I was determined to be productive this week. Five sinks of dishes and a dozen loads of laundry later, I decided that I was.
Many delicious new meals were created in my kitchen during the past 48 hours. We definitely had some 5-star recipes this weekend...which means there will be exciting new things to share with you in upcoming weeks. If you want something great to try though, check out Pioneer Woman's Frito Chili Pie. You can thank me later. (A couple tweaks: she served it in individual packages of Fritos, and we just served it on top of them in a bowl. And I only used one pound of meat, not two. But other than that, it was pretty much identical. )
We pulled out our holiday spirit and went to our city's annual Christmas tree lighting Friday night. We both agreed that it felt like a very small-town thing to do...which was amusing considering this isn't really a small-town kind of place. But the lights were aglow, cookies and milk were out for the taking, the choir sang "Silent Night", and the trumpets played "Do you Hear What I Hear." (Which I found rather amusing, considering it was a brass band and you can't exactly miss it....we all heard what they heard.)
Our Christmas tree is up...all four feet of it. Because we often let our rabbit run around the house, a full size tree is no longer an option, as he would chew it to pieces. We now have a table-top version, which is quaint, but I think it suits us just fine. {Mom bought us the two snowmen in front for our anniversary. Aren't they just adorable?}
Haven't decided yet if I'm going to send out Christmas cards this year or not. More specifically, I completely forgot about them until yesterday, so time might make the decision for me. Do you send store bought cards, or design your own?
I have to go stick the last load of laundry in the dryer and I'm going to call it a day. After I clean up the water that is mysteriously leaking from the bottom of our refrigerator, that is. (And by leaking, I mean pouring.) My weekend of productivity just keeps on trucking.
After months of planning, I have launched my own Etsy site.It's small starting out, but I hope to grow steadily as I have time to perfect each step of the business.
She passed away eight years ago this fall, but today would have been her 97th birthday.
Time has not closed the hole in my heart, left from the place she held.
I catch myself making silent tributes as I go about daily life.
My
little sister wears an outfit of purple, and I think about how much Nan
would have loved it. She wore purple whenever she had the
opportunity.
I shop for flowers at the greenhouse and find myself
gravitating to all the ones she used to plant on her back patio. My
garden is now filled with all her favorites.
Lunchtime
outside on the picnic table and I smile when I realize how much I love
watching the squirrels playing in the yard or running across the top of
the fence. Nan always told stories about the squirrels on her patio and
how she tried to tame them, or she would sit in a chair by our back
window while I was growing up, watching for them to scurry by.
My love for musicals and all things Fred Astaire, Frank
Sinatra, and Gene Kelly are because of her. My love for black &
white TV shows, Barney Fife, great dance scenes, and music from the
roaring 20's can all be blamed on her.
She continues to infiltrate
my life. My childhood memories are all filled with her,
family vacations, holidays, play time, birthdays, and I find myself
wishing often that she was still here, continuing to create memories
with me.
There are physical characteristics that I also have of
hers.... although I usually complain about them... big knees, short
waistedness.... but deep down I'm glad there is a part of me that is
like her, other than my love for french fries and cute shoes.
I was blessed to have her in my life for as long as I did, but I don't think I'll ever stop missing her.
Just in time for Easter which is right around the corner.
We were blessed with an extremely mild winter here in Michigan, but it doesn’t stop the longing in my heart for spring and the warmth it brings.
Temperatures have been in the upper 70’s and low 80’s for the past week, and we are already spoiled by the warmth. Averages this time of year are 30’s and low 40’s. But I’m not delusional, having lived in Michigan long enough to know that we very well could have some massive snow storms between now and the middle of May. So we’re soaking it up while we can, knowing it might only be a tease before the warmth is here to stay.
Tulips and crocus are blooming, trees are budding, and every morning I wake up to birds singing their beautiful melodies through our open windows.
But with all the robins singing in the trees, and the squirrels eating the heads off my daffodils, the arrival of new life draws my mind to Christ, and the new life He brings us. I think of Narnia, where it was “always winter, but never Christmas”, and how they longed for something more. They longed for the hope that came with the arrival of Aslan.
And when Aslan was on the move, spring came. Snow melted, rivers flowed, and the trees began to bud. Aslan brought hope to Narnia, and the world came alive with the anticipation of his arrival.
Good Friday was our winter, and God knew it would be. But He also knew that Sunday was coming, and with that brought the melting away of the darkness and the hope of new life found in the risen Jesus.
Resurrection (Easter) Sunday should be overflowing with the greatest joy we can find within us. It is because of that day that we don’t live where it is always winter, never spring.
Hallelujah!
Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come.
2 Corinthians 5:17 (NASV)
Are you doing anything special during the next couple of weeks to prepare your hearts for this season of new life and the celebration of our Risen Savior?
There is always an extra pair in my car, several pairs in my closet, by the back door, or stashed in my gym bag.I must have a pair accessible at all times.
Some are average pairs, but then there are others that are favorite pairs.
Like these:
They traveled with me on many adventures, through years of wanderings.
Both single, and married.
They traveled on my honeymoon and explored northern Michigan.
They flew across the ocean to Hawaii where they whale-watched, and walked the monuments at Pearl Harbor.
They walked the beaches of Lake Michigan, and streets of Chicago, Illinois.
They rummaged garage sales in local neighborhoods, and grocery shopped hundreds of times.
But they have finally wore out.Done.Kaput.
They have walked their last and were replaced this week.
Replaced by a snazzy pair of cushioned-sole Nike sandals.
I have high hopes, but I doubt they’ll be as good as my $7 pair of rubber Walmart flip-flops.
Do you have a favorite pair of footwear that gets you everywhere?
I slid into a pew at church, next to the old man in the polyester suit. He smiled welcomingly at me, and smelled of peppermints as he greeted me hello. His aging wife sat on his other side, balancing heavily on her cane for support.
The music started, contemporary as always, although louder than usual. The gentleman next to me tried his best to keep up with the songs, and honestly seemed to do a better job than I did. I found my mind wandering a bit, wondering about this couple next to me. They seemed familiar with the church, although I hadn’t seen them before. It is a large place, but there are few older couples there so I thought I would have noticed. It was a pleasant sight just the same.
They sat at rapt attention during the whole message. Then the prayer, and onto the closing song. Usually it is another chorus, or a repeat of one we have sung earlier. Today it was a hymn, written in 1872, and just as poignant as ever.
And the man in the polyester suit?
The voice I heard next to me came as a surprise. This tune might have been a bit faster than when he had first learned it years ago, perhaps as a young boy, but the lyrics were just as timeless. As I heard his voice, I imagined him in a plaid vest and alongside a Barber Shop Quartet. His pitch was dead-on, and his vibrato was lovely. He sang, and slowly swayed, his voice reaching above the sounds of the keyboard, violin, and guitar. I had to wonder if this song had seen him through many trials in his long life, yet in that moment I was glad to just sit back and listen.
I need Thee every hour, most gracious Lord;
No tender voice like Thine can peace afford.
I need Thee every hour, in joy or pain;
Come quickly and abide, or life is vain.
It was as if that song was played just for him that morning.
I want to be more organized yet I get frustrated & overwhelmed when I dwell on my disorganization for too long. I know that if the clutter around me disappears so will some of the clutter in my head, but unfortunately it just doesn’t seem to be that easy.
We have probably all heard the saying “A place for everything and everything in its place!” Well, that’s great in theory… but what if you don’t have the “place for everything” to start with? (Yes, I hear all you super organized woman out there chanting “Purge, purge, purge!”)
I feel like when I get that burst of energy and ambition to start organizing, it usually ends up meaning the mess was simply shuffled to a different area of the house. Don’t get me wrong, I do purge quite a bit – there are always substantial trash & Goodwill piles, but it never seems like enough.
Maybe I’m simply lacking some serious organizational-knowhow.
Take decorative baskets for example. Keep, or toss? I was going to get rid of them, but there have been several times over the past couple years that I have gone to my stash to claim one and have been so glad they’re there. So I keep them…and use them. But where in the world should I store them?
My solution has been a large Rubbermaid tub and it is getting tossed into the basement.
We ripped our CD collection into iTunes but now where do we put all the CD’s? Keep, sell? Oh I know, how about stacking them in a Rubbermaid tub and putting them in the basement!
I scour Pinterest and blogs for ideas on practical organizing (“practical”, meaning for REAL people, who actually LIVE in their house), and I usually come away uninspired. There are times when I literally feel like I could spend a few days on each room of the house before it was cleaned/purged/organized to perfection….but who has that kind of time? Not me.
One step at a time, I know…but where do I begin?
Anybody have secrets to share?
What’s the first thing to do when you tackle full-on room organization?
The house is quiet. A bowl of Chinese take-out is hot and steamy next to me on the desk. Words have been writing themselves in my head for weeks but I just now have the time to put them into order and get them on paper.
The last several weeks have been a journey. And here I am. Happy.Alive. Excited. The light at the end of the tunnel has finally come, and God has brought my safely to the other side. I know why I had to go through the things that I have, but my thankfulness is overflowing as that season passes and He brings me to a new one.
It has been over a month since my last blog post. The absence wasn’t intentional, but so much has happened and my time to spend on the Internet has greatly decreased. I check my email daily and that is about it these days.
On December 12, I posted about discouragement. You can read it here. God knew my heart, the aching of my soul, and that I felt I couldn’t take the strain of my current situation any longer. I was wearing out…emotionally, physically, mentally.
Without airing loads of dirty laundry, let me just say that my work environment for the past several years wasn’t exactly ideal. We were thankful for the job, don’t get me wrong, but the atmosphere that surrounded that job was hostile, to put it mildly. The years I was there brought me extreme anxiety, stress beyond anything I have ever experienced, and the continuous threat of office “explosions” left an ever-present knot in my stomach.
During the first couple of years, my self-esteem and confidence in my abilities took quite a beating, as well as my personal worth. The best way to describe it is to say I felt like a piece of gum that had been chewed up, spit out, and was now stuck to the bottom of somebody’s shoe to be continually walked on. My husband was a constant encouragement, always praying with and for me. He helped me fight the negativity I was continually surrounded with, always pointing me towards Christ. I read, prayed, and cried out to God. I learned to start each day praying as I walked into the office, pleading that no matter what happened I would find my strength and self-worth in Him.
This place had become my personal battleground. Every victory belonged to the Lord, but every day, and often every moment, was a fight. Through it all, I can honestly say that I saw His grace poured out constantly. Big ways, little ways, it was His droplets of grace that brought me through. Over and over I would recite in my head “if God is for me, who can be against me?” He was always enough, but I was wearing thin. There were days that I would come home and cry for hours, truly not knowing if I would have the strength to make it back in the next day.
But God had a plan, and it wasn’t until the end of December that He was finished with having me there. I knew when the time had come, and the right door was opened for me to walk through. He made it clear. But things happened while I was there.
God made me stronger.
God taught me to see the good side of people, no matter who they were.
God helped me to care about the very people that were the cause of my agony. He gave me the strength to pray for them…..when in my own flesh, I certainly wasn’t thinking thoughts of great kindness towards them (yes, this took a while to overcome!!).
God kept me on my knees….trusting…praying…waiting…
God changed me while I was there.
And when He was done with those lessons, He moved me on.
Through circumstances that only God himself could ordain, I was made aware of a local company looking to hire for a position that I was more than qualified for. A friend submitted my resume, and a couple days later an interview was scheduled.
Within five days, I was offered the job, and late that afternoon I turned in my resignation, giving the standard two-week notice. It was a moment I had dreamed of for over two years. It was finally here. The light I had been searching for.
There are days when it’s still hard to believe it’s really true. I’m really somewhere else. No more feeling physically ill on Sunday night, knowing that Monday is only a few hours away. No more coming home in tears, being sleep deprived due to work stress, or constantly having to question the ethics behind what I was being asked to do. No more being surrounded with yelling, cussing, and accusatory people who were shameless trying to climb their way to the top, not caring who they kicked, tripped, or knocked over on their way. It’s over.
I’m free.
I took a week off to rejuvenate myself. I needed to sleep….time to unwind. Detox from where I’d been for so long. Nine days of reprogramming myself. Telling myself that it was all over and I didn’t have to dread tomorrow anymore. No more fighting the desire to simply wish away Monday thru Friday and live for Saturday. Now I could enjoy each day for what it was, what it brought, and what God had in store.
Friday will end the third week at my new job. I thank God every day for this gift. I have yet to find words that accurately describe the extent of my relief, joy, and thankfulness for this new season of life. God’s timing is perfect, and it was a wonderful way to begin a new year.
One Sunday at church we recently sang the song "Never Once” by Matt Redman. My guess is that if we did a raise of hands, several of you would probably know it.
As we were singing, I was struck by these lyrics. They were telling my story…my journey. They were articulating so many of the feelings that I hadn’t quite been able to put into words. There have been scars and struggles on the way, but I’ve been carried by His constant grace and my heart can say that He has been faithful every step of the way. I have never walked alone….He has never left me on my own.
