Old Glory Waves On

Sunday, September 9, 2001 was a blessed and beautiful day for me. I spent it with my brother, his wife, their three grown sons, my daughter, and my grandson. My "little brother" was ordained into the ministry that morning. A truly joyous day for our family.
Funny that I have absolutely NO memory of the evening of Monday, September 10, 2001.
But, along with almost every other American, I can describe in minute detail my personal life on the morning of Tuesday, September 11, 2001.

Where were you?
      Living an ordinary life in a small, quiet, Texas hill country community away from any kind of city hustle-bustle. Our biggest excitement usually centered around a horse getting rambunctious during our annual county fair.

What were you doing?
      I was in my bedroom, dressing for work, listening to a sermon on the Christian radio station.

How did you hear?
      The radio station broke into the sermon to report that a plane had flown into the World Trade Center in New York City. I immediately switched on the television and saw the second plane go into the second tower.

Who was the first person you called?
     Without thinking, I called my daughter-in-law at Bremerton Naval Station in Washington state. Her husband, my son, was the Gunny Sergeant in charge of a small detachment of U. S. Marines guarding nuclear weapons stored on shore by the U.S. Navy and I knew my daughter-in-law was at home with their one year old daughter. She was asleep and had not heard the news. It would be several hours before she heard from her husband because he, of course, was already on high alert and lock-down.
Do you remember the rest of that day? Write me. Tell me about your day. About your fears. Describe your actions. I'll only post it with your permission. And you MAY change names.
    I have a long story about that day but the short version is that all members of our immediate families were not in harm's way on that horrendous day nine years ago and my Marine son subsequently made two deployments to Iraq--returning home safely from both.
Tomorrow, Dear Heart and I are going on a short, day-trip with a few friends from our community. Late in the afternoon, we'll travel by bus to a near-by lake, float around enjoying a dinner prepared by someone else, and return home refreshed and relaxed.

     Tomorrow, our home flag will fly at half-mast until noon, I will wear a flag scarf on our outing, and think about this brave country that is still one nation under God and I will pray for His mercy.

Later, we'll talk about our September 12ths.

Standing Firm,

          Liz

Changes Don't Stay the Same

     I've never liked change and I've always had to live with change....lots and lots of changes and I try to roll with the punches. :-) Don't you know: change can HURT. But, I admit that some can be fun.
     I am in a struggle to rearrange and renew and cut costs on my web appearance. (Don't you just love that phrase???)
     And in so doing, I am creating even more changes and confusion for myself. I am not ready to give up!
     I'm getting--supposed to already HAVE but it doesn't register yet--a new domain name for my yola site so it will be easier to type, find, and locate. http://www.lizwritesintexas.com/ Don't worry about remembering the title, I'll remind you. Believe me, you DON'T want the details; it is a cyberspace jungle. Especially for us older models.
    I do love Blog spot and am learning to navigate it very well. There are many features that are old-lady-user-friendly. BUT I'm going to change this name. I discovered quite by accident (???) today that there is another very active blog spot blog with a very similar name (http://kitchentablewriters.blogspot.com/ ) She is a writer from England. At the first glance, she seemed to have a fun blog. Since I don't like plagiarism in any of its ugly faces and she had it first, I'm on a search for a new name.
     Please believe me that I will notify you! I'm finding lots of interesting ways to attract readers and notify friends.
     I don't have the bugs worked out yet, but I'm working on The Silver Hair Gold Fingers (with Red Nails) Wrinkled Writers Who Pray spot. HEY!!! We ARE still viable, you know!
     I love all of you who pop in from time to time.
      And all shall be well if I can just remember that my God said: Even to your old age I will be the same, and even to your graying years I will bear you. (Isaiah 46:4)
             Blessings,

Liz

Another First

This morning we woke to a brand new month. Suddenly. Abruptly!

It used to be hours that rushed by quickly.

Then whole days evaporated into weeks. Now, sometimes I almost miss a whole month. Seems I can't trust my inner calendar and I am highly suspicious of the one on the wall.

We won't even go to the "where-have-all-the-years-gone" thing.

But today is a new month of many new beginnings! This brand new month produces new classes, new friends, new challenges, new sports' seasons, and frightening/exciting new school/education experiences.

Both my granddaughter and my great-grandson [blended family, remember :-) ]are high-flying fifth graders this year. Just typing it produces shivers up and down my spine of racing time.

My grandson and our other great-grandson share the same birth dates in September. Separate families, nine years, and 200 miles separate the boys but the two book-lover friends share questioning minds, deep souls, determined spirits, and an understanding of each other that the rest of us often seem to miss.

September ushers in the hope of cooler weather to renew my droopy herbs and my burdened spirit. That's as far as I'll venture into the changing calendar. I'll not jump ahead but simply sit back, renew, hope,  and enjoy this friendly kind of month with its simple holidays and easy new beginnings.

Happy September !!

...and let's stay in each other's prayers.

Yet I WILL exult in the Lord, I WILL rejoice in the God of my salvation.

The Lord God IS my strength.

Liz

Writing on the Back Porch

     It's been a busy week on our hill. Dear Heart's daughter from Dallas and his daughter and grandson from Ohio arrived to check up on their brother/sister-in-law/uncle's new home building site down the road from us. AND to breathe some fresh hill country air. The girls took in our County Fair and shopped downtown Fredericksburg while some of the guys took the boat over to Canyon Lake. All of us visited with each other, with neighbors, with relatives, and finished up with a hamburger cook-out in our back yard last night.
     This morning, some went to church and the Ohio family headed for the airport. With the kitchen sort of back together, lunch done, and the dishwasher in drying-mode, the house felt too quiet. Since the thermometer on the shady back porch read only 89 degrees, I settled there to think, give thanks, and make notes.
     While my laptop keys clicked, a dozen or so hummingbirds flited around, drinking peacefully and safely at the feeders. I paused to watch our little creatures and remembered the awe-filled event before last night's supper.
     During the pre-supper gab-fest on this very back porch yesterday, someone noted a hummingbird traped in the porch sky-light.

     Patrick, our teen-age great-nephew asked, "Can't we do something? He's going to kill himself hitting the walls." 
     Without hesitating, I sent him for the stepladder and when he was situated within arm's touch of the trapped being, I talked Patrick through finger by finger,silent, slow moves. The laughter around us quieted and the story-tellers paused to listen and watch while Patrick reached up and opened his hand more slowly than slow-motion. After several attempts, he released a sigh and whispered, "I've got it."
     Instinctively, Patrick learned in a split-second the exact technique required to hold the tiny creature securely in his hand without squeezing it's life away. He carefully climbed down the ladder and almost without motion, Patrick opened his hand and his young face beamed realizing he was not Captor, he was Rescuer.
     He stared at the tiny miracle of God's intricate design, it's soft colors glistening and sparkling in the afternoon sun, as it lay death-still in his hand nearly half a minute. Then, almost against his own will, Patrick gently flexed his hand and *blink* the miniature treasure darted away with sudden and shocking power.

     Today, I look up into the dirty skylight and remember long ago when I was trapped with no way to escape. But the hand that rescued me had been pierced with a nail and now, unlike the hummingbird, I give thanks as I tell the story saved by Grace.

     I pray you will have a week that is filled with God's perfect peace. Fly safely.   

Liz

Drooping August

They say confession is good for the soul. Always wondered if “they” started with my grandmother!
However, on my new web page at http://lizwritesintexas.yolasite.com/  I’ve written glowing reports—and shown awesome photographs—about life on our little mound in the Texas Hill Country. Actually, the pictures and words are true; I just forgot about August.

August
in
Texas:
Brutal.
Dry.


Put another way:

HOT

Horrible

Oppressive

Torture!

Okay! Okay! I know there are other places, like Kentucky for instance, that get high temperatures and high humidity. I understand how that feels because I lived one-third of my life in Hearne, Texas which sits right on the Brazos River. Now that is dripping hot.
I also know that in places like Lubbock the thermometer will hit 110—but there is NO MOISTURE. For a few years I lived across the street from Lubbock, Texas—in Carlsbad, New Mexico and even with intermittent windstorms, I’ll take their dry heat any August of any year!
So I’ll never complain about the Texas Hill Country. We have moderate amounts of everything. Except allergens. We have all YOUR pollens, mold, airborne stuff, mold, allergens, and mold…oh, ’scuse me; I said I would not complain.
The bottom line is that a friend caught me—red handed! She sent a message about my new blog and commented:
"..the photo of your home! Wow! You must keep your camera ready. With this heat my flowers look tired."
Well, yes. And no. On the home page of my new website (address above), I note that ‘we pray and write on the front porch from March through October.’  I penned those words on one of our pleasant 83° July days--and my flowers were glorious. I forgot that August would arrive in all her parched droopiness.

Here is our front, scorched flowerbed 3 days ago when the thermometer hit 104 !

Why, even the hummingbirds neglected the feeders on the front porch. I’ve had to put up six feeders around the back porch and fill all of them daily!

So, just come on inside where the ceiling fans whir and the a/c comes on just enough to keep it tolerable while we write, pray, knit, give thanks, and sip mint iced tea!
We’ll go back to the front porch long about mid-September.
Meanwhile, August is hot and dry and parched. And today, even my prayers languish and my spirit is dry. So while the sun bakes the earth and worry fills my heart, this is a good day to pray a renewing prayer with David—a man who knew the touch of God’s hand; a man who also knew sin, fear, and exhaustion; a man whom God loved. And he prayed:
“Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me away from Your presence and do not take Your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of Your salvation and sustain me with a willing spirit.”  PSALM 51:10-12

Blessings,

   Liz