Dear friends,
“Those things that hurt, instruct.” ~Benjamin Franklin
Today Pastor Dave the Humble talked to us about transformation. I think it’s something we all want – to see changes in ourselves where long held wrong ideas or wrong turnings have robbed us of some peace and freedom. In truth, the more we are transformed by the Great One, the more good we’ve got to pay forward to somebody else. But like PD said, “It’s gonna cost you…”
Sometimes we reach for transformation and sometimes it is thrust upon us. Difficult, painful circumstances often do a yeoman’s job of changing a soul. I’ve got miles to go in the need-for-changing department, but I can tell you for certain I’m not the same woman I was 8 months ago. Perhaps my perspective couldn’t have been changed any other way. I’ve told you before my theology doesn’t say God “did this to us”. But in His sovereignty He can certainly take the disasters of a fallen world and use them for good. In fact, The Book says that very thing: “He causes all things to work together for good to those that love Him.”
This evening I walked upstairs to the 7th floor at Albany Med. Many, many of you have been there. Many of you hung out long hours there just to be available to help, just to pray for Stephen and Hannah. I saw the painting of the rabbit on the wall near C7, and the Ronald McDonald room, and that bench outside the elevators where Tommy F. jr. took notes with his laptop for one of the first of these blogs before I was writing them. I was stunned by the emotions that rose up within me, and the pictures that ran through my mind like a movie. I wept uncontrollably right there in public, unable to push back what felt like the tears of a hundred years. It was shockingly present, all the sorrow, joy, love, fear...simply overwhelming. I'm not sure I can put into words my experience there tonite, or where in the world it came from. But it was powerful, and a reminder of the different person I am today from the one I was on November 7. The joy and the sorrow seemed to blend into one, like salt in the sea, stinging and refreshing at the same time. Transformed? Absolutely. Glad about it? Yes. Costly? Very.
I love you folks for a thousand reasons.
Your friend on the pilgrim road,
Loriann
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Day 243 Would Jesus Mind That Creeky Smell?
Dear friends,
It's never boring, being the mother of boys. Yesterday Joe invited 6 friends to the house for a sleepover (aka "wakeover"), and planned for all of them to sleep in the rather small "fun room" we have down in the cellar. I couldn't imagine how the heck they were all going to fit down there. Well, before the indoor activities began, the boys took a hike down into the gully beside our house. There's a creek down there, which was the scene of another Smith family story when Joe and a friend wound up in the water in March about 4 years ago. Anyway, these 7 strapping lads decided a dip would be dandy, so in they went, clothes, shoes and all. They arrived back at my home dripping, dirty and smelling like a swamp. My shower looked like a mud hole when they were done. They were talking and laughing in the basement when I woke up at 5am, and at 6:30 when I got up for my day, all was quiet. Crazy, maddening, wonderful boys.
I look at it this way: I am a blessed woman. My son hangs around with kids that don't drink or do drugs. They don't mess with other people's personal property, and they go to school every day. So swamp clothes and all nighters are small things. I'm learning the best I can not to sweat the minor things. I mean, my daughter had a brain bleed and my husband's blood pressure hit 40/20, so what if my breezeway is littered with...yucky stuff. Perspective is a marvelous thing. But the tub was still pretty disgusting...
You know that saying "what would Jesus do?" He probably would have gone swimming in the creek with them, and given them some meaningful words for the life in their difficult world. I gave them Doritos and soda, and didn't yell about the mess. Still, wish I was more like Jesus...
David John is home from camp! He had to soak in the tub (after I cleaned it!) to get the camp dirt of a week off of him. His dirty clothes smelled alot like the big boys clothing from the creek. Today is a major laundry day. When David said "I feel closer to God" after a week in the woods, it made my day. Because really, that's where true, lasting joy finds its foundation, and there are no greater riches our kids could ever have. I am amazingly, undeservedly blessed.
We take it one day at a time with our children. No one knows what will come into their experience to challenge them, delight them or give them the run of their lives. My daughter's road was not one I would have ever chosen for her. I get sad about it sometimes, and angry too, but I know she has seen, and will see "the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living." She is 8 months out on an 18 month physical road to recovery. But there is more to us than flesh and blood...
I can't control what comes into the lives of those I love, never mind my own life. But while I have breath I can, imperfectly but with passion, love them, stand with them...and wash their swampy clothes. That's after all, what Jesus would do.
Your friend on the pilgrim road,
Loriann
It's never boring, being the mother of boys. Yesterday Joe invited 6 friends to the house for a sleepover (aka "wakeover"), and planned for all of them to sleep in the rather small "fun room" we have down in the cellar. I couldn't imagine how the heck they were all going to fit down there. Well, before the indoor activities began, the boys took a hike down into the gully beside our house. There's a creek down there, which was the scene of another Smith family story when Joe and a friend wound up in the water in March about 4 years ago. Anyway, these 7 strapping lads decided a dip would be dandy, so in they went, clothes, shoes and all. They arrived back at my home dripping, dirty and smelling like a swamp. My shower looked like a mud hole when they were done. They were talking and laughing in the basement when I woke up at 5am, and at 6:30 when I got up for my day, all was quiet. Crazy, maddening, wonderful boys.
I look at it this way: I am a blessed woman. My son hangs around with kids that don't drink or do drugs. They don't mess with other people's personal property, and they go to school every day. So swamp clothes and all nighters are small things. I'm learning the best I can not to sweat the minor things. I mean, my daughter had a brain bleed and my husband's blood pressure hit 40/20, so what if my breezeway is littered with...yucky stuff. Perspective is a marvelous thing. But the tub was still pretty disgusting...
You know that saying "what would Jesus do?" He probably would have gone swimming in the creek with them, and given them some meaningful words for the life in their difficult world. I gave them Doritos and soda, and didn't yell about the mess. Still, wish I was more like Jesus...
David John is home from camp! He had to soak in the tub (after I cleaned it!) to get the camp dirt of a week off of him. His dirty clothes smelled alot like the big boys clothing from the creek. Today is a major laundry day. When David said "I feel closer to God" after a week in the woods, it made my day. Because really, that's where true, lasting joy finds its foundation, and there are no greater riches our kids could ever have. I am amazingly, undeservedly blessed.
We take it one day at a time with our children. No one knows what will come into their experience to challenge them, delight them or give them the run of their lives. My daughter's road was not one I would have ever chosen for her. I get sad about it sometimes, and angry too, but I know she has seen, and will see "the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living." She is 8 months out on an 18 month physical road to recovery. But there is more to us than flesh and blood...
I can't control what comes into the lives of those I love, never mind my own life. But while I have breath I can, imperfectly but with passion, love them, stand with them...and wash their swampy clothes. That's after all, what Jesus would do.
Your friend on the pilgrim road,
Loriann
Friday, July 9, 2010
Day 242 The Good Old Days
Dear friends,
"Reckless automobile driving arouses the suspicion that much of the horse sense of the "good old days" was possessed by the horse." Anonymous
Stephen and I took a walk in our neighborhood after dinner and met up with dear Flo, an elderly lady around the corner. She was with her friend Anna, whose husband died a few years ago, but left her with countless memories of trips all over the world and the warm blessings of a rich and meaningful relationship. Flo told us how her father was a pin setter for a bowling alley that no longer exists. (For you Delmar folks it was in the building now housed by Peter Harris). There was a feed store at the Four Corners (long gone), and a magnolia tree there that finally had to be cut down. Smitty and I revelled in their talk of "the good old days", and when I got home I wondered how I would look back on this year of my life. It made me glad to be keeping this public diary as a way to remember the thoughts and imaginings on this stretch on the pilgrim road.
Of course these past 8 months have not been "good" in the common sense of the word. Good in the language of the material world means prosperity, ease and comfort. But good from a non-material point of view can mean something entirely different. It can include the blessings of an easier road, but it goes to the heart of what really fulfills us: relationship - with God and man. And since that is the true currency of life, it is not necessary to always have things go my way. It's ok that there are struggles, and heartaches - and even disasters- because none of those things can destroy what really matters. So I believe that someday, when I'm as old as Flo (should God give me those years), I will indeed look back on these precious, beautiful, difficult times as the good old days.
At the recommendation of my much loved brother in law Tom, Smitty and I are going to begin watching the "Lost" TV series tonite. My cyber friends at the website http://www.therabbitroom.com/
seem to love this show, so we're giving it a try. Once again, the Smith's prove they are true "hobbits". I'm surprised we don't have a round front door! Friday nite, in our living room, eating a special treat and watching TV. This is the exciting life on Meadow Lane. But we love it!
For the Great One, there are no "good old days". He sees everything outside of time, in a big, eternal now. One of these days it will be the same for all those who "long for His appearing". The past, present and future will be swept up in complete redemption, with all darkness and sorrow removed forever. Those will be the good new days. Until then, we walk the highway learning and growing, and with gratitude in our hearts, holding someone else up along the way.
Like you've done for me.
Your friend on the pilgrim road,
Loriann
PS My baby comes home from camp tomorrow! Can somebody say Hallelujah! I miss my David!
"Reckless automobile driving arouses the suspicion that much of the horse sense of the "good old days" was possessed by the horse." Anonymous
Stephen and I took a walk in our neighborhood after dinner and met up with dear Flo, an elderly lady around the corner. She was with her friend Anna, whose husband died a few years ago, but left her with countless memories of trips all over the world and the warm blessings of a rich and meaningful relationship. Flo told us how her father was a pin setter for a bowling alley that no longer exists. (For you Delmar folks it was in the building now housed by Peter Harris). There was a feed store at the Four Corners (long gone), and a magnolia tree there that finally had to be cut down. Smitty and I revelled in their talk of "the good old days", and when I got home I wondered how I would look back on this year of my life. It made me glad to be keeping this public diary as a way to remember the thoughts and imaginings on this stretch on the pilgrim road.
Of course these past 8 months have not been "good" in the common sense of the word. Good in the language of the material world means prosperity, ease and comfort. But good from a non-material point of view can mean something entirely different. It can include the blessings of an easier road, but it goes to the heart of what really fulfills us: relationship - with God and man. And since that is the true currency of life, it is not necessary to always have things go my way. It's ok that there are struggles, and heartaches - and even disasters- because none of those things can destroy what really matters. So I believe that someday, when I'm as old as Flo (should God give me those years), I will indeed look back on these precious, beautiful, difficult times as the good old days.
At the recommendation of my much loved brother in law Tom, Smitty and I are going to begin watching the "Lost" TV series tonite. My cyber friends at the website http://www.therabbitroom.com/
seem to love this show, so we're giving it a try. Once again, the Smith's prove they are true "hobbits". I'm surprised we don't have a round front door! Friday nite, in our living room, eating a special treat and watching TV. This is the exciting life on Meadow Lane. But we love it!
For the Great One, there are no "good old days". He sees everything outside of time, in a big, eternal now. One of these days it will be the same for all those who "long for His appearing". The past, present and future will be swept up in complete redemption, with all darkness and sorrow removed forever. Those will be the good new days. Until then, we walk the highway learning and growing, and with gratitude in our hearts, holding someone else up along the way.
Like you've done for me.
Your friend on the pilgrim road,
Loriann
PS My baby comes home from camp tomorrow! Can somebody say Hallelujah! I miss my David!
8 months since crash
Dear friends,
At times I think I’m the push me-pull you from Dr. Dolittle. This scripture about sums it up:
“So I find this law at work: When I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God's law; but I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within my members. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God—through Jesus Christ our Lord.” Romans 7:22-25
The pilgrim road is no place for leaning back and kicking off. There’s a war going on down here, and it’s not merely physical. If oil spills and financial crisis’ and terrorist attacks don’t convince you this is a tinder box, then most likely your own struggle to do what’s right does. At least I can say so for me. My tendency to be irritable over minor things, and to make subtle, unseen judgments about people and to envy other folks are three examples just from today of the “law of sin at work within my members”. I hate seeing these ugly things in myself. But I no longer rummage around in them, feeling crummy for days on end. "Thanks be to God, through Jesus Christ our Lord" I can keep short accounts with the Great One. Repentance is the solution to self loathing. The Son of God paid a sturdy price to open the door to relationship and peace with God. To wallow in our darkness would be a tragedy, given that facing up to the thing, turning from it and getting back up to walk with God is offered by the grace of the Great Liberator. Anyway, I thought one of you dear ones might need to be reminded that you’re not alone in your battle to live a life of love. The llama’s pull both ways. But if the llama driver (is that what you would call one of those guys?) shows the way and gently pulls the rope, the push me- pull you can go in the right direction. Still, it takes a little want-to – and a healthy dose of rugged humility. Plus a watchful eye on the look-out for our shadows.
Happy, happy news! Smitty can go swimming! Bob the Builder (the brilliant Dr. Bagchi), gave the all clear signal today for pools, lakes and oceans. He also ordered an MRI of Stephen’s bad shoulder, since the blasted thing is still stuck. The medical folks will be checking for a torn rotator cuff, which Dr. B. and one of the therapists suspects. I’m hoping it’s not that. Because I think that means more surgery. To be honest, here’s how I feel: enough with the surgeries already! Of course if I get an iron clad guarantee it will help I’m all for it. HA! Guarantee. I made a funny! The only guarantee is the unending faithfulness of the Almighty in every circumstance. Anything beyond that, and we’re living in Dr. Dolittle land…
More happy news! The Smith Family Thanks You Dessert Nite has a date: Saturday, October 23 at 7pm. In the future there will be a tab on the blog to enable you to let us know you’re coming so we can make sure there are plenty of goodies for everyone. I’ll be reminding you of this festive event from time to time. Put it on your calendar now, because before you know it the crisp will be back in the air and we’ll be trading sandcastles for pumpkins. But believe me, I’m not rushing summer along. I love the summer...
You push me, I'll pull you, and together with the Great One's help, we'll finish strong on this crazy highway.
Your friend on the pilgrim road,
Loriann
At times I think I’m the push me-pull you from Dr. Dolittle. This scripture about sums it up:
“So I find this law at work: When I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God's law; but I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within my members. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God—through Jesus Christ our Lord.” Romans 7:22-25
The pilgrim road is no place for leaning back and kicking off. There’s a war going on down here, and it’s not merely physical. If oil spills and financial crisis’ and terrorist attacks don’t convince you this is a tinder box, then most likely your own struggle to do what’s right does. At least I can say so for me. My tendency to be irritable over minor things, and to make subtle, unseen judgments about people and to envy other folks are three examples just from today of the “law of sin at work within my members”. I hate seeing these ugly things in myself. But I no longer rummage around in them, feeling crummy for days on end. "Thanks be to God, through Jesus Christ our Lord" I can keep short accounts with the Great One. Repentance is the solution to self loathing. The Son of God paid a sturdy price to open the door to relationship and peace with God. To wallow in our darkness would be a tragedy, given that facing up to the thing, turning from it and getting back up to walk with God is offered by the grace of the Great Liberator. Anyway, I thought one of you dear ones might need to be reminded that you’re not alone in your battle to live a life of love. The llama’s pull both ways. But if the llama driver (is that what you would call one of those guys?) shows the way and gently pulls the rope, the push me- pull you can go in the right direction. Still, it takes a little want-to – and a healthy dose of rugged humility. Plus a watchful eye on the look-out for our shadows.
Happy, happy news! Smitty can go swimming! Bob the Builder (the brilliant Dr. Bagchi), gave the all clear signal today for pools, lakes and oceans. He also ordered an MRI of Stephen’s bad shoulder, since the blasted thing is still stuck. The medical folks will be checking for a torn rotator cuff, which Dr. B. and one of the therapists suspects. I’m hoping it’s not that. Because I think that means more surgery. To be honest, here’s how I feel: enough with the surgeries already! Of course if I get an iron clad guarantee it will help I’m all for it. HA! Guarantee. I made a funny! The only guarantee is the unending faithfulness of the Almighty in every circumstance. Anything beyond that, and we’re living in Dr. Dolittle land…
More happy news! The Smith Family Thanks You Dessert Nite has a date: Saturday, October 23 at 7pm. In the future there will be a tab on the blog to enable you to let us know you’re coming so we can make sure there are plenty of goodies for everyone. I’ll be reminding you of this festive event from time to time. Put it on your calendar now, because before you know it the crisp will be back in the air and we’ll be trading sandcastles for pumpkins. But believe me, I’m not rushing summer along. I love the summer...
You push me, I'll pull you, and together with the Great One's help, we'll finish strong on this crazy highway.
Your friend on the pilgrim road,
Loriann
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Day 240 The Great One Interrupts Like Mary Poppins
Dear friends,
"We cannot control the wind, but we can adjust the sail." I love that. Love it. Life in the Smith house is just like it is in yours; ever changing, unpredictable, wild at heart. Like the father in Mary Poppins, we would like our nice, neat, orderly little lives. But the truth is, it doesn't really go that way. Ms. Poppins sticks her foot in the door and reveals what was really fouled up all along. If we're growing, then there's a wind a blowing. Best to adjust the sail, and go where the Great One leads. Best to find the peace within the storm, because even if it's relatively calm there are clouds in the offing... By the way, if you've never seen Mary Poppins, get thee to Amazon.com and order yourself up a copy. I could write a book of analogies from that movie, but I'll spare you. I want to BE Mary Poppins. Especially when she goes into the cartoon with Bert. But I digress...
Since November 8 we have some added complications we could not have foreseen. But underneath all that, we still have to do the laundry, make meals, clean the bathroom, feed the cats, and care for our children (which thanks to you, we didn't have to do when it was impossible). What I love about God (among many beautiful things) is His heart to be with us in all our affairs. While we load the dishwasher, or fix the bike chain, or mix up the pasta salad, He is there in the midst of it. As present as He was when Stephen's BP dropped to 40/20 in the ER, as near as He was when Hannah's eye was stitched by plastic surgeons after her orbital bone plate was put in. Given that He is involved in the everyday stuff, I thought you might enjoy a little "laundry list" of simple things here at home.
WHAT'S UP WITH THE SMITH'S?
Weather outside: Hot, and you'll never hear me complain about it! But I'm grateful for the AC in the bedrooms.
Food for thought: Made a delicious pasta salad for dinner. Smitty wanted way more pepperoni in the mix.
Children: David at Camp (miss that boy!), Hannah swimming with a friend earlier, eating chocolate ice cream; Joe needs steel toed shoes for a job he starts next week.
What I'm awash in: Tiny teacups I will no longer leave out since I'm on a clutter clearing rampage.
Music in my Head: "He Aint Heavy, He's My Brother".
The ponderings: Thinking about Saul's fall from humility and subsequent consequences. Creating a website. Wondering why my basil wilted in the refrigerator. (Actually, I'm thinking about a million things, so I had to pick the top three. Number 4 would be that fellow who fell out of the stands trying to catch a foul ball...)
Enjoy the Great One in the every day. He'll be there in the big stuff. And the little.
Your friend on the pilgrim road,
Loriann
"We cannot control the wind, but we can adjust the sail." I love that. Love it. Life in the Smith house is just like it is in yours; ever changing, unpredictable, wild at heart. Like the father in Mary Poppins, we would like our nice, neat, orderly little lives. But the truth is, it doesn't really go that way. Ms. Poppins sticks her foot in the door and reveals what was really fouled up all along. If we're growing, then there's a wind a blowing. Best to adjust the sail, and go where the Great One leads. Best to find the peace within the storm, because even if it's relatively calm there are clouds in the offing... By the way, if you've never seen Mary Poppins, get thee to Amazon.com and order yourself up a copy. I could write a book of analogies from that movie, but I'll spare you. I want to BE Mary Poppins. Especially when she goes into the cartoon with Bert. But I digress...
Since November 8 we have some added complications we could not have foreseen. But underneath all that, we still have to do the laundry, make meals, clean the bathroom, feed the cats, and care for our children (which thanks to you, we didn't have to do when it was impossible). What I love about God (among many beautiful things) is His heart to be with us in all our affairs. While we load the dishwasher, or fix the bike chain, or mix up the pasta salad, He is there in the midst of it. As present as He was when Stephen's BP dropped to 40/20 in the ER, as near as He was when Hannah's eye was stitched by plastic surgeons after her orbital bone plate was put in. Given that He is involved in the everyday stuff, I thought you might enjoy a little "laundry list" of simple things here at home.
WHAT'S UP WITH THE SMITH'S?
Weather outside: Hot, and you'll never hear me complain about it! But I'm grateful for the AC in the bedrooms.
Food for thought: Made a delicious pasta salad for dinner. Smitty wanted way more pepperoni in the mix.
Children: David at Camp (miss that boy!), Hannah swimming with a friend earlier, eating chocolate ice cream; Joe needs steel toed shoes for a job he starts next week.
What I'm awash in: Tiny teacups I will no longer leave out since I'm on a clutter clearing rampage.
Music in my Head: "He Aint Heavy, He's My Brother".
Books I'm reading: True Spiritual Community by Larry Crabb, Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain, The Bible- Book of 1st Samuel.
The ponderings: Thinking about Saul's fall from humility and subsequent consequences. Creating a website. Wondering why my basil wilted in the refrigerator. (Actually, I'm thinking about a million things, so I had to pick the top three. Number 4 would be that fellow who fell out of the stands trying to catch a foul ball...)
Enjoy the Great One in the every day. He'll be there in the big stuff. And the little.
Your friend on the pilgrim road,
Loriann
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Day 239 Only Passing Through- So How About the Beach?
Dear friends,
Ever been in the car just about all day? Ever felt like a taxi driver? Ever think you had all the paperwork you needed, only to find out you didn't? That was my day today. Then, when I got to the hospital, we were short staffed so...no dinner break. Instead, there was the shoveling down of the sandwich at the desk. Time was my enemy all day long. There wasn't enough of it. Everything was stuffed into it. And I was reminded once again, for the thousandth time, that this world is not my home, I'm only passin' through. Makes you pine for a long, unscheduled day at the beach...
Smitty goes to Dr. Bagchi's office on Thursday. Please pray the guy will be cleared to go swimming! This is no time to be kept out of a pool! Stephen continues to have a bit of trouble with walking normally. (But I bet he'll swim like Mr. Limpet!) The cane helps, but the other day I told him he was walking like Frankenstein. His body simply won't do things the way it should. I'll tell you though, you'll never hear a peep out of him. He trucks along with dignity. Some days the limitations really stink. But the world is not his home, he's only passin' through.
I'm dreaming a bit about Cape Cod these days. The foamy, icy surf under my feet, the sand between my toes, the smell of the bayberry, the sound of the waves... The ocean is a place I feel the presence of God in a unique way. There's a frightening aspect to the sea - big, powerful, relentless. Then there is the rhythm of the tides, and the sounds of people enjoying the controlled risk of manageable surf. Salt in your hair, salt in your eyes, salt in your mouth! Windburn and sunburn, and that glorious, chilly feeling that comes when the sun gets low and you need your sweatshirt over your bathing suit. Even on cloudy days, the ocean is glorious in its grayness, soulful and just a little sad, grabbing hold of the melancholy part of me and reminding me this world is not my home, I'm only passin' through. I love the sea. But only from the shore.
"For whatever we lose, like a you or a me,
it's always ourselves we find in the sea." ee cummings
If you're hankerin' for a little cyber ocean, check out http://www.morebeach.com/coast-guard-beach-cam.html
Next year, we will have the Smith Family Celebrate Life vacation. Since Miss Rejoice took such a large hit in this jumble, we asked her preference for a special destination. My boys aren't picky. Their bags are packed to go wherever, whenever. But we couldn't get anything out of the girl. We have really always had modest vacations; a week at the Cape, and once we did the Disney thing in September with a free meal plan! So we're not exactly world travelers in our house. While she thought about it, I prayed to the Great One. "Anything but a cruise" said I. I love the sea. But only from the shore. So at this point you know the punchline. She wants to go on a cruise. Good gravy. I don't like boats. I spent a year one day on a whale watch with my head over the side while my husband chowed down on clam chowder. But I would go to the moon for that child if that's what she wants. So I will board the ship and remind myself all the way "this world is not my home, I'm only passin' through."
So glad to be passin' through with all of you!
Your friend on the pilgrim road,
Loriann
Prayers please for Pastor Greg the Wonder, whose dear father had a heart attack. And for Melanie and the kids back home. And the team he had to leave behind in NYC. One life effects so many...
Ever been in the car just about all day? Ever felt like a taxi driver? Ever think you had all the paperwork you needed, only to find out you didn't? That was my day today. Then, when I got to the hospital, we were short staffed so...no dinner break. Instead, there was the shoveling down of the sandwich at the desk. Time was my enemy all day long. There wasn't enough of it. Everything was stuffed into it. And I was reminded once again, for the thousandth time, that this world is not my home, I'm only passin' through. Makes you pine for a long, unscheduled day at the beach...
Smitty goes to Dr. Bagchi's office on Thursday. Please pray the guy will be cleared to go swimming! This is no time to be kept out of a pool! Stephen continues to have a bit of trouble with walking normally. (But I bet he'll swim like Mr. Limpet!) The cane helps, but the other day I told him he was walking like Frankenstein. His body simply won't do things the way it should. I'll tell you though, you'll never hear a peep out of him. He trucks along with dignity. Some days the limitations really stink. But the world is not his home, he's only passin' through.
I'm dreaming a bit about Cape Cod these days. The foamy, icy surf under my feet, the sand between my toes, the smell of the bayberry, the sound of the waves... The ocean is a place I feel the presence of God in a unique way. There's a frightening aspect to the sea - big, powerful, relentless. Then there is the rhythm of the tides, and the sounds of people enjoying the controlled risk of manageable surf. Salt in your hair, salt in your eyes, salt in your mouth! Windburn and sunburn, and that glorious, chilly feeling that comes when the sun gets low and you need your sweatshirt over your bathing suit. Even on cloudy days, the ocean is glorious in its grayness, soulful and just a little sad, grabbing hold of the melancholy part of me and reminding me this world is not my home, I'm only passin' through. I love the sea. But only from the shore.
"For whatever we lose, like a you or a me,
it's always ourselves we find in the sea." ee cummings
If you're hankerin' for a little cyber ocean, check out http://www.morebeach.com/coast-guard-beach-cam.html
Next year, we will have the Smith Family Celebrate Life vacation. Since Miss Rejoice took such a large hit in this jumble, we asked her preference for a special destination. My boys aren't picky. Their bags are packed to go wherever, whenever. But we couldn't get anything out of the girl. We have really always had modest vacations; a week at the Cape, and once we did the Disney thing in September with a free meal plan! So we're not exactly world travelers in our house. While she thought about it, I prayed to the Great One. "Anything but a cruise" said I. I love the sea. But only from the shore. So at this point you know the punchline. She wants to go on a cruise. Good gravy. I don't like boats. I spent a year one day on a whale watch with my head over the side while my husband chowed down on clam chowder. But I would go to the moon for that child if that's what she wants. So I will board the ship and remind myself all the way "this world is not my home, I'm only passin' through."
So glad to be passin' through with all of you!
Your friend on the pilgrim road,
Loriann
Prayers please for Pastor Greg the Wonder, whose dear father had a heart attack. And for Melanie and the kids back home. And the team he had to leave behind in NYC. One life effects so many...
Monday, July 5, 2010
Day 238 Writing and Hearing, In the Heat and the Chill
Dear friends,
You'll never hear me complain about the heat. I reserve the right to moan and groan about the cold, so I figure at least I can be quiet (regarding the weather only!) in the summertime. The Northeastern winters are so long, and the summers so brief. When I open my door and it feels like walking into a pizzeria, I don't mind. It won't last. Before I know it the AC will be coming out of the windows and the electric blanket will go back on the bed. Time hurtles by. I'm in no rush to speed it up. Except in February. Good grief, that is one long month.
Now to the subject of the day. Before the events that brought this blog into existence I did not write every day. I really believed (and continue to), that the Great One wants me to keep pecking away on this keyboard every day until November 8, 2010. Now hearing God right can be a bit sticky. Goodness knows folks of much greater faith than me have gotten it wrong when trying to discern the will of God. Hearing God's voice takes time, faith and quiet. I mean, it's not a big voice from the sky, booming and unmistakable. I've never heard God talk in an audible voice. But the One and Only is a communicator, and at times we have to sort out what He means for us to do as best we can, and trust Him to clear away the obstacles, most of which come from within us. Fear, pride, distraction - and many other boulders can block the way. I'm still figuring this thing out as I go, so there are no great words of wisdom here. Only encouragement to say if we really are sincere in our efforts to do what we believe God wants, He'll take us there, step by step. And of course we do have the Map... a written guide that helps tremendously when the Holy Spirit is in the driver's seat. Anyway, I write every nite, and am so overjoyed by the people who still read these ramblings. But I say at the risk of sounding ungrateful (which I am not!), that I will continue to write until November 8th, whether anyone reads or not. This blog is a testament not to me or my family, but to God, and to all of you, who continue to be our dear companions through the hardest thing I have ever faced. That the Great One considers this story worth putting on paper is enough for me. And like I've said before, it's way cheaper than therapy!
All of you have something to tell. Some write it, some sing it, some build it, some say it: there are a gazillion stories worth expressing. We all need to muddle through and find what God has for each of us to communicate, whether we preach it in a sermon, or shine it with a rag, or bake it in a cake. There are a world of people who need our little light to help find their own way. And there's no getting too proud about it, because "every good and perfect gift comes from the Father...".
Every evening when I sit down to write to you, I ask God to help me. Some nights I have no idea what I'm going to say. But that's the great thing about doing what you think He wants you to do - He'll never leave you in the lurch. Like I've said, I'm not looking for a Pulitzer Prize. I only want to tell the truth.
The Smith's continue to heal and grow. November's chill has given way to July's balm. In more ways than one.
Your friend on the pilgrim road,
Loriann
You'll never hear me complain about the heat. I reserve the right to moan and groan about the cold, so I figure at least I can be quiet (regarding the weather only!) in the summertime. The Northeastern winters are so long, and the summers so brief. When I open my door and it feels like walking into a pizzeria, I don't mind. It won't last. Before I know it the AC will be coming out of the windows and the electric blanket will go back on the bed. Time hurtles by. I'm in no rush to speed it up. Except in February. Good grief, that is one long month.
Now to the subject of the day. Before the events that brought this blog into existence I did not write every day. I really believed (and continue to), that the Great One wants me to keep pecking away on this keyboard every day until November 8, 2010. Now hearing God right can be a bit sticky. Goodness knows folks of much greater faith than me have gotten it wrong when trying to discern the will of God. Hearing God's voice takes time, faith and quiet. I mean, it's not a big voice from the sky, booming and unmistakable. I've never heard God talk in an audible voice. But the One and Only is a communicator, and at times we have to sort out what He means for us to do as best we can, and trust Him to clear away the obstacles, most of which come from within us. Fear, pride, distraction - and many other boulders can block the way. I'm still figuring this thing out as I go, so there are no great words of wisdom here. Only encouragement to say if we really are sincere in our efforts to do what we believe God wants, He'll take us there, step by step. And of course we do have the Map... a written guide that helps tremendously when the Holy Spirit is in the driver's seat. Anyway, I write every nite, and am so overjoyed by the people who still read these ramblings. But I say at the risk of sounding ungrateful (which I am not!), that I will continue to write until November 8th, whether anyone reads or not. This blog is a testament not to me or my family, but to God, and to all of you, who continue to be our dear companions through the hardest thing I have ever faced. That the Great One considers this story worth putting on paper is enough for me. And like I've said before, it's way cheaper than therapy!
All of you have something to tell. Some write it, some sing it, some build it, some say it: there are a gazillion stories worth expressing. We all need to muddle through and find what God has for each of us to communicate, whether we preach it in a sermon, or shine it with a rag, or bake it in a cake. There are a world of people who need our little light to help find their own way. And there's no getting too proud about it, because "every good and perfect gift comes from the Father...".
Every evening when I sit down to write to you, I ask God to help me. Some nights I have no idea what I'm going to say. But that's the great thing about doing what you think He wants you to do - He'll never leave you in the lurch. Like I've said, I'm not looking for a Pulitzer Prize. I only want to tell the truth.
The Smith's continue to heal and grow. November's chill has given way to July's balm. In more ways than one.
Your friend on the pilgrim road,
Loriann
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