In the Fire

One of the things I miss most about a PA house we lived in was the ability to have a fire circle. It had started being a mistake, a children's pool which stayed too long in one place and the grass beneath burned out, wouldn't grow back. (My fault) So instead of a glaring mistake, we chose a glaring solution - a fire circle. 20 cinderblocks and we had perfection - our own firecircle. We were able to burn everyday without permit, and frequently when one of us got home before the other, one thoughtful chore was to prepare the ring for the evening fire. Some in the winter (not many) mostly in the other 3 seasons, but joy remembered then. Sitting in the evening with neighbors, children, or as a chance for couple time for the two of us, this fire circle touched on something in common for us - not that we are pyromaniacs, but we enjoy a good controlled burn. N. taught himself to ride a 2 wheeler bike by firelight. A. sang her first solo, T. crafted his story-teller imagination. K. learned the art of marshmallow toasting. Setting it up to last as long as needed - a 4 hour fire is constructed differently than a 1 hour fire.
This year our summer camping has included several fires, and I'm chopping wood today for this weekend. Burn, baby, burn.

"God reveals deep and hidden things; He knows what lies in darkness, and light dwells within Him." Daniel 2:22

"Weren't there three men that werre tied up and threw into the fire?" " Yes," the reply. "Look I see four men walking around in the fire, unbound and unharmed, and the forth looks like a son of the gods."
Daniel 3:24-25

In the Fire

“Another log?” A simple request.
“Yes, thank you. You’re the best!”
The fire grows and radiates heat,
Claiming this new fuel, providing retreat.
Burning for hours, it fends off the dark -
The cold, the unseen, undefined and stark
Maintaining glowing coals with their light and heat.
Closer to the fire we sit, safe, complete.

But within that fire, the action is great
In the fire, the movement changes its rate.
The fire is alive, pulsing with power,
Consuming the wood there, intent to devour
“Watch out, be careful, protect yourself there;
Keep your distance, even farther, always beware.”
Too close to the fire will be a mistake
Stay away, error brings pain, it won’t be fake.”

God is still in the fire

Life is messy – quite messy no doubt,
Hearts looking for cover, a simple way out
Of the mess of the problems bad choices have brought.
Out of the conflicts, the wrongness of thought.
“It feels all consuming, it’s hot inside here,
To confront, to correct – the problems are too near!
I must get away, I’m not needed for this!”
The knots are too tight – I just want to reminisce.”

God is still in the fire

Reminisce of a simpler time, long ago.
Protection was there, it was easy and slow.
I could think my own thoughts, no interruptions there.
All things were good, and right and fair.
People meant what they said, they said what they meant.
Trust was given, received, returned – it was cement.
Life was easy, small problems, simple solutions
Avoiding the realm of pain and confusion.

God is still in the fire

But God doesn’t stay away from the knots tightly bound,
He challenges me to step into this fire, look around.
“These knots, they’re not yours, but untie them we may.
They need our attention, yours and Mine, walk this way.
Walk in white, be pure as I call you to be.
Love me with undivided heart, you will see
That I AM in the fire, even now,
I do not abandon a conflict, I vow
To make things right, I AM here, plain to see
And I call you and move you to work patiently.

I AM still in the fire.

The power to confront, and still dignity give –
God is still in the fire.
The power to correct, a right way to live –
God is still in the fire.
“What are you gonna do about it?” God says earnestly -
“Come here, step into the fire with Me.
Set your mind on things above-
Let your conduct be worthy of Christ’s love –
You’re not alone in here, we are hand in glove.
I AM still in the fire.”

Many Hands Make Light Work

Many Hands Make Light Work

When I keep the tv on I usually enjoy a cooking channel, or PBS with greats such as Julia Child. Always some new task to be able to learn – different ways to slice a mango, how to make an angel food cake, techniques for a chewy cookie, best parings for meat and vegetables. I love it! (And if that makes me a dweeb, then I’m guilty as charged) I’m a foodie! But there is one show which just makes me sit down with my calculator and compute. $40.00 a day with Rachel Ray. Her objective is to show how affordable international travel can be, how a person can spend a measly $40.00 a day and have beautiful, filling, exquisite, gourmet banquet of food from so many parts of the world.
“$40.00 a day, my foot…I can feed my family of 6 breakfast, lunch and dinner with a bedtime snack for less than $15. That’s’ the show I want – Budget Gourmet – stretch that dollar and make it last; have your dinner , healthy and fast.”

I’ve enjoyed cooking since I was a young girl, and when I got to 7th grade, I became the dinner person for the house. Home from school, homework and dinner – my brother got other chores. Sometimes we’d have a good meal, sometimes it was more done than it should be, sometimes underdone and needed more expert attention – it was truly Culinary Chemistry. But I developed a regular list of menus, things we liked, tried and true meals to rely upon. Spaghetti and meatballs, eggs over easy and hashbrowns, baked chicken and rice, stuffed peppers. Since my brother was diabetic, there were specific ways to prepare the food, things to avoid, eliminate, other things to help include to make dinner satisfying and healthy.

When I’d have dinner at a friend’s house, I found myself swapping recipes with their mom and dad. At a large gathering, I’d be talking with the caterer, “How did you do this? Mine always gets lumpy, yours is perfect.” Me and grandmas of all shapes and sizes were like peas in a pod, talking and sharing about the preparation of food. My cookbook is a hodge podge of family, friends, neighbors, aunts, uncles, grandparents. There are regional delicacies we make and we have though we don’t live near there anymore _ pierogies – and holiday staples which help us celebrate and remember – latkes – and standards which are comforting – shepherd’s pie. (that’s for dinner tonight.)

I make an awesome cheesecake (and regretfully I have a figure that shows it! I have been perfecting more eggplant terrines and vegetable casseroles and the kids are enjoying a larger variety of veggies, more than their standards of broccoli/corn/carrots/green beans/cauliflower. ) The day I can persuade them to eat a tomato I will be proclaiming the veggie cheer with the loudest of voices! Every meal has a salad, without question, just no ‘maters on the plate. Oh well, high hopes for better days.

Here are some pictures of kitchen help…yeah the kids cook with me. T.A.N. K. all have their jobs and stations. No one is jumping up and down with enthusiasm for the dishwashing job while we are cooking, but its essential to a working kitchen – I just may need that pot again! K. is not qualified for the paring knife yet, but someday soon. She is an awesome potato peeler/carrot scrubber/salad maker. And the minimal mess they could make is clean-up-able in less than four minutes (Except for N. and his cake batter-helicopter impression. I was cleaning that off the ceiling the next day even.) They’ve been developing the pancake flip, the eggshell separation, the brulee of crème brulee (our favorite dessert), the dynamics of meringue, the variety of stir fry, the layers of lasagna, the differences between sauté and braising – its so exciting!. And they love the food they make!

Now I just need to help A. with her coffee preparation, and give her some more tips about keeping the grounds out of the brew.
Dinner’s cooking and my mouth is watering, so gotta go!

Sweetness

“Mom, I’m 42.” The voice was not familiar to me, but the information set off the alarm bells as if it was said straight to me. An afternoon away had provided our family with a chance to swim in Lake Erie at a sand beach (not easy to find in Northwest OH, most of the beaches are pebble or just plain rocks. Rough on the tender toes!) His voice, and message, caught my attention immediately. To the seat directly next to us, this mom reached into her cooler and delivered the necessary elements – juice and crackers. A diabetic child in the family…I could relate.
Earlier in the morning, Ty’s glucose level had been in the 40s as well. Everything gets put on hold and delayed as we attend to it. Quite low, he needs something sweet and something with protein. Ty has been a Type I diabetic since kindergarten and his diagnoses felt like a door got slammed on our fingers, but it was also a door opening. It opened a door to an incredible level of family health.
Now they don’t eat as many vegetables as I want them to, and they desire more twinkies than I’m going to allow, but I am pleased with my kid’s acclimation with fruit and veggies and that they’ll even let me put them on their pizza!
Our afternoon with this new friend found a chance to speak to someone “who knows” without explanation – the all night anxiety because of a accidental double injection and hourly blood checks, the rapid weight loss and unexplained weight gain which happens with insulin, the expense which happens at the grocery store when “fun food” may be more affordable but nutritionally catastrophic to a diabetic, the family adjustment which happens with feeding everyone on a diabetic diet, the penalty of an inaccurate injection, the vocabulary of ‘capillaries’ ‘A1C’ and ‘DKN’.
And we were each having our preparation session for when our diabetic boys returned to school next week. We know how sweet of disposition the boys can have, but it’s the sweetness of their blood which can drive any school official bananas! There’s so much to get ready, and truthfully, I don’t want to see them go. I know there are some who identify with me – I love getting my kids back with me for the summer. Sure it’s a hassle of time, energy and patience (let alone cleanliness and order) and any work I get accomplished comes with interruptions, but it’s a joy to me to have my children with me. Especially when it comes to helping Ty manage his diabetes. The food he eats, the exercise he gets, I know all of it. When school starts, it will be a nurse and teachers who help keep an eye of all these details, and they are responsible for so many more young ones as well.
January saw a realm of freedom for my son with the beginning of use of an insulin pump, and he has loved it since day 1. It has provided him an opportunity of discretion and control he has craved, and permitted for time fluctuations for meals and insulin delivery. It also saw an element of expertise and power for him – none of the school nurses or teachers or front office workers had ever seen or dealt with a pump before. Ty was the expert, they took their cues from him. Yesterday’s orientation has only bolstered his confidence with the new procedures he will encounter at his middle school. I love that they are excited about school and the learning environment waiting for them there.
Now, if I could only keep him from growing out of his shoes we’ll be in business. (The boy is now a ½ size larger than mine and isn’t a teenager yet. HELP)

A Divine Scope of Hope

A Divine Scope of Hope

I can’t shake it, I just feel blue.  Everyone in the family is healthy (as well as can be expected), wealthy (but then again, could always use a few more dollars, who wouldn’t?!.) and wise (some are more feather-headed than others, but that comes with the territory!)  My dearheart greets me with a kiss, sweet and affectionate, and talks with me plainly and earnestly.  Yet, I feel like I’ve been encountering bad news from every side, pressing in on my spirit, suffocating me, not releasing a situation or event before another wave crashes in, submerging my heart again.

It’s not a loss of self esteem or an undefined depression, it’s not related to hormonal changes or severe criticism but it is something which has lasted longer than usual.  Not dissolved into tears, or explosively angry, not openly pessimistic but I have detected a cynicism which is not welcome by me.   Everyone has their days, you know the ones, when you don’t quite feel like yourself.  You are able to follow through the motions of your obligations and responsibilities, but there is a lower level of passion or enthusiasm connected with what you do.  They are generally unbelievably brief for me, rarely if ever lasting more than ½ a day, but this is different.

Like Christopher Robin leafing through his storybook following the forewarning of a storm, I sing with him and Winnie the Pooh, “I’m just a little black rain cloud…”

Teachers on strike as of August 28.  The newspaper (man do I hate the newspaper anymore!) alerting us of our school administration’s negotiation breakdown with the teacher’s contract.  Strike announced since been without a teacher’s contract for a year and a freeze on the contract for three years prior.  Alert notice taken and substitutes put on call for such planned strike to take effect on school day #1.  Whattamess!  And these entities have spent the last 6 weeks refusing to talk with each other because of what they “might say” so they have spent this precious summer avoiding the important stuff of contract talks on listing agenda which will be appropriate or inappropriate to talk about.

Burial of three area servicemen who sacrificed their lives in this current war, none of them over the age of 25.  Their honor and duty has preserved my freedom - yet their time on earth was far too short, this area missing the impact of their leadership and character.

It’s a challenge to be the vein of encouragement for such a small congregation.  More people in church has its own level of encouragement.

An area youth hockey coach has been arraigned for child pornography and internet solicitation of a minor.  Several counts.  Several months in a researched sting.  He would have been my son’s coach one day in the future.

I have a heavy heart for our community and for our contact in it.  When pouring ourselves into the vessel of reaching and needy lives, I need a divine scope of hope.  Echoing the words of the psalmist David, Psalm 27:13, I say with him, “I am convinced of this - I would have given up long ago if I had not seen the Lord of hope in the land of the living.”

A divine dose of hope.  A protection from the Holy Spirit.  An inspired and loving guidance – holy hearts are requesting your strength, Lord.  Imbue us with Your hope.

The Melody

The Melody

It wraps around my heart
With silky thread,
Clinging, ever so slightly.
This melody

It spins around my memory,
Capturing brief glimpses
Of what was,
This sentimental and melancholy melody.

It moves silently,
Yet arrives and defines
Today - what is,
This impassioned and lively melody.

Its gossamer boundaries
Clouding, but not preventing my view of
What has not yet come to pass,
This hopeful yet tentative melody.

This melody from the soul,
Everywhere I turn it
Captures my attention.

If I want to be anybody,
The someone God intended;
If I’m going to be
Encapsulated within His will
I need to stay awake and pay attention.

Pay attention to this rhythm
Pay attention to this meter
Pay attention to this conversation
Of give and take,
This melody,
This blessed and sacred melody
Christ in me – the hope of glory.

jsi

Secret keepers

There are many times in our lives we find ourselves being secret keepers. For friends. Relatives. Congregation. It is an awesome responsibility to be one who carries a secret. You know the part, not to blab! There are all kinds of secrets, and sometimes we are entrusted with the opportunities to carry a burden with someone. To be a silent support, "I know that you know that I know" or to be a release valve of confidence to help provide encouragement and courage for another who will need to share their dreaded secret. Sometimes, its a secret keeping that has a time limit - "I won't say anything until this appointed time, and if you don't I will". Sometimes our secrets are incredible, some are discouraging, but all of them require us to examine ourselves and see, what do we become when we carry a secret?
Are you someone who just can't hold it in - "Don't tell me, I can't keep it", or are you able to "put it in the vault?" Are you like a little gnat fly, buzzing aound, 'I know something I can't tell" or are you a tower of strength and security?
Some secrets I can't keep - my husband always knows what he is going to get for Christmas, always, not because he found it, but because I told him. When I knew I was pregnant, it wasn't information I could keep to myself because it was so present in my eyes (tears and joy). Confidential matters need confidential hearts, not loose lips.
How are you as a secret keeper?




I
have
a secret
I can’t tell ,
Yet as time goes
I cannot help but dwell
On the hidden, unexposed
Truth that I know. It sits and
It multiplies strength as it grows.
Try to forget it, no thing brings peace!
To tell just one heart, this clamoring may cease.
But what of this unadvertised, subterranean truth
If I release private thoughts, could it be so uncouth?
To have a someone, a trusted confidant and friend help
Share the burden, to protect and defend this classified, covert
Serendipitous thing. What could I do? Who could I bring to this
Circle of confidence, trusted, subdued, who will be just as careful and
Strong and true? Who is this hero, to share, strength renew – it is you?!.

whew

The Creation of Adam

“The Creation of Adam” by artist Michaelangelo Buonarroti
This is one of the panels depicting the Genesis creation account painted in fresco in the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel by Michaelangelo. One of the most famous portraits in Western art, this view is centered upon two hands – to the right the hand of God and to the left the hand of Adam. Inspired by the medieval hymn called Veni, Creator Spiritus, Michaelangelo painted this from the lyrics, asking the “finger of the paternal right hand to give the faithful speech, love and strength.”
This panel is an artistic rendering of the Scripture, not literal, but this rendering has very powerful and symbolic meanings. But it is the hands that capture me, inspire me, hold me. The focal point of the entire panel is the near contact between the fingers of the Creator God and those of Adam. God’s reaching hand – strong, vibrant, active, muscular. Adam’s inanimate hand – weak, not alive, inactive, limp.
There are several inches between these two hands, when examining up close to the surface of the ceiling fresco, but the visual perspective a person receives when examining from the floor is that the distance is minute, miniscule, a split hair apart.
It takes my breath away to contemplate God’s creative action.
Ruach. The breath of God.
Ruach – the creative breath of God, imparted to man, his creation made in His image.“God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created them.” Genesis 1:27.
“The LORD God formed the man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostril the breath of life. (ruach). Genesis 2:7
As I transfer myself into the portrait in Adam’s place, God reaching down to me with strength and I reach up to him with weakness I comprehend my inadequacy. Anything I am able to do I because of ruach, God’s breath of life in me. My reaching to Him is inadequate, unable to bridge the full distance. But He reaches to me, covering the distance, crossing the line of separation, giving me life daily. Reaching me, finding me, saving me, keeping me. Ruach, His breath in me, transmitting His character to me, a believer who reaches for Him. I cannot be like Him without His creative action in me.
Lord, breathe in my life, transform my heart, purify my intentions, make me holy.
Just breathe.

Memories of the heart

Memory makers on vacation
Remembering everything we needed and leaving at 5:00 a.m.
Making the trip from Ohio to Maine in 1 day - first time that has happened in more than a decade!  When you don't have diapers to change, it makes such a difference. 
Fitting in a smaller size summer clothes...sorry, I need to go clothes shopping, be back later!
Swimsuits everyday, ocean and pool
Getting help with sunscreen from youngest daughter and then having crazy sunburn from spots she missed.
Sunsets on the beach with the love of my life...what did I ever do to deserve a man like him?
Painting watercolors on the beach
Old friendships revitalized, new friendships kindled
No newspapers from home
Body surfing the perfect wave
Being a mermaid on the beach, buried in sand
Sand bocce
Finishing one knitting project and beginning another - new yarn!
All the clawmeat from the lobster in one movement - it was a thing of beauty!
Tickets for Boston Red Sox/Cleveland Indians game Monday night - close game Indians ahead through the 9th and a walk off homerun from the best in the game David Ortiz!  Whattagame!
Cookie Pizza
Four part harmony congregational singing - and not being the loudest voice
Holding hands with my 11 year old son, so inspired by the man he will be.
Soccer hair for the girls, no new hair style for five days
Everyone's blond highlights make my gorgeous brunetteness look even more out of place
Happy exhaustion at the end of each day
Blue ribbon at the Monmouth Fair for 32' 4" frying pan toss - a thing of beauty
Five U2 recordings from the library for the trip - like they were singing just for me
Two perfect parking spaces in lower Manhatten - and you thought they were extinct!
Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island visit with ferry ride to the islands
Empire State building visit and being scared to death by King Kong
The perfect New York hot dog
Yankees loss
School clothes for the whole gang
A fully loaded digital camera memory card, a smile on my face and a mountain of laundry - how do I let this happen to me everytime?  And the truth is in the cliche - there is no place like home.