What time is it in YOUR life?

I am flying to Tucson with a stop in Houston. I love flying.  My short legs fit, as long as I can prop them on my carry-on so they don’t dangle, I’m a happy camper.  I can even stand up under the overhead compartment in most planes.  Weird but true factoids for your pleasure.

On the plane again.... I can't wait to get on the plane again....

Yep, I write on the plane. 

So what is the plan? I want to write. I want to connect with some new people. I want to hear from God.

And guess what? He’s here!

I limited myself to three books for these next ten days, a traveling dilemma for a reader. And don’t give me the Kindle lecture…. I still like real books ‘cause I can write in them.  I’m traveling with a carry-on only (and the brilliant backup plan that in the spring, my mother can carry any excess junk I acquire in Arizona back to South Dakota in her car!)

My books?

Eugene Peterson’s Run with the Horses

            It’s my dig-into book right now. I love Jeremiah and I was reminded that he was an advisor to King Josiah- turned out to be a fun coincidence as I await the arrival of my first grandson, Josiah Robert Haack. J

            "If you have raced with men on foot, and they have wearied you, how will you compete with horses?" Jeremiah 12:5

“We all long to live life at its best--to fuse freedom and spontaneity with purpose and meaning. Why then do we often find our lives so humdrum, so unadventuresome, so routine? Or else so frantic, so full of activity, but still devoid of fulfillment? How do we learn to risk, to trust, to pursue wholeness and excellence--to run with the horses in the jungle of life?”

http://www.ivpress.com/cgi-ivpress/book.pl/code=905

I grabbed, quite random and trusting God will reveal why- Ken Gire’s Intense Moments with the Savior, Learning to Feel.  I love his books – he’s a story teller who expects you to respond and also the provides structure for that response. This is stories of Christ’s suffering- my Lenten reading.

http://www.amazon.com/Intense-Moments-Savior-Learning-Feel/dp/0310549809

And  finally I brought Luci Shaw’s Life Path. http://www.lucishaw.com/ I was at an artists’ retreat at Laity Lodge in Texas and she was a co-leader. She’s a wonderful poet and Christian contemplative. I’ve enjoyed her poetry and thought I’d toss in her book on Personal and Spiritual Growth through Journal Writing.   I don’t have a fresh journal for this trip so I’ll grab a cool Arizona journal and a new pen and really begin. Tomorrow.

But I thought I’d scan her ideas, check out the book. Keep it surface. After all, I’m on a plane.

Remember the part about God coming along with me? He had me read her very first introductory chapter with some benign suggestions for starting a journal.

“1. Draw the face of a clock- leave off the hands but add the numbers.

2  As you look at the clock you have drawn, ask-

‘What time is it in my life right now?”

Let the question sink in until you feel the right time has suggested itself to you ….

Draw two hands… to represent the time.”

Contemplate. Think. Be still- even in an airplane there is opportunity for distraction. But this is the emptiest plane I have been on in years.  So I think.

“3. Write one or two descriptive sentences that would address the question-

‘Where am in my life right now?’

Such as: ‘I feel as if in my life is standing still’;

 ’I’m in a lonely, lost time’;

‘This is a time of new beginnings.”

Meditate.  Be still and wait.  What are the images that come to my mind?

I think in pictures- what’s the picture God is bringing to my mind? It's this.

It’s 6am on my life clock.  Still too early to jump up and rush into the day but the sun is peeking into the window of my cozy bedroom. It’s not that "middle of the night, wake up in the dark in a panic" moment.  No, in my picture a new day is emerging with promise of warmth and sunshine.  I’m just not quite ready for it to begin.

This feels like a small, indulgent occasion to be comfortable and snug in a soft cocoon. That quiet morning time to lay still and try and capture those elusive dream images that flit in and out like tantalizing vapors. It’s that lucid moment to contemplate the tasks ahead, to savor the anticipation of this new day.

Comfortable.

Anticipation.

Waiting.

Content.

Shouldn’t I be DOING something?

No, this is the sacred time to lie quietly and bless the coming day. To murmur thank you, to recount blessings and form psalms of thanksgiving, to listen drowsily for the small Voice.

The day will come, the job He has for me is waiting but right now, it’s only 6 am and I have a few more minutes to prepare myself for the day ahead.

I’m not sure what that image means.  Clearly a new season, a new day is dawning in my life – I’m on my way to a real life writer’s retreat after all.  I do love early mornings; this is a very peaceful image to me, a kiss from a loving Father who is gifting me with a new day, not handing me a task list.  From my images, it’s clear I’m not quite ready to jump into the new day but honestly, 6 am is pretty close to “the day’s a wasting” voice of my early-bird Dad.

 Just like He gave me the images, I trust He’ll unwrap the meaning for me.

So I’m getting ready. I’m listening. I’m capturing some dream images. It’s 6am in my inner world.

What time is it in your life?  Can you sit quietly and think prayerfully about the questions Luci raised? 

There is such wonder at the thought that God wants to reveal more of you to you. He already knows every hair on our heads. He knows which image will speak to me, which will speak to you.  So… be still, think, listen. Maybe make a clock...

So, what time is it in your life? 

Lessons on the beach

Finally we've gone to the beach. Abby lives about eleven miles from the Atlantic Ocean. Sounds close but it takes 25 minutes because you really do go the exact speed limit on a military base. Really.  Cruise control is our friend.

So, while we're waited for the paint project to dry we grabbed the puppy and off we sped to the beach- ha!

Lots of trapped water in shallow ponds- warm summer fun,  interesting winter photos

I'm not a big beach person- you might guess from my mountain rants.

May or June 1986
Family lore says she was less than a month old.

But my baby girl loves the beach- her daddy loved water and she is his little fish.
She can't wait to take her little man to the pool this summer.

Abby and Samson

So we walked on the beach. Samson, the Shiba Inu wonder dog, chased  Styrofoam squares and dashed in and out of the waves close to the beach. He's an interesting little dog but has a mind of his own so he stayed on his leash and almost yanked Abby off her feet when he saw ANOTHER piece of white to chase,"Run with me. This is fun, Mom!"
 It was chilly- the temp was supposed to be 55 but the wind off the dunes stung our bare calves and  reminded us it was February.



Then I saw a piece of green sea glass- fine, it was probably a Heineken beer bottle but it's now a pretty piece of sea glass.  


And suddenly there were lots of translucent, smooth, round .... stones? glass?  Who knows what they are and I don't care- I  just love the way they feel in my hand. I want to carry them around in my pocket. I want to write words on them and stack them on my desk.   I want to rub oil on them to keep them shiny. 
I love my .... cool beach things.

Weird thing?

Then this glob showed up. What is that ugly thing? I pick it up and it's hard, heavy in my hand.

Ahhh.....

Turning my beach find over, I discover it's... a sand dollar?  Yep, a fragile, break in your hands, sand dollar. I've never seen one encrusted like this. Or this hard and heavy, this durable.  Not easily broken but no longer a delicate beauty either.

There's a lesson in this. 

This month I've been around all the pretty, young wives I remember from my years on military bases.  I've seen more cute little kids and thought more about babies than in the past ten years.  Fresh, young, just starting out... maybe a bit fragile.  Certainly delicate. 

Age changes the physical. The human body thickens and sags- sigh. I remember the first time someone said, "She's short - like you but she's ... tiny." My throat tightened and I wanted to stamp and yell, "I used to be tiny!"   My waist isn't what it was ... quite a few years ago. I have bumps and lumps. My skin is no longer taut or dewy. I'm no longer delicate. 

And I am no longer fragile. 

Like the sand dollar with its visible attachments from years in the sea, I have attachments from years in this life, invisible attachments.  I've had seasons of fighting depression that has attached to me a greater understanding of myself and revealed a strength I didn't know I had. I now have a stronger backbone - built partly from making myself show up and do what had to be done in some tough times. I trust more in my own intuition - a lesson learned from ignoring that small voice.  Some of my wrinkles were earned crying for a wounded child, some were etched on my face by my own grief.  Either way, life has hardened me  just like the sea hardened the sand dollar.

There is beauty in both - in the sand dollar and in me.  Unlike the enrusted sand dollar, I'm not hard on the outside.   I'm not hard, inflexible or bitter on the inside but, like the sand dollar, I'm not fragile anymore either.   I'm... durable- 

Able to withstand wear, pressure, or damage; hard-wearing. (of a person) Having endurance.

Synonyms:

lasting - enduring - permanent - abiding - solid - stable

I like that. 

I can handle a few wrinkles just like the sand dollar can handle a few sea shells stuck to its side. 

The sand dollar will endure and abide.  So will I.  

                       Stable and not broken by the rough waves.

                                                       lessons from the sea. 

“Indeed, I can say with complete truthfulness that everything I have learned in my seventy-five years in this world, everything that has truly enhanced and enlightened my existence, has been through affliction and not through happiness, whether pursued or attained. In other words, if it ever were to be possible to eliminate affliction from our earthly existence…the result would not be to make life delectable, but to make it too banal or trivial to be endurable. This of course is what the cross signifies, and it is the cross more than anything else, that has called me inexorably to Christ.”
Malcolm Muggeridge, A Twentieth Century Testimony.

Killing time on the internet

My digital SLR camera is broken and I keep forgetting to call my insurance to see if it's actually insured. I bought a pocket camera and hated it. My iPhone is my best camera right now and it actually takes decent photos- I just don't think of it as a camera!

So all the photos we're taking are on Abby's camera and her computer- she needs to share. :) Which makes my blog... pictureless. sigh. Such sadness. So instead of writing pithy comments on photos, I'm cruising the internet with my daughter. Baby land rules.

It's amazing to see all the crapola that is foisted off on these unsuspecting young moms. Diaper wipe warmers, these creepy plastic hands to "cradle" your baby when you're not around.

Zaky Infant Pillow Regular price: $44.95

$60 for a couple yards of fabric to wrap around you and the baby, cute little baby beanie caps that totally makes your baby's head look like... well, like the breast he's nursing from.  

Ok- some of those are just ridiculous but honestly, I had no idea how much stuff is out there, most with a few rave reviews from moms who declare this is the "best thing I've ever used for my baby".  Maybe YOUR baby boy will need a tee-PEE cover during diaper changes or YOUR little girl would look so much better with fake bangs attached to her headband.  Hopefully you won't have need for alcohol testing strips for your breast milk but like a reviewer said, "You can totally have a life while you're breastfeeding."  Scary. Or is that just me?

So we've wandered Babies R Us and hit the local cloth diaper store but the biggest source of "Oh my- do I need THAT?" has been the internet. We  look up all the options on diapers. We look at nursing clothing- THAT looks useful. We read blogs of clever funny mothers. We Pinintest all the cute ideas we find but idea time is about over- the crib is assembled and skirted ( made by my clever daughter), the Ikea rocker waits in the corner, the nursery color has been selected! Just waiting for the man to come back and paint- he wants to do something for the nursery; Abby has loose ligaments even in her wrists and I... well, I refuse to paint.  There are limits to the fun and games. 

But it is fun because I never did this much nursery stuff and none with my mom. She lived in Colorado and I delivered five weeks early in North Carolina (right down the road from Abby's current house but in the OLD hospital, not the NEW).  Then the second baby boy came while Bill was deployed and I had medical complications and surgery two weeks after Drew's birth- really didn't care about a nursery at that point. Sorry, Drew.  My sweet bundle of pink was born six months before we moved out to Japan and baby #4 arrived six weeks after we returned from Japan and set up house in really small temporary quarters. 

So - God bless my military brat/military wife daughter who is decorating quarters and painting walls. She's frugal and painting a second hand dresser- thank you, Jesus, that refinishing furniture is no longer in vogue.  

Stand back and let a pro handle the power tools.

31 weeks, 1 day.... and counting
The squares on the wall are paint samples.

The modern crib no longer is full of puffy bumpers and matching fluffy comforters so moms don't go nuts making them and babies don't suffocate. Speaking of equipment, she's had some incredibly generous offers of infant car seats, bouncers, swingers, rocker thingers, etc. 

And in the long run- that's what she needs. Not the stuff but the generosity of other women. Young moms who can offer advice, support and gently used equipment.  Older moms who offer even better advice and show her examples of godly women mothering well.  And old mamas like me- we're the ones who can look back at the fun and games, the hard times and the joys and offer - perspective. 

Enjoy the fun, make up your own games 

and live like you're practicing for heaven. 

As for the rest of us, find a younger mom and encourage her. Tell your story- warts and all. Be the wise woman you wish you had when you were just starting out on this amazing road of motherhood. 

The Fork in the Road

My daughter is having a baby. That will make her a mother.


That will make me a grandmother. 


Wow- grandmothers are .... old and wise and in my family, a bit grumpy. Am I ready? Is she ready? 


What prepares us for the ground shift of parenthood- that fork in the road that will always mark before children and after children? The road gets steeper as you approach an baby's birth. The birth is its own marathon of pushing a huge bowling ball up a steep muddy hill and then pushing that same bowling ball out into the world. But in the end, it's more than a great nursery or a amazing birth experience.  I love Dale Hansen Bourke and this is a quote from her leadership blog.

Motherhood and leadership are not about the payoff. They are about investment in others, careful management of problems, giving up oneself to the point that self is not noticed.

Good mothers and good leaders usually live way over their heads in conditions that require more prayer than theory, more clinging to faith than controlling destiny. Yes, there are mothers and good leaders who pull it all off without God, but I can't imagine how.

http://www.christianitytoday.com/workplace/articles/leadership/ofleadershipmotherhood.html

At first, I honestly wasn't so thrilled with the whole idea of grandchildren I love the idea of my competent daughter becoming a mother and clearly I'm old enough. My mother has been ready for several years now,"I'm the only one without great-grandchildren." Obvious bragging rights are missing there. 

  

But the whole "you will throw yourself under a train for your grandchild" aspect didn't feel real.  It took me time to bond with my own babies. I still don't really care for other people's kids ( true confession time) but as I think about my genuine relationships with young adults who aren't my kids, I understand this process a little better. 

I coached the birth of my best friend's son and watched him and his siblings grow, make mistakes, grow some more, and emerge as really terrific young adults. Over the years, I've met other children and participated in some of their spiritual formation and I treasure that gift. With the benefit of looking back at bare bottom babies who grow into adults or watching teens who seemed insufferable but make it just fine, I get it. 

Motherhood, in all its forms, is an investment in the future of our children- biological or not.  One of my own children's "mothers" is a favorite aunt who has no biological children of her own. Her joyful involvement with her various neices and nephews is such a blessing to them.  She has given up herself in ways that aren't applauded in our world system but her family sees and heaven smiles.

I was such a serious mother and I fear I'll be a serious grandmother but the lovely benefit of living so many seasons on this planet is the priviledge of looking back on those years. I was so concerned about making mistakes with my kids- I see now that despite our best intentions, mistakes are still made. God will need to do His redemptive work in ALL His children- we don't want to be the major source of baggage in our kids' lives but I didn't need to fear I would be the worst thing in their lives either. I understand now that no matter how hard we try not to make mistakes, we do live in a world marred by sin. The good news is that God is always at work in that world and we aren't alone in the journey.  

My prayer now is one of gratitude and expectation; I'm grateful that at some point we can each recognize the redemptive journey we are all on.  In time, the labels of adult and young, parent and child can be transformed into fellow sojourners. I can expect good things from God.

So while I'm not quite to the "let me bore you with my grandchildren's amazing specialness" stage, I'm getting closer to throwing myself under the train to protect them.  But the protection I long to provide would be the investment of steadfast prayer, godly encouragement for their families and more fun than their parents had with me!  

This grandmother knows that God is big, He loves us more than we understand, His heart towards us is good.  He rejoices over us!

The LORD your God in the midst of you is mighty;  he will save,  he will rejoice over you with joy;  he will quiet you with his love,  he will rejoice over you with singing.  Zepahiah 3:17

My daughter, like most young expectant mothers, is still unaware of all the burdens and joys of pending motherhood.  I'm aware of the holy weight of the generations. And in this too, God is on His Throne and smiling down at us and the new life coming into the world He created, the world He is redeeming. And He is rejoicing over us with singing.

It's all good. I wish I had understood that thirty years ago...

Fun at Fort Benning or Buzzing across Alabama, Georgia and the Carolinas

Wow- time really got away from me. I arrived at Abby's after a long day across both Georgia and South Carolina.  Then we left North Carolina  and here we are in Northern Virginia.  Tomorrow is the baby shower and Monday we return to Abby's for a couple of weeks of playing in the baby room. And I will get back to some serious writing!

Southern Alabama.
Need I say more.

Tuskegee, Alabama was a bit of culture shock. Before I got there, I had stopped by Montgomery and added to my personal “state capitals I have seen” list. Great day to be in a capital city- Sunday afternoon and no one to hassle or be hassled by my camper.   And the capital is beautiful, the day was sunny and warm.  I stopped to take a picture by the actual church where Martin Luther King, Jr. was pastor- the very place they began the civil rights march to Selma.  Earlier this week I had stood on the beach in Biloxi where whites and blacks had linked arms, marched into the water and de-segregated a Gulf Shore beach.  In Montgomery, another woman was taking photos and I told her how the place just gave me chills- so much recent history happened right there. 

In this hallowed "ground zero" of civil rights , I was more conscious of how I take for granted a friendly street conversation with a stranger who happened to be a black woman. How my relationship with a dear friend has nothing to do with race.  How much attitudes have changed. Etc. Perhaps I was a bit smug.  

So it surprised me to drive through the beautiful college town of Tuskegee and be so aware I was the minority.  The only Caucasian, as far as I could tell. So is this what it's like to be a minority?  And I didn’t feel like anyone paid any attention to me, I was just completely solo in my color.  When will we, or at least when will I be truly color-blind? 

Tuskegee University
Beautiful campus- turns out, I missed the actual town.
I came in a back way and went out another back road- the perils of traveling
without a GPS.

Lots to think about as I drove across the deep south. And so many sites to photograph.

A frustration of this trip is all the photo opportunities that I miss. (Another frustration is my perpetual lack of wifi)  The powers-that-be discourage travelers from stopping their vehicles on top of bridges but some of the best views are from bridges.  It did not have good timing for Bridge City, Texas to look romantic- you need better light to make the oil industry an attractive photo op.  But Baton Rouge twinkled in the early evening light,  there was beautiful afternoon light on white barns and country churches from Tuskegee  to Columbus, Georgia.  Even that green slime on the Sabine River would have made a great photo. 

Clearly I need more time to do this trip justice.  I'm racing from one night to another.

But some days it’s worth it. After driving all day Sunday, as night fell I finally found the lovely family camp at the huge and sprawling Fort Benning Army Post in Columbus, Georgia.   And arrived just in time for a rowdy Super Bowl party.

Fort Benning Family Camp
Great place to ride a bike!

Following a friendly staffer in her pickup truck, I hooked Bonnie up to the electricity and returned to the camp Lodge for a super bowl party and LOTS of food.  That night, I ran my heat and dried out my damp bedding. In the morning, I rode my wonderful new bike all around the camp and got off to a late start.  But I had a hot shower, a cup of coffee and some new friends, one showed me how to flush my camper toilet!


It's the small victories we need to celebrate.

Here's my route starting at Fort Benning and ending at Camp Lejuene, NC.
It should have started at Kessler Air Force Base in Biloxi, Mississippi.
A military base is clearly my comfort zone.

http://g.co/maps/bs47n
FYI

Hurrah!
One state closer.... and yes, it's night time.
LONG day

I wasn't tired so I just kept driving. The roads were quiet. Augusta, GA was lovely in the dark and looked like a place worth exploring on another visit. But I soldiered on and drove and drove. Hmm.... where should I stop?  I had decided on a rest station just over the North Carolina border but suddenly I was just TIRED.

So I pulled into a Pilot Truck stop and there on the grass behing the gas pumps were four other RVs. Perfect!  I pulled in between a camper trailer and another truck camper.  Locked the doors and crashed.



And I found out in the morning that the rest stop in North Carolina I planned on ... is closed!  God gave me the sleepies and another safe truck stop. I'm grateful
                                                  ... and ready to get off the interstate!

Back "home" in Virginia

Even the welcome center looks like a shop-
prepared me for Saturday at Potomac Mills mall.

At one time themall was the  #1 tourist destination in Virginia...
the same state that is home to Williamsburg, Jamestown, Yorktown,
Mt. Vernon, Monticello..... 

So I will bring this to a close and find my warm, DRY bed.  The wind is howling but I'm snug in my girlfriend's home. Abby has talked to Steve via Skype.  Our hosts are winding down their night. All is calm, all is bright- all is right with the world.  

Across the South- Louisiana and Mississippi

Leaving Houston- Texas, what happened to the sun? 

I left Houston in a light spritz of rain after a downpour early in the morning.

I drove east to Beaumont, Texas in a steady drizzle that became a steady shower.

Crossing the rain-swollen Sabine River, I was in soaked Louisiana.

Welcome to Lousisana

Welcome to Louisana rest stop....

Welcome to Louisiana rain.....

Continuing East, I crossed the Pearl River into Mississippi.  Wet but not pouring.

How many times can you say- “It rained.”  Too many times for me.

Gotta say it- Mississippi says class in their Welcome  Center!

It's all in the details. Nice touch.

And closed.

Turns out my do-it-myself job of replacing my cracked skylight was… well, DIY and incomplete. I knew I needed to replace the caulking I  removed but it got cold in SD. I forgot. Dumb..

So in all that water falling from the sky, I had a leak. Or my camper skylight had one.  The good news - it was contained in a small area. The bad news? The small area was in the middle of my bed.

The best new? I’m not in a tent.

So I spent a damp and chilly night at Kessler Air Force Base in their very pleasant RV park.

 

The live oaks of the south.

  

  And I learned I do not know how to flush my camper toilet, my refrigerator will only run on LP gas, not electricity and Biloxi, Mississippi had much worse things to deal with than the idiosyncrasies or the luxuries of a camper.

I drove along the beach area- the new casinos were obvious and the tragic gaps between the stately old trees just as obvious.  I talked to some friendly folk in a truck stop and they said Katrina demolished a row of houses that had defied hurricanes for over a hundred years.  The devastation was heartrending, even years later.

Historic Beauvoir - Home of Jefferson Davis
and
a icon of the South

Restored and beautiful again.

The Biloxi lighthouse and new visitor center

Another lighthouse holds it's own on the Biloxi coast.

Here comes the sun!

Messing around with effects

Texas Icons

I'm slowly making myself through the heart of Texas. My new camera drives me nuts, my iPhone camera stopped working - good thing, I'd still be driving and stopping every few minutes to take another picture.

I drove from Waco to Temple- just for lunch.... I left 24 hours later! I had a great visit with dear friends, Al and Carol Joersz.  We enjoyed Naples, Italy together and have remained heart-full friends. Thank you Carol for a fun evening with a silly chocolate fountain; thank you, Al, for all the help with the camper and for washing my rig. You are both such blessings to me. 

Driving into danger.... just looks beautiful right now!

 Soon after this, the sky opened up and it poured! Hard. Lots of water- good for drought stricken Texas.

This just says.... Texas

This is the arena next to the church is....
I thought this was the church!

Ignore the blur- it isn't a tornado forming-
it's a poorly "photoshopped" electric pole!

I drove the back country roads from Temple to Houston. Talk about a culture shock. Follwing are some pictures showing the shopping along the way..... once I got to suburban Houston, things changed a bit.  By that time, I was driving through driving rain in the dark. 

Welcome to Houston- it was like driving down the middle of a high end shopping center.... 

But back to some Texas icons- 

Lone Star State

Where's the horse that lost their shoe?

Texas- country class without trying too hard

FYI for all you shopppers

I want one of these!

Or these....

Ok- time to get on the road. I have a list of all the Texas pictures I couldn't get-

These were in some front yards






And suddenly, these were the front yards... sigh. Back to "Texas"

On to... not sure. East!