Balancing Action

This month I have lost my balance three times. When something happens three times, it is time to take notice and perhaps make changes. It feels like I am under attack by inanimate objects. I misstepped getting in the shower, climbing a high curb, and flipping a cover to the water meter that lay hidden in the garden bed. I have scrapes and bruises from falling to my knees in these accidental moments. Was God telling me to get on my knees for more serious prayer and preparation for action? 

For a month, my time has been spent moving out of a beloved house and cleaning out the remains. My thoughts have been immersed in memories of the past and a desire to hold on to all the things that remind me of the love that our ancestors had for their families. Bittersweet. I am muscle weary and mind spent at the end of each day. I have not payed much attention to the news or my relationships that are packed away in isolation like the fine china now being stored in the attic.

I would like to find balance again. Something in between lazy and workamatic would be better for the body. Something in between rote prayers at meals and full days of quiet meditation would be better for the spirit. My mind needs something in between mindless screen time and all day research and writing. Balance is a physical phenomenon controlled by the inner ear and a mental exercise that requires planning, action, and evaluation.

Solomon said rather graphically in Ecclesiastes 4:5, “The fool folds his hands, And consumes his own flesh.” There are days when I accomplish nothing, but I hope I am never so idle as to quit preparing healthy meals. In contrast the next verse warns us, “Better a handful with quietness than both hands full, together with toil and grasping for the wind.” My hands have been full of boxes and bags. I would much prefer to fill them with grandchildren’s snuggles and bear hugs from friends. I pray for wisdom and balance.

Some of my friends have lightened the restrictions of quarantine and come out to play. Others are remaining very cautious. We are all longing for balance in body, soul and spirit. It is important not to overdo it in either direction, only to find we have misplaced our priorities to love. I just learned last night that a a dear friend fell off her bike and broke her wrist. This is now the fourth friend in a year! Actually a male friend fell, but did not break anything, so that makes five. Maybe we all need three wheelers in our sixties. I do not wish to break any more bones so I must work on my balance.

It will be wonderful to finish the downsizing of our life and upsize with people. The beach walks with Suzanne will resume in a couple weeks and the Wholly Woman meetings will continue with Linda in outdoor venues. I am going to try some cooking “live” on Facebook, and hope you will join me and try the tasty tidbits I have discovered since Taste and See began.It is time to start licking the beaters and stop licking my wounds. I will give 24 hour notice, but noon is my favorite time in the kitchen. Join me for virtual lunch and we will work on balancing our nourishment.

Temperamental

This past week I have barked at my hubby three times. He pushed my bark button and I automatically yipped. The real me does not look for drama, or things to complain about. The real me is not sassy or sarcastic, and certainly not antagonistic. The fatigued and famished me does not appreciate hovering, questioning, or eye rolling. Husbands beware. Moving out of a house, quarantine, and unpleasant weather is a triple threat that may turn a wifey into something that sounds like a yapping Chihuahua if you question her, or a barking Boxer if you try to take over what she is doing, or a Doberman ready to shred your pants if you look at her the wrong way. 

My hubby responded well by leaving the room quickly and making a salad for my dinner. 

I felt immediate remorse for my outburst and I apologized- sort of. Next came my self analysis to understand why I am feeling so temperamental. Stress from time crunch, physical activity, overwhelming tasks, and loneliness are all factors that will affect my normal mood.Then, when I verbalize my feelings of frustration, I conjure up a whole hodgepodge of things that I think are off kilter. Sometimes I don’t even recognize myself when I do talk therapy. Instead of Spirit filled and peaceful, I become frenetic and self-centered.

I hope hubby continues to listen and laugh with me through stressful times. I hope that I will learn to look past the annoying behaviors and praise him more. We know more difficult times are coming that will require extreme love, and radical self sacrifice. Health, retirement, aging, memory loss and discontent can lead to disappointments and struggles that are hard to bear alone. It is imperative to stay strong in faith and commitment.

When a relationship is one sided in which one person works hard to please another, and the other person is never satisfied and constantly gives negative input- it is certainly heading into crisis. I do not know how the situation can turn around unless both recognize the importance of divine love and trusting God to guide them to a place of mutual contentment. 

A daily devotional led me to the verse: “Bearing with one another, and forgiving each other, if any man has a complaint against any; even as Christ forgave you, so you also do.” Colossians 3:13

Complaints are passé. Forgive, assist, and love fully to be totally with it. Take a breath and explain calmly that you may lose your mind if you hear one more time, “Are you sure you want to do that?” Seriously, leave the growling to the the guard dog, and give grace to people.

Hubby and I have more meals together lately. I enjoy this because we have a beautiful view of the lake and are reminded of our blessings. When we cook and eat together it is an act of love that sustains us. I hope he will always take care of me.The loving acts we do for each other overshadow the many thoughtless things we say or do. 

We both have a bark that is worse than our bite. That is not an excuse for being scary with our tone of voice. It is a warning to stay the course during stressful times and keep the focus on the joy that is ours from a loving God. If you find yourself resembling an unkind canine, take a time out to rest, reflect and renew. The real you just needs the real love of a patient Master.

The Grammy Award Goes to Mom

It is time for a tribute to mothers! God bless all the moms who are home schooling their children, who are nurses, doctors, and medical support saving lives, who are military, and police protecting our country, who are politicians making policy for our well being in a time of crisis, pastors who are consoling families and all the other superhero moms with unsung stories. We are grateful for women who nurture their families and manage careers.

My mom was a superhero in my eyes. She taught my brothers and me leadership skills through her volunteer work with schools, scouts, and church. She taught us social skills by throwing parties and playing games. She taught us about Jesus and read stories from the Bible and classic literature. She was a woman of great faith, strong minded and  and seemingly unafraid.

Mom never gave up on us when we goofed up – which was often to be sure. She was hoping we would all have children as complicated as my brothers and I so that she could laugh at how the tables turn. Instead, her grandchildren are all amazing so she constantly gushed over their talents and accomplishments. We felt loved and secure.

Mom let us make our own choices. She may have pushed me to go into nursing school, when science was not my forte, but I chose to become a teacher like her. Children have always been my passion – but not to stick them with a needle. In mom’s final year, she came to my classroom to read to the children and give them homemade treats. What a joy to share her with my students. Then my daughter Bethany became a teacher as well.

 

I will always remember how she stood up to the School Board to advocate for girls athletics in 1972. She impressed us all when she went back to college, while I was in grade school, and graduated with honors with a teaching degree. Mom was creative in the kitchen and generous with hugs and kisses. She was Grammy to my girls and loved having them for a whole week to herself.

Mom often let me know how proud she was of my mission and my family. I found a picture that I forgot about while sorting through photo boxes. Mom attended a State Convention of

Mother Daughter

the American Association of University Women with me. I was the State Educational Equity Chairperson and organized a day of speakers discussing “Gender Bias” in the classroom. Later in the evening, I was given the State Educational Leadership Award by the Ohio Department of Education. What a thrill to have Mom there to see me being recognized for accomplishing something important. She was there when our oldest daughter, Elise, received numerous awards her Senior year of High School. And she was at every dance recital for Hannah. Five more grandchildren graduated from High School or College after she was gone, but we could sense her presence.

She is still here in spirit. I know it when I see Bethany with a serious expression. I know it when I watch Elise make a presentation, or when Hannah is excited. My Mom lives on through them and of course my hubby reminds me that he sees her in me too.

The bond I had with my Mom was special and irreplaceable. Because of her, I care deeply, I feel intensely and I pray fervently. I am so lucky to have daughters too. We have a Mother Daughter Banquet in our family. What also pleases me is that my daughters have terrific mothers-in-law. They raised wonderful sons that love and care for our daughters and grandchildren in beautiful ways. I am so thankful. 

I will enjoy the tributes and pictures on Sunday. Give your mammas some love, and love one another.

“Up-Hill Battles”

Today guest storyteller, Hannah Hill, shares her fitness during quarantine story. I am blessed to have daughters that share their talents which far exceed mine.

“Up-Hill Battles” by Hannah Hill

My husband and I like to make puns about our last name. When you’re named “Hill” it’s easy to make jokes like, “Those Hills are beautiful,” and “The Hills aren’t as alive today, eh babe?” Laughter continues to be the cornerstone of our marriage. That’s why I laughed so hard when my husband asked me to help push a car around a parking lot for exercise. You have to be creative in a gym-less quarantine world I suppose.
We’ve had to get creative in a lot of ways during this closure mandate. Sharing the same space for hours on end, especially after a 6 month separation for deployment, takes patience. Our favorite game seems to be “Why Are You Doing It That Way: ​learn to annoy your partner with one sigh”​ . Thankfully our second favorite pastime is “I Baked This For You” which smoothes over rough spots quickly.
Back to the car.
Physical fitness is important to my spouse, and is integral to his readiness for duty. Over the years he’s lovingly guided me through gym routines and lifting form, always ready with a partnering spot or a high-five. I’m not an enthusiastic participant but he hasn’t given up on me. Car pushing is just one exercise in a long line of non-gym activities he’s pursued, but this one requires a partner. “You have to steer the car,” he coached, “… and obviously brake too.” Enticed by the idea that I could literally sit the entire time, I agreed.
We drove to an empty parking lot and lined up along a flat expanse. I turned off the car, threw the gear into neutral, and kept my foot on the brake while he got into position behind the back bumper. “Give me a double tap on the trunk when you’re ready!” I hollered out the window, catching his gaze in the rearview mirror. *TAP-TAP* and we were off! By that, I mean my husband gave a *HEAVE* and we slowly began inching along the parking lot. *TAP-TAP* and I would brake, waiting for him to reset at the front of the car. We did this a dozen times or so, back and forth across the concrete, picking up speed or changing technique to increase difficulty. The flat road was conquerable. Time for an uphill battle.
My workout partner makes everything seem easy. When we found a medium-grade incline he would push like a strongman in competition; lots of huffing and puffing but always reaching the goal. He’d flash me a smile as I slowly creeped back down the hill, letting gravity return me to the starting line for another repetition. “Want to give it a try?” he nudged me. I was very comfortable in the driver’s seat… but it was time I took on a challenge. I stepped out of the car and assumed his position at the rear bumper. *TAP-TAP* “HRUUUUNGGGHH” *TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP* This was going to be harder than I thought.
“You can do it, Babe!” I heard from the driver’s seat. “I believe in you!” Deep breath. Hands on the bumper, head down, feet braced. “HUUMMMPHHH… YEAH!!” The car crept forward, and I kept pushing. With many pauses to switch between using my hands or using my back to propel the vehicle, I made it up the hill. “Good Lord, that was tough,” I wheezed. “But do you think you could do it again?” my husband asked. “Yeah… Yeah, I can do it.”

Using a car for fitness is no joke. We’ve done this routine seven or so times now, looking for new hills to try and even adding sandbags to the trunk for weight. At least 10 times a passerby has concernedly asked whether we needed help, but they always leave smiling when we explain our regimine. We look a little strange pushing a Ford Fiesta around a country road, but it gets the job done. I’m sure there’s some clever pun for us becoming “Hill Climbers” or going “Over the Hill”. What I know for certain is that we couldn’t finish this journey without the help of one another. Someone is needed to steer, to encourage, and sometimes to give you a break. Just remember, when the task has ended, make sure you’ve packed jumper cables. We’ve killed the battery twice. Hill-arious.