Lenten Experiment - Day 29 (Our Little Drop of Water)

Nine years ago today, a very special person entered this world. She is the smallest, youngest of three sisters. Created for this time, this place, this little girl is my daughter, Brinna. Her name is a derivative of Brenna or Brianna which is from old Gaelic. It literally means "little drop of water" or "noble, high, exalted."

And, she has indeed provided refreshment to our family's soul - our little drop of water. From early on, she showed us her noble character, her generous spirit, her love of others. As her mother, I couldn't be more proud of her. It's not easy having a child at 42, but God had plans to enlarge and enhance our family and his plans are always true.

Brinna was born on a Sunday morning - right in the middle of church services. Ha - she knew her place right from the very beginning I think. The old Mother Goose rhyme says, "But the child born on the Sabbath day is fair and wise and good and gay." That indeed says it all.

This little sprite has given us all much to ponder, much to appreciate, and much to learn. The most important lesson, though, I've learned from Brinna is joy.

Thank you, Daughter #3. I'm so very glad God shared your special spirit with us!

Lenten Experiment - Day 13 (Blooms Eternal)

Well, to the outside reader, today's entry might appear a bit strange, maybe even intrusive into my daughter's life. However, it was her idea and since I was once again struggling with what to write, I'm going to take her idea and run with it. Let's all just hope she doesn't regret her suggestion later. . .

July 1 is her birthday and last summer she turned 19. For months before her birthday she made comments about all the potted orchids we saw at the local grocery store. They came in a a variety of pretty colors - white with purple spots, mauves, yellows. Their delicate blooms teetered on splindly green branches and she was entranced with their beauty and simplicity. I determined that one of those graceful beauties would brighten her birthday celebration.

Who would have thunk that her young man would also have the same thought. Like minds think alike (ssshhh, and our minds do run in parallel universes, strangely enough).

So just a few days before her birthday my youngest daughter, Brinna, & I surveyed the selection and picked a lovely white flower (Phalaenopsis) with mauve accents.

The night before her birthday her young man drove in from Kansas City long after she had gone to bed so he could surprise her the next morning for her birthday. Yes, you guessed it - he toted a large pot carrying another Phalaenopsis orchid in bright pink with dark pink spots. I snapped a photo of it outside her door--patiently awaiting her discovery.

The two plants bloomed for about a month, then shed their colorful ornaments. The last several months, these two orchids have adorned our kitchen counter--dormant spiky stems sticking hither and yon. We trimmed them back as instructed and kept up our regimented ice cube watering but month and after tortuous month, the stems still taunted us with their barrenness. Everything we read said the flowers would be dormant for three months, but after six months my poor daughter was becoming distraught.

Then, all of a sudden a couple of weeks ago, tiny buds began to form on one of the top stems. We watched in wonder each day hoping for the blooms to open, but the bulbs only got bigger. Then last week, my lovely daughter faced several challenges that threatened her very soul. By week's end, she was worn out, only to greet a lovely pink bloom that grew and expanded as Friday matured.

And, sweetly enough, it all coincided with another visit from her young man - just as it did 8 months ago.

Guess I'm just a sappy old romantic, but I can't help thinking about the joy that bloom brought to my daughter. It continues to be a symbol of patience, love eternal, and hope.

Lenten Experiment - Day 3

As some of you may know today, February 24, is my dad's birthday. It suddenly hit me today that he's been gone now for 20 years. It feels like a lifetime. My oldest daughter was only three and my second daughter was only 6 months old when he died. Daughter #3 wasn't even born yet. His 82 years were full, rich with adventures, friends and family.

Many times I wish my daughters could have known him as a grandfather and friend. But they didn't and that can never be changed. Instead we can remember him through stories, photos, and passing on memories of joys experienced with him. Even this little blog can be a tribute to the loving father I knew for but a fraction of my life.

While he was not outwardly a man of faith, and I don't pretend to know the man's heart, he possessed faith - faith in people and circumstances. He had that "never give up" attitude so characteristic of his generation and those who lived through The Great Depression. I learned determination, perseverence, hard work, loyalty, and optimism from him. And, probably a host of other things.

I inherited my love of learning and reading from him as well. It always amazed me that the man, the farmer, who never went to college was a voracious reader. His library included a daily diet of The Wall Street Journal and The Kansas City Star. Then it expanded to every known farm magazine of the day - the Missouri Ruralist, Successful Farming, Farm Journal - and National Geographic and Arizona Highways. He also read every book he could on the Civil War and World War II.

He was a complicated man in the sense that he was a deep thinker, but his tastes were simple so indicative of the hill-top farmhouse where he was born along with ten other children. I can't remember him ever coveting a new car or the latest gadget. His whole focus was always to provide for my mom and I no matter the personal cost. Christmas mornings saw him unceremoniously opening present after present from my mom who thought lavish gifts could solve the world's problems. It always took a lot of persuasion to get him to participate in the annual ritual of receiving new clothes he didn't really need or want. Poor mom, she was well meaning and gifting was one of her love languages--I'm just sure of it. LOL

So, Day 3 this Lent has been an exercise in memories--recounting where I've come from, who shaped my early days, life lessons learned and applied. Thanks Dad - I'm a better person for knowing you, for being loved by you. Happy Birthday!