Category Archives: Friends and Family

Rejoice…

with your family…

in the beautiful land of life…(Albert Einstein)

Amen.

It has been a wonderful weekend for me and my family.

It was a time to celebrate God’s incredible faithfulness, lavish grace, and breathtaking love.

Thanksgiving morning dawned bright and sunny…and snowy!

We spent the day with family…

“In family life, love is the oil that eases the friction, the cement that binds closer together, and the music that brings harmony.”–Eva Burrows.

There is no such thing as a perfect family, but I sure do love mine.  We are genuinely happy to see each other. We share each other’s joys and burdens. We support each other. We respect our differences. And we laugh. A lot.

The rest of the weekend, we visited with friends, decorated for Christmas, and got into the holiday spirit by attending a holiday concert with the state’s incredibly talented Philharmonic.

At one point, I was talking to a friend. She and I have both come through storms in our lives and are  now enjoying some very welcome sunny skies.

I told her that I intend to soak up every single ounce of joy from this sweet season.

“But how do you do that?” She asked.

Be fully present in the moment.

Recognize that everything is grace.

Make thanksgiving a way of life.

Celebrate a very good God with every fiber of your being.

Rejoice always.

Pray continually.

Make everyday a treasure hunt of His beauty and blessings.

Actively seek to be a blessing to others.

No waiting for the other shoe to drop…today is all you have and if life is good right now, surrender to the happiness and enjoy. 

“Thanks is what multiplies the joy and makes any life large.” —Ann Voskamp 

We have been without heat for the last three days.

The culprit is a  broken exhaust fan. It happened to quit working on the day following the historic October nor’easter that hit New England.

This is what the aftermath of that storm looked like in our neck of the woods:

As you can imagine, it was a tad chilly.

To complicate matters further, there were enormous power outages, which included the company in Massachusetts that carried the replacement exhaust fan.

We were originally told that all would be fixed by Monday.

So, we bundled up in several layers of clothes, fired up the space heaters, and slept beneath a million blankets.

By Monday afternoon, we received news that now it would be fixed on Tuesday.

I immediately placed a call to my brother, who works for the company that runs the inns in our charming New England town and he was able to get us a room at one of them for the night.

As I packed, I realized how far I have come. If this had happened several years ago,  I’m sorry to say that I would have been decidedly unhappy at being inconvenienced and would have loudly vocalized my displeasure to anyone willing to listen. I would have only focused on the negative..

Not so today.

The storm that my family and I lived through over the past couple of years has radically realigned my perspective and my priorities. I no longer take anything in my life for granted.

I have learned to count, one by glorious one, one thousand gifts from the hand of my Heavenly Father.

Whatever the situation, I now ask, “What blessings can I find here?”

I always find them—even though some circumstances require a bit more digging— because I serve a very good God who can be found in the midst. He always speaks.

The blessings I found in this situation were many:

*We were given the gift of more time to be with Doug, as he usually goes to Vermont on Sunday afternoons for another work week
*It reminded me to give thanks for the little things that are easy to take for granted, such as electricity, running water, a washing machine, a dryer, and heat
*…laughter with my family, as we all sought to find the joy in the midst
*Doug having the chance to drive the kids to school and listen to all the stories of high school life and plans for the day ahead
*…spending Halloween night in a local Mexican restaurant enjoying seeing kids dressed up in costumes…and listening to the little boy behind us inexplicably say, “Hi fork!” over and over again 🙂
*…being given the chance to stay practically for free in a luxury hotel for the night,  wrapped in the warmth from the fireplace
*…waking up to this view:

This afternoon at 4:00, the fan was fixed and blessed heat poured back into the house. Happiness reigned. 🙂

Celebrate the little things today.

When my friend Heather met our son Josh when he was nine months old, she took one look at his long fingers and said, “That boy is born to play the piano!”

Those words turned out to be prophetic.

The piano was the first instrument Josh learned to play. That was his introduction to the world of music…a world that he would come to deeply love.

Looking back, it is wonderful to see the people God used to teach and encourage him along his journey and how He guided his steps along the way.

Doug, who plays the guitar and the piano, was Josh’s first teacher. He taught him how to read music, introduced him to the piano, and bought him his first guitar.

However, it wasn’t until we moved back to New England that Josh’s love for music really took flight.

Two wonderful women decided to teach music classes one fall at the homeschooling co-op we attended. Debi taught Music Theory and Carol taught Introduction to Music. I will be forever grateful for them. They ignited a passion for  music in my son’s heart and mind that is still burning to this day.

During the holiday season of 2009, our family went to my hometown of Pittsburgh. It was then that Josh announced his desire to learn another instrument.  In my mom’s family room, Josh spent hours researching various instruments in between various get-togethers with family and friends. He listened to them being played on YouTube, read about them on Wikipedia, and finally made his decision. He would play the clarinet.

That was fortuitous because we happened to have a clarinet at home. The very day we returned to our home, he put that clarinet together and began to teach himself how to play. He played everyday until June when he was able to enroll in the local music school for lessons.

It was there that he met Mary, the teacher who would encourage him, challenge him, and believe in him. She invited him to join a band called New Horizons that helped bring his playing up to a new level.

In the fall, he enrolled in the high school so he could be part of the band. The band director, Steve, proved to be an excellent mentor, as well as a lot of fun.

He also took a guitar class with Steve and was soon in the market for  an electric bass guitar, which he got for Christmas last year…

One afternoon, Josh spotted a local pawn shop and asked his dad if they could go inside to see if there were any instruments for sale.

There, on the shelf was an oboe. It was a steal for $60 and Josh was happy to spend some of the  money he had saved to own it.

Little did he know that that ordinary day would turn out to be a turning point in his young life.

He only played the oboe sporadically at first, preferring to concentrate on playing in two bands with his clarient. Eventually, he decided to sell the oboe, hoping to make a profit.

(Side note: Josh loves money. He was only a little fella when the first season of “The Apprentice” premiered. He watched the entire episode with his dad and me and as the credits rolled, he turned to us, eyes wide and said, “I love Donald  Trump!”  🙂 

So, he was looking to make a tidy profit by selling the oboe. He got a couple of nibbles but there was no sale, which frustrated him because he was saving to buy a big ticket item and could have used the money.

I kept telling him, “Jesus knows what He is doing. There is a reason why no one is buying your oboe.”

Once Josh realized that oboe wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, he decided to try playing it again.

This time, it was an entirely different experience.

He loved it and a new passion was born.

Had his oboe sold, that money would have been long gone by now…and he would have missed out on a world of joy.

It wasn’t long before he had switched to playing the oboe in both bands. The oboe has become an extension of him and I love hearing his music filling the house.

Within the past two weeks, the oboe he bought in the pawn shop began to break down. So, this past Friday, we took him to Boston to look for a new one.

The music store had five oboes on hand for him to try. He went back to one of the rooms where he laid out the oboes like they were priceless treasure. To him, they were.

After trying out all of the oboes, he motioned for his dad and me to come in. His face was glowing. He had found the one and the smile never left his face.

He even (reluctantly) agreed to let me take a photo of him playing his new oboe:

I have loved seeing God birth a passion for music in my son’s soul.

I can’t wait to see where this journey takes him as the years unfold.

“Music is God’s gift to man, the only art of Heaven given to earth, the only art of earth we take to Heaven.” —Walter Savage Landor

Last night, my home was filled with dozens of women celebrating a very special lady…and a powerful and merciful God.

T. turned 50 on Sunday. Rather than dread or bemoan this birthday, she met it with joy and gratitude…because at one point, she didn’t know if she would live to ever see that milestone.

Eight years ago, T. was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. The doctor was starkly honest: the odds of her survival were extremely slim. Her only option was an experimental treatment that would practically kill her before (if) it healed her.

What followed was a grueling treatment, as well as a time of  unparalleled intimacy with Jesus.

T. is one of most humble women I know. She made it clear that she did not want the focus of this party to be her.  Rather, she wished to have the spotlight shine brightly  on her Savior and what He has done. Her entire life points to Him so last night was no different.

At one point in the evening, she blessed all of us with a few words of encouragement. She spoke of a tender Savior who speaks personally and intimately to our hearts from  the pages of His  precious Word.

She spoke of the sheer joy of a life lived in full surrender and total dependence upon Him.

She spoke of a refreshing humility that is borne of adversity and loosens the confining shackles of self and the illusion of control over one’s destiny.

She spoke of a deep desire to spend the rest of her days bringing glory to the One who healed her body of cancer…but more importantly saved and redeemed her soul.

She spoke of a Savior who breathes hope into every circumstance, no matter how dire.

T. makes me want to press on to know Jesus better. She radiates His beauty and His peace.

The entire evening was filled with love, sweet fellowship, good food, lots of laughter and even some silliness… Bob the Banana did make an appearance. Because really…what says, “Happy 50th birthday!” like a 6 foot tall velvet banana?!

And all the while, I felt the smile of Christ who is the Author of Joy and delights in His people.

Happy birthday, sweet T. You are loved!

Today my daughter Julia turned 14 years old.

I find that incredibly hard to believe.

It seemed like just yesterday she was a little girl who loved vanilla ice cream cones and men riding motorcycles.

(Funny story: when Julia was three years old, we were having lunch at our favorite Italian restaurant when four Hell’s Angels walked in and sat at a table near us. She was absolutely transfixed. She spent the rest of the lunch saying, “I like those mans! I like those mans!” 🙂 ).

This led to my brother-in-law warning us that one day she might come home with a tattooed, leather-clad boyfriend named Thor.

We shall see.

Julia has always had a sweet spirit and a kind heart.

Do you notice how her hands are folded in the above photo? She did that constantly during her first year and I have no idea why but it was so darned cute.

The morning we had her dedicated at church, she allowed Pastor John to hold her and as he turned her so that she was facing the congregation, she folded her hands in a very ladylike fashion and coolly surveyed the people, totally unfazed.

Pastor John was so charmed that it led him to say, “Let this be a lesson to all the parents out there.” 🙂

Julia has always had a perpetually sunny personality.

In fact, her entire room is decorated in a cheery smiley face motif. (Along with the Abbey Road Beatles poster, Audrey Hepburn from ‘Breakfast At Tiffany’s, a calendar entitled ‘Nuns Having Fun’ and a Ted Williams tin touting the soft drink Moxie).

Her tastes are a tad eclectic.

What is missing is a poster of Clay Aiken of  ‘American Idol’ fame.

When Julia was five years old, she developed a love for Clay Aiken and insisted that she was going to grow up and marry him. (Note the huge departure from the aforementioned Hell’s Angel type).

Doug and I decided to buy tickets for the AI summer tour that year and her excitement level was off that charts the night of the concert. We had pretty good seats and the highlight of her night was seeing Clay perform in person.

Afterward, she asked if she could please, please, please have a poster of Clay for her room.

We stood in a very long line to purchase the poster and she happily clutched it all the way home.

However, the instant the poster was unrolled and ready to be hung, the honeymoon was over.

She began to cry while pointing at the photo of her beloved and wailing, “It’s so ugly! There are things all over his face! Take it away!!!”

Those “things” were freckles.

Clearly, she is not a fan.

Nor is she a fan of the French braid.

Julia has always been a tomboy and she barely tolerated any kind of fussing with her hair.

However, when my friend Ida Mae was visiting many years ago, she asked Julia if she could braid her hair. Julia agreed and seemed quite happy to comply. That is, until she saw her reflection.

This was her reaction:

Needless to say, the dreaded French braid never made another appearance.

Since an early age, Julia has loved to create. She draws, writes, paints, plays the flute, and last year, she was in her first play, Little Women.

Like her grandfather, she is also a big history buff. She watched every single debate during the 2008 election season and knows the names of her governor and her representatives. I had no clue about any of those things when I was her age.

I think she may have politics in her future. A few years ago, the kids had an opportunity to participate in a program called “Exchange City.”  It is an excellent program that teaches kids what is involved in running a city. They have 3 1/2 months of classroom instruction, followed by a two-day simulation at an Exchange City location. They had to interview or campaign for their jobs and Julia was determined to become the judge of the city. She campaigned by creating a campaign poster and writing a speech about what she would do as judge and sent it out electronically to kids from all over the state who would be doing the simulation with her.

She lost…but when the next semester came around, she decided to go for it again. We admired and encouraged her tenacity. This time, she won and that was one of the proudest days of her life. This is one of my favorite photos:

This week during a field trip sponsored by her school, she is going to have the opportunity to see and hear a Supreme Court case being argued and she can hardly wait.

I would not at all be surprised if one day she actually becomes a judge.

I have already signed on to be her campaign manager when it’s time for her to run for office.

Julia loves animals,  watching old black and white movies with her daddy, and all kinds of music.

She insists that her first car is going to be a used black Hummer, of all things. Here she is posing beside one back in May:

She decided to follow her brother and attend the local high school after years of being home-schooled and she is thriving. She plays the flute in the band and is on the volleyball team.

On her Facebook page, Julia writes that “I love my family and friends more than anything.”  And oh, how they love her!

I am so blessed to be the mother of this amazing young lady.

I can hardly wait to see the plans God has for her.

I love you, sweet girl! 🙂

I find that I am paying much more attention to his face.

I am really seeing him.

I notice the way his  deep blue eyes crinkle when he smiles. I love the kindness that emanates from those eyes.

His deep and frequent laugh causes my spirits to lift and wraps me in warmth.

We laugh a lot.

The thick strawberry blonde head of hair he had when we first met is now mostly white. I think it makes him look even more handsome.

I watch his hands. They are strong hands. These hands have held our babies and taught them both to play the piano, cooked some wonderful meals (he is a much better cook than I am!), played the guitar for me, held tightly to mine countless times through the years, and never shied away from hard work. The well-worn gold band on his left ring finger has been there for nineteen years. I still vividly remember the day I first slipped it on his finger, full of  joy that we had found each other.

I listen to the timbre of his voice. His is a voice that always speaks reason…is loathe to say anything negative about anybody…seeks to understand another’s point of view…speaks encouraging words…prays fervently… and tells me he loves me every single day.

I notice these things much more often now that we primarily see each other on the weekends.  Our time together is no longer unlimited; therefore it is necessary to make the most of the time that we are in the same space.

I find that I don’t take anything for granted. Even the simplest things, like making a run to the grocery store, is an opportunity to spend time together.

I find that I live the life out of every moment when he is home.

I love that after twenty one years together, I am  still discovering new things about him.

As the late, great Rich Mullins once said:

Love is a miracle
It’s a miracle if you can find it

So true.

Treasure the loves in your life.    Study their faces.  Listen to them. Celebrate them. Thank God for them. Tell them you love them.

They are such precious gifts.

They are miracles.

My sister-in-law  Leslie and her husband  Tony came to visit us this weekend.

Over a yummy dinner of takout Chinese food, we started reminiscing about years gone by.

I mentioned that Doug and I knew who really loved us by who came to visit us when we lived in a small two-bedroom apartment in the town of New Canaan, CT after we were married. They didn’t mind that the kitchen was the size of a closet or  that there was only one (hideously ugly yellow) bathroom, or that they would have to sleep on an air mattress on the floor; they just wanted to be with us. Tony and Leslie and their three kids visited us a lot.

One summer afternoon, we all decided to have a picnic at Waveny Park, a beautiful oasis in the middle of the town. The sun was shining and the air was warm; it was the perfect day. Our border collie Charlie joyfully chased our nephews and niece through the open fields. We played lots of ball games and ate  good food.

Nothing momentous happened. It was an ordinary day.

Yet, Tony said something at dinner on Saturday night that surprised me.

He said, “You know what? The only thing I really remember about that day is Susan saying, “We’re making a memory!”

I had no recollection of saying that at all…but I loved that that was the main thing he remembered.

It was true.

We have lots of photos from that picnic and each time I look at them, I can almost hear the laughter of a family celebrating being together on a Saturday afternoon.

Last October, I was able to see Beth Moore speak in Massachusetts. Her topic was “The Lost Art of Treasure.”

In Luke 2, Mary is found to be treasuring so many things in her heart. Beth shared that in the original language, the word for “treasure” means: “to hold or treasure up in one’s memory; to guard, keep, preserve, keep safe, keep close.”

Are you treasuring your days like that? Are you slowing down enough to take in the moment, to truly see the people who are on this journey through life with you?

Beth pointed out the sad truth that “we don’t have time to look for treasure because we live in a cycle of over-productivity and collapse. Treasuring takes time. We have to stop and treasure. We tend to live beyond our limits and we are exhausting ourselves…we need to slow down. You must make up your mind that you will cooperate with God to see the treasure. It doesn’t happen by accident.”

She reminded us that there are treasures everywhere and they are ours for the taking. All we need is eyes to see.

As you begin this day, determine to look for the treasures. They are there.

I’d love to hear about what you find.

Today was the first day of school in our town.

In years past, the first day of school at Brown Academy (our homeschool) looked like this: the kids would greet the day with a breakfast of cupcakes, get most of their work done by noon, then we would go out to lunch and take a walk.

Today was slightly different. 🙂

There were no cupcakes this morning…just cinnamon rolls, eggs, and sausage.

Breakfast was followed by the obligatory first-day-of-school photo:

 I wish I could get my son to give me a real smile for a photo but I take what I can get.

Of course, as I was taking the photo, this is what I seeing in my mind’s eye:

After a flurry of activity, we all piled into the car by 7 a.m.

Ten minutes later, I watched my freshman and sophmore walk into the high school together. As they disappeared through the automatic doors and into a new adventure, my eyes did fill with tears just a bit.

I marveled at Jesus’ tender mercies to me that morning. For one thing, due to the flooding in Vermont, my husband was here to see the kids off to school before leaving to head back to work. Right after he left, my brother showed up to wish the kids a good day. He then joined me for a walk around the high school track. After our workout, we ran into a sweet friend from church who greeted me with a big hug and encouraging words. I love how He cares about every detail of our lives and sends loved ones across our paths just when we  need it most.

I headed home, grateful that my faithful Bichon Frise Buddy would be waiting for me.

I am his very favorite person in the world. The only time he leaves my side is when he hears someone eating anywhere in the house. Then it’s “hasta la vista, baby!” When he is done begging for scraps, he comes trotting back  and promptly glues himself to me.

He did come running to the door, tail wagging happily.

And then he looked behind me, as if to say, “Where is everybody else???”

“You mean you’re it???”

He looked back and me and blinked, clearly bewildered and displeased.

This was Buddy’s reaction when I told him that yes indeed, it was going to be just him and me for the next several hours:

Notice the drooping tail. This was not good news.

I was shocked. I thought he would love the idea of having me all to himself for an entire day.

But no.

He moped at various places all over the house:

In the bonus room…

In the kitchen…

On the back of the couch (where he kept a close eye on the front door in hopes that everyone would come home already)…

He stood guard at the back door…

He waited in vain at the front door…

He paced the hallways…

He could barely contain his boredom at being alone with me in the house…

So he went to sleep until that blessed hour when the kids came home…

I must admit that I was a tad excited when it came time to pick the kids up at the school…

This is my view on the drive there…

We are so blessed to live in such a beautiful place.

The kids came barreling out of the school full of energy, smiles, and excitement.

It had been a very good day.

And as the day ends, darkness falls, and the house is once again quiet after bedtime, I give thanks to my very good God who has entrusted me with these two wonderful children.

I rest in knowing that I completed the assignment He gave me when He called me to home school and I look forward with great anticipation to this new season.

I intend to treasure every moment.

I smiled to myself as I finished putting on my lipstick.

In a few minutes, I would log onto Skype. My husband’s face would fill the screen of my laptop and our virtual “date” would begin.

After 19 years of marriage, I still feel like I did in the early stages of our relationship: my heart flutters a little and I’m excited to see him. That is a wonderful thing.

When we took our premarital counseling classes with our pastor, he encouraged us to “never stop dating.” We have taken his advice and I would encourage all couples to do the same.

Even when our kids were babies and we didn’t have a babysitter, we would still make time for our monthly date. After the kids were in bed for the night, we would order takeout, light a candle (the candlelight was helpful in hiding the enormous bags under my eyes! 🙂 ),  and put on some music, transforming our kitchen into romantic dinner date spot. (Well, as romantic as a kitchen in a rented house with yellow walls and blue counter tops can be!).

As I mentioned earlier in the week, my husband is working in Vermont during the week. So, Skype has become a good friend to us. I love knowing that at the end of the day, I’m not only going to hear his voice but I will see his face.

The kids and I gather around the laptop at the appointed time and we visit for the next hour, recounting what our day has been like. One of my friends suggested that we Skype during dinner, which is a fabulous idea. We will just put the laptop where Doug usually sits and continue to enjoy our meals together.

As my 88 year old aunt said when I told her about Skype, “Isn’t technology something?”

The only member of our family who is thoroughly confused by all this  is our Bichon Frise, Buddy.

It makes him crazy. He can hear Doug’s voice but he can’t see him. (My son tells me that dogs can’t see computer screens). His ears perk up and he runs to the front door, his tail wagging excitedly. When Doug doesn’t appear, he sprints across the house to sit in front of the garage door, his little body practically shaking with excitement.

Eventually, his tail wags less enthusiastically, then finally stops and droops sadly.

He then usually slinks over to the sofa, uses his paws to make the pillow flat, spins around a few times and finally throws himself down with a giant sigh. Whatever is going on, he doesn’t like it one bit.

Poor Buddy.

Imagine his joy when he actually sees Doug in person tonight. 🙂