Category Archives: Jesus

The Red, White, Too Blue

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The Red, White, Too Blue

The red, white, and blue flew high and mighty this 4th of July as well as the days leading up to the holiday and afterwards. This July holiday is a day to celebrate our freedom here in the United States. What colorful traditions we have adopted for this day: the American flag, fireworks, banners, car shows, comfy decor, white picket fences, blooming red poppies, festive hometown parades, berry pies, and excited grandkids. This year was marked differently, too blue. The unexpected, sudden death of our son-in-law, Mick Dickus. May he rest in peace and the gracious freedom of being with our Savior, Jesus and heavenly Father. Peace, I say, I pray for Mick’s family and friends he leaves behind. We are blessed to have known you and your passion for all things organic and natural. May we be better people knowing these earthly and heavenly precepts.

https://www.czboyer.com/obituaries/michael-dickus

Sow A Seed in 2025

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Sow A Seed in 2025

The word I picked for 2024 was “present”. Be present each moment and treat each day as a present or gift from God. Many moments of my days I was fully present. I had quality time in prayer. Moments spent with a cup of tea, watching the birds at the feeders, the bees and dragonflies on the pineapple sage, lemon thyme, and mint plants. More family time whether planned or took the opportunity as it came about with my oldest daughter, youngest grandson, and my cousin and her husband as they all relocated to St. Charles. Many days were spent writing, being present moment to finish my 162-page memoir (before photos) on my culinary life as well a mini book of 49 Haikus entitled “Balancing The Seesaw”. But there were plenty of other days not so much present moment, as I did too much regretting the past or fretting about tomorrow. I missed out on the blessings of those days.

“Drink your tea slowly and reverently, as if it is the axis on which the world earth revolves – slowly, evenly, without rushing toward the future; live the actual moment. Only this moment is life.” ~ Thich Nhat Hanh 

In late February Dean and I took a trip to Hilton Head Island, South Carolina and Savannah, Georgia. I had been sick most of the frigid January and equally cold February but instantly felt better when we got into warmer weather and the sea breeze. Somehow, we need to make these 9 or 10 days stretch for 8 weeks. Maybe when we both are fully retired? That is at least 2 more winters after this one. The sinus infections and bronchitis lingered for weeks, with vertigo and inner ear migraines to follow. It was not until July after physical therapy and a prescription regiment that I felt normal again. This allergy to the cold is getting worse, not better as I get older.

“May this winter be gentle and kind – a season of rest from the wheel of the mind.” ~ John Geddes

Other trips were to Eureka Springs, Arkansas for a springtime culinary & writing workshop I presented at the Writers’ Colony at Dairy Hollow. We had multiple trips to the Kansas City side of the state to clean out Dean’s parents’ home of 50 years and place it on the market. It sold in June, and our weekend trips to Kansas City subsided the 2nd half of the year with occasional visits to see 2 of Dean’s kids and their families. We had a Labor Day trip to Jefferson City for a meeting place after Dean’s oldest granddaughter spent the weekend with us. Beautiful autumn family photos were taken in October near Dean’s daughter’s house. Three other travel destinations in 2024: a writers’ conference in Clarksville, Tennessee in June, a long August weekend in Branson with Dean’s kids and grandkids, and a flood relief trip to Asheville, North Carolina in November. The writers’ conference was excellent. The writers’ group that formed after the conference in 2023 provoke me to keep writing. We always have a good time in Branson. The Asheville trip proved productive taking donated winter clothing and blankets for the flood victims after Hurricane Helene left such destruction. We made new friends with our Airbnb hosts who coached us on non-profit groups to work with while in town.

“The area holds a magnetism beyond words.” ~ Country Cottage Living about Asheville, NC

I suppose the biggest surprise for 2024 was the death of my oldest brother, Rick. He suffered a heart incident on December 1 after arriving back at the local airport from a Thanksgiving trip to see his oldest son and family in Seattle. He never recovered after 10 days on life support. A young 65-years old, it seems Rick left this earth too soon. Jesus must have wanted him there in Heaven, where we all want to be once we pass on from this earthly life. Rick spent hours of research in his first 2 years of retirement and left an unfinished book about the men of the Lewis & Clark expedition. Dean and his love of archival history may be of assistance in the finishing of Rick’s book. My sister-in-law, Joan has this project in the plans for the near future. I miss my brother.

“The shadow side of love is always loss, and grief is only love’s own twin.” ~ Margaret Renkl

Dean and I’s occupations remain the same, Dean as an archival technician at The National Archives, and Anna as a culinary professional at Aging Ahead. This autumn I joined a women’s group, the local chapter of Epsilon Sigma Alpha (ESA). We serve the St. Jude Foundation, veteran, and local charitable organizations with fundraising and recognition efforts. These fellow sisters donated items for the Asheville victims. They were also there to comfort me after my brother’s untimely death. I look forward to building friendships while at our fundraisers and social events. Dean as well as other husbands assist from time to time. On occasion we make it to the DeSoto CIA and community events to support our friends.

“The lesson which life repeats and constantly reinforces it, ‘look under foot’. You are always nearer the divine and the true sources of power than you think.” ~ John Burroughs

Texas is on our radar for a few days this February to escape the Missouri winter tundra and weather. Soon after we will be welcoming our first great-grandchild into the world. My oldest granddaughter and her fiancé are due late March. Early June I will be presenting a workshop on block-out poetry and ekphrastic poetry at the Clarksville Writers’ Conference. The theme is on gardening, my favorite subject to write and talk about. A destination for admiring the more flowers, woods, and sunsets is planned for September.

“A seed neither fears light or darkness but uses both to grow.” – Matshona Dhliwayo

I promise to read for 25 minutes a day in 2025. My word for 2025 is “seed”. At the end of 2025 we will have lived a quarter of a century into the current millennium. Where does the time go? I dare say I have been busy, but maybe not busy enough with what really matters. Maybe I can make this 25th year count for what is truly worth the energy and time I expend. Sow a seed with a kind and sincere word; help with making the air fresh and the water clean; provide a garden, kisses, sheltering arms, a cozy bed, write words worth reading, and love enough for it to be returned.

“She did not need much, wanted very little. A kind word, sincerity, fresh air, clean water, a garden, kisses, books to read, sheltering arms, a cozy bed, and to love and be loved in return.” ~Starra Neely Blade

“Those who plant in tears will harvest with shouts of joy. They weep as they go to plant their seed, but they sing as they return with the harvest.” ~ Psalm 126: 5 & 6

This One Gift

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This One Gift

Preparing for the holiday season was simple this year. Primitive, I suppose. With my grandson’s young cat in the house, no extravagant decorating. A tabletop tree with white lights, white and red beaded garlands, with no ornaments but the lone gold star for the topper. Shopping took place here and there for the past three months. Packages are wrapped of gold ribbons and paper fluff. At this season of giving Dean and I will be bearing gifts at small gatherings throughout the next two weeks. Our employers and my ladies’ group had their holiday parties. For Dean and I no single big gathering. With my family of origin, it is now just my sister and me. With Dean’s family, his siblings have multiple families to stretch their time with. Our grown children, too. Sickness kept us from visiting family in Kansas City this past weekend, but in a couple of weeks we will try again. Dean’s father will join us Christmas afternoon for holiday goodies, a scrumptious homemade dinner, and watching football.

Despite all the holiday pomp and circumstance, what is the one gift that matters? Jesus. His presence. His love. The meaning of His birth reaches to the Heavens and covers the whole Earth. This year of celestial phenomenon such as the Northern lights seen in Cades Cove and the total solar eclipse that swept across the northern hemisphere, still nothing compares to the birth of our Lord Jesus. God’s gift to you and me.

“Once in our world, a stable had something in it that was bigger than our whole world.” ~ C.S. Lewis 

When The Heart Aches

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When The Heart Aches

“I’m fixin’ to get into some trouble. You comin’?” the meme says. When the heart aches, sometimes there is the temptation to escape it all and bring company along with. Get into some kind of trouble while having fun. Anything is better than this pain. Truly, my heart is aching, but I am not aiming to get into trouble. I love my Lord and Savior Jesus too much to go that route. Ready to have happy times again. It had been 4 weeks since Dean and I’s mental and body rejuvenating vacation to the southeast coast. A baby shower for a beloved niece brought some joy, and for Dean guy time at the shooting range with his brothers, sons, and father this past weekend. My heart still aches for the loved ones whose mental illness leads them astray. My heart aches to witness painful steps, one after the other of a faithful mother. My heart aches to see poverty rob a person from becoming all they can. Do you see and feel that kind of heart ache, too?

Then there is loneliness sometimes even in the midst of all the family and work obligations. I have done this thing called family life for so many years. Not always a good wife, mother, daughter. But tried to make family my priority. To be honest, family and friends fall short like I do. We are human, and all need Jesus. Go down memory lane, I realize decisions I would have made differently as a young adult, wife, mother, grandmother, adult child, employee, and neighbor. “You can’t go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending,” wrote C.S. Lewis.

Jesus, heal my aching heart. Comfort those who my heart aches for. Bring them through another day. Let them know Your love. God, show me what You want me to spend time on today, in this winter season of my life. I may be getting older, but I am still willing to do Your will. Good works do not replace home life. Family and friends do not replace Jesus. Jesus. We need You.

The recently deceased country singer Toby Keith presented this song before his passing. Words so eloquent…

Don’t let the old man in
I wanna leave this alone
Can’t leave it up to him
He’s knocking on my door

And I knew all of my life
That someday it would end
Get up and go outside
Don’t let the old man in

Many moons I have lived
My body’s weathered and worn
Ask yourself how would you be
If you didn’t know the day you were born

Try to love on your wife
And stay close to your friends
Toast each sundown with wine
Don’t let the old man in

Many moons I have lived
My body’s weathered and worn
Ask yourself how would you be
If you didn’t know the day you were born

When he rides up on his horse
And you feel that cold bitter wind
Look out your window and smile
Don’t let the old man in

Look out your window and smile
Don’t let the old man in

Grace To Begin Again

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Grace To Begin Again

“Somehow there’s always grace to begin again.” ~ Ann Voskamp. 

This year 2023 has been a rough one. We left 2022 praying for miracles and depending on God’s gift of grace unending.  If you may remember, my oldest daughter, Rachel and her family lost their home in a fire Christmas night of 2022.  Many compassionate people rallied to provide and support them in their plight. The insurance company has been very slow, and partial settlement funds have come.  They have made home with a trailer situated on my son-in-law’s parent’s St. Francois County ranch, living a minimalist lifestyle.  The lot the burned house was on still needs to be sold. The family battles flashbacks and sleep deprivation since the fire.  Please continue in prayers for Rachel, Mick, Hannah, Ella, and Eli. “The mind is a wonderful servant but a terrible master,” author Robin Sharma tells us. Other family news … Granddaughter, Hannah moved into her first apartment. My son, Ben moved to Springfield, MO this spring, and seems to enjoy being there.  My Elisabeth and husband, Mark have taken quite a liking for insects, and have a few terrariums housing their new pets.  Libby and Brendan are occupied with work and school. Dean’s youngest son, Rainer and wife, Erica had another son, Jeremiah on March 3 who joins 3-year-old Jefferson.  It is a joy having them just 25 minutes away.  Dean’s oldest son, AJ and family, Nancy, Elise, and CJ keep busy with work and school.  Little CJ started preschool this year.  Dean’s daughter, Liz and husband, Vince keep up with work and are wonderful helpmates for their families. Most work projects at our St. Charles cottage had been curtailed with our families’ immediate needs in 2023.  I managed to keep alive some potted herbs, and successfully grew Mexican sage and eucalyptus this year. Back at it in 2024 for our cottage, our rental house, and Dean’s parents’ house.

Dean’s mother passed away in October.  She had been battling ill health and leukemia for at least a year.  We typically visit the Kansas City family every 4 – 6 weeks.  But between September and November, we went back and forth to the KC side of the state nine out of ten weekends with her end-of-life details, funeral, and caring for Dean’s father. Dean’s father agreed to a premier assisted living apartment in STL, which has made it much easier for his sons to visit regularly.  Besides coffee & tea stops in obscure towns and villages while going back and forth to Farmington and Lee’s Summit this year, weekend getaways by ourselves or with family or friends included Rolla, Charleston, and Branson, MO; Eureka Springs, Arkansas; Tennessee for the Clarksville Writer’s Conference in June; a day in Glasgow, MO; another day in Lincoln Land, IL; a week away to the beautiful North Carolina Appalachians and Nashville, TN; a flight and an overnight in Texas for Dean’s aunt’s funeral in October; and a holiday weekend in the Wisconsin Dells.

Dean still loves serving the researchers who come into the National Archives military record center.  He has been with this government agency for over 15 years. Dean talks about “retirement” in 4-1/2 years, but I cannot see him stopping the beloved “hunt” with the research he loves doing.  Good chance a small research gig will be in Dean’s future after retirement.  Author Gretchen Rubin writes, “That’s my ideal life.  Doing work worth doing.”  I found regular weekday part-time employment worth doing.  Since May I have been working as a culinary professional for a non-profit organization that serves the senior and disabled communities with meals-on-wheels and services. The earlier full-time job was too much for me between the lack of adequate training at the credit union and running on fumes from weekend trips back and forth to Farmington to assist my daughter after the fire.  Early autumn, the community college built a new space for culinary classes.  I was asked to consult on necessary equipment and space design for the “Studio Kitchen”, and this new space is where I facilitated two cookie baking classes this holiday season.

“Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work,” Thomas Edison is quoted. I continue to take opportunities to submit my poetry, short stories, and recipes to various online publications. Some of my writings are selected and published, plenty others denied.  I participated in my first poetry reading in Eureka Springs, Arkansas early in 2023, and attended two other readings.  In 2024 I will present a WCDH fundraiser workshop “The Essence of Lemon, Herbs, and Writing” on a date TBD.  I facilitated this same workshop at a local lavender farm this past summer and loved the interaction of the participants. I joined a writers’ circle with some folks I met at the Clarksville conference.  Every chance I have to be a part of the writing community, I take it. Huge strides have been made in a culinary themed book I am writing.  “There is something delicious about writing the first words of a story. You never quite know where they’ll take you,” author Beatrix Potter said. More recipes, poems, and short stories keep being added.  A labor of love. I didn’t know this introvert had that much to share with the world.  Somedays I prefer solitude rather than talk to people.  If I am quiet long enough, I can hear.  “Sound is ephemeral…Sound is generative…Listening opens us to the wonders of communication and creativity,” shared keynote speaker David George Haskell at the Clarksville writers’ conference. I work things out with words in the quiet, writing them down and reading others’ words.  Other days I need to have that meaningful conversation with a friend, family member, co-worker, or senior client. “Writers and artists work in the loneliest of all professions, inside our heads”, eMerge co-editor Charles Templeton wrote in a newsletter.

Fluffy pillows and comforters layered on a settee, piled reading books on the floor besides, and a cup of hot cocoa lathered with whipping cream atop … this is what I look forward to this winter which is predicted to be long and cold, the snow shovel kind according to the persimmon seeds.  I will watch the snow and songbirds through the frosty windows while snug warm under blankets, listening to the quiet hush, occasional chirps, and let the words flow on paper.  “Live from the abundant place that you are loved, and you won’t find yourself begging others for scraps of love,” Christian author, Lysa TerKeurst encourages us. Ann Voskamp reminds us, “Whatever rock and tender place the bruised soul finds itself between, it’s witness there right into the face of the rock we’re facing.  There is no such thing as salvation by romance, or by achievement, or by dream life, or by any good behavior, or by itself or anyone else … No choice you or anyone else makes has the power to make you unchosen … What you want most deeply is to be deeply wanted as a person, valued and needed, seen and safe and known.”  Simply, God the Father chose you, salvation is through the gift of Jesus alone, and nothing can separate you from the love of God.  The Holy Spirit lives in you and me.  I pray you know these truths, live them, and share them.

“Nothing can ever separate us from God’s love.” ~ Romans 8:38


Hopes And Dreams

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Our 2018 is coming to a close very soon.  Where did the year go?!  Filled with memorable days with many of you, & for others not enough time together.

Our travels started with a February trip to Louisville, KY where we went to the “show of shows” for military & gun collectors. Foodie joints, the Louisville Slugger tour, & downtown were a part of the trip.  Dean & I visited the St. Meinrad Archabbey.  The architecture & gardens are stunning.  Mother’s Day weekend included a combined mothers trip to Pella, IA to view the late spring tulips, a windmill tour, & indulge in Dutch fare.  Memorial Day weekend Dean & I visited the Lincoln Museum & Home in Springfield, IL.  Late June, we gathered up my Rachel’s three, & took a 4-day trip to Branson, MO where the go-carts reigned.  Such fun with the grandkids!   We had a short few days in Minnesota.  It definitely was not long enough, but happy to relax & visit with in-law family in the Twin Cities and family friends on Island Lake part of the 4th of July week.  Over Veteran’s Day weekend, we holiday & antique shopped in Branson.

Our big news for 2018 is our purchase of a small 1940’s home in historic St. Charles, just one Missouri River town closer to St. Louis metro.  The weekday commutes to our offices have been easier, & the quietness of this older neighborhood so refreshing.  Dean loves the WWII era, & his “man cave” basement.  “Deanna’s Cottage” is a “work in progress”; new kitchen flooring, unveiling the hardwood floor under carpeting in the living room & our bedroom, new or no awnings (depends on if you ask Dean or Anna!), new fencing, taking down at least one huge tree, & building a “garage plus” in the big back yard are envisioned. It is a quaint 4-room dwelling, under 800 sq-ft love nest.  We went small on purpose.  We love visitors, but really love our empty nest!  The comfy guest bedroom takes you back to the whimsical Edwardian era.  It has been a blast finding 1930-40’s furniture pieces & 2nd-hand decor to decorate Deanna’s Cottage. We recently listed with Airbnb for the St. Charles festival weekends only.  Being 7 blocks from historic Main Street makes our place an ideal hideaway for travelers. On those weekends while guests are at our cottage, we stay at our 4-bdrm St. Peters house, which is being rented to my daughter & son-in-law.  Dean & I have experienced some Airbnb suites as guests before we opened up our home as hosts. The concept seems rather novel, but in past centuries many travelers stayed in common people’s homes.  This century we are using electronics to facilitate bookings for lodging.  Although not a traditional bed & breakfast, I will always leave some kitchen-made goodie for our guests, as I still love to bake & our guests gladly indulge.  For any naysayers about the size, pace, venue, or avenue, it is Dean & I’s dream.  Deanna’s Cottage will grow. We are building our dream one step at a time.  More in the years ahead …

Our grandchildren continue to flourish.  Dean’s granddaughter, 2-year old Elise has developed into her own person.  Loves art, music, & hands-on anything!  My youngest grandchild, Eli shines in math & finally had a buddy move in his neighborhood.  Ella needs to stop growing!  Such a kind, pretty young lady she is.  My oldest granddaughter, Hannah, is in her last year of homeschooling.  Another artsy one.  The last I heard she wants to be a tattoo artist, but had thoughts about nursing.  Either or both paths are the right one for her.  I understand that pull in vocational choices based on gift areas. Libby is thriving in her 1st year of high school, active with choir, & quite the artist as well.  What is it about our girls & art?  My Brendan is the other one that needs to stop growing! He excels in his height along with sports & academics.

Our beloved, Midnight passed away in June just before Father’s Day. The memories we had with him during his puppy, young & older adult doggy years I will treasure forever.  Dean & I had him his last 5 years after my father passed away.  Though I hesitated at the first, Dean embraced being Midnight’s new master when the need was brought to our attention.  This Labrador brought so much liveliness & love to our home & our extended family.  We miss our Midnight.  Another doggy will come into our home later, maybe when we retire.  Our feline, Celine stays at the St. Peters house.  She is getting too old for another change.  We have granddogs & grandcats always in plenty.

The growing season was shorter this year. This spring I missed the window of opportunity to sow my greens like arugula, lettuce, & spinach because it was winter up until mid-May.  Summer came 2 weeks later!  In our screen house we again had monster tomato plants produce some delicious cherry tomatoes.  I still have a few of those green tomatoes picked before Jack Frost came that are turning red in a bowl set in the kitchen window.  Boone Hollow Farm where the screenhouse/greenhouse seats is still a serene place for Dean & myself to hide away during a workweek evening or weekend.  Just 30 minutes of the country quiet & picking weeds or vegetables can restore my blood pressure & sanity to normal.

Dean continues to serve & learn from the clients that come into the research room at the National Archives.  The stories the researchers & employees uncover are quite entertaining.  Throughout the year we go out for happy hours or dinners with his clients.  My work with the employee wellness program at St. Louis County was nationally recognized by the American Heart Association this year, after 10 years of creative efforts & hard work.  In 2019, I along with other wellness professionals in the St. Louis region will address diabetes & glucose issues.  I can personally vouch that regular physical activity keeps those numbers in line.  I was walking 10,000 steps a day this year, & am now challenged by the cold temps.  Our basement will be put into use over the winter months just like the underground tunnel at work.

Advent season sets the stage of waiting in hope & a readiness for the Gift.  The Gift of Jesus is there to embrace any day & any time.  Our hopes are birthed in Him.  One of our children has a hope for healing of chronic health conditions of degenerative disc disease & arachnoiditis against the current medical odds.  Conventional medicine has harmed more than helped, so alternative therapies are sought for pain management.  Missouri joins the legalization of marijuana, a miracle in itself.  Another one of our children is waiting & has a hope for having a child.  Dean & I continue to pray for our daughters & sons.  And for each of us who have a hope whether tiny or big, impregnate our whole being, let the joy of knowing that our God reigns, He cares, He loves us right now just as we are.  Look to Him for security. “Hope as an anchor” is what I pray for you & our loved ones this holiday season & long into 2019!

 

St. Valentine’s Keys

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Outdoor gardening seized late October.  My perennials appear to be in dormancy under the plant lights in the garage.  Such a cold winter, the little heater is keeping the garage just above freezing.  Sometimes life’s circumstances appear to keep us in dormancy like the season of winter.  But winter is just one season, there are those three others. And really underneath it all, life is emerging from the roots, bulbs are multiplying, and green growth will reappear in just weeks.  Valentine’s Day red comes in the midst of the bleak cold winter in this part of the world.  We just celebrated National Wear Red Day, comes the first Friday in February each year, with women sporting red dresses and men vivid red ties which reminds us to take care of our hearts with healthy foods and ample physical activity.  Valentine trinkets, cards, and boxes of chocolates are given with red cupids and hearts on February 14.

 

This winter holiday warms hearts for some, and leaves others wondering if they will ever find true love.  The history of this holiday evolved like so many other holidays from Christian roots.  Wikipedia tells us “St. Valentine of Rome was imprisoned for performing weddings for soldiers who were forbidden to marry and for ministering to Christians, who were persecuted under the Roman Empire.  According to legend, during his imprisonment, Saint Valentine healed the daughter of his jailer, Asterius, and before his execution, he wrote her a letter signed ‘Your Valentine’ as a farewell.”  A original European tradition is to give St. Valentine’s keys to show love and with that goes the lore that these keys keep epilepsy away from your children.  Now the golden key is gifted as a romantic symbol and an invitation to “unlock the giver’s heart”. Wow, what an invitation!

With Jesus you do not have to unlock the Giver’s heart.  He gave all His love on the Cross.  True love does come in Jesus!  He is there for each of us.  His love is perfect … it is patient, kind, does not envy, does not boast, is not proud, or rude, and is not self-seeking. It is not easily angered, keeps no record of wrongs, does not like evil, and rejoices in the truth.  His love always protects, hopes, perseveres, and never fails!

Any Room At Your House?

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Tis the season of busyness and preparations for the holidays.  Presents bought and wrapped.  Baking.  A surprise visit and present from my son.  It is Dean and I’s heart to get these holiday greetings sent via postage mail long before Christmas week. Please know that you are in our hearts year round. Christmas joy has filled our home, peace with God and grace to all people despite any differences.  This snowy Christmas Eve is the slow-down to reflect on His Gift, Jesus, lessons from 2017 and what is hoped for 2018. The 4 Advent Sundays reminded us of this moment. Father Peter shared at Mass tonight the Christmas story, how there was no room for Joseph, Mother Mary, and the birth of baby Jesus.  A meager manger would be the chosen place of His birth. It was asked how many of us would say the same “no room at our house”? “What would you do if Joseph and Mary came knocking on your door tonight?  Do you have time to deal with this?  Can you make space in your house without resentment or casting judgment?  Would you empty the tool shed or a spot in the garage?  Would you charge high $$ to profit from this situation?  Or worst yet, steal their possessions, what little the guests have?  Scriptures tell us “What you do to the least of my brothers, you do unto Me.”

“Family” would summarize our year of 2017.  As a reminder, Dean and I have 6 children, 5 in-law children, 6 grandchildren, 3 parents, 5 siblings and their families, and we cannot forget our dog, Midnight and cat, Celine, the 7 grand dogs, and 3 grand cats.  Dean and I began 2017 in Key West, Florida with his parents and siblings, an 80th birthday celebration for Dean’s mother.  Such a while ago, but lovely memories of the beach breezes, discovering new sites, and time with family.  We still have our greeting card boxes that niece Amelia made each of us.  After the hurricanes there, I suppose the scenery is quite different.  In a couple of days warmth awaits us in San Antonio, where we will meet up with Dean’s son, AJ, Nancy, Elise, and  Nancy’s family there.  Spiced rum eggnog, homemade chicken soup, Christmas carols, and having each other will keep us warm tonight …

In February my daughter, 33-year old Elisabeth was diagnosed with 2 types of breast cancer, stage 1 and stage 2. Elisabeth went through a strict regimen of chemo treatments, hair loss, zapped energy and strength. She had a double mastectomy and reconstruction this summer. We are so very thankful to our Father as she has been given a cancer-free diagnosis in July.  Elisabeth is regaining her strength and hair while under hormone therapy and low-dose chemo.  Her husband, children, family, friends, and all the supportive, praying communities continue to surround her. Her bravery and fighter personality helped Elisabeth stay above.  I reached out for prayers by many women, visited church 1-block from my office to take part in many noontime prayer vigils, and Dean and I together continue to provide a quiet and calm home while she heals.

Refreshing spring brought us to the completion of our 2-room addition.  It took a whole year, but it is beautiful and has provided the much needed space to our home.  At this season of our lives we share our home with my daughter and her family.  More warmth with the woodwork, a set of barn doors matching the stained doors in the rest of the house as well as a high ceiling to heighten the spacious floor layout.  We use the 2 rooms as a family room/dining area and an extra bedroom that Elisabeth and Mark can rest their heads in. In May Dean and I spent almost a week in the Smoky Mountain region of our beautiful states.  Experienced the AirBnB hospitality for this vacation. We loved Gatlinburg, TN and Asheville, NC.  Antiques, the arts, and foodie places were our hangouts. Of course, a few walks in the woods. There was a sign warning us, and you know the saying “hindsight is 20/20”. Dean drove the Dragon’s Tail Highway with all its hairpin turns, not understanding what we were in for.  I was very close to losing lunch during that ride. We tried the glamper scene one night in the middle of nowhere land. And we stopped in Nashville for a night. Love the nightlife there with all the honky-tonks and country music.

Weekend trips to Lee’s Summit and Farmington keep us on the road at least once a month visiting with children, grandchildren, and Dean’s parents.  When we are home we read, write, catch a music venue or new foodie joint in St. Louis.  And there is always those weekend chores.  We garden and mow at the greenhouse site on Boone Hollow Farm near Defiance 7 or 8 months out of the year. This year’s gardening included a voluntary cherry tomato plant that literally took over the whole vegetable bed from July until the October frost killed it.  We dubbed this plant as “Audrey” from the play/movie Little Shoppe of Horror. We made a delicious green tomato marmalade from the abundance of fruit left after the killing frost.  Our perennials are inside now, and our bird of paradise is about to bloom again under the plant lights in the garage.  Autumn brought Dean and I a steal-away weekend to Pella, Iowa.  We loved this Dutch town so much, we are planning a Mother’s Day weekend there with our mothers.

My occupation as the employee wellness coordinator of St. Louis County is the work God called me to this season of my life.  We had our Billion Steps Challenge using Fitbits and a web portal called One Community.  With two 8-week walking challenges this spring and summer, we cleared the 1 billion steps goal and went well over 2 billion steps amongst 2800 participating employees and spouses.  I have been asked to speak along with a panel at the St. Louis area American Heart Association’s Wellness Forum in February discussing employer wellness budgets on a shoestring.  Personally, my biometric numbers were improved substantially with the walking challenges, and my primary care physician is thrilled.  The walking culture continues through winter.  Dean, Midnight, and I still take an evening constitutional almost every night.  At 20 degree temps, I declined tonight. Hives or worse a visit to the emergency room would not be good.  Dean’s occupation with the National Archives keeps him going, and work he was called to as well.  He loves the hunt for military records especially for his family and friends.

Our youngest granddaughter, Elise has captured her Grandpa Dean’s heart.  I think he counts the days until he can see her again.  This Father’s Day was a wonderful gathering of Dean’s children and their families with us at our home. The red children’s swing in our sweet gum tree remind us of that special weekend.  We had a Gall Family Thanksgiving  at Rainer and Erica’s newly bought house in St. Louis City, and a birthday gathering for Dean the following day at a local bakery cafe. Another day that weekend we celebrated my oldest grandchild, Hannah’s 16th birthday.  Church every Sunday and occasional birthday celebrations and plays keeps us in touch with my mother and family. While celebrations and victories punctuate our year, so does illness and death. Dean’s extended family lost a cousin recently. Cancer, this wicked stuff.  Keep Mike’s wife, Terri and 2 daughters in your prayers please.  Another extended family member is undergoing treatments ; please say a prayer for Marion, our son-in-law’s father.  My oldest daughter, Rachel has multiple medical conditions, her conditions declining, which cause severe pain.   In 2018 I plan to take more time off from work each month to help Rachel with the kids and house.  Please bathe Rachel in your prayers.

What room do you have in your heart, home, and life for the least of these My brothers?  What has God prepared you for this very night, or the 365 days in 2018?  Blessings to you this eve of Jesus Christ’s birth.  As the carols sing … “Christ was born to save!  Christ was born to save!”… “He rules the world with truth and grace and makes the nations prove the glories of His righteousness and wonders of His love, and wonders of His love, and wonders, wonders of His love.” Joy to the world!

A Seed

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“What shape waits in the seed of you to grow and spread its branches against a future sky?” author David Whyte writes.  So much hope from a seed.  And the size of the seed does not matter according to Jesus’ parable. “The simple truth is that if you had a mere kernel of faith, a poppy seed, say, you would tell this mountain, ‘move!’ and it would move. There is nothing you wouldn’t be able to tackle.” (The Message Bible).

Just how complex God has made each of us, “fearfully and wonderfully made”. Holy words to behold …  From seed to a tree … providing beauty to delight in, cooling shade to the weary, whispered wisdom from the leaves in the breeze, wood for a warm fire, roots as a foundation, fruit for the hungry, and sweet sap for those special moments.   Is not that a mother to her child?  A grandchild to a grandparent?  A man to his kin?

 

From seed to a tree, we each grow to be.  Taking care of self and our brother. Each can learn from the other. Growing branches at different directions, new skies to explore, yet rooted in the love of family and friends. Faith in self and who our God is, our Perfect Father.

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A Dizzy Daze or Simply Sacred Season

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My best Christmas was the year my son, Ben was born. He came to this earth the Saturday after Thanksgiving 22 years ago. Ben was my “oops baby”. Not planned for, but dearly wanted and loved. My son acquired pneumonia immediately after birth from a strep B virus I carried, which I did not know I had. A scary time, but Ben quickly recovered with hospital care his first 10 days. Within a few days I had my energy and strength back, made daily visits to see my son sometimes twice a day to cuddle and nurse.
I knew I would not have the energy or time to enter into the stores those first 3 or 4 weeks after my son’s birth. So I planned ahead, and had all the Christmas shopping completed before Thanksgiving. In those 28 days after Ben’s birth leading to Christmas I adjusted my sleep to his feeding and napping schedule. It had been 9 years before that when my middle child was a baby. I worked from home as the bookkeeper for our church, and was graciously given the month off from those responsibilities. Instead, I meandered into the advent season, wrapped gifts between naps and feedings. The silver pine was decorated one evening after my daughters’ homework was completed. Cookie baking with my mother during the Saturday just before Christmas was done with ease. I meditated on scripture and sang “O Holy Night” with feeling. Joy. Celebrated the miracle of my baby. It was a simply sacred season.
Since that year of 1992, I have yet to have all my holiday shopping completed by Thanksgiving. For many years, I am well into Christmas Eve almost into the wee hours of Christmas Day wrapping gifts to put under the tree. A dizzy daze the Christmas season can be. And how did it get that way? Too many parties, gifts, food, family, and expectations. Advent is lost, sometimes found again in those wee hours of Christmas Day before the pitter-patter of children’s feet as they hit the floor running to see what presents have been placed under the glowing tree.
“Advent” means “coming”. Jesus, the King and our Messiah is coming. I pray you and I have a simply sacred season this holiday. Less shopping, baking, eating, and doing. Just be in His Presence. Come, Jesus. God’s gift.