Salt

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Before living in south Texas, I had not encountered salt this way.  I wouldn't have even known to put it on my bucket list (if I had one).

Strong enough to hold up under my steps, white enough to sparkle in the sunlight, concentrated enough to stay in formation under the smooth water's surface.

Sprinkled over the dirt this way, you'd almost think it was a dusting of snow.   Except it's about 100 degrees out, which is the furthest thing from winter you can imagine.

Amazingly, some plants thrive in this salt land.

And amazingly, the salt land helps me thrive, too.

{Book Review} Ironing Made Easy

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Ironing Made Easy:  The Far Easier Way to Iron

The other day I discovered how to find free Kindle books on Amazon, and while I was paging through my search results, I discovered this little gem that has already saved me at least ten minutes over the course of two already-short ironing sessions.  I discovered that my biggest ironing enemy was my set-up, and with a few simple changes, I am on my way to ironing efficiently.  

On the first week of school and piano lessons, I'm grateful for anything that saves me time on household tasks.  This ebook is free at the moment, so take a look, and let me know if it saves you time!

Books: Country Living

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I was about eight years old when my parents moved out of a neighborhood and into the country.  Five fertile acres with a big garden plot surrounded by fields and pastures became the world of all kinds of childhood adventures for my brother and me.

If you get us started telling you about the sweetest beets, the tenderest carrots, the loads of potatoes, the plum tree, the rhubarb patch, the piles of basalt rocks that were ours to build fortresses, and the stack of small logs that became our log cabin, it might be a while before you get us to stop.  And I haven't even mentioned the gooseberry bush yet!

And then once you knew all about my childhood homes in the country, it wouldn't surprise you at all that one of my favorite little compilations in the Ellen White section of my bookshelf is called Country Living.

I wasn't sure I had ever read it cover to cover before, so I decided to sit down with it this spring and take it all in.  I pulled a couple copies of it off my shelf, only to discover a gem I hadn't noticed before.  What I first thought was a second copy of the same thing was actually a little book called, From City to Country Living:  A Guide to Those Making the Change.

Perfect!  I could read them both together!

For a little background, the compilation "Country Living" is a collection of Ellen White's statements written in the late 1800s and early 1900s, highlighting not only the physical but also the spiritual benefits of a simple country life.  

What I discovered when I picked up the Guide to Those Making the Change was that when the Country Living compilation was put together and published for the first time in 1946 (yes, right after the second world war, when people all over the world were still shaken by the war-time experiences), the reaction far surpassed anyone's expectations, and the little book got printed over and over again in a few short years.  

People were so inspired and had so many questions about country living that the Guide to Those Making the Change was published to give not only general advice about considering a move to the country, but also historical context to many of the statements found in Country Living itself.

While I of course just soaked up every little detail about the lessons to be learned from working the soil, and the peace and health to be enjoyed in a country environment, perhaps the statements in both booklets touching on how to make good solid decisions as a Christian became my favorite parts.  

In fact, if you needed to make any kind of decision in your life, and you were looking for the best ways to know how to make the best decision, whether it had to do with your home's location or not, I would refer you to these two booklets.

Here are some of my favorite gems.

"Better sacrifice any and every worldly consideration than to imperil the precious souls [in context, children and family] committed to your care."  Country Living, 5

"God will reveal from point to point what to do next."  Country Living, 7

"We are to stand free in God, looking constantly to Christ for instruction."  Country Living, 11

"Those who have felt at last to make a move, let it not be in a rush, in an excitement, or in a rash manner, or in a way that hereafter they will deeply regret that they did move out..."  Country Living, 25

"Let everyone take time to consider carefully; and not to be like the man in the parable who began to build, and was not able to finish.  Not a move should be made but that movement and all that it portends are carefully considered--everything weighed...To every man was given his work according to his several ability.  Then let him not move hesitatingly, but firmly, and yet humbly trusting in God."  Country Living, 26

"Spread every plan before God with fasting, [and] with the humbling of the soul before the Lord Jesus, and commit thy ways unto the Lord.  The sure promise is, He will direct thy paths.  He is infinite in resources.  The Holy One of Israel, who calls the host of heaven by name, and holds the stars of heaven in position, has you individually in His keeping..."  Country Living, 28

"If there was ever time for guarded, intelligent planning, now is such a time."  A Guide, 7

"Too much is involved to take one step in the dark...Get all the counsel you can, but make your own decision."  A Guide, 7, 8

"All rash and careless moves are to be avoided.  We must know where we are to go and what we are going to do for a livelihood when we get there.  On the other hand, we are not to sit idly waiting for an opportunity to present itself."  A Guide, 21

"How do we know what God may have in store for us if we do not begin to look around to see?"  A Guide, 22

And because I'm a homemaker at heart, I can't resist including this last passage, even though it's not directly related to making decisions.

"Make a home worthy of the name, not merely a shelter from heat and storm or from the atomic bomb.  Make it a place of peace and contentment, of progressive development of the intellectual and spiritual nature.  Make it a school for the children and parents, a medical center for the community where all will learn of the broader, fuller joy of right living."  A Guide, 36

Country Living is available free as an audio book or a PDF (actually several different formats) here.  You can also purchase a hard copy here.

From City to Country Living:  A Guide to Those Making the Change is available free as a PDF download here.  You can purchase a hard copy here.

Why You're Never too Old for a Good Story

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I'm always looking for ways to reduce stress.  Maybe it's just me, but it's by far easier for me to collect stress than it is for me to get rid of it once I have it.

Some time ago, never mind how long precisely, I realized one thing that really raised my stress level and rush factor was how much time I spend in the car.  We're a one-car family, and on a regular basis that means I get to do extra driving to get things done.  

Since I wasn't actually interested in going out and buying a second car to solve this issue, I thought I had better come up with some other solution.  It's just not worth being stressed on a regular basis by one of my own responsible adult life decisions.

So I got out some story tapes.  Which actually are CDs, but I grew up on story tapes and even records, so that is still what I call them, no matter what the format.

I started listening to stories about my church's history--that box set took me several months' worth of errands to get through, and even a short summer road trip.  Then I got out some sermons and some other stories.

Gradually, I noticed my stress level going down.  I didn't mind an extra wait at the stop light.  Those fifteen minutes between my husband's work and my house flew by, even with morning school traffic.  I found myself encouraged and inspired instead of frantic.

It all started with the Pathways of our Pioneers CD Collection (which you can also download here for no charge).  I resonated with Mrs. Bates every time Joseph Bates left on another sea voyage--my husband was away on a commercial fishing boat at the time.  By the time Ellen White died, and I heard her say, "I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I've committed unto Him against that day," I had to sit in the bank parking lot and wipe my eyes before I could go in to make my deposit.

I got through Great Stories volume 1 (although most are great, some of these do have sad endings...just to warn you!), and a few sermons.

By Christmas time, I had exhausted my story and sermon collection, and so as any self-respecting adult with no children in the house would do, I put more sets of stories on my Christmas list.  And maybe some Ellen White audio books.

I wasn't disappointed.  Christ's Object Lessons has been such a delight--I'm into my second listening already, and someday I may invest in another audio book or two from Remnant Publications.  Great Stories volume 2 awaits me, with all kinds of good stories about people like George Washington, Henry Ford, and more.

I don't dread errand days anymore.  I'm secretly glad I finally get a chance to pick up my stories and books where I left off.  

And really, that simple decision to listen to great stuff has taken away quite a bit of my unnecessary stress...so I guess you could say it has been life changing for me in a significant way.

Happy Pi Day

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I woke up this morning to a reminder from my brother-in-law that today is Pi Day.  There's nothing quite like waking up and realizing that instead of an ordinary day, you get a great holiday to celebrate instead.

During alumni weekend every year at Walla Walla University, the math department holds the Randy Yaw Pi Contest to see who can recite the most digits of Pi from memory.  First prize is $314.15, second prize is $31.41, third prize is $3.14, fourth prize is $.31, fifth prize is $.03, and sixth prize (perhaps the best of all) is approximately one sixth of a penny, specially designed and carved out by one of the math professors each year.

Then when the contest is over, everyone eats pie.

My freshman year of college, a friend of mine made it through 1212 digits before she faltered.  I'm not sure what the record is now, but I think she had the record then.

I didn't ever officially enter the contest, although I had memorized 50 or so digits for fun, and I had always wanted to work out a system to set Pi to music, even though I never seemed to get around to doing so.

Sometimes the best memories are made when you're not expecting them in the least, and that's precisely what happened once when I was walking across campus on the day of the Pi contest.

Seeing two friends, I greeted them and asked, "What are you guys up to?"

"We're practicing to go sing Pi at the Pi contest."

"Really?  I've always wanted to do that!"  I could hardly contain my excitement, and I'm pretty sure I barged in on their plans without so much as an invitation.  We practiced it in parts, two of us at the octave, and one in the middle at the fifth to imitate the style of perfect parallel organum.  Then we were off to make our debut, only minutes after deciding to stop our performance at a moment in Pi where an 8 followed a 5.  You know, for a good cadence.

We got a standing ovation, and we thoroughly enjoyed our pie.

Little did I know then that one of those Pi-singing  friends would become my brother-in-law, and that he would be sending Pi music videos to the whole family on Pi day.

What to do with Bad Thoughts

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Sometimes my thoughts can be like clouds, when I'd rather them be like sunbeams.

I've encountered many helpful ideas to remind me what to do about the cloudy thoughts, but recently something new jumped out at me from Proverbs.

"Commit thy woks unto the LORD, and thy thoughts shall be established."  Proverbs 16:3.

I love how this is part promise and part test question.  On the one hand, it's a relief to know that God cares about and promises to establish my thoughts.  It's a battle I can't and don't have to fight alone.  

On the other hand, my job is to make sure I'm fully committed to Jesus.  Have I taken back the reigns of my heart?  Am I trying to do things my way, or make my plans without seeking Him first?  As soon as I can surrender all the things that trouble and cloud my mind, and commit everything I do to the Lord afresh, I can rest assured that He will bring sunbeam thoughts to my mind to dispel the cloudy ones.

My Five Steps to a Clean Kitchen

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I spend a lot of time in my kitchen, and maybe that's why I'm always thinking about what I can do to make the fun parts (trying a new recipe, anyone?) more fun and the bad parts (another sink full of dishes) take way less time.

In the interest of full disclosure, you should know that I am indeed writing this blog post instead of cleaning my kitchen, but it doesn't worry me, because the system I've been thinking about and working on for months will get me out of the mess I'm in pretty quickly.  Even if I take a few minutes to stop in at this all-too-dormant blog.  :)

So here's the logic behind the system:  I figure I might not have time to do the whole project at once, and I needed a way to prioritize the tasks.  Which things absolutely need to happen?  Which things will wait around for me to come back later without causing further trouble?

These five steps prove to be a consistent success for me, and even if I only have time for one or two steps, I still feel like I've made a dent.  The order is indeed important, and the foundation of the process.  I think through them every time I clean my kitchen, and they help me stay focused.

1.  Put away the food

I hate throwing away perfectly good food, and we all know food doesn't last as long if we don't get it back into the refrigerator.  Putting all the food--even non-perishables--back where it belongs not only preserves it, but also clears a lot of visual space in the kitchen.

2.  Get rid of trash and compost

I'm not always great at cleaning as I go (my mother-in-law is amazing at this), so I often have an empty can, tofu box, wrapper....you get the idea....left out after the meal is prepared.  Plus scraps for the compost bin.  Once the food is taken care of, getting the trash and compost out of the kitchen clears that space and removes the gross factor for later.

3.  Put away clean dishes

My mom tells me I should empty the dishwasher before I make the next meal, and she's absolutely right.  But I don't always do it.  I do find, though, that if I put away all the clean dishes before I start rinsing the dirty ones, I then have a place to put the dirty dishes when they're rinsed for the dishwasher or hand washed.

4.  Rinse and wash the dirty dishes

This goes pretty quickly once all the other clutter has been dealt with.  Even if I have to come back to it later, it's not as overwhelming when the dishwasher and drying areas are cleared out.

5.  Wipe all the counters and clean the sink

I used to clean my sink once per week.  As a single person, that kind of worked, but it really didn't work well when I got married.  Marriage meant that I was cooking a lot more often, and you know what that means for the sink.  Eventually I figured out that cleaning the sink--actually scrubbing it out--every day made a huge difference in how I felt about working in my kitchen.  Cleaning the counters after each meal puts that finishing touch on a the kitchen, so that the next time I come in I feel inspired to cook delicious food once again.

If I've kept up on it through the day, this routine takes me ten to fifteen minutes, which feels efficient to me.

Do you have any tips for keeping up on the kitchen work?  I'd love to hear!

Summer Success Story: Exercise

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You guys, I am praising the Lord big time this morning.  Maybe it's not something that would seem like a big deal to other people, but it is huge to me.  But before I tell you why, I have to back up in the story a little bit.

For the last several years, I've been in a battle against some health problems.  Now, most people wouldn't know it to look at me, because we have this idea in our society that if you are thin, you are automatically healthy.  And unless you know the subtle physical signs of Graves' Disease, you wouldn't realize what a mess is going on inside the endocrine system.

Over the past two or so years, I've been blessed with a diagnosis--yes, KNOWING what is wrong is a blessing, because then you can figure out how to fix it!--as well as good medical care.  

The thing was, even though my thyroid levels finally returned to normal, and I felt mostly better, I developed some new symptoms that, while each successive doctor and specialist told me were benign, were in actuality disrupting my quality of life on a regular basis.

So last fall the decision came down to two options:  I could go to another specialist, who my cardiologist said might be able to help me (but in all honesty, he told me he wasn't sure if there was anything they could do).  

Or I could take a different direction and see a lifestyle medicine specialist/nutritionist who would take a broad look at a lot of blood work, and fix whatever was obvious.

I chose the broad look at a lot of blood work.

How much blood work that would mean didn't really sink in until I fainted in the lab when they were drawing about the twentieth vial of blood.  I had never fainted before, but it really wasn't that bad.  They took great care of me, and most importantly, got all that blood work done, which showed all kinds of interesting things about how I could improve my health, naturally.

So last winter the fainting thing was a first for me, but so also was being able to go for a run, and run for thirty minutes without stopping.  Oh, how I worked to reach that goal!  Already the lifestyle medicine approach was working.  My symptoms weren't completely gone, but they were improving.

Well, fast forward to the beginning of summer, and I faced two big hurdles.  They were named HEAT, and FISHING SEASON.

Heat is miserable on multiple levels, but specifically for me, it was a hurdle because I knew I needed to keep up on my exercise program in order to keep experiencing the health benefits I was beginning to enjoy more abundantly.  

I knew the night time temperatures would not drop much if at all below 80 for several months, and I knew it would be difficult to get exercise without putting myself in danger for heat exhaustion.  I figured I could walk outside for a few minutes after breakfasts and suppers, but I didn't know what I would do after lunch or for the vigorous exercise my lifestyle medicine specialist recommended.  

And then fishing season.  My husband's family have been commercial fishermen in Bristol Bay (see me standing in Bristol Bay in the sidewalk map above?) for several generations, and this summer, that meant my husband would be away for about six weeks.  I had to find a way to combat the loneliness I would face spending that much time by myself.

As it turned out, finding a solution for exercise also turned out to be one of the key things that helped me get through fishing season on my own.

My mother-in-law, who is a great runner and who with my husband is just the greatest exercise cheerleader on the planet (actually, so is my father-in-law...I'm really blessed to have them in my life), kept encouraging me to explore a gym membership.  And being the cheapskate that I am, I didn't want a gym membership.

But after she mentioned it again and again, I decided to ask Google if there were any free exercise videos I could use at home from my computer.  Then I clicked the first link, and started looking through what the site had to offer.

More than 60 free exercise videos, at all fitness levels.
Some videos using equipment, but many without.
A Christian health and wellness perspective.
Appropriately dressed women.
Free access to the videos by just supplying your e-mail address.
Options to download the videos to your phone or computer, and use them offline if you wanted.

Because the woman in charge viewed this as her ministry.

Well.  Sign me up.

I started right away.  I put on a video whenever a thunderstorm or the intense heat and humidity kept me from walking outside after a meal, or going for a run.  Which, let's be honest, was at least once every day, and sometimes more!  I explored a few beginner body weight workout videos.  And, oh, yes, the beginner videos were enough for me!

But only at first.  After a while, I noticed I could try out harder ones.  I also noticed that if I was feeling lonely and just ready to cry knowing my husband wouldn't be home for several more weeks, and then decided to do even just a ten-minute workout video, I would immediately notice a peace and calm in my emotions that hadn't been there before the exercise.  

As they say, you're only one workout away from a good mood!

That was fourteen weeks ago.  I know that because Michelle, the founder of faithfulworkouts.com, sends me an e-mail each week, encouraging me to keep at it.  Yesterday's e-mail said it was week 14 for me.  And while I haven't been completely faithful, I've certainly been making improvements.

Of course I had other strategies too, but those workout videos were a HUGE part of getting myself through the six weeks of fishing season while my husband was working hard in Bristol Bay.  I can't explain to you all the physiology and science behind it, but I can tell you from my own experience that emotional well being and exercise walk hand in hand.

This morning, though, I didn't work out with Michelle.  The morning temperature was down to 69.  Below 70.  For the first time in MONTHS.  {Imagine it if you can.  I dare you.}  So I went for a run for the first time in at least two months, just to see how I would do, and to see if exercising with Michelle all summer long had preserved any of my ability to run.

I felt great at five minutes.  And just fine at ten minutes.  And breathed harder at fifteen minutes.  And stopped at twenty minutes.

Which is longer than I was able to run without stopping before the summer heat hit.  Which means exercising with Michelle all summer long was a great idea on so many levels.

Now, I wouldn't want anyone to think that they have to follow the same exercise plan that I do.  We each have to find out what works best for us.  But I would love to encourage each of you to make an exercise plan, and to stick with it, and find ways to get exercise even when life and summer heat and whatever else don't seem like they're cooperating with your goals.

The exercise is worth it, not just on a physical level, but on the emotional level, too.  

And if you're interested in more natural ways to improve emotional health, I highly recommend this lecture (click over to the blog for the link if you're reading this in e-mail).  I've listened to it three times in the last week or so, because it's just that inspiring and fascinating.

Two Years

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{Celosia going to seed}

Two years ago today we drove into town, our little car weary and worn from more than one 2500 mile drive over the summer.

We didn't know where the car repair shop was.
We didn't know where the grocery store was.
We didn't know where we were going to live.
We didn't even know where we could stay the night.

We didn't know anyone who could help us find any of the things we needed, except maybe a new coworker or two from my husband's new school.

Although we were excited about the possibilities, we were entirely unprepared for the culture shock brought on by the climate, attending church in a language we didn't speak well, and the way people drive in this flood plain they call the Rio Grande Valley.

Yet somehow we found a little hotel room with a kitchenette that became our center of operations while we waited for the car repair, searched for a place to live, and began our new life in South Texas.

That first week, friends of a friend welcomed us into their home for Sabbath dinner.  We found a house to rent that turned out to be only a block or so away from a wonderful Adventist couple our age who have become good friends.  

We responded to a Craigslist ad for free lemons, bought a citrus juicer (all our stuff was still in storage in another state), and made lemon juice.  Because that's what you do when life gives you lemons.  (Couldn't resist.)

My mom sent word that not only was she coming to visit, but she was also sending us a piano that would arrive on the same day as she would, which turned out to be the same day our moving truck arrived.  

We camped out in an empty house for three weeks--what I went through to find an air mattress without a hole in it!--waiting for my mom, the piano, and the moving truck, just thrilled to have our own space and be out of hotels.  We bought 40 pounds of limes for $4 at the flea market, some jars, and a pot, and I spent days making and canning our own lime juice.

Because that's what you do in a new place, right?  Buy produce in large quantities and set right to work preserving?

And of course you plant your seeds for the fall garden.  We were a bit late--September 11 that year--but since South Texas really doesn't have winter to speak of, it worked out fine.  We had carried our little box of seeds everywhere we went that summer like regular Johnny Appleseeds, to good purpose.

This morning I looked at my kitchen sink full of dishes that I didn't get to last night, and thought through the day ahead.  Costco run.  Groceries.  Bank.  Gas for the car.  Teaching lessons.  Keeping house.  Saving seeds from the stunning celosia flowers that bloomed and attracted the butterflies all summer long.  Watching for the next rain, when I will plant some new fall crops.

A busy day ahead, for sure, but a day of blessings.  Dirty dishes are blessing dishes, evidence of good meals, a settled home.  Errands to run, without looking at Google maps, are blessing errands, especially when you know just which stores offer the best prices.

And teaching lessons?

Oh, my, that itself is blessing unbounded, and full of surprises and delights at every turn.

One Strong Woman

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I love many things about living in south Texas, but the tap water is not one of them.  Michigan boasts terrible water.  Virginia's water is an improvement over Michigan's, which isn't saying much.  Texas's water rates somewhere in there with the not-so-great water of Michigan and Virginia, and since living here, we've resorted to buying all our drinking water.

It's a far cry from the fabulous well water in Washington and Alaska my husband and I both grew up on.

I confess hauling and pouring water ranks pretty low on my chore enjoyment scale.  Every time I go fill up the five-gallon jugs, or pour water out of the five-gallon jugs into smaller jugs for daily use, I groan inwardly and wish someone else would do it for me.

Then, every time, I remember Rebekah.

Rebekah, who not only poured water but also drew water from the wells or troughs long enough to quench the thirst not only of human guests but of camels.  Rebekah, who must have been one strong, in-shape woman, working in a climate perhaps similar to my own.  Rebekah, who wasn't afraid of a little--or a lot of--extra physical work.  

Rebekah, whose attitude of cheerful, extra-mile service above all other qualities recommended her to be Isaac's wife and Abraham's daughter-in-law.

All these thousands of years later, every time I haul water and pour water and start out inwardly complaining that I'm stuck doing a chore I really don't like, Rebekah's story humbles me.  

By the time I finish hauling and pouring I'm inspired to exercise more often so I can be strong like she was, change my attitude so I can go the extra mile like she did, and do these acts of service in my home cheerfully like Rebekah would.

Life is Hard

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Or is life just funny?  

I don't frequent either of these establishments, but I laugh every time I pass their corner.  Do the Weight Watchers participants have to fight temptation before and after every meeting?  Do the ice cream customers get a visual reminder to eat healthier every time they order their cones?

A Musician's Thoughts on Sad Music

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My soundtrack that last spring of graduate school as I studied, wrote papers, washed dishes (it DID happen sometimes!) was something we were learning in choir, "When David Heard", a Biblical text set afresh by Eric Whitacre.

"When David heard that Absalom was slain, he went up into his chamber over the gate, and wept, and thus he said,  'O, my son Absalom!  Would God I had died for thee!'"

The music had arrived late, which put us behind our rehearsal schedule for this fifteen-minute no-small-task piece, and our director asked us to listen to it often, following our parts.

And yes, I did just say fifteen-minute piece, and yes, the text above is the entire text. 

It's David weeping for his son, after all, knowing he might have been able to do something more not only for his physical salvation, but also his spiritual salvation, yet seeing that last chance slip through his fingers with his son's death in battle.

It's a complicated story, and I think David's grief was complicated.  Which, quite frankly, makes that fifteen minutes of beautiful and haunting choral weeping seem quite appropriate.

(If you're reading on e-mail, click over to the blog to listen to the YouTube recording.)

Then last week my mom told me about a talk she heard called "Ten Things to do to be Happy".  One of the things, she said, was to listen to sad music.

Wait, what?

The logic had something to do with the sad music giving you a venue to release and process your own sadness, rather than hanging onto it at the expense of your overall happiness.

Well, I had been feeling the weight of stress--my own, and some very intense experiences other people in my life had been going through--and I decided to give it a try.  I knew just where to begin, too, with that choir piece from graduate school, beautiful choral weeping spanning fifteen minutes.

And it sort of worked.  It did give me space to process.

The music made me cry a little, and while the words repeated over and over I had space to think and pray about all the things going on around me that didn't really make much sense.  In fact, I listened to the piece several times over a couple of days. 

There came, however, a limit.  Because the sad music didn't just give me the space to process, and then move on, but it also kept me processing beyond my need for the moment, and it KEPT me feeling sad.  

I needed happier music, and I needed it right away if I wasn't going to wallow in sadness indefinitely.

Enter "Eat Your Vegetables" (video below), another favorite graduate school discovery.  It's about prolific gardens and vegetables and the kind of bounty we all want our soil to bring forth, with a good share of humor mixed in.

It didn't take many rounds of vegetable music before I really did start to feel happier again.

So in case you're wondering if you should try listening to sad music to help you be happier?  Here's my vote:  give yourself a few minutes to listen to something sad, but plan ahead of time that you'll listen to something happy, too.

Because in the opinion of this musician at least, music not only gives us the chance to express and process the emotions we already have, but also the chance to influence the emotions and thoughts we want to have.  And if you want happiness, you can't feed yourself sadness and weeping, however beautifully composed, forever.

Putting Down Roots

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Is it even possible not to love orange blossom season?

By summer, I may well be weary of the relentless heat.  For now, though, I'm basking in the wisps of scent, here from the oranges, there from the huisache trees lining the running path.

There are days, even still, when this little transplant called me longs for something familiar, for family close enough to drive over for the weekend, for peaches in the summertime and tulips in spring.

Ah, but most days, when I walk out the door only to find whole flower beds full of blooming Amaryllis, or the neighbor's loaded papaya tree, or a real live alligator tussle in the nearby state park, or my very own year-round tiny plot of edible bounty....

My roots run just a little deeper into this foreign delight called tropical Texas.

He Came Upon a Midnight: Christmas hope for your mid-February

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I've never been one to limit my Christmas music to December.  As a musician, Christmas always comes in October anyway, and I don't see a reason to force it into the closet on December 26.

After all, I want Jesus to stay right by me the rest of the year, so why not His story? 

This particular holiday season was hectic for us beyond the usual programs and concerts, so I ended the year feeling like I really hadn't done the Christmas carols thing this year.  Not that I was going to do anything about it, mind you, but I did notice.

Some of my piano students agree with me about Christmas music all year; others don't.  The ones who agree get to keep their Christmas music out as long as they'd like--which is why I ended up with one student practicing Christmas through January, and why I started another one on Christmas music in February, for the reading skills, of course.

Is that what led to opening up some Christmas music and playing it during my supper preparations this evening?

Whatever made me do it, those piano sounds turned me teary-eyed pretty quickly.  

It came upon a midnight clear, 
That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth
To touch their harps of gold:
"Peace on the earth, good will to men, 
From heaven's all-gracious King;"
The world in solemn stillness lay,
To hear the angels sing.

My heart once more had no words, no words for the dear ones I know who right now suffer fear, worry, anxiety, sickness.  

Still through the cloven skies they come,
With peaceful wings unfurled,
And still their heavenly music floats
O'er all the weary world;
Above its sad and lowly plains
They bend on hovering wing,
And ever o'er its Babel sounds
The blessed angels sing. 

And once more, my prayer, my hopes for them ascended high, pleading that these same angels would come and brighten the path for my dear ones.  

And ye, beneath life's crushing load, 
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and slow--
Look now! for glad and golden hours
Come swiftly on the wing;
O rest beside the weary road,
And hear the angels sing. 

Once more through a hymn words of faith crept into my mind, offering their hope not just to me, but to my dear ones, too.

After all, Jesus still offers rest beside the weary road, even if it's February instead of December.

January

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I'll admit it.  I'm not used to January looking like this, but I certainly wouldn't dream of complaining about it.

All the zinnias are blooming.  We're still eating something out of our own garden every single day.  (This is day 137 in a row!)  The local orchards (both the professionals and the friends' home trees) are in full swing.

The piano students started coming through the doors again this week, and the closer it came to the time they walked into the studio?  I was as excited as a kid before a birthday party.  It's fun to like your job that much.

I haven't made resolutions.  At least not officially.  I hardly ever do.  Maybe because I've never felt like January was The Big Start.  That happens when school starts in August or September.  January is just a little re-start into what should already be a good routine.

So this January, my resolutions go about as far as trying to adhere more faithfully to the bedtime schedule I set for myself in August.

As I told a new little kindergarten-year-old friend of mine in December, I get really tired when I stay up past my bedtime.

"Me, too," she said solemnly.

And as I'm making progress toward managing my evenings the way I should, I'm getting reacquainted with that favorite time of day of mine.

Early morning.

Nothing like it, especially when you greet it with the fresh energy that comes only from a good night's rest, and spend it with Jesus.

Six Years into a Great Idea

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Somehow it got to be almost the end of December--two days before Christmas, no less--and I haven't been around these parts for a long time.  

Can I just say I'm a music teacher and so is my husband and one pre-Thanksgiving program and five Christmas programs and another Christmas play later I'm still thinking maybe one of these days I'll get out our own Christmas music to listen to some quiet evening?  Whew!  What a month!

But I can't let today go by without checking in here for two reasons:  One, I am low energy after donating a substantial amount of blood to the science of my own health care (don't worry about me--I'm on a great track right now to getting some things figured out, and I'm really excited about it), and therefore have a sweet excuse not to be up and around trying to accomplish my usual whirlwind of life I call my to-do list.

And two?

While I was sitting in the lab waiting, I realized that six eventful years ago today my husband and I had our very first date.

Have I told that story here before?  I don't think I have...maybe today should be the day.  So sit back and relax, because if there's something I'm not good at, it's making this love story of mine short.  Sweet, yes, but not short!

I had these classmates in my music classes in college.  Well, it started out that I just had one classmate, and he had a twin brother who was in a different sequence of music classes.  Of course it took me forever to figure out which was which, and so I simply never called them by their names, offering my cheerful nameless greetings whenever I saw whichever one.  

But since I had classes with one and not the other, AND the one in my class had a girlfriend, it got easier over that first year of college. 

These twin brothers had a reputation.  They were always singing, they were always having wholesome fun, and if either of them were in the cafeteria, theirs was the table with two or three times as many chairs crowded around it--all the fun people loved being around them, and they could never leave a person out.  The more the merrier.

And a couple of years into college the twins' younger brother arrived on campus full of just as much energy and fun as the other two.  He soon gained a reputation as well:  plastic-bag-and-straws bagpipe builder, four-person bike fabricator, the guy who dressed like Martin Luther for some Theology exam or another, the guy who dressed in a toga for his Greek final.

Somehow this younger brother and I ended up in basic conducting class together, and occasionally used our batons as swords against each other as we "studied" for our final conducting exam.  

And then one day in the spring I ran into said younger brother and a friend of his, and when I wanted to know what they were up to, I got the most exciting answer:  They were on their way to the pi contest (where you have to recite as many digits of pi as you can from memory to win a prize), where they were not only going to recite, but SING the digits of pi.

Something I had always wanted to do, as it turns out, and in a rare outburst of extroversion, I asked if I could join them.  I only knew about fifty digits, but we found a good place with a 5-8 sequence for a finishing point (don't worry if that's as clear as mud to you), I taught them how to sing in perfect parallel organum, and we were off to steal the show.  Which of course we did.

So.  If you've been following my potentially confusing story, you've figured out that I had become fairly well acquainted with two of the three brothers via taking the same classes, and knew the other one a bit more casually at a distance.

Over the course of time, the two brothers (one twin and the younger one) got married, and I got acquainted with their wives as well.  These two brothers also both did their pastoral internships at a little church I called my home church for five years or so.

Eventually, I graduated and stayed in town, these twin brothers graduated and moved out of town, and that's when younger brother began his internship at my little church.  And that's when his wife and I sat down one day after the service and the potluck and figured out we hit it off really well and in our several years of acquaintance just hadn't had a chance to discover each other yet.

I didn't know this until later, of course, but she got in the car afterwards and said, "I feel like we could be sisters!  WAIT!  We COULD be sisters!"

There was one un-married twin left, after all, and she figured she knew exactly who he needed to marry.

She didn't lose any time getting to work.  Her sister-in-law, who by then had moved away from our college town and was working in the same office as my parents, quickly agreed to the plan and began doing her research into my family, you know, to see if we were decent people or not.

Check.

The wives schemed with their husbands.  They thought it was a great idea.  (I still wonder sometimes if they ever have any second thoughts now that they know me better!)  They ran it all by the sets of parents--theirs and mine, too, I think.  Everybody seemed to think it was an idea worth pursuing a little further.

Like by informing one of the parties in question that an arranged marriage was in the works.

For whatever reason, they decided I should be the first (out of the last two, anyway) to know.

We girls were out dumpster diving the weekend of college graduation, because people used to leave great stuff out to be thrown away on graduation weekend, and we were looking for a sewing machine.  We didn't find one, but she used the time to her advantage.

"We've been talking," she said, "and we think you should be our next sister-in-law."

I had to work a little to get out of that awkward moment.  I thought maybe it was behind me when the other one stopped by my house to pick up something to send to my parents (with whom, you might recall, she worked every day).

She complimented my multi-colored dining room chairs, and by way of explanation, I said all my friends encouraged me to try out my crazy decorating scheme before I had a husband to tell me I couldn't.

"Marry a S---," she said, not missing a beat.  "They'd let you do it."

I looked at the floor, speechless.

"There's one left!" she said, as if her little reminder would remove my speechlessness and prompt me to pick up the phone and order a wedding cake.

I knew she was right, though.  I knew him well enough to know he would let me paint my chairs whatever color I wanted, and I knew there was indeed "one left".

They dropped it for a while, but it wasn't too long before the subject came up again and I had to choose, on the spot, whether it was ok for them to give this brother-in-law of hers my phone number.  She presented me with an impressive resume of charms, values, and character traits, and I relented.

But hesitatingly, because if we had known each other for so long already and no sparks had flown why would we think they would now?  

Still, I spent quite a bit of time mulling things over.  Did he have similar values?  Would he manage himself well among the variety of family and friends who made up my world?  Would I lose my friends (his sisters-in-law) if it didn't work out?

I talked it over with my mom.

"You don't have to know if you would marry him.  You just have to know if you would go to dinner.  If you'd go to dinner with him, don't worry about the rest."

I talked it over with my dad.

"Well," he said, "you do have a lot in common.  His brother treats his wife really well, and the apple doesn't usually fall too far from the tree."

And months went by.  I felt more confident that I would indeed go to dinner with him if he asked, but the phone call never came. 

Summer turned to fall, fall to winter.  Winter brought a tremendous snow storm, big enough for my parents to cancel Christmas and let me know they didn't think I should come to visit them until the New Year. 

Conveniently, a certain someone was in the next town over visiting his brother and sister-in-law, who immediately set about getting the two of us in the same room for a couple of hours.  Unbeknownst to me, they hadn't said a word to him about their plans for his future marriage (except a comment by his twin brother that went right over his head).  Unbeknownst to him, they were planning his life and finding his bride.

And you know what?  The snowstorm worked--God's way of getting everybody in the right place at the right time, you might say.

They unveiled the plan to my Mr. Right, who thought about it for several days before agreeing to go to dinner with me.  But that moment they had his approval?  They called me right away, set up a double date, and risked the snowy roads for the 45-minute drive to my office to pick me up and take me out to dinner little knowing from that moment forward they really would be stuck with me.

And a little double date in a little Thai restaurant became the launching pad for our "arranged marriage", as they like to call it, six years ago today.

Can't Fall Asleep? 5 Things You Can Do

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Over the last few months, I've had trouble sleeping sometimes.  It's a long story, and I'm still working on finding a solution for the benign heart rhythm issue that keeps me awake from time to time, but I'm beginning to realize that sleepless nights don't have to be wasted.

Normally, I'd spend the time on worry and frustration, or generally trying to solve the world's problems without success.

But thank God for being in the business of helping us form new habits, right?  Because now, rather than facing my bedtime with uncertainty, I'm learning to leave even the amount of sleep I get to Jesus.  (You saw that, right?  The word learning?)

Here are the five most helpful things I've found over the last few months to reduce my worries and fears, and to help me rest in mind and body.  I hope they help you, too.

Read

In particular, I've begun reading the Psalms when I can't sleep.  I read them on my phone, so that I don't have to get up, go in the other room, turn on lights, and therefore wake myself up even more than I already am.  And you know what? 

I've been amazed at how many of the Psalms have to do with sleep, or with resting in God alone.  I've actually chosen to highlight all these kinds of verses in purple (you know, a purple heart message from God when my heart isn't quite beating in its normal rhythm), and now if you were to open the Psalms on my phone you would see purple scattered through almost every chapter.

What a huge encouragement when you can't predict when sleep will finally take over and you'll drift off into dreamland!

Pray

Sometimes when I'm lying awake at night, it's my prime time to worry.  Since I'm lying in bed trying to sleep, there's nothing I can do about any of the things I'm worrying about, either.  

Prayer is a great way to turn our worries, one by one, over to Someone who can act on them, night or day.  Whether I'm worried about situations, people, natural disasters...you name it...Jesus is always there to listen and strengthen.

I've had many friends say that when they're awake at night, God will bring a specific person to mind to pray for.  If that doesn't happen, it never hurts to lift up family and friends one by one, committing them to the Lord's care.

Think Thankful Thoughts

Forcing myself to remember all the things God has been doing in my life puts my mind and body at rest like nothing else can.  The more I think of that I'm thankful for, the more thoughts of gratitude come to my mind.  

It's like one thankful prayer, however simple, plants the seed for another one, until I have a whole garden full of beautiful, restful thoughts.  

Seize the Day

Many times there are things we're doing during the day to contribute to our wakefulness at night.  Consistent problems falling asleep may be coming from our daytime habits, and it's always a good idea to evaluate where we are with our health practices by asking some simple questions. Our answers can tell us a lot--if we're honest!

Here are some things I'm trying to ask myself consistently.

Am I getting good nutrition, in proper amounts?  Am I avoiding things that aren't good for me (whether junk food or other even worse substances)?  Am I eating at ideal times of the day, or do my meals leave my stomach working too hard at night when it's time to sleep?

Am I exercising consistently?  Am I drinking enough water to stay hydrated?  Am I getting sunlight (to help with melatonin and vitamin D production)?  Am I breathing fresh air?


And of course when I look at rest, sleep is not the only thing to consider.  If I'm filling the day to the max (way too easy for me to do), and not giving myself margins and breathing room, it's no wonder that my mind would keep me awake at night.

Sometimes, though, there are things happening in our bodies and minds that need more evaluation.  If that's the case, we can use the daylight hours to keep moving forward, a step at a time, toward finding a solution to whatever might be ailing us. 

Trust in Jesus

Perhaps the most important thing we can do when we can't sleep is simply to trust in Jesus.  

Indeed, all our Psalm reading, praying, and thinking thankful thoughts are designed to re-establish and strengthen our trust in Him, and everything we do to seize the day will fall flat unless it's directed by our trust in Him.

Something I've done a few times recently, when I'm not sure how bedtime will go for me, is to just tell God, ahead of time, that I trust Him with my life and health.

Even if I end up awake longer than I'd like.
Even if there's no instant cure.

I'm simply inviting Him to be in charge of my health, my sleep, and my life in every way.  If that means I read a lot of Psalms one night, I know I'll be blessed.  If that means I go to sleep right away and enjoy the rest I'm hoping for, I know I'll be blessed by that, too.

Because either way, Jesus is still the One holding my breath in His nail-pierced hands, and I can't think of a better place for my life to be.