Just different

One of our favorite things to do here in Monterey is to go to the beach in Carmel, armed with a dinner picnic basket, shovels, firewood, chairs and lots of extra clothes. We haul what seems like too much gear down the winding stairs and then scout out the perfect spot for dinner, fire, digging and sunset watching. Most of the time we bring along out of town guests or friends to join us in the fun, and it does not take long before everyone is skirting the edge of the ocean, trying to run away from the waves as they break on the long sandy beach. Children and adults alike laugh and giggle even when they get wet and the extra clothes or towels come in handy as everyone settles in for fire, hot food and chat. Noah who typically wants to be in the 'thick' of any action will almost always set out to dig his way to the center of the earth, hardly having enough time to stop for a bite to eat much less time to gallivant and frolic in the water. By the time we leave, he has usually dug himself a hole deeper than he is tall and at times wide enough to fit a few kids in for a final photo op. The walk down to the perfect spot seemed a bit arduous because of all the gear, and the walk back to the stairs and the car, although only a few 100 feet seems even more challenging; by the time we leave it is pitch black, the sun has set long ago, there are no streets lights in Carmel and everyone is carrying at least another pound or two of sand in their clothes, shoes and hair making the trek seem soo soo long. By the time everyone is in the car, shivering, sandy and dead tired all energy is gone, yet it is always unanimous that it was a wonderful time.
I also enjoy the Carmel beach during our early morning beach walk. I meet up with friends and dogs, ladies and our two boys take off for the beautiful ocean view walk to catch up on news, gossip, and exercise. We frequently stop to catch our breath - not because we are out of shape -but because of the amazing, gorgeous and incredible view.
Two weeks ago, we had an incredible storm come through - no not the kind that the East Coast is experiencing with snow and bone-chilling temperatures - but a storm worthy of its name for this area. The wind whipped around and blew over trees as if they were match stick, the rain pelted windows and if there ever was a crevice to seep through the water found it. Some even lost power, and Highway 1 car speeds topped out at 25 mph, and at times came to a complete halt.
When the sun came out again, the trees were cleared off the roads and cabin fever had gotten the best of us, we headed to our favorite beach - Carmel. Words could not describe the change, locals and visitors alike stood in stunned silence as they surveyed what was left of the beach. Initially all access to the beach

was prohibited, but it did not take long before the die-hards found a way down to see first hand what the storm had done. The long, soft, fine sand beach was gone, the waves even at low tide covered almost all of what was left of the beach, 'our perfect spot' from just a few nights ago was completely under water....

It has now been a few weeks and the new reality is setting. I still have a hard time comprehending what happened, but it is true, the beach has changed. What was is no more, and I am not sure when we can come back down to do fires and eat chili out of plastic cups... Noah will not have to choose between frolicking in the water and digging his hole because it will only take him a minute to reach solid rock as he puts his shovel in the sand. There is no need to bring extra clothes, nothing on the beach will remain dry. Yet, despite all the changes, the beach is still amazingly beautiful, it still takes my breath away as I join my
friends for beach walks, or take the boys for an outing after school is done.

What was may never be again, and I miss that; but the new reality is here and it has cast its on spell on me. As I reflect on this, I sense God's teaching me - a gentle nudging kind of teaching , more than a hit me over the head lesson.

Last year my dear friend MaryJo passed away after a valiant battle with cancer. She was someone I leaned on for much, and never did she let me down. Her faith, her strong convictions and her moral character always guided her response. I miss her, and I miss her a lot. Life with her was beautiful, fun and enjoyable. Life without her has to go on, even though we are many who miss her dearly and long for the day we will once again be together in Heaven. It is hard at times to see how life can go on when we lost someone we love.

The beach provided a loose metaphor for life with and life without MaryJo (and other losses I have experienced) The beach was so much fun and so gorgeous before the storm and I miss that now. Yet, the new beach has a different kind of beauty to it, there are things to discover that I had not noticed before. It is still an amazing beach, a beautiful place to spend some time by. The new beach is what I have and what is here to enjoy, the old one is gone. I can spend all my time reminiscing and longing for the old beach, but no matter how much and how intensely I long for it, it will not come back. I have a choice - stay in the past and miss all the present beauty, or live in the present and enjoy God's creation in this new form. I have a choice as I miss my friend, stay in the past or learn from MaryJo and live in the here and now, for that is all we have.







This is a recent photo of the 'beach' - "our spot" is located almost dead center of the photo...

What a great read!

It was with trepidation that I picked up Mary DeMuth’s Thin Places as I rarely enjoy reading biographies. I find it of no interest to read about narcissistic self promoting individuals, rarely having accomplished much note worthy, and frequently settling what would best be described as highly personal family matters in a very public manner; and not seldom leaving me wondering what is truth and what is simply exaggeration for the sake of publicity and an attempt to achieve victim status. Had the author been anyone but Mary DeMuth I probably would not have given the book a second look, but since I have enjoyed every book Mary has authored I wanted to give this one the benefit of the doubt. I am so glad I did, what a treasure This Place is.

Mary is a fantastic writer, and her way with words and language is amazing. The reader cannot help but feeling pulled in to the pages, smelling, and hearing, seeing and feeling as if the words came alive – it is live theater on a page. Few authors can achieve this feat but Mary mastered it; one of the many reasons her books are such a pleasure to read – it involves all senses.

Mary shares her early life and struggles with the reader in a beautiful, caring, yet sensitive manner. There is no self aggrandizement, no exaggeration for the sake of hype and fame, no name calling to hurt and offend. At times, I think she is even a bit too nice to those who hurt her, allowing her deep faith in the forgiveness and grace of Jesus Christ to shine through.

She details her experiences in a way that helps the reader relate to the pain, suffering and offense; for hers unfortunately is not an unusual story and I suspect many are we the readers who have similar stories buried in the depth of our hearts and minds. She uncovers the truth, exposes the pain for all to see and demonstrates the far reaching impact and consequences in the present of offenses of yesteryear. For those who have walked in her shoes she puts words to feelings, pains, and struggles in a way that validates the reader. For those fortunate enough to have experienced a safer childhood, her descriptions will help put words to the pain so that as one encounters someone with a difficult past one may be able to better comprehend the immensity of the pain and offer a shoulder to cry on, a ear to listen and a mouth to pray for the sufferer.

Mary talks freely about her life, her challenges and her every day struggles as a young girl, teenager, college student, wife, mother and friend. Her writing is so vivid, her description so telling and her honesty so real; at times it felt as if she had written about me, and my challenges – I finally realized I was not alone in thinking these thoughts, acting in these ways or feeling like I feel. Her words were like a soothing balm on open wounds in my heart and soul. Mary offers hope to the hopeless, and points her readers to the one and only one who can heal the wounds of men - our Lord and Savior.

There is only one problem with this book – it is so good it is impossible to put down; causing me to stay up way too late at night!

A New Normal

It began with a kind email from my father in law, Tom: Would we like a Christmas wreath for our front door? As I read his generous offer, I was struck by the new normal that our lives are beginning to take on.

Life is changing once again and what we have become use to is now a thing of the past, and what we have in front of us is our new normal.

New - Attending the same church every Sunday, getting to know people, beginning to recognize faces and starting to feel at home.

New - Routine, a white board with chores and tasks, a schedule and things that has to be done.

New – A place for each thing, and the place is not a suit case or a brown paper box, it is a shelf, a closet or a table.

New – Regular play dates with the same kids every time, familiar faces and good friends, not having to make a new acquaintance each time we stop in a park.

New – cleaning, bed making, grocery shopping, meal planning, take out the trash, no longer are these things taken care of by others in hotels, motels and restaurants.

New- Hospitality, we now have a place to call home to where we can invite people to come and join us for a meal and fellowship, and although we do not have real plates just yet, we are learning that china and crystal is not necessary for a fun time.

New – Time apart, and how precious and wonderful the reunion is at the end of the day when Daddy comes through the door after a long day at school.

New - A place to call home, a place to decorate for the seasons, a place to hang a live Christmas wreath!

We have done so much in the last 11 months, and learned so much, and although we are a bit sad to give up the freedom, the fun and the adventure, we are excited about this new normal here in Monterey, California.

How Do I Know?

How do I know that the large, beautiful, shiny diamond on the pretty girl’s finger is real, and that she therefore is rich? Maybe it is a synthetic bought in the QVC clearance store, and the girl saved for a long time to buy it.

How do I know that the little boy who is sucking on a sucker on a Tuesday morning is ‘always’ eating candy and that he has a bad mother who ‘lets him eat candy all the time?” Maybe he has not had a sweet treat in weeks, maybe he never or rarely gets treat – a truth just as possible as ‘he always’ gets sweets.

How do I know the little girl in the Walmart cart with a pacifier in her mouth is too old for that? Maybe she is not as old as she appears, maybe she just got hurt and needed to be soothed, maybe she……

How do I know the heavy set woman in front of me at Safeway with a cart full of ‘junk food’ is buying it for herself? Maybe, she is having a party, bringing snacks to a party, office get together.

How do I know that the ‘perfect’ looking house, with the pretty fence is lovely, warm and inviting on the inside, and something that I covet? Maybe, it is a beautiful façade, like the gorgeous Trompe D’oils we saw covering up the dusty renovation work of castles in Europe?

How do I know that my fellow airline passenger, dressed like she walked off the pages of Vogue is so confident in herself? Maybe she is covering up her insecurities, her loneliness, and empty life?

How do I know that the couple that sits behind us at the restaurant is truly happily married? Maybe this is the first civil conversation they have had with each other in months.

How do I know that she sales clerk is mad at me, when she snaps at my request? Maybe she had a sleepless night, maybe the bills are stacking up and no way to pay them, maybe it had nothing to do with my request

How do I know that someone intended to hurt me with actions or words? Maybe there is a true intent veiled behind how I received the interaction, maybe even bathed in good intentions?

How do I know that the child acting out in the store is due to poor parenting? Maybe the child is facing the imminent death of a parent and the shopping trip on the way to the hospital is to find the ‘right card’ for Mommy so she will bet better.

How do I know that that the decision that someone made was wrong and foolish? Maybe there are more facts than I have been aware of, maybe there is information that is not shared, maybe from the other point of view it appears to be a great choice.

How do I know… the list goes on and on. My brain makes judgments constantly and the outcome affects how I see and interaction with people around me. Maybe I am wrong in my judgment, maybe I am too quick to judge, maybe it is time to give people a chance to show me who they are without coloring their presentation with my snap judgments.

Thank you Lord for your gentle teachings, for helping me be more compassionate and less critical Lord give me the courage to not judge, the patience to uncover all the facts, and the grace to love everyone I encounter .

Shock and Awe

Shock – honestly, $30 for a 6 mile cab ride?
Shock - cannot flag down a cab in a flash
Awe – the cab driver has change!

Shock – how hot water can be really truly too hot
Awe – soft, soft, soft towels

Shock – the large cars with only one person in each
Awe – how polite drivers are

Shock – the plethora of choices, how do I make a choice
Awe – even in a regular Target, the plethora of food options

Shock – bullet proof vests guarding the hospital entrance
Awe – modern, western medicine

Shock – cold weather
Awe - cool room to sleep in

Shock – the bareness of nature
Awe – the tiny whispers of green on each and every tree branch

Shock – understand everything that everyone says
Awe – Spanish praise music on the radio and it making me joyful

It truly has been a reverse culture shock to come back to the US. We have been back a week now and I am still amazed, shocked, awed, daily as I go about our life here in Minneapolis. I am amazed by how easy it is to get things done, yet, I miss the warmth of the people in La Ceiba, the smiles, the small talks, and the slower pace. Like in so many other areas of my life, I am living in tension: Honduras versus the US. God is working on me, showing me the gray areas of life, that tension is good, it is molding me; I am learning to enjoy the journey.

Taking back my mind

I have a critical spirit, one of the things that God laid on my heart to work on this year. It is so easy for me to see what is wrong, what needs to be fixed, how to solve a situation, or come up with a way out of a jam.... yet in the process I forget to enjoy all that is right. The beauty, the care, the passion, the compassion, the love and consideration that is behind most acts, thoughts, words and deeds.
I have been especially convicted about my critical spirit as it comes to fellow Christians. "I cannot believe they let their kids do....., " "I cannot believe they do not let their kids ........," "How can she call herself a Christian and do....." "Why would someone who is a Christian not do...." The thoughts and criticism can run like an endless tape in my head, a veritable proving ground for discontent, dissension and distraction. Christians are known for criticizing our fellow believers, dividing rather than unifying - and I am sure I have done my fair share to contribute to this stereo type. Please note, I am not talking about blatant errors or sin, the Bible is pretty clear on how these situations are to be handled.
Beth Moore, wrote so wisely in Praying God's Word Day by Day about and it hit home:
"Concentrating on the shortcomings of other Christians can cheat a Christian of truly enjoying the presence of God." p 44.
My mind can only handle one thing at the time, and why should I give up time and presence with God for the worries about someone else? For a situation that I have no say in, no impact on, no stake in? Rather, I ought to keep my focus on God, praying for my fellow believers.
When I focus on others, I have to take the focus of God and that is EXACTLY where the enemy would like me, my focus can be any other place. So when I criticize, analyze, judge another Christian - the enemy calls it a victory, MISSION COMPLETE! He knows the incredible power that comes with a focus on God - with God nothing is impossible.
This has been ruminating in my mind for a while. The power that my thoughts have, and how much control I have over these random, and at times dangerous thoughts. I have renewed resolve to keep my focus on God. Spending my time with God rather than on my critical thoughts, has been so sweet, so enjoyable. I am seeing a difference. No, I am still able to quickly judge, criticize or seize up a situation, but I am now aware of the danger, and try to bring my focus back on God. I do not need to be assisting the enemy in his attack, my mind is no longer in his army.

Moms just like me

As I spend time with the women here in Honduras it is becoming so clear to me how little really truly differentiates us. Moms are Moms no matter where we live. My concerns for Lukas and Noah about their lives, their education, their health and their future is so similar to the ones of any Mom I meet here. Moms wants what is best for her children, and is willing to endure a lot to provide that, even if it means learning to read as an adult. Moms worry about how to feed their children. Mom spends time hugging and holding children.

I think about our living conditions, what we eat, and how to clothes the boys. I am constantly ruminating about their education, their future and how to prepare them for life. When they are sick, I want to give my left arm to heal them RIGHT NOW!
These Moms have the exact same thoughts. The only difference is:
When I think of where we live - I worry about our house, I am thinking of how clean it is, the amount of work it takes to keep it nice, how to make it feel like home for the boys and ways to ensure they have space to do 'their things.' I do not worry about keeping a roof over our heads, the bugs are not flying straight through openings and we have locked gates to keep friends in and foes out.
I think about what food we are eating, is is nutritious, is it varied, is it tasty? How can I come up with new ways to cook, new meals, exciting combinations to spice up our meals? My fellow Moms here are worried about getting food for their family.
I wash, sort and fold the clothes, making sure there are nice, clean and comfortable clothes to wear every day. If I do not wash today, we still have plenty of option for things to wear tomorrow, and our main problem is often: which shirt to wear. I concern myself with if the shirt match the pants, and if the shoes are appropriate for the outfit. My fellow Moms worry about having an outfit to put on their children - and shoes are often not even in the equation.
Bob and I are jointly schooling, providing a great support for me, and a fun shake up in the routine for the boys. We carefully packed educational materials for our time here in Honduras and when we are running short, the care package is only a few scant days away with more good books and learning tools. And, we have continual Internet access, so there is never a shortage of ways to educate. Yet, their education is often at the forefront of my mind, are we covering the 'right' things, are they learning 'what they need,' what are they missing, are they keeping pace with others their age. My fellow Moms worry about school period. Can they somehow find the money to buy school supplies, and uniforms. Can they afford not having the child helping out at home, or even worse helping to beg on the street in order to feed the family today?

I think about their future, what will the world look like when they grow up, how can I best prepare them for life in the world, what do they need to be ready? My fellow Moms are also thinking and worrying about the future, their horizon is simply a bit shorter - what will happen this week, this month. Can I provide for my child today.
When Lukas or Noah is sick, I bend down under the sink in our bathroom and pull out appropriate medicine to cure most of what ails them. If I do not have the right medicine, I can walk a few blocks to a local pharmacy and get it, and our personal health advisor Erin is only a phone call away. We even have Medi-evac insurance if something goes really wrong. My fellow Moms are just as worried about their little ones, they suffer through the fevers, the coughs, the wheezing lungs, the infected bites, the parasites. Despite limited education and information, Moms just know what is wrong with their babies, and these Moms are no exception. But, they most certainly do not have medicine under the bathroom sink - many do not even have a bathroom sink, the toilet is an outhouse and the washing takes place in the laundry, washing dishes, cleaning sink located outside. They may not be able to access medical care and pharmacies are bus rides away. Any Mom who has held a sick child waiting for the doctor's office to open, or for the medicine to arrive knows the horrid feeling in the gut...
There is so little differentiating me from these Moms, only God's amazing grace placed me where I am, in the family I grew up in, with the husband He prepared for me, and with the lovely family I have been blessed to care for.