My 93 year old grandmother:

Is one of the only people to routinely 

remind me that--oh, right!--I am a Dr.,

and to routinely send me coupons she has clipped herself, 

which routinely involve bladder leakage.

She just makes me smile.

Life [Group] is Sweet

Every Wednesday in my sweet little town, 

there is a farmer's market

just up the street from my sweet little cottage.

And at this farmer's market,

there is routinely a food truck, serving up delicious treats.

Also on Wednesdays in this summer, 

my sweet little gaggle of "Life Group" women have been meeting for dinner, plus some good old-fashioned sharing and studying.

Our dinners are usually a communal effort;

we all swing in with an ingredient or two,

and then we stir things all together,

and whip up some kind of nourishing goodness.

But this week?

We headed to the food truck.

There were Greek inspired baskets,

and there were things made mainly of cheese.

[There was also pulled pork,

which was ultimately a no-brainer for me,

despite my love of all things Greek and all things cheese...]

Then we gathered ourselves up in my sweet little yard,

with a bottle of wine and jugs of cucumber water.

We shared the things on our lives and minds,

listening to and encouraging each other.

And then as the sunlight dimmed and the bugs came out to play,

we whisked open our Bibles and sought after Truth.

And it was all very very sweet, indeed.

Summer Abundance

A Little Summer Readin'

Happy Birthday, to me

I thought a thought, which changed me

Tonight we perform scenes from Gilbert & Sullivan;
I walk offstage with the Admiral, who says to me:
"How long have you been playing the piano?"

I think for a moment, calculate my newly-turned age.
"30 years" I tell him.

He tells me I'm amazing.

~~
Wasn't it just yesterday that voices of inadequacy
went plaguing through my head?
A-gain?
Assuming what the others think,
and that it's not good,
and that it matters.

But then it was just yesterday when
I thought a thought, which changed me.

I thought: What if I measured my life by this moment?

~~

By rehearsal time this afternoon, I'm tired;
body drained, mind worn, it is Friday, five o'clock!
Gilbert & Sullivan is simply a pain,
my left hand leaping, my right hand flying;
my fingers are weaving, my arms are waving
and I am working, hard.

The room will fill in three hours short.
I wonder: Can I do this well?
I give myself permission: perfection is not what matters most.
I realize: I am really thankful, for the opportunity just to play.

I walk onto that stage at eight o'clock,
it's show time, here we go!

I enjoy each moment,
the music that I alone am making.
In truth, I kick that piano's butt
and gosh, it is just fun.

30 years, and it's about time.

Another Birthday?

Somehow, every year, my birthday rolls around.

Traditionally I am a fierce protector of birthday fun,

and though this year involved the start of Penn State's music camp 

[of which I am a part] I still managed to fit in some celebratin'.

First, my parents drove through town 

on their way from reunion to home. 

To my sweet table in my sweet yard 

they added a giant bag of gifts,

while I served us berry crisp, on my grandmother's plates.

I opened my treats, they filled me in on all I'd missed in the last 24 hours, and then they were on their way.

I proceeded to take a birthday nap.

Upon waking, I met up with my dearest ones, 

for Clem's bbq. [Happy birthday to all of us!]

Over laughter and beer, I shared with them my deep heart feelings

on what the last year brought, and what this new one will bring.

In all of it there was such clear sweet good,

and on me it is not lost.

[Thank you friends, for your loving care.]

Then, I had a rehearsal,

at which I received chocolates,

and the first singing of happy birthday for the day.

[Unless, of course, you count that moment early in the morning when I led off the worship band rehearsal by projecting the birthday song I created for myself through all amplification devices available to me...]

When rehearsal was finished, 

I made my way to more friends,

willing to join me despite the lateness of the hour,

to close out the day

with more smiles,

one more rendition of happy birthday,

and a pot of chocolate pudding.

Then I returned to my sweet cottage,

crawled [with sugar-induced headache] into my bed,

read sweet thoughts left for me in card/text/email/facebook,

and listened to messages kind and loving.

I remembered the years when a birthday meant I'd made it;

I remembered the healing and the goodness of the Lord.

I thought of the many birthdays,

the many many friends,

the many life-giving moments of good.

I noticed the Quiet inside of my spirit, 

and that something within me has changed.

And I fell asleep,

and I slept in peace.

After another beautiful birthday, indeed.

Kooistras, Reune!

Late Thursday night found me reunioning with my parents,

in a cottage, somewhere in Ohio.

The following morning I unrolled myself from my bed made of bunks,

and reunioned with nature, coffee, and the Lord.

Then, I encountered the real reunioning 

I was there for in the first place.

~~~

It began at the Longaberger factory,

a place in which I was fascinated to learn about basket weaving,

even if the baskets themselves are not my thing.

I was just happy to be with my people,

most of whom I have not seen in ages.

We toured around that very large [rather deserted] place,

seeing what there was to see.

And then we took some photo opportunities,

seeing as it is not often one finds oneself with most of one's kin

inside of a very large basket.

[I would, of course, miss the most important picture of all,

the cousins-plus-grandma-in-a-basket money shot,

by poorly timing my search for a restroom...]

Once the pictures were taken,

we wandered around the "outlet" together,

muttering in all of our Dutchness about the exorbitant prices

[for an outlet!].

Finally, we returned to the woods,

and to Marlo

just in time to reunion with this
giant hunk of good old Jersey Taylor's Ham.

There are no words for how happy I was right then.

An Aunt and Uncle bicycled by,

stopping to chat

and to let me take some pictures,

since rarely do we have the chance.

Then, though the day was cloudy,

there was a quality time boat ride around the lake
on another [generous ] Aunt & Uncle's boat.

[I will not tell you about the moment I was nearly pitched right over the back, in clear disregard for general familial harmony
and for the sticker that kept reminding me of my resulting death
if I were to do such a thing...]

Later that evening we cooked up some eats,

and had a giant eat-fest.

That was before we had a beautiful hymn-fest,

[poignant in that it brought us all to think of the man that we were missing and the legacy he gave us]
followed by a giant [and very well-organized] game-fest,

in which we got into groups of four
and shifted from tables right to left,

depending on win or loss, in order to see as much of us as we could.

I was grateful to return to my table of origin [after a terrible round of
Old Maid, of which I will spare you the details]

 for a chance to play with this sweet lady,

who is our matriarch, and the reason we all exist.

The next morning early found her at our cabin,

loading up on Taylor Ham.

[Word gets out when you're living cabin by cabin...]

The sunshine unfolded, and so did this caterpillar,

as we reuned about,

visiting each other.

Then, there was time for one more boat ride,

a sunny one this time,

with these dear cousins

[who are somehow now old enough to drive boats!?]

through very beautiful sights.

We took a leisurely walk back, ready for lunch,

plus one more game,

the very intense Dutch Blitz, at which I am [apparently] a master.

And then, I made my hugs and said my good-byes,

grateful for just a little time,

to reune.

That moment when you realize...

...you've provided marauders and vagrants 

with optimal access to your abode overnight

by leaving the key in the door.

It was Freedom, Ringing