Sunday Afternoon

Here we are at Barnes & Noble. I'm supposed to be studying, but oh, how very distracted I can become at a bookstore. Such a lovely way to spend a Sunday afternoon. I've been so busy detailing the paint and the rooms that I'm exhausted and needed to leave home for a break.

Next to me to my right is a sweet couple who obviously enjoy one another's company. An elegant woman in her late 50's and her equally distinguished husband. They have an exotic look about them. They both stood to get their tea, and collided a bit. I happened to be looking up at that moment and viewed the smile and touch and sweet moment of happy connection.

To my left is another couple - late 50's, early 60's...playing backgammon without a word. Not seeing the spark there, but who knows. They are, after all, together at a bookstore sipping coffees and playing a game.

Across from me is Anna. Diligent Anna working on her math, and listening to her ipod. I am here at Anna's invitation...an amazing fact. Our 17 year old daughter wants to sit with me at a bookstore. I consider good relationships with our children among the sweetest treasures of my life.

Harney & Sons "Holiday Tea" is in my cup today, and I must say it is quite delightful. Earlier we heard holiday music on the radio. I'm not ready for that. Although...it may be time to break out "The Messiah," my favorite music of the year. I will put the discs into Pearl (my car) and listen to them non stop until mid January. Bliss. Perhaps tomorrow.

George Winston's "December" is another perennial favorite, although it is a melancholy sound. There's something about it that marks the passage of time for me: another December looms, and so many issues of past Decembers linger, along with the memories...both pleasant and bittersweet. It's time. Perhaps tonight's bubble bath will be accompanied by "December."

Earlier there was a grandma at the next table, with two grandsons maybe 6 and 7 years of age. They were making their Christmas wish list. It was simply adorable to overhear their little voices, especially the littler fellow who really wants a kitten. Grandma, maybe 60ish, was savoring the moments, asking questions and listening intently to their detailed explanations and reasoning. Sigh. There are some good years ahead.

Barnes & Noble on a Sunday afternoon - tis a lovely respite from the endless chores that await at home. Sabbath rest.
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Color

This blog has been ignored due to complete upside down chaos in our home. We're painting. The laundry room was white - now is "blonde." The kitchen had [horrid] old tan wallpaper with faded blue hearts; it is now pumpkin/gold. When we peeled off the wall paper the drywall came off in spots too, so we had to have a "skim coat" done, which was then sanded...oh the dust. Whew. The living room and dining room were a grey taupe (ceiling and all) and now are mostly chocolate brown with one accent wall of "fireweed" red. (with bright white ceilings!) The family room also had gray taupe ceiling and walls, but now has a white ceiling, "trusty tan" walls and the fireplace wall is *bright* "loyal blue." The family room still needs another coat of blue.

Needless to say, my world is upside down. We hired a couple guys to do it all at once - a blessing and a curse. The kitchen and living room are back in place, other than touching up where I'm moving artwork and decor. The contents of the family room are still in the foyer. I finally got the wash caught up tonight.

Both Frank and I were painting too. It was a big big job. And now I'm studying for a quiz tomorrow.

So...I'll be back soon. And I'll post photos of my colorful world. I LOVE it thus far.

Budding Artist

As Jake flew out the door this morning, he yelled down the hall, "My painting is on the kitchen table." I thanked him, and went on with getting ready for work.

Then, as I was walking out the door, I picked it up and almost fell over. I LOVE this painting. I mean, I LOVE it. I love the colors, the perspective, the black outlines. He copied a painting, but he doesn't know the artist...


Jake is 13. Incredible. Our children never cease to amaze me.

God does my art

Friday morning. Ahhhh. My coffee and I have just arrived in the living room, in fact there are no lights on yet. It's a cool rainy rather bleak morning. Except. Except it's October 30, and the view is spectacular.

The entire south wall of our livingroom is windows. Thus the title: God does my art. Every morning I make my cup of Butter Toffee coffee in the Keurig (with a splash of cream and one Splenda) and mosey over to the dark living room. If it's still dark out I'll put on the twinkle lights which are draped over the small picket fence near the living room window. But most mornings I just stand, literally just stand there in my jammies, robe and slippers and sip my coffee while I stare at the landscape that's our back yard.

Today the red bush is the highlight. I love this strange bush whose branches all come from the base - not from any sort of a trunk or from another branch. The long branches create a continual movement in the wind. I just love it. I do cut it down continually (though carefully so it never looks newly chopped) but honestly treasure the movement of those continually swaying branches. No, it's not a burning bush, but the color is as spectacular. We have burning bushes galore. In fact I set out to count them twice, and both times became distracted. There are about a dozen, all groomed quite small.

Recently my first morning sight was a red fox. I saw him on two consecutive mornings, and gave him the charge to eat a few squirrels before he moved on. No recent sightings of coyotes or deer. Did I blog about the blue jay? I had my first ever blue jay visit (alas no camera near by) and he was spectacular, twice the size of the cardinals also feeding at that time. Yes, I know that I do not want the blue jay - I've been told that if he chooses my feeders I'll lose all other birds.

As we near November and our minds turn to Thanksgiving, I will blog about my blessings. Today I thank God once again for this living room window which overlooks acres of park land. There are no words to describe how it lifts me - buoys up my soul. No matter the state of my checkbook, the view is rich. No matter the state of my relationships, the birds want to chatter. No matter the dullness of my feelings, the colors dance. No matter the messiness of our household, the outdoors is in perfect harmony and planned display. This must be what prozak feels like - I can literally breathe in the calm and the peace.

Thank you Father. Thank you for the way you have planted me in a place of beauty, a place where I've discovered anew the beauty and order of the rhythm of nature. Thank you for Your creations, and for the simplicity of our responses to them. Amen.

Twinkling

The best part of fall and winter is the lovely effect of lighting inside our home. Unexpected dim lights from all corners of a dark room makes me smile. I'm big into dimmer lights, and into the general calming effect of candlelight and low wattage uplighting and glows.

Last night Sweet Sue was at our house, and I asked her to help motivate me in my office - the half of our bedroom which is dedicated to study and creativity. A couple piles of unfiled mail is really all that stood between me and order, since a couple weeks ago I finally hauled all the funeral paperwork, photos, cards, etc. to the basement. There comes a time when I simply have to haul a pile to a new location - it's something about how I'm wired - just seeing the pile overwhelms me and I avoid it all together.

Sue observed that what I really needed was more lighting.

An hour later the perimeter of this little cubby was sparkling with twinkle lights. Icicle lights on white wire hung from tiny nails spaced a foot apart - about 3 inches from the ceiling. It is positively magical.

My desk was quickly cleared off, and when I went to bed all that remained on it was my laptop and my desklamp. This morning I've been busy with Bible study and the preparation to lead worship on Sunday, all beneath the glow of a million white icicle lights.

I'm working on a photo to post. It's a tough angle to get - this is an indented cubby area of our bedroom - and the lighting is hard to capture.

In the mean time, I am twinkling. Thank you Sue!

Delicious

Sitting in the family room, staring out a window to a garden of fall splendor, sipping Butter Toffee coffee, journaling, day dreaming, and reading in Luke. It's Friday morning, and I'm off until Monday. There is no quiz next week, no mid term exam, there are no out of town guests this week end, in fact... there's little on my calendar. What bliss.

Beth Moore's "90 Day" series are my favorite devotional studies *ever.* The book lover in me appreciates the sturdy hard cover presentation and especially the thick ivory pages with the rough uneven edges. The book itself is magnificent. The disciple in me loves how Beth probes into the text. And the woman in me identifies with the relational details upon which she focuses.


Currently I'm savoring this one on Jesus. In the past I did 90 Days with John, and David is waiting on my bookshelf. Savoring. Honestly, when I'm snuggled under the warm covers in the morning, what seduces me from bed is the thought of curling up with my coffee, my Bible and Beth. No exaggeration. It's my favorite part of the day.

I'm not racing through. The pages are filled with my notes. She set up the books as journals, with questions and space for answers, but I go well beyond that because her perspective draws me in. From the familiar stories she extracts details that add to the richness, add to my appreciation of Jesus' humanity and His divinity. It's a matter of falling in love.

This morning I continued to linger in Luke 10:38-42 - the story of Mary and Martha. I've never really been ashamed of being the Martha of the story, mainly because there is so much Mary in me as well. Martha makes the preparation, and she is the one who actually invites Jesus over in verse 38. We can all ooh and aah over Mary's devotion, but if Martha hadn't been practical enough to invite the guest, there would have been no feet in their house at which Mary could sit.

One thing Beth brings out is that the word "preparation" begins with "pre." Preparation is a good and necessary part of every gathering. Even my time with the Lord each morning involves preparation - likely more than necessary because I'm such a nut with my pens and books - but then when I sit down and open the Word I need to discipline myself to be in the moment and no longer gathering supplies or getting other household processes started. The prep allows the setting in which the relationship can grow, but the Martha in me needs to glue myself to the chair. Enough is enough. The time comes to enjoy the guest.

If Jesus were coming for dinner, you'd better believe I'd be a white tornado of activity all day, cleaning and preparing a warm and welcoming environment. But once He arrived, I hope I'd have the sense to sit as near as I could and just savor His presence. In a way that's what I'm doing as I sit here on this rainy Friday morning. As thoughts cross my mind I bring them to Him, we talk about them a bit, and then I return my attention to His Word.

It's a beautiful thing.

Through It All

Here's the words to the song I'm singing at church tomorrow.

And it's the title of the book I'm going to start.

Through It All.

Little life stories, experiences, and what I've learned...through it all.

I'm inspired.

Again, my favorite version is by Selah.

I love this song.

I've had many tears and sorrows,

I've had questions for tomorrow,
there've been times I didn't know right from wrong.
But in every situation,
God gave blessed consolation,
that my trials only come to make me strong.

Verse 2
I've been a lot of places, and
I've seen so many faces, but
there's been times I felt so all alone.
But in my lonely hours,
in those precious lonely hours,
Jesus let me know that I am His own

And oh it was...

Through it all,
through it all,
I've learned to trust in Jesus,
I've learned to trust in God.
Through it all,
through it all,
I've learned to depend upon His Word.

Verse 3
So I thank God for the mountains,
and I thank Him for the valleys,
I thank Him for the storms He's brought me through.
For if I'd never had a problem,
I wouldn't know that He could solve them,
I wouldn't know what faith in His Word could do.

Through it all,
through it all,
I've learned to trust in Jesus,
I've learned to trust in God.
Through it all,
through it all,
I've learned to depend upon His Word.

Finally

Last night in history class...it all began to make sense.

I've been studying during every spare minute for the last two weeks. Unfortunately there have not been many spare minutes. Yesterday I left work after a noon time meeting, and set up shop at a table in the Barnes & Noble cafe. For 5 straight hours I read, reread and made index cards from which to study for next week's midterm. Our professor gave us a list of 65 topics to master...so I now have 65 large index cards. As I read and hit a topic, I make notes.

That undivided, concentrated time made such a difference. I started putting events and people in order in my mind, and seeing where different readings covered the same time frame. I had a map and tried to find the origination of the various conquerors.

I've already said...I came into this clueless. I must have slept through geography and history classes in high school and undergrad. I don't know where the modern day countries are, let alone the ones at the time of Constantine. Our professor is so knowledgeable that he doesn't teach to my level - leaving gaps that totally confuse me.

We had a quiz last night, which was the impetus for my feverish review. What a gift that was - a quiz on 2/3 of the material we've learned. I need to keep studying until next Wednesday but the majority of the material is at least on my cards.

On quiz one I learned that Dr. G. likes to quiz you on the reading that he has not yet discussed. So I especially concentrated on new material at B & N. Wow, did THAT make a difference. Class finally made sense. The material was familiar. I knew the names. Yes, yes, I know that I should always have my reading done before class...but really, life gets in the way, and once you're behind it's hard to catch up, and then the reading is dry. Anyhow, I *loved* class last night. I felt so on top of things referencing the index cards I already had made for the material upon which he was lecturing. PLUS, the material is about to turn...the second half of the semester is the Reformation and beyond. I just can't wait to hear about so many names that I know but really know so little about. Last night we learned about Wycliffe. John Wycliffe was so passionate about the Word of God being translated into the language of the people. At that time the only option was hand copying, so copies of Scripture cost months of wages. The church was the only keeper of the Word, and was so corrupt. The political process and the church hierarchy were intertwined, and the common man was plundered. Wycliffe studied at Oxford, and God opened his eyes to the inconsistencies. Luther continued on with so many of the same ideas, but Luther was able to encourage the laity's reading of the Word because the Printing Press with its movable type had been invented in 1450. Wycliffe began the dissension, and once Gutenberg's press was able to churn out Bibles, the wildfire of the Reformation spread.

I'm such a history nerd now that I asked my prof if I could borrow a book for the week. [a week ago I would have laughed in your face at the suggestion of extra reading] It's entitled The 100 Most Important Events in Church History. In chronological order it goes through many of the events on my list of 65. He kept reading from it in class, so I reasoned that a concise summary, with writing from a different perspective, might help jell the material even further. In fact I read a few topics in bed at 10:30 last night.

Ha. Miracles never cease.

Disappointment

Disappointment is my word tonight. I'm sorry to write it, and I sort of want to hide it, yet I figure if I'm writing this blog to have an honest remembrance of the year, once in a while there needs to be an honest post on a disappointing day.

Today the tears have been ever present - just on the edge. Plenty have fallen and been added to my bottle.

Psalm 56:8 (AMP)
You number and record my wanderings; put my tears into Your bottle—are they not in Your book?

I'm disappointed that some things hurt so much. The same things. Over and over. That progress does not seem to be made. One step forward, two steps back.

I'm disappointed that I can't cope better.

And really, I'm disappointed that I hope, and that my hope is squashed.

Our pastor talked about Bible Study Partnerships today - reading one chapter of the Bible each day and then getting together with someone to share which verses "popped out" while you read. And so, here I sit at Starbucks, about to dive into Isaiah chapter one. I'm hoping that there will be another blog soon - one with a much better title.

I'm just disappointed.

Age Old Dilemma

In reading about Constantine, the Roman Emperor in the fourth century who ended the persecution of Christians and embraced Christianity, the chapter ends with this quote:

The disagreement [of the ancient church] rested on exactly what it meant to be obedient in a new age while remaining faithful to an old message.

Interesting, isn't it? There is nothing new under the sun...

Power

This morning I am at my desk in our bedroom for my quiet time for two reasons: the kids are up and about which distracts me if I'm in my spot on the couch (my timing is off this morning...their routine is as always) and also my sciatic nerve is killing me. One too many boxes moved in the basement...I've been paying dearly for lifting one box in particular, and as a result must avoid the cushy furniture!

And so, since my laptop is also on the desk...who can resist? A wee note on today's study.

In Mark 9:14-18, directly following the transfiguration, Jesus comes back with Peter, James and John to find the other disciples in an argument with the scribes amidst a crowd of people.

One pattern I'm noticing as I step back and study the *whole* in my classes is that it was the established religious group that were so against the movement of God through Jesus. God had something new planned, which was, actually, the fulfillment of everything old. The establishment just kept clinging to the old, to tradition, to the known. The "religious" people were the ones who continually stirred up the trouble. Interesting.

The disciples had told a man that they could not heal his demon possessed son. In Luke 9:1, before the transfiguration recorded in Luke 9:28, Jesus had indeed given the disciples the power to heal. Jesus doesn't seem too pleased when in Mark 9: 19 He states, "O unbelieving generation, how long shall I be with you? How long shall I put up with you?" Was He unhappy with the clamoring crowd? Or with the bewildered disciples?

I find it interesting that the disciples had less faith than the boy's father. Likely they experienced fear, and perhaps intimidation. With Jesus and the favored three gone, the remaining 9 may have felt unqualified. Of course they were young in their faith...still learning, still grappling with just who this Jesus was, and what their role might be.

God's power was available to the 9 disciples left on their own, just as it is available to us, to me. With Christ within, I have the "surpassing greatness of His power toward us who believe," (Eph 2:19) available to me. The same power, Paul points out in Ephesians 2:20, that raised Christ from the dead.

Beth Moore points out in her devotional book Jesus, 90 Days with the One and Only that "...the worst conditions can often provide the best atmosphere to act in faith." And yet, like the nine, I can tend to wimp out and think "I can't." God, that is simply too big. This situation is too overwhelming. Lord, this feels impossible.

Jesus had given them the power to heal. 2 Peter 1:3 tells us

"For His divine power has bestowed upon us all things that [are requisite and suited] to life and godliness, through the [full, personal] knowledge of Him Who called us by and to His own glory and excellence (virtue)."

With Christ within, truly no situation in my life is impossible. Whenever I think of relational issues in particular, I need to think of God's resurrection power, and that He has ALREADY given me EVERYTHING pertaining to life and godliness. God not only can work in the situation, but He can work in me to make the situation bearable. Whether He changes me or the situation is likely not the point...

I won't judge those nine disciples and their lack of faith. Every day I need the same lesson as they did - that "With God, nothing is impossible." (Luke 1:37)

Catching up with myself

It was a great week end. A full week end.

It started EARLY as I left the house Friday at 4:25 am to meet coworkers to drive north to Wausau for an interview. On the way back we stopped at a restaurant, where I wandered into the gift shop. A Gooseberry Patch cookbook caught my eye. Entitled "5 Ingredients or Less," its simple recipes are arranged by season, and each page has a seasonal decorating tip as well. After previewing a few "autumn" pages, I bought it for some pleasure reading on the 3 hour return trip. I was too exhausted to study the class books in my bag...

So I snuggled into the back seat of a monstrous BMW (the seats recline in the BACK seat!), got out a highlighter, a pen and some post-it notes, and started in. An hour later it occurred to me that I was feeling like "me." A palpable feeling of awakening washed over me.

Recipes, seasonal decor, sitting, perusing...no immediate pressures or deadlines. It was, in a word, blissful. I realized that some parts of me have just been shelved this year as I've gone from activity to crisis to activity to crisis. I simply have not caught up with myself. I've not recovered.

I came home and decided to clean the basement for 30 minutes. Make one little dent. In 2008 the basement had been DONE - completely organized for the first time ever in my adult life. Our new house has great built in storage, and all my seasonal boxes, as well as quilting supplies, had been arranged and at the ready. It was an incredible feat of purging and organizing. And then we had the 100 year record rain storm and a basement flood, so everything on the floor had been hurriedly moved to higher ground. In February of 2009 we had the drain tiles repaired, so everything was moved out and then covered in order to minimize the damage of cement dust. In March my uncle was so ill and then died, which involved two week ends in Iowa. My dad began to spiral in March. I was rarely home. In April I brought up box upon box of my mother's photo albums to have out for my dad's funeral. In May I took them all back down, but by then the two college kids, who both have lower level rooms, had moved in with all their stuff.

Somewhere along the way I gave up, and put the basement on "ignore."

And so, this past Friday, inspired by a bit of reading of simple seasonal celebration, I ventured down and began to move the photo album boxes back into place. I folded up my father's clothes and drove them to Goodwill. Something in me began to wake up... it was time to move on, and to start celebrating again. This isn't likely making sense, but this was big... I was coming out of a fog. Little by little. I found some boxes of fall decor, and carried them upstairs. Frank joined in and helped clean - vacuuming as I cleaned my way through areas. We set up a guitar area downstairs for Jake - the pieces had been there since before the repair, but we had just never put it together.

There's still a lot to do. But the "funeral" boxes and remnants of my dad's room are not there in a pile. The spring decor is put away, and those boxes are on the shelves. The upstairs is cleaned, dusted and looks ready for autumn. It's like I've arrived back home - the things that are SO important to me - I'm doing them again. Organizational chaos weighs me down - even behind closed doors in the basement. Celebrating the change of seasons is ME - I smile as I look around the dining room here where I'm typing. Cooking meals - new ones with 5 ingredients or less - it's ME.

I'd lost myself for a while. It's been a hell of a year. Really. I'm glad to be on the road back.

Gotta scoot. I'm going to set the timer for 30 minutes and organize some Christmas boxes which are still uprooted from the February repairs. 30 minutes at a time...it'll be done eventually...

His Eye is on the Sparrow

why should I feel discouraged

and why should the shadows come

why should my heart feel lonely

and long for heaven and home

when Jesus is my portion

a constant friend is He

His eye is on the sparrow

and I know He watches over me

His eye is on the sparrow

and I know He watches over me

I sing because I'm happy

I sing because I'm free

His eye is on the sparrow

and I know He watches me

He watches me

His eye is on the sparrow

and I know He watches

I know He watches,

I know He watches me.

This song has been in my mind almost constantly in the last two weeks. What comfort it brings to me. My favorite part? "A constant friend is He."

Just now I wanted to find the writer of the song, so I looked up Wikipedia. There was an amazing amount of information...I've included some of it below.

My favorite version is by Selah. If you have itunes, you may want to download it. It is so so soothing.

I've just this morning figured it out on guitar. A dear "sista" is in the hospital with a scary diagnosis. I'm planning to sing it to her tonight, as she is likely in need of the reminder.

From Wikipedia:

"His Eye Is on the Sparrow" is a Gospel hymn. Although today it is a staple of African-American worship services, the song was originally written in 1905 by two white songwriters, lyricist Civilla D. Martin and composer Charles H. Gabriel. The song is most associated with actress-singer Ethel Waters who used the title for her autobiography.

The song has been performed extensively in Gospel music with notable versions by The Soul Stirrers, Shirley Caesar, Crystal Lewis, Marvin Gaye (from In Loving Memory), Kirk Franklin & the Family, Lauryn Hill & Tanya Blount (from Sister Act 2), Mahalia Jackson, Sister Rosetta Tharpe, Dottie West, and Barbara Mandrell. Jessica Simpson recorded the song for her 2001 album Irresistible. Recent jazz artists who recorded the song include the George Adams-Don Pullen Quartet (1984), the Scott Amendola Band (2002), and by Jessi Colter, on her new album, "Out of the Ashes" (2006).

[edit]Inspiration

The theme of the song is inspired by the words of Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew in the Bible, as referenced by Mrs. Doolittle in Elmira, NY .

Chapter 6:26
²⁶ Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?

Chapter 10:29-31.
²⁹ Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father.
³⁰ But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.
³¹ Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows.

Civilla Martin, who wrote the lyrics, said this about her inspiration to write the song based in the scriptures outlined above,

Early in the spring of 1905, my hus band and I were so journ ing in El mi ra, New York. We con tract ed a deep friend ship for a cou ple by the name of Mr. and Mrs. Doo lit tle—true saints of God. Mrs. Doo lit tle had been bed rid den for nigh twen ty years. Her hus band was an in cur a ble crip ple who had to pro pel him self to and from his bus i ness in a wheel chair. De spite their af flict ions, they lived hap py Christ ian lives, bring ing in spir a tion and com fort to all who knew them. One day while we were visiting with the Doo lit tles, my hus band com ment ed on their bright hope ful ness and asked them for the secret of it. Mrs. Doo lit tle’s re ply was sim ple: "His eye is on the spar row, and I know He watch es me." The beau ty of this simple ex press ion of bound less faith gripped the hearts and fired the imag in a tion of Dr. Mar tin and me. The hymn "His Eye Is on the Spar row" was the out come of that ex per i ence.

-- Civilla Martin

Whew

Just in case you are having a hard time sleeping because you're wondering if I'm going to make it through my History of Christianity class, I thought I'd relieve your mind. I *might* make it.

We have no class next week, but I'm not telling anybody. That way I can go somewhere and study for the three hours. In two weeks we have a quiz. And in three weeks the mid term.

Yesterday a client moved our presentation to a hospital board FROM October 21, the mid term night. I wanted to kiss him, but felt that was inappropriate. Taking the exam with my class, rather than making special arrangements, is a major relief. Choreographing a major presentation at work AND studying for a mid term... over the top. The presentation is now in November. Thank God.

Then tonight the professor gave us the study guide, (THREE weeks before the exam!!) and said the words that make my heart sing: if the topic is not on the study guide, it's not on the exam. AND...it's 30 multiple choice and 20 true/false. WOO HOO. Relief is flooding my entire list-loving being.

Why do I want A's so bad? Well... that's the perfectionist. And bragging rights to my two college kids... Why will I study like a crazy person to connect the dots between the three page list of people and events that we need to know? Because I really want to understand the linkages, as well as do well on the test. But the way my brain works is that now that the pressure is off I will absorb much better. I'm funny that way...

I think I could pass an objective test even now. I do pay attention and write zillions of notes.

I am much relieved. You likely don't care at all, except that the next time you see me I won't look *quite* so stressed.

Further good news is that we ARE having class on Thanksgiving Eve. Why is that good? Because the alternative was to extend ANOTHER WEEK into December. Having a final exam on December 16 is every mother's (and her family's) nightmare.

Again...you don't care. 'Cept you love me...that's why you're here.

Good Night and Sweet Dreams. -graciered

Door County

Doing much better tonight. The house is more in order, the soup was good, the kids are content, Boomer is curled up at my feet. My little world is getting back into place.

Until tomorrow... when I will head to Whitehall, Wisconsin and then to Eau Claire. Thankfully I'm going with two coworkers, so I can curl up in the back seat and study. Hours of study. yeah!

Here is the link to photos of Door County. Paste this in your browser.

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2037420&id=1116654663&l=917cba0af2

Good night. I'm going to watch the season premier of "House." I can't remember the last time I watched TV...need some vegging.

Out and About

A friend just sent me this photo which she snapped on the retreat. I was sneaking off to a gazebo in the woods to study when she spotted me and called my name...

I've been spending a lot of time in the woods lately. I love that. In fact, I've been blessed with a lot of travel - for fun and for work. In fact, I'm exhausted.

When we arrived home from Door County last night I had a melt down. It was aimed at no one in particular, but I just melted down. Anna had a busy week end herself, with Homecoming game Friday, Homecoming dance Saturday, and a Marching Band competition on Sunday. [Frank and I REALLY needed to reconnect, so, yes, we chose to miss all that when the neighbors invited us to a getaway at their DC home...] She and Jake had picked up Chinese food for Sunday dinner, and the remains were all over the table and counter. Jake had made macaroni at some point...those dishes were there too. The garbage was overflowing, the week end chores were not done, it was pouring rain as we unloaded the groceries we had stopped to buy, blah blah blah. Thus the melt down - reality was simply too much.

So, I went to bed. For those of you who have not learned this yet, going to sleep really DOES change the main thing: your perspective. 8 hours later I awoke to a new day and the energy to start to get it done, one item at a time.

Started on the couch. God sets my priorities.

Next I made the rotten undeserving children scrambled eggs, hot cinnamon rolls and slices of orchard fresh apples. They scarfed it down so quick that I decided that further cooking seemed necessary. I boiled chicken for soup and browned up a couple pounds of hamburger for spaghetti and chili later in the week. The deboned chicken is now in the crock pot, simmering away to yumminess along with sauteed onions, celery and garlic and a bag of shredded broccoli and carrots. When I get home from a couple hours of catch up time at work [can't take my normal Monday off due to travel tomorrow ] I'll make noodles. I'm going to get bread going in the bread machine too.

Cleaned all the dishes. Scraped the stove interior, and it is on the cleaning cycle now, right next to the humming dishwasher. Even went overboard and organized the Tupperware closet and rearranged in there. I had just had ENOUGH of living with "just enough" to keep the house going. Once in a while I simply implode, and what I really need then is a good fix of nesting. Beware of the white tornado.

Home truly is where my heart is. I'm starting to dream of age 50 plus... I hope to have my degree done, and the last one off to college... hoping to step out of the hamster wheel and into more ministry. More writing. More speaking. I'm just not a corporate America kinda gal, even with a PLUM flexible part time job. If only someone would pay me to stay home. Oh...and please throw in a company car.

I love that picture. I look pretty happy sneaking off with my bag of books to get caught up emotionally and spiritually. Thankfully I have been consistent with my hour each morning...I can't imagine life without that. More melt downs would definitely be occurring!

This has been an excellent Monday morning. Just in from a brisk walk with Boomer. A nap is sounding good... sigh. Hi ho, Hi ho, it's off to work I go, thanking God for the flexibility to take a half day in light of the occasional melt down.

Just part of being human I guess.

Quote of the Day

My *google* homepage is personalized, and one section is "Quote of the Day."

Today's quote:

Coming home from very lonely places, all of us go a little mad: whether from great personal success, or just an all-night drive, we are the sole survivors of a world no one else has ever seen.
- John le Carre

There is such truth to that, on a human level. But never forget for El Roi: the God who sees. He sees it all, He hears it all, He goes through every moment of every day right alongside each of us.

Comforting, isn't it?

Church History Jeopardy

Tonight in class we played Jeopardy. For the whole 3 hours. Honest.

We had two teams. We alternated. It was timed. If team A could not get the question, then team B had a shot, and then it reverted to team A open book.

If this subject matter reflects the mid term exam, I am sunk. Although I was a star on the team in the "revert" phase - I'm fast with an index and all my notes.

On one hand, I've learned a ton. On the other hand, since I started with zero knowledge of history and geography, I'm feeling a bit... remedial. I'm not used to feeling quite this... clueless.

I'm now reading my textbook each night. No cramming allowed. There is no way to speed read hundreds of pages of names, dates and facts. It's time to add index cards, too.

Whew. I'm overwhelmed.

Anticipation

1 Corinthians 2:9 (AMP)
But, on the contrary, as the Scripture says,

What eye has not seen

and ear has not heard

and has not entered into the heart of man,

[all that] God has prepared (made and keeps ready) for those who love Him

[who hold Him in affectionate reverence, promptly obeying Him and gratefully recognizing the benefits He has bestowed].

Contemplative

I'm becoming more contemplative.

Maybe it's my age. Maybe it's because the people around me are all so busy talking that there's no point in adding to the noise. I'm pretty sure it's because having someone understand the deep stuff takes too much time. And who has that? Perhaps it's because I know that the Holy Spirit within is always present, always listening, always watching...and when I journal or pray, or just sit and think, I know that I am understood. Nudged to change, but understood. It is comforting to remember that I never have to explain myself to God. He knows already.

It's an odd place to be. An odd place to which to be gravitating. I've begun to give up on being fully understood. Is is lonely? Maybe, but actually...not really. There's sort of a wisdom in it. A freedom. Explaining yourself is exhausting. And disappointing. Frustrating. It's calmer to just...not even try. And to remember...God knows. That's all I need.

My favorite thought from Ephesians is in chapter one, verse 2. I love it in the Amplified Bible. In fact, the retreat was based in total on this concept in verse two:

May grace (God’s unmerited favor) and spiritual peace [which means peace with God and harmony, unity, and undisturbedness] be yours from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ. Ephesians 1:2 (AMP)

There it is. UNDISTURBEDNESS. That word is just so magnetic. I am drawn to undisturbedness. Explaining myself, defending myself, spending time and energy to be understood...well...it can be disturbing. Which goes against this new goal of mine: living in undisturbedness.

Last night I curled up on the couch, listened to the rain and read The Story of Christianity by Justo L. Gonzalez. Great book. It is assigned reading yet so interesting. I've fallen behind, so I'm comparing my class notes as I read, and it's all coming together - the story line of history - His story.

Anyhow, it made me smile to read of Monasticism.

The very word "monk" derives from the Greek monachos, which means "solitary." One of the driving motivations for the early monks was the search for solitude. Society, with its noise and many activities, was seen as a temptation and a distraction from the monastic goal. p 138.

But then later I read that their wisdom made monks sought after - and they kept having to flee from people pursuing them. There's irony in that. But their wisdom also made some proud...and that temptation overtook them even as they overcame so many others. I've experienced this - the pride of some who think they've *arrived.* The feeling of being judged by them. (which can lead to explaining myself and well...the cycle begins...)

And so, here I sit, contemplating undisturbedness. What changes must occur to live there more? A lot have already occurred. I have much less interest in things and crowds. TV is something that truly holds NO interest to me - it's just too full of yuk that fills my brain and then requires the effort of purging it again. Don't worry, I'm still very interested in EXPERIENCES so I'm not quite a monk yet. Nature is such a huge part of my contentment - there's such peace in the rhythm of nature. God and I meet in the garden. I loved reading of how

some [monks] planted gardens, but most of them earned their living weaving baskets and mats that they then traded for bread and oil. Apart from the ready availability of reeds, this occupation had the advantage that while weaving one could pray, recite a psalm, or memorize a portion of Scripture. p 143 Love that.

Yesterday in my Bible reading I was reading of the woman who poured expensive perfume on Jesus and washed his feet with her hair and tears. In Luke 8:30 (AMP) Jesus tells her, "Your faith has saved you; go (enter) into peace [in freedom from all the distresses that are experienced as the result of sin.]"

That's another piece - a big piece - of the state of Undisturbedness. Freedom from the all the distresses that sin brings. All the nagging doubts, the tangled webs, the explaining, the justifying. Honestly, there is a whole lot of disturbedness served up in enticing packages, isn't there? And it's not all sin. Some is just encumbrance. Choosing the best over the good. Eliminating the extra baggage. The weight of stuff that bogs me down.

It's a rainy, cool Monday morning. The first day of fall. I'm contemplating the peace of undisturbedness even as I look at a week that includes overnight travel and lots of schmoozing at work events. Wow. Life is so full of choices, options, good things in varied packages. How to live a contemplative life in a clamoring world? This morning hour is a start. And after that I just need to buckle up and dive in. He will reveal what I need as we proceed into this day together. He already knows. And He understands me, and just what makes me purr. When I look at it from that perspective, it gives me reason to anticipate His solutions...and to walk confidently, as well as contemplatively, into my day.