Pink March Sunrise

The sunrise this morning was a beautiful concrast to the fresh dusting of snow. (This was the view out my kitchen window a few minutes ago.) Just a few days ago the temparature was in the 60s (F)! Our spring snows always melt quickly, so it won't be cold long. My crocus bulbs are blooming. Yeah, spring!

Rachel, middle of my three granddaughters.

Granddaughter

Here is a poem I wrote when my first granddaughter (Alicia) was two years old. It also seemed fitting for my second granddaughter (Rachel) at two. Now I will have to wait a couple of years to see if this poem fits Laura. (I always thought I would get a poem done for grandsons, but so far I haven't managed to get it done!)

A miniature of perfection,

Spontaneous warmth and affection.

Such delicate sweetness,

Inhibition not her weakness.

Excited. Curious. Playful.

Each expression so delightful.

Always asking, "Why?" "Why?" "Why?"

Sometimes pretending to be shy.

Reading books and singing songs.

Constant chatter all day long.

Lots of hugs and lots of kisses.

Buttons and bows on her dresses.

Ice cream is her favorite treat.

What she hears, she will repeat.

Filled with magic and with wonder.

Barefoot all throughout the summer.

Perhaps I have been beguiled

By this two-year old grandchild.

(c) 1998 Marlene Depler

Here's My Lunch, Lord

To my Readers: Here’s something I wrote (and published) several years ago. It seems applicable to me once again today. I need this reminder everytime I feeled stretched to the max! Perhaps it will also resonate with you.


I awoke this morning feeling overwhelmed at all that I needed to accomplish today. I felt as though I didn't have enough time or energy to do all that I needed to do. I felt inadequate for the tasks at hand. I absolutely had to finish my college class assignments and prepare the lesson for tonight's meeting. I was confident that all the things I was currently involved in and committed to were things that God had lead me to do. I had already learned the valuable lesson of saying "no" when necessary. I hadn't been procrastinating, but a multitude of tasks lay before me, needing to be accomplished.

"God," I cried out on the pages of my journal, "what do I need to know and understand?"

His answer came back immediately, "I know how to bless the loaves and fishes. Bring Me what you have and trust Me to multiply it and make it enough. I will be with you, and you will know that it was by My strength and not your own."

Refreshed by this reminder, I began the day, but my mind kept wandering back to what I had "heard" on the page. I thought of the little boy in the New Testament that gave his meager lunch to the Master, and what He accomplished through something small and insignificant. Jesus had taken one little lunch and turned it into more than enough to feed a hungry crowd. It was all the boy had to offer, but Jesus multiplied it into a bountiful picnic for thousands.

Later I remembered how as a child I was ashamed of the sack lunches I took to school. At lunchtime, I held my sandwiches, often mashed beans on crumbly homemade bread, under the table because I was so ashamed of my noontime fare. I did not want the other children to see what I was eating. (Today if I had mashed beans on a tortilla, I would have a burrito! But this was before I had ever heard of tortillas or burritos!)

Sometimes I even threw my lunches away and endured the remainder of the day with a grumbling stomach. From my perspective, my lunches did not compare to the lunches of my fellow students. They had enviable little bags of chips, sandwiches on brand-name bread, and store-bought cupcakes. I was not so fortunate. I even had to reuse my paper sack. Each day I would carefully fold it and take it home to be used again the next day. After awhile even the sack became cause for feelings of utter humiliation. I was never proud of my lunches.
Somehow what I had to offer today seemed much like the meager lunches of my youth—not good enough. However, today I offered my pitiful little lunch—all that I had—to Jesus and believed that He would use it and make it sufficient.

As the day draws to a close, I am filled with gratitude. God helped me to accomplish what most needed to be done. Most of all, I am grateful for the wonderful lesson that he taught me. He only desires that I give Him all that I have, presenting it at the foot of the cross and believing that He will multiply and use whatever I bring. If I offer Him all I have, then who I am and what I bring to the Master is enough.

(c) Marlene Depler

It's a girl! Laura Marlene, my sixth grandchild, is here!

The Waiting Game

Wait! Wait! Wait! We spend much of our life waiting for one thing or another. At the moment I am waiting for the birth of my sixth grandchild! I’m both excited and anxious.

At the moment—while I’m waiting—I’m thinking about all the other times in my life that I’ve spent waiting: in traffic jams, in line at the grocery store, on hold on the telephone, in the waiting rooms of doctors' and dentists' offices. (It's kind of funny that they are actually called waiting rooms!)

I've waited on innumerable occasions to pick up my children from school, little league, ballet, piano and voice lessons, swimming lessons, etc. I've waited for wash cycles to finish and cakes to bake. Each summer I wait for the first ripe tomato. I often wait for flights to arrive or depart. I've waited for company to arrive, and on rare occasions, for company to leave. Then there’s the time I nervously waited for the doctor to give a report on a CAT scan on my mother. I waited during a quadruple heart by-pass surgery on my father. And this only scratches the surface in my lengthy repertoire of waiting.

We start the waiting game early in childhood. We wait for birthdays, Christmas, and to be old enough to go to school. Ironically, when we start school, we then wait for the final bell so we can go home.

We wait for summer. We wait for supper to be served. As young girls, we wait to be old enough to wear make-up, jewelry, and high heels. We wait for our parents to think we are old enough to date. We wait for the day we get our driver's license, and then for high school graduation.

Then we wait some more. Many wait for a good job, for love, for their first home, and perhaps for children. When the babies come, we find ourselves waiting for the day when they are finally out of diapers. On exceptionally frustrating days, we may even find ourselves waiting for our children to grow up. Then when they do, we wait for them to come home. Amazing how that is! Before long we are waiting for retirement. All of our life is spent waiting for something.

We wait for many other things that may be less obvious; yet, they are no less important. We wait silently for an apology or for someone's behavior to change. Approval and appreciation—for that too we wait. We wait for our prayers to be answered. Many wait for the romance that seems to elude them. Others wait for a wayward child to have a change of heart. Some wait for a promotion at work, for opportunity to knock, for the proverbial ship to come sailing in, and for dreams to come true. Maybe you are waiting to win the lottery or the sweepstakes. Just don't count on winning the Reader's Digest sweepstakes. That's the one I'm waiting for!

What are you waiting for at this moment? As for me, I'm waiting for my dress size to shrink. I’m waiting on a package that was supposedly shipped two weeks ago. Then I'm also waiting on publishers and editors to respond to manuscripts. Yes, I spend a lot of precious time playing the waiting game.

The truth is that we will always be waiting for something. Since that's the case, we must learn to live and enjoy life fully while we wait. If we are always waiting for something before we can enjoy our lives, we may end up missing out on the life we were waiting to live. We must remember to live life in the meantime—while we are waiting. Life is not around the next bend in the road or over the next hill. Life is now—this very moment.

Isaiah 40:31 "But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles, they shall run, and not be weary, and they shall walk and not faint." NIV

(c) 2006 Marlene Depler

It's what's for dinner---Spaghetti Steak!

In The Kitchen

“What’s for dinner?”

For over 35 years, this has been the daily question. I’m not alone. Women throughout the ages have asked themselves the same question. And if we aren’t asking the question, our families are certainly are.

Thus, we barely clean up the dishes from one meal before we start thinking about what to cook for the next. Add to that the shopping time and preparation time—which then leads to a continual cycle of more dirty dishes. Is it any wonder that we sometimes get a little weary of the never-ending process of “kitchen duty”?

Yet when we think about our kitchens, they are central to family life.
Much more happens in the kitchen and around the table than the feeding of hungry tummies. Hearts are also nourished by conversation and laughter. Stories are shared. Blessings and prayers are spoken. Birthdays, graduations, and holidays are celebrated. Families connect and reconnect. And have you noticed how family and friends all inevitably congregate in the kitchen?

I loved the bustle in both of my grandmothers’ kitchens. After we helped pluck the feathers off the chickens, Grandma N. fried up a huge platter of chicken. Put that with her homemade brown bread and some veggies from her garden. You couldn’t beat it! Especially, if she made a cake with brown sugar frosting.

Grandma H. made the best homemade dill pickles. She canned them by the half gallon. And it took a whole jar per meal by the time all of the grandchildren made trips through the kitchen to snitch. And who could resist her blackberry cobbler and biscuits? Grandpa would loving tease her about the biscuits, “Elsie Lorene, it looks like a cow stepped on these biscuits!”

When I was raising my children, they did their homework, worked on projects, shared snacks with their friends, and played games around the kitchen table or at the kitchen bar. As soon as they walked in the door from school—you guessed it—they headed for the kitchen.

Now my grandchildren often join me in the kitchen. We bake together. They color in coloring books or play with Play-Doh. We play games. The kitchen table becomes a fort. My youngest grand-daughter often builds a “cozy home” under my kitchen desk. And at the kitchen table, I teach my oldest granddaughter to sew.

From my kitchen, I’ve made meals for sick friends and for funeral dinners. I have pulled fresh baked bread or cookies out of the oven just in time for kids just arriving home from school. I have brewed mullein tea for coughs.

It’s where my husband reads the newspaper. And it’s here I often sip steaming coffee or tea with a friend as we share our lives and encourage each other. Today my writers’ group will gather in my kitchen to fill mugs with hot, herbal tea and to eat cranberry-apple muffins before we get down to the business of writing critiques.

Now and then I need to be reminded of the importance of life in the kitchen. Its legacy is far beyond its size or the occasional clutter—and has little to do with gourmet recipes, fancy dishes, or designer decorating schemes. The kitchen’s legacy is the family and friends that have been blessed as our hands serve and our hearts extend love and warmth.

Yes, I still must answer the question “What’s for dinner?” As I do, I will remember to cherish all the rich and wonderful history that has transpired within these walls. I’ll remember everything from the warmth of hot winter meals to the refreshment of cold summer beverages. I’ll remember the family and friends that have graced my table. I may loose my culinary joy from time to time, but for today I’ll count my blessings as I face with the daily-ness of cooking and doing dishes.

My kitchen: tis’ a blessin’!

Bless our hands and hearts, O Lord,
as we prepare “daily bread” for our families
and nourish the hearts of those we love.

(c) 2006 Marlene Depler

New paint

Love those stripes!

Construction Zone

In an attempt to bring a fresh look to my kitchen and an upstairs bathroom, things got worse before they got better. Clutter and chaos defined my world for over three weeks. Ladders, drop cloths, painter’s tape, wallpaper scraps, paint brushes, rollers. Shades down from windows. Furniture moved and covered.

What I thought would be a relatively simple project turned into hours of grueling work. First, the wallpaper in the kitchen and eating area came down inch by inch—literally. It seemed everyone had some idea on what would make it come down more easily: spray enzyme, steamer, etc. Nothing helped all that much.

After spending more than 60 hours at this task, I called in the “professionals” to help me finish. They got the wallpaper off all right! They took it down to the bare drywall! So now the walls needed retexturing. On top of this their precious enzyme had messed up some of the wood work.

In order to buy some time while the kitchen walls were fixed, the painting began in the laundry room which is right next to the kitchen Once the soft grapefruit yellow covered the laundry room walls, my painter, Kaki, and I moved to the upstairs bathroom. I painted the ceiling in the front part and the back section with two coats of pink. The color was out of same paint can, but because the lighting was different, the back part looked more like a fresh bottle of Pepto-Bismol. The ceiling in the front looked like soft pink flannel. Kaki used a white wash to tone the back half down.

Then when she started on the sage green, off-white, and pink stripes in the sink area, I moved to the kitchen to put primer on the fresh texture. Day after day I worked from morning until night. Even with some help, this project was far more than I had bargained for. I kept trying to envision the end product, telling myself that the grueling labor and aching bones would eventually be rewarded with pretty rooms.

Finally, we were rolling paint in the kitchen, and I was pleased with the light yellow and French blue accents. The end was in sight. On the morning Kaki and I put on the finishing touches, I breathed a sigh of relief! We were finished. Now the workmen just needed to come back and spray lacquer on the woodwork.

They did. However, when they pulled the tape around the wood off, they took paint off along with it. I was close to tears! More work! The next morning, I got the paint back out again to do the touch up. Now I am really finished, I thought.

I still need to frame some pictures and hang towel rods, but it feels great to have the mess behind me. As I reflect on the process from the inception of the ideas to completion, I know that I don’t like what happens between those two points. I don’t like the mess. I don’t like the hard work. Isn’t this the way we often feel in our journey through life?

My youngest daughter has a baby under construction, due in about one month. She would attest that the process from conception through birth isn’t easy either. Yet I know she and her husband will be filled with awe and delight when this little miracle is placed in their arms.

We all encounter numerous times in our lives when we enter a construction zone of some type and hard work precedes the goal. College degrees, a solid marriage, careers, personal growth, raising children all require trememddous energy and effort. As we pursue the things that matter to us, we must hold on to hope in the midst of the mess and the chaos, trusting that the end result will be worth our aching bones or our aching brains or our aching hearts.

(c) 2006 Marlene Depler

A look in my rear view mirror! 

A Backwards Glance

“Look where you are going!”

We have all been told that from time to time. It’s important to keep our eyes focused on what is right ahead of us, especially when walking or driving. Otherwise, we may walk into a wall or step out in front of a car. Or we just may drive off the side of a cliff. It’s also prudent to look ahead and make plans for our lives. However, once in awhile it is wise to pause and take a look backwards—to reflect on where we have come from and where we have been. Most of us are easily consumed by forging ahead into the future, failing to pause and reflect on the journey thus far.

In the Old Testament, God told the Israelites to build a memorial of stones to help them and their children look back and remember God’s faithfulness in parting the Jordon River for their safe passage. (Read Joshua 4:4-7.) It may not be necessary for each of us to build a literal memorial or to make sure others understand our passage through the past year. Nevertheless, before we attempt to move forward, we would all do well to remember where we’ve been in the past twelve months.

What challenges have we overcome?
What difficulties and losses did we face?
What prayers were answered?
What relationships were strengthened?
What new friendships were forged?
What books were read? Was one of them a particular blessing?
What new things did we try?
What lessons did we learn?
What memories were made?
What guests passed through our doors?
Who befriended or encouraged us?
What projects were started? Completed?
Where there unexpected blessings or kindnesses that came our way?

As I look back on my year, I am grateful that I finally got over a cough that lasted nearly two months. I remember the scare with my dad’s heart attack and subsequent quadruple heart by-pass. I’m thankful he survived and regained his overall health. I recall the heart-wrenching good-byes to a daughter, her husband, and three little grandchildren as they left for Bosnia. Somehow I survived. I especially remember the handful of friends who mourned my loss with me. How I treasure their comfort and support!

I learned how to use a digital camera and write a blog. I delight in the memory of the extraordinary wild flowers near Steamboat Springs. I reflect on my joy over the announcement that a new grandbaby was on its way. I think of the few articles that were published and the exciting opportunity to write devotionals for a Bible that will be out later this year. I recall with joy the trip my husband and I made to Bosnia to see our far-away family and celebrate two birthdays while there. I think of the time Alicia and I spent on a couple sewing projects. How fun to pass on what I know about the art of sewing to another generation.

Yes, memory by memory, I figuratively build my own memorial of where I’ve been. I attest to God’s faithfulness, affirm my resilience and growth, and extend compassion to myself for the difficult days. In doing this, I am then ready to look forward—to anticipate the journey of a new year.

Have you taken the time to look in the rear-view mirror or glance over your shoulder at the past 365 days? Take a few moments to ponder the past year before pushing full steam ahead into the coming year.

*Note: Yes, I suppose this should have come before my last post! But I guess I am a little backwards in my thought processes of late.

(c) 2006 Marlene Depler

New things for my kitchen: prints to frame, rugs, etc.

Another Trip Around the Sun

2005 is nearly done. Ready or not, here goes another trip around the sun.

As the New Year stretches out before us, we wonder what the next 365 days will bring. We may thoughtfully begin to make some plans for the next year, but we also realize that each trip around the sun brings with it an element of uncertainty—the unknown. Does this stir anticipation and hope in you? Or a twinge of fear? Maybe both.

In spite of the uncertainties or challenges that may lie ahead, there is something wonderful about blank calendar pages. Each little square opens up endless promise and possibility.

With this new beginning, many feel compelled to make New Year’s resolutions. Yet most of those well-intended resolutions to whip ourselves into shape end up discarded before we even turn the calendar to February.

Why is this? Often we set such global goals, so huge we can’t possibly keep them. I will exercise every day for an hour and loose 50 pounds in two months. Yeah, right!

Or we make resolutions so vague we can’t assess our progress. I will spend more time with my family. How will we know that we have achieved this?

One way to insure success with resolutions is to make them things we KNOW we will or won’t do anyway. For example:

Iwill not dye my hair red.
I will not eat liver.
I will not dust my house more than once a week.
I will love my grandchildren.
I will water my flowers, come summer.
I won’t stab anyone!

With these I’m guaranteed to succeed!

Or we can choose just not to make these yearly commitments that seem to sabotage our best intentions. For me, instead of resolutions, I reflect on my hopes and dreams. I ponder the things I value most. I consider what plans and purposes God may desire for me. Then based on these, I set a few small manageable, achievable goals.

Things like: I will schedule a time to teach my granddaughter how to use her new sewing machine. This works better for me than simply saying, “I will spend time with my grandchildren.”

OR I commit to removing my kitchen wallpaper and getting a bid on painting. If I succeed in this, there is no doubt that I will take the remaining steps to give my kitchen a much-needed face lift.

OR I will market at least two articles during the month of January. This feels manageable. And once I have done this, I will no doubt take another step with my writing.

I’ve found that I am energized by even little accomplishments. Success in small things is the impetus to move on to other things. Bit by bit I head in the general direction, I think God would have me to go, knowing full-well that he may take me on a few detours along the way.

Your calendar and my calendar are mostly empty pages at this point. May we accept the adventure of a new year with prayer for guidance, wisdom, and strength. Then take at least one step toward our hopes and dreams. As we make our yearly trek around the sun, may we also make it 365 days around the SON!

(c) 2005 Marlene Depler

My recent aquisitions of pink---along with the pink bulbs that grace my Christmas trees some years.

A Touch of Pink

A few days ago, I purchased a light pink turtleneck sweater. Later that day, I was given a handmade pink scarf. What a beautiful combination! My newest earrings have pink beads on them. The new little journal from a friend is pink. Some years I even decorate my Christmas tree with pink tulle and pink bulbs! (This year it's red and gold.) All this reminded me of something I wrote about the color pink:

Color my world with hues of pink.
Sweet pink frosting on cookies and cake,
strawberry ice cream,
fluffy tufts of cotton candy,
pink lemonade served over ice
quenching summertime thirst,
clouds streaked pink on either horizon.

Weave pink threads into my world.
Pink candles, pink ribbons, pink soaps—
bold or pastel, dark or light , muted or bright,
it doesn't matter as long as they're pink
Color my world with pungent geraniums
and sweet roses—of course, in shades of pink
I cannot imagine my world without a touch of pink!

(c) 2001 Marlene Depler

The Nativity

My Christmas Prayer

This is a prayer I wrote at Christmas time several years ago. It is still my prayer each holiday. At this time of year, the tendency for most women is to do too much---to expect too much. I hope that this prayer reminds each of us to keep things in perspective this year.

Dear Father,
Still my anxious heart and rumpled spirit
in your divine presence.
Release me from the self-made prisons
of my unrealistic expectations.
Help me say "no" when I need to
without feeling guilty.
Let me feel joy when I am able to say "yes."
This year with your help, I will not fix,
rescue, or control those around me.
Show me what is truly my responsibility.
Help me remember that it
isn't my responsibility to make everyone happy.
Let me honestly acknowledge my needs and my feelings.
Give me the wisdom to know how to take
care of myself in a healthy, nurturing way—
for it is only then that I can truly give
to others from a full heart.
May I enjoy all the simple pleasures around me
and fully recognize the intangible gifts
that are given to me not wrapped in holiday paper.
Give me a glimpse of the eternal.
This Christmas season I choose to rest
in your goodness and love,
and to rejoice in your Son—
the greatest gift ever given.
Oh, Lord, let me experience Christmas
in the true sense this year.
Amen.

(c) 1998 Marlene Depler

Chocolate with Green Tea!