So, this coming week end I will fulfill a life goal...
For years I have said, somewhat facetiously, "When I grow up I want to be a retreat speaker." And this coming week end...I'm speaking at my first retreat. My debut. (I won't quit my day job...)
The theme for the week end is Psalm 119:105, "Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path."
On Friday night our pastor's wife will do a one hour Old Testament survey, and I'll do a 30 minute intro to who am I and what's my story.
Saturday morning she will do a 45 minute New Testament survey, and I'll have three sessions on Saturday: WHY study the Bible, HOW to study the Bible and LET'S study the Bible (where we'll study a passage together)
So as I'm finalizing my list of *why* study the Bible, I think to myself...I can't imagine life without reading the Bible regularly. How do women hold themselves together without that daily dose of Truth and encouragement? It is truly the glue that holds my fragile self together.
Most of the week end will be based on Psalm 119 , and two words which are often repeated there are "revive" (vs. 25, 37, 40,50,88,93,107, 154, 156,159) and "long" and/or "longing."(vs. 20,40,82,123,131, 174,) As I tried to succinctly express this in words, I remembered my favorite book of all time, "Fresh Brewed Life."
In this book which SO speaks to me (and makes me feel more *normal*), Nicole Johnson wrote an entire chapter entitled, "Listen to your Longings." I'll be reading a lot of it on Saturday morning.
Here's my favorite paragraph of the book: Are longings one big cosmic setup for frustration? Perhaps, if we view them as something to be overcome or eradicated. If we spend more time trying to get them "filled up." But if we lean in close, and put our ears to the chest of our soul and listen to our longings - they can teach us to understand God and ourselves in a way that would not happen if we were permitted to have everything we longed for. It's true, what we don't have shapes us more than what we have. We are like Swiss cheese, and the holes in us are actually supposed to be there. The holes are the places God has reserved in us for Himself! The longings identify our real hunger. A hunger that drives us to Him to be satisfied. If...big if...we listen. (p. 45)
Nicole says it so much more succinctly than I ever could. The longings of our hearts are there to bring us to God. And the psalmist agrees. He craves God's Word out of longing. The word "delight" is also plentiful in Psalm 119, as well as "revive." Why read God's Word? To be REVIVED.
I love that thought. I love that word: REVIVE!
If you're interested in the book, see my side bar, and link to the "Fresh Brewed Life" website.
This book spoke to me unlike anything else I have read, second only to the Bible. Truly. I must have read it just at the right time in life, just at the moment of most need. Reading it was like having coffee with a friend - a very close and intimate friend. It's the only book I own two of -- my copy and a lending copy. I love it THAT much!
"I need truth in stong doses like a great cup of coffee in the morning. I need to hear from God and be changed, every day." (p. x of the introduction)
"When we offer Him the whole-bean essence of ourselves and we submit to be finely ground, it will produce character in us." (p. 12)
Yes, the whole book is full of coffee analogy, and there are facts and recipes sprinkled throughout. It's a delicious read in more ways than one.
I'm going to curl up now, with a good cup of Nescafe Decaf and Coffee Mate Black Cherry Streusel creamer*, and reread this gem of a book. It's a book to read with journal in hand. And colored pencils, highlighters and post-it flags. (My copy is VERY colorful)
May the Lord *revive* you soon through His word as well! Ciao!
* This creamer may be the reason that 600 Starbucks stores are closing...it's THAT good!! Our Starbucks has definitely seen less of me since I discovered it! It is a limited release item....I'm stocking up!
9.07.2008
Queen
You'd probably have to know me to realize the ridiculousness of this, but this scene actually just occurred:
Jake, the 12 year old, is in his 3rd year of electric guitar, and he's pretty darn good. He plays all the time. Anyhow, he is learning some Queen songs, just to please his dear old mom and his older brother Joe. (I *loved* Queen in high school...knew every word and would sing along...Joey, our firstborn, could not believe it when he *discovered* Queen and his mom knew all the words! He was about 15...he's 21 now)
So after dinner, Jake picks up my acoustic guitar and says, "Mom...sing along!" And he starts jamming "Crazy Little Thing called Love." And so I sang, and Jake played. Anna took a photo from the foyer and could hardly breathe she was laughing so hard. "this," she said, "is my family..."
Ha. That was an unusual mother/son moment. But I loved it.
No, no world tour date has been set. I'll keep you posted...
Jake, the 12 year old, is in his 3rd year of electric guitar, and he's pretty darn good. He plays all the time. Anyhow, he is learning some Queen songs, just to please his dear old mom and his older brother Joe. (I *loved* Queen in high school...knew every word and would sing along...Joey, our firstborn, could not believe it when he *discovered* Queen and his mom knew all the words! He was about 15...he's 21 now)
So after dinner, Jake picks up my acoustic guitar and says, "Mom...sing along!" And he starts jamming "Crazy Little Thing called Love." And so I sang, and Jake played. Anna took a photo from the foyer and could hardly breathe she was laughing so hard. "this," she said, "is my family..."
Ha. That was an unusual mother/son moment. But I loved it.
No, no world tour date has been set. I'll keep you posted...
9.03.2008
Mental Health Morning
I took the morning off. I am desperately in need of a mental health break, and the children are delightfully OUT OF THE HOUSE at school.
Does that sound harsh? I do love my kids, but this return of peace and quiet is so so delicious.
I just need to sit and sigh, journal and putter. I feel better already!
My father spent two sets of three days, a week apart, in the hospital. End stage renal failure. He decided to go ahead with kidney dialysis, and is doing much better. He'll spend most of his Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays getting ready for, transporting to, and having dialysis (3.5 hours each time), but in exchange for that he will feel much better and live to enjoy the other 4 days each week. He'll be 83 two weeks from today. I thought we were going to lose him this last time...he was so so sick...but he is one tough old guy! A retired pastor, he spends his days at a reading machine (diabetes has greatly diminished his eyesight) keeping up with the sports news and reading God's Word. He is such a student, even 60 years after graduating from seminary. God bless him!
Four teenagers have really worn me out -- much for which to be thankful, but emotionally wearing all the same. They are supposed to be spreading their wings -- I keep reminding myself of that -- I just need to keep moving out of the way so I don't get smacked by the feathers. I tried recently to explain to our 15 year old daughter that even though her remarks may not seem like much to her, when you add them to three other kid's remarks, it is too much for a mother's heart. She looked at me like I've finally lost it and rolled her eyes. So much for a tender moment...
Work has been so full. I do work flexible hours, but with a big promotion and raise, it's hard to keep balanced... I want them to get their money's worth, and I want to stay on top of things...and ....well...
And so, my mental health morning. As the old song goes, time keeps on slipping, slipping, slipping...into the future... It has been delicious though. I've purposefully not made a list, but have come upon small projects and conquered them, written a few emails, updated my journal, studied Isaiah 24 (read that to know why Global Climate Change is occuring...it's all in His plans), and puttered. I LOVE puttering. At home. Alone.
And to think I'm an extrovert...hmmmmmm...
Does that sound harsh? I do love my kids, but this return of peace and quiet is so so delicious.
I just need to sit and sigh, journal and putter. I feel better already!
My father spent two sets of three days, a week apart, in the hospital. End stage renal failure. He decided to go ahead with kidney dialysis, and is doing much better. He'll spend most of his Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays getting ready for, transporting to, and having dialysis (3.5 hours each time), but in exchange for that he will feel much better and live to enjoy the other 4 days each week. He'll be 83 two weeks from today. I thought we were going to lose him this last time...he was so so sick...but he is one tough old guy! A retired pastor, he spends his days at a reading machine (diabetes has greatly diminished his eyesight) keeping up with the sports news and reading God's Word. He is such a student, even 60 years after graduating from seminary. God bless him!
Four teenagers have really worn me out -- much for which to be thankful, but emotionally wearing all the same. They are supposed to be spreading their wings -- I keep reminding myself of that -- I just need to keep moving out of the way so I don't get smacked by the feathers. I tried recently to explain to our 15 year old daughter that even though her remarks may not seem like much to her, when you add them to three other kid's remarks, it is too much for a mother's heart. She looked at me like I've finally lost it and rolled her eyes. So much for a tender moment...
Work has been so full. I do work flexible hours, but with a big promotion and raise, it's hard to keep balanced... I want them to get their money's worth, and I want to stay on top of things...and ....well...
And so, my mental health morning. As the old song goes, time keeps on slipping, slipping, slipping...into the future... It has been delicious though. I've purposefully not made a list, but have come upon small projects and conquered them, written a few emails, updated my journal, studied Isaiah 24 (read that to know why Global Climate Change is occuring...it's all in His plans), and puttered. I LOVE puttering. At home. Alone.
And to think I'm an extrovert...hmmmmmm...
9.02.2008
Somebody's Quilting
Well, the sewing machine has moved again. Recently I came into the family room to discover that our 21 year old had moved the couch forward - closer to the tv- for better gaming. And of course he didn't move it back when he finally went to bed in the early morning.
So...I got to thinking...hmmmm...there's three feet of open space there... my sewing machine and its custom table are now behind the couch. With the screen porch behind (the french doors are usually open) and the tv directly in front of me, I just might...sew! You just never know. In the meantime the sewing machine is swung into its table, and a lovely desktop is here for my laptop. Newfound space. You just gotta love it. I'm blogging and watching the Republican Convention news...I so rarely sit near a TV that this is quite a treat!
Our 19 year old daughter was laid off for the last two weeks of summer, so she started cutting 6 inch squares out of old t-shirts, prom dresses, skirts, and added a lot of squares from her mom's fabric stashes. Within a week she had a twin sized quilt for her dorm bed. She put batting between the pieced top and a large expanse of yellow fleece, and tied it in the corners of each squares...very old fashioned and comfy. She put together a very unconventional mixture of fabric types, polyester batting and polar fleece, but it is eclectic, full of memories and VERY warm.
There's something to be said for *not* planning the colors, the pattern and the placement. For one thing, her quilt is done, and my *planned ones* are ...just well thought plans!
Bird Plantings
The birds have been gardening. I pulled a million starts out of the garden (before I got smart and started baking my bird seed - an hour at 300 degrees and the spilled seed won't sprout!) but I left a couple sunflowers to see how they'd grow. And grow they did! This lovely plant, in the front entry garden, has multiple blooms and is supported by the birdfeeder. The birdfeeder belonged to my mom.
8.12.2008
State Fair 2008
Wisconsin State Fair is famous for its cream puffs. In fact, I read that 382,000 of them were sold during the eleven day fair which just ended on August 10th This year eight of the eleven days broke single-day-sales cream puff records.
And so, for those of you have not experienced the cream puff line, which winds through the cream puff building, I took some photos. The lines winds by windows where you watch the puffs get filled and powdered: the best marketing scheme available. By the time you reach the check out you're pretty sure you need a six pack... (yes...they do come in six packs...)
Enjoy the photos -- they are non fat and low carb.
8.09.2008
Delicious
I have spent the whole two hours on the couch. The ceiling fan is on, the breezes are blowing through the open windows, Boomer is sprawled on the floor nearby, a quilt magazine and a novel have been picked up and laid down numerous times. Rather than read, I have lazily watched the birds feed; the grasses, flowers and trees sway; and the onset and delivery of a summer rain shower. (thank you Lord -- "saturate garden" is now off my evening to-do list) It's been that hazy existence between napping and fully conscious...in and out, here and not...
Ahhhhhh.
A delicious and rare August reprise. These are the views out my livingroom window as I lay on the couch...
8.08.2008
Blue Skies
Words are rather important to me. (I hear you laughing, pianomom!) At worship practice this week we had a discussion on the lyrics to some of our worship songs. I find some hard to sing. For instance, we sing one that says "You're all I want, You're all I've ever needed..." Those words stall me. Can I honestly say to God, "You're all I want?" Really? He would beg to differ. If God were truly all I wanted, life would be a whole lot simpler. And so, I add a few words (when I'm in the audience, not on the team)..."You're all I want to want..."
Words matter.
Perhaps that is why I so love examining Scripture with women. I notice the words. Every jot and tittle. Wondrous, inspired words.
This week I am singing a solo at church. On our trip we used my ipod, and I rediscovered a song by Point of Grace (love that name - hee hee) entitled, "Blue Skies." This song hits home for me. I'm not sure why, but I seem to be in a constant discussion with myself about how good God is, and how blessed I am. It's natural for me to focus on what is missing, rather than on the blessings. But these words...whew. To practice, I listen to a song a hundred times in the car. Literally. And this week, I needed these words to be my mantra.
If you have itunes, I encourage you to go download the song. It will lift your day. Enjoy.
On days of gray
When doubt clouds my view
Its so hard to see past my tears
My strength seems to fade
And its all I can do
To hold on, till the light reappears.
Still, I believe though some rain's bound to fall
That You're here next to me And You're over it all.
CHORUS
Lord, the sky's still blue
For my hope is in You
You're my joy, You're the dream that’s still alive
Like the wind at my back
And the sun on my face
You are life, You're grace.
You are blue skies, You're my blue skies
When nights are long
Seems the dark has no end
Still we walk on in light of the truth
For waiting beyond, where the morning begins
Is the dawn, and Your mercy anew.
Oh, to believe we're alive in Your love
There is so much to see, if we keep looking up
Lord, the sky's still blue
For my hope is in You
You're my joy, You're the dream that’s still alive
Like the wind at my back
And the sun on my face
You are life, You're grace.
You are blue skies, You're my blue skies
You filled the heavens with hope and a higher love
A picture of promise for life.
Lord, the sky's still blue
For my hope is in You
You're my joy,
You're the dream that’s still alive
Like the wind at my back
And the sun on my face
You are life, You're grace.
You are blue skies, You're my blue skies
Words matter.
Perhaps that is why I so love examining Scripture with women. I notice the words. Every jot and tittle. Wondrous, inspired words.
This week I am singing a solo at church. On our trip we used my ipod, and I rediscovered a song by Point of Grace (love that name - hee hee) entitled, "Blue Skies." This song hits home for me. I'm not sure why, but I seem to be in a constant discussion with myself about how good God is, and how blessed I am. It's natural for me to focus on what is missing, rather than on the blessings. But these words...whew. To practice, I listen to a song a hundred times in the car. Literally. And this week, I needed these words to be my mantra.
If you have itunes, I encourage you to go download the song. It will lift your day. Enjoy.
On days of gray
When doubt clouds my view
Its so hard to see past my tears
My strength seems to fade
And its all I can do
To hold on, till the light reappears.
Still, I believe though some rain's bound to fall
That You're here next to me And You're over it all.
CHORUS
Lord, the sky's still blue
For my hope is in You
You're my joy, You're the dream that’s still alive
Like the wind at my back
And the sun on my face
You are life, You're grace.
You are blue skies, You're my blue skies
When nights are long
Seems the dark has no end
Still we walk on in light of the truth
For waiting beyond, where the morning begins
Is the dawn, and Your mercy anew.
Oh, to believe we're alive in Your love
There is so much to see, if we keep looking up
Lord, the sky's still blue
For my hope is in You
You're my joy, You're the dream that’s still alive
Like the wind at my back
And the sun on my face
You are life, You're grace.
You are blue skies, You're my blue skies
You filled the heavens with hope and a higher love
A picture of promise for life.
Lord, the sky's still blue
For my hope is in You
You're my joy,
You're the dream that’s still alive
Like the wind at my back
And the sun on my face
You are life, You're grace.
You are blue skies, You're my blue skies
8.04.2008
vacation
Sometimes I think I lose sight of me.
Today I am in the car (rented minivan if you must know) with the rare commodity of time on my hands. 19 hours from Winter Park, Colorado to home in Wisconsin. An early morning stop at Barnes & Noble in Denver equipped me with four things: the autumn 2008 issue of "Artful Blogging," the August edition of "cards : the hottest trend in card making," a top spiral journal/sketchpad, (unopened...will be used for an artsy prayer journal/verse list) and a book mark called "hold that thought" which is a clear plastic holder of neon flag post it notes.
Blissful hours later I have savored all of "cards" and it is happily highlighted and post-it-noted. I have read some favorite Psalms, and some of Isaiah (my current read), I have written pages of notes for a women's retreat I'm speaking at in September, I've caught up on sending a few emails via my Blackberry (amazing to send email at 70 mph)(no, I'm not driving!!) And now "artful blogging" is half savored and festively flagged.
As I get inspired I realize the joy I have in creativity. And the sad fact that creativity can be pushed so quickly off my to do list.
In reading a lot about mixed media art I'm close to salivating. The art blog photos are bringing my creative juices to the forefront, and greeting cards might be an attainable medium. (Small intimate hellos to cherished friends). I think of the row of old hymnbooks I have...what lovely backgounds those pages would make. And I have literally thousands of my father's hand written sermons. (He was an ordained minister for over 50 years). My mom's journal dated 1942 is on my dresser...and two redwork quilts are downstairs. (My great grandmother would trace product logos and then embroider them in red floss. Although the quilts have holes, certainly I can salvage some of her handwork.)
If I could find some more minutes for creativity, I'm thinking it would help me to sweat the small stuff a little less. It brings joy, true joy, just to read and savor...how much more to actually create?
Daylight hours are fading. I'm writing this blog as an email to myself...from somewhere east of Omaha...at 70 mph at 7:10 pm. Time to get back to reading "artful blogging" and writing in my moleskine as inspiration hits.
I need more of this.
Roadtrip anyone?
Today I am in the car (rented minivan if you must know) with the rare commodity of time on my hands. 19 hours from Winter Park, Colorado to home in Wisconsin. An early morning stop at Barnes & Noble in Denver equipped me with four things: the autumn 2008 issue of "Artful Blogging," the August edition of "cards : the hottest trend in card making," a top spiral journal/sketchpad, (unopened...will be used for an artsy prayer journal/verse list) and a book mark called "hold that thought" which is a clear plastic holder of neon flag post it notes.
Blissful hours later I have savored all of "cards" and it is happily highlighted and post-it-noted. I have read some favorite Psalms, and some of Isaiah (my current read), I have written pages of notes for a women's retreat I'm speaking at in September, I've caught up on sending a few emails via my Blackberry (amazing to send email at 70 mph)(no, I'm not driving!!) And now "artful blogging" is half savored and festively flagged.
As I get inspired I realize the joy I have in creativity. And the sad fact that creativity can be pushed so quickly off my to do list.
In reading a lot about mixed media art I'm close to salivating. The art blog photos are bringing my creative juices to the forefront, and greeting cards might be an attainable medium. (Small intimate hellos to cherished friends). I think of the row of old hymnbooks I have...what lovely backgounds those pages would make. And I have literally thousands of my father's hand written sermons. (He was an ordained minister for over 50 years). My mom's journal dated 1942 is on my dresser...and two redwork quilts are downstairs. (My great grandmother would trace product logos and then embroider them in red floss. Although the quilts have holes, certainly I can salvage some of her handwork.)
If I could find some more minutes for creativity, I'm thinking it would help me to sweat the small stuff a little less. It brings joy, true joy, just to read and savor...how much more to actually create?
Daylight hours are fading. I'm writing this blog as an email to myself...from somewhere east of Omaha...at 70 mph at 7:10 pm. Time to get back to reading "artful blogging" and writing in my moleskine as inspiration hits.
I need more of this.
Roadtrip anyone?
7.30.2008
On Vacation
It must be vacation, because:
-I'm actually blogging! Sitting in one place and thinking enough to find something to write!
-My journal is overflowing. I'm writing the events, processing feelings that get brushed over in the busyness of life, taping in ticket stubs and bits of flyers...
-My body is aching (in a good way) from the increased physical activity
-I'm getting 8 or more hours of sleep each night
-I've read two, count that TWO novels in the last 5 days
-It's the middle of the day, and I'm finding myself enjoying cutting up celery, onion and cooked chicken for a chicken pasta salad to serve with dinner. I don't HAVE to, I'm not trying to squeeze it in...I just had the urge to make a salad for my family.
Our family is in Colorado, in Winter's Park. Our 21 year old is not with us, so there are 5 not 6. We have a 3 bedroom condo with 3 bathrooms...which is so incredibly luxurious compared to six in a hotel room or six in a tent!
The scenery is stunning, the pace is relaxed, and yet...
...vacation is a tender time for me. I think it is because my life is so full, and some of my pain is masked by busyness. I take time to be real with God each morning, but some of my aches and longings just get squashed beneath the to do list and the grocery list... there's never time to explore them. So many blog ideas come and go...there's not time to sit and record them. Correction: I don't take the time to sit and record them. (We all have 24 hours a day...)
But on vacation, the layers start to come off. Like an onion, I begin to shed skins. The skin of weariness peeled away after 20 hours of cat napping in the car and 10 hours of sleep our first night here. The skin of work began to shed as my Blackberry stayed on my bedside table instead of in my pocket. The skin of toughness is shed as I spend hour after hour with two teen age girls and one 12 year old boy. I wrote in my journal yesterday: is parenting teens supposed to be this painful? They seem to have an opposing opinion, a question or a remark for every facet of my life. "You're going to wear that? You're not going to curl your hair? You want us to do what? You'd actually buy that? I'll do it later. I'll get to it. I don't want to do that. Why should I set the table? It's vacation...why should I wash dishes? Why do I have to go check the laundry?" It just NEVER ENDS. And I seem more vulnerable...more susceptible...now that my layers are less. I'm not just reprimanding on the run...I'm feeling hurt by the lack of consideration. I'm missing adult interaction and cooperation. Nobody talks to me like this at work!
LATER: Well, I never got this posted...and now I'm back into the daily grind. Our vacation sped by, and was filled with much activity and much relaxation.
Interestingly, as I heard my 19 year old on the phone upon our return, her response was "Oh...we had a GREAT time..." She didn't mention once (at least not in my hearing) how hopeless her parents were... That's encouraging!
-I'm actually blogging! Sitting in one place and thinking enough to find something to write!
-My journal is overflowing. I'm writing the events, processing feelings that get brushed over in the busyness of life, taping in ticket stubs and bits of flyers...
-My body is aching (in a good way) from the increased physical activity
-I'm getting 8 or more hours of sleep each night
-I've read two, count that TWO novels in the last 5 days
-It's the middle of the day, and I'm finding myself enjoying cutting up celery, onion and cooked chicken for a chicken pasta salad to serve with dinner. I don't HAVE to, I'm not trying to squeeze it in...I just had the urge to make a salad for my family.
Our family is in Colorado, in Winter's Park. Our 21 year old is not with us, so there are 5 not 6. We have a 3 bedroom condo with 3 bathrooms...which is so incredibly luxurious compared to six in a hotel room or six in a tent!
The scenery is stunning, the pace is relaxed, and yet...
...vacation is a tender time for me. I think it is because my life is so full, and some of my pain is masked by busyness. I take time to be real with God each morning, but some of my aches and longings just get squashed beneath the to do list and the grocery list... there's never time to explore them. So many blog ideas come and go...there's not time to sit and record them. Correction: I don't take the time to sit and record them. (We all have 24 hours a day...)
But on vacation, the layers start to come off. Like an onion, I begin to shed skins. The skin of weariness peeled away after 20 hours of cat napping in the car and 10 hours of sleep our first night here. The skin of work began to shed as my Blackberry stayed on my bedside table instead of in my pocket. The skin of toughness is shed as I spend hour after hour with two teen age girls and one 12 year old boy. I wrote in my journal yesterday: is parenting teens supposed to be this painful? They seem to have an opposing opinion, a question or a remark for every facet of my life. "You're going to wear that? You're not going to curl your hair? You want us to do what? You'd actually buy that? I'll do it later. I'll get to it. I don't want to do that. Why should I set the table? It's vacation...why should I wash dishes? Why do I have to go check the laundry?" It just NEVER ENDS. And I seem more vulnerable...more susceptible...now that my layers are less. I'm not just reprimanding on the run...I'm feeling hurt by the lack of consideration. I'm missing adult interaction and cooperation. Nobody talks to me like this at work!
LATER: Well, I never got this posted...and now I'm back into the daily grind. Our vacation sped by, and was filled with much activity and much relaxation.
Interestingly, as I heard my 19 year old on the phone upon our return, her response was "Oh...we had a GREAT time..." She didn't mention once (at least not in my hearing) how hopeless her parents were... That's encouraging!
6.30.2008
Balance
I'm blogging from my desk at work...while eating a salad...while a proposal prints behind me. Multi tasking is the word of the month, and what a month it has been.
Does my current age of 45 years have anything to do with the pace at which I live? It seems I should be, am, in my prime. Life is good, but wow is it full!
Today is a typical Monday. I'm supposed to be off on Mondays, and so I scheduled a vet visit for Boomer at 8:45 am. (a day "off" is an oxymoron) With a written proposal due Wednesday, work is a necessity today, so in I came after the vet visit (and $280 later...) But, backing up from that...I arose at 6 am, showered, and headed to the kitchen. While the coffee reheated in the microwave, I wiped the kitchen table, put away a few straggling groceries and a few dry dishes, walked through the living room and family room picking up and straightening. A load went into the wash and into the dryer. 15 minutes after my coffee had been hot I took it and my Bible and journal into the screen room and listened to the birds for a bit. Journaling and reading the Word help infuse "balance" into my life, as does the kitchen clean up routine each morning. Some might prefer the extra 1.5 hours of sleep, but for me this pre work routine is a necessity.
So, is that balance? Have I arrived? I still feel a bit harried, but what else would balance look like? I guess I wouldn't want to be sitting with nothing on the agenda (ok...I'll be glad to give that a try) and yet something does not feel quite relaxed enough.
Soaking in the Word does fill me up for the day. As does just sipping a good cup of Joe and staring at the beauty of God's creation. (Honestly I still can't believe I get to live here)
Once at work I dove right in, and also received text messages from Child # 3 and Child #4 who had awakened and read mom's "list" for the day. Some days I have the mother guilt of children home without me (age 12 and 15) but the reality is that when I'm home on the week end or on a Monday, they are either in bed or off and running. Do I need to be home for that?
And so, the quest for balance. Sustaining a life of physical, emotional, spiritual and mental growth and activity is stressful all in itself!
How do YOU measure balance? How do you know when you have arrived?
Does my current age of 45 years have anything to do with the pace at which I live? It seems I should be, am, in my prime. Life is good, but wow is it full!
Today is a typical Monday. I'm supposed to be off on Mondays, and so I scheduled a vet visit for Boomer at 8:45 am. (a day "off" is an oxymoron) With a written proposal due Wednesday, work is a necessity today, so in I came after the vet visit (and $280 later...) But, backing up from that...I arose at 6 am, showered, and headed to the kitchen. While the coffee reheated in the microwave, I wiped the kitchen table, put away a few straggling groceries and a few dry dishes, walked through the living room and family room picking up and straightening. A load went into the wash and into the dryer. 15 minutes after my coffee had been hot I took it and my Bible and journal into the screen room and listened to the birds for a bit. Journaling and reading the Word help infuse "balance" into my life, as does the kitchen clean up routine each morning. Some might prefer the extra 1.5 hours of sleep, but for me this pre work routine is a necessity.
So, is that balance? Have I arrived? I still feel a bit harried, but what else would balance look like? I guess I wouldn't want to be sitting with nothing on the agenda (ok...I'll be glad to give that a try) and yet something does not feel quite relaxed enough.
Soaking in the Word does fill me up for the day. As does just sipping a good cup of Joe and staring at the beauty of God's creation. (Honestly I still can't believe I get to live here)
Once at work I dove right in, and also received text messages from Child # 3 and Child #4 who had awakened and read mom's "list" for the day. Some days I have the mother guilt of children home without me (age 12 and 15) but the reality is that when I'm home on the week end or on a Monday, they are either in bed or off and running. Do I need to be home for that?
And so, the quest for balance. Sustaining a life of physical, emotional, spiritual and mental growth and activity is stressful all in itself!
How do YOU measure balance? How do you know when you have arrived?
6.17.2008
This too shall pass.
Yes, we are still alive in Milwaukee. But we're soggy!
What a long ten days this has been. The photo shows the morning of June 7. Our late blooming variety of lilacs were just opening, filling the screen porch with the fragrance of heaven. I snuck out early to catch the morning sun and the glorious blooms.
By Sunday morning the bush was pretty much flattened. Inches...7-9, depending on who's counting...of driving rain hit us like a freight train. It just continued and continued, not allowing the earth to gulp it in fast enough. And so...the rain sought low ground.
Our basement was flooded. We knew we had seepage problems on the long south wall, and we had moved some brown dirt to try to alleviate it...but seepage was nothing compared to what we experienced on June 7 and 8. Our sump pump ran continuously...no breaks...for hours on end. And at one point it just couldn't contain the water and the water seemingly flowed through the walls. Thankfully it was one fell swoop, and thankfully it was clean rain water. Many people experienced a mixture of rain and sewer back up.
And so we began the process of lifting all boxes, and all portable furniture, to higher ground. WHAT A JOB. The helplessness and loss of control is a bit overwhelming. It's a force with which to reckon, and there is no time to wallow in pity...it's all hands on deck.
Our daughters moved into the family room, as their lower level bedroom was soggy wet. Since they prefer storing their clothes on the floor rather than the dresser and closet, there were endless loads of laundry. Their belongings, and our belongings, were piled in the garage to dry, and stashed in nooks and crannies throughout the first floor. One word described it from my perspective: chaos.
Long (very long) story short, we fared quite well. Some homes in our village had feet of water in the basement. We had just a covering, and just in one short time span. A lot of shop vac-ing, and a lot of carpet steaming later, our basement is dry but for the corners. We were able to purchase a large industrial fan, and we have a brand new dehumidifier. They are running constantly. The lower bedroom double egress window allows much fresh air in. The drywall and baseboard appear fine, and the carpet is dry and clean.
The Bible verse that kept coming to me was Matthew 6:19:
Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal; for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
I learned a lot this last week.
I learned to treasure a *normal* day. The dull and the routine is quite lovely, actually.
I learned to cope in chaos, and that I need some semblance of order in order to cope well. I kept the living room -- my quiet time spot, and my view to the park -- clear of the piles. I needed one spot to which to escape and look out.
I learned compassion. Seeing a flood on the news will never again be simply cerebral. Been there. Done that.
And I learned, well, I'm learning, that stuff is just stuff. Simpler is better and less is more. Our basement will end up with less in it, I guarantee you!
And I remembered the saying in which my mother found much comfort: This too shall pass. And it has. They're calling it the storm of the century, the "100 year rain." We made it. We're safe and we're sound. This too has passed. Thank you, Father.
What a long ten days this has been. The photo shows the morning of June 7. Our late blooming variety of lilacs were just opening, filling the screen porch with the fragrance of heaven. I snuck out early to catch the morning sun and the glorious blooms.
By Sunday morning the bush was pretty much flattened. Inches...7-9, depending on who's counting...of driving rain hit us like a freight train. It just continued and continued, not allowing the earth to gulp it in fast enough. And so...the rain sought low ground.
Our basement was flooded. We knew we had seepage problems on the long south wall, and we had moved some brown dirt to try to alleviate it...but seepage was nothing compared to what we experienced on June 7 and 8. Our sump pump ran continuously...no breaks...for hours on end. And at one point it just couldn't contain the water and the water seemingly flowed through the walls. Thankfully it was one fell swoop, and thankfully it was clean rain water. Many people experienced a mixture of rain and sewer back up.
And so we began the process of lifting all boxes, and all portable furniture, to higher ground. WHAT A JOB. The helplessness and loss of control is a bit overwhelming. It's a force with which to reckon, and there is no time to wallow in pity...it's all hands on deck.
Our daughters moved into the family room, as their lower level bedroom was soggy wet. Since they prefer storing their clothes on the floor rather than the dresser and closet, there were endless loads of laundry. Their belongings, and our belongings, were piled in the garage to dry, and stashed in nooks and crannies throughout the first floor. One word described it from my perspective: chaos.
Long (very long) story short, we fared quite well. Some homes in our village had feet of water in the basement. We had just a covering, and just in one short time span. A lot of shop vac-ing, and a lot of carpet steaming later, our basement is dry but for the corners. We were able to purchase a large industrial fan, and we have a brand new dehumidifier. They are running constantly. The lower bedroom double egress window allows much fresh air in. The drywall and baseboard appear fine, and the carpet is dry and clean.
The Bible verse that kept coming to me was Matthew 6:19:
Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal; for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
I learned a lot this last week.
I learned to treasure a *normal* day. The dull and the routine is quite lovely, actually.
I learned to cope in chaos, and that I need some semblance of order in order to cope well. I kept the living room -- my quiet time spot, and my view to the park -- clear of the piles. I needed one spot to which to escape and look out.
I learned compassion. Seeing a flood on the news will never again be simply cerebral. Been there. Done that.
And I learned, well, I'm learning, that stuff is just stuff. Simpler is better and less is more. Our basement will end up with less in it, I guarantee you!
And I remembered the saying in which my mother found much comfort: This too shall pass. And it has. They're calling it the storm of the century, the "100 year rain." We made it. We're safe and we're sound. This too has passed. Thank you, Father.
5.27.2008
Economic Stimulous Package
WELL...
since we received a check from the government in hopes of stimulating the economy, it seemed unAmerican to not turn around and spend it...
And since my husband and I could use some relationship time, as well as some exercise...
And since we live in an enclosed suburb where everything we need is within two or three miles...
We chose to spend most of our check on a kind of fun item.
Yep, that's a TREK tandem bike (who knew?) with a removable basket, a light, a bell and a tripometer. (my husband, the accountant, of course wants to log in miles and speeds...) We've taken it on a few test runs, and even those have reminded me of muscles long forgotten!
This is more relationally challenging than you might guess, for the person in the back has no brakes, no gears, and no steering. The person in the front has to communicate all intentions of turning, since the person in the back has to lean properly. Even coasting at the same time is a challenge.
This might indeed improve marital trust and communication!
5.17.2008
5.14.2008
Hesed
Hosea 6:6 is an old testament summary of what is important to God:
Hosea 6:6 (NASB95) For I delight in loyalty rather than sacrifice, And in the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings.
The word "loyalty" is an interesting translation of Strongs number 2617: Chesed. Hesed. "This aspect of God is one of several important features of His character: truth; faithfulness; mercy; steadfastness; justice; righteousness; goodness." (Complete Word Study Dictionary Old Testament)
Hesed: lovingkindness, mercy, love, and in the New Testament, grace.
I have begun marking this word in all its forms in my Bible. I color it over with a light blue cloud with a yellow outline, the same way that Precepts suggests marking the word "grace." Marking key words in my Bible helps me to concentrate, and it makes the words and the concepts pop off the page.
God's lovingkindness is at the base of who He is. Psalm 136 uses the word 26 times. Read it here and ponder anew what God's lovingkindness entails. Make a list. When you start to dig into it, the list might surprise you!
God delights in lovingkindness and in knowledge of Him. Do our priorities reflect a desire to delight Him?
" Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good, For His lovingkindness is everlasting. Give thanks to the God of gods, For His lovingkindness is everlasting. Give thanks to the Lord of lords, For His lovingkindness is everlasting. To Him who alone does great wonders, For His lovingkindness is everlasting; To Him who made the heavens with skill, For His lovingkindness is everlasting; To Him who spread out the earth above the waters, For His lovingkindness is everlasting; To Him who made the great lights, For His lovingkindness is everlasting: The sun to rule by day, For His lovingkindness is everlasting, The moon and stars to rule by night, For His lovingkindness is everlasting. To Him who smote the Egyptians in their firstborn, For His lovingkindness is everlasting, And brought Israel out from their midst, For His lovingkindness is everlasting, With a strong hand and an outstretched arm, For His lovingkindness is everlasting. To Him who divided the Red Sea asunder, For His lovingkindness is everlasting, And made Israel pass through the midst of it, For His lovingkindness is everlasting; But He overthrew Pharaoh and his army in the Red Sea, For His lovingkindness is everlasting. To Him who led His people through the wilderness, For His lovingkindness is everlasting; To Him who smote great kings, For His lovingkindness is everlasting, And slew mighty kings, For His lovingkindness is everlasting: Sihon, king of the Amorites, For His lovingkindness is everlasting, And Og, king of Bashan, For His lovingkindness is everlasting, And gave their land as a heritage, For His lovingkindness is everlasting, Even a heritage to Israel His servant, For His lovingkindness is everlasting. Who remembered us in our low estate, For His lovingkindness is everlasting, And has rescued us from our adversaries, For His lovingkindness is everlasting; Who gives food to all flesh, For His lovingkindness is everlasting. Give thanks to the God of heaven, For His lovingkindness is everlasting." (Psalm 136, NASB95)
Hosea 6:6 (NASB95) For I delight in loyalty rather than sacrifice, And in the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings.
The word "loyalty" is an interesting translation of Strongs number 2617: Chesed. Hesed. "This aspect of God is one of several important features of His character: truth; faithfulness; mercy; steadfastness; justice; righteousness; goodness." (Complete Word Study Dictionary Old Testament)
Hesed: lovingkindness, mercy, love, and in the New Testament, grace.
I have begun marking this word in all its forms in my Bible. I color it over with a light blue cloud with a yellow outline, the same way that Precepts suggests marking the word "grace." Marking key words in my Bible helps me to concentrate, and it makes the words and the concepts pop off the page.
God's lovingkindness is at the base of who He is. Psalm 136 uses the word 26 times. Read it here and ponder anew what God's lovingkindness entails. Make a list. When you start to dig into it, the list might surprise you!
God delights in lovingkindness and in knowledge of Him. Do our priorities reflect a desire to delight Him?
" Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good, For His lovingkindness is everlasting. Give thanks to the God of gods, For His lovingkindness is everlasting. Give thanks to the Lord of lords, For His lovingkindness is everlasting. To Him who alone does great wonders, For His lovingkindness is everlasting; To Him who made the heavens with skill, For His lovingkindness is everlasting; To Him who spread out the earth above the waters, For His lovingkindness is everlasting; To Him who made the great lights, For His lovingkindness is everlasting: The sun to rule by day, For His lovingkindness is everlasting, The moon and stars to rule by night, For His lovingkindness is everlasting. To Him who smote the Egyptians in their firstborn, For His lovingkindness is everlasting, And brought Israel out from their midst, For His lovingkindness is everlasting, With a strong hand and an outstretched arm, For His lovingkindness is everlasting. To Him who divided the Red Sea asunder, For His lovingkindness is everlasting, And made Israel pass through the midst of it, For His lovingkindness is everlasting; But He overthrew Pharaoh and his army in the Red Sea, For His lovingkindness is everlasting. To Him who led His people through the wilderness, For His lovingkindness is everlasting; To Him who smote great kings, For His lovingkindness is everlasting, And slew mighty kings, For His lovingkindness is everlasting: Sihon, king of the Amorites, For His lovingkindness is everlasting, And Og, king of Bashan, For His lovingkindness is everlasting, And gave their land as a heritage, For His lovingkindness is everlasting, Even a heritage to Israel His servant, For His lovingkindness is everlasting. Who remembered us in our low estate, For His lovingkindness is everlasting, And has rescued us from our adversaries, For His lovingkindness is everlasting; Who gives food to all flesh, For His lovingkindness is everlasting. Give thanks to the God of heaven, For His lovingkindness is everlasting." (Psalm 136, NASB95)
5.12.2008
Mother's Day
Mother's Day brought many emotions as it always does.
My mother has been gone for four years...celebrating in heaven with Rachel, my sister who died at birth, 15 years before I was born. My mother was a very difficult person, haunted by her own childhood and also mental illness, so even when she was alive Mother's Day was difficult.
Frank's mother lives less than a block away, along with his father. She is a saint of a mother, and highly revered by her five children. Unfortunately, her idea of Mother's Day is to find a restaurant that will hold all 28 of us and sit in long rows for a buffet. She is the reigning matriarch, and I begrudge her nothing...it's her day. However, I really dislike the cattle like feeling of Mother's Day at a buffet. Yesterday I found a niece, Allison, age 9, to buddy with, and so that was fun. There are 16 grand children, ten of which are 9 and under. It's a bit of a zoo.
Joey, our oldest, had two final exams yesterday. There's something unamerican about an institution having finals on Mother's Day. I did awake to a "beep" on my Blackberry at 1 am Sunday with a Happy Mother's Day message from him. And he called after his exams, hoping we'd come and take him to dinner. We opted not to spend the 3 hours round trip in the car at that point. We'll visit him soon.
Emily, first daughter, had sent a card earlier in the week. She is very creative, and made the card with scrapbooking papers, sequins, and pudgy paint pens. I could imagine her and her buddies having a craft day. That so warms my heart because it is so...like me! :) Emily also called mid afternoon which was a lovely treat.
Jake, my baby (and always will be, though he's 5'6" at age 12) proudly presented me with a Starbucks gift card inscribed to me. That's my boy!
Anna, age 15, did nothing. I wrote in my journal in the afternoon that while that was disappointing, honestly, it is what is to be expected from age 15. Normal is good.
Frank and I had ventured to Home Depot's garden center on Saturday, and there I picked out a gerbera daisy in orange...potted with some grasses. The picture is above. For now it is on our kitchen table, but it will make the transition to outdoors for the summer. Gerbera daisies are the epitome of "happy" flower to me...they simply make me smile. I've never had much luck keeping them alive though. But...try, try, try again. Frank's gift of flowers (flowers are always a winner for me!) was supplemented by two cards on my pillow on Sunday morning, one being from a dog's perspective, from Boomer. That made me laugh.
And so Mother's Day was.
Once home from the herding buffet, the day was my own. I chose to spread out with laptop and Bible study, getting my lesson for the week organized while blogging and reading blogs. Purely delightful. Also enjoyed the Sunday Times. We shared a frozen pizza well into the evening -- we were all still full from the buffet.
At midnight I snuck into our room, and as I lay down my head encountered a book on my pillow. The night light revealed a small journal. Instant tears. This small book had been passed between Anna and I for a few years, starting when she was 7. There are maybe 2 dozen entries total...half hers and half mine. The last post had been June 19, 2003. That is until Anna added 3 pages yesterday: May 11, 2008.
I have no idea where she found it. So many keepsakes are still boxed from our move. I read the old entries...and wept. What a treasure. And then I read the three pages from yesterday.
Three pages from a 15 year old's heart. She apologized for a few hurts. She asked for my prayers. She related her excitement of prom this coming Friday. She thanked me. And then she wrote this:
Thank you again for everything. You a great mom. (sic) And even though sometimes I forget for selfish reasons, I want you to know that I wouldn't choose anyone other than you to be there for me. I'm sorry for all the times I have caused you pain (I know there has been a lot) and I'm sorry for all the times I may hurt you again (hopefully far less). I love you mom and happy mother's day. Love ya! Anna. xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxox Oh! And here's a coupon for a cup of coffee and a girls outing on me! Use it wisely. :P
Well, let me tell you that this mother's heart drifted off to sleep quite contentedly. Beyond that. We have four children, age 12 to 20, and even in these difficult tween and teen years I am blessed to have open communication and good relations with each of them. What more could a mother's day hold?
5.11.2008
The New York Times
For the second week in a row I've picked up the Sunday NY Times. Truth be known I get it for the crossword puzzle, but it's actually quite interesting to peruse.
"Book Review" is a great section, even if just to see the lists of Best Sellers and read short synopses of recent releases. I was surprised to see Friday Night Knitting Club as the number four paperback in "Trade Fiction." (don't know what "trade fiction" designates...) Loving Frank is number 9. In my humble opinion there is no comparison in the writing of these two books...Frank being one of the most beautifully written books I've ever read.
One review really irritates me. In fact the book title irritates me: The Ten-Year Nap. The premise appears to be that now that main character Amy has a ten year old, and since she has given up her career to stay home for ten years, she is at loose ends. The review describes the book as asking the question "...what is the proper role for a postindustrial, post second-wave-of-feminism woman at midlife?"
Hmmmm. The main character is 41 -- is there not plenty of time left for career? (she's a lawyer!) The child is ten -- does he not still need a lot of care and direction? And GOOD GRIEF...raising this son is described as a "nap?" That is so offensive that I'm blogging about a book I'll never read! A woman, Penelope Green, wrote the book. Does she have children? A nap? As in life is on hold while I rest up for ten years? A nap?!?!
Ok...whew...I'll move on...
I enjoyed receiving my NYTimes today: at the drive through window at Starbucks. Ha. It doesn't get lazier than that. Did you know the Sunday Times is 5 bucks? You better believe I'll look through ALL the sections...
Some *might* suggest that I have a purse obsession, (which actually would make a great blog post some day), but my bag investment looks like small potatoes when compared with those featured in the "The New York Times Magazine." (the same section that contains the Sunday crossword) The Dior bag in "Style" comes in at $8,990. whew. And I thought I was splurging on Coach...
The "Travel" section highlights Morocco today, a destination as likely for me as the Dior store...
"Sunday Styles" points us to a blog on "Mad Pride," "A movement about mental illness in the style of gay pride." Hmmmm. Is that not an offensive comparison? Hmmmm. "Just as gay-rights activists reclaimed the word queer as a badge of honor rather than a slur, these advocates proudly call themselves mad; they say their conditions do not preclude them from productive lives." Queer is a badge of honor? Who knew? "A Bonkersfest in London ...drew 3,000 participants." Wow. Just when I think I've heard it all...
Obama is featured on the front page, as well as in "Week in Review," with both sections featuring photos of him and him alone on the front cover. Hmmmmm.
So anyhow, you'll likely begin to notice that I'm becoming *much* more cultured and knowledgeable as I read the Sunday Times.
Actually, I really just like the crossword puzzle...
"Book Review" is a great section, even if just to see the lists of Best Sellers and read short synopses of recent releases. I was surprised to see Friday Night Knitting Club as the number four paperback in "Trade Fiction." (don't know what "trade fiction" designates...) Loving Frank is number 9. In my humble opinion there is no comparison in the writing of these two books...Frank being one of the most beautifully written books I've ever read.
One review really irritates me. In fact the book title irritates me: The Ten-Year Nap. The premise appears to be that now that main character Amy has a ten year old, and since she has given up her career to stay home for ten years, she is at loose ends. The review describes the book as asking the question "...what is the proper role for a postindustrial, post second-wave-of-feminism woman at midlife?"
Hmmmm. The main character is 41 -- is there not plenty of time left for career? (she's a lawyer!) The child is ten -- does he not still need a lot of care and direction? And GOOD GRIEF...raising this son is described as a "nap?" That is so offensive that I'm blogging about a book I'll never read! A woman, Penelope Green, wrote the book. Does she have children? A nap? As in life is on hold while I rest up for ten years? A nap?!?!
Ok...whew...I'll move on...
I enjoyed receiving my NYTimes today: at the drive through window at Starbucks. Ha. It doesn't get lazier than that. Did you know the Sunday Times is 5 bucks? You better believe I'll look through ALL the sections...
Some *might* suggest that I have a purse obsession, (which actually would make a great blog post some day), but my bag investment looks like small potatoes when compared with those featured in the "The New York Times Magazine." (the same section that contains the Sunday crossword) The Dior bag in "Style" comes in at $8,990. whew. And I thought I was splurging on Coach...
The "Travel" section highlights Morocco today, a destination as likely for me as the Dior store...
"Sunday Styles" points us to a blog on "Mad Pride," "A movement about mental illness in the style of gay pride." Hmmmm. Is that not an offensive comparison? Hmmmm. "Just as gay-rights activists reclaimed the word queer as a badge of honor rather than a slur, these advocates proudly call themselves mad; they say their conditions do not preclude them from productive lives." Queer is a badge of honor? Who knew? "A Bonkersfest in London ...drew 3,000 participants." Wow. Just when I think I've heard it all...
Obama is featured on the front page, as well as in "Week in Review," with both sections featuring photos of him and him alone on the front cover. Hmmmmm.
So anyhow, you'll likely begin to notice that I'm becoming *much* more cultured and knowledgeable as I read the Sunday Times.
Actually, I really just like the crossword puzzle...
5.10.2008
Loving Frank
Loving Frank by Nancy Horan
It is hard to overstate how compelling this book was for me to read. Loving Frank appealed to me on many levels, fascinated me, and shredded me. As it ends I am mourning.
The architectural accounts are moving. To read of Frank Lloyd Wright’s creativity, his drive, his ambition, and his consuming passions was to taste his genius. My appetite is whetted. I want to drive to Oak Park and to Taliesin to study his buildings, and also read his autobiography. His character and his work fascinate me though prior to the read I knew relatively little about the man.
The love story is nothing short of riveting. This affair was not about physical passion, but about soul mate love. Each had a love that pushed the other to greatness; a love where each became interested in that which fascinated the beloved. In this love each of the participants flourished, yet the story relates raw pain and gut wrenching truth as it reveals the collision of two passionate souls. It is not a romanticized tale: the fall out of their extramarital affair is great.
Mamah’s translations of feminist writings give voice to women’s issues. While I see flaws in the thinking, the flaws of that day’s society are also evident. When Mamah discovered the writings, as well as her own voice, her character grew. The translation work seemingly saved her from very dark days. It tore into my mother’s heart to read that her affair and her writing left two small children to find their own way. Her tender motherhood combined with her seemingly impossible situation brings both compassion and outrage. Part of me rejects her choices, and part of me understands.
The love of nature is a theme which resonates throughout the story. The details and the vivid accounts are breathtakingly beautiful.
The book details a love which breaks promises to both God and man. Yet it moves not to condemnation, but rather to compassion. It relates the story of the human condition. The affair takes Mamah quite by surprise – sweeps over her, and it’s as if her life can never be the same after meeting him. Life is changed. Her choices leave much about which to debate.
This is not a book for the faint hearted. It is well written, passionate, compelling and tragic. That this is the author’s first novel is astonishing. I read it with pencil in hand, underlining phrases and lines that gave me pause. I will go back to savor these words.
Finishing this book is like the end of a relationship. I miss Mamah. I miss their great love and synchronous genius. I miss reading of how the children are faring. I miss the fields, the fireplace, the house built into the rock. The story is gripping and haunting, and not soon to be forgotten. I am changed.
It is hard to overstate how compelling this book was for me to read. Loving Frank appealed to me on many levels, fascinated me, and shredded me. As it ends I am mourning.
The architectural accounts are moving. To read of Frank Lloyd Wright’s creativity, his drive, his ambition, and his consuming passions was to taste his genius. My appetite is whetted. I want to drive to Oak Park and to Taliesin to study his buildings, and also read his autobiography. His character and his work fascinate me though prior to the read I knew relatively little about the man.
The love story is nothing short of riveting. This affair was not about physical passion, but about soul mate love. Each had a love that pushed the other to greatness; a love where each became interested in that which fascinated the beloved. In this love each of the participants flourished, yet the story relates raw pain and gut wrenching truth as it reveals the collision of two passionate souls. It is not a romanticized tale: the fall out of their extramarital affair is great.
Mamah’s translations of feminist writings give voice to women’s issues. While I see flaws in the thinking, the flaws of that day’s society are also evident. When Mamah discovered the writings, as well as her own voice, her character grew. The translation work seemingly saved her from very dark days. It tore into my mother’s heart to read that her affair and her writing left two small children to find their own way. Her tender motherhood combined with her seemingly impossible situation brings both compassion and outrage. Part of me rejects her choices, and part of me understands.
The love of nature is a theme which resonates throughout the story. The details and the vivid accounts are breathtakingly beautiful.
The book details a love which breaks promises to both God and man. Yet it moves not to condemnation, but rather to compassion. It relates the story of the human condition. The affair takes Mamah quite by surprise – sweeps over her, and it’s as if her life can never be the same after meeting him. Life is changed. Her choices leave much about which to debate.
This is not a book for the faint hearted. It is well written, passionate, compelling and tragic. That this is the author’s first novel is astonishing. I read it with pencil in hand, underlining phrases and lines that gave me pause. I will go back to savor these words.
Finishing this book is like the end of a relationship. I miss Mamah. I miss their great love and synchronous genius. I miss reading of how the children are faring. I miss the fields, the fireplace, the house built into the rock. The story is gripping and haunting, and not soon to be forgotten. I am changed.
5.08.2008
still kickin'
Such a long time between postings. April was simply a whirlwind.
Work took me in many directions, most notably my first visit to Ohio: Cleveland and Cincinnati. Other April Wisconsin destinations included Lacrosse, Madison, Tomah, Hudson, and last night Pewaukee overnight. Today I am putting my suitcase back under the bed where it belongs!
In the beginning of this blog I promised to look for "Pockets of Joy," and recently there have been many overflowing pockets. Although there are some major challenges in my life, God is liberally sprinkling blessing. I'm enjoying searching out those blessed moments.
In Cincinnati I was absolutely spent as I checked into the Hilton for a three day conference. I wearily asked the desk clerk if any upgrades were available. Due to my husband's frequent travel, we are Gold Honors members, and so I was upgraded. On the sixteenth floor I found myself in a double sized suite down the hall from the Belvidere Club...an exclusive club for Gold Honors members and higher. The room was dreamy, with a comfy club chair and ottoman, spacious desk area, two queen beds in fluffy cloud linens and an extra deep soaking tub. The Belvidere club was well stocked with fruit, coffee, soda, water bottles, hors d'eouvres and our own continental breakfasts. This club kitchenette was surrounded on two sides with a balcony and outdoor seating, and the club also had a business room complete with computers and printers plus a large lounge area with flat screen TVs, couches and chairs. I didn't know these clubs existed in hotel chains...whew was I spoiled. Since my room was just down the hall, I found myself going at all times day and night to refill my coffee and grab some fruit. What a treat.
I have blogged before about the delight this mom of four finds in a hotel room alone. To have a deluxe huge room was amazing. As I studied at my desk, I journaled many verses of thanksgiving, feeling pampered and spoiled by the King himself...it was a very personal feeling. I needed some balm, and the alone time and the spoiling was perfect. It was hard to check out of that room, even after three nights.
Last night I was only an hour from home, but a late night networking reception followed by early morning meetings afforded me a room. The only room left at my reservation time was the "Governor's Suite." WHEW. This hotel room had a HALLWAY. The bathroom was the size of a normal hotel room, anchored by a two person pedestal whirlpool bathtub in the center. A walk in shower filled a corner, and an enclosed commode took another. The other side was a wall of mirrors with a long marble double vanity. I could live in that bathroom. The living room and dining room (yes you read that right) were separated from the giant bedroom containing reading nook and king sized bed.
Once I checked in I began to doubt the necessity of that late night networking session... ha. Back in the room at midnight I filled that monster tub and soaked until I could no longer stay above water. (I did not, by the way, use the remote mounted next to the tub to turn on the flat screen TV on the wall in front of the tub. GOOD GRIEF! )
After I showered to wash my hair this morning, I took another hot swirling bath...I just couldn't help myself.
And so, yes, I've been quite spoiled in the month of April. But in spite of it all there is no place like home. Home is where I intend to spend the month of May, staying put to tidy up, garden, putter, study and blog. May will contain pockets of joy as well...right here at home.
Work took me in many directions, most notably my first visit to Ohio: Cleveland and Cincinnati. Other April Wisconsin destinations included Lacrosse, Madison, Tomah, Hudson, and last night Pewaukee overnight. Today I am putting my suitcase back under the bed where it belongs!
In the beginning of this blog I promised to look for "Pockets of Joy," and recently there have been many overflowing pockets. Although there are some major challenges in my life, God is liberally sprinkling blessing. I'm enjoying searching out those blessed moments.
In Cincinnati I was absolutely spent as I checked into the Hilton for a three day conference. I wearily asked the desk clerk if any upgrades were available. Due to my husband's frequent travel, we are Gold Honors members, and so I was upgraded. On the sixteenth floor I found myself in a double sized suite down the hall from the Belvidere Club...an exclusive club for Gold Honors members and higher. The room was dreamy, with a comfy club chair and ottoman, spacious desk area, two queen beds in fluffy cloud linens and an extra deep soaking tub. The Belvidere club was well stocked with fruit, coffee, soda, water bottles, hors d'eouvres and our own continental breakfasts. This club kitchenette was surrounded on two sides with a balcony and outdoor seating, and the club also had a business room complete with computers and printers plus a large lounge area with flat screen TVs, couches and chairs. I didn't know these clubs existed in hotel chains...whew was I spoiled. Since my room was just down the hall, I found myself going at all times day and night to refill my coffee and grab some fruit. What a treat.
I have blogged before about the delight this mom of four finds in a hotel room alone. To have a deluxe huge room was amazing. As I studied at my desk, I journaled many verses of thanksgiving, feeling pampered and spoiled by the King himself...it was a very personal feeling. I needed some balm, and the alone time and the spoiling was perfect. It was hard to check out of that room, even after three nights.
Last night I was only an hour from home, but a late night networking reception followed by early morning meetings afforded me a room. The only room left at my reservation time was the "Governor's Suite." WHEW. This hotel room had a HALLWAY. The bathroom was the size of a normal hotel room, anchored by a two person pedestal whirlpool bathtub in the center. A walk in shower filled a corner, and an enclosed commode took another. The other side was a wall of mirrors with a long marble double vanity. I could live in that bathroom. The living room and dining room (yes you read that right) were separated from the giant bedroom containing reading nook and king sized bed.
Once I checked in I began to doubt the necessity of that late night networking session... ha. Back in the room at midnight I filled that monster tub and soaked until I could no longer stay above water. (I did not, by the way, use the remote mounted next to the tub to turn on the flat screen TV on the wall in front of the tub. GOOD GRIEF! )
After I showered to wash my hair this morning, I took another hot swirling bath...I just couldn't help myself.
And so, yes, I've been quite spoiled in the month of April. But in spite of it all there is no place like home. Home is where I intend to spend the month of May, staying put to tidy up, garden, putter, study and blog. May will contain pockets of joy as well...right here at home.
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