Cyber Jot

Endings and Beginnings

2011-12-17T16:39:00.000-08:00

Can't believe the year is almost gone. The sun is shining, a few leaves are clinging tenaciously to branches, and it is pleasant enough to take a walk. But the calendar confirms that there are only 8 days until Christmas, two weeks until New Year's Eve.

This year saw the beginning of collecting social security... and then a new job... for me. It saw the end... or nearly so... of Sasha climbing up on beds and couches and the beginning of curling up and sleeping on the floor in her snuggy bed.

This year began with saying good-bye to four friends in the space of 30 days, exactly, and the beginning of eternal life for them. I also saw friends make the same journey with a close and beloved friend of theirs. 2011 has taken its toll on our Life Group as numbers continue to dwindle and life-changing milestones come. Last year at this time we watched Larry fight the last vestiges of his cancer battle with Ethel by his side. This year we are watching Betty and John bear witness to a life-long love and the evidence of things not seen, the substance of things hoped for... one blessed day at a time.

I'm nine weeks out from neck surgery, a saga that began suddenly over three months ago... an experience that changed more than the configuration and appearance of my vertebrae. Much of my perspective has changed, a milestone of my own marking.

The most blessed beginning for our family was the arrival of my great nephew Benjamin in February. And next weekend we will get to see him enjoy his first Christmas. Maybe some day he will grow corn like Papa English. Whaddaya think? (Yes, corny.)

Time is precious and fleeting, filled with beginnings and endings... all blessed by the sustaining presence of God, the privilege of knowing Him through His Son, and the promise of spending all of time with Him. As you celebrate Christmas with whatever traditions mark your holiday, I hope you'll remember the beginning of Emanuel's journey "with us" so that all of our endings would be blessed with His promise of forever.

Changing Seasons

2011-11-12T10:44:00.000-08:00

In this time of changing seasons, much of my life is in transition.

I am surprised daily by how little energy I have during my recovery from surgery. Even though I am on a restricted work schedule, I can’t get used to how little on my to-do list gets checked off at the end of the day. I fall asleep as soon as I get comfortable in my lounge chair and can sleep 14 hours overnight. It is easy to over-do in the course of the day, but I am learning how important it is to truly recuperate.

I began a new full-time job as office manager/case manager with Northwest Marriage Institute under their three-year Pathways to Responsible Fatherhood grant. Working with this group of people will be a cut above most job experiences. We Christians aren’t perfect, but we share a faith-based perspective that frames our relationships and work ethic. Family counseling is uncharted territory for me and, except for the administrative commonality, will be a learning experience. Taxpayer funding of this non-profit has provided eye-opening exposure to the wasteful and plodding workings of government. No for-profit business could survive if it operated like a government bureaucracy.

This week I moved into my new office. It was fun to dig out my pictures and other office things that make the space mine. I love the huge window, but I look forward to changing the nondescript green walls to more livable brown tones.

My most recent renter violated the terms of occupancy in a damaging way, and I had to evict her. But my new boss needs an unfurnished space, and this fits the bill. So, yesterday I donated Mom’s furniture to the church in preparation for my new renter. I was surprised at how much it tugged at my heart strings to dissemble this place after 23½ years— 15 years after Mom’s passing.

At an age when many begin retirement, I am embarking on a new three-year working experience. That, and the prospect of an equally-long rental arrangement, opens the window to personal growth and financial stability.

“For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

Posting Post-op

2011-10-23T19:20:00.000-07:00

I'm two weeks out from surgery. Time to play catch-up on the blog.

Surgery

This was my fourth surgery experience. This one in yet another facility. My brother Lynn came down to be with me for this procedure and drove me to Legacy Salmon Creek Hospital around 6 AM on the 10th. But not before praying with me for a successful outcome.

LSC Day Surgery is conveniently located on the same floor as the sky bridge from the parking garage. Checking in went smoothly because all the pre-op paperwork had been done earlier. Lynn was given a number and a name tag so he could be updated when the surgeon was finished. Then we waited to be taken to my room. We tried three different chairs before we found anything we would call comfortable, but it wasn’t long before I was called. By then Avis had joined us.

Small cubicles lined the corridor, each with a complete glass front that included a sliding door. The first order of business was getting changed into a heavy, double-thickness paper gown complete with air duct attachment for hoses from a heating/cooling outlet. Then came taking the medical history that had not yet been done (meds/supplements), along with vital signs and starting an IV. Word came that the surgeon wanted to start half an hour early, so I was double-teamed, answering questions from one nurse while the IV was inserted by another. That nurse believed me when I told him that my veins were so good he could hit them from across the room, and he started the IV without using a tourniquet. Good man. He was also appropriately entertained by the banter between Lynn and me.

Chaplain Bill Hunter from my church came by to offer good will and pray with us. Much appreciated. The anesthesiologist stopped by, a fresh eager young man on his first day at this hospital. As he began to list the possible side effects, I assured him both that I was in the medical field and that God was in control. The last part made his face fall. He did not recover until Avis told him as he left my cubicle that “we are counting you, Doctor, to do a good job.”

When Dr. Musleh stopped by, carrying his surgical scope in a well-worn case, he asked me to lean forward and marked a spot on my lower back. I asked him if he was teasing me. The male surgical nurse who accompanied him reminded him that I was having neck surgery. Embarassed, but also pushed out of his routine by the assembled number of staff in the room, he stepped back and marked the correct area on my neck. I teased him and told him I hoped he had an alcohol prep, because I wasn’t going into surgery until that mark on my back was erased.

Saying good bye to my two supporters, I was wheeled on my gurney to a surgical suite just before 8 AM. I remembered the coolness that hit my face just as the nurse told me not to worry about the temperature, since I would be heated up by my high-tech gown. Scooted onto the table, I saw my anesthesiologist above my head and was repositioned until I was “just right.” My memories of the breathing mask are short.

I woke up at 11:20 AM in Recovery. I immediately noticed two things: the pain was gone and I was remarkably alert (based on my past experiences with anesthesia). My nurse was amazing. Not only was she solicitous toward me, she was helping at least two other nurses with their patients and fielding questions which she readily—and happily—answered.

Back in my cubicle (#222), I was monitored by a new nurse, who was the best yet. Lynn and Avis came back. Melanie and Shannon dropped by. My blood pressure finally dropped enough that I was sent home. But not before Lynn was sent to the pharmacy to get my Rx.

Home

I was home by 4 PM, settled into my La-Z-boy while Lynn fielded phone calls from those checking up on us and my progress. I was feeling pretty good until I began to get nauseous a couple of hours after my narcotic pain killer and half an hour after my muscle relaxer. I threw up more than was in my stomach while Lynn was in the LR having a BFF conversation over the phone with his oldest grandson. For the first time, I questioned coming home today.

Getting in touch with the doctor proved quite frustrating. I think this clinic invented the run-around, intentionally or not. I finally called Day Surgery to see if they could help. I was transferred to my post-op nurse, and she was incredible. She not only confirmed my impression, but she also sent a message to my doc and his PA, both still in surgery. No wonder he had wanted to start early. By the time I got a call back, he was working on a 12+-hour day. I asked the PA if I could go back on the Vicodin I had left, and Lynn made another trip to another pharmacy for anti-nausea meds.

I didn’t trust myself to self-medicate during the night, so Lynn was up every 2 hours with my pain meds. Toward the morning hours, he had to wake me, so that was a good sign. We both napped throughout the next day, but we also walked a loop around the park… a half mile or so.

Lynn stayed and helped for a couple of days, going home late Wednesday evening after a long wait to get a refill on the Vicodin. I discovered that half a mile was too much exertion, but we did manage a couple of hands of cards along with a grocery run.

In the ensuing days, I learned that too much activity led to a day of feeling lousy, but days of activity were welcome, especially lunch out, cards, and a movie with the girls a week after surgery. And well worth the cost.

Post-op

Ten days out I went back for my post-op appointment. An x-ray confirmed that my head was on straight [:)] and revealed the cadaver bone spacer, titanium plate and screws that now fuse my C6-7 vertebrae in the front. When the PA asked if I wanted to look at my scar in the mirror after she removed the steri-strips, I said, “Sure, but I’m certain that I have enough wrinkles to hide it somewhere.” She laughed, but I was right. I will have a small 2-inch scar on the left side, tucked in the wrinkle encircling the base of my neck. I’m told I will feel like I have the flu for another few weeks, weak and achy. I was cleared for easy, half-days of work, but not much head movement, computer work, or lifting. They are pleased with my progress even though I still have several grades of weakness in my L arm, wrist, hand, and fingers.

Tingly fingers in my left hand since surgery have given rise to hope that more function will return. Saturday I was able to feel the raised marker on the "F" key of the computer keyboard for the first time in quite awhile.

Sitting without support for my head for long alerts me to how big my head is (something you all may have suspected long since), and I find that I cannot sit long at the computer. I’m still not driving. The blind spot looms frighteningly large with my limited head rotation.

The brightest spot in my recovery are the massages from Melody. Her magic fingers have all but eliminated the mirroring right-side pain ensuing from twisting when I was dressing to leave the hospital, giving me confidence that it is temporary. Not to mention my over-the-fence neighbor, Wendy, who constantly thinks up things to do for me.

What would I do without friends and family? My big bro is the best caregiver, my English “outlaws” are wonderful, my Life Group remains in a class by themselves, and my friend Karel is truly that and more. I am also thankful for my church and Demarle families, so many of whom have called, visited, sent cards, offered help, and most importantly, prayed for my healing.

Cutting Edge

2011-09-20T05:39:00.000-07:00

One modern imaging test and a consult with the appropriate expert, and the verdict is in. My September pain will be relieved by surgery to my neck sometime in the next couple of weeks.

The nerve root of T7, for those of you with a techno bent, is being pinched by a foramin stenosis at C6-7. In misery index terms, I have had unrelenting pain originating behind my left shoulder blade and pulsing down the outside of my left arm for almost three weeks now. First numbness in my ring and little finger, followed by worsening numbness in my other fingers. My best friend and worst enemy is Vicodin, 1/2 tab welcomed every 4 hours, begrudged more often. My MO is to reluctantly take Vicodin for a couple of days following some painful medical crisis, and then toss the prescription a couple of years later when I clean out the medicine cabinet. I don't do well on pain meds, so I take them sparingly and infrequently.

I am no stranger to this malady or its treatment. Ten years ago, I could trace the origin and insertion of the nerve that was being pinched at C5-6 from my right shoulder blade to my right hand. That surgical intervention followed weeks of "aggressive conservative" treatment of physical therapy and anti-inflammatory drugs. Surgery stopped the pain, but did not occur soon enough to prevent loss of function. I lose my grip without warning, especially when I'm tired. (Yes, I know, there's a pun hiding in there.) My dogs, who are constantly underfoot in the kitchen hoping for a dropped or proffered morsel, are conspicuously absent when I load the dishwasher at night. The doc makes no guarantees about relieving symptoms or improving hand function this time, only that the pain from the pinched nerve will stop.

The last time I had neck surgery, it was a "day surgery" but they didn't get me out the door until very late in the day because every time I put my legs over the side of the bed, my BP shot through the roof. The next morning when I woke up, all I could think of was that some Indian had snuck up behind me and sunk a tomahawk in the back of my neck.(I know, so politically incorrect, but I am so NOT PC most of the time anyway.)

This time, they will schedule me as an inpatient. The surgeon will need to go in thru the front, and because he will have to cut away bone to reach the back portion, he will put a bone shim in between the vertebrae and a titanium plate to fuse them afterwards. I'm told it won't be as painful as when they cut from the back through all of that muscle tissue, but I won't be driving anywhere the first week because of pain meds.

The surgery will cause trauma to the nerve to my voice box, causing hoarseness at best or Julie Andrews syndrome at worst. I'm still mulling over the voice box issue. He said they could go in from the left and avoid the nerve, but it would be harder to do than going in on the right side and having the angle to work with. My call in the end.

That's about all that I know at the moment. I'm not supposed to lift anything, so most of my busy projects are nixed for now.

I'm thankful that we are supposed to have sunny days all week.

A Taste of Medicine

2011-09-04T18:10:00.000-07:00

Long Story, Long.

Early Friday morning, I awoke diaphoretic with my heartbeat pounding in my ears and experiencing a bit of discomfort in my chest. Left chest, to be exact. I got up, drank some water, and sat down at the computer. After posting a few 3 AM notes and emails guaranteed to raise eyebrows for their sent time, this activity had its desired effect, and I was off to bed.

I was sitting at my computer around 9 AM when I experienced the same symptoms of the early morning. Soon, however, I also had a sharp knife-like pain in my left shoulder blade that very quickly started shooting down my arm. Hmmm. Three for five of possible signs of a heart attack. I debated because I didn't feel that bad. In pain, yes, seriously ill, no. Choosing to feel stupid for being overly cautious over feeling very stupid for ignoring classic symptoms, I went to Legacy's Salmon Creek ER.

I told them I was having chest and back pain and I just wanted to make sure I wasn't having a heart attack. The only thing that will get you admitted into ER faster than those two words is a chauffeured ride in an ambulance. The triage nurse did my vitals, including O2 Sat, right there.

As soon as I was in a room, an IV was started with the rainbow set of blood drawn (one of every color tube just in case), and an EKG was done, which proved to be normal. I was hooked up to all of the monitoring equipment, including an automated BP cuff, electro heart leads, and O2 Sat. Then began the grading of pain levels followed by the administration of nitro under the tongue, reassess; more nitro, reassess; Vicodin, reassess. The second nitro seemed to help, suggesting a cardiac component. But, the cardiac enzymes came back normal as did the D-Dimer clotting test.

At every step of negative results, the staff complimented me on my decision to come, saying that I was exactly where they would want a relative of theirs to be. Not out of the woods yet, the ER doc wanted to admit me overnight for observation. My ER nurse Sterling coaxed me into staying by relating his own story of being exactly where I was and telling me how nice the rooms were upstairs. OK. Even though it was mostly CYA medical practice, it was also pragmatic. I also think my ER nurse was growing fond of me for my sense of humor. Every time he scanned the bar code on my ID bracelet I asked him if I was on sale yet or if it was the PLU code for the meds/test. He also liked that I was, like him, a fiscal conservative. We agreed on the likely effect of Obamacare on health care.

So, I made a few calls to alert family and close friends of my plight and to insure care of my garden. I soon met my admitting doc, an Indian lady with an accent that infuriates me on the other end of computer technical problem calls with "Shirley," but seems to dignify her profession. It was quite a wait for a vacant room in PCU (Progressive Care Unit). In all, I spent 4.5 hours in the ER.

The PCU nurse and technician were most solicitous as they redid my vitals and hooked me up to their heart/BP monitor. In case you've never had the experience, that middle breast pocket in your hospital gown is not for your cell phone, but for the remote heart monitor, whose leads snake through the back slit in the pocket to the color-coded sticky pads on your chest and abdomen.

Since I had had nothing to eat all day and it was now mid-afternoon, I asked if I might get something to eat. They suggested a sandwich; I suggested yogurt. I got both the yogurt and the insides of the sandwich. (It is worth noting that this was one of 4 times that I was meticulously asked about my food allergies. Of the three meals I got while there, only one was gluten and egg free. Even so, milk and custard or pudding came with every meal.)

"Anything else you need?"

"Do you have anything to read?"

"Yes, we have a library; I'll ask them to come by."

They did. I picked 3 paperback books, just in case I picked poorly. I didn't last long reading. Too many pain killers on board, but not enough to stifle the boredom. Gorgeous weather outside my window and nothing on TV on the Friday afternoon of Labor Day Weekend.

Dinner was a welcome interruption. And, I could actually eat the turkey divan (overdone), wild rice and carrots (also overdone). I did not get through all of the salad since I couldn't eat the dressing, but I gave it a good try. No go on the chocolate pudding or low-fat milk.

My big brother Lynn arrived from Seattle around 9 PM to check on me and get a key so he could spend the night at my house. By then I had just about decided that my scapula felt out of place, and I asked him to press on my back... Right. There. Best course of treatment so far. Big brothers will be big brothers, and I have one of the best.

The second set of cardiac enzymes came back negative. Good news. I settled down for the night with only 1/2 a Vicodin tablet and a warm blanket to ease my back pain. That in spite of learning that nightly meds in PCU routinely included the anti-acid Pepcid (your symptoms may be caused by indigestion) and sleep aid Ambian (not, as you might suppose because it is notoriously difficult to sleep in noisy hospitals, but because most people are anxious when hospitalized). That dose of Vicodin was followed by the same dose about every 2 hours throughout a restless night.

Shortly after 5 AM, a lab tech interrupted my cherished sleep to draw my blood. I have to say, having done that to hundreds of patients during my career, I had little room to complain. But, I do have to mention that his technique would result in retraining were he on my staff. (Yes, I guess that is a complaint... leaving the tourniquet on while assembling tubes and putting a needle in the vacutainer holder not only prolongs the patient's discomfort, it elevates K+ levels, which are most significant in cardiac patients. And re-probing the vein after cleansing the area with alcohol is well... just stupid when you’ve walked away for 3 minutes after cleansing the area so you don’t remember where it was. Not to mention that my vein practically flashes neon to mark its location.)

I was feeling nauseous, so much so that I was not overly put out that my breakfast had only one thing I could eat... and the oatmeal didn't taste at all good to me… or likely anyone else on the planet. Of course, my mouth tasted like I had been taking Vicodin all night. I wished that my breakfast of scrambled eggs, pancakes, & OJ had come before Lynn asked me over the phone who served breakfast close to my house. Still, I made several passes at the oatmeal, but ate little. Maybe Elmer's was the best choice for him.

My doc stopped by to tell me that the second set of cardiac enzymes were negative. Woohoo! I asked if she might have any idea of the origin of the pain I was experiencing. Her guess was that it was muscular-skeletal pain. For about the 12th time since I arrived at the hospital, I was asked if I were active.

"Yes."

"Are you doing any new exercise routines?"

"Yes."

"Well, that is important information (spoken like I had been withholding this valuable piece of the puzzle up to now.). That could very well be your problem. But, we will do 3 views of your chest just to be sure nothing major is going on like a tumor or a broken bone."

"OK."

"And then you will likely be discharged later today." Double Woohoo!

But, a stress test should be scheduled as an outpatient.

I missed a call from Karel while in the bathroom peeing in the half-hat to measure "output" and returned it late enough that I thought I'd miss her, but the Wilmoths hadn't left for the beach yet. So, I caught her up on my prognosis. Triple Woohoo on the negative cardiac tests.

Lynn and I watched college football ~~games~~ routs and noted with delight that Oregon was playing LSU later. Lynn texted DIL Anna (from Shreveport) with "Go Ducks," but received no reply.

Lynn's stomach was upset and the cafeteria didn't open until 11 AM, nor could he find any vending machines. So I asked the tech for some yogurt and 7-up the next time she came by. I ate the yogurt and gave the 7-up to Lynn. Good thing. In less than an hour, everything I had eaten came right back up. The garbage bag attached to my bed was not made for liquids, but it worked as an emesis bag in a pinch (BTW, have you seen those new emesis bags? They don't LOOK like something you would throw up in. Wink, Wink). The tech responded quickly to my call, though, and in a flash, so did my RN— with an IV push of anti-nausea meds. I kept saying that I felt much better after throwing up, but that did not prevent the administration of drugs. Their arsenal of drugs is not only extensive, but the first line of defense.

My lunch of allergenic food went untouched except for the custard, which Lynn ate.

It was late afternoon before the ER demands of the weekend radiology crew slowed enough that I got my x-ray. And, as I lay waiting for the transporter to take me back to my room after the x-ray series, the many voices somewhere in the bowels of radiology made me wonder if the shortage were only in transporters, because no one else seemed to be busy.

When my doc came to tell me nothing obvious showed on x-ray, she also recommended that I stay another night for observation and pain moderation. No, no, no. I hadn't eaten in 24 hours by then, and I so wanted to be home in my own bed. She somewhat reluctantly agreed and wrote about a zillion scrips for me with my discharge notes.

We left my van at the hospital after agreeing that I had too many pain meds on board to be trusted to drive. And, we stopped on the way home to pick up a burger. Yes, I stopped at BK on the way home from a hospital stay for observation for cardiac disease. But, that's our secret; you won't tell, right? Actually, I had planned to eat soup, but had no meat thawed, and Lynn wanted something more substantial. He got a Whopper, Jr. Meal and I got a Whopper Jr. Sandwich, no mayo, catsup or bun. And when we got home, I warmed up the roasted veggies from the fridge. So, we ate veggies with our red meat. Smile. Oh, did I mention the brownies (for Lynn) and frozen yogurt for dessert? Thought not.

We watched the ducks get plucked by LSU until mid 3rd quarter, and then we went to the garden to pick tomatoes. Lots of tomatoes. Except for the mosquitoes, I love going to the garden at dusk. So very peaceful. Puts me in touch with my farmer roots. Now, THAT'S therapeutic observation, unlike spending another night in ~~jail~~ the hospital. Lynn picked more tomatoes than he had since his gardening days in Richland three decades ago. While I watered the plants, Lynn investigated the other garden plots in our church property community garden. The mosquitoes found him. We came home to see how bad the score was and found that a few more feathers had been plucked from Oregon.

Neither of us lasted long after that, and I made it through the night with a couple of doses of Ibuprofen and woke feeling better than the previous morning in spite of not sleeping the night through. After a leisurely breakfast, Lynn headed to Seattle via the hospital parking lot to drop me off to pick up my van. I stopped by FM on the way home and filled the Rx for Vicodin, but none of the others. Again, that's our secret, right? And so far, I'm getting by with just the Ibuprofen every 2-3 hours.

I will probably follow up with the stress test, but I'm counting on an appointment with Dr. Whitmire to diagnose the pain I'm having. My greatest fear is that it is a pinched nerve since the symptoms mimic the pain I had on the other side previous to my C5-C6 radiculopathy. That surgery is very painful and the recovery is very long.

This part of the story is over with a good result, but it isn’t finished yet.

Long Story, Longer.

How Do You Find A Small, Deaf, Black Dog In The Dark?

2011-08-23T09:12:00.000-07:00

Sounds like a joke, right? 'Taint funny, McGee, in real life.

Last Wednesday night I came home around 9 PM. A short while later, two of my dogs alerted me to the fact that Sasha, my 14-year-old Silky, was missing. A quick search of the yard and house led to the discovery that the front door was slightly ajar. So, I got my flashlight and went to search for her. The challenge is that she suffers from age-related hearing loss, so I can't call her. Add to that the fact that she is mostly black and the reality that there is very little light on our street at night even with the streetlights, and it became a search and rescue mission.

Sasha has a pretty routine route when she escapes the confines of the house without a leash. She usually heads to the yard next door and makes her way down the cul-de-sac. I thought I would be able to intercept her somewhere along that route or catch her on the way back. Calling in reinforcements to help me search a wider circle around my house turned up no sign of her. Along the way, I checked in with a lot of my neighbors to keep an eye out for her. A lot of thoughts and prayers went through my mind during that search. I was mostly concerned that she not be lying injured or hurt somewhere.

After patrolling for an hour, I returned to the house to regroup. That is when the phone rang and a very concerned voice asked me if I was missing a dog. I immediately asked if they had her.

"Where are you?"

"On 102nd and about 58th." Eight blocks from my house in the opposite direction she usually heads, a long way in the dark.

"OK, I'll be right there. I'll be in a white van."

As it turned out, my neighbor, who had volunteered to help me search, drove me because her car was parked behind mine in the driveway. We made our way down 58th street by the park and all the way across 102nd to a van parked alongside the road. I was very relieved to see that Sasha seemed OK. The couple's little girl was having a great time holding her. The dad said they almost hit her because she was heading right down the middle of 102nd at a good clip.

I don't know if Sasha was running away from home or just on an untoward adventure, but it reminded me of the times that older people wander away from nursing homes and cannot find their way back. I was so thankful that I put my name, address, and phone number on the back of all of my dog's ID tags.

Sasha is home safe. The front door has been adjusted so that it closes securely every time. I am most thankful that my first instinct is to always pray for help-- and for God's provision yet again.

Fleecing

2011-07-26T09:32:00.000-07:00

Have you ever wondered about God's direction for your life? Have you ever asked God for a sign? Gideon did. Not once, not twice, but three times. Here is the story for context with the incidents highlighted:

The Lord turned to him and said, “Go in the strength you have and save Israel out of Midian’s hand. Am I not sending you?”
“But Lord,” Gideon asked, “how can I save Israel? My clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my family.”
The Lord answered, “I will be with you, and you will strike down all the Midianites together.”
Gideon replied, “If now I have found favor in your eyes, give me a sign that it is really you talking to me. Please do not go away until I come back and bring my offering and set it before you.”
And the Lord said, “I will wait until you return.”
Gideon went in, prepared a young goat, and from an ephah of flour he made bread without yeast. Putting the meat in a basket and its broth in a pot, he brought them out and offered them to him under the oak.
The angel of God said to him, “Take the meat and the unleavened bread, place them on this rock, and pour out the broth.” And Gideon did so. With the tip of the staff that was in his hand, the angel of the Lord touched the meat and the unleavened bread. Fire flared from the rock, consuming the meat and the bread. And the angel of the Lord disappeared. When Gideon realized that it was the angel of the Lord, he exclaimed, “Ah, Sovereign Lord! I have seen the angel of the Lord face to face!”
But the Lord said to him, “Peace! Do not be afraid. You are not going to die.”
So Gideon built an altar to the Lord there and called it The Lord is Peace. To this day it stands in Ophrah of the Abiezrites.
That same night the Lord said to him, “Take the second bull from your father’s herd, the one seven years old. Tear down your father’s altar to Baal and cut down the Asherah pole beside it. Then build a proper kind of altar to the Lord your God on the top of this height. Using the wood of the Asherah pole that you cut down, offer the second bull as a burnt offering.”
So Gideon took ten of his servants and did as the Lord told him. But because he was afraid of his family and the men of the town, he did it at night rather than in the daytime.
In the morning when the men of the town got up, there was Baal’s altar, demolished, with the Asherah pole beside it cut down and the second bull sacrificed on the newly built altar!
They asked each other, “Who did this?”
When they carefully investigated, they were told, “Gideon son of Joash did it.”
The men of the town demanded of Joash, “Bring out your son. He must die, because he has broken down Baal’s altar and cut down the Asherah pole beside it.”
But Joash replied to the hostile crowd around him, “Are you going to plead Baal’s cause? Are you trying to save him? Whoever fights for him shall be put to death by morning! If Baal really is a god, he can defend himself when someone breaks down his altar.” So that day they called Gideon “Jerub-Baal,” saying, “Let Baal contend with him,” because he broke down Baal’s altar.
Now all the Midianites, Amalekites and other eastern peoples joined forces and crossed over the Jordan and camped in the Valley of Jezreel. Then the Spirit of the Lord came upon Gideon, and he blew a trumpet, summoning the Abiezrites to follow him. He sent messengers throughout Manasseh, calling them to arms, and also into Asher, Zebulun and Naphtali, so that they too went up to meet them.
Gideon said to God, “If you will save Israel by my hand as you have promised— look, I will place a wool fleece on the threshing floor. If there is dew only on the fleece and all the ground is dry, then I will know that you will save Israel by my hand, as you said.” And that is what happened. Gideon rose early the next day; he squeezed the fleece and wrung out the dew—a bowlful of water.
Then Gideon said to God, “Do not be angry with me. Let me make just one more request. Allow me one more test with the fleece. This time make the fleece dry and the ground covered with dew.” That night God did so. Only the fleece was dry; all the ground was covered with dew. ~Judges 6

I struggle with my direct sales business. It does not have the security of a 9-5 job, and I provide my only household income. It demands that I grow in ways I've never been challenged to grow before. The financial success of our current leaders is about the same as I've had from my professional career. But, the potential of a ground floor opportunity is greater, both personally and financially.

Every time that I wavered in my commitment to this business early on, I got a call out of the blue from my sponsor— more than once when she misdialed! Though brief, the contact was encouraging. (Can you feel the damp fleece yet?) Not for the first time, I laid a fleece before God over the weekend about my continuation in this business. And, I have to tell you, I would have been happy with a "no" just to be able to make a decision and move on.

Our company training meetings always have raffles, with attendees earning tickets for attendance and participation. I never win. To increase your chances of winning at nationally sponsored events, you can purchase tickets. At the annual Demarle at Home convention this past weekend, proceeds from raffle ticket sales went to the family of one of the earliest members of the US sales team, who is now in hospice care for end-stage cancer. I purchased tickets for Karen's family without any thought of winning.

US Chairman/CEO/Partner Cindy Juncaj announced the introduction of a new French pastry cookbook on Saturday morning. Translated from French, the cookbook is in the final stages of proofing, and she showed a prototype to us. She also made a spur-of-the-moment decision to raffle available copies off, whereupon I laid out my fleece. What could be more improbable than my winning a French Pastry Cookbook? I never win anything and I'm gluten intolerant! Moreover, by that point, over $1688 had been raised for the Walters family, meaning that at least 2100 tickets had been sold with a dozen or so drawings already held. What were the odds? I think by now you've already guessed that I am the warm, fuzzy owner of a new cookbook. The only one that was raffled publicly.

I am struck anew by the tenderness of our God. When Gideon asked, for the third time, "Are you sure about this, God?" he was also saying please don't be mad, but I need reassurance about this circumstance. It is important to note that Gideon never once questioned God's power or wavered in his devotion to Him. The first time, he even asked God to wait right there while he went to prepare a sacrifice to offer Him. Aren't you glad our God is willing to wait and is patient with our human frailty? I am.

My Aching Footprint

2011-06-29T14:56:00.000-07:00

This expression is from a friend of mine. I have no idea of its origin or meaning. My friend most often says this when she has a pointless Bunco roll or no move in Mexican Train or cards. Neither situation requires footwork, unless you consider metaphoric options. But, this week I have reason to agonize over my aching footprint.

I injured my right foot in May of last year while mowing the yard of the vacant house next door. What followed were several trips to a podiatrist, time wearing a splint and finally a boot, and months wearing a single pair of sandals. I graduated to a single pair of dancing shoes that I wore out.

Only recently have I begun to wear REAL shoes again: Dress shoes to church activities. Athletic shoes for exercise. Garden clogs in the yard. Stylish Wellingtons to water the garden plot.

But that came to an abrupt halt this week when I re-injured my foot. I am not even sure what I did to my foot, but walking around Ft. Vancouver on Sunday was a bit uncomfortable. By the middle of the night, my foot was throbbing enough to wake me up. By the time I finished collecting another four cans of yard debris on Monday, I was in serious trouble.

Ice and rest. Being on my feet to do only absolutely necessary tasks. Ice and elevating my foot. Back to wearing my trusty sandals. Ahh... I remember it well.

Oh, my aching footprint!

Pining for Summer

2011-06-18T18:54:00.000-07:00

Yesterday it was sunny. By 8:30 AM, I was at my garden plot weeding and watering. I planned to go earlier, but it was waaaay too cold. When the sun came up, tho, it warmed up pretty fast. I shed my coat soon after I started my gardening chores.

I spent most of the day in the backyard attacking the weeds that are so prolific in our neighborhood and gathering the winter's accumulated yard debris~ five 32-gal containers in all before I ran out of time and steam. Three to go, at least. After I blew the debris off the patio, it was time for some serious sun time. Nice!

I even walked over to my neighbor's for our continuing pow-wow on how to attack the critters responsible for tunneling through the four lots that converge at the SW corner of mine. (The saga continues, but our weapon of choice is the new molecat we decided to purchase and played with last night.) When I got home, I checked the weather forecast only to discover that we might get showers today. Late, late last night I transferred 3 cans of yard debris to the yard debris recycle bin for pickup on Monday to avoid getting wet.

I was OK with the showers I awoke to this morning. Not so much the torrential rains of the day. I notice that the prediction of 80-degree weather to coincide with summer solstice has been downgraded. I miss summer. It seems like only yesterday...

Mercies in Disguise

2011-05-28T06:59:00.000-07:00

I was recently given a CD with a song, new to me, by Laura Story about mercies in disguise. LINK The back story is a heartwarming one, and you will also find it there. I hope it blesses your heart as much as it did mine.

What may seem totally unrelated, but is not: For the first time ever, I have a garden this year~ only because part of the church property is being used as a community garden. It is within walking distance of my house, so it works well into my plans for better health in more ways than one.

Our spring has been cold and wet, with nights dipping into the low 40's. And the wide open garden plot is windswept by the prevailing East Gorge winds, not to mention those that accompany storm fronts. So I did some online research into hoop houses after seeing a reference to them by one of my FB friends. It seemed to be the perfect answer to shelter my tomato plants overnight for the next few weeks.

I was pleased to find that I had most of the materials and was able to build one for right around $10. Well, almost build one. My Ryobi drill quit working, newly charged battery notwithstanding, before I could anchor the framing boards so they would be sturdy and not tilt with the torque of the PVC arches. I did, however, get my plants put to bed and snapped this shot with my phone, which I emailed to several friends and family members. (Yes, it does somewhat resemble a campsite... the chair is old and ugly and there to provide respite before my walk back home... and a place for another friend to visit with fellow gardeners.)

I had called one of those friends to ask if he would help me put the last 8 screws into my support structure. He said that he could. He agreed to call me the next morning. He did as promised, and came by to pick me up around 9 AM. I really wanted to drive myself, but that didn't go over, so I climbed into his pickup. On the way, he told me he had burned his tomato plants with the shelter he had built. That was more prescient than I ever imagined.

When we arrived at the plot, I started to unwrap my plants and was pleased with how much better they looked than the night before. My friend got out his drill and started taking my structure apart. I thought he just didn't understand that the plastic unwrapped from the other side. Not so. My structure did not please him, so it had to come down. I cannot begin to tell you my reaction. I was so angry that I had to walk away. First. Time. Ever. I did not have time for this, not to mention that I had done my due diligence and knew my plans. That did not matter to him. My friend has a heart as big as Texas, but he is also domineering and stubborn. Which also reminds me of Texas. He is not that much older than me, but he has the mindset of the generation of men who "take care of their women." I am of the generation that spawned women's lib and have by necessity become independent because I am single.

This was to have been, at most, an hour out of my day. My protests fell on deaf ears. Assurances of "this won't take long" turned into a 5-hour project that pushed lunch to after 2 PM without completion. I had many plans for the last working day before the Memorial Day weekend. Instead, this turned into day 2 of making a structure for probably 14 days of use. Not to mention a trip to find materials that more than doubled my cost and a trip back out to the garden plot to be assaulted by wind and rain and hail to do what would have taken me 10 minutes had my original structure remained in place.

I do not have a picture of the new structure for you. I have no pride of ownership in it; it is there because of my friend’s will. I can tell you that it is high enough to accommodate the tall cages my friend deemed necessary to place over my 6-12” plants. Maybe it will help the plants visualize the expectations placed upon them. For now, it just makes it hard for me to walk.

Perhaps my friend's intervention saved my plants. I'll never know; you cannot prove a negative. I only know I was pleased with the initial success.

At the end of the day, I am left to search for lessons. I do not know how to stop my goodhearted friend from bulldozing his way into my space to impose his will, nor can I quell the anger that his presumption causes to rise within my heart. The most obvious lesson is to borrow the tool and not the tool owner next time. For now, I am left to ponder if my friend is one of God’s mercies in disguise.

Rejoice and Be Glad

2011-05-02T08:22:00.000-07:00

This is the day the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.
Psalm 118:24

Short verse, huge message. The concept of carpe diem is not unique to believers. Acknowledgment of the source of the day is. That is no small thing.

"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD,
“plans to prosper you and not to harm you,
plans to give you hope and a future..."
Jeremiah 29:11

God's plans for you today are bigger than yours. And that is cause for joy!

Predicaments, Perseverence, Prayer, and Praise

2011-04-13T12:21:00.000-07:00

Life throws me curves. But, none of them come without the permission of a loving God. We often hear the lament of how could a loving God allow (or even cause) bad things to happen. I'm still coming to grips with my understanding of that. While I do not believe that God causes problems, I do believe that because I have committed my life to Him, he filters the things that come into my life. So, why am I in this predicament?

God knows the way out, and this is my opportunity to trust Him.

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. James

If I didn't have anything left to learn, I suspect that God would be finished with me... and everyone who knows me knows how silly that thought is. No stranger would dare suspect as much, either.

So, the answer comes in praying for answers. How do we get out of this one, Lord? Because I surely cannot do it alone. And, He promises to lead the way. The struggle comes in not always wanting the answer He provides.

More importantly, finding a heart of praise in the midst of suffering may be the greatest lesson of all. I'm working very hard on that one.

Retreat, Relax, Refresh, Regroup, Recharge

2011-03-09T14:39:00.000-08:00

This past weekend marked the annual beach trip for the small group of Christians I meet with every Wednesday night to share a meal, time in the Word, and in prayer. To say that we are like family is to understate the depth of relationship we've developed both because of our common bond in Christ and our involvement in each other's lives.

Over a decade ago, the Wyatt Life Group made its first beach trek after a year in which every family in the group had endured significant health issues. This year we came weary with death, having experienced three deaths in as many weeks in our congregation. Our group's own Larry Schoenborn would not live to make this trip, but fond memories of him were inescapable. And we were joined by our dear brother Ron, whose wife Jo followed Larry home within two weeks of his departure.

I drove through the Coast Range in the aftermath of a Wednesday night snow storm, after varying road condition warnings of carry chains/chains required, to find the roads plowed and the sun waiting on the other side of the mountains.

The joy I experienced when we emerged in the sun was a great metaphor for the journey we'd all been experiencing over the past few weeks, most poignantly by those who had left us: they to find life eternal after much suffering, we to seek renewal after our grief at their suffering and separation from us.

The last two years we have gone to this beach house. It is perched on a hillside high above the beach in Oceanside, a town that remains untainted by tourism.

The house offers an unobstructed view of the ocean, a kitchen large enough to accommodate too many cooks, and ample seating around the dining room table that IS the central gathering place for us: we love to play games as much as we love to eat.

Another thing that brings me back to this house is that it offers more privacy for those of us who are single than any place we've ever gone. This large upstairs bedroom, with the same large windows as the DR/LR, also serves as a cozy gathering place for us gals.

We spent the next three days reading, enjoying too much food, snacking and playing games, ribbing each other, walking on the beach, talking, sharing memories and our lives, and just "getting away."

For me, there is no better place to get away than the beach. There is something about the vast expanse of water, the endless horizon, the rhythm of the waves, and the fresh ocean air that soothes my soul and refreshes my spirit like nothing else. Perhaps it is because the ocean's power and vastness brings me closer to God.

And, there is no better bunch of people to do it with. I love you guys!

Too Soon

2011-02-16T11:59:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I paid my last respects to Jeanne, a lovely sister in Christ whose death was both sudden and unexpected. Last week I honored the life of my dear friend, Larry, after a long and valiant battle with cancer that extended (by God's grace) more than twice as long as any doctor envisioned. Soon, our church family will gather to do the same for Joanne, whose battle with cancer is going to be far too short.

So, it was with especially great joy that I welcomed the birth of my great-nephew, Benjamin Henry Kelly, almost three weeks ahead of schedule. At 6 lbs, 14 oz, and 20.5 inches long, he made his entrance into the world around noon yesterday. And, he is a keeper. By all accounts, he is the spittin' image of his Dad. The world could use another man of Don's caliber, so that is welcome news, too.

Wisdom comes in recognizing that God's timing and ours are often out of sync. He welcomes my friends' deaths with as much joy as I welcomed the news of Ben's birth. All were ahead of schedule by my reckoning. But, His timing is perfect. It is my faith that needs perfecting. Jeanne, Larry, and Joanne all stayed here long enough to reflect the image of their Heavenly Father. And who could not find joy in that.

This Day

2011-01-18T19:31:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year!! The beginning of a new year always gives people the sense of a new beginning. Hang up a new calendar. Set aside the old, and bring in the new. Make resolutions. Celebrate a fresh start.

The truth is that the dawning of each day is a new beginning. Yesterday is done. Tomorrow belongs to the future. One perspective of the timelessness of eternity is that God lives in the now. God tells us in so many ways to live each day. Here, for example:

Give us this day our daily bread.

~from the Lord's Prayer

This is the day the Lord has made;
let us rejoice and be glad in it.

~from Psalms 118

Somewhat ironically, we seem more aware of our days-- and our dependency upon God-- in troubled times. When each day is struggle enough, we are thankful to get through it. When our days are numbered by age or illness, we cherish each day. When we have limited days to spend with a loved one or on vacation, we savor each one.

In the absence of those reminders, it is easy to squander today because of the perceived security of our circumstances. But, none of us knows what tomorrow will bring. You have a job today; you could lose it tomorrow. You are healthy today; you could receive a dreaded diagnosis tomorrow. You enjoy a favored relationship today; it could be broken or severed by death tomorrow. You live in comfort today; it could be snatched away tomorrow.

No matter our circumstance, the only true security is found in God. Although the Lord's faithfulness continues without interruption, his loving compassion is renewed with the coming of dawn.

Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him.”

~Lamentations 3

And therein lies a secret to overcoming. The dawning of a new day brings new strength. It is a new beginning.

This day belongs to the Lord, and I will draw strength from Him and live in anticipation of His blessings. Today.

Of Christmas Past and Present...

2010-12-29T18:58:00.000-08:00

We Baby Boomers escape having to declare our exact age. But, you know you're getting older when...

Your Christmas stocking contains the latest, greatest pill carrier
One of your favorite gifts is a flexible pillow with a hot/cold gel-pack
Time winding down with your brother in front of the gas fireplace often ends with you nodding off together in companionable silence

And, let's not forget how much Christmas has changed for those of us with Depression-era parents. Childhood gifts under the tree always included PJ's, socks, and undies, but few toys, something big if your folks had a very good year (think bumper crop)... regardless of how good or bad you were. Now our family tradition includes a Christmas stocking filled with treasures in addition to gifts under the tree.

This year, Smartwool socks and a cash-filled envelope for new clothes replaced the necessities of old. This "chef" was pampered with the two items I wanted... a can opener and small cutting board, PLUS a small whisk for good measure. A gorilla light that kept my great-nephew intrigued more than any toy rounds out the top gifts of 2010. Except, of course, for the 2011 calendar sporting his picture.

But, the greatest gift of all was being able to spend time with cherished family and friends. Thank you, God, for a stellar ending to 2010. I look forward to Your blessings in the coming year.

Happy New Year!

God's Timing

2010-12-16T21:34:00.000-08:00

My age will be on full display when I tell you that one of the first contemporary Christian songs I fell in love with was this scripture song from Ecclesiastes 3:11 "He has made every thing beautiful in his time:"

In His Time
In His time, in His time.
He makes all things beautiful, in His time.
Lord, please show me every day,
As You're teaching me Your way,
That You do just what You say,
In Your time.

In Your time, in Your time,
You make all things beautiful, in Your time.
Lord, my life to You I bring,
May each song I have to sing
Be to You a lovely thing,
In Your time.

At this particular juncture in my life, the words to this song often come to mind and play in my heart. God's timing is not mine, but it is a thing of beauty. As I bring my life and offer my gifts, I trust Him to take what is and make it lovely... however long that takes, whatever shape it assumes.

Each day this prayer is on my lips in one form or another. The flow of the day brings a new appreciation for simple blessings and a heightened awareness of my dependency upon Him. The God who made the heavens and the earth in six days and raised Jesus from the dead in three surely can manage the time constraints of my life. For He tells me He has numbered the days of my life. And He has proven His faithfulness to me so many, many times.

Note: Click on the title of the song to hear the original Maranatha release of it.

One Pair of Shoes

2010-10-31T19:52:00.000-07:00

For almost six months now, I've been wearing a pair of Nike sandals. They are my outside shoes and my inside shoes, my dress shoes and my casual shoes, my work shoes and my walking shoes. They are my shoes. Period.

As cold and wet weather approaches, I have adopted the classic North-western style, wearing socks with my sandals. Wool socks keep my feet warm even when they get wet, which occurs with predictable frequency now.

If you're wondering why these sandals have earned the status of exclusive footwear, it is because of an injury to my right foot on May 16th, a Sunday when I decided to be a good neighbor and clean up the yard at the abandoned house next door. As I mowed the lawn, I stepped hard on an unexpected incline and pulled up lame. At first my doctors suspected a stress fracture. In time, x-rays ruled out that diagnosis. Eventually a neuroma developed in the tender area, and the diagnosis changed to a soft tissue injury. It is supposed to heal. In time. Evidently that time hasn't yet come.

I've looked for a closed shoe to replace my sandals, thinking that surely some manufacturer makes a winter shoe with a similar sole. So far, I've had no luck. On a visit to the most exclusive specialty shoe store in town, I found nothing that coddles my foot like my $40 Nike sandals, on sale at Freddie's for $15 minus a 20% coupon on the day of purchase ($12 for those of you who are math challenged).

As I've rummaged through my amazingly extensive collection of shoes hoping to find a comfortable fit, I have been struck by how having just one pair of shoes has simplified my life. Yes, these sandals do nothing for a dressy outfit and detract noticeably from some color combinations. But, they work. I have not been denied access to any place I've gone in the past 22 weeks because of my choice of footwear. They have, in fact, almost become my fashion statement.

I'm thinking of checking the rest of my closets to see how I might simplify my life.

He Knows My Name

2010-10-02T19:15:00.000-07:00

As we practiced music tonight, one song in particular filled my heart: He Knows My Name. The lyrics go like this:

I have a Maker
He formed my heart
Before even time began
My life was in his hands

Chorus: He knows my name
He knows my every thought
He knows each tear that falls
And He hears me when I call
And He hears me when I call

I have a Father
He calls me His own
He'll never leave me
No matter where I go

He knows my name! There are 65 women on Facebook who share my exact name, 8 on LinkedIn. That's 65 to 73 "Kristi Webers" on the world-wide web! Yet God does not confuse me with them, nor they with me. I am in awe of a God who not only knows me intimately, but cares about me more deeply than I can comprehend. He knows everything about me. Out of millions of people, some of whom share my name, he knows me. And loves me. And seeks what is best for me. The God who created heaven and earth... and me... delights in me. What could I do but delight in Him?

Time to Remember

2010-09-26T18:59:00.000-07:00

This week marks 14 years since Mom went home to be with the Lord. A couple of months from now will mark 29 years since Dad did the same. I have now survived Mom almost as long as she survived Dad. It doesn't seem nearly as long. Funny how the passage of time can seem so different.

We're studying about family and God in our Ladies class this week, how the Jews spent time talking with their children about God and their history as his chosen people. I'm glad that God was important to my parents and that they instilled in me a desire to know Him.

God remains the constant in my life. My parents weren't perfect in their knowledge of Him, but He knows me perfectly. And that is enough. Thank you for being the sustaining Presence in my life, Father God.

Re-Entry

2010-09-26T16:05:00.000-07:00

My brother says there are trips and there are vacations. My sister-in-law calls return to the routine after being away "re-entry." Well, our jaunt to Puerto Vallarta was a VACATION and re-entry has been difficult for me.

I'm finally "in the groove" again, getting a lot done outside yesterday and making progress on inside tasks today. But, I'm very thankful for a time of relaxation so complete that it took a week to really get back to normalcy.

I hope you have had your share of "vacations."

What Happens in Puerto Vallarta

2010-09-15T07:35:00.000-07:00

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, but what happens in Puerto Vallarta can, for the most part, be shared. Don't ask us about our first full day. It will remain our private joke for life. We will tell you, though, that the zenith of our first shopping experience in Spanish was eating beanie weenies instead of chili dogs. Woohoo! It gave Karel and me much more empathy for the Friendspeak readers we have. Our shopping trip was not nearly as intense as the hour we spend with them as they struggle with English.

We're staying at Lois's timeshare, Vallarta Torres, very close to the marina, with units that overlook the bay. The sunsets have been spectacular. This really is a beautiful corner of God's world. The rain comes mostly at night, interrupting our sleep last night with several thunderbolts overhead. When it rains, it pours. This could be my idea of Camelot.

The first night, we helped release sea turtles into the surf. This resort has been raising them since 2002. However they measure the survival rate of baby turtles, they have increased the survival rate by ten fold through this program. But, when you start at 1/1000, it still seems insignificant. We have done this three times since we arrived and have one more chance to participate. The sea turtle has become the mascot/icon for our trip.

We are spending a lot of time in the pool. We have taken advantage of the water aerobics, not so happily the first day when it was postponed to high noon. We all turned a little red on the sunny side. Yesterday we had the session all to ourselves, and our instructor went easy on us. Our instructor is one muy bueno hombre, so he is very easy on the eyes. He watches to see when everyone starts lagging and does a Mexican trill to make everyone lighten up. He also makes us count with him in Spanish, which is good for us. One more chance to do this tomorrow. Exercise, hot tub, back in the pool to swim, and time on the lounge chairs in the sun. I think I've finally found my calling.

All of our friends will understand that the majority of our time was spent at our favorite past-time: marathon rounds of Maui, Naniamo Rummy, Phase 10, Skip-Bo, and more card games. We meet many people who recognize us as "those card players" and ask us if we're sisters. Well, yes, in the most important sense of the word.

The vendors are unrelenting with hawking their wares, "For you almost free today." We went downtown and found a drug store with bargain T-shirts, our souvenir of choice. Yesterday we hit the flea market down by the marina. No cruise ships were in port, so they were anxious to make a sale for the day. Karel looked the most approachable, and one guy even put a man's belt around her waist. Hard sell. The vendors stroll the beach outside the gates of the condo, too, giving mucho local flavor to the experience.

Yesterday afternoon Karel and I were walking the beach and saw a man carrying a fish. When he got closer, I asked him about it. He said he grabbed it out of the surf. It was a small dogfish shark. True or a good story for those gullible Americanos?

Now that we've gotten a handle on shopping, we are eating better! We are enjoying the fresh vegetables and fruit. Dinner is complemented with spectacular sunsets.

Tonight we have a fiesta to celebrate the liberation of Mexico. One more day in paradise!

Seasons

2010-08-31T10:18:00.000-07:00

The weather has been foreshadowing fall's approach for weeks, and now September is less than a day away. Even with all of the clues that summer was nearing a close, it seems like only yesterday that the nice weather finally came. I have to admit that I'm not yet ready for the change of season, and I'm glad to be heading to sunny Mexico for vacation in a few days.

Life is like that. We look forward to milestones that never seem to arrive and are stunned by time that flew by so quickly as to be unnoticed. The 21st birthday that looms so far ahead that it seems it will never happen... and the 50th birthday that can't possibly be coming to someone who feels so young. Retirement has more and more appeal to me, even though it doesn't seem possible that I could be old enough to consider it.

God doesn't seem to share my problems with time and the seasons of life. Although there are times when I understand perfectly how a day could be like a thousand years to Him, I have not developed His sense of timing. Phrases like "in the fullness of time," "at just the right time," and "chosen before the foundation of the world" portray a precision and purpose that eludes me. So, I share this prayer of Moses from Psalm 90:

Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.

My prayer for you, as well, is that you may learn to gauge your seasons of life well.

My First Rendezvous

2010-07-21T11:48:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, I walked up to a couple of friends of mine at church. One told me we were going to a party the next night. I asked, “You’re going to a party tomorrow night?” She smiled. “WE’RE going to a party. I get points for taking you.” So began my introduction to Demarle at home.

The next night, I discovered this uniquely designed silicone-spun glass product that bakeries and commercial enterprises around the world have been using for decades, but has only recently been introduced to the US consumer market. I don’t spend a lot of time in the kitchen, so I did not expect to see anything that would tempt me. I could not have been more mistaken. I have been concerned about the harmful effects of chemicals introduced into my food by my habitually convenient meal preparation:

Common nonstick cooking surfaces leach into food at cooking temperatures
Leftovers apportioned in plastic containers and reheated in the microwave become contaminated with BPA’s
Recent warnings about microwave popcorn packaging

Demarle’s completely nonstick (no oil or spray), Kosher-certified (inert) flexipans and Silpat pads solved all of my concerns in one fell swoop, with a life-time guarantee to boot. I was hooked! Everyone needs to hear about this product (whether they buy it or not)!

Last night, I hosted my first Demarle rendezvous (French company’s term for ‘party’), which was also my business launch into direct sales of Demarle at home.

Individual turkey meatloaf portions and seasoned, roasted veggies. YUM!

These Parmesan crisps are made by baking a tbs of shredded Parmesan on a SILPAT pad for just a few minutes (don’t try this at home without one). It makes a crisp salty snack or crunchy salad topping when crumbled:

Check these products out at Demarle’s website. Better yet, host a party so you can get started with some free stuff! Contact me at kristiathome@gmail.com or leave a comment for more info.

Mere Mortals?

2010-06-28T10:06:00.000-07:00

One of the few really nice days of the year enticed many of us outside on Saturday. As I stood leaning against the post that kept cars from entering Esther Short Park, a crowd streamed past me on its way to the Recycling Fair and adjacent Farmer's Market. My perch provided a superb people watching vista: summer wear exposing too-pale skin, young adults displaying extreme body art, groups of teens with piercings, middle-aged men sporting paunches that lap over shorts and bulge under T's, overweight bodies of all ages testifying to the growing diabesity pandemic, dogs with doting masters in tow, moms pushing kids in strollers overflowing with paraphernalia, folks in mobility power chairs edging their way through foot traffic. Anonymity fostering rudeness as too many bodies compete for too little space.

It is very easy to focus on the obvious. Easy to let visual clues reinforce prejudices. But, God calls us to look beyond the external to grasp the eternal. To look past what is right in front of our eyes to see what is on God's heart. To be less concerned with where people come from than where they are going to spend eternity. To look at people with God's love instead of our interest.

"There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations-- these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit-- immortal horrors or everlasting splendours... Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses."
C.S. Lewis

My neighborhood is in transition. The houses next to me have been abandoned by owners whose mortgages were upside down. When the marriage of a neighbor who worked on motors in his garage broke up and he moved out, I was more relieved than concerned. The noise from his business carried long into the night. His grown-up toys took up all of the curb space along my lot and gave our neighborhood an unflattering industrial look. We've speculated that this house would be the next one on the market.

I've been praying that God would be active in this transition. But, when my former neighbor moved all of his toys back last weekend, it wasn't the answer I was seeking. And I'm challenged with the task of showing God's love to someone who does not respect boundaries. Note to self: this man is no mere mortal.

Catching Up With Family and Friends

2010-05-18T06:03:00.000-07:00

This blog is terribly neglected these days. I'm not quite sure if that's been because I exhaust my creative juices writing other things or because I have had no commentary to offer. In any case, it is time to express my gratitude for family and friends.

A couple of weeks ago, I attended the AMWA Spring Board of Directors Meeting, which was held in Rockville, MD. I reconnected with some of my AMWA friends and made new ones. One of the joys of being part of this group is the instant connection between people who can obsess over comma placement.

I caught up with the delegate from the Southern California chapter in Denver, and we shared a cab from Reagan International to our hotel. We will likely never forget the adventure of being sideswiped on the freeway in rush-hour traffic. Our cab driver was frantically talking about the accident on his cell phone, while ignoring the attempts of the other driver to get him to move his cab close enough for them to exchange information. The man who hit us finally gave up and drove away, leaving our driver to his electronic devices. I really enjoyed getting to know Noelle over the next few days. Our strongest connection was our shared faith in God.

From there I trucked (literally) to Altoona, PA, to visit my nephew, Ryan, and his bride, Anna. This Saturday marks their first wedding anniversary. A year ago, we were all in the Bahamas celebrating them and enjoying time with family. Since then, Ryan has successfully defended his doctoral thesis and finished his first year as an assistant professor of English. Both he and Anna (MFA) teach English courses at Penn State-Altoona. It was good to see them getting established.

I not only saw their first home, but met dog-children Eloise (Elle) and Baxter. They are quite a pair. Elle (Australian Shepherd mix) is the regal alpha dog, and Baxter (Jack Russell mix) is the pesky little brother, who competes for attention.

We did some sightseeing on campus and in nearby State College. I was treated to my first ever exploration of an underground cave-- the nation's only water cavern, no less. And I taught them a new card game, Nanaimo Rummy, which they plan to show to Anna's folks.

I also can boast of sitting at the table of Newlywed, Newly Veg. While I can claim family privilege, there are a growing number of admirers who would be quite envious of me. Anna is making a concerted effort to prepare healthy food, and her presentation has a definite artistic flair.

This week, I will get to catch up with two people I've not seen in years. My college roommate, Carol, is planning a visit to my home and the Oregon coast. We have a friendship that picks up right where it left off, as if we'd never been apart. Saturday, I will catch up with long-time friend, Ken, at a church function. I greatly admire his dedication to wife Susan, who suffered a stroke during preparation for surgery several years ago and can no longer live at home. His love for her remains strong.

It is a good time to be thankful for family and friends. And, I am.

Lambs and Lions

2010-03-31T11:44:00.000-07:00

That gentle lamb that was beguiling everyone last week got up, stretched, roared, and stalked off like a lion. A week ago, I spent the day outside cleaning up the yard in sunny, 66-degree weather. Today it is a stormy 44 degrees, with snow levels down to 1000 feet. No wonder March is seen as a fickle month, weather wise.

This week also saw me break my almost year-long record of wellness. I'm nursing a bad cold today, which seems to have settled in my chest. But, I'm not alone. Almost half of my friends and coworkers have been visited by this bug. I got lax about hand-washing and using Purell when it seemed that spring had arrived. Now I'm paying for it.

I can't help but think of the admonition from Peter:

Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. I Peter 5:8

It pays to keep your guard up, when it comes to your safety.

But, God

2010-03-21T20:04:00.000-07:00

I heard a refreshing talk this morning by Jerry Rushford about how unmistakable is God's presence in the world. Whether God alters the best-laid plans we make, fixes the worst circumstances in which we find ourselves, or otherwise interrupts our routine, He impacts our lives and makes Himself known. Whether He's left out, left behind, or left in charge by us, He's present in this world. He's in control. And He knows just when to make an appearance to remind us of that. And, if our hearts are right, that experience can change our lives forever.

Got a few minutes to be impressed by God's working? Download this 46-minute talk and be surprised anew by the all-surpassing love of an omnipotent God.

Perceptions

2010-01-09T07:49:00.000-08:00

Ever wonder how you appear to others? Prompted by a Facebook friend, I recently posted this request:

Leave a one-word comment that you think best describes me. It can only be ONE word. No more than one word.

The responses:

integrity
comforting
honest
wordsmith
passionate
capable
genuine
knowledgeable
funny

(Of course, one jesting or clueless friend merely wondered what the question was. His last post was Kristi.)

All true, but somewhat overwhelming in sum. More interesting than the words themselves was learning who chose to describe me with each of those words. And that led me to wonder how often we let people know what we see in them.

Not long ago, I sent a card to a friend telling them something I appreciated about them and why. They had no idea. And they were so gratified to know that.

I'm not much into New Year's Resolutions. They seem destined to fail. But, discounting the timing, I'm going to make an effort to be better at uplifting people in this way. To tweak a phrase, it only takes an encouraging word. Just one.

Emmanuel, the Gift of Christmas

2009-12-17T22:02:00.000-08:00

The staggering message of the Christmas story is the arrival of God in the World— Emmanuel, "God with us." Majesty gracing the mundane. Omniscience enlightening the clueless. Omnipotence empowering the helpless. Love transforming the hateful.

This week we looked at the story of Zaccheus. It makes a great children's story, because every kid loves to climb trees. And the song is a lot of fun. It is easy to miss the heart message: the impact of the person of Jesus on a man whose life was mostly concerned with money, and not in a good way. Tax collectors were no more popular then than now. The words that come out of Zaccheus' mouth are unexpected. Those of his ilk were not known for being honest or repentant. But, Zaccheus is both. Jesus had that effect on people. Emmanuel impacting the hearts of men.

I was reminded of a recent experience. I took a friend to be checked out by her caregiver at the same clinic I visit. I also know many of the allied medical personnel there. As we were waiting for her to have a diagnostic test, a technician known for being very surly and difficult to get along with walked by. When I mentioned this to my friend, she said, "He has always treated me well." As more than luck would have it, he turned out to be the one who tested her. When he came out afterward to confer with her, his demeanor astonished me: soft spoken, kind, tender, concerned. I knew the dynamic was the result of this woman's loving spirit. She has that effect on everyone. I think Jesus would approve.

Being Jesus to the world. It is the year-round mission to which we have been called.

More Than We Can Imagine

2009-11-24T18:24:00.000-08:00

I am always humbled by the passage in Matthew 10 that speaks of God's knowledge and protection:
“So do not be afraid of them... 29Are not two sparrows sold for a penny^d? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. 30And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 31So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.

Regardless of the context (I do not fear for my life), it is hard to comprehend that God knows not only when a relatively invaluable sparrow falls, but how many hairs are in my head. Harder still, that he loves me enough to care.

The next time you walk the beach, notice the feathers that litter the sand. None fell outside of God's will or without His knowledge. Yet, He cares even more about the "feathers" that fall in my life and yours.

It should not surprise me that the God who created the universe is so actively involved in sustaining it, but it does. I remain astonished at the value he places on my life. Every experience, every moment of my life is seen in the context of the eternal purpose He has for me... and He cares about each one. That is priceless.

With a Grateful Heart

2009-10-18T21:37:00.000-07:00

I recently read tips on surviving months-long unemployment. Along with resume and job-hunting tips were health tips like exercising and eating healthy foods. I would like to add to that recipe the art of developing a grateful heart.

More than ever before, I focus on finding joy in each day. I'm thankful for the small things, some I have taken for granted most of my life. Like waking up and feeling well. And greeting the morning with a rich cup of coffee, often on the patio watching the day brighten. Watching the birds as they discover the fountain... and the dogs as they discover the birds. I am especially drawn to an awareness of the blessing of family and friends. So if I tell you I thank God for you every day, know that I am telling you the truth.

Sound trite? It can be-- and often is in our hurry-scurry, deadline meeting lives. Now, as I have time, I'm taking time to notice. And to be grateful. Not only grateful, but prayerfully so. God surrounds me every day with reminders of his loving kindness, and each day as I thank Him for those things, I remain confident that this time has value... and my future is well secure in His hands.

If It Walks Like A Duck...

2009-09-08T16:53:00.000-07:00

Today I was scheduled for both morning and afternoon meetings at the Tower Mall offices. So, I decided to visit Ballew's for lunch. I can't remember the last time I was there, but I always enjoyed the little restaurant at 612 N Devine Rd.

I arrived promptly at 10:59 AM so I could meet my second deadline only to find that they "weren't quite open yet." I was anxious to wash my hands after using a public computer key board, and they were willing to let me use the restroom and take a seat to wait out resolution of last-minute preparation glitches.

Imagine my surprise when a lady came up to my booth with a camera, introduced herself as the restaurant's webmaster, and asked if she could take my picture to post as their "first customer." I had not noticed the banner outside announcing the grand opening of Duck Tales Kitchen by Steven & Jane Waddle, offering "Food, Drinks, and Catering." After a big smile and the click of a shutter, she made sure she got my name, spelled correctly.

While I was there, several folks from the neighborhood stopped by to chat and inquire if happy hour was still going to be an all-day Monday affair. It is. And I was glad for the warm reception the restaurant seemed to be getting. It is a gutsy thing to start a new business in this economy, but these are no amateurs when it comes to offering good food and a yummy atmosphere.

You may remember the Waddle name. This couple is related to Waddle's at Jantzen beach, which closed a few years ago to be replaced by Hooters. And, no, I've never been to the latter. But I would recommend that you try out the Waddle's new, smaller, culinary venture with a name that is equally ducky. I had the spinach shrimp salad with raspberry vinaigrette dressing, and it was wonderful. The salad was well presented, the shrimp was grilled to perfection, and the dressing was a perfect blend of tangy and sweet. Jane stopped by to ask how my meal was, and I was pleased to tell her it was very good!

You can check out them out at http://www.ducktaleskitchen.com/. (You'll find a picture of me and my salad.) Or, better yet, drop by for lunch.

The Joys of Home Ownership

2009-08-19T17:00:00.000-07:00

This week has been a page out of that mythical tome, "The Joys of Home Ownership." I decided to take on some yard projects this summer that I've been putting off for a long time.

First and foremost was replacing the patio slab that a tree root had jacked up to the point it was ready to lift the siding off the house, too. The contractor tore out the old one and poured the new one. Except for the clean-up and tearing up the yard, that was the easy part. But, I had them leave a space (theoretically 8X5') to put pavers in around the troublesome root so when it expanded enough to lift the surface again, it could be easily leveled out. The space didn't get measured correctly, so no pavers would easily fit. Not wanting to cut cement or stone, I looked for an alternative. A resin fountain at Costco had great appeal, but it didn't entirely fill the space. I finally decided to pour my own "pavers" and have been collecting materials all week. Today I finished setting the forms, and should be able to tackle the ugly part--mixing and pouring cement-- tomorrow. My friend says the driveway, which is filled with piles of rocks, sand and gravel, and cement mix looks like 40 years of hard labor splitting rocks; I hope the project doesn't take that long, but my experience leads me to wonder if it might.

The patio project required removing the six-year-old "temporary" fence so many times that it could no longer be "reinstalled." So, I bit the bullet and bought the materials to install the ideal fence I originally envisioned for that space. I have spent the last few weeks putting in posts, finding and assembling a trellace, and making picket sections fit the space and my dogs. I even figured out how to install a fence post that can be removed so trucks can still access the yard.

I also made an impulsive trip to the nursery to buy some perennials I discovered online that are rumored to tolerate shade. The last time I became this inspired was when Shelby and Sister Sue were little pups. I learned after the fact that I had "taught" them to dig plants, which they did well. All winter. At Christmas time they drug an azalea into the family room, forcing it through the doggie door. The bedraggled bush became our "Charlie Brown" Christmas tree. But, I digress. Having invested the money, I'm still trying to choose the best placement for the "shade-loving" plants I am betting on.

But, my experience is that no good, thought-out expenditure goes unpunished, let alone impulsive ones. Yesterday I discovered swarming carpenter ants all over and around the patio doors. Scores of them. After spraying enough febreeze scent to disable their wings and my eyes, I collected the lot with a paper towel and forgot all about it. Really. That is, until I came inside around noon today to discover hundreds of the creatures crawling on the utility room floor. I reflexively grabbed my can of febreeze. Then I turned around to discover yesterday's nightmare repeated at the patio door. All told, it took enough febreeze to disable my lungs, as well. When I called for possible treatment options, I heard the cash register "ca-ching" at $325. Oh, well, it's only money, right?

Oh, and did I mention that I've been fighting a colony of rodent settlers in my house for weeks now? I've caught 3 of them, the dogs have caught one, but evidently we're still being far too hospitable. I discovered rat droppings in the utility room cupboards and shelves for the first time this morning. And, the dogs are still on "critter alert." But, I'm wondering if some of the suspicious noise we've been hearing is the munching of wood...

A week from now, I hope to be sitting on the patio, listening to the water feature, and enjoying the new fence and plantings of the revived landscape. But, tonight, every muscle of my body aches, I'm tired and hot from working outside in 90+-degree weather, at the crack of dawn I'm tackling a complicated project I've never done before, and I'm sharing my house with both winged and filthy creatures.

You may think I plagiarized this from page 634 of "The Joys of Home Ownership." Maybe. Or, perhaps I wrote the book!

Happy Birthday to US

2009-07-04T21:21:00.000-07:00

On this Independence Day, I am particularly aware of our founding as a nation and the liberties I have taken for granted most of my life. I probably should say all of my life, but those times when my oldest brother served overseas in the Korean and Vietnam Wars brought the cost of freedom to our doorstep.

I see our liberty being taken from us day by day in the wake of the Obama administration's agenda, with few Americans challenging government intrusion in the private sector, the imposition of debt that will restrict opportunity for coming generations, or the laws that assail not only our standard of living, but the exercise of individual freedom. Every day I am stunned at the next step and the next and the next that are being taken to fundamentally change our way of life... with an unquenchable thirst for more governmental power by those whose vision for the future should be better grounded in our nation's founding. I no longer take our freedoms for granted as I am persuaded daily that those occupying seats of power in our nation's capitol do not share my love of such liberty.

Happy Birthday, USA, and I pray that this nation, under God, will continue to prosper as our founding fathers intended.

To renew your appreciation of our birth as a nation, watch this Francis Scott Key video (disclaimer: no contemporary political endorsements intended).

Serendipity

2009-06-18T08:39:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I stripped my bed and washed all of the bedding. It wasn't on my list of things to do or even high on my list of things that were due soon. My plate was already full, my energy level low after a poor night's sleep. But, for the first (and hopefully last) time in her life, Sasha wet the bed. So, the unlikely became the immediate. I carved out time to head to the laundromat... not only to wash the comforter in a large capacity washer, but to dry sheets, et al, since the dryer vent needs to be replaced before I can run my dryer.

This incident also necessitated a bath for Sasha, so I bathed the other two while I was at it. And, since bathing Sis Sue is much like bathing a cat, I had to jump in the shower afterward.

But, last night I crawled into a wonderfully fresh bed surrounded by sweet-smelling critters. And slept like a log. A good and totally unanticipated ending to my day.

I wonder how often God insinuates "inconvenient" events into our lives just because He wants to give us that good ending.

Awesome

2009-06-11T23:59:00.001-07:00

My brother believes that awesome is a word whose powerful meaning should be reserved to describe God. In his mind, only God measures up to that descriptor. Ever since he shared that idea with me, I have been reluctant to endorse the contemporary use of the word. It seems trite somehow.

I just viewed a video that I'd like to share with you. It is from a website called Crazy Love.* Once you're there, click on videos from the left menu and choose The Awe Factor of God.

Our God is an awesome God.

*Shared via AddThis.

The End of a Remarkable Journey

2009-05-25T17:24:00.000-07:00

What a week it has been. Beautiful Harbour Island, meeting new family, launching a couple into a new life together, playing with an engaging 7.5 month old. Hard to see it end.

The island seemed as sad to see us go as we were reluctant to let go of a wonderful week in "paradise." I've never seen what could be described as torrential rains before, but we experienced them along with crashing thunder and a lightening strike to our house, which is located on the rise above the beach. It poured. And poured. Enough to spout from the gutters.

I was glad that Reggie was coming in his taxi to take us to the dock instead of relying on a caravan of golf carts. I didn't want to start out this journey soaked to the skin.

We had an amazingly smooth ride across the bay to Eleuthera on the water taxi. I was also thankful for the full canopy, which kept us relatively dry. After we were loaded in the taxi at Eleuthera, our driver got in a spirited argument over who was there first and deserved to take us to the airport... a six-passenger fare is nothing to take lightly.

We arrived at the airport to find everyone who had planned to leave earlier in the day waiting for the airport to reopen and resume service. We almost had our first wedding party reunion. I was glad Ryan and Anna had left the day before and weren't caught with us. Anna's grandmother, who bought the family house on Harbour Island, told me she had spent the entire day there before without ever getting off the ground.

As is common during these storms, the lights flickered more than once, and a generator could be heard coming to life before they came on again.

Ours was the second plane out, delayed more than a couple of hours by the bad weather. It was good to be airborne, but I read the safety instructions twice since I was the only one sitting at the exit window over the wing of the plane.

The aquamarine that you see in this photo is the ocean, and the darker images are on the sea floor (clouds are white).

Sleeping is the best choice on this flight, and Grandma Weber and Carson were the only ones who crashed.

We arrived in Ft. Lauderdale just minutes before our connecting flight to Houston was scheduled to leave, but it was also delayed. Terry was just thankful to have landed and be heading toward customs. We were all glad it wasn't raining out on the tarmac. The Weber clan barely made that Houston connection, the last flight out. We flew south around some storms in the Gulf, but had time to eat together in Houston before splitting up for our Seattle and Portland flights.

I actually got into PDX half an hour early. We left Houston about 15 minutes early and evidently made up more time in flight. I was surprised since we taxied so long on the ground, I thought we were driving part of the way.

It was a long day. Over 21 hours after I got up in the Bahamas, I was home in Vancouver. Amazing that it can even be done in a day.

All in all, it is very good to be home.

You can see more pictures of the trip here.

Wedding Celebration

2009-05-25T10:04:00.000-07:00

The event we have anticipated for months went off with very few hitches. My nephew Ryan married his soul-mate Anna in the Bahamas on the 22nd of this month, with eight adults and one infant from his family in attendance.

The weather on Harbour Island was "iffy" all week - to say the least, and the decision to hold the ceremony on the beach was made at the last possible moment. The photos I took can be viewed here. The reception was marred only by the sunburn inadvertantly acquired by various guests earlier in the day. Most notably, the best man's toast speech was cut short because of his discomfort, but was still remarkable.

In the days preceding the wedding, we spent time getting to know Anna's family at Farcliff and being immersed in family traditions: Dinner Tuesday night, sitting at a table with Anna and Ryan, her parents, sister and brother-in-law. A native dinner in the courtyard the next night, after which Anna's father led a hootenanny from two large volumes of songs collected over the years.

The next afternoon's event was a rousing beach volleyball game on the beach below Farcliff. I was given the honor of holding the game ball by Anna's father, Scott, for having scored 14 consecutive points on serve. We're wearing our "official" Anna and Ryan wedding T's and windblown hair-dos.

That evening, the rehearsal dinner was hosted at Landfall, an estate further down the beach rented by a contingent of Anna's family. Cheeseburgers and Conch salad!

Don't ask me to recall everyone's name, but I met a lot of really, really nice folks. This family will compete with the English Clan on almost every level.

We saw the newlyweds off at the government dock the day after the wedding. We know where the honeymoon is, but we're not telling... not that you're likely to be in the Turks and Caicos this week. In case you don't recognize this vessel, it is a water taxi, otherwise indistinguishable from the water craft that populate the Columbia River on any given day.

Paradise Found

2009-05-20T04:48:00.001-07:00

We finally arrived in the Bahamas after a two-hour flight delay. For the second time this trip, our plane was decommissioned because of maintenance problems, and we had to wait for another. The plane was a small Gulfstream, with one seat on each side of the aisle. Lynn and I had a front row seat for watching the pilot in the cockpit.

From Eleuthera, we took a water taxi. I'm not sure what comes to your mind, but this wasn't what I had envisioned. Here's me next to a bag of onions in the back of a very ordinary runabout.

We seem to have brought good weather with us. After settling in at "Sitting Pretty," where we posed for a family picture on the deck, we had a great time "meeting the parents" for dinner at "Farcliff," a house the Lowes have owned for 26 years.

Roosters roam freely over the island, and a very persistent one served as my alarm clock this morning... much earlier than my body was ready to be up and about. But, I'm told "island time" is very relaxed, so I'm sure there will be time for a nap later today.

Traveling Across Country

2009-05-18T20:50:00.000-07:00

The day began with the alarm going off at 3 AM for the trip across the country... from the NW to the tip of Florida. It ended over 14 hours later. Along the way, I had a smooth trip into Houston, where I had time to walk for 40 minutes after eating lunch at Bubba's. (Where else would you eat in Texas?) The airport has a space exhibit in honor of NASA's 5oth anniversary; along with amazing space pictures, my favorite was a full-size model of the Mars rover.

I then met up with the rest of my family and fed Carson strained carrots while everyone else had lunch. Carson's penchant for sucking on two fingers of his left hand, even while eating, gave new meaning to carrots as finger food.

We boarded the jet for the next leg of our journey and were promptly "deplaned" because of some maintenance problem. Less than an hour later, we were underway again. But we were in a holding pattern for quite awhile before we were allowed to land in Ft. Lauderdale.

We felt right at home because it was pouring down rain. Did I mention that it was sunny and 80 degrees in the NW today? Soaked to the skin on the first day of this adventure. I wonder what tomorrow will bring...

Kristi Needs

2009-05-14T12:09:00.000-07:00

Thanks, Patty, for a fun exercise this morning. Googling "Kristi needs" garnered some amazingly accurate results. It seems that Kristi needs:

A schedule. Kristi needs to know exactly what time she is to be doing something and exactly how to do it. Not really. I'm quite resourceful.
A new hair color. What, you don't like the silver highlights?
To go to Home Depot and buy a filter for the exhaust fan over her stove. Honestly, I just put in a new fan! Is it dirty already?
HELP. Don't we all.
Bread. Always, because I have to bake my own. Then, again, there's the beatnik $$$.
A boyfriend. Most of my life.
To be patient. Refer back to number 6!
Some sleep. Hmmmmmmmm.
Our support and prayers. Now more than ever.
Numbers. Mostly more numbers in my bank account. See number 9.

Happy Anniversary

2009-05-08T12:07:00.000-07:00

It has been a year since the day I was called into the CEO's office and laid off "because we don't need you." A year of searching for another full-time position. A year of unprecedented illness and healing. A year of examination and growing. A year of expectation. A year to be thankful that God is mindful of me.

Look Who's On Facebook

2009-04-10T09:31:00.000-07:00

It had to happen sooner or later. It appears that God is now on " facebook. " At least there is a profile page with his name on it, where facebook users can sign on as fans and leave messages or have discussions with each other that God will no doubt monitor.

It is a sign of our techno times that God has been given a URL. Historically, we have appeared to house God in church buildings, cathedrals, and synagogues. But, they, too, were just meeting places to which people were called to acknowledge God in the company of like-minded souls. God "tabernacled" with his people throughout history in various ways, but his Son's coming was not timed to utilize the technological innovations of the info age.

The God of the universe, whose presence fills and sustains all creation, has specified only one dwelling place of choice in all of the earth... it is the heart of the believer who invites His indwelling by acknowledging God's gift of his Son and all that that implies. There is no i Pod application for that.

Much of the world will spend this weekend rejoicing in the empty tomb. I hope you are one whose heart is filled with the presence of God and the promise of eternal redemption.

You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
Since we have now been justified by his blood, how much more shall we be saved from God's wrath through him! For if, when we were God's enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life! Not only is this so, but we also rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation. Romans 5:6-11

A Day At A Time

2009-03-08T15:10:00.000-07:00

What would you do if someone told you the next 10 months would be yours to pretty much do with as you pleased? An extended vacation of sorts. A mini-retirement. Ideas would come crowding into your mind if you're anything like me. The possibilities would seem endless. And exciting.

But, if that time came dribbling a day at a time, with the next day or two that of expectant change, what would you do with just that day or two?

Perspective changes everything.

Looking back, I could've written my memoirs, researched and written a book of substance, remodeled the front room or Mom's place, redesigned the yard. Any number of things. Who knew that the days would stretch into months?

Teach us to number our days aright,
that we may gain a heart of wisdom.
....................................Ps 90:12

Winter Blues

2009-02-19T09:00:00.000-08:00

My head hurts. My face hurts. My eyes hurt. My ears ache. My throat is sore. My chest hurts. With each breath, a whistle wheeze echos in the ear that I lay against the pillow. Severe abdominal cramps send me tottering unsteadily to the bathroom with agonizing frequency. Every muscle in my body seems to ache.

I'm wearing sweats, a down vest, a fleece zip hoodie, and two pairs of socks. I lay on the couch under 2 throws, freezing, while my temperature creeps above 101 degrees. The dogs love it when I am sick. I am "momma" bed, and they each find a place to snuggle on me. Tonight I am too hot for them, and they find other places to be.

I am in and out of awareness with vivid, feverish dreams. One in which someone is tapping on the window from outside trying to rouse me while the dogs protest the intrusion. I don't acknowledge them. Long after bedtime, I rouse enough to secure the house and go to bed.

I missed my flu shot this year for the first time in decades. I hope it isn't too long before my body assembles the templates for antibodies to fight this bug. Maybe they will come in handy next year.

Tagged for 5 Things

2009-01-30T12:28:00.000-08:00

Betty tagged me to produce my lists, so here goes:

5 Things I Was Doing 10 Years Ago (As near as I can remember)
1. Breathing in.
2. Breathing out.
3. Eating.
4. Um... well, you know...
5. Reading.

5 Things I Want to do in 2009 (Better idea)
1. Find the perfect job... er, a good full-time job.
2. Spend more time with family and friends.
3. Advance the NW chapter of AMWA as president.
4. Keep on decluttering life and home.
5. Finish remodel projects.

5 Things On My To-Do List Today
1. Finish the brochure for the AMWA-NW's Symposium.
2. Go to the grocery store... finally.
3. Do on-line job search.
4. Make appointments for me and dog-children.
5. Sweep debris off the patio.

5 Snacks I Like
1. Popcorn.
2. Tootsie Roll Pops.
3. Cheese, summer sausage, rice crackers, and grapes.
4. Jelly Bellys.
5. Corn chips and salsa.

5 Things I Would Do If I Were A Millionaire
1. Retire!
2. Retire all my debts.
3. Buy a beach house.
4. Buy a house with a garden patch.
5. Set up a trust for things I would like to support.

5 Places I Have Lived (For Various Lengths Of Time)
1. Guymon, Oklahoma (6 years)
2. Corvallis, Oregon (6 and 3 years)
3. Weiser, Idaho (1 summer)
4. Los Angeles, California (8 months)
5. Vancouver, Washington (31 years)

5 Jobs I Have Had
1. Technical Writer.
2. Laboratory Director.
3. Financial Services Regional Manager.
4. College Biology Instructor.
5. Addressograph techi for Montgomery Ward credit office.

5 People I Tag (to post a "5 Things . . . " list on their blog)
Put your name right here: ___________.

Catching Up on Christmas

2009-01-15T11:21:00.000-08:00

It's hard to believe that I haven't posted on this blog for almost a month. I joined Facebook in the middle of winter hunkering, so my internet interests are stretching time resources.

Christmas did indeed turn out to be a white dream; my front-yard Douglas Fir looked like a giant flocked Christmas tree. The week set weather records for our area. I enjoyed the beauty of the snow, if not the enforced isolation. I got out Christmas eve to join my family in Seattle. The drive was like a blast from the past with the lightest freeway traffic I've experienced in decades. My stay was extended by a day because the melting snow made climbing the hill out of my brother's neighborhood an impossibility, although it was fun watching many locals try. The extra 5 inches of snow we got over Christmas day didn't help.

Family is one of the highlights of Christmas. This year the brightest spot was spending time with the newest addition to the family. I babysat Carson the day after Christmas while mom went bargain shopping. I got the best deal of the day. See if you don't agree. It was an all-consuming job, what with being required to hold him nonstop; but, hey, someone had to do it.

It is fun to examine babies and look for family characteristics. Carson is a good mix of mom and dad's DNA. Overall he reminds me of his mom when she was an infant, but his mouth resembles his dad's. His expressions reflect both parents. But, Carson holds his hands like us... his mom and me, and his great great great grandmother Lib!

If you have trouble understanding why a holiday can be structured around the birth of a baby, you've never had a new little one to play with in December. Carson will have a great future if how much he is loved is any predictor. But, the significance of a baby Jesus is how much God loves us, and that gives all of us a forever future.

Dreaming of a White Christmas

2008-12-19T06:49:00.000-08:00

Winter has finally come to this part of the country. As much as I enjoyed our prolonged Indian Summer, I was invigorated by the sunny, brisk cold that followed. Now we're getting a rare smattering of snow, with promises of more to come. Three snow storms in less than a week. Gotta love this "global warming!"

Most of my Holiday social events were scheduled this week. And, just like the gal's white board calendar gets "opened up" when the guy in the cranberry bog spills juice that washes away Wednesday's notations, the storm fronts are erasing my holiday schedule day by day. I don't know if the white stuff will stick around for Christmas, but one can hope. After all, 'tis the season.

All of you who are looking out your window in hopes of seeing more snow and dreaming of a White Christmas have soul-mates here. I hope that all of your Christmas wishes come true! God bless us every one.

Louisville

2008-12-03T14:00:00.000-08:00

You just thought I was never going to post another entry in my blog. You weren't alone. Let me catch up from October...

The National AMWA Conference was in Louisville this year. It was, by far, the best one I've attended. Maybe that was because I had fewer sessions and more time to network. Not to mention that the amazing sky bridges of the Galt House made it so convenient to leave jackets, et al, in my room.

That's not to say that I didn't go outside. Walking is my favorite sightseeing mode, and I ventured out more than once. The Ohio River was less than a block away from our venue, replete with paddle-wheel boats and a floating visitor's center that used to be a rescue vessel. The riverfront was a great place to shake off the lethargy of too much sitting.

Of course, a three-hour time difference made fewer scheduled sessions a wise choice. Listening to someone lecture at my body clock's 6 AM is less than beneficial. Almost as much fun as trying to go to sleep at a corresponding 7 PM. I found that an afternoon power nap helped me manage the time change.

Louisville has a rich and varied history. Home to Ali, "The Greatest," and Colonel Sanders, the city boasts tributes to both. The museum honoring Ali was just across the hotel plaza.

The visitor's center had a life-size wax figure of the Colonel and a pictorial history of his life. I had forgotten that he was past retirement age when he launched the Kentucky Fried Chicken venture. We may have that in common...

The most striking impression I had of this city was that it seemed happily stuck in a by-gone era. The new housing developments visible from the plane window had large lots. The music, even at the local Starbucks, was of an earlier time. Lyrics you could actually understand and lots of jazz.

Speaking of Starbucks, the beverage for which Louisville is most famous isn't coffee (a sad commentary that had this Northwesterner searching for the nearest franchise at the first opportunity). Bourbon-related gifts were everywhere. And our welcome reception featured mint julips —without the stately front porch and lazy summer day. That, along with a tour of Churchill Downs, will have to wait for next time.

Meeting in Person

2008-10-20T22:01:00.001-07:00

This weekend I got to meet and hold two-week old Carson, who loves to snuggle. He is a sweet baby, except, of course, when he is hungry and fussy. At 6-11, he is not quite up to his birth weight of 6-15, but close. All of us went on the first walk around the neighborhood with Carson in his stroller. He stayed awake the whole trip.

Bella, who was an "only dog" until Carson arrived, has not quite adjusted to his prominent place in the heirarchy. Until recently, she was the focus of visitors' attention. Bella was happiest near the end of my visit when I picked her up and held her.

Mom and Dad are doing great with Carson. He's a lucky little guy, surrounded by much love and attention.

I well remember what it felt like to become the "matriarch" of the family when the last generation of our family passed on. It has its advantages. Ushering in a new generation is one of them.

Best Buds

2008-10-14T14:01:00.001-07:00

Somehow I knew these two would hit it off. Carson and Bella have a great future together!

What A Difference A Week Makes

2008-10-13T22:53:00.001-07:00

Carson seemed to enjoy his Mommy's birthday today. At least he was awake for the party.

He's been sunbathing under bili lights this week and hasn't regained his birth weight yet, but he's close.

I'm thinking he looks good in a hoodie, but I am a bit biased.

Carson's Arrival

2008-10-05T13:23:00.000-07:00

Carson James Kelly, my great-nephew, made his entry into this world Friday night, October 3, at 11:55 PM, allowing his mother to almost finish a week of school teaching. He came early according to all predictions, perhaps not wanting to wait until his mother had her next birthday. This handsome young man weighed in at 6 lbs, 14 oz, and measured 20.5 inches long.

Welcome to the family, Carson! Can't wait to see you in person!

A Blessed Day

2008-09-25T19:19:00.000-07:00

I came home this afternoon to find a voice mail commendation from a stranger for today's “well-written” letter to the editor. His parting words were “God bless you.” God does. This phone message was one of those ways.

The edited letter follows:

Character defines women

Many columnists and so-called feminists focus on a woman’s “right to choose” abortion as being singularly important. But, a woman’s stand on abortion rights does not define her life. Character does.

Michelle Obama has a knack for torpedoing her image as a prospective First Lady reminiscent of Theresa Heinz in the last election cycle. Michelle made headlines with her ill-advised comments at a public appearance.

It does not matter what Michelle thinks about a woman’s “right to choose.” She has proved herself incapable of choosing words wisely or acting prudently.

Contrast that with the graciousness of an accomplished Cindy McCain, and there is “no contest.”

Oh, and did I mention that “cute” Sarah Palin, who has been in the public eye more than a decade and earned a popularity rating of over 80% as Governor of Alaska?

I didn’t think the editors would print it, but they did. And it evidently blessed someone’s life, who blessed mine in return.

As It Turns Out

2008-09-01T16:36:00.000-07:00

Labor Day. Whatever this day is meant to be, it didn't turn out like many people planned. Thousands evacuated their homes along the Gulf Coast. The Republicans suspended their convention out of respect for the victims of Gustav. My big projects got put on hold for one reason or another.

So, I watched the progression of the news cycle throughout the day. Gustav waxing and waning. The trials of the political limelight. The ugliness of the left-wing bloggers followed by the Palin family's admissions. Record contributions to relief efforts. Very small polling bumps from all of last week's pomp.

Most noteworthy is that my neighbors' actions balanced each other out today. The scourge of the neighborhood unleashed their dogs on my yard to take care of their "business" again, and I registered a protest because I'm growing weary of their penchant for abusing and terrorizing the neighborhood (In return, I received a veiled threat to burn down my house). Another neighbor I don't even know (who delivers the paper) stopped by to offer to take my dead hot water heater to the dump. I'd planned to make one big haul after I tore out some paneling, but I accepted. What a nice gesture.

Whatever the rest of the week brings, I will remember that a stranger extended an unexpected kindness on this day.

Fifteen Seconds of Fame

2008-08-01T10:36:00.000-07:00

The old adage about fifteen minutes of fame, in my case, was only about fifteen seconds. That's the amount of time it took Bill O'Reilly to read my email on his national broadcast last night. Still, it was pretty cool to be 'featured' on the most-watched cable network show.

In case you missed the pithy comment, it was about reaction to the rapper whose song supporting Obama said some disgustingly demeaning things about Hillary, McCain, and Bush.

Bill,
It was Obama’s campaign that condemned the rap song by Ludacris, not Obama. Obama can continue to support the rapper, and later assert that this is not the Ludacris he knew. And that’s ludicrous.

Since 'every dog has his day,' you might try it. And, remember, "name and town, name and town, if you wish to opine... and no bloviating."

Bella Debut

2008-06-20T08:52:00.000-07:00

Meet Bella, a Shitsu-Bijon Frise mix puppy. She joined the household of my niece and her husband a few weeks ago. Bella will be joined sometime in October by their first child,
a boy. I suspect that they will become fast friends.

The Dogged Dogwood

2008-06-13T07:42:00.000-07:00

The view from my window as I work at my computer is a dogwood tree that has withstood the test of time. By rights this tree should not be alive, let alone looking so good.

Years ago my roommate's blue heeler mix was in the chewing stage of puppyhood when a wind storm filled the back yard with limbs. That the storm happened just before my father's death meant I had higher priorities than removing the limbs. Andy explored like any puppy his age and decided the limbs were the best chew toys ever. When the limbs disappeared from the yard, Andy went in search of living wood and chewed this young tree to a stump. It gave new meaning to "dogwood."

The tree recovered, growing into a nicely shaped tree, if a bit off-center at its base. Decades later, you'd never suspect it had survived such severe pruning.

A few years ago, falling limbs from another windstorm stripped it of most of its upper branches. This time I was sure it wasn't going to survive and do well. But in a couple of seasons it had so many little starts trying to branch back that I asked my bonsai expert friend to come over and see if he could shape it. He did, and today it looks very respectable.

This dogwood stands as a testimony to the resiliency of life. At times we may be reduced to a "stump" and our branches may not look so good, but with time we can stand tall. I'd like to think I'm as dogged in my determination to persevere as this dogwood tree.

What Do You Do?

2008-06-03T00:14:00.000-07:00

A close friend betrays a confidence. Not once, but twice. And lies to you about it. Both times.
Your spouse betrays your relationship, and you can't save your marriage.
An elder counsels you with platitudes and then falters when he must walk in your shoes.
You couldn't land a job if your life depended on it, and it does.
The folks in your support group believe the worst about you and tell others the same.

There are times in life when the things that help hold you together give way. When the people you count on aren't to be counted on. When the things that support you don't any longer. When what you believe in becomes implausible. What do you do when the fabric of your life frays?

The answers are not to be found in those whose failings match your own, but in the power and faithfulness of God.

Hope Does Not Disappoint Us

2008-05-20T07:22:00.000-07:00

This marks the second week since the company's owner made good on his threat to fire me. Except I got him to sign a letter to the effect that he was laying me off due to restructuring and cutbacks, ensuring my eligibility for unemployment benefits; more importantly, it ensured my good standing for future employment. He tried to make it about a nitpicking typo he searched for two weeks to find, because that is his way. He is a bully, a tyrant emboldened by the 6 or 7 zeros to the left of the decimal point of his net worth, who rules his workers with fear, harassment, and intimidation. The funny thing about bullies is that they back down when their bluff is called. And, this one crumpled completely, getting rattled enough to forget my name. His sideways grin told me he knew that I knew his game and wasn't going to let him get away with it. In the end, he acknowledged my value and admitted that he simply felt I wasn't needed.

I tell you that story only because my coworkers could not understand my attitude. I did not come out of that meeting beaten, which was their expectation. I told them that the owner was not in charge of my life, God was. Whatever lie ahead, God would take care of me.

It took me two days last week, including over four hours on hold, to cut through red tape to sign up for unemployment benefits that will roughly match 40% of my previous paycheck. No job materialized, and with summer-like weather in the forecast, I followed through with plans to spend the weekend at the beach. The ocean has always drawn me closer to God. I think it is the vastness of the horizon and the thundering power of the surf. I find it compelling to walk along the beach and talk with Him.

I met with a house church Sunday morning. The lesson was about bad things happening to good people. Most of the thoughts I had heard before, but God's word has a way of speaking anew.

"Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us." (Rom 5:1-5)

I was struck by the fact that I had reached the hope stage of that progression. Not just a hope that is confident of the life to come, but one that is secure in the todays and tomorrows of my life in Him. And I was thankful for the life experiences that had brought me that far, even though none were pleasant at the time. They helped to make me aware of God's loving presence.

I came home to find that an unexpected check had arrived in the mail while I was gone. It knocked my socks off. God is faithful. Hope does not disappoint us.

A Not-So-Subtle Reminder

2008-05-07T19:42:00.000-07:00

Late today I learned that I was to have been fired last Friday, except I was out of town and not at my desk. Why that has not yet happened, I do not know.

It appears that the owner of the company where I am employed as a technical writer learned how much I make, which is far more than he thinks anyone should earn. Top dollar for him comes from his distant past, which is quite a ways back when you consider that he is 84. Recently, he had to take the reins of the company; he ran off his GM by cutting his salary in half. That his GM was his son lends a whole 'nother dimension to the story, but I digress.

Tonight I am thankful that the day began with a longer than usual quiet time, and continued with a persistent awareness of God's presence. The day has been a not-so-subtle reminder that my life and livelihood depend upon God's care— every day, not just in the face of a threat like losing my job. Those times just pull the curtain back and reveal the source of the power that sustains the universe and orders my life and yours... minute by minute. God knew what my day would bring this morning when I talked with Him.

And, I'm certain He has tomorrow figured out, as well.

First and Lasting Impressions

2008-02-09T21:36:00.000-08:00

Gruff, distant, unkempt... would likely be your initial impression of Don. And, it might be your lasting impression if you failed to catch the glimmer in his kind eyes that drew you to the heart of the man.

Don could sit in the midst of conversation without saying a word, sometimes listening to his music with headphones. But he made friends with every waitress in the restaurants he frequented. He knew them all by name, and they greeted him with affection each time he came in. And when he was in the mood to talk, sometimes only after he knew you well, it was worth the wait.

Don carried treats for kids and critters alike. He would reach in his pocket for candy to offer a child (from 1 to 92). Squirrels, birds, and other creatures in his backyard— and on any street he regularly walked— became accustomed to seeds, shelled peanuts, and other tasty morsels strewn their way.

Don's eyes lit up most in response to his wife Jeanne. Vivacious, talkative, loving, and gentle, she was the perfect match for him. And she loved him dearly. Their shared laughter could evoke a smile from anyone within earshot. They had the comfortable companionship and commitment that sustains long marriages.

If you only looked on the outside, you'd miss the measure of this or any man. God does not look upon us as the dust he clutched from the earth to breathe into life. He sees the inward man. It is the part of us that is made in His image and grows to be more like Him when God's Spirit is given reign. The lasting impression we will carry of Don comes from the hand of God.

Don valued the things most of us overlook or take for granted.

Don passed from this life yesterday afternoon. But, the story won't end there. Because Don's heart belonged first and foremost to God, and his soul is in God's keeping, where it will be safe for all eternity.

A Red Letter Day

2007-11-08T18:41:00.000-08:00

Each morning as I ride public transportation to work, I find it interesting to see how people occupy their time on MAX. Most people read or work puzzles. A few annoy everyone else with nonstop cell phone conversations. Some nap. By week's end, that number grows.

One day this week I noticed a young man reading his Bible. Not merely observing a cursory glance through a daily devotional book with a required scripture reading, he was engrossed all the way from the Gateway Transit Center to one of the last downtown stops. As he stowed his large Bible in his backpack and got up for his stop, I told him I liked the way he started his day. He smiled and said it helped him keep perspective. As if in secret code, he added, "Red letters in the morning give the day perspective." Yes, the words of Jesus, written in red in many translations, give perspective to life. Making that a daily compass adjustment is a wise choice.

For this young man, the commitment required carrying the weight of his Bible with him for his day. Not a cross, certainly, but burden enough to provide its own reminder of the gravity of the decision. Making the time to listen to the words of Jesus costs something, because God does not look at our work days with the eyes of commerce and ambition or measure our success by the prestige of our titles or the size of our pay checks.

I hope you had a red-letter day. If you didn't, I hope you'll choose to make tomorrow a red-letter day!

The Greatest of These is Love

2007-09-23T16:57:00.000-07:00

This week I listened to a successful Christian author speak about what was most important. It was not her success as a writer. She most wanted to be remembered for being like her dad. Not that she resembled him in looks, but that she had learned to love as he had loved. And her dad had taught her to love like God loves.

As I listened, I was touched by her words. I sat next to two Christian friends, whose love for me had been evident only moments before, in a place where I come to worship God each week. My thoughts were drawn to my heavenly Father, whose single-word description is love.

Later, I read this passage with new understanding:
For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom his whole family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge -- that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

Ephesians 3:14-21

It struck me that the most powerful force at work in our lives as Christians is Godly love. Grasping the enormity of Christ's love and experiencing it is the beginning of being filled to the measure of the fullness of a God whose very nature is love. God's spirit at work in our inner being is the comforting presence of God's love in us, at work in us. The one who is able to do the unfathomable accomplished his greatest work out of his love for us. For God so loved... is the message of hope that we have experienced and bring to our world.

What am I Worth?

2007-08-18T07:00:00.000-07:00

In the past few weeks, I've been shown by employers I'm worth $20, $25, $32, and $37 an hour, either because they paid or offered me that wage. I've also been told by my peers that all of those figures are too low, that I should accept no less than $55, and deserve up to $70, an hour for my writing skills and the strong background I bring to them. Who's right?

Actually, my worth is not determined by the marketplace. Long before I was born, long before any employer considered my worth, God decided I was worth the life of his one and only Son. Even as I struggle to grasp the magnitude of that, I accept that the One who created me knows my true value.

Taking The Road Less Crowded

2007-08-11T19:12:00.000-07:00

I drove to work yesterday instead of taking MAX. But, what is an easy 40-minute drive at 6 AM is a two-hour nightmare any afternoon, longer on Friday: I-5 jammed from Wilsonville to to the Interstate Bridge, Hwy 26 creeping from before Sylvan to I-405. I-84 slowed from Lloyd's Center out to I-205. As I listened to the traffic report on this gorgeous afternoon, I began to formulate an idea. Let's see, two plus hours home or less than two hours to the coast. No contest. Go West.

A few minutes this side of 5 PM, I was sitting at a table on Mo's patio at Tolovani with a cup of decaf coffee and a view of Haystack Rock. After a leisurely meal of grilled salmon topped off with Marion berry cobbler, I walked the beach.

Kids making sandcastles, adults sculpting a sand crocodile, dogs chasing balls and each other, couples snuggling, Frisbee players choosing up sides, low-riding bicyclers scurrying like crabs along the water's edge, kites soaring and diving in the wind, horseback riders threading their way through people and pets. Sure beats aggressive drivers trying to bully their way home in hopelessly snarled traffic.

With the sun overhead, the ocean at my feet, and a comfortable breeze at my side, I tried out the folding quad chair I'd gotten as a going-away present. I even tried out my new Phillip Margolin paperback. Ahhhhh... Calling a friend just made them envious.

I watched the ocean— and let it work its endless magic on me— until the sun dropped below the horizon, and then I headed home. I got to Hillsboro in time to see the air show’s fireworks' display and just ahead of the spectator traffic.

How long did it take me to get home Friday night? Much, much longer than two hours, but who's counting?

A feeling of accomplishment

2007-07-22T20:02:00.000-07:00

Five weeks on the new job and I've finished the first draft of my initial project. I'm revising the operator's manual for a mid-line Doppler unit, which will hopefully provide a template for models above and below it.

It feels good to have completed this task. My previous jobs involved measurable results every few minutes, and a whopping tally at the end of the day in terms of patients processed and tests reported. While I've known each day that I have made progress, this is the first time I've been able to show results. By midweek, I hope to have it ready to submit for review. Then, we'll see just how well I'm doing in this new career.

On the job

2007-06-27T18:20:00.000-07:00

I'm in the middle of my second week as a full-time writer. I've been updating procedures in operations and biotech manuals, becoming used to my office-mates, and learning the rich history and eclectic culture of this family business. We had an audit today, so things will settle down with fewer rush assignments. My long-term assignment is to standardize all of the manuals with a user-friendly format. I learned that I was chosen for this position, in part, because of my experience as a "user" running instrumentation and often rewriting the manufacturer's instructions. Standardizing the manuals will also make translation for internatonal markets easier.

My boss is easy to be around. He entertains me daily with stories about this place and the people who work here. His humor extends to the adventure of dealing with his father, 100 years old and in failing health. His dad was admitted to the hospital last weekend. He learned today that his dad is likely dying, and the stress showed for the first time. I hope that this stage goes as easily for the family as possible.

The commute is the only drawback. Next week I'm going to venture out on Max and the bus line. The time, at least on paper, is about the same as I'm spending in my van. I expect it to be less stressful and more productive.

My desk chair arrived today, so my desk can't be far behind. That will give me a place to store my things and a comfortable place to sit for breaks. I'm also getting a 22" flat panel monitor, along with new software, so I'm definitely the new kid on the block. I will soon be attending training classes to learn the new software programs.

I'm so thankful to be spending my days not only doing something I enjoy, but in a less-stressful environment than I've been in for the past few years. God has been very good to me.

Real Writer

2007-06-04T08:52:00.000-07:00

Two weeks from now I'll be sitting at a company computer writing documentation for a line of medical diagnostic devices. This represents both the achievement of a life-long dream and the beginning of a new adventure in learning. I'm so excited!

Snafu or Serendipity?

2007-05-07T09:25:00.000-07:00

I serve on the Executive Committee of the Northwest chapter of the American Medical Writers Association. We spent most of a year tweaking plans for the AMWA-NW Symposium, held each year at the beautiful Talaris Conference Center in Seattle's university district. As Treasurer, I dealt with the logistics of securing space, estimating head-count, and providing our speakers with needed support, including computer peripherals. There will always be a snafu or two, no matter how meticulous the preparation, but one was particularly ironic. A presenter spent the first half of the session trying to get her computer to interface with the projection unit we had provided. We secured another projector from Talaris with no better outcome. The name of the workshop? "Making Effective Presentations." Luckily, the presenter was finally able to work the problem out, noting that it might be wise to bring your own presentation equipment.

On the lighter side, the Executive Committee hosts a dinner at a nice restaurant for our guest speakers. We arrived at our destination on time and were the first of three large groups to be seated. Although we ordered first, we were the last group to be served. We enjoyed our time, reminiscent of a three-hour dinner stint on a cruise ship without the many courses. The restaurant manager was so apologetic that he laced our table with free desserts. We finished our evening sampling famous desserts with names as delightful as as they were delicious.

Speaking Out

2007-04-30T08:08:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I learned that a letter I wrote to the editor of our local newspaper was published. I didn't think it would be, because my views are decidedly politically incorrect. This isn't the strongest view I've ever held, but it stands in stark contrast to most of what our local and national leadership had to say:

In the aftermath of the 32- victim shooting binge at Virginia Tech, cries are mounting to increase the scope of gun control laws. I question whether any gun restriction will keep a driven person from acquiring a gun. No open campus or business complex can provide enough security to keep everyone completely safe. My workplace cannot. Can yours? That Virginia Tech was a gun-free zone disarmed everyone except the killer.

One of the kindest, gentlest people I know is a grade-school teacher and nanny. She is an encouragement to everyone she meets, young and old. In three decades of friendship, I have never known her to offend anyone. It may come as a surprise that she has a concealed weapons permit, is well-trained in gun handling, and carries a revolver. Her experience of being threatened by violence years ago persuaded her to arm herself for protection. She is a threat to no one except those who would threaten harm, but I do not doubt that she would defend herself effectively.

If I were to find myself in such a threatening situation, I would rather be next to my friend— or someone like her— than in a gun-free zone.

The right time for writing

2007-04-27T12:21:00.000-07:00

Today I applied for a writing gig I'd really like to have. So, I thought I might actually get this blog up and running. After decades of writing as a fulfilling sideline, I have found that medical writing fits me like a glove. Now that I truly know what I'd like to be when I grow up (not that God is finished with me yet), I'd like to make my living by being fully engaged in writing. Stay tuned, good news may be on the horizon.