The Girl from Positano

Tags

dreaming, Italy, Lancaster County, travel

There is a girl who lives way up on the hill in the little sea-side town of Positano, Italy, who dreams great dreams of traveling. There are so many places she wants to see and experience- South America, Africa, India, the list could go on and on. But if you were to climb all the way up to the top of the list of all the places she wants to see, there in first place, you would see “The United States of America.” Not Australia or its outback, not the crystal clear waters of the Caribbean, not the sweeping, ancient views of China’s great wall, but the United States of America.
How could she ever choose her sight-seeing priorities in the USA? There are the city-scapes of New York City and Chicago she wants to see; she wants to feel small next to the Rockies, hike in the Smokies, feel the Californian sunshine, and have her breath taken away by the Grand Canyon. Maybe she’ll enjoy a hot dog and a beer at Fenway Park, maybe go to a Bon Jovi concert. She wants to soak up the beauty of autumn in New England and kayak in Glacier National Park. There’s Philadelphia and Miami, and Disney World, and San Antonio and Portland. She wants to see it all, but there is a place she’s determined to see most of all.
She leans against the railing on her sun drenched balcony, fixes her gaze on the horizon and then closes her eyes and pictures her dream destination.

Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. She can almost feel the warm, country air beckoning her, inviting her to dig her toes into the rich soil. She’d roll down the windows of her rental car and let the pungent breezes blow through her hair as she leisurely makes her away back and forth across the county. Maybe she’ll stop at a farm stand and get some home-grown produce. Maybe a whoopie pie. Or a homemade root beer. “It’ll be bliss,” she thinks to herself, “pure bliss.” She’ll marvel at the amazing color green of the young tobacco fields she’s passing by, a color she’s never quite seen before. And the corn, everywhere she looks, there’ll be acres of it, all in straight lines and reaching ever more rapidly towards the sun. She breathes deeply, the smell here, something she’s never quite experienced either, but she knows it must just be what country air smells like, and she’s determined to like it. And at night as she falls asleep the rhythmic clip-clop of the Amish buggies rolling by will be the sweetest lullaby she’s ever heard.
“Maria.” She is awakened suddenly from her reverie there on the balcony by the touch of her sister’s hand on her elbow. “Maria, it’s time to go, we’re already late.” She sighs, pulls her scarf around her shoulders against the evening chill, and follows her sister. Lancaster County has been there for many years, most likely it will continue to exist for a while longer. She can wait.

Fridays with Her

    Each Friday I drive east on Route 30 to my church.  I walk in- all rage and righteousness, and sit down across the table from her. She opens her Bible and places me in front of the mirror. She listens, she speaks, she prays in her heart. The Word, the Holy Spirit, and her- they wipe the sooted, cloudy reflection, exposing the filthy rags, the worship of self, creature over Creator. Every Friday, another layer removed, a new truth exposed.
     My mind tries to keep up with all the truth my heart is learning. I’m writing here to just try to capture these truths, to put them in sentences, and in order, so I can come back and be reminded of them. Because how easy it is to forget. “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?” Jeremiah 17:20  And can I say, forgetful? There are so many things I’ve had to learn over and over. And will again.
     Here’s one truth I learned on my first Friday with her.
1} There is nothing that anyone else can do to me, nothing anyone else can cause me to suffer, that defiles me, defines me, or limits me. She tells me that the reason sins against us are so difficult to work through are because we pile our own sin on top of it. Jesus said, “Hear and understand: it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but what comes out of the mouth; this defiles a person.” Matthew 16:10-11 When someone lies about  me and slanders me, that does not defile me or diminish me. But my reaction, that is my test, it will reveal who I am. Trials in this life are revealers, authenticators of the reality in our hearts.
     This has been such an eye-opening truth to me. This is where the blame game ends. You know, “Well, if you would know what he/she did, you would understand where I’m coming from.” If you hunt down the he/she perpetrator, you would hear the same line, “Well guess what he/she did to me!” It also frees me from a cycle of sin and of having a wrong belief about what healing is. Often I’ve blamed my sins, my wrong choices on what I’ve suffered at the hands of others. When I was reminded of my sin, I would give myself a pass, subconsciously claiming that, “Well, God just doesn’t heal my wounds, so this is just my natural reaction. What more can you expect with what I’ve been through?” But healing doesn’t mean God comes swooping into your history and re-writes your story; healing comes when He reveals what it means to love Him and love others no matter what. The bondage is believing that the only reaction to sin, is more sin. That’s the bondage. What someone else does or says can not chain me down or keep me from living an abundant life.
   I’ve discovered so much hypocrisy in my life in this area. I’ve despised the victim mentality in much of society today. The gimme gimme gimme attitude. Kids growing up in the ghetto have a choice. Choose not to drugs, choose to go to school, choose to stay out of gangs. Pull yourself up by your bootstraps and change your life. I’ve had a similar attitude towards people who struggle with depression. Just choose to be happy. Choose to stop dwelling on the negativity.
  But my inner life is riddled with inconsistencies. Spiritually, I’ve been living on welfare and foodstamps. Oh God, I’d pray, give me give me give me. But each day I’d make wrong choices. I’d choose to not forgive. I’d choose some silly idol to fill my emptiness instead of turning to Him. I chose to ignore my sin while waiting on Him to give me whatever it was I was demanding at the moment.
   Taking personal responsibility for my own choices is bringing more healing than 20 years of waiting for a magical wand ever has.
  “Instead of your shame there shall be a double portion; instead of dishonor they shall rejoice in their lot; therefore in their land they shall possess a double portion; they shall have everlasting joy.” Isaiah 61:7

Blessings Flow

It was a Merry Christmas and an exceedingly Happy New Year!
Unfortunately, I forgot to take my camera on our family’s New Year’s weekend getaway; therefore I am unable to prove the good times I claim we had. If I find the opportunity, I will steal some from some unsuspecting relative.
After getting home Monday afternoon, it was back to work on Tuesday. And today, today I have been cleaning and de-cluttering like a mad woman. My goal is to finish the de-cluttering and spring cleaning process by April 1st. Maybe by March 1st. But definitely by April 1st. Heaven knows this place isn’t that big, I could do it in a week if I really wanted. But let’s be realistic.
Freeing our house from clutter is a bug that has bitten me slowly….only recently have I started to get really serious. I have already taken a few boxes over to my Mom’s basement with plans for a big spring yard sale. Today I added more to a yard sale box and took lots more to the dumpster. Just getting rid of simple things like half a year’s worth of my husbands Cabelas magazines feels good. Not to mention small fabric scraps not worth saving, Christmas wrapping odds and ends, old, paid bills, wedding gifts I never/almost never use, antique or used store finds that are no longer practical enough to suit me, leftover WEDDING PROGRAMS, (I had a stack of about 50!!) scrapbook paper I don’t need/want, etc etc etc. Just STUFF, that takes up space in my house and in my mind and slows up productivity.
The Unclutterer is a website that’s been hugely inspirational to me. A bit extreme sometimes, but it points me in the right direction. It has really helped me figure out that hanging on to sentimental objects is only rarely worth it. Our memories are what we should hold precious; and more often than not, the objects that represent those memories, become an overwhelming and annoying cluster of things to step over, dust around, and sweep around, taking up space in our homes that could be free for real creativity.
Anyhoo….a salute to 2012! And to our God who gifts us with each new day.
Blessings,
Marylou

Bella Sobrina

Tags

bat mitzvah, blessings, family, nieces, ohio

Last weekend found my baby sister and I at my eldest sister’s house in Ohio. We were there to celebrate my niece’s bat mitzvah. Christy is 15 years old and she is a treasure. {May I just state for the record, it is unbelievably fun to have teenage nieces.} We had a great time helping her and her family prepare for the festivities. We made pumpkin lanterns, and hung lights, and pushed furniture around, tore up old sheet music, and made food. It was a jolly good time.
Friday night it was just a small, intimate gathering for family and close friends. We shared our blessings with Christy, and heaped affirmation and love upon her. It was a beautiful time, full of love and lots of fun memories shared about her life so far. She’s a feisty one. Small but mighty. As a toddler, she once took a boy thrice her size to the floor, sat on him, and firmly reprimanded him for bullying her friend. He’s still thrice her size I believe, and only a few weeks ago (allegedly) she affirmed her unwavering courage when she tossed her glass of water in his face. He was bullying her this time. Allegedly.
Besides her courage, she is well noted for her contagious enthusiasm for life. She is passionate about truth. She is a woman of influence. I have no doubt that more than a few lives will be changed by the influence of her presence on this earth. She is witty. She is hilarious. Like her older sister Cherie said, she is so unique that everyone wants to be like her, but they can’t, because there’s only one Christy.
Saturday night’s festivity was held at their church where we had created a somewhat “homey” atmosphere in their balcony. Here there were lots more people, her grandpa, friends from church, and friends from afar. Her mom and dad and two oldest siblings shared their blessings with her that night. It was touching to say the least. What a beautiful thing, to see a young woman affirmed, told that she was loved, beautiful, and accepted. She was encouraged, blessed, and honored. There’s a girl who I doubt will go looking for a boy to give her an identity. She has one, loud and clear. She’s a daughter of the King, and a valued treasure in her family. She’s a talented musician. A classical actress. A sought after singer. A photographer extraordinaire. A giggling partner in crime. A lover of coffee and a domestic diva.
What if we all did a little bit of that each day? Affirming each other, expressing someone else’s value, their beloved-ness, instead of their unloveliness. Would people’s lives change little by little? Would it change the way someone looked at themselves? No great ceremony, just a day by day appreciation of someone’s value. Ahhh…I’m inspired.
I love you Christy, more than you’ll ever know.

Project Snowflake

Tags

craft, DIY, Popsicle sticks, spray paint

I made this quick craft today- and it was both easy and satisfying. The spray paint is drying as we speak. There are many more patterns you can make….I want to try at least a few more and maybe put a collage on my wall. I followed the tutorial here