Author: lbuth0511de28fc

  •     Have you noticed the stunningly beautiful full moon the past several nights–and early mornings? Astronomers could tell us why the moon seems closer and fuller this time of year, but not me. I remember Midwestern October moons glowing yellow or orange. I used to think they looked almost close enough to touch. Here in the Sacramento area, at least this year, it's knock-your-eye-out- white. I love full moons, and I'm always a bit sad to see them wane.

       I stood and marveled at it the other night. Not for the first time I thanked God for the orderliness of the moon and the sun. Every morning the sun comes up–and sets every evening. Every night the moon rises, even when we can't see it. No matter how crazy everything seems to be in the world, there they are, showing up on schedule. Somehow knowing that reminds me there's more going on in the world than the stuff that makes the news … or even in my life. 

       I find it totally amazing that astronomers can predict the exact time of the rising and setting of the sun, the moon, and the planets–and the phases of the moon. Since the moon afffects the tides, they know the exact time when the tide will come in and when it will go out. Yes, I know it's science, but nevertheless, the absolute predictability of all this blows me away.

        My mind always goes to the first chapter of Genesis:

    And God said, "Let there be lights in the expanse of the sky to separate the day from the night, and let them serve as signs to mark seasons and days and years, and let them be lights in the expanse of the sky to give light on the earth. And it was so. God made two great lights–the greater light to govern the day and the lesser light to govern the night.       He also made the stars … And God saw that it was good.              –Genesis 1:14-16    

       Ever since, in every continent on earth, people have been looking up into the expanse of the sky. They stare at those two great lights–and at the stars–and say some variation of what I've been saying, "Wow! Look at that!"

        Don't miss the sky show. Take it as reassurance that no matter how bad the predictions on all sides, the world will go on. How do I know? We have the sun in the morning and the moon at night, that's how.

        And behold, it is very good!

        Lenore

        Your comments welcomed!

        

  •     Quick, now! No time to think! If you had five minutes to evacuate your home, what would you want to take with you?

        Did you answer, "The people I love?" Me, too. In California we're in fire season most of the year, especially when we're in drought as we are now. We've seen the news reports. We know people just like us can be threatened by raging infernos that can leap across valleys and eight-lane freeways, or by floods that wash away neighborhoods. We all dread even thinking that we could be caught in a scenario like that.

        But it's good if we do so once in awhile, just to help us stay balanced in how we view life. Think of the many individuals who have faced such disasters. We see them afterward, when they're interviewed. They all echo the same thought: "Our family is safe and that's all that matters. Somehow we'll get through this." 

        If that's true for adults, how much more for children. Whatever may be going on in your family,  remember one thing: To a child, Mom and Dad are security. So even if your family income drops, don't tie yourself up in knots with fear and guilt. Don't imagine that you're cheating your children.  Your kids look at you and feel safe. That matters more than the extras.

        Maybe you're waking up in the night, worrying about this economic news or possible lay-offs where you work. It helps to turn your thoughts back to what really matters. You may be living in tough–or tougher–times right now, and you don't see the end yet. Tempers may fray, moods may drop, the family may get tired of eating beans. But if you know the people you love most are okay, give thanks. If everyone is well, give thanks and celebrate! You possess everything that matters most. 

        After all, if "things" brought happiness, everyone who's rich and famous would be ecstatic … all the time. I haven't noticed that's true, have you?

        So look into the faces of those you love, who love you back, and be at peace.

        Remember, life itself is the gift! 

        Lenore    

        Your comments welcomed!  

      

        

  •     The other day on a supermarket run I observed a mother with her three children, about eight to twelve years old. The kids were reading labels on cans and using a calculator. This excited trio laughed a lot as they compared notes. I heard their mom ask them, "So which one is the best value?" "How many servings per container?" "Which one is the healthiest, do you think?"

        A couple of aisles over we were next to each other again. This time she reminded them, "If we buy this item, we won't be able to buy that one we picked before. Which one do you think is the best choice for us–and why?"

        I was tempted to ask this mother whether she home-schools her children, but I didn't want to interrupt them. Those kids seemed familiar with their friendly competition–and they were keeping track of what they were purchasing. Perhaps they had been playing this game for years.

        I don't know this mom. Obviously, this kind of shopping takes more time, but I'll bet it pays dividends way beyond understanding math. Probably those kids don't spend much time complaining about some food item they don't have. After all, they're aware of the family food budget. They also know how much every food item cost and they participated in what was purchased.  

        Best of all, this mother is preparing her youngsters to live on their own one day. They're learning how to evaluate options and make wise buys on a budget. That's good training for spending decisions in other parts of life. 

        You might call it another of those gifts that keeps on giving … for life. 

        Happy parenting!

        Lenore

        What do you think? Your comments welcomed!

        

        

  •     I found out today that my dear friend's husband died last night, after a long battle with that dreaded enemy, cancer. My heart aches for her. These two forged the kind of marriage everyone wants, where love shone from their eyes and sparkled their personalities. A love that infused every day of their forty-four years together with certainty and strength, and brimmed over into the lives of their children and grandchildren, as well as all who know them.

        We've been friends for years, even though separated by hundreds of miles. Our get-togethers have been infrequent, but we never need to get reacquainted. We pick up as if we just saw each other last week. Now these last months I've been reading the blog of their "journey" since his diagnosis. Her open, honest accounts have moved my heart and enriched my life, broadened my understanding.

        These two shared a bedrock, joyful, living faith in Jesus, too. All along this has glued them together and empowered their days, but especially these last months. They've treasured each moment together and simply lived with gusto, making memories at every opportunity. They've prayed for strength and peace, of course. But they've also prayed that somehow they could be a blessing to the people around them. That included their family and friends who came from far and near, caring Hospice nurses, and former co-workers, friends and fellow Christians who've been bringing them meals for months. In more recent times, a faithful group of male friends have rotated staying overnight, keeping watch, so my friend and their family could sleep without need for watchfulness.  

        This good, loving man died at home, surrounded by his dear ones, as he wished and they wished. As they had prayed, he had a peaceful going home to Jesus. Their young grandchildren had been told that their adored grandfather soon would be leaving earth. A few nights ago one of their beautiful preschooler granddaughters prayed that her "Papa" soon would have fun playing with Jesus and that her "Nana" wouldn't be too sad without him.

        So this day is sad for me, but it's also glad. I think how differently this would have played out if this family had only their own strength to draw on through this heart-wrenching journey. And how much more devastating it would be for them to think of this much-loved man's life as simply  … "over."

        Christians cherish the sure knowledge that death is not the end, but simply one's last breath on earth. You'll find that truth many times in the Bible, especially in the New Testament. I don't know who coined the term "the Gospel in a nutshell," but here it is:  

    God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.                                                            –John 3:16

        Every death reminds us that life is fragile–and precious. Each morning we open our eyes provides ample reason to rejoice! Let's hold our loved ones close and speak the words in our hearts … while we can.

        Let's make every day count!

        Lenore

        Your comments truly are welcomed!

  •      Fall is in the air, even here in northern California. Mornings come with a chill, even though a few hours later everyone peels off layers. I, for one, am not ready for long pants and sleeves, for jackets and real shoes.

        No matter. Soon it will be October, and tomorrow we'll be hanging Christmas wreaths.

        Isn't that just like life? Days and months gallop by while we're not looking. Then we notice … the toddler is a high school freshman. That letter we never got around to writing? Too late now.

        Sorry if I sound like a nag, but I'm nagging myself. You see, I'm one of those "busy" people, and I love it. Who wants to sit around wondering what to do with oneself? But once in awhile I realize with fresh clarity how easy it is to miss what matters most. 

        So here's the word for today, a gentle reminder for us all. Let's pay attention to the day we're living and revel in it. Let's look around at the people in our lives and ponder what they mean to us. Let's open our eyes and really see.

        No matter who we are, our lives consist of the sum total of those small moments. Each one counts. Sometimes we're captivated by the rich and famous in the media, but they really don't affect any of our lives. Come to think of it, that's a relief. Now we don't have to invest so much energy in trying to be "memorable." We already are.

        Let's savor the joy … while it's here.

        Lenore

        What do you think? Your comments welcomed!

  •     The rose. Did God ever make a more perfect flower? I've loved them ever since I was a child walking along country roadsides in Minnesota and stopping to inhale the wild pink roses that grew so freely.

        (Are they still allowed to grow there? Or have they been sprayed out of existence because they were somebody's weed? I do not know the answer.)

        So it's logical that from the beginning of our marriage we've had rosebushes. We're centered on a few for now and my husband tends them with loving care. Every now and then he comes in with an armload of gorgeous roses, which are growing in wooden half-barrels on our patio. (Yes, it works just fine.) Many named varieties have come and gone, for one reason or another. This one is a Grandiflora named "Gemini," which we both love. It's  beautiful, healthy and rRose for blog. 2. 9.08eliable. Perfect form, strong stems, shiny leaves. Pleasing fragrance and lovely in all seasons. Long-lasting in a vase.

    This would be the perfect rose if … if  it just didn't come equipped with those pesky thorns! Long, spiky thorns that easily pierce through skin. Short, fine thorns you don't even notice, but they embed themselves in finger tips.

        Ah, but this Gemini probably is our favorite rose of all the roses we've grown.  We've decided its beauty makes up for the nuisance factor. Isn't that a perfect analogy for life?

        Long ago I came across a quote that stopped me in my tracks. It still does. Maybe you, too, will find yourself mulling this over for awhile. Sorry, I don't know who said it, but the calligraphy was set up just this way.

    We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or

    Rejoice

    because thorn bushes have roses.  

     

        Whatever may be going on in our lives, here's to focusing on our "roses" and overlooking the "thorns."

        Lenore

        Your comments welcomed!

  •     I don't know about you, but some of the mood from the commemorations of 9/11 still echo with me. Newscasters talked about the new memorial to be built, probably before next year's anniversary. I actually think they should leave it as it is. The vast emptiness of Ground Zero  fittingly commemorates what happened that day: loss. Loss of so many, many lives. Loss of our naive assumption that within the shores of the U.S.A., somehow we were guaranteed safety. That false security can't be recaptured, any more than those who died so tragically can rise from the dead.

        Emptiness is what overwhelms us in the face of loss … and that doesn't go away. Nobody ever "gets over it" when a loved one dies. When that individual's physical presence is gone, something precious is gone from our lives. In the beginning, aching grief deafens us with its roar. Eventually it may settle into a sort of background noise, but it remains with us. 

        Really, that's appropriate. Our remembering and missing those individuals demonstrates the  lasting memorial in our hearts. When we remember, we celebrate their life and how they enriched  our own. 

       I probably think of my mom and dad more often now than I did when they were alive. Before, we were separated by miles, but they were there. As the years go on, more and more I appreciate who they were. I realize how much of who I am is because of who they were. I wish I could tell them that. …

        Today I attended the 90th birthday celebration of a friend. She's a writer, too, and still writing, still having her poetry published. About one hundred friends and relatives came from far and near to celebrate this smiling, gracious woman of deep faith. I thought how wonderful it was that she was alive to hear and be blessed by our words of love and praise. 

        For not one of us knows whether we'll make it through the day … any day. Neither can we predict how long our spouses or our children will live. Even if we live alone there's someone we would miss if they were gone, someone who makes us smile and go on in a happier mood.

        Are we telling them so? Do they know they matter to us?

        When we think it, we need to say it. Believe me, I know the truth of those words. Several times I've postponed doing just that. To this day I regret that I didn't simply say the words. While I was waiting for the "right time" and the "right words," friends and family members died. I know now I didn't need eloquence or perfect timing. Those dear ones would have loved to hear my awkward stammering, because–and this is the point–they were alive to hear it. 

        Right now I can think of a couple of folks like that who would be blessed by my words or by a note from me. How about you? The good news is that so long as we–and they–keep breathing, it's not too late.

        We may not have another chance. Tomorrow may never come. …

        Here's to saying it now!

        Lenore  

    Your comments welcomed!

  •     Today is the anniversary of 9/11, that unbelievable day in our Nation's history. On this day  television newscasts and talk shows replay the images and sounds of our national anguish. We're drawn to them, as we were on September 11, 2001, and through the sorrowful days that followed.

        What good does it do to remember? After all, no one has the power to rewrite one second of that day. But I for one, can't help feeling as if had dodged a bullet. 

        That's a bit over-dramatic, of course. But only a few weeks earlier a friend and I sat on the top floor of one of those Twin Towers, in the glass-walled Observation Tower. It was my first time in Manhattan. Our choral group (Bravo! Vancouver) had traveled from Washington state across the country to give a couple of concerts. New York City was our second stop.

        The first was Washington, D.C., where we sang for a large conference. Toward sunset we sat on the Capitol steps, in the balmy breezes of early evening, poised to watch the Fourth of July fireworks. No barriers. No fenced-off areas. If there were armed guards they were so unobtrusive we never noticed. There we were, thousands of us, prowling the grounds of the U.S. Capitol Building. Adults of all ages and economic levels, infants and children, and teens. Our complexions came in every hue, with accents to match. We mingled peaceably, smiling. By the time the serious fireworks were underway the predicted rains had begun. In minutes we were drenched, but we stayed, laughing, loving every minute of what we had viewed so often on TV.

        Next day we were off to New York, where we were to give another performance. My friend had been to New York many times because her son worked in New York. Nevertheless, during our free time she insisted we go to the Twin Towers, because "everyone needs to go up on top and just look out at least once."

       There we sat, knees pressed against the glass walls of the Observation floor at the very top of one of the Towers. A couple of smiling security guards quietly observed us. I walked around the roomy space, looking out in awe at the beauty of land and sea and sky. That impressed me far more than all the gleaming skyscrapers that crowded New York City's skyline. I flew home brimming over with thanks that I had the opportunity to be part of that trip.

        Who could have guessed we were nearing the end of life as we knew it? For days, weeks, months after 9/11, we Americans were watchful, fearful, as if waiting for "next time" to drop. Yet today is the seventh anniversary and nothing has. Think about that.

        How have we come safely through these past seven years? We may credit the Administration, or the learn-as-you-go Department of Homeland Security and all that came with it. We may reel off a long list of agencies and personnel and give credit where it's due. Yet every expert in every field tells us the best efforts by the best people remain insufficient. No agency, no amount of armed guards, can guarantee the safety of this Nation … nor of us as individuals.

        Experts remain confounded. For me, there's only one explanation. It is "'Not by might, not by power, but by my Spirit,"says the LORD of hosts."    (Zechariah 4:6)

        We could not be in better hands. Let's breathe a sigh of thanks.

        Here's to remembering what it means that we're Americans!

        Lenore

        Your comments welcomed!

     

  •     When our girls were growing up, Saturday was chores day, catch-up day. Oh, the groans! Oh, the complaining! Funny thing is, now these same daughters look back on those Saturday mornings as something good, even kinda fun. Wish I could have known that back then. Maybe I wouldn't have felt so much like the wicked witch of the North.

       Let's just say my husband and I liked the idea of the family team better than our children did. Ever been there? I kept thinking it should be easier and reading "How to" articles in search of the magic method. Never found it.   

       At our house what seemed to work best was me drawing up a list of jobs. Then the girls drew straws or guessed a number, or chose a number from a jar full of numbered slips. The winner got first dibs, then then the second chose, etc. In order to avoid a mutiny, each got to choose one chore, then we started over. More groans when someone got one of the least-favorite jobs, like cleaning the bathroom–and sometimes some trading went on. Then we'd put on the music (loud) from a Broadway show or a favorite movie, tunes with an "up" tempo. That quickly changed the mood. Soon our resident quartet would be singing, humming, and jiving to the beat–and so would their mom.

       It always helped to hold out a "carrot," the prospect of doing something fun afterward. So the sooner we wound up the work, the sooner we were out of there, and what we did changed over the years. Sometimes we'd fix a picnic lunch and go to the park or hit the Dairy Queen for some exotic creation. Sometimes we'd zero in on places where they could get rid of the allowances they were itching to spend. Often we'd head for the Place of Enchantment: our local public library. We'd emerge an hour or so later, each of carrying a stack of books to last us a week or so. Of course, our family included five females, so we  m-i-g-h-t go shopping.

        Like every parent, we often thought it would be easier–and more peaceful–just to do everything myself. Obviously, that was true. So why bother? My husband and I thought of it as preparation for life. We knew that one day our darlings would fly away on their own. Knowing how to cook and clean and do the laundry would come in handy. Beyond that, no job is fun at all times. Nevertheless, they'd need to stick with it and do good work or lose their jobs. We viewed our overall goal as getting them ready to live on their own … our lifetime gift to them. So we kept at it, believing, and praying for patience. 

        If that's where you are right now, hang in there. Just don't expect to hear a "thank you" for a few years. But you will. Oh, and by the way, eventually you will have a capable family team, and won't that be a treat?

        Here's to discovering the fun in working together!

        Lenore

        Your comments welcomed.

        

        

  •       Here we are In this second week of U.S. political conventions. Some say it amounts to a collective national agony we must suffer through every four years. Others label it a celebration of what makes us the United States of America.

        Count me in with the latter group, especially this year. History is playing out before us. No matter what the final result, for the first time we'll have either a black man or a woman in one of the top slots in this nation.

        As is routine in the good old USA  unless, God forbid, we witness another "first," all this will proceed with lots of noise, but no bloodshed. Nobody will mysteriously disappear. 

        No matter how it comes out, some of us will grit our teeth and get on with life. Others will celebrate and get on with life. It's the American way … and it is good.

        Despite (or maybe because of) the headlines and massive TV coverage, the process often feels disconnected from real life. We all know, to quote a well-worn cliche, "that's where the rubber meets the road."  And that's where we live … in homes, in communities that make up the states, which together make up the Nation.

        The election will be resolved, the inauguration pomp and ceremony will pass. Then what? Will you and I stand up for what's right and good where we are? Or will we focus on what bothers us and lapse into apathy, meanwhile muttering, "Oh, well, what can you do? We're all victims of the system!"

        Not true. Each one of us can do something in the place where we are. No matter where we live, no matter our age, no matter our education, our income or occupation, that's where we start, and we lace it up with prayer. 

        Each of us can vote and support elected officials and volunteers who are doing a good job. Those individuals mostly hear from persons with complaints. When we speak enouragement and thanks, our simple words will refresh tired spirits. 

        Each of us can volunteer, maybe for some job that seems insignificent. Later, for one reason or another, we may wonder why we opened our mouths. At that point we can grumble and give grudging duty. Or we can remind ourselves that each little bit counts toward the whole and cheerfully go forth.

        Each of us can write letters … to school board and local council members, to public officals, to our senators and representatives, our Governor, our President.

        Maybe you think one letter doesn't make a difference. Wrong. Years ago I heard a speaker from a company that makes products we all use every day. He detailed how his company evaluates letters and E-mails they receive, whether kudos or complaints. I've never forgotten the gist of what he said: "We're not much impressed by petitions, even when they have hundreds of signers. We discount form letters all repeating the same words, too. They may be sent by different individuals, but we toss them on the pile marked 'pressure group.'  

        "But when we get one–one–letter, maybe handwritten, maybe with mispellings, we know it comes straight from one individual who speaks out of personal experience or strong conviction. Those we designate 'high priority,' especially with letters. Our research indicates every letter represents anywhere from fifty to a couple of hundred individuals who didn't bother to take time and write. Such letters get a reading from company executives and are passed on to other departments. We think these writers help us keep a finger on the pulse of consumers."

        Come to think of it, we're all "consumers" and the same logic applies to everything from TV programming to the local school board. Just to be clear, I'm no shining example of perfection here. Too often I don't commend what I applaud. I don't write enough letters and try to avoid often-boring council meetings of one kind or another. Maybe you plead guilty, too.

        So let's take this time of national fervor as inspiration and make some changes. Each one of us can make a difference in our homes, in our churches, our communities, our Nation. 

        The place to start is with the basics … with what we look for and what we say to each other and to our children, our friends, our neighbors. One well-educated, well-traveled writer expressed  it up this way:  

    "Summing it all up, friends, I'd say you'll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious–the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse."

                                                                                        –Philippians 4:8, "The Message"

        Come to think of it, doesn't that describe the kind of person we'd like to have living next to us? Imagine kids growing up in families who live those principles, then going out as adults ready to support the good stuff. 

        You and I can't change the world, but we can change ourselves. We can change the tone of conversations within our own homes. We can be the ones who speak a good word at meetings and at our own workplaces, at checkout counters and school board meetings and in our churches. Before and during whatever we do, we pray. 

        It's our choice whether we will or not. Because this is the United States and each one of us gets to choose what we stand for. It's the American way … and it is good.

        Here's to giving thanks for what we so often take for granted. Let's celebrate it!

        Lenore

        Your comments welcomed.