Where I'm from

In one of my loops we were challenged to work the Where I'm from template, by George

Ella Lyon. You can find a link to the poem, and a template here: http://www.swva.net/fred1st/wif.htm 


The following is my version - 

Where I'm from - 

I’m from an egg yolk, from the egg white and the skillet. 

I‘m from a father built home, full of imagination, desire and fear. 

I’m from the bluebonnets, the cedars and the hot blazing sun. 

I‘m from holidays and stubbornness, from Mamaw of banana pudding and plaster of paris and from Papaw of long tales and great inventiveness and from Jesus.

I’m from speaking your mind and standing for your beliefs. 

From the worlds of my own creations and the destiny I foretold.

I’m from the front pew of worship, from God’s word freely shared, from God’s spirit blowing gently by.

I'm from Duncanville, from Texas, from Georgia, from Colorado,  from green fried tomatoes and Dr. Pepper.

From the anticipation of hospital waiting rooms, and coughing in the night, and waiting alone in the dark. 

I am from hot attics, crumbling scotch tape and engraved hearts. 

Vincent van Gogh and Don McLean

Today in History 29, July 1890, Artist Vincent van Gogh died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound in Auvers, France, at age 37 

I am drawn to van Gogh’s work more than any other artist. Each piece brings me great peace and belonging. It is hard for me to separate my thoughts of his work from Don McLean’s song, Starry, Starry Night.  When I think of the paintings, the song comes to mind. When I think of the song, I see the paintings in the back of my mind. 

Although, I love Starry, Starry Nights, my favorite is Irises. The one white iris in a field of blue speaks to me it is okay to be different. 

For the most part I don’t search for meaning in his work. I allow myself to be drawn into the beauty.  And, oh, how his beauty draws me. 

What torment to have so much to say and no one to encourage you. 

Who in your life of beauty needs encouragement today? Will you reach out to those who bring you love and joy? 

Click to see van Gogh’s work and hear Don McLean sing

'Book'ed Out

I never thought I would say this, but I am ‘book’ed out. 

I recently received a “preferred customer” catalogue from Christian Book Distributors. Usually, I longingly read it from cover to cover. I couldn’t bare to open this catalogue. 

Never in my life have I had so many stacks of unread books in my library. Over half of the books are signed by the authors, who are now folks in my contact files and friends. 

This feeling started this spring at the Church Library State Conference, three days of talking about books, a gym full of books for sale hosted by Lifeway and Barnes and Noble and tables of authors and their books. Saturday morning this booked out feeling came over me as I walked into the gym. I could not look at another book or speak to another author. Don’t worry, my trunk was full of purchases from the day before, but, oh, this was such a sinking feeling. 

I wish I could lay my hand on the cover and do a mind meld with the book, drawing the contents into my head. Now, it is not enough to read the book. I need to write a review for each book. And I want to write about the books. 

Yet, suddenly, I am back in 3rd grade. My teacher held a reading contest. To participate,     you read the book and produced a book report, which could either be written, drawn or given orally. My competitive choleric traits kicked in and I read up a storm. I quickly learned both the written report and the drawing required you to actually produce something, while the likelihood of giving an oral report was slim, since we never had any extra time in the classroom. You can guess how I filled out the index cards regarding the report type I had chosen. I not only won the contest, I won the joy of reading and the ability to find a way to use the rules to my advantage. 

Spending the last week at the hospital, away from my stacks of books, I discovered I’m not as booked out as I thought, I managed to order another stack from CBD’s MidWeek email. Oh, well...

My Dad’s hospital cup collection

My Dad grew up in the 30’s during the depression. He is somewhat a hoarder. Here in the hospital, he is hoarding drink cups and silverware. Since he can’t get out of bed on his own, he is afraid he is going to need a spoon or a drink and they won’t be there. His bedside tray often has 3 or 4 cups, plastic and paper. Some are full, some half-full. He is driving the hospitality staff crazy.

The sight of his collection reminds me of the widow in 2 Kings whom Elisha told to go borrow all the jars she and her son could from the neighbors. Then she started pouring  her small jar of oil and filled all the jars they had collected. 

I remind Dad that no matter how many cups he saves, his ice tea will not multiply.   

Today in 1969, was an exciting day for me

July 19, 1969  Apollo 11, with Neil Armstrong, Edwin "Buzz" Aldrin and Michael Collins on board, went into orbit around the moon.Then on July 20, 1969, astronaut Neil Armstrong became the first man to walk on the moon.




The Eagle has landed


One Small step for man

What a moment! In 2 months, I would be a high school senior. It wouldn’t be much longer and the world would be at my door step. Reaching the moon gave me encouragement for my future.


Even Snoopy joined in the celebration declaring "The moon is made of American cheese!" 

After lifetime of reading science fiction, I was ready for a brave, new world. It was now waiting for me. It was a world full of possibilities.  


This post was originally posted last year, but I have updated it this year. 

Circle of friends

The hospital has a huge aquarium in the surgery waiting room. Waiting through Dad’s surgery, I watched a touching scene as two fish stood guard over a sick buddy. The sick fish was for the most part floating on his side, but his fins were moving. He was at the back of a large rock. One buddy swam next to him. For most of the time, the other stayed below the rock and guarded the rear approach. Many of the other fish inn the aquarium circled, waiting to attack. 

It was a beautiful story to watch while waiting for news of the unknown. It was a great reminder of the circle of friends, seen and unseen, that surround us.  

The spinning effect of multitasking

Whenever I think I have fully recovered from chemo, something happens to remind of how devastating the effects were on me. This week, my Dad fell and broke his hip. I’ve been staying with him at the hospital. My Mom is home bound and my brother was in New Mexico and Colorado with his family on vacation. There have been days when people and decisions have rapidly come into our room, and not always before the last item was finished or the person had left.  

Before the chemo, I was a pro at multitasking; not so much any more. One of the lessons I learned is multitasking is probably not the best answer; it’s not a skill I’m working to regain. However, there are times you need to be able to follow more than one thread at a time. Last week was one of those times. 

When I am presented with more than 1 option, my mind begins to spin out of control. I’m used to this when I create the options. I’ve been following Sarah Young’s advice from Jesus Calling, to ask Jesus to take control of my mind. Last week, it was outside forces coming at me. There were times I had to make myself stop to breathe.  

Dad is getting better every day. But, none of us really want to come to grips with how long it is going to take for him to recover, what it is going to mean for the structure of our everyday lives, and how log he and Mom are going to be apart. 

My review of The Muir House, by Mary DeMuth

The Muir House, Mary DeMuth, Zondervan, pages 322

Mary DeMuth’s latest book, The Muir House, continues her legacy of delivering strong, contemporary drama. The story enfolds as Hale Landon’s marriage proposal creates a unique intersection of where Willa Muir faces an invitation to return to an unsettled past,  a burning present (literally) and the potential of a wonderful future and home. Before Willa can confidently step into Hale’s proposal, she must face the unresolved secrets of her past. She hopes to find keys to unlock her heart in her childhood home, The Muir House in Rockwell, Texas.

Muir House was a Funeral Home when Willa was growing up. Her bedroom was next door to the embalming room, a circumstance which by itself should justify years of therapy. With her father dead and her mother in a nursing facility, the family caretaker, Genie Skye, is turning the house into a bed and breakfast. Mrs. Skye has asked Willa, who is an interior decorator, to return to Rockwell and assist with repurposing the house.   

Back in Rockwell and Muir House, everywhere Willa turns she finds clues to all the questions she has; clues which both entice and terrorize her. All of her questions dissolve into this challenge: will she be strong enough to follow the clues and accept the answers? 

Hale Landers faces his own dilemma when Willa doesn’t immediately accept his marriage proposal. His offer to provide Willa a loving home, forces Willa to seek what home and family means to her. While Willa journeys to Rockwell, he finds his own mission in New Orleans while he waits and wonders what the future holds.    

Regional fiction is not something we are used to in North Texas. It adds a layer of reality,  which can be disturbing if the subject matter is difficult. It is so much easier to think, thank goodness that kind of thing doesn’t happen here. Regional fiction should be a delight to read. I appreciate this was located near my home turf. I hope we see more fiction located in North Texas.    

The haunting power of Mary DeMuth’s fiction, for me, comes in the layering of the tale to be more than Willa’s story.  Her tentacles of faith and relationships reach past Willa’s circumstances and encircle my heart, bringing me to walk beside Willa asking my own questions. We all have remembered places where we heard and saw words and things adults did and said. We understood the words, but it was their unspoken intentions that still haunts us.

  

If you are looking for a happy, feel good story, this is not the book for you. But, if you are ready to read a story of a woman’s search for meaning and security, you’ve found a home.  

While I did receive a free copy of the book from Zondervan and the author in exchanged for a review, I had already pre-ordered the book in eager anticipation of another DeMuth book.  

City Lights

My Dad’s room is in one of the large newly designed rooms at our local hospital. Our window faces north toward the city. I’m sitting on the window seat couch  that makes into a bed enjoying the vista of the lights of the southern part of Dallas with the outline of  downtown on the horizon. For the moment, I’m imagining I’m writing in a small writer’s loft in a big city. 

At home, the only lights shining on my forest views are during the seasons of the full moon and lightning bugs. It is peaceful there. For the moment, this city vista is intriguing. I love flying at night. I love to see the patterns of community life, to follow the straight lines of our destinies etched in the landscape. 

It makes me wonder, what are the stories are unfolding before my eyes. 

I have a design in mind for a needlework piece on black fabric with millions of french knots dotting the sky. 

There is a 24 hour Walmart across the street. There are just about the same number of cars in the parking lot no matter what the time of day. It seems odd to me. 

John and Paul met in 1957

AP Highlight in History: 

On July 6, 1957, John Lennon and Paul McCartney met for the first time as teenagers at a church in their native Liverpool, England, following a performance by Lennon's band, the Quarrymen.

Isn’t it amazing how God works? One day, he brought John and Paul to the same church, and wonderful music ensued. Granted they didn’t turn out to be ‘Christian’ performers, and their lifestyles were far from being imitated. 

Still, we were all touched by some, if not all, of their music. For those of us, who came to adulthood in the 60’s, they often spoke our hearts. 

Knowing they met in a church, gives me a different perspective about their partnership. 

What about you?