Vacation 2010

Vacation 2010: Katie, Jonathan, and cousin Elizabeth at Hartwick Pines State Park

Vacations can be tricky things, I've learned. We plan and we wait and wait and wait--with great anticipation--for those few luxurious days when the only agenda is no agenda, when the only things we do are the things we want to do when we're doing what we have to do--reading a book in the sun, swimming in the lake, hiking, canoeing, golfing, biking, shopping. How could this be anything less than bliss?

We waited and waited and waited--with great anticipation--for vacation 2010: a week at a cottage on Higgins Lake. And we certainly were not disappointed. We slept in and some of us didn't get dressed till noon, read books in the sun, swam at the lake, hiked, canoed, played games, laughed a lot, and just plain made lots of wonderful memories. We even added our Elizabeth to the mix, the sweetest and funniest fourteen-year-old niece and cousin you could have, making our week that much more fun.

But it's a myth to think that vacation isn't work, that we're living heaven on earth for a few days. A power outage that lasts for eight hours forces us into town for food and water and finds us amusing ourselves at Super Walmart.  We discover that the woods aren't just filled with the sounds of rustling leaves, melodious birds, and rays of sunlight--they're filled with mosquitoes too. And how long it takes three teenagers traveling in a canoe to reach the landing at four miles an hour becomes more than just an algebra problem--it eventually becomes a funny story after everyone finds their place in the canoe. And you also learn that space is a good thing when teenagers and adults are living in the same place.

But in the end, the imperfections blend together with the squirt gun fights at the lake, the cute puppy up the street, the time when Jonathan nearly got left behind at the pizza place, our family watching a movie together or playing UNO, and Katie and Elizabeth's numerous hours devoted to . . . coloring. And you put it all together, and you have the lovely memory of vacation 2010.

(This post is dedicated to LRHG, who is tired of the kissing picture. Go figure . . .)

Two Years

Photo by LVL Photography

It's hard to believe that we'll be celebrating our second anniversary on Sunday, July 11. And two years later, we love to kiss, much to Katie and Jonathan's chagrin!

I heard this quote from the church father Tertullian at a family conference I attended last spring. I'm happy to say that it fittingly describes my life with Henry. Happy anniversary, my dear husband.

How beautiful, then, the marriage of two Christians, two who are one in hope, one in desire, one in the way of life they follow, one in the religion they practice.

They are as brother and sister, both servants of the same Master. Nothing divides them, either in flesh or in Spirit. They are in very truth, two in one flesh; and where there is but one flesh there is also but one spirit.

They pray together, they worship together, they fast together; instructing one another, encouraging one another, strengthening one another.

Side by side they face difficulties and persecution, share their consolations. They have no secrets from one another, they never shun each other's company; they never bring sorrow to each other's hearts . . .  Psalms and hymns they sing to one another.

Hearing and seeing this, Christ rejoices. To such as these He gives His peace. Where there are two together, there also He is present, and where He is, there evil is not.

Toy Story 3

I'm sure many families, like ours, have watched their children grow up with Andy, the child character in the Toy Story movies. When the first Toy Story movie came to theaters in 1995, Katie was 4 and Jonathan was 2. Katie remembers seeing it in the theater (she said she thinks it's the first movie she can remember seeing in a theater), and, of course, Jonathan does not. We did come to own the video, though, so we watched it many times together as a family. By the time Toy Story 2 came out in 1999, Katie and Jonathan were a little older and we were great fans of Woody, Buzz, and the family that looked a little like ours at the time: a single mom and Andy and his little sister. 

So it was a poignant experience today, watching the grown-up Andy now heading off for college. I won't give away the plot for anyone out there who still plans to see it, but the movie has a lot to say about the importance of belonging, of loving and being loved, and of what we're willing to endure at times to be there for someone we love. But it's also about growing up--the things that we let go as we grow and the memories that are there to stay. So there I sat next to my nearly 19-year-old Katie and my 16-year-old Jonathan, and I sniffled a little bit at the end as we collectively said goodbye to Andy, Buzz, Woody, Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head, and all of Andy's special toy friends who have become our toy friends. And I thought about the lonely American Girl dolls packed away in the basement and the Brio trains and track that make an appearance only when little boys come to visit, and I hoped that someday there would be children who would welcome the chance to play with them.

And then we went to our longtime favorite pizza place and reminisced about the times we spent there in the past and the toys we once loved. And for old time's sake, Katie and Jonathan even bickered a little over cleaning the bathroom, and we threatened to make them walk home. But it was a wonderful way to spend a hot summer holiday afternoon, celebrating childhood, family, and happy memories.  So do go see Toy Story 3. You'll be glad you did.

Great Stuff: True Woman | Shedding some Light on Twilight

Since my own daughter hasn't had much interest in the Twilight series/movies, I really haven't followed this popular cultural trend very closely, other than to know that in some Christian circles, there is some debate about whether these books and movies are appropriate for young women. Writer Mary Kassian has some interesting things to say not just about the movies, but about how young women ought to be conducting themselves in relationships with men in general. It's a great post!

True Woman Shedding some Light on Twilight

Another Birthday

With June coming to a close, another birthday has come and gone. For some reason, birthdays these days just aren't as exciting as they were earlier in my life. I used to look forward to being the center of attention, the object of celebration for a day. I was always excited about getting presents, and that still is one of the nice things about birthdays, even though my fascination with things isn't what it once was.

But one thing I loved about my birthday back then, about growing older, was that being older meant doing more things, having more privileges. It meant getting to go to school, being old enough to babysit, joining the high school youth group, getting a driver's license, graduating from high school, going to college. I don't think I'm unique in this.You felt that way about getting older at one time too. I guess my question these days is when do we start associating more birthdays with things we can't do? Why do we lose that sense that being older means doing more things, having more to contribute? Why do we start to think that being older means doing fewer things, contributing less, having fewer responsibilities? Do we start going backwards at some point?

The older I get, the more I understand what the psalmist meant when he said that our days are like grass, like flowers that flourish briefly, until the wind blows them down. Life happens fast, and it doesn't last very long. I used to look at my parents or other people when they were the age that I am now and think how old they were. At that age now, I feel like I'm just getting started, and I certainly don't feel old. There's definitely been a physical decline--it's much harder to lose weight now than it was in the past, and there's more that needs to be lost. I just got my first pair of progressive lens glasses because I'm finding it difficult to see things far away and close up. But mentally and emotionally, I feel like I'm better than I've ever been. I have knowledge, work experience, parenting experience--just plain life experience--that makes me a better, more productive, more useful, more confident person than I was back in my twenties. I have more to contribute to family, church, and work.

And that makes it all the more difficult for me to understand why people quit at sixty-five, when they still have so much to offer and so little time to waste. Social security allows them to retire from their jobs, but so many seem to quit everything at that point. And there are still so many needs, so much to do.  My parents "retired," but they moved from Ohio up to Michigan to help me raise Katie and Jonathan when I was a young widow. Henry's eighty-something mom, who still drives and serves as meal coordinator at her church, often goes to nursing homes to visit the old people.

Friends of ours recently told us they've bought a condo in Florida, and they'll be going there this winter, like so many of the other mature couples in our church. They've raised their children, their grandchildren are now grown, and, she told us, they don't feel like they have anything to do. And while we're having this conversation, our VBS coordinators are running around, begging people to sign up to help. The average age of our elders is getting lower and lower because the men with maturity who have finished raising their families and actually now have the time to take up such a demanding office are in Florida six months of the year, not long enough to serve here, and not long enough to serve there. These are the people who, because they aren't working regular jobs, should have time to teach Sunday school, lead Bible studies, visit sick people, and take up any number of services in the church.

On the positive side, though, it's wonderful to see the retired school teacher, now in her eighties, teaching VBS faithfully. I've also been told that, as an "experienced" widow, she shepherds the new widows through dark days, encouraging and sharing with them in their sorrow. She may not be putting in forty-plus hours a week anymore, but she's using her time well.

And that's what God calls us to do, as author David Roper (a mature person who has not retired his wisdom and abilities) reminds us: "As long as we have the light of day, we must work--not to conquer, acquire, accumulate, and retire, but to make visible the invisible Christ, and to touch men and women, boys and girls with His love. If we have done all these things, we will have done all we can do, and we can rest easy" (Teach Us to Number Our Days, Discovery House Publishers).