Desert Disassembling

dis·as·sem·ble - verb (used with object)

1.  to take apart.

 

I don't know about you, but when it's been a while since I've talked to someone, I find ways to avoid reconnecting because how do you go back and fill in the gaps since the last conversation?  The reality is that you can't and a lot of the little, daily things that might have made up the relationship building is forgotten or left out so you can begin again and move forward from that point.  That's what this post is today.  Beginning again, moving forward.

 

I'll start with this:  today is our 36th wedding anniversary.  Wow.  How did that much time go by that fast?  More honestly, how did we actually make it that long?  The biggest reason is because for all the things we had going against us when we got married at ages 19 and 20, the one thing we were both committed to was our relationship with Jesus Christ and therefore to each other.  Divorce was simply not an option for either one of us.  With that exit door closed, we had to work through the tough times, the dry times, the busy times, the disconnected times, and the times we just really didn't like each other very much.  Two overused phrases come to mind that can pretty much sum it up:  "God is love" and "Love is a choice".  It doesn't make for a great Disney movie, but it works in real life if both people are committed to making it work. 

 

 

 

 

The past three months...okay, the past 5 years, have been about my life slowly being disassembled from the picture on the puzzle box in my mind so God could put the frame together that He designed for my life and begin to fill in that picture.  As so often is the case, my idea and His plan don't look much alike...at least not yet. 

 

 

I would love to say that I've been patient, excitedly waiting to see what the puzzle would look like, but I can't.  I've had moments, even moments strung together, that I've thought it was kind of exciting to be "out of the box", but those have long passed.  I've done more complaining, whining, and crying than anything else recently and I've mostly beat myself up because that's been my response.  But be honest, doesn't a Norman Rockwell painting look much nicer than the unfinished frame above?  Of course it does!  Disappointment, grieving, and even anger is an appropriate emotional response to that drastic of a difference.  The danger is grieving without hope because then I've lost sight of God.  The truth is not only has He not been caught off guard by my little life crisis, He's actually right in the middle of it all.   So my silence has been in composition only; my mind and spirit have been much engaged in a wrestling match that God is graciously overseeing.

 

Life here in beautiful middle Tennessee has been lonely.  We made it a year without losing another job so that's a huge cause for celebration!!  It took a couple of tries but we've decided on a church that we believe we're to join with to be part of the local body in our community.  Nashville is an interesting city with lots of musicians, artists, and creative types hoping to find their dreams here.  Most of them are young and we are not.  :)  My heart desire for a "kindred spirit" has not been met yet and trying to stay connected to those that exist is challenging at the least and usually much more complicated than that.  I miss our kids and the dream I had of us sharing life together in close proximity.

 

However...a conversation I had this morning with a dear friend I've known for most of our 36 years together reminded me that thankfulness is a sacrifice I can still choose to make when it isn't easy to give.  They use a candle at their dinner table every night as a visible reminder to find blessing in whatever God is bringing their way.  Sometimes the littlest things are what keep us going.

 

 

"This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine.
This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine."

One More Day!

TOMORROW!!!!!  That is when the Atlanta Braves pitchers and catchers officially report to Spring Training in Orlando at their Disney Complex.

For just a few weeks the playing fields are level and every player is the hero of the World Series.  There's something about the Florida (or Arizona) sun that's warmer than most places in our country, the smell of freshly cut grass, the thwacking of a baseball hitting a glove in a game of catch, and seats so close to the field you can hear the players talk. All is right with the world for a minute or two because life as we know it has remained the same somewhere.

Some of my favorite memories are from the game of baseball. A lot of us from my generation listened on summer nights to our local broadcaster describe the action on our transistor radios held by our ears. My hometown of Atlanta was defined a couple of decades ago by phrases such as "Worst to First", "The Catch", and "The Slide".

Snow will be falling here in middle Tennessee tomorrow, but with sincere apologies to Ernest Lawrence Thayer, I will be looking beyond the slush because...

"Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light;
And somewhere men are laughing as they bend and stretch and run;
Because there is joy in Mudville, Spring Training has begun!"

~Casey At The Bat (mostly)

Graceful Numbers

I'm not sure where I learned this, but somewhere in my life I heard that the number 5 represented grace.  I thought of that last October when I turned 55 on my birthday.  Since I had two 5's going on, I decided that meant I could claim double grace for me and my family in 2012.  Then the other day I was thinking about this again and realized that if you added the numbers 2+0+1+2 together, you get...5.  So I'm taking that as confirmation of my earlier deduction and find myself looking forward to what this empty slate of a year has in store for us.  I'm pretty sure this would hold up in a theology class....not!   :)

Anniversaries deal with numbers too.  We reflect on how many years since (fill in the blank) happened and whether that's a cause for celebration or a remembrance of loss.  When I was talking with my Mom this morning, she reminded me that exactly one year ago today, she returned home after 31 days of emergency room/hospital/rehab stay and it gave me quite a pause.  A year and a month ago I would have bet money that she wouldn't live through all that was going on.  For a purely random comparison, here's her Christmas tree last year that we put in on the windowsill of her hosptial room. She actually has no memory of anything surrounding the holiday.

And this was this year's tree in the beginning stages of being decorated in the living room of her apartment.

I would have to say that falls in the grace category.

This past weekend as the rest of the country was celebrating the birthday of Martin Luther King, Jr., I periodically looked back to six years ago and what was Tiffany's wedding weekend. Every once in a while, I still just shake my head at the reality that is ours and how that barely a year later, her husband walked out on her and ultimately chose an alternate life style leaving lots of carnage in his wake. But mostly I am thankful to God for saving her from a marriage that was already full of heartache and preparing her for the life He called her to.

I would have to say that falls in the grace category.

Back in my youth, there was a song by Three Dog Night called "One". The first line says, "One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do". I've learned that truth firsthand in the last few months as the settling in here in Tennessee has gone much slower than I had anticipated. I am by myself a lot. We're still not settled for sure on a church and you don't see neighbors in an apartment building except in the parking lot. And to top it off, three months ago we lost Kit, my feline companion that filled a void I didn't realize was as big as it was until she's been gone. But in this time of solitude, I've learned in new ways that God is always there. Being alone with myself doesn't scare me anymore; in fact I'm almost too OK with it sometimes. I suspect that as we age and those we love begin to leave us faster than we'd like, the knowledge that I will never truly be alone will sustain me when nothing else can.

I would have to say that falls in the grace category.

So maybe 2011 wasn't as lacking in grace as I thought. But I'm still claiming a double share of it this year just in case!

Tweaking

Happy New Year to everyone! Yes, I know, I'm a little late on that one and realize it's almost MLK's birthday holiday, but better late than never, right? Over the last month or so, I've been pondering some tweaking of the blog and as a result haven't really done much of anything. I realize that if I want to stay interested in keeping up with Keepin' Up With The Joneses I actually have to do just that. And it would help in keeping readers too. Well, if there are actually any left.

SO....my goal for this new year is to have entries often, even if they're only a picture or a sentence or two. I think I've been guilty of thinking that if I didn't really have anything significant to say, then I didn't need to say anything. But isn't that a bit narcissistic? Why do I think that anything I ever say could be significant?  (By the way, how do you like the use of the word "narcissistic"? I'm learning bits and pieces from Tiffany as she plods away at her master's degree in counseling and I must say that I'm better for it!!)  I think I've concluded that whether anyone reads or not, for now this is a way for me to journal through the adventures we seem destined to live out and to help me remember what the year has brought.  It appears we'll be settling down for a while in the Nashville area, so we'll see what unfolds as the year goes on.

I don't have much time right now to wax eloquently, so I'll just share a few of my favorite pictures from Christmas and tell you why they are.

I realized a few years back that our tree ornaments tell a story every year as I decorate it so I intentionally keep an eye out for new ones to add to the collection. This first picture is of a new Hallmark ornament of an Oriole which represents our time in Baltimore along with a locally designed ornament with part of downtown Franklin drawn on it.

This ornament is not a new one, but it makes me smile every year as I put it on the tree. When it's dark, dreary, and cold outside, it's a reminder that life keeps moving forward and in the not so distant future Spring Training awaits along with a new season of hope for baseball fans everywhere.

This was a gift from our dark-haired Disney daughter this Christmas and it makes my heart smile. It's a reminder that all girls are princesses and while it seems that the wait for Prince Charming for some seems eternal, God has a plan and He's moving everyone into place at just the right time.

This last one made me cry when I finally got around to putting it together. Loss of loved ones, human and otherwise, is a universally common theme for all of us and we experienced that with Kit this fall. She had been part of our family for 15 years and it was very sad to not have her sleeping under the tree this year. Matthew brought his cat, Simba, when all of the kids came to celebrate Christmas and his presence was a help for me in the absence of Kit.

I'll leave you with a picture of our greatest gift this year.

While the moves of the last three years and the total upheaval of our family has been difficult a lot of the time, I have learned something very valuable in the process. Being together as a family, whether often or only once a year, is a gift and I hope to never take it for granted again.

Fuzzy Finish

In my time zone, it's not quite midnight yet as I begin this entry, so it's not officially the day of the 2011 Winter Solstice.  But it's close enough that I can say most wholeheartedly, "Thank you, God, that this is the shortest day of 2011"!! The year is almost over and a new one can begin fresh, with no mistakes in it.  And I, for one, am ready.

Exactly one year ago when I woke up, I never dreamed that the next time I laid my head on my pillow would be thirty-five hours later.  Those thirty-five hours saw a diagnostic doctor visit for my mother turn into emergency cancer surgery resulting in a colostomy for her.

Side note:  While only one sentence, the above words have required months of living before it could be written so concisely.  

Woven throughout the threads that have made up my mother's life this year with all of its resulting complications have been more changes for our family.  Even I can't keep up with the Joneses anymore!!

April saw Hamp's "new" job that moved us back to Georgia end unexpectedly so in June we packed up hearth and home once again and headed to Nashville to the only job that was offered. 

We barely got settled when Hamp decided to test out the local emergency facilities by having a heart attack during the 4th of July weekend.  Then, after months of assessment, Tiffany had to have her thyroid removed in mid-July which has made her already full life of graduate school and work much more interesting as she's battled getting hormone levels balanced.  Matthew's house finally sold in October ending a year of stress and financial worries, then Michael and Bekah moved halfway across the country in November to Texas to a new job, new climate, and life challenges that are still being worked through.  Mixed in there somewhere was my birthday in October which was spent saying goodbye to our sweet Kit, the family cat for the last fifteen years.

It's been a difficult year.  Starting over has lost its adventure and I have drug my feet in doing so.  We don't really have a church home yet nor a group of people with whom we can share life.  Friends and family are at least four hours away and in a different time zone which has been an interesting adjustment.  I'm still not over that fact that the sun is setting at 4:30 right now!

Yes, I know, I'm whining...and doing a good job of it! But I've realized as this year is rapidly coming to a close that while difficult, it has been one in which we've seen God's faithfulness in so many ways. For example, this is a picture of my Mom from last weekend when we gathered for Christmas with my side of the family. Pretty good for someone who wasn't supposed to live through her ordeal a year ago, huh?

And while things haven't been easy for any of them, our kids are seeing God meet them in new ways and they are continuing to trust Him as they travel the paths He has set before them.

In glancing back over this entry, I realized I haven't really addressed the title yet. I had to have cataract surgery this fall on both of my eyes. (Yes, I'm considered "young" to need it yet, but I have genetics to thank for that!) The surgery was easy and recovery has been fine except for the minor detail of my world being fairly fuzzy if I get much beyond a couple of car lengths. It won't be until January before the healing will be complete and I can get my glasses tweaked which will enable me to see clearly again. I've thought often about this verse and as I have, I realize that it describes this year well. I haven't seen much beyond my immediate circumstances to know what God is up to. But someday, I will, and the story that's being written over all of our smaller ones is the One that will finally make sense of them all.

1 Corinthians 13:12 - "For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known."

So forgive me, 2011, if I seem a bit eager to be rid of you. Don't take it personally. And should you decide to ask 2012 to take it a bit easy on the Joneses, we won't mind!

Thanksgiving Hands

I'm back in TN after a busy month or so which recently saw us in Orlando for Thanksgiving again with Tiffany.  The weekend before that we were in GA for my brother's wedding.  The proximity of those two events led to an interesting union in my head one night when it took a while to go to sleep and I wanted to share it with you.

First, I'm guessing most of us had an experience either as the elementary student or the parent of one that resulted in a finished project looking something like this.

Or perhaps this.

Both creative turkeys used little hands to make them and probably somewhere in the lesson taught was the giving of thanks for various aspects of life.

Fast forward to the weekend before Thanksgiving and picture time at my brother's wedding. Tiffany was able to fly in for the special occasion and did double (triple?) duty as the flower arranger, photographer, and creative support for me in helping make things look just right. One of her favorite pictures to see/take is of the bride and groom's hands as they show off their new rings. Picture #1 was taken and deemed quite acceptable...with one lone dissenter.

Having dealt with severe arthritis and its complications for most of her life, Carla grudgingly agreed that the picture was OK, even though we could tell she wasn't overly excited about it. It would have been easy to just keep going to the next planned picture because to the rest of us, she is a beautiful woman of God, both inside and out, and we didn't see a problem with the picture as it was. But John knew the heart of his new bride well, so he quietly took her hand again and held it tenderly in a new position for another picture.

At the time, I was moved by the sweet gesture of love that was expressed, but on that sleepless night I realized an even greater truth. Marriage is supposed to be the tangible example of God's love to His people here on earth, but in today's world a curious observer might conclude that as soon as we mess up, He's gone. Instead, the reality is that He tenderly accepts us not because we have no blemishes, but simply because we're His...and He loves us. We might not have a picture in an album to show that, but all we have to do is look at the cross of Jesus and the proof is there.

Congratulations, John and Carla as you begin your lives together and thank you for letting us be part of your special day!

On Life and Loss

9 days ago I had a birthday.  8 days ago we had to take Kit, our family cat to the vet for the dreaded but eventual one way trip that a lot of us have to make with our pets.  It was a crappy birthday week.

We had gone to GA for the weekend to celebrate my Dad's induction into the Georgia Radio Hall of Fame with the rest of my family that could be there. 

We arrived home Sunday late afternoon to Kit not greeting us at the door as we came into the apartment.  When I called her, she came out from under our bed, but it was obvious that she was not herself.  Vet visits Monday afternoon and again on Thursday became the foreshadowing of the reality I had slowly begun to accept. 

She was still Kit, but obviously things were not right on the inside and she was getting worse.  Instead of going out to celebrate my birthday, we stayed home and I periodically would go into the bathroom where we were keeping her to check on how she was doing. 

I ended the beginning of my 55th year on this earth saying goodbye to a beloved pet that had shared the last 15 of them with me.  And then on Friday morning, with my heart breaking, I quietly patted her to sleep as the sedative took effect and then walked out of the room through one door while the vet went out the back door to administer the final shot that would stop her heart.

A lot of you don't like cats and don't understand those of us who make room for them in our lives.  But for those of us who have, we've learned that a cat and her mysterious ways are simply a wealth of affection waiting to be discovered and embraced.  I could never begin to count the number of family pictures she's in from being cuddled as a scrawny little kitten that looked like a baby possum to sitting or laying on each family member more ways and more times than any of us can count.  In the last few years, I was the primary recipient because I was the only one home during the day and wintertime found her on my lap within a minute or two of sitting down, preferably with a fleece blanket over my lap first.

I've read that when grief comes for any reason, it pokes at the scars from past pain and can multiply the emotion that is felt.  I have found that to be true and as with the original grief, I'm ready for it to be over before it apparently is going to be.  I had distractions this week in the form of a visit from Joey but he left today.  While the intense feeling of loss has lessened, I know that it will be a while before I quit thinking that I see or hear Kit as I go through my day.

Matt Redman has a song on his album, "10,000 Reasons" called "O This God".  Part of the lyrics are below:

We've walked through storms and
We have walked through sorrow
Still You won't let them steal away tomorrow

We are going to shine
Now we are going to shine for You

We leave the old behind
It will not define us, no
Yesterday is gone
Now anything is possible

Those I have loved and lost, human and otherwise, will always be in my heart and will never be forgotten. But if I'm not careful, grieving over what's gone could steal away tomorrow and I don't want that to happen. So I'm praying the tears that have yet to fall will soften my heart and not harden it as I look ahead to what this now makes possible.

"How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard."
~A.A. Milne, Winnie the Pooh