Fire and Ice

I helped to lead a Sunday School class not too long ago. It was the week that took our city by surprise with record heat.  Part of the session was about prayer and used an acronym to dig deeper into this topic for children. The acronym was ACTS, short for adoration, confession, thanksgiving and supplication. To break it down more simply we used the words: wow, oops, thank you and help!

We sat in our cozy semi-circle and I asked the fidgeting group about "wow" moments for that week. The topic of hail came up. I thought about the cold chunks of ice that dropped from the sky pelleting the ground a day or two ago. The thunderstorm's frosty finale. I also remembered the sizzling temperatures we were complaining about and sweating through sun up to sun down, and it suddenly struck me how our amazing Creator poured forth ice in the midst of a fiery heat wave. Talk about your "wow" moments.

WOW.

"Who can understand how he spreads out the clouds, how he thunders from his pavilion? See how he scatters his lightning about him, bathing the depths of the sea. This is the way he nourishes the nations and provides food in abundance." - Job 36:29-31 (NIV)

Cream Puff

Scrabble Story

NOTE: Look carefully at the words in the picture above and then read below. 

"Hidden in the hat of the valet was a laser. The cat in the nettle ramped up the box of roots as the cop came about the tax. They had new yen. He que(ue)d at the door, finer than before. They found pokey worms in the wool from the drains in the canal at the zoo. He jogged with the gun hidden in the crib. The fit beggar wields it yet saves us. Fie!"

Thus ends our scrabble story (yes, there are some questionable spelling interpretations), but how does the story begin? While our children gather round their play things in mock battle and outer space maneuvers,  my husband and I steal a few moments to tuck in at the kitchen table and cozy up to our vintage Scrabble board. The burgundy box is cracked and the directions are the cream-color of aged paper. It even smells old, but the click clack of tiles as we mix them up and the giddiness of pulling letters makes magic for us. Despite the din of little voices, we sit in our semi-silence to ponder the mysteries of the alphabet. Just 26 letters. Amazing a language spawns from that.

We keep score, occasionally check a word on our Smartphones and rejoice for the triple word slot. In short, we delight in each other's company and remember what being a couple is all about.

Brewster Beauty

We've just returned from Brewster, NY. Situated about an hour outside of Manhattan, this quaint and thriving town is most notable for my dear friend and her family who live there. Admittedly, the drive to this little oasis tests my husband's nerves. Our GPS routed us through Manhattan. What? What!? The lower level of the George Washington Bridge is not a destination I hope to revisit as we snaked our way through this belly of a steel dragon. 

But, the trek is definitely worth it as my girlfriend roles out the red carpet of hospitality. Her husband cooks feasts of lobsters and meats seasoned in their secret sauces. We plop pool side and relish those rare and relaxing moments in a summer that's fading fast. 

What I love about our annual visit (besides the cuisine, of course) is the conversation. I talk and talk and talk some more with this friend of mine of almost 20 years. We switch topics with reckless abandon as the mothers of toddlers, stopping mid-sentence to shout cautions or give snack instructions. We can finish a conversation an hour after it started covering threads of four other stories in between. We are convinced this is a skill only a mother can possess or appreciate and laugh at the folly of it all.  

My charming friend sparkles and I can not imagine this gray world without her in it. To pause in the busyness of our crazy lives and carve time out to connect. A smiling face before my own, in person, in laughter, in long, long friendship. My beauty of Brewster.