Friday, August 17, 2007

WAXING NOSTALGIC...

I dare not speak how many years ago this day, I was ready to end the pregnancy. For only an elephant would have been expecting a child longer. It, like most of my stories these days, is a long one. Suffice it to say that, somewhere in the past year, I had had a miscarriage, and by the time the obstetrician detected that, I was pregnant again--also undetected.

Would this child be a little brother or a little sister for our firstborn? God only knew. We purposely took a bumpy ride up to Perseverance Theater to encourage the delivery. After all, another expectant friend (2 weeks past her due date) had announced to me that very day she was taking castor oil to induce her delivery. The race was on.

When my labor pains began, John and I ran for the phone book...not to call the doctor, but rather to come up with a boy's name. That's when the silliness started....but I won't bore my reader with that except to say that amidst all our giggles, the baby joined in...with the hiccups. The more bizarre the name, the harder the hiccup; the harder the hiccup, the more intense the nudge to be born.

Probably because in winter they needed to keep the steep hillside clear and sanded, parking was not allowed at the old Saint Ann Hospital. The climb from the block below took only moments. By the time, I was prepped for the delivery room, a chattering flash by my doorway returned to inform me "You better not be first!" In truth, I cannot say which of us delivered our baby girl first nor can I recall the family name. But somewhere in this world is a lady named Darian celebrating her birthday today.

And this day I will once again hold my daughter in my arms and remind her how very loved she is! And how much joy she has been in our lives.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PATRICIA KAY.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

LIGHTS ALONG THE SHORE.....

John and I just returned from a trip to the Washington coast; we spent time with three other Christian couples in a little-known RV park. After Friday's breakfast, John suggested he wanted to go into Westport to take pictures of boats. Everyone else decided to accompany him.

As we first entered the city limits, we spotted the top portion of a lighthouse towering over trees. Figuring that should lead us to some water, and perhaps boats, John turned left. However, when we approached the location, we could see that the lighthouse seemed to be in the middle of a forest. The road continued at least one-third of a mile with no water in sight. Turning around we did not stop to read the sign that was posted, so I drew my own conclusion (as I am prone to do). I decided it was not a real lighthouse but rather a restaurant or expresso structure.

Later, when the group decided to tour the local museum, I asked the lady who sold us tickets about the lighthouse in the woods not near the water. She told us the Grays Harbor Lighthouse is the tallest lighthouse in Washington State. It was built in 1898 and stood as a beacon for seamen for most of a century. However, silt from the Columbia River has changed the coastline, adding land in some places and subtracting land elsewhere. This structure of great pride is now more than half a mile from the shoreline. Later in our tour, we watched a video explaining the phenomenon further.

There is a hymn from my childhood (or maybe older) wherein God is our beacon, but we are the keepers of His lights along life's shore. Applying this natural phenomenon to life, I have been thinking about how each grain of sand that would distance one from the Father was so minute, no one would notice the change. I wonder how long and how far and how many grains of sand must accumulate before one realizes the perilous danger of being distanced from the Father. With the right equipment, one could dredge away the silt...but the better way is to live a pure and righteous life, unspotted from the world.