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.

Altar Guild Clown

Sometimes I think I'm put into certain situations to provide a level playing field.  And not to sound self-deprecating, but being overly particular just isn't my style.  I know how things should be done in ordinary life, but clearly I have issues with being on the Altar Guild.  Or the women on it have issues with me.  Goodness.

Today we had a working lunch, I guess you could call it.  With two women moving away, there are now only four of us to do the altar, and I'm still new and continue to have a steep learning curve.  Why do they put up with me?  Answer:  There aren't many folks doing this chore.

Called to task in that passive-aggressive manner Southerners are famous for----don't tell the person to their face, but to the group at large.  Seriously?  This time the brass vases for the flowers are showing some wear and need polishing.  Okay.  But nobody polishes anything.  Why would I even think of it?  Silver chalices sometimes have fingerprints on them.  Finger pointing (sorry for the pun) at the new guy.  I'm the only one at fault, apparently.  And considering I only hold the clean silver after it's dry with cotton cloth, it's baffling.  Also, two different cloths are used on the altar for wiping/serving but did anyone tell me?  No, but I'm supposed to know this.  You're talking to a Presbyterian here.  I've been selecting the cloths based on which embroidery I like best, but okay, I'll be the fall guy.  Eye roll.

* * *

The Reformation makes such sense.  Get rid of the frills and preach the Gospel.  I get it, but I do love the bells, whistles, and incense.  Yet it comes at a cost, that is, if you're going to be involved in the set-up.

As to the minute fingerprints, wipe them off, and move along, little dogie.

Grace, so important when folks focus too much on the non-essentials.

 I bared my soul to my husband after the lunch, and after I heard his sensible advice, I was good. Said it reminds him of the Orthodox Jews.  Legalism, plain and simple.  But let's get upset about real stuff, not cleaning.  I will try to do better, but again I say, lighten up.

Personally I believe the Lord has put me in this position for a purpose.  I really don't want to be so picky that I miss the big picture.  One woman gets her knickers in a twist when I do the flowers in the main sink we have and afterward have to wash the altar pieces in the same sink.  It's necessary.  (She's sort of a bacteria nazi.) Only place to do it.  She'd have me do the flowers in the bathroom, which is NOT going to happen.  Please.  I mean really.  Please.

Again, Grace.

* * *

Perfect example of how I roll...just found a fresh chicken egg in my shirt pocket, from having picked it up when I bedded the hens a couple of hours ago.  Forgot all about it.  Not unusual for me to carry around a couple, and accidentally have them break while they're in there.  See what these Altar Guild women have to work with?  Clearly God has a sense of humor.

(replaying tobyMac's song Til the Day I Die and Tenth Avenue North's Stay on Spotify)

The Anglican way

Four years ago the groom-who's-getting-married-on-Friday began taking his long-board to the Anglican church where we presently attend.  It's close the university and our house, so an easy journey.  In a car, it takes about five minutes to get there.  He visited there several Sundays, and encouraged me to go with him.  At first I was chicken---I mean, we'd been going to a Presbyterian mega church (visiting) for a couple of years after being at a a smaller reformed Presbyterian church.  All the bells and whistles of an Anglican church intimidated me.  The kneeling and genuflecting, all of it strange, but in a way, endearing.

Fast forward.  I went, I fell in love (literally) with the liturgy, and with my husband's blessing, in 2012, went through Confirmation classes and joined.  In 2013, the groom and one daughter did the same, and last year two more daughters did likewise.  Youngest son is on the fence about all of the rigmarole, as is my husband.  They go, but aren't interested in getting the secret handshake, so to speak.  Ah, but they go.  That's the main thing.

What's so amazing about our church, and not sure if it's indicative of the whole Episcopalian experience, is the worship.  Even Gary said the same thing.  The service isn't centered on a pastor's sermon or teaching.  With the kneeling and the crossing of yourself, and the bowing before the altar both coming in and going out of the pews, it's about showing deference to the Lord.  And I think for many of us, that's sometimes a bit awkward.  An outward display of a servant's heart.

I'm afraid we Protestants have so disinfected our churches that we've taken out the wonder.  The aspect of God's Holiness is sometimes missing.  We become so enamored in church attendance numbers and building huge fortresses that the worship part of our lives is missing.  Wonder what would happen if those churches that focus mainly on preaching would have a service of thankfulness and praise.  Not mindless praise music that goes on forever, but those old hymns that focus on God's Holiness.  Quiet praise.

I suspect we'd witness some broken spirits and tears.  And a healing.

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.

The Anglicans score once again...

Woke up a bit depressed, but thankful that being at church and being IN church helped immensely.  Arranged the roses which looked so colorful---pastels, red and yellow (Fresh Market had them for $6.99/dozen) and it's always nice when the expense is manageable, even though I get re-imbursed.  One of the older women at church thanked me for doing the flowers on a regular basis, saying how expensive it would be for a florist to do them. A little praise goes a long way, especially when I rarely hear any comments.  I think it's easy for all of us to take one another for granted, when a bit of an honest compliment is never inappropriate.

* * *

Our priest talked about a convention that was held in Texas earlier this month.  The Anglicans coming out strong against same-sex marriage, female priests and the sermon today was all about it...how the church is the Bride of Christ, and it's clearly inappropriate for the priest/minister to be a woman.  Men and women do have separate roles in life, like it or not.  He said it much more eloquently than I ever could, going into beautiful detail.  (My vocabulary has suffered greatly with the stress of the past few months---not kidding, so my thoughts tend to be on a fourth-grade level.)  Anyway, among other things our priest shared about a woman who used to be an Episcopal priest and felt the Lord convicting her to renounce her vows, which she did, and she now speaks against the ordination of women.  Her life has even been threatened because of her decision.  Isn't that just ridiculous?

Very grateful to be part of a church which follows historic tradition regarding such important issues.  Truly, if the church becomes so enamored in overlooking blatant sin, we're sunk.  The trend I'm seeing in friends who are in their thirties and pastoring in other denominations is to be so sympathetic to the varied lifestyles of their parishioners that they just give a passing glance to what used to be (in their eyes) considered sinful behavior.  Love the sinner/hate the sin has become love the sinner and ignore the sin.  They forget (as my husband says) that God is Holy.  He'll say, "Yes, God is love, but He's also Holy and can't look on sin."  We're all about looking on sin and enjoying every minute.

Personally I don't get the attraction to being knee-deep in blatant sin.  Doesn't it get weighty and tiresome?  How can it be better than a life free from that burden?  With our sons, I just don't get it.  And good grief, they didn't just pick lifestyles that border on evil, but they wanted the whole meal.  Maybe that's part of my reason for being so adamant in my beliefs, and so joyful at being part of a church with a strong stance.  Love hearing the passion in our priest's voice and other members when we agree on these things.  Several folks nodded their head during the sermon, my husband even slipping in a quiet Amen. His Baptist side creeps in every once in awhile.

Weekend thoughts

*Listening to Owl City's newest CD, Mobile Orchestra, which middle daughter has been waiting for for ages and ages.  So upbeat, and nice it's on free Spotify on the laptop.  She bought a copy online, but it's easier for me to just listen this way, until I load her copy.  Bird with a Broken Wing (#6) is beautiful and the lyrics cut me to the quick.  And #4 and #7 are pretty darn good too.

*Seems on Monday or Tuesday we'll be able to go see the van our friends are offering us.  He reassured Gary on the phone today that it runs fine.  I feel better about it....can release my concerns and let the Lord handle the details.  The couple have been involved in a custody situation with his wife's son, who she had previous to their marriage.  Allegations of unpleasant abuse by a playmate.  Not pretty.  We'd not heard from them because they'd been advised by their lawyer to leave their house and stay at a hotel.  So sad.  They have custody of the boy, who's only five, for six months now, though.  Time will tell what happens next.  Lots of prayer.

* * *

*Hot as the Dickens here.

*Feeling pretty Jake, though.  Not fretting.  House note paid and the utility bill is sort of caught up.  Not going to worry about anything else, at least not for the rest of the weekend.  Expecting balances being paid next week for a couple of jobs my woodboy finished, which is sweet to know.

*Had our own Communion service tonight here again.  You might remember youngest son won't take the common cup at church, so about once a month, we're doing it ourselves here.  Sweet.  I looked up some verses regarding spiritual interference, point to the importance of keeping our tent clean (Gary's favorite topic lately).  Focused on remembering God is with us no matter what we're doing at the time.  Constant company.

*Got the altar all set up tonight, flowers bought and arranged too.  Now tomorrow morning won't be such a rush. Nice to putter at the church, tidy the Nave, make sure the little dishes that are outside the doorways have blessed water in them (you can tell I'm still not-learning terminology), straighten the Prayer Books and Hymnals in the back of the pews, cut some Hydrangeas to put in the main meeting room, etc.  Housekeeping in general.  I'm good in a behind-the-scenes situation.

Looking forward to Sunday.  And thanks, your prayers are cherished.

Midweek things

For some odd reason, this morning I was hit with the idea of reading a blog I used to visit.  The woman who writes there had a stroke suddenly a few years ago.  Healthy, athletic, totally out of the blue for her to get ill in this way.  Well, she's written sporadically since her stroke, and frankly, I'd quit reading her.  No reason, but busyness on my part.  This morning I got updated on her life and was so shocked.  She's now living with her folks, and her husband and their children live in another city.  She's not seen her children in almost a year.  So sad.  I don't know the details, and don't need to know, but it renewed my hatred for strokes.  They're so devastating, and the destruction is all-encompassing.  One of the results of my mom's stoke is her altered personality.  It's often like nobody's at home.  A blankness which makes me sad and angry at the same time, but it's the reality.  To see my mom's puzzled expression infuriates me and that's the hard part.  It's true and not something I can change. I think my anger is directed at the loss.  My mom's physical self is present, but the nugget of her own self is gone for good.

Have to remember this is somebody's else life, both the blogger and my mom.  Mine is full enough.  

Saw secretly married son today.  His birthday was last week, but this is the first time we'd seen him in a few weeks.  He looked great, was tired, but we had a sweet visit.  And talked to freshly gone son, Jacob, and he's having a wonderful time.  Says it's hard to get used to nice folks.  His job at the restaurant here was so stressful, and the language and all was a drain.  Lots of profanity in a restaurant kitchen---the norm for most of them.  A hard work environment.  Well, where he is now, it's the opposite.  Not to say it won't get stressful when the place opens for the summer, but he says it appears that folks care.  A new situation for him.  Plus the inner-city church he went to here was long on need and short on giving to the involved members.  Jacob has a servant's heart, so was taken advantage of continually.  So glad he's left that for this new job.  

Now then.  Tomorrow is a home day.  Today was busy with going to Intercessory Prayer and then Bible Study tonight.  Neat thing---Gary really got into this class (it ended tonight), being one of the main folks who pipes up and comments.  He's getting over his angst with Anglicans and has grown accustomed to the rituals.  He's not keen, but is okay with it.  For that I'm deeply thankful.  In time God has answered that prayer.  I didn't see that coming.

Chickens tomorrow, white bean soup for dinner, maybe some dinner rolls and cornbread.  A quiet day without added things to do.  Sounds amazing.

Joy, no matter

~first breakfast of the year outside with the girls

Okay.  Here we go again.  No work in the shop.  The phrase, 'Do you trust Me?' ringing in my ears.  Gary even said a few minutes ago, he's having issues with that very same word.  Manna today.  I've even got Manna for tomorrow. :)  A day ahead, which isn't Biblical, but hey, I was at the store today.  One more bag of Navy beans and I can add bacon and this and that and make dinner.  

I read something at Relevant Magazine online (followed on FB, so that's how I found it), about slowing down enough to hear the Lord.  I'm going to quote, and give credit, so maybe that'll be okay.

"God’s response to Elijah’s desperation is at odds with what we’d expect. It’s simple and straightforward:

Sleep.

Eat.

Wait.

Stop and listen.

God chooses when He speaks.

God chooses what questions to answer.

God sets the tone.

In short, God wants Elijah to slow down and seek Him. He is not responding to Elijah’s sense of urgency.

When prayer is born of urgency, we’re dictating the questions God needs to answer rather than listening for the counsel He wants to give."~Ken Wytsma

The whole article can be found here.

* * * 

Beautiful.  The advice isn't to do something more, but to stop doing things.  Keep your mitts off, which is what my husband has said to me before, but the Lord says it in a gentle God-sort-of-way.  The Lord wanted Elijah to be still.  "I got this, Elijah."

My tendency in the past has been to keep reminding God of what's happening.  Beg.  Plead.  Make myself miserable.  Sort of like the nagging wife, which is something none of us want to aspire to.  

* * *

In other news....my husband is understanding my love of Anglicanism.  Get this.  He said yesterday he understands something about the Anglicans he'd been missing.  He's said before (well, several times), that he finds the brevity of our priest's sermons (called homilies) not a learning experience like he's used to.  Most times, though, there is a sweet nugget of blessing.  You have to be open, though.  Stand tough, and you can't always hear that still, small Voice.  He's gotten his feathers ruffled a bit in comparing these homilies to the long sermons of our past church-going.  He said, and I loved this, "The Presbyterian and Baptist churches are more into teaching lessons in church, while the Anglicans are all about Worship."

Bingo.

God is working, so I'll sleep, eat, wait, stop & listen.  I'm liking this plan.

Thursday evening

Wonderful weather.  Cloudy, but so pleasant.  A couple of windows up, but not many because Daisy the Pug has had her cough again.  Giving her echinacea, and she's better.   Raining now, but still, the temperatures are dishy.  Relaxes my spirit.

Bible study last night with the first 12 chapters or so of Isaiah.  Gary's been going, and he's getting to know folks, albeit that they're Anglicans (insert laughter), and he's seeing that they're not too scary.  Just folks.  My dear Presbyterian husband.  He's learning.  He knows I'm not budging, not in rebellion, but in belonging-ness.  

At the end of the study last night, our priest was talking about the Eucharist and why he has his back to the congregation when he prepares it, and I was mesmerized.  I just love listening to him---he's been blessed with a teaching gift.  He faces the cross which is at the top of the altar, breaks the bread and holds it up--and does the same with the wine.  He was talking about facing the heavenlies in worshiping the Father.  Liturgical East.  It's all so beautiful when it's explained.  So worshipful. 

~ ~ ~ 

And got to spend some time with the chickens before dinner.  Cleaned out their house a bit, gathered up the eggs, and sat while they ate some bread and seed I'd brought out.  As usual, Milk hopped up in my lap.  Adore.  The.  Chickens.  But you knew that.

Now drinking Vanilla tea and thinking about Spring Break, which I'm just beside myself about.  It begins NOW, not Monday.  We're going to bake chocolate chip cookies for some new neighbors---both rentals, one has a mess of young men in it, very friendly it seems, and another is a single mother with two little girls.  Just making folks welcome in our pleasantly ragged little neighborhood. :)

Music update:  Loving me some Spotify again (free is always a good thing), this time a Mumford & Sons song called Ghosts That We Knew.  Right about 3:20 is my favorite part.  The instrumental section.  Oh my, it makes me feel so good inside to listen to it. 

Saturday evening

So, I wonder how many women woke up this morning all bent out of shape because of having too long a 'to-do' list.  Holding up hand here.  I got to sleep a bit too late, but with the help of some wonderful herbal tea oldest daughter shared, slept fine.  Then woke up to let out the chickens.  So far, so good.  Got back into bed.  Brain began spinning.

Man.

Breakfast tea and a bit of quiet time.

Went to church with Gary to set up the Altar.  Finished decorating one tree that needed more of our homemade Crismons on it.  Hung around for heating guy to check the church furnaces.  Left and did some shopping, which actually was a splendid time.  The bulk of the shoppers had already gone home.  Whupped, I reckon.  We only went to Michael's and Fresh Market.  Avoided the malls for sure.  No need, anyhow.

Home to a honey-baked ham husband's shop landlady gave us, along with some scalloped potatoes and angel biscuits I made.  

And all my anxiety was for nothing.  

All is well.  Shopping done except for groceries and some stocking stuffers.   

Take a breath.  It's all okay.

Saturday evening

Sat out with the chickens this morning.  Nora and Anastasia looked down-right pitiful.  Their pin feathers are coming in and they look all prickly.  Madelyn has almost finished filling out again, and she must've been aware, because she was strutting around, and being a glutton with their treats.  No need to rub it in.  Milk, whose molting is almost over, was being the darling she always is, hopping into my lap so I could cuddle her.  I do love that chicken.  Sweet Nora hopped up for a second, but was so bedraggled, I think she just felt too cranky to be hugged.  Besides, I've read that they feel a bit sore and uncomfortable when their new feathers are coming in.  It's all an education to me, since they didn't molt last winter, being that they weren't even a year old.  

~ ~ ~

So thankful for my Woodboy to have work in the shop, enough to get us caught up and allow for turkey and all the trimmings.  God is faithful whether we are or not.

~ ~ ~

And looking forward to church in the morning, as always.  I got orange tulips and white roses for the altar vases, gifted by some friends' daughter's birthday.  They'll be the last official flowers before Christmas, since we'll just use greenery (holly and magnolias) until the poinsettias are bought.  The paraments will be green, so I figured the orange/white would look pretty.  Fall-ish.

~ ~ ~

Now to keep my head on straight for the coming week.  Was at a neighbor's house today and she'll be alone, I think, and I'm not sure whether to invite her or not.  I'm not the most gracious inviter-of-folks-who-never-come-over, and generosity as a hostess isn't my strong-suit.  And with our son's fiance coming, I'm a bit antsy about that.  Just a bit.  Have promised myself to NOT get overcome, and inviting more folks gets me anxious.  Might be the right thing in a Christian spirit sort of way, but this is where being an introvert is a true hang-up.  I could be really great at being a hermit.

Not going to fret about it, though.  Enough on my plate.

Mid-week

The General Confession (guaranteed to make me cry, every week)

ALMIGHTY and most merciful Father; We have erred, and strayed from thy ways like lost sheep. We have followed too much the devices and desires of our own hearts. We have offended against thy holy laws. We have left undone those things which we ought to have done; And we have done those things which we ought not to have done; And there is no health in us. But thou, O Lord, have mercy upon us, miserable offenders. Spare thou those, O God, who confess their faults. Restore thou those who are penitent; According to thy promises declared unto mankind In Christ Jesus our Lord. And grant, O most merciful Father, for his sake; That we may hereafter live a godly, righteous, and sober life, To the glory of thy holy Name. Amen. ~from 1928 Book of Common Prayer

Listening to For King and Country's CD.  Oh my.  I know I've mentioned them before, but bears re-mentioning.  The name of the CD is Run Wild, Live Free, Love Strong, and is wonderful.  The songs Shoulders and It's Not Over Yet are my favorites.  When oldest daughter plays it in her car, the sound is a m a z i n g, since her speakers really go to town.   The second song I mentioned played LOUD is the best.  You feel like God can do anything.  Well, He can, but you believe it.  Linking it here.  I can't check to see how the link works...with our new Internet through our T-Mobile account we've already used our supply of 4G, and are limited to (though an endless supply) of 2G.  Can't watch videos, but we're not complaining.  A lesser bill is a fine balance.  Feels so funny, going backwards.  Cancelling cable and using the roof antennae again, and our 2G with the Internet is like our old phone Internet....well, not quite that slow. :)  Yeah, first world problems.

Feeling blessed.  Gary's had such an endless run of work these past two months.  Our house note being cut in half is wild, and being able to pay the bills on time, plus just the relief of not feeling so tapped financially is truly incredible.  It's deeply contenting.  

And I'm learning to take life in littler bites.  But mind, this has to be re-learned on a daily basis.  Heard from son who's engaged, after I asked if his fiance could/would come for dessert/or the whole meal for Thanksgiving.  He said she would.  Immediately I felt anxiety, then prayed and released it to the Lord.  I feel peace today.  We'll look ahead, and not behind. And remember, I'll have to keep setting this in God's lap.  I'll have the tendency to over-clean and just make myself miserable.  Also considering we'll invite my mom, who's a bit of a challenge---well, Thanksgiving should prove to be an interesting day.  But we'll make it.  Asking them is the right thing to do.  Doesn't mean it's easy, but it's right.

With firstborn son's girlfriend going out of town with her family to NC, he'll be here as well and that guarantees all my chickens will be around my table.  What a lot has happened in 12 months.  By God's grace we've survived. 

No drama, least not immediately.  I don't want anymore of that stuff.

Friday afternoon

Lately, our children have had more of an open-ended situation come Friday.  My mom has taken a liking to having our youngest (18) son with her on that day.  If it's needed, he'll do her yard, but mostly they just visit.  It's good for both of them.  He'll take his schoolwork with him.  And the two youngest girls left here with me get to chill a bit.  We don't realize how wired we are during the rest of the week until Friday rolls around.  Usually pretty tuckered.

Those girls have made a habit of having their own tea party in the mornings---every morning, except weekends.  After the working class here leave they'll put on the tea kettle, get out one of our prettiest teapots (that need using), and will prepare tea.  Breakfast and a hot pot of tea, with pretty china.  I had to get over my angst at things possibly breaking, but it's just stuff.  They get such pleasure out of it, and it makes me happy to see them all settled on the sofa with their tea things set out on the coffee table in front of them.  They'll watch an I Love Lucy CD or just sit.  A sweet way to start the day.

I know.  Precious.  But they really do do this.  Guess in some things I've set a good example.  :)

And as usual lately, I've had my tea in bed.  I'm taking it slow.  With my overdoing it mentally earlier in the week, trying to get my focus.  The girls and I will get Mom some groceries later on this afternoon and will do her cleaning.  I hate it.  Seriously, I dread it like nothing else.  Honesty.  There's such guilt associated with going to my mom's house.  When you're the child who never did quite cut it (what is UP with that?), you drag around an emotion of 'never good enough' and it's hard to shake.  No matter what you do, it's there.

So, I'm going to look ahead to tomorrow when oldest daughter and I go off on a day trip.  Just an hour or so away, but I told her I'd treat her to lunch in a small town south of us.  Will take photos and report of our day afterwards.

See.  If you dangle a treat up in front of you when a trying situation has to be mastered, it's

 much easier to deal with things.  Oh, and Sunday is our church's saint's Feast Day, St. James.  We'll have a fish fry (which we do every year), and I have the joy of doing the flowers for someone's birthday, and setting up the altar.  Joy.  The girls will make a pumpkin pie or two and pasta salad to add to the growning tables.  A wonderful day all around.  Oh, and the service will have incense.  Bliss as well.

More (not necessarily needed) books

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

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

We had Church

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

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

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

And then the doubt sneaks in.

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

T. S. Eliot

So, the other day at the used library bookstore, I found the above-pictured book Lives of the Saints and thought it was pretty peachy.  Only $3, but I left without it.  Had only bought T.S. Eliot's Murder in the Cathedral ($1.50), and something for the girls, but was resisting further temptation.  Bought a couple of used books the night before somewhere else.  Addict.

Couldn't get the Saints book out my head (closet Catholic, remember), and went back today.  Also, was able to buy Eliot's Four Quartets for a buck, which our library doesn't have on the shelves (and really doesn't now with me having gotten the one at their bookstore).  You'd think they'd know.  I was able to load it on my Kindle the other day, but that's just not the same.  I like to have a hard copy and a pencil at hand.  

Anyway, finished Murder in the Cathedral last night, and all I can say is wow.  When a writer can get a feeling across that goes deeper than the print in front of you, that's a gift.  C.S. Lewis had it, as did George MacDonald. It's such a rare gift, that I rarely even see it expressed.

Got online to research Thomas Becket (who's the main character in the Cathedral book), and my new chubby Saints book was able to give me some more information.  Also, since the play talks about Saint's Days, which we Anglicans are on top of, I knew what was going on.  

Can I say for the upteenth time I love the Anglican church?  I do.  Really.  

~ ~ ~

And it's raining---the first appreciable amount in over a month, least at our house.  And there's beef stew for dinner, and I might make a pan of shortbread later on.  I've already bought the flowers for the altar as well. A perfect evening.

Monday evening

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

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

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

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

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

A restful Friday

Lit some Frankincense/Myrrh in my little incense burner in the window. The breeze is moving it around the room....bliss.  We had a refreshing storm last night, and the air is cool. The curtains are blowing.

Had tea out the with the chickens, and listened to the men talking and hammering on a new roof a couple of houses down. That's an encouragement, knowing a vacant house is being restored.  Wild birds about, chickens not eating the banana I cut up for them (go figure), greening trees, blossoms falling off of the Dogwood that hangs over our fence....just a quiet morning.  My legs got cold, even though I was sitting in the sunshine.

And I got out two books to look into for the spring.  One is At the Still Point compiled by Sarah Arthur, it's one to read once Ordinary Time begins on the Liturgical Calendar, which is Pentecost (June 8th).  Looking forward to this one.  She puts together a devotional using Scripture, poems, and literature and while I've saved the book and hardly cracked the cover, still, it looks dishy.  I'm making myself wait before reading too much of it.  Bonnie, it makes me think of you. :)

Will read more of Breathing Room:  Open Your Heart by Decluttering Your Home by Lauren Rosenfeld and Dr. Melva Green as well.  I'm reading that one in fits and starts.  They talk about the emotional attachments we have to our things, and explain how to peel off some of the baggage that causes us to retain items we really ought to let go of.  More than any other book on the subject, I'm understanding how to decide which things are keepers and which are better tossed.  And why a radical throw-out isn't the best idea.  You have to deal with the sticky parts of our saving....the why's....or we'll just save more stuff we don't need.  It's about getting to the bottom of our issues.

So...

For the rest of the day will make a batch of peanut butter cookies, put on a dear little chicken to simmer (shhh, don't tell ours...remember, we don't eat our friends) in my cast iron pot for Chicken Curry tonight. And will help the least one get down the steps out back.  She twisted her knee the other day and is having to hobble around on crutches.  Thankfully she's better and we already had crutches.  No doctor visit necessary, just rest, ice and the like.

Will go now.  Nothing pressing, but a quiet day of home doings.

Beauty

~from the church's website

"Once in New Hampshire I had contrived a Sunday outing to the Church of the Transfiguration in Bretton Woods for Evensong.  I wanted to hear the boys' choir which sang there.  I shall never forget that afternoon.  I was at once in paradise and hell. I thought I had never seen and heard such beauty: the mountain valley, the brown-grey stone of the little church, the handsome congregation, the candles and crosses and dark wood, the beautiful faces of the choir boys and the seraphic music.  We sang "Saviour, Breathe an Evening Blessing", and, during the recessional, when I was in an agony, knowing that it was over, and that I would never see this again, we sang "Ten Thousand Times Ten Thousand".  I was in a transport of grief, frenzy, and ecstasy.  I felt that I had suddenly stumbled across something that had been there all along and that I had missed.  Something had pushed open the tiny door into the garden, and I would never be consolable after that glimpse.  It all had something to do with beauty and loss and antiquity and irrevocability and desire and vision."~from Thomas Howard's book Christ the Tiger

A joyous Easter

Went to the Easter Vigil at church last night. More wonderfulness. Lots of music and Scripture, culminating in us reaffirming our baptismal vows and our priest passing down the aisle, sprinkling us as he passed. I loved that. Afterward we had a dinner, which was the perfect ending.  Today was a traditional Easter service, but honestly, I enjoyed Maundy Sunday's service most of all.  Just so raw and true.  I'm a fan of 'what you see is what you get' and that was perfect.  Painful, but perfect.

Now resting a bit before frying chicken for the least one's birthday, which was yesterday, but we're celebrating it for two days.  She wanted to go to church last night and eat at the Easter banquet, so we've postponed her dinner until tonight.

Curious about last night's doings.  The evening began without candles lit, except for a couple.  Then, as the evening progressed, the stories in the New Testament culminated with Christ as the Light of the World in the book of John, and the candles were lit, the lights in the nave turned on and I felt as if a darkness had fallen off of me.  Not feeling it so much today...just tired, but it was such a strong emotion.  The hard times of our son being in the Guard and away, plus my mom's stroke have been so burdensome.  In addition to Christmas busyness, all the cold weather and Lent, it's been a difficult few months.  I'm ready for a fresh beginning. And I'm ready now.  Sounds pretty blissful, doesn't it?