So I'm questioning whether we did the right thing in having our beloved Junior put down.
It is always such a hard decision, for everybody.
Is he in pain? Would I want to live this way? What is his quality of life?
The vet said it is a gift we can offer animals...one we should probably offer to humans as well.
Hmmm,... I don't know about that, maybe sometimes.....
I have cried for two days...I miss his presence so much.
But he was ill. All he did for 2 weeks was sleep and try to breathe.
So I ask Jesus to give me a sign.
Any kind of sign to let me know that we did right by Junior.
I look up and what I see is my calender on the wall.
It's a winter scene with these words in the corner-
I have fought the good fight,
I have finished my course,
I have kept the faith.
2 Timothy 4:7
Thanks for the prompt answer Jesus.
And thank You for letting us have our beautiful "Jun-Jun" for 13 years.
* Happy New Year to my 3 faithful readers.
I'll check in with you guys next year.
Love, Lolly XO
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Monday, December 29, 2014
:(
He's gone and I am devastated.
I haven't stopped crying for the last 6 hours.
God but I miss his presence.
Fare thee well Junie.
And Godspeed to that Rainbow Bridge.
http://www.indigo.org/rainbowbridge_ver2.html
I haven't stopped crying for the last 6 hours.
God but I miss his presence.
Fare thee well Junie.
And Godspeed to that Rainbow Bridge.
http://www.indigo.org/rainbowbridge_ver2.html
Tuesday, December 23, 2014
Seeking the light
Here's a pretty little piece just in case I get too busy in the next few days and forget to post something-
Lord Jesus,
Master of both the light and the darkness,
send your Holy Spirit upon our preparations for Christmas.
send your Holy Spirit upon our preparations for Christmas.
We who have so much to do seek quiet spaces to hear your voice each day.
We who are anxious over many things look forward to your coming among us.
We who are blessed in so many ways long for the complete joy of your kingdom.
We whose hearts are heavy seek the joy of your presence.
We are your people, walking in darkness, yet seeking the light.
To you we say, “Come Lord Jesus!”
We who are anxious over many things look forward to your coming among us.
We who are blessed in so many ways long for the complete joy of your kingdom.
We whose hearts are heavy seek the joy of your presence.
We are your people, walking in darkness, yet seeking the light.
To you we say, “Come Lord Jesus!”
—Henri J.M. Nouwen
Merry Christmas to my 3 readers.
Hope your holidays are merry and bright.
Blessings and continued prayers to you all.
Love, Lolly XO
Thursday, December 18, 2014
light
the winter Sun goes in and out of our lives
bringing light and darkness
as it waxes and wanes
the Son also goes in and out of our lives
bringing with Him light and darkness
as He waxes and wanes
for me, the difference between these two
is whether i have moved into the shadows
or whether i have chosen to remain
in whatever sort or source of light there is
when the darkness tries to creeps too close
i like to think of myself as a person of light
except for when i am a person of the dark
letting fear and failure and anger rule me
which is all the time.
i fight it on a daily basis..this darkness.
i want to be light, to see light, to eat it for breakfast
instead, fear rules my heart, making me anxious,
making me question the light that i think i am seeing.
i light a candle every morning to ward off the
winter darkness that greets me as i rise.
i read devotionals to turn on the light inside of me.
i haven't read my Bible in a long time, perhaps
this is why i am feeling the darkness so keenly.
the sun has not shown itself here in more than a week.
my sister came today for Bible study and we rushed
through it as she had places to go, which didn't help at all.
Our boy Junie is hanging on...more reasons for the darkness.
i'm tired and surly and in need of a nap.
Man! i hate the winter blues
if only the sun would shine in to my windows,
if only i could find the time to let the Son shine
into my life and heart and soul.
Come Lord Jesus..infuse me with your light
take away this darkness that i see.
let the sunlight and Your light shine on me and in me.
bringing light and darkness
as it waxes and wanes
the Son also goes in and out of our lives
bringing with Him light and darkness
as He waxes and wanes
for me, the difference between these two
is whether i have moved into the shadows
or whether i have chosen to remain
in whatever sort or source of light there is
when the darkness tries to creeps too close
i like to think of myself as a person of light
except for when i am a person of the dark
letting fear and failure and anger rule me
which is all the time.
i fight it on a daily basis..this darkness.
i want to be light, to see light, to eat it for breakfast
instead, fear rules my heart, making me anxious,
making me question the light that i think i am seeing.
i light a candle every morning to ward off the
winter darkness that greets me as i rise.
i read devotionals to turn on the light inside of me.
i haven't read my Bible in a long time, perhaps
this is why i am feeling the darkness so keenly.
the sun has not shown itself here in more than a week.
my sister came today for Bible study and we rushed
through it as she had places to go, which didn't help at all.
Our boy Junie is hanging on...more reasons for the darkness.
i'm tired and surly and in need of a nap.
Man! i hate the winter blues
if only the sun would shine in to my windows,
if only i could find the time to let the Son shine
into my life and heart and soul.
Come Lord Jesus..infuse me with your light
take away this darkness that i see.
let the sunlight and Your light shine on me and in me.
Wednesday, December 17, 2014
Junie
The tree is up and decorated.
the presents are bought but not wrapped.
I have grocery shopped for this week and next
We have everything we will need
to make the spirits bright.
And our beautiful boy Junie lays dying.
I am trying not to cry and failing, miserably.
I love this cat like he is one of my flesh and blood children.
I watch him all day long like a momma with a sick baby.
I can see that he isn't eating like he used to.
I can sense that he is very close to his time.
He is 13 years old.
That seems to be the magic number in this house.
Fluffy was 14, I think. Baby was 13.
Junie has been so lonely this past year without Baby.
I sometimes wonder if his heart is broken without her.
It does appear to be heart failure that he is in.
I hate being miserable and sad.
The waiting is the hardest part.
This is the season of light, love, hope and birth.
So I offer up these thoughts for our beloved Junie-
Junie, when you see the light it is okay to go towards it.
We, your people here on Earth, have loved you well and true.
We hope to see you again near that rainbow bridge when our own time comes.
Say Hi to Mojo and Fluffy and Baby when you get there.
Bump them all with your forehead, lick them with your rough pink tongue.
Jump and frolic and play like you used to.
And know that you will be missed for the rest of our days.
This house has never been empty of cats.
At one time there were 4 of you. You Junie B. June are our last.
Your leaving will leave us all with such a profound sense of loss.
I can't write anymore today...I'm too sad.
Sorry
the presents are bought but not wrapped.
I have grocery shopped for this week and nextWe have everything we will need
to make the spirits bright.
And our beautiful boy Junie lays dying.
I am trying not to cry and failing, miserably.
I love this cat like he is one of my flesh and blood children.
I watch him all day long like a momma with a sick baby.
I can see that he isn't eating like he used to.
I can sense that he is very close to his time.
He is 13 years old.
That seems to be the magic number in this house.
Fluffy was 14, I think. Baby was 13.
Junie has been so lonely this past year without Baby.
I sometimes wonder if his heart is broken without her.
It does appear to be heart failure that he is in.
I hate being miserable and sad.
The waiting is the hardest part.
This is the season of light, love, hope and birth.
So I offer up these thoughts for our beloved Junie-
Junie, when you see the light it is okay to go towards it.
We, your people here on Earth, have loved you well and true.
We hope to see you again near that rainbow bridge when our own time comes.
Say Hi to Mojo and Fluffy and Baby when you get there.
Bump them all with your forehead, lick them with your rough pink tongue.
Jump and frolic and play like you used to.
And know that you will be missed for the rest of our days.
This house has never been empty of cats.
At one time there were 4 of you. You Junie B. June are our last.
Your leaving will leave us all with such a profound sense of loss.
I can't write anymore today...I'm too sad.
Sorry
Tuesday, December 16, 2014
Forgiveness
I have not spoken more than a handful of words to my mother in law in the last 5 years.
To put it simply...I got tired of being the target of her mentally unbalanced anger.
Listen...it goes back 35 years.
35 years of pretending to get along.
35 years of acting as if...when we both knew it was going to be a never.
35 years of her being nice to my face and vilifying me to others behind my back.
Her own grown children are aware that she is unbalanced.
They are all aware of her statements about me and to me.
And they all say the exact same thing..
"That's just my mom. That's just how she is."
For me..."That's just my mom" doesn't cut it anymore.
I. Don't. Care. if you say "That's how she is" anymore.
I am tired of the mental bullshit and decided I ain't going to play the game anymore.
When I had our first child, I was inundated with "advice" from her.
You're not feeding her right.
You're not burping her right.
You're not dressing her right.
You're not holding her right.
You're not diapering her right.
Baby girls are ugly "down there" with no hair.
When I got pregnant for the second time her advice was to get rid of it
as our first born who was now 2 was much too young yet to have a sibling.
When our second child, another daughter died at birth. she blamed me for it and told her coworkers and family members (who speak a different language and live an ocean away) that I had gotten drunk one night during my pregnancy and that that was why the umbilical cord and gotten twisted around her...cuz my unborn daughter had gotten dizzy from the alcohol I had consumed and had twisted around and around and around.
(17 years had passed before I was told about this. One of the European relatives came for a visit and told us what they had been told, by her, as the reason for our baby's passing.)
She also told us that we were bad parents and that god would take away all of our children.
When my husband decided to spend the next 30 years as an alcoholic I also got blamed for that.
She told me my cooking was bad. She told me how to, and how often I should be, having sex with him. She criticized my house cleaning skills. When the children fell ill or even fell down and hurt themselves, I got the blame from her for that.
She took it upon herself one day to come over and tell me that her son was only staying with me because of the children and when they were all finally out of school he would leave me and she hoped he would then find someone who really loved him.
She would try to hook him up with the single ladies that she worked with.
"So and so really thinks you're cute AND she loves sex too" was one of the things that was said in my presence...I kid you not.
Now lest you think that I cannot let this go, that for some reason I just cannot let go of all of the things that were said about me behind my back and to my face for the last 35 years,
I offer up this fact-
Just recently my husband had an attack of his gallbladder and/or pancreas which landed him in the hospital for 2 days.
Upon finding out that he was in the hospital with gallbladder issues her words to our grown adult daughter were- "That's because your mom doesn't take care of him."
I know this is a long and rambling post and truly I am only touching the tip of the ice burg here..
But I wanted to tell you about church this past Sunday.
It was empty...lots of seats available everywhere...and out of the corner of my eye,
I see my mother in law, whom I have not spoken to in one entire year, sit directly behind me.
This is not new.
She chooses to sit as close to me as she can all the fucking time at church.
Sorry Lord.
I wanted to move. I wanted to change seats.
I felt my brain start to burn.
This wasn't any hot flash.
This was molten hot ass lava that I felt I wanted to spew.
I crossed my arms. I started tapping my foot. I felt bees in my blood stream.
The rage she makes me feel is totally unchristian.
I just want her to leave me alone. To not sit by me. To not talk to me.
I'm crazy and crazed and raging and enraged and unforgiving like a tree.
I. will. NOT. be moved.
And I keep getting prompted by Jesus to forgive her.
Shit.
How can I Lord?
How can I offer forgiveness to this woman?
This woman who has always thought and said terrible things about me?
I don't know how to do it. I don't think I can do it. I don't want to do it.
She tells people lies about me Jesus.
I can't tell you how many times she has hurt my feelings and made me cry
and no one, not even her son has come to my rescue.
He tells me to ignore her, that she is mentally unbalanced.
So I ignore her and she sits directly behind me at church.
For years she mails me birthday cards with checks for $25.00 which I do not cash
then she hounds us with phone calls as to why her check hasn't been cashed.
She calls my mother and tells her that I am lucky that her son chose to marry me
because without him, I would have ended up being an unmarried hag.
Forgive THIS Lord?!
Forgive her all her sins against me?
Lord, You do not know of what you are asking of me....
How does one forgive what has become unforgivable?
In this season of Love, Joy, Peace, Stillness, and Holy Birth
I sit here and do not know how to offer her those things that He is asking of me.
Can I not just keep trying to ignore her?
Isn't that sort of like forgiveness if I don't engage with her??
Help me Jesus...Give me the words. Give me the will and the want.
Show me in this holiest of seasons how to do something hard.
How to give up my will and do what You are asking.
We are so broken........
To put it simply...I got tired of being the target of her mentally unbalanced anger.
Listen...it goes back 35 years.
35 years of pretending to get along.
35 years of acting as if...when we both knew it was going to be a never.
35 years of her being nice to my face and vilifying me to others behind my back.
Her own grown children are aware that she is unbalanced.
They are all aware of her statements about me and to me.
And they all say the exact same thing..
"That's just my mom. That's just how she is."
For me..."That's just my mom" doesn't cut it anymore.
I. Don't. Care. if you say "That's how she is" anymore.
I am tired of the mental bullshit and decided I ain't going to play the game anymore.
When I had our first child, I was inundated with "advice" from her.
You're not feeding her right.
You're not burping her right.
You're not dressing her right.
You're not holding her right.
You're not diapering her right.
Baby girls are ugly "down there" with no hair.
When I got pregnant for the second time her advice was to get rid of it
as our first born who was now 2 was much too young yet to have a sibling.
When our second child, another daughter died at birth. she blamed me for it and told her coworkers and family members (who speak a different language and live an ocean away) that I had gotten drunk one night during my pregnancy and that that was why the umbilical cord and gotten twisted around her...cuz my unborn daughter had gotten dizzy from the alcohol I had consumed and had twisted around and around and around.
(17 years had passed before I was told about this. One of the European relatives came for a visit and told us what they had been told, by her, as the reason for our baby's passing.)
She also told us that we were bad parents and that god would take away all of our children.
When my husband decided to spend the next 30 years as an alcoholic I also got blamed for that.
She told me my cooking was bad. She told me how to, and how often I should be, having sex with him. She criticized my house cleaning skills. When the children fell ill or even fell down and hurt themselves, I got the blame from her for that.
She took it upon herself one day to come over and tell me that her son was only staying with me because of the children and when they were all finally out of school he would leave me and she hoped he would then find someone who really loved him.
She would try to hook him up with the single ladies that she worked with.
"So and so really thinks you're cute AND she loves sex too" was one of the things that was said in my presence...I kid you not.
Now lest you think that I cannot let this go, that for some reason I just cannot let go of all of the things that were said about me behind my back and to my face for the last 35 years,
I offer up this fact-
Just recently my husband had an attack of his gallbladder and/or pancreas which landed him in the hospital for 2 days.
Upon finding out that he was in the hospital with gallbladder issues her words to our grown adult daughter were- "That's because your mom doesn't take care of him."
I know this is a long and rambling post and truly I am only touching the tip of the ice burg here..
But I wanted to tell you about church this past Sunday.
It was empty...lots of seats available everywhere...and out of the corner of my eye,
I see my mother in law, whom I have not spoken to in one entire year, sit directly behind me.
This is not new.
She chooses to sit as close to me as she can all the fucking time at church.
Sorry Lord.
I wanted to move. I wanted to change seats.
I felt my brain start to burn.
This wasn't any hot flash.
This was molten hot ass lava that I felt I wanted to spew.
I crossed my arms. I started tapping my foot. I felt bees in my blood stream.
The rage she makes me feel is totally unchristian.
I just want her to leave me alone. To not sit by me. To not talk to me.
I'm crazy and crazed and raging and enraged and unforgiving like a tree.
I. will. NOT. be moved.
And I keep getting prompted by Jesus to forgive her.
Shit.
How can I Lord?
How can I offer forgiveness to this woman?
This woman who has always thought and said terrible things about me?
I don't know how to do it. I don't think I can do it. I don't want to do it.
She tells people lies about me Jesus.
I can't tell you how many times she has hurt my feelings and made me cry
and no one, not even her son has come to my rescue.
He tells me to ignore her, that she is mentally unbalanced.
So I ignore her and she sits directly behind me at church.
For years she mails me birthday cards with checks for $25.00 which I do not cash
then she hounds us with phone calls as to why her check hasn't been cashed.
She calls my mother and tells her that I am lucky that her son chose to marry me
because without him, I would have ended up being an unmarried hag.
Forgive THIS Lord?!
Forgive her all her sins against me?
Lord, You do not know of what you are asking of me....
How does one forgive what has become unforgivable?
In this season of Love, Joy, Peace, Stillness, and Holy Birth
I sit here and do not know how to offer her those things that He is asking of me.
Can I not just keep trying to ignore her?
Isn't that sort of like forgiveness if I don't engage with her??
Help me Jesus...Give me the words. Give me the will and the want.
Show me in this holiest of seasons how to do something hard.
How to give up my will and do what You are asking.
We are so broken........
Saturday, December 6, 2014
Peace
I'm here.
I'm busy.
I'm sorry.
I miss reading and writing here.
I miss the connection with you guys.
But time gets away from me.
It's the usual shit.
Busy with the grandkids all day.
Too tired at night to do anything else
but veg out on the couch.
Holidays are quickly approaching.
Our Christmas tree is up.
Only half decorated but at least it is up.
Some gifts are bought.
Feels like a lot needs to be done yet.
I feel myself getting stressed per usual
at this time of year.
Wonder why I allow that to happen.....
I make the holiday about perfection
When it doesn't need to be.
I'm finding myself in prayer a lot.
Praying for my friend Amy, back from Mayo.
For another friend who finds hisself
suddenly jobless at the age of 55.
And for the people in this world who seem
hell bent on destroying each other.
I pray for you guys and my family members
and I pray for myself...
To stop yelling at these grandyoungins of mine!
It's supposed to be the season of peace, right?
I'm gonna start praying for peace.
World Peace.
Peace for you,
Peace for me,
Peace for us all.
I'm busy.
I'm sorry.
I miss reading and writing here.
I miss the connection with you guys.
But time gets away from me.
It's the usual shit.
Busy with the grandkids all day.
Too tired at night to do anything else
but veg out on the couch.
Holidays are quickly approaching.
Our Christmas tree is up.
Only half decorated but at least it is up.
Some gifts are bought.
Feels like a lot needs to be done yet.
I feel myself getting stressed per usual
at this time of year.
Wonder why I allow that to happen.....
I make the holiday about perfection
When it doesn't need to be.
I'm finding myself in prayer a lot.
Praying for my friend Amy, back from Mayo.
For another friend who finds hisself
suddenly jobless at the age of 55.
And for the people in this world who seem
hell bent on destroying each other.
I pray for you guys and my family members
and I pray for myself...
To stop yelling at these grandyoungins of mine!
It's supposed to be the season of peace, right?
I'm gonna start praying for peace.
World Peace.
Peace for you,
Peace for me,
Peace for us all.
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
I am
I am ignorant-
I don't know what it is like to be a person of color living in America. I have no idea what it is like for them to live day in day out feeling like they don't matter...that black lives don't matter.
In truth, the black population wants us to know that they think the white man thinks that black lives don't matter. When it's black gang members killing other black gang members in Chicago then nobody shouts black lives matter.
I realize that...
I am privileged-
I am a middle class white woman living in a middle class white neighborhood. I live in small town USA. We don't have gang wars where at least 6 people are shot dead every single weekend. In my town we don't have any neighborhoods that are called "The Projects" or The Slums. We don't have dope dealers selling crack on our street corners. We didn't have any protesters marching thru our streets or burning down our stores or torching cop cars or looting after the Grand Jury's verdict.
I realize that...
I'm angry-
When I watch the news and see people are looting the stores, I wonder how in the hell does the Grand Jury's decision make breaking into stores and stealing and looting okay? Where is the connection between the two? A select group of people made an unpopular decision based on evidence which pissed them off so let's go steal stuff?! Let's burn down our town cuz that'll show 'em how mad we are. I've never looted any stores and made it a rational decision in my mind that I deserved to have these things, so it was ok. I've never looted at all. Doesn't make any sense to me. They are complaining about the way that they are being treated and yet they are burning down their town and looting and throwing bricks and God knows what else.
I realize that...
I am intolerant-
If I lived in a place like they do, would I feel entitled to steal stuff that I want because a white cop shot a black man? Would any of this have happened if a black cop shot that black kid? Would people still be screaming and crying and protesting if this was a black on black thing? What if it was a black cop and a white kid? Or is this about the fact that the black man had no weapon? Now, couldn't his size have been a weapon? Couldn't his anger have been a weapon? Couldn't the fact that he and his people have been oppressed for the last 200 years made him angry enough to hurt someone or at least "look" like he was gonna hurt someone? I'm serious...Black people are using the history of slavery as a weapon, as a reason for hating white people.
I realize that...
I am saddened-
I will never know what it is like to grow up a person of color. I will never know a hatred so deep that it goes back 200 years and keeps fueling the fire of a certain race of people. I don't even like my own attitude over all of this. I don't know those people who live in Ferguson-either white or black. They live in a state of tension that must at times seem surreal, even to them and this makes me sad. Do they never know peace or have peace or experience any peace, ever, at all? Is there never a time that they can live tension free? Do they ever feel like they can breathe and just be themselves and live their lives?
I realize that...
I am blessed-
Blessed beyond my wildest imagination.
To be born white, to live in Suburbia, to live in the US of A, to never have to wonder if the cop car rolling down the street is out looking for me because of the color of my skin. I've never known hunger or homelessness, or drug addiction. I've never had to live in the projects or live off of welfare, my people were never slaves, we've never been hunted down for any reason.
I get it. I am very privileged and I've led a very charmed life.
And I realize that...
I am a child of God. We are all children of God. You, me, them, us. Black, White, Red, whatever.
We all deserve to live our lives in peace. We all deserve to be loved, to be forgiven, to be redeemed.
Setting fires, stealing and looting, throwing bricks and bottles just doesn't seem like the right solution to me. Isn't there a better way? Isn't there a way we can learn to live in peace and harmony with ourselves and our neighbors?
Jesus...please come and save us all.
I don't know what it is like to be a person of color living in America. I have no idea what it is like for them to live day in day out feeling like they don't matter...that black lives don't matter.
In truth, the black population wants us to know that they think the white man thinks that black lives don't matter. When it's black gang members killing other black gang members in Chicago then nobody shouts black lives matter.
I realize that...
I am privileged-
I am a middle class white woman living in a middle class white neighborhood. I live in small town USA. We don't have gang wars where at least 6 people are shot dead every single weekend. In my town we don't have any neighborhoods that are called "The Projects" or The Slums. We don't have dope dealers selling crack on our street corners. We didn't have any protesters marching thru our streets or burning down our stores or torching cop cars or looting after the Grand Jury's verdict.
I realize that...
I'm angry-
When I watch the news and see people are looting the stores, I wonder how in the hell does the Grand Jury's decision make breaking into stores and stealing and looting okay? Where is the connection between the two? A select group of people made an unpopular decision based on evidence which pissed them off so let's go steal stuff?! Let's burn down our town cuz that'll show 'em how mad we are. I've never looted any stores and made it a rational decision in my mind that I deserved to have these things, so it was ok. I've never looted at all. Doesn't make any sense to me. They are complaining about the way that they are being treated and yet they are burning down their town and looting and throwing bricks and God knows what else.
I realize that...
I am intolerant-
If I lived in a place like they do, would I feel entitled to steal stuff that I want because a white cop shot a black man? Would any of this have happened if a black cop shot that black kid? Would people still be screaming and crying and protesting if this was a black on black thing? What if it was a black cop and a white kid? Or is this about the fact that the black man had no weapon? Now, couldn't his size have been a weapon? Couldn't his anger have been a weapon? Couldn't the fact that he and his people have been oppressed for the last 200 years made him angry enough to hurt someone or at least "look" like he was gonna hurt someone? I'm serious...Black people are using the history of slavery as a weapon, as a reason for hating white people.
I realize that...
I am saddened-
I will never know what it is like to grow up a person of color. I will never know a hatred so deep that it goes back 200 years and keeps fueling the fire of a certain race of people. I don't even like my own attitude over all of this. I don't know those people who live in Ferguson-either white or black. They live in a state of tension that must at times seem surreal, even to them and this makes me sad. Do they never know peace or have peace or experience any peace, ever, at all? Is there never a time that they can live tension free? Do they ever feel like they can breathe and just be themselves and live their lives?
I realize that...
I am blessed-
Blessed beyond my wildest imagination.
To be born white, to live in Suburbia, to live in the US of A, to never have to wonder if the cop car rolling down the street is out looking for me because of the color of my skin. I've never known hunger or homelessness, or drug addiction. I've never had to live in the projects or live off of welfare, my people were never slaves, we've never been hunted down for any reason.
I get it. I am very privileged and I've led a very charmed life.
And I realize that...
I am a child of God. We are all children of God. You, me, them, us. Black, White, Red, whatever.
We all deserve to live our lives in peace. We all deserve to be loved, to be forgiven, to be redeemed.
Setting fires, stealing and looting, throwing bricks and bottles just doesn't seem like the right solution to me. Isn't there a better way? Isn't there a way we can learn to live in peace and harmony with ourselves and our neighbors?
Jesus...please come and save us all.
Thursday, November 20, 2014
Grand Kids
Tuesday was a trial.
My 2 grand kids fought and argued and cried all. day. long.
So of course this means Granny fought and argued all. day. long. too.
(I almost cried at one point but that would have taken too much energy)
They refused to share with each other so every toy choice was a battle.
He wanted to play with his cars but wouldn't let her have any,
which made her cry.
So I give her the large bucket of Legos.
He sidles up to the table and wants the exact Lego piece that she is playing with!
He takes it from her and she cries.
I take it from him and give it back to her and he cries.
I'm not talking sad gentle crying here...I'm talking howling....and screaming with tears.
She wants to watch her favorite cartoon which is Bubble Guppies.
He cries cuz he wants to watch Thomas the Train.
Even though we just finished watching a movie he'd picked which wasn't Thomas the Train.
She wants her socks off!! while the weather feels like -7 with the windchill today.
I wrestle with her to keep them on, she's laughing but I ain't.
He keeps taking his shirt off and I keep telling him to put it back on.
He won't eat. Period. No matter what I offer it is refused.
When he does finally eat at 4:00 (Chocolate Milk and a PB & J)
he wants to eat in front of the TV in the living room.
She refuses to eat unless it is in her booster seat at the kitchen table,
but at least she eats anything!!
We are, all of us, recovering from having colds.
She hates having her nose wiped and cries when I do it (more tears = more snot)
When she hugs me, she rubs her snotty nose on my shoulder...only later do I see the evidence. Ugh
He refuses to blow his nose, preferring instead to sniff all that crap right up into his ears.
My one ear is stuffed full of what feels like cotton wool so I am having trouble hearing-
With the exception of their howling which I can hear with clarity in stereo.
He gets a time out for stealing her dolly and doll bottle...more howling from him from the couch.
She gets put in the playpen for attempting to hit and claw at him for stealing said dolly.
This time the howling is from her with more tears and more snot.
I've got a slight cough and every time I cough, I pee a little so it always feels like I wet myself.
The deafness in my right ear is maddening, so is the piddling in my pants and my infernal runny nose.
It is making me very short tempered and aggravated and they keep fighting and crying!!!
***************************************************
There is a woman I know who has 2 grown children.
Her son is 42. Her daughter is 38.
Neither one has married and neither one has any desire for children.
And this fact makes her sad.
She wants to dance at their weddings.
She wants to anticipate the arrival of her grandchildren.
She realizes that her children's biological clocks are ticking very loudly now
and that her window of opportunity to ever become a grandma is quickly slamming shut.
The other day she said to me "I want grandchildren but I guess it's too late now."
On days like the one I described at the very beginning of this post
I would gladly sell her my own grand kids.
Horrible little gutter snipes that they are!!
Then Wednesday comes and they are as good as gold all. day. long.
They tumble in the front door smiling and loving and happy.
They play nicely with each other and share the toys all. day. long.
They watch Thomas the Train cartoons and dance to Bubble Guppy songs.
They eat breakfast AND lunch at the kitchen table
And all . day. long. there is no howling, screaming or crying ...not even from Granny ;)
Dear Jesus,
When I pray for peace and quiet, I guess I had better be specific, huh?
I need to remember that there are those who would love to be in my shoes.
Forgive me for my complaining nature.
Thank you Jesus for blessing me with Grand Kids
Amen
My 2 grand kids fought and argued and cried all. day. long.
So of course this means Granny fought and argued all. day. long. too.
(I almost cried at one point but that would have taken too much energy)
They refused to share with each other so every toy choice was a battle.
He wanted to play with his cars but wouldn't let her have any,
which made her cry.
So I give her the large bucket of Legos.
He sidles up to the table and wants the exact Lego piece that she is playing with!
He takes it from her and she cries.
I take it from him and give it back to her and he cries.
I'm not talking sad gentle crying here...I'm talking howling....and screaming with tears.
She wants to watch her favorite cartoon which is Bubble Guppies.
He cries cuz he wants to watch Thomas the Train.
Even though we just finished watching a movie he'd picked which wasn't Thomas the Train.
She wants her socks off!! while the weather feels like -7 with the windchill today.
I wrestle with her to keep them on, she's laughing but I ain't.
He keeps taking his shirt off and I keep telling him to put it back on.
He won't eat. Period. No matter what I offer it is refused.
When he does finally eat at 4:00 (Chocolate Milk and a PB & J)
he wants to eat in front of the TV in the living room.
She refuses to eat unless it is in her booster seat at the kitchen table,
but at least she eats anything!!
We are, all of us, recovering from having colds.
She hates having her nose wiped and cries when I do it (more tears = more snot)
When she hugs me, she rubs her snotty nose on my shoulder...only later do I see the evidence. Ugh
He refuses to blow his nose, preferring instead to sniff all that crap right up into his ears.
My one ear is stuffed full of what feels like cotton wool so I am having trouble hearing-
With the exception of their howling which I can hear with clarity in stereo.
He gets a time out for stealing her dolly and doll bottle...more howling from him from the couch.
She gets put in the playpen for attempting to hit and claw at him for stealing said dolly.
This time the howling is from her with more tears and more snot.
I've got a slight cough and every time I cough, I pee a little so it always feels like I wet myself.
The deafness in my right ear is maddening, so is the piddling in my pants and my infernal runny nose.
It is making me very short tempered and aggravated and they keep fighting and crying!!!
***************************************************
There is a woman I know who has 2 grown children.
Her son is 42. Her daughter is 38.
Neither one has married and neither one has any desire for children.
And this fact makes her sad.
She wants to dance at their weddings.
She wants to anticipate the arrival of her grandchildren.
She realizes that her children's biological clocks are ticking very loudly now
and that her window of opportunity to ever become a grandma is quickly slamming shut.
The other day she said to me "I want grandchildren but I guess it's too late now."
On days like the one I described at the very beginning of this post
I would gladly sell her my own grand kids.
Horrible little gutter snipes that they are!!
Then Wednesday comes and they are as good as gold all. day. long.
They tumble in the front door smiling and loving and happy.
They play nicely with each other and share the toys all. day. long.
They watch Thomas the Train cartoons and dance to Bubble Guppy songs.
They eat breakfast AND lunch at the kitchen table
And all . day. long. there is no howling, screaming or crying ...not even from Granny ;)
Dear Jesus,
When I pray for peace and quiet, I guess I had better be specific, huh?
I need to remember that there are those who would love to be in my shoes.
Forgive me for my complaining nature.
Thank you Jesus-
For the noise, the snot, the crying, the laughing, the sticky messes, the unconditional love.
For Cartoons, P B & J, chocolate milk, pacifiers, hugs and kisses, pink and blue mittens,
Their tiny beautiful chicklet teeth, Ninja Turtle underwear and the smell of their heads.
For blankies and dollys and trains and Legos and Bubble Guppy dance songs.
Thank you Jesus for blessing me with Grand Kids
Amen
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
Fruit for thought
I noticed recently while in the shower that I use a lot of fruit scented products.
My shampoo and conditioner smell like Passion Fruit
Face wash~ Orange Burst
Facial scrub~ Apricot
Body wash~ Coconut
Bubble bath~ Grapefruit
Body Lotion~ Cocoa Butter or Warm vanilla Sugar in the Winter
and Tangerine or Coconut Lime in the Summer
Body Spray~Grapefruit Lemongrass or Plum(something or other) from Dove
Deodorant~Tropical Paradise from Suave which smells like Coconut and Pineapple
Bath Powder~No scent but made with cornstarch
Hand Soap-Bathroom~Pumpkin Spice
Hand Soap-Kitchen~Orange Tangerine or Lemon Burst
Even the Lysol Spray that I buy is scented Orange citrus or Lemon
The candles I'm burning right now are Pumpkin spice and Spiced Pear
I'm not sure why I love these scents so much but they make me happy.
Considering the fact that I hate to eat fruit it don't make much sense.
So here's where I'll throw in the Jesus thing today-
You know that Fruit of the Spirit quote from the Bible-
But what happens when we live God’s way? He brings gifts into our lives, much the same way that fruit appears in an orchard—things like affection for others, exuberance about life, serenity. We develop a willingness to stick with things, a sense of compassion in the heart, and a conviction that a basic holiness permeates things and people. We find ourselves involved in loyal commitments, not needing to force our way in life, able to marshal and direct our energies wisely. Galatians 5:22-23The Message (MSG)
My shampoo and conditioner smell like Passion Fruit
Face wash~ Orange Burst
Facial scrub~ Apricot
Body wash~ Coconut
Bubble bath~ Grapefruit
Body Lotion~ Cocoa Butter or Warm vanilla Sugar in the Winter
and Tangerine or Coconut Lime in the Summer
Body Spray~Grapefruit Lemongrass or Plum(something or other) from Dove
Deodorant~Tropical Paradise from Suave which smells like Coconut and Pineapple
Bath Powder~No scent but made with cornstarch
Hand Soap-Bathroom~Pumpkin Spice
Hand Soap-Kitchen~Orange Tangerine or Lemon Burst
Even the Lysol Spray that I buy is scented Orange citrus or Lemon
The candles I'm burning right now are Pumpkin spice and Spiced Pear
I'm not sure why I love these scents so much but they make me happy.
Considering the fact that I hate to eat fruit it don't make much sense.
So here's where I'll throw in the Jesus thing today-
You know that Fruit of the Spirit quote from the Bible-
But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness,
faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Galatians 5:22-23English Standard Version
The following is what that same passage looks like from The Message-
Isn't that beautiful? I love the way Eugene Petersen interpreted that passage.
And I love that God has lately been bringing more of those things into my life.
Affection for others, exuberance for life, serenity.
On a sad note...another friend has been diagnosed with cancer.
This time it is colon cancer with "spots" seen on chest and liver x-rays.
Shit.
She's 44, married with 2 kids.
I wanted to send her via Facebook a poem or a Bible quote or something of the like-
The kind that says stay strong...God's got this.
But I felt like that wasn't true. I don't believe God's got this.
I don't believe God had anything to do with this.
The God I pray to doesn't give people cancer.
He may heal them...but sometimes He heals them on the other side.
I'm not implying that I think she will succumb to cancer.
I don't know what will happen.
But I am praying for her every time I think about her,
which is to say that I keep praying for her all day long.
Anyway...all the quotes were wrong, stupid, trite.
Where's the cutsey Pinterest quote with flowers and smiley faces that says
F*** You cancer?
F*** You cancer?
And how would that make her feel better? Or loved? Or prayed for??
What I found was a singer named Lauren Daigle on Youtube.
She's fairly new to the Christian singing artist scene. To me she sounds a lot like Adele.
Her cover song for You Make Me Brave was exactly what I wanted for my friend.
It said exactly what I wanted her to know about God and being brave through this time in her life.
So I sent it to her in a private FB message, only it didn't go private. It went to my public FB page.
I started to take it down, started to hit the delete button but I stopped.
Maybe the words of this song would be just the thing that somebody else needed hear.
Maybe if other people heard this song and saw who I had dedicated it to,
maybe they would or could pray for my friend too.
"...A basic holiness permeate things and people..."
Her name is Amy. She is a beautiful person in every single way possible.
And she is all of these things-
love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithful, gentle and self-controlled.
Would you help me pray for her today?
Would you light your candles no matter the scent and help me pray for my friend?
Friday, October 31, 2014
Rushing head long into anxiety
In my past life, rushing was everything.
It's what I did.
Hurry to get up and get dressed.
Hurry to get the kids out of the house and myself to work.
Hurry throughout the day.
Multi-tasking...answering phones while checking in patients while checking the mail while writing letters while checking patients back out... every single day was the same.
I worked a 10 hour day and rushed my way through it.
Reverse that later in the day...
Hurry to get the kids home.
Hurry to get dinner started.
Hurry to get everyone in bed.
Just to start it all over again the next morning.
Talk about burn out.
I hurried when I grocery shopped or cleaned the house.
I even drove fast. Rushing from one place to the next.
Is it any wonder at all that I have used up every ounce of my soul??
Is it any wonder that it has taken me the better part of 5 years to heal from that fast paced toxic life and learn to relax inside my own skin ?
This past Sunday found me hurrying again.
And I didn't like it.
Upon awakening, I knew I had a busy day.
I needed to clean the house and do laundry.
I needed to get to the store and pick up something for dinner, and grocery shop for the week.
We are planning on carving pumpkins after Sunday night dinner with the family.
And the first thing I thought about giving up was going to church.
"No time", I told myself. "Too much to do."
After I thought about it for a minute I realized what a stupid idea that was.
For me, Church is one of the few places I go where I can sit still and relax.
I love the praise and worship music.
I love listening to Pastor Eric's sermons.
Church fills me with a sense of peace...why in the world would I choose to skip it?
So I decided that it would be a good idea to grocery shop before church.
Uh...not so good of an idea...talk about rushing...
By the time I got to the checkout it felt like I had drunk 4 cups of coffee.
I'm the 4th person waiting in the line behind other shoppers with overly full carts.
Crap.
I glance at the clock behind the customer service counter and I see that church starts in 10 minutes.
Crap. Crap. Crap.
I try to slow down my breathing. I can feel myself chuffing away like I've just finished a race.
My hands were shaking, I'm sweating like no other. What the hell?
I'm either having a heart attack or maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
Enter in the cashier that is opening up a new check out line.
"Ma'am?" she says to me..."I'll take you over here in my line."
I start willy nilly tossing everything onto the belt. I keep dropping things.
I tell myself to slow down. Just. slow. down. and I can't.
It feels as if I'm gonna just pitch right over...
Like centrifugal force is driving me... I'm lurching for heavensake!
Sigh.
There is nothing wrong with me. Physically anyway.
It's just the hurry I'm in.
I had forgotten what's it's like to always be in a hurry.
Rushing and yelling and scowling and forcing square pegs into round holes.
And to think that I used to live my life like that.
I don't want that anymore.
I can't do that anymore.
My life is better at a slower pace.
I live better, I am better at a slower pace.
I made it to church on time with a trunk full of groceries.
I sat back and listened to the Pastor and his sermon.
I listened to the praise and worship music.
I let myself feel the love and peace and forgiveness of Jesus.
I managed to clean the house AND mop the floors and do 4 loads of laundry
And make a family dinner AND carve pumpkins
And I managed it all without skipping church.
Next time I find myself wanting to do it all
I want to do it without the anxiety and hurry.
And what doesn't get done, doesn't get done.
Except for church. That gets done.
It's what I did.
Hurry to get up and get dressed.
Hurry to get the kids out of the house and myself to work.
Hurry throughout the day.
Multi-tasking...answering phones while checking in patients while checking the mail while writing letters while checking patients back out... every single day was the same.
I worked a 10 hour day and rushed my way through it.
Reverse that later in the day...
Hurry to get the kids home.
Hurry to get dinner started.
Hurry to get everyone in bed.
Just to start it all over again the next morning.
Talk about burn out.
I hurried when I grocery shopped or cleaned the house.
I even drove fast. Rushing from one place to the next.
Is it any wonder at all that I have used up every ounce of my soul??
Is it any wonder that it has taken me the better part of 5 years to heal from that fast paced toxic life and learn to relax inside my own skin ?
This past Sunday found me hurrying again.
And I didn't like it.
Upon awakening, I knew I had a busy day.
I needed to clean the house and do laundry.
I needed to get to the store and pick up something for dinner, and grocery shop for the week.
We are planning on carving pumpkins after Sunday night dinner with the family.
And the first thing I thought about giving up was going to church.
"No time", I told myself. "Too much to do."
After I thought about it for a minute I realized what a stupid idea that was.
For me, Church is one of the few places I go where I can sit still and relax.
I love the praise and worship music.
I love listening to Pastor Eric's sermons.
Church fills me with a sense of peace...why in the world would I choose to skip it?
So I decided that it would be a good idea to grocery shop before church.
Uh...not so good of an idea...talk about rushing...
By the time I got to the checkout it felt like I had drunk 4 cups of coffee.
I'm the 4th person waiting in the line behind other shoppers with overly full carts.
Crap.
I glance at the clock behind the customer service counter and I see that church starts in 10 minutes.
Crap. Crap. Crap.
I try to slow down my breathing. I can feel myself chuffing away like I've just finished a race.
My hands were shaking, I'm sweating like no other. What the hell?
I'm either having a heart attack or maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
Enter in the cashier that is opening up a new check out line.
"Ma'am?" she says to me..."I'll take you over here in my line."
I start willy nilly tossing everything onto the belt. I keep dropping things.
I tell myself to slow down. Just. slow. down. and I can't.
It feels as if I'm gonna just pitch right over...
Like centrifugal force is driving me... I'm lurching for heavensake!
Sigh.
There is nothing wrong with me. Physically anyway.
It's just the hurry I'm in.
I had forgotten what's it's like to always be in a hurry.
Rushing and yelling and scowling and forcing square pegs into round holes.
And to think that I used to live my life like that.
I don't want that anymore.
I can't do that anymore.
My life is better at a slower pace.
I live better, I am better at a slower pace.
I made it to church on time with a trunk full of groceries.
I sat back and listened to the Pastor and his sermon.
I listened to the praise and worship music.
I let myself feel the love and peace and forgiveness of Jesus.
I managed to clean the house AND mop the floors and do 4 loads of laundry
And make a family dinner AND carve pumpkins
And I managed it all without skipping church.
Next time I find myself wanting to do it all
I want to do it without the anxiety and hurry.
And what doesn't get done, doesn't get done.
Except for church. That gets done.
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
Still here
Life has been incredibly busy here lately.
We're still painting the house, only have the trim left.
We need to start raking the yard and do Fall clean up in the gardens.
The tree colors this Fall are glorious..haven't seen them like this in years!
Probably due to the warmer weather we've had up here in the Midwest.
Which means that I am still hot and sweaty. I am so looking forward to this winter.
As soon as it snows I'm gonna stand in my drive way and spread my arms wide
and melt every f-ing snow flake I see just by the radiating heat of my body.
"Driveways done, Hon."
I read my blogs everyday but I can't find the time to post as often as I would like.
I've said before that I have so much to say but then I come up blank when I sit down to type.
Today I am just checking in to let you know that I'm still around, I'm still here. I'm still hot.
I pray for you guys daily...I look forward to reading when you post something new.
Gotta run.
The grandkids come in 5 minutes, plus I'm taking the 2 Chihuahuas to the Vet for a check up today.
This outta be fun.......
Thanks for reading friends,
Lolly
We're still painting the house, only have the trim left.
We need to start raking the yard and do Fall clean up in the gardens.
The tree colors this Fall are glorious..haven't seen them like this in years!
Probably due to the warmer weather we've had up here in the Midwest.
Which means that I am still hot and sweaty. I am so looking forward to this winter.
As soon as it snows I'm gonna stand in my drive way and spread my arms wide
and melt every f-ing snow flake I see just by the radiating heat of my body.
"Driveways done, Hon."
I read my blogs everyday but I can't find the time to post as often as I would like.
I've said before that I have so much to say but then I come up blank when I sit down to type.
Today I am just checking in to let you know that I'm still around, I'm still here. I'm still hot.
I pray for you guys daily...I look forward to reading when you post something new.
Gotta run.
The grandkids come in 5 minutes, plus I'm taking the 2 Chihuahuas to the Vet for a check up today.
This outta be fun.......
Thanks for reading friends,
Lolly
Friday, September 26, 2014
Coincidence
I love the Seinfeld episode where Elaine is talking about coincidences.
"There are no big coincidences or little coincidences....only coincidences."
Today, I beg to differ.
Because yesterday I had a big coincidence.
So big in fact, that I know God had a hand in it.
My husband and I are painting our house.
He's on one side of the house and I am on the other.
We both have our own headphones in listening to music.
While I'm busy painting trim and corners I hear someone shouting.
The words are indecipherable but I distinctly hear yelling.
Over the volume of my worship music (!) which is loud in my ears.
So I pause to take out my ear buds just to make sure it isn't him
dangling from the ladder and calling to me for help.
What I hear is a woman's voice and it's loud and she's arguing with someone.
And it's getting louder.
I look around and see nobody.
What the?!?
I can hear it...her...yelling.
So I wait and pretty soon here she comes from 3 houses down the street.
It's our town resident with..um..emotional problems.
She looks homeless but she's not.
Carries 3 purses full of shit everywhere she walks.
Her face is as brown as a nut from walking the streets all. day. long.
And as she walks, she argues with herself or God or whoever.
Now, you know, that I have been wrestling with feeling "less than"
since my closet purging. And you know I have been wrestling with
this damn lie that I can't seem to shake loose of.
So here is what I heard this woman say to herself the minute she came into view-
"Let go and Let God! You're only hurting your heart"
Can I tell you Ladies, that it felt to me like it was God shouting that at me!!
It stunned me.
Paint brush stilled in mid air, cocoa brown paint dripping onto the knee of my jeans.
Me standing there with my jaw hanging open watching the town bag lady
in her day glow orange knit hat pulled snuggley down over her hair
on an 80 degree sunny day arguing with her demons and herself and her purses
walking past my house and I !! .....I hear a message from my God?
"Let go and Let God! You're only hurting your heart"
I took it as a message from God, because, really, the only other alternative
is that I might be losing it too. As in losing my mind.
Not really but still....
It doesn't feel like I'm losing it tho. It feels more like divine intervention.
I mean who hears stuff like this right when they need it?!
It happens to me all the time.
The right prayer or the right Bible verse appears as soon as I open the book.
I read a blog post and it is just what I needed to hear at that moment on that day.
I go to church on Sunday and it's like the pastor has been eaves dropping on my life.
The sermon or the message of the sermon fits into my life like a glove.
These are my God moments, people.
This is my proof that He's real, that He hears me and He knows me and He loves me.
This is the quote that showed up today on Ann Voskamps blog.
Coincidence?? I think not.
Thanks Lord. For everything. I love you too.
"There are no big coincidences or little coincidences....only coincidences."
Today, I beg to differ.
Because yesterday I had a big coincidence.
So big in fact, that I know God had a hand in it.
My husband and I are painting our house.
He's on one side of the house and I am on the other.
We both have our own headphones in listening to music.
While I'm busy painting trim and corners I hear someone shouting.
The words are indecipherable but I distinctly hear yelling.
Over the volume of my worship music (!) which is loud in my ears.
So I pause to take out my ear buds just to make sure it isn't him
dangling from the ladder and calling to me for help.
What I hear is a woman's voice and it's loud and she's arguing with someone.
And it's getting louder.
I look around and see nobody.
What the?!?
I can hear it...her...yelling.
So I wait and pretty soon here she comes from 3 houses down the street.
It's our town resident with..um..emotional problems.
She looks homeless but she's not.
Carries 3 purses full of shit everywhere she walks.
Her face is as brown as a nut from walking the streets all. day. long.
And as she walks, she argues with herself or God or whoever.
Now, you know, that I have been wrestling with feeling "less than"
since my closet purging. And you know I have been wrestling with
this damn lie that I can't seem to shake loose of.
So here is what I heard this woman say to herself the minute she came into view-
"Let go and Let God! You're only hurting your heart"
Can I tell you Ladies, that it felt to me like it was God shouting that at me!!
It stunned me.
Paint brush stilled in mid air, cocoa brown paint dripping onto the knee of my jeans.
Me standing there with my jaw hanging open watching the town bag lady
in her day glow orange knit hat pulled snuggley down over her hair
on an 80 degree sunny day arguing with her demons and herself and her purses
walking past my house and I !! .....I hear a message from my God?
"Let go and Let God! You're only hurting your heart"
I took it as a message from God, because, really, the only other alternative
is that I might be losing it too. As in losing my mind.
Not really but still....
It doesn't feel like I'm losing it tho. It feels more like divine intervention.
I mean who hears stuff like this right when they need it?!
It happens to me all the time.
The right prayer or the right Bible verse appears as soon as I open the book.
I read a blog post and it is just what I needed to hear at that moment on that day.
I go to church on Sunday and it's like the pastor has been eaves dropping on my life.
The sermon or the message of the sermon fits into my life like a glove.
These are my God moments, people.
This is my proof that He's real, that He hears me and He knows me and He loves me.
This is the quote that showed up today on Ann Voskamps blog.
Coincidence?? I think not.
Untie that lie that strangles you by circling your life with Truth: Give Thanks to The Lord, His Love Endures –
Thanks Lord. For everything. I love you too.
Monday, September 22, 2014
Inspiration
I read so many blogs.
Maybe I follow too many.
That bothers me. Why? I can't say for sure.
In my head it makes me appear that I have nothing else to do all day but blog hop.
Not everyone posts every day.
In fact nobody does except those 31 Dayers in October.
I tried it once. 31 days of prayer.
It was harder than I thought it would be.
Come to find out I didn't have much to say about prayer.
I just want something to read on a daily basis.
Ha! Like I'm not reading every day already.
I read Courage to Change everyday.
I read Jesus Calling by Sarah Young daily.
I read The Shack: Reflections for everyday
I also read Daily Guideposts Spirit Lifting Thoughts for Everyday.
Once a week I read 7 chapters from The Awakening by Mark Nepo.
I have a stack of books from the library sitting next to me- 5 to be exact.
And I have all of those blogs.
But like I said, not everyone posts all the time.
Some of my favorites only post once a month.
But still I check everyday to make sure I'm not missing a post.
You never know where your inspiration for the day is going to come from.
Occasionally what I read and what happens to me coincide.
Like my last post- The one where I purged my closet and got rid of my work clothes.
(Thank you Birdie for commenting. I loved what you said about throwing out the lie.)
The day after my post, I saw the reading for the day in Daily Guideposts.
It was about a woman (Roberta Messner) who had lost 50 pounds and
had to give away her work wardrobe. (I am the opposite)
In the beginning of the article she quoted scripture-
"Behold, I will do a new thing..." ~ Isaiah 43:19(NKJV)
She went on to say that each of the outfits held special meaning and memories for her.
She described the joy at the time she wore them of putting each outfit together
including the matching jewelry. (Same here)
She knew where she had bought them and what her life was like at the time. (Yep)
And she hated to let them go. (Sounds so eerily familiar)
She then goes on to say that recently at church her pastor spoke about how the Lord is doing a brand-new thing in each of our lives and how it should fill our hearts to overflowing.
She finds an organization that provides work clothes for women who are job searching and can't afford to buy new. She ends her story with these words-
"Suddenly, the thought of someone wearing my clothes to have a better life
fills me with amazing joy. Everything I have, God, really belongs to You.
Help me to release it today with a heart full of joy."
I want to do that too; Give my clothes to a woman who so desperately needs them.
I don't know of an organization like the one she found so I will be taking mine
to the local Goodwill store.
I have given some of the nicer pieces to my daughter, and I cried then too.
Why are clothes making me cry?
Why does it still feel like a loss?
Why am I still believing the lie?
Everything I have, God, really belongs to You.
Help me to release it today with a heart full of joy.
Maybe I follow too many.
That bothers me. Why? I can't say for sure.
In my head it makes me appear that I have nothing else to do all day but blog hop.
Not everyone posts every day.
In fact nobody does except those 31 Dayers in October.
I tried it once. 31 days of prayer.
It was harder than I thought it would be.
Come to find out I didn't have much to say about prayer.
I just want something to read on a daily basis.
Ha! Like I'm not reading every day already.
I read Courage to Change everyday.
I read Jesus Calling by Sarah Young daily.
I read The Shack: Reflections for everyday
I also read Daily Guideposts Spirit Lifting Thoughts for Everyday.
Once a week I read 7 chapters from The Awakening by Mark Nepo.
I have a stack of books from the library sitting next to me- 5 to be exact.
And I have all of those blogs.
But like I said, not everyone posts all the time.
Some of my favorites only post once a month.
But still I check everyday to make sure I'm not missing a post.
You never know where your inspiration for the day is going to come from.
Occasionally what I read and what happens to me coincide.
Like my last post- The one where I purged my closet and got rid of my work clothes.
(Thank you Birdie for commenting. I loved what you said about throwing out the lie.)
The day after my post, I saw the reading for the day in Daily Guideposts.
It was about a woman (Roberta Messner) who had lost 50 pounds and
had to give away her work wardrobe. (I am the opposite)
In the beginning of the article she quoted scripture-
"Behold, I will do a new thing..." ~ Isaiah 43:19(NKJV)
She went on to say that each of the outfits held special meaning and memories for her.
She described the joy at the time she wore them of putting each outfit together
including the matching jewelry. (Same here)
She knew where she had bought them and what her life was like at the time. (Yep)
And she hated to let them go. (Sounds so eerily familiar)
She then goes on to say that recently at church her pastor spoke about how the Lord is doing a brand-new thing in each of our lives and how it should fill our hearts to overflowing.
She finds an organization that provides work clothes for women who are job searching and can't afford to buy new. She ends her story with these words-
"Suddenly, the thought of someone wearing my clothes to have a better life
fills me with amazing joy. Everything I have, God, really belongs to You.
Help me to release it today with a heart full of joy."
I want to do that too; Give my clothes to a woman who so desperately needs them.
I don't know of an organization like the one she found so I will be taking mine
to the local Goodwill store.
I have given some of the nicer pieces to my daughter, and I cried then too.
Why are clothes making me cry?
Why does it still feel like a loss?
Why am I still believing the lie?
Everything I have, God, really belongs to You.
Help me to release it today with a heart full of joy.
Wednesday, September 17, 2014
Purging
So I went through my closet today.
Got rid of everything that doesn't fit me anymore.
Got rid of work clothes that I no longer can or need to wear.
And it broke me. It broke my heart, and it broke me down.
I think it's supposed to be cathartic to purge every so often.
Guess I needed to do this years ago.
Six years ago (Holy Cow....6 years already??) I got fired.
They termed it letting me go, but it was the same thing.
It's taken me a long time to get over it.
I'd been promoted to what I like to call a ghost position.
I had the title of front end manager but it was an empty title...it didn't mean anything.
I had no power to make any decisions or changes, no hiring, no nothing.
Nor was I allowed to speak to the owners to voice my ideas or complaints.
It made me crazy.
Anything I did do or idea I did have was claimed by the practice manager as hers.
That made me crazier still.
It also made me mad. And being mad is what got me fired.
Listen...It wasn't a good time in my life.
I was floundering as a manager...I had no skills,
I didn't know how to do the job they hired me to do,
But they made me do it anyway...it was a failure waiting to happen.
So I'm promoted within the company to a managers job that I'm not qualified for.
My sister dies 6 months into this.
Practice manager wanted me to know that they (her and the owners) were being nice to me.
Told me that they could have fired me for taking so much time off in regards to my sister dying.
The practice manager told me that I would need to get down to business now that the funeral was over.
Told me that now it was time to move on (this the day after I returned from bereavement leave).
And I'm fired 6 months later.
So, yeah, in one years time I was promoted, I watched my sister get sick and die in a horrible way,
and then I was fired from a job I'd been at for 14 years.
Crazy was putting it mildly.
I went on Unemployment which is so extremely stressful!!
Oh my gosh is it stressful...who knew??
That lasted 9 months, then I found a new place of employment.
I work there a year before I walk out the door vowing to myself
to never take verbal abuse from any employer. Ever. Again. Ever.
And that's when my work clothes start to collect dust.
I told my husband that I didn't want to work anymore...that I'd had enough.
So I started babysitting my grandkids...just the 1 at first, now there are 2 that I watch.
So there sits my wardrobe...collecting dust and hanger marks.
Every single morning I see it as I get out of bed.
All those clothes from 14 years as a receptionist, hanging there in my closet, useless.
All those clothes that I spent my paychecks on, all those cute and tiny and lovely clothes...
Nothing but dust collectors now.
And I feel it, every morning when I wake up...and I see into that closet.
I see the loss, the failure, the sense of...I don't know what.... a feeling of grief...is that it??
Could it be guilt??? I don't know.
I only know that every time I see all of those size 4, 5, and 6 work outfits hanging there
it reminds me of what I lost, it reminds me of my failure...and it makes me feel sad.
And I'm tired of feeling sad about clothes.
I'm tired of reliving the fact that I don't work outside the home anymore.
I'm tired of feeling guilty about not being able to fit into these clothes anymore!
Listen here-
Jesus???
When I wore those clothes, I worked 10 hour days without a lunch.
When I wore those clothes, I smoked a pack of cigarettes a day, or more.
When I wore those clothes, I was a different person.
And Jesus??
The woman that wore those clothes was angry, and anxious and a multi-tasker.
The woman that wore those clothes wanted other people to compliment her on her cute clothes.
That woman wasn't very nice, was very co-dependant, and was miserable to be around.
The woman that wore those clothes did not have a relationship with you, Jesus.
The woman that I am today would like to move past all that.
The woman that I am today would like to be able to get up in the morning
and not be haunted by an old work wardrobe that is collecting dust.
So I purged my closet today and I cried while I did it.
Tears of relief? pain? sadness? I don't know.
But I'm bagging it all up and taking it down to Goodwill.
Then I'm going to pick up my grandkids and go to work.
Got rid of everything that doesn't fit me anymore.
Got rid of work clothes that I no longer can or need to wear.
And it broke me. It broke my heart, and it broke me down.
I think it's supposed to be cathartic to purge every so often.
Guess I needed to do this years ago.
Six years ago (Holy Cow....6 years already??) I got fired.
They termed it letting me go, but it was the same thing.
It's taken me a long time to get over it.
I'd been promoted to what I like to call a ghost position.
I had the title of front end manager but it was an empty title...it didn't mean anything.
I had no power to make any decisions or changes, no hiring, no nothing.
Nor was I allowed to speak to the owners to voice my ideas or complaints.
It made me crazy.
Anything I did do or idea I did have was claimed by the practice manager as hers.
That made me crazier still.
It also made me mad. And being mad is what got me fired.
Listen...It wasn't a good time in my life.
I was floundering as a manager...I had no skills,
I didn't know how to do the job they hired me to do,
But they made me do it anyway...it was a failure waiting to happen.
So I'm promoted within the company to a managers job that I'm not qualified for.
My sister dies 6 months into this.
Practice manager wanted me to know that they (her and the owners) were being nice to me.
Told me that they could have fired me for taking so much time off in regards to my sister dying.
The practice manager told me that I would need to get down to business now that the funeral was over.
Told me that now it was time to move on (this the day after I returned from bereavement leave).
And I'm fired 6 months later.
So, yeah, in one years time I was promoted, I watched my sister get sick and die in a horrible way,
and then I was fired from a job I'd been at for 14 years.
Crazy was putting it mildly.
I went on Unemployment which is so extremely stressful!!
Oh my gosh is it stressful...who knew??
That lasted 9 months, then I found a new place of employment.
I work there a year before I walk out the door vowing to myself
to never take verbal abuse from any employer. Ever. Again. Ever.
And that's when my work clothes start to collect dust.
I told my husband that I didn't want to work anymore...that I'd had enough.
So I started babysitting my grandkids...just the 1 at first, now there are 2 that I watch.
So there sits my wardrobe...collecting dust and hanger marks.
Every single morning I see it as I get out of bed.
All those clothes from 14 years as a receptionist, hanging there in my closet, useless.
All those clothes that I spent my paychecks on, all those cute and tiny and lovely clothes...
Nothing but dust collectors now.
And I feel it, every morning when I wake up...and I see into that closet.
I see the loss, the failure, the sense of...I don't know what.... a feeling of grief...is that it??
Could it be guilt??? I don't know.
I only know that every time I see all of those size 4, 5, and 6 work outfits hanging there
it reminds me of what I lost, it reminds me of my failure...and it makes me feel sad.
And I'm tired of feeling sad about clothes.
I'm tired of reliving the fact that I don't work outside the home anymore.
I'm tired of feeling guilty about not being able to fit into these clothes anymore!
Listen here-
Jesus???
When I wore those clothes, I worked 10 hour days without a lunch.
When I wore those clothes, I smoked a pack of cigarettes a day, or more.
When I wore those clothes, I was a different person.
And Jesus??
The woman that wore those clothes was angry, and anxious and a multi-tasker.
The woman that wore those clothes wanted other people to compliment her on her cute clothes.
That woman wasn't very nice, was very co-dependant, and was miserable to be around.
The woman that wore those clothes did not have a relationship with you, Jesus.
The woman that I am today would like to move past all that.
The woman that I am today would like to be able to get up in the morning
and not be haunted by an old work wardrobe that is collecting dust.
So I purged my closet today and I cried while I did it.
Tears of relief? pain? sadness? I don't know.
But I'm bagging it all up and taking it down to Goodwill.
Then I'm going to pick up my grandkids and go to work.
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Tuesday
After the hustle and bustle of summer (what hustle and bustle??)
I am so ready for the cooler weather heading our way.
I am sick unto death of being hot and sweaty.
If this is "The Change", then I've been going through it for over 7 years.
Summer anymore makes me feel cranky and out of sorts.
Walking to the library yesterday with the grand kids,
made me feel like I wanted to scream.
Half way there, I come across two ladies that I went to high school with.
They are out walking their usual 5 miles a day that they feel they must map out
and then put on Facebook for the rest of us to not really give a damn about.
It was so hot and humid and I was so hot and sweaty.
And they look like a million bucks...ok not a million dollars really
but a couple of hundred maybe, in their walking shorts and shoes that match.
And their hair was perfect...not messy or mussed up or even in a pony tail.
They had make up on for shits sake!
They smiled at me and said Hi. Said the grand kids were cute.
To which I responded with-
"I babysit them for 8 hours a day. At the end of the day they're not so cute anymore".
What a stupid thing to say...and they are still cute at the end of the day!
Tsk...why am I so inept at small talk??
I knew what I looked like...I'd been walking for a block and sweating since I had
stepped out of my house.
My hair was flat, my face was flushed, I was wearing my usual scowl.
You know the one, right?
The one I wear when I'm walking to the library and pushing a one year old in a stroller and trying to keep a 4 year old from riding his bike into the street and oncoming traffic.
I judged them for looking too cool and perky...I can only assume they judged me for looking as haggard as I felt.
Is it wrong to tell you I could have sworn that I heard them whisper to each other
"Weirdo" as I turned from them and went on my merry way?
Did they? Or is that just my imagination running away with me?
Enough already!! Will these hot flashes never end? Will I ever not be irritable??
Went to the department store with my sister yesterday morning.
Standing in the checkout line, I felt the heat flash over me.
Sonofa....!!!
My deodorant vaporizes instantly...gone...like I never put it on.
I can feel the sweat glands come to life on my head.
I swear I hear a sizzle.
I am instantly aggravated at the poor cashier and my sister too if I'm being honest.
These flashes make me so irritable.
I would almost call it a fight or flight reaction.
I felt that sense of momentary panic...like I wanted to leave the store that instant.
My sister claims to have never felt any menopause symptoms,
so in my mind, I punch her in the back of her head as I storm out of the store,
but I don't actually leave the store.
It's just in my imagination, a little fantasy, for those few minutes as I stand there
and roast to death in the hottest fucking store on Earth!
I feel like a limp dish rag.
Humidity while never any body's friend, is especially tortuous to me.
I can't seem to get away from it this summer.
I can't stop my head from sweating nor my hair from becoming flat.
Big life issues, right?
I told my hairdresser that I want short hair...pixie short.
She said I wouldn't like it.
I beg to differ.
I heard somewhere that every woman should know the freedom of having short hair once in their lifetime.
I am so ready for that freedom.
Personally, I'm rather sick of bitching about my hair on this blog of mine.
Again, I say Enough Already!!
Is it wrong to pray to Jesus to alleviate my menopausal symptoms?
Is it wrong to ask Him to give me courage and strength and cooler weather?
Is it wrong to say to Jesus "Enough already?"
Probably not.
Dear Jesus,
Enough already.
Enough with the hot flashes.
Enough with the sweating.
Enough with my judging of others.
Please help me deal with these things
in a different way.
Give me, grace, peace, forgiveness.
Give me cooler weather, less humidity.
Give me wisdom to stay indoors.
Give me words to say during small talk.
Give me more cute grandchildren.
Give me more of You.
Amen
I am so ready for the cooler weather heading our way.
I am sick unto death of being hot and sweaty.
If this is "The Change", then I've been going through it for over 7 years.
Summer anymore makes me feel cranky and out of sorts.
Walking to the library yesterday with the grand kids,
made me feel like I wanted to scream.
Half way there, I come across two ladies that I went to high school with.
They are out walking their usual 5 miles a day that they feel they must map out
and then put on Facebook for the rest of us to not really give a damn about.
It was so hot and humid and I was so hot and sweaty.
And they look like a million bucks...ok not a million dollars really
but a couple of hundred maybe, in their walking shorts and shoes that match.
And their hair was perfect...not messy or mussed up or even in a pony tail.
They had make up on for shits sake!
They smiled at me and said Hi. Said the grand kids were cute.
To which I responded with-
"I babysit them for 8 hours a day. At the end of the day they're not so cute anymore".
What a stupid thing to say...and they are still cute at the end of the day!
Tsk...why am I so inept at small talk??
I knew what I looked like...I'd been walking for a block and sweating since I had
stepped out of my house.
My hair was flat, my face was flushed, I was wearing my usual scowl.
You know the one, right?
The one I wear when I'm walking to the library and pushing a one year old in a stroller and trying to keep a 4 year old from riding his bike into the street and oncoming traffic.
I judged them for looking too cool and perky...I can only assume they judged me for looking as haggard as I felt.
Is it wrong to tell you I could have sworn that I heard them whisper to each other
"Weirdo" as I turned from them and went on my merry way?
Did they? Or is that just my imagination running away with me?
Enough already!! Will these hot flashes never end? Will I ever not be irritable??
Went to the department store with my sister yesterday morning.
Standing in the checkout line, I felt the heat flash over me.
Sonofa....!!!
My deodorant vaporizes instantly...gone...like I never put it on.
I can feel the sweat glands come to life on my head.
I swear I hear a sizzle.
I am instantly aggravated at the poor cashier and my sister too if I'm being honest.
These flashes make me so irritable.
I would almost call it a fight or flight reaction.
I felt that sense of momentary panic...like I wanted to leave the store that instant.
My sister claims to have never felt any menopause symptoms,
so in my mind, I punch her in the back of her head as I storm out of the store,
but I don't actually leave the store.
It's just in my imagination, a little fantasy, for those few minutes as I stand there
and roast to death in the hottest fucking store on Earth!
I feel like a limp dish rag.
Humidity while never any body's friend, is especially tortuous to me.
I can't seem to get away from it this summer.
I can't stop my head from sweating nor my hair from becoming flat.
Big life issues, right?
I told my hairdresser that I want short hair...pixie short.
She said I wouldn't like it.
I beg to differ.
I heard somewhere that every woman should know the freedom of having short hair once in their lifetime.
I am so ready for that freedom.
Personally, I'm rather sick of bitching about my hair on this blog of mine.
Again, I say Enough Already!!
Is it wrong to pray to Jesus to alleviate my menopausal symptoms?
Is it wrong to ask Him to give me courage and strength and cooler weather?
Is it wrong to say to Jesus "Enough already?"
Probably not.
Dear Jesus,
Enough already.
Enough with the hot flashes.
Enough with the sweating.
Enough with my judging of others.
Please help me deal with these things
in a different way.
Give me, grace, peace, forgiveness.
Give me cooler weather, less humidity.
Give me wisdom to stay indoors.
Give me words to say during small talk.
Give me more cute grandchildren.
Give me more of You.
Amen
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Writing it down
I do my best blog writing between the hours of midnight and 1:00 am when I can't sleep.
The words come together beautifully too.
The whole post from beginning to end reads like a professional wrote it.
At least in my mind it does.
Probably my worst habit is telling myself - I'll remember this in the morning.
Cuz I don't. Or won't. Remember that is.
Why don't I write this shit down?! I ask myself.
Dammit! That was a really good one too!
I've got no excuse. Other than being 51 and 3/4 years old.
And my powers of retention are gone.
I don't remember what I have had for lunch most days.
Ann Voskamp keeps an open notebook/journal on the kitchen counter.
In it she writes down all the things she's grateful for all day long.
In her book One Thousand Gifts she tells the story of her life being changed
by simply giving thanks to God for everything.
I do this too...I have for years, ever since I read her book.
But I don't leave the book open and flat on the counter.
Maybe I should start doing that.
Or at least leave a notebook and pen by the bedside,
So I can jot down thoughts, ideas or entire blog posts that I want to remember.
See, the thing is, I feel better when I write all this shit down.
Once it's on paper or on the blog, even if (when) I forget about it
I can go back and read it or reread it over and over again.
Sometimes I wow myself with what I have written in my journal.
I see a different person there in those words.
Someone capable, endearing, honest, hurting, real.
So, in the spirit of honesty, I'd like to say that my name isn't Lolly.
Sort of.
Lolly is the nickname my dad gave to me. I have no idea why.
Mom says when I was little I would tell him to stop calling me that.
I'd holler at him that "my name's not Lolly" or I wouldn't respond at all.
I'd give almost anything to hear him call me that again.
He died 18 years ago. Gosh I miss him!
My name is Valerie. And I am capable, endearing, honest, hurting and real.
I started blogging because I realized I had a need to write shit down.
I needed to write it down to process it. To feel it. To deal with it. To get it out.
I feel better when I write it out. And I'm tired of not being real.
I'm tired of writing what I consider to be cotton candy posts.
From now on I want it to be gritty, real, in your face stuff.
Stuff that I think we all deal with, stuff that we are all facing.
Or rather, stuff that I need to deal with and face.
I want to be brave when I do it.
And I'm asking you to help me be that big brave girl I know I can be.
I'm not asking for criticism and I certainly don't want to feel shame.
Can I ask you to bear with me as I bare all?
Well maybe not all really, but at least some of the stuff.
Would you be kind as I write my way through this?
Will you be understanding if my views are not the same as yours?
Will you forgive me if I go back to the cotton candy fluff stories-
Especially when it gets too hard and I want or need to back out?
Would you promise not to laugh at me, only with me?
Will you help me when I get stuck? Or help me to become unstuck?
Am I asking for too much? Am I asking too many questions?
I'm not computer or blog savvy.
In fact I'd like to change stuff about my blog page and I don't know how.
I'm afraid I'll lose some of my stuff on here if I make any changes.
So here's what I'm gonna do...I'll just go slowly.
I'll take my time with revamping the blog and with the writing and telling all.
You guys are ok with that, right?
I'll take my time so I get it right, so long as I get to write.
Wish me luck readers.
And as always thanks for reading.
The words come together beautifully too.
The whole post from beginning to end reads like a professional wrote it.
At least in my mind it does.
Probably my worst habit is telling myself - I'll remember this in the morning.
Cuz I don't. Or won't. Remember that is.
Why don't I write this shit down?! I ask myself.
Dammit! That was a really good one too!
I've got no excuse. Other than being 51 and 3/4 years old.
And my powers of retention are gone.
I don't remember what I have had for lunch most days.
Ann Voskamp keeps an open notebook/journal on the kitchen counter.
In it she writes down all the things she's grateful for all day long.
In her book One Thousand Gifts she tells the story of her life being changed
by simply giving thanks to God for everything.
I do this too...I have for years, ever since I read her book.
But I don't leave the book open and flat on the counter.
Maybe I should start doing that.
Or at least leave a notebook and pen by the bedside,
So I can jot down thoughts, ideas or entire blog posts that I want to remember.
See, the thing is, I feel better when I write all this shit down.
Once it's on paper or on the blog, even if (when) I forget about it
I can go back and read it or reread it over and over again.
Sometimes I wow myself with what I have written in my journal.
I see a different person there in those words.
Someone capable, endearing, honest, hurting, real.
So, in the spirit of honesty, I'd like to say that my name isn't Lolly.
Sort of.
Lolly is the nickname my dad gave to me. I have no idea why.
Mom says when I was little I would tell him to stop calling me that.
I'd holler at him that "my name's not Lolly" or I wouldn't respond at all.
I'd give almost anything to hear him call me that again.
He died 18 years ago. Gosh I miss him!
My name is Valerie. And I am capable, endearing, honest, hurting and real.
I started blogging because I realized I had a need to write shit down.
I needed to write it down to process it. To feel it. To deal with it. To get it out.
I feel better when I write it out. And I'm tired of not being real.
I'm tired of writing what I consider to be cotton candy posts.
From now on I want it to be gritty, real, in your face stuff.
Stuff that I think we all deal with, stuff that we are all facing.
Or rather, stuff that I need to deal with and face.
I want to be brave when I do it.
And I'm asking you to help me be that big brave girl I know I can be.
I'm not asking for criticism and I certainly don't want to feel shame.
Can I ask you to bear with me as I bare all?
Well maybe not all really, but at least some of the stuff.
Would you be kind as I write my way through this?
Will you be understanding if my views are not the same as yours?
Will you forgive me if I go back to the cotton candy fluff stories-
Especially when it gets too hard and I want or need to back out?
Would you promise not to laugh at me, only with me?
Will you help me when I get stuck? Or help me to become unstuck?
Am I asking for too much? Am I asking too many questions?
I'm not computer or blog savvy.
In fact I'd like to change stuff about my blog page and I don't know how.
I'm afraid I'll lose some of my stuff on here if I make any changes.
So here's what I'm gonna do...I'll just go slowly.
I'll take my time with revamping the blog and with the writing and telling all.
You guys are ok with that, right?
I'll take my time so I get it right, so long as I get to write.
Wish me luck readers.
And as always thanks for reading.
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
August
I don't write well or often.
Feels like I don't have much to say.
I find myself reading other blogs
and feeling as if a prayer has been answered
a prayer I hadn't known I was praying for.
I'm ok with the quietness over here
most of the time.
Just when I think I can't stand it a minute longer
I get a reply on my blog and it keeps me motivated..
to keep hen pecking at this key board of mine..
plucking out one sentence at a time.
Most days I have a running dialog in my head
of things that I should write down but often don't,
cuz I think I will remember later, but won't.
I listen to the absolute quiet in the house.
No grandkids coming today.
Dogs are sleeping.
Even the appliances are quiet.
The AC kicks on and it startles me...
How long have I've been sitting here
musing about the silence?
Pretty soon school will be in session.
Buses, cars, kids all making their presence known
as they pass by my house on their way to school.
Will I welcome the noise?
Will it put me at ease to hear the signs of life
infiltrating our quiet summer neighborhood?
I live three doors down from a christian high school.
One block further down is the public grade school.
A block past that is the public high school.
A block in the opposite direction leads to a preschool.
So, maybe now you understand why it is that I notice
the lack of noise and absolute stillness of my neighborhood.
I'm not used to it.
9 months outta the year I've got noise and activity swirling
in and around and through my yard and neighborhood.
Maybe August is trying to remind me that it's time is almost up.
School starts here in a week and a half.
The college kids are starting to pack up and move out.
My nephew will be leaving soon for Illinois State.
My grandson will start attending preschool 3 days a week.
The noise and the sounds will be returning to normal
and I wonder if it will make me feel better to
hear life and cars and buses pass by my window.
It's not that I feel unwell. I'm not even sad.
I just notice the stillness and the quiet.
When I look out my window, glancing up and down the street
I see no one. No walkers or bike riders.
No kids, no teenagers. No one.
I should be thankful for the quiet.
It has allowed me to scratch out this post.
Not that I've said much here worth writing about.
But, Hey! Thanks for reading anyway.
I'll catch up with you in September!
Here's a little something from Frederick Buechner...I think it fits perfectly-
Feels like I don't have much to say.
I find myself reading other blogs
and feeling as if a prayer has been answered
a prayer I hadn't known I was praying for.
I'm ok with the quietness over here
most of the time.
Just when I think I can't stand it a minute longer
I get a reply on my blog and it keeps me motivated..
to keep hen pecking at this key board of mine..
plucking out one sentence at a time.
Most days I have a running dialog in my head
of things that I should write down but often don't,
cuz I think I will remember later, but won't.
I listen to the absolute quiet in the house.
No grandkids coming today.
Dogs are sleeping.
Even the appliances are quiet.
The AC kicks on and it startles me...
How long have I've been sitting here
musing about the silence?
Pretty soon school will be in session.
Buses, cars, kids all making their presence known
as they pass by my house on their way to school.
Will I welcome the noise?
Will it put me at ease to hear the signs of life
infiltrating our quiet summer neighborhood?
I live three doors down from a christian high school.
One block further down is the public grade school.
A block past that is the public high school.
A block in the opposite direction leads to a preschool.
So, maybe now you understand why it is that I notice
the lack of noise and absolute stillness of my neighborhood.
I'm not used to it.
9 months outta the year I've got noise and activity swirling
in and around and through my yard and neighborhood.
Maybe August is trying to remind me that it's time is almost up.
School starts here in a week and a half.
The college kids are starting to pack up and move out.
My nephew will be leaving soon for Illinois State.
My grandson will start attending preschool 3 days a week.
The noise and the sounds will be returning to normal
and I wonder if it will make me feel better to
hear life and cars and buses pass by my window.
It's not that I feel unwell. I'm not even sad.
I just notice the stillness and the quiet.
When I look out my window, glancing up and down the street
I see no one. No walkers or bike riders.
No kids, no teenagers. No one.
I should be thankful for the quiet.
It has allowed me to scratch out this post.
Not that I've said much here worth writing about.
But, Hey! Thanks for reading anyway.
I'll catch up with you in September!
Here's a little something from Frederick Buechner...I think it fits perfectly-
Quote of the Day: Quiet
An empty room is silent. A room where people are not speaking or moving is quiet. Silence is a given, quiet a gift. Silence is the absence of sound and quiet the stilling of sound. Silence can't be anything but silent. Quiet chooses to be silent. It holds its breath to listen. It waits and is still.
"In returning and rest you shall be saved," says God through the prophet Isaiah, "in quietness and confidence shall be your strength" (Isaiah 30:15). They are all parts of each other. We return to our deep strength and to the confidence that lies beneath all our misgiving. The quiet there, the rest, is beyond the reach of the world to disturb. It is how being saved sounds.
~originally published in Whistling in the Dark and later in Beyond Words
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
Flirtin' with the devil
An atheist nephew and I had ugly words on Facebook.
He posted what I would call a baited post.
One of those posts with a picture and inflammatory words
that is designed to get a reaction from people.
I knew it was a baited. I knew it and I responded anyway.
That was my first mistake.
The second mistake I made was letting his heated response
to my original response get under my skin.
But his words came fast and ugly towards me and caught me off guard.
I had told him "Shame on you" for posting this to Facebook.
His response was to call me morally deficient and stupid
for believing in, in his words, "an impotent and evil god."
He went on for a few more paragraphs and ended his diatribe with
the words "Shame on You".
And I felt it...that shame that he heaped on me.
I wanted to retaliate with a few choice words of my own
but the thought popped into my brain that this is what he wanted.
He wanted to engage someone in a heated debate.
Why else would you want to post something so inflammatory
and so flagrant by a known atheist?
Pity me for the only fool who rose to the bait.
I will not be so easily fooled or tested again.
My nephews anger towards me rendered me speechless.
I didn't know how to defend myself or the God I love and believe in.
Isn't that horrible?
I know better than to get into a debate with this kid.
He's brilliantly smart... freakishly so.
He's a nuclear physicist or some such thing at NASA,
he's 30 years old and he's been angry at God his whole life.
I normally steer clear of him.
How horrible is that??
Avoiding my own nephew because he feels toxic to me.
This isn't or wasn't my first encounter with him RE: God.
So, yeah, maybe shame on me for engaging with him over Facebook.
I wonder if the devil made me do it.
I'm confused as to why most atheists seem so angry all the time.
The God I love and worship and believe in makes me happy.
HE brings me so much peace and serenity.
I don't want to fight and argue over what you choose to not believe in.
Life is all about choices. You make yours and I'll make mine.
But I still feel like I need to defend myself against that stupid FB post!
The atheist talks about sick and dying children and their parents.
How millions of children suffer and die each year
While their parents prayers go unanswered.
The atheist wants to know how can we worship a God that
lets children die?
And that's what hit my sore spot.
I don't feel like God killed my child.
I don't feel like God let my child die.
I don't blame God for taking her from me.
I don't blame God for letting my sister die.
I don't blame Him for killing my father or my grandparents.
How do you accuse God of causing death and heartache and suffering
and in the next breath say you don't believe in Him at all?
See what I mean ?
That is essentially why I feel that that FB post was baited.
And I am truly sorry that I allowed myself to get all riled up about it.
I'm sorry that I ever responded to it.
I wish I had prayed instead.
I wish I had prayed for that atheist and for my nephew.
I wish I had prayed for myself to not be tempted.
I wish I had prayed to God to give me peace in that moment.
To close my eyes, help me to take a deep breath, and to let it go.
As long as I continue to wallow in this, the devil wins.
So I'm letting it go today.
My God,
I beg your forgiveness for not knowing how to defend myself
against another persons anger and beliefs.
I beg you and thank you for your Grace that covers all of my sins.
Be with me today, as I let this thing go.
Grant me the peace that I am looking for, a peace I know I can find in you.
Help me as I learn to share You with others in a peaceful, loving way.
Amen.
He posted what I would call a baited post.
One of those posts with a picture and inflammatory words
that is designed to get a reaction from people.
I knew it was a baited. I knew it and I responded anyway.
That was my first mistake.
The second mistake I made was letting his heated response
to my original response get under my skin.
But his words came fast and ugly towards me and caught me off guard.
I had told him "Shame on you" for posting this to Facebook.
His response was to call me morally deficient and stupid
for believing in, in his words, "an impotent and evil god."
He went on for a few more paragraphs and ended his diatribe with
the words "Shame on You".
And I felt it...that shame that he heaped on me.
I wanted to retaliate with a few choice words of my own
but the thought popped into my brain that this is what he wanted.
He wanted to engage someone in a heated debate.
Why else would you want to post something so inflammatory
and so flagrant by a known atheist?
Pity me for the only fool who rose to the bait.
I will not be so easily fooled or tested again.
My nephews anger towards me rendered me speechless.
I didn't know how to defend myself or the God I love and believe in.
Isn't that horrible?
I know better than to get into a debate with this kid.
He's brilliantly smart... freakishly so.
He's a nuclear physicist or some such thing at NASA,
he's 30 years old and he's been angry at God his whole life.
I normally steer clear of him.
How horrible is that??
Avoiding my own nephew because he feels toxic to me.
This isn't or wasn't my first encounter with him RE: God.
So, yeah, maybe shame on me for engaging with him over Facebook.
I wonder if the devil made me do it.
I'm confused as to why most atheists seem so angry all the time.
The God I love and worship and believe in makes me happy.
HE brings me so much peace and serenity.
I don't want to fight and argue over what you choose to not believe in.
Life is all about choices. You make yours and I'll make mine.
But I still feel like I need to defend myself against that stupid FB post!
The atheist talks about sick and dying children and their parents.
How millions of children suffer and die each year
While their parents prayers go unanswered.
The atheist wants to know how can we worship a God that
lets children die?
And that's what hit my sore spot.
I don't feel like God killed my child.
I don't feel like God let my child die.
I don't blame God for taking her from me.
I don't blame God for letting my sister die.
I don't blame Him for killing my father or my grandparents.
How do you accuse God of causing death and heartache and suffering
and in the next breath say you don't believe in Him at all?
See what I mean ?
That is essentially why I feel that that FB post was baited.
And I am truly sorry that I allowed myself to get all riled up about it.
I'm sorry that I ever responded to it.
I wish I had prayed instead.
I wish I had prayed for that atheist and for my nephew.
I wish I had prayed for myself to not be tempted.
I wish I had prayed to God to give me peace in that moment.
To close my eyes, help me to take a deep breath, and to let it go.
As long as I continue to wallow in this, the devil wins.
So I'm letting it go today.
My God,
I beg your forgiveness for not knowing how to defend myself
against another persons anger and beliefs.
I beg you and thank you for your Grace that covers all of my sins.
Be with me today, as I let this thing go.
Grant me the peace that I am looking for, a peace I know I can find in you.
Help me as I learn to share You with others in a peaceful, loving way.
Amen.
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
Again?!? For shits sake.
I don't want this blog to be about sickness...again
but Alas, it must, for now.
Or at least (hopefully) only one. more. post.
It is what I write about, I know, quite a bit of the time.
But what do you write about except what you live with?
I contracted some sorta virus.
It's not strep, but it hurts like a muther to swallow. Or talk.
I can barely drink liquids...am drinking scalding hot tea mostly.
Ice water too. And Popsicles.
Wish I was a sword swallower.
Then I could tip my head back and insert that orange Popsicle
straight down to cool the burn in my throat.
Fever, horrific body aches, dizziness.
Today is day 5 of having this virus
Yesterday I developed tiny blisters on my hands.
So...lemme see here.
I cannot eat. I cannot talk very well. My hands burn and itch.
My body temp switches between sweating and freezing.
It almost feels like a message from God. Almost.
If one cannot eat, one cannot keep stuffing in the fattening stuff, can one?
If one cannot talk, one cannot contribute to gossipy conversations or
snap at one's spouse for folding the towels "the wrong way", correct?
If one's hands burn and itch...hmmm....I got nuthin' for this symptom.
If one is too dizzy to drive to the store, one cannot spend money on crap.
Maybe I'm looking too far into this or maybe it's the fever talking.
I must be getting better tho, right?? If I'm able to be pissed at him
for not doing the dishes the way that I do??
Not really pissed, per se....... but I did feel it needed mentioning.
I've not done a thing since Saturday at 10:00 am when this virus hit me.
And it shows in my house.
To me...it shows to me.
On one of my bleary, feverish trips to the bathroom, I saw him
rifling thru the laundry hamper....effectively blocking my entrance
to said bathroom. Whatcha doin'? I croaked
Laundry he replied.
Then why are you digging to the bottom of the hamper? I ask.
I'm looking for my work clothes, so I can do my laundry, he says.
Did ya get that? "My laundry" he said.
He was only washing HIS stuff. HIS STUFF!!!
I didn't at that moment even know how to process that.
It would hit me later.
Today, when I got up, I found one side of the kitchen sink
full of dirty dishes and empty recyclable containers
while the other side of the sink held one clean frying pan.
The counters were sticky, not having been wiped down
(I'm guessing here) since Saturday at 10:00 am???
The house reeked of dog piss and a kitchen garbage can
that hadn't been taken out since...oh never mind.
The cat was rubbing hisself on my legs, trying to get my attention.
I was afraid to see what the litter box looked like.
I was right to be afraid and I apologized to the cat for my being sick.
I found two baskets of clean??? laundry wrinkled beyond redemption.
And about 7 more loads strewn about the house, over chairs, on tables,
from the floor on his side of the bed and from the already overflowing bathroom hamper.
He mentions to me that he has done 5 loads of laundry....
I don't believe him.
I see no evidence of it except for the 2 badly wrinkled baskets
still sitting and wrinkling in the middle of the kitchen floor,
one of which was the load I had left in the dryer on Friday.
So 5 loads? No. You didn't.
The bathroom garbage can is undetectable under a mound of tissues
and assorted whatnot that usually goes into a bathroom receptacle.
The sink....UGH! The sink!! I will not explain.
I will not mention the horror called a commode.
How does a grown man NOT see this filth?
How does he walk past it and not grab this or that to throw it away?
How does he get up in the middle of the night to pee
and not trip over or get his feet tangled up in the tiny mountain
of dirty socks and belts and yesterdays jeans that have been left there?
Does he not see it?? Smell it??
Is he waiting for me to get well to see it?
Does he want me to know that he suffered whilst I was sick?
Is he trying to make me feel like I have job security?
Nobody can clean as good as you, Hon.
Tsk.
I want to write about Jesus-y things.
I want to write about how I see Him throughout my day.
What I perceive to be Him trying to get my attention.
In truth, I see Him everywhere. I hear Him everywhere.
Little signs alert me to His presence. All. Day. Long.
A bird singing, or the wind thru the trees, or in song lyrics that I hear.
In a grandchild's eyes, in a newly bloomed Hollyhock plant.
A strangers smile, thunder & lightening, rain, sunshine.
I don't see Jesus in 7 loads of dirty laundry, a sink of dirty dishes,
Or a bathroom that needs to be replaced...Yes, replaced.
(Let's just get a new one..it'll probably be easier than cleaning this one.)
So maybe that's what He's showing me.
That He can be everywhere, anywhere he chooses to be.
That He can show Himself to me through all of the good in my life
and also through all of the not so good...the illness and the dirt.
Day 5 finds me swallowing just a tad easier.
The fever is gone as are the body aches.
That mountain of laundry remains to be cleaned as does that bathroom....yikes.
Dishes were done (by him!) before he went to work, bless his heart.
Whaddya say Lord? Wanna meet me there? You can pick.
You want to meet me at the laundry mountain or in that defiled bathroom?
Tell ya what....I'll look closely for You in both places.
but Alas, it must, for now.
Or at least (hopefully) only one. more. post.
It is what I write about, I know, quite a bit of the time.
But what do you write about except what you live with?
I contracted some sorta virus.
It's not strep, but it hurts like a muther to swallow. Or talk.
I can barely drink liquids...am drinking scalding hot tea mostly.
Ice water too. And Popsicles.
Wish I was a sword swallower.
Then I could tip my head back and insert that orange Popsicle
straight down to cool the burn in my throat.
Fever, horrific body aches, dizziness.
Today is day 5 of having this virus
Yesterday I developed tiny blisters on my hands.
So...lemme see here.
I cannot eat. I cannot talk very well. My hands burn and itch.
My body temp switches between sweating and freezing.
It almost feels like a message from God. Almost.
If one cannot eat, one cannot keep stuffing in the fattening stuff, can one?
If one cannot talk, one cannot contribute to gossipy conversations or
snap at one's spouse for folding the towels "the wrong way", correct?
If one's hands burn and itch...hmmm....I got nuthin' for this symptom.
If one is too dizzy to drive to the store, one cannot spend money on crap.
Maybe I'm looking too far into this or maybe it's the fever talking.
I must be getting better tho, right?? If I'm able to be pissed at him
for not doing the dishes the way that I do??
Not really pissed, per se....... but I did feel it needed mentioning.
I've not done a thing since Saturday at 10:00 am when this virus hit me.
And it shows in my house.
To me...it shows to me.
On one of my bleary, feverish trips to the bathroom, I saw him
rifling thru the laundry hamper....effectively blocking my entrance
to said bathroom. Whatcha doin'? I croaked
Laundry he replied.
Then why are you digging to the bottom of the hamper? I ask.
I'm looking for my work clothes, so I can do my laundry, he says.
Did ya get that? "My laundry" he said.
He was only washing HIS stuff. HIS STUFF!!!
I didn't at that moment even know how to process that.
It would hit me later.
Today, when I got up, I found one side of the kitchen sink
full of dirty dishes and empty recyclable containers
while the other side of the sink held one clean frying pan.
The counters were sticky, not having been wiped down
(I'm guessing here) since Saturday at 10:00 am???
The house reeked of dog piss and a kitchen garbage can
that hadn't been taken out since...oh never mind.
The cat was rubbing hisself on my legs, trying to get my attention.
I was afraid to see what the litter box looked like.
I was right to be afraid and I apologized to the cat for my being sick.
I found two baskets of clean??? laundry wrinkled beyond redemption.
And about 7 more loads strewn about the house, over chairs, on tables,
from the floor on his side of the bed and from the already overflowing bathroom hamper.
He mentions to me that he has done 5 loads of laundry....
I don't believe him.
I see no evidence of it except for the 2 badly wrinkled baskets
still sitting and wrinkling in the middle of the kitchen floor,
one of which was the load I had left in the dryer on Friday.
So 5 loads? No. You didn't.
The bathroom garbage can is undetectable under a mound of tissues
and assorted whatnot that usually goes into a bathroom receptacle.
The sink....UGH! The sink!! I will not explain.
I will not mention the horror called a commode.
How does a grown man NOT see this filth?
How does he walk past it and not grab this or that to throw it away?
How does he get up in the middle of the night to pee
and not trip over or get his feet tangled up in the tiny mountain
of dirty socks and belts and yesterdays jeans that have been left there?
Does he not see it?? Smell it??
Is he waiting for me to get well to see it?
Does he want me to know that he suffered whilst I was sick?
Is he trying to make me feel like I have job security?
Nobody can clean as good as you, Hon.
Tsk.
I want to write about Jesus-y things.
I want to write about how I see Him throughout my day.
What I perceive to be Him trying to get my attention.
In truth, I see Him everywhere. I hear Him everywhere.
Little signs alert me to His presence. All. Day. Long.
A bird singing, or the wind thru the trees, or in song lyrics that I hear.
In a grandchild's eyes, in a newly bloomed Hollyhock plant.
A strangers smile, thunder & lightening, rain, sunshine.
I don't see Jesus in 7 loads of dirty laundry, a sink of dirty dishes,
Or a bathroom that needs to be replaced...Yes, replaced.
(Let's just get a new one..it'll probably be easier than cleaning this one.)
So maybe that's what He's showing me.
That He can be everywhere, anywhere he chooses to be.
That He can show Himself to me through all of the good in my life
and also through all of the not so good...the illness and the dirt.
Day 5 finds me swallowing just a tad easier.
The fever is gone as are the body aches.
That mountain of laundry remains to be cleaned as does that bathroom....yikes.
Dishes were done (by him!) before he went to work, bless his heart.
Whaddya say Lord? Wanna meet me there? You can pick.
You want to meet me at the laundry mountain or in that defiled bathroom?
Tell ya what....I'll look closely for You in both places.
Saturday, June 21, 2014
Yesterday
Yesterday my hair turned out great....Great!
So great that I thought to myself...Hey! Where is that cute matching necklace and earring set?
Wouldn't that go perfect with this shirt and my perfect, perfect hair?
Yesterday it also rained most of the day.
Tsk...What good is perfect hair in the rain?
Today, I struggled to put every. single. one. of. my. bangs into its rightful place.
It's humid as hell from all the rain yesterday and my hair didn't work at all.
Some days I admit that I would like to find the missing electric dog shears
and do away with these offending locks once and for all.
Most days I realize how trivial this all sounds.
Really? Bad and good hair days?
That's what you blog about ....hair?!
I blog about my life.
I realize that my life is no worse off or better off than anybody else's.
It's MY take on it that gives it any meaning I suppose.
Now, mind you, I'm not really all that upset over the fact that my hair didn't work today.
But I'm trying to piece something together here.
Yesterday, the neighbor boy tried to lure my 4 year old grandson to the hidden side of their house, which is out of my range of vision. When I yelled at my grandson that he-
"COULD.NOT.GO.WHERE.GRANNY.CAN'T.SEE.YOU" he pitched a fit.
And started to disobey me by heading over to the hidden side.
Naughty neighbor boy was taunting my grandson by calling and calling and calling his name.
When the naughty neighbor boy finally came around the corner of the hidden side of that house he held in both of his hands a large rock.
Now when I say large rock, I mean small boulder. It was larger than a 16" softball.
Naughty neighbor boy has anger and behavioral issues, is 6 years old, is being raised by his Aunt and he has a Mama who prefers her crack pipe to her boy.
He has in the past tried to hit my grandson over the head with a plastic (under the bed sized) toy box.
Now, I ain't stupid. I know this boy has some issues.
Which is why I NEVER let my grandson play with him out of my sight ever.
But the sight of that rock made me want to throw up.
And I wondered to myself if I was making more outta this than there really was.
But I couldn't stop picturing in my head what could have happened with that rock.
To say I was upset is putting it mildly.
If I am remembering correctly, some of the first words outta my mouth were
Big and Fucking and Rock.
Naughty boys Uncle came running when he heard me yelling.
After that the uncle made naughty boy go inside.
I took the grand kids for a walk around the block.
On the block behind us, there lives a friend of mine and her three boys, ages 5, 3 and 1.
I stop to let the kids play for a bit and tell her my story about the boy and the rock.
Before I'm even finished she says "That makes me feel sick".
So was I making more of it than I should have?
Was it just the thought in my head that made it so much worse?
Should I have waited for the rock to do damage before I made a mountain outta a mole hill?
Should I not have swore out loud so loudly??
In the blink of an eye, my grandsons life, naughty boys life, my life, could have been altered forever.
And my point is this...
Do I want to be the kind of person who worries about what her hair looks like?
Do I want to be the kind of person who imagines the worst case scenario of what might have been?
Do I want to be the kind of person who talks to a neighbor about a naughty boy with issues?
Maybe....No....and it depends.
It scared the begeezus out a me, if you want the honest to God truth.
I think naughty boy is truly capable of harming another kid.
I'm thinking that I need to rethink any thought I have of these 2 ever playing together again.
Life can change in the blink of an eye.
Life can change with the tossing of a stone.
Life can change with a walk around the block.
I'm thinking that I need to worry less about my hair.
So great that I thought to myself...Hey! Where is that cute matching necklace and earring set?
Wouldn't that go perfect with this shirt and my perfect, perfect hair?
Yesterday it also rained most of the day.
Tsk...What good is perfect hair in the rain?
Today, I struggled to put every. single. one. of. my. bangs into its rightful place.
It's humid as hell from all the rain yesterday and my hair didn't work at all.
Some days I admit that I would like to find the missing electric dog shears
and do away with these offending locks once and for all.
Most days I realize how trivial this all sounds.
Really? Bad and good hair days?
That's what you blog about ....hair?!
I blog about my life.
I realize that my life is no worse off or better off than anybody else's.
It's MY take on it that gives it any meaning I suppose.
Now, mind you, I'm not really all that upset over the fact that my hair didn't work today.
But I'm trying to piece something together here.
Yesterday, the neighbor boy tried to lure my 4 year old grandson to the hidden side of their house, which is out of my range of vision. When I yelled at my grandson that he-
"COULD.NOT.GO.WHERE.GRANNY.CAN'T.SEE.YOU" he pitched a fit.
And started to disobey me by heading over to the hidden side.
Naughty neighbor boy was taunting my grandson by calling and calling and calling his name.
When the naughty neighbor boy finally came around the corner of the hidden side of that house he held in both of his hands a large rock.
Now when I say large rock, I mean small boulder. It was larger than a 16" softball.
Naughty neighbor boy has anger and behavioral issues, is 6 years old, is being raised by his Aunt and he has a Mama who prefers her crack pipe to her boy.
He has in the past tried to hit my grandson over the head with a plastic (under the bed sized) toy box.
Now, I ain't stupid. I know this boy has some issues.
Which is why I NEVER let my grandson play with him out of my sight ever.
But the sight of that rock made me want to throw up.
And I wondered to myself if I was making more outta this than there really was.
But I couldn't stop picturing in my head what could have happened with that rock.
To say I was upset is putting it mildly.
If I am remembering correctly, some of the first words outta my mouth were
Big and Fucking and Rock.
Naughty boys Uncle came running when he heard me yelling.
After that the uncle made naughty boy go inside.
I took the grand kids for a walk around the block.
On the block behind us, there lives a friend of mine and her three boys, ages 5, 3 and 1.
I stop to let the kids play for a bit and tell her my story about the boy and the rock.
Before I'm even finished she says "That makes me feel sick".
So was I making more of it than I should have?
Was it just the thought in my head that made it so much worse?
Should I have waited for the rock to do damage before I made a mountain outta a mole hill?
Should I not have swore out loud so loudly??
In the blink of an eye, my grandsons life, naughty boys life, my life, could have been altered forever.
And my point is this...
Do I want to be the kind of person who worries about what her hair looks like?
Do I want to be the kind of person who imagines the worst case scenario of what might have been?
Do I want to be the kind of person who talks to a neighbor about a naughty boy with issues?
Maybe....No....and it depends.
It scared the begeezus out a me, if you want the honest to God truth.
I think naughty boy is truly capable of harming another kid.
I'm thinking that I need to rethink any thought I have of these 2 ever playing together again.
Life can change in the blink of an eye.
Life can change with the tossing of a stone.
Life can change with a walk around the block.
I'm thinking that I need to worry less about my hair.
Saturday, June 14, 2014
Life in the Garden
I read this blog today and something about it resonated with me.
It was the last sentence about new life being breathed into her spirit thru her garden.
I marveled at her ability to see the yellow abdomen on that spider
and call it gorgeous, and then to say thanks to it for helping keep her garden safe.
I also don't kill bugs and spiders that live outside of my home.
After all, they need to live somewhere. And they are good for the garden.
But I've never ever had the thought to say thanks to any of them for what they do
or taken the time to see anything beautiful or gorgeous about their colors.
Bugs creep me out. They just do. There's usually an EEK coming outta my mouth when one of them makes their presence known to me.
What I liked was that her garden was breathing new life into her spirit.
As I watch my gardens come back to life, especially after the winter we had,
I can feel something coming back to life in me too.
There is a happiness that pervades me all day long. A lift to my spirit.
I can feel it deep in my bones.
I can feel it deep in my bones because I knew it was missing.
Only I didn't know it was missing until it came back.
That's when I realized that a part of me had gone missing for quite a while.
That's when I realized that perhaps Birdie's black dog had been wintering in my back yard.
It's strange though.....I only realized he had been there after he had gone.
Was it S.A.D.? I've never had it before.
Was it true depression? I don't know cuz I've never had that before either.
Once it had lifted, I realized how heavy it had been to carry.
Does that make sense?
Whatever...it's how it felt to me.
I feel lighter, happier, more content.
I like the feeling of something coming back to life inside of me.
Kinda like my gardens coming back to life.
I like the smell of the earth, the dirt, the soil and mud.
I like putting a plant in the ground and watching it blossom into something beautiful.
I like pulling weeds. I like putting together my container gardens for my porch.
I like buying flats of flowers and placing each flower in what ends up being the perfect spot.
And while I am aware that I am not doing a blessed thing towards alleviating
World hunger or child trafficking or guns and violence or war...
I am doing what I know I need to do to in order to bring a little happy into my world.
By beautifying my little corner of it.
I don't mean to be flip. I'm not out to try and save this world. Only God can do that.
And Birdie, I mean no disrespect by assuming that it was your black dog in my yard.
But something was keeping me from feeling the joy in life.
And something about being in my garden has brought it back.
Maybe it's the new life I see growing around me.
Maybe it's the feeling of the Sun on my face and back and arms.
Maybe it's my hands in the dirt, knees to the ground.
Maybe it's the birds that I hear singing.
Maybe it's the Vitamin D pills working their way into my system.
Whatever it is, I'm soaking it up, absorbing what I can thru sound, sight, touch and smell.
Life in my garden is bringing me back to life.
Sorry, but no black dogs allowed.
It was the last sentence about new life being breathed into her spirit thru her garden.
I marveled at her ability to see the yellow abdomen on that spider
and call it gorgeous, and then to say thanks to it for helping keep her garden safe.
I also don't kill bugs and spiders that live outside of my home.
After all, they need to live somewhere. And they are good for the garden.
But I've never ever had the thought to say thanks to any of them for what they do
or taken the time to see anything beautiful or gorgeous about their colors.
Bugs creep me out. They just do. There's usually an EEK coming outta my mouth when one of them makes their presence known to me.
What I liked was that her garden was breathing new life into her spirit.
As I watch my gardens come back to life, especially after the winter we had,
I can feel something coming back to life in me too.
There is a happiness that pervades me all day long. A lift to my spirit.
I can feel it deep in my bones.
I can feel it deep in my bones because I knew it was missing.
Only I didn't know it was missing until it came back.
That's when I realized that a part of me had gone missing for quite a while.
That's when I realized that perhaps Birdie's black dog had been wintering in my back yard.
It's strange though.....I only realized he had been there after he had gone.
Was it S.A.D.? I've never had it before.
Was it true depression? I don't know cuz I've never had that before either.
Once it had lifted, I realized how heavy it had been to carry.
Does that make sense?
Whatever...it's how it felt to me.
I feel lighter, happier, more content.
I like the feeling of something coming back to life inside of me.
Kinda like my gardens coming back to life.
I like the smell of the earth, the dirt, the soil and mud.
I like putting a plant in the ground and watching it blossom into something beautiful.
I like pulling weeds. I like putting together my container gardens for my porch.
I like buying flats of flowers and placing each flower in what ends up being the perfect spot.
And while I am aware that I am not doing a blessed thing towards alleviating
World hunger or child trafficking or guns and violence or war...
I am doing what I know I need to do to in order to bring a little happy into my world.
By beautifying my little corner of it.
I don't mean to be flip. I'm not out to try and save this world. Only God can do that.
And Birdie, I mean no disrespect by assuming that it was your black dog in my yard.
But something was keeping me from feeling the joy in life.
And something about being in my garden has brought it back.
Maybe it's the new life I see growing around me.
Maybe it's the feeling of the Sun on my face and back and arms.
Maybe it's my hands in the dirt, knees to the ground.
Maybe it's the birds that I hear singing.
Maybe it's the Vitamin D pills working their way into my system.
Whatever it is, I'm soaking it up, absorbing what I can thru sound, sight, touch and smell.
Life in my garden is bringing me back to life.
Sorry, but no black dogs allowed.
Sunday, June 8, 2014
June
How does the time fly by so fast??
It's June!
My last post was in May.
I blinked and here it is June already.
Summer weather is here.
It's sunny and hot.
We could use some rain.
I've not even planted my gardens yet.
I'd best get on that.
I'm still here, just a little preoccupied.
Wish I could find the time to post more.
With it being Summer and all tho,
I don't think that is gonna happen.
I'll check in when I can.
I feel like I've got a gazillion things
that I want to tell you.
Stay with me friends....I'll be back.
It's June!
My last post was in May.
I blinked and here it is June already.
Summer weather is here.
It's sunny and hot.
We could use some rain.
I've not even planted my gardens yet.
I'd best get on that.
I'm still here, just a little preoccupied.
Wish I could find the time to post more.
With it being Summer and all tho,
I don't think that is gonna happen.
I'll check in when I can.
I feel like I've got a gazillion things
that I want to tell you.
Stay with me friends....I'll be back.
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Tooth pain
Had an emergency DDS visit this past Friday.
I need a root canal....tsk...when don't I ?
I hate my teeth.
This is my 6th root canal.
What the hell??
So I go for the consultation on Monday.
DDS can't do a root canal.
The tooth is broken up into the nerve
(I told ya it hurt!)
Need to have it pulled and a bone graft done
So I can get a dental implant at a later date.
Normally I freak out at dental procedures
(Big surprise to you all, I know)
But this time I'm in too much pain.
I just want it done and over with.
I go to the oral surgeon tomorrow.
I'm having them put me out mainly cuz I'm afraid
that the tooth will break more when they try to pull it.
I'm looking forward to being pain free.
This tooth has bothered me for quite a while.
I'll check in later. Thanks for reading.
I need a root canal....tsk...when don't I ?
I hate my teeth.
This is my 6th root canal.
What the hell??
So I go for the consultation on Monday.
DDS can't do a root canal.
The tooth is broken up into the nerve
(I told ya it hurt!)
Need to have it pulled and a bone graft done
So I can get a dental implant at a later date.
Normally I freak out at dental procedures
(Big surprise to you all, I know)
But this time I'm in too much pain.
I just want it done and over with.
I go to the oral surgeon tomorrow.
I'm having them put me out mainly cuz I'm afraid
that the tooth will break more when they try to pull it.
I'm looking forward to being pain free.
This tooth has bothered me for quite a while.
I'll check in later. Thanks for reading.
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Relief
I'm afraid to look up my symptoms on the Internet.
I'm afraid of what I might find...
"OMG, Yes, those are my symptoms!"
But I ache.
In my bones.
My very bones ache.
It's hard to walk with the grand kids around the block.
I'm tired.
Exhausted tired.
Falling asleep watching cartoons tired.
Needing to drink coffee in the late afternoon
Just to keep myself awake until dinner tired.
My thinking is fuzzy.
It's hard to concentrate and remember things.
I feel depressed and cranky.
I feel stuck in my journey.
I am going nowhere and I am bored.
I cannot concentrate, so it's hard to read.
I feel blah and it's hard to get motivated.
My gums bleed when I brush my teeth.
My hands are numb...burning and numb.
My knees ache and I have red, itchy patches on them.
My sleep is being interrupted and I don't know why.
But once I am awake, I stay that way even if it's 3:00 am.
The Dr. gives me a check up.
She does not seem alarmed.
Draws my blood; will run some tests.
I will wait 3 days for results.
I'm too tired to worry really.
What bothers me most is the ache deep in my bones.
Why do my bones ache?
Shin bones ache the most. And the bones in my feet.
It hurts to wear my gym shoes.
I don't look up the symptoms on WebMD, tho I want to.
I think it's bone cancer.
Maybe it has metastasized to my brain?
Why else would I have such muddled thinking?
Why else would I be sooo friggin tired all the time?
Why else would my bones ache down to the very marrow in them?
Vitamin D Deficiency that's why.
Simple blood test done and it reveals that I have a level of 17.
Normal is 50-130.
And all of those symptoms I have are part of it.
I am put on Vitamin D supplements for the next 8 months.
And I am relieved.
When did I become such a hypochondriac??
Maybe that's a little harsh but that is how I feel.
Why did I assume that it was cancer?
Why did I not assume that it was something easily treatable??
Why go for the bad thought right away??
Why is it so much easier to believe that it's bad news?
I will learn to treat myself gently.
I will allow my body to heal.
I will not push myself past what I, what it, can bear.
I will not feel guilty for needing to rest well and often.
I will have compassion for myself and
I will treat myself with the kindness that I offer to others.
Thank you God for each moment.
I will try and not fritter away my days by excess worry.
Teach me to rest in You.
Amen
I'm afraid of what I might find...
"OMG, Yes, those are my symptoms!"
But I ache.
In my bones.
My very bones ache.
It's hard to walk with the grand kids around the block.
I'm tired.
Exhausted tired.
Falling asleep watching cartoons tired.
Needing to drink coffee in the late afternoon
Just to keep myself awake until dinner tired.
My thinking is fuzzy.
It's hard to concentrate and remember things.
I feel depressed and cranky.
I feel stuck in my journey.
I am going nowhere and I am bored.
I cannot concentrate, so it's hard to read.
I feel blah and it's hard to get motivated.
My gums bleed when I brush my teeth.
My hands are numb...burning and numb.
My knees ache and I have red, itchy patches on them.
My sleep is being interrupted and I don't know why.
But once I am awake, I stay that way even if it's 3:00 am.
The Dr. gives me a check up.
She does not seem alarmed.
Draws my blood; will run some tests.
I will wait 3 days for results.
I'm too tired to worry really.
What bothers me most is the ache deep in my bones.
Why do my bones ache?
Shin bones ache the most. And the bones in my feet.
It hurts to wear my gym shoes.
I don't look up the symptoms on WebMD, tho I want to.
I think it's bone cancer.
Maybe it has metastasized to my brain?
Why else would I have such muddled thinking?
Why else would I be sooo friggin tired all the time?
Why else would my bones ache down to the very marrow in them?
Vitamin D Deficiency that's why.
Simple blood test done and it reveals that I have a level of 17.
Normal is 50-130.
And all of those symptoms I have are part of it.
I am put on Vitamin D supplements for the next 8 months.
And I am relieved.
When did I become such a hypochondriac??
Maybe that's a little harsh but that is how I feel.
Why did I assume that it was cancer?
Why did I not assume that it was something easily treatable??
Why go for the bad thought right away??
Why is it so much easier to believe that it's bad news?
I will learn to treat myself gently.
I will allow my body to heal.
I will not push myself past what I, what it, can bear.
I will not feel guilty for needing to rest well and often.
I will have compassion for myself and
I will treat myself with the kindness that I offer to others.
Thank you God for each moment.
I will try and not fritter away my days by excess worry.
Teach me to rest in You.
Amen
Saturday, April 19, 2014
Good Friday
Dropped a glass bottle of blueberry syrup.
It crashed on the floor into a purple puddle
with shards of glass and sticky bits of fruit.
Try cleaning that up!
It ruined the fur lined moccasins that were on my feet.
Splashed itself up the calf of my left leg staining my sweats.
Cut myself on a piece of glass too small to see cuz it was
covered in sticky purple goo.
The syrup was expired anyway so I'm not mourning the loss of it.
My moccasins were old and worn too...
it gave me a good excuse to toss them in the trash
along with half a roll of paper towels
that didn't work very well at cleaning up the mess.
One dog had bloody diarrhea this morning
on the living room floor.
(While I am typing that last sentence, a man
comes to the front door with his dog in tow, asking me
for a plastic garbage bag so he can clean up the mess
his dog left in my yard a moment ago.
He tells me that his dog has blood in her stool
and he needs to take her to the Vet. Wow, really?????
He also asks me for a cigarette.
When I tell him that I don't smoke
he glances down at the ground, with his eyebrow raised,
at a shit load of cigarette butts littering the sidewalk.
Thanks alot, Hon. This stranger thinks I am a liar.)
Yesterday my 4 year old grandson had bathroom issues
to the tune of 7 pairs of undies that needed changing.
His 1 year old sister pee'd thru her only clean outfit
during her nap.
The first outfit got ruined when I let her feed herself spaghetti for lunch.
Which meant washing undies, sheets, baby clothes
and my hands to the point of rawness.
I used so much bleach that my finger nails are WHITE at the tips.
My daughter with the newborn grandson
doesn't want to come to Easter with the entire family
cuz she's afraid the baby will catch something.
The 4 year old and the 1 year old have Spring colds.
Since I am the babysitter of said grandchildren
guess who is also suffering from that cold??
So I sorta get it...her wanting to stay at home...I do...but still...
My sister and her entire family (10 of them)
left for a Florida vacation 6 hours ago.
I am trying to be happy for her....it's hard.
I could use a vacation myself.
Do I sound ungrateful? Whiny? Jealous? Tired?
Yep.
I'll work on that today.
It crashed on the floor into a purple puddle
with shards of glass and sticky bits of fruit.
Try cleaning that up!
It ruined the fur lined moccasins that were on my feet.
Splashed itself up the calf of my left leg staining my sweats.
Cut myself on a piece of glass too small to see cuz it was
covered in sticky purple goo.
The syrup was expired anyway so I'm not mourning the loss of it.
My moccasins were old and worn too...
it gave me a good excuse to toss them in the trash
along with half a roll of paper towels
that didn't work very well at cleaning up the mess.
One dog had bloody diarrhea this morning
on the living room floor.
(While I am typing that last sentence, a man
comes to the front door with his dog in tow, asking me
for a plastic garbage bag so he can clean up the mess
his dog left in my yard a moment ago.
He tells me that his dog has blood in her stool
and he needs to take her to the Vet. Wow, really?????
He also asks me for a cigarette.
When I tell him that I don't smoke
he glances down at the ground, with his eyebrow raised,
at a shit load of cigarette butts littering the sidewalk.
Thanks alot, Hon. This stranger thinks I am a liar.)
Yesterday my 4 year old grandson had bathroom issues
to the tune of 7 pairs of undies that needed changing.
His 1 year old sister pee'd thru her only clean outfit
during her nap.
The first outfit got ruined when I let her feed herself spaghetti for lunch.
Which meant washing undies, sheets, baby clothes
and my hands to the point of rawness.
I used so much bleach that my finger nails are WHITE at the tips.
My daughter with the newborn grandson
doesn't want to come to Easter with the entire family
cuz she's afraid the baby will catch something.
The 4 year old and the 1 year old have Spring colds.
Since I am the babysitter of said grandchildren
guess who is also suffering from that cold??
So I sorta get it...her wanting to stay at home...I do...but still...
My sister and her entire family (10 of them)
left for a Florida vacation 6 hours ago.
I am trying to be happy for her....it's hard.
I could use a vacation myself.
Do I sound ungrateful? Whiny? Jealous? Tired?
Yep.
I'll work on that today.
Thursday, April 10, 2014
Charles Edward
He's here!
He's cute!
Mom and baby are fine and well.
Thanks for reading and commenting..It means a lot.
Gonna go hang out with him for a few days
but I'll be back.
Lolly
He's cute!
Mom and baby are fine and well.
Thanks for reading and commenting..It means a lot.
Gonna go hang out with him for a few days
but I'll be back.
Lolly
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
Blessing #3
As I type this, my daughter is in labor.
This is her first.
For us, it's grandchild number three.
To say that I am excited is an understatement.
We know that it's a boy.
They haven't decided on a name yet.
I've been praying for her since 6:15 am,
right after she called to say she was
on her way to the hospital.
I know that she is afraid.
Afraid of the pain, the epidural, the unknown,
Afraid of the possible size of her baby boy,
Afraid of a possible C-section.
Lord,
Watch over my daughter and grandson today.
I know that you love them more than I do.
Keep them safe, and unafraid during the birth process.
Give her your strength today Lord,
to bear what she must in order to bring
new life into this world.
And if it's not asking too much, Lord
maybe you could keep this Granny calm too.
Truth be told, I am as nervous as I am excited.
Be with us all today Lord.
Shelter us under your wings.
Give us your peace and strength.
Thank you for this gift of new life.
Amen
This is her first.
For us, it's grandchild number three.
To say that I am excited is an understatement.
We know that it's a boy.
They haven't decided on a name yet.
I've been praying for her since 6:15 am,
right after she called to say she was
on her way to the hospital.
I know that she is afraid.
Afraid of the pain, the epidural, the unknown,
Afraid of the possible size of her baby boy,
Afraid of a possible C-section.
Lord,
Watch over my daughter and grandson today.
I know that you love them more than I do.
Keep them safe, and unafraid during the birth process.
Give her your strength today Lord,
to bear what she must in order to bring
new life into this world.
And if it's not asking too much, Lord
maybe you could keep this Granny calm too.
Truth be told, I am as nervous as I am excited.
Be with us all today Lord.
Shelter us under your wings.
Give us your peace and strength.
Thank you for this gift of new life.
Amen
Monday, March 31, 2014
Hypocrisy and Want
I PRAISE LOUDLY. I BLAME SOFTLY.~ CATHERINE THE GREAT
i get that i am a hypocrite.
i say one thing then turn around and say another.
it angers me when someone acts a certain way
but please look away when i act in a similar fashion.
i am a child of God.
most of the time i can see that you are not.
yes! i get the hypocrisy in that statement.
who am i to point out any flaw or defect in your character
when i am tripping, choking, gagging on my own failures??
i want what i wantand what i want is for you to act in a certain way
so my life is easier.
when i yell and snap at you i want you to change
so i don't have to.
i want you to change your behaviour
so i won't have to alter my world not one bit.
if i wake up one day and realize that i am at war
with far too many people
i would like to place the blame where it rightly belongs
and in my world that blame is on everyone else.
i like to think that maybe i am an introvert
that i'm ok with being alone,
that i prefer it this way.
but maybe the truth is that i am lonely
and don't know how to make amends
to these people that rattle the cage i've put myself in.
i want you to see my loneliness and hurt.
i want you to see my pain and frustration.i want you to love me regardless of the way i act.
but just like a shy bird
i flap my wings when you get too close.
and i hurt myself by trying to remain alone.
maybe, if i'm gonna go with this bird analogy here,
maybe the finger pointing that goes along with the blaming
could be turned into a hand outstretched,
sort of like a perch that a small shy bird could land on,
sort of like an offering of a safe place to land.
maybe, if i allowed it, maybe that hand reaching out,
mine and theirs, could each learn to let go a little,
to not crush the offering of a safe place for us,
for me to land.
i need to learn to stop beating my wings so frantically
trying to get others to see my point, my view,
my pain, my sorrow, me.
if i quit making such a racket, wouldn't i see them more clearly too?
wouldn't life be much better if we all lived under Gods grace?
wouldn't life be much better if I allowed others to live
under that grace that God gives to me??
if God allows grace for my hypocrisy and want
wouldn't he offer the same to others?
wouldn't i want Him to offer that to others?
if i wanted to address my hypocrisy i would want that.
if i wanted to address my want i would want that too.
tsk......save me from myself Lord.
Monday, March 10, 2014
Lamentations
Lent.
40 days of preparing for Easter
Lame.
A paralyzed person
Rant.
Bitching uncontrollably
Lent. Lame. Rant = Lamentations
at least in my book it does
Lent begins right before Spring.
And Spring makes me angry.
It's cold, wet and damp.
A kind of damp that makes it's way into my bones
and makes me feel miserable.
Soon as the thaw starts, enormous snow piles
turn into slush and puddles.
Everything is melting and running and liquefied.
The ground is still frozen so it absorbs none of this
melting snow which turns into run off
which turns in to standing water
which turns in to ice when the temperature plunges
back down into the 20 degree range over night.
Winter boots are made to keep out snow not slush.
ie; They leak when you step in piles of it.
Gym shoes, tennis shoes, sneakers...
whatever you want to call them
are not any better in this weather.
They're not water proof either.
My feet feel smothered in winter boots
yet it's too cold for sandals or flip flops.
I feel like I'm suffocating in long sleeves
yet tank tops are still a little too light to wear.
I'm sick unto death of the heavy
roasted, baked meals we eat up here
in the northern mid-west all winter long.
And the outdoor grill is still buried under
80 some odd inches of the frozen white stuff.
Spring rains haven't started yet
So all of the salt, sand and grit
left on our streets, driveways and sidewalks
is still making it treacherous to walk outside.
If you don't slip on ice or snow,
you will slip and skid on sand and salt.
Spring is 10 days away.
I dread it and yet I hope for it.
More so after this Winter in which we have had
a record amount of snow fall.
The grass that shows thru the melted snow is not yet green.
The trees do not show any sign of budding.
No Robins have returned.
They're predicting that another 1 to 3 inches of snow
is possible for tomorrow night.
And that fills me with dread.
Will Winter never release its grip on us?
We lost that hour of sleep on Saturday night
due to Daylight Savings Time
which makes me feel tired and out of sorts.
I'm roasting in my house with the thermostat
set at 65 degrees
while the sun shines in my windows.
It's wet and mucky and ugly outside.
The left over snow is brown and dirty
and melting in to puddles of slush.
I'm sick of eating heavy foods and winter coats.
I'm done with the cold weather.
I want Spring.
I want rain.
I want to work outside in my garden.
I want to take my grand babies for a walk around the block.
I want open windows and fresh air.
And I want to stop being ungrateful.
I bitch about heavy winter foods...
Do I wonder who hasn't eatin today??
Why is my thinking so warped and paralyzed?
Why do I constantly think of me, myself and I?
I want, I need, I'm sick of.....
Sorry Lord...I always forget.
***********************************
40 days of preparing for Easter
Lame.
A paralyzed person
Rant.
Bitching uncontrollably
Lent. Lame. Rant = Lamentations
at least in my book it does
Lent begins right before Spring.
And Spring makes me angry.
It's cold, wet and damp.
A kind of damp that makes it's way into my bonesand makes me feel miserable.
Soon as the thaw starts, enormous snow piles
turn into slush and puddles.
Everything is melting and running and liquefied.
The ground is still frozen so it absorbs none of this
melting snow which turns into run off
which turns in to standing water
which turns in to ice when the temperature plunges
back down into the 20 degree range over night.
Winter boots are made to keep out snow not slush.
ie; They leak when you step in piles of it.
Gym shoes, tennis shoes, sneakers...
whatever you want to call them
are not any better in this weather.
They're not water proof either.
My feet feel smothered in winter boots
yet it's too cold for sandals or flip flops.
I feel like I'm suffocating in long sleeves
yet tank tops are still a little too light to wear.
I'm sick unto death of the heavy
roasted, baked meals we eat up here
in the northern mid-west all winter long.
And the outdoor grill is still buried under
80 some odd inches of the frozen white stuff.
Spring rains haven't started yet
So all of the salt, sand and grit
left on our streets, driveways and sidewalks
is still making it treacherous to walk outside.
If you don't slip on ice or snow,
you will slip and skid on sand and salt.
Spring is 10 days away.
I dread it and yet I hope for it.
More so after this Winter in which we have had
a record amount of snow fall.
The grass that shows thru the melted snow is not yet green.
The trees do not show any sign of budding.
No Robins have returned.
They're predicting that another 1 to 3 inches of snow
is possible for tomorrow night.
And that fills me with dread.
Will Winter never release its grip on us?
We lost that hour of sleep on Saturday night
due to Daylight Savings Time
which makes me feel tired and out of sorts.
I'm roasting in my house with the thermostat
set at 65 degrees
while the sun shines in my windows.
It's wet and mucky and ugly outside.
The left over snow is brown and dirty
and melting in to puddles of slush.
I'm sick of eating heavy foods and winter coats.
I'm done with the cold weather.
I want Spring.
I want rain.
I want to work outside in my garden.
I want to take my grand babies for a walk around the block.
I want open windows and fresh air.
And I want to stop being ungrateful.
I bitch about heavy winter foods...
Do I wonder who hasn't eatin today??
Why is my thinking so warped and paralyzed?
Why do I constantly think of me, myself and I?
I want, I need, I'm sick of.....
Sorry Lord...I always forget.
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Oh God, gather me now to be with you as you are with me.
Soothe my tiredness;
quiet my fretfulness;
curb my aimlessness;
relieve my complusiveness;
let me be easy for a moment.
relieve my complusiveness;
let me be easy for a moment.
O Lord, release me
from the fears and guilts which grip me so tightly;
from the expectations and opinions which I so tightly grip,
that I may be open
to receiving what you give,
to risking something genuinely new,
to learning something refreshingly different.
from the fears and guilts which grip me so tightly;
from the expectations and opinions which I so tightly grip,
that I may be open
to receiving what you give,
to risking something genuinely new,
to learning something refreshingly different.
Forgive me
for claiming so much for myself
that I leave no room for gratitude;
for confusing exercises in self-importance
with acceptance of self-worth;
for complaining so much of my burdens
that I become a burden;
for competing against others so insidiously
that I stifle celebrating them
and receiving your blessing through their gifts.
for claiming so much for myself
that I leave no room for gratitude;
for confusing exercises in self-importance
with acceptance of self-worth;
for complaining so much of my burdens
that I become a burden;
for competing against others so insidiously
that I stifle celebrating them
and receiving your blessing through their gifts.
O God, gather me to be with you as you are with me.
Amen.
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