What a wonderful day we had! Gary surprised me with a mushy card first thing with my morning coffee. We were to get out of the house and go to some antique stores towards Grand Haven and putts around. However, we started our journey too early so we kept driving and went into Holland, ending up at Steak and Shake for a morning burger! An excursion we would not normally take. On the way back we stopped at the now opened store. We took a trip back in time and shopped but didn't buy anything, then headed back home where we exchanged our boxes of chocolates.
The real fun came when we started dinner. We had planned on eating in regardless...German dinner is what we planned along with all of the fixings: Polish sausage, sour kraut, spatzle, red cabbage and potato pancakes. As I attempted to set the mood with red, I discovered that I didn't have anything, not one red napkin, dish, nothing! So, we improvised. I tore off several pieces of butcher paper and grabbed the colored markers and we sat down at the table and created each other's place mat and the one for the center of the table. It was fun.
Finishing the cooking, glass of wine along with Dean Martin playing in the background was a great way to set the mood for the rest of the night. Great food, great music, great company.
After twenty years of marriage, it's wonderful to be able to still be wined and dined at home and still have it be romantic. :-)
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Friday, February 09, 2007
Good Bye Hal
Ludington Daily News Posted: 2-7-2007Harold E. Reuter • Mr. Harold E. Reuter, 75, of Walhalla, passed away on Tuesday, Feb. 6 at his home. Wyman Funeral & Cremation Services, Inc. Stephens Funeral Home in Scottville is in charge of arrangements. Post a Tribute Date published: 2-7-2007 � 2002 Ludington Daily News.
Strange feeling getting the news of my former step-fathers death. My pre-teen and teenage years were quite rocky following the death of my father and I often wished as well as spoke the words to the step-father, "Drop dead!" Now, he did, after fighting a losing battle with Alzheimer’s. After years of not seeing him or hardly thinking about him, the time has now come to stop in my tracks and look square in the face of the past at what I've long tried to bury. Feelings.
What were my feelings? MY feelings? They have been so polluted by how others felt about Hal or how they thought I should have felt about him that I always went to the place I knew only so well...denial. Quiet, dark and almost peaceful. Denial allowed sleep and permitted me to stay out of arguments. Not that I wasn't used to arguing, but as I grew up and left home, I was trying to get more in control of my life and fighting was not part of it anymore. Still, I didn't know how to stand up for myself, so I put this part of my life on a shelf in order to deal with it later.
One time, Hal sent me a plane ticket home for Christmas. Of course, Mom and he were getting their divorce and I was feeling very torn. I wondered, "Why after all the fighting that we did, was he being nice?" He bought me some beautiful ruby earrings for Christmas. I didn't know how to receive them or the niceness this man was showing me. The following year, he came to Texas to see me. It was so odd. "What does he want from me?" We had ice cream, went out to eat and had a very pleasant time.
But then the divorce got bad between Mom and him and of course, I chose to take sides. There was no pursuing relationship with this man. I ran as fast as I could into my safe place called denial and didn't deal with it again.
Many years later, after I got saved, the Lord instructed me on forgiveness. There were many people I had to forgive for some terrible things done to me. He had me forgive Hal for all of the fighting we did and laid it on my heart to write him a letter. I put it off and put it off, scared of reconciling a relationship of which I was not in control. In my heart, I extended forgiveness, but Hal didn't know it. I don't know what he ever thought about me after that last visit in Texas.
When we moved back to Muskegon, I often thought of driving the 60 miles to his house, but never did it; once again, fear of man ruled my heart. I know that I've changed in the years since I've seen him, surely he'd changed too.
Maybe, just maybe he wanted to be friends. Now, I'll never know.
Strange feeling getting the news of my former step-fathers death. My pre-teen and teenage years were quite rocky following the death of my father and I often wished as well as spoke the words to the step-father, "Drop dead!" Now, he did, after fighting a losing battle with Alzheimer’s. After years of not seeing him or hardly thinking about him, the time has now come to stop in my tracks and look square in the face of the past at what I've long tried to bury. Feelings.
What were my feelings? MY feelings? They have been so polluted by how others felt about Hal or how they thought I should have felt about him that I always went to the place I knew only so well...denial. Quiet, dark and almost peaceful. Denial allowed sleep and permitted me to stay out of arguments. Not that I wasn't used to arguing, but as I grew up and left home, I was trying to get more in control of my life and fighting was not part of it anymore. Still, I didn't know how to stand up for myself, so I put this part of my life on a shelf in order to deal with it later.
One time, Hal sent me a plane ticket home for Christmas. Of course, Mom and he were getting their divorce and I was feeling very torn. I wondered, "Why after all the fighting that we did, was he being nice?" He bought me some beautiful ruby earrings for Christmas. I didn't know how to receive them or the niceness this man was showing me. The following year, he came to Texas to see me. It was so odd. "What does he want from me?" We had ice cream, went out to eat and had a very pleasant time.
But then the divorce got bad between Mom and him and of course, I chose to take sides. There was no pursuing relationship with this man. I ran as fast as I could into my safe place called denial and didn't deal with it again.
Many years later, after I got saved, the Lord instructed me on forgiveness. There were many people I had to forgive for some terrible things done to me. He had me forgive Hal for all of the fighting we did and laid it on my heart to write him a letter. I put it off and put it off, scared of reconciling a relationship of which I was not in control. In my heart, I extended forgiveness, but Hal didn't know it. I don't know what he ever thought about me after that last visit in Texas.
When we moved back to Muskegon, I often thought of driving the 60 miles to his house, but never did it; once again, fear of man ruled my heart. I know that I've changed in the years since I've seen him, surely he'd changed too.
Maybe, just maybe he wanted to be friends. Now, I'll never know.
Friday, February 02, 2007
Heart for the homeless
After helping out at the Supper House the other night, I can't get the people that came out of my mind or heart. I see their faces, young and old, black and white. Their dirty hands reaching out for more to drink, purposefully, our fingers touch as they hand me their cup. Silently, I pray for God to meet their need.
"Thank you." They respond as they suck down the contents. I pass behind them and pat their back.
"You are very welcome." It's the least I can do, I think to myself. Fill up...it's going to be a long, cold night.
I can't get the images out of my head. My heart breaks. Tears, stream down my face. Maybe it's because I understand the devastation of drug addiction. Maybe it's because I understand what it's like to be homeless. Granted, I put myself in the situation and I've gotten myself out or rather, allowed the help of God and others. But looking into the eyes of these folks, some were tricksters and were taking life as it came. A free meal was a free meal and they were glad for the system in place. But there were others who had tired, weary eyes. Those are the ones that grabbed my heart. Are they crazy? I don't know, maybe. Does that mean they don't deserve a place? No. With all of the billions spent on other nations, we shouldn't have homeless, hungry, cold especially elderly homeless folks, in the good ole US of A. But, I guess that is for a different entry.
I know it's touchy subject. I also know the truth is still out there, that we have hungry, cold, homeless people right in our neighborhood. What can we do about it? Short of going and adopting a homeless guy, I'm not sure, but I do know that God is stirring my heart for a reason. Please help me pray through this. Pray for the homeless guys and gals that are freezing out there especially this weekend.
"Thank you." They respond as they suck down the contents. I pass behind them and pat their back.
"You are very welcome." It's the least I can do, I think to myself. Fill up...it's going to be a long, cold night.
I can't get the images out of my head. My heart breaks. Tears, stream down my face. Maybe it's because I understand the devastation of drug addiction. Maybe it's because I understand what it's like to be homeless. Granted, I put myself in the situation and I've gotten myself out or rather, allowed the help of God and others. But looking into the eyes of these folks, some were tricksters and were taking life as it came. A free meal was a free meal and they were glad for the system in place. But there were others who had tired, weary eyes. Those are the ones that grabbed my heart. Are they crazy? I don't know, maybe. Does that mean they don't deserve a place? No. With all of the billions spent on other nations, we shouldn't have homeless, hungry, cold especially elderly homeless folks, in the good ole US of A. But, I guess that is for a different entry.
I know it's touchy subject. I also know the truth is still out there, that we have hungry, cold, homeless people right in our neighborhood. What can we do about it? Short of going and adopting a homeless guy, I'm not sure, but I do know that God is stirring my heart for a reason. Please help me pray through this. Pray for the homeless guys and gals that are freezing out there especially this weekend.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Supper House
For years I've complained about wanting to do something for someone, help someone, "get out of myself" so to speak. Last night was my opportunity. Our church helps at the Supper House every once in a while and I signed up. Unsure of what to expect, I knew it was something I was supposed to do. As I watched the church folks get things in order I was a little nervous, not knowing what to expect. They explained what my part was and we had time to get to know each other while we waited; we were finally prepared to meet the people.
Homeless and hungry began to come through the doors. Layered in coats and sweaters and steatshirts, they piled into the gynmasyum, turned dining room. Sitting at an empty spot at a table and we served them. Someone brought their plate of food and dessert, while others brought them their drinks of choice. I was on the drink detail. "Juice, milk, water or coffee?" Sometimes the answer was all of them, sometimes they wanted just a hot cup of coffee to warm their bones from the freezing cold temps outside. Many came in from being homeless, all came in seemingly...happy. They were gracious, thankful and polite. Some bowed their heads and prayed over their food before they ate.
I watched as they ate, drank and sometimes had conversation with their tablemates. Then, the saddest part of the night came when a gentleman asked, "Can we have second's?"
Of course, being new, I didn't know the rules, so I went to check.
"They can have extra bread and butter, that's it."
Sadly, I walked back with a piddly piece of bread and butter, knowing the man also wanted a piece of meat with his bread and said, "No seconds, only bread. I'm sorry."
He knew the drill and knew the answer before I got back to him but also knew it wouldn't hurt to ask, but my heart broke. I know my husband would have to have seconds. I understand they need to have enough to feed everyone and everyone needs to be equal, but if they are going to be fed, then can't we get them full?
As I reflect on the time I spent with them last evening, I hope I am forever changed. I pull out my housecoat and am warm. I toast my bread and think of their cold bread with their meal. I have a snack before bed, where will they sleep on these bitter cold nights of winter? How sad for them, how grateful I need to stay.
Homeless and hungry began to come through the doors. Layered in coats and sweaters and steatshirts, they piled into the gynmasyum, turned dining room. Sitting at an empty spot at a table and we served them. Someone brought their plate of food and dessert, while others brought them their drinks of choice. I was on the drink detail. "Juice, milk, water or coffee?" Sometimes the answer was all of them, sometimes they wanted just a hot cup of coffee to warm their bones from the freezing cold temps outside. Many came in from being homeless, all came in seemingly...happy. They were gracious, thankful and polite. Some bowed their heads and prayed over their food before they ate.
I watched as they ate, drank and sometimes had conversation with their tablemates. Then, the saddest part of the night came when a gentleman asked, "Can we have second's?"
Of course, being new, I didn't know the rules, so I went to check.
"They can have extra bread and butter, that's it."
Sadly, I walked back with a piddly piece of bread and butter, knowing the man also wanted a piece of meat with his bread and said, "No seconds, only bread. I'm sorry."
He knew the drill and knew the answer before I got back to him but also knew it wouldn't hurt to ask, but my heart broke. I know my husband would have to have seconds. I understand they need to have enough to feed everyone and everyone needs to be equal, but if they are going to be fed, then can't we get them full?
As I reflect on the time I spent with them last evening, I hope I am forever changed. I pull out my housecoat and am warm. I toast my bread and think of their cold bread with their meal. I have a snack before bed, where will they sleep on these bitter cold nights of winter? How sad for them, how grateful I need to stay.
I am now trying to think of how we could send them with some food as they leave. A packed mini snack for later, cheese and crackers, chips, apple, juice box? I don't know how it would work but, I'm thinking God has a plan...
If you agree please pray with me about this. We need to put feet to Jesus' heart.
If you agree please pray with me about this. We need to put feet to Jesus' heart.
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