Tuesday evening after a busy day

Listening to middle daughter's newest CD by a group called For King & Country.  Excellent music.  The song called 'It's Not Over Yet' (linked) is amazing---it's raise-your-hands-in-praise music.  I don't tend to do that, though, unless I'm in the car alone (or with the girls), or here in bed by myself.  Feels so good, but it's more than that.  More than a feeling.  It's joy.

Our church, being so Traditional and liturgical, frowns on any outward display of enthusiasm.  Our

priest even told me one time about having to ask a parishioner to control herself (though I think I know who he was talking about), and not raise her hands.  You can tell, even now, she has a hard time not feeling her faith.  Very sweet.  She is controlled, though. He says it draws attention away from the service and to the person being demonstrative.  I tend to sit quietly and just turn my palms up in my lap.  Anything to reach up, even in my lap.

~ ~ ~

It was a good day, though long.  Got our schoolwork finished up before noon, which is unusual.  I'm reading a review book called Tables in the Wilderness by Preston Yancey, who had a crisis of faith while he was in college.  Honest and easy to relate to, even now.  I was able to spend some quiet time in bed reading this afternoon before we had to go out and do my mom's running around.  A brief nap.  The window open to the breeze.  Chickens muttering outside.  Darn near perfect.

Might just try the same tomorrow.

Again I say, 'Aslan is on the move.'

~our hero

Turns out former Indian boyfriend has a bit of a cruel streak.  And while I appreciate that hurt can make us respond in unusual ways, he really has behaved in an unacceptable way, no details needed.  Gary sent him a final text, "Matt, you have no reason for any further contact with Anna.  It stops right now."  The least one read it and said simply with a sweet smile, "I love Dad."  The girls need to feel protected by their father, and he's always done that.  I won't tell you the details of what Gary said in private, but it was something about kicking him to the curb..... :)

In all honesty, I'm ever thankful that I married a man with an intimidating personality.  Comes in handy when a boyfriend acts too big for his britches.  He does not want to tangle with Gary anymore.  And we're all so incredibly thankful for the Lord for interrupting this relationship before it went any farther.  Matt was on the verge of proposing.  Well, a cold feet version.  The girl can wear the ring for years, you know.

Looking forward for the special young man He has picked out for her, as yet unknown to us.  I reminded her today that there's a man out there who's praying for her.  She was already in tears because certain things set her off.  Tender spirit.  

And the wedding rings Gary was offered by his mom (rings of his grandmother's) which were refused by Matt---well, his mom is sending them on anyway for Anna's future husband to give to her.  Win all the way around.

God's hand was on this whole mess.  You'd be amazed if I told you the details.  Suffice it to say that God's will WILL be done no matter.  Praise His name.

Moving on...

The Lord is cleaning house here at the Smiths.  So grateful.  I just call it Mercy.

And I had to laugh at MK's blog about her tea hunt.  She's gotten some great deals at an India market while we've taken an extended break from all things Indian.  We've bought the Tetley Ginger tea (like the Masala she got) via daughter's former Indian boyfriend, last week in fact.  Now the only curry we'll likely eat will be from Gary's mom's tried and true recipe.  

Our daughter is about finished with the great 'toss out' even asking me if I was going to get rid of my Tulsi (Indian) tea but reminded her that I've buying that flavor even before she began dating him. No more interest in henna tattoos or garish colors.  No ethnic movies (glad we already saw the one with Helen Mirren!), or things that smack of India.  Such a purge.

Don't get me wrong.  I don't have a problem with Indians in general, just relieved we're not doing that anymore.  I like Caucasians.  And I'm allowed that.  It's an effort to accept what's so different.  I was willing to go there, and was a willing participant, but give me plain old 'been here in the US for a couple of hundred years' Americans any day.  

So thankful our daughter is doing well too.  She's not anguished, but was hurt pretty hard.  She's realized, however, that this relationship was wrong awhile ago.  Not going anywhere, and likely her former boyfriend had an extended case of cold feet.  I'm glad of that.  Breaking up a dating relationship is much easier than divorce.  Ewwww.

We're getting our fire back.  Cut quick and cut it now.  That's how we deal with it.  Again, thanks be to God, I have my daughter back.  Didn't even know she'd gone anywhere.

Thursday

The way clothes really look out on the clotheslines, including an upside down rake to prop up a sagging line.

'Rare Bird' by Anna Whiston-Donaldson

How do you review a book told by a grieving mom who's lost her only son?  To a freak accident.  A drowning when he was only 12 years old.  How can you even be impartial?  You really can't.  Nobody can imagine the pain of the death of a child, especially when it comes out of the blue.

To be honest, when I got the email offering me the opportunity to review Anna Whiston-Donaldson's book Rare Bird, I hesitated.  I wasn't sure I could bear reading her story.  What saved me was listening to and watching a video online of her talking.  She's survived, but some days it probably feels otherwise.  I was so grateful to see her smile.  She can still conjure up a happy expression.  "Living and partly living" as it's quoted in TS Eliot's Murder in the Cathedral.  Seems apt.

A few years ago, on a rainy late afternoon Anna told her two children to go out and play in the rain.  As the book states, only one came home.  Her son drowned in a creek that had suddenly overflowed behind a neighbor's house.  The book is the story of a family's tragedy that fully demonstrated God's tender hand.

Could someone read this who was freshly grieving?  Not sure, but I found it a comfort nonetheless.

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

More (not necessarily needed) books

New pile I fetched at the library's used bookstore on Saturday.  I'd taken one of the kids' cars and went out by myself, which is rare in itself.  Each book was only a dollar, which I found to be irresistible.  Also picked up a copy of the Orthodox church's liturgy, paperback and well-loved.  I'm such a pushover for liturgical books.  My husband took one look at my pile and said, with a grin, that I'd obviously not gotten anything for him.  He's more into harder works, and with him sort of being a non-reader in the past, that's curious to me.  I admire that.  And actually, he's the one who encouraged me to finish Middlemarch.  I'd slog along and he'd push me to read one more day's worth.  Finally, it worked.  I did get to the end.  He'll read Dante's Inferno, Paradise Lost, or anything by Chesterton, has read all of Lewis, and now he's reading Sir Thomas Malory's book about King Arthur.  He does have a weak spot for Flannery O'Connor as well.  She creeps me out.  I tease him that he's fond of Catholic writers even though he'll try to deny it.  He's pretty much a hard-line Protestant, which is excellent, and has plenty to say about the Virgin Mary and anything to do with Saint's Days, which I find hilarious because we always celebrate Feast Days.  And as I tell him, so what?  Does it do any harm? :)

He seems to be coming around to the Anglican way, though, with no pressure from anyone.  He'll find one bone to pick, and I'll tell him what I think or know, and he'll go off and chew on that.  He's talking about Communion now, like he'll actually go up to receive it.  One more thing slowly changing that's worthy of giving thanks.  And as we Anglicans say, "Thanks be to God."

'The Sacred Year' by Michael Yankowski

I'm held to a 200 or so word review, but can sum this book up by saying I absolutely adore it.  Will that work?  No, seriously, I opened Michael Yankowski's book called The Sacred Year and was drawn in from the first page.  His opening story about being disillusioned and worn out was perfect, and he made me laugh.  And he continued with sharing how totally sacred God is.  With our acceptance of mundane living, it's easy to forget that part.

Here's a beautiful quote from the book:

"The God who called you into existence ex nihilo---out of nothing---is the same God who holds you in existence this moment and every moment.  Were he to withdraw this hand, you would vanish without memory.....he wants you to exist.  And not just exist.  He wants you to live life in all its fullness."

Liturgy.  Ritual.  Authentic faith.  Appreciation for God as the awesome Creator are fully shared in the book.  The Sacred Year---what a perfect title.  Michael sets aside a year to experience God.  Both personally and in a broader sense he attends to his Christian walk.  He's attentive, and that's all any of us can do.  Be attentive to the voice of God.

(i received this book free to review from booklookbloggers)

Joy

My heart is so full.  That's what I told Gary tonight after dinner.  It's like our house is blooming again.  I can't quite explain it, but that's the way it seems.  With our daughter breaking up with her boyfriend, it's as if a warm, comforting breeze is blowing through our home.  And I'd not been aware there was a real problem with their relationship.  Only now is the truth coming out, nothing bad, but stifling, I guess.  Not God's best.  Her boyfriend was sweet, just not right for her.  So thankful we know now what's what.

Do you know those times when the Lord is so close, when you want to stretch out face down in the grass?  

I'm there.  

And even though two of our boys are living with their girlfriends...(yes, two of our boys who know the Lord), and even though my mom still struggles with recovering from her stroke and adds a level of stress, even though we've had to rework our house mortgage so it might never be paid off, life is a blessing.  The Lord is deepening my love for my children and husband.  Life is sort of busted, but brilliant at the same time.  While we've tried to reconcile our boys behavior, I'm learning to not close the door.  Have to leave it open a bit so the breeze can pass through.  The sacred breeze.

As I'm reminding my children....stay in God's face.  All the time.

"Aslan is on the move."~from Narnia

By the way,  just finished Jan Karon's newest book today.  I walked into the library last Wednesday, and there it was sitting on the seven-day shelf.  Can you believe that?  Love stuff like that.  If you've not read it yet, you're in for a treat.  I'm jealous for you. :)  Wish I had it to read for the first time again.

'My Paris Kitchen' by David Lebovitz

What a gorgeous book.  David Lebovitz cookbook/storybook called My Paris Kitchen is a continuation of his wonderful blog and is stuffed with engaging stories.  And the food.  Even without the delicious recipes, the book is stunning.  Lebovitz is a delight.

And he's not an ingredient snob, while so many popular cooks and chefs are just that.  Butter is good.  Unsalted or salted is okay---you can actually interchange them.  Lebovitz gives permission.  Simple things that matter.  Let's not get all in a twist about such inconsequentials---at least to those of us who can't totally replicate a recipe.

I enjoyed reading about his life in Paris, his struggles and adjustments and his outfitting of his little kitchen. He makes cooking fun, and your mouth will water every time you crack open the book.  Guaranteed.

Read about the creation of the book here.

(i received this book free to review from waterbook/multnomah and crown publishing)

The hand of Mercy

Oldest daughter and sweet Indian boyfriend are breaking up, and oddly enough, this came because of a discussion about wedding rings. They'd not become officially engaged, he was planning on proposing for her November birthday, but it isn't meant to be. The cultural differences have had an impact, finally.  Three years of a dating relationship. Certainly didn't see a breakup coming.

But we feel more peaceful than we have in ages and ages. Even our daughter said the same, being that she's been keeping some misgivings to herself, thinking they weren't important. It's all important. 

And healing is coming regarding our son's relationship with his girlfriend. We're able to accept what we can't change, and love them through it, and it seems he's able to accept our differences.  We have a ways to go, but it really is all Grace. We're all bruised, but the love is there for healing.

As a result, it's a hot tea, buttered toast sort of day. Please pray for us.

Friday noon-time

We're in the midst of a mortgage restructure in order to take advantage of the lower interest rate. Otherwise our house would be paid off in five years if we could avoid this, but it seems necessary. As it is, we begin a note of half, but that 5 years will be stretched into our old age. I'm reminded of folks who've lost their homes in unfortunate circumstances. Doing their best, and still, stuff happens. One of my brothers-in-law had built a huge home, thinking they'd be able to take in his parents when the time came, but had to sell at a great loss in the past year. Humiliatingly enough, now they're renting from a niece. His wife had to go back to work, and they're trying to stay within her salary because of his own job insecurities.  Hard times.

Difficult to keep perspective, sometimes.

The really hard part comes when we're ashamed to admit to these sorts of things. When believers try to paint a face of perfection when it's just plain devastating.

It does pile up, though, but thankfully the Lord tucks in little gifts of His goodness that make it all balance. Just have to be tuned  into it.

Open the windows, sweep a room, arrange some flowers, watch the hummingbirds at the feeder, sit with the chickens.....daily tasks and amusements that are spirit-settling.

My boys are still misbehaving, my mom still needs consistent care, our money is tight, but my marriage is as strong as it's ever been. And my girl children are my chief blessing now. It does all balance out.

The view from my bucket

A day of rest

Today is a wearying day. Even now I'm in bed, the girls are making a chocolate cake, and youngest son is amusing himself. I can feel a migraine coming on, so will take some medicine and rest.

A few things have precipated this mood. My spiritually wandering son came by for a visit on Monday, and after we got over our jitters, had a good visit. He seemed close to tears when he left, not for anything that was said, but I got the impression he had a moment of regret for what he's doing. A passing glimmer, but a glimmer nonetheless.

And at my mom's yesterday, it looked like the right side of her face was swollen, no tooth issues, but she said she slept on her hand. Called her just now, and it's still swollen. This bothers me a great deal,  especially with her having a stroke history now.

Oh me.

Bed is definitely the place for me.  Must rest.  I can hear the chickens clucking outside my bedroom window and that's a comfort. They're all full from eating a plate of spaghetti. A visual to leave you with.  :)

Breakfast for me and the girls

Another Sunday

A week has passed since I've posted. Busy, but not overly so.

Have been on a spiritual and emotional high....one of those times when you're tucked so closely to the Lord that you witness prayers being answered swiftly. Sadly not so in the case of our son who's living with his girlfriend. Heavy grieving on my part, shaking my head and willing tears. Not a happy situation. And another son is causing me concern as well in his dating life. Please. Really, please.

Letting things go that I can't control. Yielding. Surrender. All good words on what I've had to do.

I'm learning to take life very slowly in the midst of my internal dissarray. Thankfully He continues to gift me with joy within the heartache. ~john 16:33

We had Church

Confirmations this morning.  Second son came, which was a gift for all of us...the least one especially wanted him there.  He's usually wrapped up in the inner-city church where's he's a member.  Nice for this momma to have an additional child sit on our pew.  Well, we overflowed and took up part of an additional one, but who's complaining?  My heart was full.  Sweet Indian boyfriend was there too for oldest daughter's confirmation.

And the Holy Spirit was in evidence.  Tears.  Lots of that.  A sweet sermon from our Bishop, and he usually cries at some point when he gives the lesson, and I'm always drawn to that.

He spoke about the verses in the New Testament where the Lord says He'll supply all our needs.  He paused and asked if we really believed that.  Serious pause.  A head-shaking moment.  Magical.  For a brief bit of time I actually believed in the truth of that Scripture.  

And then the doubt sneaks in.

May my faith grow this week.  And may I actually believe the Truth of His Word.

This morning

I've taken countless photos of my tea tray in the morning.  The cups change, as does my oatmeal bowl, but rarely anything else.  Sometimes the light is just right coming in the window, or if the weather is cool, I'll take it out with the chickens.  

There's just something about it.  Calming.  Sets the tone for the day.  A morsel of quiet that's just all mine.  I guard it jealously.  Light a candle, drink my tea and I'm good.  Today I sat in the living room, dimly lit with just the morning sun coming in through the curtains---pumpkin candle for scent, with Pug Daisy in my lap.  A pretty sweet slice of Heaven.

And today is clear of any responsibility, which rarely happens.  With it being Confirmation Sunday tomorrow, another person is buying flowers from the florist for the service, so my altar flower duty is clear.  Two of our girls are being confirmed and have been going to classes at church all summer.  Oldest daughter and the least one are the ones, along with about 7 others.  We'll have a sweet service, then a dinner.  

Looking forward to it very much.  

Ritual

"When tea becomes ritual, it takes its place at the heart of our ability to see greatness in small things....The tea ritual:  such a precise repetition of the same gestures and the same tastes; accession to simple, authentic and refined sensations, a license given to all, at little cost, to become aristocrats of taste, because tea is the beverage of the wealthy and of the poor; the tea ritual, therefore, has the extraordinary virtue of introducing into the absurdity of our lives an aperture of serene harmony.  Yes, the world may aspire to vacuousness, lost souls mourn beauty, insignificance surrounds us.  Then let us drink a cup of tea.  Silence descends, one hears the wind outside, autumn leaves rustle and take flight, the cat sleeps in a warm pool of light.  And, with each swallow, time is sublimed."~from The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery

~ ~ ~
Everyday I have tea in the morning, without question, just as you see in the photo.  Everyday.  Sanity in a teapot.  

'Move On' by Vicki Courtney

"My healing journey began when I finally granted myself permission not to be okay.  Not to stay there forever, of course, but rather to acknowledge that not being okay is a perfectly normal part of the Christian journey."

Excellent quote and it, pretty much, sizes up the whole gist of Vicki Courtney's book called Move On.  For the most part, I enjoyed the book, but for me it began to lag somewhere in the middle when I got bogged down in too many stories.  Too much personal information.  

While I understand the necessity for folks to air their pains, I really don't agree with the wisdom of telling every little secret.  For others to be blessed through your messes, is it necessary to share your family's hidden secrets as well?  

Yes, life is very messy and Christians should be the first to admit that they go to church with a lot of sinners, who are also saved.  We need to get over ourselves and our need to be perfect.  Point taken, and Courtney shares tips in achieving a greater self esteem, which I'm in favor of.  But not at the cost of too much information.  We shouldn't have to bear it all to the public at large in order to find peace.

(i received this book free to review from BookLookBloggers)

Taking a moment...

~painting by carl spitz

...and praying for Grace today.  

I was out in the front yard, greeting my husband as he came home from work yesterday and was shocked at the state of the flower beds.  I've been blinded by all the doings of our children, and have seriously neglected the outside of our home.  It's awful.  Weeds and more weeds.  And all the black-eyed Susans need cutting back, as does the Echinacea.  It really looks pathetic, but not unlike the interior of my heart.

With school back in session, I've got an opportunity to re-think and re-organize my thought processes.  

Seems, at least for me, I need the routine of homeschooling to get my life back in gear.  I hear other mothers say the same thing.  Summer gives us license to do 'whatever' and often we get sloppy in our personal lives.  Well, I do.

And while I'd like to have the energy to yank dead flowers and weed to my heart's content, my energy level is no-where near full enough to tackle that, even with the kids' help.  My spirit is exhausted.

So will probably just content myself with baby steps.  If I do nothing, our house and garden will eventually resemble our neighbor's house, where I'm still plant-sitting.  A trip to her son's that would last 3 weeks, has now reached the 7th week.  Seriously?  While I love her back garden, with all her herbs, her house is another matter.  She lives in squalor, and I tend to think of that as a mental type of illness---to be content with living in the midst of filth.  Going over there daily to check her house and water her plants, when they need it, wears on me.  It's not unlike sticking your head inside the garbage can on a daily basis.  Not very inspiring.  Her Zen tendencies don't cover tidiness, but allowing dust and dirt to have their way just as she allows weeds to lord over her back garden.  There's no self-control.

As a result of all this mindfulness, I'll search out Beauty today.  I painted my nails yesterday, and while the girls do that all the time, I don't tend to take the time.  But, I realized how nice they look, and Gary does like me to fuss a bit, which is rare.  Taking to create Beauty in our home and with myself is a very good thing.  Makes everyone happy.

Hope you can take the time to find some as well.

Wednesday's thoughts

The second day of school went swimmingly.  Wasn't sure earlier how it'd go, being that youngest son who graduates in May/June is such a non-talker.  Well, unless he's worked up about something, or excited.  Very introverted, but a bit more involvement in conversations especially related to schoolwork is appreciated.  You'd think that after teaching him for all these years he'd get it.  Speak to me!  The girls (12 and 15 years old) are best friends, so very willing to be involved.  They have one another to bat things off of.  As it was today, we went over his Trigonometry and involved the girls as well, and I read from TS Eliot's Murder in the Cathedral, which they all seemed to enjoy.  Some other things in Poetry, and we called it an afternoon.  A slow glide into the school year.  

Took my herbal concoctions, since the day began as a bad Mental Health Day.  Had to round up my bottles, and it always helps, as did a nap mid-afternoon.  Actually, with the high alcohol content of my tinctures, you have to wonder if the herbs help, or that swift shot of brandy/vodka.  Kidding.

Or not.

Now working in my head on a list of the 10 most important books I've ever read that I was tagged with on FB by a girlfriend.  Stumped on the answer.  I read ALL THE TIME, and to limit myself to ten is a bit challenging.  She says to not over-think it.  Also hard.  I overthink as a hobby.

Will post the books here when I get it all figured out.