A quick snapshot of my life:
I'm sitting in my comfy green chair, cruising the web. Listening to music. Sippin' my coffee.
Ty and Griff are playing tennis on the Wii while Michael and Brody cheer them on. There is much laughing and jumping and screaming and high fiving. I am smiling.
Maggie and Gracie are playing a game on the internet. Laughing at each other. Getting along. I am relieved.
My packing for the beach is almost done. My laundry is done. My supper is laid out. Addison is coming for pot roast. Dane is house/cat/dog-sitting while we are gone. I am happy.
It's funny how different I feel today as opposed to Friday. I want to say that I wish every day was like today... but without the crappy days, I wouldn't really appreciate it. I guess I should just enjoy it. I am grateful.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Friday, August 07, 2009
Struggle
This is a post I wrote quite a while back but never published. Obviously the moment I was having has passed but it's still an honest expression of what was going on in me at the time. Thought I'd share...
Why the disconnect? Do I really give off the vibe of being unhappy and overwhelmed? Is it not okay to express pain in those moments when I do feel that way? Just because I have moments of feeling stressed out does not mean that I feel that way all the time.
I have noticed that when I feel the heaviness and weight of duty there is something askew. Something is out of line. I shouldn't feel burned out. I shouldn't grow weary of doing good. But there are times when it seems that there is no other option but to extend myself to the point of discomfort. That other people just expect more and more of me the more I give. That they give no thought to the fact that I am tired.
Where is that line? And what happens when there is no other person that I can confide in? When I feel absolutely alone in the struggle? What then?
Do I drop everything? Leave people hanging out to dry? Or maybe realize that I have complete freedom to fail. And people will be disappointed in me. And let down by me. And maybe even forced to take some of my responsibilities.
And all the while I recognize that I do all this to myself. I want others to help me, I expect it. But I don't always ask for it. And when I work and work and work and then forget something or don't do it right, it wounds me to have it pointed out. And it makes me angry because the person pointing it out usually is the one that always leaves it up to me to handle things. Tuesday morning quarterback.
Oh, my sinful, pride filled heart. It burns in my chest. It chokes the life out of my relationships. It isolates me and whispers evil in my ear.
Why the disconnect? Do I really give off the vibe of being unhappy and overwhelmed? Is it not okay to express pain in those moments when I do feel that way? Just because I have moments of feeling stressed out does not mean that I feel that way all the time.
I have noticed that when I feel the heaviness and weight of duty there is something askew. Something is out of line. I shouldn't feel burned out. I shouldn't grow weary of doing good. But there are times when it seems that there is no other option but to extend myself to the point of discomfort. That other people just expect more and more of me the more I give. That they give no thought to the fact that I am tired.
Where is that line? And what happens when there is no other person that I can confide in? When I feel absolutely alone in the struggle? What then?
Do I drop everything? Leave people hanging out to dry? Or maybe realize that I have complete freedom to fail. And people will be disappointed in me. And let down by me. And maybe even forced to take some of my responsibilities.
And all the while I recognize that I do all this to myself. I want others to help me, I expect it. But I don't always ask for it. And when I work and work and work and then forget something or don't do it right, it wounds me to have it pointed out. And it makes me angry because the person pointing it out usually is the one that always leaves it up to me to handle things. Tuesday morning quarterback.
Oh, my sinful, pride filled heart. It burns in my chest. It chokes the life out of my relationships. It isolates me and whispers evil in my ear.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
The Best Song
Chance Meeting by Act of Congress is my most favorite song ever. It has consistantly been at the top of my list for a year now. It's not that I listen to it repeatedly. It's just that every time I listen to it, it makes me feel... amazed. I love it. If a movie is ever made of my life, I want Chance Meeting playing in the background while they're telling the love story of Chris and me. And if I die I want it playing in the background as people watch a slide show of my life. I love it that much.
If you don't have it, it's on the Declaration CD by Act of Congress. You can order on iTunes.
If you don't have it, it's on the Declaration CD by Act of Congress. You can order on iTunes.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
What It Takes To Have Flawless, Happy Family Pictures... Like Me
We had our pictures made this morning. And yes, the ridiculously talented Jessica took them. Thanks for asking...
I decided at 9 o'clock last night that we would all wear white shirts. It sounds kind of hokey but nothing else looked right. So the girls and I loaded up and drove over to hell, where it seems that they have all kinds of white shirts on sale for like $5. So I was super happy. And my conscience only convulsed slightly. (I stomped it down.)
When I got home, Chris pointed out that the boys really needed haircuts. I wanted to protest but since it was obvious it was true, I had to nod sadly and then panic about when this was going to take place. It was, after all, 10 pm, Chris was leaving for work and pictures were scheduled for 10 am the next morning. Chris volunteered to do it the next morning. Tragedy averted. Almost.
I forget that Ty has major issues with haircuts. He hates the little hairs that get all over you. He claims that it is unbearably itchy and he breaks into man-sized whines. Seriously. So, Chris cut his hair at 9am and I spent until 10am trying to remove tiny little hairs from his shirt. It was super fun. I tried using tape and even threw it in the drier. I ended up holding the shirt and picking individual hairs out of the fabric. I couldn't bear the torment he was in.
The actual photo shoot was lovely. Aside from the broken glass on the sidewalk... did I mention that we were barefoot? And also aside from the hordes of mosquitos, that is. We sprayed each other with chemicals and even had to rub the bug spray on our faces. The attacks were brutal. My sister-in-law was especially targeted. Bless her heart.
But I'm sure the efforts we made will be worth it. And besides, Jessica is a miracle worker. Oh and my kids are beautiful. We can't forget that. That always bears repeating. I'll post the pics when I get them. Prepare to be dazzled.
I decided at 9 o'clock last night that we would all wear white shirts. It sounds kind of hokey but nothing else looked right. So the girls and I loaded up and drove over to hell, where it seems that they have all kinds of white shirts on sale for like $5. So I was super happy. And my conscience only convulsed slightly. (I stomped it down.)
When I got home, Chris pointed out that the boys really needed haircuts. I wanted to protest but since it was obvious it was true, I had to nod sadly and then panic about when this was going to take place. It was, after all, 10 pm, Chris was leaving for work and pictures were scheduled for 10 am the next morning. Chris volunteered to do it the next morning. Tragedy averted. Almost.
I forget that Ty has major issues with haircuts. He hates the little hairs that get all over you. He claims that it is unbearably itchy and he breaks into man-sized whines. Seriously. So, Chris cut his hair at 9am and I spent until 10am trying to remove tiny little hairs from his shirt. It was super fun. I tried using tape and even threw it in the drier. I ended up holding the shirt and picking individual hairs out of the fabric. I couldn't bear the torment he was in.
The actual photo shoot was lovely. Aside from the broken glass on the sidewalk... did I mention that we were barefoot? And also aside from the hordes of mosquitos, that is. We sprayed each other with chemicals and even had to rub the bug spray on our faces. The attacks were brutal. My sister-in-law was especially targeted. Bless her heart.
But I'm sure the efforts we made will be worth it. And besides, Jessica is a miracle worker. Oh and my kids are beautiful. We can't forget that. That always bears repeating. I'll post the pics when I get them. Prepare to be dazzled.
Friday, July 03, 2009
Thursday, July 02, 2009
Music, Tears and Eternity
As I mentioned in my previous post, I went to a concert tonight. The guy's name is Sam Bradley. I like his live music better than his recorded. But then again, all he has is myspace music, no cd yet. He's fun to go see because he loves it so much. He's doing exactly what he wants to be doing. I wish I could talk to him about the gospel.
There's another couple of people I've found on myspace. Aoife O'Donovan and Marcus Foster. Love them. Serious awesomeness. Marcus's song Fourteen Times owns me. And Aoife's Burning Heart moves me. Marcus is coming to Nashville in August. I wanna go. Hmmm.
I learned a little more about community tonight. I learned that watching a non-christian experience/observe true community is, um, awkward. There is a flow to true community. There's an intimacy that can only come when the Spirit is testifying, pouring life back and forth. To someone without the Spirit, there's something both uncomfortable and enticing about that. On the one hand, community and relationship are what they are created for and long for. But on the other hand, there is a knowing and a being known that is scary and vulnerable. It's beautiful and ruthless at the same time. It is a love that hangs on and says, "I know you're messed up and you're probably going to hurt me, but I'm just like you and I choose to love you anyway." There is safety in true community because it comes straight from the heart of God.
I am seeing God expand my vision to include eternity. It changes the way I see everything around me. I remember telling G a long time ago that I did not like the thoughts of them leaving to go to Ireland. He just looked at me and said knowingly, "I know. But you will. One day you will." And now I do. I see the future of heaven as a place for all the unhindered fellowship I long for here. And I see the beauty of sacrificing a little bit of that fellowship now, for a time, so that others can hear and have the same kind of redemption and fellowship. It is a very worthy cause.
As I sit here, exhausted, writing my heart, I cry. I cry for the loss I already feel when I think of the Donahoos and Morgans going. I cry for the loss that will come soon when the Springville plant is ready to particularize and we move our activities there. I cry for the beauty of the Spirit in my volitional family that holds me and pours into me. I cry for the lost who are called lost for a reason. I cry for their fears and their lostness. I cry for the blessings of the faces that come into my mind right now. Melissa Mohr. Bekah. Sonja. Jessica. Jawan. Leslie. Laura. Trisha. I see a hundred faces and know that they are known by me and I am known by them.
I cry because I am tired. And the tears are friends, expressions of love and beauty and connectedness. But alas, now I ramble....
There's another couple of people I've found on myspace. Aoife O'Donovan and Marcus Foster. Love them. Serious awesomeness. Marcus's song Fourteen Times owns me. And Aoife's Burning Heart moves me. Marcus is coming to Nashville in August. I wanna go. Hmmm.
I learned a little more about community tonight. I learned that watching a non-christian experience/observe true community is, um, awkward. There is a flow to true community. There's an intimacy that can only come when the Spirit is testifying, pouring life back and forth. To someone without the Spirit, there's something both uncomfortable and enticing about that. On the one hand, community and relationship are what they are created for and long for. But on the other hand, there is a knowing and a being known that is scary and vulnerable. It's beautiful and ruthless at the same time. It is a love that hangs on and says, "I know you're messed up and you're probably going to hurt me, but I'm just like you and I choose to love you anyway." There is safety in true community because it comes straight from the heart of God.
I am seeing God expand my vision to include eternity. It changes the way I see everything around me. I remember telling G a long time ago that I did not like the thoughts of them leaving to go to Ireland. He just looked at me and said knowingly, "I know. But you will. One day you will." And now I do. I see the future of heaven as a place for all the unhindered fellowship I long for here. And I see the beauty of sacrificing a little bit of that fellowship now, for a time, so that others can hear and have the same kind of redemption and fellowship. It is a very worthy cause.
As I sit here, exhausted, writing my heart, I cry. I cry for the loss I already feel when I think of the Donahoos and Morgans going. I cry for the loss that will come soon when the Springville plant is ready to particularize and we move our activities there. I cry for the beauty of the Spirit in my volitional family that holds me and pours into me. I cry for the lost who are called lost for a reason. I cry for their fears and their lostness. I cry for the blessings of the faces that come into my mind right now. Melissa Mohr. Bekah. Sonja. Jessica. Jawan. Leslie. Laura. Trisha. I see a hundred faces and know that they are known by me and I am known by them.
I cry because I am tired. And the tears are friends, expressions of love and beauty and connectedness. But alas, now I ramble....
Live Your Life
3x5 ... There's a song by John Mayer that talks about putting down your camera and just living your life, experiencing the moment. I watched people at a concert tonight, so concerned with video, taking pics or texting that they ended up not enjoying the moment they were in. There was no leaning back, watching the performance, soaking it in. There was no open eyed amazement at the talent before them. But hey, they got all the youtube footage they can handle. What's wrong with this picture?
Monday, June 29, 2009
Friday, June 12, 2009
Need?
What is the difference, or rather, where is the line between need and selfishness? How does one tell which is which?
Some would say that any demand we make on another person is selfishness. Do I really need Chris to help around the house? etc. If I can realistically solve the problem/do the work/fulfill the obligation to ask for help is selfishness.
Others would say that's wrong. God created in us needs and desires. Companionship, understanding, relationship, relaxation, cooperation, etc. We were never meant to be an island. When is it the other person's responsiblity?
I wish I knew. I struggle. How does one express a felt need without it being a demand? How does one not resent the one not meeting the need? Or, for that matter, even seeing the struggle?
And while I am so wrapped up in my own needs/selfishness, what is happening in the world around me? How many people around me feel the same way? About me? Ouch.
Some would say that any demand we make on another person is selfishness. Do I really need Chris to help around the house? etc. If I can realistically solve the problem/do the work/fulfill the obligation to ask for help is selfishness.
Others would say that's wrong. God created in us needs and desires. Companionship, understanding, relationship, relaxation, cooperation, etc. We were never meant to be an island. When is it the other person's responsiblity?
I wish I knew. I struggle. How does one express a felt need without it being a demand? How does one not resent the one not meeting the need? Or, for that matter, even seeing the struggle?
And while I am so wrapped up in my own needs/selfishness, what is happening in the world around me? How many people around me feel the same way? About me? Ouch.
Saturday, June 06, 2009
England- Part 2
I like lists. I really do. They're so efficient. Say what needs to be said and be done with it. Nothin' wrong with that. So I thought I'd make a list of things I learned/experienced/know about England/English culture.
1. Finding a 'rubbish bin' is quite difficult. Apparently they don't make trash... ever. Good to know.
2. The word 'water' is difficult to say with a different accent. Jeven had trouble saying it with a southern accent and I had trouble with the English accent.
3. The British are not overly fond of food seasonings. Also good to know.
4. I saw a lot of yellow wisteria. Very pretty but makes me think of pollen.
5. No such thing as a yard sale in England. It boggles the mind.
6. Jesus, sin, heaven are all ideas; not unlike zen, purgatory or re-incarnation. There is no absolute reality or truth.
7. It takes a few days to get used to asking people where the "toilets" are.
8. Pepto Bismal is treated almost like a controlled substance there. You must be interrogated by the pharmacist before purchasing. Don't ask me how I know this.
9. When they say 'folk music' it means something completely different than what we think of. Especially if it's of the German persuasion which has lots of yodeling. Hmmm.
10. No electricity is allowed in bathrooms. No switches or outlets at all. The light switch is outside the door. Cobi and I immediately thought of the prank potential of this situation.
11. The British should not be allowed to name their own products. Case in point: Spotted dick, toad-in-the-hole, Minstrels, Horlick malt, mushy peas, Digestives cookies, pasty (pronounced past - ee : a sort of pot pie but in fried pie form), and wine gums.
12. When they say "pie" they don't usually mean what you think they mean... think "meat".
13. Ask your host to be more specific if he asks you "Do you want a lemonade?" You could end up with a Sprite-ish, slightly shampoo-y tasting fizzy drink - not at all like Chick-Fil-A.
14. English money is very easy to use. They just have lots more coins than we do; a total of 8, I believe: 1pence, 2 pence,5,10,20,50 pence,1 pound, and 2 pound. Your pockets get heavy sometimes.
15. The English take the age of their country for granted. Eating in a pub that was built in 1561 is completely normal and old hat to them. Not unlike the way we, as Americans, take the size of our country for granted. To drive from Scotland to London is an 8 hour drive: that's like from Nashville to Mobile. America is really big!
I've learned much more than that but I think that's all for tonight. My eyes are starting to cross I'm so tired. G'Nite.
1. Finding a 'rubbish bin' is quite difficult. Apparently they don't make trash... ever. Good to know.
2. The word 'water' is difficult to say with a different accent. Jeven had trouble saying it with a southern accent and I had trouble with the English accent.
3. The British are not overly fond of food seasonings. Also good to know.
4. I saw a lot of yellow wisteria. Very pretty but makes me think of pollen.
5. No such thing as a yard sale in England. It boggles the mind.
6. Jesus, sin, heaven are all ideas; not unlike zen, purgatory or re-incarnation. There is no absolute reality or truth.
7. It takes a few days to get used to asking people where the "toilets" are.
8. Pepto Bismal is treated almost like a controlled substance there. You must be interrogated by the pharmacist before purchasing. Don't ask me how I know this.
9. When they say 'folk music' it means something completely different than what we think of. Especially if it's of the German persuasion which has lots of yodeling. Hmmm.
10. No electricity is allowed in bathrooms. No switches or outlets at all. The light switch is outside the door. Cobi and I immediately thought of the prank potential of this situation.
11. The British should not be allowed to name their own products. Case in point: Spotted dick, toad-in-the-hole, Minstrels, Horlick malt, mushy peas, Digestives cookies, pasty (pronounced past - ee : a sort of pot pie but in fried pie form), and wine gums.
12. When they say "pie" they don't usually mean what you think they mean... think "meat".
13. Ask your host to be more specific if he asks you "Do you want a lemonade?" You could end up with a Sprite-ish, slightly shampoo-y tasting fizzy drink - not at all like Chick-Fil-A.
14. English money is very easy to use. They just have lots more coins than we do; a total of 8, I believe: 1pence, 2 pence,5,10,20,50 pence,1 pound, and 2 pound. Your pockets get heavy sometimes.
15. The English take the age of their country for granted. Eating in a pub that was built in 1561 is completely normal and old hat to them. Not unlike the way we, as Americans, take the size of our country for granted. To drive from Scotland to London is an 8 hour drive: that's like from Nashville to Mobile. America is really big!
I've learned much more than that but I think that's all for tonight. My eyes are starting to cross I'm so tired. G'Nite.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
England - Part 1
Well we're in England now. Got in around 3am-ish Alabama time. It's now 5:30 here. I have two and a half more hours before I can go to bed. That will put me at being awake for around ... um... having trouble with the math... 28 hours? or is it 30? A long time. How bout that?
The flight over was uneventful. I got to sit behind Cobi and talk and laugh. That was fun. The movie system was nice. I watched two episodes of 30 rock, two episodes of The Big Bang Theory, and something else. Can't remember. I listened to non-stop Coldplay while I tried to nap. That was nice. The food was okay. Breakfast was a bit scary... I'm not partial to fuzzy grapes. Call me crazy.
Customs was a bit terrifying; as was the drive to the Kunar's. Otto is a lovely man who used to drive motorbikes for a living. (I don't know what that means) And he drove thru the traffic circles like he was on a motorbike. I held on tight. He told me that God is ultimately in control, right? I asked if we could make the drive a non-faith building exercise. He was very funny.
Once at the Kunar's I did my usual exploring. Their home is very nice. I refrained from looking in any closets, drawers or cabinets. I'm very proud of myself. They have the same tendency as Kim to hang their pictures really high up on the walls. Interesting.
Now we (me, Chris, Chris Barnett and Bill Knapp) are at our host home. The couple is out of the country so we have the run of the place. It's beautiful. The oven took a minute to decipher. There are no closets; only hanging racks of clothes in every room and the hallways. The fridge is tiny. But the views are wonderful. It's like being in a movie.
I can't wait to get some sleep and get going tomorrow. We'll go to the Culcheth church tomorrow morning and then eat lunch with them. We'll go to the Warrington plant tomorrow night. And we get our agenda tomorrow too.
I think I'll walk down to the corner market now, stay awake a little longer. And take some pictures of Gracie's bulldog toy in front of scenery; she'll like that. I'm praying for my family right now. They're at Chris' aunt's funeral. For those who don't know: Chris' aunt committed suicide last Tuesday. It's one of the most tragic things I've ever been a part of. I pray for comfort, peace and rest for the whole family.
I'll try to blog again sometime this week. Bye!
The flight over was uneventful. I got to sit behind Cobi and talk and laugh. That was fun. The movie system was nice. I watched two episodes of 30 rock, two episodes of The Big Bang Theory, and something else. Can't remember. I listened to non-stop Coldplay while I tried to nap. That was nice. The food was okay. Breakfast was a bit scary... I'm not partial to fuzzy grapes. Call me crazy.
Customs was a bit terrifying; as was the drive to the Kunar's. Otto is a lovely man who used to drive motorbikes for a living. (I don't know what that means) And he drove thru the traffic circles like he was on a motorbike. I held on tight. He told me that God is ultimately in control, right? I asked if we could make the drive a non-faith building exercise. He was very funny.
Once at the Kunar's I did my usual exploring. Their home is very nice. I refrained from looking in any closets, drawers or cabinets. I'm very proud of myself. They have the same tendency as Kim to hang their pictures really high up on the walls. Interesting.
Now we (me, Chris, Chris Barnett and Bill Knapp) are at our host home. The couple is out of the country so we have the run of the place. It's beautiful. The oven took a minute to decipher. There are no closets; only hanging racks of clothes in every room and the hallways. The fridge is tiny. But the views are wonderful. It's like being in a movie.
I can't wait to get some sleep and get going tomorrow. We'll go to the Culcheth church tomorrow morning and then eat lunch with them. We'll go to the Warrington plant tomorrow night. And we get our agenda tomorrow too.
I think I'll walk down to the corner market now, stay awake a little longer. And take some pictures of Gracie's bulldog toy in front of scenery; she'll like that. I'm praying for my family right now. They're at Chris' aunt's funeral. For those who don't know: Chris' aunt committed suicide last Tuesday. It's one of the most tragic things I've ever been a part of. I pray for comfort, peace and rest for the whole family.
I'll try to blog again sometime this week. Bye!
Monday, May 18, 2009
I'm wondering if Brody is going to be covered in temporary tattoos by the time I get home. His new hero is Dave. No pressure Dave, but your 17 tattoos are fascinating. Brody has lots of new ideas for where he wants to put them. Until Dave, he had no idea that tattoos could be in other places besides your bicep. Now he wants them all over. I don't mind. Between the mohawk and the soccer shirts and tattoos, he looks like a disgruntled European. At least that's what Quinn says.
In my mind, when I get home, the kids school work will be completed and their chores will be done. That's in my mind of course. I like living in my mind. Everything's so nice and tidy. I can sing and dance beautifully. I look like I did in high school. My kids enjoy doing laundry. Fleas don't exist. It's utopia really. But then I open my eyes and my utopia bubble bursts. *sigh* I'm closing my eyes again.
I'm disgusted by my hall bathroom. It needs a complete makeover. New paint. New shower curtain. New vanity. New art. And once it's done the kids have to use the spicket outside for washing and brushing their teeth. And they can pee in the woods. Whatevah.
Well thats all. Gotta go now!
In my mind, when I get home, the kids school work will be completed and their chores will be done. That's in my mind of course. I like living in my mind. Everything's so nice and tidy. I can sing and dance beautifully. I look like I did in high school. My kids enjoy doing laundry. Fleas don't exist. It's utopia really. But then I open my eyes and my utopia bubble bursts. *sigh* I'm closing my eyes again.
I'm disgusted by my hall bathroom. It needs a complete makeover. New paint. New shower curtain. New vanity. New art. And once it's done the kids have to use the spicket outside for washing and brushing their teeth. And they can pee in the woods. Whatevah.
Well thats all. Gotta go now!
Monday, April 27, 2009
Disjointed and Slow
So here I am, sitting in my bed at midnight. I'm very sleepy. But go to sleep? Nah. Not right now.
So much has happened in the past month. I'm not really sure why I haven't blogged. Every time I've thought about it, I just didn't. I'm contrary, I suppose.
Maggie had a birthday. She's now a teenager. My mother's birthday passed with minimal breakdowns. Our dog died. My birthday was yesterday. I am now thirty-six. That feels old right now. Chris is working a lot. We're getting ready to go to England for a week and a half.
My mind is full. Lots of stuff happening up there. But the thinking, meditating, contemplative aspect of my brain is moving very slowly. Maybe I have a virus, like a computer. Or maybe it's sin.
I have been struggling with sin lately. Well, you know what I mean. I struggle all the time. But sometimes there seem to be sins or a sin that wraps itself around my brain stem and refuse to die. And in those times, I find myself closing off to the people around me. I become self-protective. And contrary. And shallow.
I remember my mother talking a lot when she was around my age about being afraid of success. Afraid of failure but also afraid of success. I thought it was weird. What I find scary now are the times I find myself living out things I remember her saying or doing. She is the specter that hovers over my existence. Her memory is one of the things that entangle me. And I am powerless to forget her and her impact on making me who I am. I can't fight that. It's like beating the air.
I have had two panic attacks in the past three months. Trace calls these my Jerry's Kids moments. And although I laugh and recognize his humor and sympathy, it scares the sh-t out of me. It is something I have no control over and it's frustrating and embarrassing and ridiculous. I would rather pretend like they never happen. I'm ready for heaven or healing, whichever comes first.
There are so many things that happen in my life that no one knows anything about. Random thoughts or suppressed fears. Tiny victories and kept secrets. I feel useless most of the time but this feeling is tempered with the knowledge that God does use me, in spite of myself. I want to be used. I want to be free from sins and fears and pride. I want to be wide open to others. I...
Where is this post going? No where. Why am I even posting this? I have no idea.
So much has happened in the past month. I'm not really sure why I haven't blogged. Every time I've thought about it, I just didn't. I'm contrary, I suppose.
Maggie had a birthday. She's now a teenager. My mother's birthday passed with minimal breakdowns. Our dog died. My birthday was yesterday. I am now thirty-six. That feels old right now. Chris is working a lot. We're getting ready to go to England for a week and a half.
My mind is full. Lots of stuff happening up there. But the thinking, meditating, contemplative aspect of my brain is moving very slowly. Maybe I have a virus, like a computer. Or maybe it's sin.
I have been struggling with sin lately. Well, you know what I mean. I struggle all the time. But sometimes there seem to be sins or a sin that wraps itself around my brain stem and refuse to die. And in those times, I find myself closing off to the people around me. I become self-protective. And contrary. And shallow.
I remember my mother talking a lot when she was around my age about being afraid of success. Afraid of failure but also afraid of success. I thought it was weird. What I find scary now are the times I find myself living out things I remember her saying or doing. She is the specter that hovers over my existence. Her memory is one of the things that entangle me. And I am powerless to forget her and her impact on making me who I am. I can't fight that. It's like beating the air.
I have had two panic attacks in the past three months. Trace calls these my Jerry's Kids moments. And although I laugh and recognize his humor and sympathy, it scares the sh-t out of me. It is something I have no control over and it's frustrating and embarrassing and ridiculous. I would rather pretend like they never happen. I'm ready for heaven or healing, whichever comes first.
There are so many things that happen in my life that no one knows anything about. Random thoughts or suppressed fears. Tiny victories and kept secrets. I feel useless most of the time but this feeling is tempered with the knowledge that God does use me, in spite of myself. I want to be used. I want to be free from sins and fears and pride. I want to be wide open to others. I...
Where is this post going? No where. Why am I even posting this? I have no idea.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Our Baby Kitties
Our little bitty kittens are super cute. I'm serious. I've tried to be hard-hearted about them. I've tried to not be delighted with them. Really, I have. But it's just not possible. At all.
There are five of them and of course Ty picked the cutest one. But I worry about him; he's so tiny and pitiful looking. We're praying he doesn't die. Ty's named him Tiny Titan, in the hopes, I suppose, that he'll be inspired to live up to his name.
I watched my kids take care of them today. I bathed them for the first time... the kittens that is. As I finished bathing each one, I'd hand it off to a child. It was so sweet to watch my kids dry their kitten and talk to it, trying to soothe it. And then each one of us was holding a towel-wrapped kitten, cuddling and humming to try to recreate a purring sound. (We read that the Momma's purring is soothing) It worked and the kitties calmed right down and went to sleep. I looked up and there were all my kids, rocking and swaying and humming. It about broke my heart it was so sweet. When it was time to put them back in their temporary home in the bathtub, I led the procession down the hallway. We looked like monks, all in a row, humming and shuffling our feet. It made me smile.
Just thought I'd share. Today will be a good memory.
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
I ask myself if it was a good idea to let both my boys get mohawks five days before Easter. Maybe not. But then again, it's just hair. Who cares? I don't care that much. And they do look so cool. And they're both really happy. I mean really, really happy. And giggling. So I will just let go any happy thoughts I may have had of looking like the sweet, pretty family for Easter Sunday. People will instead see a hip, cool, unapologetically punk, happy family. Oh well. Who cares what people think? Not me... yeah, right.
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Baby Steps
I love this part of What About Bob. I quote it a lot. Especially the end: Gimme! Gimme! I need! I need!
Makes me laugh every time.
I need... I need...
I need to load my dishwasher.
I need to put on socks cause my feet are freezin'.
I need to make the kids pack for overnight.
I need to buy/make a birthday card for Chris' grandmother that we stay with every week; she'll be 95 tomorrow.
I need to figure out what I'm gonna feed my family tonight.
I need to take a nap since my medicine kept me up last night.
I need to turn up my music. (JT)
I need something to drink. I'm thirsty.
I need to organize my entire life.
I need to review my lesson for tonight.
I need to stop typing and pick one thing from this list.
Or I could check my email. Yeah, I'll do that.
I need to put on socks cause my feet are freezin'.
I need to make the kids pack for overnight.
I need to buy/make a birthday card for Chris' grandmother that we stay with every week; she'll be 95 tomorrow.
I need to figure out what I'm gonna feed my family tonight.
I need to take a nap since my medicine kept me up last night.
I need to turn up my music. (JT)
I need something to drink. I'm thirsty.
I need to organize my entire life.
I need to review my lesson for tonight.
I need to stop typing and pick one thing from this list.
Or I could check my email. Yeah, I'll do that.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Gorham's Bluff
My lovely husband commissioned me to plan a getaway for us. It's been a couple of years since we went away just the two of us. Missy told me about a place in NE Alabama called Gorham's Bluff. We went. It was amazing. Completely and totally amazing. Everything about the place is aesthetically pleasing and luxurious. The views, the homes, the quietness, the decor of our house. Even the weather was perfect: it rained the second day. So we stayed in, listening to the rain, reading, watching movies. It was soothing and perfect. I'm so glad we went. You should go. Seriously.
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