Control, the concept, crops in my mind often lately. I am realizing, I
have none. I strive to have it, even if I say, God is in control. I am
not alone.
In Summer Triangle, my main character, Maria,
wrestles with control of her family. I, as a mother, incorporated my own
desiring of control. I wanted the clean home, but always fought that
battle with time in, working full time. Maria controlled her home when
she was able to go part time. But she still worried about her children.
As a mother I feel responsible for the family's health, happiness,
future and being godly adults.
I was talking about my dad
yesterday to a co-worker. The stress of healthcare leads sometimes to
unhealthy habits. He was going to smoke a cigarette. Surprised, I asked
him about this, as I didn't think he smoked. He doesn't, but when stress
takes over, he gives in. I recalled my senior year of nursing school,
with my mother seeming to be dying, planning a wedding anyways and the
pressure of nursing, I turned to Virginia Slims. Yet, the habit never
stuck because my dad in his nonjudgmental manner kept it from taking
over me. Dad was like Aslan, he could attack, but mostly he controlled
it with love. We knew that, not with a fear, but respect of his power as
a man.
As an adult, when David and I lived with my parents for a
time, I sat at the breakfast table with Dad one morning, alone. He could
hardly articulate his fear. He couldn't control life or how he may be
as an old man, if his mind went. Having to place his mother-in-law in a
nursing home weighed on him. As a family, though, with his wife also in
ill health, Grandma couldn't live at home any more. I think he also
remembered great Uncle Dave, an ornery old man at times, a bachelor who
tried to rule our house.
Jacob, from the Bible, also comes to my
thoughts. I read the account of his return to his homeland. He worried
about meeting his brother, scheming and planning the approach. Esau, ran
to his brother with open arms. As my children were young, I shielded
them from the world, when maybe I should have embraced people more.
Would more people have known Jesus if I hadn't hid? A convicting moment
stirred up thoughts that morning.
The last few years show me what I
always said, God is in control. We pray, but we don't control God. He
wants to hear from us, but He still knows the whole scope. He knows the
vase He is forming. We are to yield.
I read Job in the Bible, too,
many times, trying to figure this all out. Hard times come. Like Job,
we do want to know why. Job was not a silent sufferer. A cosmic bet in
the first two chapters threw Job's controlled life into turmoil. At the
end of the book, God does not have to explain Himself and we are not to
explain Him, either. A life of control never promised. Yet, in a belief,
Job prays for his friends and he is blessed. Even if we are not blessed
in this life, we are to obey God and care for others.
A friend
encountered a storm of large proportions. She questions religion, faith
and God. In her anger, any words about faith would not comfort, like
they do for believers. But sometimes, those words ring hallow for
believers, too, if we are honest. One lesson I learned from reading Job
so many times, is his friends should have just remained silent. We offer
a hand, our hearts, but words are overrated.
Psalm 131:2 But I
have stilled and quieted myself, just as a small child is quiet with its
mother. Yes like a small child is my soul within me.
Jesus said
we must be like a child to enter the Kingdom of God. We need to quiet
ourselves to hear the peace and comfort from God. Quit asking, "Are we
there yet?" Relax and trust Dad to know where we are going.
Monday, June 9, 2014
Losing Control
Control, the concept, crops in my mind often lately. I am realizing, I have none. I strive to have it, even if I say, God is in control. I am not alone.
In Summer Triangle, my main character, Maria, wrestles with control of her family. I, as a mother, incorporated my own desiring of control. I wanted the clean home, but always fought that battle with time in, working full time. Maria controlled her home when she was able to go part time. But she still worried about her children. As a mother I feel responsible for the family's health, happiness, future and being godly adults.
I was talking about my dad yesterday to a co-worker. The stress of healthcare leads sometimes to unhealthy habits. He was going to smoke a cigarette. Surprised, I asked him about this, as I didn't think he smoked. He doesn't, but when stress takes over, he gives in. I recalled my senior year of nursing school, with my mother seeming to be dying, planning a wedding anyways and the pressure of nursing, I turned to Virginia Slims. Yet, the habit never stuck because my dad in his nonjudgmental manner kept it from taking over me. Dad was like Aslan, he could attack, but mostly he controlled it with love. We knew that, not with a fear, but respect of his power as a man.
As an adult, when David and I lived with my parents for a time, I sat at the breakfast table with Dad one morning, alone. He could hardly articulate his fear. He couldn't control life or how he may be as an old man, if his mind went. Having to place his mother-in-law in a nursing home weighed on him. As a family, though, with his wife also in ill health, Grandma couldn't live at home any more. I think he also remembered great Uncle Dave, an ornery old man at times, a bachelor who tried to rule our house.
Jacob, from the Bible, also comes to my thoughts. I read the account of his return to his homeland. He worried about meeting his brother, scheming and planning the approach. Esau, ran to his brother with open arms. As my children were young, I shielded them from the world, when maybe I should have embraced people more. Would more people have known Jesus if I hadn't hid? A convicting moment stirred up thoughts that morning.
The last few years show me what I always said, God is in control. We pray, but we don't control God. He wants to hear from us, but He still knows the whole scope. He knows the vase He is forming. We are to yield.
I read Job in the Bible, too, many times, trying to figure this all out. Hard times come. Like Job, we do want to know why. Job was not a silent sufferer. A cosmic bet in the first two chapters threw Job's controlled life into turmoil. At the end of the book, God does not have to explain Himself and we are not to explain Him, either. A life of control never promised. Yet, in a belief, Job prays for his friends and he is blessed. Even if we are not blessed in this life, we are to obey God and care for others.
A friend encountered a storm of large proportions. She questions religion, faith and God. In her anger, any words about faith would not comfort, like they do for believers. But sometimes, those words ring hallow for believers, too, if we are honest. One lesson I learned from reading Job so many times, is his friends should have just remained silent. We offer a hand, our hearts, but words are overrated.
Psalm 131:2 But I have stilled and quieted myself, just as a small child is quiet with its mother. Yes like a small child is my soul within me.
Jesus said we must be like a child to enter the Kingdom of God. We need to quiet ourselves to hear the peace and comfort from God. Quit asking, "Are we there yet?" Relax and trust Dad to know where we are going.
In Summer Triangle, my main character, Maria, wrestles with control of her family. I, as a mother, incorporated my own desiring of control. I wanted the clean home, but always fought that battle with time in, working full time. Maria controlled her home when she was able to go part time. But she still worried about her children. As a mother I feel responsible for the family's health, happiness, future and being godly adults.
I was talking about my dad yesterday to a co-worker. The stress of healthcare leads sometimes to unhealthy habits. He was going to smoke a cigarette. Surprised, I asked him about this, as I didn't think he smoked. He doesn't, but when stress takes over, he gives in. I recalled my senior year of nursing school, with my mother seeming to be dying, planning a wedding anyways and the pressure of nursing, I turned to Virginia Slims. Yet, the habit never stuck because my dad in his nonjudgmental manner kept it from taking over me. Dad was like Aslan, he could attack, but mostly he controlled it with love. We knew that, not with a fear, but respect of his power as a man.
As an adult, when David and I lived with my parents for a time, I sat at the breakfast table with Dad one morning, alone. He could hardly articulate his fear. He couldn't control life or how he may be as an old man, if his mind went. Having to place his mother-in-law in a nursing home weighed on him. As a family, though, with his wife also in ill health, Grandma couldn't live at home any more. I think he also remembered great Uncle Dave, an ornery old man at times, a bachelor who tried to rule our house.
Jacob, from the Bible, also comes to my thoughts. I read the account of his return to his homeland. He worried about meeting his brother, scheming and planning the approach. Esau, ran to his brother with open arms. As my children were young, I shielded them from the world, when maybe I should have embraced people more. Would more people have known Jesus if I hadn't hid? A convicting moment stirred up thoughts that morning.
The last few years show me what I always said, God is in control. We pray, but we don't control God. He wants to hear from us, but He still knows the whole scope. He knows the vase He is forming. We are to yield.
I read Job in the Bible, too, many times, trying to figure this all out. Hard times come. Like Job, we do want to know why. Job was not a silent sufferer. A cosmic bet in the first two chapters threw Job's controlled life into turmoil. At the end of the book, God does not have to explain Himself and we are not to explain Him, either. A life of control never promised. Yet, in a belief, Job prays for his friends and he is blessed. Even if we are not blessed in this life, we are to obey God and care for others.
A friend encountered a storm of large proportions. She questions religion, faith and God. In her anger, any words about faith would not comfort, like they do for believers. But sometimes, those words ring hallow for believers, too, if we are honest. One lesson I learned from reading Job so many times, is his friends should have just remained silent. We offer a hand, our hearts, but words are overrated.
Psalm 131:2 But I have stilled and quieted myself, just as a small child is quiet with its mother. Yes like a small child is my soul within me.
Jesus said we must be like a child to enter the Kingdom of God. We need to quiet ourselves to hear the peace and comfort from God. Quit asking, "Are we there yet?" Relax and trust Dad to know where we are going.
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Monday, May 20, 2013
Boy Friends Come Last
I joined the International Order of the Rainbow for Girls in the winter of my freshman year of high school. I heard snippets about this organization. I felt drawn to the betterment of life it seemed to portray. A sorority for young girls, maybe even privileged, called to me.
My friend, Nancy, asked me causally one day if I wanted to join. I suppose she had been turned down by many. I thought the girl's father had to be a Mason and my father at that time, was not. I told her as much and she didn't know if that were true. The next day, she informed me I did not need to be the daughter of a Mason and I gladly said, "Yes."
My initiation was in the winter. We scrambled to find long and short white dresses and shoes. My parents could not witness this ritual, as it was closed to Rainbow girls, Masons and Eastern Star members only. I climbed the innumerable stairs of the old Masonic Temple on Vine Street in downtown Sharon. The young girls in white dresses sat in the outer room on stuffed leather chairs and couches. I had not seen the hall.
The meeting started as we waited. Then the knock on the door, the ritual back and forth between the drill leader, Faith and the Worthy Adviser, as we stood glancing at each other, waiting. Finally, we entered the two story room, dark lush green carpet, mahogany heavy chairs and woodwork, a large painting of a rainbow in the clouds over the dais. The teen girls in long white gowns perched in their throne like chairs around the room, the highest one with a rainbow crown on her head. We ended this journey at her station last. Faith led us after the drill leader directed us to her.
The stations of the bow had ribbons of colors at their chairs. After they quoted their speech on the meaning of their office, the active candidate with Faith streamed the ribbon to the altar. At the end, as the meeting closed, the ribbons were retired and the officers drilled into a cross formation, kneeling on the floor, as they sang The Old Rugged Cross.
Looking back this seems archaic and rather strange, but as an impressionable fourteen year old, I entered a cloud. The beauty of the ritual, the symbolism of a faith journey, the extraction of perfection carried me to a higher place. Even back then, if a girl didn't feel the magic, she couldn't understand the attraction. I got teased often for my love of the Rainbow life.
I remained a Rainbow girl till my majority at age twenty. I climbed the chairs to Worthy Adviser. I ran for a state office of Charity. I still love the speech she gives at the initiation, explaining the secrets of the pot of gold.
The era for this organization has long gone. I never wanted my daughters to be involved. We limited our time to the church and one outside activity. Modern day parents could not permit the closed meetings. I think I heard they gave in to allowing parents to observe. Girls would not put up with wearing dresses to all the functions. Other school activities squeezed this organization out.
As an adult, when I lived in New Hampshire and Connecticut, I attended Rainbow meetings. I even served on the advisory board in Norwich, Connecticut. Some meetings more adults attended that girls. The Masonic Temple in Norwich, surrounded by lawn, as it was built on the north side of the town, was, too, ancient and huge with hidden rooms filled with the props for all the meetings.
We went one last time to a Rainbow installation for a friend's daughter as Worthy Adviser. Katie, at twelve, rebelled the whole night, but Mary Ellen, a youngster of six, enthralled like I was by the pageantry. I knew I wouldn't encourage Katie joining.
As I said, I think I belong as the need for these organizations waned. I did enjoy the Grand Assembly at Penn State every year. We met girls from all over the state. Supreme Assembly, an international gathering of the girls, opened doors to seeing girls from all over the world. I went twice. I cherish those trips. We did more than meetings. Sight seeing, days at amusement parks and hanging out in motel rooms bonding with girls from all over were some highlights.
Part of the Rainbow Girls experience sharpened my desire for political office. I ran for one office. I spoke as part of the Grand Lecturer role of visiting other assemblies. My public speaking and speaking off the cuff honed during these years. Yet there has been many years since this time of practice making me out of practice with public speaking.
Like all of life, we look back. I don't think Rainbow girls made me a worse person. I know because my school didn't have a drama department, the ritual memorization helped fill that desire of performing. Good deeds were encouraged, service a main part of this organization. I have friends I would not have had I not belonged. I met Terrie and ended up living at her home my junior year of nursing school, got me out of the dorm. Traveling is always a bonus, too. I explored defeat of losing an election calming those aspirations of running for office. So I don't regret belonging to this organization. I learned a lot.
My friend, Nancy, asked me causally one day if I wanted to join. I suppose she had been turned down by many. I thought the girl's father had to be a Mason and my father at that time, was not. I told her as much and she didn't know if that were true. The next day, she informed me I did not need to be the daughter of a Mason and I gladly said, "Yes."
My initiation was in the winter. We scrambled to find long and short white dresses and shoes. My parents could not witness this ritual, as it was closed to Rainbow girls, Masons and Eastern Star members only. I climbed the innumerable stairs of the old Masonic Temple on Vine Street in downtown Sharon. The young girls in white dresses sat in the outer room on stuffed leather chairs and couches. I had not seen the hall.
The meeting started as we waited. Then the knock on the door, the ritual back and forth between the drill leader, Faith and the Worthy Adviser, as we stood glancing at each other, waiting. Finally, we entered the two story room, dark lush green carpet, mahogany heavy chairs and woodwork, a large painting of a rainbow in the clouds over the dais. The teen girls in long white gowns perched in their throne like chairs around the room, the highest one with a rainbow crown on her head. We ended this journey at her station last. Faith led us after the drill leader directed us to her.
The stations of the bow had ribbons of colors at their chairs. After they quoted their speech on the meaning of their office, the active candidate with Faith streamed the ribbon to the altar. At the end, as the meeting closed, the ribbons were retired and the officers drilled into a cross formation, kneeling on the floor, as they sang The Old Rugged Cross.
Looking back this seems archaic and rather strange, but as an impressionable fourteen year old, I entered a cloud. The beauty of the ritual, the symbolism of a faith journey, the extraction of perfection carried me to a higher place. Even back then, if a girl didn't feel the magic, she couldn't understand the attraction. I got teased often for my love of the Rainbow life.
I remained a Rainbow girl till my majority at age twenty. I climbed the chairs to Worthy Adviser. I ran for a state office of Charity. I still love the speech she gives at the initiation, explaining the secrets of the pot of gold.
The era for this organization has long gone. I never wanted my daughters to be involved. We limited our time to the church and one outside activity. Modern day parents could not permit the closed meetings. I think I heard they gave in to allowing parents to observe. Girls would not put up with wearing dresses to all the functions. Other school activities squeezed this organization out.
As an adult, when I lived in New Hampshire and Connecticut, I attended Rainbow meetings. I even served on the advisory board in Norwich, Connecticut. Some meetings more adults attended that girls. The Masonic Temple in Norwich, surrounded by lawn, as it was built on the north side of the town, was, too, ancient and huge with hidden rooms filled with the props for all the meetings.
We went one last time to a Rainbow installation for a friend's daughter as Worthy Adviser. Katie, at twelve, rebelled the whole night, but Mary Ellen, a youngster of six, enthralled like I was by the pageantry. I knew I wouldn't encourage Katie joining.
As I said, I think I belong as the need for these organizations waned. I did enjoy the Grand Assembly at Penn State every year. We met girls from all over the state. Supreme Assembly, an international gathering of the girls, opened doors to seeing girls from all over the world. I went twice. I cherish those trips. We did more than meetings. Sight seeing, days at amusement parks and hanging out in motel rooms bonding with girls from all over were some highlights.
Part of the Rainbow Girls experience sharpened my desire for political office. I ran for one office. I spoke as part of the Grand Lecturer role of visiting other assemblies. My public speaking and speaking off the cuff honed during these years. Yet there has been many years since this time of practice making me out of practice with public speaking.
Like all of life, we look back. I don't think Rainbow girls made me a worse person. I know because my school didn't have a drama department, the ritual memorization helped fill that desire of performing. Good deeds were encouraged, service a main part of this organization. I have friends I would not have had I not belonged. I met Terrie and ended up living at her home my junior year of nursing school, got me out of the dorm. Traveling is always a bonus, too. I explored defeat of losing an election calming those aspirations of running for office. So I don't regret belonging to this organization. I learned a lot.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
New Circumstances
I'm using my great nephew's laptop, as my adventure in blogging continues. I won't write much because of the instablity of the wireless and every other problem that can occur when one is out of one's environment.
We are celebrating early my in-laws 65th wedding anniversary today. I had forgotten this morning that it is also our 29th wedding anniversary until my mother-in-law mentioned it in church. I was suprised I'd forgotten, but when the circumstances are totally topsy turvey I forget things I'd been remembering. So, I tossed the 29 years like no big deal in my realization that I had not even thought of it this morning. In fact, we had an argument about our poor communication as we rapidly departed his aunt's house on "the hill" I suppose it was strange to have slept in his grandmother's old bedroom. I kept thinking this is the room where Grandma died.
Family is growing and the in-law's house is not. It is alumni weekend in my husband's hometown, so forget staying in a motel room. 300 people were at the exclusive banquet last evening. I was looking forward to sitting on their porch, but everyone has developed a new hobby of killing flies, from 9 to 90. Yet the weather is beautiful and there is no rain.
We have tried to keep Mom from doing much this weekend. She always does her kitchen with ease, but this is their big weekend. The picnic is yet to come and the official celebration. I thank God for a new family I've had for 29 years today.
We are celebrating early my in-laws 65th wedding anniversary today. I had forgotten this morning that it is also our 29th wedding anniversary until my mother-in-law mentioned it in church. I was suprised I'd forgotten, but when the circumstances are totally topsy turvey I forget things I'd been remembering. So, I tossed the 29 years like no big deal in my realization that I had not even thought of it this morning. In fact, we had an argument about our poor communication as we rapidly departed his aunt's house on "the hill" I suppose it was strange to have slept in his grandmother's old bedroom. I kept thinking this is the room where Grandma died.
Family is growing and the in-law's house is not. It is alumni weekend in my husband's hometown, so forget staying in a motel room. 300 people were at the exclusive banquet last evening. I was looking forward to sitting on their porch, but everyone has developed a new hobby of killing flies, from 9 to 90. Yet the weather is beautiful and there is no rain.
We have tried to keep Mom from doing much this weekend. She always does her kitchen with ease, but this is their big weekend. The picnic is yet to come and the official celebration. I thank God for a new family I've had for 29 years today.
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