5-Minute Friday: New

I'm linking up with Gypsy Mama for today's 5-Minute Friday. I haven't done one in forever. I usually either can't always think of something to write that fast, or I'm so involved with whomever's "5-Minute" before me, that I can't come up with something original.

The idea is that Gypsy Mama gives us a word (or two or so), and we start writing, and keep writing for 5 minutes. No pressure, no editing, no backtracking, just a 5-minute stream of consciousness. Here goes...

"New."
GO.

I'm trying to think of something "new." Honestly, I am. Gypsy Mama wrote about the new things her firstborn teaches her every year. She's good at coming up with things like that. But it was her word, so I guess she had more time to think about it than the rest of us.

I just (well, in February) got a new (to me) minivan. I have a new room in my house, empty and ripe for the decorating. I just got new sneakers yesterday (ohsocomfy). I have some new pillows on my couch, and I love them.

But that's all just STUFF. I'm trying to pare down my stuff. It's just stuff! It's starting to drive me crazy, this stuff called Stuff. I have too much stuff. It's worthless in the long run, really.

And so, I'm entering into a new phase in my life of LESS STUFF. And not just stuff-stuff, but body-stuff, house-stuff, life-stuff, brain-stuff. I want to think clearer, live more purposely, exist in sparser surroundings, and pay more attention to my kids. Can't do that surrounded by cluttery Stuff. (I shouldn't even capitalize it like that, that's how insignificant it is.)

So along with my new phase in life of living with less stuff, I'm also experimenting with a new blog. It will reflect this new venture of mine. Wait and see.

STOP.

Guest post!

I'm a Guest Poster! Ooh la la!!! How exciting.

My dear friend Heatherly is on a social media hiatus, and has invited several of us to guest post on her blog. Today is my day!

"In this one particular area in my current life, I have been in and out of the hopeful pool so often that recently I told my husband that I was done being positive. I had no more in me, no more oompf to try again. I was taking up permanent residence on a chaise lounge."

Hop over here and read the rest of my post! I'm so grateful and privileged to write for her!

Self inventory.

It seems every so often you have to take stock of yourself, doesn't it?

I've been thinking about my blog. Just recently, so it hasn't been a real long contemplation. My blog says that I'm writing about the learning I'm doing in life, the way God is molding me into who He wants me to be, and how faithful He is along the way. Good platform. Nothing wrong with that.

But I feel like something's changing.

I don't know what it is. I know one phase of my life is soon to end, and another is soon to begin. Both are exciting. But other parts of my life are just as static as ever, with only God's timing to wait for. I read other people's blogs that are so critically integral to where they are in life, and mine almost doesn't feel that way anymore. I don't feel attached to it. I don't feel like it's about me. Hard to figure out what to write about, though, when you don't know your purpose, your calling.

So I find myself saying, "Okay then. So who am I?" I think I'll be exploring that over the next few days. Not necessarily in the blog, but in my head. These are some of my initial thoughts:

: I know I'm a wife and mom. Those are my callings. My highest callings. Not even writing can supercede either of those. Those are what I must concentrate on. God has given me beautiful gifts, and my focus must - joyfully!!! - be on them.

: I know this last week I have gone crazy trying to accomplish things in the house before hubby gets home. Today was a HUGE leap forward in that area, and I don't feel out of motivation yet. And I haven't felt much mommy-guilt about not hanging out with the kids, so I must've been doing okay! (AND, soon I'll have another room to work with, so it'll give us a little more breathing room.)

: So based on the last one, I know decluttering is huge for me right now. (It's always been a huge desire of mine, but I've been big-time active in it this week.) Paring down, living with less, living simply, passing this lack-of-a-need-of-shtuff on to my kids.

: I know I've actually managed to exercise twice this week, and I feel like continuing it.

: I know that God continues to provide for my family, right in the nick of time, every time. And I know that it usually happens even without me asking for it (I mean that in a shame-on-me way, not a wow-cool way). I know my prayer life downright s.u.c.k.s (sorry if anyone doesn't like that word). And I know that needs to change.

These are some of my thoughts. Things may not change at all in my blog, who knows. But I think I'm starting to grow tired of being a work in progress. I want to start being the progress. I think I'm hiding behind the process. I want to start seeing some results.

Pray with me, muse with me, suggest with me, while I try to figure it out? I'd be so grateful.

Wednesday.

It's Wednesday. Finally.

There's no monumental thing happening on Wednesday, except that it finally means that I'm more than halfway through my hubby's absence. Four more full days until his return. Four. Sigh. That sounds like a lot. Isn't that a lot?

Do I sound like a big whiny crybaby about my hubby being gone? I don't mean to. I'm doing okay. It's just getting harder. It's past the halfway point, but it still feels like I have as long to go as I've already gone. And one of these times when I say to him, "I miss you," and try to explain a little about how long it seems (and I'm getting a little weepy), I'd love it if he could come up with something inspiring to say. (I don't know what. I usually have an idea of what I'd like him to say - which leads to arguments heated discussions about feeling like his life is scripted for him. But this time I don't know what I want him to say. Just something. "I'm so sorry, baby." "I miss you like crazy, too." "I'm barely hanging on here..." You know. Something.)

Although here's my yearly disclaimer -- I am no military wife. I could never be a military wife. You ladies are crazy strong. Although I do think that dealing with your hubby being gone has a great deal to do with knowing roughly how long they'll be gone. If my hubby's supposed to be gone for a weekend, my heart is set up for 2...3 days max. Right now hubby is gone for 9 days. It's too long in my book, but I'll give him the full nine days. (But if he's not back Saturday night, as promised...Sunday morning at best, depending on his traveling party, I might shrivel up.) And, military wives usually live around (not always, but usually at least are involved with) a bunch of other military wives, to whom you can go and fall apart. And they'll come back to you later and return the favor.

Fortunately, my best friend (although in Arkansas...and not really the "fall apart" type) is a former military wife and completely indulges my ramblings and poutings. I'm so thankful for her.

But I am not mocking or belittling military wives in ANY manner. The fact that your husbands are gone for months on end, you get no reprieve as the sole parent in the house, your husbands signed up for the job but would not have chosen to leave their families for so long, and the fact that they're often heading off to harm's way...you all trump me big time. I've got nothing on you and your conditioned nerves. Not that it ever gets easier, I understand.

So...if I stop and think about how long it's been and how long I have yet to go (and how easy it is for bitterness to creep in about what a good time he's having while I'm sitting here waiting, trying to stay busy), utter despair and depression is waiting and ready to jump in and be useful.

SO. I am clinging to the Beautiful Things that are acting as buoys for a few moment's rest as I tread one day to the next. And I'm feeling it necessary to start chronicling these things so I remember all the glorious gifts God's sending my way to care for me, to allure me, to speak tenderly to me. I do notice them as they happen. I need to remember them in the betweens. Here, my first three (so as not to make this post more cumbersome)...

= Yesterday while making dinner, my 7yo skipped into the kitchen, hugged me, and then skipped out. She, completely foreign to having The Love of Your Life away from you for so long. (Although he does act as her first love until she finds her own.) Later that same evening, she came in and sang me a song she learned at church about the countdown getting lower to the day of Jesus' return. How much more straight-from-the-mouth-of-God does it get?

= I had the courage to ask my mother-in-law to feed and watch my children tonight while I venture out to my first-ever exercise class! I've been trying to shred myself this week, and I've had much less discipline than I had about it last year while hubby was gone (it was the first time hubby had been gone that long and I dutifully got up every morning to do my video). I've done the shred a total of once. Since then my boys have not been sleeping well, and I have made the decision not to listen to my alarm clock. But tonight I am leaving the house to do some "Bellyrobics" so I will get at least a second workout in this week.

= What started as an annoyance is actually a blessing - MIL thought they'd just feed the kids chicken nuggets tonight. Tonight, when I actually had coincidentally put a kid-friendly meal on the menu called "bubble-up pizzas." But, feeding them chicken nuggets saves me a meal, a meal that I can then put on next week's menu and save myself the money. :) (Still would've been neat. Wonder what I'll have for dinner...)

Getting my vineyards back.

This day BEGS to be blogged about (I actually did already but it came out all wrong so I'm so glad Jesus stopped me from publishing it). But just what I was going to say I didn't know till everyone went to bed, the house quieted down, I was on my own again...and hubby is off somewhere again. Could it be that I'm starting to think better on my own? Not on-my-own like without him, because he and I are one. To separate now is impossible. To function correctly without the other is a non-issue. But on-my-own...like...as me. I'm ahead of myself...

I spent much of today being sad...and hurt...and angry...and downright pitiful. To the outside? Oh sure, I'm fine, to the in-laws and kids and parents, no sweat. But I know, with hubby, I was trying to find that passive-aggressive delicate balance between "fine" and "underlying struggle," hoping he'd see it and really beg me to tell him what was wrong. Silly girl. Does he ever do that??

I've been feeling like he's been completely gone for the last two weeks, except that every once in a while I get to look at a picture of him, and talk to it, and it even talks back to me. But I don't feel like I've been with my husband in far-too-long.

And I should take every moment and enjoy it, right? Sure, that's what a Wise Woman would do. Clearly, I require more work in that area. Because I, silly girl, spent hubby's first vacation day off lamenting what we weren't getting done, what we weren't going to do, the moments he didn't ask me what was wrong, or how I've been feeling, or tell me how much he's missed me, too, over the last two weeks. (I even missed the last day of Staples' $1 sales. Pout.)

I know why God has been bringing me into this wilderness...these wildernesses (wildernii?) of hubby's event weekends and meeting/rehearsal/Bible study nights away. He wants me to depend on Him. He wants me to go to Him first. Not hubby. Hubby has enough pressure of his own, and the Lord knows that I heap burning coals on his head when I start to complain about him not being around enough for me.

Am I lonely? Yes. Do I feel forgotten? Yes. Unappreciated, left out, un-considered? Yah, sure, you betcha. Are my feelings still valid? OH HECK YES. Will any of my whining and underhanded methods help the situation? Nope. Has God been poking me all day? Uh, yeah.

First, 3 downright lovely - and, not to be left out, 100% RIGHT!!! - communication tools by a downright lovely woman who is in a wilderness of her own, being married to a man with chronic pain that often takes the wind right out of her sails, their marriage, and her soul. This woman has studied how to talk to her husband. And I love her for her journey, and how my story parallels hers (although in a very seemingly pathetic way).

Second, another friend's blog that I JUST found today (coincidence? I think not), where I actually took this "wilderness" terminology from. Her wilderness is a daughter with cystic fibrosis. They find joy because their daughter is alive, and suffer through moments when she's coughing so hard she pukes. How lame am I??? But her latest post included a quote from Hosea (a story I love; you should read it).

"Therefore, behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her. And there I will give her her vineyards and make the Valley of Achor ['trouble'] a door of hope." Hosea 2:14-15 ESV

Wildnerness. Yep, that's a good name for what it's felt like when he's been gone. And...oddly...God has been calling me to these places of ugliness on purpose?? Yes. Called me there, and then spoken tenderly to me. (Really? Maybe I haven't been listening...) Called me there, spoken tenderly to me, trying to give me vineyards (ooh la la!) of sustenance and luxury, and turning my gate of trial and sadness into a gate of hope and joy!

I want a gate of joy. (pout) I want to send hubby off on weekends (or August's terrible week-and-a-half) or to meetings, etc. with joy and contentment. Do I want him to maybe suggest on his own, during some free evening, that he put the kids to bed for me? Or that I go peruse a store or get some coffee on my own, alone with no children? Without me guilting him into it?? OH, yes. But is it possible, just possible, that he's been a little busy, with not a lot of time to think of that? I dig my toe in the dirt and concede. Yeah.....I guess so.

Silly girl needs to start listening to Jesus, and try harder - and pray more - to trust and believe in His love for me. And his love for me.

Mumma needs a minute.

**This entire blog is copyrighted; don't you dare steal my idea.**

This morning, in the bathroom (I admit it), this idea struck me. It's an idea that I have had before and promptly dismissed: I don't write devotions. I can't force a moment of intense meaning and insight. I can pull a lesson out of just about anything, thank you Christian school. But forced spirituality, with no feeling behind the writing, is not my idea of a devotional book. But THIS - this I could write. The idea was one of a little devotional book for tired moms. That's all. I wake up so often and think, "Oh, Jesus. Help me. Today's probably going to get rough. Strength now." I would love to have something, something very small, to read in the morning, to set up the day right, in those moments before the "slings and arrows" start flying (or as close to "before" as I can get), when cohesive thoughts on what to pray for aren't easily found. I have not decided to write a devotional. But the introduction started flowing, so I've written it. Now I will continue to pray about it and see if it sticks.

So now I give you the introduction (a working copy) to...

Mumma Needs A Minute

little morning devotions for tired moms

None of my kids (that I birthed) ever slept through the night solidly 'til they were well over a year old, and currently my youngest is now 2 and we're still working on it. That's a lot of years, sometimes concurrently, of chronic sleep-deprivation, frustration, despair, anger, and depression. At least in the middle of the night. And often first thing in the morning.

I have so often woken up and thought, "Oh dear Jesus...help. I need...something. Strength. Courage. Patience. Adrenaline. Help..." Groups of words don't happen easily in those first few moments. How often I've wished I had something very, very small to read, something to remind me, to center me, to say the words for me that I can't find, but something that will help me pray for what I need that day. I hope this can be that for you. Please know that I am still in the midst of these tired mornings with you.

Very early in the morning, while it was still dark,

Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed.

Mark 1:35

In the morning, O Lord, you hear my voice; 

in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait in expectation.

Psalm 5:3

That's what this little devotion book is for. I believe it's absolutely crucial to start the day at least attempting to ground ourselves in Jesus, before the "slings and arrows" of the day start flying. And boy, do I know they start flying early. Pretty much as soon as your feet hit the floor. And often before that. BUT, I want you to know, I don't believe morning is the ONLY time for devotions to be done. I spent a lot of my life feeling guilty, because I was taught by various examples that this is when devotions should be done. Get up early, cup of coffee, quiet table by the window, reading and being truly uplifted and edified by God's Holy Word. Pretty picture. I've longed for that picture. But my mornings are bleary-eyed and often accompanied by tears, I am so tired. God knows us, He knows the plight of the mother [still trying to find the verse on mothers I'm thinking of], and I can't imagine He's going to fault us for not doing it at 5am sharp (especially when your kids also get up at 5am sharp). You must do devotions when they work for you.

However, this little devotion book CANNOT be a replacement for daily time spent with Jesus. I do understand that you don't get many minutes together to yourself. I do understand that often it's either prayer or reading, but not always both at the same time. And oh-do-I understand the frustration of your schedule just not working out for you to spend focused, uninterrupted time alone. (There's always after the kids go to bed, but unfortunately - and shame on me - I very rarely want to sit and start in on a Bible reading and prayer. I want to finish dishes...okay, "want" is the wrong word...I want to get my stuff done, and most of all, I want to go to bed myself. If I try to start praying, I'll most likely fall asleep. BUT, it is still crucial. Any number of devotional or "how to study the Bible" books can help you with that, but your walk is your own. Don't listen to how anyone else tells you you should do it; do it the way that works for you. If getting up early is your bag, go for it. (I'd like for it to be my bag. Someday...) If a nice quiet meeting with Jesus in the cool of the evening works for you, fantastic. If you have to set your kids up on the computer and the Wii and lock yourself in the bathroom (I'm not kidding), DO IT! Time with God is that important. It is most important. This little devotional will give you the Scripture and a very real, very heartfelt prayer for those early moments when cohesive thoughts can't be formed yet, but true munching on God's Word must be done yourself.

With that said, this book MUST NOT STRESS YOU OUT! There are enough for every day of the year. But there are no numbers. There are no dates. Sometimes I like to have dates on my devotions, so that even if I miss a day I can just jump to today and be okay. I'm not doing that for several reasons. 1) I don't always know what the date is first thing in the morning. 2) If you do miss a day of reading, I do not want any pressure on you about "agh, I missed one, should I read two? what if it's a series of devotions, I won't understand! do I skip it? I don't want to miss anything!!" 3) I don't want to worry about the 30/31 days in a month thing. So - Relax. No pressure here. You can read them in order. You can use a bookmark. You can dog-ear the pages. You can completely disregard any order at all and just open to a page and start reading. And don't be afraid to put your hand up and ask (tell) your kids to wait...Mumma needs a minute. (It'll teach them the importance of spending time with Jesus. Look at that - a teachable moment without even trying. And so early, too! Look at you.)

And they will all apply to being tired. Trust me.

Feel free to leave feedback, but remember I have not made a concrete committment to this project. It's just an idea. Enjoy. :)

Tonight I've met Ann.

Oh...my...goodness...

I love it when God brings me to a person who speaks my heart, but does it so much more beautifully than my words manage to.

"If I lose track of the stories, I’ll lose track of part of me. Lose track of His voice in this life. Telling our stories, keepings traces of His graces, even in a venue such as this, may indeed be important, sacred work, because in these stories, God meets us. We listen to our life and hear God.

And maybe other who listen, hear Him too? Perhaps in sharing our stories, spiritual disciplines of reflecting and telling the truth, even in this public space, others too just groping along might find more of their way?"
~ Ann Voskamp, "A Holy Experience: Of blogging, secrets, porn and truth."

It's worth reading to the end. For those of us who wonder why we do this, wonder if this is really what God wants us to do, wonder if we'll ever make a difference, wonder if anyone cares, if it's going to matter, if it's going to only sound silly... This is why we do this. This is why we write. To remember our holy experiences, to remember our truths from Eden. To remind us that God has spoken to us before, and will again.

Deepest thanks, Ann. (I only wish I could find a comment section on her blog to tell her so. Tell her that it mattered to me.)

This house.

I've always wanted to write a letter to whomever lives in our house after us. We're not moving. I don't know when we will. But WHEN we do (and I do mean when, not if), I hope I get a chance to leave a letter like this. If I don't, at least it'll be written here...

This house has kept us for over 20 years.

Its rooms have been more than flexible, serving in just about every capacity possible: living rooms as bedrooms and offices, bedrooms as kitchens and living rooms, kitchens as offices, offices as bedrooms and nurseries. It even split itself in two several times to hold two entire families at once.

It's seen just about every life change you can think of. It raised sisters from teen-hood to marriage and beyond. It saw parents through unemployment. It welcomed husbands and brought home babies. It sheltered grandparents as they left this world for the heavenly. It's granted safe haven to best friends needing respite. It's hosted holiday meals and open houses, traveling music tour members, post-wedding wrap-ups, surprise baby showers, and graduation parties. It's loosened its belt to welcome in-laws for extended stays.

It's been the concert hall for birdsongs, puppy barking and old dogs' soft breathing, the squeak of hamster wheels, and the rhythmic bubbles of a fish tank (or two or three). It's listened to piano lessons, and never commented on off-notes. It's held its inhabitants safe as their men leave for night shifts. It's waited up for girls coming home late from work or friends.

It's stood strong during hurricanes. It's dried out after days and days (and days) of rain. It's held cool air on hot days, and warm air on frigid days. It's opened up to early morning breezes, let in the rustle of spring and fall leaves, blown in the smell of lilacs and pine needles and woodsmoke, directed moonlight through windows, and nestled down in multiple feet of snow (it even color-coordinated).

And it's stood, and waved, and saluted to hundreds upon hundreds of train conductors - early in the morning, at high noon in the sun, in the soft blue of evening, and in the motionless dark of night. It welcomed their whistles, nodded in understanding, and sent them on by, affirming it is still here...was here for the last...will be here for the next. And this house's people will come running to help, flashlights in hand, when the train needs them.

This house has kept us for over 20 years. It held others for 100 years before us. With God's help and grace, it will keep you, and people after you, for 100 years beyond us. Whatever the world does, we hope this house remains a place of keeping, a place of safety, a place where visitors and weary ones are safe from the craze of life, a place to rest and rejuvenate for wherever their road takes them next. And if they get tired, they're always welcome - have always been welcome - to come back. It'll be here, waiting and ready.

We give you this house, with hearts heavy with memories and full of gratitude that someone else wants to take their turn loving it as much as we have. We know it will keep you as well as it has kept us.

Gifts.

I want to get this book I just heard about: One Thousand Gifts, by Ann Voskamp. Having not read it, I don't know exactly what it will turn out to be about, but I'm pretty sure it's about noticing God's gifts to us in the everyday.

I know that God blesses us constantly, but I fully admit that I don't always see the gifts, blocked by blindness, apathy, self-centeredness, etc. The last couple days, however, since finding out about this book, I've been trying to recognize these gifts more consciously.

I don't know that I'll carry this on, but I wanted to make mention of two that gifts that I was graced with today. (I had three, but I can't remember the third.)

[1] This one requires background info:  I was going to make an actual dinner tonight, an easy one that took about 45-50 minutes to bake. Simple recipe, no big deal. But as life happens, stuff comes up, and it became later than I had wanted it to be when I got it started. My mother in law had called earlier, asking what I had planned for dinner, and offering to treat the three of us (hubby's away on a fencing trip, remember) to Chinese tomorrow night. Then, of course, my 4yo pops up with wanting hot dogs. (sigh) I asked 7yo what she wanted and she said, "French toasted tuna fish sandwiches?" [Note: this is a wacky family recipe from growing up that most people find vile; ask me in a comment if you want it and I'll explain.] This dish, although not hard, is time-consuming. BUT. She had half her tuna sandwich left over from lunch - it was like I saw the plate, and the heavens opened and sent a beam of light shining straight down on that sandwich. Perfect - French toast her sandwich, hot dogs for 4yo, move Chinese to tonight. Thank you, God!!!

[2] (No background info here.) I. just. love. when someone "likes" a comment I make on someone's status on Facebook. You know...someone updates their status, you make a comment, and someone (either the author of the status or someone else) clicks that happy little "like" button. I love when they do that. It's better when they like my status. It tells me that I was able to break through the normal, standard, everyone-saying-the-same-thing comments, and find something unique, something true, something special to the reader. It's best when the status' author does the liking, because it tells me that I got what they said, that I understood, that I connected. It's not a matter of "they liked my comment best"; it's a matter of "yes...I understand...I know what you mean, and you know that I know." (And I feel like a good writer.) Thank you, God!!!

Ooh, I thought of a [3]!! Not the same one, but still just as note-worthy. There's a woman, a friend of mine, I finally realized I'm jealous of. She would disagree, but it appears to me that she has it all together. It feels like she's peaceful, that she's organized, and that - even in her stress or fatigue or chaos! - her life makes sense. Like I said, she'd be the first to disagree. But it BUGS me. And at first I was feeling like she was being fake, like she was putting her persona on display, like she was just trying so hard to have the perfect life and show everyone. But then I thought of a story another friend of mine told during a conference, where she started praying for a woman she was really having trouble getting along with.. She started praying blessings on the head of this woman, here "enemy." Well...my friend is not my enemy, but I am experiencing conflict because of her...and suddenly today I stopped and said, "Lord, give her good things today." You know that peaceful feeling, that settling-in feeling when you know something's being quietly right? Thank you, God!!!

I'll let you know if I end up buying the book (and if I was right about what it's about).

Back to basics.

It's time for some thankfuls. The post-migraine "what a wonderful world" feeling lends itself.

1. I'm thankful, first and foremost, for my kids, who let me sleep another 45 minutes this morning on the couch, covered me with blankets, snuggled with me, watched tv, and got their own cereal so I could let the world stop while my migraine surrendered to my happy migraine medicine. Huzzah!

2. I'm thankful that I didn't feel depressed when I realized again this morning that I forgot to buy laundry detergent on Friday. I haven't totally run out, and school's out so I can go to the store any time I want. No rush. (Yet another thought that echoes my desire to homeschool.)

3. I'm thankful for the tiny prayer that came from my heart saying, "Lord, if it's important, help me remember what I wanted to say until I can get there." I so often think of what I want to say, and then things come up and I can't get there before they disappear. I also often have trouble praying because I can't figure out what I wanted to say. So I'm thankful for this simple, heartfelt prayer.

4. I'm thankful for that post-migraine "what a wonderful world" feeling. I'm thankful for Imitrex.

5. I'm thankful for my feeling, once again (and thankful that it's "once again"), that I have only certain chores that I need to do every day. There are more things that should get done, they are not pre-requisites for living. The other things will get done in their time, and will get done better because I'm not freaking out about them. My husband deserves a more relaxed wife.

6. I'm thankful for my blog, and what it has become (more relaxed, simple thoughts, a lack of urgency to actually reach someone), and for my gorgeous header that I made myself (with lots of help from Wordle), and am so pleased with. I think it looks so professional. And very me.

7. I'm thankful for this passage from the book I'm reading, Just Jane by Nancy Moser, a novel of Jane Austen's life. It goes:

If a bubbling stream forces itself to become a torrent, surely disaster will follow. I am what I am, and though I am still learning this measure and meter of words, I must be true to my nature, and yea, even, my gift. For it is a gift -- from God, if I may be so bold. I say this not to imply great talent, but to indicate my awareness that I have received something beyond my own choosing. Although in essence I realize I can refuse this offering, I also sense that the prudent act, the one that begs to be tinged with sincere gratitude, requires me to do what I can with this gift and offer it back into the void from whence it came. Whether it will prosper and move along, or disappear like morning fog, I do not know. I should not care. For the gift is not truly mine to hold, but mine to use and return. To someone's benefit. I hope.

This is my heart. I am not the best writer. And maybe no one will read it. But such things are not the point. I was given a gift, a desire in my heart to write, so I shall write, whether anyone but God sees it or not. (I tend to talk and write more like Jane Austen when I've been watching or reading her.)

8. I am thankful that, even though my house is in desperate need of attention and picking up, I am not freaking out. It will get done. My kids will help. We will all live to tomorrow.

9. I am thankful for HopefulLeigh's posts about "32 Things To Do Before I'm 32." I often feel boxed in by my kids and my kids' schedule that I never make goals for myself, oh-so-sure that any plans for myself will be thwarted, so why bother. But this summer, I feel more free, and I am blessed with the thought that I might actually be able to do something like that.

10. I am thankful that, every night, I get another chance to go to bed on time.

PS, in #5, those things are 1. time with God, 2. laundry, 3. dishes. The rest is frosting and just moves my house further along to where I want it to ultimately be.