always good. . .

Last week in New York, we had a morning excursion to Skaneateles.  Living in Texas, a state with city names like Nacadogches and Gonzalez--I love to say Skaneateles; the locals say "Skini. . .Skineateles".  Imagine that?

Nathaniel and John biked around Skaneateles Lake while Abi, little Florence and I poked around the village, got coffee and sat on a bench beside the lake.

"Did you ever think that one day you would visit your children in far away places and experience different family cultures?" Abi asked me.

hmmm, I never thought about it much then, but now I do-and I evaluate my responses.

 Sometimes  the unease of change and difference give me a window into my own heart. . .it's stretching and good-when I choose to remember that God is up to something good in my life, always.

travel snacks and peanut shells

We drove 550 miles on Wednesday, from Missouri to Ohio- our longest travel day. 

And at the same time Abigail and Nathaniel were driving from North Carolina, home to New York with little Florence; we planned to meet the next day in Syracuse. Abi and I texted,  comparing travel notes: 

 in our car I was knitting, navaigating by map, reading to John; I'd accomplished a good phone conversation with a friend in Michigan.

 in their car Florence had slept a bit but awoke sooner than expected; she'd eaten her snack- what next?

John and I remembered all the travels with our kids, road trips in the VW van, in and out of Mexico, Texas to California. . . 

Remembering. . .Why did I buy 2 kilos of peanuts in the shell from the Mexican market before a road trip?  What a travel mess, all those peanut skins and shells stuck to little bodies and everywhere else.

Florence is a modern, civilized baby- she eats fruit snacks from a  little bag when she travels--tidy, but not quite so tasty.

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my favorite picture of Florence taken by her sweet mom

ministry sharing

Tuesday night I was sitting in a motel room in Missouri when Jamey called me from Texas.

She had a coffee date that evening with a woman neither of us had met- a woman who is a relative of sweet friends from our Bible study back home.

I had been praying for Jamey and the meeting. . ."It went really well!"

She befriended the woman, gave her a Bible, shared grace and truth with her, opened a door. . .

One thing I love about personal ministry is that sometimes you get to share it--even from a distance

a well tended garden

We're on the road, headed to New York, Ohio, Tennessee, to visit those we love. . .and more.

Last month I surveyed my tangled and unkempt garden and concluded that inorder to have a thriving garden, a woman must stay home.

So- thinking about our summer plans, a 4 week road trip in the States followed by 2 weeks in Mexico City, I planted a tiny succulent garden in a green dish-succulents just may thrive untended.

Then I thought of the sweet relationships that I will renew and tend this summer. . .and then the ones left behind in south Texas. 

Friday night I shared with the girls in our our community group-I miss you when I'm away-and I pray for you. . .

Now, don't forget me!

heart like deep waters

One complexity of personal ministry is that it's-well, so personal.
 I make it that way. . .and like it that way;  sometimes I struggle to give God the burden.
The other night I tossed in my bed, "This was a hard day." I told John.
"How so?"  (he always phrases the question that way)
 I just need him to remind me that Jesus gives hope to broken people in a broken world. "The best thing we can do right now is pray (and sleep)." he tells me.
Last week I was reading Proverbs 20 and again I stopped here:
The purpose of a man's heart is like deep waters but a man of understanding draws it out. (Prov 20:8)

So, I thought for awhile about the woman whose husband is loosing his hearing; he seems withdrawn and non communicative and she's frustrated, fearful.  How can this truth apply to her?
And I thought about myself and the woman who began to share a deep thing. . .how I jumped in with assumptions and answers before she finished.
So, the human heart is deep, but a woman of understanding listens and skillfully draws out what's in the heart.
Lord, make me a patient, compassionate woman-a woman of understanding.

to honor Him. . .

On Mondays I survey the horizon of my week and usually there are  pursuits that seem more pleasant. . . others not so pleasant, more like obligations; I may say in my heart, "I wish my husband would do that one!" . . .not because I can't do it, but I'd just rather not.
Last week I sat in my white armchair, correspondence and anticipated reading on one side, a volcano of papers from an emptied file drawer on the other side-the great divide!
Really, I just need to buck up and do this-it's a small matter; dread overwhelmed me, dread that I'd waited too long to accomplish the business chore at hand.
I needed tenacious resolve. . .but I needed more-
I have set the Lord continually before me, because He is at my right hand, I will not be shaken. (vs 8)

Lord, here I am, shaken. . . I don't know how to honor you.
over and over I set the Lord before me- and always, He is faithful.

connections

The old Schwinn hangs in our garage. . .
when I was nearly a teenager, Mom and Dad Fortlage bought the tandem from the bike shop on Santa Cruz Ave. Growing up, I wasn't much a part of the tandem legacy, but my brother and sisters have lots of great memories.  Somehow the Fortlage tandem made its way to Texas.
So-the family came to town over Memorial Day.  Jeremiah brought a carload of bike accessories, including a shiny new wheel for the tandem.
Saturday morning we ate breakfast tacos at the park and biked on the Riverwalk extension.  There were 10 bicycles, 2 bike trailers, 2 strollers with babies, and the tandem..
 Really, you need herculean legs to peddle the old Schwinn-  it works to pull a baby or 2 in the trailer.
We're building bicycle memories around here. . .and I love the tandem connection.