Sleep on it

OK, well.... We made it.

Think I'm still a little high on adrenaline. Ah well, I suppose it'll take a few days to get in a good routine. But we'll get there.

I thought of attempting a recap of the last seven days, but the words escape me right now. There must be some deep and wonderful things I've learned over the past week. There must.

Hmmmm....


Maybe if I sleep on it.

Almost There

Wedding done, kids in bed, just have tomorrow morning's services to go and week from hell is over. After I return Levi's tux, mandatory nap day will begin. I will, along with my children, have a delicious, luxurious Sunday afternoon nap.

So with no small amount of tears, no small amount of laughter, and no small amount of effort.

I'm...


Almost...


THERE!

The Fine Line

Had I truly stopped to grasp what this week would entail, I probably would have run screaming. As it is, I've missed my chance. And so here I am, caught in the current of the crazy, with nothing to do but try to get a breath every once in a while. Perhaps next week, or the next, I'll descend from these white rapids into some stiller waters.

Know what I need? I need some handy helpers. Mickey Mouse has 'em. They're in his clubhouse. They do everything, all the cooking, cleaning, even answer the door for him. Whenever he needs something, a hand pops outta the wall and does it for him. Where is the justice in this? A rich bachelor mouse (you ever seen a ring on Minnie's finger?) has handy helpers, and a single mom who's bustin' her behind gets cramps and burned-out light bulbs and closet doors that fall off.

There are so many strong emotions vying for my attention right now. Many of them inflated by stress and fatigue, I'll admit. And so for now, they will have to wait their turn. Already this week, I've attended a baby's birth and helped with her first latch-on. (Nursing moms know what this is, and how stressful it can be.) I've moved a married couple in at work. I've attended a musical and a K4 graduation with my kids, easy for most people but this is my first time attending all of the end of school events alone. Well, not truly alone. My Riverside fam was with me, even had one of em at the school graduation. But you know what I mean. Alone as in not attached. I've gotten Mackenzie to her last dance class before the big show, and found her a pair of shoes for this weekend's wedding. Still to go, I've got to pull off Wednesday night, finish the work week that includes another move-in, get my hair cut and Levi's hair cut, learn a song, throw an inappropriate party, play for said wedding and hope Levi pulls off ring bearing duties. I also need to write some material for a denominational committee I'm on, answer about a hundred emails, and clean my toilets. So emotions will have to take a number.

That's the thing about emotions, though. Stubborn, spoiled little things. Sometimes they simply refuse to wait their turn. That's when you cry like an idiot at K4 graduations, and then spend half an hour in your car in the parking lot REALLY crying. That's when you hope and pray people aren't nice to you because you might start blubbering at their tenderness. That's when you hope and pray people aren't mean to you because you might start blubbering at their meanness. That's when you sit in church and all you can pray is "Please take me away. I don't care where. Just away. Now."

Ah well. I'll just have to keep my tissues handy, hang on for dear life and keep on going. I sneak those "away" moments in with God wherever I can. I keep moving forward, trying to enjoy every moment. I keep my emotions in line and give myself grace when I can't. And I'm my own handy helper... or handy hindrance. Or both.

In case any of you are doing some type of psychological study project, I'm confident you could really use this blog as a case study. It could be called "The Fine Line Between Victorious Living and Utter Insanity."

Walkin' it every day, baby.

Two Thumbs Up

If you haven't seen Prince Caspian yet, well... you should have. I'm not even sorry that I'm about to ruin part of it for you...


The kids and I finished reading the book and then we saw the movie. Much Hollywood artistic license was taken, of course. But it was still AWESOME! There was one moment in the movie that was most incredibly profound for me.

Throughout the story, Lucy, the youngest of the four Pevensie children, sees Aslan, the Great Lion and knows she is to follow Him. The other children don't really see him, though, and she is outvoted. So the group continues on the opposite direction, much to their disadvantage.

Things get bad. Real bad. Battle is fierce and dangerous. And no one knows where Aslan is. There is little hope. As a last ditch effort, the older three Pevensies send Lucy on a desperate search, for Aslan of course.

As the battle rages, Lucy finds the Great Lion and they talk. Expecting Him to commiserate with her frustration that the others didn't believe her, Lucy is surprised when Aslan asks her "Why did you not follow me alone?"

Then, in a shining moment, the two opposing sides meet at the river Rush. The only hope for Narnia now is Aslan. The Telmarine (enemy) warriors stop short at the river's edge, seeing a little girl on the other side. Standing silent, but strong, yet alone against an entire army, Lucy simply pulls her small dagger out of its sheath. (As if the entire army were no match for her tiny dagger.) A moment of questioning silence lingers, and then He appears. Aslan stands at her side. He roars His majestic roar and the enemy is no match for Him.

Sad, sad, sad thing is that many people will watch this film and not understand what C.S. Lewis meant to tell when he wrote the story. But, never one to read too little symbolism into anything, I am totally caught up in the symbols of the Narnian stories.

You see, I am Lucy. So are you. And sometimes, Aslan (Jesus) our Great Lion asks us to follow Him. Even alone. Sometimes He asks us to face odds that are impossible. Sometimes the people we love can't see Him. Sometimes we go the wrong way because we are too afraid to follow Him alone.

And sometimes... We stand facing an army with only a little dagger. Sometimes we have to look fear in the face and pull our pitiful dagger bravely, and wait for His roar.

DO YOU LOVE IT??? I do!!

I may be only one woman. I may be standing alone. I may face grief and despair and ugliness. I may look more like a pitiful little girl when compared to my fears and my circumstances.

But I lock eyes with my enemy, my dagger in my hand. Because a Lion stands next to me. And He roars. And He was all I ever needed in the first place.


Finally, money well-spent at the movies. Perhaps I'm too dramatic, or perhaps I've romanticized it a bit too much...

Nah!!!! I've been a queen of Narnia way too long to have misinterpreted this one.


GO SEE THE MOVIE, for Heaven's sake!

Past the Foam

Never one to let go of a thought that might be "something," I've continued to ponder the whole "who am I?" thing. I've concluded that there are many words that could be used to describe me, my traits, my idiosyncrasies, my upbringing, my aspirations. But the essence of who I am really boils down to very few things, foundational things that give way to the many other complicated layers of me.

I think we are all that way. There are a few things that must be established about who we are. Once that foundation is laid, it must constantly be referred to as a check point for additions or subtractions or decisions made about the many other layers of who we are.

Here's what I mean: When I got down to the bare essentials, I discovered there are just a few things about who I am that REALLY matter. Those things, if I know what they are and base my decisions on them, will determine all the other stuff for me.

So who am I?

I am HIS. I am totally redeemed, loved, forgiven, accepted, and taken care of by God. I, first and foremost, belong to Him. I am covered in grace, and absolutely right with God. I'm His girl, and that's the way it will always be.

I am a woman. I have my own unique blend of beauty and femininity (with a pretty generous dose of spice thrown in.) Though my particular brand of female-ness is of the strong-willed variety, I still approach my world with a very female perspective.

I am irreversibly, frighteningly, passionately determined to follow God's call for me. I love that He has called me, dared me to go on an adventure with Him, and I will accept nothing less.

That's it.


That very basic information IS the perspective from which I perform my duties as mother, minister, friend, writer, employee, daughter, sister, whatever. That information, when I let myself realize it, stand on it, and rely on it, is all I need to know. It's all anyone needs to know.

I think all this time, I've been working backwards. Starting with the layers and layers of stuff that is part of me, I get distracted and forget what IS me. Sorta like drinking a cappucino but never getting past the foam.

Whew! I got a little wobbly there. Started questioning who I am based on other people and their reaction to me. But good thing! It got me thinking and asking questions and eventually got me past the foam.

It's good to know who I am. It's good to be who I am. Same goes for you, you know. It's good for you to know and be who you are. And I, for one, hope you get right down to the very depths of your cappucino. Way past the foam and all the way down to where the flavor syrup settles and makes a puddle of sweetness on the bottom of the cup. There's just something steady and sure and secure at the bottom of the cup, down there past the foam.

Preoccupation

Ever feel distracted? Like something's amiss but you can't place just what it is?

That was me today. The first thing that clued me in was when I was standing at the counter in Wendy's and tried to swipe somebody else's order. I caught myself before my hand was actually IN the bag so thankfully tragedy was averted. We got our food (the food that was REALLY ours) and sat down. We ate and I managed to get a few coherent sentences out to my friend, Carrie, in spite of about a gazillion interruptions: "MOM, he hit me!" "Mommy, can I have a milkshake? A swirly chocolate one?" "Mama, guess what?" "I'm done, Mom, can I have a milkshake now?" To which I answered a gazillion Mom-answers, like "Stopit!" "Get up off the floor, please!" "Please sit down. All the way." "I need you to eat two more pieces of chicken."

After such a peaceful dining experience, I took Levi to the bathroom. We walked in, did our thing, washed our hands, and on the way out I noticed something strange. There was a urinal on the wall! I hadn't seen it on my way in. For a split second, I thought "Wow, I've never seen a urinal in a women's restroom before." Then reality hit. I WASN'T in the women's restroom!!! THAT was my second clue that I may be a bit preoccupied. Thanks be to God we were in New Orleans East, which is still not very heavily populated, and so we were the only people in the bathroom throughout our bathroom experience.

We laughed our heads off, the kids, Carrie and me.

But on the way home, I started thinking. (Dangerous, I know.) Thinking how funny it is that all the bumbling I had done on the outside seems to reflect how I feel inside. Or maybe all the outward goofiness has to do with what's going on inside me. Maybe the staring into space, forgetfulness, and general preoccupation are parallelling my inner attempt to right myself. To figure out who I am and where I fit these days. Guess I've been thinking about that a lot the last few days. Perhaps a wierd holiday like Mother's Day brought on the out-of-place feelings. Or perhaps it's the change I've observed in how others see me and how they treat me sometimes, the unsure way they approach relationships with me. (And you thought I didn't notice...) Or maybe it's a change inside. A change in how I view myself.

So now I'm alone in my room. Just me and Jesus. And here's the thing... He doesn't care how many dumb mistakes I make. He doesn't care who rejects me or befriends me, or why. He doesn't care how many times I swing back and forth between adolescent insecurity and mature grown up confidence. And some way, He will sort all this out in me. He will show me who I am.


And hopefully keep me out of the boys bathroom.

Lucky Mom

In honor of mother's day, please enjoy this original composition by my 10 year old daughter, written to me--her very lucky mom:


Moms are cool
Moms rule
Moms like to chill out in the pool
But you are the best mom I have ever met
You are as good as moms ever get.

It's your job to love and care
And it's our job to give you gray hair!

by Mackenzie Hughes

Never take a laxative and a sleeping pill on the same night

NO I didn't try it. That's a chapter title out of Karen Linamen's book "Due to Rising Energy Costs, the Light at the End of the Tunnel has been Turned Off." I've read several of Karen's books and always enjoyed them. I picked up this one and was interested to find that she is also a single mom of two. Like me!

Anyway, this chapter was profound. I know you are dying to know how I got anything profound out of that title, so stay with me.

In the midst of pain, a bad situation, or grief of any kind. It's not unusual for people to reach for something completely wrong as a solution, even if a temporary solution, to ease the pain. Now, I'VE never done this, but SOME people might, finding themselves hurting and rejected and alone, pick up a bag of Double Stuf Oreos and consume nearly all of it. How bout THAT for a pick-me-up? Except it doesn't pick me, um... I mean that person whoever they might be, up. It only makes things worse. It's as silly as taking a laxative and a sleeping pill on the same night.

That's crazy. But we do it all the time. Instead of facing the pain, dealing with the grief, or walking the hard road, we often create a whole new problem as a diversion. Except then we find ourselves with pain multiplied instead of pain lessened. Why? Why do we do this to ourselves?

I have a couple of theories.

One comes out of the same chapter in Karen's book. There is a subtitle that says, "Please don't hurt me... let ME do it." I have to wonder if sometimes our propensity for those quick, yet devastating distractions from our pain stems from some deep assumption that we'll never amount to anything better anyway. So why not have that drink or two to take the edge off? Who cares anymore, anyway? Why not eat myself into a sugar coma? I don't deserve to be healthy anyway. Truth be told, it's HARD to take the high road. And it takes some amount of self esteem and determination to demand nothing less than God's best for myself.

The other theory is that we don't exercise faith. Now, don't go thinking I'm a name it and claim it girl. No way. My God isn't an order taker at a heavenly drive thru window. He's so much bigger than that. I wouldn't be caught dead saying that someone's painful circumstance is due to a lack of faith on his or her part. Hear me out... today I read in Psalm 105:19 "Until the time came to fulfill his dreams, the Lord tested Joseph's character." This verse is referencing Joseph's experience (start in Genesis 37 and read through the end of the book if you aren't familiar) with the time he spent in slavery and prison, before he was snatched out of prison, appointed as VP of Egypt and recognized for the amazing guy he was. During his prison and slavery years, God tested his character.

I can identify. I feel as though there are dreams out there. I can even see some of them on the horizon. But right now, I'm in the holding cell of character testing. Can I trust God the same in the dark as I can in the light? Can I remain committed and faithful to Him and to what He has called me to be, even when sometimes I'd like to forget the character test and just take the easy way out for Pete's sake?

Well, perhaps I can. But in order to do so, I must get out my faith, dust it off, and put it into play in my life. I must put it on, wear it, use it. If faith is the substance of things I hope for, then I must practice that faith by living as though the dreams I hope for are reality. For example, if I truly believe that full time ministry (a dream God and I have) is coming for me one day, then I don't have time to get addicted to anything, even something that seems to mask my pain. Problem is, when that quick fix is calling, and the dream fades into the background, it takes actual usage of my faith in order to maintain the character needed to stay on the track. It's one thing to say I have faith, sing about it, or study on it; but another thing entirely to PRACTICE it.

I totally stink at the game of tennis. I once tried to play it and I was horrible. It's one thing to know the game, read about it, watch it on TV, try on cute little white skirts or whatever. But actually getting out there to play is a totally different matter. I don't want to play nearly as badly as I want to stand around looking too cute in a little white skirt-y thing, with Reeboks at the end of my lovely tanned legs. (Are you cracking up yet?) To play you have to run around and sweat. You might miss the ball and make a fool of yourself. Not anywhere near as glamorous, right?

Same goes for my faith. I think I often create unhealthy diversions to mask the pain of my problems because I am too scared to get out there on the court of my faith and take the risk of running around and sweating and maybe missing a shot or two. It's hard to live in the substance of things I hope for. It's much easier to live in a tangible, even if unhealthy, solution of my own making.

But what if I could do it? What if I got out there on the court of faith, and won the game? What if I ran around, got sweaty, missed a shot or two, but stayed in the game and actually won? IT WOULD BE WORTH IT, that's what!!! It would be worth it to come out victorious with character intact, making my Father God proud. Loving Him back for all I'm worth by LIVING like I BELIEVE Him.

Whew! This post is getting long. Perhaps I should have made it a series. Or perhaps I'm not making any sense to you at all. But hey... at least you'll think twice before reaching for the Milk of Magnesia AND the Tylenol PM.

Nothin'

I got nothin'. I've been sitting here bonding with my rocking chair, laptop warming up my lap, fingers poised over the keys....

and I got nothin'.

It's not that nothing is happening or has happened. There is more going on in my heart and in my mind and in my life than I can begin to tell you. I'm not sure if I'm too tired or too stressed or too overwhelmed, but I just can't bring myself to write coherently on any of the hundred things I'd like to tell you about.

But guess what? I know what to do. I know where to go. I know just what my heart needs. So if you'll excuse me, I'm off with my nothin' for some time with my Everything. (That'd be God.) He knows just what to do with nothin'. Made a whole world out of it, as a matter of fact. No tellin' what He might do with this...

Winnie the Pooh Wisdom

Trying to convince Tigger to stick around when he wants to quit, Darby (character in Disney's new Winnie the Pooh cartoon) says "We'd be lost without you!" Pooh adds, "Which would mean we would have to find ourselves, ourselves. That might be difficult with just the two of us."

I swear I wasn't looking for a profound moment when this came along and I'll take the risk of a few giggles at this, but I got chills at Pooh's words. I gotta say, I'm quite the Pooh Bear myself at times, bumbling through life trying to make sense of things I don't have enough brain to comprehend.

But thank God, I don't have to find myself, myself. By SomeOne bigger, smarter, greater than me, I've been so very, very found. I just get to play and live and eat all the honey I want. Much friendlier this way, don't you agree?

Tricks n Treats

Anyone who has navigated the waters of divorce and single parenthood knows... or anyone who has dealth with grief of any kind knows...

There are definitely some tricks to the trade of handling life after major loss. I'm picking up on a few of them.

Trick #1: Get over yourself and ask for help.

Today, I swallowed my pride, called a friend and squeaked out "I could really use a break." I ignored everything in me that screamed if I were a better mother I wouldn't feel this way, or I shouldn't be interrupting someone else's day, or what if my friends get tired of helping me. I also ignored the voice of failure that reminded me I'm not good enough and that asking for help means I'm weak. My friend took my kids for a couple of hours and I got the break I needed.

Trick #2: Get over your fear and let other people in.

Today was Sunday. Always a day of intensity and emotion for me. But today was a hard day. I have a whole family of people around me who care about me a lot. Still I can fool most of 'em if I want to. I have a brave face when I need to use it. But there are a few who know that my brave face is BS and they see right through it. Today I let the tears fall in front of one of them. When she asked how I was, I knew lying was futile and so I didn't even try. I let her in and I let her see the yuck inside my heart. I told her how sad I was and I told her why. I needed her and it scares me to need anyone but God. But I let myself need her anyway.

Trick #3: Get out your pen and take notes.

Sometimes things are flying at me so fast. Really important things I want to remember. My journal is filling up faster these days. I don't want to forget the profound things God is teaching me. I don't want to forget the dark places and how He is with me here. I also don't want to forget to pay the electricity bill. For a thousand things, I need a list. It helps me to write. From a practical to do list to a scrawled out emotion, to a dreamy wish list, my pen and my keyboard bring release.

As is His way with His favorite girl, God lavishes me with treats. Friday, I got to have the most fun conversation with my daughter. Yesterday, He treated me to a deliciously rainy day, which I quietly spent in the house with my kids. Today, He treated me to a visit with an old friend who was passing through town, a walk in the rain with my babies, a cup of cafe au lait, and two and a half hours spent alone, mostly in a bookstore. I am learning to savor even the littlest treat, to open every moment as the gift it is.

I suppose, in a way, that's another trick. The trick of treats. Recognizing, appreciating, and enjoying even the tiniest of treats. And... now I must practice what I preach. There is a new book and a warm bed waiting for me. The house is quiet. Rain is falling outside. I'd say my treat basket is full.

Lullaby for a Single Mom

Utterly exhausted, eyes drooping, she finally did it. She opened her hands and let it all go. She left laundry on the couch, and toys on the floor. She bathed her kids and put them to bed. Early.

She walked through the quiet house, turning off every light. And as she went, she let Him go with her. She let Him take the thoughts, the fears, and the frustrations off her shoulders. He held her very tender, very tired heart in His hands and sang a silent song over her...

And she slept.

Today

I wore a dress today. A cute little cotton number with tiny pink flowers all over it. Not normally my speed, I admit. But even if I AM on the verge of world domination, I'm still all woman. :) So a dress, I wore. And I liked it.

I laughed today. Mostly at my crazy self and my crazy friends. I laughed at home when my son said "Yes Lordy!" I laughed at work when my friend put on "I Feel Good" during the afternoon slump, and when an impromptu dance was done to "Shout." I laughed at church during LIVEChat. I always laugh during LIVEChat. And I liked it.

I stood alone with God today. Sure there were other people in the room. A whole choir in fact. But He and I were really alone, and I blessed His name, I sang Him a song. I let Him give me life. And I liked it.

I drank today. It was one of those HUGE sweet teas from McDonalds. Drank the whole thing down, with plenty of ice. And I liked it.

I wondered today. I wondered how long until I feel normal again. I wondered why my new mascara clumped like that and if the clump WAS the extreme lash. I wondered if I was going to pass out. I wondered if I should take some kind of medicine for that passing out feeling. I wondered if I let my toenail polish dry long enough last night, and if this no-chip nail color really wouldn't chip. I wondered why some people are ok with mediocrity and what would happen to me if I was.

I hoped today. I hoped the piece of chocolate cake I ate at dinner wouldn't make me fat. I hoped my kids come out ok and hoped they know I love them. I hoped God still gives me a career in ministry. I hoped I someday love again, and I hoped I take everything I'm learning now and love better because of it. I hoped I could get through the day. I hoped I will sleep well tonight. I hoped to see a friend I hadn't seen in a week, for no reason other than her presence is comforting. I hoped for a vacation. Alone. At the beach. I hoped. And I liked it.

I loved today. I loved my little boy when he was afraid. I wrapped my arms around him and loved him as best I could and cried because it wasn't enough. I loved my girl when she climbed into my lap and when she just WAS her sweet self. I felt deep, painful, heart's about to burst kind of love for those kids. And I liked it.

I thought today. I thought about my life and about my loss. I thought about my dreams and about what would happen if I said what I REALLY wanted to say to a grouchy caller at work. I thought about my kids and my mom. I thought about my future and my past. I told some people what I thought, and kept some of my thought to myself. And I liked it.

Just a regular day, being regular old silly, happy, sad, broken, strong, healing, hoping, loving, grouchy, crazy, sorry, bossy, loud, quiet, lonely, friendly, tired, passionate, me. AND I LIKED IT!!

Blooming

I had a realization. An epiphany. A blinding flash of mental and emotional light.

Here it is:



I'M STILL ALLOWED TO DREAM.


I suppose over the last few months, I've put my dreams away. I just assumed they would no longer be viable or compatible with my new life. I mean, BC (Before Crisis) I WAS living my dream. I WAS doing what I thought God had called me to do and what I've dreamed of since I was a kid. Then everything changed.

But the other night, it hit me. Right outta the blue! I was sitting in choir practice and I can't explain it, there was just a sudden awakening in my heart. A passion and a burning I hadn't felt in a long time. And I knew. My dream, my heart isn't going to die from this.

Sure, there may be changes in timing and situation, and even possible expansion of the dream, but IT DOESN'T HAVE TO DIE. As a matter of fact, inside my heart, it's alive and well. And it's ok for me to work towards it, live in it, play with it, and enjoy the dream God has given me.

I will give you a VERY RARE glimpse into my handwritten journal, because the words that flowed out there express this best.

"It's like I've been standing out in a horrible storm. Everything around me is devastated, even I am in shreds. But I open my clenched hand and find the delicate blossom of my dream and my calling still intact and beautiful as ever."

Today I will speak to a group of ladies. The event theme is "Blooming." And, just in time... so am I.

Peaceful, Easy Feelin'

There is nothing like the peaceful, easy camaraderie between members of God's family. I spent three evenings this week in the company of one old and four new friends. My friend, Kris and I figured out it had been 11 years since we'd seen each other. Now Kris has a family. The star of which is his amazing Mary. I had met her on the blogs, hers and mine, but never before in person.

I just can't explain how amazing it is to sit with someone you haven't seen in over a decade and someone you haven't seen before, ever, and feel completely at home and at peace. Of course I can't explain it. That's because it's a GOD THING. His family works this way when we let it. These past three days, we let it. And I'm so much better for it.

(Hear my contented sigh)

Life's good. God's good. Everything's gonna be alright.

New Joys

I had a light bulb moment. This one is thanks to my surprise visitors, Deanna and Jill. It's a little overdue in being posted, since the light bulb actually came on sometime Sunday night. But then the idea was immediately put to severe testing and I'm glad to say it has resurfaced intact.

Here's the AHA:

I was really bad off before my surprise visit. Down in the dumps. Then, with the shock of the surprise and seein' my girls again, well, I guess I just forgot for a while that I was Sad with a capital S. Once the visit was over, the light bulb came on. DUH!! I'm not dead! I'm suffering, yes, but I CAN still have fun. I can still laugh. I CAN EVEN STILL ENJOY LIFE.

I guess I had only thought there was ONE way of life I could enjoy. But that's not true. And I suppose the loss of that way of life, or the pain of the loss anyway, is in such stark contrast to the smallest happiness that it sort of magnifies that happiness. What I mean is, that some things aren't as easily taken for granted these days. Small moments of pleasure being one of those things.

So what does a girl do with such a light bulb moment? She gets out her journal. The light is on anyway, right? So she opens the journal and plays with the idea of enjoying the tiniest bit of happiness and getting every last drop of joy out of it. She makes a list of things she hasn't done but thinks might be fun. She makes a list of things she has done and wants to do again. She makes a list of things that bring her so much joy that they deserve a deliberate place in her everyday life.

Then she proceeds to write on. She writes her dreams, her hopes, and just plain ol' stuff she thinks. And she really enjoys that.

Then she proceeds to have a terrible week including several meltdown moments.

The light bulb came on just in time, as meltdown moments were balanced with a purposeful lingering over even the slightest thing that might bring joy.

So just in case you didn't know (Hey, don't be insulted, it was a surprise to me!) It's ok to take a break from grief for a while to let yourself really enjoy living. It might even be time to explore some new joys.

Speaking of... a thunderstorm is coming in. A rainy night is mine to savor. Gotta go!

Couldn't Resist

Found this picture of me and my sister...




Now ya'll know where the strange affinity for Alabama comes from. Same thing that makes me look so darn comfortable on an ATV, and gave me the stomach for eating venison and the knack for makin' sweet tea. Happiness!!

Lump in My Throat

I've been sitting here staring at the screen. I can't quite find words for what's inside me today. I try to make it a goal to write every day. If a writer doesn't write something every day, I'm not sure how anything would ever get written. So I'm sitting here trying to muster up some words.

I accomplished a lot today. Got some stuff done. That was nice.

I got the kids to school on time,even managed to start a load of laundry before we left and get my trash out, had a productive day at work, got my kids, got to the dancewear store to buy Mackenzie new tap shoes (her old ones were starting to get so small I couldn't bear to let her do another class in them), got her to dance class on time, paid some bills, picked Mackenzie up (new tap shoes were awesome), fixed supper and fed everyone, supervised homework for both kids, bathed both kids, read two stories, folded a load of laundry, swept the kitchen, went through a big pile of papers, and got both kids in bed.

I did good, yes?

Yes. But there's still a strange lump in my throat. It's wierd.

I was walking through Winn Dixie the other day, griping because the store is totally rearranged. I realized how ridiculous it was to complain about something so trivial. Then it dawned on me that change is uncomfortable. Even for me, Miss Bring-it-On-and-I'll-kick-it's-behind. And I gotta tell ya, that if a few flip flopped grocery store aisles throw me for a loop, imagine what it's like having life as I know it put in a proverbial blender and pureed.

The change that's bugging me most today is relational. I know how to do intense, enmeshed, all-up-in-my-space relationships. And I know how to do hammock-on-the-beach-just-me-and-God, everyone-else-stay-far-away aloneness. (Though I must admit I haven't had enough of that type of aloneness to become an authority on it.) But where I am now is just plain wierd. I can't be totally alone, though I'd love to step off the world and disappear. And I can't be too incredibly intimately close with anyone either. Anyone grownup at least. And it's wierd.

On the positive side, I have time to get to know myself, to try and do some things I've never had the chance to try and do. I can become a better me. A me that maybe someday someone will love. (I know lots of people love me. I don't mean that kind of love. I mean LUUUUV. You know.)

On the not so positive side, well... really the only bad part is that the change in my personal life is so profound that it hurts. I guess I feel like I've been dropped off in the middle of nowhere with no map. Kinda lost. Kinda freaked out. I mean, I'm good at emergencies. But now that the emergency is wearing off, the realization of my location is overwhelming.

What to do? I suppose I must take a deep breath, gather my wits, and enjoy the scenery. I'm in no rush to get back to civilization anyway. I guess what'll it hurt if I wander around for a while?

God-held Wonder

"When each earthly brace falls under,
And life seems a restless sea,
Are you then a God-held wonder,
Satisfied and calm and free?"


Read that today in Streams in the Desert. I love the ring of the words "God-held wonder."

My pastor said this morning that he would never get over what Jesus has done for him. I wholeheartedly agree. It is indeed a wonder to be held by God, no matter what is happening in life. Satisfaction, peace, and freedom are mine always, but to have them when the bottom falls out... now that's when God shows off what He can do in the lives of His children.

How excellent that no matter how I feel, no matter how bad it looks... at the core of me I am satisfied and calm and free. It's who I am because of Him. Some days I look at my reality and know that there is no way I should be functioning. And yet I am. No way I should walk on and yet I do. I should be flat on my back and yet I stand. Through every lonely, painful moment I am held by God. Indeed, it is a wonder.

I LOVE IT!

Only in New Orleans

Today we had a blast showing our city to Jill and Deanna. Of course, my proudest moment was stopping at a stoplight where a homeless man stood with a cardboard sign. It read:

"Hungry Hungry Hobos"


Only in New Orleans, baby!! I love this town!