Nancy

The Thanksgiving Table

November 25, 2014 by Nancy 18 Comments

I saw her coming down the hall as I was setting up for The Hope of Glory class in assisted living. Her feet were well padded with several pairs of socks, making it possible for her to propel her wheelchair slowly along using one foot at a time.

“Nellie!” I called out. “Are you coming to Bible study? Would you like me to push you?” She answered yes to both questions and then lifted her feet straight in front of her to expedite our journey into the activities room where I wheeled her to the end of the table.

On the table was a multi-colored fall tablecloth. It was one I’d taken home to wash after an event at church, only I’d forgotten to take it in on Sunday, so it was still in the backseat of my car. I saw it when I reached for my book and plate of cookies for class. At the last second I grabbed the tablecloth also, thinking it might brighten someone’s day. Little did I know how much.

During class, I noticed how fascinated Nellie was with the tablecloth. “Oh look,” she said, pointing with her gnarled finger to specific places in the design. “There are apples and grapes on here. I could make apple juice with apples like that—and grape juice with those grapes, too!”

Our lesson was titled Attitude of Gratitude: How it’s important for us, as we age, to replace any grumbling with gratitude for the gift of living a long and productive life. We looked at key Scriptures on thankfulness, including how we are to give thanks in all circumstances as we read in 1 Thessalonians 5:18—not necessarily for all circumstances but in all circumstances. And we talked about how remembering what the Lord has done for us in the past can help us be more grateful in the present. But I’m not sure Nellie was listening.

I noticed her place both hands on the tablecloth, palms down, and begin smoothing out the wrinkles, just as women have done for generations when setting a Thanksgiving table. What is she thinking about, I wondered. Is she remembering Thanksgivings when she set a beautiful table in her home for her husband and children, or when she helped her grandmother smooth out her best linen tablecloth for a family Thanksgiving on the farm?

Nellie picked up one edge of the cloth and slowly ran her fingers along the hem to the corner. I wondered how many tablecloths she had laundered and folded in her lifetime.

I felt so blessed after class. We don’t have family coming home for Thanksgiving this year, so I won’t be setting a fancy table or stuffing a turkey. I’m fine with going out for a change, but seeing Nellie’s reaction to that tablecloth brought back a flood of treasured memories. I remembered my mother’s Thanksgiving table with mums in the turkey centerpiece, and all the tables I set for our family over the years.

Are you setting a table this year? If so, get out your best tablecloth. Smooth out the wrinkles with both hands. During dinner, record the faces gathered ‘round the table in your heart. We can’t always be with the people we’d like to be with on Thanksgiving due to weather, distance, resources, even death or divorce. But we can be grateful for those who are around the table with us, and be fully present for them.

At the end of class today, when I asked Nellie if she had any prayer requests to add to our list, she looked up at me and smiled. After a moment’s pause, she said, “Just for everyone to be happy.” Me, too, Nellie. Me too. Happy Thanksgiving.

Fall Gardens

November 19, 2014 by Nancy 14 Comments

Before last week’s brutal cold and snow, my husband and I busied ourselves getting the gardens ready for winter. I was reminded of a Back Porch Break classic column from 19 falls ago:

Sometimes the simplest tasks can bring unexpected rewards when we have the time to do them consciously. I’m reminded of this as I make one last trip through the yard and garden before winter.

When the last of the leaves go into the lawn bag, I find myself appreciating the tenaciousness with which they held to the trees. Don’t we all try to hold on in times of change? Two leaves escape and bounce across the yard in the wind. The cat chases after them for a while and then decides he will also let them go.

On top of the leaves go the trimmings from the pansy plants in the big iron pot by the door. My mom and I are connected by pansies. I remember the photos I sent her last summer, and how hard it was to convince a little grandchild to stay next to the pot long enough for me to snap the picture. As usual, the plants are left in place in hopes they’ll make it through the winter.

Clipping the heads off a row of dianthus, I notice new green growth underneath the dead stems. No doubt the plants were fooled by the warm days of autumn. I smile at their impatience and hope they won’t suffer too much for it.

Arriving in front of a stand of iris, I kneel down beside them and stop. Before I reach out to pull away the brown leaves, I imagine the regal purple blooms on top of sturdy stalks swaying in the early breezes of summer. These iris aren’t from catalog bulbs. My dad gave the bulbs to me when he divided the ones in his yard in Tennessee. I’ve had the same bulbs, or derivatives of them, at two houses in Tennessee and three houses in Colorado. They have transplanted as well as I, and they grow ever dearer now that my dad is gone. Sleep well, my friends.

Around the rose bush I rake the smallest leaves I can find, creating nature’s equivalent of flannel sheets and goose down comforter. As the wind picks up, I collect the last of the Columbine and Sweet William leaves and a handful of fading mint. The mint still has a rich aroma, much headier than its summer offering, so I save a few twigs to add to a potpourri inside.

On to another patch of garden. The shriveled cherry tomato plants come up easily, uncovering a feast of sun-dried tomatoes for some yuppie birds to enjoy on their way back to California. The strawberry leaves, now a russet red, are an unexpected find. Having a “Martha Stewart moment,” I collect a few to tie to the top of a loaf of pumpkin bread cooling in the kitchen, leaving the rest as a quilt for the small berry bed.

The ritual complete, I realize how dulling to the senses it must be to live year round in one of those places where the seasons never change; a place where a forecasted temperature of 62 degrees sends everyone scurrying off to find a wool coat. No, I need the seasons.

The lawn bag is closed and tied; the garden gloves and clippers find a home on the shelf in the garage. Let it snow.

(The small grandchild I referenced then was Francesca, now a college graduate living in Ireland where she’s finding wonderful subjects for her photography, like the photo of the red berries above! ©FrancescaMcConnell.com)

Meet Author Norma Gail

November 14, 2014 by Nancy 10 Comments

I’m pleased to introduce my readers to another Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas author, Norma Gail. Her romance novel, Land of My Dreams, may be just what you need to escape the hectic pace this holiday season! I enjoyed reading about her journey as a writer and trust you will too.

How and when did you begin to write?

I began to write after the first time I read Little Women. Jo March seems to have inspired a lot of women to write. I would make up a story and get my younger sisters and the neighborhood kids to play parts I assigned them.

Through junior high through high school, my best friend and I wrote stories and poems, critiquing them for each other. In fact, she helped me many times during the writing of Land of My Dreams. I always wanted to be a published author, but the lure of nursing, marriage, and two children 21 months apart kept me from it until they were grown. I did write adoption stories for both of them which became bedtime favorites, but other than that I did not write for over 20 years.

I began writing poetry again after my dad was killed by lightning, and from that I began to write devotionals for the openings of the Bible study I lead at our church. That grew into weekly devotionals for our church webpage, to a weekly devotional blog, and finally to my dream of writing fiction.

Can you give my readers a short description of Land of My Dreams?

Alone and betrayed, American professor, Bonny Bryant longs for a haven of peace. She accepts a position at a small Christian college in Fort William, Scotland, craving escape from her painful past. The passionate love which develops when she meets fellow professor and sheep farmer, Kieran MacDonell, is something she never anticipated. Kieran harbors a deep anger toward God in the face of his own devastating grief. When Bonny’s former fiancé reenters her life, Kieran’s loneliness draws him to a former student. How will Bonny decide between her rivals? Can they set aside the past to make way for a future, or will it drive them apart? Land of My Dreams spans the distance between New Mexico’s high desert mountains and the misty Scottish Highlands with a timeless story of overwhelming grief, undying love, and compelling faith.

What led you to write it?

After a trip to Scotland in 2006, and a very vivid dream about a Scottish sheep farmer on a misty hillside, the idea began to grow. We met an American from Phoenix who married a Scot and had lived there for many years. Since I am married to a Dutch immigrant, it sparked an idea which grew from there.

When I broke my foot and was confined to a wheelchair for several weeks, unable to drive, I had the time to begin writing and it snowballed from there.

What are you working on now?

My current work in progress is a sequel to Land of My Dreams, entitled Within Golden Bands. It picks up the night after the first book ends and all of the characters make an appearance in the first chapter. I have found it interesting that readers wanted the two antagonists to continue in the book. One person said they were too bad to leave out. After that, I plan a historical series partially based on stories of my own pioneer ancestors in the south and southwest.

Do you have any advice for beginning writers?

Start attending writer’s conferences early on, before you finish your book. Pay for a professional edit before pitching it to anyone. Spend time learning your craft, and if you are so fortunate to have a local Christian writer’s group, get involved. I don’t have that and really wish I did.

If you really desire to be published, don’t let rejections discourage you. Learn from them and keep trying. A teachable attitude will go a long way toward making someone consider your book. If it doesn’t make it with the big publishers try the smaller ones. They are often more open and offer a really special, nurturing relationship to a new writer.

How can my readers find out more about you and your work?

I love connecting with readers! Here are my social media and book links:
www.normagail.org
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorNormaGail
https://plus.google.com/b/102717101441594679714/+Normagail/about/p/pub
http://pinterest.com/normagailth/boards/
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7874459.Norma_Gail
http://www.linkedin.com/pub/norma-gail-thurston-holtman/42/71a/3b2
@Norma_Gail

Book Trailer:

Land of My Dreams is available at:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Land-My-Dreams-Norma-Gail/dp/1941103170/ or
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/land-of-my-dreams-norma-gail/1119606864 ?ean=9781941103173

Thanks, Norma Gail!

Joy Is Where You Find It

October 31, 2014 by Nancy 20 Comments

I was sitting in my doctor’s office waiting to be called in for a flu shot when I saw them enter: a man about my age and his quite elderly mother. He walked slowly, keeping cadence with her pace. She leaned over her walker and shuffled toward the check-in desk.

“My mom is here for her 11:00 appointment,” said the son, giving his mother’s name.

“Has she been in Africa in the last 21 days?” the receptionist asked in all seriousness.

The man looked over at his fragile mother, then back at the receptionist. “Well, I don’t think so, but I guess I should ask her,” he replied. He turned toward his mother and said in a voice loud enough for her and everyone in the waiting room to hear, “Mom, have you been in Africa in the last 21 days?”

From my perspective I couldn’t see the elderly woman’s face, but I could see her frail shoulders bouncing up and down as she chuckled to herself. “No,” she said, and as she turned to move toward a chair in the waiting room I could see the amusement in her eyes still. What a sweet moment the two of them shared. What unexpected joy was found in what was no doubt an appointment neither particularly wanted to keep. The receptionist was just following office procedure during this recent Ebola scare, and didn’t know she’d brightened the day of everyone within hearing distance in the process—especially the day of the elderly patient.

As soon as the man and his mom had come through the door, my heart had gone out to them. It’s impossible for me to see someone helping an elder they love without remembering such days with my mother-in-law and my mom, both now in heaven. Oh, how I prayed I could get my mom-in-law into Wendy’s for the cheeseburger and Frosty she craved without her falling. She planned morning doctor appointments so we could indulge ourselves at Wendy’s afterwards. I didn’t want her to fall on my watch.

My mom remained fairly mobile until near the end of her life, but I remember how cautiously I drove whenever I had her in the car, and how I insisted she wear her seatbelt—an invention she never appreciated fully.

But there was joy in those times, too. How I wish I could take Mary Frances for a Frosty, or Mom for a ride, one more time.

I was called in for my shot. Leaving the doctor’s office a few minutes later I walked by the chairs where the man and his mother were still waiting. The three of us shared a smile, and the knowledge that loving is always worth the price. Especially on days when a little unexpected joy comes your way.

Blogger’s Block

October 20, 2014 by Nancy Leave a Comment

The photo says it all. Beau and I have both been staring at the computer screen for some time now, but no blog posts have magically appeared. Writing coaches always say the best way to break through writer’s block is just to begin writing. Begin scribbling. Begin doodling. Just begin! So with that in mind I decided to begin blogging about the fact that I seem to have blogger’s block.

Yet I do so with hesitation. You and I both know that there is a lot of blathering going on out there under the guise of blogging. I don’t want to send another useless blog into the blogosphere to add to the glut in existence. Yet I feel I owe it to my faithful subscribers to offer up something. So here it is.

How, you may wonder, could I let all of September and half of October go by without blogging? We’ve had a glorious fall here in Colorado with golden-baked days, blue skies, cool nights, and the prettiest, most awe-inspiring Aspen season in recent memory, yet none of this beauty inspired a blog. During September we traveled to the South to see precious family members and overnighted in Vail with dear friends, yet no blogs were born.

Maybe the reason for my blogger’s block is that I seem to be in a state of suspension right now. Our house is on the market as we attempt to “right size” but hasn’t sold yet. My next book, Take My Hand Again, is at the publisher but hasn’t released yet. I’ve had some success on the Paleo diet but haven’t reached my goal yet.

Still, through all the “not yets,” I wait with a sense of wonder and heightened expectation. That’s because I’m also seasoned enough to know that when we feel blocked, or stifled, or stuck in a holding pattern, it may be because God is intent on getting our attention. In this “not yet” season of my life, He gently whispers, “It will all happen in my time. You do trust me, right? Rest in me.”

I do trust Him and His timing in my life. And so I will continue to look out the windows of the home I’ve loved for 25 years and be blessed by the golden trees, the mountains, the cityscape, the sunrises and sunsets. I’ll continue to enjoy cozy dinners and watching football games with my husband, and cuddling my cats during morning quiet times.

And I’ll continue to be grateful for the mystery of the creative process, however it torments me, and for the readers who connect with me whenever I find something worthwhile to say. Thank you for understanding while I wait for the inspiration to blog to return. Don’t worry. There’s joy in the waiting!

Just Start

August 25, 2014 by Nancy 14 Comments

When my son Tim gave me a copy of Jon Acuff’s book Start I thought the subject might have come a bit late for me, but I was wrong! I just finished the book and it’s full of motivating advice for Boomers like my husband and me who are launching Act 3 of our lives.

I also saw application for elders we all know and love. Even people in their 80s and 90s can “punch fear in the face, escape average, and do work that matters” as this author urges. With thanks to Jon Acuff (who also wrote the wildly popular, humorous book Stuff Christians Like) here’s some motivation for us all.

At any age each of us can stop living an average life and start living an awesome one. Acuff says that to get to awesome there are two questions we should ask ourselves: “If I died today, what would I regret not doing?” and “Are those the things I’m doing right now?” Younger people might have feats like running a marathon or going to medical school on the list of things they would regret not doing, but our seniors may list things like, “Call my sister in Idaho and have a nice long chat,” or “Take a walk around the block each day.” The point is to stop thinking about what you wish you were doing and begin doing it—one small step at a time.

Moving from average to awesome takes us through several stages according to Acuff. First we learn about the things that interest us, then we edit down to just what we are most passionate about. The third stage is to master one or more of our passions. Then we begin to see the fruits of our efforts; we begin to harvest. Finally, in the awesome life, one gets to the stage of guiding or mentoring others. But that’s not the time to rest on your laurels. Oh no. Once you get to guiding, then you simply start again!

When I think of the older adults I know and love, I wonder if they fully realize how much they have mastered, and how valuable and helpful it would be for them to enthusiastically share their harvest and guide others. Even if it’s how to make a pie crust or when to plant spring crops, every older person has something to share. When we encourage them to do so, we will watch them change from average to awesome right before our eyes.

Did your mother immigrate to this country as a child? Did your dad serve in World War II? Help them tell their stories to a group of school children and share some living history. Do you know an older woman who might be willing to teach someone how to crochet? The opportunities for “awesomeness” are limitless.

As longevity increases, news reports are replete with stories of people in their 90s and beyond who take their first motorcycle ride, go skydiving, or take a long anticipated vacation. But it doesn’t have to be something so dramatic to move older adults from average to awesome. Listen to what matters most to the elders you love, and help them find a way to move closer to living an awesome life. It’s never too late to start.