: because I have this habit of questioning every decision I ever make (my life's calling/ where to live/ how to pray/ crushed or diced tomatoes)
: because living on the surface is only floating
: because the one thing I sense the Lord instructing me to do is to lighten the heck up
: because I want a couple more kids and a front porch and fancy Sunday dinner, every week, and to write books and to wander and to live next door to all my favorite people
: because I want my kids to grow up in the city and the country
: because I can't believe my kids are growing up
: because today is only ten days away from the first day of summer and this is the very best time of year
: because I am homesick and content and anticipating, all at the same time
: because the Cavs
: because more and more I see how lost is the human condition apart from Christ
: because it is possible one day to just give up and to quit dreaming and stop growing and you aren't even dead yet, and I am opening all the windows and brewing strong coffee and buying myself flowers because I want to stay wide awake
Thursday, June 4, 2015
It has been a long while and there is so much water under the bridge. I've been a bit of a muddle anyway, change does that to me, the new job and end of school, house projects, relatives came to visit- we stretched the little house but we did just fine- and this week I have the flu. Ugh. There is nothing I hate more than wasting time, and the first week of June when I want to be digging or planting or wading or a hundred things but lying in bed certainly isn't one of them.
Well then, a daybook:
Outside my window: I am visiting my parents for the day, so my view today is green grass and trees, a hay field being mowed. Green green grass is vibrant this time of year, and watching my kids run in it one of the best views of summer.
Thinking: about our summer routine and how to make summer somehow fresh and interesting even though we are still at home and doing our thing just like every other season.
: about my parenting, always; what do we need to change, what am I not seeing?
: about the idea of writing your own obituary, how do I hope to have lived and what habits do I need to change that I might?
: about how we construct our own existence, we build the house we live in, by our thoughts, and that by the time one reaches old age we are pretty much settled into the house we've built, we don't want to change, our minds have made us; and therefore how important it is that we take every thought captive, that the most basic habits of our minds are rooted in faith, offered to Christ, saturated in love . . . that I would build a life of faith by a lifetime of faithful thinking. (As a man thinketh in his heart so is he. -Pr.23:7)
Thankful: to be a mom to three funny, passionate, creative, smart, strong girls and to get to help nurture who they will become.
Creating: a basic, easy work wardrobe that I don't have to think about.
Hoping: to feel better soon
In the kitchen: not much. Working evenings means I try to have dinner ready before I leave, and I've been keeping things simple; roasted potatoes and seasoned meat in the le creuset, tacos or salad are staples.
Reading: Motivate Your Child by Scott Turansky and Joanne Miller (I got to hear them speak at the Midwest Homeschool Convention)
In the homeschool room: Math, math facts, and cursive. Hooked on Phonics from the library for Josie for the summer.
One of my favorite things: Last night, after several days of feeling like all I do is repeat myself, all day long; the same instructions, all day long, hearing myself say the same correction over and over . . . I asked the girls to tell me something I say to them all the time . . . their answer was I love you.
The job: is good. The best part? Two hours of cleaning a night = two hours for prayer and solitude. Glory. Plenty of over-thinking thoughts on what I'm learning from the job . . . soon.
I find myself in a book jam. I have too many good books started at the same time, and when I have time to read I can't decide which ...
Today the earth is pressed against this wide white emptiness and there is still this gap in me, this hesitation. I've been thinking a...