Blown away

Benjamin Franklin once said, “Work while it is called today,  for you know not how much you will be hindered tomorrow.  One today is worth two tomorrows; never leave that till tomorrow which you can do today.”

Unless you live in a wind tunnel like I do.

Our home sits in a little valley out here in the country and is situated mid-point on a gradual rise.  Our driveway angles up the hill from our house and the ground slopes downward behind it.  The wind, especially in the winter time, races up the valley and slams into our house – literally, we can hear it hit us and swirl around the house.

If we have a storm (rain or snow) accompanied by blustery wind, we can expect some object to go flying through our yard.  Sometimes the shingles sail off our roof, other times the patio furniture takes a nose dive off our deck.

I’ve watched a summer gust of wind lift our outdoor umbrella up from the patio table and completely out of the stand in which it was fastened, then toss it two or three times off the deck and through the back yard.  I’m not talking about tornado fierce winds either.

Since we built our home in a farmer’s field, there were no trees on our property.  We planted some here and there, but they aren’t very large yet because they were saplings when we planted them. Some of the trees are maple and they do turn a lovely color in autumn, as you can see from my photo.

Motoring up the driveway on my way to work earlier this week, I noticed that the largest tree in our front yard had dropped all of its leaves.  A substantial pile of orange-red discarded remnants lay under that tree and around the smaller trees located in our yard as well.  I thought, “Wow, this year I’m going to have to get out there and rake some leaves.”

Raking leaves is a task I haven’t done for a long time, and in a way I almost looked forward to it.  But of course I did not heed good old Ben Franklin’s advice that afternoon, even though his words are very sound wisdom.

Since I was weary when I came home from work, I instead delayed the chore for another day.  After all, I had to write my blog!  So even though the weather was nice and warm, I procrastinated.  I know, Ben would not be pleased.

The next day a weird and wacky weather system blew through our area.  I stopped at a store on my way home from work and when I departed, it was pouring rain.  No, it was a deluge of rain!  The wind was gusting wildly and ferociously, so much that sheets of rain were blowing sideways.

Running to my car in the parking lot, I got drenched, but by the time I arrived safely at home, the storm had blown out of here.   I was wet, shivering from being cold, hungry and tired, so it was definitely one of those nights to just stay inside, curled up all toasty and warm under a blanket on the sofa.

A sunny but crisp, chilly day ensued, and as I again drove up my driveway, I stopped my car and laughed out loud.   Glancing over to the tree where that pile of leaves, begging to be raked and relegated to the compost pile, had once gathered, I noticed that there were no leaves left!

I looked at the smaller tree; I checked the trees on the other side of the driveway.  Same thing, there was not one leaf anywhere in my entire two acre yard.   Every single leaf had blown completely away!  No raking for me  – one scenario where procrastinating actually worked in my favor.  Take that, Ben.

And then it dawned on me, the wind served as a reminder.  Even though the task of raking was not a daunting one, all the work had been accomplished for me by the wind.   Isn’t that just like Jesus and His grace?  We could work and toil and slave to atone for all the wrong-doings we commit in our lives.  We could try to earn our way into Heaven, but it’s not possible.

God forgives our sinful shortcomings when we submit our lives to Jesus Christ.  He enters our souls and with a fresh wind, He wipes us clean,  just as my yard had been swept clean of all those littering leaves.   Jesus already did the hardest task imaginable, He bore upon the cross each and every sin we could commit and paid the price for me, for you.

He endured and accomplished all the work, so you and I may enjoy His gift of grace (God’s Riches At Christ’s Expense).   All we need to do to accept the gift is repent, turn away from sin, and allow Christ to transform our lives.

“Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord.” ~ Acts 3:19

Have you done that?  Have you asked Jesus to blow away the rubbish in your life?  A life centered on loving and serving Him – now that blows me away!

©2010 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

The truth about cats and dogs

Yesterday I learned the truth about cats and dogs.  In a hospital waiting room.  In between bouts of trying to avoid stranger danger.  If you’re totally lost by this, read my post from yesterday.

Even though I am not a medical professional, for some reason I enjoy reading and learning about issues in the medical field.   Yesterday hubby said the doctor informed him he had some…thing…, but hubby couldn’t remember the medical term.   I supplied it for him, and sure enough when the doctor stopped by to release hubby for discharge,  I was correct.

I mentioned my interest in medical jargon to hubby and that I probably could have made a decent nurse, except for that regurgitation thing that sick people do.  Yeah, I can’t stomach seeing, hearing, or smelling someone throw up.

But that’s another story and let’s not go there or I will start gagging while I write.  Let’s just say that while raising three children, hubby was relegated to “sick duty” and my kids were forbidden to be even nauseous when their dad was away on business and we’ll leave it at that.

So by enlightening you about my fascination with all things medical, this explains why, out of all the magazines in the hospital waiting room, I would pick up WebMD magazine first to read.  There was a small sidebar article in the periodical that was entitled “Surprising Things About Dogs and Cats,” but it listed a website you needed to visit to peruse (as Paul Harvey would say) “the rest of the story.”

Of course, I plugged it into the search engine on my computer and read the article – and that’s when I learned the truth about cats and dogs.

The first thing I read, I already knew – dog kisses can make you sick.  Some people believe dogs’ mouths are cleaner than humans.  Wrong.

Now, I’m not overly fond of pooches, but they love me (click on this link “Why Do Doggies Sing Me Love Songs” to read about that). Doggies always want to jump on me and they would kiss me if I would let them, but whoa, no way am I going to allow a dog to lick my face, let alone my lips!

Experts (veterinarians) say that dogs’ mouths are “teeming with germs like salmonella, campylobacter, and cryptosporidium,” which when passed to humans’ mouths cause nasty cases of diarrhea.  A canine harbors those germs in his mouth from eating spoiled food or “when he uses his tongue as toilet paper.”

A-ha!! See right there is exactly why I would never willingly permit a dog to lick my lips! Seriously, you don’t know where that dog’s tongue has been!  Ewww.

The next fact about dogs that I already suspected is that they have a look of love.  You know that old song, “The look of love is in your eyes…”  Totally written for dogs.

The article declares that when your dog locks eyes with you it “may genuinely be a look of love, and not simply a form of begging.”  I’ve seen that look in dogs’ eyes.  Frankly, it frightens me; I don’t want to be loved by them that much.  I could accept them wanting my dinner much more readily than wanting to love me.

Since I am a cat owner, you would think I’d be more knowledgeable about those creatures than dogs, but a couple facts about cats were new to me.  Apparently, they can love too much.  This sounds very ironic because most people think these furry animals are aloof and don’t really care about humans that much.  Not true!

According to this article, animal behavior experts believe felines experience separation anxiety when they are apart from their favorite person.  They can act out, vocalize loudly, block the door when their loved one is attempting to leave, pace, vomit (oops, don’t go there), or be so worried, they can’t eat.

I know of one case in particular where this can be documented.  Oldest daughter’s kitty Jack.  He adores her.  And when she is gone, he chews her carpet, actually eating it until he throws up.  Major ewww.  Okay, there is getting to be way too much talk of throw up in this post!

Moving on quickly to the next point, cats kiss with their eyes.  Awww, isn’t that sweet?  They don’t try to lick your mouth and give you their nasty germs; they just blink at you to say,  “I love you, my human.”

At least, that’s what feline experts say.  A slow blink aimed at other kitties is a peace sign “meant to put other felines at ease.”  When they blink at a person, it shows affection, even love, so experts recommend we humans return the love by giving kitty cat a long gaze and then slowly blinking to “blow a kiss back in cat body language.”   Evidently, this works for house cats, feral cats, and even wild cats like tigers, so they say.

But if a tiger heads in my direction, I don’t think I’ll blow it a kiss by blinking at it!  I experimented with this method of demonstrating love to my adorable ball of fur last night.  She just stared at me, unblinking,  as if to say, “What the heck are you doing?”

And she didn’t blink back, no matter how many times I “kissed” her in “ze language of amour.”  I felt like the cartoon skunk Pepé LePew being rebuffed by the object of his affection, Penelope Kitty, as my own kitty turned and actually walked away from me.

Sacré bleu!  Maybe she doesn’t love me after all!

Check out the site if you’re interested:

http://pets.webmd.com/slideshow-surprising-things-about-dogs-and-cats

©2010 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Stranger than fiction

Image via freedigitalphotos.net

The things you learn in a waiting room.

Yesterday I spent a considerable amount of time in a hospital waiting room. 

Hubby was having an outpatient testing procedure done, nothing major, just one of those routine tests people of a certain age are encouraged to have.

I was thankful to hear the test results were normal, which is more than I can say about some of the people in the waiting room with me.

I’m not really sure why,  but people I don’t know usually like to strike up conversations with me.  I think there must be a sign on me somewhere that says, “Talk to me because I won’t be rude to you.”   That’s why little old men ask me for help in the grocery store and really unusual people seem to want to tell me their life history.

Sometimes they tell me things I really would not care to know even if I knew them well, ya know?  I really wasn’t interested that one of the ladies, who made eye contact with me the second I stepped into that waiting area, brought along her own container of canned milk to pour into her paper cup of waiting room coffee.  But she let me know that.

I just smiled and nodded my head and told her I don’t drink coffee when she offered me some.  It’s true I detest that beverage, but even if I were a coffee drinker, I wouldn’t use her canned milk.

I had hoped to squeeze in some good reading time while I waited for hubby.  After all, I have this new book that is causing me to think radically as a believer and I haven’t had much time lately to read it.  I also brought along some brain training (crossword puzzles) that I thought I might have a chance to finish.

But my fellow waiters kept trying to draw me into their conversations.  One lady went so far as to declare immediately upon sitting in the chair nearest me, “Well, missy, you look very nice today!”  I looked up to see if she was speaking to me, yes indeed.

I flipped through my brain rolodex with the question, “Do I know this person?”  The answer was nope, of course.  Another stranger intent on pulling me into a strange dialogue.

This woman proceeded to tell me that she was standing by her decision to have gastric by-pass surgery and all her reasons for doing it.  Seriously, what do you say to a person you do not know and probably will never see again who delivers TMI (too much information) in the first five minutes of a one-sided chat?

My first thought was to warn her that complications can be difficult with that surgery, but that would prolong the conversation.   After I shoved that thought aside, I realized what I wanted to say was, “Um…could you just keep that kind of information to yourself?  I’m trying to read here.”

But of course, I am way too polite to do that.  My mama raised me to “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”  So again, I just nodded my head and smiled and let her talk…and talk…and talk.

I think the Lord must be trying to teach me yet another lesson.  (I have so many to learn!)  Without giving you too many details lest you think I am really unkind and uncaring, let’s just say that I don’t score real high on the mercy barometer.

It’s something I recognize in myself and also something I realize I need to improve.  I would never be intentionally rude to anyone, especially someone in need, but sometimes, I just want to say, “Oh buck up and get on with life, will ya?”

So I’m supposing God keeps planting smack dab in front of me those people who need to vent, those who need someone to just lend a listening ear, and those that need to rattle on (and on!) to a sounding board that doesn’t talk back.

There are a lot of things I could have said yesterday to those strangers in that strange place, but I chose to keep my mouth shut and my ears open.  I did finally manage to read an article in a magazine lying on the table beside me in between the interruptions.  And I learned some interesting facts that I want to share with you here in my blog.

But that will have to wait until tomorrow.  I’ve got some reading to catch up on and I haven’t trained my brain in several days.  I need to just take some time, stop my busy-ness, and listen while the Lord teaches me the lessons He wants me to learn.  And I’m pretty sure it has something to do with speaking less and listening more.  Oh yes, moving that mercy thing up the barometer.

“Show me your ways, O Lord, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.” ~ Psalm 25:4-5

“My dear brothers, take note of this:  Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry.  For man’s anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires.” ~ James 1:19

©2010 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

A non-foodie raves

Image via http://www.ocarrs.com

I am not a foodie.  You know how people say they live to eat?  Well, I’m not one of them.

Instead I’m more of a “eat to live” kind of person.  But you certainly wouldn’t know it by looking at me.  I have more than my fair share of pounds packed on this little ol’ body.

Honestly, sometimes I really wonder why I’m so roundly shaped.  I’m really not that into food (okay, I do have an addiction to sugar, but I’ve even curbed that significantly) and as I’ve (ahem, shall we say) aged, my appetite has lessened considerably.

My sisters like to remind me that I am shaped like my paternal grandmother – short and stout.  Three fairly tall grandparents who were not overweight and one shaped like a butterball, and whose genes did I inherit?  Thanks, Grandma!

So I don’t believe that I’m (ahem) overweight because I overeat, since I actually don’t enjoy eating that much.  Food just doesn’t have the same appeal to me as it does for many people.  I could skip meals easily and sometimes I really just don’t feel like eating.

I’m not terribly fond of cooking either, so obviously I didn’t get the cooking/baking gene from my mother, who was amazing in the kitchen.   I’m more of a food assembler than cooking guru, although my family thinks I can present a pretty decent meal.   I don’t watch cooking shows either….can you say B-O-R-I-N-G?

But I can appreciate something tasty when it is placed before me.  And I experienced that pleasure on our trip down South.  You’re probably thinking I’m going to write about a great southern bar-be-que I ate or grits or some such Southern dish – pecan pie perhaps?  Nope.

I’m going to gush about chicken salad.  That’s right…chicken salad.  When we were visiting oldest daughter, hubby and I met her for lunch one day when she had to work.   We convened at a very small but very busy restaurant in the heart of an eclectic little area of town.

This modest nook served THE BEST chicken salad I’ve ever eaten in my life.  The restaurant is obviously well-known for this dish because I believe every person in the joint was eating chicken salad!

All three of us ordered it and we ate every last bite.  A mound of chicken salad was served on a plate with several gourmet style crackers inserted vertically in a fan-like manner.  It was not the slightly drippy, mayonnaise-laden salad that is usually served.  This was heavy on the chicken, with an oh, so delicious, slightly nutty flavor and juicy red grape slices added to it.

And then to complement the salad, an array of fresh fruit surrounded it decorating the plate with a feast for the eyes and taste buds.  There were 21 (I counted!) different kinds of fruit on my plate.  Everything from a slice of apple to a slice of mango to dried figs to pomegranate.

Pear, nectarine, plum, strawberry, kiwi, banana, grapefruit, orange, grapes, raisins to name a few….green fruit, yellow fruit, red fruit, purple fruit….I feel like a Dr. Seuss rhyme.

Truly it was enough to excite even a non-foodie like me.  I seriously want to find this restaurant’s recipe and recreate this dish.  I had a chicken salad sandwich today for lunch back here in a restaurant in my hometown and I’ll tell you, while it was good, it just didn’t compare at all.

Almost made me want to move south just to enjoy the chicken salad I ate there.  Don’t get excited, oldest daughter, I said “almost.”

©2010 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Snapshots of the South

So a picture is supposed to be worth a thousand words.  Although I’m usually full of words to write in my blog, today I don’t have time to spend trying to wrap my mind around my thoughts in a concise, coherent, and meaningful fashion.

So for today, instead of writing a thousand words, I’m posting some pictures I took on our trip down South,  simply giving you a little snapshot of our time well spent.

See if you can figure out where we ventured on our side adventures during our trip.

©2010 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

That’s [too much] Entertainment?

Image via freedigitalphotos.net

Music pulsates as the band began playing, lights flashed on, television cameras were manned, and images projected on screens throughout the massive auditorium where thousands of people regularly assemble in arena-style seats every week.

One week ago today I sat with my husband and our oldest daughter in such an auditorium.

It sounds like I’m describing a typical concert in any arena in our country, a place where throngs of people convene for entertainment’s sake.   But the building we were in wasn’t an amphitheatre, it wasn’t a concert hall, it wasn’t a stadium, it was a church – the church our oldest daughter now attends in her southern city.

Church has changed a lot since I was a kid.  When I was growing up, I attended church every Sunday dressed in my Sunday best.  Now people wear whatever they want – jeans, shorts, whatnot.  

Back then, church music consisted of organ and/or piano music with a robe-dressed choir leading the hymns.  Now many churches have the equivalent of a rock band – electric guitars, keyboard, drums, and vocalists to lead the praise part of the worship service.  Hymnals are replaced by lyrics projected on screens via power point on computers.

I suppose much of the change in the way modern churches portray themselves and conduct worship services are efforts to become more seeker-friendly, draw those people in who would ordinarily not darken the door of a church.  I totally understand that concept, what believer wouldn’t want lost souls to come to know Jesus Christ? 

And obviously, it seems to be working – non-traditional style churches are pulling in people, growing in numbers, some becoming mega churches, while more traditional churches appear to be dying.

But sometimes I wonder if contemporary churches have embraced the entertainment aspect to excess?  I read an article about this issue lately and in it, a church-goer declared he wished the worship service lasted longer because it was “like a good movie.”

I don’t know about you, but I would not compare worshiping the Creator of the universe and Savior of my soul to a good movie!  I wonder how many attendees are in church to be entertained rather than to be edified.

So with these thoughts rambling around in my mind, hubby and I attended oldest daughter’s church, one so sizable we had to arrive really early to find a parking spot in the gargantuan parking lot.   The logistics of people and cars coming and going was mind-boggling for me and frankly, I was a tad overwhelmed to see THAT MANY people in church!  (But oh, what a wonderful sight to behold!) I realized quickly that I set myself up with certain expectations about what I would witness and hear and wrongfully so.

The worship band was very good (they even have their own CD available for purchase), but at no time did I feel like I was attending a Christian band concert.  Instead there was an aura of reverence and awe for THE almighty God as we lifted our voices to Him.  A young lady offered special music – a simple but meaningfully heartfelt song – which she lifted to the Father with just her sweet voice and her guitar.

And then one of the pastors delivered the message, straight from God’s Word.  This wasn’t a “sermon light” or a good “pep talk” like my father used to say some ministers presented.  I expected the scripture passage to flash onto the screen, but instead I heard pages rustling as almost every person in that huge auditorium opened his/her own Bible.

This wasn’t just a sermon to sit passively and receive, one where you think “What am I getting out of this message?”  This was different – this was a sermon to reproduce.  Here’s what I mean by that – everywhere in that massive space, people were taking notes.  Why take notes? 

From my point of view, I take notes when I really want to remember something, not just for myself, but because I want to share it with someone else.  And isn’t that the purpose of us learning more about God’s Word?  So we can in turn explain it, teach it, share it, remind others of it.

Something amazingly different is happening in this mega-church.  The lead pastor wrote a best-selling book and I am currently in the process of reading it.  It is not typical Christian fare; instead it is one that turns our version of church and americanized faith upside down and replaces it with a more biblical version.

He desires to inspire us to thoroughly examine what we call being successful in the church and get serious about spreading the gospel of Jesus Christ.   It’s a radical way of thinking.  And I just may be getting radical.

©2010 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Mesmerizing or menacing?

Image via Yahoo.com (Photo: Dr. Paul D. Andrews, University of Dundee, Scotland)

How could something that looks so beautiful actually be something quite hideous?

Yesterday I saw this picture on Yahoo.com in an article about amazing photographs from the microscopic world.  This picture attracted me like no other published on the site.

It simply is stunning and quite beautiful to my eyes and my visual brain.  If I did not know what it was, I would describe it as a photo of gorgeous blown glass Christmas ornaments – lovely and fragile.  Or maybe a new kind of delicious wispy cotton candy – yummy to the taste with peppermint and spearmint flavors.

It is neither.  It is actually a picture of two human cancer cells as they sit next to one another prior to dividing into four cells.  As a cancer survivor, I’m unnerved that these two striking objects (if you can call cells objects) that appear mesmerizing and exquisite are actually maniacal methods of destruction.  The devastation that cancer cells wreak is mind-boggling.  Looks certainly can be deceiving, can’t they?

I don’t talk often about my experience with this dreaded disease, and at times, I’m even hesitant to call myself a cancer survivor.  I feel blessed and grateful that the type of cancer I experienced was in an early stage and treatable through surgery with a few doses of radiation for precautionary measures.

I have been cancer-free for five years now, but yet, the niggling thought that the disease may return still comes to my mind.  I’m sure that happens for most cancer survivors.

I admire the campaign for breast cancer awareness that has been promoted during the month of October, but as someone who did not have that particular kind of cancer, I feel a little left out of the hoopla.  Every day, people die of all types of cancer.  Where are the campaigns for those?

Both of my parents suffered with this devastating disease and in the end, it took both of their lives.  Neither of them had breast cancer; my mother had a vicious, fast-spreading cancer, my father had a slow-growing kind.  The cancer I was diagnosed with was yet another type of cancer.

There is no special color to wear or item to buy that will send dollars to research for the two different kinds of cancer that ran rampant through my parents, destroying their bodies and lives; nor for the cancer that tried to attack my life or for many of the other cancers that my friends have endured themselves or watched a loved one fight but eventually lose the battle.

I wonder why that is?  Maybe there should be an all-cancer awareness month, promoting screenings and research for all categories of this life-destroying illness.  What are your thoughts about this?

©2010 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Mind your P’s and Q’s

Mind your manners, please.

Manners seem to be a thing of the past nowadays.  It seems each and every day someone quite rude and devoid of manners crosses my path.

I find it disconcerting that people would have to resort to an online reference to learn proper etiquette and good behavior, but there are countless websites for that purpose.  Does that disturb anyone but me?

Why are there so many human beings out there who don’t utter the words “excuse me,” “please,” or “thank you” let alone know how to be polite and courteous?  Instead I hear vulgarity brazenly spoken and witness a host of other discourteous actions that would cause Miss Manners to suffer a heart attack.  Not only do people have little respect for others, elders or not, but they appear to also hold no respect even for themselves.

That’s why a trip south always restores my faith in the civility of the human race.  A few years ago, when oldest daughter was preparing for her move to the deep South, I traveled with her to search for an apartment.

It was my first trip that far into the South and I still recall the amazement I felt over southerners’ lovely etiquette.  Everywhere we ventured I was called “ma’am,” and people were quite kind and chivalrous.  Thank you, you’re welcome, pardon me were vocabulary words obviously spoken in everyday language.

Even on my flight back home, the twenty-something young man seated next to me on the plane sprinkled our conversation with “Yes, ma’am” and “No, ma’am.”  I finally disclosed to him that I had never been called ma’am so many times in my life as I had encountered in the two or three days I had been there.  His answer was, “Well, ma’am, here in the South, our mamas know how to raise us right.”

I will never forget that conversation and I ponder why everyone’s mama doesn’t raise her children right.  I mean what is so difficult about teaching your child to say “yes, please” or “no, thank you”?  Why is it an arduous task to open a door for someone, let another go first, or say excuse me?

I was again reminded of this when hubby and I made our recent trek into the southern states.  We were in Tennessee, stopped at a restaurant for dinner.  There was a gift shop there and we wandered around checking out the wares. While I was looking at a shelf of items, a little boy, probably about five or six, walked in front of me to get to his mama.

His grandma was behind him, and she promptly stopped him and in a firm and southern accented voice said, “What do you say?”  He was a little confused and answered questioningly, “Please?”

She then explained that he had rudely stepped in front of me and again demanded, “Now, what do you need to tell this lady?”  That time, his manners circuit connection fired up accurately, he turned to me and said quite sweetly, “Excuse me please.”

Excuse me please.  Most adults don’t even articulate that phrase, let alone kindergarten children.  And I simply will not accept the excuse that children are growing up in dysfunctional families or disadvantaged environments and that’s why they do not have decent manners or good conduct.

Oldest daughter is involved in the Big Brother/Big Sister program in her city.  She spends time encouraging a young girl who comes from a disadvantaged home.  The child’s daddy is incarcerated, and her mama makes do as best she can.  One evening we treated oldest daughter and her “little sis” to dinner out at a bar-b-que restaurant.

That child had very nice table manners.  She folded her napkin up when she was finished.  She even brushed all her crumbs to one little area in front of her.  She spoke politely and respectfully to us and she carried herself with dignity.  Her conduct was stellar and she should make her mama proud.

When we returned to her home, which was a temporary living space, she promptly thanked us for taking her to dinner.  That young lady had better social graces than most of the adults I observe, who come from middle-class or well-to-do families.

My mother used to say “mind your P’s and Q’s” to me when I was being impolite.  I’ve always wondered from where that saying was derived.  One explanation, which came from Wikipedia.com, suggests that the P is short for please and the Q for thank you, the latter of which contains a sound similar to the pronunciation of the name of the letter Q.  Parents used this phrase to educate their children in good manners and to remind them to use polite words when they spoke to others.

It all comes down to what that young Southern gentleman once told me, mamas (and daddies) out there, no matter what your situation in life is, you can raise your children right.  Let’s start with good manners, shall we?

©2010 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Have spouse, will travel

Image via freedigitalphotos.net

Picture the car loaded with these items: packed suitcases; snacks and water; books and crossword puzzles;  jackets (just in case); pillows; Mom and Dad…but no kids!

For the first time in over 28 years, my husband and I recently took a brief vacation together sans children.  Okay, I should amend that sentence; we traveled to the deep South to visit one of our grown children, so we weren’t alone for the entire trip.   But for a few days, it was just hubby and me traveling together.

When Mama’s Empty Nest was full, we always journeyed together with our children for vacations.  I can only recall a couple of times when my husband and I went away for a night without the kids.  During most of their growing up years, dear hubby traveled a lot for business.   So I always felt it important that we spend as much time as we could together as a family.  That meant always taking family vacations never taking couple vacations.

Those excursions were often trips back to our home state to visit our extended family where we would throw in some fun side expeditions for the children to enjoy.  Some times vacations were big trips like Disneyland, a week at the beach (both the Pacific Ocean and the Atlantic), historical places like Williamsburg, VA, or to cities across the country from Seattle to Saint Louis to Philadelphia.  Our kids lay claim to having visited a majority of states in this great country of ours.

So for this trek, it seemed a little odd to travel without our children along –  even though they are grown –  but we enjoyed our time together immensely.  A vacation should really be a time to relax, recharge your weary and waning batteries, and enjoy life away from the hustle and bustle.

Both hubby and I relate to the old saying, “A trip is what you take when you can’t take anymore of what you’ve been taking.”   In other words, we both needed a little rest and respite – he needed rest from the stress of his job, I needed respite away from the same old humdrum order of my life.

Roman philosopher and dramatist Seneca said, “Travel and change of place impart new vigor to the mind.”   That’s what we needed!  A change of place and new vigor!

So we decided to meander our way down south to visit oldest daughter, but take our time on the journey to and fro,  investigate sights that interested us,  or take some scenic routes away from the usual rat-race of interstate highways. And that’s exactly what we did.

I learned a few things on my restful trip with my husband.  First I learned that I love traveling in the fall.  The weather is perfect and the crowds are few.   The days were sunny, bright and warm without being too hot, and the evenings were cool and crisp.  My kind of weather.  We didn’t have to force our way through throngs of people at any of our stops.  Life seemed a little slower and less hectic than summer traveling was for us.

Secondly, I discovered that I don’t have to stick to an agenda.  Our trips in the past were always planned – arriving here and seeing this, this, and that, then traveling there to see this, do this, experience this all in non-stop motion.  For this trip, hubby and I decided to stop wherever we saw a place of interest, taking a few detours here and there because we weren’t in a big hurry to get anywhere.

We still had hotel room reservations for nightly destinations (and thanks to “frequent stayer” left over points from hubby’s traveling days, we had free accommodations at a great hotel), but in between we could meander wherever we wanted.

The third thing I realized was that if I had enough money, I would really relish being retired and doing the same kind of traveling we just experienced.  This trip gave me a little taste of something to look forward to and plan for, since we can’t retire yet.

Another thing I learned is that no matter how far from your abode you wander, you’ll see someone who reminds you of home, whether it is a retired couple from your home state who you exchange pleasantries with at a Chattanooga, TN Civil War battlefield or when you spot your children’s college alma mater license plate on a car in the Space and Rocket Center parking lot in Huntsville, AL.

And finally, I learned something about my relationship with my husband.  Before we left, I was curious about the outcome of our trip.  Would hubby and I get on each other’s nerves, disagree about what to do and see (he loves historical places especially Civil War battlefields, I grow weary of them after awhile), would we have anything to discuss during the long car rides, or would it just be strange and lonely without our kids along?

I’m happy to report that the trip was magnificent.  We actually enjoyed each other’s company and we had fun to boot!  When my husband informed me that he told a co-worker that he looked forward to this vacation, even though it was short, to just spend some time with his wife, I was so appreciative.

Doesn’t that just melt your heart?  It did mine.  After 33 years of marriage, raising three kids, the stresses of job losses and moving several times,  hubby still wants to spend time with me.

Famous American writer and wit Mark Twain said, “I have found out that there ain’t no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them.”

For me, I found out I don’t just love my husband, I like him.  And yes, I even want to travel with him – even if it’s only to a Civil War battlefield!

©2010 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Leap of Faith

The unknown lies before you, a deep chasm of uncertainty.  You teeter on the edge, undecided.  And then from somewhere deep inside, you gather the courage you need.  And you make the leap – a leap of faith.

People talk about making leaps of faith all the time – there are books, movies, and songs with the title.  You often hear Christians use that phrase or “stepping out in faith” when describing a time they fully relied on God.  One thing I know for certain, it’s way easier to talk about making a leap of faith than it is actually leaping.

Faith can be defined as an unquestionable belief or having complete trust.  In my guidebook for life, the Bible, an entire chapter in the book of Hebrews tells us about faith.  In Chapter 11:1, faith is defined this way, “Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.”

The entire chapter paints pictures of Old Testament ancients who by faith accomplished tasks God placed before them.  Leaps of faith that I claim to make can’t compare to the staggering amount of faith Noah summoned or the absolute faith Abraham possessed when commanded to sacrifice his son Isaac.  When I contrast my moments of stepping out in faith to their faith, I think my own leaps are really more like short hops.  But that still doesn’t make a leap of faith simpler, easier, or less scary.

When hubby and I decided to move back to our home state, we experienced our own “leap of faith” moment.  The circumstances were amazing; I thought that then and now over a decade later, I still think so.  After living in the Pacific Northwest for six years, the Lord taught me to be contented where He placed us.  Shortly afterwards, my husband encountered the third downsizing in his company, only this time the company was sold and he lost his job.

Our church family upheld us in fervent prayer, and God graciously provided employment with a local company.  However, the new occupation was a permanent position in that city, which meant no more relocations or moving due to promotions.  At the time, we were just extremely thankful that hubby gained employment and didn’t ponder the ramifications of remaining in the Pacific Northwest for the rest of our working lives.

One day a friend and I conversed about our parents, especially the failing health of hers.  I expressed how blessed she was that she lived near her folks and could care for them, and I remarked how living a great distance from my own aging parents and hubby’s elderly mother was difficult.  My friend bluntly asked me, “Why are you here?”  Her question stymied me for a bit, but I replied that hubby’s job was the reason.

“So?” she again prodded.  “Is that it? That’s why you’re here, a job?” Profound truth unfolded in those simple words; I contemplated it all day, stewing over her forthrightness.  I wondered why her words struck and jolted me like a lightning bolt.  Later, I reiterated my friend’s comments to my husband and asked him if we were committed to remaining where we were.  He looked astonished at my question and then acknowledged he’d been thinking over the exact same issue.

A snowball of truth became an avalanche.   As we discussed and prayed, it seemed God was showing us it was time to go home.  Knowing we wrestled with this life-changing decision, a faithful prayer warrior friend shared that she was praying we would understand God’s direction for us clearly in simple “child-like” terms.

One Sunday afternoon middle daughter started chatting about church that day.   She told me about Sunday School posters she’d seen that demonstrated how God answers prayer – one poster showed why no was the answer, one portrayed waiting for the Lord’s timing. Then she described the last poster which illustrated a little girl praying that her family could live beside her grandparents.  This time God’s answer was yes.  I almost dropped the dish I was drying!

After asking her if the posters had just been displayed that morning, she answered negatively; the posters had been there a long time.  So why did she choose to tell me about them now?  She just shrugged her shoulders.  But I knew the Lord had used a simple poster and my daughter to show us His direction.

The decision to move back to our home state was one not to be made lightly.  Our family included three children – two teenagers and a 10-year-old – and this could be a difficult change for them.  We faced so many unknowns: could my husband find a job there, could we afford to use savings to move our household all the way across the country, how long could we live on savings if he didn’t secure a job immediately, could we sell our house, would our kids adjust, were we crazy?

We were certain God’s hand led us to the decision, and that He was asking us to trust Him completely.  Not long after prayerfully making the decision to leap into the unknown, circumstances lined up unbelievably.  Job headhunters contacted my husband about employment opportunities in our home state. Our neighbors purchased our house, so we didn’t even have to list it on the real estate market.

My elderly mother-in-law’s health was making her feeble so it became very apparent she needed us.  Then my mother was diagnosed with cancer, and we knew undeniably God was calling us to move home.  One afternoon, I recall standing in my kitchen crying aloud with thankfulness, lifting my hands in praise to my all sovereign Lord because my husband had been granted a promising job interview the day after we were due to arrive back in our home state.

Hubby resigned from his job, we hired a moving company to move us across the country, and we started a journey that felt like an incredible leap of faith.  It was not an easy road.  The prospective job evaporated due to that company’s downsizing.  Hubby was unemployed for a few months, but that enabled us to spend time with his mother.  With no job, hubby was free to attend to her needs, spend time with her.  Shortly after he secured new employment, my sweet mother-in-law passed away.

Plans to build a home on my parents’ property so we would be next door to them and available when they needed us also fell apart as the ground would not pass a necessary soil test for septic purposes.  My own mother’s cancer treatments were not going well, and we received the news that her disease was terminal.  Four months after we buried my mother-in-law, I helplessly watched my dear beloved mother’s losing battle with cancer end when she passed away too.  After several more months of not finding a house to purchase, we finally found land on which to build our own home.

I am reminded that even though the saints of the Old Testament demonstrated unfailing faith as they completed God’s work, not all of them experienced immediate triumph over their circumstances.  But every one of them was blessed by God for their faith.  Hebrews 11:6 says, “And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that He exists and that He rewards those who earnestly seek Him.”

God loved and cared for my family so immensely that He carried us through our leap of faith — in both the highs and the lows — and I am so thankful.  As we leapt, no matter what happened, even when life didn’t turn out the way we hoped or planned, we knew with absolute faith that He would not let us fall.  He carried us over the chasm of uncertainty with His mighty hands, taught us all a lesson in faith, and anchored us on firm ground – the Rock of our salvation, His Son Jesus Christ.

Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “Faith is taking the first step even when you don’t see the whole staircase.”   I like that quote because I believe God not only sees the whole staircase, He designed it and planned it.  I think He expects us to take one step at a time and trust Him completely each time we take the next step and the next and the next…..

©2010 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com