Bad Birthdays

Every few years, a birthday comes that just simply sucks. No one remembers it. You don't have a cake. Or you get a terrible headache.
For my sweet sixteen, my friends planned a surprise party. I had sort of caught on, but I wasn't sure. I found out about it because my mom kept answering phone calls from people who were asking if it was still on, because of the snow storm. It was a really bad snow storm. we got more than a foot, i think. The party (and everything else in town) was cancelled. I laid in bed and cried, because my birthday was ruined. And really, no one (except my family) did anything to make up for it.
That was my worst birthday ever.
Until my thirtieth. Which was two weeks ago, and I still keep coming back to it, feeling disappointed. Maybe I just expect too much. My mom always makes them special, and she wasn't around, since she was at Mayo with my dad getting ready for his heart surgery. She's off the hook. But anyway, I guess it come sback to expectations, and should a grown woman really think that she shouldn't have to make supper or do anything she doesn't want to one day a year? I'd just spent two weeks with the "holidays" which were busier than usual. And then everyone went back to work, and my birthday was pretty much an afterthought. If a thought at all.
No presents. No cake. Just a bunch of people on facebook who never bother to talk to me any other day of the year saying "Happy Birthday" (and others who do talk with me regularily as well). It's supposed to be a milestone to turn thirty.
It came on a brown warm day in the middle of the week, with a migraine and a depressed feeling all day. I called Daniel at five and asked him to come home, and then I went and laid in bed and tried to make my headache go away. And cried.
I shouldn't complain, because some people did call. Some people did what they'd normally do. My best friend called first thing in the morning. My brother called and sang the stupid "You look like a monkey" song. Later he brought some left over cake he'd made for supper. A cuople of other friends called too, and I don't like talking on the phone a lot, but I like it when people remember I exist once in a while. And my brother and sister in law took me out for lunch. So it wasn't terrible.
It was just... just like any other normal, or slightly bad, day. And in my mind, birthdays aren't supposed to be like that.
But, for all of the bad birthdays, there have been several good ones too. Like my thirteenth, which was probably my favorite. Three of my favorite girlfriends came over. We went and saw Little Women in the theater (which has become one of my favorite movies), and stayed up all night talking. And then we went sledding the next morning.
And my nineteenth, when pretty much all of the people I liked came over to go sledding (yes, there is a theme here. It pretty much always snows by my birthday) and they brought presents, and we came back to the house and had cake.Plus, I'd just gotten engaged so everything that happened that year was great.
I think on my seventh birthday, my friend Stasia stayed the night, and then she had to stay at least one more day, because the whole driveway got iced over and we lived in the country so the drifts were too big. We thought that was pretty great.
And since it seems to be a pattern of prime numbers being great birthdays, I'll just mention, my third birthday was pretty great too. I had a ducky cake, and my grandma came. She gave me a red "Going to Grandma's" suitcase which I still have. I also got from someone, this really cool birthday cake puzzle, which I still have and is still one of the best toys I ever owned.
So they aren't all terrible by any meals. Maybe 31 will be the best yet. I guess I can wait a year and find out.

Winter!

Facebook is abuzz with stupid statuses about the weather. Mostly people wishing it weren't so cold, or trying to sound like they aren't complaining, but they are. It's been a VERY warm winter around here, and these Texas transplants are getting spoiled.
A handful of us are pretty excited about the snow that came in the night. Me being included in that rank. I love it. It brings out the best of me. I love the white haze that comes from the sunlight deflecting through it all. I love the wind making it stay in the air longer and tossing it all over so it looks like a snow globe out the window. I love making footprints and snow angels, and watching the little girls' get rosy cheeks, and pulling them in the sled and living out their wonder. I love mittens and hats and puffy coats and snowpants and boots. And I love being warm inside, watching the white gather around me.
I'm thankful for the warmth here at home (and I will be spending my afternoon taping shrink wrap over the windows, thank you very much 1946), and that I get to be a stay at home mom and enjoy these days with my kids, rather than trudging out into the cold only to go to work. It's great. Everything about today is great. Warm tea and hot chocolate and now the kids are upstairs watching Curious George plays in Snow while I think about cleaning the house.
I don't have anywhere to go today.
And if more days were like today, I would probably be content. Maybe we should move further north. Probably I'd be sick of snow if we lived anywhere but here. I like having tastes of bitter cold Alaska weather, and mostly just enjoying fairly moderate seasons.
SOmetimes I have days like this, when things go so well, and the weather is so right, and I feel this deep sense of gratitude. Like things just couldn't get any better than they are in this moment. And I just have to say "Thank you".

I Blame it on National Geographic

I've had wanderlust lately.
Going three hours away to Rochester doesn't count as a "vacation" or a trip.
we love to travel and see places, but it's gotten a little more complicated with the kids. I love going all over and seeing new things and landmarks and eating at restaurants and staying in hotels. I like camping and being adventurous and meeting people in other states. I'm glad I've gotten to do it a lot in the last ten years. My family never went anywhere except Montana.
Sometimes though, I see pictures of faraway places, or talk with people who have traveled overseas. I hear abou tfoods they tried and the languages, and riding trains and crazy taxi cab drivers and unbelievable scenery, and I feel sort of sad inside. Because I'll never be a world traveler. I've never left this continent. It shouldn't make me sad, because most people really don't travel far from home.
I blame National Geographic.
My grandpa has been a subscriber since the before the 40's. He has shelves of archives, full of beautiful pictures and scenery and people that only the privilidged photographers have seen. We had a gift subscription of NG when I was a kid, and I'd wait for each issue and then I'd devour it. Even before i could read, I would sit and look them through, page by page, wondering what kinds of places the pictures were taken in, what kind of lives those people lived. And I find myself still doing that today.
Wondering. Wishing. Trying to be content in this 800-square-foot box in the "OK" part of town where cooking and cleaning and supervising preschoolers is all I really do.
Hoping for some day when I'll actually see the ocean.

Mayo

I've been up at the Mayo clinic in Minnesota for the last day and a half. Dad had a scheduled heart surgery taking place. He has had a bad valve in one of his arteries for his whole life and it's slowly gotten worse at working. It's sort of a long story, but yesterday was the "Big Day". The surgeon replaced the bad valve and the surgery went well. He's recovering now, and will stay here for a few more days. He's hooked up to electric leads and IV"s and other tubes.
We sat around a lot yesterday. My brothers, my sister-in-law and my cousin Becky. We sat with my mom and waited for news. Waited to get moved to different places around the hsopital. Waited for the all clear. Open heart surgery is a big deal. But it didn't really hit me until afterwards. That was when I realized they'd pried open his chest and sliced his heart and put in a replacement part. It's an amazing thing. It's remarkable.
And if one finger had slipped, if one machine had failed to do its job, if one person had sneezed at the wrong time... the story could have ended differently. I am so very thankful that everything went so well. He's recovering so quickly too. I'm praising God. I'm thanking you all for prayers (if you prayed), and I'm praying that we never have to do anything like that again.
I'm staying the night here again, and my little family will be joining me pretty soon. I like the peace and quiet here now. And i like the Mayo clinic. They're pretty freaking amazing. Makes all of the other hospitals I've been in look podunk and unorganized. which isn't true. But this place is so much cooler.
I guess that's all I have to say on this matter.

My Dad's Heart

Thoughts after seeing my dad fresh from open heart surgery

My Dad’s Heart

He laid alone on the sterile table

Those strong hands that carried me

And tucked me into bed at night

That folded in prayer

And fixed the broken things

now filled with tubes

weakened and tired

His ruddy face yellow and pale

The smile faded into a quiet stare

Those twinkling eyes barely able to open.

They said they fixed his heart

But what they don’t know

Is that heart never needed a thing

Because in all my life

No man has had a better heart

One that holds the Lord in high esteem

And cares about those things so many overlook

That holds more passion in these latter years

Than it did in its youthful days of protests and social turmoil

A heart which beats in its steady way

Leading those around him

Full of life.

And in these days that follow

The surgeon’s knife

It will repair and grow stronger

Never the same

Except for the soul that beats behind

The flesh and bones of mortal energy

Which does not fade or change

As the years go by.

Caucuses

I am planning on going tonight. It's not really like voting. You sit around and discuss with your neighbors and then you raise your hand to cast your vote. I like it like that.Unfortunately, I'm not super sold on any candidate, but why would I ever be super sold on a dude (or chick) who thinks they can fix the world themselves? Just sayin.

From Alice in Wonderland:


`What IS a Caucus-race?' said Alice; not that she wanted much to know, but the Dodo had paused as if it thought that SOMEBODY ought to speak, and no one else seemed inclined to say anything.
`Why,' said the Dodo, `the best way to explain it is to do it.' (And, as you might like to try the thing yourself, some winter day, I will tell you how the Dodo managed it.)
First it marked out a race-course, in a sort of circle, (`the exact shape doesn't matter,' it said,) and then all the party were placed along the course, here and there. There was no `One, two, three, and away,' but they began running when they liked, and left off when they liked, so that it was not easy to know when the race was over. However, when they had been running half an hour or so, and were quite dry again, the Dodo suddenly called out `The race is over!' and they all crowded round it, panting, and asking, `But who has won?'
This question the Dodo could not answer without a great deal of thought, and it sat for a long time with one finger pressed upon its forehead (the position in which you usually see Shakespeare, in the pictures of him), while the rest waited in silence. At last the Dodo said, `EVERYBODY has won, and all must have prizes.'

2011 Bests

I just haven't had a lot of time this year over Christmas break to do things I wanted. (Aside from shopping and I usually hate shopping). I don't have a lot of time right now, but I will attempt to reflect on 2011 briefly, while the kids are napping before we take off for our New Year's party at a friend's house.

What a dumb number 2011 is. Seriously. I've never liked it. It's hard to say and boring to write, and I just don't like it. 2012 will be much more fun.
This year was long, and actually, just like the number itself, it was pretty boring. I did not write a newsletter because I don't think people care to hear about the boringness of the stay-at-home mom life. Thus, I wll not do it here either. If you realy care, I could probably tell you. But, let's move on to more interesting things.

We did travel every other weekend this summer. In May we went on a long vacation driving across the gulf, because I've never been there. Daniel was sick for part of it with food poisining, and we ended up being awake with puking kids for half of the nights. Other than that, it was really fun. We visited relatives in Texas, which was great. I've never spent a lot of time in Texas, but I enjoyed the 90 degree days when Iowa had only been up to 45 at that point.
In June we went to a wedding. In July we went to Montana (amazing, as always). In August my sister got married in Nashville, and in October my brother got married here in town.

I didn't make a lot of time for reading this year, because I found it more interesting and engaging to work on my own writing projects. But I did read a little. Also, I was recently lamenting the fact that we just can't make it out to the movies as often because it involves a babysitter now. But I saw some movies. So, I know you're all dying to know. Here is my list of bests from the year:

Movie Captain America by far. I love that he was a true hero and was willing to sacrifice his life for the good of others. I liked the story line and how it all fit together and didn't leave us with unanswered questions. Mostly I just liked the action and the time period.
Book Excluding comics, I think the best book I read was The Peacemakers by Jack Cavenaugh. That is mostly because I haven't read very many this year, and this made a good story. It's part of a series about a family, book one being about the Pilgrims, and every successive book follows the next generation with a military story. This one took place during the Vietnam war, and told about the son who was fighting over there, and the daughter, who joined the anti-war movement at her California college. I really enjoyed it.
Second place is The Last Song by Nicolas Sparks. And I'm almost ashamed to admit it... I don't usually read best sellers because I have this thing about drones and masses, but I needed something light to read over the summer and I was curious what made everyone like Sparksey so much. It's maybe a little trite story about a teenage summer romance, but I'm sort of a sucker for that kind of thing. I still haven't watched the movie. And I'm probably more of a Nicolas Sparks fan than I would EVER publicly share. So don't tell my secret, OK?

CD Steven Curtis Chapman wins again! We picked up Re:Creation a few months ago, an unplugged album with some of his hits and several new songs. LOVED it. It's sort of like a sequel to the last album, with a hopeful tone and cheerful music to match. I especially like the "Morning Has Broken" rendition he did with his sons.

TV Show Once again, this is not the most current information. We watched Human Target this year, and stupid Fox has cancelled it, so it will just be a two-season slamer. It's about an assassin turned bodyguard who picks up different clients and stays sort of under the radar with his work.
We also started watching The Middle which I think is a really funny show, probably because I relate with the middle-class, midwest family life and how it sort of satirize it by making her and her kids a little more weird and over the top than average. And number 3 is a Canadian show called Hiccups which is about a children's book author who has anger management problems, and her life coach. She is his only client, and he's actually pretty lame at his job. BUt that's what makes it funny. It's a little dry, but I enjoy that kind of humor.It's made by Brent Butt, who wrote Corner gas, another Canadian sit-com. Why do I like Canadian TV? Pathetic.

Bible Verse It's sort of hard to narrow it down to one verse. My small group went through a book on Acts earlier this year. Right as we started it, the pastor at church started a series that just finished. Then, half way through the year, my Bible study group began their intense look at the book. I guess maybe God wanted me to learn something from the book of Acts. And it's been amazing to see it in a new light. Acts 8:27-40 tells a story about Philip and this Ehtiopian Eunich. Philip is seeing amazing things happen in Jeruseleam with his friends, and all of a sudden God says "Go take this desert road away from here". So he does, and leaves all of the action where it is and walks into the middle of nothing. But there's a man in a chariot reading the scriptures, and when Philip sees what he's reading, he asks him, "Do you know what this means?" And the eunich says "how am I supposed to know this if there's no one to explain it?" So Philip rides with him and tells him all about Jesus.
I like the account, because it reminds me that 1) God doesn't always want us in the middle of action where great things are happening 2) Sometimes the place God wants me to be is in the middle of the desert with one single person, walking with them and showing them what God's word means 3) God cares about individuals, enough to send a single man out of his way to share with one single man.



I could write more, but I think I need to go and be productive. we have to wrap presents for the other side of the family today because tomorrow will be "Christmas" with the whole clan! Happy New Year. I hope your year is full of good things, of godly influiences, and glimpses of Him and His glory!

k

We are Who We Are

We finished (survived) Christmas with my family. It was actually really fun. We've been hanging around, playing games and watching lots of movies. We go home at night with the kids and come back when we please, which has worked out pretty darn well this time around. It's nice to be able to get away. Because I love them, but sometimes... the bickering gets a little crazy.
There's this underlying amount of stress in my family right now. My dad's going to have heart surgery next week and it's kind of a big deal. So I think that everyone's a little bothered by that. And, we never all get along really great, because we're siblings and that's how it goes.
This year my brother and sister had spouses to help keep them in line, which was great. But sometimes I wonder what those new people think of our family. It's different for Daniel, because he's basically been around forever. My sister was like seven when he first met me, so he's watched them all grow up. And he was a teenager himself when he started hanging around.
These new in-laws haven't been around us very much. And I wonder if they're a little uneasy with all of the bickering and craziness that comes with all of us being together. I know they have families that have their own things. But the thing about my family is you know what's going on with relationships and feelings. You almost always do. Because we say what we feel. We show what we're thinking. Most of the time. We just are who we are with each other. And a lot of times that ends up being something everyone gets to see. I guess that's what makes a family what it is.
So hopefully no one got scared away this year. i for one enjoyed all of us being together and playing games and eating. And I can't wait until next time.

Traditions

[Disclaimer: This post probably sounds pompus. I do not mean for it to. And I have no problem with people doing their own traditions, whatever they might be. so don't take this the wrong way. It's just about me and my preferences and opinions. And we all know I'm overly opinionated. Please don't be offended!]

There's always a lot of talk about traditions at this time of year. I'm just going to come out with it and say I don't like them.

I do sort of feel like a bad mom when people share these special meaningful things they do at Christmastime, because I don't do a lot of them. My family didn't do a lot of traditions, and I can't actually think of something we did every year, execept for getting a tree and decorating it. Otherwise it was always something different. And I'm OK with it.Realizing that many people hold traditions dearly, I can't really push my opinions off on people. but I've held this in all month, so I just have to get it off my chest. Don't feel like I'm attacking. This is just my personal preference. And honestly, it doesn't even always go the way I want to in this family, because i have a husband who thinks traditions are just IT.

Here's a list of things I don't want to become traditions for us:

1) Caroling. Humiliating.
2) Baking cookies. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn't, that's what the store is for.
3) Sitting around the Christmastree and reading the Christmas story. I think the kids ought to hear it before Christmas, or else it's too late to distract them from all of the presents.
4) Decorations. I like decorating, but I'm just as happy not to. And I'm OK with switching them out all the time.
5) Presents. I think that we might have some years where we don't do the classic shop around for Christmas and make lists and things. Some year maybe we'll just go on a trip together, or maybe we'll make all of our presents. Or maybe we'll only give presents away and not get any. I don't feel like it's essential to celebrating.
6) Family newsletter. Let's be honest. Sometimes, there just isn't anything interesting to share.
7) Music. AUUUUGH. If you know me much, you know I'm just not a fan of the same old songs that get sung every year. Certain carols, I don't mind hearing once or twice or singing in church. But. I do not want to hear yet another rendition of the SAME song.
8) Birthday party for Jesus. Not to be a jerk or downplay what other families do. We don't call it a birthday because to me it seems trivial. We haven't quite hashed that all out, but I don't like the phrase "birthday". Because Jesus existed in all of eternity. His coming to earth, becoming a person, wasn't so small as a birthday. The entire universe hinged on that moment in time when Jesus became a man. For kids a birthday is sort of an egocentric day in which they're spoiled and get everything they want. Jesus's coming was the opposite. He gave up all of the things that He had and came into the world in a barn with animals. I don't want my kids to mistake His sacrifice for a party. And maybe kids don't understand all of the theology completely, but I think that they get more than we give them credit for.

Now here are some things that I DO want to be part of every Christmas.

1) Snow. (even though I don't get a lot of say in this).
2) Family. Because I love them.
3) lights. I enjoy looking at tacky Christmas lights displayed in town. It's sort of fun. Right now the kids love it too.
4) Music. I'm talking the good kind. Real music. New words, new melodies, timeless truths put to art.
5) Giving. There are so many opportunities that only come at Christmastime. So we take advantage of them.
6) Jesus. Even though we aren't going to make a birthday cake or hide the baby Jesus from the manger scene or open a present for him or anything like that, I want to take time to remember, to reflect on what it means that God became a man. That now he relates with us and understands temptation and fear and pain and suffering. I want to focus on "Immanuel" every year and what "God with us" truly means.He's the reason the angels said "Peace on Earth, Good will to everyone!"

So. That's that. What traditions do you love to do? What ones do you hate? (Hopefully you don't hate me now for undoing traditions!)

The Weight of the [Lesser] World

Some days I end the night with a heavy weight resting on me, knowing that I can't save the universe. That I can't even start. It bothers me and it irritates me and occasionally motivates me to action. But what bothers me the most is that most of the time, I just don't think about all of the broken people. I don't hurt for them much and I try my best not to think about it.
Tonight we went on a little hike down to a nearby town to deliver gifts to the family of an incracarated father through the Angel Tree program.
I hurt. They lived in a little trailer in the middle of nothing. Everything was run down and tired-looking, even their little white Christmas tree with an angel on top who was heavier than the whole tree.
There were four boys there with sad solemn faces who didn't talk a whole lot. And a mom who did talk a whole lot. And I got the feeling she appreciated the hand-out.
I didn't do a good job at listening to the Holy Spirit. I should have said more than I did. And now I'm thinking back, seeing all of the opportunities I missed to just say what I believe is the only way to really change their circumstances. They needed to know about Jesus. I think they wanted to know about Jesus. And I think they will find more out. But I wish I'd just said more.
I hope that they come to church for Christmas like we invited them to. I hope that I can find a church that is close enough for them to want to go to.
But i hope that next time, I say more than I did.
Because the world is so dark and broken and tired, like their little house. And the light that we have should be brighter than just some presents at Christmas.

Writing

More boring stuff about my writing.
I started a series back in May. I wasn't planning for it to be one, but I couldn't just leave it where it ended. I never can. I seriously never can.
Anyway. It started as a dream I had, and then I just went to work writing it. It turned out to be a pretty cool story.
The next one I started about two months ago. It's actually a spin-off because the main character from the first one becomes the new main character's roommate in the second one. So we still get to be updated about her life, but the story's about the roommate this time.
I really love it.
I loved the first one and I wrote it all in record time. This one was a little more of a labor of love, but I still wrote it pretty quickly. And I really really like how it turned out. It'll need editing. Lots of editing. But it's a story about an artist in Chicago, and I guess it just turned out even better than I thought it would. It went nothing like I planned, and that was OK too.
Now, though, now that I'm finished, I have this let down feeling. Am I really finished with it? I sort of want to write more. And yet it's just complete and I don't have to write anything else. I'm planning the third one, which will be another spinoff with another girl. But I"m still not quite sure who I want to use as the main character and what significant thing she'll do.
I don't want to be done writing this one. Usually I feel a sense of accomplishment and peace. But I don't this time. Maybe it's because I sort of want her life. Or maybe I just want to keep writing. Becuase the end of that one left a lot of open doors.
Whatever.
This is why I need more writer friends. Because it doesn't make a lot of sense to people who don't write stories. Most of the writer-friends I've had have moved on and we talk sometimes but not on a regular basis. And I just want someone who gets it. Sometimes. Not someone who will listen to the story (which I also love talking about), but someone who knows what it feels like to type out that last word and close the document that's been up on your computer for the last however-long. Someone who misses their characters and puts herself to sleep planning the rest of the story.
Maybe some day I'll be famous and I'll run in circles with other people who write novels for a living. I don't know. For now, I just sit around and type a lot.

CHOCOLATE

I'm pretty sure there isn't enough chocolate in the world to make me feel better today.
I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I don't want to do anything. everything and everyone annoys me. Although, in all seriousness, I think anyone would be annoyed with the Wal-Mart worker who insisted on walking in the middle of the parking lot aisle, and then turned around and gave me a dirty look for waiting behind him. He was wide. There was not enough room for my car to get by and I think it would have been more rude to pass him anyway.
Then he took three carts from the cart corral and left the rest of them there. I don't even know why he came out there.
Anyway. That was a tangent. This whole post is a tangent because I'm in a bad mood and I just feel like venting a little bit. Sort of reminds me of high school.
I miss my friend Twan. We used to write each other notes and pass them between classes, and that was my opportunity to vent about stupid teachers. Then we eventually made notebooks for ourselves that we could write all of our peeves and annoyances down in. It's actually kind of helpful. Maybe not. Maybe it just made us focus on bad things more.
I'm pretty sure my bad mood is because I really wanted to be pregnant, and I'm not. So while I'm hormonal anyway, it just makes it worse.
Maybe it's Christmas time that puts me in a bad mood. I don't like it when everyone is happy just becuase it's Christmas. Seriously. It doesn't make sense to me. That isn't a good enough reason. If you want to be hapy and content, that's fine. But it shouldn't just be because people are ringing bells and putting lights up.
I'm grouchy. Call me the Grinch. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

Thanksgiving

I haven't really been home for more than one or two waking hours at a time for the last 3 days, so I'm just now getting around to this. But, I had a great holiday even though it was exhausting and my house is a wreck. I always wish there were more time to spend with relatives.

But that isn't what I'm writing for. This is a small list of things I’m thankful for this year:

That I don’t have to cook Thanksgiving dinner. Or really cook anything.

That my siblings got married and that they married good people who help complete them.

For the family in every way. I love them all.

For my little Baby doll, JJ, who keeps me humble. If I ever thought I was a good parent, she’d put me in my place. She’s sweet and surprising and full of hilarious things to say, and snuggles to give.

And for Arlo, my intelligent, kind daughter who loves people in ways I didn't know a kid could, and who wants to learn about everything, especially history. What more could a mom-teacher want?

For my friends, the long-time ones and the new ones and all of the people in between who have walked beside me through the places I didn’t want to go and the places I did.

For my parents and their constant presence in my life and the way they always offer their house for me to host stuff because mine isn’t big enough. For their good health.

And for God’s patient ways that put up with all of the muck and mire in my life that always gets in the way of us, and that He’s willing to clean it up no matter how many times I screw up.

Starving Artist

The other night I went to a party with some people from our group at church. I got to talking with the "mentor" women, who are in in their late 40's with teenage/college aged kids. We were at Stephanie's house, so I asked about the art. Her parents own a gallery or something so she had a fairly significant collection of original paintings, none of which were "very valuable". But all the same, I envied her.
Then something happened that i don't think has ever happened before. We started talking about art and our love of art, and the other woman Sandy, asked "What's your favorite medium?" And I didn't even know what to say, because I've hardly done anything. I like using pencils a lot, but I liked painting. And I've never even used oil paints. So I told her that. And then one of them asked what kind of art I like best.
I've never had a conversation like that. And as I've thought about it since that day, I've realized it's a little bit of a hole in my life. Because I love art. It draws out a big part of myself when I see well-done paintings. I'm not a scoffer when I see modern art. I like to try and derive meaning from it, thinking about the artist and what place they came from. It evokes a strong response from me every time I have a chance to look at art.
Which is pretty much never, save the paintings at the dentists office or wherever.
Well-done art is scarse. In Iowa... I'm just going to say there's a big void. I know some artists. I've talked with some.It just isn't as big of a part of life here as it could be. Maybe that's true everywhere. I've never lived anywhere else. And maybe I don't pursue the opportunities I have when I should.
But I noticed a sort of starved feeling when I was at my brother's wedding reception at a gallery, and I wanted to spend the whole time looking at paintings rather than visiting with friends and family.
When I'm in a gallery (which is, again, never), I drink it in. It feels like there isn't enough time to really spend enjoying all of the art, and I know I'll miss something I would have liked to see.
I'm starved from art, and it's making me a little bit sad inside, realizing that I've neglected that part of me that makes me more alive. No longer. I'm going to do something about this.
And, i'm going to make sure my kids are well-cultured in the art arena too. If it's the last. thing. I. do.

God is Working

This might be an overly religious post. Fair warning.
Tonight started with me and my friends in Bible study, talking about things that make us insecure (We're reading a book called "So Long Insecurity") and what triggers insecurity. We talked about sensitivity and how it affects us. And we had some good conversation.
On the drive home, I thought to myself, "In my stories, I have these cool characters that say these nice insightful things about God at the right time. Why don't I ever do that? Why don't I just say what I'm thinking?"
I've realized in the last few weeks that part of the reason I don't say things when I want to is that I haven't been as sensitive to the Holy Spirit's work as I should be. Because I do believe he helps us find words to say and tells us when to speak. But I haven't really wanted to listen to that.
Part of it is because I used to have a really big mouth, and mostly I used it to be sarcastic and cutting. It was funny, and I sort of miss those days. But, in trying to reign that in, I probably squelched some things I shouldn't have too.
Anyway, I had that thought.
I went home and checked facebook. One of my friends quoted a Papa Roach song about suicide. At first I didn't think anything about it. Then i wondered if he was actually thinking about it.
Then a second friend messaged me that she was on the phone with him trying to find out how he was doing. I prayed. I prayed hard for him. Then I called Daniel down and he prayed too. This is a guy we've both known for a long time, but not very well. Eventually Daniel met the guy at Perkins to talk.
THen I called another friend to tell her that Daniel couldn't help her with her "technical question" that night but he'd try to call tomorrow. We got off topic (which is good, since we were talking abotu fixing toilets), and she basically ended up telling me her whole faith story. Which was great, because I've also known her for a long time. I mean almost fifteen years. And in that time, I've been praying and trying to be helpful and watching her slide up and down and all around in where she stood with God. Tonight, there weren't any questions left. She knows Him. She really believes that He exsists, that He's working in her life, that He's taking care of her, and that she can trust Him. And that is a big deal. If you knew her, you would understand. It's a really big deal.
I was so encoruaged to talk to her. And, I had the chance to say the things I was thinking, like I'd just been telling myself to do on the drive home.
I think I'm going to make that a more regular practice.
Because I like seeing Him work and change lives and answer prayers. It assures me that He's there. It doesn't always feel like He is. But sometimes it just does.

I feel like talking about myself

Why would I have a blog if I couldn't use it once in a while for some narcissisticreflections, right? No one's making you read it.

Here's the news from my pretty boring life. I've been spending a lot of time writing. I'm working on a sequel to this book I wrote in about a month's time. The sequel isn't coming along quite as easily. I wish that it were because I like the story and i think it will turn out well, but I just finished reading through the 172 pages and trying to tighten it up and wasn't so successful. But whatever. I'm already thinking about the third book. Which could be a problem.

I've also been thinking about how much unhealthy food I eat, and how I really shoudl change that. It goes in spurts where I try my darndest to do it right, and then I get sick of it and eat a whole lot of things that aren't good for me. I like sugar. I can't help it. So now I'm considering this idea about taking out most of the refined sugars and flours in the diet and focusing more on protien. Because I feel tired all the time and the doctor keeps saying everything's OK but I sort of think something isn't. Long story.

Tonight I met with my preschool moms group for an "outing" at the pub down the road from me. We had a really great time. We talked a lot about health foods and natural living and gardening and meat and stuff like that. I felt really smart, having grown up in Iowa and being pretty familiar with the natural living I was raised on. A lot of the gals grew up in big cities so things like... canning is just foreign to them.

I'm feeling antsy for the "next" thing in my life too. I know i shouldn't be, but I'm restless. I want to get finished having babies and go on to school age, and live in a bigger house and have a garden in the country and stop worrying about neighbors. And it seems like everyone around me is having their next baby and moving to better houses, but I'm stuck. And I know it shouldn't feel that way and I want to be content. And most of the time I really am. But lately I just want to DO something different. It might be a long winter if this feeling doesn't go away.

There you have it. I could keep going but i guses I have nothing more to say. And I'd rather be working on my story anyway. This was the most boring post ever. Hopefully no one read it.

Haunted

Lately I haven't been able to stop thinking about my best friend from high school. We aren't friends anymore, and I'm actually too dense to really know why, although I have an idea.
But it's sort of overwhelming once in a while, when those memories come up. Because they're more just like feelings. It's one of those subjects that hurts too much to really write well about, but i want to anyway, and I can't stop thinking about her. I've been praying because sometimes those un-erasable thoughts are actually something else, something spiritual that needs to be addressed. I don't know if that's true in this case but I've prayed anyway. Sometimes when a relationship ends yuo know it's over. Sometimes you know it's not. Sometimes you're just left to wonder.

I never thought I’d lose you

I never knew I could

All of those walks through the halls

And afternoon locker meetings

The notes and the secrets,

The songs and the feelings

Torn apart now like a shredded photograph

Me reaching, you hiding

Anger and pain slipping in between

All our insecurities, what we once called trust.

In my dreams I see you often

And we aren’t enemies.

You know how sorry I am

You know the real me.

And we walk off together like old friends should

Entwined by memories

Love stronger than friendship, unbroken by time

Lost in those fragile moments.

If I’d known then what I know now

I wouldn’t have said I hated pink.

I would have given you a chance to speak

And listened without judgment

Why is it so hard to forget about those days

When we were still friends

I’d like to think that you’re the one who changed

But I think you know we both did

I just can’t stop rewriting the end.

If I could do it over

I would a hundred times

But you’d tell me how you felt

And I’d know what to say

And somewhere in the middle we’d find a way

Or some common ground.

Instead of all the hiding and facades

and maybe we wouldn't both be so empty today.

Passive Agression

I'm discovering that I'm the kind of person who can't stand passive aggressiveness. I don't like it when people puddle up their anger or hurt or whatever and don't bother to mention it for weeks or months or years. I'm not woman enough to read the signs. I can't tell when you're upset unless you TELL me.
I think I lost my best friend that way. She never said it, but I guess she was mad for a while.
And then I get in my head that maybe someone is upset about something and they aren't telling me. And that worries me even more, because then i'm afraid that, in their mind, everything I do is evil, and everything I've said has been another bullet against their chest, another stab to try to fix, and all the while I had no idea.
I obsess about it and worry and when i finally confront it I worry even more. Because no one likes to be the one opening the can of worms. But it seems like someone has to, and I'm not really afraid of fighting. At least not usually.
I mean, I understand. You're hurt. you don't think you can share it. Because when you're hurt you're vulnerable and the last thing you want to do is go with an open heart to the person who stabbed you and try to work it out.I get it. I've been there.
But you know what? That's how friendships work. It's how conflict gets solved. Not talking really just makes it all worse.
If you're reading this and thinking, "Oh, is that how she feels about me?" chances are, no. I don't. I just felt like venting that out, because of certain situations in my life right now which involve none of my blog-readers (at least not the ones I know of. I'm aware there are stalkers, but I can't be resonsible for keeping everyone happy, can I?)
I wish it didn't have to be so hard to live and be in community. But, if you have a biff with me, you should probably write me an email or call me or something. Because being angry and not saying something is like refusing to get a job when you're broke. No good. I'm tough. I can handle it. I don't want to be hurtful or mean, I promise. I'll respond the way you want, with copius apologies for my behavior or for being misunderstood. I'll probably even get you chocolate or something just to be sure you know how sorry I am.
Just don't be passive aggressive, okay?

Not Everyone at church is a Christian

Is that a news flash? I mean, it seems kind of obvious. But what Id in't know when I was younger was that not everyone who ACTS like a Christian is actually a Christian either. They come to church and they do all of the right things and go through all of the motions, but they haven't really been able to surrender to Christ for whatever reason. It doesn't make them bad or terrible, please don't think that's what I'm talking about here. What I'm thinking about is my own past and one of the only big regrets I have.

I had several friends who fell into this category. I don't know where their hearts were when I knew them, maybe they were sincere then and just wandered away later. But one friend actually told me that she'd been faking. I'll call her Jane. She was there every Sunday. Every Wednesday. She was in the choir. She went on the retreats. she went to Mexico with us. She wasn't afraid to talk about God. And I never had any reason to question her sincerity.
But then she told me, ten years later, that she'd just wanted somewhere to belong, and the Christian kids seemed nice enough so that was what she did. It never really meant anything to her. It never sunk into her heart.
And it makes me sad that I was (probably still am) so dense. That I couldn't see that creeping sadness in her eyes, notice the brokenness in her stories, read in between the lines and see what she was trying to tell me all along.
And I think, a lot of people come to church because they're hurt and they want to feel safe. But sometimes maybe that comes with the cost of disguising the wounds and just trying to fit in. I think that's true for people who know Christ and people who don't. Church shouldn't be a scary unsafe place, but some how since we're all hiding our wounds, it becomes like that unintentionally. And that's a tangent.

So I'm sort of left wonder what I'm supposed to do now that I know the truth, that some of those hurting friends of mine actually just haven't come to "saving faith" as it were. I mean, we're not supposed to "judge", and I don't think we should go around questioning peoples' salvation. So I don't really know what to do with it. Because I don't want to be a well-intentioned jerk who thinks that I'm "encouraging the brotherhood" but really I'm just saying things that don't mean anything t oa person who's faith isn't quite where I thought it was. I think I lost my best friend that way. I thought I was giving her a little push to follow things she'd claimed to believe, but I think in her heart all she heard from me was "You aren't actually good enough and you have to do this to be". Which was not my intention. And I never would have said anything to her if I'd known she didn't truly know God. Because really I would have been OK with it. I would have still loved her the same. I wish people would feel like they can be honest with me.

Lingering questions haunt me because of that relationship, and the other one with Jane. Is it safe to assume that everyone I go to church with understands the gospel? Obviously not. I just don't quite know where to draw the line between judging and helping and discerning. Maybe if i knew God better, it would be easier to pick up on those cries for help. Or maybe I'm just not supposed to really concern myself with it, and just do what I would have done anyway. But it sure sucks losing friends.