When he was my first, I saw it. Before there were more … when it might have gone undetected,
I saw it.

We would go to a playgroup and all the children would share and play together,
and James would be “over there.”
I remember the day I first noticed. He was around two years old …
twenty plus full years ago.
The group of ten or so children were swinging and playing on the jungle gym …
that tow head blazing in the sun.
Those pudgy legs were adorned with navy shorts.
He was holding a red “shobel” in that chunky right hand,
squatting so that fanny almost touched the dirt …
while he watched the other children
from a distance.

My oldest … the man/child
and my youngest … the Joy Bucket
have always been this way …
with the social flutter-by butterfly girl, Glory, sandwiched right betwixt …
flitting from place to place … always looking for a hug,
always wanting to be
surrounded by, immersed within, touching people.

We head to the mountains at New Year’s. We are in a cabin filled with people … six portions of families …  a little boy, a tween, multiple teens, many young adults, several adults

and she sits in the corner with her game.
But, she misses nary a word. She soaks it all in … but …. at a safe distance.

And though, we share many traits, I can only know her so well … because, in fact, she is just beginning to forge her way … blazing the trail as she travels an ancient path towards adulthood, a footpath  completely foreign for her … rocky and uneven, misty at dawn, ominous at dark with forks around every other bend … a labor to travel.

I watch Della love on her and know that Joy will be asked questions that make her think. I want her to be challenged … to think.  Della will quiz and question and listen and it will be good and rich and dense conversation …. fleeting as it may appear, there is worth.

And along our jaunt through the conifers and deciduous on a hard-packed path,  Joy comes to me to say, “I love Miss Della.” Me, too, my child. I don’t ask about their conversation. The parts I need to know will be revealed later. But, I am grateful for time investment and put one foot in front of the other pleased.

She is attending an arts based school that is filled with students from all socio-economic, cultural, religious and ethnic backgrounds. Children there are rich and broke, honest and deceptive, Christian and Atheist. They are leaders and followers, grounded and wandering, thinkers and minions.

And she is making her way.

And she is original … unique … distinct.
I can identify.
The life of my blood
courses through her veins.
If all look up, I must look down, under and inside.
It is how I am wired. I want to see
another perspective.
I’ve always been “different.”
When I was a child, my daddy used to ask, “Why do you have to be different?”
I never had an answer for him.
Then I wondered if that was a bad thing.
Today, I know it is good.

She wears the hat of a skateboarder.
She told me some time ago that she wanted to learn to skateboard
because there aren’t many girls that do it. She wants to be different, too.
I don’ think this is something that I have taught her. It just is.

She dreams vivid dreams and must rise with the sun to tell the whole story
from end to end.

She paints her visions into the physical world.

 She hears songs and writes out lyrics.

She plays tunes that bounce inside her head.

There is music all over our home ….

instruments that she wants to master … tunes that she wants to play.

Her room is full of costumes … glasses …. jewelry …. accessories.

She is all over the place
and I understand.

I live scattered wide.
I want …
I N.E.E.D to
write, paint, photograph, cook, serve, bike, paddle, run, camp, create, sew, embroider, read, knit, crochet, stamp, blog, make jewelry, scrapbook, photoshop, latch hook, minister, study, massage, play guitar, violin and dulcimer. I have worn dresses, ground my own wheat for bread, homeschooled my children and grown my hair long. Today, I am a single mom who wants a tattoo, to learn how to shoot a gun and to bike ride across Georgia. I have hair as short as my boyfriend, am working to be able to do 25 pushups and have a (slightly) gauged ear. I am as comfortable in the woods without a bathroom or shower holding a home brew as I am downtown at a schmoozy hotel with a glass of champagne … need I go on?

So, she is struggling. She is pushing the boundaries and trying to establish them for herself.
She is testing and feeling and searching.

She has written on Facebook that she is an Atheist.
My daughter
“does not believe in God.”

I learned a long time ago
to never be surprised
by anyone’s words or actions …
including my own children.

Why should she believe in God?
*quizzically wrinkles brow* Because her mom believes?
Is that reason enough?
She tells me
she prays and does not hear Him.
She asks and does not receive.

I understand. I have prayed those prayers.
I have gone un-answered.
For twenty-five years, I prayed to be the person that my husband needed me to be.
Evidently, that prayer went unanswered. Because my husband left.
God did not show me how to please my husband.
But, I prayed. I begged. I pleaded.
And I believed.
I had faith He would answer me.

Was I mistaken … to have had faith? … to have believed?
I think not.
We are a fallen, broken, messy group of people. We struggle. We wrestle. We flounder.
And we must figure out where we stand. We must decide how we believe.
We must work out our own salvation. (Philippians 2:12)
The God of the entire Universe
certainly is not required to answer my personal prayer
… no matter how right and noble and and just and good it is …
simply because I prayed it.
Nor does He need to answer hers.

She has made friends with other students who are exploring religions of the world. She brought home a Buddha a few weeks ago … a stolen Buddha, none-the-less! He sat on her bedside table for a few days before I asked about him. She said she took him from a friend. I know she’s looking for a reaction. And I offered none … at least not the shocked, offended kind.  She said, “I know you think he’s evil.” I laughed and said, “No, I don’t. What do you know about him? I would say that he was a peace loving man who was moral and wanted to do right. He was not evil. You should do some studying and find out what he believed.” I do not want her to take the word of others … not even mine!  She must own her ideas … in time. It takes time … and work.

Not so long after our Buddha discussion, I mentioned a physical/spiritual parallel in conversation. She said, “There you go again, talking about God. I really don’t want to hear that all the time.” I do not raise my voice or get irritated often, but set her straight quickly with a firm tone. “Let me tell you something; God is as much a part of me as life and breath. You cannot separate the two of us … He flows through me like the blood in my veins. I will respect who you are as an individual and you must do the same for me. I will not be quiet because you do not want to hear what I have to say.”  *deep breath*

I know He is there. He is watching her and listening to her. He knows who she is and who she is becoming. He loves her unconditionally and wants to answer her prayers. But, for now, she must search. She must test and push and decide.

She is intricate. She is difficult. She is prickly.
And she is wonderful, intelligent and inquisitive,
beautiful, talented and spunky,
creative, bright and different.
She is these things because she is made in His image.

Like her brother, she has a personal bubble that is a little larger and a little thicker than many.
Like her brother, she is questioning and listening and watching.
Like me, she is creative and has a different perspective on the world around her.
While there are struggles, I look forward to the future and all that it has to hold.
This girl, she is searching. The process is a difficult one for a mama’s heart to watch,
but it is a must for every strengthening, maturing soul.
And so, she sings and writes,
she pushes and she wonders
and I praise and pray, watch and wait …
for growth … is labor.

With Glory’s Mac in my lap, I thought I’d do a quick Makes Me Happy Monday post … since they are my favorite! *grins*

I love trees. I love leaves. And I love pinecones.
And my favorite jewelry, right now, is adorned with pinecones.

Della and I aren’t really gifty with each other. BUT, when we see something that reminds us of the other, we buy it. So, I bought her a yummy pair of deliciously comfy socks for Christmas …
and she bought me a gorgeous pair of earrings and necklace that match.

Funny thing is … I had a similar pair of earrings marked as a “favorite” on Etsy.

And I just love both of these.

So, the earrings I reach for most often ….
that Make Me Happy on Monday
and every day ….
are these wonderful pinecone earrings that I received as a gift
from one of my best friends.

Thank you, Della, for the gift of your friendship
and of jewelry.
You Make Me Happy …
this Monday morning and always.

How about you, friends?
What Makes You Happy this marvelous Monday morning?

I wasn’t sure I could identify the noise, but it sounded similar to a book hitting the floor. I stepped around the refrigerator to see Joy was leaving the room. I couldn’t see what was in her arms as she had her back to me and was moving into the hall. I said, “Did you drop my laptop?” She said, “No,” and kept walking. I looked around the room and tried to figure out what the sound might have been. I couldn’t easily identify an item on the floor. Maybe a book fell off a table? Maybe something fell over? I searched.

A few minutes later, Joy enters the room and says, “Mom, your laptop isn’t working right.”

Having been home full time for twenty-five years with three little ones underfoot, God has taught me
to be calm.
It’s just stuff and it’s all His ….
and this is His $1,800 Macbook Pro.

My first thought when Joy came out
was disappointment ….
NOT in the fact that my laptop was malfunctioning,
but in the fact that
she quickly, easily, calmly
lied to me
about something H.U.G.E
and kept walking.
Later, she said that she thought that I knew that her tone of voice
was sarcastic. She thought that I had seen her holding it and knew that she had dropped it.
I knew no such.

She’s been working on her science fair project
slowly. It was due today, Wednesday, January 18th. All of her data
was stored on my laptop.
We took the Mac to the Genius Bar at the Apple Store
on Monday afternoon. One of my favorite Genius’ guys, Mercer,  helped me.
He’s so patient, knowledgeable and helpful.
He set me up so that I could access my information and pull it off my computer
to an external hard drive.
I was able to pull off Joy’s science fair data and
begin on my photos.

I kicked myself.
This is not the first time I have been in this position …
something incredibly dear to me – photos – being held hostage
in a place I might not be able to reach.
I know better.
I had not backed up my music
or my photos
in at least a year.
My laptop has almost 9,000 photos and
7,000 songs in its memory.

I stood at the bar talking to Mercer and
felt lightheaded
and nauseous at the same time.
I wondered if I might throw up.
But, I didn’t yell
or cry ….
I wasn’t angry with Joy …
I was just hurt
that she would lie to me so easily.

I have spent two days at the Genius bar. Mercer has helped set me up so that I can slowly, meticulously pull my photos, one album at a time, off my computer. I probably won’t be able to save them all, but I’ve made a dent in them. Most important to me are probably swim team photos and camping shots from this summer. I will continue to go in and work, as long as my computer continues to boot up when turned on. Once I save all that I can, I’ll hand over the machine for repair. Mercer believes it will need a new logic board and hard drive, i.e., completely new guts.

I feel a pressing need to give thanks
today.
I am a richly blessed woman,
this I know.

I give thanks for ….

428. Comedy, who bought me my laptop before he left, that I would have a dependable tool for my “craft”
429. a new camera that takes photos that makes my heart swell, swoon and sway
430. the incredible beauty of God’s creation all around … in beautiful reds, blues and greens, browns, purples and yellows
431. the ability to walk, bend and run without pain
432. three individually, independently gorgeous children that bless my life and fill it with interest
433. the presence of Stone in my life … and all of the complexity that comes along with the blending of families
434. a cat who is not irritating … because, truly, so many cats are!

435. the rich, mellow sound of the cello. The sound of a cello warms my soul.
436. skin that has been more supple this winter than any other before.
437. epson salt for bathing
438. Yardley soap with all its yummy, natural goodness. It soothes my rough edges and helps winters be less painful
439. fresh spinach in omelets, lasagna, salad and, yes, creamed440. WordPress, the host publisher for this blog. I love WordPress
441. the fact that Stone is only 2.5 hours away …. not too far …. but far enough that we continue to walk slowly
442. holiday coffee cups with cornucopias, snowflakes, or hearts
443. green house plants that continue to live and bring oxygen indoors
444. daffodils, bright and happy
445. cold weather
446. the bravery to run even the temps are in the 30′s

447. my parents and their years of patient love
448. creating art with letters. I love typography
449. a calm, uneasily ruffled  spirit
450. the fact that God never gives up on me and His mercies are new every moment
451. the number three. it is my favorite number
452. red, white and blue
453. my Otterbox – it protects my iPhone from life
454.  Goodwill
455. weight loss that has been constant and maintained
456. shadows and light that dance and flicker
457. freedom
458. Glory … who freely loans me her laptop when I need
(and car …. and clothes …. and money …. and anything thing that I ask for …. because she’ just grand that way)

So, for now, I am still without a computer.
And, for now, I continue to give thanks for so much.
Hopefully, I’ll be back next week sometime.

Remember to count your blessings.
{{{{hugs}}}}} to you and yours, friends.

-|<@ren

There it was.
A 5k that I could run …
close by and soon.

I’ve been running (again) since last February.
(Almost a year!! *throws glitter in the air* Yay!!)
I run  ….. almost …..   everyday.
I don’t run fast … or far. But, I move.
In fact, I was pretty confident that my average speed
is around 10.5 to 11 minute miles.
Not fast … but consistent for me
and better than my speed if I spent my mornings sitting on the couch.

I also go to the gym a few days a week. I’m probably in better physical condition than I have been in a long time. I still have weight to lose (two or three 5lb bags of sugar that I carry around my waist), but I am consistently working to improve my physical health. I do not have health insurance and know that caring for my body is incredibly important. I certainly feel better emotionally when I rev up my system each day. Endorphins are our friends!!

So, Saturday morning, I knew I had time
to get ready and head over to the canal for the event.
I already knew my goal: run without stopping.

Because, typically, on the two days a week when I tackle the three mile stretch, I almost.always walk two times. I only walk for a bit. I try to walk no farther than the length of one person’s yard. I’ve been able to work to a point that I walk less and less. Improvement is the weekly focus.

The morning was perfect. We had nice weather with almost a hundred runners participating.

I tried to pace myself. Because I wasn’t on my everyday run course, I wasn’t sure if I would run at my average speed. If I ran too fast, I would  wear myself out before the end of the affair, and thus, not be able to make my goal. I tried to focus on running a comfortable pace – especially for this race. It’s been several years since I’ve run in an event so I knew I wanted to reach my goal: finish without stopping.

The event went well. Even at the half-way point, I was feeling pretty good.

I was able to run the entire 5k miles without stopping at all. I even managed to sprint just a bit at the end. My time was 35.10, which is close to the time I usually spend on the street when I run the three mile loop during the week at my house. I was satisfied … pleased, even!

When I got home, I pulled out my conversion chart. I had forgotten that a 5k is 3.10 miles. I did the division and found that
my time
per mile was 11.32.
*palm to forehead*

Well … my course at home isn’t perfectly mapped. I used the car to try to figure out the distance. And some of the time I walk a small part of my course. I stop my watch then … so it’s not perfectly accurate for timing my pace to the distance. I’m thinking all these things through …  and talking to my Joy Bucket after I worked the conversion
explaining to her that I am quite dismayed ….
when my lip started to quiver.

I was so angry
and disappointed.

I was angry because I have been working so hard
and found that I was less than I thought.
And I was disappointed
because I had believed in my puffed up idea.

Or maybe,

I was disappointed because I have been working so hard
and found that I was less than I thought.
And I was angry
because I had believed in my puffed up idea.

Either way, I teared
and I slung things and slammed cabinets
and Joy didn’t understand.

But, it was more than just about the race
it was about
my heart.

.

.

This was the second reminder from God, of late, that my “I got this” attitude isn’t His desire.
I say with my mouth and think with my head
that I believe with my heart that I am allowing
Him to be the strength 

that directs, enables and equips me.
But, when the truth is exposed
and the exterior is pulled away ….
when the inner workings are revealed,
when the really tough situations arise
my “I got this” set jaw is stronger than my “Lord, help me” cry … every time.
And the crazy thing? I don’t even seem to be aware of the need
to cry “Lord, help me!”

So, maybe that’s the point. I need to LIVE there …
not just cry out when things get tough.  

I want to free fall. I want to jump off the ledge … with both feet.
I want to let go of the tether that holds me to anything
other than Him
and .. J{US}T .. hold onto Him.
But, I’m just not sure that I know how.

So, there ya have it. Me … talking about how God
has once again shown me
that I just don’t cut it.
I’m so thankful that He loves us enough
to never, ever give up.
Praise Him.

Now, if you’ll excuse me
I need to go run. *wink*

until I watched this video.

I’m a creative sort. I am always looking for a new challenge, a new goal, a new friendship, a new perspective, a new experience. Life is so rich and deep and full … I want to experience it in a fresh way every day.

And yet, it never occurred to me that it would be “okay” to desire the same newness from God.

“You are a Creator.
Would you create something new in my worship experience with you?
Would you give me a whole new perspective of you when I worship?”

But, now ….
I request with abandon and expect to see, feel and hear something new
every Sunday in worship ….
every time I open my Bible to read …
every time I explore my day, watching for Spiritual/Physical parallels. 

So, I thought I would share this video with you
in hope that it might encourage you, as well,
to ask for a newness daily …
as you
walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up” (Deuteronomy 11:19)
…. in all that you do daily.

It’s not that I know that every experience will be new ..
there is a great deal to be said for simple obedience.
We are expected
to be in the Word
to seek His face
to obey the promptings of His Holy Spirit.
Some.times
life is monotonous
and we should persevere …
continue on
even when things aren’t exciting.

But
it never hurts to ask *wink*

Many blessings.

but doesn’t currently have a display case that will house them all
so many of  his rocks, minerals, fossils and finds
are tucked away in boxes under his bed.
When he mentioned that he had more rocks than those out on display,
I asked if he would show them to me.
And he did.
One by one, he carefully unwrapped
and told me stories
of where these riches were found,
how they formed
and why they are special.
He referenced back to stories he has shared,
rocks that we had seen earlier in the day
and earlier trips and studies he has experienced.

He told me how a past girl friend told him he was a “geek” or a “dork”
or some other demeaning word
and laughed as
he unwrapped his discoveries and talked.
And I thought how sad … that a passion so deep and rich
could go unappreciated … even mocked.
We all have gifts and passions
and it just seems right that each of us is appreciated
for who we are …
and that others would accept and approve
whether they understand and share the zeal or not.
…. *sigh*   …. Such would be a perfect world, wouldn’t it?

.
So, I listened intently with fascination ….
was amazed
and, of course, asked questions
as Stone told me stories of history and point of origin.
And he even shared a few of his treasures with me …
one that I will return, should our relationship not continue
because the rock is
just
that
beautiful and special.
(A Makes Me Happy Monday post, for sure!!)

I have long been a collector. When I was a teen, we camped often.
We camped on a beach that was littered with shells …
many that are hard to find whole and intact in other places.
I have a Sundial and a Helmet
that are favorites because they were found without blemish and still rich with color.
I still have them today on my shelf of treasures.
(The helmet is the shell on the top in the collage on the right)

Many people have a “Bucket List.” My “Life List,” as I call it, includes things that I would like to find. I would love, for example, to find a meteorite, enough sea glass to fill a small bowl and
a Petroskey stone.

After spending some time yesterday on Pinterest and searching around the web for inspiration of all sorts,
I found myself  searching through the night
as I dreamed
about looking for Petoskey Stones.
These stones are actually some that I marked on my Pinterest account.
They are decorated by an artist, Yoran Morvant,
and look very much like they are Petoskey Stone inspired.
The Petoskey Stone is actually a fossilized coral remnant and is named the State Rock for Michigan. They can be found around the state and are beautiful in their natural state, but are absolutely gorgeous when polished.

When I woke up this morning, I realized that I had actually dreamed about my hat and gloves …. that have a pattern that mimics that of the stone.

Stone and I have begun to share a verbal list of places we would like to go and things we would like to do. Though he is a Geologist and has studied out west, he’s never visited the Grand Canyon. NOTHING would be cooler than to visit the Grand Canyon … with a Geologist! *swoons* THAT trip is definitely on our “List of Places to See!”  I think I am going to begin a journal with a page for each destination and activity, with space for details and a photo of the event when it comes to fruition.  Going to Michigan to find Petoskey Stones will have a page, for sure.

So, in my dreams last night I walked, searched and asked for help from people along the way.
I thought about these gorgeous stones all night …
and now
I’m all the more intent
on beginning a “Life List” journal.

How about you? Do YOU have a Bucket List or a Life List?
Would you share a dream or two?

We had a big enough crowd that we almost finished off the bushel. When morning came, crushed ice lay piled around the cooler on the deck, frozen  and stiff from the frigid night air, having moved nary a bit from melting through the darkness.  Stone was intent on not allowing the three or four dozen oysters that were not consumed go to waste. Before he left town, he sat down with a shucking knife and pried open shells, scooping out the oyster while we chatted.

The warmth of his body and his breath powering down upon the thermometer on his zipper pull gave the false sense that the morning was much warmer than it actually was. The hour he spent outside shucking and then cleaning up the deck and scrubbing the cooler and utensils was greatly appreciated.

His strong work ethic and frugal spirit warm my heart. He is not wasteful. He is quick to offer a helping hand. He does not mind working hard or long.

In fact, while he was visiting, he took a huge slice of time to try to whittle away at a wood pile in our back yard.
He split logs for an hour or two … not at my request, but at his insistence.

I moved split wood from the pile he was creating to the fence line
and prayed thanksgiving … for him
ever aware that his friendship is a gift from God
and continuing to ask God to take him away
if he is a gift that God does not want me to indulge.
I always pray that I … we, in fact, Joy and I,
bless his life multi-dimensionally
and bring a richness and quality of friendship
that he has not experienced.
Oh, that we might be a blessing ….. please, Lord.

Stone is a man of character
with physical strength, fortitude and strength of will.
He blesses me
and he Makes Me Happy.
What makes YOU happy this marvelous Monday morning?