My First

There's something about a first born.

I hope my not-first-borns don't take offense at that.

It's not that first borns are loved more or anything like that. It's just that they were first.

The first soul God gave me (and Lou) to parent.

We talk about "firsts" in our world. Our first kiss. First dance. First time to drive solo. First tooth. First word. First steps. First holiday without a loved one. First blog posts.

My first born

We recognize that there's something significant about a first thing or first time. I can't really define what that something is, and sometimes I wonder if we put too much emphasis on the "firsts." But it seems undeniable that there is some kind of non tangible but very real "first" hump that you traverse as you encounter the daily affairs that make up a life. To meet and go through the firsts of life, what does it take? Courage? Wonder? Faith? Hope? A mix of all those...and more?

I've been pondering this the past few days because July 24 is my first born's birthday. Our Luke Vaughan, will be 24 on the 24th.

On his birthday, I always think of this note we received from my Aunt Margie. You can see when she wrote it. Two months after Luke was born. My birthday, 1989. It's to Luke, but what a gift it was/is to us. I wonder now if he's ever even read it.

For those of you who have cursive issues, I'll type out what the note says.

Dear Luke,
    We were so thrilled to hear about your arrival. You are pretty special you know to have such wonderful parents. We have watched your mom grow up since she came into this world and believe me she is the greatest. We haven't been around your Dad too much, but we hear he is too. 
     You are also pretty special because you are your mom and dad's first born. The love that surrounds you is almost unbelievable. Just remember as you grow up - I'm loved. I'm loved. I'm loved.  And then someday when have your first born you will realize just how special you are. 

Lots & Lots of Love

Marge & Bill

Great Aunt & Uncle

Luke. My first born. The anticipation of a birthday makes you think about your history and your future with your child. So, today (July 23rd), with the "pre-birthday pondering pump already primed," I was struck anew when I heard a line in the Epilogue from "Les Miserable" today. I've heard that song multiple times, but I've never really heard this particular part before. Jean Valjean is dying. One of the things he says to the child (Cosette) he has raised in his last words is that he was "a man who only learned to love when you were in his keeping."

When I heard that, it was like my soul said, "That's it." That's part of the gift of your first born. They are the first note in the symphony of really learning to love.

I am a woman who only began to learn to love when Luke was born into our keeping.

I confess, that at Luke's birth, I didn't realize I needed to learn to love. I loved Lou, my family, my friends, and they loved me back. We had this beautiful give and take thing going on. Then this new life came into my world knowing everything about the "take" part of love and nothing about the "give" part of love.  He demanded to eat by crying furiously. When I did what he wanted and fed him, he spit up on me. Then he pooped. And pooped. And pooped some more. And I cooed, smiled and sang to him while I wiped it all up. And I hugged him close and kissed his face afterwards like I was eternally gratefully for the stinky experience I'd just had.

I didn't realize it then, but those experiences with a completely dependent newborn - who can't give back to you in any way, they only take - were my first lessons in learning what unconditional love really is and really looks like. And having that unconditional love and expressing that unconditional love wasn't even hard!  I loved that baby. How beautiful and merciful of God to begin lessons in unconditional love in a baby. Oh, I definitely had my moments of near terror when I realized there wasn't any going back on this taking complete care and raising another human being thing - a "what have we really gotten ourselves into?" kind of fleeting thought. They didn't last because I loved that boy. I was willing to do what was best for him in the long run no matter what his response to me was.

24 years, 6 kids later, I'm still learning. The intensity of the lessons have waxed and waned (are waxing and waning) over the years with each child contributing in their own unique way to my "education." I am eternally grateful for each of them. And, I am eternally grateful God started my lessons with Luke. He is a gift from God.

With him being 24, he is no longer, technically, "in my keeping." He's on his own. He's a man.

A man - my first born - who I love dearly and will always keep close to my heart.

I love this picture of Luke and me

Don't Settle

I attended a beautiful wedding over July 4th weekend.

Hannah's University of Arkansas/study abroad roommate, Megan Dunham, said "I do" to fellow Razorback, Alex Nunn. Lou and I have hosted them in our home, and dined with them in Europe, so we know them pretty well. My eyes filled with tears as Megan began to walk down the aisle.

So young. So in love. So much promise, and adventure, and fun ahead. Also ahead? Hard times, tears, and sadness. You can't know them all now. You shouldn't know them all now.

The wedding is the day we seriously vow and seriously celebrate the amazing covenant instituted by God so we're not alone for whatever is ahead.

It is a good thing. A very good thing.

At the reception, we talked about all kinds of things. I heard some things I expected to hear.

It was such a beautiful wedding.

Alex and Megan are so well matched.

They are perfect for each other.

But I also heard something that pleasantly surprised me.

My oldest, Luke, had flown in from California to attend. He was sitting next to my 17 year old, Elizabeth. He put his arm around her, hugging her and said, "Elizabeth, don't settle. Find a boy that will treat you like Alex treats Megan."

Here was an older brother loving on his sister. In just a few words, he let her know how much her cared and how much he wanted the absolute best for her.

I think she'll hear those words at all the right times. Words from an older brother carry weight.

As I've reflected on that brotherly advice, I remembered some words I heard Andy Stanley say in his series, The New Rules for Love, Sex & Dating. (I highly recommend those talks!) They take the important "don't settle" component and add to it the equally important component, "do become." It goes like this:

"Become the person that the person you're looking for is looking for."

You have to say that to yourself a couple of times. At least, I did.

Isn't it great? It covers a lot of bases.

This is my prayer for my kiddos as they are either in the potential marrying stage or fast approaching it.  

Lord, let them become the person the person they're looking for is looking for.

To end, I'll quote Luke again and share a few pictures. The day of the wedding he tweeted this:

Luke Harris ‏@ilukeharris6 Jul

Weddings are awesome

Yes, they are. They combine the best of seriousness and celebration.

Thanks, Alex and Megan, for letting us share in yours! Many, many blessings!

Very yummy, fun food served at the reception!

Representing the Harris Clan.
Missing David (working at Kanakuk as a counselor)
Missing Lou and Faith (on a medical mission trip in El Salvador)

The beautiful bride and her handsome groom

Me and my oldest

Elizabeth and Mary Grace rockin' the photo booth!

Hey Jude

Remember that song?

I bet you are humming it now.

I think of it every time I go to the book of Jude in the Bible, which is the Jude I really want to talk about.  A couple of weeks ago, my pastor referred to a verse out of Jude in his sermon. It spoke to me. So much so, that I thought I'd need to read a little more about it later...

That  same afternoon, my family and I packed up and left for our week at Kids Across America. On the way down, as I was thinking about our time there, I realized I had nothing particular lined up to read during my quiet time. The next thing I knew "Jude!" popped into my mind. It's a one chapter book... we'll be at camp a week...perfect! That one verse near the end of those 25 verses had so spoken to my heart, I was pumped to see what the rest of Jude said.

I opened my Bible the next morning and started reading. I hadn't read too far when I began semi regretting that I had chosen that book.

The heading in the ESV before verses 3-16 is "Judgment on False Teachers."

O good. Just what I wanted to spend a week reading about.

Like I said, Jude is only 25 verses long, so while that's not what the entire book is about, it's what a good chunk of the book is about.

My next thoughts went like this: "Ok. I haven't told anybody that I was going to spend a week reading this book, so I'm not really committed to doing it. I'll find something else in the morning."

But the next morning I opened it up again and read, asking God to show me something - any kind of take away from this book.

God more than answered that prayer.

Every morning when I spent time reading those words, God showed me something that fed my soul. I don't know about you, but when that happens to me, I want to share it with someone.

Which is where you come in. Maybe you're at a place this summer where you're at a bit of a loss as to what to read next in the Bible. I've got a thought for you!

 I'd like to invite you to take this next week and read through the book of Jude at least once a day, asking God to show you himself in it - asking God to teach you from it. Then next Monday, July 1, 2013, I'd like to invite you to my house from 7:00-8:30 pm to talk about what God taught us.

It will be low key and low pressure, and I'm pretty sure some kind of snack will be involved. (I'm kind of loving Biscoff cookies right now, so they might make an appearance:)

Even though I'm leading this, I'm not officially teaching on this book. I do not understand all that's going on in it at all. But after I spent a week in it, I loved God more and was encouraged in my faith. I think you will be too. At this little get-together, we can encourage one another!

I know that this is an invitation to the ladies near Bolivar, MO. But it's also an invitation (an idea) for anybody to spend the next week asking God to reveal Himself to you in the book of Jude. It will be time well spent.

If you're going show up at my place next week, can you let me know? I know some of my readers connect with me here through fb...if you don't know where I live, just private message me there and I'll help you out!

Many blessings to you this week as you Hey Jude it...reading and humming.

The Blister

You never know where or when you'll find inspiration.

I was in the middle of my quiet time on the porch here at KAA, when I glanced down to check on a blister I discovered last night. The first line of my little attempt at rhyming popped into my head almost immediately. The next few lines took a little more work, but messing with words, a theme, and rhyming, is really more fun than work for me.

If you've ever had a blister, maybe you can relate.

Hope it makes you smile.

THE BLISTER

I've got a blister, mister,

And that makes this clown frown.

It messes with my run, son,

So here I sit, unfit.

I see it on my toe, Joe.

It's puffy as can be. Gee!

Is to poke it with a pin sin?

What should I really do, Lou?

I am to touch it not? Boycott!

Give it time to heal? Surreal!

No promises from me, see.

It's so begging me to pop. Stop!

A Little Lesson from Lou

I've been spending a little extra time with my man the past couple of days. We are at KAA for his week of volunteering as camp doctor. Thankfully, it's been less eventful than last year.

But what is the same as last year, and what occurs many days of my married life is this: Lou B. Harris has taught me something.

I've learned a lot from him over the years. I won't list for you the "a lot" because, well, because I'd like you to come back and visit my blog sometime. But I do remember one of the first things he tried to teach me about.  How to cook hash browns. I'd like to say that moment in time was a rip roaring success, but the attempt at conveying culinary information from him to me in our garage apartment at 2101½ S. Madison, Tulsa, OK, that day culminated in another first for us - our first fight as a married couple.

Of course, we laugh about it now. I'm smiling as I type. Hash browns. Really? So silly. So young. So real. And so not about hash browns at the core.

After almost 26 years of marriage, we've become better at conveying and hearing what at least one of us feels needs to be said to the other. I won't say mastered, because we haven't mastered that skill. At least I haven't mastered that skill.  Sometimes, even when we are both trying to maturely discuss an issue, words twist, feelings get hurt and I end up wanting to knock him into next week.

Also after 26 years of marriage, we've learned to let some things go. We've learned what's worth discussing and what's not. Lou used to try to encourage me to exercise when we first got married.

"You should go for a run now. The weather's perfect."

"It's amazing outside today! You gonna exercise??"

Even though I've been fairly athletic my whole life, I was not a regular exerciser at the time he made those sweet little suggestions. We discussed I told him that I really need to come to the whole exercise conviction on my own. While he thought he was looking out for my health, I took his nudging as, "Get off your duff, you slug." Once he realized that's what his words said to me, he honored my request, stopped the nudging, and modeled good exercising behavior.  I was eventually won over to his way of good thinking and started exercising regularly.

Another area that he's been wise to not nudge is in the neatness/orderly category. I might as well just confess it now. He's neater than me. I'm not a complete slob, mind you. It just comes more naturally to him than it does to me, darn it.

Which brings me to the Lou de jour lesson. When I returned to our room here at KAA today after exercising (had to throw that in there), I threw off my shoes and jumped in the shower. When I was ready to put my shoes back on, I looked on the floor and saw something I hadn't noticed until just then:

Those shoes (and socks) in the floor that everybody has to walk around and trip over? They are mine.

Those shoes that are easily found and neatly put where nobody has to walk around them or trip over them? Those are Lou's.

Lou, wisely, I might add, has not and does not say anything to me about any of my untidy little habits. He typically just does his orderly thing. If there's one thing I've learned after living with him for these 26 years, it's he has a reason for everything he does. He's the son of an engineer and it shows. It's one of the things that used to drive me crazy, but now one of the things I like most about him. He's purposeful.

Even down to how to store his shoes in our very beautiful, comfortable, but closetless room here at KAA.

So, there it is. A little wordless lesson from Lou that he was completely clueless about until now.

Wordless are pretty much the best kind of lessons, aren't they?

Clutter Count Catch Up

Talk about being behind.

Talk about the subject that cannot be named.

Talk about something that hasn't been talked about since...March!!!

Yes, it's Clutter Count 2,013 in 2013. And if you've even forgotten what I'm talking about, you can read about it here. In a nutshell, our house has become too cluttered - too hard to clean - and I'm determined to get rid of a bunch of stuff.

Up until a big trip to New York in mid-March, I was very consistent and excited about the whole purging process. After that trip, I was still excited, but not consistent. I could produce some pretty legitimate sounding reasons why I've become so consistently inconsistent, but blah, blah, blah. We're all busy, and except for rare, completely unforeseen circumstances, I'm convinced we make time for what we really want to do. This little project was easy to push to the back burner.

However, it's not like I completely forsook it during that time, either. If you check my Clutter Count page, you'll see listed the 139 items that did vamoose during that almost 3 month time span. Every little bit helps. I was actually encouraged when I crunched the numbers to see how my hiatus was going to affect realistically meeting my goal. Originally, I was to rid the house of about 40 items per week to meet my 2,013 goal. Because I was extra ambitious some weeks and went over 40, my decluttering hiccup has only upped that original number by 6. Now, 46 items need to vacate the premises weekly.

That's doable. (Those are two nice words, aren't they?)

So, here I sit, refocused, recommitted and about to reset the "Clutter Count Due" alarm on my phone. It'll go off this Saturday to remind me to get with the program. Not going to moan about the past. Going to start where I am. It's a very good place to be. (do-re-mi)

Speaking of good places to be, I want to end here with a link to a real expert in the world of decluttering/simplifying. It was recommended to me by a friend's daughter. Lacy Clark Ellman said this was her favorite blog to visit for inspiration in the area of simplifying and decluterring. Check it out: Be More With Less.

I hope your June is off to a summery good start.

Many, many blessings to you!

A Rock Climbing Rescue

I'm about to recommend you do some work.

Some serious, but satisfying, life giving work.

I plan on doing this work the rest of my life.

The fruit of this work is like no other.

What could I possibly be talking about?

Memorizing Scripture. 

I make myself memorize scripture.

Most of the time, initially, I don't want to. At the moment when I decide I should be working on the verse/passage I've chosen, I realize I'm at a pivotal place in the book I've downloaded from my Audible account. Or, there's a song I'd really like to listen to, or I suddenly need to check twitter, instagram and facebook and...fill in here with any other diversionary activity.

I don't know if memorization has ever been super easy for me, but I can tell you that at 51 years old, it is not easy for me now. It is work.

But it is absolutely some of the most beneficial work I do. And I want to give it my highest recommendation here.

The verses I'm memorizing now have so fed my heart and soul that I had to write about them in the hopes that someone out there might be encouraged to do the life producing work of scripture memorization. The words in the Bible are true, and eternal. I want to fill my mind - I want to fill my life - with true and eternal words. Life giving words.

So what are these latest words that have so moved me?

Psalm 61: 1-2 (NKJV)

Hear my cry, O God;
Attend to my prayer.
² From the end of the earth I will cry to You,
When my heart is overwhelmed;
Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.


Memorizing something makes you go over, and over, and over the words, ad infinitum. You start really thinking about what it says and, how it is said.

For instance, in these verses, we've got some imperatives going on. "Hear my cry, O God; Attend to my prayer." "Lead me to the rock that is higher than I."

I don't know anything about Hebrew verb tenses, so I might be butchering this to pieces, but on the English level, we've got an example of telling (respectfully and politely, of course) God to do some things for us.

Hear my cry.

Attend to my prayer.

Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.

Does that hit anybody else as incredibly amazing? As incredibly powerful? I am given the example in Psalms to use the imperative tense when I pray to the creator of the universe. These are not meek and mild, timid imperatives, either. "Attend to my prayer" is basically saying, "Get with it, God, and take care of this..." 

Please.

It may be my southern roots, but I silently added "please" on those. But "please" or not, that's a very direct statement to say to God.

The last imperative here, "Lead me to the rock that is higher than I," took on new meaning as I ruminated on it. 

First of all, I noticed that that imperative was preceded by the confession that we humans can have overwhelmed hearts. Can I get an "amen?" I've had my share of overwhelmed hearts, with more certainly lurking in the shadows of my future. How good it feels to say such words out loud, knowing that I'm not condemned in any way for having such a thing. On the contrary, I'm validated and rescued. 

How am I rescued?

I'm told to go rock climbing.

This hit me as quite strange at first. Could God be prescribing a literal cardiac workout for an already overwhelmed heart?

Yes - at least as Part A of this rock climbing rescue.  

When you rock climb, you expend physical energy. Lots of it. If you were to ask my hubby what I do when I am at my wit's end - when my heart is overwhelmed - he would tell you I have to pound the pavement. I go for a walk, typically, but any rigorous exercise fits the bill. Something about that is so incredibly therapeutic and stress relieving, and now, I believe, Biblical. God knows physical exercise helps us when we are overwhelmed. 

Part B of God's rock climbing rescue involves "a view." I'm not a seasoned rock climber, but I am a seasoned hiker, so I've hiked to some high places. I've seen some views. When you get to those high places, you can see a couple of different things. First, you can see where you've been. At this high place, the trail looks different. The twists and turns you had to take to get where you are now make sense. Secondly, you can see breathtakingly beautiful sights that were unimaginable when you were sweating your way up the trail earlier.

Your perspective has changed. God leads us higher into himself, into his word. That is the rock that is higher than we are. When were are there, we can see all, or at least more, of what is really going on. He give us a true view.

Right, true perspective does wonders for overwhelmed hearts.

Glory! Those are truths you can hang your hat on!

The truths in these two verses have increased my faith and made me love God more. I am completely convinced that they would have gone undetected had I not been doing the hard work of memorizing. That discipline is worth every hard second you put into it. When you know you've heard from the God who made you - the God who saved you - there's joy that is uncontainable and deep all at the same time.

And I'm here to tell you that it is worth it.

Leaving the lowlands...

Almost there...

Worth it.

Mom

This Sunday will mark 51 Mother's Days I've celebrated with my mom. She's been a mom 6 years longer than that, but I'm the caboose of 5, so I wasn't around for the early years.

I am around, however, in a very unique way, for these later years. My mom (Violet Marea Petty Vaughan) turns 87 on the 29th of this month and has been living with us since April of 2012. She had a serious illness last year that ended her days where she could live alone.

The days since April 2012 have been a gift. A good, hard, priceless gift. Maybe some time I'll write about some of the things I'm learning during these days. But not today.

Today, I want to express my gratitude to God for the mom He gave me.  Never once in my life have I doubted that she loves me. Never once have I not known that she was in my corner. Those are real gifts to a child. Those are real gifts to an adult. Thank you, God. Thank you, Mom. I love you.

I  also want to share some pictures of my mom. They are completely random -  just ones that I pulled out of some of her albums and some of my albums very quickly before we left for our weekend in Arkansas. I used to love looking at these when I was a child. I still love looking at these as an adult.

My mom grew up in the heart of the depression in the Bootheel of Missouri, the daughter of a farmer and the baby of seven kids. She has some stories to tell of desperately hard times. A favorite of mine is about her dad, Samuel Andrew Petty. Because meat had to go a long way around their table, he would tell them, "You guys eat that," pointing to the lean pieces. "I like the fat."

My grandpa died when I was three. I was always sorry that I never knew him.

Grandpa, Grandma (Minerva Bell), Victor Shirley, Ruth, Mom

The 3 sisters: Ruby, Ruth, and Mom 

Mom, Ruby, My Grandma, Ruth

In keeping with the season this month, here's Mom's high school graduation picture.

Campbell High School graduate

I think this next picture was taken when Mom was in nurse's training. It is also proof that everything eventually comes back in style. Saddle oxfords must have been "in" then, and they are "in" now.

My mom and dad didn't have professional pictures taken at their wedding, just a few snapshots. I always thought her dress was so pretty.

Love her smile on this one. And her skinny waist.

I picked this next one because she was holding me. I'm kind of a sucker for those pictures. The boy scout isn't one of us, and I can't remember his name.

?, Andy, Hugh, Mom, me, Kathy, Keith

Think the sun was a little bright the day this next picture was taken? And we've been Cardinal fans for a long time.

My dad's mom, "Mama Trudy," Mom, Dad, Keith, me, Andy, and Kathy

And now, fast forward a few years....

August 1, 1987.

I've always liked that picture of us. A happy picture on a very happy day.

I'm anticipating another happy picture tomorrow. I'm grateful that my mom is my mom.

Mom, you are a gift.

Love.

Just Under the Gun

I'm making it just under the gun.

Today is April 30, the last day of National Poetry Month.

It is fitting that my last poem of the month is recited by my last child.

And she's talking about Caterpillars.

I am not a crawly, insect kind of girl at all. Just thinking about that Entomology project I had to do in college makes me shiver. In an effort to like caterpillars better, I looked at some fun facts about them on About.com. They actually list 10, but it was only the first one that really made me smile. And a little jealous. ;)

Fun fact: The caterpillar has just one job - to eat.

I'm assuming he loves his job, which means I have something in common with an insect. It may not be my only job, but I do have to do it. And I never have to be made to.

I know they turn into beautiful butterflies - which is something - but the only other reason that makes me smile about this larva, is that my Mary Grace talks about them. She leaves out a line or two, but who even notices? She's so stinking cute and endearing. Who can't help but be endearing when you try your hardest, but can't quite say the word "caterpillar."

Please enjoy this short, and very sweet finale to my poetry celebration.

Caterpillar

Brown and furry

Caterpillar in a hurry,

Take your walk

To the shady leaf, or stalk,

Or what not,

Which may be the chosen spot.

No toad spy you,

Hovering bird of prey pass by you;

Spin and die,

To live again a butterfly.

                     Christina Rossetti

                           

Swept Off My Feet

Welcome to post #5 of poems performed by little Harris people.

I had completely forgotten about the following poem, which is hard to believe, because when I read it this time, it completely swept me off my feet.

In this clip, Elizabeth recites "When Young Melissa Sweeps." 

When Young Melissa Sweeps

When young Melissa sweeps a room

I vow she dances with a broom!

She curtsies in a corner brightly

And leads her partner forth politely.

Then up and down in jigs and reels,

With gold dust flying at their heels,

They caper. With a whirl or two 

They make the wainscot shine like new;

They waltz beside the hearth, and quick

It brightens, shabby brick by brick.

A happy gavotte across the floor,

A Highland fling from door to door.

And every crack and corner's clean 

Enough to suit a dainty queen.

If ever you are full of gloom,

Just watch Melissa sweep a room!

Glory be! I think this poem has just transformed the chore of sweeping!

So much of the time, it's all how you "spin" something, isn't it?

You can sweep, or you can...

                                               dance with a broom.

                                               lead your partner forth politely.

                                               go up and down in jigs and reels.

                                               caper. (I had an idea what that meant, but not exactly. Looked it up.)

                                               waltz.

                                               dance the Gavotte - or the Highland Fling. (Depending on whether you 

                                                                                                                     felt French or Scottish that  

                                                                                                                         day.)

The possibilities are endless!

I can't remember whether or not my Elizabeth had a hand in picking out this poem, but I'm awfully glad she recited it so many years ago.  If you're like me, when you see Melissa's hair, you'll smile. And when you hear Elizabeth clicking her fake nails against the poster, you'll smile.

And hopefully, next time you sweep, you'll smile too.