Easter

Easter holds some fond memories for me. From attending sunrise services as a family to working in the barn when baby cows were being born. This Easter was a new experience for me. It is interesting how life changes as you grow older. When I was a child I couldn't imagine an Easter passing when my mother wasn't dragging us kids out of bed before dawn to celebrate the resurrection of Christ. It has since happened and I kind of miss stumbling around the house in the dark with Gospel music playing (my parent's favorite genre), trying to dress warmly in my Easter best to stand on a hilltop with my entire family as the sun rose. It sounds picturesque now but as a 12 year old I couldn't have imagined at the time how much I would miss those moments 18 years later.

We are now making new kinds memories as my parents raft of little children have now become a raft of grown children and even have children of their own.

This past Easter actually turned out to be really different and pretty incredible as far as memory making goes. 

Three of my siblings and two of my nieces and I all got up before the sun and had breakfast around the table. (There was no Gospel music as others in the house opted not to attend the "sunrise service" and were still sleeping.) We ate a quick breakfast and then got our ski gear together and headed to the mountain where we rode the chair to the top. At this time the sun had well risen but it was still early. 

We congregated with other people outside the lodge where it started to snow some incredibly big flakes and the wind picked up. The Easter service is usually held outside from what I understand and they decided to move inside the lodge for the service. The place ended up being packed as we gathered to worship the  Risen Lord and listen to a sermon.

 I was really tired and didn't pay attention as much as I would have liked but it was a really touching experience. There we all sat in our snow pants and ski or snowboard boots, beautiful snow flakes coming down outside as I was surrounded by half my family and we united in spirit with other ski and snowboard enthusiasts to worship our Creator. Following the service we skied down, had breakfast at the base lodge and spent the rest of the day ripping the slopes. Other members of the family who needed to get their beauty sleep joined us after breakfast. I paused several times throughout the day to just take in the essence of what the experience meant to me. It was very different from the Easters past. Yet, it was still an incredibly memory I will cherish. The early pre-sunrise wake-up call, worshiping together, skiing fresh pow (short for powder) on Easter with those I love and hold dear...I don't think words can do justice to the emotion it evoked for me.

Later that afternoon after last chair had been ridden we returned home. My parents (the founders of the gaggle of people) joined us for dinner that evening and we all had cake and celebrated a birthday in the house. The whole day was pretty much perfect except for the absence of two siblings who were unable to join the festivities. 

I know we say in this American culture that family is everything but how many times do we actually mean it? How many times do we actually appreciate our family members for exactly who they are this very moment? How many times do we just bask in the wonderfulness that is being together? Now I'm blessed with an extra-ordinarily AWESOME family. Not everyone has that luxury. But with my amazingly excellent family it is still a struggle at times to love them and let things go, but I can speak from experience that it is so worth it. It is definitely worth getting over every argument I've ever had, any time I've ever been wronged, any time something hurtful was said and they have done the same for me. Contrary to popular belief I am not perfect. Shocker, I know.

So let me encourage you to enjoy this moment you have with whomever you are with. It is worth working through those moments when you would rather make funeral arrangements than give in but when you have a holiday like I just had when all of your favorite people you happen to be related to are willing and able to spend it with you it is a magical moment you will cherish forever...even when venue and age and style of the participants changes and brings new adventures and memories.

Pearls

Recently I have seen three situations where one person was not appreciated and valued for what they had to offer and the opposing party was misusing them and abusing their talents and giftings. All three situations are very different and have happened around the same time. One situation involved me personally and one involved a family member while the third one happened to a friend of mine. I was praying about these situations and this verse came to mind.

"Don't give holy things to dogs, and don't throw your pearls in front of pigs. They will stomp on the pearls, then turn around and attack you." Matthew 7:6

I think that this verse is a brilliant analogy of how important it is to guard what you have. Let's stop for a moment and think about how a pearl is made. It starts with something as insignificant as a grain of sand. Sand is pretty common and not a very big deal to you or me, but it's a big deal to the oyster. However, instead of letting the sand, or other irritant, cause it harm, the oyster covers it with beauty and grace and makes a smooth pearl. Think back to all those things you've learned from something painful or inconvenient or embarrassing that you have covered in grace and beauty and taken in stride. You haven't let it cause an infection or gotten bitter over them; you made a pearl. Now let’s take a look at your growing string of pearls. I don't know about yours but mine is coloured. I also have some different shaped pearls and as my string continues to grow, each pearl that is added is in perfect harmony with the one before it and the chorus of colours.

Now, let's take all that hard work, all those lessons learned, all the beautiful pearls you have and throw them into a pig sty. Pig sties are filled with mud, left over rotting food, and let's not forget all the manure your pearls will get trampled into! And then the verse says that these nasty pigs, after having no regard for your beauty and hard work and worth, will turn on you and attack you. No, thank you. (I have never liked pigs, and I think this verse confirms my desire to stay away from them.)

After experiencing some “pearls before swine” situations, I had settled in my heart to move on and keep my pearls safe if what I had to offer wasn’t valued. Since then, watching similar things happen to those I love confirmed what I had already decided. It is easier to gain clarity as an outsider watching a situation. So if you feel as though you are not being valued and that your worth is being trampled into the mud and manure, perhaps you should step back and analyze what's going on. Maybe it’s time to get out of that situation before the pigs turn and attack you.

Compliments

(This picture doesn't really have anything to do with this blog post. I just really like pictures and a blog post without a picture is really kind of dry. So here is an unfiltered, unedited, unphotoshopped picture I took on my phone. I really like it and I thought you might as well.)

"If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all." -Thumper

Yes, we've all heard it. We've heard it said on the Disney Classic Bambi, even our mothers have told us. But do we take the opportunity say something nice when there is something nice to say?

I believe in complimenting. I compliment frequently. As often as I can. But I believe a compliment should also be genuine. If someone has a haircut that I don't think is flattering at all I won't tell them I think it makes them look fab. But I'll pick something else I think that is lovely. Their necklace, their shirt, their smile. People hear far too many bad things in the daily grind. My one compliment in passing is hardly going to give someone a big head. And if it so happens that I complimented a person with an ego problem then that is their problem, not mine. I can't tell you how many times I've been at a cash register and just a short little compliment to the cashier changed her whole countenance and she started smiling and enjoying the moment we shared. It's kind of a life commandment now. I will always say what I'm thinking as long as it is nice. Sometimes, because I'm an observant person, I'll think "my that shade of green eye shadow doesn't do anything for that woman." That is where I will keep the thought to myself and then find something that is flattering and compliment her. It's amazing to watch people smile after they've been complimented.

Part of the reason I have developed this personal creed is due to a story my mother read to me when I was about the age of 12. She is a Guideposts addict. But sometimes it works in my favor. The story she read to me was about a boy who went to summer camp. On the way to camp he became annoyed with his mother as most teenage boys do. Moms aren't cool when you are a teenager. As I recall he said that he hadn't been very nice to his mother and as his parents were heading home they said goodbye. The writer said an off-hand goodbye but as his parents turned to go he decided he would give his parents a proper send off and gave his mother a hug and thanked her for bringing him to camp and walked her to the car. His mother was killed in a car accident while he was at camp and he was so thankful that his last words to his mother weren't those of a snotty teen but of a loving son.

I remember deciding at the age of 19 that I didn't want to live with any regrets. Since then that desire had guided the decisions I've made in life. I look at something and try to decide "will I regret doing this?" Or "will I regret not doing this?" I saw the sadness in the eyes of the elderly as they shared their regrets in life and didn't want to be one of them. That mindset along with the story has stayed with me and has formed my life to this day. One never knows when they bid someone adieu if that will be the last time they ever see their loved one alive. I don't want to regret my last words to my family and friends...and so I always try to make my parting words those of kindness and love. Have I failed at this attempt? Absolutely. I do feel however, that the instances that I've said goodbye in a less than cheery mood have been considerably diminished by my desire to live a regret free life and keeping a healthy respect for the end of life it's self.

And so I compliment. If the last person who sees me alive is the lady at the grocery story I want her to have heard something nice from me.

Holiday!

I recently took a three day holiday. I didn't realize that my last real getaway was in July. Far too long ago. I know most Americans only get two weeks paid vacation while our European counterparts get a lot more vacations/holidays. I don't know the stats off the top of my head but its a remarkable difference between those here in the states and those "across the pond." It seems like every time I turn around my foreign friends are going on another holiday while my domestic friends have one winter vacation and one summer vacation. My beloved European friends may not always be taking a week long excursion but hey I'd take four days away in Italy or Spain every couple months. We here in the good old USA work too much. Taking a few days away on a regular basis does so much good for the soul. Even now after being back at work in the daily grind I am still randomly smiling when I think about a couple weekends ago when I was on holiday, care free and enjoying the lack of schedule. It does so much for a person emotionally to change things up and take a couple days off. 

So I'm going to post some of the photos from our ski weekend away to inspire you to start planning your next sanity saving weekend. 

A picture speaks a thousand words so I'll let my pictures do most of the talking for this blog post.

We were so blessed. My sister and I met up with a friend of ours at Sugarbush and we had two absolutely beautiful days of skiing filled with sun, great bumps and even better company.

The Apre Ski was pretty great too!

My first Fro-Yo experience. I can't believe I been missing out on this wonderfulness all these years.

Start planning and get away soon!

Beauty vs Fashion

Today when I was listening to my favorite radio station, Air 1, the DJ was talking about an article that was in the Washington Post. It said that men in particular should be honest with their spouse or girlfriend and tell her when she doesn't look good. The DJ asked what our thoughts were on the topic. I thought for a moment. What I concluded was that we as people need to completely divide fashion and beauty and treat them as polar opposites.


Fashion is fun. It is a way to express our style and I think honesty is really important no matter who you are. We as women value the opinion of a close girl friend because we know that she will always shoot straight with us. I've had a friend tell me I shouldn't wear one of my favorite scarves because it makes me look washed-out. I am thankful for this opinion because now I know not to wear it if I'm trying to look my best. Since it's one of my favorites I still wear it but I pick the occasion. I have to admit my feelings were hurt a bit because it was my favorite and I loved wearing it all the time because of what it meant to me but in the end I got over the hurt and was thankful for the honest opinion.


However, I don't have to rely on just the female opinions in my family. My dad and brothers have no qualms about telling me they don't think I look my best. My dad always complains when I straighten my hair because he likes it wavy. (But frizzy and curly are pretty much the same thing to my dad so some times I have to put up with the complaints because there is no way I'm going out of the house with frizzy hair.)
 One time I asked my baby brother, who was 22 at the time, "do these pants make me look fat?" He didn't miss a beat and said "no the pants don't make you look fat your fat makes you look fat." Thankfully I was in a good place in those days regarding my self image and I laughed. My brothers are fairly fashionable rugged young men themselves so usually their opinion is valued. Sometimes when it comes to my brothers fashion opinion you have to take it with a grain of salt but I like that they don't say what they think I want to hear. And if they say "it's fine" I try not to read anything into it. To me fine means one step above ugly. To a guy "fine" may mean "it's all great." Try to get the people in your life to define what 'fine' means to them and then you can have an open conversation about how you feel when you've put 3 hours into looking nice and they say you look fine. Feelings are often hurt because you both have a different definition of the word.


Beauty is a completely different subject. My whole life I've heard my dad tell my mum how beautiful and gorgeous she is. I don't think a day has gone by in my lifetime when I didn't hear my dad tell my mum he thought she was amazing a beautiful. And it doesn't matter if she has her makeup and hot pants on or if she's in her barn clothes and has manure on her pants. He kisses her the same way no matter what she's wearing and says how blessed he is to get to share his life with such a beautiful woman. So that says to me that beauty is the thing that doesn't change. It's the thing inside that shows through the well quaffed hair and it shows through the weary sleep depraved raccoon eyes.


It has taken many a year for me to arrive at this conclusion but now that I'm here its well worth it. Beauty is the thing that makes people want to hang out with me when I just got off a night shift and forgot my makeup at home. It's the thing that invites someone to randomly send me a text just to say hello. It's the thing that stays the same and gives me value and worth whether I'm in my sweats or my party dress.

We All Suffer From FWP. Raise Your Awareness!

For the longest time I had no idea that I suffered from FWP. It turns out all these years they've been happening and I was just not informed. So the purpose of this post is to raise everyone's awareness and maybe make this world a better place.

Recently I was riding in a gondola cabin at a ski area and I'm usually quite chatty but today I was listening. So I listened to the other folks in the cabin talk about where else they usually ski. One lady said that they normally ski out west because they own a house out there.

 The other couple riding with us said that her sister owned a slope-side condo here so they frequently skied here but her other sister owned a place out in Colorado but they didn't like to go there as much because it was a couple miles from the mountain, it was not slope-side. At that point I couldn't hold it in any longer and I had to raise awareness of FWP. So as soon as they finished their statement and there was a moment's lull I said "wow, not slope-side? That sounds like a First World Problem to me." There was a little chuckle that went around the cabin. Shortly there after we all disembarked going out separate directions. The rest of the run I pondered what just happened. Seriously? We are all some of the privileged few who can afford to ski and we are complaining about it not being ultra-convenient? Here I was getting all jealous because the other people in the cabin frequently ski out in the Western United States and I'm still one of the privileged who is "skiing the east." I think all of us in the cabin needed a reality check. 

Shortly after that incident something else happened brought me back to reality. We were in the middle of a pretty intense windstorm. I think there was a little snow thrown in but the wind was so forceful this particular night that it felt like we were living a scant 20 feet from railroad tracks with the Amtrack express going by. I was awake at around 11 p.m. when the power flickered. I suspected that it might go out so I quickly plugged my phone into the charger so I would be all set. After all my phone was almost fully charged so I'd be ok. I would have ample means of entertainment tomorrow should the power go out.

 Sure enough around midnight it went out. By 7 a.m. the house was almost at 50 degrees. I was nice and cozy under my wonderful comforter. My sister came in to inform me that she was leaving for work, the kids were still asleep and that it was cold in the house so make sure when they woke up that they stayed in bed until we got the power back on and the house warmed up. I was laying in bed all pleased with myself because I had a fully charged phone. Then I realized my error. I hadn't drawn any water to flush the toilets and now I had to go. I hadn't drawn any water to drink and I was getting thirsty. Living in the north where the electricity frequently goes out my first thought usually is to draw water and get out candles and such. Nope, I had fallen into the self-serving mindset of what mattered most. My smart phone of course. As I lie in bed, thirsty and wondering what I was going to do soon when toilets needed to be flushed, I was reminded of the many people who don't have the luxury of first world problems. Ultimately the kids and I would be fine. If the power was out too long we'd pack up and go to my parents who have a wood stove so they were warm and could cook and melt snow if they had to.

So I started praying for those people who suffer from Third World Problems like not having access to water at all.  Some of them live in climates just as snowy as mine and don't have enough clothes to stay warm and they certainly don't have a nice down-alternative comforter like I do. Some of them don't have a car to travel to their parent's house should things get rough. Nor do they have parents. They died from some illness that would have been curable here in the First World or were caught in some civil war that leaves innocent villages decimated in it's wake. This list goes on and on.

I think if we take a moment to be thankful for what we have and pray for those who don't have a fraction of what we have been blessed with we might be just a bit more grateful. 

So the next time you poor a bowl of cereal and realize that you don't have any milk or your smart phone is being dumb you will be aware that you are suffering from a First World Problem. In my house when someone starts going off on some ridiculously benign issue someone pipes up and says "that's rough! Sounds like a First World Problem to me!" We all have a good laugh and it brings us back to earth a bit. 

Now that you know please do your part in bringing FWP awareness to everyone.

Moose: Are They From Earth?

Have you ever seen a moose?  

I have seen plenty.  It’s always so fun to watch someone see their first moose in person.  I remember being one of those people when I was eight years old.  It was cool.  Moose are rather ugly creatures in the spring when they are molting, and that’s when we saw it.  To be perfectly honest, I didn’t even know what a moose was.  I had never seen one on television. (When I was a kid we still had rabbit ears and the TV screen was about ten inches, so we didn’t watch a lot of it back then.)  I still remember my first sight of the moose. 

  My dad was driving and I was complaining that I was never the first to spot anything.  And then I saw it.  The long huge face with its ugly nose, and with long green stringy things hanging from its mouth.  I think my tears dried instantly and I said, “If it has a big, long, ugly face, I think I just saw one.”  My dad turned around and there it was.  Our first moose spotting and I, of the whole family of eight, was the first to spot the uninteresting, haggard, mangy looking creature.  We all stared at it for a while and then drove up the road to a place called Moose Alley in Pittsburg, NH.  Dad bought us ice cream cones from Moose Alley Cones, where the portions were huge and still are to this day.  My sister and I go up there in the summer just to get ice cream.  We don’t look for moose anymore.

Moose are annoying, clumsy looking creatures.  I say clumsy looking, but in actuality they are very coordinated.  They are gated and for being large, oaf-like characters they can clear a five foot fence as gracefully as a deer.  But in my opinion they are dumb. 

  I’ve seen them clear that five foot fence like they were stepping over a pencil, but then I’ve seen them walk through a three-stranded barbwire fence and take out three or four fence posts in the process, not blinking and eye or losing stride as they kept on walking.  Why on earth would you walk through a barbwire fence if you could just as easily jump over it?  Alien, perhaps?

Another example of moose stupidity (yes, the plural of moose is moose, not meese, as people thing it so clever to say): A moose came sauntering through our backyard and the little Chihuahua we had living with us at the time caught wind of him and started to chase him.  This thousand pound critter was scared of something weighing less than eight pounds?  Yet when they see a car, weighing in at more than twice their weight, they stand still and stare it down.

You know people refer to a deer caught in the headlights?  I don’t feel as though that is very accurate.  Most of the deer I have encountered while driving at night only stare at you for half a moment, and then they beat feet.  They get out of there.  Not always in the most concise manner, and sometimes they get hit, but you have to give them snaps for trying.  Whereas most of the moose I’ve encountered while driving, whether it’s day or night, will stare at you for about ten moments and then turn their head as though they are putting their finger to their chin to think, “Hmmm… there appears to be something approaching rapidly.  Is it bigger than me?  Should I stand here and think some more?  Should I step out of the way?  Wait, let’s look again.  What color is the vehicle?”  And at this point, he may do you a favor and meander out of the road, or he might turn and lead you up the road at a slow gated trot for a hundred yards or more before he decides that this isn’t a fun game anymore and gets off the roadway. 

  I remember encountering a rather daft moose one night as we were coming home from hockey practice in the backwoods of Vermont.  My brother was driving the fifteen passenger van and there was a large, bull moose perpendicular in the road.  At least, I think he was a bull.  He didn’t have any antlers because it was that time of year, but his head was at the height of our windshield and those old Dodge Ram vans weren’t small.  (It could have been a cow, as I didn’t think to check between the legs in the excitement of the moment. But cows are generally smaller.  This blighter was huge.)  So my brother hit the brakes and he couldn’t turn as the road was very slick and another car was coming at us in the opposing lane.  This moose stood talk still on the shoulder of the road, with his head hanging in our lane and only at the last minute did he ever-so-slowly turn to look at us.  At which point we drove right by, holding our breath and waiting for impact.  Had he not turned his head, it would have probably killed the person in the passenger seat because his head was massive and would have smashed through the windshield.  As it was, the mirror missed the side of his head by mere centimeters.  I looked behind us as we continued driving, and the moose was still standing there and didn’t even bother to look at this massive “beast” that just whiffed his eyeball.  Not the most brilliant of beings.  Could they indeed be from another planet that doesn’t have the same laws of physics?

I can’t tell you how many moose I’ve seen while driving that will leave their safety on the side of the road in a moose muck and run across the road to the other side.  Moose make no sense.  The joke goes, “Why did the moose cross the road?  I have no idea.” 

But it’s so much fun to watch a first-timer see a moose.  I once drove Lee Wilkof (look him up on IMDB) up to Moose Alley.  We didn’t see anything so we kept on driving.  It was the middle of the day.  We drove to the Canadian border, and on our way back we saw a cow with a two week old calf.  Lee was thrilled that he got a two-for-one deal. 

  It was fun watching his New York City excitement as he took a picture.  Seeing another cow and calf is something I could take or leave.  Baby moose are probably my favorite thing though, as far as moose go.  They are so ugly they are cute. 

  I’m not talking about fresh baby moose with all the gunk that needs to be licked off, but after that’s gone, I love the fuzzy innocence of a baby moose.

One day my dad came running into the house saying, “Grab your camera and hurry!”  He didn’t tell us why, but he was excited so I followed him out back into the woods.  He led us to twin calve moose that still had gunk on them. 

Their mother must have run off as we approached.  They couldn’t even stand yet.  So my dad, my mum and I got to witness their first few minutes in this world as they learned what it was all about.

We took a couple of pictures and watched as they learned to stand, and as they tried to walk and fell over.  We figured it was time to leave when they started staggering toward us looking for something to eat… and I wasn’t about to lick them clean.

We went back a little while later and the calves and the placenta were gone, so the cow had come back and cleaned up and took them home.  It was a pretty incredible experience, but as you can see from the pictures there are some alien-like similarities.

So I pose the question: was this an act of nature? Or did the mother ship drop them off and we got to witness the moments after entry to this atmosphere?  You decide.