'Home Behind the Sun' by Timothy Willard and Jason Locy

"It is the act of chasing brilliance that keeps hope alive within our hearts.  And that chasing act produces an expectation of belief--though the shadows lengthen and at times overwhelm, the brilliance is not far away."

Excellent book.  I have to say that Home Behind the Sun is one of the best books I've read this year.  I feel rejuvenated. Timothy Willard and Jason Locy have written a very honest book that's all about our Creator and His love for us, and His desire for us to be filled with wonder.  And with their gorgeous use of words they encourage us to approach the Lord as our children are still able to do, in their innocence.  The older I get, the harder that's become, but I can still try.

Both writers share extensive examples of how they're looking to fall in love with God again.  To see Him in all the varied experiences we travel through on a given day.  And they're not all pretty situations, but they also tell of hard times that try a person's faith.  The thing is, we should still be able to find the magic.

Life was never intended to be ordinary.  I mean really, if we would look at each day as if it's the first time we've seen it, how would it appear?  This is how Tim and Jason gifted me, and I read this book at just the time I needed it.  I was craving the joy, but didn't know where to look.

More information can be found here.

(i received this book free to review from thomas nelson/booklook bloggers)

Mental melt-down (not really)

Reading George Eliot's Middlemarch, which I've owned for ages and ages.  Just a thick old paperback that's developed faded pages on the shelf.  I remember...get this, I remember Joan Rivers daughter, Melissa, saying once that Middlemarch was her favorite book.  Why that would stick with me is ridiculous.  Now, I didn't buy it 'oh so long ago' for that reason, but I always wanted to read it.  Just never did.  Wonder if Melissa Rivers would still stand by what she said then?

Anyway, I have a book soon to arrive to review called My Life in Middlemarch, and figured it'd be wise to know what the author was talking about.  And I'll just say, I really am enjoying it.  Rich sentences, and so unlike what's written present day.  We're so lame today.  Don't sit still long enough to create a string of words that have any value beyond the moment.  Nothing is lasting. Well, rarely it's lasting.  My greatest love in literature is late 1800's, with the Brontes being at the top of the list.  Jane Eyre at the VERY top.  Adore the clothes, and lifestyle, and the literature is breath-taking.  Sentences you have to move around in your mouth to enjoy. Glorious.

::segue::

"Woe to those who quarrel with their Maker, those who are nothing but potsherds among the potsherds on the ground. Does the clay say to the potter, 'Yet you, LORD, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand.'"~Isaiah 45:9

"Yet you, LORD, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand."~Isaiah 64:8

Gary's been reading in Isaiah, hence the verse up above.  We got to talking outside the other night about God's will and our tendency to try to manage things.  And as for me, I tend to try to figure out what needs to happen to an extreme.  Probably a mom thing.  I'm always mentally running ahead....like knowing what's for dinner, do we have supplies in the house, where is everyone going today, who will be here for dinner, is there enough dog food, etc.  All the time there's a mental dialogue going on in my head.  Never a quiet moment.

But when you get into your thinking that we really are the God-made pottery, with very little control, well....the whole idea of a playing field involving us and the Lord changes.  And with this financial situation lengthening, I'm forced to search for God's face even more.  That's the name of the game anyhow, though, isn't it?  Not about us.  All about Him.

Here's the deal for me.  Maybe you're way ahead of me in this.  Maybe I'm the only one.  Here goes....we hear all the time of preachers talking about free will.  I hear that, but not so sure I buy it all the way.  Now, I'm an Anglican, but spent most of my adult years in the Reformed Presbyterian church.  Totally believe in God's irresistible Grace, meaning He touches you and marks you as His own and you can't turn away from that no matter how hard you try.  I don't buy the Anglican's teaching of salvation occurring at infant baptism, though I do believe it can be and should be a spiritual experience.

Okay.  So I'm His.  I'm really His.  All of me.  But as I've grown older and more tired, it's been my habit to take bits of me back from His hands.  I have a really hard time believing He wants to manage all of it.  Here in America we praise folks who are entrepreneurs, who come up with self-sufficient ways to manage their lives, the creative ones.  The rich ones especially.

I've gotten into the place now where I'm not sure I'm supposed to be in charge AT ALL.  Huh.  At all.  For me to let go of everything is hard.  The house, my marriage, my attachment to our children and my sometimes-not-so-subtle desire to control their choices, our finances, my health.  I could go on and on.

I'm reminded of a show on the Food Network where contestants make dishes and have a timer and have to walk away at a particular moment.  They throw up their hands.  I'm throwing up my hands. Not sure anything amazing will happen, but it's the right thing to do.

Yeah.  Sort of repeating myself.  I'm working this out in my head, blogging it, talking about it, praying about it, and maybe I'll see some differences in how my life pans out.  Maybe. :)

Good news and deep cleaning

Work is now in the shop for which we're thankful.  More please. :)  Hoping and praying it's the beginning of a pattern.  A small start, but all good.

Spring (summer?) cleaning.  Throwing out, putting away dishes, much heavy dusting, washing/ironing curtains, washing windows.  Re-arranging furniture.

The prospect of Nat'l Guard boy bringing his girlfriend to dinner.  Hence cleaning.  Not sure when she'll be here, but I feel more pressure to tidy for a female than for oldest daughter's sweet Indian boyfriend, who just overlooks most things.  He's very laid back.

I asked our son how serious he was about this girl and says he doesn't see the sense in wasting time if he's not serious.  Oh my.  Not sure I'm prepared for another child's romance.  Had lunch with the two of them on Monday.  Sweet visit, but some concerns---some large, some not so large. Much prayer needed.  Mostly focusing on the aspect of them being unequally yoked.  Not a good basis for a grounded relationship, I'm thinking.  Not sure our son is convinced of it being of the utmost in importance.  More prayer.  He says she's 'close' to releasing her will to the Lord. She leans more to an intellectual's viewpoint, and is very well educated...already has her Master's and is working on her PhD.  I think she's got more book learning than all of us all rolled up together.  We lean more toward street smarts in our household.  Whatever.

Tomorrow will finish up more cleaning.  So enjoyed today's work.  It felt good to be busy and see evidence of it at the end of the day.  Not sure those who worked and weren't here could see much had been done, but those of us who plowed away sure did. :)

Grace, but longing for Mercy

~painting by lilian westcott hale

Oldest daughter just came in from having a date-night with her sweet Indian boyfriend.  They'd gone to an Italian restaurant east of here that's in an old house. They've been there several times, always enjoy it and she said that Gary and I ought to go there sometime. He and I were able to laugh at the same time.  That we were able to laugh was an improvement.  He told her we were under house arrest.  Seriously.  God is silent. Will we ever go out to eat again?!??!  Gary's getting tiny nibbles at the shop.  Or maybe I should say that his phone rings, but nobody follows through. It rang several times yesterday.  But that was yesterday.  Tithed?  Yes.  But you know, just tithing isn't enough.  If it was, then we'd have a slot machine God.  No thanks.  I'm more into the intimate relationship.  On our knees.  Absolutely.  Well, figuratively.  We both have shot knees. :)

Faith when it's tough is simply that.  Tough.  But if God says it's what He wants, then who am I to fuss?  And no, I don't always believe that.  Easy to say, hard to practice.  I do rail at times, but cautiously.  I don't think the Lord minds when I express myself to Him.  He knows I get rowdy and fed up.  He made me this way.

"Through Jesus, therefore, let us continually offer to God a sacrifice of praise--the fruit of lips that openly profess His name."~ Hebrews 13:15

For me, to praise God Almighty when I don't have money to pay the bills.  When we're getting creative with feeding the chickens, and the milk jug gets close to empty.  When less gets to the point of being okay.  Do you hear me?  When I can praise God when I ain't got nothing.  And nothing for us is nothing.  Not the couple of hundred dollars in savings.  Savings?  When we have no idea how to pay the house note.  When we're slowly realizing how much we depend on our Father.  When He allows our supplies to dwindle.  Less of us and more of Him.  But we always eat. Always.

To me the sacrifice of praise is giving thanks for when I can't see what might happen....and even to thanking God when nothing happens.  That's a challenge.  It takes some time to get to that place. I don't have it mastered (and sometimes don't get there), but really, with the past few weeks being so darn hard, I can honestly say that I'm almost okay with that.  Huh.  Go figure. Check back this time tomorrow to see how I'm fairing.  My mood might fluctuate.  I feel strong this very minute, but don't hold your breath.

A few days ago, I neared blasphemy with doubting the existence of a God who cares.  I gnashed my teeth, cried and got angry.  Then it passed.  Came again.  Passed.

He does exist.  He cares.  He allows junk to happen so that He is glorified when He carries us, and when it's tough and then later on when He brings on the answers.  This very minute I believe that, and I'm going to hang on.  Hope it sticks.

'A Table by the Window' by Hillary Manton Lodge

A Table by the Window centers around the life of French/Italian (though born in America) Juliette D'Alisa.  She's a food writer, also a culinary school graduate with restaurant life in her blood. Her grandmother had a patisserie, her parents run a restaurant, and soon into the book she's invited by her brother to start yet another one.

I really enjoyed her writing style which was laid-back, and I enjoyed seeing that she added the recipes that are mentioned in the story.  Also, since the main love interest lived in Memphis, I pricked up my ears.  Reading about my hometown was a treat, and Lodge hit on Memphis spot on.  No fake accents, and no making fun of the Southerners.  We get that all the time! Made me wonder if either she or someone close to her lived here.  It's easy to poorly portray characters from varied parts of the country, and it's refreshing to see it done well.

There was lots going on, and honestly, she tells the story of Juliette so well, I'm thinking this will be a book I'll remember.  I read a lot and often as soon as I finish a book, unless it has something pretty good going for it, I forget the main thread. This one isn't like that.  It's light, yes, but solid enough to stay with you.  There's a mystery involving her French-born grandmother, some hidden genetics going on, a serious illness, a long-distance romance, beautiful food descriptions and a story of faith that holds it all together.  Plus, the end of the book contains a few pages of the sequel.

Many thanks to Hillary Manton Lodge for writing what I wanted to read.  No drama that was so overbearing that I got edgy, but just enough to intrigue me.  Well done.  Very well done.

(i received this book to review from waterbrook/multnomah)

Friday night

• going to honor oldest daughter's prayer for me tonight and simply enjoy the weekend
• it's father's day besides
• my dad passed away 21 years ago, but we'll give gary a sweet day on sunday
• he was outside a few minutes ago baiting a trap
• with pizza
• fourth son had heard a noise next door earlier while he was shutting up the hens in their coop
• possum
• eeeeewwww
• one of the ugliest animals known to man, in my opinion
• gary tried with the bb gun to lower the possum population, but wasn't successful
• if pizza doesn't work, will try this can of sardines tomorrow night
• as it is now, big dogs are out, throwing their weight around
• was asked by third son (the newly returned one in the nat'l guard) to join him, a couple of his friends who live nearby and his girlfriend (who we met at his basic training graduation) at the farmer's market tomorrow
• a good way to get to know the girlfriend, perhaps
• not sure if i'll go----it's iffy right now
• i gave him a look after he asked me....something about if he really wanted to take his mom along, and he made a face back
• he loves me
• but seriously?
• deep breaths
• flowers to buy tomorrow for altar and time with priest's wife to learn how to lay the fair linen, etc.
• a bit excited about that
• now must go
• this has been a long day full of prayer, which always makes me tired
• take care

Thoughts on Thursday

Had to go to my mom's after dinner.  She needed some supplies, got those and then took the kids to her house---changed her bedding, filled up her freezer again, got her sheets into the washer ready for her to turn on tomorrow, emptied trash, etc.  Just basic stuff.  But I always leave sad.  It's like I can't do enough, and nobody's putting that one on me.  I do it to myself.  I feel bad when we have to leave.  She'll most always be sitting at her kitchen table, or she'll be in bed.  Always either one or the other.  She's always glad to see us, which is good, and the kids are so sweet to her.

But tonight, the least one asked her if sometime she could have a particular quilt.  Mom has quite a collection...beautiful pieces.  Mom said she could have it right then.  Not what we expected.  Used to, she'd have made our youngest one wait.  I think now she feels the end spiraling up in front of her, so is more willing to share.  She even said she wanted me to take home one we'd put on her bed.  Said her own grandmother had made it for her.  Mom is 85, so that's one old quilt.  I told her I'd get it next visit.  Said I thought we ought to make tags for the ones she had, so that whoever inherited them knew the seamstress.  Seems the right thing to do.  I sure won't know.

Having one of those periods of life where the Lord is paring me down.  I had the most distinct impression earlier today.   I was asking Him about our current financial situation, not whining, but just talking to Him.  Quiet prayer time in bed.  I asked what was going on---what the reason for what we've been experiencing, and I kid you not, I got a flash of an image in my head with a sense of humor.  It was like He was amused by my question.  He said it was to get my attention.  Believe me or not.  I know some folks feel that God only speaks through the Scriptures, but I've had a relationship with Him from the get-go where I hear Him speak to me.  Some folks can understand that and some don't.  I respect the difference, but this is my experience.  A sense of humor.  I love that.  Here I am getting my knickers in a twist, and rather than feel seriousness from the Lord, I almost hear a laugh.

Puts a totally different spin on everything.

In Ordinary Time

~from John Singer Sargent

Not the amazing answer to prayer I was wanting, but one son paid the due bill, and another son offered to buy groceries today. Yeah, I'd prefer the Lord to make something wild and awe-inspiring fall down from Heaven, but He chose to bless us through our children who are always very willing to help.  They received a blessing as well as the rest of us.

His will isn't the same as mine, that's for sure, but I bow down to His response.

Every time we hit a financial rough spot, I find out something new.  I get broken down to a more usable form.  Less cocky (well, a tiny bit..I'm generally pretty full of myself), and that's all for good.  I still struggle with finding my....oh, whatchacallit.....my....what's it called when you have a certain way of being?  (I ask Gary, who laughs) Gettin' my groove on.  Sadly my groove ain't on.

I feel lethargic and even walking up the path from the truck on the street to the house doesn't inspire me.  The flowers are all coming up, but I can't even work up the enthusiasm to pull the weeds and Bermuda grass that's encroaching.  Is my age showing?  I'm in a slump.

But fortunately, tomorrow I have nothing to deal with.  Yep, bills still overdue, but we have dinner and all my cleaning things---I hate it when I have to water down the dish soap or detergent. When I have a broken bar of soap to use and half a roll of toilet paper.  We have a new package of paper napkins (a personal love of mine, even plain old white ones), and new detergent and another bottle of the Snuggle fabric softener (shameless plug) called Orchid and Vanilla...pink bottle on sale and smells delicious.  Got a new bottle of Dawn dish soap too...a creamy turquoise flavor.  I despise using cheap cleaning supplies, even if I'm broke.  My thinking is that you use twice as much of the thin inexpensive brands, and it's just not worth it.  Small indulgences, which go far in improving my outlook on life.  Maybe not so lame.

Will continue to pray over my house, no matter.  Burned some Frankincense and Myrrh for the second day, and also marked our doors with Hyssop.  Marking His territory.

Now will toddle off, finish my cup of vanilla tea (from hippie store) and read my book.  Tomorrow is another day.

Monday evening

Had put several books on hold at the library and they all came available today...one being The Hawk and the Dove trilogy by Penelope Wilcock that Bonnie mentioned the other day.  Oh my. Loving it.  Presented in a clever way with the story-telling angle.  And with monks, monasteries, Benedictines, etc. in it---perfect for me.  Thanks for that. :)

And had a quiet day, which was nice.  Rainy off and on, mostly on this afternoon.  We've had storms daily and our front yard is telling it.  Can't seem to line up the boys to cut/edge it at the same time, and it's getting a bit too lush.  When strangers come several times to your door to offer to cut it, it's too thick.  It'll get tended to, just not right way, I don't guess.  We had another downpour this afternoon.  Much preferable over the dry weather we've had in summers past.

In other stuff, Gary began and almost completed a pen for the chickens.  They've been free-range over the whole backyard and the poop had become a hazard.  Hard to know where to step, if you know what I mean.  He was able to get some free wire and posts and all we lack is a gate.  Sadly, we only have 4 hens now.  A couple of Saturdays ago, I went out to let them out of the coop, and Piglet had apparently taken a flying leap from the roosting perch and hit her head in the corner of the coop.  Her neck was broken.  Not my finest hour at 6:30am that morning with digging a grave and crying at the same time.  Hard.  And the chickens seemed to mourn Piglet's absence.  They were quiet for a few days, but are back to normal now.  But Milk, the head chicken would seem confused when they'd get into the coop at the end of the day, after Piglet died.  It was like she'd see the other hens on the perch and would almost scratch her head, knowing something was missing.  Such is life with pets.  They don't last forever.

Oh, and I've been asked to be on the Altar Guild at church.  A sweet addition to my duties with flowers already being my responsibility.  And being children's SS assistant.  Small church...it gets divvied out pretty thick at times. Anyway, will train this coming Sunday to learn how to set up the altar with the linens, how to fill the candles with oil and prepare the elements.  Actually, I'm awed to be asked.  And, yes, it's Mitford all over again. :)

Still waiting for God's blessing of work in the shop.  We remain in His shadow.  As it should be.

Rolling my eyes (at myself)

Okay, so I'm a big talker.  As soon as I admit here that I don't struggle with trust as I did before my mom's stroke---a situation testing that theory rears its head.  A particular bill that's already been extended is due this-coming week and I'm busy trying to figure out how to make some money appear out of thin air.  Figures.  Is it my job?  Well, no.  I'm the homemaker, remember?  Am I God? 'Course not.  Not even in the running.  Then I get to thinking I can't relax until it's paid.  Seriously? Do I believe God is in charge or not?  I think we know the answer to that question.  Again, am I in charge here?  I am trying to run things.  Am I omnipresent?  Ha.  Shoot, some days I'm barely here much less everywhere.

Trust is hard for me.  Total release into God's hands is very, very difficult.  I don't only want to help, I want to run things.  Seems I figure I can do it better, at least then it'll get done.  Do you hear me? Such arrogance.

Could probably learn a dose of humility.

I understand the idea of childlike faith.  But practicing it is another thing entirely.

Will get back to you on this so I can share God's provision.  Everything's a lesson, isn't it?

Friday morning quiet-time

"Is that it?  When it gets dark, it's only because God has tucked me in a cleft of the rock and covered me, protected, with his Hand?...It is in the dark that God is passing by.  The bridge and our lives shake not because God has abandoned, but the exact opposite:  God is passing by.  God is in the tremors.  Dark is the holiest ground, the glory passing by.  In the blackest, God is closest, at work, forging His perfect and right will.  Though it is black and we can't see and our world seems to be free-fallng and we feel utterly alone, Christ is most present to us.....Then He will remove His hand.  Then we will look back.  Then we look back and see His back."~from One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp

Out of the whole book, this quote stands out most strongly to me.  I've always felt that when my life feels dark and dismal, that God had turned His face from me.  So, to read this is amazing.  A total about face in what I've always thought.  There's a huge difference in feeling abandoned and feeling embraced.  They're miles apart.  While my life isn't swamped with total darkness now, there are situations at play that are doubt-triggers.  My faith shakes.  If the Lord asked me to get out of the boat and walk on water with him, I'd sink.  Some days are like that.  Issues are present, answers to prayer are needed (with a focus that's time-related----I need it NOW) and my faith is weak.  I apologize to Him.  I remember how long we've walked together and I'm sorry of my lousy personal track record. And then....then I read the Psalm selection for today, really any Psalm and see how David was in despair constantly.  But at the same time he was full of praise.  So my prayers turn away from requests and on to praise and recognition of His Holiness.

Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God of hosts.
Heaven and earth are full of your glory.
Hosanna in the highest.
Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord.
Hosanna in the highest.~the Sanctus

Late afternoon

I wonder.  I just wonder how many folks struggle with financial issues.  Lots?  And I don't mean when you want to buy the national brand and have to by store brand.  But when you wonder when the utility bill will get paid, or the housenote is late.  I know plenty of folks who are fortunate enough to make a regular salary---they know what's coming in and when it's coming.  I sometimes envy that. We never know when funds will get here, unless (and even then, maybe not) a customer promises to get to Gary's shop at a particular time. Self-employment is a daily adventure---and I use the word 'adventure' loosely.  It implies fun, and rarely do I laugh about Gary's work.  But, if I'm honest, it doesn't frustrate me as it used to.  I have piles of hand-written journals with words poured out in them about his work, lack of work, and our piddly bank account.  

The thing is, though, since my mom's stroke, my worries have lessened in that regard.  Perspective.  And I'm realizing on a daily basis that no matter how I hold my mouth, or how long I pray, or how passionate I am in my prayers, the results are the same.  He. Answers. My. Prayers.  But are they answered in the manner I expect or within my time frame?  Well, heck no. Seems in our lives, as a playful rule, He seems to answer them in unlikely and original ways.  Most often at the last minute, and in the nick of time.  Or not in the nick of time and our faith is put to the test.  Adventure?  Not so much.

This isn't confession time, though.  I'm not asking for anyone to tell me their story, but I wonder anyhow.  Even if someone doesn't struggle financially, there's something else that's a heavy weight.  As Gary says, we all have our own wheelbarrow full of stuff to tote around....or something like that.  I don't think he uses the word 'tote' though.  He'd never use that word.  I'd earn a frown from him on that one. :)

Anyway, just doing my day.  Marinara sauce bubbling away, some sort of yeast bread about to be mixed up for dinner, a living room floor to vacuum, the dining room to tidy before we eat, sheets to be gathered off the lines, a bed to be made, and a welcome for my returning family from the wildness of the outside world which I'm blessed to be able to (for the most part) avoid. Take care.

Reading mini rant

Still re-reading One Thousand Gifts, and have reached the end where she gets into what she sees as the sensual side of God's character.  It's the part of the book that folks question the most, and I get that, but really my energy level in terms of wrestling is pretty weak.  Not interested in talking about it anymore.  And I figure, this being the second time I've read it, that I know what to expect.  Still, the book blesses.  It really blesses me.

Tim Challies, well-respected reformed blogger extraordinaire, besides being a pastor in Canada got his come-uppance when he reviewed Voskamp's book and she turned right around and invited him and his family for dinner.   You might have read about that.  I know very little---really only that.  He blogged about that exchange, and followed up with not a recanting of his book review, but a gentling of his response.  Said something to the effect (not quoting here) that he was regretful of being so harsh, not really realizing that he was critiquing a person.  Her words were her own, and as such, he was criticizing her as well as her book.  At least that's what I got out of what he said.  I appreciated that he was able to be human, and a touch kind.

Christians have a habit of being cruel to one another.  Or more like some Christians enjoy attacking other Christians who the first group don't believe are really believers because they might think/believe differently. We like to be right.   Like raptors ready to attack and eat up those they find lesser than themselves.  Frankly, I'm tired of that.  Now, I'm not interested in having a love-fest, but we don't set a very good example, and I've willingly been part of that mindset.  Shoot, I've blasted this book as well.  Curious too that part of the flak the book's gotten is in terms of her reading material---maybe too many Catholics named.  Please.  Surprise....you can be a Roman Catholic and be saved.  How arrogant we are when we believe our particular branch of the Christian faith is right all the time.

All I want to do is take care of my family.  I want so badly to get my head on straight so that I can putter around the house, work in the garden, turn off the continual journey in my head to my mom's needs, forget that the bills are late, and just appreciate our life here.  Now will go run along and thumb through my own stack of Roman Catholic literature.  :)

A purging...

Oh my.  Mothering, and for that fact, Fathering.

Had a raw conversation with most of our kids last night regarding how we all spend our TIME.  It was related to our Internet getting turned back on (payment late, cut off, turned back on...yadda yadda yadda). Anyway, the chat ended up clearing the air that I was noticing had become a tad hazy in our house, spirit-wise.  Tears, raised voices, more tears, and ended up all good.  As we've all said, for those who have kids---it's not for the faint of heart.  Thankfully we were able to talk long enough to resolve the passion of the evening.  And let me say, folks talk about the Italians being the most vocal and passionate.  My husband has a considerable amount of Irish blood. The Italians don't hold a candle to the Irish.  Just so you know.

Got ready for bed last night, took a shower, saw my face in the mirror and apologized to Gary for my appearance when I got to the bedroom.  I said (as has been said by me before), that I looked like I'd been rode hard and put away wet.  He laughed, said something sweet---which was the right thing to say, especially considering the purple stains underneath my eyes that always appear when I'm tired or stressed.

Got to sleep after 2:30am.  Good grief.

The thing is, we're trying to keep our kids focused on the Lord, and not so much on the world.  With their generation being hit in every side with multiple technological devices, it's hard.  You know what I mean.  And while we appear to have good relationships with our kids, they can't really understand (well, some of them) our concern with the time they want to spend on all these things.  It's a balance.  And difficult to stress an issue when they might not see one.

The only thing to do is present what we see as God's best through us, pray them through it and let the Spirit do His work.  And be thankful.

Sunday night's doings

We had my mom over tonight, along with sweet Indian boyfriend for Joseph's belated birthday. A bit difficult to get the feel for her mindset,  it bring her first official outing, bar going to the doctor's,  but she did fine. We did fine. All is well. Odd, but well.

Looking at tomorrow as a day off. Too much drama with Joseph's return, adjusting to having him back, etc.  He's much the same, though, for which I'm grateful.

Speaking of grateful, am re-reading Ann Voskamp's book, and while parts of it make me scratch my head, I'm enjoying reading about thankfulness, which I have a difficult time expressing. I'm a fair hand at grumbling, but need to look on the happy side more.

Also, not wanting to spend so much energy on finding fault. Plenty of folks do that, so I'd prefer being on the cheerleading squad for a change.

Just thoughts banging around in my wee brain.  Take care.