Allyson's Amazing Birthday Week

Just like last year, Allyson had three birthday celebrations. But at least this year we kept the whole birthday season down to a week.

It started on Saturday the 1st, when she had her friend party at an indoor rock climbing gym, where we had recently enjoyed the best family night ever. She and about ten friends enjoyed a couple hours of climbing while the parents held the ropes.

Olivia, Allyson, Elias

Next we enjoyed one of Aunt Emily's fabulous cakes. The dolphin was sculpted from Rice Krispy treats and then covered in chocolate and fondant. Using a plastic knife borrowed from another birthday party, I laboriously cut the cake into slivers and then hacked apart the dolphin, which everyone fought over. So good!

Allyson's favorite part was probably riding to and from the gym with her friends Savannah and Elias. They chattered and laughed the whole way.

The next day, I hosted our monthly family dinner, and we celebrated Allyson's birthday with swimming and a few cornhole games (tossing bean bags at a target). Allyson was pretty good! And surprisingly, I wasn't half bad either.

Cake number two was just a little less formal than cake number one:

 Yes, I really did serve leftover cake at Allyson's party. It was way too good to waste. The real dessert was ice cream sundaes, for the record. And this was officially Allyson's cake:

One of Aunt Emily's Fancy Cupcakes

The Very Best Day
Although this wasn't technically part of Allyson's birthday celebration, it was part of her birthday week, and probably the best day of the year, if not her entire life....

All through Kindergarten and first grade, Allyson was nominated numerous times as the class Bucket Filler, a student who goes out of the way to be kind to others, filling their "buckets." Each week, every class puts their Bucket Filler's name in a big bucket in the office, and then one name is drawn from each grade. The lucky winners get to be on the Friday morning announcements.

Over and over, Allyson got her hopes up and was disappointed. This year she had given up hope because the last day of school was on a Thursday. So you can imagine her delight when her name was drawn last Monday, for the Thursday morning announcements! She was positively radiant that afternoon. What amazing timing!

• It was the last day of school, a half day.
• It was the day before her birthday.
• Nana and Grandpa had just arrived from Canada, so they got to come along.
• She got to spend the whole afternoon with Nana and Grandpa.
• To top off her perfect day, we all met for last-day-of-school ice cream that evening.  

Here she is, waiting for her two minutes of fame:

Nana, Allyson, Grandpa

The Bucket Fillers

The Anchormen in Front of the Stage

One by one, the Bucket Fillers were announced by name and grade. They crammed together at the front of the tiny stage and recited the United States pledge and the Texas pledge, and then they sang the school song, complete with hand motions. Allyson was brilliant! A little self-conscious, but brilliant.

Back at her classroom, she was greeted as a hero. Her beloved teacher told us they had all cheered and exclaimed over how beautiful she looked.

It was also hat day, in honor of the last day. See how nicely the hat coordinates with her best dress:

Vancouver Canucks, of Course

Yep, a day can't get much better than that one.

A Close Second 
But the next day was a close second. We all met over at the giant outlet mall, even Ethan and his friend Meggie. We started at the Build-a-Bear Workshop, where Allyson picked a leopard.

She Wore Her Birthday Hat From School

Giving Her Leopard an Air Bath After He Was Stuffed

She Bought an Outfit with Drumsticks, and Named Him Ethan 

Next, we trekked to the Rainforest Cafe for lunch. It was literally about a half-mile walk around the mall. At the end, Bill discovered that we could have cut right through a store in the center.

While We Waited, Allyson Got a Parrot Balloon 

At the end of our delicious meal, the waiters came out and sang a birthday song. They made Allyson do a monkey dance, and I've never seen her so embarrassed. But it was all good fun.

That evening, Bill's family met at my house for Allyson's favorite dinner, yellow rice and chicken. Mom, Dad, and Amy came, too. We had a great time playing cornhole. The two grandmas beat the pants off everyone else, even though it was Nana's first time to play (so she says, anyway).

Here is cake number three, an ice cream cake from Daddy.

Ethan Got to Share the Big Moment

Afterward, Allyson got to spend the night at Nana and Grandpa's hotel. Another really great birthday season.

One More Story

On an unrelated note, I have to share one more story about Allyson. A few weeks back, she and I were walking through the neighborhood when we spotted two teenage boys unloading a trunk full of trophies. "Did you win all those trophies?" Allyson asked.

They explained that they'd found them in a Dumpster. 

"You need to come up with a more exciting story," I said. 

Allyson gaped at the shiny gold trophies with longing. 

"Want one?" one of the boys asked. 

"Oh, we really-" I began.

"Yes!" Allyson shouted. I sighed. 

From the very large stack, she chose a second-place state karate championship trophy. She gushed over her prize all the way home. "Is it worth a lot of money?" she asked.

I explained that it probably didn't cost much, and its value was probably only high to the person who earned it. She didn't seem to get the point, and was very proud to possess her very own karate trophy. 

So, when she was honored for an achievement by getting to bring something for Show and Tell last Tuesday, guess what she brought? Yep, that battered trophy, which was starting to fall apart. 

I couldn't wait to hear about her experience that afternoon. Turns out, it wasn't all that wonderful. She enjoyed telling the story to her classmates; like her mama, she does love to tell a good story. But the trophy brought way too many questions all through the day. She was sick of telling students, teachers, and staff that she had not earned the trophy in a tournament. 

Just as she was griping over all those questions, we passed the school principal. "Oh, did you win that, sweetie?" Allyson momentarily grinned at being the object of her principal's attention, but then sighed audibly. I quickly explained how the quirky teenagers had given her the trophy, and that she'd brought it for Show and Tell. "Ah," the principal said, her tone bemused. 

We hadn't walked thirty feet when we overheard two older boys whispering excitedly as they pointed at Allyson. "Wow, think she's a black belt? I bet she could kick your butt!" 

"Yours, too." 

When we got closer, they asked, "How did you win that?"

Allyson groaned. "I didn't win it. Somebody gave it to me." 

"Oh," they said, crestfallen. 

Thankfully, after that one day of dubious glory, Allyson was willing to part with her prize. It went out with yesterday's trash. 

The Lazy Grasshopper and Other Camping Adventures

Sorry I've been so quiet recently. There's always way too much to do, and I am utterly exhausted. Here's a story I've been saving for you.

On Friday May 10, I crammed my Sentra impossibly full with camping gear and headed for Mineral Wells State Park with Allyson, my nephew Sam, and my sister Amy, whose car was also jam packed.


Allyson in her little cubby

 

We'd planned to leave by four, but I had to meet Ethan up at the school with his freshly cleaned band uniform, and then we had to drive 30 minutes in the wrong direction to pick up Sam. So it was around six when we started the hour-and-a-quarter drive. About halfway there, it started raining lightly, with a bit of lightning off in the distance. Just ahead, we could see blue sky, but it seemed the rain cloud was following us.

Every few minutes I silently reminded God, "You know how much I've been looking forward to this weekend. Please, if you could let this rain blow over I'd be so thankful." And a bit later, "God, if you calmed the wind and the waves for your disciples, I know that you can dry up this rain.... Even so, not my will, but yours. I know there may be a purpose in the rain."

It kept raining, and we kept driving. By the time we reached the turnoff for the state park, it was barely sprinkling, so I headed on in. Would you believe that just when we reached the entrance gate, the rain stopped? My heart was light.... Until we'd driven around those narrow roads inside the park for 30 minutes. We'd tried to follow the instructions from the old man at the gate, and we had a map, but it just didn't match up with what we were seeing in the gathering twilight.

At last we found the correct road and claimed a site close to the bathroom. It was now after eight, and I felt very anxious about getting our tents up before dark. Amy's tent had never been used, so we decided to put that one up first in case it was tricky. Because we were such a great team, it was pretty easy except for one thing: I'd assumed everything we needed would be with the camping gear that Bill had neatly boxed in crates, but it turns out there was no hammer for the stakes. Amy improvised with one of Bill's old shoes. It was backbreaking work, but she persevered. Meanwhile, I stood around and took pictures.

Amy and Sam

The real work started when we got out our bigger tent. By now it was quite dark, so I lit the Coleman lantern. It took several tries, but my beginner's luck must have helped it ignite; the next evening none of us could get it lit for quite some time. So Sam had to follow me and Amy around the tent, holding the lantern high as it gradually took shape. When it came time to pound in the stakes, Amy found that the ground was just too hard for a shoe hammer. So Sam and Allyson sweetly asked the people in the camper next door if they could borrow a hammer. I felt like the lazy, unprepared grasshopper in the fable about the industrious ant.

Sam's father, Chris, arrived after nine, just in time to help me figure out the rain fly and then build a roaring fire. He would have arrived sooner, but the park's computer system was down, so they couldn't record our site number, and none of us had cell phone service. So Chris had been driving those same narrow roads in the pitch black. He said he was terrified, but I think he was exaggerating. Anyway, we finally collapsed into camp chairs and gazed up at the brilliant stars.

The next morning, I made a batch of pancakes, whole wheat of course. As I watched the bubbles swell and pop in the cooking batter, I mentally patted myself on the back for remembering the electric griddle. That was about the time I realized I'd forgotten to bring a spatula. I improvised with a pair of plastic forks, which worked pretty well until they started to melt. That was nothing compared to Chris's task of flipping fried eggs with plastic forks. Hopefully we didn't ingest too many carcinogens.

After I'd washed the dishes in water I'd heated on the camp stove, I headed back to town to pick up Ethan from his band practice and then drove back out to my sister's house to get my nieces, Hillary and Savannah, and Hillary's boyfriend Calvin. My Sentra was just about as stuffed as it had been the night before, but this time it was clear full of people.

We got back to the camp around four, in time for an early dinner of grilled burgers and Ranch Style beans.

Chris and His Beautiful Daughters

Chris Cooking Beans

Left: Calvin, Ethan, Amy
Right: Hillary, Chris, Savannah

 

Allyson couldn't be bothered to eat. Too busy climbing trees.

Next we headed to the lake for some fishing. Everyone had so much fun.

Aunt Amy and Allyson

Amy had bought Allyson a little pink Barbie fishing rod. She also had a Barbie tackle kit, so she got to fish in style. Amy taught her how to cast and how to reel the line back in (sort of). She loved it! She could have fished all night even though she never caught anything. Amy was the only one who did catch a fish, just a little one. But just as we were packing up, a stranger drove up in a boat and gave us a whole cooler of fish he couldn't use. Wow! God had provided dinner... just not for us.

Back at the campsite, several of the kids hacked away at those fish, but none of us knew how to clean a fish, and our knives were all wrong. We didn't have enough ice left to save them, so the kids carried them far away from the campsite and dumped them. By morning, the only thing left was some fins.

Around ten, Ethan's friend arrived, just in time for our second dinner of steak and fried potatoes. He had driven out in Bill's old truck, which he'd been dreaming of owning ever since he was about 13. We all sat around the fire talking and laughing while making S'mores and recalling scenes from our favorite funny movies: Dumb and Dumber and Bruce Almighty. Sometime after midnight, Ethan and Clayton retired to Bill's--I mean Clayton's truck, where they slept sitting up. Meanwhile, Savannah and Allyson settled down on a double air mattress in the girls' tent.

Chris, Amy, and I sat around the fire much longer. Just when I thought I couldn't keep my eyes open another moment, Chris suggested that we pray. So we stood in a circle holding hands and prayed in God's church, with the stars winking down on us. For me, this was the best part of the weekend. We prayed fervently for all of our kids and for ourselves, that God would help us lead them. We could have prayed all night, but we quit at 1:45 a.m.

I was the last one up, stumbling around in the dark trying to find the extension cord so I could plug in my electric blanket. Man was I tired, but no way was I climbing onto my cold air mattress without it. Everyone laughed at me, but they weren't laughing come morning. I was the only one who didn't get cold. Poor Calvin got stuck with our ancient green-striped mattress, and he ended up on the ground halfway through the night, curled up in the fetal position under a very light blanket. (We left that mattress in the Dumpster.)

I was the first up, having been awakened by singing birds--God's alarm clock, Chris called them. I did my Bible study under the blue sky, with lush green trees all around and the water just visible across the road. My heart swelled and throbbed with joy as I wrote in my gratitude journal about being outdoors with the sound of the breeze in the trees, surrounded by my kids, nieces, and nephew on Mother's Day.

Allyson with beloved Allum, the only stuffed animal who came along

By morning, Allyson had slid right off the mattress but slept peacefully on.

Me and my sweetie

After a breakfast of leftover pancakes and scrambled eggs that Savannah cooked on the camp stove, we spent the next two hours packing everything up, which was about as hard as setting it all up. It was a good thing we had Clayton's truck because our cars were stuffed with people. I was so tired that I let Hillary drive us home. Her driving was impeccable--way better than mine, probably--so I allowed myself a short nap.

Even though I'm just now catching up on my sleep, it was worth it. I hope we do it every year.

Joy Cometh

A couple of months ago, I heard a song in Pilates that made my eyes swim with tears, both because it was so beautiful and because it was painfully true. The song was In My Arms, by Plumb. Here are the parts that moved me most:

Your baby blues, so full of wonder
Your curly cues, your contagious smile
And as I watch, you start to grow up
All I can do is hold you tight
Knowing clouds will rage in
Storms will race in
But you will be safe in my arms
Rains will pour down
Waves will crash around
But you will be safe in my arms
Storybooks
Are full of fairy tales
Of kings and queens
And the bluest skies
My heart is torn just in knowing
You'll someday see
The truth from lies

As I stretched and twisted, my heart truly did feel torn over that inevitable moment when my children will see for themselves that life is cruel and hard. And then I heard these lines, and my pain was for myself, for my own crumbled castle:

Castles they might crumble
Dreams may not come true

All the way home, I pondered the irony of how the high hopes we have as children are dashed by the harsh reality we discover as adults. I thought wistfully of Allyson's sweet joy, her assurance that she is a princess.

Princess Allyson and Her Cousin, Princess Katie - Dec 2008

Since I was already in a crying mood, I literally sobbed over her future sorrow. How's that for borrowing trouble?

Tonight, I watched a Beth Moore video that made me realize I have it all backward. It's a study called Living Beyond Yourself, Exploring the Fruit of the Spirit. In tonight's session on joy, Beth read Isaiah 60:4-5:

Lift up your eyes and look about you...
 your sons come from afar,
    and your daughters are carried on the hip.
Then you will look and be radiant,
    your heart will throb and swell with joy....

That's how joy feels, she told us, like a physical swelling of the heart. "When's the last time you felt that kind of joy?" she asked. And then she told us about the last time her heart had throbbed with joy: at a book signing for her children's book, A Parable About the King. All the children were invited to dress like characters in the book, and Beth came in a sumptuous princess's gown. She grinned as she recalled all the girls in their princess costumes and the boys in their knight costumes, complete with swords. What brought her joy was the realization that these children were not "in costume." No, this was who they really were!

Allyson's Mother's Day craft. Do you see it? She's a princess even without the dress-up clothes.

My Princess and Prince, Mother's Day 2013

Tears gathered in my eyes as I recognized the truth of Beth's words. Yes, children really do know there is more to this life than the everyday, ordinary world that we see. They know they are special and have an important mission. The boys believe they are courageous, and the girls know they are beautiful. They are proof that God "...has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart" (Ecclesiastes 3:11). Beth also reminded us of Jesus's words in Mark 10:14-16, that the kingdom of heaven belongs these little ones.

Thinking back to my own childhood, I'm sad to say I can't even remember what it felt like to be a princess. What happened to me? How could I have forgotten? And how is it that I am blind to the truth that Beth kept repeating, "There really is a kingdom!"

I know there is so much more to this life than what I'm seeing. I'm still a princess, and I am special and beautiful and I have an important mission. In all my struggles over the last year, I've been sustained by peace that surpasses my understanding, yet I can't say I've had a whole lot of joy. There have been moments of happiness, certainly, but not enough inner joy.

How ironic that I was feeling sorry for Allyson, thinking she was the blind one.

Nearly a year ago, God gave me a promise and later confirmed it through a card from a friend:

They will enter Zion with singing;
    everlasting joy will crown their heads.
Gladness and joy will overtake them,
    and sorrow and sighing will flee away. (Isaiah 35:8-10)

Tonight when Beth read the same passage, I felt that joy finally catching up to me. And then she read:

Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. (Psalm 30:5, KJV)

It's almost morning. My joy cometh.

The Bend in the Road

I have so much to tell you, but I'm so busy these days it's virtually impossible to find time for blogging. Even now, the kitchen is scandalously dirty, but I've decided to let it be so I can tell the story that's been burning in my heart.

I'm doing much better, in better spirits each week. I think I really turned the corner on Easter Sunday. Allyson and I attended church with my parents and my sisters Amy and Emily, and we participated in their annual tradition of "blooming the cross." They start with a plain wooden cross covered in chicken wire and slowly transform it into a giant bouquet as each person tucks a flower into the wire.

As we waited, the pastor encouraged us to lay our problems at the foot of the cross and trust that God would make something beautiful from our pain. Hand in hand with Allyson, I pondered his words. "Lord, I'm giving you all my hurts," I prayed silently, my lips barely moving and tears seeping from the corners of my eyes. "I'm tired of feeling sorry for myself. This isn't the life I wanted, but I trust that you are making something beautiful from this mess."

When I saw that finished cross, a wild mass of flowers of all different shapes and colors, something happened to my heart. What I saw was... hope. For the first time in about 10 months, I looked into my future and saw joy instead of disappointment. Oh, before I had known intellectually that God's plan for me and my family was better than what I had planned for myself, but I couldn't honestly say I looked forward to that future.

Emily's Family

A few days later, I went for my first morning walk of the spring. I drank in all the brilliant shades of green, soaking myself in bird songs. "Quiet me with your love," I whispered. As I turned the second to last corner on my way back home, I suddenly remembered a sweet experience I'd had with Allyson a few weeks earlier, when we finished reading Anne of Green Gables together. 

Reading these lines, I'd fought to keep the tears out of my voice:

When I left Queen's my future seemed to stretch out before me like a straight road. I thought I could see along it for many a milestone. Now there is a bend in it. I don't know what lies around the bend, but I'm going to believe that the best does. It has a fascination of its own, that bend, Marilla. 

Allyson interjected, "That's like our life, Mommy!"

Amazed at her perceptiveness, I smiled through my tears. "Yes, it is, baby." I read on in a trembly voice while she watched with a sheepish smile.

I wonder how the road beyond it goes--what there is of green glory and soft, checkered light and shadows--what new landscapes--what new beauties--what curves and hills and valleys further on.

Allyson brushed the tears off my cheeks with gentle hands and then gave me a fierce hug. 

"I wish I could be like Anne," I said when we'd finished the book. "I know we can trust God with whatever's around the bend, but I can't say I'm excited about it."

"Everything will be okay," Allyson said, resting her head on my chest. 

As I thought back on that precious time, a grin spread across my cheeks. "I am excited, God," I said, hearing the wonder in my own voice. "I don't know what you have planned for me, but I know it's going to be good."

I literally felt lighter, as if a physical weight had lifted. But that was just the beginning. It might have been a week later when I suddenly realized that I don't have to wait to get around that bend to find happiness. There's so much to be happy about now!

Here are just a few things that have brought me joy recently...

• Watching Allyson score seven goals at her last soccer game. 

She's Spelling "WOW" With Her Hands and Mouth

• Trying dozens of new vegetarian recipes as part of my 28-day vegan challenge and discovering that I don't miss the meat at all (though I do miss the cheese). And then seeing my cholesterol drop nearly 40 points after 10 days on the diet!

Cholesterol Readings When I Donated Blood (Non-Fasting)

• Making almond milk (sweetened with Medjool dates) and cashew cream and hummus and applesauce in my brand-new Blendtec blender, an industrial-power machine that I've used approximately 30 times in the first two weeks if the electronic counter is accurate. 

Move over Zojirushi bread machine! I've got a new favorite gadget.
See that frothy almond milk? 

• Experimenting with healthy swaps, like flax seeds for eggs, applesauce for butter, and almond flour (made from dehydrated almond pulp leftover from my almond milk) for wheat flour.

Virtually Vegan Almond Flour Brownies - Incredibly Delicious

Almond Flour Pancakes with Flax Seed "eggs". Um, no. 

• And then there are the late-night talks with Ethan. Priceless. 

Life is so good. I'm going to treasure every minute of it. 

P.S. Ethan helped me with the dishes, so my kitchen is presentable again. 

Dennis! Oh, Dennis!

Over the last few months, I've been ridiculously scatterbrained. For example, there was the time a few weeks ago when I dropped my boarding pass three times before my return flight from Portland--and then dropped my keys in the park that same afternoon. (Thankfully, a kind citizen saw the YMCA key fob and returned them to my gym.)

And then there was this past Monday. Because I know I'm prone to forget my keys when I leave the house, I have a longstanding habit of checking my purse and verifying, aloud, "Got my keys." That's exactly what I did before I left to pick up Allyson. Keys in hand, I pivoted in my tracks when my stomach growled savagely. A quick glance at the stove clock told me I had time to grab the heel from a freshly baked loaf of whole wheat bread (from fresh ground flour, of course). I tried to wrestle open the bread canister with one hand but finally gave up and set the keys down so I could release the four locks. After an agonizingly slow squirt of ridiculously thick honey, I grabbed my purse and the bread and ran for the door, twisting the lock and slamming it behind me.

At the car, I realized the keys were missing and gave an exasperated groan as I fished through the inner zipper compartment of my purse for my car's valet key. Yes! No need to sprint a mile to Allyson's school and get the bad mother of the week award for being 15 minutes late. (Yes, it would take me at least that long to "sprint" a mile. Cardio just isn't my thing.)

I ran a few errands, trying to kill time until Ethan came home, but it turned out he had band practice after school. Not that he would have been much help. Too bad he'd lost his house key just a few days before. And too bad the last working garage door opener had quit just two weeks earlier, and both doors were firmly locked. But surely one of the back doors would be open.... Nope.

I thought back to the time Bill had been locked out. "Didn't Daddy climb through Ethan's window?" I asked Allyson. "How did he get up there?"

"Maybe a ladder," she said.

"No, the ladder's in the garage."

"I dunno."

"If he found a way up, so can I."

I dragged the picnic table under Ethan's window and retrieved a metal chair from the shed.

"Shouldn't you just call Daddy?" Allyson asked. "You might fall and get hurt."

"I'm not asking Daddy for help." I climbed up onto the quite sturdy table and then onto the chair. Gripping two of the horizontal supports of the pergola, I gingerly lifted one foot onto the left arm. The chair just about flipped, and I had to jump back onto the seat. Undaunted, I did a partial pull-up on the pergola and jumped my feet onto both arms at the same time. Nope, way too wobbly to be any help. I climbed back down and thought hard. Maybe if I stacked all four chairs, they would be more stable. Certainly they would make a taller tower.

I dragged the other chairs out from the shed, one by one, and stacked them on the table top. Once I'd caught my breath, I sighed with satisfaction. Much sturdier! I found I could easily balance on the arms of the top chair, but it was a lot harder than I expected to shimmy onto the pergola. The beams were too close together, and way off center compared to the chairs. And they were kind of splintery. I wished I had weight-lifting gloves.

Slowly, slowly I pulled myself up, careful to put weight only on the support beams and not on the netting between them. Allyson, who evidently wasn't that worried about my safety, called from the swing set. "Ha, ha! You're flopping like a fish."

"Uh huh." Grunting, I pulled myself onto my stomach and wiggled my legs up behind me. Sweating now in my fleece jacket, I lay spread-eagle for a moment atop the beams, glancing over my shoulder to the corner of the overhang under Ethan's window. I hadn't realized it was so steep! But I'd come too far to stop now, plus I wasn't entirely sure how to get back down. So I pulled up onto my knees, distributing my weight between two beams--and getting my very first knee splinter, I later discovered.

I carefully maneuvered myself into a squat and then grabbed the corner of the roof as I eased over onto the shingles. I then found I could not stand, let alone walk; my worn walking shoes scrabbled over the surprisingly slick asphalt. So I rested on my left hip, clutching the corner of the roof with one hand and wrestling with the screen with the other.

After breaking three nails without getting the screen loose, I was thinking of aborting the mission--until Allyson called out, "Mama, you're not a boy!"

"Girls can climb, too," I said, just as one corner of the screen pulled free. "Got it!"

I pressed my sweaty palm against the glass and tried to slide it to the right. It didn't budge. What? Surely it couldn't be locked. Ethan's window had been open for a couple of days, up until the latest cold snap, anyway. But surely he'd be too lazy to lock it.

"Find my phone, Allyson," I hollered. "Call Ethan and ask if his window is locked. I'm not getting down until I'm sure it's locked."

As she fumbled with the phone, it dawned on me that I wasn't getting down at all. The roof was way too steep, and I didn't think I could get onto the pergola and back down on that stack of chairs without seeing what I was doing. To make matters worse, my butt was burning. Who knew that shingles could get so hot when it was only in the 60s? I shifted to my knees, carefully shed my jacket, and threw it on the patio.

Just then I saw the neighbor's white truck pull into the driveway behind our house. I heard the door open but couldn't see over the hedge. "Dennis!" I hollered. "Dennis-Dennis-Dennis!"

No answer. Surely he could hear me. I took a deep breath and screamed myself hoarse, "DENNISSS!" Now the whole neighborhood could hear me. Everyone but Dennis. I hollered again.

A tiny voice answered. "It's Leticia."

"Oh. This is Sarah. Do you have a ladder? I'm stuck on the roof."

God bless her, Leticia didn't ask any questions or express any surprise. "I'll be right over," she said. Two minutes later, Allyson let her into the gate with her extension ladder.

She extended it and leaned it against the overhang, right at my feet. "Come on down," she said.

"Let's try to get Ethan first," I said. "I want to make sure this window really is locked." I then walked Leticia through finding Ethan in my contacts, which was about as hard as climbing up onto the roof had been. I'm about the last person left on earth who doesn't have a smart phone. (Even my mom has an iPhone!) At last she and Allyson figured it out, but it went straight to voicemail.

I was pretty scared to climb down, but Leticia calmly talked me through climbing down to squat on the pergola and then sidestep onto the ladder. I descended on shaky legs.

Safely on the ground, I finally got ahold of Ethan, only to learn that yes, he had locked the window and no, he still hadn't found his house key.

"Call Daddy," Allyson urged for perhaps the tenth time.

"Oh-kayyy!"

I humbly explained the situation to Bill, who was just as gracious as Leticia had been. "I'm still at work," he said. "It'll be at least 30 minutes."

"I'm sorry," I said, on the verge of tears. "I'm just being... me."

"What can you do?" Bill answered. "It's no big deal."

The last bit of the adventure was returning the ladder, which we could not figure out how to collapse. I convinced Ethan to carry it for me, but he was inexplicably humiliated over carrying a 12-foot ladder in public. As I lifted my hand to knock on the door, he hissed, "Wait! I don't want them to see me."

I shrugged as he disappeared back around the corner. He has no idea what embarrassing is, I thought. He should try sitting on the roof and shouting "Dennis!"

Oh well. It could have been a lot worse. The only thing bruised is my pride.

P.S. Yes, I am getting two extra keys made and hiding one in a safe place.

In Safe Hands

On Wednesday my whole family drove to Broken Bow, Oklahoma, to spend three days in a giant cabin. I'll share more about our time there later as I hope to bum some pictures off my siblings. In the meantime, I'd like to tell you about something that happened while we were there...

On the 4.5-hour drive up, we passed lots of trucks loaded down with tons and tons of giant logs. As we marveled over the massive weight of these loads traveling at 70+ miles per hour on the two-lane country highway, Ethan just had to bring up a scene from Final Destination, a movie about a group of teens who narrowly escape death in a plane crash only to be relentlessly pursued by Death in various freak accidents.

"Remember the scene with the logging truck?" Ethan asked.

"Oh yeah," his friend Clayton answered. "A log broke loose and went right through a car."

"It impaled the driver," Ethan added eagerly.

I shuddered. "Let's talk about something else."

A Similar Logging Truck

Thankfully, our trip was uneventful, though I did get pretty scared on the ridiculously steep gravel road up to the cabin. As we bounced over and around deep craters, my little Sentra careened all over the narrow road. "Give it some gas," Clayton urged when the car started sliding backward and spewing rocks. "Lots of gas."

I pushed the pedal to the floor, and the tires spun out repeatedly, but we finally made it up. I breathed a sigh of relief as we reached our final destination.

The next afternoon, most of us caravaned out to Beavers Bend State Park for hiking and fishing. Accompanied by Ethan, Clayton, and my niece Hillary, I gingerly descended the gravel hill behind my sister Emily's Ford Expedition SUV, which was loaded down with Allyson and her cousins.

We'd scarcely turned back onto the two-lane highway when we spotted another logging truck in the distance behind us. Ethan made some comment about Final Destination, and I said, "What if we all had to slam on the brakes, and some logs came flying at us?" I dont' know why we thought that was funny, but we all chuckled over it.

Maybe a minute later, I pulled to a stop behind the Expedition, waiting to turn left into what we thought was the state park. (It was actually a couple miles farther.) The highway was surprisingly busy for a Thursday afternoon, and I tapped my foot impatiently as car after car flew by in the oncoming lane.

A blaring truck horn soon changed my annoyance to indignation; a trucker coming up behind us sounded his horn over and over. "How rude!" I thought. "We have a right to turn. He can wait."

The relentless horn blasts continued, gaining volume as the truck approached. I didn't really have time to think about it, but gradually I perceived that this was not road rage. I looked into the rear-view mirror just in time to see that logging truck bearing down on me, horn still blaring. Realization dawned at last. "He can't stop!"

My heart thudded as the truck grew larger, but I felt frozen to the spot, the way you feel in a bad dream when something's coming after you and you can't run. I hesitated for a fraction of a second more, then simultaneously jerked the wheel all the way to the right and jammed the gas pedal to the floor. The Sentra's petite engine roared as the car lurched forward, seemingly in slow motion.

At that same moment, a break in traffic came, and Emily's husband Paul started his left turn just as I surged around them toward the right shoulder, narrowly missing the right corner of their bumper. The logging truck rolled slowly on, passing between our two vehicles and on down the road.

My whole body shook as I drove to a parking lot where I could turn around. "Do you realize what almost happened to us?" I asked. "We just about got smashed like a tin can."

"Nah," Clayton said. "That truck was going pretty slow. It would've just pushed us forward."

"I don't think it mattered how fast it was going," I argued. "With a load that heavy, we would've been crushed between the truck and Emily's Expedition."

By the time we reached the actual state park, my heartbeat had returned to normal, and we were joking about the incident.

"Without my lightning-fast reflexes and the Sentra's hair-trigger responsiveness we would have been smashed for sure," I said. "Or maybe it would have been just Hillary and Clayton. As long as Ethan and I are safe, that's the main thing." But a moment later, I said, "No, I don't have fast reflexes. My reaction was very slow. God must have been protecting us."

Just then, we started over a long bridge over a dam. "Remember that scene in Final Destination 5 where the bridge-", Ethan began.

I held up my hand. "Enough with the Final Destination talk."

That evening when I shared the story with the rest of the family, everyone agreed that all 12 of us in both vehicles were lucky to be alive. Emily and Paul (and Allyson!) had only been saved by the timing of their turn. Like me, they'd heard the horn without realizing the truck driver couldn't stop.

"What a terrible vacation this could have been," Mom said soberly.

On the way home the next day (yesterday), I began to wonder if there might be something to this Final Destination thing. After seeing an electronic highway sign warning of a backup, I had exited the interstate, and my navigator--the same navigator that once tried to kill us by leading us to into a seedy part of Memphis late at night--was leading us on a merry chase through some scary parts of downtown Dallas.

At one point we had to stop at a green light as a fire truck turned in front of us. Eager to make up lost time, I proceeded into the intersection even though I wondered why the car in the next lane wasn't moving.

"Wait, Mama! There's another one," Allyson said.

I stomped the brake, stopping in the middle of the intersection. Sure enough, another fire truck was barreling toward us, but thanks to Allyson's quick thinking, it passed safely around us. I'd heard the siren, but I thought it was the first truck.

"Man, we were just about T-boned by a speeding fire truck," I said. I pointed at Ethan. "You and Clayton would've been smashed."

Ethan shrugged.

Well, since trouble tends to come in threes, I shouldn't have been surprised this afternoon when Death made another attempt, again while I was driving. This time I was driving Ethan to his dad's house when I idly noted that the pickup truck ahead of us had a large pillow-top mattress in its bed. Now, I've had a mortal fear of mattresses ever since my teenage years, when our vacuum cleaner salesman was killed in a freak accident involving a flying mattress on the highway. So I've always given vehicles with mattresses a wide berth.

But today I was lost in thought, my mind on heavy things, and I didn't give the truck a second thought even though the mattress wasn't tied down. Normally I'm in a hurry while driving; I always go with the flow of traffic, even if that's over the limit. But today, I guess I was thinking too much to be in a hurry. So as we sped up for a major highway interchange, I lagged behind that truck with the mattress, about a football field or maybe a bit more.

Just as the driver reached the junction with the other highway, the wind caught the mattress, and it came tumbling at us, end over end, borne aloft like a napkin on the wind. I caught my breath sharply, hitting the brake and moving to the right. The mattress thudded to a stop about 100 feet ahead of us, and a couple of cars behind us swerved to miss it, passing in front of us.

My hand flew to my heart. "What IS it with this Final Destination stuff?" I asked. This time I wasn't kidding. I was really spooked. "Three near misses three days in a row. That's creepy."

Ethan pulled his iPod headphones off and shrugged. "I don't know," he said.

I glanced heavenward. "Thank you, Jesus!"

Ethan put his headphones back on, and I was alone with my thoughts again. As my heart returned to normal, peace washed over me. I pictured myself cradled in God's giant hand as danger swirled harmlessly around me. In that moment, I realized death has no power over me! Nothing comes against me without God's permission. Nothing. He has ordained all of my days, including the last one. One day when He's ready to bring me home and let me see Him face to face, I will go to meet Him--and not a day sooner.

For the rest of the day, I've rested in the security of that truth. Lately I've felt so out of control, with all kinds of things coming at me that I don't want and can't change. This morning I had been struggling with my own emotions, battered back and forth like that flying mattress. But I realize now that I don't have to be so unsettled. God loves me, and He is always in control. No matter what threatens me--physically, emotionally, or spiritually--I am always safe in His hands. There's no place I'd rather be.

P.S. This evening I learned that I wasn't the only one who had a near miss on the way home from Oklahoma. My sister Amy, traveling with Mom and Dad, was caravaning behind Paul and Emily when both of their vehicles almost got into a horrific accident involving two semi trucks and two other cars, plus one reckless driver, all travelling about 70 miles per hour. God had his hand on them all.

P.S.S. Do you think we should all stop caravaning behind Paul?

An Ecstatic Cowgirl

Last night was Allyson's long-awaited Daddy Daughter Date, a western themed night of food, fun, and... line dancing! I have to admit that I'm pretty impressed Bill agreed to go. To my knowledge it was his first time to wear a cowboy hat even after12 years living in Texas. Although line dancing probably ranks right up there with root canals, he just couldn't resist Allyson's enthusiasm.

The western wear was optional, but Allyson insisted they both needed hats and boots. Last Sunday she got so worked up about it that I finally said, "Let's not stress about it. I'm sure you will have fun no matter what you're wearing. The most important thing is that Daddy will be there."

When I mentioned the event a day or two later, Allyson protested, "I thought you said we couldn't talk about the Daddy Daughter Date."

"Huh?"

"You said we couldn't stress about it any more."

I laughed. "Well, that doesn't mean we can't talk about it."

Allyson needn't have worried. Bill borrowed a hat and boots from his best friend Troy, and then he took Allyson shopping at Target, where they found the cutest hat and boots, plus a checkered shirt from the boy's section.

Although we both assured her no one would be able to tell it was a boy's shirt, she decided on a jean skirt over jeans, just in case. Isn't she the cutest cowgirl you've ever seen?

And the happiest, too.

 



 

 

I was surprised to see that Bill looked great in a cowboy hat. I made sure to get a good look as it's probably the first and last time he'll ever wear one.

 

In her ecstatic summary this morning, Allyson told me that he actually did some line dancing with her. "And we got to do a slow dance, too," she said, grinning wide. How wonderful that her very first slow dance was with her father.