Following His Directions

The light snow we got last night and this morning set my mood for some Christmas baking for the neighbors while Dean was gone to his day program. Actually, I had this baking scheduled anyway for today, but the snow just made it seem more appropriate to the season.

I ended up making three batches of fudge, only two of them were planned. They were very easy recipes with simple ingredients (my two criteria for baking and/or cooking these days). First some chocolate fudge (first time using the microwave method), and then I made some peanut butter fudge, using the stove. The peanut butter fudge set up so well, compared to the chocolate one, that I decided to do a makeover with the second bag of chocolate chips I had on hand, with much better results.

It was my own careless disregard of following the exact directions the first time that caused the first fudge failure. And although the second one wasn't as firm as the peanut butter variety, I was much more pleased with the final product.

This was a reminder to me of the wisdom of following God's exact directions when it comes to my life. The closer I follow His recipe, the more satisfying will be the outcome.

Love Thy Neighbor

Yesterday afternoon I thought it would be nice for Dean and I to visit some of our neighbors and bring them a belated Christmas card and "family newsletter".

One of the families was new to the neighborhood. I was somewhat nervous about Dean's presentation, but he had shaved off his beard and mustache for me for Christmas, so I thought this might be a good time for the introductions. He didn't look as wild and wooly as before The Shave, so we bravely ventured outside and enjoyed the last of our unseasonably warm weather.

It was nice to touch bases with these families who live almost on our doorstep, but who really live such separate lives. It reminded me of a neighbor we had a few years ago. Even though they were right across the street, I had no idea that she was a caregiver too. She took care of her mother.

I only learned about her challenges and isolation when she was hospitalized for a nervous breakdown. It was stressful and traumatic for the whole family. Her brother, who lived somewhere else, had to step in and attend to the business of selling the house, putting their mom in a long term facility, and finding some mental health assistance for his sister.

All this family drama happened right across the street. I should have been there for them earlier, but was too wrapped up in caring for my own. Her story, when I finally learned of it, inspired me to be more proactive in helping other caregivers. It's so important to reach out to others for help. Caregivers must learn to take care of themselves, in addition to their loved ones.

God created human beings as social creatures. We were designed to be with each other, to care for each other, and to love each other. And the whole purpose is to equip us to have a relationship with our Creator. In taking a tiny step in knowing my neighbors, I pray I can stay connected with them, but more importantly, I can grow closer to God, who doesn't need a card and "letter" to know ALL about us.

My best Christmas present ever--a clean-shaven husband (he did keep a little "soul patch" though).

A Greater Power

Last week after lightning from a thunderstorm split a big tree in our neighbor's yard, Dean and I were both shocked to see the downed tree taking up her whole back yard. What a blessing it didn't land on her house!

But she was at wit's end as to how she was going to get rid of it. Dean, an ex-logger, immediately offered his services in cutting up the tree for her and getting it stacked as firewood that she could sell. Even though his power saw hadn't been used for about fifteen years and was buried in the far recesses of our garage, he didn't see why he couldn't come to her rescue and do the job.

The neighbor and I, and I'm sure anyone else who knows Dean very well, had our doubts that Dean could ever accomplish such a feat. Dean at 67, with a brain injury and dementia, who can't even put his own socks on any more and falls on a regular basis--chopping and stacking firewood? It seemed laughable, improbable, and totally unthinkable. But we humored him, knowing that chances are he'd forget about it by the next day and it would never happen.

Nothing more was said about it for a couple of days. Imagine my shock Saturday night when he announced that he had a busy day the next day. I asked what he would be doing, and he said, "I'll be cutting up that tree, that's what!" So Sunday morning he put on his jeans, work gloves, hat, and began the search for the chain saw in the garage. He finally managed to resurrect it from its greasy, dusty grave, began feeding it with oil and gas, and patiently pulling on the cord to start his reluctant forest friend.

I had a weekly blog to get out that day, but had to take intermittent breaks to check on Dean, who was alone in the neighbor's back yard, trying to start his poor, tired saw. I could hardly concentrate, thinking about him falling and lying over there alone with multiple lacerations on multiple limbs--not the trees', but his own!

My mechanic son-in-law assured me that the saw would never start, and we were counting on that to keep him safe. It was so sad to see him trying so hard to complete this one last logging feat though. As much as I dreaded hearing that saw start up, I found myself almost wishing it would, so I could see his face light up with joy and his hefty arms once more take up the saw and apply it to the wood all around him. We were both being transported back to another time, another decade, a newly married, young couple in the Montana Bitterroot Mountains.

But alas, it was not to be. As the day wore on, he finally allowed the saw to be taken over to our son-in-law's garage to see if he could perform some magic on it. But his final diagnosis for the saw was terminal. Dean's precious last link to his manhood is resting in peace once again in our garage.

Fortunately, Dean is taking the loss well. Our neighbor informed us that she has found someone to cut and take the tree, and Dean will never know whether he could have tackled the job or not. In actuality, his saw saved him from knowing...and saved him from getting hurt. I think I'll be hanging on to that power saw. It's a symbol to me of that Greater Power that we can rely on to get the job done, one way or another.

The Saw

my cowboy, logger, truck driver husband and I--sometimes I miss him

The Jesus Way

As we entered a store today, my daughter noticed that a lady had some things on her cart that were about to fall off. As a matter of fact, it looked like she was never going to get her items to her car the way they were loaded, without some assistance. So Kayla offered to accompany her to her car and help hold the items while the lady pushed the cart. I, Grandma "Anya", was there to watch the two little girls till she came back.

No big thing, but I was particularly proud that Kayla was observant enough to see someone in need and not hesitate to do what she could to help. I was also glad to see the good example she was giving my granddaughters.

Later in the day, a neighbor called and wanted to know if I could run her up to the garage to look for her missing bank debit card. Of course, helping her out was not an option, if it was in my ability to do it. I thought about Kayla's earlier good deed, and had to smile at where she got her kindness and compassion for others.

I guess she's been seeing it and doing it all her life. It's the Jesus way.