A Season of Remembering

Could we ever have imagined the realities of the past couple of months? Like it or not, we've learned a whole new vocabulary. We've limited our travels, our work, and our shopping. We've also reached out to others in new ways, using our compassionate and creative energy to cross the barriers to lend support and help.  

For me, it's been a season of recovery . . . and remembering. Last time (April 5th), I wrote about the 17th anniversary of our family's car crash. In addition, as I sat in my recliner with ice on my new hip, I read through some of my late husband's journals. Some pages brought tears to my eyes. Others made me laugh, but every paragraph reminded me of the grace of God in spite of our humanness.

This is also the month to remember my mom (May 1936-August 2013), my parents'  wedding anniversary (63 years today), and the five-year anniversary of Barry's passing (5-15-2015). Made me wonder what I've been doing the past five years! Writing a couple of books, seeing Elisabeth through college, keeping up with my grandsons and their five-star moms (and dads), simplifying, maintaining my home, nurturing relationships . . . and learning, learning, learning all the way. I'm so grateful for God's tried-and-true promises.

I completed a project this past week that brought back multiple memories. I made Elisabeth a quilt (i.e. picnic blanket) from a stack of her saved T-shirts. I cut the shirts apart and squared up each block, then ironed fusible interfacing onto the backs and squared them up once more. The stack of squares and rectangles boasted logos and slogans from elementary school, high school, college, places of employment, our church, a 5K run, and her favorite vacation spot. What stories they told!  

As I stitched, I remembered praying her through many of those chapters, usually coupled with motherly concern and a sense of pride as I cheered her on. The process reminded me of the promise in Philippians 1:6 . . . the promise that we can be confident that He who began a good work will continue . . . developing and perfecting and bringing it to full completion (AMPC). 

I'm learning that when we remember God's intimate involvement in our lives, we can better place our faith in Him when we peer into the fog of an uncertain future . . .  humanly speaking, a future with no guarantees. We can make decisions based on what is and Who is rather than on the fear of the what-ifs. 

I invite you to brew a cup a tea, and take some time to remember. How has God blessed you? In what ways has He given you grace in the past? What promises from His Word will you claim? Let's make this season of remembering a time to also ask God to give us the courage to move forward into the "new normal" of tomorrow.

"Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits."

Psalm 102:2

A New Thing - Part 2

Up and down, up and down the stairs again and again with boxes of ceiling tiles, cans of paint, tools, a shop vac, more tools, long strips of molding, and more.

The man who remodeled my upstairs bedroom got his exercise . . . 

I, on the other hand, held the front door open.

It took less than thirty hours for my helper to work his magic. Every day he decreased the old and increased the new. From the tidy ceiling to the freshly painted woodwork to the crisp updated look of the walls to the transformed radiator cover to the curtain rods, he changed my early 1990s bedroom into a modern inviting retreat. I took photos every evening to send to my daughters.

After the contractor left, I just sat on the bed for a while, enjoying my new nighttime surroundings and thanking God for providing another of His good gifts. I couldn't help but think of the verse in Ecclesiastes 3:11: "He has made everything beautiful in its time." Well, as "beautiful" as possible for a 1940s house with few, if any, square corners!

As I've been slowly moving my belongings back into closets and drawers, it's dawning on me that 25 years ago my husband and I felt the same satisfaction after doing this room over the first time. Back then the shabby wallpaper was bright, the chipped woodwork uniform, the carpet new, and the faded quilt vivid with color. We never thought all of our hard work would someday look dated and dingy. 

But new has a habit of aging . . . whether it's a room, a home, a car . . . a life.

Kinda puts it all in perspective, doesn't it? We try to maintain what God has given us, and at the same time, how essential to evaluate how we're investing our time and talents. "For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal" (2 Corinthians 4:18).

I still need to put some finishing touches on my room . . . shampoo the carpet, hang a few pictures, organize the closets. I plan to enjoy the newness and also use my remodel job as a reminder of Jesus' words: "Let not your hearts be troubled. . . . In my Father's house are many rooms. . . . I go to prepare a place for you (John 14:1, 2).

Someday, we will enjoy our new heavenly home, grander than any earthbound remodeling job could ever be!

"Behold, I am making all things new" (Revelation 21:5).

Top photo by Julie Manwarren

 

A New Thing - Part 1

"Just let me know if you want to pull the trigger."

He descended the stairs from my second story bedroom, legal pad and a tape measure in hand. I didn't need much convincing. I'd been planning and saving up for months. 

"I'm ready to begin any time," I answered. "Thanks for your good ideas. I never thought of these options."

I always liked our spacious room. We had wallpapered over dark paneling in the late '80s or early '90s, and I pieced and hand-quilted the quilt, creating a cozy B & B look.  

But after Barry passed away and I began to feel the full responsibility of caring for our home, I was advised to let the wallpaper go. It might be a deal-breaker when it came time to sell (NOT anytime soon!) . . . and I may as well enjoy the updated look in the meantime.

So how does one go about making wallpaper disappear? Steam if off the walls? Wallboard over the top? Gut the room? And what about the textured ceiling paint that was slowly giving way to gravity? I pondered the options, asked advice, and . . .  still didn't have a satisfactory plan.

Do you ever feel like there's no good answer? And you really want to get the job done and go back to the important things in life?

I finally mustered up the courage to call a recommended contractor, who came in, looked around, and right off the bat presented a plan I hadn't considered. "We can put in a new ceiling like the ones you have downstairs and paint over the wallpaper. It's on there pretty tight." He laid out a few more details, and I began to smile.

It look a while to empty out the room (although he is graciously working around the furniture). My sweet dad unscrewed all the hardware, and a few more-than-willing friends helped me remove the heavier items. 

As of today, the new ceiling is up . . . what a difference! And the old wallpaper? Well it's shabbier than I realized. It'll be painted over by the end of Monday. If the layers underneath could talk . . . wallpaper covering liner covering paneling covering the brightest 1970s orange you can imagine . . . All of this will be hiding beneath my new neutral light gray walls and white trim!

Like me, do you find yourself satisfied with the statue quo? Sometimes we don't realize how dingy our joy has become or how yellowed our outlook is . . . until we muster up the courage to try something new, to make a few changes, and to let God's Word give us a fresh perspective.

"Behold I am doing a new thing . . .

I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert."

Isaiah 43:19, ESV

Top photo by Julie Manwarren

Lessons From the Let-Down

I sank into my favorite chair and took a deep breath. 

Photo by Julie Manwarren

What a week it had been! My sister flew in from Indiana. Two of my daughters and their little sons came in for the weekend. My book signing turned out to be a wonderful time of greeting friends from the community and area churches, some closely associated with my late husband, Barry. They came and they stayed, coffee in hand, seizing the opportunity to catch up with old friends and meet new ones. Afterward, the family gathered around my dining room table to sip soup and recount God's blessings as many took our story home with them that day. 

Photo by Julie Manwarren

On Monday evening, my sister, and I enjoyed our dad's famous chili, and together, watched old slides, once again hearing his navy stories and enjoying poses of us as little girls with very young parents. The next couple days we shared meals, raked up leaves (Dad's and mine), and enjoyed just being together until Wednesday evening, when Barb boarded a plane heading west and I led a Bible study on Chapters 11-14 of my book. 

On Thursday, I fulfilled my time in the dentist chair, ran to the Ronald McDonald House to present them with a check (proceeds from the book signing) and a copy of Penned Without Ink for their library . . .  then finally found my chair.

Whew!

But I don't do let-downs well. 

By Sunday evening, my eyes were "gunky" (as my mother used to say), bloodshot, watery, swollen, and irritated with bags underneath. An uninvited case of conjunctivitis brought my go-go-go pace to a screeching halt. The side effects from the drops reduced me to sitting alone in my living room with the shades drawn, wearing sunglasses, and squinting to try to read blurry texts from my girls. 

Google Images

A let-down, indeed!

But in spite of all this, I wanted to listen . . . to listen to the still, small voice that often whispers truth at times like this. Here's what I hope to take away from this experience:

• An even greater appreciation for Barry, whose eye issues never left him after the car crash. Again I remembered 2 Corinthians 4:18: "The things that are visible are temporal (brief and fleeting), but the things that are invisible are deathless and everlasting" (AMPC).
• An increased sensitivity to those who suffer illness alone, who can't drive themselves to pick up what they need, who don't have someone present to talk things through.
• An awareness that perhaps my life should include a little more down time. It's been a hectic eighteen months since Barry passed away. Maybe I need to make time to finish a quilt, read more, and have friends in more often.
• A renewed realization of the fragility of life. James 4:13-16 came to mind, especially verse 15: "If the Lord is willing, we shall live and do this or that." All it takes is pink eye or some other where-did-this-come-from ailment. Or rolling fog. Or any number of "unexpecteds," and we again realize God's sovereign control and our human frailty.
• A sense of comfort, knowing that God regards me with compassion, and nothing - not even my contagious eyes - could separate me from His love and grace (Romans 8:38, 39).

The meds are doing their jobs well. I am much better and oh-so-grateful to be on the other end of this week. 

So, when you're on the downside of a let-down, remember to listen for the whispers from the God who cares about all that happens to us.

 

Friends: Picking Up Where We Left Off

A friend stopped by this past week, one I hadn't seen in years. We had a wonderful time together. I had kept up with her through her family's prayer letter and her blog. She served as my husband's secretary for a while and later became our daughter's first grade teacher. Twenty-some years, a husband, and four kids later she finds herself a missionary--and a breast cancer survivor.


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We reminisced about how her then-fiancé proposed to her in my husband's office suite, about the time her spelling lesson ended when our daughter somehow got her head stuck in a chair, and about how I taught her to quilt while her firstborn baby slept. She brought a couple of quilts with her to show me her latest projects.

But we did more than catch up. Our life stories differed, but we shared many of the same emotions, the same questions, the same favorite Scripture promises.

The same faith.

We picked up where we left off--with easy conversation, straight from our hearts.  


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I like having a friend like that, don't you? There's something special about a relationship that keeps going no matter how long since the last good-bye. How many times had I prayed for my friend during her illness and when her family had special needs? There will always be special connection. 

God has blessed me with other friends like that. I smile when I see their names on the caller-ID, the email, or FB. It's fun to hear their voices when I surprise them with a call. It's always wonderful to pick up where we left off.

Perhaps I need to take a little more time to stop by, pick up the phone, or send that email.

Thanks, Anne, for a wonderful visit. Let's stay in touch! 

Crazy Quilt

Gathered from an old trunk

Negligent in design

Few quilting stitches, tiny and even

 No fibers of cotton

No log cabins or geese flying

No stars pieced

Contrary angles

Puzzle pieces mixed up

No story told

A kaleidoscope of color

Silk, wool, velvet

Threads of gold

 A timeless treasure

Sarah Lynn Phillips

Victorian Crazy Quilt, 1890