In the Garden. . .

"I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses, and the voice I hear falling on my ear, the Son of God discloses."

"And He walks with me and He talks with me, and He tells me I am His own; and the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known."

Favorite kind of day. . .

My favorite kind of day. . .working in the yard, smelling the campfire smoke. There's something soothing about an outdoor fire. When I need a rest from the yard work, it's an inviting spot to retreat to for a little while and gaze at the flames and coals. It's as mesmerizing as a kaleidoscope; always changing, never the same.

Michael came and helped out with some chores and John weed-whacked the grass on the bank around the root cellar. Michael is spending the night. He and I ate dinner outside at the umbrella table. The dinner conversation was fascinating, although now I can't recall what it was about. I grilled on the new hibachi and I think I'm going to like it. I was always a little afraid of the gas grill.

Tomorrow, I hope I can finish arranging and decorating the porch in readiness for summer living. We'll see what tomorrow brings.

Emotional healing. . .

I love synchronicity. Some call it coincidence or fate. I like to call these occurrences God times. So often in the midst of obstacles, they happen and, depending on the circumstances, I might smile knowingly or I may be jolted to pay closer attention to my priorities. Either way, I know I have received (what I call) "the nudge."

At our church service on Sunday, an invitation was extended for healing prayer requests. Since I had been feeling somewhat drained of spirit and emotionally fragile, I asked for prayers for emotional healing. Today I smiled when I read the title for one of this day's devotions, "How to Recharge Emotionally," by Rick Warren. He mentions three habits to help us recharge, emotionally. 1. Solitude. (Our emotions are like a battery. If you plug one light bulb into a battery, it will last for a fairly long time. If you plug in 100 lights, the battery will drain very quickly.) 2. Play. (We each have different activities that recharge us because we're all made differently.) 3. Laughter. (Laughter is good for our health. Humor is God's gift to us.)

Today I'm especially grateful for little unexpected pieces of synchronicity.

An open mind. . .

I am feeling a little melancholy today and am not sure why. Maybe it's the process of coming "down" from the emotional highs of the past few exceptional days. Maybe I'm just tired. Or perhaps I'm just having a bad-hair day.

I know I'm contending with a three-way inner conflict. A battle of wills, I call it. There are the "wants," the "shoulds" and the "need-to's." I WANT to put on old clothes, go outside, dig in the dirt and plant things! I SHOULD be sifting through the mountain of mail and paperwork that never ranks as high as it should on my priority list. Instead of either of those, I NEED to fulfill an obligatory commitment this afternoon. In fact, I should be on my way there right now. So. . .off I go, grateful for God's gift of an open mind that will accept His will and not my own.

I feel better already.

A day to treasure. . .

It has been a good couple of days.

Yesterday, for the first time in almost three years, I found myself opening my violin case and playing a little bit. Something I haven't been able to do since Bob's illness. I'm not sure what to expect from here but we'll see.

Today has been what I like to refer to as a "Hallmark" day. Michael and I spent wholesome time together and even he remarked several times that he was having a really good day. After some leisure time this morning, we went to his house so he could do his chores. I enjoyed watching him go about the business of caring for the dogs, collecting eggs and feeding the chickens and ducks. I was wishing I had my camera when I saw him from the distance across the pond, the ducks swimming to meet him, the dog bounding this way and that and with the woods as a backdrop. For a moment it felt as though I had stepped from reality into a painting that once hung on our wall.

Then, at my house, we worked on all sorts of tasks. We dug up shoots from a variety of ornamental bushes and planted them as a hedgerow at the end of the orchard. In the process, Michael learned how to cut and remove sod in sections and before we were finished, he had mastered the procedure. We pruned the nearby spruce tree and inspected it for disease. We made a mental note of where we saw strawberry blossoms and where blackberry bushes were beginning to bud, in hopes of getting to them before the birds do. Over lunch, we made plans to create a walking trail around the property; something I've had in mind for awhile. But...no fun, alone.

Before long, it was time for Little League so off we went. Michael had a good game. He got on base several times and made it to home plate a couple of times too. When the game was over, it was time to pick up Rachael at her friend's house. Michael wished aloud that we could just leave her there and when she was invited to spend another night, he was delighted to point out that his wish had come true. Ah, yes...siblings!

I do treasure days like this and never, ever take them for granted.

Look for the gifts. . .

Several hours ago I put a homemade frozen dinner in the microwave for lunch before mowing the lawn. While it heated, I made the mistake of taking something to the garage to put away. I ended up cleaning the garage; a job that needed doing but not necessarily today. I try to look for God's purpose in all things, particularly the unexpected. Sometimes it is very clear and others, not so obvious. Today I realized that it is getting more comfortable for me to be in Bob's "spaces" for longer periods of time. (It's true what 'they' say; that grief does not go away but we gradually learn how to experience once again the full realm of other feelings simultaneously. Or, as I like to say, "along side of it.")

As I sorted, rearranged, swept and vacuumed, I was flooded with warm memories. The story of our lives unfolded in front of me as I noticed grandparents' tools and other items that had once belonged to grandparents and parents. The most vivid recollections, though, were triggered by the paint drippings and, in some cases, old spills. The paint trail is a tell-tale sign of the many projects that were 'born' in that garage over the years. The John Deere green and yellow are the more recent 'drippings.' Some splotches that go back 20+ years are the silver & blue from a Jr. Prom project that was assembled there. (Although...I don't believe those colors got there by accident.)

That has been my unexpected gift for today. The Gift of the Garage, I shall call it. Just think, we can just as easily miss those gifts. One way we miss them, of course, is by proclaiming ourselves "too busy." Another way would be to require such perfection that those symbolic 'biographies' are quickly erased because we look upon them as blemishes. I, for one, am so very thankful to have learned to recognize their poignant value as they were happening.

The gifts are there. We just have to look for them.

A good day. . .

There is nothing quite like the peace one feels having spent several hours outside in the company of lilacs phasing out, lily of the valley phasing in and an old dog. Such is life.

I worked on some more edging and was happy to see that after a little churning of the old mulch, I won't need to replace nearly as much as I thought. Very tenderly, I pruned dead branches out of the old fashioned rose bush that came from the farm. Bob's mother called it "seven sisters." I rescued a few lambs ear plants that had spread out into the grass. The loose sod that comes from edging works good for filling in bare spots here and there. The yard is vast and there's a lot to do but it is one of the pastimes I enjoy the most.

I would say this has been a good day. There is always, always something to be thankful for.