As our world becomes smaller so also can our hearts and minds—for the good, pulling us all together, and for the bad.

Fast forward several months: Bill and I moved from our view of a private lake surrounded by trees, dripping in wild wisteria, to rows of concrete apartment buildings. We exchanged Arkansas wildlife in our big backyard to having sheep graze as lawnmowers on the school grounds outside our front windows. 

Towering buildings stood tall before us. And it was there we established our new home. Everything in our suburb of Lisbon was eight minutes to something—the Strada Outlet, the school where I taught. We walked to church twice on Sundays, winding through breaks between buildings, past favorite restaurants, up and down hills with children playing in tiny corner playgrounds. 

When out and about, we drove past small yards with orange and lemon trees in full bloom, and it was January. From the window where I taught high school art and its history to high school students from most every continent, I watched a man, much like in a Van Gogh painting, till his garden. I’d point out to my students his tidy garden rows and the rows of clay tile roofs beyond him—perfect examples for the first element of art—line, I’d say. I’d talk perspective later in the semester—much like today–with perspective being vital not only to art but also to our truths.

I then pointed to our tidy gardener’s neighbor to the left, adding, “This is what my brain looks like sometimes–collecting everything for another day and never knowing how to really organize it all while I collect more.”

The gardener on the right is my goal.

The expanse of our world suddenly grew smaller. Dots on countries, US states and an ocean now connected to make lines crisscrossing a world map.

New friends from Brazil and Albania.

The negatives that can come when our world grows small:

We feel what we feel. Covid struck, then Bill’s accident. The pandemic made a negative impact on us all by breaking up our contact with others. We moved from Lisbon to Chicago for Bill’s physical therapy. The Chicago mayor ordered restrictions on travelers outside of the state. No family or friends could visit. I could only stand in the foyer when Bill went for his daily rehab sessions. Walking to grab supplies, I had no contact with others outside our apartment.

An easy pace is set as people flow past, eyes focused ahead. Even in the midst of a crowd, most must have felt invisible. I did. Many times I got lost in admiring Chicago’s skyscrapers, created by brilliant architects who had dreams to reach for the sky. Many met those dreams. 

Are we?

Family and friends couldn’t visit because of Chicago’s COVID tough restrictions. As a small town girl, I now knew no one.Yet, one always has an awareness of people walking about, driving by in cars and buses, creating noises and hubbub that come with any big city. 

Within this city section called Streeterville, I can say I strolled between thin ornamental trees with flower boxes freshly filled each season. A bit of beauty, only to be hit with reality whenever a series of sirens blared, and fire trucks, ambulances and police cars raced past me. I couldn’t help but imagine others’ traumas on the end of the line. In just seconds, one happening tipped their world. On my walks to get groceries, fire engines roared past. A strong welling up of tears besieged me. While I stood masked at a crosswalk surrounded by strangers, I cried for people I didn’t know.

When smallness loses light,

We have to decide what we’re going to do about it.

I once read in a magazine’s Q&A column:

Q: Why do I get so emotional just watching the evening news?

A: There may be deeper issues you’ve yet to deal with.

Isn’t it those very issues that develop us to be deeper and stronger or embittered and brittle?  

We can’t ignore their power, forcing us to face our pain and what causes it. 

So I had to decide to learn another layer of life, going deeper

Once moved, we received a message from our new Portugal friend, Miriam, about how she was sorry we were experiencing a dream ending. 

I thought about its impact. When a dream ends … what do you do?

I was reminded, reaching back decades those times it seemed like a dream had ended. Those events and the pain wisened me to overcome the challenges. God has never failed me.

So many are afraid of being judged if their lives aren’t Instagram perfect. Why is it we’ve maintained those defining walls, the ones that try to separate the broken from the unbroken?

The School of Life—Do we get extra credit in continuing education?

When our minds turn inward:

After we moved to Little Rock, after four moves in eight months, I had a few weeks of exhaustion. Finally in a place I could call our home, I found myself resting and restoring, then becoming numb and apathetic. My mind began roaming with grievances of others from long ago injustices.

While out on a walk one afternoon, I had a reckoning of how petty and destructive those thoughts were and how small my life was becoming because of this mindset. 

For two weeks I read Romans 8:18-39 daily, absorbing and absorbing some more.

The flickering of the morning sun slipped through the window blinds this morning, slits of space allowed slices of light. 

We are each reckoning with our new reality. When the time comes, we begin to move beyond the walls of isolation and dream again.

Our hearts follow suit.

Light alters the shapes and forms of everything it rests upon.

With it we have a new perspective. 

Light reflects more light.

Light dances.

And so must we. 

Quick Update on Bill

Bill is continuing with his daily exercises and works with a physical therapist twice a week. He uses his upper leg muscles to direct the lower part of his legs and feet when he exercises on the elliptical trainer and parallel bars. He’s so disciplined.

Last month he developed some blood clots in his lungs and got to spend some time at the hospital. The doctor wanted him admitted to the ICU unit, but there were no rooms because of Covid patients. The ICU team had to treat him from the ER. How I appreciate those who continually go the extra mile, who are working diligently to get us through this pandemic. 

He is strong again. He looks good and is in good spirits.

I apologize my updates are sketchy for those who ask. Bill is such a private person, and I want to respect that. However, your thoughts and prayers mean so much to us. It’s the intangibility of faith that leads us to the tangible. We get to be even more patient during delays of gratification. Trials build faith and teach us the beauty of dropping our petty ways, thinking larger, and letting our world grow smaller in good ways … if we so choose to focus.

Our new kitten, Matisse.

After needing to leave Einstein in Lisbon, I missed his companionship and unconditional love. He miraculously found a great home in Portugal with a couple who love him. (Einstein’s stories one and two are here and here.)

Matisse proves to be full of personality and loves us both and almost everyone who walks in the door!

When you don’t know who you are and then you do.

Beauty tip of the day: Set beauty before you.

When I had a yard, I was always cutting flowers to distribute around our house and share with others. I was missing that. Recently I received a beautiful sunflower arrangement from Amy that brightened the room and me. With the lovely vase as a keepsake needing new flowers, I bought a $10 bouquet at Kroger’s and divided them for enjoyment on a bookcase, my bedside table and beside my bathroom sink. A $6 bouquet of roses found its home in the kitchen. Nature’s beauty is a gift for us to breathe in and expand. Simple things make a difference.

Life tip of the day: Help mend our world.

How often have I sat in a board or committee meeting and listened to others offer bandwagon stances. Don’t get me wrong, I have my stances. But what always seems ludicrous is how in our trying to solve a problem, those two opposite proposals had their positives and negatives. Why aren’t we listening more and searching together for ways to merge positive viable solutions in our government, schools, economy, everything?

The following poem is one I have to read over and over, layer by layer, until it sinks in.

Say not the Struggle nought Availeth

BY ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH

Say not the struggle nought availeth, 

     The labour and the wounds are vain, 

The enemy faints not, nor faileth, 

     And as things have been they remain. 

If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars; 

     It may be, in yon smoke concealed, 

Your comrades chase e’en now the fliers,

     And, but for you, possess the field. 

For while the tired waves, vainly breaking 

     Seem here no painful inch to gain, 

Far back through creeks and inlets making, 

     Comes silent, flooding in, the main. 

And not by eastern windows only, 

     When daylight comes, comes in the light, 

In front the sun climbs slow, how slowly, 

     But westward, look, the land is bright.

Travel expands our world. Read a bit of our travels to Hell’s Canyon.

For this season, enjoy this article about ways to make this Thanksgiving gathering special. https://www.aymag.com/decorating-and-hosting-tips-for-thanksgiving/