The View from Here

Last day...

It’s just a square on the calendar, but it feels like so much more, especially this year. There are no words eloquent enough to adequately describe the roller coaster of emotions experienced by the world this past year, no words to explain our dual sense of anxiety and hope as we face the new one. My prayer is that none of the things we dread will be as bad as we fear and that all of the things we hope for will be better than we can imagine.

No matter what 2017 holds for any of us, we must have faith that God is in control:  

Romans 8:28- And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.

Happy New Year!

Thoughts on Playborhoods...

I watched a news report yesterday about Mike Lanza’s “Playborhood”, a playground designed to encourage “free play” and limited “risk taking” for his children and any others in his neighborhood. While I agree with some of the concepts and understand his intentions…I have some concerns about his implementation.

1. His playground is highly structured and obviously designed by an affluent adult. If his children are making play structures and creating their own activities it was not apparent in the report. My brothers and our playmates built tree houses from scrap lumber, dug ponds and trenches for our toy boats, and stacked rocks to make castles. We made our own swings from ropes and tires. We camped in tents made from old sheets.
2. His playground encourages children to take risks rather than accept risk as a natural component of play. My friends and I knew that snakes would bite and hammers would smash fingers and tree limbs might break. We knew we wouldn’t always be able to jump “from here to there” or climb as far as we wished. We often tried anyway, and pushed the limits and tried things that we knew in our hearts weren’t possible except in the movies. That resulted in a few scrapes and scratches, and even a broken bone or two. But we also knew that our parents had rules and expected us to follow them. There were places we weren’t allowed to go and things we weren’t allowed to do…and for good reason. When we lived on the ranch we roamed all over and played in the fields and climbed trees and floated boats on the little irrigation ditch that flowed through the back of the yard. However, we did not play in the wine cellar, or climb the water tower, or swim in the canal, or walk down the road to the store without permission. And the one time that my brother climbed the roof of the barn he was punished. There were some things that were just too stupid to even think about doing, and “stupid” was the worst name I could even think about being called.
3. His playground is “open to the public” and not only makes him vulnerable to lawsuits, but encourages parents to abdicate their responsibilities. “Dropping off” our children at any playground, private or public, is not responsible parenting. It only takes a moment for something to go wrong. Children don’t always gets along, accidents happen, things break. When I was quite young and playing with a group of neighborhood children they got the bright idea to drop me into a dry canal and see if I could climb out. I couldn’t. And they either got distracted or purposely left me, but it wasn’t long before my mom came to rescue me. No matter what she was doing, she always had some idea about what we were doing and how long we had been gone. If we didn’t respond to a call (my dad preferred to whistle), then someone came looking for us.

One thing I noticed during my years of teaching kindergarten and again watching yesterday’s news report is that children today don’t seem to play the types of games that we did- games that taught us cooperation, strategy, and a variety of physical skills. We spent hours playing marbles, jacks, pick-up-sticks, and cat’s cradle. We played hide’n’seek, hopscotch, red light/green light, red rover, Mother May I?, Simon Says, freeze tag, and crack the whip. And we jumped rope every way there was to do it. Many girls took their own jump ropes to school and used them at recess. Boys carried bags of marbles in their pockets. I always had my hopscotch “marker” in my pocket. It was a short piece of an old necklace chain that I thought was “lucky”.

It amuses me that we spend so much time analyzing why and how children should play. Often the best thing to do is just provide them with a relatively safe space, a few supplies, and a little time. They’ll figure out what to do and how to do it! If you understand your child you will know if they need for you to sit in the yard and read while they play, or simply be “available” in the house. You’ll know whether they need a hammer and nails, or a set of watercolors. You’ll know if they want to spend ten minutes or an hour at play. And if you are as wise as my mom was, you’ll know if your child just wants to sit in a tree and dream for an hour.

Demanding, disrupting, disturbing...depressing

Whew! Did you make it through the stresses and strains of Christmas? Did you “pass” the biggest test of the year? That’s what it often feels like when the last guest leaves, the decorations are packed away, and the empty boxes and pretty papers are stuffed into the trash can. Christmas is the most demanding, disrupting, disturbing, and sometimes depressing holiday of the year, so surviving it usually feels like completing a marathon- a combination of elation and exhaustion.

The first Christmas demanded the attention of the world. It demanded faith in an event that broke the rules and rituals of the time. It demanded a shift in attitude from hate and control to love and service. Now our celebration of Christ’s birth demands planning, time, work, and money. We have so many traditions and allow our children to expect such elaborate gifts that we set ourselves up for anxiety and disappointment. No other holiday on our calendar demands decorating, gifts, food, hospitality, charity, and travel.  At Christmas time we want to see it all, do it all, and have it all.

Christ’s arrival disrupted the status quo and everyone from Joseph and Mary to King Herod found themselves doing something they hadn’t planned to do. Our Christmas customs disrupt our lives by requiring shopping, decorating, cooking, and socializing when we are already multi-tasking just to make a living and care for our families. The added physical and financial burdens often seem overwhelming and people set unreasonable goals for themselves and others. Just as Christ’s birth was foretold, we know Christmas will arrive, but we always seem a bit surprised when it does.

 The Bible says that news of the birth of Christ disturbed King Herod “and all Jerusalem with him”. The celebration of Christ’s birth still disturbs those who do not believe and don’t want to be reminded that all the presents in the world won’t fill the void in their life. The season of love and giving disturbs those who realize they are not treating others with love and they are not living lives of service. And sometimes it disturbs Christians to be reminded that we can easily fall prey to the dazzle of glitter and gifts, and forget the miracle of the manger.

Christ’s birth must have been depressing to those who ruled the world at the time. Anger and intimidation, status and wealth were the tools of power. Then along came Jesus with his message of love and forgiveness and service…and people listened to him even when he was a young boy. So too, is Christmas depressing to people who think their lives are “just fine”, until holiday expectations shine a light on flawed attitudes and troubled relationships. The celebration of Christ’s birth forces us to give thought to the priorities of our lives and examine who and what is really important.

My prayer today is that our examination of what is really important has left us with the faith to carry on despite flawed attitudes and troubled relationships because once again we have been given the only gift that truly matters…the gift of God’s love.

Christmas in Oklahoma, 1979

In 1979 we moved from Lone Pine, California to Grove, Oklahoma and Gary worked for the local hospital. We had some major problems during the move, but by Christmas we felt like we were settled. We attended a good church, had some wonderful neighbors, and were a reasonable driving distance from family and friends in Caddo. We actually celebrated Christmas twice and ended up with two more animals. (And no, I don’t remember why there is a can of paint on our kitchen counter. Lol)

Saturday, December 22, 1979

visiting in Caddo, OK (living in Grove)

Took the kids for a ride in the country, then helped Mom with lunch. Dave came about 12:30. It’s so good to see everyone. We all ate and exchanged gifts. Jeff has the chicken pox. Saw Dan’s new house. David took me for a ride on John’s new motorcycle. Scared the breath out of me!

Sunday, December 23, 1979

Went to church. There was a music presentation instead of a sermon. It was great! Caddo is lucky to have so many fine voices. Bud had a sore throat. I felt sorry for him. Stanley Jordan did the narration.

Had lunch and then left at 2:30. Rain all the way. Got home safely at 8:00. Freckles is adjusting very well to our home. M’n’M (cat) isn’t adjusting too well to Freckles though! Ha! Robert made him a bed next to his.

December 24, 1979

Went to the doctor. Have to wait for the test results. Gary got his check so we did our grocery shopping. Took the kids to lunch at Colonel Sanders.

Picked up Rebel. He is huge! He also has bad manners. Jumps a lot. Hope we can settle him down.

Got the kids to bed and set up Robert’s train. Watched TV until midnight. Freckles slept with Robert.

Christmas Day, 1979

Another Christmas over already. The kids were all pleased with their gifts. Robert loves his train! Gary worked part of the day.

Took Rebel for a walk. He is a hand full. Freckles is so cute!

Took a two hour nap. I am so tired.

Had steak for dinner. Dad gave us enough for two meals. Guess we’ll have it tomorrow too.

Peace and Joy

This morning I turned to Matthew and read the story of the birth of Jesus. As always, it reminded me of the reason why we set aside this special time to celebrate with family and friends. However, with all of the pain and sorrow many people are facing this year, I longed for something a bit more specific to use as a holiday greeting.  I finally decided that these words from the Old Testament are perfect for the coming weekend:

Nehemiah 8:10 (NKJV)

¹⁰ Then he said to them, “Go your way, eat the fat, drink the sweet, and send portions to those for whom nothing is prepared; for this day is holy to our Lord. Do not sorrow, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.”

I pray that you set aside your sorrows and experience peace and joy as you celebrate the birth of our Lord. And may He grant all of us strength to face the challenges of the coming year.

Merry Christmas!

Smarter, Stronger, Kinder

I’ve decided that my resolutions for the new year will be quite simple, but at the same time quite challenging. I want, hope, pray, plan and resolve to be smarter, stronger, and kinder.

In order to be smarter I must be willing to learn new things while perfecting current skills. I must devote time to observing, listening, reading, and studying. I might even take a class!

To be stronger means to be healthier, so I must continue to improve my eating habits and exercise my body. I must also read my Bible and seek ways to be stronger mentally and emotionally.

If I’m going to be kinder I must work on my attitude and actions. I need to read my Bible, start each day with prayer, and seek God’s direction. I need to look for more ways to help others each day, not just during the holidays.

I haven’t always been enthusiastic about setting goals for the year. However, it seems that 2017 is going to begin with such major challenges that I need some motivation to make it the best year it can be. I’ll need to be smarter, stronger, and kinder…

Winter

This was the view out my window today. Hardly seems like the first day of winter...but I'm grateful. 

Healing...

I cut my finger last week. A stubborn piece of onion refused to yield to the knife and I found myself staring in disbelief at a tiny, but profusely bleeding nick in the side of my left index finger. I grabbed a paper towel and put pressure on the wound for a few minutes, then a few minutes more, and a few minutes more. It finally occurred to me that it might be a bit deeper than I first surmised, but after a few more minutes and the application of a tight bandage, I was able to finish my quiche and put it in the oven.

The little cut continued to plague me and I ended up changing the bandage three times that first day. And of course it was painful and constantly “in the way”…being on my index finger. It improved a little each day, but on the third day when I thought I could go about my business without the band-aid I caught the edge of the healing cut on a piece of paper and made it bleed again. I endured two more days of bandaging it before I was brave enough to try again.

Now I sit here typing with a dull red “C” on the side of my finger that marks the site of the injury. It is still tender enough to remind me to be careful as I cook this weekend’s dinner, but I’m hopeful it will soon heal completely and I doubt that it will leave a permanent scar. Of course if it does it won’t be the first. My left hand already carries the mark of an errant claw hammer and a line left by a machete.

As I was looking at my finger yesterday I thought about how blessed we are that God gave us bodies capable of healing themselves. My next thought was “too bad our relationships don’t heal as well as our skin”. That idea floated around in my brain for most of the afternoon and actually distracted me a couple of times when I was attempting to think about my plans for today. That’s when I usually feel the need to write things down…when I feel that God is nagging me to understand something.

What I understand this morning is that my injured finger is the perfect analogy for an injured relationship. The separation of two hearts is immediately startling and painful. Our attempts to protect our feelings and cover up the damages may or may not be successful at first. Patience and determination are often required, and if we try to rush the process the result may be more pain. However, with love and care and time the relationship can be repaired. Oh, there may be a scar or two, but those are sometimes needed to remind us to be careful.

I want...I wish...I hope...

Christmas is still a week away and already I’m thinking ahead to the New Year and what I might do differently in 2017. It’s a habit formed long ago and intrinsically tied to my feelings about Christmas. After all, the Christmas story is the ultimate tale of change and improvement. Jesus changed everything there ever was or would be.  I find it only natural to pray each year that the celebration of his birth somehow changes me; for no matter how long I live, there will always be room for improvement of this humble temple.

I was a practical child so it was perfectly logical to go from my “I want” Santa list to my “I wish-I hope” resolution list. If I got paper and crayons for Christmas I could draw and become a better artist. If I received a book I could read it and get smarter. If someone gave me pretty clothes I could look better and be more accepted by my peers. If I got something I “needed” it saved me from having to ask my parents for it and perhaps hearing that they couldn’t afford it. I really can’t recall ever being unhappy with a gift. Anything I got was more than I already had. However, some gifts resulted in new responsibilities or expectations and I wasn’t always ready for them.

My feelings about gifts haven’t changed much.  I still enjoy giving and receiving them, but each one represents a change in my life, some as simple as making a place for a new piece of art, others as complicated as making changes in my daily routine. Change can be embraced or resisted, but it can’t be ignored. So yes…I’m going to celebrate the birth of Jesus, but I’m also wondering what lies ahead for me.

Lone Pine, 1978

I didn’t write a lot in my diary during the December we lived in Lone Pine, CA. I don’t recall being ill, so I was probably just busy with the children and church and various projects.

For those of you not familiar with California, Lone Pine is located in the Owens Valley on the Eastern side of the state, in the “high desert” (3,727 ft.) north of Death Valley.  It’s a small but very busy town that sees thousands of tourists. Each October they celebrate the many movies and commercials filmed in the area by hosting the Lone Pine Film Festival.

While we were there Gary worked for the local hospital and we attended a small, active church. We also spent a lot of time outdoors, hiking, fishing, and exploring. My grandmother lived in Fresno and she and my aunt made the long drive over to visit us.

(I think this was actually a summer photo, but I love it.) 

Sunday, December 24, 1978

Gran went to class with us and Betty drove around. Betty came back for church. We had a light lunch and then went driving. Betty is painting again so she took lots of pictures. We also collected dried flowers and grasses.

Had our Christmas dinner tonight- ham, roast, yams, salad, rolls, peas, apple pie. I’m stuffed! Everyone went to bed early except us. We stayed up ‘til 11:30. Jean came by and brought gifts for the kids.

Christmas Day, 1978

The girls woke up at 5:30. I made them stay in bed until 6:30. Then I made coffee and let them open a couple of presents. Robert got up at 7:00. Betty came over at 7:45. This has been one our best Christmases ever. I can’t help thinking how different this Christmas has been from past ones. We didn’t have to borrow money for presents. Everything was less hectic. We really have so much to be thankful for this year.

Betty and Gran left at noon. I called Mom and we talked for a while. Went to bed at 9:30, exhausted.