Thursday, 05 February 2009

  • My Anniversary Gift

    Walt and I, on Valentines Day, will celebrate 33 years of marriage. With the economy in the pits and the daily challenge of "cutting back" a continual feast, I felt that my expectation for this combined jubilee should be pretty much nil.  Well cheap, anyway.  Hmmm...Was the situation right for the totally free, yet most valuable request of the decade? But I'm a bit ahead of myself. Let me go back a ways...

    From the day I met Walt he has always sported a nice mustache- and the army photos I saw of him without it were shocking and almost scary. How could a man look so different without that facial fuzz? Of course, I didn't tell him this at the time, so when two weeks after the honeymoon he sauntered out of the bathroom with a clean upper lip, I was horrified. His smile was a handsome one, but one I didn't know.  I sputtered something about maybe he should have said something first, then bolted out the door for a long ride in the car, crying, praying and saying to myself, "You didn't marry a face.. you didn't marry a face...." over and over. Well, as you would imagine, he figured he had, ah, made a mistake, and as hair on a man's face grows quickly, within three weeks the adornment was back.

    Fast forward three years. One winter Walt had a three-week duty up in the high Appalachian Mountains in Virginia harvesting Christmas trees, and we were separated the entire time. He was with burly, unkempt old and young mountain men, and while there he never shaved. I guess it was another male unconscious nothing. When I saw him I was once again amazed at the difference. But to the surprise of us both, I really liked his beard. (Could it have had something to do with that long separation, ya think?) But he didn't like it, and within a week it was gone. Of course the mustache stayed.

    Over the years that ever present mark of identity has gone through quite an evolution of change. The gradual turning white, the decision to darken it to match his dark brown hair, the aggravation of the constant care of that, and the subsequent shaving of it off --again--- with vehement protests from the kids as well as me. Then, around the time of our 22nd anniversary, when he played a Bible character in VBS, I got the virtual shot of whatever the best drug out there is- (Yeow!!)- the addition of the full, now snow white beard! But he kept it 2 or 3 months (rehearsals and performance) and shaved it off saying, "It's just not me, it's too itchy, I don't like you imagining me as Sean Connery...." blah, disappointing blahh...

    Almost at the end of this silly story came the end of 2008.  One day, after months of seeing his pure white mustache, he came into the kitchen with a dark brown one!  I screamed, "What are you doing? Is this a late midlife crisis? I was just getting used to the white! You look funny, since now your hair is graying! Oh, dear, oh, dear..." So, without a word, he went upstairs and shaved it off.  Now, (here we go again..) I was seriously upset. He just hugged me as I winced, and assured, "Don't worry, it's the quickest way to get your white one back." I just smiled. But then people started telling him he looked "nicer, kinder" without a mustache! "It takes 10 years off, Walt!" Oh, me, I was losing my footing here. Even the kids thought he looked good clean shaven. At this point, I had to sit back and watch. What would he do? Well, after another week or two of the general public survey, he said, "You're the one, Babe.You get it your way." Awww....

    Could I now move in for the kill ---since our 33rd anniversary is coming up??

    You guessed it. I don't have the photo yet, but if you want it I'll post it. He has, as of today, a beautiful, Conneryesque, white beard.
    I love it.
    He got off cheap.

    Love to you all in this new year!!


Wednesday, 26 September 2007

  • A Pulse Found

    Since I just learned again how to, ah, write in my blog ( is that called a "post"?) I thought I would try it again after this very long time. Why, you may ask, am I taking the time now, after all these elapsed unblogging months, to do this?  I don't really know, except that one sweet cyberperson keeps asking when I am going to.  So, here goes.

    A lot has happened in our lives recently--
    ....the releasing of one more arrow from the quiver of 4, bringing us down to one arrow left (I may post about that at another time, but don't hold your breath.)  This is good, needs to happen, but still tastes like medicine no matter how often you've done it;
    .... the loss of the daily joy of little banging hands at the back door, as our son with wife and four boys moved farther away;
    ...our move into a house a quarter of the size of our old one ( yes, I recommend this- it is good for the soul);
    ... and joining a large church with a massive Sunday School class.

    Whew!
    That IS a lot. But is has all been in answer to much prayer. We know that our steps are ordered by the Lord and that He is directing our paths.
    Now, to the pearl of my post. I am learning much from our Sunday School class. So..
    Got a minute?

    We've been studying John and passages from Romans. The John stuff is about how Jesus was in perfect submission to His Father God, got away to pray and listen, did nothing-- nothing-- but what the Father told Him to, and lived in total peace in this relationship. We talked about all the hindrances to our hearing Jesus speaking to us. There are so many distractions. But the Romans passages have focused on the main voice that draws us away from our true center -- the "sin" that remains in us, the "old man", the "flesh", the Poser.

    Poser-I had never heard my post-salvation self be named that before, and it has made me so much more aware of the power and just plain old control we give to this supposedly dead former ruler of our lives.

    How did he come by this name-Poser? Well, when I accepted Christ as my (oh-so-needed) Savior from the death I deserved, I became a new man (woman) and was then free to live a new life of peace --and joy in my relationships. But, I often don't. Why, then, don't I?
    It's because the old me is not dead- like gone- until I leave this body behind in physical death. I am told to reckon him (her) dead-- act like he(she) is-- and live in this new, clean and pure, self. (ignore gender words, okay?)
    The picture might look like a banished king -- not dead- but stripped of power--(remember the insane wife kept in the tower in "Jane Eyre"? you got it!) who is so mad at the new regime that she constantly harasses the new king, bullying him- telling him that he doesn't know what he's doing and that he can't even think straight. It's intimidation, mind control, psychological (emotional, even) abuse, ---and we let this guy do it!! But the truth is, the flesh is a poser. Even if he gets a costume and looks just like the new sovereign, he is still just an impostor-- not the real me. The real me is actually full of God -- his Spirit. That is just sooooo fantastic. As long as I open up the phone line to this Poser he will cause static, and I won't be able to hear the voice of God. I must say no to that voice and hear the quiet of my mind listening to the One who loves us so much.

    More later...

Sunday, 13 May 2007

  • Mother's Day at Home

    Treated to coffee in bed, yummy strawberries and toast  on the good china (with cards, of course) , lunch out after church, calling my elegant mom in Canada, calling my daughter (a mom), having grandchildren smother me with kisses--oh, and a very short nap - 3 or 4 minutes- that's what Mother's Day is all about!

    Isn't it delicious?



Monday, 30 April 2007

  • My Birthday Girls

    This week my two daughters have birthdays. The baby is "sweet sixteen" and the other one is - well- the very youthful mother of five. They are both beautiful inside and out,13 years apart- the eldest, the guinea pig and half-willing "victim" of my blossoming adulthood, the one who talked in full sentences before she was 18 months and continues to talk or write herself out of a paper bag... and the youngest, the one who saw no need to talk at all for several years- but could beat all of us at any game we chose and whose presence tells me the mirror must be lying. Being their mother has challenged me to my very core- and that is not a bad thing. It is, after all, mainly our children and husbands whom  God uses to knock off the rough edges of the whatever-we-are and make us "usable" for something important.

    For me, it is gloriously and inexplicably hard to be a mother when the job is in mid flight and there are "miles to go before I sleep", but is is excruciating to be a mother when the job is over/almost over and lying awake at night I wonder if  either feels genuinely, thoroughly loved and accepted for who she is- that she doesn't have to do anything to be my absolute delight, that just her voice on the other end of the phone, or her mussed up hair in the morning, or her flurry around a disastrous kitchen are enough to warm my heart.  But the morning comes, the sun rises, life starts again, like yesterday, without the wonderings being acted upon... and night arrives again...

     Do these precious daughters know that my motherly fussing and expecting and evaluating and even demanding (ouch, it is just that) were for their sakes, not mine. (of course, not all - the loathed ego does so much get in the way- another cause for sleeplessness..)  Do they know that I wouldn't change anything about them really? My only desire is that they would love God with everything in them- and that they would obey Him. I so hope they know that they are unique in the world and in our family; they are each gifted with talents and potential possessed by no other women.

    I love them both soooooo much!
    Happy Birthday, my prized jewels. I truly enjoy you. You are accepted and cherished by your mom.

Tuesday, 24 April 2007

  • Kansas City Fun!

    This week I'm visiting the Francis Five- Trenton, Trina, Tacey, Tyler,  and Tegan. Learning how to change the bandages of Tyler here was one of the challenges of the day. Oh, she lost part of her pinky in a door the day I arrived--grusome. Doctor visits, dressup, yardsaling, and eveymannerofhilarity has been the order of the day!
    Oh, I'm tired...
     

The_Psychiatrist_IS_IN

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    • Name: Sandi
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  • Interests: Watching my two teens and many grandchildren grow up. A fascinating marriage to a businessman adventurer. Desiring to comment and somewhat experience cyber world - if I can do it in 30 or so minutes a day. What other interests does one have time for?
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