nourishing the soul through work and rest

I spent two days this week in my parents' storage area/attic working at clearing out stuff and cleaning up unwanted or broken items. It was hot, humid and dirty both days and by the time dinner was over, it was all I could do to get my three kids ready for bed before collapsing into my bed myself with little motivation to think real hard.  By the end of the second day of hard, dirty work, surrounded by piles of sorted stuff, I felt a bit out of sorts. As if the reward of all this clearing out had come at a personal cost to me, one that cost me something that I felt I needed. It dawned on me very soon, I was parched.  My soul, the real me was feeling parched. While I was thankful to have accomplished much for my parents' sake, I felt that I had neglected something very necessary to my state of joy and wonder in my soul. For two days, I had not taken time to enjoy the beauty of the summer day on my parents' beautiful property, capturing with my camera and my own eye the glorious aspects of God's creation. I had drained myself in my work and had not taken time to walk around and notice beauty. I was simply too weary to motivate myself to get out there and enjoy anything.  And it only took two days of missing this important time before I felt the neglect in my own spirit.

I am so happy to be accomplishing something helpful to my parents. I am thrilled that they can let go of things, especially the hard things like my brother Tim's clothes and personal effects. They are not seeking comfort in his things, they seek comfort from God's kindness to them.  I am excited that there will be more space to store the necessary items in a more organized and functional way. It is rewarding to work and accomplish a goal.
It is also necessary to take time to read, meditate and enjoy the goodness, truth and beauty around us. And then to be able to record what the eyes see, the mind thinks, and the soul rejoices over is a gift from our Creator.  To pray for the persecuted church while one boxes up old Bibles for charity, to remember God's faithfulness to our family in having this home together, for enjoying the memories of years gone by, to be free from needing the stuff around us to give us contentment and to remember with hope of seeing our loved ones again in the new heavens and the new earth.  All this is a gracious gift, but for me also taking time to enjoy God's creation is what further nourishes my soul and gives new life to my spirit and cannot suffer neglect.

Celebrating fifty years

Aside from the photos of my parents, most of the photos do not show the rest of our family and friends. Not everyone is on social media so I won't post their photos without their permission. But we did have a full house of about 25-30 of us there together. We kept it very small and informal at my mom's request and did not even tell my dad about the party until the morning of when he informed me that he had ordered a cake for the weekend. That was a funny surprise. His cake went to church the next morning to share with the church family and it all worked out well.

After heading out early in the morning to forage wild flowers from around my parents property, I placed them in my Ikea enamel pitchers and set out the other flower arrangements so I could concentrate on the food prep.
Aside from my sister and her family, my brother and his family, my aunt and uncle from out of town, we just invited one family who we have been very close for almost my parents whole marriage. They have four grown children, two of whose families attended as well. Only a few introductions were needed, most of us having grown up together. My aunt arrived early in the morning after I returned from the grocery store with the cake and food and was a huge help in getting all the fruits and veggies washed and prepared for the serving platters. I could not have done it without her. My mom ironed the tablecloths and prepared one of the dishes my dad likes. The rest of the family pitched in and helped in many ways, from hanging the bunting and setting up the patio table and chairs, to bringing and arranging the food, plates, napkins and cutlery and picking fresh garnishes for the platters. It all came together in short amount of time with everyone doing whatever needed to be done.

We were supplied with two large containers of homemade iced tea by our family friends and other treats to eat. I also had made lemonade syrup following the recipe from here ahead of time to which my aunt added cold water, lemon slices, and fresh mint until we were happy with the flavor. This is my second time making it and it is very tasty.

To supplement the dessert table, I had made ahead of time, my mother-in-law's whipped shortbread cookies with the cherry in the middle, old fashioned snickerdoodles and addicting peanut butter fudge squares. Earlier that morning, I dipped strawberries in white chocolate, drizzled with milk chocolate. I prefer them dipped in milk chocolate, but I used what I had.  Somehow it all managed to make it to platters, many arranged by my ever present aunt, with just me working on the tiered fruit tray.

With the table set, our family friend prayed for God's blessing over our time and then at my aunt's suggestion, my parents led the way in filling their plates. I confess, I did not eat very much during the party, I still had the cake to figure out. The dining room chairs plus extras had been nicely arranged around the family room area to allow for seating and several people headed outside to the back deck and enjoyed the sunshine. My kids and my nieces and nephews ran around outside after eating which was perfect for them.

After eating, my parents cut the cake together and each enjoyed a bite before my dad said a few words about their marriage and thanked us all for the time together at the party. While everyone was enjoying cake and desserts, we set up a television to watch a dvd version of my parents' wedding film. It was only the second time, my parents had seen it and it was fun to watch it with everyone and hear the funny comments and oohs and aahs.

My parents were married at my mom's childhood home in the town where they both were raised. I do have good memories of that house, the gardens and the landscape, most of which have changed with new owners. It was nostalgic to see it how I remembered it as a child. I look like my mother quite a bit, so watching her on the film felt like looking in a mirror, a retro mirror.  And of course to see a young version of my dad, my uncle and my grandparents (both sides) was special too.

We finished up our time together later by taking a family photo of us. My parents have three surviving children and seven grandchildren from ages four to eleven, including a set of twin grandsons. Some of you know that my youngest brother, Tim passed away in 2003 from his injuries sustained in a car accident. I have posted about that before if you want to look for the label in the right sidebar or at the end of this post with his name.
We are not a perfect family(oh boy), but we do enjoy our time together. Shane and I are the only ones who currently live out of state(and country), so my parents are fortunate to have most of their grandchildren and children close by right now.

(I've been posting in segments about our recent weekend trip, so if you missed those posts, you can just click on the Prone to Wander header image at the top of the page and it will take you to the main page of my blog and you can scroll down to see other recent posts.)

not in despair

Tim, sometime around 198?

Today marks ten years since my family experienced the loss of my youngest brother. Ten years ago, Shane and I were still in the first year of our marriage, expecting our first baby and also our first nephew.

Up to that point, I had experienced very little in the way of grief and sorrow. Yes, I had known family, friends and acquaintances who had died, some young and very unexpectedly, some older and more expectantly, but none that had brought shock and sorrow such as this.

Now in the subsequent years, I have lost my dear friend, Euri and our mutual dear friend's baby girl, Erica Faith and have grieved with another very dear friend over the loss of her beautiful mother. The list could go on.

Grief and sorrow are no longer strangers, but companions that walk along the way. Blurry tears and lumpy throats come unbidden at times, wondering what life would be like without these moments. But there is thankfulness for parents, family and friends who do not give into despair, but clearly point to the One who gives the strength to continue life's journey and who say with the apostle Paul:

...we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed but not in despair. ~ 2 Cor. 4:7,8

I continue to pray for you, my dear friends and family who know such grief and sorrow. May you know His comfort and be encouraged to know that you are not alone, not ever. You are not forgotten and are loved beyond words.

*For previous posts about Tim or Euri, please click on the labels/tags with their names found directly below, in the footer of this post.  

Growing up after he's gone

This is a tribute of sorts to my brother Tim who lost in his life in a car accident on March 8, 2003. I have written about it here as well, but wanted this post to remind me of the memories we created as kids and that for me bring laughter despite the sadness.

One of the disappointments of losing a younger brother when he's just twenty-four is that some shared memories become lonely ones. Like when we used to ice skate in our slippers on the carpeted living room floor as a couple. And of course we always spent more time pretending to be the couples who got tripped up and fell or were spinning too much and hit the ground at a dizzying rate. Laughter and giggles always came after. And then there was the shameful practice of imitating those poor saints at our local church. Poor Mrs. Feldges who warbled her elderly voice along with the rest of us. We would pinch our necks, give the skin a little shake and off we would sing in falsetto screeches. Shameful stuff, but always more laughter. Or we would re-enact the completely opposite ways two different women would wipe their lips after sipping from the communion cup. Mrs. Priscilla Wallace, a dainty dear lady always brought out her dainty lace-edged hanker-chief and would carefully dab at small spots around her lips. Meanwhile Mrs. Pruitt, a lively lady would simply take her arm and wipe her mouth with her shirt sleeve. We often hid smiles as we watched this weekly activity making sure we got the act down pat for later play.
And of course who hasn't pretended to have the Lord's Supper, replete with grape Kool-aid and bread or crackers. Prayers would be offered up with references to other church members and hymns sung with gusto. Finally the moment would come to take the elements and we would indeed "drink ye all of it".
Then there was the moment when we turned cartwheels and did handstands and flips in the living room when we heard that we were going to Disney World with our cousins. Oh the excitement and the waiting for March break to come.
We also endured the annual first day of school pictures where laden down with copious amounts of school supplies and fancy new clothes we would have to smile and pretend to enjoy ourselves. Some pictures are quite memorable with Tim bent forward laughing hysterically at who knows what.

I imagine that when Tim passes Mrs. Feldges in the hallways of heaven, surely he must be holding in the smiles and giggles of a time long ago when she unwittingly gave him much to laugh over with the older sister who should have known better.

Bittersweet

Here's a Hip-hip-Hooray! My mother is en route to visit us! "Memmem is coming", says my little guy. This has always been a difficult week for my family since we lost my youngest brother in an automobile accident three years ago this week. We trust that he's with the Lord, yet we miss him here with us.
Tim was 24 years old and the only occupant of the vehicle, his infamous yellow mustang. He was single and still living at home with my parents. In fact, he was putting the finishing touches on the room he renovated incorporating my old bedroom into his. He knocked down my bedroom wall, closed up my doorway and proceeded to paint the whole thing six coats of red. He then filled it up with the lushest carpet I have ever walked on, three pieces of black leather furniture, one queen-sized bed and a huge home entertainment system. It was his lounge pad. Now my husband and I get to enjoy it when we are home visiting my parents.
He knew that he was going be an uncle, two times over actually as both my sister-in-law and I were due later in the spring. I often wish he could be here to see the boys. He would have laughed himself silly over their antics. We chose to remember him by giving our son the middle name of Timothy. Now his picture hangs inside my armoire and my son is learning who his uncle was.