Simple Church, Simple Life

Today I went to a local pastor's meeting where the topic was Simple Church. There is a book by the same name which has become a driving force for renewal in certain churches in the Susquehanna Valley.

It was very affirming to be a part of the discussion in light of the dreams and desires the church street launch team that I am a part of has. Don't over program, do a few things, keep the focus the focus, be able to state your vision and do what you do with excellence and don't compete against yourself.

And then one of the speaker's shared about the similarities between running a church and running a business in the sense of if you have one or two products and produce them with excellence you will experience growth and success.

And it can carry over to life, also. At the moment, my life is anything but simple. Yet I experience a peace in knowing my focus and what I need to spend my energy on. My goal is to continue to whittle out the extraneous noise and chaos from my life. And I surround myself with others who share those goals.

Peace.

The Derm Wife gets Skin Cancer

Would you believe I have a basal cell carcinoma on my forehead.

And its a classic story along the lines of the shoemaker's kids never having shoes.

I have had this yucky, scabby, scaly thing on my forehead for weeks, maybe months. It started out small enough, but bugged me because every time I washed my face with any kind of loofah or washcloth, it would ooze and bleed. And of course I couldn't ever keep my hands off of it. Pick, pick, pick...

So what's a girl to do? Well, this girl would periodically ask her dermie husband what it was, that it looked weird and I thought it was something, but he said it was nothing. Actually, he called it a picker's papule, if there actually is such a term...and told me to stop picking.

In the meantime, it got bigger and I would ask about it periodically to be reassured that if I left it alone it would disappear.

Until I was in the clinic the other day, and in the course of casual conversation with the resident who practiced on my forehead with my last botox injections, I asked for a second opinion. Ten minutes later I found myself in an exam room, under bright lights and the subject of speculation by another derm as to the possibility of having a basal cell cancer, and walked out the lucky recipient of one skin biopsy, but not until the referral had been backlogged in.

This caused a little bit of discussion, "No way, that's not a basal cell..."

But guess what...it was. So now I have to go back for Moh's surgery to have it taken out.

Go figure. The staff derms miss the call and it was made by a resident.

The dermatologist's wife ends up with skin cancer.

At least it's the "good kind."

I have some other really intriguing stories to share, but they will have to wait.

Peace.

Our Girl Has Gone Home...

Baby Nadia, stillborn at 24 weeks.The following is copied here with permission from Laura, Nadia's mom. It is what Laura posted on her facebook page.



Her words, to me, reflect an amazing strength and faith that are inspirational. May we all pray for this family as they grieve their loss.

I'm hoping that most of you will see this if it's in a note.



If you didn't know I was pregnant, I'm sorry you're just learning now.



For the rest of you, I want to share the amazing events of the past couple of days...First, I want to say thank you to all of you who have been supporting us, either through prayer, or with your presence, I can't thank you enough. There really are no words.



This, like many pregnancies, came with it's own set of trials. Early on, I had been spotting and we thought we might lose our baby then. With lots of prayer we got our miracle, and by 20 weeks our precious little girl was perfect and perfectly healthy.



We were looking forward to another 20 weeks of a healthy pregnancy.



I had to have another ultrasound at 24 weeks because she wouldn't show her face, and the Doctor needed to see it to know if she had any special needs that might come up at birth. So all was normal and fine until then.



At 24 weeks, her heartbeat had slowed dangerously low. It hovered between 60 and 70 beats per minute, when it should have been twice that. It also stopped at one point during the ultrasound.



There were many things that could be wrong, but we needed to do some bloodwork and then see a specialist the next morning.



I went home with the knowledge that our best bet was to make it another week at least until she was just old enough to live outside the womb. She needed to make it to 25 weeks to even have a chance of living.



There was a lot of prayer for both healing, and preparing for the worst.



When we got to the specialist on the morning of the 24th, they started another ultrasound. Having had five with this pregnancy, I've gotten pretty good at knowing what to look for.



There was no heartbeat.



The tech was silent, and I did have to ask to make sure, but our sweet little girl was gone.



We both had a chance to cry and absorb the initial shock.



Justin's parents had come, as had my mom, who had been with me the previous day. They came back and we all sat and cried while we waited for the doctor to come in. We talked about our options, and I decided that I didn't want to wait to have my labor induced.



I went to the hospital and was admitted around 10:45am and they started the induction at 11:45. They had no idea how long it would take before she was born, but it could be later that night, or as late as Sunday. Only time would tell. We were gearing up for a long, greif filled process.



At 1:12 am, our precious Nadia Joy was born. She had already been home with the Lord for probably a day.



She was perfectly formed. She even had lines in her footprints already! She had blonde hair that you couldn't really see, but it was there. She even had eyelashes! She was 1 lb, 4 oz, and 12 inches long.



We had family and close friends there with us to meet Nadia and hold her. We were very fortunate to get to hold her and see her so perfect.



Those are the facts.



The rest of the story is the spiritual one. We are so blessed. We had so many people praying for us and with us. As hard as this is, God has given both Justin and me so much peace. I know that's what many of you were praying for, and God truly does answer prayers.



For me personally, this whole thing has been such a blessing. I got pregnant when the doctors thought I couldn't.

We had a pregnancy that lasted longer than we thought it was going to at first.

I got the experience of feeling my baby move and react to sounds, I've now been through labor, though I'm sure it will be different next time around, and I got to hold my little girl.



Justin got to see her grow in me, he got to feel her kick, and he got to hold his daughter. Both Justin and I are definitely grieving, and there are times that will be harder than others, but we both have peace that only God can give.



We don't have any anger about the situation, just frustration about not understanding.



I can speak for both of us when I say that we don't understand God's will and His choices, but we accept it fully. I can't even begin to express all of the peace and understanding and faith that I have seen in the past 36 hours. We now have an amazing testimony to the power of God's peace and the ways that He uses us.

We have already seen some of the ripples and changes that have been made in attitudes and actions because of this. I'm sure God will use this to change many lives that I won't ever know about. I have complete confidence and trust in my Lord and what He does, regardless of my understanding or lack there of.



One thing I realized this morning after coming home without our girl was something about how God must feel about His children. I was crying, and telling Justin that I just didn't understand how I could love someone so much in so short a time, and know so much about them without them knowing me.



I realized that God feels that way about us. He makes us His perfect creation, designed to love Him and have a relationship with Him. He waits expectantly for us to know Him, to be born again, and for us to spend our whole lives learning about Him and who He is as our Father.



When we refuse to have that relationship with Him, and refuse Him in our lives, it's like the stillborn child. Perfect in every way, created to love and be loved, and to spend a lifetime getting to know the ones who bore us. They just never make it that far. They are still loved, still wanted, and there are still hopes and dreams that we have for our children , and that God has for us, that will never have the chance to be fulfilled.



I am so grateful to have such a wonderful family and such wonderful friends who have stood with us through this, and will continue to.



I am also so thankful for our family who understands that this is the loss of a child, not a pregnancy. She has a name, a birthdate, she is an individual. She is still one of the grandchildren, or great grandchildren, the others will just never have the opportunity to play with her.



She will always be our firstborn, and she will always have a place in the family. I'm so grateful that the family shares this idea with us, and that they were there with us to hold her and mourn with us. It's an experience that has touched so many lives already, and I'm sure it wil touch more.



My prayer now is that God will use me to further His kingdom by my being able to point to all that He's done though me.I am so blessed to be thought of highly enough by my Lord to be used by Him to carry His little girl. That though I may not have had her for long, He let us share in a life that was too special for this realm. I'm so thankful that my girl didn't have pain, and that she didn't have to ever experience the pain of this world. I know I will see her when I go Home, and until then she is well.



As a friend's child said "oh good! God loves playing with babies!" God loves playing with babies, and who could take better care of mine than the one who created her.


Peace. We are praying for you.

Living in the Moment

Today was a glorious day of living in the moment. As all days should be.

And I am so glad to be home. Even if the cats have made a mess and the laundry (albeit clean) is out of control.

It was so nice to just be. Of course, the fact that it was like a summer day didn't hurt either...

Tianna had a softball game today and it was great to sit and watch the game with Howie, forget about real life for a bit and watch Tianna play while sipping on some great coffee.

As I was leaving one of the other coaches pulled up in his car, so I went over to say hello, but he gestured to the passenger seat, that I didn't see was occupied by my friend and I feel soul sister Gwen and it was just so wonderful to receive and give one of those hugs that conveys so many wordless emotions and feelings without saying a word, just through the powerful embrace and touch of another person who cares. We all need that.

Then it was an afternoon at Knoebels, a great amusement park with Nicole and her friend. I just lallygagged and they rode. I did treat myself to a ride on the humongo Ferris wheel and just enjoyed the sunlight and gentle breeze and lost myself in the simple pleasure of a ride for just a few moments. There were two senior gentlemen in the car in front of me; they looked like they were in their eighties, and of course reminded me of my dad...I wondered what their story was.

Then we visited my friend Dana who is selling jewelry to support crafters in India and we found some really fun things. And ate some good snacks, and drank great chai tea.

And the capstone event was a luau party for one of the outgoing doctors and we couldn't have had a better night...clear skies, balmy temperatures, great food and wonderful company. It's the first time in a long time I had a chance just to visit with the close knit group of people that Howie works with. One of the new incoming residents was there and she is someone who is a contemporary of Chris' and now starting as a first year Derm resident, so that officially qualifies me as feeling old.

But the funniest part of the evening was when several of the guys, including Howie put on grass skirts and coconut bras and posed...he even wore my great sunglasses, which the girls didn't even want me to wear. And they thought the glasses alone would be too embarrassing...

It was a fun, relaxed, joy filled day. The laundry will still be there tomorrow.

Peace.

More Sadness

Today I received more sad news. I learned that one of my regular readers' daughters lost her baby at 24 weeks.

Please pray for this family. I don't want to step into sharing their story, so will make my comments here brief. But I would like to reach out and have us all extend love, care and uplifting prayer to them.

They had gone for an ultrasound and discovered complications which were unexpected and ominous; today when they returned the heartbeat was no more, and induction and delivery were ahead.

This is tragic. And my heart aches.

Share love and joy always as you have opportunity. Live a life as fully without regrets as possible, and always fortify yourself with the knowledge that you love and pursue truth and justice passionately.

Peace.

More Sadness

Soaking up Peace and Sunshine

Today I am abiding and soaking up the beauty of the island, its peace and sunshine and hoping to capture enough of it to light the path in the coming days for whatever life has in store.

The keyword is "grace."

Grace to love and support others. Grace to pray for my enemies. Grace to respond to rewrites. Grace to grieve at a memorial service for my dad next week. Grace especially to help carry my mom without any words, just through loving her in the days ahead. Grace to cheer for Matt in his job searches without any interference or editorializing (I know that's hard to believe that I would editorialize!) on my part.

Basically grace in all I do and am. And that will require moment by moment abiding.

Matt did email that my mom had an "incident" last night. His words were so gentle and kind in describing what happened. She took Finn, Matt and Carolyn's dog for a walk and he didn't have his harness collar on, and he can lunge, especially when he sees other dogs. Well, he saw another dog, lunged, and took my mom down in the process. Apparently she has a couple of black eyes and a scraped knee...it could have been worse, but I also pray for grace for her response. I imagine this won't help her frame of mind...blame is still a pretty big part of how she responds to situations.

I told Matt that there is still a silver lining in every situation, though, and even this, and to not accept blame for a choice she made to take the dog out in the rain.

May we all learn from the experiences we have, both easy and difficult; I find the lessons are usually more intense as we emerge from the tough spots in life. I think that was what the Apostle Paul is referring to when he addresses perseverance...I seem to be having plenty of practice in that department! But I know I am not alone.

May you also feel the presence of God on your journey. Peace.

Done

Today I wrote the last four story revisions and now have a back log of reading for dear Connie to do when she gets back from her weekend away.

She has been my extra set of eyes, scrutinizing word choice, tone and even punctuation. She is happy to tell anyone that is because of her OCD. But she left early Saturday and I have produced sixteen more stories since then. So until I get them back from her I won't forward them to the editor.

I feel that I eliminated redundant topics and softened the voice and added more of an intimate invitation to spending time with God in my writing, so please pray with me that it meets with the Editorial team's approval. Of course, if it doesn't I will do whatever it takes to fix it, but this was hard work.

Writing is solitary and I am ready to be back home and with my family and friends again.

I fly into Newark Wednesday and will visit my mom briefly before going home. I spoke with her today and she really sounded awful. She does and doesn't want to stay in NY, does and doesn't want to come to PA, and basically doesn't want to live on without my dad.

She tells me she cries every night (I have been too) and night time is always the hardest. I am at a loss as to how to support her, perhaps simply listening and affirming her feelings are what is best for now. I am glad she isn't in the apartment by herself, yet she doesn't really seem satisfied that Matt and Carolyn are there either. It is difficult. Nothing is ever quite right and she is very negative. I can't fix it for her, I can only help her with the choices she has to make, but now apparently she has changed her mind about the apartment in Danville (who would want to live in stupid Danville, she says) that we put a deposit down on and were planning on renting starting in June. Perfect place, but only if she wants to come to PA. Now she says she wants to stay in the city....Yet the apartment makes her sad because all of my dad's stuff is still there. I am confused.

Random Thoughts

I'm coming down the homestretch of writing, and that feels good.

Yesterday was a slow day. I think every word I wrote got written syllable by syllable. It was arduous and solitary. Obviously I prefer it when inspiration strikes and the thoughts and words just flow. Today was more like that...

And I am now down to the last four stories, and only one of them needs a completely new story.
And then I will wait for feedback and tweak as necessary.

In the meantime my it also means my time in Roatan is almost up. I won't miss the bugs, which still bite despite OFF, but I know I shouldn't get Malaria since I am taking the meds, so despite being bitten I shouldn't get sick. Heaven knows I don't have time to get sick...

I will miss the tranquility, simplicity and beauty.

I will miss Kent, the owner's observations on life which included an impromptu gathering at a picnic table where we ate homemade pastels (I am sure I have that written incorrectly) yummy chicken stuffed baked tortillas that a lady walking along the beach sold. He treated me and all his helpers to as many as we wanted. The spirit of sharing, hanging out and a community of caring was evident and palpable. It was church...

I ate dinner tonight with Miss Peggy and three of the volunteers at Rotisserie Chicken, one of the few restaurants that is still around West Bay since the first time I came to the Island. Many others have come and gone. A wonderful full chicken meal can be had for $7. Great for the budget traveller.

Despite running away to an island off the coast of Central America, Nicole still managed to find me while I was writing this afternoon, courtesy of AIM on my computer. She has found a dog she MUST adopt on Petfinder.com, and this was brought to my attention while I am several hundred miles away from home.

The only thing that topped it was receiving a subpoena earlier in the week, but that's another story...

Matt applied for a job that his name written all over it, so if it is what is meant to be, I pray it be. It is a casting call for crazy, extreme sports, travel savvy and minded guys for an extreme activity/travel reality show. This is the kid that goes off of jumps made out of snow bigger than my house with a snowboard attached to his body, has surfed and snowboarded in NZ on the same day, worked as a water rafting guide, lived in a tent on the north shore of Oahu for a stretch and takes what I consider to be unreasonable risks, like flipping off of rocks into the gorges of Ithaca. Imagine how proud I would be as a mom to describe his latest job, risking life and limb on kooky reality tv. I hope he gets it!

And I missed the opening day of softball season yesterday, which made me sad. Tianna's team won.

I crave returning to a normal life, but since I haven't had that any time in the recent past I won't necessarily expect any miracles.

Live life to the fullest and pursue truth. It always prevails.

Peace.

Dream the Dream

If you haven't seen this, then you are in for a surprise. I am a techno wit, so don't know how to load the YouTube clip here and couldn't wait for my web gal to do it for me. But all you have to do is go to YouTube and search "Susan Boyle".

It is an amazing "Cinderella" story that also reminds me of my dad. He believed in dreaming dreams and always encouraged people to pursue theirs.

Take time to pursue your dreams and take time to share other's dreams with them. If I have a regret it is that there were times I was too busy that I didn't sit down with my dad, especially when he came to visit to just go out and talk, dream and listen. You can't go back and do those times over once the opportunity is lost. The choices I made or didn't make in spending time with him will shape my future parenting choices. I can't go back and re-do my daughter choices, but I can choose differently as a mom.

So back to dreaming. If you haven't listened to Susan sing, please do. You won't regret it.

The following words are lifted out of my friend Connie's blog, because she put it so well, and I couldn't agree more.

Susan Boyle is making the world stand up and "sing." The first time I watched her on YouTube, I immediately burst into tears and then got goosebumps throughout her performance.

Thank you, Susan, for allowing us all to dream, to believe, to hope, and "yes" forget for just a moment that we ever doubted ourselves.

Live your passion, Susan. You are simply amazing! You've won our hearts and for sure you will win the competition. No doubt about it. God bless you.

Quick Update and Truth Prevails

The quick update is that Honduran food finally caught up with me. I'm not sure what I ate, but I woke up at five and discovered that whatever it was didn't agree with me. I took a couple of Pepto Bismol and chased them down with Two Tylenol PM at five in the morning.

That was a mistake...I slept till noon and was horrified.

I only logged three of five stories today, and now am at a Pot Luck dinner at Miss Peggy's with a bunch of really fun volunteers who let me hang out with them. Most of them are about half my age, plus a year or two...

Anyway, today Mario stopped by when I was finishing up my writing. It was a real joy to see him. I met him two years ago when I was down here and he was living at an orphanage with someone who had set up camp "doing the Lord's work." Mario and his seven siblings lived in this orphanage until it's driector was rightfully and thankfully asked to leave the Island. Despite having his passport confiscated, he was still able to leave.

But truth and justice prevail. Today Mario and six of his siblings are living back with their mom and a group led by former house parents erected a house for them beyond their wildest dreams. For now it is the shell, but an amazing amount of work was accomplished in nine days and supported through donations.

In June Mario is leaving for the States where he will pursue an education in Culinary Arts.

It gives me continued hope that what others mean for evil God will turn to good.

Truth always prevails, it just sometimes takes time.

If you are in a challenging spot right now, keep going. Truth will prevail. It always does.

Peace.

St. Theresa's Prayer

St. Theresa's Prayer

May today there be peace within.
May you trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be.
May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith in yourself and others (And I would add faith in God).

May you use the gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.
May you be content with yourself just the way you are.
Let this knowledge settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love.
It is there for each and every one of us.

I received this poem/prayer today in an email. It was one of those that came and asked me to forward it to twelve others, which I admit to not doing. But I did read it, and its words resonated with me.

Peace within is a gift available to us all; may we choose it, even in sorrow.

May we absolutely trust that we are exactly where we are supposed to be and not try to force square pegs through round holes. I am particularly adept at trying to force things. I am slowly learning to surrender myself to being carried and dependent, and must admit it is a much more peaceful place (and a much smoother ride...)

Faith is critical, but in God first, not our own abilities to figure it all out. That's along the same lines of the square peg round hole bit. Have faith in truth. It prevails and that faith propels me in life.

Absolutely identify and use your gifts. Life life passionately. Share. Give. Love. Don't steal what isn't yours.

And be content with yourself, striving to see yourself as the beautiful child that God does. Don't be afraid to express your unique gifts and talents. And serve in humility.

And live a life of freedom.

Peace.

No Idol for Me

I have to tell the truth: I really wanted to watch American Idol tonight. At home we watch it together all curled up on the couch, but this spring has been so disrupted that I have missed much of it, including and especially the time with Howie and Nicole issuing our own opinions and speculating as to who will get the cut.

I don't have immediate access to TV down here, but was invited to join some of the clinic volunteers tonight who did to watch Idol. I don't even know who is left or who sang what. I had a busy day writing (finally made it through the Old Testament, (yippee, Praise God, hallelujah and every other form of rejoicing imaginable as my stack is getting smaller and smaller...) and never did manage to peek at the performances on the Internet.

Well, it didn't matter, as the power went out in the area where the TV was so plans were rearranged.

Which was actually better for my soul as I went to a Wednesday night praise gathering which really hit the mark. Like I said, my soul needed that.

It was an informal gathering, a bunch of us sitting around tables, some singing (no power to run the overhead, so if you knew the words, you knew the words, no big deal at all...) and then some great sharing, all translated into Spanish. I met some more great people who call the Island home, and was spiritually recharged.

There is a leadership group of YWAMers here and their leader is a cool German guy who shared a great message on Luke 5:17-25, the story of Jesus healing the paralytic.

So I have heard this story before, but in case you're not familiar with it it is the story of some guys (it doesn't say how many) who carry their paralyzed friend to the house where Jesus is teaching so that the paralyzed guy can be healed. It says that there were crowds of people, including the Pharisees, who were the religious leaders of the day. Anyway, because of the crowds of people, they can't get their paralyzed friend in to the house to see Jesus, so they somehow get him up on the roof and lower him down through the roof tiles, right into the middle of the room where Jesus is. Amazing.

So what the the YWAM leader shared were some thoughts about what these guys had that enabled them to go to the lengths they did to make sure they got their friend to Jesus.

First they had faith. They believed that if they got their friend to Jesus, he would heal him.

Second, they had compassion. They cared enough about their friend to make sure they got him to Jesus.

Third, they were pushy, in a good way (I love this). They weren't afraid to think outside of the box, and when they realized traditional methods of reaching Jesus (like through the front door) weren't going to work, they went to crazy plan B.

Through the roof.

Out of the box? You bet! Effective? Yes!

And they were precise; they had to know exactly where Jesus was to get their friend to him.

Then he talked about applying these principles in our faith life. The importance of faith, compassion, thinking out of the box, and precision, the right message at the right place and at the right time.

It blessed me.

Now, off to check out American Idol on the Internet.

Peace.

Sadness About My Dad

I have had a couple of really sad days missing my dad.

I have been receiving some wonderful recollections about him, three which are really special since they are from family members who I haven't heard from in years. My dad had a first cousin Vivian, who I remember with tremendous joy. She lived in the DC area and my dad and she were always close.

Vivian had two kids, a son, Robert, and a daughter Susan. Susan is no longer living, but her two children, Marna and Ethan, who I still have old Christmas photos of are. And I received really special emails from all three of them (Now I am going to cry again...) Apparently my dad made quite an impression on them and influenced them all in the area of art. What a gift.

Well, Marna sent along some fabulous photos, one of my dad kicking up his heels in the air while dancing back in 1951. He loved to dance. It is a marvelous photo. When I can get it saved separately I will post it. I sent it along to the people planning his memorial service. It just captures him so well.

There are other issues relating to my dad that also bring me much sadness. The individuals managing my dad's website have not contacted the family for information related to a tribute to him, yet have written information that reads as if they are the family spokespeople.

There is information which is incorrect, including the date of my dad's death.
There will be a memorial service at FIT on the 29th of April, and a scholarship fund is being established in his memory.

There is more, but that is for another day.

Please be sure to share your love with those you love who are still living. It is so important.

Peace.

For people interested in remembering my dad with a charitable donation, there is a scholarship fund being set up at Fashion Institute of Technology.

Mother Theresa and Roatan

Let there be no pride or vanity in the work. The work is God's work, the poor are God's poor. Put yourself completely under the influence of Jesus, so that he may think his thoughts in your mind, do his work through your hands, for you will be all-powerful with him to strengthen you. - Mother Teresa

Not too many people will argue against the work of Mother Theresa, whether they share her faith perspective or not.

I love the first sentence of her statement, taken off today's Sojourners Verse and Voice posting.
"Let there be no pride or vanity in the work." We are not in it for ourselves or our own recognition. We are in it to be conduits of love in the way the author of love intended for others to receive.

If I were to piggyback on to yesterday's thoughts, this is a good place to add them. If we seek to gratify ourselves, or gain recognition for ourselves in our work then we are totally missing the mark.

There was an orphanage on Roatan a while back that was simply bad news. Ill run, a self serving director and questionable care of some of the kids. Thankfully that individual is now gone, unfortunately he is in another part of the world operating the same scam.

But as soon as one leaves, another slides in. It makes me so sad. It would appear that there are people who in the name of Jesus fabricate or exaggerate needs and come swooping in with a rescue plan that makes them look like the good guy. In this case the good guys would be living in donor supported beach front property. A good use of donated funds? Is this what humility in service looks like? I doubt Mother Theresa would agree.

Just my two cents...

What Drives You Crazy?

I was thinking about this some today as a few things were getting on my nerves.

I will also clue you in on something. If something or someone is getting on my nerves, I am generally pretty vocal about it (remember, that type of thing cost me a book contract).

Today my pet peeve continues to be the inconsistency between stating one's faith and then living one's faith. There are many who tout the Christian life, or righteously refer to themselves as Christians, but have some inconsistencies in how they live. Of course now that I have even mentioned this I feel like it opens me up to criticisms of being judgemental.

That isn't my intent. I know I make mistakes, and plenty of them. But I think the issue of how we state our beliefs and how well we live them out is important.

The island attracts a lot of volunteer help, many of whom refer to themselves as Christians, so it is a good laboratory in which to make some observations.

I have already mentioned that Miss Peggy goes about her day in quiet, humble service. To me, that is living one's faith.

There are several volunteers down here in Roatan and it turns out one of them has a dad who is a prominent Christian author who writes all kinds of relationship rescue books and runs marriage retreats. But he is divorced, so that struck me as a bit odd.

There is a new organization coming to the island of Roatan that is seeking to set up a home for abandoned girls, except the majority of them live in slums on the mainland, and aren't here on the island.They are trying to raise a tremendous amount of money. But I guess a 2 million dollar building wouldn't be as nice in the foothills of the Honduran countryside as it will be looking out over the ocean. Just an observation.

Yes, I know my observations can come out sounding harsh, so I apologize for that, it is just perplexing to me.

There is a pastor on the island who is all about supporting family, but is charging his mother in law big bucks for rent.

Resting and Abiding in Roatan

I love Roatan for several reasons.

The beauty which has still managed to escape the prostitution of major development, the ability to live simply, the sparkling of the aquamarine water, the gentle breeze blowing off the ocean and the lush greenness accentuated by butterflies and hummingbirds all serve to soothe my soul.

And special people like Miss Peggy, who is a living example of humility and service.

All of those things combine to make this the perfect writing spot for me. I am able to leave the challenges of my life behind for the moment and compartmentalize myself in my writing world to recraft a manuscript so that it can honor God and bring hope to tired and worn out moms (I know a thng or two about that...)

I am in a place of rest, restoration and abiding which I pray will be expressed in the recrafted stories.

The manuscript I am working on is, "What the Bible is All About for Moms" based on the work of Henrietta Mears. Let's just say my first version didn't honor or do justice to God or Miss Mears and while many of the stories worked, they read more like downers.

But now I am in that surrendered place spiritually and abiding and restful place physically to hopefully be a better scribe for God.

Being in the presence of servant hearted people who live it and the expression of grace and humility also provide the perfect backdrop, and that is who and what Miss Peggy is and does.

Eleven years ago when she arrived on the Island, word got out that she was a nurse, and people with needs, which were many, started showing up on her doorstep, and her kitchen morphed into an impromptu clinic.

Over the years it expanded and now provides state of the art health care to both the local community and those who visit the Island. Please visit them at: www.clinicaesperanza.com. At the moment, the Economic crisis has also trickled down and affected them; they have two months of operational costs in the bank and only two days ago received their first donation of the year.

May you also find rest in restoration and the peace of abiding with God.

Lotus Club Dinner for Ralph Rucci

I had another lovely evening at the Lotus Club this past Tuesday evening. There was a state dinner in honor of American fashion designer Ralph Rucci.

The following was written by the curator of a show of his work at Kent State University, a place where my dad had also been invited to lecture and draw in the recent past.

"Steadfastly, Ralph Rucci develops his techniques and pushes his own boundaries. He is an idealist who aims for perfection. With intellectual rigor and a boundless love of his craft, he has risen quietly in the ranks of designers who matter. Since the inception of his label, Chado, in 1994, he has drawn a sophisticated international clientele that was expanded in 2002 when he began presenting Haute Couture in Paris. As the world begins to pay attention, Ralph Rucci continues to follow the core principles behind Chado, a Japanese tea ceremony that involves life-long learning, respect, grace and tranquility.
Impervious to fads and to the increased theatricality of the couture world, Mr. Rucci's work mirrors his peaceful and introspective ways and draws inspiration from a wide range of sources. Creative construction is at the center of his design philosophy, but he also pays close attention to the properties of fabrics and to the ideas of the talented individuals who surround him. His roots run deep. He stands on the shoulders of great designers such as Balenciaga, Vionnet and Grès, as well as numerous creators and artists. Whether he draws from his own art work or that of Renaissance masters, he has the ability to synthesize and actualize his sources to create understated yet intricate and highly individualistic collections.
The quality of Ralph Rucci's work is exceptional in both his ready-to-wear and couture garments. His trademark meandering seams and gussets allow for better fit and ease of movement and, like most of the hand processes he and his staff develop, are a great source of pride. While Mr. Rucci is well-known and admired throughout the international fashion community for his impeccable garments, the Kent State University Museum exhibition represents the first major public display of his work. Join us and see what happens when technique, impeccable fit and quality unite with originality, clarity and joy. Look beyond the ordinary and experience the majestic, the serene, the subtle universe of Ralph Rucci."

Anne Bissonnette, Curator

My parent's neighbor, former Joffrey ballet dancer and international choreographer, Margo Sappington came with me and helped me appreciate a snippet of my father's world.

My other guest was a former student of my dad's, Inge Poslitur, who had come directly from an award ceremony in Albany. I know my dad would be so pleased at her accomplishments.

As the chairman of the Art Committee of the Lotus Club, Audrey Amdersky introduced Mr. Rucci, she paid a wonderful tribute to my dad. It was very moving, and I did cry. At the last Lotus Club event, my dad and I had planned to attend these functions together, which I would have so enjoyed.

I continue to meet his amazing friends. One couple, the Thompsons, were familiar in name to me. My mom and dad had been invited to attend a Christmas afternoon tea with them, which I am so thankful they opted out of to be able to join us in PA. I know my dad wanted to go since he had made the commitment, but I assured him they would understand his desire to join family for Christmas (which they did). It was another gift...to meet them and tell them how much my dad had wanted to join them and was honored by their invitation.

I look forward to stepping into my dad's world and getting to know and love him more.

Peace.

My Honduran Office

I am back in my Honduran office. I have now successfully (I believe) compartmentalized my life and have donned my writing hat and sunglasses.



I arrived uneventfully yesterday and did get marginally organized. I had a fleeting panic attack when I couldn't find my revised MS introduction and had to email my editor to send it back to me. Pathetic.

I am in Roatan, my haven and heaven.

Before the bottome dropped out of the US economy we had invested in a beachview condo at the blue bahia resort here on Roatan. Check it out at www.bluebahiaresort.com. It is rented this week until Saturday, (one of two of 26 weeks it needs to rent to carry itself, so much of our savvy as business investors...) so in the meantime I am staying with the amazing Nurse Peggy who started a medical clinic here on the island in her kitchen eleven years ago. It is like Grand Central Station...but none of it involves me (except for my propensity to get drawn into conversations...) so I am chugging along. Saturday I will relocate to our little haven which will not have the amount of traffic through it.

So currently my office is an outdoor picnic table overlooking the aqua seas and it is warm. I have organized my manuscript and have four to five stories to recraft and revise each day. They were too edgy. I feel the sharpness as I am now re-reading and re-writing them, and again am in a much more dependent and surrendered place and hope I can communicate that softness of hope and being carried as I re write. Please pray for me to this end if you are a praying person, or even if you are not!

I am singularly focused. There really aren't interruptions and what makes it so necessary for me to so totally remove myself from my stateside life are the multiple commitments and roles I have there, which are slowly being whittled down.

It is the simplicity of life and its rhythms that are so appealing to me here, not to mention the beauty and weather. If I can't write here...well, never mind.

May you find peace and beuty in your day regardless of your physical location.

Travelling Connie Style

I have officially joined the world of the light travellers. Connie is my teacher. She taught me everything I needed to learn on our recent European escapades. And I don't need to pack curlers! Ha! I have naturally curly hair...yeah!

I went to WalMart and bought the same rolling backpack that Connie used. It has three outside pockets and holds a lot. Especially if one is travelling to a warm climate (check) and one has curly hair, negating the need for curlers (check).

There are several tips that work well:

• Layer, layer, layer.
• Consolidate medications in one bottle (as long as you can remember what's what...
• Use plastic baggies for everything.
• When you have only carry ons, then your liquids can't exceed 3 ozs.
• Wear your hat, carry your important documents on your person.
• Make copies of your important papers and carry them separately.
• Ditch what you can...

I brought everything I needed here for two weeks in one rolling backpack and one Vera Bradley back pack that doubled as my computer case and purse. No checked bags, no fuss, and free hands. A marked departure from all the stuff I lugged to Europe. I brought two boxes of Girl Scout Cookies, a delicacy down here, so I already have extra space!

I also learned from Connie the trick about making oneself smell beautiful by stopping in to a bath and body store and spritzing some of their sample eau on. The only problem was, this morning when I spritzed, I spritzed body wash instead of eau and it was really sticky. Then I put my pillow (Yes, I still travel with a pillow...) down on the ground where it picked up a bunch of dust bunnies that then stuck to me everywhere I had spritzed myself. I smelled good, but looked like I had been feathered.

I am still in a hog.

Honoring My Dad Continued...

I love that I am stepping into my dad's world. I hate that it is because of his death. Let there be a lesson in this. How much more meaningful would it have been to share the experiences of his life and world together? But then again, that was what the dinner at the Lotus Club was the end of January, and what so many of our experiences together were when I was a child.

I have complained over the years (now living comfortably in a small, rural town) that my childhood was so not what kids enjoy...play dates, activities (I remember begging to take ballet, a classmate from elementary school danced in The Nutcracker with American Ballet Theater every year, hardly your typical dance lesson scenario) and typical kid activities. Yet only now I am I truly recognizing and honoring the rich elements of my childhood and unique experiences that have helped the master potter shape me into a unique and beautiful piece.

Often, in telling of my upbringing my adult friends have only heard about the negatives...but there are so many positives, and as I have been sharing some of them, that albeit may have made me more adult-ish at a young age, people are truly surprised (with smiles) at what I share.

I grew up the daughter of an artist. As such I was raised in an environment where beauty and creative magnificence were noticed and honored. Travel was emphasized (my love of travel dates way back) and I have had the privilege of visiting art museums...and those became my playground. Museums and opera. Hardly typical haunts of kids, at least suburbia or country kids, but not all that unusual for city kids. Those experiences have enriched me in incredible ways.

At any rate, Friday night I was able to go to the show opening at The Society of Illustrators where I really did get to enter and honor my dad's world. The art was beautiful, the people self assured and creative. I even got compliments on how I was attired, and from a group of fashion aficionados, well, let's say it was an honor. (Chicos pink jacket to the rescue...).

And the evening with Matt is a memory I will cherish when we hit bumps in our relationship that are an inevitable part of mother-son interactions. After the opening, we walked uptown along Lexington Avenue and stopped at a restaurant where he had gone with Carolyn for her birthday to have some beyond fabulous Tiramisu. Imagine, I was just in a part of the world that specializes in this, and didn't have any, but now back stateside finally did. And it was delicious.

As was the evening. Delicious. Live your life in gourmet fashion.

Peace.

Honoring My Dad...

Today was a sweet day...but I am so totally beyond bummed that I forgot the camera at home and didn't bring it into NYC with me...I am going to be dependent on others for photos of today's special event.

Tonight I went with Matt to a show opening at the Society of Illustrators that my dad had two pieces in. It was beyond fabulous...so many people had such generous and heartfelt praises of my dad, it was very sweet...and so many familiar names, both of people there and of those whose work was hanging.

But it is late and I hate the keyboard I am typing on, so I am going to sign off. More later.

Peace.

Sunlight, Sonlight

Sunlight. Rays of hope. And powerful beauty all around.

I preserve this image, and keep the image of light, to illuminate my path ahead of me in the days ahead.
We arrived home uneventfully (uneventful is always a plus) on Tuesday evening.
Being a people watcher, I was intrigued by a story that was about to unfold for someone else as we got off the airplane. Two security guards were waiting for someone who had been on our flight...I finished that story a hundred different ways in my head. Connie and I have more stories in our heads; enough fodder for some great fiction...

My house looked like it should have been condemned when I walked through the door, and I could smell the fact that we own cats, who apparently had also been eating food that didn't agree with them.

I don't have too much time to recoup and turn around, as I will be in NY for a couple of different events over the next few days and then leave next Wednesday on a writing retreat to re craft major story elements of a manuscript I turned in about a month ago. Prayers coveted in this area...but I have peace about the writing that is ahead.

I miss routine; I know Howie never in a million years would have imagined I would say that, but it is true. Softball practice, dance, even laundry, which I hate...but those things are all being pre-empted by matters of taking care of my mom and honoring my dad's legacy, which has had some interference. Sigh.

But I know from where my light shines, and it will guide and carry me. May it be so for you also.

Peace.