Build

Rather than resolutions, for several years I participated in the movement that espoused choosing a single word to encapsulate my goals for the coming year.  It has been a while since I have mustered that kind of focus, but this is a year when I feel the need to hone in on what matters to me intently.

Reading Michelle Obama's Becoming this morning, I was struck by a passage she wrote about observing her husband early in their relationship.  He was working with a group of church women in Chicago urging them to band together in their efforts to make positive change.

He was there to convince them that our stories connected us to one another, and through those connections it was possible to harness discontent and convert it to something useful.  Even they, he said--a tiny group inside a small church, in what felt like a forgoteten neighborhood-- could build real political power.

In these words, I found my word.  Build.

The past few years in America and too many other places have been about tearing down.  Tearing down the norms of society and government. Tearing down the illusions of tolerance I thought existed in our country.  Tearing down civil discourse. Tearing down alliances.  Tearing down neighbors and people who don't look, live, or pray just as we do.  An influx of violence and addiction devastatingly tear at the fabric of family.  As a society we lack the patience to fix things and rely too consistently on wiping away altogether what is only in need of repair.

It occurs to me my life is about building.  My professional work is about restoration of lives.  My personal hobbies are about restoration of architecture, community, and beauty.  I long to see things, people made whole.  My motivation is to repair, restore, to build.

This year I resolve to build: my faith, relationships, healthy habits, community, and yes, political power.

Give Me a Break :TToT

We are just back from Oklahoma City where we attended the wedding of a young man we have known for most of his life.  It was a relaxing weekend in a city that holds special memories for us.  Sometimes you don't realize you need to get away until you've had a chance to do it. I think the moral of the story is if you wait to take a break until you know for sure you need one,  you're likely way overdue.

Ten Things of Thankful

The happy couple

Good friends

Good food

Amazing architecture in a city that prides itself on its colorful and unique neighborhoods

Commonplace Bookstore

Pleasant weather

Safe travel

A chance to unwind

Love

Laughter

OK, Oklahoma

OK, Oklahoma,

I am sending you my first born.

She has been dreaming of this moment since she was four.  Then together we have dreamed this moment would take place right there in the heart of Oklahoma City ever since laying eyes on OU’s dental school campus with its green spaces and down-home-friendly folks.

Being a Prairie Girl myself, I know there is more than dentistry she can learn there.  When the wind comes sweeping down the plain as it seems to with far too much frequency and voracity, she will learn resiliency.  When knocked down, she will learn to rise back up.

She will learn to find beauty in the spare.  Looking at the vast horizon she will see past herself and gain perspective of her place in the world.  Looking into the star filled night sky she will make her wishes, and dealing with a land that can be harsh she will gain the strength and wisdom to make those wishes come true.

I am sending her with confidence knowing you will be good for her and to her.  Knowing there is space enough on your plains for her to grow into the woman she is meant to be.  Knowing in Oklahoma she will be OK.

More of my look back to the back to school season five years ago.

TToT: School Social Work Week

It was School Social Work Week.

My co-workers and my school kids showered me with love every day.  I was incredibly touched.  Several co-workers independent of one another chose cards, mementos and treats all in hues of yellow, a color I don't wear or use in decorating. Looking into how color and personality are related, I discovered that yellow is associated with perfectionists who think big and dream of how things could be. I'm good with that.

TToT

My colleagues

My school kids

Their families

Meaningful work

Supportive administrators both at school and in the Social Work Department

The opportunity to dig in the dirt planting tomato seeds

Time spent with my own grown kids this week either face to face or over the phone

Living in the age 

when long distance calls are free

Bookstores

Yellow

Going to the Chapel

Danforth Chapel on the campus of Kansas State University

It is safe to say that I am not the woman that my in-laws envisioned as their son's wife. There were regional differences, religious differences, and political differences.  Despite these differences there was one very fundamental commonality we did share.  We all loved their son.

I do believe that they knew this fact to be true by the end of their lives; they seemed less certain at the outset of ours.

There was much tension during the planning of our nuptials.  To make the day easier on all of us we decided to have a small wedding for immediate family only.  We would hold it in the "all faiths" chapel on the campus where we met.

The morning of the wedding there were a few last minute details to see to.  My groom and I had agreed to tackle the tasks together, but he could not be reached that morning. Miffed, I finished the jobs on my own and prepared myself for the ceremony.

It wasn't until much later that I learned he was tackling something much more difficult than any of the tasks I had in mind.  He was standing up to the parents he loved as they attempted to persuade him not to go through with the wedding.

While waiting with my sisters for our cue to enter the chapel word came that the men of the bridal party were ready whenever we were.

As I stepped into the aisle at the back of the chapel, I linked arms with my dad and took a deep breath.  I looked up and saw the man I loved waiting for me.  He looked small and uncertain until he looked into my eyes.

A smile crossed his face and lines crinkled in the corners of his eyes.  I stepped forward moving towards him, moving towards our future.  The closer I came to both, the tighter my chest felt.

I was overwhelmed with emotion.  When it came time for my vows I could not speak. My tears flowed unchecked.  Silently, he reached into the pocket on the inside of his tux and removed a white handkerchief.  Gently, while looking into my eyes and smiling he wiped my tears away.

Struggling, I could only speak loudly enough to make my vows known to the kindly priest.  That was enough.  He proclaimed us husband and wife.

What God has joined together, let no man put asunder.  Thirty-three years, one month and nine days later no man has.

In that time there have been many tears, some of joy, some of sorrow.  Without fail, my wonderful husband has been right by my side to dry my eyes.

For my valentine:  When love is certain it can overcome obstacles.  In overcoming obstacles, love becomes more certain.

TToT: Holding onto Hope

We had tickets to the symphony last night.  I was tired, and not in the least enthusiastic about leaving the house on a bitterly cold night that was promising to become icy.  In the end I was glad I did.

The program was a celebration of Black History Month.  It opened with pieces from Porgy and Bess; Gershwin is consistently good for my soul. Another set featured pieces by William Grant Sills, the first African-American to compose an opera.

Hands down my favorite part of the night was a powerful delivery of Martin Luther King Jr.'s I Have a Dream speech.  As the poetry of the words spoken in the rich tones of Richard Todd Payne's voice filled the auditorium, the symphony played Precious Lord, Take My Hand and We Shall Overcome in the background. The effect was incredibly moving.  Any residual hesitation about leaving the comfort of my home I might have still clung to melted away as Payne spoke of the symphony of brotherhood and my heart felt a sense of hope for our country that it hadn't felt in a long time.

Ten Things of Thankful

Gershwin

Music that soothes the savage soul

The wise and lovely words of Martin Luther King Jr

A reminder that this country has faced difficult times filled with hate and anger in the past, and has managed to weather the storm

A closely related reminder that this too shall pass

Strong voices who lead in peace through example

Winter

The arts

The company of my husband

My community

TToT: Shakespeare and Company

It is not my usual habit to include material items in my count of things I feel thankful for, but the parcel that arrived via Deutsche Post today represents much more than the material.

In November I saw an Instagram post from Shakespeare and Company, an English bookstore in Paris.  The post explained The Year of Reading program offered by the bookstore.  Shakespeare & Co employees would package their recommended reads for the lucky participant to discover in their mailbox throughout 2018.  Immediately I sent the post on to my daughters who received it politely, but with far less enthusiasm than I would have anticipated.  So, I thought maybe it was just me who found the concept intriguing.  I mulled it over for days finally deciding that I was not comfortable spending the amount being charged on a gift for myself.

What I didn't realize until Christmas was that one daughter had seen the same post minutes before I did.  She had already shared it with her sister, and they were discussing what a perfect gift it would make for me as they received my forwarded post. They were getting in touch with their brother and father and didn't need me complicating their plans.  

The first of three installments arrived today.  It did not disappoint.  The attention to detail in the packaging made my heart race just opening the box.  Literary quotes cover the wrappings.

The bags are sealed with the company logo, and it is also stamped inside each book.  Each of the books is wrapped with a note from the staff person who chose it explaining why they picked this particular book for the package.

Tucked inside each book is a bookmark featuring a different photographic image from the bookstore.  On a sheet of stationery a poem has been typed on an old typewriter in the store.  A poem is tucked into each book.  One of the books is even signed by the author.

Everything about this package was meant to make a literary nerd's heart swoon...and it succeeded.  

Which brings me to my list of Ten Things of Thankful this week:

For books and for words that have the power to move me.
For talented writers.

For Paris and memories of browsing at Shakespeare and Company.  For grown children who are intrepid world travelers and have encouraged me to be as well.

For the four incredible and generous people I am lucky enough to claim as my family.  They are the very best gifts of all. 

                                                                            TToT

I am cheating a bit. The Last Nice Thing Someone Did for You was one of the prompts for the Writer's Workshop this week.  I saw the prompts right after posting this piece, and knew it works for that prompt as well.

A Manuscript at Last

Book Review of Sorts

http://www.mamakatslosinit.com

Dreams spring forth from the hopeful heart, and the hopeful heart is a happy heart.  Dreams can only mature to reality once they've seen the light of day.  If I name my dream--type it here on the screen, there is no turning back; I will be committed to seeing it through.  At the very least, I will have to make a wholehearted attempt whether I fail or succeed.  My whole life I have avoided risks for fear of failing and looking foolish in other's eyes.  Yet, real failure comes not in trying and falling short, but in never trying at all.  Today I am screwing up my courage and naming the dream I am ready to pursue. I will write a daily devotional book featuring reflections I have written and shared at church as well as additional  essays I have never shared publicly before.  In naming my dream I've moved outside my comfort zone into the place where growth can happen.

With those words I made a New Year's resolution in 2013.  Five years later I am proud to say that I have completed a manuscript.  I have written 365 daily devotions which I hope people will find inspiring and useful in moving towards deeper spirituality.  

It feels so weighty as I hold it in my hands.  Partly, because it is three hundred ninety-three pages, partly because it represents nearly a decade of my life, it is a big deal to me.  This book has been a labor of love.  Because I see God in the everyday, the book is filled with stories about the people and places I love and the ways that God's presence influences all my experiences and relationships.

I have begun the process of editing and clean-up.  I have names of a couple of people to speak to for guidance about publishing; friends of friends, they will be hearing from me soon.  I am hopeful they will be willing to point me in the right direction to begin a process I know absolutely nothing about and find daunting.  But for today I will celebrate.  A dream I have had for long before I made it known to others, is coming true. Whatever, else happens I did what I set out to do.  I wrote a book.

The Get-Away

I stand at my closet wondering what to take.  After twenty-eight years of marriage we will soon go away together for the very first time and I am giddy as a schoolgirl.

There is a long stretch of life when you are pulled between your children’s needs and your parent’s needs.  Not wanting to short change either, it is easy for your own needs and your marriage to be put on hold.

There is sadness in our nest emptying when it has been such a joy to have it full and lively.  There is certainly an emptiness in my life that was once filled by my parents.  But life is rarely all black or white.  As if to prove my point, rain is falling on the dry, parched earth outdoors.  The sun is hiding behind a blanket of clouds.  Today there is gray, and in the gray I find renewal.  As the fallow earth drinks in the healing moisture falling from the heavens I understand that loss, though painful, also makes room for other things in our lives.  Those other things can help us heal.  I look forward to this time alone with my husband, prepared to drink in every moment.  Prepared for renewal.

(Written in 2013, shared again today in honor of our 33rd anniversary.)

Ideal Christmas

December 2014 Mama Kat question of the week: How would you spend your dream Christmas if money was no issue? 

The leg lamp from A Christmas Story has resurfaced in Georgetown, TX.

With or without money I wouldn’t change a single thing about the way my family celebrates Christmas.  We are together Christmas Eve through all of Christmas Day relaxing, baking, eating, laughing and enjoying one another’s company.  There is always someone one of us knows through work or school who we have noticed needs a little extra encouragement at Christmas time.  We prepare gifts and then scheme ways to deliver them to our chosen person or family without getting caught.  During quiet moments on Christmas Day, I wonder how those folks may have felt about their unexpected good fortune this year.

Nothing stays the same forever.  It won’t  be long before our Christmas celebrations are shortened or changed to accommodate spouses and in-laws.  Any number of unforeseen circumstances could impact our ability to be together in the way we are now.  It isn’t an elaborate Christmas Day I dream of, and I have no particular need for it to be white; instead I pray for another Christmas observed in the same simple way that has made us happy in the past.

TToT: After Christmas

I wrote this post December 27, 2014.  We had just returned from Germany by way of a security detention in Toronto.  The Germans understood two men with the same name, my husband and son, boarded the plane in Frankfurt.  The Canadians found it suspicious that two passengers with the same name arrived in Toronto.  They detained my son for an extended period, causing us to miss our flight back to the US. Meanwhile, my daughters had arrived home from school to an empty house that they transformed into a Christmas Wonderland.

Once the Canadians released us so we could continue our journey home, Christmas was wonderful.  Ten things about it that make me thankful:

We arrived home to a house filled with treats and Christmas cheer created through the efforts of my daughters.

The chance to see what Christmas traditions the girls deemed indispensable in our absence.

My son is back from Germany; and the time we got to spend with him there was exceedingly fun.

Safe travel despite the Toronto Airport’s best efforts to derail us.

US soil.  It is good to be home.

Christmas carols, Christmas lights, Christmas gifts, Christmas joy.

#891-900 of my 1000 Gifts

Santa Claus is Coming to Town

Reflecting on Christmas seasons that have come and gone brought back the memory of Christmas-time 2014 in Germany where we discovered a fun tradition in that part of the world seen in this post I wrote at the time...





We have seen many lighted trees outside homes in Germany, but not any lights on the houses themselves.  The towns and cities are draped in strings of lights, but homes are very simply decorated with the exception of the occasional Santa Claus scaling the wall to gain access.  These guys are everywhere.

He arrives a little differently in Germany than America perhaps, but Santa is definitely coming!

Christmas Lights

Remembering Christmas as a child with a 2012 prompt from Bigger Picture Blogs.

Slender strings of silver tinsel shone on the tree, reflecting the colorful cheer of the bulbous lights.  I would stand by the tree mesmerized by the beauty.  A moth to the flame, I could not help myself.  I wanted to capture a bit of the glow in the palm of my hand and tuck it away to be brought out again some dark winter's day when I needed light and color.

Inevitably, I would touch a bulb, scorching my skin.  Quickly, I'd place my finger in my mouth wetting it to relieve the pain.  My eyes would fill with tears from the burning, fragmenting the colors into a kaleidoscope of beauty.

I must have managed to capture a bit of that light in my chubby hand long ago. I close my eyes on this dark winter's day and I can see the glow.

Love and Joy Come to You

Legend says as the American West was being settled by pioneers,  a candle was often left burning in a window after dark.  This marked the cabin as a safe place to stop for rest.  For the past week I have been anticipating the arrival of my three grown kids from various places.  I’ve had a candle on the window sill as a happy reminder they would soon be home.

Ice has been our family nemesis this holiday season.  The oldest slipped out of Oklahoma between threats of ice.  The youngest had me on pins and needles arriving along with the ice here.  And the middle child is bunking down in a strange hotel in Chicago.  She made it that far from Paris, but can get no closer to home since the rest of the route is ice covered.  And now snow has started.  Not the fluffy, flakey snow, but the kind that pelts you in the face stinging with every blow.  It mocks me as I hear it bounce on the roof making me wonder if air travel is going to be any better tomorrow.

But we are all safe and warm.  We all have a comfortable bed to sleep in even if it is not under the same roof tonight.  We will be together soon.  For now I will content myself with some Christmas music, the cheer of the candle in the window, and the knowledge that the snow outside will look so much prettier when we are all together.

Good master and good mistress,
As you sit beside the fire,
Pray think of us poor children
Who wander in the mire.
Love and joy come to you,
And to you your wassail, too,
And God bless you, and send you
A Happy New Year,
And God send you a Happy New Year

(The Wassail Song)

Written in 2013 as my daughter made her way home from study abroad in Paris.  Tonight she is headed home once more--this time from North Carolina.

City Sidewalks, Busy Sidewalks

I was already starting to dream of Christmas the October we were in Paris…especially walking along the sidewalks jam-packed with shops filled with enticing things to buy and to eat.  Christmas lights and decorations were just beginning to go up while we were there making me imagine snow crunching underfoot and the hustle and bustle of the season that was yet to come.

City sidewalks busy sidewalks .

Dressed in holiday style

In the air

There’s a feeling

of Christmas

Strings of street lights

Even stop lights

Blink a bright red and green

As the shoppers rush

home with their treasures

Silver bells, silver bells

It’s Christmas time in the city

Ring-a-ling, hear them ring

Soon it will be Christmas day

Scenes from our Paris trip 2013

Ornaments

The first year I was a mother I had an idea at Christmas time.  I would give my child, and later children, a special ornament each Christmas.  By the time they were grown they would each have a nice collection to hang on their very own tree.

We have had a fun time building their collections.  Every year we enjoy unwrapping these special ornaments from storage and hanging them on the tree while we recall who they were given to and when.

I have put off taking down the tree this year.  This is the first year that I need to sort out the oldest child’s ornaments and set them apart.  She is all grown up now and will likely have her very own tree next Christmas.

As I lay each ornament aside my memory takes me back in time.  I remember a baby who loved Mickey Mouse, a growing girl who was as much an American Girl as her dolls by that name, a ballerina,  a Harry Potter devotee.  Each ornament pinpoints her growth and her personality.  It is a bittersweet experience looking at the pile of ornaments that has grown on the mantle as I disassemble the tree.

I ache for how quickly time has gone, but I smile picturing her very own Christmas tree covered in ornaments I know so well. The thing about life is that it can go exactly as you had hoped and planned and still in that anticipated moment find you so unprepared that it takes your breath away.

Christmas 2013

The Christmas Tree

During some downtime this weekend I thumbed through the Christmas edition of some home magazines.  Each one was filled with images of lovely themed trees: all gold trees, poinsettia-only trees,  trees of ribbons, trees of pieces of nature brought indoors.  I thought about these carefully planned and executed themed trees as I sat on the couch admiring the tree we had just adorned.  Is there rhyme or reason to our tree?

I have spent my entire adult life working with children.  So, the tree is covered with ornaments children have gifted me with because they found them lovely.

Later we became parents and our own children made special ornaments which capture stages of their growth.

Through it all we have been blessed with friends who have honored us with gifts fashioned with their own hands.

The result is somewhat messy, like life itself.  It is a reflection of people we have loved and who have loved us back.  It is a culmination of the years.  As I look at our tree covered in a mishmash of ornaments– some simple construction paper, some gaudy glitz– I am content.  I would like to think the theme of this particular Christmas tree is life well lived.