Moment by Moment

For three weeks we’ve been battling one domestic dilemma after another. From colds, to migraines, to coughs, to infections. Trying to homeschool a sleeping boy has been difficult (cough, cough through the night, and sleep, sleep during the day). Trying to tend to others when I’ve been unwell myself has been interesting. (My bed has looked so inviting, that I’ve stopped walking by my room.) Cleaning, washing, nursing, slogging back and forth to the pharmacy, making herbal concoctions, and canceling everything. It has been a moment by moment world.

Somehow, in the midst of the madness, we had a Sunday birthday celebration. (Built two birdhouses with papa, goofed around with grandpa, carved a happy pumpkin with grandma [while I slept] made homemade pizza, and roasted marshmallows in the fireplace.)

Somehow, Halloween came and went. Our neighborhood, for better or for worse, is Halloween Central. I get to greet all the little, amazing, beautiful children at our front door and look into their eyes and laugh with them. But it’s true that we have a witch who lives next door. She loves frightening all the little people–so we took her a batch of rosemary rolls yesterday–as a peace-keeping measure–because John Ronan, now that he realizes this, isn’t liking living next door to a part-time witch.

And somewhere in there I managed to bake two wonderful, delicious loaves of pumpkin bread. See, it isn’t all laundry and scrubbing.

And seriously, living moment by moment is one of mankind’s better inspirations. Focusing all my energy on one little sick person, or on one task, has transported this ever-healing phrase from the deep places of my heart, up through whatever nerves carry prayers, and has landed it on my whispering lips,

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me.


A Little Lemon

It had been three days of a bad cold. My daughter and I were curled on opposite ends of the green couch, complaining and commiserating.

You know, lemon cake might help, I said.

Her eyes brightened. She stopped talking about her  biology class where everything went wrong. She even half-way sat up.

Really lemony lemon cake. Super sour.

That did it. She turned on the music, I hefted my way into the kitchen, she pulled out the ingredients, and I set to mixing.

Once I started to smell the lemon filling the kitchen I knew this was a treat to share–with someone else who needed a lemony cure. I tried to think of others who were suffering with the same nasty, horrible, no-good cold, but everyone I could think of was (thankfully!) healthy. Then, I remembered… My heart sunk. I knew the lemon cake would only be a token gift, but my heart told me not to worry that the giving would be small.

A young mom in our church is strangely, seriously ill. The doctors are at a loss. Natalyia’s liver shut down, and in just one week she went from living a normal life to the very doorstep of leaving. People have rallied, her mom has returned from the Ukraine, and friends are caring for her young son. On Saturday I took the family who is caring for the young boy the lemon cake, and yesterday another young boy had a tragic car accident and the family donated his liver to Nataliya. We are waiting to see how her body reacts to the transplant. Please think of them all, pray for them all, and if you happen to be healthy at the moment, maybe you, too, can give a little something to someone who is on the other side of well.

Meanwhile, I’m on the mend, and seeing the bright, sweet lemony side of things before me. Especially hopeful for Nataliya.

Especially hopeful for Nataliya.

Not About Me

We are delighting in the last days of summer sun–the sleep-in mornings–the late nights of eating ice cream and being silly together. We have had a tremendous summer! We Meyers have all remained healthy, safe, and had new adventures. We are grateful! I am grateful.

And yet… there is another part of me–a part that is not about me…

I have two friends with cancer, another in and out of the hospital, and several who are struggling with depression and relationships. For some, this summer hasn’t been all about road trips, making stripety bags, and baking brownies. For some it has meant hardship, headaches and hoping for better times.

Last week I found myself on the doorstep of several of these friends. Offering food (including bread of course!) and my time to just sit and chat. You do this,

and I do this.

Sometimes, it’s better just to give and not blog all over the place about it.

So I’ll stop there.


We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.

–Winston Churchill

Scones for the Sick

Batch of chocolate chip scones

Mixed and baked: 7:30 am

Ate most of them, gave two to the ailing Gishes

I love making scones. One of these days I’ll post the recipe. It’s too good for words, and you can fiddle with the recipe in all sorts of substituting ways and never ruin it.

So this morning I made a batch of scones as a before-school treat for the munchkins–my second batch in just a few days. The photo above is from an Easter batch I made for the folks at church. Here’s my sweet little one, bedecked in his too-cool blazer that he picked out himself for the special day.

While putting the scones on the cooling rack, the phone rang. I learned that some close friends, carpool friends, were ill. 😦  I packed up a couple of our early morning treats and sent them over to our ailing compatriots.

How fun to share! Get well soon, dear ones…