Heather Holleman's Blog, page 242

A Birthday Dinner

My daughter turns 12 years old today! Her birthday dinner selection?

The Pioneer Woman Lasagna, caesar salad, and cannoli for dessert. No birthday cake. Just cannoli.

I think she’s got some Italian in her for sure!

I know it’s Cinco de Mayo, but she wants lasagna and cannoli. You can’t deny the birthday girl her birthday dinner!

 

All God’s Verbs in Psalm 23

This morning I take a deeper look at Psalm 23 and everything God does. 

His verbs? 

He makes us lie down; He leads; He refreshes; He guides; He is with us; He comforts; He prepares a table; He anoints.

Our verbs? 

We lack nothing; we fear not; we overflow; we dwell. 

All day long, I experience the abundance, the peace. All day long, I dwell. 

Psalm 23

1 The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.

2 He makes me lie down in green pastures,

he leads me beside quiet waters,

3 he refreshes my soul.

He guides me along the right paths

    for his name’s sake.

4 Even though I walk

    through the darkest valley,

I will fear no evil,

    for you are with me;

your rod and your staff,

    they comfort me.

5 You prepare a table before me

    in the presence of my enemies.

You anoint my head with oil;

    my cup overflows.

6 Surely your goodness and love will follow me

    all the days of my life,

and I will dwell in the house of the Lord

    forever.

Firelight Talk

Today I recall Polly Wiessner’s research on the Ju/’hoansi Bushmen in Africa. I love how she discusses “Firelight Talk” and how the community would gather to share personal stories around the campfire. The ancient desire to connect over stories, she argues, remains today.

I think about what tale I would tell about who I am and where I’m going, what matters most, and what wisdom I might pass on if I were there among the Bushmen. I think about listening quietly to all the others, nodding my head and closing my eyes in agreement of truth.

I think about the firelight talk, the circle of warmth, and the evening stars. I think about loving a community, living intentionally with them, and sharing stories to bond and grow.

Now I want to get one of those outside fire pits and invite all the neighbors over.

 

The Prize of Aging

Today I talk to the Italian Mama, and her wisdom reminds me to slow down, know my limits, and relax into life in my forties. She’s a decade ahead of me. She’s there ahead, waving to me on the path, and shouting out where to avoid the pitfalls. She’s beckoning me into greener, lusher, more peaceful pastures.

Everyone needs someone like her in her life. Everyone needs an Italian Mama who speaks truth, tells you the plain meaning of what’s coming, and who nevertheless leaves you feeling joyful and hopeful.

Today, she tells that I’m getting older. 

“You’re getting older. I hate to tell you, but it’s true.”

She tells me that getting older means I listen in new ways: to my body, to my heart, to my instincts. Getting older means I do half of what I could do in my twenties, but this doesn’t feel like a loss. Getting older means you rest and let everyone else take center stage, but this doesn’t feel like a loss. She tells me it’s wonderful to live so intentionally and so peacefully because you no longer need anyone’s approval. You aren’t trying to prove anything anymore.

It’s the prize of aging.

We finally talk about loving well, about manifesting God’s presence through our very lives, and doing it for love, not for any self-interested motive.

Oh, aging! I’m on my way! It’s glorious!

For the Love of Kidneys

Since last Tuesday, I’ve learned more about my kidneys–and kidneys in general–than I ever dreamed I could or would. I had a kidney stone (and two more still in there), and now I’m an advocate of kidney health. It was so painful. Believe me, you do not want a kidney stone. You want to bless your little kidneys.

Oh, the marvelous kidney! The kidney that filters waste, balances our fluids, releases hormones to regulate blood pressure, controls the production of red blood cells, and performs other key tasks. I learn that I wasn’t living to support my kidneys. One shouldn’t drink more coffee than water, for example (ahem, ahem). One shouldn’t eat too may beets (who knew?). One should limit animal protein (my vegetarian students are cheering right now).

I learned that kidneys love at least 2 liters of water a day. The kidney also loves a little lemonade each day. (I actually feel marvelous, and my skin glistens. My dark circles under my eyes seem much lighter. My skin isn’t as dry. Let us drink more water!)

The kidney loves a reduced salt, low protein, high liquid diet. I describe to my doctor the amount of salt I put on my nearly nightly popcorn. He says, “Yes, limit all this.” My dejected face encourages him to say, “But everyone needs a little sodium now and then.” He also tells me a cup of coffee isn’t bad at all.

He hands me my kidney meal plan. Goodbye, beets. Goodbye, all those mugs of steaming coffee all day long. Hello, water! Hello, health! And, surprisingly, hello to radishes, which apparently, kidneys love.

 

To Take It Slow

I’m feeling so much better! But I’m so tired; the day feels slow and deliberate. I reduce every activity down so that I’m mostly resting. I read. I watch television. I take baths. I tag along with my husband at the grocery store. I grade only a few final essays. I drink lots of water. 

I wake up this morning and rejoice in a time to take it slow. God arranged it so my daughters are away at a youth retreat, and my classes ended last week. How kind! 

I think about a slower Sabbath. What a kind, gentle day this is. What a kind, gentle God. 

And I’ll watch the Robins complete their nest. 

Looking Around

I take a gentle little stroll right before a rainstorm. I noticed the lilac, the bright red azalea, the pink dogwood, the yellow and orange tulips, and the deep blue of the violets. Right before the storm, the color seems more vibrant: the grass takes on a deep lush green, and the bark of the oak trees seems a little bit more brown.

As I stroll, I find two robins’ nests nearly complete. Next week I’ll track the eggs with excitement.

I suddenly remember the past 15 years of strolling with my children, first in strollers and then with them in hand by my side. Our walks were called “rainbow hunts” because we would look for every color of the rainbow. We couldn’t come home until we found all the colors in nature. Purple was always rarest. Oh, that they were with me today! So many purple lilacs line my path.

It’s a wonderful stroll to look all the way around–behind me and within. 

The Results of Your Work

(Pain has significantly decreased! Praise God! I’m on the mend!)

All day, I consider a quote from a wise woman. She mentions that, when it comes to speaking and writing books, I simply send the work out there and “find satisfaction in God’s results.”

In other words, I still need to grow into maturity in terms of self-evaluation after speaking events or publishing books. In other words, I need to trust in the sovereignty and power of God with, not just the doing of work, but also with the results of work. In other words, I need to release impact into God’s hands.

We abide with God, trust Him for our work and in our work, and release the results to Him. Maybe my new measure of success isn’t book charts or speaking reviews, but rather how surrendered I was to leaving the results and impact up to God.

 

 

 

Conclusive

My back pain results were supposedly an enormous kidney stone as revealed by the renal ultrasound. I would need surgery! I canceled a trip to Texas. 

But today, the urologist disagreed with original doctor and ordered another test. He saw possible little stones on a CT scan, but even then: still inconclusive. Cause of severe pain? Inconclusive! Cause of blood in urine? Inconclusive! More tests on Monday. Let’s see if the little stones pass. Go to the ER if you can’t manage the pain. 

Maybe God miraculously dissolved the big stone. Maybe I already passed it! Maybe something else it going on. 

I do not love the word inconclusive.

What I can conclude, however, is God’s great care, the love of neighbors, far-off friends and family, and the joy and peace of God. I can conclusively report that right now, as I rest with pain medication and a heating pad, that the Robin is building her nest in the Weeping Cherry right in my line of vision from this bed. Can you believe this treat? 

Oh, the tender mercies of God! Had I been anywhere but here, I would have missed this. 

Pain is Great, But He is Greater

I’m at the doctor’s office because of severe back pain. I have so much trouble finding meaning, beauty, and purpose in physical pain. It’s just . . . Painful. 

I’m terrible at living well with pain. 

As I wait for a doctor, I keep thinking that, while pain is great, God is greater still. He is greater than my understanding. I trust in His loving care.