I'm laid back cradled in a nylon chair, chatting with Madalynn, underneath the rustling leaves by the pond with the sun peaking through at every opportunity and listening to the "moos" of the kids' 5 new calves. Busyness isn't all bad, just like the early football practice and a pool party yesterday, but sometimes it's good to just "be".
Miranda and McKala dropped by with Ali on their way back to her house. I'm glad Miranda has a friend like Ali who interacts beautifully with our whole family. She left everyone on the driveway and came down to sit with me for a few minutes, telling me of her mother's dealings after the funeral - her mother - a good friend of mine, helper to everyone, who is one of those people who it seems shouldn't have to cope with the kind of cards that have been dealt to her.
Melody and Michael hurried past to Mike's truck to ride with him as he returns the trailer for reloading in SC. I took Mike's hand as he passed my chair to tell him I "want" to like him (after I told him I "didn't" earlier) which is a far cry from last year when I "couldn't" anymore. He's "grouchy" and rightly so, especially with his toothache, financial concerns, and uncertainty of my stance. He'd say I'm "touchy" and he's right. All this is like trying to kiss someone and bumping noses over and over. I ran in with Madalynn as they left and I'm guessing he saw it as a flight back to the house since he was leaving, BUT she had folded herself up in a heavy-framed chair and by the looks of it, she'd broken her finger. It's gonna be all right though and she's "hold up" on the rug in front of the TV with some blocks and a blanket.
Macklynn and Trevor have run back and forth playing the Wii at his home and ours as the countdown continues to the move on Wednesday back to the South Carolina beach that endears them. I'm sure that when he's older, Macklynn will think back on these summer days of fishing, swimming, and playing games ...and smile. I hope caring for his new calf will ease the separation and that taking one of our kittens, that were born at his place, will give Trevor a compadre 'til he makes a new friend. It's time for Macklynn to write and what better reason than to keep in touch with his first friend?
Speaking of the calves, the day we got them this week will go down as one of the hysterical Harper memories. When the call came that they were available, Mike was out of town and the hitch had a stripped bolt, so we grabbed a tarp and headed that way. We sealed the deal and to the astonishment of the dairy farmer, got 2 of his Holstein calves into the back of our 2011 minivan ;), along with a couple of kids. We took the gravel road home uneventfully and went back for the other 3. I have been asked about any "accidents" and have stayed off any truth telling until now. The dirt road is hardly a mile long so I thought surely we could make it back again without much drama, but one of the calves stood up and ...squirted ...straight out and right onto McKala. They had just fed them afterall. I couldn't even see her in the rearview mirror for my tears pouring out in laughter. In a rare exception, I had let the kids ride without seatbelts, so before I could think to roll down the windows, they had their noses pressed against the glass pleading for relief from the smell, which just added to the comedy.
There's plenty more to tell but I, God-willing, can do that as the calves and the kids grow. Lying in bed night before last, I mulled over what's led to this point. Life has been in overdrive so long that I was afraid some memories were lost. You see, we've owed the kids a lot of money for a long time. I have lists of whom and what we owe, but the memories attached are fuzzy sometimes. In old times, I know that each family member gave what they could to the survival of the household and that was commendable, but much of our kids' was saved birthday money and the like. One particular memory stood out for me the other night and tears hit the pillow. After Mike had his emergency aortic bypass in 2008 and before we were able to sell our mountain home and property, we couldn't come up with a severely deliquent payment on the mortgage. We had exhausted all resources, sold a framed print, but still couldn't meet the total. Miranda came forward at 12 years old with all the money she had, $175.00, and in all sincerity offered it, not knowing if she'd get it back. They've all waited patiently for repayment, 100s of dollars. We've learned how to be "without" through all this (things like traveling, nicer cars, and pretty rooms) ...and at the same time, seen God step in and provide us "with", when there was no other explanation than His presence that the world could offer. Michael and McKala have decided to use their payback money wisely to make more money. They're getting 4 more newborns, so the $50 a calf plus $61 a bag of formula for each calf is quite a chunk and I could've offered it to another source, but I ask her forgiveness and hope she sees the timing of the kids repayment as a good thing ...and that hers is coming, if it's the last thing I do.
This week someone divulged to me that they're at the point of losing the home they've raised their children in. The thought wrecked her face and it took me back to where we were in those Blue Ridge Mountains and how I wondered if we could recover after a hit in every financial way. I knew God would make it okay, but those of you, who know us well, know that He not only did that, but also restored the sweet "way of life" that we left behind. We're renting a house and a tractor-trailer (and even a motorcycle and jet-ski from time to time :) ...and you know what? That's more than okay.
Right now, I have a corner of the counter with clutter to clear, a colossal mound of clothes to closet, and chip-encrusted chicken to cook. And that's okay, too.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Practice Makes Perfect
I posted a picture of McKala and her band of "babysat" kids and creatures today and it didn't spawn much reaction. Here's the thing: she's already become the person I wasn't until my 30's. As I've had heart to heart talks with neighbors and friends recently, she's been the one getting a meal ready for that person and their family. I don't mean just any meal - good, rich, soul food. She's 14 and is practicing something that we're losing in this culture: fundamental homestyle care for the less fortunate and the broken. Is it a gift of hospitality she was born with? Maybe, but "all" the children have a heart for it in some form. She, though, has blossomed this summer, spending weeks of time volunteering at camp, and hours in the kitchen.
It's easy for me to see what the kids don't do up to par, but I would be remiss to not express my elation that they care for someone besides themselves. Compassion is welling up in them, not just from the things they've suffered but from the maturity that brings thankful insight. I don't ever want them to be the ones eager to get their picture in the paper for a good deed or to do volunteer work so as to better a college application. I don't want them to think everything worth doing involves money or a foot up. She has her struggles just like us all. When she's exhausted, she's "done" and can be very frank about it with that carrying voice which can be startling. Also, pride, the distortion that takes the good out of anything, has to be constantly pushed aside ...her own agendy set aside as well, because as much as she may seem a "Suzy Homemaker", she's very much a social butterfly and WAS born with a need for being out and about. I will say ...my answer is often "yes" when she has been presented with a reasonable invitation for fun.
Clubs, associations, and groups get some things done, but how many of us step in closer? Today, as she was already dogsitting and babysitting, she prepared enough supper to feed a small army to ease the burden of my friend who lost her father in a tragic accident, not only without complaint, but also with excitement for the details of extra touches. As Christians, we hope our children become "good samaritans", but are they practicing it already ...like everything else they aspire to be in adulthood?
She knows what's right and what's wrong because the Bible's words are not questioned here. She knows when a child needs prayer, a hand up, or boundaries. She's knows when an adult needs to heard, has strayed, or is grieving. She knows that she's nothing without the grace of a living, everpresent God. I couldn't ask for thoughts more pleasing to rock me to sleep tonight. God took the mess of a girl I was and made this unorthodox family of Harpers for His glory.
It's easy for me to see what the kids don't do up to par, but I would be remiss to not express my elation that they care for someone besides themselves. Compassion is welling up in them, not just from the things they've suffered but from the maturity that brings thankful insight. I don't ever want them to be the ones eager to get their picture in the paper for a good deed or to do volunteer work so as to better a college application. I don't want them to think everything worth doing involves money or a foot up. She has her struggles just like us all. When she's exhausted, she's "done" and can be very frank about it with that carrying voice which can be startling. Also, pride, the distortion that takes the good out of anything, has to be constantly pushed aside ...her own agendy set aside as well, because as much as she may seem a "Suzy Homemaker", she's very much a social butterfly and WAS born with a need for being out and about. I will say ...my answer is often "yes" when she has been presented with a reasonable invitation for fun.
Clubs, associations, and groups get some things done, but how many of us step in closer? Today, as she was already dogsitting and babysitting, she prepared enough supper to feed a small army to ease the burden of my friend who lost her father in a tragic accident, not only without complaint, but also with excitement for the details of extra touches. As Christians, we hope our children become "good samaritans", but are they practicing it already ...like everything else they aspire to be in adulthood?
She knows what's right and what's wrong because the Bible's words are not questioned here. She knows when a child needs prayer, a hand up, or boundaries. She's knows when an adult needs to heard, has strayed, or is grieving. She knows that she's nothing without the grace of a living, everpresent God. I couldn't ask for thoughts more pleasing to rock me to sleep tonight. God took the mess of a girl I was and made this unorthodox family of Harpers for His glory.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Today at Our House
It was busy as always when a party is in the works, Melody's 11th. We had 3 extra sets of hands on deck. I had gone out to inspect the pond area and decided it had to have some algae treatment, which needed to be done last week (so has gone the whole summer). McKala and Regan got in the inflatable boat with wisk-like branches to "assist" in the disbursement. Rusty, the beagle, who has become an avid swimmer, headed toward the blue cloud so I worried about his fur. Regan and I laughed at the thought of too much treatment giving all the party-goers a blue tinge, "smurf-like" as Regan said, and that it could be the new click for the first of school next week.
I went on with my straightening and within minutes, Tootsie, who patrols the border of the pond for frogs, became all worked up, ears pricked. Before I knew what was happening, she hurled a snake into the air. It wasn't what I'd expect to see. It had a tan color, was thick and a couple of feet long. I let out a shrill noise like a bottle rocket, hair standing on end, and I hate to admit, peed on myself. I had just been over there in the muck barefooted. It managed its way back in the water. At that point, I finally noticed the girls in their panic to get to the opposite side using the sticks feverishly for oars. McKala is deathly afraid of snakes and I was in hysterics watching them make short work with their pathetic tools.
In my panic, I still had enough curiosity to remain nearby and winced when I saw it swimming a good foot under the water, then came up for air with its orange head. Michael , Jr. had heard his name at such a pitch that he came quickly with weapon in hand and we thought killed it. Afterall, we were having a pond party in a few hours.
As we were inspecting Tootsie for bites, Michelle drove up to the pond to bring Jaycie, laughing at what a bunch of rednecks we looked like. We hadn't given any thought that we all still had on pajama pants and looked like we were just hanging out midday that way. We had to tell the whole story of course. As we did, it resurfaced and round 2 began. At that point, I proclaimed that these "hillbillies" needed a "CEment pond"! Michael sat and watched diligently 'til we just had to leave for practice.
Leaving 6 excited girls to decorate, we took the small ones with us and got some last minute things for the party, returning just in time for it and for Michael, Jr. to fire up the grill. We were once again surrounded by some of our favorite, fun friends and many of their parents. I'll have you know that no alcohol was necessary for the pleasant flow of things. As Virginia, Michelle, and I threw some more fruit dip and slaw together, Lou manned the grill and Christy photographed everything and everybody. She would come back periodically, leaning on the counter so she could hear the Sirius radio behind me. I finally ascertained that she was listening to the International Bluegrass Music Association award nominations and that they, one at the grill and one taking pictures, were indeed nominated and more than once. She let out a yell and ran to tell him, but hung out like "regular" folks the rest of the night. Good heavens, they just had their names called out on Sirius Radio ...cool. You wouldn't know it. We went shopping for groceries the night before and she pointed out how storebrand chips and hotdogs would be fine for the party, never mentioning the program that would follow the night after.
All in all, we had a "swell" time: kids, water (I warned them all about that snake but they braved it anyway), kittens, dogs, balloons, strawberries and otherwise good food, importantly "good condiments" as Lou said, and gorgeous cake (which Mike planned out and ordered with Melody, along with decorations, but didn't get to appreciate because this time work won him out, although he has a horrendous toothache). I was glad for the time alone with her to shop and eat yesterday because as I sat afterwards to "decompress" tonight, I realized I hardly spoke with her today.
I went on with my straightening and within minutes, Tootsie, who patrols the border of the pond for frogs, became all worked up, ears pricked. Before I knew what was happening, she hurled a snake into the air. It wasn't what I'd expect to see. It had a tan color, was thick and a couple of feet long. I let out a shrill noise like a bottle rocket, hair standing on end, and I hate to admit, peed on myself. I had just been over there in the muck barefooted. It managed its way back in the water. At that point, I finally noticed the girls in their panic to get to the opposite side using the sticks feverishly for oars. McKala is deathly afraid of snakes and I was in hysterics watching them make short work with their pathetic tools.
In my panic, I still had enough curiosity to remain nearby and winced when I saw it swimming a good foot under the water, then came up for air with its orange head. Michael , Jr. had heard his name at such a pitch that he came quickly with weapon in hand and we thought killed it. Afterall, we were having a pond party in a few hours.
As we were inspecting Tootsie for bites, Michelle drove up to the pond to bring Jaycie, laughing at what a bunch of rednecks we looked like. We hadn't given any thought that we all still had on pajama pants and looked like we were just hanging out midday that way. We had to tell the whole story of course. As we did, it resurfaced and round 2 began. At that point, I proclaimed that these "hillbillies" needed a "CEment pond"! Michael sat and watched diligently 'til we just had to leave for practice.
Leaving 6 excited girls to decorate, we took the small ones with us and got some last minute things for the party, returning just in time for it and for Michael, Jr. to fire up the grill. We were once again surrounded by some of our favorite, fun friends and many of their parents. I'll have you know that no alcohol was necessary for the pleasant flow of things. As Virginia, Michelle, and I threw some more fruit dip and slaw together, Lou manned the grill and Christy photographed everything and everybody. She would come back periodically, leaning on the counter so she could hear the Sirius radio behind me. I finally ascertained that she was listening to the International Bluegrass Music Association award nominations and that they, one at the grill and one taking pictures, were indeed nominated and more than once. She let out a yell and ran to tell him, but hung out like "regular" folks the rest of the night. Good heavens, they just had their names called out on Sirius Radio ...cool. You wouldn't know it. We went shopping for groceries the night before and she pointed out how storebrand chips and hotdogs would be fine for the party, never mentioning the program that would follow the night after.
All in all, we had a "swell" time: kids, water (I warned them all about that snake but they braved it anyway), kittens, dogs, balloons, strawberries and otherwise good food, importantly "good condiments" as Lou said, and gorgeous cake (which Mike planned out and ordered with Melody, along with decorations, but didn't get to appreciate because this time work won him out, although he has a horrendous toothache). I was glad for the time alone with her to shop and eat yesterday because as I sat afterwards to "decompress" tonight, I realized I hardly spoke with her today.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
February Revisited
Today started with distress and although my arguing points were valid, I love how God gets me alone (and I was alone, since the big kids were eating lunch with a gracious family and the little ones were riding with Mike to pick up a load) and He causes me to introspect. Being out in the warm sun with a breeze always makes it easier. I've become hypersensitive to Mike's remarks, so he finally expressed to me that I'm not perfect either. What it insinuated to me was that I think I am. On the contrary, I'm always looking for "me" and what's the next right thing to do. I tend to always foul that up one way or another. I want his approval more than anything, but when I don't approve of myself, I'll never find it from anyone else. I wondered why I was experiencing all this today and suddenly it drew itself forward, presenting verbally. By the water, I spoke it: that "I" do it to the kids, especially when I'm feeling desperately behind. They finish one thing and instead of showing my pleasure, my mind often strays to the next task. I don't give them the one thing I, myself, crave the most: approval. I think we "slavedrivers" are worried others will become complacent/content. Problem is we make people hopeless - that they'll never, ever be good enough. A person left in that state can't find peace.
Oddly, the first note I jotted down today was about overindulging in public ..........I had to step out just now to view the rain with the sun shining through it and the thunder rolling loudly nearby, the best of both worlds, confusing the eye a little with the vivid colors. Okay, back to public display, partying. We've dabbled in some the last year. It's good to know we can "hang" in there with the best of them. What's that really mean the next morning? - nothing at all. If anyone has to have the anonymity of a crowd to get away with doing things we wouldn't otherwise AND if we do unmentionable things in public to draw attention to ourselves, then we've strayed somewhere.
I had bought instructional DVD's for chair dancing last year because I understood the importance of "taking care of things at home". I threw them away and anything to do with it in a rant of agony last spring. I want to "want" to be pleasing again. I've struggled my whole married life to separate sex from shame. Shame happens when we injure our conscience by fornicating before we're married. Too ...playfulness is lost when we wear a veil of shame. Who says sex has a sultry mask? Pure unadulterated fun is what it's meant to be; I'm just sure of that. Now, the problem for us is that although our hearts are falling into place, our bodies (and mouths sometimes) are dividing us. Mike is in torment from one illness or another all the time. I am not in obedience in restoring myself to health. When he's hurting, he's grumpy. When I lack confidence, I'm grumpy. We reopen old wounds. These are obviously not the ingredients for passion.
Back to "public display" for a moment - another very legitimate reason for ideal weight is that it cements my case for modest behaviour instead of making me appear like a jealous woman who is incapable of performing the same entertainment. Simply put, most of us refuse. If we see it as repulsive, then we've just fallen for Satan's lie ...or we've been injured by the disregard of our mate. "It"/the dance/the eroticism is perfection 'til we involve thoughts of someone other than our parter in marriage. Someone from our past, from our fantasies, from the movies, from the clubs, from anywhere but right here & right now distort the beauty and purity of the act.
Back to home for a minute - by the way, I'll tell "the trim crowd" that reading on is much a replay from some of my writing in February, but we all have things that hinder us: pride, fear, smoking, lust, laziness, doubt, unforgiveness ... I do think fit people deserve accolades for their discipline ...without being googled by perverts. Soooo, my thoughts on home ...when we get home, it seems reasonable to "let it all hang out"/throw on the sweats and put the ponytail up. I think most of us are just exhausted and too busy to care until we see our husband's attention to another. I'm afraid I'm guilty, not so much of not caring, but of not doing enough to make null my excuses of being in between sizes, short on money, out of time to dress "cuter" at home. Then there's the (call it what you will because I know it's a copout ...but I know my faults), "it's easier to stay fat" since Mike and I haven't rebonded because I know what I'm like when my "sexyometer" is revving up. I'm admitting it's some kind of pride sin, but it's all good when Mike and I are on the same page, and all bad when I'm disoriented and secretly tempted to appreciate other attentions I might get. My second copout is that I know with no reservation that I won't regain the feminine near-perfection of a youthful pre-childbirth body. The adversary reminds me of this continually and weakens my resolve to make necessary changes today instead of tomorrow. I need disconnections in my mind and simply strive for healthiness for the confidence of living in obedience, much less - for the example.
What man wouldn't want to have a gentle smile and delicious aromas meet him at the door as it opens to a tidy house and thankful children? I stay home and am still not pulling it off. His irregular schedule with trucking and the ever changing activities of the children keep me off kilter. I'm usually not one to pray too specifically but I'm requesting God's allowance for Mike a way out of that truck. He's unwell. Full healing needs uninterrupted sleep, homecooked meals, outdoor work in the fresh air, recovery of our marriage bed, and time with the children before they're all grown.
The thing about "staying home" these days is that it's really hard to find someone to submit your future to who isn't a pervert or a sluggard, whether a churchgoer or not. Not having a career to default to is a scary idea, I know. The Bible says that in the last days women and children will rule. I always thought that seemed so out of place, but there is hardly a man raised up these days whom is worthy to follow. Actually, this last statement brings it full circle. Parents aren't interested in homelife enough to focus on anything much but a child's financial future. We as a society are failing miserably. We overlook our young ones' work ethic, moral fortitude, basic cleanliness, practical skills ...sometimes never even considering what kind of spouse or parent we're creating in our children, much less what kind of citizen. Please, don't think the school or church is doing it for you.
In this economy, the obvious draw from homelife is that even if a parent wants to put more time toward it, the debt and inability to sell an unneccesarily large home form a trap. The question we have to ask ourselves is: "Is starting over to save the character of our children (and our marriages) worth the loss of the kind of frills we're accustomed to and/or overcoming the fear of the unseen future? "Depending" on someone can lead to demise, BUT the beautiful thing is that it sews a stronger cord into love. The need for and the gratefulness for care/financial support are irreplaceable together.
I'll be "home" this week, but not really. Every night will involve football, which I love but necessitates an hour's drive. I hope to enlist Miranda's help, so I can get in at least one "walk and talk" session with Christy. (I'm glad to share her with Miranda who walks with her on Tuesdays and Thursdays to get back into shape, while volleyball practice goes on.) Monday will be a list/call/clean day. Tuesday will be Mary-Hope's mother's funeral, preceded by some grocery and birthday shopping for Melody. Wednesday is Melody's birthday and party. Thursday will involve paying bills and getting Mike home from his trip up north and to the dentist for what is a terribly painful, most likely abscessed tooth. I know, hard to believe, another ailment for Mike. Friday, Miranda and Melody will leave for a festival in Gettysburg with the Reids ...so nice of them. Thankfully, Saturday holds a get together at Jami and Shawn's house. In the middle of all this, we'll make time to find calves for Michael and McKala and, I surely hope, some playing and praying together.
"Why in the world tell you my schedule? We all have one." (We also all have to be careful not to let the hecticness of life suck out the sweetness of it.) By all accounts, this is one of those weeks when I could just procrastinate away exercise and eating well. Next week will probably set the same stage; then I'll find myself next February weighing and feeling the same. So, pray for me that I don't settle for less than my best. How hard can this be? - eat less, move more ...period. Old habits die hard though and I'm tempted most to eat when I'm losing energy late in the afternoon, usually tired from missing sleep. Caffeine isn't an option because it causes me restless sleep. I need to overcome this for all the reasons I've detailed. I even want Michael, Jr. to see me as my "attractive me" so that everything I say to him about girls is soaked in and not blown off as words of a chunky, sullen female basher. I hate to be legalistic about food or anything for that matter, but without law, there would be no order in the universe. I'm feeling pretty lame right now, but I'll be waiting for your prayers to spawn some inspiration in me come morning ...thanks in advance.
Oddly, the first note I jotted down today was about overindulging in public ..........I had to step out just now to view the rain with the sun shining through it and the thunder rolling loudly nearby, the best of both worlds, confusing the eye a little with the vivid colors. Okay, back to public display, partying. We've dabbled in some the last year. It's good to know we can "hang" in there with the best of them. What's that really mean the next morning? - nothing at all. If anyone has to have the anonymity of a crowd to get away with doing things we wouldn't otherwise AND if we do unmentionable things in public to draw attention to ourselves, then we've strayed somewhere.
I had bought instructional DVD's for chair dancing last year because I understood the importance of "taking care of things at home". I threw them away and anything to do with it in a rant of agony last spring. I want to "want" to be pleasing again. I've struggled my whole married life to separate sex from shame. Shame happens when we injure our conscience by fornicating before we're married. Too ...playfulness is lost when we wear a veil of shame. Who says sex has a sultry mask? Pure unadulterated fun is what it's meant to be; I'm just sure of that. Now, the problem for us is that although our hearts are falling into place, our bodies (and mouths sometimes) are dividing us. Mike is in torment from one illness or another all the time. I am not in obedience in restoring myself to health. When he's hurting, he's grumpy. When I lack confidence, I'm grumpy. We reopen old wounds. These are obviously not the ingredients for passion.
Back to "public display" for a moment - another very legitimate reason for ideal weight is that it cements my case for modest behaviour instead of making me appear like a jealous woman who is incapable of performing the same entertainment. Simply put, most of us refuse. If we see it as repulsive, then we've just fallen for Satan's lie ...or we've been injured by the disregard of our mate. "It"/the dance/the eroticism is perfection 'til we involve thoughts of someone other than our parter in marriage. Someone from our past, from our fantasies, from the movies, from the clubs, from anywhere but right here & right now distort the beauty and purity of the act.
Back to home for a minute - by the way, I'll tell "the trim crowd" that reading on is much a replay from some of my writing in February, but we all have things that hinder us: pride, fear, smoking, lust, laziness, doubt, unforgiveness ... I do think fit people deserve accolades for their discipline ...without being googled by perverts. Soooo, my thoughts on home ...when we get home, it seems reasonable to "let it all hang out"/throw on the sweats and put the ponytail up. I think most of us are just exhausted and too busy to care until we see our husband's attention to another. I'm afraid I'm guilty, not so much of not caring, but of not doing enough to make null my excuses of being in between sizes, short on money, out of time to dress "cuter" at home. Then there's the (call it what you will because I know it's a copout ...but I know my faults), "it's easier to stay fat" since Mike and I haven't rebonded because I know what I'm like when my "sexyometer" is revving up. I'm admitting it's some kind of pride sin, but it's all good when Mike and I are on the same page, and all bad when I'm disoriented and secretly tempted to appreciate other attentions I might get. My second copout is that I know with no reservation that I won't regain the feminine near-perfection of a youthful pre-childbirth body. The adversary reminds me of this continually and weakens my resolve to make necessary changes today instead of tomorrow. I need disconnections in my mind and simply strive for healthiness for the confidence of living in obedience, much less - for the example.
What man wouldn't want to have a gentle smile and delicious aromas meet him at the door as it opens to a tidy house and thankful children? I stay home and am still not pulling it off. His irregular schedule with trucking and the ever changing activities of the children keep me off kilter. I'm usually not one to pray too specifically but I'm requesting God's allowance for Mike a way out of that truck. He's unwell. Full healing needs uninterrupted sleep, homecooked meals, outdoor work in the fresh air, recovery of our marriage bed, and time with the children before they're all grown.
The thing about "staying home" these days is that it's really hard to find someone to submit your future to who isn't a pervert or a sluggard, whether a churchgoer or not. Not having a career to default to is a scary idea, I know. The Bible says that in the last days women and children will rule. I always thought that seemed so out of place, but there is hardly a man raised up these days whom is worthy to follow. Actually, this last statement brings it full circle. Parents aren't interested in homelife enough to focus on anything much but a child's financial future. We as a society are failing miserably. We overlook our young ones' work ethic, moral fortitude, basic cleanliness, practical skills ...sometimes never even considering what kind of spouse or parent we're creating in our children, much less what kind of citizen. Please, don't think the school or church is doing it for you.
In this economy, the obvious draw from homelife is that even if a parent wants to put more time toward it, the debt and inability to sell an unneccesarily large home form a trap. The question we have to ask ourselves is: "Is starting over to save the character of our children (and our marriages) worth the loss of the kind of frills we're accustomed to and/or overcoming the fear of the unseen future? "Depending" on someone can lead to demise, BUT the beautiful thing is that it sews a stronger cord into love. The need for and the gratefulness for care/financial support are irreplaceable together.
I'll be "home" this week, but not really. Every night will involve football, which I love but necessitates an hour's drive. I hope to enlist Miranda's help, so I can get in at least one "walk and talk" session with Christy. (I'm glad to share her with Miranda who walks with her on Tuesdays and Thursdays to get back into shape, while volleyball practice goes on.) Monday will be a list/call/clean day. Tuesday will be Mary-Hope's mother's funeral, preceded by some grocery and birthday shopping for Melody. Wednesday is Melody's birthday and party. Thursday will involve paying bills and getting Mike home from his trip up north and to the dentist for what is a terribly painful, most likely abscessed tooth. I know, hard to believe, another ailment for Mike. Friday, Miranda and Melody will leave for a festival in Gettysburg with the Reids ...so nice of them. Thankfully, Saturday holds a get together at Jami and Shawn's house. In the middle of all this, we'll make time to find calves for Michael and McKala and, I surely hope, some playing and praying together.
"Why in the world tell you my schedule? We all have one." (We also all have to be careful not to let the hecticness of life suck out the sweetness of it.) By all accounts, this is one of those weeks when I could just procrastinate away exercise and eating well. Next week will probably set the same stage; then I'll find myself next February weighing and feeling the same. So, pray for me that I don't settle for less than my best. How hard can this be? - eat less, move more ...period. Old habits die hard though and I'm tempted most to eat when I'm losing energy late in the afternoon, usually tired from missing sleep. Caffeine isn't an option because it causes me restless sleep. I need to overcome this for all the reasons I've detailed. I even want Michael, Jr. to see me as my "attractive me" so that everything I say to him about girls is soaked in and not blown off as words of a chunky, sullen female basher. I hate to be legalistic about food or anything for that matter, but without law, there would be no order in the universe. I'm feeling pretty lame right now, but I'll be waiting for your prayers to spawn some inspiration in me come morning ...thanks in advance.
Monday, August 1, 2011
The Big 4 0
I just came in from outside and was thinking how good it is to be surrounded by animals, flowers, and children. These things might not seem necessary until we find ourselves in a funk and can't see God in the world because of all the adults who get in the way of the view. This little statement does have relevance to my turning 40, but I'll move on to the "event" of turning over these 4 decades.
I'm having a hard time concentrating on details with the "symphony of unfortunate sounds" that's happening in the living room. (Actually, I'm in awe of some of things they've accomplished with the instruments today.) We have to leave for bible school in a few minutes anyway and I've had these PJs on since yesterday, so it's gonna take a few minutes for me to convince myself to change into something uncomfortable. The "big" kids have been on so many trips this summer that the little ones deserve full attention for this week of fun. I hope we can keep the Chinese-made nonessential prizes to a minimum, though; we just got the house in reasonable order before my party ...I'll be back to you tonight.
I've returned thankfully with only visors and am ready to recall the unraveling, if you're pessimistic, or the revealing, if you're optimistic of my "surprise party". Much of it began last weekend when Mike and I had an all out screaming match over a door I slammed. (I should know now by experience how much men hate that.) I've felt for some time that he's been short with me and in my deepest of deep thoughts have entertained the fear of his alter ego's return. He sees me as nit picker, I'm sure, even though I've developed enough self control to go silent when the heat kicks up. Regardless, I took off like a bat out of Hades, if that's possible in a minivan. I drove up Brushy Mountain Road to the orchards listening to some powerful Christian songs. A sermon came on and I reached to turn it more than once, but held off long enough to hear that it was about believing and hoping the best of one's partner until proven otherwise. I parked the car and watched the sun set. I was calmed and saw my error, hormonal week or not. I drove in our drive but wasn't ready to face the "crowd", so I walked off into the volleyball court to pull weeds. Those of you who have seen it lately know it was a losing battle.
Before long, I saw Mike coming ...and fast. He hadn't seen me. He threw it in park, cars nose to nose. He surprised me with his furiousity. Pouting I had mentioned before, in reference to the whole family's reluctance for teamwork, getting a hotel room and staying a while. I had left with no shoes and no such intentions, but he didn't know that since I had also thrown my phone out the window. Across the field, he proceeded to yell out all his frustrations and by doing so, made it clear how much I had hurt him by my earlier provoked, snide remark about our sex life. In hindside, the very thing I criticized I am equally guilty of creating.
I had no rage left for him. It had subsided and it was right for me to stand there and take it, although I got riled up enough to defend against some accusations. Regardless, he let it fly that he that very day had shopped, spending hundreds of dollars, on a party for me. I didn't have the nerve to tell him I'd known for weeks. As Michael, Jr. said, I wouldn't have been privy had I trusted him and not peeked over his shoulder as he gave his back to me checking messages. I will defend only the part that I still hold firm to and it applies to each and every one of us. Married people have no business whatsoever sending private messages (unless there's a surprise brewing) to anyone who is even close to a candidate for emotional or physical release. If you don't believe me, check back a few blogs.
So, we apologized and he went back to the house and I laid down in the cool, wet sand like some big sissy. It did feel good, though. I'm telling you there is something about the elements that bring God closer to me. It was dark and the fog was moving in. The cicadas were singing. That Beagle we'd had only a matter of 3 weeks came all the way down there and dug himself a hole right up next me. All seemed right with the world ...except the chasm that I just helped deepen ...and then, the dog started growling at something and being in the house seemed a really reasonable idea. We had another round while I was in the shower getting all that sand off, so I stayed there like a fool with the cold water running over me and gave a slight thought to how he might feel to come find me with purple lips, but that movie drama crap is not for me. It was COLD and I got out, wrapped in a blanket, and sat on the porch swing. Christy called to check on me and gave me sound advice. I felt pretty stupid after I laid out the premise of it all, but as she says, "What are friends for?"
The week was to me an unveiling, like finding a treasure - getting little details about my birthday every few hours. It was enticing and drew me back to my husband, his forethought for me even while working and battling the turmoil in his body. The day of the party, I woke with my monthly friend and an almost debilitating backache - fitting for someone who would not leave well enough alone. I was determined to start this year off by keeping my commitment to walk with Christy and to keep concentration on restoring myself to good health. When we started up that first hill, I understood what I was in for. I felt like poor old Smokey walking behind us, vigilantly guarding although his leg gives way ever so often. Those of you who have read deep into my writings are clued into what condition causes my episodes of aches and lethargy. I could be a posterchild for premarital warnings, but that's a story for another day.
After I showered and polished up, I was to ride with Christy to get her girls. She knew I was in serious discomfort so she came walking to the car with a concoction that saved the day. Now, "shine" is exactly the kind of thing a lady normally recoils to BUT this was "Apple Pie Shine", cinnamon floating, and I declare within a few minutes, I was so warm and cozy it could've been Christmas. All was right with the world again. I was just plain happy, not drunk ...happy. You did all wish me a "happy" birthday, right? It was an hour before we drove back to our house, so there is a small chance that I drank just a little much. I was most concerned about the breath I must've had because there was no hiding it....but ...I think all present will agree that I was "happy".
Walking through the door, I saw the faces that mean to most to me. I've tweaked my list of friends, so it's kinda small but it's jampacked with loyalty and goodness. I turned to the right to see a smile I haven't seen in person in 28 years, a childhood friend's. Words don't do justice to feelings drawn up out of the fabric of one's past. Most of the others were people who have welcomed me and mine into this county we've only been in 3 years. I've never had a period in my life with so many people I trust and care about and really enjoy. Mike and the kids had their smiles on, but I know they were exhausted from days of preparation. I hoped they would breathe it all in the way I was ...and I think they did, mostly because my friends are also the kind of people who are friends to our children.
The decorations in black and pink were "over the top" - streamers covering the ceiling and balloons floating everywhere. It was all just right. Jami and Shawn, Kristin and Jasmyn came to assist them in the finishing touches. He, Mike, in his pink shirt, looked relieved - that it was finally happening. He's done everything he knows to in the last year to prove his new found direction. I should walk more closely with him while he's doing so.
I don't know that I have any particular talent of "working a room". (I don't even remember the last birthday party I've had with friends gathered ...several baby showers, though!) Nonetheless, I floated around the room in something that seemed like a dance. It may or may not have had a relation to the aforementioned warm feeling. My living room was speckled with pretty tables and people I could give a part of my heart to and trust they wouldn't toss it around. I did miss Mary-Hope but quickly found out she had made an appearance but had darted out to do the work that most of us could never handle. I know there are a couple who had prior engagements and others who had legitimate things come up. I was "happy" with the group I was presented with and won't soon forget who showed me their faithfulness regardless of how busy their day was. Then, my Megan rolled in all the way from Georgia having worked that morning. That made the package complete - all my babies together ...and for me.
I talked and laughed so much that I never even blew out candles or tasted my gorgeous cake, but I was finally rounded up to open gifts. It's been 10 years since I sat with such an audience to receive presents, so I hadn't given it much thought. However, Christy had already given me her idea of what I needed. She was right on "target" (get it, Christy?). I love that Lou tried on handbags with her 'til she decided on something for me. She had listened and remembered that I had pointed out mine was worn out. That means a lot to me. Kristin had also listened to me. A few weeks prior, I'd mentioned that I was down to my last pair of Levi's and refused to buy until I was into a smaller pair, much less a bigger pair! She'd been shopping for me at Tractor Supply Co. - 'nuf said.
Mary-Hope had left a bottle of wine (which I'm sipping on right now) and one of perfume. Miranda had given a wine glass, but replaced it tonight with this one covered in "bling" and color. She had also taken the little ones shopping and got me a BAMA colored coffee cup filled with my favorites, Milky Ways, and a "cherry blossom" scented candle that Madalynn decided on after apparently "smelling them all". Megan brought me a GPS in hopes that I wouldn't end up in Tennessee next time I leave Georgia on a route I've been on dozens of times. Risa made a grand late entrance and brought me a gift of Key Lime treats that was just as personal as the other gifts. Loreilie made a big red memory album that sported a sparkly "m" on the cover. She had pulled pictures off Facebook and put them on the pages inside. It was definitely a tear jerking moment for me that she took the time away from her busy life to create it. Cindy gave me a Barnes and Noble giftcard, which makes me look forward to meandering around a bookstore very soon. More importantly, she gave me a card that said people like me are God's way of smiling at her. Even more importantly, she and most everyone else wrote personal messages in them, except Kristin BUT hers sang to me about how I shine and not ever changing that. (And her daughter, Jasmyn's, was just as kind.) Cousin Kimberly mailed a pretty one that trumped the impact of my legacy. Mary-Hope said that our friendship is a treasure that is hard to find. Christy's said that God put us together for a reason ...she's right.
Is it proper for me to divulge their innermost thoughts? I'm just sharing what being loved feels like. I don't deserve it, but I'm gonna wrap myself up in it and know that harldy anything else matters. There were other thoughtful cards and funny ones about my old age. (Virginia and Jami, you 30 yo youngsters are in for it; maybe I won't forget it in another 10 years!) Mike and the kids' said, "Look on the bright side ...you're as happy as ever and have so much to be thankful for ...(open card) Besides, it could be worse. You could be pregnant!" ANYONE who knows me well finds the humor in this! Then there was the card I got a day late, my Dad's. He never picks out a seperate one from my mother, but he did this time. It went on about the things you don't realize 'til your daughter's grown. I could want to strangle that man and he can bring me to pitiful tears when he does these things. (The check inside was just a bonus.)
So, this long story boils down to the fact that I couldn't have gone out shopping for myself and found things that would've suited me better - my friends hear me. God help 'em; it's hard not to. My husband gave me a day that encouraged me beyond any measure. He has on order something I've always wanted but would never dare purchase. My children honored me and celebrated our family. 40, so far, is most excellent.
I've been "saying" I'm almost 40 for over half a year, so "being" 40 now is no biggy. However, I do have to face the reality that I am likely halfway through my life. I see that as a good sign. I see that I have no time left for excuses, bitterness, apathy, bickering, or fear for anything less than my Creator. There's also no more time for puttin' up and shuttin' up. I have no intention of the next 10 years being "about" me. I just know now that I can't dole out myself at the expense of my physical and spiritual stability. You've seen people go "slam off"? Well, watch it being done ...with grace I hope. I've got to get moving. You know, at 40, we can't blame our parents, our friends, our spouses, our kids, our society, our jobs for our sorryness, our messes, our disingenuous purposes, our shallowness, our slow progress. In the same breath, I have to stress that we must never sacrifice anyone, especially our family, to play catch up. It's all out there now and everyone is watching us to see what real grown ups act like. Will we shun them, bore them to tears, laugh or drink them off? I'm looking for something I've never known or been, not to disconnect FROM people in my life but to be more FOR them. Shouldn't we all be, all the time?
I'm having a hard time concentrating on details with the "symphony of unfortunate sounds" that's happening in the living room. (Actually, I'm in awe of some of things they've accomplished with the instruments today.) We have to leave for bible school in a few minutes anyway and I've had these PJs on since yesterday, so it's gonna take a few minutes for me to convince myself to change into something uncomfortable. The "big" kids have been on so many trips this summer that the little ones deserve full attention for this week of fun. I hope we can keep the Chinese-made nonessential prizes to a minimum, though; we just got the house in reasonable order before my party ...I'll be back to you tonight.
I've returned thankfully with only visors and am ready to recall the unraveling, if you're pessimistic, or the revealing, if you're optimistic of my "surprise party". Much of it began last weekend when Mike and I had an all out screaming match over a door I slammed. (I should know now by experience how much men hate that.) I've felt for some time that he's been short with me and in my deepest of deep thoughts have entertained the fear of his alter ego's return. He sees me as nit picker, I'm sure, even though I've developed enough self control to go silent when the heat kicks up. Regardless, I took off like a bat out of Hades, if that's possible in a minivan. I drove up Brushy Mountain Road to the orchards listening to some powerful Christian songs. A sermon came on and I reached to turn it more than once, but held off long enough to hear that it was about believing and hoping the best of one's partner until proven otherwise. I parked the car and watched the sun set. I was calmed and saw my error, hormonal week or not. I drove in our drive but wasn't ready to face the "crowd", so I walked off into the volleyball court to pull weeds. Those of you who have seen it lately know it was a losing battle.
Before long, I saw Mike coming ...and fast. He hadn't seen me. He threw it in park, cars nose to nose. He surprised me with his furiousity. Pouting I had mentioned before, in reference to the whole family's reluctance for teamwork, getting a hotel room and staying a while. I had left with no shoes and no such intentions, but he didn't know that since I had also thrown my phone out the window. Across the field, he proceeded to yell out all his frustrations and by doing so, made it clear how much I had hurt him by my earlier provoked, snide remark about our sex life. In hindside, the very thing I criticized I am equally guilty of creating.
I had no rage left for him. It had subsided and it was right for me to stand there and take it, although I got riled up enough to defend against some accusations. Regardless, he let it fly that he that very day had shopped, spending hundreds of dollars, on a party for me. I didn't have the nerve to tell him I'd known for weeks. As Michael, Jr. said, I wouldn't have been privy had I trusted him and not peeked over his shoulder as he gave his back to me checking messages. I will defend only the part that I still hold firm to and it applies to each and every one of us. Married people have no business whatsoever sending private messages (unless there's a surprise brewing) to anyone who is even close to a candidate for emotional or physical release. If you don't believe me, check back a few blogs.
So, we apologized and he went back to the house and I laid down in the cool, wet sand like some big sissy. It did feel good, though. I'm telling you there is something about the elements that bring God closer to me. It was dark and the fog was moving in. The cicadas were singing. That Beagle we'd had only a matter of 3 weeks came all the way down there and dug himself a hole right up next me. All seemed right with the world ...except the chasm that I just helped deepen ...and then, the dog started growling at something and being in the house seemed a really reasonable idea. We had another round while I was in the shower getting all that sand off, so I stayed there like a fool with the cold water running over me and gave a slight thought to how he might feel to come find me with purple lips, but that movie drama crap is not for me. It was COLD and I got out, wrapped in a blanket, and sat on the porch swing. Christy called to check on me and gave me sound advice. I felt pretty stupid after I laid out the premise of it all, but as she says, "What are friends for?"
The week was to me an unveiling, like finding a treasure - getting little details about my birthday every few hours. It was enticing and drew me back to my husband, his forethought for me even while working and battling the turmoil in his body. The day of the party, I woke with my monthly friend and an almost debilitating backache - fitting for someone who would not leave well enough alone. I was determined to start this year off by keeping my commitment to walk with Christy and to keep concentration on restoring myself to good health. When we started up that first hill, I understood what I was in for. I felt like poor old Smokey walking behind us, vigilantly guarding although his leg gives way ever so often. Those of you who have read deep into my writings are clued into what condition causes my episodes of aches and lethargy. I could be a posterchild for premarital warnings, but that's a story for another day.
After I showered and polished up, I was to ride with Christy to get her girls. She knew I was in serious discomfort so she came walking to the car with a concoction that saved the day. Now, "shine" is exactly the kind of thing a lady normally recoils to BUT this was "Apple Pie Shine", cinnamon floating, and I declare within a few minutes, I was so warm and cozy it could've been Christmas. All was right with the world again. I was just plain happy, not drunk ...happy. You did all wish me a "happy" birthday, right? It was an hour before we drove back to our house, so there is a small chance that I drank just a little much. I was most concerned about the breath I must've had because there was no hiding it....but ...I think all present will agree that I was "happy".
Walking through the door, I saw the faces that mean to most to me. I've tweaked my list of friends, so it's kinda small but it's jampacked with loyalty and goodness. I turned to the right to see a smile I haven't seen in person in 28 years, a childhood friend's. Words don't do justice to feelings drawn up out of the fabric of one's past. Most of the others were people who have welcomed me and mine into this county we've only been in 3 years. I've never had a period in my life with so many people I trust and care about and really enjoy. Mike and the kids had their smiles on, but I know they were exhausted from days of preparation. I hoped they would breathe it all in the way I was ...and I think they did, mostly because my friends are also the kind of people who are friends to our children.
The decorations in black and pink were "over the top" - streamers covering the ceiling and balloons floating everywhere. It was all just right. Jami and Shawn, Kristin and Jasmyn came to assist them in the finishing touches. He, Mike, in his pink shirt, looked relieved - that it was finally happening. He's done everything he knows to in the last year to prove his new found direction. I should walk more closely with him while he's doing so.
I don't know that I have any particular talent of "working a room". (I don't even remember the last birthday party I've had with friends gathered ...several baby showers, though!) Nonetheless, I floated around the room in something that seemed like a dance. It may or may not have had a relation to the aforementioned warm feeling. My living room was speckled with pretty tables and people I could give a part of my heart to and trust they wouldn't toss it around. I did miss Mary-Hope but quickly found out she had made an appearance but had darted out to do the work that most of us could never handle. I know there are a couple who had prior engagements and others who had legitimate things come up. I was "happy" with the group I was presented with and won't soon forget who showed me their faithfulness regardless of how busy their day was. Then, my Megan rolled in all the way from Georgia having worked that morning. That made the package complete - all my babies together ...and for me.
I talked and laughed so much that I never even blew out candles or tasted my gorgeous cake, but I was finally rounded up to open gifts. It's been 10 years since I sat with such an audience to receive presents, so I hadn't given it much thought. However, Christy had already given me her idea of what I needed. She was right on "target" (get it, Christy?). I love that Lou tried on handbags with her 'til she decided on something for me. She had listened and remembered that I had pointed out mine was worn out. That means a lot to me. Kristin had also listened to me. A few weeks prior, I'd mentioned that I was down to my last pair of Levi's and refused to buy until I was into a smaller pair, much less a bigger pair! She'd been shopping for me at Tractor Supply Co. - 'nuf said.
Mary-Hope had left a bottle of wine (which I'm sipping on right now) and one of perfume. Miranda had given a wine glass, but replaced it tonight with this one covered in "bling" and color. She had also taken the little ones shopping and got me a BAMA colored coffee cup filled with my favorites, Milky Ways, and a "cherry blossom" scented candle that Madalynn decided on after apparently "smelling them all". Megan brought me a GPS in hopes that I wouldn't end up in Tennessee next time I leave Georgia on a route I've been on dozens of times. Risa made a grand late entrance and brought me a gift of Key Lime treats that was just as personal as the other gifts. Loreilie made a big red memory album that sported a sparkly "m" on the cover. She had pulled pictures off Facebook and put them on the pages inside. It was definitely a tear jerking moment for me that she took the time away from her busy life to create it. Cindy gave me a Barnes and Noble giftcard, which makes me look forward to meandering around a bookstore very soon. More importantly, she gave me a card that said people like me are God's way of smiling at her. Even more importantly, she and most everyone else wrote personal messages in them, except Kristin BUT hers sang to me about how I shine and not ever changing that. (And her daughter, Jasmyn's, was just as kind.) Cousin Kimberly mailed a pretty one that trumped the impact of my legacy. Mary-Hope said that our friendship is a treasure that is hard to find. Christy's said that God put us together for a reason ...she's right.
Is it proper for me to divulge their innermost thoughts? I'm just sharing what being loved feels like. I don't deserve it, but I'm gonna wrap myself up in it and know that harldy anything else matters. There were other thoughtful cards and funny ones about my old age. (Virginia and Jami, you 30 yo youngsters are in for it; maybe I won't forget it in another 10 years!) Mike and the kids' said, "Look on the bright side ...you're as happy as ever and have so much to be thankful for ...(open card) Besides, it could be worse. You could be pregnant!" ANYONE who knows me well finds the humor in this! Then there was the card I got a day late, my Dad's. He never picks out a seperate one from my mother, but he did this time. It went on about the things you don't realize 'til your daughter's grown. I could want to strangle that man and he can bring me to pitiful tears when he does these things. (The check inside was just a bonus.)
So, this long story boils down to the fact that I couldn't have gone out shopping for myself and found things that would've suited me better - my friends hear me. God help 'em; it's hard not to. My husband gave me a day that encouraged me beyond any measure. He has on order something I've always wanted but would never dare purchase. My children honored me and celebrated our family. 40, so far, is most excellent.
I've been "saying" I'm almost 40 for over half a year, so "being" 40 now is no biggy. However, I do have to face the reality that I am likely halfway through my life. I see that as a good sign. I see that I have no time left for excuses, bitterness, apathy, bickering, or fear for anything less than my Creator. There's also no more time for puttin' up and shuttin' up. I have no intention of the next 10 years being "about" me. I just know now that I can't dole out myself at the expense of my physical and spiritual stability. You've seen people go "slam off"? Well, watch it being done ...with grace I hope. I've got to get moving. You know, at 40, we can't blame our parents, our friends, our spouses, our kids, our society, our jobs for our sorryness, our messes, our disingenuous purposes, our shallowness, our slow progress. In the same breath, I have to stress that we must never sacrifice anyone, especially our family, to play catch up. It's all out there now and everyone is watching us to see what real grown ups act like. Will we shun them, bore them to tears, laugh or drink them off? I'm looking for something I've never known or been, not to disconnect FROM people in my life but to be more FOR them. Shouldn't we all be, all the time?
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