August 15 - “No movie yet”

So how about a quick review of my day yesterday? 

Chris made me a cheese omelet for breakfast.  Cheese and bell peppers and bacon bits.  Top quality stuff.  She also gave me a birthday gift.  A new pair of shorts and some labels for my garage projects.  She knows what I need.

Next stop was water therapy.  I know.  Therapy on my birthday.  I was determined to go, though.  This would be the first time since we lived in Denver that I did a workout of some kind for five days in a row.  (OK.  Water therapy and water aerobics don’t fall into the same category with running six or eight miles a day.  But I was much younger then). 

                     

The plan from there was to get a quick bite to eat and then go see a movie.  But while we were ruminating over our choices, Nathan texted a birthday greeting and asked what we were doing for lunch.  Now, I can smell a fishing expedition when I get near one, so I told him we were going to Shrimp n Stuff and they were invited.  Didn’t take him and Cailyn long to get over here.  April had worked the night before, so she was asleep.  Hence their move to get out of the house.  Lunch was great, as usual.  And Cailyn made me a glow in the dark picture frame with a photo of me and her fishing.  Perfect.  I remember the day like it was yesterday.  Well, maybe last month.  OK, maybe two or three years ago.  She was so little in that picture.  Nathan and April gave me some organizer bins for the garage.  No movie yet.  Better than a movie.

Speaking of the garage, I spent some time out there actually doing some more organizing.  Nathan helped me get rid on old rusted out cart (that I’m sure was well-received into its new home by Bruce, the guy who came to the door and asked if he could have it).  He also moved a really heavy trunk to its final (for now) resting place on the bottom shelf of the big workbench.  Chris was doing some quilting when I quit in the garage, so I watched some Little League regional playoff baseball.

Somewhere in there I received a FaceTime call from Noa.  She sang the Happy Birthday song to me and we chatted for a while.  No movie yet.  Better than a movie.

Last night I got another FaceTime call, from Josh and his boys.  That one turned into a ticketed event.  Literally.  Josh held up a ticket and said it was ours for the show that was about to begin.  I think it was really Christi’s, but she happily gave it over to us and used the opportunity to leave the room.  We soon found out why.  Zak and Caleb had been talking about how to make some money.  Not sure what for, but Caleb had already spent a very hot hour at the park trying to sell some lemonade, and had not been so successful.  I put in an order for a cup of frozen lemonade for me to eat on our next trip up there, but it was too little, too late.  So they had come to the conclusion that the quickest, most economical approach would be to pull some teeth and wait for the tooth fairy to gift them.  Zak had already talked Caleb into letting him tie a string (actually some yarn) around a loose tooth, and they were going to tie it to a doorknob and slam the door shut.  Why were tickets needed?  Well, it didn’t work, but the attempt - well, attempts - were hilarious.  They then switched to an apple.  Surely if Caleb would bite into it just right the tooth would become embedded.  Well, not so much.  They finally agreed to give Caleb a break from the teeth extraction.  So Luke then tried to hook himself up to the yarn.  Before hanging up all three boys joined together to sing me the birthday song.  And Luke followed it up by pursing his lips and letting out a clear whooshing sound.  Hey, after that song you blow out candles, right?  He never did understand when I told him I didn’t have any cake … or candles … or ice cream.  Quite entertaining.  No movie yet.  Better than a movie.

My day ended with watching the Astros defeat the Detroit Tigers.  Astros’ pitcher got his 14^th win of the year.  Oh, and Pearland advanced to Williamsport for the Little League World Series again.  You know what?  That’s a nice day.  No movie yet.  But much better than a movie.

Colossians 3:16-17 says, “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God.  And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.”

Father, thank you for my calm and somewhat relaxing birthday.  One more day to appreciate you and the gifts you have honored me with.  Amen.

August 14 – “Happy birthday to me … again”

I had an interesting conversation with my water therapist on Wednesday.  He was asking questions while I was engaged in the brutal exercises he had so happily designed for me.  When he got to the “How old are you?” one, I told him, “I’ll be 62 on Friday.”  And the young whippersnapper quipped, “I wouldn’t have pegged you for being that old.”  Of course I had to ask, “So how old do you think I look?”  And without hesitation he came out with, “Oh, 55 tops.”  Thanks so much, Kid.  I’ll take those seven extra years and keep em in my back pocket.  Another old fellow (old like me, not like the kid-therapist) in the dressing room found out my birthday was coming up and asked the same question.  When I told him, he followed up by asking if I was going to retire early now that I could.  Just a matter of perspective, I guess.  But … retire?  Wonder if that will ever happen?

He did get me to thinking about what I was doing seven years ago.  After all, that would officially still be pre-Ike by about a month.  And pre-Ike means pre-blog, so I really have no idea what I was doing or thinking back then.  I’m pretty sure I was just a happy-go-lucky youngster without a care in the world.  Actually I know it was a whole different set of stressors than I have today, but a guy can dream, right?  Don’t we all romanticize the past, anyway?  OK, so that was a bit of a challenge to myself.  I went back in my blog history to the earliest birthday entry, August 14^th, 2009.  Almost one year after Hurricane Ike.  What were we doing?  Was I so different back then?  Ok.  Just for fun, then.  Here’s part of the entry for that day: August 14, 2009:

This morning when Chris and I were talking she said she planned to cook a meatloaf tonight for supper – one of my favorites.  She asked what I wanted to do.  Well, in the back of my mind I remembered that yesterday she said that the only thing she wanted was for the house painting to be finished.  Actually she may have meant the whole house thing in general, but I was painting at the time.  So I answered, “I want to paint the trim.”  Of course, I couldn’t begin right away, because the house became a mini-construction zone today.  It’s been a long time, but I remembered the feeling well.  The contractor’s guys got here around 8:00, but they weren’t sure what to do, so they waited for the contractor.  The painters got here about thirty minutes later, about the same time the contractor arrived.  Suddenly, they were all at work, touching up paint and hanging closet doors, and sanding stuff, and installing closet door tracks.  Chris and I finally went out in the backyard and installed some new screen in the eaves vents. 

The crews all broke for lunch, but by the time they came back I decided to start painting, even if I was in their way.  I started in the back, because it was afternoon and Chris would probably have made me stay indoors if I had tried to start in the sun.  It was hot, but the Galveston breeze was back.  At some point in the day Nathan and Cailyn came over.  He decided to stick around and help with the painting.  It’s always good to have one of my boys around helping me do stuff.  We talked a little – after all, we are guys, and guys never talk a lot.  I think we got a lot done, though.  He worked longer than I did.  Around four he told me I had to go inside and see my grandkids.  By that time Jachin and Micah had arrived for their sleepover with Nana and DadDad.    One of the most fun segments of the day was when Cailyn and I chased the boys around and around the house and we all got yelled at by Nana for running inside.  Some things never change.  It’s just fun to run in the house when a little kid is squealing and laughing the whole time.  Multiply that by three and you have pure fun.  We ended up not even having meatloaf.  We had some leftover pizza out of our freezer.   It was not the birthday I imagined.  But memorable, nevertheless.

Here’s the same Scripture verse I used back then as well:

Ephesians 3:20-21 says, “Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.”

And the same prayer.  Even though Mom isn’t physically here, it still proclaims what is in my heart:

Father, thank you for my human being birthday gifts this year – my wife, my Mom, my sons, my daughters (in law), my grandkids, my Facebook well-wishers.  Amen.

August 13 – “Night of the meteors”

So has anyone around Galveston seen any of this fantastic array of comets that are supposed to be exploding into our night sky at an alarming rate?  I heard it was the most amazing and rare experience ever.  So much so that you didn’t even really have to focus on any particular area of the night sky – just lie down and look up, and you’re guaranteed to see the fireworks.  It sure sounded like a fabulous way to celebrate a birthday (mine and Chris’), so we checked it out.  Three times so far.

We first made our way to the deck in the dark around ten p.m. two nights ago.  Sadly, on that occasion the skies were completely cloudy.  No chance of seeing stationary stars, must less moving ones.  Then last night we plodded up there again, around 9:30 this time.  Last night was touted as the best time to see them.  Well, actually 2 a.m. was supposed to be the best time, but you take what you can get, right?  Well, I actually saw one.  A brief but brilliant flame out across a tiny portion of the sky.  Chris saw a few more, but that one was the limit of my sightings.  I even tried the “down on my back looking up” stance (that’s gotta be a yoga move), but only the one graced my field of vision.  Now one thing that yoga position did do for me … it made me even sleepier than I already was.  We retired to the count sheep instead of shooting stars.

That is until I was awakened by a two-fold difficulty, both becoming all-too common in my life.  I had to go to the bathroom, for one.  And my back was killing me.  That sharp, piercing pain upon movement.  It was like an internal alarm clock was insisting I pay attention … now.  As I began my slow roll out of the bed I noticed the clock.  1:58 a.m.  Wait a minute.  Two minutes away from the prime viewing time for the greatest meteor shower in the history of the world?  Back pain or not, I had to give this one a go.  I was going to sneak in and wake Chris up and very romantically invite her to join me for a scandalous late-night rendezvous on the deck.  It was going well until I kicked a chair in the office (hey, it was dark) and woke her up with a start.  She still agreed to join me, though, so we made our way upstairs to gaze at the stars and experience the event of a lifetime.  Except we didn’t.  Oh, we made it to the deck just fine.  And we did our share of sky-gazing.  But meteors?  Shooting stars?  Nope.  We did see the lightning accompanying the approaching thunderstorm, though, and we appreciated the fact that we had some hope of rain soon.  As romantic interludes go, this one was not really something to write a book about.  It was nice to be together.  And I really appreciated the hot pack and pain medication she handed me as I made my way back to bed.  What a gal, right?

Colossians 3:15 says, “Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful.”

Father, thank you for the few meteors we did see.  Thank you more for the few stolen minutes together on the deck.  Amen.

August 12 – “Rocked to the core”

Boy, were we ever rocked to the core yesterday.  I mean literally rocked.  We were on our way home from Houston.  (I had an MRI appointment, and we went to see a Seasider in the hospital who just had her ninth ankle surgery.  And she’s not done yet.  She faces two more surgeries - just this week.  The infection was so severe that much tissue was lost.  In fact she almost lost the foot entirely.  She seemed in good spirits, though.  She’s confident that she is now in good hands at Methodist Hospital with a doctor she trusts.  She’ll be there for a good while). 

So back to the story.  As we left Luby’s in Houston we noticed the sky was growing darker.  A group of folks just in front of us were even joking about it – wondering what that dark thing was in the sky.  It has been a while since we have seen rain around here.  We pulled onto the road and began our trek home with a chuckle.  Raindrops started to touch our windshield soon after we hit the 610 Loop near 288.  Before we could get to the Galveston turn off, though, traffic came to a dead stop.  And it didn’t take long to understand why.  The wind exploded on us.  It felt and sounded like we had been hit by a truck, but we couldn’t even see far enough to check.  The car began to shake and rock back and forth.  Hail began falling – loudly.  The wind was whipping violently.  Every car on the freeway was stopped dead, afraid to move even an inch.  I mentioned to Chris that it felt like we were in a tornado.  She curtly insisted that she wanted no part of even hearing such an explanation.  She was just praying that the overhead sign would stay overhead, and that the white van next to us would remain on its wheels.  I managed to record part of the experience on my phone, but I had admired the majesty of the whole thing for so long that I missed capturing the really powerful part. 

When traffic finally began to inch forward again, the bolt lightning show began.  And that didn’t end until we were almost to LaMarque, when the rain pretty much dried up as well.  Chris drove with the emergency flashers on the whole way, hitting top speeds of somewhere around 35 or 40 miles per hour.  A real storm speed demon.  We decided to stop in at Kel and Christina’s since the weather was easing up, and to no real surprise, they hadn’t had a drop of rain.  We figured that’s the way in was on the Island as well.  We did bring at least a few drops back into town with us, though.  It was sprinkling when we pulled into our driveway.  I don’t think we got much more than that, though.  When we went outside around 10 to see if we could find the meteor shower, it was too cloudy for star gazing, but not cloudy enough for moisture to fall.  Oh well, at least we got our car washed.

Colossians 3:13-14 says, “Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.  And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.”

Father, thank you so much for your protection in the midst of the storm yesterday.  It’s always good to know you are with us, but it was great to trust that you were there yesterday.  Please touch Jennifer and bring her healing.  Amen.

August 11 – “Strapped in”

Day one of physical therapy in the water is now complete.  It was kind of eerie.  Every activity they had me do reminded me of the ones I used to have to do back when I had physical therapy on dry land.  First they strapped me in.  Ankle weights on me.  Heavy ankle weights.  Ten pounds each, maybe?  Then they handed me a pool noodle and told me to bicycle for five minutes.  That’s the same start I had with regular therapy.  Ride the stationary bike for five minutes.  Then I was supposed to let my feet hang in a sort of traction for five minutes.  That sounded like it would feel pretty good, but the noodle didn’t keep me off the bottom, so my feet were doing more bouncing than hanging. 

Next he decided that I looked “pretty healthy.”  I guess that’s supposed to be a complement, but in my limited experience, it’s never a good sign.  Always means they intend to make things harder than they originally intended.  Sure enough, instead of walking back and forth across the pool for five minutes, I had to do lunges.  Instead of sliding sideways for five minutes, I had to do slide squats.  At least he didn’t come up with some weird addition when I had to walk backwards.  Balance is hard enough as it is.  

One of the other therapists made a comment about my bad posture.  Now wait a minute.  I just had a twenty minute session with a physical therapist (who was now in the pool, by the way) who told me that leaning forward in the classic “old man” stance was to be expected.  It relieved the pressure in my back caused by the stenosis.  Sounded like permission to lean, right?  Well, like it or not, that comment led to some time with the wet version of therabands.  They are huge rubber bands that attach to the wall and provide resistance for upper body strengthening.  The ones yesterday were more like rubber strings, but they provided ample resistance.  And my back reacted for the first time during this segment. 

The hardest thing I had to do, along with the bicycling for five minutes, was hang from  a bar and bring my legs up and tuck them in and push them back out.  Really felt that one in my abs, which is where I thought the exercises were going to concentrate.  But right after that he moved me into stretches, always a crowd favorite.  Well, this crowd, anyway.  Long stretches (two minutes each) of hamstrings and hips and ankles and arms.  Tough to continue for two minutes, but they did feel pretty good. 

It was the last thing he tried to do that brought me as close as I have come to rebelling.  He began to put a life jacket-looking thing around my neck and started to tie it one.  Now ever since my first neck surgery – the one where I had to wear a hard brace 24 hours a day for six months – I have hated even the thought of something around my neck.  That’s part of the reason I hate to wear ties.  I also had some less-than-happy experiences with attempts at neck traction before the neck surgeries.  So I was going to give whatever he had in mind a try, but I didn’t hold out much hope for going beyond fifteen or twenty seconds.  Thankfully, however, the physical therapist who did my intake interview saw what was going on and raced over to put a stop to it.  “No cervical traction with his history” was her command.  I like this lady more and more.  No neck traction.  It’s OK to perfect my old man walk.  I could get used to this.  He came up with an alternate form of traction that just targeted my lower back.  Took two pool noodles to hold me off the floor, but once that was achieved, it felt pretty good.  Session one complete.  Now three times a week for four weeks, plus water exercise class on the other two days.  I anticipated soreness today.  I was right.  Hope I can still hold my own with the other old folks in class today.

Colossians 3:12 says, “Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.”

Father, thank you for those who show these qualities to me every day (read here Chris, primarily).  Especially patience.  Amen.

August 10 - “Chemo brain and Kelly gain”

Apparently I have been privileged to be experiencing a tiny taste of something affectionately called “chemo brain” among cancer patients.  Now, I have not been diagnosed with cancer or anything, but one of the drugs I take for the rheumatoid arthritis is also a cancer drug.  And every time the doc increases the dose, I have to experience side effects.  Don’t get me wrong.  The drug really does help with the joint pain.  Not at all sure if I want to keep dealing with these side effects, though.  The chemo brain is the latest to join stomach concerns among the all-time most annoying issues I get to face. 

So the chemo brain effect for me causes me to easily lose focus when I am trying to concentrate.  I can be working on a teaching and completely lose my train of thought.  Not a great place to be for someone who has to create at least two lessons from scratch every week.  Other times I realize that I have just been sitting there staring at the screen for long periods of time.  Memory is yet another problem, but I can’t remember exactly why.  And then there are the times I just can’t stay awake.  Of course those may be the result of sleepless nights from the other recent pain inducing culprit that is my back.  Hope to get more news on that after beginning water therapy today and MRI tomorrow.

But on the positive side, the Lord had an answer for my preparation difficulty this past week.  Kelly Boyer, a young lady who grew up at Seaside, is preparing to go to Ethiopia as a short-term missionary.  She was available to come share with us her own heart as well as a little about the mission she will be undertaking – working with victims of the sex trafficking industry.  It was a powerful message and a real challenge to understand that who you are is enough.  God can, and will, receive you into his family and give you a purpose in life.  I’m sure I came across as a proud Daddy when I had the honor of surprising her after her message with a check from Seaside for $4,000.  She was quite humbled by the power of God to meet her travel and living expense needs. 

For lunch Chris and Cailyn and I went to the Spot, a local restaurant, to join Kelly and the friends who came to support her.  Great group of girls who have bonded in a small group at their church in League City.  Once again my Daddy-heart felt a peace that one of my Seaside kids was doing well for herself. 

Just got word that another Seasider, Jennifer is having surgery at 9 a.m.  Gotta head to Houston.

Colossians 3:2-3 says, “Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.  For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God.”

Father, thank you for Kelly and for the many ways you have planned to use her in ministry.  Multiply her servant heart in others and touch many for yourself through her actions.  And also please be with Jennifer as she goes through surgery number ten on this ankle of hers.  Amen.

August 9 – “Nautically Noteworthy”

Kel won some tickets to the Sugarland Skeeters minor league baseball game Friday night.  We won the rights to babysitting while they went.  Interesting tradeoff.  The Skeeters lost.  But their fireworks show after the game fizzled out, so everybody got free vouchers for tickets to another game … and another round of babysitting, I suppose.

Another project jumped up at us yesterday.  I think Chris was somehow inspired by seeing photos of Christi’s kitchen cabinet renovation (which looks really good, by the way).  Our day started when we took some books to Tiki to Jay and Fran (and did some swapping, too.  He gave us the top decorative piece that was all that was left of Mom and Dad’s upright desk.  He thought we might be able to come up with some way to use it.  Yet another future project.  Keep em coming), and then we dropped off Jachin’s epi-pens which they left here when they were staying with us (Those life-saving shots that can save a life when someone is highly allergic to something.  Not something you want to be without for very long). 

On the way home we were pondering the new project when Chris’ mind reverted to an old one – the hall bathroom.  Not wanting to deal with the 61^st street traffic, which was horrible, by the way, we had already decided to skirt that interchange and take some back roads.  But then Chris recalled a nautical antique store that April had mentioned down in the Strand area that sold fish nets.  Chris has been wanting an old fish net to use as a curtain/window covering of sorts in that bathroom.  It was obviously time to go get it.  In Galveston.  In the summer.  On a Saturday.  What are we, crazy?  Well, of course. 

The store was a lot of fun.  Sort of Colonel Bubbie’s meets Popeye.  No air conditioning, but they did have lots of fans going.  And the antiques and salvaged items were quite fascinating.  And the wheels were turning inside Chris’ head.  We found the netting easily enough, but she remembered that one of the towel racks was hung rather tenuously using just sheetrock anchors.  It has fallen several times already, so she won’t even hang a towel on it now.  And when we have company over, there is really no place for them to hang towels after a shower.  So what good is a towel rack with no function?  From that start ended up making another purchase.  Not one that I would have ever before considered.  We left there with four and a half feet of … ship’s handrail.  And guess what?  It looks greats.  And now we have a functional place to hang towels.  We even added a few more old pictures.  Not sure what Chip and Joanna Gaines would say about Chris’ design sense, but I am certainly impressed.  Now we just have to paint the wall.  Oh, and get a plumber over to fix the shower diverter.  Then that room should be completely finished.  And Chris has already declared, “You know, now that we finished this room, we need to do the whole house.”  I thought that’s what we had been doing for the last seven years. 

Colossians 3:1 says, “Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God.”

                                     

Father, thank you yet again for evidences of your creative heart.  Chris has certainly connected with it, and shows it often, even in little things like a bathroom renovation.  Amen.