Something got into me yesterday. If that wasn’t enough of a surprise when I woke up this morning that ‘something’ came knocking at my door again and I let ‘it’ in with no hesitancy on my part. It wasn’t a stray animal, a spider, or a group of the elder bugs which bathed in the sun last week. No, nothing like that. It was subdued yet purposeful. It was quiet but created an on-going echo in my brain as I opened the door. I did not gasp. I did not shriek back in horror. I embraced this guest. I welcomed it and I gave it nourishment. I entertained “Cleaning Frenzy” for two days. I never left the house. I was confined within the walls, moving from room to room as I cleaned, dusted, vacuumed, washed, tossed, put away, and rearranged. If I didn’t know better I would have thought that I had entered a phase of “nesting” as pregnant women often do before giving birth to their baby.

“Cleaning Frenzy” had been an unwelcome guest in my home lately. In the past we’ve enjoyed numerous long, deep conversations which have stretched across the time within a week’s passing. Ignoring and not having “Cleaning Frenzy” in my home was no fault of hers–I take full responsibility for the estrangement that elapsed over time between our friendship. She would call, even leave a message or two, all to no avail. I chose to ignore her, to convince my mind that she didn’t matter and that I had better things to do with my time than drop everything just so she could be happy. That attitude worked during the summer months, when I could escape outside for a walk or run and even hop in the car and spend time with friends or shopping. While away from home I thought I had the upper hand in our relationship, but I have found out what a devoted friend she has been and continues to be in spite of my wrongful attitude.

“Cleaning Frenzy” waited patiently during the warm weeks and now that cooler weather has arrived, once again she sent a new message only this time it contained a bit more girth and oomph. The message came amongst dust balls the side of quarters, stacks of papers and magazines that have grown tired of being ignored, smudges on mirrors and windows that remind me we had Sarah’s little pups here for a few days. While the bathrooms had been ‘spot cleaned’ there were areas that beckoned for a wee bit more attention than a Lysol wipe can swipe. Even the closets weren’t safe from “Cleaning Frenzy”. Why, she made herself SO at home that she actually asked me to carry out three bags of unneeded and unwanted items to the dumpster. Of all the nerve. But, when I looked at how neat the closet shelves were after she tossed, rearranged, and washed inside I had to admit that she was onto something with all this energy she brought with her! She also encouraged me not to feel guilty about the ‘stuff’ that found a new home in the trash. Just how many tubes of half used body cream or mist does a person really need? and why do people keep candles that have been burned and don’t match the current decor? Then there’s the stack of photos that keep getting moved from one closet to another. How liberating to actually look through them one last time and discard the ones that were horrible to begin with or don’t conjure any real memory that needs to be archived any longer.

So, “Cleaning Frenzy” came to visit me for two days and we enjoyed a wonderful time together. As she left she lovingly reminded me not to let so much time go by before calling her again. As I smiled and waved I promised her I’d do just that. She left quietly and I’ve had ample time to relax along with enjoying the fruit of our labor, until “Personal Cleaner” called asking me why I’ve been ignoring her? Ouch. So, because I truly value the friendship I have with “Personal Cleaner”, after a hearty breakfast I got my favorite Bible and journal on my lap and dug into reading and reflecting on the wisdom that scripture has to share. “Personal Cleaner” and I spent some much needed time being quiet and admitting that some of “my own closets” were in dire need of being dusted and purged. And, though tempted to simply grab a thought and give a quick swipe of my inner most being to perform some ‘spot cleaning’ I allowed Jesus to do a more thorough washing. He nor I didn’t have to carry out three bags of trash, but He did remind me that “Cleaning Frenzy” and “Personal Cleaner” are two friends that deserve more consistency in our relationships.

Just as the cute pink graphic states…..I do consider myself to be in the process of recovering from perfectionism, a characteristic that I could write about in many different directions and expand my thoughts that would fill more than several pages. If i were to do so, I could choose to go the direction of blaming my past or a parent for this shortcoming, but I won’t. Instead, I’m choosing to write from a heart that really does struggle with being perfect and the sheer surprise discovering this trait although I never would describe myself as a “perfectionist”—raw reality is that I am…..I was…and probably will continue to be as I age.

When did I have this great revelation? The answer was given to me in August. I was attending a ministry training event which includes a session of personal ministry and God revealed to my team that “perfectionism” was an area of my life that had become a struggle in the negative sense of the word. While I don’t need or feel an obligation to divulge the entirety of the session, I do want to share my thoughts on how I arrived to realizing there is a struggle to be perfect waging within me…..at times.

I remember being in 7th grade homemaking class where I was learning to sew. Our first project was to construct a potholder. I was so excited when I purchased my fabric which was assured by the sales clerk to be ‘perfect’ for my project. I can still see it–it was white with pink polka dots. I eagerly watched our instructor as she taught us how to create our pieces and in each class demonstrate putting the pieces together. I always made sure I had a front row position to see her work so that when I sat down at my machine I could duplicate her work. Much to my dismay my efforts did not produce a beautiful piece of work. I remember using my little seam ripper over and over to remove badly stitched seams……eventually I became so frustrated over that little potholder that ‘fear’ came knocking at my door to take a seat next to ‘my project must be perfect’. Fear gained such a good seat, that I also recall trying to daydream or wish the clock to stop in my class before home economics. With each glance of the clock, the ticking of minutes giving way to the dismissal bell and the walk to home economics brought a sick feeling in my stomach. That little potholder was supposed to be a short, simple project but it turned into a giant mess threatening with my emotional well being. Each time I resewed my little potholder and presented it to the teacher for approval, I prayed that it “would be good enough” for her srcutinizing eyes. Following numerous tear outs and twisting of fabric I was finally finished, done–no more. I will always remember my grade–a C+.

7th grade was a long time ago, but in the years that have passed perfectionism has had many opportunities to show its ugly face. It has come through but not limited to: defining myself as a person, parenting skills, cooking talent, relationships, work, ministry, my home–I think you get the picture. My ministry team lovingly pointed out to me that for too long I’ve been striving to be perfect, worried that I will fall short, concerned with the opinions of others rather than looking for my affirmation and worth solely with God.

If struggling to be perfect isn’t enough, I also realized that another cohort likes to tag along and that’s “procrastination”. I’m real good at that one too. Connect the dots and the solution I found was that by procrastinating I didn’t have to worry about being perfect. Put off a hard or time consuming project long enough and you can’t fail, right? Wrong. An assignment, project, or task with a deadline will always win the battle for completion. I’ve put off making phone calls when I know the conversation won’t be an easy one. I’ve exchanged doing necessary reading for a leisurely few hours on the computer. The stress that results then from scrambling as the “deadline” approaches is mine and only mine as long as I don’t drag others into this part of my life.

It’s October now, only a couple of months since the head-to-head meeting regarding my perfectionism. I’d like to say that I’ve made some really good advances in winning the battle but I would be a liar. What I have won is a new and retained perspective that God doesn’t expect me to be perfect. It’s okay if I make mistakes. It’s okay too to allow my loved ones and friends to be themselves without interference from me. Gaining this insight and using it as a tool to navigate through each day has empowered me and helped to set me free. For awhile many of my expectations to do everything right was an agenda that was only readable to me; it was a hard copy in my mind completely hidden from others, yet I reasoned that others would take notice of a backslide and hold me accountable i.e. when I left my job in May I mentally made a commitment to write my blog on Tuesday. That mental promise to myself was upheld for quite some time until I began to receive invitations and offers for other things to fill my time. There have been several weeks when my blog wasn’t written until Wednesday. Well, today is Thursday and here is my blog and I can honestly say not ONE of my friends has contacted me to say “Where is your blog? What are you doing? Aren’t you going to stick to your promise? As absurd as it is, no one had to contact me because I was able to entertain those very questions all by myself until I got the key that unlocked the door named “Guilty Perfectionist”, opened it, and stepped on the welcome mat to the door called “Freedom Living”.

I’m thankful for the memory of a C+ potholder. I’m glad that experience is behind me yet the memory serves as a teaching tool for myself or to use for others struggling to be perfect. As that fearful, little 7th grade girl everything about the agony and frustrations of a poor sewing project consumed me to the point of wanting time to stop and caused me to lose focus of a bigger picture. Fast forward to gaining more skills and confidence as a seamstress and I’m pleased to report that I went on to constructing many garments for myself, my home, and my children. Most precious to me are the weeks that my mother-in-law and I spent together sewing my wedding gown. She was an advanced seamstress compared to my abilities, but I learned and I succeeded. In my mind I got an A for the dress and an A+ for precious time with a wonderful woman–so I kind of think those moments in time victoriously cancels out the C+ a little 7th grade girl received a long time ago and lends to my success of exchanging perfectionism for freedom.

Happy birthday? Yes. Happy Birthday to our daughter Sarah who celebrates her arrival on the scene September 29. (I will leave out her age in deference to allowing her to disclose that information).

Upon returning from my afternoon walk today, and as I sat down for a cool down and cold glass of water, I began to think “what shall I write about this week?” It’s not my intention to bore myself or my readers with drivel; I want my posts to be enjoyable, encouraging, offer an occasional chuckle or pause to ponder. It occurred to me that the end of September is just around the corner and with that comes Sarah’s birthday.

We love our daughter. She is our elder of two children. We waited awhile to have her after battling some infertility issues. Not everyone knows about that struggle. Fortunately for us, our depth of struggle pales in comparison to family members and friends whose experiences are quite different. Yet in consideration of all of that, God saw fit to gift us with Sarah at 3:40 pm on Sept. 29. She arrived on her due date. She was the first grandchild for Jim’s parents and was another granddaughter for my own. As all moms believe, I thought she was the most beautiful of all babies and was delighted that she was a most easy-going child who began sleeping through the night at age 7 weeks, did not cry or fuss a lot, and adapted readily to new situations. It’s hard to believe the number of years that those memories are from.

If you’ll bear with me, I’d like to write a love letter to my daughter. I do so not only to brag a little, but to encourage all mothers of daughters regardless of their age. So….

Dear Sarah:

As your mother I could not be more proud or ecstatic than I already am. From the time we knew a child was being expected, we wanted you. In fact, we yearned a long time for you. We prayed for you to come to us and God granted an answer to that prayer.
On Sept. 29 at 3:40 pm the doctor placed you in my arms. Thank you for not putting your momma through a horrific labor! After about 8 hours of labor you made your appearance and won the hearts of everyone immediately. It didn’t take us long to completely fall in love with you and we still enjoy hearing Grandpa Kretchman tell of how ‘two grammas were chomping at the bit to get behind the glass and hold you” while visiting us in the hospital. You were an incredibly easy baby to care for and transitioned into toddlerhood with great ease…..walked into elementary school with some fear…..and continued embracing changes with a degree of confidence spurred on by a small measure of encouragement from us when needed. No amount of space here could contain all the joyful memories we have of you thus far but I’d like to list a few which are in no particular order:

1. You belonged to Gramma Jewell on Thursday nights when dad and I attended church choir practice. Gramma could triple diaper you, a feat I never achieved
2. You were Uncle Jo-Jo’s niece who went everywhere with him, Bubba & Stash. Don’t think you knew their real names for a long time!
3. You surprised us all when we found out you were actually shy when you began kindergarten; you wouldn’t tell your principal your name
4. You were the hit with all the older folks at church, “Little Sarah” they called you.
5. Your ‘chattiness’ in 1st grade allowed your teacher to see this as a strength and she sat you next to a little boy who needed ‘some social skills’
6. You made friends quickly and by 6th grade you met Keri, became fast friends, and to this day she has never left your side; she has your back
7. When you were about age 8 you got a nickname “Sarah the Giver”. You’ve grown into that very nicely. On numerous occasions you have shared with me how you’ve been able to bless others because of God’s provision to you. You have even traveled to Honduras 3 times on mission projects–something I’m not sure I am capable of doing myself.
8. You are loyal to your brother (plus everyone in the family) to a level of description that words really can’t describe.
9. You’re funny–you have a way of saying things that blow me away with laughter.
10. You’re empathetic–you quickly identify with someone’s pain. You dislike mistreatment of others.
11. You enjoy learning, especially about God. You aren’t afraid to question and you don’t back down from a good debate. You know what you believe. You possess great discernment.
12. You are a wonderful prayer warrior.
13. You are a survivor. You’ve been hurt and you’ve hurt. But, we’ve seen you take ownership of what belongs to you and witnessed how you released the burdens to God’s care.
14. Your inner beauty far outweighs the outer beauty that you possess, a beauty that was fashioned by Christ and it has and still remains pure joy to see you grow, walk, and operate in that relationship with Him
15. You are loyal, you are a fabulous daughter, sister, granddaughter, cousin, niece, friend and now you’re a happy fiance to a great young man. It’s sweet to hear about your plans and the progress reports along the way.

So, happy birthday Sarah. When we celebrated your first birthday you cried when all the family gathered around you and your cake, singing. You don’t do that anymore. Now you can’t wait for birthdays and Christmas or “just because presents” because you enjoy receiving a gift as much as giving one. Our gift to you this year will be the same as always, promises to always love you unconditionally, support and encourage your dreams, listen attentively when it’s been a rough day, and continue to navigate through the coming years as you continue to grow into who God has created you to be. We will forever remain your greatest cheerleaders!
Much love–Da Momma & Da Daddy

There, I said it. I typed it –I admit that I am a “people pleaser”. Even though this soon-to-be 60 year old woman likes to believe she’s made huge strides in this area of her character, there is a remnant of worry which I like to call “What if everyone doesn’t like me or what I say or do?” So, what if?…..

Before I elaborate on that question I will tell you that I HAVE made a vast improvement in the realm of wanting or believing that I had to have approval from everyone whether it was in various work settings, church, community service, relationships, and at home. I’ve been part of Bible studies, prayer groups, women’s retreats and major conferences so hearing and absorbing “knowledge” has not been lacking–what was and continues to be a shortcoming for me is “application”. There’s a verse in the Book of James that says “do not merely hear the Word, but be doers of the Word” (my paraphrase).

I’m not sure when and where people pleasing became a garment that I was so willing to take out of my personality closet and wear with gusto. An examination of my childhood reveals memories of wanting my parents to be pleased with me for reasons other than I was their third child and fulfilled their dreams of having a daughter. Was that enough for them? Was it enough for me? I wasn’t really good at any particular ‘thing’ as a child. I was accustomed to hearing that I was ‘cute’ but not ‘pretty’ (unless it was dad doing the talking) I was smaller than most of the kids in my classes even through high school. I donned much needed glasses by 5th grade thus gaining a new garment–“four eyes”. I had and still do bear a tooth that didn’t quite fit into the top front row of my teeth–thus another term “buck tooth” echoes in my mind. How does admitting this small fraction of childhood fit with being a “people pleaser”? I developed using humor as a shield. If I could make other people laugh my sense of safety and feeling accepted scored points on the board of “I’m Okay, They Like Me” game.

Another aspect of being a people pleaser is developing the inability to say “No”. Oh, the anguish of feeling pressured to make sure I didn’t hurt anyone’s feelings by not obliging to a request even when doing so meant I was stretching my valuable time. Partnered with this “can’t say no” is taking on an attitude of “If I don’t do it, who will?” I fell into that trap when my kids were in high school. At one point it took a trusted friend to sit down with me and discuss/reveal to me that I had 7 plates spinning in the air (remember those kind of jugglers featured on a variety show?) Picture those plates nestled on top of their flexible poles, begin the spinning one by one until all are rotating in unison and you have a pretty good idea of how my chaotic schedule was from week to week for several years. That meeting taught me the most valuable lesson I had in life at that point in the time–the ability to say “no”….permission to say “no”.

Fast forward from the meeting with my friend to the present. I’ve already admitted my struggle and have shared my sense of victory in fear of living as a “people pleaser”. Lest I think I have failed, I have not. On the contrary, during my years of struggle I found a well known and popular verse in the Bible that says “seek first the Kingdom of God and all else will be added to you” (again, my paraphrase) That verse, joined with other teachings from the Word over the years have given me the freedom and the release I needed. I exchanged being a “people pleaser” for becoming a “God pleaser”. I already have His unconditional love because that’s His character. I have His acceptance as a daughter because I chose to put my trust in His Son, Jesus Christ. So, if I do NOTHING else in life, I’m OKAY. But, I don’t want to live a “nothing” life. No, I am choosing to live a “somethings” life….somethings matter,,,,,,,somethings don’t!

“Seek to please Me above else….” this was the opening sentence in today’s devotional. Thank you, Lord, I needed that reminder and affirmation that I’m not created to make everyone around me happy. I’m not here to make sure things around me happen. I’m not here to live under falsehood and lies.

My closet has been cleaned. The “people pleasing” garment has been removed and destroyed. The clothing given to me that bore hurtful nicknames has been long gone as well. Another exchange took place. My closet is now full of “righteousness” clothing. I’ve got quite the wardrobe and it was totally free. Well, free for me but paid for by an incredibly enormous price by my Abba Daddy. His Son, Jesus Christ, gave His life sacrificially in order that I might share in His sufferings but above all, walk in His Victory.

So, what if someone doesn’t like me? I’m okay with that. What if someone is offended by something I may say? I’m okay with that. What if I say “no” to a friend and they are caught off guard? I’m okay with that. What if that old “people pleasing” spirit keeps trying to become reacquainted with me? I’m not okay with that. What if?…..still working on eliminating that question from time to time and rejoicing that the scoreboard that reflects my progress is looking better and better in my favor.

Age: the length of time during which a being or thing has existed.

“Well, I’m at that age…..” How many times has that phrase been part of a conversation you’ve had recently or ever for that matter? What exactly is age. In order to help establish it in my own mind as I sit down to write today I first went to Google search and typed in ‘definition of age’ and the above short phrase was the majority answer. What I did not do is choose to explore Google Images with the word “age” to see what photos are associated with it; I think that would be an interesting search. I’ll save that for another day.

Even though we are still in the month of September I’m looking ahead to November when I exchange one decade of birthday celebrations for another–I will turn 60. When I do so another popular phrase will echo in my mind and I’m certain from at least one friend…”where has the time gone?” Indeed, where has the time gone and yet of more significance to me is “what am I doing WITH my time and WHAT have I accomplished in my 60 years? Completing a descriptive answer to those questions would require more space than I allow myself but I would like to give a list of my ‘accomplishments’ thus far:

1. Became a delight to my parents who after two sons received a daughter on Nov. 5, 1953. Dad had served in WWII and the Korean Conflict so I am most certain my mother was grateful to have her husband return home.
2. Graduated high school in 1971 and business school in 1972 and secured a full time position with a local bank (which is now Chase Bank)
3. Married in 1974….divorced in 1979…..remarried in 1980 and soon to celebrate 33 years with Jim.
4. Birthed our daughter Sarah at age 29, welcomed Daniel at age 34
5. Moved to Fowlerville in 1989, leaving our families in Saginaw where we both were born and thought would remain
6. Served two terms on Board of Education for Fowlerville Schools
7. Said goodbye to my mother-in-law in 1995, my own mother in 1999 and my father in 2012
8. Worked 10 years for our community newspaper
9. Served in various roles at our local church and currently enjoy the privilege of teaching women from the Word of God
10. Have received training/teaching through Victorious Ministry Through Christ, a healing ministry
11. Have enjoyed three visits in the last 6 years to California where I have lifelong friends
12. Have a restored friendship with a “bestie” whom we have spent summers along the shore of Lake Huron and her home in Illinois
13. Rid ourselves of consumer debt except for the mortgage on our home
14. Experienced 3 laps in a Nascar vehicle on the track in Brooklyn, Michigan
15. Attempted a snowboard at the age of 40+……
16. Ran my first 5k (I did walk a lot of it) on July 13, 2013
17. Ran my 2nd 5k (I walked about 1/4 of it) on Sept. 7, 2013
18. Became a Mentor Mom in the MOPs ministry in 2012
19. Sang my first solo at age 19
20. Read my Aunt Esther’s book in 2012–she published this book at age 88

Number 20 is the heart of my heart today as I ponder “what is age”. My Aunt Esther is a retired school teacher. She is also a widow and she thrives on staying alert and purposeful. The fact she wrote her book is cause enough for a loud cheer, yet what encourages me is her approach to life. She is one of my dad’s sisters and although she will make an occasional joke about ‘being a little bit old, or a little bit hard of hearing’ her main focus is on the ‘now’. Will I write a book? I don’t know, but I am writing a weekly blog. I’ve written human interest articles in past years for our newspaper. I don’t know where my love for writing will take me. I’m focusing on my own ‘now’.

I’ve decided that my ‘now’ looks like a woman who is very happy to be back home full time after working for the last 10 years. I’m really enjoying the quality time I have to be outside exercising or showing up at my trainer’s gym for my twice a week workout. I’ve had time this summer to be a bum and I’ve had ample time to read one of the many books that have been waiting for their pages to be devoured. My decision to return home has also opened up my calendar to be available to spend precious time with our adult children, deposits into my emotional tank that may have been lost if not for the choice I made in May 2013.

To those that would say to me “you’re old” my response is “No, no I’m not old. Age is a number.” Furthermore, it’s also not a ‘dirty’ word (my opinion) and honestly I believe has become so because of ‘fear. If you ask me what adjectives I would connect to age this would be my brief list: wisdom…..knowledge…..experience……change…..anticipation…….maturity.

If it weren’t for my older aunts I would have no one to call on when I need Biblical Wisdom. If it weren’t for Knowledge I would not have had my mother-in-law to help further my sewing skills. If it weren’t for Experience I wouldn’t have had a good friend Janet to encourage me about living in hard financial times. If it weren’t for Change I wouldn’t have Grandpa Jewell’s testimony of accepting Christ when he was 55. If it weren’t Anticipation I wouldn’t have our family history of mother’s parents coming to America in 1910 and 1913.

Finally, if it weren’t for Maturity I’d probably say a lot more stupid things than I already do at times, out loud or on Facebook. I turn 60 this year. Don’t send me a black card. Don’t give me silly gifts of over-the-counter meds associated with growing older. Instead, give yourself the gift of ‘life’ and ‘living young’. Give yourself time to discover and focus on your own ‘now’ and if you need some laughter, or some wisdom, or some encouragement come see me. Call first in case I’m out and about ‘living in the now’.

Labor Day 2013 has come and gone and with it the start of another school year is the current “buzz topic” around our communities. It’s been awhile since I’ve had the privilege of chiming in with other moms either lamenting or cheering the fact that my own kids would return to school, leaving me to either cherish or grieve the silence of our home. My home is quiet with the absence of my now young adult children. Our oldest, a daughter, lives a short distance from us and is currently very well established in a career holding down a management position. Our son lives a bit further away and attends Eastern Michigan University and works part-time. He is scheduled to graduate in June 2014. Sarah is also enrolled in one course at Lansing Community College. So, although my house is “quiet” and they are no longer in public education, they are both wrapped up in the school year routine.

When the kids were home and life centered around their schooling for those nine months from grades K through 12 our family pretty much planned our lives based on that calendar. As they got older and more involved with sports our schedules got even tighter and some weeks down-right hectic. Until one or both could drive the wheels on our van never seemed to stop turning. Running from practice to practice or a quick drive through for a bite to eat was a common thread as we tried to maintain who needed to be where at what time. You know what I mean. It was a God send when we connected with another family or two (or three) to help share in the transportation.

It’s only Sept. 3 and yet I’ve heard several people say “well, summer’s over”. I have to laugh because when our kids hit high school we pretty much figured our summer ended mid August when they began practice for fall sports. Now that those years are far behind me, I like to think that summer isn’t over until it’s over….and how will that look? Do I have to go by the official calendar date that marks the end of summer? Can I go by the outside temps and the ability to still wear sandals and shorts? Or enjoy the gentle breezes through open windows rather than closing everything to turn on air conditioning?

As much as I want or would enjoy having summer extend past August there’s just something about September. Even though the days are still warm and sunny (allowing one to wear sandals and shorts) there’s a different feel and smell to the air. A walk around my yard reveals evidence of plants slowly dying from their full vibrancy getting ready to go dormant for another winter. Taking a deep breath brings aromas that aren’t here in June or July….the smell of cooler air, the changing of the leaves, the dryness of the yard….fall definitely has its own “smell” and no amount of lamenting or cheering can change that fact.

After 10 years this is my first full summer being home. When I came home full-time in early May I thought “wow….I’ve got the whole summer to do what I want and when I want”….amazing now that I look back that I didn’t accomplish quite everything on my ‘summer dream list’. But that’s okay because now I’m easing into the arms of fall and actually looking forward to winter. With each season I gain a new sense of excitement as the natural changes of nature occur. I get bored easily and for that reason the change of seasons help to keep me anticipating and expecting new experiences and opportunities personally and within my family.

Summer 2013 has many memories recorded in my “treasure bank”, many of which I will pull to the front of my mind later this fall and into the long days of the coming winter. When I bring up a “treasured memory” hopefully it be over a glass of fresh apple cider or a mug of hot chocolate when the first snowfall creates a blanket covering the remnants of all that was fall. In the meantime, I will continue to enjoy each day, revel in any ability to continue wearing sandals and shorts and embrace what each day has to offer while anticipating my first deposit to my Fall 2013 “treasure bank”.

I’m not what people would describe as a “morning person”.  I am embarrassed to admit that in my younger years my mood for an entire day could be determined by how or when I was awakened. I also enjoyed sleeping in until mid morning when my mother wasn’t around to choose otherwise (that’s another whole blog). But, I’ve matured (I think) and have actually grown to love and embrace mornings especially when the sun is shining, filling our bedroom with the light and warmth from its majestic radiance.

I have always enjoyed the beauty of nature whether it was as a child watching ants work to build a home and gather crumbs for their food store or trapping crickets to have a collection of “pets”. I also was an eager assistant for digging up night crawlers with a neighborhood boy named David; his family had a cottage at Houghton Lake and were avid fishermen.

Perhaps my greatest enjoyment is listening to the songbirds that come to visit our pine trees and the many insects that have taken up residency in our shrubs, flower beds, and lawn. I’ve noticed that the birds are most active between 5 and 6 am. The conversations that I’m privy to as I begin to wake are most delightful. I love to imagine what they are talking about as each voice joins with another. Perhaps they are beckoning or announcing the promise of a new day…..a new food source…..or warnings of natural predators…..or are they responding to a Biblical command: “Praise the Lord from the earth, you great sea creatures and all the depths….beasts and all cattle; creeping things and flying fowl. (Psalm 148) I marvel that these small creations of God’s nature are obedient to their purpose.

Earlier this week we enjoyed (and still are) watching various butterflies coming to feast on our butterfly bush. The wonder of their fluttering wings is a sight to behold and even more enjoyable is that we can approach ever so cautiously and these lovelies don’t become afraid and fly off and away to another plant. We have been diligent in placing a hummingbird feeder on the porch but low and behold the annual visitors prefer the nectar provided by a hanging plant in full bloom. Some of these tiny birds have even hovered in front of the window either confused or admiring the reflection, all the while providing us a bit of brief entertainment.

As much as daytime hours provide abundant appreciation of the birds who come to our yard, I think the evening music is by far my favorite of all. Upon the setting of the sun a choir made up of numerous insects comes to life. On Tuesday evening I was entertained by a particular song piece that was an echo….first one group chirped a few lines and the second group answered…with its own melody. This back and forth concert lasted about half an hour. The song changed as the second group quieted and the first group continued with their performance.

When we’ve had a lot of rain which fills the ditch along our road, we get to enjoy the bellows of frogs. It’s been dry lately so I’m hoping for rain–I miss those guys! With the level of noise this section of the nighttime choir makes, it causes me to wonder “just how many frogs does it take to be that loud?”

It strikes me that the music of the nighttime choir helps to lull me into restful sleep and then with the same peaceful feeling be gently awakened by the morning vocalists. The words will forever be a mystery to me and yet a glimpse into understanding them may come from Lamentations 3: 22-23 “Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness”. I’m thankful that all of creation responds with heartfelt gratitude for a new day, and their proclamation song fills my heart and my day with a beauty that is consistent and varied–fading from day to evening and evening ushering in a brand new day complete with a revised version of “God’s new mercies….”

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about “My Favorite Things”. This week as I pondered what I would write about a general concept kept crossing my mind. What if I were to compile a list of “things” that I can count on–you know–almost like Murphy’s Law. The concept that no matter how much one prepares for the day, the week, there are monkey wrenches thrown in the plan or in this case–those “things” that always pop up here and there throughout our day because we just know it will happen or needs to be accomplished. In entertaining this concept I’m not dwelling on negative events in any way. In fact, I am thankful that many of the “things” I can count on bring happiness to my life. So, with that established I’d like to give you a list of a few  “things” I can count on and, again, they are in no particular order other than number 1.

1. God’s promises to be made known to me each morning as I read His Word
2. Hot coffee every morning because that’s one of the many things my husband does to show his love for me
3. Sore muscles every Tuesday and Saturday following my strength training session
4. My best friend Luann singing in the morning as she readies her day
5. Morning chat time with my daughter on her way to work
6. Weeds in my flower beds
7. My perennials to come up year after year….producing new offshoots too
8. Mosquitoes buzzing…fireflies in July…..spiders emerging on cool days and ants looking for crumbs
9. Mailbox sunshine from Heather several times each month
10. A Sunday morning hug from Rhonda
11. My wonderful husband getting slightly irritated with other drivers on a long road trip
12. Seeing photos of my friends grandchildren or kids on their Facebook wall
13. A slight tease now and then from Kevin or one of the boys
14. Dirty laundry
15. An unexpected text message from Daniel to brighten my day
16. Inability to resist fresh baked cookies
17. Getting rain on a just-washed car
18. NEVER making the light at our corner
19. Poodle kisses from Jennah and Quinn
20. Feeling melancholy every September as children return to school

Because I am no longer working outside the home right now one would think that I am enjoying tremendous amounts of free time. Quite the contrary, I am finding that my calendar weeks fill quickly with opportunities to be occupied whether it’s for my benefit or for someone else. Fortunately, I have wonderful devices that alert me ahead of time when and where I  am scheduled to be throughout my week. As I move through each day I am often greeted with one or more of “my things I can count on”. I’m thrilled that I have God’s Word and that hot cup of coffee to begin my morning. A morning chat with my daughter is always a delight and if I receive mailbox sunshine when bringing in the afternoon mail my heart is warmed by the words penned with deep love. Daily tasks of preparing meals and washing dishes are intertwined with some time checking Facebook to see what’s going on in the lives of my friends and family; I can spot things that need prayer or even send a quick email to say hello or ask a question.

In an ever-changing world I like stability. I don’t like unexpected turn of events unless it means being able to exchange mundane for having fun! I like safe. If it weren’t for my faith and trust in God I would fear the uncertainties in life that bring fear and worry. I know that each day holds the potential for the “unexpected” and if or when something were to occur I will remain on the path called “Steadfastness”. As I do so, I will continue to take comfort from the “things I can count on” (See No. 1)

Today (Aug. 5) was another “one of those days” that didn’t belong to me or turn out the way I had thought it would be coming off a good weekend of weather and relaxation with friends which also included a quiet afternoon all to myself. As I settled into a cozy Sunday evening enjoying a cool breeze through the open window and a quick browse through my Facebook contacts I found myself in an open chat with a dear friend relaying the details of a medical emergency involving her daughter, who by the way, is the same age as our daughter. Thus, we are kindred spirits–we are mommas who share a deep love for our girls.

I don’t need or want to go into what those medical details are, nonetheless they are serious and with no hesitation my husband and I decided that in the morning (today–Monday) we would make the drive to the University of Michigan Hospital to visit Kelli, her husband, and our good friends and offer our support, encouragement, and above all else–an opportunity to pray with them instead of just FOR them.

Many of you (my dear readers) know that I live in a small rural community. Our tallest building is maybe three floors. And although I grew up in Saginaw our tallest building in the downtown was 12 floors. So, when we made our exit from US 23 to Downtown Ann Arbor, turning in the direction of the hospital complex I was amazed at the number of buildings connected to one another, several of them looming above the others and all bearing their specialties in big bold letters. I’ve been to Ann Arbor for trips to this same complex but each time has revealed a new aspect of the enormity of this particular healthcare system. At the moment that reality hit me,  I found myself catapulted from my small, quiet rural setting to the busy, hectic and complicated lives of individuals and families walking a hard road.

As we made our way through the parking ramp, each floor, each vehicle and their occupants began telling me an imagined story. I started forming questions in my mind such as ‘I wonder what all these people are doing here?” “Are there this many sick people?” “How many people work here?” The answers didn’t come. They couldn’t because I was an outsider, a bystander on the sidelines of each life.  No–instead on occasion I saw a family with a mentally challenged son make their way to the elevator. He was about 16. Was he born this way? Did an accident rob him of previous good health? Further along were several individuals in wheelchairs making their way to the elevators. Cancer? Therapy? Other needs? I began to think about some of our friends over the years who have been to this hospital for care: a kidney transplant from a daddy to his little girl, one of our son’s best friends who was treated in the burn unit, and others (too many) for cancer treatment.

As we walked the hallways of the hospital we also passed numerous personnel. Each one had a determined, purposeful look and gait to their step. I marveled at how young many of them looked. We also saw people who were in waiting areas…..men and women in wheelchairs….patients being walked down the hallway with a loved one all the while connected to an IV…..a mural of moving scenes that continued to draw me into a world full of questions, blankets of fear, and upside down dreams.

We arrived to our destination. Our visit with Kelli and her family was fantastic. We shared tears and we found laughter in the midst of encouragement and the reality of minor obstacles. We witnessed the love and care offered by complete strangers who are slowly becoming Kelli’s world for the next two weeks.

Later in the early afternoon in God’s great scheme of life, our footsteps crossed the path of a good friend from church who was waiting for a brother to arrive in order that they could make what are called “end of life decisions” for their dear father. In just a few days this beloved, aged man will exchange citizenship from  one place to another and we were able to encourage and give hugs before departing from that brief cross in two paths.

Upon our decision to return home, we took our place in the elevator for the very brief descent to the parking garage. In those very short moments we greeted another passenger, a lone female. One question from myself to her revealed her shocking news–a 57 yr. old boyfriend–formally in good health, diagnosed with pnuemonia had taken a turn for the worse and had been declared brain dead. She would be facing “end of life decisions” on Tuesday morning. All we could say was “We are SO sorry….” as the doors of the elevator opened and we parted our ways, another chance meeting of someone walking on a hard, emotional path leading to a final goodbye.

We left Ann Arbor in a fair amount of silence. We moved along with the busy traffic making our way out of the city to the expressway where we joined other cars and trucks of all sizes headed in our direction. I couldn’t help but think  again “what is their story?” as the hospital complex disappeared from our rear view mirror. I felt a twinge of sadness that with such ease I was able to be returning to the comforts of home, unencumbered and quite healthy knowing my biggest decision for the ensuing evening was choosing what to prepare for dinner. A wave of gratitude swept over me and blanketed me with humility and appreciation for living in good circumstances.

I’ve said final goodbyes to both parents and a mother-in-law. Those are bittersweet memories that I cherish, but having spent but a few hours in one our nation’s most prestigious hospitals still reminded me that life is fragile, it is precious and it is temporary. For that reason I am  joyfully embracing the Truth that my residency here on earth is not permanent. I feel myself dancing inside as I  focus and meditate on the promise that in John 15: 18-19 Jesus states that “I don’t belong to the world….” I belong to a great Shepherd Who is with me every step that I take. My prayer is that Mark can hear those Footsteps as he and his brother say goodbye to their dad…that the echo of His Footsteps bring comfort to the woman in the elevator reeling in unbelief and shock…..that the staff at ALL hospitals seek to walk in His Footsteps as they care for every man, woman, and child….and that everyone I meet has a “chance encounter” on a winding path of life’s experiences  with the One True Living God Who IS “our World”.