No flight plan, Part 1

Airline tickets for $39.  That ad attracted my attention for about a nano-second.

I used to love to travel by plane; now I’d rather pull out my own toenails.  In the past, I thought there was no better way to travel than flying.

Jump on an airplane on one coast of the country, be on the other coast in six hours, as opposed to driving for six days? No better way to go, I used to think.  I know because I’ve done both.

Flying used to be enjoyable, an adventure I willingly embarked upon even with three small children in tow.  I loved the sensation of lifting off into the air, peering out jet windows to catch glimpses of wispy, cotton candy clouds floating beside me, observing the patchwork of fields, mountain tops, or rambling threads of rivers and roads beneath us thousands of feet down.  Equally enthralling was catching the breath-taking view of a city all aglow in brilliant lights outlined in the dark of an inky black night sky.  Glorious.

Landing thrilled me even more!  I loved the sensation of gradually making the descent, feeling your ears pop, watching the ground get closer, closer, closer until you felt the bump of the plane’s tires touching down.  Then came the amazing part for me….flying on the ground, traveling at such a high rate of speed you wondered if the plane would ever be able to stop, but finally brakes grabbed hold and the plane came to a halt.  Exhilarating!

For certain, flying used to be fun.  Now I’d rather avoid it at all costs.  Unless there’s a dire emergency, you’d have to pay me to fly.  I’m not afraid of flying; instead I fear and loathe everything prior to and in between the actual flights.

“If God had really intended men to fly, he’d make it easier to get to the airport,” someone named George Winters apparently once said.  Well, Mr. Winters, times have changed.  Now I believe it’s actually easier getting to the airport than it is getting through the airport.

I understand the necessity for security; really in today’s unsafe world, I get that.  But given the choice, after my last flying experience, I’m done with that mode of transportation.

My last venture by airplane occurred before the rash of outrageously crazy TSA screening stories that you watch on internet videos or hear about from a neighbor.  You know, the ones about 3-year-olds getting stripped and frisked and people having to remove prosthetics or endure some humiliating ordeal.

Flying just isn’t in my plans; I don’t care how low air fares drop.  I’ve got my own crazy story which sealed the deal when it comes to my disdain for air travel, and I haven’t flown since then.   A few years ago, I flew south with oldest daughter for a weekend.  Her career necessitated a move there, and we embarked on an apartment finding quest.

Our flight departed late in the day, so we had no time for dinner.  The only sustenance we received on our short flight to our next lay-over was a glass of water.  No individual bottle of water.  The flight attendant rolled down the aisle with a large communal bottle from which she poured water into a plastic cup for those of us thirsty travelers.  No food, of course – not even a tiny little bag of peanuts.

We ran to our next flight at our layover.  Again no time for food; and again, no food on the plane.  Arriving at our destination close to midnight, we were starving when we checked into our downtown hotel, where the only hot meal we could find was a vending machine Hot Pocket warmed up in a microwave.

Our trip on the ground was successful – she found a great apartment, we explored the city a bit, enjoyed our meals and one delight for me was sipping Southern sweet tea.

Because of all the waiting in line necessary for security screening and because we needed to turn in our rental car, we arrived at the airport very early Sunday morning for the airline’s first flight out to our home destination.  That Sunday unfolded as one of the longest days of my life!

And that story will unfold on tomorrow’s blog.   I’m tired just thinking about it on this 12^th page of Chapter 4 in my Opportunity book.

©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Such stuff as dreams are made of

I have a feeling my middle daughter had a tough time falling asleep last night.

I’m pretty certain she was too excited, wound up, happy, thrilled – the list could continue until I run out of adjectives – to let the Sandman visit her.

Why?  I’ll let Dr. Seuss explain: “When you are in love you can’t fall asleep because reality is better than your dreams.”

Yesterday, my middle daughter’s dream became reality.  That grown up young woman of 25, who has her own place, career and life but in my mind is still my joyful little girl, experienced a monumental day.

Her daddy and I wonder how all those years vaporized away so swiftly.  How did we get to this empty nest stage when just yesterday (or so it seems) our house was full of youngsters and toys and noise?  We blinked and our children became adults.

And now one of them is taking an even deeper step into adulthood.  Our daughter became engaged yesterday!

The engagement wasn’t a surprise for us because her beloved one had already visited alone to formally ask for our daughter’s hand in marriage and our blessing before he even purchased the ring.   Yes, he’s THAT wonderful!

We could tell he had spent much time in thought and prayer about this decision and he willingly shared his plan for how he would provide for their future together.

So after the blessing was given, he bought the ring and kept all of that a secret from her until yesterday when he proposed at one of their favorite outdoor spots.   Daughter thought they were going to be models for a friend’s photography session there, so the proposal is caught on film for us to see.

A lot of emotions are swirling around in my heart and mind.  Joy.  For certain!  Excitement.  Definitely!  Happiness.  For her and him, the betrothed, and for both of our families!  He already has fit into our family so well.  (Gasp! I’m going to be a mother-in-law!!)  She will be a sweet addition to his family. (Gasp! My daughter will have a mother-in-law!!)

But there’s just a tiny hint of melancholy floating around my heart too because my little girl really IS grown up, ready to embark on a life together with her beloved one.

And that is exactly how it should be according to my guidebook, the Bible:  “Haven’t you read,” he replied, “that at the beginning the Creator ‘made them male and female,’ and said, ‘For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh’? So they are no longer two, but one.  Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.” ~ Matthew 19:4-6

Woven into my tapestry of joy today on Page 9, Chapter 4, in my book of Opportunity is a tiny thread of melancholy as we begin another life journey, preparing for our daughter’s marriage.  We have more than a year to work on it though.

And I’m gaining another son!  And the possibility of grandchildren!  So I know the threads of joy will crowd out and overlap that twinge.  But for now, I think I’ll go have a good cry.

©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

Mama goes crazy, but not THAT crazy!

Today my daughters thought their Mom had finally gone dotty.

Chalk it up to the looong winter weather, the lack of color in my world, or the lack of excitement in my hum-dum empty nest Mama life, I don’t know, but I did go a little crazy today.   Let me explain.

I had a hair appointment for a cut and color with my sweet and vibrant hairdresser.  She’s a 20-something around the same age as my daughters, knows my entire family, and we enjoy chatting as she snips away at my overgrown hair.

She and her husband have the most adorable nine month old baby boy and I get to hear his latest accomplishments (he took his first step the other day!).

On my way to the appointment, I was thinking about how I needed a change….somewhere…somehow.  So I thought, well, I could change my hair.  I’ve been known to grow weary of the same old, same old when it comes to hair styles, and I’ve had the same “do” for a couple of years now.

My hairdresser was a little surprised when I cautiously told her that I thought I was due for a change.  We discussed some options and she got very excited!  When my gal turned my chair around to the mirror, she was anxious to see my reaction.

And I liked it!  I really liked it!  It was bouncy and just a little sassy for a change.  So I came home with my usual color, but a few caramel highlights interspersed here and there and a shorter and slightly altered style.

Then I did what any 50-something bored empty nest Mama would do when she is thrilled about a new look for herself.  I took a picture by cell phone of my new hair and picture messaged it to my two daughters.  A flurry of text messages ensued.   The following are the actual messages with my thoughts noted in (italic parenthesis):

Me:  What do you think of my new hair? (They are going to be so surprised!)

Oldest Daughter: Is it…..purple?!?  (Mother, are you insane?)

Middle Daughter:  Um..what color is that? (Before I declare you crazy, I’ll just check to make sure first.)

Me to Oldest Daughter:  Purple?!?!?? Heck no!!!  (What?  Do they think I finally went over the edge?)

Me to Middle Daughter:  Your sister thought it was purple!! It is definitely NOT.  It’s actually the same color as always but with caramel highlights and a little different cut.   (Seriously, now why would they think I dyed my hair purple??)

Oldest Daughter:  Ha ha ha, the picture makes it look purple!!  As long as it’s not purple, I like it! (So, if mom dyed her hair purple, oldest daughter would obviously disapprove!)

Me to Oldest Daughter:  No, it’s definitely not purple!! Caramel highlights and cut a little differently.

Middle Daughter:  It totally looks purple in the picture. I’m sure it looks so much better in person.  (Middle Daughter is ever the peace-maker, the mediator.)

Me to both girls:  (Sending another picture – a close up) This better?

Oldest Daughter: (after viewing the latest picture message)  It looks good, I like it.   (Only because it’s not purple!) Yep, definitely less purple in that pic, haha.  (Oh, see Mom, I’m laughing…it was just a joke. I don’t really think you’re nuts!)

Middle Daughter: Yes.  Very nice.  What made you decide to do that? (Code for “Mother, even though your hair is not purple, have you lost your mind?”)

So on this seventh page of Chapter 4 in my book of Opportunity, I can admit that I’m a little bit happy with my new look and amused a lot at my daughters’ responses.

Ha-ha, girls, you didn’t think your old empty nest Mama could still pull off a few surprises, did you?  Wonder what I would look like with purple hair??

©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

America the Beautiful??

I don’t know how beautiful America is in your area of the country, but where I live, it’s not looking very beautiful.

Maybe if you only gaze up at the “spacious skies” you see beauty but I wouldn’t recommend looking by the side of the road.

I’m talking trash today.  No, I’m not trash talking about my country.  I’m talking about the trash that my fellow countrymen fling out their car windows.

I’m disgusted at the trash that lines the highways and bi-ways of my area of the country and from a little research online, it appears this is an unsightly and costly problem all over the United States.  Transportation departments across the country spend millions of tax dollars and countless hours each year picking up litter.  I wonder why we have become a nation of lazy, slovenly slobs and why we don’t have enough pride to keep our countryside and cities clean.

On my travels today, I couldn’t help but notice the outrageous amount of litter carelessly tossed beside the highway.   I don’t think I saw one stretch of roadside that didn’t have garbage strewn everywhere  – water bottles, soda pop cans, beer cans, paper, coffee cups, fast food wrappers, plastic jugs, newspapers, plastic bags, cardboard, Styrofoam, even articles of clothing!

The litter list was endless and it didn’t matter if I was on a four-lane highway or a two-lane country road.   The more I viewed the trash trail, the angrier I became, and then I came home and found other people’s refuse thrown into my own yard.

Grrr!  You may not care about your yard, buddy, but I don’t want your beer cans dumped in mine!   There is so much litter accumulated across from our driveway that hubby and I will have to fill up several garbage bags just so we don’t have to look at it.

When I was a kid, my parents wouldn’t even let me throw a piece of chewed gum out the car window.   Even in school we learned “Don’t be a litterbug!”  Now everyone – including adults who should know better – uses the berm of our roads as their own personal waste can.

So I’m addressing the people who trash toss.  Why are you too lazy to carry your own trash home with you and dump it in your own garbage can?  Or why don’t you find a public garbage can – located in most shopping centers or outside most stores – in which to discard your Big Gulp cup?

Why do you think the rest of us want to see miles and miles of discarded refuse along the side of the road?  Why don’t you care enough about the beauty of our country to clean up after yourself?  If you want to live like a pig, that’s your business, but please take your trash home to your own pig sty.

To me, it’s a matter of respect.  Respect for the beauty of our country, respect for other people and yes, even respect for yourself.   That kind of respect doesn’t seem to exist.  Children aren’t learning it and they sure are not seeing it modeled by the adults in their lives.  Especially when you whip that empty Happy Meal carton out the van window, Mom and Dad!

I admire those who “adopt a highway” for clean-up; hubby’s civic organization is one group that cleans up a local roadway three times a year.  And believe me, there’s never an absence of trash for pick up!  Armed with garbage bags galore, these volunteers don work gloves and walk the line beside our roads picking up the trash that others thoughtlessly throw away.  That’s right, Mr. and Ms. Litterer, they pick up after you because you won’t pick up after yourself.

“America the Beautiful” has become America the trashed.  Our amber waves of grain are infiltrated with garbage.  Those purple mountain majesties have refuse up and down the roads that lead to them.   Our alabaster cities no longer gleam because litter lines the streets and sidewalks.

So what can you do?  Here are just a couple of suggestions:

• Set an example for others, especially children, by not littering.
• Carry a litter bag in your car and dispose of it properly, in your own garbage can.
• Make sure outdoor trash cans have lids that can be securely fastened so your trash doesn’t blow all over the neighborhood.
• If you or your family members belong to a civic organization, church group, scouting or recreational sports teams, encourage your group to “adopt a highway” and maintain it on a regular basis.  Or your own family could “adopt a highway.”

Today in Chapter 4, Page 5 (April 5) in my book of Opportunity (2011), we can all do our part to keep America beautiful and be the kind of citizens “who more than self their country loved.”

©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

When steps turn into footprints, Part 2

What do my footprints reveal?  What legacy do they leave behind me?

Today in my book of Opportunity, Chapter 4, Page 3, I’m examining my footprints and hopefully encouraging you to do the same.  (Please read Part 1, yesterday’s post, if you haven’t already done so.)

As a believer in Christ Jesus, the answers to the questions above  are important to me, so I turn to my guidebook for life, the Bible.

Above all else, I strive to follow the commandments Jesus gave us in Mark 12:30-31: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.  The second is this: Love your neighbor as yourself.  There is no commandment greater than these.”

Following those commandments means watching where I go, being mindful of my words,  actions and how I treat my fellow human beings.   My life should be a living example of sacrifice to the One I call Lord.

I think Jesus warns us to watch where our feet take us in Matthew, Chapter 18, verse 5-7 – “But if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a large millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea.  Woe to the world because of the things that cause people to sin!”

He continues, “If your hand or your foot causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away.” In other words, be aware of the footprints you leave behind because they influence others.  Are you leading others to Jesus with words and deeds of encouragement or do you tear down others leading them (and you) into sin?

I sometimes wonder if those of us who call ourselves Christians really understand the influence we have on those around us.   I don’t think we realize how important it is to not cause another person to sin.

We seem to think if we spout off scripture or Christian-ese to people, that’s all we need to do to lead others to Christ.  But I think our actions do speak so much louder than our words, and where our feet have led us speaks volumes because others watch how we lead our lives.  They see our footprints!

Our footprints show where we’ve been (in sin). King David wrote in Psalm 69:1-3: “Save me, O God, for the waters have come up to my neck.  I sink in the miry depths, where there is no foothold.  I have come into the deep waters; the floods engulf me.” David reveals his feet led him into distress, to a place where he was in over his head, and he needed rescued by God.  Isn’t that like those sinful places our own footprints have come from?

Hopefully, believers’ footprints show that we left our own miry depths of sin and came to Christ, where we find our redemption.  Once we make Jesus the Lord of our lives, our constant prayer should be like David’s prayer: “Direct my footsteps according to your word; let no sin rule over me,” in Psalm 119:133.  The Apostle Paul also warned us to be diligent in Ephesians 4:27, “…and do not give the devil a foothold.” (Or allow him to lead us astray!)

We can have confidence (faith) that the Lord does watch over us and as we ask for His help in guiding our feet, “He will not let your foot slip – he who watches over you will not slumber….the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.” ~ Psalm 121:3-8

Pastor Charles Stanley stated this truth eloquently when he wrote, “As you walk through the valley of the unknown, you will find the footprints of Jesus both in front of you and beside you.” The thought of Jesus not just leading me but actually walking with me – beside me –  encourages me and I hope you as well.

So I think I need to question myself each day – do my footprints point others to fear the Lord, honor Him, praise him and serve Him?  Do I choose this day whom I will serve?  Am I following Jesus’ steps and allowing Him to walk beside me, no matter where I go?

Joshua 22:5 says, “But be very careful to keep the commandment and the law that Moses the servant of the Lord gave you: to love the Lord your God, to walk in obedience to him, to keep his commands, to hold fast to him and to serve him with all your heart and with all your soul.”

Every day, the choice is mine to make and yours.  And this day is no different; I choose where I leave my footprints.  Where have you been and what are you leaving behind?  What footprints do you leave for your family, friends and those who come after you?  Do you need to change your direction?  All you have to do is ask Jesus to guide you.

©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

When steps turn into footprints, Part 1

Along with the rest of the world, I was watching television on July 20, 1969 when Neil Armstrong first stepped out of Apollo 11’s lunar module and became the first human being to plant his foot on the moon.  

“That’s one small step for man; one giant leap for mankind,” he uttered.

Armstrong left his footprints on the moon for eternity.   American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote, “Lives of great men all remind us we can make our lives sublime.   And, departing, leave behind us footprints on the sands of time.”

The majority of human beings do not lead lives that bring fame and ensure their names will be printed in history books for posterity.  But every one of us does leave footprints nevertheless.

Footprints are obviously what we leave behind us.  They show where we’ve been, past tense. “The footprints you leave behind will influence others.  There is no person who at some time, somewhere, somehow, does not lead another.” ~ Unknown

The question that arises in my mind is “How do my footprints influence others?”  When we look back at our past, sometimes we’re most pleased about where our footprints show we’ve been.  Other times, we’re ashamed to say our footprints reveal parts of our past of which we’re not very proud.   But all those steps we took reveal our legacy, a heritage, for those who come after us.

Contemplating the reality of that is a sobering thought.  What kind of heritage do I want to leave for my children and grandchildren?  What do I want my friends and loved ones to remember about my life?  What impact do I make on people who may have never met me but are reading my written words?

Leaving our footprints is an immense job with an awesome responsibility because our actions do influence other people, be it positively or in a negative fashion.   I’ve heard people say good friends leave footprints on our hearts.

Eleanor Roosevelt, wife of President Franklin D. Roosevelt, once said, “Many people will walk in and out of your life, but only true friends will leave footprints in your heart.”

No doubt those footprints loved ones inscribe on our hearts are pleasant, rewarding and remind us of lovely memories. Some people leave footprints that inspire us, encourage us and spark enthusiasm in us.

But I believe those who wrong us, abuse us or willfully harm us also leave their stamps on our hearts.  They trample us with their footprints and leave us wounded, often times bitter and filled with rage.  In some cases, the footprints they’ve ground into us become our very own which we use to step on others.

So today on this second page in Chapter 4 of my Opportunity book, I must ask myself – what kind of footprint legacy am I leaving behind?  Join me tomorrow as I pursue this question in Part 2 of Footprints.

©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com

And I’m not fooling

I hope you won’t be offended but I really want to tell you to “go fly a kite!”

No, really, I mean it.  And this isn’t an April Fool’s Day joke.

Usually when someone tells you to go fly a kite, he means “get away from me.”

Leave me alone!  Scram!  Get outta here!  Go jump in the lake!  Beat it!  Or my personal favorite – go smack yourself silly!

So naturally, I don’t mean any of that because I love my readers, really I do.  I’d love it more if you commented and let me know you were here reading and enjoying (or not) my blog, but regardless, I feel the love when I view my site statistics.

So I literally mean go fly a kite!  All month if you’d like.  You see, I turned over a new chapter and page in  that  book of Opportunity this month, Chapter 4, Page 1.  It’s April and this month just so happens to be “Go Fly a Kite Month.”  Really!

I wouldn’t make these things up.  As it turns out, kites have always fascinated me.  When I was a little girl, every spring I tried making my own kites out of paper, sticks and string.  I’d run outside on a windy day and expect my kite to suddenly take flight and soar like a bird.   And it never did!

Apparently, I didn’t understand the aerodynamics of kites because my homemade ones wouldn’t lift off the ground.  No matter how hard I ran around the yard holding onto my string, the kite just followed me on the ground like a lost puppy.

My mother would sometimes let me purchase a store-bought kite from the five and dime store.  I felt certain those flimsy pieces of plastic cut into the perfect diamond shape would take wing like a bird.  Alas, those kites never were inspired to much flight either.

After a while, I abandoned kite flying and left it to the grumpy old dad who finally realized he was missing out on fun with his children in the movie, Mary Poppins.   I watched that film in the movie theater way back in 1964, when it was released, and wondered why my kites never flew like those in the movie.  Probably because I didn’t have a nanny named Mary Poppins!  Heck, I never even had a nanny!

Years later, I became a mother with three children and on a whim one day, I bought a kite for them.  One gusty day in April, we assembled the kite and attempted to fly it in our Midwestern back yard.

I watched my children flit around the lawn, and I was still skeptical that a kite would actually fly.  Suddenly, it ascended into the sky and swerved and darted with each blast of air as my kids giggled with delight and I marveled.  I think I was as happy about it as they were!

Fast forward a couple of years.  Our family had recently moved to the Pacific Northwest and we drove to the coast (FYI for you eastern folks, we go to the “beach” here but in the Northwest, it’s the “coast.”) for a day of sightseeing and fun.

Driving through one of the coastal towns, we decided to stop and venture out onto the beach where a kite-flying contest was in progress.   Our eyes just about bugged out of their sockets.  What a sight!  There were huge kites, box kites, kites of every description floating and flying, soaring and swerving.

Eventually on one of our coastal trips, we visited a kite shop and bought ourselves a modest kite.  That kite fluttered and glided in ocean breezes in both Oregon and Washington giving us much delight as we took turns guiding it.   Even after we moved back to the home land, our youngest sometimes flew our kite.  But then he grew up and the kite lost its appeal.

You know what?  I’m pretty sure that somewhere out in the garage, that kite sits on a shelf unused and dusty.  You already know I live in a wind tunnel.  [If you missed that post, read  stirred-but-not-shaken]

So good grief, there’s plenty of gusty breezes at my house.  I’m thinking it might just be a good day for flying a kite! Oh wait, it’s snowing outside and that’s no April Fool’s.   Oh well, I have the entire month of April to go fly a kite.  Want to join me?

©2011 mamasemptynest.wordpress.com