"Last Voices From Heaven"

Ma isn't the only one who's gotten a CD in the mail this week. I actually paid money for this CD, which I had to order from Amazon UK since it isn't carried on Amazon USA.

I thought I was going to be getting some interesting, reasonably authentic native music from Melanesia. But what it turned out to be is a little bit of authentic music with a lot of western beat and electric guitar polish slapped all over it. It still is interesting music, but for all the missionary-bashing and glorifying of the pagan way of life in the album booklet, I was expecting something less commercialized.

Here's a link where you can listen to a few snatches of the songs on this album. Apparently there was a film documentary made about the process of collecting this music, shown at least in Australia.

A Memorial Service

This morning I left work early to attend a memorial service at church. I didn't know the deceased, but I do know her daughter and her daughter's family, so I attended to lend support to them. Her death was from Alzheimer's. I don't know that much about the disease, but I do know that it is a hard way to die, if not for the person, then at least for the family.

It was pretty heart-wrenching to hear stories of her slow demise from a vibrant school librarian to a thin and frail shell who finally stopped breathing. It was sad to hear the regret that some family members expressed at not "being there" for her enough in her last years.

May God give them all grace as they grieve and move on.

Liastris sp.

We've had a long, hot, and very dry summer, but at the state park I still found a couple wild flowers ignoring the hostile environment and blooming beautifully anyway. (Maybe this species likes it hot and dry, but even the cacti seemed to be shriveling up from lack of water.) According to my wildflower books and the internet, this is a species of Liastris, with a common name of Gay Feather.

One of these days I'm going to make an album of my best wildflower photos.

Moon Shadows

 
Last night we slept in our tent at the nearby state park. When we got situated in our sleeping bag I looked up and noticed the full moon trying to shine on me. So I got up and removed the tent's rain roof, and then I was bathed in moonbeams all night long.

Maybe I'm a lunatic.

(For some daylight photos, you can check my other blog.)

My Son Now Has a Blog

He has finally joined the 21st century.

But is this how I should find out that he's wearing a heart monitor and thinks his middle name is a girl's??

(Ma Hoyt might have something to say about both of these items: she knows all about bad hearts and men named "Loren.")

Happy News!

Rachel got a call from a family friend today with news of her engagment and upcoming marriage in January. Congratulations to Jessica and John!

We also got sad news, the death of a friend's mother this morning.

And more news of pregnancies and births.

Life goes on.

A Cotton Slip

Every old lady missionary needs a sturdy cotton slip to take to the field. In the steaming jungles of South America it is way too hot and humid for a nylon slip under those long frumpy skirts. But do you think an old lady missionary could possibly find a cotton slip in the entire Dallas-Ft.Worth metroplex? No. So I made her one. No, I made her two--one with free cotton fabric from the missionary barrel and the other with eyelet that I bought at Walmart for a few dollars.

My friend is off to Guyana to see about taking the place of these folks.

The White Dove

I know it is just a bird, and I don't believe in omens, but almost every day when I walk to work I look up into a small tree on campus and there is a white dove. Sometimes I see her on top of one of the buildings, but usually she is in this tree For some reason it seems like she is watching over my place of work, which of course, can't be true, but she gives me the feeling of being watched over.

We can all use the Lord watching over us and protecting us. Tonight we got news of two singles from church in a 5-car accident on I-20. Three of the five cars were totaled, yet everyone walked away from the accident.

Intentional Dating

We had lunch recently with some friends who told us their son was dating someone. Since I know this fine young man personally, I pumped them for details. :-) I mean, isn't that what parents do when they get together--talk about their kids??

It was nice--indeed, inspiring--to hear the story of how their son was approaching this relationship. He had taken the time (and money and effort) to visit the girl's parents to ask them if it was OK with them if he pursued their daughter. How nice to learn that this sort of thing doesn't just happen in books and fairy tales--a real life case where the young man is intentionally seeking marriage, and in such a respectful way.

I hope the next guy who is interested in our daughter is like that.

(And I'd be proud of our son if did this when he finds a girl he is interested in.)

The World is Flat

Gary talks about this book all the time, and now I have evidence that it is true: you just never know who is going to find your blog and make a comment. I now know there are people on the internet who actually know what my screen name means. Amazing how the world has changed!

Thanking God for Growth

For those of you who know me IRL and care about me as a real person, you know that all too often over my life I have worried about Rachel. Always worried about this or that or the other thing. Or maybe I should say, "this and that and the other thing all at once." And sometimes I've let that angst show in this blog.

So I feel like I should now say that I am really pleased with the changes and progress I've seen in her life since March: She's re-learned how to drive and is doing better at that than I would have imagined possible. (Which isn't to say I expect her to ever become one of the world's top 10 drivers. :-) She's purchased her own car and her own car insurance. She has looked for and found numerous families to babysit for. She has completed substitute teacher orientation for two public and two Christian schools, and is regularly finding sub jobs. She teaches children's church once a month and works in the church nursery once a month. She has started a system for keeping track of both her income and her expenses. She does her own meal preparation, cleaning and shopping (though sometimes she tricks me into helping :-). She has learned how to cook a couple real meals. She has taken on full financial responsibility for herself (and her cat :-), although the amount we charge her for our garage apartment is not quite up to market value. In other words, she has done a lot of social and emotional growing in the past six months and I want to acknowledge that.

I suppose these things might not sound like such a big deal to any random person reading this blog, but if you knew the history, you'd know why I'm making a point to mention how self-sufficient she has become. I've spent a lot of my life worrying about things Rachel could not do, or could not do as easily, quickly, or gracefully as her peer group. So now I just want to give her credit for getting on with her life.

And I also want to give thanks to God, who has worked in my heart to let go of Rachel in a slow but steady way, and who has helped Rachel to grow in a slow but steady way. (Without doubt we both have many remaining "issues" that can always use prayer; but in this post, I'm not talking about them.)

Empathy

How does it make you feel when you turn your sandals over and discover a thumbtack stuck in the sole?

A Note of Thanks

Sometimes I drag myself down in a pool of self-pity when I feel unappreciated or ignored or looked down upon. I know, I'm stupid and shouldn't do that. So I try to just put my hurt aside and go on with life.

But today, it was the opposite. I got a thank you note from a young man thanking me for sticking my neck out for him two years ago.

Matthew 13:45-46

You are the pearl:
precious,
priceless,
worth more than all other things

Put together:
your irritating dirt,
My soothing nacre,
surely it will happen

With time:
the beauty,
the value,
is of great price.

I gave up everything to get you.

Time for Another Flower Post

It has been a while since I've posted any flower photos. You've got to admire these Longneck Ruel wildflowers. They have not only simply survived the hot summer drought, they are actually flourishing in our neighborhood at the moment.

My best friend brought over some roses for our party last Sunday. They opened up nicely during the middle of the week, but by yesterday they were starting to droop. I found a way to lengthen their lives and give us the opportunity to enjoy them a few more days. The glass bowl was a wedding gift from Dr. and Mrs. Ken Pike which I hardly ever use, but it works well for this.


Speaking of roses, Rachel's Valentine Cupido miniature rose bush seems to have appreciated the rain we got a couple weeks ago because now it is blooming again.

Deal Breaker

Last night it was quite amusing to listen to Rachel and Laura discuss what would be a "deal-breaker" for any guys who were interested in Rachel. Rachel seemed to have specific ideas about age and height and weight, and Laura agreed with her "except if he annually makes more than 40 times his monthly mortgage payment," then maybe she wouldn't need to be quite so picky! We all got a laugh out of that.

They both agreed he should be a Christian and have a job and want to have kids (preferably biological, but adopted would be OK too).

Laura pointed out that there were a couple things that could have been deal-breakers for Andrew, except that these were things that were easily changeable. And we all noticed that Andrew no longer wears white socks. :-)

Pick Me! Pick Me!

Remember those days in elementary school when they were chosing up teams during PE class? The strong were chosen to be captains, and their job was to choose teams. Those kids with no pride would yell, "pick me, pick me!" in hopes of not being left with the rest of the losers who couldn't play, taken in the last round. Such a cruel procedure.


Sometimes fruit hanging from a tree seems to call out, "pick me, pick me!" too. There is a right time for picking. If one picks the fruit too soon, it is hard, sour, and underdeveloped. If one picks the fruit too late, it is mushy, rotten, and overripe.

If you haven't yet been picked, maybe it is more because you aren't quite ripe yet, rather than you're a loser who can't play.

More On This Topic

The topic of living with adult children came up again tonight. Should an adult child be allowed to ignore the parents' rules--nay, even the parents' wishes--while enjoying mommy's home cookin' and daddy's roof over his head?

I don't think so.

If an adult child can't live by the house rules, then it is time for him or her to find his or her own house.

Failure To Launch

Gary is out of town this week, so Rachel and I decided to watch a chick flick tonight. We saw Failure To Launch. It was kind of stupid, but kind of funny too, and even thought provoking in some ways--especially in view of some of my recent posts.

The movie is about adult men who still live with their parents, and like I said, some of it was pretty funny. The DVD also included some extra stuff, including a not-funny blurb about how the average age of becoming an adult (as defined by becoming independent and moving out of the nest) has gotten older in recent years. It showed real-life men who still live with their parents and real-life parents who make it too easy for their boys to stay. Interesting.

Growing Old

Yeah, I know there will be some readers who will say that I'm too young to be writing about growing old. But I've been thinking a lot recently about growing old, quite possibly brought on by my recent trip with my mom to her place at a retirement mobile home park in south Texas. (Maybe recently re-reading Ecclesiasties has put me in that frame of mind also.)

I still have a mom, so I can't be that old--I'm still the kid, right? But I'm beginning to notice that my mom is getting old. She seems to have gotten a lot older than just a year ago when we all went to Andrew's wedding. In fact, the reason I went on this trip was to help her because she, in her old age, had fallen and hurt herself too much to drive. Mom is slowing down, forgetting things, and her arms are covered with bruises due to taking coumadin.

Then when I walked around her mobile home park I met more people who were dying of cancer, recently widowed, or could only walk by taking the golf cart.

But I think the thing that is making me feel old the most, is my own children. Here we go back to the point of this blog: my nest is empty and I'm still struggling with how to deal with that.

Sometimes I think of friends I went to high school with who were grandparents by age 40. But then Gary reminds me that people who go to college usually marry later and have kids later and have fewer of them. I left the culture of those who marry young and joined a culture of people who go to college. So, if I'm logical about it, it is to be expected that my nest is empty of both kids and grandkids.

Sometimes I wish that my kids were married and had kids too--after all, don't they know that's what life is all about? No, maybe they don't. I guess they don't have to feel that way just because I do. Indeed, many people in their generation are not getting married and are not having kids. Some of them want to, many of them don't. Some are just waiting until "later." By the time they are my age, they won't be looking for grandkids, they will still be helping with homework and driving kids to little league practice. Or maybe not. They may just forego the having kids part altogether and just get rich instead.

Then there are the undeniable physical issues that prove that I'm getting old, menopause being the biggest. No woman would complain about not having periods, but the cessation of menses also brings with it lots of other changes that aren't so easy to deal with, like a foggy brain and other things I can't mention because this is a G-rated blog. Yes, things like that are making me feel old.

The last thing that makes me realize I'm getting old is that I keep forgetting to turn the stove off.