Being

Laying in bed this morning, in that half awake but can’t open my eyes yet place, I was begging for it to be raining. Straining my ears above the noise of the early morning traffic; I could hear the tires splashing on the wet road, but was it still coming down? Beside the fact that we desperately need the rain – I wanted the rain. I wanted the dark sky, the rain coming down. Because, what I wanted this morning was to curl up in my big chair with a fire and a blanket with a good book. I wanted to curl up in my cave.



So, why the desire for the rain? Somehow, I don’t give myself permission for time in my chair unless I have an excuse - a reason that I’m not doing other things. When the sun is shining, I feel guilty just being.


Just being.


That is such a difficult concept for me, and I would guess most Americans. We are a society of doers. We base our worth on what we do and have little respect for those we deem lazy or that do things beneath them. Add to this the fact that I am a bottom line person. “Get to the point.” “Why is this important?” These two things combined, make me a doer. Wrapped up in all of this is this nagging question of what is the point of life? Because if I am just being, then I am not doing something that needs to be done for life to matter. God has expectations of me, and I’m not living up to them.


But, what if there weren’t expectations? What if being was the point of life?


I picked up The Shack the other night and randomly started reading. (I’ve read it several times before, so I didn’t need the whole story.) Towards the end, there is a conversation between the main character, Mack, and God regarding expectations. The author makes a case for turning it from a noun into a verb - from expectations to expectancy. What if God doesn’t have expectations of us, but has expectancy of being with us?

Expectations are the cause of much strife in life and in relationships. We set up expectations and no one can really fulfill them, instead of having expectancy of being with that person. My kids don’t need to do anything for me to love them. I don’t have any expectations of what our time together should look like, or how they should act for me to love them more or be happy with them. I just want to be with them.


Maybe that is what God wants from me.


Maybe it doesn’t matter what I do or don’t do, what I accomplish, what I don’t…he just wants me.

thankful

new music little boys breathing next to me clean sheets cold nights to snuggle learning new things reading creating learning to really see forgiveness hope gingerbread houses and margaritas

beauty everyday

summer fun

took the boys to san francisco for the weekend

exploratorium...

of course, the trees outside the exploratorium...

first train...

first bus...

first chinatown...
first dim sum... (ok, didn't get a good picture until they descimated the food!)

cable cars, fisherman's wharf, lots of walking and we had a blast!

Letting Go

I have been in a season of loss for a while now. I keep asking God when is this going to be over?! But there hasn't been an answer yet. Letting go of people, babies, relationships, behaviors and dreams.

A dear friend told me that I'm not the same person he knew years ago. Part of me wanted to rejoice and say thank you God! And part of me wanted to grieve, because the things that have changed me and shaped me have not been fun or enjoyable or wanted and seriously wouldn't wish them on anyone. I am changed. For the better? I hope so. But only God can answer that one.

I do know that God is using to speak into other's lives. Other's that have landed on a similar path.

This season of loss is still here. I am currently saying goodbye to my house. Even writing that sentence is hard and the lump in my throat is growing every second. This is MY house. This is the house I came to after burying a baby. This is the house I came home to with Max in my arms. This is the house my boys learned to walk in. climb in and on top of. I have touched every part of this house and yard and made it mine. Even tearing out bathrooms with my own hands and rebuilding. God and I re-built my life here.

Not all of the memories here are good, but it's where our life happened. I've started going through the cabinets. Getting things ready for a garage sale. Started packing. Blessing others with things. This is all just stuff, right?

So, if this is all just stuff, why is there this ache in my heart? Why are tears streaming down my face? Tears that I try to hide from the boys. Tears that burn my cheeks? Tears that I'm all too familiar with. This is the best thing for us, I tell them. So, why does it hurt so much?

Sometimes dreams are the hardest to lose. How do you grieve your dreams? No one can see them. There is nothing to point to. There are no hallmark cards. But they linger on. The loss of dreams is the loss of hope. And that is not what God is about. He brings hope.

So here I am at the brink of something new. And scary. And unknown. A time for new dreams to be made. A time for giving my dreams to God and saying, "here you go." I wonder what you are going to do with these. But here they are.

I read a fabulous post the other day about turning our worries into wonder. Instead of thinking "what if...." turn it into "I wonder how God is going to..."

I wonder how God is going heal my heart.

I wonder how God is going redeem my dreams.

I wonder who he is going to bring into my life.

I wonder where he is leading me.

He is so much bigger than me; and thank God he is!! He is bigger than anything I can do to mess things up.

"I will restore to you the years that the locusts have eaten." Joel 2:25

Words

Words have power.

Words tear down or lift up.

Words are art.

Words created the universe.

Words are healing.

In the beginning was the Word.

For awhile I have been thinking about this - words, writing, this blog. Why did I start it? Because it was a fad and everyone else was doing it? To keep in touch with family? Because I love to write? Because I have to write even if it is never published?

I write all day. Mostly in my head. And wow, I write really good stuff in there! By the time I make it to a pencil or the computer, most of the best stuff is gone...

But, I stopped.

I told myself that part of that was grief. I didn’t want to come back and write about losing another baby. I didn’t want to write about the pain. The hate. The ache. The stolen dreams.

However, that is not really true. I write to deal with life. With grief. It helps me process.

The honest answer to why I stopped writing, was that no one was reading. I wanted someone to like me. I wanted someone to approve. Someone to tell me it was good. but, what if writing itself is the point?

What if writing is an act of worship? What if creating whether it is writing, painting, parenting, gardening is a gift and a responsibility from God? What if no one sees? No one notices? Doesn’t it still matter? It is in the quiet of our hearts and minds and souls that God works. usually without anyone seeing. We hope people notice, but that is not the point.
The point is worship. The point is that this is who I am.

I create to heal.

I create because I can’t help myself.

I create because I love beauty.

I create because God created me to.

So, I will continue to write. To share. To cry. To laugh. Because readers and followers aren’t the point.

Creating is.

What this looks likes going forward? Who knows? I do know that it will be from my heart.

Plans...and News

I have been a single mom for the past six years...and for any of you counting, yes, my baby is six years old. He went into first grade this year. sniff, sniff.


I knew this was coming and have been planning for this day for years. You see, as a single mom, almost every decision I have made has revolved around that date - when I went back to graduate school, when I graduated, what jobs I have taken. Because not only would I be able to work full time and not worry about day care (worry as in I HATE it), but my alimony also ended on that date. So being able to support us was pretty high on my list of priorities...


Max started first grade on a Monday...and on Tuesday I got a baby.

I wasn't looking for one. I wasn't on a list. But a young family member made a completely selfless and courageous decision to offer her little girl a better life...


What do you say when someone puts a baby in your arms?


Yes, I took the baby. I'm scared. For lots of reasons and not the least of them being whether or not the mom will change her mind. I'm not sure I could handle losing another daughter.

My sister and her kids live with me because she is fighting breast cancer. After chemo and radiation for almost a year, she had her other mastectomy last week and is starting to move around better, but she still has several surgeries and a lot of recovery time. She will need a job. She's scared.


I'm very scared. And the bottom line is that I'm really afraid to trust God. The week before the baby, the bank denied our modification, so we will have to find a new place to live soon.


If all of this sounds like I'm looking for pity, I'm not. Life happens to everyone, I hear a lot of it everyday! But, sometimes you just need to say it all, so someone can witness that you are struggling.

I know that God is bigger than all of our circumstances and I trust him more now than I have in years...but I feel it is still leap years away from where I want my relationship to be with him. Anyone have any suggestions?

And a final, completely unrelated note, I have no idea where I want to take this blog!

Blessings

Hanging out on the walkway to my front door...

Sand Crabs, Sea Glass and Sand Castles

A foggy day on the beach was perfect for taking pictures!

I have been looking for sea glass for years, with no luck. However, this day - I found some! It was a wonderful, welcome blessing.

Last Days of Summer

We are down to the last week of summer vacation here, and I have to say I am sad to see them go back to school. I know a lot of parents can't wait to get back to the routine and structure of school days, not to mention that the kids are occupied most of the day! But, I like my kids with me. I love watching them explore and create and seeing their little minds expand.

We went to my parents last week and they spent the entire time outside. Riding bikes. On lizard hunts. Exploring. Climbing trees. Occasionally, posing for mom and the camera. But they never asked to even turn on the TV.

Blog Hiatus

You may have noticed that I haven't been writing much...Summer is here in full swing and with some very active boys living under the same roof as me, we are pretty busy. Not to mention that I've had jury duty, a nasty ear infection that laid me out for a solid week, vacation Bible school, and I got a new job!

As I was reading my previous posts to see what I had been talking about, I realized that my dreaming post was a little depressing. I didn't mean it to be, and in fact I do have a lot of dreams - just not the huge, life culminating in one moment type of dreams like climbing Everest.

My dreams are more of the everyday, living life variety. I think that these dreams are sometimes harder to sustain over the long run, because they are not necessarily recognized as dreams. The day in and day out of becoming a better person, a better mother.

Becoming the person God created me to be.

Using my creativity.

Learning to love with my whole heart.

Making a beautiful, peaceful home.

Training my boys to become strong, men of God with integrity.

Raising chickens.

Growing food.

Eating wonderful homemade meals.

Loving my children. Laughing everyday.

Bringing joy to my life and my kids lives.

Deepening my friendships and developing new, creative and enduring relationships.

Opening myself to possibility of finding someone else to share my life with.

Completely giving my life over to God.

Resting in His peace.

Keeping my house clean for more than 15 minutes. (Okay, this may be a pipe dream until the boys are say 30...)

Selling my creations of furniture, paintings, crafts....inspiration of the day.

In other words, I have LOTS of dreams. Some big. Some small. Some not yet spoken. Some I'm not even aware of yet. But, it's important to dream. It's important for my soul. It's important for my daily existence. Even though sometimes the dreaming process might be a little scary - it's important to dream dreams. If I only allow myself to hope for things that I can easily accomplish, where is the mystery, excitement, striving? Hope is critical for my survival.

"But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." - Isaiah 40:31

Beach Dreaming

It's been over 105 degrees for the past week and right now I'm dreaming of being at the beach with the boys!

I found these pictures when they were little...I can't believe how fast they have grown up.

4th of July

I hope everyone had a wonderful 4th!

Dreams

I feel like I have lost the power of dreams. When faced the question of:

“What would I do, if I knew I could not fail?”

I don’t have a response. I have no idea!

Have I lost the power of dreams?

Or have I just been too afraid to dream in the first place?

What would you do if you knew you could not fail?

Wordless Wednesday