Four Days Isn’t Long Enough but I’ll Take It

"Two people are better off than one, for they can help each other succeed. If one person falls, the other can reach out and help. But someone who falls alone is in real trouble." (Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 NLT)

Next year my husband and I will celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary. Being in our early 20s when we tied the knot means we've known each other way longer than we haven't. Ed and I consider each other as our best friend. So to be apart for any length of time is not our favorite way to go. But the work situation has made it necessary. Thus when the opportunity arose for Ed to be here with me for four days last week, we took advantage of that. 

Grateful that the renovation job will come to an end and we will be together full time soon.

Having been introduced to Latte' Da, a local coffee shop, by my friend Kristia the week before, Ed and I made it our morning routine. Definitely enjoyed the atmosphere here and will return often.

 

Exploring our new-to-us environs included walking around in The Village at Meridian. It will be fun to visit again when all the holiday decorations are up.

Maybe Santa will reside here

I'd also like to see the fountain with its colored lights at night. Meanwhile the fall foliage is very eye-pleasing.

Fountain at The Village

Indian Creek reflections

Indian Creek is nearby in Kuna and we took our time meandering on the trail, filling our eyes with points of interest.

At Indian Creek

 

Meanwhile I have kept busy. Getting the house organized and finding places for everything is ongoing. And having some social time with friends, celebrating the 16th birthday of one of their four daughters on Saturday, was really nice. 

Then on Sunday visiting Rockharbor Church with my sister-in-law was quite an experience. It's a mega church in Meridian with several worship services every weekend and lots of ways they are serving the community. The music was fantastic, and the pastor's message on prayer based on 2 Timothy chapter 2 spoke to my heart. Parking might be a bit of a frustrating endeavor at this campus, but how I rejoice at the number of folks who are hearing God's word and being offered the free gift of salvation and eternal life through Jesus Christ.

This way if you want to know more.

Although my desire is for a smaller church to connect with, I also want to follow the Lord's leading, so when Ed is home again, we plan to visit Rockharbor together, continue to pray for guidance and visit other churches in the area also.

I would appreciate your prayers for that as well. Thank you for taking the time to read about our progress. I'd be honored to have you follow my AniLouMinary blog and comment as you feel led.

Featured Writer

Nothing in the world can compare with this best news ever. And what an honor and a joy it is to be able to share it with you. My prayer is that everyone who reads this will embrace it for themselves. 

With gratefulness for the opportunity to be a featured writer on "Love Lines from God," here is the link to God Remembers Me 

Moving is a Process

For those of you following me on my journey, this may be a bit of a long read. But it's probably the best way to bring you up to speed on this moving process.

Monday, October 27th

We finished loading up the U-Haul truck, hooking up the car-dolly for our Hyundai on the back, and getting said vehicle properly aligned and attached.

Off we lumbered just around noon. The route we chose was south on I-5 to Portland where we transitioned to Highway 84 eastward. 

The first couple of hours I will admit tears overflowed down my cheeks. My husband, Ed, asked what he could do to help. "Just be tender and kind, and allow me to process and express these feelings," I said. To suppress them would have hurt too much. As I cried, my heart also reached out to the Lord for strength and comfort, knowing He understood my heartache. That verse in Isaiah that He gave me weeks ago still holds true: "The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail." (Isaiah 58:11 NIV)

We felt His presence as we drove, enjoying good weather and decent traffic conditions. Since we didn't want to be driving in the dark through mountains, we opted to book a room at a Comfort Inn along the way. So The Dalles, Oregon, was our resting place for the night. 

Tuesday, October 28th

Our journey continued eastward, arriving at our new place of residence in Kuna, Idaho, around 4:30 p.m. (Mountain DST). Diana, my sister-in-law (my husband's sister) and brother-in-law, Ed, who own this rental property, were here to greet us with smiles and hugs. Shortly thereafter, our dear friend, Kristia, arrived to help us with unloading the moving truck. How grateful we are that she and her husband, Toby, who we knew well when we lived in SoCal, now live just a few blocks away from us. What a blessing from the Lord. And yes, big hugs all around ensued. More hugs when Toby showed up a little later to lend a hand.

In addition, my friend, Melody, whom I knew when we lived in Lynden, Washington, and who now lives in this area, had put me in touch with a friend of hers from her church who organized a crew of great helpers. Janine and her husband, Craig, and several others became the hands and feet of Jesus as they carted every box and container off of the truck and into the house. Amazing to experience the camaraderie and swiftness with which the task was completed. To cap it off at the end, Craig offered a prayer of thanksgiving to the Lord, and a blessing for our home. 

That first night in Kuna found us spending it at Diana and Ed's house in Eagle because we had neglected to have the gas company switch the account to our name prior to our move so the house had no heat. But it ended up being providential. 

Wednesday, October 29th

What a treat to observe a beautiful sunrise in the morning as we drove back to our place in Kuna.

We needed to be onsite between the hours of 8 a.m. and 5 p.m. for the gas company technician. To our dismay he informed us he could not complete the hook-up due to the deterioration of the flue. There were already cracks and little holes in it and it disintegrated at every touch. Imagine if the gas had been left on in the interim between the prior tenant's leaving and our arriving. A real safety issue. In record time Diana and Ed's HVAC guy arrived, assessed the situation, and replaced the damaged parts of the flue. And by evening we were warm and cozy.

Thursday, October 30th

This year is my 5th year to be involved with Bible Study Fellowship. I hadn't been able to do this week's lesson homework, but I still wanted to plug in to the class that meets in Kuna. I'd already been in contact with the discussion leader of the group I was assigned to, so with great anticipation I attended that morning. Although I dearly miss my group back in Washington, what a joy to find another group of like-minded ladies. And within a five-minute drive from my house, no less. 

In the evening our friends, Toby and Kristia, invited us over to their home where we enjoyed a delicious dinner of home-made Olive Garden Zuppa Toscana Soup, and reminiscing of our times together in SoCal, wiping our tears away one minute and laughing the next. 

An additional blessing came when Toby offered to take my husband to the airport the following Saturday, removing that burden from my shoulders.

Friday, October 31st

We prepared for trick-or-treaters with a big bag of tootsie blow-pops and a smaller bag of Hershey's kisses. With only about a dozen or so costumed kiddos coming to our door, a lot of blow-pops remain in the big bowl. I'm not a fan of said candy; however the kisses have all disappeared! 

Saturday, November 1st  

For work purposes, Ed needed to return to Washington state for a couple of weeks, so Toby was here by 4:30 a.m. as promised to transport him to the Boise airport. The plan is for Ed to be back here in another week or so.

Sunday, November 2nd 

A highlight of my day was a walk with Kristia on a trail nearby along Indian Creek. With sunny but breezy weather, it was a treat to walk and talk while enjoying the colors of fall all around.

Renewing this sweet relationship is a confirmation that God has led us to this particular place at this particular time.

Monday, November 3rd

Birthday number 72 for me! I had wondered how it would be celebrated in my new environment. To begin the day, Michelle, a new friend who was part of the unloading crew, came over to help me unpack a few boxes. Well, we ended up visiting more than unpacking but at least a few books found their way onto some shelves. And then we were off to Aubergine Kitchen near the "The Village" in Meridian for lunch,

where my longtime friend, Melody (Michelle's sister), and my sister-in-law, Diana, and her friend, Jamie, joined us. Melody and I hadn't seen each other in a number of years and it was a joyful reunion. 

In the evening, Toby and Kristia, welcomed me into their home for a simple but delicious meal complete with fresh-baked brownies and ice cream. My brownie came topped with a birthday candle and the "Happy Birthday" song. Yes, I feel blessed and well-celebrated!

Wednesday, November 5th

No move to a new place is complete without a trip to the local library. Thus it was my goal that day. I love that it's less than a 10-minute drive away. A happy vibe filled the facility as the children's storytime was in session. At the counter a pleasant young lady greeted me. Hannah helped me with procuring a library card, and then with printing out my Bible Study Fellowship homework. When she came out of the back room with it, a smile on her face, she asked, "Are you a Christian?" I replied, "Yes, I am. Are you?" Her response was an emphatic, "Yes!" We talked about local churches I'm researching for Ed and me to plug into, and I mentioned that I might be visiting Rock Harbor Church in the near future. Her face lit up as she stated, "That's MY church!" She went on to say that it is a big church, but there are plenty of small groups to plug into, and she loves it. 

This was another confirmation to me that in spite of my reluctance to move here, this is where the Lord wants us to be right now. He is indeed guiding us and satisfying our needs, making me into that well-watered garden.

Boxed In

 The living room looks like a storeroom. Who knew our life could be contained in that many boxes?! And there are more boxes to fill as we get ready to move. This is after loading up the back of the Subaru with "stuff" and donating it to Value Village, and depositing a work van load at the local dump. No photos to share of these events, which I'm sure you'll appreciate. 

Not everything in life can be fit into boxes. I'm glad we have spiritual freedom to live outside the box the world sometimes tries to cram us into. As I've mentioned previously, it's been an honor to have some of the devotions I've written published on various websites. Today I'd like to invite you to check this one out where my musings entitled "Spiritually Anorexic" was posted today.

Love Lines from God

Enjoy!

Announcement: Eastward Bound

 
For the past three years some of my devotional pieces have shown up about once a month on the website, ChristianDevotions.us. Then more recently on a blog called Love Lines from God. Please be encouraged to check these publications out. I'm sure you'll be blessed by what is shared there. Also keep an eye out for another blog that I'll be participating in called "VineWords" after the first of the new year. 

This year our women's ministry deacon at church invited me to share some devotional thoughts in a newsletter going out occasionally to the women, and I was delighted to do so. 

I'd like to put the last one I wrote here on my blog as a way to announce the change we are approaching as of the end of October. So here goes:

How Does Your Garden Grow?

"The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail." (Isaiah 58:11 NIV)

How I admire people with gardening skills. Although both my parents were garden-minded, that gene did not get handed down to me. Every summer Dad set up his garden in well-fertilized soil by the barn. Corn, potatoes, and maybe some pole beans grew in abundance. On the east side of the house Mom's efforts produced gladiolas, chrysanthemums, and irises balanced with rows of carrots, peas, leaf lettuce, and a patch of squash. Sadly when asked to pull weeds, I couldn't even distinguish weeds from carrots.

Isn't it wonderful that God compares His people to a well-watered garden? Similar to the lushness of those summer gardens of my childhood, what the Lord plants in us and nurtures brings results that cannot be mistaken. 

When I encountered Isaiah's prophetic statement in my prayer journal recently as the verse for the week's reflection, it settled in my heart just when I needed it.

You see, after much consideration, prayer, and discussion over the past couple of years, my husband and I have made the decision to move to Idaho. My emotions are like a rollercoaster. I love being in Washington state. It's my home, where my roots are. But in all practicality we need to be in a place where the cost of living is lower. Fortunately we have family already living in the Boise area that own rental properties; we have been offered access to one of them. While dragging my heels through the dirt a bit, I'm recognizing this is God's way of meeting our needs. 

Still my tears have spurted like a water hose with holes at the thought of being at a distance from my children and grandchildren that live here in Washington. What reassurance to know that God is fully capable of tending each one of us in whatever soil He plants us, and bringing about amazing results. I'm starting to look forward to what He'll grow in me in Idaho.

Think about the beauty God is growing in your garden.

Wasting Away in Blackberries

 

The old farm where I grew up has been in the process of being destroyed organically. My dad sold it back in the 1970s and since then, blackberry briars have taken over. Wherever an opening was found in any structure still standing, they snaked inside, digging in their thorns, pulling down roofs and decimating walls. Little of the barn buildings can be seen and if left as is, blackberry vines would fully encase the house. It's not known why the destruction was allowed but my heart hurt to see this once beautiful property looking like Sleeping Beauty's castle before the prince came to rescue her. Renovating was no longer an option at this point. If ever I were able to buy back this land, the only thing to do would be to bring in a bulldozer and completely level it before restoration could begin.

A writing exercise sent me to this Bible verse: "The LORD determined to tear down the wall around the Daughter of Zion. He stretched out a measuring line and did not withhold his hand from destroying. He made ramparts and walls lament; together they wasted away." (Lamentations 2:8 NLT) As sad as it looks and for various reasons I found with further study, God made the choice to let Israel, the Daughter of Zion, be destroyed. Whether it was with blackberries or some other vegetation, or at the hands of sword-wielding warriors, the end came. He still has a plan for full restoration that He is working on. He has measured it all out and knows exactly how far things must go. Clearly grieving over loss is an expected part of the process. 

I grieve over losing things, from certain places I enjoyed living in, to loved ones making less than best choices, to friendships that soured and died, to my own youthfulness passing by. I look around to see where God put His measuring line in hopes the mark He placed for the boundary is in sight.

In Bible Study Fellowship this year we're looking at how God did bring Israel back out of Babylon to their homeland. Knowing that God uses a measuring tape reassures me that there will come a time of restoration. When I understand that tearing down a city allows a new one to be built, hope surges up and the pain in my heart ebbs. 

And where the old farm is concerned, a new owner has purchased it. Changes are slowly happening there. Yes, hope rises. 

So when I look at upcoming changes in my life, changes that mean closing the door on the familiar and dear and moving through a door that leads to new surroundings, I'm grieving at the loss, but also beginning to feel flickers of hopeful expectation at where God's measuring line is drawn. 

Change Happens

 August 25, 2025

Life is full of change. I remember when Mt. St. Helens erupted. Almost 300 miles north of the volcano, we heard the blasts, one right after the other on that May 18th morning in 1980. Recently we visited the Mt. St. Helens Visitors Center in Castle Rock. The change in topography from prior to 1980 to now is significant, as well as in plant life and animal species. Apparently the variety of vegetation and animals exceed what was there pre-eruption. 

My Bible states in Hebrews 13:8 "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever." And He is the One I'm following as we encounter changes of our own. 

More to come on that subject in the near future. You're welcome to come along on this new adventure by following this blog.

To Mark Where God Has Spoken

“…I will build an altar to the God who answered my prayers when I was in distress. He has been with me wherever I have gone.” (Genesis 35:3b NLT)

Jacob set up a stone pillar to mark the place where God had spoken to him. Then he poured wine over it as an offering to God and anointed the pillar with olive oil. And Jacob named the place Bethel (which means “house of God”), because God had spoken to him there. (Genesis 35:14-15 NLT)

Don’t you realize that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who lives in you and was given to you by God? You do not belong to yourself, for God bought you with a high price. So you must honor God with your body. (1 Corinthians 6:19-20 NLT)

Other words for distress are anxiety, disappointment, perplexity, vexation, and heartbreak. There are more in the thesaurus but these concepts stand out for me as we navigate through the COVID-19 storm. Early in January my daily Bible reading took me to Genesis 35. Knowing the story of Jacob and the challenges he went through, this was my prayer, “So many times, God, we’ve been in distress and we’ve prayed to You and You stayed with us all through our journey, every move, every place we’ve lived. I’m struck by the fact that You ‘went up’ from the place where You spoke to Jacob. Did he see You go, keeping his eyes on You? I want to keep my eyes on You. May my LIFE be like a stone pillar to mark that You have spoken into me.” 

As the weeks go by during quarantine, what kind of stone pillar am I putting in place to honor God? I picture Jacob searching for just the perfect rocks to pile up on top of each other to form his pillar. Maybe some have a sheen and sparkle to them while others have a dull finish but are solid and firm. Will my pillar have rocks that shine out and chunks that give stability? Like the piece of sparkly quartz as I’m standing patiently in line at the grocery store and there’s no toilet paper in stock, or the marble slabs of gratitude for the medical professionals putting their lives on the line. A plain and solid rock goes into place when I act in kindness and with a smile. And how about a big ol’ conglomerate boulder of respect for our government leaders trying to do what’s right to keep us as safe as possible. And let me not forget the foundational granite stone of faith as I trust God when our income source is denied because our business is non-essential. Or will my pillar crumble to gravel under the pick axes of anger, bitterness, blaming and doubt? 

When I remember that it is God Who is my strength and it pleases Him to make me strong (Psalm 89:17 NLT), I’m confident His inscriptions will cover the structure as each stone settles into position. This attitude is free for the embracing; I encourage you to start gathering your stones as you shelter in place. What beautiful monuments we’ll have to mark where God has spoken.

Shalom Shattered, Shalom Restored

It didn’t bloom last Spring, this tulip in its little pot. A stem came up with promising green leaves but no blossoms ever appeared. Perhaps the confines of the planter restricted its roots.

What a sweet surprise to discover it pushing up through the soil a couple days ago. As I’ve been led recently to look at the shattering of shalom in my life, God is using this plant to speak to me. My heavenly Father has brought a lot of healing to my heart’s garden over the years. But I recognize that there are still constraints that choke my growth.

One of my earliest recollections of trauma involves the death of my sister, Debbie, at age four. I was born eleven months after her so we were very close. And yes, I remember her clearly. When she died, I was told that she’d gone to be with Jesus in heaven; my constant companion, my best and essentially only playmate, had left me behind. Such a time of confusion, bewilderment and the unfairness of it all. Then when I thought we were going to see her—it was the funeral we were going to but I didn’t understand what that was—and expecting to see Jesus too, because of being told earlier that’s where she’d gone, I was sorely disappointed that Jesus was only a painting on the wall, and my sister lay unresponsive and cold in a pretty box. I felt foolish for my beliefs and somehow thought I should’ve known. But how could I? I was only three years old.

I can see where this experience has led me to often see myself as left out, not worthy of being included. It seems silly, I know, to think of not dying as a message that I wasn’t worth including, but that is how my little three-year old brain worked. It was a lie I believed about myself and carried along with me, a box I restrained myself in. Also from this I can see where I hold myself away from whole-heartedly investing in relationship with loved ones because how could I stand it if they leave me behind too. Then there’s the sense of “I should’ve known” in any given circumstance where there really is no way for me to know in advance something that is beyond my comprehension.

Thankfully my Jesus is not confined to a painting. He was with me in that earliest time as He now is in this present time. The Holy Spirit has brought healing and will continue to do so. Fully experiencing the pain and sorrow and grief means that I will fully experience the joy He has for me. There is no shame in not knowing what is around the corner and failing to understand life and the confusing incidents in it. Like that little tulip in the planter on my balcony that didn’t reach its bloom last year but is poking its head up again this year, trying again for another chance, my heart is coming up through the grime of sorrow and finding a place of inclusion in His light. Shalom restored.

Inner Delight

Confronting and overcoming obstacles while sitting around a dining room table this past Saturday wasn’t about the food. In fact, that peppermint popcorn? Yum! The only obstacle between those kernels of buttery sweetness and my mouth was having only two hands to deliver them. What I’m talking about transpired with a small group of women who’re responding to God calling them to write…to write their stories, explore ideas together and share them with others, learning how to do that effectively. There are casserole-sized doubts and pressure cookers of misgivings and feelings of lack in each of us. As we opened our hearts we found serving platters of encouragement, affirmation, camaraderie, and strength, with a smorgasbord of humor on the side. And I came away with a feeling that I’ve struggled to identify. 

It is a sense of something special and wonderful happening, like when you’ve got the soup kettle on the stove,

and the ingredients are starting to simmer, smelling absolutely heavenly and promising. It finally came to me as I journaled later. I'm calling it "inner delight" and it lines up with a prophetic word given to me quite awhile back. 

It was about 30 years ago; I was attending a women's Bible study in a small church with a friend. During the small group discussion and prayer time, one of the women said that she had a "vision" pertaining to me. She “saw” me leading/teaching/mentoring women in some way. At the time I kind of scoffed at the idea, being a busy wife and mom raising four kids and I couldn't imagine women wanting to follow me anywhere or listen to anything I had to say. And this whole idea of “prophetic vision”? Lets just say it was a dish I was dubious about sampling.

Looking back I can see how God has led me through doors that I wasn't expecting, stage right and stage left and behind the scenes, has brought me through a variety of experiences, including leadership training and positions, and now He shines a light on this particular spot, the spot He intended all along. The inner delight that comes of being where He has called and prepared me to be as He overlooked

my initial scoffing, and the knowledge that He gave me the desire of my heart—His recipe for inner delight. Could be the woman in that Bible study group had a preview glimpse of it for me.

And these women I am privileged now to sit with at a table are ladling out all kinds of tasty words to savor.

A CARDBOARD TESTIMONY

STUCK IN A STAGNANT SWAMP. 

UP AGAINST A BRICK WALL. 

WANDERING IN A MAZE. 

SQUARE PEG IN A ROUND HOLE.

MISSING THE ACTION.

AN ACCIDENT WITHOUT PURPOSE.

Umm, yeah, that’s been my reality the past few months. And I’ve felt as much like a cliche as those phrases. BUT God hasn’t been stuck, wandering or missing. I couldn’t see behind the curtain where He’s been busy putting answers together for the requests I was making: #1) to be in relationship with other Christian women local to my area who desire to write, and #2) to find a way to serve in His kingdom.

It meant stepping a bit out of my comfort zone to attend an event where I basically didn’t know anyone. It was called “Safe Harbor”. And through that window, a light glowed, showing a pathway to explore. That pathway led to something called “Rooted”, a 10-week class at Calvary Community Church in Sumner, Washington. In a small group setting, we shared our life stories with each other, saw how God is present, cheering for us and empowering us, knitting us together as a community in order to be of service to each other as well as the larger community around us. 

At our Rooted Celebration Evening last week, along with several dozen other people, I 

participated in The Cardboard Testimony. My cardboard sign proclaimed on one side 

where I’d been before Rooted, and on the other side where I am today.

My small group leader asked us to choose a new name for ourselves. The name that jumped out at me was MASTERPIECE, designed on purpose with purpose, not an accident at all. 

Going forward I’m stepping into a new role, as facilitator of the women in my small group from Rooted. There’s the answer to my second request. My first request? Well, at that event I went to outside of my comfort zone I met a woman with a powerful story who desires to write a book and who needs encouragement in getting that done. She introduced me to two other women who want to write and are looking for encouragement. They asked me to mentor them! I think we’ll all be mentoring each other as we each have something to offer. 

RAFTING OUT OF THE MUCK.

A LADDER OVER THE TOP.

GPS THROUGH THE MAZE.

FOUND THE CHISEL.

ON STAGE.

MASTERPIECE.

Let the Ice Cubes Fall Where They May

Although I’m an introvert, I like to fit in and feel included, and I understand it requires getting involved.

Calvary Community Church, Sumner, Washington

To that end I attended a women’s Bible study that began yesterday at a church nearby.

I love women’s Bible studies and this one is called Discerning the Voice of God by Priscilla Shirer. I know I will enjoy the lessons and learning. And based on my previous experiences, it’s a good way to connect with other ladies especially if the group is small enough. The class had probably several dozen women attending but the church set it up so that women can sit in groups of eight or so at tables. I felt quite welcomed at the table I was escorted to by one of the ladies in charge and enjoyed a lovely conversation with another gal who was new to this event.

But then! It was ice-breaker time! I confess I am so not a fan of plunging into what could be a freezing environment via the Similarity Bingo game. You’ve probably played a version of it a time or two. You are given a list of likes, dislikes, activities, traits, etc, and the goal is to find one person in the room who shares a commonality with you for each item on the list.

Anyone born in Bellingham? Anyone? Anyone?

Bedlam ensues. Some people opt out of playing. Usually I’m one of them. I’m not afraid of approaching people I don’t know especially in a church setting. So it’s not fear that would make me choose to sit it out. If the end result is for people to get to know each other, I’m all for it. But this kind of activity, at least for me, feels like a waste of time in that regard. I knew I’d get names on my sheet of paper but I would likely not remember the people attached to those names. But yesterday I chose to interact and let the ice cubes fall where they may. Why?

Well, it’s been a month since we moved and the only people I’ve talked to, other than my husband, kids and grandkids, are the staff in the apartment leasing office, store personnel, and librarians. And those have been mostly just in passing. So it is time for me to break out of my own shell and move past any isolation I’ve put myself into. Even if I didn’t establish a long-time friendship with this activity, I felt like I came to understand myself a little better and it was what I needed to do for my own growth. 

When the game ended, I slipped back into my chair and was warmly greeted by the new friend I’d made earlier. She’d opted to sit out. That will be my choice next time.

Find Friends

This is the devotional I wrote and shared with my writing group this past Saturday:

“I look up to the mountains—does my help come from there? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth! He will not let you stumble; the one who watches over you will not slumber. Indeed, he who watches over Israel never slumbers or sleeps. The Lord himself watches over you! The Lord stands beside you as your protective shade. The sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon at night. The Lord keeps you from all harm and watches over your life. The Lord keeps watch over you as you come and go, both now and forever.” (Psalm 121, NLT)

When we last saw our heroine, she was lost in a maze of moving boxes. Two months later and she has emerged, grateful for the destination God has provided. For her and her hero, being in their castle together after living in two separate realms, is most satisfying.

Our new neighborhood

Hey, in the middle of this move, we weren’t sure where we were going to be, or even when. The apartment application process took more time than usual due to needing various work and wage confirmations so we weren’t expecting to be able to get into it until after Christmas, if at all. Then suddenly things fell into place and we could move in before Christmas! It meant a bit of a scramble but were we ever grateful when after days of rain, the morning broke bright and sunny on December 23rd, our moving day. We were even more grateful we weren’t moving after Christmas when Whatcom County was in the throes of Icemageddon!

Moving Day! Snow on the ground but blue sky above!

Being in Bonney Lake made celebrating Christmas in Enumclaw with some of our kids so much easier. Only a half hour drive instead of three hours. Our friends that my husband was staying with for three months, were having family come for Christmas so the bed he vacated was much appreciated. Our friends had surgeries scheduled for January as well so I think it’s a relief for them to be without an extra boarder as they recover. 

My husband’s job involves him going out on sales calls to home owners that could be anywhere in Washington state. He is given his list of appointments via email first thing in the morning. There isn’t time for him to share them with me but we recently learned how to use a particular app on our iPhones. It’s called “Find Friends”. So at any time of the day I can tap on that app and see where he’s located. At least as long as there is a cell tower near him. There’ve been a few times when all I get is “Location cannot be found.” The first time that happened I kind of freaked out. My lucky sister was the one who got the slightly panicky P.M. from me to, “Please pray.” My imagination had me picturing a car-jacking, or a home invasion and his phone being destroyed. Now that I know sometimes service is interrupted and that he’ll show up on the app eventually, I’m all c’est la vie. 

This move has been an exercise in patience and trusting God to show us one step at a time. He had His eye on every tidbit of the process, He oversaw the apartment application, the missing employment verification forms, our friends’ surgery schedule, and the weather! And because the Lord Himself watches over us, He doesn’t need a Find Friends app!

Pilgrimage to Jerusalem

I’ve often said that waiting for something isn’t hard for me. It’s not that I’m patient exactly but I find things to occupy my time while I’m waiting. Change is a different ball of wax. In spite of my opposition to it though, that ball of wax will drip. In a way I want this upcoming change to happen NOW so we can be done with it, and I have reason for that, but I also have mixed feelings about it. 

After being laid off from the job my hubby’s had since mid-2013, he accepted employment with another company. Oh, so full of gratitude that God provided this new job within four weeks! The catch is that the office he will work out of is about 115 miles away. Doesn’t seem like far but when it’s in the Seattle area with its famous freeways, where you’re free to sit in traffic for hours on end, a daily commute is out of the question.

Yep, the change I’m talking about is another move for my hubby and me.

Here’s where my mixed feelings arise. I’ve loved being back in the county where I was raised. Reacquainting myself with familiar territory, seeing friends from childhood, feasting my eyes on nature-rich scenes, frequent family get-togethers (especially with my sister), it’s all been so good. The tears come pretty readily when thoughts arise of not having easy and quick access to it. 

BUT circumstances are such that the move will not happen right away. In the interim, he is staying with friends of ours close to his new place of employment during the week, and coming home on weekends. 

Now, I’ve often experienced being on my own for days and weeks and months in previous scenarios involving my husband’s work situations. And it works out okay. I’d rather have him home every night but a paycheck coming in regularly is not a bad thing. But folks, I confess I’m becoming eager to have both. This week I’ve had a little taste of it. I’m spending the week with our friends too! 

With rain pattering on my umbrella this morning I explored the yard around their home, letting my eyes be refreshed by the lines of their landscaping, which, yes, includes a slide.

Caught a shot or two of chickadees at the feeder.

A glimpse of a bear peeking over the patio fence. 

As I meandered I mused on what I read earlier in the day in my quiet time. “When they walk through the Valley of Weeping, it will become a place of refreshing springs. The autumn rains will clothe it with blessings.” (Psalm 84:6 NLT) According to the preceding verse, they are those who receive strength from the Lord, having their minds set on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. I am on a journey to the place God has chosen for me, and my husband, where we will be together. On the way there may be a few tears pattering—with change, that’s to be expected. Aaaah, refreshing springs and the blessings that sprout from autumn rains are part of the change too.

Wasting Away in Blackberries

The old farm where I grew up is in the process of being destroyed organically. My dad sold it thirty-plus years ago and since then, it has become unrecognizable. Blackberry vines surround every structure and wherever there’s an opening the vines have snaked inside, digging in their thorns and pulling down roofs and decimating walls. Little of the barn buildings can be seen and I expect by next year blackberry vines will fully encase the house. Who knows why the present owner has allowed this destruction but it hurts my heart to see this once beautiful piece of property looking like Sleeping Beauty’s castle before the prince came to rescue her.

Renovating isn’t even at option at this point. If ever I were able to buy back this land, we would have to bring in a bulldozer and completely level it before we could restore it. 

A writing exercise sent me to this verse: “The LORD determined to tear down the wall around the Daughter of Zion. He stretched out a measuring line and did not withhold his hand from destroying. He made ramparts and walls lament; together they wasted away.” (Lamentations 2:8 NLT) As sad as it looks and for various reasons according to further study, God made the choice to let Israel, the Daughter of Zion, be destroyed. Whether it was with blackberry vines or some other vegetation, or at the hands of sword-wielding warriors, the end came. He still has a plan for full restoration that He is working on. He has measured it all out and knows exactly how far things must go. Clearly grieving over loss is an expected part of the process. 

I grieve over losing things, from certain places I enjoyed living in, to those I love making less than best choices or at least, contrary to my beliefs, to friendships that soured and died, to my own youthfulness passing by. I look around to see where God put His measuring line in hopes the mark He placed for the boundary is in sight. Knowing that God uses a measuring tape reassures me that there will come a time of restoration. When I understand that tearing down a city allows a new one to be built, hope surges up and the pain in my heart ebbs. 

Never Too Late, Never Too Old

A devotional I shared with my writing group today.

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us.” (Hebrews 12:1 NLT)

As writers, some of us feel we have nothing significant enough to express. Others of us think it might be too late to develop our skills, that we’re too old. Maybe our attitude is that there are already so many writers, who do we think we are jumping onto the page. 

From the time I was about twelve years old, in addition to writing, I’ve had the desire to interpret and share my world through a camera’s lens. Never had anything fancy in the way of photographic equipment—instamatics back in the day when we used rolls of film, followed by cartridges. Cameras were always point-and-shoot types with film, and the same now with digital. Except for the last couple of years I’ve mostly used my iPhone6. Someday I’d like to have the opportunity to get acquainted with cameras that have adjustable lenses and learn how to use them. But I’ve been told, regardless of the equipment, that it’s your own eye that is responsible for a great photograph. 

In photography, as well as in life, sometimes it takes looking at things from a different perspective. With camera in hand, it might require getting down on your knees, or squatting rather unbecomingly. I’ve even resorted to holding my iPhone low to the ground and without even looking at what’s on the screen, snapping away and hoping for the best. Lots of shots get deposited in the trash; thankfully no film gets ruined anymore. But there are times when a photo that I’ve captured in that way ends up capturing me when I see it later uploaded onto my computer screen. One such recent photo makes me think of our lovely group of women who aspire to write. 

I don’t know what the flowers are called but they grow in wild crowds on the spit at Semiahmoo at this time of year. As my husband and I meandered along the path, the sun, a hazy blaze on the western horizon, set up its last hoorah for the day with those flowers. Quarter-sized centers of bristly brown, surrounded by candy-corn petals, they looked good enough to eat. Grabbing the sun’s setting rays, they lit themselves up, dancing in the breeze. They didn’t compare themselves with each other, they didn’t consider it too late in the day to splash their beauty across their world, and though some were losing their petals, they waved just as energetically as their fully-petaled companions. 

It’s not too late in the day for us. I know Hebrews 12:1 refers to pursuing our faith-walk but could we apply the principle? Isn’t our writing part of our faith-walk? Remember when the sun is setting here, it’s rising somewhere else. 

A Much-Needed Prescription

With four children, the oldest age six, the twins age four, and the baby not quite a year old, it was no wonder the mom felt frazzled, and she looked it too. Holding her youngest on her lap while the pediatrician checked the baby’s ears and listened to her heart, the mom allowed herself to relax a little in the chair. A sigh, one of those involuntary sighs that she was famous for, chose that moment to escape. The doctor scooted his wheeled stool across the room to his desk, and picked up his prescription pad. He smiled at the mom. “Baby is doing fine. But I’m going to write a prescription for you, Mom.” He scribbled a few lines and then handed her the slip of paper. She read it over.

“Are you serious?” she said.

“Yes,” was the smiling and emphatic reply.

The prescription read: “One weekend with [your husband] and without children at my vacation cabin on Lummi Island.” 

In the four years that her kids had been under this doctor’s care, she’d seen his kindness, patience, compassion, and gentleness with them, as well as his skill as a physician, but to be the recipient of his generosity and obvious concern for her mental well-being brought tears of gratitude. She felt that the weekend away did much to help her hang onto her sanity. A move to another state shortly after meant a new pediatrician but she always thought of him as the best one her kids ever had.

Thirty-some years later she read on Facebook that a certain Noemi Ban, holocaust survivor, would be giving a lecture at Western Washington University about her experiences. Always interested in knowing more about this, she signed up to attend, along with her sister. She pondered the woman’s last name. It was the same as that of the wonderful pediatrician who cared for her children. Could they be related? 

If you haven’t already guessed, I was that frazzled mom. It was this past week that I went to the lecture. And there was the pediatrician in the front row proudly watching his mother, at the age of 94, talking about having hope and love, instead of hate, even after suffering so dreadfully at Auschwitz. I spoke with Dr. Ban for a few minutes during intermission. I said, “You must be so proud of your mom!” He smiled and admitted he was. I went on to express my gratitude for his care of my children, and of me with such an unusual prescription. He said he recalled that occasion and how my husband had done a little carpentry work for him on the cabin to help defray our medical expenses with him as well. He asked about my kids. Then giving me a hug, he thanked me for connecting with him that evening. 

My sweeties, 1984

Hearing and reading Noemi Ban’s story (Sharing is Healing, a Holocaust Survivor’s Story with Ray Wolpow), I realize that it was she who influenced her son to be the kind and generous man who took a personal interest in his young patients and their parents. She raised her children to love life and to overcome hatred, a much-needed prescription in our world. I know my children were just a few out of the hundreds who were benefitted in part by this one woman. I feel blessed to have heard her say, “Life is for living. I love life!” 

It's All Playing!

Playing in the leaves and the pumpkins, playing with words, playing with photos, it's all playing! I'm no poet but when a prompt for Haiku showed up in my writing group, it called forth some words that may or may not be considered poetry but it appealed to my desire to play. Take a moment, dear reader, and play with me. Be refreshed.

With edges curling

Crisping to red and yellow

A lone leaf resting

Once shady partners

Simmered in sun, blown in breeze

Task complete, they fall

Yes to the pumpkin!

Forget past seasons’ neglect

And doom of compost

A Ladybug Speaks

Nobody notices the wallflower. You know, the quiet, shy person sitting on the sidelines, alone, not drawn into conversation or even approached in search of a listening ear. Yep, I’ve been a wallflower; occasionally I still am, by choice thinking erroneously that my company isn’t wanted anyway. 

I’ve noticed lately that God enjoys initiating conversations with me. Not that I’ve had the burning bush experience or instructions to put on a stone tablet kind of thing. Actually, according to Chris Tiegreen in the Hearing His Voice devotional book as he referenced Hebrews 8:6 (He is the one who mediates for us a far better covenant with God, based on better promises), we’ve got it way better than dear Moses in the communicating with God department. 

It may be a mysterious sounding concept but having the Holy Spirit as a constant presence, I’m increasingly aware that God welcomes interaction with me. And He usually starts the dialogue. He doesn’t limit Himself to one mode of expression. I think I have a favorite though. Well, a close second after the Bible. He catches my eye and my ear with the tiniest details in His creation, His home away from home. 

An answer to my unspoken, unexplored questions came in red with tiny black dots.

All alone on a leaf, quivering in the breeze.

Life’s breezes have me all a-quiver, with some uncertainties and unknowns as well as exciting potential. A ladybug spoke God’s message to me, “Hold on to the living vine. He won’t let you fall. And He makes all things beautiful in the midst of it.”

Garden of Desires

“Hope that is put off makes the heart sick, but a desire that comes into being is a tree of life.” (Proverbs 13:12 NLT) 

I don’t have green thumbs and I have no desire to dig in the dirt. But I love to look at what others have planted and brought to bloom.   

      

There are things other than plants that I have great longings for, where growth and ripening seem to be a far off dream. Will the branches of those trees ever be covered with leaves? Do my longings have anything to do with what God longs for? What are His yearnings? 

I believe the yearnings and desires of my heart are shaped by God. He is the Gardener who planted those desires, so like a child with both hands grasped by her Father in a never ending circle of dancing grace, I’m going to keep on expecting fulfillment and satisfaction from Him.

When I lean in to watch as He waters and weeds my garden, I am assured He will reap what He has planted in me, a tree of life.