Between euphoria and sorrow . . .

I haven’t updated this page for over a month, and I think that’s the longest absence I’ve had since beginning Northern Reflections in Autumn of 2008.  Even after surgery and during hospital sojourns I’ve managed to plug in and let readers know that Joe and I are still on the planet.  Why the truancy?  Perhaps for the only time since I began writing at age 9, I simply could not decide what to write.  No, it wasn’t writers’ block.  I couldn’t decide what to write because for weeks I’ve been caught in a wedge between euphoria over this wonderful season, and my ongoing sorrow over the incredibly horrible daily news.

How could I blither on about herbs and perennials when confronted with images of a couple of brothers who blew up the Boston Marathon?  How could I keep posting photos of knitted shawls and hats when we have a president who refuses to admit he was wrong in trying to conceal the fact that the Benghazi disaster was indeed an act of international terrorism rather than a reaction to some stupid video—or for the fact that available aid was withheld from the embassy in Libya?  How can I wax euphoric over balmy days, when the IRS has reportedly targeted special interest groups including those containing the name “Israel”?  (If that isn’t a red flag, then what is?)  How can I write glowing paragraphs about how blessed my husband and I have been in nearly 60 years of marriage and family, when 3 young women in Ohio have suffered approximately 10 years of what amounts to as horrific an experience as many WW II concentration camp stories I’ve read about?

Thus the delay in refreshing Northern Reflections.  But today in church, I received a nudge.  When I get a nudge—this one was more like a hearty thump on the head—while sitting with my open Bible on my lap and listening to a straight arrow message from my straight arrow pastor, I can be reasonably sure that the thump is coming from the Indwelling Holy Spirit of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ!  Time to blog.

YES, life is beautiful.  My own personal life is amazingly beautiful, in every way!  (So what do orthopedic issues matter anyway, at age 79?  If I didn’t have them, I’d wonder if I were really alive!)  The Lord has poured His amazing grace upon our family.  The joy and contentment in my home defy description!  Each day I wake up excited to be alive while praying and deciding which of many creative options to pursue that day, if the Lord unravels the time for my creative options.  I always know that He may have other plans for me, and His will is always PERFECT. 

YES, the days are evil.  Human history is rampant with evil.  Only one sinless person has ever walked this earth, the Person of our Lord Jesus.  Yet in America the evil grows more blatant as time passes.  A cloud of widespread evil has shadowed our land in recent years, accelerating it seems since the Autumn 2012 election.  As we reap the bitter fruit of a godless culture, a nation in which God and the truths of Scripture have been discarded as “irrelevant”, we need more than ever to affirm the good, the beautiful, the blessed—while firmly proclaiming that the days are evil. 

Only PRAYER, PRAYER, PRAYER, can reverse America’s collision course.  While savoring the abundance God has provided for us and rejoicing in those freedoms we still have, we need to remember that the days are evil and we could lose all of our freedoms in a matter of weeks or even days.  I take seriously the Scriptural mandate to pray for our leaders.  Yet today in church, with the blog nudge I also received a nudge to ratchet up my prayers for our nation’s president.  

President Obama is AT BEST clueless and incompetent—or AT WORST downright evil!  Did he really find out about the IRS scandal at the same time the rest of us did, or is he lying?  God knows the answer; at this point we do not—at least I do not!  Yet like each one of us, President Obama is a person for whom Christ died to save. 

And if our president is either incompetent or evil (or both!), will “the other” major TV news networks have the honesty and courage to come forth with the unaltered facts?  So far, only one station is telling it like it is—while the others appear to be in a state of denial.  While the truth-telling network addresses the issues of Benghazi and the IRS as wrongs to be dealt with accordingly, the other stations simply cry “GOP Politicizing!”—as if confronting evil were a matter of politics rather than our God-given responsibility!

The evil in our land reflects the sad demise of salt and light in our nation’s churches, once known as “Christian”.  The objective fact of man’s sin and need for a Savior is (most thankfully) addressed in my church—but in countless assemblies that kind of straight arrow preaching has been deemed “political” (or objectionable, or unappealing, or whatever!) and therefore abandoned.  Yet we are still here.  We can pray that the Spirit of revival will sweep our land, bring us to our knees, and bring our churches back to God’s Word.

Here is the nudge, or thump, I received today:  Continue to PRAY, PRAY, PRAY!  Keep informed, keep talking, keep living the Christian life I’ve been given!  These are not optional—they are essential.  Meanwhile, keep blogging.  Keep broadcasting the fact that my life is good.  There is time and space on Northern Reflections for the urgent issues which confront us—and also for herbs, perennials, knitted garments, and my beautiful family!

Margaret L. Been, ©2012

Textiles: an international language

Years ago I heard a rumor inferring that when people grew older their world shrinks.  Praise God, that simply is not true for my husband and me.  We are forever delighted with the way our world is expanding, and how we are learning and growing in the process.

Thanks to WordPress, my blogs are spanning the globe and being accessed in countries on every continent plus a plethora of islands—some that I have to research on GOOGLE, to locate.  We have a Nigerian son-in-law, and come September we’ll have a Mexican grandson-in-law.  How wonderful is that!!!

I love all manner of textiles, and we have a few in our home which reflect expanding horizons.  From left to right, and positioned on a textile map of the British Isles (purchased locally a few years back when couch throws were the thing) are: 

1) A basket made in India, given to me by a friend who travels there yearly, containing my current knitting project—a shawl requiring many balls of yarn which are happy in the commodious basket;

2) An elegant sari, presented to me by our grandson, Adam, who spent time in India a few years back;

3) One of two table runners (which can double as shawls) from our Nigerian son-in-law, Sanmi.  These gorgeous runners are Ebira Cloth, of the Ebira Tribe—woven by women in Sanmi’s mother’s village (Okene, Kogi State, Nigeria);

4) A dresser scarf hand-embroidered in Yugoslavia—a gift from our son, Karl, who spent a summer there in the mid 1980s.

If only the history of arts and crafts—including textiles—could be the predominant story of world history, this earth would be a more beautiful place.  And someday our world will be more beautiful, when people from all nations gather in Jerusalem and sing praises to our Lord!

Margaret L. Been, ©2013

Note:  My project on the needles, tumbling from the India basket, is knitted from CASCADE® 220 Washable Wool—and it’s made in China.  That probably won’t surprise you! 

“They also serve . . . .”

A few weeks ago a kindred spirited friend, Shari—who loves many of the English poets whom I love—mentioned Milton’s sonnet On His Blindness.  I responded with a whopping “YES!”  I hadn’t read that sonnet for years, but I still recalled the poignant last line:  “They also serve who only stand and wait.”  I thanked Shari for the déjà vue, and that evening I located my beautiful antique volume of John Milton’s poems.  Here is the sonnet, followed by an explanation of why it has meant so much to me in recent weeks:

On His Blindness

When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodg’d with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide,
“Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?”
I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies: “God doth not need
Either man’s work or his own gifts: who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed
And post o’er land and ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait.”

John Milton

 

As many of you know, our daughter-in-law, Rosemary, is facing a stand off with breast cancer.  The first post-op reports were encouraging, but complications have been discovered and both chemo and radiation will be needed.  For certain, 15 years ago (and perhaps as recently as 6!) I would have been on a Denver-bound plane—probably more than one time, to help Rosemary, our son, Karl, and their family during the difficult days ahead.  Sometimes physical issues ramp up so gradually, I had to mentally pinch myself to realize that NO—I probably should no longer travel “to help out”.  

 

I cannot “Hoover” (as they say in England) my own carpets, let alone someone else’s.  Fatigue often renders me useless for purposes other than reading, blogging, knitting, writing letters, or painting after 6:00 p. m.  My 82 year old husband and I are so attached to each other that leaving him alone (even in the company of a sweet Pembroke Welsh corgi) might break my heart (or his, or both)! 

 

We have an amazingly energetic daughter, Debbie, who loves to travel, loves her brother and his family (just as I do), and is incredibly deft at helping most anyone, anywhere!  Debbie has already been to Denver once since Rosemary’s surgery 2 weeks ago, and may quite possibly return!  Thus the re-reading (again and again) of On His Blindness ministered powerfully to my soul which had been considerably troubled by the realization that I’d no longer be flying to Denver, to help out. 

 

“They also serve who only stand and wait.”  And while I stand (sit or lie down) and wait, I pray!  I’m quite certain that Milton did that as well! 

 

Margaret L. Been, ©2013

Poetry in Action

It’s NATIONAL POETRY MONTH, but since a picture is often worth a thousand words I think this photo is even better than a poem!  The sweeties are cousins:  not “kissing cousins” because they are 1st cousins rather than 2nd.  But they definitely are “cousins kissing“. 

From left to right we have 2 of our 16 great-grandchildren:  Mia Valentine and Carter Daane, ages 16 months and just 2 years old.  At this moment, Mia and Carter are the 2 youngest members of our family—with another little guy, Deacon Valentine, just a few days older than Carter.  But come June a new cousin will arrive, a little girl whose name is still a mystery to all but her parents.  The new little girl is our 14th grandchild. 

We have a lot of birthdays!  I thank the Lord every day, for my calendar with big squares!  As one friend commented upon seeing a picture of our family at a summer gathering:  “That’s not a family.  That’s a TRIBE. 

So Happy April, from THE TRIBE OF BEEN!

Margaret L. Been, 2013

Of interest:  here are the stats provided by WordPress, for countries and viewers of Northern Reflections in the last 30 days.  What an exciting way to “travel”! 

Country	Views
United States	668
Canada	58
Australia	28
Philippines	24
United Kingdom	15
Sweden	11
India	10
Indonesia	8
Republic of Korea	6
Switzerland	5
Germany	4
Thailand	4
France	4
Taiwan	4
Norway	3
Hungary	3
Spain	2
Ukraine	2
Singapore	2
Viet Nam	2
Saudi Arabia	2
Mexico	2
Pakistan	2
Brazil	2
Jordan	1
Colombia	1
Kenya	1
Mongolia	1
Nigeria	1
Slovenia	1
Serbia	1
Russian Federation	1

 

HE is RISEN!

Thanks to the countless friends who have prayed for Rosemary.  She is coming along, better each day—praise God!  MB

In celebration of our Risen Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, here is one of my all time favorite poems—also preempting April which is National Poetry Month! 

Pied Beauty 

 

Glory be to God for dappled things –

   For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;

      For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;

Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;

   Landscape plotted and pieced – fold, fallow, and plough;

      And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;

   Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)

      With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;

He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:

                                Praise him.

 

Gerard Manley Hopkins, 1844–1889

 

___________________________________________________________________

 

Have a blessed RESURRECTION DAY!!!

 

Margaret L. Been, 2013

 

Asking for prayer . . .

” . . . there should be no schism in the body, but the members should have the same care for one another.  And if one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; or if one member is honored, all the members rejoice with it.  Now you are the body of Christ, and members individually.”  I Corinthians 12:25-27  (NKJV)

Since I first wrote asking for prayer for our daughter-in-law, Rosemary (who recently had a double mastectomy plus the first stage of reconstruction), the future course of action has changed.  Whereas we were rejoicing over the fact that no cancer had been found in the lymph nodes, as of last week one small cancer cell has appeared.  Consequently, Rosemary will need both chemo and radiation. 

Although the post-op pain continues, it has somewhat eased.  But the new findings mean many more challenges for Rosemary, as she receives treatment.  Your prayers are always welcome.  Thank you so much!  You readers are appreciated more than I can express! 

Margaret L. Been, 2013

 

Yes, it’s really Spring!

I love “North”.  In fact, I titled the above recent painting “Boreal Twilight”.  But I know that “boreal” really refers to much further North—like areas where they have perhaps 5 hours of daylight in the Winter and a “midnight sun” in Summer.  I’ll settle for Wisconsin’s extremes, thank you! 

Meanwhile, those who have not always lived in Wisconsin, might not be able to track with me these days when I say (exuberantly!) “It’s Spring!”  That’s because they are apt to misconstrue the word “Spring” to mean flowers and rapidly rising temperatures.  They don’t realize that Spring is not a matter of weather, but rather it has to do with lengthening daylight. 

In our latitude, every January we pin our hearts to the rising and setting of the sun.  By the vernal equinox (which was March 20th this year) our hearts are fairly leaping because it’s finally Spring.  The sun knows, and so do we! 

Those who think Spring means “warm” can’t seem to equate a murky, cold wet day in March with the same euphoria I experience on such occasions.  These are the days when there’s an ever-so-slight warming—although one cannot feel it due to that damp Lake Michigan chill which, in our area, penetrates to our very bones.  But we natives know about the slight warming, and so do the returning bird migrations.  The migratory birds look for open water to access near their nesting sights.  Thus the March murk will undoubtedly result in some degree of melting in rivers and at the edges of our inland lakes.

We are surrounded by water in our neighborhood, and the return of birds—including waterfowl—is signature to our Spring rejoicing.  Canada Geese (the large ones which migrate; smaller varieties now stick around all winter, in melted industrial park ponds) may be the first we see in the sky.  Their welcoming chant is absolutely intoxicating.  Many “Vs” in the sky fly with an agenda—that of going further North, to nest in wild places such as we called “home” for years.  Others pause, to party in local ponds along the way.  The Geese feed in fields en route, so their lives do not necessarily depend on open water.

The Sandhill Cranes return early, with their muted, rolling ”Halloo, Halloo, Halloo” high in the sky.  This week we spotted a Crane in a near-by cornfield.  Cranes can feed on corn gleaned from last autumn’s harvest, and thus they can also afford to return early.

Later the Great Blue Herons will return.  We have many which fly over our park constantly, all Summer.  They must have fish on which to feed, so their rookeries are always located near rivers and lakes.  They are the noisy, squawky aviators—along with many varieties of ducks which return to open water.  Ducks either feed on fish or aquatic plants, depending on what kind of Ducks they are, so we’ll need to wait awhile to see them overhead.

Finally (now my “up-North” memories are kicking in) the Swans return.  We had Tundra Swans in our Northern bay every Spring—11 of them one memorable year.  Smaller swans have traditionally nested in a couple of our Southern Wisconsin county’s lakes.  But I recently heard that the DNR (Department of Natural Resources) put their formidable kabash on swans in one of our small lakes, because some of the songbirds were gone missing.  I appreciate the DNR when they try to recover wildlife from man’s damage—but will they ever learn to leave well enough alone when it comes to natural balance?  They always seem to have to get their sticky little paws into things.  Is this a power issue, or what?

So Spring has to do with the return of the birds, as well as the sun—something that Wisconsin natives understand.  And we know that premature warmth is seldom a good thing!  Last year we had a tragic Spring.  Temperatures warmed up too quickly.  March had nights above freezing, which meant that our maple syrup crop was almost nil.  The rising sap depends on days above 32° F, and nights well below.  Warm nights just won’t do.  So while some were rejoicing over a warm March, we natives knew that conditions did not bode well for maple syrup. 

Likewise, April of 2012 was almost like Summer.  We natives could not get overly excited, because we knew that the unseasonable warmth would spell trouble.  Accordingly, fruit and nut bearing trees blossomed way too soon, and inevitably a frost came along to zap the blossoms.  Result?  A dirth of fruit and nuts. 

I sorrowed over the fact that our park chestnut tree looked wimply all Summer (which was horrendously hot and dry) and did not yield any of those beautiful mahogany nuts which I love to find on the ground in Autumn.  Park authorities tended to sick trees with bags of moisture and tree food, so there is hope for my favorite park tree.  Time alone will tell.

Having said all of the above, I do have a concession to make.  I really am looking forward to warmer sun.  I have a penchant for dark skin, and last Summer with all the dry heat, I (or rather the sun) accomplished the best tan I’ve ever had in 79 years.  Now I admit that an older person who has spent a lifetime indulging in sun on skin will look quite wood grainy, and yes I do! 

Also an individual—if naturally a paled, Northern European skin type—may be subject to cancers from an overdose of sunbathing, and yes I am.  I’ve had several basil cells plus one malignant melanoma.  But to me, sunbathing is not a negotiable activity.  I will indulge in sunshine until I check out.  What the sun does for my soul far outweighs any damage it can do to my skin. 

So there it is.  Happy Spring—whatever that may mean to you!

P. S.  My “stats” page shows that today I’m getting a lot of visitors on this blog, from Australia!  Today there have been nearly 3 times more visits from Australia than from the USA!  And you are getting ready for winter!

Normally, the visitors add up in this order:  A lot from USA, Canada, UK, Australia, New Zealand, India, and Nigeria (partly due to the English language bond no doubt)—and less, but a substantial amount from nearly every country in the world.  It delights my heart to see Israel, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Afghanistan, South Africa, Estonia, Romania, Czech Republic, Ireland, Germany, France, Italy (Italian readers seem to love the knitting entries), various Caribbean Islands, and many other locales. 

All my life I’ve loved reading about far away places, but I never dreamed I’d someday be communicating with people from other lands.  This thrills me to pieces.  I consider myself a “citizen of the world”!

Back to Down Under.  If there is any place in the world that I’d love to visit before I check out, it would be Australia—plus New Zealand.  I LOVE SHEEP, and raised my own spinner’s flock for nearly 20 years.  I spin a lot of wool, and your Merino is the best!   But also, your history fascinates me.   And two of my favorite films are MAN FROM SNOWY RIVER AND RETURN TO SNOWY RIVER.  The scenery and the horses cause me to view these classics again and again. 

Greetings to my Down Under Mates, and Happy Winter to you!    MLB

Margaret L. Been, ©2013