Happy Anniversary!

The picture on the left was taken May 24, 1975. I won't make you do math in public. That's 40 years ago. Wow!! It seems like it was only yesterday--until I look in the mirror.  :)  A few more gray hairs and wrinkles remind me it's been a long ride. And what an adventure it's been.

We left our home town of Texas City (we met in high school) a week after we married, and we have not lived any closer than an eight hour drive since then. We've lived in Texas, New Mexico, Utah, and Germany. We've visited almost 30 of the states and 6 countries together. Tommy's been to a few I missed, and I've been to a few he's missed. What wonderful memories. I am so thankful for the opportunities we've had to see the world. And for the friends we've made along the way. Our Christmas card list includes addresses from 11 states.

We've both had jobs we loved. Tommy reported for active duty with the Air Force June 1, 1975. He served 13 years active duty, then left the Air Force to take a job with Delta. A year later he entered the Air Force Reserves. For the next nine years he worked for Delta and the Reserves. He retired from the Reserves in 1998. We loved living a military life. He will retire from Delta in two years. I worked clerical jobs until 1991 when I became the Director of Business Services for the Utah-Idaho Southern Baptist Convention. Full-time Christian ministry was a blessing. I down-sized to a part time position 14 years later with the Salt Lake Baptist Association. Same job responsibilites on a smaller scale. Three years ago I retired and am living a "life of leisure."  :)

Family changed. Lindsay arrived in 1981 followed by Matt in 1984. Life was busy! Balancing career and family, sleepless nights, chasing toddlers, school, homework, ball games, band concerts, cheer competitions, driving lessons, college applications, graduations.....and the nest was empty. Quiet times with just the two of us again. Matt's beautiful wife, Amber, became a Ward in 2008. And we earned the titles of Nana and Papa when Carter and Charlie came long in 2011 and 2014. There's been sadness along the way as well. All of our parents and grandparents are gone now along with many aunts and uncles and a very special nephew.

The best thing about our marriage is that it has been Christ-centered. Both of us came into the marriage with the mindset that worshipping and serving God is crucial to a relationship. That does not mean there haven't been ups and downs. Or challenges. Or stressful days. Or hurt. Or regret. But, in those times, we looked back at our Ebenezer's--those times God had helped us. 1 Samuel 7:12, "Then Samuel took a stone and set it up between Mizpah and Shen. He named it Ebenezer, saying, 'Thus far the Lord has helped us.'"  Our God is faithful. He never changes. If He has carried us through difficult times in the past, He will do so again. And we draw strength and comfort from God's promises to the Philippians in chapter 1. "...He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ..." (6, 9-10) Looking back over our lives or forward to what will be, we have confidence that we can handle anything with God as our center.

I am so grateful for these 40 years with Tommy.  Here's to many more!

No Regrets--But a Question

Last week marked two years since I became a Grandma (aka GaGa). What a  blessing! Friends tell you how much fun it is, but you really don't understand until you experience it firsthand. Carter makes me laugh so much. And, at two, the new things he says and does come fast and furious. And, I'm pretty sure he's the cutest baby in the world!

The downside is Carter doesn't live nearby. He's a 12-hour drive or a ninety minute flight away. (As are his mom and dad--my son and daughter-in-law.) His Auntie Lindsay lives the same distance away but in the opposite direction.

Thank goodness for today's technology! FaceTime (or Skype for non-Apple people) allows me to see and talk with the kids and grandkids (number 2 is due in February) any time I want at no cost. Last year, we even opened Christmas presents with one family member participating via FaceTime. More than likely, we'll all be in different states this year but we'll be "together" to watch everyone open gifts. Text messages fly back and forth almost daily with photos of the latest antics. And don't forget the blessing of digital photos. No need to wait and wonder if the picture you just took looks decent. Just snap as many as you'd like and delete the ones with the blurry faces.

Free long distance via cell phones means there is no need to watch the clock while talking or forgetting something you wanted to say because you were rushing through the call. Just last night, Tommy and I spent an hour and twenty minutes talking with Lindsay about her recent trip to Florida to run a half marathon followed by six days of visiting amusement parks. She had a blast and knocked 30 minutes off her January run time.

I say all that to say this. We moved away from home a week after we married to begin Tommy's military career and have never lived closer than eight hours to home since then. When Lindsay was four and Matt was almost one, we moved to Germany for three years. This was in 1985 when not everyone had computers, there was no email, international phone calls were super expensive, and coming home was not an option. Our life has been blessed and I wouldn't trade it for anything. Even though it was hard to be away from home for birthday parties or holidays or just stopping by for dinner, I have no regrets about moving away. There have been many other blessings--friends all over the country, opportunities to see the world, and an opening of minds to other cultures to name a few.

But, now the roles are reversed. My kids are the ones who have moved away. And, it gives me a new perspective on how my mother felt when my kids were little and we lived so far away. She missed those first words and steps, seeing the excitement when a grandchild opened a present, the opportunity for us to chat, etc. And, one question haunts me. Did I do enough to keep her (and my dad and siblings) connected with our family? There's nothing I can do to change anything about it now and won't beat myself up over it. But my guess is probably not.

Cricket Calls

My dad used to tease me about being a 20th century girl.  He asked me once if I would have had children without all the modern conveniences like disposable diapers and canned formula.  If feeding my family depended on my gardening/canning skills, we would starve.  A farm girl I am not!  God knew exactly what He was doing (imagine that) having me born in 1954.

But there is one thing related to farming that I enjoy.  The changing of the seasons.  There's something about prepping for the coming season--especially fall--that makes me feel like a pioneer.  Though obviously on a much smaller level.  Moving the patio furniture into the shed and the barbecue pit into the garage, raking leaves, pulling the last of the petunias and tilling the flower bed, raking leaves, cutting back the clematis vine, raking leaves.  We have a LOT of trees at our house.  Getting theses tasks done helps me feel prepared for the coming winter.  Self-actualization at it's best.

Watching the changing seasons also reminds me of what an awesome God we serve.  The preciseness of how things happen is amazing and makes me wonder how someone can see such things and not believe there is a God.  (I'm finally getting to the crickets of the title.)  Every year during the last week of July, crickets begin to sing my backyard.  At least we believe it's crickets.  We've never seen a single cricket, but that is what it sounds like.  My neighbor told me once they were tree frogs, but it's awfully dry in Utah for an amphibian.  Whatever it is, they start at dusk and sing all night long.  I wish there was a way to record it for you to hear.  They are really loud!  But, it is such a pleasant sound.  A sound associated with the end of summer.  They will be here singing until early September.  And, just as suddenly as they came, they're gone.  We won't hear them until the last week of July next year.  You can set your clock by it.

Isn't God good?  Just like He promised Noah in Genesis 8:22 after the flood, "as long as the earth endures, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night will never cease."

  

Speaking Starbucks

I don't like coffee. Never have unless you count my mammaw's, which was as sweet as southern sweet tea and about 75% milk. Ironically, growing up it was my job to make the coffee in the morning. Pretty simple task really. I used a percolator. Put water in the pot, coffee in the basket, and plug it in. Folger's was the brand of choice in the Pope household.

In the "olden days" people made their coffee at home. Picking up coffee on the way to work didn't happen often. When it did, it meant stopping in at the 7-Eleven and buying a cup that probably had been sitting there for a while. Strong stuff to be sure.

Knowing all this means you can understand how overwhelmed I feel in a Starbucks. What's a barista? (Italian for bartender) What size is venti, small...medium...large? Caramel, vanilla, mocha; dark roast, medium roast; Jamaica Blue Mountain, Panama Paso Ancho? Do I want a shot of something in my beverage? Do I want nonfat, whipped cream, an espresso, a latte? Evidently, you can even order hot drinks by temperature. All of this comes at you in rapid staccato at full volume with lots of impatient people waiting in line behind you. It makes me want to run screaming from the place.

Why go to Starbucks you ask. My daughter lives in Seattle and has bought into the local trend that you must go into a Starbucks at least once a day, so we go there often when I visit. Ironically, she also doesn't like coffee. But evidently you can still be a true Seattleite if you have tea or raspberry hot chocolate in your Starbucks cup. She is so patient to walk me through everything each time we go in. Last week, I did it all by myself--a tall, nonfat hot chocolate with a shot of raspberry, hold the whipped cream! She was so proud.

Wait! Wasn't it just yesterday that I heard, "my do it, mommy," and was so proud when she got the hang of drinking from a sippy cup?

Metaphorically Speaking...

You might be surprised to learn that I am a bit of a "Trekkie." Mostly for self-preservation. It was either learn to enjoy the episodes or watch television by myself, since Tommy has been a huge fan since college. He actually used to schedule classes so that he could be home in time to watch the original Star Trek episodes. After all, you never knew what alien creature Captain James T. Kirk was going to battle in order to save the Federation.

Dathon and Picard

One of his favorite episodes is actually from Star Trek, The Next Generation. "Darmok" aired September 30, 1991 (Stardate 45047.2). In that episode, Captain Jean Luc Picard and his crew meet with an alien race known as the Children of Tama. Although the ship's translators could make their words comprehensible, their speech wasn't, because it was entirely structured around metaphor and allusions to their myths. Noting this, the Tamarian Captain Dathon kidnapped Picard and marooned them both on a world where they could face a common enemy. Over the course of their struggles, Picard was able to learn and understand the Tamarian language, paving the way towards greater understanding between the Tamarians and the Federation.

I, however, thought it was dumb. Nobody speaks that way was my argument. Then I thought about phrases our family uses that no one else would understand and realized the premise isn't as dumb as I originally thought. Yes, I was wrong. If I said to you, "don't do a McDonald's job," or "let's eat at 'ney's," or "the drum room," or "wake up; do math" you probably wouldn't have any idea what I was talking about. But, Lindsay or Matt or Tommy or I would know exactly what I meant.

We do bring our experiences, history, personalities, and culture into our communication. And, that's a good thing.  It brings us closer when we remember how those metaphors came to be.  What about you?  Any metaphors your family uses?

"For I know the plans I have for you...

In my last post, I mentioned my March 31 retirement and promised a bit more on that. Four months isn't too long to wait to fulfill a promise, is it? Both retirement and this summer's 40-year high school reunion offered me opportunity for reflection. How in the world did I get from leaving Texas City High School in 1972 to retiring in Utah in 2012?

When I graduated high school, I knew I wanted to attend college. But, I really didn't have a particular field of study in mind. Business? Education? Nursing? I'd like to say that I spent much time in prayer over what to do. However, I don't remember doing that. Just sort of filled out college applications and decided on business as a major. Then I changed schools and majors. Still not much prayer involved. This time it was journalism. That decision was driven primarily by Tommy, my then boyfriend and now husband. He was attending the University of Texas, so I transferred there. And he thought business wasn't the best major, so I switched to journalism. I was editor of my high school newspaper, so this wasn't completely ridiculous. I graduated with a Bachelor of Journalism degree in 1975, two weeks before I married Tommy and we reported for his first Air Force assignment to Del Rio, Texas. And the journalism degree got put on the back burner. No newspaper or TV station there.

We moved to Utah in 1980, and I went to work as a secretary in a local college. The Air Force took us to Germany for three years and back to Utah in 1988, where I returned to the same college as a secretary in a different department. I loved both those jobs and was content. Then, out of the blue, I was offered a job with the Utah-Idaho Southern Baptist Convention in September of 1990. My pastor and good friend had taken a job there earlier in the year, and he mentioned my journalism degree to the Executive Director of the convention. Turns out, the convention was in need of someone to edit the newspaper. I agonized over what to do. Made a pros and cons list. And turned down the job. I loved the job at the college and the people I worked for. But, the minute I hung up the phone, I knew saying no was a mistake. So, I called back and accepted the position.

For 19 years, I was blessed to work in Christian ministry, 12 years full-time with the state convention; and; after a short break, 7 years part-time with the Salt Lake Baptist Association. I did the same job in both places, Business Services Director and Editor of the paper. Fancy titles for paying the bills and putting together a newsletter.  All because of a journalism degree I thought I'd never use.

UISBC and SLBA coworkers

God knew how to get me from high school to retirement. Even when I was too self-absorbed to ask, God directed every step to bring me to exactly where He wanted me to be. Jeremiah 29:11 tells us that God has a plan for us. I am so thankful that He guided me to mine. And grew my faith. And blessed me beyond measure.

I can't wait to see what He has in store for me in retirement!

My Sweet Husband

March was a CRAZY, BUSY month.  I retired March 31 (more on that in later blogs).  My replacement started March 12 so she could have some one-on-one training before I left.  Being the OCD person I am, I wanted everything to be perfect for her. And, yes I realize that is impossible; but I still wanted her to have the best experience possible in the start of her new job.  So, I put together a handbook of instructions.  Being the procrastinator I am, I didn't start this until late February.  Get the picture?  Working in the office six hours a day--then coming home and spending four to five hours creating pages for this handbook.  That didn't leave much time for anything else.

Here's where my sweet husband comes in.  He never uttered a word of complaint about having to eat dinner out most nights or having to eat leftovers.  He ignored the ever growing stack of laundry and even washed a few loads for me.  He endured an unkempt home.  And spent nights watching TV alone while I was in my basement office typing away.  All this was plenty to earn him kudos in my book, but it gets better.

I came home one day to discover that he had put out all my Easter decorations and even set the table with an Easter theme.  I was so touched.  (But I did also have a moment of "who are you and what did you do with Tommy.")

A couple of days later I came home and he had gone to Pottery Barn and purchased spring covers for our throw pillows, gone to Pier One and purchased forsythia branches and a beautiful vase to showcase them, and decorated the living room for spring.  I think I'll keep this guy around.

The following week he went to the grocery store (partially for self-preservation).  He bought cheese for himself.  I don't like cheese, so it doesn't bother me if we run out. But he also bought fresh fruit, which I love, and things to make sandwiches and drinks and chocolate.  I'll DEFINITELY keep him around.

I'm bragging to my friends and coworkers about how sweet he is and how much I appreciate what he's doing for me.  Here's the kicker.  The last special sweet thing.

The morning of my party, Tommy told me he was going to the shooting range with a friend from church.  I stayed home and did a bit of cleaning.  A little while later, the doorbell rang.  As I came downstairs to answer it, I could hear a baby crying and wondered who was at my door with a baby.  I opened the door--and there was my grandson, Carter, sitting on the step in his car seat!  Tommy had gone to the airport to get the kids.  He and they were sitting in the car at the street filming my reaction to finding Carter at my door.  Of course, it was tears of joy.

Unbeknownst to me, my boss had arranged for my kids to fly in and attend my retirement party.  Tommy knew I would want the house to be nice for company coming.  All my friends and coworkers knew this and understood why he'd been so sweet all month.  And no one spilled the beans!  Not to imply he isn't sweet all the time.  But this was really special.  I love this man.

A Little Bit of This, A Little Bit of That....

Manor Market is just down the street from Lindsay (my daughter).  It's about the size of a 7-Eleven.  We pass it nearly every time we leave her house, as it sits on the corner of a fairly busy intersection.  Sometimes we stop for a drink or for her to get gas.  It always brings a smile to my face when we do.

Eclectic doesn't even begin to describe this place!  You name it; they sell it.  You can buy "freshly made" sandwiches, beer kegs, wood for your fireplace, lottery tickets, disposable phones, snacks, maps--the list is endless.  And, there is no rhyme or reason as to how it's shelved.  Last time we stopped, they had potato chips and motor oil on the same aisle.  Just trying to maneuver through the store is incentive to stick your diet.  Not only are the aisles filled to overflowing, they are very narrow.  As you can see from the picture, merchandise spills out the front doors onto the sidewalk and even hangs from one door.  The other door (on the right in the photo) displays photos of anyone who has bounced a check in the store.  Not exactly how you want to earn your fifteen minutes of fame!

It makes me smile just thinking of Manor Market. And who doesn't appreciate something to smile about on a beautiful fall afternoon?

Combat Croquet

About 10 or 12 years ago Tommy and Matt tweaked the game of croquet and dubbed it "combat croquet."  We have a very hilly backyard.  They designed the course so that most wickets are on the edge of a hill, which makes it very difficult to get the ball through the wicket without rolling it downhill.  Their way of thinking (and the battle cry) is "anybody can play croquet on level ground."  Then they added two extra wickets that come with monopoly-style "chance" cards--everything from "lose a turn" to "one free hit of another player's ball" to "take an extra turn."  Oh, and you play with two croquet sets.
Just about every year, we have a group of people over for dinner and then a game of combat croquet.  And each year, we try to add a few "newbies" to the mix.  We hosted the combat croquet evening last Monday.  It had been several years since we'd done so.  Everyone had a great time!  The pictures hardly do it justice, but you'll get the idea.

We start with dinner (on a level surface).

Then the fun begins!



Choosing colors.



Behind the fence.



Battling back up the hill.



Levels of the hill.



In the rough.

 

And where are the ladies, you ask.  We know better than to get in the way of men in competition.  We sit back, relax, visit, and watch the guys try harder to keep someone else from winning than trying to win the game. 

Surprises

You've heard this joke, haven't you?  One of the nice things about getting old is that you can hide your own Easter eggs.  Something similar happened to me this year.  Although, I'm certainly not old and it wasn't Easter eggs, but flowers.

When the snow finally melted off my front flower bed in May, five small green stems poked their heads through the dirt reaching for the sun.  I remembered planting bulbs last fall.  But, for the life of me, I had no idea what kind or why.  You see, I have a black thumb when it comes to gardening; so I always plant the same thing.  Petunias.  They grow well here, don't require much upkeep, provide plenty of color for the front of the house, and are hearty enough to survive my touch.  These were definitely NOT petunias.

I watched and waited hoping for a clue.  The stems grew taller and taller.  No buds.  Still taller--still no buds.  June gave way to July.  Finally, long slender buds formed.  And took forever to open.  Two weeks later, when they finally did, lo and behold--stargazer lilies!!

And it all came back to me! Last year after my mom died, two dear friends gave me a basket of the lilies.  They had no idea that stargazer lilies were my mom's favorite flower.  I enjoyed them in the pot until all the blossoms were gone then transplanted them to the front flower bed.  It's the only place in my yard that gets direct sun, which is what the little tag in the pot said these particular flowers needed.

Somtimes being forgetful can bring surprises like finding Easter eggs you hid yourself.  And, sometimes forgetfulness brings wonderful blessings.  The surprise of a beautiful flower.  The memory of my fantastic mom.  The thoughtfulness of two special friends.  God is so good!

The Passing of an Era

Did you watch the final launch of a space shuttle?  It was an almost flawless launch--only one brief stop of the countdown.  Spectacular, even after 30 years!

As I watched, I reflected on what an integral part of my life space exploration and travel has been.  You see, I grew up in Texas City, Texas.  Less than 20 miles from the Johnson Space Center.  I remember the race against the Russians to be the first to launch a man into space and the palpable disappointment when Yuri Gagarin blasted off on April 12, 1961.  (Coincidentally, Tommy's 9th birthday.)  Alan Shepard followed on May 5, 1961.  Sooooo close.  Can you believe that was 50 years ago?

The space program progressed from Mercury to Gemini to Apollo missions.  Each time there was a launch, our school teachers would bring a television to class so we could watch.  Small--probably 12" screens--with a grainy, black and white picture.  The rabbit ears had to be positioned just so in order for us to even get that.  Yet, the entire class would be riveted to the picture.  I was in the second grade when John Glenn blasted off the first time.  History in the making.  And, I got to watch!

We took several field trips to see "Mission Control" in my later years of elementary school.  I doubt I was as impressed as I should have been.  Mostly it was a day out of the classroom.  Although it was cool when the lights that tracked a space flight's path were turned on for us. Yet, every time I see mission control featured in a movie or a television program, it takes me back.  How many people can say they've actually been there?

Where you were July 20, 1969 when Neil Armstrong took "one small step for mankind; one giant leap for mankind"?  I was sitting in my boyfriend's family room once again riveted to the television (this time a color picture).  Only eight years from the first manned launch to putting a man on the moon.  Wow!

Before he reported for active duty with the Air Force, Tommy's spent a year working for McDonnell Douglas designing crew procedures for the space shuttle.  That was in 1974.  Just seven years later, Space Shuttle Columbia launched.  April 12, 1981.  We were living in Utah, home of Thiokol (now ATK) who makes the solid rocket boosters used to launch the shuttle into orbit.  Once again riveted to the television and living near an integral part of the program.

Let's not forget the Hubble telescope or the twin Mars exploration rovers or the Cassini spacecraft that orbited Saturn.  Between 1998 and 2000, three separate launches carried space station modules into space to later be connected so men could live there.  Enormous technological advances have come as a result of the space program.  I read somewhere that most watches today have more computer technology in them than the first space modules did.

And now, it's over.  Johnson Space Center employees 3,000 scientists, engineers, and support staff.  Many will lose their jobs.  A high school friend who has worked at NASA for 23 years said today was a very emoi\tional day.  She just felt empty.  Layoff notices are expected at ATK as well.  How sad.

Hopefully, this won't be the end of our space exploration.  As my friend said, "the sky's the limit."  I hope we find a way to continue to explore the final frontier--to continue "to go where no one has gone before."

Freedom

July 4th has become my second favorite holiday (Christmas is the first in case you wondered).  Hometown parades, picnics, the first homemade ice cream of the season, fellowship with friends, city fireworks shows, and great colors to decorate around.  OK, that last one is pretty lame. But, I do enjoy the colors on my white porch railing; and it was cool to see how many people dressed in some combination of red, white, and blue for church today.

And how cool to see flags flying on homes and businesses around town!  What a reminder of the freedoms we enjoy in this great country--to speak our mind, to worship as we desire, to bear arms, just to name a few.  In the busyness of the day, let's not forget those who fought to make sure we had--and continue to enjoy--those freedoms.  They were bought at a great price.

There is another freedom we should remember and for which we should be especially thankful.  Not just on July 4th but year round.  That is freedom from an eternity in hell.  That, too, comes at a great price.  “For God loved the world so much that he gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life." John 3:16 (NLT)

We sang Stuart Townsend's, "How Deep the Father's Love for Us" in church this morning.  It is a favorite of mine.  These verses make me cry every time we sing it.

Behold the Man upon a cross,

My sin upon His shoulders.

Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice,

Call out among the scoffers.

It was my sin that held Him there,

Until it was accomplished.

His dying breath has brought me life,

I know that it is finished.

Not the nails, but my sin held Christ on the cross!  He willingly endured the most horrible of deaths so that I might enjoy eternity in heaven.  Amazing grace and costly freedom, indeed.

My Three Fathers....

There are three very special fathers in my life.  First, my dad, Arlon Ray Pope.  I used to love watching The Waltons; and, recently, I've been watching reruns of the show.  After my dad died, watching Ralph Waite as John Walton really reminded me of my dad.  Still does.



Ray Pope

Ralph Waite

They don't really look a whole lot alike. I think it's more the character of the two men.  John Walton was a quiet man of simple tastes.  He was wise.  He was gentle with his children, disciplined with love, and taught by example.  He worked hard to provide for his family.  He stood up for what was right.  My dad was all those things as well.  He left us way too soon, and I still miss him terribly 12 years after he died.

Second, is my wonderful husband, Tommy.  He is such a great dad!  He taught both kids how to ride their bikes.  He helped with homework and used to keep the kids entertained in the car by creating intricate math problems for them to solve in their head.  He introduced all of us to the theatre--even taking each of us individually to see The Phantom of the Opera. (I think he's seen it about six times.)  He taught the kids it's more important to make memories than to buy things and worked hard to create special memories with both Lindsay and Matt.  He has modeled how to live a Christian life and set an example of serving in his church.  And, he prayed with both Lindsay and Matt to receive Christ as their Savior.

And finally, my son, Matt.  He will welcome his first child in November.  How can it be that my baby is going to have a baby of his own?  Wasn't it just yesterday that we brought him home from the hospital?  But, I have no doubt that Matt will be an awesome dad.  He is strong in his faith.  He has a wonderful wife.  He's had an excellent role model in his own dad.  I can't wait to watch it happen.

Thank you, Lord, for these special fathers.  What a blessing they've been in my life.



Reflections

Yesterday was our 36th wedding anniversary.  Quite an accomplishment, if I do say so myself!  Tommy and I always play the "what were you doing at this time the day we were married" game throughout the day.  It's good to reflect back and remember that exciting time.

We also reflect on previous anniversary celebrations and milestones in our lives.  He was in Spokane for winter survival training our first anniversary.  Little did we know what a foreshadowing of things to come that was.  Between a military career and a job with the airlines, we've probably been apart as many times as we've been together on May 24th.  We've learned celebrations don't have to be on a particular day to be special.

We've taken some wonderful trips around our anniversary--San Francisco twice, once driving the Pacific Coast Highway south and once driving it north; Hawaii to celebrate 30 years; and Charleston to name a few.  Our kids and a good friend feted us with a fabulous surprise party for our 25th anniversary!  But, we've also had quiet evenings at home or simply gone out to dinner.  Just yesterday, we spent the day installing the mirror and towel holder in the half bath we've been remodeling and watched American Idol.  Pretty boring day, but we've learned celebrations don't have to be fancy to be special.

Sometimes there are gifts, sometimes not.  We usually buy something for the house or that we can use together.  A beautiful mantle clock for our second anniversary.  A new grill one year.  A hot tub for number 25 (not something silver, I know, but we LOVE it).  We've learned it's better to make memories than buy things.

As I reflected on our marriage throughout the day, another thought came to mind.  In 1967, I went with a friend to First Baptist Church, Texas City, to listen to a report from the youth group about their recent mission trip.  The excitement about what they had done was amazing!  I remember thinking, "I want to be a part of something like that" and asked my mom and dad if I could move my church membership to FBC.  Making this change meant they would have to drive me across town to church rather then letting me walk around the corner.  Yet, they agreed to the change.  I became active in the FBC youth group, and two years later went on my first mission trip to McAllen, Texas, where we led Vacation Bible School.

Want to guess who I met on that mission trip?  Yep, Tommy.  We became friends; and two years later we began dating.  Four years after that we married.  Coincidence?  I don't think so.  Jeremiah 29:11 says, "For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

All those years ago, God spoke to the heart of a young baby Christian, who didn't even know how to ask for His direction, and moved her to the place where she would grow in His word and meet the wonderful Christian man who would become her soul mate.  We've learned God is faithful and truly does direct our paths.

Patriotism

Twice in the last week I've heard Taps playing as the sun sets.  That lone trumpet sounding the end of another day is so moving--even if you're standing in Lowe's parking lot as I was.  It made me wonder if military people are more patriotic than others, or if we just have more opportunities to express our love for our country.

Tommy reported for active duty with the Air Force two weeks after we married and retired from the Reserves 23 years later.  All 36 years of our marriage have been spent near an Air Force base, and we have been so blessed by our military life.  Friends all over the world.  Opportunity to live in Germany and travel throughout Europe.  Visiting East Berlin before the wall came down.  Minds opened by living among different cultures and people groups.  Children who can make friends easily and quickly.  Standing in the hot sun to see countless air shows and being wowed when the Thunderbirds perform--even after seeing them a bazillion times.

Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of negatives to a military life.  Tommy missed 17 months of the first two years of Lindsay's life while on a remote assignment to Korea and attending school in Nevada.  Crazy schedules!  Some weeks we communicated via notes on the kitchen counter, because we were never home and awake at the same time.  A dangerous profession. We've lost friends to airplane crashes, which always brings the, "it could have been me," thoughts to the forefront of you mind for a bit.

Even with the difficult times, I wouldn't trade our military life for anything.  It's difficult to put into words what it means.  Tears when airplane passengers remain seated and applaud as returning soldiers are allowed to deplane first. Standing when our flag passes by, singing the national anthem with my hand on my heart, stopping what I'm doing when Taps is played--all remind me of what a great country we live in.  And what privileges it provides.  And the cost to keep it that way.

Country Girl in the Big City

I am blessed to be able to travel frequently and love seeing new places. We often stay in nice hotels as a special treat. Last month we traveled to Las Vegas and stayed at Mandalay Bay. It is gorgeous--and HUGE! There are actually three (or is it four?) hotels within the resort in addition to an aquarium, the requisite casino, a theatre (where we saw The Lion King), and multiple restaurants and shops.

Our room was a king suite with TWO bathrooms. Who needs two bathrooms in a hotel? The master bath had a flat screen TV mounted so you could see it from the giant soaker tub, and a phone. Who exactly does one call from the bathroom. The sitting area included leather couches, a desk, flat screen TV, and a bar. Robes and slippers were provided, and the armoir was as big as some closets I've seen. The "do not disturb" sign was electronic. You pressed a button in the room, and the words were illuminated on the sign outside your door. Can you see it in the lower left corner of the picture? There was even a doorbell! It's the yellow button in the center.

I most definitely felt like the country bumpkin coming to the big city. All I could think of was Gomer Pyle saying, "Golly" in that long, drawn out southern way. But, it sure was fun!

Birthday Blessings

March is my birth month. I love celebrating my birthday!!! It doesn't bother me one bit to admit that I turned 57 on March 5. Not doing so certainly doesn't change how old I am. Besides, you're only as old as you feel, right? Which makes me somewhere around 30. It's especially fun to spread the celebration out as long as possible, which was really the case this year.

My first well wishes came almost a week before my birthday on February 28th when a couple of ladies at church said "Happy Birthday" as I passed them in the hall. Tommy and I flew to Las Vegas Wednesday through Friday before the 5th to see "The Lion King." It's an awesome production, by the way. My son and daughter-in-law called the night before my birthday with a nice surprise (more on that below). Many people took the time to post birthday greetings on Facebook. I got several calls on my actual birthday. My boss took me to lunch the Monday after. Cards came in the mail for a couple of weeks. I had lunch dates to celebrate with friends on the 11th and the 14th. And just this week, a surprise package arrived in the mail. All in all a very good birthday celebration lasting almost a month!

There were two extra-special gifts this year. First, Matt and Amber called the night before my birthday to say they had decided what to buy with some money I had given them and wanted to see what I thought. They then texted this picture to me and Tommy. What a special way to let us know our first grandchild was on the way. And, what a wonderful birthday present! This was the first birthday since my mom died, and I missed her annual call. Lindsay pointed out that perhaps God knew it would be tough not hearing from my mom, so He blessed me with another pretty great phone call. Isn't God good? And wasn't my daughter insightful?

Secondly, a friend sent this darling mug as a surprise. It says, "My idea of a good birthday is shopping for new shoes while wearing new shoes." I haven't seen her in over a year, and we don't talk except via Facebook posts. But she remembered how much I love shoes and took money from her budget and time from her busy schedule to buy this and ship it to me anonymously. That she would do that touched me more than I can say. It took me a good portion of the day and some searching on Facebook to figure out who sent it. Thank you again, Betsy.

My life is truly blessed--whether it's my birthday or not.

Maybe tomorrow......

Raise your hand if you procrastinate. I KNEW I wasn't alone!! It's true, I work better under pressure. But, that is probably because I put things off until I have no choice. The worst is when I put off a project or task because I think it's going to be difficult.

It gets bigger, and bigger, and bigger while I continue to do nothing. Instead of getting the task done, I worry over it for days before even beginning. Nine times out of ten, the task isn't nearly as hard as I imagined. So, I've wasted time, stressed for no reason, and still have to work under pressure. You'd think I would know better after 57 years. Obviously, this old dog isn't learning any new tricks.

Perhaps I should heed these words from Matthew 6:34, "Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don't get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes." (The Message)

Easier said than done, though.

Continuing to count...

In my valiant and sometimes successful effort to count blessings and not whine, here are a few more.

6) Heater repairman who was willing to work the broken furnace at my office into his schedule yesterday.
7) A friend who loaned me her sweater to wear until he got the work done.
8) The modern methods of communication that allowed me to easily let my boss know what was happening at the office even though he was in Atlanta.
9) Temperatures that were warmer than the previous week, which kept the pipes (and me) from freezing even though the furnace was out.
10) Sunshine on the snow.

Lesson Learned........Again

One of my biggest fears is being a negative person. You know, the type who always sees the bad in a situation and complains loudly about it. The glass half-empty team. Lately, I fear that describes me more often than not.

Just this morning, the sound of my neighbor snow blowing his driveway woke me at 5:45 (my alarm was set for 7). There I was tossing and turning and grumbling about not being able to get back to sleep. So, I gave in and got up and decided to go ahead and clear our driveway. What a treat I had when I stepped out the door! The full moon sitting just above the horizon in all its glory. (No this is not an actual picture of what I saw; it came from Google. But, it's close.) Thank you, God, for that blessing.

The second thing I noticed was that the newspaper delivery person had driven in the driveway and packed down the snow. More grumbling on my part. "Now there will be places where I can't get the snow off, so it will take days for that snow to melt, and he/she didn't even toss the paper on the porch, just dropped it in the snow, good thing I saw it before running over it with the snow blower," etc... We had rain last night before it got cold enough to snow, so there was ice under the snow on the driveway. Our driveway slopes toward the street. Because of the ice, I had difficulty getting the snow blower up the driveway (even though it's self-propelled). My feet kept slipping--until I stood in the lines of packed snow from the newspaper delivery person's car. Thank you, Lord, for your provision.

"And my soul shall be joyful in the Lord." Psalm 35:9 Thank you, God, for the reminders. Once again, I set out to count my blessings rather than grumble. Here are a few:

1) A snow blower to make clearing the driveway easier.
2) A neighbor who cleared the sidewalks in front of my house as well as his.
3) Good tires on my car that keep me from sliding on the icy roads.
4) A roof over my head, hot chocolate, and warm gloves on a cold morning.
5) The winter wonderland of tree limbs coated in snow with the sun shining through them. It looked like a forest of glistening rock candy.

My glass is definitely half-full. Perhaps I'll jot down blessings here from time to time and watch as it fills to overflowing.