Family Dinners

We are counting down the days over here until this lovely lady becomes a Mrs. 

As she & Caleb have become more and more of each other's lives, our friendship has evolved to fit,

turning Sunday evenings into our time to connect from week to week.

Meeting at Amy's place, 

we'd share together in the task of preparing

whatever yumminess we'd had on our collective heart that week.

We'd take the quiet of the evening to share other matters of our hearts as they'd appeared since last we'd sat in the company of each other,

contemplating life and the things of God together,

with Choco checking in with us every once in awhile.

Since our little family dinners are precious to us,

and since we celebrated the night of their engagement at a local establishment of yumminess,

we decided another visit was appropriate for this last Sunday's Dinner, to celebrate:

the last one before the big day!

Today is the rehearsal and accompanying fun,
tomorrow, wedding bells!!!

BFFs

Meet Mandy, my childhood BFF:  Best Friend Forever.

We had the necklace and everything, 

the one that splits a heart in half, 

the one that says that without the other, 

things are not quite right.

It was a legacy for us to fulfill; our mothers were best friends, then our fathers.  Our houses were interchangeable, our chauffeurs one  parent or the other.  We didn't even notice the difference as we were shuttled from church to home to the other's home and back.  

And then, when I was 13 and she was 12, Uncle Al got a job in Texas and away they went.  I still remember their last night, the hotel room they were staying in, my tears on the way home as my dad and I passed the bowling alley our childhood knew.  

That memory and more came flooding back this past weekend,

when we all gathered at my parent's house 

for hamburgers and hot dogs and overall:

REUNION.

Since we hadn't seen each other since I made the trip to Texas when I was 20, I had yet to meet this lovely child,

who in some ways reminds me of her mother and in other ways shows me she is a woman all her own,  

sweetness and strength wrapped into one.

We spent the evening reminiscing, looking for remnants of our early years in photo albums and in each other.

Sunday morning found us in church, sitting next to each other as we often did, tears in our eyes as we watched visions of little girls dance across the stage, as we reflected on where we've been since then and that once again we were right where we needed to be: Together.

After church was over, we visited the magical garden in the back of the building, and called to mind our childhood fantasies, our childhood hurts, our childhood laughter, our childhood hearts.

The necklace might be long gone, but the message is the same:

Doesn't matter where we are or if we never talk;

this woman knows me in ways no one else ever will.

My BF, Forever.

[Love you Mand. 

So good to be with you, even for the littlest bit.]

Once in a lifetime?

A few weeks ago, some friends and I drove two or so hours out into the countryside, to join in on a barn dance

given by the friends of this friend.

We gathered in the barn,

we listened to instruction.

We found ourselves a partner (wish I could remember his name!)

and laughed and danced our hearts away.

It may or may not happen again in my lifetime, but for now:

A barn dance, once, at least.

Hope, in the hands of an Expert

Allow me to tell you a very sad story:

I love all things green, and yet every plant I try to breathe life into ultimately dies.

This causes me much grief.

I do the very best I can.  I bring the poor little doomed things home, I put some soil in a pot, I stick them in there and hope for some thriving.

Until?   Dead.

In analyzing my situation I've thought:  Is it the soil, not healthy enough, or not the right amount? Or, is it the pot, too small, too large, too round?  Is it the watering, do I even know what water is?  And I've been tempted to just give up.

But here's the thing: It's summer! And, summer should mean fresh herbs, thriving and beautiful and spilling over my deck.

So, this weekend, as I was driving past a nursery on the outskirts of town, I slammed on my brakes, and put on my turn signal.  Gosh darn it, I was going to have me some herbs.

I got out of my car, and meandered through the prolific greens scattered over the ground.  I thought 'Somebody knows how to do this...' and couldn't decide between the abject failure or the ultimate hope bubbling around in my heart.  That was when this tanned little woman walked up to me and said 'Can I help you?'

Little did she know what she was asking.  I turned to her, and spilled my sob story on the ground around her feet.  I told her every detail of my hopelessness, and do you know what she said?

Pick some out, and I'll pot them for you.

And this is what my heart heard:  Hope, from the hands of someone who knows what she's doing, extended as a gift, to my abject little self.

And so, that evening, I found myself out on that deck, spending time with my herbs.

Herbs that have been potted correctly, in soil that is rich and nutritious, with instructions on how to keep them alive, by someone who knows them so well that she actually said things like 'Rosemary likes such and such, and so it needs this and this', as if she were talking about her dearest friend; by someone who is an expert.

The next morning found me back on the deck, as the sun rose and the air breathed birdsong and the mystery of early quiet.  It found me realizing--as I sat in quiet harmony with them--that I didn't even know how tired I was of living a life without herbs!  It found me realizing the wonder of what God does:

He puts me in the right pot, with healthy soil, and teaches me how to thrive, by saying things like 'Lauren likes such and such, and so she needs this and this', because He knows me; He is an Expert in me.

It found me dwelling in quiet companionship with this bird, who joined me in my reflection on the heart of this Expert as I read in Isaiah 44:

Remember these things.  I have made you...I will not forget you.  I have swept away your offenses like a cloud, your sins like the morning mist.  Return to me, for I have redeemed you.

And as that bird sang out, I read:

For this is what the Lord says--he who created the heavens, he is God; he who fashioned and made the earth, he founded it; he did not create it to be empty, but formed it to be inhabited, he says:


I am the Lord, and there is no other.  I have not spoken in secret, from somewhere in a land of darkness; I have not said 'seek me in vain'.  I, the Lord, speak the truth; I declare what is right.

And as the sun rose, I saw His declaration, felt its warm glow on my face, and was reminded:

Sing for joy, O heavens, for the Lord has done this; shout aloud, O earth beneath.  Burst into song, you mountains, you forests and all your trees, for the Lord has redeemed Jacob; and he displays his glory in Israel.


And so, with the help of these experts I can walk out my days, with my herbs, in full comfort and confidence, because I trust their expertise.  And because I know, in Expertise I find Hope.

Hope, from the hands of someone who knows what He's doing, extended as a gift, to my abject little self.

Fully thriving, spending quality time with living greens, singing for Joy, the display of God's glory.

A celebration, well earned

When your matriarch turns 90,

!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the only appropriate response is to throw a giant party.

That would be why these daughters stellar gathered together relatives and friends,

to let her know her 90 years have not been wasted.

The guests gathered around the girl of the moment,

as she reviewed a retrospective of her life,

put together in honor of the occasion.

They also listened quite diligently, as our family historian explained his research into where this royal lady can trace her roots. [I don't recall the details, but something about the ruling family of the Netherlands and we American cousins...I always knew I was special.]

These things aside, however, I suppose there were a variety of reasons these guests might have shown up.

Quite possibly, they really just came for 

the giant platters of [cellophane?] meat & cheese,

and the other traditional Knyfd food, 

as defined by said matriarch over the course of her 90 years.

Although, more realistically, what they really came for was

the cutest dog in the world,

and the cutest baby.

[Maybe someday she'll actually know me...]

Although, they may also have been interested in a peek at our famed madman,

who drove through the night in order to keep us all from disappointment, the birthday girl especially.

At the end of the day, however, I suppose that their real motivation was to be a part of the happy love in the air,

the special time to be together,

and the spunky little lady who made it all possible.

Happy Birthday Grandma,

we love you!