This area is affectionately known as "the Point," because it serves as a gathering place for all the cottage celebrations, like the 4th of July or kids' birthday parties, food tasting, bonfires, and games like Bag Toss, Kick the Can, Capture the Flag or Flashlight Tag. Because of the fact that sound carries over water, I can usually hear the voices of the children screaming in excitement over who is captured or found. Their cheering voices are not rough like the cheers at an adult sporting event, but rather the pleasant fizz that comes from a popped can of cola. Their squeals of delight over a team win can indeed lift anyone's spirits! Listening to their conversations also brings a chuckle when you hear things like, "We were boys yesterday, but men, today," coming from a triumvirate of 10-year old boys. Now, I didn't know or care to ask what was the reason for this comment, but I did pass it one to one of the boys' fathers.

So my advice is if you don't have a chance to be immediately around children, take a walk to the park with a boring book and just sit there and listen.

"Except ye be converted, and BECOME AS LITTLE CHILDREN, ye shall not enter into the Kingdom of Heaven" (Matthew 18:3 ).

SUMMERTIME- I'm jamming again!

Ah, it's summertime. A wonderful time, especially for teachers, when we can lay textbooks and papers aside. No schedules, no deadlines, no grades. Time for personal pursuits. Time to do all things leisurely. More time to blog. Time to ponder the wonders of creation, from the buzz of hummingbird wings to the sound of leaves rustling in the wind, to the purple and pink of sunsets. Time to dig into those drawers and closets that have collected my overflow of stuff: including worn out socks, old shoes, and lots of notes written to myself to remind me of my to-dos. More time for prayer and seeking the Lord and asking lots of questions. I guess in the summer I lay down my teacher role and become a student. Scripture becomes a chest full of treasures, that beg examination and awe. What will I find tomorrow? The Holy Spirit is a great summer tour guide. It's always fun to find out more about that mysterious place called, "the kingdom of God."

I also started doing something that I haven't done in decades, make homemade jam. Yumm!

We regularly spend our summer vacation time at a cottage on a small lake in Michigan. In fact, this will be our 26th summer up at the cottage, named, "Catherine M." after the owner of the resort. (More about the cottage in upcoming blogs.) This particular area of Michigan is filled with fruit and vegetable farms. Strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, peaches, apricots, and apples are among the most plentiful. When my children were young and I was staying at the cottage for the entire summer, I used to can a variety of fruit jams. In fact, I purchased not one, but two canners. One affectionately known as a "baby canner," for small jam jars and the regular size canner for large quart jars (applesauce, salsa, tomatoes, etc.) I would then store the jams until Christmas time and give them as presents to family and friends. Honestly, homemade fruit jam on a Ritz cracker is a scrumptious snack or dessert. My kids loved it. So did many of their teachers. Canning and jamming, however, went the way of many other crafty pursuits when my attention turned back to teaching, furthering my education, and caring for my elderly parents. "Why make jam when you can buy it?" thought I. I left all my canning supplies on a back shelf at the cottage, not be be pulled out until this year. This week I put up my first batch of strawberry jam. Even today I found some small baskets that are perfectly sized for the jars for Christmas giving. I guess I need a break from the intellectual arena that I dwell in for most of the year and get back to doing something that is simple and immediately gratifying. No fat in jam, just the bounty of flavors that come from the earth by way of the hard work of farmers, pickers and the master grower are there to enjoy anew.

For anyone interested in jamming. Here is a good link with pictures and easy to follow directions.

http://www.pickyourown.org/jam.htm

STENT CLUB MEMBERS, WOMEN OVER 60 & OTHERS:HEART TALK

An egg white omelet with part-skim mozzarella cheese, asparagus, tomatoes and a special every day seasoning from Trader Joe's. This was my heart healthy breakfast today and those egg whites were surprisingly good and satisfying; which is sometimes hard to achieve on a heart healthy diet, but the alternative is fat which clogs the arteries and you die.

I have been given a new perspective on life after my heart surgery a little over a month ago. I was traveling along in life after just turning sixty with not a care in the world. I have a wonderful family, great friends an interesting job and even a beautiful view of the woods out my back windows. But lurking inside was an enemy that was mounting a serious attack. While I was walking away on a treadmill at LifeTime Fitness, at level 5, I suddenly felt something in my chest. I got a little short of breath. It felt like I swallowed something. I immediately slowed my pace, but continued my workout. Right before coming to LifeTime, my husband and I had walked our dog outside and it was cold and windy, so I just associated it with swallowing some cold air. I didn't think any more about it until I received an e-mail at work, describing a heart attack from a woman's point of view. In the e-mail the woman compared the sensation to "swallowing a golf ball." Now, I didn't think it felt exactly like that, but there were some similarities. However, I pushed "heart attack" thoughts aside. I mean, my husband, who does have heart problems along with a bout with kidney cancer, always tells me I'm going to live forever. My parents were in their 80's when they died, and neither one had any major medical problems before 75.

The following week I was chaperoning a field trip after school for our Newcomer's Club that gives new students an opportunity to socialize in a safe environment. We were taking the students to Woodfield Mall for some spring shopping. I was running late and while quickly walking, I experienced the "golf ball" feeling a second time. The thought crossed my mind that maybe I shouldn't go on this trip, but since our school nurse was coming, I thought, "If anything happens, she can take care of me."

The next day was Parent Conferences and I didn't have to go to school until noon, so I called my husband's cardiologist and they scheduled me for an appointment the following day. The nurse asked if my feeling was like "a lump?" "That's it," I replied. The following day, March 5, I went to see the doctor. I brought my latest blood report which showed all my counts for HDL, LDL and over all cholesterol all in range. They decided to give me two tests, a calcification test (which is like an MRI in the big machine). It is looking for any blockages or calcium deposits in the heart. I passed this test with flying colors. I scored a zero. The second test was a stress test and I flunked. The doctor then told me to call my husband and get over to the hospital for an angioplasty. He also said that perhaps this was a just a false positive.
I've been through the angioplasty drill before with my husband, and I knew that there is a degree of risk involved with this test. Also, you have to sign a release that if necessary they can do open heart surgery. I was concerned, but not anxious. I felt very relaxed going into the test and asked for prayer from my husband and daughter.
During the test, I was awake and heard the two doctors talking about size, something like, "Is it 3.5 or 4?" I said oh-oh, something must be going on. The surgery took all of about 30 minutes. And then the shocker, I had a 95% blockage in my left main artery of the heart, commonly referred to as the "widow maker," but in my case it would have been "widower maker." I am now a member of the STENT CLUB, because the doctors put in a medicated stent or tiny pipe that allows the blood to flow through the artery. They also put me on Plavix, which is a blood thinner, and a 80mg. dose of Vytorin, which is a cholesterol lowing medication. I also have to be on a strict low-fat diet and continue exercising. My husband and I have been going to LifeTime about three times a week since the fall, so that has to increase. Drugs, diet and exercise are now my mantras.

WOW, I couldn't believe it. How could this happen? I wasn't angry, but confused. Now, even though my parents didn't experience any serious health issues until their seventies; my mom's brothers and sisters died primarily of heart attacks in their sixties. But I had always thought I was my father's child, since I look more like him than my mom. I guess my insides are my mom's and with that comes the heart problems. Even my younger cousin, who is only 53, had the same thing happen to him last November. This heredity thing can really sneak up on you, just like age does.

It has taken me about a month to mentally process what all this means. I have had more thoughts about death after this, but not in a maudlin or depressing way. Just the thoughts that one day I will die and it will probably be heart related. Does this event make me want to quit my job and go sky diving, NO. (I'm still somewhat afraid of heights.) However, it does give me pause to spend more time in prayer listening, rather than talking.In addition it makes me want to tell other women over 60, not to ignore any feelings in the chest, no matter how busy they are.

For the past few months I had been having a lot of dreams about my dead family members,even at some of the old houses they lived in. Often I'd wake up and think, "Do they need prayers?" or "Are they calling me, am I going to die soon?" As I reflect on it now, perhaps they were warning me about this impending situation with my heart and telling me to take care of it.

Also, before this happened I would also say that I trusted the Lord with everything. Now, that trust in God and His plan for my life is going deeper into my soul. My life is truly in God's hands and I believe that now more than ever before. He has tasks for me to do and I won't go home to Him until those tasks are done and when I'm ready to see him in person. Trust and Faith are really two sides of the same coin. I trust that God is a loving God and I have Faith that His actions and decisions are rooted and grounded in love, just the way I should be. Do I ever get frightened? Of course, in the middle of the night when I feel a slight flash of pain or I twist or turn the wrong way. However, knowing that I am in His loving hands I return to my dreams.

I would like to recommend a book that I have been praying/reading after my surgery.
It's 31 DAYS OF HEALING by Mark Brazee. It's one of those little books that you can stuff in your purse or pocket. It is filled with encouragement for anyone who is going through an illness. Why 31 days? I don't know, but maybe it takes that long to mentally process a new health condition or illness.

I was also encouraged by two verses in my daily devotional following my surgery:
"I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order to know the hope to which God has called you." Ephesians 1:18 (NIV)

"Thus says the Lord: Your hurt is incurable; your wound is grievous. For I will restore health to you and your wounds I will heal." Jeremiah 30:12,17

Some pretty awesome encouraging, hope-filled, heart-lifting verses!

The Divine Physician is Himself the best medicine anyone could hope for!

For Christ's Love Compels Us...to be Messengers of that Love

Being a messenger of God's love to another person is an awesome honor. By this I mean not just the daily living out of the Gospel message to "love one another," but the special time when God COMPELS you to reach out to someone in a special way that only He can orchestrate. Usually this occurs at a time and place that is inconvenient for you, or it is directed at a person that you really don't like. A few days ago I felt compelled to send God's love in a most unique way to our department secretary. The day before she had been experiencing some chest pains at work and someone immediately drove her to the hospital. She was OK, but had to follow up with some tests. She was experiencing a lot of anxiety both on the job and in her home life. Her burdens were many to say the least. The day following her trip to the hospital I was coming home late in the evening after enjoying dinner and conversation with a friend, when I heard a song on the radio (K-LOVE/94.3 FM)and I felt that God was telling me that I had to get this song to my secretary as a Valentine's Day present from Him. I did a turn around and drove to my local Family Bookstore and asked about the song, I wasn't even sure of the title, but they did announce the artist as J.J. Heller. So I asked for a CD by her, and sure enough, they had one copy left and the cover of the CD showed two hands coming together to make a red heart. Perfect for Valentine's Day, for sure. Our God is a God of every single detail, and then some. I was so elated that God would have me bring his message of love to my hurting secretary. I carefully wrapped the CD and wrote a short note expressing God's love and care. I don't know the results, but I know that with God's love present, healing and hope are alive. I thank the Lord for allowing me to be his messenger for this Valentine's Day. Now I would like to share with you that very special song by J.J. Heller, "Your Hands."
HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!