Powerless

I feel like I am a lifetime away from the Quinta do Silval…and all that happened there in the Vale de Mendiz.  I am safely sitting on a balcony in Castelo Branco, “White Castle”, Portugal.  We are in a beautiful hotel and I am on the balcony, looking out in the distance at the hills and mountains that are surrounding my view.  Portugal is a patchwork quilt of green and brown and tan. I look out at the beautiful views and I am amazed at the beauty created by God and nature combined with the handiwork of man as I see the white buildings, the red tile roofs and the roadways that wind through the mountains…and it is just beautiful…a beautiful woven piece of art.  We hardly notice it on our day-to-day journey up close, but from a distance we can see the beautiful tapestry  
of the scenery and being on vacation we see from a distance what our life has become. It’s a time of reflection.

A short few days ago we headed out from our lovely room at a residence up in the mountains of Portugal, Quinta do Silval.  A quinta is a Portuguese winery where they grow grapes that are used to make port wine.  We were planning to spend the day in Porto, a city on the coast of Portugal, where port wine is collected and shipped all around the world.  It’s where the Douro River meets the sea.  It’s a beautiful city and we had a wonderful day visiting the city.  We had a lovely dinner along the riverside, a short trip up the river in a boat to see the 6 amazing bridges. Portugal does seem to have an edge on the engineering of amazing bridges and roadways through the mountains!  We tasted some delicious port wine at two different “Quintas”, delicious and sweet.





Our drive back to our hotel at the Quinta was completely uneventful or so it seemed.  We were getting closer to the area we knew was near the hotel and I had turned on the GPS to help us navigate back to our beautiful place.  The girl on the GPS cheerfully said, “You will arrive at 8:15 PM, you are on the shortest route!”

“Okay!” I thought, “Let’s Go!”

So we headed toward a town we had not been through before, Sabrosa.  I was pretty sure we would intersect with another highway we were familiar with, but oh, how wrong was I!

We proceeded to follow the route.  The road began to become narrower and narrower.  The town of Sabrosa was a mere 2 or 3 houses and a bar.  There were tables and chairs set up in the road for the bar as it was a beautiful evening and locals were outside enjoying a drink.  The servers moved the chairs and tables out of the way so we could pass. 

My husband said to me, “Are you sure we’re going the right way?”

“I think so… that’s what the phone says…”

So we proceeded.  The road we were on appeared to be disappearing even as we drove along it.  The GPS girl maintained her positive attitude, however, as she enthusiastically told us, “Turn left…turn left!  Sharp turn to the left!”

All the while we were slowly going down the mountain on what appeared to be farm roads used only by tractors tending to the vineyard.  We slowly traveled downward on one particularly rough cobblestone road that seemed to be heading straight DOWN.

As we approached the bottom of what appeared to be the end of the road, the friendly GPS blurted, “Make a sharp left!”

We were literally in the middle of nowhere.  Dusk had settled in and it was so hard to see.  The road ahead of us seemed to drop off of the mountain and the road to the left (sharp left) was a severe steep “trail” leading nowhere.

Suddenly my husband stopped the car and announced,

“I’m done.”

“What do you mean, you’re done?”

“I can’t do this!” he said, defeated.

I suddenly felt those creepy fingers of anxiety crawl up my spine and grab my heart.

“What do you mean, exactly?”

“I can’t DO it!  We’re stuck!”

My strong reasonable and constantly reliable husband was frozen with fear.

“What do you think we should do? Can’t we just keep going? The GPS says we should be at our destination in only 8 minutes.”

“I’m DONE!  You need to call the hotel and have them come and get us!  Call the police! I AM DONE!”

In a bit of a panic, myself, I comply not knowing exactly what to say the people at the hotel, because I have no idea where we are exactly…”Yeah, we’re stuck on the mountain in the valley someplace? I don’t know exactly? What should we do?” Not to mention, I don’t speak Portuguese either. 

NO ANSWER at the hotel.  No idea how to call the police either. PANIC.

But I KNEW…I felt that strong deep sense of honesty in my soul…the only way we could get out of this valley was to PUSH forward, little by little.  I knew it in my heart even as I felt the complete TERROR of the fear my husband was experiencing.

So I said I was getting out of the car to see exactly how steep it was and what the road looked like.  It didn’t look good.  But I said to him calmly, “We have to keep going.”

By now it was completely dark, and I mean DARK.  There are no streetlights in the Vale de Mendiz. We are between two mountains on a tiny cobblestone road, dare I say, path?  Both of us are riddled with anxiety and fear of the unknown.  I say calmly, hoping Doug takes this well…

“We can’t just stay here all night.  Don’t you think it would be better to just continue on slowly, carefully and see where we end up?  I’ll drive if you can’t do this.  I think it’s our only solution…move forward slowly.”

I’m sure it was my offer to drive that did the trick.  He wasn’t about to let me practice driving a stick shift down a 45-degree incline in the dark on a mountain.  So we got back into the car and headed down slowly…inch by inch…almost step-by-step into the sea of darkness all around us. 

We moved forward painfully slowly, turning at each turn, following the cheery voice of the GPS…”Turn right, turn left.”  Bumpy cobblestone roads and the gravel under our tires were the only sounds we heard as we proceeded forward carefully, cautiously.

Suddenly we finally hit a stretch of smooth pavement, a REAL road!

“Sigh…”

Both of us let a large amount of air out of our lungs…we didn’t realize we’d been holding our breaths.  Even though the pavement was smooth, we still had a ways to go.  Slowly and cautiously we inched our way through a town called Vale de Mendiz, then the road began heading uphill…out of the valley.  We began to feel a bit better, hopeful at last that we were making some headway.

I said a quick prayer silently, of thankfulness.  The GPS was correct after all.

Doug wasn’t so kind to the GPS.  He blamed the whole fiasco on the GPS. In fact, after the ordeal was over and we were safely back in our hotel, with no visible signs of injury, just emotional fatigue and a need for a glass of wine and a few deep breaths, he typed out a text to our children saying that the GPS nearly killed us on a mountain in Portugal.   Needless to say, they were all concerned and responded with many questions. So I grabbed his phone and typed them a message to reassure them.

“Everything is fine, GPS knew exactly where we were every single minute!”

The weird thing was, the phone auto corrected “GPS” to “GOD”.  So the message they received was,

“Everything is fine, GOD knew exactly where we were every single minute!”

And I believe that He did!  I don’t think we were ever in any incredible danger, but FEAR can paralyze you and prevent you from moving ahead.  We needed to move on anyway.  I believe GOD was there, pushing us forward.

Doug says to remind him if he ever gets “stuck” again, all I will have to say is, “Vale de Mendiz!”

The very next day as we drove past the mountains in which we felt we were lost, we could see how each road carefully turned on brought us safely down to the lowest point of the valley and then, gently and carefully lifted us back out.  The roads form a kind of zigzag through it all crisscrossing across the mountains.  It was breathtaking to see how it looks during the day with full sun.  It is beautiful.  You can see each turn and slope for what it is.

















In the dark, it all feels so different.  You can’t see where you are, where you’ve been or where you’re headed…it’s dark, scary and uncertain.
In the light, you see, you choose which way to go because you SEE.
In the dark you must learn to trust the path before you, knowing it is laid out for you in some sort of master plan.  TRUST.

This is a very important and mind blowing idea. The path is there in the light or in the darkness.  Sometimes, most all times, we just need to keep pushing forward.

“God is light, in Him there is no darkness at all.”-  John 1:1

Flow

I woke up again with a cry and my heart palpitating and blood rushing through my veins…

”Honey…it’s okay.  You’re fine.  It was only a dream.” My husband reassured me.

It’s the same dream…but different circumstances each time.  I’m reaching for something very important to me, but somehow it’s out of reach. It eludes me and it’s gone…whatever it is that seems so important in the dream, and often I can’t even remember it…it’s gone…into the abyss of nightmares and unanswered prayers.

I awake unsettled after these dreams.  It’s as if I’ve experienced a great loss.  I struggle to return to sleep then, but try anyway saying a brief prayer…

“Lord, I know you’ve got me covered.  You’re with me. The sun will come up tomorrow and I will face a new day with joy.”

I’m not sure what the dream means for me. I suppose the subconscious speaks to us in dreams. But I’m not sure.

I realize when I’m fully awake that I’ve had and am still going through a series of enormous life changes. When our first grandchild was born, I’d set my heart and mind on finding a way to be closer to him and his family.  I wanted so much to be an involved grandma and I missed so much in his first few years because we lived about 3 hours away in another city.  I was determined to find a home nearer to my daughter and her family so that we could enjoy the grandkids and be a part of their lives on a daily basis.

I retired 3 years ago from a very fulfilling and engaging career as a teacher.  I loved my job and the children that made each day worth getting up for. I suppose that’s a loss, in a way.  In some ways, it’s a good loss.  I used to dream about the time I would have to sew, write, exercise and volunteer…I couldn’t wait to be able to travel and enjoy the golden years with my husband.

I wasn’t prepared for the sense of loss that I would feel.

We found a beautiful home on a wooded lot, with lake views in a small town near my daughter.  We put in an offer on the house and after several months of negotiations and ups and downs due to a short sale, the house was ours!

So much of that first summer, I spent alone working tirelessly to prepare the house to move into while my husband stayed in Chicago, working. I felt lonely.

We had a dream, but this separation became my new reality.

My mother in law, who had been very ill, passed away just two weeks before the birth of my 4^th grandchild. We physically moved a couple of months later, leaving our home of 20 years behind. My husband tried, but could not find work he wanted to do here, in our new place. My father in law fell and broke his hip and was placed in a nursing home/rehab facility. Back and forth to visit, take care of him. He passed away only 8 months after his wife died, alone, in a nursing home.

Lots of grief, memories, processing and sadness filled our days.

Even though we were trying to get excited about our new place, it still just didn’t feel like home.

Our son came to Chicago to work on his master’s degree.  We offered to let him live in our old house while he attended grad school.  We visit often, but it’s weird to have someone living in your former home…making it their own. No longer ours.  There have been many adjustments.

So I set out to get involved in our new area.  Here is a list of things I’ve tried to get more involved. I’ve enjoyed each one, and continue to do so,  but still haven’t felt a real sense of belonging.

Volunteering

Writing classes

Sewing for a non-profit organization, making wedding gowns into burial gowns.

Visiting many churches

Babysitting grandchildren

Substitute teaching

Still, after a year, an entire year, I have felt:

Frustrated

Discouraged

Lonely

Through all of these transitions and changes, the biggest challenge has been making new friends and feeling like I belong here…in this home, in this community, in this world as it is…I feel lonely.  I do not feel known.

I can’t seem to find my rhythm or my space here.

I find myself thinking about what I can do to really focus on what’s good about my life right now.  I don’t want to focus any longer on what’s making me feel lonely. If I do then I continue to walk down the path of discouragement and resentment.

I have daily tried to turn my attention and focus on maintaining a heart of gratitude for…

Beautiful lake views

Beautiful home

Visitors (especially those that know me!)

Quiet Days and not so quiet ones, when I am needed to be “grandma” or “mom”

New grandbaby

Sick kids (Grandma is needed!)

Family is coming for dinner…cooking cleaning, enjoyment and frustration all in the same breath…at the same moment

Finding a new faith community

Stepping out of the comfort zone of being “known”

New relationships

Listening, opening my heart

Having time to spend with my husband, getting to know each other in new ways

Opportunities for travel

Here’s what I’ve learned and what I’m learning…

I have entered into a new FLOW of life.

Back and Forth.

Back and Forth.

This FLOW is not necessarily BAD, and it doesn’t have to be lonely, either.

I dedicate myself to this new flow, and I give myself grace for the resentments, the grief, and the loneliness I’ve felt as I adjust to these new ideas and this new place. I will develop a sense of curiosity about my new life and new people.   

What is waiting around the corner for me…a new friend? 
A new interest?   
What could that interest be? 
How can I be a blessing to someone here?   
What am I being invited to do?

I will try to lean into the unknown with an attitude of  “gracious” expectancy. I believe God has invited me to something special. I must accept this invitation and expect the positive.  I hope I can become aware of how my whole being is involved with new things…how does it fit me? If it feels good, go with it. If not, leave it for someone else who fits it better. But don’t be afraid to try it out and notice.

Notice…

If I tune in my peripheral vision to what’s happening in my life and read that too, not just what is in plain sight, I may be able to experience a deeper level of living.  Sometimes the next good or right thing is just a bit off to the left…or to the right...and I won’t see it if I’m laser focused on only what’s in front of me. I need a broader perspective.

I know as well that I must allow myself the space and time to grieve. It takes time to work through the grief of losing a parent and the loss of leaving a life we worked hard to build.  It takes time to make adjustments to the new rhythms of my life and accept them as the new “normal”.

My plans to sew and write, craft and decorate could be FOR me or maybe NOT.  I must accept the current FLOW.  But I can’t be afraid to shift course if need be. I can’t be afraid to say “NO” to the things that don’t fit.  I can’t force myself to FIT into something that is not me.

After a long vacation, and an exciting one.  It was good to be back HOME again.

I am learning to accept the new reality of what my life is and could become here.

I am anxious to get on with it.

Am I OPEN to the NEW flow of my life? I am working on it by…

Relishing the OLD. Keeping my memories, ideas, hopes, dreams…

Trusting God to continue to speak to me through my past experiences and my new situation.

Letting go of the “things” of the PAST.  There are “things” that burden us with their physical presence. Cleaning out the stuff that isn’t serving you any more is important. Take the time to do that.

My son told me a story of a seed laden dandelion, soft and feathery, ready to go out into the world.  He said when we blow on it, it scatters and then the seeds are just out there…to grow or not.  Once we’ve blown them away, we cannot get them back, we don’t have that control.  Our ideas and dreams are kind of like that too.  Once we let go of them, we can’t grab them back…even if they are our hopes and dreams. What grows is what takes root in soil that is ready for it. Reality is.  When something takes root, we can look to that and that alone as our current present reality. Just like in my dream, sometimes you can’t hold onto things forever.  
If it doesn’t fit anymore, let it go…

Gail Mehlan

October 31, 2016

Serenity

I’m in the car driving, taking a brief respite from the barrage of TV news and commercials. But the topic is still there on the radio.  This presidential election… Ugh.  I try to get away from it, yet I am drawn into it.  I feel compelled to listen. I think I have made a choice, but still I wait for some information that directs me differently.

The announcer on the radio is talking about a particular candidate.  He states,

“This candidate will do this and that…blah, blah, blah…and if that doesn’t give you goose bumps, then there is something wrong with you!”

I immediately feel a slow small tingly sensation creep up my spine and into the back of my head. The goose bumps travel down my arms and I shiver. There is nothing wrong with me.  I am afraid.

The stress of this fear is making me into someone I don’t like.  I can’t seem to let it go. I listen and react to each tiny sound bite from multiple sources. I follow both candidates on my twitter feed, there are constant Facebook memes making claims about both. It is almost as if I’m into an addiction that taunts me and drives my thinking. 

I remember back to the first time I voted for president.  I was just 18 years old. The only person I listened to about politics was my dad.  I always followed his lead because I trusted his ideas. (I was so young and naive!) When I walked in the poling place for the first time, I was overwhelmed with pride.  I felt so grown-up and important.  I was doing a great thing.  What an honor and privilege to be given the opportunity to vote.

But now…I must think for myself and there seems to be so much to know! As I enter to vote this season, I will be making a decision, and it is not an easy one this time.  My father is no longer with us, yet I still wonder what he would say about this particular election.  I miss his sound advice and informed opinion. I continue to experience the constant swirling thoughts. I thought I had matured enough to let them go…

Suddenly something enters into my thoughts in the form of a very familiar prayer.  I’ve called upon this prayer to release me from anxiety so many times in my life and for so many different circumstances…

“God, grant me the serenity….”

I hear the words in my heart and my body knows that’s what I need. Serenity.

“God, grant me the serenity…to accept the things I cannot change.”

My (Al-Anon) “program” teaches me that I cannot change anyone or anything.  Certainly in this situation I can vote.  But then I must let it go from there…into the universe trusting in a God that is the only one who knows the plans He has for us.  I must accept what I alone cannot change.  Even if the outcome sends goose bumps up my spine, I cannot change this.  So I let go…and let God come in and give me a small slice of His peace. Serenity.

“The courage to change the things I can…” 

Then I ask for courage.  This is the word I’ve chosen to focus on this year as my New Year’s resolution: Courage.  The courage to change the things I can change.  I vow to work on my negative thoughts, my stubbornness to view things a certain way, the courage to stop the thoughts when they overwhelm me. I vow to work on myself knowing that I am the only one I can change. Sometimes the only thing I can work on is my own perspective.  It takes courage, I think, to be myself…to do what I think is best and then move on. My heart begins to feel a bit of relief.  I can change only me.

“And the wisdom to know the difference.” 

God, that is what I do need! I listen and listen and find no peace in the listening.  Wisdom is what I pray for. The wisdom to know what I must accept and what I must change.  Wisdom. I don’t always know what it will be or how it will happen. Somehow trusting God to provide that wisdom gives me a sense of peace.

Time and time again, when I am caught up in the hustle and bustle of life, when things seem out of my control and beyond my scope of understanding,

this prayer centers me and offers a sense of calm.  God is with me.  He will provide the courage and the wisdom and all I need to do it. Breathe.  Breathe and carry on…one day at a time, one minute at a time if need be.

My friend sends me a Facebook message and in it he speaks of an idea that gives me hope and faith in our country.

“Each bird has two wings, a right and a left.  It’s body needs both wings to take flight, to soar.”- M.Arlen

So, too, our country needs people of all types, races, languages, and beliefs.  Our country needs two wings to fly…if both wings can agree to work together!  We are strong; we must start in the here and now to learn to fly together.

“God, grant me the serenity…”

Just saying those few words brings me peace for the moment.

Then I say it again…and again…like a mantra. I carry on.

Original Serenity Prayer

God, give us grace to accept with serenity

the things that cannot be changed,

Courage to change the things

which should be changed,

and the Wisdom to distinguish

the one from the other.

Living one day at a time,

Enjoying one moment at a time,

Accepting hardship as a pathway to peace,

Taking, as Jesus did,

This sinful world as it is,

Not as I would have it,

Trusting that You will make all things right,

If I surrender to Your will,

So that I may be reasonably happy in this life,

And supremely happy with You forever in the next.

Amen.

by Reinhold Niebuhr (1892-1971)

A Sunflower Moment Out on the Water

 

                                                      
“I want to sit next to you, Grandma!” Nina shouts happily.

Of course, I’m delighted at this request! But just as she utters these words, Allie pipes up with,

“But, I want to sit by Grandma, too!”

Nina whines, “NO! I want to sit next to Grandma!”

I calmly say to each of them, “That’s, fine, you can both sit next to me.  Allie, you sit on this side! See? There’s plenty of room for both of you! I’ll be a “Grandma Sandwich!”

Reluctantly she comes around to the other side.  Purposely she tries to get and do everything that her cousin does. There’s a little bit of cousin “envy” going on whenever we are together!

I have been so blessed with four beautiful and healthy grandchildren, Jack(7), Allie(4), Nina(2) and Kellan(1). Today we have them all.  All four of them are strapped into their life jackets and safely on board the pontoon boat. We’ve untied the boat from the dock and everyone is seated for the launch.  The launch is successful, and we’re on our way! It’s a beautiful, hot, sunny summer weekend.  All of us are anxious to enjoy our time together on beautiful Morse Lake.

Of course, at the moment, my lap is full with the baby, Kellan.
He, being the “baby” I’ve been around the most since we’ve moved to Indiana, is very comfortable with me and contentedly sits on my lap. He loves to be with his Grandma.

Just as we pull away from the dock and are well on our way onto the water, Jack, the oldest, recalls that he forgot his goggles at home. They are not at the dock, which would be an easy fix, but all the way back at their house, several miles away.

“But, I want my goggles! I can’t swim without my goggles! Dad, PLEASE! Can we PLEASE go home and get them?”

“No, Jack”, His dad says.  “ I told you to pack everything you needed and it’s too late now!”

“Aw, come on!” says Jack, “I really NEED my goggles!” Jack gets teary eyed and visibly upset.

“Jack,” Nina says softly and kindly, with her sweet tender voice, “You can use MY goggles if you want too!”

“NO! They’ll be too small for me! I want my own goggles!”

Jack begins to pout and starts to cry.  This is how he sometimes gets adults to change their minds and do what HE wants.  Because Jack is crying, Allie and Kellan start to get sad as well.  Even though they usually get on each other’s nerves, when one or the other is crying, they seem to have sympathy “sadness”.
Apparently, they really do love and care for each other.

At that very moment, my son, “Uncle” Matt, says, “Smile, say cheese!”  And he snaps a picture.

This is one of my all-time favorite pictures.  I smile because my heart is full here. First of all, all four of my grandchildren are together and I’m also in the picture. This is extremely rare.  I have very few pictures of me with my grandparents, and I know it will be a treasure.  And even though they aren’t all smiling and happy, it tells a story.  It tells a story of a day we had so much fun together on the boat. It tells the story of grandchildren who want to be with their grandparents and do things together.

The rest of the story goes like this:
We did get in some swimming in the water on this beautiful summer day. We found a spot on the beach at “Party Island” to park our boat, which is not easy on a sunny weekend day.  Jack learned that he could still swim without his goggles! We had a nice lunch on the boat, treats and beer for the adults included! We saw swans and ducks and felt the fish tickle our legs.

Even though the moments with these four are sometimes challenging and full of laughter and then crying intermittently from one minute to the next, I get to share time with these special kids and I love every moment of it.  I treasure this photo because it reminds me that…

“Sunflower” moments are precious.



July,  2015

Resurrection Parade

 











In the face of a culture of death
a world of killing fields
a world of walking dead
Christ is at the head of the resurrection parade
transforming our tears of betrayal into tears of joy
giving us dancing shoes for the resurrection party

And this glittering joker
who has danced in the dragon's jaw of death
now dances with a dance that is full
of nothing less that the fullness of God

this is the dance of the new creation

this is the dance of life out of death
and in this dance all that was broken
all that was estranged
all that was alienated
all that was dislocated and disconnected
is reconciled
comes home
is healed
and is made whole
      
Amen.

From the Roots of Life Prayers, July 17, 2016

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