The countdown begins...

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

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

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

I'm done.

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

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

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

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

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

Week's end

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

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

And so it goes.

Monday morning

Woke up around 6:30am to take care of chickens and made my tea to have outside with them.  The city was just waking up, and traffic on our street hadn't taken hold yet.  Birds.  The last sounds of the crickets. Heavy dew on the grass.

Slowly the earth woke up.  Trafficky sounds.  Blue Jays squawking.  Lots of Sparrows, who come in droves to eat chicken feed.

It's a bit chilly today.  I wore my nightclothes out back and in a few minutes, after eating some bugs and such, Nora hopped up into my lap.  Snuggled down into my robe.  Milk followed a bit later.  Love watching their eyelids as they blink---backwards, with the main eyelid going up from the bottom, opposite of humans.  Their pupils dilate as they watch me watch them.

* * *

Wanting to take more charge this week.  Seems sometimes my life runs on its own speed, and I have little ability to manage it.  It manages me.  I've said this before, but it appears I tend to react to what's been placed in front of me, rather than initiating change.  I adapt probably way too well.  Have had to, first with so many children being born one after another, and also with our financial situation.  Figured I could either buck the situation or go with it.  Sort of weary of the flow, if you get what I mean.  Ready to change the river's route, so to speak.

You know, life has to be about making it work regardless of the messes.  I find that hard.  I want to have a re-do and clean up ahead of time the trials our children have forced on us.  To be warned beforehand that those delightful photos of the family when everyone was young and unlined were real, but now is real as well.  Not my favorite real, but nonetheless, it's my deck of cards.

Still, when I look at a blog of a mother holding fresh, young children I feel a catch in my throat.  I might always have that catch.  I want to tell that mom to hold onto that precious time with their young ones.  Relish it.  Breathe in the scent of that sweet neck.  Danger ahead.  You think it's hard waking up to a baby with a frighteningly high temperature---wait until they discover the world is bigger than you've shared.  They might like that big, dangerous world.  Well, we might never see the results of our hard prayers, but then again, it might happen.  Keep plugging along.  Be thankful for my tribe here.  For seeing Christ's work in my children at home.  See His work in their faces and their words.  I guess it's all a process.

But I only have to deal with today.  This moment is blessed.  Enjoy yours.

Tuesday morning

Yesterday I received an Interior Design book in the mail to review.  From the Apartment Therapy folks.  Beautiful.  Reminds me of my roots.  Degree in same subject way back in college.  Years previous to that filling notebooks with cutouts of rooms I adored, years since with gluing photos into journals, re-decorating our home, collecting magazines, etc.  Living in clutter.  My form of clutter.

Mothering has put certain things on the back burner.  I sort of admire women who can juggle children, and find time to do the things that inspire passion in them.  Privately think they were blessed with some sort of DNA I'm missing. I tend to have, pretty much, a one-track mind---oh, I can make dinner, read a book and answer the phone.  Simple tasks.  But things that require much mind work will demand a one-track mind.  Time set aside.

Segue.

I have a point, though.

Recently we were inundated with a fly invasion.  Had a problem of another sort in the crawl space under our house, and dealing with that led to the flies.  One day last week our kitchen window (thankfully closed) was full of flies.  Not pretty.  Actually, disgusting.  Anyway, now they're all gone (well, let's say they found a way out or are dead) and the previous problem is resolved as well.  Nature has a pretty cool way of managing, uh, nature.

So, second son who's still visiting is tall.  Like 6'-5".  This comes in handy when I can't raise the kitchen window.  I just couldn't get purchase on it.  No matter if I slung my leg up on the counter, used a screwdriver to wedge under the window handle or whatever.  I think it had swollen and just wouldn't budge.  Second son raised it and there were flies in all their glory inside the ledge.  Oldest daughter stood there for moral support, handed me the Mrs. Meyer's lavender spray while I cleaned out the window with a hand full of paper napkins.  Repeatedly.  After a minute or so of doing this, which didn't take long, she commented that it was restful to watch me clean it up.  Said it was calming.  Huh.  

Maybe I was deliberate.  I know I wasn't hurrying, just doing a task, but maybe I was actually doing it right.  Being mindful.  

That's the thing.  Paying attention to the little things.  Being present and not making a mad dash even at minor tasks.  

More and more I'm seeing folks with dazed expressions on their faces.  Engaging in conversations with people out in the world is getting more difficult.  The younger generation finding it more of a challenge to connect.  Reminds me of the Stepford Wives.  Cardboard cut-outs of humans.  I think we can thank too much technology for this tragic phenomena.  Begin to talk, get interrupted with those surreptitious peeks at the phone.  Won't abide it with my living-away-from-home children, but see it frequently at church.  And it's not just the younger folks.  A new regular (my age) visitor at our church has joined the choir and got privately reprimanded for playing Candy Crush during Communion.  Really?  Are we so addicted to the wrong behavior?

Connecting.  Engaging with life.  Stopping long enough to really pay attention.  Living your life.  Not allowing nonsense to overpower real life. 

So this flips back to my enjoyment of decorating, what I was trained to do, but which has gotten lost in the muddle of my middle years.  Now I appear to be waking up, taking life a bit more slowly and really, enjoying it more.  It just takes the time to take the time.  Dwell on that for a bit.

And enjoy your day.

Tuesday after Labor Day

School will have a late beginning this morning, but all is well.  Second son is asleep on the sofa in the living room---the pass-through room for the whole house.  We're being quiet.  A slow beginning to the day.  The pugs lay 'round about him, and even Romeo, the male dominant, is being sweet.  He's all slung out in front of the sofa---keeping guard.  They seemed to remember him when he came into the house yesterday morning, after we picked him up from the airport.  Four months is a long time, but apparently not long in a dog's mind.  Romeo has a short attention span, so this is miraculous.  The pugs are all about laps, so acceptance is easy for them.

This son went to Powell's bookstore in Portland, before they boarded the plane on Sunday night.  He bought me a used copy of Dark Night of the Soul by St. John of the Cross.  He knows my tendency to enjoy Catholic writing.  Said they had a huge section of it.  Amazing bookstore and yes, I'm jealous he got to go there.  A wonderland of books, I hear.

Right now, I'm still in bed, just enjoying the blessing of this son at home.  We've deeply missed him.  He's so sane and well-grounded in the Lord.  We can be ourselves when he's here.  He gets it.  All of it.

* * *

Really feeling this new week is the start of good things.  Fresh starts.  Cooler weather up ahead, even tomorrow.  Rain coming.  Less drama.  Quiet days.  Pumpkin candles.  Sweeping porches of fallen leaves.  Simmering stews.  Letters to be written.  Fall-ish things.  Anticipation.  I do love autumn.

The ability to exhale after so many months of frustration and ultra-busyness is amazing.  Now to watch the Lord begin His work of healing our spirits.

Enjoy your day.

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.

Saturday evening

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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

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 night

Have been paying attention to my negative physical reactions to certain things---things that stress me and such.  Some things will cause my heart to pound, or my breath to tighten up and be shallow.  I never knew before here lately, that I could identify things like that.  Learn what to avoid.  Amazing.  Have always allowed Life to just happen, and then I'd react either with or against it.

No more, or let's just say I'm working on it.

Sometimes it's a conversation with a neighbor or a child.  A news topic, or my mom's life.  And while I can't become a hermit and just disappear, which is an appealing, non-viable option at times, I can learn to manage in better ways.

* * *

I love the van.  So happy to say that.  The stains on the carpet came up and the outside washed a treat.  Now, I realize everyone won't understand our angst this week.  Put it up to a family (that would be us) who have been beat up enough and the smallest thing can send us into spasms.  Getting the van, spending money we didn't want to have to spend, troubles with the title....all frustrating.  Enough about that.

Tomorrow is Sunday, a fresh new day and week.  Yes.  We'll go the DMV on Monday morning to get the title situation straightened out and hope to get new tags.  And you know what I crave to experience in the midst of all of this?  To feel the Lord's presence so clearly right by my side, and to lean.  Just lean.

* * *

I'm reading to review Sarah Mae's newest book called Longing for Paris and she has a list of questions at the back.  Number one is: Are there any areas of your life that you don't feel you can trust God with fully?  And the fourth one is: What is your greatest fear in handing over every area of your life to Him?

Gulp.  That's my response.  Gulp.

You might have a handle on those sorts of questions, but I don't.  

Try this one.  Number fourteen is:  Do you have a dream or a longing in your soul?

I look at the questions, look at the ceiling and have no clue.  Absolutely no clue.  But I'm willing to think on it.  I will answer them, but it may take awhile.

(music to listen to on Spotify....Dan Bremnes' songs Born Again, Beautiful and Where the Light Is.  The CD is called Where the Light Is)

Saturday's thoughts

Dizzy and a bit breathless today.  Thinking I caught a bit of the cold the kids have shared between themselves.  Not a worry.  I was able to write to the church email list saying the least one couldn't acolyte tomorrow.  We'll just lay low.  Frankly feel a bit worn after the Supremes let us down yesterday.  Have to trust God on that one.

Got a couple of Dee Hardie's books that'd been on hold for me at the library.  If you ever read House Beautiful magazine years ago you might have read her regular pieces called View from Thornhill Farm.  Very, very comforting.  Worth a look-see if your library has them.  The ones I got are called Views from Thornhill and Hollyhocks, Lambs and other Passions.  I'm thinking the eighties, when these were written, was like no other decade. :)  That's when I got married and had three of our eight children.  Sweet times.  I miss that.

Cooler air blowing through today and tonight.  We'll be able to sleep in Sunday morning, which will be a nice treat.  Just coddle ourselves.  Really, the news is so emotionally exhausting to me just now, to huddle in our house, garden a bit and be quiet sounds very healing.  And necessary.

If you look for the moon tonight, you can see (and have been able to see in the western sky) Venus and Jupiter side-by-side, and Saturn will be tucked near the Moon.  Haven't been out to see, but will in a minute.  Time to quit.

Take care.  

Okay now then....smoothing skirt. Deep breath.

Opened up the comments again.  ::shivers::  Figured I might as well.  As our oldest son has said before, "Haters gonna hate."  And in her own way of giving advice to me, middle daughter said to limit my stuff here on my blog would be a way of giving in.  She's right.  You stand your ground, or give in to those who disagree.  And golly, I'm up for debates, but play nice.

If all I talked about here was decorating or cooking, this wouldn't be an issue, but I do feel relief in sharing what I'm experiencing as a mom and a believer.  Sometimes raunchy stuff.  I don't willingly go the dark side, but as you know, some of my offspring dwell there.

One son said it well.  As we were going at it last year, we came to a quiet understanding and he mentioned that we're all so passionate in this house.  While we're not into yelling, we do state our opinions forcibly and with enthusiasm.  You have to hold your own.  Not sure where I'd be if I'd married someone who was quiet and reserved.  Coming from my parents' house with verbal shunning, I was in need of someone who would let me speak my mind.  Exhausting, but refreshing at the same time.

So, I'm not a warm and fuzzy person, though I do enjoy cozy security.  And knowing where I stand with folks offers me that.  None of that pouting and polite reserve which only covers up a certain passive-aggressiveness.

Time to sit with the chickens.  

Today's mutterings

When I got up the second time this morning (after first getting up to let out the chickens at just after six), the phrase "If you don't like something, then change it" came into my head.  I've been so dissatisfied with myself for such a long time.  See, I'm a reactor.  I react to what's put up in front of me, not initiating, but responding to those I live with, or take care of.

When my mom says something upsetting, I react.  When the kids do/say something that goes against the way they were raised, I respond to that situation.  When Gary comes home upset from something that's happened at work, I react to that as well.  Rarely do I make the first move.  I'm the responder.

Do you know how much that becomes a habit?   And does what I'm saying even make any sense?

I was sitting out back late last night with Romeo, our dog who's not a Pug, and was praying.  The thoughts came to me, asking what I really had a passion for.  I've spent years and years taking care of others (a mother's purpose and lament at the same time), and have shoved aside my own desires.  Not anything big, but things that are personal.

And when we got hit with grand rebellion from some of the boys beginning just over two years ago, followed by my mom's stroke, I gave up on myself.  It just felt pointless.  My sons weren't interested in what Gary or I had to teach them, rejecting their upbringing, and my mom became such a burden (sorry, but it's a fact), and there's been little room to breathe.

Yesterday we were at her house, leaving her groceries, making her bed, etc., and she asked me if I'd made her doctor's appointment.  Dang it.  I'd not even thought of it after having Jury Duty, seeing Jacob off and all.  It had totally slipped my mind.  I had paid her bills yesterday, so was glad of that, but it bothered me that I'd forgotten about the doctor.  I told Gary later that I was just a

 suck egg daughter.  He said it wasn't like I didn't have things going on.  Perfect answer.  Yes, absolutely true.  Didn't help long-term, but it did help.  Life is full, even besides caring for my mom, who I have a bad attitude towards, most times.

The truth hurts, but it's a relief to express it.

I read a blog the other day written by a young woman who's had a very challenging year.  She talked about how she used to try to make everyone happy, putting aside her own needs/wants in order to keep the peace.  I so identify.  I've so squished down my own life, that I can hardly see me anymore.  I've disappeared a bit.  

And with my mom being of a narcissistic personality, even after a stroke, I have to stand firm if I don't want her to paralyze me.  She asks things of me she won't ask my brother who lives near.  I've said it before, but she will never ask anything of him that causes him to adjust his plans.  I realize she can't take herself to the doctor, this is just an example, but she'll never ask him.  I have the time, am always available, and my kids are grown to the place I can leave them.  He, on the other hand, lives alone, and is more able to change gears.  See my frustration?  It's the old male/female thing.  Her generation is more apt to lean on the women, mostly because they're used to it.  Men get to do their manly thing, uninterrupted by women's needs.  

Okay, so this is just a small example of my personal exasperation.  As I said in the first paragraph, "If you don't like something, then change it."  I need to love myself enough to lose the excess weight that's been bugging me.  To adjust my eating habits, to care enough, to make the change.  To not run to food when life hurts.  See where I'm going with this?  When I begin to respect myself once again, learn to say no, and stand up to life in general, I think results will follow.

Done with my diatribe.  The trick will be daily.  To not make sweeping changes that I promise myself of for months and months.  Just today.  

Mothering Days

Okay, so it's easy to get caught up in the excitement of a child's adventure, but when you get outside with chickens in your lap, all alone with nobody around, the tears begin to come.  Not much, but a bit.  Maybe a tiny let down after Jury Duty, which launched directly into Jacob's move.

It's alright, though.  Just another thing to adjust to.  I find my life to be a bit of a trial, but it's mine and I'll manage.

Jacob's making good traveling time.  Last we heard, they were finally in Texas after driving across Arkansas and Oklahoma.  I think Amarillo is the goal for tonight, unless he channels his dad and goes as far as his mind will take him, regardless of the hours spent in the car.  Madness.

  * * *

As soon as I wrote the previous paragraph, Jacob texted that they'd reached New Mexico.  Said they'd stop in a bit.  Yeah, I know you want a travelogue. :)

Having to change our evening routine. We're used to this son stopping by the house on his way to his apartment after work.  He's cooked/grilled at a local restaurant for five years, three of them with him not at home, but at an apartment.  He'd eat dinner here, usually at about 11:30pm.  We've stayed up late for years, waiting for him and in previous months for him and his now-married-brother who also worked at the restaurant.  Late nights.  Can honestly say I won't miss that, but will miss his sweet face.  He'd come by because he's a people person, and has said that we ground him.  I cherish that comment.  With misbehaving boys, to hear from one who wants to behave, those words are a gift.

Back and forth.  The emotions will drive a mom nuts.  But it's all good.  Even Gary has a gobsmacked look on his face.  Said tonight something about how we've sent one more on his way.  Yes, but this one is paying attention.

Wednesday evening

House bulging with things from moving-to-California son's apartment.  Odd to look at a laundry basket full of his flour, sugar, pot holders, coffee, rice (so much rice we have now---I have no idea why), and other things. Oh, and a small container of bread starter---homemade.  Love that.  An extra small air conditioner, lamps, coffee maker, dishes, books, a futon, and personal stuff.  Chin up, Buttercup.  Hard to not think of missing him, but part of me is so excited at what he's leaving to do.  He's incredibly excited, and I know he's longing to be on the road and on his way. 

He'll leave at about 7:30am tomorrow morning, then will pick up his traveling buddy.  His return date is possibly in late October or early November.  Maybe.  What he's really thinking of is being offered the job of replacing the main chef who's stepping down next year.  Oh my.  In my heart, I hope he doesn't settle in California, but he's the Lord's, not mine.  Must remember that.

In other news, put seven books up for sale online, sold two within an hour and another this morning.  I'd sold books before, but it'd been awhile.  Nice to have some extra change, with little effort.

Tomorrow I'm going to work in the front yard, digging in the small area youngest son got ready for me.  I have some seeds, and need to keep busy.  I'll likely get lots accomplished until second son arrives at his destination on Saturday or Sunday.

Mothering will keep a person on her toes like nothing else.  My children seem to be all over the map in terms of their behavior, and I'm thankful for every last one of them.  The children who lean on the Lord, however, are a special joy.  The burden of praying for them makes my heart light since I know their desire is for His will.  In that my yoke is easy.

Prayers for safe travel for Jacob and his friend, Steve, appreciated. :)

After Jury Duty

So, Dotsie was absolutely right.  Being on Jury Duty was exactly the change I needed.  Refocused everything, just getting away from home and being in a totally foreign atmosphere.

Turns out I was selected for a sequestered jury, and had to pack Monday night and be back at court early on Tuesday.  It was an attempted murder case, gang members involved, drug dealers, and was a real eye-opener.  Real life.  Not like t.v. and we were warned of that by the attorneys.  It's much more raw.  Folks are so messed up.

I'd prayed back when I was called in with the huge group of folks back in January to select days to serve.  It was clear that the week of April 20th was the right time.  And it was.  And even when we went into the jury room to deliberate, we prayed.  Joined hands.  Amazing.  God was there in the spirits of so many of the jurors.  Maybe all.  And I've made some forever friends.  Lock up 14 people (two alternates leave at the end) for hours on end, and you make connections.

And we were taken to a hotel across town to avoid any gang issues.  Imagine.  And five sheriff's deputies stayed with us the entire time.  Walked us to the public bathrooms when we went to dinner, and even stayed up all night in the hallway at the hotel, spelling one another in 2 hour intervals.  Way out of my comfort zone.  Never felt safer.

* * *

When the prosecutors and defense attorney gave their final arguments they were right in front of us and it was all I could do to not cry.  It was all so real.  And the family members of the young man on trial were in the crowd, along with 'what-appeared-to-be' young men who could have been trouble.  When we were able to leave the building after the verdict was given and get our rides, we were allowed to stay inside until the last minute, and were told the family members, etc. had already left.  Still, made me nervous.  Looking over your shoulder.  

The amusing (but not at the time) part of the whole situation came on Wednesday.  One man in his sixties was on the jury.  He was bi-polar, obviously medicated, but didn't have a filter on his mouth.  He professed to be a believer, would pull out a pocket New Testament and read to himself every so often, but even more often he'd launch into stories and jokes that weren't always appropriate.  He had a definite problem.  On Wednesday afternoon, after we'd been taken for a brief walk and were back inside, I'd had enough and as we listened to him tell a personal story involving very inappropriate dialogue, I turned to him at the table, and said, "Hey, will you be quiet?"  He didn't and I said, "Hey, you need to SHUT UP."  Silence.  The rest of the time we had to spend together, he'd give me these glances, and when he thought I wasn't listening, he'd talk about 'that woman.'  The man had issues.  Thankfully he was chosen as an alternate and had to leave before we deliberated.  God's hand again.

Some might think my outburst was over the top.  None of the other jurors did, though. :)  The thing is, I'm tired of folks, especially Christians, taking the silent road---not getting involved.  Each woman on that jury had been embarrassed by this man's speech.  None of the men addressed the problem.  What to do?  Continue to allow the disrespect, or deal with it.  I'm tired of accepting unacceptable behavior.  In my family and in the world.  It was time to say so.

Wouldn't change a thing.  

Friday night

Gary got a call from his dad tonight while some of the kids were with me shopping for the least one's birthday (which is Sunday).  My mother-in-law is in the hospital after complaining of a sore neck for a couple of days.  Went out of it at home, red-faced, eyes not focusing, incoherent, and her b/p went to zero then flew up to an upper number of 200.  We're in a wait-and-see mode.  They're up in Maryland, so have to wait to hear.  My father-in-law could use prayer too.  His health is good, but it's lots to deal with.  I'm thinking it sounds like meningitis, but that's just a guess on my part.  Flying by the seat of my pants, most days.

Husband participating in a crafts fair tomorrow near our church.  Praying for much success.  The homeowners offer their front yards for artists and crafts people to set up their wares.  He has a couple of game tables, bowls, spoons, mirrors, framed photographs and benches.  Lots of stuff.  And oldest daughter has earrings to sell as well, which are beautiful.  

Life is overfull.  Have to turn off my head.

Sat out with the chickens twice today.  After half an hour of holding a chicken, my b/p arrives at a sweet spot, I'm thinking.  Milk and Nora nestled in my lap, Nora snuggling under my chin.  Imagine.  A chicken.  Isn't that awesome?  And they're so soft.  I caught Madelyn later on and held her.  She tends to be wicked, following Nora around and trying to peck her feet.  A streak of meanness in her, that's for sure.  

Anyway, that's my weekend.  It's enough.

Thoughts on slowing down

In looking at books to review, I'm seeing a trend that bothers me. Seems that the generation that covers my oldest children---late twenties and into the thirties (my oldest is 29), is so success-oriented, maybe to a fault.  Perhaps even more so than their parents.  And in Christians it appears to be almost an obsession, just like in the secular world.  Do this, this and this and your life will be complete.  The thing is, they're not allowing for the human touch.  I'm seeing a tendency to handle things in a technical way, much in the manner of managing a Smartphone.  Push the right buttons and voila, you're good.

Life isn't that easily managed.

And God isn't that predictable.  Quite the contrary.

I have a brother-in-law who used to say that if you tithe every week, then your money troubles will be a thing of the past.  I'm here to tell you that's not the case.  As I've said before---God is NOT a slot machine.  You don't do this, this and this and expect what you want to happen. Sometimes it doesn't. And doing it over and changing the routine won't fix it.  Only the Lord can do that.  Act as if you have all the answers and He'll be sure to mix you up.  Speaking from experience here.  Cockiness has no place in the Christian experience.

I think God enjoys seeing a humble spirit.  But even then, apply yourself to being humble and that in itself shows arrogance.  Look at me....oh, no-no.  Don't look at me.  See what I mean?  By not focusing in a deliberate manner, you look at yourself much too much.

It's frustrating to see all the energy being spent in advancement.  Nobody has time for quiet. They're so busy getting ahead.  Goals.  So many goals.  Burnout looms on the horizon.  We've become such suckers for a fast fix, whether it's getting impatient waiting for packages to come in the mail, or being put on hold.  Oh wait.  There's a remedy for that.  I can talk to a couple of folks at once, and text in the same instant.  Nobody waits.  But think again.  Nobody gets anyone's full attention anymore.

Go to a public setting where folks sit.  Restaurants are choice for this experiment.  Watch how many are on their phones and not talking.  You know what I mean.  We can't wait for anything.  Everything is more important than the life in front of us.  So sad.

Just listen.  Wait.  Stop trying so hard.  Quit trying to know everything.  Allow for a little mystery. Please.

Friday morning

Since oldest daughter and I are going to Oxford tomorrow, I picked up some Faulkner at the library yesterday. Began reading a book of his short stories, and oh my goodness.  He's got a trilogy about the Snopes family, and the first piece in the book is a short story from that series.  Reminded me of Flannery O'Connor, who I tend to not read, being that she, pretty much, spells it all out for you. Wicked characters, awful intentions, the whole gamut of folks-you-don't-want-to-know in every story she writes.  This story brought her to mind.

Faulkner has a gift for shoving you into his stories.  After a few sentences, You Are There.  I was mesmerized.  Read three of them, put the book down and felt sated.  Couldn't take anymore. Sort of in a state of shock.  I read a lot.  A lot.  And told Gary after that there are some authors who have such a strong gift for words, and Faulkner is definitely one of those people.  And Southern writers---I don't know.  They're in a category all their own.  The extremes are more extreme, and the personalities are more peculiar.  We blame it on the humidity.

And speaking of authors who aren't Southern---I got some Virginia Woolf as well.  For some odd reason, they remind me of one another. You have to apply yourself to read each of them, least I do. So much literature that's cranked out today is lame.  Canned plots and not much to tantalize or shock the reader.  I don't want horror or heartache, but a story that grips me, that fills me up.  So many times I can see the ending before it arrives.  With Faulkner, that doesn't seem to happen.  He comes up from behind you.

In other books, reading The Screwtape Letters aloud to the three youngest during the week.  Just got to the part where Screwtape tells Wormwood about how Christians are more usable to God when He puts them through tough times and they remain faithful.  He talks about how those believers are the hardest to sway.  A book that has some difficult sentences to decipher, but the truth really does shine through.  Lewis was something.

Anyway, a fresh day spreads out ahead of me.  Just me and the girls at home.  Had a storm overnight, and the garden is all damp and cool. Might weed a bit, but don't feel much pressure about it.  Might putter around the house.  White beans for dinner.  Will throw in some bacon and onion.  Made flour tortillas for dinner last night, and that might happen too.  Mine ended up like naan, which was my intention, anyhow.

Three cups of flour, one teaspoon each of salt and baking powder, 1/3 cup of oil (I used butter-flavored Crisco---didn't even melt it beforehand), one cup water.  Blend together in mixer.  Let sit for about 15 minutes (didn't happen).  Form into pancake shapes, put on hot, greased griddle and cook for about a minute on each side.  So easy. Wonderful texture.

Will go get dressed now.  Praying for our kids, and protection for all. For the Lord to put people in their paths who speak truth and live for Christ. For the Lord to show favor on Gary's shop.  He's got repair work coming in, and while I don't want to complain, more would be nice. Hard to keep your head above water when it stays just below your nose. Life is too full of prayer needs, but maybe that's as it should be.  I get to praying and it just goes on and on.

Enjoy the day.

Monday night

I've had prayers before where I ask God why He's allowing such suffering on our parts.  Why not have the hard bits when our health is peachy, when we have extra cash and don't feel so depleted.  So, He says to me, "It's easy to be faithful when life is tidy.  The challenge is to stand firm when everything's stacked up against you.  That's faith.  To see trouble in your life, but to trust in what you can't see."

I'm a slow learner.  

In our faith walk, it seems we go through the same steps every time.  Bewildered acceptance, confusion, anger, surrender, then the real faith steps in.  This is our experience.  Again and again.  After awhile I'm not mad, but sort of like throw up my hands and say, "Whatever!"  His will.  Not having much of a success rate with my will.  My track record is pretty lousy there. :)

Manna everyday, but bill money only trickles in.  And I say, "Lord, You know when this is due.  You know when it's overdue."  He smiles (in my head) and says to just trust Him.  The smile gets me every time. I get bogged down on the calender, and He tells me that there's a bigger lesson being learned.  He's not a monster, but does have a point.  Maybe the point is that He's not mean, but teaching me to not be fearful.

~ ~ ~

Migraine this morning.  One of those that makes you want to hold onto the top of your head so it won't fall off.  BC Powders are magical.  Took a second one about 1/2 an hour ago.  Blowing off some stress, I'm sure.  Migraines are sort of like volcanoes or earthquakes to me.  From time to time, I just need one to come along.  The smoke in my brain has to go somewheres.

Love my husband.  When the shop is slow, it's hard for him to bear up.  We're both resolved at this time that it'll be fine.  We've been reassured by a fleece (God instructed) that we're in the right place.  Fidgety, but good.

More rest

Woke up earlier than usual this morning.  Stayed in bed 'til six, then heard the Voice in my head tell me to go outside.  The sun was beginning to make the sky light, but the chickens still slept.  As soon as I opened the back door, though, the sounds of the birds along with traffic on the main drag a few streets north of us hit me.  Loud.  And we'd slept with the window open.  I'd not known how loud it'd be.  My goodness.  Usually when I let the chickens out I'm not interested in experiencing nature.  Just get 'er done.  

Took a blanket out with me and sat in the cherry Adirondack chair Gary'd made.  Looked up and watched the stars fade away.  Wished I'd gotten out there about half an hour earlier.  I love the moment when the sky is black and it slowly turns blue.  Saw a hawk in the next door neighbor's tree---way, way up.  Heard the local owl across the street, hooting before going to sleep.  The little birds raided the chicken feed that'd gotten knocked out of their dish the night before.  Safe in the backyard.

Stayed out long enough to see the sun rise far enough to slip into the chicken coop.  They kerflumped off of their roost, and began making noise.  Let them out, fed them, and went back inside.  Got into bed, reset the alarm and got up again at just before ten.  It was enough.

* * *

I'm realizing the dear importance of taking time, and slowing down.  Those aren't really the same thing.  You can take time to do things, but run through them.  Sort of defeats the purpose.  I'm being more deliberate.  I feel fragile.  But I like it.

The Lord told me last week that this period would be a blessing to me.  That the need for me to stop was necessary so I'd not self-destruct.  I know that's true.  

Sitting for about half an hour with chickens everyday when it's not raining.  Milk hops up, and now Nora is a regular lap-sitter as well.  Two hens all cozied up in my lap.  Heaven.  

I can't really explain to my husband what's going on.  He's a fixer and while he tries to understand, it's enough for him that I'm not running around like mad.  My temper is settled, and I'm not so quick to lose my cool.  I've been like a live wire for so long.  Now I'm not.  I pay a price for that now that's not a good exchange.  

My advice.  When you feel like you're losing control on a regular basis, make changes.  Two women at church are 'doers'....they have a strong servant's heart going on, both of them.  I was sharing with one of them on Sunday and she had a glazed look on her face.  Told me about a girl who had to leave church (I mentioned a bit ago), who had Adrenal Failure.  Sounds serious.  But this friend couldn't see where she was headed herself.  We're not machines.  And I don't think the Lord would have us live like it.

Rest well.