CHRISTMAS

December is the month that is usually filled with a multitude of activities that begin on or around the 1st and continue through most of the month. It can be a frustrating time with shopping for just the right gift, trying to buy gifts without overspending, attending a select number of activities either for family or church, and working in the kitchen to bake cakes, cookies, and fudge. Meals can be simple or lavish but at least one meal is usually special and takes a little extra time.

There are a variety of sounds such as Christmas carolers, church choirs, music from special programs designed just for children, and the chiming of bells. Everywhere there is something special to enjoy or appreciate.

This December I will be taking time away from my writing to enjoy the season. I may write from time to time but I will not post anything until the new year. Have a wonderful time this December and take some time just for yourself.

WHEN FLOWER PETALS FALL

The shovel went deep into the rich dark topsoil and found its place about three inches below the surface. Raising the shovel out of the ground, the dirt was stacked haphazardly on top of the ground nearby. A second, third, and a fourth shovel of dirt came out of the hole and the pile of dirt around the hole increased. My morning task was to add some color to the oval-shaped bed near the end of the driveway.

It was late spring and the time to spruce up around the house. For me, it just wasn’t spring if I didn’t plant some type of flowers. I added the fertilizer, some peat moss, and a rich mound of mulch to the hole and mixed them together. The burgundy ruffled petunias were separated and placed throughout the bed interspersed with a scattering of white petunias. I tamped down the soil and lightly watered the bed so that the flowers would be moist and stay upright. Sections of variegated liriope intermingled with some yellow coreopsis finished the picture.

I moved the large planter in the middle of the bed to the area just off the sidewalk coming away from the house near the front door. I added some lavender wave-like ruffled petunias into the urn and stepped back to be sure that everything looked exactly as I had imagined. Everything looked perfect and now it was time to sit back and watch the profusion of color brighten my yard.

Faithfully each day I headed out to the flower beds to be sure that everything was progressing and to remove any invading weeds that threatened to take up residence in the flower bed. I was maintaining control over everything and I felt like I was ready to have the “flower garden of the month” sign placed conspicuously in the front yard.

On one Thursday morning my dreams were shattered. When I wandered outdoors with my early cup of coffee I noticed that the plants had been pulled up and several of them had missing flowers. I growled and wondered exactly what had happened. Not a clue. Who would be so cruel as to heartlessly undo all the hard work and time it took to plant and organize everything? Alas, the hoof prints in the soil and the dark nuggets left behind by the deer told the sad story.

Not to be outdone, I replanted what few flowers remained and headed back to the nursery to purchase another flat of hardy petunias. For the second time I labored and planted everything again, hoping that this time nothing would happen. It looked great and I was confident that this time everything would be all right. I placed a small fence around the bed hoping to deter anything else that might attempt to ruin the picture-perfect scene. The planter near the front sidewalk seemed fine and the petunias were flowing gracefully over the side of the planter.

Early Sunday morning about two weeks later I noticed that the plants again looked rather shabby. I analyzed the scene just like any CSI agent would tackle a crime scene. Short stubs of green stuck up and the flowers were shredded on the ground. The liriope was cut off about three inches above the ground and a tell tale piece of orange string nearby told the rest of the story. Oh, drat, Bobby must have zapped them with the weed eater yesterday when he was trimming the yard. He must have been distracted or simple didn’t pay close attention to what he was doing. I checked the planter near the front door and discovered that somehow the plants had been pulled up by the root and carelessly placed on the sidewalk. Purple flower petals were scattered on the ground, once vibrant and alive but now wilted.

Well, summer would last longer than a month so once more I replanted the flower bed. My enthusiasm had started to wane but I was determined to not give up. I removed all the weeds in the area and added some more mulch to the area. I double-checked the planter near the front door and so far everything in that section of the yard looked great.

As fate would have it our electricity went out late one evening and we spent the night in the glow of candle light. The next morning as I headed towards the front yard, I cringed as I saw the tire tracks running directly over the flower bed. Whether the truck missed the driveway or its wheels missed the concrete while backing out, one thing was for certain. Only a few survivors remained after the lovely blossoms had been decapitated from their hardy stalk.

As the cool months of spring moved into summer the need for water was a necessity. With a stifling heat wave, the flowers had to be watered more frequently. It was a daily chore to check on the plants, religiously pull out any weeds, and in general keep the bed maintained. I always enjoyed the Fourth of July picnic at Matt’s house and put someone in charge of watering the garden while I was gone. The instructions were to water the flowers in the early morning hours so that the afternoon sun would not snuff out their life. But with the extreme heat of the afternoon the plants looked like curled up strings with wilted petals hanging onto the stalk. Oh dear, what could I do now? Rather than replant the bed with new selections I felt that the weather was probably too hot and voted to postpone my task until the fall when the weather was cooler.


I had often heard the phrase “bloom where you are planted”. I questioned hose words of wisdom as time and time again I was defeated in my attempts to get anything to bloom in my yard. Was there any way to bloom if time and time again things failed? The fate of the flower rested in the hands of the gardener and the care he gave to it.

Exactly how can I overcome adverse events that unpredictably come into my life? There is no way to prepare for everything that I face in life. I have to trust fully in God to get me through each crisis. Just like the flowers that I expected to grow, time and time again the blooms were destroyed. Yet there was still some type of root system. That root system kept the plant growing even when the flowers had been removed. The heat, however, caused damage that may or may not have snuffed out the life of the plant. Circumstances made life difficult and required extra care.

As I walk through each day I come face to face with problems that test my character. I may think I can handle some of the little things but the larger the crisis, the more I depend on God to walk with me and help give me the wisdom to choose between right and wrong. When my feet are firmly planted like the delicate but deep root system of a plant I can remain strong no matter what trials I face. I may get beaten down a few times with circumstances that require the tender hand of God on my shoulder. My petals may droop from exhaustion, wilt from not drinking enough water from His word; or the delicate petals may slowly fall to the ground as the problems in life overwhelm me. I need some love and tender attention and I have the perfect gardener.

God sees me as His flower and patiently tends to my care. He makes all the difference in how I mature and blossom in the light of His love. He guides me through all the trials and teaches me to trust completely in Him. He wants only the best for me. Yes, now I know that I can learn to “bloom where I am planted.”

James 1:2-4 My brethren count it all joy when you fall into various trials knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work that you may be perfect and complete lacking nothing (NKJV)

RESTLESS

Ecclesiastes 2:23---all his days his work is pain and grief; even at night his mind does not rest

Tossing from side to side while throwing the covers off her feet, Angela struggled to get to sleep. The room seemed either too cold or too hot. The slightest light from the alarm clock managed to find its way into the slim opening of her eyes. The neighbor’s dogs decided to have a barking contest just outside her window, probably due to some night creature invading their territory. The overhead ceiling fan turned to move the air but now a noticeable squeak could be heard. It seemed like everything was magnified in her mind keeping Angela from relaxing.

She had started the day off with a headache that just wouldn’t go away. Her computer crashed and tasks that needed done mounted up in the “inbox”. The telephone rang almost non stop and the copy machine jammed with paper. As the day lingered on, nothing ever seemed to get much better and when she reached for her drink on the desk, it spilled and ran all over the desk and under some important papers Angela did all she could do to keep from crying. It wasn’t a bad day, just a long one that left her tired and frustrated. Now that it was time to sleep Angela’s mind couldn’t stop replaying the events of the day. It was almost midnight before she could even start to relax. Tossing and turning she looked briefly at the clock and realized it was only 12:15 am. By 1:30 am she should be sound asleep so she would be rested tomorrow. But 1:30 came around and she was still awake.

Finally giving up on the idea of falling asleep, Angela got up and wandered towards the kitchen to have a quick snack. A glass of milk should help. Allowing the cool liquid to find its way back to her throat she relaxed and headed back towards the bedroom, confident that now she could rest and still get enough sleep so that she would feel refreshed in the morning. Adjusting her pillows and sliding back onto the silky sheets, she turned over on her right side and gave a long sigh. Sleep. Sleep. Slowly her eyelids drifted closed and her mind stopped racing.

The gray darkness covered her in peace and quiet until the telephone rang at 2:45 am. Trying to get a focus she struggled to find the phone at the side of the bed. Angela said a groggy “Hello!” into the receiver and waited. Nothing. Another few seconds and still nothing. Just as she said “Hello” again the quiet click of someone hanging up told her that the call was nothing important.. A wrong number? Come on! If you are going to call late at night at least try to get the number right or have the decency to apologize for making a mistake. Ugh!

Now awake, Angela found her mind replaying the events that she had tried so hard to push back just a couple of hours ago. Unbidden, or at least Angela didn’t think she had deliberately focused on them, the checklist of things that needed to be done filled her head. It was going to be a busy day and she had to take Eric and Daniel to soccer practice after work. Had she checked to be sure that they had finished their homework?
I think I did. No, I can’t do this! If I don’t get some sleep I will never be able to focus on anything.

The hands on the clock registered 3:45 am. Only two and a half hours until time to get up. Sleep, I have to get sleep. Why can’t I relax? Why is my mind so restless? Maybe if I get up and watch some TV my mind will calm down and I can get rested. I may not get as deep a sleep as in my bed but resting on the couch beats getting no sleep at all. Around 4:30 am Angela fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion. When the alarm went off at 5:15 Angela groaned and double-checked the time. It was another one of those short nights when sleep eluded her. No more time to sleep. It was a new day and she needed to get ready for work at the office.

The scenario above is all too common in our fast-paced society. We rush about from place to place trying to get things accomplished. At work the pile of papers on the desk seems to grow larger each day. Lunch hours are no longer a time to relax. Instead we sit at our desk eating a quick sandwich and coke or have some type of fast food brought in. Push. Push. Push. Job expectations mean more responsibility as companies downsize or when others quit and the company does not fill the position with someone else due to economic reasons The mind constantly tries to process all the information like a mini-computer but there is such as a meltdown when everything seems overwhelming.

But it doesn’t end at the office. With the mind churning through all the things planned ahead, relaxation avoids us. Is there time to take the car in for an oil change? Is this my day to carpool everyone home from soccer? Do I cook for the evening meal or do we go out to another fast-food restaurant? Is there enough clean laundry so that everyone has something to wear tomorrow? By the time 11:00 pm comes around most of us are tired and ready to go bed.

Solomon addressed several insights into the world around man and determined that “human labor costs more pain and restlessness that it is worth” (Ecclesiastes 2:23).
[http://www.soniclight.com/constable/notes/pdf/ecclesiastes.pdf].

Solomon’s wisdom applies to life in today’s world. So much of what we do seems futile. Problems continue to pop up and living in this world is no longer simple. It is complicated and tests the stamina of anyone. There is no age limit, either. We are overwhelmed with so much information and just the demands of living take its toll on us. Is it worth it? Usually it is. The difference between a committed Christian and someone who does not have Christ as a part of their life is that our burdens can be placed at the feet of the Lord and he can carry us through the difficult times. The stress level of living in today’s world is just not going to go away. How we handle the stress and whether or not we let it control us is the key issue. Rest in God and take time to enjoy the little things he has put here for our enjoyment.

TAIL FEATHERS

The young boy walked into the house carrying a small box with a few air holes in the top of the cover. He had a huge grin on his face and he could hardly wait to tell me about his “gift” and addition to our home. As a mother I knew that with boys you could expect almost anything. And with four boys it was even more interesting. I could hear the chirping of a small bird and noticed that when the tiny cardboard carrier was place on the table for a short time the box wobbled. My husband walked in just behind Kevin carrying a bird cage which verified my intuition of what was happening. We were about to be have a new pet. Tweet! Tweet!

After the cage was properly set up the parakeet was safely placed inside and instantly dubbed Troubles by our son Kevin. The bird was a cerulean blue color with a slightly darker blue on its tail feathers. Black and white stripes blended into the wing and covered the back of the bird. The whitish color of the head and neck made a striking contrast with the blue. Two little nostrils were just above the beak, which was almost a peach-colored yellow. The tiny feet quickly found their place on the perch nearest the top of the cage. Troubles looked around and checked out his new home and perched on the top wooden rung.

Watching Troubles was entertaining. Kevin soon learned to take the bird out of the cage and let him perch on his finger. He would imitate the chirp of the bird and Troubles would sing back. When Troubles felt the need to take flight he would circle through the air allowing his wings to reach a full span so he could really fly with freedom. He circled the room more than once and eventually he would land somewhere on the curtain rod or on the very top of a bookcase. It sometimes took a little maneuvering to get Troubles back into the cage but he didn’t seem to resist too much. I’m guessing it had something to do with available food and water.

Bath time! Yeah, parakeets like to stay clean and giving them water to help them groom and refresh them is important. Kevin used the traditional bird bath and placed it in the cage door area and waited. Jumping in without any hesitation, Troubles went in feet first with his wings flapping and his body ending up in the plastic “bath tub”. Water droplets disappeared into the room and loud chirps and tweets resounded through the room. Once Troubles was finished, he would climb back onto the perch and preen his feathers. Occasionally a blue tail feather would float to the floor where I could examine it closely. Amazing how gorgeous the colors were! Light blue flowing into a darker blue with an almost navy color running near the very end of the feather.

One day Kevin called me to come into the room and watch Troubles’ new trick. He would hop around in his cage and seem like just any other parakeet. Then when the timing was right, at least according to Troubles’, he would perch on the cage bar that went from one side of the cage to the other side. Without any fear, Troubles would make a 360 degree circle around the wooden rod. It was unbelievable to watch this parakeet do a complete circle not just once but over and over again. He never seemed to be afraid. It was like watching the Olympic gymnastic tournament. I found myself going in more than once to see if I could catch the acrobatic antics. We never ceased to wonder over the lack of fear when the bird did his trick and to this day I don’t think I have ever seen a parakeet duplicate this maneuver.

Years later I received a white parakeet with pale blue undertones. Powder was a joy to have although I doubted the sanity of this same young man giving me a bird. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy birds but I had one slight problem. I had four cats and a bird didn’t just seem to fit into my menagerie.

Powder was carefully guarded on the kitchen table and covered with a sheet until it was time to give me my surprise. Even before I received my birthday present the cats had gravitated towards the chirping sound. It was my daughter-in-law that saved the day by shooing the cats away until I could “open” my gift. It was a constant attempt at shooing them away since all four cats felt that lunch was waiting for them under the magic “Door #1”.

In order to keep Powder away from the cats we had to hang the cage high from the ceiling. From the hook on the ceiling the cage was placed near a window for some extra sunlight. Confident that I had placed the cage high enough, I filled the water dish and seed dish and decided to sit back and watch my feathered friend.

It wasn’t too long until the natural instinct of a cat to watch and hunt birds kicked in that we started to have problems. One orange tabby named Tigger was a real birder and he had slunk along very carefully more than once to try his luck at getting a bird. Since the cats now stayed inside I had forgotten exactly adept and resourceful Tigger could be. He took more than one jump from the floor trying to reach the bird but with no success. Not to be outdone, he put on his thinking cap and came up with a better idea. Jumping upon the table in the middle of the dining room he eyeballed the cage. He leaped up and got high enough to get the cage swinging back and forth. With the agility of a true feline, he crawled down the screen over the window making nice claw marks along the way. Coming in to determine what was causing Powder’s squawking, I quickly deciphered the problem. I moved the table further away from the window and removed one extension board from it to make it even shorter. White tail feathers fluttered down to the floor as Powder tried to calm down.

None of the other cats were quite as adventurous but I could always catch at least one cat staring off in space in the direction of Powder. There was no way around it. Only little mistake and Powder would be history. Poor bird! He just came here to chirp and sing and live his life without any fear. Of course, he had to get the home where his worst possible nightmare could really come true. Who knows exactly how fearful he was inside thinking that at any moment he just might be someone’s lunch?

I considered exactly how this short story could relate to the Bible and I found a passage I never had seen before. Jeremiah was called at a young age to prophesy against Israel who had moved away from the Lord. God’s call to repentance was through Jeremiah and this short excerpt from Jeremiah 15:11 caught my eye. “Assuredly I will set you free and care for you” (HCSB). With all the desolation in the land and all the upcoming problems with Israel, Jeremiah is encouraged by God. There’s a promise for me. God will set me free (from bondage) and care for me. I don’t have to be kept in a cage or isolated from others. My future is in His hands and I can soar on the wings of the air and know that He is there every mile of the way. What a comfort to know that He is with me always.

By the way, Kevin has continued to keep his fascination with birds. He owns a cockatiel and Striker is so happy when he comes home from work that he squawks and chirps until Kevin comes and gives him some attention.

TWITTER STOPS

An insistent sound that sounded much like a chattering instead of a song came from the birdcage inside the pet store. Two small birds flitted around in the cage and the first thing that caught my attention was the dark orange almost red beak. Near the cheekbones was a spot of bright orange color against a soft gray-brown back. Two bright white tail feathers with black markings completed the top of the bird. Underneath the chest a mixture of chestnut and white spots dotted the side and a few black and white stripes ran horizontally across the throat. One bird looked similar but without such brilliant markings. Zebra finches. The more colorful one was the male and the lighter colored one was the females. It seemed like the perfect choice for something to brighten my day during the year I was taking off from teaching.

The bird stand was like a shepherd’s hook and the cage hung near the back of the family room near the brown floral couch. The activity never ended. Constant chattering, hopping from one perch to the next perch, taking a sip of water, eating a few grains of seed and then hopping back around again. The little creatures never stopped moving except for maybe a second. I loved to watch them and it was like having my own tiny aviary except that it was only one cage. The chirping resounded throughout the house and it did exactly what I wanted, it brightened my day.

I began to settle down after the hectic pace of teaching and keeping up with four active boys who were now becoming preteens. The days seemed more relaxed and I enjoyed the time to myself. With the extra time that I saved keeping up with a ton of paperwork and no more lesson plans or conferences, I had time to work around the house. I had watched a few remodeling shows and I finally decided to be brave and handle a project all by myself.

The house seemed more and more like home since we had already lived there five years but it could use some new decorating. The family room seemed dark with the shades of gold and brown wallpaper so I decided to take on the task of stripping the wallpaper and repainting the room in a much brighter color. It sounded easy enough and with a sigh and some grim determination I started the project..

I stripped the wallpaper off the wall, which didn’t come off as easily as I expected, but I worked until I got it all off. I kept the radio playing in the background to help keep me motivated. It wouldn’t be much longer until it would be time to pick up the boys from school. I used my palm sander to test a small area of the sheetrock to see if the area would smooth out nicely. It might take some time but it could be done. I tidied up the wallpaper on the floor and put it into a garbage bag and started to sweep us some of the dust that had landed on the floor. That’s when I discovered a sight that sickened me right to the pit of my stomach. My home improvement project was dampened by the fact that both of the zebra finches had died. I was heartbroken and chastised myself more than once. All the twitter had stopped. No more singing and no more little hops.

In my enthusiasm for taking on a project I had neglected to pay attention to one little detail. The bird cage with the cheerful zebra finches should have been moved to a safer area. I forgot to think about the tiny nostrils and the delicate respiratory system that couldn’t handle the dust and debris from all the work that had consumed me. Why, oh why, did I forget that one important detail?

Throughout life I have always had to keep track of many details and without taking notes on all that needed to be accomplished, I would never finished half of what I did. It was especially important when I was teaching full time and helping my four sons with schoolwork or running a shuttle bus from one activity to the next. You see, I just couldn’t keep up with all the tiny things that are so important. If I didn’t write it down it probably wasn’t finished or was neglected. To this day I have to do the same thing.

Isn’t it great to know that God is always paying attention to the details in our life? I don’t have to remember every little thing from His Word because He will teach me on a day to day basis. He is the perfect instructor. He sees the larger picture of what life is all about and the way that my life will affect others along the pathway. In Nahum 1:7 the words there are such an uplifting promise for each Christian. “The Lord is good, a refuge in the times of trouble. He cares for those who trust in Him” (NIV).

I may have forgotten to take care of the tiny birds properly and I paid a dear price for my neglect but God cares for me and has my best interests at heart. No matter how hard things become He watches over me, even when I go astray and think that I can handle things on my own. My God, always watching and taking care of me and never forgetting even one detail. I can learn so much from Him. If only I had taken the time to slow down and think through everything the ending would have had a better outcome.

Father, forgive me for not always recognizing your perfect care for me. And “Thank You” for being there just when I need you most.

God's Lesson Plan

After a move to Virginia, I decided to work as a substitute teacher. For a year or so I taught science, history, band, English, French art and even Industrial Technology. The array of courses varied so much that it was rather interesting to see what course I would be teaching next. But there was always the challenge of authority that went along with a substitute teacher. A day of fun! That’s what the students always thought. Not a day for working and keeping up with lesson plans. No, the day that the substitute walked through the door, everyone felt it was a justifiable reason for NOT doing the lessons. Students talked, moved around their own chairs and made their own seating arrangement.
It became hard to discipline in some classes and at the middle school grade level this can be challenging. I liked what I did but I felt I needed a change of pace.

I made the decision to be more careful of how I planned my days as a substitute teacher. I preferred having a position that kept me in the same classroom longer than one or two days. I was willing to take a long term assignment when a teacher had to take a leave of absence but long term assignments didn’t always come up. I had no idea where I would find a place to teach that was slower paced, but God opened a door for me to work in the special education department. There was always a problem getting someone to work with the handicapped and although I had no experience I agreed to accept a few substitute assignments.

Having four gifted and talented boys of my own and working with advanced students in school was something that I always found enjoyable. It motivated me to study to keep ahead of the class and they were usually able to grasp new concepts rather quickly. That was my niche. My comfort zone. Start the day off running to keep up with everyone and manage a brisk pace throughout the day as the classes changed and moved from room to room.

The relaxed pace in the lower wing of the school with the handicapped and special students seemed to be a fresh change from the fast pace of the other “regular” students.
And for the first few days I did enjoy the change of pace. But then my overactive personality tried to take over and move the pace just a little faster. It seemed like it took forever to get any one task finished. Wait, this is special education and the students can’t grasp concepts any faster. Many times the skills have to be taught over and over until they are learned. Even then, some days the learning has to go back to “square one” and re-teaching the idea must be done.

In the class where I did my work, the overall goal is to be sure that everyone has the basic skills to work at routine jobs where tables were cleaned, change was counted, and extending a greeting to each customer was expected. Over and over and over again the tasks were repeated. Just to listen to someone count to fifty without making a mistake was “torture”. Focusing on a task such as folding a napkin and putting a fork, spoon and knife by the table setting was a difficult task for these students. Keeping everyone quiet and organized throughout the school day meant you could never take your eyes off any of the students. Demanding and often stressful in a different way, special education had a new admirer. All of those things that I had taken for granted as my own children grew up certainly was appreciated more now.

God has given some of His children a special place in this world and adjusting to the world takes much longer. Parents often are overworked as they try to work with learning disabilities, handicaps, medical problems, and children who need extra time, care, and attention. But those special students are the source of many blessings. The joy on their face when they complete a task is precious. Completing a goal and being able to have an outing brought cheers of excitement throughout the classroom. Trips to a horse academy, having a pizza party, or just taking a lunch outside and sitting on a picnic table all took on a new meaning and appreciation. Simple pleasures made the students see the world around them outside the four walls of a classroom . As they worked they discovered that they could fit into society just as well as other people. They just had to work a little harder but they had a valuable place in our world and were significant, not only in society’s eyes but in the eyes of God himself.

God taught me a valuable lesson during those years that I worked as a substitute teacher. I needed His help each day that I went to school and entered the classroom. I worked hard to teach others but God was busy teaching me good judgment and knowledge (Psalm 119:66a) through an experience that I never expected. He taught me while I taught the students but the students were the best teachers of all. They opened me eyes to the joy of the simplest part of life and helped me to slow down and listen, really listen. And while I listened to them, I heard God’s voice in a new and special way.

Changing My Focus

The past few months have been busy and at times it has seemed like a whirlwind has gone through the house leaving a trail of debris in the way. Writing was the furthest thing from my mind. I guess I took a break because I felt I needed one. I kept up with singing at church with various choirs so that music could uplift my inner spirit. Working to "cut" two CD's with Terry was fun and I learned a lot about a recording studio. Jason & Holly's wedding was the highlight of the month of May. Busy but not exactly relaxed.

Back in the inner recesses of my mind was the desire to write but I just had to re-organize everything. After the wedding seemed like a perfect turning point for me and as I began to put my thoughts into words, I found that the ideas were still there. They were just hidden beneath all the activity. Now it's time to focus on letting my mind wander and search for the stories that are just below the surface. Stories that need to be told or that are emerging from my mind. Stories that will find their way to this page again.