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Home, Sweet Home

Jan29

This post is a part of my 10-Minute Tuesday series. I write for 10 minutes on a one-word prompt, without heavy editing, and see what happens. Today’s prompt is “cross country.”

I have a picture of the Golden Gate Bridge on my Discover Card, so I get to see it often.In 1991, my husband, David, and I moved from California to Florida. We were working as missionaries with Campus Crusade for Christ (known as Cru in the U.S.) and the leadership had decided to move our headquarters.

I wasn’t in favor of the idea.

IMG_8307I’m a Californian born and raised. All of my family lived no further east than Colorado. I was leaving everything familiar to relocate across the country. Even my husband wasn’t yet all that familiar. We’d only been married for 6 months.

But move cross country we did. The organization provided a moving company that packed up what we wouldn’t need in the immediate, we had both our cars loaded on to transports, and we headed to the airport in Los Angeles with my kitty in a carrier, drugs at the ready to keep her calm.

Only, we missed our flight, so the drugs wore off halfway through the trip. The stress finally got to me, and I cried there at the gate of the airport.

IMG_5453But, we made it to Orlando and found our way to our new apartment sometime in the wee hours of the night. We were starving, but this was in the days before there were so many restaurants on the road from the airport, so we couldn’t find anywhere to eat.

When we got to our apartment, we noticed that it was not the one the complex had promised us. The teal carpet gave it away the minute we walked in the door. So, we somehow camped out on the floor (the details are fuzzy after 27 years), my cat hiding behind the washer and dryer, and tried to get some sleep.

The next morning, we visited the office and notified them that they had given us the wrong apartment. After asking whether we could live with the teal carpet (no, it would clash with every piece of furniture we owned), we were relocated to a slightly bigger apartment with a lake view at the same price because it was their error.

Everything worked out and we lived that first year plus a few months in that apartment with the grey carpet and the lake view. And we have now been in Orlando for 27+ years. My parents have passed away, my brother is my only family left in California, and our 3 kids call themselves Floridians, though each one of them seems to think they were born for a colder clime.

Go figure.

I love my house, I love my church, I love my friends. I still long for California.

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If I could pick up everything that I have here (minus the humidity) and move it back to the hills of Oakland, I would do it in a minute. But that’s not where I’m supposed to be. Everything that matters is here in hot, humid, flat Orlando. I can allow myself to be discontent, or I can embrace my space and trust that I am exactly where God wants me.

After 27 years, I’ve lived in Florida almost as long as I lived in California. My heart would be very cold and hard if I allowed my yearning for a state to overshadow my joy at being “home.”

I can always pretend the cloud formation in the distance are mountains if I squint long enough.

 

A Rare Moment In Time and Space

Jan22

This post is part of my 10-Minute Tuesday series. I write for 10 minutes with no heavy editing on a 1-word prompt. Today’s word is “gaze.”

Sunday night was a super blood wolf moon, which, to my untrained self, meant January’s full moon (wolf), that was going to appear bigger and brighter because the moon was at its closest point to Earth during the month (super) and there would be a total eclipse making it look red (blood).

I think I got that right.

I didn’t even attempt pictures this year. This is from March 2011

Anyway, my astronomy-loving son was home from college for the long weekend, and we were looking forward to watching it together, late though it would be on the East Coast. We also had my 1-year-old grandson with us, but he should be soundly sleeping at that hour.

Or so I thought.

Turns out, just when things were getting interesting with the eclipse, baby Zayne woke up crying. When this has happened in the past at this point in his sleep cycle, calming him and then putting him down to go back to sleep didn’t work. But I figured he should be picked up by his parents soon and would be on his way home before the totality of the eclipse occurred.

Again, or so I thought.

As I held Zayne and he slept in my arms, the clock kept up its unrelenting march across time, and I saw my opportunity to watch this rare phenomenon in person slip away.

And then I gazed at Zayne.

His breathing steady, his little breath ever so slightly whistling through his tiny nose. And I marveled. And I thanked God that I had this opportunity to be with Zayne. Eclipses and wolf moons and super moons would all come around again, but there would be only one Zayne. Only one January 20th, 2019, when I could hold him and rock him and let him sleep.

I ended up being able to see the moon just past totality as my eldest son came and picked up Zayne a little after midnight. So I stood in the front yard while my younger son pointed out some stars that he had been able to identify and we shivered as we gazed at that marvelous night sky with that bright, blood red moon.

And I rejoiced.

Yes, the glory of God can be seen when we gaze at the heavens, but He is right there when we gaze at the face of one made in His image.

Believe It Or Not

Jan15

This post is a part of my 10-Minute Tuesday series, where I write for just 10 minutes, without heavy editing, and see what I get. Each post is based on a prompt given to me by a reader.

 “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1 English Standard Version).

I’ve been reading the Gospel of Mark lately. Lots and lots of things happen in the book of Mark. People are healed, authorities are challenged, parables are told. As in all the gospel narratives, one things always seems to stand out: the need for faith.

Above, I quoted a Bible verse that gives a definition of faith, but just after that, a little more is given: “And without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him” (Hebrews 11:6).

From Jesus’ questioning of the people who wanted to be healed to His wisdom when speaking to the religious leaders, it’s apparent that what He wanted was for people to have faith—in Him and in the plan His Father had for the redemption of the world.

“Repent and believe,” “your faith has made you whole,” “come and follow Me.”  All these are things Jesus said to the people He encountered. And yet, so many questioned. “Who is this man? Is he not Joseph’s son? Isn’t this the carpenter?”

They were short-sighted and hard-hearted. Jesus’ words could stir the hearts of those who heard them. Something deep within them told them that He was speaking the truth. But hard hearts have a hard time being stirred.

Have you ever tried to stir butter that has not been set out on the counter to soften? Or mold clay that has sat too long and gotten hard? Not easy, is it? If we let our hearts become hard, whether due to disappointment or discouragement or rebellion, we will have a hard time being stirred by God’s words to us. Faith will be hard to find.

Jesus encountered many lepers. Mark records an instance in which one leper came to Jesus and said, “If you will, you can heal me.” Jesus was moved by compassion and touched the man. Touched him! A leper! And made him well. The leper had faith and Jesus had compassion.

God simply wants us to believe that He is who He says He is and that He can do what He says He can do. Are you willing?

Curious About Curiosity

Dec19

This post is part of my 10-minute Tuesday collection. Today is Wednesday, I know, I know, but yesterday got away from me. So today’s prompt is the word “curiosity.” Written in 10 minutes, no big edits, just free flow writing. Here we go.

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Besides killing the cat, what else does curiosity do?

As a journalist for many years, I was expected to be curious about people. I was going to be writing their stories, after all. I found in that job that I wasn’t a very curious person. I like people, and I liked listening to their stories, but I wasn’t very good at asking questions.

Kids are instinctively curious. Spend some time around a 3-year-old, and you will figure that out pretty quickly. Why? Why do I have to go to bed? Why does the dog drink his water that way? Why does the cat lick herself? Why do I have to eat my peas?

And then it gets harder. Why do I have to learn algebra? I’m never going to need it in real life! haha I’ve heard that plenty of times.

Answering our kids questions to the best of our ability will help ensure that they maintain that curiosity throughout their lives. If they are shut down, they will stop asking questions. Can it get tiring? You bet. But a gentle answer about maybe how that question can be answered another time might help.

I’m a big tech fan. I love using my computer and my smart phone, my iPad and my Apple Watch. But I’m only slightly curious as to how they work, whereas I have a son who will take things apart to figure out how they work. I have another son who read copious amounts about nature and animals, and he is our go-to person when we have a question about a species or geography or things like that. I also have a daughter who is attuned to people and likes to know what makes them tick.

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Curiosity leads to creativity, it seems to me. Curious people say, “If we could put these things together in a certain way, I wonder what would happen.” Creating new recipes, or works of art, or works of literature, all these have an element of curiosity in them. I was recently part of a conversation about writing fiction, and one of the principles the authors agreed upon was that being a people watcher was important to building good characters in your writing. Being curious about what they’re like and what their stories are will help you create a believable world.

I have an 11-month-old grandson who is not yet talking, but we’re gearing up for the “why” stage. I hope that I am able to have all the patience I need to feed his curious nature so that his creativity can grow strong.

Oh, and the second part of that old saying I started with? Curiosity killed the cat? But satisfaction brought it back!

 

Parenting By Osmosis

Dec11

This post is part of my 10-Minute Tuesday series. Today the prompt is “osmosis.” Let’s see what I can do with that.

IMG_0191My 11-month-old grandson is getting about by himself these days, so we’re having to be more vigilant in the hours that we take care of him. One of the things he loves to do is check on our parakeets in their cage. And by “checking” I mean banging repeatedly on the side and squealing when they move about.

I know that loud noises like that are not good for the birds, so I am constantly having to tell him to be gentle. But I know that just saying “gentle” isn’t going to get the point across since he doesn’t know what the word means. So I take his hand and put it softly on the side of the cage while saying, “Gentle, Zayne, you need to be gentle with the birdies.”

As soon as I remove my hand, bang! bang! bang! He’s at it again. So I need to move him from near the cage to some other activity.

LLIW+lRCRBSRCaKubl4MWQThe same goes with the cats. One of his favorite things to do is put his head down on their soft fur and stick his thumb in his mouth, using them as living pillows. Again, we say, “be gentle, Zayne,” but we also know that the cats have the ability to run away if they’re not happy with how they’re being treated.

I know, though, that I can’t just sit on the couch and tell Zayne to be gentle. He’s not going to get the idea simply through osmosis. His learning is going to have to be hands on training. So I sit with him and guide him, knowing that at just 11 months old, he’s not going to completely grasp the concepts I’m trying to teach him. It will take time.

But we can go through a lot of parenting that way. If we say it often enough, our kids will just get it. Somehow, their brains will be able to assimilate the information simply by hearing it over and over.

“Improve your attitude!”

What’s an attitude?

“You need to show more respect!”

What’s respect?

“Be more careful!”

What’s being careful?

I asked my 19-year-old the other day when we were playing with Zayne if he remembered everything he didn’t know when he was Zayne’s age. Obviously, the question was not serious, and his answer of, “Um, I don’t think that’s how it works,” acknowledged that, but the point remains. Unless we are training our children, they’re not just going to suddenly understand what we mean.

We see that every day with Zayne, and we need to understand that others in our world—and we ourselves—don’t simply learn by osmosis, but by hands-on, down-on-the-floor with them training.

After all, haven’t we always heard that actions speak louder than words?