Where've I been?

I've been busy these last 4 weeks.
Really busy.

Gardening.
Babysitting.
Redecorating the house...giving it a more Summery feel.
Pretty much just living life.

Being too busy to blog is a good thing.
It's also a sad thing.
Not really sad but what other word fits?
Certainly not bad.
Or horrible.
Or life altering.
Just sorta sad cuz I miss it sometimes.

Just means that I'm busy with the business of living.
And that's a great thing.

Here's another great thing....
Went to a Hillsong United concert with my sister last week.
Can you say  A.M.A.Z.I.N.G.!!!!!!
So, so good. Very cool laser show too.
I told my sister on the way home that my soul was completely full!
The arena was sold out! And packed to the rafters with Christians!
I've never seen anything like it in my life.
Soooo many people.... on a Tuesday night ....at a Christian concert.
The line to get in wrapped around the building twice!!
This video is from Sydney Australia. We were in Chicago.
The song is Oceans-

I love the line "Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders."
Something about the way she sings it really resonates within me.
Found a free download of those words in a curvy little script too.

Most of the time I forget to ask Him to lead me.
I charge headlong into my day, packed with things to do
Laundry, cleaning up after children, feeding children, changing diapers.
So at the end of the day I am worn out.
Again and again I forget to ask  "Spirit lead me"......
Allatime thinking that I can do everything on my own.
So I think I am gonna print out that free download.
Frame it and hang it in the living room.

Maybe that'll help me remember; if I see it everyday.

On my knees.

How in the world did it become June already?

And where exactly does the time go?!
Whoosh....
It was just Christmas!
Seems as if there was just snow on the ground.
And we all know how fast the Summers go by, don't we?

Been on my knees working in my garden for weeks.
Looks good.
Full of life and color.
Everything is so green and lush.
Grass, bushes, flowers, trees.
Isn't too hot or humid.
No mosquito's yet. And very few Bee's so far.

It's nice to sit in a comfy lawn chair on the new mulched patio
with a glass of wine or Iced Tea and just relax at the end of the day.

I like the fact that I have accomplished so much in the garden.
By dinner time I'm tired, but it's a good tired type of feeling.
My hands hurt tho. So do my knees. They could use a break.

Washing the dirt off of my hands
Stomping the muck off of my boots
Easing the kink outta my knees and back
Downing a coupla Advil for me poor joints.

It's all so worth it when I can stand back and admire the results.
Hopefully I can sit back and admire it now.
They say a gardener's work is never done.

I'm ok with that tho.
I don't like sitting around with nothing to do.
I feel too useless, like I'm not contributing to the family
or something. idk

Ha! When was the last time I sat all day?
Can't remember to tell the truth.
My days are full of watching the grandkids
and doing laundry, dishes, making meals
and working in my gardens.

So why then do I feel as if I don't contribute to the family?
What's got me thinking that what I do all day isn't enough?
And it isn't enough for whom? Me? Or him?
And WHY isn't it enough?
Because I don't make any money at it?
When did my self worth become equal to how much I earn?
If this is about money, when the Hell did that happen?

Is it because I stay at home?
Is that it?
Is that guilt then?
And who's guilt is it? Mine or his?
Should I feel guilty cuz he has to go to work and I don't?
Is he resentful of me cuz I am at home and he's not?
And if I'm guilty and he's resentful, when in the Hell did that happen?

I like gardening cuz it keeps me on my knees
And on my knees is a good place to find myself
Cuz then I am in the perfect position to pray.

I think I'm gonna go back out to my gardens
Drop to my knees and pray while I weed and water.

I pray dear Lord:
For him. For me. For us. 
For blue skies. For the perfect amount of rain. For flowers.
For birdsong. For Mosquito's and Bee's.
For Grandkids. For dishes and laundry.
For aching hands and knees.
For forgiveness and redemption.
For Peace. For me. For my soul.

I thank you Lord:
For him. For me. For us. 
For blue skies. For the perfect amount of rain. For flowers.
For birdsong. For Mosquito's and Bee's.
For Grandkids. For dishes and laundry.
For aching hands and knees.
For forgiveness and redemption.
For Peace. For me. For my soul.
Amen

God's in the pages

I feel like I've got Attention Deficit Disorder.
My mind is going in thirty directions all at once.
I'm reading 3 different books right now and not getting much outta any one of them.
Mind you, I am breaking my own cardinal rule on reading;
One does not start another book until the first one is finished.
But for some reason here lately, I can't seem to get my hands on enough reading material.
Stacks and stacks of books are being checked out by me from my local library.
I have $60.00 worth of books in my Amazon cart.
15 books borrowed from my best friend CC.
I read the dust cover, or the back of the book and I have to have it.
I hear of a book on the news or see another bloggers reading list and I'm on the hunt again.
Gardening books, awakening books, Jesus and all things spiritual books.
Books about saving one's own soul, learning to let go and living in God's grace.
Cook books, prayer books, comfort, joy and simplistic living books.
The Good Book.
Some of them I devour.
Cover to cover in an hour.
Others touch me so deeply that all I want to do is start highlighting and underlining passages.
(For some reason my local library frowns on this sort of thing)
I dog ear pages. Slip in little scraps of paper as book marks.
Sticky notes are stuffed in the creases.
And why am I doing this you might ask?
Cuz I see God in these pages.
And that makes me sound crazy, I know.
But that is what is happening.
God is showing Himself to me thru the paragraphs
and passages and quotes that I am finding in these tomes.
I can tell that it's God because of the way that it makes me feel.
Like I've come home. Like I can breath again. Like I have been saved.

Sometimes I can read something and it instantly resonates within my soul like I've heard it before.

It's as if I've known this quote all along but have forgotten it somehow.

As if the hidden meaning behind this certain paragraph has been written specifically for me.

But it's not just one or two books that this is happening with. 

It is every book.  Every. Single. Book.

I'm finding that God has decided to use books to draw me in to His presence.
And I think to myself...
"How cool is that?!"
That God is using something He knows is so important to me
Something that I feel is necessary to my very survival
That has saved my life on more than one occassion
The thing that I equate with being able to breathe
Reading. And Books.
He's reaching out to me through words.

He whispers to me through these pages written by others. 

He beckons me to come closer to Him.

To have a relationship with Him.

To find myself in Him. 

To trust Him.

Isn't there a saying somewhere about falling into the arms of a good book?

What if I fell into the arms of Jesus? 

What if that is one and the same???

I know, I know!! Mind Blown!

P.S. 2 quotes I found about reading. Nothing about falling into the arms of a book but whatever....... 

Books are the quietest and most constant of friends; they are the most accessible and wisest of counselors, and the most patient of teachers.  ~Charles W. Eliot

Medicine for the soul.  ~Inscription over the door of the Library at Thebes

An appointment

Can I tell you about my Hairdresser?
Beautician?
Stylist?
The lady what cuts my hair?

Can I tell you how often she saves me from myself?

How she's honest about telling me what styles won't work for my hair.

How she has this way of talking to me
that makes me feel special
and beautiful
and worthy
all at the same time.

How she shares her life stories with me
And makes me feel like I am not alone
in this world of woman who are too skinny
who wear low rise jeans
without the muffin top some of us are sporting.

How she gets it when I say I wish "Mom jeans" would come back into style
and she doesn't say   ewww...Mom!  like my daughters do.

When she talks about certain bras giving her "back fat"
and I thought I was the only one who was worried
and embarrassed about this.

How I feel like her twin sister
cuz we are both worried
or amazed
or thinking about
the exact same things
that women in their 50's
worry
amaze
or think about.

I always leave there shorter in my locks
and lighter in my soul.

I always feel like I can take on the world
after an appointment with her

It's an I Am Woman Hear Me Roar kind of thing.

My hair swings
My soul sings
My life has wings.

She makes me feel stronger about myself
and I love her for that.

This from Ann Voskamp-

"There are sisters who will carry you and sisters who will bend with you and pray with you and sisters who help heave the stones off.

What if we lifted a burden off a woman, what she was carrying around only because she thought the bulk of it was part of her?"

Thanks Kim...for helping me to heave off the stones.

Pissy

He walks into the house and says "It smells like piss in here."
(Well, Hello to you too!)
Really? I say.
(I don't smell it.)
"Oh yeah", he says. "Real bad. And it's worse in the TV room!"
Worse?!
(I don't smell it at all.)
We've got two Chihuahuas.
Chihuahuas with small little brains
and even smaller bladders.
I take them outside and they pee every where.
They come inside and 5 minutes later they pee again
on the floor, or the carpet or the throw blanket that is
dangling from the corner of the recliner.
I don't know who's the bigger jerk here.
Him for smelling piss and telling me about it
Or the dogs for putting the smell in here in the first place.
It's a never ending, no win situation.
I battle dog piss on a daily basis like it's my job.
Febreeze is sprayed and puppy pee pads are in place.
I see either one of them sniffing around
or starting to squat and it's out the door we go.
It's. Just. Never. Enough.
I've used Canine enzyme remover, Glade Air Freshener, candles, Baking Soda
You name it.
Nothing deters the little F-ers from soiling my house!
I mop, wipe, spray, powder and still
Still! He can smell piss in the house.
And there the dogs sit looking cute and innocent
As if to say Who? Us? We didn't do it.

First World problems...I know.
It gets harder and harder to sit here and complain about the state of my house.
The fact that I have a house should be enough for me to be grateful.

Most times, I forget how lucky I truly am
To live in America
To have not 1 car in the driveway but 3
And a boat
And a motorcycle
Furnace, Air Conditioning, Dishwasher, Clothes Washer and Dryer
TV, DVD player, Cable, Lap Tops(2)
Indoor plumbing, hot and cold running water, electricity
Full pantry, cupboards and Refrigerator/Freezer

To live in our single family dwelling
with our pissing on the hardwood floor Chihuahuas
and one cranky feline


Our grown children living close by with their spouses
Two beautiful grandchildren- a boy and a girl
30 years of marriage and we are still together

How dare I complain!

But I do.

And I'm sorry for that, Lord.

Sorry that I am so pissy all the time.

I'm blessed and I know it.

Help me to not forget this Lord.

Even whilst I mop up the piss, again.

Grace like rain

How is it that you can read a blog post by someone you don't know
and it has you wanting to cry and cry and cry because it is your story??
Her words opened up flood gates within me that I didn't know were blocked.
Everything she wrote resonated with me.
Everything.
From the squeezing
to the letting go
from walking away from the friends that don't want you
to the healing found in quiet and stillness
from the embarassement of quitting
to the freedom of new beginnings
from feeling less than for far too long
to knowing that it is well past time to forgive yourself.
from the unclenching of my hands and jaw
to the peace I never knew I needed
from recognizing the fact that I kept holding my breath
to the realization that God wanting me alive and breathing
That others were affecting me body and soul
and the damage was slowly killing me
From keeping my eyes downcast out of sheer humiliation
to lifting my face to the healing rain of grace
from learning to speak my truth
and no longer being afraid to be me.
I want to stand in this downpour with my head thrown back
and my arms open wide
accepting all of the grace God has in store for me.
Let it rain.

Pity Party In the Garden

Sarah wrote a post about friendship today.

Part of her post talked about who you'd want to be with you in the Garden of Gethsemane.

If you, like Jesus, were in that garden and knew what lay ahead for you,
who would you want next to you?

Who would you want to share that unimaginable moment with?
Who would you need to share it with?

She talked about having inner circles of friendships.

I know church people.
People I only encounter at worship services.
I wouldn't consider any of them friends tho, with the exception of one woman.

Is that bad?! That I don't have friends at church?

I have a few acquaintances that I consider friendlike.
Michelle and I used to be best friends in high school. I miss her like crazy. We are Facebook friends now, and not much else. It feels awkward to talk to her. She left the relationship first. I have no idea why, other than she got married first and had a baby first and our lives were never the same after that. And yet...
If she gave me half a chance, I would smother her with this need I have to be her friend once again.

Is that bad?! That I want to smother her with my friendship?

Michelle's sister and I became friendly after Michelle went off into her married mommy life.
Her sister and I were very much like best friends for 20 years before we stopped talking.
That relationship ended because I could no longer stand to listen to her brag about her children.
I just stopped calling.
She was so into her kids, that I truly don't believe she noticed I had stopped calling.
She was hysterically funny, with a wicked sense of humor (most of it aimed at her husband).
She saved me from Post Partum depression back in the day and I am forever grateful to her for that.
I do miss her friendship, terribly, but I don't miss those brag sessions.
Never could figure out how to tell her to shut up a sec and listen to me about my own fabulous kids.

Is that bad?! That I couldn't figure out how to tell her to shut up about her kids for a sec?
Cuz if I call her and try to tell her, she's gonna start bragging about her kids again. (I know. I've tried.)

Is it bad that Dawn moved to Nashville for a job, met a new man and we just lost touch?
Is it bad that Angie moved to Texas and then to Colorado without giving me her forwarding address?
Is it bad that Pepper moved away when we were 6 years old and I still wonder whatever happened to her?
That Pam died of an asthma attack in the middle of "Bumfuck" North Dakota too far away from a hospital to be saved?
That Evelyn married Mark and they both just disappeared? Off the face of the Earth?
That Debbie got married and divorced, married and divorced and married again and only lives 20 minutes away from me and I did not know it??

I am starting to see a pattern here.

Who's gonna sit with me in this garden??

My best friend and Sister-in-law CC will sit with me.
This I know to be true.
This. I. Know.
We've known each other for 31 years.
Ups, downs and all arounds.
I no longer do life without her.

My sisters too, of course.
Since one of us is already gone, we remaining 3 seem to have tied our ships together.
Where one ventures, we all venture.
And I would have it no other way.

My kids will sit with me cuz, well, they're my kids.
I hope that I would keep my big fat mouth shut and just soak in the amazing beauty of each one of them.
Usually I issue commands and instructions...blah, blah, blah.
I would hope that they would want to sit with me cuz they like me as a person.
I ain't holding my breath on that one.

My husband would probably want to sit with me.
I love that man down to my very bones.
I love his face, and his eyes.
I love the look of his hands and the shape of his legs.
He's so smart that it's scary.
And the way he smells???
Heaven. Pure heaven.
Just like heaven smells I imagine.
That man of mine smells so good it is sinful.
Did I mention that he smells good?
He just thinks about himself too much.
His own needs, his own comforts, his own wants.
It would be hard on me, him sitting next to me, thinking about hisself,
whilst I'm in the Garden of Gethsemane.

Lastly, I would want Jesus there with me.
Jesus would BE there with me whether I wanted Him to be or not.
Jesus is always there, with me and for me.
In the Garden of Gethsemane or my garden in the back yard.

He's there when I'm feeling lonely or mistreated.
When friends move away or when friends stop calling, Jesus is there.
He was there when Pam died, when Debbie got her divorces, when Angie moved across the country.
He's with Dawn and Pepper and Evelyn and Mark wherever they are.
He's there when Michelle messages me on Facebook.
And when I forget for a moment about her history of bragging
and I call Michelle's sister to talk about something,
He is there while I sit and listen to her brag about her kids.

Thank you Jesus.
For old friends and new friends.
For church friends and sister-friends.
For family friends and husbands who want to be friends.
Thank you for them all.

I'll meet You in the garden of your choosing.