I have an aviary today, sort of.

If you keep up, you know that I would LIKE a finch aviary, because I would never watch tv again, I would lose weight since I wouldn’t care about eating, AND, I would lose my “au naturel” frown that I have developed over time while I stare at the computer because I would smile all the time staring at sweet birds instead.

But I have an aviary today, sort of.

It’s actually my upstairs window. The window is closed, but on the other side there are no less than a dozen flies of varying sizes, from the monsters that are like little 747s in the bathroom when you least expect to be buzzed in the morning, to the tiny ones that are SO annoying and too fast for a swatter. They are trapped between my glass window and the screen that keeps them from afternoon sun and freedom.

I am pretending that they are zebra finches and lady gouldian finches and parrot finches and I am making up cute chirping noises in my head.

Entertainment is MADE in small town USA, I tell ya. Not provided, MADE.

*****

I am grateful for Romans 8:38-39. After yesterday’s tragedy, I needed to read and re-read. This is peace in the middle of confusion and fear and despair. This is hope.

And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.

*****

Yesterday, I drove the 5+ hour drive west, back to small town USA, and for the first couple of hours, I had a dull ache in my stomach. It was an ache of “I don’t wanna leave the comfort and familiarity of the city and its ways, and stores, and people, and our church.” I love Kansas City. It has been a safe home for me for five years.

But then, in the third hour, I noticed that the ache was dissipating slightly, and I began to enjoy the drive and the view. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon and the Flint Hills were rolling and a great contrast to the vast blue sky. I loved seeing the fields harvested and yet to be harvested and imagined the parked combines and grain trucks were due to a Chiefs game on tv.

In the fourth hour and beyond, I was so aware of how in the span of a few hours, my outlook changed once more, and I was watching the mile signs closely, anticipating being HOME, back in small town USA, back to a simpler life and schedule. As the sun set and the temperature dropped, my longing for our new home increased, and I LOVED feeling like I couldn’t wait to get there.

*****

http://cor.org/leawood/sermons#d/sermon/14891/cor_l

This message made me cry.

This message made me proud.

This message lit a fire.

And the Heartland Men’s Chorus that sang afterwards made me want to stand and shout. If you want to know what I am talking about, you really should free up your Friday evening… I have played Mark Hayes piano music for 30 years. I wonder if I could convince Sam to take a 5 hour drive on Friday afternoon.

The Chorus will present From the Heart, a concert of HMC’s greatest hits on Friday, November 10 at 7:30 PM in the stunning new sanctuary of the United Methodist Church of the Resurrection, Leawood, Kansas. Composer/pianist Mark Hayes will be featured, accompanying pieces he has written for HMC and presenting piano selections from his latest album.

*****

I am grateful for my imagination.

I am grateful for a sealed window.

I am grateful that I love BOTH of my hometowns, that I am not emotionally running away from one to another, that I miss one when I am gone but love the one I am in at the time. Bloom where you are planted.

I am grateful for peaceful five hour drives and beautiful scenery.

I am grateful for the nudging of the Holy Spirit during some invaluable teaching by our pastor.

I am grateful for continual reformation.

I am grateful for beautiful music that prompts tears to flow and a heart to burst with joy.

I am grateful for time spent with my dad at a great movie on Friday night, time spent with my CASA girl on Saturday, time spent with our small group on Sunday morning after church, and time spent with Truly Julie at the hospital on our drive back west.

It was a fulfilling weekend, for certain.

This is my friend, Julie, and her three adorable daughters.

Today is Julie’s birthday and she is spending it in a nice, comfortable hospital bed, complete with tubes and beeps and a beautiful gown with a bow all tied.

Her heart is bigger than Dallas and for that, I am so very grateful and privileged to know firsthand.

It is also a little ill and being tended to by a cardiologist, nurses, and a loving family.

I am grateful for a lady who has anxiety about a crowd of unknown people, just like me, so that we attracted and friended in a corner of a big room in Colorado one summer.

I am grateful she loves birds more than I do, because her love is contagious, and I caught it.

I am grateful that she taught me how to Facetime.

I am grateful that when I am around her, I feel loved and I feel normal.

I am grateful that her husband kind of sort of works with my husband – otherwise, we would have never met.

I am grateful that David treats her like a princess and is not leaving her bedside because he loves her truly.

I am grateful that she has three girls who I’m sure are in her hospital room with her, making her feel very loved and special right now. I can imagine the wisecracks but I can also imagine the heartwarmth.

I am grateful she has parents and in-laws who are supportive and helpful in her absence and love those girls fiercely.

I am grateful that she is my friend and is where she needs to be on this birthday.

Happy birthday, dear Julie. Much love and prayers…from me to you.

I am grateful for good advice…BEFORE I need it, not after.

I am grateful for paper towels.

I am grateful when the electricity finally comes back on, which makes me grateful for those guys who do that job.

I am grateful for howling wind because it makes me grateful I am inside and warm.

In order for this to happen, I would like a winning lottery ticket or a genie in a bottle.

I am grateful for good friends who don’t just offer but actually drive 3-5 hours to come and help us with our new addition, and I am grateful for the anticipation of a very fun and productive weekend.

I am grateful for wonderful news via two different text messages today from a former student and friend, and from Sam’s former nurse and friend. The first message, this morning:

“I’m pregnant!!”  

And then, this afternoon:

“I’m getting married!!”

I am grateful for letters mailed.

I am grateful for the smell of Lysol.

I am grateful for heartbreaking news that is a constant reminder of our need to be Jesus to others through ACTION instead of saying “Let me know if there is anything I can do.”

I am grateful for suppertime.

I am grateful for this song and the words that have been going through my internal jukebox all day:

He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater,
He sendeth more strength when the labors increase;
To added afflictions He addeth His mercy,
To multiplied trials, His multiplied peace.

When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources
Our Father’s full giving is only begun.

Fear not that thy need shall exceed His provision,
Our God ever yearns His resources to share;
Lean hard on the arm everlasting, availing;
The Father both thee and thy load will upbear.

His love has no limits, His grace has no measure,
His power no boundary known unto men;
For out of His infinite riches in Jesus
He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again.

I am grateful that I found an envelope this week that my sister sent a few years ago with Five Wishes, a document I need to fill out for my end-of-life wishes. I’m working on it, Angela.

I am grateful for a clean phone screen.

I am grateful for fresh breath, once again. I know I have used this one before, but people, come on. Fresh breath attracts instead of repels. Listerine. Minty fresh Crest. Scope. Certs. SOMETHING, for cryin’ out loud.

And finally this evening, I am grateful for just one more reason to work on convincing Sam that I need a nursing home finch aviary in our home, without the nursing home, but with the finches.

Here is my solution to yesterday’s problem of computer-generated frown lines.

It definitely makes me smile more.

This morning, I got into the vehicle in the dark of the morning, pre-fall back time, and as I turned the corner to head east, my breathing ceased. That dawn pink and purple and orangy blue…ahhhhh.

It was stunning.

I am so so so grateful that Sam taught me to be an early riser to appreciate the new day’s beauty and gift from above.

I am so so so grateful for the best surprise of forgetting that I changed my background at the end of the day yesterday so that when I turned on my screens this morning, I was greeted with the most beautiful smiles from my most favorite girls in the whole world.

I am so so so grateful that my world is filled with beauty, from autumn leaves to sweet dog faces to a white moth orchid in the kitchen window to computer screens big with smiles and eyes that only their daddy and I have known from the moment they entered this world.

I am so so so grateful for lady bug wing design, the shine of chrome, cashmere softness, stained wood all polished, a sheet of warm cookies cooling on the stove, clean carpet with vacuum lines, rainbow bubbles, and little girl light up shoes.

I am so so so grateful that even though my face needs some smile work, my eyes are working just fine, fine enough to notice all of the blessings God places right in front of me all the day long…

I sat at lunch and had a conversation with a co-worker who happens to be a makeup artist. Serious. This is just one of her examples from a college course.

We talked about concealer and nose bridges and eye lash extensions and minerals and hoods on eyes and liner length for small eyes…

We talked about the most beautiful woman in the world (in my books), a woman who has had MAJOR plastic surgery done on her face to make her look NOTHING like she looked as God made her.

This afternoon, we had our weekly conference room meeting that has, in the past six months, gone from using a polycom in the center of the table for communicating with remote attendees, to video conferencing, allowing remote attendees to feel like they are in the room so that everyone can see everyone.

What I have noticed, however, is that when I am sitting in the office conference room and look on the TV screen at the dual screens showing our New York recruiter on the right and all of us sitting at the conference table on the left, there is a familiar face staring back at me who has become OLD and always has this FROWN, even though the familiar face is attempting to smile.

I am TRYING to smile, and what I see, is me sitting there in all my vain glory, with these HORRID frown lines. Bigger than Dallas.

WHAT HAPPENED.

I’ll tell you what happened. This computer happened. In my line of work these days, I no longer have to force myself to wear a smile while I work. How ridiculous would it be for me to stare at a computer screen all day long and smile big! for hours. I don’t greet customers any longer. I don’t teach kids in class any longer. I make no presentations any longer. I research and study and type. And that doesn’t require a smile uniform.

I’m a happy person, generally. I love my job. I love what I do. I am satisfied in this season. I’ve got the joy joy joy joy down in my heart.

Just not on my face, apparently.

I suppose on this day in particular, I could scare little kids with my scowl.

So today, I am grateful for video conferencing detectors, revealing the ugly truth of aging.

I am grateful for cubicles in the back of an office to hide away Broom-Hilda.

And I am grateful, even though I have discovered my vanity today, that I have not spent thousands of dollars on plastic surgery or on boat loads of makeup.

Mostly au naturel, I say, just as God made me.

That’s how many gratefuls I aspire to share…

I am grateful that Sam is doing what he loves and I am grateful for kernels of corn in his pockets at the end of a long day.

I am grateful for the crisp on fried chicken.

I am grateful for progress.

I am grateful for a small town USA grocery store that still believes in carrying groceries to the car for its customers.

I am grateful for Lurch and Morticia, our creepy grasses and only Halloween decorations this year.

I am also grateful that the grandchildren evidence is still on that cracked sidewalk, black holes from Independence Day snakes.

And I am grateful for that beautiful chime that hangs above the steps on the porch, a gift from Karen and Ken when Sam’s Dad passed away.

I am grateful for tears of remorse and forgiveness and grateful for a soft heart.

I am grateful for an artful gift from my sister that hangs in our entry.

I am grateful that my brother’s thumb is still attached today.

I am grateful for the writers of “This is Us.” The world is a better place because of your talent.

I am grateful for a late October warm day before the cold arrives tomorrow.

I am grateful that the cold arrives tomorrow and the box elders will hibernate.

I am grateful for small town USA plumbers and painters and remodelers who just open our door and say, “Hello???”

I am grateful for a quiet drive in the country at lunch time.

I am grateful for my new laundry room.

I am grateful for clean socks.

I am grateful that I can hear the sounds of a group of kids playing in the city park across the street on this late Wednesday afternoon. It is a glorious sound.

I am grateful for boilers that work and 100-year-old house radiators that are radiating.

I am grateful for connection to my grandchildren and the ache in my heart as I miss them.

I am grateful for quiet moments this morning in prayer.

I am still grateful for the musical “Singing in the Rain.” When there are not enough smiles, this one will inspire.

I am grateful that I can follow instructions and set up a new printer without having to call my brother or an 800 number.

And I am grateful for new pillows.

Yesterday, so many things made the day one of my favorite days. I was able to get that husband of mine to sleep in past 5:30 am for a change, and we made it a leisurely start to the day with sunshine and CBS Sunday morning. When he realized the time and he was 3 ½ hours past normal project pace, he exclaimed in his classic farmer accent, “It’s Sunday mornin’! THIS is a SIN!”

Hearty har har har.

My norm these days involves daily affirmations from that husband of mine, like:

“Life is wonderful with you.”

“Darlin’, you are the best.”

“How’s my beautiful wife?”

DAILY. I am blessed. But I digress…

As we were enjoying the morning, temporarily free from obligations and projects, that husband of mine verbally and romantically dreamed his dreams that he dreams…

“This is like a quiet winter morning, snow falling, just the two of us here at home, a good time to cuddle up on the couch with blankets, all cozy in front of a fire in the fireplace, and cornbread…”

HUH.

CORNBREAD?!

I began giggling that turned into hearty laughter that turned into tears running down my cheeks funny. Here he was, trying to be all sweet and romantic. WHAT IN THE WORLD. Cornbread?!

I will never eat cornbread without thinking of me splitting a gut and that husband of mine sheepishly saying, “I guess cornbread was the wrong thing to say…so much for being romantic…I’ll never be able to eat cornbread ever again…”

After I composed myself once again, we headed over to our newest acquisition to finish the demo project that my Dad had started, pulling smelly old carpet out of a house that is catty-corner to a Lutheran church here in small town USA. The church parking lot was full and as we walked into the house, their church bells began ringing, a reminder that we were not in church but also a reminder that we were experiencing a day of rest and worship in an alternative way. Even in our pew absence, I sensed a good feeling of worship as we worked, and it was so good. It was one of those Holy Spirit moments in the ordinary of life…

We didn’t stay long, and that husband of mine went off to do what he loves – fall harvest. That left me at home, by myself, on a weekend day, FOR THE FIRST TIME IN I CANNOT REMEMBER.

When that husband of mine got home on Sunday evening, his first question, bless his heart, was,

“Did you MISS me?!”

And I had to answer truthfully.

“No. No, I did not miss you, Sam I am.”

I enjoyed this quiet house with no construction and no other humans. I enjoyed going outside and planting some seeds in the flower beds. I enjoyed doing laundry and ironing without having to stop to contemplate paint color and measurements and what-would-you-thinks-if-we-did-this’s. I enjoyed not having to engage in conversation for a few hours. I enjoyed putting my new laundry room in order just like I want it. I enjoyed sitting on the porch swing, watching the leaves fall, listening to the kids playing in the park across the street. I enjoyed sitting at the computer and watching 5:00 church from home, worshiping with Lance and Cheryl and Adam.

But by 7:00 pm, I was ready for that husband of mine to come back home. We were going to roast hot-dogs in our front yard, but instead, we stood on ladders and hung a light, we added door hooks in the laundry room, and we ate baked potatoes and watched a little football.

“Husband of mine, life is wonderful with you.”

“You are the best.”

Yesterday was mostly easy. Easy like Sunday morning. It was one of my favorite days.

On this Friday, I am grateful.

• For a message this morning about looking for the flowers instead of the weeds. For example: instead of looking at a counter or sink full of dirty dishes, look at the fact that a meal was shared, there was food for everyone, and there is an opportunity to put forth effort to make the sink empty and the counter clean, another item crossed off the list.

• For a yard speckled with autumn yellow leaves.
• For the sound of breeze whistling through the upstairs window screens.
• For the sweet, sweet sounds of little Natia having a dream while she sleeps at my feet.
• For a dusty shirt worn by Sam, evidence that he is working hard during this fall harvest.
• For the satisfying feeling of an Ama package on its way to Washington for two little girls.
• For new stamps, ready for cards to write.

When you eat a Subway sandwich and don’t order any chips, it takes away the goodness of the sandwich. Might as well have stayed home and eaten a leathery orange and a piece of cold toast.

Blessing #1: Small town USA actually HAS a Subway sandwich shop.

When the neighbor decides it is such a beautiful October afternoon, it’s a great day to cut BEDROCK for all the neighborhood to enjoy, too.

Blessing #2: Said neighbor is finally working on his very neglected yard.

When the afternoon shadows on my desk are from the beautiful upstairs sunny window and are actually dozens of box elder bugs creepy crawling all over the window screens.

Blessing #3: While I see black and red creepy crawlies that give me the shivers, I also see beautiful yellowing leaves fluttering to the ground in the front yard, and for a minute or two, it makes me forget about the living shadows that have invaded our exterior.

When remodeling requires the doors to be open, allowing Marty McFly and all of his relatives to visit me while I work upstairs.

Blessing #4: Fly swatters.

When there are not headphones strong enough to block out nail clipper sounds.

Blessing #5: Bedrock cutting sounds – it’s better than nail clipper sounds.

There is almost nothing worse for lunch than fixing a Chinet plate of smoked ham sandwich with the soft bread and the smoky ham and the crispy Romaine and the Hellman’s and two big slices of Claussen’s sandwich sliced dill pickles…

…only to discover on the first bite that the dills are not dills at all.

BLECH.

I am not very happy with the person who invented bread and butter nastiness and thought it would be funny to  inflict it on the rest of us unsuspecting dill pickle lovers. Why couldn’t they color those things PINK or something, since they have cotton candy flavor in them?! Then we could all tell that they are unnatural sweet, like PICKLES ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE.

Bread and buttah belong in the guttah.

However, I AM grateful for Chinet plates during kitchen remodels.

And I AM grateful for Claussen DILLS, for which I shall be purchasing with a keen eye on the label, the next trip to the grocery store.

And I AM grateful for soft bread and smoky ham.

And I AM grateful that there was just enough Hellman’s left in the squeeze bottle for my sandwich.

And I AM grateful that because it is box-elder-bug-white-house-loving season again, they are on the other side of the screened windows while I work and eat my de-pickled sandwich.

And I AM grateful that my Dad is here, along with two really great guys who know how to kitchen remodel while Sam and I are at work.

And I AM grateful that Sam can drink things with ice now and that he doesn’t have to wear gloves on cool morning walks or in order to touch cold or metal things. He can handle a COLD dill pickle jar, woo hoo.

And I AM grateful for memories of CBA concession stands when crazy students actually paid money for little cups of frozen DILL pickle juice. Fundraising entrepreneurs, for sure.

And one more thing. I AM grateful for tacos, especially tacos without pickles. Tacos should not have anything to do with pickles.