I Got Nothin'

I wish I had more for you today, but this is it.
Just these bison that I saw dozing by the highway when we were in Denver.
Right now, I feel just like them. Big, furry, clumsy and drowsy.
Yesterday, I rode in the local Trail Trek, a bike ride to raise money for the bike trail system here in Lincoln. I rode a total of twenty miles and don't even have any pictures to show you.
The day was perfect for a bike ride, with more than 750 participants on the trails.
After the ride I went and sat by the pool and burned myself to a crisp (wear sunscreen, people!).
Then, home for dinner, and I found myself in bed at 8:30, asleep by 8:35.
For the night.

Anything exciting going on where you live?

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Remix

Our son is visiting from LA for a few weeks, so I thought I'd repost this music video he directed. The song is 1937, performed by Chase McBride. It's a mellow and kind of funky start to the weekend. Enjoy your Saturday!

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June 25, 2009

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Granted

I thought I'd write a little something about H today.
This popped open inside my head yesterday morning as I lay in bed, room still dark, box fan humming and watched H do the first thing that he always does, each and every day.
And in my mind I heard the phrase, "Taken for granted."
The words rolled around in the morning fog of my thoughts - over and over, as I watched this man slide from the bed until his knees met the floor on "his side" of the bed. Starting his day with his head in his hands, bowed down in prayer, offering this new day back to its Creator.
And I knew I had taken for granted this miracle before me. This daily and yet rare treasure that has been granted me, of a man - my husband - humbling himself before God,
acknowledging his need for help along the way, his inability to supply or to even notice life or breath or hope without first stopping here on his knees.
The recognition that this new day is a gift, and this pause to say "Thank you" to the Giver.
The mist lifted from the haze in my mind as he rose to his feet and faced this new day, and turning my face to Heaven I whispered,
"Forgive me." And then, "Thank you."

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Oh My GOODNESS!

Imagine my surprise when I clicked over yesterday to PVE's creative haven and found this amazing gem of artwork! My house, as seen through PVE's wide and generous eyes! My heart leaped for joy! If you haven't met PVE yet, you must! She is an extraordinary artist, but so much more than that. Her heart fills up and overflows and she blesses others with her gifts of giving and sharing and encouraging. She sees the world through sweet and hopeful lenses, and passes her positivity on to others each day.
I am always in awe of her artwork, and bowled over by her generosity. I am so humbled and HAPPY that her gifts have spilled over into my world. So very blessed to have such a friend.
Patricia, if I haven't said it yet, THANK YOU! You have captured the heart of our home. Indeed it is wa-a-ay better than any photo and a treasure that will bless me daily.

Give, and you will receive. Your gift will return to you in full—pressed down, shaken together to make room for more, running over, and poured into your lap.
~Luke 6:38, NLT

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I Spy: Bloggy Creativity

One thing I've learned about the people in blogland is that you are one creative bunch!
Some of you can look at a broken down lamp on the side of the road and turn it into a treasure sitting proudly on a bedside table.
There are those of you who move into a house and have it feeling all cozy in less than a week.
Today I saw someone do something cool with a fork and a spoon.
And just the other day I spotted this fabulous ring, crafted from a vintage earring. The ring is being given away by Trish at Ketelcopia. I told Trish I'd tell you about this, so that you could stop by and visit her little patch of bloggy creativity. Perhaps you'll get lucky and win this sweet treasure yourself!

{Photo from Trish's blog: Ketelcopia}

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Father's Day Rocks!

I hope your day was grand!

{Photos taken by me of an afternoon of fun at Champion's Fun Center, courtesy of our daughter.}

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Rambling On and On (and On) About Carole King, Tags, and Family

I've been tagged by my friend Beth at Books, Etc.

[In my family room, Carole King is singing "It's too late baby, now it's too late."
Not in real life, although that would be grand. She's on PBS. And she's probably right.
It's past my bedtime and probably too late, baby, for me to try to do this project justice now.
I'll let you be the judge.]

I really enjoy Beth and I'm thrilled that she invited me to play.
She is smart, witty, insightful, and writes with truth and hope and honesty.
Her blog and her comments make me happy.

So here's what I'm supposed to do: go to my first photo folder and choose the tenth photo in that folder, post it here and tell you the story that goes along with the photo. Hopefully I'll be forgiven that this is not exactly the tenth photo, but there just wasn't a story to tell about a clump of red berries in my parents' backyard. Even though you'd think there would be a story about those berries, I promise you, there isn't.
I've already rambled for three paragraphs, and haven't said a thing about the photo
(apologies to Beth who may not have realized when she invited me to play that I'm not so good at following the rules).

Here goes:

This is a picture of Kyla, my niece who lives in Virginia - 1200 miles away from me - and who will turn two next month. Two! How did that happen?!?!
I think I've seen Kyla in person three times in her entire sweet little life.
(Here I pause to offer up a sincere and heartfelt prayer to God that I might one day -soon?- live close enough to drive to my family members in six hours or less. Can't hurt to ask, right?)
The fact that I've seen Kyla so few times is probably the reason she is sitting at the top of the stairs in this picture. I was visiting her one day last April, and this was taken on the morning after my late night arrival. Kyla had eaten breakfast, taken a bath, and taken care of all of the one-year-old essentials, and then she decided she should check me out. We started out on even ground. I sat on the wood floor just inside the open front door. She walked toward me hesitantly. In her mind, it was probably the first time she had ever laid eyes on me. With me sitting there cross-legged, and her standing in her bright white tennis shoes, we were eye-to-eye. She scrunched up her face a bit, and looked at me from under her eyebrows. Then she turned her back, and crawled to the top step where she surveyed me from above. I think that gave her the perspective she sought. I must have passed her test. Because she made her way back down as only a one-year-old can: slide feet out, let diapered butt drop to next step, repeat until you reach the bottom. She came to me and snuggled her sweet little self right between my chin and my shoulder (I had forgotten that spot wasn't made just for cell phones), and patted her little hands on my back.
And just like that, we were friends.

Ha! Now Carole is singing "You just call out my name, and you know wherever I am..." You know how the rest goes. It's true. If Kyla ever needs anything that I could give her, all she has to do is call.

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I Know This Much Is True About Marriage (after seven years of matrimonial chaos, followed by sixteen years of marital bliss – all with the same man)

This weekend, I'm doing one of the fun things I get to do as the wife of the Pastor. I'm hosting a wedding shower! This will be my first time and I've learned there are some traditions that must be followed, including offering a devotion - or meditation - for the bride. Here's what I've come up with:

Here you are, at the end of one life and the beginning of another. Stars in your eyes, love in your heart, and…well…hormones all excited. You dream of what will be. What you’ll look like on your wedding day, what he’ll look like on your wedding day. Will you cry? Will he cry? Will you be able to recite your vows without stumbling all over yourself? Will it be everything you’ve imagined?

A wise man I know (my husband) calls this place where you stand The Land of Love. It’s hard to imagine that you’ll ever have hard times, disagreements, tight finances, burned casseroles, misunderstandings, or fading romance. But after every wedding comes a marriage, and the two are not the same. Not at all. It takes work to make a marriage work.

Trust me, I don't always do it right, but here’s what I’ve learned over the years about working to make a marriage work:

1. Make this a marriage of three: you, your spouse and God. Keep God first in your marriage. It’s a no-brainer, but easy to forget. He cares about your communication, your passion, your finances, your future, your pantry, your roof and garage door, your children, your pets, your paint choices, your casseroles, your health, your heart, your soul, and your life. Pray together. Worship together. Grow together.
2. God was serious when He talked about “leaving” and “cleaving.” It sounds old-fashioned and nobody really says it anymore, but it makes sense. All it means is this: When you get married, you leave your parents’ house, or your life as an independent single person making it on your own, and cleave to your spouse. The way you used to do things doesn’t count anymore. It’s time to establish the way you’re going to do things as a couple. Take some of the stuff you’ve learned, some of the stuff he’s learned, and some of the stuff you’ve learned together along the way, and make things work for the two of you. It doesn’t really matter if your parents approve, or if your friends think you’re crazy. If it works for you, if it makes God look good, and if it’s legal, it works.
3. Encourage your spouse. Never speak negatively about your spouse to anyone outside of the marriage. If he leaves the toilet seat up and it gets on your nerves, talk to him, not your girlfriends.
4. Keep dating.
5. Sometimes you’ll be too tired NOT to let the sun go down on your anger. When you disagree (and you will), know that this disagreement probably won’t dissolve your marriage. Commit together to work through it. To talk it out. To hope and believe the best in one another. Remember that some things just won’t get settled in one afternoon or evening. Don’t hold a grudge. Remember that you two love each other. But if you’re tired, and the hour is late, go to sleep. Agree with one another that you will sit down again the next day and continue to work at this thing until it’s been figured out. And don’t forget, when the dust settles, to make up – that’s the fun part. Speaking of which…
6. Sex is God’s gift, and what a great gift it is! Forget about what you’ve read, what movies you’ve seen, what you’ve experienced – whether good or bad. God means for us to enjoy sex with our spouse, and I suggest you do just that. Let yourself go. Talk through the tough spots and communicate about what you appreciate. Sex is fun! Enjoy the good times. Be faithful to one another. Don’t allow anything to take the place of your relationship with your spouse. Love and be loved in return.
7. Keep the relationships in order:
• First is your relationship with God. You will spend eternity with Him, so it
will be good to be familiar with Him and Him with you.
• Second is your relationship with your spouse. When all of the children are grown and gone, your spouse will still be sitting across from you at the kitchen table. It will be a good thing if that person is your good friend who is madly in love with you, and not a stranger.
• Third is your relationship with your children. Be their parent, they’ll have enough friends. Raise them always with the knowledge that they are created to change the world, and will leave your house to do just that. Teach them about faith and love them unconditionally. Pray with them and pray for them. Teach them to give, and to graciously receive. Don’t be afraid to discipline them with love, and never react in anger. And when the time comes, release them freely to pass through the Land of Love and start a family of their own.
8. Counselors are our friends. No one has all of the tools they need to make a marriage work. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. Sometimes you’ll be able to get advice from a family member, a close friend, a Pastor, or another mature person you know. Sometimes those people will be too close to you to be able to offer sound counsel. That’s why God called some people to go to school and get their degree in counseling. In my opinion, it’s a sign of weakness to know you need help, and not ask for it. If you get stuck in your marriage, ask for help. And don’t be afraid or ashamed to go to a counselor.
9. Say you’re sorry. When you’re wrong, say you’re sorry. Do it first. Don’t wait. Don’t pout. Don’t hold a grudge. Just say it.
10. Don’t abuse. Be kind. Be gentle. Be patient. Don’t talk at your spouse. Don’t talk down to your spouse. Never inflict or accept violence – physical, verbal, or otherwise. Always show respect. And if you’re not safe, tell someone and get out.

So that’s it. It’s funny how it became a list of ten things. I guess it could be considered The Ten Commandments Of Marriage. I’m sure you’ll get more advice along the way. And you’ll add to this list as you go. That’s fine. But consider this a start. And a sincere prayer that your marriage will be a blessing to you both, that the world will be blessed because of your marriage, and that you will always be open to allowing the Spirit of God to mold and to shape and mend and to grow you both as you become one.

The shower's not 'til tomorrow afternoon.
Did I miss anything?
What would you add to the list?

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Digging Deep

"We need to get those plants in the ground."
He said it in passing, on his way out the door.
And the words passed through me,
caught up in the hurry and the bustle of the lists of
things that must get done - have to get done.
I passed from one expectation to the next while they sat in packs of six and four,
and the two that sat alone, just outside my kitchen window.
And as I passed the kitchen window, they caught my eye.
The sun is shining. They'll be fine.
It's rained so much these past few days. They'll be fine.
The words passed through my mind and settled in my heart, taking root.
Gently prodding.
Reminding me.
Awakening again the understanding that growth springs forth from deep roots.
Sun shines and bakes dry the tender sprout of green that doesn't yet have
the roots it needs to reach the living waters of the deep.
Rains shower, and the fragile shoot loses its weakening grip on the soil, and is washed away - there were no strong roots to hold it steady.
And so I pass over the threshold and out into the summer day.


Kneeling - it's where I need to be - I dig deeply.
Breaking up clumps of clay.
Turning over rich soil.
Sun shines down on my back - bent over.
Drops of moisture fall from face to earth.
Tiny plants, released from compact, plastic containers,
finally settle in to reach their roots down and find a place to anchor themselves.
I can almost hear them breathing...filling themselves up with nourishment only found here, where my knees connect with solid ground.
I need to come here more often. To my knees. Back bent over.
In supplication. And surrender. And confession.
I need deep roots.
I need to dig deep into ancient and sacred words that anchor me and fill me up.
Not just the warmth of the sun and the cleansing of water.
I need this, too. This rolling up my sleeves, and toiling over lumps of clay.
Knees stained dark with the richness of earth.
The Word of Life passing over me, around me and through me.
Settling into my heart and breathing life back into my soul.
Filling me up.
Anchoring me down.
Calling me to my knees to dig - and to breathe - deeply.

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68506::Poolside Family

Late in the day yesterday, our daughter sent us each this text:

Come to the pool after work :)

It was a brilliant idea!

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I Went to A Garden Party...

"But when I wasn't working, I was usually at a window looking down at Earth."
~Sally Ride

I have always wanted to look out of my kitchen window and see flowers.
I've moved a lot, and only one house - before this one - had a window over the kitchen sink.
This time, when we were looking for houses, that was at the top of my wish list.
Voila! I got the window in this house, and after four summers here,
I finally have the window box, too.
Better late than never, right?

What have your garden-gloved hands been up to lately?

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Wedding Blessing

This weekend, H and I drove to Denver for a wedding. It was the most beautiful wedding I've ever attended except, of course, for my own.

It was emotional, and significant.
It was sacred and holy.
And funny.
The bride is the daughter of our friends Rita and Brad.
Brad is a Pastor, and he not only gave his daughter away,
he also performed the wedding ceremony.
There were countless stops and starts as he stumbled over the lump in his throat.
Tears of sadness. Tears of joy.
As Brad said, "When a child finds true love, parents find true joy."
During the ceremony, the members of congregation were asked to extend our right hands toward the couple and participate in offering a blessing to them.
I raised my hand and found myself tripping over the lump in my own throat
(how did I leave my hotel room without tissues?!?!).
This is the blessing we offered:

Pastor: Creator of Brianna and Sean, Spirit of Love and Life; out of this whole world, two souls have found each other. Their destinies shall now be woven into one design, and their challenges and their joys shall not be known apart.

Men: May their home be a place of happiness for all who enter it; a place where the old and the young are renewed in each other's company.

Women: A place for growing and a place for sharing, a place for laughter, a place for prayer, a place for love, and a place for music.

Men: May those who are nearest them be constantly enriched by the beauty and bounty of Your love and their love for one another.

Women: May their work be a joy that serves the world and a struggle that gently matures them.

All: May their days be good and long, blessed with all the miracles of new life and new blessings.

~Amen.~

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This is me, jumping up and down and squealing with delight!

I wasn't gonna, but I haveta. Post about this dress.
Just for today. Please excuse the wrinkles while it dries in the fresh air and believe me when I tell you that I love this dress! Remember The Snowball Project? I'll forgive you if you don't, because I really haven't said much about it since it was rolled out to the crew here in my little internet world. We've kept at it, H and I. Living on a budget. Within our means. I've become the Queen of shopping our house for decorating updates, and shopping my closet for creative clothing options. No malls. No boutiques. Not even a garage sale. Since January. Cold turkey! And here we are in June. The season of graduations and weddings and garden parties. And brides who are registered at Target. Where I went to get a gift. And saw this dress on the clearance rack for $17.98. A steal! I tried it on, but it was too big. I returned it to the rack, and resigned myself to fate...it wasn't meant to be. Fast forward two days: I'm tagging along with my daughter who is shopping for herself in the Target across town, when what to my wondering eyes should appear but The Dress. In my size! For $9.98! SCORE! I love it when that happens!

P.S. Mom - I promise I will iron it before I wear it again.

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68506::Saltdogs

The City of Lincoln doesn't have a professional sports team. Instead, the entire state of Nebraska lives and dies with the wins and losses of the Cornhuskers, the college football team of The University of Nebraska, Lincoln (UNL).
Here is where they play. Memorial Stadium, on the campus of UNL.

On game day they say this stadium becomes the third largest "city" in the state, with over 85,000 fans in attendance.

Across the highway from Memorial Stadium sits Haymarket Park, home of the Saltdogs, Lincoln's semi-pro baseball team, and one of my favorite places to hang out.

Last night found me sitting in the stands for the first time this season.
Honestly, I'm not much of a baseball fan. I know the sport involves bases, and strikes, and home runs - that's about it. But a Saltdogs game is an event. The enterprise puts lots of creativity into each game, with contests among the fans, free t-shirts or bats, free hot dogs and ice cream thrown into the crowd. Fireworks every Friday.

No need to cook. That's H's second hot dog...gone in three bites. The crowd was sparse last night. It was one of the first games of the season, it had been raining all day, and there was a chill in the air. But no matter where you go in Lincoln, you always see someone you know.

Last night we saw our friend, Chassidy, one of Lincoln's finest. She took some time while on duty to hang out with us in the stands. I could write a post all about Chassidy and maybe one day I will. For now I'll just say that she is the original Wonder Woman.


Here's a view of the City of Lincoln from behind the safety net,
just as the sky was beginning to darken.

What local sports team is your favorite?

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Barefoot...

"Earth is crammed with Heaven, and every common bush afire with God, but only he who sees takes off his shoes..."
Elizabeth Barrett Browning

I pray a barefoot kind of weekend for each of you. A weekend filled with marvelous memories in the making, and moments overflowing with giddiness and joy. I pray you don't miss the seconds where Heaven sneaks in and allows you a baptism of glee. I pray you soak in the words and the actions that leave you breathless with awe. I pray you splash grace on those you meet along the way. I pray for rest and peace and love this weekend; pressed down, shaken together, running over into your soul, and springing up between your barefoot toes.

Be blessed.

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Journaling

I find myself sometimes "pursued" by The Word and emotions and thoughts and feelings and wonderings get all tangled up in my innermost self. I find myself switching laundry from washer to dryer, or dishes from sink to dishwasher, but stumbling around in my head over the wonderings in my heart. And I am then compelled - yes, driven - to find a pen and paper...usually my journal, resting and waiting by the side of my bed, or next to my computer, but sometimes a receipt or an envelope left on the kitchen counter. The jumble spills out onto paper and my Father meets me there. I am somehow detached and yet so fully connected as chaos comes to order on the page. The Spirit speaks to me from the page and I know that the words are not mine, and they are completely mine. For who can know the mind of God, but the Spirit of God?
It escapes from this broken vessel, and spills over onto the page.

Do you journal? When you write, what do you write about?
Ann Voskamp's writing a series about journaling this month on her blog, A Holy Experience.
It is so sweet to read.

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68506::Jazz In June

Let me just start this out by saying that winter in Nebraska takes no prisoners. The temperatures drop below freezing and stay there for weeks on end. With no trees or mountains out on the prairie, the wind (gusting up to forty mph) whips right through you. A ginormous amount of snow falls on the ground and is covered in a layer of ice that hangs around until mid-March. Everyone dresses like Ralphie's little brother in A Christmas Story: layers upon constrictive layers of weather proof clothes.

It's no wonder then, when Jazz in June rolls around each year, Nebraskans stream out of their homes and blanket the lawn of the Sheldon Art Gallery as far as the eye can see.

It had been raining all day long, and the weather forecasters on every channel warned there could be thunderstorms throughout the evening. During the day, we kept our eyes to the sky. H and I debated all evening whether or not we should risk it. During dinner, at the kitchen table, I saw a beam of sunlight fall on the wood floor. I watched for at least thirty seconds and it didn't fade away. I said, "Let's go." H said, "Let's ride our bikes."

And so we did.

It was a perfect night for a bike ride. And when we arrived, we were not alone. I think everyone was ready for summer's long evenings, warm temps and lazy nights.

Jazz in June happens every Tuesday in the month of June. It's hosted by the Sheldon Art Gallery, which is located on the campus of the University of Nebraska. There are vendors - some crafts, but mostly food. It's a great after-work excursion: grab a burrito and a glass of lemonade to enjoy while listening to live jazz and watching the people under the setting sun.

Starting things off this year was the Nebraska Jazz Orchestra, with Christine Hitt providing vocals. The orchestra is a favorite of long time Jazz in Juners, and plays lots of big band tunes.
During the concert, the Sheldon Art Gallery stays open all evening, at no charge.

I kept watching this photographer. He was everywhere! Here he is on a truck, right behind the band. I have no idea how he got up there...or down, for that matter.
I'm sure he got some great shots.

H and I headed home around 8:30, just as the second set began.
Glad we risked it.
And not one drop of rain.

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