Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Flower Petals
Baseball
Lydia took these snapshots on Saturday night at the Seattle Mariners vs San Diego Padres game at Safeco Field. Grammy and Grandpa drove up to take in both Gabe's Saturday t-ball game and the evening big leagues. The night at the ballpark was a promotional game for Little Leaguers with Little League parade and free sunglasses. Unfortunately, fortunately, Gabe's morning t-ball game was canceled; he ended up vomiting for a large chunk of Friday night and was still battling another round Saturday morning. We thought all plans were going to bust, but Grandpa and Grammy didn't let us resign to that. They individually prayed for Gabe's health and well-being and stayed hopeful and optimistic. We took a ferry that had us at the field with the first hit off home plate. We ended up with with seats in the clouds over first plate. It was the loveliest night in the world for a ball game, deliciously warm, beautiful sky, glowing city, greenest turf. It was a feast for the senses - full stands, blaring fanfare, rowdy cheers, the wave, bright lights, high-tech reader boards, garlic fries, juicy hot dogs, salty-sweet kettle corn, the setting sun's rosy and bright reflections in the skyscrapers. Ichiro stole his 209th base and with succeeding plays enabled a home team Seattle Mariner's victory - a perfect ending for a perfect night. I asked Marshal if he was giving secret signals to the pitcher (above photo), and he said, "Evidently."
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Shore Exploration
I have failed to regularly allow my children this pleasure. Because I've often given the excuse, "too cold, too wet," everyday that the sun peeks through the clouds is proclaimed a "beach day" by Gabe. Several times a week, we drive the bay's shoreline, and many times the tide is out, exposing rocks, barnacles, pools of discovery. Gabe stares out the window with yearning. He never fails to comment, "Look at the beach. Can we go to the beach today?" I have been able to stall from driving down the road, pulling over and letting them out for most of three seasons with a "not-so-good" excuse. Why is it so hard to "make time" for the natural wonders and opportunities right around us? It is Gabe's absolute delight to turn rocks and see the scurry of crabs. He discovered a little eel-like creature called a gunnel last summer. Today he filled his bucket with tiny fish, almost microscopic shrimp, and a few prize crabs before returning them to their natural habitat. His longing was fulfilled for awhile in the low tide of evening. He still asked as we clambered into the car, "Can we come back tomorrow?"
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Finger Smudges
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Seeds
Tender New Sprouts!
Such an everyday miracle of creation has not gone unnoticed in our case. Our unstable soils of a year and a half had given us a sense of desperation. We have waited fifteen days, which feels like weeks, for the sowed seeds to give us a telltale sign of life, of germination in the wood and paper pulp. In the first six hours of sowing, the rains threatened to wash the seed away. My elation at an open window of sky to sow the seeds successfully that morning was quickly dampened at the sight of the slope surfaces slipping in the precipitating onslaught. Are my purchased seeds subject to luck and chance or will the Seed Maker look favorably upon my slippery slopes and grace it with gentle rains and sunshine to call forth the seeds of life and preservation? I never imagined sowing grass seeds could test faith. Despite sowing for success, the final outcome was out of my control. Did I believe God cared for these seeds? My experience and gut level faith told me that God is infinite, all-powerful, loving and "personal" enough to nurture and care for even my grass seeds. He delights in being invited to "show up" in the details of our lives. Seeds and life are his domain. He continues to keep the seeds moist with rain, snow, sleet, and hail, cool days and nights, and just enough sunshine to warm and draw those tender shoots upward. To see those fine whiskers on the face of the land made my soul sing and joy dance within me. I couldn't wait to tell Marshal, and when he failed to see them, I ushered him by the arm, crouched him low, and squinted with him in the late afternoon glow that engulfed them. We even ran our hands over the surface and felt them tickle. Such exultation and relief surged through us. I reflect that our Heavenly Father is concerned about all our sowing and reaping, and a fruitful harvest is His reward.
"Seek the Lord while he may be found; call on him while he is near. Let the wicked forsake their ways and the unrighteous their thoughts. Let them turn to the Lord, and he will have mercy on them, and to our God, for he will freely pardon. 'For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,' declares the Lord. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. As the rain and snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth; It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. Isaiah 55:6-11
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Saturday Afternoon Projects
Today was our first warm Spring day since our one day teaser two weeks ago. (We have been averaging around 42ºF - a bit cool even for the Northwest.) Today was a lovely day to discard coats, don sunglasses for the ball game and get busy on some outside projects in the afternoon. It was an added bonus that Marshal was free to enjoy it. Marshal has been working on a staircase of landscape timbers that he had been dreaming about for a long time. He has been taking advantage of every moment, because by this weekend, life at the hospital will be all-consuming for at least a month or two. It is the plight of a soon to be finishing Resident. He delights in laboring in the out of doors ten times more than over the labor deck.
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