journeys

Celebrating Birthdays

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Birthdays, to date, I have had 69. Strangely enough, I don’t remember, not even one from my childhood.

I don’t remember my 21st birthday. At the time I lived in Anchorage, AK, and I had two children. I know I didn’t go out and have the first “legal drink” because I rarely drank alcohol until I was in my fifties.

At 30, all I care to remember is that it was a very sad day. On this birthday, I had been living in Washington State for a little over a year. I had moved here with Chris just months after we married. I thought it would be a new and exciting change for me. I always dreamed of Seattle and thought it must be a magical place from watching the 60’s TV show, “Here Come the Brides.”

The alluring theme song just made me want to go there and see for myself.
“ The bluest skies you’ve ever seen in Seattle,
And the hills the greenest green in Seattle.
Like a beautiful child growing up free and wild
Full of hopes and full of fears
Full of laughter full of tears
Full of dreams to last the years in Seattle.”

I came here with lots of dreams for a full life but just like the song goes there were fears and tears as well.

On my 30th birthday I had a fifteen year old son who was going through his own trials. Hard to be fifteen but being uprooted and moved to a new state compounded those issues. It was hard on both of us.

I had a cake, but it was no celebration. Someone took a picture anyway.

Thirty

Fast forwarding through the next 20 years — I have no recollection at all of any celebrations. But, 50, that was a birthday to remember.

Chris and my friend, Sho, secretly conspired together to give me a wonderful birthday weekend. The day before my birthday, Sho and her partners in crime (Yohanna and Rita) took me out on a long day trip to the Olympic Peninsula. Naturally I became suspicious as the day went on and on. It soon became apparent that we were not headed home and I was not sure what the end game was.

Late in the afternoon we arrived at the Manresa Castle in Port Townsend. The castle was built in 1892 by a local businessman and first mayor of Port Townsend, Charles Eisenbeis. After his death the castle was remained empty for the next 25 years. Then in 1927, it was purchased by the Jesuit priests who used as a training college. In 1968 the building was sold again and converted to a hotel. The hotel is rumored to be haunted but it seems all old hotels have that status.

I was told were going to have a girls weekend not just an outing. When were in the lobby checking in, I looked up and saw Josh, my youngest son. That’s when the surprise unfolded.

Chris had invited many of my friends to a weekend birthday celebration. He reserved rooms for them all (of course with Sho’s help) and organized a catered buffet dinner in the dining room.

Along with Chris and Josh were my older sons, Aaron from Denver and Adam from California. Friends from my church family were there, Jennifer, Karen, Ann, Madeline and Mal, Phil and Carolyn, and Becky and Pat. In addition these social friends, co-workers and neighbors were there: Tony and Jen, George and Julie, Tom and Jean, Howard and Ruth and last but not least, my old friend Jim came up from California.

It was a wonderful evening filled with love from my family and these special people in my life. Several of these lovely people got up and said lots of really sweet and kind things about their relationship with me. It was a very humbling experience.

One thing I found very bizarre about the event was that my two worlds collided that day. My spiritual family/friends and my secular friends were there at the time and the same place. It was really an interesting coming together of people who knew me in very different ways.

Sho gave me a book to write about my day and thoughts on life with each passing birthday. I have to admit I kept it up for a few years, but fell behind. Below is an excerpt from that first entry…

September 2005 – Wow, it’s my 50th birthday! Who would have ever thought, but it must be true about getting up early as you get older because I woke up at 4:30 and couldn’t go back to sleep. I laid awake for a while hoping the old hotel didn’t really have any lost souls wandering around. That thought passed quick enough as I had to visit the facilities and nothing grabbed me on my way in the dark.

My dear sweet Chrissie did manage to surprise me with a wonderful birthday at Manresa Castle. Not only did he surprise me he managed to get my sons and about 25 of my most favorite people here as well. Done — all with the help of Ms. Shoshana and Ms. Yohanna. Those two fibbers… more like those two lovers of my soul.

While lying awake in bed I said a prayer of thanks for my friends… I should have more faith and trust, all of my friends love me…. and I am truly blessed by their presence here today.

So here I am today at sixty-nine. How did I get here? I feel like I am about 42, and the realization that I will be 70 next year I find hard to comprehend. The years have flipped by faster than pages in a book.

This morning I once again I woke up at 4:30 and thanks to social media my spirits were immediately boosted by dozens of well wishes from family and friends.

In the 19 years since my 50th celebration at Manresa Castle, some of the friends that attended have passed on, others moved on to different towns and states, and several others just moved on. Thankfully, the majority are still in my life. They are still loving me, supporting me and celebrating me.

I imagine next year at 70 there will be some kind of big to-do. Now I’m thinking if you make it to 70, one really should celebrate. After all life is short and we should really celebrate every year God has granted us.

Number One
Number Sixty-nine

SubTerra: A 33 Year Synopsis

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In 1991 Chris was working in Germany for a Redmond, WA based geotechnical company. He was transferred there to open and manage two new companies in Celle just south of Hamburg and in Claustal-Zellerfeld in the Harz Mountains.

When he left early in the year, we had a one year old son and a son just finishing his Junior year in High school. The plan was he would go, get things started, check out high schools and look for a place to live. I stayed behind while we put the house on the market and took care of organizing on this end.

Long story short, the company kept stalling on finalizing the move of our family and after a year of being apart the ultimatum was given ….. move my family here or… “or” won. So he said goodbye to folks in Germany and drove from Germany to London where he caught a flight home.

After successfully starting businesses for someone else in a foreign country, Chris decided to start a company for himself, be his own boss and in charge of his own destiny. His selling point to me was, “Worst case scenario, if it doesn’t work we’ll spend all our savings, and I’ll go out and get another job.”

With that SubTerra was incorporated on August 7, 1991 in our Redmond home. We chose our logo from an old photograph Chris had of the lighthouse at Beachy Head in England near where he grew up. Initially work came at a coal mine near Steamboat Springs, CO; at Yucca Mountain, NV with the nuclear waste disposal program; and abandoned mine reclamation and tunnel design work in WA state. SubTerra Engineering was started in the UK in 1992.

Josh and I travelled with him as he worked around the country, to Colorado, Nevada, Texas, Utah and overseas to the UK and Germany.  

In 1995, we purchased a brick house in Kirkland across from Lake Washington where we went through the permitting process and renovations to convert it to an office. We hired an engineer, a geologist and a receptionist. Work for them was closer to home around Washington permitting local gravel pits and mining operations. Chris continued to work all around the country and abroad.

In 1999 we became a dealer for Instantel, a Canadian company that manufactured and sold seismographs for blast monitoring and construction vibrations. We hired another engineer and a technician who worked in the field monitoring at local mines and construction sites. 

After several years in Kirkland we moved our offices out of Kirkland to a less crowded location. While we looked for a new permanent home we leased office space in the Preston Office Park just off I90 east of the city. By now we had two engineers, two geologist, two drafters and a receptionist/secretary. Joining this group was our old friend Howard Handewith who had retired from the Robbins Company. He worked part-time on tunnel projects in Singapore and on the Boston Outfall Tunnel project.

In 2000, just 9 years after incorporating we purchased a building in down town North Bend which became our permanent home. The building was built in 1950 and we spent 6 months renovating it and moved in permanently in March of 2001.

Since then North Bend has been our home base. Through all the up and downs of the past thirty-three years, we have seen blessings and trials, when the economy was slow just the right amount of work would walk through the door.  In 2009 Chris began pursuing his passion of helping to advance a tunnel/water conduit to revive the Dead Sea project, this lead to opening SubT Engineers in Israel in 2014. 

SubT Engineers has completed tunnel projects in Tel Aviv (Subway Redline), in Jerusalem (rock tunnels and blasting), and at other locations in Israel.  SubT Engineers is the Licensed Engineer for the KoHav Ha Yarden Pumped Storage project adjacent to the Kinneret / Sea of Galilee and are currently working at Israel’s first Pumped storage Project located at Maale Gilboa (the Heights of Gilboa). 

SubTerra, Inc. has now completed over 1,000 projects involving blast consulting, mining rock mechanics, shaft, tunnel and microtunnel design, geotechnical instrumentation, vibration monitoring and expert services for hundreds of clients.  We work for owners, contractors, large engineering companies and Federal, State and local municipalities.

Chris continues to travel for work across the US, Europe, UK, The Republic of Georgia, Israel, and Canada.  Chris and I have otherwise worked together in this adventure sitting about 20-ft apart for these 33 years.

He is well past the “normal” retirement age but continues his work.  He is tireless, positive, sharp and always looking ahead. In addition to his hard work ethic, he serves on the board for a local organization that seeks to aid those in need of assistance and housing.

So after 33 years, we are working with a smaller crew but still working on large projects with other companies. We may have spent all our savings to get started, but this dream Chris had of working for himself, being his own boss, resulted in a successful small business that has done many  great things around the world.

A Magnificent Vessel

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My womb
A Beautiful form
Like a Greek amphora vessel
With her thin graceful arms
She reaches out to hold
Delicate capsules
Embracing millions of treasures

Precious pearls
Released one by one
Month by month
Year after year
Nearly 40
Each pearl holding
The possibility of new life

This womb
Like the cycles of the moon
Prepared to receive a life
And then time and time again
In disappointment
She shed away the nourishing nest
Only to revive it again

She became the cradle
That caressed the tiny bodies
Of my three sons
She was the warm capsule
Where they were formed
From a single cell
Unseen by the world

My womb was a life giver
She is the essence
Of my feminine
She distinguishes me
As a woman
Present at my birth
This vessel that produced life

She came to life in my youth
And faded away in my old age
We endured the change with grace
Though there were days
That I cursed her
I was in awe of her ability
The miracles she brought

Today she became
My adversary
Within her walls
Grows not life but
An enemy
One that would try
To destroy me

Now I must release
This beautiful friend
She has given me
So much
Soon
I will say goodbye
I will grieve for her

They say she’s old
She no longer fulfills
A purpose
Even if that is so
I cannot toss her aside
As nothing more than tissue
Medical waste

She is more
She has been
The mystery within me
Magical
Wondrous
A masterpiece of God’s creation
Divine by Design

My heart
Is full of sorrow
I don’t want her to leave
But it is time
I am forever grateful
For all the gifts
From this Magnificent Vessel

2024 Trish B ©

Facing Inflammatory Bowel Disease: My Son’s 11-Year Battle

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The post below from 11 years ago came up today on my Facebook page. It serves to remind me of a most desperate time in our family’s lives when our youngest son was facing serious health issues caused by Inflammatory Bowel Disease. This was only the first of life threatening events he would face over the next 11 years. Almost one year later to the date he nearly bled to death after a procedure where an arterial vein was accidentally clipped.

My heart begins to beat faster as I read my thoughts from 2013 and I relive the horror of those days. How could someone so young, become so ill, so quickly? It is IBD, and the myriad of other complications and chronic health conditions that sometimes accompany it, and tragically IBD has no cure.

For my son, it is accompanied by auto-immune pancreatitis, which has led to diabetes; the steroids that he has been given over the years to control inflammation have led to bone deterioration; the five different immune suppressing drugs he has worked his way through can all have horrible side effects including cancer. Three of these drugs proved ineffective, one he had an extreme allergic reaction to and we are praying the current one will show some effectiveness.

Eleven years, and sometimes I still think that “from this side it looks like nothing is happening”… He has been hospitalized annually for months at time, with bowel obstructions, bleeding, inflammation, pancreatitis, and sepsis. I have worried, fretted, prayed and pleaded with God. Some days I think he has closed his ears to my prayers.

I think those things, but I don’t believe they are true. I remember examples in the bible of men, men like David, Job and Paul, all men whom God loved and men who honored and loved God; yet they still suffered. Even, after all these years, I still believe God is in control and he has a plan for my son’s life.

May 19 was World IBD Day. It is a day set aside to bring awareness about IBD and to support the 10 million people worldwide that live with this disease. I will continue to pray. I pray for a cure. A cure so no one has to suffer any longer.

June 6, 2013 – For the past few days sitting quietly contemplating the events of the past two weeks, I have tried fitting the pieces into place. Where the huge decision we faced two weeks ago was to commit to the Remicade treatment. How insignificant that decision seems now. Only three days later Josh was facing major surgery and a few days after that a second surgery and then third surgery to control bleeding – to the point his life was in the balance.

When the bleeding started again three days later Josh again was rushed to ICU. There nurse Steve was methodically checking drains, monitoring his heart rate, drawing blood. Inside I was panicking, remembering Friday evening, wondering why they weren’t starting the transfusions because Friday it had taken so long to get the blood it seemed life was ticking away.

I, trying to remain calm, said to Steve, “you know from this side it looks like nothing is happening.”

He reassured me. He said that they had Josh’s blood type on hand, that if he needed they could get it within minutes, that they want to check the hematocrit levels, monitoring the rate of output on the drains, access whether the bleeding was slowing — do things carefully and in timely manner. Make sure every decision is based on the least risk to Josh’s health. In the end, they did give Josh more plasma and blood; and with that the bleeding stopped.

So I’m here thinking about all of these things and I hear my words to Steve: “From this side it looks like nothing is happening.”

I think sometimes I do the same thing with God. I pray about situations, the future, what God’s plans are for my life and sometimes from this side it appears nothing’s is happening; but I understand that even though it appears that nothing is happening, God is in control. He knows all the details of our lives. He knows all the pieces that must fit together perfectly. He knows when we need life sustaining blood and when more extreme intervention is needed. He also knows when we just need to wait as he watches our vitals, checks where we are losing strength and then he refills us.

A Path Beyond Worldly Careers

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I
may not
have a
career
in the eyes
of the world;
but I feel my
life has touched others
in
a positive way.
I don’t
have the need to prove myself
to the entire world to show
my life has value.
My goals
and aspirations were sacrificed because
of circumstances beyond my control
and poor choices made while
I was still a
child.
I believe
I was given an
above average intelligence
by my Maker,
and I have benefited from it
many times.
I have nothing
to boast about for my mothering;
I’ve made many errors which I
often wish I could change.
I don’t want
to look at what
I could have been,
but at who
I am now;
I am thankful
for the life God has given me.
If my role in life
from the world’s
point-of-view is
that of a
peon,
then I am even more
amazed at the wonders
of
GOD.
My life
may not change history,
but if I try everyday to live It
more like God wants,
if I can show a
little kindness to someone
and help others,
I know God will
remember me when
my life is
over.
This world
offers no rewards…
careers in this world
are only
temporary…
I want
to spend the rest of my life
working at a career
which would exemplify Christ’s life
My failure
at a worldly career
is of no consequence to me;
my career success
is
yet to be
determined.

1987 Redmond, WA

Fifty Year Celebrations

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Someone ask me recently about who I attended the prom with. As I never went a day of high school, it is an obvious assumption I never went to a prom. I would have graduated in 1974 but left school in March 1970. Up until that point I was a straight A student and really without a lot of effort.

In addition, I have never attended any type of ball or fancy occasion. I have never had an evening gown or even a fancy party dress. I guess I’d have to go on a cruise to need a fancy dress, but you are never going to catch me on a cruise ship either!

So, back to the prom. I contacted one of my childhood friends, who I would have graduated with, to inquire about when the prom was held for the Conroe Tigers class of 1974. Interestingly enough, she told me her and her husband did not go, something about it being too foo-foo. However, she sent out a request on social media and found that prom night was April 27, 1974.

Where was I? I was in Anchorage, Alaska at Elmendorf Air Force Base and I had a 9-day old newborn son. Aaron Kelly was born on Thursday morning, April 18, 1974. Back then was still at a time when we did not know the sex of our babes beforehand. I really, really wanted a daughter and for the slightest moment after he was born, I was maybe a little disappointed but that quickly faded when I held that fair haired infant in my arms.

In May, the class of 1974 will be celebrating 50 years since their graduation but next week, I will help my son, one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever received, celebrate his 50th birthday.

I was only 18 when this very special gift entered my world. Since that first day, he has been a blessing and joy in my life. He has always brought joy to my heart, made me smile, made me proud, made me know I was loved. He served his country and he served over 22 years as a police officer. During that time he saved many lives, rescued abducted teens, sought justice for the elderly and abused, and helped people on one of the worst days of their lives. One day, I believe he will see the results of all the good he did. Although there is no thanks sometimes in this world, my hope is that in the end God will show him all the fruits of his actions. I hope to be there to see them too.

I never experienced the traditional high school teen events and I don’t have a 50th Class Reunion to attend but I am not feeling deprived, I was blessed with a gift that never stopped giving.

I love him and he loves me and that’s the way it will always be.

Remember Me

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I have heard it said, “What other people think of you is none of your business.” I suppose that how others remember you, may well be the same. However, I do want to be remembered.

The question is, how? How will I be remembered?

Looking back on my life, I have no doubt some will have negative memories of me. I have negative memories of myself for things that I did or said and regrets over relationships that I walked away from, poor moral judgement, anger that I could not or did not control.

Others, the ones that matter, will hopefully remember that I always let them know that I cared about them and loved them. I have tried to share my blessings with others, be supportive and listen when they deal with the trials of life. Maybe they’d see or remember these things.

I hope they remember me as a person who was an overcomer, that regardless of my rough start in life, I was always striving to improve myself and not let hardships knock me down for long.

Most importantly, I want to be remembered by God. He knows my struggles, my doubts, my failings and the times that I heard His voice and followed His call. I pray I never hear “I never Knew you; depart from me…”1

“Do not remember the sins of my youth or my transgressions; According to Your lovingkindness remember me, For Your goodness’ sake, O Lord.” 2

  1. Matthew 7:23 NKJV ↩︎
  2. Psalm 25:7 NASB 1995 ↩︎

Photo credit: Unsplash ~Landon Parenteau

To Muffet with Love

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Thanks to the internet and social media apps like Classmates and Facebook I have reconnected with several school friends.  I cannot really say from high school because I never went a day of high school, but I had a few childhood friends that remained in my heart.

The first person I reconnected with was Pattie. In 2006, she was my birthday present as Chris paid for a trip for her to come visit me in Seattle.  We rediscovered each other in a whole new light, through adult eyes and not those of a child.  

Pattie and I only had a few years to reconnect when sadly she left this earth much too soon. I was heartbroken and shocked… the one friend I had contact with from my broken ugly childhood was gone.

At that time I had been on Classmates for 10 years. In all that time I never heard from anyone, and then the day after I learned that Pattie had died, I got a message.

The next day! I was flooded with love, that someone would remember ME and reach out to ME because I always felt I longed to be friends with others, more than anyone wanted to be friends with ME.  

This message was from Muffet.  Growing up, she lived in Sunset Ridge a development of brick homes off Hwy 75 outside of Conroe. I lived across the highway in a older wooden house, a house where the walls in my room were not finished and just open studs. Visiting Muffet’s house was like a fantasy experience. She had beautiful white carpet in her bedroom and I would take off my shoes and wriggle my toes in the fibers; her room was a princess-land.

Muffet had beautiful long hair that her mother would braid and roll around in a bun on top of her head. She looked angelic or like she should be picking flowers somewhere in the Swiss Alps. She was lovely inside and out.

Beyond material things, Muffet was a kind, sweet friend that accepted me, this strange girl who was a square peg in a world of round holes.

After that initial note, we began to correspond regularly and later connected on social media. She included me as part of a group that I left at 14, but a group of people I grew up with and often wondered how life changed for them.

She prayed with me for my son through his hard days with surgeries and setbacks. She gave me hope that God can heal as she shared the health crisis she endured with her own child. We were both caretakers for our elderly mothers, she more hands on with hers as she lived close by. Me more administrative with mine although I did make several trip a year to see her.

On one of those trips in 2018, we finally reconnected face to face. The first time since 1969, it was like we never skipped a beat. We spent two hours laughing, sharing and reminiscing. A wonderful cherished time.

So, back to Muffet’s original message in 2009, was it a coincidence she wrote to me at this critical time? Several times in my life I believe God has arranged events and sent people to comfort me and show me his love just when I need it most.  No, Muffet’s note and whatever the process was that she found me and decided to write, was a gift from God. It was as if God was saying, “I love you, Trish.”

Sunday, is Muffet’s birthday. This friend who has been a gift from God to me. Thank you Muffet for caring enough to contact me. I treasure these past few years of reconnecting and sharing. I look forward to when we can meet face to face again. Muffet, not to sound too Golden Girlish… “Thank you for being a friend.”

Happy Birthday ~ I love you.

Closing Doors

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“You’ve got to know when to hold ’em

Know when to fold ’em

Know when to walk away

And know when to run…”

Maybe I shouldn’t lump relationships into a country western song but I find myself walking away from long term ones. Two this year, and I sometimes wonder if like this verse from years ago, if it is just time, quite possibly, to run.

It brings a sense of sadness but also lifts a burden off my heart.

With the first, the beginning of the end started with a conflict of beliefs, very quickly I could see there would be no, “agreeing to disagree.” I have always lived by the motto, if you can’t say something nice, it is best to remain silent. So what started with a discussion, ended in my silence. When attacks began about my personal religious beliefs – about my salvation — about my son’s trials — that’s when I shut down.

The anger that ensued during the time I remained silent was vicious to the point I could not even read the messages that were coming. Each one proclaimed to be the last but they continued one after another. I did not understand how it turned into this, but I could not endure the damage to my soul and spirit any longer and without another word, I blocked her.

The second, is a woman 13 years my junior that I knew casually until she found herself expecting and single at 42. She never married and this child was her first and only. During this time and forward for many years, I provided emotional, practical and many times financial support.

It is hard to make it in this life. She was separated from her family and the child’s father dodged support in every way he could. Chris and I have always lent a helping hand for those who needed to get back on their feet. This young mom was no exception. However over the years it became a never ending story of drama after drama. There was always an elaborate story associated with the drama and I began to discover they were not always true.

Such is the case in the latest drama. A call that took Chrissie, in his 70’s, out in a winter storm to the mountain pass with a can of gas when in fact she knew she was not out of gas; it was a bigger issue that needed a tow.

Her drama and her issues came first to her, regardless of the risk to others. She knew I was upset after this four hour debacle. I have not heard from her in a month and I have not contacted her.

Now, I find myself thinking it is for the best. Quite possibly I have just been an enabler over the years.

After weeks of struggling with both of these relationships, after weeks of praying about how to respond, I believe I am lead to remain silent as the doors close on both. I have forgiven. I have written about relationships before many awesome ones and others that just didn’t work out. There are three types as the old saying goes, ones that are there for A Reason, A Season or A Lifetime. Perhaps with these two, I was in their life or they were in mine for a “Reason” and a “Season” but it is over now.

“Sometimes you choose to forgive people even though you know

they cannot remain in your life.” ~ Me

Lyrics: The Gambler by Don Schlitz
Photo by Dima Pechurin on Unsplash

Why Me Lord?

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He’s in the hospital again. Swedish hospital in Seattle. I was going to see him last night, but it was so dark and pouring rain that I struggled about whether I should go or not. In the end I decided against it.

This morning I heard on the news that there had been a terrible accident on the interstate westbound to Seattle. After the accident one of the drivers tried to cross the eastbound lanes of I-90 and was hit and killed. It seems I was wise to follow my instinct and better judgment, or could it have been God leading me to make a wise choice.

Tonight, the rain had eased up, so I went to Seattle. On the way home at 8PM the traffic was still heavy, it was dark and had started to rain heavily. I turned on some music to relieve some stress. Two songs came on my Apple Music one after the other, and I repeated them all the way home. The first was this one by Kris Kristofferson ~ “Why me Lord?”

This video tells the moving back story of Kristofferson‘s song.

He wrote the song after a spiritual experience he had in 1972. He attended a church service and during the invitation he was overpowered with the love and forgiveness from Yeshua (Jesus). The song imparts his feelings of unworthiness of such love from God.

On a side note, hearing this song brought back memories of my youngest son when he was about 5 years old. Once when the song was playing, he wondered why KK was saying “Why Me Lord?” He thought maybe he was asking God why his voice was so deep. ❤️

The second was “Fall On Me” by Joel Chernoff. It is duet with Sharon Wilber. It is a love song and a plea to the Lord to touch one’s life and be filled with the spirit of God. It reminded me that God is faithful and I only need ask for more of him.

My spirit has been struggling of late like many others. I look around and see all the anger, all the immorality, all the suffering and mostly all the hate and it is disheartening. Added to that is the anxiety that comes when Josh is in the hospital. I wonder will he ever know a cure, or will he suffer endlessly? I have a deep nagging fear that he is slowly dying because if the disease and it’s comorbidities don’t take his life, the strong medications he takes to suppress his immune system will. Many of these drugs come with warning that than can cause cancer. He is currently on his fifth one after having four others fail.

This morning, while driving into work another song played. It was “My Grace” by my friend in Israel, Pam Singer. In her lyrics she asks, “Is this Grace enough? Will tender mercies see me through?”

The reply she hears is: “My Grace Enough, My tender mercies new everyday. I crown your life with strength and loving kindness. My eyes are on you. My presence near My ear would hear the cry of your heart. I call you Mine, beloved forever. My Grace Enough.”

So what is the point of all my rambling here. 

1. I was worried about not going to see Josh on Wednesday evening, but later discovered that by not going, I was saved from the interstate shutdown and accident. 

2. After I went last night, I left feeling dispirited and out of the 900+ songs in my music library, two songs came on that reminded me that, a) I have done nothing to deserve God’s blessings and love and, b) all I have to do is ask him to fill me again, and again each day with his spirit.

3. This morning Pam’s song played as a reminder that no matter what I am going through, not matter what I am agonizing over, God’s Grace is enough. He hears me. He knows my heart and I am loved by Him.

Faith

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Hebrews 11:1 says, ” Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”

Last night I read Mitch Albom’s book “Have a Little Faith.” In some ways I could relate to his journey and like him, I have had times that my relationship with God was distant, but I have never walked away. In the past I had periods of time when my faith was weak but the older I am the stronger my faith has become.

I once read that faith is not just the belief in something unseen but it is total complete trust in something. Trust for me was a building process because of my childhood I have struggled with trust. Not just trust in God, but trust in family and trust in friends.

However, over time I have experienced many examples of true love and compassion from all of these. I have a small group of friends and select family that have proved themselves faithful time and time again.

In the same way, God has shown me His compassion, His love, His strength, and each time it gave me one more brick of faith and trust to stand on. When trials come, I have those bricks from His past faithfulness to rely on for the courage to face each day. Where I once fell apart, I may now mourn and grieve but I know God has a plan and He will see me to the other side.

The amazing thing is that before my trust was weak and wishful, it is now a solid and a sure belief that no matter what the world says, my trust is built on evidence of His care and love. It is in this, that my faith is strong.

He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress; My God, in Him I will trust.”
~ Psalm 91:1-2 NKJV

Photo courtesy of Unsplash – Alex Shute

*** Mitch Albom is a best selling author and his books always have a lesson or experience. in which I strongly relate. The book “Have a Little Faith,” is a true story in which he speaks of his faith and a relationship with his Rabbi and a Christian pastor and what he learned from each of them. It was released in 2009 but if you’d like to read it you can find good preowned copies online.

Living Year to Year

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With a little less than 48 hours left in 2023, I found this note that keeps popping up that I wrote in 2013. That year was a stressful hard year. My youngest son, a 22 year old college student, spent five months in the hospital, after three surgeries he had nearly exsanguinating bleed and spent weeks in the ICU.

Ten years later, I read these words and see that I made it through that year with the love and support of my family and friends. In reality we make it through every year with their support… with them, we make it through Life!

As I look back on 2023, I do so knowing that I followed my own advice here. I look forward to 2024 and as I often say, “I try to live everyday as if it might be my last at the base of the mountain near the river.”

Down to 48 hours left in 2013.

Going to think through the ups and downs, happiness and heartaches, blessings and curses, those who I lost and those who I still have close to love and appreciate. In that final group, my family and friends including you my Facebook friends and family, who encouraged me, prayed for my family and helped me through this long year.

I thank you and wish for you all a new year of success, warm times with your family, and peace.

I still remember the words from CBS reporter Lee Cowan after the marathon bombing. (The bombings) ” do remind us we don’t get to set life’s clock. While we may think we’ll have a tomorrow to say all the things we want to say, or should have said, what this week proved is that sometimes, that tomorrow doesn’t come — and the things left unsaid could end up one of our greatest regrets. “

Have no regrets. Tell your loved ones how much you care for them, forgive and heal old wounds if at all possible, if not forgive yourself. Live everyday to its fullest and if you are reading this know you are appreciated and loved by me. 💕

The Star

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After the star has fallen on Christmas night
And the Christmas trimmings have left our sight,

Try to hold onto the joy and love
Like peace that flows from the wings of a dove.

When the world gets crazy at the turn of the year,
And dissent and anger brings doubt and fear,

Draw from the well where peace imparts
A peace that lingers in your heart.

Be jolly and lighthearted come what may…
Fight despair and stay out of the fray.

Hold tight to the spirit joyous
Otherwise bitterness will surely destroy us.

Recall the serenity the season brings,
Where eternal hope always springs.

Because the star came with a promise true,
That peace on earth is possible too.

© Trish B. 2017

Farthest Journey

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It is said, mostly in Chinese proverbs, that “A journey of a thousand miles, begins with a single step,” and “A thousand mile journey begins where one stands.” I have been fortunate enough to have traveled many thousands of miles to different places.

In 1977, I traveled from Houston Texas to Seoul, South Korea – 7035 miles. In 1991, I went to Celle, Germany from Seattle – 4964 miles. In 2000, I made my first trip to Israel – 6,816 from Seattle and in 2015 I traveled from Seattle to Brisbane, Australia for a total of 7,357 miles. So just by total distance traveled, Australia wins.

However, if we go back to the Chinese Proverb, about a journey beginning with a single step, the furthest I have traveled on foot was in 2001. At the time I was attending a Messianic congregation in Bellevue, WA. They had acquired a new property in Newcastle, the next town over and being part of a metropolitan area one really could not tell where one ended and the other began.

As part of this move they planned to walk with their Torah Scroll to the new location. The The Torah (or Pentateuch) contains the five books of Moses: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy. It is considered by the Jewish people as their gift from God, their guide to life filled with with His wisdom. According to Jewish tradition when a synagogue closes its doors or relocates, the Torah scrolls are moved by careful ceremony. It is said that the journey to the new synagogue is modeled on the journey the Jews made to the Promised Land with the Ark of the Covenant, and many believe they are carrying the heart and soul of the congregation.

The distance to the new location was 8.5 miles. At the time I was forty-six years old and JD, my youngest son, was twelve. We decided to join in the walk. Many people were preparing for the event by building up their endurance. When I was asked if I was “training,” I replied that I was not. I had been to both places and by car, I was healthy and it didn’t really seem to be an insurmountable task.

JD and I showed up early for the walk. The Torah was carried by different members of the congregation and anyone that wanted a turn at carrying the Torah was welcome to do so. The Torah was covered by a tent that was a Jewish prayer shawl (a Tallit) held up by a pole at each corner. There were four people carrying the poles and those positions were also switched out along the journey. We walked along the city streets, a group of maybe 40 of us, we sang, we shared stories, we laughed and waved to the curious passersby.

The trip went really well for the first say, 7.5 miles, then as the day warmed up I began to get tired. Also, as we entered Newcastle there was a slight incline that made the walk a little more difficult. As we got closer to the new location, other members began to join in the walk for the last mile. They were excited (not tired) and full of energy and it seemed the pace picked up a little. The last half mile, I really had to push myself.

At last we made the final turn to the new location, it was about a third of a mile (approximately 5 city blocks) up a steep incline. I was at the back of the pack by now and I literally drug myself to the top one-hard-push-at-a-time.

When we arrived there was singing and celebrating and food for all. I was hot and my face was as red as a beet. I stayed a short while but thought it best to head home while I could still move. When I got home it was about 3 in the afternoon. I took a shower, went to bed and didn’t not wake up until the next morning.

When I think about my journey, I think of the many journeys the Jewish people have made over the years and the hardships they endured when they were exiled and and thrown out of their homes, towns and countries. During the pogroms they left with the only the belongings they could carry on their back or maybe in small wagons. The treks were long and arduous but I am sure the Torah scrolls went with them.

There are approximately 2,350 steps in a mile for a woman my height. That day I only made a 20,000 step journey, far from a thousand miles, but it still started with a single step and a determination to finish.

My journey was a joyous celebration and although I did not prepare for the journey, my walk made me reflect on the tradition and how even during persecution and strife the Jewish people honored the Torah on every journey of a thousand miles they were forced to make.

8/12/23

Miracles

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I have given miracles a lot of thought while traveling the past few weeks. I was trying to sort out what I believe. When I thought of miracles I was thinking of the great ones Yeshua performed, healing the sick and raising the dead.

I wondered if these miracles happen today? I have heard people tell stories of going to third world countries and witnessing such healings, but I, the constant questioner of things I cannot see, have doubts. I surely have prayed for miraculous healings, for great supernatural showing of power to overthrow injustice and evil, but my eyes have not seen.

As I pondered these thoughts, I realized I still wanted to say, I believe in miracles but wonder if the time for the extremely awesome and breathtaking ones has passed.

Then I realized. There are no monumental or small miracles… everyday is a miracle. It is miraculous that not by my own power, I can turn a knob and clean fresh water comes from the tap, that I flip a plastic switch and I have light, or that I can reach the world from a small 4×6 device that I hold in my hand.

Last week I traveled from one side of the country to the other in a large metal tube with wings. It weighed hundreds of thousands of pounds yet it lifted into the air like a leaf blowing in the wind and took me thousands of miles in a few short hours.

The week before that I witnessed a huge rainbow that stretched across the sky over the Pacific Ocean. It filled me with a sense of awe and wonder of the beauty of this world. It took me above the fray on the ground to see the bigger picture of life.

Life, life is a miracle. The very fact that we are here on this earth is a testament to miracles. My ancestors going back thousands of years survived extreme hardships, famines, wars, diseases and countless other obstacles to produce offspring that finally resulted in my birth. I have read that the odds that I am here living on earth is in the trillions. The same holds true for all the over eight billion people in the world. That is one enormous miracle.

Yes, I believe in Miracles.

Sixty Years Ago ~ November 22, 1963

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The assassination of President John F. Kennedy.

It was just a few months after my 8th birthday. I was in the second grade and we lived at 1111 So Fifth Street, Conroe, TX.

It was a Friday. I was on the school bus going home. My bus stop was at the corner of Silverdale and Fifth Street. As I was getting off the bus the driver told me.

It is one of those events that you never forget where you were when you heard. I remember stepping down the three short steps of the bus, the walk down the block to our house, my mother’s tears, the shock and the sadness.

President Kennedy was buried the following Monday. There was no school that day and I watched the funeral on a black and white TV with the rest of my family.

Hard to believe sixty years have passed. It was in the beginning of the sixties, it was the beginning of a decade of changes; civil rights movement, feminism, the sexual revolution, war protests, countercultural revolutions, and assassinations. .

Just five years later in the summer before my 13th birthday on April 4, 1968 and June 6, 1968, first Martin Luther King, Jr and then Robert F. Kennedy were assassinated. As I watched the news, I sadly realized that real evil exists in the world and hate destroys.

Now I have reached the age where I wonder if anything has really changed for the better in my lifetime.

As I remember those brave and inspiring men who stood for change I wonder if they died in vain because we as a nation are still divided, we still see our fellow citizens as enemies, we still hate and real evil still exists.

My Best Job

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I am going to rate the best job I ever had by the lasting friendships that have remained from it. Not counting the current job I have had for 32 years, the best job I ever had was at Dateline Technology in Bellevue, WA in 1984 when I moved to Washington.

Other than the one day I worked as a temp and left crying at lunch, Dateline was my first job here. It was a technology company that sold and installed Prime and Wang data storage systems. It was owned by two ex-Prime Computer employees. One had been an engineer and the other a marketing manager, Joe and Jack.

When I started there, other than Joe and Jack, there were five other guys, they were technicians and installers. Seven guys and me. Although I was only 28 years old, I was affectionately referred to as the “den mother.”

It was a growing business and in just a few years there were over twenty of us.  Joe and Jack made Dateline a fun and challenging place to work. In a few short years they made record sales and the guys were traveling all over the US installing systems. I was the secretary, girl Friday, and later bookkeeper. I handled all the travel arrangements for the guys in the field and kept in contact with them. Sometimes they head out for two places and end up to going to four other places in several states before they made it back home.

Once we had a holiday party where they celebrated the sales and success of the prior year.  After dinner, Joe and Jack played a game of “Price is Right,” employees had guessed total sales for the year, profits and sales projections.  The winner in each category was the person whose guess came the closest without going over. Since I was doing bookkeeping by this time, I did not play along. They handed out some really nice prizes to the winners.

The last prize was a simple drawing for a small radio/tv so I could participate. Jack reached in a pulled out a name…it said “Wink Martindale!”  One of the sales guys jumped up and began dancing around the room singing the notes to the “Price is Right” theme song.  Jack looked around and said, “I don’t know a Wink Martindale.”  He drew another name and I won!  I still have that little TV at the office and even though it doesn’t work on any system available today, every time I see it, it makes me smile.

At that same party there was a young woman who was our receptionist, Shannon. At one point in the evening we got up and went to the ladies room together. When we came back and sat down there was a moment of dead silence, then all 12 of guys stood up and left the room (supposedly all going to the restroom like women do… together). We sat there and laughed and laughed.

It was a fun place, we were like a family. Sadly as with a lot of successful small businesses, they had growing pains and later conflicts between Joe and Jack on financial issues and the direction for the future. I left there when my old boss, a lobbyist for Sun Oil Co. in Colorado, moved to Washington and offered me a job. Shortly after I left, they sold to a California company. A couple of the guys moved to California to work for this new company, but most found new jobs.

Of the original seven from when I started, I am still in contact with four of them: Jim, Dave, Steve and Terry.

Jim lives in California now; he was like a brother to me and my kids still call him Uncle Jim. Over the years we have visited California and Jim would go with us to Disneyland. He was like a kid and would spend hours on Tom Sawyers Island with Josh.

Dave lived with us for a while after Dateline sold. He was from Massachusetts and he moved back to the East Coast. After moving back he got married a lovely lady named Lynne. We still communicate via Facebook and he sent the kindest note a few years back that made me realize I’m part of something bigger.

The note read: “I spoke to the (church) group about how important the YMCA and the Boy Scouts were to me but to my friend beside me and to Lynne later, I spoke of a person that has made me believe and think of God more than anyone in my life; a person that held out their hand to a young man that moved across country and didn’t have many friends made me feel special and a part of her family. This person opened my eyes to church more than a young Catholic man had seen before and it awoke a desire for more that I am just now understanding and I thank the Lord for you everyday. For many years I could only read stories now I can act and talk my faith. I believe in the power of prayer and my heavenly woman you and Chris have opened your home and your heart to me and I can never repay you for all you have done for me.”

I never imagined.

Steve lives in Joyce, WA on the Olympic Peninsula with his wife Elizabeth.  When I was pregnant with Josh, I got a job as an administrative assistant at the company where Elizabeth worked, so I had worked with them both, and they both remain friends.

Terry who was one of the electrical engineers used to live here in the same town in North Bend, and we would see each other occasionally, but he has since retired and moved to Oregon.

I never heard from Jack after I left. He was more my boss than Joe was, and I think he was upset at my leaving and never really forgave me.

I did casually stay in touch with Joe. When JD was born he and his wife came to visit and brought a gift. It was a yellow sweater with little ducks on it that his wife had knitted. Joe sadly died from Lou Gehrig’s disease in 2008. Chris and I had gone to visit him a few years before that, he had lost all movement below his chest but could still speak. He had been a ballroom dancer and visiting him and seeing him this way was hard. Hard visit for us, but I know it was a blessing to him.

In summary, Dateline was the best job while it lasted, just shy of three years, and it created several of the “best friendships” that have lasted for nearly forty.

That’s me in a sales brochure that went out in 1986. I was pretending to be a technician. Jack was trying to emphasize what a progressive company we were employing women in high tech jobs. In truth I did not even know how to turn the thing on and I don’t really think it fooled anyone.

Take Me to Paradise

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If I could turn back time, travel back to any country and any era and come back completely safe where might I go?

I have given this a lot of thought over the past week and I have to say honestly that every place, every time, that I can think of has its horrors and inconveniences. Even if I could come back safe and unharmed, I don’t know that I would want to carry the burden of the things I might witness. My current lifetime has enough sorrows of its own.

I don’t want to see the horrors of wars, bloody wars, world wars. I don’t want to see slavery, or indentured servitude. People dying from diseases we have, for a time at least, conquered.

No matter how romantic Jane Austen made the 1800’s seem I think it was not so great for the masses. I am accustomed to modern conveniences, I like my hot showers and working plumbing. I don’t know that I would like to see sewage running in the street or cold baths in dirty water.

I can keep going back in time and I am sorry to be a pessimist but I just don’t see anything I want to witness, it was a hard life and hard times for the majority of the people in any age; hardline religious views, cruel and overbearing rulers, unsanitary conditions, food shortages, inadequate protection from the elements, lack of healthcare.

Now, possibly, if given the choice, I would like to see the future. I guess I’ve reached a certain age where I see changes that I think are taking society down a wrong path. I might find it reassuring to know that the choices the generation behind me are taking are ones leading down a road to peace, happiness and a better life for all. I might want to see how my children and grandchildren’s lives turned out. I would love to see them happy and know they enjoy the beauty around them, the blue sky, the wildflowers, the warm sun and cool breezes.

However, that is not the choice. So, if I could go back, take me to the Garden of Eden. Especially if it is on a beach, with coconuts, fruits and flowers and lush gardens, and make it near a warm place with gentle breezes — no winter, no snow please. Let it rain warm showers, followed by sunshine, so that I can nap under the shade of a large oak tree with the soft sounds of a waterfall in the background. Everyday would have glorious golden sunrises and fiery red sunsets, it would be a paradise. Finally and ideally, there would be no wild beasts to attack, but sadly as we all know there would still be serpents… I am not fond of snakes and we all know the one in the Garden of Eden is one that caused all the other stuff I don’t want to see since the beginning of time.

Not Eden but maybe close. Butchart Gardens, Victoria, BC, 2016

Tea Bee ~ March 15, 2023

Just a Little Rock and Roll

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Music… I grew up deep, deep in the heart of Texas. Until I was 14 the only music I heard was gospel music and country. Not modern country but old country Jim Reeves, Marty Robbins, Tex Ritter, Johnny Cash, Tammy and George and Loretta.

There was no other music and rock and roll was the devils music. When I got married and left home and eventually Texas a whole new world opened up but I never strayed far. The first song I remember that wasn’t country was “Love Grows Where my Rosemary Goes,” by Edison Lighthouse. Funny because I heard it just the other day and I instantly flashed back to 1970 in Houston, Texas riding in a 1962 red Ford Thunderbird, windows down and radio blaring. I was free, pregnant and the world was my oyster.

In the 70’s, I treasured a lot of early 70’s pop rock and maybe I got into a little old time rock and roll from the 60’s but never got into anything much crazier. A lot of those songs take me back to Florida, sunshine and palm trees. It was a great life.

After Florida I moved to Alaska, had another child and now at 18, I was discovering more about myself. A neighbor gave me the John Denver album, Windsong, and she told me the song “Looking for Space,” reminded her of me and where I was in life. I loved it and it is still a song about me. That album was the beginning of a love for John and his music.

I migrated from there to other folk artists, Jim Croce, Gordon Lightfoot, Eddie Rabbit, Elvis, James Taylor, Kris Kristofferson, Simon and Garfunkel and Willie Nelson. I still like old country and some newer stuff but ballads and folk are still my style. I am pretty simple and boring. On my phone I have favorites from almost all of these artist mixed in with a little Fleetwood Mac, John Lennon, 60’s rock and roll, folk music and lots of worship music.

My favorite rotates depending on my mood. Last week when I was mowing the lawn, I replayed Joni Mitchell’s, “The Circle Game” by Tom Rush over and over again. Listening to it made me think of Josh and how he was so full of life and filled with inspiring dreams and about how quickly time passes. It was a melancholy afternoon.

So back to my first favorite, the song that I still relate to, “Looking for Space“…

On the road of experience
I’m trying to find my own way
Sometimes I wish that I could fly away
When I think that I’m moving
Suddenly things stand still
I’m afraid ‘cause I think they always will

And I’m looking for space
And to find out who I am
And I’m looking to know and understand
It’s a sweet, sweet dream
Sometimes I’m almost there
Sometimes I fly like an eagle
And sometimes I’m deep in despair

All alone in the universe
Sometimes that’s how it seems
I get lost in the sadness and the screams
Then I look in the center
Suddenly everything’s clear
I find myself in the sunshine and my dreams

And I’m looking for space
And to find out who I am
And I’m looking to know and understand
It’s a sweet, sweet dream
Sometimes I’m almost there
Sometimes I fly like an eagle
And sometimes I’m deep in despair

On the road of experience
Join in the living day
If there’s an answer
It’s just that it’s just that way
When you’re looking for space
And to find out who you are
When you’re looking to try and reach the stars

It’s a sweet, sweet, sweet dream
Sometimes I’m almost there
Sometimes I fly like an eagle
And sometimes I’m deep in despair
Sometimes I fly like an eagle
Like an eagle
I go flying… High

Trish B, July 02, 2023

Yesterday When I Was Young

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When I was in my teens and twenties I honestly thought I would die young but since I will be 68 this year, my mind has changed and I don’t believe that any longer! That belief came from the fact that I experienced so much before I was even “of age” and I felt that because I was moving through life in the fast lane, I would reach my end sooner.

However, in all seriousness, another thing I have changed my mind about is whether or not – Life Is Fair – or that we can make it fair and equal for everyone. Not to say we should not help others, but overall we cannot not change what hardships, through fate, are going to enter someone’s life.

I wrote a blog about this a few years back, and it seems we can give people things that make life seem more equitable, but there are unexpected things in life that happen for which we have no control.

A person can do everything that’s righteous and upstanding, they can help others and yet life seems to hand them one cruel blow after another. Contrasting that, it seems there are those who are wicked and unjust who breeze through life, taking advantage of the poor and weak and they seem apparently blessed with good fortune.

We, as humans, can try to level the playing field but it is God who is in control of our lives and although we may not understand, we are instructed to not lean on our own understanding. (Proverbs 3:4-5) and reminded that our ways and thoughts are not His ways and thoughts. (Isaiah 55:9).

So more than having changed my mind about life and fairness, I am learning to accept that life is is good, no matter what the circumstances. Whatever hardships I face, are mine to face. In the same way others have their own hardships and lessons to face on their journey through life. May each of each find the courage to see us through.

https://emyloomwordswovenwithinmyheart.com/2021/04/24/fairness-in-life/