The Butterfly Theory

"Love is like a butterfly: It goes where it pleases and it pleases wherever it goes."

Things have been exciting at our house lately; we have two new grandchildren on the way in the coming year.  We have also recently welcomed two, adorable great nephews into the clan.  All these new little lives are a blessing, and yet sometimes I worry about all that they will face in the future.  I have been thinking a lot about how their parents will need to prepare them and raise them for this time.  One thing I know, the next generation is going to have to be strong, strong in mind, in heart and in spirit.

In many ways, I think equipping today’s children for life will be a bit like preparing an army for battle.  These little ones will need to know about all the enemies that will try and destroy them and use them for their own gain.  They will have to work harder than some in the past to uncover truth, real truth, not the “truth” the media and others will try to force feed them.  They will have to protect their hearts and spirits from those who reject their beliefs and seek to undermine their faith and moral fiber, while professing tolerance.  They will need to train for might so that they can protect those who are even more vulnerable. Perhaps most difficult, they will need to fight their battles with love, patience, caring, and integrity, and that takes a lot of discipline and strength.  It’s a daunting task, but not impossible.




This morning I heard a devotional about the “butterfly theory”

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Butterfly_effect


Which in very basic terms means that even a butterfly’s fluttering wings eventually move the air and molecules in another part of the world.  In other words, EVERYTHING that we do affects something or someone else.  I was reminded that all that I do can change the world for good or bad and affect others positively or negatively.  It is sobering to think that one way or another, everyone my grandchildren and others in the next generation come into contact with(or even those they don’t) ,can change the course of their little lives.  I realize I can’t control what others do, but I can control what I do, to a certain extent.  I can speak kindly, hold firm to my faith and beliefs even when it’s not popular and do it kindly.  I can continue to love those I don’t always agree with, I can keep my words and dialogue civil even in debate and disagreement. I know that I fail sometimes, but in other words, when I flutter my wings I hope they eventually move the world around me in the right direction.  And, that my grandchildren benefit from that example.

I am also praying that those I know will embrace the high road. . .flutter kindly my friends. . .move the world in a positive direction. . . you too are responsible for the way the next generation (including my little ones) world's unfold, and I’m counting on you.

Laugh Lines

"If wrinkles must be written on our brows, let them not be written upon the heart. The spirit should never grow old."  James A. Garfield

Nora’s soft little finger ran across the skin under my eye.
 “What are all those lines and bumps around your eye, Grammie?” she asked.
I laughed,
 “Those are wrinkles, Nora.”
“Ummm,” she responded.  “Why do you have them?”
I decided to go with the short answer.
 “Well, Grammie is getting older, and when you get older you usually get wrinkles.”
That answer was enough for my little granddaughter. She hopped off my lap and skipped off to play with her sisters.

Later that day, while washing my face before bed I glanced at the mirror.  Who was that woman gazing back at me?  She looked familiar, like an older version of the woman staring into the mirror, the one whose body I lived in.  I moved closer to the mirror to have a better look.  Wow, when had all those wrinkles and lines and bumps and puffy areas appeared?  I used my fingers to smooth out the skin around my peepers, yup, that was better.  I could definitely see why some people decided to have a little “work” done on their faces as they aged, but that just isn’t my style.  I released the skin and the wrinkles settled back in like old friends, looking like they had lived there at the sides of my eyes forever.  No wonder Nora had asked about the bumps and lines.  I rummaged through my makeup basket and pulled out the night cream.  Lot of good this is doing, I thought, I was ready to go big guns, wage all-out war against these invaders, and all I had was what was left of the white goo in the bottom of the green jar in the palm of my hand.  I finished at the sink and slipped into bed.  Maybe war wasn’t the answer.

I stared into the darkness, I remembered saying to Nora, “Well, Grammie is getting older, and when you get older you usually get wrinkles.”  It hadn’t bothered me at the moment, but here in the dark, with Bob already snoozing next to me, I realized I really didn’t like the sound of those words.  Being a breast cancer survivor, I am thankful for every day God gives me, and yet, I just wasn’t prepared for aging.  I started thinking about how the lines and creases had etched their way into my face.  Lots of smiling I was sure had caused the lines at the corners, I have lots to smile about.  Fun family times, laughing till I cry with friends and my sisters, weddings, baptisms, new grandbabies, yes, lots of smiling had probably caused those lines.  Some sobering moments and sad moments were likely the reason for some of the puffiness and tired look under my eyes, things like, losing parents, fighting illnesses, worries about the state of the world and the future my children and grandchildren would be facing.  In the dark I realized the lines and wrinkles and furrows were part of a story, the story of my life.

Thankfully I fell asleep deciding it would not be necessary to take up arms against the uninvited signs of aging I had glared at in the mirror that evening.  I decided to embrace them instead.  Don’t get me wrong, I still use my night cream before settling in for the night, but next time one of my little ones notices some new lines or creases on Grammie’s face and wonders why they’re there, I’m just going to say, “honey, those are part of my story!”  I’m just not prepared to age, I’ll deal with that when I’m old-- and who knows when that will be.

Derecho = Terror

I don’t think I’m what you would call the “adventurous” type.  I do like to try new things and experience new places, I like to meet new people and become acquainted with new cultures, and I love learning about all kinds of things.  This week, I learned something new firsthand: I learned what a Derecho is.  According to Wikipedia, a Derecho is, “a widespread and long-lived straight-line windstorm that is associated with a fast-moving band of severe thunderstorms. Derechos are generally convection-induced and take on a bow echo form of squall line. They travel in the direction of movement of their associated storms, similar to an outflow boundary (gust front), except that the wind is sustained and generally increases in strength behind the front. A warm-weather phenomenon, derechos occur mostly in summer, especially June and July in the Northern Hemisphere. They can occur at any time of the year and occur as frequently at night as in the daylight hours.”  My definition of a Derecho is somewhat different. My definition is “sheer terror”.

On Friday evening, June 29th, 2012, I became an adventurer against my will.  Having spent a great evening with Bob watching our beautiful granddaughter Aubree, we headed home in separate cars.  Storms were predicted, but all was calm and dry as we started out.  Within 10 miles of home things changed, suddenly and furiously.  With no warning, my car was slammed into the adjacent lane as 70 mile an hour winds and blinding rain arrived like a high speed train from my left.  Branches and highway barrels bounced around the freeway, narrowly missing those of us frantically trying to stay in our lanes and find safety under underpasses.  The underpass where we sheltered only provided minimal relief. Talking to Bob on the cell phone to plan our next move was next to impossible, as the storm was so loud we had to shout to hear one another.  With tornado predictions forecast on the news station, we headed back on the road, determined to reach home and safe shelter.  Trees and large limbs littered the six-lane freeway, and the wind never once abated.  I thought that my heart would pound right out of my chest (I’m happy to report that it didn’t).  Branches and debris banged against the bottom of my car and at one point we both had to drive under the boughs of a fallen tree that dangled precariously over the barrier wall along the highway, but finally we made it home to a powerless house. I walked into the dark kitchen, hearing the wind still howling around the house, thankful to be alive, and burst into tears.

An hour later the winds abated and residents of the D.C. metropolitan area came out of storm-battered houses to survey the damage—it was extensive.  The high winds felled huge trees, several people were killed when these mighty giants blew down on their houses and cars.  The phones at our roofing business have not stopped ringing since Friday.  And so the cleanup begins.  It will be a long process.  My heart goes out to those who are still without power and dealing with the unrelenting heat that has blanketed the eastern part of the country.  These are the times when neighbors are called to come to one another’s aid.  Those with power can offer warm showers, cool shelter, and become phone charging and internet havens. We can all offer a cold drink to a hot postal carrier or trash collector, check on elderly neighbors who might not be handling the heat well, and help out in a million other ways.   Once again the resiliency of humanity is tested, and with God’s help we will weather the storm.  Stay safe my friends, and know that my future entries will be calmer as I have met my adventure quota for the year!

Babylonian Dream Team

Recently I was asked to chair the decorating committee for our church’s annual Vacation Bible School. Saying no has never come easily for me, but this time, I was not quick in responding.  My job, if I said yes, would mean transforming our ordinary fellowship hall and several cinderblock classrooms into Babylon.  This has not been my best spring and early summer health wise, and I was hesitant to take on the task, but the Lord continued to nudge me toward this commitment.  I’m so thankful He did, as I would have missed out on so many blessings had I not listened to His leading and said “yes”.

(Our church steeple at sunset on opening day of Babylon Bible Camp)


                   (Our Dir. of C M, Dawn in the green below)

                 

First order of business was to meet with our new Director of Children’s Ministries, Dawn.  Having held this position myself for four years at Atonement, I was anxious to get to know Dawn better.  Children’s Ministries holds a special place in my heart as I have served on staff, full time in this capacity at two different churches.  It’s a job that requires a lot of energy, a lot of creativity, flexibility, ability to work with and encourage a large volunteer staff and a million and one other gifts and talents.  Dawn more than meets these criteria (thankfully God equipped me and saw me through my years on the job) and I was delighted to get to know her better.  That “working” lunch was blessing number one I received as committee chair.

                                                                                                            ( Below "Daniel's House")                              
                                                                                           

Having developed a plan, it was time to meet with the committee members.  Interestingly, the committee ended up all women, powerhouses all of them.  I was awed and amazed by their creativity, willingness to serve, self-motivation and joyful spirits as they used their gifts and talents to meet the goals of our team.  Despite working full time outside of the home, Robin, with some help from her husband Mike, built and installed an amazing “city gate” to greet the participants.  Jeri, who also works outside of the home, knowing my energy hasn’t been 100%, took the “shopping list” I had made and purchased everything we needed for the big transformation. Julia spent hours making beautiful stars to lead the Bible campers from the city courtyard area to the craft stalls.   Marta, Debbie and Lynn, all willingly pitched in to make build day happen more smoothly and quickly.   Thankfully, Mike, Chuck, Bob, and Ron lent some extra muscle and reminded me that sometimes being there at the last minute can be a crucial blessing.  And that leads me to blessing two, how inspired I was by working with such a remarkable group of people, it made me want to serve more joyfully and enthusiastically when asked to help or lend a hand in the future.  The work these people did was fantastic, but the attitude in which they served was outstanding.

                          (Below, Daniel, Luke Link, and the Palace Official, Fred Carr)

Finally, with all the decorations in place the doors were opened and the Bible Campers arrived for the first of five evenings in “Babylon”.  As I walked through the “city gate” I was greeted by musicians, chefs and crafters, story tellers,shopkeepers and “tribe leaders” all in Babylonian garb (testimony to another fantastic effort by the seamstresses in the church who made over 40 costumes for the event).  There were happy children making tiny hanging gardens, beading beautiful creations, singing, and listening to the story of Daniel as told by “Daniel” and the “palace official” in “Daniel’s house”.  Blessing three was seeing the fruit of our labor come to life!  All the hard work paid off, once again, when God called he also equipped and inspired, and what a wonderful, delightful outcome occurred.

I love the way God reminds me so often that I am always more blessed when I give, than I am a blessing.  I’m so glad I said yes to being the Decorating Committee Chairperson, I loved the journey to Babylon.  Hope you enjoy some of the pictures from this event.  Hoping also that you are called to be blessed soon in your corner of the world, don’t be afraid to say YES!

                         (Our star maker, Julia and me, below)

Finding Calm on the Porch

“Instead of wondering when your next vacation is, maybe you should set up a life that you don’t need to escape from.” --Seth Godin.

I recently saw this quote and loved it.  What a difference it would make if everyone could create a daily retreat, time away from the stress and the frantic pace so many endure day after day.  Now that summer has arrived I am enjoying more and more time on the screen porch.  It’s here on the porch that I find myself letting go of the ever present worries and anxieties that weigh me down.  Surrounded by trees, flowers, fresh air and lots of wildlife, I’m able to let go.   So for this entry, I thought maybe I’d share some free floating thoughts and word pictures of life as seen from the porch just off my kitchen.  Hoping you can kick back, close your eyes and lose yourself for just a few minutes too.  I’ve snapped a few views from the porch as well . . . enjoy!

Hummingbirds flitting quickly and quietly to sip the ruby nectar in the feeder, they seem almost magical in their approach and quick retreat.  Tiny wings, moving in a blur of neon green and purple.  Can’t help stopping to gaze at them with each one’s visit to dip tiny beaks into the sweetness, which fills them till they next return.

Hydrangea’s, bursting with puffs of color.  Pink, fuchsia, purple, and white, brightening the garden path they line.

Squirrels chasing and frolicking on the fence.  Leaping from branches and performing acrobatics that make me want to applaud.  One minute racing around and around the pine tree trunk, heads and tails bobbing. They are always chattering as they spend themselves in play.  Then, sleeping flattened on the fence top, funny little faces resting, while tiny arms and legs hang sleepily motionless.

White impatiens gleam brightly day and evening and even in the moonlit garden.  Like tiny white stars scattered among the rocks around the pond.  I love to see them glowing under the stars. A night garden is so lovely.

Besides the hummingbirds, robins, doves, cardinals, sparrows, black-capped chick-a-dees, catbirds, cow birds and yellow finches provide entertainment. They love the fountain and wait in line to send the water flying as they dive and dip and bath in the cooling shower.  Then they preen, sitting in the branches above the garden and as the sunsets they sing and perform duets and trios until dusk descends and all becomes very still.

The water from the fountain makes a tiny tinkling sound, gentle, soothing.

Latter in the summer the cicadas will complete the evening choruses with their humming song, high in the trees, calling to mind my childhood in Tennessee and memories of falling asleep with windows open on cool summer nights.

Finally, the fireflies begin to twinkle in the twilight and like the others work their magic.  The day’s cares, the hustle and bustle of life fades and calm comes and soothes.

If you think this was a little dramatic, maybe even boring, a little over done and too poetic, I apologize.  I love the respite I receive on the porch, made even better when shared with Bob.  I hope that you have a gentle place full of wonderful soul soothers where you can find refreshment each day. . . and to think, summer has only just begun.

A Memorial Day Tribute to Mom and Dad

It’s Memorial Day Weekend, and the Stars and Stripes are flying high.  Friends and family across America are gathering around picnic tables and lighting up the grills.  Kids are excitedly taking their first plunges into chilly, early summer pool water, and then warming shivering bodies wrapped in oversized beach towels and sunlight.  It’s time to welcome summer, time to enjoy a long weekend, and most importantly, time to remember those who gave their lives for their country and others who we have loved and lost.

As I write this I’m thinking about my mother and father.   They both passed away in the summer, my mother seven years ago, my father five years ago, on the same date, July 9^th, two years apart.  I still miss them, I keep pictures of them in my Bible, I like looking at their smiling faces when I begin my morning quiet time.  Today I was remembering their hands, funny, but for some reason I started thinking about all that those hands did for me.

My mom had beautiful hands and they were almost always busy.  Her hands were often crocheting, holding a book, cooking (Memorial Day weekend probably stirring homemade chocolate syrup to have served warm over vanilla ice cream), and writing, crafting, gardening, or serving in some way. Her hands could type 120 words per minute and take shorthand, skills that earned her top ranking wherever she worked.  Her hands comforted me when I was injured or sick, patted me when I needed reassurance, and applauded me when I performed or accomplished something.  Her hands held my babies and two of my grandbabies, I wish they could hold all of my grandbabies and her other great grandchildren.  Oh how I love and miss those hands.

My dad had gentleman’s hands; strong, clean, long-fingered hands.  My dad was a thinker, sometimes those hands sat quietly folded in his lap, often on a book or article while he thought.  But those hands weren’t idle hands, they built the calorimeter he designed at Oak Ridge National Laboratory, they wrote reports for Nuclear Regulatory Commission, they gestured when he lectured, and like my mom’s hands they served many others.  His hands steadied me as I learned to ride a bike, jiggled the pan on Sunday nights when he made popcorn, they awed me as he used them to hold test tubes and do Science demonstrations for my elementary school class and my children’s classes too, they held the books he read to me while using funny voices for all the characters, they washed my hair and brushed my teeth when I was a child. His hands penned poetry and lovingly signed carefully chosen birthday and Valentine’s Day cards.  Oh how I love and miss those hands.

I’m looking forward to our extended family cookout this Memorial Day.  There will be three generations celebrating together.  We will enjoy hotdogs and hamburgers from the grill, play yard games, and chat on my sister’s screen porch, the rocking chairs on the porch are coveted seats and are never empty once the weather warms. I’m making a beeline for one of them.  My parents always loved these occasions; they would love seeing all their children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren ages ten years to four weeks old.  I’d gladly give up the rocking chairs to them, if only . . .

My New Book, Holding A Story In My Hands!

Yesterday I had some very special moments.  After years of thinking about, writing, and most recently illustrating a second children’s book, the first print copy arrived on my doorstep.  You might think that was the special moment, but it wasn’t.  I brought the package in, the wrapping was torn off and I sat down holding the book in my hands.  Still, this was not the special moment.  The special moment happened next when my three oldest granddaughters, who were visiting, came and sat by me, and the first reading of the book occurred. 

To have a book idea and pictures floating around in one’s head is fun, but to have that idea on real pages in one’s hand is amazing.  There is just something so satisfying about looking at words and illustrations in a way that can be shared, in print, in color, alive so to speak.  I’m actually thankful that I had over two weeks down time with my broken foot to work on the book. And, I’m very grateful to my friend, Chuck Wasson , for sharing a wonderful iPad application, called Paper53, which allowed me to create the drawings and “paintings” without any mess while couch bound.

My little ones seemed to love the moment too.  The ones who can read each took a turn reading the book aloud to all of us.  My little Nora was able to finish the rhyming words on each page after just a few times listening, she felt like she was “ reading”.  It really was a wonderful moment. It was the moment for which my children’s books have been written, the moment I share the stories with my little ones.

I am also excited to share, “If I Only Had A Penny” with you.  Here is a link to the book, you may preview it, and if you would like an autographed copy let me know and I will send it to you.  If you don’t want it autographed you can purchase it directly from the website. http://www.blurb.com/my/book/detail/3189737   If you purchase from me the prices are slightly less as I buy multiple copies.  Sadly self-published works are expensive, I don't make any profit, but my goal is simply to get the story out there.  Think of the hard cover book as six trips to Starbucks (and you’ll always have the book, whereas the coffee will be gone once you drain the cup) and the soft cover book is the cost of a few less cups of Joe.

Please check it out and let me know what you think of my new “baby”.  I'd give a penny for your thoughts!

P.S.  Here is the link to my first book, "The Moon, The Star, and The Firefly" if you haven't seen that one yet, also available through me or the website.  http://www.blurb.com/my/book/detail/1152367