Tuesday, July 28, 2015

bittersweet...the stuff of life

I've always been one to read five to ten books at a time. Sometimes each and every book option looks like moldy leftovers. Like yesterday. 

I've not been functioning very well. Angry, sad, overwhelmed, indifferent...sounds lovely, right? Last night, I needed space in the worst way. Physical space, brain space, emotional space...space of all kinds. I'd call it an "introvert emergency" resembling a volcano or deep fissures and fractures beneath the earth's crust.

I hate feeling this way. I scanned my book options offered in my myriad of piles and shelves around my house. I saw this book and knew. Bittersweet. Was there a better word to describe what was happening in my heart? Some bitter, some sweet, and whole lotta overwhelmed. I'm not really into zombie literature (I just can't, I'm sorry...the adulteration of Pride and Prejudice sealed the deal), but if I were into zombies, I think I could relate with the characters. My life feels hazy.

I grabbed Bittersweet, brewed some Celestial Seasonings white pear tea and headed to my beloved front porch. I read as my porch swing swayed gently, soothing my fractious heart. The writing met me. God used her words to calm my spirit that would not settle.


So many passages spoke to my heart. I'll relay her thoughts on waves (the ocean/lake kind) which I found very timely as I wrestle with change in my life and lives around me.

"...if you try to stand and face the wave, it will smash you to bits, but if you trust the water and let it carry you, there's nothing sweeter....If you dig in and fight the change you're facing, it will indeed smash you to bits. It will hold you under, drag you across the rough sand, scare and confuse you.

"Every wave presents us with a choice to make, and quite often, unfortunately, I have stood, both resolute and terrified, staring down a wave. I have been smacked straight on with the force of the water, tumbled, disoriented, gasping for breath and for my swimsuit bottoms, and spit onto shore, embarrassed and sand-burned, standing up only to get knocked down again, refusing to float on the surface and surrender to the sea.

"There were also a few glittering, very rare moments of peace and sweetness, when I felt the goodness and familiarity of people who loved me, when God's voice sounded tender and fatherly to my ears, when I was able to release my breath and my fists for just a moment and float. And as I mine back through my heart and memories, I notice something interesting: the best moments of the last few years were the very rare moments when I've allowed these changes to work their way through my life, when I've lived up to my faith, when I've been able even for a minute to see life as more than my very own plan unfolding on my schedule, when I've practice acceptance, when I've floated instead of fought, when I've rested, even for a moment on the surface instead of wrestling the water itself. And those moments are like heaven." 

~Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet: thoughts on change, grace, and learning the hard way, p. 15, 19

I agree with Shauna: "Bittersweet is the practice of believing that we really do need both the bitter and sweet, and that a life of nothing but sweetness rots both your teeth and your soul. Bitter is what makes us strong, what forces us to push through, what helps us earn the lines on our faces and calluses on our hands. Sweet is nice enough, but bittersweet is beautiful, nuanced, full of depth and complexity. It's courageous, gutsy, audacious, earthy."

So, I guess you can say I like this book. I'm off to enjoy a rare evening of peace and quiet (meaning that I am in my house ALONE.) Can you hear the Hallelujah chorus? Well, I can't because my house has a pristine silent melody going on.

I'm most definitely not out of my funk, but God is at work. I'll pray for grace to stop fighting the waves.

Sunday, July 19, 2015

summer mish-mash

I know, you haven't heard from me in awhile. I have lots of excuses. Included in those excuses would be the words "crazy" and "freight train." A friend of ours was giving announcements at church and while welcoming everyone said something to the effect of, "Remember when all of those summer things looked like a great idea a month ago? And now it's more like, 'what were we thinking?!'" Yeah. I get that.
starting the morning right...coffee in fresh mountain air tastes better than about anything...
While I'm at it, why do house projects seem like a good idea in the summer? Some people like the process of projects. I don't. I like planning them and I like when they are finished. The rest is Purgatory and I have lines from this book running through my head.

Also, this week we said goodbye to dear friends and sent them with our love and prayers to Tokyo. It was rough. My so very sweet son wanted to cheer me up so he took me to a movie and said he would pay for the movie and whatever snacks I wanted. LOVE HIM. We saw Inside Out. SO good. I was pretty much crying the whole time (I may be a little on edge). I'm not talking silent, peaceful cry. I'm talking silent, super ugly cry. The kind that almost hurts to keep in and the kind where you're glad you are in the very back of the movie theater sitting in the dark. Cece said, "I knew you were crying." Anyway, a great family flick. My husband loved it too. He was cracking up and there is nothing I love so much as to hear him laugh.

What else? We swim, we walk, we read, we don't cook, lots of normal stuff and the days fly. Can it be near August already? We have frolicked in our mountains, kayaked, fished, hiked, ATVed. We took an impromptu detour to the Sand Dunes--spontaneity feeds the soul sometimes. This summer has walked briskly when I've wanted to stroll. We've hit hard and good, stressful and joyful. We'll take it all from the hand of God.
Am I in Africa? Not going to lie, I wished for a camel on several occasions.

Last week, I bought this book simply because it was pretty. Don't judge. I may have a new addiction to Penguin Threads. A copy in hand is even prettier than this picture can portray.


I was craving some teenage angst and grabbed The Stepsister's Tale by Tracy Barrett and Little Blog on the Prairie by Cathleen Davitt Bell. I really liked The Stepsister's Tale (Don't let the cover art discourage you, I felt it to be an inaccurate representation). I don't tire of fairy tale re-tellings, but they are not all created equal by any means. I thought this version to be unique and lovely. The story felt akin to the movie Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister which I enjoy (present tense) greatly. The movie is based on the book by Gregory Macguire which I have not read. I'll read Little Blog on the Prairie next.
free range kids...I saw visions of the Canadian frontier as they ran
The kids and I (D included) devoured When Calls the Heart (season 1). Set in the Canadian frontier, it doesn't much resemble the Janette Oke books that inspired the series, but can call itself a kindred spirit to Christy and Little House on the Prairie. We'll be watching season two shortly (FYI season one is on Netflix.) The kids haven't watched many television series and when D watched the first show and it ended in a "cliffhanger" (new vocabulary word) as shows are wont to do, he was offended. It went something like, "What!?!?" along with another exclamation about how "they" could do such a thing. I was laughing.

Ahhh, unfiltered sunset (from a moving car no less!)
I know all this is random. My brain is a little bit scrambled. Mish-mash, but an ordained mish-mash. Summer has not been what I have thought, but has held great beauty also. I pray that you all take each mish-mash day from God's hand, whatever it brings.

Saturday, July 4, 2015

This land I love...



I'm thankful. So very thankful. I sat on my front porch this morning and sipped my coffee. The temperature was rising in typical 4th of July fashion. I looked around my neighborhood and just felt blessed. I don't think our country is perfect, far from it. We are strong and we are weak, we have great spirit and vibrancy, and also great depravity. But have no doubt, we are blessed.

I specifically remember sitting in my bedroom as a young child and wondering why I was born in the United States and not in China or some other country. That's not to say that I felt my life superior in the indifferent snobbery sort of way, but I knew that life was harder--governments lacked stability and conscience, opportunities and education sometimes scarce, Christians persecuted, girls so undervalued that they were drowned in rivers. Deep thoughts for a young heart, but even then, somehow I knew. I was born to great privilege and freedom and prosperity. And I'm not speaking simply of physical materialism. I am privileged in the potential before me, I have prosperity of the soul and heart, I operate with freedom to live my life, unheard of still in many of our world's countries.

Why did God place me here and not in India or Russia or the Middle East or the thousands upon thousands of places in the world? I don't know. But I do know He doesn't make mistakes (and that goes for every person in the world). And, I believe that "to whom much is given, much is required." The gift of being born in this country is not for me to use however I see fit without thought to anyone or anywhere else. Until my dying breath, I pray I can honor and obey and love and serve God in the corner of the world He placed me. And trust His hand if He leads me elsewhere.

God Bless, America!

p.s. We saw "the real Statue of Liberty!" (as Belle says) last fall. Amazing. I would go again in a heartbeat.
view from the ferry

Freedom Tower/skyline view from Liberty Island

audio tour

Yeah, I don't know, it was bright?