Eclipse, Wrapped Up with a Bow

I knew I couldn’t make my husband Dave's dream come true on my own—God would have to intervene. I wasn’t thinking of the obvious things (like the sun and moon)—but the “mountains” that so often consume our daily lives of chemical sensitivities and complications from chronic Lyme disease: there couldn’t be anyone smoking. No bug spray. No perfumey people. No overwhelming crowds or blaring music or vibrating bass. We needed to avoid most of the 200,000 people flooding to Southern Illinois for the eclipse on August 21, 2017.

Sun with sunspots, August 20th

Dave’s lifelong dream started when he was 9 or 10, with a book about the stars and planets from his Uncle Eddie. I remember the morning at our kitchen table when the dream spilled out like so many moonbeams, unable to be contained—but Dave was choked up because the totality of it all seemed too impossible. That’s when I knew—we had to make this one happen.

Dave, bespeckled with eclipse glasses!

Dave studied the map, looking for the perfect place that would be lovely and clear and not too crowded. A spot in nature—because part of the experience, he knew from his extensive reading, is not just what you see but what you hear. This, too, was part of the dream, and even then, God’s finger was nudging Dave to a quiet side of a smaller lake where a few thoughtful people would gather but the crowds would ignore.

A quiet little spot on the lake

Dave started setting up the tripod as I unpacked our antigravity chairs (which assisted Dave in lying back and sitting up), and we snapped a quick shot of the vanishing sun. We were really there!

Our first glimpse, around noon

The air had that greenish glow-before-a-storm look to it, not the light of twilight. 

Dragonfly along the shore

As the sun inched away bit by bit, we marveled that there was still so much light with just a sliver of sun. Then the birds shifted to their nighttime warble and the frogs began their rhythmic croaking. A great blue heron set his shyness aside and garnered the courage to wing across the wide lake in front of us, eager for his “dusk” feeding. Cicadas drummed out their deafening cacophony, and the cool of evening fell.

The final sliver of sun slipped away and cheers rose from around the lake! 

Then, silence and awe. We all listened, engulfed, entranced, lulled by the blackened new moon where once the sun had shone, and the brilliant corona, joyfully dancing around it in the solar winds. A few planets and stars twinkled, and the gravitational pull of totality held us in its spell. It seemed like it would last forever. 

Then, suddenly, the diamond ring burst forth and the sun peeked out, flooding our senses with light again.

The first new light from the sun spilled out in little pools, and Dave cupped his hands. The light seemed tangible, as if we could scoop it up like so many moon-balls in our hands.

The second dawn of the day awakened.

I opened the Word, but before I could turn to Psalm 19, the leaves of a tree showered its pinhole-camera crescent shadows. I had actually walked the grounds, looking for this just before totality—what a joy to see it as we stopped to read:

The heavens declare the glory of God;
    the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech;
    night after night they reveal knowledge.
They have no speech, they use no words;
    no sound is heard from them.
Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,
    their words to the ends of the world.
In the heavens God has pitched a tent for the sun.
    It is like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber,
    like a champion rejoicing to run his course.
It rises at one end of the heavens
    and makes its circuit to the other;
    nothing is deprived of its warmth.
The law of the Lord is perfect,
    refreshing the soul.
The statutes of the Lord are trustworthy,
    making wise the simple.
The precepts of the Lord are right,
    giving joy to the heart.
The commands of the Lord are radiant,
    giving light to the eyes.
The fear of the Lord is pure,
    enduring forever.
The decrees of the Lord are firm,
    and all of them are righteous.
They are more precious than gold,
    than much pure gold;
they are sweeter than honey,
    than honey from the honeycomb.
By them your servant is warned;
    in keeping them there is great reward.
But who can discern their own errors?
    Forgive my hidden faults.
Keep your servant also from willful sins;
    may they not rule over me.
Then I will be blameless,
    innocent of great transgression.
May these words of my mouth and this meditation of my heart
    be pleasing in your sight,
    Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer.

--Psalm 19, NIV 

Then, joy upon joy, as if one heavenly sign of God’s power and love wasn’t enough, God wrapped up our 28^th anniversary trip with a storm and a rainbow on our way home.  

"I will remember my covenant between me and you
and all living creatures of every kind." 

Happy 28th Anniversary, Dave!

Stop...and pray

Walking through my favorite nature preserve one day, I noticed...there were branches down over the path everywhere. Some small and easy to navigate...some much harder to cross. Here's one of my favorite spots:

Anna looks so small sitting on top! She wanted to walk the tree like a bridge over the creek! I talked her out of it.

It's hard to tell here, but it completely blocks the path--you either have to do the limbo under it (in ways that my back no longer bends!), crawl over, or walk around the roots.

This particular day, the sun made the grass glow on the other side, a sign of life and hope and growth beyond the dead and brittle branches. A reminder to stop and pray along the way. To set our minds on things above...and  not the things of earth that fill our time and block our path.

Even on the other side, I have to look back, as even now I look back at how God has worked in our lives, and how he walks with us through good times and hard. Sometimes I turn back about 20 feet later, and this massive obstacle seems so small in retrospect. The troubles that fill our lives now will one day look the same, will fade into the background and pale compared to God's glory. For now, these things are reminders to stop and pray, and look to him.

"Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.  Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.  For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God.  When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory."

 - Colossians 3:1-4 

Dog Poo and Falling Too...

This might seem like a funny title for a "Thankful Thursday" post!  But my grandma used to say to learn to laugh at myself so I'd always have something funny to think about--and that works for me!

Yesterday I went for a walk, and was feeling kind of down when I started.  Then I found a penny and it reminded me of a friend who used to always throw pennies when he found them, thinking that it would make some little kid's day when he found it later!  And then it reminded me of Dave and shopping at Aldi's where you have to put a quarter in a slot to get a cart--and the joy he takes in giving his cart away to others without getting his quarter back!  So I started to smile and decided...this was a day to be thankful.

The green grass, blue sky, and sunshine--definitely something to be thankful for!

Then, a nanosecond too late to stop myself...you guessed it, I stepped in dog poo.  Then I laughed.  I'm thankful that it went "crunch" instead of "smoosh!"  Yeah, I can be kinda uncouth like that...

I walked a little farther and found another penny.  Ha!  The day's "2-cents worth."

I turned up one of the main streets in our town, and looked for a good time to cross the 5-lane road.  (My walk was doubling as a trip to the health-store for vitamins).  As I watched the traffic, I missed a foot-deep hole and face-planted in the grass.  (Am I the only person who thinks it's funny that I fell on the way to the health-store?!).  If you saw me, it's ok, you can laugh.  I did get up quickly, and hoped no one would stop!

The man at the store suggested this was a good day to be working outside, but I thought to myself, Not with my track record today!

The rest of my walk was uneventful and enjoyable.  I'm thankful I'm able to walk...remembering times when things like asthma and plantar fasciitis have prevented me.  And I'm thankful I didn't break my leg!

Hidden Potential

Forsythias in full bloom

My forsythias were beautiful this year!  I was excited this spring to see them full of little yellow buds, and watched the flowers unfold in all their fiery brilliance.

Budding this spring...

Forsythias only bloom on the previous year’s new growth.  And because our bushes were trained as a hedge in front of our house (long before we moved in), the blooms are usually scanty.  I longed to see their radiance.  They had been healthy, but their glory, their potential was hidden inside.

So last year, we pruned them instead of trimming them.  We cut back a third of the largest branches so that there would be more room down low for new growth, and we didn’t trim the long, scraggly branches that shot up several feet from the top.  My son, who takes pride in his job of mowing our lawn helped me, but he complained about those ugly bushes all summer long.  They made “his” lawn look terrible! 

After pruning and a trim..."They still look ugly!" 

When people would visit, they eyed our hedges with silent disdain or a smirk, and sometimes sympathetically asked if we needed help trimming our bushes.  Indeed, one day a work crew came and almost mistakenly cut the forsythia instead of the gigantic junipers out back!   I saved my precious, beloved bushes just in time, but I did take some advice to slightly trim those scraggly shoots.  We left at least a foot of new growth on top to support the new blooms, but the bushes did benefit from that bit of cosmetic shaping. 

“They still look ugly,” my son would say.  He was right.   But this spring it was worth it to see the fruit of all that waiting.  Next week, however, they will wonder what happened. I plan to cut them down to knee height.   They have been miss-trained for too long to simply prune them, and to get the truly lovely shape as well as the color they were designed for, I have to face facts and cut them back.

Beautiful blooms treasured by a novice gardener

I’m a little intimidated because I’m not a master gardener like our Heavenly Father, who knows when to prune and when to cut us back.  Maybe those around us sometimes think our form is unsightly in the process, and they may even look at us with disdain—but God knows what he’s doing.  He knows the glory, the hidden potential of the Son shining through us.  He sees what we cannot, “providence.”  He sees (video) before (pro), and plans and works accordingly.  He longs to see our beauty, for we are his beloved.  When he cuts us back to the ground, that’s when we can know most though we may feel it least—we are greatly loved and treasured by Father-Son-Spirit who works in us for our good.  I treasure my bushes.  Think how much more the Keeper of your soul treasures you.

Footprints Reprise

I see his 

blistered feet 

on parched sands 

picking up shell 

fragments and 

holding them 

gently in his hands— 

 And one day he will make us whole.

Shell fragments, hot sand, and two hearty flowers, Washington Island

© 2003 by Merry Marinello

Look what my BABY did at camp!?!?!?!

Gee, I guess it really DOES pay to send those disposable cameras to camp with them. I just got the pics back today & amid the multitude of dark, grainy pictures, I found THIS:



Gives me the shivers, LOL!

I have TOUCHED a snake...but never CUDDLED one!!

Merry :-)

Ice Storms!

I had to share a few pictures. This is our street. It's hard to do it justice in pictures, but the sun shining in the trees sparkled in a rainbow of colors. Thankfully we didn't have any significant damage, and not too many people here have lost power. I'll have to get a picture of our neighbor's evergreen tree that's looking more like a pole these days.

Amazingly, with the temperate weather in November, some things started to bud again. Our black-eyed susans had sprouted whole new plants!


Here you can see new leaves on our neighbor's lilac bush.