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)

'The Homemade Kitchen' by Alana Chernila

Back when I got married, thirty-two years ago, there were standard books given as wedding presents.  I'm remembering Joy of Cooking and Betty Crocker, both of which I still use even though they look pitiful with age.  Alana Chernila has written such a gorgeous and full-of-information cookbook with The Homemade Kitchen, brimming with photographs, that I'd say her book should fill the shoes of the new perfect wedding gift.  

She not only shares recipes for foods I've never used before:  kefir, tofu, or mizo, but she includes old standards as well.  Maybe you want to make animal crackers, or little fish cheese crackers.  She has recipes that encourage using leftovers and always, always she enjoys her preparing her meals.  There's love in her food.  And never a hint of pressure---it's all about enjoyment and feeding.

I truly love this book.  One review likened her to Laurie Colwin, whose book Home Cooking is a classic in the style of conversational cookbooks.  Tell me a story and give me a recipe.  Lovely.

I heartily recommend this book.  Adore it.

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

Shaking my fur like a dog

Begging your pardon for not writing much these days.  The words just don't seem to come right now. Nothing going on, just quiet.  I think my brain's tired.  :)

Have been thinking about procrastination and how I have three pieces of fabric to make into skirts for me. Bought two of them the week before the stuff hit the fan here back in January.  I have a thick book of herbal teaching I've set aside.  Honestly, my children's antics have affected my ability to do what I love.  Trying to change that.

Shake out the cloth, gather up thread, and dust off the machine.  Be creative once again.

Put my herbalist's notebook on the work table with my collection of other herbal books.  Begin making tinctures again.  

* * *

I realize some folks are sick and tired of me being sick and tired.  Me too.  But when the enthusiasm wanes, it's tough to do things out of the ordinary.  We get into survival skills, and forget what brings us joy.  

Made my husband laugh tonight.  I told him how I have a tendency to see every event in the most tragic sense all. the. time.  He just shook his head, but to give him credit, it made him laugh.  He's driving me nuts right now.  I have headphones on, and he keeps telling me things, waving his hands to get my attention.  Be quiet, man!

* * *

Great quote from my Faulkner:  "Miss Jenny, being a true optimist---that is, expecting the worst at all times and so being daily agreeably surprised..."

I so understand that.  Is that a mother's dilemma, or am I just odd?  I live in expectation of calamity, and do you know how exhausting that is?

Hope to get back in the swing of things here.  We'll see.  Surely life is more beautiful than I allow it.  Think I'll focus on that and stop looking at each day as a catastrophe waiting to happen.  Anybody else struggle with this?

(listening to Mat Kearney's Air I Breathe and tobyMac's Til the Day I Die)

Resting in Him

Monsters.  Inward struggles.  Sin.  Began crying at Bible Study last night when the lesson lingered on the story about the killing of the male babies by King Herod.  Not sure why that got to me, but briefly the image of my own babies flashed through my mind.  Regret.

From that moment until this morning while I had quiet time, I was plagued by the demon called Not Good Enough.  And as I was wallowing in shame, a single quote in a book I'm reviewing jumped out at me.  "Surrender to what is.  Let go of what was.  Have faith in what will be. ~Sonia Ricotti*

Wow.

I have issues with each of those three sentences.  Surrender?  Gosh.  Letting go?  Hard.  Faith?  A bit better because it's not tarnished yet, but still, a stretch.

So, just previous to reading that quote, I cried out to God.  Again. Said I thought I'd done all the right things with our children.  Stories, hugs, prayer, dinner together at the table at night, church, a safe environment, baking together, laughter, tucking in at night, sharing what a personal relationship with Jesus was all about, and still it wasn't enough to attract our sons who've left the flock.  What more could I have done?  I relive these thoughts all. the. time.

God said, "Adam and Eve."

Oh.

Paradise wasn't enough for them.  Still not satisfied.  

It's just so darned hard.  I want us together as a family (same with God) in the deepest sense.  Will be content as I can be with my tribe here at home, and that'll have to be enough.  God is faithful.  There is a plan, not sure what, but there is one.  Glad I'm not in charge of this circus.

*quote taken from Rachel Macy Stafford's new book Hands Free Life

'Love Casts Out Fear' by Brother Nathan

With the turmoil caused by terrorists being constantly on everyone's minds, I was drawn to Brother Nathan's story called Love Casts Out Fear.

While Nathan was still a young child in Egypt, his pastor father was murdered before his eyes by killers targeting Christians.  For several years after, he vowed to revenge his father's death. Before that could happen, however, the Lord touched his spirit and claimed Nathan for His own.

The rest of the story speaks of his Christian upbringing, and his life in the hands of God, ministering to other believers. Clearly he's being used even now, still in the areas where he was raised, preaching the gospel and being a light in the midst of terror.  

"...through the living example of this twenty-first-century disciple, I hope you will catch a glimpse of how our mighty God can do extraordinary things through the lives of ordinary people who fully surrender to his will."~from the Introduction by David Culross

I was amazed at hearing of groups of Christians still living in the midst of such persecution.  These are Muslim-dominated areas, with Brother Nathan focusing on his homeland of Egypt.  In reading this I could see firsthand of how God's will dominates, no matter.

(i received this book free to review from bakerbooks)

'Every Little Thing' by Deidra Riggs

Another book to read with a pencil in hand.  Deidra Riggs with Every Little Thing has written a beautiful story that gives the reader permission to exhale, to give in to the workings of the Lord and to be who He created you to be.  Even when things just don't make sense.

She focuses on the 'good enoughs.'  The days when we feel insignificant and unworthy.  And she says He loves us just as we are.  We need this reminder.

Deidra shares her struggles with fitting into the places God has led her, focusing on a pastorate her husband accepted in Nebraska, where the black population is very, very small.  Deidra is black, so this is pretty significant, yet she shares the whole event with such humor.  She really is hilarious.  And it took her about seven years before she felt at home.  That's saying something.  She understands disappointment, but learned patience at the same time.

Her book is a comfort, and tells beautifully how He's working even when we can't see the image of what He's creating.  I loved it.

(i received this book free to review from bakerbooks)

After trip dust settling...

I seem to have run out of words.  Thinking about our trip and what to share, but it doesn't go down on paper so well.  The description could be:  great weather, excellent hotel, fun concert which middle daughter was over the moon about, got souvenirs in downtown Nashville---which is so extraordinarily clean and well-run, slept well, and no problems whatsoever.  Drama writes better, but there wasn't any, for which I'm very, very grateful.

We all needed a situation without trauma.  Life this year, as you know, has been a bit (understatement) on the stinky side.  I prayed for this to refresh my girls and that's what it did.  It was awash in prayer.  And while one of my concerns was parking for the concert, not being familiar with Nashville and that area---we just put everything to prayer and it was amazing how smooth  everything went.  Why am I surprised?  Even so far as to ask God's help with parking yesterday noon-time at Barnes & Noble in downtown Nashville.  Got a spot by the front door, while traffic was all about, and there were no parking places to be had.  I tell you, isn't that cool?  Call it coincidence if you want to, but I'm not falling for it.

And oddly enough, as I said, nothing happened while we were gone.  But, this morning, as oldest daughter was about to leave to go to the bank, she noticed a nail in her rear tire.  Flat.  And we took her car on the trip.  Timing is amazing.

And Gary and our youngest son, the only boy here at home, had a day of their own on Monday.  Bass Pro Shops huge new place downtown here, got some art supplies at another spot, pizza, library bookstore, just having a good time.  Our whole family here at the house had a bit of a break from the daily things.

* * *

So, today is restful.  Puttered inside earlier, dusting and vacuuming.  Getting acquainted with the house, even after a short trip.  Restoring.  Settling.

See, life is slow and mundane, and in a good way.  Work in the shop.  Beautiful weather.  Like a respite from hardship.

Now, let the fall celebrations begin.  As Gary said the other day, as I was making apple pies...he made reference to how I used to do something 'in the good old days' which are long past.  I said we'd have to create some 'good new days'.  And I believe this trip is the beginning.  Our wayward sons have hi-jacked this family this year to an extent we're not falling for anymore.  My girls and son here are at the forefront of my attention from now on.  Love 'em all, but won't let the sin rule our emotions anymore.  Attagirl.  Hear me roar.

Back home

My sweet girls at the Parthenon in Nashville today.  We got back home about dinnertime tonight.  Whirlwind trip (we left yesterday morning), but it couldn't have been improved upon.  Had such fun with my girls.  

Will share more later.