enduring death, creating life

Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and they who indulge
 in it shall eat the fruit of it [for death or life].  Proverbs 18:21

 

I have; I have indulged in it, and I have lived to endure its fruit.
Now I will indulge in it, but now it will not be the same.
Now I will indulge and it will create life.

list for today

Today I want to

–relax my heart.
–let the peace of Christ rule in my heart.
–not cry.
–not feel guilty.
–talk to somebody about good things.
–not go to a senior meeting at Berean.
–pet the cat.
–pray for my friend Erin, who’s having an MRI today.
–crunch ice.
–enjoy Havah’s English class, which I teach.
–enjoy reading The Moonstone, which Rosa has asked me to read.
–pray for Jo, who’s having a hard time.
–maybe watch a Stargate Atlantis, which carries lots of spiritual parallels.
–cheer up.
–cook something, and enjoy it.
–not be asked a lot of questions, especially ones that begin with, “Mom, 
   can we…”
–be thankful for a husband who listens to God and who also provides for
    his family.
–pray for Wendell, who lost his brother Sunday night.
–not even wonder what others think of me…except maybe think about
   people who love me.

left out

Once I read a Bible teacher’s answer to the question, “What do you do when you’ve been misunderstood?”  He said, basically, you just be misunderstood.  There’s not much you can do about what another person is thinking; you can only do something about what you are thinking.  So, you entrust yourself to God and let Him support you.  Let Him take care of your heart that has been unnecessarily stomped on. 

I guess it’s the same with a life-long sore spot I have:  feeling left out.  Sometimes I just feel left out, but sometimes I am left out.  So, what do I do about it?  Just be left out? 

My flesh wants to wallow in it.  But when you wallow in the mire, nasty things cement themselves to you.  I must remember this. 

My enemy wants me to do something about it–something along the line of “getting back at” the person.  That’s no good; my enemy lies a lot, so I can be pretty certain that any thought behind this is based on something that’s not true. 

Hhhh….I think I will follow the way of love–or try to.  I will entrust myself to Him who judges justly–Him who knows all there is to know about it, all the stuff I don’t know, and makes correct judgements about everything.  And…just be…well, just be.

a kick in the pants

“Now you just dig them in front.  They have worries, they’re counting
the miles, they’re thinking about where to sleep tonight, how much money for gas, the weather, how they’ll get there–all the time they’ll
get there anyway, you see.  But they need to worry and betray time
with urgencies false and otherwise, purely anxious and whiney, their souls really won’t be at peace unless they can latch onto an established and proven worry and having once found it they assume facial expressions to fit and go with it, which is, you see, unhappiness, and
all the time it all flies by them and they know it and that too worries them to no end.”    On the Road, Jack Kerouac

Christmas warmth all year

The Christmas tree has finally left our house.  It was so pretty this year.  But now it has a new home: it’s standing in the flower bed, leaning against a shepherd’s crook, but still standing upright.  It looks for all the world like a living, growing fir, right there with the giant rosemary.  I hope some birds make use of it. 

The tree had red toule wrapped around it this year, plus…wait.  Did I already describe it here?  Well, I will again.  Red toule, brown paper angels, carved orange peels, a few berries, a couple of  Jimmy Morgan originals, peppermint candy canes, and clear lights.  I liked the look it gave the living room so much that I’ve decided to put lights up in there…sometime.  Happy touches.  Happy little touches of light.

The twin Santas which Rosa christened “Dee” and “Dum” this year still sit on the pew, looking happy and neat.  But they must go, too.  Stockings are still hung on the organ with care.  The manger scene (that is something like fifty years old and has fifty years worth of grime on it, making it look rather like images from the Sistine chapel, not cleaned up) still adorns the organ, a Messiah score sitting directly underneath it, waiting to be played. 

Somehow I need–I need– to make my home look warm and Christmas-y without making it look like Christmas.  Hmmm…maybe that will be my project for today.  I’ll work it in around reading Little Britches to Havah and administrating school around here today. 

Warmth…create warmth today.  That’s what I’m putting on my to-do list.

Helper waiting

 

Too many thoughts, too little space for them.
So many processes, but so much fog.
A kindly knocking at the door…
“Who is it?”
“Help.  I am Help for you.”

Too much weight, too little strength.
Too little memory, too little hope.
But enough…enough to consider it…

What if I let Him in? 
Have I ever done that before?
I don’t remember what it’s like.
I just remember frustration.
And being alone.

Turn to the fire, warm myself.
Forget. 
Forget everything but being warm.

Soon it starts over, though.
The whole thing starts over:
thoughts, weakness,
weariness, weight,
accusations, confusion…
and I handle it
alone.

But now…
this time I remember
that It works.

Raise myself up and answer the door,
because I know He’s still there;
He never leaves.

Helper.

Psalm 126:5

Someone dear to me is hurting.  It makes me hurt, too. 

She said that she’s been looking at the painful things rather than self-medicating, rather than trying to hide from them.  It makes her cry to look at them, but she’s been much better off for having looked at them. 

So I thought, “Maybe I should look at them, too.  Maybe I should cry for her hurts, too.”  This referred pain of mine lurks all around me, but I have not let it too close.  I don’t like to cry, see.  But maybe I should cry for her and pray.

Ps 126

When the Lord brought back the captives to Zion, we were like men who dreamed.

Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy.

Then it was said among the nations, “The Lord has done great things for them.” 

 The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy.

Restore our fortunes, O Lord, like streams in the Negev. 

Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy.

 He who goes out weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with him.

coffee with Fatima

Today I had coffee with a friend who rides her own roller coaster.  I happened to be on the upside of mine, but hers had crashed about five minutes before she came to pick me up.

We talked about the difficulty she was having, then as time went on we kept finding things to laugh about.  We ended up having a really good time, and she felt a lot better when we parted. 

Girls need each other.

documenting yesterday and today

Yesterday and Today

I confessed sin, though I didn’t really realized that that was what I was doing at the time.  But it brought health and freedom.  That was yesterday.

Our car has stopped holding onto the oil we put in it.  On the way to church yesterday, about two miles from our house, the dash started beeping.  Beep…beep…beep…beep.  We had never heard our car beep before, so we thought it was one of our phones.  At about the same time that I realized that the sound was coming from the dash, Larry realized that the dash was also flashing a red oil can on and off.  (In time to the beep, I’ll bet.)  The engine is not frozen (thank you, Jesus!), but Larry says it doesn’t look good.  He doesn’t know, though, what exactly is going on.  (A gravel driveway and twenty-four degrees don’t make good working conditions.)

We watched Fellowship of the Ring last night.  It fed something in my soul.

I’ve been in touch with a classmate from Friendsville High School (facebook) named Patti.  She married my next door neighbor.  We’ve been swapping family information, and I have been very touched at her kindness and earnest heart toward some of the difficulties our family has weathered.   It’s…a good feeling.  Very.

I have eaten a salad both today and yesterday.  Good.  Lately I have not eaten very healthfully.  (“Lately” equals… about a year.)

I watched the rest of a documentary on the Medici of renaissance Florence.  It was really good, and I learned a whole lot. 

I watched part of a documentary about Elie Wiesel.  The reason I only watched part of it was that…after awhile I didn’t want to watch it any more. 

Today we put a litter box, cat food, and water in Rosa and Havah’s room so that Fifi could come inside and not freeze to death–really.  All of her other winters she spent curled up in a box with Pepper, the wonderful male cat we had.  He died last spring/summer.  Fifi is old, and this week she’s been sleeping alone in an insulated plastic box in 15 degree temperatures.  We finally decided we couldn’t do that to her anymore, and tonight she made a happy home in Rosa’s room.  “Purrrrrr,” she said.

I made a big pot of Cincinnati chili today, and I also cooked about three pounds of pinto beans.  Then I remembered the twenty-pound turkey I put in the refrigerator a few days ago.  I wish I had waited on that chili.  We have loads of food.  I need to invite somebody over…when I’m not feeling like hermitizing myself.

Today I wrote a letter to our insurance company, cancelling our life insurance policies because our insurance man got us better rates on other policies.  We’re going to be spending about $100 a month less than before!  Can you imagine?!  I’m having trouble imagining, but it’s really OK.

normal! yea!!!

I had coffee this morning with a good friend who lives out of town.  It feels, as she said, safe to have a good friend who doesn’t live in your town.  It feels safe because…well, I won’t go into that right now. 

But it was a good, good time for me because we could be so real with one another.  It was especially good to hear her say the things she did.  Things that she doesn’t feel safe saying to just anybody.  Things we have in common in the mental health area. 

Sometimes (often, lately) I feel like a problem to those who love me.  My emotional/mental health is so…I can’t think of a word for it…maybe “iffy”?  My emotional/mental health is iffy.  Hmmm….well, perhaps that’s accurate.  Something between iffy, attenuated, weak, unreliable. 

I figure they think, “When is she going to get help??” or “When in the world is she going to repent???”  Or they get so used to it that…they forget.  These thoughts have been leading me to leaving honesty by the wayside again.  It’s easier to settle for life as a 3-4 and hope nobody cares to ask about it.  But…I have good people in my life who do care and who do ask.  Soooo the temptation becomes one to live life as a 5 when I really feel like a 3–just so people don’t ask and I won’t have to try (and fail) to explain.  But the truth is that acting like a 5 when I really feel like a 3 inevitably brings me down to a 1-2.  So.  That’s a bad choice.

But today I got to talk to my friend who struggles just like I do and whose child struggles more.  Somebody who knows what I deal with and doesn’t think I just need to do better.  Somebody who knows that “doing better” is something I usually haven’t the foggiest idea of how to even begin to figure out how to do. 

So my morning was good, and I walked away feeling somewhat normal–something that is rare for me.  I am not alone!  Yea!! 

Right now, I am (really) a 5.  This is pretty good.