from the plains to the hills

I am adjusting to the move.

It is slow.  I don't have my bearings.  I've forgotten how to be with my kids all day, and I think they've noticed.

But I feel welcome at Mama and Daddy's, and I've loved spending time with my 'sisters' again, and it blesses me to watch the cousins play together like there was never a gap in the timeline.

It never gets easier - moving.  It hurts to leave.  It hurts to have loved. 
It's new and exciting, but without routine, and it just takes time to make a new life again:

TIME to build new friendships,
to risk love again,
to find your way around the grocery store.

Right now I can't even find my shoes.

yeah. it's been awhile.

I knew it had been quite some time since I'd ventured over to this blog. But five months?! It's not for lack of inspiration - I've been writing in my paper journal, sharing things with my husband and friends, storing away photos that have spoken to me but are patiently resting in the archives. I think it's just this...

life! I have a husband and four kids and a part-time job and hobbies and lots of friends to play with. Sometimes blog number three just has to be set aside. :)

So I'm doing the most freeing thing I can think of.....I'm retiring this blog. I am not deleting it completely because I want to be able to come back here and read over my old posts. It's good to browse through old journal entries once in a while. So catch me over on our family blog or visit my photo blog! 'Cuz you won't find me here no more, no more.

Toodles!

the beggar at my window

Every morning, he looks at me like this:



Time for our walk.

I don't mind, really. We both need the alone time. We like to find things that no one else sees.

Sometimes things are as they are because it's early. Cold. Still. Waiting for someone to notice.

I notice.

He chases rabbits and pheasants, but because he calls me out to be with him....I notice.

He did it again.

This time I was talking to my friend Katie:
"Wow. You should see this sunset. It's incredible!"
"Yeah, I was just looking at it, too!"
It was a sweet feeling to know I was watching the sun set with my friend, even though we're separated by about five miles of gravel roads.
It's nice to know it's a really big sky. :)

last night's sunset

beautiful.

beauty in winter

Most mornings, I try to sneak away after the boys get on the bus and take a walk with the dog through our meadows. It seems good for the both of us to start our day that way.



The scenery's not much to speak of here in the middle of winter. On an overcast morning, it can be pretty drab, and not very enlightening to the soul. But on this particular morning, I had the idea to set my camera setting to black and white, and get in closer, and it changed the way I saw things.

I saw worshippers, with their heads and hands lifted up to God.

Intercessors with their postures bowed low.

And dancers with graceful, twisting limbs.

I wonder - would I miss the chance to see things differently if I wasn't willing to, well... see things differently? Maybe during the drab cold of winter, when spring seems yet so far away, I need to be content to see beauty in ugly places.

thorns

I was troubled with something today, and my frosty morning walk stayed with me long enough to inspire me, even at the end of the day.

Sometimes we walk through thorny places. Uncomfortable places. But hopefully, if we will obey the guidance of the Holy Spirit, we will be able to recognize his marks of beauty as we pass through.

Thoughts from a cold, cold walk.

I love to gaze out of the living room window at the frosty, sparkling morning, steaming cup of coffee in hand.

But to walk into the raw chill of it, boots tied up tight, scarf wrapped twice round the neck, a too-thin pair of gloves quickly giving way to the cold,

it does quite another thing to my soul.

It reminds me that I am not invincible.

I stand alone and listen to - no, I feel the quiet. It's the quiet of a world that is too cold even to take a breath.

Even the wind is held back.

Then I thank God for a world that stands still once in a while.

the reality of prayer

When I teach my kids to pray, when we say our bedtime prayers, say the blessing before our meals, pray over scraped knees, do I pray in a way that is real? Do I talk to My Father before their eyes? Do I show them what it is to listen?

My children need to know God as a real person who hears them, to know the power of the words lifted up to his throne.


Today our new dog Optimus jumped the fence. The shelter volunteers said he was a jumper, so we knew it was possible. Spencer went out to look around the block and came back dogless, with equal devastation and determination on his face. I knew tears were being held behind a leaky dam.



(Lord! Would you lead us to this dog just to lose him? How would they cope? What would I say to mend their broken hearts?)




Back he went, with empty leash, while I watched out the front door. Then there was a flash of white, followed by a glimpse of Spencer's red winter coat, and just like that, all was right again with the world. He had come back home on his own - he knew where his new family lived. I turned around to see Nathan's bright eyes looking at me, "Mommy, I was praying that Optimus would come back." Sure enough, I had remembered him being very quiet on the couch. He knew who was in control and who was not. Now he knows a God who hears him.


Thank you, Lord, for all the times it "gets through." Even in spite of me.
And thank you for bringing back their dog.

girlfriends

We need 'em.


Girlfriends appreciate a good hair day.

Girlfriends tell you about the drool on your sweater.

Girlfriends love us when we're not quite....well.....

not quite ourselves.

Special thanks to all my girlfriends for loving me through the "not quite myself!"

What would I do without you? I'd be, like, What-eva.

november

It's not over...

till the

last

leaf

falls.

Don't rush me, winter.

the eyes slow down and see

Have you ever taken the "get to know your friends" quiz? There is usually one specific question I can't answer. It stumps me.


"What's your favorite season?"


I don't think I can label one as my favorite. As much as I love the reds and the yellows, the brilliant blue sky, the squirrels that gather,



I think my favorite part is that they change.



I suppose I could live somewhere where it's always warm and sunny. It would be nice to grow a garden all year long, and never have to pull out all the bulky winter gear or sop up sloppy footprints by the front door.



But what would I miss?

Each time a season steps aside for the next, my surroundings shift, and my eyes are open to see the patterns of change that were in existence long before I was here to notice. I see things that remind me of last year's pumpkin patch, of the crops of my childhood, and of bringing my first baby home. I'm thankful for the seasons that change and give me something new to see. Again.

John 3:8

The wind blows where it wishes,

and you hear its sound,

but you do not know where it comes from

or where it goes.

Lord, help me to fully embrace the mysteries that surround you.

change of season

I've never been able to say with certainty which season is my absolute favorite.



This one has always tempted me.

he restoreth my soul

Sometimes, worship is quiet.

I went to the park today, a little one-hour retreat in the midst of lessons and requests, feeding and cleaning-up-after. I found just the right picnic table under the shade tree, opened my Bible to read, and realized I had left my journal at home.

Uh oh. Nothing to be busy about. Nothing to "do." No "doing."

So, what then...just sit? Sit and read, sit and watch the squirrels gather, sit and watch the robins bathe in the stream? Sit and feel the autumn breeze and follow the cloud path that drifts overhead and just think?

YES.

And pray without words, like being with a friend that is close enough to make comfortable the silence?

YES.

So I did, and He restored my soul once again.