Tag Archives: North Dakota

Thanking God for North Dakota

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Hey Dad –

I spent some time away this past weekend.  Much of the time it was just you and me, and we had a lot of time to talk.  I will confess that more of the time I talked, and you listened.  Together we spent some time in worship.  That is the amazing thing about travel time.  I can make a joyful noise to my heart’s content.  There were much appreciated quiet times.  It was during those silent moments that I was moved to tears.  Your creation just does that to me.

Home is something that has been loosely defined by this girl with a nomadic past. My version of home can be the moment in a conversation where I realize how blessed I am by the company you have given me.  Home will always be the emerald coast of Florida’s panhandle with snowy white beaches and all the memories and people of my childhood.  The sanctuary of home is eternally wherever Daniel and our children waltz the delicate  dance steps of life. Uncovering the treasures therein, my garden is one of the places where I feel closest to you; so home has to be found there as well.

I didn’t realize until my trip this weekend how much I realized that North Dakota feels like one step away from you and thus home.  Sometimes, I think that heaven’s gate is just around the next field.  I think my affirmation came when the tears began to well up in my eyes just marveling at the expansive sky and verdant fields.  No place on earth does that to me like a highway in what some aptly call “God’s Country”.

north dakota

I want to thank you for all the places I call home, and most specifically today, for the place called North Dakota.  Thank you for a sky so large your breath is literally taken away by its beauty.  Thank you for rich and fertile soil that grows such beautiful crops.  That same rich soil is where we chose to return the shell of our son.  His earthly resting place is in one with such beauty where ducks fly over, deer frolic, and prairie grasses whisper in the wind.  Thank you for fields of sunflowers that could make any heart leap for joy.  I praise you for the people of the Dakotas who are truly some of your finest masterpieces.

Thank you for creating the people that brought me to and who keep me tied to that prairie land.  First it was my parents who transplanted a Southern girl to the plains and who created family all those miles away.  Then my heart was lovingly anchored there by the Dakota boy I married as well as our extended family who keep me dreaming of the next visit.

Humbled, rejuvenated, connected, but most of all, loved, I am so thankful for the time I spent in the Red River Valley this weekend.

Thank you for creating North Dakota as a place where my soul finds rest.

Love always,

Your Daughter

What my soul needed

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Aruba, Jamaica, ooh I wanna take ya

Bermuda, Bahama, come on pretty mama

Key Largo, Montego

Baby why don’t we go?

Jamaica

Up north to the town, Leeds

Um? Kandy?

That is not how the song lyrics go.

Yes, I would agree with your assessment. And No! This isn’t one of those times when I actually couldn’t understand the words and used my imagination to make up my own.  I will assert that my own lyrics are sometimes much more entertaining than the originals.

Actually, this time  I made this version as I was walking down a partially gravel road (3rd St S to be exact) in Leeds, ND last night.  I was walking from Great Aunt Mary’s house to Lorraine’s (Daniel’s mom) house following an amazing supper on the front lawn – labor of love of three generations of Nowatzki’s.

The meal was caught, cleaned, battered, fried, prepared, eaten, and washed up with “all hands on deck”.  While sitting on the lawn, I could feel deeply, an overwhelming sense of joy overcome my heart.

I have to confess that I was incredibly excited for our family reunion and seeing all of our family, but I have been carrying around an aching sadness.  I have been yearning for the vacation we had planned to take this year for Reed’s graduation (much like the ones in the beginning of the song).  Sadly, a myriad of reasons put the kibosh on that plan.

So going to one of our “homes” (again I was excited to do) is the only vacation we are taking this year as a family.

After that multi-generational dinner – which was less about filling my stomach and more about replenishing my soul – I took that short walk to have a quiet conversation with God.

Rested and relaxed, I realized this is truly what a vacation is meant to be.

No stress. . . no worries. . . and filled with things loved.  (Of course, I love the sea too, but this time God granted me insight into the vacation I needed and not the one I wanted.)

As I walked, I thought back to the last couple of days and all the things I didn’t see on travel sites and travel brochures.

  • Little kids running between houses with imaginations longer than the hours of the day
  • Sun-soaked hair that shows hours spent playing outside or at the city pool
  • Cousins that have never met having sleepovers and making instant connections
  • One sweetie catching her first fish (and it was a whopper) and teaching her the fine art of telling a fisherman’s tale
  • Taking a late night trip to the train station to pick up a cousin I had never met
  • Hugging everyone many times a day
  • Having a special “graduation” moment for Reed wrapped in the loving arms of my cousin, Amy
  • Walking everywhere, seldom with a destination in mind
  • Quilting and sharing lots of love and memories
  • Three o’clock chocolate breaks
  • The goofiness of teenagers
  • Late night sessions of packed tables with stories being swapped in every direction
K's first fish - photo bomb courtesy of my girl, E.

K’s first fish – photo bomb courtesy of my girl, E.

No agendas . . . other than to love each and every moment.

In the few block walk, I confessed to God that I needed an attitude of the heart adjustment. Instead of worrying about what I thought I wanted (dare I say I thought I “deserved”), I began to appreciate what I have (a message resonating with me in many aspects of my life).  I’m glad that in just a few short days, He showed me that what I needed to have a revival of my spirit He had already provided. Perhaps it would be best to get out of my own way.

For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel encumbered by all my worries.  Today, I am thanking God for family reunions, soul refreshment (by letting go), and of course, dusty dirt roads.

What a momma won’t do . . .

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In the spirit of Mother’s Day weekend, I have spent some time thinking about the joys (and struggles) of motherhood.  Being a momma IS and forever WILL BE my most important work.  I am not alone in this belief.  I have so many great examples of what good mommas do that I really felt compelled to write this today.

In the last few months, I have watched my friends and family make momma sacrifices that would flood the GNC (that’s the Good News Channel)  I hope to start one day.  (Of course, I know nothing about television or radio, but I do know the world needs to hear a little more good news – not to mention the Good News – everyday.)

Here are some recent examples of what a good momma won’t do:

  • Let her child fail at school when the pieces aren’t adding up.  (She finds a good tutor or helper.)
  • Let her child fight huge battles alone. (She digs out and puts on her boxing gloves.)
  • Let her children squirm out of consequences. (But, she is there to encourage them anyway.)
  • Let her children lose their imaginations. (She disconnected the cable.)
  • Let her child miss out on an opportunity. (She sacrifices time, energy and resources to make it happen.)
  • Let her baby believe something (even small) will be easy.  (Yes, it’s going to hurt, but she will be with you every step of the way.)
  • Let her child think they are the only one. (She shares scars from her past.)
  • Let her children assume that heartbreak is a private pain to bear. (She weeps in front of them.)

I could go on and on, as I am surrounded by good mommas every day in my world.  Generations ahead and those coming behind me have inspired me each and every day to strive to become the best momma I can be.

I am travelling this weekend to North Dakota, and the main reason for that trip is what one momma won’t do.  She won’t preach what she doesn’t practice.  I remember the conversation that started a long, arduous, but ultimately fulfilling, journey for her.  Yesterday, my sister (after knowing her for 20+ years, we dropped the in-law part) walked across the stage  earning her Associates of Science Degree in Nursing.  She awaits Board Certification, but she is an RN.  But those capped and gowned steps didn’t really show the whole story the eleven of us in the audience already knew. A single mom of four, her footsteps started as an idea when her oldest was a freshman in high school.  How can I preach to him to go to college when I never did? Wow!  I remember being blown away by her words.  I was speechless (which I admit is rare for me).  She went on to say that her dream had always been to be a nurse, and she had researched the local community college and found a program that fit her needs.  I will have some tough classes.  Will you tutor me? Absolutely!  My chips were all in for the biggest prize ever – helping her succeed!  She found resources (including me, the other sisters, Grandma, her own children, community members, other students, faculty, staff, & the TRIO program), showing her children that sometimes it takes a village to raise a momma.  She spent long hours, staying up past when the kids were in bed to study.  She sacrificed in countless ways to prove to her children that she VALUES education.  Her past three years have been a testament to will and determination as well as hard work and a few tears.

So yesterday, if all those other people at the college graduation didn’t see it, let me tell you what you missed – a momma who practices what she preaches strut across the stage as a college graduate.

lori

I am SO THANKFUL that I was there to witness each step of what a momma won’t do.

The thing about grief . . . Part 7

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from the website www.1065thearch.com

from the website www.1065thearch.com

Originally, I thought that I was going to write a 6 part series on grief, but twice I woke up and clearly God had something other than what I had planned ready to go.  Trust me; His ideas are always better than mine; so here we are with at least a couple more parts.

Since we chose to bury Reed near his Grandpa Earl in North Dakota, we had to drive the 430 miles to the cemetery.  It was our first time out in the larger world since 10 days prior when my whole life changed.  I don’t remember the item we needed on the trip home, but I do remember how out of body the experience seemed.  We stopped at the Super Target in Grand Forks.  I remember standing by the carts at the entrance when suddenly I had to grip the cart corral.  I watched as everyone in the store flit about, going on as normal.  I wanted to scream at them all. They moved around like ants marching in fast forward in a world of pointless errands.  Everything around me was spinning.  My only thought was how can they not all see how sad I am.  Then the worse thought crept in. They really could see the gigantic hole in my heart, but they didn’t care.  I wanted to know when it would be that I could move around again with no worries or cares in the world.

The honest truth was it took months to even feel human.  Even though we continued forward with life, it took that long before I didn’t feel shell-shocked.  But the verse Psalm 30:5 is true, “Weeping may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning.”  It wasn’t literal for me in this case, but there came a time that I did reenter society – shopping at the store, attending school functions, and getting my hair done.

The thing I remember most vividly is the first time I really laughed.  I honestly thought I would never do that again.  I had a few giggles at the memorial service where kids who loved Reed shared a few great stories.  If I could earn gold medal in worrying, I would be, at the very least, a silver medalist in laughter.  I love to laugh, always have. It is something that I inherited from my mom, and have passed on to my own kids.  When my heart was ripped into pieces and my whole being was exhausted dealing with two injured children, laughter looked like something that had left without me.

Then one day several weeks after the crash, I was waiting for the sweet family that was bringing us supper that day.  Sawyer was sitting in his recliner watching television.  Normally, I wouldn’t have let him watch this show, but at that point, he was still writhing in pain 23 out of every 24 hours.  So, if watching The Simpson’s kept his mind of losing his brother/best friend (not to mention his own losses), I wasn’t going to declare a war on inappropriate television.

While sitting there, the opening of the show had a postcard arrive in the mail.  Marge looks at the scenic side of the postcard.  At first, I missed the sarcasm.  But when it sank in to my numbed brain, I began to laugh.  I laughed so hard that I trembled.  Tears rolled down my cheeks.  It was at that moment that I knew I would be able to laugh again.  I realized that “joy had arrived in the morning”.  I wasn’t betraying Reed by being happy or laughing.  I didn’t feel guilty laughing at the snarky card. Simply, I enjoyed good humor.

Exhausted, yes!  Overwhelmed, absolutely! Edgy humor, definitely inappropriate! Beginning to feel that I would laugh again, amazing!

It was a simple start, but it was a baby-step beginning to normalcy.  I did an internet search just the other day on that episode.  Sadly, I couldn’t find it in English, but it is available on Youtube in a language I don’t even recognize.  It really isn’t all that funny, but for whatever reason, it sent me into uproarious laughter.

Maybe you had to have been her.

No copyright infringement intended.  All rights reserved to the owners of The Simpson’s.