Wedding and Weeding

This week marks the date, April 24, 2011, that our youngest daughter, Trisha and her boyfriend, Patrick got engaged. We are very happy for them, and look forward to their wedding day that will be a year from now.

I have spent the better part of this week also 'weeding' through storage boxes of our children's childhood memorabilia. So, it's not uncommon that I should be feeling nostalgic and somewhat emotional about all that has recently transpired as a result of another child leaving the 'nest'.

Once the wedding takes place, our home truly will be an 'empty nest'. Our home will grow a bit larger as another bedroom will be vacated. It's a happy occasion, but I admit, I will miss having Trisha at home. She has surrounded us with the dimension of the younger generation. I know that wih her leaving to begin her married life there will come some changes. My consolation is the fact that my husband and I have one another, and the fact that our children continue to add another layer of fellowship and connection in our family make-up, even as they lead their own lives.

I am going to enjoy this wedding planning period, though. It's not everyday that your youngest daughter gets married, and we're elated for her and Patrick. Congratulations, and God bless you both!!

Joy Comes in the Morning

How thankful I am for God's truth expressed in...Psalm 30:5 "...Weeping may endure for a night, But joy comes in the morning."
No matter how dark the night may seem, the light of hope and mercy floods our very soul.

Only this very morning, I was reminded of God's light as I looked upon that which shone through my kitchen windows. The dancing colors reflected off the stained glass windows moved upon the surface of the kitchen counter, and seemed to be making time with a bird's song coming from a moving branch from the century-old oak tree directly outside the window.
This was not the case for me not so long ago. Then, the light was absent, and only darkness loomed. Circumstances seemed unchangeable, and the sheer stillness that accompanied this darkness appeared to never end.

Yet, God's Word and His promises are true. For the night does not last forever, and the faithfulness of our Father comes marching upon the eastern horizon. It's brightness and colors are magnificent! My soul rejoices with gratitude.

So, if tonight you are wrapped in darkness and solitude, look up. Very soon, and very near will the morning appear, and in your heart you will feel the light that only Jesus can bring, and joy that is inexpressible, and void of infection by circumstances or trials.

Joy comes in the morning!

41 Years and a Day to Remember

April 20, 1970-- a memorable day for me. Probably the biggest decision I ever made in my life behind my decision to follow the Lord.
This was the day I accepted my husband David's invitation to be his girlfriend.
I was 13 years old, and probably didn't know too much about life. One thing I did know, though, was that this guy was cute, and made my toes tingle, and my heart beat faster when he was close at my side. I also knew that this guy was smart. I was able to get an "A" in math just by being close enough to see his answers.
He's still the 'math guy' in our family. Very good with numbers, he calculates in his mind, coming up with a swift answer, while I am still looking for a pencil in my purse to write down the figures. I guess I was pretty smart, too. Look who I picked to share my life with!
Best decision I've ever made.

No Easter Chicks

Easter is coming, and so much activity revolves around this special day. It used to be that I stressed about this holiday, that had become way too busy for me. I dreaded the store aisles of endless bunnies and eggs, and thought way too much emphasis was put on chocolate and marshmallow chicks.

Speaking of chicks, I didn't even like to think about them. When I was four years old, I had a terrible experience with a chick. It was in those days that we used to go to our local parish, Holy Name of Mary Church on the Saturday before Easter and go hunting for Easter eggs placed in brown paper bags that were spread about the wide dirt property that was used for the church parking in the 1960's when I was a child.

My brother, Ruben had won the prize of a chick because he gathered the most brown bags. This I felt was unfair to begin with, as I only managed to get my hands on one brown paper sack-- I couldn't compete with the older kids, and to this day, I still don't get it why the prize was given for grabbing as many bags as possible. Wasn't that enough prize in itself?

As I recall, Ruben won the prize that year, and won a real live baby chick. It really was a cute little thing.

I still remember that Saturday afternoon. My little sister, Ceci had just been born a few months before, and a relative had given my mom a blanket in one of those boxes that had a cellophane "window" so the folded blanket in the box could be seen. I was immediately fascinated with this box, quickly reasoning that it could be a 'television'. I immediately framed my face with the box lid, and jumped off the bed to go make my first 'TV appearance' to my siblings.

Unfortunately, when I bounced off the bed to the floor, I didn't realize that Ruben had allowed his new pet chick to roam on the floor. Splat! My bare foot plopped down on that little creature, and it was a fatal blow. The next thing I knew, Ruben was crying to our mom, as he was going around the house cupping the chick in his hands.

I felt terrible, and to this day, think that it's a very irresponsible idea for any adult, let alone a church staff member to decide to give such a delicate creation to any child, no matter how many brown bags he or she may have found.

So it's no coincidence that I have chosen to fill my children's and grandchildren's Easter baskets with lots of goodies like chocolate eggs, foil wrapped Easter bunnies, and plastic eggs full of jelly beans and/or M&M's. One thing you'll never find in their baskets is a marshmallow chick. That's where I draw the line. Somethings are never forgotten, and I just can't fit a chick into a picture of a happy Easter experience.

The Lord has His Eye on the Sparrow

Yesterday morning while walking back to my house from taking my trash cans to the curbside, I noticed Kitty, our 10-year-old gray cat 'playing' with something between her front clawless paws.

I immediately reached for the moving object, and to my astonishment, recognized that it was a tiny bird. I quickly scooped it up, while my cat scowled at me, quite disappointed that I had taken her "toy" away. My heart was moved with great compassion as this baby bird moved in my hands and chirped his little voice. I suddenly realized why an adult bird, obviously the baby bird's mother or father was frantically flying over head moments before I made my discovery.

I didn't know what to do immediately, for I have never really been a 'bird person.' My sister, who is, told me to feed it small particles of bread soaked in milk with a toothpick so the bird wouldn't die of malnutrition. I quickly found a box, lined it with a new white hand towel, as it was what was close at hand. I attempted to feed the little bird, and also placed a tiny dish of water inside the box I hoped would allow the bird to feel he was back in his nest.

The bird wouldn't receive the food from me, though, so I put him in the safety of my home, away from Kitty Bitty, and moved on to other chores, intending to come back to the bird in a few minutes to try to feed him again. Not 10 minutes passed by, and I was back at the small nest I had created for the bird. However, he was still. I gently tapped him, and was overcome with sadness that the little bird had died.

I felt so sad. I don't know if it was because I had become so attached to this little creature in such a short time. He defintely had grown on me. He had chirped for me, moved his little wings, and his little feet had wrapped around my index finger, as if to say, "I trust you." I decided that there was a reason I had come upon this bird, and pondered what purpose it was for. I quietly placed the bird in a brown paper sack, and disposed of him in my outgoing trash bin, being soberly glad that the city sanitation company would take him away the same day, and I wouldn't have the makeshift 'casket' in my trash container for days to remind me of this short lived life.

Life is precious. It does not matter if it's the life of a celebrity like Michael Jackson or Elizabeth Taylor, a homeless person on skid row, or in this case, a small baby bird, who unfortunately, fell from the nest trying to make his first flight, only to be almost killed by a cat, rescued, and then dying (as a result of the fall, or for other reason little birds don't make it past a few months of their birth).

The Lord loves all of the above, watches out for them, and hurts when His creation is hurled tragedy or death. I won't soon forget this experience, and pray that God allows it to make His impression on my heart. God loves even the sparrow, and looks out for Him. How much more does he love His children, and never leaves, nor forsakes us!

1985- A Year to Remember Guillian-Barre Syndrome

Today, I ran upon a small article in the sports section of our Press Enterprise, Riverside, CA Sunday newspaper. It caught my eye because the heading read, "Boy gives ring to 'The Fridge'. That caption alone was enough to catch anybody's curiosity to read further. However, two things jumped out at me about this story-- The year 1985, and Guillian-Barre Syndrome. I related immediately with the contents. You see, it was in 1985 that my father, Francisco Lopez, at the age of 62, was stricken with a virus that changed his whole life, not to mention the lives of his wife, Juanita, and his eight children and their loved ones. Guillian-Barre Syndrome is a virus that affects one of every 100,000 people in the U.S. alone. My father was one of those unlucky people. Getting back to the story in the paper-- in Chicago, a Chicago Bears lineman and occasional goal-line running back had become a national celebrity during his rookie season with Chicago in 1985, and helped the Bears team win the Super Bowl XX title. However, disease and illness does not recognize celebrities or a father of eight. Guillian-Barre Syndrome rendered William "The Refrigerator" Perry the blow of paralysis. Recently, a young ten-year-old "gentleman", (because this is what he is to me) took $8,500.00 out of his college savings, (with his parents' permission, of course), in order to purchase Perry's Super Bowl ring in New York. The interesting thing in this besides the unbelievable compassion and unselfishness displayed in this young man, is the coincidental number 85. It was both in '85 that my father and Mr. Perry contacted the disease, and the amount of money to purchase the ring back for Mr. Perry was $85 hundred dollars. It also reminded me that God truly does bring comfort to those who suffer extreme pain. While my father, Mr. Perry, and countless others have suffered from the debilitating autoimmune disease attack of the nervous system, Guillian-Barre Syndrome, there are the beautiful endings such as this story of a boy giving back to someone who needed encouragement. In the same way in my personal story, there is a beautiful ending. My father, who died in 2006 from pneumonia (complications from having Guillian-Barre Syndrome), lived out 20 gracious years, touching countless lives by each day setting out in his wheelchair making friends in his neighborhood, and never being rude, or grouchy because of his physical ailments. He also managed to bring together his eight children to become a team that worked together to allow our father to remain in the comfort of his home by rotating stays, maintaining his home, and most of all, being the children that their father meant to raise. I pray for Mr. Perry, in his battle with this disease. I ask God's blessing on the 10-year-old, Cliff Forrest, of Fox Chapel, Pennsylvania, who gave sacrificially, simply because, as he told his dad, "He (Perry) only played in one Super Bowl. I thought he would want it (the ring) more than I did." Mr. Perry may have only played one Super Bowl, and my father, Mr. Lopez may have only lived one life, but in both cases, the blessings returned by both of these men to others are innumerable.

Coronado- A Gem in My Backyard

I have been a Californian for over 50 years, yet, I had never visited the world famous Coronado Hotel on the Coronado Island just off San Diego.

I was a guest of Deb and Jeff, newlyweds from Florida, and the mother-in-law and step father-in-law of our daughter, Anicia. What a jewel this place was. Built in the 1880's, the Coronado Hotel was once the largest wooden structure built in the world. It's grandeur still remains in the tall exposed wooden beams, and carved crowns (coronitas) in the beautiful wood bannisters.

Having brunch with my daughter, son-in-law, Brian, and Deb and Jeff was special enough alone. But, what a setting to celebrate with them this special occasion of their wedding! I will definitely go back to the Coronado Hotel again, and savor it's shops, history of movies made, like Marilyn Monroe's 1958 hit 'Some like it Hot', and just kick around on the beautiful grounds with their unique plants and trees. The only regret I have is not going there sooner. When I go back next time, I'm taking my camera!