The Birds and Christmas

So, yesterday I'm scooping snow after yet another wintery night, wishing I was on a bike, scooter or motorcycle and I said "This Scoopin' is for the birds!" I then got into my car, slid out of the driveway and headed off into the snowy city and ran some errands, simultaneously wishing I was on a bike, scooter or motorcycle and I said "Drivin' in the snow is for the birds!" I then realized I was getting a doozy of a cold and I said "This cold is for the birds!"

But then I realized something. We scooped so we could get out of the driveway safely, so that we could do errands, so that we could do good things for people, and get enough fuel so that we could get to Sioux Falls and my parent's house in good order.

We left the house, anticipating a pleasant four hour drive.  But first we simply wanted to get a bite to eat before hitting the interstate. However, the roads were stuffed with traffic and had slowed to a crawl, and I thought that this might be easier if I were on a bike, scooter or motorcycle, but instead said "This traffic is for the birds!"  

Then I realized mid-sneeze-n-sniffle that sometimes life doesn't happen as we think it might or should.

I have the freedom to celebrate with my family one of the most amazing events in history, Christ's birth. 

The car was warm and comfortable. I felt a twinge of guilt, and that moment I understood that it wasn't so bad to do all the things that might have otherwise been left for the birds.

God bless all of you and Merry Christmas

Count Your Blessings Name them One by One.

It's not often that my wife and I forget to pray for all you. At the same time we attempt to also count our blessings.

I do that differently than I used to...count blessings that is. I don't see prayer as a way to twist God's giant wrench as the Fix-it-man's right hand helper. I simply pray because it gives my faith Endurance. I see God work when I don't pray and I see Him work when I do. It just seems that when I'm in His Word and when I'm talking to Him, that I'm paying more attention to His inevitably great work, for better or for worse...for better I suppose.

And so be thankful in all things...not necessarily for them. Count your blessings. Watch God work.

We've all experienced a loss of one sort or the other. We have, I have. My friend Heidi wrote about the losses she's experienced and I'll share that with you in a moment. But one of them was her Husband Layton, also a friend I knew. After his death were a couple of others including our baby, Opa, and Uncle Eddy last year. But Before him it was Tina and before her, Diane. In there was Grandma Josie and John...there were others. Now we pray for Mom and Jeff and Uncle Bill and...count your blessings. Not because it was one of Grandma's favorite songs. Not because it's the Christmas season, although it is. Not because the lights are up...and they're bright. Not because the music plays--you play good music. Count because they're there. Entrust them to Him so that at the end of time and at the cusp of eternity, He'll show them to you there (II Timothy 1:12).

The poem below is Heidi's. She's counting.
May God be with you and bless you.

Layton and Samara

The love of my heart.
The fruit of my womb.

On the same long advent day strung apart by years,
You both lay in the same building.

Whirring machines breathing your breath and beating your heart -
A whirring machine looking inside you

as you slept an unnatural sleep.

"He's going."
"She has cancer."

I'll never forget what you felt like in my arms that day.

How warm you were.
How heavy you were.
How still you were.
How light you were.

I lost you that day.
I thought I was losing you that day.

I let you go... into the Father's keeping.

And now you dance and have your being in a place or time or dimension
so far away, or perhaps so close?
Perhaps as close as you - who dance in winter boots
and holiday dress by the Christmas tree.

A saint above.

A saint below.

You are healed.

O Child of God, I miss you. And I will see you someday...
O Child of God, I miss you.
And I will see you this afternoon, after work.

Your mothers' arms long to hold you

On this long advent day.

I'll never forget what you felt like in my arms that day.

How warm you were.
How heavy you were.
How still you were.
How light you were.

Sleep in heavenly peace.

Layton Reid De Vries, my first husband, died seven years ago today on December 11, 2000 as a result of injuries sustained in a car accident. In the same hospital, Samara Grace was diagnosed with neuroblastoma one year ago today on December 11, 2006.