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photo credit: The_Roc

Hurricane Irene made an unwelcome visit to much of the East coast this weekend.

We lived in south Florida for five years and endured four hurricanes. They certainly can be terrifying and destructive, as hurricane Katrina heartbreakingly demonstrated.

The night that our Florida town received a direct hit from hurricane Wilma was one of the scariest nights of my life. We were without power for nine days. There was destruction everywhere. Cleaning up all the debris in the yard took one full week. Traffic lights were down, grocery stores were empty, and curfews were imposed. It was something I will never forget.

As the clouds darkened and the storm approached  our New England town on Sunday afternoon, I read Ps. 62 and was reminded where my true security lies:

Truly my soul finds rest in God;
my salvation comes from Him.
Truly He is my rock and my salvation;
He is my fortress and I will never be shaken…

My salvation and my honor depend on God;
He is my mighty rock, my refuge.
Trust in Him at all times, you people;
pour out your hearts to Him,
for God is our refuge..(vv. 1-2; 7-8)

This is a  wonderful Scripture to cling to during all the storms of life.

We are safe in His all-powerful hands.

How did Irene affect you? (Fortunately, we  only lost power for a short time and there was very little damage in our town).

I love people-watching.

I find people absolutely fascinating, which I suppose is why I enjoy writing about them and  why I chose to get  my graduate degree in counseling.

This summer, my son and I have been spending our off days from the gym walking at the high school track and I am constantly intrigued by the people I see there.

Some examples:

***Today, there was  an older couple (I would say they were in their 70s). Both were obviously in excellent shape. They each had the long, lean muscled look of runners. The husband alternated his time doing wind sprints, stretching, then finally doing several laps around the track. His wife had apparently recently suffered something akin to a stroke.

She circled the track while holding onto ski poles, her body leaning slightly toward one side. Her husband would periodically come alongside her and rub her back a couple of times while speaking what I am guessing were words of support. It was obvious that this effort took a lot out of her, but the determined look I saw on her face as we passed each other told me that she was willing to do the hard work it took to regain full health.  Her spirit shone. Finally, once her workout was over, she headed slowly down the hill to the elementary school in the direction of the swings on the playground.

As I rounded the corner and saw her, a big smile broke across my face. This seventy-plus woman was swinging high and fast with a look of absolute joy on her face. Her body knew no limits on that swing; there was no evidence that there was anything wrong.

It was a reminder to me that a little child still lives inside all of us. Taking the time to enjoy a swing is a good way to tap into that part of us that still delights to play.

Eventually, her husband finished his workout, then made his way to his wife. She brought the swing to a stop, reached out for his hand, then the two of them walked hand-in-hand to their car together. Sweet.

***There are the high school football players who gather on the field around the track, full of testosterone and athletic grace, running play after play in anticipation of another winning season.

Big dreams live in a small town.

***Speaking of football, as we walked around the track one evening, a father and son arrived. The father looked like a former football player. He carried a ball, a towel, and a couple of waters. His son followed his dad at a distance, head hung low, shoulders stooped. His body language screamed, “I don’t want to be here!!!” The dad appeared utterly unfazed as he began to put his son through a workout. The son obediently followed his dad’s instruction, but it was clear his heart was not in it.

Our children are not extensions of us. They are their own people, with their unique hopes and dreams. Whose dream was being played out there?

***A teenage girl comes by herself nearly every day to practice lacrosse. She stretches, sprints, handles the ball and her stick over and over again, making it look effortless.  She doesn’t appear aware of anyone else at the track. Her focus is absolutely laser-like.

I marvel, having never known that complete and total dedication to anything when I was a teenager. I admire her determination. How wonderful to have discovered a passion at such a young age.

***But my absolute favorite thing has been walking that track with my son (and sometimes my daughter joins us too). We have walked miles and miles, sometimes in the early morning but mostly at night as the sun slips slowly below the mountains, painting everything with a soft orange-pink glow.

I am a mom of two teenagers and I love that we can share so much laughter.

They ask me to tell them stories from my life and I can sometimes see the light dawn in their eyes as they get a glimpse of “Susan” and not just “Mom.”

I have been able to share honestly about some of the mistakes I have made…things I wish I had done differently. It is deeply humbling…but necessary in striving to keep the lines of communication open.

Forty-six year olds really do remember what it was like to be thirteen and fifteen. 🙂

I encourage them to stay physically fit all their lives and extol the many benefits of regular exercise, just like my dad did for me.

They sometimes laugh at my dorkiness but assure me that they love me anyway.

We share prayer requests, concerns, dreams, matters of the heart.

I know they don’t tell me everything…but I rest in the fact that their God, who created them and loves them more than I can conceive, knows it all and I pray for His protection and guidance over their sweet lives.

I have treasured these days with all my heart, knowing that in a few short years, they will most likely leave our small town to begin their own journey.

And I hope that long after I’m gone, Josh and Julia will remember this summer when we circled  round and round the high school track , making memories and sharing laughter and lives.

“Get out of my car!!!” 

A man’s angry voice cut through the summer evening as my brother and I approached his truck.

We had just walked out of the local Walmart to discover that a couple in the car parked next to us were in the midst of a heated argument.

The man’s voice was angry and loud; the woman’s voice was muted. I could hear the words “please” and “don’t do this.”

Suddenly her wallet, coupons, and keys were tossed out of the passenger window onto the pavement, followed by another harsh order to vacate the car.

I could see my brother tense up, his eyes focused like a laser on the man, ready to take action if he got physical.

Just as we finished loading our groceries into the truck, the man quickly backed out of his  space and pealed out of the parking lot.

Left behind was a young woman with tears streaming down her face, long hair blowing in the breeze, eyes following the car as it turned the corner and disappeared over the hill.

She then kneeled down to retrieve her scattered belongings.

“Are you all right?” I asked quietly. Before I could bend to help, she had gathered everything up and held it all against her chest.

She nodded.

“Are you sure?”

She practically whispered, “Yes.”

“Can we give you a ride somewhere?”

“No.” The smallest of smiles…embarrassed, full of sadness, tentative. “Thank you. I’m fine.”

She turned to walk away, dialing her cell phone.

Shortly thereafter, she met up with others and got into the car but not without first looking back in the direction where her boyfriend had driven away.

Her face haunted me as my brother and I pulled into Burger King for a quick dinner. While he ordered the food, I sat looking out the window, praying for this young lady.

Why do women put up with men like that? Men who are cruel and willing to humiliate them in public, leaving them alone among strangers as darkness approaches?

A man like that is not worth her tears or another second of her life.

I was very blessed to be raised in a home where I was taught that I was treasured and valuable. Before Dr. Phil famously coined the phrase, my parents basically told me the same thing: “You teach people how to treat you.”

My dad, especially, was always very frank with me about what boys had on their minds and the importance of my role in relationships with them.

“You never let any boy or man disrespect you,” I can still hear him telling me. “If that happens, you move on. A guy like that will drag you down every time and you don’t need that in your life.”

He provided me with examples of warning signs and red flags that I would need to be aware of . Since he was a wise and realistic man, he would always tell me that if I was ever in a situation where I was in over my head, I could call him anytime of the day or night and he would come and get me, no matter what.

He encouraged me never to settle, that a good man was worth the wait, even if it took a long time (and given the fact that I didn’t get married until I was 27, I would say that I took his advice! 🙂 ).

One of his favorite sayings was, “It’s better to be single and happy than married and miserable.”

He told me that a secure man would not be threatened by a strong woman.

He made sure I was not naive and above all, he wanted me to love smart.

I am absolutely certain that because I had a father who cared enough to tell me the truth that I was saved from a lot of heartache.

As a result of my dad’s straight talk, I was one tough cookie. My  trust was not easily given…it was earned.  I didn’t put up with nonsense and wasn’t easily flattered by pretty words.

I am not saying that I could never have found myself in the place that this young lady was in tonight…we’re all human, after all. However, I will be eternally grateful that I had parents who took the time to teach me that I possessed great worth and dignity since I was created in the image of  God.

My husband and I are raising our daughter the same way. Sometimes I can almost hear my dad’s voice as I find myself saying the exact same things to Julia that he said to me.

Above all, we teach her that she has a Savior who loves her with a love that is both fierce and tender, as well as pure and eternal.

Jesus has no dark side.

Her ultimate worth is found in Christ alone.

I am going to pray that the young lady I met tonight will come to know that too.

“…And it is summer, glorious, deep-toned summer

The very crown of nature’s changing year

When all her surging life is at its full.” 

—excerpt from “Summer” by Amy Lowell

Summer 2011 is racing by.

I am treasuring every single moment.

It is a season of glorious abundance…

Even the aftermath of a storm can be beautiful…

There are invitations to play:

Favorite restaurants to visit…

Sweet treats to consume…

The exquisite promise of new life…

Summer sports…

Time for daydreaming by the lake with friends from school…

Lazy beach days…

Summer is a veritable feast for the senses.

Soak it all in.

“Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it?—-every, every minute?” –Thornton Wilder, Our Town

I recently discovered a blog written by a young woman with an extraordinary story.

She has a severe auto-immune disease that attacks all of her joints, as well as her spine and her neck and lives in constant pain. She is permanently confined to the home and due to the fact that she is also allergic to almost everything, she cannot even open the windows of her condo.

Just imagine.

But don’t pity her. Her attitude is absolutely amazing, as evidenced by the following: “Bottom line, people, I am filled with joy. I am blessed because I take nothing for granted. I love what I have instead of yearning for what I lack. I choose to be happy and I am. It really is that simple, people. Start everyday by being thankful and celebrate your life.”

Well said.

I could not get this lady out of my mind as I went about my day.

My thoughts turned back to 2005 when I had to have back surgery. I was in tremendous pain beginning in January of that year and it took until June to obtain a proper diagnosis. The surgery was scheduled for a month and a half afterward. I was on heavy medication just to be able to function and my world became very small. It consisted of being in my bedroom and going to church one night a week. That was it.

I will never forget the  sheer exhilaration I felt the first time I was able to go out after the long recovery from surgery. My family and I went to CiCi’s Pizza for dinner and I could not stop smiling.

I was out! With people! Able to walk without pain! I was healthy!

I loved every second of that evening…the fact that it was all so wonderfully ordinary was beautiful.

That time forever changed me. I rarely take anything for granted anymore, especially not my health.

Yet, no matter how we try, sometimes it is easy to forget how blessed we truly are. Reading this woman’s blog caused me to see my life through new eyes. To know that I have the freedom to walk out my front door is amazingly liberating. I can feel the grass under my feet, the sun on my skin, the breeze blow through my hair. I can get in my car and go to the store…or take a hike…or visit a friend…or attend Thursday night ladies Bible study at my church.

The day I discovered this blog was a busy one. My son and I went to gym early that morning (he is training for the 5K’s he will be running this summer while I am just trying to keep this 46 year old body of mine in decent shape!). As I worked out, I rejoiced in the fact that all of my limbs work, that I can see and hear, that I am pain-free, that my heart and lungs are strong.

Later that afternoon, my daughter had volleyball camp at the beach. I drank it all in…there was so much beauty everywhere I looked:

The inside of our favorite ice cream parlor

Josh reading a book under a shady tree at the beach

I took so much joy in watching my girl jump, spike,  and serve, her red hair highlighted by the sun and the sound of her laughter mixing with that of her teammates and coach. Thank You, Lord, for the sheer gift of healthy children.

That evening, Josh had a concert in the park. It was a beautiful summer night and there was so much to see:

My wedding rings glittering in the evening sun

The band’s joyous music filled the summer air, transforming an ordinary Wednesday evening into a celebration… and my soul sang.

John Calvin once described nature as God’s “glorious theater.” I couldn’t agree more.

So today, as you go about your day…rejoice that you have the freedom to leave your home. Open your eyes to the beauty that is all around you. Choose to focus on what you have rather than what you don’t.  Celebrate the big and little joys. Live! 

“Just as every day brims with Your beauty, my mouth brims with praise.” —Ps. 71:8 (The Message version)

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness…and for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor.” —excerpt from the Declaration of Independence.

This Fourth of July, our  family celebrated with two fireworks celebrations, three concerts (two were performed by a band our son is in called New Horizons and the other was our church’s worship team, who gave a concert on the front lawn of our church which is right along Main Street). We saw fantastic fireworks, ate burgers, funnel cakes and ice cream, and laughed with friends.

My favorite moment occurred right before the fireworks event we attended on July 3rd when 7000 Americans, who had  gathered beneath the shadow of the mountains to celebrate our nation’s birthday, stood to their feet and sang the national anthem in one strong, mighty, and joyous voice.

It was magnificent.

When the fireworks had ended and the smoke had cleared, Lee Greenwood’s classic song “God Bless The USA” rang through the hills as we all headed back to our homes. It was the perfect way to end the celebration.

Above all, we cherished the fact that we live in the land of the free and the home of the brave…

“…and I’m proud to be an American

Where at least I know I’m free

And I won’t forget the men who died who gave that right to me

And I’d gladly stand up next to you and defend her still today

‘Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land…

God bless the USA!”  –Lee Greenwood

My daughter had a sleepover yesterday.

There was much laughter, squealing, the low hum of constant chatter late into the night, and sugar-fueled energy. This morning, the bowl of Skittles is almost empty and most of the Dr. Pepper 2-liters are drained.

Right now, they are getting ready to go to the town beach and as I listen to all the preparations, I remember what it was like to be that age. Sometimes, I wish I had known then what I know now.

For example:

1. Your parents really did know what they were talking about.

2. Treasure your time with your best friend Tracy. She will leave this earth in only eight short years.

3. Your pesky little brother will be one of your very best friends someday.

4. Do not use “Sun In” when you go to the beach. You will think your hair looks beautiful and natural…but that color doesn’t exist in nature.

5. When going to the beach, do NOT bring that lightweight silver blanket that soaks up the sun’s rays at an alarming speed. And by all means, do NOT only use tanning oil as you stretch out on it and bake yourself for the next several hours. Your 40 year old self will thank you for this.

6. Whenever you have the thought, “This is the end of the world!” …trust me….it isn’t.

7. There is life after math. There is coming a glorious day when no one will  ask you to find that maddening ” X” ever again. You will however, break out into a cold sweat and feel your throat close up when—many, many years from now—your child comes to you with  questioning eyes and holds out an algebra problem. You will then instruct them never to do that to you again and send them immediately to find their father, who never met a math problem he couldn’t solve.

8. You will be horribly embarrassed at the travesty that was considered fashion in the 1980s. Your children will mock you both for your teenage “style” and for your huge hair.

9. At the same time, you will forever love the music from that decade and will teach your children to love it too.

10. Don’t be afraid to dream big. You have a big God.

11. Enjoy being able to eat whatever you want without gaining an ounce.

12. One day your prince will come and he will be worth the wait. It turns out that you like redheads after all. 🙂

And lastly…tell your mom to advise the Olan Mills photographer to nix asking you to strike this cheesy pose:

What would you tell your 14 year old self?

I spent yesterday afternoon cleaning out our homeschooling armoire.

I thought that it would be a fairly quick undertaking, as I had planned just to open a  garbage bag, dump most of the contents inside, and be done with it.

Who was I kidding?

This task ended up taking hours and eventually I was surrounded on the floor by remnants of the past four years. There were postcards from various field trips, some loose photographs,  notebooks filled with writing assignments, careful cursive practice, several strips of Julia’s  self-penned comic strip ” Mousey,”  math worksheets,  meticulously written results from the many science projects done around our kitchen table, some history books from the ‘Beautiful Feet’ curriculum that we all loved.

(Side note: I hated history in school. It was all so boring, simply memorizing dates so I could pass the test. My dad was a major history buff and tried many times to convince me that it was absolutely fascinating.  It wasn’t until I started reading history in story form to my kids through this curriculum that I finally realized how right he was. I learned so much, right along with the kids. So many nights during those years, Doug would come home and I would tell him something I had learned that day. I would ask, “Did you know that??!” And always, he would smile affectionately and say, yes, he had learned that way-back-when in school.) 🙂

When I finally finished clearing everything out, filing what I needed to, getting rid of the garbage  bags, I closed the armoire door…and realized anew that the door to that sweet season has closed.

Soon afterward, I turned on my iPod and was amazed at the Vanessa Williams song that started to play:

Oh how the years go by

Oh how the love brings tears to my eyes

All through the changes, the soul never dies

We fight, we laugh, we cry…as the years go by 

They certainly do.