The Fixer

The child watches in awe and wonder as the brilliant colors emerge from the ugly brown bug-egg. Tentatively, the butterfly unfolds its wings, testing, making each movement an agonizingly slow process. The child quivers with excitement, trembling with the desire to help, to get the butterfly where it should be, but controls the impulse, afraid to break the enchantment of the moment. Finally, golden wings fully extended, glistening in the sunlight against the backdrop of glossy green leaves, the butterfly seems poised to take flight.....but remains motionless. Finally, the child can stand no more, and takes hold of the butterfly, ever so gently, and tosses it into the air. "Fly, fly, it's what you were born to do!"
And the beautiful creation, it's not-quite dry wings barren where the childs gentle touch has brushed off the tiny, fragile feathers that are the essence of its flight, falls to the ground, never to fly, but to await death. And something that was beautiful is gone, before it had a chance to fly.

Personal Easter

Every year in spring, I need to be reminded of the joy of being alive in God's creation. Despite my determination NEVER to act my age, as winter drags on with its dreary skies, short days, bone-chilling cold, I find shadows of emptiness, alone-ness, and fear insinuating themselves into my thoughts at every turn. Before I even realize what is happening, I am in danger of becoming overwhelmed by fear and hopelessness, a lethargy of "why bother" and "I can't"...

Then comes that one spring day, when the warmth finally overcomes the chill, brilliant sunshine, sapphire sky, when God says "Look what I made for you! Come out and play! The excitement courses through me, energy rises, and I can almost hear the falling water, feel the breeze in my hair and the warmth of the sun on my skin, and I remember I am alive!

Consider the Birds of the Air

I've found myself watching birds a lot lately. It seems the more unstable and uncertain the "big picture" becomes, the calmer I am, and the more focused on nature. In the mornings on my way to work, I catch just a glimpse of a series of lakes (actually a fish farm). At the worst of the drought, one of these lakes was completely dry, with knee-high grass in the bottom. As the rain came back, I watched the lake slowly start to fill, and it gave me hope. One morning, after the rains started, I saw a flash of white, and looked over to see a great snowy egret wading in the water. Now I see it daily, often accompanied by a great blue heron. Large water birds remind me of being a child at my grandmother's house on the lake in Florida. I can remember waking up early to go down to the water and sit very still to watch the blue heron fishing for his breakfast, then walking back to the house with a freshly picked grapefruit for my own breakfast.

Bluebirds are another reminder of hope for me. I first saw these happy little guys sitting on a telephone line singing to the sunset. When we moved to our "house in the woods", our backyard was full of them. Then the developer decide to clear almost 2 acres of the woods, and it seemed they were gone, but now that construction is finished, they seem to be returning--another sign of hope....

Hawks! Predators, but oh how beautiful. Yes, Amanda, I like them too, as long as they leave my bunnies alone--but that's another story...We have a pair of hawks that nest in our woods every year. I love to hear their cries in the early morning.....

But now, today, birds give me peace. They don't care what happens on Wall Street, they don't worry about whether the local gas station has fuel, they eat, they fly, they sing, whether the market is up or down, whether the Democrats or Republicans are ahead in the polls. They just keep on doing what they do.

May we all learn this lesson!

Do-Overs

I just tried to read that first post, and even I don't know what I meant!!! Let's try this again!

I will turn 50 this year. Very late this year, but this year. The number doesn't bother me, really. Most of my friends have been 50+ for a while, and they don't seem "old", so why should it bother me?

Change-the order of our existence. Ten years ago, I was a Christian, church-going, college-educated stay at home mom, political activist, PTA president, crafter/seamstress extraordinaire, the perfect image of thirty-something wifehood! My future seemed mapped out on the perfect yellow brick road of getting my kids into the right high schools to get ready for the right college, to find the perfect match, to make grandchildren for my husband and me to spoil, and live happily ever after.

Then, within a month, my life started turning upside down. My "baby brother" and only sibling died suddenly at 35. My husband lost his job, we lost our home and moved ourselves and the kids into my parents basement. A year later, we lost our marriage.

Just before the tragedies started, I had a "moment" from God, who told me things were going to get rough, but if I trusted him, he would bring me through it.

Ten years later, I am a Christian, church-going divorced woman with an MBA and a pseudo-career as an analyst. My children are out of high school, one still in college. Neither of them is interested or ready to find the perfect match, they are still working on finding themselves.

Hence, we're not in Kansas any more. It suddenly dawned on me as I planned my parents' 50th wedding anniversary celebration, that I won't have a 50th anniversary. I may not have grandchildren. If I do, I'll probably still be working and won't have any time to spoil them!

The milestones I always expected to find in life aren't there anymore. I love my life now, but I sometimes wonder what the next milestone will be. When I really get scared, I remember that voice that said "Trust me, I'll get you through it". I'm still along for the ride.


~Dorothy

Which Way?

For as long as I knew him, my late father in law had a sign on his desk which read "Change is the order of our existence." As I grow older, I have begun to absorb the truth of this statement. As time passes, change happens. Paths which once seemed clearly marked and straight become obscured, blocked, and overgrown. Destinations which were at one time foregone conclusions disappear as new paths and unimaginable alternatives come into view. Which way from here? The well-worn path? The road less travelled? Or maybe it's time for bushwhacking and blazing a new trail.

Time will tell.....


~Dorothy