Tonight

Seventeen years ago
I entered
the Valley of the Shadow.

Somewhere in the hospital
was my newborn
rushed to first breath
by emergency methods.

But the idea of delivery
was lost in the fog
of my fragile existence...
perhaps it had been a boy after all.

A world did not revolve beyond 
my isolated, curtained room.
Yet I understood their warning words,
falling with weight out of the dark;
so I was still,
very still,
waiting.

Even now, at times, I'll wake
with the terror of dying!
But those days that were nights
were all peace for me;
perfect
sustaining
precious 
Christ
peace.

Every year
we recall,
telling the story
over and over--
every breath-catching
detail.

How I love to remember...

Remember
God's sense of humor,
to have my mid-wife 
search for her wallet
just long enough
to meet up with me.
And then find that she was 
sitting on it the whole time!

Remember
How Hero named 
his newborn by himself
and bonded dearly 
as he held her
every long, lonely hour.

Remember
two dear, common, overlooked saints,
literally up for hours
the night I reached the brink;
pleading mercy from God
for a girl 
they barely knew.

Remember
how close I came to Dying.

Life's frequent troubles;
it's fatigue, heartache, joint pain,
lyme-bearing ticks and difficult choices,
mask the joy, 
mud-up the gift.
It's so good to think back, 
for it seems I must
look again 
at Death
to remember how to truly live.

Happy Birthday Blaze!
Happy Birthday LIFE!

Love you all,
Zinnia Girl


You are my hiding place;
You will protect me from trouble
and surround me with 
songs of deliverance!
Psalm 32:7

There's gotta be a word for it this....how just yesterday my sweet 
girlie was a kissable two year old, climbing onto my lap....
and today she's a capable teen, setting up landing zone for
Life Flight to rescue someone else's sweet two year old.
Vocabulary for that?

photo by our daughter

     I thought I was keenly aware of the subtle changes of the season this summer...how late the dawn, the tiny swift cricket, unfurling golden sunflower petals, that lone raucous cicadidae, the Firemen's Festival.   Wait.  I didn't see that coming. It can't be that time yet! Oh, gotta love the parade, the sirens, the fries...but when we go to A's Festival it means ours is next. It means start organizing volunteers for my stand. It means collecting prizes, counting days, figuring out how to park minus one field, selling tickets, making signs.....It means "You haven't ordered curriculum yet?!" 
Because our Firemen's Festival marks the end of our summer. We start school The First Monday After The Festival. Yeah, capitals, because it feels that way right now.  My heart isn't ready.  Yet, all along, as I delighted in fireflies, picked cucs, and munched on blueberries like Summer would never end, nature was sweetly reminding me; 
                                   today is lovely, savor it.

 

My favorite First Responders, looking amazing as usual!
 (I was too flustered to remember there is such a thing as a selfie.)



Lots of Love, Zinnia Girl !


                                        P.S.  The funnel cakes were the best!

..

Pull up a chair

A sigh, one last hug....my sweetest friends on earth come in a moment's notice and are gone just as soon. Scattered across states and continents, there's never enough time with any of them.

Slowly, I make my way back to the pile of doll furniture waiting to be transformed. Somehow I have lost delight in the task. Then I notice that little hands were busy while we talked and the arrangements are so pleasing, so comfortable, I can only smile and feel glad again. 

Maybe it's time to connect another way.

So pull up a chair, and come visit with me. Let the miles float away, my friend.

Blessings!  Zinnia Girl

P.S. Will having a blog make up for all the hundreds of letters I used to write?