When Bare Walls Haunt You, Hang Pictures!

The night before Crystal moved away from home to teach, as I tried to go to sleep, I suddenly felt like my joy was going out of my life.

 

Crystal has enriched our life ever since we found out she was on her way to join our family!

That was at Easter time 26 years ago, when we found out we had a Christmas gift on the way!

She was due on Christmas Day! 

Ever since she was born, she has been my joy (and sometimes a pain, to be completely honest, like when she kept eating stuff like dead cockroaches in our apartment in Ukraine, or dropped quite a few books into the bathtub water, 

but definitely far more joy than pain!)

 She was the one to keep me company all the years I missed Jonathan so badly when he was always gone to long days of work and I had to stay home with babies.

Crystal probably knows me better than anyone, and she also has probably absorbed more of me than others....Oh dear. I wonder what that means? Maybe that is why she roars when she laughs and makes funny noises, just like me!

She's always loved music, ever since she started jumping around in utero anytime music started up during church services in Ukraine, and then catching on so quickly to children's choruses I taught her, and from there learning piano to where she can play complicated hymn arrangements now, and

now is learning mountain dulcimer to play for elderly, as she did with us a couple weeks ago.

I'm so thankful that her back has improved from an injury a couple years ago to where she can again do her own work and not be in constant pain and getting back spasms just from moving something heavy.

The morning after she left, I went down to Crystal's empty room where Hannah was asking about something, and I started looking around at all the empty walls and the bare mattress and I had to get out of there fast! 

It was just TOO MUCH!

This wasn't quite the same as her just going off to college and coming home in between. At least then her room was left intact--the bed made, pictures and decor on the walls, pretty furniture and decor that became prettier by the year as she learned to decorate better than her mother can.

This was not the same as leaving for college. This time she actually moved out. 

And it's not the same. 

I had no idea my heart would ache that badly!

I wondered how much hearts ache when people lose someone forever, if mine ached this badly over a daughter, and a day later, a middle son, leaving home for teaching or for college!

Finally I knew I had to do something about it.

I had to hang something on those bare walls!

So we did and we are. The walls are not done yet, but we aren't letting those walls stay bare.

I'm not letting myself go on hurting unnecessarily. 

Curtains went up this morning, and plans are in the making for a guest room.

It is a natural and good thing for young people to leave the nest and go on their way, and I am incredibly grateful that Crystal is doing her best to do God's will and go through an open door, and that Timmy is seeking to do God's will in going to Bible College.

So when bare walls haunt me with a certain loss, I find pictures to hang, and make phone calls to the children I am missing, and enjoy the sunny windows filled with a forest of sunflowers!

Sunflower in the Smoke--When the World is Burning Up

 For days, perhaps weeks now, the atmosphere has been filled with smoke from the many fires out west. We have rarely been able to see Pikes Peak for weeks now.

What must it be like a thousand miles away in burning California and Oregon if our own blue Colorado sky is gray with smoke? Here is what the sun looked like a week or two ago when we went for a walk down the road.

Our sunflowers, however, don't seem to be worrying about the smoke. They are blooming more profusely than ever this year. They know a secret they would like to pass on to those who are seeing only smoke, clouds, and dreariness. 

 

The sun is still shining! They sense it through the clouds. They follow it through the smoke. They bloom on even when the sky is gray.  

The world is burning up. The Taliban has just taken over Tabul. Biden has gone on vacation while thousands of Americans and Afghanis are fearing for their lives because of his decisions. Haiti is reeling from another earthquake.

But behind the clouds, the Son is still shining. You can sense Him watching over His people. You can follow His ways through reading His Word. You can know that if evil prospers, it will only be for a time, and then comes the judgment. God's people will abide with Him for ever.

They will bloom on in the smoke when the world is burning up, shining "brighter and brighter unto the perfect day."

A Mother's Advice to a Son Leaving for College

 To my Eighteen-Year-Old Son Leaving for College

(All the advices I tried to give you before you left, or remembered after you left, or really, really hoped I had taught you in your first 18 years of life.)

Face life with a smile--

and a Bug Blaster Salt Gun (like the one Rose's friends gave her for her birthday!)

Take showers regularly. And use deodorant. Please.

Wash your laundry once a week.

Iron any wrinkly shirts.

Put away your laundry.

Do the dishes for the cook at least once a week. Grill something yourself every once in a while and give the cook a break.

You aren't going to be home anymore where your mother alerts you to risky, dangerous, or questionable situations. Instead, you will sometimes be around youngsters or other college kids who will dare, double dare, lure, and antagonize. Learn to recognize signs of danger yourself, and respond to them with wisdom rather than trying to prove yourself macho. (And for pity's sake, don't be the smartypants yourself!)

Wash your truck every once in a while, and clean the inside of your truck at least once a month. (Maybe your boy cousins will help you since they are likely to help ride in your truck sometimes.)

Unless, of course, you end up using a horse and buggy like what trots along outside your uncle's home every day. 

Begin college assignments immediately, and then pace yourself. Try to have your assignments done a day early rather than staying up until midnight the day before the paper is due. Just don't have late papers. Ever.

Do all your assignments. That means all of them.

Spend quiet time every day with God. Sometimes a meaningful, personal two minutes by a window with God will mean more to you than an hour with your head buried in the recliner--asleep! (And no, you probably won't hear this practical advice at Bible college, but no, I am not a heretic. And yes, you will know when you need more time than that, and that will surely be often.)

Learn from your mistakes. You are going to make some. Just don't let them define you.

Be courteous. Hold the door for the ladies, treat your teachers with respect, be ready to pray at a moment's notice (speaking clearly so others can join in the prayer), be kind to children.

Attend church every Sunday and be an active participant.

Get enough sleep. 

I repeat. Get enough sleep.

In between college studies, find something to do  that will benefit others. 

Don't bail out all your friends who spend their money on soft drinks, donuts, and Starbucks. But do be generous with real needs.

If all you have is a little money, share some. You can't outgive God.

Open Hands--Not Clenched Fists

Thursday I was struggling with a Mama-who-just-sent-her-son-off-to-college syndrome. I had gotten up early to see him off a little after 5:30, and then I did not go back to sleep.

 

Crystal had moved away for her first school assignment the day before! I had said goodbye to two children in two days! There were two big holes in my heart. Rose was crying, too, after hugging Tim goodbye. She and he have been pretty close, working outdoors together so much and hiking and hunting together (bear as well as elk and deer), and having so much fun together. 

    We had stood together at the door, Rose, Danny, Jonathan and I--Rose and Danny waving both arms and me blinking the porch light as we waved Timmy off. He's just eighteen, and off to Bible college nearly 2000 miles away. 

So there I was, back in bed, hardly able to believe what had just happened. 

But my hands were cupped to the Lord--an open cup, not a clenched fist.

Sometimes my hands whisper to the Lord the prayer that I have no words for. 

Before any of my children were born, they were given to the Lord.

They were absolutely surrendered. 

I cannot take them back now. 

I must keep an open hand--even when I know that life will not be easy for them--when they are choosing a way of difficulty instead of doing things their way.

I knew if Timmy had his own way, he would be over in western Colorado hunting bear in a few weeks. He's not going to get to hunt bear this year; or elk; just spend hours in classes and struggle to get his papers written and collateral reading done. How fun!

This was not his way.

But when God called, Timmy answered yes. He said goodbye to this year's bear hunt and elk hunt and to the mountains of Colorado, and he drove nearly 2000 miles Thursday and Friday to rainy Pennsylvania where there are ticks that give people lyme disease and where he's going to try to write the term papers he always hated in high school.

And his mother waits silently before the Lord, her hands speaking the message she cannot say in words.

When You Can't Relieve Everybody's Suffering--Relieve Just One!

 My little grand niece Kari, Elon's granddaughter, is the brightest, sweetest, happiest, bounciest little girl I've seen in a long, long time!

 

Someone saw her giving her Great-grandpa a hug before he had to leave Elon's place and took a picture of it! Loving little Kari cheered more than one person that day!

My dad had surgery Monday to repair a fistula and a chest port for his dialysis treatments, coming home in a lot of pain. Only one person was allowed in with him, and that had to be my brother who drove the two plus hours to the hospital with him on that hot day.My brother could not take care of everybody that day. Just one. 

But he took care of one person.

I stopped by at my brother's place a couple days earlier to visit his family and daughter who is bedfast with complications of lyme and other coinfections after a weeklong hospital stay recently. Because of her sensitivity to bright light, curtains had been drawn. Elon pulled one window covering down so we could have some light to visit, but otherwise, while a storm brewed outside, we sat in the dark.

I don't like dark. I need the sunshine. I cannot sit in the dark all day every day or I would soon be an invalid, too. But I sat in the dark for one hour for one invalid.

My nieces's dog and her puppy jumped into my lap, possibly nervous about the storm outside. The dog usually spends much of her life curled up contentedly by the feet of her mistress Amaris, but this time, the two dogs climbed right into my lap!

I don't particularly like dogs, but I couldn't help loving those two that jumped right into my lap and sat there.

I couldn't pet and comfort every scared pet that day, but I could comfort the two that jumped into my lap. 

And I could not sit in the dark with every sufferer who sits in prisons of wretchedness and darkness, but I could sit with one.

Some opportunities land in our lap. Others are far away. We can't help them all.

I read a flyer that came in the mail today from Christian Aid Ministries about their new ministry specified for widows, especially widows in India who are rejected as soon as they become widows, and who are often blamed for their husband's deaths. 

I was touched with the stories, and prayed for them. 

I cannot relieve the afflictions of all those millions of widows in India, Eastern Europe, Africa and so many other places, but I can sit with someone who is tied down to home because of an invalid daughter. I can make puzzles with her on a Sunday afternoon, just to spend some happy time with her.

I can't relieve all the widows who are blamed for their husbands' deaths, but I can refrain from blaming someone close to me for how they are dealing with their medical issues or their dying relatives. Dealing with those issues is hard enough without blame. I have a relative and also a friend both who were basically blamed for killing their loved one, even though they and others helping them were carefully and lovingly following hospice's protocol in the final days of life. Blame is a heavy burden to carry.

And I can spend the day with my mother, who is not a widow yet, but who was anxious and worried about my dad while he was at the hospital having the repair surgery. I can include her in my day of canning pickles. I can bring a chair for her so she can sit and watch me picking cucumbers out of Joella's garden. Joella's family was gone for the weekend and had cucumbers coming out their ears, and said I could have all I could pick that weekend. They couldn't provide garden produce for all those widows over there in India, but they could share with a sister who was homesick for fresh garden produce!

So I picked and picked and picked cucumbers from all those lush, climbing vines still blooming with hundreds of yellow flowers! I canned 42 jars of pickles while I was there, and Mom wanted to help, so I had her scrub cucumbers and wash a few dishes. And then I wanted her to sit down so I gave her the job of peeling garlic! She insisted on walking all the way to the end of the drive to the roadside stand to retrieve the little carton of garlic out there.

I admired my mother's balloon flower, called that because the petals form a sort of hollow balloon before opening and blooming!

All the clan met in Elon's home for worship Sunday morning so niece Amaris could be part of worship for once. We couldn't take worship to every homebound invalid, but we could do it for one. And we cannot do that every Sunday, for we need fellowship with others. But we could do it for one Sunday.

We all pitched in for Sunday dinner. I made the cucumber salad and deviled eggs. Others brought watermelon, a huge lettuce salad, casseroles....

home grown green beans and rolls.We couldn't share with all those widows in Africa, but we could share with each other after a weary week.

And we may not be able to spend our lives going around the country playing music or singing for all the nursing homes and assisted living places and churches who need music ministry, but, as our friends the Hudsons and we did yesterday here 17 miles from home, we can play and sing for one!

It's been months since the children played or sang somewhere like this, mostly due to Covid restrictions, but the Hudsons found this assisted living place that wanted us to come and share outdoors.

We set up on a deck of one of the buildings, keeping as close to the shade of the eaves as possible to stay out of the beastly hot sun, and the folk brought their chairs and sat in the lawns and under trees to listen. A music coordinator from Peyton Community Church and his pastor arrived as well, listening down below in the shade. I was afraid our poor little program of strings and singing would not be very impressive, but the music coordinator, all dressed up in cowboy hat and good jeans, came right up and invited us to their open mike event this coming last Saturday of August. "Plan to play for 25 minutes!" he told me. "And afterward there is a real chuck wagon supper!"

Yes, we may not be able to relieve the suffering of everyone in the world. But we can relieve one sufferer. Maybe we can't provide for all the orphans and neglected elderly and handicapped, but we can cheer one, send one card, send one donation for widows, sew one baby quilt for an unwed mother, share one row of extra garden produce, help someone one day, make one meal, clean one car, comfort one child, hug one elderly person about to leave for surgery, care for them when they come home, sit in the wretched darkness with one sufferer, console one anxious puppy, sing for one group of lonely seniors. 

When we cannot relieve everyone, we can still relieve one!

Crystal Moves to Missouri!

Last week, Sam, Carrie, Crystal and I made Crystal's first trip across Kansas to her new home in Missouri--a little apartment in the second story of an old Bible School dorm. A few of the rooms at one end have been renovated just a bit into an apartment of sorts, but it still needs a lot of work.

Here we are taking a look at the kitchen. 

Not much counter or cabinet space.

However, thanks to Cheryl Dyer, new school administrator, sending us photos, we knew ahead of time about the lack of cabinets in the kitchen, and we went to Restore in town where, although they did not have kitchen cabinets that matched, there were a few hutches, most of them for anywhere from $119 to $249. And then I found this one--an oak hutch for just $56!

We packed the top part of the hutch into the van, and the bottom part went on Sam's truck bed, along with Crystal's dresser, desk, and stuffed chair, practically the sum total of her personal furniture except for a night stand and book shelves.

In Missouri, Sam and Carrie lugged the bottom and top cabinet in two pieces up the stairs. It simply transformed that empty kitchen into something inviting now, exactly covering up the huge wall painting that was not at all kitcheny!

I had a blast washing up some of the dishes and pots Crystal had purchased at a Goodwill, and arranging them for her in the hutch.

Sam helped Crystal with her furniture, helped get her bed put together.

Crystal is quite excited about her new circumstances! She enjoyed the first staff meeting this last Tuesday evening.

She won't be that far from her grandparents, my mom and dad, whom we spent time with over the weekend and Monday and Tuesday. Here she is saying goodbye to my mom before we leave to go back to Mt. Zion.

Crystal will also not be that far from other cousins, and may hopefully be able to spend some weekends with them through the school year. Here she and Candace are having their devotions outdoors on the front porch of my brother Fain's place. At least they were supposed to be having their devotions! :) :) It is possible that they were also talking! But I'm sure the dear Lord will forgive them!!! :) :) 

Fain and Regina were gone to Mexico for a while and we didn't get to see them.