Thursday, March 15, 2007

pop










Been thinking alot about my father-in-law. He passed away when S was 9 mos. old. S's recent 18th birthday has stirred memories.

One that especially depicts the essence of who Pop was is from S's birth. I had been wheeled from the operating room into my hospital room. Shortly thereafter, my parents and J's rushed into the room whizzing past me and straight to the new grandbaby. My father-in-law, however, stopped, gave me a kiss, stroked my hair with his hardworking hands and, in his broken English, asked if I was okay. I'll never forget the look in his eyes. Despite our inability to communicate because of the language barrier, I knew I was loved.

As S grew, he would only allow a few people to hold him - J and I, my mom and my father-in-law. He swelled with pride each time he took a crying S from his wife and immediately providing the security needed to calm his grandson.

Both boys are like him. S has inherited his ability to make anything out of nothing. And Ethan has his impish grin and mischieviousness. I am sorry Ethan has not known him - they definately would have been partners in crime - language barrier or not.


I miss you, Pop.

my mama









Last weekend, M and I went down to Fresno for my nephew and niece's baby shower. My cousin took this picture of the three of us. Mom looked so pretty that day. She turned 77 at the beginning of March and did not look like a great grandmother-to-be.

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

march's word

vision: Right now, in one area of life, my vision is limited to the hard facts before me. I sense there is more around the perimeter but I can't see any of it and yet have to move forward. Show me, God, where to step.

vision: I recently took a VNG test to get to the bottom of my dizziness. The goal was to set my head a spinnin' and chart my reaction. The entire test was performed wearing big black goggles that filmed my eye movement. For the first part, I was allowed to see out of the goggles; the second (and most dizziest part) was done with a shield over the front in complete darkness. Some observations from this process:

I couldn't believe how much I have learned to compensate for the lack of balance without even realizing it.
and
During the test, my eyes eventually adjusted to the darkness of the shield and I couldn't tell if I was imagining the light I saw or if it was really real.

Oddly enough, I had just read the passage where Jesus says He is the light of the world and where He is, there is no darkness. Show me God, where I am compensating instead of standing firm; and uncover my eyes to see where I have adjusted to the darkness and am missing the reality of Your Light.

Amen and amen.