Very Productive Morning!

Beau woke up in a bad mood and was very uncooperative: Morning Prayers - check

I forgot stuff from downstairs three times and had to make extra trips: Morning Exercise - check

Got halfway to daycare & had to turn around to get tuition envelope: Take time to enjoy scenery - check

Fell in the snow: laughed like a kid again - check

Turned on work computer only to find network down - Innovation - check

I wonder what the rest if this day holds?

30 Times

In 1981, my Hero and I put this ornament on our Christmas tree in our little one bedroom apartment in Arlington, TX.

It was new and so was our marriage. This year, we put our tree up and for the 30th consecutive year this was the first ornament we put on the tree.

It's not new anymore and neither are we. Time and wear have frayed a few of the threads but it's more beautiful than ever to me. For better, for worse; in sickness and in health; for richer, for poorer: every December we put the ornament on the tree.

It is an ornament of grace that reflects our love. I pray it graces our tree for many more Decembers.

Dear Santa, I can explain...

My mom was not one for holidays. As kids, we were lucky if the tree went up a week before Christmas and it always came down by the 26th... sometimes on the afternoon of the 25th.

We didn't have Christmas stockings. I didn't even know there was such a thing until I was almost grown. We hung our socks. Our nasty ol' used socks on the bookcase on Christmas Eve.

My dad made it funny though. He always had a plan. He was always going to figure out a way for Santa to put more in his sock than anyone else's. But every year, the same thing happened. We got up on Christmas morning and our socks had a little bit of candy and an apple or an orange and my dad's sock had a switch in it. We thought it was hilarious.

One year Dad had a really elaborate plan. He hung one of his long dress socks that had a hole in the toe. Then he put a box on the floor under the sock. He explained to us that Santa would start filling his sock and it would pour through the hole and into the box. By the time Santa realized what was happening, Dad would have a whole box full of goodies. The next morning, we all ran to the socks first to see if the plan worked. We howled with glee when we saw the usual switch... through the hole and resting in the box!!!

Now I have pretty Christmas stockings hung for my Hero and me, but I will never forget those socks and that switch.

Through Winter Windows

Trace of footfalls
pierce glistening white,
tokens of travellers.
Bygone origins,
trivial destinations.
Blinding reflections as
icy air sneaks through
unseen fissures.
Warmth beckons
and beauty is abandoned.

I'm all alone

"And that ye study to be quiet, and to do your own business, and to work with your own hands, as we commanded you;" 

1 Thessalonians 4:11

One of the things about the empty nest that I've really had to adjust to is that I have so much time alone. Since 1985 when my first child was born, I didn't even know what it was like to go to the bathroom alone! I certainly don't remember much time where I had the whole house to myself. Now, here I am. Alone.

I wondered what the Bible had to say about being alone. Jacob was alone and wrestled with the angel. Jesus went apart alone to pray. When He instructed us to pray, He told us to enter into our closet. If I enter into my closet I would surely be alone because I have tiny closets.

But I have a lot of time alone. I don't want to wrestle with an angel, because, quite frankly, angels scare me. Whenever an angel shows up, history changes. My Hero can wrestle with an angel. I pray, often. I try to pray without ceasing but I don't see myself staying in the closet for hours on end. I think my joints would get very stiff.

So what else is there about being alone? While I was chasing through verses I came across 1 Thessalonians 4:11. I've read it hundreds of times, literally, but this time something different struck me. Why do we have to study to be quiet? We study hard things. The Lord must know that it is hard to be quiet. It is. Isn't it?

That word "quiet" means to lead a quiet life, not running hither and thither and to hold one's peace.

First, we certainly don't live in a world where living a "quiet life" is the norm. Running hither and thither is the mainstream. I can see why God would say we needed to study that one.

Second, I don't know about you, but it's hard to hold my tongue sometimes. I want to have my say. In the Internet world we all have our say. There's a platform for everything: Blogging, Twitter, Facebook, and YouTube just to name a few. But we need to study to be quiet. 

One of my newest pet peeves is proclaimed drama. I signed on to Facebook one day and was greeted with this status from one of my friends: "My husband needs to learn that he is not always right and I am not always wrong!" Really? You just posted that on the Internet for all to see? Really? So, when you and hubby kiss and make up, how are you going to take that back? I wanted to tell her to be quiet, but I held my peace. And I made a mental note to never share that kind of trash in a public forum. 

I was studying.

I went to school for this

I struggled through 4 years of college to write. I kept going to school, through a near-death medical emergency, a subsequent heart attack, and a lengthy recovery. I kept going because I was driven to write.

But I don't write.

Words, sentences and stories tumble around in my head constantly. I never put them to paper.

I mean to. I plan to. I just don't follow through.

I'm not sure what is going on, but I need to get past it. I need to make myself push through this place. The stories are inside and they need liberated.

For three or four years, my Mom and I talked about taking a trip to the town where she was born and lived until she was 11 or 12. She wanted to look around. She wanted to tell me stories. We planned it. We dreamed about it. We talked about it. We never did it. She passed away and we will never take that trip. Every time I pass the exit to her town, I remember the things we never did.

I need to write while I can.

My latest quilt

I made this sweet rag quilt for one of the students where I work. She is about to graduate and her baby girl is due in January.