Honestly

       You know, sometimes I feel like a failure.  Sometimes I don't think I'm a good wife.  I often stress about stupid things, things that really will not matter in ten years... or five years or five days.  I have a weak spine and a worrying gene.        There are days when I forget to put away the dinner leftovers and they go bad, days when all I really accomplish is being awake for a few hours.  I often make promises about things I will do and when the day is over I realize not one of those tasks is even started.  There are times when my heart drags to the bottom of my soul, times that I wonder if the light will ever again penetrate the blackness.

       You know, sometimes I feel like a winner.  Sometimes I know I'm a good wife, a beloved daughter, a special sister.  I am able to remain calm in the most adverse situations, I know the small stuff is not worth sweating.  I have a strong will and a tender heart.
       There are days when I know I have accomplished all I need to and I go to sleep quickly and peacefully at night.  I have times when my heart soars in the clouds and my soul sings with joy.

       I have learned that I am an excellent faker.  I show one thing on the outside while feeling a completely different one inside.  While I have my own very strong opinions, I often suppress them until I find if they are common to others.  When my temper boils too hot I can say the most hurtful things, instantly, without thinking it through... and rarely feel remorse until the heat dissipates.  I hold grudges tightly, silent and stealthy.  My heart clings to the familiar and I hate letting anything go.

       When people compliment me on my friendliness and calm demeanor, I laugh a little inside.  If only they could see what I really feel!  Sure, I truly care for people and I do have the ability to calm myself in stressful situations.  I like making people feel special and taking care of the ones who have trouble taking care of themselves.  But when told that I am special and admired for these gifts, I wonder if I should accept the praise?  Should I tell them that I know how to "fake it" really well?  Should I mention that I have tons of practice at making myself look good?  I never do admit these facts aloud.  My fear of rejection halts any honest outburst.

       Maybe someday I will show my true colors.  Perhaps at some point I will no longer care what people think of me and I will simply be myself.  I suppose it's true that you "live and learn", so long as you allow yourself to make the mistakes necessary to learn from.

How Many Kings?

     Christmas.  The time of year when people go all out to give each other stuff, things to show how much they care.  The time of year when we try to cram all the visits together and make sure to give everyone something to let them know how special they are.  The time of year that we celebrate family, love, good food and winter.
     If you are a Christian, this is also the time of year to celebrate the birth of our Lord, Jesus Christ.  The time of year we remember how He came down from Heaven as a humble baby, to walk the earth a regular man, to one day die on the cross so we may be free from the law of sin and have a ticket to Heaven, if we just accept it.
     There is a song that talks about all God gave up for us, for ME... that asks who else has given us what He gave?  Who else but Jesus came down to save?  I have been hearing this song on the radio lately and every single time it overwhelms me with gratitude. 

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How Many Kings

Follow the star to a place unexpected
Would you believe, after all we've projected,
A child in a manger?
Lowly and small, the weakest of all
Unlikeliest hero, wrapped in his mother's shawl -
Just a child -
Is this who we've waited for? 'cause...

How many kings step down from their thrones?
How many lords have abandoned their homes?
How many greats have become the least for me?
And how many gods have poured out their hearts
To romance a world that is torn all apart
How many fathers gave up their sons for me?

Bringing our gifts for the newborn Savior
All that we have, whether costly or meek
Because we believe.
Gold for his honor, and frankincense for his pleasure
And myrrh for the cross he will suffer
Do you believe?
Is this who we've waited for?

All for me...
All for you...

How many kings, stepped down from their thrones?
How many lords have abandoned their homes?
How many greats have become the least for me?
How many Gods have poured out their hearts
To romance a world that has torn all apart?
How many fathers gave up their sons for me?
Only one did that for me

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Only one being has ever done what He did for me, for US.  I am so grateful He did.  I am grateful that He loves us so unconditionally, even when we turn away, when we ignore Him, when we pretend we don't need Him.  I am glad He knows us better than we do.

Searching

Inspiration

wanes
when winter drains

the soul.

The heart that once

was bright and bold

feels haggard

worn

and old.

Curled

away

from the cold

in the light of a fire

one may find

their true heart

once

again.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I have been slacking lately.  Not writing or creating or even reveling.  No joy in small blessings, not even noticing the beauty all around.  My head feels cloudy and my heart is tired.  I hope to find some inspiration soon.  I wish to be a light rather than a shadow.

It's not that I don't have an idea what my problem is.  I know I just need to trust the Lord, to lay it all at His feet and leave it.  Much easier said than done.  I have started praying again, like today on my way home... just praying for my heart to open again.  Without joy I am nothing.  Without love we are hopeless.  Without God we are dust.  He must be my missing piece, I have tried everything else.

Thank God for grace.

Autumn Waning

Winter is coming fast upon us.  The Autumn chill is developing a wintry bite.  Driving home in the twilight is so disheartening.  I am still wishing for the West Coast to do away with daylight savings because when we change our clocks back that one hour our world all of a sudden turns dark.  It's like Winter comes overnight.  How glorious it is in the Spring, when we "gain" an hour of daylight... but is it worth the gloom that comes when we must give that hour back?

I used to swear that I loved the rain, no matter when, where or how cold it was.  The cool droplets brought my soul to life, gave inspiration to my mind and awoke my sleeping heart.  I did not feel safe in the sunlight, did not have the joy to bask in it.  Rain was my solace.  Since those troubled, unsure, growing up years, my heart has changed and grown.  No longer do I dread the light and happiness of others, no more do I pray for the rain.  I enjoy the Summer and basking in the warmth.  When the downpours arrive and darkness comes early, I find myself hoping for just one more day of warmth, just one last weekend of sun.  I cannot wait for Spring.

Sweetness

       I had the worst headache a couple days ago.  It was probably once again related to the tension in my neck and also to my medication dosage.  It was a yucky day, or, as that children's book says, a "Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day"!  I had promised my dear husband the night before that I would clean the kitchen and do laundry since it was my day off, but when I finally rolled myself awake at 11 a.m. I felt like I was run over by a bus and nowhere near capable of doing anything productive.  I lazed about, drinking my coffee, watching television, reading my Agatha Christie book... I thought about just going back to sleep for the afternoon.
       My phone rang at about 3 in the afternoon.  Mom wanted to know if she could come over to see me and visit the kittens.  I said a hesitant yes and told her my head was killing me and I hadn't done a thing all day and I still desperately needed to clean the kitchen because almost every single dish we own was dirty.  Her response was, "Oh!  Let me come clean your kitchen!!"  (I was shocked and felt guilty for even mentioning it, but told her to come over anyway, NOT to clean the kitchen though.)
       My dear Mama arrived a little while later with a gift of spaghetti and sourdough french bread "so I would not have to worry about dinner".  She wanted to start immediately on the kitchen until I told her about the knot in my neck and my headache.  Mom worked the knots and kinks out while we sat in front of the living room fire and talked.  We have not had a good visit like that in a long, long time... if ever.

       After the massage we did clean the kitchen...
                                                                                 together.

       My terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day turned into a sweet day overflowing with love and gratitude.  Thanks to my Mama, the kitchen is not desperate this weekend, my headache has dissipated and is almost gone, and I remember how sweet unconditional love feels.