'We Cannot Be Silent' by R. Albert Mohler, Jr.

As a Christian, I feel I'm expected to know certain things and be able to support my views.  But with a considerable series of events unfolding in regards to same-sex marriage and acceptance of what was, at one time, labeled wrong by most folks, I shake my head.  Can't keep up.  And with the pressure of the media and outspoken individuals both online and on the television, it's hard to stand strong.

The world seems bent on twisting what God created as holy.  To muddy the water to such an extent that many Christians are left confused.  We know what we believe, yet are bullied into keeping our mouths shut.

In We Cannot Be Silent, the author, R. Albert Mohler, Jr. gives detailed information, stating God's plan for marriage and how our government and society have gone way left of that ideal.  He shares about different individuals who scoff at the Bible, saying it must be abandoned, that it was written by those who had no idea of what we'd be experiencing.  He shows that those who oppose God's ways are heading so dramatically in the other direction, all to discredit our Creator.  To defend base behavior.  

This book is an encouragement.  He stands strong and I now have the information I need to defend what I believe.

(i received this book free to review from booklookbloggers)

'The Art of Work' by Jeff Goins

The Art of Work is a title that I didn't quite understand at first.  I had to read the book.  Shortly into it, Jeff (the author) quotes a friend, Jody, who said this:  "One way of knowing our gifting is when something that seems easy to us doesn't seem easy to others.  I kept thinking, How hard could it be? Maybe I could help people do this...What seemed so hard for so many people seemed easy to me."

That in few words sums up Jeff's goal in writing this guide.

He encourages the reader to seek more.  To really give some thought to what inspires them, brings them joy and feels right.  Seems we clutter our minds too much with the thoughts of others and their expectations of us.  It really is more simple than we'd expect, to know what drives us.

Write down the major events of your life.  Jeff suggests this.  See how one event leads to another.  Find a pattern.  Just thinking about that forces you to looking at your life in a unique way.  Deeper.

Success isn't instantaneous, but with diligence and a consistent enthusiasm (the hard part), a life's work can be discovered.  He stresses that we expect things to come to us quickly, and in this present-day focus on 'get it now', that's not a surprise.  But in The Art of Work, work is necessary to reach your goal.  Keep at it and focus.

I'd definitely recommend this book to anyone who's clueless about their future, perhaps like a new high school or college graduate.  But even so, a more mature adult can also grow with his suggestions.  

More information can be found at http://artofworkbook.com/

(i received this book free to review from speakeasy)

Wednesday afternoon

Lights flickering again yesterday, and in a bad way.  It stopped a week or so ago, and we just let our concerns go with it.  My husband had bought a new fuse box, but not installed it yet.  Anyway, I went out back to look at the main electrical line from the pole and it was swinging a bit.  Came back in, tried to focus on other things (since, quite frankly, this has terrified me), and the lights began to flicker once more.  Went back outside, swinging line again and squirrel glaring at me from the next door neighbor's garage.  An aha moment.

Husband called the utility company, they came out last night and found the line connecting to the house had a corroded part and some loose wires.  

Such deep relief.  Never occurred to us that it was an outside problem.

With this anxiety I've grown accustomed to, the least thing (this wasn't least in my book) makes me so nervous.  Even out with the kids today, daughter's car seemed to make a funny noise, I'm thinking flat tire, but it was only the back window, which was open, taking in some air.  Windy too, so that was easily explained.  Still, it freaked me out.  And I'm usually so calm, at least seemingly so on the outside.  

When life keeps throwing you curveballs, it's easy to become overly sensitive to the smallest situation.

Reading A Year to Clear by Stephanie Bennett Vogt and she asks in the lesson today a question something like this:  What situation gets under your skin, and what can you do to unplug from it?  My main driving-me-nuts situation is our oldest son's relationship and living arrangement with his p*rn star girlfriend.  It obsesses me and travels in my head all the time.  I can't live like this anymore.  

So, Advent New Year's resolution is to focus on not focusing on my children.  For a mom, this is a major undertaking.  Otherwise I'll go flamin' crazy.  Not an option.

'One More Step' by Rachel Mojo

Sometimes you read a book and a particular emotion or thought stays with you.  Might be good, or the opposite, but still, something lingers.  With Rachel Mojo's book, One More Step---the taste left is a sweetness.

She's lived through a lot of pain, including a failed marriage, a marriage to another believer no less, to a man who appeared to just let go, yet even great effort couldn't save it.  She has a daughter with a life-limiting disease, which maybe more than anything else in her life has lent her that sweetness.  She's not bitter, but worn and sensitive to others who have experienced or are living through disappointments.  Those times when life surprises, and not in a good way.

One thing that struck me more than anything else was this:  In the discussion questions she asks, "Have you ever received permission from a friend to ache freely?  If so, how did it make you feel?"

I find that awesome and a bit sad.  We tend to stuff our pain inside, not sharing, being ashamed of what we live with.  Rachel tells us to not feel bad about what God allows, but to grow with it.  She speaks of a word she heard Him speak to her:

"Girl, when you feel like giving up, that is definitely not the time to give up.  When you feel like giving up, that is when you need to rely on my strength and remember my promises.  The feeling of wanting to give up is temporary; the joy you seek is permanent.  True joy is not relevant to physical location or type of service.  True joy can be found only in me."

(i received this book to review from blogging for books)

'Lay it Down' by Bill Tell

Bill Tell, a former VP with the Navigators, suffered a major breakdown just prior to a 4-day missions conference held away from his home.  His wife went to that day's services, and he stayed behind in their friend's guest bedroom, hoping the anxiety would pass.  Nonetheless, he went to the evening's service, but only felt worse.  He was terrified.  The anxiety didn't go away, and he spent the next ten months going to doctors, taking anti-depressant medicines---anything to help the situation.

Finally, with the help of a respected Christian counselor, Bill was able to find relief.  

The bottom line was that he had lived his whole life trying to please others, and was never able to believe he was good enough---thinking he was of less worth than those he ministered to.  There was no peace or victory, just pain.

I was encouraged that a man in such a place of responsibility was willing to share this story.  Folks go around with a game face on, pretending to be able to manage, all the while dying inside.  He goes into great detail about events in his childhood provided part of the pattern of self-hate, if you want to call it that.

In the book, he goes through steps of recovery. He says, "I would figure out everyone's expectations of me, and I would meet and surpass every one.  I would be everything people wanted and approved of.  Little did I know it would lead me straight into captivity, the captivity of being a people-pleaser."

He stresses Romans 8:1 which says, "There is....no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus."

"...some of us punish ourselves for the sins we commit, sometimes continuing to do so for years. We feel we deserve to be the victim of our sins, to feel bad, to be punished, so we wage war on ourselves, beating ourselves physically, emotionally, and spiritually.....We demean ourselves.  Sometimes we try to earn God's love back by doing something meritorious, sacrificial, or heroic."

Exactly.  Lay it Down is a wonderful book for those of us who fit the 'not good enough' profile.

(i received this book free to review from tyndale)

The day after...

Everyone who works outside the house is away from home now.  Husband at his shop, and oldest daughter at the bookstore.  Youngest son, who's house-sitting some church friends over the holiday, is here.  He sleeps there and then we pick him up noon-ish, he spends the day, then goes back after dinner.  Pretty lucrative gig.

The girls are quiet.  Middle one is writing quotes in one of her notebooks and listening to music and the least is watching The Secret Garden.  I'm roasting a thirteen pound turkey (just a baby), as opposed to the 21 pounder from yesterday.  After the boys took home leftovers, it was, pretty much, picked over.  Today's is just for us.  Making another smaller pan of stuffing as well.  We're kind of greedy turkey eaters.

Son who has a male companion texted a photo of his full plate to him, and he asked if our son could bring some leftovers home.  I had to laugh.  They'd been to the other boy's mom's house for lunch earlier in the day, and our son came here for dinner.  Trying to, at least, get my head around him having a boyfriend.  Man, it's hard.  Makes you cock your head, saying, HUH?  Anyway, I fixed a plate to take to him.  I admit, we do a bang-up Thanksgiving table.  My mother's heart wants to invite him to our Christmas dinner, but not sure what my husband would say to me even bringing it up.  My husband did crack a smile when I shared about our son's young man wanting the leftovers.  He is someone's son, just as our boy is.

Wisdom is often so elusive.

Yesterday was a blessing.  Really.  All the boys in town came for dinner, and we got a call from son in California.  Everyone here seemed to have a good time---nothing much to add.  No drama.  Much prayer offered up beforehand.  Hard to sit still after they left, knowing their lives are such a worldly wasteland.  Married son and his wife delivered house-sitting son to his destination after our meal, and when they'd left, the girls said married son had been drinking before he got here.  Thankfully, his wife drove them when they left.  I'll tell you----our kids are so curious about what's out there and sometimes don't seem to want to rein it in.  We're tee-totallers at our house (husband's past makes us so), and to even think about drinking is out of our frame of reference.  

Turning off my brain.  The rest of the day should be nice and restful.  Window's up, sprinkling outside.  Thinking we won't get any cold weather.  Folks just west of us are getting ice, but I believe we'll be spared that.  Thankful for that and many things.  

Hope you're well.  Take care.

A brief, quiet moment

~milk giving me the death stare

Milk, chicken of my heart, is now molting and has a big bare spot on her duff.  She just waddles around like everything's fine, which is wonderful.  In strict contrast to Anastasia who appeared to be suffering from a stroke.  She'd have to trace alongside the coop fence to get where she was going, since she couldn't run in a straight line.  Thankfully she's fine now.  Must mess with their nervous systems, all that feather dropping.  (The above-photo is from last week, when Anastasia would get trapped in the corners of the yard, indicated, and when Milk was still gorgeous.)

House is relatively tidy.  The girls have been awesome.  The least one polished our sweet collection of silver (all from my dear friend, Tina, but about three serving pieces and a fork and some knives from my grandparents), a job she loved.  Middle daughter has spent the last two days freshening up the paint in our 'only' bathroom.  Sixty plus years of yuck in that room, which has always been a major eyesore.  We're only the third owners of this house, but the second owners were self-improvement junkies, sadly they were amateurs.  Plastered 12" ceiling tiles indiscriminately, put up paneling (which we immediately painted over) and hung Masonite on the bathroom walls.  Still, I love the house, but like all of us, it has its flaws.  Tall son, the one in California, remarked on the bathroom ceiling last time he was in town, which has the tiles.  They're coming loose around the fan, and he said they looked about to fall.  I reminded him that they've been doing that for years.  And if they fall, they'll fall softly.

Not on my radar.

Resting now.  Scrambled eggs and buttered toast for dinner.  Church service.  The girls will make pies when we get back home.  We're on a roll, and I ain't lettin' nothin' get me down.

Take care all.

The countdown begins...

The holidays, hold for me, stress that's not present at other times.  Tension that seems to pool in my chest.  Anxiety that seems necessary.  

I'm learning that my life has paths woven in it that are difficult, and it's hard sometimes to find a peaceful place in my heart, but I'm determined to find that place.  To not give in to the pressures that come at me from the outside of this house.  Fortunately this time, it's not about my children.  Something to celebrate.  But from my mother and her needs.  Her inability to communicate well enough, and her child-like forgetfulness.  It's hard.

To want a day for myself that doesn't feel the drag of need.  Of frustration.  Of not doing things well-enough.  Even in her stoke-laden brain, she presses me to do things that are more than what I can manage.  Demands, though small, are just one more thing.  The straw that breaks the camel's back.

I'm done.

Tomorrow I will hold up with my girls and bake.  Play Christmas music and vacuum and dust.  Sweep the kitchen floor.  Close out the world.  Maybe go to church for Thanksgiving's services.  Sit in the dim, candlelit and quiet atmosphere of church and drink in the silence.

My health demands that I place limits on my time.  To say no, and to say it frequently.  To be good enough.  

I worry that this anxiety with become a permanent guest.  No.  I have to separate myself from everything right now that doesn't bless me.  If that sounds selfish, then maybe more of us should be selfish.  Our lifestyles seem to draw too much life out of us.  And with tending to my mom, along with help from my family in this house, it's a drain.  Those who live out of town have no idea.  But I understand that.

Here at the very beginning of the holiday season, it's important to take care.  Self-care.  And I'm thinking I'm not the only one who needs to heed this.  You (me) are the only one who can.  If it's not life-threatening what's asked of you, maybe say no.  Life has the quality of texting now.  Do it now.  No.

(listening on Spotify to Ray Montagne's For the Summer and Adele's Hello)

Pre-Thanksgiving thoughts

Brief post.  Cut my little finger on my left hand while arranging the flowers at church yesterday... those secateurs are sharp.  Hard to type with a huge gob of gauze and tape on my finger. Sympathetic noises appreciated.

Bought all we needed for Thanksgiving dinner today, including a stop tonight at the dollar store for new glasses that actually match.  Little green stemware that ought to play off of our red/white transferware nicely.

Went out by myself yesterday after church, because I could, and knew the week would be busy.  Had a book I was going to get at the library, but found it and the rest of the matching trilogy at the library bookstore....Sigrid Undset's Kristin Lavransdatter series.  And Rosamunde Pilcher's Christmas book and two little Jan Karon children's Christmas books.  I'm consistently amazed at what I find there, and so inexpensive.  Best kept secret in town.

Well, tomorrow is cleaning and decorating for Thanksgiving Day.  Wednesday is Making Pie and Tearing Up White Bread for My Husband's Yankee Stuffing Day.  Tonight I rest.

Y'all take care.

Saturday night

Something acted up with our electricity on Friday, which may require my husband installing a new switch box (which he bought today), and it sent me into a panic, something that's easily done. Fell asleep last night in a totally fearful state.  I told my husband that my mind often goes to the place of the 'worst case scenerio' and he jokes that it must s*ck to be me.  Had to laugh.  He doesn't get this sort of fear, being able to blow things off.  But you know, rarely does that other shoe ever drop.  I should know this.

This morning as I was sitting having my tea with Violet the Pug in my lap, I spoke to the Lord about this dilemma of mine.  This fear. Visualized Him sitting near me, speaking such love.  Quieting my flying heart.  Do I even understand how He wishes me to not be so traumatized by such simple (and easily remedied) situations?  Probably not.  My stress level this year maxed out.  Guess this is normal.  Least for me until I get my mental health back.  We're working on it. 

* * *

Oldest daughter and I went out for the afternoon today, which was very healing.  Went to lunch and then to a small town just to the east of us.  One of the shops in the Town Square was having a sale and will be closing after the new year begins.  I was able to find some linens (two sets of cloth napkins and a tablecloth), and will give some of the brocade napkins to married son and his wife along with a decorating book for Christmas.  Love this sort of shopping.  I spent only nine dollars on these things.  Amazing.  Also got a Confederate Flag pin to wear on my denim jacket.  Quite honestly, it was my favorite purchase.

As we walked around the Square as we were ready to leave, we noticed a bluegrass band practicing in the gazebo, preparing for a wedding.  With both autumn and Christmas decorations round about, the green looked so pretty.  White folding chairs set up, the groomsmen in grey tuxes and bridesmaids wearing beautiful black dresses, it was all wonderfully festive.  And hopeful.  Though very windy!

* * *

Seems tomorrow will be the lull before the true busyness begins.  It's the last Sunday to have flowers to arrange because other women handle the Advent Poinsettias and altar decorating.  I'll have a break, which will be grand.  I enjoy doing the flowers, but time off will be nice---not ashamed to admit that.

Time to turn off my head.  Looking forward to Sunday.

(listening to You Are God Alone by the Women of Faith)

Friday morning

Gradually I'm taking out a few Christmas-like things.  Mostly books, but our dressed-in-pretend-fur Santa as well.  He stands about 15" or so, and he's the first decoration I put out.  

Anyway, in my search, I found the sweetest book in our lawyer's bookshelves.  This is a 1925 copy of The Essays of Elia, a book by Charles Lamb.  This one looks to be a student's copy, with lots of pencil marks in the front of it, but I don't know the person it belonged to, unless someone in my family is acquainted with a Sam H. Johnson.  I committed the huge sin of using some masking tape to mend some loose joints in the pages, but who's going to care?  It's not being sold, and I'm the only one who will read it.  Just needing something to get into that's settling.  Plus the book is the most adorable size at 5-1/2" x 4-1/2" and about 1-1/2" thick.  Nice brown cloth covers.  Apparently it's a book mentioned in  Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, which I read quite awhile back.  Don't remember though talk of the book.  I just want to walk around with it in my hands.  Sort of like the guy in The English Patient who carries around Herodotus' The Histories.

* * *

Home today.  For dinner it's Kale, Italian Sausage, Cannellini bean soup, without the Kale, using baby Lima Beans (which I love) instead.  Improvising.  Just couldn't get my head around buying Kale.  A little goes a long way.

Rest and washing bedsheets.  A good drying day.  More minor tidying.  A restful Friday.

Thursday noon

Today is one of those days I want to attempt to live more in the mindset of a Luddite (one who resists technology, etc).  I have a few books on hold at the library, two of them are ones by Mary Randolph Carter, who takes wonderful photos which celebrate the old and worn.  A personal mindset lately as I look at our house with new eyes.  Old and worn.  Yes, indeed.  Technology reminds me of the benefits of the perfect and sleek, which I'm not and don't live in at present. 

Banged up house trim, kitchen drawers that close only with a waggle, and drafty windows.  This is my life, and it's one that suits me.  Candles that warm up dark corners, drawn curtains in the evenings, and the curls of smoke from a hot cup of tea are settling, and very fitting for older houses.

I want to breathe deeply and just relax.  The holidays loom, with Thanksgiving only a week away, and many things yet to buy.  Making do with less in order to have the money to go around.  But it's do-able.  Have to focus on the comfort and chores of just this day, and avoid borrowing trouble.

One thing that seems to work for me is to keep busy for, say 20-30 minutes, then sit down.  Think about it and get up again after a few minutes.  On and off.  Work and rest.  Keeping a rapid pace just doesn't work for me, making me overtired before the job is done.  

After getting our schoolwork done today the younger girls and I will get some groceries.  Just a few.  Just enough for a day or two.  Easy dinners.  Cream for my tea (which I had to do without this morning, making me very sad), bread, makings for pizza now that the oven is fixed, maybe some soup.  

Quiet thoughts in the midst of the bustle which you can feel when you shop.  I won't give in.  I won't give in.  At least not yet.

Mid-week

Oddly enough, I believe the most excitement this week was on Monday night when the kids and I were shopping for my mom's groceries.  Was just passing by the frozen turkey display, saw about three over-twenty-pounders (Butterballs, no less) mixed in with the smaller birds and put a big one in the cart.  At 89 cents a pound, I thought that was a steal, especially since I'd read that the ones this large would be hard to find.  Sorta happy about that.  Will buy a smaller turkey to roast ahead of time on Thanksgiving Eve night, so's to have enough for leftovers and sandwiches.  

Actually, the best part of Thanksgiving dinner, to my way of thinking, is the day after.  Cold turkey on white bread with a dash of salt and mayonnaise is what I call delicious.  

* * *

Today is good.  Lots of wind yesterday, and last night just before the rain came, the wind was downright scary.  Gary and I sat on the front porch after dinner in the dark, watching the trees blow across the street, and I was mentally praying for God's protection. The tops of the trees were just whipping.  Our neighborhood is full of old oaks, as I've mentioned before, and we cringe and pray when it's stormy.

It's always amazing when the wind actually calms when you pray for the Lord to intervene when the weather is dangerous.  Maybe that's one reason, just one reason, that the Bible includes the story about Him calming the waters when the disciples were in the boat.  To prove He can and will do this.  And He still does.  I just shake my head.

Later last night we heard about trees falling on cars, and trees down along with wires---in our same part of town.  Thankfully nobody was hurt.  Now, I'm not getting cocky about this, but do credit the Lord with sparing us.  I'm no more special than anyone else, but the wind was outrageous.  I do understand the rain falls on the just and unjust.  But really, we do have the ability to ask for Him to intervene.  Either we just play the victim and give up to whatever the world shoves our way, or we ask for help.  I ask you, which is the wiser route?

* * *

Getting the house ready for company, even just my boys.  Want the house to sparkle for next week.  Having things done gradually allows for not-so-much-pulling-out-of-hair next week.  Dusting bookshelves, and all-around tidying up.  All pleasant when you're not rushed.

You take care.

Sunday afternoon

Took down the previous chicken post, being that I wrote it and published it on the day Paris suffered such tragedy.  After I published, I saw the news, then didn't feel so frivolous anymore.  Seemed heartless to talk about my bald hen while folks were hurting so badly.

But today is another day.  Painful for many, but must keep my perspective.

Drinking a cup of hot tea.  With the heat finally on inside---the house feels all comforting and cozy.  Figured it's time.  Got three boxes of Celestial Seasonings tea last week.  One is a Vanilla Chamomile (can't remember the official name of it or the next two), a Gingerbread and a Pumpkin Pie.  Very nice.  The Pumpkin is caffeinated, but the others are not.  I'll buy all three again (which never happens!) when we run out.  I'm not partial to seasonal teas with the smack of red hots in them (which these aren't), but all of these are very smooth and delicious.

* * *

Feeling all emotional today.  Two sons came by yesterday, and my heart feels such tugs.  Newly married son was one of our visitors and he's such a hot mess, but as my husband says, "He's just such a genuinely nice guy."  Which is true.  He's just not found his place in the world yet, but he's trying.  The effort is hard to watch, knowing he's got to find his way, and us not being able to do anything about it.  Not that we would, but we continue to hold him up.  He'll be fine, just may take awhile.  And it's not like I'm waiting for him to arrive, but I would like to see him turning to the church and the Lord once again.

And our son who lives with his boyfriend.  Talk about conflicting.  He seems to be very settled and grounded, but his lifestyle makes hearing about his life a bit mind-numbing.  It's perplexing.  Maybe of all our sons, this is the one I've spent the most time with, and I feel very, very close to him.  It's just odd.  Let me just say that.  Odd.

Cherishing the idea of this week being peaceable.  A bit of cleaning in preparation for Thanksgiving, and lots of rest.  Hope for all of us, we can enjoy this, the first major holiday of the season and not overdo.  Keep our heads where they need to be, without any unnecessary drama.  Again, it's all about perspective.

Take care.

Birthday boy

Sometimes there are no words.  They just don't come.  Maybe that's a sign that life is feeling safe. 

 

My husband did have a birthday, the last in a series of three-in-a-row.  Two daughters had birthdays just days before his.  This was the big sixty birthday, which seems a bit awesome, and he insisted on 60 candles, which caused much smoke after the blowing out part.  The girls blew up sixty balloons for him too, we made his favorite dinner, really, it was all fun.  I met him when I was 23 and he was 26, so for the years to have passed so swiftly is mind-boggling.  Sixty?  You have got to be kidding.  Oh whatever.  I am so very thankful to have the years with him.  Love.  That.  Man.

Planning on buying the oven part tomorrow, which we desperately need.  Two weeks today until Thanksgiving, which has crept up on me as well.  So grateful we get along with all of our children, regardless of the whirlwind of this year.  Oldest son was here today with gifts for the birthday folks.  Hadn't seen him in awhile, so I loved seeing him.  Getting my hands around him for a hug.  

And talked to California son yesterday and he'll be here for three weeks to visit at Christmas.  

Really, I'm letting go of a lot of grief.  God has the kids in His more-than-capable hands.  I can rest in that for now.  The holidays require such mental energy, and I just want to cook and welcome my family.  No time for angst.

Fussy britches...

So, I was sitting in church before the service began, leaned over and told my husband, "Okay, today I just hate people."  He gives me a grin with that bearded face.  Asked if something specific had happened and I said that, no, I just hated folks.  Today.

Here's the deal.  I'm tired of people-pleasing.  Of so many Marthas at our church.  Such self-sacrificing women who just plain wear. me. out.  

I screw up.  Okay?  I really screw up sometimes.  And, you know, I don't have to bow to that pressure.  With God, I'm good enough right now,  Today.  I love that.  We need, as the body of Christ, to stop beating up on one another.  And do less, not more.  Take care of what's in front of us without fabricating more works.

There was a meeting after church about Christmas preparations and all the Advent goodness.  Gary was there and he volunteered to deliver the presents to the Neighborhood Christian Center in December, among other things.  Folks (the Marthas) were offering to do all sorts of things.  Okay, fine.  Be that way.  These are a couple of women who are already booked, but they just won't let up.  I promise, it'll get done.  But to load more on your already-weighted-down-backs is ridiculous.

I asked Gary afterward if I should've been there (honestly, I wasn't part of any committee who was supposed to be present). and he said I could've probably come and offered to do something, but to his credit, no pressure was laid on me.  He's a good man, even though he's got way too much energy.  I said I'd prefer to do things I felt the Lord setting in front of me than doing things just because of a void on the checklist.  I'm really big in following your spiritual giftedness, but really, anyone can take out the trash, you know?  No reason to be persnickety, but doing to be doing isn't the way.  And really, if some things DON'T get done, what's the worst that would happen?

Yeah, that's what I thought too.

Sadly, though, we won't have a Christmas Pageant this year.  My favorite thing.  I'll just have to get over it.  Correction:  Oldest daughter heard Gary and I talking about it just now and will offer to organize it.  Thrills me to bits.  So like the pageant from Sam Elliott's movie Prancer, a personal favorite, for obvious reasons.  Ahem.  Focus.  Focus.

More joy.  That's what I need and want.  And anybody remember me telling what my mom said the day after her stroke two years ago?  She said, "I wish I'd had more fun."

Words to keep tucked in your heart.

(listening to Toto's Africa and Rosanna)

Week's end

It's a funny thing.  When you give your body a chance to rest and recover from whatever-it-is-that-ails-you, sometimes you feel worse than before.  I think it's our body's way of saying, "Hold up!  Give me some more time."  That's me now.  I don't have any disease, but just a continual exhaustion.  Better, but not cured.

And in my necessary quietness, I got to thinking about the Internet and how different our lives would be without it.  Blessed in ways, but cursed in others by being online.

If we didn't have the Internet:  So many books wouldn't be shared or even written.  So many narcissists wouldn't have an audience.  Children behaving better, marriages richer, but fewer recipes to make and fewer friends to claim.  See, good and bad.  And maybe one of the most significant---better self-images if we didn't continually inundate ourselves with comparisons to folks we don't even know.  Even this afternoon, I was looking at some blogs I follow, and after I turned off my phone, looked around and felt awful.  Like I was living in a dump, which I don't, but still, it felt like it.

* * *

Oldest daughter went to a tea party at a new friend's house yesterday and the husband was installing rabbit ears in their attic.  They'd just cancelled Comc*ast for their cable company and needed the antenna to get a signal.  Fewer stations, yes, but free.  We've done the same.  My husband got online and made from scratch an antenna for our bedroom tv and we'd never taken down the big old antenna on our roof, which is linked to our living room set.  Works great.  Not sure how many stations we get, but maybe ten.  It varies, to be honest.  

Our Internet connection is through our cellphones, with a gadget giving us a hotspot (using a gadget called a hockey puck or something like that), which allows us a certain amount of fast-speed, then unlimited slower-speed through our laptops.  In about two weeks each month we use up the fast, and now we're slogging along.  Like the old phone connection.  Don't load photos, watch videos, or hope for anything to load quickly.  But, so much less expensive.  Biggest plus, for households with children---you can turn off the hotspot.  Love that.

So many folks are going backward.  Less technology, more focus on less.  Think on that one.  We jumped en masse on the bandwagon with all that the Internet offered so many years ago, and later on (maybe) realized how intrusive that lifestyle was going to be in our daily lives.

Too much stimuli makes for a life feeling like a body after a heavy meal.  And all the health food you can stuff into your face won't remedy that unless a mental purge is engaged.

And so it goes.

Wednesday evening

A day at home, celebrating oldest daughter's birthday.  Presents, cake, quietness.  All restful.

* * *

Funny how the Lord puts things in front of you in a timely manner.  I got a copy of Sue Bender's second book Everyday Sacred (love that title) at the library bookstore recently and cracked it open last night.  Just what I needed.  Funny too, since I didn't take to her first book Plain and Simple.  Here are some quotes:

"These incomplete tasks weigh on me---my mind often focuses on what I'm not getting done rather than on what I am doing." 

"He has a quality I've read about in books but have rarely experienced---'a still point in the midst of activity.'"

"...not paying attention to what my body needed."

"We all need a certain amount of fallow time."

"How quickly calm disappears."

* * *

I've been too busy lately.  With ordinary life.  Not adding anything to my to-do list, but 

just not setting limitations on what's reasonable.  I look SO tired.  Still dealing with my taxed adrenal glands.  Say what you will, folks who don't believe it's a real ailment.  I'm here to tell you otherwise.

We all could do with some rest.  Deep rest.  

I had a brief, very brief few minutes this afternoon of feeling totally aware.  You know those times you feel in the zone, focused and into whatever you're doing.  It's relaxing in some odd way.  All I was doing was cutting up the cooked chicken to put back in our dinner pot.  The flash of feeling totally attuned to my task was wonderful, but as soon as it was there, it was gone.  Very elusive.  I partly blame interruptions.  Remembered I had to pay one of my mom's bills over the phone that I'd forgotten to do earlier.  Whoosh.  Peace of mind out the window.

It's all about being attentive.  Attention completely on whatever's going on, not allowing anything to break the peace.  Wonderful when it happens, but it's sort of like aligning the planets.  Rarely occurs.

Must practice it some more.

(listening to Home at Last by Josh Garrels)

Thinking about stuff...

Got to thinking this morning about how rigid I can be.  How hemmed in I behave in regards to certain things.  Not sure why, but I think I was raised that way.  And really, I believe in my younger days, that was more the norm.  Black and white lines, not so many grey areas either in life, religion or politics.

Now life is more messy, I know mine is.  My children are messy, and my house....oh my goodness.  Blurred lines are everywhere.

* * *

Speaking of which, put some Kilz on the bathroom ceiling.  We have major mildew issues, not in the walls or anything, but on surfaces in there.  And with a house that's moving toward seventy years old, with poor ventilation in the bathroom, guess it's not surprising.  Figure I'll gradually work on that room before the holidays.  I wanted to make myself a deadline, do a bit at time until it's done.  Might take awhile.

Why am I telling you this?  Accountability, maybe.  Or, perhaps I'm embarrassed at my new daughter-in-law having to go in there when they come for Thanksgiving.  Think me a slattern.  Yeah, that's probably it.

* * *

Last fall I bought a copy of that beautiful magazine Bella Grace and was looking at it earlier.

Giving myself a break today to color outside the lines, at least this morning.  Several things caught my eye in the magazine, including this quote by Mary Oliver:  

"What I want in my life is to be willing to be dazzled---to cast aside the weight of facts and maybe even to float a little above this difficult world."

And there's a piece written by a woman called Dee Taylor and she says this:

"She lifted the expectations of herself and was instantly set free.  You know that moment when you say to yourself, 'You are doing all you can do.  And that's good enough.  THIS.  IS.  FREEDOM.'"

My girls are excellent at this.  Even how they dress is unique and full of possibilities and originality.  They all seem to have a darned good self-esteem, something longing in my own life, and their opinions of themselves are healthy.  The least one struggles a bit with this, but at 13, I think that's not unusual.  She's still in the between stages.

I think I tend to suffer from the demon of 'not good enough' and it's a constant burden I tote around.  Last week I had too many tasks at the end of the week, and I kept at it, not wanting to let anyone down.  My mom doesn't understand personal limitations anymore, maybe because she doesn't place any on herself.  She avoids doing more than she actually wants to do, and has unintentionally handicapped herself.  For example, her desire to walk without her walker hasn't been strong enough to push her to move unassisted.  She does exactly what she wants to do, no more, and in that mindset, she's able to lay a lot on me/us instead.  Her expectations from me are a bit lofty at times, though she doesn't see it.  

So for me, even though I might have more to do that is healthy, because it's my reality, I lack the ability (it seems) to say, "This is more than I can bear.  Go away, little person."

My husband is of a type A personality.  I'm not.  Say what you will about opposites attracting, and you'd be right.  I'm whatever isn't a type A.  I sit a lot.  Rather folks keep quiet, and don't favor crowds.  He's not a people person, but is very enthusiastic when he's into something.  Intense is a mild word for him.  Aggressive and a bit in your face.  But I like that in a man, for whatever reason.  

Anyway, being so introspective might be a good thing.  I analyze my behavior, maybe too much, but I like to know why stuff happens.  Why do I have such a poor self-image?  Why is there self-hate going on?  Would losing weight help that?  Not sure, because I'd have to get to the root of the problem, and I'm not sure what it is.  Maybe just giving myself room for acceptance.  Not promising that I'll love myself when ____ happens, but now.  Not when I'm thin enough, but this very day.  Not when the house is ship-shape, but right now.

Today I'm toasting blurred lines.  There's more than one way of doing things.  And yes, today I'm good enough.  Do you realize how extraordinary it is to say that?  

Thanksgiving

The following statement might need to be a blog post all to its own:

All my children, with the exception of our son who's in northern California now, will be here for Thanksgiving.  Invitations not offered as of yet (they beat me to it), but they want to be here.  Even with all our strife this year, they choose to have their knees under our table for Thanksgiving Dinner.  Even newly-married son and his wife.  

God be praised.

'Classic Human Anatomy in Motion' by Valerie L. Winslow

When I selected Valerie L. Winslow's book titled Classic Human Anatomy in Motion to review, I had our youngest son in mind, who draws several hours a day.  And while he's acquiring an impressive collection of drawing books, this has to be at the top of the list.  With examples of bone structure (including the names for all parts of the body), muscle placement, how the body moves in various positions, and diagrams showing incredible attention to small bits and pieces, this book is amazing.  

 And honestly, it's one of the finest modern-day art books I've seen.  She shows in such detail the bodies underneath the skin and bones, and that's what needs to be understood.  Our son is impressed, and from what he's said and what I've seen, it's really like a science book masked as an art book.  Human anatomy beautifully represented.  His main comment is that it's easy to find anatomy books that show a limited array of detail, but Winslow shows that detail to the extreme.  There's nothing I would add to what she's already produced.

For the seasoned artist, or a beginning art student, this is a wonderful addition to to their bookshelves.

(i received this book free to review from blogging for books)

Friday noon

Going through my library books last night, which included the newest decorating/design book from Kinfolk, called The Kinfolk Home.  I follow their FB page, and Kinfolk always has homey photos---but maybe more minimalistic than I prefer.  I enjoy spare rooms, but only in other people's homes.  The book has homes with lots of grey, black/white, and beige.  Very light on the eyes.  

But it's not cluttery enough for me.  I do like, what I call, eye clutter.  Lots of stuff.  Rooms loaded down with things to look at.  Maybe it's a security issue, but it's me.

Anyway, the photo is from the photo spread on pages 126-127 of the book.  Following page after page of clean and efficiently-designed areas, I was in the mood for more.  Here's what I saw:

I found it stunning.  Still monochromatic, as much of the book is, but so rich in textures and wonderful things.  Do find the book at the library and turn here.  I just stared and stared at these pages last night.  

* * *

Which got me on to thinking on who I am, and who I want to be for the rest of my life.  At the library bookstore yesterday, the woman who checked me out (who could've been about ten years older) commented on my braid.  (...follow along...i do have a point to make!)  She said she'd always wanted to grow her hair out like I have (it's still to my waist), but never figured her hair would be thick enough to weave a braid.  I told her that growing my hair out had been on my bucket list, and she laughed when I said it took about 15 years of not cutting it to get it this long---said she might not have that long left.  We both laughed at that.  Not likely.

So, I'm thinking....while I do still have children at home, my thinking can turn to *me* more often.  Hard to manage after years of putting them first.  I don't know.  There are things I do that are for my pleasure only, but I have a hard time fitting them in.  

And, oddly enough, letting the grey come out in my hair has been wonderful.  I'm liking to see who I am under the darker hair color.  Surprised at how quickly the grey is coming out, thinking the home color I've used is, more or less, fading and not so much having to grow out.  How 'bout that?  The least one was braiding it the other day and she commented on the silver weaving in the braid, said she thought it was pretty, and off we went.  Yes, I'm incapable of doing my own hair, not having long-enough arms to do it myself.  I need ape arms.

So, who am I when the children aren't so much in the picture?  What place do I want to fill when they've all left our nest?  My loves are design and decorating (with my Interior Design degree this is normal), an unnatural love of books (very excessive), writing, the Anglican church, and herbal studies.  That's, pretty much, who I am.  Oh, and I have all this hair.

You didn't want a bio, but you got one anyway!  The hard part is being that person more, not just as an aside.  And I think women my age suffer with this, and not sure if children cause the largest hiccup or if it's just part of the growing older syndrome.  

Just thinking about stuff.  My mind got to wandering, spurred on by those two pages, and this is what I had in my head.  My goodness.

Enjoy the day.

'The Five Times I Met Myself' by James L. Rubart

It's rare for me to receive a book to review and finish it

 in practically one sitting.  But I did.  James L. Rubart is a favorite author in our house, and he never disappoints.  I was a bit of a glutton, however, in reading The Five Times I Met Myself so quickly, actually in one gulp.

The premise of the book deals with 53-year old Brock Matthews, who's facing financial ruin.  With a successful coffee business providing for his family and brother who he's partners with, hardship comes unexpectedly.  In a strange twist, Brock goes into, what he calls lucid dreaming, where he can consciously be aware of the fact that he's dreaming while he's dreaming.

As the title says, he meets himself, but as a young man about 25-30 years younger.  The point of his dreaming is to change the future.  With the book being one part It's a Wonderful Life and part Inception, the reader is kept on his/her toes.  The book flows, might not always make sense, but it comes together beautifully in the end.

Loved it.  Our teenaged daughter is reading it now.  She's loving it as well.

(i received this book free to review from booklookbloggers)

Thursday evening

Well, here it is a week later and we finally got the new hot water heater.  I've been praying for days, that it'd be an easy (and painless) installation.  It was.  My husband and youngest son went to the hardware store this morning and got it.  And yesterday they'd man-handled the old one out of the attic, down the pull-down stairs and out on street.  The sanitation department here is wonderful about picking up just about anything you put on the street.  Didn't have to wait for them, though, since someone else got it before dark.

A bath later will be WONDERFUL.

Got out a bit by myself this afternoon, which was way overdue.  Got some library books and went to the library bookstore too.  Found some Faulkners I didn't have and one treasure, a Charlotte Bronte dated around 1897.  The book is called The Professor and includes Emma and some poetry. Beautiful book.  Three dollars, which you can't beat.

* * *

Going to have a quiet day tomorrow.  Have been, as they say, all sixes and sevens, this week.  Can't account for it.  Reading, yes.

Saturday holds middle daughter's seventeenth birthday, which she wants to be Star Wars themed, and it'll be a fun day.  Unfortunately, an old friend of the family, my mom's next door neighbor died yesterday.  I'll likely go to his funeral on Saturday afternoon.  We took Mom her groceries today, and I was able to see the children of the neighbor. We're about the same age, grew up together and hadn't seen one another in about forty years. Sweet to be called by my nickname (Missy) by folks who knew me ages ago. Very comforting, for some reason.

Anyway, we'll still have a birthday, with a pause in the middle.  Had planned on baking her pies for her day, but our oven ignitor is out and I'll have to order the part and fix it.  I'm volunteering, since fixing appliances gives me a rush.  Stuff breaks, but thankfully we're clever.

Enjoy your Fridays. :)

Rainy Monday night

Woke up a bit later than usual, with needing more sleep after yesterday's busyness.  I forget how important a good night's sleep really is to me.  So easy to stay up too late, and get up before necessary.  Seems the whole weekend was spent with one activity after another.

Today's been so sweet, though.  Got up at ten (gasp), had my tea with the Pugs in my lap.  Talk about jockeying for position.  Cleaned the kitchen of all the dishes that had piled up with baking for the dinner at church and just being lazy.  Sinks clogged.  Poured boiling water in them followed by baking soda and white vinegar, and more boiling water.  One good glug with the rubber whatchamacallit and the clog was gone.  Sometimes this requires a male figure to get on the roof to run the garden hose into the water access pipe that sticks out the roof.  Do-it-yourselfers.  That's us, like it or not.

Dusted, vacuumed, generally tidied up the main rooms.  Beat the least one to it, and she's amazing at being tidy, but sometimes I want to re-arrange and straighten.  I find it mentally settling.  Gives me focus.

Had a brief school session with the girls and then went grocery shopping for Mom and us.   Had heard that Tropical Storm Patricia would impact our weather this evening and wanted to get a jump on it.  Well.  It's raining as it has been for a couple of days.  Glorious.  But while we've had hurricane rain before (it just looks different), this seems ordinary.  Still, I find it wild that a hurricane that began in the Pacific Ocean and traveled clear across Mexico could end up in Tennessee.  Loving the rain though.  The trees are going, "Ahhhhh.  Delicious."

Anyway, I say all that to say:  This has been a wonderful day.  Have made it a practice to read our morning selection of Psalms from the Book of Common Prayer out loud. I think that the words need to be heard by our house.  And by any spirits that lurk and aren't welcome.  Since the Bible is living, it sheds life over everything that hears it.  I feel blessed afterward, and I think our home does as well.  

After we got home from the store, I burned some incense from church too.  Just trying to keep on top of it.

Sunday night

Glad to be at home.  Busy day at church.  Luncheon after services, a brief nap and then the kids and I went back to help with the Fall Festival.  Neighborhood children decorated cookies, there was a costume competition for their dogs (yes, held inside out of the rain) and while the teenagers managed the little ones, the adults visited.  Very nice for me.

Still raining.  Bliss.  The earth is soaking in the wet, which is wonderful.  It's been so dry here.

Deeply tired, but in a good way. I'm reading a book by Barbara Brown Taylor called Learning to Walk in the Dark and just finished a part where she talks about how we fret late in the day, at night, when we're powerless to do anything to fix things.  She said she'd made a list one time of things she thought of during one of those times...doctor's appointments, making a will, cleaning the refrigerator...irritating chores.  And that's the way of it.  For me today it's about my children's spiritual welfare (out of my hands), getting groceries (under my control), shopping for middle daughter's birthday on Saturday (also okay to manage), making more money magically appear in my mom's bank account (nope, not going there).  The things that drive us nuts and keep us awake, generally speaking, are those things we can't do a darn thing about.  I'll steer clear.

Will need to focus on my quiet later on tonight.  Too much time spent today with others.  Need my own company.  Began looking at The Book of Common Worship, the Presbyterian prayer book I bought, alongside Elizabeth Goudge's Towers in the Mist, which is charming.  Loving the Anglican and Catholic references.

Must go now.  Ready to put it to bed after this hectic day.  But even bathing with having to heat up kettles of water is soothing.  Washing my hair in the kitchen sink....my husband pouring warm water over my hair, is very contenting.  Quiet.  You're forced to be present and attentive in a different sort of way.  And while I'd prefer to not have a garden hose hanging out the attic stairs in the hallway, I'm not really minding.  Perspective.  It's all about that.

Saturday afternoon

In the bedroom being quiet.  Oldest daughter's at work at the bookstore, and husband is at church doing some things to prepare for the Fish Fry that's tomorrow.  We'll go in a minute to buy flowers for the altar.  Cloudy day, sort of drizzly, not near as rainy as I'd prefer.  Just mostly damp.  There's rain in Texas which I hope will swing up here, not as boisterous as they've had, but we need it so badly.

That's my story.  Oh, but here's more.

Got up at seven to let out the chickens and oldest daughter said the hot water heater was leaking again through the hall ceiling.  Went up in the attic and bailed water from the drip pan.  Why is it those pans always leak?  It's the darndest thing.  What they're made to do, they don't do.  I guess when we replace the hot water heater, we should invest in a new pan.  Or fix the leak in it.

Problem for another day.

Seems everyone in this house has more energy than I do.  Youngest son is probably the most laid-back of all my offspring.  He'll be quiet in his room drawing for hours, just enjoying the silence.  Loves being alone, but fortunately with our church involvement, he adjusts to being with people.  He's almost painfully shy, which I totally understand.  Baby steps getting him out in the world.  Or maybe not steps at all.  He should be allowed his introvert status.  I know I wasn't allowed that growing up.  Have a mom who's an extrovert and try to not do stuff yourself with things to do.  Impossible!

Now will pause, get dressed (finally) and get the flowers done.  Probably will take them by the church and go ahead and arrange them.  A restful evening ahead.  I like that.

Yes, I needed more books. Whaddaya think?

Library booksale.  The top book is a little Presbyterian Prayer Book, very much like our Book of Common Prayer.  Very sweet.  And the tan book in the middle is called The School for Wives by Andre Gide.  1929 with rough-cut pages   Not sure about it, but I stuck my face in the middle of it and the wonderful old book smell sold me.  Most excited about two hardback copies of Peter Marshall's (A Man Called Peter and Mr.Jones, Meet the Master) for oldest daughter and the Betty Crocker cookbook, 1950, which looks in perfect condition.  Over sixty years old.  How can that possibly be?  Guess the owner didn't cook.

Got the least one the Lord of the Rings Trilogy, which she's about to read, after she's finished The Hobbit.  Son got some Tolkien and middle daughter a few Ted Dekker's.

* * *

Our only snafu in life is the hot water heater that began to leak on Wednesday night.  We'll have to wait until sometime next week to replace it, so we're roughing it with heated up bowls of hot water to wash with.  Actually, it reminds me of when the power is out.  There's something about simplifying, even in an inconvenient way that is restful to me.  Go figure.

Sadly our hot water heater is in the attic, so the light fixture in the hall was full of water (I know, I know), and oldest daughter's closet got wet.  All is well now, however.  At least no lasting water damage.  The real challenge will be my husband and various boys being called to help him put in a new one, when the time comes.  Those things are heavy as sin.

But today is good.  Rain is coming, and we've not had a decent shower in over a month.  It's time.  And the weekend.  A restful one, I hope.  Can't replace the busted hot water heater yet, which is fine, and what you can't fix, don't worry about.  In time.  It'll all get done in time.

Take care and enjoy the rest of your day. :)

No comment

Practiced my winning ironing skills today with iron-on embroidery patterns.  You know those Aunt Martha, or whateverhernameis, and the old-fashioned iron-ons?  I had several in my sewing basket and the girls and I decided it'd be fun to make some as a project.  Okay, so I heated up the iron at the right setting, spread out the batiste and asked the least one which one she wanted.  She handed me the pattern and I set to transferring it to the fabric.  

One scorched pattern/piece of fabric later, I asked her to pick out a second one.  

Second scorched pattern/piece of fabric later, I repeated my request.

Third scorched pattern/piece of fabric later, I asked her to see if there were any left that she liked.

Fourth scorched pattern/piece of fabric later I abandoned the iron and oldest daughter took it up.

First try, she does it.  

Middle daughter's worked fine as well.

This is why I told our priest's wife I'd not volunteer to ever, ever iron the church's linens.  I'm like the ironing board widow.  

***

So later on we went out and bought more embroidery floss.  The least one had, pretty much, used up my collection with making bracelets (which we all wear).  Tomorrow, they'll sew on their pieces.  I'll begin making an apron...one of those that slips over your head.  Sort of excited about it.  Should be a no-brainer, which is a good thing.  Ironing the pieces as I sew?  Well, maybe at a very, very low setting.

Tuesday dinner-time

Light day, which, as I get older, is very healing. Am making more of a habit of pacing myself, not expecting so much out of a day.  It's hard to put into practice, though, as used to as I am of juggling lots of kids and all they get into.  Now, with only four at home, it's much, much easier.  Not so much food to buy either.  'Course the boys always bought their own treats, but dinners---still adjusting to less leftovers to put away.  Hard to make smaller meals and portions.

Everyone's quiet now.  Youngest son went with my husband to his shop today, and they got home early.  My husband has some sort of rough cough and congestion.  He sounds awful.  Very raw.  The kids have passed around a sniffle, but it's either morphed into something different, or he caught a new virus.  He's home early and in bed.  Light out, fan on, peaceful for him.  He just needs some rest.

The kids are in their rooms and the dogs are napping in the living room, though Daisy the Pug is at my feet waiting for me to pick her up.  

Restful, what can I say?  

Chicken simmering, vegetables ready, and about to put on a pot of water for Chicken Noodle Soup.  Figured it'd fit the bill for my main squeeze.  

Overall, thankful for a very full shop of work for my husband (partly, he's just exhausted, I'm thinking), oldest daughter's dry eye situation healing, and nothing pressing hitting at us this week.  Hard to get into a restful mode when you're used to jumping at everything.  

All is well.

Monday morning

Ordered by oldest daughter to take it easy today.  Nothing's wrong, but she reminded me last night that whenever I have contact with our boys, I need a day or so to recover.  I'm such an emotional mess.  Life was easier when they were all under my thumb, before the Internet became everyone's best friend.  Didn't realize at the time how the phrase, "Go to your room" was so problem-solve-worthy.

Nothing big on tap for the week.  With middle daughter's birthday coming up, on Halloween no less----we'll go a local Methodist church in a day or so which has a front area filled with pumpkins.  Except for last year, we always go there and buy several pumpkins to decorate with, especially for her birthday.  We don't do Halloween at our house, meaning we don't buy candy for the ones who come to the door, but focus on her.  We light candles, sort of huddle together and have a wonderful dinner.  It's very cozy.

And the big library book sale is this week.  All us addicts must at least go and see if we need to add to our already overabundance of books.  One of the men who runs the library bookstore took the youngest girls and me to their basement last week to see where their overstock is kept, including the room where some retired men repair the oldest books.  Middle daughter was obviously salivating at seeing all the movies and books.  And they already have boxed books set aside for the sale.  Hold me back. 

That's really all I have to do this week out of the ordinary.  We have our big Fish Fry at church this Sunday and we're down yearly to help with the Harvest Festival for the neighborhood afterward.  Two churches have stuff for the kids outside, including decorating cookies, a pet costume competition, a hay wagon and a fire truck to climb on.  After the Fish Fry, we'll high-tail it home (five minutes away) to rest for an hour or so before heading back there to set up for the kids.  

But that's way away on Sunday.  Maybe the Lord will come back before then and we won't have to help. I'm not keen on the Halloween stuff we do at church, not that I have issues with that holiday, but I've never been a fan of other folks' kids.  There.  I've said it.  Eye-roll.

Well, best go.  Chilly, sunny day.  Yummy soup for dinner (the one with Italian sausage, white kidney beans and kale) and youngest daughter is making bread to go with it.  All I have to do today is fetch Mom's prescriptions and take her some groceries that are in the freezer.  (my heart flies whenever even the thought of going over there comes up)  I'll wait and do that when a vehicle is here to drive.  Other than that, I'm able to chill.  And at my stage of life, that's the key to survival.  And while it sounds as if I'm ending this on a sour note, I'm really not.  Things are well indeed.

Note about template change here;  I've loaded a split screen, and it's supposed to work with text to the left and the sidebar to the right (with a photo to the right).  It lines up on my laptop, but would like to know or if it's wonky on yours.  It's all for naught, though, if it's strange-looking on other devices.  Let me know, will you?

Saturday night

I feel in the midst of God's favor just now. Things are lining up.  And it's not about what I want, but what the Lord wants for me.  I came back this afternoon after lunch with one son and could hear Him tell me that I'm right where He wants me to be.  I know.  I can feel it.

Our son and I were able to talk about everything.  Everything.  Our visit was full of love, which I needed to give him.  To let him know we're not rejecting him, but don't agree with his lifestyle, and he knows that.  That it's just plain hard.  And it's not about agreeing to disagree, but to be a mom.  Regardless.

And funny thing...to show how the Lord seemed to be smiling on me.  We went to the dollar store, and I found two products I usually pay full-price for elsewhere.  I got several.  Never have I seen them there...sort of upper class stuff, which was odd.  Plus, our neighbor brought me a new pair of purple patent leather Nine West flats (free) right after I got home.  Just because.

But. I. Am. Whupped.  Emotionally beat.

Here's the thing.  I don't believe the Lord wants us with our knickers all twisted up.  But when our kids live in a way contrary to their upbringing, it's devastatingly hard.  I envy moms whose kids are all believers and live in a traditional manner.  I really do.  Be thankful, and don't take it for granted.

But here's a quote that just fits:  "I don't think God puts us in situations we are not built for.  He puts us in places that are just right for us."~Lisa Bogart

Think on that.  Don't have to like where I am, but do have to relinquish my hold on what I think I deserve.  And when letting go happens, maybe the blessing part follows.  Seems sort of like it.  When my heels are dug in, ain't nothin' good gonna happen.

The clay in the Potter's Hands has to be wet, not hard.  Hard clay just breaks.  And softness of heart isn't achieved easily, least not in my case.

Take care.  Enjoy your Sunday.  :)

(listening to Ceasefire by For King & Country)

'Knit, Purl, Pray' by Lisa Bogart

Clearly Lisa Bogart is a very joyful person, and it shows in her delightful devotional.  In Knit, Purl, Pray she shares 52 written pieces using knitting analogies to bring her thoughts home.  Mistakes, dropped stitches, comfort, relaxation, and contentment stream through the pages of this sweet book.

It's a nice addition to a knitting bag or on a side table beside stitching supplies.  A light devotional, never taxing, but just simple stories from a knitter who has a passion about her art.

She talks about wanting so badly to produce a perfect bit of knitting, without flaws.

"All this struggling with perfection made me think of the verse about good works versus grace.  I still think I can work my way into heaven.  If I do all the right things, I will be guaranteed a spot.  Just like if I work hard enough my sweater will turn out perfect.  But there is no work that needs to be done to get into heaven.  Jesus has already done the heavy lifting.  There is not a thing we can do."

She's included a couple of patterns in the back of the book, an added treat.  And while I don't knit, I think many knitters would appreciate this as a gift book.

(i received this book free to review from worthy publishing)

Friday noon

~'a mother's joy' by g. zocchi

I can't remember the last time I actually became excited at a weekend staring me in the face.  I'm tired, didn't get enough sleep, but still----am sort of looking forward to it.  And the funny thing is, it's not that there's anything big going on, must be my mindset.  Not anxious about anything.  Am looking forward to lunch with one son, however.  Maybe that's affecting my mood.  Still, no worries plaguing me, and that's a switch for a change.  Life remains the same, but my heart is light.  Can't see any changes in my sons, but today I'm again okay with that.

One thing I've made a practice of since we began our new school year, and partly it's of a credit to my girls.  With youngest son graduated from high school, I only have the two youngest girls to teach.  They're so easy.  Not pressuring of me, pretty laid back all around in regards to school, and enjoyable company.  Can't beat that.  Anyway, the simple new practice is all about my attitude.  I'm not fretting or pushing any of their schoolwork.  Our pace is very slow and we're all enjoying it.  I've never found pleasure so much teaching my children as now.  Maybe they're reaping the benefits of all the drama lately.  No.  More.  Drama.

So, it's a chilly, sunny, breezy day.  Perfect for hanging out clothes and sheets.  Supposed to get a mild blast of colder temperatures this weekend.  Time to bring out Scully, my suede fringe jacket for church.  Layer blankets on the bed, crack the window just a bit at night, put sweaters on the Pugs, and make chili for dinner.  I think that about covers it.

You take care.  

'Hands Free Life' by Rachel Macy Stafford

Some books grip you, pull you in and force you to be honest about things that are happening.  And when an author is able to share without reserve, I'm totally smitten.  So it goes with Rachel Macy Stafford's Hands Free Life.

I was hesitant at first to offer to read this book to review since at her blog she shares such sweet stories of her children, and I was afraid it'd be one more book of a perfectionist mom showing us how it's done.  But she's nothing like that.  The thing is, she's realistic enough and willing to share the ugly places too.  Her struggles with being a mom, and both the victories and trials.  She's willing to be human.

Slow down, appreciate what's in front of you, don't beat yourself up for mistakes in the past---learn from them and move on.  I guess that sentence is at the heart of Rachel's message.  Mess up?  Try again with the Lord's help and have a do-over.

One more have-a-pencil-in-hand-while-you-read-this sort of book.  For new moms who are learning and us older mothers, this is a book to love.

(i received this book free to review from booklookbloggers)