Mary's Heartbeats

An old familiar story came to me the other day. It is about the child who sat in the dirt with a small shovel, bucket of water, and made small mud pies. Yet in the shadow behind him was a magnificent playground where there were many more children, all laughing and playing, running and scampering about. When the child was invited to join the others, he declined as he was unsure of what a playground really was and would rather just keep making mud pies. No amount of coaxing or persuasion changed his mind. Making mud pies was all he knew . . . Perhaps, one of my greatest fears when I become older and more frail is that I will want to stay playing in the mud. Change is always difficult, but mainly when we fight against it. We spend so much more energy in mustering defenses, and reasons to be against it, that we totally exhaust ourselves in being reasonable about situations. That will be the danger that I could face unless I practice the ability to listen, to accept my limitatio...

I had the privilege of hearing again the pioneer of the Nurse Practitioner movement, Loretta Ford. As always, she spoke with inspiration, wisdom, and wit. She reminded me that power, control, and money rule the world; that is the arena in which the world has always played. It's similar to the arena described by Daniel, a prophet of old. He records the big three as militarism, materialism, and religion, which are actually disguised today as power, money, and control. Those three issues often keep us from doing what is right. . . Too often I see that people do not want to give up power; we can talk of diversity, but when it comes to being truly sensitive and respectful of differences, we can do so to a point, as long as we don't lose our seat or place at the table. Of course, if we have money and all the stuff that it can buy (including friends) to back up our power, that always gives us a greater advantage, especially to threaten those who would dare take our place...

I couldn't seem to find any flowers that would express my regret. Even the orchids appeared a bit too old and the spring bouquets lacked freshness, so I guess my sympathy card would have to do. It would probably be alright, it did express what I wanted most to convey, my care and the comfort of a loving God. I walked into the dry cleaners, just like I do every Wednesday afternoon. She usually meets me at the door, but today she was back behind the rows of clothes. All I said was that I was so sorry and hugged her in my arms, and then we both just cried. I listened to her painful story of a son gone much too soon. Tears became our bond . . . I find that for some reason, I tend to cry much easier and more often now. The tears seem to be much closer to the surface of my life. They can flow with joy and happy times, as well as pensive and thoughtful days; they emerge with sentimental readings and movies, and they are there at times of sorrow. I've discovered that i...

It is interesting that health care reform is viewed as an impingement of our individual right and freedom. It seems to be such an infringement that certain states are suing the government and encouraging their political leaders to repeal this law. And yet I wonder, if people truly understand what they have already given up by the lifestyle they have chosen to pursue. . . According to the UC Berkeley Wellness Letter, April 2010, "Weight-wise, Americans are divided evenly: one-third are obese, one-third merely overweight, and one-third normal weight or underweight. If the trends from 1990-2005 continue, nearly half (45%) of us will be obese by 2020. . . 43% of US adults will be obese by 2018. Health care costs related to obesity would quadruple to $344 billion and account for 20% of total health-care spending." Also noted is that at least one third of American children are overweight or obese. Why aren't we up in arms about this silent, growing trend that brings...

"Health care is not a moral right for us, it is a privilege," he argued from the phone. Hmm, I wonder, if that is a worldview according to the One who shaped and formed us or is that the selfish will of man? Yesterday, was a day that perhaps will finally signal change, that may in fact bring care to those who have been without, and yet I hear such anger from those who may have to help. We didn't arrive to these complicated problems overnight, and truth be told, we are facing these issues because of our glut and greed. We are the nation of over-consumption, we evidence it in our gigantic homes, our great big cars, our hefty paychecks, and pork-size bellies. All of that has made us indifferent to the needs around us, and made us thirst for so much more; for us, of course. The great American way seems to be just look out for yourself . . . greed has such an insatiable appetite. . . But my world view is different. I read of God who lovingly created this world, cared ...

Written reminders are the blessing in life, especially when they are from the ones who are no longer with us. That is why I enjoy reading through my Daddio's books, and coming across the notes he had written in the margins, the phrases that he'd underline, or his red inked diagrams that he had sketched. Somehow, I feel that I am reading along with him. . . I especially enjoy those reminders that catch me off guard. Just like yesterday, when all I was doing was dusting the furniture in our bedroom and found again the little notebook scrap that was down inside a vase. "You're the best mom in the universe, I (heart shape) you," was all it said. It brought back instant memories of when my son brought me that special vase. He had proudly purchased it for me from a neighbor's garage sale. It brought me joy back then, but more so now. . . So there I was trying to straighten up our attic, going through some boxes, when I decided to finally look through...

I love Spring and the beauty of my garden. Just today, I enjoyed weeding among the princely snapdragons dressed in shades of white, yellow, orange and pink. The fragrant ground cover of purple and white dainty flowers are filling in between the irises and jonquils. The sweet pea seedlings are beginning to climb and wrap onto the white washed trellis. To my surprise, I discover a lovely lavender blossom way in back, growing amidst the stretched out fern and another one is found, hidden by the rocks. In front, I find a maroon colored snapdragon that must have grown from last year's seed and now it's full of buds. Spring is like a deep, deep sigh. . . all is well. All the days of darkness and storm have brought new growth and beauty. All of this was happening right before my eyes, and I was unaware. I went to put my gardening tools away, and there in total blackness in the shed were dirt-less bulbs that somehow had sprouted fresh green shoots. Could it be that growt...