I Believe

Since we are in the Christmas season, it would make sense this title would refer to Santa Claus but that’s not who this is about. It’s about the baby we will be celebrating having been born to redeem us all. It’s about Jesus, His example, and why I follow Him.

C S Lewis wrote, “I believe in the sun not because I can see it, but by it, I can see everything else.” His statement also depicts how I believe God sent His Son, born to a young Virgin, to provide us an example of how to live. By having faith in not only the historical fact of Jesus but also having a relationship with Him, my life is much richer and more meaningful. I “see” differently now.

Try answering hard questions from a college student who is taking a World Religions course. This occurred a few years back when I was alone with my son while traveling. He wasn’t sure about his beliefs anymore since he’d recently discovered there were many options to religion and faith. He had read about sects of Judaism, Buddhism, Hindi and others. He kept grilling me on exactly why I chose to have faith in Jesus Christ over those. I prayed silently for the correct answer since I knew a lot was riding on my response. After being quiet a few minutes, I simply stated, “Because I like it and it works for me.” That might sound simplistic, but it was the right thing at the moment because had I chosen doctrine or beliefs, a major debate would have ensued.

I realize everyone does not believe what I do and that we all have free will. But I’ve found my identity, fulfillment, direction and solutions due to choosing Christianity. It has sustained me and provided for me long before I understood what “it” was. This is my center that helps me keep perspective and balance in life.

I’m grateful I have my faith as a constant refuge. As I’ve aged and had my faith tested, it’s only become stronger. I recall times of difficulty and fear that nothing short of a miracle was going to improve matters. God came through for me and guided me. He has never let me down. This has created a deep contentment that is otherwise known as peace. I cannot live without it now and wouldn’t try.

This Christmas I will be thinking about the reality of baby Jesus being sent by a Father who loved me enough to send Him for me (and all). Being omnipotent, God knew what mankind would eventually do to this precious gift. Yet, His journey, His life here, was worth it. The end of His life, which marked a new beginning for all, was worth it. God thinks and thought we all are worth it. I believe.

The Right Environment

I love the sight of a fully bloomed orchid. It’s luscious, thick, green leaves and it’s colorful blooms are awe inspiring. Usually it’s when I am at the florist or grocery store where I might find one in gorgeous bloom. Once purchased and placed in my home, however, this visual wanes over time. I’m typically left with an empty arm of a plant with no blooms and few, healthy leaves. The number of orchids I’ve doomed to a withered existence saddens me. Yet, recently, I think I figured something out about them and incidentally, myself.

When I first purchased this tropical plant, I inquired of its maintenance. “Only place two ice cubes per week at its base and forget it. Actually, ignore it. Then, it will thrive,” I was instructed. Once in Hawaii, I saw many natural orchids on the stalks of trees high on a mountain. Obviously, the heat and humidity made them thrive. But curiously, they weren’t planted in soil, they were just literally hanging out around the tree. Why did they thrive naturally there and shrivel in my care?

The environment of these beauties plays a critical role in their survival. Just for fun, I took four destitute, orchid remnants and placed them in my laundry room window. I did this to get them out of the way more than salvage them. I watered them for a few weeks (yep, I cheated and bypassed cubes for straight water). And here I must interject that I have NEVER had one of the numerous orchids I have owned rebloom. Once, as a personal challenge, my husband called his landscape architect friend for instructions how to get one to rebloom. He told him to repot them in new pots with bark only and give the requisite watering. And it worked! The tiny bloom was far from succulent but it came back. I’ve never claimed a green thumb but nevertheless, kept my old orchids just in case.

After a few weeks, my laundry room leftover plants sprouted bizarre shaped appendages rising out of the bases. Then one day, tiny nodules formed on a lone branch. My orchid was attempting to bloom again! Three survived and thrived and I now have two reblooming. I did not do research yet still am finding their resurgence daily.

I realized this orchid experiment mirrors my faith walk. I can keep bad habits or can be obedient and disciplined allowing myself to thrive. My faith will expand or wither and it’s up to me. The fruits (or flowers in this case) will come or not. I just have to put myself in the right environment.

COVID 2022 Confusion

After two years of miraculously dodging the Covid bullet, the dreaded virus permeated my defenses and struck without warning. I thought that because I was triple vaxxed, I was somehow safe. How I was wrong! I first noticed a cough, then headache, then the sneezing. And I am talking BIG sneezing- as if you might need to check the adjacent wall for a lung or something. In 24 hours, I was in bed for a full day. This experience has changed my mind and made me aware of some Covid realities.

For instance, how on earth could someone two weeks prior have looked at me and called Covid “just a hoax?” The first night of my hoax was terrible, the second bad, the third tolerable and the fourth is to be seen. I consider myself healthy and figured if I ever got it, I’d probably never know it. What has struck me is how some people show no symptoms at all and others get long haul symptoms. Nobody knows how their body will respond. I attest it is definitely not a hoax. My 32 gallon bag of used Kleenex is my proof.

Another bizarre finding is that two people can share a car ride for hours and one test positive and another negative. My husband, who until today tested negative, swears I gave it to him on purpose (he tested positive today but is asymptomatic). He says that by moving the paper towels to where he had to use my contaminated kitchen knobs and my touching our utensils, that I gave him “Paper towel, spoon Covid.” He’s home quarantining and always ready to laugh. I can laugh too but I’m lucky, because I’m going to get better.

I also learned that I should have been more vigilant in wearing my mask in public places; washing my hands; and keeping my distance from others by 6 feet. Somehow I just willed it to be over- but it isn’t over. I don’t know where or how I got it. That’s scary. Anyone can be a carrier, not know it, and spread it everywhere they go. That includes to someone’s immunocompromised family member or elderly parent. I’d hate to imagine my 84 year old Dad or my elderly friends with it as sick as I’ve been.

We have conflicting directives on how to navigate and respond to positive tests. But I’ve come to realize that recommendations are just that- recommendations. Each person is responsible for their own health but also others’ welfare! Once enough time has passed to understand what we should be doing, then it will have likely dissipated. We cannot wait. If you are positive for Covid and feel perfect, stay home! You could inflict it onto someone else who ends up in the hospital or if lucky like me, just checking the opposite wall for a lung.

Embrace Interruptions?

I’m a type A, goal-oriented person with a bit of OCD. I like things a certain way and completed when I want. This personality type is both a blessing and a curse. Life has helped me realize that my plans aren’t always best and interruptions can actually become meaningful interactions. I just have to be willing to let them.

I can remember when the phone would ring in the family kitchen and you actually had to stop what you were doing and go over to it and have a focused conversation because you could only move as far as the cord (a cord!) would allow. Now we expect to do multiple things while chatting if we actually speak to a person at all. “Chatting” now means something totally else. Regardless, a phone call can be an interruption or a pleasant interaction. It is my choice.

Going about my business, I can be annoyed or open to those in my path. I recognize it’s all up to me to embrace moments or hurry through them in my own, task-minded world. When I’ve made the slightest effort to be kind or helpful doing any minute act, I’ve found incredible, silent joy, however. Might be small or big, doesn’t matter.

I regret now times of being bothered with my childrens’ frequent interruptions. My ADHD brain would zoom ahead with unmet goals and I’d get tense all because I let myself. All I had to do was stop and embrace the moment. The lost moments’ potential will never be realized. I sometimes wonder what blessings I miss out on being too focused and busy now?

It doesn’t take a degree to understand and develop patience with interruptions, just mindful awareness. Of course, there are times when you cannot and should not stop, but I’m talking more about the mundane. If life is just a series of moments, I’m hopeful my fewer, future moments will be good ones.

Forget Happy

I’m done wanting to be happy. Happy is a momentary, fleeting emotion that betrays at its first chance. Shifting like sand and slippery like ice, it doesn’t last. It’s awfully nice to experience but that’s where it ends- as an experience. No, I don’t even try to be happy anymore. If it happens, GREAT. But that’s not my end destination anymore.

What I have found far more reliable is peace. Deep-seeded peace like a baby- soft, cashmere blanket cocooning my being is what I earnestly seek. The peace of knowing who I am, what I choose to do and why I choose to do it far surpasses any momentary happiness. I know where I am going and feel grounded in what I believe. I don’t need others to validate or understand it either.

This is the best I’ve found. It’s finally quiet in my soul. (And yep, I know we all have one.) It doesn’t require money, beauty, possessions or other people. MY CIRCUMSTANCES CAN EVEN STINK. I have FINALLY determined how to be. Be! Did you get that? BE. I don’t need to perform, be liked, be successful or beautiful. I don’t need to be financially rich to have peace. Happiness? You possibly need some or all those to experience happiness- not peace- it’s free.

Jesus said, “Peace I leave with you.” I think I finally understand that’s what He wanted me to seek. He didn’t leave me happiness- He left me PEACE. It is mine and I’ll take it.

The Living Tree

Japanese Magnolia

There is a small tree in my yard that has been my favorite for years. Each season I anticipate the magenta hues and fiery red leaves that spring forth from what looks like driftwood of a tree. From the drab grey, and lifeless comes a colorful explosion of life. The irony is not lost on me. For years this tree has brought me joy. I lacked words exactly why until recently.

As I shared previously, our property (along with thousands of others) was laid waste by a hurricane. We still have not completed necessary clearing. It is a monumental task dealing with hundred year old fallen trees and towering, aged shrubbery. One has to have patience recovering from storms (pun intended) and this person struggles with that.

The morning after the hurricane, the carnage was astounding. Many gigantic trees (some 90 feet tall) were snapped in half or either uprooted with their gnarly appendages pointing out of the earth. How could the invisible have the strength to uproot towering trees and pummel down fences yet not completely destroy everything? My home was miraculously spared and we suffered only minor damage. The major damage was the yard and it made me gasp. Nature’s storms can be terrifying.

My driveway post hurricane

The morning after the storm, I saw my precious little tree nearly leveled by another that was five times wider and taller. It seemed like a metaphor for the hurricane itself. Half its root system was splayed in the air and I groaned at the sight of it. It reflected how I felt inside.

My tree after storm

In hope of salvaging our favorite tree, my husband and son used chainsaws to free it from under the other’s pressing weight. It remained almost on the ground but not completely knocked down. (More irony?) When we hired tree fellers to clear some of the unmanageable trees, they used a skidsteer to push the little tree back upright (sort of). We knew this was a futile attempt but had minuscule hope, nonetheless. With its shocked root system, we recognized it probably wouldn’t survive.

Months passed and the little, leaning tree was dormant. Was it dead? It was winter and everything was lifeless anyway. I tried to lower my expectations (of its survival amongst other things). In a few months, yellow-hued dust settled on my porch and carpenter bees started hovering about- signs of spring. Was life being breathed back into my bleak surroundings?

A few weeks later we noticed tiny buds, then full leaves. Life wasn’t over for our tilted Japanese Maple after all. Eventually, the entire tree was bathed in deep ruby and green. Against all odds, the tree survived and it’s beauty framed by my kitchen doors again. It was leaning, but it survived!

This little tree has paralleled my life. Difficult storms have come and gone. I have even been beaten down to the ground before, but my hope has remained. Skidsteers have been others who have pushed me back up and encouraged me onward. Sometimes things seemed dark and dreary but beauty and joy were to be had again. My beautiful, little tree just happened to define all that perfectly.

Spring 2021


My spiritual devotionals have a recurrent theme lately. I read several different ones throughout the day and when the same message comes from different sources, I believe it’s the “Big Man” speaking.

“Fear not, for I have overcome the world,” Jesus says in John 16:33. I find tremendous relief in this verse. I don’t think I want to hear the words “Covid” or “Impeachment” anymore. It seems I cannot escape either topic for more than a few minutes. My husband and I were having lunch yesterday and I told him to please stop talking about the virus because I couldn’t bare one more minute thinking about it.

Having an insurrection prior to an inauguration with polarization causes agitation. Everyone seems to have a strong opinion and are convinced THEY ARE RIGHT! I read some comments on Facebook that make me nervous. That is why the verse above is such a comfort to me. If each person were 100% correct, we’d need to all live on different planets as we could not possibly coexist. So what do we do? How will we get through January 20th?

A heated political climate is not new. This has and will happen again. I’m just not sure how all this is going to turn out. When I allow my mind free reign, it tends to create scenarios so preposterous I have to reel it back in with truth like John 16:33. Jesus already overcame the world. The victory is complete. So what else is there to fear? The old adage is fear itself.


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My sister reminded me of this embarassing incident yesterday. She says it’s one of her favorite triplet stories. It’s one of those recollections you wait several years to find humorous. Since almost a decade has passed, I suppose the statute of limitations has run out. I was MORTIFIED when it occured and projected the delinquency of my brood into adulthood. I saw them ruining their lives before they even began.

It started as a nice, peaceful evening at home. My husband took our 8th grade sons and a few friends swimming at the pool. He was being selfless to go with them, I thought. He took a book and planned to perch poolside and read while chaperoning. The pool would not allow those under 16 unattended. Unbeknownst to him, the group left the pool area and hit the nearby beach merely yards away. This is when the situation began to rapidly deteriorate.

There were rocks projecting into the bay and those were not to be climbed. That was a posted rule. Apparently, my sons saw others do it and decided they wanted to also. As usual, they got security’s attention. Security came over and asked them to get off the rocks. Several did, but one son, with some nearby fishermen egging him on, ended up the star of the show. He wasn’t even on any rocks but was IN THE WATER. He decided to act the fool and put a bucket on his head and play dumb. The security guard was not humored and must have felt disrespected. The only thing I can think is that my “water criminal” must have been performing for his audience. He wasn’t violating anything, just being annoying. The security guard decided to make him get out of the water so nearby fishermen threw my son the line, “These are international waters, he cannot make you get out.” So my brilliant son told the security guard he could not make him get out since he was “in international waters!” This was when the security guard called the local police.

My husband, still blissfully unaware, was reclining and reading close by without his cell phone. He had no clue that our shirtless, shoeless sons were slammed to the sand, cuffed, and shoved in a patrol car and “taken downtown.” Two of the group quietly made their unobserved exit away from the crime scene. And that was how only three culprits were detained. The police had no idea who did what. They just knew some people were disturbing the peace of this nice establishment. The security guard was no where to be found and neither was my husband, their dutiful chaperone.

I got the dreaded phone call from the police station. This set off panic swirling through my head, “What happened? Who’s hurt? WHAT DID THEY DO?” I frantically tried calling my husband but couldn’t reach him. The boys said I needed to come right away so I arrived eyeing three, barefoot, bathing suit- clad boys surrounding an officer’s cubicle. Feeling a mix of shock, embarassment, anger and bewilderment, I inquired what happened and the officer stated he got a call that “someone was possibly inebriated and disrupting the area.” He then took a solemn tone and told them he would be looking for them to mess up again. What I think thawed his tone was MY come apart. My intense, domineering, mega-mom freak came out. By the time I finished, he commented, “I see you will handle this.” No charges were brought, no recording of the crime, no delinquency was registered that day. The mom of their friend, however, stopped being mine.

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What A Difference A Year Makes

A year ago we were celebrating Christmas in a foreign country. We were all well and didn’t think twice about air travel. I would have laughed at the thought of wearing a mask in public. I knew who my president was. I had reliable income from work. Protesting? What protesting? California and Colorado weren’t on fire. How on earth could things unravel so quickly (and at SO many seams!)?

In February, news of the novel virus was just appearing. My life long friends and I had a previously planned trip to New York City. They debated wearing masks on the plane. I told them I wouldn’t sit with them if they wore them. We visited Chinatown and went to many popular tourist sites. We went to plays on Broadway. Everything was bustling and busy and no one talked of Covid. We never discussed the election or politics at all for that matter. We went OUT. TO. EAT (deep sigh). That trip was absolutely amazing. It became even more amazing in the coming months.

My daughter came home early from her Fulbright Scholarship due to being sent home by the government. She ended up living with us many months before relocating cross country. She took a job in a city that was literally on fire (for months). Working remotely, she was at least safe physically but not from poor air quality. I couldn’t believe she actually got a job during lockdown- fortunate for sure.

Speaking of lockdown, I had never heard of one before unless it involved a school. Nor did I believe any entity would enforce something that bizarre. But, yes, they and we did. For a llllllllooooooonnnnnngggggg time. I couldn’t believe how much cleaning and organizing I did. Who would have dreamed our stores would run out of TOILET PAPER and PAPER TOWELS? I could have understood wine and beer but paper products became like gold. You got a full pack? You just won the lottery.

The hurricane season was beyond comprehension. There were more named storms than ever before. I never knew Greek alphabet could be used as names of storms. Iota, really?

A presidential election for the ages occurred just in time to top off the weirdest year ever. We haven’t fully decided who won and it’s been 5 weeks. Bizarrest of bizarre. The world has never before felt so small and I have been considering if this was the end? This year certainly has felt like AN end if not THE end. An end of life as we knew it.

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The Great Invitation

My sister was headed to the local drug store and asked her adolescent what she needed. Her daughter flatly lamented, “Pick me up a case of disappointment and a box of despair.” How many identify with that feeling right now, I wonder? 2020 has been a year of reckoning, discomfort and loss for many. I’m trying to sort out my response and understanding of it all. It’s natural to want to understand but I’m realizing maybe that’s not the point?

I was at work today when a customer called crying. She had a destroyed yard and a totaled vehicle- all related to Hurricane Sally. She also was at the doctor’s office and had just been diagnosed with Strep. She said, “ I just can’t catch a break.” I felt terrible for her as I have had those exact feelings before myself. My circumstances may have been different but I knew too well the panic she felt. That understanding aided me in calming her. I could tell she got a modicum of relief from my validation alone.

I was chatting with my senior friend also today and she said, “One doesn’t know what the next day will bring.” She was referring to the health state of someone in their 80’s and 90’s. We had a mutual friend who moved to assisted living and were saying how she seemed fine recently. That made me realize also the same with everything now- ONE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT TOMORROW MAY BRING.

My husband and I were driving tonight and he said, “No one is guaranteed tomorrow. We need to be making healthy decisions for other reasons than just Covid. Sure we could die of it but we are more likely to die of a car crash or heart attack.” That brings me back to the minutiae of our daily decisions. Am I operating out of fear? Am I recognizing this moment I am here as a gift and maximizing it? Am I being a good coworker, parent, spouse, daughter, friend?

I admit I am not at all afraid of dying. Am I chasing it? No, definitely not- I feel owed the chance to meet my grandchildren. I plan to spoil, love and cherish each second I’m blessed with them. (I was an uptight, perfectionist mother and I WILL balance that with my plans to be super chill grandma.) I want to celebrate life and the years I have left. Why live terrified? Doesn’t make sense to me. And thinking I know the answers to everything also seems limiting. What I want to convey is that all that is forcing us out of our comfort zones in 2020 might be beneficial? 2020 could be “The Great Invitation” to get out of our ruts and make changes for the better.

Is there someone you need to reach out to? Are you happy at work or just getting through each day? Are you taking care of yourself? Do you need to improve your health/attitude/relationships? Is there a relationship you need to end? Are you living within your means? Now is the time to make meaningful changes. I don’t believe we will get back to “normal.” Normal is a setting on a dryer. We choose our values by how we live. Hopefully our living will reflect we’ve accepted the invitation to do better.