Field of Daisies

A Little About Me... (Part 1)

A couple of years ago I sat down with my laptop and asked myself a few questions, like, "Who am I?" and "What's important to me?" Following is the result of that introspection. It's a bit lengthy, but perhaps there is some value in it...?

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I call butterflies "flutterbies." (They have nothing to do with "butter"; they "flutter by"....) I like to drink orange juice from a fancy crystal wine glass. I like Belgian waffles for breakfast, topped with fresh bananas and strawberries (and syrup, of course!) served on pretty dishes with a cloth napkin. I enjoy coffee in the morning and sometimes at night with something sweet.

I love springtime, but fall is my favorite. I love crisp autumn mornings when I can see the steam rising off my cup of coffee--when I need that cup of coffee as much to warm my hands as to get me going. When the leaves are still clinging to the trees in clumps of yellow and orange and red. I love walking through brown, crispy leaves strewn about everywhere; leaves that make their own unique melody orchestrated by a playful breeze or a pair of children making the most of a noisy opportunity.

I'd rather be cold than hot.

I love Colorado! Cooler temperatures without humidity! (I hate humidity.) Huge, rocky, tree-covered, snow-capped mountains... A sky so blue it looks like a touched-up photograph. Waterfalls cascading down the mountains, spilling over rocks, gurgling and laughing and creating rapids when they reach more level ground. God's fingerprints everywhere.... I love the way it causes me to be in awe of Him--appreciating the beauty He created there--while at the same time causing me to fear Him a little bit more....

I love jacket weather... Snuggly warm sweaters, thick socks, and boots of all kinds... I love wrapping up in a quilt on the patio or front porch, breathing in the cool air that signals the end of a long hot summer. It creates an excitement in me the same way it did when I was a child... Anticipation of autumn...!

I love getting up before sunrise early in autumn and watching the wispy, thin clouds of morning change from dark purple to blue to orange to pink before plumping up and turning white against a pale sky.... I love sunsets, as the sun sinks low in the sky and the pastel-colored clouds of early morning return to tuck in the sun at bedtime after a long and productive day.

I love when it begins to snow; those huge silent snowflakes that float effortlessly down from who-knows-where. If I listen closely enough, I can hear the faintest sound of the flakes landing safely on the trees and bushes. So quiet. So peaceful. There's no wind, just a gentle breeze at most, helping those snowflakes along their way. There is something holy, something awe-inspiring in that.

I love fresh fallen snow that hasn't been trampled upon. A fluffy white blanket that snuggles up close to the earth and anything that will stay still on a cold, wintry day; snow that sparkles magically in the winter sunshine without melting away, promising hours of fun for anyone who will don their hats and coats and boots and mittens, accepting the invitation to come and play.

I love watching my children play in the snow--building a snowman, throwing snowballs, or sledding down long, steep hills, shrieking and giggling the whole way. I love sledding down those hills with them--shrieking and giggling the whole way!

I love making steaming hot cocoa with marshmallows melting on top, to defrost the red, runny noses of those who have been playing out in the snow.

I love thunderstorms. They remind me of the awesome power of our God as the lightning reaches out its hand and snaps its brilliant bony fingers against a black night. And the booming, rumbling, tumbling thunder reminds me that God's voice is not to be ignored, but heeded.

I love rainy days. I love the sound of driving rain against the windowpane, or the softer, subtler pitter-patter of a slow, soaking rain. Rainy days affect me in a special way... I can sympathize with creation on those days... There have been many days in my own life when my tears have spilled over in torrents of hurt and anger and pain, and other days when they have fallen quietly in deep, lingering sorrow....

I love antiques. Rusty, worn, frayed treasures of the past... Hand-painted Bavarian plates, rose-covered teapots, delicate china tea cups and saucers, dainty hankies and high-top lace-up boots worn by those brave women of the Victorian era... They were women of tradition and style even in the face of daunting adversities--like childbirth without anesthetics, and steamy summers in corsets and layers of clothes without air conditioning! Living in a time when women were second-class citizens without a voice or a vote, without rights of their own apart from their husbands'; when simple diseases stole the lives of their children and cruel wars stole the lives of their men... A time when children and respect were natural bedfellows. When a boy's greatest hero was his father, and a girl's closest friend her mother.

I love things that remind me how far we have come and in such a short time. Things that were commonplace in my parents' lives when they were children, but that are obsolete, even archaic now. Things that represent a simpler time... Simpler, but so much harder in so many ways.... When a man made his own tools and butchered his own livestock. When a woman baked fresh bread every day and canned fresh vegetables from her own garden. When dusty jars of home-canned peaches and green beans lined the rough-hewn hand-made shelves in the cool, damp cavern beneath the house--the primitive basement dug out of the ground by the same calloused hands that folded in reverence to Almighty God at the dinner table to say "grace."

I love musty-smelling books with yellowed pages and ornate bindings. Books whose pages have been dog-eared and written on by those interested or entertained or inspired by their words and thoughts and revelations. I love opening an old book and seeing someone's name written in flawless cursive inside the front cover. I love wondering about that person, what they were like, when they lived, if they're living still...and how that particular book affected their life....

I love romantic things.

I love hardwood floors and floral wallpaper; stripes and plaids and flowers that coordinate and compliment one another. I love lots of windows and natural light, wood shutters and canopy beds that you have to climb up to get into.... I love wrap-around porches decorated with wooden rockers and trellises and railings covered with climbing roses or sweet-smelling honeysuckle. I love swinging in our porch swing.

I love to write. I love to read a good book. I love the Bible. It is my source for strength and courage, and a viable connection with my Father in heaven. I love singing praises to God. I love worshiping Him both alone and with others. I love those times when I tangibly sense His presence....

I love the sweet giggles of my children. I love snuggle times with Jenna in the morning in her bed, and with Zach in the big chair or in his bed at night. I love connecting with them. I love watching from a distance when Joel is being "exceptional" with the kids... When he is connecting with them in a loving way....

I love staying in bed-and-breakfasts. I love traveling and experiencing new places.

I love when the house is quiet and everyone is asleep--or out for a few hours....

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There is more to this story, but you'll have to come back tomorrow to read it!