This will be a quick post this morning, as I'm heading to the beach in just a few minutes. I know ... it's a rough life! I get to go back to the beach house where John took me on our Mystery Weekend last month. My parents were planning on going with us, but they've both been sick with colds and won't be able to make it, We'll have to try to get them over there at a later time.
Friday afternoon Christina and I, along with our dear friend and fellow critique group member, Miriam, drove down to Eugene to be ready to attend the OCW (Oregon Christian Writers) conference the following day. What made this day especially fun was that we were slated for a tour of Harvest House Publishers, given by our own Kim Moore. (We call her our own, because we don't want to share her! What's really funny is that she's turned us down three or four times, and yet continues to believe in us and care about us. Just a really special person in our lives.) Another member of our critique group, Kristen, met us there.
Harvest House is an amazing place. Huge--with lots of offices, a distribution warehouse that looks larger than a Costco, and books everywhere you look. It's like letting a drug addict loose in an opium field! Kim must have seen how badly we needed a fix after spending an hour there, as she graciously invited us to each pick out a book to take home. Thanks, Kim!
We didn't want the good times to stop, so took Kim out to dinner at a cool barbecue place called The Hole in the Wall. We'd eaten there last year and really enjoyed it, so now it's a tradition. Kim was an entertaining dinner guest, full of stories and insights about the writing world. After dinner she invited us over to her house to meet her well-loved cats.
We spent the night at Kristen's grandma's house. Rita capped our evening with pie and tea. Of course we stayed up talking 'til nearly midnight. Do women ever run out of things to talk about?
Saturday morning, after many wrong turns, (none of us had brought directions along) we finally arrived at Northwest Christian University for the conference. It always feels like walking into a family reunion when we attend these events, as we only get to see most of these people at the conferences, which are months apart from each other. Cindy Martinusen Coloma was the keynoter and did a remarkable job. She spoke on "The Call of a Writer" and "The Fictive Life." She had very interesting presentations and I took lots of notes.
Mid-afternoon, Christina and I had the privilege of teaching a class called "Writing in Tandem." We had a good-sized group, with lots of interaction and participation. (I think the candy we brought helped!) It was fun to present things we've learned through our years of writing together.
I realized when I got home that evening that I wasn't tired out. Usually a busy weekend will make me feel draggy, but I think the teaching energized me. But in spite of that, I'm anxious to get to the beach and relax!
Monday, May 18, 2009
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Beware of Dogs with Zits!
A couple of weeks ago my eight-year-old grandson, Joshua, came downstairs to see what I was doing. It was a little after 5 pm and I had the TV news on in the background as I was working on dinner. For some reason the news appeals to Josh, and he sat down to watch it.
"Grandma, they're looking for a pimple."
"What do you mean?" I asked as I continued to chop onions.
"The news says that people in the neighborhood are looking for a big pimple."
Intrigued, I rinsed my hands and joined him on the couch, hoping to figure out what this breaking news was all about. I listened to the newscaster as she said, "Neighbors are on the alert for a large pit bull roaming the neighborhood."
(Say it out loud to yourself--pit bull and pimple sound a lot alike!)
"Grandma, they're looking for a pimple."
"What do you mean?" I asked as I continued to chop onions.
"The news says that people in the neighborhood are looking for a big pimple."
Intrigued, I rinsed my hands and joined him on the couch, hoping to figure out what this breaking news was all about. I listened to the newscaster as she said, "Neighbors are on the alert for a large pit bull roaming the neighborhood."
(Say it out loud to yourself--pit bull and pimple sound a lot alike!)
Monday, May 4, 2009
Getting to First Base
It’s that wonderful time of year in Oregon, when we parents and grandparents get to sit in biting wind and pouring rain to watch our children play baseball or softball. Our umbrellas may be up, their edges dripping water onto the knees of the person sitting behind us on the bleachers, and our blankets tightly wrapped around us, but those little players in the field don’t seem to be bothered much by the weather. Their attention is on the game. They are glad simply to be part of the team.
As I’ve been watching the games this year, I’ve been impressed by how much the young players have to learn. It’s not natural for most of them to have the correct stance, their hands positioned correctly on the bat. Nor is it easy to keep their eyes on the ball and swing at precisely the right second to ensure the bat connects with a resounding thwack! Then there’s the whole matter of making it to base before the ball does. One little girl on the team gently lays the bat on the ground before heading off for first base, as if she’s lovingly placing a doll on her bed before going out to play! It’s hard for her to beat the ball, except for the fact that that it’s usually overthrown, giving her a chance to make it in time.
My granddaughter is fortunate to have our pastor as her coach. This is her first year to play, and his encouragement helps her enjoy the experience. “Good try, Andrea. You’ll get it on this next pitch.” And when she hits it I can hear him say, “I knew you could do it!”
I think it may be like that in our Christian life too. When we first become believers, there are a lot of new things to learn. We’re glad to be part of the team, and we have a general idea of what we’re supposed to do, but are maybe not sure how or why. We need someone who can explain the importance of prayer and Bible reading. The importance of attending church and giving. The importance of serving in some capacity.
Will we always get it right? No, there will be times we strike out. But that doesn’t mean we’re eliminated from the game. As long as we get out on the field, no matter the weather, and listen to the directions of our coach, we’ll find ourselves becoming more proficient in our Christian walk. We’ll find our rhythm and it will become more natural, in a supernatural way, to live the life Christ has for us.
Batter up!
As I’ve been watching the games this year, I’ve been impressed by how much the young players have to learn. It’s not natural for most of them to have the correct stance, their hands positioned correctly on the bat. Nor is it easy to keep their eyes on the ball and swing at precisely the right second to ensure the bat connects with a resounding thwack! Then there’s the whole matter of making it to base before the ball does. One little girl on the team gently lays the bat on the ground before heading off for first base, as if she’s lovingly placing a doll on her bed before going out to play! It’s hard for her to beat the ball, except for the fact that that it’s usually overthrown, giving her a chance to make it in time.
My granddaughter is fortunate to have our pastor as her coach. This is her first year to play, and his encouragement helps her enjoy the experience. “Good try, Andrea. You’ll get it on this next pitch.” And when she hits it I can hear him say, “I knew you could do it!”
I think it may be like that in our Christian life too. When we first become believers, there are a lot of new things to learn. We’re glad to be part of the team, and we have a general idea of what we’re supposed to do, but are maybe not sure how or why. We need someone who can explain the importance of prayer and Bible reading. The importance of attending church and giving. The importance of serving in some capacity.
Will we always get it right? No, there will be times we strike out. But that doesn’t mean we’re eliminated from the game. As long as we get out on the field, no matter the weather, and listen to the directions of our coach, we’ll find ourselves becoming more proficient in our Christian walk. We’ll find our rhythm and it will become more natural, in a supernatural way, to live the life Christ has for us.
Batter up!
Sunday, April 26, 2009
An Evening of Gentility
Last weekend John and I were part of something that is quite unusual in our modern culture--an evening of gentility. He teaches at Veritas School, which provides a classical education for kindergarten through twelfth grade. Yes, they even learn Latin!
The biggest social event of their year is Protocol. This is something that all high schoolers can attend, but is in honor of the seniors. Seating is limited, so not all staff are invited. But John and I received an invitation this year, and it was a joy to participate.
It was held at the country club in Wilsonville. All the girls wore floor-length gowns in spring colors. No blacks. We women could wear knee-length dresses, which was a blessing for me since I'm so tall it would be nearly impossible to find a long gown. The boys and men all wore suits and ties.
Round tables for eight were covered with crisp white tablecloths, a beautiful arrangement of flowers gracing the center. Each table was hosted by a senior student, who was responsible to see that the conversation didn't lag. We had no problem with that at our table! John and I were the only adults and really enjoyed the students we shared the four-course meal with.
So what made this evening so genteel? The gorgeous setting certainly helped. The teens were polite and showed wonderful manners. The males at each table rose whenever a woman stood to leave or return to the table. I've never seen that happen any place but in books! Toasts were made to each senior, often by a younger brother or sister. The sentiments were heartfelt, often resulting in tears by the honoree, and sometimes by the person offering the toast. And the dancing--it was like nothing I've seen outside of movies. The young ladies stood on one side of the room, the young men on the other. They would approach the women and ask for the "pleasure of this dance" then escort them to that side of the room when the dance was through, and tell them thank you.
The dancing itself was very unusual, in a good way. It began with the Grand March, which was like something out of Jane Austen. There was a grand promenade, with weaving back and forth, in and out, between the other couples. They did the Virginia Reel, an Irish dance, and a waltz. No bodies pressed closely together, feet barely moving. Nothing like the sensual atmosphere that permeates most dances nowadays. The whole event was done so well--everyone had fun and it honored Christ. I hope we get an invitation again next year!
The biggest social event of their year is Protocol. This is something that all high schoolers can attend, but is in honor of the seniors. Seating is limited, so not all staff are invited. But John and I received an invitation this year, and it was a joy to participate.
It was held at the country club in Wilsonville. All the girls wore floor-length gowns in spring colors. No blacks. We women could wear knee-length dresses, which was a blessing for me since I'm so tall it would be nearly impossible to find a long gown. The boys and men all wore suits and ties.
Round tables for eight were covered with crisp white tablecloths, a beautiful arrangement of flowers gracing the center. Each table was hosted by a senior student, who was responsible to see that the conversation didn't lag. We had no problem with that at our table! John and I were the only adults and really enjoyed the students we shared the four-course meal with.
So what made this evening so genteel? The gorgeous setting certainly helped. The teens were polite and showed wonderful manners. The males at each table rose whenever a woman stood to leave or return to the table. I've never seen that happen any place but in books! Toasts were made to each senior, often by a younger brother or sister. The sentiments were heartfelt, often resulting in tears by the honoree, and sometimes by the person offering the toast. And the dancing--it was like nothing I've seen outside of movies. The young ladies stood on one side of the room, the young men on the other. They would approach the women and ask for the "pleasure of this dance" then escort them to that side of the room when the dance was through, and tell them thank you.
The dancing itself was very unusual, in a good way. It began with the Grand March, which was like something out of Jane Austen. There was a grand promenade, with weaving back and forth, in and out, between the other couples. They did the Virginia Reel, an Irish dance, and a waltz. No bodies pressed closely together, feet barely moving. Nothing like the sensual atmosphere that permeates most dances nowadays. The whole event was done so well--everyone had fun and it honored Christ. I hope we get an invitation again next year!
Monday, April 13, 2009
Mystery Weekend Revealed
More than two months ago, before all the upheaval in our lives, John called me from school to ask if I would like to get away for a few days. I'm always up for that! After looking through our calendars, we realized that Easter weekend would be our best opportunity. He didn't tell me where we were going, but that's okay--I like surprises!
A few days later the breakup of Christina's marriage occurred, as well as the ensuing concentrated work of getting the house up on the market. I've worked extremely hard for many weeks, and have felt on the brink of exhaustion. Knowing I had a "mystery date" coming up was one of the things that kept me going.
John and I left mid-afternoon on Thursday and he started driving toward the coast. That's one of my favorite places to go, so I already knew his weekend plans were a success! As we drove through Lincoln City we passed several motels where we've stayed in the past, so I continued to be mystified. Imagine my surprise when he turned off Highway 101 into a gated community at Salishan. What? We didn't know anyone there! He slowly drove down the winding streets (at the posted speed limit of 18 mph it took seven minutes to arrive) and pulled in at a weather-glazed condo on the edge of the beach.
He unlocked the door and we entered a snug 2-story, 3-bedroom, 2-bath condo, decorated in the calming blues of the sea. The west side of the house was a wall of windows overlooking the beach, which was just over a hillock covered with beach grass. Turns out that a couple who are connected with the school John teaches at own the vacation house, and are extremely gracious about inviting friends to go enjoy it. I was nearly moved to tears by their generosity. On the table a bottle of sparkling cider waited for us, along with a gift certificate to a nice restaurant down the road. We felt as if God's blessings were pouring over our heads.
That night we used the gift certificate and ate a wonderful dinner at Tidal Raves in Depoe Bay. The sun was setting and John went outside to capture the beautiful evening.
Friday morning we awoke to sunny skies, which is not a given on the Oregon coast. We went for a long walk on the beach. (Kind of sounds like a singles ad, doesn't it?)
Late that morning I called Christina to tell her where we were and what we were doing. I said I hoped that sometime we'd get invited to come to the house again and maybe we could bring her and the kids with us. That it would give her some healing to her soul.
Around 7 p.m. John and I were preparing dinner together (an activity in The Love Dare book where we'd been held up for weeks) when there was a knock on the door. I asked him to answer it, but stuck my head around the kitchen corner to see who it was. Talk about a surprise! There stood Christina and the children!! They had been in on it from the beginning of the planning all those weeks ago! My joy was complete. John and I had had a wonderful time together as just a couple, and now we got to share it with some of the most special people in our lives. Andrea and Joshua could hardly wait to get down to the beach, and Christina's 2-year-old foster daughter (code name, Angel) was just as excited, though she had no idea what they were talking about since she'd never been to the ocean. (I wish I could share pictures of the kids, but we're not allowed to post photos of Angel.)
In spite of the windy evening, we all donned jackets and went out to introduce little Angel to her new surroundings. She was exuberant about it all. Every time one of us would talk about the waves, Angel would wave her hand. She wasn't afraid when she and Christina were surprised by a sneaker wave (or "sneaky wave," as Angel calls it) and were thoroughly doused by the freezing Pacific.
That night when we were all safely inside the warm house, Angel looked out the window and said, "Where the ocean go?" I explained that it was still out there but that we couldn't see it in the dark. Saturday morning she woke up, ran to the window and exclaimed, "The ocean comed back!"
Saturday was spent relaxing, playing games, and Christina and the kids and I going to the new Hannah Montana movie while John stayed home and practiced violin for his upcoming concert. We all went out for Chinese food that night, then watched a movie when we came home. The word for the day was "relax" and I learned it well.
The kiddos discovered Easter baskets waiting for them Sunday morning, which kept them busy while we packed up. We headed home through the rain, stopping at Church on the Hill in McMinnville to attend one of their four Easter services. (We weren't able to get back to our home church in time for their service.) It was a joyous time of celebrating the resurrection of our Lord and meditating on His goodness to us. I realized that He had prepared this special weekend away even before I knew I had need of it. The depth of His caring is unfathomable.
A few days later the breakup of Christina's marriage occurred, as well as the ensuing concentrated work of getting the house up on the market. I've worked extremely hard for many weeks, and have felt on the brink of exhaustion. Knowing I had a "mystery date" coming up was one of the things that kept me going.
John and I left mid-afternoon on Thursday and he started driving toward the coast. That's one of my favorite places to go, so I already knew his weekend plans were a success! As we drove through Lincoln City we passed several motels where we've stayed in the past, so I continued to be mystified. Imagine my surprise when he turned off Highway 101 into a gated community at Salishan. What? We didn't know anyone there! He slowly drove down the winding streets (at the posted speed limit of 18 mph it took seven minutes to arrive) and pulled in at a weather-glazed condo on the edge of the beach.
He unlocked the door and we entered a snug 2-story, 3-bedroom, 2-bath condo, decorated in the calming blues of the sea. The west side of the house was a wall of windows overlooking the beach, which was just over a hillock covered with beach grass. Turns out that a couple who are connected with the school John teaches at own the vacation house, and are extremely gracious about inviting friends to go enjoy it. I was nearly moved to tears by their generosity. On the table a bottle of sparkling cider waited for us, along with a gift certificate to a nice restaurant down the road. We felt as if God's blessings were pouring over our heads.
That night we used the gift certificate and ate a wonderful dinner at Tidal Raves in Depoe Bay. The sun was setting and John went outside to capture the beautiful evening.
Friday morning we awoke to sunny skies, which is not a given on the Oregon coast. We went for a long walk on the beach. (Kind of sounds like a singles ad, doesn't it?)
Late that morning I called Christina to tell her where we were and what we were doing. I said I hoped that sometime we'd get invited to come to the house again and maybe we could bring her and the kids with us. That it would give her some healing to her soul.
Around 7 p.m. John and I were preparing dinner together (an activity in The Love Dare book where we'd been held up for weeks) when there was a knock on the door. I asked him to answer it, but stuck my head around the kitchen corner to see who it was. Talk about a surprise! There stood Christina and the children!! They had been in on it from the beginning of the planning all those weeks ago! My joy was complete. John and I had had a wonderful time together as just a couple, and now we got to share it with some of the most special people in our lives. Andrea and Joshua could hardly wait to get down to the beach, and Christina's 2-year-old foster daughter (code name, Angel) was just as excited, though she had no idea what they were talking about since she'd never been to the ocean. (I wish I could share pictures of the kids, but we're not allowed to post photos of Angel.)
In spite of the windy evening, we all donned jackets and went out to introduce little Angel to her new surroundings. She was exuberant about it all. Every time one of us would talk about the waves, Angel would wave her hand. She wasn't afraid when she and Christina were surprised by a sneaker wave (or "sneaky wave," as Angel calls it) and were thoroughly doused by the freezing Pacific.
That night when we were all safely inside the warm house, Angel looked out the window and said, "Where the ocean go?" I explained that it was still out there but that we couldn't see it in the dark. Saturday morning she woke up, ran to the window and exclaimed, "The ocean comed back!"
Saturday was spent relaxing, playing games, and Christina and the kids and I going to the new Hannah Montana movie while John stayed home and practiced violin for his upcoming concert. We all went out for Chinese food that night, then watched a movie when we came home. The word for the day was "relax" and I learned it well.
The kiddos discovered Easter baskets waiting for them Sunday morning, which kept them busy while we packed up. We headed home through the rain, stopping at Church on the Hill in McMinnville to attend one of their four Easter services. (We weren't able to get back to our home church in time for their service.) It was a joyous time of celebrating the resurrection of our Lord and meditating on His goodness to us. I realized that He had prepared this special weekend away even before I knew I had need of it. The depth of His caring is unfathomable.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Squeaky Clean
Yes, it's officially Spring, and you know what that means, of course. No, I'm not thinking of baseball, birds in their nests, or warm weather right around the corner. I'm talkin' about Spring Cleaning! That's when we knot a kerchief around our hair, tie an apron around our waist, and carry the a feather duster like a torch in our right hand. Wait ... that's a past generation I'm thinking of. Lucille Ball, June Cleaver, and their friends.
But that's the kind of deep-cleaning I need to do this year, sans the kerchief and apron. We want to get the house on the market by the end of this month. Time is scampering away from us like a two-year-old trying to escape their mother's clutch at bedtime.
Yesterday I spent most of my energy whipping the house into shape. With just John and me living in it, it really doesn't get too out-of-control. But I'd been sick over the weekend and a few things needed my attention. Plus, I don't usually clean with Q-tips. A feather duster, maybe, but not their Mini Me cousin, the Q-tip.
I know those cute little things were designed to clean the outer aspects of my ear, but I must confess I love to dig a little deeper. There's something so satisfying about being able to reach an itch that's just beyond where the tip of my pinkie will reach. Those swabs got a big workout yesterday, as I used them to clean the tracks in our sliding windows, reach into small corners and dig out accumulated dirt, as well as to scratch inside my ear. I even dug out the putty knife to remove extra caulk and plaster around some of the windows. Things I should have done three years ago when we passed our final inspection.
Why is it I've waited until some stranger is going to buy the house before tending to the little details that make it perfect? When we moved here, I told myself I would always keep it in ready-to-sell condition. But my human-ness crept in and here I am doing the nitty-gritty cleaning for someone else to enjoy. I'm sure there's more I could say about this phenomenon, but if you'll excuse me, I've got an itchy ear to attend to!
Saturday, March 7, 2009
When the Roof Caves In
Have you ever been through a major building project or remodel at your home? You know, it always takes longer than estimated and something unexpected is sure to happen along the way. One wrong move and the whole structure of the house is changed, leading to cracked walls and a falling ceiling. The same thing can happen in our personal lives. So, what do you do when life as you know it takes a U-turn? When you’re hit in the gut with devastating news that impacts every aspect of your existence?
During the past month I’ve had to deal with these questions. I’ve gone to places and feelings that I never dreamed would be part of my life.
My initial reaction was to cling. To cling to the Loving Heavenly Father with Whom I’ve developed a relationship and deep trust through the past decades. It’s been a time of realizing that though the circumstances of life are changing in ways I wouldn’t have chosen, the Giver of Life remains the same. God is good all the time. All the time, God is good. I remembered that this incident didn’t take Him by surprise. That there are lessons He desires me to learn as I walk through it, and character traits He wants to develop. The worst thing I can do is to waste this experience—to be the same a year from now as I was before the roof caved in.
I don’t know what challenge you’re facing right now, but know that you don’t have to go through it alone. Cling to the Lord and remember His promises. Turn to Christian friends for prayer and support. Be honest about how you feel. Expect to hurt, but also expect to grow. Accept the peace God offers. And remember He is the one who can put your house back together, even when shingles blow off and beams collapse.
“God will strengthen you with His own great power so that you will not give up when troubles come, but you will be patient.” Colossians 1:11
During the past month I’ve had to deal with these questions. I’ve gone to places and feelings that I never dreamed would be part of my life.
My initial reaction was to cling. To cling to the Loving Heavenly Father with Whom I’ve developed a relationship and deep trust through the past decades. It’s been a time of realizing that though the circumstances of life are changing in ways I wouldn’t have chosen, the Giver of Life remains the same. God is good all the time. All the time, God is good. I remembered that this incident didn’t take Him by surprise. That there are lessons He desires me to learn as I walk through it, and character traits He wants to develop. The worst thing I can do is to waste this experience—to be the same a year from now as I was before the roof caved in.
I don’t know what challenge you’re facing right now, but know that you don’t have to go through it alone. Cling to the Lord and remember His promises. Turn to Christian friends for prayer and support. Be honest about how you feel. Expect to hurt, but also expect to grow. Accept the peace God offers. And remember He is the one who can put your house back together, even when shingles blow off and beams collapse.
“God will strengthen you with His own great power so that you will not give up when troubles come, but you will be patient.” Colossians 1:11
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