God Between the Clouds

There was a time when I was afraid of storms. As a little girl, I remember hiding my head under the covers whenever lighting and thunder would strike. I remember telling my kids when they were little that, during storms, God was bowling, just so they wouldn’t be afraid.

Last night, after a whole day in the Pittsburgh suburbs of sun and clouds and clouds and sun, the clouds finally won out. Around 6:30pm, it started to storm. I was meeting some friends at 7:15 and took Route 30 just when the sun was going down and the clouds were letting up.

The sky was so stunning I couldn’t help but stop at a small church and take pictures from the parking lot. Hope you enjoy the shots as much as I did.

Happy Birthday to “The Gavinator”!

My grandson Gavin is one of the biggest blessings in my life. As I write this, he is on the eve of his eleventh birthday, growing out of all of his clothes at record speed. He teeters on the border between being a little kid and becoming an adolescent. He wants to be a grown up but he’s just not there yet. Sometimes he’s so good at arguing his point I think he’d make a great lawyer.

The fact that he is here at all is quite a miracle. My daughter is 29 years old as of this moment. If you do the math that would make her, yep, 18 years old at the time of his birth.

It was a big trauma initially when my daughter told me she was pregnant. I am the oldest of my sisters and female cousins and I was worried about the effect this would have on the family. I said something to my cousin Angie one time about it and she said “You showed us how to handle it”. I don’t know what I was worried about. Everyone was supportive. Thank goodness for open and loving families.

Gavin has taught us many lessons. When he was two or so, he stopped calling my husband “PAP” and started calling him Jim. He still calls him Jim. (He calls me Nana) When he was three, he overheard Jim being impatient and short with me. Gavin stopped him and said, “Jim you were not talking to Nana very nice. I think you need to say you’re sorry.” So in front of Gavin, Jim came to me and said he was sorry.

Jim calls Gavin “the Gavinator” I think because he is a powerhouse. He’s all boy. He likes to ride motorbikes, zoom on a skateboard, catch a fish. Jim loves to show Gavin how to fix mechanical things, take care of the chickens, tell a good joke. The men on my husband’s side of the family have a weird sense of humor and thankfully Gavin knows how to play along.

Gavin told me one day that Jim told him how we came to be together. In a stern voice I said to Gavin, “Tell me what Jim told you.” He said (with a grin) “Nana, you were washing your face by the side of the road one day. Jim was driving by. He stopped and said Come with me and you’ll never have to wash your face in cold water again. So you went with him and he bought you an ax to chop wood.”

I said GAVIN, DO NOT LISTEN TO JIM!!

I have a magnet on my refrigerator that says: Grandchildren are God’s reward for not killing your children. I laugh when I read this but truly, Gavin is a big reward for hanging in there through some tough times. He is for us, I believe, the opportunity to try again, to do better, to be given another chance. And my daughter? Last year she received her bachelor’s degree. When God gives us a chance to swell up our heart, we should take it. Who knows what it will bring?

The Power of a Journey

I love a good lump in your throat kind of movie. You know the kind I mean. When you begin to watch it, you just know something sweet is going to unfold. Maybe a good lesson on faith, love or forgiveness.

Cover of "Field of Dreams (Widescreen Two...
Cover via Amazon

There are a few movies that inspire and give me that lump in my throat. They are the movies I can watch over and over and never tire of. Field of Dreams is one of them. In it, Kevin Costner embarks upon a journey of self discovery. Through the building of his cornfield ball park, meeting and finding old baseball pros, he finally sees the purpose of it all when his young father turns around at home base. The golden nugget is the chance, the opportunity to heal his troubled relationship with his father.

Last night, I went to see Salmon Fishing in the Yemen. Lest you are thinking about reading no further, hear me out. I absolutely loved it.

I remember seeing trailers for SFITY, twisting up my face and wondering what the heck is someone thinking? A movie on salmon fishing??? Then a few days ago, I read a positive review of the movie, intriguing me enough to make me want to go.

So go I did and wow, was I impressed. I also realized what a grown up I have become because even though this movie has gorgeous characters, a lusty love plot, unbelievable scenery (it’s the Yemen!), and lots of gutsy acting (Kristen Scott Thomas), I was so caught up in the MESSAGE.

The local Sheik wants to bring salmon fishing to the Yemen. Everyone, including the expert fishing pro they choose for the job, thinks he is nuts. The Sheik persists and says Do you have faith? to the expert. The expert is all about scientific research, dull boring stuff, but fishing is not about science, insists the Sheik . Fishing is about Faith, Fishing is about Patience, he says.

So the journey begins to bring water to the desert, bring the salmon to the Yemen. You wonder if they all begin to get alittle crazy with the idea but deep down, it’s faith. They start to believe in the dream. They overcome adversity several times and persist in their journey to a dream.

The lump in my throat started early in the movie. I know that happens when I can feel a spiritual experience coming on. I love the Sheik; he is full of wisdom, calm and grace. He shows us all the power of the journey, the walk towards enlightenment. I have a feeling that this movie will be one of those that I will want to watch over and over again.

Laughing at Myself

You grow up the day you have the first real laugh….at yourself.

Ethel Barrymore

I have done some silly stuff lately.

One chilly morning this winter, I was outside cleaning the snow off my car. When I came into the house, my glasses fogged up immediately after hitting the warmth of my mud room. I ran into the kitchen, thinking I had left the oven on.

In an event just yesterday, my boss said to me (from another room), Do you think Jim would go to Mastermind with you? What I heard was, Do you think Jim would go to Mass with you tomorrow? (I’m not Catholic!)

Lucy watches Little Ricky's birthday party fro...
Lucille Ball- She was funny! (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

As I get older and (hopefully) wiser, I also seem to be becoming more funny. Maybe it is just that I am funny to myself, but no, I seem to be funny to others as well.

The deterioration of my hearing especially is enabling my funnyness. I know I’m going to need to get it checked, but the reality of that is well, I am not ready to deal with the reality of that (or the expense of a hearing aid).

I don’t know why people get so upset when others laugh at them. I see it as a special grace when we can love ourselves despite what others think (or don’t think) of us. When I was a manager, my employees loved to imitate me back to myself. Sometimes, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

I used to think that EVERYONE needed to like/love me. I was such a people pleaser. I realize now that is the impossible dream. The older I get the more I realize that hey, not everyone is gonna like me. That is ok with me. I will tell you this- the deeper my relationship to God, the less it matters what others think. I like myself and what others think of me is really none of my business.

I know deep inside the kind of person I strive to be. Funny yes. Also- caring, loving, thoughtful, forgiving, huggy and kissy. Yes, that is what I want to be.

So laugh if you will. I’m laughing along with you!

Make Way for the Spring Chickens!

In honor of Spring, I want to invite you over and tell you about our chickens. My husband Jim got bit by the chicken bug a few years ago. A friend of the family happened to give us a baby rooster. That baby rooster somehow fostered a fowl love story for my husband and daughter.

The rooster has long passed on but my husband’s love for chickens has only grown. I have to say, I was not thrilled when I found baby chickens in an incubator in my garage a few years ago. I swore that I would not help with them- ever- because I was so bent on not adding one more responsibility to my full plate. Obviously the chickens have persisted and thrived, due largely in part to my husband’s and daughter’s care. They provide us with ample, or more like an abundance, of eggs.

Initially, I was so skeptical of the eggs that I only used them in cake mixes or as ingredients in recipes. I was a bit nervous about eating them hard boiled, fried sunny side up or scrambled. After a few dozen eggs wasted on cake mixes, I realized my ridiculousness and fried up a few. I was forever changed.

There is something special about the eggs. They are fresh of course but without all the modern things done to the poor commercial chickens, there is a distinctive difference in the taste of them. They are the true definition of Organic. Even their appearance is different. The shells are much thicker and the yolk yellower. Scrambled eggs come out the color of sunshine.

My mother called me recently and warned me about a salmonella scare regarding eggs. She didn’t realize our eggs are salmonella- proof.  There is no way our eggs could have ANYTHING other than goodness.

During warm evenings, Jim lets the chickens out of their coop to run around the yard, scratch and eat bugs. Our trusty yellow lab Ms. Jordan guards them with a sharp eye, her motivation being her daily treat of a delicious egg. Letting the chickens run around the yard like this used to be another source of  annoyance, but “the girls” (nickname for the chickens) have won me over.

As you can see by the pictures, we don’t have the run of the mill white chickens. We have Araucanas and Buff Orpingtons. Their eggs are a beautiful soft green and light brown color. It’s convenient for Easter as we will probably just hard boil them!

If you have a bit of space in your back yard, the motivation and a good chicken book or mentor, there’s no reason you can’t have your own chickens. Just remember to make the coop very secure or intruders like raccoons, possums or foxes will make a delicacy of your chickens.

I have to admit, there is something about being able to live off your own land that makes life a bit more meaningful. When we plant our garden in the summer and have abundant vegetables, I remind myself how lucky we are to be able to grow and provide food for ourselves.  Jim’s newest hobby is bees and he’s put in a couple of hives. I can taste the honey already. I’ll bring you around again when I’m ready for that story.

A big thank you to my daughter Michelene Cain, for these beautiful pictures!

Deeper Into Faith

There was a loss in my family last week. It was a loss so deep, so painful, it is still hard to come to terms with it even now, one week later.

I cannot imagine how I would be coping with it without faith. In a conversation I had with a dear friend of mine during this hard time, we wondered how a person of no faith could handle an unexpected loss of a loved one. We would be very angry, we surmised. We would have questions with no answers.

I can understand this thinking. Years ago I was one of those angry ones.  Angry for things that happened  beyond my control. The drama that surrounded my life was measurable, catastrophic to me at the time. It did not occur to me that faith would have made things much easier.  It would have eased the burden I was so bent on shouldering.

Now I know what the answer is. The answer is Faith. Faith fills me with peace and serenity when I let her in. I want to go deeper now, deeper into my soul where she is willing to provide me with peace and rest for my turbulent thoughts. This will help me do what I most want to do. That is, to stay calm, to pray for the others.

I have close friends who suffered a great loss a few years ago. My husband and I spent a great deal of time with them, still do. Nothing takes away pain but time and faith. Faith that another day will dawn, that life goes on. My friends were an inspiration with their dogged commitment to faith and life. They pushed on. They did the best they could under stressful circumstances.

I am grateful it is Spring. The birds are singing, the flowers budding, the grass greening. It gives me hope that going Deeper into Faith will sprout a greater awareness of the great goodness of the universe and its potential to heal us all.

Seedling
Seedling (Photo credit: _sjg_)

Sky Watcher

Photo by Michelene Cain

It’s been a rough week.

Some things happened this past week that were so beyond my control. I badly wanted to take charge of the unmanageable situations, line them up like obedient soldiers, solve each issue one by one. When it was all over I could feed everyone chicken soup and chunky homemade chocolate chip cookies. I just wanted to make it all better.

Instead, I’ve eaten a few too many Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies and prayed for help. Please God, keep me from interfering where I shouldn’t. I can so justify my reasons for intruding, but at this stage of the game I know better.

Assisting others can be one of my star attributes. It can also be one of my biggest character flaws. When I do for others what they can do for themselves, I am robbing them of their own opportunities to grow or feel their own emotions.

For me, the fine line of distinction with regards to assisting others is my motive. Do I want to ride in on my white horse and save the day? Is my offer to help motivated by my own ego? Or is someone in genuine dire need or danger? Sometimes I need a good friend to help me figure things out.

When I am troubled by events beyond my control, I become a sky watcher. God speaks to me through the sky.  And so the past few days, I have taken every advantage to stare at the morning sunrise, the afternoon sun or clouds, and the deep dark sky filled with the stars and full moon of last week. I can be alone for a few minutes and ground myself again to my sense of purpose. That is, I am here to be of service, not to force my will on anyone. And I know deep inside that when I allow my loved ones the opportunity to solve their own problems, I give them (and myself) a great gift.

Photo by Michelene Cain

Cheer Up Sleepy Jean

The Monkees, left to right: Micky Dolenz, Davy...
Image via Wikipedia

I can’t believe Davy Jones is gone. I found out on the Yahoo home page yesterday and I just haven’t been the same since.

When I was 9 years old, the Monkees were on television with their weekly show. I don’t think I ever missed an episode. They were so corny and silly, what was not to love? And their music. Awesome. Just the perfect blend of soft pop and sweet melodies.

Back then, my sisters and I were the perfect age for pretending. We loved to pretend that we were the Monkees. I remember getting together with the other neighborhood kids and having a concert in the basement. We asked our moms to be the audience. They politely sat there and gabbed while we played Monkees music and banged away on our musical instruments. We wanted to be just like the Monkees….

Lots of my girlfriends had a crush on Davy Jones but my favorite was Peter Tork. At least there was some hope there. Davy was just too cute, too impossible a dream.

A few years ago, there was a CD available at Costco of greatest hits of the Monkees. I bought it and played “Last Train to Clarksville” over and over again. I just loved that song. But who doesn’t love “Daydream Believer“. Another great song.

Dear Davy, I hope you are banging away on your heavenly tambourine. The Monkees will never be the same without you!

Good Orderly Direction

Sailboat
Sailboat (Photo credit: Stephen Downes)

In case I haven’t mentioned it lately, I am 54 years young. The era of my 50’s sometimes seems like the most haphazard of my life so far. I can’t remember a decade when I have felt so much like a ship without a rudder.

When I was a small child, I couldn’t wait to be all grown up. In my 20’s it was all about marriage, making babies and managing top sales in a home party business. In my 30’s it was raising babies and starting a real, bricks and mortar business. My 40’s felt powerful, career and otherwise, with the selling of my business, utilizing my skills, and the start of a personal journey for some much needed balance, serenity and faith.

What can I say about my 50’s so far? Well, I feel rich in blessings, deep in spirit and more comfortable in my own skin. I also feel slightly worn out, like a pair of old slippers that are finally broken in. I have let my hair go back to it’s original (non dyed) color. It is an interwoven mix of silver and soft black. I receive lots of compliments on it and alternately, my share of folks who can’t help but stare at it.

My hair, just like me lately, is a wish to be authentic. To dig down deep and present myself as I truly am.

But back to the ship without a rudder. I’ve been thinking that maybe this is a good thing. I have always had goals, aspirations and dreams. I have always loved a good challenge. Maybe for once I can let the wind take me where it wishes and I can give up steering the ship so strongly for a while.

Good Orderly Direction (GOD) for me is about loving myself enough to follow a path that unfolds as it’s divinely meant to. It could unfold into something bigger than I can imagine, or it may just be the rest I’ve been craving. Hopefully it will be a direction that sets my sails for even greater spiritual awareness.

Sunrise over Vero Beach, FL

On Being “Katherine’s Daughter”

In just three short months since I started blogging, life is definitely different. I love writing my blog, being part of the writing world and sharing some inspirational experiences of love, hope and faith.

WordPress.com is the host of my blog. For me it has become a mecca of sorts, where I can rub shoulders with and be inspired by some great writers. When I began the creation process for my blog, the WordPress prompts asked me what is the name of your blog? In the two minutes it took me to think of a name, I chose Katherine’s Daughter. Yes, I am the daughter of a Katherine (with a K!). She is the beautiful woman with me in the picture above. We are all someone’s daughter or son, aren’t we? Perhaps I felt my blog name implied a common bond that I could share with my audience.

That said, I have friends who do not (or did not) have memorable mothers. It doesn’t matter. I swear God sees to it that there is always someone in our life who will love, nurture and care about us. That chosen person will bring out the good parts of us and love us unconditionally, thank goodness. They will mentor us through difficult times. Think of who that person is for you. That person, for me, is Katherine.

My father passed away some fifteen years ago. Katherine is now 82 years old but gets along very well. Her vision is somewhat compromised so Cally, my youngest sister, has begun reading my blog posts to Katherine whenever she visits her.

I spoke with Katherine last night and she mentioned three of my last blog posts. Cally had apparently read all of them to her yesterday and Katherine said something to me about each one. I am truly blessed to have a mother who not only supports my writing but makes positive comments about it! Good Lord, what a blessing!

I want to thank my family and friends who have supported my blog, shared it on their Facebook pages, loved me through this process, even become one of my subscribers. In case you didn’t know, there is a place on my blog page where you can sign up to get my twice weekly blog stories. (Yes, you can have me drop- kicked to your email every week!). Best of all, it is FREE to subscribe. I just love free stuff…don’t you?

My goal is to publish a book, hopefully within a year, with stories on faith and love. A book to warm your heart and help you realize how truly loved you are. So many things have inspired me (another story!) and I just continue to follow my dreams. I hope you don’t mind if I take you with me.

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