Happy Little Trees

All summer I have been really busy, and I don’t know why and I don’t see anything that I’ve really accomplished. When I was a kid, summer was spent swimming in the river, making mud/sand castles, and catching lightening bugs. You know, doing important summer things.

This summer, I feel kind of gypped; something must be done. So, therefore, I declare the time from Labor Day to Halloween the Summer of Beth!. During the Summer of Beth! many fabulous non-planned activities will be taking place. I’ll be finishing up the book on Rwanda that I borrowed from Mike along with a few other books, I’ll be hopefully getting to spend some time at Kim’s pool and finally be brave enough to go down the slide, and I’ll spend some time at Sonic slurping a Lemon-Berry slush. The rest of the activities are TBD on a TBA last-minute basis.

Since Houston really doesn’t allow for much of a Fall anyway, I’m just naturally extending summer. Feel free to join me if you’d like, but no plans are really allowed. If we’re tired, we just rest and don’t go out. If we’re bored, we go for a walk or dance around to hip-hop. Somebody get me a freezer pop and some flip-flops because the Summer of Beth! is here!!

I think I must be a magician. Because I can have something in my hand and then when I look for it again, it’s completely disappeared. And it finally reappears in a place that I didn’t even expect. I just have to figure out the magic word so I can control it better. It can be frustrating living with secret magic skills that are so good you even trick yourself.

One of my friends is going through a hard time today. And even though this might very well be one of the worst days of her life, I am very proud of her. Over the last several years, there have been circumstances and choices made in her life, that have pretty much taken her down to the bottom where the rocks hang out. She doesn’t live near me, so it’s been really hard to communicate with her during this time. Sometimes it’s not the easiest thing in the world to pick up the phone or answer a call when you’re not having your best day now.

During my last visit her, I wanted to cry the entire time we talked. Not because I was sad for her, but because I was so happy. I have prayed for her for years to really know Christ—to experience the peace that passes understanding, and to finally be free to be the beautiful, amazingly intelligent and gifted woman God has created her to be.

Her grandmother was a very precious woman who glowed the love of God, and after she died, I felt like I needed to make an extra effort to pray for her, since her grandmother wouldn’t be around to intercede for her. I have to admit, I haven’t always done the best job of being her prayer intercessor. Sometimes I get consumed with my own life, and neglect to lift up her needs. Thank goodness God’s time keeping is different than mine!

On that last visit, my friend shared with me her love of the Lord, her extreme dependence on the Lord, and how she finally felt like the hole inside of her had been filled. Since I’ve known her since I was very small, I’ve seen the good days in her life, and I’ve seen very hard times in her life. Today might be one of those days, but I praise God that she won’t have to turn to any person, substance, or anything, because she has the great comforter soothing all those formerly anxious places.

My eyes were drawn to a sign today on a map that was a large red circle that had the words, “YOU ARE HERE” written inside. It’s kind of comforting to know where you are. Sometimes it would be nice to know where exactly I was going to, “YOU ARE GOING HERE.”

That’s where the trust factor has to come in. No matter how much we plan or study or tinker with life or circumstances, the plan is in God’s hands. Our brains are so itty bitty that what we see as our world, is our world, when there’s so much that we cannot see or even imagine. Our lives can drone on at the same speed and tempo for years, or it can change in the blink of an eye.

When I really think about it, the mystery is far more exciting than always seeing the sign of where I’m going. The uncertainty of life is one of the ways God romances us.

Like taking a leap into your daddy’s arms for him to catch you.
Like diving off the high-dive for the first time.
Like telling someone you love them.

It’s all butterflies, and nervousness at first, and then it’s the milliseconds that are later suspended into slow, replaying memories, and then the finish—the great sigh of relief.

The father’s safe embrace.
The shock of being briefly surrounded by the heavy sound of water to find safety at the oxygen-filled surface.
The unbelievable feeling of knowing you finally got the words out whether they came out right or not.

The best thing about it all is that God’s red circle says, “I AM HERE” everywhere I go. Thanks, God. I need you.

I really wanted to go home right after work yesterday, but I knew that I also wanted to visit with Cody in the hospital. I knew I would regret it if I didn’t go visit him, so I went, and I was very glad.

When I first got there, neither his mom nor dad was in the room, so I felt a bit uncomfortable visiting while he was sleeping. I looked at his vitals on the screen which looked good from what I could tell, sat in a chair by his bed, and waited watching the cash cab show where people get money for answering trivia.

Then, he suddenly opened his eyes, so I explained who I was the best I could, and then his dad came in telling me that some people from Kentucky were just on the cash cab show—and lost.

His dad and I talked to Cody, and his dad showed me his new progress of the day. Cody can wink his left eye now. And he yawns. It’s like seeing a baby grow up before your eyes in a teenager body. The small things he does are just as exciting. Because it’s one more step of him becoming the outgoing teenager that he was before surgery.

The rest of the time, Cody lies in his bed not moving or sleeping, and it’s made him pretty weak. He has a feeding tube in his nose, and a trach. He’s starting to have more and more time off the breathing machine, which is good. He is still fighting a bit of infection in his lungs.

His dad was talking about how he felt like they were soldiers through this. They’ve left their home, and now they’re fighting. So I looked at Cody and said, “Cody, you’re a soldier!” And his mouth frowned and he looked up with tears in his eyes. Thank God his dad was there and said, “Aw, come on, Cody!” Because if not, I would have felt really, really bad for making him cry, and I don’t think I would have been able to stop crying myself.

Cody had squeezed my hand super-tight, and he can point, so I asked him if he could make the sign language symbol “b” for my name with his hand, and he did it. Then, I showed him “a”, “b”, “c” for Cody, and “d” for Dad, and “m” for Mom, and he did them all. It was some small form of communication, but touched my heart so much. It’s comforting to know that he hears, and he knows. I prayed with him before I left, and he squeezed my hand super-tight again.

His dad said that Cody’s hope was that his experience would draw someone closer to Christ—that God would work through him in this situation. They’ve already heard from some of Cody’s friends from home that are praying for Cody, and actually praying for the first time in a long time. And let me tell you, this boy who had never spoken a word to me, has touched my heart in huge ways. God bless him. God heal him.

--Note: the pic above is Cody and his girlfriend, Jamey, not me. :) She has red hair, too.

My friend’s mom has a secret recipe she will not disclose (and I’ve begged!) for a special dessert bar that is so delicious, you’ll instantly eat five of them and say you only had three. They’re peanut butter and topped with a layer of chocolate. My friend used these bars to raise money at a bake sale (which was for my dad) and raised about $700-$800. These bars are so delicious.

She had a great idea of passing them out to clients last week, but was having a tough time not eating all of them herself. She had some leftovers and was left with a dilemma.

The story I’m telling today was part of a very recent phone conversation. I’ll warn you, it’s not pretty. Please do not read during your lunch hour. Names will not be disclosed in this story (except for mine). The story has been edited for content:

Friend: “Beth, remember those chocolate and peanut butter special bars I made to hand out to clients last week? Well, on Friday we had some left over, so I filled a Styrofoam cooler with ice, and laid them on top, so they wouldn’t melt. I asked Stacy, my assistant manager, if she thought they’d be okay even though it was so hot, and she said they’d be fine because I had them in GLAD baggies. I guess I should have taken in account that I got those baggies at the dollar store.”

Me: “Wait a minute. Did you use GLAD’s name in vain? You really didn’t have GLAD baggies?”

Friend: “Well, the GLAD had a double D.
I just opened up the cooler, and it looked like the Titanic.”

Me: “Oh my gosh. They died a sailor’s death.”

Friend: “Some of the little baggies must have had a tiny hole, or maybe they weren’t sealed right, but it was horrible. I have never seen anything look closer to diarrhea in my life. It was like bags of diarrhea. And the bags that leaked out had turned the water a strange color. I really want to throw up.”

Me: “Oh dear. Well, maybe now you won’t be as addicted to them. It’s like a curse or something. Wonderful and peanut buttery delicious on Friday, and if they sit and you don’t eat them, they turn into diarrhea.”

Hmmm…maybe this story could be paralleled to manna from heaven.
I keep trying to decide if I would have still eaten the bars or not. They are really good bars.

I just booked a ticket to Vegas--to go to a Vegas wedding. I don't plan on having one of my own while I'm there, but I'm excited. My best friend Amy is supposed to come, too. We're trying to see if we can make it into a reality mini-series.