Tag Archives: winter

Writing Spaces

It has been quiet in my writing spaces, these days. I have felt unmotivated and uninspired, and rather than just sitting with myself there, letting it be, I tend to judge it. It is not a good place.

Two weekends ago I was away with a friend. I read a lot of books and did a lot of art journaling. I wrote a little bit. I walked in the woods and by the water.

One weekend ago I was sick. I missed the entire weekend due to body aches and fever. It was all I could do to toss and turn in bed. Steve woke me at regular intervals to help me hydrate and visit the bathroom. It was miserable. There were nightmares.

Recovery is slow and takes time. I am still not at full capacity, though I am getting there. I just feel flat lined. Sometimes we can only keep taking steps. That is where I am. Stepping. One foot in front of the other.

It is a familiar space.

It is hard to be in this space.

But I am there and will continue to move through it.

Jesus met me this week in these words.

Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us. Psalm 90:15, ESV

I am holding onto them, trusting, hoping, looking forward to all of the days of gladness.

Because there will be many.

Family Chores ~ Guest Post

Chores are supposed to clean up things or do things. But when you are, like, six years old, they are plain torture. I don’t remember how old I was, but when I was little when I had to use a spray bottle to clean things, I would spray whatever I needed to spray and I wouldn’t rub it into the surface, I would just leave it there. People who went to the area wouldn’t notice because it would already be dried. That’s how I used to do chores because I was so mad I had to do that chore. But now that I’m older, and Mom  and Dad got smarter, I have to do a good job, because Mom or Dad will check the area I did the chore in, so if I did the chore wrong, they could correct me.

The chores my brothers and sisters have to do at our house : if they are supposed to do a chore because Mom and Dad decide xd : are the downstairs and upstairs bathrooms, the laundry, kitchen helper, and unloading and loading the dishwasher. The worst chore is bathrooms. I am a total germ-a-phobic : not TOO much, really. Just a little bit : so wiping the crusty poop off the toilet seat is SO gross!!! And bathrooms take forever. You also have to clean the sink, too.

The best chore is laundry because it is so easy now that I know how to do it. I don’t really like kitchen helper that much but I don’t hate it. Last but not least is dishwasher. Dishwasher is best to get when an older sibling is here. They sometimes : not all the time, don’t expect it.: do it for you. But some older siblings are lazy buns and only do it if the dishwasher is full and they NEED to wash something in the dishwasher.

Chores bite, and they are really annoying. “If you don’t do your chore, you will get a consequence. HARDY HAR HAR!” says a very annoying parent. See what I mean? Parents are always pulling the excuse, “If you’re not doing the chore, who is?”  Parents just want to get you to do chores so they can lob around eating chocolate covered strawberries watching American House-Wife or Last Man Standing. : I don’t know what parents watch these days but as you can see, I kinda have an idea.
I think a good chore system would be kids do the chores three days a week. Maybe four….. Or maybe parents and kids could go back and forth seeing who gets the extra chore day. It really bites that I have to do chores on the weekend AND the week days. I mean, why do parents make kids do that?! Chores on the weekend are hallway, the easiest, dining room, medium long, kitchen, the longest, living room, pretty long if I do say so myself.

Thanks for reading this!😄 – Anonymous

This is the Storm

Twenty-one years ago, the first week of March, I was hugely pregnant with child number two, due in ten days. Big sister was a toddler of 17 months.

Steve and I hung out Wednesday night, as usual. Nothing about our world was different. There were no expectations. I hadn’t gotten to the point in the pregnancy where I was ready to birth out a baby. Child one arrived three days early. In my mind there was still over a week to go.

We went to bed, alarm set to wake us in the morning for another day of work.

Thursday I woke and found Steve already downstairs. He was facing the sliding glass door which opened to the tiny back deck off of the kitchen. The deck was covered in many, many inches of snow.

Julie, look at this!

I think my water just broke.

That’s how it went down. I think my water just broke. Why else would I be peeing in the living room on the carpet? Excitement?!

It’s a good thing that we were planning a home birth. We just had to figure a way to get the midwife from Dayton.

tbt big snow

It’s a good thing I have slow and steady, steady and slow labors. It would be a full day before that little, wrinkly, leathery old man would make his way reluctantly into the world.

But this is the storm.

It’s a little different today. Instead of waking to the ground covered with snow, I woke to thick rain hitting the windows. Then ice pellets changing over to heavy wet flakes and back to pellets.

It’s different because back in 1994 there wasn’t access to the technology that we have today, especially in our little townhouse-apartment. No TV, internet, nothing smart, not even a newspaper. Only talk radio that wasn’t listened to all that often. Certainly no anticipation of a weather event. No chatter and buzz.

School is closed today. Entirely.

That Thursday, March 3, 1994, was the first time that Good Shepherd School closed its doors for a snow day. By Friday the sun was shining and roads were clear. That part isn’t looking as promising this year, but by the weekend, I’m guessing, clear.

So we hunker down for another snow day; one of our last, I secretly hope. I try to relax and relieve the pressure I feel building inside and remind myself that sufficient for each day is it’s evil. And this isn’t evil.

My son turned 21 on Tuesday. It feels like yesterday that I was standing in the middle of a tiny living room, looking out at the tiny back deck covered in snow, excitement and fear mounting, wondering how the day would end.

It ended with me cradling a tiny person in my arms, both of us tucked into bed for our first night together.

In the snow. In March.

I wonder what this snow day in March will bring?

Breakfast Tray

Thursday dawned a surprise snow day

And with it came a breakfast tray

And littles who promised it wasn’t a bribe

From the second half of my native tribe

For extra media or episodes

But just because they loved me so

And the food prepared was rather good

It tasted just as breakfast should

And this mom felt lots of love

For her precious treasures from above.

Shalom.

Rest Came

Rest came today in breakfast in bed, provided by Coco, Collie, and Roo. Delicious scrambled eggs and buttered toast were served for two on a tray.

Rest came today in first service and Sunday School being cancelled at church. No morning nursery duty for me and Coco, our once-a-month date with each other and little walkers.

Rest came today in a freshly-plowed street that firmly packed our cars in, causing the digging-out process to take longer than expected. No making it out in time for the 11:15 service.

Rest came today in cinnamon rolls for lunch, courtesy of Steve’s Costco run on Friday. No preparation on my part required.

Rest came today in actual sleep. A much-need, deep-sleeping nap under a fluffy lamb blanket with lots of vivid dreaming.

Rest came today in laughter with my luvvvah, the deep, belly-laughing kind about secrets we share.

Rest came today in an early supper, easy to prepare, ingredients already on hand, a glass of beer to accompany it.

Rest came rushing to me in the mess, inviting me to slow down and receive it.

So I did, and I will continue to do so for a few more hours until day is done and a new week begins, refueled and refreshed by the rest that came.

Snow on a Saturday

It’s a change of perspective, this view from my bed, propped by pillows to gaze out the windows at the falling snow.

Snow on a Saturday is a rare, beautiful thing, removing the pressure of errands and running around; encouraging true stillness and rest.

Heart and mind try to rush ahead as I focus on falling flakes of white coating the ground and overgrown honeysuckle.

Be present. Be here. Breathe in the moment.

But even moments of snowy Saturday shalom shatter, as siblings argue over episodes, nerves fray, and plans change.

Quiet reflection and introspection last all of five minutes before knocks on the door interrupt asking for any number of things ranging from help reaching a cereal bowl to permission to open the new vitamins which I mindlessly grant and then become frustrated by the fact that there are two different kinds of vitamins now in use.

So in the rest, there is also disruption. In the stillness, there is noise. In the calm, there is chaos. In the falling snow, there is invitation.

Invitation to change. To engage. To rest. To be.

You are invited to enjoy your day! I am off to be present in mine, even though things USED to be FUN around here before all of these CHORES and having to put things AWAY that we are going to need later ANYWAY.

Because even in the midst of the rest, there is work to be done. Living in the tension, I tell ya!