Blooms in the Desert

 As I think about the effects of the pandemic -

and the terrible things happening because of war -

I'm feeling less joy in posting photos of things that sound like a dream.

Not a day goes by that we don't remember and pray for 

those who are left homeless, separated, hungry and afflicted.

And yet, here we are ... undeserving and not

wanting to take this vacation for granted. 

We brought our bikes along,

and have done a fair bit of cycling this time.

To think that a desert can produce such beauty 

is something that reminds me of the season in life we are in now.

It is a unique time and place 

to look back as well as to look ahead.

The palo verde trees along the streets were in full bloom last week and

today many of the blossoms had fallen off.

Such a brief glimpse of their beauty. 

As we pack up to begin our journey towards home

I am grateful for blooms in the desert.

A sign of hope, in a dry and parched land.

A prayer of my heart for all. 

The Napa Valley Detour

The first time my H and I drove down to explore southern California,

I was 20 and he was 25.

 This year we will be 65 and 70!

Listening to a favorite artist of the 70's, 

I let the years flash through my mind

and found it hard not to get a bit emotional.

God has been so good!

There were years that we picked up three excited kids from school,

suitcases in the car, ready to head to Portland or farther,

sometimes driving late into the night. 

Now they are doing similar trips.

Familiar landmarks dot the way

ranging from scenic mountain views to farms and orchards.

I always marvel at the precise way the trees are planted,

straight rows no matter which direction you look,

flying by in a kaleidoscope design 

intensified by the white painted stakes or trunks.

We are still getting used to the fact that we can slow down and take our time now,

so, for the first time, we took a detour off the I5

ending up on a windy road leading to Napa Valley.

There was something magical even about just getting there.

Wildflowers along the side of the road.

Okay, I made him stop!

California poppies

I coudn't get enough of the views.

Immaculate hillside vineyards began to dot the landscape. 

Coming into Napa, the friendly vintage locomotive Wine Train made its presense known 

as we drove by and admired the historic homesteads.

We made our stop at one that made us feel like we'd been transported into Italy.

 

We didn't  do the tour or the wine tasting but it's all available,

along with a large Deli where we got our lunch

and then took it out to a picnic table area. 

It was a perfect setting and one I'll remember as a highlight. 

We left this beautiful little valley after such a short visit, but hope to be back. 

 

Run to the Father

Last Sunday I was touched by the music and lyrics

of this song written by Cody Carnes.

I love how the words express that

whatever comes, 

we can keep running to the Father

who loves us more than we can ever understand. 

Such amazing grace.

 I'll post the words of the second verse and chorus.

You saw my condition

Had a plan from the start

Your Son for redemption

The price for my heart

I don't have a context

For that kind of love

I don't understand

I can't comprehend

All I know is I need You

I run to the Father

I fall into grace

I'm done with the hiding

No reason to wait

My heart needs a surgeon

My soul needs a friend

So I'll run to the Father

Again and again

And again and again

Oh, oh

Again and again

And again and again

♡♡♡

History Repeated

These days, as our thoughts go out to Ukraine and Russia, I was looking up the map of where my grandparents came from and I came across this photo that I posted as part of my grandmother's story a number of years ago. 

This photo has always struck me as beautiful and sad at the same time. My Omi and my dad, facing a life I just could never imagine. In about 1943 they fled Memrik (Ukraine) under the threat of the Russian army. By this time her husband had been executed and two other children had died, likely because they were not able to get medical attention. Together they faced the war torn landscapes, settling in Poland and later in Germany.

This map shows the Mennonite villages in Ukraine 100 years ago, places that were moslty destroyed during WWII.  But as I see the News today, showing the line-ups of refugees heading to Poland and other places, it makes history come alive. My heart cries out for the mothers and children having to leave their husbands and daddies, not knowing if they will ever see them again. Many people making life and death decisions. I also pray for the Russian soldiers who may not have a choice about being where they are. Altogether very sad. And yet, I'm here. My children are here, as are my grandchildren. May we never forget the price of freedom and may God redeem the years the locusts have eaten, even today. 

Sweet Sleepover

Last Friday we took advantage of the teachers' Pro D day for a sleepover.

Teddy, Evy and Jade came over on Thursday, dragging pillows,

favorite blankets and stuffies along with them.

We pulled mattresses together to make up a king size bed in front of the TV,

made a large bowl of popcorn and the girls quickly decided what movie to watch.

Finally I got to find out what the minion craze has been about!

The  movie began with describing Despicable Me (Gru) as a man who delights in wickedness.

So far, not so good. 

With his army of yellow minions and weapons, 

Gru set up a plan to steal the moon, not allowing anything or anyone to get in his way.

But a surprise came along in a package of three orphans who changed his life.

It was one of those "Awe" endings that make for a sweet movie. 

And talk about sweetness, there was not a question in any of their minds

as to what they wanted for breakfast. 

Jade kept saying, "This is my favorite breakfast ever!" 

After breakfast they continued with their dress up games,

and invited Papa and me to their restaurant. 

I was seated and served in short order,

but Papa was given a hard time and ended up having to get vaccinated 

right then and there at the till. 

 

Childhood is such a wonderful time!

And the impact they can have on you -

well, the movie says it all! 

From Another Shore

 

This past week week we've taken time to rest. My H did the best thing by taking me away to a distant shore with blue skies, sunshine and no commitments.

We've stayed at a quaint B&B just a block away from the main street, in the old fishing village of Lahaina; delicious breakfasts served on the front porch and our room around the back, a few steps from the pool.

The main street is lined with tiny shops on one side and numerous restaurants ocean side, where we have taken in the most amazing meals and sunsets.

To get to the beach we walked past the old banyan tree that takes up a city block in size.

You can see the original trunk and how it shoots out forming new trunks, so that by now it looks like a forest, with all trees connecting to the center. 

Going the other direction we got into some local neighborhoods as we walked the beach to the north.

We walked for miles

wading into the salty water where I let my tears flow.

We got lost in books and dozed off on lanais.

The thought that the end of a season has come upon us hit me when Monika and I stopped off at the care home last week. Our arms laden with roses, cards and chocolates, we stood at the door to say thank you. Together we had settled mom in in January 2018 and together we rang the doorbell for the last time now - not able to go inside anymore. 

January has never been my favorite month and this year it added a whole new element to cold winter days as we sat with mom during her final week, buried ourselves in plans for, what she would be able to call "a good funeral" and then the final clean up. 

 I was more overwhelmed with tiredness than grief

and, in a strange way, happy that it was this specific month that remained true to its melancholy self so as not to waste another.

I grieve not that my mom has left, but I do grieve the lost years she had to endure. 

Years that made no sense, other than how they have affected me and taught me a lot about her as well as myself. I learned that what she stored up in her heart was what took her through those lost years.

And because I'm a Christian, I also believe that when she saw Jesus, all of her loss was forgotten.

Life is a precious gift, and eternal life is more. 

I wish to thank all of you for sharing in this time with me, 

for your expressions of love, sympathy and prayers.

Your visits and words have been a comfort during this time.

♡♡♡