Bird song

Mockingbird outside window in California

A year ago we went to see our daughter and son-in law in California and they were complaining about a mockingbird outside their bedroom window that was singing, chattering doing its thing all night long. I brought a book to read at the time, Why Birds Sing: A journey into the mystery of birdsong by David Rothenberg. The author stated at the end of his scientific search, “Before we are artists or scientists we are human beings, and when we confront phenomena as enigmatic and tenacious as bird song, no single one of our faculties is enough. The beautiful songs of life are older than our entire species, and they will continue long after all human music has dissolved. If the works of God are to be heard on Earth, there is no better place to find them than in the deep intricacies of incomprehensible bird song.” (P. 218)

I have a Biblically based theory that especially birds, who did not fall from grace as we humans did, are directed, as from the beginning, by their creator for His glory. I also believe that God is sovereign and anything that comes into our lives is for His purpose, especially for those who believe. I've experienced birds waking me up early so I could get up and pray and they did not stop until I did. So I said to our daughter and husband, “There must be a reason why God placed this bird there. Perhaps you need to wake up for some reason. By the way, it is mating season and this is what mockingbird males do.” When we returned to see them this year, we slept on a blowup mattress in the baby to be’s room. The mockingbird had no need to sing near their window but was outside our window. He didn’t start his repertoire until it was past time for us to rise so we could join him in praising God for the new life that will come to our family in April.

To hear the mockingbird: http://www.youtube.com/ angelambryant Mockingbird song

Sore spots

Yucca at the patio edge

From last time’s blog, I continued to think about what traps me in life. I thought of how often I get too busy, a trap, and don’t ask others for help. Often if I do ask for help, those I ask are too busy and I can’t get the help I need. So I asked God, “What can I get rid of in my life and who could help me with what is left?” The first thing to go was the predisposition to expecting others won’t help me when I ask. “Forgive my "bitter root" expectations. Take them away, Lord," I asked. The very next day I ran into two people who offered to help in the future and another friend that showed up to work in the garden. I seized her and my husband, Neil, and we tackled a job I have wanted to do for at least seven years, hide a sore spot. It is easier to grab my husband when there is another person willing to help.

We targeted to move some sun loving Yuccas that multiplied with too much fun beyond their space to a new place and purpose. The two of us rounded up the long spikes to tie them up with twine so we wouldn’t lose an eye over it or get injured elsewhere. We cleared out the area underneath and cut the connecting roots with a pruning saw, so the surrounding plants would not be damaged when we moved the few. Neil dug them up and moved them below, three of them as well as babies to a dirt mound he had been preparing to hide the generator, the eye sore in our view. I love the way it softens and we hope the yucca love it there as much.

Again, in these weeks of Lent, I look at sore spots. I am thankful, Lord, that you have the answer to dealing with them. All I need to do is ask. Thank you for the quickly answered prayer, the encouragement of a friend arriving at just the right time to convince Neil to help. Thank you for moving me to another spot in life for your purpose, protecting me and keeping me out of the traps.

Matthew 7:7-8

January's over

Our newly refurbished Monarch woodstove

My mother always said, “If you get through January then you’ll live for the rest of the year.” The Januarys she probably referred to were the bitter cold and snow filled Nova Scotia Januarys where she grew up and where we spent summers. Even in the summers the woodstove in her homestead would be lit first thing in the morning to boil the water from the spring at the foot of the hill, and warm up the chill of the night. In January it would burn day and most of the night. We got through January here in the Northwest easily with just a little snow this week. Not so my favorite aunt, Mom’s sister, Aunt Dolly, from Nova Scotia. This last day of January she died of a stroke surrounded by family. She was an inspiration to me, still writing books at 93 and active in her community making a difference. I will miss her.

So the day after she died, today, Friday, I lit the fire in our newly refurbished Monarch wood stove in memory of Mom and Aunt Dolly who cooked on them. I was glad our regular first Friday of the month jam session was at our house tonight. It was fun to gather with friends who also love music while in the back of my head remembering aunts, uncles and cousins in Nova Scotia gathering every summer to welcome us back. They didn’t call it a jam session then or even a ceilidh (music and storytelling gathering) which it was. For the family gathering everyone brought food and drink, and musical instruments, voices and dancing feet. They gathered at the old homestead, with its pump organ, woodstove and warmth of music and life and stories we didn’t want to end.
Today, I believe there is an even a greater homecoming party in heaven for Aunt Dolly with music and singing and stories as she gathers with her nine brothers and sisters including my Mom in who passed before her and my grandfather and grandmother, who read her Bible stories that she now sees for real. The party, unlike January will never end.

Winter day

Snow geese in Skagit Valley

The snow geese and trumpeter swans gather in the Skagit Valley fields as the wind and rain storms beat upon the Northwest coast. Winter is here. No hurry to get to the ferry line ahead of time, just “locals” riding the ferry. The tides are high and the passage is often rough but all of us depending on the ferries have done this for years and just consider it part of the seasonal change.
There are more winter ducks appearing every day near the shoreline of the bays. The easily noticed abundant birds now are the Oregon Juncos, Chestnut-baked Chickadees, and Flickers. Just lately the temperature drops flocks of robins from higher frozen elevations to congregate on our unfrozen lawns, searching for worms in the deep earth or any plant with berries. I need to plant more berried bushes, such as cotoneaster, pachysandra when the weather warms.

To celebrate Robert Burns Day, Jan 25, and since the days have been cold and crisp and snow capped mountains spectacular, four of us took the ferry to Orcas Island, we made the ferry at the very last minute, and hiked the trail to Turtleback Mountain. We don’t do this enough, stop everything and head off, to forget the lists of chores and capture a day that will not be anymore, with friends to share the fun and beauty. We hiked to over 900 ft elevation enjoying the crisp of weather and spectacular views. We are all thankful that this beautiful 1575 acre piece of land, which was designated a conservation area last year, has public access and will remain this way for future generations. I can look at a beautiful old garry oak, one of the few that survived the shipbuilding era, and know that it will not be cut down unless naturally. I can look at the high grassy meadows that frame the amazing view of the Gulf and San Juan Islands, and know the view will be unhindered. The patchwork quilts of farmland on Orcas may change with new generations and perhaps the sparkling waters will be filled with more than just the single ferry we see ducking in and out from view, but we were grateful for the day to appreciate God’s beauty and good friends. We hope you can do the same this week.

Change

Park renovation started

At our town home in Seattle we awoke last Friday to notice we could suddenly see the lights of the town instead of trees; and upon reflection, the town could now see us. Just the morning before, the trees in the park across the street provided us a sense of privacy, muffling the sounds from the main street beyond. These 80+ year old healthy trees were felled while we were at Neil’s aunt’s side. It was her last day on earth too.

In the past, when loved healthy trees were cut down, I’d be outraged that such beauty could be instantly removed for “progress”. If they were also trees that sheltered and protected, I’d feel exposed to the world, vulnerable. But this time, I was upset about trees only momentarily; the loss of Neil’s Aunt, created in God’s image, immensely outweighed the loss of trees and privacy. We held a memorial service for her a week later and I am still outraged at a death of a loved person, even though she was 92. Although she was not a protector or shelter to us, any loss of life of someone you love still leaves you feeling vulnerable.

The trees removed for park renovation confirm a change in me as well. As a previously private person, exposure of any kind is difficult. Now the lights of the city and traffic remind me to be more at ease with my visibility in the community at large, including this blog. In the beginning, I felt God wanted me to write this blog in spite of fear. Now again He confirms, “Let your light shine before men." I can’t see my own light, not even sure that it is there. But because I can no longer hide behind old trees, the people on the main street can see it coming from my window. My hope is that you might see a little of it shining from this window too.

1. Matthew 5: 14-16

Promise

Worn and old but full of promise

We are in grief. Neil’s 92 year old Aunt Maine, us at her side, stopped breathing life giving air, Wednesday January 9 at 5:30 pm and passed to the other side.

We headed back to the city from the island on Tuesday morning and spent time with her until the end. I grabbed an American Bible Society “Promises of God” booklet and read portions of scripture from it to her. She remained attentive with eyes opened whenever we spoke.
Whenever her breathing became labored, I prayed out loud for God to give her peace and a sense of His Holy presence and that she would have no fear. I held her hand and she held mine and the labored breathing stopped and she breathed more peacefully. I felt it a privilege to be there as I was not able to be there to the end with my mother.

Neil and I took turns sitting by her side and talking to her and just sitting quietly. When she was attentive to Neil or resting, I took the elevator to her apartment two floors up to clear out her room as we knew she would no longer return. and others were waiting for it. While cleaning out drawers and shelves, I found a small well used book as well as some notes with scripture verses, the same that I had read earlier, confirmation that we were on the right track. I also found cards with questions on them. Just then Neil came in to the room wondering what he might read to her. I said to him, “There is no coincidence that I found these notes in the desk drawer. Take these and answer them for her.” On two 3X5 cards she had written, “What does it mean to be born again?” and “What does it mean to be filled with the Holy Spirit?” We both felt a clear directive from the Holy Spirit to give her the answers for which she had been waiting and encouragement for us that she was and would continue to be in His hands. She attentively listened to Neil’s answers and seemed content and peaceful when I returned. I brought her old small frail well used book, much like herself, Ave Maria, from her room. Again, she turned her head toward me and opened her eyes and I read from the most worn pages “Morning Prayers.”
“O my God, my only good, the Author of my being and my last end, I give Thee my heart. Praise, honor, and glory be to Thee forever. Amen.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
I will raise myself up from this bed of sleep, to adore my God, and to labor for the salvation of my soul. Oh, may I rise on the last day unto life everlasting. ...Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of hosts!" I ended by saying, "You will soon be with your Lord Jesus." Within an hour she was praising God on the other side and we were grieving only because we will miss her.

Hebrews 9:23-25; 10:19-23

Winter

Red Oak in Winter

Winter seems the time of letting go. Even the leaves that cling past their time to the red oak have fallen and scattered with the wind of winter. The last of the unclaimed apples still cling to the branches but every day another drops with the temperature. The died back perennials have only the hope of roots and bulbs below the surface keeping life going to sprout up again in spring.

Neil’s 92 year-old, aunt, who never had children is letting go of visible life as well. She lives in a three tiered retirement home near our condo in Seattle. Moving out of her home to ours and then from our home many years ago to independent living she moved to assisted when she could no longer remember medication. Two months ago after breaking her arm in a fall, she moved to the health care center. She now has given up, “failure to thrive” they said, refusing to eat or drink. In her medical directive she adamantly stipulated that she did not want to be kept artificially alive, no feeding tubes, nor IVs. A hospice team has come in to assure her comfort and she has round the clock nurses. We go and sit by her side. We put salve on her lips and do what we can. She mainly is unresponsive but hears us.

I talk to her about heaven and her Lord and Savior Jesus Christ whom she will meet on the other side. She looks my way. I tell her about the book I read "Heaven", she who loved to read listens. I talk about the new heaven and earth that is promised to believers where there is no failing body nor pain nor sorrow. She can see her beloved dog Pepper again. I talk about the hard to imagine beauty of an unspoiled earth. She with a photographer’s eye understands capturing a moment with camera before it fades or passes. No more waiting for that right moment, it will be there all the time, yet unending beauty to capture. She can play her violin in the greatest symphony orchestra ever.

She may be dying, but like the perennials, with her root in Jesus, she will spring up on the other side in full blossom never to die again. And we who wait and watch and care are saddened. But because we also know Jesus as our Lord and Savior, we have hope we can meet her on the other side when the winter season of our life says it is now our turn to let go.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-2 “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die…”