my gratitude for this year

thank you, mr. gardener, for loving me. 

21 degrees.

21 degrees. Tonight, as I was driving towards the freeway, I saw a woman walking along the road in through the two feet of snow.  She had bags hanging from each shoulder, and a bundle in her arms that looked to be a baby.  I slowed the car, then I drove on.  And I am sick over it.

At what point can you help your fellow man?  It took everything I had to keep going.  Common sense kept telling me, 'in this day and age, it's not safe,' or 'you are less than a mile from the state prison.'  A single woman by herself late at night should not be picking up strangers off the road but people, 21 degrees.  Bitter cold.  And I let her walk away.

On my way home, 19 degrees now, I looked for her.  There is a little pass under the bridge that she could have been hiding in, it would have blocked most of the wind.  The snow was coming down, the roads were becoming icier by the minute, yet I knew I should stop and look for her. Crazy, but true.  Did I?  No, I hesitantly pulled into the driveway and stopped, giving myself 'not safe' excuse after 'i'm sick' excuse to go in.  And I did.  I'm warm, I'm full, I'm safe.  When is it right to put others first and when is it wrong?  When am I being ridiculous and when am I being selfish?

Do I sound insane?  
This isn't selflessness; this is how far I am from being able to define this line.

Jesus Breads

Seeing as it is the birthday of our lord and savior this month, I consciously decided to give Him a true gift this year.



For Him, I gave up my Jesus breads.  What is a jesus bread, you might ask?  They are braided, jam filled loaves of bread shaped to look like a candy cane, then drizzeled in icing and cherries.  Papa Tarrant, a dear man, says he always thought they were in the shape of of a 'J' for Jesus. 

Every year, I INSIST that my Jesus breads are made and distributed - no exceptions.  If you have been in the same town as I over xmas - you probably had one shoved in your face as I franctically ran back to the car to deliver 50 more.  I was spreading Chrismas cheer, damnit!

This year, with 4 big shoots, a move across country, a new city, well, all of it, I just couldn't do it.  I made a few down in Austin - the camera store people, etc - but by the time I made it up to Dallas, I. just. couldn't.  Oh but don't you worry I still willfully tried, I bought 5 loaves of bread dough (people, not even ole' wonderwoman made that dough from scratch), thawed it out, braided them, and yeah then... I collapsed.  dropped.  BUT MY BREADS!!! If you don't bake them a few hours after you make them they rise too much and you must stand by the oven because they burn so fast.  A few made it to the oven AT 2 AM and then I just couldn't do it anymore.  All but one burned and it being Sunday morning and my flight to Salt Lake leaving at 6 am Monday morning, well - it was either go to the store and start all over or JUST LET IT GO (if I were to ever get a tattoo, that would be it).

But what about that neighbor across the street from my dad's house that (whose name I don't even know) who claims she waits all year for that bread to come to her door?  Or those friends of mine who only live 90 miles away but get the Jesus breads every year??  Or that sweet lady who took such good care of my grandma before she died. Or that rabbi. Or the owners of that dog rescue. Or the lady who is going to take care of that puppy mill dog I was watching for 2 days who broke her leg in the backyard and now has to be crated for 2 months at her house?  yada yada yada.

Then as I was kneeling down and realizing that I was asking the good Lord to help me get my Jesus breads done in time, I stopped, thought, and then asked, 'what can I do for you to honor your birthday?'  The response was quick, 'for my birthday, let it go.'  Now there are MANY things that was being mentioned but first and foremost (and this may sound ridiculous), the Jesus breads.

Instead of going to the store on Sunday and working to near exhaustion to remake these blasted things all day, I let them go. I let them go and I went to church and I thanked Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ for love and glory, and for the lessons they are trying to teach me.  And reteach me.




ps - Papa Tarrant got the only one that didn't burn.  Although he lives an hour away. sigh.

Merry Christmas!

 

 



Happy Birthday to my Savior, my Lord.

Roots



Everyone, meet my favorite spot in the entire state of Texas.  Favorite spot - everyone.  I call it 'my island' and yes, it must be visited several times a week.  My legs last until the other side of it and then it is time to sit under the most perfect tree.





Charles and I were taking a rest here the other day and I stopped and noticed the exposed roots I was sitting on.  They were huge! And bumpy. And hard. And not the prettiest. Spreading in every which direction, kinking up and smoothing out, intertwining with neighbors, creating the most chaotic pattern.  'Oh what a story this tree could tell,' I thought.  Tree roots are ususally so deep underground and so rarely exposed, I've never really stopped to think about how as much of a tree is hidden as is above ground.

My, oh my, what we really can't see.  So much more lies beneath, those sprawling and sturdy underground limbs holding us up, their curvy and bumpy path having hit so many blocks and with simply changing direction or merging with other roots for added strength, continuing on.  Above surface, we may look tall and strong, stable and steady, but underneath we are each on a chaotic and curvy path.  Perfectly straight roots would not yield such depth and lengths. Stubborn, on their own roots, would not be as strong without the melding and support of others.  What's underneath may be messy, may be wild, may be turbulent and disorganized, but only such courses can support a tree growing at a slant out of the water on an island.

bringing comfort

how I wish I could send Charlie to every single on of those families.

God be with those sweet babies. God be with those families.