Sally's Thoughts

Sally is a family-friend whose life changed drastically last year when she was diagnosed with a cavernous angiomia (a bleeding malformation of blood vessels in her brain.) This busy wife and mother was suddenly disabled by the effects of the bleeding and even more by the surgery which was required to remove it.

Though it is sometimes hard for me to read her Caring Bridge site since her challenges resonate so deeply with those of Elsa and me and our family, it is also encouraging and helps us feel less "alone." Sally gave me permission to share her writings here.

May 11, 2016. [My daughter] often tells me, "Mom if you say you are doing just fine people won't know how very difficult it really is for you, for us."  

It really is a fine line however.  On one hand I want to be honest and tell you the struggles and yet I do not want to launch into grumbling and ungratefulness. 

I have so much to be thankful for.  Many people do not have the extent of recovery that I have enjoyed.  At other times it is easy to become discouraged by the loss of abilities.  

There has been more than one morning, as I have awakened from sleep and suddenly realized that my face still feels awful and I have another day to slog through therapy, that I have greeted the day with tears.  It is not I am not thankful for life or that life is not good.  Rather it is just is so hard to preserve.

[And looking back 8 months...]

September 3, 2015  There have been moments this week that I have found it hard to keep on keeping on.  I know my progress is good and that I have so much to be grateful but I find myself anxious to be better.  It is hard to live in the moment isn't it? I strive and desire more.  

And then there is the matter of trust that also presents itself as a challenge. Not being able to see the complete picture and simply viewing it from my stand point there are always the wonderings of "why" and how will this all turn out. And yet when I step into that thought pattern I find little peace and joy.  Returning to trust in the midst of those ponderings, I find much more contentment and actual enjoyment...

This week I have spent a bit of time reading and studying Psalm 31. The first verse "In thee O Lord, do I put my trust: let me never be ashamed: deliver me in thy righteousness." 

Since trust has been on my mind I looked up trust in the Webster 1828 dictionary.  I loved the definition and have found it to help focus my thoughts the last couple of days.  Let me share it with you.  

"Confidence - a reliance or resting of the mind on the integrity, veracity, justice, friendship or the other sound principle of another person."  The definition then quoted this verse: "He that putteth his trust in the Lord shall be safe."  

I have thought much about that resting of the mind, knowing that I truly can have confidence that God is working all for his good.  Even the interruptions of the day as well as brain surgery and recovery.

That reminds me [Hannah] of Frances Havergal's hymn, Like a River Glorious. Here is a verse:

Every joy or trial falleth from above,
Traced upon our dial by the Sun of Love;
We may trust Him fully, all for us to do;
They who trust Him wholly find Him wholly true.

Refrain:
Stayed upon Jehovah, hearts are fully blest
Finding, as He promised, perfect peace and rest.

The Storm's Aftermath

Aftermath.

That word suddenly looked funny when I typed it.  What does "math" have to do with "consequences, effects, results, wake..."?

Anyway, the storm that was filling the horizon as I picked my first bouquet of the year did indeed arrive. And it blew in "with a bang." Or a crash. Or a rapid, crackling sound that I mistook a few seconds for the rattle of hail... until I saw the tree falling.

The stately basswood in our front lawn had split off into two trunks well above my head. Years ago I would climb up to perch among the sturdy limbs, and it has remained a favorite staging ground for birds making forays on our feeders while keeping a wary eye out for cats. We could even spot the tiny hummingbirds resting on a convenient dead twig. But years of storms, bugs, and woodpeckers were taking their toll. It didn't show to a casual observer on the ground, but half of the tree had grown weak and rotten. 

And when the storm winds came, the tree showed its true colors. 

Regi looking at the blocked driveway and wondering "Where did this come from?!"

Sadly, half of the tree fell on our rose bed...

...and took out the lamp post on its way down.

This makes me think... life is full of storms. I can be going along "just fine" and think I'm doing pretty well. But when the gusts hit, what do I show? 

A rotten core that collapses and leaves damage in its wake? Or a strength built up through using the sunshine God sends and holding on tightly with roots sunk deep into His truth when the storms toss me about?

Hmm.... I don't like the answer to that question some days.

I think I need to start singing again a song we taught to our Bright Lights girls. The words go something like this:

I saw a tree by the riverside one day as I walked along. 

Straight as an arrow and pointing to the sky; growing tall and strong. 

“How do you grow so strong and tall?” I said to the riverside tree. 

This is the song that my tree friend sang to me. 

I’ve got roots growing down to the water, 

I’ve got leaves growing up to the sunshine, 

and the fruit that I bear is a sign of life in me. 

I am shade from the hot summer sundown. 

I am nest for the birds of the heaven. 

I’m becoming what the Lord of trees has meant me to be: 

A strong young tree.

I saw a tree in the city streets, where buildings blocked the sun. 

Green and lovely, I could see it gave joy to everyone. 

“How do you grow in the city streets?” I said to the downtown tree. 

This is the song that my tree friend sang to me:

 I’ve got roots growing down to the water, 

I’ve got leaves growing up to the sunshine, 

and the fruit I bear is a sign of the life in me. 

I am shade from the hot summer sundown. 

I am nest for the birds of the heaven. 

I’m becoming what the Lord of trees has meant me to be: 

A strong young tree.

(The Tree Song by Ken Medema)

And then there's Psalm 1: 

"Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked,

nor stands in the way of sinners,

nor sits in the seat of scoffers;

but his delight is in the law of the LORD,

and on his law he meditates day and night.

He is like a tree planted by streams of water

that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither.

In all that he does, he prospers..." (ESV)

The Yellow Room

When my uncles added onto the lake cottage a while back, they left the cute old one-story, white-sided building inside.

They even worked around the little old kitchen to leave the built-in cupboards when they added indoor plumbing. (No more getting water out the back door, heating it on the stove, brushing your teeth with a cup and a bush to spit in, and running to the outhouse with a flashlight - as in my childhood. Unless you come before the water is turned on in the spring. Then the adventure continues!)

My favorite part of the addition is the loft - built above the old living room and two tiny bedrooms.

Speaking of which, I took a few photos in one of the bedrooms this spring.  The "yellow room," as it has always been called - with its buttery yellow walls, curtains, and bedspread.

           

This was always Grandpa and Grandma's room when they were staying overnight, while the "pink room" was open to anyone.

In the morning you might catch sight of Grandma scurrying to the outhouse with a mysterious paper bag containing the chamber pot which is still tucked under these bed springs.

Even once a bathroom was added on to the kitchen, the chamber pot was more handy at night.

And while the addition brought the update of ceiling lights run by light-switches, I'm so glad the old pull-chain fixtures are still above the beds.

Both bedrooms just got new mattresses, so I had to snap a photo of this vintage set first. You can just imagine the nostalgic "creak" of those old coils.

Sorry the photos are rather dim. I only had my phone.

The Distant Shores

"The LORD reigns, let the earth be glad; let the distant shores rejoice."
Psalm 97:1

"Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad;

let the sea resound, and all that is in it"
Psalm 96:11

Photos taken on an afternoon with handwork at the lake

Second Garden Bouquet - 2016

A lone, pink Simplicity rose with frolicking colors and textures of perennials and plants that had re-seeded in our garden

And our first tea-rose of the year - from my favorite rose bush!

First Garden Bouquet - 2016

A storm was rolling in with the potential of strong winds and hail. So I stuck flowerpots under tables and chairs as well as into the porch and garage.

Pots of succulents and flowers hiding under the deck table

Then my steps followed my gaze to the garden. There is something about pre-storm lighting on the prairie that makes grass and flowers glow so richly. And the deep blue clouds thundering as they roll in add beauty and drama to the scene. Time slows down as we wait and watch and wonder. 

It had been a while since I had spared enough steps and energy from my daily routines to walk as far as the garden. Hence, many flowers surprised me with their vibrant blooms. A few just "jumped" into my hands and are still brightening our bathroom counter nearly a week later.

Knit-in-Public Day

That's today -- June 18th. Though I won't be "in public" today, we recently knit (and crocheted) in public. At the lake! It was such a nice quiet day there that the only public who could have seen us and been inspired in their handwork endeavors were the few people who cruised by on their pontoons.

Mom and Elsa sitting on the lawn by the lake with their handwork

The shawl in my lap in the foreground is finished by now. Maybe today I can find a few minutes to puzzle out the next step in knitting my first sock... the heel.

Dishes

This photo shows a typical view around here... huge mounds of clean dishes. And this happens once or twice daily. 

Washed dishes stacked as high as possible in draining rack and spilling across the counter

This comes from cooking everything from scratch for multiple food allergies and sensitivities.

We are thankful for our automatic dishwasher (named "Ada"), which also washes a full load or two each day. 

And thankful to have food to cook and eat,
     kettles in which to cook,
          an electric stove and oven,
               water (hot and cold) in our sink...
                    

One Day's Rhubarb Harvest

Heading to the freezer:

Mom's arms filled by long stalks of red rhubarb and big green leaves

This winter we will enjoy fresh rhubarb sauce and tasty rhubarb/apple crisps.

The Last Roses of... a Birthday

Thankfully we have not yet reached "the last rose of summer." Our old-fashioned yellow rose bush is just finishing blooming, but the red bush is just beginning, and our tea roses are yet to come.

But the beautiful bouquet of roses Dad brought home around my birthday is reaching its end. The last few roses are drying in rich tints of rosy pink (fancy that - they are "rosy" colored!) which blend perfectly with the quilt blocks over our mantel.

A Friend and her Piano

How special to spend an afternoon visiting with an old friend this spring and to make the acquaintance of her beautiful, new-to-her, grand piano!

First I asked to hear her play so we could enjoy the piano's voice under the fingers of one who knew and loved it. She brought out the sweet pathos of "Father's Favorite" from the "Sense and Sensibility" video we first saw nearly 20 years ago. Then a Southern Gospel arrangement of a hymn rumbled the rich bass and set our toes tapping.

Next, Elsa and I had a bit of fun!

We tried a duet of "Heart and Soul" and remembered the many hours we spent together at the piano in childhood - improvising our own "masterpieces."

I also played a favorite from my well-worn book of Edvard Grieg's Lyric Pieces. A sweet song with a sparkling surprise in the middle has the sad name of "Homesickness." When I once played it in Russia, I thought of my home here. Now it can make me homesick for Russia.

Or we can just enjoy the beauty and creativity of the rich harmonies and sweet melodies - especially on a friend's new piano. We are so happy for her!!

The "Universe"

I grabbed some tea one morning and glanced at the tag as I poured my hot water from the electric kettle. 

UFFDA!!

[If you're not a Norwegian-American, it's difficult to fully translate that exclamation - pronounced "OOF-duh". It is very flexible and suits many situations. In this case, it expresses a combination of: "Man... I can't believe what I'm seeing... Wow... That's terrible... and sad."]

Tea bag tag: "Empty yourself and let the universe fill you."

I've been running across more of this belief in am impersonal, powerful "Universe" lately. People are so desperate to get rid of God, but they still sense there has to be something bigger than them. So they resort to some pretty scary stuff.

Do you know what can happen when you just "empty yourself?" You certainly won't stay empty for long.  And you might not like what comes along to fill you.

The Bible describes the "ruler of the kingdom of the air" (sounds a bit like "the universe") who runs (and ruins) the lives of the disobedient and sinners. (Ephesians 2) He would love to fill us if we give him the chance. 

Jesus shares a chilling illustration of this in Matthew 12:

"When an evil spirit comes out of a man, it goes through arid places seeking rest and does not find it. Then it says, 'I will return to the house I left.' When it arrives, it finds the house unoccupied, swept clean and put in order. Then it goes and takes with it seven other spirits more wicked than itself, and they go in and live there. And the final condition of that man is worse than the first."

 To combat this dangerous situation, the apostle Paul reminded his friends in Ephesus (Eph. 4:20-24) that when you...

1. Put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires

 ... then you must...

2. Be made new in the attitude of your minds

... and don't forget to...

3. Put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.

 Just a few thoughts from a tea bag.

Balt and Mary

In 1998 we had a lonely Baltimore Oriole. He lived at our windows - pecking, flapping, whistling for attention... or for a mate. (Our red-cheeked, yellow-bodied Cockatiel shrieked back from his cage.)

This was back in the days before digital cameras and when you got free doubles when printing.  So, we ended up with lots of spare photos. Some turned into homemade greeting cards.

A card sporting our oriole friend at a bedroom window

For years I have taken on the job of feeding these brilliantly colored friends. (The ruby-throated hummingbirds love it too!) 

Male oriole enjoying some sugar-water

My favorite part about Baltimore Orioles is how very sociable they are. Each spring I listen for the unmistakable, clear, pure tones of their voices. Many years ago I learned that if I mimic their whistle (just the simplest of their various tones), they will come to a nearby branch for a "chat."

And then there is the comical, deep "rattle" of disgust, aggression, or warning.  "Stay away from my food!" "Look out! Cat in sight!"

It seemed that for several years we had the same oriole pair coming back to use their hanging sack of a nest in the big cottonwood outside my bedroom window. We named them Balt and Mary since the city of Baltimore is in the state of Maryland. Every year we heard the same songs and had the same conversations.

But this winter, the nest blew down. I wish I had gotten a picture of it - so intricately and densely woven of just as much plastic fiber as grass or hair.

And this spring a new pair arrived. How can I know that, you ask? Because Balt has a new song! The extra high note thrown into this little bird's joyful call is so new and funny - it keeps making us smile! In fact as I sit here typing near open windows, his is the primary voice I hear among our hundreds of resident birds.

Balt standing guard over the feeder

It has also been special to watch this young Balt and Mary build a new nest. Did one of them grow up here, we wonder? They chose the very same tree - maybe even the same branch in which to build! 

Oh, the antics of that orange couple...

- Long strings dangle and fall from the tree as they weave. I tried to help by cutting up an unwieldy vinyl strand they had found which was 15 feet long.

- The grapevine wreath which hangs on our front porch is also fair game, and they rough it up trying to take away some twigs.

- When Mary is taking a turn at the weaving and other birds try to harass her (maybe those naughty Common Starlings trying to steal the nest), Balt swoops in scolding violently and chases them off.  Good for you, Balt!

Such an amazing little part of God's creation!

Red-Headed Birthday Gift

As I rested by the glass, French doors to our deck on my birthday morning, I saw a special birthday gift -- a rare bird-sighting for our farm. The brilliant red head and black and white body of a red-headed woodpecker caught my eye as he explored our giant cottonwood tree.

Later, he was poking around the trees out back, and I tried to catch him with the camera.

Where's "Waldo?" Can you spot a red head peeking around the tree trunk?

Forget-Me-Not

These flowers have been a sweet spot of beauty in our perennial flower-bed again this spring.

My first memory of these delicate blue mounds was in Glacier National Park back in 1991. Somehow their name has stuck with me since then.

Forget-me-not

"Okay, I won't!"

This flower, by virtue of its name, also reminds me of a frequent warning in God's word. When God's people forget Him and what He has done, disaster follows.  Psalm 106 is just a brief overview of the many times this happened in the early history of God's people.  

"We have sinned, even as our ancestors did... they gave no thought to Your miracles; they did not remember your many kindnesses, and they rebelled..."

"Yet He saved them for His name's sake, to make His mighty power known."

"...But they soon forgot what he had done and did not wait for His plan to unfold. In the desert they gave in to their craving; in the wilderness they put God to the test. ... They forgot the God who saved them, then they despised the pleasant land; they did not believe His promise."

"Therefore the LORD was angry with His people... He gave them into the hands of the nations..."

"Many times He delivered them, but they were bent on rebellion and they wasted away in their sin."

It sounds pretty hopeless. We tend to give up on people who reject us over and over. Amazingly, out of His grace and mercy - "out of His great love," God still choses to remember us.

"Yet He took note of their distress when He heard their cry; for their sake He remembered His covenant and out of His great love He relented." 

So when you see this delicate but oddly-named part of God's beautiful creation, what do you want to remember?