My Other Birthday

We all celebrate the day we came into this world. It was not a day chosen by us, in fact, we had no say in being born but every year we celebrate this gift of life given to us. Although my Birthday is coming up soon, this weekend I am reminded of another day that had everything to do with a choice. It was August 7, the summer I turned eleven, when I attended a Summer Vacation Bible Club.

I don’t remember what the exact theme of the week was, but it had something to do with preparing for a trip. On one of these evenings, our teacher told us how we all start off in life on a wide road, the end of which leads to physical death. Somewhere along this road, when we hear of God’s love and desire to have a relationship with us, we are confronted with a choice to accept or reject. To invite Him into our life will lead us to a narrow road, because not everyone will choose that road.

That evening, I felt my heart pound, as it had done for some time whenever I felt this evasive spiritual truth spoken into my life. The truth was that I needed God to forgive my sins and receive assurance of life in heaven. We were asked to bow our heads, close our eyes and raise our hand if we wanted to admit this spiritual need. I don’t know how something so simple could have been so difficult. Pride was holding me back, but God knew my desire. My raised hand was noted by the teacher, who later prayed with me as I asked Jesus to forgive me and to come into my heart and life.

I was only a child. I could have been deceived. However, as I’ve walked the narrow road, I’ve only become more aware of how true and life changing this decision was. The peace of knowing that He who gave me the breath of life is also able to give me spiritual life and purpose is beyond what I can describe. For every stage of life, the good and the bad, He has been there, just a prayer away. He has shown Himself to me through answered prayer, his leading and words of affirmation in my heart. I now know that He is real. Just like the wind comes along and, although I can't see it, I can see its evidence, so I’ve found it is with God.

My faith in Jesus is a relationship in which He has done the part that provides salvation. I desire to do the part of living a life of gratitude to Him, for seeking me and finding me. Amazing Grace!

Cousins and Second Cousins

At Oma's Birthday Picnic there were three special young ladies catching up on life . . . three girls who spent every Birthday together from when they were babies to whenever it was that they stopped having parties. Not just Birthdays, but Sunday afternoons, sleepovers and camping trips! Younger sisters followed suit, but it began with these three . . . and suddenly one of them came to me and asked if I would take a picture.

It was one of those moments when I looked through my viewfinder, and this is really what I saw . . . two sisters whose names ran together . . . carolynbonnie . . . who both wanted to be next to their cousin Julene . . . so of course she always had to be in the middle.

At the same picnic, I also came upon two little second cousins . . . children of two of the cousins above . . . enjoying the swing.

Somewhere along the way I remembered mommy and her cousin in an album somewhere . . .

And thought . . . it's all good and still okay for second cousins to kiss on the swing.

All Because Two People Fell in Love

We were gathered together to celebrate her 93rd Birthday! Ninety- three years old . . . now so alone and yet not, with more than 100 people who, in one way or another, share her name. Her oldest children talked about retirement and ailments or shared their pride in their adult grandkids. Her younger children chased after their own grandchildren, making sure they didn’t get lost. With the spread, it was hard to tell where one generation ends and where the next one begins. That’s what happens in large families.

The tables were laden with large bowls of salads, fried chicken, ham, cold meatballs

and Zwieback . . . which, until not that long ago, were always made by her.

Her Birthday cake was a carrot cake with cream cheese icing and dried pineapple flowers.

I asked her if she was enjoying her food . . . she said she could hardly eat… the only way she could express her feeling was to say that inwardly she was crying . . . all these people . . . from one mom! Well, I wanted to say that she did not give birth to all of us, but I knew what she meant.

People were spread all over the beautifully landscaped yard . . .

babies on highchairs or on a blanket,

young children on swings,

or chasing the candy man.

Young adults playing volleyball

and others catching up on life in general.

Now I realize this all sounds like a long country song . . . but for this day it was real . . . a real family . . . just taking one day to be in one place to reminisce and give thanks.
Thanks for a Mom, grandmother, and great-grandmother who has made it her mission to care about each individual in her family for as long as she is able to.

The Second Half on - Letting your Life Count

I finished the book a while back but wanted to say that I found the latter part to be a bit more challenging and, maybe because of that, more real. In a few words, living a life that counts can be compared to running a marathon. I probably have never run a mile, let alone a marathon . . . so who am I to talk? But I can see the good advice in this challenge . . . advice about running with perseverance while throwing off hindrances . . . and not worrying about tomorrow, rather realizing that today is the day that counts. In all of this, seeing the big picture yet, taking one step at a time toward the goal.

Three related points for me to remember in the race I find myself in:

(1) My coach knows my weakness and knows what I can handle. He won’t put me in a race I can’t run. I remember when, after two weeks of driver training, my instructor informed me he was booking my appointment for the test. I was sure he did not know how unprepared I was! But in the end, he knew I needed the push and he knew what he was doing. I passed.

(2) Pride comes before a fall. If I think I’m doing well and begin to look around, I’ll be in trouble.

(3) If I’m not facing hindrances, is it possible that I’m not even in the race? Why else would the writer of Hebrews talk about running with perseverance . . . unless the race has challenges and obstacles?

An accomplished triathlete once shared the secret of his success by admitting that he can’t think about swimming the miles, but swimming to the next buoy is possible. You will reach the end of the long race by running the short ones or being faithful in the little things.

Therefore . . . let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith . . . Hebrews 12: 1-2

Picnic on the Landing Zone

Last Sunday afternoon Chris headed out to the paragliding launch on a ridge high above Bridal Falls. I have learned that Chris has loved anything to do with flying since he was small. In fact, he was only about eight years old when he read Jungle Pilot, which inspired him to pursue his present career.

So . . . back to Sunday . . . we packed a picnic supper and drove out to the Bridal landing zone. It was a perfect day for gliding! We spread out our Mexican blanket on the edge of the landing site and watched. I enjoyed observing the individual, close up, landing approach of each paraglider . . . whether they landed on their feet or their bum . . . which is possible with the padding in the harness (seat), but obviously not the preferred way to land.

Makenna made sure we knew that Daddy’s (paraglider) was the “blue one."

We watched the "blue one" soar above, disappear around the mountain and come back.

He was not in a hurry to come down, so we unpacked the old blue ice box . . .

ate supper . . . and dessert.

Finally it looked like Daddy was making his landing approach,

and a nice landing it was!

Our happy flyer with his deflated wing,

being greeted appropriately.

Supper was finished while the kids got in some flights of their own.

A relaxing, enjoyable and entertaining picnic it was!

Tehya Bethanne

Tehya was barely two when they left for Indonesia. This summer she is turning eight. I wish I’d known that, when she disappeared into that plane headed for Asia, it would still be possible to be Grammy and have a special relationship with my grandchildren. At the time, the unknown brought such aching sadness to my heart.

But over these past six years I’ve been comforted and blessed in many ways as I’ve learned that not only can she know me and love me but that life, as she sees it there, is working out for good in her.

Living among the poor and observing her mom and dad’s care for them is an experience that I would not be too quick to take away from her now as I see how she has grown into a confident and outgoing girl with a caring spirit for anyone who needs a friend. She has challenged me with her sensitivity and knowledge of what is right and wrong and she is eager to be of help where she can be. I think she will be a doctor one day. Come to think of it, penmanship is not her first priority. I write that with a smile.

Last Saturday, while everyone had plans to go out, she and I stayed home. It was the middle of the day, but it was movie time . . . a matinee. . . why not?
She had everything planned.

The movie was chosen.

She set the ambiance with lighting and blankets and, upon her suggestion, we made popcorn.

I wonder who enjoyed and needed this more . . . she or I? It’s times like these, that I treasure in my heart.