Christel Oliphant is what we call an LLF. Lifelong friend.
It’s hard to remember when I didn’t know her. Miles separate us now. Still Christel proves the saying true: Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold.
Christel’s favorite post was an emotional one to write. Had to relive the shock and sadness I first felt the day the story unfolded, then try to convey it with words.
My husband and I traveled to the California wine country for a work conference last November. The things we do for his career.
One afternoon, our group had lunch at Kuleto Estate situated high on a steep, rocky hill. Looked out over vineyards afire with fall color. The sky seemed larger. Our feet lighter.
our view from Kuleto Estate
Dined outdoors on the side of the mountain at a long table. Ate vegetables picked fresh from the gardens that morning, delectable meats and desserts prepared by the resident chef. It was so perfect, I kept looking for Martha Stewart to step out from behind a tree.
Couldn’t help but think this must be what heaven is like. Friends, food, fresh air, mountains, vineyards, olive trees.
That day left me longing for a place where I’d be with everyone I loved, eating and talking and laughing. Savoring each moment, followed by ten thousand upon ten thousand more. Finally safe. Finally home.
On the way back to our bus, we passed a pen of poultry. It was there I came face to face with a most majestic creature.
Heaven is filled with laughter that satiates the soul. I just know it is.
The best of the now is a hint of what’s to come. An assurance of the place He has for us.
Meet me there. One day, meet me there.
He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. Revelation 21:4 NIV
The dealer couldn’t find White Diamond, but did acquire Dark Cherry. A red car. Maybe I could do this.
The day came. Dark Cherry arrived. “You’ll fall in love with it!” said the salesman.
I saw it. One word: burgundy.
“It looks burgundy,” I said.
“No, no,” said the salesman. “It’s red.”
“Yeah, I guess it’s more red than brown,” I said. “But it’s not true red.”
“Oh, that’s just dirt,” he said. “Let me have it washed and you’ll see it’s red.”
While we waited, I discussed the dilemma with my husband.
blue undertones
“You know I’m a Winter. Brownish-red is not my color. I would really feel more at home in gray.”
“Honey, Dark Cherry is your color,” said my husband. “It isn’t brown. It has blue undertones.”
I wanted a car. I didn’t want burgundy. Maybe it wasn’t burgundy. But it wasn’t red either.
“See?” said the salesman. “It’s red!”
Freshly-washed Dark Cherry glistened in the sunlight, casting out any hints of brown.
This is silly, I thought to myself. Grow up and be content with Dark Cherry. So I did.
Still, the whole color thing ate at me. Had I compromised too much? Gone along to get along? The stars were aligned: I was there, my husband was there, the car was there. How could I walk away?
In other news, one of my BFFs gave birth to her third child. She’d entered no man’s land—the first weeks of an infant’s life when you take care of baby and not much else.
Armed with my package wrapped in pink gingham, I drove to her house to deliver the gift. She cradled the baby while we caught up.
“And you got a car,” she said as she peeked out the window. “Look at the color!”
life is a bowl of cranberries
“Yeah,” I said. “I wanted gray but they didn’t have it.”
“It’s perfect,” she said. “I love that Cranberry.”
Yet another reason why she’s my BFF. How I’ll miss her when we move.
Hadn’t mentioned my angst over the intricacies of brown, burgundy and true red. Didn’t matter.
She saw the best and called it out. Named it. Reframed it. No more neutrals for me.
Now I’m quite taken with Cranberry. Decided to call her Mary. She has a bike rack for Cindy so the girls can be friends.
Cranberry Mary Momma Mobile. Watch out. Here she comes.
Like apples of gold in settings of silver is a ruling rightly given. Proverbs 25:11 NIV
Linger awhile longer and enjoy The Cranberries with me. Anyone else think it’s ironic a group called The Cranberries filmed a music video in black and white?
So do I. My husband and I have developed quite an appetite for Vietnamese food during our tour in St. Louis. From Mai Lee to Little Saigon Cafe, I’m convinced there’s an addictive ingredient in the recipes. Crave.
As we make plans to relocate to Wichita, my husband’s employer is sending us on a house-hunting trip. Momma Bear, Papa Bear and Baby Bear have different priorities for this excursion.
“Mom,” said the Cub, “we need lots of space.”
“What do you plan to do with lots of space?” I said.
“We need lots of space so we can have a soccer field,” he said. “Or a long-distance swimming pool.”
Papa Bear is also concerned about outdoor space. Give him room, lots of room. Don’t fence him in.
He grew up on a farm. You know what they say. You can take the boy off the farm, but you can’t take the farm out of the boy.
Problem is, Papa Bear already has a job and farming is not it. Nor is landscape gardening. Nor lawn mowing.
Hobby, yes. Phenomenal green thumb, that man. But full-time work? And don’t think for a minute Momma Bear is interested in taking the reigns of a Deere.
Search criteria for Papa Bear consists of lot size, proximity to the neighbors, and what backs up to the property. Heaven forbid we back up to another house.
cubs sculpture, as seen at the National Zoo
“Here’s one,” he said as we perused real estate sites, “and we wouldn’t have to worry about anyone building behind us.”
“Why’s that?” I said.
“See this big field behind the property on the map?” he said. “It’s a cemetery.”
Momma Bear looked up to see if he was serious. He was. Dead serious. She huffed a low growl under her breath.
“What else have you found?” she said.
Papa Bear cracked a smile. “So living next to a cemetery is out of the question?”
“Completely.” Grrr.
Momma Bear’s main concerns are for the innards of the house. She would like an open floor plan so everyone can be together. She would like the heat to work in the winter and the air conditioner to work in the summer.
Enough room so every bear has his space, but not too much that she can’t clean up in a jiffy. A yard bigger than a postage stamp, but smaller than a park.
bear chair detail, as seen at the National Zoo
Our relocation agent has her work cut out looking for our just right.
One tidy, cozy, move-in-ready, little house on the prairie with a soccer field for a yard that doesn’t back up to another house or a cemetery.
Hibernating would be simpler. Any empty caves available in Sedgwick County?
Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. Ephesians 4:13 NIV
Sara designs awesome cards for awesome people. Featuring more than 600 designs, she customizes, prints and sells though her etsy shop.
