Missing Leah

Today I missed Leah more than usual. Maybe it was working on a dress for my other precious granddaughter that made me think about Leah. Maybe it was looking at pictures of her. I keep her picture as my backdrop on my cell phone so everyday I see her. This afternoon when I was laying down (yes, I often take naps), I could almost hear her little seizure noises. I know I don't feel even half the emptiness that Kristine or Luke does, but it still feels like a wound that is not easily healed. It does make me long for heaven. To see Leah will be a joy that will only be unequaled by the joy of seeing my Savior.

Fridays

Fridays are wonderful. The kids are in school and it's Rick's day off. That combination makes for a fun, relaxing day. Today we had our coffee and tea out by the chicken coop. Watching their antics and enjoying a good conversation is a great start to a Friday. We usually go out to lunch of Friday. Today it is Panera Bread, one of our favorite places. The rest of the day will be filled with yard work, a trip to Home Depot and more home projects. I find myself looking forward to Fridays all week.

Getting Old

Today was a realization of my age. I spent some time today looking at assisted living facilities online for my father and mother-in-law. When Dad gets out of the hospital in the next week or two he most likely will have to be in an assisted living center. It was my first exposure to these kinds of places. I can see a complicated decision for Rick's family in the near future.

Then this morning I started cleaning out our homeschool cabinet. We have not used many things in there for the last 3 or 4 years so it was time to empty it out, throw a lot away, give some of it to my granddaughter and just rearrange. It took a lot of time and it was like walking down memory lane. There were many things from preschool years with the children. Crayons, stamps, clay, stencils, etc. All things that saw a lot of use, was it just yesterday or years ago. In my mind I see Kate sitting at the table coloring or making a book with stamps and construction paper. Some of those treasures surfaced today. It made me feel old. My oldest child is nearing 30. How did that happen. My youngest will be an official teenager in just a couple months. Did I just jump over a few years, not pass go and not collect the money! It sure feels like it.

So in a state of depression I drove to the grocery store to buy cat food and while I was there I decided to pick up a six pack. No, not your usual six pack, but a six pack of diet Dr. Pepper. My favorite soda. I figured I could go home, have one for lunch with chips and then hide the rest so none of my kids would say it's not fair that I got pop and they didn't. That's an old parenting technique that goes back a long ways.

On the drive home, I'm feeling depressed, feeling old and tired and I see a bumper sticker on the car ahead of me. It says, "Inside every old person is a young person" . Wow, I think, that is certainly true. Then I get closer and read the small print. "Inside every old person is a young person, wondering how it happened". I laugh the rest of the way home!

Prayer

These thoughts come from Garry Friesen, a professor at Multnomah University, that he wrote concerning prayer. It really resonated with me so I thought I would share them on my blog.

"Worship songs often bid my heart to sing, but not all of them. Very little in me resonates with the song “Sweet Hour of Prayer.” I’m slowly learning to pray, but when I pray for an hour it rarely feels “sweet”. For me the title is “Slaving Hour of Prayer” or worse, “Sleep during the Hour of Prayer.” An hour of prayer for me most resembles a wrestling match. Like Jacob wrestling with the angel. And I long declare like Jacob, “I will not let you leave until you bless me.” I long to kneel like Epaphras who “agonized in prayer” for the Colossians. Why is the high privilege of prayer so difficult? At Christ’s death the veil in the temple was torn from top to bottom and symbolized that we have free access into the Holy of Holies. Why do my feet hesitate rather than running in and taking hold of the mercy seat? I do not know, but I have an inkling. Perhaps prayer is the the most face to face battle with the enemy of our souls, the great dragon, the serpent of old and no one wants to look a powerful enemy in the eyes. Perhaps prayer is the most absolute act of faith. In prayer my feet go nowhere, but must stand on faith alone. My hands make nothing, but must simply be lifted in utter dependence. My voice does not speak for influence, but must cry out to an invisible Sovereign in childlike weakness. Prayer is a horrible reminder that without Him I can do nothing. “Sovereign Lord, I do believe, help my unbelief.”

New Home for the Chickens

I didn't know I would enjoy these chickens so much. But then my mother tells me it's in the family history. My grandmother loved chickens and usually kept several around. So I guess it's in the genes. I have enjoyed taking care of them and just watching them. Because we got them when only one week old they are very tame. One will jump onto my lap whenever I'm sitting in the chicken run. And speaking of the chicken coop and run -- it's nearly complete. We moved the chickens in last week. It was an event. After getting it all set up, we each got a chicken, paraded across the yard, had our picture taken, and then proceeded to introduce the chickens to their new home. They seem to love it. Room to run, room to peck and do all the things chickens do. I'm so thankful I have a husband who can build such a thing. It turned out perfect. My chickens are happy in their new home and I'm happy being a chicken owner!