'Home Behind the Sun' by Timothy Willard and Jason Locy

"It is the act of chasing brilliance that keeps hope alive within our hearts.  And that chasing act produces an expectation of belief--though the shadows lengthen and at times overwhelm, the brilliance is not far away."

Excellent book.  I have to say that Home Behind the Sun is one of the best books I've read this year.  I feel rejuvenated. Timothy Willard and Jason Locy have written a very honest book that's all about our Creator and His love for us, and His desire for us to be filled with wonder.  And with their gorgeous use of words they encourage us to approach the Lord as our children are still able to do, in their innocence.  The older I get, the harder that's become, but I can still try.

Both writers share extensive examples of how they're looking to fall in love with God again.  To see Him in all the varied experiences we travel through on a given day.  And they're not all pretty situations, but they also tell of hard times that try a person's faith.  The thing is, we should still be able to find the magic.

Life was never intended to be ordinary.  I mean really, if we would look at each day as if it's the first time we've seen it, how would it appear?  This is how Tim and Jason gifted me, and I read this book at just the time I needed it.  I was craving the joy, but didn't know where to look.

More information can be found here.

(i received this book free to review from thomas nelson/booklook bloggers)

Mental melt-down (not really)

Reading George Eliot's Middlemarch, which I've owned for ages and ages.  Just a thick old paperback that's developed faded pages on the shelf.  I remember...get this, I remember Joan Rivers daughter, Melissa, saying once that Middlemarch was her favorite book.  Why that would stick with me is ridiculous.  Now, I didn't buy it 'oh so long ago' for that reason, but I always wanted to read it.  Just never did.  Wonder if Melissa Rivers would still stand by what she said then?

Anyway, I have a book soon to arrive to review called My Life in Middlemarch, and figured it'd be wise to know what the author was talking about.  And I'll just say, I really am enjoying it.  Rich sentences, and so unlike what's written present day.  We're so lame today.  Don't sit still long enough to create a string of words that have any value beyond the moment.  Nothing is lasting. Well, rarely it's lasting.  My greatest love in literature is late 1800's, with the Brontes being at the top of the list.  Jane Eyre at the VERY top.  Adore the clothes, and lifestyle, and the literature is breath-taking.  Sentences you have to move around in your mouth to enjoy. Glorious.

::segue::

"Woe to those who quarrel with their Maker, those who are nothing but potsherds among the potsherds on the ground. Does the clay say to the potter, 'Yet you, LORD, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand.'"~Isaiah 45:9

"Yet you, LORD, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand."~Isaiah 64:8

Gary's been reading in Isaiah, hence the verse up above.  We got to talking outside the other night about God's will and our tendency to try to manage things.  And as for me, I tend to try to figure out what needs to happen to an extreme.  Probably a mom thing.  I'm always mentally running ahead....like knowing what's for dinner, do we have supplies in the house, where is everyone going today, who will be here for dinner, is there enough dog food, etc.  All the time there's a mental dialogue going on in my head.  Never a quiet moment.

But when you get into your thinking that we really are the God-made pottery, with very little control, well....the whole idea of a playing field involving us and the Lord changes.  And with this financial situation lengthening, I'm forced to search for God's face even more.  That's the name of the game anyhow, though, isn't it?  Not about us.  All about Him.

Here's the deal for me.  Maybe you're way ahead of me in this.  Maybe I'm the only one.  Here goes....we hear all the time of preachers talking about free will.  I hear that, but not so sure I buy it all the way.  Now, I'm an Anglican, but spent most of my adult years in the Reformed Presbyterian church.  Totally believe in God's irresistible Grace, meaning He touches you and marks you as His own and you can't turn away from that no matter how hard you try.  I don't buy the Anglican's teaching of salvation occurring at infant baptism, though I do believe it can be and should be a spiritual experience.

Okay.  So I'm His.  I'm really His.  All of me.  But as I've grown older and more tired, it's been my habit to take bits of me back from His hands.  I have a really hard time believing He wants to manage all of it.  Here in America we praise folks who are entrepreneurs, who come up with self-sufficient ways to manage their lives, the creative ones.  The rich ones especially.

I've gotten into the place now where I'm not sure I'm supposed to be in charge AT ALL.  Huh.  At all.  For me to let go of everything is hard.  The house, my marriage, my attachment to our children and my sometimes-not-so-subtle desire to control their choices, our finances, my health.  I could go on and on.

I'm reminded of a show on the Food Network where contestants make dishes and have a timer and have to walk away at a particular moment.  They throw up their hands.  I'm throwing up my hands. Not sure anything amazing will happen, but it's the right thing to do.

Yeah.  Sort of repeating myself.  I'm working this out in my head, blogging it, talking about it, praying about it, and maybe I'll see some differences in how my life pans out.  Maybe. :)

Good news and deep cleaning

Work is now in the shop for which we're thankful.  More please. :)  Hoping and praying it's the beginning of a pattern.  A small start, but all good.

Spring (summer?) cleaning.  Throwing out, putting away dishes, much heavy dusting, washing/ironing curtains, washing windows.  Re-arranging furniture.

The prospect of Nat'l Guard boy bringing his girlfriend to dinner.  Hence cleaning.  Not sure when she'll be here, but I feel more pressure to tidy for a female than for oldest daughter's sweet Indian boyfriend, who just overlooks most things.  He's very laid back.

I asked our son how serious he was about this girl and says he doesn't see the sense in wasting time if he's not serious.  Oh my.  Not sure I'm prepared for another child's romance.  Had lunch with the two of them on Monday.  Sweet visit, but some concerns---some large, some not so large. Much prayer needed.  Mostly focusing on the aspect of them being unequally yoked.  Not a good basis for a grounded relationship, I'm thinking.  Not sure our son is convinced of it being of the utmost in importance.  More prayer.  He says she's 'close' to releasing her will to the Lord. She leans more to an intellectual's viewpoint, and is very well educated...already has her Master's and is working on her PhD.  I think she's got more book learning than all of us all rolled up together.  We lean more toward street smarts in our household.  Whatever.

Tomorrow will finish up more cleaning.  So enjoyed today's work.  It felt good to be busy and see evidence of it at the end of the day.  Not sure those who worked and weren't here could see much had been done, but those of us who plowed away sure did. :)

Grace, but longing for Mercy

~painting by lilian westcott hale

Oldest daughter just came in from having a date-night with her sweet Indian boyfriend.  They'd gone to an Italian restaurant east of here that's in an old house. They've been there several times, always enjoy it and she said that Gary and I ought to go there sometime. He and I were able to laugh at the same time.  That we were able to laugh was an improvement.  He told her we were under house arrest.  Seriously.  God is silent. Will we ever go out to eat again?!??!  Gary's getting tiny nibbles at the shop.  Or maybe I should say that his phone rings, but nobody follows through. It rang several times yesterday.  But that was yesterday.  Tithed?  Yes.  But you know, just tithing isn't enough.  If it was, then we'd have a slot machine God.  No thanks.  I'm more into the intimate relationship.  On our knees.  Absolutely.  Well, figuratively.  We both have shot knees. :)

Faith when it's tough is simply that.  Tough.  But if God says it's what He wants, then who am I to fuss?  And no, I don't always believe that.  Easy to say, hard to practice.  I do rail at times, but cautiously.  I don't think the Lord minds when I express myself to Him.  He knows I get rowdy and fed up.  He made me this way.

"Through Jesus, therefore, let us continually offer to God a sacrifice of praise--the fruit of lips that openly profess His name."~ Hebrews 13:15

For me, to praise God Almighty when I don't have money to pay the bills.  When we're getting creative with feeding the chickens, and the milk jug gets close to empty.  When less gets to the point of being okay.  Do you hear me?  When I can praise God when I ain't got nothing.  And nothing for us is nothing.  Not the couple of hundred dollars in savings.  Savings?  When we have no idea how to pay the house note.  When we're slowly realizing how much we depend on our Father.  When He allows our supplies to dwindle.  Less of us and more of Him.  But we always eat. Always.

To me the sacrifice of praise is giving thanks for when I can't see what might happen....and even to thanking God when nothing happens.  That's a challenge.  It takes some time to get to that place. I don't have it mastered (and sometimes don't get there), but really, with the past few weeks being so darn hard, I can honestly say that I'm almost okay with that.  Huh.  Go figure. Check back this time tomorrow to see how I'm fairing.  My mood might fluctuate.  I feel strong this very minute, but don't hold your breath.

A few days ago, I neared blasphemy with doubting the existence of a God who cares.  I gnashed my teeth, cried and got angry.  Then it passed.  Came again.  Passed.

He does exist.  He cares.  He allows junk to happen so that He is glorified when He carries us, and when it's tough and then later on when He brings on the answers.  This very minute I believe that, and I'm going to hang on.  Hope it sticks.

'A Table by the Window' by Hillary Manton Lodge

A Table by the Window centers around the life of French/Italian (though born in America) Juliette D'Alisa.  She's a food writer, also a culinary school graduate with restaurant life in her blood. Her grandmother had a patisserie, her parents run a restaurant, and soon into the book she's invited by her brother to start yet another one.

I really enjoyed her writing style which was laid-back, and I enjoyed seeing that she added the recipes that are mentioned in the story.  Also, since the main love interest lived in Memphis, I pricked up my ears.  Reading about my hometown was a treat, and Lodge hit on Memphis spot on.  No fake accents, and no making fun of the Southerners.  We get that all the time! Made me wonder if either she or someone close to her lived here.  It's easy to poorly portray characters from varied parts of the country, and it's refreshing to see it done well.

There was lots going on, and honestly, she tells the story of Juliette so well, I'm thinking this will be a book I'll remember.  I read a lot and often as soon as I finish a book, unless it has something pretty good going for it, I forget the main thread. This one isn't like that.  It's light, yes, but solid enough to stay with you.  There's a mystery involving her French-born grandmother, some hidden genetics going on, a serious illness, a long-distance romance, beautiful food descriptions and a story of faith that holds it all together.  Plus, the end of the book contains a few pages of the sequel.

Many thanks to Hillary Manton Lodge for writing what I wanted to read.  No drama that was so overbearing that I got edgy, but just enough to intrigue me.  Well done.  Very well done.

(i received this book to review from waterbrook/multnomah)

Friday night

• going to honor oldest daughter's prayer for me tonight and simply enjoy the weekend
• it's father's day besides
• my dad passed away 21 years ago, but we'll give gary a sweet day on sunday
• he was outside a few minutes ago baiting a trap
• with pizza
• fourth son had heard a noise next door earlier while he was shutting up the hens in their coop
• possum
• eeeeewwww
• one of the ugliest animals known to man, in my opinion
• gary tried with the bb gun to lower the possum population, but wasn't successful
• if pizza doesn't work, will try this can of sardines tomorrow night
• as it is now, big dogs are out, throwing their weight around
• was asked by third son (the newly returned one in the nat'l guard) to join him, a couple of his friends who live nearby and his girlfriend (who we met at his basic training graduation) at the farmer's market tomorrow
• a good way to get to know the girlfriend, perhaps
• not sure if i'll go----it's iffy right now
• i gave him a look after he asked me....something about if he really wanted to take his mom along, and he made a face back
• he loves me
• but seriously?
• deep breaths
• flowers to buy tomorrow for altar and time with priest's wife to learn how to lay the fair linen, etc.
• a bit excited about that
• now must go
• this has been a long day full of prayer, which always makes me tired
• take care

Thoughts on Thursday

Had to go to my mom's after dinner.  She needed some supplies, got those and then took the kids to her house---changed her bedding, filled up her freezer again, got her sheets into the washer ready for her to turn on tomorrow, emptied trash, etc.  Just basic stuff.  But I always leave sad.  It's like I can't do enough, and nobody's putting that one on me.  I do it to myself.  I feel bad when we have to leave.  She'll most always be sitting at her kitchen table, or she'll be in bed.  Always either one or the other.  She's always glad to see us, which is good, and the kids are so sweet to her.

But tonight, the least one asked her if sometime she could have a particular quilt.  Mom has quite a collection...beautiful pieces.  Mom said she could have it right then.  Not what we expected.  Used to, she'd have made our youngest one wait.  I think now she feels the end spiraling up in front of her, so is more willing to share.  She even said she wanted me to take home one we'd put on her bed.  Said her own grandmother had made it for her.  Mom is 85, so that's one old quilt.  I told her I'd get it next visit.  Said I thought we ought to make tags for the ones she had, so that whoever inherited them knew the seamstress.  Seems the right thing to do.  I sure won't know.

Having one of those periods of life where the Lord is paring me down.  I had the most distinct impression earlier today.   I was asking Him about our current financial situation, not whining, but just talking to Him.  Quiet prayer time in bed.  I asked what was going on---what the reason for what we've been experiencing, and I kid you not, I got a flash of an image in my head with a sense of humor.  It was like He was amused by my question.  He said it was to get my attention.  Believe me or not.  I know some folks feel that God only speaks through the Scriptures, but I've had a relationship with Him from the get-go where I hear Him speak to me.  Some folks can understand that and some don't.  I respect the difference, but this is my experience.  A sense of humor.  I love that.  Here I am getting my knickers in a twist, and rather than feel seriousness from the Lord, I almost hear a laugh.

Puts a totally different spin on everything.