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April

Total Randomness from My Brain…

I’m in a quandary. I need a certain amount of “breathing” time in my day and in my life to process events, feelings, stresses, etc… Many of you know that Chris is out of town for two weeks, so I don’t expect to do much “breathing” or processing during that time. I certainly haven’t done any today, so I come before you tonight as a jumble of random thoughts and raw emotions. That’s all I have to offer, so here goes my potluck post:

One of my fillings from last week is hot/cold sensitive. Is that normal?
I miss my husband. I am often ornery to live with, and there are many evenings when I am so spent that I feel that I have nothing left to offer him. Not time. Not conversation. Not attention. I shut down. The “Sorry, We’re Closed. Please Come Again” sign gets flipped when the last daughter is tucked in. Sometimes I can get so focused on seeking opportunities to minister in my Judea (the convenience store, the park, my neighborhood) that I miss opportunities to minister at my own address. And I fail to acknowledge and truly appreciate the way he ministers to me. Like how he totally cracks me up several times a day. Like how we enjoy the gift of sarcasm. Like how he shares the scoop from his ninety-seven phone conversations and I share from my two. Like how he slices the frozen pizza (I didn’t even realize that he always does that until I had to do it tonight). I won’t belabor the point, so as to spare you the mush, but you get what I’m sayin‘…
This song is the bomb!!! Check it out on itunes – “At the Foot of the Cross” by Kathryn Scott. My fave right now…
I have been devastated to realize that as Carson celebrates her sixth birthday on Thursday that 1/3 of her time under our roof will have passed. That thought makes me nauseous, and I won’t allow myself to hang out there for more than about 2 seconds. She’s missing her daddy too. She took a note he left us and hung it in her room. She fussed at me for sitting in his chair at dinner, and she wants to send him an email – just from her – tomorrow. While she was playing in Campbell’s room, she got on Campbell’s cash register and added 7+7 to find out how many days he would be away (it’s actually going to be 12, so she was happy to hear that).
God is always such good company. I never look forward to Chris being out of town, but I always anticipate a fresh visit with Him during that time. When Chris is away, He will often speak protection and affection to my heart from His Word, and one of my sweetest encounters with Him was a time when I was feeling very alone in the darkness of night. I prayed that I might feel His company and very shortly thereafter I heard the softest, gentlest rain outside my window. No rumbling. No wind. Just the softest pitter-patter that said, “I’m here…”

Night, night, sweet folks. I’m expecting Company…

April

Got a question for ya…

I’m forever looking for ways to make my life more efficient – because efficiency is not one of my strong suits. Deliberate? Yes. Meticulous? Often. Slow? Yes, yes, yes! And I’ve confessed that I’m not a multi-tasker, so I like to think about things I could cut out of my life all together. Upon meditating on that, I have come upon a few things that I have come to classify as complete acts of futility. For example,

Mopping the kitchen floor when you have a preschooler and a kindergartner – We could seriously feed a small country with what I sweep off the floor.
Wearing make-up during the summer in South Carolina – When I wear make-up during the summer, my beautified face melts into a puddle in my lap within nanoseconds of walking outside.
Plucking my eyebrows – Plucking is painful and causes the darn things to be fruitful and multiply. How counterproductive is that?

Lest you think this is a woman thing, Chris takes a shower before he cuts the grass. Go figure…

So what in your life is a total act of futility but you continue to do it anyway (because you have to or because you choose to)? Something that you do that is almost immediately undone as soon as you do it? I look forward to hearing from you…

April

Deep Thoughts

On the way to take Campbell to school this morning, I saw this on the back window of a black F250:

If you dumb, you better be tough.

Too funny.

Too true.

Growing up in Marion, God gave you smarts or brawn, but usually not both!

April

Bigger eyes, Deeper hearts

In my world, most of the people are pretty much like me. The people in my neighborhood live pretty much the way I live. My friends pretty much do the same things I do. It’s not often that I spend time with someone whose life experience is so different from my own.

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to sit down with a mom very different from myself. She’s a foster mom. Single and only a couple of years older than I am. I was given an hour and a half to glimpse into her world, and I left with eyes that see a little more and a heart that understands just a little more than it did before our interview. I think this is certainly one of the many ways God is going to challenge me through my relationship with She magazine.

I was actually a foster care driver during college (driving foster children to visit with their parents), but I was not a parent then. And my, my, my how parenthood changes our perspective…

I hope you get the chance to peek at the article in May, certainly not because I’m writing it, but because I feel different after having met her. And I hope to be able to convey that through my words (although I’m struggling to do that right now).

April

Crumbs under the Cushions

About the car. We took it today to be “detailed” in hopes of eliminating the most offensive odor. My dear husband made arrangements for us to leave the car the entire day, and he was absolutely mortified as we began hauling car seats out of the back – the Cheerios, cheese crackers, chicken nuggets, and Cheetos began to fly. I even caught myself looking around to see if anyone I knew was watching this spectacle (since this place is only situated at one of the busiest intersections in town). We left it in good hands, and all of us, even the girls, were excited about returning to retrieve a clean, fresh smelling car.

As we approached the detail shop late this afternoon, she looked like a new ride. She was spiffed up, and I was proud to see my nine year-old 107,000 miler looking so good. Chris and I popped out to inspect the interior, and at first glance it was a new day for the Pathfinder. I quickly pulled up the bottom of the back seat and my smile sagged. Yep, there they were – remnants of the Cheerios, cheese crackers, chicken nuggets, and Cheetos.

We came home, and I vacuumed under the seats. I took some 409 to areas that were still a little encrusted, and she’s almost as clean as she’s ever been. But that was pretty disappointing. She looked great from afar, but the yuck was still hanging around.

I’m like that.

I look pretty good from afar, but I still got some yuck hanging around. Yuck that I don’t want you to discover. Like when I look around in a restaurant to see if anyone heard me reprimand Carson a little too loudly or when I consciously decide not to engage anyone in conversation at the park because I don’t feel like exerting the effort – even if it’s a lost opportunity to minister to a mom.

One of my objectives in blogging is to just be straight with you, to live honestly before whomever my audience may be. I got yuck hanging around that I expose to my Father’s vacuum and 409 on a regular basis, but I’ll always be disappointing if you check the interior closely enough.

So if you see me out and about in Flotown in my dressed up ride, wave and know that there are plenty of crumbs left under the cushions.