Swimming out anger, and kvetching at the same time...

I guess that I didn't realize it, but I have been angry about a lot of things. Things I can't do anything about. On top of it all, the last few weeks I've barely had time to swim, and when I don't exercise, emotions get hard to handle. The last few days have been filled with grief--nothing bad has happened, but I've been reminded of my Dad, reminded of my brother, constantly. Sunday night, I saw an elderly man who could have been my Dad's twin from a profile view of him. My hubby saw this gentleman first, and it unsettled him. He warned me to spare me the shock of it and I was thankful that he did. The resemblance of his profile to my Dad was uncanny, and then he moved and I saw his face--and the resemblance faded--thankfully, because I ended up in a conversation with this gentleman after our meeting, and I wanted to treat him graciously, and not stare at him because he looked like the father I lost four years ago. This gentleman was lovely, and appreciative and thankfully, his voice didn't sound at all like my Dad's voice. He had a different voice,and a different face. A more robust way of moving, a more vigorous way of being. Tell yourself the truth girlfriend, this is NOT your dad.

I threw myself into the pool today. I forced myself to go--I needed to and I didn't want to. I did the whole swim, all 36 laps of it, counting each one laboriously, not sure I would get past 7. Not thinking. Just strokes, this is my first lap, and I'm swimming till I get to my second lap, till I get to my third...determination, gritting my teeth, getting done, taking my shower and getting my sorry self out of there. There was no joy in my swim-it was more like a hair shirt that I had to put on, and then take off.

This little pin was my brother's. I wear it on my green jacket. I miss him more than I can say.
His death was so shocking, and so ridiculous. I found myself angry all over again--why didn't people close to him, who saw him every day get it? Why didn't they see that he was killing himself and why didn't they do something to help him? His belly was swollen. His legs were full of fluid. His face was ashen and gray. I was 3,000 miles away, and he hid it all, quite well.
"Sometimes I think I'm going to get into my car and drive and drive till I hit the ocean," he once said to me. "Well, Stu, point your car west and north and come stay with us a while. You need a rest. We'd love to have you come and stay for a few weeks. I could show you all over San Francisco, we've got ocean here, and it's lovely..." My brother looked at me quizzically, as if to say, "Do you really mean it?" I answered back with a nod of my head. "Of course I do!"
"Well, I'll think about it. That would be something, wouldn't it?"

It would have indeed. And I grieve over the fact that it was never to be. I had a fantasy of cooking him all kinds of delicious healthy foods, taking him to a good doctor who would give him a good going over, and seeing his health restored.
Stu never drove out to the Pacific.
No one seemed to notice that he was as ill as he was.
His death was a shock to all of his friends back in our home town.
It left a Grand Canyon hole there.


It's rather pointless to be angry at Stu's friends. Even if they had worked together to try to do something, Stu was as stubborn as they come. "They don't call us the stiff-necked people for nothing!" I need to remember as I feel these fresh waves of sorrow, or old waves splashing up on my shore that this didn't happen randomly. There's God's Sovereignty. God's goodness. Not a sparrow falls without Him knowing. His purposes are being done even in the death of these loved ones who may never have come out of the darkness into the light.

I question many things, but I am not questioning my God or His will. His ways are beyond me--and in my better moments, I remember that and worship. Job's response was to worship the Almighty when he lost all of his goods, and then suffered the loss of all ten of his children children (TEN! This boggles my mind and makes me dizzy and stomach sick when I think about it.). Job worshiped--even when his wife could not wasn't coping with her anger so well.

I want to worship, I want to praise, even though my tears are pouring down my face. I thought I was all cried out. I was wrong. I needed to throw myself into the pool and I kept swimming, to find out that even after three years, there are still tears left to cry.

The Makeup Counter

I know that this isn't a makeup counter--but it is a counter of sorts. I'm running this picture because today, I actually went swimming for the first time in about a month and this is supposed to be a blog that talks about swimming as a metaphor for living life in the liquid joy of forgiveness. Now I have done some swimming this year, but have been to busy to blog about it. Now it just feels good to be posting--as good as it felt to get into the water after almost a month...I can't even remember how long ago it was when I last went for a real swim.

It felt good to get into the water--I could feel some of the stress and tension flowing out of me as I kept going forward with steady strokes. Part of me wanted to be lazy and just do a little bit and coddle myself, but I kept saying, OK, just get over yourself, already! Keep going! It wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be--not quite an hour, and 30 laps, so I was pretty happy. I didn't loose too much ground, at least I didn't think that I did. If I had been able to do a full hour, I think I could have done a whole mile...and hopefully it won't be another month till I get to try it. We are headed into a very busy season, and my head is already spinning.

I had various friends and loved ones react to my "catching fire" event in various ways. A few were incredibly sympathetic, but were quite honest in telling me that there was an aspect to the whole thing that made them, giggle, laugh, guffaw, snicker and otherwise have some sillies spill out of them, even though they tried hard to suppress them. Hey, who could blame them? This whole episode has been simply ridiculous, and a grace from God all at the same time--just another thing to help me get over myself. It wasn't the first by a long shot, and it won't be the last I'm afraid. I'm a pathetically slow learner at times. "Through many dangers, toils and snares I have already come, 'Tis grace that brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home." The truth is that God is trying to etch into my heart and mind and soul the kind of math He does as He adds and subtracts from my life. The most important equation to learn is this: Jesus + nothing = Everything!

There's nothing I can do to add to what He's done. He's done the work, and I need to rest in it, and as I rest, put forth my best effort to live for His glory as a thank offering, as that living sacrifice. And whenever that living sacrifice tries to crawl off the altar and run out the door, I'm determined to grab it by the scruff of the neck, and by His grace, haul it back there where it is supposed to be in the first place, because He loves me.

OK, now let's get to the makeup counter. I have to be honest with you--the day I had planned to go with my friend CC's support turned out to be a very wet and nasty day--and we had a very early (4:30 AM to be precise) distress call from Mom and Dad--and I was pretty convinced that I was going to need to make a trip out to the East Bay. So, I called and said, "Girlfriend, I'm sorry, but under the circumstances, I think I'd better hang here, just in case, to be available. But my hubby said he'd go with me on Saturday, so that's the deal."

Well, my dear friend was so excited. Hallelujah--another example of a husband loving his wife the way the Messiah loves His bride! "Take pictures," she said. "Before (without eyebrows) and after (when you are all beautified and your eyebrows are perfectly shaped and gorgeous)."

I have to be honest with you. She wanted me to post them. Well, problem one is that I don't think my pictures are going from my cell phone into the "cloud" whatever that is and my phone is now charging and off. I have to get my son-in-love the computer genius to help me figure that cloud business out at some point! So, I'd have to send the photo to my computer from my phone because I have no idea where they are on the computer, and I'm too tired. But since I won't have my computer for a few days, I won't be able to post--and I don't want to keep you in suspense.

Truth be told, I did take pictures--but my before picture looked hideous to me. My eyes were so puffy and swollen in the aftermath of my flame up. I looked about a hundred-thousand years old (don't you hear my father's voice in the background: "I've told you a MILLION TIMES not to exaggerate!"). At least I felt that when when I looked at my photo. The after picture was a bit better, but believe me--some sights are better left kept under wraps!

So we did our walk by the beach (this photo shows a place where we tend to stop and look at the waves and watch the pelicans fly in formation), and then headed to the mall. Hubby had an errand to do at Eddie Bauer--and he said, "Go to Nordies and get started and I'll meet you there!"

ULP! Holy Moral Support, Batman, you mean I have to do this myself?
So I texted Bex.
"Hon, where should I go, MAC or Clinique?"
"Go to Clinique, they're way nicer!"

Okie dokie--so now I had a place to go. I was absolutely unadorned, in all my "glory" not a drop of makeup anywhere. No eyebrows either. The counter was buzzing, and they weren't even giving away anything at that point. I contemplated forgetting the whole thing. I was very self-conscious of being in my walking clothes and not a "shopping outfit."
There were a boatload of people interested in getting beautified. I was just hoping to come out of the experience looking normal!

A cute gal named Amy finally came over and asked if she could help me. I took a deep breath. "I have a very strange story about why I'm here today, and I'm hoping you won't laugh...."
With that introduction, she was all ears. Amy turned out to be very kind, in addition to being perfectly made up. She also seemed very, very young...I have to tell you, I think that I have some sox in my dresser drawer that are older than she is...but she was so sweet. She was horrified when she heard about the flame up, and had a deeply concerned look on her face in all the right places as I told my story. When I was done she sighed. "Oh, I'm so glad you are OK! It could have been so much worse!" She was so sweet, so sympathetic, that if I had the money, I would have probably been tempted to by one of everything there, because she was so very kind. Good thing that the budget was limited and that my hubby came along shortly after I was seated in the chair, and she was making me eyebrows. That brought me back to reality. (No Virginia, there is no Santa Claus. And if there were, he'd be too poor to buy you the entire Clinique skin and makeup line today!)

I have to say that Amy's a good teache, so if you need faux eyebrows, she's your gal! Amy created one for my left eye, showing me step by step, and then it was my turn to apply the powder over my right eye and create the arch. My first attempt was clumsy and I felt a bit like the bride of Frankenstein on the right side. Amy helped fix it, and we tried it again. It was a little wobbly at first, but by the time I was done with attempt number two, I was fairly happy with it and so was Amy. So I brought the brow powder and a brush to go with it, and was ready to face the world.

As for my husband--I think that he was relieved that I went to Clinique instead of MAC. Some of the men working there looked seriously scary to him, and I'm not sure that he was willing to trust my face into their hands. Or get much closer. Me either. To top it all off, the music emanating from their general direction was loud and obnoxious.

So, when I got do do lunch with my friend CC that next Monday, she took a look at me and kindly said, "You'd never know you caught fire...you look great!"

Ah, what a priceless treasure a faithful friend is. You may look like something the cat dragged in, you may be bedraggled and in need of a major refurbishment and sorting out, but a faithful friend will look past the outside, be very kind about what she may see, and make you feel beautiful and loved and cherished. She'll remind you with a grin, that it won't matter in a hundred years, and you'll laugh, and be thankful that you are the age you are right at the moment.

The same day we did lunch, it occurred to me that I ought to check in with my eye doctor. I'm afraid to tell you how slow on the uptake I am! My doc was horrified, on one hand, but also had trouble trying not to laugh at the fact that I was more worried about my vaporized eyebrows than my eyes. Turns out my eyes are fine, and I just need some liquid tears for a few days so I'm comfy. Don't worry, she said, the brows will grow back.

We have an early flight tomorrow, so I'm going to post this now.
And my daughter was right--they are way nicer at Clinique...

Going up in Flames!

Hello, dear friends, so here I am once again. I'm not doing as much swimming these days as I'd like but I am trying to get in the water once in a while, when I'm not dealing with some kind of respiratory bug that seems to attack me on alternate weeks, when I'm exhausted with running about from here to the East Bay and back again. Anyway, I digress...

My dear friend CC insisted I post this story, and I'm going to do it. After all, why should I pretend to have my act together? Heaven only knows that I don't, so why should I keep that knowledge from you, my faithful fellow swimmers? It's time to come clean...well, you'll see what I mean!

I had a scary thing happen last night--
When we came home, the house was as cold as a granite mausoleum. The pilot light in our gas furnace was off --the wind must have blown it out when the garage door opened when I left early in the windy, rainy morning. So my dear husband, being the man of the house, manfully attempted to re-light it. It had been a long day at work for him, and he had taken the BART out to the East Bay to join me in visiting his folks, and while we had a lovely visit with them, we were both hungry, cold and fighting grumpiness. It had been a cold and hard rainy day--in some respects we were both really tired out from it.

So, neither of us could bear the thought of being in the house without any heat. After some sincerely brave attempts, the pilot was still off. My hubby went upstairs in frustration, and I thought, OK, I've got to figure this out or we are going to have a miserable night.

So I asked for the Lord to help me--a half prayer--not realizing how stupid I could be in
poking about into something I had the theory for but not the experience with.
I had seen our handyman re-light this thing before--I just didn't remember that he had used a long handled match to do it with--that was my first mistake. Hang on here friends, it only get better...

I took the long handled gizmo we use to light the fireplace with (it's got lighter fluid in it and produces a flame at the end, but for the life of me, I'm not remembering what to call it at this point), I got it to light, (no easy feat, I tell you) pressed the button to turn on the pilot and put it where you are supposed to in order to light the thing up.
The pilot caught, and I removed the lighter, and twisted the dial and FOOM!
A big whoosh of flame came out, and I moved back fast as I could (I was on my knees).
It caught me in the face, and I heard a crackle.
Long story short, some of my hair in the front got singed off,
my eyebrows are singed off, and I feel like a circus attraction.
My sweet hubby was horrified that I had hurt myself.
My forehead, my eye sockets were bright pink.
The furnace was on again, but I was a mess.
I splashed my face with cold water.
I was shedding bits of burnt hair all over the sink!
I was in shock--I jumped in the shower to wash off all the burned smell.
I laughed, and then I cried, somewhat hysterically.
Oy, what a mess I am!
And I kept thinking--Lord, You are Sovereign, what are You trying to help me see that I need to see that I can't seem to get? I didn't think I was that vain, but walking around on our upcoming travels without my eyebrows seems daunting.
I found an old eye pencil in my makeup bag and drew some in a little. I felt just a bit better.
It didn't look as awful as I thought it would. But I'm no beauty contest winner, that for sure!

I remember that when I was in Junior high some of the girls thought it was the height of style to shave off their eyebrows and then pencil new ones in place. I thought it looked dreadful back then. Well, now that this has happened to me, courtesy of my own stupidity, I see that I was right all along about that!

My beloved knew that comforting and gentle words were called for. He looked me straight in the eyes, (his eyes never lie) and said, "Your hair looks fine, no one will notice it, don't worry, you look beautiful to me, you don't look like a freak." Then helpfully he said to me, "You have to go get some of your favorite body lotion anyway before we hit the road, so go to Nordstrom to one of those beauty counters and ask them to help you with what you can do with makeup till your brows grow back to normal."

Brilliant idea, right? So why do I have that crazy sinking sensation that I used to get whenever I would stand up to sing a solo in junior high choir and everyone was staring at me?
Oy, I am a mess! Why does presenting myself at the cosmetic counter in this hairless state make me feel nervous and unsettled and semi-miserable? Is it my pride making the idea of going to one of those perfect ladies from Nordstrom and asking for help my problem thoroughly abhorrent? Will they laugh after I leave or will they be unable to contain themselves and laugh in my face? And why in the world should I care about that?

My lovely daughter offered to drive all the way in today to hold my hand so I could do this.
I declined her generous offer--this is her errand day, and she's got stuff she needs to do.

My life sometimes feels like a chapter in the Perils of Pauline!

This is one wild, rambling post and if you have stayed with me thus far, you have more intestinal fortitude than most, and I am grateful.

When I think about it, I am profoundly grateful for another reason. It isn't lost on me that this little debacle could have been infinitely worse. I'm a bit singed but still here, and I'm still planning on swimming in God's love while I laugh at my own silliness and absolute need for His grace. Every day I get a fresh demonstration of my need for Him. There's actually a great deal of freedom in being able to post this whole mess here!

So, here's the deal--I wrote all about this to my dear CC, complete with my panic attack about the Nordstrom ladies and she came up with a different spin altogether. She has a delicious sense of the ridiculous and CC unfurled a scenario that I could picture as if it were a movie: "You go to the MAC counter, and some adorable gay guy with makeup brushes galore comes to your rescue. 'DAH-ling, what EVER did you DO TO YOURSELF' he croons at you in a silky voice. Suddenly, you are gorgeous thanks to his miraculous brush work, and you learn how to do this genius stuff yourself and are now going around splendiferous, all the time. Oh, what fun it would be to go to Nordies with you, to watch the whole thing happen!"

So now, you guessed it--I'm seriously contemplating driving to get CC at lunch-time, tomorrow, making the trip to the downtown Nordies and going for it. She says I should milk it for all I'm worth! I'm going to need to go out and buy a box of chutzpah flakes. I must be insane to be thinking of doing this. Or in desperate need of a good laugh. Or eyebrows. Or perhaps both! But my hubby gave me permission--even encouraged me to do this. Why not?

So, tune in next time for our next episode of "The Woman who had no Eyebrows." It's sure to be quite a wild one, especially if CC comes along to help make it so!

Personal Best

We've been dealing with a lot of hard things--so I've been swimming some, but not posting at all. Today, I just have to take a moment to say that I'm grateful for being able to get into the pool today, and for hitting a new personal best--47 laps in this work out! That's a two more laps than a mile and a quarter--and I'm pinching myself. A mile and a half in our pool is 54 laps--and for the first time, I'm thinking that I might actually get strong enough to do that--some day if I keep on swimming.

So what does that have to do with this duck in the parking lot? Not much except he's not in his element--far from it. He was just walking around, looking confused and I snapped this photo of him looking bewildered.

Note to self: When you are walking in circles, and bewildered, perhaps you've made the mistake of leaving the place where you really belong...

Fresh fish, and good swimming!

Here you have a big fish in a big fix! A few weeks ago, my sweetie and I drove down to the water to our friend Mr. Morgan who regularly comes in with beautiful, fresh fish straight from his boat. We wanted a repeat performance of our beautiful fresh fish dinner from a few months back, and when the email came we were excited to take our walk on the pier and check out what the fresh catch was. This is a big, beautiful black cod whose moments were certainly numbered. Another family picked this big boy out of the tank, and our fisherman friend Ben hoisted him up as neatly as you please onto the scale. He gave him to his little boy to hold (he must have been about 5 or six) and he nearly staggered with the sheer weight of it. The fish was surprisingly docile. Perhaps he was resigned to his fate, who really knows how a fish thinks anyway? Mr. Fish was weighed, and then taken off to a table where we heard "thud! THUD!" After "the deed was done," the fish was packaged in ice, money was exchanged and the folks went off to the store where they would get their very fresh fish cleaned for a few bucks.

I was amazed. One moment swimming away in the water--the next...
I had never seen a fish with gills so beautifully bright and pink--they were a beautiful fuschia color and nothing short of remarkable. The color was something you expect from a flower and not from a fish at all. In some ways it was sad to see such a vibrantly alive creature dead in a moment, but after all, God created these things for us to enjoy. I just don't like to think about how they get to that state where we can enjoy them--at least not very much!

We bought two lovely Dover Sole to have cleaned and filleted for us and he generously threw in a sand dab (which looks like an itty bitty baby sole) for us to try. When we got home, I actually tried my hand (thank you, Julia Child) at making fish stock from the head and bones which we took with us from the folks who filleted our fish...I'm saving the stock in the freezer, hopefully to use as a base to make us a nice chowder when it gets colder.) The sand dab was delicious, but to be honest, my hubby would rather have fish that is perfectly filleted with no bones, so I enjoyed the buttery little sand dab mostly myself.

I'm thankful that this has been such a good month for swimming--12 times in the pool and three of those times I have swum a mile and a quarter! Now, I never thought I'd be doing that. OK, all you athletes out there--don't you be laughing now. I thought I was pretty hot stuff, till I found out that my friend Lynn does two miles regularly, without batting an eye. But she's a swim coach, and if she isn't able to be doing some serious miles, there's a problem there!

I'm determined to just keep swimming. Now, if I could only "just keep writing" I'd be doing a much better job of becoming the writer I want to be. I'm becoming a better swimmer because I'm practicing that, and I love it. There's hardly any resistance anymore when I decide to go for a swim. I just get my gear and go, and I'm pretty happy about it, because I love it so much. I hope that I can begin to tackle my writing with the same kind of passion and enthusiasm, and that I will be able to write for the glory of God. I guess that this last month has been all about dealing with my motivation. Why do I want to write anyway? Do I really have anything to say worth reading? What is going on in my heart? All these thoughts run round in my head, but I guess the important thing is to deal with my motivation to make sure it is right.

These last several years have all been about God pruning me.
I've discovered that His subtraction is better than the addition of any other.
There were heavy weights around me, and I couldn't swim at all!
I was having trouble breathing.

And now, because of my Messiah,
I'm learning to swim in the love of God.
I'm learning to trust.
I'm learning to rest.
I'm thankful.
End of story for today, but I plan to go swimming later...

Swimming again, but hardly posting...

I haven't posted much for quite a while--I've barely been on the computer, because of a lot of pressing things, but I have been swimming again. A few days ago, I actually swam 45 laps--that's a mile and a quarter! I surprised myself, to tell you the truth. I wish that I had the time to swim every day but that's not reality. Three times a week--if I plan it right, that is do-able.

The big question for me is how to achieve balance with all of this--how to make sure that I fit in exercising, with all the other things that God has given me responsibility over. I know that if I don't take care of my body, I will eventually be in a state where I cannot do what I would wish to do. Age, wrinkles and gravity eventually catch up with us all. Exercise helps to keep us moving. Before you hit the 50 mark, you tend to take it for granted that you can move, but afterwards, when the aches and pains begin to set in, you realize that your physics teacher was right! A body at rest does tend to stay at rest, and a body in motion...well, you get the drift, I'm sure.

For the wealthy and the famous, there's liposuction, personal trainers, plastic surgeons, and an army of makeup artists to stay off the inevitable as long as possible, or at least give the appearance of doing so. But if your ugly goes deep to the bone because you've concentrated on your outside appearance and not your heart, that's really a sad thing. There is a remedy for that, but it takes humility and courage to embrace Him. The remedy is in a person, God's gift to us, Y'shua, and His atoning sacrifice. Accept no substitutes, for nothing you would substitute will be acceptable in the sight of a Holy God. That's the bad news. The good news, if you embrace it, is downright glorious! God accepts ruined sinners if they put their trust in the Messiah that He sent.

So suppose you aren't wealthy and don't have an army of personal stylists at your disposal. For the rest of us, we just have to do the best we can with what we've got, and be thankful that we don't have the paparazzi up in our faces 24/7. That's God's grace to us, I am sure! If you know Y'shua, the glorious truth is that one day, you will have a new body, that will be glorious, and perfect, like His. How we are dressed won't matter--all of His people will be dressed in robes of His righteousness, and we will look amazing because we will be dressed in His splendor--but no one will notice anything or anyone but Him. HIS beauty will totally captivate us and bowl us over with delight, awe and wonder. He will be the centerpiece of our affections and sin will be thoroughly abolished in our hearts never to cloud His beauty again. Being in His presence then will give us more complete joy and satisfaction than anything we ever experienced here on earth.

If I wasn't convinced of this, I would say, "Yeah, go ahead, eat, drink, be merry, whatever--live your best life now, because in the immortal words of Peggy Lee, that is all that there is!" Anyone who tells you to focus on living your best life now, is selling you snake oil, people. Run for the hills. Jesus warned us to be careful how we build...

²⁴ “Therefore everyone who hears these words of Mine and acts on them, may be compared to a wise man who built his house on the rock. ²⁵ And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and slammed against that house; and yet it did not fall, for it had been founded on the rock. ²⁶ Everyone who hears these words of Mine and does not act on them, will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. ²⁷ The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and slammed against that house; and it fell—and great was its fall.”

That's from Matthew 7, by the way. All that is to say that what we do now will matter then, and matter greatly. Even why we exercise, eat healthy (or not!) matters. God is always after our hearts, looking to rescue our hearts in the midst of our mundane, daily life. That's why our Messiah came in the first place--He loved us from before the foundation of the world and before Adam sinned, He had planned to rescue a people for Himself! This is the whole message of the Bible, from Genesis to Revelation.

Now, quite honestly, I know that this is a fairly random post. I'm not going swimming today--there are other things on the agenda that need to be done, but I do want this day to be a day where I'm continuing to build on the foundation that He has laid--by His grace, through faith in what He's plainly declared in the Scriptures. And I wanted to get back and post. He's great and glorious. Let's live for Him vigorously now. There may not be a tomorrow...so let's live it to the full while He's graciously given it to us!

Keep swimming in His love, everyone. And if you don't know what that means, I'm available for coffee or conversation.

Little Grass Shack!

So, what would you buy for this gorgeous little house on Maui, not to far from a marine preserve? This is one of those amazing places--and there was a for sale sign on it and everything when we were there. Oh, I have to tell you, that in my wildest dreams, I'd end up in a house like that. Which I suppose shows just how wild my dreams can get.

The truth of the matter is, all of us in the US are more wealthy, more comfortable than many other people in the world--and our current state of affairs, even though they be poor ones, show us to be wealthier than many on the planet.

I went to the vegetable market today and filled our fridge with good things. Many people don't have a fridge, and consider themselves blessed to have one meal a day. And we don't stop to say "Thank You" to the One who is "the giver of every good and perfect gift."

Sometimes, His gifts come in funny wrapping paper and it is hard to recognize them as gifts at all. The loss of a job. The loss of a relationship. The loss of a loved one, who fought valiantly against the ravages of cancer. Those crisis points--a sudden surgery, a sudden accident seem like rotten intruders. BUT--and this is big--when God brings something into our lives, it is for our ultimate good and His glory. If we love a job more than Him, we need a reality check, because He's the King of the Universe. If we love any human person more than Him, they have become for us an idol. But when we give Him first place in our lives, when He gets the surrender of our hearts, and our wills to His--wow. Because everyone has trouble--hey, we live in a sin filled world. But if you know the Messiah, He turns those troubles to gold in your life. He refines you in the process and makes you more able to see His goodness and His plan. And when you don't crumble like a cracker people under the stress, because you are abiding in Him, people wonder what you're doing that's so different. And then you can tell them that you have a faithful, loving, Great God most High who has lavished His love on you in Messiah and He makes no mistakes. I don't need this little grass shack. What He's preparing for me because He's poured His grace on my heart and opened my eyes to my sin and need for forgiveness is HUGE. Heaven is way better than Hawaii. One day, because of a righteousness that has been gifted to me, that I don't deserve, I will be there. And the flowers will be more fragrant than any I've ever smelled here. There won't be a sun, the Lord will be the Light. No tears, no crying, no sorrow, no illness, no pain. In the meantime, I want to help as many people as I can go there too! There's an invitation with your name on it...now is the time to RSVP.....
Click on the link below to discover your invitation to joy in Him:

http://viewthestory.com/1475

Some days are a bit of a challenge

I love this photo of a hibiscus blossom that we found on one of our walks on Maui. It was here today, and two days later it was withered and gone. The grass withers, and so does the flowers, but the Word of our God will stand forever, last forever. Today was an unexpected kind of a day for me. My plans had fallen through--and what happened instead was something not quite so high stress, high demand on me. I guess I needed a quieter day than I had originally planned.

It is hard to be "home alone" much harder than I thought it would be. I swam on Monday, and again today. Monday, I did two "victory laps" for my husband who was winging his way on the way to Israel. I was praying as I counted strokes, repeating just how many laps I had done (because I forget so easily as I'm swimming). So instead of my usual 36, I did 38. Today, I bumped it up to 40. Another five laps, and I'll be doing a mile and a quarter. It has been a long time since I tried to add laps, and it's about time. I'm hovering very, very close to a "new number" that I want to be in, and in order for it to happen, I have to move more.

Speaking of moving, last night, I was sitting in my chair with my feet up, reading my Bible and I felt movement. I wasn't sure what it was. Was it an earthquake? You've got to understand that I'm from New England, generally a very sensible place where the earth doesn't move so much. Not so California, where all of this lovely mountainous beauty comes with a price--mountains, volcanoes, tectonic plates deciding to move...it happened more than once. But I stayed blissfully ignorant, merely because I have decided pretty much to keep the TV off while Steve my beloved is away on this adventure. We had peace about me not coming along--and no peace about me going, so the best thing to do under those circumstances is to obey what you believe is God informing you of what you should be doing.

Now, I may change my mind about TV viewing as we get to the end of this trip because it is the longest time we've had away since we decided that whenever possible, I would go with him. Sometimes it is nice to know what's going on in the world--but mostly it has been bad news left and right. So while he's gone, I want to especially concentrate on the Good News that Y'shua loves me and is changing me--even though sometimes change seems slow and hard as adding a lap or two to your swim.

Today I swam...and did some errands. One dear lady at the pool was singing in the shower--"I did my swim, now I'm going to do a little lunch, and then to top it all off, I'm going to take a little nap!"

That little song kept playing in my head while I did my errands. When I got home I took her advice...had a little lunch and took a little nap.
That turned out to be very good advice!

A Bit of Honey for the heart....

I haven't posted anything for a while--not because I haven't been swimming, but because life has been so busy. I didn't quite hit my swimming goal for 2010, but that's ok...this is a new year, with new possibilities as well as new challenges. So far this year, I've done a mile in the pool five times--and considering how busy things have been, I'm ok with that. I remember when I could only go 10 laps before I felt "done in." I remember when the idea of lap swimming seemed ridiculous to me. So I'm grateful for where I am at with this, because I know it is because of God's graciousness that I'm able to do these laps at all...

We all need a bit of honey for the heart. And thinking about victories won, progress made, even though it is very small and incremental is good---thinking about the goodness of God and His faithfulness is a real help. Right now, we are dealing with a number of situations that are hard and heartbreaking, but the Lord's Word continues to be sweet, and is providing honey for our hearts in a time that could make our spirits sour if we allowed it. But by the grace of God, we are continuing to swim through these waters together with peace from Him, which is not of our doing, but our Messiah's.

A funny thing happened on the way to Thanksgiving

Fall is one of my favorite times of the year, but Fall in California is no where near as lovely as Fall in New England, where I am from. I do miss the beautiful leaves turning, en mass, but we do have leaves that turn. I nabbed this photo as we were driving, and the various shades of oranges put me into a thankful mode. God could have made everything all one color, but He's too generous with His gifts to do that. He's painted His glory in the trees, the leaves, the flowers, the mountains, and in our cells. If we stop for a moment to listen, we'll hear "glory, glory!" coming from all of creation. If we stop. If we listen. We'll realize that there's Someone, "with Whom we have to do."

This year for Thanksgiving we invited a whole bunch of people, but for various reasons, in spite of our best efforts, we are just going to be four of us this year. In one way, it is nice, because today is our 32nd wedding anniversary, and there's something very sweet and intimate about having it be just my daughter and son-in-law and us here to celebrate together, and be thankful. I have an ache in my heart because I'm missing my son and daughter-in-law very much today, but there is still so much to be grateful for. So, I'm counting my blessings today. I'm choosing to count my blessings, and not my sorrows, and to savor in the delights of a beautiful, clear, crisp fall day here in San Francisco.

Of course, the weather could quickly turn and we could get socked in with fog, but even if it does, that will be fine with me. For now, it is glorious, and pretty and I just saw a hummingbird flitting around outside the window again. The turkey is out on the Webber Kettle in the backyard, and my daughter is making her spectacular Apple Cranberry Pie with homemade vanilla pastry cream, and I'm wondering if I can possibly manage a tiny piece of it, without totally blowing my eating plan to smithereens. It is that good--I guarantee it--and my mother would be proud of what a proficient baker she's become.

I'm realizing more and more that God, by design, puts us by sovereign grace into the families we need to be in, just so we can have the best opportunity possible to acknowledge His love and Lordship, now while we can. (One day, everyone on the planet from potentates to paupers will acknowledge Y'shua as Lord, but on that day, for some it will be in fear and anger and out of compulsion, not in reverent worship and awe) So I'm thankful as never before for the family I grew up in, for the place of pain and heartache that He scooped me out of in His grace. I would never have known that I was so desperately needy of His grace and mercy, had I been born anywhere else--I'm convinced of it. I have much to be grateful for, and I'm determined to be grateful even if sin has marred some of my joys on this side of eternity. As Paul Tripp has said, we do live in a broken down house of a world because of sin. But there is a Redeemer, who has come to make our hearts new and rescue us. He's actively seeking those who know they need rescue and mercy. I count myself grateful to be needing His rescue even more than I ever did before.

Sweet Sleep of a child

Here's one for the true confessions department. This is a stealth photo. I took it while I was in my local Trader Joe's trying to get a little shopping in. The store was CROWDED with people, who had the same idea at the same time. It wasn't quite a madhouse, mind you, but it did take some fancy driving, as I negotiated my way down the crowded isles (my son would have been impressed!). But I saw something so lovely, so beautiful, that it stopped me in my tracks. In the middle of all that cacophony, I saw this little guy in his stroller, with his eyes closed, sleeping deeply. There was even a little whiffle I could hear, not quite a snore, as he breathed in and out, totally oblivious to the noisy adults all around him.

So I pulled out my i-phone, and as quickly as I could (and as close as I dared to get) I snapped a few shots. This was the best of the lot, which shows you how much of a Chicken Little I am by nature. The body attitude of this little guy reminded me of a Psalm that has become so precious to me in recent days, Psalm 131:

Psalm 131

Childlike Trust in the LORD.

A Song of Ascents, of David.

¹O LORD, my heart is not proud, nor my eyes haughty;
Nor do I involve myself in great matters,
Or in things too difficult for me.
²Surely I have composed and quieted my soul;
Like a weaned child rests against his mother,
My soul is like a weaned child within me.
³O Israel, hope in the LORD
From this time forth and forever.

This is just three little verses, but they are packed with meaning. These verses reveal how we can be at rest--even when our worlds are coming apart at the seams. We can rest in Him, lay back on Him, and in realizing how weak we are, rest in His strength alone.

I think of all the times my heart has been stirred up, and I realize as I read this Psalm that I must never forget that the Sovereign God of the universe is working all out for the good of His people, and for the glory of His Name, no matter how messy life is. He redeems us--and that work needs to go deep within our hearts, so we produce the kind of rest that Y'shua demonstrated as He walked on the earth, experiencing what we do, yet without sin. He was always at rest with the Father, even when his life was full of activity.

This Psalm has become my friend. When my heart is a mess, I'm going to this Psalm and taking the medicine. Do I need to jettison my pride? Do I need to give something too big for me to the One who can really handle it best? I do, and then I can rest, just like this little fellow, in the midst of the cacophony around me.

Keeping a promise

I swam today, and I'm dog tired. Perhaps it is because when I said to my beloved "I can't believe that we'll be married 32 years on Thanksgiving," he dead-panned with, "Imagine how much time that is in dog-years!" I looked at him for a moment and then totally broke up with laughter. My brain was too fried to figure it out, but one thought did cross my mind. That's one great piece of advice that my Mama gave me years ago, "Marry a man who makes you laugh!" I did, and he does and I'm constantly amused by my hubby's humor.

We can laugh together, and we can cry together. I'm grateful that we've grown so much that we rarely make each other cry, but we do cry over things that need crying and praying over, and I'm grateful that we can do it together. There's something powerful about praying together over those kind of things, and handing it over to Someone who knows the best way to deal with it. Our wedding verse was Proverbs 3:5-6 and it still is something we need to think about daily. Am I trusting in the Lord with all my heart? Am I leaning on His wisdom or my own understanding? Am I acknowledging Him in all my ways?
That's a lot to say grace over, but freeing as we work hard to apply it, and grow in His wisdom together. Even now--especially now in this season of life.

So, I'm keeping my promise by posting this blog. I'm making it short because I'm so tired, that I'm about to fall asleep on the keyboard! Our anniversary falls right on Thanksgiving this year. We got married on Thanksgiving weekend so many years ago, largely because of my beloved's work and school schedule. We had just a little weekend honeymoon, and then it was back to the grind. But instead of diminishing Thanksgiving by adding an anniversary to it, it has expanded our desire to thank the One who brought us together, and has kept us together all these years. We are still laughing. And when we cry, we hand each other the tissues, and wipe away each other's tears. I'm more grateful for that than I can tell you!

"Marry a man who makes you laugh," Mama said. I would add, "Marry a man with a heart--a heart for God, a heart for His Word, a heart for the hurting, and a heart of good humor." It's been my blessing to have had all those gifts in my beloved. Throw the confetti, folks! There is much to celebrate and I'm grateful to be married to my best friend.

No thanks--I'd rather have boysenberry!

I have to admit, that "traffic jam" is my least favorite kind of jam in all the world. This photo was taken from the passenger seat of our van just a few weeks ago, on a very sunny day, when my husband was driving me to Office Depot to get a new ribbon for our printer. We were totally out of black ink, and I desperately needed to print something. So, my hero came to the rescue, and drove us to the store, when he truly just wanted to get home and be done with driving for the day.

There are some who feel that "no good deed goes unpunished," a rather gruesome and cynical way of looking at life, in my estimation. However, when we ran into a traffic jam that looked like it was going to be endless, I began to fret. My husband can be incredibly patient--but it had been a very long day, and the last thing either of us wanted was to be stuck on the road waiting for the vehicle owners to remember that the gas pedal is the one on the right. I sighed and shot up a silent prayer, hoping for the best.

We crawled up the road slowly, a few inches at a time. And then we saw the flashing lights, the flipped over car, the fire truck, two police cars, some people standing on the road, and a paramedic vehicle. It was ugly, to say the least. Life in a fallen world. Shot up another prayer, and once we got past the wreck, people began to drive as if they knew how once again.
"Why, why? Tell me that it's human nature..." It's human nature to stare at car wrecks, train wrecks, and ring your hands in despair. Despair can become an ugly giant. "I would have despaired, unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord, in the land of the living. Wait on the Lord, be strong let your heart take courage, yes, wait on the Lord."

That's the best counsel I can give, when your carefully laid plans get disrupted, by the worst kind of jam, a traffic jam. Pray, and wait. Be thankful that you can still move. Pray for the rescue crew, and for those needing rescue. Slow down, while you are at it. Be careful out there, please! The rainy season is just starting, so don't be in a rush. People who love you deeply will miss you greatly, if you act foolishly behind the wheel.

In the deep, once again

I had a chance to swim last Thursday and then on Saturday morning and again today, which was delightful. I think I'm back into a rhythm once again--at least I hope so. I'm so thankful that the ears have cleared up, and that I'm back at it because once you stop, it isn't so easy to get started (that old, "a body at rest remains at rest, a body in motion remains in motion" sort of thing from your high school physics class that you never paid attention to but now seems to make more sense than it ever did because YOU are the body!). Last week was such a busy, stressful week, and it was a gift to be able to swim and let it all go, and leave it all behind in the pool.

It is hard to pray while you swim. I lose count of what lap I'm on and to tell you the truth, because I do have a goal (to swim 50 miles by the end of December) I am trying to keep a fairly accurate count. I used to try to pray and count by doing some silly word associations: I'm thankful for You, the One God who is King of all. I'm thankful for the two tablets of the Law and how they tell us of your righteous standards. I'm thankful for the fact that you have revealed yourself as a perfect Echad, a unity of Three Persons in one glorious God...well, you get the picture. Unfortunately, I'm not always clever to figure out what I can say next in keeping with the Bible theme (especially when you get to lap 29+ you can paint yourself into a corner with your metaphors!) What usually happens is, if I don't remember what number I'm on, I do an extra lap, just in case.

The forecast said that it was likely to rain on Saturday and Sunday which dismayed us a bit because it is hard to move house in the rain, and that's what our daughter and son-in-love were going to be doing, moving house. The wonderful thing that happened was, that it did rain, but not until everything was moved. A small army of dear people helped, and I continue to be thankful for the community that God has gifted us with. It is wonderful to see the "one-anothers" of Scripture being lived out in practical ways through people who really want to follow the Messiah not just in words, but in deeds of love.

We were able to do our walk Saturday, but Sunday we woke up at 5 AM to the sound of a very hard rain hitting the windows and the skylight. It rained quite a bit--where did that glorious heat wave go when the Giants had their celebratory parade in the city, anyway? It felt like winter had arrived, and to be honest, I am not ready for it...not at all.

We had an unexpected gift--we wanted to walk and after we read the paper in the mid-afternoon, it seemed that there was actually some blue sky out there--enough for us to get our exercise shoes on and head down to the water before the weather changed its mind again. We did our entire walk, and looked out at the water, which kept changing, watching the play of the clouds. Then right before our eyes, the weather was turning again. The clouds were growing thick and dark, and my hubby said, "We'd better get going or we are going to get wet!" So, of course, I had to stop and snap this photo. It looked as if God was painting the sky again, using a scumbling brush to get the puffy, fluffy effect of those beautiful clouds.

Even with hooded sweatshirts on to keep our heads covered, the idea of getting wet wasn't appealing to my sweetheart, so he urged me to put away the phone and concentrate on walking. So I managed to snap this, and I really like it.

We can pray while we walk, and we do. We talk while we walk and the fact that we were able to have this unexpected time because the weather cleared and gave us a window was so very wonderful. Now that we've changed the clocks, it may not be so easy to do our evening walks--it is dark down there, and unfortunately, isn't very well lit. We'll have to figure out a clever work-around.

Professor Horner's Bible reading plan

This is a picture of my beautiful daughter, in her kitchen, with a tray full of beautiful bread that she made for her small group dinner. My girl is an amazing baker--my mother, who loved baking would be kvelling to know that her granddaughter is following in her footsteps. There is a notable difference however. Mama wasn't much of a cook, but she surely could bake. Challah, coffee cakes of various sorts, yeasty cinnamon rolls, cakes with streusel on top...well, you get the picture. My daughter is not just a good home cook--she's got the makings of an excellent chef, because she does things with a great sense of artistry and beauty. She takes simple ingredients, and turns them into an amazing feast in short order, and serves it all up with that great big beautiful smile of hers that lights up her whole face. She loves being a blessing to others, whether it is bringing food for the body or food for the soul. Quite honestly, she makes me want to be more like Y'shua !Isn't that a blessing and a half! :-)

Who doesn't love the smell of fresh baking bread? Who wouldn't love the chance to dig into a warm, crusty loaf with some lovely butter to spread on it? All right. Enough of this. I'm making myself hungry, even as I'm typing. There are four or five different sorts of breads on this tray (and they well all delicious--trust me on this one!). There was only one problem with this. The wonderful bread that you bake and eat, however delicious won't last in you. You'll get hungry again. The bread we enjoy from our ovens or local bakery is bread that won't satisfy forever.

Pursuing the real bread, the living bread that will last and keep you satisfied is something that our 21st century largely disdains. "Go for all the gusto you can, because that's all there is."
There's an answer to that: "The fool says in his heart that there is no God." "Seek the living bread which came down out of heaven."

God shows Himself in two ways, Psalm 19 declares. The heavens are constantly declaring His glory through the created world. If we respond with a heart that wants to know the One who made it, He will always, always, give us more light. He's faithful to do that because He wants us to live in His presence. In fact, "not by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds out of the mouth of God."

At the Reclamation Project conference this weekend I heard the most wonderful teaching on The Biblical perspective on Culture by Dr. Grant Horner. (That wasn't the only thing, but this post will be oppressively long if I let my self go off on a tangent about it!) The man is brilliant, but speaks as if he doesn't realize it--and that if he does, he's going to be careful to give all the glory and honor for any ability to God. A wise posture for all of us to emulate! This brother is a formerly drugged out, tripped out, messed up fella who was scooped into the embrace of the Messiah in such a way that he was totally surprised. God chose him, and wham, everything changed! He started to read his Bible voraciously and came up with a reading plan, which he shared in an aside as he was making a point. www.scribd.com/doc/12349985/Professor-Grant-Horners-Bible-Reading-System I wrote it down as a note, because he challenged us to Google it and try it for 30 days to see what would happen to our hearts through the living Bread. Well, I've taken the challenge, and I want to invite you to do the same.

Read what he says in his blog post about the system with an open mind. I think that this could rock our lives in a wonderful way, in a way we need at the core of who we are! I have longed to know God's Word in a way that is deep and systematic, and life changing (and I'm talking about my life, dear ones!). I have been praying for a way to understand, to be able to soak it in so I can share truth with confidence and clarity and I feel as if I've had a "Eureka!" moment as I was reading about this system. I actually was crying--"yes, yes!" as I was reading.

I believe that this is going to be a huge help to swimming out deeper into the amazing love of God shown in our Messiah. One of my friends from our church ladies Bible study told me that she was intrigued when Dr. Horner talked about it and she googled it, downloaded it and was tremendously excited as she had just started. This sister is one of those wise women who knows the Lord and loves His Word. She eats it like bread, and she was excited that this would help her grow deeper.

So, I've put the links in for you. You don't have to go hunting around for it. Just begin. Let's see together what God will do for us as we begin to feast on His Word. A significant quote from Dr. Horner's plan: "The key is to get into a habit for a month. Then you'll see you've probably been starving yourself....After just a few days the reading gets much easier; in a month it will be a habit, and in six months, you'll wonder how you ever survived before on such a slim diet of the WORD. And then--you'll tell others to start the system!!"

So I've started. Today is day two. If you choose to do this, let me know so I can root for you too.
And you and I read, read, read His Words of life, may we learn to be utterly satisfied and joyful in Him in a way we never dreamed of before. Because in His presence is fullness of joy, and all Scripture is God-breathed and as He breathes His life into us, we have shalom (we also have conviction over sin, but that's another post! you don't get to shalom without dealing with that).

And, yes, I do plan to go swimming this morning, but first things first!

http://www.the-reclamation-project.com/

RE: Long time no hear

Sometimes you spend time living life to the point where being on the internet seems like a waste of time. I'm grateful to be recovered from my post-trip ear infection which kept me out of the pool. And that's ok. I so much wanted to hit 50 miles by December, and I don't know if I'm going to make it or not. Perfectionism isn't all that it's cracked up to be, and quite frankly, I'm counting on the perfections of Another, my Messiah. I'm learning that I can rest in Him, really rest in Him. A brilliant book by Dr. David Powlison called "Seeing With New Eyes" has been a huge help to me. I am learning to look through the lens of Scripture in new ways, and that's really changing things. It's a bit of honey for the heart, as it were. So I'm writing to say that I'm thankful for so much today--and even thought there is much that is still slightly askew in my world (at least in the perfect world of my imagination, I am thankful that I can rest in the perfections of Y'shua. He's sees the end from the beginning, and is always at work. I'm still hoping to reach some goals that I've prayerfully set, but those goals don't seem nearly as important as learning how to love as He loves and walk as He walked. Goodbye, blah-ville. I'm taking the exit ramp ahead and don't intend to look back in the rear view mirror for any amount of money. :-)

That Stuffy Head Feeling

This photo was taken at Ocean Beach on October 2. The morning was misty and moist when I got up to go to the pool for a swim. I needed to go for a swim because I was about to go out of town for a few days, and I didn't think I'd be able to find a place to swim where I was going, or the time to actually get one. Still, even though I knew I needed to do it, I found that my enthusiasm was sadly in short supply. It was so hard to get myself into the pool that morning--I felt cold, and while I knew that once I started swimming that I would warm up, it took sitting on the side of the pool for a good five minutes to convince myself to take the plunge, already. I was so glad that I did--the endorphins kicked in when I was showering off afterward, and I had that great sense of well-being you get when you know that you've done something good for yourself that you were resistant to but did anyway. I had to fight for it though--that's what surprised me.

My hope was that after breakfast, the sun would come out and warm things up for our walk, but it was still kind of misty outside when my husband and I finally went out around 11:30 in the morning. We needed our jackets because it was cool, but we didn't mind. At first, when we got to the beach, we thought that we might not be able to get a parking place, there were so many cars! What in the world was going on? The beach was full of people with different colored t-shirts, in groups as if they were teams. There were people all over the place, walking along the water, and walking on the beach. There were tents and banners, and a lot of excitement with people energetically digging in the sand. We were walking past the annual sand castle contest at Ocean Beach. I saw a team of excited children from the elementary school a few blocks away from our house, wearing their "Robert Louis Stevenson" shirts with a great deal of pride, smiling and laughing.

I took this photo from the Cliff House as we were returning from our walk and it was still foggy around 1:30 in the afternoon. I hoped to post something a week ago Saturday, but simply ran out of energy and time. I was too busy living life to be blogging, I guess! I was also getting ready for an early morning flight the next day, and had to pack. More about that later, but I simply wanted to post this tonight. I haven't been back in the pool since the 2nd, but not because I haven't wanted to. Sometimes your best laid plans go astray. I came back from my trip with a virus and have to wait till my ears clear up to swim. I haven't felt like doing very much since last Thursday, when this virus caught up to me and knocked me off my feet. At some point, I hope to swim. Right now, my eyes are watering, which is about as "swimming" any of me is going to get, for a while, I suppose.

Swimming through deep waters

Dealing with grief feels like swimming through deep waters--where you are at the bottom and keep moving, moving, moving towards the surface, hoping that you get there before your lungs explode. Gasping and flailing about, you are grateful that you made it up for the breath you were dying for, because you thought that you just weren't going to make it. ("Just when you thought it was safe to go into the water...")

Ever since the high holidays I have been hit with fresh waves of grief over the loss of my brother. It surprised me. I've been doing pretty well, and have been at peace for the most part. Every so often, I'd get surprised by a wave. This one almost knocked me down today. I have had to cling to all of the Scripture I know about God's goodness and faithfulness. I have to speak the truth to myself, because self-pity lurks in the corner, ready to grab me round the neck like Gollum, trying to take back his "precious."

But I stand with Job--"The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord!" "Shall we only accept good from God and not evil?" "But I know that My Redeemer lives and one day in my flesh I shall see God."

Job's greatest grief was not for the loss of his goods, but the loss of his children. Ten of them to be exact. Yet Job still looked to his faithful Creator. He trusted, and God restored Job and transformed him in the bargain. So much greater grief than I can imagine, than I've ever known.

Today I didn't really want to swim. I called my husband who encouraged me. I freely admitted that I was out of sorts and needed to "go soak my head." He encouraged, and when it was done I found that it helped. It took much longer than usual. I wasn't gliding with glee like a fish. Each arm and leg felt like lead weights, but I pressed on.

What really helps is knowing that no matter how I feel, because of Y'shua, I belong to God and He is mine. He won't give up on me if I'm having a bad, sad day. He's the Man of Sorrows who is acquainted with grief. He bore all my griefs and has carried my sins and sorrows. He has been faithful at every turn, even when I've been faithless. He continues to amaze me, and give me songs in the night. And sometimes when the night dares to invade the daytime, He provides new songs in the daytime, too. But the song I most want to sing is the one when all of us are together singing the praises of the Lamb who was slain before the foundations of the world. I don't think it will be long now...

Sun Shine on the water

I've decided that I will try to write every time that I swim (that is, as long as I have access to my computer). I'm a recovering perfectionist so I don't want to box myself into too tight a corner. I do want to be writing more, and today has been a good day for writing, and doing things that just needed to get done (the dust bunnies were threatening to take over the world, just like Pinky and the Brain, and almost succeeding!). Today was a busy day, but I was able (and grateful) to get into the pool for the morning swim. The sun was shining beautifully through the windows (the Sava Pool re-d0 has a really wonderful design), so as I was swimming, the sunlight was shimmering on the water, warming it, refracting the light in beautiful patterns in the ripples and making it extra pleasant, almost an artistic experience to be there. The pool was crowded for the morning swim, I suppose because it is so much easier to get into a bathing suit and into the water when it is sunny and beautiful than when it is foggy and cold (the usual here in San Francisco).

I am amazed at some of the older women I swim with. I am one of the "kids" in comparison--many of them are in their 70's and 80's, but here they come, a few of them as many as five days a week to swim. They are beautiful and totally without a hint of self consciousness regarding their bodies.

"My arthritis doesn't hurt so much when I move," says one. "I like the way I feel when I am done with my swim--it fills me with energy," says another. The voices are full of cheer as they enter the locker room and call out their greetings, and as the answers come back. "Good morning, ladies!" "Hey, sweetie, great to see you here today!" There is a wonderful energy of community, and shared anticipation that fills the locker room. No one cares what anyone looks like and that is tremendously liberating. They do notice new bathing suits, and make the appropriate comments of admiration, but there's a remarkable lack of cattiness that I find utterly refreshing. The first time I came to the pool, I was amazed at how "at ease" they all seemed to be in their bodies. No matter what their shape or size, whether tall and slender or sort and squat, they are beautiful women and I have come to admire them so much. They are helping me "get over" myself, and I am grateful. When I think of not going to the pool, I think of these women who are so eager to swim, and tell myself, "you have no excuse, girlfriend!"

How beautiful they all look, with their bathing caps on, their cute little swim shoes, and glowing smiles on their faces. One lady who must be in her late 60's had on a pretty wrap for her hair, a la Betty Grable. She looks like an old school movie star, in her leopard print bathing suit. She elegantly makes her way to the side of the pool, grabs a kick board, and launches into the water. There are some older gentlemen as well who swim, too. Some of them work hard to energetically swim as many laps as they can. Others make no bones about the fact that their real reason to be at the pool is to socialize with their friends (and possibly girl-watch?).

There is one man who is a very serious swimmer, who reminds me of my friend Stephen--at least what I imagine Stephen might look like in 20 years or so. He's very fit, and muscular, and is an incredible athlete, even though he's got to be at least 70 if he's a day. You'd never know how old he was if you could watch him swim (and if you didn't see the grooved laugh lines on his face). He's a dynamo! This gentleman has the same facial shape as my friend and when he smiles, he exudes kindness that seems heartfelt and genuine. When I see him, the strong resemblance makes me sad, momentarily, but I push away the feeling. This gentleman has seen me swimming for months now, and has been kind enough to try to encourage me, inquiring as to how many laps I'm doing. He loves swimming and loves to encourage those who are just starting out.

There's a common grace all of us are sharing, the kind of benevolence that God pours out where "His mercies are over all His works." It's a gorgeous day, and unseasonably warm and beautiful. What a gift! I'm especially recognizing this today and praying for blessing on these dear folks.

A Perfectly Beautiful Saturday

After an incredibly grueling week, we were given a perfectly beautiful Saturday as a gift from heaven. Since I was up early, I headed to the pool, while my husband got some well deserved rest. Swimming always seems to help me feel better physically, and while I've set myself a six month goal of 50 miles in the pool, I'm not trying to be insane about this. But up I was and so I went swimming.

It's hilarious to me to see some of these young guys at the pool, who are in the medium lane when they should be in the fast lane. They thrash and flail and try to look as impressive as they can while they are swimming but some of them aren't much on endurance. I'm not built for speed, but I am growing in strength. One of these fellows looked at me in amazement when I kept going easily after he stopped. Who knew I'd ever be able to do anything like this?

It was a gorgeous sunny day, and very warm here in San Francisco, and after our breakfast, we took our walk by the water. Practically everyone had the same idea--it's warm, let's hit the beach! In addition there was a community beach cleanup event and the ROTC kids from Balboa high school were marching together with their advisers. In short, people were everywhere! Thankfully, Steve's parking karma kicked in so we easily found a spot, and it wasn't long before we were sitting at the top, at the Land's end overlook, with a gorgeous view of the Golden Gate bridge. We talked and people watched and then Steve surprised me.

We drove towards Half Moon Bay, and Steve borrowed a great idea from our friend Bill--we went to the Fitzgerald Marine Preserve to see the tide pools. We hadn't been there since our kids were young and it sounded perfect to me. Beautiful weather, clear skies and warm, too. We didn't time it properly so the tide pools were covered with water, but in the water, playing around were a bunch of seals. They were having a great time, and we were enjoying their antics a great deal, when our friends found their way to the marine preserve and we got to hang out with them a little while.

Our stomach clocks had gone off, so we decided to continue our drive, but got as far as Princeton by the Sea, and saw that the road to Half Moon Bay was clogged with traffic. Not our idea of a good time. So.... we turned into Princeton by the sea and we found that the fishing boats were in. We did a little exploring and ended up seeing some beautiful, fresh Dover Sole. Someone asked the guys on the boat if they had been up since early in the morning. "We've been up for three days!," one of them said, flashing a big grin.

Oh those fish were beautiful. So beautiful that we were suddenly thinking of dinner. We picked out a beautiful Dover Sole and the guys bagged it up for us with ice. Then we walked it over to this place where they will clean your fish and fillet it for you for a mere $3.00. That's definitely a bargain as far as I am concerned. Cleaning fish is a really messy business, and would put you off actually eating fish unless you had a strong constitution. So with our prize fillets in hand, we made our way home. We both were glad that this particular fish didn't "just keep swimming."
It was the best fish I've had in a very long time, and certainly the freshest. This might turn my husband into a fish lover!