Let Me See Your Feet

A couple days ago, I pulled out my old NIV study Bible and found it chuck full of my thoughts written down on sticky notes, envelopes, yellow lined paper and scribblings in margins telling a story about places I have been, discoveries I've made and days gone by. I didn't want to lose them so I'm writing a few of them here.

Feet #1

A Story About Dave

"Let me see your feet." Those words were spoken every time Dave and I visited his mom and dad. Off came the shoes and socks. Out came the salves, bandaids, dressings, clippers, files and lotions. For the next 30-60 minutes, Mom and Dad's feet were reviewed, reorganized, contemplated and prioritized. I remember Dave on his hands and knees rummaging through his supplies, up and down, up and down, in and out of the bathroom retrieving this and that. A lot of activity! He touched and rubbed and soothed every inch of 20 toes, fussing over pink and wounded flesh. Occasionally a yip would fly out of Mom's mouth when the nursing got a little aggressive on her bad big toe. What I really remember though is how much they enjoyed the whole process of being doted over and meticulously tended to by their son. Their son. He did this thing for them with ease and skill that dumbfounded me. Even the foot doctor told him that he had missed a calling. I can still see the picture in my mind today: Ben and Eva, sox off, arms folded on chests, being loved by their son.

Old Feet 

Feet in places they should not be,

Sloshing and slipping breeds a breakable me.

Falling into deep and deeper walled up places.

Caught. 

Afraid and getting frantic. 

Feet in places they ought not be. 

How came we here, little feet?

Why surprised old feet?

Foolish feet!

Why walk this way?

The same crooked path 
runs to the same dead end.

Find a new path. 

The way to climb out of this pit.

Find the anchor, the rock, the truer map. 

Find the builder of the better path.

New Feet 

I have a love who is a shepherd. 

Trusted and true. 
This love and I, we hold hands, walk and talk. 
Just walk and talk.

I am watching me, with him loving me.

Looking down at four feet walking, 
I get the idea to walk my feet onto his 

and hold on tight so we can dance.

Where he steps, I step. 
We are one person traveling along. 

Doing a weightless, effortless dance. 
It feels so light. Moving light and easy. 
Like floating.

Let's sit and rest for a while. 

The place is soft and green and gently quiet here. 

He is brushing my hair. 
Just brushing my hair.

"How are things with you?" wonders my Shepherd Love.

"I've been a little afraid. 
People don't seem to like me too much.

Some places I'm afraid to go now.

I feel like someone is plotting something mean against me."

"Well, let me show you how I see things."

From out of a pack, suddenly tumble 
hundreds and hundreds of photographs,

 picture after picture of me with him. 

He is in every picture with me. He is us.

Everywhere is safe. Every place a dance. 

We are one person traveling along together.

63 and flying

I turn 63 this Wednesday. Just like everyone else, I don't know how, can't believe I am this old already. I feel 35 everyday. Don't look 35, just feel it. I love my life, every aspect of it. But one of the things I love the most is looking back at all the things I have learned, all the things I have been able to do that a young person can only dream about. I have taken a midnight ride in a canoe on the Nile River with Arab men who were total strangers to me and my 2 very blonde girlfriends.

I have stood in front of the Sphinx and the Pyramids of Giza.

I have hiked through the jungle near the equator to the cremation of a Balinese Prince and delighted in the piles of fruit that were perched upon the heads of the mourners who walked along side the float that delivered the dead prince to his burial pile.

I have traveled down a red dirt road lined with gum tree forests to peer inside a cave at Aboriginal Hand Paintings.

I have sat across the table from patients who were crying because they didn't know how they would possibly handle a life with diabetes in it and then seen them leave my office with a smile on their face because now they knew where to start and how to make it happen.

I've laid next to a river in the Sierra in the pouring rain fearfully wondering exactly how Dave and I were going to die when the river purged its banks…would it be quick or slow?

I've played golf with a caddie at a fancy country club and with kids at Las Po and found I like playing with kids far better.

So, I was thinking this morning of some of the wisdom that has crept into my life because I have had the privilege of living 22,995 days, some tough days, some miraculous days, but all days that have been designed just for me to grow up.

My 22, 995 days have taught me to...


Laugh every day…a belly roar with a nose snort is best but even a baby chuckle makes me glad to be alive.

Give a lot…stuff, money, time, sweat--- until you know the difference between giving because you have to and giving because you want to.

It's safe to ask God to give you someone to love. He never says "No."

If you ask God to give you a friend, be patient…you'll be blown away by the answer. I was.

The sweet smell of a cat's fur nestled under your nose is a gift from heaven.

Golf is not a game for old people, it's a game that keeps everyone young and full of crazy hope.

Stop wearing a watch or jumping on a scale to see where I am.

Christmas Perspectives…thinking of Amy Grant

Every Christmas I listen to Amy Grant's song about Mary, wondering why she had been chosen to carry the son of God and wondering if it is a mistake on God's part, but then she gives into the breath of heaven and asks for this breath to lighten her darkness. Who doesn't need that? Light in a dark place.

Now I see she has a new kind of Christmas song…Better than a Hallelujah…it might not be a Christmas song to everyone but it is to me…to me it says sitting in a church and raising hands doesn't say who we really are, and God cares who we really are.

"Honest cries of a breaking heart
Are better than a hallelujah sometimes.

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful the mess we are…"

You can listen to the whole song here
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lD_pCr_Xrnc

sorry about the ad, but you can skip it in 4 seconds...

Homes For Heroes

Today Dave and I made a donation to the Gary Sinise Foundation to help with the construction of "Smart Homes" for our multiple amputee veterans of the Iraq and Afghanistan Wars. Although Gary has many different avenues of helping, I decided to support their "RISE' program because it is aimed to help the most severely injured gain a sense of independence.

On the website you can read about the heroes, select a specific veteran to sponsor and see a video of one of these incredible homes. I selected USMC Cpl. Mark Litynski who was wounded on November 19th, 2010. My birthday. He is living a new life with the help of 2 prosthetic legs.

USMC Cpl. Mark Litynski playing golf!

Here is the link to learn more and donate.

http://www.garysinisefoundation.org/programs/restoring-independence-supporting-empowerment

What are we doing here?

What are we doing here?
Ever wonder why we're here
On this planet, breathing this air?
Just taking up space?
Taking it in or passing it up?
The precious, the momentous, the invisible.
Are we missing it?
What am I doing?
Am I supposed to be doing something different, better, bigger?
If I am, I can't.
Not on my own.
All I can ever do is what God lays before me so clearly
that I cannot walk a different path.
That's what I'm doing here. 
For now, I'm making flowers 
and giving them away.

Free Forever Flowers For You!

Last Sunday, I set up a table outside of Studio 7 in downtown Pleasanton with my goal to give away as many of my paper flowers as I could…

I sat back and watched people pick out the flowers they wanted…it was so much fun! I love the birdcage my neighbor gave me as a way to display the flowers. Very eye catching if I do say so myself.

All I can say is…I wish you could have been there to see the smiles on people's faces as they walked away.. A real treat for me.

It's BeautiFall!

Up on the ridge,
a lone golden leaf splits from its home 
and twirls toward the rocky path
It travels silently between a forest of naked arms
upstretched to a grey, quiet sky.
It’s that time of year again:
The time when a walk in the hills 
has a surprise around every turn.
The tired landscape baked by summer’s sun 
has gone to sleep
Sweet misty rains have washed every giant oak clean and brought life to swatches of fuzzy moss and blackened bark resting side by side.
Shorter days have beaten back the blanching heat and every night brings a respite of cooler air to breath color back into the land.
It’s the time when the land once brown gives rise to orange pierced with lime green and  firey red etched with gold.

It’s just beauti-fall!

It just may be that Autumn is THE very best season of all…the changing colors dripping off leaves, the gentle temperatures, a touch of misty rain to clear the air.

I ran into a friend the other day and when I said "Isn't it gorgeous today!'..It sounded like she answered, 

"Yes, It's just BeautiFall"…

and I thought, man that is the perfect sentiment!

So now, I'm going to add it to some of my little cards and make some new fall flowers.