From White-Capped Mountainous Men

Ahh, I have missed being here with you!

Photo credit to my cousin, Naomi W.

Sipping dark roast coffee in my favorite brown and navy mug, I'm pulled up close to my roll top wooden desk and smiling as I think of you.

• You: my online community of bloggers in these growing friendships across the nation and across the world; or
• You: this group of almost 500 of you who have signed up to receive these blog posts by email; or 
• You: friends, family, and acquaintances from women's retreats, conferences, and MOPS groups who stop in here from my facebook page; and
•  You: the quiet readers online who smile, and nod, and I know we are sharing a common experience at times too...

I am so thankful for you and humbled by you being here. Thank you.

 I flew out to Washington state last week to honor my grandma at her celebration of life service in Yakima. Touching down at the Seattle-Tacoma airport, I craned my head for glimpses of mountains.

The weekend flashed by in vivid moments with relatives:

• My mom and cousin delighted at the chance to buy dozens of roses for the occasion. Fragrant crimson, peach, coral, honeyed-yellows, pinks, and white roses dotted the church dining room
• Long talks with my brother and sister curled up around his gas stove, wrapped in warm blankets
• Tucking up legs under us on a couch, or standing and swaying with the motions of passing people, my cousins and I got re-acquainted, and I got to meet old family friends and relatives too.
• My grandpa moved to tears as we hugged, and later hearing his wavering but strong voice as he sang a Hebrew blessing from the Old Testament over his extended family. 

I sing that in silence for you too, my friends, this weekend.

The Lord bless you
and keep you;
the Lord make his face shine on you
 and be gracious to you; 
the Lord turn his face towards you 
and give you peace        (from the Bible book of Numbers, chapter 6).

And as craggy white-capped Mount Rainier towered across the airport, looming larger than I could believe, my brother's car pulled away from the curb, and I strode into the airport that Sunday afternoon. My grandpa's voice and words still linger.

Forested Parking Lots and Crowded Adventures

They barely fit into the five seater Saturn now. Long legs, broad shoulders and gangly arms elbow gently into each other, as my teens settle in comfortably. Their preschool brother is close by in a generational blue tufted car seat. 

This Saturday, I was squirming excitedly in the front seat, and they were tucked in snugly in the back seat as we drove off to get our Christmas tree.  It’s tradition to race through the tiny lot of a local family owned hardware store, deciding upon the perfect tree.  It takes imagination to see past the sparse sides, and the occasional mangled lower branches to see a tree’s potential. This one? That one? Our family paced the tree aisles, sniffing the pine sap, and fingering the fir needles. 

A black felt hat fell over my toddler’s eyes, as he ambled through the parking lot forest with us, curious about this adventure.  We took some cheesy family photos in the lot beside our chosen tree, already imagining its true beauty.  A battered hand written sign over the exit urged us to cut off the bottom two or three inches of the tree so it could soak up sufficient water to stay fresh all season. 

My husband and oldest son stood on either side of our car securing our tree to the top with twine. Their sizes and frames are so similar now. 

At home, while the tree warmed up and the preschooler napped, I twisted green wire around cinnamon scented pinecones for a natural tree ornament. The smells of pine and cinnamon filled the house. 

 Later, Christmas carols serenaded us while our family of five circled the colored lights, suspended pine cones and cinnamon sticks, and wrapped the tree in tiaras of wooden red balls. 

God has whispered to me this week since …

…of fragrance. Am I softly exuding an aroma that is pleasing and points to the Source?

  For we are to God the pleasing aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. (2 Corinthians 2:15) 

…of the Artist’s ability to see past my sparse sides and mangled edges to the true beauty and potential that I can be once he entwines me with His light and beauty. 

…of having my hard impervious edges cut off so I can soak up life-giving Water each day, so I’ll stay alive and vibrant. 

What about you? Floating fragrance, disguised potential, or a need to soak up fresh daily water… what is God most whispering to you today?