Sparking Joy

For starters, let me just say I did very little on my winter break, and let me clarify that the only reason I had a winter "break" was because our daughter, Laurel, was home for a month from Emporia State University. Hence, my lone reference to an academic calendar.

With my job as co-owner of our lawn service, I am still on winter break, although with my job as bookkeeper, I guess I need to start gathering stuff for the tax preparer. Ugh. But I digress.

So after the hoopla of the holidays, Dave and I were doing nothing (and by that I mean playing Words with Friends, although he is recovering from knee replacement surgery and going to physical therapy so there is his excuse) and Laurel, holed up in her room with Netflix discovered "Tidying up with Marie Kondo."

After she tidied her room, she suggested we tackle the kitchen. I was only too happy to jump on her bandwagon.

Over the next couple of days we removed everything from the kitchen cabinets. We kept only the coffee mugs that sparked joy in us. ("Mom, there are only two people living here now. How many do you think you really need?") Apparently I DON'T need two dozen!

We got out a tote for Caleb's things that he had left behind. When he was in ceramics class in high school he made nearly 100 coffee mugs (seriously, I am not exaggerating. He numbered each one on the bottom). We had about a half dozen still in our cabinet, but we weren't using them as daily drinkers. I kept the one he specifically made for me and packed up the rest for him.

She went through my china cabinet, which had become sort of a dumping ground for extra glassware and serving pieces. I transferred some things to my a old kitchen cabinets in our garage.

We got rid of miscellaneous water bottles and coozies. We tackled the junk drawer. We designated a new drawer just for Dave's household tools.

When we remodeled our kitchen in 2016 Dave installed pull-outs in nearly all of the cabinets, which I love. However, when we were going through the pantry, Laurel suggested moving the canned goods to a lower shelf, since the one they were on was too high to see easily. Great idea! Why didn't I think of that?

Laurel said she wished she had gotten on her organizing kick earlier, we could have done the whole house. I do too!

Rise up and pray

The gift that brought me to tears this Christmas was from Harrison, my Coast Guard kid, and his new wife, Olivia. All the way from Astoria, Oregon, they sent this little wooden prayer box.

In the box are blank cards with "Today's Prayer" as the heading, but there are also two very special cards. Harrison and Olivia each filled a card with thoughts of gratitude for me and our family, wonderful words that I will re-read and cherish.

Olivia said she noticed the boxes at TJMaxx where she works and thought they would be perfect for me and my mom. With the addition of their handwritten prayers, I would agree.

As I was looking at the box, I wondered at the Bible reference, Luke 22:46. I know several times the gospels mention Jesus got up before dawn to pray, passages that have challenged me, as Jesus must have been exhausted from traveling, preaching, and healing, yet there he was, up early and talking with his Father, getting renewed strength for the day. 

So I looked up Luke 22:46, idly expecting one of those passages. To my surprise, I was plunged into the garden of Gethsemane, with Jesus frantically shaking his disciples awake, urging them to get up and cry to God for strength to resist temptation, because his attackers had arrived.

The disciples, still groggy from sleep, were about to be tested like never before. I don't know if they were breathing desperate petitions as the soldiers surrounded them, but we do know that Peter cut off the ear of one of them. Later, three times Peter denied even knowing Jesus, actions that he later deeply regretted and for which he asked Jesus' forgiveness.

So I looked at my prayer box, gracefully encouraging me to "Rise up and Pray." What if, instead of merely thinking of Quiet Times as a pleasant morning ritual, I would see it as a chance to receive strength for imminent attacks? Because it is.

Grateful Heart

I am thankful for my Mom. Yesterday for Thanksgiving she showed up at my house with two pumpkin pies and a carrot cake. She helped set out all the food on the island. She made the gravy.

When the meal was finished, she washed the dishes and Kathy dried (thanks, Kathy!) 

She talked with her grandkids and soon-to-be granddaughter June, plus my in-laws and June's parents too.

This was my mom's first Thanksgiving without my dad. He passed away April 6, 2018. They had been married 56 years.

During my birthday Mother-daughter getaway trip this past September we made signs. Mom's has become her motto for this new season of widowhood: "Begin each day with a grateful heart." She hung it in her living room where she is sure to see it every morning.

She is choosing to be grateful for the life they had, and be gratetful for all she still has.

Dad used to always drive, because he liked to and she didn't, but she drove by herself from Hillsboro to the big city of Wichita. She has decided she likes coming straight down Broadway from Newton instead of getting on the speeding interstate, and that's fine.

I am so proud of how well she is navigating this unfamiliar road. This year I lost my dad, but I am so grateful I still have her.

They can't both be right!

While working in our lawn care business, I wear a radio headset, mainly to block out the noise of the mowers and blowers, but also to listen to music and news to help pass the time.
Not all stations come in clearly, so I am somewhat limited. I also never figured out how to pre-set stations, so I spend a lot of my day switching between 90.7 WAY-FM, a Christian station, and close on the dial 89.1, KMUW, the National Public Radio affiliate.
What I like the most on NPR are the in-depth interviews with authors. I also appreciate how they attempt to look at issues from many sides and include a number of different voices.
After a lawn is finished I will get in the truck cab with the stereo on KNSS Newstalk 1240 (my husband sets the station) and catch what Rush Limbaugh or Sean Hannity is saying that day.
Sometimes my head is spinning from left to right.
I just unlearned what I thought I learned. Or, I am trying to debunk what those guys are saying by remembering the facts.
"They can't both be right!" I think in frustration as they proclaim polar opposite positions.
Then one day the thought hit me:  They could both be wrong.
Just because they have differing views on issues doesn't mean that either one is right. Truth might be somewhere in the middle. Or somewhere over the rainbow.
Jesus said, "I am the way, the truth, and the life." Never has that little word in the middle meant more to me than now.
Jesus is truth. We will all do better if we pay more attention to his teachings and try to follow them than the shifting sands of today's media.
I voted today, which I feel is an important civic duty, but I don't have a lot of faith in the party I chose. Because it could be wrong, just like the other.
I am putting my faith in things above.

My days are numbered

I woke up thinking about "numbered days" so in my quiet time I am on the porch listening to the thunder and occasional bursts of rain and looking up the psalm.

"Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom." Psalm 90:12.

Today I am scheduled for a mammogram. That always makes me pause and contemplate the "what ifs." My family history includes breast cancer, so having my numbered days cut shorter by it seems more a possibility to me than it might to others.

My dad died this past April from colon cancer. I have been thinking about how he used his 78 years, especially after this past weekend's family gathering, which was the first time seeing all of his siblings since the funeral.

After being forced to retire due to health reasons, my dad found new purpose for his life in people. He numbered his days that included doctor's visits, chemo treatments and hospital stays by learning the names of all of the receptionists, nurses, technicians, and doctors who attended him, and then remembering them the next week.

I am counting the days to my 50th birthday on September 10  which is approaching at an alarming rate.

As a way to make the day count, I am inviting friends to join me in the Race for Freedom on Sept 8, a 5K (3.1 mile) race or walk put on by ICT SOS. Proceeds will go to organizations that are fighting human trafficking right here in Wichita.

The race starts in Indian Hills close to my house, and part of the course is on the river path that I run regularly.

In April my book club read "Girls Burn Brighter" which addressed human trafficking. After reading this heart-wrenching story about two girls caught in its web, I and others were motivated to do something. But what?

Using my birthday to encourage others to join me in this race is my small first step. Because my days are numbered and I want them to count.

To join my team, go to race4freedom.com and join Karen50. Thanks!

Jesus surrounds ESU

My daughter Laurel graduated from high school, as Grad Images so kindly reminded me via the USPS recently with this opportunity to purchase these pictures in her cap and gown (as if I hadn't already filled all of the memory in my phone with pics of her at various graduation events).

I am excited about Laurel going to college this fall, especially since her brothers chose the U.S. Air Force and Coast Guard. This will be my first time paging through the summer Bed Bath & Beyond circular and actually needing to purchase a cute shower caddy, XL twin sheets, and a turquoise trash can!

I have been concerned, though. I went to Tabor, a Christian college (which my husband, Dave, who also attended, often compares to a church camp, and in some aspects, he is right). She is going to Emporia State University, a secular school.

I want her to grow in her Christian walk, and I want her to be in the center of God's will.

At the last ESU campus visit day different clubs set up booths. I made sure we visited the Baptist Student Union booth. I met the director and was pleased he knew David Mitchell, our pastor. Since then I have learned that several of Emporia's BSU students are serving overseas on mission trips this summer, another plus in my book.

On our first visit our sophomore tour guide pointed out a house by campus that another Christian group uses every Friday to serve spaghetti lunches. She said she never missed, and it seemed to be a popular event.

So I was feeling a little better about sending my girl to live among the wolves (actually, hornets. "Stingers Up!").

Then one day a postcard from the university caught my eye. In big letters it said "ESU." E-S-U. Why did that sound so familiar?

It hit me. Put a "J" at thr beginning, add an "S" at the end. J-E-S-U-S. Jesus surrounds ESU.

Yes, God is everywhere. There is no place that we can run from his presence. Still, I made this sign to remind me that when my girl is away at ESU, Jesus will be all around her.

River Fest Posters

Dave and I have gone to the Wichita River Festival since before we were married. I  love looking at the past festival posters lined up along Century II.

1988 was our first. It had a colorful bird-like design for the poster with a white background (I will have to check if they have earlier ones further around the building). I blew off studying for mynfinals at Tabor College and we spent the entire day sunning on the riverbank watching the bathtub races.

1991 was fun because I was married and working as a student in WSU'S University Relations department, and we were in charge of an event called Talentfest.

1993 was memorable because it had record-setting rainfall during the festival, and ironically, the theme was "Splish, splash, a springtime bath," or something like that and the poster featured puddles. Dave's grandpa was sick in the hospital during that time, but we were able to attend our favorite events, and the festival had wrapped up before he died on May 22 (that's when it was earlier).

In 1996 Dave, baby Caleb and I had a picnic on a hill in A. Price Woodard Park for my very first Mother's Day.

In 2005 we entered a float with our friends at the Twin River Club. The poster featured a mermaid, and Marcia Hatfield happened to have a mermaid costume that her daughter Emily had outgrown, so she offered it to Laurel. Why yes, she would love to be a mermaid in the Sundown Parade!