Chapel of Hope Stories

Dear Reader:

When I read the mantra that accompanied my recently arrived stove range cover… I had to smile. HAPPINESS IS HOMEMADE. I might be remembered for being the ” Best Picker-Upper this side of the Mississippi River” … when it comes to meals… but Becky, the ” Little Home-Maker and Chef of Homemade Delights” … not!

The more I thought about it… the more I realized that the term homemade has lost most of its original insinuation. One definition simply defined homemade as something being made at home, rather than in a store or factory.

Unless someone lives on a completely self-sustaining farm… ( is that even possible these days) how many of us might make a meal at home from store grocery bags … containing all the ingredients for a meal being brought in … even though it was compiled and cooked at home? Weren’t the ingredients made in factories and then shipped to stores? In other words… is anything really homemade anymore?

We live in a very fragile dependent world today… based on imports and exports. The coronavirus showed us just how dependent the world is on each other… which during good economic days works okay – but not so well when we can’t depend on getting the vital resources expected in our homes and lifestyles. Many of us became more ” home bodies” during this original coronavirus stage … and still are to a certain degree… ad continuum…

The expression handmade runs the same gamut… something built by hand -not a machine. Again… most handmade crafts might be created and molded by hand but in the process … most of the time… some shape or form of a machine is used during the process.

When I got to Homespun an interesting history lesson evolved! Originally the term referred to cloth made entirely at home-which was an incredibly labor intensive project. The term revived during the Civil War … especially in the South for practical and patriotic reasons.

However, the term took a negative turn in its usage towards political candidates… especially aimed at Abraham Lincoln. It’s synonyms started meaning rustic, crude, ordinary, plain, unpolished, ignorant and simple… as in simple-minded.

Today some historians still define Lincoln’s humor as ” homespun” but I would have to disagree… it was his keen wit and fast-paced humorous retorts that slowly won early audiences over to Abraham Lincoln… he was ” homespun” in the sense that there never seemed to be enough material to cover his 6′ 4 ” frame… especially his pants … and early in his career he was teased unmercifully about his calf-length cropped buckskin pants… today his pants would be considered ” high water.”

But once when teased about it on a platform as he was getting ready to deliver a speech… Lincoln just smiled and said he kept his pants short for a reason… if the crowd turned on him he could run faster that way. The audience laughed.

*** I could really relate to this story since my brother David ( who was also 6’4 and 140 on a good day) had to have his pants made for him… until finally mother and Aunt Eva found a shop in Greenville who could alter and fit David with his first bell bottoms… ( cool pants like everyone else was wearing) David was the happiest I ever saw him!

So until tomorrow… I think the mantra on the stove cover should read Happiness is Home … and you can ” spin” that anyway you want!

Today is my favorite day -Winnie the Pooh

Dear Reader:

Don’t we all wish we could maintain such a “laissez-faire” ( take life as it comes) attitude? It is summertime … but we all know… the ” living isn’t always easy!

Still… I am no naysayer to my love of summer… as a student and later teacher… summer meant freedom and possibilities of new experiences. But my number one thought always included two things…beach and beach reads! This has not changed!

I was watching our local ” Lowcountry Live” television show the other day and they had an author on talking about her debut new book. Something about her felt familiar… then her name popped up on the screen… Victoria Benton Frank.

I was still staring at the screen as she talked about her novel setting on Sullivan’s Island and her personal experiences she wove into the story spending time there as a child growing up.

Suddenly the neurons lit up… of course! We have several nationally well-known popular storytellers-especially “Beach Read” authors whose latest novels are highly anticipated each summer season.

Victoria’s mother was Dorothea Benton Frank… a very popular author in this genre. As Victoria told about her mother’s courageous fight against myelodysplastic-a bone marrow disorder-she said her mother listened to her thoughts about writing a book set on Sullivan’s Island and her mother was thrilled… encouraging her to try her hand at writing.

Dorothea’s novels scanned from 1999 ( Sullivan’s Island… still my favorite) to Queen Bee-her last novel in 2019 before her passing.

Victoria went on to tell the studio audience that life got in the way initially …concerning her writing career, she tried a different career, married, had children and then one day, out of the blue, she remembered her mother’s excitement about her potential story and her father’s continued encouragement-end result… My Magnolia Summer.

I have just started the novel… but I must admit the beautiful descriptive first paragraph has already drawn me into the world of summer beach reads…

” Last night I dreamed of Charleston, as I do almost every night. Far away from my beloved land by day, at night I am there. I dreamed of the marsh grass, the coral sunsets, the smell of ploughing mud, and the sound of the breeze rustling through the fronds of the palmetto trees. If you were to cut me open, you’d find the water of the Atlantic instead of blood, driftwood instead of bones, and seashells in place of everything else. When I was a little girl, and I couldn’t sleep, my grandmother used to tell me to pretend that my breaths were the ocean waves rolling in and pulling away from shore. I belong to Charleston. I belong to the island. Sullivan’s Island, where I grew up , calls me home every night.

… This is my story about how I returned to the island and found my wings.

So until tomorrow..,If I could snap my fingers right now… I would be in my tall beach chair ( don’t want to have to crawl around to get up) with a cold beer, my beach read, a floppy straw hat … digging my toes into sand and mud-depending on the tides. It’s time … and as the saying goes ” Time and Tide wait for no man… or woman.”

Today is my favorite day –Winnie the Pooh

*** I loved Victoria’s dedication page

For Momma, who told me I could do it

For Daddy,For making sure I did.

Dear Reader:

I started my post yesterday and was typing away when I hit a wrong button and it was gone… usually I can track it down under several different headings … in progress, incomplete post,etc… nope I had deleted with no backup… gone. Finis!

I counted to ten and decided to take a break … it had been a long morning finishing up with some medical errands and then some afternoon bank and grocery runs… so I rested and was scrolling on FB … reading friends news …when suddenly I was stopped in my ” tracks.”

My longtime friend, Cindy Ashley, had posted a poem that touched me greatly… after reading it… I knew exactly how the author felt because it had happened to me. A deja vu feeling.

The week I spent with Mandy and the children (while John was away on business) provided me with time to walk over to the surrounding ponds and canals and just watch waterfowl of every description float by. I found the experience so unbelievably soothing … I started returning day after day with my mobile phone… poised to take an instant photo …if the opportunity arose… and then it happened.

Two breathtaking geese entered the water together and seemed to take turns looking for food… one bopped up while the other went under hunting for food. It was as if one would play lookout for the other… and then it was reciprocated.

It almost seemed synchronized… but then slowly they started moving away and fell into their natural smooth beautiful pattern that I fortunately caught it on camera!

It is my favorite photo… I need to enlarge and make a copy-frame it… with the simple title PEACE and HARMONY.

Then yesterday …when I came across the following poem … I realized that my thoughts, concerns, and worries were so similar to the author’s… it was as if God made sure I found it and got His response … His message back to me.

When despair for the world grows in me

and I wake in the night at the least sound

in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be

I go and lie down where the wood drake

rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feed

I come into the peace of wild things

who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief

I come into the presence of still water

And I feel above me the day-blind stars

waiting with their light. For a time

I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Wendell Berry

As humans… we are worriers… each stage of our lives provides different forms of worry until by the time we reach our status as a matriarch or patriarch… or simply ” the seniors” … we find we worry little about ourselves… saving it all for the generations who will follow.

There is no doubt in my mind that ” senior” worrying has taken place since the beginning of time… the changing agrarian lifestyle to industrial, the car over the horse, computers and white boards over teaching chalk and blackboards. The ceaseless political debaters defending party over people, testing democracy… leaving the oldest generation worrying about future freedoms-trying to imagine a future that relies on technology over human decision-making. For all past generations .. it has been scary and will continue to do so. A different world for our future loved ones.

So until tomorrow… that’s where Faith comes in… God Time never changes… no matter the Roman numerals… and we know He will continue to make His Presence known through wild geese,, wood drakes, great herons… God takes us into the peace of wild things. Live in the moment and learn through observation.

Today is my favorite day-Winnie the Pooh

Dear Reader:

Yesterday I had a great lesson in perspectives… as patients going into medical centers for lab work and appointments… there is always that sense of ” What If or What Might They Find?”… best summed up as the ” Prick, Press and Prod” experience.

But what about everyone who works in the medical center… don’t they have their own perspectives each day?

Everyone of the ” Blood Lab Vampires ” is so nice and funny… going out of their way… to leave one with perhaps less blood but a smile on the face. Normally you return to the waiting room … to wait while some of the lab test results start showing up.

But Tuesday … I was taken immediately from the lab to the examination room to get all vital signs checked and my blood pressure was actually the best it has ever been… I must be finally ( after 15 years) getting over my white jacket high blood pressure syndrome. About time… right?

My wonderful oncologist and I had a fun discussion about her son and my two grandsons ( Rutledge and Lachlan) attending the same camp this June and hoping they can meet each other.

But still no lab results forthcoming so depending on the outcome of several criteria … it looks like there’s some follow-up procedures. Just have to take it one day at a time. God hasn’t steered me wrong yet.

And then while I was waiting to check out … I noticed a sign the appointment lady had put up… and I had to laugh!

Of course I wanted to know the story behind the sign… the receptionist sighed and shook her head… apparently I wasn’t the only one not sleeping well Monday night…as each office worker came in … each had their own story that had befallen them during the night before or that morning…sick children, no show babysitters (now that school was out) and car troubles… just to name a few.

The sweet but tired receptionist commented that the one good thing to come out of a tough work day was the unity and bonding felt as they all shared their misfortunes together. Misery does love company… tired or not.

But as Scarlet reminds us … ” Tomorrow is another day.” Clean slate… Hope rises with the sun!

So until tomorrow…

Am closing up the post today… a wonderful afternoon with a much needed rain shower…. in gratitude dear Father with drooping eyelids. Drop Drop Drip Drip!

Dear Reader:

” Just Happy to Be Here” loses something in translation when political candidates say it… repeatedly on a campaign trail…particularly when the facial expression and voice tone can’t quite pull it off…fatigued and depleted.

But I find myself saying it more often now than I ever did earlier in my life… because I , not only mean it, I feel it and want to express it.

I know how blessed I am … once upon a time I prayed to live to see my first-born grandchild and here I am thirteen years later with five grandchildren. I mean, come on now… what were the chances that new drugs and pioneer treatments would appear in perfectly timed intervals…thus keeping me in this wonderful “game” called life.

Most amazingly…I have learned how deeply spiritual gratitude goes… when it comes from the soul…it goes the whole distance… not stopping at mere ” thank you’s.” It fills one up from your toes to your head… all encompassing.

So this morning I can honestly tell the receptionist, lab and scan technicians, PA’s oncology nurses and doctors at another checkup…that I am ” Just Happy To Be Here”… ( when asked ” How I Am?) As long as I am still able to make appointments and ” show up” …life is continuing. ( They still make me nervous… but that just goes with the territory.)

Being able to wake up in the mornings and play in my garden is a delight I never experienced until after my cancer diagnosis but I just knew I wanted a garden while fighting this powerful nemesis… the strolls and meditations… the peace and serenity… and I did find my little peace of heaven here on earth.

So until tomorrow…

Today is my favorite day… Winnie the Pooh

Dear Reader:

Have you ever prayed for something fervently over long periods of time for yourself or others… but try as hard as you could… silence seemed to be the only response?

Especially… when it comes to healing… have we ever considered that there are different types of healing and no one size fits all … no matter the physical or mental personal challenge … that our perspective on what constitutes a ” healing” might not coincide with our Creator’s definition!

In the following beautiful Native-American story by Ray Buckley-The Wing-the issue of our will and our Creator’s will… comes full circle.

In the Foreword to this beautiful story… cultural history and God’s Creation emerge … producing a deeper understanding of God’s view of healing …

In Native-American cultures… one’s name is considered sacred. One’s name might reflect a spiritual identity, or an ancestor’s good character, or even be derived from a spiritual dream or vision. It might reflect a sacred vow or goal.

An individual’s name can be changed by the community as a way to recognize a significant life-changing event … however Spiritual change is marked by a complete change in identity…

Today we must remember that just because our circumstances might not be changing, it doesn’t mean that healing is not occurring! Often the healing is one of the Spirit… changing the heart instead of circumstances. Often the Creator, in an on-going act of creation, changes our name… we are not always ” repaired,” instead we are ” re-created.”

In this particular Native-American tale a little bird in the woods (where many creatures lived) entertained the other inhabitants with her brilliant colors, charm, and speed… so great was her speed… that the people named her ” She Who Flies Swiftly. ”

But one day when the sun arose no one saw ” She Who Flies Swiftly.” Then they saw the Creator enter the woods and lift the little bird from under the Great tree-she had a broken bone in one wing and couldn’t fly… but surely now that the Creator was holding her… she would be healed.

Everyone gathered to watch her fly again but it didn’t happen… the broken wing did not open… gossip started spreading that she must have done something to offend the Creator… slowly she was left all alone and forgotten. Even ” She who Flies Swiftly ” was desolate… ” Help me my Creator, Why can’t You fix me? Did I do something wrong?”

One lonely night ” She Who Flies Swiftly” realized her sobs and sighs had turned to singing … sad songs at first but with time suddenly notes of incredible beauty.

The haunting melody soon attracted all the inhabitants of the woods… the little bird was so lost in song she didn’t even see the gathering crowds.

One evening when it seemed like the music could not be more lovely… a new sound that no one had ever heard was added to the music of the bird. Quietly… then strong and assured and above all… loving.. came the Voice of the Creator. They were singing a duet… the people bore witness to the meeting of two hearts; one mighty… one small.

As the story ends…it is said that every evening… a song can be heard coming from beneath the Great Tree. It is a voice that once came from a broken wing… sung now by ” She Who Has Been Healed.”

So until tomorrow…

Today is my favorite day-Winnie the Pooh

Dear Reader:

Foreboding Joy… now that is about as good an example of an ” oxymoron ” as any sample I have heard… ( two opposite meanings connected together) so I should have known it was a Brene Brown creation.

Brene once wrote that her favorite quote (that proved to be the catalyst for her new outlooks on life) said simply; “The willingness to show up changes us. It makes us a little braver each time.”

This I could and still can relate to… standing in front of 30 thirteen year olds each morning… daring you to make their learning interesting …definitely required all kinds of armor… starting with ” vulnerability” … the term most closely associated with Brene Brown’s teachings.

Think about it… don’t we all emotionally ” armor up” each morning when we face the day to avoid shame, anxiety, uncertainty, and fear?”

There are all kinds of different armor people wear …to protect ourselves… numbing is one that Brene Brown says is a popular one… it consists of reactions like raiding the pantry and stuffing our faces as full of carbohydrates as humanly possible… some people turn to drugs , gossip… perhaps intertwined with social media these days.

Brene said the real truth emerges when you compare sharing some sad or hurtful personal problems on ( say) Facebook and getting back a few ” So Sorry” quips which make you feel marginally better. But how about taking off your armor… courageously calling a friend and asking if they have ten minutes to listen to something that hurt you terribly …( perhaps a job lay-off) and just listening …

The armor that really struck home with me was Foreboding Joy. ( I have certainly experienced this armor example. You get some amazing fantastic news that leaves you in an highly euphoric state of mind… crazy happy… but then before you can even share the good tidings of great joy… you start dress-rehearing for the disappointment that is sure to follow… ” It’s just too good to be true… it can’t last!” ” The pendulum is surely going to swing the other way! ”

There is one sure-fire method that works if we find ourselves purposely down-playing wonderful news… self-degrading our hard earned acknowledgment or achievement… we must turn our armor of vulnerability inside out and fill our response with overwhelming Gratitude!

So until tomorrow…

Today is my favorite day… Winnie the Pooh

Dear Reader:

I was so excited yesterday morning when I went to sadly clean out the moonflower seed planter that the squirrels had destroyed … pulling up every seed and green shoot plus knocking over the planter ( added salt in the wound) several weeks back.

I decided to clean it out and plant some wildflower seeds instead… but when I got there… two green leaves were smiling at me with one tendril reaching for the lattice to start climbing. One had survived! Happiness is…

Then to add more happiness… one of the mandevillas I bought turned out to be a trumpet climbing vine mandevilla so I cleaned off a trellis and moved it over to start climbing beside the fence! It will be so beautiful!

I switched my thoughts on planting the wildflowers there… just in case another miracle moonflower pops up… instead I am going the plant the wildflowers on the porch planter!

Once we realize that life is a journey …it becomes important to keep a ” running tab” on our daily steps … our planted seeds of everyday contributions that don’t have to measure achievements or accomplishments by others’ standards… but what the careful tending of our seeds are bringing to us now… peace, serenity and inner happiness.

So until tomorrow… We must all define our own success and then walk towards it every single day of our lives!

Today is my favorite day -Winnie the Pooh

Dear Reader:

While I was on my cooking spaghetti binge during the tropical storm type weather that prevailed throughout the Lowcountry over Memorial Day Weekend … dropping off plates… like Hansel and Gretel’s bread crumbs… to neighbors and friends…I called Mary Lee… a fellow CSU teaching cohort and church member whose husband John is a fellow cancer crusader!!! Two of the nicest people I know!

Like me… Mary had made spaghetti too during the cool rainy holidays but said if I had a sauce that could be frozen for another rainy …come on over and let’s catch up…John was having a good day!

I have been in the Lees’ home before but it had been a long time and I had forgotten that they had a large glassed-in living room/ den that just transported me to the outside beauty of their peaceful domain!

I could feel the stress of some earlier crazy days melting away… BUT…then my eye caught a large framed wall hanging that the very talented seamstress, quilter ( anything to do with material ) maker Mary had made!

A God Wink! This was the type of scene I was looking for… in my mind for Wednesday’s ” Wanderlust” post! I was in love… I wanted to be in that scene so I begged Mary to email me a photo of it to share!

Isn’t it mind-boggling that we can find individual beauty in our everyday lives… and then discover that if we put each object together in a mural effect… we have created a new secret paradise for our inner spirit to seek and dwell within?

So until tomorrow…

Today is my favorite day… Winnie the Pooh

*** When the grandchildren were all little…they crawled through the cut-out circle moon to go in the ” magic” garden where fairies and surcies lay hidden! Such sweet memories! Many special God Wink moments!

In 2014… I even got my moonflowers growing and blooming around the cut-out moon circle in the gate… never successful again but it was beautiful that one magical season!

*** Hope everyone got off to a ” rabbit hopping” great first June Day!

Dear Reader:

Never was this quote more applicable than yesterday when I went for my six month check-up and ( ouch) Prolia injection with my primary doctor… Dr. Sara Montoya.

Everyone was so nice…that came into the room… even the Prolia ” Injector.” ( though that is a l-o-n-g shot… I start counting the seconds… it is a thick serum that encompasses a burning sensation… so the seconds seem pretty long during this injection.)

***In case you haven’t seen the commercials …it is an injection to help people with low bone density …and since falls are our greatest nemesis as we grow older… I am thankful for it.

After the injection the cutest young ” intern” came through the door. She was a medical student at MUSC …completing one of her requirements for graduation … doing a month internship with a family physician. She was halfway through the experience and knew she had hit the “jackpot” with Dr. Montoya… she told me every patient told her the same thing but she knew it after the first meeting!

As we were chatting and I was telling her about my medical history with breast cancer … suddenly I found myself telling my story… starting with ” Hold My Hand.” You could have heard a pin drop… when I finished she sat and stared… I had started the intro with ” You are sitting and talking to a full-fledged miracle.”

Apparently before Dr. Montoya stepped in the intern had stopped her and pointed to the room and said she just heard the most amazing story. I ended my story with ” You are a great listener… you will be a wonderful doctor… just remember to listen to ” The Great Physician” … you will always be steered in the right direction … one consisting of compassion, love, and hope… life.”

It is our responsibility to reach back and share our life stories with those who will follow… so one day they will do the same thing to their next generation.

So until tomorrow…

Today is my favorite day… Winnie the Pooh