Just What I Needed

After having just returned from an overwhelming experience at a high school open house, peace is a notion that is just out of my reach. What book can I compare this to? I honestly have no idea. The funny thing is my kids are just fine. They maneuvered the halls effortlessly, dodged oncoming pedestrian traffic with a few quick moves, and even pointed out the "bathrooms of choice" due to the availability of actual doors on the stalls. I just keep thinking, "What on earth are we doing here?"

You see, none of this was in my plan. I had everything figured out a long time ago... a home that I loved,  family just a few blocks away, a job that I never thought possible. One stoplight was plenty for me and the convenience of completing all my errands with just a walk around town? Priceless. The kids were thriving in a small, Christian school and their biggest problem (as I can recall) was a missing belt buckle at school. Now it's i-pods being swiped, shoves here and there, and teachers saying things like, "Stuff is gonna get stolen. Get use to it. Get a lock." And I won't even get started on the traffic situation. Good grief. What have we done?

Thankfully, a book has come to mind. For several years I read one chapter in it every day. In fact, when this great adventure that will forever be known as The Move came about, I began the habit of carrying a white handkerchief in my purse. When those overwhelming feelings would threaten to consume me (kinda like tonight), I would raise that white "flag" in surrender and think on that one verse from that one book that will forever be etched on my heart: "Many are the plans that are in a man's mind, but it is the Lord's purpose for him that will stand." Proverbs 19:21

Oh, and here's another one: "What, what would have become of me had I not believed that I would see the Lord's goodness in the land of the living!" Psalm 27:13

Guess I had a book in mind after all.

Giving Love a Good Name

Maybe it's because I've been watching my oldest struggle through the drama called teenage-romance-gone-bad, but lately I've been thinking about my own break-up stories from days gone by. I can remember pretty well how dreary and hopeless life seemed at times, even at the ripe old age of seventeen. All I ever wanted was somebody to love and to love me, and I can recall how I wondered if that day would ever come.

This past week I read a book based on a young man trying to find his own way in the days of Queen Mary's reign following the death of England's King Edward. Two things struck me as worth remembering in this book: first, how the (fictional) parents of the young man in question were portrayed... dedicated to one another and very much in love regardless of the troubles that life presented. Though their son was a source of great grief and worry to them, they never ceased in their support and encouragement to one another. Secondly, Queen Mary herself fascinated me. Granted this was historical fiction and as always such aspects should be considered, but Mary was so desperate to find love that she easily relented to Prince Phillip's desire to rid England of Protestantism. While he saw their union as one of convenience and power in uniting Spain and England, she only saw a man who wanted her and refused to reconcile within herself why those reasons might be. The result earned her the nickname Bloody Mary and for her, true love was never recognized.

Maybe for some love is a game of chance... you may win or lose, or possibly feel like you've never even had a chance to play. I can look back now and see that the worse times in my life (or what I perceived to be the worst) was really just a part of growing up. When I did find that someone to love me, it happened by surprise and was well worth the wait. Of course, I can say that now that those teenage romances are far behind me and I've finally got this love-thing figured out. (Not really). Watching my kids begin their journey, though, is just a reminder of how fragile those feelings are and why no matter what the year or generation is, GNR's "Every Rose Has It's Thorn" is still the best break-up song out there (with Bon Jovi's "You Give Love a Bad Name" a close second).

Enough Already! (Or Maybe Not)

As we approach the third year mark of being in a place that I never wanted to be, I've been thinking about The First Four Years by Laura Ingalls Wilder. Possibly written in the 1940s but not published until around 1971, this short book gives an account of the early years of Laura and Almanzo's marriage. Laura had no intentions of being a farmer's wife when they married in 1885, however due to Almanzo's enthusiasm, she agreed to a trial period of three years. During those three years, they encountered every kind of hardship imaginable: failed crops, unpaid debt, devastating sickness. He did not give up, though, and convinced Laura to give it one more year. During that fourth year, tragedy struck the young family again in the form of a damaging tornado, the loss of a baby boy, and a destructive house fire. You would think Laura would be shouting, "Enough already!" She did not. She had her husband, her girl, and the land she loved. She was content and would live out her days as a farmer's wife.

So.... here we are just two weeks shy of the day we arrived in a strange land. Has it worked out? From this girl's point of view, a resounding NO. Though our problems have been nothing as severe as that which Laura experienced, emotionally we are teetering on the threshold of insanity (okay, maybe not THAT bad). Unlike Laura, I have shouted, "Enough already!" and yet here we remain. I have my husband, my kids, and the front porch I love. What remains to be seen is if I have what it takes to live out my days on the wrong side of the Mighty Mississippi.

Just Turn the Page Already!

I'm in the middle of a rather good book right now... the kind of book I like to call fluff fiction. It's a feel-good sort. The characters are young and lead interesting lives in faraway places like NYC and LA, and it's a sure-fire bet that everything will work out peaches-and-roses by the book's end. However, as I was reading today, I came across a part that I just knew was leading to trouble. I mean, you just can't accept a private meeting with a ruthless woman who just lost her role on Broadway as a leading actress to you and not expect anything good to come out of it. Right? At that point, just as my heroine confirmed she would be at the appointed place and time, I closed the book. Why must these things always happen? I know it's a trap of somekind... some how, some way, that jealous old woman is going to find a way to ruin things for my favorite girl. I just had to close the book and prepare myself for the worst.

Sounds crazy, doesn't it? I have no doubt that by the time this story is finished, my girl will have prevailed over any devious plot that a jealous, vindictive woman might have planned. The very fact that I needed a mental break before I could continue got me wondering about my own life. That whole close-your-eyes-tight-because-you're-afraid-of-what-you-might-see image came to mind. If my life were a book, would I have already closed it due to fear of what the next page might reveal? Do I approach my life the way I approach a book whose plot is making me uncomfortable?

Needless to say, I did open the book up and continued to cautiously read. I still don't know what that meeting was about (although subtle hints lie along the way suggesting not-so-good things), but what I do know is that my heroine has just been offered the job of a lifetime AND has found the potential love of her life... all in just a few short chapters. If I hadn't had the courage to push through those feelings of doubt and gloom, I would have missed all the feel-good stuff that makes me love fiction to begin with. Oh, I'm sure the evil witch will rear her head before it's all said and done, but I think I can handle it knowing the ending will be worth the drama.

As for me and my not-so-fiction life, am I willing to push through and see what the next chapter holds? Life is full of drama without any additional story lines, but something tells me the end result will make the ride worthwhile... if I can keep from putting the book down and hiding my eyes.

What Does Your Bookshelf Say About You?

I was doing some painting in a home today when my eyes were naturally drawn to a bookshelf. Patience was definitely in demand as I waited until the brush I was trimming out the baseboards with took me in that general direction. Once there, I have to admit some time was lost as I tilted my head sideways to check out the titles. Having never met the homeowner, I nonetheless felt like I had encountered an old friend by the time my eyes searched the bottom shelf. Extremely organized, the top two shelves were dedicated to books of a religious sort and motivational titles. What followed below, though, was what got my heart racing. History titles. Civil War themes. A biography on Dolly Madison. If my husband had not been present urging me on with a paint bucket in hand, I do believe I might have dared to pluck a book or two from their perch. My trim work resumed, however, even as I was planning what treasure of my own I might send over for a potential book swap. Can friends be made over what a bookshelf contains? We'll find out tomorrow. 

Just What The Title Says

I read too much. That's a given. Lately I've noticed, though, that in everything I read, it all seems to work out. No matter how bad things may seem, by the time the last page is turned jobs are found, love is rekindled, and finances are on the rebound. So that got me wondering... if my life were a book, wouldn't everything have worked out by now?