March 1--Holiday Unique to Wales--"Do the Little Things"

I am a descendant of a Welsh immigrant, and my mother (pictured below with her new grandson Titus) is his daughter. But I don't remember ever hearing before that March 1st is a Welsh holiday called St. David's Day.  

I found this out yesterday (one week post-chemo) when I was taking a rest in a recliner and decided to look at a Missouri Life magazine that our pastor's wife shared with us. 

Well, there was an article by someone whose family was so busy going their separate directions that they had no time for any family traditions. Upon beginning to research her roots in Sweden, this lady began some new traditions with her family based on some Swedish traditions she had discovered. 

Now I am not from Sweden, but my grandfather, Ronald James Edward Morgan, immigrated to America from Wales about 1920, and my mother has always had utmost respect and pride for her father. The idea of creating a Welsh tradition in our family sounded fascinating. Still crashed in my recliner (after nabbing my laptop), I started researching Welsh traditions--and music--and trivia.

I discovered that the flower of Wales is the daffodil--so I asked Jonathan to please bring back a bouquet or pot of daffodils from his trip to Pierre today, to celebrate St. David's Day tomorrow. (Unfortunately, he could not find any at any of the stores he checked in Pierre.) Daffodils are worn in Wales on St. David’s Day to show pride in Welsh heritage.

 Today, still under the weather with my chemo side effects, I found it delightful to make little homemade cards with pictures of daffodils I found in my file, the flower emblem of Wales, to send to my mom, two aunts, and their cousin Kathy--all descendants of my great grandfather Evan Morgan of Wales.   

I also sent a copy of the letter I enclosed to a friend of my grandfather Morgan, a friend whom he met in Wales and who has continued to be in touch with my mother. 

I found some interesting Welsh recipes to try to cook, although some of the seaweed and clam ingredients may be a little unusual and hard to find! I plan to make a recipe of Welsh cakes (like biscuits chock full of raisins or currants and fried in a pan like pancakes and then sprinkled with sugar) which I really want to try.

It would have many of the same ingredients as the raisin bread I just made this week, but made in a different way. A chicken leek Welsh recipe sounds tantalizing, as well as lamb stew, the national dish of Wales since Wales has more sheep than people! Right now my sister Iva is raising sheep, and maybe she could share some mutton with us! (Are you on, Iva?) 

    I suggested to Mom and family that next time we get together for a Morley reunion, we have a Welsh heritage theme. This might include singing of Welsh hymns such as “Guide Me O Thou Great Jehovah,” “Once to Every Man and Nation,”“The Ashgrove,” and “All Through the Night.” We could research the history of the Welsh revival and share stories of that. 

One quote from the Welsh revival is, “What we need is a fresh vision of the Cross. And may that mighty, all-embracing love of His be no longer a fitful, wavering influence in our lives, but the ruling passion of our souls.”

    Mom suggested some of the clan might want to put together a few Welsh costumes at the reunion for the youth to wear! I am excited about this idea!

    In honor of our Welsh heritage, I discovered that a favorite saying on St. David’s Day in Wales is the following, “Do the little things.” These are said to be the last words of the patron saint of Wales. I thought that was a wonderful quote which reminded me of how Jesus said that if we hope to enter heaven, we must become as little children, humble and trustful in Him. He also said that we must be little in our own eyes rather than proud and self-promoting or self-sufficient. Our smallness reminds us to trust Jesus alone for our salvation.

   Speaking of little things, the name of a village in Wales is not so little. In fact, it is the second longest village name in the entire world, spelled Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwy. It is 58 letters long. We should have young people try to pronounce that at the Welsh reunion!   
    Wales is home to many Iron Age forts, Roman ruins, and over 600 castles! I would love to visit Wales and the castles someday.
    I feel blessed to have a Welsh heritage and to be one quarter Welsh!

I signed my cards to my mother, aunts, and their cousin with this Welsh closing--
    Guda’r holl gariad [Welsh for ‘with all my love],
    Anna [Anwen in Welsh]

But what I liked most of this whole little bit of research I did while I was feeling weak and miserable with chemo was the little saying, "Do the little things."

The things that no one notices, little things that just simply need to be done, and the extra little details to make the ordinary special. Do the little things instead of pining for great things. If you do the little things well, Christ promised great things will be in store.

Making homemade cards from paper and seed catalogue pictures was a little thing. But it gave me the most delight I've felt in a long time--and helped me get through another day of chemo misery.

Placing my feet right now in the warm sunshine on a chair next to a quilt book is a little thing--but it warms my heart and reminds me of the love of God that extends from America to Wales to Ukraine to Israel to Russia to Africa and to all the ends of the earth--

His love that so often is exhibited by those who simply serve humbly, doing the little things rather than the great things, but knowing that "doing little things with great love," as Mother Teresa once said, is what makes little things great. 

O God, Your Face is Beautiful to Me!

Why are poems (with bits of free verse) coming one after the other to me in the last 24 hours?

This one started in the middle of my early morning--after a rough night. 

Your Face is Beautiful to Me

 

O God, Your face is beautiful to me

Although with feeble eyes, it's One I cannot see.

Unseen, yet loved, encased in mystery,

My God of love, Your face

is beautiful to me.

 I stand at kitchen window, seeing naught

But You--

The view

Is hidden from my eyes of flesh and not

one I can describe

to any tongue or tribe

Except for this one thing-- 

My heart takes wing

From flesh and earth and dust

When once I see with trust

The look upon Your face, the smile,

That gives me strength to trudge a mile 

Footsore and raw

With every flaw,

Inspired, though, by what I saw

A moment ago

By my window. 

For a Most Miserable Night

Tonight was one of the most miserable nights I've spent after chemo. Nausea, acid reflux, headache, exhaustion, hot feet with neuropathy, messed up innards and other ailments. It's a relief that last week's chemo is supposed to be the last for now. 

Tossing and turning in bed, I started thinking of an idea for a poem, knowing some people are going through far worse problems than chemo, but I couldn't seem to get any words to rhyme until I got up and came out to my notebook and pen. 

And even then, with my heart walking in the shoes of any who are hurting so much worse than I...it flowed a bit more like free verse, without perfect rhythm, but maybe that was as it should be.

 

O God, Are You Enough?

When life is reduced to misery 

 and pain,

When I experience heartache again,

and again,

When I feel that all my efforts

are in vain,

O God, are You enough?

When those I love elude me

or forget,

When tears run down my face in silent

rivulet,

And when I try to thank You but

can only fret,

O God, are You enough?

When words have hurt and crushed me

to the ground,

The things that others say go round

and round,

Or when cold silence speaks more icily

than sound,

Are You enough, O God?

When no one understand where I

may be,

And I am all alone

in misery,

When hunger drives me to 

a helpless knee,

O God, are You alone enough?

When loss and grief have entered 

my own door,

I cannot find whom I have long searched for,

And darkness settles chilly

more and more,

Is God the Lord alone enough? 

God of holy trinity, when my heart is stone,

Melt it with Your gentle love, and my spirit own.

Father, Son, and Holy Ghost--I am not alone!

Now speaks my heart in joyful song--

God's presence rights my every wrong.

God is enough, though nights seem long.

I reach across a chasm wide

To welcome my enemy to my side,

God is enough, I cannot hide

His love, His everlasting grace,

Together with Him we take our place--

My God has shown His matchless face!

 

Cardinal WIngs Over Snow--Keeping a Warm Heart in Winter Cold

  Last week bitter cold settled over most of the country, including Missouri where several of my family live. Earlier in Virginia, my sister Dorcas sent photo after photo of the severe ice storm that knocked out power for their county and a neighboring county. Electric trucks and personnel were coming in literally from out of state and as far away as Texas to help get the power up and running again. Some people were out of power for days. 

Dorcas thought no fewer than 25 trees had fallen across their own long driveway alone, to say nothing of other countless trees down, including a giant tree in whose branches her boys had built a tree stand up in the woods. That tree went over, tree stand and all. Her boys spent much time clearing their drive and dealing with the wrecked tree stand and other storm related things.

Later two of my sisters-in-law in Missouri were sending photos of the cardinals that came to their bird feeders every day.  

Early last week here in South Dakota the thermometer read minus 29 one early morning. No cardinals around in temperatures like that! 

  

I tried not to be jealous of my family in Missouri with those bright red, beautiful birds that cheer the winter season back east and in Missouri. Here we just have a single woodpecker, and that's all, for months. We just send pictures of milk frozen to the sides and rim of the stainless steel milk pan when Danny comes back to the house with the goat milk in sub-zero weather!

I revel in the beauty of the photos--unbelievable beauty of God's creation. And how do such small creatures survive the bitter cold?

With a little research, I discovered several ways that birds stay warm--besides the obvious way of escape to warmer climate by migrating, of course.

First, birds seek shelter. They look for holes in trees, brush piles, sheltered spots under the eaves of buildings. (Jonathan discovered this phenomenon a couple weeks ago when he went to Martin, SD, to install a steel door in the all-purpose building. All the way down the middle of the building were tell-tale-bird droppings from where swallows or sparrows had been roosting at night. As Jonathan finished installing the door, anxious birds were swooping about him, unsure what had happened to their entrance to the building where they found shelter each night.)

And I think to myself, in the winter season of our lives, when we are fighting cold shoulders and bitter distresses and unbearable odds, we must find shelter in Jesus. He is the Door to a warm and sheltered spot--near to the heart of God. 

Seeking shelter helps birds stay out of the wind. There are times that a person cannot escape wind or storm. Sometimes things happen that you cannot prevent; people say or do things that you cannot control. Things happen so fast, you are blown a few hundred feet down the road before you can catch your balance.  But there are also many times that, with just a little wisdom, prudence, foresight, and humility a person can avoid a fight, a storm, a pitfall, and disaster. 

When the wind starts to blow, we can be humble. We can look for shelter. We might back out of something. We can wait before we react. We can pause to pray, or we can sleep on major decisions. We don't have to sit on a branch alone in the wind, just letting it whip about our ears and hearts while we helplessly freeze to death, blaming the cold air and the wind. We can find shelter in God, in humility, in a small and humble place.

Second, birds that stay north all winter fluff their feathers around their bodies, which keeps cold air outside and traps warm air inside. 

God has given the birds their own feathers to stay warm. They hunker down in the cold and fluff their feathers, and it's better than any winter coat we humans could ever invent. Some birds, such as the American goldfinch, also grow more feathers in the winter. "Studies show that most winter birds have 35-70 percent more feather mass than summer birds. Both outer contour feathers and underlying down feathers are increased. What’s more, birds further increase the insulation value of their plumage by fluffing, which makes the plumage thicker and increases the depth of the heat-trapping layer of air next to the skin."

God has given the birds beautiful feathers to stay warm, and He has given us, His people, promises that we can rely on. When the cold comes and the winter winds blow, we need to turn to His promises and start fluffing them up to our attention. 

"He has said, 'I will never leave thee nor forsake thee.' So we may boldly say, 'The Lord is my helper; I will not fear. What can man do to me?'" Hebrews 13:6

"Even to your old age, I am He. And even to gray hairs I will carry you. I have made, and I will bear; Even I will carry, and will deliver you." Isaiah 46:4

"I will go before you and make the crooked places straight; I will break in pieces the gates of bronze and cut the bars of iron. I will give you the treasures of darkness and hidden riches of secret places, that you may know that I, the Lord, Who call you by your name, am the God of Israel."

Fourth, "birds as diverse as kinglets, titmice, bluebirds, grouse, and penguins go one step further to reduce the amount of heat they lose. They huddle together." Birds know the value of a flock. They stick together in cold weather. If one of them can pack 30 percent of its body surface tightly against one or more neighbors, then heat loss can be reduced by 30 percent. Creches formed by both young and adult penguins are based on this concept."

"Ever notice that nearly all of the birds that hang around in the winter do so in flocks?" Having other birds around makes it less likely that a predator such as the Lucas cat will pounce! There is safety in having other birds around to warn of danger or traps. Flocks of birds also keep each other in the loop as to where food is, and that leads us to the fifth point. 

To keep warm, birds eat as much as possible. They look for seeds and will flock to feeders where black-oil sunflower seeds, millet, and suet is placed. They know how important it is to stay nourished. And as Christians, we are not unaware, are we, that in the bitter cold seasons of our lives, we have the choice and opportunity to nourish ourselves well on the Word of God? Daily, perhaps several times a day, we ought to turn to that sacred Book to feed ourselves on its nourishment. Likewise, we should turn to the hymns and songs of faith and hope to encourage ourselves in the Lord, as well as choose good books and stories of overcoming faith to nourish our souls and spirits. Let us learn from the birds to seek out adequate nourishment during our bitterly cold seasons of life. God's Word in both the Bible and hymns of faith and godly books and biographies of God's people will warm our hearts. 

Additionally, some small birds such as kinglets and chickadees can drop their body temperature and go into controlled hypothermia to save energy. Even mourning doves can reduce their body temperature on cold nights.

I've often wondered, how do bird's feet stay warm? 

I didn't know before a little research today (while I am sick with chemo and the family is gone to church) that birds have specialized scales on their feet and legs to reduce heat loss. And I couldn't help thinking of the armor of God--which Paul urges God's people to put on, in order to stand when the evil day comes. The breastplate of righteousness, the shoes of the preparation of the gospel of peace, the helmet of salvation, the sword of the Spirit, and the shield of faith.

 

Birds also have

 a counter-current heat exchange system in their legs and feet—the blood vessels going to and from the feet are very close together, so blood flowing back to the body is warmed by blood flowing to the feet. In the winter cold, birds "lower their leg surface temperature to below that of their plumage surface, retaining heat at their core."

 Birds "do get very cold feet: the surface temperature of their toes may be barely above freezing even as the bird maintains its core body temperature above 100°F (38°C). But most birds don’t succumb to frostbite because there is so little fluid in the cells of their feet, and their feet are mostly tendons and bones with little muscle or nerve tissue."

 

I found it fascinating that while a bird's feet may be near freezing, its core temperature remains warm, keeping the bird alive. How important it is to keep our core beliefs, even if peripheral things may have to be worked out or conceded in order to survive! At the core, we must keep God's truth alive in our hearts, and keep His Word warm within!

https://www.allaboutbirds.org/news/how-do-birds-survive-in-very-cold-temperatures/

• https://www.birdwatchingdaily.com/news/science/how-birds-stay-warm-when-the-weather-turns-cold/ 

  https://www.allaboutbirds.org/news/why-dont-birds-get-cold-feet/

Rose and Crystal Meet Wee Missouri Nephew

 Earlier this week, Rose flew to Missouri to spend a few days with her cousin (and my niece) Susanna who just had her first baby about three weeks ago. Several cousins went to St. Louis to meet Rose at the airport.

Technically, little Titus is Rose's "first cousin once removed." But good grief! Who is big enough to carry around a title as long as that? Google says "nephew" is perfectly fine to call the child. To me, he is my grandnephew, or great nephew, which are also rather grand titles for such a wee boy.

"He's so little!" Rose squeaked on Signal. She is trying to prepare herself for her own baby due in just three months now. 

She had knitted booties for Titus and sewed and embroidered a dear little bib which I thought quite charming. 

This is the underside of the bib.  

Not to be outdone, Crystal ended up having an Amish drive all the way to Missouri this weekend--landing squarely on Susanna's doorstep as well, all at the same time Rose was there! I might have gone with Crystal, but my chemo was scheduled for this weekend, too, so I had to stay put and just enjoy photos the girls sent and letters from my mother telling about everyone there. It has been a year since I saw my mom, so I hope to go see her sometime later on, once chemo is out of the way. 

Wee Titus and Crystal. 

 

Hannah had finished the last of several baby quilt tops that my sister-in-law Anita had sent home with us months ago. Hannah sent it back to Missouri with Crystal. I am grateful for the little projects the girls do to keep their hands and hearts busy with doing good. 

Plantain Salve--and Balm of Gilead

Months ago, I picked and dried a bunch of plantain to make our own salve for chigger bites and other ailments. When the leaves were perfectly dry, I poured olive oil over them and let them soak in a quart jar. 

 The leaves were supposed to soak for about two weeks, but then I had no idea where the beeswax beads were to melt to make salve. So the plantain sat in the jar for months--until last week. 

Having found the beeswax in the attic recently, I finally made the salve.

 It is extremely simple. You just strain the leaves out of the olive oil and add about 1/3 the amount of beeswax as you have olive oil, and let the beeswax beads melt in the warm oil over a double burner pan or, in my case, on a wood stove.

I stirred the oil every so often until the last beeswax bead had melted.

Then I poured it all into little jars or containers. Right now, I'm using it for my thumbs and fingers which dry out dreadfully and crack after chemo, and am keeping it applied to the corners of my mouth and lips, too, that also tend to crack until they bleed after chemo. I'm so grateful for plantain salve that soothes chemo cracks and chigger bites.

I just wish there were a salve for broken hearts. 

*************

Oh, Balm of Gilead, where do you hide?

There are hearts that are cracked and bleeding inside.

Where is the oil of love and of grace

To  bind up the wounded in every dark place?

Oh, Balm of Gilead, let us now find

Your soothing comfort to calm soul and mind.

Flowing from Calvary, where pain met with love,

Soft as a feather from the wing of a dove. 

Oh heart of God and sweet Gilead's balm, 

Melt us and warm us until our hearts calm. 

Comfort our sorrows, heal us today,

Sweet Balm of Gilead, come now to stay.

Anna Lucas

 

Terrible Fight in Middle of Night--on the Other Side of the Wall

Last night, little did Jonathan and I know that our pleasant evening in Hot Springs after my last chemo treatment would end up a little less than pleasant. We had enjoyed the sun-bathed scenery as we traveled to Hot Springs, stopping to admire this stream and snowy pines in the red rocks--so like Colorado.

Then we checked in to our room at Sleep Inn where Jonathan had found a good price on a room--and it was one of the nicest rooms we'd ever booked. While I continued to revel in the warm, spacious room where I could quit shivering, Jonathan brought in a couple extra loads of stuff--veges and fruit we'd bought that must not freeze overnight in the vehicle.

The room came complete with two queen beds, and since we had the option,

I teased about sleeping in separate beds--which resulted in both of us reaching out to each other with a huge hug and kiss and the decision to ditch that idea. 

Every day, Jonathan and I choose each other--on purpose. Doesn't matter if other people are ditching their spouses right and left, we choose each other all over again. 

I practically forgot about chemo, thinking how comfortable the bed was, and that I got to share it with a warm husband that I can huddle up to if I'm shivering.  

Well, Jonathan and I both  fell asleep rather blissfully--until about 12:30 when I woke up to hear loud  noises, thumping and yelling. It sounded like it was below us, but then I drifted back to sleep. Soon, however, I was wakened with louder yells and bangs. It took me a while to figure out that it was in fact in the room right next to us--the noises were coming through the wall behind our pillows! 

"If you won't be--" I heard one man shout. Thump, thump! More yells. More bangs.

I couldn't make out much of what was being said. But then more unmentionable shouts and yells and thumps and bangs going around the room next to us. 

"I'm going to kill your mother!" the loudest man shouted. More yells, bangs and thuds.

"I'm going to stab you!" the loudest man shouted. 

Gone were the blissful moments.

"Jonathan!" I whispered, "are you hearing this?"

He nodded. "He was threatening to stab the other one," I said. "We need to do something."

"He's probably drunk," Jonathan said.

We got up, while listening to more thumps and bangs. Jonathan was looking for the hotel number and dialed it. He was able to get hold of the front desk and tell them what was going on and which room number he thought it was. We heard three sharp bangs. 

Was it a head being banged on the floor? Was it a nightstand being banged on the floor? I put on my robe and creaked our door open, hoping the hotel person was coming. As I looked out, a young man had just come out that room door and was starting down the hall, letting the door behind him slam. He was pulling on a rust and yellow fuzzy jacket and hurrying down the hall. He went one way, then the other to find the stairs. In a minute I heard another door slam. 

We waited with bated breath. Finally the hotel person came around the corner and listened at the door of room 405. "In here?" she asked. "Yes," we said. An angry voice was still in there, we suspect talking to the younger man on the phone now, since the younger man was downstairs also talking on the phone.

"I'm concerned for your safety," the hotel lady said."I need you to go back into your room and I'll call the cops."

"Thank you," I said. "I would call the cops myself. We are willing to tell them what we heard."

We went back into our room. "If Rapid is like other cities," Jonathan said, "it might be an hour."

In less than 20 minutes, two police cars were pulling in.

Still, "You better not depend on cops to save you from getting killed," I said.

The police knocked next door, and we heard voices but couldn't make out anything. Later outside, the police were talking to the younger man, probably the other man's son, and he ended up going with them in the car's back seat without handcuffs. We suspect he went with them for his own safety. I don't know why the older drunk man wasn't arrested.

Now that the fight was over and no one could be harmed, I crept back into bed. The fight had been on the other side of the wall. I could go back to sleep.

This morning we enjoyed visiting the generous breakfast nook. I chose instant hot oatmeal, scrambled eggs, a sausage, and yogurt, along with chamomile tea. 

Upstairs again, I kept looking out our 4th story window to watch McDonalds next door with no end of vehicles snaking through the drive-through. 

Once a dove landed on a light pole below me--God keeping on sending doves of peace into my unlikely places.

And I treasured the peace on this side of the wall.

No drunkenness, no shouts, no fights, no threats of stabbing or killing.

Instead, warmth and love and togetherness and gratitude and Jesus--with just a wall between the two different worlds.

Post-chemo Supper at Jalapeno Grill

Yesterday I had my final chemo at Rapid City. Usually we stay at a friend's overnight before getting an injection next morning to stimulate white blood cells, but the lady of the house had influenza. So Jonathan found a hotel room on Priceline for just $55. But there was no stove or microwave, and I had been too exhausted the day before to figure out meals.  

 

We decided together to go somewhere for a hot meal as long as we could ask for a corner away from people since I'd just had chemo. 

To complicate matters, (or make things more interesting depending how you look at it) we had to travel 50 minutes away to Hot Springs to swap vehicles with Crystal who needed our van for picking up Amish ladies in Hot Springs. 

We had the van with a trailer because Jonathan had just picked up a trailer full of appliances from Lowes for Building Hope Enterprise. So we met Crystal where she took the van and trailer and went to pick up Amish ladies while Jonathan and I drove straight into the setting sun to find Jalapeno Grill restaurant. 

It was a Mexican restaurant, and the name intrigued us since Jonathan loves jalapenos. The menu options online looked like I could find something un-spicy, and so we found the place. 

 

There it sat with the cutest jalapeno yard decor. Inside was just as charming, with wagon wheel lights. 

There were less charming things as well, but no matter where we go, we have to put up with something. 

I got a small plate of a cheese and mushroom enchilada with rice and beans, and Jonathan had some sort of shrimp and bacon dish.  

The hot supper in such a charming place really hit the spot. I could tell that both of us were enjoying ourselves very much. It is a very good habit to follow my chemo treatments with something enjoyable--on purpose. 

There's often a risk to take, but we learn to make the best of things and enjoy the moments and the charm along the way.  

I left this Scripture card with our tip. Looked at one way it reads, "The wages of sin is DEATH," but you turn it upside down and it reads, "But the gift of God is eternal LIFE." The very same decorative print spells both words, Life and Death, depending how you turn the card.

Each of us has the choice to determine whether our destiny is Life--

or Death.

Every choice leads one direction or another. 

 Likewise, our decisions result in whether we will be happy or grumpy, bored or fulfilled.  

Will we truly live each day, or will each day be one step more toward a lifetime of dying, grieving, and regret?

I could have arranged my chemo day to be a great day to complain and grudge and worry.

Instead, we took advantage of some complications along the way to visit a new place and enjoy a wonderful meal in a fascinating venue--leaving behind a piece of the Word of God in print.