Cold Dampness and Christmas

On this final day of November, the darkness outside belies the clock's 4:45 PM time. I've watched snow flurries and rain while I made oatmeal/craisin/white chocolate chip cookies to share with another couple coming tonight for spaghetti dinner. Dave managed to burn the trash and order some Christmas gifts via the internet, but the day appears pretty grim. I miss times of quiet with Little Stuff when we could just watch Veggie Tales together on the couch. Alas, I'm in Maryland and she's in Georgia.

Into this dismal day the background sounds, thanks to Cindy Bauchspies and Michael Card Christmas CDs, propel my spirit right into Advent. A day such as this one takes me to the cold dampness that I associate with the difficulties of the first Christmas. Whatever the weather that first Christmas night, the Christ child entered a hostile environment as He nestled down in a feeding trough. The Creator of the universe entered His world to find anger, hatred, and ultimately, death. No bright lights and tinsel, no blow-up reindeer or holiday buying sprees. Yet, for the likes of you and me, He gave up the splendor of heaven to walk this earth, tempted in all ways as we, and to lay down His life as a ransom for those He would call to faith in Him. I wait in this Advent season, savoring the depth of such a love.

Happy Turkey Day!

"Thanksgiving Spirit" doesn't have the Madison Avenue ring of "Christmas Spirit," and for that, I am thankful! Yet Thanksgiving Spirit has a warmth that will, hopefully, escape the advertising mogels for years to come. So Happy Turley Day, as Little Stuff's dress proclaims. Count God's blessings all day!

Our son, daughter-in-law, Dave, and I all had a hand in the food today. Austyn Grace's taste buds resonated most with our traditional monkey bread and fruit breakfast, and the pumpkin cake recipe I got from a Pillsbury Bake-Off contest years ago. Considering family favorites, we cook both a turkey and a spiral ham, and make mashed potatoes and a sweet potato casserole. A neighbor on Bearfoot Road had sent something new, a great compote of cranberries, apples and oranges; the girls liked it; the guys passed in favor of stuffing -- no surprises there!

Calls to and from Hawaii and Massachusetts allowed us to extend "thanksgivings" with other family members. Football, some Christmas decorating, as well as coloring, stickers, play-doh, and naps occupied most of our day together here. Meanwhile, the Hawaii branch of The Wolfe's Den enjoyed scuba diving. The thing that resonanted in each activity, each verbal exchange, was a sense of abiding peace coupled with an overwhelming knowledge of God's blessings in our lives. These showcase His grace, not any worthiness of ours. Our children, their spouses, their in-laws -- all know Jesus personally. III John says, "I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth." (v.4) No wonder the cornucopia defines Thanksgiving to me!

Early in the month I started to list specific items for which I gave thanks this year... the free gift of a motorized scooter; a loving husband who plans, but really trusts our finances to God in the midst of the economic downturn; God's kindness in having Stacey assigned to Hawaii instead of the expected Okinawa base; the richness of solid reformed preaching from the pastors of both the church in Severna Park and the one in Oakland; the gracious neighbors in both locations; Becky's good health as she carries the baby girl expected April 1st; the joy of travels to spend time with family; the excitement of Brent's first book coming out in December; the pain killers that help me function day to day. My list goes on, but the idea I want to purse this coming year involves thanking God more on a daily basis. Since Thanksgiving hasn't been packaged yet, this could stay our secret for a while. Happy Turkey Day!

Holiday Happiness

A few days ago Little Stuff and Grandma started to work on a ginbgerbread house as a surprise for Mommy and Daddy when they returned from Florida. This Grandma's idea of fun involved making things instead of hitting the mall with many other holiday shoppers. Given my inability to get around, the vast majority of my shopping happens via the Internet anyway.

Armed with the "everything you will need" gingerbread house, we started what would turned into a three-day project. Thankfully, time doesn't bind retirees or toddlers, so we worked for a while and then stopped, planning to resume another day. Most of my time went into attempting to control Little Stuff's sugar consumption! Sprinkles, red and green peppermint swirls, rainbow-colored dots, frosting, gum drops, and confectionery sugar kept her tasting as we went along. I loved her laughter, her licking my fingers, and the memory making! In this season of giving thanks, I still tell the Lord thank you for the simple things that involve telling the next generation about Jesus by spending time with them inside and outside church.

God-centered or Man-centered?

While at worship in Statesboro, Georgia this morning, I thought about the way I express thanks at this time of year when we gather around the Thanksgiving table. Most thoughts cast a look back at the people, blessings and lessons of the past year(s). Always a stickler for supporting details instead of mere generalizations, I have added several times this month to a list of specifics in my prayer journal. A sovereign God has allowed family, friends, teachers, choir directors, pastors and neighbors to walk alongside me, and for them, I am thankful. Around the people, God has swirled events and lessons in His work of making me look more and more like Jesus. Yet, the bulk of my thanksgiving centers on the past and on me. But what about giving thanks to God for the present and future?

Each day I need to thank God for His strength in my life, calling upon Him as my great physician and asking Him to superintend my day's activities, my heart, my tongue. I also should remember to thank God that His presence to guide me offers tangible proof of  my daily need for direction and His kind willingness to lead. How aware am I of thanking God daily? Do I presume on grace? As the apostle Paul puts it, "May it never, never be." So I will think more of thanking God in the present.

I also want to thank God for the future, captured in the youthfulness of Little Stuff as she stood by the duck pond on Saturday. Only in Jesus Christ can I offer

hope to her and to those God brings into my life this coming year. Whether princes and countries rise or fall, whether the economy rebounds or continues in a slump, whether I know pain or good health, the sovereign Lord holds all peoples and events in His gracious hands. How I thank Him for the assurance of the future.

As we gather to celebrate Thanksgiving this year, I will endeavor to make the day one that focuses more on God than man. How?  By casting a concentrated look at things present and future and thanking God for them. 

Gingerbread Houses and Scooters

What possible connection can exist between a gingerbread house and a scooter?  This Granma's 2009 list of  "Thanksgiving Blessings" includes both!  A few weeks ago, Granpa picked up a kit for making a gingerbread house, thinking our granddaughter and I would enjoy constructing this sweet

confection together while her Mommy and Daddy traveled to Miami to visit Uncle Bryan. The first step, gluing the house pieces together with frosting, went slowly, but by giving Little Stuff a taste here and there, the first step came off without a hitch! We add the decorations tomorrow afternoon!

The second blessing, a free scooter that a neighbor on Bearfoot Road gave us, traveled to Gerogia with us and has allowed this Granma such freedom and mobility. A trip to the mailbox means the two of us zip out the driveway with a toot of the horn. We gather the mail from the box, place it in the basket, take a spin around the neighborhood, and come back huddled together. How could this daily task be any more fun?

Well, it's even more fun when the scooter morphs into a chariot for Little Stuff to attend a princess birthday party, with Granma as her driver. Scatter the fairy dust, and a bit of magic emerges for us both. I clasp her hand, head for the garage, place the birthday gift in the basket, and with a toot of the horn, we head off, my heart filled with thankfulness for the simple joys today held: a gingerbread house and a battery-operated scooter! Praise God from whom all blessings flow!

Helping

In our busyness as a society, we Americans have too often abdicated neighborliness, care, and simple helpfulness to the government. The politicians develop a program, create an entire bureacuracy to oversee the activities, and finally, assign a series of watchdog levels to monitor the bureacrats. The resulting "help" to the intended recipients falls woefully short of the good intentions of those who introduced the bill that started the government ball rolling. How can we make changes? We need to teach the next generation the joy of serving, helping out when the "volunteer" hours are not a graduation requirement or met with pay. What better way to start than with the curly blonde we know as our granddaughter.

When we arrived in Georgia, Grandpa wanted to wash his Jeep, so he showed her how to wash the sides and then rinse. Yes, the job took longer and we all came into the house soaking wet, but the laughter was brighter than even the silver Jeep. "Little Stuff" had helped Granpa adn loved every minute. Why do we stop doing this, I wondered? Somewhere during childhood, we must stop practicing service for fun. Do we resent the time involved in extra laundry? Want the job done in 15 minutes and know that we can accomplish it without the "help" of littler ones? Whatever it is, we have paid a high toll for the time we may have gained here and there. I found it ludicrous when a teacher friend had to arrange the freshmen volunteer hours for all the 9th graders in her homeroom. That's right. She found the activity, set up the times, and had to check back to see who showed up and who did not. For those for failed to appear, the teacher got to arrange another activity. Pleazzzzzze!

This afternoon, while Granpa and I are babysitting for five days, we went to a local park to see the ducks. While there, I saw one or two big pinecones near the place we parked the Jeep. I got the idea of making some autumn wreaths as a surprise for Brent and Becky's return. As Granpa and Little Stuff started off for a walk, Dave asked if I could use more pinecones if he found them. As soon as I smiled and said yes, Dave had an instant helper. Looking at this photo, I know I'm thankful for the opportunity to grandparent! 

Don't Miss Thanksgiving

The Madison Avenue buzz wants Americans to focus on November 27th, two weeks from today, because that's Black Friday. And if we walked through WalMart in Ocotber, we experienced whip lash, seeing Halloween and Christmas items across from each other in the same aisle. What happened to Thanksgiving? Shhhh, let's keep it our little secret lest the moguls of the advertising world start to market "Thank Ye" trees with mini Pilgrims, tiny conucopias, and strings of yellow, orange and green lights. No, except for the food and florist ads, Thanksgiving has not yet fallen to commercialism. And for that I am extremely grateful.

Thanksgiving centers around family traditions, soup kitchens that feed the homeless,  gardens' bounties of food and beauty, people stopping to express genuine thankfulness for their blessings. When our sons lived at home, we placed five kernels of corn on their plate one year, talked about the first Thanksgiving, and asked them to name five items of personal thanksgiving. Over the years, the activity morphed into expressions such as, "I'm thankful for my family, friends, house, food, car that runs..." You get the idea. While we did appreciated these things, the reporting sounded somewhat rote and not well thought out. Rarely did someone thank the Lord for the ability to keep praying for someone who was tough to like. We didn't usually thank God for character development when it came slowly and with halting steps.

Busyness posed another problem as I shopped, baked, made a floral arrangement, ironed the good table cloth, and got out the china for this family occasion. I had not given much over-the-entire-month time to replay the year in my mind, to really count my blessings. The truth expressed in Ephesians 5:19-20 advocates continual thanksgiving. "Speak to one another with psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs. Sing and make music in your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ." So this year I grabbed my journal when the specific things came to mind and wrote them down. One blessing has come from my being part of the local garden club's herb committee. They taught me about putting the last of autumn's leaves and home grown lavender into glycerin water to create the free arrangement pictured above. Such a simple joy, an expression of beauty that causes me to reflect on God's creation. I have already listed nearly 30 things now, taking the time to savor each as it has come to mind. As the advertisers flood the mailbox with the November 27th sales, I hope they continue to skip Thanksgiving. It's my favorite holiday and I don't want commercialism to ruin it!

Thanks to our Veterans

I thanked my husband this morning and wished him a Happy Veteran's Day. He left Buffalo, New York in February 1967, headed to Phan Rang AFB, north of Saigon. When then President Lyndon Johnson sent his new son-in-law there, I sure prayed that LBJ loved Lt. Robb and wanted to see him serve on a relatively safe base. Since Dave's folks lived in Honolulu that year, he flew in from Nam, and I cut a week's worth of college classes and flew in from Buffalo. During that week, Dave asked me to marry him in August 1968, and I said "Yes,"  He returned to duty in November, and I returned to classes. February loomed closer, and while my excitement grew, Dave's base started to go on nightly alerts. The TET offensive launched the very week Dave was due to come home. The day scheduled for his arrival came; I left Houghton College in the midst of a blizzard and drove to the Buffalo Airport, not knowing if he'd even arrived on that plane. I'd received no confirmation or call regarding the his incoming flight to Washington State. Standing virtually alone at the gate, I watched the passengers disembark and walk across the snow-covered tarmac. A few military personnel emerged, but not my Dave. The horrible scenarios that swirled in my brain consumed me, and I turned to leave. Suddenly he appeared...the very last passenger off the plane. What a fantastic reunion we had, despite the fact that the airport announced its immediate closing and it took us hours of inching along the higway to get back to campus! That happened almost 43 years ago. And yes, we married that next summer as planned. I have always thanked God that Dave arrived home safely after his year's tour of duty.

Attending hometown parades with fire trucks, American flags, patriotic music and retired veterans marching side by side always chokes me up. Let the high school band play the "National Anthem" or "God Bless America" and my tears start. What a privilege to live here in America. When I see a man or woman in uniform at the airport or in the mall, I try to say, "Thanks for serving," but I don't always remember. This year I've seen many stores and restaurants offer some ways of saying thanks. Perhaps we are mourning the tragedy that occurred at Fort Hood. Maybe we know more of the importance of our military. I hope so. You see, Dave came home to the jeers of war protesters. He and those who served in Nam received very little thanks. The Nam vets heard far too many snide remarks about their lack of savvy. What hadn't they gone to Canada? People considered the Nam veterans stupid for serving in an immoral war.

It took Dave several years before he could visit the poignantly austere Viet Nam Memorial in DC. I still can't go there without experiencing a real emotional drain. The sacrifices made by those men and women met with ingratitude from protestors who had the right to protest only because of the military's protection of the rights guaranteed to all in the US Constitution. So I salute the men and women who have served and who currently serve; their sacrifice allows us to enjoy our freedom. I hope we remember throughout the year and not just on Veteran's Day.

The Difference Between Do and Done

For years I lived by the "to do" list. Almost every night before I went to bed, I wrote a 4 X 6 card with the things to be accomplished the next day. Theoretically, I then fell asleep, having cleared my mind of responsibilities by having them written on my card.
However, many nights I lay with open eyes mentally adding things until I got up and added another card or started with a fresh card detailing the new "others" on the list.

Many years ago my Mom told our Bible study that we girls expected too much of ourselves. She told us we went to bed discouraged because we had only crossed 15 items off our 23-item list. Had we not done 15 things? Where did we lose sight of the accomplishments? In her day Monday was wash DAY -- all day. Sorting heralded the start of the process. Clothes went into the wringer washer, then to the extractor, then out on the clothesline (think New York State winters!). When dried, or frozen, the clothes came into the house, went on radiators if thawing was required, and were folded and put away. Since no one then owned the amount of clothing we do now, the wash day completion was imperative. Even with Mom's pep talk, I spent years living by the legalism of the "to do" list.

 At the end of our first year of retirement and my year anniversary of making no "to do" lists, I love the grace of life lived without legalism. This past Sunday Dave and I took a "car hike" after lunch. I asked Dave to stop the Jeep as we crossed a tiny tributary of Bear Creek when the sunlight and water caught my attention. I got out and a branch caught a shaft of sunlight and dazzled in front of my lens. We had just visited a local artist's fused glass studio, bought one of her pieces as a Christmas gift, and enjoyed the beauty and serenity of her yard. Sunday afternoon beckoned us to revel in God's creation -- and no  "to do" list for Monday hung over my head. Such freedom!
Yesterday, after cleaning, dusting and completing the window washing, Dave and I opted for a mid-afternoon DVD after a soak in the hot tub. 

I thought of the parallels between life in the fast lane and retirement pacing  as they compare to one's faith. So many religions relate security of the next life and comfort in this world to performance. Follow such a religion and the "to do" list hangs precariously over my head. Do a prescribed prayer, sacrifice, duty, etc. and I will please the chosen deity. Living by grace in all that Jesus accomplished on my behalf means He accepts me as His child. That doesn't mean license (St. Augustine said, "Love God and do as you please.") but it means living and serving out of gratitude and not obligation. The Gospel offers relationship and not religion. As my pastor said on Sunday, "Legalism says 'do'; the Gospel says 'done.'"

Homemade Memories

Happy Halloween from the Georgia Wolfes straight to Granma and Grampa's hearts. Although we couln't go around the neighborhood with our granddaughter, we vicariously took the trip via photos. We have thankful hearts for her patient Daddy who did the cutting on the jack-o-lantern but engaged his daughter with the seeds, and for her Mommy who brought infectious giggles to the festivities. Her Georgia grandparents joined in the fun, carrying coffee as Little Stuff sought sweeter goodies for her bag. I reran my mental camera to the days when Dave carved while Brent and Bryan decided how the teeth should look on the jack-o-lantern that year. I remember, too, the Oscar the Grouch costume Dave and I constructed; green fun fur for the head, fuzzy green pjs that we had, and a tinfoil covered trash can that had straps over the shoulder that held it in place. Happy memories!

Families solidify a society, and simple traditions strengthen family ties. Despite trendy phrases about villages that raise a child or the importance of community, Scripture talks most about family. Only in Judges does Deborah use the word village. God brings Israel into being with a call to Abram and promises to bless him through his family. Later, Rahab and her family, escape the destruction of Jericho, and she enters the lineage of Christ. Still  later, the New Testament refers to believers as the family of God. The psalmist offers this: "A father to the fatherless, defender of widows, is God in His holy dwelling. God sets the lonely in families, he leads forth the prisoners with singing..."

The family traditions at your house at the end of October may include mums and corn stalk decorations, Reformation Day celebrations, face painting, pumpkin carvings, and silly costumes, or a myriad of fun activities. I hope you took the time to stockpile these memories; you'll draw strength from them in the future.  

The Creek, the Seasons, the Lord

In the midst of God's creation out here in Accident, Maryland, stand the markers of change. I wrote earlier about Bear Creek's movement as it relates to our children. Next, the movement of autumn to winter caught my eye as the trees literally looked stripped of their leaves in a matter of days. This transformation coincided with Dave's Mom's move to a small nursing facility. Just this morning, emails arrived asking me to pray for people facing health issues, and for a pregnant woman who lost her baby seven months into her pregnancy. No certainties support us. Companies who promised retirement pensions default; the stock market fluctuates violently; our health status changes with one visit to a doctor. Where do we turn? What gives stability in the midst of living real life in a broken world? We yearn for stability that also reflects reality. To whom do we cling?

Moses, no  stranger to tragedy, triumph, and unsettledness, wrote Psalm 90. In it he discovers rock solid stability, something we do not personally produce in this world.  "Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations. Before the mountains were born, or you brought forth the earth, and the world, from everlasting to everlasting, you are God." Our aim then settles into a daily prayer as we live in the midst of transitions: "Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom...May your deeds be shown to your servants, your splendor to their children. May the favor of the Lord our God rest upon us; establish the work of our hands for us -- yes, establish the work of our hands." Next, Psalm 91 affirms that the Lord alone must root us in all changes. "He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, 'He is my refuge and my fortress, my God in whom I trust." As we cling to Him, we "find rest for our souls" as the psalmist puts it, or that "the peace of God which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus," as Paul wirtes in Philippians. And these promises stand whether the creek moves on or the seasons transfer power and beauty for barren limbs.

Transitions

Yesterday Dave's 93-year-old Mom moved to a nursing home, a house actually, that accommodates five residents. Mom has lived with Dave's oldest brother and his wife for more than four years now, and her physical needs have continued to increase. So Mom, an avid New York Yankees' fan, watched her large flat screen TV, the one with the extended baseball package that allows her to watch hundreds of baseball games, move to her new room.


Transitions happen throughout our lives here "under the sun," as Solomon wrote. I took two pictures from the back porch about ten days apart. Here nature mirrors the rapid transition from the glorious colors of autumn to the bare trees that await the first snows.  the family knew this time of change for Mom would come, so we have prayed for Mom's transition to her new surroundings. After having visited two other larger facilities earlier this year, we thought we'd found a good placement, but when our sister-in-law and niece found this house, the size seemed to fit Mom better than any other facility. With hearing and vision loss that couple with a shy, private personality, Mom's needs just don't center around bingo, dancing, and other group activities. Still, change affects us all --Mom and her family. Thankfully, the Houston Wolfes live only minutes from Mom and will visit frequently.The five-year-old twin great granddaughters will liven up Mom's new residence on their after-school visits.

I thought about Ecclesiastes where the Preacher reminds us that all transitions, including the trying of everything -- meaningful work, wisdom, folly, pleasures, wine, women, money --all represent a chasing after the wind. Only in the final chapter does the author give a meaning to life. "Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man." Our family finds comfort in Mom's life and new surroundings; we also pray she can process this latest transition. She did "remember [her] Creator in the days of [her] youth"; I simply want to know more of the faith and wisdom that have sustained her over the years. That way I can move more graciously through the transitions God has planned for my life.