Westwoods

                   ( an excerpt from the book I am writing for my daughters ) When I was very young, probably twelve, I dreamed of becoming a marriage counselor.  It probably stemmed from the trauma I felt watching my own dear parents struggle through some hard years.  I could never quite get passed all the 'look deep into your past' malarkey tho, and from there, decided being a reporter would be so much more fulfilling. I imagined joining a news team that wanted to report only true and good things about situations. I would reveal the 'truth' and make the world a better place. All those dreams were set aside as I got older and saw the world did not operate in this way and when looking into what my real hearts desire was, I discovered that I loved communicating.  I loved being understood and complimented on saying something of worth.  I loved how words could make everything all better and grow trust in friendships....

We were invited away last evening for snacks and visiting.  There were four different families there, most at different stages of life.  The one family, being by far the busiest, with four small children under the age of seven, inspired me to remember with a clarity that surprised even myself. I think it was the way she admitted defeat and tiredness. She did it with a smile on her face.  Maybe she wanted to cry inside but she seemed at peace with her defeat and tiredness, a place I never achieved well.  She stated her plans of the next two weeks, husband away on a job, the morning carpool trek to school, and the baby in her 3rd bout of ear infection. She wasn't whining. She was just saying what the next days held for her, with a calm demeanor. We talked about the chronic tiredness of motherhood, the up all nights some nights, the walking the baby till she falls off to sleep and when carefully putting her back in bed, the jerking back to wakefulness and sometimes ...

Sometimes there are no words. We are unable to understand. We feel crippled. Will there be a place where we can rest? Who will hold us so we can go on? Strength?  We can't find it. 1 Peter 5-11 NIV Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that He may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you. Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil Prowls around like a roaring lion Looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith Because you know that your brothers Throughout the world are undergoing The same kind of sufferings. And the God of all grace Who called you to His eternal glory in Christ After you have suffered a little while Will Himself restore you and make you strong Firm and stedfast To Him be the power for ever and ever. Amen. To an unbeliever it may seem like we use God for a bandage or a crutch.  It is said in a way that makes it sound like...

This is often the first step in stopping an argument or a debate or a conversation that has gone round and round.  Bruce and I don't argue anymore but we have long conversations that get us nowhere fast. See, we've matured to calling them by a better name at least.  Everyone has them, arguments, debates, conversations that go round and round, and the fight inside to be heard.  And yes, we even want to be right. I SO want to be right sometimes.  Sometimes I want it so bad, I forget the important fact that I don't have the authority to be right on my own, so because I am human and frail and obstinate I sacrifice humility and peace. Who has the authority to be right?  Our Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, The Everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.  When I am focused on what those names mean in my life, I don't have to broadcast my opinions to the world or study what others are doing wrong.  I don't have to judge and keep track of any ones walk...

   We awoke to this... I know nothing about photography but braved my ignorance and waded out into the snow for these inspiring pictures.  I recently bought a new camera; a little Nikon coolpix... Nothing too fancy but nice enough to try for a good photo...     This one is called. "Heavy Laden"                                                      Chimney pots?            Sorry, can't think of a name for this one...                              OR this one...                                 Wood and ice... Don't you just love how imaginative I am?  Have a good Friday... Enjoy the moment you are in....

Anyone who knows me, also knows I'm not big into details and that I am blunt.  Admitting the blunt part isn't easy at all.  I would rather say, I am diplomatically blunt.  Doesn't that sound kinder?   I am finding in this world of writing; people want details and verbosity. Being diplomatically blunt doesn't lend itself to either.  I was noncommittally looking into submitting an article with a magazine that wanted at least 1000 words per article. I'm sure there are a few subjects on which I could wax knowledgeably, by using a lot of big impressive words, but what happened to editing? Since when does using a lot of unnecessary words make a person intelligent and worthy of publishing?  I feel sure I could say all that needs to be said on certain subjects in ten words or less.  This is a problem when you are trying to interpret life on paper, which is what I do.  All the time.  My book is going to be the shortest one out there I guess, more ac...

These are the thoughts that roam free in my head after the noise and chaos of nonstop parties and people.... About witnessing..two thoughts on that:  There isn't a right or wrong way to go about it.  I've used that as an excuse to not say what pops into my head, given the opportunity.  I've read Jamie Langston Turner's novels and in most of them, the people witnessing are odd ducks who are unconcerned about what people will think or how they will be received.  The important thing is, they are speaking up as a reflex as the opportunity arises, not after much thought and prayer; that is something that gets done before hand.  These odd ducks are prayed up and read up so when they bump into the moment it comes out. Oh, to be an odd duck freely!  Another thing, is what I heard someone say from the other side of things. She was a Christian but was talking about before she had asked Jesus into her life and accepted His plan of salvation for her life.  She...

Remember this?  I said I would add another interesting essential oil in a few days.  I did.  I added clove and let me tell you, it is smelling great! We took the kids to Triple Play over vacation... Don't ask me why she wanted to do this, but I heard about it the whole time we were there until I caved...  This is the happy crew of us... Except me, of course...  At Cafe Rio...I have a better picture of this but of course I chose the one everyone is looking their oddest.  This tree hangs out over our back yard... I feel like it looks.... The girls prayed for this snow... they've played in it hours and hours... My bit of cheer in this bleak and weary land...  Happy Day to all...

What do you do when the party is over and everyone has gone home?  What do you do when the books you like to read no longer hold your attention, when the thoughts in your mind disappear, and you have no words to form? What do you do when you have to push yourself to clean anything, when colors seem faded, and creativity goes flat? Why does winter have to come and linger and go deep into the bones?  Are all the winter stages of life this way?  Cold. Harsh. A Mount Everest. Achingly beautiful at times. Extreme. Intense. Why must winter feel so white and gray? Without the winter of life and the season itself, we wouldn't notice the green of summer. Without extremes and cold and harsh, we wouldn't crave balance, warmth, and the softer things we experience. Maybe that's the reason.  Does there need to be a reason? I do know this.  Without these seasons, I do go flat. The constant conflict of my environment is what keeps me grounded in the tangible things that...