Foundations of my writing life

I distinctly remember my Dad getting frustrated in trying to help me with my bookkeeping homework in high school. I am not sure how I ended up in the business curriculum instead of college prep. I clearly was not cut out for it.

More importantly, it is healing to think of all the ways my Dad encouraged me in my writing and photography.

He kept a handful of my writings from elementary school. He provided a camera for me at a young age and set a good example of documenting our childhood with his own SLR camera.

When I started writing a blog as an adult, he printed out my many blog posts and kept them in a binder. He made a copy of the handwritten prayer I read for a Thanksgiving dinner.

He often remarked that my photography was better than his, but I think he was probably much better at the technical aspects of getting a good exposure with a camera that required manual metering.

And he extended to me the invitation of writing obituaries for Mom and him. He mentioned it often and suggested I should write it ahead of time because perhaps I wouldn't be in a good frame of mind to do so when it was needed.

When I knew Mom's passing was imminent, I began thinking about it, but didn't write it until after she passed. Dad often remarked to me how much better it was than so many others he had read. He never again mentioned writing his ahead of time, he was confident it would be good.

What a privilege to be entrusted to effectively capture the essence of one’s life and to honor ninety plus years of living in a few paragraphs.

Thank you Dad, for all the ways you encouraged me in these things.

From the last lines of his obituary...

"The story-teller has fallen silent. His many years of family record keeping have been passed on to the next generation. And another of the “Greatest Generation” has passed on, with the invitation to those who follow to carry on the good fight."

Timelss resolve

155 years ago....a timeless New Year's resolve, from the diary of my great-great grandfather Loren Webb... He was in Minnesota at the time.

1 January, 1864

New Years Day, January 1st, 1864 This is the coldest day I have ever experienced. Mercury is 36 degrees below zero. I am at Hamline University still. I attended watch meeting last night and blessed be God, I was enabled to adopt some good resolves for the future and by the help of Divine Grace, I will mark this year with a greater growth in Christ and more work for the salvation of man. My heart is awakened to the great object of life. I thank God I am his. I am ready and willing to become what God wishes and go where he directs and perform his will. These times do I read and pray and the Word is growing sweeter and sweeter.

https://lorenwebb.blogspot.com/.../12/1-january-1864.html...

What a bold commitment of surrender.

Clear-headed

As we think about the year past, and into the year ahead, may we have uppermost in our minds, that every day brings us one day closer to Christ's return.

The apostle Paul admonished the church in Thessalonica to "be on guard, stay alert, be clearheaded..." To me, being clear-headed infers focus and intentionality in listening to and following God's leading. May we be implementing practices that clear our hearts and minds of distractions and put us in a place to hear.

"But you aren’t in the dark about these things, dear brothers and sisters, and you won’t be surprised when the day of the Lord comes like a thief.[b] 5 For you are all children of the light and of the day; we don’t belong to darkness and night. 6 So be on your guard, not asleep like the others. Stay alert and be clearheaded. 7 Night is the time when people sleep and drinkers get drunk. 8 But let us who live in the light be clearheaded, protected by the armor of faith and love, and wearing as our helmet the confidence of our salvation."
1 Thessalonians 5: 4-8 NLT

Decluttering

There’s nothing like changing residences to make us even more aware of our abundance, even our excess of possessions. This past fall I had the unique experience of moving from the residence where I had been house-sitting for the last six years, with a major portion of my belongings boxed up in storage in the basement. As I unpacked them in my new residence, I quickly became aware of how much my priorities, lifestyle and tastes had changed in six years. 

Having a new place to live has given me a fresh perspective, like a blank canvas waiting for a new interpretation of what I would enjoy for a living space. My living room sat empty for almost two months during which time I had the joy of finding furnishings and accessories that worked well together. 

I even decluttered my Christmas decorating this year. There’s the small Christmas tree with just the lights and no ornaments, and the nativity I inherited from my parents, the plastic figures and the hand-made        shelter, the single light in the back. Sometimes at night I turn out all the lights but that one in the creche. It’s that little space of quiet at the end of the day that stirs up gratitude in my heart that His love compelled Him come to us, bringing light and hope into our broken lives. 

The decluttering of my physical environment has made space for something better, but it has also reminded me of how much emotional and mental clutter can take up too much space in our minds and hearts. Maybe it’s a worn-out worry, or the excess baggage of regret, resentment or unforgiveness. 

Unlike the wise men who brought treasures to the Christ child, we have nothing to give him, except our hearts, our broken, divided, cluttered hearts. But indeed, that is what He wants, that is why He came.

How well I know, decluttering can seem so big and overwhelming that I don’t want to start. In those times, I tell myself, “one step at a time,” with the realization that it is a life-long process and habit. Decluttering the heart has the added challenge of setting aside our many distractions, especially cell phones and to-do lists.

But just as the empty room or the blank canvas invites something new to be created, likewise that quiet space in our day, even 10 minutes, and a willing spirit is the means by which the Master Artist begins regenerating our hearts. We lay before him that clutter, a problem to be solved, a difficult memory, an unrelenting regret, a nagging feeling we may not even be able to name. And we invite him to speak life and hope into that space. 

“No matter what feels beyond fixing, One came from beyond the walls of this world because His heart is fixed on you, and you are loved far beyond your wildest hopes and deepest needs.”*

The song I’ve had on replay recently is “Here’s my heart, Lord. Speak what is true…” **

At Christmas and in all the days ahead, let this be our simple prayer,  “Here’s my heart, Lord. Speak what is true.” 

*Ann Voskamp

**Chris Tomlin

Take care of yourself and leave a legacy

Have been thinking about how my parents' generation and my own came to rely on pharmaceuticals and OTC remedies for whatever ails us. Thankfully, awareness of better alternatives is growing.

My Dad was always physically and socially active into his last years. He never watched television and that probably extended his life. He used to say that he just wanted to stay around long enough to take care of my Mom who struggled with dementia. When Mom passed away in Sept 2013, he missed her deeply but he still seemed driven to persevere even though I'm sure at times he had to push himself. Shortly before Mom passed, he had bought a big zero-turn mower and seemed to get a kick out of it. He not only mowed his own yard but a couple of neighbors' yards too.

Both of my parents relied a lot on pharmaceuticals. Then Dad had an awakening. He had been under the weather and wouldn't come out of the house when his friends called. One of the neighbors took it upon himself to just go in the house and check on him and then insisted that he was taking my Dad to the hospital. That's when it was discovered his blood sugar was super high. He was in ICU for a while getting stabilized. I'm so grateful for the neighbor taking that initiative because it is likely he would gone into a diabetic coma or died.

On discharge he was prescribed insulin injections and my brother and I were with him that day when the home health care nurse came to show him how to do the injections. It was New Year's Day.

Shortly thereafter he announced that he was going to get off the insulin and maintained tight control of his diet. He used to pooh-pooh my ideas for alternatives but this time he was open to a couple ideas that would help control his sugar. 

Then he took up an exercise program at the age of 92. Since it was winter he started out walking back and forth between the back of the house to the front door and gradually built up to doing that 50 times more than once a day. Then he bought some dumbbells and put in some extra arm movements when he walked. He was off the insulin within a few months. I distinctly remember him telling me that his vision, energy, mood, and sleep were all greatly improved. 

Maybe I get some of my determination, perseverance and passion for a healthy lifestyle from Dad. I'm grateful.

Thank you Dad, for your tender care of Mom and for taking care of yourself and giving us more treasured time to spend with you.

War of words

The escalating divisiveness and incivility among us is weakening our nation. A house divided against itself cannot stand. We could be seen as engaged in a civil war with words where no one truly wins.

We desperately need to learn (or get better at) diplomacy, civility and effective conflict resolution. Granted there are no easy answers to our complex issues, but all the name calling, personal attacks and incivility is just making things worse. The more engaged we are in that, the more divided we become and the less able we are to truly listen to one another

I'm sure there are others much smarter than me who could explain what has brought us to this point. Perhaps it’s partly to due to our culture of individualism versus community, or perceived threats of losing what's important to us, and/or a driven-ness to grab whatever we can for ourselves at the cost of what's good for the whole. And increasingly we see evidence of a lack of moral compass, an "anything goes" culture.

For some of us, our behavior is indicative of our personal unmet needs and unresolved issues. How well do we truly know ourselves and what is driving our unhappiness or anger or retaliatory behavior? What has contributed to our worldview and how open are we to seeing weaknesses or flaws in that worldview?

Jesus tells us (in Luke 12: 51) that division is inevitable. But he also preached in the Sermon on the Mount that "God blesses those who work for peace, for they will be called the children of God." (Matthew 5:9)

Maybe this Independence Day we can give more consideration to our own role in this mess and how we might reach across the dividing lines.

Photo from re-enactment of Battle of Good's Farm, The Civil War. Re-enacted at Hale Farm and Village, August 2017.  Heartbreaking to watch and imagine the great suffering.

Print your digital photos to preserve your memories!

When I look through my collection of favorite family photos, I think what a gift it is to be able to capture that one moment in time, now preserved for decades to come. This bit of photographic paper I can hold in my hand carries with it the power of memory, inspiration, and gratitude for the richness of life. A collection of photographs tells the stories of our lives, who we are, where we came from, what contributed to who we are now, what is important to us, where we are going.

Most of us have great photographs stored on our phones but few are printed, which limits their accessibility and preservation of memories. I say all this to advise you to make it a habit to regularly print at least a few of your favorite photos.  Otherwise, those precious memories will be lost forever.

Thankfully many of our ancestors went to great pains and expense to get formal portraits done on a seemingly limited budget. One of my prized photos is an exquisite portrait of my Grandfather Webb Hester as small child being held by his mother.

Beyond the formal portraits, the snapshots of daily life always bring back wonderful memories. My Dad did a good job of documenting our childhood and many of those photos still bring a smile to my face. Then as a young adult I became the unofficial family photographer and began capturing snapshots and portraits of all my family members.

Now that both of my parents have passed on, I’m so grateful for the photos I captured of them. One afternoon my parents were bragging about how they could still fit into clothes from many years past so Dad put on his Army jacket and Mom put on her wedding suit and that’s when I captured one of my favorite photos of them.

These photos were taken on film back when my nephews were little guys. It started out with them just sitting on the front steps at my Dad's house. In the frame before this, I got the idea to have them pose as the three monkeys - hear no, speak no, see no evil. It took a little trial and error but we eventually got it (sort of). 

This series always brings a big smile to my face...