Mother's Day Weekend

In our back yard the little "fists" I posted about earlier have opened up into huge pop poms. Just thought I'd show them off here . . . to go with the flower theme this weekend . . .

which began on Friday morning with red roses and a sweet little note delivered to our door
 . . . from our Prairie family.

It continued with a beautiful lunch

graced with more flowers

a thoughtfully packaged gift . . .

Swiss eggs, a salad, fruit, banana chocolate muffins
and ginger carrot scones . . .
I felt spoiled!

On Saturday my H lined up all of our planters and pots and I got to go at them . . . filling them in anticipation of flowering planters all summer long.

Sunday we delivered a flowering azalea tree to my Mom.
My sister and I got in on a quick shot with her before she and Abe served us and our hubbies.
It was a beautiful weekend in many ways!

Motherhood

My little escapades into the past, via photos and thoughts on Mother's Day, have given me reason to think a bit more about the role of being a Mom. It's noteworthy to think on how we get an education and prepare for a career, making sure we are suited for the job and even ready to excel at it, when the career of motherhood is one that most of us just kind of fall into. One we learn as we go along, only coming to realize the significance of lives influenced, long after that first pregnancy test.

Had I known the demands and the way motherhood would be part of my very breath for the rest of my life, would I have signed up? New moms will quickly tell of the intense labor, loss of sleep, trips to the doctor and the loss of personal freedom. Every stage has new challenges as innocent little babes turn into little people with their own minds and ambitions, culminating at the point where  Mom comes to realize that she has given her all and off they go, taking a piece of her heart with them. And I marvel how, in looking at this view, does motherhood continue!

It is reasonable to think that this intense love born out of our own flesh or will, is what yearns for these challenges; challenges with results that can far outweigh the blessings of any temporary career. So, it is good I had no idea how motherhood would end up becoming a part of who I am, because it would have made me think more than twice before I jumped in. It's a mystery, the love that was born when that tiny, helpless baby was first cradled against my body and I knew my life would never be the same. It's when my life became about how to meet another's need and how to make her happy.

A parchment, clean and white, was laid out, on which I attempted my first strokes of a painting. Not every stroke made sense or looked beautiful, but with the Master's touch, corrective strokes blended into a scene that kept me wanting and yearning for more to see. This new painting of my child's life  mattered more than my own, yet somehow, in the process, it was mine that changed.

A new perspective came to life, sunlight reflecting the mystery of the rainbow against the clouds. In good times, joys were multiplied. In sorrow, I was comforted. In laughter, my bones were strengthened. In lonely times, I was remembered. In failure, I was forgiven. In another's success, I was honored . In shedding tears, I was renewed and in giving I received.

I have received more than I've given. Motherhood is a gift I cherish.

Hawaii - Twenty Five Years Ago

Although we took the kids on many a road trip and flew to far away places, such as Brazil and Eastern Europe, we only flew to Hawaii once as a family. The photos remind me of a very different time.

 

A time when the flight, in itself, was already an appetizer to what was to come, with a beautiful meal served on fine china.

 

A time when vehicles needed a bit more room to maneuver the curves and parking stalls,

and I'm sure the Honolulu skyline has a few more high rises in its view today.

The kids were easily entertained . . .

some empty drink containers and lots of sand kept them happy.

Not sure where this parrot came from, but he must have had an owner roaming the beach.

And yes ... it was a time when mom catching a football brought a huge smile to a little guy.

We introduced the kids to papaya with lemon and sugar.

and ventured out to more deserted beaches to watch the surfers.

Yes, we did the other touristy things that come along with a trip to the Big Island, but these are some of my favorites. I wonder if we'll go back one day and how many we'd be.

Twenty five Years Ago

Very slowly I've made my way through to 1990, scanning old photos and slides. Considering the fact that I began with our own baby photos/stories and that I've done a form of scrapbooking since about 2000 . . . it's not too bad. Only ten years to go!  Somehow it still seems daunting.
I was scrolling through the last batch of old photos that have made it to our computer, focusing on where we were at about 25 years ago. It's something to think about. Where was I at, twenty five years ago? Did I realize the significance of the season I was in?

Pictures do tell a thousand words. Were it not for these visual images, I know it would all seem so much more like a vapor that appeared and then was gone . . . leaving me to guess at what really happend in that mist. Details that, at the time, felt like they were a part of a cycle that would just repeat themselves forever.

Daily, diligent reminders and incentives to practice in the winter,

turned into carefree summer escapes to the park with friends



or to the beach with cousins.

 

I had a good look at the kitchen that used to be. The table I set for family breakfast, lunch and dinner. We were lucky. After breakfast the girls got a ride to school with their dad on his way to work. School and the office were close by, so they often came home for lunch, again with dad. And no one started eating supper until we were all around the table again. Of course, over the years, some of that routine changed but suppers were planned for a time when we could all eat together.

I wish that I could zoom in on the calendar that was always crazy full of things to remember. The phone was on the counter under the calendar, sitting right beside the stove, plugged in to an outlet there. That's where I stood, talking, when I saw our toddler try to swallow a marshmallow and it was me who almost stopped breathing when I saw his face. It's where I stood when I gave my daily reports to my mother-in-law about what I was doing. LOL. If only I could have taken the phone to the laundry room and done some folding in the meantime.  I loved my canister set with hearts and houses on it, but I really don't know what was with the silver teaspoon collection!
(the photo was taken early 1987, when we listed our house to sell)

A little visit to the kid's rooms at night . . . standing by their bed and wondering how I could have been upset about spilled juice or a ball that landed in the wrong place . . .

 

or how they could fight like crazy and then not be able to sleep apart.  

I fell into bed beside my hubby at night, thankful for the day, but maybe more thankful for the night.

We look back and don't have to look too far to see how things are now, as we get to watch from another perspective. The batton has been passed and these sleeping kids are tucking in their own.

The world has changed in many more ways than meet the eye. In some ways, the things that were supposed to make life easier, have made life more demanding. Our grown children have, with more opportunities, more things to be accountable for and more challenges than ever. This is the reason that we, as grandparents, need remember and give a helping hand . . . first, in the folding of the hands to pray and second, to keep practicing the things that need not change.

Faspa with a Twist

My story in the MGCC cookbook explains what Faspa has meant to me over the years, as a child and even now as a Grammy. When we were kids there were always Zwieback (homemade double buns) and coldcuts or egg salad and cheese to go with them. Any Saturday baking, such a Platz or chocolate pie, was also pulled out for this meal, often shared with friends who were invited or just dropped by.

Our family still loves Sunday afternoon Faspa and I like it because it reflects the day of rest and time spent together. I may not have baked fresh Zwieback on Saturday, but it is easy to have buns or bread in the freezer, veggies in the fridge, tuna and chips in the pantry . . .  something sweet and

 definitely some jam and Havarti cheese.

Recently, on a Saturday, I was in the mood for baking some sweets, but I knew that I'd need to call some people to share them with and so we did just that. This time the Sunday Faspa consisted of

Bev's Basil Tomato Pizza - makes two

large plate of veggies

Bran whole wheat soda bread -  takes about one hour from start to finish

 jams and cheeses

lemon cheese tarts - on the blog next week

and Kathy's Date Filled Oatmeal Cookies.

There were twelve guests. We filled our plates at the counter, sat down and had a great time catching up. Faspa with a twist. It usually still works out to be easy - and everyone is happy.

May Day Call To Prayer

It was 1952, after leading a rally in Washington, that Billy Graham called on the nation for a day of prayer. The following year President Harry Truman signed a proclamation designating a National Day of Prayer and in 1988 Congress fixed the first Thursday in May as the annual National Day of Prayer.

I’m not aware of Canada observing a National Day of Prayer, but history does not deny the fact that America’s origins on national prayer originate with its founding fathers. Over the centuries, prayer was unashamedly called upon during time of war as well as during prosperity. As recent as the 1990’s President Clinton encouraged people to take a moment to acknowledge their need for guidance for the future. He encouraged the nation to recognize their blessings, to  acknowledge their wrongs, to  remember the poor and to give thanks.( http://www.religioustolerance.org/day_pray2.htm )

I also have noted how in times of national hardship or natural disasters, it is not unusual for the president to mention the need for prayer in some form or another. It just may be that prayer has played a bigger part in the blessings that we have enjoyed in North America than we care to recognize, because, for a number of years now, the constitutionality of prayer has been challenged on one front after another. National Day of Prayer just being one at the moment.

This leads me to ask about the need of prayer, whether personally or as a nation. For me prayer is a voluntary expression of my dependence on God. It is a result of a relationship, having acknowledged that there is a God who created me, loves me and even desires communion. Prayer has made such an impact on my life, that living without prayer would be akin to living without fresh air. And yet prayer is not something to be forced, rather an option and an opportunity given to anyone who would like to witness for themselves whether it is authentic or imaginative. This is one reason I would see a National Day of Prayer as a unique opportunity to introduce someone to prayer and I am saddened by the confrontation that a day of prayer would cause, when I truly believe that many of the blessings we have experienced in this land are a result of those who have gone before us in prayer.

On the other hand, in a world trying to be politically correct, it may be reasonable to think that a national day of prayer is something that should be advocated by churches, rather than the government.  It is not that non-believers do not need to pray. In fact, God says that He will hear anyone who calls on His Name. But I also take note of the fact the God is talking to believers when He reminds them to pray always. In 2 Chronicles I read

 “If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves

and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways,

then will I hear from heaven

and will forgive their sin and will heal their land.”

In the New testament believers are called to pray and make intercession for kings and those in authority, that they may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness. (1 Tim.2:1,2) It is with these kind  of exhortations that I would challenge believers to pray in season and out of season. The call to prayer is to those who believe and to those who would like to taste and see for themselves.