News Trend Wise Words|Actual

I am also sending him this. I hope he likes it.

I have a friend who is in a dark place.

A profoundly and desperately dark place.

The results of this week's election mean precious little to him. His burdens are unaffected by presidential politics.

When I write to him, I try to offer him hope in my own words but I also like to enclose a meaningful quote. Here is what I sent to him today.

"Darkness comes. In the middle of it, the future looks blank. The temptation to quit is huge. Don't. You are in good company... You will argue that there is no way forward. But with God, nothing is impossible. He has more ropes and ladders and tunnels out of pits than you can conceive. Wait. Pray without ceasing. Hope."

- John Piper

No matter what your darkness may be, I pray that these wise words will resonate with beauty and clarity in your aching heart.

News Trend Walking Toward Heaven|Actual

It was one month ago today that my mom died.

But the truth is that I've been walking toward her death for the past thirteen years and six months.

* * * * *

It was Monday, September 1, 2003, when the six of us showed up unexpectedly on my mom's doorstep, that I first understood her destiny.

Baby Ranger.

Well. Technically, there were seven of us. My husband, four daughters and I had just driven across most the United States, from Seattle to Mancelona, Michigan, to fetch our new pup. And with a wriggly and wonderful Baby Ranger in our arms, we decided to treat my mom to a surprise visit with her new grandson as well as her human family.

Whispering excitedly, we assembled on her front porch, rang the bell, and held our breath as her footsteps sounded down the hall.

Surprise!

Hi, Grandma!

Look, we got a puppy!

Pandemonium broke out as Mom opened the door, smiling from ear to ear, to let us explode into her house. I watched her face carefully, enjoying the look of genuine surprise and delight that told me she was truly thrilled by our unannounced arrival.

Then I noticed something else.

It was a flicker that crossed behind her eyes.

A slight hint of something more than just a good surprise.

An expression of genuine confusion.

A momentary lost of control.

In that exact moment, as I stood frozen in place on the doorstep with my daughters and tiny puppy streaming past me, talking and laughing with Grandma in a flurry of wild energy, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that my mom had dementia.

And I knew that dementia always ends in death. There is no cure.

* * * * *

In the thirteen years and six weeks since we stood on that porch, many things have happened.

My mom's illness healed our complicated relationship and brought us to a place of great peace.

My mom's illness also put her - and me - through hell.

For thirteen years and six weeks,

I've talked endless hours on the phone to her, even from Malaysia, India, and Vietnam.

I've worried about her through the dark hours of the night.

I've listened to her describe her hallucinations and acknowledged them as real.

I've gently advised her as she made decisions for herself.

I've baked her cookies.

I've helped her change her clothes and use the toilet.

I've reminded her over and over of the people who love her.

I've cried with her.

I've cried for her.

And I've prayed for her.

Sometimes wordlessly.

Because sometimes my heart was beyond words.

And sometimes I found the words to ask for exactly what I wanted - for God to surround her with his blazing light and purifying love, so that my mother would see only his majesty and none of this world's ugly hold on her.

On October 15, 2016, I rejoiced as he finally took her from her broken body to her great reward.

* * * * *

At the end of that week back in 2003, as we all piled back into the are and careened up the street, honking the horn and hollering our last goodbyes, I knew that my mother had dementia.

And in that moment, I began to walk with her toward heaven.

News Trend Guess Who|Actual

Once again, the Streicher women are reunited. My third-born flew in from Asia for the holidays and here we are, my four daughters and me, in all our leg and footwear glory.

What can you tell about us from our fashion choices? Let me spell out the specifics of each outfit and let's see if you can figure out who's who.

Clockwise from the top:

1. White high-top Chuck Taylor's with a pair of Abercrombie & Fitch boyfriend jeans

2. Black high-top Vans with Abercrombie & Fitch light wash jeans

3. White Birkenstocks with Gap jeans

4. Suede ankle boots from Target with a pair of Gap black leggings.

5. Heather grey sweatpants with navy canvas H&M high tops.

Take your best guess and then check your answers below!

* * * * *

Answers:

1. Emma

2. Tessa

3. Molly

4. Diane

5. Jane

News Trend My LUSH-ious New Shower|Actual

Long story short, I remodeled my shower to show off my soap.

Oh sure, I dove into this process with a lot of fancy ideas about hex tiles, contrasting class, black fixtures, luxurious slabs of marble, and frameless glass doors.

But as my down-to-earth contractor pointed out, it's easy to over-design a space with extravagant and expensive details.  Better to keep the overall look simple and clean, he advised, and let just a few personal touches shine through.

Immediately, I appreciated his wisdom and knew exactly how to proceed.

My focal point would be... Soap.

Now it may seem counter-intuitive to plan a bathroom around something so temporary and insignificant as a bar of soap, but that is exactly what I did.

However, this isn't your ordinary bar of Irish Spring.

I'm obsessed with snooty, upscale, artisinal, hipster soap.

Soap by LUSH.

And now my simple, white, pure and clean  shower stall - as well as the still-to-be-remodeled-rest of the bathroom - sets off my earth-toned bath bombs and golden body butters.

And it all looks pretty LUSH-ious to me.

News Trend This Powerful Gift|Actual

This is the tree where he sat and watched us walk by.

Ranger had posed at the same place earlier this fall.

Just as before, what I noticed first was a silent movement in the darkness.

A flurry of black shapes flitted across deep shadows.

I thought I was seeing a cluster of autumn leaves blown across the grass.

But wait. There was no wind.

In the split second that my mind pondered the contradiction, the fluttering darkness rose up from the ground and lit on a low branch of the nearby tree.

Soundlessly, Without so much as a hint of a whisper.

My skin burst out in a thousand tiny prickles.

And that is when I knew.

My owl was back.

Or more correctly, I was back to walking in the cover of darkness. Through the long days of summer and early fall, Ranger and I enjoyed our walks during the extended hours of daylight. Since we turned our clocks back last weekend, and the days grow shorter as the solstice draws near, our afternoon adventures veer closer to twilight. On this particular day, we'd left home later than usual and darkness had fallen completely.

My owl was just where I had seen him three times last winter, apparently still thriving on this schoolyard hunting ground.

He - or she - perched silent and still on the branch as we quietly walked past, oblivious Ranger with his nose in the bushes on the other side of the drive, me tingling from head to toe and trying to still the pounding of my heart.

My owl never moved.

As I walked on, still in a state of mystic shock, I pondered the fact that although I have had my fair share of wildlife encounters, I've never experienced anything so exhilarating, so mystifying, so profoundly spiritual as the sightings of my owl.

And I thank God for this powerful gift.

* * * * *

For more stories about my owl, read these:

Vast and Beautiful Mysteries Of Life

Burung Hantu

The Third Time

News Trend Lighting Candles|Actual

"It is better to light a candle than curse the darkness." - Eleanor Roosevelt

Last weekend, I drew up plans for a simple sconce made from pallet wood and set my husband to work. I'm happy with the finished effect.

Walking through this world has been wearing me down lately.

There is darkness.

There is hate.

There is a never-ending sense that we are all swimming upstream against a torrent of negativity and evil and no matter how hard we try

to smile

to bring a kind word and a positive thought

to love one another

our efforts come to precious little.

I feel tired. Maybe you do too.

Let's give ourselves permission

to slow down

to enjoy quiet comforts

to feel a little bit afraid.

But we must never stop.

Because we are making a difference.

That's why we are tired.

Changing the world is hard work.

Our task is not to give up. Nor are we asked to burn down the wicked world overnight.

What we can do - what we must do - is light a candle every day and let our tiny flames chase away the darkness.

Let's be honest. I'm obsessed with candles and you'll find them burning all around my house. But I love most to keep one or two lit in the hallway, just inside the front door. And I imagine that every time I open my door, a tiny bit of light slips out into the night.

* * * * *

My project was inspired by this tutorial. Thanks for the great idea!

News Trend White Christmas|Actual

The decking of the Streicher halls is officially underway. Today's progress:

^ I'm feeling so much white this year. With my ubiquitous paper snowflakes. A pair of fuzzy sheepskins, and white candles for dayz, the room is slowly capturing that pure and simple Christmas spirit that I crave.

^ Last January, I was inexplicably inspired to buy three strings of paper lanterns. I'll confess I had absolutely no idea how I would use them but their white simplicity spoke to me.

Today I pulled them in from the garage and showed them to my third-born, who took one look and created this scheme of three curving lines. Just exactly what I needed.

As the afternoon progressed, my table full of mostly white baubles and bangles slowly emptied until just this item remained: a tiny white box of bold mini bulbs. Just this one splash of color, I told myself, will take this igloo look to the next level.

Pour them in a bowl,

spill them across a shelf,

string them from a doorknob.

But you know what? I couldn't do it.

Nothing looks cuter to me than those tiny ornaments tucked into that perfect, tidy - and yes, very white - storage box.

Looks like I'm headed for an all-white Christmas this year.