When the slide was too high, Travis backed down the ladder emphatically stating,"Ah-caint-Ah-caint".
When one of his brothers reached for Travis' favorite Spider Man toy, Travis quickly thrust his toy behind his back while telling his brother,"Ah-caint-Ah-caint."
Soon the adults were caught saying "Ah-caint.-Ah-caint" especially when presented with risk in telling a friend the truth, or when the dinner dishes needed to be cleaned up.
The other day at the park with the boys, Travis and his two brothers were at the top of the tallest slide. Three-year-old Ryan blasted down. Then Travis' twin, Carson, gleefully let his hands go and smiled all the way down. Travis watched them with a smirk on his face. The sounds of a low-flying helicopter cut through the moment. Travis looked up and pointed, "Ah-see-it". Then Travis plopped onto the slide and down he sailed.
Little grandsons often have that smirky way of reminding grandparents how to view life. "Ah-caint" can simply become "Ah-see-it" given the wonder of noticing a helicopter through the treetops.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
What I've learned from softball
Hey, our softball team is in the championship playoffs. But I think this has more to do with attitude than with skill. I've been on the receiving side of many a high five from the heavy-hitting males. These guys would always--even when one of us women would strike out, or hit the ball that prevented a previous hitter from advancing--offer an enthusiastic "Great swing," or "Nice cut." I don't really know what a nice cut is, but I know that they never allowed me to feel like a weak link. In fact, their encouraging attitude inspired me to try harder next time.
Guess I'm rethinking the familiar form of encouragement, i.e. a helpful hint, a constructive pointer, or cautionary advice. I'm looking forward to initiating more high-fives and "nice cut's". Wonder if I had played basketball...I'm not going to swat someone's behind.
Guess I'm rethinking the familiar form of encouragement, i.e. a helpful hint, a constructive pointer, or cautionary advice. I'm looking forward to initiating more high-fives and "nice cut's". Wonder if I had played basketball...I'm not going to swat someone's behind.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Grammie's refrigerator
Yesterday we arrived at Grammie's house with lots of food in preparation for 3 different events happening this coming weekend. Friends from Canada are in town; we'll be boating to Emerald Bay and enjoying a picnic lunch together. Then our life group is coming for a beach party on Saturday. And finally some Arizona friends are joining us on Sunday for sailing and then dinner on the deck overlooking the lake.
It is not uncommon for us to unload coolers of food into Grammie's refrigerator. We have often brought up either dinner ingredients, pre-assembled dinners or simply beach snack foods. The challenge was always adding more food to a refrigerator already filled with soy milk (who really enjoys that stuff on cereal anyway?), bottles of greenish potions to revitalize health, the most recent veggie shipment from the organic farm co-op, lefovers from a previous dinner out, jars and bottles of duplicate condiments from previous parties, and other forgotten containers now growing fuzzies like science experiments.
We opened the refrigerator prepared to rearrange, restack, toss out and cram more in. This time, however...the refrigerator was empty.
Our sunset arrival to Grammie's darkened house captured a glistening lake view from the front door. There was a moment of satisfaction from cleaned carpets, sucked-away cobwebs and the new furniture placement. Over the past few weeks, these work projects had occupied our recent visits to Grammie's house. This particular visit was not to be about cleaning projects, but enjoying company. It was not uncommon for Grammie to welcome us at the front door pleased to see us again and to hear of another party planned for her to join. But she wasn't on the other side of the front door. She wasn't in her favorite chair watching her latest Netflix movie. She wasn't emailing at her computer acknowledging pictures and notes received from grandkids or friends. She wasn't in the lake taking her last dip on a hot summer's day.
Jim and I quietly unloaded our festive, party stuff into the clean, empty refrigerator. Later, we sat alone on the newly-swept deck overlooking the lake eating an Asian salad...that Grammie would have loved. There was her empty chair next to us.
Vacuuming cobwebs that Grammie could no longer reach, or cleaning the carpets from hundreds of sandy feet from summer beach visitors, or replacing the laugh-provoking pink garage sale light suspended over the dining table, or dumping jars of olives with 2007 expiration dates had kept our heads and hands occupied for a time. But hearts that hold Grammie memories can not be swept clean, updated, nor purged like a house or refrigerator.
A spankin-clean house and roomy refrigerator...not top priorities for Grammie. I hope one day I can no longer see cobwebs or expiration dates or laughable light fixtures. Thank you, Grammie, for helping us see only the important things in life.
It is not uncommon for us to unload coolers of food into Grammie's refrigerator. We have often brought up either dinner ingredients, pre-assembled dinners or simply beach snack foods. The challenge was always adding more food to a refrigerator already filled with soy milk (who really enjoys that stuff on cereal anyway?), bottles of greenish potions to revitalize health, the most recent veggie shipment from the organic farm co-op, lefovers from a previous dinner out, jars and bottles of duplicate condiments from previous parties, and other forgotten containers now growing fuzzies like science experiments.
We opened the refrigerator prepared to rearrange, restack, toss out and cram more in. This time, however...the refrigerator was empty.
Our sunset arrival to Grammie's darkened house captured a glistening lake view from the front door. There was a moment of satisfaction from cleaned carpets, sucked-away cobwebs and the new furniture placement. Over the past few weeks, these work projects had occupied our recent visits to Grammie's house. This particular visit was not to be about cleaning projects, but enjoying company. It was not uncommon for Grammie to welcome us at the front door pleased to see us again and to hear of another party planned for her to join. But she wasn't on the other side of the front door. She wasn't in her favorite chair watching her latest Netflix movie. She wasn't emailing at her computer acknowledging pictures and notes received from grandkids or friends. She wasn't in the lake taking her last dip on a hot summer's day.
Jim and I quietly unloaded our festive, party stuff into the clean, empty refrigerator. Later, we sat alone on the newly-swept deck overlooking the lake eating an Asian salad...that Grammie would have loved. There was her empty chair next to us.
Vacuuming cobwebs that Grammie could no longer reach, or cleaning the carpets from hundreds of sandy feet from summer beach visitors, or replacing the laugh-provoking pink garage sale light suspended over the dining table, or dumping jars of olives with 2007 expiration dates had kept our heads and hands occupied for a time. But hearts that hold Grammie memories can not be swept clean, updated, nor purged like a house or refrigerator.
A spankin-clean house and roomy refrigerator...not top priorities for Grammie. I hope one day I can no longer see cobwebs or expiration dates or laughable light fixtures. Thank you, Grammie, for helping us see only the important things in life.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
A new perspective
Sometimes there are things I read that can feel like the words jump off the page and smack me in the face. That happened this morning when I was reading this article online. "This sounds just like God - creative, generous and strategic." Wow...what a BIG and benevolent description of God. I think my own opinion of God would be quite a bit more reserved...and limiting. I don't want to miss out on noticing or experiencing God's creativity, generosity, nor His strategy at work. Now that I've been smacked in the face, my eyes are open.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
At my age?
I wasn't going to sign up again this year for the church softball team. I knew I would be the oldest player. But then my daughter thought that she might join. Austen doesn't play softball, she plays soccer. I had no problem signing up as soon as I knew that Austen was interested. Duh, what mother in her non-menopausal moments would miss an opportunity to share some silly times with her 17-year-old daughter. And it has been silly...like the ONE time I caught a fly ball in the outfield for the third out. Austen scooped me up onto her back for our victory return to the dugout. She leaned forward and we kept going faster and faster. Austen's legs gave out under my extra weight and we both plunged forward onto the ground. What I remember most--after the laughing stopped--is her helping me up and asking if I was hurt. Tender mixed with silly. I would sign up for that any day.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Beyond the Pits
A blog sounded like intriguing and motivating technology to document my thoughts. But after a couple of blog entries, something happened. I was tapping away on my keyboard when I heard it...a quick, sharp ping, like a little rock smacking a windshield. Who did that...which vehicle zinged a rock from its tire at me? Was it the big Bravada with the neon sign on the driver's door blinking: You can only blog if you have something brilliant to say. Or maybe it was that annoying little Cavalier whose rear window read: Who cares what you blog anyway? Or what about that old junker Gremlin who disappeared in an exhaust cloud sputtering: And you thought you could write. All I knew for sure was that this fresh pit in my blogging windshield meant a crack would soon appear.
And each time I sat down to blog, I noticed the humongous chip mark left from one of those fleeing vehicles. The Bravada, the Cavalier, the Gremlin...I suspected each one at different times. And I kept watch on the almost imperceptible imperfection—awaiting the crack to appear--instead of writing.
Well, it has been months now, and guess what...no crack. Time to get behind the wheel again. So what...I took a hit. It’s only a little chip spot.
What was that? Another ping??? Must have been that bright red Diablo whipping past. Not this time buddy...I can still see the road ahead. The windows are down and I’m feelin the wind.
And each time I sat down to blog, I noticed the humongous chip mark left from one of those fleeing vehicles. The Bravada, the Cavalier, the Gremlin...I suspected each one at different times. And I kept watch on the almost imperceptible imperfection—awaiting the crack to appear--instead of writing.
Well, it has been months now, and guess what...no crack. Time to get behind the wheel again. So what...I took a hit. It’s only a little chip spot.
What was that? Another ping??? Must have been that bright red Diablo whipping past. Not this time buddy...I can still see the road ahead. The windows are down and I’m feelin the wind.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
a Life-altering Release
In my head, I have created lots of conversations with you over the last several weeks. However, I noticed a big gap since I last blogged in. Obviously, i have not found my blog groove yet.
My own word for the year, release, seems to keep popping up...when I take the time to notice. Never...ever...in my most uninhibited dreams would I have thought I'd be sharing this newest release with all of you. With grace and discretion, you may check out the video titled, Cardboard Testimonies, at http://vimeo.com/channels/hcmedia
And how about your word...how is it showing up lately?
A few more people shared their word for the year with me and gave me permission to share with you as well...
Connection...bonds that endure based upon shared values. Relationships based upon the intrinsic worth of people. When I think about the relationship that I have with my wife, I usually think about it in terms of being connected. When we’re struggling along, we don’t seem to be connecting. As to my job, I’m responsible for the team that develops relationships with those that account for almost one-half of the income we receive each year. We are always aiming to create more engaged ministry friends. This, of course, means connection. Finally, how connected am I with God? Am I in genuine fellowship with Him during the moments of the day? Shawn
My word for this year is quiet. I want to be quiet to hear God speak to me through His Word, through my quiet times in prayer, through Sunday's teachings, through others intimately involved with God, and through situations and circumstances God places me in. Thanks for asking! Debbie
At first I thought: Where am I coming from in my life? I’m not used to thinking about me like this; I am usually looking ahead. After much thought, only one word fits...LOVE. To really love as Christ loves, to see needs in other people where I can show love and be faithful to do it. It is more than praying or thinking about them but loving them through my actions. My word is also about being sensitive to love others...including my husband in this way.
Thanks for caring. Joyce
My own word for the year, release, seems to keep popping up...when I take the time to notice. Never...ever...in my most uninhibited dreams would I have thought I'd be sharing this newest release with all of you. With grace and discretion, you may check out the video titled, Cardboard Testimonies, at http://vimeo.com/channels/hcmedia
And how about your word...how is it showing up lately?
A few more people shared their word for the year with me and gave me permission to share with you as well...
Connection...bonds that endure based upon shared values. Relationships based upon the intrinsic worth of people. When I think about the relationship that I have with my wife, I usually think about it in terms of being connected. When we’re struggling along, we don’t seem to be connecting. As to my job, I’m responsible for the team that develops relationships with those that account for almost one-half of the income we receive each year. We are always aiming to create more engaged ministry friends. This, of course, means connection. Finally, how connected am I with God? Am I in genuine fellowship with Him during the moments of the day? Shawn
My word for this year is quiet. I want to be quiet to hear God speak to me through His Word, through my quiet times in prayer, through Sunday's teachings, through others intimately involved with God, and through situations and circumstances God places me in. Thanks for asking! Debbie
At first I thought: Where am I coming from in my life? I’m not used to thinking about me like this; I am usually looking ahead. After much thought, only one word fits...LOVE. To really love as Christ loves, to see needs in other people where I can show love and be faithful to do it. It is more than praying or thinking about them but loving them through my actions. My word is also about being sensitive to love others...including my husband in this way.
Thanks for caring. Joyce
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