What is Heaven's favorite color?

                        Oh, what do you do in the wintertime, when all the world is white?  

We learned on Sunday about a little girl who shared her thoughts about going special places where people have the same color clothing, 

                    

when asked about the reason that the clothing is white, she answered, 

because it is God’s favorite color!

                        

   What is your favorite color?  

When asked the reason our mother likes to wear blue, her answer has been, 

“It is the color of your father’s eyes!” 

So is the sky. 

Only the clouds can change and cause gasps of delight or surprise at day’s beginning or end. 

Another color we are learning to love in our family games is Azul.  

Yes, the color blue.  

And an eldest son in a family nearby has quite the talent to come out on top. 

                      

Especially when birthdays bring you to the moon and back!  

Days off can be a treasure to grandparents! 

Speaking of developing talent and celebrating success, we joy that a Washington grandson  recently recorded a personal best on his cross country team, which his younger sister joined (hoorah!) and a cousin further north traveled to State with her high school team, which took first place. 

 Winning can be amazing.  Being part of a team can be even better.  Violin. Flute. Theatre. Chorus.

This season, does it not feel good to step as a team?

                                      

To share teams past? 

To inspire teams present?  

To create, as a team?

Which may include gathering loved ones

or meeting cousins, extended family branches, in tender mercy moments 

Beginnings, during these past weeks include a few lovely repairs.  One of us (may or not be confessing culpability) decided to clear out the P trap in the main bathroom sink.  So great, it is to have clear pipes!  Lesson learned:  Returning the pipes to original position can be a tiny bit tricky.  As are a few other things in our lives!  We learn from  Henry’s Awful Mistake,  that some things are okay to ignore. 

 Grateful we are, for repairs, a new plumbing valve and extra water pressure for night time showers.  Thanks, Val, and Mr. Smedley!

Speaking of pipes, this Saturday, after waking to our first “winter wonderland” blanket of white, a couple of grandchildren  drove with me 30 minutes to an organ workshop and were encouraged by some professional and accomplished organists and teachers in marking pedals, creating a homemade “king of instruments” from scratch, and choosing to “up their game” by paying the price of practicing.  Practicing offers rewards of lifting hearts.

                                          

And singing with a workshop group of seven or eight dozen atop support of organ at full stop brought out voices and unexpected Spirit.  A yearning to "up our game" and personal best.  

During the "linger longer" meal, we learned that one of the participants is a cousin to Grandma Pearl.  Not everyone can claim having grown up on Canyon Road in Paris (Idaho!)

Before the snowflakes came, a granddaughter planted pansies in our front gardens overlooked before casting aside extra crutches.

                                          

Looking out upon bright yellow faces can gladden a heart.

   With a little voice to remind me, "Grandma, have you prayed about your lost earphones?"  Opening eyes, my sight went straight to the missing cords.  Similarly, when that very granddaughter hunted and hunted to find lost wages which she carefully had tucked into a stocking inside two tiny purse zippers. Bemoaning her loss, she told her grandma and again, gaze was drawn directly, and the lost was found. 

 Not every loss is solved as simply as plugged pipes and puckered purse strings, but regardless the outcome, somehow dilemmas are deemed a bit more doable when coupled with divine direction. 

 A visiting friend shared a Bible verse about hope Romans 5:3-5 … We glory in tribulations … knowing that tribulation worketh patience; 4 And patience, experience; and experience, hope.  

Another verse reminds me of the “hooks” taught in the organ workshop, where your foot finds a sure place (to avoid annoyed elephants that can sometimes seem to bellow from pedal pipes)   

Hebrews 6:19 speaks of hope as  an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast.  

We are hoping you are finding colors in your daily walk. 

                                                 

Our neighbor, suggesting Chi Gong, is confident that a deep belly laugh before bed enhances rest.  

                    

May we each encounter a lifting of the corners of our lips (even a pencil between the teeth can help!)  Ask a good friend.  A neighbor.  A granddaughter.  Or get good at prayer (or putting things back) so  perhaps we can find a pencil!  

Our neighbor organ teacher taught that music becomes powerful when we attend to the rests.  

  May you ever obey your rests!  

Happy November!  Grateful, are we for friends who lift the corners of our lips! 

  Love, Laurene and Val

                                 

How is your harvest?  Thank you for joining in ours! 

 

"Do the Hokey Pokey and Turn Yourself Around!" (Crossing Oahu by Crook or by Crutch!)

This past week marks 31 years of a wonderful connection. Tuesday Val and I knelt at an altar in Ogden, Utah surrounded by smiling faces and mirrors reflecting visions of generations before and generations yet to come and remembered promises that we made at that time and continue to renew.  Promises to (and from) God and one another.  

On that bright morning in Seattle, following encouragement of practical parents, we invited no one.  My parents were there.  A 13-year-old sister, who tended our little ones, a kindergarten-age and toddler daughter, all met us afterwards in lavender dresses.   (Interestingly, my neighboring congregation from the Tri-Cities were attending that day and many came!)

 

Months prior to this occasion, Val and I had driven to Central Wyoming to spend a few days with my father's parents, Pearl and Ivin Gee, who charmed Val with their whole grain cereal with dried dates and stories of faraway journeys to serve. One of those journeys included service in "the isles of the sea," with their station being a thatched roof chapel at the Polynesian Cultural Center in Laie, Hawaii.

Before our mission to California, Val had invited us to travel there. Think of the response: “Now? The expense! The time away!  Surely another season would offer better conditions!”  Seven years following, Val's sister called us with a kind offer to share some points from her vacation rental with us. "Why not now?" It was June. We plunged.  With Val's stroke recovery and our mothers not getting younger, I closed my eyes and secured the airline seats and tickets for a luau. We called friends who love this island and marched forward…  (Until some of us started marching with crutches. And a walker.  And then struggled to watch as a beloved mother was hospitalized a few days prior to our planned departure.)

An older brother called from China: "You need to still go." (But how? The day prior to takeoff, we were searching to find a rehabilitation facility, working to collect and do all the things required to ease mom's transition to receive adequate care.)  Brothers, friends, and neighbors stepped forward, meeting us when and where we could help no further. We were reminded of angels unaware -- stories of ancestors pushing handcarts over snowy mountainous Wyoming trails, hungry and barefoot struggling with wind, storm, and desperate fatigue, when they told of times that they felt the handcart pushing them! (See footnote 9)

Hawaii happened, thanks to helpers on the right hand and the left. (And a Boeing 767 jet, which a sweet husband spent much of his career working on, but had never before ridden!)

 Wandering between waterfalls, flora, fauna, 

beaches,

 waves, 

mountains, 

glorious sunsets, 

and a few bites of Hawaii,

I was inspired by Grandma Pearl’s letters of 40 years ago that helped us to view the island through eyes of an Idaho-raised, central Wyoming second grade teacher and meteorologist, the blessing of nations from isles of the sea in harmony, celebrating in a “breath of life” (or “Ha!” show) depiction in dance celebrating the birth of a beloved child into a family, watching his growth and journey among nation islands, concluding with spectacular fire dancing. 

While Grandpa’s brothers taught at BYU Hawaii, Grandpa and Grandma enjoyed, as did we, a smattering of peoples from every land.  We spoke with individuals from New York City to Nova Scotia, Ukraine, Australia and Japan.

  

Val’s joy our final day came in finding a librarian at a Honolulu Library teach us ways (through ChrononiclingAmerica.loc.gov) to find newspaper information for a deceased uncle who died in Hawaii in 1885 after serving in the Civil War.  Try it!  You might be surprised what you can find!  

A January article quoting an art magazine suggested that some things are better done at a slower pace,

 which happens with wheel chairs, walkers, crutches and crawling carefully on rocks and sand.  Our hearts have been turned. And we are learning to turn ourselves around, as we navigate change and watch our wonderful fall leaves exemplify brilliance in the bearing news of coming goodness.  

Thank you, each, for beautiful choices in doing just that! 

Much love! Laurene and Val

A postscript came today with a call from my mother's brother letting us hear that Aunt Arlene was visited by a wonderful close son, coming to pick her up for a regular temple appointment and learned that she is keeping another appointment, with others beyond the veil.  Our condolences and interest and love are extended to cousins and other family.  

I stayed with this beloved sister to Mom between moves when I had my first daughter.  Arlene loved us each like her own.  My wish and hope is to carry the spunk and determination of this delightful woman throughout my days -- to have courage to camp at age 88, dance and diligently don scriptures at the break of dawn until it is my time to greet the Author!

We love Aunt Arlene.  We appreciate the concentric connecting circles of cousins from her limb of her fruitful branch.  We pray that the sparkle of such a smile can continue to brighten all those that choose to walk in the wake of her love.  And we trust in words of comfort: "Blessed are they that mourn!"

Sincerely, Your Cousin Laurene