Sun Rays

In the right light, at the right time, everything is extraordinary.  ~Aaron Rose

I found this beautiful sight right out my front door. The clouds hid the December evening sun; the brightness sharply outlining the edges of the clouds. The rays of sunlight burst across the sky and honestly took my breath away. I drove up the road and picked up my mother because I simply had to share this view with someone. I had to have a witness to validate it in my memory. 

 

I imagined that the heavens were behind the cloud and while we were not permitted to look directly at it, God provided the glorious rays as a testament to the beauty. I also thought of hope and faith; that the old saying, "behind every cloud there is a silver lining" was totally true. This photo illustrates the awe behind the clouds and the faith it takes to know that there is light behind the darkness.

 

This I believe...

Life and Cookies

I’m baking Christmas cookies! This is a big deal why? Well, let’s just say in my “other life” I baked tons of cookies each Christmas time. I also baked with my much-loved Grammie. She taught me to make homemade frosting, pie and other yummy recipes. Grammie always had cookies in her freezer, ready at an instant to display on a plate to offer to anyone who stopped by.

Recently, I found a holiday tin with the words, “Peanut butter, 2001” taped to it. It brought back memories of helping Gram with her Christmas baking. Gram had shoulder surgery in the fall of 2001, and was unable to complete her usual baking, so I went shopping and made the lists of the traditional treats and spent a couple of long days in her kitchen. Gram directed from the table and I worked. She was able to frost cookies and I did all of the grunt work. We had fun, visiting and remembering times past. She told me about her youth in North Dakota on her family’s large farm. She told of snow and sleigh rides to church. She told of her older brothers and how they would always dump the sleigh in a snow bank, causing all of them to look like festive snowmen. She told me of how she loved to read before going to sleep at night and how her father would knock on her bedroom door and tell her to turn out her oil lamp. That brought back memories of me as a child, holding a flashlight under the covers to finish “just one more page.”

During Christmas of 2001, my life was going through many emotional changes. Working my way through a long divorce, smiles were hard to find. It was comforting to know that the time I spent with Grammie was “safe.” It was a place where you felt loved and I needed that then.

I honestly haven’t baked much since that Christmas. My heart was not in it and too many other things got in the way. Christmas became a time to put on a “game face” for my children and smile even when I felt like going to bed and pulling the covers over my head until the season was over. Baking reminded me of my old home and all of the busyness of being a mom and a wife. Funny how some things, like baking, in this instance, define a time and a place.

Well, this year I decided to get with it and make some family traditional cookies; snowballs, sugar cookies, molasses cookies, to name a few. Sometimes it’s the simple little things that can inspire you to forge ahead and make your way through. For me it was the little dented holiday tin with the masking tape label that read, “Peanut butter, 2001.”

I miss you, Grammie. With each cookie, I think of you.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

It’s a quiet Sunday evening. Preparing for Christmas and another workweek. Tired of doing that, so now for some bloggin’…

Do I have something wise to say? Some words to live by? Hmm…well, for all of you out there that are apprehensive at holiday time, I say, “Chill.”

Holidays bring out the best and the worst in people. My daughter was talking to me about my “annual holiday funk.” She told me that I needed to snap out of it and get with it. I explained that it is easier said than done. At holidays, especially Christmas, the world tells us its “family time.” Mom, dad, brother, sister, even the family dog should be wishing everyone peace on earth. For those of us that don’t have the typical family unit, it can be hard, especially if you are a perfectionist, someone who strives to get it right. It’s an adjusting of the senses and expectations. I always feel guilt at holiday time…I should have been able to keep the family together (yeah right), I should have a perfect house (in another life), I should be independently wealthy (threw that one in there…ha) and I should be Mother of the Year each and every year. Well…like a broken record that refuses to skip…it just keeps on repeating that same part over and over each December and I get trapped in the scheme. Gerbil in a wheel, anyone?

I think one just gets so used to feeling this way that when the holidays roll around a person goes in to auto mode and starts buying pity party supplies. I don’t know what it is about being the mother that makes a woman feel like it was their responsibility to raise the kids right and to be the keeper of the flame. Why do some dad’s get away with so much less? Why do some men skip out and become less of a parent and not lose one minute of sleep about it?

My kids are raised and have made it through some pretty twisted times. I have tons to be thankful for and believe me, I am VERY thankful. My kids are wonderfully human adults and I am so glad they are in my life. I have awesome friends and co-workers that are like family and I go to work each day with a smile, because I love my job. My soul is at peace with my Jesus and I know He guides my way. I’m a pretty blessed lady.

So…I think I’ve created a habit, because this is the 7^th Christmas I have been single. I think it’s time to put the holiday funk to rest, don’t you think? It’s getting old and I’m bored with it. So I’m officially resigning from the Mother of the Year running and I’m forming an “It is what it is and it’s all good” club.

It will save so much time. J

Thoughts on a Cold Thanksgiving Morning

Note:
I have been away for far too long. Sometimes life is enough and it's too much trouble getting it down on paper (digital paper at least). But I made a promise to someone very special to me that I would begin writing again. So thanks, Cousin Alan for inspiring me to "get to it." I love you very much.

It’s 7:00 a.m. on Thanksgiving morning. Today we are ordered by the date on the calendar to be thankful. Visions of a traditional table, laden with a perfectly browned turkey and all of the delicious dishes that accompany…oh yes…and the perfect pies (homemade, of course). All of the family is there, no chair is empty and all are smiling and everyone is happy to be there, just like the famous Norman Rockwell painting shown above.

Does your life measure up to this expectation of perfection? Mine does not and to be honest, I don’t know of many lives that do. We all have “issues” within our lives and holidays seem to bring those issues out of the dark and into the glaring light.

Some have lost loved ones to death or divorce and the empty chair will once again remind them of the loss. As they try to hold back their tears and the turkey turns to sawdust in their mouth, their hearts break all over again for the missing loved one. Dreams, plans and expectations are wiped away and replaced by a new reality that is in direct conflict with society’s mandate for a “happy holiday.”

Another newsflash: Not everyone plays fair. Siblings and relatives grow up and relationships get…uh…complicated. Not all families are united in the game called Life. Another wrench in the quest for the perfect holiday.

So you see…it can seem pretty overwhelming and well…at times even depressing. Why bother, you might say. The good news is that there is a way to be thankful…really truly thankful in spite of feelings. Learn this truth: Feelings are fleeting and can be pretty wacky. They change, they can deceive, they can cause us to go crazy and at other times they can cause us to feel exhilarated and so happy we could “just bust.”  The secret is to get yourself some faith. Faith that God means it when He says that He has a plan for you and that it is a good plan. That He means it when He says that he counts your tears and knows your heartbreak. He will hold you in the palm of His hand and will keep you all of the days of your life. No…He does NOT say we won’t have dark times and “feel” like we are sinking, but He DOES say that He will be there with us and take us through those times and if you “decide” to trust Him, your feelings will follow your decision. Feelings depend upon outward circumstances. They change according to what’s going on in our emotional lives. On the other hand, joy depends upon God and our decision to trust Him with our lives.

Sounds easy? NOT! We are human and even when you are trusting God, you might still “feel” afraid, alone and vulnerable. That’s ok, because God understands the way we tick. He knows that we are only human. But be comforted because you know that feelings pass and that the joy in your heart does not pass because it is based upon the One who NEVER changes.

So…today, when you go through Thanksgiving…if you are “feeling” down or desperate, reach out to someone else. Because we all are in this game of Life together and reaching out to someone else is the best way to take focus off of ourselves and spread the joy around. Kind of a “pay it forward” way to look at things. It’s good for the soul.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Little Egypt

Southern Illinois...Little Egypt they call it. Different from the rest of the State of Illinois. Very southern in speech, foods and traditions. Most of the folks here are descendants of pioneers that migrated north from Tennessee, Kentucky and Georgia in search of fertile farmland and homesteads. They brought with them their southern traditions and ways of living that have traveled down through the generations. My dad is one of these people. He says "karn" instead of "corn" and "tarlit" instead of "toilet." In fact, I have been accused by some of slipping into a hillbilly tone when I'm excited or tired (that's "tarred." :)

Back to why they call the region "Little Egypt." The southern part of Illinois is very fertile farmland, wedged between two great rivers; the Mississippi River on the west and the Ohio River on the east. In the 1800's there was a drought in the northern/central part of Illinois and food was scarce. However, Southern Illinois farmers were blessed with successful crops, so people from the north traveled south to buy food, just as Jacob's family traveled to Egypt in Bible times to get food from their brother, Joseph. This is when the region began to be known as Little Egypt.

The path my ancestors took to Southern Illinois began in the Carolina's, then on to Georgia, then Central Tennessee (the Nashville area) then to Saline County, Illinois. My dad's family settled in Franklin County in a small town named Christopher, Illinois.

When I was a child, the family farm on Parker Street just north of Christopher was our annual summer vacation destination. We would leave the cool Pacific Northwest and drive for 3.5 days to Illinois. When we reached our destination, I remember the pungent smell of the warm, humid Illinois air, the music of crickets and the evening sight of lightning bugs. Everything seemed different than I was used to, and it was. I was used to the crispness of the marine air and the chill of dewy mornings and evenings. Everything in Southern Illinois seemed older and more "down home." It is older, there is many more years of history here compared to the West.

For several years I was unable to make the trip to Southern Illinois. I was busy raising my children and running a farm. Now my children are grown and I am able to make the trip with my parents. I have had the opportunity to sit with my father and hear stories about his childhood and young manhood days. I have discovered things about our family that enable me to see my father in a clearer way.

We will be here for a few more days, then on to Tennessee. In the meantime I will etch the vision of the small towns and forgotten buildings that hold stories that will never be told. I will visit the places I experienced as a child and commit them to my mind's eye. I will laugh at the lightning bugs and watch out for snakes. I will photograph the moments that inspire me and regret the moments I did not catch. I will enjoy my vacation and file away another years worth of memories.

Then I will come home...