“I am a sojourner…”

It was a loo-oo-oo-ng weekend. Hubby flew out of state to see his mom in the middle of the week, and I was here, trying to motivate our youngest, who is suffering with an extreme case of senioritis, and I was doing that among a myriad of other goings-on. And in the middle of all my personal chaos, I was blessed to have lunch with a newly-made friend. I really enjoy her company. We went to this restaurant that has been around forever. It is decorated in typical-tourist-Alaska style with rocks and bears and mining tools. But it is just such a fun place to hang around. The servers are genuine people. The menu is simple fare and I had the best BLT I have had in ages. It was a double-decker and the fries were to die for. They even left us an entire pot of coffee! What more could two gabbing women ask for?? Ha-Ha! And we were there for 3 and a half, gloriously uninterrupted, hours on a Saturday afternoon. We gabbed, we shared, we laughed; I really enjoyed myself. Oh, and we ate, too! LOL!

The hubby dragged himself in late this afternoon, after the airlines lost his luggage, and then found it again, and after he stopped at the auto supply store to get oil…and then he put oil in our son’s car…he was so tired. And tomorrow at some ungodly hour, which I will be sleeping through, he jets off again for a week of work away from home. With no respite in-between. We knew he’d be squeezing in his visit to his mom, but did not realize how tired he would be.

We are on the precipice of great change in our lives. Our parents are aging and are all at points where their health is not good – at all. We are making huge changes and altering many lives in just a few weeks. And helping to support family members facing their own issues. It seems like we are just waiting for the first domino to fall…and then the rest will follow suit.

We bought a house. Which my middle son told me was the first thing on our list. I guess it is a list. I had not thought of it that way. I read an article today about making lists in our lives to encourage our growth in faith. We need to add things to do, to make time to do all the important things. Things like praying. And reading Scripture. And actually going to church. We are all in different places in our journey to our forevers. My steps are just that – my steps. You may be leaps and bounds ahead of where I would like to be, or perhaps I can turn back and see you, trudging along behind me, making your way.

“I am a sojourner in the land; do not hide your commandments from me.”    Psalm 119:19 

This quote from Psalms stuck with me because I think it describes what we are going through. It is like we are all moving towards that goal – eternity – and many of us are much closer than others. Many of us have taken direct routes, while others of us have a very convoluted journey. Our family is a mixed bag of believers, non-believers; those who practice their faith and those who tolerate faith in their lives. And as a family, it feels like we are making decisions and checking things off our lists, making the pathway a little clearer. And I think that for the first time in my life, I am feeling the journey.

We wake to that alarm, we drink our coffee, we head out into the world. It is the daily grind. We get into traffic and make our way along. But every so often, something happens that makes you draw a quick breath and stop. And in that pause, you can feel the movement, the journey, right beneath your feet. Or within the pumping of the blood through your veins. Or in each breath you subsequently draw in. And in that next moment, the world is different. We sense it; we know it; but some of us refuse to recognize it in any real, and tangible, way. And when people refuse to acknowledge these pivotal moments, they react in sometimes odd ways.

Quite often, when we sense change coming, we react in anger, directed towards where all that movement is coming from. Sometimes people lash out at those they love, because they fear the changes, the movement, the momentum towards whatever it is they sense is coming.

And when we are dealing with our aging family members who are suffering disease, and all the effects on their bodies, minds, and souls, we can witness moments of lashing out and anger, which is brought on, I believe, through frustration. We have all seen images of little old ladies sitting around tables looking ready for a date, and none of them are speaking – they are staring off into their minds and their pasts. And sometimes you see others in nursing homes or in hospitals, who are yelling and angry at the world. We all react differently to changes in our world, our lives, our bodies, and our minds. It is part of our journey. We bought a house, to bring my mom home with us for the last section of her journey. And we’re all a little agitated. It has been over 40 years since my mom and I lived under the same roof. The hubby and son have claimed part of the 3rd garage as their “space.” Do not blame them, at all. And mom, due to her aging and suffering with Alzheimer’s, doesn’t do change well.

Tonight, as I sat in Church, I prayed for my entire family. My blood family, and my extended family. We fondly refer to extended family members as the “married-ins.” Ha-Ha. I am a “married in” to my husband’s large family, as he is to my much smaller, but fractured family. And I prayed for my friends. My long time friends, and my new friends. I prayed for my sons and their families, and my youngest son (the senior-itis boy!!) as he comes to the close of his high school experience and embarks on his career. Because this journey we are all on, well, we come together once in awhile and we share the road together. And sometimes we need to rely on family and friends to help us navigate this path we are on. It’s when we lean on each other.  And so I prayed for us all.

“Do not cast me away when I am old; do not forsake me when my strength is gone.” Psalm 71:9

“Even when I am old and gray, do not forsake me, my God, till I declare your power to the next generation, your mighty acts to all who are to come.” Psalm 71:18

There is much we can learn from our older generation. They need not be placed into “holding cells” or “old-people prison” or even “gilded cages.”  My mom said to my sister one time, something to the effect that, “It’s nice where I live, but it is still a prison.” And I really don’t want anyone to feel that way. Not ever. Life is to be lived joyously, peacefully, and with love, until our last breath. And ideally, surrounded by family and friends.

Tomorrow will be another busy day; the week will be full. And slowly but surely, we will be checking more things off our lists. The hubby can come home later in the week and not have to leave again for a couple of weeks; he can relax at home for awhile. I can start packing us up to move (*The thrill is gone…* I am channeling my inner BB King). My youngest son can get closer to graduation – it all wraps up in a couple of weeks! We can get in tune with this journey we are all on and the feelings we have, as we take these next steps; steps taken together as a family.

“But if serving the LORD seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the LORD.” Joshua 24:15

“and they did not believe the women…”

Ever feel like your brain is going to explode? Yeah; me, too. I know it is Easter Monday, or the Monday of Bright Week, as those of us in the Eastern/Orthodox churches like to call it. I read a post I had written a couple of years ago about Easter Sunday and being sick. One of the things I said was that no matter what I had done or not done, Easter still happened. Christ rose from the dead regardless of my input. He did that for me. And I need to rest in that. Today’s reading in Scripture for my Gratitude Journal was Luke 23:50 – 24:12 and the statement that jumped out at me was:

“But this tale seemed to them to be nonsense, and they did not believe the women.”

This is when the women went to the tomb and the angel appeared to them. They left and met Christ along the way, worshipping at His feet. He told them to tell the Disciples. And they did as He asked, only the Disciples did not believe them. After this, Peter runs off to find the tomb empty, himself, and he then went off by himself, wondering at what had come to pass.” How often do we take what people say with a “grain of salt,” not really accepting what they tell us as truth? And Peter, who did not believe the women, missed the fact that they had spoken to the Risen Christ in person…he just chose not to believe their nonsensical tale. How sad for him. I wonder how history would have differed if they had believed the women.

We are house-hunting. I cannot tell you the angst this has brought to our lives. Our lender is being amazing; our realtor is a man of much patience. It is not with them that the angst is originating! It is in finding our “unicorn” house. What is that, you may ask? Well it is a new colloquialism used today. Anything that you are searching for, and is rare, is a “unicorn.” “Things only sell for what the market will bear” is a marketing strategy. Sometimes manufacturers purposely advertise things they will only make a few of, knowing they will become popular and they can charge a lot more for them, because of their rarity. When I was pregnant with my eldest son, I wanted a little “Cabbage Patch” doll for his crib. We innocently bought one and laid it in his crib, walking past it and looking in the room, practicing what it would be like when he was actually here! We did not realize that particular year, Cabbage Patch dolls were the “it” gift for Christmas; the “unicorn” of 1985. To make it even funnier, we got ours at the local grocery store, and for a reasonable price, too!  We did not know we had a “unicorn” in our son’s crib!! (We named him Ernst Wolfgang…so we could get that urge to use a very German name out of our systems! LOL!).

And so we are now hunting the elusive “unicorn” house that has to meet so many criteria, I wonder if it does truly exist. The housing industry does not have enough new builds in our area to meet demand, and so housing costs, in general, can be a little high. Re-sales are down and so the market is a little tight right now. The closer we get to the main city here, the “bang for the buck” really goes down. That is pretty much the same thing all over. The further you have to drive from town and necessities, you find one of two things: (1) lower priced homes on much larger lots, some including actually acreage; or (2) mansions with fenced and gated property, with large price tags, too! And when I first met our realtor, I was telling him I wanted that unique living experience only to be had here and before I could finish my description, he took it over and described what I wanted perfectly. It was pretty funny. Makes me wonder why they don’t build housing developments with log cabin designs, with all the homes on lakes!! LOL!

And I laugh when I think of my dilemma. I mean, for most people, buying a home is pretty awesome. Are these available homes what I dreamed they would be? No, they are not. Are they where I pictured myself growing old (er) and living? Not really. But I am no spring chicken, and if anyone has ever lived remotely, you get that issue. I live through Amazon as it is! And to get that cabin in the woods, we would have to live about 45 minutes or more, on a good day, away from town and our kids and grandkids. We also have to deal with winter driving and blowing snow and closed highways. So that is out. We are re-adjusting our dreams a little bit.

Most people do not accept what they are told…okay, many who think about things do not accept all they are told…okay, well, there are those who do not accept everything they are told and look for their own answers. Maybe it is more rare than I think, but I certainly question things. And today, working on this housing thing, and reading the Scriptures, I chose to stop and ponder. Just think about things. St. Peter went off by himself to think about all that had happened. Later on in his story, he leads the entire Christian community and thanks to him and the inspiration from the Holy Spirit, we have our Church today. So questioning things is not a bad thing. But learning to accept truths that are immutable can be hard. Most especially when you disagree with what is being shared. As I began reading my new Psalter today, the very first reading stopped me cold:

“Blessed is the man that hath not walked in the counsel of the ungodly, nor stood in the way of sinners, and hath not sat in the seat of the scornful. But his delight is in the Law of the Lord, and in His Law will he exercise himself day and night. And he shall be like a tree planted by the waterside, that will bring forth his fruit in due season; his leaf also shall not fall, and all whatsoever he doeth, it shall prosper.”

That is the first Psalm that David wrote. The first one! This lets us know that our choices to follow the Law of the Lord is eternally important. This Lent, I chose to give everything over to God and allow His will to work in my life. And I worry about buying a house?!? About finding the perfect place to live? About the place I will bring my mom? The style of house? The view? Setting? Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Oh my goodness!  I need to relax in the promises of the Lord, and work on allowing myself to be “planted by the waterside…and all whatsoever he doeth, it shall prosper.” God totally has all of this. I am stressing for no good reason. I am going to take some deep breaths, spend some quiet time with my family just enjoying being together, and I am going to allow God to work in all of this. All of it.

Happy and blessed Bright Week, my friends!

“…the kindness I sought…”

Today is one of those days when this saying came springing itself into my mind. Some days, all we can do is pray. Have you ever had the feeling that you are standing next to a damn that is about to give way? Or near a complex set of dominoes someone made into a design, and they are about to all tumble? Or rocks, just starting their landslide, which you know you need to get out of the way from?  I am feeling that pressure more and more as each day passes by. When will it start? When will that little pebble holding the damn have enough pressure to give way, and the wall of water will come raging down the ravine in my life?

This past winter, the state of California saw more water than it has in years. The deserts are gloriously green. The pastures are blooming. But the damns are not doing so well. Apparently, every 100 years or so, California gets an abundance of water. And this was that year, according to some pundits commenting on it. I recall growing up in California and we always had enough water. I have memories of Saturday mornings with the smell of fresh cut lawns, the sounds of mowers in the distance, and the sounds of the sprinklers all popping up and spreading moisture over those hungry, grassy, front yards, coming though open windows – with no screens. Ah, the joy of those mornings. (Until the 70s when we learned about rationing gas, and water. Not sure why they coincided, but they did). And now the damns that have needed upgrading and repair are desperately trying to hold back this “100 years” of water.

I can hardly wait until Spring is well and truly here. I long for these mountain vistas and having our windows open; the smells and sounds of springtime in a mountainous region pouring into our stuffing, winterized houses! And trust me, living where I do, Spring and the joy it brings is a real thing! And it is Holy Week, meaning Easter/Pascha is sneaking right up on us. And in the back of my mind, I struggle with this impending doom; a sense that all the dominoes are about ready to fall.

And so on a day like today, I am trying to surround myself in prayer. Because “I called to the Lord with my mouth; praise was upon my tongue….But God did hear and listened to my voice in prayer. Blessed be God, who did not refuse me the kindness I sought in prayer.” Psalm 66:17-20 And I also read today, “Blessed be the Lord day by day; God, our salvation, who carries us.” Psalm 68:20  I know the Lord holds my heart in His hands. That God has what is best for me always in His heart. I trust God completely. And so to ease this sense of things beginning to happen (that will pick up the pace a tad bit) I cling to these Psalms, and to the Scriptures. Today, I read about the Washing of the Disciples’ Feet in the book of John, Chapter 13, verses 1-17. In this reading, I grasped onto some sentences that I had not noticed before: “Not all of you are clean” and “Amen, Amen, I say to you, no slave is greater than his master…” and the one that really stood out for me was, “I have given you a model to follow.”

This model is not just one of service to others, which it is mostly used to illustrate. For me, I saw it as a total way of going through life. We truly need to serve others; no slave is greater than his master. But we also need, at least to me, to see this model for more than just Thursday’s service during Holy Week. I need to work on following the model Christ has left for me – in all things. And so when I am stressed and worried over dominoes crashing in my life, or that damn breaking and my life being flooded in so many ways, I must always, always, look to Christ as my model.

Christ accepted, willing, the Cup from His Father. He knew what was coming; the pain, the heartbreak of being betrayed. He willingly accepted His Father’s Will for His life. That is the model He gave us to follow. And so, with the things in my life seeming so insignificant in light of Christ’s sacrifice for me, the very least I can do is to model my life on his example and to accept the Cup offered to me. And God will get me through it. All of it. Because He promised me that He would never leave me, ever.

“…wait patiently for Him to act…”

May their memories be eternal. The bombing of Churches in Egypt and the Middle East on Palm Sunday makes reflections on my Lenten journey seem so superfluous; silly in some ways; and almost disrespectful in others. It is certainly sobering and makes most of us stop and take into account what we are doing and what is important to us, in our daily lives.

This past week has been pretty stressful, personally, dealing with the health of my parents and my mother-in-law, as well as trying to find housing solutions. I don’t know about you, but purposely going into debt scares me. Taking on a home loan after not having one for a few years is pretty intimidating. The bankers have been wonderful to deal with, and apparently we are a good “risk” for them, but still, the idea of a lot of debt at my age is a little scary. And then to see these images of death and bloodshed on Palm Sunday, it made me draw up short and just stop the nonsense for a few minutes. The least we can do is pray for the lives lost and their families. It is just so horrific. The shooting of 60 Tomahawk missiles into Syria set me on edge to begin with; I do not want World War III. I don’t. I am a mother of a veteran. One son is enough, trust me.

When my dad was talking to me from the hospital ICU, he sounded so far away and so very vulnerable. My dad has always prided himself on his physical strength. His handshake could always crush another person’s hand, and he always shook your hand in a strong way; his hugs could steal your breath away. Even in his 70s. But now, at 90, with Parkinson’s and Dementia stealing much of his daily life from him, he was still able to tell me how amazed everyone at the hospital was with his overall strength. And he took much comfort in that. And pride. And he always joked that he never exercised, not since his 20s, and he never understood the craze. He did power walking and rode a bicycle, but nothing more. And he’s always been so very strong. It is hard for the strong to allow themselves to become weak; to allow others to care for them is hard; to acknowledge their weakness is even more difficult.

I believe that we are seeing a time in our world where the strengths we have come to rely upon are being challenged, in a world-wide, political realm, but also personally. And this is Holy Week, too. God has timing that is beyond our comprehension and beyond our expectations. I know that the people at the parish church in Tanta had no idea that Palm Sunday was their last day on earth. They had gone to Church to celebrate Christ’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem, knowing that in the next 3 days He would be condemned to death….”Crucify Him” the crowds would chant after yelling “Hosanna in the highest! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord” a mere three days earlier. And these Coptic Christians, who are now martyrs for the faith, were chanting, “Hosanna” as their lives were taken. 43 lives taken and 100s injured in an act of terrorism against innocent Christians. Our world is careening out of control in the sense that things are not as they were, and I wonder where we are headed. My dad, personally, is having to surrender control over his life and well-being. He has to allow others to care for him. He has to trust others will have his best interests at heart. Who do we trust to do that for us on a local, national, and international level? Who has my best interest at heart?

I have learned over this Lenten journey that God is in control. Always. We see life taken away and we wonder why; we question things like this bombing in Egypt; we wonder where God is in all of this. But I honestly believe His hand is in it all. Every moment of it. Sometimes the souls He brings home to Him, He wants with Him in Paradise. We mourn the lives lost, yes, because of the horror of how they were taken and the loss we experience when those we love are taken. But I try to remember the promises God has made. It is hard on those of us still here – those He has taken are still singing “Hosanna in the highest,” only with Heaven’s choir. We are angry at the violent way in which they were taken. But mostly we grieve for ourselves. Because we are still here. Learning to trust God in all things? That, my friend, is the journey. Always trusting. Always.

God is looking at the entire timeline. We are standing in our own little section of eternity. (Teeny-tiny little space we each occupy during our lifetimes). He sees eternity from its inception until He comes again and makes all things whole. I place my trust in His wisdom and love for me. I let my frustration and fear, sadness and expectations, completely go. Once you allow God to rule in all areas – truly all of them – you are free. It is a constant struggle to release our control and hand it to God. A daily struggle. But the rewards are eternal. If we think about the control we exert on our environment on a daily basis, handing all of that over to God is intimidating and frightening. We argue over who has control of the TV remote; who is driving which car; whose choice it is for the meal we will eat or where we go that day; even which house to live in or what Church we attend. Handing over complete control to God in a culture of “control freaks” is an intimidating task, and one that is impossible without prayer and complete trust in God. It’s something we all need to focus on, moment by moment. Trust, and allow God to “take the wheel.” (from Carrie Underwood’s song, “Take the Wheel”). During Holy week, we need to focus on our journey, and walk with Christ on His journey this week, humbly asking Him to give us hearts to see the way.

I pray that our Holy Week be ever fruitful and we each allow God to “make your paths straight.” (Proverbs 2:5-6) God is in control and He truly has our best interests at heart. We cannot allow ourselves to overly trust in human choices and decisions. Things go awry daily. Missiles are shot at the wrong target; people say stupid things; poor choices are made. In amongst all of that, God is silently, quietly, waiting for us all to listen to Him.

Blessed Holy Week. For those lives lost in these bombings – our Coptic Christian brothers and sisters – may their memories be eternal.

“Action is worth nothing without prayer…”

Oh man oh man oh man….today I was assaulted with so many things that are near and dear to my heart. My mom, most of all. Alzheimer’s is just such a weird disease. It robs the person of their sense of self, in the moment. They have this vast memory for their distant past, but do not recall if they have eaten or showered recently. It robs you of meaningful conversations. I did not realize how dependent upon my mom I still am. I mean, I have been married for 32 years. I have not lived with my mom in about 40 years. We have lived in different states for much of my marriage. But the weird thing is that I have always known she was “there.” And that she was there for me. If I needed her, she would part the Red Sea herself to be at my side. My mom is tiny but she is a force of nature. A long time ago, many, many years ago, when we were living in the Los Angeles area, I liked a boy. His name was Armando. I was besotted. Totally. My first love. He used to walk me home and we’d sit on the front steps and just talk. I was 12 or 13. We never even held hands! Back then if you liked someone, you would dedicate songs to them on the local radio. When Armando dedicated a song to me, I thought I was in heaven! Well, this other girl in our school liked him, too. About this same time, I was playing flag football in our neighborhood with my brother and some buddies, and both of my knees “gave out on me.” Now remember, this was back when there were dress codes. Girls were not allowed to wear pants. Only dresses. And they had to be a specific length. No mini skits allowed. Anyway, I was taken to the hospital after our football game and was immediately casted on both legs, from my ankles to my hips. Both legs. Both of them. In dresses. At a desk or bench. Can you imagine? I was given a waiver to wear my gym shorts underneath. How nice of them. I also was on crutches. (Did I ever mention that I also had glasses and braces? Gee, not too much of a standout, was I??? And at the age when you want to melt into the scenery, too). As I made my way to the back gate, to meet my mom for a ride home after school one afternoon, this other girl decided she and her friends would beat me up. (Because I guess she would get rid of the competition and what guy doesn’t like you beating other girls up for him???). My mom arrived and saw a pile of girls beating someone. Not knowing I was at the bottom of that pile, my little 4’11” mom jumped in and started yanking girls off by their hair, yelling at them. At this time, a teacher came up to assist her. Imagine her surprise at finding me at the bottom, all bloody and bruised and in need of another hospital visit? The point is my mom had no idea it was me. She just knew someone needed help and she dove in. Armando and I didn’t have a chance after that. He was embarrassed and my parents had enough of LA and we put our house up for sale and moved to Orange County. (That same girl sent her little brother and his buddies after my brother a day or so later. It was just too much for my parents to deal with, so we moved away). But I will never forget my mom diving on top of all those girls (there were apparently 11 of them) and yanking them off a kid, not even knowing it was me, with her bare hands and her loud voice! She is a mama bear. And I love her for that. And I miss it. And now we are planning and arranging to have her come to live with us. It makes me sad. She will be here, but our conversations will be shallow. But I am banking on lots of hugs and her many comments, especially, “I love you, honey” from her. At least I will have HER. And I can’t think of a better way to show her how much I appreciate her having my back all these years, than by having hers, now, as she struggles with Alzheimer’s.

alzheimers-fight

And then today there was a post, chiding pro lifers who protest and pray outside abortion clinics. Basically, a man was saying that pro lifers need to come inside the clinics (like PP lets us inside them) and offer to support that mom, to pay her needs, and to adopt that child. Well, I responded, “Been there. Done that. A lot of us do. On a regular basis.” It made me angry. And the mother bear that I get from my mom came out in me. I desperately want to take in these babies. I would love to have them lined up in cribs in my home. But it is not feasible. (And I am now too old, per system requirements!!) We have done away with orphanages in this country. Instead, we have social services. Being a foster parent opened my eyes to all of that horrific-ness. I know social workers are over stressed with so many clients that they cannot do right by them all. I know the system is woefully inadequate. But I do not believe throwing money at it will help. We need to re-think how we do this. What’s wrong with lovingly operated orphanages where women could come to get prenatal care and even give birth, and then leave their babies so they could be adopted? I’d volunteer to help there. There has to be a way to reach more women who choose life for their children, but cannot parent them. I know so many families who would lovingly take a child to raise as their own. *sigh* Rant over.

nofoottoosmall

And today my hubby was subjected to so much turbulence on his flight to Juneau, he said it was the worst he’s ever experienced. I asked if he got sick and his reply was, “No. I was too scared. But I prayed a lot.” Isn’t that awesome? Me? I would have puked all over everyone. I barely fly in normal, clear weather. Yesterday, my oldest son showed me photos of where he’d been working, way up in the Arctic Circle. And then he showed me the  plane he flew home in. Absolutely not. Oh my word. So small. I need big, ginormous planes to feel safe. And my daughter-in-law’s parents are stuck and cannot get back up here, due to a storm hitting Seattle. My poor Seattle, to get 6″-12″ of snow in a day or two has closed them down. Their hilly streets are no match for that much snow. I do miss living there, but don’t miss the crazy driving on those hilly streets. One night I was at a stoplight in the pouring rain, so afraid of sliding down the hill as I tried to push my gas pedal, that in my head I kept hearing Cape Canaveral count downs…”Minus 60 seconds to launch…!!” I was that leaned back in my seat! I was shaking. Don’t miss that driving at all. And today we have sunshine but 10 degrees. Hoar frost all over everything, which makes the world sparkle. I love cold temps after the snow.

frostyroad

And a friend was complaining that today was being “such a Monday.” I totally get that. Like I said, I was assaulted by so many things that were hitting my heart today. And some days are like that. Things fly at you from so many directions. My granddaughters, who live in SoCal, apparently discovered permanent markers that were hidden away. While mom and dad slept they painted the house, and themselves. The photos I received this morning were hilarious. I know I should not laugh, but that particular son of mine caused me to have poison control on speed dial. Life was so eventful with that particular child. And so it made me laugh that his daughters are following in his footsteps, complete with that little glimmer in their eyes. And it was another little crisis coming at me, as I scrambled for recipes using my essential oils, to help them clean that up (it’s lemon oil to the rescue, in case that ever comes up!). One of my friends is dealing with ill health of one of their pets. Another just had twin granddaughters. His daughter was a surrogate for his other daughter, who has had breast cancer and is unable to have children. I little miracle that made me smile today. After saying that, I won’t even go into the Super Bowl and that miasma of issues! But just to say that Mondays can sometimes undo us. And it can be joyous and laughter-filled, or total chaos. Sometimes those are just Mondays. When our children were small and we lived fairly quietly and isolated on a farm off a dirt road, I realized that Mondays were awful because it was fallout from busy weekends when we went into town and mingled with people. Soccer matches, or Church events, grocery shopping or visiting with friends. It was outside our normal pattern, and the day afterwards the kids were “out of sorts” and it made my Mondays stink. Truly. And as we get older, we get into habits. My mom remembers to eat because she does the same thing every morning – she walks to the cafe for coffee and chatter. Otherwise, if she just sat in her apartment, she would just sit. And forget to eat. And when her routine is disrupted, it can take a day or two for her to feel herself again. We are all like that. And right now, in our world, our lives are disrupted. It is not only Monday, it is pretty much becoming daily. Chaos and noise, busy-ness and business. We were not meant for this much humanity, rubbing up against one another constantly.

commuters

Sometimes we need to unplug and just be quiet. No TV, no phones, no radios, no videos or video games. I can joyfully spend hours at home in silence, getting on with my day. My head can create enough turbulence in me just being me, and coming to terms with life. And with tensions so high in so many areas and for so many reasons, I like to dial it back a hair and just veg. Just be at home. Or perhaps coffee with a friend to chat. Or maybe stopping into a church for quiet prayer and reflection. “Holy Silence” is something I have learned along the way and I love embracing silence, being in communion with God. I can offer up all my toil for His use and His good ends. Offering our work for the Work of God and His Kingdom is a wonderfully humbling way to approach our days.

silence-mothertheresa
“Silence is the door-keeper of the interior life.” (281) The Way by St. Josemaria Escriva

I love to think that doing little things, in silence, that benefit my family or my job, can be given to God and help to build my interior life with Him. On Mondays, when it all seems to go sideways, from the horrid commute (“Nothing’s wrong on the road today, it’s just Monday” – a quote on our local roadway page) to the craziness of our kids, and the failures we accomplish along the way…we can opt to reflect and to silently ask God for help and direction and peace.

“Action is worth nothing without prayer: prayer grows in value with sacrifice.” (81) The Way, by St. Josemaria Escriva.

“You say that you don’t know how to pray? Put yourself in the presence of God, and once you have said, ‘Lord, I don’t know how to pray!’ rest assured that you have begun to do so.” (90) The Way, by St. Josemaria Escriva

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“You shall rise before the gray headed…”

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Many of you who have read, or have been reading, my blog understand that I have elderly parents. Of course, I could never say that directly to them, because they would vehemently deny it! My mom (87) has Alzheimer’s and is now suffering with basal cell cancer at the site of her 40-year-old mastectomy. She is a trooper, that is for sure. With her new cancer showing up, the doctor offered to make it “look better” in the sense of presentation. He offered some options and one of them was to remove skin from mom’s cheek to place over the site. Her response? “You’re not taking skin off my face!” Ha-Ha. When she was initially diagnosed with cancer all those 40+ years ago, she told me, “This is not what is going to take me out.” And she meant it. She doggedly took her radiation treatments, even if they made her weak and ill. And she soldiered through them. My dad had recently declared his marital independence at the same time (his timing was not the best) and she was left with just me there, to pick up the pieces. (My younger brother had recently gotten married and I was the sole child left at home). Some of those days were particularly rough. Some were filled with laughter – trying on prosthesis after prosthesis for her mastectomy often left us breathless and crying with laughter. Coincidentally, I just happened to work at a department store in their lingerie department at the time, and had actually been trained in fitting them. We used to have one on our counter, and we used it as a pin cushion. I never looked at it the same after my mom’s surgery.

mastectomy-prosthesis

My dad called me this morning…with his current list of ailments. Mostly he is concerned with the affects of aging. Dementia, slurred speech, dropping things. He’s 90 years old. We discussed his continued driving. Boy, did his dad hate it when he had his license taken away at 80 years old. But I don’t think my dad sees it as that “line in the sand” issue of once he crosses it, lights out! But he does realize he is old school. I teased him that he can barely boil water to steep a teabag. He’s always had the women in his life take care of him – since birth. And he realizes his days of contributing to this world are winding down. He feels superfluous and I can understand that. We laughed that I am 60 years old and we were chatting about some of my adventures from childhood and high school, where he swore I would be the death of him! We also discussed how our society reacts to older people. As someone who has allowed her gray hair to just be there, without hiding, I can attest to this. It amazes me how people treat you when they see your gray hair. (Not to mention a tattoo!! Oh my word!!)

“You shall rise up before the grayheaded and honor the aged, and you shall revere your God; I am the LORD. Leviticus 19:32

Listen to your father who begot you, And do not despise your mother when she is old. Proverbs 23:22

You shall not curse a deaf man, nor place a stumbling block before the blind, but you shall revere your God; I am the LORD. Leviticus 19:14

A gray head is a crown of glory; It is found in the way of righteousness. Proverbs 16:31

The glory of young men is their strength, And the honor of old men is their gray hair. Proverbs 20:29″

There are so many verses in Scripture where we are admonished to honor our parents and our elderly who reside among us. Unfortunately, very few people do. We house the elderly in nursing homes, basically feeding them and giving them a roof until they die. I wish we could return to the days where extended families lived together, tripping over one another as they grew older together. I was blessed in that I spent a lot of my free time in the presence of my paternal grandparents. As a child, I spent weekends there on a regular basis. As a teenager, I would drive out just to visit them, eating dinner or taking a swim in their pool and chatting. As a college student, I would go and stay weekends with my grandparents. They were my friends, not just my grandparents. My grandma came to live with us in the last days of her life, and my children knew her, and loved her very much. We were all together as she passed away. It was a quiet and lovely death, as I held her hand. She knew she was loved and treasured.

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And today these things made me think. Someone we know was just diagnosed with terminal brain cancer, out of the blue. Time is constantly ticking and our quality of life can be limited, severely, by things outside of our control or influence. As we age, our health become precarious, at best. My biggest fear is falling in all this snow and ice. I am scared to death I will break something. As I have quoted many times, a priest friend of ours once said, “We are not guaranteed our next breath.” And it is becoming more and more a stark realization. I am getting to the age where my parents and my friend’s parents are dying. We are going to become the oldest generation living. (Well, there are always a few, wonderful, exceptions!). But overall, we are moving towards the wall every, single, person we know hits. Death. [A weird, bright spot (squirrel!) is that our new president is 70 years old. My dad and I marveled at how full his days must be. And the mantle of responsibility many young people would never want, let alone a successful businessman who could, very easily, have retired and taken life very easy for the rest of his days. But I don’t think he’s wired like that! Ha-Ha!]

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As so, after conversing with pretty much my entire family today, I am reminded that life is, indeed, so very short. I am intimidated about the world ahead of me, with family and friends passing away. I am tremulous in my heart at having to face these things, in the not-too-distant future. But I also know My God has my back. He knows when I need His strength, when I just cannot take another thing. He also knows who He needs to place in my life, to assist me through these rough times. In the same vein, He also knows who He needs to remove from my life, in order to help me maintain my peace. And I am very okay with that. Life is fleeting and drama is highly over-rated. I am content to be at home, enjoying the snowfall, and seeing my kids and grandchildren grow and mature around me. Occasionally I love a nice cup of coffee in a cafe with a friend. I enjoy some alone time with my best friend – my husband – and preferably not in a ditch (sorry, had to tease you). Life is pretty good. Fleeting and shorter than it was, but I know how Blessed I am.

My prayer for you is that you can come to understand that life is personal. I need to stop reading all this political and social stuff. I need to pick up my laundry and cook my meals. I need to ensure my family is cared for, and that each one knows my heart and how very much I adore them. I need to work on bolstering all these long-standing, but long-distance, friendships I treasure. We all need to take care of our own, private, little orbits of life. Just think of the peace we could share if all our own worlds were in order!

peace-i-leave-with-you

Forget-me-not…

alzheimers-brain-puzzle

My mom has “stage 3” Alzheimer’s disease. It is not static; it is progressing. And so, I had a long chat with my sister yesterday. I call her my sister, but she is officially my “step sister.” And that seems just weird to call her that. We are sisters in our hearts. And she does not have a sister from her parents, and neither do I – it works out perfectly. We met when we were both in our 20s. Our parents fell in love and began living together, and after much pressure from us kids, were eventually married. My mom’s husband, aka my other dad, passed away just three years ago, from a very short and ugly bout of cancer. And it seems like he’s been gone forever. He will always leave a hole in our lives. To my children, he was their grandpa, not their grandma’s husband. He always made sure to let each of us know how much he loved us. And we all returned that love. He was an incredible man. And he loved my mother so very much. She knows he is gone. She kisses his framed photo each morning upon rising, and each evening at bedtime. My sister reminds her so very much of him. And she loves my sister as her own; even loving all of her husband’s grown children as her own. And her grandchildren through him, too. My mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s a couple of years before my stepdad became ill. But at his death, it became obvious we could not let her live by herself. So, we moved her to a retirement home just after my stepdad passed away. My brother could not take her, and I live thousands of miles away. She is so attached emotionally to my sister, and we gratefully found a place just 5 minutes from her house, in sunny Southern California.

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Today, we came to the conclusion that where my mom is living is no longer working. We’ve skirted this issue for months now. Not only is she beginning to require more care, and this facility is not a memory care facility, but she is also no longer happy there. She knows she is not with her family. (She calls it her “prison.” She says it’s a beautiful one, but it is still a prison). She is missing the interaction with her kids and grandkids, and even the great-grandchildren she has. And we came to the almost inevitable conclusion that we need to move her up here, to be with me (I am the oldest and sort of expected this to happen – eventually). But, to actually live with me. And now my stomach is in knots. We are almost an empty nest, and I just turned 60 years old. My mom is 87 and healthier than I am (other than this horrific disease)! I. Am. Scared.

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God never gives us more than we can handle. I know this. I do. He also has a great sense of humor and irony. Do you see that flower up there? The Forget-Me-Not? It is the flower of the Alzheimer’s movement, as is the color purple. I recently got my first tattoo (don’t be too shocked) and it is purple. I love purple. I reside in Alaska. Do you know what the Alaskan state flower is? Yep – the Forget-Me-Not. See? God is smiling at me and my panic.

“…but if any widow has children or grandchildren, they must first learn to practice piety in regard to their own family and to make some return to their parents; for this is acceptable in the sight of God.” 1 Timothy 5:4

Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be prolonged in the land which the LORD your God gives you.” Exodus 20:12

Even to your old age I will be the same, And even to your graying years I will bear you! I have done it, and I will carry you; And I will bear you and I will deliver you.” Isaiah 46:4

But if anyone does not provide for his own, and especially for those of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.” 1 Timothy 5:8

On and on go the admonishments to care for one another. The admonishment is not just to our own flesh and blood – “So then, while we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, and especially to those who are of the household of the faith.” (Galatians 6:10). We need to be taken outside of ourselves and our own needs, to care for the “least of these.” (Matthew 25:10). And I am being called in a very personal way, to care for my mom. And still, I am scared.

empty-nest

It’s rather ironic that we just celebrated our youngest son’s 18th birthday and are talking almost daily about his future and college and becoming an adult…yada yada yada…and then I talk to my sister. I jokingly offered to let my mom live with her. She said that she and her husband are actually thinking of retirement and selling their big house…maybe even living in a motorhome for awhile. They love having an empty nest. Ha-Ha. Further irony? We downsized when we relocated here. We gave away and sold everything and put what we could squeeze into a 25-foot u-haul trailer to live here. My husband and I were recently discussing our dreams of a camper/trailer we could haul all over the state, going from fishing hole to fishing hole, in our old age. Sans kids. Possibly allowing grandchildren! Ha-Ha.

I am flummoxed. There is just so much to consider, becoming the caregiver of an elderly relative. We did that for my paternal grandmother. We still had all our kids at home. She lived with us during her final stages of life, which ended up being just a few months. The house we owned was large enough to accommodate her and her hospital bed, as well as all the other equipment and space she needed. We met an amazing hospice staff and they came and went at all hours of the day and night. But it was such a blessing to share in that with my grandma. I treasured those last months and moments with her. I was glad to do it. I loved her dearly, and still I miss her. She made us laugh all the time. She was like a second mother to me. My mom and I have always had a rather contentious relationship, because I am somewhat like her, but also like my dad. I infuriate and frustrate her because of how much I am like my dad, her ex-husband. I moved out the moment I was 18 and only moved home when I was around 20-21, coincidentally right when my brother moved out to get married, and my dad left. I was there with her through her divorce and subsequent bout of breast cancer. But that was more than 40 years ago now. We held each other many days and nights, mourning the loss of our family unit, and her health. It was a devastating time for both of us. My mom is not a quitter. During those months of radiation and chemo, she announced, “This is not what will take me out.” And she meant it. She fought cancer with everything she was. She asked the American Cancer Society to leave our house one afternoon, disappearing into the back of the house. She called me back to her and said, “Please ask them to leave. If I listen to how depressing they are, this disease will kill me. And I have no intention of dying. Get rid of them!” And I did!  She is cognizant that she has Alzheimer’s. She hates it. When she is lucid and we can talk about it, she bemoans the fact that she knows she forgets things and people. She thinks others will think she is stupid, because she cannot remember them or events. We re-assure her that she is not stupid. We just repeat things so she can grasp onto them. But nowadays, that ability to grasp new things is passing her by. And her ability to remember all of the people in her family is also passing her by.

sadfaceAlzheimer’s is one of the worst diseases I know. My mom is a healthy woman. She isn’t on medication, except for the Alzheimer meds, which are no longer effective. She has only gone to doctors for illnesses, like her cancer or when she hurt her shoulder and needed surgery. She rarely even catches a cold. But this disease is ravaging her mind. And it hurts to see. If my mom knew she was like she is, she would hate it. She was always so put together. Her outfits always matched. She still wears matching jewelry, even if it is the same couple of pieces every day. She always wears make up (which I don’t even do) and her hair is always done just so. She used to iron her denim pants. (She never calls them jeans). My mom is a proper, little, British woman. And her life in New Zealand and her years as a young woman are now where she is living, mentally, most of the time. And it makes me so very sad. She remembers the 60s and 70s…she recalls outfits and events from the 1950s. But she does not remember some of the people she knows and loves. And that is hard. And I am scared of having the responsibility for her. Total responsibility. It is almost like thinking of having another baby in a couple of months, at my age.I just had a grandchild! My fifth. That I can do. But this? It intimidates me.

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And every time I forget something, I wonder if I am getting this disease. Each time life gets confusing, or when I try to recall something and can only conjure a white wall in my mind, I am fearful. Will this be my fate? My dad is now 90 and has dementia. Because it is a type and function of Alzheimer’s disease, and it is on both sides of my genetic tree, will this be me in 20 years? My mom is only 27 years older than I am. Am I headed in this direction, too? How will I care for my mom if I start slipping away? Will my husband, or my sons, be burdened with all of my family? Will I become that which I fear in my mom? That is a terrifying thought.

But back to my panic and my faith. Back to my current reality. I know that the Lord will watch over us. I know that He intends for us to bond, as a family. Caring for my mom takes me way outside of my comfort zone, but perhaps it is where I need to go. One of my friends, and a leader in my company, said in a live feed yesterday, that whatever it is we are fearful of, is probably what we need to tackle next. And I am deeply fearful of taking care of my mom. My entire world will be turned upside down. We will have to move. Seriously. Like in the next few months move. And packing up this house and relocating again – I am seriously tired of moving. Horribly tired of moving. I don’t know how many moves I have left in me. It’s that bad. We’ve been here for almost 5 years, so I guess it’s time! Ha-Ha-Ha. But this move is so very different. This is a necessity for my mom. For her last years. I am not ready to say goodbye to my parents, to my mom. It frightens me because it is sort of like a final curtain; a devastating ending. I know it is inevitable. I know time marches on and we all come to an end. But having it thrust into your face, into your little cocoon, that is a different experience. I love my mom. Sometimes I need my mom. But she is no longer capable of being my mom, in the sense of me relying on her. And I know, that in her lucid moments, being dependent on me is not something she is comfortable with. Getting in a nurse to assist her is not something she will like, but having me bathe her or dress her would make her even more uncomfortable, although I have done it in the past. The first time I saw what her mastectomy honestly was, and when I had to assist her with her bandages, I broke down (literally fell onto the floor) and just cried. She was standing there, wet and naked in the bathtub/shower, trying to comfort me! My mom is an amazing woman, truly she is. Difficult? Yes. But I will treasure those moments when my mom held me while I was sick. When she held me as I wept. When she comforted ME – over the loss of her breasts and her health and her marriage. My mom has done so much for me, just being her, in all that she is. And I am so not ready for this last stage. Being with my mom, as her caregiver, is almost as frightening to me as losing her, once and for all.

alzheimers-fight

 

“..I will bless you with food..”

 

“You must serve only the Lord your God. If you do, I will bless you with food and water, and I will protect you from illness.” Exodus 23:25 (NLT)

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I started off my day with my favorite coffee blend. Well, favorite right now. I usually prefer a hazelnut latte, but today, it’s my “bullet-proof coffee,” which I blend up in my NutriBullet blender using African Organic Coffee, Organic Coconut Oil (1 tbls) and Organic Butter (1 tbls). It is pretty darn tasty! And it keeps you satiated for hours. You see, today we are taking our health into our own hands in a serious way, surrounded by careful consideration and drenched with prayer. I wanted to document it, so it helps keep me accountable, in a public way. I am also sharing it with others who are on this same journey, and the camaraderie is pretty amazing. They are supportive and praying for our success. And I thought I would share our journey, as we progress, on my blog. We are implementing the Whole30 program. I would say “diet” but that just connotes so many negative things. This is not a negative thing. The idea behind it is to remove things from your diet that could spark a reaction throughout your body (the most common reaction is some sort of inflammatory response. For me, that is acute and painful arthritis). And remove these things for 30 days. The Whole30 program has narrowed the “things” that most commonly bother us into pretty simple categories. After the 30 days, you slowly, if you want to, add them back in to see what impacts your body in a negative way. A lot of people I have spoken with never add some of these things back into their eating regime, as they find they are happier without them. I am excited to learn about that for us, too.

To clarify, this is not about denying yourself pleasures and not enjoying food. Not at all. The recipes I have found so far have been amazing. Butternut squash soup – marinated steak – Greek salad. Things look mouthwateringly yummy!  People have commented, “Oh, you’re going paleo.” Well, yes and no. Whole30 is not concerned with the historical data about why our ancestors ate what they ate (and the anthropologist in me loves all that information, trust me!!). They are more concerned with how our modern dietary choices are killing us. So, to prepare, we “carbed out” this weekend, at the suggestion from others who have already completed Whole30 more than once.  And ate lots of sugary stuff we don’t normally eat. We even had ice cream – from Cold Stone!! Mexican food with the beans and rice and cheese and sour creams…and the sopapillas for desert!! And pizza. Pizza Hut was so good this time! The cheese and ice cream made my husband cough…it is a link we are exploring. And that is hard for me because I love all things dairy! Ha-Ha! Ice cream, cream, butter, sour cream, cheeses of all kinds…you name it and I like it. But even more than having something I love like dairy – I am tired. Tired of hurting. Tired of being overweight. Tired of not being my best me. And that is the crux of why we are attempting this 30-day journey into better health.

“Don’t you realize that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, Who lives in you and was given to you by God? You do not belong to yourself, for God bought you with a high price. So you must honor God with your body.” 1 Corinthians 6:19-20 (NLT)

clarified-butter

I am excited because this process incorporates clarified butter, which is the same as Ghee. It is quite simple to make, but plain and flavored Ghee can be found in health food and ethnic stores. (You can also find clarified butter, but it is pretty pricey!). Basically, you cook butter in a pot, on the stove, to melting. When it foams, you remove the foam with a spoon. The foam contains the dairy fats you can live without; the remaining fat is still quite tasty and has lots of nutritive value, and is far better for cooking and baking. In warmer climates it will look sort of like corn oil. Up here, it looks like fairly solid butter. Yay! I can slather it over my potatoes or on my veggies. I found some amazing sauces that I will be trying that have clarified butter as their foundation, even for steaks! Many prominent chefs prefer clarified butter because it doesn’t burn as easily and you can use it at higher temperatures. So my love of dairy will get some help…and I can still make my bullet coffee.

sugar

The real killer for us is sugar. In any of its forms. Even stevia at this point. We need to learn to live without it in our lives. Sugar is in just so many things. We have been reading about it in the Whole30 books (“It Starts with Food” is one of their amazing books). I have to tell you, as my husband and I shopped last night to stock our Whole30-compliant pantry and refrigerator, we became label-readers. And it had such a huge impact on us. (It was also a rather long shopping trip, because we read every, single label. My husband was texting with one of our sons, who was offering his sympathy! Thanks, my son. He was at least laughing while we shopped!). There is sugar where you would least expect it. Not only that, there is wheat and other grains in things you would not expect. Why, for example, is there wheat flour in hash browns? Sugar? Isn’t it just shredded potatoes? Apparently it is not. Why is the first or second ingredient in any kind of sausage or bacon sugar?? Why? Why is fructose or corn syrup the  #1 or #2 ingredient in most drinks, even things you drink that you think are healthy for you? Why do they add sugar to cream??? I love good, old, plain cream! Cream! Spaghetti sauce is loaded with sugar!! Our tastebuds have been trained to want sweet everywhere, in almost everything we eat. We are missing out on the savory side of eating. Of enjoying spices for their inherently wonderful flavors. Or, for example, enjoying coffee for the taste of the coffee…not the syrups and sweetness-products that are added to it. “Double white mocha, extra sweet, with added whipped cream, please” is an order I have heard more than once. The thought of it makes my fillings ache! And so we are stopping ALL SUGAR, in all its forms, for the next 30 days. That includes all forms of alcohol, in beverages or additives in foods. Pray for us!

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And then there are those culprits above. Man oh man do I love pasta and bread. Slathered in butter, warm from the oven, bread is pretty much heaven for me. No need for anything else but bread and butter. Add a cup of tea and that is my comfort food. When I was a little girl, my mum would say, “Are you okay? Would you like a cup of tea and some bread & butter and we can just sit here and relax a bit?” Heaven. My kids love any sort of pasta, cooked and warm, with butter and Lawry’s Seasoned Salt on it. (I would throw in some vegetables to make it seem like a healthy lunch! Ha-Ha!). One of our favorite meals is Shrimp Alfredo. (For my middle son, make that Chicken Alfredo, but for the youngest could you please add some scallops?? Ha-Ha!). Of course, with warm garlic bread! Hey – and a salad – most of the time! I have a wonderful memory as a child, of walking through the village at Lake Arrowhead, California and coming out of the Dutch bakery (where they made the absolute best tasting sourdough bread I have ever eaten) carrying a warm, fresh loaf. We would walk back to the cabin and make tuna sandwiches on that fresh bread and sit and look at the Lake from the deck. Even the crust of that bread was good! Pretty much a perfect memory. But, it has to go for the next 30 days. No carbs from wheat or grains of any kind. No legumes of any kind (no refried beans! no chili with beans!). Gone from the pantry. Gone from the house. Well, except for my youngest son’s tortillas…he just cannot survive without them. My husband and I will be avoiding what we have come to call, “His Drawer” in our refrigerator. It has all his cheeses and tortillas and other things we are not eating that need to stay cold. Luckily they all fit in a small drawer!

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What you can have, however, is unlimited fruits and vegetables, within the right categories. For the first part of our 30 days, we are going to avoid a lot of fruits so we can purge that sweet taste a little more. We are eliminating corn and peas and some others, but pretty much eating what vegetables we want. We are also trying some new vegetables. My grandmother adored Brussel Sprouts. I never did. They always tasted so bitter to me. However, I am open to ideas and found some pretty tasty sounding recipes incorporating Brussel Sprouts. And I am going to try them. I am also trying things like butternut squash and kale and steamed spinach (which I love but the family is not that fond of). And I have come to love asparagus – so that will be eaten. So many things to explore and try. So many spices I have never had, too! I am excited to learn to cook in a new and different way.

meat

As a dedicated carnivore (sorry if that offends you) I am thrilled to have become familiar with our local butcher shop, Mike’s Meats. They are the nicest people and I have yet to have a bad piece of meat from them. The other nice thing is that all their meat is local. Even their eggs are local. And on this regime, meat and eggs are your friend. Yay! Tonight I am marinating some steak, using my own marinade from the Whole30 recipe list. I am excited. I am also hard boiling eggs, which my husband loves. We have some amazing meals planned. Another thing I am learning how to make is all our own sauces and condiments. First up? Mayonnaise!!! Got a set of Ball Jars to begin today!! So excited! And for an added note (and perhaps incentive) when we did all this shopping, our final tally was far below what we normally spend. Who would have thought that eating healthy is actually costing us less money? Most of the time, when I would try to add organic or healthier options, it seemed like I spent more money than I could afford. But leaving out dairy, breads, pastas, rice, buying extra stevia, and even packaged foods, cut way down on our bill. I’ll let you know what I think of coconut milk, by the way.

ball-jars

And so why, might you ask, are we doing this, and doing it now? Well, we can get in a good 30 days before the holiday season is here. We have lots of birthdays coming over the next few months, and that is another reason to start now. We also needed a clear 30 days on two calendars, with no events planned (we are ignoring Halloween, as usual). And we would like this way of eating in place and fully adopted as we face the sugary holidays with all that wonderful baking and cooking and eating. We are both overweight (dare I say obese???) and we want to be around a lot longer to enjoy our kids and grandchildren, friends and extended families. We want to be in better shape to enjoy the countryside we live in. There is so much to do, all year long. I want to try cross-country skiing. There is no way, in my current shape, I could do that. So it is my goal to learn to cross-country ski before I die a fat, old lady!  I am replacing her with a cross-country skiing grandma!!

ylsupplements

As part of our overall health over-haul, we began incorporating Young Living’s various supplements into our lives and cannot believe the difference they have made. When I was doing my research into supplements in general, it amazed me at how many unneeded additions were in over-the-counter options! Sugar is one of the unneeded additions, along with wheat and soy, and all sorts of things you can neither spell nor pronounce. At Young Living, they take such care in making sure everything is pure and unadulterated. Their “Seed to Seal” guarantee also holds true for their supplements, and is not allocated to just their amazing Essential Oils. They test and retest all along the way, until those containers are sealed, with a guarantee of purity for each of us. If you want to add a great morning supplement to your regime, and want to feel good, just try drinking 2-4 ounces of Ningxia Red juice every morning! I adore it. We are making sure our bodies are getting the best we can give them. I use Essentialzyme and Thyromin every day, ensuring my pancreas and thyroid are getting the support they need to function at their best. I also use Mind Wise, which gives me all those amazing nutritive ingredients to keep my mind sharp and me on my toes. With parents and family members having had different cancers and Alzheimer’s, we feel we need to be on top of our health and adding these supplements is giving us peace-of-mind.

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As we begin this journey, we do so looking to God and Heaven as our final destination. “And so, dear brothers and sisters, I plead with you to give your bodies to God because of all He has done for you. Let them be a living and holy sacrifice–the kind He will find acceptable. This is truly the way to worship Him.” (Romans 12:1)  We want to be the best we can be, body and soul. And eliminating food groups to become healthy seems like such a simple thing we can do. And it seems so small in light of eternity. If this gives us more time with our family and friends, I guess the local ice cream shops, pizza parlors, and bread stores will just have to survive without us! More later…

whole30books

Here are some sites for you to research, about what I have written in regards to the Whole30 program, as well as Young Living’s products:

http://whole30.com

http://www.youngliving.com

If you are curious, there are some wonderful supplements available from Young Living. I am thrilled to represent such an amazing company, as well as use all of their products myself. We use them in almost all aspects of our lives from cleaning our clothes and our home, to brushing our teeth and washing our hair, to some amazing Essential Oils and nutritional supplements helping us to maintain a healthy, and chemical free, lifestyle. Please drop me a message if you are curious. Here is my member number, should you like to order through me: 2523813. Thank you!

Spring cleaning, cleansing, planting….eternity

Spring

Today I read an article about Vitto Mortensen, the actor. (He was in The Lord of the Rings). He said that every morning, he wakes up thinking about death. He buried his mom last year (she had dementia) and he is at home, sitting with his dad as he prepares to pass away (and he also suffers from dementia). His vocabulary is peppered with lots of expletives, but one of the most interesting things about him is that he has pretty much not changed since he was a kid. He carries a flip-phone. He lives pretty isolated in Madrid most of the time. He goes home and eats at the local diner and no one bothers him. He drives a Ford rental car most of the time. He smokes like a chimney, and is planning to attend his 40-something high school reunion. And he carries a worn, leather journal with him wherever he goes, because he doesn’t want to miss anything. In the article the writer shared how he pulled over on the side of the road because he saw a gorgeous waterfall and wanted to stop and look at it. He’s a normal guy, and yet he is not. But I was drawn to his comments about aging and dying. He said, when he was a kid and realized he would die one day, “Who thought that up?” He does not want to die…ever. I don’t think any of us really want to die.

emojis
I took a class recently on emotional healing and our health. How our bodies are affected by our emotions. And I was given a health scan. It showed interesting results. Results I poo-poo’d until this week, when what I scanned for (an infection) showed up. In my stomach. And I have been giving myself gastric rest. What is that you may ask? Well, if you suffer from ulcers or gastritis, or even pancreatitis (which I have – twice), you learn that once in awhile our digestive process gets interrupted by bacteria and it attacks us. It has been proven that most ulcers are caused by a bacterial infection. And I know my emotions heap the acidic environment with lots more activity as I worry over things, or react to things that have happened in my life. I am a woman – we take things in. We put our arms around people and we love them. We mother them. (Those of us who tend to be motherly). To combat this, I give my stomach/digestive system a rest. I don’t eat. Anything. I drink water. For days at a time. For the past three days I have eaten 2 bowls of rice, several liters of water, and I shared a banana today with my two dogs (they love bananas!). All to give my digestion time to slow down, to ease off, to help fight this bacteria invading my body. But the pain and the hunger make me a little cranky, not to mention I have not had coffee the past 3 days (the headache was gone day #1). So basically I am doing a cleanse but without feeding myself much besides a little starch and some water.

Leaveswater

I have been introduced to essential oils. A lot of poo-pooing is going on about them and I am fine with that. But our lives have dramatically changed since we started using them. We have incorporated the philosophy of using little to no chemicals in our home, on our bodies, or in our bodies. We have a long way to go. But, I can honestly say I have removed cleaners and detergents from my home and I am way happier about it. I have been feeling like a huge weight follows me around (sometimes I know it is just my rather robust backside) and through clearing out the junk in our lives, we are feeling better. And it really started with essential oils. We use them rather than other choices, for many things. Each morning I start my day by diffusing a wonderful scent into the house, inspiring me to get up and move. I add oils to my water for a nice change and to assist my digestive system to keep moving. I cook with them, using a drop or two at the most to flavor our foods. In the evenings, I diffuse with lavender for a restful sleep. I wash my clothes with essential oil soaps. I use 100% wool dryer balls, scented with lavender or perhaps the blend, “Purification,” if the load is really stinky (fishing, gardening, teenage workout clothes). I have stopped using bleach because the soap I use is so good, my whites are still knock-out white. I wash my home with natural cleaners I make up myself, using essential oils. I made my own deodorant and face/body scrub, and face lotion using essential oils. I brush my teeth with essential oil toothpaste; I wash my hair with essential oil-based products containing no chemicals. It has been a long journey, to be rid of the chemicals in our home. And purging takes its toll.

So now I’ve been ill over a week with this stomach thing. But I am persevering through it, because I know I am moving in the right direction. I am cleaning up my act. I am getting closer to the dirt, as they say. An article I read about PTSD the other day noted that most of our culture is far removed from what it takes to run this society. We do not interact with those who provide our basics – farmers, electricians, trash collectors, fishermen – we shop at stores and we use the internet. We don’t realize what goes into keeping our world turning, and how at times, people actually sacrifice their lives to ensure our little worlds in our quiet neighborhoods goes on, uninterrupted. Part of our using these oils and products made from them, helps us to get down to a more natural, closer-to-the-dirt existence. We simplify a lot when we eat organic and grow our own veggies. In the long run, I would rather skip that $5 latte and buy $5 organic eggs. I buy organic coffee beans, grind them myself, and make my own lattes. It just makes more sense. And life grinds down to the simpler components, which makes breathing so much easier, and stress far less.

seedling
This year, for our garden, we are planting seeds cultivated to grow in this climate. They are heirloom seeds. We already brought in nutrients to the soil in our raised beds. We started our seeds in the house, in biodegradable pods. It was so fun to plant them with our grandchildren. My grandson (4) walked over to the table about an hour afterwards, leaned on his elbows, and stared at the dirt. He then proclaimed, “I think they’re growing, grandma.”  What joy that gave me. We face-timed a few days later and he saw the little seedlings popping up and then told me he would come over with his shovel to help grandpa in the garden! We love that we can share this natural and simple way of growing our food, and eating it directly from our garden, with our grandchildren. We love that we can grow what we want to eat, and nurture it along until harvest. It feels good.

Bug Spray

Last night I made my own bug spray using essential oils, witch hazel, and water. Around here, the joke is that the mosquito is the state bird. And they have hatched! To work in the garden means we will get bitten…they seem to love me. So I am using my oils to combat a pest. I am doing it naturally. And that feels good (oh, and it works, too! Bonus!).

All of this goes to the beginning thoughts of dying. I am dying. We all are dying. As our birthdays climb, and the years pass us by, dying is much more of a reality. It gets closer with each day. Am I ready? Am I spring-cleaned? Cleansed? Have I planted seeds for my eternity? Am I getting closer to the dirt? All of these thoughts have assailed me this year, through getting healthier, developing better health habits both for my body, and for my soul. I have read some amazing books, participated in some incredible “Bible Studies” that have moved me, and have met some wonderful people. Have things gone well? Not particularly. I have had “bugs” assail me, trying to knock me off my course. “Bugs” come at us all the time. What natural repellent are we using? Prayer? Silence? Fasting? Cleansing?

God up to something

I think that the more we try to get to the nano-cellular-level in life, to get down to what we called the “nitty-gritty,” then the evil one assails us. Mightily. We fight on so many fronts. But our God has given us the power to vanquish these assaults. He tells us to “rejoice at all times. Pray without ceasing. Give thanks in every circumstance, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.…” (1Thess 5:16-18). God’s will is that we are victorious. That we stand with Him for eternity. Pesky things like illnesses, which cleaner to use, what food to eat, who to share our lives with, all play a part in our eternity. Listening to a periscope talk the other day, a woman said she had never just “given.” That she had helped people, was a good Christian woman, but that she had never just “given.” She tithed, she helped in her community, but she always took. She made sure she got what she needed, too. She never just shared Christ just to share. She felt blessed to have found Christ in her life, but she had never just shared, never just given, without expectation. And that struck me and stuck with me for the past couple of days. I realized that it is part of our personal Spring Cleaning, of cleansing ourselves, and planting for our eternity. We need to just give – of ourselves, of our God, of our time. We need to be present. We need to be simple. Get closer to the dirt of life. At least for me, it is essential to my bodily health, my emotional health, and my spiritual health to be simpler. To ease off the stressful, complicated part of life and get back to quiet, humble, simple. Make some sun tea on my back deck. Take time to plant. To play in the garden with my grandkids. To go fishing with my husband. To just sit in the sun and share my time with those I love. To spring clean my home, body, life, and soul. It is time.

Spiritual Spring Cleaning