Foggy landing-happy homecoming

My week away came to a heavy, jolting halt as the pilot seemed to brake sharply to slow the plane down. The air craft dropped so fast. Discomfort faded away to relief at being home when we realized that we had sailed through a blanket of fog so thick that we were almost diverted back. Safely on land in the early minutes of the young day, the fog enveloped us in a cosy world.

I was glad to be home and enjoyed the unusual experience of being missed. It was a challenging week which started when one of our flights was delayed and after a further two delays, our last flight was cancelled. It was a day so long that my feet ached despite my comfortable chunky shoes. Relieved to find a hotel, my colleagues and I faced the prospect of spending another day in the clothes we were wearing. I recalled what I had written about delayed flights and mislaid bags last week and resolved to be calm and stoical.

All our bags did arrive the next day when we deplaned at Fargo and although late, we were able to join our class whose main participants were police officers. A week so disruptive of normal routine moved me from my comfort zone; but I gained greater insight into domestic violence from many perspectives. I saw Moorhead through its food as we visited different eating places twice daily. We had little time or energy to sightsee although we did visit a Burlington coat factory. We worked solidly through the week and to keep us engaged, every class-member had a presentation on Friday. So we were all looking forward to being home. Fortunately, on Friday night, the decision was made to land and I was able to enjoy my day at home.

After sleeping in all morning, I left with David and Philip to mow the lawn of our elder brother while his arm heals. We had good fun and a great meal. Afterwards, I read a book and when I returned home, trimmed the roses and went for a two mile walk around our division admiring the carefully tended gardens. My best activity today was talking: to my three brothers, my sisters-in-law, and my neighbor. We connected in a look, a word, in laughter. So I am thankful that I’m home and tomorrow will offer special thanks for the blessing of the family.

Planting and Packing clothes

In forty-five minutes, it will be another day of rest as we wait in God’s presence and experience the icy patches of our hearts being melted by forgiveness, our minds being renewed with different thoughts and our spirits quickened with new resolve.

Tomorrow, I will need to take the Sabbath with me as I stand barefoot in impatient lines or squeeze past harried flyers trying to find their seats. How can I remain serene if my flight is delayed or luggage mislaid? Particularly when today was spent in a circuit of activities. I took my brother for his commitment, went to Charleston, then to the shops in Nitro before coming home to plant the many plants I bought from my idyllic nursery visit last week

Plants rooted, I changed into evening clothes, rushed to Dunbar to meet my brother before returning to Charleston for a party that was over. To salvage the evening we went for a Chinese meal . I have not finished my packing because I cannot decide what to take: woolens or cottons, suits or casual, skirts or trousers., red or navy.
I feel that the energies expended in making this decision should be saved for momentous situations but still I hesitate and ponder.

So this Saturday, I feel flustered and harried and I won’t be in Church to-morrow but I know God has loved me this week and has looked out for me. I know as Lord of the Sabbath, He transcends time and place. Whenever, I can find time to worship in celebration, He attends with new wine. I am filled, I am blest. I am at rest in His peace.

Dancing and greenhouse joy

Last night I went to a dance-a-thon, a fund-raising event for KISRA It was fun. Each dance was preceded by instructions so everyone could learn. It provided a good example that even if everyone is given the same opportunity, results would vary. Some folk after the briefest of instructions glided along like Fred Astaire, instinctively knowing when to twist, twirl and turn. Most enjoy it after a few practice runs. I get most of he moves but the turns elude me. I love dancing. Watching dozens of dances swaying in unison is like looking at fields of daffodils dancing in the wind; sheer poetry in motion. I took my two left feet home early after adding to my bucket list: Learn to dance before arthritis comes to stay.



I picked up my brother from work and as Captain D was still opened, I had a meal there for the first time ever. We waited for our meal but were gratified to know that although we had ordered different menus, our food was freshly cooked. My grilled fish was delicious, fried okra crisp and corn on the cob tender. My brother enjoyed his fixed meal too. So we went home replete and refreshed and ready for the weekend.

This morning, Philip came for David to visit Leon. David invited me but I thought that brothers benefit with time alone. Besides, I was offered a trip to a nursery along many miles of winding farm roads. I really did take note when the sign said 10mph. Nevertheless, the trip was perfect. Clear sunny skies, cushioned flooring and a village of greenhouses with plants: annuals and perennials, common and exotic, some just for ground cover, others decorative bushes.

This year, I’ve splurged on scented rose bushes. The great news is that I can keep the roses in their pots if they are watered and fed. I hope this works. Of course, I couldn’t resist some other plants too like a peppermint flower that smells like mint but mainly I selected those with varying shades of blue to purple. I can hardly wait to compose the different hues and textures into interesting and vibrant displays.

But I did wait because my brother who is recovering from brain surgery wanted to borrow my car like old times. He drove to the shops and bought what he wanted, another landmark on the road to recovery.

The beauty of this day reflects the beauty of my life. Being in good health, doing the things I love and knowing that the sick in my family are being healed is beauty created by the Hand of God. This beauty creates praise and makes my heart sing. It echoes in my spirit that someone who is special to me can even give beauty for ashes. To-morrow, in Church I will celebrate this.

Resting for the Sabbath

Friday evening and the heat of the day has past. I am in a woolen sweater as I was attending a course and froze for two days. This morning, I decided that I would be warm and the sun came out. I stopped at a Nitro lake to eat ice-cream and inhale the serenity of water kissing green tipped edge of land. The lushness of the trees hiding the hills made my brother, David think of home. I agreed with him as an afterthought. Switzerland came to mind as I recalled a lunch of bread and cheese by a lake there, an hour’s train ride from the Alps. We were hungry and the pleasure of eating was recalled by the children years later.
I’ve seen so many places that reminded me of different parts of the world but not in a bored, disinterested way. On the contrary, I seem to reconnect and to recall their similarities with joy. It’s as if the world is saying wherever you are I’ll show you beauty. Although I still enjoy finding picturesque places, I’m convinced that wherever I am, there will always be a spot to make me gasp in awe or remembrance. David commented on the sun lightening the trees which seemed almost yellow under the glare. I asked him if he painted as he has an eye for beauty. “No”, he said “I get the dimensions all wrong” and then proceeded to inform me about different artistic styles. “I love art”, he said in explanation but I can’t do it”.
Once again, someone close to me has surprised me by revealing another aspect of themselves. No wonder my concept of God is always in revision. There is always more than what I see or can understand. Although, intellectually, I know this to be true, my reality is usually based on just what I can experience.
This Saturday has been a complete day of rest so I can face tomorrow energized to worship a God who loves me and often surprises me. I can hardly wait to praise Him for all I know Him to be. I also want to thank Him for bringing a complex, loyal, loving, multi-dimensional person in my life. My mother and I love each other but I adore her courage, her quirkiness, her Ps31 approach. Tomorrow, I will celebrate her personality that has colored my life in starting ways.