I {LOVE} Sunday::to be planted and flourish...

The righteous flourish like the palm tree
and grow like a cedar in Lebanon.
They are planted in the house of the LORD;
they flourish in the courts of our God.
They still bear fruit in old age;
they are ever full of sap and green,
to declare that the LORD is upright;
he is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in him.
Psalm 92:12-15 ESV
{With the Sunday Community at Lisha's #GiveMeGrace }

The best day ever...

I shared this story from 4 years ago at the women's study at church last week. How often do we -- do I -- complain about what I don't have and then fail to rejoice at God's goodness to others? I've never forgotten this - how 4yo Gavin demonstrated what it means to rejoice with those who rejoice, even when -- especially when -- there's nothing in it for me.

Celebrating Mason's birthday with all four grand-littles together -- for three delightful hours on a Sunday afternoon -- was pure joy.    

They are gifts of immeasurable worth -- each one of them, and I'm inspired by their examples of an innocent faith and joy in the simple pleasures of life.

With individual and unique personalities and character traits, they are both a challenge to parent (and grandparent) and a source of great delight and entertainment -- keeping us on our knees one moment and rejoicing in laughter and God's blessings the next.

Four and a half year old Gavin is a perfect example. There's no denying it -- he can be a handful. Strong willed, rambunctious and not the most compliant little boy, yet I've never seen a child be happier with any gift he is given or be a more cheerful giver than Gavin. Though he wants them back when the game is over, he often plays at giving his toys away as gifts. 

Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.

At Mason's party, Gavin watched with excitement as both Mason and two year old Austin opened gifts from the family. Not once did he sulk or complain that there were no gifts for him. If I had been Gavin, I might have felt sorry for myself -- the only one, except for six month old Addisyn, to not have a present to open. But standing in the middle of all the excitement, the floor littered with wrapping paper and most of Mason's and Austin's gifts opened, Gavin happily declared, "This is the best day ever."

I want to be more like Gavin -- a cheerful giver who wholeheartedly rejoices at the gifts of others.

Photos: that delightful Sunday afternoon and this mimi with all four grand-littles - Austin, Mason, Addisyn and Gavin.

Still Saturday::good medicine and my beautiful mother...

A joyful heart is good medicine...
Proverbs 17.22

My mother lived with the pain of rheumatoid arthritis for most of her adult life. Her legacy to me in that was that she did so with much grace and humor. With a chuckle that made light of the challenges she faced, she'd often remind me that growing older ain't for sissies.

By the time I cared for her in our home, her memory had faded and her disabilities were many, but her ability to laugh at herself and others remained.

Despite my decades earlier career in professional nursing, the hands-on care of someone with mother's complex needs was a new experience. Unaware that she needed adaptive clothing with closures in the back, I remember trying to dress her in a blouse she'd worn for years before her drastic decline in health. Slipping her right arm through the shirt sleeve was a breeze, but even with my daughter's help, repeated efforts and short of breaking her arm, there was no way to slide her left arm through the other. We'd both laugh at our predicament.

Mother's laughter and cheerful disposition were the gift of good medicine for us both.

Over the years, Mothers Day celebrations were often one with my mother's birthday, and were she not in Heaven this Mother's Day weekend, we'd be celebrating her 96th birthday today.

I miss my mother and her hugs terribly. Though I know I must wait for Heaven to hug her back and tell her how much I love her still, I fell asleep last night asking Jesus that if it's possible He'd do so for me.

Hollywood boasts in the Avengers but heaven boasts in the mothers.
 ~ Van Komatsu
{Photo: my paternal grandmother Lucille White, my beautiful mother Mary Eleanor with me, my dad with my baby brother Mike, my maternal grandmother Mary Gardner, Easter, 1952}

I {LOVE} Sunday::to celebrate family...

But the steadfast love of the Lord  is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him, and his righteousness to children's children...
Psalm 103.17 ESV
This is the day that the Lord has made;
let us rejoice and be glad in it.
Psalm 118:24

It's a party weekend for the Hunter family. Our oldest grandson Mason will be 7 on June 28th and my handsome husband Louis is 64 today, and for the second year in a row, we're celebrating Mason's birthday on Louis' birthday. The photo is Mason's birthday cake, June 23, 2012.

No matter what...

It's not quite 7:00 when I stop at the top of the bridge long enough to capture the sun rising over the misty river.

It's not the first time I've done that - foot on the brake, grab the camera and shoot. Five seconds, tops.

My friend insists that there are signs forbidding it - stopping on the bridge, but I've yet to see one. Fishing and swimming? Clearly prohibited, but not one word about stopping, and so far, I've escaped the bridge tender's attention.  

* * *

I crossed the bridge and headed west for a full day of appointments in the city. I'm still recovering. A normal day of activity for most people can feel like a marathon for me. There were moments in the day when I wasn't sure I could take one more step.

By my last stop of the day in the late afternoon, when the radiology tech called me out of the waiting room for a thyroid ultrasound and dexa scan, I'd already had x-rays of my knees, seen an orthopedic surgeon and his excellent nurse practitioner Lizzie (who gives the best knee injections and is overall awesome), spent the rest of the morning at church working on the soon-to-be-released church blog, and shopped for clothes and birthday gifts. I was grateful to lie down on the exam table, get off my feet and close my eyes during the tests.

***

With appointments with my rheumatologist, another knee injection from Lizzie, and the removal of a cyst at the plastic surgeon's office on the calender, next week's schedule appears equally daunting - and, technically, I'll be a whole year older.

I won't tell you how old I was when I woke up this morning, but let you figure it out. Born smack dab in the middle of the last century, on May 18, 1950 and having lived through the turn of the century makes it easy - 50 + the year it is. The older I get, the harder it is to remember or care how old I am and the more I appreciate easy math problems.

God has been good to me these 50 + 13 years, and I know He always will be. Ann Voskamp's God is Always Good and You are Always Loved is written on my blackboard this week as a reminder, and the book Robbi and I have been working on - No Matter What It's a Good Day When - is in the hands of a publisher.

I woke up to fresh coffee and a lovely gift from Louis. A beautiful bouquet of white and dark pink peonies from Emily is on the counter and my daughter-in-love Kristin is cooking dinner for me tonight. The day has just begun and it's already very good.

For the Lord is good;
his steadfast love endures forever,
and his faithfulness to all generations.
Psalm 100.5