Off-Key Crowing (Not to be confused with Off-Shore Rowing)

Hello Old Friend, it has been awhile. The last time I visited was February and it was snowing and cold. Today though, the sky is crayon-colored and definitely Sky Blue. While I can't exactly say it is warm warm, I am sitting in a favorite spot on the front porch without a jacket. The rooster is nearby and I am hearing his periodic off-key yet proud crows which proclaim that he is quite happy about the day.

I really think I could learn some lessons from that rooster. You know, like when I awaken in the morning, I need to rise from my tangled nest of covers and proclaim in an audible voice, "Today is a good day to be alive! Now, go forth and live!"

Lately, I've been more of a mindset to stay under the covers, burrowing deeper and not wanting to deal with whatever comes my way. I am overwhelmed by phone calls, appointments to make, appointments to keep, the to-do list that has become so long that I don't even want to start it, and taxes that were due and too much paperwork to retrieve out of thin air because of my foolishness in not backing it up and losing 1 1/2 years of work. My hair was starting to stay in a permanent stand-on-end position because I keep running my fingers through it and pulling up in frustration. I have been feeling nauseous on and off most days and the knot in the pit of my stomach just seemed to never want to go away.

I don't handle stress very well. Sometimes it is better than other times, but lately, no.

I need to go back to the basics and at the very core of it is God. When I let life take over, I let my time with God fall to the back burner and I am ashamed at how easily I let that happen. My daughter, Amy, and I were texting one evening and I admitted to her how I have been falling (and sometimes pulling) away from God. She told me to get back into the Word. I listened and I asked her to keep me accountable. Send me a text every now and then and just ask "Did you read today?" or "What did you read?".

While I have begun to get back into the Word of God, I can't say that all the stress just dissipated. In some ways, I feel it more. There is a battle going on and I need to hang on to the One who created me, who loves me even when I lose my focus, mess up, and fall down again and again.

So, I sit on my porch and I think I'm going to give it a name. I learned that my Great Grandma had a little room situated off the back of her garage that she called "The Elijah Room" and this was where she studied and read the Bible. I want to look into why she called it the Elijah Room but for now, that's what I'm calling my porch. It'll be my Elijah Room, my room (when the weather is warm) to study, reflect, renew and de-stress. And to prepare for battle.

Today, what did I read? I read in Exodus 4:10-11 where Moses was talking to God and he was telling God why he was not suited for the job God was calling him to do. God pretty much said, "Hey, Moses, who created you? Did I not make you to be the way you are? And I am not calling you for this purpose? Get your head out from under those covers, go forth and live."

Yes, I paraphrased and took a little liberty with that, but there you have it. When I am nervous, tense and anxious and feel like my role, my tasks are too big, too hard and much too much, I am not only underestimating myself, I am underestimating God. He believes in me and I have to trust that He knows what He is doing.

I may need a reminder now and then, so when you see me, just ask how I greeted my morning. Was it with an off-key, yet ready-to-face-the-day crow or with silent grumbling.

Cock-A-Doodle-Doooooooooo,
Dianne

P.S. It is good to be back.

A Blank Slate

A blank page. It all starts with a blank page, or a blank slate if you will.

I sit. I look at it. I randomly tap my fingers with the resulting ajdfa;djfalkdsjfa;dlsjf.  I take a sip of coffee. A blank page can be daunting. Not just blank, but lacking. To fill it with words is a task that sometimes overwhelms me. The ideas are there sometimes; it is the putting them down on paper that I get stuck at. Not because I can't put them together, but I don't want to put them together wrong. I don't want to be offensive when no offense was meant. I don't want to disappoint or not live up to even my own expectations.

I take a bite of eggs, scrambled with sausage, mushrooms, red peppers and olives.
I am easily distracted. That makes filling a blank page harder to do too. Heather needs picked up at the church after an overnight campout and Ryan wants to look at books detailing how to build a treehouse. I step away to do those important tasks. Yes, distracted. And my eggs are getting cold.

fdfskldfjkldjf;ljd. Okay. A New Year. 2015. A year with promise and possibility. A calendar that is relatively blank and here I am again, back to the blank. Not only is 2015 blank, but my every single day is. This is the time of year that all the stores target us to improve, to organize, to exercise, to eat better, move more and be " a better you!"

The thing is, I could have started all that on November 13th and I would already be a month and a half ahead of everyone else.

I found a verse this morning that I want to share. Here it is (the emphasis is my own):

Colossians 2:14-17
14 the slate wiped clean, that old arrest warrant canceled and nailed to Christ's Cross. 15 He stripped all the spiritual tyrants in the universe of their sham authority at the Cross and marched them naked through the streets. 16 So don't put up with anyone pressuring you in details of diet, worship services, or holy days. 17 All those things are mere shadows cast before what was to come; the substance is Christ.

I could, and do, get caught up in the New Year hype. I want a new start, a fresh beginning. I get so tired of the baggage of the past that I carry; that baggage that times I do put down for a season, but it always seems to find me again.

What if I believed that my old arrest warrant was cancelled? That is was nailed to the cross with Jesus. Not only is my slate wiped clean, but I am stripped naked and exposed. God sees me for who I am and He loves me. Me.

Whew.

Kinda takes my breath away.

My slate is clean. The pressure that I feel "to do", "to be" needs to be overshadowed with "the substance of Christ." Ah, now that's a goal for 2015.

My paper is no longer blank. The words are there and I pray that in some way, you hear the message. Not my message, but God's. He loves you. Whew. Take a breath and just think about that.

Have a Blessed New Year Day!

Love,
Dianne

A Tale of Two Eyebrows

I got my eyebrows waxed and plucked the other day. I don't get my nails done, I don't go for a regular massage or facial (although this could be a possibility…hmmmm), but I do go every so often and get the brows corralled back into order.

They are rather beastly things and need to be tamed. They have been known to frighten small children and little dogs. And now? Well, let's just say that half of me looks surprised and the other side is not.

I now have uneven brows. Asymmetrical. One curves up as though I was just told something exciting, the other just says "oh, not so much going on here" How did this happen?

Let's just say, that for those that have never had their eyebrows waxed and plucked, that it is pretty much like stabbing pins in your face while ripping swatches of hair out by the roots at the same time. The warm wax feels nice but then it is interrupted quite rudely by a piece of paper being pressed into it. Then the paper, with the wax that now has your eyebrow hairs embedded in it, are ripped off in one quick motion. It is all I can do not to let out a very loud: "OUCH!!!" But that is better than the fine-tuning that occurs when individual eyebrow hairs are plucked out one-by-one-by-one. Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow!

Torture.

I keep my eyes closed throughout the process and trust that the plucker knows eyebrows and will give me the desired result. The other day, as she plucked, I felt like their was a bit of a one-sided focus. I began to wonder if I would have a brow left after 437 individual plucks.

So when she asked me if they looked okay, I opened my eyes and through the haze of pain, tears and blurred vision I checked out the little beasts and just said "yes". Because I really thought they were okay and I didn't think I could take just one more pluck.

Then I looked in the mirror a day later and saw the kinda subtle, but odd difference. Kinda funny really, and I decided that a little quirk fits me to a tee. Because, in case you thought otherwise, I am not perfect. Startling revelation, I know.

This flawed body that I reside in, this mind that is forgetful and sometimes does the oddest things (like going out in public with a pair of mid-calf black boots and having one pant leg tucked in, the other left out until my brother-in-law points out this weird fashion choice. I've done this 3 times, now by the way) is just how I am. Not that while on this earth, I don't strive to be as good as I can be, but I can accept that perfection is unattainable in this life. And even with all the mistakes, the goofy missteps, the out-of-sync days, I am always loved by the God who created me.

That's pretty wonderful.

And I can still be the women I was created to be, because I know He's not finished with me yet. Eyebrows or not. And it reminds me of one of my favorite verses in Phillipians 1:6 and it goes like this:

"…being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." 

So thankful that God doesn't give up on this broken, chipped and cracked vessel, but that He keeps on fine-tuning, making me into the woman I am meant to be.

Love,
Dianne

Cold Weather, Cool Thoughts

My breath freezes in the wind, words held in place by the frigid air. 

The thoughts stay in my mind, 

swirling like the snow squalls across the open field. 

The night before, a storm approached. 

It's edges were defined, sharp and cold as steel. 

I didn't want to venture out, but I had no choice. 

 Life is like that sometimes. 

Hard.

Cold. 

Relentless. 

But in all of that, 

all that makes me shiver,

all that makes me cold to my weary bone,

there is beauty too.

I just need to look for it. 

For in that breath that freezes in the air,

there is praise. 

God is who He says He is. 

“He says to the snow, ‘Fall on the earth,’ and to the rain shower, ‘Be a mighty downpour.’” ~Job 37:6

“Out of the south comes the storm, And out of the north the cold. From the breath of God ice is made, And the expanse of the waters is frozen.” ~Job 37:9-10

Pretty cool, huh?

Love,

Dianne

When a Hallmark Moment Leads…Go!

It's all Amy's fault. She started it with her one little comment on Facebook:

"I can only take so much Hallmark……."

The conversation that ensued was delightful; invigorating while sparking something in me that I didn't know was there.  Actually, lack of sleep will do that too, as in everything becomes just a little more silly, a little more random, a little more….well, here's a quote from our conversation, inspired by the endless array of Hallmark Holiday movies:

"... A coffee shop. A widow. Or widower. Perfect snowfalls. Cute, darling children. A lost pet that the gentleman with perfect teeth returns to it's owner who, of course works in the coffee shop (the 2nd of her three jobs) just to pay the rent on her teeny tiny 2 room loft apartment which is over a shoe store where a cobbler mends her shoes just in time to be dressed for the dance at Joe's Crab Shack down by the bay. Where of course Mr. Perfect Teeth likes to go on Thursdays for the all-you-can-eat-crab-legs. But what is this? He has an injury and the lost pet happens to be a rescue dog and as he is drowning his sorrow in ice-tea and crab legs, who should waltz in but Ms 3 Jobs. And it is love."

(Stay tuned. The ending is at the end. The P.S.)


And to think, this random Hallmark moment came after only one cup of caffeine  coffee this evening. Inspired I tell you, inspired.

Or just the ramblings of a tired mind that has been overexposed the last few weeks to the predictable, happily-ever-after story lines that make up November and December on the Hallmark channel. Not that these story's are wrong or harmful to watch, they are just not always reliable pictures of reality.

Reality that says not every ending is happy, and there are children who will go to bed hungry tonight. And let's not forget the mother whose arms ache to hold that which was snatched from her. Or the dad who really has exhausted every resource and now he has to tell his wife and kids that the next step is the street. And what about the reality for many who are facing large college debts, have a degree but no job? Or the one living with regret over harsh words she can never take back?

Okay, Hallmark does have something in that they show stories of people in hard circumstances, overcoming grief and heartache, regaining a positive attitude. They are trying to show uplifting, encouraging moments to touch the hearts of those watching. But, their happy endings are because everything falls into place perfectly. The timing is impeccable, the setting is romantic to the extreme. In real life? Not always so.

I keep thinking of a song, an ancient hymn often sung during Advent as we anticipate the birth of Jesus,  the Saviour that was anticipated to save us all, not from every hurt, every unhappy ending, but to give us hope in eternal life, a different kind of happyly-ever-after. He would be the one to see me through the hard times, walking with me in the midst of the mess. He never promised my life would be a Hallmark movie, but I'll take it.

O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free
Thine own from Satan's tyranny
From depths of Hell Thy people save
And give them victory o'er the grave
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Key of David, come,
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to misery.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

Love,
Dianne

P.S.Mr Perfect Teeth reluctantly returned the dog to Ms 3 jobs. He leaves the Crab Shack, stumbling out the door. The next morning, he hears a strange noise when he wakes up. (No, it's not from what he ate the night before.) He makes his way downstairs and finds, next to a freshly brewed cup of coffee, a note. As it directs him to look outside, he does, and there he sees a puppy. With a Christmas bow. And next to the puppy is Ms 3 Jobs who has decided on a new career of training dogs for service to those in need of a companion to assist. Music cues. They walk towards each other. They pause in the doorway, mistletoe dangles above them….

A Bleak Midwinter's Song

In the bleak mid-winter 

Frosty wind made moan, 

Earth stood hard as iron, 

Water like a stone; 

Snow had fallen, snow on snow, Snow on snow, 

In the bleak mid-winter

 Long ago.

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him 

Nor earth sustain; 

Heaven and earth shall flee away 

 When He comes to reign: 

In the bleak mid-winter a stable-place sufficed 

The Lord God Almighty, / Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, whom cherubim 

 Worship night and day, 

 A breastful of milk and a mangerful of hay; 

Enough for Him, whom angels fall down before, 

The ox and ass and camel which adore.

Angels and archangels may have gathered there, 

 Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air, 

 But only His mother in her maiden bliss, 

 Worshipped the Beloved with a kiss.

What can I give Him, poor as I am? 

 If I were a shepherd  I would bring a lamb, 

 If I were a wise man I would do my part, 

Yet what I can I give Him,  Give my heart.

This Christmas season I noticed this song, one that I am sure I heard before but dismissed in favor of the more well-known Christmas carols and hymns. But this year, I am touched by what it says, by the simplicity, by the sense of hope in the midst of all that is bleak, desolate and empty.

This season brings joy and hope, truly it does. But for so many, it is also a reminder of hurts, of remembering the anniversary of a death too close to a celebrated holiday, or rubbing of a wound, still so fresh and raw that healing hasn't even begun. It is a reminder of what is missing when all is supposed to be coming together.

In this song, I am reminded of a simple truth. Simple and unadorned.

Jesus, God in Heaven, became flesh, a squalling helpless baby boy, so that I can have hope in today, in tomorrow and for eternity.  

All because He loved me before I even was. 

Angels, Cherubim and Seraphim worship Him. Holy beings. 
And yet, I can also worship Him even when I feel like I am worthless and I have nothing to offer. 

My heart. That's all He desires. 

That's what I will give. 

Love,
Dianne

"In the Bleak Midwinter" is a Christmas carol based on a poem by the English poet Christina Rossetti written before 1872 in response to a request from the magazine Scribner's Monthly for a Christmas poem.[1] It was published posthumously in Rossetti's Poetic Works in 1904.

The poem became a Christmas carol after it appeared in The English Hymnal in 1906 with a setting by Gustav Holst. ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/In_the_Bleak_Midwinter )

A Post to Ponder

I've been pondering lately.

Ponder: (according to thefreedictionary.com)

To reflect or consider with thoroughness and care (preferably by a pond according to me).

As I garden, I think about things. About people, about what to make for supper, about my favorite songs, about work, about dreams, about my do-to list, about the stuff of life. I garden, therefore I ponder. 

Sometimes at the end of the day, as dusk descends like a soft blanket, I walk through the yard and the various gardens to review what I've accomplished that day or just to see how my garden grows. I make plans for my next day in the garden. Sometimes Leo walks with me. Just like Adam and Eve we are, except for the lack of clothing part. We've got that covered, literally. 

The other evening, as we meandered through the little woods between the house and fields, we came across an unexpected bloom. 

It looked like a discarded shrub, tossed in the woods without any hope. But yet, there it was, not even planted in any kind of proper fashion, it's roots still molded in the shape of a pot no longer in existence. A laurel, strutting her stuff, alive in spite of whatever anyone else thought. 

I could learn a lot from her. 

On one of these evening walks, we also paused to look at a snowball bush, planted two years ago. Mostly bare sticks, there was this one lonely limb clinging to life. Tenacious, stubborn, determined. 

 I could learn a lot from her. 

Life gets exhausting sometimes. I can let it beat me into the ground until I am nothing but a pile of dry sticks, or I can cling to whatever flicker of joy, whatever spark of hope there is and keep on living the life God gave me.

I can keep my arms crossed, my head down, closed off to everyone and everything around me.
Or, I can spread my arms, fingers outstretched to catch the rain, lifting my face towards the sun, soaking in the warmth as it renews and restores.

As I wander, I ponder and I wonder. The evening stars come out, first just one, then many rivaling the lightning bugs with their twinkles. The moon, nearly full, shines on a landscape now shadowy and dim. Beautiful even though all around it is dark. I could learn a lot from them.

Isaiah 58 has a much to say, much I need to learn, much I need to do. But the promises that are there? So worth it. Take time to read the whole chapter. A challenge. A journey. Something to ponder.


8 Then your light will break forth like the dawn,
    and your healing will quickly appear;
then your righteousness[a] will go before you,
    and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard.
9 Then you will call, and the Lord will answer;
    you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.
“If you do away with the yoke of oppression,
    with the pointing finger and malicious talk,
10 and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry
    and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,
then your light will rise in the darkness,
    and your night will become like the noonday.
11 The Lord will guide you always;
    he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land
    and will strengthen your frame.
You will be like a well-watered garden,
    like a spring whose waters never fail.


Love,
Dianne

The Moments...

Sometimes it is the simple things in life that bring a smile.

...a peanut butter and jelly sandwich
...an unexpected phone call from a friend
...fuzzy PJ bottoms
...slippers
...a cat purring
...coffee
...rich creamer
...chocolate
...baby breath
...seeing a photo from a vacation
...driving in the car with your daughter
...dancing
...a walk in the Springtime
...a walk in the newly fallen snow
...seeing plants push through the soil
...the smell of soil in the Spring
...secret gardens
...the thought of fairies
...clothes that fit
...laughter with sisters
...moss on rocks
...strawberries
...the smell of vanilla
...a spoonful of whipped cream
...padded bicycle seats
...chai tea
...a massage
...Celtic music
...bubbles
...a pink and orange sunset
...a crossed-off to-do list
...finding the missing sock(s)
...finding the missing mitten(s)
...rain boots
...mud puddles
...butterflies and dragonflies
...writing my blog

...and the list could go on. Life is full of little moments with a few big ones thrown in. What am I going to do with the little moments?

I could make a list of all the moments that bring a frown, but why would I want to dwell there? Sometimes, being happy is a willful choice. I have days that I simply do not feel like being happy and it is on those days that I have to make an effort to be thankful, to look for things that bring me joy. Am I always successful? No (ask my kids and Leo, they'll tell you!) Do I have days that I just want to stay in bed and ignore life? Yes.

I guess what I am saying is that I need a reminder as much as anyone, that life is full of ups and downs and that I will have days that I am in a dark valley struggling to get to the other side where there is light. But in the midst of that, there are moments that bring a splash of joy if I would only just look outside of myself.

My today resolution: Look for the moments, and savor them. Store them up to be remembered for  
                                     a dark day. 


Love,
Dianne

Great Expectations

Expectations. To expect something. What does that mean? (And really, the more I say expect and expectations and spell it, the funnier it looks.)

Expect is to look forward (Merriam-Webster). Expectation is to be in the act or state of expecting (Merriam-Webster).

Expectations can be good or bad. Like, what I am expecting work to be like this weekend, or what I am expecting to do on my next vacation. And sometimes what we expect isn't what really happens or occurs when it comes down to it, and often we are disappointed.

Amy is working on a project for the life-sized CandyLand game the youth group is doing tomorrow. She is a fabulous artist with all kinds of talent (I may be her mother, and just a little biased, but she is really good!) and she can come up with drawings/paintings in a matter of hours that amaze me.

So there you have it. My expectations for this project are high because she has set the bar high. Not only are my expectations high, but so are many others who have seen her artwork. And therein lies the problem for Amy.










She is having a hard time coming up with an idea that meets what she thinks the expectations are. She has already scrapped a couple of ideas, even painting over some of what she had already had done. Right now, she is starting over completely, flipping over the board she is working on to come up with something new.

So much concentration...

The first side of the board that she decided not to use...

Okay, so she made this face just for me, but she has looked sad all morning :(

Amy is frustrated by her expectations. She is frustrated by what others are expecting from her. And it is making her unable to enjoy what she normally loves to do.  So, I hugged her and we prayed together because even what seems like small details in life are important to God. 

Then we brainstormed and looked on the internet for ideas and we found something that she thinks will work. Now if she can just keep those expectations under control and just enjoy the process. 

Expectations. Expectations. Expectations. Expectations. 

See what I mean? The more you focus on expectations, the funnier it looks and doesn't make as much sense anymore. Kinda like focusing too much on the real thing. 

And how did the project end? She is still working on it, but it will be at Salisbury School tomorrow for CandyLand (hey, you all can come on over and check it out!). I can tell you that this time around, she is at least looking happy as she works on it.

Love,

Dianne 

Listen to the sound...

Listen to it. Do you hear it?

 It's like snow falling on snow. Or a baby sleeping. Or the sound the sun makes as it slips up over the horizon in the morning. 

Sometimes Sunday evenings, for me, feel restless. Anxious. I think I feel like I need to be doing something, anything to fill the hours. Tonight I felt that way. 

Then my parents stopped in and gave us their Christmas card which made all of us smile for one reason or another. I love their enthusiasm for life. Thanks Mom and Dad! As we visited, they offered to take the kids to gym night with the youth group. They told us to go to sleep. 

Leonard was up all night working in the mine. I was up late watching a movie with Heather. Either way, we were tired. 

So, they all left. And the house was quiet. Completely. Not even my normal music playing. My spirit calmed and I felt peace begin to take over. And instead of fighting it, I allowed it to take over. We slept together, on the couch, with the Christmas lights glowing around us. 

Do you hear it now? The silence. The breath of peaceful rest. 

"...I will refresh the weary and satisfy the faint" At this I awoke and looked around. My sleep had been pleasant to me.    Jeremiah 25-26 

Start the day with God....and a pumpkin spice latte

I am sitting in the kitchen, looking out the window towards the barn, pumpkin spice latte in hand. I see the outline of a cross on the barn door and I am thankful Amy and I took the time to put it there last evening. The sun is shining; it is a beautiful morning. I am wondering how the day will unfold and I am thankful I can start my day with God.

"Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul." Psalm 143:8 NIV


"Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness." Lamentations 3:25 NIV


I hope that I can say that, and believe that, even when my day isn't beautiful. That I can stand strong even when all around me is crashing down.

The day is unfolding. Each minute is new, never lived before, and never to be lived again after it has passed. My prayer is that I will make those minutes matter.

My prayer for you is that you will be blessed today, wherever you are, whatever you are doing.