Wednesday afternoon

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The day after...

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

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

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

Wisdom is often so elusive.

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

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

Hope you're well.  Take care.

Sunday afternoon

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

Take care.

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)

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.  

Friday noon

Just three of us here at home, just now.  Oldest daughter has broken her work fast (quit her job to rest in late January), and is working part/part-time at a little bookstore across the way from my husband's shop.  So, she's working a couple or three afternoons a week, building up herself again.  Her dry eye syndrome is still a concern, and she still can't wear her contacts, so is taking it slow.  Healing takes time, and we've got plenty of that.

Right now I'm having my own quiet.  In bed, window open, just hung out sheets, can hear one of our numerous wind chimes near my window.  Chickens making soft noises.  A good sheet-drying day with plenty of sunshine and warmth.  Windows up.  Washer spinning.  Thinking about having a restful weekend without drama.

There are things to do, however.  Flower-buying tomorrow for the altar, and setting up the same.  Filling in for someone else.  And after church on Sunday, will eat lunch with our priest's wife who heads up the Altar Guild along with a couple of other women.  One is our church secretary, who is Roman Catholic, so has her own spin on setting up the things and using the linens.  I feel so Mitford-like.  Our church is going to re-vamp the Altar Guild book, which I wasn't even aware of being in existence (but which could've prevented my endless mess-ups).  Thankfully, my altar learning curve is lessening, but still, I set the wine/wafers/silver up and still just stand there, scratching my head, checking my photos on my phone, hoping I've finally got it right.  Actually, I think I do.

* * *

Have a new review cookbook on its way.  The publisher likens her book to Laurie Colwin's Home Cooking, and since I'm partial to her food writing (though not her fiction, for some odd reason), am looking forward to reading it.  This one is called The Homemade Kitchen by Alana Chernila.  Will let you know.  Pulled out my copy of Orangette's Molly Wizenberg's A Homemade Life too.  With our dinner being so stupendous last night, am hoping to do more of the same this weekend.  Good eats, you know.

This is what we had:  My saucy friend, Diane, made a knock-off version of Olive Garden's Zuppo Toscano here.  I just took her recipe, incorporated it with our priest's wife's recipe and with minor changes, we had dinner!

My version:

One pound of Italian Sausage.  I made mini meatballs of the meat, just (pardon the term) squirting the sausage out of the end of the soft casings.  Fried them in a skillet with a little butter in it.

In another skillet I browned until soft a chopped onion, three celery stalks, and three small carrots.

When the sausage was done, or almost done, I put everything in my cast iron pot.  Added two Knorr Chicken bouillon cubes and water to cover.  Also sprinkled in about 1/2 teaspoon of both Oregano and Thyme.  No salt, which afterward surprised me, since the bouillon was salty enough.  Also put in two cans (rinsed, since middle daughter has an aversion to bean juice....who knows?) of Cannellini beans (white kidneys) and a few small, chopped up red potatoes.

Last thing...I added a bit bunch of chopped fresh Kale toward the end of cooking.  Diane adds cream to hers, which is probably a wonderful last touch, but I didn't do that.  I'm jealous of my half &half in my tea, so tend to parcel it out stingily.

Now to beat that meal, which might be a challenge.  I think I'm waking up from a bad dream.  Haven't taken an interest in fussing over meals in a long time.  My dear friend, Tina, gave us some family silver recently, and we used the glamourous soup spoons with our meal.  

All of this talk makes me want to watch Julie and Julia again. :)  Love the way Julie's husband eats in that movie.  Just nom-nomming his way through all that she cooks.

Must go.  Just-married-son is on his way to wash clothes.  First time of him doing that, but works for me.

And off he goes...

Second son left for California this afternoon, and should arrive (our time) in a bit over an hour.  Had an excellent visit, very healing for the children here at home.  The girls especially needed to be around a brother who seeks the Lord's will for his life.  This kid's a blessing and makes us very proud.  Talk about having his head screwed on straight, my goodness.

Glad I got this shot of him, unexpected and un-posed since he was just waiting on the other side of the driveway for his sister to move her car and his dad to get the van backed up to load.  He stood there, I clicked and there you have it.  New beard and moustache.  Lookin' good.  

Such a motley crew my children.  A variety with a bit of everything.  Literally.  

Guess it's a balance.

Anyway, showed you the rest of my tribe with the wedding (since taken down) of the wedding, and this one was missing.

And, yes, I cried here at home after we came back from the airport.  I know you understand, those with children out of town.

Labor Day

Your comments are so sweet.  Thanks very, very much.  

* * *

Today is the letting down sort of day.  Tired, especially after having a busy service at church yesterday with the Bishop there and a Confirmation.  Luncheon afterward.  Much moving of tables and chairs (my husband again), unwrapping food and clean-up afterward.  And with our second son home today, we're riding high on that wonderfulness.  Much emotion here and there.

I want to share something funny about our youngest daughter (always known as the least one when I write).  She has glasses on in the wedding shot of her, but she doesn't really wear a prescription pair.  She picked those frames out at the dollar store, I banged out the lenses and she's worn them for about two weeks.  Black with those rhinestones on the corners, but no lenses.  Just makes me laugh.  She puts them on first thing in the morning, and wears them all day.

And as to our clothes.  Several things came from the thrift store:  my ankle boots, the least one's dress and her boots, middle daughter's boots, my husband's bow-tie (he bought four), his jacket and his wingtips.  We made out real good at a couple of thrift stores.  Amazing when you think about it.

Now looking forward to non-dramatic days.  School begins here tomorrow with me teaching only the two girls---and it delights me to show you their sweet faces in the pictures.  Life surely can now be about more mundane things.  It's been about the son who just got married and his two rascal brothers for way too long.  The children at home finally admitted the other day that they were tired of everything centering around those boys.  Oh my.  Not what I wanted to hear, but needed to be aware of nonetheless.

Tomorrow is a new day.  Thankful for that.  New beginnings.

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.

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)

Thursday morning

Yesterday we delivered my mom's groceries to her, and we all noticed she had more food in her fridge/freezer than seemed appropriate.  With her constant fear of running out of money (which won't happen), my concern is she'll curtail her eating so as to conserve.  My thinking is that she'll drink her Ensures for meals when she should be eating real food.  Can't be certain, but it's a possibility.  Must watch her.

Her Social Security deposits automatically on the third of the month, but with that being near the weekend, it might go in early.  She's afraid that suddenly it won't deposit, and it even keeps her up at night.  Every month, toward the end, she begins to fret and lose sleep.  Can't reason with her, being that her brain just can't seem to keep up.  It just doesn't sink in, no matter what I say.

And on it goes.

* * *

What with juggling her bill-paying, cleaning and food-buying----added to that concern for our children, life is a full-time job.  Heck.  Used to, when the kids were small, I'd sit and cross-stitch.  All.  The.  Time.  Have a baby perched on my shoulder and stitch away.  Our youngest son was raised that way, more than the others, and he's nineteen.  Not sure when I began pulling away from handwork and just began cleaning, and that not awfully well.  Cleaning is a skill I struggle to maintain on a daily basis.  Most times I tend to sit in one spot with a glazed expression on my face.  I will say this in my defense, though.  I know my daughters.  When we finish whatever we're doing at any particular time during the day, we gather in the living room and talk.  A couple or more times a day.  The girls and me.  Sometimes youngest son, if he can pull himself away from his drawing.  If I don't have handwork to show for my time, I do have solid relationships with my girls.  And with me never having a sister, this is treasure indeed.

Saturday at home

Nat'l Guard son called me last night.  He'd been at camp down in Mississippi for over two weeks, so it was wonderful to hear from him.  He got an expected promotion and unexpected commendation from his superior officers as well.  As hard as Basic Training was last year, he's grown from it, so it was all for good.  And he came by tonight, unexpectedly, as we were eating, and he had a plate with us.  Feeling blessed.

Also, second son called me from California this afternoon while I was out.  Sat in Fresh Market's parking lot (ate a delicious chicken salad sandwich) and talked for 45 minutes.  Another blessing.  He's a bit torn up about a girl he was interested in---she told him last week she didn't want to pursue a relationship, but he said she let him down very sweetly.  Doesn't make it any easier.  I told him I believed if God is over a situation like that, that you don't have to anguish over making it work. Not that it'll be pain-free, but a couple who belong together sort of meld.  I believe that.  From the start she was so hesitant, and he had to work so hard to keep her interested.  She was almost fearful.  But happily, he'll be coming for a two-week visit in September.  We're all over the moon.  His job there ends in early November and he'll be here (I believe he said) over the winter and may go back next spring.  Don't know and don't have to think that far.

Why am I telling you all of this?  Guess to set up a level playing field.  I'm so proud of my kids who are trying, really trying.  Balances out the ones who cause us to wrestle.  

* * *

Hot here.  So hot.  The poor chickens pant and hold their wings away from their little bodies.  We put frozen soda bottles underneath their roosting perch at night, and they actually seem excited to bed down at night.  I figure the cold air rises and cools their lizard-like feet.  At least that's the idea.

This is the heat that causes Southerners to go a bit mad.  Maybe that's why writers from here are all a bit strange.  All of them.  My favorite wonderful Faulkner as well.  Story has it he refused to have an air conditioner in his house, and the day after he died, his wife had one installed.  That's what we were told.  It's still there in the house.

Hoping the rest of the weekend is restful.  Gary's having some back pain which we're attributing to the accident.  He's not seriously hurting, but he just needs to chill.  We told him to stay at home from church tomorrow.  Sleep in.  Sounds healing.  Our sensibilities are so worn, we could all do with some idle time.  Easy to get ruffled with this and that, but for the weekend we're good.

Healing

My girls are finally having to deal with the nonsense their brothers have put them through these past few months.  They'd not reached that place yet.  Our youngest, who's newly thirteen, is one who will always say she's fine, even when she's not.  She stuffs things down.  Our middle girl, who's sixteen, doesn't hide it so well.  For example, when oldest son came by on Father's Day, she'd just woken up from a nap, walked right past him where he was in the living room, and didn't even acknowledge his presence.  I call that audacious, and I didn't say a word.  I won't stand in the way of how these girls relate to their brothers.  I won't scold or say a word.  They have to get to a place where they can deal, and seems today was that day.  Know this, though.  None of the girls are aware of what his girlfriend does for a living.  They don't need that in their heads, and the youngest ones wouldn't understand anyway.  The girls are just hacked that he's living in sin.  Yeah, that's enough for their sweet minds to get around.

Middle daughter said she felt let down by those she felt she could count on and trust (meaning the boys).  Abandoned.  She and I just cried, her openly, me trying to hide it from her.  I cry all the time, which they're used to, but don't want to appear fragile when I need to be the strong one.  She'd written a very sweet letter to the least one telling her they were best friends and how she wanted to 'be there' for her.  It was awesome in its tenderness.

Felt good to hear them being open.  I told her it's been healing for me to get mad on paper, and middle daughter said she'd done that, but hadn't felt a release from it.  Dang those boys.  They've said what they're doing isn't hurting anyone.  They don't have a clue.

Was reading Matthew 13:24-30, the Parable of the Weeds, and it's our family.  Not a pleasant ending, but it's so apropos.

* * *

Jesus told them another parable:  "The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field.  But while everyone was sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and went away.  When the wheat sprouted and formed heads, then the weeds also appeared.  The owner's servants came to him and said, 'Sir, didn't you sow good seed in your field?  Where then did the weeds come from?'

'An enemy did this,' he replied.  

The servants asked him, 'Do you want us to go and pull them up?'

'No,' he answered, 'because while you are pulling the weeds, you may uproot the wheat with them.  Let both grow together until the harvest.  At that time I will tell the harvesters:  First collect the weeds and tie them into bundles to be burned; then gather the wheat and bring it into my barn.'"

* * *

As my husband says repeatedly, we have to keep our tent clean.  And even tonight after dinner he said he so much enjoys our home now.  No animosity or struggles.  The Spirit is clearly present and we try to stay on top of it.  Can't let our guard down, but try to stay on top of what's in our children's heads.  You have to.

And I'm reading a review book by Nancy Ortberg called Seeing in the Dark, and it's exactly what I need today and everyday lately.  In dark days God is so present, even more so than in the joys---that's the message.  It's a book of hope.  And in contrast, I reviewed a book by her husband awhile back.  Not keen on him, but she is a comfort. You just never know. :)

Letting go...

[Daddy] said, "All children must look after their own upbringing."  Parents can only give good advice or put them on the right paths, but the final forming of a person's character lies in their own hands.~Anne Frank

* * *

The quote above is in Michele Cushatt's book called Undone, which is probably the best book I've read all year.  She tells how she's survived a divorce, a remarrying, a blended family, cancer, adoption, and everything in-between.  But she tells it with such grace, and pain and lots of humility.  I reviewed it here.

This morning I woke up thinking, "Oh great.  The junk is still junk, and I've not been dreaming."  Then, I kid you not, the Lord said in a very quiet voice, almost a whisper, "Get on Facebook."  True story.  Well, I got my phone out, logged in and the first thing I saw on my news feed was a post by Michele about a free 7-day email challenge.  I read about it on the FB feed and signed up.  The first note came immediately to my email box and it was spot on what I needed to hear.  God knew. And to cap it off, she said she was sorry.  I know she's talking to hundreds of women (and probably a sizable number of men) about their particular pains.  The I'm sorry just cut me to the quick, though.  I so needed to hear that.  And on came the tears.

Now, the best part.  She said to write it down.  All the ugly stuff and all the pain.  I'd just been talking to the Lord last night on my swing about how I needed to get mad.  Doggone angry.  So I did.  On paper.  So relieving.  I'd not given myself permission to rail about this nonsense, have always held something back, thinking I was being unfaithful to my children.  And still, I've had trouble accepting the reality.  Surely not my kids.  Huh.  Nobody's holding them captive or for ransom.  They're willing participants.  

Gary's all eat up with this.  We just mailed a birthday card to oldest son with a giftcard in it, and I stuck in a photo of him and me when he was a month old.  Reminders of sweet times.  Gary thanked me for buying it and getting it ready for all of us to sign (even though it'll be late getting to him), and said he knew my heart wasn't in it.  Yeah, well.  You gotta do what you gotta do.  Some things are just right.

And now, life moves slowly.  But here's the thing.  Bills are getting late, money's tight, need work in the shop, but I feel so close to the Lord.  He's right beside me.  Inside of me.  All around.  Crying alongside of me.  A comfort.  He knows exactly where we are, has given authority for it to be this way....all the frustrations and hurts, but has provided rest as well.  And sometimes I get to the place where I'm alright with that.  If He says it's supposed to be this way, who am I to argue?

Yes, He's got this.

Just today

The Lord has a way of providing balance when I'm about at the end of my rope.  Knot in place, dangling in space.  

Last night third son (the nat'l guard one, who's officially getting married in september) called me to talk and we were on the phone about an hour and a half.  A huge blessing.  Our relationship has healed and grown so much, for which I'm immensely thankful.  Immensely.  And tonight second son called from California and we spoke for 45 minutes.  We just got off.  I needed to hear from my boys, and with the other two who live away being off the charts, well, God knows what heals my spirit.

After my last blog post with pouring out my pain, I find it so amazing that the Lord prompted my boys to call.  Not surprised, but so touched.  And they called me.  Just me.

Focus is so hard.  I got to thinking after we got home from church today.  Trying to figure out what I need to do to help me for longer stretches of time, and what exactly wrenches my heart.  I'm still having trouble with not breathing deeply enough.  And anything I hear about friends' children wandering hurts to the extent I do have trouble getting a deep breath. Just stress, but yoga tonight helped.  I know the triggers, but don't seem to be quick enough to identify the situations before they're on me.

Tomorrow.  Tea in bed first---very important.  Beginning to tear into the kitchen deep cleaning.  I'm so pleased with the work we've done so far.  I'm going to paint my grandmother's old cabinet a deep turquoise blue too.  Now it's a pale green, which matches the walls, but a bit of drama might be fun to see.  I've got to take the clothes dryer apart sometime this week.  We've got a knock when it turns, and sometimes it has to be encouraged to spin.  We'll open it, hand turn it and then it'll work fine.  Some little zipper or button or something is catching somewhere.  I've taken that dryer apart so many times, it's becoming a yawner.  No big deal at all.

~ ~ ~

Glad our kids here in the house seem to be on the same page.  Gary talked to our youngest son who's 19, just checking what he's got on his mind.  He's very quiet, is an awesome self-taught artist and spends lots of time alone, which he prefers.  And usually, when our kids graduate high school, they've gotten jobs that fall.  Well, considering (three of the four) other boys who've left and their reactions when they hit the public, not always knowing how to handle the pressure----we're not pushing him to do the same.  Praying for something to show itself that Gary and he can do together.  We're not setting him loose.

We followed their talk with our own Communion service here on Saturday night.  Those Anglicans we go to church with might gasp with shock to hear we'd do that, but our son has issues with the Common Cup at church.  He can't get his head around sharing the same cup with everyone.  I get it.  So, we got around that, and Gary led us in receiving together here.  If you've not shared the Lord's Supper at home, you don't know what you've missed.  Pretty cool.

Must go.  Have said enough.  Thanks for your prayers.  I know you do really pray for me.

Friday

Okay, if you don't want to read about my bad mental health day, then fair enough.  You've been warned.

Today is oldest son's thirtieth birthday.  As most moms, my thoughts have been on the day he was born, and how we went with Gary's dad to dinner in Oriental, NC on the night before Jonathan was born.  We lived in New Bern back then, just for a year, and with him overdue, it was my FIL's plan to distract us (my MIL had been out of town).  Just reliving it.

And with us cleaning out closets, dressers, and what-have-you, I've run into lots of photos of the kids.  Last night I found two in particular of Jonathan, sweet little darling.  In one shot, that just pierced my heart, he's got his back to the camera and he's about five or six.  It's that little neck.  The most vulnerable part of any child.  His hands are behind his back, looking out the window, and he's wearing a red sweater and little blue (long-sleeved as he used to say) pants.  Young and vulnerable.  Before all this nonsense.

Got into bed last night---late----read and turned out the light, then couldn't get to sleep.  I was beside myself.  Went out back between one-thirty and two and just pleaded with the Lord to take away the pain.  I just couldn't bear it anymore.  Some days are better than others.  Anticipating his birthday was more than enough.

Anyway, no great revelations, but the sweet oblivion of sleep.  Escape.

I've never dreaded any of our kids' birthdays.  It's always been something to anticipate.  We've been together in some sense, even if not physically.  Last year I made him a cake, which our son who lived with him took to their apartment.  I realize he's grown, and that's not the issue, as you well know.  The separation between us and him is huge, and it's all of a spiritual nature.  We still keep in touch, though it's pretty surface.  But to know I've given birth to a child who's become so decadent is awful.  Sometimes, like last night, it's just unbearable.  There's no escape, but the desperate need for Grace.  For me and him.

I stay in God's face.  No embarrassment or hesitation in speaking up for Him.  At the end of the day, He's all there is.  But I'm so tired of crying.

A mother's re-focus

The verse for now is, "My Grace is sufficient for you."  

I know too much.  More than my husband about our sons.  Moms tend to, you know.  Stuff is worse than I could ever imagine (speaking of son and his girlfriend's business), and quite honestly, my imagination isn't very active.  I can go a certain distance and then say to myself, "Oh surely not. Please no, he can't be doing that."  I'm pretty much, a what-you-see-is-what-you-get person.  And I take folks at face value.  I end up being gullible when I should be shrewd.  But, here's the thing---the Lord has given me two spiritual gifts, ones I was made aware of ages ago.  One is the gift of healing, which I used to take to mean the laying on of hands.  In reality, it's the herbs, and I do have a God-given knack with them.  Makes me laugh.  The other gift is discernment, but only with those outside the family.  I can see through a fake instantly, almost like mind reading, as long as they're not blood.  My kids can fool me all day long.  So, when they tell me something, whether it's believable or not, I accept it.  A stranger or a friend, not for a second.

The Lord says to walk away from our boys, as I mentioned in my last post.  Pray, and don't engage on purpose.  Let them make the moves toward me, but don't initiate.  That's hard.  I tend to want to at least text when I've not heard in a few days.  The thing is---I want them more than they need me.  Yeah, I get it.  I don't yearn for too much involvement with my own mother either.

He asks me to trust Him.  Don't help except to pray.  No letters, no nothing.  I hate to see my boys entrenched in lifestyles that are so full of darkness.  But they're okay with that.  And when oldest son was here the other day---he'd not been by since he began his new job and had out-of-town training---he had a different look on his face.  He looked happy, which is no big deal, really.  He always looks happy, but there was a frenzied look about him.  Glittery.  My neighbor had the same look on her face last week when I visited her.  She's sort of too into mystical things, and had a story about this New Age/witchcraft-like herb store she went to, but it was hard to believe, at least to me.  Another story for another day.

Demons.

I just shake my head.

Now, to not give too much air-time to the prince of the air, our son who's in California is doing very, very well.  That Christian retreat where he's working is concerned for the spiritual and physical welfare of their employees as much as wanting them to be good workers.  They were taken as a group to a large non-denominational church over the state line in Oregon yesterday.  After five years in the restaurant business, and the worldly atmosphere there, he's being refreshed with other believers.  He's exactly where the Lord would have him be, and that gives me great peace.  Even though I miss him crazy-like.  Definitely a Praise the Lord situation. :)

I'll stop now.  Have more to say, but need to quit.  Y'all take care.

Exactly...

"The mild red road goes on beneath the slanting and peaceful afternoon, mounting a hill. 'Well, I can bear a hill,' he thinks.  'I can bear a hill, a man can.'  It is peaceful and still, familiar with seven years. 'It seems like a man can just about bear anything.  He can even bear what he never done.  He can even bear the thinking how some things is just more than he can bear.  He can even bear it that if he could just give down and cry, he wouldn't do it.  He can even bear it to not look back, even when he knows that looking back or not looking back wont do him any good."

~ ~ ~ 

"It was all coming down on her too fast.  There was too much reality that her hands and eyes could not deny, and too much that must be taken for granted that her hands and eyes could not prove; too much of the inexplicable that hands and eyes were asked too suddenly to accept and believe without proof.  After thirty years it must have been like a person in solitary blundering suddenly into a room full of strange people all talking at once, and she casting desperately about for anything that would hold sanity together by choosing some logical course of action which would be within her limitations, which she could have some assurance of being able to perform."~both quotes from Light in August by Wm Faulkner

* * * 

Lately I've thought that if a person who sat in front of me asked me how I was doing I'd collapse in front of them, tears flowing.  Likely I would.  We're so stoic.  Life sort of shatters without our permission, children wander off down the wide road, and we wring our hands.  Crushed.  Some days I feel as if I'm holding my breath.

Last night I asked Gary if when a person is involved in a decadent lifestyle they get full up with the weight of it.  He asked what I was driving at, and I said I was reaching for straws, wanting our boys to stop filling that God-shaped void with bad living.  My husband had his own issues as a young man, before I met him, so I knew he understood where I was going with it.  He said his own experience was that he knew when he'd reached a place where he had to make a change or suffer permanent consequences.  He added that he hoped our boys would feel the Spirit's absence before it was too late.

Amen.

Sunday

I really am stressed out.  It's a bit thick now.  So, to re-focus, I'm going to post at my other site of gratefulness, as a change of pace for awhile, and to give everyone a break from my personal tragic mindset.  At A Quartet of Things I focus on small things, and maybe that'll resettle my heart a bit.

Read this last night in Colleen Carroll Campbell's book My Sisters the Saints (excellent, by the way).  She's referring to infertility and waiting.  I deal with wayward boys and the waiting for their hearts to change.  Here's what she wrote:

"The waiting is the cross." (her mother told Colleen)

Maybe that was the truth I had overlooked all these years:  that the waiting, the not knowing, even the interior desolation and doubts---that was the suffering that Jesus wanted me to offer up to him.  Maybe the prayer Jesus wants in dark times is not one of petition or inquisition but one of simple surrender to the Father's will, the same prayer that Jesus himself offered from the cross.

I wanted to analyze and dissect my cross, to know how long I would have to carry it and how my carrying it would glorify God.  

Jesus, I realized, wanted none of this.  He did not need my supervision, and he was not asking me to understand my cross.  He was asking me to carry it.  He wanted me to wake up each morning, bend a knee on the cold wooden floor beside my bed, and offer that day's sufferings and joys for whatever purpose he wished to use them.  He wanted me to joyfully embrace my daily duties and leave the big picture to him---to do, in other words, what Mother Teresa (my note:  this chapter talks about her quite a bit) had done when facing much harsher trials than mine.

Like Colleen, I want answers.  I want the suffering to stop.  I want closure, but these situations with our boys might last many years.  Gulp.

I was burdened last night and into this morning with our oldest son.  Prayed last night, and felt worse.   Something wasn't right in his world.  I could feel it.  We've always been close this way, though he's unaware of it.  I got in touch with him today, he said he's fine.  As I told a friend, his idea of fine and mine are two totally different things.  Polar opposites.  We both said we loved one another (all my kids will do this, thankfully), and that was that, at least in his mind.  I told him I'd keep praying.  He knows.

Going out to pray again tonight.  Purge my soul.  Stay out there until I feel the burden lift.

Tuesday night

Rest.

A busy day taking oldest daughter to the ophthamologist after failed appointments with 3 different optometrists.  Now, she's finally getting the help she needs.  And today one son had all four of his wisdom teeth pulled.  I didn't sleep well, and figure it was anxiety over their busy lives.  This particular son moved out in February, and I miss not being able to fuss over him.  His significant other took him to his doctor's appointment.  And that's all I'll say about that.  He came over on Saturday with a Mother's Day gift for me (he keeps me supplied with Infusium hair conditioner) and visited for two hours.  Wonderful.  I have to weigh his lifestyle choices in such a way that I still show a deep love for him.  And I do.  I love him to bits.  That'll never change.  Gary's having a harder time.  He still adores this son, but he struggles more than I do with the homosexuality.  Why, I have no clue.  Maybe it's a mothering thing.

My goodness.  I cry at the drop of a hat.

Interesting, but fatigue can come over us in ways we don't expect.  Yes, I was concerned over their appointments, but when I stop a moment and think over my boys, the concern expands.  I involuntarily go down that path all the time.  Have to watch myself that I pay proper attention to the ones who I still manage here at home.

So, after this day, we rest tomorrow.  Mom is all fixed up as well.  We did her shopping and deep-cleaned her house in anticipation for one of my brothers to spend Thursday night with one of his sons.

I'll garden tomorrow, putter in the house, read more of the book on my Kindle, an Elizabeth von Arnim called The Pastor's Wife, that I'm enjoying very much.  Probably got it free at Girlebooks.com.  They have an excellent selection of older books to download, some free, and others for a very reasonable price.

Not going to tote any worries tomorrow.  Rest.  Just rest and restoration.