All nature sings and round me rings the music of the spheres!

Dear God,

       Thank you for the sighing sound that wind makes in trees at night. Thank you for the sound of children plinking and plunking on piano keys. Thanks for the sound of wind chimes. Thank you for the noise of voices when friends are together. 

       Thanks for the thrumming sound of cicadas in summer heat. Thanks for the songs of tree frogs in a rainy spring time. Thanks for the voice of someone who has been away returning through my back door. Thank you for the patter of rain on the roof. Thanks for children's voices. 

       Thank you for the majestic swell of orchestra music. Thanks for the soft strumming of guitar, the sweet trill of flute, the staccato beat of drums. Thank you for the tick of my clock, for the sound of a friend knocking, a phone ringing, my mother calling my name. 

       Thanks for children's voices singing in Christmas programs, for the note of happiness in Grandma's voice, for the crack of a voice  steeped in emotion. Thanks for songs of birds in the trees outside my window. Thanks for the sound of cows mooing on your hills, of cat's purring, of horses's neighing, and dog's barking.

        Thanks for the crackling of a fire in the woodstove on a cold winter's morning. Thank you for the swish of a fan on a warm day and the steady purr of an air conditioner on a hot August noon.

        Thanks for the melodic sound of water flowing over rocks in a stream. The splash of water where kids are swimming, the lap of water on the lake shore, the roar of ocean breakers. Thanks for wind in pine trees and the rustle of a breeze in the cottonwoods. 

        Thanks for the whir of a sewing machine, the burrrr of my mixer, the hum of insects in the garden. Thanks for the sizzling sound of meat cooking, the chopping chip of vegetables being cut up, the ruffling sound of book's pages being turned.

        Thanks for the sounds of each day. Thanks for music and voices and whistlings. Thanks for rhythms and rhymes, for cadence and melody. Thanks for birdsong, trumpet blasts, bells ringing, for trains in the night, and the sound of an "I love you" from my husband, my teenager, my grandchild, or my friend. 

        Thank you, Lord, for your voice. Not in the storm, not in the crashing of war, not in the roiling sea, but the still small voice you speak to me with. Thank you.

Love you, Elece

Dear Jesus,

Thanks so much for the chance to come to Michigan this winter to care for my ailing parents. I look out at the falling snow or the sunshine shining on the sparkling snow and my heart is filled with joy for the beauty of it all. I know you are in control and that you have been all along.

It has been hard facing the prospect of my folks aging. It has been hard knowing Dad has cancer and that I might soon have to give him up. I seem to remember Dad best when he was about thirty-five. Such a happy good man. Such a special dad. All my friends were always jealous and many of them liked to call him Dad. He is certainly a treasure.

Mama is a treasure too, although she has been sick for so long, many of her thirty-four grandchildren have never known her any other way. They don't remember what I do about her; how creative and skilled she was, how outgoing and strong and good. She is a mother that many would have gladly claimed because of her personality (and her beauty besides).

Thanks for placing me in this family, God. And thanks for the blessing of two great parents who always taught us to look up to you and to serve you for the joy and peace that you give.

Thanks for letting me be here with them, Lord. Help me to be the daughter they need. Help me to bless them in every way I can in these few days. Help me to treat them like I would treat you if I had the opportunity.

Love you,
Elece

Dear Dad,

I remember that day at the fair when I was only five-years-old. I lost you and panicked and ran to catch up and grab your hand. Imagine my fright to realize I had chosen the wrong hand! I knew how your hand felt and knew I had erred. Soon I found you and the comfort of your hand holding mine has stayed with me all my life. How I wish I could hold your hand now.

It is hard to be so far away and think of you lying in a hospital bed with a broken leg, a new mechanical hip joint, and doctors probing and testing you for cancer. I am afraid for you, afraid for us. We need you. I need you. I need to feel your hand and know all is well. The universe seems to jump a gear and run haywire sometimes. I feel now just the way I felt that day at the fair when the wrong hand's face leaned over to me and said, "I bet you think I'm your daddy, don't you, little girl?"

I'll be coming up soon to take care of you and Mama for a few weeks. It will be so good to sit near you and talk to you. It will be good to touch your hands and know it is you and you are getting stronger and soon will be working again, carrying in firewood and building a fire, pouring a cup of coffee, wielding a pen over a crossword puzzle, lacing your work boots, shoveling snow, planting your garden, greeting a friend with a handshake, tousling a grandchild's hair.

I see that day. I know it will come soon and I will be comforted even though my own hands should be the ones doing the comforting this time. I think I will always need you, Daddy.

Love you,
Elece

Winds of Change

Winds of Change

 By Elece Hollis

Sun slants into my room, making light places on the floor,

 on the furniture, but no warm places.

It is a winter sun,

 nearly an hour late,

likely to be gone by early afternoon.

The sky is clear, a slate gray, the trees bare and dark

 against it. The hummingbirds are gone,

 moved south to places where flowers still bloom.

Crows caw at the leaden sky,

arguing among themselves.

There is no garden left for them to plunder.

The first frost has blackened it,

 the cold winds of October have dried it. We have pulled up the tomato stakes and mowed.

I am glad to live in a place

 with a definite change of seasons! It is a great joy

 to see the first signs of spring poking

 green spears from the earth.

Then after a long summer of simmering heat

 and vibrant green growing,

it comes as a relief to feel cooler shorter days of autumn

 with brown leaves falling.

 It refreshes and heals to have a winter of cold and snow following. Father God, I do need change.

 Help me to explore and enjoy all the seasons of my life.

 Teach me to accept and learn to love change in all the activities, callings and

the structures of my days.

Let There Still Be Roses

 Dear Jesus,

 I read in Isaiah 55 these words:

 "So you will go out with joy, 

and be led forth in peace. 

The mountains and the hills will burst into singing before you 

and all the trees of the fields will clap their hands.

Large cypress trees will grow where thornbushes were.

 Myrtle trees will grow where weeds were.

 These things will be a reminder of the Lord's promise,

and this reminder will never be destroyed."

 I love roses on their thorny bushes. 

I love roses and can't think that heaven on earth could lack them.

 Oh, Jesus.......

Oh, please, Lord say there will still be roses!

Letter to My Heart

Dear Heart,

Hasn't it been a summer to remember? Through personal counseling you have come to understand yourself better and learned secrets to growing closer to family members while maintaining boundaries. Through marriage counseling, you and Ron have grown closer as you learned to overcome communication roadblocks. Through nature you have grown closer to God and learned to accept and appreciate who you are.

You have learned some patience through trials. You have gained some wisdom through reading the Bible. You have studied and educated yourself on some subjects that can make you a happier, fulfilled person. The use of a camera has opened up a new adventure, a new way of looking at things, a new appreciation of the world around you.

Watching your granddaughter, Madison, be born and welcomed into the world by a her family worked something golden into your spirit, like a glimpse of some treasure too beautiful to describe, one that makes your tongue go still and your heart ponder.

The trip with friends and family to Kentucky made you realize God's unquenchable love for you and that He longs to have you walk closer and serve together with Him to reach the coming generations with the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Giving up your grip of motherhood on your daughter as she left the States was a trial, a pain-filled trial, but one that can build a stronger reliance on your husband and a stronger faith in God.

Yes, it has been a summer to remember, a summer of growth and change, a summer of God working in you to carry out His plans for you. Remember that.

Love you,
Elece

His Mercy

Dear God,

Here we are seeking Your face; asking for Your Answer. Give us mercy. It is the one thing we know to ask for. Here we are and we admit that we don't know the answer for this situation and so we pray for mercy.

Grandma Helen signed a "living will," but did she know then the value of her life today? Everyone who knows and loves her considers her precious and valuable even in her condition. We vacillate. We want her to stay with us. We don't want to lose her, but we think it would be better for her to die today and come home to You, Lord. It seems the best for her not to suffer, for her not to be consigned to a bed the rest of her days, unable to open her eyes, unable to speak, unable to eat.

But we are only human and we make such decisions while only able to see one side of eternity and that not clearly. We make such calls in fear of the fate of all men; in fear of the human condition that You wrote to us about in the Bible. That fear of having to be tended in our old age. Fear that others will come to feed us and dress us and take us where we don't know and where we don't want to go--a second infanthood.

Does going there or being there change the perspective enough to contradict it? Does Grandma now want to stay alive?

We are fools, Lord. We don't know. We can't judge.

Your mercy endures forever. It is best that You decide these things, that You allow our emotional convulsions to hold no sway in this situation.

We don't know what to ask for her, God. So, we ask for mercy; not for mercy as we define it, but for mercy as You, Lord, know it.

Amen and Amen

Love you,
Elece


Note to readers: Grandma Helen died peacefully in a hospice in Rogers, Arkansas one month after her collapse as a result of a brain aneurysm. She died with her family around her and just after Joseph had visited with her. God knows best. Bless His holy name.


Isaiah 57:1-2 says: Those who are right with God may die, but no one pays attention. Good people are taken away, but no one understands. Those who do right are being taken away from evil and are given peace. Those who live as God wants find rest in death.