Time Passages

Usually, I cannot remember my dreams. But when I woke up last night in the middle of a dream, I consciously replayed the videotape in my head and thought,"I've got to tell Rob about this--one of the weirdest and most non-sensical dreams I've ever had." The dream consisted of bits and pieces of wack-o actions and absurd words and those bits and pieces have haunted me throughout the day, putting me in a most reflective mood. People from my past--way past-- and places-- past and present-- intersected in this dream in ways that would make Spielberg envious.
But WHY? What do those people and those places have to do with my current status? Is the dream an escape mechanism, a sort of time passage to a more comfortable, secure era of my life?

Well I'm not the kind to live in the past
The years run too short and the days too fast
The things you lean on are the things that don't last
Well it's just now and then my line gets cast into these
Time passages
There's something back here that you left behind
Oh time passages
Buy me a ticket on the last train home tonight.

Hear the echoes and feel yourself starting to turn
Don't know why you should feel
That there's something to learn
It's just a game that you play. (Time Passages by Al Stewart)


Perhaps, the dream is trying to relay something about my life, now. Or, could it be preparing me for my future?
God of reality and God of dreams, You know all things. Help me to trust You. Thank-you for my past, my present, and my future.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your paths. Proverbs 3:5-6.

Holy Snow

The winter wonderland fairy came to visit last night. She (he?) powdered Brentwood with picture perfect snow, dressing the trees in lacy couture and disguising the ugly browns and grays of winter's grass and bush.

My walk through the neighborhood felt like a dream. I noticed homes I've never seen before; the contrast of brick to snow highlighting features that have been otherwise unnoticed. The hushed surroundings and the pristine vista hallowed my stroll through the woods. The footprints I left in the smooth perfection seemed a crime and I halfway expected the snow police to appear from behind the trees.

What is it about snow that excites us so? Even Comet comes alive in the snow, her friskiness frightening us for a dog her age. Is it the beauty, the weather phenom, the chance to slow down (sleep late 'cause no school!)? For me, deep down, I think of God our Creator. What a master designer, artist par excellence, supreme architect is God. And we... we are His Beloved, the recipients of all this JOY!

This is the day the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it. How Great is our God!

The Longest Night ramblings

Hmm. Tonight is the longest night of the year and I wonder... why don't we celebrate the birth of Christ, the One True Light, on December 22, when the days begin to be longer, and the LIGHT gains control over the darkness? I wonder... does the number of people with depression lessen as the days get longer? I wonder ... are more babies conceived on this night? I wonder... why God made the world with varying amounts of light in each day? I wonder ... why does the longest night come in this cold time of year--why not when it's hot?
It's interesting that our family spent the shortest night --longest day-- in Costa Rica last summer. What a contrast to today --in light, in temperature, in attitude (I'm a nicer person when it's light--and warm)! Though I don't like these long nights, they are good for me... kinda like spinach. The added darkness gives more time for thought, for rest, for peace. If it were light 20 hours a day, as it is in some parts of the world, I'd be doing stuff ... making hay while the sun shines.
Thank-you, God, once again for providing what we need. Bless those people who dread the night, whose fears and sorrows heighten in the darkness. Shine your warming Light into their hearts and may they find rest and peace in You.

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree ...

Why do my family members run and hide when it's time to trim the tree? Could it be that it takes me three hours and that I have to tell the story behind every ornament? With Andre Bocelli or Celine Dion singing carols in the background, I exclaim, "Oh, look--here's Lana's ornament from 1995--a dog. She's always loved dogs." Hey Philip, do you remember Mr. Karkow, your first grade teacher? Here's the ornament he gave you in first grade." "Aww... look at the pretty gold treble clef. A sweet little girl named Olivia gave that to me when I taught preschool Kindermusic."
There was a beautiful tree inside Green Bank today. Only three different items adorned its branches: pine cones, birds' nests, and red berries. Everything was placed just so on the branches, making the tree perfectly coiffed and so ... southern living. I love creativity and symmetry and artistry but, while beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, real joy comes in the sweet memories of living and loving.
Our tree has tons of handmade and storebought "religious" treasures including stars and nativities and angels and crosses--yes, even crosses. The journey to the cross began at Christmas and therefore brings a hint of sadness; yet, that sadness is overshadowed by the unquenchable hope and assurance we have in Christ. Despite life's struggles and day-to-day battles, I know WHO wins in the end and ... I'm with HIM. Happy Advent!

Humbly Proud

Yesterday, my first "baby" turned 31. Brent is a kind, caring, smart, young man. In the areas of husband, father, son, minister, musician, and friend, he is exemplary. If I were a peacock, my tail feathers would be spread and I'd be strutting around. Instead, I thank God and quietly brag about this treasure.

I'd like to indulge some maternal meanderings and memories. Before Brent was born, I prayed for a child. When I did not become pregnant in a few months time, I bargained with God. I promised God that, if He would give us a child, I would give this child back to Him. Like in the Old Testament story of Hannah, I sincerely meant it and planned to name our child Samuel if it were a boy. Today, he IS Samuel Brent.

Like many first-time mothers, I probably hovered over Brent too much but I could not bear the thought of being separated from him when he was little. I was one of the biggest boo-hoo-ers in the Kindergarten "Mom's cry room" on the first day of school.

Imagine the joy I had when he showed an interest in, and a propensity for, music. The first recital, the first solo, the first time to accompany in church, the first time he played in our praise band ...

Brent's adolescent years did not bring the typical angst and trials to our family. Maybe I'm forgetful in my "mature years" but I can truly say that raising Brent was a joy. He has been a good brother to Tess, Philip, and Lana. When he fell in love with Kelly, married her, became a minister, had children of his own, my joy grew exponentially.

When Rob was suddenly sick last year, Brent was a rock. My internal plates made a tectonic shift as the world turned upside down. Brent helped keep me oriented and was a calm, steady presence thoughout the ordeal.

Though I know that God loves the humble and hates the proud, I think that God, as a Parent, gives a nod as I exclaim about a recent event that evoked enormous parental pride. Brent, who serves as Director or Worship Ministries at Hope UMC, recently preached at his church. He has done this several times in the past but we were not able to be present in those worship services. This particular Sunday, we took off from our respective ministry jobs and went to Dallas, GA, to hear Brent. Tears flooded my eyes as Brent eloquently spoke with sincerity and authority, rightly dividing the Word of Truth.

The Hannah in me said, "Here he is, Lord. Thank-you."

We are women ... hear us ROAR!

*We are women... hear us ROAR*! Wow, I just finished my first 5K Race for the Cure (breast cancer) with 20,000+ other beautiful people. My dear friend, Faye, lost her sister to breast cancer last May and I wanted to do something for her. As it turns out, the event did something for me. From the moment I parked my car to join our team for the race, I was teary-eyed. The sight of mass humanity, coming together for one ultimate purpose --- the knowledge that many of these people had lost loved ones to breast cancer --- the realization that two women in our own team of 25 men and women were breast cancer survivors --- the feeling of community and like-mindedness with the goal to defeat this disease ---all these things caused my heart to swell and my eyes to fill.
The old Helen Reddy song ( see* ) ran through my mind, as well as the phrase, "No man (woman) is an island." Do we need each other? You bet we do... even those of us who by nature are independent spirits. Sorrows shared are halved. Encouragement and support are worth their weight in gold. Yeah for the sisterhood--and brotherhood-- of LIFE. God bless, heal, and encourage those who struggle with the disease. Holy Spirit comfort those who mourn. God give wisdom to researchers and medical personnel to BEAT this disease. In Jesus' Name.

On Eagle's Wings

Boy Scouts has been a part of our family for twenty-plus years. It is a great program that instills excellent values in young men, while letting them do "wild-at-heart-guy things" like camping, cooking over a fire, caving, rappelling, archery, and clay -disc shooting (whatever that's called!) Philip is almost at the end of his official time with Scouts. He's worked hard to earn all the required merit badges (21). Last Saturday, he organized and lead a team of 23 volunteers as they renovated and beautified the playground of an urban church that is used by an after-school program every weekday. I am so proud of him, of both the stick-to-it-tiveness he showed and the leadership qualities he exhibited.

Brent, our older son, achieved the high honor of Eagle, also, and it brought him to soaring heights on numerous occasions. When he interviewed for a scholarship at Furman University and also at his first job interview after college, his Scouting experience and, in particular, the rank of Eagle, were pulled out from his resume and discussed more than any other achievements.

Even I was a cub scout den mother one year! Corraling seven eight-year olds into some semblance of order was not my forte but we took some awesome trips and made some great crafts!

Hats off to all boyscouts and leaders!

And He will raise you up on eagle's wings, bear you on the breath of dawn, make you to shine like the sun, and hold you in the palm of His hand.