Sometimes we travel along life's road trying to "do it all" when a sheet of ice appears causing us to fishtail, spin around and stop in our tracks.
Why me? Why now? Why... a million different questions might run through our mind as we come to grips with the moment, assess the damage and figure how to set ourselves on a proper track.
As I worked through muscle spasms last night, I knew WHY. It was time to stop... baking cookies... sewing projects... writing holiday greetings... wrapping and delivering gifts... In short, time to stop worrying about doing STUFF for everyone else. And time to focus on rest and relaxation.
As I snuggled under the bed covers, I picked up a book and began to read until I dozed off to sleep.
This morning I was ready to be drawn in:
by my husband to watch an old movie together
and by my sons to play a hot game of cards and work on a puzzle.
Ecclesiastes 3:1 tells us: "To every thing there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven."
How we determine when one season starts and another begins may take a turn of 36oº!
At long last! Mom can pull out and play her oldies but goodies: LPs and cassettes. Plus listen to modern CDs and the radio. Thanks, Dad, for the gift of music!
A Christmas cantata with Nativity narration by our male pastor and a female reader mixed with nine highly-charged musical pieces - one medley prelude and eight other arrangements sung by the choir and accompanied by both our pianist and organist.
In spite of this being a church service, the congregation responded with a standing ovation.
Afterwards the pastor reported that one longtime member told him, "That was the best service I've ever been to here." He added, "And that's pretty high praise coming from her because she's a straight shooter."
Thanks to the dedication of our director/pianist and her months of hard work raising the bar for our small choir in this tiny rural church, we were able to Go Tell It!
I was practicing my solo for Sunday's cantata as Dan walked out the door for work this morning.
A couple minutes later, I was still singing when the phone rang.
"St-ill, St-ill, Still," Dan sang into my ear from his cellphone. "You might want to get outside with your camera. The smoke from the chimney's going straight up into the air."
"Ah, I get it," I replied. "The air is Still, Still, Still."
"Yeah. It might make a cool picture," he said. "It's just an idea."
I went into the kitchen to get my camera,
noticed the sunrising through the window where a tiny nisse stood on the sill,
and shot another "Still, Still, Still" photo before venturing out
into the Stillness
about which I'd received notice in a Cellphone Call.
More Arctic air caused school officials to delay school's start for the second time this week. Before heading out to work, Dad cautioned his sons to bundle up against the double-digit subzero wind chill by wearing long johns, hats, gloves and boots. Dad added: "You don't want to end up freezing your feet like your mother did, because...."
(play the clip)
Two hours later, the bundled boys headed out to the bus heeding the advice of their Soap Box Dad.
Have you ever been called out of your comfort zone?
A couple weeks ago, our church choir director urged me join the choir for the December 21st Christmas Cantata – an hour-long service of narration and song. She said, "We've got just two sopranos. We could sure use you, Wendy."
Since being elected the church Sunday School superintendent, I gave up choir to keep my focus on doing one activity well each Sunday. Yet, I'd asked this director to help me with our Sunday School Christmas program. I needed her not only on piano to accompany our program with 23 children but also to convince my husband to sing "The Lord's Prayer" as the children performed actions. She'd agreed to do her best. What could I do but offer mine?
I slipped into choir practice. She handed me my copy of "Go Tell It!" We rehearsed three songs. On the fourth, the director said, "We need a soprano soloist. Wendy?!"
I shook my head: "But I haven't sung in the choir for two years and now you're asking me to solo?"
As we ran through the song, I thought of my sons.
"Use your gifts!" I always say urging them to play clarinet or flute instrumentals for the congregation, help out with Sunday School class, play to their potential in sports, etc. Sometimes it works; other times not.
Actions speak louder than words, especially to kids. I knew I had to try this solo even though it took me outside my comfort zone. At home, I practiced between weekly rehearsals. At church as the children ran through the Sunday School Nativity, I was reminded how Jesus was taken from the comfort of his Heavenly home and sent to Earth. Each one of us has a special purpose – one that stretches our character and makes us reach out to others.
Aaron said holding Blizzard on his forearm in the "FlopCat" position.
"Or this,"
he said moving the 10-pounder into a cradle hold.
Eight months ago in the middle of a snowstorm, Aaron played midwife for his mama cat and helped deliver this single kitten that once fit in the palm of his hand and now holds one big place In His Heart.
The tree was decked with flags and hearts. The music was playing in a foreign tongue. The aroma of goro still hung in the air. Yes, the mood was set for another Norwegian Christmas.
"Where are they?" Noah asked. "I wanna play."
We opened the Julekisten – our Christmas chest of all things Norwegian. Stuck in its corner under great-great grandma's aprons, the Julekisten held wooden figures carved and painted into three nisses – one Norwegian "Santa" each for Isaac, Aaron and Noah.
Noah insisted on going first. I went to the bedroom to tidy up until he called: "Ready!"
I searched high and low through out our home's living areas. One stood in an open cupboard amidst the canned goods. Another was hidden – all but its hat – in a magazine rack; The third lay deep in the Christmas tree behind the straw ornaments next to the platypus.