Shoe Droppings

A few days ago I mentioned that, while I am in a good place in my life currently, there is a foreboding sense that perhaps it is too good to be true,  too good to be lasting.  Perhaps this is setting me up for tragedy.  I do not enjoy feeling this way.  But I have my reasons.


This year has seen tragedy strike my piano studio.  Heart-breaking, devastating tragedy.  The worst kind of tragedy.  Two of my students have lost a parent to death this year.  


At the beginning of the school year the mother of an eight-year-old boy (with two other sons, even younger) was diagnosed with terminal cancer.  She exited this earth just last night, on her birthday.


In February the father of an eight-year-old girl (with another son and daughter, even younger) very suddenly passed away.


The mother that was lost was 38.  The father that was lost was 36.  


There is no sense in this.  This is unjust and cruel.  This is sad beyond any words that can be spoken or written.


These events have shaken me.  To be sure, what I'm experiencing is in no way a comparison to the world-shattering realities both of these families face, and I am not trying to minimize that or elevate where it has taken me.  But these deaths have made me examine my life, question my security, and quite frankly, brought me fear.  


Brian and I are 35.  These things could happen to us.  Why shouldn't they visit our household?  What is keeping tragedy from striking my home?  


I had a moment with my hairdresser (who,like many, has a special knack for  getting me to talk about things I wouldn't normally spill) where I was expressing sorrow for these families.  The night before my appointment I had been in the kitchen with Brian, making a meal, laughing and enjoying his company.  And then I stopped and thought, "here I am having such a sweet moment with my partner, and a few miles away there is a wife who is mourning the loss of her husband, and husband who is caring for a dying wife."  And I felt bad; guilty about the lovely, care-free evening I was able to experience.  I told these things to my hairdresser.  And she, in no uncertain terms, told me that that was exactly what I was supposed to do.  I was supposed to love Brian, hold Brian, and enjoy our time together.  I was not to take that for granted and by having those sweet moments I was helping bring more love to this hurting world.


Many of you know that lately I have been raging over the phrase, "everything happens for a reason."  Not everything happens for a reason.  There is no reason that these six young children should be robbed of their mother and father.  There is no reason this wife and husband should lose their beloved.  


This is not to say that I think nothing happens for a reason.  I do believe that the divine intervenes at times with mystery and infinite wisdom, opening up pathways, providing angels in our lives, or perhaps setting up a road-block.  Sometimes the reason things happen is because of our choices.  But sometimes there simply is no reason.  "Everything happens for a reason" seems to take away our responsibilities as human beings.  Because we are always left with a choice.  We have a choice as to how we use the events in our life.  


These mothers I've referred to, one who survives and one who has passed, have used these events in intentional and life-affirming ways.  The mother who passed shared her experiences, through CaringBridge entries, of living in limbo - trying to live even as she approached what she came to call "her second birth."  She wrote about the joys and the struggles in candid, beautiful and haunting ways; full of grace and always embracing the light.  The mother who lost her husband has shared about that experience as well, through both a blog and honest, heart-breaking, and often hopeful and positive posts on Facebook.  


And both have clung stubbornly to their faith in God.  I use the word "stubborn" because I can't believe their faith just stayed put through these experiences.  I believe they both had to make the audacious decision to remain rooted in this faith.  Regardless of your beliefs, I think you would find both of these women to be inspiring and deeply thought-provoking as they have faced life's most difficult scenarios.  I can't comprehend where they find the strength to carry on.  Still, they have chosen to find beauty and goodness in this life even as they recognize and live with pain.


I don't know where this leaves me.  I don't know that I have a conclusion to all of these thoughts.  I only know that right now I grieve for these families.  But I will also try to celebrate all the beauty they have experienced in their lives, and I will try to celebrate the beauty in mine.  (If you need help finding some beauty, go ahead and watch the video below. May blessing find you where you are.)

Identity Crisis

I am having an identity crisis of blog-sized proportions.  Who am I?  Who is this little blog?  It seems that nowadays everyone has a theme to their blog.  

• There are the cooking blogs with all kinds of healthy, quick, cheap, gourmet, delicious, satisfying, etc. tips a person could possibly desire for any occasion.  I love them.  But these people have the best cameras and photography skills in the world!  Have you seen their food photos?  Go now if you haven't! Mostly I'm jealous of people that make their living this way.
• There are the fashion blogs where a person shows you how she (mostly she) pulls out a dirty hanky, an old tank top from Goodwill, and a clunky bracelet from her dead Aunt Edna's jewelry box, and transforms into a fashion goddess.  (I do not have this skill.  Perhaps I should read more of these blogs.)  Then the blog author models all of these posh outfits.  Who is taking all of these pictures of them!?!?  
• There are the style blogs.  Rinse and repeat the above ideas but instead go dumpster diving for dressers and broken down lamps.  And then voila: your home instantly looks like a stylish New York loft.  Or on the other end, the rooms shown are stylish but completely unaffordable, serving only to make me discontent with what I have.
• There are the, so called, mommy blogs.  Well gang.  I'm not a mommy.  Although I'm sure I could give some awesome advice about how you should raise your children.
• There are the "How to Raise a Family of 15 on $.50 a Month" blogs.  Don't get me wrong.  These blogs have some AMAZING tips - tips I use!  But sometimes I feel about them like I do about extreme couponing.  Which is to say, while I am in awe, I wonder if the time and energy put into cutting costs is truly worth it in the end.  
• There are travel blogs.  These are generally full of helpful tips on saving money, where you should go, what's new and hot, what airlines are best. I only know about the places I've been.  Which may seem like a lot to some of you.  But, it's not nearly enough to start handing out advice.  Also, I only know which airlines I don't like.
• There are knitting blogs: blogs where people knit enough to actually have enough finished projects to show people weekly!!  I may wield my needles like I'm trying to knit my way out of a burning building, but I can't keep up with that pace.
• There are blogs for simple living, organic living, creation care/environmental living.  I'm a total sucker for this stuff.  But I'm not a role model for it.
• Political blogs.  I may go off on a political tangent every now and again but, BLECK!
• Feminist blogs.  I love feminists but we tend to put out some negative energy because when we focus on gender injustices we get, well, pretty ticked.

So I guess in the end, I'm just a standard old "personal" blog; telling my little stories and sharing my life with you.  This space may have elements of all of the above (minus the fashion advice - yikes!) but in the end, I guess I'm just full of words.  Maybe I'll try my hand at some entries that follow the above style of blogging in the next few weeks.  Maybe we'll all wish I hadn't.  :)

About a Birthday Boy

This is the story about a birthday boy who is, at once, both demanding and disturbingly unobservant.


The first part of this story is about Brian's birthday present.  Brian loves to grill, considers it an art form, and makes me much delicious meat.  But the years of hard use have taken their toll on his faithful grill.  Ready to retire the old one, Brian has been eyeing the Big Green Egg variety of grills for a couple of years.  They are cost prohibitive.  Luckily, some new versions of these kamado grills are on the market locally as of this year.  


I had a vision.  Brian would be out of town the three days before his birthday for work.  I would purchase the new grill and have it set up, waiting for him when he arrived.  I couldn't wait for that moment when his eyes would fall upon the new grill, and the recognition of this marvelous thing I had done would light up his face, and he would fall all over me with zealous appreciation.  


So, I purchased the grill, assembled the sucker myself, and waited for our glorious reunion.  He arrived home and immediately I suggested we let the dog out.  We sat on our patio, mere feet from the new grill.  Me, wildly anticipating the moment he would notice.  


Nothing.  Nada.  The dog did his business and we went inside.  


Fast forward an hour.  I come up with another excuse to head out to the patio.  This time I say, "Oh did you notice my cilantro is coming up now."  He would have to face the grill to take in the cilantro.  He swings his head around, says, "how 'bout that," and goes back to staring at nothing.  


Now at this point I'm wondering if this man is playing games with me.  Nobody can be this obtuse.  I become a bit testy because I'm sure he's toying with me.

Fast forward an hour.  I come up with the idea that my plants need watering and won't he come out with me?  Here's where it gets stupid.  I water my plants, that frankly don't need watering, and I ask him if he would please turn off the water and help me wind the hose up.  Feast your eyes upon where the hose is in relation to the grill.  (You may also notice my cilantro to the left.)


He stood, reeling in hose, staring at the new grill and ABSOLUTELY SAW NOTHING!  I briefly considered going back in the house and suggesting he throw something on the grill.  But I could take this charade for not one minute longer.  He walked away from the grill, and I said something to the effect of, "you're so dense."  I agree, it wasn't nice.  Brian, perplexed, walked back to the hose, thinking I was upset because it was leaking water.  At that point I stood by the grill and all but danced my merry jig next to it.  Basically, I pointed at the grill.  He stole every bit of fun out of that gift.  Let's hope it yields some good meat.


Fast forward 24 hours.  We're sitting in a Mexican restaurant for his birthday dinner when I ask him what birthday dessert he'd like me to make him.  (I knew that family was coming over to surprise him that weekend.)  I listed all the usual suspects, things I'm good at making.  Things any mid-western/Mennonite gal is good at making: pie, cake, cupcakes, brownies, etc. He didn't know.  He claimed it all sounded good.  I told him to just pick something then.  He said he couldn't.  


Then he proclaimed: "I want a molten lava chocolate bundt cake with cherry sauce."


?!?!?!?!?!?!


Where in all tarnation did that come from?  


Or, he said, the other option would be homemade cannolis.  


Are you kidding me?  Do I look like I have a hidden Italian grandmother somewhere who has taught me her secrets.  How about we pick something from the repertoire I have established?


I decided to go with the cake option.  Brian, decidedly, made this concoction up in his head based on other desserts he has partaken of.  But for me the search was on to find something that matched his request.  I love trying new things, however, I'd prefer not to do it for company.  Aww geez.


Luckily, I found a recipe that seemed close to fitting the bill.  The Tunnel of Fudge Cake.  (Some of you may remember the original recipe - it was a 1966 Pillsbury Bake-Off winner.  Ahem, my mother remembered it.)  However, this updated version comes from a fellow Hoosier.  I guess we mid-western ladies really can do it all - fancy or plain.

 Here is the link to Annie's Eats blog where I found the recipe.  


I have to say, Brian requested a real winner.  Perhaps this could be a new birthday tradition I could sink my teeth into.

And Now for My Mountain Top Post...

The human spirit really is indomitable.  It does not want to be in the depths.  It fights to buoy itself up, to break through the surface and take a cleansing breath.  There may be moments when we are drinking in mouthfuls of salty water but inevitably (for most of us), we surface.  That is where I'm at today.  At the surface, floating around and enjoying the waves.


Life at the Showalter house is good.  Sometimes I worry that it is too good.  Sometimes I feel guilty about how happy I am, content.  A lot of times it makes me feel as though - even though nothing horrible has happened - I'm waiting for that old proverbial "other" shoe to drop.  Or I guess in this case, I'm waiting for the first shoe.  


At one point in high school I remember lamenting over the fact that I was in a perpetual state of stress.  I was always stressed.  A close friend said to me, "Lisa, you don't know how to function without stress.  If there wasn't anything to stress you out, you would create it."  Ouch.  I wondered if it could be true.  I didn't want to be that person who is just "so busy" and has so much to do and never has time to slow down and enjoy life.  I've held on to the memory of my friend's words and have tried to consciously live in a way that fights this culture's celebration of busy and overworked.  I've not always succeeded.  (I simply don't manage stress well.  I'd love to figure out how to handle things better.  And it's only in the last few years that "no" became a part of my vocabulary.)  But for the last year and a half, I've been slowly learning how to pull it off.


And today I can exclaim contentment.


For the first time in my adult life I am focusing entirely on my chosen vocation: being a piano teacher.  When I began teaching, I was working a full time job as well.  Then I went back to college full time.  After college I juggled teaching with working for my father's business.  From there I transitioned into working at a church.  So here I am, finally, doing one thing - and a thing that I really love.  For a time I felt like I wasn't reaching my potential somehow by only teaching piano.  But it has felt so great, this last year especially, being able to really focus in on teaching, that it's sinking in that this is indeed what I should be doing.  This is enough.  


It is true that I am never going to become wealthy teaching piano (I think this  may be the source of the aforementioned guilt) but I am able to supplement Brian's income as well as take care of this household that I love so dearly without running myself ragged.  Maybe we don't have oodles of excess cash laying around.  But we can pay our bills, take a nice vacation each year, and still have time to enjoy each other's company in reasonably pleasant surroundings.  We will not be sending in our entry forms to the rat race any time soon.  


I will continue to battle stress all of my life, but I am not going to seek it.  Instead I will seek simplicity and peace, even if they are, at times, out of my reach.  For now, I will share with you pictures of my favorite place on earth.  My backyard, the place where I sit and I "consider the lilies of the field."

Where I Park My Tookus

My Sweet Goldfinches

"Pink Lisa" Flowers From a Student

Not Only the Birds Get Thirsty

Many Happy Fires Have Been Held on the Lower Level

This Would Not Be My Blog without a Reggie Picture!  Hoping that you are finding your own places to relax, find peace, and find guilt-free enjoyment.