Back Porch Break & Take My Hand Again Blog Posts

Pet Chronicles

August 29, 2016 by Nancy 20 Comments

How we love our pets. I don’t know if it was the expression on my face or the tears welling up in my eyes that tipped off the total stranger sitting in the waiting room with her dog. I just know that as I was leaving the vet’s office after dropping off my cat Beau for surgery, she leaped up to give me a hug, and soon I was crying on her shoulder sobbing, “It’s just so hard to leave him here.”

Beau had a gross looking sore on one of his hind feet. The vet wisely decided the best plan of action was to amputate his toe and send the whole mess to the lab for evaluation. The test came back positive for a low grade cancer, so taking the toe was the right decision and gives him a good chance at survival. Still, as I dropped him off that morning you would have thought I was the one having an amputation.

My concern for Beau started me thinking about all the pets I have loved in my lifetime. I remember each one so clearly because each one still occupies a place in my heart. You, too?

The first dog I can remember was a brown and white spotted, mid-sized mutt named Sally. She had the brightest brown eyes, the pinkest tongue, and the curliest tail you’ll ever see—and I loved her so much. Sally was just one more of the playmates my sisters and I had when we played hopscotch or jumped rope. She was always with us and always up for a romp. Over the years we also had a collie named Prince, a cocker named Prissy, and a cat named Cocomo. How I remember each one.

As a newlywed in the sixties my first “baby” was a miniature dachshund named Sebastian. This is the dog I dressed up in baby clothes while awaiting the birth of my first son because he weighed seven pounds and I thought I could practice on him! He’s also the dog that was so jealous once the baby came that he lifted his leg all around the bottom of the changing-table skirt I had painstakingly made. In so many ways Sebastian was just too smart to be a dog, but he was funny and affectionate and my heart still leaps whenever I see a mini-dachshund.

Two more dogs followed. Gorgeous light golden retrievers named Lady and Lad. Lad was Lady’s puppy. She gave birth to 11 puppies, but I was on the phone with the vet after 10 had been born and he told me to bring her in for a check-up. I called her and she obeyed, dropping puppy number eleven out on his head.

I have a feeling that was Lad, because as one vet said, “He’s about as bright as a billiard ball!” Lady was brighter, however, and both dogs were loyal and lovable. They were my jogging partners during a difficult time in my life. After Lady and Lad, I haven’t had the heart to get another dog. The holes they left just seem too large to fill.

Naively, I thought cats might be less of an emotional investment. Wrong. My son Tim convinced me to adopt a calico cat we named Callie. Next we adopted two kittens I named Kate and Allie after my favorite TV sitcom at the time. After a trip to the vet, we had to change Allie’s name to Al because she was a he! When Kate escaped one night and didn’t make it home, she was replaced by Betsy—a calico barn cat whose meow was stuck in her throat. We had Al and Betsy for 14 years and losing them was heartbreaking.

So it took almost a year before we adopted Molly, a sweet grayish cat we’ve had for 12 years now. I read an article that said a single cat might become depressed, so a few months later we adopted Beau. That’s when Molly really became depressed! Unlike Al and Betsy who curled up together daily, these two cats barely tolerate one another, but both are wonderful companions.

I think we grieve the loss of our pets so deeply when they go because they are so much a part of our daily lives. They need us, and we need them. In fact, I can’t imagine my life without a clever, comforting, entertaining cat in it. One adage reads, “Every life has nine cats.” Husband beware. It looks like I’m only up to seven. Two more to go to secure my crazy cat lady status!

I give myself permission to love my pets as I do because they, too, are God’s creatures given to us to care for and enjoy. Psalm 36:6 says, O Lord, you preserve both man and beast. Psalm 150:6 reads, Let everything that has breath praise the Lord. Our pets have breath. Dare we believe they also have souls and will greet us in heaven? Theologians may disagree, but I’ll just wait and see. Meanwhile, I’ll just love on the two I have. Or do they have me?

In the Company of Goats

July 18, 2016 by Nancy 10 Comments

I can’t think of a more exhilarating way to spend a warm summer’s day than in the company of goats. Until recently my only experience with a goat was as a child. For a while my family had a goat we unimaginatively named Billy. I think he was on loan from a larger farm as my father liked to expose my sisters and me to different animals. We thought Billy was entertaining and fun, but after he ate 12 blooms off my mother’s prized geranium plant, he was sent packing!

Recently I met many more goats when I took “The Goat Cheese Making Class” from The Goat Cheese Lady, Lindsey Aparicio, at her family’s farm in Penrose, CO (www.thegoatcheeselady.com). Not only did my three friends and I learn how to make three varieties of goat cheese, we used the milk we had milked from the goats that morning! We also learned all about the goats and the workings of the farm, then enjoyed a wonderful brunch that included the bread and goat cheese we made ourselves, the eggs we collected from the hens, and a fresh green salad. Gourmet chefs eat your hearts out. This simple, homemade repast was one of the best meals any of us ever had!

Memories of the day are all sprinkled with sun, laughter, and the gentle bleatings of goats of all sizes. Did I mention we got to help herd a bunch of young goats from their pen to an open pasture? Hilarious. Driving home I realized there is much to be learned by spending a day in the company of goats.

First, be willing to greet people you don’t know yet. The gentle calls of the goats when we first got out of our car began the relationships that became much more intimate when we learned to coax milk from their udders. I won’t say we became bosom buddies, but we sure got closer!

Second, know who to trust and then trust completely. When we were milking the goats, Lindsey cautiously held their back legs because our hands were strange to them and they might react and step in the milk. But when Lindsey or her son André were milking the goats, they totally relaxed. They knew who to trust.

Third, remember that giving and receiving are intrinsically connected. As the female goats willingly gave their life-giving milk they got sweet feed to munch. They also enjoyed the relief that came from being milked, as any lactating mom will attest. Giving and receiving. Both are blessings.

And lastly, if a gate opens, run through it! My friends and I were a bit tired at the end of the day. After all, herding goats wasn’t a normal daily activity for any of us. But we were so glad we had leapt at the opportunity. Just like those darling and daring baby goats.

Defying Description

June 28, 2016 by Nancy 24 Comments

Me in junior high with my prize-winning rabbit, Queenie. — Me in junior high with Queenie, my prize-winning rabbit.

Every time I open up Facebook I’m asked to do something I don’t seem to be able to do. In an attempt to update my profile, Facebook asks me to: Describe Who You Are.

You may think that would be easy to do, but then maybe you haven’t lived over six decades like I have. What is it, exactly, that they expect me to say to describe me? What are they hoping I’ll include? What categories of knowledge or personality traits? What accomplishments or failures? What labels that I’ve collected over the years, like so many stickers on an old suitcase, would satisfy this request?

I could have answered it easily in elementary school. I might have written, “I’m a little girl in Tennessee who loves to play barefooted in the summer and to ride her horse, Dolly, bareback.”

I could have answered it in junior high: “I’m a basketball player and I raise rabbits and show them at the state fair.”

I could have answered it in senior high: “I’m a cheerleader and editor of the yearbook. I like boys!”

Then it gets more complicated. In my twenties I could have written: “I’m a college graduate with degrees in journalism and English education, and the stay-at-home mother of two little boys. I’m an Army wife.”

In my thirties it would change to: “I’m a divorced mother of two boys and fulltime writer for a large corporation.”

In my forties I could have reported: “I’m a happily remarried mother of two, stepmother of two, and corporate manager spending long hours at the office.”

In my fifties I might have said: “I’m a freelance writer and published author and my grandkids call me Grancy.”

But what about now? How do I succinctly describe who I am in my sixties, and who at Facebook cares anyway? Are they going to write me back and say: “That doesn’t sound like you.” Or maybe, “Be more specific please.” I doubt it.

And so I leave the request unsatisfied still. If I wrote anything to sum up my life to this point, it would have to be: “I am a redeemed child of God. A daughter of the most high King. I am blessed beyond belief, and I am eternally grateful.” I guess I can live with that description today and forever—whether I share it with Facebook or not.

What about you? Have you fulfilled this Facebook request? How did you describe YOU?

Graduations and Weddings, Oh My!

May 10, 2016 by Nancy 18 Comments

May and June are traditionally the months when families gather for graduations and weddings, and never has this been truer for our family than this year! We have four graduations and a wedding within just a few weeks. As the plans begin to come together I’m reminded once again of the similarities between these two celebrations.

When a large family is involved, both graduations and weddings can be a logistical challenge. Who can come and who can’t? Where will everyone stay? What transportation is needed and who can provide it? And then the always unanswerable, but ever-present question: will the weather cooperate? What’s the backup plan for outdoor ceremonies or celebrations?

There are 21 people in our immediate blended family. Three granddaughters are graduating from high school this year—and one granddaughter is graduating from college and getting married! As all the flight and hotel reservations are being made, the gifts selected, and the parties planned, I keep seeing the faces of these four dear honorees—not as they are now, as proud graduate or beaming bride—but as they were as toddlers and little girls.

I was privileged to go with my granddaughter Amanda to try on her wedding dress for the first time. Seated in the “salon” area of the bridal shop while the assistant helped her into her dress in the fitting room, I wondered if I would cry when I first saw her. I knew I was supposed to cry. I’d seen that in the movies and commercials again and again. But what if I didn’t? She’d be disappointed, wouldn’t she?

Then she stepped into the room looking absolutely radiant–with the same excited smile on her face that I remembered from when she was four and twirling around in her latest “play dress up” outfit in our living room. The tears naturally flowed.

So what do all these honorees have in common? A sense of accomplishment. A bit of apprehension as they move into an unknown future. And hopefully parents and grandparents searching for a tissue during “Pomp & Circumstance” or “Here Comes the Bride”–and trying to remember how to switch their smart phones from still photos to video.

If we can give our graduates, brides, and grooms anything this season, may it be the reassurance that plans may change, dreams may take a different shape, blessings may come in disguise, but love is forever. The love of parents, grandparents, siblings and starry-eyed new spouses. It’s the love that makes the celebrations worth having. It’s the love that makes the memories.

In Memory of a Whole Life

April 11, 2016 by Nancy 20 Comments

Volunteering in an assisted living community means you go to a lot of memorial services and funerals. It’s not that you enjoy going, it’s just that you can’t stay away because your life was somehow enriched by the person who passed away, and you want to both honor and learn more about him or her.

That’s what drew me to an afternoon service for Penny, an assisted living resident who faithfully attended my weekly Bible study for over five years. I didn’t know her family so I just quietly entered and found a seat. Soon a very elderly couple, both with canes, made their way to my row and sat next to me. In almost whispered tones the woman and I struck up a conversation, and she told me that she and Penny had worked together in the Physics Department at the U.S. Air Force Academy for 20 years. I had no idea Penny had that sort of career.

What I did know of Penny was that whenever I found her lying on her bed watching TV or reading a book and I asked, “Do you want to come to Bible study?” she would say, “Sure!” and hop up to come with me. I knew that no matter what question I asked in class, her response would be the same: “I raised five kids, and I couldn’t have done it without Jesus.”

As people were gathering I noticed five well-dressed, attractive, middle-aged adults receiving hugs and condolences. Oh sure, I thought to myself, the five kids. My gaze turned to the table in front of the room where a few stunning photos of Penny in her younger years were displayed between bouquets of flowers. In the most prominent position was a glass of ice and a small bottle of wine. I was curious, but it wasn’t until Penny’s niece delivered the eulogy later in the service that I learned the significance of this unusual display.

Evidently white zinfandel over ice was Penny’s celebration drink of choice, and that was just the beginning of what I didn’t know about her! I didn’t know she was born and reared in El Paso, Texas, in a small house bursting with people and love. I didn’t know she’d survived a difficult marriage. (“He was a real louse,” my seatmate leaned over and whispered.) I didn’t know just how much she loved books and movies. And I certainly didn’t know that while living in Cripple Creek, CO, for a while she had commuted to her job in Colorado Springs in a big Cadillac with longhorns attached!

The service closed with a slideshow of images of Penny through the years. Oh my goodness—the meals she served, the people she hugged, the babies she rocked, the outfits she wore! I could see why her niece said of her, “She gave us all unconditional love before it was a term.” And, “She was a hippie before it was a thing!”

Toward the end of the collection of photos was a picture of Penny in a purple sweater. I knew that sweater. She had it with her in assisted living. Here’s where I came in, I thought, as I dabbed my eyes for the fourth or fifth time.

Walking to my car after the service, a favorite adage kept playing in my mind: Don’t judge my story by the chapter you walked in on. None of us wants to do that to an older person we meet, but circumstances can make it difficult to discover the whole person. When I got in the car I broke into sobs thinking, Penny, I barely knew you.

And so I bring you more of Penny’s story—because her whole life is worth remembering, not just the chapter I walked in on.

The Easter Cactus

March 23, 2016 by Nancy 14 Comments

My Christmas cactus is blooming for Easter this year! The botanical explanation may be that we moved to a new house and it’s reacting to different light exposure. But a more sacred reason comes to mind whenever I gaze its way.

How appropriate that a Christmas cactus would bloom at Easter to remind us that the two holy celebrations are intrinsically connected…inseparable in fact. For Christians, Christmas and Easter only exist because of Jesus Christ, the Son of God who dwelled among us. Had He not come to earth, we would have no resurrection to celebrate. Had He not given Himself to die on the cross, we would have no reason to acknowledge His arrival. Without Easter, Christmas is just a materialistic season of overspending and overeating. Without Christmas, Easter is just an extravagant brunch with a lot of candy and brightly colored eggs. One loses all meaning without the other.

Is there value in gathering together with friends and family over the Christmas season to exchange gifts and restore relationships? Of course there is. Is there value in rejoicing in the arrival of spring and celebrating all that’s fresh and new with fluffy chicks and rabbits? Of course there is.

Anyone who knows me knows that I love to decorate for Christmas. I also love rabbits, and have decorative ones all over my house at Easter time. The danger is in letting all the trappings of either holiday obscure the message that can transform us not twice a year, but each day and forever.

Nowhere is that message more clearly stated than in God’s Word and by Jesus Himself. In John 3:16-17 Jesus taught, “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.”

Always clear about His mission, Jesus comforted his grieving friend Martha by saying, “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies, and whoever lies and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?” (John 11:25-26)

He was sent in love. He died in love. He was resurrected and lives forever. And because He lives, so do those who believe in Him. It’s as simple as that. Jesus Christ always was and always will be. Christmas and Easter are merely the bookends of His sinless earthly life, but to celebrate one without the other makes no sense at all.

My Christmas cactus is so grateful for life that it just had to bloom this Easter! May the same be said of us. Have a joyful Easter—and look for opportunities to bloom!

Welcome, Fickle Spring!

March 12, 2016 by Nancy 15 Comments

Let’s face it. Spring is as fickle as a junior high girlfriend. With other seasons you pretty much know what to expect. Stereotypically, summer will be warm and sunny. Fall will be golden and cool. Winter will be frigid and blustery. But spring? She’s just unpredictable and flighty.

Of course the characterization of spring depends on where you live in this geographically diverse country of ours. When I was a coed at the University of Tennessee in Knoxville, at the first hint of spring in March my friends and I donned last summer’s swimsuits and went up on the roof of the dorm to get started on our suntans. We applied copious amounts of iodine and baby oil and put sheets of aluminum foil under our chins to reflect the rays. (This tanning strategy is why most dermatologist offices are now populated with aging Baby Boomers dealing with the consequences of such spring folly!)

Now that I live in Colorado, I’m used to March being the month when we see our biggest accumulations of snow. Yet this month can unexpectedly throw in a day so warm and sunny that the college coeds of today go skiing in their bikinis! (And spring skiing is simply the best.)

We don’t expect spring to settle in and sustain herself in April around here either. My husband’s birthday is April 30, and I have more than one photo of him shoveling snow on his birthday. But by then hearty crocuses, tulips, and daffodils have begun to break through the ground and amazingly seem to survive the occasional blanket of snow. This is the month spring toys with our emotions until she’s ready to reveal herself in all her glory in May.

Of course I’m not the first writer to note spring’s whimsical nature and inconsistency. Odes and tips of the pen to spring from well-known poets like Keats, Dickinson and Tennyson are replete with observations about both the beauty and the capriciousness of the season. However, perhaps no poem speaks to spring’s determination to tease us as well as this little preschool rhyme:

Some days seem like winter,
Some are nice and warm.
Rainy days and windy days,
Maybe it will storm.
Warm or cold or wet or dry,
What will the weather be?
I think Spring is trying to play
Peek-a-boo with me!

However long spring dallies with your emotions this year, find joy in the gentle rains, the bird songs, the warm breezes, the green sprouts, the resilient blossoms, and yes, even the moist snow. Take the advice of fashion designer Lilly Pulitzer who said, “Despite the forecast, live like it’s spring.”

I Love Your Face

February 12, 2016 by Nancy 18 Comments

I was recently reminded of this favorite post and thought it would be a good reminder to think about all the faces we love this Valentine’s Day! Our grandson Peter, 3, was being buckled into his car seat by his mom, Abigail, when he suddenly said, “Mom, I love your face.” The full breadth and depth of his heartfelt sentiment might have been: “You’re a wonderful mother and I’m so glad you’re mine. I love you.” But the three-year-old translation was, “I love your face.”

After smiling about this “grandparent pleaser” for awhile I realized there’s a deeper meaning there. Haven’t we all felt like Peter did at some point or another, whether we expressed it or not? We all know the thrill of running into someone we truly like, even love, but don’t see nearly often enough. We see their faces and immediately our heart leaps as our mind travels through all the memories we share. Whether it’s an old friend, a favorite teacher, or a former work colleague, it’s a treat to see them again. We may say, “You’re a sight for sore eyes!” But we really mean, “I love your face.”

Faces help us connect with those we don’t know as well also. Once I saw someone in the grocery store that I knew I recognized, but I didn’t know why I knew her. Adding to my confusion was that I immediately associated her with pain and sadness. Finally, the third time our carts crossed paths, I ventured, “I feel like I know you from someplace.” She said she felt the same way, and we began questioning one another until I realized she had been the kindest of the aides who attended my mother-in-law in assisted living before she passed away. I remembered her face because of her kindness, but I associated her with pain because it was such a difficult time for us. “God bless you,” she said as we parted, and I was glad our faces had helped us reconnect.

It’s through the faces of those we love that we get the best read on how they truly are. Just one look at your spouse’s face at the end of the day and you know how trying or victorious the day has been. And whether it’s the two-year-old ready to throw a tantrum, or the teenager thinking about a question he hopes you won’t ask—it’s all written on their faces.

The older I get, the dearer the faces I love are to me. It’s a shock to go to a high school reunion and observe that the faces I remember have gotten so old. Yet to drastically alter our faces in the losing battle against aging is to rob those who care about us of a face they love!

I hope I’ll have the courage to let my face age naturally until that day when I will see the Lord’s face “like the sun shining in all its brilliance” (Revelation 1:16). When I do, I feel sure I will tell Him, “I love your face.”

“Clarity” for 2016

January 20, 2016 by Nancy 14 Comments

Sometimes you choose a word; sometimes a word chooses you. Several people I admire have announced a “one-word theme” for 2016. Words like strength, inspiration, courage. Yet I didn’t think I had a word for this year. Then it descended upon me like the dove that lands on my neighbor’s roof early each morning. Clarity. My word is clarity.

Now that I know my word, however, I have to admit that I’m not clear what it means or why it’s to be my word for the year! It’s possible it will take me all year to unpack it fully. Yet a few applications are evident.

I do want clarity in my work life. The last two books I’ve written, The Hope of Glory and Take My Hand Again, have received positive, heartfelt reviews from people who have read them. I know they could be encouraging many more people to navigate old age gracefully, or to help aging parents face the future with hope and optimism. And so I pray for clarity about how to reach more readers.

I want clarity in my relationships. At 68, I can no longer think of myself as middle-aged. I have yet to meet anyone 136. I want to look at the relationships that mean the most to me with renewed clarity and to never take a single one of them for granted. Have I told the people I love how much I love them? Have I clearly told my friends how much they have contributed to my life? Have I cleared up any misunderstandings and asked for forgiveness if necessary? If not, this is the year for such clarity.

I want clarity in my spiritual walk. Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known” (1 Cor. 13:12 KJV). I know I won’t have perfect clarity about all things spiritual until I see the Lord face to face, but through prayer, studying the Word, and the fellowship of believers, I hope to wipe away a bit more of the fog this year. Psalm 119:105 has always been an encouraging verse for me. It reads: “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.” I trust that if I stay in this light I will clearly see where to place my foot next on my spiritual journey.

Where else will a focus on the word clarity take me this year? Clarity about what eating plan to follow or where to exercise? Time will tell. For now it’s written in capital letters on a sticky note stuck to the bookshelf above my computer. Clearly, it’s a start.

All the best to all of you as you seek to discern what the New Year has to offer. I’d love to hear your one-word theme if you have one. Happy 2016!

Looking Back…Briefly

December 30, 2015 by Nancy 12 Comments

A funny thing happened at my church last Sunday. A computer glitch prevented the words from the praise songs to appear on the screen in front of the worship center, so everyone in the congregation turned to read the words on the screen on the back wall. The screen usually seen only by the worship team.

I had slipped into the restroom just before the service, so imagine my surprise when I came in a back door to find that the whole congregation was facing backward…and seeing me walk in! Families arriving late who thought they were sneaking into the back of the church were similarly surprised.

We all had a good laugh about the computer glitch and the creative solution, but later I thought, “What an appropriate way to worship God on the last Sunday of the year: looking back with praise to Him for all He did and all He brought us through.”

The challenge is to look back this time of year without getting stuck in the past. We need to look back to remember the good and the bad, and the way our lives were protected and directed by God. We need to look back to decide what, if anything, is worth carrying with us into the next year. What relationships, what goals, what challenges? But then it’s time to turn all the way around, face the future, and move into the new year with confidence that He who got us this far won’t abandon us now.

Sometimes we know what the next year will bring. Graduations are on the books. Plans for a June wedding are in place. A move or a new job is in the wind. An elective surgery is scheduled. A vacation deposit is made. But more often we aren’t sure what will happen between the sunrises and sunsets of the days that make up the year to come.

So much uncertainty can be unsettling. Then we remember that God said, “I the Lord do not change” (Malachi 3:6). And so we trust. We turn to face the new year head on, full of confidence and belief not in ourselves, but in the One who loves us, holds our days in His hands, and promises us eternal life through faith in His Son, Jesus Christ.

May God bless and keep you in 2016. Happy New Year!