My Place

            Our Sunday School lesson for the second Sunday of Advent was that humility is the true spirit of Christmas.  Teaching point two was this:  “Humility is expressed in knowing and accepting your place in God’s plan.”

            It is a little awkward to write about humility and oneself without seeming to be proud.  But I think you will agree with me that there is nothing puffed-up about my place in God’s plan:  playing Mr. Monkey and singing “The Wheels on the Bus” with my grandson, Benjamin.

            Before I divulge details of the monkey game which is now part of my daily life, let me give you a little background.  Benjamin isn’t your typical four-year-old.  He has Down Syndrome.  He has yet to utter his first word, but he is adept at signing “please” and his own version of “sing.”  He also communicates through his body language and actions.

            Benjamin and I are always very happy to see each other.  We smile, laugh, clap our hands, and give each other a big hug.  After one or more rounds of this mutual adoration society greeting, he brings me one of his stuffed monkeys.  “Why, it’s Mr. Monkey!” I exclaim.  Then, using my best Mr. Monkey voice, I wave a monkey arm and say, “Hi, Benjamin!” followed by three sets of “Hoo-Hoo-Hoo!  Ha-Ha-Ha!  Mu-ah!”  as Mr. Monkey zooms in to kiss Benjamin (left ear, right ear, face) with each repetition. 

            During the course of these daily visits, I also manage to squeeze in conversation time with my daughter and her husband as well as play time with nine-month-old Joelle.  Inevitably, the Mr. Monkey routine is repeated several times over as is Benjamin’s request for “The Wheels on the Bus.”  He signs “sing” (spinning his hands like the wheels on the bus) and “please” (rubbing his hand on his chest).  I have shortened this never-ending song to a mere seven verses, and it is always followed up by “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” and “The Itsy Bitsy Spider.”  Then we laugh and hug each other again.

            I am sure that as time goes on, Benjamin and I will come up with additional games to play.  In the meantime, though, I am quite certain that God’s plan for me is to sing “The Wheels on the Bus” and play Mr. Monkey with all the love and gusto I can.  

Today

            Today I cruised around town for yard sales and came away with a plant stand and two flower pots for my front porch, two shirts, and a darling hand-painted telephone table.

            Today I saw Benjamin after he got home from his eye surgery and gave him some cuddles and sang him some songs.

            Today I put my Multnomah Falls poster in a frame.

            Today I watched Joelle for part of the afternoon so that both Dana and Shawn could nap while Benjamin did.

            Today I prayed for Hilary Welch Blount, her family, and her friends.  Hilary, a vivacious and talented woman of about 30, whom I never had the opportunity to meet, died of complications from an unexpected and severe bout of ulcerative colitis. 

            Today I have found myself humming and singing songs of worship and praise.  In life and in death, in blessings big and small, in the details of the everyday, in grief and in joy, God is worthy of our praise.  Why He gave me this quiet sense of worship today, I do not know.  But I am grateful for it.

            Last night’s email from my brother John was a reality check:  he has found someone to rent the cabin long-term.  Wow.  I am very glad for him and pretty sad for me.

            Perhaps “nostalgic” is the better term.  To realize that I will not be staying there in the cabin when I visit (at first he had thought about doing vacation rentals) hits me hard.  It was most definitely home, a place of refuge in what Mom called “the middle of beauty.”  And now it is not.  Home, that is. 

            I have no regrets about moving, though I miss the magnificent mountains, water, and woods and the many friends who graced my life with their unique personalities and amazing giftedness. 

It is a marvel how much God healed me emotionally and spiritually during those five years on the island.  I come back to the Midwest a different person than when I left:  confident, secure, grounded in faith.  I find myself happily plunging into new opportunities for service, worship, writing, and music.  It is as if God has thrown wide the doors to my soul so I can embrace the present with joy even while I miss the past. 

            

            First, he looks surprised.  Then a smile spreads across his dear little face.  He walks over to me and laughs as he hugs me.  That is how Benjamin greets me each time I show up at his house.  Joelle smiles, revealing her four new teeth.  And I am happy.

            The days take shape with the business of settling in to a new place.  Someday soon, I hope, the last box will be unpacked; my computer, printer, and scanner will be set up; and the pictures will be hung.  Then, perhaps, I will remember to write again. 

            I miss the breathtaking majesty of snow-capped peaks and blue Sound water.  I miss the towering fir trees, the beach walks, and the twenty-mile drives between Greenbank and Oak Harbor.  I miss the health food aisles at Payless and Saars and the ubiquitous coffee drive-throughs.  I miss Chancel Choir, Tradewinds, and Enchanted Flute Choir.  I miss my life group, session, and writing for The Log.

            Yet I savor the Midwestern sunshine and autumn’s brilliant colors.  I am continually amazed at the size and comfort of my new home.  I cherish the time I have with my daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren.  I look forward to learning the names of all the people I have met at church.  And I wonder how God’s plan for me will unfold here.

             

The Movers Have Gone

            I wondered if they would ever arrive.  The wait was tortuous, more so because I was promised for two weeks that they would be here within a day or two.  I complained to the broker (All State Van Lines) and to Five Stars Movers.  Promises were repeatedly made and broken.  But finally, they came just before 6 p.m.

            And once they were here, they worked.  Oh, how they worked.  Shawn joined in, as did the teenager next door.  I know for a fact that my antique crystal goblets made it intact.  So did the antique furniture.   I unpacked two large kitchen boxes and directed furniture placement.  All the other boxes just about fill up what will be the guest room/toy room.

            One of the workers spoke virtually no English.  The driver’s English was heavily accented and hard for me to understand, especially on the many unsatisfactory phone calls over the past three weeks.  As I watched them work, though, my heart softened.  The anger over the long wait and broken promises faded away.  I saw two men hard at work and anxious to please.  The final item to come inside, my big side-by-side refrigerator, took the longest as they managed to maneuver it through a front door that wasn’t quite wide enough.

            And now everyone is gone.  Tomorrow morning Dana will come help me start the unpacking.  Tomorrow evening Shawn will hook up my dryer and refrigerator.  I have my bed to sleep in, though heaven only knows in which boxes my bedding and pillows reside.  As I picked up stray leaves and strips of packing tape in the living room, something on the floor caught my eye:  an old, battered yellow M & M that must have fallen out of Mom’s recliner.  I laughed out loud.   Love you, too, Mom.  Welcome to my new home.

Saturday: Looking Forward

            Gorgeous red oak hardwood floors greet me as I come in the front door of my new home.  The fresh varnish and paint fumes have dissipated.  Sunday evening I will go to look at a dining room set; Tuesday afternoon the couch I purchased Friday will arrive.  And sometime by the end of the week my belongings from Mom’s Greenbank cabin in the woods should arrive.

            I’m feeling a little off balance, in a limbo of sorts.  My new life here has hardly begun and seems far from feeling real.  Tomorrow, though, I will visit Good Shepherd Presbyterian Church.  Between perusing the newly updated website and listening to last Sunday’s sermon online, I am pretty sure that on Wednesday I will be going to my first choir rehearsal.  Then, perhaps, my Oklahoma life will begin to feel real.

            In the meantime, I am enjoying time with my family.  Benjamin is surprised and happy each time I show up, and Joelle has warmed right up, too.  Dana and Shawn make me feel very much at home.  It’s just that I miss the island and church and friends.

            All this is to be expected.  I am looking forward to setting up my household when my stuff arrives.  I am looking forward to gradually establishing a routine and a rhythm to life here.  I am looking forward to the Kingdom adventures, whatever they may be, that wait just ‘round the bend.  I am looking forward to establishing new friendships, getting involved at church, and finding outlets for music and writing.  And I am also looking forward to visiting Whidbey Island, I hope, in April.

Here is a p.s.:  The people at Good Shepherd are very hospitable.  The choir, though small, sings well.  I’ll be there for choir practice Wednesday evening and the women’s small group Thursday at 1 p.m.  Membership class is November 10. 

This afternoon I went with Dana, Shawn, Benjamin, and Joelle to the Down Syndrome Association of Tulsa annual Buddy Walk.  It was extra special because this was the first time Benjamin could actually walk.  It was a great afternoon to be outside and I anticipate falling into bed by nine tonight.  Tomorrow morning it’s off to Benjamin’s eye appointment with Dana and Joelle. 

Day Seven

            Seven days and 2,600+ miles since we left Greenbank, we arrived just after 12 noon in a torrential downpour.  The gusty winds picked up in Kansas yesterday and continued today, while the rain started south of Wichita and kept on at various levels of intensity all the way to Bartlesville.  And still continues.

            Dana, looking so perky and pretty with her new shorter haircut, was waiting for us at her front door holding Joelle.  Soon thereafter Benjamin got home (via school bus) from his half day at preschool.  Oh, how those grandbabies have grown since the end of July!  Benjamin is taller and leaner . . . and way faster on his feet.  Joelle is also big for her age (8 months on October 28) and plumper than ever.  She also is cutting her top two teeth and has learned to roll to get places.

            When the rain let up a little, we walked over to my house.  Yes, the front yard has a wide strip of mud from house to sidewalk and needs more fill dirt.  (When the sewer line was repaired, the plumbing crew did not add enough dirt back into the trench they had dug.)  But turn the key and open the front door, and you are socked in the face by varnish and paint vapors—and, more importantly, gleaming red oak floors and freshly painted, neutral tone master bedroom and hallway, a real blessing since the bedroom had been pink (even overwhelming to me) and the hallway a sky blue.

            Dana has already added her personal touch in addition to the cleaning she and Shawn did.  A bowl filled with fruit on the kitchen counter, some snack foods, a microwave, and a spare coffee pot were the first things I noticed.  There were also some decorating touches in the bathrooms and a lovely cushioned bench in the living room.  Wednesday night will be my first overnight in my new home thanks to the loan of their air mattress.  By then, the house should be aired out enough to be habitable. 

            Tomorrow, John and I will go to Lowes to pick up supplies for a few remaining repairs and improvements, which he has kindly offered to do for me.  The day will pass quickly, I am sure, and when Shawn gets home from work we will enjoy some Papa Murphy’s pizza and a pleasant evening of conversation.  Wednesday morning I take John to Tulsa for his flight back to Seattle, and then I will start to settle in.  Hopefully I won’t have to wait for my furniture and books too long.  Dana is ready to decorate! 

Day Six

            After some more time with Joseph this morning, we were off to Kansas.  On very short notice, three friends came to the Colby Starbucks, and we had a really nice visit.  Connie and Carol, my former English department colleagues (perhaps sometimes known to our students as the plagiarism police); and Kathy, my friend who let me stay with her for a couple weeks before I got my apartment back in February 2008, all belong to the Presbyterian church in Colby.   It was so good to see them, and I plan visits back to Colby since I’ll be just an eight-hour drive away.

            The wind farms along I-70 were impressive.  I’ve never seen so many in such a short distance.  They stretched along the highway and on out to the horizon, miles and miles of them.  Perhaps some people think them an eyesore, but I like them.  The wind was blowing mighty hard today, and I liked thinking about those gusts creating electricity.

            So tonight we are in Salina, Kansas and will head off to Bartlesville in the morning.  It is finally beginning to sink in that I really am moving.  I’m feeling the first twinges of homesickness for Whidbey Island and my church family and am mighty glad that I’ll get to cuddle with my grandchildren tomorrow. 

Day Five (October 12)

            Saturday morning seems like a very long time ago.  We started out the day in Green River, Utah and are ending the day in Colorado Springs, Colorado.

            We drove a lot and stopped very little, mainly because all the scenery was visible from the car and the places we would have normally spent time were all national parks.  Oh, well.  Not having those parks open to stop at probably cut two days off our travel time.

            The word of the day, clearly, was mountains.  I had not thought much before about how many different kinds of scenery mountain driving affords.  Beautiful is an inadequate word, but I am too tired to come up with any detailed description right now.  I will say that I love the bright yellow leaves of the aspens.

            At Monarch Pass, my brother and I both learned rather quickly that we don’t do well at 11,000 foot elevations.  We stopped to take a picture of the snow-covered peaks (and there was plenty of snow right there in the parking lot, too).  We got out of the car and before even taking a step both realized that it was best to stand right there by the car for the picture-taking and oohing and aahing.  Upon standing, I was a little lightheaded and dizzy.  John felt out of breath.  However, we had done all right in Gunnison, even walking several blocks downtown looking for a restaurant.  I guess the 3,000 foot difference made a difference!

            We took a long and winding road trying to get to Royal Gorge outside of Canon City, hoping to see the gorge even though signs said the bridge was closed.  No luck there, but we did see the sad charred remains of a forest fire.  Sometime I will take Joseph back to Canon to see the relatives who still live there.

            And once in Colorado Springs, we navigated to my son’s apartment and took him out to a movie (“Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs 2”) and then out for some really good Jamaican food.  We are going to spend some more time with Joseph in the morning before heading east toward Colby and beyond.

            So the mountain driving is done, and tomorrow (Sunday) will take me through very familiar territory.  The plan is to reach Bartlesville sometime on Monday.