My dear little chickens...

Sat out with chickens this evening.  Heard an owl across the street as Milk was the last one getting in the coop.  Stayed out as a reinforcement.  The reason....on Sunday morning (we stayed in from church) at about 8am or so, I could hear the Blue Jays going crazy in our oak tree in the backyard.  Got up, opened the back door  and a small hawk looked at me from the ground and flew off.  I let Romeo out, followed him, and stood out there watching the bird land in the oak out front.  The Blue Jays were all over it.  Went back inside for a minute, came back out and it was in the backyard again.  Turns out it had swooped down on something in our yard (not a chicken) and had left it behind.  Came back for its dinner, I guess.  I buried it. Not the hawk, but what it killed. End of story.

But now we have to stay on our toes in the morning.  The hawks know the chickens are there, but thankfully this was a small one.  Sparrow hawk, kestral, falcon...who knows.  About 12" in length, which is small for a hawk, and much smaller than our birds, who are built like little football players.

Interesting how having chickens has brought me out of the house more.  Sitting with them in the evenings, or sitting with them in the cool of the mornings.  The quiet therapy of cleaning out the coop and putting in more wood chips, which I really enjoy.  Puttering.  Easy tidying and happily seeing them go inside the coop right by my side as I tidy up.  Looking at what I do, approving of the clean place to roost.  Making sweet little chickeny sounds.  

Waiting for Milk to get on the roost last.  Bird sounds in the neighborhood slowly ending and the crickets, tree frogs and grasshoppers beginning to sing.  Day turns to night and all is well.

'Q&A a Day' by Potter Style

What a delightful book.  Q & A a Day is wonderful.  As the sub-title says:  365 Questions-4 Years-1,460 Sketches.  A 4-year journal.

Limp cover with sturdy binding, beautiful paper, just begging for someone to draw in it.  Each page is divided into four parts, with a prompt along the dated side of the page.  Examples are:  What's your favorite condiment?  Show it in action.  Or this one:  What is your ultimate mode of transportation?  And this one:  What is one thing you'd like to always remember about today?

Such inspiring ideas, and food for thought.  Perfect for markers, pencils and maybe even light watercolor.  I believe the more beat up and wrinkled the book gets over the four years you'd use it, the better.

Score to Autumn Kindelspire for the creative and inspirational text and to Danielle Deschenes for the cover design.  This is a book to love.

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

Monday of wedding week

I've been looking for a phrase or sentence that sums up what life has been like for me, especially the past few months.  Read a few words this morning in an online article and "shocks the conscience" jumped out at me.  Exactly.  Information coming at me that my wee brain couldn't handle, shocking my sensibilities and sending me spinning.

But I think I'm stronger for it.  Not happier, but yes, stronger.  More empathetic with folks, those who are caught dealing with the fall-out.  Maybe even more hard-hitting at sinful behavior.  Not more tolerant, being that I don't believe tolerance is helpful when evil behavior is so blatant.  The world would have Christians turn the other cheek to the point of actually leaving the room.  I believe we're to be present in this world, just not a part of it.  Harder than first imagined.  The dark side would wish us to embrace their influences.  Not interested.

And have noticed when I strike out at evil, they strike back.  It's not funny, and oh so necessary to stay built up in the Lord.  To put on His armor, to pray a hedge around my family and home.  I'm not kidding.  Seeking whom they may devour.....nope, not my house.

"As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord."~Joshua 24:15

Praying His will be done, as Father Tim prays in Mitford.  The prayer that never fails.

A blessing on my husband's shop, that He will show favor.  On this week that there's peace in the midst of the busyness.  For fair weather.  Safe travels for all involved in this wedding.  Tender mercies as the Prayer Book says.  And moments of clarity of purpose, and rest.  Much rest.  Everything is easier to manage with that.

Sunday night

Had some errands to run Friday morning, and stopped at the library to pick up a book on hold.  Passed over the shelves of fiction and found a book by Anne-Marie Casey (unknown to me until now) called No One Could Have Guessed the Weather, and read it within 24 hours.  There's swearing and other stuff in it, yes, but some truths directed at women of my age---things I needed to hear.  Elizabeth Berg is a good one for that.  Worldly, but so empowering at the same time.

And while Casey's book isn't aimed at Christian women, hey, the Lord can use anyone to drive a point home.  After I finished the book, feeling a bit more myself afterward, I took a dose of William Faulkner's short stories to steady myself.  It all balances out.

Moving on.

In the nonsense I've lived through these past three years especially, I've lost myself.  Hobbies, favorite things to do, joy---it's been swept under the rug.  Have spent so much time just trying to maintain my sanity, which my sweet chickens in the backyard have helped with, but still, hard to keep ahold of.

Morning tea and quiet time first thing every day have kept me from totally losing my mind.  Just sort of kidding.  And these past six months I've watched the health of my oldest daughter and my husband (and myself) suffer.  Whatever our Achilles' heel is---it's been attacked.  And I think our whole household is a bit delirious, in a good way, at the idea of this wedding being over this week.  It's a reminder of so much that's passed in its wake.  We're all happy at the thought of turning a much-dogeared page.

* * *

One thing that'll really help in the running of things this week is our three girls skipping the rehearsal and heading straight to the rehearsal dinner venue.  They'll take the food, set it up and make sure everything's Jake for when the rest of us leave the rehearsal.  Brilliant plan concocted by oldest daughter.  My girls aren't part of the wedding, even the cutting of the cake (yeah, sort of miffed, but as my dear friend, Tina, said---we're spared the expense of bridesmaids' dresses) so are free to do whatever.  Sure helps me.

* * *

Might be cliché, but the phrase One Day at at Time really is priceless.  Tomorrow we shop for Mom.  Period.  One day.  I can do that.

Pre-wedding jitters

Tired.  Realizing how much we'll be doing next week, so will take this weekend off from stuff. Thinking my main squeeze and I will cut some grasses/branches to put in altar vases, and take them to the church tonight.  Nothing for us to be involved in at Sunday's services, so may take a pass, do the vases ahead of time.  This weekend, cheap arrangements are necessary.  Sometimes I don't have extra cash to buy flowers, even though I get reimbursed on Sunday.

Monday, do Mom's shopping.  Tuesday is free.  Yessssssss. 

Next Wednesday will be full with Mom's needs, cooking, and the menfolk taking chairs/tables to rehearsal dinner venue, plus picking up youngest son's tux.  Will try to interest another tux-wearing son into taking him to pick it up.  The rest of us have our clothes selected, so nothing pressing there.  Wednesday morning will go to Mom's with girls, do her nails, cut/set her hair, scream, clean her house, do our cooking when we get home.  Dinner made from scraps---you get the idea.  If I liked alcohol, which I don't, might be a good time to start drinking. Collapse in bed.  Adrenal fatigue a definite reality just now.

I think Wednesday will be a true test of my coping capabilities.

Thursday morning take food to rehearsal dinner house.

Make nice with all I come in contact with.  Should be fine.

Thursday, meet bride's dad and family (except for her mom) for the first time.  Minor stress.  Will not allow for major stress.  Hear me?  Rehearsal at 4:30pm.

Friday wedding at 6:30pm.  Not sure what's up on that day, before then.  Naps, perhaps?  Picking up Mom way ahead of time, allowing time for her to get in van/get out of van, and don't forget her wheelchair.

Saturday---return tables and chairs and other things to church in preparation for Bishop's yearly visit on Sunday. Take decorations from rehearsal tables to share for church luncheon. Consider taking a dish to the potluck, but just might not.  Usually, there's plenty.

* * *

Actually, I was fine with all of this, until I wrote it down.  Gosh.  It's the not having any hands-on help from friends (still so thankful for the money from Tina), since nobody at church is involved with the wedding part that's hard for us.  Son sort of abdicated his role in being part of the decision-making with the bride's family, so the rest of us are a bit overwhelmed.  But to her credit, our priest's wife offered to make something for the rehearsal dinner, though I turned her down.  Still, awfully sweet.  She understands.

Or maybe the Lord will return (I believe in the Rapture) before next week.  I'm ready.

Going grey

So, I've stopped using hair color, allowing the grey to show through.  This isn't very evident unless you look at the bits in front of my ears--coming in all silvery and shiny, for which I'm grateful.  Actually, almost white.  Not surprising considering...and keep in mind, this is all new to me.  The change isn't very impressive, yet.

Seems my husband with his love of Emmilou Harris' hair, and his dislike of hair color and its chemicals is in favor of me going natural.  But with hair that now reaches below my waist when it's brushed out, this might take awhile.

I can't believe I'm even considering this.

One woman at church who's sixty, sat in front of us on Sunday and her hair is to the middle of her back.  She must've been a blonde when she was younger, and has grey mixed in with it now.  He commented on how beautiful her hair was, trying to encourage me to do likewise.  He knows if he praises other women, I'll follow through.  An easy study.  Okay, I get it.

My only hold back is the part of my hair on top.  Not keen on the stripe that'll result.  Thinking the contrast with my dark hair, it'll be hard to gently move into the grey.  Skunk stripe indeed.  So he says, "Go ahead and color all of it grey."  I tell him it'll have to be stripped of color beforehand.  And consider how truly shocking it'd be for me to suddenly be grey/white-headed.  

He laughs.

That won't happen.  

Today I won't mess with it.  And honestly, before the wedding, I might weaken and just color a dab of dark brown on the part, so in photos you won't see a minor skunk stripe, but only there.  That I can do.

'Sight in the Sandstorm' by Ann J. Temkin

Ann J. Temkin is a very fine storyteller, weaving her autobiography into pieces gleaned from the New Testament.  She puts flesh and bones on the Disciples and the Lord.  Rarely is it possible to find books that allow for their humanness, but she does so beautifully in Sight in the Sandstorm. 

Half Jewish/half Gentile, Temkin shares the story of her growing up, pressures her parents endured during the years during and following WWII, and the ways their family dealt with their differences.  I acknowledge it wasn't easy and this reflects on how Temkin managed conflicts later in life.

One situation she writes about stood out to me.  Her focus on social justice is strong when she writes about events that happened in a Catholic church she and her friends were allowed to use for an Evening Liturgy.  Keep in mind she says the following: "Father Robert, the parish priest who allowed us to use the church, was never there.  He was very progressive but had no intention of leaving the priesthood.  Perhaps he thought it was better not to know to specifically what we were doing..."

So, Temkin and her group of friends, those who weren't involved in the traditional church, met in Father Robert's Catholic church in the evenings and held their own worship service---sometimes singing current ('70s) music, quoting Buddhist teachings or whatever was socially an important issue.  They bonded, and they deeply loved their group.  Understood.  But, eventually, another priest was called to this particular parish, and he wasn't in favor of having strangers conduct lay-led services, especially offering Communion without a priest.  So he shut them down, told them under no uncertain terms that they couldn't conduct their own liturgy anymore.

The first service the priests led after this announcement was attended by Temkin and her friends.  Bulletins telling of what would be covered in the service---prayers, announcements, etc. were placed inside the church, but she and her attendees looked with suspicion at them, not picking them up.  The three priests stood in front of the church, quoted a Scripture that was hard-hitting at what had been going on, and one person at the back of the church Booo-ed him.  And the parishioners all walked out, en masse.  Went to a local home, swore at the events which had occurred and lamented at what they would do.

I was offended at their response.  While I'm not hard-line about priests/pastors having to be the official ones to conduct Communion, I do take issue at the response of Temkin and her friends.  They were at odds with the Church, forgetting that rules and decorum have allowed the Church to exist for over 2,000 years.  And considering her quote about Father Robert being better off not knowing what they were doing, is a clear indication that they realized when they were conducting their lay-led services, that they were going against what the Church would allow.  

That's deceptive and wrong.  Use the facilities, attack the leaders when you're clearly doing things you don't want to be found about, and whine afterward.

Social justice oftentimes seems to be about wanting to do whatever you want, and not willing to accept the consequences.

While I enjoyed Temkin's stories, I take issue with her liberal mindset.

(i received this book free to review from SpeakEasy)

Wednesday again...

Just the girls with me at home today.  Youngest son left with the groom earlier to fetch a new beret to go with his Dress Blues for the wedding next week.  He said his original one is too tight.  Huh.  His head's gotten larger?  They're on the way to Ft. Campbell, which is a generous day trip, but one they'll likely enjoy.  Lovely weather this week, in the low eighties, and we have all the windows up.  Perfect.

And I have all my details for my part of the wedding in hand.  Borrowing a decorating tip from Dotsie---one where she filled vases with dried beans and added a light.  She's so clever that way.  I got vases at the dollar store, bought mixed beans and added ones I already had, and also got battery-operated votives.  Will make little wreaths to go around the bottoms and tie on some raffia as a trim.  Inexpensive, and we can use them the following Sunday when our Bishop comes for a special service and luncheon at church.  

And the food is falling into place.  Made a sample cake last night, using Pioneer Woman's Texas Sheet Cake, realizing afterward that it's identical to a Picnic Cake I made years ago.  With Lemon Squares, that might be the two desserts we provide for the rehearsal dinner.  Easy and sounds good with BBQ.

Simple is my mantra these days.  Folks usually enjoy plain fare, as long as there's plenty.  Comfort food, and no pretension.  I'm thinking there might be some discomfort with some of the wedding crowd, being a mix-race union.  Not sure, but it's possible, so making everything cozy-like is a good thing.  The groom has been uncomfortable with some of the bride's relatives, and I admit to having a struggle with acceptance myself.  If I said it's been a breeze, that'd be a lie.

So.

Today, cooking last pork roast.  Tidying up a bit.  Reading and rest.  Might be my last chance as the days pass swiftly.  Thinking the bride might have last-minute things for us to help her with, not knowing how much her bridesmaids will be available.  Our involvement has been minimal, which is nice for us, but being this much on the sidelines, while typical for the groom's family, to me is still odd.  

Enjoy the day. :)

About Sunday's service

Every so often at church, maybe about every other month, our priest offers the sacrament of Holy Unction, the anointing of the sick.

Oldest daughter has been plagued by an eye ailment off and on for about six months.  She's been to four doctors, the final one an expensive ophthalmologist.  Nothing.  Just a diagnosis of dry eye.  Anyway, she's been upping her vitamins and keeping a patch on it during the day, an eye mask at night.  She has pain that flares at night, but thankfully is better.  It's just such a lengthy process.

I say all that to say this.  Never have I walked to the communion rail for this, but with her often in tears at the length of time the healing has taken, I mentioned that I'd go down with her, if she wanted to.  And we did, along with about 15-20 other folks.  The communion rail was full.

Our priest uses a delicious-smelling holy oil to anoint, makes the sign of the cross on each person's forehead, and palms of the hands, then places his hand on your head.  He speaks these words, depending on the request:

O Lord, look down from heaven,  behold, visit, and relieve this thy servant.  Look upon him with the eyes of thy mercy, give him comfort and sure confidence in thee, defend him in all danger, and keep him in perpetual peace and safety; through Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.

or more like here.

Isn't that beautiful?

Anyway, our priest walked before each person, taking such a time with everyone.  No rushing.  Each one spoke their request, which wasn't always about sickness, but sometimes an interceding or prayer for the salvation of a loved one.  As he prayed over each person, I could feel such a Presence.  It was amazing.  I began to cry, which is the norm for me at church, and as I told him I was there for our daughter---he marked my forehead and hands, laid his hand on my head and never have I felt the Lord in that church as I did yesterday morning.  It was as if a cloud hovered over that communion rail.  Amazement was the emotion.  Startling.

And the scent of the oil in my hair lasted all day.  An incense lifted up to Heaven.

And do you know, it's because of sickness I was able to feel that.  Not health, but need.  Think on that.

Saturday evening

Sometimes I feel a glimmer of Heaven.  A whoosh passes through my spirit and it happened today.  Had the radio on, after leaving the Mediterranean store (and the young Middle Eastern woman who waited on me wore a cross around her neck, which was awesome with all the Muslim paraphernalia in there) with my box of tea, and was just sitting in the van listening to Casting Crown's Just Be Held (excellent lyrics).  Everything for a brief moment made sense.  The pain and tears all fell into place.  Just for a moment.

With our sons defection from the Lord, rather than driving me away from Him, it's pushed me even closer.  Odd to say that their sin has worked as a blessing in my own life.  I can really say that.

Maybe this is one of those 'count it all joy' situations?

Okay, I get it.  Not all the time, but today, I get it.

And this has been a week full of Grace anyway.  My friend Tina's generous gift enabling us to pay for our part in the wedding.  Gary's had work all week, and plans are falling into place. 

* * *

Had a good time at Michael's with the kids this afternoon as well.  Bought Autumn-ish decorations for the rehearsal dinner tables.  Sort of excited to set it all up, even with my grumbling yesterday.  Don't have everything nailed down, but went to the dollar store and found vases, raffia and plastic ware I'll get on Monday.  Just need firm numbers of what to buy.

Thankfully God is patient with my/our fussing.  He allows the human element to have its way, but is always there to fall against.  Love that.  A firm foundation indeed.

Saturday morning

Tea in bed.  Window up.  Children sleeping in.  Dark skies.  Gentle rain.  Deep breaths.  No stress today.  At least, that's my plan.

Just had a sweet conversation with my mom just now regarding the wedding.  Threw some thoughts her way, drinking in her wisdom.  I realize it's tough for her, with the stroke, being on the outskirts of whatever's going on.  She used to be a doer, now has to be a watcher.  Not easy.  So, we talked about the rehearsal dinner and such, which was good for both of us.

But overall, I'm taking today off from planning anything.  Nothing more I can do or buy until I talk to the rehearsal dinner hostess tomorrow night.  Spoke to our groom about hauling tables from our church to the hostess' house.  He says he's probably got some guy friends who can help.  That would be huge.  We'll see.

Anyway, will buy altar flowers later on, and maybe stop in the Mediterranean shop for some loose tea.  A treat, since we've been using plain old Lipton teabags, which are fine, but I'm spoiled---so enjoy the making of tea when it's from a tin of loose tea.  An event.  A ritual.

Simple pleasures, which have been too few and far between for me.

Reading Like Water for Chocolate, which is perfect for today.  Had snapped it up at the library used bookstore for a buck awhile back and hadn't begun reading it until this morning.  Very restful, so far.

I need to take care of myself for today.  This-coming week is the last full week before wedding week.  Pace myself.  Do only what's necessary.  Don't take on any pressure that's not mine.  You know, stress seems to be like a sickness.  Stay around a person who's running their self ragged (thinking of the bride) and you follow suit.  I can't and won't.  Adrenal fatigue.  My body keeps reminding me of my limitations, which can be a blessing.  Otherwise I'd be over-busy.  Not necessary.  Will have a healing weekend, then let the nonsense commence.

This is the day the Lord hath made.  Let us rejoice and be glad in it.  

'Freehand Figure Drawing for Illustrators' by David H. Ross

Our youngest son is a budding artist, still finding his wings, and this book is perfect for what he's trying to achieve.  Figure drawing, perspective, muscles, bone structure---all of it is covered in David H. Ross' newest book called Freehand Figure Drawing for Illustrators.  An amazing publication.

The high quality paper used in printing it first impressed me.  It's amazing.  I can't praise it enough.  No matter what sort of drawing that came to mind, I was able to find it.  And as a popular illustrator specializing in comic-style art, Ross is an expert.  He's gifted in the way our son admires.  Some books just cover the outside of the human figure, but Ross gets below the surface demonstrating why bodies move as they do.  And he presses the importance of knowing this so the artist can draw freehand (as the title says) and not have to rely on props.

Our son has an impressive collection of art/drawing books and for animation types of drawing, this one is the best.

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

Warning: rant ahead...

So, I was able to speak on the phone to the hostess (brides' family friend) who's allowing us to have the Rehearsal Dinner in her home.  Bride's idea.  Outside by the pool.  I'm thinking flies and heat.  We'll need to haul six tables and 40 chairs from the church to her house across town.  Do I sound a tad disgruntled?  Just a tad.  Need to dump this angst.

I was fine yesterday, feeling a little empowered by my ideas about the food, handling the pre-cooking and freezing of the BBQ, and buying little-by-little the odds and ends.

Then I spoke to her.  Was in my heart hoping she had some seating already.  Uh, no.  I will say, though, that she was awfully sweet on the phone.  Very Southern.

I think it's the actually getting of the tables/chairs that's rankling me.  Getting six heavy tables up from the church basement, not having a pick up truck anymore and having to depend on someone else to help us move them from one site to another.  The bride's mother has a new truck and offered, but I'm thinking, "Your daughter is getting married that week....do you really want to do this for us?"  So you say to me, "Well, she brought it up."

My life.  I'm just so darned irritable.

And with the hoopla regarding all the expense, I'm thinking I feel a bit like a redneck.  Okay, maybe I am sometimes a redneck, but I just want to get this right.  Feel in control and not manipulated by strong-minded women.  

I should take a lesson from my husband.  He's just doing his thing at work, not focusing on the wedding except to say, "Man, I'll be glad when this is over.  Do we have to be in any of the pictures?"

Yeah, so much enthusiasm.

Do you understand?  Marriage to an unbeliever is unfortunate.  I believe our son has a working knowledge of the Lord, but hasn't made a firm commitment, and his bride has no interest whatsoever.  Focus on buying so many things (bride and parents) and the Lord isn't any part of it.  Rent-a-preacher to perform the ceremony.  I'm sorry, but this doesn't make me happy.  I try for everyone to appear glad, but in private (and here on this blog), it's not that way.

Okay.  Today and tomorrow I'll walk away.  Give it some air.  We meet the hostess and see her house Sunday night.  That'll be good.  One step at a time.  

Time to think on something else.  Ready, set, go.

'The Printer and the Preacher' by Randy Petersen

Overwhelmed.  That's the chief emotion from reading Randy Petersen's book The Printer and the Preacher, a detailed double biography about Benjamin Franklin and George Whitefield.  The research is astounding and the Notes, Appendix, and Bibliography indicate the in-depth quality of Petersen's writing.  

For anyone who's a fan of American history, this is the book for you, especially books with a Christian slant.  Personally, though, I suffered from an information overload.  I'd have preferred the book to focus on certain aspects of Franklin's and Whitefield's lives rather than tell me everything.  As I said, overwhelmed.

I give a hat-tip to Petersen's enthusiasm and skill in writing.  He's done his homework, but at times it

 reads more like an encyclopedia.  And one editorial mistake is evident with an inaccurate date about the Salem witch trials, but an obvious one, which can be overlooked. 

Overall, an impressive read, but for me a bit over the top.

(i received this book free to review from booklookbloggers)

Sovereignty

There's a theme running through certain Christian publishers and it's a bit like a Cause and Effect mentality.  Do this, your end result will be that.  Not guaranteed, but almost a sure thing.  Treat your man like this and he'll react in such-a-way.  Pray this Scripture and you'll see that happen.  Raise up your children in a proper, Christian home and they'll soar.  Tithe and you'll have more than enough to pay your bills.  You get the idea.

I just don't buy into it.

I think it's always been this way.  My dad was a great believer in Oral Roberts and the returns in planting a seed.  And they called it Seed Faith.  Mostly related to tithing, but referring to other things as well.  We like to get involved and I believe God knows that.  Be part of the answer.  

Had a wild thought yesterday.  At least to me.  (John MacArthur wonders where I've been all this time.) What if God's will, without our involvement, always comes to pass.  Do people actually believe that?  If really, prayer is unnecessary and what He wants will occur no matter?  If our prayers are important only as giving us a belief that we are indeed part of the process, and as fellowship.  Linking us to the Father.  Touching base.  Feeling Heaven pass through our spirits.  

What if those situations that happen, when we hardly pray at all and things come about, are a result of being so tuned into God's will that we pray His desires for us, and there they are, because we're paying attention.

Those pleading prayers.  I always wonder.  So much energy and tears for the seemingly unattainable.  Then while we might not see answers, we do get downright chummy with our Heavenly Father.  Maybe He allows the real painful bits of life to draw us near, knowing comfort often puts a barrier between us and Him.  Then throws in what, to us, seems miraculous, but maybe only as knowledge that He's paying attention to the small things while we wrestle with what causes such misery.  

I was praying for favor in my husband's work last night, rebuking the evil one in order that His will would be sure.  Got to thinking about it afterwards, and it seems almost ridiculous to pray this way.  Like the devil is so powerful as to thwart His wishes.  That's where the idea came of God being over all, the sovereign thing, you know.  Maybe I'm a bit slow, and all of you already know this.

Life is hard.  It just is.  And the Book of James does make me squirm since I do not count it all joy.  I don't want to suffer for Christ.  I just don't.  But find it such a huge blessing, even when my life smacks me upside the head, that He will give me small gifts to remind me that He's still here---in the midst.  I think He's okay with me not counting it all joy, knows I'm all gnarly inside, because He made me.  He made me THIS way.  I take great comfort in that.  Ignorant, stubborn, a wrestler with truth sometimes....not all God-given traits perhaps, yet God-allowed ones, maybe just an example of sin stretching its reach, yet something to work with.  Yes, He is Sovereign.

'For the Love' by Jen Hatmaker

Sometimes a book review is very difficult to write, and most times this applies when the reviews (when I read them beforehand) are so winning and I don't feel the same enthusiasm.  I end up wondering what's wrong with me, when actually, it's just personalities.

Jen Hatmaker is a very gifted writer, funny, sarcastic, sincere---all good things.  I laughed while reading For the Love and underlined several bits here and there.  But afterwards, I felt flat.  It didn't deliver for me, but it has for many, many women.  

The book is about not allowing the world to define who you are, with the excessive perfection we're surrounded with, especially if we live significant parts of our days online.  But it's also about things that work for Jen, her interests---supper clubs, attention to international poverty, women friends, managing church issues as one who works within those confines and also adoption.  In all honesty, those topics don't resonate with me.   

But for the up and comings, this is the book for you.  For those who are still idealistic enough to trust in how you've raised your kids, and haven't experienced disappointment, Jen will bless you.  Her humor in the face of frustration will build you up.  And she can laugh at herself, a sure plus.  I'd target the young marrieds with small children.  Christian women who enjoy group activities and lots of leaning.  This is the book for you.

(i received this book free to review from booklookbloggers)

Wedding things and chickens

Cool story.  First of all, my dear friend Tina gave us money when she was in town, and she was glad we'd be able to use it for the wedding.  I don't know what we would've done otherwise.  Seriously.  So, with the blessing of provisions at hand, Gary and I went through what needed to be bought, making a list for groceries/supplies for the BBQ rehearsal dinner, keeping in mind the girls' clothes and our youngest son's tux, and also a jacket (he's found a Ralph Lauren one at thrift store near his shop) and tie for Gary (who owned no neckties until he got a bow-tie the other day), shoes for him (he got some wicked wingtips at the thrift store), and some things for me.  I prayed specifically for what I wanted this morning, even visualizing the short black leather ankle boots I really wanted.  Had found some online at a local shoe store, and knew what would look good with the dress I already had (one Gary bought for me last year) for the wedding.  And a white blouse to go with it.  That's all.

Walked into the big Goodwill across town, headed for the shoes, and there were the boots, and in the right size. Went to the blouses, tried on two and one was perfect.  Beading on the collar making it very wedding-worthy.

And, and, and....the least one got a party dress, said it made her feel like a fairy, and some black patent leather flats.  All the girls got something, and we're, pretty much, set for clothes for the wedding.

Answered prayer like this is awesome.  Plain awesome.

***

In more serious news, there were ten, count 'em, ten hawks circling over our backyard this afternoon. The chickens huddled under their coop, Milk peeking out and looking up at the sky through the oak tree.  Kept making a worried little sound.  Since it's illegal to kill the hawks, we used an air pistol and just made noise, startling them.  Eventually, they flew away.  Parents teaching the babies to fly and hunt, no doubt.  I ended up draping sheets across the fences around the chicken yard. Oldest daughter and I sat out with them until the danger passed, Milk getting in my lap.  So sweet, but not funny.

Tomorrow is a home day.  Dinner bought, straightening a badly messed up house.  Rest.

Sunday night

Met the mother-of-the-bride yesterday and I like her very much.  Truly believe we could go out for a meal alone, and be perfectly comfortable together.  And she appears to love our son.  A win.  The girls said she has him call her Mama.  Okay, I can deal with that.  A good thing.  She got to our meeting with dried mud on her pants' hem.  Had been out riding her horse.  Yeah, I like her.  I'd share a grandbaby with her, when/if the time comes.

This is grace.

And saw the wedding site, reception rooms---all of it beautiful.  

The only odd part, and our girls said the same---with the bride's family paying for everything with abandon, it causes us to be sitting on the outskirts of all the plans.  Photographer, a DJ, caterers, etc.  Folks spend lots of money.  My goodness.  And really, with the bride not having a church, or her parents either, it forces them to use public facilities that otherwise would be at their disposal with a home congregation.  That is unfortunate.  A group of women to watch your back is always welcome, but they don't have that.  

We'll just flow with it.  

And none of our sons will bring dates, turns out, to either the rehearsal or wedding.  Their decisions, or work schedules not coinciding.  Interesting.

God is moving, and I just need to continue to stand back and let Him.

(listening to Joni Mitchell's Amelia and The Circle Game)

Friday mid-afternoon

Beautiful weather.  Oddly enough, when you live in the South, as the temperatures go below 100F. or so, it almost feels fall-ish.  Right now supposedly it's 87F. and I'm in the bedroom with the fan on low and the window up.  Feels wonderful.  But add about ten degrees to that number, the fan is turned up and the window closes.  Guess it's what you're used to.  I have friends who live further north and they have a hard time with upper eighties.  You have my sympathies, but send it on.

* * *

A bit anxious about meeting the mother-of-the-bride tomorrow.  Was wondering what was making me jittery this morning, and that's it.  At the store, though, was able to price things for the rehearsal dinner.  Picnic sorts of supplies.  Keeping a tally. Want to make a good impression even though it's supposed to be low-key.  And in talking to son in California, who's done lots of catering with his jobs, he was able to give me some pointers on the food---what can be made ahead and frozen, etc.  Help is good.

But it's not tomorrow yet.  The house is reasonably clean, about to hang out clothes, the day is breezy which is so nice, chickens need hugs and I have a lap, I'm making vegetable soup and cornbread for dinner, nothing pressing, and have enough food in the house for the weekend.  What more could I possibly want?

Monday night

Bride-to-be came over on Saturday and we finalized plans for the rehearsal dinner.  All went well.  She stayed almost two hours, which was a good omen.  And she bent down and hugged me before she left, so I'd say we've made progress (I was holding Daisy the pug in my lap who was feeling poorly.).  This-coming Saturday the girls and I will meet her and her mom (who we've never met) at the chapel where the wedding will take place.  Get a feel for it.  Guess it's really happening---full speed ahead.  In my heart, I'm glad.  Really.

* * *

And let me say this, not directed at the wedding, but at life in general.  Here's the thing.  My faith walk has never been as strong as it is now, and also, I've never been hit by as much opposition from the dark side as now either.  We really are at war.  I'm tired, and my physical appearance seems to me to be worn.  But my spirit is so alive.  The package is ragged, but the Lord is so present to me.

I'd say that it must be worth it.  Count it all joy, yes?  Not easy to consider a sacrifice of your children's present lives as being of benefit to your own walk with the Lord.  Hard to put it that way.

Months and months ago I prayed that my eyes would show a look (I've mentioned this), one that made it apparent that I'd experienced life.  What I'd overlooked was that actual experience was what was necessary. I wasn't looking for trials, but wanted to be sensitive, approachable.  I meet folks with flashing eyes, and a darting look.  Not focusing on the one they're with and unable to land.  Not what I want.  Folks are hurting and are seeking those who've been there.  I know I am.  To see evidence that if you can survive your hardships, then I can as well.  On a funny note, the least one was looking at a photo of my maternal great grandmother the other day and I asked her if she saw a resemblance.  She said no, my eyes are sad.  My great grandmother's aren't.  Oh well.

(listening to Let Them See You by J J Weeks band...instrumental part at 3:35)

Sabbath rest

Enjoying so much having my out-of-town sister-not-by-blood here.  Encouragement.  Much laughter and such joy.  I told her the first night after she got here I felt so relaxed.  I was able to lean on her, telling her in person things I've only written down.  She's such a gift, to me and also my family.  I've not told her this, but someone at church today asked if she was a relative, thinking we all favored.  She'll like that.

* * *

Rested for a bit after services, then went by myself to the library used bookstore.  Saw a woman from church there in the lobby, who I've never really talked to before, and she told me she was there for a quilting get-together.  Loved the spontaneity of that.  Then as we separated after chatting for a minute, she told me how beautiful my girls are and the sweet man who is so nice to us at the bookstore walked by and said he agreed very much.  We're there a lot.

I'm having more of these sorts of situations lately.  Just padding for my spirit.  Gentleness and kind words in midst of the sometimes nightmare of my life.

So, as I was browsing, the same man talked to me from time time and we chatted about the music they play in there.  He has his own playlist---lots of old tunes and very easy to listen to music from my/our generation.  I mentioned his Joni Mitchell being on the other day, when he wasn't there.  He walked off and visited with some other customers and after a few minutes the Joni Mitchell began to play.  He'd put it on for me.  Then he came over again and said he'd mix me a disk of her music.  Amazing.  I asked what I could bring (like a package of disks), and he said just myself to pick it up, at my convenience.  And as I was checking out, another song came on.  I asked him what it was and he said Answers by Sarah McLaughlin, and he'd put her on the disk as well.

Yesterday, oldest daughter was in there, and he gave her a beautiful copy of an Elizabeth Barrett Browning.  She met his wife, and he talked of his daughter. 

Some folks have the gift and the time to share a generous spirit as they come alongside of you.  I want to be one of those who can stop everything and really listen.  Sometimes it's an effort, mostly because I'm not much of a people person.  It's more common of people to listen to you all the the while they're moving onto the next thing.  It's that mindfulness thing again.

'It's Good to Be Queen' by Liz Curtis Higgs

Years ago I read a couple of Liz Curtis Higgs' works of fiction called Bookends and Mixed Signals and loved them.  Since then our daughter has read some of her historical fiction, but I was partial to the funny love stories.

Around the time I read her fiction, I signed up for her snail-mail list.  Such a sweet and comfortable woman to have contact with, even as a fan and not a friend.  Very approachable.

I say all that to say she's still 'got it.'  A woman who knows how to reach out to other women and she's still able to laugh at herself, making her more appealing that ever.  This newest book It's Good to Be Queen is about the Queen of Sheba, and while initially I believed it to be a novel, I was mistaken, but am very pleased with the Bible study aspects of it, even though I'm not partial to studies.  The overruling impression I was left with was the intelligence of Sheba.  A woman who knew how to use the traits the Lord gifted her with, not inappropriately, but as God intended (even though she wasn't serving the One Living God at that time).  Not what we're used to seeing.  In the modern day women use their femininity to trick and trap.  Not so with Sheba.

The book has a Study Guide in the back as well, loaded with discussion questions, asking the unexpected.  Researched extensively and full of things to think about.  

(i received this book free to review from waterbrook press)

Sunday night

A sweet day at church.  Quiet and filling.  The Gospel reading today was about the Prodigal Son, and whenever I hear that story my eyes prick.  Someday.  Lord willing.

Looking forward to Tuesday when my favorite person on the planet, save for the humans I live with, comes in town.  Remember my neighbor who passed away from ALS so many years back?  Some of you will.  This is her sister who moved here temporarily from California to care for her.  That.  Is.  Love.  She became so dear to me through all of that experience.  Wouldn't trade it for anything.  (By the way, Tina, the girls are making chocolate chip cookies!)

* * *

Focus.

Wedding of son is coming up swiftly before our eyes.  September fourth.  He was over the other afternoon, telling youngest son about the tuxes they'll be fitted for this Saturday.  Vera Wang.  Gulp.  That's all I'll say.  Sparing no expense.  Being that we live very modestly, this ought to be interesting.  Our groom son said he wanted to buy me a dress, and had one picked to show me from Macy's on his phone.   I appreciated the effort, but told him no.  Said his dad had just taken me shopping, which was true, and I couldn't have him spending money on me, especially knowing he'd charge it.  No.  He was sweet about it, and honestly, I think he was relieved when it sank in.  He said he just wanted to make sure I was taking care of.  And considering the last year with him, how he and I butted heads, this was so sweet of him to offer.  I texted him later on, making sure he was okay about my refusal.  He was.  Impulsive is his middle name, and always very generous.  Takes after his dad that way.  Like his dad in lots of ways.

* * *

Am back to my night-time reading of Faulkner.  I'd read one of his books of short stories awhile back, and found a thicker one at the library.  This one is Collected Stories of William Faulkner.  Barn Burning (the first one in the book is what got me hooked on him) is amazing.  Shocking.  And The Tall Men is maybe a new favorite short story.  Had to put away Absalom, Absalom! because the evil of some of his men is so....heartless.  Sometimes I can't bear it.  Glad he wrote enough I can sift through some and not read all, then not feel cheated.  And, while Mary Kathryn laughed about my book review regarding Billy Coffey's book the other day and the creepy parts bothering me, it is odd I can read Faulkner, who does have his moments.  The difference is Coffey did have a demon in his book while Faulkner's men aren't demonic, just downright rotten.  There is a difference, least to me.

Now, best go.  Time to call it a day.  The girls and I are going to a new (for us) thrift store tomorrow.  Looking to find odds and ends for the girls to pull together for their wedding clothes.  They're not in the wedding, but are thinking about what will make them feel pretty.  The least one is beside herself at the promise of something new to wear.  Brings me joy to see her happy.

(listening on Spotify to Shawn McDonald's Through It All)