A Different Kind Of Christmas

This was a very different kind of Christmas this year; one I hope to never revisit. Mine was filled with sadness and  illness for the whole week leading up to and including Christmas Day. Acute Bronchitis  separated me from my loved ones, as I decided to spend Christmas alone for the first time in my life. Not sure if I was contagious and having zero energy, I felt it was in every ones best interest if I stayed home and rested. Last night's snow made it feel a little more Christmas-like today in my undecorated home. This was my third season not to put up a tree, because it is just too painful to go through the motions like I did that first Christmas without Buck.

I was very disappointed not to attend Christmas Eve service with my daughter and family at her church, as this is our new tradition since Buck went home to heaven. I always spend the night on Christmas Eve and wake with my grandchildren and get to witness all the excitement of Christmas morning with the little ones. I was saddened to miss all of those activities this year. I did my best to push away the self-pity and loneliness, but I have to confess their were moments that were really hard. I comforted myself with the hope that I would be better soon. I knew I needed to count my blessings to get through  this unwelcome, temporary detour. I will be looking forward to joining my family as soon as I am able. We will have to make some new memories in the week ahead.

I hope all of you were able to be surrounded by your loved ones and friends as you celebrated Christmas this year. This is a privilege I won't take for granted in the future. Christmas blessings to all of you and thank you for your continued support by stopping by today. God bless you, my friends!

Scroogette

This is a repost from my first Christmas spent as a widow. This year (December, 2012) will be my fourth Christmas without the love of my life to share it with. I think it would be safe to say that I'm still a Scroogette. However, I enjoy Christmas more than I used to, because I don't get involved in the holiday machine. New traditions have been set in place and my Christmas season is much simpler, more relaxed and enjoyable now. For that I am so thankful! Perhaps more about that in the near future.

Posted Dec 20, 2009 (9 Months into widowhood)

I have never done a survey, but I would be willing to guess that most people are Christmas lovers. I have a confession to make. I’m not one of them… I am not a Christmas person. My reasons are many. Buck and I both shared an attitude towards retailers who started their Christmas sales focus prior to the end of October. It seemed that Back To School sales had barely wrapped up before the artificial trees and decorations came out. Then there was the issue of our favorite radio stations beginning to play Christmas music on Thanksgiving Day or earlier. Frankly, we would not listen to the radio as much as usual, until the week before Christmas. Then we would welcome and enjoy the special seasonal music. I’m sorry to sound like such a Scrooge, but this is honestly how we felt.

My main frustration was the addition of all the responsibilities that came with the holiday season. These, plus an already full schedule, made for a stressful month of preparation. Being the classic procrastinators that we were, surely didn’t lighten our load. Some of us never figure out that it’s possible and very wise to think about, and shop for, gifts throughout the year. Christmas encompasses many things that I hate; things like shopping and crowds, long lines and snarled traffic, deadlines and decisions, because I am not creative with my gift giving inspiration. I have a difficult time making decisions about what I like, let alone trying to decide what my loved ones might enjoy. Then, of course, there would be the new five to ten pounds that I ‘found’ every January, after working throughout the year to lose them...again, (but that’s a personal problem).

It has been our tradition to have our family gathering on Christmas Eve each year. All our children and grandchildren would come together to enjoy Buck’s specialty: his wonderful fried deer steak dinner that he lovingly prepared for all of us. I have never mastered making it as well as he did. I was his assistant, but he was the main chef for this annual feast. In addition to the venison, his menu consisted of mashed taters and gravy, corn, green beans with bacon, cranberry sauce and biscuits or cornbread. I would be responsible for making desserts, usually German Chocolate Cake, Peanut Butter Pie and ice cream. It was the highlight meal of the year that all of us looked forward to.

I rarely got to see what presents everyone got, because I was the gifts distributor for Buck and I, and I could never convince my sweetheart that opening our gifts one at a time was a reasonable way to do things (my opinion). Occasionally, I would catch someone’s reaction as they opened one of the gifts from Buck and I, but for the most part I missed all of that, and that has always been disappointing for me.

All the activities and preparation left no room for the very reason we celebrated. There never seemed to be any real focus on what Christmas was all about: the celebration of the birth of our Savior. It seemed like the only attention given to the ‘reason for the season’, was the cake I made the past few years with ‘Happy Birthday Jesus’ spelled out on the top of the cake with chocolate chips. When our Christmas Eve celebration was over and the all the gifts were packed up to travel to their new homes, we would send our loved ones off with smiles and hugs, and I would spend my remaining energy cleaning up the kitchen. 

After our family would leave, I would experience the same emotions each year. I would ask myself; ‘what just happened here?’ I thank God for cameras or I probably wouldn’t have any Christmas memories. After everyone went home, Buck and I would feel spent from all the preparation and relieved that it was over for another year. Please don’t misunderstand; we loved getting together with our family. But the time invested in all the preliminary activities would leave us too exhausted to go to the last Christmas Eve service at our church. We both would feel disappointed when we didn’t have energy enough to be there to celebrate the birth of our Lord.

This year will be very different, as I just don’t have it in me to carry on our family tradition. I hope our children and grandchildren still love me after my ‘true confession’ and know that I won’t be offended if anyone addresses me as Scroogette in the future!

I am not certain if I will post another entry in my journal before Friday, so I would like to take this opportunity to wish all of you a very Merry Christmas! I hope it will be a special time with your family and friends. Thank you for continuing to care about my journey.

Love,

Renee'

A Thankful Heart Is A Happier Heart

This is a repost of an entry from two years ago. I'm thankful that revisiting this post encouraged me, since I've been feeling pretty blue lately. I think it would be a good idea to keep a Gratitude Journal

once again. Maybe if I focus on counting my blessings again, I'll be able to kick this funk to the curb. I hope it will encourage you to give thanks to our Creator as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the Thanksgiving season approached this year, I took on the daily challenge of posting something I was thankful for. Facebook became my daily platform to share my thankful thought for the day. As I contemplated what I would include that day, I realized how much this exercise was turning my thoughts to all the blessings I enjoy. I love the idea of keeping an inventory of the many blessings that come my way. As I contemplated the celebration of Thanksgiving I am sure that many of us are indeed thankful for all we have, but I wonder if we are all mindful of where our abundant blessings really come from.

The dictionary defines thanksgiving as an expression of gratitude, especially to God. By participating in the simple act of being thankful, my spirits were often lifted as I deliberately changed my focus, in spite of the way I might be feeling. I wonder, if maybe that is one of the reasons we are often encouraged to give thanks in so many scriptures in the Bible. 1 Thessalonians 5: 16-18  admonishes  us to: "Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus".

I have learned that it is possible to be joyful in spite of heartache, but it sometimes requires a conscious effort to search for, or at least take notice of joy-filled moments, and there are many to be found when we are looking for them. As the verse goes on, I don't think for a moment, that God expects us to be thankful FOR all our circumstances and the difficulties we face, but rather we are commanded to give thanks IN all circumstances. That is very different.

For me, that means that even when I'm struggling emotionally, with the Lord's help, I can remember and recognize that He is on this journey with me. Through tears, I may pray, "Lord, I'm hurting right now and sometimes I don't understand, but I thank You for what You are doing in my life and I trust You and know You have my best interest at heart as well as the best interest of those I love. Thank You for the good You will bring from this situation and for drawing me closer to You as You empower me to take baby steps towards my future."

Having a thankful heart comes easy for me because I have been so very blessed and have seen the hand of God in so many ways throughout my life, but never so obviously as during the past, almost, two years, since this chapter began. He continues to go before me, in this totally foreign territory of widowhood. So often, the Lord shows me the next step by bringing people into my life to help with the many decisions that need to be made. This is a tremendous comfort to me!

I have decided that I would like to continue my daily thankfulness inventory. Perhaps I will share my  Gratitude Journal from time to time. I encourage everyone to try keeping a record of thanksgiving and rereading it whenever we need an emotional lift or attitude adjustment.

As William Shakespeare said so eloquently: "Let never day nor night unhallowed pass / But still remember what the Lord hath done." May we all take a few moments to thank God for the multitude of ways He blesses each of us everyday! We are all richer than we know! God bless you and your loved ones as you celebrate this holiday season! You are a tremendous blessing in my life
!

Divine Consultant

My heart goes out to all those who lost so much and to all those who are still without power and basic needs in the aftermath of the storm. I was very thankful not to lose power and for the minimal damage from the deadly storm to the residents of the area where I live.

As anticipation built for the arrival of Hurricane Sandy a few weeks ago, I prepared as best I could, just as all of us did. I kept a watchful eye for any unwanted water in my basement that Monday, as I had experienced this one other time when there were several days of rainfall. I was thankful that the Great Stuff expanding foam had taken care of that problem. However, I found another place where water was seeping in and it became my primary focus and consumed my energy and attention. There was rain water coming in where a large pipe went through the basement wall. Unbeknown to me, there were two hairline cracks in the mortar surrounding the pipe, allowing a steady flow of water to enter my home.

My attempt to stop the small stream with an application of Great Stuff wasn’t effective because the mortar was wet. I realized that nothing was going to seal those cracks until the mortar was completely dry. Attending to the incoming water was my only option until the storm passed by. I felt fortunate to have discovered the leak before it created a watery mess. In an attempt to keep the water off the floor, I tucked a piece of rope into the foam, creating a wick to carry the water to a five gallon bucket.  To my dismay, the bucket filled in an hour. So, for three hours, my life was all about disposing of the accumulating water. After many trips up and down the basement stairs, I was wearing out. At one point, the rope fell down while I was transferring water to a smaller bucket, making it more manageable to carry. I tried three times to get the rope back in place and it repeatedly fell to the floor.

Although I meant no disrespect, in my frustration and fatigue, I had “words” with the Lord: “ YOU COULD BE HELPING ME OUT HERE, YOU KNOW!” Immediately, a foreign thought came to my mind. What I perceived was this: “Just let the water roll down the wall”. My first thought was: “Are you kidding me? If I do that, I’ll have a big mess on the floor and it will be a lot harder to clean up”. That made no sense to me and I was totally skeptical, but I listened and watched with astonishment as the water escaped and disappeared instead of collecting and spreading as I had feared. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing!

For awhile, I returned every ten minutes to make sure there wasn't a growing puddle on the floor. In my skepticism, I set my alarm clock to wake me every two hours to be certain there wasn’t a pond in the basement. After two waking cycles, I finally trusted that all was well and I had to laugh. How good God was to me, as He revealed what I didn’t know or understand about the construction of my home.  I thanked Him for His kindness in blessing me with this new information. Even though I was complaining and never thought to ask; He blessed me anyway! It is my hope that the next time I need help, I will remember to ask instead of complain. Thank You for Your continuing faithfulness to me, Lord, even in spite of my grumbling.

James 1:5
If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.

Ugly Anniversary

I started writing this journal entry on October 18th, but I was too tired to complete it that night. My heart has been heavy all week, as I processed the events of that day. This is what came out as I put my thoughts to the page.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have been committed to not focusing on grief, because I sensed the Lord prompting me to do so, since the April, three year anniversary of my husband’s passing. But I am also committed to being honest about my journey, so my writing will appear to be changing direction today.

It’s 9 PM and I’m exhausted: done...nothing left! Today would have been our 15th wedding anniversary and I decided to commemorate this day by doing something that I have avoided since Buck's death three and a half years ago. It has been four years since I last visited Gifford Pinchot State Park, in Lewisberry, Pennsylvania, about an hour drive from my home.  

It was our favorite, local place to go camping and being there was one of the hardest things I’ve done since Buck was called home. Frankly, it felt somewhat crazy to go back, knowing how painful it was going to be. But I felt that it would be another important step of closure, and would make it possible to visit again in the future, and be able to enjoy the surroundings again someday. That was my goal and I used it to motivate me to push through. It was just something that I needed to do, no matter how unpleasant it might be. I felt it was important to do this on my own. Just the Lord and I would go through this together. It was a temptation to invite a friend to join me; I would have welcomed the distraction. Never-the-less, I chose to go solo, knowing that facing this challenge by myself would be most beneficial. And I really didn’t want to drag a friend through what I knew would be a very emotional day.

                                                                                   

The last time I was there, was when my sweetheart and I celebrated our eleventh anniversary, just a few months before his heart attack. We rented a cottage, instead of using our camper. Camping was our favorite form of getting away, but we decided to rent a cottage to simplify packing for the weekend. We had just moved into our new home a few weeks before and were consumed with trying to get unpacked and settled. It was a luxury to have a cottage, because it was equipped with electricity and electric heat. The location was beautiful and scenic, since it was built lakeside. It had a fire ring, so we were able to have a campfire, and Buck prepared his famous pork steak for us on 

one of our weekend evenings. And of course, there was always s'mores later in the evening after the fire died down.

The memories rushed over me like a waterfall, when I approached the parking lot of the Conewago Day Use Area. As the tears rinsed the blush off my face, I wished I had remembered to bring my towel with me.

Upon my arrival at noon, I ate my lunch at one of the lakeside picnic tables. A couple with a young child arrived a few minutes later and I turned my back to them, so they wouldn’t see the emotion I couldn’t hide. I hoped they couldn't see my body shaking as I did my best to control the silent sobs. 

After lunch, I spent some time journaling and reading my Bible. I opened it randomly and came upon a verse that comforted me, as I was reminded: “Yet we have this assurance: Those who belong to God shall live again! Their bodies shall rise again! Those who dwell in the dust shall awake and sing for joy! For God’s light of life will fall like dew upon them!” (Isaiah 26:19, Living Bible Translation).

                                                                                  

Afterward, I walked  the Lakeside Trail and came upon the cottage where we had stayed. It was wide open, so I took the opportunity to take some pictures inside and out. I sat at the picnic table in front of the cottage, and wrote a letter to Buck to help me deal with all the emotion. I watched the Canadian geese and the Great Blue Heron in the cove. The tears ran freely as the fragrance of wood smoke filled the air, and the familiar sounds of campers setting up their temporary shelters rang through the wooded campground.

My next goal was to visit our favorite campsites near the beach. I suppose I depleted my tear reservoir, because I had nothing left as I walked through the area where we had spent so many joy-filled, memory-making days. Thankfully, I only felt numbness as I made my way through the much loved area, where we had spent so many summer and autumn vacation days.

The sky darkened with threatening clouds, so I had to hustle to get back to the day use area where my car was parked. There was no temptation to linger. I had achieved my goals and it was time to head back. To my delight, instead of getting rained on, I was blessed with a lovely sunset: a fitting way to close out my day of reminiscing about some of our happiest days. It made me smile. 

I thanked God for all the precious memories and for the wonderful years Buck and I had to spend together. Also, for this setting of the sun over the beautiful lake and for helping me to get through this difficult day. I am confident that these clouds will lift and joy will return again sometime soon, as I continue to thank God for all my blessings and look for the joy hidden in each new day.

Late Bloomer

First blossom a few days after transplanting

I noticed the emerging blossom on the young Moonflower plant that day, when I was shopping in my local greenhouse. The large white flower would probably open in a few more days. It was getting to be late in the season for planting, since it was the Fourth of July weekend, but I had to bring it home and give it a chance to thrive and bring beauty into my world.

It was a thrill to watch the rapid growth as it twisted and curled itself around my porch post. I provided a long shoelace tied to the post to give it something to climb and cling to as it grew. Everyday, I did my best to give each new curly tendril the direction it needed to stay attached to the pole instead of going it’s own way, just flailing in the summer breeze. The blossom that attracted me initially bloomed a few days after I planted it, or better said, a few nights later as the large blossoms usually start unfurling around dusk and are limp and withered by early morning. It didn’t take long for the lush plant to fill out and become a lovely focal point for the front of my home.

I had to wait nearly a month before I saw any sign of another white blossom. August passed by before blossom three showed up. I confess, I was a bit disappointed at the scarcity of flowers. Just the same, I enjoyed the abundant greenery and the Praying Mantises that it attracted.

When October arrived and the chilly autumn evenings rolled in, my thoughts turned to the reality that soon I would be witnessing the demise of my beloved flowers. All too soon, I would be clearing away the memories of all the beauty and pleasure my gardens provided this summer; as the leaves would soon turn yellow, then brown and crisp, as they succumbed to the fatal damage of the first anticipated frost. I would be thankful for the joy and healing that my gardens brought to my broken heart this summer and look forward to starting the growing cycle all over again in the spring.

Autumn has always been hard for me emotionally, because it was Buck's favorite season and our wedding anniversary takes place mid-October, bringing a flood of memories with it. Never the less, I have made a decision to welcome it this year and to be more intentional to look for all the beauty that this colorful season has to offer. 

I had no expectations of finding anything more to smile about in my gardens, since autumn had arrived. Then recently, I noticed something that brought unexpected delight to my heart. It seemed that all of a sudden, my Moonflower had developed multiple blossoms and if the weather doesn’t deliver any killing frosts in the next several days, I have the potential for more flowers this week than I had all summer. Now I’m thanking God for my “late bloomer”!

Blessed to enjoy this blossom all day long, thanks to the cloudy day

Recently, I was treated to a wonderful surprise, when a blossom (number four) was still wide open and beautiful all day long, thanks to the cloudy day that fooled the flower into believing it was still nightfall. For the first time, I was able to take pictures of the fragrant saucer sized flower in the daytime.

As I considered the new growth I found, I sensed that God wanted me to draw a parallel here. Perhaps it‘s His way of showing me that I am a lot like my Moonflower. That I too, have the potential to blossom and grow, though I am in the autumn of my life. I’m starting to realize how important it is to remember that “It’s never too late to bloom where you’re planted”. I pray that when springtime arrives, I will show signs of fresh growth, creativity, and healing thanks to the emerging of the new seasons ahead. I need to believe that God can provide the ideal conditions to help me produce something of lasting beauty, if I will trust Him to inspire me to blossom, using the creative gifts he has given me. He will lovingly guide me with His wisdom. He will provide direction, as I depend on Him for inspiration.

I believe this is a message that can speak to all of us. Being made in God's image means we all have been blessed with creative gifts. My encouragement to you and myself is to use those gifts to glorify God in whatever way He may lead and inspire us.

Embracing the months ahead will make them a time to look forward to, instead of dreading as I have in the past. Lord, help me to remember everyday, no matter the season:

This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. Psalm 118:24

Not Your Everyday Breakfast Date

Taking a little break from my "Seven" experience; I want to share a few days of interesting wildlife encounters at my home. And no, I won't be complaining about groundhogs this time. Though, I will mention that I have searched on line for smoke bombs in my frustration. But for now, like Forest Gump, "That's all I have to say about that".

I love to spend time on my front porch...the porch that my Bofren (my nickname for Buck) and I built together. It was to be the place where we would watch sunrises, enjoy afternoon rainbows and thunderstorms in the distance. We would enjoy our meals there (weather permitting) and observe the deer in the surrounding farmland, when they would come out to graze at dusk. It would be a place to watch bluebirds and fireflies; a place to dream out loud, share our lives and grow old together. But if you've been following my journey, you know that wasn't God's plan, and so, I am deliberate in utilizing this wonderful space as much as possible, in memory of my sweetheart.

I've been a bit melancholy this past week. No big surprise, since September 1st was Buck's birthday: the fourth one I've commemorated without him at my side. I still have sad days of course... like recently, when a black pick-up truck approached on my neighborhood road with a driver who looked just like my Buck. Those moments take my breath away! I wept all the way to church on my 15 minute commute. I have learned to embrace these times when they come up, and appreciate them as an outlet for any accumulated grief. I hate when it happens, but always feel better when the emotions subside.

This past week was typical, as I spent my devotional time on my glider in the mid-morning hours. On this particular morning, I ate my bowl of oatmeal as I enjoyed a sunny spot on the porch. There was a flowering plant on the little table next to me and I inspected the dainty white blossoms as I savored my morning meal. As my eyes traveled across the greenery, something almost transparent caught my attention at the base of the plant. My eyes kept scanning as it dawned on me what it was. The very next moment, I was startled by the large Praying Mantis that had obviously just shed this fragile skin shell. I've been spotting his relatives in most of my gardens and hiding in my Moonflowers. I'm so glad to see this hungry sentinel occupying my beloved plant life!

Meet Camo, as he appears to smile and wave while touching my camera

I was curious about my new friend and invited him to climb onto my hand. I had just finished my breakfast and it occurred to me to offer an oat to the only insect that I know of that isn't an enemy of one of my garden crops. I was captivated as I watched his little mouth parts munch away at my tiny offering. I raced for my camera to capture the moment. I found my friend to be very photogenic and cooperative, and was thrilled that my camera could seize this unique opportunity with such clarity, using an automatic setting at such close range. Close enough that Camo (yes, I named him) was actually touching my camera in some of the pictures during the photo shoot. It was so much fun, and brought me great joy!

Camo munches away on my oatmeal

Though this week produced some emotional shrapnel, I'm choosing to focus on the blessing that God gave me to share with you today. My encounter with Camo was just one of the precious gifts I enjoyed this week. I hope you enjoyed my experience and my photos. I can't wait to share my "show and tell" pictures with my grandchildren! It's so refreshing to know I have a friend in my gardens! Now, if only they had an appetite for stinkbugs! More about that next time.