FALL IS COMING!

Fall is in the air.  I can feel it in my bones.  No, I don’t see it, and—aside from a faint sense of days cooling—I don’t feel it.  But it’s there.  It’s coming.  Maybe it’s the fact that the heat is less intense these days.  I’m down to one shower a day now here in Kona, Hawaii.  Like the tail end of an Indian Summer in the Northwest, we are lingering between summer and fall.   We pull the blanket on us earlier in the evening when Randy and I fall into bed. 

My husband thinks I’m crazy for saying that fall is beginning, or that it’s even cooler.  But I know it’s just around the corner.  It’s more than outward appearances. It’s a knowing of a season, of an imprint in my soul, like some kind of genetic cycle as sure as the maple leaves turning yellow in my native Forest Park in Portland. 

When I got home today after a missions celebration, the culmination of our first unit of study at our boys’ school, I made motions towards my bed.  I needed a nap.  But it would have to wait.  There was a fall lighting that filled up my room, squeezing between the flickering blinds on my window. I couldn't pass it up.  It was lower in the sky and softer than normal.  It drew me out onto the lanai from my nap.

What was that?

An edge to the heat.  A sense of expectation.  Newness to come. 

As a school teacher, fall has always brought a sense of a fresh start. It’s a new school year here in Kona, and new families are coming in to our co-op school community.  But there’s an on-the-edgeness in my spirit as well.  Strong enough to come see, to look and wait and pray, to see what God might be up to in this new season.

I find it interesting that I just submitted an article to the local paper about a ship coming in this Saturday.  Yet I find myself in my mind’s eye standing on a dock, waiting.  Waiting for a ship—a new thing and rare treat—to come in.   How could my soul sense fall when my body scarcely senses any freedom at all? 

I've seen glimpses of that new ship.  In my heart she’s called Hope.  When people cannot find her, they yell out for Hope found, for expectations met.   I must have a ride on that ship.   “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.”  Proverbs 13:12

Let’s not defer hope any longer.

As I got up from my nap and cooked up some zucchini, green beans, and sweet onions from the market, I relished every bit of the fall meal preparation.  I sensed the ship was already coming in.   There were things that we didn't expect to happen in this season in our lives, but they are happening.  Randy has been asked to preach at our church once a month.  Friends who take the services at the chapel at Waikaloa Hilton asked if we would give the message and lead worship there monthly as well. 

Out on the lanai, I asked the Lord why this favor.  He reminded me that we have been faithfully working, patiently plowing. 

I wondered if it was another reason as well.  I have been asked to re-join our worship team at church, something I occasionally did a year ago.  I had been feeling like music was missing in my life, and our pastor just asked me if I’d start playing keys and singing again, starting this Sunday. 

 The university where I work has asked me to write articles for the paper.  Other than one earlier press release, I wondered if this would actually happen.But when I was  asked to write this piece about the ship coming in, I began to have hope.  I co-authored it with a gentleman in the community, and then was asked to come to the advance interview with the YWAM Ships director and the reporter to help navigate this whole paper-publicity stuff.  I didn't see that coming. 

But it is coming.

I believe I had to lay down my desire to help lead worship.  I had to let go of my hankering to write regularly for the paper.  I went through a season of being humbled over some things.  These desires went into the ground and have now sprung back up.  

Jo Jo, age two, peeks into our dining room from next to our Japanese Maple bush, moving into full color.

A fall memory I have of back home was how our Japanese lace maple tree would turn bright red in October.  It stood just outside our dining room, where we had one single painting on the wall:  it was a large print by Raoul Dufy called The Harvest.  We would enjoy it with our little boys as we looked out onto the world, the trees turning in Forest Park, and as we welcomed the seasons of our lives.

               I welcome this fall season now here in Hawaii, even if I only feel it in my bones.

Evan's kindergarten field trip to the pumpkin patch.

Multnomah Falls  is one of our favorite places to visit in the fall  when home in Portland. 

A huge smile for a boy who found a HUGE leaf pile! 

Turbulence!

                             

                                     

                                                                                                                   March 19, 2013

                “I don’t normally get drunk,” the yellow-eyed, missing-toothed older man said as he sat next to me on the plane.  “But oh, boy, did I ever get drunk last night!”  I believed him.  As I heard his story and that of his grieving daughter with him, I felt only compassion.   As soon as Tim and Kristi sat down, I knew they weren’t doing well.  The last to board the plane, they reeked of cigarettes.  I could tell that they needed those last minutes to suck down their smokes in order to last the trip from San Jose to Seattle.   I was going to see my sister who was going through some real shaking with her health.  Tim and his daughter were going through their own shaking. 

                “We’re here to remember her mother, who died a year ago this week.  It’s been hard.”  He didn’t need to tell me. Her silent, hurting eyes that stared far away, and her father’s frequent kisses told me they were still in the thick of grieving.  “We needed to go back to Morro Bay to be where she last lived.”

Morro Bay.  How did I know that town?  It hit me: the landlord of our condo in Kona had just died of a sudden heart attack at his home in Morro Bay.  What are the chances?  I asked myself.  Two sets of families grieving at the same time in the same small town, coincidentally both intersecting our lives.   

Or was it coincidence? When Tim plopped down next to me on the plane, a friend immediately came to mind.  She died a few years ago of liver failure.   I remembered how this friend couldn’t go more than 30 minutes without a smoke.  When some of us took a road trip and were jammed into a hotel room, it was more than she could handle.   She had to step out often for a stiff drink.  I remembered her pain and the relief she turned to during that time.  It helped me understand Tim’s actions as he remembered the death of his ex-wife. 

“We went to the shell shop she loved to frequent.  I put my feet all over the mat on the floor.  I wanted to step where her feet had walked.” 

Shaking.  Suffering. Loss remembered.  

As the flight continued, I tried to give these two the space they needed. Tim pulled out a movie player and put on a flick from the 80’s for comfort food:  Dirty Dancing.    I stared out my window and listened to my ipod.  Snow capped volcanoes formed a line with Mt. Shasta.  One peak went directly under our plane.  I marveled at the pure white top and radial pattern of powdered sugar that ran down the pine ravines. 

“ I will open up my heart,

Search me in the deepest part,

And I will stand in cleansing fire

Of you my Purifier,

Of you my Purifier.”

                Thus sang Michael W. Smith from his Worship album. 

Man, can I do that?  Can I stand and let my heart be purified like the snow below me?  My sister was doing it.  This hurting man and his daughter were doing it.  Whether or not we welcome it, shaking comes.

“Turbulence,” Tim informed me.  “More turbulence.”  The plane jolted a few times.  “Ping!”  The light lit above our heads. Confidence came with the captain’s voice over the intercom:  “Please return to your seats.    We are experiencing turbulence.  The seatbelt light is turned on.  Please make sure you are strapped in.” 

Tim hastily closed up his movie in anticipation.  I was strapped in.  Was I ready to face the turbulence in my sister’s life?  I wondered what I would see when I got to her home.  She had been very ill--so ill that she had been flown to the Mayo Clinic by our father to try and get answers a couple weeks before.  She found none, and in fact encountered more hardship from reactions to meds-mixed-with-meds.  Jo had lost 30 pounds and ended up in the E.R.  

She was thrilled that I was coming though, and happily met me at Sea-Tac, a warm coat ready to be shared with her Pacific Island sister. In the week that followed, I would follow my sister to wherever a life-with-shaking would take her:  to doctor appointments, sitting by her on the bed while she rocked back and forth in pain, learning just the right spot to rub up under her skull, super hard, to bring her pain down a notch. 

It was not easy. When her pain   reached Level Nine after she took a bath, she cried out for me to bring in her clothes from the bathroom, and then kept crying while her husband prepared to give her the pain-killing shot.  Many people were offering suggestions for help and treatments---some welcomed and not-so-welcomed.  Shakily, exhausted from three years of three-four hour stints of sleep per night, Jo and her husband move forward, clinging to each other, their close family, and to the hope that God is good and that this “will not be unto death.” 

I do what I can, bringing cold wash cloths, cleaning a bit, gardening some, and just being with Jo in her shaking.  She is suffering, driving errands that need to happen, but with her hand pressed tightly over her right eye.  She tirelessly teaches her youngest son his math, and helps Jacob with his paper for Bellevue College.  She teams up with Rich to make the killer-scratch mac and cheese our mom used to make, and then asks if I want to join her in bed to write and read while Rich sets  up Caleb’s new sound system.  “It will be fun!” She says with a twinkle in her eye.  I join her, until she turns over and sleeps, exhausted.  Glad to see her drift off asleep, I turn the light off, happy to see an end—however short-lived--to the turbulence.   

Having Church at Walmart

                                                               Feb. 17, 2013

Today I had church at Walmart. Mind you there was no singing, nor did we bow down to the god of materialism, but there were elements of real church happening. 

It started in the make-up aisle.  Actually, a bunch of stuff happened in that section.  I noticed a woman had a great collection of herbs in her shopping cart.  I complimented her on her healthy purchases. “Thanks!” she said, “They are a birthday gift for my neighbor.”  What a cool idea, I thought.  I would love to try that some time to cheer up my neighbor. 

While I was pondering this, that very neighbor walked by!  She is a sweet, older lady who works at Walmart.  “Sarah, is that you?” 

          “Hi Kris, I thought that was you!  How are you?” 

I found out Sarah (name changed) wasn't doing so great.   “I’m really suffering from anxiety.”  Sarah is suffering from more than that.  Cancer has taken her hair in the last year, and has left her on meds that make her shaky. 

I listened and tried to sympathize, though inwardly I was thinking if I had cancer I could be anxious as well.  When she said, “It just seems there’s no kicking this anxiety,” I decided there was something we could do.

Right there in front of the L’oreal section, Sarah and I had ministry time.  We bowed our heads and prayed one of my sixty-second prayers.  “Thank you sooo much, Sarah smiled.”  I asked if she was drinking coffee.  I found out that she drinks de-caf regularly, and suggested that if she is having anxiety attacks to maybe just do herbal stuff.  De-caf still has a percentage of caffeine in it. 

As Sarah went on to stocking her shelf, I got about five feet away and ran into Jo.  Because I champion for the local school where her sons attended, she always has a big smile for me. I told her how we’d attended the Robotics Club’s demo yesterday at Kealakehe High.    I also mentioned that this plus the speech and debate club, and the United Nations club just might woo our son Evan there in a couple years.     Jo pointed out that the public high school has so many Advanced Placement classes and unique offerings that the smaller private school simply does not have.  “God will make it clear to you, though, what you are to do.  It can be different for each child.  If you really seek Him on where your sons attend school, you can’t lose.”

Wow.  Major encouragement for me right there next to the cotton balls.  

Before Jo could move on, Phillip and his son Daniel stopped for a chat.  Kindergartner Daniel was happily scrolling through a game on his new Kindle while his papa added things around him in the cart.  “I’m happy that he has this Kindle and can do all of these computer things, but I don’t like how he downloads games without asking me.”

“Ah,” the elder Jo piped up.  “Like anything, the Kindle is just another opportunity for parents to be the parents.  It’s ultimately up to us what they watch and play.”  OK.  A word of exhortation and parenting message right there near the mascara section.

I gathered my boys from the toy section and picked out a birthday card with Jo Jo  for a classmate.  We ran into a few more friends with whom we smiled or high-fived or hugged. 

As we got in line at the check stand, Daniel and his family were in front of us.  “We’re making a smoothie,” Daniel told me.  He pointed to a bag of carrots.  “My sweetheart makes especially healthy ones.  You know the lawyer on campus?”

“You mean Diane, who does the all the VISA stuff?”

“Yeah, he said in his Brazilian accent. “She is ill.  We are making her a special drink.”

There’s body ministry.  I could tell by Daniel’s face that this was serious.  I made a mental note to pray for this woman as well.    My boys unloaded our shopping cart and cheerfully carried out my heavy bags to the car.  Youth were now serving as we rounded out the end of our “Walmart church service.”   

I climbed in the car next to my sleeping husband (Is that another parallel?  Sleeping husbands in church??)  and told him I felt refreshed and encouraged.  I’d just come from church inside Walmart.

                                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As we filed out of the sanctuary of our Living Hope Church a couple Sundays ago, our pastor called out, “Now it’s time for real church!  Let’s go get some refreshments in the garden!”   At the “real church,” we ate snacks, hugged on friends, prayed with people if we felt led, and received encouragement from each other.   Aside from the eating part, that’s pretty much what happened in the make-up section at Walmart.

CLOTHED IN KINDNESS

                                                                                Jan. 27, 2013   

Wonderful time with Jo and Rich  at a great Thai restaurant

When I returned from three exceptional weeks with family and friends in the Northwest this Christmas, I felt cloaked in the love of my family.  Their smiles and words were fresh in my mind, their hugs still impressed on my shoulders, and their prayers were etched in my spirit.       

I don’t think the benefits of a trip out of town to visit family—even when the town you’re leaving is a desirable spot in Hawaii—can be accurately portrayed.  As I read some scriptures about “clothing yourself,” I want to share my reflections.

In Colossians 3:12-14, Paul says, “Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.”  This is talking about clothing myself, which I yearn to do.  However, on this time back home, I feel as if I’ve been draped by others’ kindness, gentleness, and love.   I felt it in:

 My sister cheerfully making room for us “to play with cousins” for a week despite her intense headaches. 

We love John!  

·        

Lots of good play time with "the cousins" at the Family Fun Ctr in Tukwila

·         My dad and step-mom, Beth, scouring closets to clothe our boys with winter clothes when an unexpected snow storm (and power outage) hit.    Beth found warmer gear for Jo Jo and all of us.  Dad cranked up the generator, served hot drinks, and took us out to dinner and a movie.  

Great fun with Grandpa and Grandma Beth, eating well, catching up, playing Scrabble, going out for snowball fights and walks in the snow!

Look out, Ev!!

·         The special breakfast my friend, Tani, made for me, draping me with a soft blanket as we sat on the couch and pored over pictures.  I am so blessed by Tani's long-term friendship!

     The apple crisp my college roommate, Julie cooked up for our family on a cold night at her Greenlake Guest House.

How fun to see Julie and Blayne's B and B, the only one on Greenlake! Reminisced about sharing January b.days 1 day apart as former roomies.

·          At my mother’s, I felt clothed in love when she served up fabulous candle-lit meals for us despite only days from leaving herself for another trip to Uganda.   This Hawaii-acclimatized daughter lived in Mom’s fleece sweats while home for the holidays in 2 feet of snow at the Methow Valley Ranch See the ranch here.  

What a treat to join Pete, Tammy, Claire , and Bobo for a longer visit at Grandma's!

Alaskan Uncle Pete shows da boyz how sledding is done in the "balmy weather" of 32 degrees!

I     I cannot forget Fetta and Jackie Johnson, who as usual, said, "Mi casa es su casa" while we were home in Portland.  What a break it is for us to stay with these dear friends, for our boys to have down time, and just to have our own space to relax.

Jackie  demonstrates his new recliner in the basement they recently remodeled.  Fetta, as usual, is cracking a joke in the background.

(

·         I also felt kindness in the full spread of food prepared by my old waitressing/teacher buddy Jennifer Arns as she hosted a gathering of our friends in the Portland area. 

Sooo wonderful connecting to old college friends and church friends from when we were "young adults." Thank you, Jennifer and Craig Arns!

  It was more than hospitality.  Leaving was a gathering-up of things and bringing with.  Like some overflowing cornucopia from Thanksgiving, my luggage and arms were stuffed with love.

·         

•     My dad and step-mom’s birthday gift was far beyond what I’d expected.  I asked for a bottle of light refreshing perfume from L’Occitane See link to the Citrus Verbena fragrance. .  Instead I received the delux set with the body cream and the shower gel.  (I don’t do perfume.  Due to having a husband with scent allergies, I haven’t worn perfume for years.  But here was a scent that he can handle, so I’m drenching myself in it, and smothering my skin in it as I bathe!)
•       My sister decided she didn’t need a beautiful sleeveless dress anymore, which would be perfect for nicer events in Hawaii.  I wore it to church my first Sunday home, along with the Bolo leather shoes that didn’t quite fit my sister. 

•         My mom decided to not just give me one beaded necklace from Uganda, but another matching set of beautifully carved necklace and bracelet.  

•         My friend Gayle Nelson gave me “just some earrings,” which turned out to be about a dozen hand-made pairs and a necklace she had created. 

Old Portland buddies Robin Clark, Julie Pietila, and Gayle Nelson outside of the Alameda Brew Pub, where we caught up with our hubbies over lunch.

 Gayle suggested I give some earrings away. I ended up giving some to some Salvation Army friends who later gave me cultural earrings for my birthday. 

Sooo great to run into Freddy and Kiko in town, to visit a Marshallese store with them, and then receive this special gift of traditional earrings from Kiko for my b.day

I carry this love with me. I am wrapped in it (literally now in January, we sleep under a gorgeous hand-made quilt from my step-mom, Beth).  I want to reflect this love to those around me.  I want to be quick to offer a meal, or some earrings, or a hug or a real-time prayer. 

I love the context of the passage in Colossians:  “Bear with each other…. Forgive whatever grievance you have against one another… Forgive as the Lord forgave you, and above all of these virtues, PUT ON love.” 

God, show me how to put you on.  Show me how to individualize gifts or cards or acts of service for each person in my path that needs an extra touch from you.  Help me to bear with one another and to be bound in unity in the community in which I work.  “Over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.”(v. 14)

Now, as my friends and family go back to their jobs in the freezing NW half an ocean away,  

(See photo of teachers and students gathered around flag/courtyard for early morning singing at Cedar Tree Classical Christian School where I used to teach and our kids attended.) and as I come back to “the rock,” and swimming outdoors and gaining my color back—I smile.  

Back home, on a "high surf" day at End of the World Beach

 I am warmed again, by the gifts from home, from the tangible markers of my Father’s love for me. 

“Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace.  And be thankful” (v. 15). 

Gladly.