When Your Love is...Dead

 Dear Journal,

I fell in love with him at the age of 10 or maybe 11. It's hard to be precise when love is so unpredictable. I first saw him on a deck of cards and immediately fell in love. I became determined to get his cards from the other players (clueless children) as we played the Author Game. I had no problem with the age difference or the fact that this marvelous man was longtime dead. I was intrigued. Was it his steely eyes, his strong features or the promise of romance that held my attention?   Who knows.

Later in high school, I discovered what he was all about. He was a poet and he knew about life, love and tragedy—all good experiences for a poet. I read his poems with anticipation and formed the images he proposed in my own mind.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and what… a fellow.  One of my crushes of dead men.

Thanks, Dear Journal,

Teresa

Slim Pickings...

...on my ramblings this Mon...day.

I'm determined to finish my Steinbeck book soon, The Winter of Discontent, so I can begin another of his books. May I start your work week with a little of Johnny's humor?

"The profession of book-writing makes horse racing seem like a solid, stable business." John Steinbeck

Have a great week!

Teresa

Quote: ThinkQuest 

Blame

When my son was three or four years old he was running through our house, tripped, and hurt himself. During his crying jag, he said to me, “Why did you let me run in the house? I hurt myself.”

He wanted to blame someone.

Instead of laughing at his question (because I really wanted to) I pulled him in my lap and covered his  tear stained little face with kisses and said, “Sometimes you have to decide whether you should run or walk.”

Of course, we would like to keep our children from experiencing pain, but we can’t. Instead, we step back most of the time and hope they will grow forward from experience. Wisdom gained through a journey of bumpy roads is not easily forgotten.

Have you ever said this to God, why do you let these things happen to me? I have. Human nature tends to shift blame to someone else. The art of blaming began early when Adam blamed Eve (and God for giving her to him) and Eve blamed the tempter (Genesis 3:11-14).

I don’t know exactly why God allows suffering, but, I believe he uses our experiences to perfect us for his Kingdom (2 Corinthians 4:17-18). 

“We know that God uses everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to His purpose—for them.” Romans 8:28 (NIV).

God’s plan for His children’s eternity is huge. We will live in a paradise (like no other). We will not see one more tear. We won’t have one more backache. We will see the lion lay beside a lamb without giving into his own cravings. We will live in the presence of the most pure and powerful form of love—God the Father and forever. It’s something we can only imagine.

When bad things happen, it’s understandable to say “Why are these things happening to me”. But consider this, the next time good things happen to you to try saying, “Why are these things happening to me?” It changes everything.

“Consider what God has done: Who can straighten what he has made crooked? When times are good, be happy; but when times are bad, consider this: God has made the one as well as the other. Therefore, no one can discover anything about their future.”  Ecclesiastes 7:13-14 (NIV)

Blessings ~~JW

Bible Source: Bible Gateway

Wishing

Have you ever made a wish list? Here’s one of mine.

I aspire to:

Not merely exist.

Live today.

Enjoy the current season.

Laugh at my calamities.

Race over the speed bumps.

Hear those I love.

Drink in the sun.

Run not walk.

Eat glue if I want.

Love self and others.

Forget the naysayers.

Acknowledge the unacknowledged.

Never ever stop learning.

Be!

How about you? What's on your wish list?

Rambling Monday

What's on the top shelf of your bookcase? I have photos of my babies (yes I need new frames). Of course, they have grown a bit. My son on the left (whose hair looked like a girls, but I liked it that way) will be 34 on July 4.  My daughter on the right (who got very upset with me because I kept throwing a blanket over her head to get a natural shot)  turned 29 on June 4.

They were perfect children. They still are.

Other Ramblings

 

Running through the Sprinklers

It was like running through the lawn sprinklers only not. First there’s water, then there's slip/sliding, and then splashing to stay upright. That’s what it’s like when you snake the drain to the washer (I guess I need a plumber) and forget to put the washer's hose back in the drain and walk away after starting the washer. And…you don’t notice until gallons of water are flooding your utility room.

It’s like running through the sprinklers…without the running and without the fun.

Driving in the Rain

When you put your money in the car wash money thingy (what’s that called?) you should remember to roll up your window because you will think you are driving in the rain with your window down when you feel water spraying on your shoulder.

It’s like driving in the rain with your window down…except scarier.

Granddaughterisms

“Grandma, when I go to bed every night I think about you and ask my mommy if I can come stay all night.”  Ahh!

What little 7 year old girl cleans up the playroom at her grandmother’s house without being asked and all by herself--after she and her brothers played with it seemed like all the toys? Ahh!

May your week be wonderful and without mishap, because I'm not cleaning up any more water.

Comfort

My children went through phases of being fearful of storms.  When the thunder boomed they would either run to our bedroom and wake us or call out.  Because I was determined to keep our children out of our bed (I thought I owed that to my husband) I would go sit by their bedsides with my hand on them for comfort until my child fell asleep.  Either of my children could have chosen not to be comforted, but instead they trusted me and chose to be comforted by me.

God is so close that we should feel his Holy breath upon our face. He’s not high in heaven only looking down to play us like puppets. He’s with us everywhere in everything (Psalm 139:7-12, NIV). There is no circumstance too dark or difficult that God will not go through it with us (Hebrews 13:5-6, NIV).  He is always ready to comfort.

But, for whatever reason, we may choose to reject his comfort. We may choose to feel miserable and defeated.

I heard someone say recently that she sets aside a quiet time each day without TV, people, or computers just to listen to God. It’s important to get the world’s voices out of our head in order to hear the comforting voice of our Holy Father.   

Be comforted.

The Living Dead

Dear Journal,

Know what? I forgot about the Cicadas. While mowing my .76 acres (or approximately ¾ of an acre) I like to mull over the stories that swim laps in my head. I would also like to listen to music, but the rider mower is too loud, so I think and plot.  

The other day while thinking and ploting,  I was interrupted by a Cicada jumping on my ball cap. My arms and one foot flailed about(without me screaming) and the Cicada left. My cap is green and looks worn; I bought it that way except for the sweat which has nothing to do with this post. Anyway, I had forgotten about them (the Cicadas) until one jumped on me. I prepared myself to go in the house saying phooey to keeping up with my neighbors’ yards.

Instead, I mowed on.

It wasn’t long after that another little sucker Cicada jumped on my face. I swear he was trying to kiss me. They’ve been away from society so long; I guess he just wanted a smooch. I do look pretty good in my ball cap, tank top and sunglasses. (Please never spy on me, because I might be lying.)

But, I’m not that kind of girl so I said to him NO, absolutely NOT—no kiss. You're too green and your eyes creep me out.  I pushed him off into the grass.

This is what happens when you’re a part of the living dead and you reenter society, you have no social graces.

No not me— the two Cicadas.

Thanks for listening!

~~JW

The Sky

I'd forgotten that I took this photo in between the storms on May 22, 2011. At that time, I didn't know how hard Joplin had been hit. It was an eerie sky.

What I don't want to forget, however, is how the survivors have lost so much and how they will have to rebuild their lives.

Is this Weird?

Hydrangeas

My soil's pH is confused. It doesn't know which color of Hydrangea it prefers.

Me either.




Craigslist

I don’t know why I do it because mentally I'm insulted and emotionally I’m suffering. But, I’m weak and do it again and again. I look watch the Craigslist Pets section. I get angry and sad and other things. But one thing jumped out at me the other day—a trend that is puzzling.

One good thing about the pet listing is that you can post your lost pet and some are even found and returned. I was reading one of those ads when the light bulb came on. All over Southwest Missouri, Boxers (dogs) are jumping their fences. That in itself is not unusual, but lately with sooo many boxers escaping, I’m wondering….

Where have all the Boxers gone? (Imagine this question to the tune of Where have all the flowers gone? playing in the background. Just do it!)

The photos of the missing dogs look like happy well cared for dogs, so, why are they leaving? Are they Tweeting each other? Are they a part of a Flash Mob? Will they be dancing somewhere in unison? Are they meeting to protest? Are they planning a takeover of CL?

My beloved Boxer, Suki Aki (1990-2000), jumped the fence once and plowed through it once. But, the last time she did it, Suki immediately ran to the front door and knock on it (don’t ask me with what, but my mother-in-law heard her). She and my daughter let her back in.

Suki really didn’t want to leave home for good, now did she? Of course, she didn’t have a cell phone or a Twitter account or “things” might have been different.


Confused Hydrangea bushes and runnaway Boxers. It's weird. As my sister use to say, "Some things can be explained and some things can't."

Fear

My children’s world, as children, was fairly protective. They depended on their dad and me to keep them safe, and, for the most part, we did. They had few worries unless they created them.

It was late spring and my son had just started walking when I decided to take him outside to play. I put him down in the grass and got ready to take pictures of him playing. But, he didn’t play. He became frightened of the grass and paralyzed with fear. He stood in the middle of the strange green monster that was (apparently) swallowing his feet and wailed. All the coaxing in the world (while snapping pictures of course) wouldn’t make him come to me. Fear had paralyzed my son.

Fear can be paralyzing.

Fear has its purpose in safeguarding, but a paralyzed life is stagnant and often vulnerable.

Scripture says that God didn’t give us a spirit of fear. Instead, he gave us His spirit where love, power and a sensible mind should override daily fears. “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.” 2 Timothy 1:7 (KJV)

Praying for you to live a fearless week filled with peace.

~Journaling Woman

Dear Journal, I write

Have a super weekend, everyone!

Riddled Like Bullets

Here’s something you might not know about me. I am riddled like bullets with ADD with a hint of H depending on what day it is and the weather and--whether I allow my hair be its natural curly self. You might think that has nothing to do with it. You could be right.

I’ve never been diagnosed, but I promise you I am riddled with ADD. Here’s my evidence.

My focus is broad. My creative mind flits here and there and back again. I start one thing and then start another before the other is finished. In between writing, working a job and mowing my yard (pleeeeze don’t forget I mow and trim ¾ of an acre each week, please don’t forget that) I did the following around the house:

Sewed this chair cover from three Lowes drop cloths because I’m too cheap to buy a chair cover. It’s white sort of.

Put this bead board up as a back splash in my kitchen and painted it...white.   Trust me it's pretty. I lurve it with all my heart.

Sewed these white flowing cotton curtains out of—get this, on sale tablecloths because I’m too cheap to buy curtains. Did you know I love white? Yes they are puddling. Will fix that when I get my new rods.

Made this bench for my breezeway/screened porch from my son's old waterbed drawers that was taking up storage space. My goal was to make the bench from recycling what I had on hand --not buy anything. I had the drawer frames (that I stacked), the plywood, and two brackets. But, I had to buy a package of brackets and yellow paint which cost me 12 buckaroos.

Sewed a cushion for the bench from another clearance tablecloth. It will look better when I get the back cushion done. It was an outdoor tablecloth. I’ve forgotten what that means, but I think it means it’s good to use outside.

Being cheap (my daughter called it frugal when she wrote for her blog) and poor has made allowed me to learn many useful skills. It's empowering...sort of.

I AM WOMAN HEAR ME ROAR, IN NUMBERS TOO BIG TO IGNORE. I’m just it saying it out loud. (Thanks, Helen Reddy.)

I am just a woman who uses tools (some tools) and I let THEM roar.

Really I am woman tired and in need of a vacation from my mind.

Source: YouTube-Helen Reddy

Art

Who would have thought that a simple painted blackboard wall could be the canvas for such great art through the hands of children?

I had no doubt!

 
(Please ignore my version of a turtle in upper right hand corner.)

Wise in Your own Eyes

Temper gets you into trouble. Pride keeps you there. (author unknown)

"Do not be wise in your own eyes...."  Proverbs 3:7 (NKJV)

Today, I take note.

Blessings~~ JW


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Resource: BibleGateway.com, thinkquest.com