Moving!

Okay, we close tomorrow and move on Saturday!

Remember the song?  "Hey! S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y!"  Okay, just the beginning, the rest is silly.  I'm chanting the spelling and whoo-hooing til everyone thinks I'm a hillbilly.

With my back out, I'll be giving orders rather than lifting and hauling myself - pray for those dear moving boys - I'll be gentle, really I will.

But soon we will be lying in the midst of chaos admiring the floor to ceiling boxes and months of work ahead of us.  Praise be to God.  This day has come.

Thanks for your thoughts and prayers.

Here's to redecorating on the cheap and making our new house a home.

God bless you all!

Seeing Through the Pain

Last night my back went out again.  Well, my shoulder which is attached to my back, which sends pain coursing through my body at lightning speed.

The first time this happened it was 1990 and I had been in a car accident three days prior.  I woke up out of a deep sleep screaming.  It was surreal and very, very REAL.  It has been determined that the scar tissue from the whiplash compresses the nerves and occasionally, about every 5-8 years, when stress is high and heavy lifting necessary, the result is this debilitating pain that every move aggravates.

Since we were starting to move some things over to the new house, fate picked last night and this morning to revive this old wound.

I've iced it, and done the deep heating rub, taken a scalding hot bath and am now left with numbness in my hands and the hurt hopefully relegated to one small area.  I feel exhausted and completely fatigued.  Yet, in there somewhere is also a peace.

I think of Elle lying in her bed with all those tubes in her and the ventilator helping her to breathe.

Okay, back up, I've been in Arkansas and haven't blogged about Elle.

Elle is the 21 year old daughter of my best friend from junior high and high school.  All of her life she has suffered from an immunity disorder (not HIV) that has meant a lifetime of medication, doctors, hospitals and a not-very-normal life.

Elle is beautiful and full of life.  Funny, witty, charming.  So last week when she suffered a  heart attack from a pulmonary embolism we all did a double take and our world stopped.  I flew to Arkansas to be there with her mother and watched as they took her into open heart surgery, helpless except for my prayers.

Then we waited for her to wake up.  We waited, and waited.

She did not wake while I was there.  I had to return home to my own family and just pray that she would come through this.

This morning she opened her eyes and moved some.  Five days, if I've counted right.  She didn't wake up for five days.

My pain is so irrelevant.  Elle is with us and prayers work.

I came home to see my children a little differently.  Time is the important thing.  There is schoolwork to do and chores and all of that.  But time holding them and snuggling and giggling and talking is better.

It's all we wanted for Elle to be able to do again.  To smile.  To laugh.  To know we love her and to feel the joy of her.

My pain is still there and boy, it really hurts.  But as long as I can see clearly I'm good.

We'll get to all those things at some point.  In the midst of pain; we can stop and hold on to each other, pray and hug, be thankful for Elle, and just be for a moment.  Sometimes God needs to interrupt us to say, "Be still and know that I am God."

Well, Lord, I'm listening.  And thanks.

Big Dreams, Harsh Judgement

I saw the link to Elizabeth Foss's blog and anxiously went to read her topic on gentleness in the real world.  It was not at all what I expected and rather surprising to me.  I read, and then I watched this video which, apparently, everyone has seen but me over the past year.  You can read the entry here:
http://www.elizabethfoss.com/reallearning/2011/06/gentleness-in-the-real-world-1.html

I don't think Ms. Foss deals very "gently" with this young woman and her aspirations of finding a Catholic husband.  Maybe she doesn't remember what it was like to be young and unmarried with high hopes of changing the world and finding a soul mate to change it with you.  These are big goals at this age and they are good.  God gives us this tough outer vision that makes us feel like we can make a difference, even though we're so small and don't know how hard it is yet.

In a world where young men are being redefined by the world's warped definition of manhood, this young woman long's for a boy willing to pray, willing to remain chaste, willing to speak out against abortion, and more.  It's not a list, it's a lifestyle.  I'll say that again...

IT'S NOT A LIST, IT'S A LIFESTYLE!

And while the lyrics didn't happen to include acts of mercy, they are rooted in the lifestyle.  This criticism is unfair.  It's a song and it doesn't have 20 verses.  If it did, I'm sure it would cover lenten fasting, attending mass on feast days, and more.

I think this young lady has a beautiful vision of her future husband and more importantly, she knows he may not be easy to find.  We cannot change men into who we want them to be.  While we grow together in marriage and learn how to serve and become God's family unit working together, if you don't start with the right ingredients then things can go sour pretty easily.

Marriage is hard enough without choosing someone who needs to be reformed or who has habits that tend toward worldliness.

I have a son and I hope his future wife demands more of him than he does of himself.  "Iron sharpens iron, So one man (or woman) sharpens another."  (my italics)
Proverbs 27:16-18

My son will have the opportunity to be a leader of a family someday.  I hope his wife doesn't settle for him doing things and falling into habits that are not beneficial for the entire family.   My husband shakes me out of my boots sometimes when I get lazy and I thank God for it.  I am a better person because of his high standards and vice versa.

The merciful and kind thing to do is to not marry or be joined with someone who does not share your passion in faith.  This young woman is young but it is clear she has a huge passion and desires to share that zeal for her faith in marriage.  It is naive to think she is unaware that her future husband will not fall into sin or have struggles in his life.


In a world that is constantly leveling the playing field in the name of "peace" or toleration, which is a secular form of gentleness, I say let her have her high standards and see who she finds to help her change the world.  Soon enough she will be beaten and trod on by things she cannot control and a world whose ideals have become barren.  


If my daughters ever write and sing a song like this I will stand up and cheer and know that I have done well as a mother.


God bless you all and may a little of her fervor rub off on us today!

Creativity Withdrawal

So all my lovely crafty things have been packed up for a long time.  The scrapbooking, jewelry making, sewing supplies, etc. are all patiently waiting for me in storage.

I, however, am not so patiently approaching the moving day.  Even after we move there will be weeks of unpacking and while I look forward to the discoveries of items I'd forgotten about, it won't mean I'm ready to embrace the finished and ready craft room that I've long dreamed of.

You know that magazine, "Where Women Create?"  I've bought a few of those and longed to have a room all to myself where I could create a space just for me to "create" wonderful things.  Well, it's weeks away that my dream will come true and to be honest, I'm nervous.

Now don't get any ideas that I get to go out and buy antique library drawers and lawyers bookcases to furnish said room.  In storage I have the very functional yet mundane IKEA bookshelves to harbor my treasures for creating masterpieces.  While not so eye-catching, they actually provide tons of storage and aren't so bad if you can embrace their contemporary mood.  Of course I love nothing contemporary except the price tag - can you say uber cheap?

So at least I have the room and it is furnished and all my lovely supplies will fit inside.  Now for the hard part.  After a six month hiatus from scrapbooking and a long time away from all the rest, will my creative juices flow once again once the room is ready and waiting?  Here's hoping.

This moving thing has made me tired from the inside out.  That and Summer.  Summer used to invigorate but this year I'm just pooped.  Well, I think I'll go take my vitamins and try to embrace the day's packing and cleaning.

And who knows, maybe today I'll find a way to be creative without the craft room and "stuff!"

God bless!

Impending Move...

I slowly mark the days off the calendar.  We are almost halfway there, halfway through June.  I look around the house and realize I'd better start packing up the rest.  The movers have been booked but they require things to be boxed and ready to go.

I am excited about the new house and being there.  I'm not too excited about the transition.  Is it that now I'm a little older the work is harder and my body doesn't recover as quickly as it used to?  I have all these great goals to start dieting and working our after the move.  Oh to be thin again...but I digress.

After a very tough week I am looking forward to a better one coming up.  We start our Home School Book CLub this week and we've been reading the Little House books by Laura Ingalls Wilder. 

You know, when I was a kid I wanted to live in those times.  Now as an adult reading them I think to myself, "No way!"  Skinning animal hides, making butter, smoking meat in a tree, fighting off Indians and mountain lions?  Whoa, Nelly!  Take me back to toilet seats and computer screens.

So now it's time for my children to wax nostalgic over the idealism of life on the prairie.  Mom, however, is waxing nostalgic over her new house and 1.2 acres that come with it.  Anyone want to help me clean it?   ......oh well, I thought I'd ask!

The Gleaning Season

What is going on?  My life and the lives of others are being trampled on the threshing floor and we are writhing, struggling, crying...and growing?

The past two weeks have been utter chaos.  A battle between wills, a struggle to stay positive, and a plethora of small problems that have added fuel to the fire.

It began when my friend and I had a misunderstanding which escalated into an all out argument.  I almost lost her, thank goodness for grace.  I also had a car accident, almost choked, and had to care for my three kiddos alone because the Giant was in Florida at a business conference.  This meant his support was not only miles away, but it was not nearly as comforting as I needed it to be.

Top all this off with a little heat exhaustion which I am still recovering from, and you would have reason enough to either take a vacation or visit a monastery for some recovery time.

But wait, there's more.  I am a member of an eloop of women.  It is a support group for home school moms.  This group is suffering similar pains that I have had this week.  A comment was made and interpreted and responded to.  Someone's feelings got hurt.  Cue the sound guy to play that rewind of tape sound - my life exactly 1 week ago.

The ruler of this world is having a field day among these beautiful and loving women.  He is trampling and kicking and twisting and...he's laughing too.  I want to scream and say something but I know I will not be heard among the din.

I think of Jesus hanging on the cross.  Imagine the wails, the screams and shouts while he was being nailed to it.  For awhile after it was lifted up the jeers and the taunts to save Himself fling through the air.  Then I imagine it gets pretty quiet.  Everyone realizes He will not save Himself, but that this is truly a tragic end to a miraculous beginning (they do not know the end of the story and cannot even imagine it).  I think of Peter, having just denied Him, watching, unable to apologize and unable to rationalize the horror of the situation.  It's so quiet.

It is in this quiet that our own sins seem so ridiculous.  Why, Lord?  Why was I so needy, so demanding of justice?  How could I not see the hurt I was causing?  How can I heal it now, after so much has been said and so many have dug into the trenches?

Remember the story of World War II soldiers at Christmas time?  How they heard each other singing carols across the trenches and they united in one night of peace to celebrate the greatest miracle ever?  What amazes me is that they could pick up the rifles once more in the morning, and so quickly forget that moment of unity.

But that is the human condition.  That is what the ruler of this world rejoices over daily.  He is a sly devil.

If I had the gift I would place my hands on the heads of these women and pray for their healing.  That is not my gift.  I will pray for them and hope that the splintering is not beyond healing.  What can I do?   I can embrace my friend that I argued with last week and say I'm sorry and set a better example for my children. 

The angels are weeping and we have the power to stop it.  It is only our pride standing in the way.

My children and I watched a movie about St. Therese of Lisieux this week.  Her "little way" is so hard for so many.  But it is the way to Jesus, so honest and childlike.  St. Therese, pray for us and lead the way for us to follow in your footsteps.

God bless you all.

Bohemian Rhapsody

I was born in November.  Heaven help me, I am influenced by the mighty scorpion and all that goes with that.  Am I into astrology?  No!  I am not.  However, I do believe that God ordered the universe and I happen to fall into a category of people who are, shall we say, a wee bit emotional?

I have met others like me and most go off the deep end; they dress in either bright colors of handmade tie-dyed fabrics or they go in the opposite direction wearing nothing but long black skirts and bright red lipstick with loads of jewelry.

I, on the other hand...look normal.  I dress normal and try to behave normally in most situations.

Then suddenly it happens and the scorpion strikes at me.  I get overly sensitive and needy.  I have the urge to go to Hobby Lobby and start a brand new project which will cost ridiculous amounts of money.  I lie in bed sobbing over something I did weeks or even years ago.  I make STUPID decisions.

The Giant can't usually figure it out until the PMS is too grandiose to ignore.  Then when he confronts me with it another emotional tirade ensues. 

But this is me.  It's who I am.  Now I have learned to temper it because it really ticks people off sometimes.  I see the world as one great big opportunity.  Everything ahead is an adventure until some pessimist convinces me that it is hopeless.  Trust me when I say, the last thing the world needs is a pessimistic scorpion! 

Optimism is our trademark because with it, we actually believe we will change the world for the better.  No kidding. We do.  We believe that wholeheartedly.

I have sometimes surprised myself at things I have done in my life.  I have had some great successes.  I have lassoed the moon and pulled it to earth on occasion.

In the past ten years though, I have let myself become too grounded by convention.  I had Big Girl eleven years ago.  Then she was followed over the years by Mr. Happiness and Pigeon, and I seem to have become Old Mother Hubbard.

Now convention can be good.  A little dose of realism is very good for us artistic types, otherwise we would move to an artists colony and never grow up.  But too much can steal our dreams, and when that happens, well; it's not good.

You see we thrive on the challenge.  Give me a task and say it's impossible and I will do it exceedingly well.  This is how God made my brain.  I can't help it.  It's a fact so just go with it. 

However, big word of warning; we instantly recognize patronizing.  Don't just agree with us to walk away and say we are nuts - we'll know.  We always know!  Ask our husbands.

Maybe we should all run for congress?  Just kidding - we don't have a vision for that - too conventional.

So today I am embarking on embracing the bohemian in me and the realization that just because I am a mother, I do not have to be conventional.  I am a bohemian home school mom and I must embrace that.  I will educate my children well and I will teach them that my passion for life is not misdirected, as some think, but a blessing given to me by God to be lived out in a passionate display of joy.

Want to come along on the journey?  It may be a roller coaster at times.  I can't promise never to get angry, or cry, or paint the walls purple (actually, I hate purple)...red, I mean; but I can promise that it will be an adventure.  We will laugh together at the tears we cried over spilt milk, and we will walk in the abundance of God's amazing garden, and each day will be full.

Ready?  

God bless!

In Limbo...

So after the adrenaline from the accepted offer on our house and the one we're buying comes home inspections and decisions about fix ups and repairs.  Then a lull.

A quiet so quiet after all the long months of prep work that it seems the birds sing louder and the car engines are bothersome as they go by.  I know it's just the fact that now I get up and I have leisure time - time to listen.  Time to decide what we will do today (besides schoolwork).  All the recitals are over too and some lessons have ended for the Summer.

Now there is time in abundance.  Yet there is nothing I can do to make our closing date approach faster - because after that the chaos will ensue once more and time will scream by at lightning speeds once again.

I love these slow days.  I want to bottle them.

I should make a list of things we can do before we move.  Of course these things cannot involve supreme mess making or spending, due to impending changes, but there has to be some great opportunities here.

Big Girl can finish her quilt,   Mr. Happiness can figure out with Dad which Wolf Cub patches he can earn over the Summer and do that, Pigeon can get ahead in her reading.

And me?  Hmmmm.  I bought a drop spindle this last weekend.  Step number one to my eventual purchase of a full-fledged spinning wheel.  So I plan to learn to spin.  Good luck me.

I need a really good book to read.  A real page turner.  Should I just dive into Pride & Prejudice AGAIN?  Is there anything out there to even come close?  Darcy appears to be calling...

I look at my beautiful roses I planted so many years ago.  They are historical roses from the Heritage Rose Gardens at Independence, Texas.  I must enjoy them briefly and leave them behind.  It's bittersweet, they've pricked me a thousand times yet their blooms have spread their sweet scent over our yard and the delicate flowers always make me smile.  We'll be off to purchase some for our new garden in July.  Sigh.

Well, I am relaxed enough to sit here all day, but life is calling and piano lessons are still on the calendar.  Pigeon begins these soon.  Duty calls.

Have a marvelous day!