blog feed

It was another early morning as we headed up to see my father in Michigan. With hair barely styled and tired looking eyes, we took him to church and then out for brunch.

The topic of conversation quickly turned to the war in Ukraine. His eyes always take a certain look when he relives some of the stories of World War II. ” Did I ever tell you this story?” he usually asks. Even though we heard it many times, we are grateful that he is staying awake for the visit.

A Heroic Mother

The following story has remained with me very vividly. It probably happened during the year 1944. The German army was very nervous. ” A Bridge Too Far” had been fought and they knew that the Allied troops would eventually cross the river. German troops would swarm from one area to the other. Stories were told that whenever the tropps invaded a farm, they would demand all available milk and other dairy products. When my mother heard these stories, she expressed determination to keep the milk. This was her plan. As soon as the Germans entered the farm homestead, she would take a pail of milk and present it as a gift, hoping that they would view it with pleasure. The German officer was so impressed that this farm wife exhibited such graciousness that he didn’t care about getting additional milk for others. This went on for a couple of days, but my mother didn’t like the idea of the German officer receiving a full pail of milk. She started diluting the milk each day until it was half water and half milk. The Germans drank it happily, not having any suspicions. During this time, my aunt, who lived in a neighboring village, was getting ready to give birth to a baby. My mother often helped with delivering babies. However, delivering babies often takes more time than expected. When it was time for the milk delivery to the German, she was not around. My oldest sister decided that she needed to give the milk instead. My mother was very careful about diluting the milk. She would pump a pail of water, take it into the kitchen where she proceeded to dilute the milk. My sister, however, took a pail, filled it half with milk and walked to the pump where she filled the rest with water. This was all in sight of the Germans. Why did she do it that way? I have no idea! The officer exploded, screaming and swearing that he would kill my parents and burn the house down. We immediately went into hiding and decided to try and intercept my mother before she came back. After some time, she came biking down the road. We begged her not to go back, but she took matter into her own hands instead. She went back, found the officer, and gave him the milk, apologizing for the misunderstanding. She told the officer that a family tradition was to dilute the milk and her daughter had assumed the same for his milk. Wonder of wonders, he accepted the apology. Two days later, my mother diluted the milk again and the officers never knew the difference. Here again, we witnessed God’s hand at work.

The hallway erupted in raucous yelling, prompting the diligent first-grade teacher to return to the classroom. “This is NOT the way we walk down the hallway on the 100+ day of school, ” she sternly told them.

As she watched them exit to the playground minus the regular winter coat, she commented, ” Ah…the simple joys of not wearing a coat. Who would think it would bring so much happiness?”

The warm spring weather is a definite relief from the crazy winter weather, but it’s also a reminder of God’s goodness to us. Difficulties do not last forever.

The people of Ukraine filled my mind as the war images flashed across the screen. What are their simple joys? A friend posted a video that summed it all. ” He Will Hold Me Fast”. It all reminded me of my own grandparents during WWII. Here is one of the stories, written by my father.

For four years, Dad managed to snowball the Germans. However, in the spring of 1945, the Germans caught on and Dad had to go into hiding. He received word that the Germans figured out that he was tricking them. On April 16, Dad came home for a few minutes to take care of some urgent matters. Somehow, our place had been under surveillance because soon the Germans came and arrested him. I never will forget the sight of my dad walking down the road with a German pushing him in the back. We did not think we would see him again, but God had other plans. The Allied forces were on the outskirts of our town and the Germans were extremely nervous. The city hall, where my father was held, was surrounded by German troops, but they were in total confusion. One Dutch policeman, a friend of my dad, was working in the city hall. While this policeman kept an eye on the German troops, my dad escaped through the back door of the building and found his way home.

God will hold the Ukrainians fast, just like He continues to do for all of us.

These two words have been circulating in my brain for the last two weeks. I keep evaluating myself.

I decided to complete a web search on these thought-provoking words and discovered an array of blogs and suggestions on how to accomplish this goal in the hurried fast-paced world.

• https://lynnjsimpson.com/an-intentional-breath/ Thinking about the winter snow where no feet have trodden made me stop and think. The pictures in this blog are beautiful!
• https://www.lifehack.org/893096/be-intentional– This blog contains some very practical and helpful tips. Narrating your progress, as the author terms it, could be life-changing!
• http://lemonadeandgrace.com/intentional-moments/ This poetic blog reminds me of the beauty of small moments.
• https://kfishwickteacherportfolio.weebly.com/intentional-and-spontaneous-teaching.html And then…. intentional teaching. This teacher reminds me of the meaningful moments when working with children.

Intentional, not flurried or hectic, but purposeful moments in life where I purposely create important memories. Do I actually do this?

I have been communicating with my father in different ways. He seems to be able to hear when we use Facetime audio. Who would have known? I also want to keep my goal of seeing him once per month, but I have to be deliberate in this planning as winter weather can be unpredictable.

My goal is to be intentional with my third-grade students as I realize that my time with them is rapidly drawing to a close. They are one of the most precious groups of children I have ever taught!

I need to be intentional with my service. What am I actually doing to help other people? Am I listening to their needs or just consumed with my own?

Intentional moments- what is my definition? What am I doing with my time? I will continue to ponder as the journey continues.

Recently, I searched for information regarding the current senior citizen population. I located information from https://www.consumeraffairs.com/

According to the U.S. Census Bureau’s latest estimates:

• Over 50 million senior citizens live in the U.S., making up 16.5% of the total population.
• Florida has the highest percentage of senior citizens (21%), followed by Maine (20%).
• Utah has the lowest percentage of senior citizens (10.8%), followed by Alaska (11.1%).
• California is home to the largest total population of senior citizens (over 5.4 million), followed by Florida (4.2 million).

Author Kathryn Parker includes additional statistics for other states. She also describes how people in this age bracket want to ” age in place” which means to stay in their homes and not nursing home facilities. It’s not surprising. My father still mentions his home on Swather Drive.

After reading the article, I wondered about statistics about caregiving. How many caregivers are located in these same states? How many people actually have designated caregivers, people who consistently advocate for the elderly’s needs?

A few weeks ago, I came into contact with a caregiver. Her words reminded me of the vast need to support those who dedicate time and energy to help the elderly. She remarked, ” Someone asked me if I had taken a vacation. I was surprised at such a question and then realized that most people do not know what it takes to be a caregiver unless you are one yourself.”

It made me wonder what resources are available for caregivers. This partial list may be a start.

• https://circleof.com/app/— This resource would have been a huge benefit to me when I was in Michigan!
• https://www.caringbridge.org/resources/caregiver-support-groups/—- Caring Bridge is a wonderful way to connect with others.
• https://news.yahoo.com/huntington-hospital-opens-reichert-family-l–And this! a place at a hospital for caregivers! Excellent idea!
• https://www.aarp.org/caregiving/local/info-2021/state-caregiver-resources.html– This resource breaks down support groups by states.
• https://www.focusonthefamily.com/get-help/encourage-your-elders-faith-and-spiritual-life/– How can the church help? This article reminds the church to help those who are elderly and reach out on a regular basis.

Remembering the elderly also means remembering the caregivers. I think I will reach out to one today. How about you?

The Facetime call, on Saturday afternoon, prompted the final decision. ” I really want to go to church and take communion,” my father pled. ” Is there some way I can go?”

Leaving at 5:30 in the morning seems crazy, but we somehow managed to arrive and pick up my father for church. His beaming smile made everything worth it. Taking communion was important since he only visits the church once a month. He thoroughly enjoyed visiting with the people, although his hearing always prevents detailed conversations.

Eating an omelet for Sunday Brunch seemed to perk him up. Even though he described the portion a too big, he managed to eat most of it.

To top it off, a colossal ice structure greeted us when we brought him back to Waterford. I had to stop for a picture. ” It would be crazy to have Dad in that picture, wouldn’t it?” I somewhat jokingly asked Mitch. “YES!” he immediately responded. I could not help thinking how cool it would be to create some black/ whites with him in it, but I had to agree.

We dropped him off at the front entrance and headed back to Indiana. Surprisingly, the roads were clear and the drive seemed to pass quickly. It was a perfect Sunday visit.

As the daily challenges of Covid continue, it’s tempting to drive far away and spend hours on the beach where everything seems so much easier. The fresh air and bright sunshine make you forget the disruption of Covid.

The book, Life is Better at the Beach, found its way in my satchel on this past trip. My mom, an avid beach person, gave it to me many years ago. It includes 15 rules of the beach. Number 4, Look for Seashells, is one of my favorites because it never gets old. Looking for that perfect shell is one of the best ways to spend a day at the beach.

The challenge is how to adopt that same rule in a winter climate, but it can be done. For me, it is creating cozy areas inside the home, lighting candles, drinking hot tea, and reading a good book. It’s embracing the moment, finding joy in the little things, and remembering the moments.

Choosing a word for the year is a recent trend. I like it, think about it, and then promptly forget to choose a word. Maybe I will remember for 2022. Instead, what about a Christmas song for the year?

This song by Francesca Battistelli is one I could not stop humming during Christmas Break. I thought about it in different ways. In November of 2018, one of Caden’s classmates passed away due to a car accident. This song seemed to resonate when I thought back to that tragic night. COVID, the disrupter of all disruptions, causes deep sadness as I think about so many lives and relationships broken.

But sadness is not the only emotion I feel with this song. The line, “Thrill of Hope” is what I felt when seeing dolphins swimming close to shore on Anna Maria Island, our vacation spot during Christmas Break. All of a sudden, their gray bodies glided near to the shore, much to the joy of beachgoers. It was magical to witness.

The line, “lift your eyes and behold Him” reminds me of God’s provision. “We were in an accident” were my mother-in-law’s words right after we spent a fun evening playing cards and eating dinner. ” We will be right there,” I answered. Despite a mangled vehicle, nobody was hurt. As I sat in our truck with my somewhat calm mother-in-law, I watched God’s hand at work. Gratitude filled my heart for the opportunity to be there with them, reminding them of God’s goodness in the midst of an accident. It seemed like only minutes passed before the tow truck arrived. Locating a specific rental vehicle for them was a breeze.

Behold Him also means to look at the beauty. The ocean never ceases to fill me with amazement. I hope that I can remember to behold Him as 2022 begins.

I couldn’t believe it when I opened the present. How did my student know? Wrapped in tissue paper was the small, ceramic, battery-operated Christmas tree. When my mother passed away and we sorted through the Christmas items, my brother quickly snagged the nicest ceramic tree for his son. I was left with a ceramic blue one that desperately needed attention. I swallowed my irritation with my brother, bit back my reply, and decided I would somehow get another one. I have hesitated to purchase one because of the cost and now.. a smaller version was given to me. How did my student know? Of course, he didn’t know, but it definitely is one of my favorite memories of Christmas 2021 so far.

Since it is small, I hope to bring it when we see my father later this week and then in Florida when we celebrate with my in-laws. ” The Traveling Christmas Tree” could be a good way to define it.

Regardless of how it’s used, I will put it in My Christmas Fave List for 2021.

“It’s amazing how music can spark certain memories, ” I remarked to my husband during the day. He agreed, rather absentmindedly.

For me, however, a conversation after church and then the devotional we read at the kitchen table seemed to bring me back in time. After opening Christmas presents, we always seemed to watch Handel’s Messiah on television. This powerful oratorio never ceases to send chills up my spine. The second song, “Ere Zij God” brings back memories of my Dutch uncles, boisterously singing at Christmas gatherings. According to the devotional we read at the kitchen tables, it is common for some churches to sing this song on Christmas Day, although I do not recall singing it in my childhood.

Conversations after church centered on various Christmas songs and their impact. “You need to listen to “O Come All Ye Unfaithful”, one person urged. I wasn’t disappointed. It is another song that makes an impact.

It makes me wonder what kind of singing occurs in heaven. My mother, always a soprano, stopped singing as she grew older. I don’t know if it was because of dementia, but she did not sing in the same way. However, I am always grateful for the way she shared her love of music. It definitely is one of God’s beautiful gifts.

It never ceases to surprise me. Out of nowhere, the drop forms, the memories hit, and a pang of sadness fills my thoughts.

As our friends sat around the dining room table today for our first Thanksgiving meal of the week, we reread some of our thoughts from the past Thanksgiving holidays. There it was: Oma. The last time she visited our house for Thanksgiving was 2017 and her list of thanks could have been uttered today. “Our country has had many bad times, but we are still happy we live in the United States.” As I reread past gratitude lists, her thoughts often centered on safety. She would be so thankful to hear Caden’s future father-in-law’s comments, ” I am so thankful that God answered our prayers for a Christian husband for our daughter. We have prayed and prayed for this and now God answered our prayers.”

As I read parts of the Thanksgiving story to our guests from Nigeria, New Zeeland, and China, my thoughts turned back to the many visits we enjoyed throughout the years. While living in Kansas, my parents would spend an entire week with us, helping with chores around our home and relaxing in the family room at night. Once we moved to Indiana, they still journeyed to our home but did not stay as long. My mom always ironed Mitch’s shirts, a task she thoroughly enjoyed! She would always marvel at our Thanksgiving dinner and often peeled the potatoes in amazing speed and dexterity I never quite achieved. They always enjoyed visiting with our international visitors, a tradition we started when Mitch first became a professor. We sometimes had to caution my father to avoid controversial topics! “Keep it light, Dad!”

As the tears threatened to continue, I remember a time when she and I were talking about the fact that she would not always be on this earth. “That time will come, Michelle,” she commented. “And you will be okay.”

Yes, Mom, I will be okay, but I will still miss you and am always thankful for your Thanksgiving visits.