Remember Me?

It has been so long since I posted any random thoughts of any sort that you have probably imagined that I had disappeared.

Nope. Here I am.

I have been busy with odd things. After several months of procrastinating about it, I read four books on the Psalms and then wrote a reasonably intelligent paper on them. I had 12 months to do this class, and I turned the paper in 36 hours before the deadline. As one of my friends always says, "The lazy man works harder."

As if the Psalms weren't enough to swallow me whole, we are now in the midst of an unplanned mini-remodel, inspired by the accidental flooding of the downstairs. (complements of an unattended hose left by the back door.)

Feeling a bit overwhelmed by this series of events, I have found less time than usual to write - or even to think. I have also found less time to knit, to scrapbook, and to go for long walks. Today I noticed that the leaves on our tiny new Japanese Maple had turned red. When had this happened? The tree is in a pot in the front yard, and I pass it daily. How did I get so preoccupied with the mundane things that I did not notice something as amazing as the turning of the leaves?

Daughter Two looked forward to Halloween for weeks. She planned her costume. She was a princess, which, for her is more of a lifestyle than a costume. She selected and decorated her trick-or-treat bag so that it was fit for a princess and - more importantly - big enough to hold the loot. She practiced saying, "Trick or Treat, please."

On the big day, she spent a wonderful hour at the church Harvest Party. She played the games, collected candy, giggled with friends, and even won a cake on the Cake Walk. After the party, she was set to go trick-or-treating for an hour with Daughter One and a teenage family friend. This was the highlight, the activity about which she had been talking for weeks.

She was back in ten minutes.

Her explanation: "I have enough candy."

I thought about that for quite awhile. "I have enough." Do I sometimes forget to notice when I "have enough?" An obvious example is food; I've lost 39 pounds thus far and recognizing when I've had enough is part of that victory. But it is more than that.

There will always be unfinished projects. There are always more things that "should" be done. So, I am learning to say, "That's enough." That's enough work for today, it's time to play. If I never take Daughter Two to the Aquarium while there is laundry to do, then we will never get to the Aquarium. If I never take Daughter One out for tea when the house is untidy, we will never go out for tea. If I never take a walk with my husband when there are unfinished to-do lists posted on the refrigerator, we will never go for a walk.

Between dealing with the mess from the flood, helping Daughter One deal with school, taking enough classes to keep my teaching certificate, juggling the household, and gearing up for the holidays, my life can so easily become an unending series of to-do lists. Indeed, just a few minutes ago I created a list of at least 25 items - large and small - that I hope to tackle tomorrow.

This is rambling a bit, so here's my point: Maybe instead of being so disciplined to get everything finished, I need to be disciplined to be able to say, "That's enough for now," and to turn my back on the work and my face toward the sheer joy of living. relaxing. playing. whatever.

After all, I am not valuable because of what I do, I am valuable because God IS.

Play hard this week.

A Small Goal Reached

Just a quick note that has nothing to do with the European adventure!

I reached a milestone yesterday. I have now lost as much weight as Daughter Two weighs!

36 pounds and counting. Now when I feel a bit discouraged in the weight loss adventure, I just pick up my ever-growing-getting-bigger-by-the-day-about-to-turn-four-year-old sweetie and celebrate that I am not carrying that amount of weight on me anymore.

Except, of course, when I am carrying HER, lol!

I'm Back!

Okay, that was fun. REALLY fun!!! Michael and I just returned from an eleven day trip to Europe, more or less equally divided between London, Paris, and Rome. As we went along I kept writing blogs in my head - I saw so many amazing things that my brain was always whirring about - but I never took that time to sit down and write. Yes, I passed many Internet cafes. Yes, I could have taken the time; I just didn't, because life was way too exciting and I could not possibly sit still long enough to write!

The fallout from that is that I will be blogging about the London-Paris-Rome experience for quite some time. I will try not to sound too much like a travel log. :)

Remember that song from Lion King, Circle of Life by Elton John? My favorite line is, "There is more to do than can ever be done." Being reasonably intelligent creatures, Michael and I knew from the start that we could never "do" a European city in three days, so we researched carefully and planned our days to make the best use of our time and resources. We saw quite a bit, and we enjoyed ourselves immensely. But, alas, there is quite a bit not-yet-done however, so we will need to go back. About halfway through this adventure Michael stopped referring to it as a "trip of a lifetime," and confided that he hoped to do many more such trips in his lifetime. :)

In London, we had the chance to visit St. Paul's Cathedral. As I am a huge fan of the movie Mary Poppins, Michael took a photograph of me sitting on the steps of St. Paul's just like the Bird Lady in the movie. There were a few pigeons around, but I did not "feed the birds," as I did not wish to get myself in trouble with the local bobby! Just like in my hometown of Seattle, feeding the birds is frowned upon in London.

In the other photograph, we have just climbed to the top of the dome of St. Paul's - 533 steps. What a view!

One of the coolest things about St. Paul's is that, although it is not a Parish church (there is a more modest structure next door that meets the needs of the neighborhood), it IS a place of worship, dedicated to God. Every hour, on the hour, all touring stops as those who are inclined, stop to pray. It was very moving to join others from all over the world in reciting the Lord's Prayer. The woman standing next to me was intentionally (but respectfully) silent and she posed herself in a manner so that it was obvious that she was NOT praying, but I noticed afterward that she had tears in her eyes. I wonder about her...did she once have a close friendship with God that has eroded? Did she never know Him but still has that hunger? I will never know. I just wonder.

In Paris, we attended the International Mass at Notre Dame. No, we are not Catholic. Everyone is welcome to attend; all Christians are even invited to participate in communion.

I THINK the Notre Dame service was in French, and all the singing was in Latin, but I am no scholar of languages. Not being able to follow that text, I allowed my eyes to wander around the great cathedral and just enjoy where I was, so I was surprised when God wrote a quiet, personal sermon for me in my heart: God is God; Tori is not God. Relax. :)

More (and more and more and more) later.

Carpe Diem.

Off We Go!

I’m so excited I cannot sleep, although sleeping would be a good idea, as I am getting up at 2:00am!

We are leaving for Europe – London, Paris, and Rome. Just the two of us. Just for fun.

I used to say that I “never really went anywhere,” but in the last few years I managed to get to China (adoption of Daughter Two), and then to Hawaii (25th anniversary splurge). And now I am headed to Europe. Who would have thought?

They say that travel is broadening and I imagine that “they” are right. Of all the really cool things we saw in China, the thing that stands out most to me is how much it really is the same as home. Families enjoying a Sunday out in the same park where we enjoyed the street musicians, carnival rides, and cotton candy. Business people rushing home after a satisfying day at work, hurrying to grab a few precious hours of family time and relaxation before turning in. It occurred to me that, almost without exception, everyone in the world wants the same thing: to be safe, to be loved, to be useful, and to become the best of whoever they are inside. And they want these dreams for their children as well.

I always knew this; I just saw it more clearly when I went to China. I saw that, in spite of spicy eel-back meat and green bean popsicles, it is exactly the same as home.

Now I’m off several thousand miles the other direction. As I take in Westminster Abbey, the Louvre, and Vatican City, I imagine that I will rub shoulders – and exchange smiles with – a whole bunch of people who speak, eat, and dress differently than I do, but who are, in all important ways, exactly the same!

Blooming

My Mother can make any houseplant bloom and grow. She has no magical "southern exposure" window, no secret-recipe fertilizing compound, no training in botany. She simply has a green thumb.

This has been a family legend for years. Once, while doing a super-tidy in my home when my parents were on their way to town, I tossed out a mostly-dead, very ugly houseplant. It had been hanging on by a thread - well, more literally, by about two straggly leaves! - for some time, and I was tired of trying to make it happy, so I tossed it in the trash.

My parents arrived. Inevitably, my mother opened the trash can, saw the discarded plant, and retrieved it. We joked about the poor little thing, and she tucked it away with her belongings.

Six months later I was visiting my parents' home and noticed a new plant - a large healthy, dark green bushy thing sporting small white flowers. "Nice plant," I commented, "Where did it come from?"

"Your trash," my Mother replied, just a bit smugly.

Now, this post could be about our throwaway society, and how we need to repair and nurture, not toss out - a subject upon which I am passionate - but this post is simply about my houseplants.

A few years back my Mother gave me several little leaves she had plucked out of her African violets. She instructed me to place them in water until they rooted, plant them, and then eventually they would grow into beautiful blooming African violets. (I think the key word here is eventually.)

This seemed like quite a bit of work for such a small reward, especially since a person can purchase an African violet - in bloom - for about 5 dollars. But, she is my Mother, so I followed the instructions. Sure enough, the bottom of the leaves grew little hairy roots. I carefully planted them. They didn't do much for some time, but then quite suddenly the leaves multiplied and the plant began to look like something.

Now, 3 years into this project, the first pink blossoms are appearing. I have to admit that it is very satisfying to have grown it from a leaf. Just like it is more pleasing to bake a loaf of bread than to buy one, and more fulfilling to knit a sweater than to purchase one. And, everyone knows that it is much tastier to grow a tomato than to pick one up at the store! It is good to be part of building something beautiful. All it takes is a bit of time and a willingness to work. It all turns out eventually.

Blueprints

Our sweet neighbors were burnt out of their home many weeks ago. It has been so many weeks ago now that we on the street are puzzled at how quiet it is over there.

Following the fire, our little street was a beehive of activity: fire trucks & fire engines, aid cars, the fire chief's own vehicle, Red Cross representives, animal control, and someone from the city whose purpose I never did learn. As afternoon eased into evening on that crazy day, the parade continued: the fire department showed up every hour or so to keep an eyes on things, the police rolled by every so often, the insurance company sent a contractor to board up the windows, and then, just as things got quiet, an alarming number of dog walkers and joggers stopped to gawk as they "just happened to be passing by" our tiny deadend street. Over the next few days and weeks, investigators, adjustors, and salvagers came and went.

What a circus!

But now, it is quiet. It has been almost 12 weeks since the insurance company made the decision to have the house demolished and rebuilt. It has been at least 6 weeks since anyone has attempted to enter the burnt-out shell for any reason...unless you count the family of boisterous raccoons that had to be evicted.

I expected the demolition and rebuilding to begin in May, but nothing happened. June and July passed; it is now the middle of August and there is no sign of activity.

I asked the family what was happening, and was puzzled by the answer: they do not wish to bulldoze the house until they have a complete plan for the new one. They acknowledge that any plan for a new home will include demolishing the old house and clearing the property, but they cannot quite bring themselves to start this process until they know exactly how it will all end. The old house is worthless, but they cling to it because it is here and it is known; the new house - as beautiful and useful as it will be - is not yet visable.

If someone were to ask my advice - alas, no one has! - I would saythis: "Let it go and let God give you more than you imagine."

When I was 15 years old I met a young man and immediately fell in love. We were just good friends for years, and began dating unexpectedly when I was a senior in high school. We were obviously too young to be serious, but I knew in my heart he was the one. A few happy years passed - we stumble into our fledgling adulthood, a part of a supportive group of young Christian friends, still dating regularly, but not really considering the future. Then, suddently, we broke up. I never really understood why, and I don't believe he did either.

I was stunned, and immediately started bargaining with God about the whole thing. In all my 19-year-old wisdom and maturity, I explained to God how this young man and I could do great things for God if only He (God) would arrange for the other he (my young man) and I to get back together. I had a plan. I have always been good with plans.

God did not rise to the challenge of fulfilling my plan, which surprised me at the time. After several weeks of wrestling with God over this issue, I found myself on my knees - actually, flat on my face - acknowledging that God was God and I was not God - now, there's a revelation! - and that I would serve Him no matter what He chose to do or chose not to do in my life. After the darkest night my young soul had known, I let that young man go. Just let him go.

The story has twist...we will celebrate our 27th wedding anniversary this week. :)

Although the growth has been irradict, I have, over the years, gotten much better at letting God make the plans instead of just trying to get Him to approve mine. I am learning to let him clear away the old things and start rebuilding the new even before I know all the details.

More on this later.

Camping

As was promised, we went camping for a few nights last week. It was - as camping always is - an amazing procession of packing and loading the car, unpacking and setting up the campsite, repacking and reloading the car, and then unloading, unpacking, and putting everything away again. Daughter One was a bit surprised, I believe, at the sheer volume of the movement of objects that camping entails.

Between us, Daughters One & Two and I set up camp. We brought the tiny tents so that (not having the Amazing Husband/Father along) we could set them up independently. Daughter One took charge and made a nice sleeping compound with two tents and a tarp. Very charming and cozy...we were warm and snuggly even the night of the thunderstorm, lol. I set up the kitchen, out of which we all enjoyed a steady stream of snacks and meals.

It turns out that we were the only family truly "camping." Each of the other families turned up in amazing motor homes outfitted with all the conveniences of home. Sorry, guys, if you are reading this, but you have to admit that you looked pretty funny...a stately parade of huge, portable homes, perched primly along the campsites, filled to the brim with happy campers "roughing it."

Camping was great fun! Despite her initial skepticism when she saw we didn't have a "house" like the others, Daughter Two loved tent camping. Despite her worries that there would be no one her age, Daughter One had a great time swimming and goofing around with the other children. Highlights for me included solving the mysteries of the camp stove and rowing assorted children around the lake in a canoe.

I can ramble on and on about our pleasant camping trip - indeed, I seem to be doing so! - but I really do have a point. Here it is:

On the second night of camping, all four families ate together. It was so tasty - satisfying in the way that only good food eaten outdoors after a day of activity can be. There were melt-in-your-mouth steaks, beautifully grilled, and fresh sweet corn on the cob, perfectly steamed in their husks. We brought our offering - red grapes and a box of chocolate cookies, and laid them on the groaning board. Both were much welcome, especially by the children, but as I looked at my grapes and cookies, I smiled at their modesty. I had brought them because they were what we had.

Now, as nice as grapes and cookies can be, they are not in the same league as grilled steak and fresh corn on the cob. This reminds me a bit of my relationship with God. When you think about it, what I am and what I have to offer God, compared to who He is and what He has to offer me, is ridiculous! And yet, when I bring to him what I have...my talents, my treasures, my time, He, in return, provides for me abundantly. I am invited to feast upon the steak and corn He brings, not only upon the grapes and cookies that I have provided. God is not "fair" and "just" in the way we think of these words. He is generous and forgiving, loving and giving to a degree that we can barely perceive.. He gives over and above. Always. Just because He loves me. Wow!