Slipping Down the Ladder

I have one married child. A second one is taking that plunge in little more than a month. It's a happy occasion, but bittersweet. Every parent has to recognize that they are now just a little further from the center of their child's affections. This does not mean that the child cares less for you, but that others, spouses for starters and children later, have stepped in front of you. This is as it should be.

Oftentimes this is also the beginning of a deeper revelation for the child of just what you gave to them, sacrificed for them, and how you blessed their lives. They find themselves now following your example, and feeling the cost. Then there will come this moment when the light blazes on. It might be triggered by something that touches them, but more likely by an act of their child in which they recognized themselves. Perhaps it was an act of deep ingratitude, or careless acceptance of a great sacrifice. And they understand how thoughtless a child can be and how much the child will take your best for granted.

I am fortunate. All of my children have eyes to see. And I have eyes to see, too. I see signs that they will outshine me as parents. I weep for my faults. I rejoice in their gains.

I am fortunate in what I was given. My parents did the best they knew how.

So although we continue throughout our lives to slip down our children's ladders of prominent place, if we are lucky, they will treasure where they came from.

Paying Up

It's been a mild winter. Not much snow. Only a few bitterly cold days. Lots of sunshine. I shoveled the sidewalk once. It didn't really need it. We haven't used our fireplace as much. My car never slid on the road, and the tires never started spinning without traction. One gets the feeling we're going to cruise right through this season and never quite experience it. There's been nothing to it.

Few challenges in life are like that. I don't mean the things we worry about that never happen, but the things that are unavoidable and unwelcome. Only a lucky few can get through life without a trip to the dentist to fill a cavity, or win that scholarship that would have made getting an education so much more reachable, or land the job of their dreams before the old sheepskin has gathered any dust. We do our best to brush and floss, study hard, and write the perfect resume. Cavities, hard under-rewarded work, and lost careers happen to most of us.

There are a lot of trite things said about challenges--mostly overcoming them. I like to think of them as the hot sauce in the chili, the burn in the whiskey, the ouch in the band-aide pulled off a hairy limb. They bring tears to your eyes. Pain reminds you you're alive, and that's a good thing!

So as I look out on an unseasonably warm winter day, squinting at the brightness of it and notice the buds swelling much too soon, I am uneasy at the easyness of this weather. I like to pay as I go and distrust situations where the bottom line is something unknown and brushed off. When the bill comes in, I'll have to pay the price.

I distrust this winter. Come spring the bill may come due. I don't want my spring bulbs to pay the price.

Surviving the Song of the Season

I struggle with Christmas. You're heard all this before about returning to the real meaning of Christmas. Simplifying. Focusing on the Incarnation instead of the inhalation of as many parties, gifts and food as possible. The season is turning into a celebration of family. "Make someone happy this year." "Get the family together." "Make this the best Christmas ever."

I have no arguments about quality family time, letting those you love know you love them. But sometimes I feel this desperate urge to retreat from everyone so that I can remember the Someone who made me able to love, give and have hope.

About a year ago, I realized that I do have a few special minutes in all the holiday bustle where it all becomes clear. These few minutes are Christmas to me. I anticipate the moment, and usually weep for joy when they come. This is it: our family tradition was always to play one particular song on Christmas morning. That was the signal for all the kids upstairs that they could come down and start the fun. The song is this: (Done by "Glad--Acapella Project)

In the first light of a new day
No one knew He had arrived
Things continued as they had been
While a new born softly cried.

But the heavens wrapped in wonder
Knew the meaning of His birth
In the weakness of a baby
They knew God had come to earth.

As His mother held him closely,
It was hard to understand
That her baby not yet speaking
Was the Word of God to man.

He would tell them of His kingdom,
But their hearts would not believe
They would hate Him and in anger
They would nail Him to a tree.

But the sadness would be broken
As the song of life arose
And the First born of creation
Would ascend and take his throne.

He has left it to redeem us,
But before His life began
He knew He´d come back not as a baby
But as The Lord of ev´ry man.

Hear the angels as they´re singing
On the morning of His birth
But how much greater will our song be
When He comes again
When He comes again

Hear the angels as they´re singing
On the morning of His birth
But how much greater will our song be
When He comes again to Earth

When He comes to rule the Earth!

If you have not heard this song, I believe you can hear it on iTunes. I'm no music buff, but this moves me like no other song. If you could go to heaven for one single deed, I believe the singer in this song would deserve that reward for hitting that one last note--piercingly beautiful--sometimes I wonder if I will survive till he finishes that note!

Unwelcome Visitor

He stamps and glares

And gives a shake

Clearly disapproving,

But I insist he trot along

And tap the glass

To get him moving.

An astounding leap

And off he bounds

Into the woods at hand.

He looks back once

And sees me there

Making good on my demand.

Perhaps now the birds

Might have a chance

To get themselves some dinner.

They'd best be quick

Cause that squirrel I know

Ain't getting any thinner.

Considering politics and race

And concerns of life and rights

It saddens me to see my place

Is mostly shades of red and whites

While my brethren of the African hue

Are mostly inclined toward black and blue.

Flash from the Past

Just thought you'd want to know that since light travels at 186,282 feet per second, if you stood 5 feet away from a mirror and looked at yourself, you would see something special. The image that bounces back to your eyes is what you looked like .0000536 seconds ago. A real flash from the past!

A Whisper in the Garden

In the past few weeks some packages arrived for me. They were lily bulbs I ordered last spring and totally forgot about. That's what I love about ordering plant materials. You give yourself a gift by doing it, then you tend to shove them to the back of your mind. When they arrive they are a surprise present all over again. I was glad that I saved a pile of compost from the summer activities, so that I could enrich the soil as I buried them for the winter. Come next spring, they will come up and I will be surprised again--another gift arriving.
I went in for lilies in a big way this year, and if I'm lucky and persistent, I may even get some photos from the garden catalog posted here... Three kinds of lilies, all different heights.
Planting bulbs is an act of hope. I am willing to wait until mid- to late-summer to receive my reward. I'll have some nurturing to do in the meantime, but I garden to grow in patience. I garden to be stunned by beauty. I garden to remind myself that there is something to hope for. The flowers are just a whisper of the promise.