Last week was absolutely gorgeous here in the Pacific Northwest. My parents and I decided to take advantage of the weather before the notorious rainy days would overtake us, so we set off on an overnight mini-vacation.
We left Thursday morning and headed south to the Eugene area before taking Highway 126 along the McKenzie River. Jack Frost had danced through the region, leaving wide swaths of his footprints behind. I imagine the colors weren't as intense as those on the East Coast this time of year, but they were more than enough for this Oregon girl! Our hearts kept praising God around each new turn in the road.
Back in the 1950s my grandparents had built their house, along with four cottages, at the river's edge. They called them Woodland Cottages and rented them out like motel rooms. We were able to find the obscure sign along the highway and turned in to look over the old homestead. Like many things, it has decayed over the past five decades, but we were able to meet the current owner and share some family stories with her.
We continued climbing higher, driving through the lava fields over McKenzie Pass. United States astronauts trained there in preparation for walking on the moon. There is a desolate beauty to the jagged rocks, punctuated by scattered juniper trees, and encompassed by some of the most beautiful snow-capped mountains in Oregon.
We spent the night smack-dab in the middle of Oregon in the town of Prineville, which is where I was born. The next morning we drove the seventy miles out to Rager Ranger Station, which I believe is the most remote Forest Service station in the US. There were only three families and some single men on the crew that lived there in the 1950s. That lonely outpost held many memories, as that's where my parents lived when they became Christians, where I lived for the first six years of my life, where my brother was born at home (in 1953) in the middle of a December blizzard with the help of my McKenzie River grandma, and where I accepted Christ when I was five. The trip from Prineville, which now takes a little over an hour, used to take two-and-a-half hours on a rutted, unpaved road. We had a great visit with several women foresters who work there, identified my bedroom window in the last house we lived in while there, and pumped water from from a pump at a nearby campground, where I remember my dad holding me up so I'd be tall enough to reach the handle.
I'm sure I'm not the only one with fond memories of a childhood locale. What's your favorite one?
Friday, October 31, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Review of MY SISTER DILLY, by Maureen Lang
This book by Maureen Lang grabbed me from the start. It's about two sister, both women in their own right, but coming at life from two different perspectives. Hannah, who could hardly wait to leave the hog farm and move to California, has returned to help her sister Dilly reintegrate into society upon her release from prison. It reminded me of the story of the prodigal son, or in this case, the prodigal daughter. One daughter who has lived by the rules, and the other who has done the unthinkable and chosen an act that sent her to prison.
Dilly has changed while incarcerated, which is hard for Hannah to understand. As the women rebuild their relationship, several issues arise. Hannah is living in a prison of her own making, tied down by the chains of responsibility and false guilt. Unless she realizes this, and makes some changes, she may miss out on the love of a good man and end up living in an emotional solitary confinement.
I have read several Maureen Lang books, but this is my favorite. The storyline is unique and thought-provoking, with characters who reach out to the reader from the pages of the book. In my rating system of one to five mochas, I give My Sister Dilly a four-and-a-half. Pick up a mug of your own mocha and settle in for a great read.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
The Dog Days of Summer
My husband met me at the garage, machete in hand. Was he protecting me from a home invasion? Or perhaps Bruce Willis was filming his latest action movie in our house and John was making an appearance as a movie extra.
My dream of being the wife of the newest cinema heartthrob was dashed when John answered my unasked question. "Shadow's stuck in the blackberry bushes by the orchard."
Shadow and her sister Jasmine are three-year-old purebred black labs that belong to my daughter's family. Their whole lives, the dogs have had to stay inside a nice kennel my son-in-law built for them, as they were always running off our property (fifteen acres isn't big enough?) and bothering our neighbors. Just the past few weeks they have started sticking close to home when let out of their enclosure.
I asked John how he knew Shadow was stuck. "Jasmine came up to me while I was working in the garage, and told me 'Timmy fell in the well.' She led me through the forest, toward the neighbor's cherry orchard. I could hear her whining up in the blackberry bushes, so I came back to get something to chop my way to her, as the bushes are really overgrown in that area."
I'm not a great dog lover, but even I was moved by Shadow's plight. I followed John into the forest so I could watch my man at work. He started at the foot of the slope, hacking his way toward the yelping dog, but after fifteen minutes became stymied by growth so thick he couldn't penetrate it.
Back through the woods to put on clothing that would be better protection from the thorns--his thick coveralls and a hat-- and find better tools in the garage. He decided that between two machetes, hedge clippers, and the lopping shears, he should be able to rescue the dog. He used a different approach this time, taking the high ground along the fence line. I stayed down on the pathway, content to call out sweet nothings to Shadow while I tried to keep an eye on John's progress. That word, progress, may not be the right one to use, as it was extremely slow-going on John's part. I soon lost sight of him in the jungle of the Oregon forest, though I could hear his thwacking and every now and then see a bush quiver in fear as this armed man neared it.
After nearly an hour of arm-numbing work, John was able to spy Shadow under some bushes, with her sister Jasmine keeping her company. Turns out she wasn't trapped by the blackberry bush, but had caught the clasp of her collar chain on the wire fence of the orchard, and was unable to move. If no one had been home to hear her pathetic yelps and reach her in time, she could have faced a dire (or should I say die-er) situation.
John finally unhooked her from the fence and both dogs followed us home, eager to lap up two bowls of water, lie down in the shade, and fall into an exhausted nap. But first they had to listen to a lecture on how bad it was of them to run off, that Shadow had a natural consequence for what she had done, and that we never wanted them to do it again!
That experience got me to thinking about how we humans put ourselves in the same kind of situations. God gives us directives about how we should live our lives.("Stay home. Everything is provided for you here.") But we decide that the orchard on the other side of the fence looks like a much more exciting place to be. And the sin that so easily besets us hooks us around the neck, immobilizing our lives, choking off the purpose of our life. It is only when One comes to seek us, clearing away the brambles and reaching down to loose us from our entrapment, that we are able to see that if we follow Him, we are able to lie down and rest.
My dream of being the wife of the newest cinema heartthrob was dashed when John answered my unasked question. "Shadow's stuck in the blackberry bushes by the orchard."
Shadow and her sister Jasmine are three-year-old purebred black labs that belong to my daughter's family. Their whole lives, the dogs have had to stay inside a nice kennel my son-in-law built for them, as they were always running off our property (fifteen acres isn't big enough?) and bothering our neighbors. Just the past few weeks they have started sticking close to home when let out of their enclosure.
I asked John how he knew Shadow was stuck. "Jasmine came up to me while I was working in the garage, and told me 'Timmy fell in the well.' She led me through the forest, toward the neighbor's cherry orchard. I could hear her whining up in the blackberry bushes, so I came back to get something to chop my way to her, as the bushes are really overgrown in that area."
I'm not a great dog lover, but even I was moved by Shadow's plight. I followed John into the forest so I could watch my man at work. He started at the foot of the slope, hacking his way toward the yelping dog, but after fifteen minutes became stymied by growth so thick he couldn't penetrate it.
Back through the woods to put on clothing that would be better protection from the thorns--his thick coveralls and a hat-- and find better tools in the garage. He decided that between two machetes, hedge clippers, and the lopping shears, he should be able to rescue the dog. He used a different approach this time, taking the high ground along the fence line. I stayed down on the pathway, content to call out sweet nothings to Shadow while I tried to keep an eye on John's progress. That word, progress, may not be the right one to use, as it was extremely slow-going on John's part. I soon lost sight of him in the jungle of the Oregon forest, though I could hear his thwacking and every now and then see a bush quiver in fear as this armed man neared it.
After nearly an hour of arm-numbing work, John was able to spy Shadow under some bushes, with her sister Jasmine keeping her company. Turns out she wasn't trapped by the blackberry bush, but had caught the clasp of her collar chain on the wire fence of the orchard, and was unable to move. If no one had been home to hear her pathetic yelps and reach her in time, she could have faced a dire (or should I say die-er) situation.
John finally unhooked her from the fence and both dogs followed us home, eager to lap up two bowls of water, lie down in the shade, and fall into an exhausted nap. But first they had to listen to a lecture on how bad it was of them to run off, that Shadow had a natural consequence for what she had done, and that we never wanted them to do it again!
That experience got me to thinking about how we humans put ourselves in the same kind of situations. God gives us directives about how we should live our lives.("Stay home. Everything is provided for you here.") But we decide that the orchard on the other side of the fence looks like a much more exciting place to be. And the sin that so easily besets us hooks us around the neck, immobilizing our lives, choking off the purpose of our life. It is only when One comes to seek us, clearing away the brambles and reaching down to loose us from our entrapment, that we are able to see that if we follow Him, we are able to lie down and rest.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Book review of Long Journey Home, by Sharlene MacLaren
For those of you who don't already know her, I'd like to introduce my friend, Sharlene MacLaren. As you can see from her photo, she is a beautiful woman with a bubbly personality and zest for life. I met her last fall at the American Christian Fiction Writers conference and have kept in touch with her throughout this past year.
Shar has written several novels and her newest one just came out in stores this week. Whereas her other books I've read have been set in a historical time period, Long Journey Home is a contemporary book dealing with issues rampant in our society.
A young pastor whose beliefs are failing the test of tragedy. A young woman who has dissolved her relationship with an abusive, cheating husband. These two characters, Dan and Callie, are brought together as neighbors, but their proximity leads to a tenuous friendship. Dan battles his anger, guilt, and addictive habit, while Callie is forced to face her lack of trust, which affects her life on many levels. Will these two hurting people be able to overcome the pain in their past? Is it possible to rebuild their lives and walk with the Lord, as well as each other?
This was my favorite Sharlene MacLaren book to date. She captures Dan's and Callie's characters and makes them believable. Throughout the book, the reader is aware something bad is headed down the pike, but never sure of when it will hit. One yearns for Dan to realize how little control he has over life, and for Callie to let down her defenses to the right man.
I give this book a four-mocha rating. It kept my interest and captured my emotions. Pick up a copy at your nearest bookstore and settle in for an enjoyable read.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Men Are From Cyberspace, Women Are From Venus
I've been married for nearly 38 years. You'd think I'd have it down by now. Be aware of the differences between men and women. Able to correctly interpret the secret language that men sometimes speak. But no, not me!
The other morning my husband walked into our bathroom as I was applying my makeup. We hadn't said much more than "good morning" so far that day, so I was surprised when he started a conversation that sounded like it could be pretty serious. He said, "You know, sometimes when we don't seem to be able to connect very well ..." My mind immediately turned to issues that seem to make us out of sync. Those problem areas where it seems we may never completely agree. I was impressed that he would be doing such deep thinking so early in the morning, and even more, that he would want to share his feelings with me.
I listened intently, wanting to savor his openness. "...when we don't seem to be able to connect very well, it's usually because the router isn't going to the computer the right way."
So much for my vision of a heartfelt disclosure. Yep, men are from cyberspace, women are from Venus!
The other morning my husband walked into our bathroom as I was applying my makeup. We hadn't said much more than "good morning" so far that day, so I was surprised when he started a conversation that sounded like it could be pretty serious. He said, "You know, sometimes when we don't seem to be able to connect very well ..." My mind immediately turned to issues that seem to make us out of sync. Those problem areas where it seems we may never completely agree. I was impressed that he would be doing such deep thinking so early in the morning, and even more, that he would want to share his feelings with me.
I listened intently, wanting to savor his openness. "...when we don't seem to be able to connect very well, it's usually because the router isn't going to the computer the right way."
So much for my vision of a heartfelt disclosure. Yep, men are from cyberspace, women are from Venus!
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Wisdom From the Back Seat
The other day my 9-year-old granddaughter, Andrea, and I went to pick up her friend and bring her to our house. I had thought her younger brother and sister would be joining us on the play date, but when I arrived, the mother said the two younger ones wouldn't be able to come.
As soon as Andrea and Annika got settled in the back seat, their conversation began:
(Annika) It's really too bad my brother and sister couldn't come, but they weren't acting very nice.
(Andrea) My foster brother will be sad, because I told him we were bringing your brother.
(Annika) But Mom and Dad couldn't let them come, because we have a new rule that if we can't treat each other nice and be friends, then we can't go to a friend's house.
(Andrea) That's a good rule.
(Annika) Yes it is. My brother is usually the one that starts the problem, but then my sister makes it worse. She has the choice of whether she will do the right thing or not, and lots of times she chooses the wrong thing.
(Andrea) That's really too bad. We always have a choice to make.
(Annika) Yes, and that's something I'm really trying to work on. I used to make the wrong choice a lot. But one day at church as I was listening to my dad preach, he said that we all need to learn self-control. And that we can ask God to help us learn that. I've been doing that ever since then, and it has completely changed my life! (Yes, those were the words she used!)
(Andrea) That's great, Annika!
Their conversation segued into who would play with which Barbie, but I was lost in the simple honesty of what I'd just heard. These girls have been best friends their whole lives. There's a trust between them so they're able to share areas they're struggling with and testify to the Lord's power to "completely change" their weaknesses. Maybe we adults should be more like them.
As soon as Andrea and Annika got settled in the back seat, their conversation began:
(Annika) It's really too bad my brother and sister couldn't come, but they weren't acting very nice.
(Andrea) My foster brother will be sad, because I told him we were bringing your brother.
(Annika) But Mom and Dad couldn't let them come, because we have a new rule that if we can't treat each other nice and be friends, then we can't go to a friend's house.
(Andrea) That's a good rule.
(Annika) Yes it is. My brother is usually the one that starts the problem, but then my sister makes it worse. She has the choice of whether she will do the right thing or not, and lots of times she chooses the wrong thing.
(Andrea) That's really too bad. We always have a choice to make.
(Annika) Yes, and that's something I'm really trying to work on. I used to make the wrong choice a lot. But one day at church as I was listening to my dad preach, he said that we all need to learn self-control. And that we can ask God to help us learn that. I've been doing that ever since then, and it has completely changed my life! (Yes, those were the words she used!)
(Andrea) That's great, Annika!
Their conversation segued into who would play with which Barbie, but I was lost in the simple honesty of what I'd just heard. These girls have been best friends their whole lives. There's a trust between them so they're able to share areas they're struggling with and testify to the Lord's power to "completely change" their weaknesses. Maybe we adults should be more like them.
Monday, August 18, 2008
I Knew It Had Been A While, But This is Ridiculous!
Most mornings when I get up, I think, "Yes, this will be it. This will be the day I blog again. After all, it's probably been several weeks since I last wrote. Maybe a month. Possibly two?" Imagine my chagrin (I feel like the Veggie Tale characters that are "shocked and slightly embarrassed" in the Hairbrush song) to find that it's been nearly three months since my last post.
But I have a good excuse! I've been frantically puttering in my laboratory, trying to discover the cure for cancer as well as find a solution to global warming. I'm close, but not quite there.
The reality is, I've spent the summer goofing off. Having fun. Enjoying family. Traveling. Camping. Seeing my best friend from high school. Working on the staff of Oregon Christian Writers Summer Conference. Being a grandparent to my daughter's foster children. Babysitting my five-year-old twin grandkids in Eastern Oregon. Planning and executing a surprise birthday party for my dad's 80th birthday. Celebrating my own. (No, not 80th!)
So that's why you haven't heard from me in days ... weeks ... months. I know if I were more committed, I'd write in the midst of my busyness. That's an area in which I need to become more disciplined. Help keep me accountable!
But I have a good excuse! I've been frantically puttering in my laboratory, trying to discover the cure for cancer as well as find a solution to global warming. I'm close, but not quite there.
The reality is, I've spent the summer goofing off. Having fun. Enjoying family. Traveling. Camping. Seeing my best friend from high school. Working on the staff of Oregon Christian Writers Summer Conference. Being a grandparent to my daughter's foster children. Babysitting my five-year-old twin grandkids in Eastern Oregon. Planning and executing a surprise birthday party for my dad's 80th birthday. Celebrating my own. (No, not 80th!)
So that's why you haven't heard from me in days ... weeks ... months. I know if I were more committed, I'd write in the midst of my busyness. That's an area in which I need to become more disciplined. Help keep me accountable!
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