Sharing What Is Good

Well, our new year didn't start quite the way I imagined it would.

My husband and I were both sick over Christmas.

He caught a nasty cold and cough and spent almost two weeks on the sofa

while I oiled him up with immunity boosting, anti-viral therapeutic oils

and kept him well supplied with tissues.

I placed two home diffusers in the living room.  One at the head of the sofa and the other at the foot, 

and went through copious amounts of essential oils to aid in his breathing and congestion.

He became such a believer in these Young Living Essential Oils that he began asking for me to anoint him every few hours because they provided so much relief for him.

Knowing there was a pretty good chance that I would be on the receiving end of any errant cooties flying around the house, I oiled myself up every other hour and swiped my nose with Animal Scents Ointment laced with Lavender, Egyptian Gold, and Exodus II as a preventative measure.

I did catch a bit of a cold, but it only lasted for three days. I believe it was so short lived because of these wonderful gifts from God ~~ gifts that God intended as our medicines.

While traveling this "oily" journey, I continue to learn more and more about their healing properties. That, in turn, is forcing me to take a second look at what is in our pantry, what groceries I buy, how we eat, what we put in our bodies, and what we apply to our skin. 

Then, it dawned on me.

Each drop of an essential oil we use contains approximately 40 million-trillion molecules. (yes..that is a real number). If we're using these oils because they contain the power not only to heal us when we're sick, but to nurture and preserve our health when we are well, 

why in the world would I want to eat something or put something on my skin that is full of chemicals and is genetically modified? It's totally defeating the purpose of using these pure oils to stay healthy!

I read in my "Healing Oils of the Bible" that the oils' molecules deliver oxygen molecules to our cells, and can erase or deprogram miswritten codes in cellular memory. They can actually help fight cancer. They carry electrical charges, usually electrons or negative ions, which are healing and healthful. So, when we are eating things that weren't natural and organic, we certainly are not helping these oils to work optimally.

It was time for a change.

A BIG change.

Yes, it would be more expensive...because for some odd reason, eating healthy costs more than eating processed food.
But how many times have you have heard (or said yourself),

"When you have your health, you have everything."

So, I want to share with you what is good in our life right now.

I am running on my treadmill religiously at least four times per week, not allowing myself to stop until I log in at least three miles.  Today I started using the incline to push myself even harder; determined like never before to lose a few pounds before spring arrives.

I begin every other day by "oil pulling".  Taking a teaspoon of organic coconut oil, adding a couple drops of Thieves mouthwash (which I just love) to it, and swishing it around in my mouth for 15 minutes while I shower. It pulls toxins and bacteria not only from my mouth, but from my body as well.
It's all about prevention.

Some deliciously scented organic goats milk soap and shea butters arrived from Taproot Farms in Alaska. I love the feel of the silky soap, and the butters are so healing on winter dry skin.

(Not to mention, I'm totally diggin' the name of the soap.)

My long-time girlfriend who is also my hair dresser, gave me some Matrix oil to try on my hair.

I adore it. It makes it soft and manageable and keeps it healthy. It also smells absolutely heavenly.

I switched from coffee to organic tea spiked with cashew milk, raw honey, and a few drops of essential oils (cinnamon bark, Thieves, lemon, peppermint, and Slique). The cashew milk provides protein that keeps me full all morning long.

I make a Kefir smoothie at noon and nibble on some organic turkey jerky.

Grocery shopping is taking me longer. I read every single label and put items back on the shelf that have too many ingredients.  I am looking for the fewest ingredients as possible and if they are organic, all the better. It amazes me at the amount of chemicals, toxins, GMOs, and unnecessary additives that companies insist on pouring into their products. So disgusting.
We also stopped drinking any type of sodas due to all the chemicals in them
(like formaldehyde....really?)
My go-to drink is water with a few drops of lemon, lime, tangerine, or grapefruit oil in it.

We are eating more fruit when we get hungry. Bananas, apples, blueberries, raspberries, strawberries, and oranges. They are filling, nutritious, and provide fiber and energy.

Our pantry shelves are gradually getting filled with organic almond butter, raw honey, quinoa, organic coconut and flaxseed oil, protein bars, ground chia seeds, and hemp protein powder. 

We eat only "clean" meat. Organic turkey or chicken burger or home-processed venison is used for chili, goulash, or tacos.  Air-chilled organic chicken or salmon are our favorites in soups or stir-fry,
with lots of bok choy, broccoli, green beans, carrots, onion, mushrooms, and red pepper.

We sprinkle ground chia seeds on top for an extra boost of protein, antioxidants, calcium, and omega 3 fatty acids.

Cold winters days are spent reading about healthy living,
learning as much as we can...

with a bit of decorating thrown in for good measure, of course.

In my studio, standing in front of a favorite tiny painting from my dad...

I create more dream catchers,
while my husband putters away in his work room.

And as 2015 marches forward toward the promise of a healthy spring...

our goal for a natural, organic, holistic, healthy, healing way life blooms
in this old farmhouse.

Watercolor by my dad.

"You are the content of your character. 
You are the ambitions that drive you. 
You are the goals that you set. 
You are the things that you laugh at 
and the words that you say. 
You are the thoughts you think 
and the things you wonder. 
You are beautiful and desirable 
not for the clique you attend, 
but for the spark of life within you 
that compels you to make your life 
a full and meaningful one. 
You are beautiful not for the shape of the vessel,
but for the volume of the soul it carries.”
~author unknown

By the grace of God, we strive to carry our healthy souls forward in a full and meaningful life...
and share the goodness that we are blessed with.

We taste and see that God is good.


~  Eucharisteo  ~

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A Teardrop on Earth

 "A teardrop on earth summons the King of Heaven."


She knelt.

Bending over the earth.

Plunging her hands into the warm soil.

Digging.

Picking up the small rose bush,

she gently placed it in the hole and patted dirt around it.

She heard a small wren trill his sweet song nearby.

Her tears fell,

catching on the tender pink petals.

"This is for you, Dad....",

she whispered, her voice breaking.

Sobs escaped.

Her world had been turned upside down during the past week.

Careening crazily.

Toppling over.

 Dropping like a rock.

Emotions raw,
overwhelming,

shimmering on the surface of her broken soul.

Tears flowing easily at unexpected moments ~

dishing up ice cream...

mowing the yard...

shopping for groceries.

Memories of shared times with her beloved father.

♥

Sharp, painful memories of a sleepless night in a hospital room at his bedside.

Hearing labored breathing through the oxygen mask.

Holding his warm hand that clutched at hers.

Her head bowed in constant prayer.

Face wet with tears.

Heart beating wildly.

"Please, God. Not Dad...please don't take Dad from me."

Her gaze lifted, lingering out the window overlooking the sleeping city.

Lights bright.

Sky dark.

Streets empty.

Questions wrapped themselves tightly around her mind.

Heavy.

Strangling.

Tired eyes stinging with more tears.

 Two days, they had said.

He would pass in two days.

She gripped his hand tighter,

planting a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"I love you, Dad", she whispered in his ear,

not knowing if he could hear her voice or not.

"I love you with all my heart."

She focused on his face,

etching it into her heart.

She studied his hands.

Her father's hands.

Strong, steady, caring, hands.

The bracelet around his wrist imprinted with "Integrity".

His life had been filled to the brim with it.

Generous.

Determined.

Caring.

Humorous.

Faithful.

Devoted.

Loving.

Christ's love moving him to extremes. 

His love the first and last word in everything he did.

Giving freely and asking nothing in return.

♥

She stood,

brushing the garden dirt from her hands and picking up the old watering can.

Water flowed

mingling with yet more tears.

 Her vision blurred as she dropped to her knees again in despair.

Sobs freely breaking through and cutting into the air.

Hands clutching her knees,

rocking.

 She watered the rose with her pain now.

As she lifted her head,

her watery eyes searched the clear blue sky for comfort from Heaven,

her father's favorite scripture bloomed suddenly deep inside her.

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God."

  

Heaven had been made real for him.

The heaven he read about and spoke about so many times.

She knew he was now kneeling at the throne of God,

lifting his hands in praise.

She lifted her hands, too,

feeling the warmth of the sun on her dirty palms.
Offering up a broken heart.

The wren trilled.

 The sun shined.

The rose grew. 

Tears fell.

Her love bloomed,
and her faith remained steady. 

"I miss you so much, Dad.
I will always love you..."

~  Eucharisteo  ~

 

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Tying Love Around My Heart

The weather men say warm temps are finally on the way.

We smile at the prediction.

And God blesses us with a warm, sunny Easter weekend

filled with friends, family, and flowers.

A trip to the city to celebrate my mother's 81st birthday ~

unaware....or aware...it was a special day for her.

My dad wanted us to gather as a family,

and we did.

Seven of us ~ husband, wife, brother, sister, nephew, and niece ~

embracing love in the room. 

Bittersweet smiles.

Quiet laughter.

Warm hugs.

Kisses land on soft, wrinkled cheeks.

 

I tie that love in a bow around my heart during the next day

as I travel to the garden center.

Reveling in the warm springtime air blowing my hair in my face.

"When peace like a river...." weaving softly out of the radio.

 Closing my eyes in the midst of the sweet, earthy fragrance of watered soil

and blooming flowers...

I stand in the middle of the greenhouse.

Inhaling deeply.

Smiling.

Joy.

Sinking hands deep into the warm soil.

Dark chocolate cake between my fingers.

Petals soft in my hands.

Warm breeze cooling a sweating brow.

As my hands cup young flowers,

my mind wanders to the mature gardens of last summer.

My heart waits.

Anxious.

Ready to clip and carry armfuls of peonies and roses inside once again...

June 2013

Ready to settle a tired, happy, body on the front porch swing.

Our front porch featured this month in the premier issue of Flea Market Outdoor magazine.

Photo credit: Mark Lohman

Maintaining my grateful gaze on God.

Tying more love around my heart,

and thanking him for sweet spring weather. 

~  Eucharisteo  ~

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Vintage Paintings

While scrounging around in the my basement recently,

I came across a few paintings stacked in a corner
that I had somehow forgotten about over the years.

As I sorted through them,
I found myself smiling at the sweet memories they evoked in my heart.

This painting that was given to me a long time ago by someone who was going to toss it.
I grabbed it and stuffed it in my car.

I loved this tranquil scene with its soft edges and quiet feel.

I temporarily propped it in front of the large mirror on top of the bookcases in my studio

next to the vintage hatbox that my friend, Randi, gave me (top hatbox).

[I wallpapered the hatbox in a pretty blue floral print.]

Another painting that I rescued from the abyss in my basement was one that was created by my great grandmother, Grace Whitman.

It's approximately 60 years old.
(I think she may have had a bit of bohemian hippy in her sweet old soul.)

I always loved Grandma's name.

After some ancestory research many years ago,

it was discovered that I am related to Walt Whitman.

How cool is that?

Maybe that's where my love of writing, photography, and nature is rooted.

Three generations of my father's side of the family dabbled in painting on canvas.

My great-grandmother, Grace,

my grandmother, Lorena,

and my father, Gordon.

My Dad even helped my Mom paint a still-life once.
Dad painted his first and Mom loved it so much,
she wanted to try to make one.

I can vividly remember him sitting by her side at the kitchen table
evening after evening,
guiding her hand and patiently teaching her some basics of oil painting.

Of all the paintings I have, I treasure these two the most.
The one he painted is the smaller one on the right.
Mom's is the larger one on the left.

I feel blessed to own paintings from each of them.

This beautiful rose painting was originally purchased at the big Brimfield Flea Market,
found a temporary home with Stephanie Bradley,
and landed a forever home at Heaven's Walk.

Thank you, my sweet friend!

The blush pink rose painting on the right was purchased for a song at the Allegan Antique Market last summer. I couldn't pass up the soft pastel colors.

It's almost like a garden is blooming on the frantle in my kitchen.
The tangled prairie hearts I made lay scattered like silver petals...

"Little Girl Sitting" was painted by my father over 45 years ago

when he was a rookie student in his first painting class.

It's one of the largest of the paintings he created.

When I was just a child, I remember him saying that it reminded him of me.
It used to hang in the entry foyer of my childhood home.

"Be The Light" was another one of his creations.

I always loved this painting because of the beautiful shades of blues.

It was the main reason why I ended up getting married on the beach in front of a lighthouse in northern Michigan 29 years ago.

I also fell in love with coastal Maine when I attended a friend's wedding out there one summer,
where the Husband and I stayed in a bed & breakfast inn on the coast
and fell asleep each night to the sound of frothy blue waves crashing on the rocky shore.

History...

 memories...

and evidence of God-given talent

surrounds me in my studio.

It feels like great-Grandma Grace,

Grandma Lorena,

my mom and my dad

are right here with me.

Love poured onto canvas.

I can almost see them all smiling

as I work with my hands.
And  although I never quite captured an interest in painting on canvas,
I pour my own love into creating my dream catchers and rosaries.

"The most wonderful moment of the day is that when creation in its innocence asks permission to "be" once again, 
as it did on the first morning that ever was."
~Thomas Merton, 'A Book of Hours'

~ "Be" the Blessing ~

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Thank you all for your continued support, encouragement, and love!

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House of Love

I lean over her aging face ~

upside down ~

and kiss her soft cheek.

She is lying diagonally across a hospital bed in her bedroom.

The bucket of water and pitcher sit next to my Dad's bed.

Towels, shampoo and conditioner lay on it.

I dip the pitcher into the warm water and as Dad sit on the bed and tenderly supports her,

the water pours over her head and splashes into the large bin in front of me,

wetting the fine, thin white hair.

Fragrant suds of tea tree oil and peppermint fill the room

She closes her eyes and relaxes.

Massaging the scented suds out and rubbing the lemon-sage conditioner in.

I talk softly of no-nonsense things.

I reminisce of days long ago...

of her washing my long, blond hair in the kitchen sink when I was a little girl.

There was lemon-scented shampoo back then, too. 

I watch Dad gazing at her face as I wrap her head in a towel.

Classical music swirls around the room from the bedside radio.

It's a an hour in my life that I treasure each week.

The hairdryer blows warm air as I create soft waves in her hair with a round brush.

She still has beautifully silky hair,

although it is much thinner now.

Pink scalp showing through the snow white.

Her eyes are closed once again

as she tolerates my fussy brushing,

teasing, and hairspraying.

Tucking her layered strands behind her ears,

she looks like she used to before her dementia diagnosis and stroke...

if only for a moment. 

♥

I hear Dad in the bathroom rinsing out the tubs and hanging up towels

as I set a small square bucket on her lap.

Soapy water sloshes back and forth and I ask her to put her hands in it.

She opens her eyes and looks blankly at me,

but her hands attempt to move into the warm water.

I wash her hands and scrub her nails,

encouraging her to play in the water a bit.

Her pale fingers move back and forth as she holds my face steadily in her gaze.

"Does that feel nice, Mom?", I ask.

Her head nods ever so slightly.

Source

I dry those aged hands.

Hands that have held me,

touched my face in love,

and waved goodbye to me.

Hands that I've seen clutched tightly in pain

time and time again.

And then opened in relief.

♥

I pick up the nail file to file her nails short.

Hands....wrinkled.

Skin....thin.

But so soft to the touch.

Toenails are next and more difficult.

Her toes are curled under and crooked.

I tuck her into bed for an afternoon nap.

She's exhausted.

She looks beautiful to me laying there on the blue sheets.

♥

Piano music floats softly from the room next door.

Dad is playing his cherished piano now.

Source

I smile.

A self-taught pianist.

A handwritten list of hymns propped up before him on a pad of lined paper.

He doesn't know how to read music.

He plays from memory.

Trial and error.

His wish is to someday sit at the big organ in his church

and attempt to play something.....anything.

Fear and uncertainty hold him back.

But a maestro when caring for his beloved wife.

♥

I stand in the hallway between the two rooms.

Mom sleeping peacefully in one.

Dad praising God in the other.

Love has filled the house.

It is palpable.

I embrace it

and 

tuck it into my heart.

~ Blessings  ~

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