Thoughts on Sunday afternoon

Might be quiet around here at the blog this week. Need to get back to normal at our house, and concentrating on what's in front of my face would be wise. Cleaned up some messes this morning and got the house back to some sense of tidy. With life being a bit off kilter and one son at my mom's overnight, we stayed in from church, and not sure if that was the best choice or not. But it was the choice we picked, so no looking back.

Hard to know what to do, and I've felt so scattered that my brain has been on pause.

Have decided, though, that my mom needs to be in a position of doing more for herself. Again, not sure if that's wise either, but she's weak from staying down, afraid of falling, but you can't live that way, you know? Like her electric blanket. She broke her arm from tripping over the cord, which was sticking out from under her bed. Now she's afraid to use it. I told her we can snake the cord to where the sun don't shine, but I'm not persuasive enough. Also said that if you had a car accident, you'd not avoid going anywhere in a car. This is no different.

You tell her. Apparently I don't have the knack of being very convincing. I've lived my whole life under the curse of fear, whether justified or imagined. Gradually it's becoming clear to me where that originated.

Now. Will go be a wife and mother. The daughter stint is on hold for a couple of hours.

And am I being feisty? Why, yes.

Saturday's end

Spent last night at my mom's with middle daughter (who's 12) and was gratefully to get mom into the shower, get her hair washed and also to roll it. The silliness slipped in when I was rolling her hair and had dumped the plastic rollers out on the kitchen table. There had to be about 30 rollers in that bag, and I don't think I'm exaggerating. Anyway, I got to rolling it and after about 12 rollers, asked her how many she usually put in. She said that she generally used all of them. Imagine my horror in seeing that I was almost done and had used about 15. Thankfully she was just glad to be clean and shiny and the quality of my hair rolling wasn't an issue. Still, it was nice and poofy when it was all said and done!

One of the boys is there tonight, and we're slowly weaning her from needing someone at her house all the time. She's been alone the past 2 afternoons. It's maddening, though, how weak her right hand is even though that's not the arm that's in the splint/sling. She's just not very strong, anyway. We're going to have to figure out ways to get food set aside for her that's manageable. Told the kids that we need a meat or vegetable-flavored PopTart that she can put into the toaster. Don't think that there is such a thing, though. A great marketing idea, I'm thinking, and I'm only partly kidding.

Not sure what tomorrow holds, but glad to be here at home tonight. Have juggled our schedules enough to drive anyone nuts, but it's necessary and the kids are very willing. Having us split up is a strain, however, with the little girls a bit off kilter at either me or their older sister hither and yon. And we're avoiding Gary or me being out of the house one right after the other. It's so sweet when the kids tell me that he's like a lost puppy when I'm gone overnight. And likewise is true as well. One night in a row is enough of that, so I guess that shows we're still smitten.

Well, today's good and I don't have to figure out the rest of the weekend yet. Time to rest, and after only 5 or so hours of sleep, I think it's overdue.

Blessings

"O Father, help us to know that the hiding of Thy face is wise love. Thy love is not fond, doting and reasonless. Thy bairns must often have the frosty cold side of the hill, and set down both their bare feet amongst the thorns. Thy love hath eyes, and in the meantime is looking on. Our pride must have winter weather."~George MacDonald (from Elizabeth Goudge's 'A Diary of Prayer')

This quote was from the devotion from yesterday and is spot on to our situation. I never understand the times when we pray and God is silent. Or maybe I'm too hasty to think that He's not aware. I see the practical side of our needs, and He has more in store. It's really never about a paycheck or even more mundane things, but is always about our relationship to Him. I'm often blind to that. I want results, and in return I get guidance and (hopefully) growth. But I'm not always so willing.

So many times I get horsey with God (but in a mild way) and frown about how my prayers aren't being answered. I'll shake my head about how the bills have to be paid, and why doesn't He do something about it. Then I'll feel ashamed at my attitude and ask forgiveness, but always after I've had my rant, and not during.

Then, the Lord sends a breath of His Spirit that lets me know that He's still there, even though seemingly a background figure. But He IS there. And He's done that today...given a breath. And you know, that's all I needed. Won't go into detail, but I so needed that blessing. We all did. A bookmark on my soul to let me remember that He's listening. Makes my eyes prickle.

On a sunny Thursday

In bed with the laptop, a pile of library books at my side. I'll leave to pick up kids directly, and oldest daughter is doing grandmother duty tonight, so I can be at home. The least one slept with me last night with Gary over at my mom's. I slept fitfully, but sweetly, as I felt her gradually roll over to my side of the bed until this morning she was tickled to be almost on top of me. Such an angel. She's been feeling momma withdrawal with me running back and forth and seeming distracted.

Today I've had some time to myself, and washed some machine-made lace pieces in Mrs. Meyer's lavender cleaner. Will put a tablecloth-sized piece on the dining room table before dinner, and since it's not an old family bit of lace, won't fret if it gets messed up. There's more where this came from.

Many things hammering at my head, namely my mom, but also needing work in the shop. A dry spell alongside new routines is difficult at best. Still praying that the lady who made noises about Gary's chairs will be inspired to take them home. This week would be nice for that.

And trying to listen to God's quiet voice when I don't understand the manner of how He does things. I scratch my head a lot. Good thing I've got an abundance of hair, or it'd be piled up in my lap.

Take care.

Late Wednesday afternoon

Feeling like my head's gonna explode. Too much to do, my goodness. My brain is whirling at an extraordinarily unaccustomed speed, and I'm being challenged over and above what's normal for me.

After many errands this afternoon, which I could NOT have accomplished without assorted children's help, I'm now in bed with a cup of hot Lady Grey while meat simmers for tacos (oldest daughter's contribution for dinner). Husband is staying with my mom tonight, and the rest of us are home, except for 2 boys who are working.

I know there are women out there who can *do* all of the time and appear to be tough and able. I just don't happen to be one of them. I have to have daily naps. Will likely be the help overnight tomorrow for my mom and am trying to man up to the task. Don't know why I'm having such a hard time, but I am. And it's not like I'm physically challenged, but it's more in my head. Will try to chill and avoid the exploding factor. Must look after myself.

So, while I debate whether to buy the latest issue of 'Victoria' or 'Romantic Homes' with my bit of fun money, will look at 'Matchbook Magazine' online. Looks good. :)

Good book for a rainy day

About to rotate the kids at my mom's house, but wanted to pop in here with my thoughts first. Reading a wonderful book by River Jordan, and I can honestly say that it's one of the best I've read in ages. Perfect for where my head is now, though not really sure why. It's called "The Messenger of Magnolia Street", and could be considered Christian fiction in my mind (though not advertised in that way), but the spirituality is light and not what you'd expect. I have sticky notes tucked all through my library copy, and will jot down the quotes that jumped out at me when I get a minute. I will say this about the book...it takes place in the South, and she nails the dialogue right on the money. Folks don't sound like hicks and we can use the word *ain't* without being labeled hillbillies. Least not to each other. Not sure what anyone else would say. Anyway, I have about 20 pages left in the book, and will be sad to put it down. The highest praise I can give.

Anyway, as I said, it's my day to ferry kids to my mom's house, and one of the boys spent last night, and another one will do likewise tonight. Bless 'em, they're holding me up and keeping me from sinking. Gary reminded me on the phone just now, though, that we have to watch how we deal with this situation, and not put too much on them. They're willing, but are also easily hurt. Even oldest daughter is recovering today from too much stress from the weekend and the trauma of my mom's fall in particular.

One day. And just this very minute.

Us common folk

"Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery for noble purposes and some for common use?"~Romans 9:21

My husband was saying the other day something about being content to be a chamberpot. He was frustrated at his business just limping along at times, and his desire to be better at his woodworking skills (though I can vouch for the fact that he's darn good at what he does---he just doesn't see it). And wanting to be able to do more for us, but being limited in a financial way with that. It's hard to be the main bread winner of a family of ten, regardless of half of the kids having full-time jobs. The balance of the responsibility continues to be on his shoulders, yet our children are extremely generous at the same time.

But he says honestly that he's learning to be a chamberpot and not a vase (he pronounces it vahz). Don't get me wrong, he'd like to be more successful, but we're realizing that that's not where the Lord has placed us. We're bread and butter and not pastry. Cotton and not linen. We're not fancy.

But sometimes, just sometimes, it'd be a treat for life to manage us a bit gentler. Often enough we run into folks who are very happy to treat us like chamberpots. We get the 'below the stairs' treatment. And I guess that's okay, 'cause if the Lord sees fit to place us where He wants us, then we need to make sure we settle into it.

Being humbled isn't always comfortable, but necessary, I guess. And grumbling needs to be kept at a minimum.