Changes

This week has been a reminder that things don't always stay as they should be... Tragedy happens. Young people get sick. Discouraging doctor reports are read.

And change must take place.

After going through a week with other people and their troubles on my mind, I was hit head-on with troubles of my own. I experienced a moment yesterday where other things I have heard people say and other things I have read came to life in a miserable kind of way:

I heard the words, but couldn't wrap my mind around them.

I felt numb.

It felt like they were talking about someone else.

It took a good hour and a half of functioning in the real world just to come home and have a major breakdown in front of the two youngest. Sitting on the hearth of a stone fireplace with the middle beside me and the youngest before me, the reality of the newest change in our life settled in with a resounding thud. 

I spent the rest of the day in-between tears and somewhat in a daze. I prayed, got angry, and walked away. As the sun began to set and reality refused to change, I found myself reaching out to others, determined not to continue to drown in the sea of discouragement. Sleeping soundly, I woke up to the reminder that this new day would not begin like the previous. In fact, no one day would be entirely the same. Challenges are ahead. Pain is sure to lie in wait. My longing to go home will be ever the more stronger.

And yet, for all my anger at the Lord yesterday, His Word never fails. He does not lie. HE does not change. His plan is just simply a whole lot different than mine.

Forget the former things. Do not dwell on the past.

See, I am doing a new thing!

Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?

I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.

Isaiah 43: 18-19

If you believe in prayer, please pray for our family. If you're not a praying person, stick with me and watch what happens. God's about to do a new thing and transform the people I love most.

I have to think that. 

I have to believe it.

It's the only way I can handle change.

Grown Up Babies

Most days I think my blogging days are over. I'm really out of things to say and after all, even the best stories can only be repeated so many times.

But then,

There comes a day when you follow a u-haul trailer across a state line and watch your oldest unpack in what is now his own place. You fight back tears as you hang his clothes in his new closet and place his favorite cereal bowls in his new cabinets and cover his fridge with stuff from your own fridge just so he'll feel at home. You sneak a family picture onto his dresser and watch as his dad gives him a Bible and wonder how in the world a kid can survive on so little in the kitchen cabinets.

So you find the local Wal-Mart and spend one hundred and sixty dollars of what you really can't spend just so he'll have a month's supply of ramen noodles and Totino pizzas. You buy him a broom and soap and a door mat. You think of things like ice cube trays and plastic pitchers and Country Time Lemonade. You put a brand new dish drain on the counter and fold a dish rag over the sink. You hang a curtain over the door window and make mental notes of how many other curtains he will need for the rest of the house.

When the sun sets and you know it's time to leave, you check the locks on his front door a dozen times and walk through each room taking just one more look. You wish you had brought a sleeping bag and a nightgown all the while knowing the next day would be just as hard. You stand on his driveway while his dad shakes his hand, commends him on becoming a man and being on his own, and prays a blessing over his home.

And you let the tears fall.

This whole parenting thing... we raise them up just to watch them leave and wonder where in the world the time went.

I wouldn't trade that time for all the ramen noodles in the world.

Singing With Travis Tritt

Tonight I had the unique pleasure of being sandwiched in a back seat between my two grown sons while the youngest rode shot gun with her daddy behind the wheel. As I sat in the middle trying not to squish my physically fit boys with my not-so-physically fit body, I couldn't help but think of all the years that have gone by. Driving down a curvy road with the windows down, the two up front bickered playfully (?) back and forth about the song selection until they finally settled on a tune. They turned it up and we sang it out and for a moment, all seemed right with the world. As the next song came on, I looked at one boy who can never ride for long without falling asleep, thought about another boy who will be leaving home in a couple of weeks, and couldn't help but notice the smile on a girl's face because she had the front seat.

I'd chalk that up to a great day.

Ode To The Silent People*

Silence is often misunderstood,

 but never misquoted.

I saw this quote on a church marquee today as the youngest and I were driving and thought to myself, "Truer words have never been spoken." I feel like I've been misunderstood most of my life. People often don't quite know how to take someone who is...

QUIET.

So, for all you talkative people, let me fill you in on the quiet people and what we are thinking most of the time,

"While you are busy TALKING just to hear yourself TALK, we are the ones stuck LISTENING wishing you would just SHUT UP."

Yeah. I just wanted to see what it would feel like to put those words to print.

Gotta say, it felt pretty darn good.

All joking aside, however, don't be so quick to knock the quiet people. We're not snobbish or stand-offish or whatever-ish you might try to label us with on any given day. Sometimes, and there really are those times, we would LIKE to say something, but feel like it would be rude to interrupt or turn the attention on ourselves. Sometimes, and there are many a time, we actually do TRY to say something and you run us over with your own words like we didn't even say anything at all and, for the record, there's nothing worse for a quiet person than to finally work up the nerve to say something only to not be heard at all.

But anyway. Quiet people listen. You talking people evidently need that. So really, when you look at it that way, together we make the world go 'round. Besides, sooner or later you always end up asking us what we think...

And for those thirty seconds, we shine. =)



*not the true definition of an ode, I know, but I like how it sounds. 

Yep. It's A Goat.

I don't often post pictures of the young'uns for a variety of obvious reasons, but sometimes a picture says so much more than the so-called thousand words. Especially in the life of teenage daughters.

She is so sweet. So moody. So much like me. And she's growing up way too fast. The clock never stops when you wish it would.

Of the many things in my life that I do not regret, being a stay-at-home mom surviving on one income, hamburger helper, and antenna tv ranks right up there at the top. It's not for everyone, I know, and there were spurts of temp work sprinkled in those years that were necessary for one reason or another. But now that the kids are practically grown and I work full time and suppers at the dinner table are becoming more and more rare, I've come to appreciate- truly appreciate, the laughter.

Which is why I love this picture so much.

To hear my kids laugh is one thing, maybe the very thing, I would miss the most if my sense of hearing ever faded.

The sound of a voice can be comforting.

The song of a bird can be reassuring.

But the sound of laughter?

Pure inspiration.

We really should laugh more.

I Put The Hilarious In The Knock-Knock

Mrs. Angela, tell me a joke to make me laugh.

Tough challenge from a kid giving you a dead-serious glare, but a kid-kinda-challenge is my line of work. I'm up for anything to break up the monotony of a work day.

First attempt.

Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Isaiah.
Isaiah who?
Isaiah (I say a) prayer every morning.

Nothing. Notta. Smile not found.

Second attempt.

Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Banana.
Banana who?

(repeat a gazillion times)

Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Orange.
Orange who?
Orange (like aren't ya) glad I didn't say banana?

Score! Success. Huge smile combined with a you-are-kinda-crazy look.

Ahhh. Just the response I was expecting.

Hey, I'm a big hit when the audience is seven and under. =)

Resurrecting A Dead Horse

Our conversation at dinner earlier tonight went something like this,

I know this ship has sailed and I know I said I would stop saying it, but I'm gonna say it out loud because I'm thinking it anyway and I just want to hear the words, breathlessly said I.

The husband looked at me, the all-knowing look in his eye. He held my hand, took a deep breath, and gave me the green light. Go ahead and say it.

I want to go home.

Now, if you're new to this little blog corner of the world, this might be a new story line for you. If you've been around since the beginning or even midway, it's a concept similar to beating the proverbial dead horse. Even so, the heart wants what the heart wants.

I miss my mom and dad and our little white house. I miss walking to the post office and hanging clothes on the line and cutting fresh lilacs from the bush out back. I miss my old school and my teaching friends and chapel every morning.

Oh, I've accepted the fact that we are where we are and unless it's the mighty hand of God that moves us, we're pretty much anchored where we're at. My dad used the expression often in the beginning, There's another nail in the coffin. I have my own version, There's another hole in the boat. I honestly don't know what keeps us here other than the sheer determination to make something good out of what seems to have been a not-so-good idea.

Well, that and those three kids of ours. I remember three or four years ago when we were seriously considering packing it all in when one of them said, We went through a big move once; please don't do that to us again (emphasis on the please). It's hard to argue with the logic of a child. Besides, I am reminded on a regular basis of a prayer that was prayed almost seven years ago when I stood in a circle of friends on the very last morning before I followed a moving truck south:

This move may have nothing to do with you or [the husband]; it may have everything to do with geographical location and placing your children where they need to be for what God has purposed for their lives...

... or something like that. And if one thing can be said, it is that those kids have thrived. I may not agree with or understand most things in life, but I cannot argue with that. In fact, we have said many times that if it were not for the kids, we would not have held out this long. I guess we figure that we brought 'em into this world,  the least we can do is give them a running start.

Besides, I don't think my old cat could take another move. The last one about did him in. It's no lie to say that he sees a pet carrier and hides. I think I've been traumatized... that's nothing compared to the stress my kitty endured.

And on that note, I'm officially out of anything inspiring to say (not that this was necessarily inspiring to begin with, I know) and I know that I know that I have been blessed with some great friends right where I am. That I would not change for the world. I do get homesick, though, and especially on a Saturday. Again, those who have been around know this. Those who haven't... well, welcome to my world.

I miss my mom.