Rename the Blog

It happened again!

While riding the Subway a woman reflected Christ to me in such a way that I was both humbled and amazed at the bravery of her act.

Naturally Raymon, my husband if I haven't told you his name by now, was talking with several people at once while in route. One of the ladies of the group was simply exhausted and joined me on the bench. There were two empty seats beside me. Trust me, that is a rare occurrence.

We began chatting as if life long buddies. Of course it was our accents that opened the conversation. She had one too so that began a geography lesson for both of us. Next were our hopes and dreams of traveling which for both of us were pretty much done, barring the occasional jaunt to the moon and back.

Then the huge question of "why did you come?" For several stops I proceeded to tell her our story.* Amazed she listened with punctuated amens. I knew she was a believer, thrilled to learn of God's plan. Then I asked her with flippancy to pray for me.

With eyes deeply peering into mine she grabbed my hand, with the subway express train roaring by each stop she said, "Lets pray right now."

And we did.

These two middle aged ladies, hand in hand, heads bowed, bundled with packages to the max and one with talking in a level voice asking God to protect and bless me and us here in New York. On the A Train traveling who knows how many miles per hour with left over silt on the rails from Sandy moving toward the end-of-the line. What a blessing God sent. What a ministry.

He continues to fill me with surprises in the heart of this most godly land.

God truly must love NYC.




*see archived early posts and profile

Its Not Our Fault!

How do I say this...its not our fault! Now before you decide that that sounds terribly whinny which of course it doees, or that it must be our fault for me to say that it isn't...well I must protest. It is not our fault!

Rather, it was not our fault.

Well, may it was a tiny little bitty partly our fault--but not much. Really.

Okay, so some folks really messed up. Just a few. Actually, we don't know how many.

The result? A mess.

A real mess.

A multi-million dollar mess.

That can't be cleaned up.

Have you ever been helpless to fix a problem you have been accused of creating? And to make the situation worse, you must witness others make the problem worse, knowing you will again be accused?

Actually, it happens a lot. Road rage is a major culprit I hear. So glad I'm not driving these days! Spouses, ever walk in on your love who has had a bad day? Yikes! And what well behaved student gets punished along with the rest of the class because of one bad apple? The domino effect of a work crew dropping the ball on one item leading to another to another to another....

Life sometimes isn't fair. And lately, the fairness meter is stuck on the heavy hand of "un".

So next time you come across anyone, yes anyone, remember that their fairness meter may be stuck on "un" for no reason other than the fact that they got up that morning.

Pray that Jesus will hold up others' "un" meters.

He's good at it.

Milestones

Thinking of all the parental milestones one hears about, it is truly amazing to experience one.

The moment of conception, the birth of a child, the child’s first word, first step and even potty training for some reason is ecstasy for every parent. There are all kinds of firsts before the one first that cause the mom and dad to hold their breath in a strangle hold before exhaling; the first day of school.

This first is like no other. This first is when Mom and Dad hand their child over, their gift that they have reared, nursed and yes, done the potty training bit. This is the first that someone else looks into their eyes and says, “I’ve got this.”

 And their child says, “I’ve got this.” (Or not).

And it really doesn’t matter what the parent feels inside, Mom and Dad have to look their child in the eyes, the child’s soul and say, “We know.”

From this moment, Mom and Dad know everything has changed.

True? Yes. Right? It should be.

Of course, the child still runs to the parents for every single bit of support. Yet there is that hunt for independence that wasn’t there before. And the family is ready for the search.

We know.

Our family is ready for the search.

Milestones are part of growing and growing up.

But turning the child over doesn’t make the inner soul feel any less parental, only more so. That mixture of joy and ache is a victory to be savored. The next milestone is nearer. Children will soon bring children of their own to life. 

Ah, I read that I am being cryptic again. I am inspired by our spiritual NYC body, growing in number, faith, knowledge, example and wisdom; walking in Jesus steps and living as He would have us live. Our family is growing, reaching one milestone after another. 

And so it begins.

No, not the fantastic Olympics of 2012. They have been amazing have they not? I simply can not decide which sport I shall be taking up after watching these athletes perform.

No, not the hope of cooling Fall weather. HA.

No, not the joy of the recent hair cut--so long overdue.

What you ask?  Hubbie's birthday week! And what a week we have planned. For the first time we have decided to do a full week of birthday celebrations, partly to make up for a few years we had to skip but mostly because it sounds fun.

The goal is to travel as far as we can on the public transportation system to some destination we've not been to before. The trip itself can last a long time and you can meet people from all over the world.

Today we rode the A train to #1 where we met two families from France going to see the Statue of Liberty. That is a normal thing here. Hubbie meets a family from distant lands almost every weekend while volunteering at the South Sea Sea Port, but that's another story.

From the #1, we board the Staten Island Ferry, lower desk along with at lease 4 thousand other people (I jest) and three school groups, each grouped in separated neon colored t-shirts. Going toward Staten Island, we lingered over the Governors Island side. On the return trip, we shuttled over the Statue of Liberty Side--another family from another country, I forget where, sorry.

Let's see, A to 1 to ferry oh, then the train for the full length of Staten Island. Beautiful ride if you've never taken it to the end. There really is nothing to see, only a wire fence and river channel, but it is really cool to have done it. Also, the few block around the area had a gingerbread house painted purple, yellow and green. I am sure I would have gone simply to have seen that house.

All in all, we rode 3 trains and one boat today for the cost of one round way subway fare. Not bad!

Tomorrow? City Island!

SEVEN NEW SISTERS

God's family is huge. There has been two millennium of brothers and sisters who have born and died that I will one day meet. Add those to the rest of the living family that are not-yet and now known, that is quite a reunion.

But today--what a day--today, God by His grace blessed seven beautiful women with salvation, adoption and a huge family. The ladies acted out of obedience and were baptized.

Being a part of His family, I'm seven times blessed, oh why bother with numbers? It was / is an amazing unity of souls, rejoicing and praising God's name.

Everywhere... everyday... everyone...

God

Hang on everybody.

I have about 4 posts in draft mode.

I'd love to say that I was perfecting each post -- so, why not! :-)

The truth is by uh, after perfecting them for so long, my current browser will no longer work with some stuff. In fact, after this weekend, some of you may be dealing with Internet issues as well.

Sooooooo, I'll be hunting for a browser that wants to read my blog :-).

As soon as all is tip top, Apartment 3G will be observing life again!

Thanks guys.

Lindy

Seam Lock

Today I reached into my sewing basket. There was that really handy bottle of seam lock stuff my dear friend from down South backed away in my bags the last visited.

The product glues down threads that you cut to make into buttonholes (or rather someone else has!) and thus they last a bit longer. This ingenious product just might make the Sharpie product line go out of business in my house as I truly color in worn out buttonholes with Sharpies--don't you?

Of course, I've been doing that with purses for years. I've got a 33 year old purse that looks brand new, as long as I keep it out of the rain!

Obviously, reaching for that stuff made me think of my BFF.  She is a great seamstress. When I think of the great seamstresses that I know, I think of my sister and her.

But when I take down my sewing basket, Mom fills my mind. We never sat at the machine together or darned or anything like that. But we did little things like sewing on buttons. I watched her thread a needle and learned how to hand sew a lock stitch. It was so amazing to see her do such mundane but valuable things. She was always so overwhelmed by tasks, kids, duties and my antics. To watch her quietly pick up a shirt as if she had nothing else to do and whip up a torn hem or sew on a button -- I was in rapture.

But that must be what most mom's do. Take out time from a crazy day and quietly do what else needs to be done. No muss, no fuss, just do.

And so my sewing basket is precious to me. No, Mom was not a big sewer when I was a kid. But I don't remember any lose buttons or ripped hems, probably thanks to Big Sister or me after I was big enough to handle the scissors without a spanking.

Sister taught me to sew and so much more. But Mom gave me a look that said, "This is important honey, learn it well and tuck it away until you need it. Place it in your catalog of a thousand chores under no muss, no fuss, just do."

I see Mom's look when I pull out the sewing basket.