still the one

dear emily,

i spied hans driving to work as i finished my walk.
this is unusual, because  he usually leaves before i
even wake up.   i know, no "here's your scrambled
eggs and bacon, honey."

my justification?   i would rather he remember me
from the night before than the morning after.

anyway, he motioned me to his car.

"they're playing our song."

we have a song?   i leaned in to hear shania twain's
twangy, "still the one i run to, the only one i belong
to . . ."

for dang certain,
lea

ps.   "love must be sincere.  hate what is evil; cling
to what is good."   romans 12:9

how will we know?

dear emily,

how will we know if we have raised our children well?    there are many
litmus tests, but i like the kindness test the best.

• how do they treat the dog when no one is looking?
• who do they prefer, the high and mighty or the underdog? (sensing a dog theme here)
• are they generous to those in need?
• what do i feel when they leave,  relief or sadness?

sadness, always sadness.   

our oldest son and his precious wife have been living with us for nine months

while they have been remodeling a home.   tonight they spend the first night 

in their own house, and i'm feeling just like i did when he  left for college.

but that unhappy feeling is laced with gratitude and hope.   i hope they visit 

often, and i'm grateful that, because they were such thoughtful houseguests,  

i don't feel one bit relieved that they're leaving.

well, i guess i could say that i'm relieved he grew up so kind.

love,

lea

"be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in 

Christ God forgave you."  ephesians 4:32

men are from . . . way farther away than mars

dear emily,

hans and i were driving home from a father's dinner at my brother's new
house.   i had on shorts and he (my husband, not my brother) had his hand
on my leg ( i know, TMI.)   he would lift his hand and then put it down. . .
lift it, replace it, etc.

i couldn't help but think about every night, when he does the same thing.  
just as i'm drifting off into a sweet dream, he lifts his hand, then replaces
it, and BOOM!  i'm wide awake.   the fourth time, he gets my elbow.

so, as we're driving along, i said, "would you like to know the secret to
happiness?"

that got his attention.

"if you would hold your hand still, it could stay a lot longer on my leg."

" . . . but it stops feeling like skin if i don't move it."

i give up,
lea

"again i say unto you, if any two of you agree on earth as TOUCHING
anything they shall ask, it shall be done for them by my Father in
heaven."  matthew 18:19

green jimmy choos

dear emily,

hans and i celebrated our 33rd wedding anniversary the night of our
lovely niece's rehearsal dinner.    the coinciding events made each
one even more special, but my feet enjoyed themselves the most.

a week ago, hailey and i were taking a circle through sak's shoe dept. 
we consider this a museum expedition, gawking at beautifully crafted
works of art.  at the back of the department i saw a vision of loveliness
that took my breath away . . . green suede jimmy choo pumps.

hailey noticed my elation and began listing the outfits in my closet that
they could happily accompany.    but, the extravagance paired with the
idea that being so memorably green, i couldn't wear them often, dissuaded
me from even trying them on.   i imagined a certain person whispering to
a certain other person,  "i saw lea in her old green shoes again."

a week later there were several of us huddling around our kitchen table
computers, postponing the fancying up for the rehearsal dinner when hans
marched in.    he wore a triumphant expression, carrying a saks bag, and
'i just knew it held a jimmy choo' (dr. seuss shout out.)

as i was dreamily gazing at my gorgeous foot, shelby said, "samara will
LOVE dressing up in those."   :)

love,
lea

"every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father
of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows."
james 1:17

just do it

dear emily,

i don't often post videos, because i don't think people really have time
for them.   they hop over here, because it's usually short and sweet . . .
or sour.

this is worth the time, i think.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CfVJT7rqc_0&desktop_uri=%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DCfVJT7rqc_0&nomobile=1

love,
lea

not a farmer

dear emily,

my dad grew up on a farm outside a tiny town in the panhandle of
oklahoma.    farming remained in his blood well after college and
medical school.    he was, in fact, the quintessential country doctor,
even though he always practiced medicine in the city.

he longed for the country and so bought 1,200 acres near our city.
to my horror, we became ranchers.   every weekend and for three
or four weeks each summer (our summer vacation,) we worked
cattle, rode horses, and hauled hay.   my dad relished the hard work
in the sunshine, as if doctoring 80 hours a week wasn't work.

as a teenager, the city held my heart.   i liked tanning at swimming
pools, shopping at clothing stores, and drinking diet dr. pepper with
vanilla at sonic.   my sympathy always fell with lisa douglas from
'green acres.'   why, oh why, did oliver make her leave the city?

while pulling stuck hay from the sharp blades of dad's tractor on a
105 degree day, imagining a rattle snake with every reach, noting
that dad was about five feet above all rattlers, i would sing,

"new york is where i'd rather stay . . . i get allergic smelling hay."

love,
lea

"ruth said to naomi,  'i would like to go and glean grain in the field
of anyone who will allow me . . . "  ruth 2:2

that time i ran away from home . . . as the mom

dear emily,

i'm not sure if shelby has told you this one, but six weeks before her wedding
i ran away from home.

all five kids were home the entire summer we planned her perfect day.    there
was constant activity, a little anxiety, and clamour . . . from me not shelby.
she was an angel.

it being my first wedding and all, i set the bar pretty high for myself, read
every book on wedding etiquette,  and still managed to make a gazillion
mistakes.    after lecturing telling my family to be sure to tip the delivery
man, i tipped an old family friend's daughter.   she was horrified.

my sister in law, in her deep southern accent,  said, "lea, while shelby is
writing all her thank you notes, you're writing all your apology notes."

the lady who ordered our invitations kept sending the lists back with "you
can NOT address a formal invitation with 'ma and pa kettle.'"

the door bell rang 100 times a day.   there were fittings and shootings.   i
shot the caterer, church photographer (not ace) , and wedding planner . . .
then i packed an over night back and left for the nearest hotel (it was either
that or the psych ward.)    my family received this text:   "i will be home
tomorrow,  maybe.   don't call or text me.   feel free to shoot anybody you
like."

love,
lea

ps.  "but jonah ran away from the Lord and headed to tarshish."  jonah 1:3