December wisdom

There’s a lot of wisdom floating around this time of year…I can find advice on how to create a magical Christmas, or how to experience a calm and serene holiday. There are tips for frugal giving and creative giving. There are recipes everywhere. I read how to make peace with your family, or how to find peace in spite of your family. We can all get along, or agree to disagree and not stress…whatever your point of view, there’s an article, or a blog post, or even a book, to support it.

I confess, there are times when almost all of these opinions fit my mood. I have my moments. Who wouldn’t want to create the perfect Christmas scene? Or the memorable family moment? And yet, I also want the quiet, the calm, the focus, of saying “Enough!” I don’t want to be all about the externals and neglect the important. I want to be generous, and yet not foolish…I want to do for others, but I don’t want to be undone by my efforts to do it all, have it all, be all.

So, in the spirit of seeking balance and vision during this month of magic, which is also a month of stress, consider these pearls:

Stop the glorification of busy.

Think the best of each other, especially of those you say you love. Assume the good, and doubt the bad. ~ Jeffrey R. Holland

words-heal

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Practice the pause. When in doubt, pause. When angry, pause. When tired, pause. When stressed, pause. And whenever you pause, pray!

“Talking about our problems is our greatest addiction. Break the habit. Talk about your joys.” ~ Rita Schiano

 

16114511136651896_0dEHClKW_b

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Grace isn’t a little prayer you say before receiving a meal. It’s a way to live.”

“I will hold myself to a standard of grace, not perfection.”

44473115039777651_jfdFHF3r_c

Countdown to wonder

Thanksgiving is done, and December is around the corner. In “normal” years, I’d be thinking Christmas. Gifts, cards, food, decorating, tree, travel…all the trimmings. This year I’m thinking baby. Little Jack is just a few weeks out, and I’m ramping up to get work projects done and make sure the home fires stay burning while I’m on baby duty. Not that I mind. It’s a treat to look forward to, and whether I’m caring for little Riley, precocious two-year-old, or snuggling newborn Jack, I’m excited to experience the miracle of life again, courtesy of Stephanie.

Riley was five weeks early. Jack may stay tucked until his due date, mid-January. But if he’s an early bird too, Christmas could bring a little extra excitement this year. Of course healthy is the goal, and no one is rushing him. But the clock is definitely ticking. Good thing Seattle is only a short flight away!

Being with Riley this last week reminded me again that children are vessels of wonder. They’re work, and expense, and a never-ending draw on energy. But beyond the effort, there’s effortless charm. She turns it on, and I’m hooked…this little girl melts my heart, and she isn’t even trying.

I thought I was having a great time with one little one. Now, for a few brief months, I’ll have the best of both worlds when we visit: a cuddly baby, and a busy little girl who is a sponge, picking up language and making it her own. She’s a funny little commenter on her world, and you never quite know how she’s going to interpret the moment.

This year, I’m streamlining tradition. There’ll be other years for decking the halls, and rolling out the red carpet. This year, I’m just packing a bag and getting prepared. When babies come, you go. Thankfully there are many helping hands, so I’ll wait here until I get the call. Then, whatever the date, my Christmas present will be here, right on time…Jack time.

                                  Riley and Jack

Thanksgiving came early

Alex got a job. A real job. Nothing glamorous, but it is a job with benefits and it will sustain him with a steady income as he sorts out plans for his future. Reassuring when the job statistic I heard this week is that the average search takes nine months. He’s been determined, and driven, and yes, even desperate; but also fortunate. And I’m thankful that he’ll have some direction as he makes a fresh start.

Thanksgiving is coming quickly, and Alex was supposed to come up for the week. But now he won’t…not good timing since he just began the new position last Monday. I’ll miss him. But I’ll still have a grateful heart that he’s well, and he’s back in the home of his heart, the Colorado mountains.

Thanksgiving is a holiday, but it’s also a season of the spirit. I like to think I’m always grateful, that I carry that around in my heart. But there are some things that bring an extra measure of gratitude, and this is one of those times. To hear, after weeks of phone calls, listening to the mix of hope and anxiety, the litany of possibilities for work…to hear the excitement in his voice again…that’s something special.

This has been a challenging year for both my kids. Some things have gone well, but not everything. And that’s life. No one gets everything they want. But thank God, my kids have what they need. And as their mom, that makes this Thanksgiving more than just a holiday. I don’t even need the pumpkin pie to celebrate….just the words on the other end of the line…”Hi mom!” And the tone in the voice.

The unthankful heart… discovers no mercies; but let the thankful heart sweep through the day and, as the magnet finds the iron, so it will find, in every hour, some heavenly blessings!  ~Henry Ward Beecher

I love Election Day!

I live in Alaska, and because I haven’t had TV for the past year, and because Alaska is not a battleground state, I’ve not been barraged with political ads. We recently buckled and installed satellite tv, so we’re once again plugged in (as much as we choose to be) to current social culture, as offered by the plethora of available channels. Mostly, we don’t watch, or we watch movies. I still prefer to get my news from internet sites. The beauty of internet is that I can read in-depth pieces on the topics I find interesting, rather than depending on headlines that feed on drama. And I avoid the really depressing flow of celebrity-itis.

But I’ll be tuned in tonight as polls begin to close. I can’t resist the front row seating to our national story as we add the next chapter, written by everyone who is eligible, and cares enough to vote. As citizens, we get to write the first line of the chapter. Where it goes after today will depend on the outcome of our choices: whom we select as the winner, and the many twists and turns that will occur in the coming four years.

Of course I have a preference. But beyond my personal point of view, beyond my personal voice in the election, I desperately hope that those who take opinion and passion to vicious levels, to hateful personal attacks, threats and lies, will stop. I hope that win or lose, we all step back and recognize that no good can come of gridlock, and demonizing those with whom we disagree. I’m appalled and saddened by some of the extremes I’ve heard of in this election cycle. And I think we, the voting citizens of this country, should commit, regardless of party affiliation, to throwing out elected officials who demonstrate that they are not capable of working with those in opposition parties. We do not have the luxury of sitting on our hands in this economy, and with the political issues which are swirling throughout the world. If someone is elected to make a difference, and spends their time in office refusing to reach across the aisle, then we should help them to exit, and move on to someone who will reach out.

On national election days, you get a real sense of national community. Not national unity, certainly not that! As a country, at least according to polls, we’re pretty evenly divided. But we’re still all part of one big community. And there’s something heartening about a group leap across the line of decision. I get an image of everyone joining hands and stepping across a chasm. We hold hands, even if there are some of us that would prefer not to have to reach out. The system forces a a level of cooperation to accomplish the task of choosing.

Tonight, after I’ve voted, I’ll sit up, watching the results, listening to the projections, and drinking it all in. Some years have been more fun than others, and this evening will likely be a late one. But this is one drama I enjoy, all the more exciting because I have a stake in the outcome.

So here’s to politics, to exercising our right to vote and to speak. And here’s hoping that however things turn out, at the end of the day, we’ll be big enough to accept, to move forward and play nice. May the voting be fair, and fairly counted. May we be good citizens, regardless of party affiliation. May we do our part to maintain our national freedoms. And God bless us, every one. God bless America!

“Arise and take our stand for freedom as in the olden time.”            ~ Winston Churchill

Pumpkin Soup and other goodness

Rain and cold greet me as I start the day. Fresh coffee, and the scent of the pellet stove burning, sending out warmth and wood smell, lure me down the stairs to begin. I make breakfast, hot, hearty and healthy, to push us through to lunch. Lunch, salad, light and crunchy bites, fuel until dinner. And then, on this chilly fall Friday, a big bowl of soup and crusty bread for end of day. The soup simmers on the stove already, not because it has to, but because I want it to. Seeing the pot on the burner, giving an occasional stir as I wander through the kitchen, taking a break from my work-at-home office, I feel the comfort of tradition, the ritual of minding, tasting; and the anticipation of home cooked goodness to tuck us in to the dark of early evening. We’ll light candles, play soft music, and get cozy with bread baked this afternoon and soup for the season.

If you’re looking for homemade easy, this is a good place to begin.

                                          November gold

Pumpkin Soup

1/4 cup (4T) butter
1 large onion, finely diced
1 stalk of celery, finely diced
1 can (1 lb) of pumpkin (NOT get pumpkin pie filling)
3 cans (14.5 oz) chicken broth
1/2 tsp. curry powder
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp ginger
1 bay leaf
1 tsp salt
1 cup light cream or half-and-half
Melt butter in saucepan.
Add onion & celery.  Saute’ until tender.
Stir in pumpkin, broth & seasonings (adjust seasonings to taste if you like more spice).
Bring to a boil stirring constantly.
Reduce heat and simmer uncovered 15 minutes.
Remove bay leaf.
Add cream or half-and-half.
Stir just until thoroughly heated, but not boiling.
Add chives (fresh) for garnish.
Serves four generously.

                                 Sweet Wheat bread dough

Sweet Wheat Bread

3 packets dry yeast
1 1/2 cups warm water, divided
1 tablespoon sugar
1/2 cup dark molasses
1 tablespoon salt
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 cups whole wheat flour
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp of caramel coloring, optional

Dissolve yeast in 1/2 cup warm water then stir in sugar. Let stand until bubbly.
Combine dissolved yeast, remaining water, molasses, salt, oil, whole wheat flour, all-purpose flour and caramel coloring in a large mixing bowl. Beat, using a dough hook until smooth. 
Knead dough for 5 minutes. Place in a large bowl then cover with a damp cloth. Let rise in a warm place until doubled in size. 
Punch dough down and divide in 2 large round loaves and place on a greased and cornmeal dusted cookie sheet. Cover with a damp cloth and allow to rise in a warm place until doubled in size.
Remove cloth and bake in a 375 degree F. oven for 30 minutes or until crust makes a hollow sound when tapped.
(The caramel coloring will not affect taste, just the color of the bread. You can order this ingredient from King Arthur Flour.)

                                                Ready for dinner!

Fall sunshine

This was our forecast, here in SE Alaska, earlier this week. This would only be remarkable to folks who know this climate. October is statistically the rainiest month in the year. We’ve had more days like this in October than we had in the summer! As it turned out, Thursday was sunny and beautiful. But now, Friday looks like a different story than this forecast predicted.

                                             Is this October?

                                      Sunset on Halloween

Today I flew over to Metlakatla to work.

                                        Airport in Metlakatla

This was my view on the flight back.

                                  View from the floatplane

Well, I think our luck is changing…looks like a little rain in the forecast…

                                            Back to normal!

Service

You want happiness, we all do. And there’s only one rule for happiness in this world, Sue, and that’s service. Just to the degree that they serve, people are happy, and no more. It’s an infallible test. You can try nations by it, you can try kings and beggars. Poor people are just as unhappy as rich people, when they’re idle; and rich people are really happy only when they’re serving somebody or something.

Norris, Kathleen. Saturday’s Child Artemis Publishing. Kindle Edition.

I found this little quote in a quaint old book…a lot of things contribute to my happiness, and I would put faith and family at the top of my list. I separate those two from the concept of service. But maybe that’s not accurate either, for what does faith and family call us to, if not service? Maybe the best things in life are simply disguises for opportunities that allow us to serve. We serve from various motives…family love, or faith that moves mountains, or belief in a cause, or ambition to achieve. But doesn’t the work we do distill to service?

I’ve equated the terms service and work. But they’re not really equivalent. I suppose you could serve without working, and work without truly serving. Maybe the difference in the two is the sense of purpose that lies behind service. Work is just work. But service is work defined by deliberate intention.

I think I’ve worked enough in my life. I’m going to look through a different lens, think about how I’m able to serve as I move through my days. That’s not intended to make me sound saintly, just purposeful. Maybe what I adjust is not specific action or work. Maybe I adjust my vision to see what I can contribute, and what I am contributing. Maybe I just need to reframe to see clearly.

I am learning

I am learning to accept the feeling of unease that frequently settles in the pit of my stomach. I am learning to live with uncertainty, with fears, with doubt. I am learning this because in the last few years I’ve experienced:

~ living far, far from family

~ my son’s deployment to Iraq

~ my daughter’s miscarriage of her first pregnancy

~ my father’s battle, and loss, to cancer

~ the death of my grandmother

~ family torn by divorce

~ stress, stress, more stress

~ distress in my marriage

~ uncertainty about work and income

~ a house for sell that didn’t sell

~ the struggles of my adult children with jobs and life decisions

and life continues. This is my list since 2006. I’ve counted other losses and difficulties before. These are the major markers since we moved to Alaska.

And what do I say? What do I do? What can I do? I pray. I feed myself the sustaining, nurturing words of wisdom that encourage me when I need the spark of hope. I believe in belief. I believe that above all, there is goodness in the world, there is joy in the morning, there is comfort for the downcast. I count the ways I’m fortunate, and the joys that fill my life even when I’m anxious.

I tell myself that life works out. It will be all right, whatever “it” may be. Have faith. But sometimes, I falter a bit. What if it doesn’t work out? I see others whose stories don’t end well, whose lives have not worked out according to plan. What if I, or those I love, have the same experience? What if?

I face the fear, feel the physical sensation in my stomach. We’re old friends now, this sensation and me. I recognize it for what it is. It feels good to be stronger than this feeling. This isn’t a sign of bravery. It is a victory of strength, strength I didn’t know I had, strength I am growing day by day. It comes from recognition. I can only do so much, I can only do what I can do. I, who avoid conflict, am learning to confront.

Back to first principles. Do your best. Do your part. Don’t give up. Appreciate what you have. Share when you can. Believe.

Last weekend I found a site that expresses this eloquently. If you are looking for encouragement and a call to be thankful, grateful, joyful, this may speak to you.

A Holy Experience

I am learning to rest, to have peace, to keep my joy…I didn’t have to acquire it, I came here with joy ingrained in my being. But I’ve struggled to hold it, through some of life’s question marks. And even as I write this, I know that I’ll have to do this again tomorrow, and the next day, and next.

Saturday night, hearing the tsunami warning sirens, racing to throw a few things in the car before evacuating, some of these thoughts were flashing through my mind. I thought of family, plans, dreams, impacted by unseen force of earthquake. How do you plan for earthquake? For tsunami? The answer is, you really don’t. You can do so little. But you do what you can. You evacuate when you’re told to. You follow instructions. You hope, you pray. You thank God for the people, the good things, filling your life. And when the rush of the moment is over and you realize there’s no life threatening emergency after all, you promise yourself you’ll remember that flash of insight. I have so much.

I am blessed. I am grateful. And I am learning.

 

These I like

These are a few random quotes that caught my eye for their cleverness, humor, or absolute clarity of thought ~

I don’t know why “wanty” sounds better than “needy,” but it does!

Ahh, my southern roots!

Never a dull moment!

Tonight we experienced our first tsunami evacuation. A 7.7 earthquake hit this evening off the coast of British Columbia, and a tsunami warning was quickly issued for SE Alaska.

Rob is on call in Metlakatla this weekend, and he was at the clinic seeing a patient when the quake hit. I was at the apartment we use when he works here, and was completely absorbed in my blog world, reading authors I follow, posting comments, in my own little fog. The apartment was quiet, until I noticed the lamp on the table beside me vibrating. At first I thought someone was running a washing machine in the apartment above. Then I realized nothing was running, but the lamp was definitely moving. Not a good sign. I actually got up and opened the front door, but didn’t see swaying utility poles or anything that looked out of the ordinary. So I went back to my laptop.

My phone rang and Rob was on the line, asking me if I felt the quake, saying we were being evacuated. I drove to the clinic to pick him up, he loaded the back of the car with some medical supplies, and we drove to the high point on the island, probably less than a couple of miles away. A long line of cars was already headed that way, and we quickly moved to the area where the medical and EMS personnel were gathered. Sitting there, then getting out of the car, talking with some of the others who were gathered, waiting, it was a little like an impromptu neighborhood party. Someone passed around bottled water, a kid came around with coffee. There was lots of conversation about other earthquake experiences, other natural disasters. If I had thought to bring food to snack on we could have had a tailgate party.

Listening to the radio from Ketchikan, we learned that a very small wave…just a few inches…had hit another island in the region. I’m not sure if any noticeable wave ever hit Metlakatla or Ketchikan. All I know is we waited about two hours for official word to come so we could be released to go home and eat the dinner I had left in the oven.

In the end, we were released, but I came back to the apartment by myself. Rob went back to the clinic to take care of a patient who had experienced some kind of event during the evacuation. Now I sit watching the updates on the tsunami heading toward Hawaii, with occasional updates on hurricane Sandy moving toward the East Coast. You never know, do you, what’s coming your way?

The last time we were here for the weekend, there was a murder, the first murder in this community in 20 years I was told. I think we’ll wait a while before we make a return visit. These little towns…too intense for me!