Tag Archives: Nano

Names and Some Other Stuff

life, , ,

Well,

It’s Fall and that means some things.
First of all, it’s one of my favourite seasons. I just wish it didn’t mean Winter is coming real fast.
Next, it’s my first born son’s favourite season. We used to live in the country and most days that he came home from school or work he would walk up the steps and take a deep breath and say “just smell that, mom. I love that smell.”

Fall smells different. It smells orange and red and yellow.
The third thing that Fall means is, I get to remember in a special way, the end of Nano’s life here.

Two years ago yesterday my mama went to Jesus.  Two years ago today was Thanksgiving Monday and it was a beauty over in Calgary.  That’s where we all were, Nano and her three little ones, when Jesus called her name for the last and first time.
Last Here
First There, where He is.
She and Papa have been together again for two years after 27 years apart and I don’t know what they’re doing but it’s good.
I want to talk loudly at you people.
Really, do you want to see Nano someday? More importantly, do you want to see Jesus some day? Turn your whole life over to Him. All of it. If you don’t want to, well you don’t know what you’re going to miss. I yelled that at a friend of mine when I was 12. She knelt down right there in the playground and said she wanted to be with Jesus some day. Not That day of course. But a different day. Her name was Heather and I have no idea where she is now but boy oh boy, when she stands before the throne she cant say it’s all news to her that Jesus is the only way to the Father. I preached it loud back then, when I was wee, as only a 10, 11, 12, 13, year old Can preach it.
Kids used to laugh at me because Papa was the preacher and they promised to beat me up after school, often and I walked a different route, often,
thats for sure. I don’t think Nano and Papa ever called the school to complain or report. Parents didn’t do it back then.
What they did was
be kind. Papa never passed up an opportunity to tell about Jesus.
There was a hockey arena in the next town over. Every once in a while I got to go to a game and there was no heat or insulation and we were under cover but it felt like we were sitting right outside in -30. I loved going because I got to have a hamburger and run around with the other kids.
It could be a bit of a rough crowd, as papa would say, at those games and the language would
“make your hair curl”. (It didn’t take much back then because most people didn’t swear like they do now)
and when the words were swirling around and he just couldn’t
say Nothing
he would turn around and say,
“That is Holy God you are speaking of and He does not want you using His name like you are.”
I’ll tell you that gave them a shock. Usually they grinned and I’m sure they went home later to tell their who’s who, about the crazy guy at the game.  Weird looks and tough glares didn’t bother Papa.  His mission in life was to tell about Jesus and how much He loves everybody He ever made.  Not a single one is without someone to love them.
God does, always and forever and the best and most.

Papa had a bit of a strange name. It was Chesley. Chesley Douglas. Chesley Douglas House.
C.D. for short. His signature was C.D. House. Sometimes people called him Chester. He didn’t care for that and didn’t hesitate to correct the mistake.
I had a teacher in grade ten who called me Pamelia. Believe me when I tell you I never, ever, let that one go.
My name is Pamela and back when I was knee high, nobody knew Pam was an option, so Pamela it was.
Nano’s name was Lena. Lena Isabel Pritchard. I  loved Nano’s name. So pretty and dignified (although back in the day, dignified was not part of my vocabulary)

I’ve told you before that I didn’t even know my parents had names until I had lived four or five years. I thought they both had the same name and that name was
Honey. ♥

Names are a big deal and people work so hard to come up with Juuuuuust the right name for their little ones. I have been known to mutter about names and wonder aloud, “what in the World is wrong with Kathy or suzy or Billy or Johnny”?  I’m not old but some of the new names are, well, in a word, hard.
Anyway,
Names are given by people and of course they are important.
God has quite a few names too.
Abba
Alpha and Omega
El Elyon
El Roi
El Shaddai
Look them up. There are more!  He is an awesome God!
https://bible.org/seriespage/8-names-god

Some days I miss Nano alot,
like when I finished the first knitting project for my new, well almost new, he’ll be new in March, Grandson and I wanted to send her a picture and she would have said
“Oh that’s adorable. Good for you dear”. That’s what she called me,
Dear.
Or like when I was making pastry on the weekend and I totally forgot how to do one of the steps. Up to two years ago I would have gotten on the phone and asked her to remind me and she loved it when I asked.
As the day approached, the anniversary I mean, I wondered if I would sit and cry and feel like an orphan.
I didn’t.
I remembered the family time we had together before she left and I honestly remember it fondly. That month between September 14th and October 11th 2015 was a time I look back on
joyfully.  My brother, my sister, myself and different combinations of family on different days and at various times, together.
It was hard and it was awfully, terribly
good.
In a few months I’m going to have a new name. It won’t replace the name my parents gave me but it will be the name our new little one will call me.
Stay tuned.

Now though, the names I think about when I get up in the morning and when I’m about to sleep,
are the names that define who I am in God’s eyes.
Beloved
daughter
friend
saved
saint
child of God
precious
redeemed (you can look that one up in the dictionary)
called

and I need to get my vegetables on for dinner so I’ll stop there.

♥

Today, This Moment

life, , , ,

 

“But are you sure?”  I asked.

Her smile was kind, encouraging.  “Yes, I’m sure.  I will be fine.”

I hugged her and said “but I don’t want to leave you.  Won’t you be lonely?”

She continued to smile and said “I won’t be lonely.  you go and have fun.”

I somehow got to the car safely, even as I walked forward while looking backward to watch her face for a sign that I was needed.

I was nine and it was 1968.  I remember it vividly and she likely doesn’t remember it at all. Every once in a while my dad would take me on a date to the arena in the next town.  It was a tin building suitable for hanging slabs of beef and not for it’s actual use of seating several hundred fans of the local hockey team.  It was 9 miles away and I loved to go despite the -30 temps and the inevitable, painfully cold feet I would endure in the unheated arena.  Such fun, running around while the game was being played, eating the hamburger and cheering on the “good guys.”  The only shadow over the evening was the concern I felt at leaving Nano home alone.  The thought of her sitting in that living room without us, broke my heart.  Even then I hated leaving her.

There were sleepover invitations and I liked the thought of playing and then sleeping at a friend’s house.  But mostly, not always but mostly, I either needed to go home, or I cried myself to sleep at the thought of my parents at home, sitting together, missing me and me missing them.  Childish, unwarranted fears and even then I hated leaving them.

It was that tug of war,  home and family on one end, friends and adventure on the other.

Leaving has always been my heartbreak and wouldn’t you know it, leaving is what I’ve done much of, it seems.

We have never lived near Blood.  Those years, the ones way back, it was just us.

Five.

I sometimes talk to people who say they aren’t speaking to their relatives.

Blood.

Somebody did something.  Somebody said something.  Somebody missed something,

didn’t send a card

sent the wrong card

didn’t come for dinner

stayed too long after dinner

and I know I’m not to judge.  Bad things happen, sin lives here and people do what they shouldn’t.

Ponder what God says.  It’s what we were created to do.

Live by them.  God’s words.

Don’t tear down bridges and build up walls.

There’s been fighting forever, really.  It’s a shame.

If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.  (Romans 12:18)

It’s been about 38 years since we five lived under the same roof.  Since then we have lived far,  apart and

Even so,

Sometimes my brother annoys me, my sister irritates me, my mother nags me and even from here, across the country, one or the other does something, says something that initiates eye rolling.

Years come and go

I’ve just left my mother, in a little room in a lovely place, in an Alberta city.  She has precious ones  all around

I’m not one of them.  Well, I’m not close but a piece of my heart sits next to her, wherever that is.  Some of you have mothers somewhere other than at arms length and some are gone.

“at least you still have your mother”  you say.  “At least your mother still knows you” and it’s true.

I’m not there and it feels like my heart is being wrung when I say good bye and I remember those nights way back, almost as if God was getting me ready for the Real ‘see you laters’.   Now that she’s in her 94th year and

who knows, really…

Well, who knows, really…about anything?  Not one of us knows what’s next,  or how long until Next arrives.

What a gift God has given us, in words.  They can be used for good, or not.  I read something today and the words were put together by C.S. Lewis.  They went like this.

“Never, in peace or war, commit your virtue or your happiness to the future. Happy work is best done by the man who takes his long-term plans somewhat lightly and works from moment to moment ‘as to the Lord.’ It is only our daily bread that we are encouraged to ask for. The present is the only time in which any duty can be done or any grace received.” —from The Weight of Glory  

I Like it.

Today,

is what matters.  If I’m worried about what happened yesterday or what might happen tomorrow, before I know it I’ll be old and all of my todays will be gone.

Through the years I have heard Nano say on numerous occasions that it would be so terrible to have a fighting family.  How sad she would be if her loved ones did not get along.  If they should choose to hold grudges.  That, as far as her thinking goes, would be a terrible sort of pain and so useless.  How heartbreaking it would be to dishonour our parents and to disregard what we’ve been taught.  Family and loved ones and friends should be kind to one another.  Sounds familiar!

Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.. Eph. 4:32 

My son reminded me a while back of how small the forgiveness is that we might offer compared to the forgiveness that has been offered to us

by God

and although I feel like making excuses it warms my heart as it would my parents hearts, that understanding has been passed along to another generation.   He knows how words can hurt.  I’ve put some together over the years, that have cut him.  My purpose was for good, the outcome was not.  This boy knows the value of forgiveness.  He’s experienced the rewards, the blessing of being forgiven and offering forgiveness.

As Papa often reminded us,

“keep short accounts.”

If there was a problem we fixed it.  If there was sin that needed correcting, it was corrected. If there was hurt borne,  we loved each other and in loving one another we  forgave, even if we didn’t feel like it.  Forgiving was an action of the mind as much as it was of the heart and before I knew it, the forgiveness was heartfelt.

We did it.  We learned to turn the other cheek because it was right and it Is right.  Retaliation made it all so much worse.   We learned to recognize the pain in it.  Not just  with family, but people, souls, walking around on the sidewalks and in the hallways where we walked.

It’s called empathy and it’s good.

Sure I have scars.  Sure my heart weeps when I think of painful and even unfair.  I’ll tell you though,

pain can bring a lot of good.  We like to protect our children from pain.  We shouldn’t. Sadly, pain builds character.  It wasn’t supposed to be that way but it is, in a broken world.

The point.  What’s past is just that and what’s ahead is not known and won’t be known until we get there.  No eye can see around the bend and down the path.

Along with the good ingrained in me there is, not so good.  Worry is Not.

Reading about lives lived by people who have my same inhibitions is like fresh water, a gentle breeze.  Sharing ourselves is good.  I’ll share with you and you share with me and we will encourage and even, when necessary, admonish.    We won’t be angry or crushed because we know it’s good to brush up against thorns every now and again.  Cuts and bruises send us to the one who is best at soothing, healing.

Let’s talk about hard and pain and sweet and laughter and lets be joy filled.

Joy is like a muscle.  The more I exercise it the stronger it gets.

Father’s day is just around the corner.  Mine, my father that is, went Home just over 27 years ago.  He’s there fully and wholly.  When I think of him I think of her.  Nano.  He’s gone and she isn’t and she knows it, every. single. day.  They were together like doesn’t often happen in a lifetime.  Devoted, loving, sharing, modeling, teaching and not always happy but always looking at the only one who gives true joy and even happiness amidst the tribulation of every day.

God cannot give us a happiness and peace apart from Himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing. C.S. Lewis

 

 

“Dear old World’, she murmured, ‘you are very lovely and I am glad to be alive in you” Anne of Green Gables

life, , ,

Here I am again.

It’s a beautiful day and while Nano sleeps I’m sitting,

writing.

She, encompassed by pain, is happy to see me.  Sickness has been her very constant companion in recent weeks and it is not exaggerating or premature to say she is old.  Her body is “wearing out” as one doctor said.  She is worn out.  She sleeps long and often. Her body functions are sluggish at best and life is hard.   Her walker stands close and there is no pride in her when she pushes it down the hall.  She walks to the breakfast room for her piece of whole wheat toast and raspberry jam and barely makes it back before crumpling onto her bed for rest.

Her meals are quite nice looking and I wonder if the cooks here  know how grateful we are for a sprig of parsley.   That simple stem of green makes a plate full of food more appetizing to a 93 year old preacher’s wife with no appetite.

IMG_1970

There is a small dining room  where residents may take their guests.   You get special attention there and it’s next to the big dining room.  Today, Nano and I ate two meals together in that little dining room.  Sometimes people walk through the small dining room on their way ‘home’.  Nano and I were chatting about how delicious our meal had been when a little lady passed by.  She was stooped and fragile looking and she smiled.  We smiled back and said “Hello”.  She replied and a conversation began.  English was not her first language and she knew very few words until she arrived here, from South Africa four years ago and we listened closely.    Her children live here as do her grandchildren and the time was right.  She likes it here and anyway, she knows she can never go back.  Her furniture is gone and all of her things and here she is and I saw tears in her eyes and then there were tears in mine.  Her name is Anna and she is dear.

Then

Nano said

“well, when we have nothing else it’s wonderful to know that we have JESUS.  He loves us very much.

Anna replied, “oh yes, what would we do without Jesus.  I sometimes wonder what I would do without Him”.

And then I was reaching for my kleenex and I thought about how true it is.  Life is hard, especially for these dear ones who are way way past their prime and they are sick and tired and want to be well and know they won’t be, ever again and still, they are glad to be alive in this “Dear Old World”.

It has been suggested that the kitchen staff might cut Nano’s meat before presenting it at her table so she can eat it without struggle.  Her reply, as she krinkles her nose

Oh I don’t know if I want that.  My plate will look messy

And she eats such a few bites of, fish or beef or chicken, that what does it really matter if her plate is messy.   I tell you it surely does matter.  As does the look of her beautiful, never coloured other than what God has given her naturally, silver hair.  It should have received a perm a month ago but a three week stay at the hospital around the corner quashed that plan and today is good because tomorrow is perm day.  It might not ‘take’ well but it will look better.

Her gnarled hands lie in her lap and there is not a moment free from pain and the knitting needles , well used, are packed away.

Never a gal to whine or complain, she was the mother who said when things were going awry, life was throwing a curve, the twisting path became too much,

“oh, you’ll be fine.  It could be worse” and it made me frown and complain (still does) when her support came in the form of correction, admonition, sometimes sounding kind and other times sounding reproachful.

and

I am who I am because of who she is.  I learned to be strong as I watched her and although the strength she exuded was quiet and yes, even submissive, oh it was there.   Her strength was in serving, family and strangers.  She was strong when she modeled mercy, she was strong when she traveled to the other side of the country to visit her ailing parents, with a few dollars in her wallet and not many more left in the bank and she did it because it was good and right and honouring.   I was small and I watched and learned.

We, my sister, my brother and me and let’s not forget the ones who love us, our spouses who have traveled hard with their own parents and are standing close and supporting and we are all working together.

model mercy even though it might not be our gift 

and we love and we care and of course we are obligated and we do it because it is good and right and honouring and not always easy.  We give up other fun and we do it because

God loved us first and this mother loved us next and we love her back and our purpose is to listen and honour.  We watched our parents do it and even though our parents frustrated us and we live life differently than they did and would,

We learned.  They taught us the things that God says are important and one of those things is to honour our parents.

I am here now, for one week and one of these days, “see you later” will turn into “Good Bye for now” and until then we keep encouraging and helping and watching and loving and we leave the rest and the time in the hands of

He who made time and numbered our days

here.  He is to be trusted because His Love is

Greater Than

 

 

I’m Glad You Asked (I’ve been longing to tell you)

life, ,

I’ve been itching to do some writing but in recent days there has been no time for such frivolity.

I mean, I’ve had stuff to take care of, like

being celebrated at a surprise birthday tea, by my daughter and daughter in law and that girls mother and more,

sewing a few dozen aprons, cooking up some meals for my children, organizing a couple of showers (one for a bride to be and one for a mother to be), finally biting the proverbial bullet and going for an official eye exam and then dealing with the subsequent fallout of Real Glasses, (not sure which is worse, not seeing or trying to adjust to a face full of plastic and glass), listening to outpourings of burdens by new friends and attempting to speak wisdom, taking care of the usual business of laundry and fridge cleaning and pansy planting and garbage and recycling and squeezing in a few minutes to far too quickly do my Bible Study homework and organizing a scone and apron open house and hosting a friend from years gone by and

Not going for the walks I need to go for and

Not sitting quietly to listen to the voice of the One who knows me best and

Not spending real time with that same One, to petition on behalf of the ones I love and

Not opening the cover of even one of the books on the ever growing stack waiting for me to begin reading.

I’m considering  Phillippians  4:8 and it goes like this

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things.

I’m also thinking about Solomon and he was very wise.  In Ecclesiastes he says that we should be joyful and do good and that we should eat and drink and take pleasure in our work.  I’m all for that!

I like Joy and Pleasure and I usually like doing good although sometimes I really don’t feel like it.

I’ve been working at these things I’ve been doing because my heart has been filled with a desire to do them.  You see, God gives me the desire to love and share and listen and laugh and He wants to fulfill those desires.  However, He is all about moderation in those passions and desires so that I will remember and not forget that none of them should keep me from quiet waiting, listening to,  watching hard and bowing humbly before

Him.

 


So I’m sitting at Starbucks.  It’s bordered by town and mountains and budding bushes and fertile earth and every time the door opens to allow entrance to a coffee buying customer, in with that customer comes the smell of “fertilizer”.  It’s the kind you spread on the garden or field and you can smell it a long way off.  The smell is not the most pleasant fragrance but it makes me smile.  That’s the country girl in me.  My life has been like that.  Dichotomous!  city and country, happy and sad, strong and weak, loud and quiet, kind and not, organized and a great big mess, truth teller and people pleaser

and maybe we’re all a bit like that.

Today I’m in the East part of West.  I’ve been thinking about gifts and sharing and receiving and my favourite type of all three is

Time.

I’m sharing mine and they, the people I came to see, are sharing theirs.

It’s the best.  It’s investment.  We’ve been talking about the good times and mixed in we’ve been talking about the not so good.

Why should I want That (whatever it might be, but sometimes it’s good and sometimes it’s not) when I have This (which is good some days and others, not really).  They cancel each other out, end up at the same place,

at the crossroads of a choice between

Joy or Not.

Well, here I am, surrounded by beauty and old friends and memories and I am finding joy in the work that’s mine.  It’s different from yours and you might want my job and sometimes I might want yours but I’ve told you before

Bloom.

Now that I’m officially middle aged (I get the seniors discount at Shoppers)  I tend to look back a bit more than I did a few years ago.

There are those who have asked

Why?

when they hear about my apron making.  After all, who wears aprons anymore?  Well as it turns out, there are few more today than there were last week at this time.  I made a room full of aprons and sold quite a few just the other day.  There might be a variety of reasons why those ladies purchased those aprons but I can tell you

we had a great time talking aprons while we ate scones.  It was a warm day and the doors were open wide.  Someone commented that it was appropriate to have the doors open since it was an open house.  I agreed!

So, here it is.  I like to find many and varied ways to bring people together.  We live in a place and time where text messaging and email and instagram posts are far and away the most common forms of communicating.  Oh, I’m one of the worst.  This “device” is never far from my fingertips and partly because I want to share and be shared with.

To have a group, large or small, friends or strangers, in the same room, meeting and sharing and listening and laughing and eating, is a passion of mine.

Come on over, the more the merrier.  Nothing better.  It might be fancy and it might be thrown together but we’ll be real together and it’s gonna be a good time.

When I get to Heaven I hope God assigns me the job of Getting Folks Together.  No nonsense and no putting on of Airs!

Over the past months a few people (quite a few) have sent me the same poem about aprons.  They found it in their internet travels and thought I would appreciate it.  I did and do.

Quite a few years ago my mom sent me a poem that I have kept safe and sound (in a place I knew not, so when I tried to locate it’s whereabouts, it was not to be found).  She sent it at a time when she was, herself, making aprons.  She wore an apron, always and it became a symbol of comfort and even love, for me.

I found the poem a few days ago and here it is

Mother’s Apron

I used to say to Mother when friends were dropping by for tea, “Oh Mother, take your apron off and don’t embarrass me.”  But Mother simply smiled and said, “I will when I get through, But I have need of it just now, there’s work for me to do.”

I argued and apologized and often I opined That wearing aprons gave a hint that one was not refined; But Mother took the restless babe upon her aproned knee, Quite undisturbed by what I said, she rocked on cheerfully.  

And when the older boys came in, a giggling happy lot, My Mother with the babe in arms would stir the old iron pot, And from her kitchen she would bring a dinner, well prepared By loving hands for healthy youths who seldom thought or cared.

And thus to labour and to serve my mother always wore A large, white, crisp apron in the happy days of yore; And when the evening meal was done, I’d say, “Oh Mother, do Take off your apron.”  “She’d reply, “I will when I get through.”

Twas thus the happy years sped on, her children grew and wed, And Mother nursed her grandchildren in her own children’s stead; She always found the time to go to soothe a neighbour’s cough, But never could she find the time to take her apron off.

The corner of her apron served to dry our childish tears; It told each hungry stranger who came shivering to our door, “My apron’s on, I’m here to serve until life’s day is o’er.

So faithfully she worked away, she had so much to do, And always of her aprons said, “I will when I get through.”

And then one night with weary feet she climbed the old home stair, And with a conquering sigh, she sat on her bedroom chair.

And folding up her apron white as she was wont to do, She handed it to me and said, “Well, daughter, I am through.”  And peacefully she entered into rest–so nobly earned.

And as the lonely years passed by, this lesson I have learned:

My mother’s apron symbol was of service for her King.  Now in my treasure chest it lies, a sacred, precious thing.   –Jane Scott

So someone asked a few weeks ago

If the aprons keep their crispness.  No they don’t.

If they fade.  Yes they do.  It’s okay though!  They serve a purpose.  They help keep clothes clean but more important still

They are lovely gifts of hospitality.  They are a token of care and they are good.

One of the first. I've worn it a ton. It's old. It's tattered. It's a favourite.
One of the first. I’ve worn it a ton. It’s old. It’s tattered. It’s a favourite.

Nano doesn’t wear an apron any more.  She doesn’t need it.  She’s hung it up and moved past.  I wish it wasn’t so.  She wishes it wasn’t so because her greatest joy was serving, in one of those aprons of hers.  I loved watching her do what she did, always in an apron.  She isn’t well and we don’t know how much longer she will

Bloom.

She is wilting and that is an understatement but we have the memories of her and her many and varied aprons and we like the memories.  What pleasure it gives her to look at the fabrics I purchase and comment on the beauty of the creations I attempt.

Work is good.  Even mine that doesn’t bring in but a few dollars here and there.   Nano’s work took on a lot of forms and she taught me that the best work is that of

doing what God initiates in your heart.

A desire.  What could ever be better than a passion put there by the one who made

Me

You.

He did, you know,

give us desires designed to please Him and

bring us joy.

The desires He gives are good but not best.  He is Best and I know it but often choose

other than.  I’m tired and the leftover time and energy is available for Him.

He deserves More.  By Far.

Work is good and I’m thankful for mine.  I want to use my work to glorify Him.

So when I wake up in the morning and say

Okay God, I have no idea what today holds but I’m deciding to do whatever it is as it comes and I’ll remember that I am yours and you put the desires in my heart.

While I’m Doing

I will choose to remember that desires are God given but not to be bigger than my

desire for You.

Psalm 20:4 May he grant you your heart’s desire and fulfill all your plans!“

Matthew 22:37 You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.