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Late last night we experienced a really strong thunderstorm, lightening and thunder in loud, fast succession, pelting rain and hail, and tons of wind.

Eddy ran into our room and declared, "I'm scared."  At first we popped him in our bed until it quieted outside a little (about half an hour), and sent him back to his room.  Ten minutes later, back he came.  "It's scary."  We hugged him and sent him to bed.  Ten minutes later, pat pat pat.  Here he comes again.
     "I'm scared."
     "It'll be okay, sweetie."
     "Oh, I'll be fine."  And he turned around and went to bed =)

Soon after, it got really bad.  Dan went to check the weather, and to make sure his equipment and product were safe.  Eddy and I were going to snuggle in bed until four words from Dan popped me out of bed with Eddy and blanket in arm faster than you'd think is possible at that hour.  "Could be a tornado."  We decided to wait downstairs.

The thunder got louder.  The lightening got faster.  So fast, in fact, I had to shut my eyes from the strobe light effect.  Eddy was scared.  I held him on a cushy chair and tried to stay calm.  Dan didn't come in.  The storm was really loud.  I've never been in a tornado before.  He said it is extremely loud and comes without warning.  Will we have time to run outside to the cellar if it comes?  Will that put us in danger of this close lightening?  I couldn't take it any longer and popped out of the chair with Eddy.  I was ready to head out to the cellar when I looked through the door on the porch and spotted Dan, sitting at the computer.  I exhaled.  Finally.

Dan was examining the weather radar in expert fashion, having studied meteorology and practiced "reading the skies" sensibly for his business for years.  Boy, was I relieved.  He was safe.  He was right by us.  He wasn't worried.  Best yet, he wasn't doing anything drastic.  The storm must be okay.  We'll wait for a word from him.  I sank into the chair, this time with truly comforting words for Eddy, because I was comforted.

"It'll be okay.  Mommy's right here.  I've got you.  Daddy's right here.  He'll protect us.  God loves us, and he's bigger than any storm."  We sat peaceful and quiet until Dan came in.

Apparently there were tiny dots of storms speckled from the twin cities all the way down to Iowa.  The 5-mile speckle we were in was one of the worst, but it would soon pass.  No tornado warnings or watches.  No hail large enough to damage anything.  Back to bed we went.

Pat, pat pat, in our room came Eddy again.  Still too scary.  2:30am now.  Dan just wanted sleep.  Eddy wasn't going to leave, so I pulled him in bed.  Dan jumped right out and retreated to the guest room.

I figured Eddy would wonder why so I explained, "Daddy had to leave because he can't sleep when you wiggle so much."
     Eddy's head sprang up. "It's okay mommy.  It's not a problem."

He got sent back as soon as the thunder quieted.

Oh, and look at that!  Another one of our trees got split in half.  This one landed on our neighbor's cow pasture. No wonder that thunder was so loud.  It sure was close.

BEFORE

AFTER

A week after returning home from Mayo Clinic and from oh so many cancer treatments we'd never have dreamed of when they got married.  Ten months after hundreds of friends and family started praying for him.  One year after he married the love of his life.  God has chosen to take my good friend Kyle home.  I don't understand why.  I can't believe it's true.  I feel the pain of my very close friend Abi, his wife, in her devastation.  

Sometimes emotional stress gets you down.  For some reason the Lord has chosen to surround me with deaths and grieving loved ones the last couple months, with financial complications to sort out, or relationships, or schedules to wade through, or occupational replacements to find, etc.

Two full days of dealing with such things left me in a haze.  No energy to feel, but about to burst with all the anxiety and questions and frustrations and fears inside.  Going on with life and schedule only deterred the problem.

I came to Eau Claire.  After trying phone calls and hugs and nature, I spied my beloved piano...waiting for me.

The radio got switched off as I nervously approached the instrument with forgetful and out-of-shape hands.  Musical score was not enough.  I have nor can play no song as intense and complex as I felt today.  It would have to be something new.  I warmed up with a favorite scale: G flat major.  And beginning with G flat, I played a small slow melody, a tiny emerging thought amid the silence of aloneness, that quietly faded back into the silence.  Another thought emerged, and another, until too many memories and aches were crowding each other out with austere, depressing chords and rhythms of frantic searching.  A breath of calm, stolen away by new thoughts and desires, dashed hopes of the future, and screams of anger.  A spinning blind searching of what to do, with no clear answers.  A good memory or practical thought is spelled out deliberately to combat this despair, but only turn sour and bring back the storm.  Between each thought, each cry, each flood of emotion, silence reigns, tormenting the soul.  Finally, exhausted, regret and anger submit to calm and life.  God  shows up.  In a version of Amazing Grace, he stills the storm and brings to light his promises, his gifts, and what really matters.  A true sigh of relief follows, then stillness, this time not of torment but of peace.

Never again to be played or recorded, my one-time song expressed and unwound my knotted thoughts and emotions.  Still raw and tired, I know now how to resolve.  I heard and perceived the heart of the problem and its answer for today, as I talked it out, in my heart language of wordless music.

Where your ear leads you, speak in that medium.  Perhaps your confusion lies in using a foreign tongue.

I started this blog to catalog my positive experiences and perspectives in order to gain a more positive attitude toward life.  Unfortunately right now my mind is too clouded with so many baffling circumstances to tune in to the beauty I'm sure is around me, so all I can say to the positive is this:

When nothing else makes sense, find hope in the trustworthiness of God.

Five of us from BioLawn (Dan the boss / Charlie the sales & tech / Gayle the secretary / Naomi the finacier / Eddy the mascot) drove to St. Paul Park for a visitation and memorial service today.  It was packed.  We were the only ones there who knew no one else there (except one of Ken's sons we'd met once and another ex-BioLawn employee who knew Ken came as well).  Sisters and brothers and parents and aunts and uncles and cousins and college friends and rehab friends and childhood friends and all their spouses and children and friends were there.  The service itself was all right.  A few people stood and talked about their friendships with Ken (including our Charlie -- thank you). No family stood up.  The sermon was good -- really close to being a good Christian message. A very good practical message to Ken's loved ones.  We found out much deeper about Ken's addiction-riddled history while we were there.  Apparently there are still hurt feelings.  The deacon spoke on forgiveness.  Jesus forgave quickly and readily.  We should too.  The rest of the service was lame but we got through it.  The whole event was very awkward.  But it was nice to see the crowds of people who loved Ken, and whom Ken loved -- his legacy, so to speak.  They banded together and cried together (Ken's mother hugged and cried with Dan / Ken's sister hugged and told us Ken really really really loved us / Ken's aunt said what a drastic positive change Ken's life took when he started working for us and making "those new friends" who were only us).  Apparently we didn't know the same Ken the rest of them knew -- the Ken with issues he could never seem to get over...until last year.  But it was still good to see the dozens and dozens of people who knew the same guy we knew.  Because he was the same guy -- just in different seasons of his life.  We got to see him on the top (which makes Daniel OH so much sadder), happy, confident, gaining success in his relationships. But everyone saw his compassion, his love for children, especially his own, his humility, his openness, and his hard work ethic: things we cherished.  This huge crowd of people love and miss him like we do.  It was good to hug his sisters and get to know them a little bit.  I wish we could've gone to the dinner afterward to be more relaxed with his family, but perhaps I'll stop by again in a couple days and see how they are doing.  Ken is the invisible bond that brings all these people together in love and tears and hugs.  Loved ones make it worth it.

But it was still an exhausting day.

I've been hesitating to write anything here since the tragedy at work Monday. Covering up Ken's memory with other things really scared me...since that's all we still have of him.  It's been a hard and strange week. Eddy has become so familiar with Dan's and my moods that every time he sees us sad, or crying, or quiet, he asks, "You sad 'cuz Ken went away?"  I hope the funeral, this Monday, helps how we feel. At least we'll get to know Ken's family better, and hear some new things about him, and be allowed to converse openly about how we all miss him so much.  Dan has had a worse time than I have, because he was so close to Ken, and especially because he had to finish Ken's route from Monday, he had to redistribute Ken's scheduled jobs, and he had to find (gulp) a replacement. Then he had to work an extra day to catch up on everything.

For me this week has been a stirring of emotions and thoughts.  Disbelief, denial, anger, despair, confusion, and searching have all played their parts in the story of my thoughts, a story that has gradually changed through the hours. I sometimes fight recovery in fear of forgetting, but I know God is in the recovery, and I can trust him.  I've come to some conclusions in my mind, which I hope to act upon: Though Ken's time is through, my life is still going, and to not continue in life would be to deny God's will for me.  Everyone lives for a short time and dies; in the span of history it's not whether you died that shapes your story, but what you did while you lived.  We could have our own memorial service to speak openly about our friend, draw our attention to our mortality, and to God. And we should take our employees up on their invitations to dinner and such -- something we should've done with Ken and his boys, then it wouldn't have been so awkward now.

Life...goes...on...and each day we change.

This note is in memory of our best employee and a very close friend: Kenny.  Wow, it...feels strange writing this, considering we spoke to him this morning, and he was doing great. Kenny has always been a devoted worker and learner, so naturally he's gotten steadily better and better at his job since he started.  He loved his job, and we loved having him.  He always came into the office in the morning with a big smile and determination for excellence -- but never at the expense of sincerity, openness, and kindness to us as well. True kindness, politeness, genuine care, and gentleness. We could see he was a great dad (single dad) to his 3 teen age boys, who reflect his character.  Even though Kenny had an incredibly difficult and regrettable history, somehow he never let it get to him.  He dealt with things head on and kept moving forward. I am really going to miss him. Unbeknown to each other, Daniel and I spent much of this afternoon crying.

Kenny conquered so many things: alcoholism, drug addiction, bad relationships, single parent difficulties, poverty, depression...  and things were looking up. His whole family testifies to "having him back" the last year and a half, and he was so happy to be "back"...back with his sons, with his siblings, with his ailing mother, with those he loved more than anyone else in the world. I remember the thing he loved doing most was spending time with his boys.  He'd schedule work off or move extra fast to finish a route early so he could go to a son's game.  He'd bring a son to work on a non-route day to see what dad did for a living and give 'em a taste of work. He was so proud of them...and they were proud of him, too.

By now I'm sure you're wondering what happened.  Well, there's really not much to tell.  Kenny was doing very well on his route today, amazing Dan with his speed and accuracy, as he had for the last week.  In fact, Dan just gave him another raise a couple days ago for it.  Right after lunch he fell over, someone called the police, who called our office. An ambulance rushed him to the hospital but he was unresponsive. They called us back to pronounce him officially gone.  That was it, so strange, so sudden, so seemingly untimely. It doesn't sink in. My mind rejects the thought.

Tonight Dan, Eddy and I drove to Kenny's house to return his car.  There were lots of family members there, all with tears in their eyes and all loving and comforting each other. They welcomed us warmly and reiterated over and over how much Ken loved his job, and how much he revived his life since he started working for us.  We shared some things we loved about Kenny, and assured them we'd be happy to do anything for them, if they needed anything. We await the funeral.  Even Eddy, as little as he comprehends the subject of death, was sad to hear that Kenny had gone away and wouldn't return. He loved Kenny as much as anyone did, and asked about him over and over on the way to his house. One of Ken's son's gave Eddy a little toy car and we wrote "Kenny" on the hood in memory.

I'm submitting a page from our company newsletter from last June.  It includes an article about Kenny. Enjoy.

I am a nature person.  Strike that. I am a garden and greenhouse girl.  I love love love working in the dirt and sun, smelling plants, hearing birds, and creating and pampering something into paradise.  I'm AWFUL at houseplants.  But give me a flowerbed and a hose, and I'm in heaven.  Perhaps I will have my very own garden oasis some day, but for now I'll be happy with maintaining and hopefully transforming my landlady's already nicely prepared space.  Let's see if I can raise her home value just a tiny bit by October (and get loads of flowers and veggies out of it for myself).

Today I woke up on the wrong side of the bed...Okay, let's just say it.  I was depressed.  Overnight my life seemed to be crashing down on me, I was emotionally useless and couldn't snap out of it.  Thanks to my caring (albeit sick and out of it) husband, it occurred to me to fiddle in the garden.  "It's a large property.  There's bound to be something more to do.  Just look around."  I did and there was.  As when I was a teenager and went to work at a local greenhouse WHEN I was sick, TO feel better, so I felt today.

I gardened through Eddy's nap, and slowly, quietly, as I worked, I breathed.  I thought calmly. I worked.  I pulled every single microscopic weed there was in that bed. My heartbeat slowed.  I came back in for Eddy and he joined me.  Even in the stress of motherhood during a difficult day for Eddy too, I was rejuvenated. I had fun!  We had fun.  We even took a break to sit by a tree and watch our neighbor drive a tractor around and feed cows.  Eddy appreciated that.

Give me more garden days this summer, and I will be happier.

God became flesh and dwelt among us.  He died, but rose and conquered death for us.  We have hope.  Hope of new life. Hope of life everlasting!  Hope of a body restored and healed.  Hope.  True hope.

A declining cancer patient puts meaning to those words...though the tears still come...

Hope.

I went to see a friend in the hospital yesterday. She was there for her husband, who's been battling Leukemia the last 8 months (they got married only 10 months ago). My visit was a rare and special one because the hospital is 100 miles away and Daniel needs our car a lot for business. But someone else needed me to drive their car down, Eddy had a birthday party to attend in that town, and we just happened to know a couple driving back to Eau Claire from there yesterday afternoon. All the pieces fell into place and I went down.

I didn't know what I would do or say, exactly, just that I should go. I hadn't heard much from her, and I wanted to give her strength, if I could, just by being there, doing the best I could to help carry the emotional burden, helping her open up. Letting her know I was praying...I don't know. I wanted to help somehow. Perhaps I did. But I know she helped me.

We sat in a window lined lobby as rain pelted down on the gray downtown streets outside. She was exhausted. Very little sleep, catching up with work, and trauma can do that to a person. We talked about all sorts of things, caught up, and discussed things on our minds. Sometimes we just sat there. I began to open up to some burdens on my mind, and when I did I was returned not with the expected nod or condolences, but cutting words of wisdom. Words of experience. Words of gold. She had seen the fire and realized God was still there. He didn't always make sense, but He doesn't have to.  It helped that she has a "high ambiguity tolerance"--kinda straightens out my over-calculating tainted perfectionism =) Eventually we left, me to my schedule, she to her sleep. But as I darted through the chilly rain, my mind was full. I knew more how to pray for my friend, and I knew more how to live life. I felt at once shame, and gratitude, and sorrow, and purpose. My friend had given me perhaps more than I gave her.

This experience drives me to prayer, to guarding my thoughts, to selfless obedience. I can't explain it well, but I thank and pray for my dear friend.

I am taking a week off of blogging my life's happinesses to refocus on cleaning my house =) Don't be alarmed if my website stays the same until next week. That means I could be working instead of computering.

Thanks

I had a mediocre birthday. And I didn't blog on my birthday. For a sometimes perfectionist, that drives me crazy after the big deal I made of it, but, what can I say? The day started in a not-so-good mood and then got better, but also busier. I had house to clean, Eddy to take care of, a baby shower to go to, then straight over to choir practice, a quick bite, the church service, out to dinner with my dad, and home to bed early for more choir in the morning. Blogging was not on the schedule.

Birthdays are a big deal to me. And in the past a day like my yesterday would've broken me down and taken a long time to recover from (aside from the great dinner with Dad and his wife Linda. Thanks, guys!). But even without too much glamor, one nice thing about my birthday this year was that I had a glimmer of maturity about it (wow, where did that come from?). I realized everything doesn't have to be about me (I'm still working on that lesson).

Lately I have been thinking about missions for my church and family and about a friend in the hospital. Friday was spent devoted to Eddy, Saturday I got to shower a friend-who's-expecting with gifts and hugs and catching up, then I got to help serve the church with sincere music to the Lord. Sunday had more of the music, plus hugs and prayers for a couple with a baby loved one in the hospital, a listening ear for a friend, and group acceptance and prayer for another struggling friend. And in thinking on others I found joy! Life is not about me. Besides, I got tons of good wishes from tons of friends and family, many of which I rarely hear from! How cool is that? So I decided I shouldn't weigh others down with silly daydreams that didn't come true, and instead I should love them.

A great after birthday perspective for the good and bad birthdays of life: Love your neighbor as yourself.

The last two days have been rather difficult for me. I originally started this blog to see the positive aspects of my life, but I couldn't bring myself to say happy things on a day when I felt so down and incapable that I spread despair to those around me. The blog would've become an alternate reality for me, and entirely lose it's use. So, I resolved to wait until something lifted me from the pit.

That time has come.

Friday was a bit of a disappointment, which led me to think of several other disappointments, difficulties, and unknowns on my plate. That is how Saturday began. My mood deteriorated quickly. My family started to notice. Soon unattained goals, frustrated expectations, fears, and unsatisfied longings were whirling around in my mind. Productivity stopped. My family suffered. I tried desperately to pick myself up, but felt no strength. By Sunday all nerves in the house were raw and untended. A good reminder of God and fellowship at church, but all too much activity for a heart that needed time to resolve so many problems. Conflict was inevitable. Everything inside vied for attention, and all came out together in an unintelligible mass of confusion and heartache (it wasn't a good night). FINALLY, I had enough, I sought solitude and threw myself down in my black hopelessness...

In a tiny voice I cried for help. A tiny help came. I gained courage to speak, and found one word: "prayer". I reflected on this gift, then began all my sorrows and questions and regrets to pour out in what appeared an empty room. I was embraced. I was spoken softly to. I was heard. I was known. I had nothing to prove and nothing to lose, so my fear just scampered away. In short, I had an overdue heart-to-heart with God. He reminded me He is the sensitive person I need when I'm sad. He will love me no matter how insufficient I feel, no matter how much I fail. In a life where I feel like I'm always in a precarious job interview, He will never deem me unworthy for my job. He knows the worst of me, more than I do; He really will work out everything for my good; and He really will finish the work in me that He's started.

I don't need to haul heavy burdens of Try everywhere I go. I need only to listen to His soft voice, His gentle requests, and take another step. He will make sure I have what I need after that. Now just one step more. He won't leave me alone. Feeling better already, one step again. He is healing me even now.

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth...God is love...God demonstrated His love toward us in that...Christ died for us...how shall He not with him also freely give us all things?...all things work together for good to them that love God...if God be for us, who shall be against us?...for I am persuaded that nothing will be able to separate us from the love of God.

Positive: 8 a: having a good effect: FAVORABLE: b: marked by optimism

A conversation with my brother about life recently brought some long-standing questions to the surface of my mind: why do I, without trying, always see the bad about everything around me? How can my life be so dark, when someone else with the same circumstances think of every part of work and life as a grand vacation?

He said he has learned to only notice the bright side of things...a point of view I've always thought of as shallow, silly, unreal. Maybe that's my problem. Upon looking on the memorized phrases of Scripture above, I gotta admit, there is huge amounts of positivity in the Bible. Of course, the point I always fall on is that you can't fool yourself either. God teaches us to look at the good AND the bad realistically. But, what would happen if I gave this positivity thing a try? I think God has given me plenty of blessings enough to fill one blog. Perhaps I'll find out I've been living in paradise all along...I just needed to take off the dark glasses =)