Archive for the ‘My Most Unforgettable People’ Category
Happy Birthday, Papala!
Friday, January 27th, 20124.18 a.m.
Friday, January 20th, 2012t. t. s. c.
Just kicking the hell out of the devil. In the middle of the night.
Dear mamala- it is ok to talk bad about the enemy of our souls. xxoo
“Live your life and forget your age.”
Saturday, January 7th, 2012“Live your life and forget your age.” -Norman Vincent Peale
This is what women do: they criticize their looks and age and weight and everything about themselves all.the.time. Don’t ask me how I know.
When I first saw this huge image pop up in a sneak-preview of the wedding photos, I thought, “Well there are the bags under my eyes. I was still in my sweats. I didn’t have my mascara on” and etc. Dumb. I know. Very vain.
My mom saw it and said to me “Who is that old woman with all those wrinkles?” She is 73 and has yet to recognize her loveliness. Tredessa had already told me that she loved the intensity of the lines on her grandma’s face, the clearness of her features.
And all I could think in response to my mom was, “I so want to be like that woman.” I love her! I love her vivaciousness and love for life and picture-taking and horses and her family and her encouraging ways and deep-felt love for people and the belief in the best of them all. And if the lines on her face were a type of braille, they would read of her unwavering belief in me and love no matter what since the day I was born – even before.
We attack ourselves. We speak badly of ourselves. We wouldn’t let first-graders talk about each other the way we talk about ourselves. Stupid. Waste. of. Time.
Me and my mamala…
I have her nose. I have her blue eyes. I even have two, deep, furrowed lines between my brows exactly like hers. And I wanna be just like her when I grow up. I do. She is the most beautiful to me.
Gifts from my mom and dad
Friday, December 9th, 2011I do sorta love Judge Judy, but I am seeing something on it that makes me sad. Almost all the cases begin thus:
This is so and so and she is suing her ex-boyfriend or ex-husband or ex-best friend or sister or roommate or cousin or son for {usually not paying back a loan} or wrecking the car or whatever.
And then at the end of the show, they have both parties answering questions you don’t hear, but the most obviously implied question is “What have you learned from this experience?” And the answers are always horrible inner vows like “To never trust a friend” or “Never help a family member out,” things like that. It is really sad because those are such enemy-of-our-soul-induced ideas. Makes me sad to see people lose vulnerability because without it, you can never get into the deep messy love and beautiful entanglements that make life rich.
Every kid has probably had those moments growing up when they declared inwardly, if not out loud, “I will never be like my parents. I will do this better.” I know I had those thoughts and just knew I had life all figured out. And so in some things, I ventured a different direction, but ohmygoodness, the Word of God is so true on the issue of it all and I am sure Jesus was in heaven shaking His head and hoping I would read-the-red in Matthew 7 to understand how my own judgements would act as boomerangs. How exposed I am now when I realize that the things I judge most harshly are so exposing me of my own it-takes-one-to-know-one bleh (Romans 2). Yes, let’s just call it “bleh” and leave it at that.
So while at one time I figured I could do it all better, like the old adage goes, the older I get the smarter my parents get applies. And I adore them both with such a zeal that if they were not my parents I would be trying to figure out how to get close to them anyway. And I was thinking how, as I grow up more (still not as mature as I thought I would be by this age), these are the traits and behaviors they possess that I still hope to master, so people will say, “She is just like her mom and dad.”
12 Things I want to learn from my parents for the 12 days of Christmas
From my mom – here are ways I want to learn to be like her.
1// I want to keep short accounts. Her accounts are soooooo short. She would laugh and say it is because her memory is bad, but that isn’t true at all. When she is wronged, she lets it go. This has been a blessing to my dad for sure. She honestly, really and truly believes the best of everyone, even if and when they give her good reasons not to.
2// The joy of a clear conscience. My mom has just never had a sin consciousness. She didn’t see the devil or evil around any corner which probably explains why, when I was four, she made the most adorable home-sewn witch costume and took me trick-or-treating. She was excited to make it a day of evangelizing and I had to sing “Jesus Loves Me” before I could accept the treat. And she felt no condemnation. And later, when she was told Halloween was evil, she relented and got churchy about it, too, but her conscience and heart were free from the finger-pointing assault of the enemy.
3// She loves animals. She can actually talk to the animals and understand their hearts. She has dominion like Adam had, I think, an intuitive understanding of even why they were created. And so God trusts her with them. And when she was 55, my parents moved to Ohio and she became an award-winning horse photographer. They horses responded to her because they knew her gift was from God. All creation worships Him, you know. All creatures of our God and King….
4// She carries the distinctly feminine trait of brooding over her family. That is God-given and when you need some one to agonize over you for deep things, open-wounds or battle scars, you need a spiritual momma who will carry it and keep the issue alive before the throne until the issue is settled on earth as it is in heaven. You aren’t looking for some one who will just say “Oh yes, I will pray” and then may or may not. When my momma says she will pray, she will. She is. I want the people I love to know they have that from me, too.
5// Health and vigor. My mom has always run circles around me in energy levels. She has never dwelled on her health, per se, but made every laundry day an opportunity to stay in shape by running up and down the stairs as fast as she could with laundry baskets in hand right up to 3 or 4 years ago when a major surgery came with doctor’s instructions to quit that. When my kids were in the skanking dance phase during their high school years, she would join right in with them. She still loves horseshoes and loved having Wrex teach her more about roping cattle just a couple years back. If there is a game to be played – handball, tennis, or baseball or whatever, my mom is still up for it! God has blessed her with good health and I would love to be more like her in this.
6// My mom is my biggest cheerleader, a wonderful encourager. My mom is as sweet and kind and youthful in her thoughts as my little granddaughters. Everything before her is hopeful. And fun. And good. And she loves to laugh and laughs easy. And draw pictures and serve others and give hugs and cheer you on and encourage you. I cry every-time I hear the country song with the line, “And when the day is through my momma’s still my biggest fan…” because she is and I want to be that kind of encourager.
From my dad. Here are ways I want to be like him.
7// Thorough and courageous. A man who values the highest of standards, my dad does not doing anything half-heartedly or carelessly. If you’re going to do it, you may as well do it very well. And though the pain of perfectionism has assailed him (and me) sometimes throughout life, I love knowing that anything he puts his hand to will be done with forethought and done well. Everything doesn’t always turn out to his high standards, but he is never afraid to take the dive into the deep end.
8// Healthy and committed to it. My dad, much like the Christians of the day back then, lived, at leasst sub-consciously, on the scriptural phrase “bodily exercise profiteth little.” I think we can all now agree that Paul wasn’t saying not to attend to the temple, but while I was growing up, while he pastored his heart out and attended to all things spiritual, health concerns were just not even considered. Later in life, maybe around my current age, he started realizing the importance of taking care of himself. He started walking and running and lifting weights and eating with much greater care, which has really been more of a job for my mom (he-he). But once he set his mind to it, he has stayed absolutely focused, which was why 2 heart attacks out of nowhere last year shocked us all. His numbers were right, his weight was right and his activity level was good. I think he faced some momentary discouragement about it, but he stays active now. He does not let a day go by without getting out and doing something healthy. And I neeeeeeeed to take a cue here. And hopefully Dave will be my version of my mom and do all the great healthy cooking for me. Haha!
9// Snazzy dresser. Oh, he was beautiful as a young man. Even as a little girl, I thought he was the handsome-est. I loved how he’d carefully choose his suits for a conference. My mom starched the ever-loving-life out of those collars. He remains meticulously attentive to neatness and good grooming. And nice clothes.
10// Man of prayer. For all of my life, my dad got up early and spends a couple of hours in prayer and worship. When I go to visit them, I hear him in the wee hours, still. He has never neglected his time alone with the Lord. I want God to know how I value that time, too.
11// “I am blessed to have work.” My dad finally just retired last month, except not, because he will never retire. He believes in work and the quotation I placed there, from the movie “Return to Me” truly is a life’s goal for him. He is “retired” but looking for work while he is there, providing a simpler life for my mom. He will mentor and preach and make hospital calls and keep on pastoring to the end. And while I, like him, have struggled with work addiction, I think we both are learning to be wholehearted in what we do, blessed to have something to put our hands to, but not making it an idol that completely destroys us. I love that he is about to turn 73 and he is still letting the Lord train him in these things.
12// Changed. I love in the movie “Field of Dreams” when Kevin Costner realizes that there had been this younger, fresher version of his dad that he never knew. He begins to see that he had only experienced the more “broken-down” version of a man who’d had dreams dashed and life’s burdens and how at one time, his dad had been just like him. In 1995, my dad and I started talking for the first time ever, really. And we have been growing together since, understanding developing, love intensifying. In 2009, I think, in January, he just came and said, “I want to be sure I have given you everything you need. Are there questions I should answer? Are there hurts to be mended? ” And he just opened himself up, gave me his shoulders to roll my burdens onto, just in case he had caused them. He didn’t want to leave them in my heart unattended. I couldn’t even come up with anything, because the gift was so great, it covered anything and everything. Like love does. And I want to be able to do that, too. For all the times I loved, but couldn’t show it, and for all the times I failed my kids and hated myself for it. How it must have seemed to them, I think I understand, and yet, the enemy of their souls will use everything he can to taunt them and torment them their whole lives through if some one doesn’t stand in that gap. And I want to be changed into the image of Jesus so much, a reflection of Him alone, that I will have the same courage He did fueled by great love to die on the cross to my own self-protection and take back any of the hurts I have inflicted, to carry on my shoulders mis-communications and mis-understandings so their hearts will be covered and protected all the way to end, even after I am gone. Like love does.
Still unwrapping the gifts that are my mamala and papala.
Patrice’s Pantry
Tuesday, November 29th, 2011My wonderful friend, Patrice Wilson, catered Tredessa’s wedding.
This is Patrice (my friend!!) a few hours before the wedding behind the photo booth. Yes, she was busy. But she stopped and let me snap her picture.
Here is what I love about Patrice doing the catering:
- She is a fantastic cook. She is always coming up with new ideas and delsicious dishes and wowing us.
- She brings peace. Patrice is one of those people who doesn’t get riled. I am driven and freaking out at big events. She is the calm saying, “It will all work out.” She is right everytime.
- She can cook fancy or comfort or casual or elegant or anywhere in between.
- She is so servant-hearted.
- But best of all? She is Holy-Spirit-gifted with hospitality. So not only does she provide the spread, she warmly feeds your soul, too. When I started wrokig at New Hope almost 8 years ago now, she was one of the first people I noticed because hospitality and welcome just oozed from her. And she fed us good stuff. And I have loved her like crazy ever since.
And you? Should hire Patrice for your next party, big or small.
You’ll get great food, awesome service and peace for the day, all included in the price!
The wedding menu, in case you are wondering:
A delicious garden salad – a tomato/cucumber salad – hot rolls and butter – tilapia in a lemon-butter sauce – rice pilaf – chicken cordon-bleu – whipped potatoes – beef wellington, a tender steak with mushrooms in a flaky pastry wrap – garlic green beans – rotini with steamed vegetables in garlic butter – coffee – tea – water. Mmmmmmm……
THANK-YOU, Tricie. Love you. Hugs and kisses to Linda. And Jack, too!
The Bride.
Saturday, November 12th, 2011The wedding is 2 weeks away. Tredessa will marry. She, pure as the driven snow, will meet Ryan at the end of a 30-foot aisle and she will make promises. And if you know Tredessa, you understand that she will make them solemnly, with great care and that she will not have entered in lightly.
Making the house ready for company for the festivities, I re-arrange the furniture in her old room. I have placed the bed where she kept hers the years she was here. For a moment I close my eyes and I recall the perfect white-and-navy, tailored room. There was a star-shaped metal lantern suspended exactly 12″ from the window, perfectly centered. Shelves lined with books and photos, a place for everything and everything in its’ place.
As meticulous as she is, you might be surprised if you learned how many things she loves, how many interests she has: art, music, reading, learning, the Word, love and romance. She is a veritable walking “imdb,” able to not only quotes lines from hundreds of movies, but also possesses the ability to “name that actor,” any actor and tell you every major role they have ever played. She and her dad used to play their own 6-degrees-to-Kevin-Bacon before it was a real game. And she loves children (dotes on her nieces and nephews, especially) and missions work and has traveled and taught and ministered across the nations. Yes, Tre is multi-faceted and multi-talented.
For a minute or two, I allow myself the luxury of remembering Tredessa in this house, a young girl becoming a woman. I recall her consecration to Christ and her refusal to “date around” to find the man God would send. She had decided on her own that it was a waste of good emotion to fall in and out of love and she would have no part of it. She was ever and always waiting for the “one.” This lucky “one” would get all of her love, all the depth and breadth and width of it (Lucky Ryan!). Meanwhile, she brought goodness and godliness into this house and our family.
She was the third of our children. She had the long-Averi-type hair and a raspy voice. When we’d get a drink for her and her sisters to share at a drive-through, little 3-year-old Tredessa would ask, “Can I be in charge of the drink, daddy?” Already showing she was willing to carry the responsibility of a big task, already being groomed by God to lead a massive music festival one day.
But in this house, 9 years ago, she was finding her way, discovering God’s plan for her life. And in that room, she was seeking Him for all she was worth. And loud? Oh my. Her room and the bathroom and hallways were always pulsing with amplified praise! There was life, lots of life. And lots of long, dark hair everywhere. And a bathroom full of girl products.
Intimate Stranger
Then today, as I sat remembering, I recalled a scene so distinct it seems yesterday – truly as if it were. just. yesterday. Yet, it was also so common it could have been one of any number of days. Dave and I had been out, perhaps grocery shopping, on a fall day. Tredessa’s car was in the driveway so I knew she was home, but I didn’t see her. There was music coming from her room. When I went upstairs, I peeked through the door, which was slightly ajar. She had the curtains drawn so the room was dark. She was on the floor worshipping the Lord, her hands upturned, tears streaming down her face ~
I lift my eyes to you Eyes that have seen a thing or two Who is this stranger in my life?I lift my hands to you Hands that have carried what is true Intimate stranger be my life
And my heart swelled in the moment, watching her so unaware, just loving her Savior, consecrating anew. And she sang along with Rita Springer,
Jesus I love you Jesus I adore, I adore You Jesus you still have my affection and my song will be “I love you”And I cried in the memory and thought how blessed that room is. And in all the years she waited, Dessa did not wait alone. She has been a faithful bride to Christ. And she loved Him. And He has loved her back.
And in two weeks, she will join Ryan at an altar. And God will be a witness and He, like me I bet, will be remembering all the lovely songs she has sang to Him and will be thinking what a blessed man Ryan is to get her.
Tre-Tre, you are going to be the most ravishing bride, both inside and out. The most.
Happy Birthday to “our Jovanie”
Monday, October 31st, 2011Rocky found a wife.
One boy. One chance to get the right woman. So many {{sooooo many}} volunteers for the position. Haha. But he looked around and saw Jovan, his “friend.” And he is a smart kid. He knew a good woman when he saw her. And he chose well. And we are so proud of him for loving her and marrying her. And we are so grateful she loves him back with such zeal and dedicated fervor. Together, they are creating one of the most beautiful families you will ever see. Rocky + Jovan = Averi (3) and Amelie Belle (1 1/2) for now…but sweet d-i-l promises me there will be more.
A great addition to the fam
Jovan comes from 2 gorgeous parents (both with amazing hair and over-the-top good looks). Italians from New York. And 2 gorgeous sisters. She comes from fervent Jesus followers and prayer warriors. She comes from good people. And she is proof to us that God loves us. He blessed us so.
Light-reflector
Jovan sometimes models for www.maydae.com
Happy-happy-happy Birthday, Jovanie. On an All Hallow’d Eve’ so long ago, a day usually draped in black and night, a light was born. Twenty-five years ago today, to be exact, a reflector of the love of Jesus Christ was born and the world can never again be as dark as it once was. Shine on, sweet girl, godly woman, and gift-of-a-daughter you are.
Here is my birthday card for YOU.
I love you, girl! I hope you will sense how much in the words on this “card.” You have to look closely, but it is full of hope and love just for you! (click to see larger)
Forward Looking
Saturday, August 27th, 2011The boy.
Gavin comes over on a Saturday to help his grandpa with some car stuff. Looking spiffy in his army shirt while they enjoy their fast-food breakfasts, he watches the military channel with his grandpa and thinks maybe the army would be a good career. Although, he muses, being a fireman might be something he would like. He has been thinking about it and how to put out fires without inhaling the smoke that could kill you.
The need for speed.
Awhile later, he comes in to cool off from these hot days we are having. He carefully unpacks the by-permission-only tote full of his grandpa’s very old, original Hot Wheels set up and races some new cars they have just purchased to see if they are as good. He likes them a lot. Upon pondering the fact that his grandpa played with those very toys at his age, and then his Uncle Rocky and even his mom played with them and now him, he very thoughtfully sees ahead, “And someday I will give them to my kids.” There is a catch in my throat.
To him that seems a million years away, but I know the truth – that is just around the corner and yes, God willing, even Gavin’s children will play with those Hot Wheels on miles and miles of that old orange track.
Working on a Saturday.
“Nonna, come and see my office,” he tells me after we had watched 10 minutes of the Hurricane Irene coverage. He’d been explaining how he is good at science and is seriously thinking of a career as a weather-man, the kind who does reports from a helicopter. He has a computer and headset and he is feeding reports to a TV newsroom.
When his little cousin Averi arrives, he explains to her that he will be giving her reports from the helicopter while she sits at the news desk. She runs off at will talking on her little play cell phone and tells him she is too tired to work. He explains to her that she has to get back to work because he needs to give his weather report to some one. She is the perfect on-air personality. He keeps flying around and doing his thing, reporting on the very inclement weather somewhere in the world.
Wise beyond his years.
I ask Gavin and Averi if they’d like a snack. Averi checks the pantry for something sweet and wonders if I might have candy. I offer them tortilla chips as an alternative. But Gavin says, “I’d like a tomato, please, and the salt.” The kid is genius, truly. I slice a red, red beefsteak up for him and he enjoys it thoroughly. And this is undeniable proof that he came from me.
He carries heritage and our whole family history and probably all the quirks, too, and is carefully planning to pass it on in a rich, giving, hard-working, enthusiastic, imaginative life. He is better than I ever was, or will ever be.
Dave is happy because Gavin said, “Maybe I could spend the night so Grandpa and I can watch some Gilligan’s Island. Ugh. See what I mean?? That is a QUIRK!
Happy Anniversary to My Two Favs!
Friday, August 26th, 2011My goodness. Look what you have done.
Me and Dave and Tara and her Dave with Hunter (plus another on the way); Stephanie and Tristan and the little K-kids, Gavin, Guini, and Gemma; Tredessa and probably Ryan (shhhh, top secret); Rocky and Jovan and their girlies, Averi and Amelie; Stormie and her house.
Then there is Joe and Robin and Elise and now Matt; and Ross and Christiana and Corbin.
You’ve got Tim and Julie and their three great boys, Zach, and Seth and Caleb.
Tami and Gerron, the cool ones.
And Danny and Dawn and Jordan and Alise and new baby Brody; Jared and Austin and all who are to come.
5 kids, 15 grandkids and 7 greats so far. You’re on a roll!
Psalm 128
A Pilgrim Song
1-2 All you who fear God, how blessed you are! how happily you walk on his smooth straight road!
You worked hard and deserve all you’ve got coming.
Enjoy the blessing! Revel in the goodness!
3-4 Your wife will bear children as a vine bears grapes,
your household lush as a vineyard,
The children around your table
as fresh and promising as young olive shoots.
Stand in awe of God’s Yes.
Oh, how he blesses the one who fears God!
5-6 Enjoy the good life in Jerusalem
every day of your life.
And enjoy your grandchildren.
Peace to Israel! [The Message]
Moslander Reunion 2011 :: For the Mamala
Saturday, August 13th, 2011Arriving in Chicago on a Friday night. We get real Chicago-style pizza near Midway Airport where planes fly just above our heads. Near the south shore in Hobart there is a wedding rehearsal with the other half of the family. We will all gather for a celebration of a new marriage on Saturday.
BBQs at Dan and Dawn’s, corn-holing competitions, waffle-ball in the backyard. Even the matriarch and patriarch got into the games! There was the beach at Lake Michigan and driving the old neighborhood. Remember 4995 Roosevelt Place and all the baseball dings in the side of the garage from the 3 Moslander boys? Oh, they are still there. Our giant spruce is nearly dead now, but there is the house, the one we all finally lived in together before growing up and moving away began. Schools and businesses and streets we travelled. A Vienna Red Hot at The Village Shopping Center. I could still smell J C Penney’s even though it hasn’t been there now for almost 20 years. My first real-life job was there.
Once green-grass, established neighborhoods with distinct ethnic identities, houses where people had lived for over 40 years in a thriving steel-mill industry and could be counted upon , like clockwork to be edging their perfect lawns at exactly 6:15 pm every Wednesday evening now have the signs of transience at best. Bars on inhabited house windows, boarded up openings on empty, beautiful brick homes on hills. You can buy a million-dollar Denver-type home there for $15,000, cash. So says the hand-written cardboard sign. The city waits to be revived.
But we remember our life and times.
And the vivid colors come flooding back and our hearts are warm in the remembrance. These were good times and good places. This is where we finished growing up and where our parents had to let us go. There are altars in every direction, signs that point to God’s faithfulness in our lives.
Jordan and Alise start their life as husband and wife. We dance and eat and make merry. We see old friends and catch up on 30 or so years.
Joe and Robin and their family couldn’t come this year. We are remembering them always, bringing them up constantly, missing their presence…
The boys wrestle and play pool and work out to get pumped up. I give my mom a perm, which, though a bit kinky to begin with, of course, turns out just fine. I get lots of time with Averi & Amelie Belle and they are truly the “belles of the ball!”
Southlake Worship Center – home church
We got to attend church at Southlake on Sunday. So sweet. More on that later. But Pastor Sam Abbott and congregation welcomed us fully. Rocky and Tara led worship, with a small acoustic, all-family band. It was lovely.
Back to Chicago
On Tuesday there is a trip into the city: Navy Pier at Chicago. Then an authentic Puerto Rican meal to. die. for. at Tami and Gerron’s church, provided by some ladies of the congregation. Sitting on the front stoop at the church, we get a taste of a busy Chicago neighborhood. The sounds, the smells, the accents – colorful and unique. Tami and Gerron are perfect there.
Before we part we have our standard Family-Mass, a time of worship and fellowship around Him whose mark on our lives keeps us one, Jesus Christ. It is informal, it is easy. I wish it really could be captured in a way everyone could experience it. Somehow, we just blend. We just are :: The Moslanders. The descendants of Ross and Norma Moslander, 4 generations of us, declaring God’s faithfulness from one generation to another.
In all my dad pastored in Des Moines, the Davenport, then a short time in Cedar Rapids, and a short time in Robert, Louisiana before we got to Gary, Indiana. I kinda call it home and Dan and Dawn are still there. And with all of us there, it felt like home. But home really is where my mom and dad are.
These are just a few of the moments, especially dedicated to my mom.
HOME is wherever I’m with you.






















