Mary's Heartbeats

I'm on my way to visit Mom Ruth this Sunday afternoon.  It's an activity I have done with consistency over this past year.  Since she has become more frail and requires the care of twenty four hour nursing supervision, I have made a point to be there every Sunday.  Now, she readily looks forward to Sunday, because "Mary is coming to see me."  But this is a special day as we are going to celebrate her 95th birthday.  She is surprised as we all are that she is still here to celebrate this day with us.  After all, who would think that a woman who survived treatment for TB in a sanatorium, many years ago, and now deals with dementia, would still be living?  Even she asks that question, as she often tells me that she prays "for Jesus take her home," and often feels that "she is dying right now." Yes, her thoughts get muddled at times, as she tries to still understand God's love for her in spite of her doubts and "not being good enough." ...

Unbelievable!  I stared at the stick of a plant both my eggplant and pepper had become.  What in the world is making a night time meal of their leaves?  I am completely baffled as I search in vain to catch the culprit.  It does not seem to be the roaming possum or even the occasional visiting squirrel, and I know for certain there are no rabbits in our neighborhood.  The only evidence are little circular chomp bites, but can something that small have such a veracious appetite? Is it a worm, a grasshopper or some invisible insect, completely dressed in camouflage?  I feel robbed of my summer produce, even though it appears to have left the vegetable itself for me to have.  Outta words, I decide to pluck up the remnants later . . .  I usually have something to say.  Most times, I have find it necessary to speak, to comment, to intervene, to say something.  But not now, I am as naked as my leafless plants.  I'm outta words. ...

Seriously!  Is this really happening?  The carton was oddly warm, as I poured creamer into my morning coffee.  I peered inside the refrigerator and paused, only to find that most things I inspected were of that same lukewarm cold.  Oh great, I thought, our refrigerator is dying.  But it isn't that old, in fact, I think it was purchased within the past five years.  Could it really be on its last leg? Optimistically hopeful, I tried to open all the vents to generate any cold air inside.  The motor still working, the freezer cold, but the inevitable was presented right in front of me.  Our refrigerator was burning out. . .  Plan B.  I had just gone to the grocery store the night before, so I had limited time for a temporary plan to preserve as much as I could.  Thank goodness, at least the freezer compartment was acting like the  refrigerator so I could put in there as many items as possible that would fit.  I topped off ...

Breathing in the fragrance, I felt a rush of "dejavu".  I was immediately in the backyard garden of our German neighbors, the Gettmans.  Tall rows of the most beautiful big face roses you could ever imagine filled their fenced in yard.  As a five year old, I often accepted the invitation from Mrs. Gettman to come on over and be with her in the garden.  Ready with a smile and a hug for me, we took our time meandering through the bushes, she never hurried me up.  We would smell the various fragrances of the blossoms, and she would tell me the specific name of each. My favorite was the one that started out with a pinkish bud and then unfolded with rosy yellow, white leaves.  Its name is Peace, and to me, a picture of Mrs. Gettman.  But even in all its beauty, the rose still remains as imprisoned splendor.  .  . I saw his name on my schedule, initially thinking that it was familiar, but not fully recalling anything specific.  Hearing my ...

I pedaled up the hill, seeming to have more energy than what I thought I had.  Covered with sweat, I also tasted tears running down my face.  Confession is good for the soul, and I found my heart being purged that morning.  How could I have been so delusional?  A delusion is a false view of reality.  The reality of living as a follower after Jesus is not the same as following after the Christian religion or church.  Although I've known that, I find that my thinking has often subtly been deluded.  I have read certain passages in the Bible with my own self serving interpretation.  But you can't do that as easily with the stories that Jesus told. I don't know where the plant came from, but it seems to be thriving right beside my blueberry bush.  It's hardy and has small white blossoms on it, in fact it seems to be outgrowing the blueberry.  Once its dainty foliage is gone, there are small tiny green balls.  Is it a vegetable or jus...

Finally, after so many opportunities of almost wins and forever seeming to choke when the pressure to win was there, Phil Mickelson did it all today at the British Open.  Finally, his game came together with the right shots, the perfect putts, and the right mindset.  At last, my golf guy won! I like Phil as a player and all around good guy.  He seems to stay out of the spotlight of controversy.  Yes, he wears his heart and emotions on his sleeve, as you know when he's disappointed with a flop he made or totally surprised with how good a shot was placed.  He doesn't shun his fans, he actually greets and talks with them.  He comes across genuinely humble and respectful.  Of course I could be wrong, but it seems that he is a devoted Dad to his girls and husband to his wife who has had to battle breast cancer.   Perhaps, my fondness for him comes from his example of moderation and consistency.  Most of his golf career he has had to p...

I had great plans for the weekend, looking forward to spending all day at the beach.  I couldn't wait to feel the sand in my toes, taste the salty breeze and brace myself for the cold but refreshing ocean waves.  But my plans didn't work out, at least not for this weekend.  I have had those kind of days, making plans but having them unfulfilled. One of which was trying to do the good thing of donating blood, only to arrive at the station and finding out that "everyone left, and they were shutting it all down."  But wait a second, I had an appointment?  Whatever . . .  I could have done my yoga class after all!  Then I was looking forward to dinner with my girlfriends, but one got sick unexpectedly and plans changed again.  Maybe that's why I felt discombobulated as I started out my week, maybe that's what fed into my sense of feeling blah and stuck in "the same old same old." I opened her letter with anticipation, expecting to read about her l...

I have become a fan of Amy Grant's latest album "How Mercy Looks From Here."  I think I have  memorized almost every song and frequently find myself throughout the day still singing the tunes.  The one song that first drew me in was "Better Not to Know."  I immediately related to her message, and at this time in my life, I understand, I get it.  I am a person who throughout most of my life focused on the end result, thinking that my joy and peace would arrive when "all was well."  Yet, in these past few years, I realize that I have missed the point of life, that actually the joy is in the present passage and independent of the outcome.  It's surprising that when you begin to live life as it presents and not try to manipulate or control it, there is peaceful contentment.  I find myself savoring the time spent with friends and family.  My heart is open to what will be, and maybe that is the adventure of life that I  was trying to creat...

"Salt and light do not make noise," our pastor quoted another comrade from the United Kingdom.  He had returned from a conference overseas and was sharing with us the encouragement he had received, especially from this one speaker who had made the statement, "and though he was 75 years old, he looked about 50 and acted as though he were 25!"  But that statement stuck with me throughout the day, and I have passed it on to others.  It was a reminder once again,  to just be. . . Salt and light do not make noise.  I don't need to be in the face of people, to verbally attack their values or their positions, or try to always push through my agenda.  I do live in a diverse world, made up of unique individuals and groups; I do not need to shun those different from me.  Maybe that is why Christianity has become offensive, because it has too much "noise pollution."  I think even the apostle Paul would agree as he wrote so long ago that "even if I speak ...

I guess it is about time to get back to writing.  Six months of being "absentia," now it's time to let my thoughts and fingers flow again.  But just like letting ground lay fallow for a season or so may actually improve the fertility and longevity of the field, I am hopeful that  my writing will produce a bounty of encouragement and joy to those few who choose to read the messages of my heart . . . I have found that the best things in life are the relationships we have with one another.  I am blessed to be a nurse, legally defined as a RN, but by true definition "one called to care."  Over the years, I have had the privilege of working along side some very special nurses.  As a nurse, I know that often we are myopic when it comes to our own needs, as we tend to focus on others put before us who seem to require much more care and concern.  Yet, it is such a blessing to actually be the one who receives the care and encouragement.  I have foun...

I  sat  cross-legged on my mat, watching others in their usual places, some in peculiar positions as we all anticipated the beginning of our yoga session.  Before we actually began, our teacher held a basket for us to pass around so that we could  "empty our ego into it."  Ego is that part of ourselves that wants to compete, outshine and out do others; the part of us that always is comparing and measuring us against the standard of others.  The definition of ego given is "edging God out."  Having the basket in my lap, I quickly became aware of how hard it is to let go of ego . . . even for a yoga session. But that was then, a few months ago.  Rest, solitude, and reflection has probably consumed me a bit more than I imagined.  Yet, I find myself enduring and persevering better than in the past.  Little by little, I am realizing the blessing  of letting go and moving forward.  As I have let my ego stay in its basket, I am mor...