Ireland (Part 4): Day 4 was a full of blarney!

On the fourth day of our trip, we drove down to Blarney in Cork County.  We stayed at The Blarney Hotel and Golf resort which is only open during the summer tourist season.

 Our first destination in Cork County was Blarney Castle.

Our first order of business was to learn the definition of blarney.  Queen Elizabeth I tasked her emissary, George Carew, with convincing great Irish chieftain Cormac MacCarthy to accept the authority of the English throne instead of clinging to his ancient rights.  Each time Carew tried, MacCarthy would deliver eloquent speeches professing loyalty and flattering the queen, but he would never agree to any of her conditions.  Frustrated, Queen Elizabeth I exclaimed,"This is all blarney.  He never says what he means."

Once Queen Elizabeth had invented this new word, it found its way into literature and eventually became the name of MacCarthy's castle and the city in which it resides.

"Baloney is telling a 50-year-old woman she looks 18.  Blarney is asking a woman how old she is because you want to know at what age women become most beautiful."

 

The legend of the Blarney stone grew out of this story of MacCarthy's eloquent refusal.  A large stone is seated at the top of the castle. Some say the stone was originally Jacob's Pillow, brought to Ireland by the prophet Jeremiah.  There it was said to have provided oracular or prophetic powers to Irish kings. Legends also suggest that it was next moved to Scotland where it served as the Stone of Destiny.  When MacCarthy sent 4000 men to help Robert the Bruce defeat the English in 1314, the stone was supposedly split in half and sent to Blarney.  Folk tales suggest that when a witch was rescued from drowning, she revealed the secret of the stone:

"There is a stone there that whoever kisses, Oh! he never misses to grow eloquent."

What a ridiculous, silly tale, eh?  Yet, if you come to Blarney, you have to kiss the stone, they say.  Well, when I visited Buddhist temples in Japan as a student ambassador and was told that I was supposed to bow to Buddha, I would not dare defy my Lord in such a way no matter how it may have offended my hosts.  So I wasn't so sure about this silly custom.

Yet, we still climbed to the top of the castle and waited in line with all the other tourists, knowing full well that the only one who can tame this fiery tongue of mine is the one true God through His Spirit residing in me.

As we stood in line with the mobs of other dirty, germ covered people from all over the world, all I could think about was how gross it would be to put my mouth on something that had been kissed by thousands..perhaps millions of people.   Actually, I am not that germaphobic, relatively speaking, especially after listening to my husband repeat this theory that the reason our society is so sick is that we are too clean.   Kissing the stone requires hanging upside from the top of the castle tower high above the trees, yet I had hoped that I could be coordinated enough to spread some sanitizer over the portion of the rock where my lips would touch it.  The kind Irish man working at the stone recognized my concerns and then offered to clean the entire thing for me.  Yea!

The Irish infused plenty of humor into the Blarney Castle tour, especially in the signage.  At the entrance of the castle was a hole over a 15 meter deep pit.  A sign suggested that if a guest was not welcome in the castle, when the guest stepped over a certain paving stone over this pit, a guard would pull a catch on the wall causing the stone to turn so that the unwelcome guest dropped into the pit never to be seen again.  They called the pit an "oubliette", which is French for "to forget". More likely, the pit was a granary.

All the castles we toured had these same trapezoid shaped window sills which were ideal for castle defense.  Arrows could be shot out the window without the enemy easily striking the archer.

The gardens and grounds at Blarney Castle were simply breathtaking.  We were reminded of our earlier trip to Biltmore House this past winter and were amazed by the contrast.

 This next collection of photos includes a picture of Blarney City Square.  This big green field in the center of the busy city was so tranquil with families enjoying picnics on blankets or individuals relaxing under the trees with a good book.  We crossed this square to look for something to eat.

My husband and I were having one of those conversations one often has with his/her spouse at meal times after several years of marriage.

He asked, "Where do you want to eat?"
I replied, "I don't know...what would you like?  I want whatever you want." 
He answered, "You know I'll eat anything.  Tell me what you want."
(Repeat ad nauseum)

Then an elderly woman walked right up to us and said, "If you want the best food in Blarney, then you need to eat right there at the Purple Moon*".

*Or some name like that as my memory is failing me now that it's been over three months since our trip.  The restaurant was certainly decorated in lots of purple.  

So that settled the matter and put an end to our banter over where to eat.  Ask and you shall receive, amen?

Then this lady began telling us her ENTIRE.LIFE.STORY.  She was so precious.  She was a widow living meagerly off of her government stipend after spending most of her life cleaning houses for a living. She had such a big heart and gave away as much as she possibly could to anyone in need. She raised several boys and seemed lonely now that they were grown and gone.  She had several health concerns and was going in for tests the next day, so we prayed for her.  She hugged us many times and was absolutely adorable.  The town folk told us she was crazy, but I counted it a great blessing to meet this engaging Irish woman.  She was a woman of strong Catholic faith who despised what alcohol was doing to her country.  The paradox of Ireland being such a devoutly Catholic (south) or Protestant (north) nation, yet having so much of the nation's social life set inside a pub where moderation wasn't necessarily observed struck me, and she was the first one to admit the paradoxical problem.

Outside of the castle curtain wall is planted a poison garden.  This educational garden teaches visitors which plants to avoid, which parts are poisonous, and how they affect the human body. We saw the same plant, foxglove, that my daughter picked out for me for Mother's Day and planted beside our mailbox at our previous house.  Oops!  Thankfully, it's only harmful when eaten.

The most bizarre part of the Blarney estate was Rock Close.  Ireland has mystical Gaelic roots, so while this nation is mostly Catholic/Christian now, this part of the estate points to Irish Gaelic lore.  Inside of a gorgeous taxus baccata tree was a hallowed out cave with something in the corner they called the "witches oven". Above the cave was a mount of roots that looked like a chimney for the witches' oven.  Next to the cave set a rock shaped like the profile of a witch's face, which they fittingly named the Witches' Stone.

I posted this photo of my husband playing Superman with that rock on Facebook.  His mom, who was taking care of our kids for us during our trip, showed the photo to our children, and they immediately believed that their dad was a super hero who secretly goes out every night to save the world.


My favorite part of Rock Close were these awesome climbing trees which served as my hammock.

Ireland (Part 3): James Bond 007 ventures into County Clare

We thought that learning to drive an economy manual rental car on the left side of the road in a foreign country while shifting gears with the left hand during rush hour in Dublin without street signs, a detailed road map, or a GPS unit after not having slept in 2 days was a challenge.  But that first day seemed like a cake walk compared to the third day.   Day three felt like we were living inside of a James Bond film.

Our first stop that day was my favorite destination of the entire trip.  It provided the type of scenery I had only seen in movies and during some European travels during a summer study abroad experience 21 years ago.  We drove to the coast to hike the Cliffs of Moher.  Were it not for the pesky sea gnats that swarmed around us up until we reached the furthest cliff, it would have been a perfectly romantic and glorious way to vacation in Ireland.  I'm not complaining, though.  Cheesy as it was, having musicians play live Celtic music on harps and recorders certainly added that extra touch of Irish ambiance to the hike.

 The underground "strip malls" where souvenirs were sold made me laugh.  It was almost a foreshadowing of where we would be living next.  Our new town of residence has extremely strict ordinances regarding retail store facings to keep the town looking quaint and sophisticated.  The Lowe's Home Improvement store close to our lot where we are building doesn't look like a big box at all.  Each department has it's own entrance with stylish store fronts and awnings to make that big box home improvement store look like a series of boutiques.

 

At one end of the cliffs stands O'Brien's Tower which marks the highest point of the Cliffs of Moher in County Clare, Ireland.  Wikipedia describes the history of this tower better than I could:

"The tower was built on the cliffs in 1835 by local landlord Sir Cornellius O'Brien as an observation tower for the hundreds of Victorian tourists that frequented the cliffs at the time. Another version tells of O'Brien building the tower in order to impress women he was courting. On a clear day the view can extend as far as Loop Head at the southern tip of Clare and beyond to the mountains of Kerry."

After hiking the cliffs, my dear husband had his heart set on seeing Aillwee Cave.  So, we put the address into his phone after finally getting some Ireland maps to download to its GPS, and started driving and driving some more...in circles.  GPS was not much help.  Eventually we ended up on dirt, one-lane roads in the middle of nowhere.  By "nowhere", I mean no street signs, no houses, no gas stations, no people, not even a cow to point us in the right direction.  We were hopelessly lost driving in what seemed to be a gigantic bush maze with no landmarks and no way of knowing where we were enough to even use the sun for navigation.   All this driving was at a gasoline cost of  $15/gallon, and we wondered if we would eventually run out of gas.  After several hours, we finally made our way back to civilization again, but we were much too far from the caves by that point to try again.

We came across yet another castle, so we paid big bucks to tour it, expecting something akin to what we had seen the day before, not realizing at the time that Bunratty Castle was the most complete castle restoration project in Ireland. This castle's entrance fee was a rip-off, but after getting directions to those caves my husband was determined to explore, we wrote off the entrance fees as the price for driving directions.

But those directions were given in the Irish manner, not the detailed instructions we would expect to receive in America.  Our first instruction was to drive "a ways out of town and take the next left".  What exactly is "a ways" and when do you consider yourself "out of town" in towns that are so very rural?  So we traveled what we considered to be "a ways" and took a left.  Then we second guessed ourselves after a few miles and turned back.  Then we tried that road again.

As I mentioned in the first part of this series on Ireland, driving is very dangerous in Ireland with wrecks being a common occurrence.  That's why we had to pay an additional collision waver over and above the cost of the rental car and car insurance and and over the price of the rental car itself just to rent the car.   So, once we were headed in the right direction, we got stuck in a traffic jam due to an auto collision.  Roads are rarely ever more than one or two lanes wide in Ireland, so that one wreck stopped traffic for hours.  We eventually turned around and tried to discover back roads to those illusive caves.  Back roads are very narrow - about as wide as a family sedan.  So, if traffic is coming in the opposite direction, whoever has the smallest car (that would be us) would have to drive backwards along those very wooded, winding, one-land roads with no shoulder until a driveway or intersection came in sight for a turn-off.  Once the larger car passed, then the smaller car would try again.  This process of having to back up for a mile or so occurred several times during our wanderings through those back roads.

Then we got behind a big bus, which was a godsend for at least two reasons.  First, the bus was larger and could pave the way for us.  Secondly, the bus appeared to be carrying tourists, so even if the bus was not headed toward Aillwee Cave, surely it was headed somewhere interesting.  So, we decided to follow the bus, and the bus led us to Aillwee Cave.  We arrived five minutes before the entrance gates closed for the evening.

The grounds for the cave also include a Bird of Prey Center, so while waiting for the next cave tour to begin, we listened in on the end of a demonstration with a peregrine falcon named Lewis, and then we toured the center, learning about all different types of prey birds.

Considering how much time, effort, sweat, toil, tears, blood, risk, and stress went into getting to the caves, it was certain to be a disappointment.  What is worth all that anyway?  The entrance to the cave offered amazing views, though. As one who much prefers wide open spaces to cramped, dark, damp caves, I was content to just hang out at the entrance enjoying the landscape.

My former submariner husband, however, was eager to get inside that cave.   The first thing we saw when we came in were some bear bones followed by a pit that had been used for bear hibernation.  Then we got our fill of stalagmites and stalactites, and I really wished the kids could have been with us since they enjoyed their rock study so much last spring.  That over-exposed cone shaped thing in the middle of my scrapbook page below is a column formed when stalagmites and stalactites meet.

Aillwee Cave is famous for having the largest stalactite in the northern hemisphere.  It was impressive to behold.  But I must confess that what impressed me most in that cave was what happened after they turned off the lights (as they always do in cave tours to show how pitch black dark it is inside).  My predictable, rarely romantic, geeky (in a good way) guy leaned over and stole a kiss in the dark.  I was so startled by this smooth move that I zoned out for the rest of the tour.  It was our anniversary after all, and I still get warm fuzzies with any display of affection from him.

Ireland (Part 2): Breakfast and Day 2 in Dromoland

Irish Breakfast
Each day in Ireland began with a traditional Irish breakfast at the hotel buffet.  I liked the eggs with sauteed mushrooms and tomatoes best.

His plate (front) & mine

 Every morning of our trip, the traditional breakfast buffet at every hotel looked almost identical, though some were tastier than others.  Buffet items included:

• Sausage
• Canadian style bacon
• Eggs
• Sauteed tomatoes
• Sauteed mushrooms
• Black pudding
• White pudding
• Potatoes
• Irish beans (baked beans)
• Assortment of white breads and rolls
• Dark soda bread
• Fresh fruit
• Boiled or fried potatoes
• Various soft cheese
• Occasionally pancakes

At the next to the last hotel, the eggs looked green, and none of my usual selections tasted very good, so I decided to try out the Irish pudding.  It looked more like a dense muffin than what I would consider to be pudding.  It wasn't sweet and tasted more like bread, but it wasn't all that bad.  It looked like it had bits of barley and salmon inside.  I was curious to know the ingredients, so I looked up a recipe on-line after breakfast.  My stomach turned into nauseating knots when I read this recipe.  The first ingredient was 4 cups of fresh pig's blood. Gag!  Other ingredients included:

• 2 1/2 teaspoons salt
• 1 1/2 cups steel-cut (pinhead) oatmeal
• 2 cups finely diced pork fat (or beef suet), finely chopped
• 1 large yellow onion, finely chopped
• 1 cup milk
• 1 1/2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
• 1 teaspoon ground allspice

Dromoland
We spent the next two days in Dromoland County.  The golf resort there which provided our accommodations was also supposed to be a 5-star hotel, but the entrance and grounds paled in comparison to our first night's lodging.

Touring Bunratty Castle and Folk Park in Dromoland County took up most of our second day in Ireland.  The 15th century castle has been fully restored in great detail.  It is Ireland's "most complete and authentic medieval fortress".  Historic homes have been moved and/or reconstructed and farms established to give visitors a real-life experience of Irish life in the 19th century. The village includes homes of the poor and the wealthy, a church and a school, a post office, and a mill.

Ireland (Part 1): Day 1 in Dublin and Laios County

My husband and I each celebrated a significant birthday milestone this year. At the top of my birthday wish list was an exotic romantic vacation to Hawaii.  At the top of his list was a ticket to outer space....with or without me.  My request was more affordable (ya think?), so I through him an outer space party instead and began planning a trip to Hawaii.  However,  we could not get there, visit major destinations, and return home before Grandma and Grandpa returned home after so generously watching our kids for a week.  So, we began looking for fun getaways closer to home that neither of us had ever visited.  We finally decided on a 7-day trip to Ireland, where we both had familial roots.  We usually choose relaxing venues for our anniversary celebrations (vs. the more adventurous trips we have taken on missions or with family), but this trip was not relaxing at all. It was a wild adventure involving several near death experiences, and we just aren't as young as we once were when we set off on adventures like these.  And instead of the low-stress, all-inclusive cruises we normally choose, this trip ended up being way more expensive than we imagined due to terrible exchange rates, horrible traffic safety issues requiring an additional insurance waiver that cost more than the rental car and the auto insurance combined, high gas prices, and extremely costly dining options.  But we're still very glad we went.

We took an afternoon flight to JFK where we landed late with barely enough time to catch our red-eye flight to Ireland. We had hoped to sleep on the plane, but the bizarre yet interesting people seated around us kept me alert most of the flight, while the stewards seemed to be bringing us yet another dry, processed airplane meal whenever I was finally getting settled for a nap.  We arrived in Dublin around 5:00 a.m. the next morning.  We had already been up for over 30 hours, and it was now time to start a new day.

We picked up our rental car, opting to use our phones for GPS instead of renting one from the rental car agency since the cost of renting a GPS unit would have paid for at least three new ones back home.  So, as my husband tried to download maps to his phone at a download rate that would take the next seven hours, we finally gave up and tried to navigate using high level (no details) paper maps in the car.  Here my brave husband was without sleep (which they say is like being legally drunk in terms of reflex speed), and he had to suddenly learn how to drive a manual transmission economy car, shifting with his left hand while seated on the right side of the car,  while driving on the left side of the road in a new country through a city as busy as Manhattan without GPS using foreign maps on roads that bore few if any street signs.  The roads there are crazy with roundabouts at every intersection.  At the first roundabout, we saw our same style car with the same Dooley Car Rental sticker on the back stuck up high in the embankment. It had crashed through the median rail guards and was literally hanging from the embankment with the back end dangling over us we circled the roundabout.  Praise God for my husband's military training because I would have had a total panic attack at the site of that dismal omen. The 2-hour drive to our hotel was treacherous, but we made it.  Thanks to all who prayed for us back home.

The hotel was beautiful. It was a gorgeous golf resort with fabulous landscaping seated in the middle of nowhere.  We arrived around 7:30 a.m., but they would not let us check-in until 4pm or possibly 2pm if a room was cleaned soon enough.  So, my husband, DC, logged onto the hotel WiFi long enough to check emails, primarily at work, but also at home.  That's when we learned that much to our surprise, the first home showing for the year, which took place during our flight to JFK resulted in a written offer.  This summer was our 6th attempt over six years to sell the house, and it sold during the first showing!  We had a month to pack up our entire house, find a new place to live temporarily and/or permanently, coordinate movers and to figure out what to do about our kids' schooling since we had already paid tuition at their current school (45-60 minutes from our target relocation destination) and registration deadlines at all other schools had passed, and schools were on summer break.  YIKES!  How would I enjoy this vacation when I had so much to do back home?  I can't compartmentalize aspects of my life like men can, so I was exhausted and stressed as our vacation began.

Thankfully, the hotel let us store our luggage at the front desk while we took time to regroup.  For my husband, regrouping involved breakfast at the overpriced hotel buffet.  For me, recharging my sleepy batteries meant visiting the hotel spa fitness center.  So we parted ways as I giggled over how romantic our anniversary getaways tend to me.  I married an introvert, so I respect his need for personal space while he lets me satisfy my workout fix.  Something about exercising helps me focus on God and lay down my stresses.  We're an odd pair, but it works for us.

After digesting the news of our home sale and our breakfasts, it was finally late enough in the morning to do some site seeing.  We began with the nearest tourist destination well over an hour away.  We visited Emo House first.  It reminded me of the Biltmore House in many ways with a lovely tour of the sophisticated mansion, lush gardens, and breathtaking views.
We enjoyed a quaint lunch in the courtyard gardens where my dingy yoga pants, frizzy hair, and exhausted face from the previous day's travels looked most out of place in such a perfectly landscaped, upscale courtyard restaurant.  "Whatever," I say.

Next, we journeyed to the Rock of Dunamese, a 9th century hill fort which was conquered by the Vikings in 845 with a castle being built there later.  DC explained the structural features like the murder hole, where boiling water would be poured down on invaders as they entered the gates.  He noted the stair path built into the walls where soldiers traversed during invasions, and we observed how the window openings afforded much protection while slinging arrows at enemies.

The views from the Rock were simply gorgeous.

Later after returning to the hotel, we decided to attempt reached Dublin during the middle of rush hour traffic and spent an hour trying to find the factory which spans a full block or two.  Finally we found it with five minutes before the entrance doors closed, but we could not find a parking place, so then we had to fight the rush hour traffic back to our hotel. My husband had by then gone two days without sleep while driving a manual transmission on the left side of the road.  He is amazing! 

We stopped off  at a mall, which looked very much like the malls we have here, for dinner.  With gas prices around $15/gallon, we regretted having wasted all that time and money driving only to not get into our destination, but at least we enjoyed the beautiful landscapes along the way, and my husband got more practice driving along those crazy roads.

Views of Ireland and our rental car parked at the mall

Fun snippets from life with our silly kids

When we moved from the country into the middle of a busy city, I was very surprised to discover that the Greenway here, while shorter than the 36 mile paved river trail near our previous home, are actually greener and more rugged than any of the trail paths in the more rural area where we previously lived.  The change was so stark that I even traded in my top of the line (for me) road bike for a hybrid which I am enjoying so much more.  I feel much more comfortable on the new bike as I cut sharp corners, climb steep heels and catch some air over bumps along the way.  All this bike needs is a banana seat and some fringe from the handle bars, and I'll feel seven all over again.

My childhood bike that still resides at my parents' home

Another difference is that the trails here connect a large number of very sophisticated parks where the sounds of young children giggling on swings or slides or the thumping sounds of teens playing basketball can be heard over my Pandora music.  Oh how I wish we had lived here when the children were younger with so many nice parks scattered all over the city.

The largest difference between the trails here and those in the country are the bridges.  In the country, shaky, wooden planked bridges span across swamps, marshes, or streams.   Here, enormous truss bridges with bright metallic ornamentation cross major interstates.

View from my bike as I cross the bridge

The contrast between the rugged, wooded bike paths and these urban bridges with the swooshing sounds of cars and trucks zooming underneath is overwhelming, and I feel nervous every time I cross those bridges.  I wondered how my more cautious, 6-year-old, who only started feeling comfortable on a 2-wheeled bike this summer, would feel crossing that bridge if his 40 something sports enthusiast mama gets nervous on it.  He took it slowly but seemed much less nervous than I did my first time crossing it.

Kids' first trip across the bridge

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While our son waits for any of his four front teeth to appear, our daughter has been losing teeth again. She lost her ninth tooth as soon as we returned home from attending my uncle's funeral last weekend.  She immediately began complaining about how odd her mouth feels with the new gap inside of it.  So I  told her that whenever she notices that gap in her mouth, she should pray for my aunt who has experienced a huge loss now that her husband has passed, and like my daughter's mouth, our family will not feel the same with this new gap in it. But praise God that as our girl's temporary tooth will be replaced with a permanent one, my uncle's temporal body on this earth will be replaced with a new glorified body that will last forever. While he spent most of his years on earth looking only through one eye following a bad accident, he will gaze upon our Lord through two eyes that see perfectly.
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Speaking of teeth, I had to get a filling replaced in one of my teeth last week.  I took my home schooled son with me, and he tried to encourage me by saying, "Sometimes you just have to face the facts, Mom."

Then while the dentist was drilling feverishly, he repeatedly cried, "Mom! I'm done with my writing and grammar! Can I watch TV now?"...as if I could have said anything in that condition.
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later that evening, that same 6-year-old who implored us to let him wear an afro to my uncle's funeral (my uncle would have loved it) and while at the funeral, insisted that his dad and I buy burial plots ASAP in case we die tonight (since, as he says, we need to be prepared for death both spiritually and logistically), lit candles so we could eat dinner with ambiance. He's a hip, romantic planner. What more could any girl want? 
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The following day during our homeschooling time, I gave my son a science assignment which required him to name, describe, and classify animals found in the desert. He wailed, moaned, & lamented with a few false tears thrown in for good measure. I pressed with words similar to those found in Dr. Seuss' classic book, Green Eggs and Ham:

"You do not like them.
SO you say.
Try them! Try them! And you may.
Try them and you may I say."

As soon as he began reading, his eyes grew bright, and he excitedly told me every amazing detail and feature about every animal he discovered. He loved every minute of his study despite his little tantrum. And though he did not say it, he was probably thinking:

"I do so like
this science work!
Thank you!
Thank you,
Mom's no jerk!" 

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The images my son's innocent comments evoke put me in stitches sometimes. My son noticed a new sports top in my room and asked about the zipper across the chest. I explained that the pocket could hold keys, gel packs, or even a phone while I'm exercising. Having recently grown interested in tennis now that we live next to some tennis courts, he asked, "Can you fit tennis balls inside it?"

There was a time during my early teen years, when I wished I could have worn two tennis balls there and gotten away with it.
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Now that our girl has to wear stiff dressy uniforms for school every day, I assumed this super active, outdoorsy girl would choose casual, ultra-comfortable clothing for non-school hours. Instead, she has been opting for sequins and ruffles at bedtime instead of her comfy pajamas.

She sure does seem to be growing up all of a sudden.

Deluge

What word best describes the summer of 2013 for our little family?  There are many words that come to mind, but lately, "deluge" seems most fitting.

Our area has had one of the wettest summers in history.  Rain is not conducive to building a house.  One day of rain sets lot grading back at least two days.  So, here we are two months after we signed our initial contract to build the house, and the lot still hasn't been graded.  Well..we thought we had it ready for footings to be poured until our builder quit.  When a new manager came in to take over the construction, he decided to totally regrade the entire lot taking down even more trees (humph!) and lowering the elevation another few feet.  Is his goal to put our house in a pit?   Whatever the case, he seems to know more about this business than we do, as this house is only the third one I've built, so we are trying to trust him.  So after two very frustrating and hugely expensive months of renting, we continue to wait for construction to commence, and considering that rain has been pouring down again ever since our last conversation with the builder last week, my fickle emotions feel as if we will be waiting forever.  Looking forward to the new house is what keeps me content in this unsettled, crowded, dumpy apartment, so I keep trying to keep my eyes on the prize, having faith that some day we will reach it even though our eyes have seen little to no progress thus far. 

This ordeal with the house has me pondering spiritual parallels.  God never promises us an easy life, and chances are, that if life is nothing but smooth sailing, then we aren't in God's will.  If we are doing kingdom work for God's glory, Satan will attack us, but if we are merely lukewarm, living for ourselves instead of the kingdom of God, Satan isn't as likely to waste his time messing with us, for the enemy's time isn't infinite like God's is.

Matthew 10:22-23a (NIV)

²² You will be hated by everyone because of me, but the one who stands firm to the end will be saved. ²³ When you are persecuted in one place, flee to another....

For many, life isn't just hard, it's unbearable.  We must not forget that this life is like the blink of an eye compared to the glorious eternity that awaits us.   When we fix our eyes on Christ and His promises, earthly trials seem trivial, and we find His strength to carry us through any hardship.

2 Corinthians 4:17-18 (NIV)

¹⁷ For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. ¹⁸ So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.

We can press on through six or more months of rough, unsettled living in an old apartment with many problems and continue waiting somewhat patiently for the earthly house we can only see in our minds but not with our eyes because of the hope we have through faith that a better, long term home will eventually be ours.  Similarly, we can endure whatever troubles come our way in this life because we have hope in what we cannot see but believe in our hearts to be true.  Jesus is preparing a home for us with God in heaven.  And whatever house we build on earth is like a spec of dust that gets tossed by the wind compared to our eternal home in heaven.  This world, or anything in it, is NOT MY HOME!

John 14:1-3 (NIV)

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you?  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.

When delays keep multiplying, however, and my confidence in the builder wavers, the harder it is to find contentment in this temporary dwelling which has endured not only rain torrents outside, but also a deluge of sorts inside.  The leak I noticed during my first walk-through inspection only got worse despite my daily visits to the property management office to remind them that their investment in this apartment building is washing away like the tide with each passing day during which they fail to remedy the situation.  As a spiritual parallel, when we stop trusting our heavenly Father, Creator of all things, frustrating floods will wash away contentment in this life until we renew our faith in the perfect Builder and Restorer of all things.

The rain sent this frog to our patio in search of dry shelter, but none could be found.

The property management company sent out a pest control company to treat the bugs, but the pest control guys told me exactly what I had been telling property management, "The bugs won't go away until the water stops pouring into the unit from upstairs."

I found that clothes were taking 4-6 hours to dry in this apartment compared to an hour in our previous home.  So, I took photographs of the dryer vents and pointed out the violation of fire code. They sent a duct cleaning company out here to clear the vents and then insisted that the clogged vents were causing the leak? Say what?

Spiritually, are we addressing the root cause (a sinful heart) of our problems, or are we only cleaning up the outside, masking the symptoms and denying the core issue?

After taking more photos of the flooded bathroom and noting that the carpet in the adjoining bedroom where our daughter sleeps was also soaked, the property managers finally agreed to investigate the problem further.  They sent a plumber, and I encouraged him to inspect the AC unit and attached drains upstairs.  He noted that the AC unit was sitting in a tub of water but did nothing.

What do we do spiritually after identifying the root problem?  Do we confess, repent, and ask God for strength to overcome, or do we give up and do nothing?

So we continued collecting buckets of water and wiping up all the water that sloshed elsewhere along the walls and floor with my nicest towels (since I purged all my old ones before the move).  Every day I had to wash a load of towels, and we've had to keep everything up off the floor in the room where the carpet was getting drenched each day.  While folding all those extra towels I had to wash each day, water dripped on my head.  That constant dripping reminded me of Proverbs 19:13.

Proverbs 19:13

A foolish child is a father’s ruin, and a quarrelsome wife is like the constant dripping of a leaky roof.

Water began soaking the carpet in our daughter's room.

Three weeks after we moved in, the property managers raised our rent another $100 per month.  Yes, we are living in a swamp and paying double our previous mortgage for a house three times the size of this apartment, and they think we need to pay more.  It's a multifaceted deluge over here!

Thankfully, after three weeks, they did finally replace the dishwasher, and after 3.5 weeks, we finally got internet service, so at least those sources of frustration floods were adequately dammed. (Gift #366)  Four weeks later, property management, fearing that the Dept. of Health and some attorneys may soon be on their way over, sent a licensed AC repairman to stop the leak.  He cleared all the clogged drains, so the leaks finally stopped.  Then carpet cleaners arrived with high powered fans and microbial treatments to dry out the carpets and fight whatever mold and mildew dared to wash over us like a tidal wave.  Each of those fans sounded like jet engines taking off, so the noise robbed us all of sleep that night.

Then at last, the water deluge inside had abated, so we could wait with calmer hearts for the prize.  (Gift #367) But then while our daughter was giving our bunny yet another bath (cage living keeps his paws constantly dirty), the rabbit jumped out of the sink and hopped like a wild banshee all over the apartment.  One again, the floors were soaked, but by then we were pros at mopping and sopping, so we cleaned that mess up rather easily.

Another deluge has recently been soaking my heart in the form of periodic torrents of loneliness.  Moving to a new town where I hardly knew anyone and into an apartment with so many problems occupying my time removed frequent fellowship (except for our church activities) from my life for a time.  As we returned to homeschooling, I found my 6-year-old to be my only constant companion, and as gifted as he is in communicating with people of all ages, I longed for adult conversation.  Our life class at church was once filled with homeschooling families, but now, almost all of them send their kids to public school.  It's more challenging to find fellowship with women my age when I have a kid in tow and school work to complete.  My husband's job has been very demanding, with late nights, 7-day work weeks, and rare sightings of him only late at night after I return with the kids from all their busy extracurricular activities.  Perhaps some of my loneliness has stemmed from empathy and prayers for my aunt, who lost her husband last weekend after 48 years of marriage.  He died at a Hospice facility after years of fighting for his health.  He accepted Christ as his Lord and Savior less than two weeks before his death.  Praise God Almighty for the faithful pastor who courageously and patiently presented the gospel to him at a time when he was finally ready to receive it.  (Gift #368)  Loneliness was taking a toll.  But God is ever faithful, and He knows our needs before we even think to ask Him.  (Matthew 6:8)

Events transpired this past weekend to fill the hole in my heart at a time when I needed it most.  While I know it's selfish to put oneself in the center of anything, it did feel like God had orchestrated events on my calendar this weekend to speak to my need.  He is so faithful!  On Friday, some friends invited me to a Girls Night Out to celebrate two ladies' birthdays. (Gift #369) We laughed, ate, giggled, talked, traveled back to one gal's home to talk some more and feast on some homemade birthday cake (the same recipe my late Maw-Maw made for me on my birthdays during my childhood).  Time with the girls was exactly what I needed that night even though I was reluctant to go wanting time with my husband whom I had rarely seen in weeks.

Birthday Girls

Girls Night Out (please excuse horrid "mural" in background)

Our daughter quickly found a new BFF (Bonnie) when we moved into the apartment.  This new friend spends a lot of time with us and feels like a family member, but I had not yet met her mother who travels much of the time for work.  While at the gym on Saturday after our fun GNO, my daughter and Bonnie interrupted me to say that Bonnie's parents were in the indoor pool and wanted to meet me. We had a wonderful chat and found much in common.  I also learned that they are considering homeschooling Bonnie next year, but had no idea where to start, so I gave them lots of encouragement and invited them over to borrow books, look at my schedule, and get information on how to get started.  It's such a joy to help parents in that way since educational methods are such a fascination of mine.  She came over today to borrow some books.  I pray the best for their homeschooling adventure, and I'm excited to have found a new neighborhood friend.  (Gift #370)

Saturday evening, a family we have known and loved for over 12 years drove to meet us in our new city and to take us out to dinner.  This mom friend is still faithful to God's calling to homeschool all of her children, so she understood some of the feelings I had experienced as we resumed homeschooling within our family.  We rarely get to see these friends anymore, so it was such a pleasure to spend time with them.  Finding friends who walk so closely with the Lord in a way that any time spent together is a time of sharpening one another in the faith  (Proverbs 27:17) is a rare and sacred gift for which I give God praise. (Gift #371)  My soul hungers for more friendships on that deep spiritually uplifting level as opposed to superficial relationships.  As an added bonus, my husband actually had the weekend off from work, so he could join us.  (Gift #372) It almost felt like a double date night were it not for the five kids tagging along behind us.

Family Night Out with Friends

Church was  spiritually refreshing as usual on Sunday, and I always enjoy watching my husband serve in music ministry and serving with him through deacon/deacon wives ministry.  As he waited for me to complete my service in the special needs ministry after the third service, I felt closer to him than I had in quite some time. (Gift #373)  I've always known that serving others blesses the served more than the one being served, and one more way it blesses the server is that it draws couples closer together as they both serve in a common ministry under the same vision. 

Later Sunday, I had yet another opportunity to replace loneliness with fellowship.  The parents at our daughter's new school are very engaged in school life and strive to draw families together. Two weeks into the school year, they had already planned a fellowship dinner for all the mothers of fourth graders at the school at a nice restaurant in a fabulous, sprawling shopping complex only five minutes from our lot. (Gift #374) I was thrilled to find yet another shopping/dining destination so close to our new house after living the last 12 years in the country far away from almost everything.  I did not know anyone there when I arrived, but they were friendly enough.  I could tell they all knew each other very well which made me feel better about the nature of friendships I could find there.  I just happened to sit next to and across from the mothers of the four different students from our daughter's class whom she mentions most often. I was very impressed by all of them and am excited to see parents so devoted to their children and committed to improving the school experience for everyone. Their positive energy and hilarious personalities lifted my spirits and gave me great hope for the future.  (Gift #375) It also inspired me to be as involved as I can at the school.

Whatever deluge may come, God is greater.  He has and will continue to part the seas as we take steps of faith while leaning wholly on Him and resting in His power and perfect promises.