Spring Has Sprung

Yesterday, Spring decided to make it's first appearance on Capitol Hill. It was a gorgeous day...one that beckons you out of bed earlier than usual...gives you the extra hop in your step...and gives you a glimpse of the warm days to come.

Living on Capitol Hill is like living in a mini-city. It is busy and chaotic at times, but on the weekends and evenings, it turns into a wonderful welcoming neighborhood. Can I just say, I love it!!!

I especially love Saturday mornings, grabbing a bagel and chai at the corner bakery, walking to Eastern Market to buy flowers and vegetables, and starring up at the townhouses...dreaming of moving in furniture, growing a garden, and sitting on the back patio drinking a margarita.

What Keeps Us Going

Easter is over...but the remnants of lamb and orzo are still in my frig. THis year, my older sister and her husband, and their adorable six-month-old daughter Cate, came to DC to visit over the holiday. My husband's sister and his brother's wife's sister (complicated, I know!) joined us for Easter dinner. We had a wonderful time talking over lamb, orzo with roasted vegetables, the famous Rotzell pineapple casserole (which we all agreed was not a "casserole" but rather a dessert--it is filled with butter, sugar, and bread pudding), and salad. Despite our different lives and paths, it was such a joy to see everyone interact during dinner.

After dinner, over dessert and drinks, the talk turned more political. Why is it that we always make it through dinner, but then the discussion turns edgy and heated? Maybe it is God's way of telling us to skip dessert and that last glass of wine. Anyway, with the Kentucky basketball game in the background, we discussed the role of government in our communities. Should government pick up the slack and come to the rescue of the poor? Or should it be the role of community organizations and churches? And of course, we discussed Terri Schiavo.

The pastor at our church brought up the point that death is all around us this Easter. A wonderful man who attended our church and served as a surrogate father for one of great friends in DC just passed away, our pastor's mother passed away last week, the Pope is on the edge, and the world is watching the battle for Terri's life.

We are so blessed to have a risen Lord in the midst of all this "death."

It was hard to go back to work today, after taking Monday off. I was ready to get back to "work" but I was not prepared to step back into the darkness, stress, and un-justice that so often pervades politics. However, this Easter once again reminded me of our EVERLASTING FATHER....to quote a book that my mom used to read to me growing up, "I just can't wait until next year."

I was also reminded of one of my favorite hymns, "I am the Bread of Life." My mother-in-law often quotes books and beautiful scripture in her blog http://beccaandbella.blogspot.com/. Although I can't recall words that well, I am willing to try....

I am the bread of life,
Those who come to me shall not hunger,
Those who believe in me shall not thirst
No one can come to me
Unless the Father draw them.

And I will raise him up,
And I will raise him up
And I will raise him up
On the last day

I am the resurection
I am the life,
If you believe in me,
Even though you die,
You shall live forever.

Historic Bethlehem

The past two days I have been attending a staff retreat in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania. I was completely blown away by the city. Since I knew that it was an old steel town, I was not expecting much. However, the town took me by suprise and I got much more out of my retreat than could ever be expected.

The architecture in the city is beautiful, and the history is rich. The Moravians made the city what it is, and their flavor still exists. We toured many of the old Moravian buildings and cemeteries--impressive works.

Many of Bethlehem's old buildings and factories have been remodeled into artist lofts, striking a clash of old and new.

But in the background of it all--towering above the Moravian churches, the Lehigh River, the old stone blacksmith shop, and the cobblestone streets, are the furnaces of Bethlehem Steel.

My grandfather worked for Bethlehem Steel for what I recall his entire working career. My grandfather was a foreman for Bethlehem Steel, overseeing work that went on in their 8 miles of facilities. Bethlehem Steel brought an era of boom to the city, creating the steel that was used for the Golden Gate Bridge and the majority of the sky scrapers in New York City. Bethlehem Steel has since gone bankrupt, but the imprint that they left on the city, and on the life of my grandfather, grandmother, and father is one of a thriving industry, promise, and that hard work pays off.

I don't remember much of my grandfather now, but I do remember that he used to walk three miles or more every morning to get the paper, that he had an infectious smile, and that he taught my father, who in turn taught, me about the value of hard work. That is something that I will never be able to thank either of them for enough. It is something that not many people are privileged to grow up being taught--that our time on this earth is precious and we should use our time wisely, practically, and to the benefit of our creator.

Thank you Pop Pop, and thank you Dad.

Ocean Park

I must admit, this blog is not the first time that I put my writing skills on the line. One summer, I was too young to remember what year it was, I wrote a poem and crafted a bookmark for a contest at the Ocean Park Library in Maine. My family vacationed in Ocean Park every summer and it holds sooo many memories for me. Well, I happened to win the contest, and I got to pick any book out of the library to keep for my own. Maybe that started my love affair with books.

You know, someone told me once that books should be treated as furniture and therefore you should always buy hardback.

Anyway, back to my story...I am not sure if it was the picture that was taken of me and my "favorite book" on the steps of the library above for all of Ocean Park to see, or it was the fact that I beat both my sister, Sally and her friend, Kristen (both of which were older and in that "too cool" phase), but I think that was my first very proud moment. Of course there were many tumbles and falls that followed that heavenly day, but I like to think that Ocean Park only remembers my tan, smile, and love for root beer floats at the Soda Fountain. Oh- and of course my masterful poetic strokes of the crayon.

Looking Back...Heading Forward

In the summers growing up, our yard in Havertown, Pennsylvania was full of edible treats. Onion grass, basil, juicy tomatoes, crunchy green beans, and rhubarb. There was something about the rhubarb plant that I never quite understood. We did nothing to tend to it throughout the year. Yet every summer there it was, sprouting up from the tough grass in our suburban yard. My mother would use that rhubarb to make a very tart rhubarb strawberry pie. I was never a cake lover and therefore waited all year for the tasty pie that only went down easily with the sweet strawberries and a dollup of coolwhip on top.

My family is just as hearty and steady as a rhubarb plant. I never did much tending to my mom, dad, four sisters, and one brother growing up...in some cases I think I even tried to cut the roots and drench the soil hoping that they would shrivel up.

However, there they are every year constantly loving me, praying for me, and they have truly become the summer of my life. They warm my days, sprinkle me with sunshine, and sparkle my life with stars and lightening bugs.

This blog will be a dedication to my family, a window for my "new" family, and a brave new step for my thoughts and words.