Author: marebear (Page 2 of 11)

“When I look at thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars which thou hast established; what is man that thou art mindful of him, and the son of man that thou dost care for him?” Psalms 8:3-4

I don’t know my Bible verse by verse, especially the Old Testament, but I am grateful for theologians who put verses on the Internet. After experiencing the total eclipse of the Sun, I looked up verses regarding the universe. Science has always been my worst subject, so I appreciate scientists who study God’s creation. Unlike ancient peoples, I was not afraid of what was happening as the sky darkened. Scientifically, I understood it. I had the proper glasses to prevent blindness. It was extremely interesting, but not scary to me.

The sky gradually darkened, but it didn’t get dark like the night. We could see some stars, but not very many. The temperature cooled, and a breeze came up. The horizon looked like a typical sunrise or sunset, but it was the middle of the day. Professional and amateur scientists took pictures of the sun as it appeared to wane and wax. Layman that I am, I just watched as the Earth became different and then the same again.

I have never thought there has to be animosity between theologians and scientists. I don’t know how God created everything, but I believe that He did. God slowly reveals His creation to us, and I can’t help but be in awe of what He does and how insignificant I am in the realm of infinity and eternity. The vastness of His creation is overwhelming.

Those few minutes of twilight made me wonder how long life on Earth could exist without the Sun. It would not take long for every living thing to perish. I put my faith in the eternal home which He promises us because we will all leave Earth at some point. I live a little life, and I like it that way, but sometimes I need a reminder like an eclipse to remind me of the greatness of God.

 This week is Holy Week for us Christians. During Lent, I focused on the end of Jesus’s life on Earth. This always makes me sad, but to me, Lent is about recognizing our sins and appreciating what He went through to save us from ourselves. I never want to think that He had to do what He did because of me, but I am no better than any other human. I can relate to some of the actions and inactions of the twelve apostles when things went badly.

First, Jesus told them that one of them would betray him, but they didn’t want to believe it. Judas knew he was the one, of course, but the others thought they would handle things better than they did. I try to be loyal to people, but I sometimes fail.

When Jesus prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane, he asked the apostles to “watch and pray,” but they kept falling asleep because “their eyes were very heavy” (Mark 14:38, 40). I have felt not just heavy eyes, but an entire heavy body. I remember hearing my babies cry in the middle of the night, knowing that they were more important than anything in my life, but not being able to move at first. The disciples didn’t fully understand what was going to happen to Jesus even though He had told them, but I knew that if I didn’t get out of bed to take care of my babies, they could get hurt or sick.

When Jesus was arrested, whipped, mocked, and ultimately crucified, many of the disciples ran and hid. Peter denied knowing Him. Fear is a powerful thing. There have been times fear held me back from being with someone going through something horrible. When I was in my twenties, a friend/former coworker told me her cancer came back. I told her I was sorry. I didn’t know what else to say or do, so I didn’t do anything. I didn’t keep in touch with her. I didn’t check on her. I didn’t help her family. I went to her funeral feeling guilty for not being there for her while she was still alive. I can only imagine what the apostles felt during Jesus’s suffering and death. The fear, grief, and guilt must have been crippling.

The good news is that Jesus forgave the apostles. He knew that when He rose from the dead, they would understand why He allowed himself to be sacrificed. He knew He would send the Holy Spirit to them so that they could go forward to spread His word. He forgives us too. We all have access to the Holy Spirit. We all can step out of our comfort zones to help others through difficult times. We can stay awake to watch and pray. We can do better than we have in the past. We will never be perfect, but we can keep trying to improve. Have a blessed Holy Week and Easter.

A family story goes like this: My uncle wanted to take my grandmother to a Mass for the elderly. She refused to go because she said it was for old people. My uncle reminded her that she was “no spring chicken.” We all laughed about it, but I’m beginning to understand why she didn’t go.

I recently joined two community centers near my house. One is for the general public, and one is specifically for senior citizens. I fully qualify for the senior citizen one. I am old enough to be there, but I believe I am one of the youngest members.

Don’t get me wrong. These are very active senior citizens. The exercise classes fill up quickly, there were a dozen or more of us at the last book club meeting, and there are always puzzles, games, and other activities available. I just haven’t found where or if I fit there yet.

I’m not sure when the term “tween” came to be. It means that awkward time between ten and thirteen years old. Children of that age are not little anymore, but they are not teenagers either. I can relate.

I think it is time to make up a new word. My new word is “twelderly.” Before retiring, I was one of the oldest employees at any of my schools. Now I find I’m one of the youngest people at the senior citizen center. I know I am a senior citizen, but I don’t yet feel elderly.

I love being with people regardless of how old they are, but I find that I am at a strange stage of life. I plan to keep going to both community centers to make new friends of all ages. Being twelderly is not so bad.

            After working in education for over twenty years (including volunteering), I recently retired. I have had several reactions from people over the years when I told them what I did. Most people thanked me. Some snubbed me when I told them I was a teacher’s aide as opposed to a certified teacher. Some would say that they could never do it. The latest response was, “Bless your heart.”

            I live in the West, but the woman who said it had a soft southern accent. I’m told that in the Northeastern part of the U.S., if someone blesses your heart, they really want to bless you. After having lived for a few years in the South, though, I know it has a slightly different meaning there.

            A Southern woman might really want to bless you, but she blesses you because she thinks you are silly or stupid for doing whatever it is you did. This is a well-known phenomenon.

            When I heard it the other day, it reminded me of the lady who trained me for my first real job which was not in education. We were all Midwesterners there, and she described another person she trained as “a nice girl, but kinda dumb.” That is how I felt walking out after having my heart blessed. I laughed on the way to my car thinking, “That woman thinks I’m a nice girl, but kinda dumb.”

            To all of you who work in education, bless you. Truly. You are not silly or stupid for doing it. God has called you to do what you do. I know it is hard. I know it doesn’t pay well. I know you are often disrespected, but you are providing services that many people could or would not provide. I probably helped at least 1000 children over the years. Most of them won’t remember me specifically, but I hope they remember that someone truly cared about them. For the time I spent with them, they were seen, heard, and loved. Not many professions can claim that on a resume.

The Christmas tree is up, Hallmark movies are on, and Christmas music is a constant, but there are more important parts of Christmas. The tree is big and bright, but the Nativity Scene has its own small light. The Advent Calendar has little books that tell the compelling story of a young couple struggling to follow laws and have a baby at the same time. This was not a baby like any other, though. This baby was and is the Son of God. But no pressure, right?

I try to imagine myself in Mary’s place. Young, newly married, pregnant, and forced to travel close to term. Let’s not forget Joseph either. It was up to him to provide for and protect his new family. After the birth and the Magi gifts, they fled to a new country. How must they have felt when they found out what happened to the families with young sons who were left behind?

 Their lives were not easy, but no one’s is. I personally know couples who are currently going through IVF to try to have children, I know a couple who recently miscarried a baby, I know a young couple who had premature twins who are struggling to survive and hopefully thrive, and I know a teenager who had an unplanned baby this year. None of this is easy. We often wonder why God allows what He allows. Why does a teenager get pregnant when married couples can’t? Why are some babies born too soon and others never born at all? We know why He warned Joseph to flee to Egypt, but why did He allow all those other boys to be killed?

I’m sorry to say I don’t have answers except that God says, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways.” (Isaiah 55:8-9) We think in terms of our lifetimes. He thinks in terms of eternity. Faith in God does not stop difficult things from happening, but it helps us deal with them. This Advent and Christmas Season, I pray daily for those going through difficult, even heartbreaking, situations. I hope that they look to Saints Mary and Joseph for inspiration and help. I pray that their faith in God carries them through.

Many years ago, my husband’s grandmother handed down some Hummel figurines. They were made in his grandfather’s homeland of Germany. We were honored that she entrusted them to us. They were family keepsakes—a boy with some deer next to him, a pair of figurines with a boy and a girl sitting on fences, and one of a boy and girl playing instruments.

When we got them home, we weren’t sure where to put them. We didn’t have a China cabinet or anything like that, so we carefully wrapped them in tissue paper and put them in a box. We moved from that state to another, but we still didn’t have a good place to display them. We decided we would have to get a small display case soon.

However, shortly after moving to our new state, we had children. We certainly could not put family heirlooms out for display with toddlers running around, so in the box the Hummels stayed. Sadly, we stopped thinking about where to show off our lovely family treasures. We were too busy raising real children to worry about where to display porcelain ones.

Several moves occurred in the ensuing years. Our children became adults, but our Hummel kids looked as young as ever. Recently, we made what we believe to be the last big move of our lives to yet another state. While unpacking boxes, I came across our old/still young friends. As I write this, they are sitting on a bookshelf to my left. Every time I see them, I remember the sweet little lady who gave them to us. She never complained, she loved chocolate, and she loved her family. I have thought of her over the years, but now I think of her every time I look at our Hummels.

I’m sorry it took us decades to take them out of the box. In these digital times, physical items that our ancestors held in their hands have more value than any virtual thing. Sure, things are still just things, but they link one generation to the next, and they can invoke memories of special times and special people.

It started as small as any other seed and didn’t know what it was at first. It looked around and learned that it grew much slower than other seeds. After a while, it also learned that other plants grew quickly, but also didn’t live very long. It learned to be patient and accept itself as it was. It saw many animals come and go over the years—coyotes, rabbits, snakes, javelinas, and roadrunners. Some birds loved to peck at it, and others made their homes in it. Occasionally humans would come by, but they didn’t stay.

It was just one straight, but strong, thing for a long time, but one day it felt some other part grow out of its side. By this time, it knew exactly what it was and had been waiting for a long time to look like others of its kind. It was especially excited every Spring when it got to bloom.

Decades, maybe a century, later humans came along and dug it up. It was scared at first to leave its natural home, but the humans were careful to replant it facing the sun and sky as it always had. It didn’t see as many animals as it had before, but there were more humans around. It soon discovered that humans grew much faster than it did. Every time its human family had a special occasion, they stood in front of it and took pictures of each other.

One human, in particular, was special to it. She started out very, very small, and she could not stand up like other humans. In some pictures, she was dressed in pretty clothes, and in some she had just been out playing beside it. In some pictures, her face looked a little funny because some of those white things were missing, but she soon grew new ones. As she grew taller, she also grew more beautiful, and it was proud to be part of the pictures that included her. It seemed as if the years made them each stronger and more ready to face whatever might happen.

But even plants of its kind can’t live forever. One day it didn’t feel quite right. It could tell it was leaning a bit more than usual, and something felt very wrong at its bottom. Its human family tried to save it, but one day it could stand no more. They were very sad when it happened, and other humans came by to say how sorry they were. It had been a part of the neighborhood for many years, and people had always admired it.

The girl would continue to grow, but there would be no new pictures taken in front of it. Still, it had lived a long time and was satisfied. It had been everything it was supposed to be.

The other evening, I muted the news on TV so I could listen to Dolly Parton’s version of “Let it Be.” Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr sang backups. There was such a juxtaposition of what I was hearing with what I was seeing that it was almost spiritual. Dolly has a peaceful voice, and the lyrics are so uplifting, but the pictures I saw and headlines I read were disturbing. I try to keep up with what is happening in the world, but it can be depressing, and these days, confusing.

I read, watch, and listen to the news from various outlets. News reporting today is not like it used to be. I wrote for my high school newspaper, and I remember our teacher reprimanding us when we added flourish when we should have just been reporting facts without opinions. I know I sound like a female old geezer, but I miss Walter Cronkite. He was someone most Americans trusted to report on occurrences without adding his personal thoughts. It was like watching an episode of “Dragnet” when the detective said, “Just the facts.”

Now we need “fact checkers,” and I recently read that we can’t even trust them anymore. I can attest that “fact vs. opinion” is still being taught in schools. Children are taught to look for words that indicate which statements are fact and which opinion, but if the writers can’t be trusted, then how do we teach the children what is real and what is fake? Many news writers, especially on social media, write in such a way that something sounds like fact, but may not be true. Even as an educated adult, it is difficult to determine fact from half-truths or outright lies.

I felt dejected and discouraged. All I could think was, “How do we know what is true and what isn’t these days?” Then, driving to work the next morning I saw a woman standing on a corner holding a giant sign. It read, “Jesus is the Truth.” That is all I need to know.

            I am told I have an eye and a knack for catching moments in pictures. I once made my cousin pull off the side of the road so that I could take a picture of sunlight filtering through trees bespeckling a country road. She thought I was crazy, but she stopped anyway. I have captured thousands of moments over the years, some better than others, but the ones that I think of the most are the ones that are just in my memory.

            I remember riding the school bus to my high school and spotting a lumbering cow through heavy fog. It was the grayish lack of color and the calmness of the way the animal moved that made it beautiful. Sometimes I see complete strangers do something that I would love to capture in a photo. Riding a train to downtown Chicago, I looked out the window at the exact moment a woman stepped onto her back porch and shook out a rug. The sunlight hit the dust just right so that an uncountable number of reflections shimmered in the air. It was a small glimpse into her life while she did a simple task, yet the result was spectacular in my eyes.

            Driving down a tree-lined gravel road in Nebraska, we reached a clearing, and I looked out to see a real-life cowboy riding his horse. Just like in the movies, he caught his hat above his head as the horse galloped through a meadow. What a shot that would have been!

            From small towns to big cities to country roads, there is beauty everywhere. See it, frame it, appreciate it, remember it. Moments are precious. Moments string together to make a life, and we never know when one of our moments will create a special moment for someone else.

Anyone who knows me personally knows that my husband and I are trying to sell our house in one state to pay for a new one in another state. We talk about our plans all the time. We plan to rent in our current state between the houses. We plan to live with relatives in the new state for a short time.

We recently had a phone call with a financial advisor. He asked several good questions, but nearly every answer was, “We don’t know.” Finally, we just postponed the meeting for at least six months.

We plan, and plan, and plan, but I can’t help but think of Proverbs 16:9 “A man’s mind plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.” Even when we don’t plan to make major changes in our lives, we do not know what is going to happen. We think that if we stay the course (live in the same house, keep the same job, not make major purchases), our lives will continue in the same way. The truth is that we never really know what is going to happen.

Just about anything can happen at any time. I have known this at some level for a long time, but lately it is more prevalent. Daily rain is delaying construction on the new house. A contract on the current house was cancelled. Medical issues have come up. It is in times like these when I rely on my faith. If I can get myself to not worry about what will happen and just let the Lord direct my steps, I know we will be okay.

In the meantime, I have started packing boxes. I am encouraged by Proverbs 16:3 “Commit your work to the Lord, and your plans will be established.” If the Lord wants us to move, it will happen. If not, then I will have to commit to unpacking boxes where I am and trust that I am where I am supposed to be.