Seasons of Friendship

When I moved out of my parent's home, my first housemate & I couldn't have been more different, one from the other. I was the wacky artist, teaching an alternative population & out to save the world. She was an orderly professional, on an upward climb in Congress. (Our 3rd housemate kept us from killing each another.) When our lease ran out, we eagerly went our separate ways, though mutual friends kept us in contact.
Once or twice a year, my family makes a pilgrimage "home" & to my continuing amazement, if we see no other friend, we always get together with her family. Funny how people grow & change. Marriage, children, work & of course, age have a way of shifting one's priorities. She & I don't keep in touch all that often but we are there for one another (as best as the 500+ miles between us allows).


Friends are often apart for varying seasons. Mature friendships understand & weather these times. As those seasons grow & wane in my own life, I always hear Linda's voice in my heart. "The true measure of a grown-up friendship isn't how much time you spend together, it's that you can pick right up where you left off when you do see one another".

Selective Memory

No longer welcome where once I watched, I sat on the corner of the pond up near my home. It was still quite dark & the bare, street light, once hidden in a tangle of trumpet-flower vines, glared overhead. I peered into the darkness across the shore, but the bench could not be seen. My best images of it are in my heart, but it is vaguely seen to the right of the swing in this shot.
Alone this morning, I could have easily slipped over undetected. I chose to stay where I was & lose myself in happy memories. For many years, & across all seasons, I sat on the bench praising, praying, visiting & of course, fishing with my son. It was a favorite place for me to watch God paint the morning sky, His colors mirrored on the water. My final memory there was shared, morning laughter over warm, blueberry muffins & coffee. What fondness this memory brought to me as my heart returned to those times!...It briefly crossed my mind that I had been chased away so much, this could not have possibly been my last time there...I chose -quite purposefully- however, to rewrite history & leave my final moment there, with a beloved friend...
How poignant & ironic that upon my return from work this evening the familiar railroad-ties were gone. How amazing that the Lord should draw me over for the last sunrise the bench would see.

Change or Control?

As you know, I've been wrestling with a lot of change in recent months. New neighbors put up boundaries towards the lake which drove me back to the pond. Others have razed wildlife habitats I once reveled in watching at the pond. Places of worship & praise have become unutterably altered or out of reach. This morning, I decided to feed Megan's final descendant. Closing my eyes to the vinyl siding, I headed down. Hawks symbolize comfort & hope for me, but when buzzards are here they are no where to be found. A buzzard flew just above me, lower than I have ever witnessed.Just then, the door opened to the nearby letting my aging "puppy" & I know that she is no longer welcome where she once laughed happily, chasing the ducks back into the water....


As I walked her home, my mind went back to a conversation I had the other night. I shared with a young woman about a past, & very, deep hurt. "For years", I told her, "I hated the color orange until I put it together with the past incident. Now it has become very symbolic in my art." I confided to her that, " I am a 'survivor' but it really is an issue about control. Though it happened decades ago, control issues can bring up old scars."


BAM ! It hit me ! My brother recently pointed out how I *DO* jump in to new things & it isn't accurate to say that I don't like change. Perhaps what I am wrestling with is more of a lack of control than it is change. Perhaps I am falling back into the habit of being a victim rather than a survivor.....TIME TO TAKE BACK CONTROL ! First step, pray & LISTEN more for His Holy guidance !

Perched

My home is up the hill, behind the trees on the far side of this road.This is the duck pond where I watch the sun rise, & which feeds our waterfall. As soon as my baby knew how to throw, we walked this road to the pond every day for him to throw stones. Years later, as my preschooler & I went to feed the ducks, a man & his young daughter were out fishing near the swing. “Why don’t you get some rods & fish with us”... & so a friendship was born. In recent months, I have written about friendships & the difficulties I have had letting people in...but his family, especially his wife, breached the wall. Our families gathered together for campfires & Bible studies. We wrestled with "righteous anger" together in God’s Word. We gardened together, shared coffee & goodies on the bench, swam, picked blackberries, entertained bored, neighborhood children, chased ducks in the paddleboat... & we became friends.
It seems as though their house has been for sale for years. The signs had become but lawn ornaments to me, though I rarely noticed them anymore. Driving passed a couple of weeks ago I thought, "I should just take them down myself..." & I knew then, as though it had been uttered, I knew...The phone call came but hours later. The house had sold, they would be out in 2 weeks. We will love the new people. She even said, they “couldn’t have hand-picked better people. They mirror us in so many ways...”


The house is all but empty now. The swing is still & all is strangely quiet. The boat has been dry-docked, upside down, as my world seems to be. The patio that once held a wicker world of comfort, is but a concrete pad. The bench where we of whispered & laughed together is now bare of the potted dogwoods. The concrete pelican guarding over the lake awaits a third family. The fallen wisteria arbor on the island will have to be righted by it's new owners. I adjusted the camera exposure in these shots to represent my melancholy...I sit perched, awaiting a new chapter in my life....

Steps of Change

There is a dense cloud cover this morning ~the feel of autumn breezes, even as I arose just passed 4. The clouds race by overhead. The miry thick air, is dense with anticipation. No breaks in the cloud masses can be seen anywhere on the horizon. Birds call & sing as I enjoy perhaps, my last dawn on these vacant steps. It is one place I pray for neighborhood issues. I will return to the pond-side bench, or the rock on the edge of my driveway...I've spent countless hours on these steps...praying for those who God would bring to this empty house.
Time has taught me the enormous difference one household can make in the dynamics of a neighborhood. Yes, I have spent many hours here, praying...only to have God lead the family of a co-worker ~ fellow-believers ~ here, to this obscure little piece of the city. Handing over my prayer steps will be a symbol of change & new life....a new beginning for the neighborhood, for friends, for the end of summer & the beginning of a new school year. They shall primarily be a symbol of promise & answered prayers & of God's working everything out for His Mighty purpose. I look over the strife of recent months, things I have shared with you in a vague, generalized sort of way...and I CAN see blessings. I have been blessed with new friends, & support...days together with folks who pitched in helped me, physically & in prayer.
As I face another birthday & a new school year, it really IS time for change. Throughout my life I have said, "I don't do change well". In my journal today, this verse was printed: " He hath made every thing beautiful in His time...." (Ecc. 3:11)...change IS a good thing.