eagle eye

I'm excited to spot a pair of Bald Eagles at Lake Lanier after following the nesting, hatching and fledging of Decorah Eagles earlier this year.

(By the way, they're fascinating again atop a tree in Decorah, IA.)

Evidently I'm not the only eagle spy at the lake. Found this on YouTube (#8 American Bald Eagle at Lake Lanier).

I could barely breathe until the eagles made the first move to fly away. Now I can't wait to see them again. I think I finally get why my husband dangles a line in the water to find fish.

Note to self: pack binoculars.

resolve

Waking up is an adventure as you grow older.

It's like starring in your own reality series on The Learning Channel.
Where am I? Who am I? What am I doing here?

Some of you may know that a few weeks ago, my husband woke up with a detached retina and accused me of slugging him while he slept. (Not guilty) All routine was suspended for the day in order for two doctors on opposite sides of town to examine him in preparation for next day’s surgery. I might as well add there were snow flurries and a flat tire and a hospital parking lot busier than the mall!

A week later, at his post-op appointment, I mentioned to the doctor (he’s my retinal specialist too), that I was having sympathy symptoms (I’m not a hypochondriac). The doctor explained that studies show the visual outcome for patients who have treatment within a day, like my husband, or within 6-10 days is about the same.

I like it when I can pick and choose when to be patient about the process. This leaves me free to quit when things get hard and make snap decisions when things aren’t going my way. Wait, this is The Problem. By denying that time is God’s gift and patience my responsibility, I’ve left no room for God to demonstrate his strength through my dependence on Him. Making sure He receives all the credit is why we wake up every day.

If Christmas is the exclamation point this season, then New Year’s is the question mark. Tuned into our clocks and calendars, we tend to turn our good intentions into resolutions. But we are notoriously unsuccessful at living up to every expectation.

Instead of exhibiting prideful willpower, rely on God’s faithfulness to keep his promises. We make it our goal to please him. (2 Cor.: 5:9). Claim God’s power to reveal the characteristics His Spirit has already communicated within believers. But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. (Gal. 5:22) Rest assured that these changes within you are your inheritance, not your ability. You will not succeed by your own strength or power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord. (Zech. 4:6)

Enter promises of God at www.biblegateway.com or google the phrase to find over 1.5 million resources. A topical Bible and concordance are helpful for finding key scriptures to align God’s attributes with your metamorphosis. We plan the way we want to live, but only God makes us able to live it. (Prov. 16:9)

Weave His promises into your routine. Set up your passwords as Bible verse references. Receive a daily email devotional to focus your mind and purpose on Jesus. Write a verse on the calendar as you would an appointment for each month. Repeat it aloud whether elated or distressed and look for opportunities to offer it to others as easily as you might discuss the weather. Pray God’s promise back to Him and remind Him that you are aware and thankful for the hard work He will accomplish day-by-day within you. Do not change yourselves to be like the people of this world, but be changed within by a new way of thinking. (Romans 12:2)

When an obstacle threatens to overwhelm or you’re sleepless for rehashing your circumstances, sing to yourself God’s words. Imagine the One who spoke creation into existence singing too. He is your change agent and the answer to every resolution.

The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.

Guided by God

If you’ve moved at least once, you may have survived a door that, instead of opening into the new bedroom, unexpectedly dropped into the basement. (true story) Or you painstakingly remodeled the kitchen or bath all over again in a different house. You probably adjusted to new school and office routines. Maybe you planted your favorite perennials because someone else was enjoying the original effort blooming at your former home. Longer distances may have meant some homesick holidays or brought your family closer to far-flung kin.

The ability to adapt to change is one of a family’s best characteristics.

Think of the last time you were the new person who showed up in an old place? It may have been your expectations, your hairstyle or shoes (or lack thereof) setting you apart. They were discussing a strange idea or speaking a foreign language. You were carrying luggage with id tags. Just thinking about the experience now, you are feeling exhilarated, stuffing a knapsack to show up at the airport and whimsically pick your destination (ala my husband). Or the mere idea of packing sends you running for the security blanket (that's me). When was the last time you were surprised by God or allowed him to break you out of a routine?

As Christian clans with wide interests and wild opinions, we share a few basics with the global church. God united us in his Namesake and documented our heritage in the Bible. More than the bestselling-ever collection of books, the Bible is our unique GPS, chock-full of colorful adventures complete with map settings and diverse narration, wired with human tension and supernaturally powered. Even the final destination is pre-set.

Living in love across time and space requires an enormous amount of give and take, an enduring patience with wise to poor choices, and a liberal use of I’m sorry and I don’t know. Paul had experienced his share of new circumstances and complicated relationships when he advised Galatians: Do good to all, especially to those who are of the household of faith. Are you willing to risk changing your mind in order to listen to people more carefully and to love people more openly?

When we meet up with other Christians, it’s always a potluck occasion. Servings of encouragement, challenging questions, gratitude and generosity are on the menu. Through standing firm in our Father, our Name and our Story, communion is the defining moment Christians become more together as an eternal family than we are individually. What are you preparing to bring to the Great Communion?

Because you and I are in Christ Jesus, His glory and our good are linked together. Because we are united with Christ, whatever is for His glory is also for our good. And whatever is for our good is for His glory.
-Jerry Bridges: Trusting God, 1988

treat 'n trick

It's a cold and rainy halloween!

The combination of chilly, wet night, and slipping mask resulted in sore throat and nearsighted misery the only time I trick or treated as a child. So at a tender young age, I made up my mind it was more fun to stay home, read mysteries, and pass out the goodies than to traipse around and take my chances.

It's a hike for neighbor kids since our houses aren't so close together.

I like to reward doorbell ringers with a substantial prize. This year, it's full size Reese's. We bought snack size Heath bars too, but after sampling a few too many, Hubby reasoned that these, being the size of Scrabble pieces, should only be distributed as the fall back stash.

Holiday planning stresses me out for deep psychological reasons I have yet to discover, but I do like to celebrate occasions spontaneously. With people and ingredients on hand. Overripe bananas were the inspiration for filling the house with wonderful aroma. Serve warm or toast later. Simply, randomly festive. Boo y'all.

One Bowl Banana Bread

(adapted from Betty Crocker and other sources)

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Get ready to bake at least one hour plus.

Measure ingredients into one bowl, stir to mix; fold in fruit. Pour into prepared pan. (one large loaf, two smaller ones or muffin cups)

2 cups flour, white or wheat combined

1/2 cup sugar, brown or white

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 teaspoon salt

3 Tablespoons salad oil

2 eggs

heaping two cups mashed bananas (3-6 bananas, add other mushy fruit, applesauce or sour cream to supplement; try blueberries)
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teas nutmeg

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 cup chopped nuts (optional)

Now for the trick: If you have more overripe bananas than you need or you just like to keep them on hand for spur-of-the moment baking, try freezing them. Just peel first before wrapping in plastic. If you leave off labeling like I tend to do, someone might try to microwave one as a bratwurst someday, with the bun already dressed with mustard and relish. Not that I'm verifying that has happened at my house. I'm just sayin'...

five

5 years ago I started blogging in order to follow my daughter's mission trip to Belize. In order to open my mouth and make a comment on the team's updates, I had to register first. That's like waving a red flag in the bullring. And I'm not comparing myself to the matador.

After several more missions accomplished, my weblog is still unlocked with the pass key from the right Gmail account. 5 years ago, I didn't have one Gmail account and now I have two. That's not even counting the original AOL charged by the minute and the Comcast account and the one over at Yahoo. I think Hotmail gave up on me several times. A nice thing I've noticed is the decline in spam. Either the filters have improved or spam's given up on me too.

Things have gotten really social on the internet in the last 5 years. Now I'm hanging out on Facebook and Twitter @aparentlee. Most of my job is done through email and that suits me just fine because editing my thoughts usually works out better. For a break in routine, the proverbial trip to the water cooler, the cursory glance into the next cubicle, I just login or refresh the page and catch up.

What started as a convenient way to journal and comment and search a world-wide library has led to interaction across the boundaries of time and distance. Much like my five-year-old self sitting on the concrete stoop in front of my small-town home, watching the world parading by, imagining the possibilities, five decades later, I've still got a perch.

this day the Lord made

If a mother saves the letters her children sent to her, each bundle wrapped with a ribbon and stowed in a box under her bed for them to find some day and realize how precious their words were to her, how much more does God remember each prayer He inhales and work its answer into His will?

If a mother slips notes throughout her cupboards and drawers for her children to read and smile together as they divide her possessions, how much more does God display in every moment, why He created people in His image, and placed them in a world of His making to lavish them with His love and lead them with His Word?

If a mother reflects the forgiveness of her Father, giving to those who others tend to forget, so that even when she closes her eyes and moves to heaven, and her children bury her tent among the graves of her ancestors, yet the memory of her graceful ways still warms them, how much more does God, the Ancient of Days, accomplish salvation through His sacrifice and securely cover His children with righteousness throughout eternity?

Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne?
Though she may forget, I will not forget you!
See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands... (Isaiah 49:15-16)

to be or not to be

Prompted by my son-in-law's conviction to participate not at the polls, I've been reflecting on my personal history of political movement. While my vote represents an opinion about the government or the people representing me, I have far too many of those (opinions), exercised way too often. It's not like I relish all my rights all the time either. I have the freedom to employ a pilot to drop me out of her plane in a parachute and then fly off without me, but I've not done that yet.

The responsibility of voting can be exhilarating and burdensome. It means I've had to decide some things and make some guesses too. It takes time to agonize over the choices. I might eat the same breakfast every morning because it was a good decision once and requires little thought to repeat; well, I've voted that way too. Considering how I will cast my vote has created excitement in a grass roots cause and inordinate anxiety about what will happen next in the world if I personally pick the wrong person. It's led me to lean on my own understanding or vent my fears instead of relying on what God has in mind. And if I presume to know what God has in mind, then my vote has taken on a morally superior direction, as if my way can be the only right one. Elections aside, that attitude makes me dangerous.

I suppose I have voted for some good reasons but for poorer ones too. I have showed up at the poll fixating more on remembering how to operate the curtain or the funny pen, will I recognize the ballot or will I make a fool of myself by forgetting my own name or making a forbidden noise? I've pulled the lever for a straight ticket or selected all the underdogs. Matched up every Republican with a corresponding Democrat and then tossed in an Independent perspective. Or worried that I was taking too long. I've seen some regrettable things happen when decisions were coerced for the sole purpose of unity so I value--and vote for--diversity in government.

The vote is one thing I won't be able to return if I have buyer's remorse, but I have another crack at it in a few years. Noticed how that pendulum of power swings? Reporters stretch, spin, and repeat the "news" to fit the advertiser's format. I suffer them a bit, but I prefer a more objective consumer reports approach. It's easy to get hung up on what politicians say they will do but unless the shoe fits like a glove, there's plenty of wiggle room for anything to happen. It reminds me of all the careful homework I did to prepare to be a parent and then once the kiddies arrived, the best laid plans changed dramatically. Book learning just didn't hold up to bathwater.

Some years I've procrastinated, waiting for some drama that would make up my mind or if it rained or I had a better excuse, then I stayed home. I could still cheer my team on by watching the returns, but like the football game between two celebrated rivals, the results were out of my control no matter how hard I hollered.

Of all the votes I have or have not cast, after it's over I move on and don't usually obsess which side I was rooting for. It seems to be working out in the end. (I still have a Perot button to remind me about that one time.) The great thing about being an American citizen is that I have the precious freedom, like the freedom to worship, that can't be forced on me or extricated by others more pious making me feel guilty if I do or don't.