A New Year. A New Life

I have been spoiled for the last fifteen years.  I had a spacious home in the country with lots of room to roam.  Life has changed.  I never expected to get old(er), nor did I ever think I wouldn't be capable of doing some of the things I love.  But it is so . . . and I have to face the music.

We finally sold our home with the huge cowboy porch that sat on the bank of the Snake River.  The house came with the porch . . . but it was the porch which I bought.  And it was a deal!  It has hosted church services, breakfasts, potlucks,   parties, graduations, baptisms, family, and oh, so much time sitting in my swing reading a great book.  How could I leave it?   It was a long, well thought out decision, one that had practicality written all over it.  Even when you love something, if you can't take care of it adequately, it hurts to watch it deteriorate.  The first to go were my animals: the horse, the cows, the goats, the dogs, and lastly my chickens.  The passagae of each of those left a vacancy in my life.  Then came the war with weeds that I could not come close to winning.  And add to that the upkeep of the buildings and taking care of irrigation, so for all the practical reasons, we had to downsize.

Will I miss it?  Absolutely!  But it helps to know that the new owners "love" it as much as I did.  And they have youth on their side to keep it up and running.  They will be a good addition  to the community.  They have plans, which is good.  Everything has to evolve and grow.

As I looked around at those empty rooms one last time before I left, it no longer felt like home.  My things were gone, the walls were bare, even the memories had begun to fade.   But I have been blessed.  I have gone from spacious to cozy.  And perhaps that is good.  Less upkeep, less work, less stuff.  I have decided that "home"is where ever my "stuff" is, those things that are family heirlooms, gifts given to me, stuff that is comfortable, even my own bed.  Will I adapt?  Probably very well in the end.  Right now I am still figuring things out.  Each day is a challenge to find the necessities that make this new place "work".

God is not without knowing my desires.  We went from eight acres on the river to a half acre with a creek in back.  I even have a mallard and his mistress in that water behind my house.  There are many trees, a gazebo for my swing, and the anticipation of seeing what will pop out of the ground next spring.  All new and yet comfortable.  

What I will miss most are the people.   I will miss my Bed and Breakfast guests.  Each and everyone of them were interesting and delightful.  Some were funny, some became family before they left our home, all of them brought "arm chair travel" to my door. Not only did they provide spending money, they left me with memories and friendships that will never be lost.  I will also miss my community.  It was wonderful to walk down the street and know or recognize almost everyone I met.  To have people recognize my face and know my name is a trait unique to small towns.  What I miss most is Twelve Baskets, the non-profit that we three "crazy ladies" founded nearly ten years ago.  Oh, I don't miss the physical labor (my back is profoundly grateful), or the hassle of sorting goods and labeling items. I miss my customers. Over the years, many have become more than just customers, they have become very special to me in one way or another.  It took time to establish those relationships, a treasured time.  Relationships will happen again, but those people will always remain in a secreted place in my heart.

I am  looking forward.  Never one to let grass grow under my feet, I am already planning for the future.  There is so much to do, so many things to try, so many places yet unexplored . . . there is not enough time for everything.  Bittersweet.  That word says it all.  I am looking forward to new people who will enrich my life, to trying new things, and learning and growing . . . but still treasure the memories of all of those people who already made a difference, changed me, encouraged me, or lifted me up when I had hit the bottom.  I will never lose all I have gained from them! They will go with me for the rest of my life.

Just Writin' on the River Road

It's a Wonderful Life

I sat down the other night and watched "It's a Wonderful Life" from beginning to end.  It really is a great movie.  It deserves its status as a classic.  It was also very thought provoking.



What if you had never been born or your life had been cut short.  What would the world be like with out you?  I have bumbled through life without a lot of thought about whether or not I make a difference.  Mostly it was just surviving; making it through the day, paying the bills, raising the kids, doing the laundry.  I never considered that my presence just might impact another, that it might change a life . . . hopefully in a positive way.

If I had never been born my husband would have married someone else.  My son would not have been born.  My daughter would have ended up with different adoptive parents.  And those are just the major things.  What about all those lives I have come in contact with over the last 70 years?  Did I in some way change them or influence them?  And did they, in turn, make a difference in someone else's life?  It is a profound conundrum, one to which I will never have an answer.


As I look back over my life, I can see the many people who have changed me, challenged me, filled me.  I had a family that adopted us when we were brand new parents.  They helped me see how families are suppose to work.  They weren't perfect but they were there for me.  They changed me, I changed for my children, they are now changing how they parent.  Just one family.  And that family has impacted three generations so far.  What if they had never been a part of my life?

And then there was the family that I barely knew at church.  They had an adopted daughter from the Philippines.  And I fell in love.  So much so that we decided to adopt a child.  We changed our daughter's life and she changed ours.  I have been blessed with two incredible grandsons who would not exist if that family had not sat in front of us at church.

Then there was the friend who was my "yes, but . . . " friend.  We would have deep theological discussions which always ended with "yes, but . . . ".  It used to drive me nuts.  I loved her and hated her.  Just once I wanted to be right!  In retrospect, now that she is gone, I see she was challenging me to think, to study, to "not lean on my own understanding" but to search out everything for truth.  And, even though she has been gone for nearly 20 years, I can still hear her voice in my ear saying "yes, but . . ".

What about that person who believed in me so much that she helped me get a job with the USDA. Me, the little old hick from the country, working with "educated" people.  Me, who had no ability, no self-esteem, no education was hurled into a job that was way beyond my pay grade.  Because of this persons confidence in me (when I had none), I succeeded and rose up the ladder quickly.  She believed in me.  Sometimes that is all it takes.

And then there was the long lost shirt-tail relative who I only kept in touch with through Christmas cards.  She encouraged me each and every Christmas to "write".  I appreciated the compliments, but never took them too seriously.  And, low and behold, now I am writing.  What if she had never said anything?  What if I had never known her?  She made a difference.

Once in a great while, I get a glimpse of a difference I made to others.  I get a card with wonderful words, or a teary hug, or a smile of understanding.  Not because I do "big" things, but because I was meant to be there at that time in their lives.  Sometimes just being there is enough.  I can only help change the world one person at a time.  Not because I try to mold them into something else, but because I encourage, or listen, or laugh or cry with them.

It is a wonderful life.  Every day, in every way.  You make a difference.  Never believe that you don't count, that you are not important.  If you have come into my life, however briefly, you have made a difference to me!  Believe it!

According to the movie, every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings.  Maybe you are that angel!  I know you are a gift to someone somewhere.

Just Writin' on the River Road

Christmas

I will admit that I have been a "bah-humbugger" when it comes to Christmas the last few years.  There has been so much upheaval in my life that I just didn't have it in me to decorate, bake, entertain or even cook like I should have.  What a really sad thing to have to admit!

But this holiday season has changed my attitude.  This year we have been blessed with a small miracle.  Oliver Thomas was born on November 14th.  And he was a miracle for he was born with the cord wrapped around his neck three times!  We are blessed that the doctors finally decided to do a C-section or it is possible I would not have a beautiful little grandson.


In looking at little Oliver, I am reminded of another baby that came into this world some two thousand years ago.  That baby was also tiny, helpless, truly dependent on a teenaged mother for his care.  He did not have the option of hospitals or doctors to make sure he arrived safely.  He did not even have a bed in which to lay.

A newborn.  What was God thinking to put all of His eggs in one basket?  The creator of the heavens and earth, the God of all things; what was He thinking??  A baby, helpless, totally dependent on a young, inexperienced mother, and not even born at home but in a drafty, dirty barn.  A million things could have gone wrong.  But they didn't.  In fact, everything was pre-planned by his Father.  That baby fulfilled every prophecy attributed to him in the scriptures.  What are the chances of that happening?  I could take you through the law of mathematical probability but it would take too long.  Needless to say the probability that over three hundred prophecies would be fulfilled by one person is 1 in 480 billion x 1 billion x 1 trillion.  In other words, as close to impossible as you can get.

I passed a flock of sheep today with the shepherd out amongst them.  God chose the lowest of the low to reveal the news of the birth of His son.  Shepherds were as close to outcasts in society as any could be.  But it was shepherds who first saw the child.  They were in the fields tending the flocks for the temple sacrifices.  Little did they know they were viewing the ultimate sacrifice for all men on earth.  Do think they ever wondered why they were chosen for this incredible occasion?  Do you think anyone believed them when they shared this remarkable news?  Did they even understand what they were witnessing?

And what about this child's mother?  We know that she "treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart." (Luke 2:19)  She expounds on her feelings in the Magnificat in Luke 1:46-55.  She knew, but I wonder if she really understood.  Certainly she didn't know that 33 years later she would be grieving at the foot of a cross that held her firstborn.  She would cradle him in her arms once again in his death. It must have cut her to the core to see this child of hers scourged, beaten, mocked, and ultimately sacrificed.  Was she aware of the predictions of his death in the scriptures?Did she marvel every time he did or said something?  Did she wonder if he really was the son of God?  Did she look upon him as her son . . . or His son?  Was she angry with God for allowing this to happen to her baby boy?  I can not even imagine what she must have gone through.

And poor Joseph.  This wasn't his child.  And yet God placed the care and upbringing of this baby into his hands.  His wife, whom he had probably been betrothed to since she was very young, was carrying an illegitimate child.  He was humiliated enough to abandon her had not God intervened.  Was it difficult to raise God's son?  I would imagine you might be second guessing every parenting decision you made.  And perhaps wondered where you fit into his life as a parent.  Did he resent this child?

The wise men knew.  Not that this child was the savior of the world, but they had known for centuries that a king of great importance was coming.  I am sure they envisioned the majesty of thrones and crowns and kingdoms.  They brought gifts that indicated all of that. Do you think they wondered when this "king" they had visited as a child was sacrificed on a cross?  Had they made a mistake?  Did they read the stars wrong?

Jesus probably had everything against him by earthly standards.  But he had God as his Father which trumps all else.  God is the father of details.  He is the master of miracles.  He is the giver of life.  And we, the lowly, are the recipients of His eternal gift.  We can't wrap this gift in a box.  But we can share it with others, not just at Christmas, but every day of the year.  This year give the gift of life to everyone you know.  Give them a miracle.  Give them the ultimate love story that was ever written.  Just give them  . . .

As I look at little Oliver in all his dependent helplessness, tears of joy flow down my cheeks.  He is a miracle.  Every child is a miracle.  If a child does well in life, he can change the world around him. But the one that was born two thousand years ago in a manger has changed the world for all eternity.

I was introduced to this Christmas song last year and it is near and dear to my heart.  If you have not heard it, look it up on the net.  The last verse tears my heart wide open. Hallelujah!

A Hallelujah Christmas

I’ve heard about this baby boy

Who’s come to earth to bring us joy

And I just want to sing this song for you.

It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth,

The minor fall, the major lift

With every breath I’m singing Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

A couple came to Bethlehem

Expecting child, they searched the inn

To find a place for you were coming soon.

There was no room for them to stay

So in a manger filled with hay

God’s only Son was born, Oh Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

The shepherds left their flocks by night

To see this baby wrapped in light

A host of angels lead them all to you

It was just as the angels said

You’ll find him in a manger bed

Immanuel and Savior, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

A star shown bright up in the east

To Bethlehem, the wise men three

Came many miles and journeyed long for you

And to the place at which you were

Their frankincense and gold and myrrh

They gave to you and cried out Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

I know you came to rescue me

This baby boy would grow to be

A man and one day die for me and you

My sins would drive the nails in you

That rugged cross was my cross too

Still every breath you drew was Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Do you realize that His cross was your cross too?  Do you really understand that it was your sin that nailed him there?  He was God.  He could have removed himself from the situation at any time, but he didn't.  It was love that held him there.  Mull that over as you worship this holiday season!

Just Writing on the River Road

Bucket List

For the most part of my life, I never had time for a bucket list.  Who has time to dream about those far off fancies when you are struggling to raise a family, work a full time job, and maintain a home.  It really isn't in the cards.....either time or money wise.

But now, now that I am older, I think about the things that I would like to do: travel to far off places, experience new things, discover things I have never dreamed of.  Rather than checking things off my list, I seem to be adding to it.  Do you think that is going to be a problem?  Soon it will look like a roll of toilet paper.  Long and tenuous.  I don't know that I have enough time to do it all.

What does a person put on their list?  I know a couple of "oldies" that jumped out of airplanes.  No, I don't think so.  I'd like to advance into old age in one piece "thank you very much".  Now a zip line, that I might consider.  There are those who take "big" trips to foreign countries.  I could see me doing some of that.  Or they sell their home and live a vagabond life in a travel trailer.  A little of that would be good too, but I think I would want to return to a permanent address.

Being married to someone who has not much interest in exploring these options, often my dreams are met with frustration.  But non-the-less, I will attempt to fulfill some of the things on my endless list while I am still upright.  On my short list I want to ride horseback on the beach, cruise the Hawaiian Islands, travel to Israel, take a riverboat ride down the Mississippi.  Not terribly grandiose things, but still dreams.

But most of the things on my list are much easier to attain.  I want to see my grandchildren grow up.  I want to be an integral part of their lives. I want to explore and enjoy new things.  I want to try my hand at things that I never had the courage to do when I was younger, like being a Christian speaker or publishing a novel.  I want to continue to teach the Bible and watch my student's hearts and eyes be opened to a new understanding of the scripture.  I can do all of those things easily.

Somehow I find it a little sad that we need to have "bucket lists".  Shouldn't we live life to the fullest each and every day?  I understand that early in life we don't have the money to do "big" things, and then we have families and that can put a cramp in your style sometimes.  And there is always the career to which we devote much of our adult lives.  These things are all very important.  I guess it is when we retire that we realize that some of our dreams were not fulfilled.  Or maybe we just have more time, and hopefully finances, to enjoy more extravagant things.

Really, in the end, will I feel unhappy or unfulfilled if I don't get to travel, or learn to paint, or write the great American novel?  Maybe a little.  Each day should be filled with things that give us joy, satisfaction, and happiness.    Those things are easily found in friends, family, service to others, neighborliness or simply taking time to enjoy the seasons, the garden, the abundance of life around us everywhere.

So I may rethink my bucket list a little bit.  Perhaps I need to put those more meaningful things a little higher on the list and yet still plan for the big dream one day.  What about you?  Do you have unfulfilled dreams?  Perhaps now is the time to begin to explore what is really important.  Are you living every day to the fullest?  Let's get our priorities in order: family, friends, service to others, a relationship with our creator . . . none of which cost us anything but a little time.  But the rewards will be satisfying and fill us with joy.  Is there more than that?

In this season of Thanksgiving, remember to give thanks for all you have and look forward to each day with a "attitude of gratitude".  Everything, big or small, is worthy of a "Thank You" to Jehovah Jireh, our God and provider.

Happy Thanksgiving to one and all!

Just Writin' on the River Road

Why Volunteer?

Do you ever wonder why some people volunteer for everything? And others are not much interested in working for nothing. Maybe it is because you have not yet found your niche. We are all gifted in some manner, we all have likes and dislikes, or things that we are passionate about.

For those of you outside of my local area, this plea will probably not pertain to you.  After being in the "volunteer"business for nearly ten years running a non-profit, we are seriously considering closing the doors of our ministry.  Three people can only be stretched so thin and something as to give.  So I want to tell you what you have to win, or lose, if no one steps up to the plate and helps Twelve Baskets continue on.

We, at Twelve Basket’s Cooperative Ministry, are always seeking for volunteers. If you think volunteering is simply being there on the weekend, sorting through donations and greeting customers, you would be right . . . and wrong. There are so many additional needs that you may have never considered. We need “fix it” people to check out mechanical and electronic goods, organizers who want to help with special events such as the Coat Give-Away, the Harvest Festival, the Community Yard Sale, or float builders for the 4^th of July and Christmas parades. We need media people to advertise special events and make posts on Facebook or put up fliers. Those people who are computer savvy could help with so many things. Or perhaps you feel led to participate as a board member. How about being a financial counselor?   Do you have skills you can share with others?  Many of these things only require a few hours here and there, but all of you are necessary to make things run smoothly.  And yes, it does require a commitment just like a "real" job!

So why volunteer? There are so many reasons! While you will not get paid monetarily, you will gain ever so much from the experience. Young people, volunteer work looks great on your resume. It tells future employers that you care about more than wages, you care about your community, a cause, and people. It shows you are not afraid of hard work. You will gain abilities that will be helpful as you step out into the world. Honing your people skills will take you a long way in life.

Those of you who are retired, you too will gain from helping out. First there is the satisfaction of doing a job, serving your community or aiding someone who has a need. Secondly you will find a whole new set of friends and acquaintances that will enhance your world. And yes, you will learn new skills. Going against the old adage, you “can teach an old dog new tricks”. In fact, as we age, we need to be challenged to learn new things. It keeps us vital.

Some of the many perks of working at Twelve Baskets is the sense of family and community. The work can be hard at times, but there is a venue within the organization that will uniquely fit you and your abilities. Some of you like to be cashiers and greet the public, some like to organize and redecorate, others enjoy doing yard work or the many odds and ends at need to be done each week. Some of you can help from home, others are needed at the store on a regular basis.

The bottom line to any volunteer experience is not what you give, but what you get in return. Over the years we have been blessed beyond measure with your support, your friendship, your abilities, and the fact that you care about others and your community. We would love to share that sense of blessing with more of you. We want to get to know you. It makes our lives richer. Not only our lives, but everyone you come in contact with. We would like you to become part of our family.  

Right now we are accepting applications for two or more managers, as well as additional help.  If you don't volunteer to help, this little store that has supported this community for nearly ten years will close its doors by the first of the year.  And if you think we are "just" a thrift store, you would be so wrong.  One hundred percent of our profits from your generous donations go back into this community.  We not only help individual members of our community, we give out scholarships, we offer warm coats to the community for free, we support our local library, museum, art council, prescription fund, Senior Center, food bank, fire department, Disaster Fund and more.  We offer a place for those with special needs to learn some basic skills such as socialization.  We participate in fund raisers for those who have suffered a major loss.  We offer a safe place for those who are at risk.  They receive love, understanding, and help in any number of ways from personal counseling to financial management to reestablishing their lives.  And you will be prayed for, hugged, listened to, and leave knowing that somebody cares.

Yes, we offer wonderful goods that are donated by our generous community but that is just the tip of the iceberg that is visible to you.  We laugh with you, we cry with you, we support you and care about every little thing in your life that causes you joy or pain.  Do you really want to see us fall by the wayside?  Especially since it would only take a small sacrifice on your part to keep this ministry up and running.

We ask that you consider joining our team.  You will be blessed.  I can promise you that!

Just Writin' on the River Road

So what. . .

I see a lot of messages on Facebook about depression these days.  Suddenly, at this point in my life, it has knife stabbing meaning.  I never thought of myself in that way, but now it feels a lot closer to home than it used to be.

I don't even know how you define depression.  Do I feel suicidal?  Absolutely not.  Mostly it just feels like being covered with a heavy, wet blanket.  It is hard to think, hard to move, even hard to speak at times.  I used to think I was just having a "pity party", but I think it is more than feeling sorry for myself.  There is something deep and dark that pulls you back to all of  those "pitiful poor me" thoughts, something that won't allow you to let go and move on.  I used to think I wallowed in my problems because I chose to do that.  Now I am not so sure that the decision is all mine any more.


Talk to someone, they tell me.  But when you feel that no one else "gets" where you are at, it seems rather pointless.  So the routine "I am fine." answer is always at the tip of my tongue.  For I find that others not only don't understand, but mostly they don't care.  Not because they are mean or cruel,but because they, too, are dealing with a very full plate.  I don't blame them.  I understand.  They can't fix my situation.  We all deal with life and death, pain and illness, family issues, wayward children, disappointment, fear, and the list seems endless.  Walk a mile in someone else's shoes, the saying goes, if you want to fully understand their suffering.  I think there is a lot of truth in that.

But also, we should never discount another's pain and circumstances.  While not the same as mine, they hurt just the same.  It does not help to tell them they are "strong", because nobody is strong all the time.  We simply rise to the challenges before us when it is necessary.  And then we collapse into a well of despair.  It is like wearing lead boots and hoping you never end up near the water.

Those of you who are care givers, or have been care givers, will understand.  There is a fine line to maintain your own life while caring for someone else.  And when it is someone you love, it is even more difficult.  I reek of selfishness for I want to run away and leave it all behind.  But responsibility, compassion, loyalty, and love keep that from happening.  Please don't disparage anyone when they do take that short time to get away and recoup, it is a necessity if they are to continue on.

I am most fortunate in that I have two special people in my life.  We have been friends for 14 years.  Although we each struggle with our own battles, we know and understand each other's battles also.  When I am down, the other two pick me up.  When I need a "talking to", I get that.  When I can't go one more step, they are there.  I am blessed.  When life sucks, we suck it up together.  We keep each other going.  When I am tempted to give in or give up, they yank me back into the real world.  Sometimes those who really care have to "slap you up along side the head" so your head settles back on straight.

Joy is there, but it seems so far away sometimes.  Life goes on.  I need to learn to live for today....ultimately that is all I have.  But I have the promise of life everlasting with my Savior that will beat anything I can imagine here on earth.  I can't imagine surviving my circumstances without that promise.  "Jesus Loves Me" is not just a song, it is the truth.  And when all else fails, it is that truth that you hang onto.

Just Writin' on the River Road

Tribute to Love

I attended a funeral recently.  I confess, I really dislike funerals.  Perhaps it is the sadness, even though we try to make it a celebration of the person's life.  Or it could be that that person will leave a hole in my life that can't be filled by any other.  Maybe it is facing my own eventual passing from this world.  What ever the reason, it isn't a place I like to be.

This funeral was somewhat different.  Was it sad?  Yes.  Will that person leave a void? Yes.  But it was a testimony in a number of ways of the true power of love.

You see, Amy was handicapped from the age of three months when she suffered a bout with menigities.  She was an answer to prayer...…..she did not die.  She became the commitment in her parent's lives for the next 45 years.  The love of a parent for a child is a difficult thing to describe.  Is it just a commitment, or a sacrifice, or does it go deeper?  In this case it became a lifestyle.  The love was tangible, real and never faked.  For Amy would never run into her parent's arms and tell them that she loved them, but she told them through her laughter and smiles.  She mourned her daddy when he passed away.  Her mother knew this even though Amy couldn't tell her.  Amy was a special testimony in and of herself.  Her parent's love for her has become a testimony to the rest of us.

The love of family is immeasurable.   Amy's family surrounded her.  Her parents, her siblings, her nephews and nieces were all a part of her life.  Her sister testified how much Amy had changed their lives, filled them with a compassion and caring that could have come no other way.  Experience is not only the best teacher, it is sometimes our only teacher.  Each experience with Amy would ultimately change each of them for the better.

Another part of the story is the love that this community had, not only for Amy, but for her family.  They supported them in the hard times, were there when a shoulder was needed for a good cry, loved them through thick and thin, and physically stepped in to help when they were overwhelmed.  It was never a sacrifice for anyone to become a part of Amy's life.  It was just done because that's what people do who love and care for each other.

Perhaps Amy's care was seen as a life long burden by some.  And it could easily have been that.  But for Amy's family it was a burden of joy.  Was it difficult?  I am sure they could tell you many stories of the hardships, the difficulties, the pain, or the fear that encased these last 45 years.  But they don't focus on that, they focus on the joy that Amy brought into their lives.

I only met Amy once.  She didn't seem extra special to me, but then I didn't know her personally.  But the look on her mother's face when she interacted with Amy was extraordinary.  When other's talked about her, it was with love and compassion.  There was understanding, kindness, consideration expressed by all those who did know her or her family.  She is a testimony to the difference that one life can make in this world.  One life that changes everything it comes in contact with, one life that will be sorely missed.

Even though I didn't know you, Amy, you have impacted my life in subtle ways.  I was sometimes almost jealous of the love others felt for you.  God now has His little girl.  She is whole and well, sitting in His lap for all eternity.  Thank you for changing my life.  God bless you always.

Just Writin' on the River Road