- I wasn’t sure what to write about today. I post every day, and most days I have no idea what will come out. If you’re reading this, then thank you faithful reader. Some days, when I look at the statistics for whose visited my site, and the numbers are low; I have to think maybe I write this just for me. And if that’s the case, then that’s ok. I feel like putting my thoughts down is something I was led to do. It’s become a daily thing I do, as routine to me as brushing my teeth. Some days I’m a little occupied with the children, and it’s all I can do to say a little bit on here, but I feel like it’s important to do it everyday. It’s something I’ve become dedicated to doing, and I think a little dedication is good for everyone. If ever a word I say helps someone that day, then it has served its purpose. I am writing a book at night, as well, and hopefully God can use it to speak to people. I love when His words can speak life into people, and some days He may can use me to facilitate that. When He does, I feel super blessed.
- I have actually felt super blessed, and at peace all day. This is slightly unusual for me for a Friday. You, faithful reader, know that Fridays make me sad, with thoughts of going to work and missing my babies. Today, for some reason, I haven’t felt that dread that tries to creep up on me by week’s end. I can only explain my calm and contented nature by ascertaining that God is covering me with His grace. I don’t know for sure what He has in mind, but I feel a peace about our future. All day I’ve been able to look around me at the blessings of an everyday life. Something about gratitude and thanksgiving just puts the mind at ease, doesn’t it? Give it a try. Something about being joyful just chases the blues away. I think as I’ve been reflecting back on how God has delivered me, it’s given me a spirit of undeserving yet completely grateful joy.
- When you can see the silver lining of all things, it is always good. When Chloe first started saying da-da, I just couldn’t wait until she said ma-ma. Well, once she got Momma down pat, she never stopped! “Momma hold me. Momma, I want something to eat. Momma play with me.” Ben can be standing right there, but she’ll ask me. She can be in the room with him, but will come find me to get her water. She’s started asking so many questions too! Why, why, why. That’s what she wants to know. Today she asked me “What’s The Milky Way?” She has been asking more and more questions like that, that seem beyond her years. I am sometimes perturbed, as she will ask over and over until you answer, but more than that, I am full of pride and joy. She wants me to do it & she wants to ask me because Momma will know why. I feel like I’m in this magical time in my life. Every day I get to answer questions and watch her eyes as she thinks about my answer. Every day I get to care for their every single need. They rely on me. God has entrusted me with a wonderful and important task of raising His followers. How can that be bad? So, I’m feeling really good today. I can’t see His whole plan, but I can see what He’s put in my hands now. I can feel His peace about my future. I can ruminate of the goodness and perfect joy of a life saved. Mine.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- I get to sit down to my blog now because my children are being adored by older women. The baby is putting on her best show, giving coos and giggles for each ooh and ahh. Today we went to visit my Aunt that I blog of often. She had a visitor in town who so happens to be my oldest living relative left on my Mother’s side. I was eager to visit with this woman who always asked, “How’s little Brie doing?”, per my Aunt. I hadn’t seen Betty Ruth since I was around 10 years old. The interesting thing is that when I saw her today, I thought she looked exactly the same. I remember seeing her as an “old woman” when I was young. Today I saw her as a monument to memories and a lifetime of joyful experiences.
- The baby took to Betty Ruth immediately. She sat in her lap without a single whimper. It wasn’t long before she began to smile at her and explore this new person. Her tiny hand brushed across Betty’s wrinkled face, feeling each striation with wonder and awe. Chloe initially seemed afraid, but thawed to all the compliments and stories. By the end of our visit, she was pushing Betty Ruth in her wheelchair throughout the house and playing with her magnifying glass. We went out to eat. I felt like Chloe acted like a wild child, but when we got back, Betty Ruth commented on how good my children were. At first I thought she was just being nice, but as she repeated, “They’re so beautiful because they’re so good”, I could tell she was sincere. My dryer is still in the repair process, so I brought my dirty laundry along to wash. Betty Ruth offered to fold my clothes. I agreed because I could tell she really wanted to. She sat across from my Aunt and they giggled to each other as they took delight in the tiny outfits they folded. Chloe did acrobatics and ballerina dance moves, calling out, “Look MeeMo and MeeMaw!”
- When I went into my Aunt’s bathroom, I caught sight of a pastel yellow, little duck scrub brush. I remember taking baths at her house when I was maybe 6 six years old, and I used that same duck to scrub my dirty feet. Her house is like that for me. She rarely gets rid of anything, so every nook and cranny is packed with memories for me. When Betty Ruth looked at Chloe, she would smile and say, “She looks like you.” I could tell she was picturing a young version of me from years ago. The entire day was like a walk down memory lane with yesterday meeting today. Betty Ruth smiled at Chloe maneuvering my smart phone like a pro. Chloe marveled at her baking homemade fried apple pies. As I changed the baby’s diaper, she surmised “We’ve all had our butts wiped by somebody else some time in our lives.” I smiled watching them play with my children, knowing memories were being made, but also remembered. On my way home, I passed a retirement apartment building. I saw an elderly women stooped down listening to a 5 year old girl telling her a story. I could tell from the lady’s posture, that she was enjoying the tale. It just served to remind me how precious generational exchanges can be. I am so grateful for family, the memories made, and those still to come.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- We recently had a rather strange and sad incident at the Gowen house. We live on a wooded lot, so birds are a common visitor to our trees and bird houses. I’ve watched two different sets of baby birds in two different locations enter this world, and take flight once big enough. We recently had a fowl family take residence in an unusual place. They built a nest down inside a metal pole. We would watch the mother bird fly in and out of the pipe, delivering food to her babies. As usual, I thought it was really cute hearing their little chirps. There was a crack half way down the pipe, so we were able to see how far down the nest was located, but it wasn’t big enough to give us a glimpse of the little family. I didn’t think much more about it after the initial siting, but Ben brought it up yesterday. He proceeded to tell me that the birds had died, and he could smell them. He hypothesized that the babies, once grown, had been unable to fly up out of the pipe, and thus had met their fate.
- The first comment that stuck with me was when he said, “The Momma was so intent on protecting them, that it ended up killing them.” The mother bird had chosen an isolated place to build her nest, far from any predator. It was so remote, the sun probably didn’t even shine on her hatchlings. They never knew the warmth of sunshine, the refreshing breeze that rides on the wind, or the freedom of spreading your wings and taking flight. Now hang in there with me. I’m not saying that if you protect your children, it will kill them! If that were the case, I’d have been in trouble long ago. But have you considered that if you isolate your child and don’t allow them to spread their wings, you could be hampering their flight? This is as much for me as anyone. I personally battle with putting my kid in a plastic bubble versus giving her a suitcase and sending her to Grandma’s for a month. As I’ve had the opportunity to watch Chloe’s little mind develop, I’ve loosened up a bit. As my first child, I always had a protective, eagle eye out for signs of threat or danger. I didn’t want other kids touching her, and germ-x was always an arm’s length away. As I watched her personality grow, I realized she needed interaction with others. As I watched her immunity grow, I realized she needed those germs and dirt. As I watched her motor development enhance, I realized she needed those scraped knees. As I watched her ability to reason unfold, I knew she needed the experiences she longed for, and even all those questions!
- The second comment Ben made was, “Birds gotta jump off of stuff to learn how to fly.” Betcha know where I’m headed now. You have to let your little bird step to the edge and jump sometimes. I’m in no way suggesting reckless abandonment! I’m not going to let Chloe run out into oncoming traffic so she’ll understand that she can get hit by a car. No. But I’m not going to stay away from big cities with rushing cars in fear of her life. There comes a time when every parent will realize they can’t be there every second, that they can’t prevent every fall. If you try, you will drive yourself crazy, if you don’t fall out from mental, physical, and emotional exhaustion first that is. There comes a time when you have to hand over your child’s life to God and trust Him to keep them safe. For some reason, I looked at Chloe sleeping last night, and realized that one day she’ll be in a romantic relationship and get hurt. I’m not sure where that came from, and why it came to me last night, but it did. I hurt at the thought of her having a broken heart. I chuckled to myself and said, “You’ll have to help me with that one God!” Thankfully, we’re not at that place yet. I have some time. I know that it will come though. I can’t lock her in a tower like Rapunzel. I will have to let her walk to the edge, spread her wings, and take off. Hopefully the sunshine of the Holy Spirit in her life, the refreshing breeze of God’s peace, and the freedom of living in Christ will lift her up on wings like eagles and deliver her safely to solid ground. In the mean time, I’ll continue to intercede on her behalf and give her daily flying lessons as they come.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- Yesterday, as we sat in the parking lot to go into the store together, I saw a friend my husband and I knew as teenagers. I pointed her out to Ben, and made a comment on how thin she was. I’m not sure why women do that, but we do. We will notice nice attributes in another lady, and maybe even compare them to ourselves. It would have been very easy for Ben to ignore my comment about how nice I thought the woman looked. Or he could have even agreed with me about her pretty figure, using the man’s simple and safe phrase “uh huh”. I know full well that he grows tired of my negative opinion I may have of myself, especially after the baby. He could have seen my comment as another stab at my own imagined inadequacies, and in frustration, let it go without comment, or even worse, told me what a moron I am! Instead, he decided to compliment me. He commented on how when we were young, he picked the best girl of us all. He even seemed to be patting himself on the back for making such a good decision. His simple, but extremely sweet compliment hit me just right. I, unbeknownst to him, was having a low self esteem day. (Yes, I’m still working on that). His uplifting words were just what I needed. I have never known a man to make me feel as beautiful as my husband does. He builds me up.
- We recently have been working to switch our Cable TV provider. We’re happy with our service, but it comes down to price. Well, it seems that when a service provider came out to do some work, he backed his large truck into my basketball goal and bent the pole really badly. Accidents happen. It was the fact that he didn’t tell me that bothered me. He came to the door to tell me he was done. I know he had to hear and feel the crash. Anyway, when scheduling an additional appointment, I mentioned the incident to the call center. They had a supervisor call me back. After repeating my story, he offered me a $10 discount. I handed the phone over to Ben. I was thinking that was a ludicrous offer. I was frustrated and wanted to raise my voice to get my feelings of injustice across. I sat there stewing in my indignation, and something happened. I listened as my husband spoke calmly and kindly to the man on the phone. I couldn’t understand at first. That was his basketball goal and he loved that thing! He proceeded to tell the guy, “It’s all about doing what’s right. It bothered us that the driver didn’t say anything. That’s not your fault, but I appreciate that you acknowledge that something was done, and you’re trying to make it right. The $10 discount will be fine.” I sat humbled by my husband’s character. $10 wouldn’t fix or replace our basketball goal, but it’s all about doing the right thing. Sometimes the right thing is showing God’s character to others. He inspires me.
- Today there was a woman’s group from our church that I really wanted to attend. I really miss going to church on Sundays. Our church is small and doesn’t have Wednesday night services. I’ve blogged before how I’ve watched my quiet time and spiritual growth increase since I started missing Sundays! I found myself seeking His face more often during the week when I began to miss Sundays. So while I feel like my relationship with The Lord has grown instead of lacking after starting to work weekends, I do miss the worship and fellowship tremendously. Needless to say, I’ve been excited since they mentioned starting a weekly held women’s group. Since I miss announcements on Sunday, I didn’t realize it was starting today. I didn’t have a sitter or the time to find one. I texted Ben about it, just to share with him as I always do. I didn’t expect him to do anything. Instead of texting back “I’m sorry baby”, he texted back an offer to try and leave work early. Or if he couldn’t leave, he offered for me to bring the two older girls to him. I ended up getting an offer from my Mother-in-law (bless her) to watch the girls. I honestly didn’t know how Ben would have pulled that one off, but his offer touched me. He cares and listens to me enough to know what things are important to me. He also is willing to sacrifice of himself to make those things happen for me. He gives me his all, his 100%, his full devotion to our marriage. I am blessed with such a partner. I love you dear. Thank you.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- Today I had lunch with some old classmates from high school. I didn’t get to spend as much time there as I would have liked. I had an appointment to go to, and two young children in tow, with the two year old in need of a nap. The thing is, though a very short reunion, a great many things were revealed to me. Y’all know I’m a thinker, and my mind is always open to what God may reveal to me through day to day situations. I was invited to this gathering via a social networking outlet. My husband may think my Facebook is silly, but I’m pretty happy about the fact that it allows you to reconnect with people you haven’t seen in a while, or stay connected with people who live far away. I’ll honestly admit first off, that the group I met up with was not my circle of friends in school. I’ll secondly admit, I’m not sure I had a circle of friends. In junior high and high school, I was a cheerleader, so I often made friends with other cheerleaders. I had a very few close friends. I’ve blogged on them before. I was what you might call a misfit, and chose people I felt comfortable around. Sadly, high school can be a time where you are influenced by what others think. Even a misfit will try and fit in, and may inadvertently ridicule others to try and find their place in the social mainframe.
- As a few stories were tossed about at the table today, it became apparent to me that I had missed getting to know these girls really well back then. In turn, they didn’t know me either. Incidents that had a huge impact on my life, were simply poorly recalled stories without definitive facts. This wasn’t their fault. It was simply the nature of the high school machine. Seeing that we never gave each other the opportunity to know each other and our true character at that time, made me a little sad. While I was happy that time and current shared interests had connected us now, I was disappointed that it had taken so long. I reflected on how I had been a people pleaser in the past. I think I yearned to be liked. Throughout my childhood, I had been the new kid, or the weird kid, the sick kid, or the adopted kid. The funny thing is, maybe no one saw me that way. Maybe it was just me. Maybe I just saw me that way. Either way, I think my own feelings of being different, and seeking approval by others, caused me to end up distancing myself from many.
- I really enjoyed meeting up with this group of girls I had only had a faint relationship with in school. I almost didn’t go, to be honest. Once anti-social, always anti-social. Right? Maybe not. I realize I’ve changed, and I like it. I’m not who I used to be. If you are an old acquaintance reading this, I’ll tell you, “You don’t know me.” If you’re an old close friend of mine, I’ll tell you, “Dig deep for the best things you know of my personality and multiply them.” Something strange happens to a person when self-conscious feelings and rejection are banished from your personality. When you don’t love yourself, others will never know you. You’ll be too buried under onion peel layers of self doubt. For me, a relationship with Jesus is what helped me discover my true character. Seeing how God loved me, helped me to love myself. This in turn, taught me how to love others. I wasn’t the girl whose biological father gave her up. I wasn’t the misfit. I wasn’t the girl whose first marriage failed. I was a child of God. I am His beloved. My true character He created could shine. I try now to smile a little sooner, and introduce myself a little easier. I can’t turn back the hands of time for a do over, but I can do my life now the way it needs to be. Thanks for second chances.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- This may sound a little crazy to some. To others, they may completely understand. Here goes. I miss my little baby’s round head. There’s just something about that fuzzy dome that I love. I think about it, and I’m instantly smiling. This morning, around 2 am, my sweet, Charlie Brown headed, baby girl woke up. I nursed her back to sleep easily enough. I started to go put her back in her room, but I changed my mind. Instead I laid down in the bed with her, safely tucked in the crook of my arm. This did two things. First, it meant I wouldn’t really and truly fall back asleep. Secondly, and most importantly, it made Mommy’s heart happy. While it would be a tiny foot kicking me in the stomach that woke me; when I did wake, I could smile down at that adorable, round head.
- Getting to spend a few extra hours with the baby on a work day is especially precious. Even though the majority of the time is spent sleeping, I can still feel the difference. Other mornings when I wake up at alarm time and then go get her to feed her before work, it seems like I’m left wanting more. Those 15 minutes or so that I rock and feed her, go by very quickly. When the time is up, I don’t want to lay her down. I can just leave for work more contentedly, if I’ve had adequate Mommy and baby time. I’m not sure what it is about having a child that makes you want to see them so badly. I’ll be just ticking right along at work, busy as a bee, and then suddenly will think of them and miss them. I think of Bailey’s little, round head, and wide open mouth. I imagine her flapping her arms and making excited grunting sounds when she looks at me. I think of Chloe’s gap toothed grin and beautiful baby blues. I know she’s mine, so I’m partial, but I can’t help but believe that my child is absolutely gorgeous. When will I stop feeling this way? Ever? How can my girls go on dates or get married if their Momma is this attached? Glad I got some time before that.
- I definitely plan on spending some valuable Chloe and Mommy time together tonight after the baby is asleep. I feel kind of bad for yelling at her last night. When I got home from work last night, the sitter began to update me on the day. She asked about where I kept the extra milk. I went to show her and realized it had all been used already. I began to feel bad, like it was my fault I wasn’t producing enough milk to keep a freezer surplus for the baby. As I’m standing at the freezer, and the sitter is still talking, Chloe stands at my feet repeating, over and over, “I want fruit snacks Mommy!” I don’t know why, if it was fatigue from my day, or concern for my lactation, or maybe just because, but I snapped. I yelled down at her (very loudly), “Can’t you be quiet?!!” She immediately started bawling her eyes out. That’s always lemon juice in a paper cut. I apologized. I hugged and wiped tears. I tried to explain my actions. I apologized again. I told her I loved her. Sigh. I hate, hate, hate when I yell at my child. I recently read an article that told me that didn’t make me a bad Mom. Well, that doesn’t make me feel any better. I think of her tears and I’m disappointed in myself. I suppose I’ll just keep trying to do better at that. But there will definitely be books, popcorn, and snuggles tonight, just so she has no doubt how much Mommy loves her.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- My old buddy, Time, must have heard me talking about him yesterday. He apparently felt some of my comments were out of line. That’s the only explanation I can muster for his blatant sabotage this morning. Time knows there are some days we have to abide by its strict limits. A work day is that for me. I’ll admit I’m usually late the rest of the time. “Usually” is a pretty lenient term to describe my tardiness. It would be better suited to be described as “usually, umm, actually, most of the time.” I can’t help it. I will use my young children as my excuse. I will. I will. If you don’t like it, you can come get them and try your hand at getting out the door in a timely manner. But back to the days you got to stick to limits; well that’s work for me. It’s the one place I go, ever, without my children in tow.
- This morning I woke up, an hour before my alarm went off, in excruciating pain. I don’t want to be too graphic, but I’ll just put it out there. It was my boob. There’s this bad word in breastfeeding called a clogged milk duct, and I had it. It’s kind of like a kinked water hose. The water is turned on full blast still, but only a little can escape. This causes a back-up of milk that results in tenderness (strike that, pain, it’s pain) and a red, firm, hot object that doesn’t resemble itself. I spent an especially long time this morning encouraging my baby to nurse, and hopefully clear the duct before I would be forced at work to apply suction to such pain. After that fiasco, I rushed into the shower and prayed that I would be on time. After my shower, I remembered I would need to wash all the bottles and accessories for my breast pump supplies. I intended to do this last night, but spent 7pm-11pm fixing dinner, bathing children, putting on pajamas, reading stories, and rocking two kids to sleep. One of them woke back up just as I was trying to converse with the husband I hadn’t seen since 8 that morning, and required being put down again. By the time all that was done, I ended up just crashing. So I went to wash bottles and make coffee this morning. This was around the time I realized my dryer was still broken and I would not be fluffing up my uniform. I never remove laundry when it’s first done. This means lots of wrinkles. The good thing about most scrub fabrics, though, is that they de-wrinkle nicely in the dryer. I looked at the wad of scrubs that looked like they had slept between the mattress and box spring, and cringed. No fluffing this morning! As I rushed out the door, after pumping what baby hadn’t eaten, and in turn, rewashing bottles and pump accessories, I saw the puppy. Her water was almost empty. No time! I drove past my flower bed I had forgotten to water last night, again! No time! I looked down and saw the gas light flashing. No time! There’s never any traffic, or hardly any, on an early Saturday morning. You already know! This morning there was.
- I know you’re probably on the edge of your seat wondering how I managed. It’s ok friends. You can relax. I made it to work on time. I was one minute later than usual, but I made it. I texted my husband on the way, to tell him about the dog’s water. Don’t worry! I was at a red light. It seems the rain took care of my flowers today. I made it to work with the flashing gas light, even though it vexed me the whole way. (Yes, I prayed it would get me there). I do have an iron and ironing board, and I miraculously knew where to find them, even though I haven’t used them since we moved! Everything got washed. Prayers for the family were still said. Coffee was enjoyed, via a to-go cup. The clog was eventually resolved. Thank you again, prayer (and a little Motrin). For Mr. Time to be so compelled to trip me up this morning, I never cursed him. My resolve and dedication must have impressed him, for he rewarded me by not slowing himself down during my 12 hour shift. He marched right on, and so did I.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- Time is a funny thing. You’ll hear “time flies” or perhaps “time waits for no man!” That’s the way I feel most of the “time.” Especially on a Friday, I’ll feel like “time” has caught up with me. I see the sofa full of clean clothes. I think “that living room is small enough without me turning it into a laundry room!” I will get caught up tending to the baby, or entertaining Chloe, and realize it’s gotten late in the day. There are still chores to do, errands to run, and of course, I still want a little “time” left over at the end to just do nothing. A favorite quote is “time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time.” This week has been full of fun, wasted time. There’s been a lot of playing outside and tons of swimming. Yesterday to expedite our eventual trip out to the pool, Chloe told me, “Momma. Bailey just told me she wants to go swim with Mommy and Chloe.” The kid is learning quick how to use her sister, and Bailey is barely 6 months old. I hate that I fall victim to being a slave of time. I recall the time I spent living in Barbados. The locals never allowed time to control them. They were easy going and relaxed. They got somewhere when they got there. Things got done when they got done. This drove us uptight Americans crazy! I would love to incorporate me some of that Bajan relaxation though.
- There’s another aspect of time that I struggle with. God’s time. I remember as a young girl being angry with God when my relationship with my boyfriend ended. I had felt like that boy was the man for me. Even when I prayed, I felt like God said he was the man for me. This only confused and angered me further. That boy is now my husband. It took over 10 years, but it came to pass as promised. I pray a lot. I don’t just pray before meals or at bedtime or just when someone asks for prayer on Facebook. I pray all day. It’s more of a continuous line of open communication between My Father and I. I revere Him, but I also feel confident to converse with Him. I give thanksgiving. I pray for others. I pray for my family. I pray for my hopes and dreams. I pray for the ministry for Ben and I that I feel God placed in my heart way back in 1997. He gave me dreams then, and gives them to me now.
- The thing is, I fall victim to time control again. I’m sure I’ve blogged on a version of this before, but like any human, it’s something that burdens me so I must deal with it repeatedly while God refines me and works it out. Today I had something frustrate me, and as I stewed over my plight, I felt like God was trying to tell me something. So, I took the cotton out of my ears and listened. One thing that really resounded with me was when He asked, “Are you willing to wait for me?!” I use the exclamation point cause He said it quite forcefully in my head, and I felt the weight of the point He wanted to get across in its fullness. The thing is, He’s never let me down. His promises are perfect and genuine. I may get stuff wrong, misread His signs occasionally, or more frequently, misunderstand His time table, but His character remains steadfast, and His word remains true.
Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end. (NLT) ( Ecclesiastes 3:11 )
His timing has always been perfect. It’s always had my best interests in mind. We humans, especially westernized ones, are always in a hurry, and wanting things done now! I want my laundry folded, dishes done, and milk bought and put in the fridge now! I want my desires fulfilled now! I want my ministry dreams to come to pass now! Then I stop. My ministry? No. My desires? Well, He placed them in me. In all actuality, everything I am, and all I want to be, is because of and for my Lord. Therefore, I think I should trust His timing. The Alpha and Omega can see further than I could fathom. He has planted a beautiful seed in me. I will relinquish control, and allow Him to cultivate my growth, in the perfect season, to bear the most fruit.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- As I sit in front of a picture window, waiting for a storm to blow in, I’m reminded of the phrase “when it rains, it pours.” I’m sure you’re familiar with the phrase. It’s used quite often. I remember it coming out of my own mouth when my Mom died a mere week after my Uncle. When I sat in the car riding through the exact same funeral procession route I had taken a week prior, I uttered, “when it rains, it pours.” There is rarely an occurrence in your life where you feel like you cannot bear the storm, than when a loved one passes. The weight of the dark clouds are like an anvil pressing down on you as sufficiently as an elephant on your chest.
- Today, as the exterminator was in the house making a routine preventative visit, my dryer made a loud popping noise, stopped, and emitted a burnt odor. I sighed in frustration as I removed the wet clothes, and he commented, “You know, it seems like when it rains, it pours!” I agreed with him, and he went about his spraying. I started to go fuss around with it, but decided to give it a minute to cool down, in case it wanted to miraculously resurrect itself when I wasn’t paying attention. Twenty minutes later, it proved to still be broken. I surprised myself by not getting too upset over the situation. Instead of calling Ben at work and voicing my frustration over my 2 wet loads of wash, I texted him calmly. He assured me he could fix it, and I replied, “No problem. The wash is done for the week. I’ll dry them at your Mom’s.” He texted back “thanks” and it made me realize how much he appreciated my calm approach. This happened last week over low finances as well. I’ve always been so high strung in the past, and when I responded so blasΓ© over the bank account, the husband noticed. It’s been a long process, but I tried to trust God more when struggles come before me. I’ve discovered that as I proceed in faith, believing that God is in control of the situation, it ends up working out way better than I could have imagined.
- So back to “when it rains, it pours.” It does seem that way doesn’t it. I don’t know why that it. I’m not going to claim I do. I don’t know why loved ones leave us before we’re ready for them to leave. I don’t know why flat tires, broken dryers, and chipped nails happen. I do know that if you try to look at your storms from a different angle, you’ll end up seeing a rainbow. Rain isn’t just a hassle, like a nuisance that gives us a bad hair day. Rain is life giving, even of it doesn’t seem like it when you’re 500 yards from your car with no umbrella. When you allow Jesus to “rain” his love upon you, and “pour” his blessings into your life, you will find solace in the storm, and rejoice with him when the sun comes. The rainbow is a promise that He will not harm you. It always comes, though, after the rain, as a reminder of His goodness. I would encourage you to run out into the rain, like a child, and hold your arms up in joy, soaking it in. In other words, have a little faith in the rainmaker. And even if the storm is one of the bad ones and seems too much to run into, then hang in there. The rain may seem like it will last all night, but joy comes in the morning.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- I was born in San Diego, CA. I think sun and water were just automatically incorporated into my DNA. I’ve always enjoyed summer, swimming, and even just laying in the sun and feelings its warmth on my skin. When we left the beach life of California, and moved to Mississippi, I held on to my love of warm weather activities. We ended up living across the street from a man made lake. My parents even had a boat at one time, and I used to love making circles of the lake, at high speeds, while the sun reflected off the water and lent me its warmth. My Mom loved it too, and begged my Daddy for a pool. Rather than buying an above ground pool, my Dad did his own thing. On off days, and even after work, he would go out with his shovel and dig. My Dad said he was building us a cement pond, and that he did. It was more than that though. It was indeed a below ground pool of his own making. After he had the squared out hole dug (he said he learned that in the Army), he built a frame and poured cement. He sealed it, painted it blue, and even installed an underground filtration system that poured the clean water out of a waterfall of his creation. It was marvelous. My Mom’s only critique was that he build a fence around it for her babies’ safety.
- With every house I’ve had since I left my parents’ home, I’ve figured out a way to get wet. Even in Maryland where the summers were milder, I would at least buy a little wading pool and lawn chair. When I moved back to Mississippi, I was super excited over the large pool my folks had put out back. I could get a float and a good novel, and stay out there all day. Last year I bought another little wading pool for Chloe, but as the summer wore on, and I got more and more pregnant, it just seemed miserable. I couldn’t even manage the energy to keep the 6 inches of water clean, and Ben didn’t want me lifting it to dump the water. I remember when the summer came to an end, I was so sad for the time I imagined I could have enjoyed out there. I was momentary disillusioned.
- This year I excitedly bought a bit of a larger pool. It’s still small. I’ve got small kids and an even smaller budget, so it has to be. But I was still excited for my plan of a summer paradise in the back yard. I don’t see a vacation happening for us this summer, so a stay-cation sounded like a plan. The thing is, lounging out by the pool takes on a completely different life when you have kids. You can no longer just lay out soaking up rays. Fat chance. Even if by some small chance you are able to have a seat in your lounge chair, you will immediately have a little, wet, cold person in your lap. And strike one for this Mom. Chloe thought the pool was too big. So despite two sets of arm floaties and three float rings, she insists “Mommy swim with me.” This doesn’t mean I can leisurely enjoy the water, floating about with joy. No. This means constantly lifting, swinging around, or holding 30 lbs. Thankfully, it’s much lighter in the water. Thing is, even though the outdoor summer fun is nothing like it was before kids, I’m having a blast. When we’re swimming around in circles pretending we’re mermaids, I’m reminded of my own childhood. When I held both of my babies, wet, in my warm lap, and soothed them as they fell asleep; I felt pure contentment. The breeze blew in and ruffled our hair as the warm sun dried us, and I thought, “Yes. This is indeed summer.”
That is all π
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