Old pain

Why is it that sometimes old hurts come up like newly struck oil, and seem to coat a whole day, a whole week, with the stickiness?  Have I not processed this pain?  Have I not grieved it enough, or is this just life, the way it has to be.  

I so want a child; so does my husband.  It just isn't happening for us.  We both believe (truly!) that God is in complete control of our lives in the big and small things.  We both believe He can work this out for us.  But it is the in-between-time that is so hard.  It is the waiting, having the patience with God as He does work everything out for our best.  For me, it isn't hard believing He's doing just that.  It is just hard waiting while He does it. 

I know that on a day like today when the sky is blue, and there's a fresh breeze blowing spring into town, my heart is tender.  The difficult things prick just a little harder; the beautiful moments stick with me just a little longer.  It all balances.  It all has its place.  And I know I can rest in that place - my place in this world.  Sometimes I'm just not too comfortable there. Today is a day like that.  

So I'll go on with my business, run my errands, stop and cry a few times along the way.  I'll plan a simple dinner, spend the evening with my hubby, and crawl into bed hoping that tomorrow I'll feel just a little cheerier, a little less fragile, and keep pressing on.  

New friends

Wow!  I just attended an amazing dinner party.  Our hostess somehow knew that the 6 of us would all enjoy one another and have a good time.  So much laughter, interesting conversation, insightful things said - just plain fun.  It was a truly wonderful evening.  

How it is that we sometimes just connect with people?  I could have listened to one guy talk all night.  I would like to spend more time with all these folks. 

Thanks, Friend (and new friends), for a GREAT evening.  You were the center of the wheel, the magnet that brought us all together.  You are wonderful on your own, but your hostessing us was a wonder on its own.

Pure gold

My wedding rings were stolen last October.  It's been six months.  Yesterday I was running errands around town, listening to talk radio.  An advertisement came on for an investment service - they were recommending people buy gold.  "It's never been worth nothing."  I looked down at my rings...and of course, they weren't there.  I cried - again.

Six months and I still miss them terribly.  I wore those rings for more than 17 years.  Some people say they're only objects.  I shouldn't be so upset.  To me they were far more than that.  How many times a day did I look down at my finger and smile, watch the diamond (modest though it was) sparkle in the sun?  Every time I looked at my ring I thought of Tim, our love, what he means to me, the years we've spent together, our joy.  

I also recognize that things shouldn't be the primary concern, we shouldn't become too attached to our possession, etc., blah, blah, blah.  I know all that.  Doesn't seem to change how I feel about those rings.  They were the two most special, prized "things" I owned.  I miss them.

Yuck!  We know we'll replace them, probably this summer or fall, but how will I feel the same way about them?  I guess only time will heal this wound.  When I look at my new rings, I'll remember the old ones, but I'll have to learn to love the new ones, too.  Time will tell.

Fresh bread

So earlier this week I made Arabic food (stuffed chicken, rice, hummus, etc.).  We wanted to eat the leftovers for dinner tonight, but had no pita.  I really didn't want to go to the store, so I picked up a cookbook a friend gave me years ago - The Complete Book of Breads.  Lo and behold, it had a pita bread recipe.  I whipped that up and it turned out pretty darn good.  I think I know how to make it even better, but was quite pleased with my first attempt - at altitude even!

Fun to experiment and have a success.  Fun to feed something yummy I made to my hubby.  Now it will be fun to go to bed.  I've had a long (although very nice) day, and am ready to snuggle up with a kittie and read for a while.  

Yumm, I can dream of fresh baked bread! 

Easter Sunday

I know my Saviour lives!  

What else, really, can I say today?  This is a truth by which (for which?) I live my life.  It gives my life direction and purpose, comforts my deepest soul, brings me peace in tough times, shows me the way to live, teaches me how to treat others, brings me deep joy, and motivates me to always work harder to improve myself.  

May your Easter be a day that reveals love, brings you joy, and shows you the way to go.

 

Favorite things

fat cats

preseason baseball

spring's first green

my husband's hands

telephone calls with sisters

praying with friends

leisurely bike rides

a great book

nice meals out

beautiful yarn

all my music

growing relationships

Just experimenting...

Someone told me I could put pictures on my blog, and I got all excited!  How about this one of my old kittie and husband?  Aren't they cute? 

Just life

Why is it that sometimes we can go along, living our daily lives, letting the hard things just roll off our backs, but sometimes those difficult situations stick to us like huge burrs?  I wish I could figure out a way to teflon coat myself and not have to worry about anything, but then I guess I wouldn't be very human, would I?  

This seems to be a week that I have a lot of burrs in my socks.  Sure wish I could disappear and just not worry for a few days.  I guess I'll have to try to do that emotionally.  What to do?  I'll spend some time with God, praying, focusing on verses that promise his peace and love - rest in that.  I'll take a walk every day, working out some of that stress.  I'll read a good, distracting book - read about someone else's troubles.  I'll seek out good advice and then try to follow it.    

The sun is shining, it's a beautiful day, I have my time to myself.  Why worry?  

Subbing

There's something to be said for working. There is something that feels good about getting dressed, going into work, knowing what I'm doing, being part of the team. Don't get me wrong - I don't at all regret no longer working a regular schedule. I love being a sub at the library! It is just perfect to go into work when I want to. Sound selfish? Let's not use that ugly word. Let's say I enjoy having a flexible schedule and accomplishing my many personal goals.

Subbing means I can still go home and enjoy some of the day for myself. I can still get my laundry done and some dishes washed, and still have energy to enjoy my ladies' meeting tonight. Subbing means I get to keep up with people at work, but I don't have to engage in any of the politics. I love it!

So, my day here is almost done, I'll grab some lunch, then head home to take care of my own stuff. Mission accomplished!

Sunday night

I love throwing a party!  I love the planning, the cooking, even the cleaning.  I love having people come to my house, listening to all their voices, the different conversations, the laughter that comes with gatherings.  I love the smiles, the exchanged look, listening to friends' stories.  I love the special few people who hang out after everyone else has left, and the talk becomes more frank, more honest.  Which moments do I love most?  Well, how can I choose?

But my question, for the void, is this:  Is it actually an act of selfishness and pride to have a party at my house?  Because here's where the dilemma comes in.  I receive many compliments about the food, my house, the decor.  People are very flattering.  Is that flattery my motivation, or is my motivation making others happy?  And are the nice things people say just a natural effect of doing my best, trying hard to please the person for whom I'm throwing the party?  I'll have to think on that one.  

Meanwhile, mission accomplished, friend sent off to wed happy.  She said some lovely things to me tonight, and I feel the same way about her.  Isn't that just like life, that we discover wonderful people just as their path is about to diverge from ours?  Well, on we go.  I wish my friend all the love and joy that I've found in my marriage.  I wish her laughter and snuggling.  I wish her amazing days and nights of wonder in this man she's found.  I wish her all the good things that love can bring, for years and years to come.  

Snowy white

Oh, joy!  I woke up this morning to big snowflakes falling!  I'm so glad we're getting at least one more dump before spring really arrives.  I'm probably the only one in the city who's truly happy about this, but it is just lovely.  And the nicest part?  I get to do two of my favorite things today - hang out at home and have lunch with a friend.  What a wonderful day!

My house

I love the quiet of my house in the mornings after Tim leaves.  The cats and I sit around, eating breakfast, getting ready for the day.  The rush hour traffic has passed and so the street is quiet, I can hear the birds (now that spring is coming), and the sun creeps slowly from window to window.  The cats' claws click-click on the hardwood floors; sometimes one sits on my lap, and we three just enjoy the unfolding of the day.  

It's the quiet that I love.  That peaceful hum of a house before activity is begun.  All my pretty things seem to be resting on their shelves, the pictures look out at me from the walls, and the walls themselves - their colors carefully chosen - speak of this as being my home.  I love the simple knowing of where things are, where they belong, the intimate knowledge of each cupboard.  I connect with this building as my nest, my space, again - my home.  

What makes it so?  What makes it more than just an abode, a place to sleep, eat, read?  Is it my things that makes it so?  Is it the time spent here?  Of course, it is all those things together. The energy I put into making it mine, the time spent here with Tim, the cats wandering around, putting my stuff just so, here and there, making it not only functional for me, but lovely to my eyes.

Whatever that magic is that turns a building into a home, I'm very thankful for it!  I don't take for granted that I have a place to call my own, to share with Tim and the kitties, in which I can create, relax, totally be me, and invite others in to share with me.  I don't take for granted that it is warm in winter and cool in summer, filled with color, filled with my memories embodied in my things (vases, pictures, decorations).  And I don't take for granted the love Tim and I share here, the love we've had for so long.  For him I'm supremely thankful.  

Little boy

How can words express the wonder of watching my nephew grow and change everytime I see him?  His mom had jury duty today and I watched him for a couple of hours.  He's cooing, talking to himself, telling little stories, playing contentedly with his toys.  I love the way he laughs and looks at me waiting to see if I'll think something's funny, too.  He throws himself into my arms, having no worry whether or not I'll catch him or even want to hold him.  He puts his arms around my neck and lays his head on my shoulder.  

It is wondrous!  It is a marvelous thing!  My, Zachary.

Good morning

Wow, what an amazing morning it is!  Looks like it's going to be about 60' today.  I have a full day of house cleaning planned, and I can do it with some windows open!  Now, you must know that I do love winter and I'd sincerely like to get one more great dump of snow, but time's running out for that even here in the mountains.  And there is something exciting about spring.... 

Here come the longer days, the tiny blossoms of trees, the first green of grass that seems to appear overnight.  The air smells different, the clouds look different, and the wind behaves differently.  We all get the urge to spend more time outside and the paths and parks beckon us.  

New starts in nature, the new year is maturing, those resolutions are either really forming solidly or dissipating.  and we're beginning to see the summer ahead.  Ah, the earth spins, we revolve around the sun, the view of the stars changes, and we continue our journey through the cosmos.  Ain't life grand?

Modern masters

My husband and I went on a double date tonight - the Fine Arts Center and dinner.  The FAC was hosting a traveling exhibit of Impressionists and Modern Masters - Monet, Picasso, Kandinsky, Chagall.  I was struck once again by these amazing artists' abilities to put on canvas (board, paper) what they see.  I cannot fathom how to I begin to do that.  

I love to look at great paintings from both far away and very close up - particularly with oil paintings.  There is something fascinating to me about the way the individual brushstrokes from just inches away seem so clearly to be just that - individual motions, dots of color, strokes of a brush.  From a few yards away, these separate entities come together to form a whole.  It was amazing observing this again tonight.  

And what is art, exactly?  Who defines what is great and what is just mediocre?  What is it that moves me and doesn't appeal to you?  Why does this one speak to my heart and that one leaves me cold?  I would love to understand that, but it must just be a complex mix of our individual eyes, how we see color, our experiences in the world, our personalities, what we value.  I would love to be able to put my world down on canvas  - to remember what I've seen and to express my emotions.  

Meanwhile, I'll just keep writing my thoughts down, taking my rolls of pictures, and enjoying the mastery of those whose hands can translate life to canvas.  

Songs and afternoons

Don't you sometimes hear a song that stays with you all day, that you hum as you walk the grocery store aisle or ride the elevator at work (that almost blank space in time where nothing happens and no significant conversation occurs), a song whose words float in your head, whose melody affects not just the way you see the sunshine but how it makes you feel?  It's almost like being in your own story, in your own song.  It's almost like floating above the world and seeing things through someone else's eyes.  Or being in place that feels like it's floating on a pier, not quite fettered to earth. 

I love the end of that kind of day, with the song playing on my stereo, filling my house, the sun going down, golden on this early spring day, making even that tiny bird's shadow flicker and hop, knowing that as I fall asleep, long after the stars have opened like the tiniest flowers,  I'll hear the melody and it will float me into a quiet place, hopefully filled with beauty and love.  

Feeling full

Well, it's time for bed and I've had a full day!  I feel satisfied, sated.  I did a lot today and feel good about everything I did.  I did housework, paid bills, read from a good book, did Bible study with 2 friends, substituted at the library, caught up on some correspondence, had a lovely dinner out, helped my sister babysit, calmed a screaming baby (twice), had a nice chat with my hubby, heard from a long-lost friend, and now I'm ready for bed.  

Don't some days just feel better than others?  Is this a lesson I can take into tomorrow?  Did today feel better than a day where I mostly watch TV?  What about a day when I follow the sun from room to room reading a wonderful book?  How about a day spent in the mountains hiking?  I think the only day that doesn't give me this kind of feeling is the TV day.  Yes, that's a lesson I can try to hold onto.  It's not necessarily that I got so much done today.  It's more that I just did a lot.  I spent time with people, was productive in my home, had some fun, and spent some lovely time with myself. 

I'll try to remember this from day to day...and see what tomorrow brings.

Clogged

What is it about a bad cold that makes you feel like you've got glue in your face?  Too much information for you?  Well, aren't I a whiner lately?  I guess my body just isn't ready to cooperate with all my grand plans I had for March - first month not working, getting ready for my big trip to Jordan, all that jazz. 

Well, fine!  I'll just take it easy for a few more days, get over this cold, and then hit my (crazy, long!) list next week.  I haven't got that much on it.  Probably only 10 things that I want to get done in March.  OK, I'll pare it down to 4.  That might be more manageable.  

Meanwhile, it's a good thing I stocked up on movies at Blockbuster, or I'd be b-o-r-e-d.  Oh, I am!  Hubby won't let me get off the couch, though.  And unlike his usual behavior, he's actually taking pretty good care of me this illness go-round.  Poor fellow.  He just doesn't know what to do with a wife under the weather. 

One more day, maybe two, and I'll be back to myself.  I'll let you know how it goes.