What Stays Up

It's my birthday and I sit with a cup of tea and listen.
And I hear men and chain saws.
Ahhh, not what I was expecting either.
Six men to be exact with multiple chain saws going at once.
It is alarming, but necessary.
We have to clear the area for the garage/apartment that is going to be built. Something new is coming. But, oh, the trees.

When we first saw this house we were so excited about the possibility of buying it. I called my sister Amy and told her all about it. She was skeptical. "It sounds too expensive for such an old house."

So I took her to see it. She glanced at the house and then caught sight of the grove of trees behind it. Maple and beech and oak and locust. She hurried to check out the trees, calling back over her shoulder, "Buy it."

When Dave told me earlier this fall that the trees had to come down, I was stunned. I mean I knew we couldn't exactly drive through them to get to the garage, they're not the Redwoods, but still. Really? Down as in not up anymore? As in no more branches stretching beauty towards the sky?

Today is my birthday and I sit with a cup of tea and listen.
And I hear things changing.
It's alarming, but necessary.
New things are coming. But oh, I will miss the beauty of what was.

Several weeks ago, when I was driving home, I looked in the rear view mirror and I saw a hand.
Ahhh, not what I was expecting either.
A worship song was on the radio and my little daughter in the back seat was raising her hand in response.
There will always be change, always old things coming down to make room for new things, always years falling like leaves.
But by the grace of God, always that hand upraised, no matter what else comes down.
Always the upraised hand stretching beauty towards the sky.
By the grace of God, I want to always see the hand when I look in the rear view mirror.

My babies giving me presents. They're so generous with Ma Glo's money.

Dave was so sweet to me and gave me lovely gifts and a card with a pouty princess on it that looked just like me.