by jphilo | Aug 10, 2012 | Daily Life
Pardon the latest of this post, but I just got back from peach pie heaven. Though those of you who shudder at the thought of making 5 fresh peach pies before 10 AM, my peach pie heaven may be your peach pie hell.
But the opportunity to prepare dessert for a wedding rehearsal involving two families who have given generously to us made the time in the kitchen heavenly. While peeling peaches, I reflected upon the ways these families touched ours in the past:
- During our son’s six years as a monk, the bride’s parents subscribed to the monastery newsletter and talked about what they read in it. That simple act of caring meant more to us than words can express.
- The bride and her sister, who are a few years older than our daughter, let Anne borrow a formal for her senior prom. The kicky, funky dress turned out to be Anne’s all time favorite.
- When Anne was in fourth grade, the groom volunteered to play George Burn’s to her Gracie Allen for a school performance project. The groom’s parents helped him memorize his lines.
- The groom did the filming for Different Dream Parenting’s book trailer. Because he has a film degree, he’s been able to help with other audio-visual projects. And he never rolls his eyes when I ask questions with obvious (to the younger generation, anyway) answers.
Such simple things, I mused. But things our family couldn’t do without them.
We couldn’t enter into typical how-the-kids-are-doing conversations with friends unless they understood something about our son’s life.
We couldn’t afford a kicky, funky prom dress for Anne.
We couldn’t be our pint-sized Gracie Allen’s pint-sized straight man.
We couldn’t film professional quality video.
So when our small church group decided to host tonight’s wedding rehearsal dinner for our friends, I volunteered to make dessert.
Not just any dessert.
But fresh peach pie.
Not just 1 pie, but 5.
Enough to feed the whole crowd.
Why volunteer for what some people consider a hellish job?
Because I make a killer peach pie.
Because it’s peach season.
Because this is an opportunity to give back to those who have given to us.
Because being able to give back is a taste of heaven on earth.
How do I know this? Because, I realized, while pouring the last of the glaze over fresh-sliced peaches resting in the baked pastry shell, when God provides opportunities for his people to exercise the unique gifts he’s equipped them with, he’s giving them a foretaste of heaven on earth. And what does heaven taste like?
Heaven tastes serving people who freely served us.
It tastes like the celebration for two lovely, young people making a lifelong commitment.
It tastes like finally being able to give back.
Heaven tastes like fresh peach pie on a warm, summer night.
by jphilo | Dec 4, 2009 | Out and About
Allen received wonderful news at the guest house last night. The counselor from the Trauma Recovery Institute called and said that based on the intake forms he completed, he is a candidate for their recovery program. Also, because of logistics and the fact that we are already here, they rescheduled things around so his treatment will begin next week.
Our plans are to leave the monastery tomorrow morning and visit Hiram’s stepfamily near Bowling Green, Ohio for the weekend. At some point, Hiram will take the bus back to Ames so he can work next week. I will accompany Allen to Morgantown, and we’ll stay at a hotel for the week as the therapy is outpatient. I get a tour Monday and a short session of Friday so I learn some skills to help Allen. Allen will do seven hours of therapy a day with an hour break for lunch.
Stay tuned for details about what we do after that week. Most likely, Allen will come back to Boone for the holidays and do more planning then. Keep him in your prayers as the unknown seems large for him now. We are so proud of the steps he’s taken and his desire to be wholly healed.
We are comforted by God’s use of Allen’s aunts in this process. His Aunt Susan in Washington, who is a mental health counselor, told us about this treatment facility. His aunt in the Twin Cities, also a mental health therapist, checked out the website and had positive feedback. The step-aunt we’ll visit in Ohio is a school guidance counselor and has given us good advice, also.
Our next steps are to book a hotel room and find bus schedules. So keep praying for good decisions and clear heads. Much love to you all.
by jphilo | Dec 14, 2008 | Out and About
A winter moon, bright and full, shown above us as we left the monastery early yesterday morning. It escorted us down the mountain, along steep and winding roads, as the headlights of the car illuminated the heavy, snow-covered branches bending over us.
The moon followed us to Interstate 64 , past refineries with belching smokestacks and into the rolling, white-fenced pastures of Kentucky. For two hours, the moon hovered above us, until the sun rose, pink and quiet behind us.
“What is this like for my son,” I wondered as the moon faded and the sun gains strength, “Driving away from one life and toward the next? What must he be thinking? How can he do this?” We drove all day, and he gave no indication of qualms or second thoughts, and we arrived home at nine o’clock last night.
This morning, I was three steps outside the door when I stopped to take this picture. The moon, the tiniest bit smaller than it was yesterday, hung above the trees along our driveway in the rich blue morning sky. It had followed us from West Virginia to Iowa. I basked in this assurance that some things will stay the same, no matter where my child goes: the sun will rise and set, the moon will wax and wane, God’s sovereign hand upon him, and my love and prayers for his new life.
Some day, when he’s settled in an apartment, a framed copy of this photograph will be my housewarming gift. When he asks me why I called it “Faithfulness,” I’ll remind him of the moon that followed us from West Virginia to Iowa and of the sovereign God who created it.
by jphilo | Dec 5, 2008 | Out and About
Today, Allen got into our car and left the monastery as a non-monk with the support . This sounds like a normal thing to you, but it is an amazing situation, even for a monk who hadn’t taken final vows, to experience. Not only that, but Father Seraphim sent a huge gift basket with Allen, full of foods acceptable for the present Orthodox Nativity fast. All the monks said good-bye to him with great love and sadness, along with hope that he will one day return.
We’re on our way to Toledo where Hiram will board a Greyhound bus this afternoon and arrive in Ames tomorrow morning. Allen and I will then go to Bowling Green and spend the weekend with relatives. This presents a phone problem. Hiram will take his phone with him. My phone is on its way via mail, thanks to my friend Cindy, from Boone to Bowling Green. Hopefully by next week you’ll be able to contact me at my cell phone number.
Once again, we are so thankful for your prayers and encouraging email comments. I haven’t been able to respond to all of them because of internet access and time constraints. But all of you – Deb and Jim, Old Firefighter, Julie, Janet, Art’s #4, Harriet, Kris, Shelly, Judith, Cindy, Rita, Jacque – and those of you I’ve inadvertently omitted, continue to be our support system. Hearing from you brings reality and home into our present adventure.
by jphilo | Dec 3, 2008 | Family
Since Monday’s blog entry, plans changed. The Walla Walla arrangements fell through, so I didn’t leave early Tuesday as anticipated. However, Allen’s crisis escalated. Hiram’s boss graciously gave him the week off and the two of us headed to West Virginia around noon. We arrived at about three this morning.
We’re in the process of finding initial treatment for Allen, perhaps a nationally known Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) center in Morganstown, West Virigina. We should know if Allen qualifies and when they could schedule him later today. The treatment is either one or two weeks of intensive outpatient therapy, with follow-up counseling either with them or with a therapist wherever the patient lives.
My sister has been a great help, also. She’s researching treatment programs in the Twin Cities and follow-up counselors options, as well as ways to get Allen medical assistance throughout the process. Today we went out to lunch together, he bought some shirts for “civilian life,” and we’re browsing at Borders.
We are so thankful for your prayers and support. Keep them coming as we decide about treatment and wait, wait, wait. And stay tuned for the next chapter of “Life at the Monastery.” Catchy title, don’t you think?
