Westwoods

Once I asked my ten year old daughter if she was friends with everyone.  Her response was, "Not really.  I don't like when they won't listen  to what I am saying, they just interrupt me in the middle.  I also don't like how some of my friends, when I tell them about something exciting that I did, they tell a better thing that happened to them." Out of the mouths of babes...   Anyhow, I have been thinking about my friends... They sometimes interrupt me, but always at a good time.  It brings me to awareness of my jabbering and if what I am saying is worthwhile in the first place. I like all of my friends for different reasons and some of the reasons are the ones my ten year old didn't like.  Those friends who say what I don't want to hear are good friends.  They are the ones who love me despite all the excitement and drama going on in my life.  They are the ones who question me when I get too carried away with my own ideas. ...

Recently, a conversation was replayed that I had been a part of years ago.  In hearing it the second time I was the bad guy.  I was described in the story as being presumptuous and incredibly ignorant. I think the person telling it didn't remember it was me, at least I choose to believe this, for I was standing right there.  And the second time hearing this conversation I feel no different about the particular debate. So, that would make me still presumptuous and ignorant. It's not often anyone gets a second chance at a conversation.  I found it ironic this person was still so strongly upset about someone else's personal opinion.  That my 'presumptuous' and 'ignorant' words had that kind of power amazes me.   I had to think that one through.  I still have the same opinion I did years ago on this matter and the person that thought it was so 'wrong', still feels disgust over something so trivial.  What does this say about me or the other ...

  This morning it was just us.  We awoke all around the same time, sleepily fixed out own breakfasts and were quiet together.  Bruce did two quizzes for his summer class. The girls read their books side by side on the recliner couch having been rained out from sleeping on the trampoline both by the water sprinkler and God's rain.  Laife noisily slurped his coffee and read a magazine.  I finished reading a book about writing and drank coffee and wrote. And during all that quiet I realized what a treasure it is to be just us.  It was the first time in over a month.  These moments are going to become more rare as the kids keep trying their wings.  I am proud of them.  I am sad at them.  Why can't they enjoy doing nothing together more and more instead of less and less?  I have a nice warm couch and good food and clean sheets to sleep on.  Stay awhile longer.  Please? While the two oldest were in Puerto Rico, I ta...

Being one that is overly emotional and also overly analytical; I am a fine one to speak of such things as drama or melodrama.  That was a joke.  I may or may not know of what I speak.  That is up to you.  You have your own ideas about dramatic living, I am sure. Lest you go off on your own limb as I did when I first started thinking about this, I challenge you to not become critical of another persons drama.  It is a hard thing to not do.  One of the first quips you will read upon researching this topic, is the fact that no one likes another person's drama more than their own. Here's another one:         I was all set to figure out that drama in most of life situations is wrong.  What I found out though, is that drama is usually a good story based on true facts and real life situations; material that also teaches a lesson for coping in life.  It's the kind of stuff writers use to make a believable story.   ...

There is a deep mourning in my soul at times.  It surprises me when it hits; sneaking up in the most untimely fashion.  It is a snatcher of happiness and of peace. It is a punch in the center of my skull and makes the empty spots inside my chest... well, emptier. I remember the first time I felt loss and sorrow.  I mourned deeply and was only ten. Reading about tearing your clothes and sitting in sack cloth and ashes felt identifiable somehow. My loss at that time was watching my parent's marriage fall apart.  My sorrow was the fear of never being able to trust adult relationships again.  (God has repaired and mended their marriage abundantly! It happened so long ago; I rarely remember it did. And my wounds are healed!)   At different times throughout my life; sadness has overwhelmed me and I could agree with David in Psalms with his cries of desperation. Also, it is strangely comforting that God claimed David as a man after his own heart.  It ...

Last weekend we did go sailing for three days.  I meant to blog about it first thing this week but life got a little crazy for us here on the land and in real life.   Bruce ended up going to Ohio for his uncle's funeral and I ended up doing home improvement projects so there was not time left to be newsy. My two oldest came back to me last night!  Shaunti and I and one of Toria's best friends drove to the airport to meet their late arrival. I grabbed the both of them around the neck one in each crook of my arm and alternated kissing their teenage cheeks.  They are never leaving me again.   Actually, Laife just left for the weekend to go camping in B.C. with his youth group. He did admit to missing my food and care and acted thankful for the little he received in the few short hours he was home. SO, back to last weekend... We had lovely sunshine and a few times of lovely sailing winds throughout the three days we were out.   Alw...

God has an excellent sense of humor.  Sometimes while reading the Bible; I will read something that makes me laugh out loud. I'll be honest with you.  Vacation isn't the easiest thing for someone like myself.  I have to ease into the whole idea of not being needed and used.  My tendency is to feel useless and to look inward; a very dark place it is too.  The last two weeks; I couldn't decide if life was actually as tough as it felt or if I was making it tough by feeling too much because I didn't have to go anywhere or do anything I didn't want to do.  I know, it's twisted.  It seems the lack of responsibility turns me into a wimp emotionally, sorta like a lack of exercise to the body; when not in use, it becomes mush.  If I can't understand how this works, how would I explain it to you? Anyway, I've been bumping along trying to stay thankful and focused("thank-you" to God for this betrayal I am feeling about a certain situation or s...