WHAT TRUE LOVE LOOKS LIKE

I'd been sick all day. In fact, I'd been sick all week, and all month. Withdrawing cold turkey from fifteen years of valium use was knocking the breath right out of me. I'd never been this sick in my life. When I wasn't in bed I was in the bathroom. I went through three months of this. One morning at 3AM I headed to the bathroom. There, on hands and knees, my husband scrubbed the floor. He said it was the only time he could clean it without disturbing me. Those three months Jay did everything for me. Everything. Even if he had to get up at 3AM to do it.

He continues to love me in that deep and abiding way five years later. Last spring I made the mistake of eating too much fresh pineapple at a wedding in another town. On our way home the next morning my husband and I stopped at a thrift store where I lost all bowel control. I didn't make it to the bathroom in time so I was a mess. My husband insisted on coming into the restroom with me (it was a single stall room) so he could help me get out of my clothes, clean me up, and run to the car to get me a clean outfit. He also rinsed my soiled clothes in the sink. He did all this quickly, efficiently, and without complaint. His biggest concern was that I might be getting sick again, but I assured him it was just the pineapple I ate the night before. 

True love is not always best illustrated by flowers and candlelight, chocolates and poetry.  True love shows up especially brilliantly in illness and adversity.   I'm so blessed to have a husband who does not think it a burden to take care of me. In fact, he considers it a privilege. Perhaps it's because he's almost lost me twice that he holds to me so dearly. Whatever the reason, this anniversary I'm grateful for 23 years with such a man in my life.

Jay & I in August, 2013

MY VETRAN'S DAY HERO

My dad was born March 10, 1923 on a farm in rural Montana with eight brothers and sisters during the Great Depression. At 15 (1938) he worked in a CCC camp because there was no food or jobs at home. At 17 years my dad lied about his age in order to get into the U.S. Army Air Corp to fight in World War II. (After 1942 it would be called the Air Force.) It was his dream to get out of Montana, and fly in a plane. On his test flight he puked his guts out, but begged the officer to let him stay in the Air Corp which he did. My dad would fly 30 missions over Nazi occupied territory as a tail-gunner in the famous B-24's. Stephen E. Ambrose wrote an excellent book called, "The Wild Blue" which is about the men and boys who flew these “tin coffins” over enemy occupied territory. 

Because of the poverty he experienced in his youth my dad seldom took things for granted, either material possessions or relationships. He always appreciated a good meal, a roof over his head and the few clothes he owned. He married my mother at the age of 30, and had his three girls relatively late in life. Which made his family all the more important to my dad. He loved his family above all else although he never expressed that love with hugs and kisses. It just wasn't in his nature. But we all knew we were loved beyond measure. 

It was also late in life that my dad gave his life to the Lord. He served God at 45 years of age along with his family. We never went without. Our needs came before his own. He barely finished high school, but he loved to learn, always had a job, and didn't believe in sitting around doing nothing. After 20 years serving in the military he worked 15 more years in the post office before retiring. After retirement he bought, then refinished and sold antiques so he always had money to spend on others, and hooked huge "personal history" rugs as family heirlooms. 

People always came before things, and that's what I admired most about him. Tonight I’m thankful for this man who fought for our country and our freedom; the man who was my dad. He passed away four years ago, but my memories are as strong as ever. 

Dad (standing far right) in England just before a mission during WWII.

A PRECIOUS PORTRAIT

The mother on the other end of the line was clearly in distress.  Her teenage son was graduating from high school, but he hated having his photo taken.  He made it clear to his mother that he would agree to maybe a few photos, but that was it.  And he wasn’t taking his hat off.  Period.  And he wasn’t going to smile either, or dress up in some fancy outfit.  After explaining all this the mom asked if I would be willing to “take on” her son, and his senior photo session.

It was the late 90’s, and my portrait business was in full swing.  I kept busy with weddings and families, but my favorite clients were seniors.  They enjoyed trying new things, and breaking out of the traditional.  Seniors always challenged my skills and my creativity.  They kept me on my photographic toes so to speak! 

I felt honored she would ask me to take on this challenging task.  It meant so much to her, and yet so little to him.  She went on to say she had heard I was really good with teenagers, and had a reputation for making senior portraits a fun time for them.    She had two specific requests; could I try and get one photo without his baseball cap, and one shot of him smiling.  Assuring her I would do my best we picked out a day and time.  

The out of doors is always my preference for portraits.  Natural light can’t be surpassed, but nature also puts folks at ease.  It’s so much harder to get people to relax in a studio setting.  And the teens in our area almost always prefer the outdoors for their sessions, especially guys.  I knew immediately that Riverside Park would be the best choice for this young man.  Fall colors were in full swing, and it was a short drive from the studio.  

I encouraged teens to bring one or more friends to their sitting.  It helped relax them, and made it more fun for all of us.  They would help me with the reflector, and watching for stray hairs and other details I might miss.  I asked mom if he would like to bring a friend to the sitting, but quickly replied he was a loner and would be coming by himself.  So I decided to ask my husband to be my assistant on this challenging sitting.  He has a great sense of humor, and could lighten up the mood.  I knew that would be paramount for getting some really good photographs of this young man.

The afternoon arrived, and the senior met us at Riverside Park by himself in his beat up pickup truck.  He had on broken-in jeans, an old t-shirt with a hole in it, and a well worn baseball cap.  I asked him if he brought any other shirts and the curt answer was no.  He was all business, and had an “I want to get this over with” attitude.  As I got the equipment ready Jay went to work doing his magic.  My husband is a college geology professor who is loved for his down-to-earth, and fun loving approach to teaching.  He used his sense of humor to begin softening the mood.

I decided to not let the hole in his t-shirt ruin my determination to get a great portrait.  I hid the hole by poses with his arms crossed in front of him, or with a branch, or some other technic.  And when all else failed I could always have the distraction retouched out of the picture.  The important thing was to not let it frustrate me.  I moved quickly, not spending a lot of time fussing, or posing, or arranging.  “Keep it light”, I kept telling myself!  This is not a time for micro-managing.

Before long this fellow responded beautifully to our team approach of keeping it moving, and keeping it light!  Jay would crack a joke like, “That one’s a GQ shot.” or “All your girlfriends are going to want that photo”, or “I hear Hollywood calling”.   He coaxed the smiles, while I kept my finger on the trigger, ready to capture that moment each time it happened.  Pretty soon our senior was suggesting a pose he thought would look cool with his truck!  At one point he said, “My mom would probably like me to take my hat off for some photos.”  So for the remainder of the session he kept his baseball cap in the cab of the pickup.  I was on cloud nine with the way this session flowed that afternoon!  After about an hour and a half of taking photos we headed our separate ways.

Mom was thrilled with the results of the portrait session.  Her expectations had not only been met, but exceeded.  There was her son in numerous photos looking relaxed and completely himself, smiling and hatless.  “How did you do it?”, she asked.  I responded, “Trade secret!”, and winked.

A couple of years passed when I received another phone call from mom.  She apologized for such short notice, but she needed some 8x10’s from her son’s senior session.  “We would like to display them at his memorial service this Friday.  He took his life last week.  Those are the best photos we have of him.  We are so grateful we have those photographs.”

I attended his memorial service; half a dozen framed 8X10’s placed among the various floral arraignments at the front of the room.  Smiling.  Hatless.  And young.  So young.

I value photographs highly.  More then most perhaps.  Not a single negative has been tossed or destroyed out of the tens of thousands of negatives I’ve created with film cameras.  Numerous times I’ve been contacted for prints or negatives of loved ones I photographed who have passed.  It’s always a privilege to be able to provide those things.  It’s my way of  cherishing life.  If portraiture can be a “calling” I’d like to think this is mine.  It’s a privilege to record a person’s life, even if it’s only one hour of one afternoon during their last year of high school.

This photo is in memory of Sarah Evans (the little girl) 

who passed away much too soon in 2005.

THE DAY I CELEBRATE A MIRACLE!

Today, October 23rd, is a very special day for me!  Five years ago I overdosed on prescription medication, and should have died. God chose to extend my life in a miraculous way.  As I slipped away into unconsciousness I heard a heavenly voice say, "Call 911".  I recall starting to argue with the voice that I was feeling just fine.  But before I could get my thoughts out I heard the sentence repeated, and one word was added, "Call 911 NOW."   I have no memory of anything else from that moment until I awoke in the intensive care unit at our city hospital the next day.  I don't know how I made the call in my semi-conscious state.  According to the hospital emergency room records I was not even coherent when the call was made.  But I do know that if I had not made that early morning 911 call for myself I would not have been alive when my husband got home from work that night.  I do not take any single day since then for granted. "I'm living on borrowed time." Each day is a gift because of the gift of salvation which Jesus Christ died for. Have you received YOUR gift? Please watch this video!

 http://www.youtube.com/watch_popup?v=cLj4akmncsA&feature=channel_video_title

FAMILY CAN DRIVE YOU CRAZY

My childhood home came with a father who could be explosive.  We never knew what might set him off, and after the blow-up the offending party would get the silent treatment for hours, or days.  I picked up that behavior, but eventually broke myself of it.  But I have a family member who continues to behave in this way.  Last night, for the umteenth time, this person didn’t like something I said, and hung up the phone on me.  Well, the umteenth time was one time too many for me.  I sat down at my computer, and started typing exactly what I wanted to say to this individual.  Two pages later I clicked save, and went to bed fuming.  (Fortunately this person does not have e-mail, or Facebook, or anything else to do with the computer age.)

I asked the Lord to show me what to do.  I knew what I wanted to do!  I wanted to mail them a copy of those two pages.  But what did the Lord want me to do?  I fell asleep with that question on my brain.  Each time I awoke the same question popped into my head.  And each time I just prayed, “God help me!  Show me what to do.”  

In the morning the scripture reading for the day was about how Jesus was not accepted in his hometown.  It added Jesus left there because he could do very few miracles because of their lack of faith.  It also spoke of Jesus warning to the disciples that accepting him would sometimes mean family will turn against you.  Then I saw the words “left that place” as if it were highlighted.  God was clearly telling me to not engage in conversation with this family member.  Just walk away.  Let God deal with them.  God is more then capable of revealing to them anything they need to know about their bad behavior.

I gave this person to Jesus, and immediately felt at peace.  The anger was instantly gone!  I knew that just walking away was the right decision for me.  I had a birthday card I hadn’t mailed this person because of my anger.  I pulled out the card, signed it, addressed it, and put it in the mail.

I’ve gone about my day with joy knowing God is in charge.  I’m thankful I didn’t go more then one sleepless night dealing with anger and frustration.

THE PRETENDER

When a waitress in Ohio asked to see a customer's driver's license, she was shocked when she saw the photo on the ID. It was her own picture! The waitress had lost her driver's license a month earlier, and this young woman was using it so she'd have "proof" she was old enough to drink alcohol. The police were called, and the customer was arrested for identity theft. Trying to gain what she wanted, she pretended to be someone she wasn't.

I know what it’s like to pretend to be someone I’m not.  It’s no fun.  It’s lonely for one thing.  And it’s scary.  When my first child was born I didn’t bond with her.  In fact, I suspected she was going to take my husband’s affections away from me.  At one point I was going to kill her, but God protected both of us.  God brought me through a difficult case of postpartum psychosis without doing harm to myself or my baby.  But I was alone through all this because how do you tell someone that you want to kill your baby?  Well, you can tell me because I’ve decided to make my life an open book.  I don’t want to pretend anymore!    

Pretending goes on an awful lot in our churches today.  Many people put on a false front. They use the right “Christian” words, attend church almost every Sunday, and even pray before meals. They pretend they “have it all together” in order to gain the approval of others.  Inside they’re struggling with brokenness, guilt, doubt, or an addiction or other persistent sin.  

God placed us in a body of believers to support one another. What would happen if you admitted you aren’t perfect?  Have you considered seeking the counsel of a godly brother or sister in Christ who has earned your trust?  Take a chance!  Stop pretending!  Don’t hide your sin and cover up, pretending there is nothing wrong.  Instead, confess it and repent.  Be what God intends you to be ~ don’t pretend to be what you’re not.  God will bless your life in ways beyond anything you can imagine.

My two beautiful girls (back in the 80's) that God blessed me with!

MY LAST THEATER GIG?

During the last three theater productions I’ve been involved in since being completely healed  I asked myself at least once this question:  Will this be my last theater “gig”?  Tonight is opening night for my latest theater production; “Shrek the Musical”.  I’m sitting here asking myself that question.  “Will this be my last theater “gig”?  

I love everything about theater, especially musical productions!  When I say everything I mean the tryouts, the rehearsals (especially dress rehearsals), working with fellow actors, the costumes, and of course the experience of being on stage with an audience!  I love moving the audience to tears and laughter.  Musical theater is my absolute favorite kind of stage work, but it can be very “physical” because it usually includes dancing and bigger movements.  My last two shows, and the current one are musical productions; Phantom of the Opera, Fiddler On the Roof, and Shrek the Musical!

My very first show at Centennial High School was “Miracle Worker” about Helen Keller.  My best friend played Helen, and I played her mother.  That was in 1968.  Ten years later in 1978 I was cast in “Music Man” while pregnant with my third baby.  Enoch was born a month early, so I missed opening night.  Taking care of three young children kept me pretty busy the next ten years, but in 1988 I found myself a full-time college student, and once again on the stage.  I played a crazy psychotherapist in the comedy “Beyond Therapy”.  From that point on I auditioned, and was cast in a couple of shows per year in the college theater department.  Fifteen shows were notched on my belt when I became ill with an incurable lung disease, and Sjogren’s Auto-Immune Disorder.  These debilitating illnesses put me out of commission for over eight years.  I didn’t think I would ever experience the joy of stage performing again.  But in 2008 God healed me completely of both the lung disease and the auto-immune disorder!  

It took a couple of years, and a wonderful musical production to bring me out on the stage again.  With great trepidation I auditioned for, and was cast in the college’s 2011 production of “Phantom Of The Opera”.  It was demanding for a fifty nine year old, but what an incredible experience!  A year later a local community theater choose “Fiddler On The Roof” for their 100th anniversary show.  I was selected to play Grandma Tzietel, and had a wonderful time getting to know a new group of fellow thespians.  And now it’s 2013, and I’m the Fairy Godmother in “Shrek The Musical”.  At sixty one years of age the physicality of musical theater is proving again to be very demanding.           

That is why the evening before opening night of “Shrek” I find myself asking, “Will this be my last theater gig?”  I’ve experienced loosing my health rapidly so I know only too well how any number of physical problems could pop up that would hinder me from keeping up with fellow actors in another stage show.  That’s why I’m going to bask in every moment under the stage lights of "Shrek The Musical".  After all, this may be my last theater “gig”.

The musical "Phantom Of The Opera".

I played the "Confidant".

The musical "Fiddler On The Roof".

I played Grandma Tzietel.

"Shrek The Musical"

I'm playing the Fairy Godmother!