Shilah Writes

  On the Other Side of Today...                                                            I was putting the groceries away, thinking about my sister, April, with her son, Christian, sick in the hospital and their terrible night of transfers from one place of medical assistance to the next all through the night. She at home with the other kids, Jay, in his work clothes, no contact solution or toothbrush, the man of the hour to take Christian for help, and all the things that happen when things become emergencies. And how we do it? How do we keep calm and carry on and sleep and drink and eat when all normalcy goes out the window? I've had parts of my week that also came unglued, of which I cannot speak (privacy and respect and love sometimes deem it necessary) but I had to make a choice to stay glued while stuff fell apart. I don't thi...

  It is amazing what utter nonsense one can write when on a timer. I went to a neighborhood writer's club today and we wrote eight minutes on a timer with a prompt: A place you walk by every day.  That was the longest eight minutes of my life as I was writing among strangers in my honest, blunt way and sweating great drops of blood, dreading we might be required to read aloud what we had written. I should have checked first.  Of course the first thing that came to mind was the hoarder's house I pass every time I go over to Shaunti's and I really didn't want to write about that because a good part of the group was from my local little neighborhood of Diamond Lake, and what if it were one of their homes? Anyway, they were gracious and let me off the hook. They did come back to me and asked if I wanted to change my mind. And so I did. And I guess it wasn't anyone of their homes because they all knew the place and gave encouraging feedback to my meandering mind.  I gues...

  Today I went to Spokane with a friend. Coffee was bought two different times. Once at the beginning of our epic trip on the outskirts of Deer park, and the other on the way home. We both always get the 12 oz Americano with steamed cream.  She took me to a greenhouse nursery that I had never been before, we walked the dreamy aisles and talked about terrariums and how to make them. I met a Z plant, one I have never observed before. We smelled plants and the watering of them in the air and were made glad instantly. On to a thrift store where I found my daughter a glass container for her adventures in making Kombucha, a glass bowl for me, a mossy green pullover sweater that I probably didn't need but wanted. There were two books that I would have loved to have when I was a mom with littles. I bought them for a couple moms I know. In Manito park, we walked the Gaiser Conservatory where I took close up picture on my phone camera, for later usage of screen savers or some such thing...

  Monday's 20 minutes... I fast every Monday. I started this habit about 9 months ago. At first I did it for health and to balance the ole hormones and for however else the internet claims fasting benefits you. And then I listened to a podcast by Christy Wright called Get Your Hopes Up. She urged her listeners to try fasting because the Bible teaches it. One of her points was the fact that we are hyper focused on being obedient and disciplined in our walk with Christ, yet avoid fasting as much as possible and view it as outdated. She had a point. I did that whole things of excuses and avoidance. Regardless, I was curious. And I needed peace about something. And real answers. I started fasting for my soul instead of my body. Things I noticed: Hunger made me aware of how much void I felt in my spirit instead of in my stomach. I didn't discern the hunger difference between the two before. That hollow space of need wasn't actually as much bodily hunger as it was in recognizing ...

  Sunday morning...we're going home today... It's early. I woke up at 5. Made the mandatory cup of coffee, read my morning Psalm...can't quite stomach the old and new testament passages this early in the day. The overwhelm of goodness and memories make me freeze at the thought of the goodbyes. It can't go on indefinitely, I know. I wouldn't even want it to. Already, I'm craving a quiet moment and corner to call my own, where life goes back to normal. Things I will treasure forever from this weekend...The babies...Kiana and Seth.  Kiana, I have gotten to know well, as she lives round the corner from me. Seth at four weeks, I have squished and held and loved...that space is now established.  We wonder how we got here? And how did we not know how much fun this would be? Watching the kids become parents...sweet to behold...Having my Toria still to hold and hang out with, without her person...for a little while longer...off she goes to Germany again later this week.....

  I rarely include a question in the title, but this one is exactly how it feels to me on days I'm not sure if God is hearing me? I am the performer with a dead microphone...or am I? Please do, grab yourself a cup of coffee and join me in a few musings about prayers that God answers and those He answers in His own way...those prayers that seem others get answered but you don't...those kinds of musings. What to do with the strong emotions of those who have easily and freely what you so terribly want for your own? How to be genuinely happy for them and not in sorrow for you and your "loss" or whatever you want to call it. And how to still hold on to the peace and joy that is yours as you continue, faithful and steadfast, whether or not that thing is ever going to heal or be changed...maybe it feels completely abandoned and dried up, left for dead? I get to this same tree over and over. I find myself taking that same loop trying to find my way out of this (dense woods) g...

  Pretends to be tough but isn't. He's afraid he will show too much emotion so says gruff things or gets quiet. Writes daily journal entries on his computer just for fun and to learn how to write better.  The other day, I offered to help him with editing his work before printing it out.  I thought it would take a half hour but it took over two. I got distracted with his view on life and his humor. I could hear his voice in the words. And my five year old self remembered the security of his normal, sturdy, steady self.  He never pretends anything. I know I said he can be gruff to hide his emotions, but it's not a bluff. At least to me. I see him regulating and gaining control before choking up or saying something in a wobbly voice. Usually it's kind. He's inquisitive and loves people. I used to think he was too snoopy and sometimes embarrassing with his questions. Some people don't appreciate prying thoughts or questions, at least I felt that from my friends whil...