{salt}

I recently discovered Pinterest. Yeah, like I needed another online distraction. However, I have found some really fantastic things on there. I've been motivated, inspired, and encouraged by an amazing array of pictures, quotes, and projects. My favorite so far, though, is a painting of the ocean with the quote: 

"The cure for anything is salt water.....sweat, tears, or the sea." 

I have it saved as the background on my laptop, and it reminds me that suffering is a cleansing process that includes peace and rest. Studies have been made of tears and sweat and it has been published that there are toxins in our sweat and tears. And because our body water is slightly salty in chemical composition, when we sweat and cry, the fluid is salty to the taste. We all know, too that the ocean is salty and that swimming in the ocean is much better on our bodies than swimming in chlorinated and heavily chemical-laden swimming pools - hence the birth of the salt water swimming pool. The calming effects of the ocean have been widely acclaimed and millions of dollars have been made and spent on sound machines to help us land-locked folk reap the stress-relieving benefits of its rhythmic pounding surf. 

I personally find my spirit a little restless when I have been away from the ocean for extended periods without vacation time. There is just something that stills my spirit when I sit in soft sand and watch the sun rise or set, with the soothing music of the waves breaking and crashing, then softly rolling up onto the shore. It is a very dynamic illustration of the ever-changing world we live in. Nothing comes to stay. It only comes to pass. The sun rises and sets independent of my feelings and needs. Watching the earth go about its business sitting on a beach, where one part of the earth meets another in a timeless repetition of what God set in motion at Creation, encourages me when my heart is feeling hopeless. I'm reminded that nothing stands still. Waters ebb. Darkness fades. It teaches me how to be wise and watch my step when things threaten to hurt my feet or knock me down, and how to batten down the hatches and ride the storm out. Goodness, I could go on and on with illustrations, but I will stop here. You get the idea. :-)

I am doing a verse by verse study of 1 Peter currently, on a personal journey to understand God's purpose for seasons of suffering. Romans 8:28 teaches me that God doesn't waste my tears. I'm learning in 1 Peter that my tears (and sweat, too!) of suffering refine my faith, and that I should rejoice and be thankful for these sufferings because of the work they allow the Holy Spirit to do within me. Since 2007, I have cried and sweat gallons of salt water over changes and challenges in my son's and my life surviving as a single parent, improving my own health, and throughout my calling to go to nursing school and get my RN. The closer I get to God, the easier I find it is to rejoice and remain joyful and at peace, even in the darkest hours. Its when I am not intentionally and strategically putting myself in His presence through prayer, reading/memorizing God's word, and not having the blessing and encourage of godly fellowship with other believers do I find myself feeling the waves of depression threatening to overtake me again. 

The bible tells me that as a believer and disciple of Christ, I am the salt of the earth. So it follows in light of Romans 8:28 (and many other verses of encouragement and exhortation) that the Lord uses tears and sweat during times of prayerful desperation or exaltation to salt the earth for His glory, never my own. What a glorious thing to think on! Let that simmer for a minute. . . .God chooses humanity - ALL of humanity - at Calvary to be His children, not because ALL of humanity FOREVER has done anything to deserve it, but because HE LOVES US. His choice had nothing to do with my choice to surrender myself to Jesus my senior year of high school. God knew at Calvary what a mess I am. How broken I am. How stubborn and prideful I can be. But He loves me anyway, and if I make myself available, will use me as a part of His purpose and plan to draw humanity closer to Him. The fact that I know what a mess I am, and God knows me better than I do, humbles me beyond description when I think about Him using me to encourage and uplift and exhort another. But that's what He does. I have seen it not only in my life, but in others' lives too. Somewhere, at some point, the Lord will bring someone who needs a slice of Victoria's experience in how Jesus led her through something so that they can get through it too. Its not about me telling them what I did, what my efforts or talents managed to do for me, but what my surrender to Jesus did and what Jesus did through me. 

Lord, let me not lose my saltiness. Yes, that means my sweat of discipline and tears of suffering may never really stop, only ebb temporarily, but I'm okay with that. Why? Because I've been blessed abundantly with disciples of Christ that shared with me a slice of their salty experiences and that encouraged me and helped me surrender to You, Father. Thank you for seasons of suffering. Thank you for challenges that drive me to my knees, praying in desperation for Your provision. I praise You for the provision You have given me and my little family, showing the world - the lost and the found alike - how powerful and loving You truly are. Lord, whatever Your plan is, wherever that takes us, I offer my life as a living sacrifice to You. I give You all my plans for myself; I lay my expectations of life, my ideas of perfection and success, at Your feet, and nail my self-driven dreams to the Cross. Father, protect my little family during times of persecution for following You. By the blood of Christ, I cover my family from all Satan's attempts to steal, kill, and destroy. I proclaim peace over my family, and intentionally devote my heart to focus on the living hope of abundant life in Christ. I confess my fear, anger, pride, bitterness, and laziness and pray for strength and boldness to fulfill the Great Commission in all areas of my life - my relationships, my health, my finances, and my spiritual disciplines. Lord, I can't do it on my own, but You can through me. I pray for eyes and a heart more like His today than yesterday. In the powerful name of Jesus I pray, Amen.

At my kitchen table

I have this farmhouse-style table I was handed down from my brother. It has white legs and a butcher-block top. I absolutely adore it. Because it has seen so much, the surface is worn and gouged in places. There are nicks in the legs and I'm missing two of the six chairs. However, all these things only add to it's charm: it has weathered three families (that I know of) and half a dozen or so relocations and the marks it's life has left behind are a testimony to it's strength and resiliency.

Presently, my table is at a friend's house. While we were forced to sell all our furniture except my son's when we moved into my mother's house due to lack of storage, somehow we managed to hold on to my table and a cabinet.

I read Hebrews 13:1-8 yesterday and verse 2 is sticking with me: "Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by doing so some people have entertained angels without knowing it."

I'm learning how to broaden my perception of serving and loving like Jesus by shaking off the misconception that modern conveniences like cars and cell phones are now a necessity to serve in the name of Jesus. And now, that list includes my kitchen table.

It's just a piece of furniture. It's not supernaturally blessed by the Holy Spirit to bestow peace in hearts by osmosis when someone sits at my table, props their arms on it to hold up the hands that are mug-hugging the cup of hot coffee, or when someone lays their head in their hands to sprinkle it's worn surface with tears of fear or frustration. Nope, it can do nothing. It doesn't have a heart or a soul sold-out to Jesus. It doesn't have arms or hands or a mouth. Yet I do have those things.....and I have my Jesus.

Has it been awhile since you were listened to? I mean really listened to? Come to my table....in my heart. Sit down. Relax. Listen to the coffee maker and smell the aroma of hot coffee beans. There's a bowl of apples on the table - they are cold because I just took them out of the fridge. But next to them, you see a small dish of Hershey's Kisses and maybe that sounds better to you....

We make small talk as I fill the small tray of coffee fixin's, and your eyes are focused somewhere in front of you, seeing but not seeing, and whispers on your heart battle for air-time like a tug-of-war between letting it all out or keeping it all inside. You see bible scriptures on the wall and those whispers find a new victim: belief in the truth of God's unconditional love. Maybe tears threaten your resolve then. Or maybe they do when you suddenly smell the pot roast in my slow-cooker as I lift the lid to check on it - it reminds you of your grandmother....Maybe what does you in is the box of tissues that is on the coffee tray I place on the table because it is an loving invitation to let go. Or maybe you manage to hold on a little longer and the dark whispers try to keep you in the dark by choosing the black coffee mug in a defiant gesture against the hope you're afraid to put faith into. Maybe it almost works and the tears are finally tucked and locked away....until you read the etching on the mug...it is Psalm 25....."guide me on your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long." Maybe that's when the tears begin to fall and you finally hear a kind voice say, "I can see you are hurting. What would you like to share about it?"

You feel safe at my kitchen table. Accepted. And loved. But it's not really a table, or coffee. It's not the chocolate or the pot roast. It's not even scriptures on the wall or on the coffee mug, and it most certainly isn't me. It's Jesus. It's the way He weaves faces and places together to love on people, give them hope, and free them from chains and shackles of heartache and pain.

Jesus can use anyone, anywhere, anytime. He doesn't require graduate school or country club memberships or six-figure salaries. All Jesus requires is a humble and obedient heart. He takes care of the rest.

So while my beloved kitchen table is not in my possession and I'm not in my own home to entertain freely, my heart is still my own. Lord, forgive me for my excuses. I shall open the doors of hospitality to my heart, and allow you to orchestrate circumstances to bring people to it that I may be a vessel of verbal hospitality where my physical circumstances limit me. Give me words of hope and love to speak, all for Your glory. Amen.

this caged bird is {SINGING}

Not having a car has some challenges in modern-day United States suburbia. Not many cities outside New England are very pedestrian-friendly or have adequate mass transit. It has been interesting and inspiring to see how creative God is in getting our needs met without a car of our own. I can't drive anyone's car in my family due to not being on their insurance, and no one really has the money to add me to their policy, so I don't even borrow a car. I've been 100% dependent on someone else to get to school, clinical rotations, the grocery store, or social and church activities. Let me tell you, this made for an interesting perspective on Thursday, my 30th birthday. 

I haven't been this dependent on another person since I was 15. Where a lack of a personal vehicle has hit me the hardest is not being able to go and visit with people that need a friendly face and some encouragement. There are 5 people that I have not been able to visit and it really bugs me. I also have had difficulties getting to church, and the ripple effect of that is vulnerable hearts and minds to Satan's attacks on our joy. What I have learned though, is that God doesn't change His mind. He gave me a spiritual gift with my powers of speaking and encouraging others. Just because I don't have a car doesn't mean I'm silenced. Just because I can't fly doesn't mean I can't sing. 

I have learned so much about accepting the soil the Lord planted you in as what is BEST for you at the moment - despite whatever expectations you might have for yourself of what is "best" for you. If it was best for me to have a vehicle right now, by golly I would have one. God's BEST for me right now is to be dependent on Him and learn how to encourage others without using not having a car as an excuse to not doing anything. 

This experience has made me examine myself further and deeper as well. What else have I used as an excuse? My mistakes? My sins? My guilt? My fears? What other barriers have I placed in my own way of being obedient to the Lord's call? Have there been other ways in which I have put myself far outside God's will because I have forgotten I am a new creation (2 Corinthians 5:17 ) and allowed the world's definitions of "useful" distort God's? God uses broken vessels all the time. Why? Because we are humble and dependent upon Him when we feel completely inadequate to the task He has laid before us. Otherwise, we'd prance around proud as peacocks proclaiming our own works instead of His. 

This mini-mester was difficult. I was uncomfortable in the clinical environment because I felt like I had to imprison the disciple of Christ that I am and conform to something I'm not. I initially did not find my fellow students enjoyable to work with, and the rest of class made me feel excluded and unwanted. I had to pray everyday (sometimes several times an hour) for God's eyes for the current situation, and for something, ANYTHING, to keep me encouraged and motivated to learn. Only by His grace and mercy am I able to report that I have not just jumped over the hurdle that felled me this spring, but I've done it with flying colors: I made an A on the final exam, and received an A for the final grade in mental health nursing. I made some new friends after it was all said and done, and while it feels surreal still that I am officially moving past the second semester courses, I give all the praise and glory for this achievement to my Jesus. There isn't a moment that I wasn't in some way leaning completely on Him and it was His strength working through me that I was able to do all I needed to do to meet the demands of my classes and still have something worthwhile left over to give to my husband and son. 

Our God is mighty to save! He is indescribably amazing in His power to help you overcome whatever mountain you are having to climb, valley you are having to crawl through, or storm you are having to weather. I can't tell you how freeing it has been to let go of my pride and fear and say time and time again, "Okay, Jesus. My family and friends are gonna think I'm nuts, and I'm scared to death but I'm facing that fear and squishing my pride and asking you to help me with _____." It has been freeing because all it took was one time for me to "let go and let God" and see Him do something powerful and impossible by human standards for me to keep turning to my Heavenly Father in faith. Each time I do let go and turn to Him, my faith gets stronger and stronger and waivers less and less like a ship on the sea being tossed about by waves of doubt ( James 1:6 ). My experiences give me boldness to pray and humbly proclaim His greatness, and also peace in my heart that somehow God will provide. My faith in Jesus is all that is necessary.  

So, I sing. I sing with joy. I sing because I am free. I sing because my Jesus doesn't have material prerequisites of this world for me to serve Him. All He requires is my faith. I sing because I am dearly loved. I sing with love. Yes. Oh, yes. Even without a car, I sing.

making {changes} 9/15/11

So I'm officially almost half-way through the semester. In two weeks, my psychosocial nursing class will be over! I can hardly believe how the time has flown. We are still getting settled, and in fact, we are still moving things in. This weekend should be the last of it, but due to a number of factors, we haven't had the time or the manpower to get it done any sooner. I'm usually very efficient at moving, so this relocation has been a great source of anxiety for me since I was unable to do much to help since I have been buried in schoolwork. I will sleep much easier once its all finished. 

We have had to make a number of changes in response to our relocation, but the biggest ripple to contend with now is lack of transportation. Our only car broke down on the 10th and we had to sell it since we were unable to afford to make the necessary repair work. We prayed through the decision, and the next morning listed my car on Craigslist and released it to the Lord, praying for His will, not ours. If the car didn't sell, we'd fall back and collect ourselves and pray through the next step. Well, it sold. FAST. In less than 15 minutes in fact. 

When my car broke down, my husband was immediately frazzled. I laughed. Not out of some bizarre coping mechanism attempt, but because I was truly amused. It was this time in the semester this spring when my car broke down and I had to drop psych nursing. Not gonna happen again. Praise the Lord, a dear friend in the program recently moved closer to me and he quickly offered to pick me up for carpooling, AND my clinical assignment is two miles from my house so my dad can pick me up and drop me off. However, in the moment, I wasn't thinking about any of that. I laughed at Satan's attempt to destroy my peace and joy because I trust my God that much. God will provide all we need; He knows better than we do what we need anyway. I knew I had nothing to fear - I was in my Father's loving hands. 

I have absolutely no idea what God's purpose is for this season of my life. I haven't a clue what kind of nursing I want to work in. My Heavenly Father has tenderly and lovingly broken me of my arrogance and pride; it isn't for me to decide what is best for anyone or anything. Including myself. It is up to me to be humble and obedient. It is up to me to stay close to my Father through prayer and reading His word. And what I find when I actually do that is how amazingly at peace I feel with whatever my circumstances are. 

a time for everything

And everything in its time. . . 

Sometimes we outgrow the soil God plants us in, and He must transplant us into other soil better suited for our growth. A dear friend shared that with me recently.

Since my last post, a great deal has occurred in the geographical sphere of my life. Due to many contributing factors, we have to move and relocate back into my parents' home.

I was grieving the path my family's life was turning towards, refusing to admit that it could have anything beneficial in store for my family. She became a valiant, humble, and faithful prayer warrior for me, covering my marriage, motherhood, and academic responsibilities in prayers for wisdom, discernment, and encouragement no matter what God's will has in store. When the fullness of this illustration hit me (which I confess was not the same day she sent it to me, but in fact came a full 48 hours, one argument with my husband, and a full-fledged southern-girl crying fit later), my tender Heavenly Father brought me to this Psalm: 

"He brought me out into a spacious place;
   he rescued me because he delighted in me."  ~~ Psalm 18:19 

I do not get to determine what is "spacious" for me. It is arrogant to assume that we know better than God what spacious soil is for us, or even if we ourselves are fertile soil to His Word. The Creator of all there was, and is, and yet to come determines all of that. The illustration my friend sent me has caused me to recall the many years I've watched my mother spend tending her garden. Countless hours she toiled over dirt and seeds and little green sprouts, tirelessly coaching them through the stages of growth in preparation for their season of bloom and harvest. The seedlings were certainly safe in the confines of her little patio greenhouse, in the little boxes in which she planted them, where the scorching sun couldn't burn them or relentless rain drown them. However, no matter how safe, no matter desirable the conditions were, they needed the very things that could kill them because most of all, they needed room to grow. They weren't meant for safe, little plastic trays. They were meant for spacious places to take root so they could grow, flourish, and bear fruit.

 

I've watched her transplant her little green sprouts into gradually larger containers, thinning out clusters of the little things so they could thrive and not strangle each other. Some plants survived the transplantation and thinning out process - our respective tomato gardens are a living illustration! Many cherry tomato plants this spring survived the transplanting down at my house. Not many of hers survived. Bowlfuls of tomatoes compared to the half-dozen or less hers has produced. We have laughed at the difference a little dirt can make.

My life this year has been a transplanting process. I've been brought out of safety, transplanted into different soil to grow, and now its time to be transplanted again - back into the very soil my loving Heavenly Father uprooted me from. It's painful. My Creator and faithful Gardener has thinned out my life, removing the things and people that strangle my joy and peace with pride, greed, and fake Christianity to reveal exactly what soil conditions are required for my growth so that my life - not my own efforts or my words - bear fruit for the Lord Jesus. 

I have learned how to abide in the arms of my Savior Jesus when the sun threatens to burn me alive, the cold threatens to stop my heart, and the rain threatens to fill my lungs and drown me in misery. I've learned how to breathe Him in when I can't breathe for myself. I've learned how to pray for His heart when my flesh screams to be heard and put someone in their place. I've learned how to serve and love the very people that have shattered my heart over and over again. I've learned how to line up my expectations with my reality so I can serve and love people unburdened by crushing disappointment. 

The most beautiful thing I have acquired though isn't wisdom, discernment, or Biblical history t. It isn't the knowledge my collegiate transcript testifies to, or the battles I have fought and won with my health. It isn't "surviving singleness" and finally getting married. I have been journaling many years now, and for approximately the last year or so my closing prayers include a petition: a heart more like Jesus tomorrow than today. Little did I know what was growing inside me. . .

While I could spend hours sharing my experiences of God's provision, what brings me to tears is the opportunities I've had to share how I have managed to stay afloat amidst numerous emotional trials in my relationships with people: a heart like Jesus. Only the One that died for me is able to come into my heart, heal all the wounds, and love people despite the mountains of reasons not to. Only, only, only Jesus. The little seed my prayers planted inside of me has grown and caused me to have to be transplanted time and time again. And now that I'm aware of what has enabled me to endure and love anyway is His love inside me, it now follows that it is time to be transplanted again so I don't overgrow my little pot and suffocate in complacency and comfort. I have to be planted in a spacious place, in specific place, to grow and glorify my Lord and Savior. 

Someday my growth process may not be so visual. Someday my husband will have a home of our own, and "transplantation" will not include cardboard boxes and packing tape. Until then, I have finished fighting, resisting, and crying like I've been doing. Fighting what is necessary is frustrating and futile. It's like standing on an escalator and refusing to look at the disappearing steps approaching. It robs me of peace. And I want peace, I need peace like I need oxygen. I need my Jesus. 

I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength. 

~~Philippians 4:11-13

being still

My husband has been busy these past few days with employment opportunities. Suddenly the landscape of available jobs is no longer sparse and dry, but showing signs of lushness and life. He had an interview yesterday, and is following up on three establishments today which he had called yesterday. It's been so hard for him this year going on interview after interview. We've been praying for God's best, however. And His best isn't just laying around, easy to come by. God's best is special. Set apart. If finding His best were easy, we wouldn't need Him because we could find it on our own. Finding things on our own, through independent endeavors and striving in our own strength, is opposite of the relationship our Heavenly Father desires to have with us.

The New International Version of the Holy Bible is the most published version of the Bible in the world. Most everyone has seen the first line of Psalm 46:10 on hospital walls, email signatures, or Facebook posts. It says "Be still and know that I am God." Stillness is the physical act of not moving. An online dictionary gives the following definitions:

1. remaining in place or at rest; motionless; stationary: to stand still.

2. free from sound or noise, as a place or persons; silent: to keep still about a matter.

3. subdued or low in sound; hushed: a still, small voice.

 

I've often quoted Psalm 46:10 in my head when I catch myself in all my Type-A-single-mom-psychosis-control-freak glory, tirelessly trying to manipulate my circumstances to get something accomplished. I then move myself to my knees, tirelessly praying, my mind and spirit all aflurry. There is absolutely nothing wrong with praying frustrations out. Yet what I was doing was turning my physical striving outside-in, and internalizing all that activity. I had the appearance of stillness, but on the inside, I was striving nonetheless.

Yesterday hubbz and I were trying hard not to let Satan enslave our minds and hearts with discouragement. Our conversation led us to recalling the image of Jesus walking on the water in the storm, reaching out to Peter to join him. Instead of sinking in the world's sea of worry and doubt, we chose to stare our Savior's feet, where the water still beneath Him, and keep our gaze where He is, not on the tumultuous waves around us. No matter how crazy it seems. No matter how zealously evil tries to sell us fear and anxiety about our finances, even through well-intentioned friends and family. Jesus asked Peter for blind faith. The faith Peter showed by stepping out of the boat would never have been manifested if the waters were calmer. Faith in the storm lays a firm foundation in our memory so when future storms arise, we can recall His love, faithfulness, strength, and provision. Without faith like Peter exemplified in His first step out of the boat and the focus he kept on his Savior, we will inevitably sink like he did in the waters of turmoil beneath our feet.  (see Matthew 14:22-33 )

I love the New American Standard Bible. A dear friend in my womens' Lifegroup (i.e. Sunday School class) described the feeling it gave me perfectly: "It sings to you." Indeed it does. The NASB version of Psalm 46:10 gives a vibrant picture of God's call to our hearts.

"Cease striving and know that I am God"

Ceasing to strive calls my spirit to be still. How often have we sat in a room of crowded people still and silent, but were actually screaming on the inside? Oh, how I've been there. . .

In less than 30 days, our financial position will be considerably less precarious due to my financial aid refund from my university. I've been in this position before, too. In January of this year, I found myself in the midst of a storm trying not to take my eyes off Jesus and sink in the waters below me that were thirsting for my defeat, with a mere 30 days between where I stood and relief from the burdens I carried. All Jesus wanted me to do then was give my burdens to Him. I did then out of survival and the Lord took care of me and the yoke of Christ was indeed a much lighter load to bear. So now, hubbz and I find it easier to cast our cares upon Him (1 Peter 5:7 and Psalm 55:22 ), decide to be still in our efforts, and choose to cease striving in our spirits. It makes no sense to the world and the people we know that don't know Jesus. In fact, it drives them crazy with speculation and judgement. Quite honestly, we don't really care what they think. As long as our Father in Heaven is honored, we have little use for worldly views of success and failure. Our family of believers hug us and pray for us and give us priceless words of encouragement and affirmation, while we all watch God rain down manna from the heavens and meet our every need. All His love and the love He sends through His other children in Christ make it so easy to be at peace and still before Him inside and out.

Thank you Father, for your Son. Being still in this storm would be impossible without Him. Amen.

I could sing of Your {love} forever!

God answers prayers folks. Maybe not the way you imagined He would. Definitely not always the way you ask Him to, but oh yes. He answers them. 

Yesterday I needed encouragement. He sent it in the form of my friend Ed from school. Little did I know, but while I was tapping my frustrations out on here my beloved husband was chatting with Ed and made dinner plans for that evening. I was hot, tired, and emotionally bankrupt. However, I went along with it because my good manners wouldn't allow me to cancel. 

The evening turned out to be exactly what I needed. Ed walked in the door with two cheesecakes (exponentially therapeutic in and of themselves!) and enough words of encouragement and affirmation to not only get me through the next 30 days until my student loan refund, but to get my attention focused higher than my circumstances. My husband and Ed laughed and traded stories and uplifted my spirits. By the time hubbz and I waved goodbye to our friend, I felt a renewed sense of dedication to my education. 

Today we got to spend the day with some dear friends. They are very musical, and perform every Sunday at church. I mentioned to my friend that I wanted to learn how to play guitar this fall and BAM! I remembered her hubbz plays guitar! He agreed to teach me this fall, and when he joined us later, he brought his guitar and taught me my first chord (D major). While the kiddos played he was walking around strumming, and they sang a couple of worship songs. One of them is called, "I Could Sing of Your Love Forever." Listening to my friend's voice lilt and swing with her husband's guitar in harmony and worship was an audible illustration of my thankful heart. 

 For now, this is the path that I know I'm supposed to be on, and these are definitely the people my family and I are supposed to be surrounded by. After graduation? Who knows. Until then, Lord I will sing of your love. Thank You for answering my prayer with such precious people. I'm so very, very blessed.

{refocus}

I've been feeling lately like I've been looking at my life through something hazy, something that is obscuring the panorama before me. The landscape of my life has changed. I'm no longer a single parent; I have a wonderful husband to share my life with now. The first false truth I debunked going from single to married was that being married was most assuredly not easier. It's just different. I truly expected it to be easier. Not that marriage isn't beautiful, that having a love that has no ceiling to keep it from growing into the stratosphere and beyond is without a doubt breathtaking, but is not easier. The whole "two is better than one" thing has responsibilities. So does being single and parent to boot. I could go on, but I would digress too far into a topic miles away from where I'm headed today.

Being a wife now changes my prayers dramatically. It changes everything. The hopes and dreams I had as a single parent were born from a heart that dared not include a husband. An entire life I built in my head without any room for a husband, as it turns out. Now, not only has the landscape changed before me, but so has the light shining down upon. I can't get a clear view of anything. I find myself squinting and squeezing the eyes of my heart tightly only reopen them to find the same fuzzy, mottled scene before me. 

I confess I'm no longer at peace with the road I'm on, that the direction my life was taking before marriage is the right path for me to be on. Not that I don't love what I'm doing, but I'm mature enough in my faith to know that just because a person loves what they are doing doesn't necessarily mean that it has the Lord's stamp of approval. I can't help but wonder if all the struggling we're going through is the result of forcing our square dreams into God's round hole of His will. . .

After sharing my feelings with hubbz (translation: I southern-girl-snotted for about 15 minutes on his shoulder), and given the current circumstances we are faced with in our life right now, we are dedicating our prayer life to revelation of God's will for our marriage and family. No matter what that means, or what road it takes us down. We know God is walking before us and behind us. All He asks is that we trust the water He's walking on, no matter how torrential the storm is around Him. And I do. And we will. I just need to refocus. Not horizontally. . .but vertically.

Moody blues :o)

One of my many projects I've been working on this summer in my home has been my bookshelves. Here is a "before" picture. . .it's the only one I have in our house, from a fun night we had when the power went out in a rain storm. :-)

These shelves are solid pine, and painted black. I bought them at my local Garden Ridge. I also have the matching coffee table and TV stand - both purchased black. I was in a very modern-monochromatic phase in my early twenties. I've hated them for years now, but never felt motivated to do anything about them. The only reason I hung onto them is because they were solid wood. However, in our home, the visual effect of black shelving was dark and depressing. We decided to incorporate our love for the beach and the ocean into our home, weaving its hues and mood-soothing elements beginning with the shelves. 

Thomas' dad gave us some blue paint to paint his room - three different shades of blue from Sherwin Williams. I fell in love with one blue (its label said Blue Hat) and painted the small shelf and finished our "PRAY" sign above our prayer wall, and one black laminate shelf/drawer combo. We then brought the sign to the Sherwin Williams store to match it to a deeper blue in the same color. Mr. Sherwin Williams guy was fantastic and zoomed in lighting fast and found it and we purchased the little $5 sample jar. I fairly bounced back to my car!

It took almost two weeks to finish the shelves between playdates, errands, and preparing for my mother's GI surgery this past week. I finally got the last coat painted on the tall shelf in my new deeper blue yesterday morning. In the before picture, you can see the ridiculous textbook collection on the tall shelf. I decided that since I was homeschooling Thomas this year, we needed to have a more central location for all things educational - the only room left is the dining room, where I usually end up spreading out with my nursing school stuff. 

My #1 goal in my home is to create a soothing environment for my busy family and a welcoming place for friends and extended family to relax. A refuge for the senses and a delightful place to fellowship and make memories. To achieve this, de-cluttering and grouping like things together is key so the brain doesn't have to work to make sense of it all - it can just soak it in and focus on what matters most: the people and relationships. 

Here is my finished product: Ta-da!!! I will edit post to include pictures of the other two shelves, so stay tuned!

Nursing school books have been relocated to the dining room where they will be placed in low, shelf/bench (I'm thinking EXPEDIT from Ikea). I have a ridiculous shell collection, which with a dear friend's help, was pulled out of my bedroom and repurposed for living room decor. I also found a fun little fish-shaped glass plate at my favorite Salvation Army store and arranged some smaller shells on, which can easily be relocated if small children visit. (I've since moved the lamp cord so it is less visible)

I ditched a dark, espresso stained desk I had in my dining room because it wasn't deep enough. It had turned into a clutter catch all, so I sold it on Craigslist. I then moved a Freecycle desk I painted white from the living room (I was using it as a sewing table) into the dining room in a corner. Dining room pictures coming soon. . .but the effect in both rooms is breathtaking to me! Lighter, brighter, and more spacious! Hubbz and I spent the evening watching a movie and marveling at how much more relaxing it made us feel to have the shelves completed and the clutter gone. aaaaahhhhhh. . . .

while I'm waiting...

Mom is at the hospital, and just getting out of surgery. My husband and I decided to stay the night at their house and take care of their dogs since Dad will be with her overnight. While I don't necessarily mind, its easier to stay occupied since my house is a disaster area right now. We are rearranging some furniture and painting bookshelves so right now there are piles of stuff EVERYWHERE on the floor. My husband is ready to just throw it all in a closet, but alas, his love for me outweighs the temptation. Or so I keep telling myself. . .he was making faces at the dining room this morning. Hmmmm. . .

Truth is, while most of our activity occurs 12 or so miles north of where we live, I'd much rather be there. Oh, well. While I wait to go home, I will make the best of it. There's plenty to distract me from looking at the clock, like text my friend and see if she's ready for us to come over. :-)

technologically impaired

Wow, it has been FOREVER since I've been here. . .my laptop cord needed to be repaired, so I've been without extended computer access. It was very difficult at first, but God kept me busy. I've been spending my summer so far with my teenage in-laws and my girlfriends and their kids on regular rotation. My backdoor has been a revolving door of activity of little feet and swimming gear and hungry adolescent tummies. There have been movie nights, campfires with S'mores, pancake breakfasts, and sleepovers. While there have been days where we had to stay home due to an empty gas tank, once we settled into the day at home it was a wonderful relief to not have to drive anywhere (especially since my car has no A/C since the wreck this spring). My only complaint is that I always seem to be one or two seats short for whatever adventure we are taking next. I find myself looking longingly at minivans instead of trucks. . .

Its been challenging, too. Mostly because I've had to adjust to all the free time. About a week ago, sleeping in and low productivity got on my nerves. So, I'm back to 8pm bedtimes and 5am mornings. Its felt more like me than I've felt in awhile. A year ago, I was in the best shape of my life - due to hard work and discipline. Yeah, my old friend "discipline." She's been on the shelf too long. I've had to dust off "discipline" and reintroduce myself to her. I'm still me, but some things have changed. Every morning, a fresh list gets written on the chalkboard in my kitchen - 5 things or less. Its a slow start, but its making a difference. Jesus is helping me everyday remember who I am in Him. Though I get restless without my classes, its not too long before blessings in the shape of family and friends remind me of how special this summer break really is, and how very much I needed it.

Well, tonight is karate for T-man at church, so I'd better get a move on. Hope your summer nest has been as blessed as ours. : -)

Finally summer

Aaaaah. It's finally summer!

I'm on a mission to make over my house on the inside. I have jars and jars of seashells and its my intention to spread them all over the house and fool my senses into thinking we're at the beach. . .as long as we don't look out the windows. :-) I have a palette of blue paint I'm going to use to repaint my black bookshelves, and huge piece of blue fabric I'm going to sew into more valances for the living room and dining room. It's going to be delightful!

Today was my son's end-of-the-year party at school. Kind of bittersweet. But I must confess, I'm very much looking forward to a break from the commute to his school. It was a wonderful party, and we had tons of fun! I have a very tired little boy who has been napping for about 2 hours now. He drank about 3 cups of water before he finally zonked out. The rest of us are relaxing under the ceiling fan watching Chronicles of Narnia, sipping peach sweet iced tea. *sigh* I do love summer....

A week of Wacky Wednesdays and a confession

I've had about a week of Wacky Wednesdays and its been truly beautiful. Jesus sent my family angels last week, and we've been very busy! Prayers have been answered all around me and my family in our little part of the universe, and we've been humbly and joyfully trying to keep up and praise God all along the way. More on my angels later. This morning, my spirit is on fire and I just have to get it all out before the fire dwindles inside of me from the trappings of the earthly responsibilities I am tied to no longer wait for my attention. 

I must begin with a confession. Earlier this year I stepped into the world of clinical depression after spending an entire Thursday night sobbing into the early hours of morning and walking into class the next day to a failing grade on an exam. That day I had the first panic attack I have had in almost a decade as I walked myself across campus to one of my most beloved professors and fell to pieces in her office. I knew what she would tell me but I needed to hear it: Its time to get help. So I did. 

The next few weeks were excruciating. I had to dig the semester out of the dumpster my depression had put it in academically, while digging open wounds too long neglected in the darkest caverns of my soul and getting used to the medications I was prescribed to manage the crippling anxiety attacks and crying jags. By the time the second half of the semester began, I was just beginning to feel like I was keeping my head above water and could breathe a little easier. However, a new class was beginning - Psychosocial Nursing. I was actually looking forward to this class because of my psychology background and the new dimension of the human condition the nursing perspective would bring. However, my first week of clinical rotations left me feeling very vulnerable. 

I could see the pain in the people's eyes vividly. Years of heartache and suffering showing lifetimes upon lifetimes on their faces and bodies, making them appear eons older than they really were. My heart bled for them as they shared the stories of their battles with addiction. Jesus showed me time and time again the frailty of the human soul. One of the counselors put it very clearly: Each one of us is one phone call, one event away from any one of these people. No one is immune. Pain can do this to anyone. 

I was assigned to the adolescent unit my first week. While my own battle with depression made me feel totally inadequate in any therapeutic role, with them I felt a little more confident in my abilities. At least I had some life experience behind me I could share with them, some wisdom I could offer from my own mistakes in addition to my textbook knowledge. 

I had a couple of amazing "God appointments" before I had to drop the class, but one young man stands out because of the wisdom he imparted to me that finally came to full recognition today. I will call him Carl. 

Carl is a 17 year old young man who has been in and out of the adolescent unit several times for suicide attempts. Carl is a cutter. He feels such immense amounts of pain he is unable and incapable of expressing verbally. Instead, he uses knives, razor blades, and the like to cut his own flesh to physically relieve the pain he feels on the inside. Carl is incredibly intelligent, well-spoken, and very well-read. You can see he has been gifted with creativity in his books, music, and clothing. I'm told each time he as come to the facility, he looks different - his hair, style of clothing, etc. Carl struggles with his identity, and feels misunderstood by all who surround him. 

My last day of clinical he made a powerful statement in group. "I wish people would realize that cutting is an addiction."

This morning, a cannon went off inside of me after reading the story behind a non-profit organization I found about a month ago. Read it here . I had read 1 Corinthians 13:1-3, which speaks of love being the center of all that we do, otherwise all our efforts mean nothing. They amount to nothing. Love is always the answer. 

Addiction sucks. I battled addiction to cigarettes, using them to "relax" me when I was upset. I still battle when things get tough. Its hard to pass the gas station on days when it seems Satan is throwing everything he's got at me and my joy. But my God is faithful. His love exemplified on the Cross is evidence of His unconditional love. My redemption through Jesus Christ is, too. 

I confess love has not always been at the center of my efforts. Lord, please forgive me of my self-love. Father, I love You. Show me how to love the unlovable. Show me how to write Jesus' love on the arms of the broken, bleeding, and desperate. In the powerful name of Jesus I pray, Amen.

Whew!

I took my pharmacology final exam this morning - school is out for the semester! I get a brief break, then summer classes resume after Memorial Day. 

My brain is numb and my plan is to do as little thinking as possible for the rest of the day. I'm perusing all things beach-inspired online - anything that has to do with the ocean, sand, and sun. My plan is to turn my quaint little home into a beach-style cottage. Goodness knows I have enough shells I've collected over the past few years to decorate the whole house! 

I've been painting what I can white, and plan on sewing and repurposing a light blue tablecloth into valances for my living and dining rooms. I found a wonderful desk on Freecycle that I'm going to turn into a sewing desk. I already started to paint it, but its going to need primer. The white paint has turned a cream color from the stain underneath. *sigh*

Time to go now. I have to go pick up my kiddo :)

Come what may

You know how women talk about their "pre-pregnancy" jeans? Well, I have my "before-nursing-school" jeans. Actually, I have a whole list of "before-nursing-school" things! Yet, the only thing I miss are my jeans. . .

Here is a picture of my husband and I about a month before we started dating. We were just friends (no really. I wasn't the least bit interested in dating him. Or so I kept telling myself.) and I asked him to accompany Thomas and I to a Braves game. Single mom and all, I thought it would be wise to bring someone along, and since he got along so well with Thomas, I thought it would be fun.

 Here is another picture of my friend Kimmie and I. 

Those jeans are a size 12 and that belt? Yeah. It was the only thing keeping them on myself. If I didn't wear a belt, they didn't stay up.

I was in the gym 5 to 6 days a week, doing cardio in the morning (I lived with my brother and his wife, so I wasn't leaving my son home alone. No need to call DFCS.) and weight lifted in the evenings with a great friend and personal trainer, Greg. It was a small gym, and my son would come along, do some schoolwork or watch a movie on a portable DVD player I got on Black Friday. When he got bored, Greg and a couple of the guys would do "push offs" with him. He would drink a chocolate milk while I chugged a Muscle Milk Light afterwards and say, "Yeah, Mommy - we need our protein!" I was in the best shape of my life! However, despite Greg's humble heart keeping me focused on my health, I became a victim of my vanity. Life got tough. I got arrogant. I slipped on my physical and nutritional discipline for silly reasons and expected my body to withstand it. Fast forward 6 months from this picture (taken April of 2010) to mid-terms last fall - my first semester of nursing school. I hadn't worn those jeans in almost two months. 

 By Christmas, I had to buy new pairs of jeans - two sizes larger. I was devastated. The toll of nursing school - mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually - had amounted to a 30lb weight gain. Dude, I'm short. That is A LOT of weight. Here is us this Easter. 

 Once I saw this picture, I knew it was time to get a hold of my health. Stephen and I are working together this May on getting our health back on track. His family history of severe high blood pressure looms overhead, and he also feels the effects of the weight he's gained. While searching the internet for something we can do together, I found two websites: Sisterhood of the Shrinking Jeans and their May Your Way Challenge and The Couch to 5K Running Plan. I also found The One Hundred Push Up Challenge which he is super excited about. Me? Not so much. But a little healthy competition never hurt anyone, right? Yikes. 100 push ups. He's lucky I love him so much. ;-)

Day One: I did the C25K (Couch to 5K) week one this morning. Very humbling. A year ago, I would have been halfway through it before I started even sweating. By the end of the first 60 seconds, my lungs were screaming "STOP!" which fortunately was at just the right time for the 90 second walk phase. It was tough, but not too tough. Just tough enough to keep going. The little track I was on is surrounded by trees and honeysuckle and is actually quite pretty. No one else was on it, so I found myself praying out loud during my "recovery" walks, praying God's word back to Him, repeating Scripture to myself, reinforcing the Truth of His word with every step. By the time I finished, I must say, I was thrilled. But the best part was what happened when I finished. At the exact point I finished was a tree with the most beautifully fragrant, teeny white blossoms shaped like stars. As I took my final step, a gust of wind blew and I was showered with white stars. I couldn't help but close my eyes and look up and savor the feel of the delicious-smelling confetti from God fall on my cheeks. My Heavenly Father was cheering me on, and celebrated my finish with me. 

Come what may, I'm getting healthy again. Not for my vanity, but to honor God with taking care of the only body He gave me; and not my way or in my own strength, but His way - strengthened, encouraged, and under-girded by the power of the Cross of Jesus Christ. 'Cause really, Jesus is all I need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me. (Philippians 4:13)

I love my mommy :)

As iron sharpens iron,
   so one person sharpens another.
Proverbs 27:17

My mother is just plain awesome. Our relationship isn't perfect, we have definitely had our rough patches. However, surviving the storms of life with someone makes a relationship stronger. We've certainly survived some storms of life together, and also some of our own making. Humbleness and love are key in mending relationships. Sacrificing self and pride are instrumental in healing hurts between people so relationships may strengthen in trust. God used her a bunch this week!

I'm very excited to say that she has graciously added to my fabric collection with some adorable red, white, and blue prints and has also given me a can of white paint so I can get to repainting some of our furniture!  She also showed me some of her latest finds for her own kitchen. "You inspired me," she told me. Me? Really? Wow! And here I was basking in the inspiration she gives me. It sure is nice to have someone to share all this with, and to be "sharpened" by. :-)

Praying you have some iron to sharpen up against this week! God bless you and your nest!

It's in the genes...

I'm the talker in my family. I know, I know. Shocking, isn't it? ;-)
Well, my mother has been reading my ramblings, and the blogging bug has bit her too! We truly are a family of Irish story-tellers. I helped her this morning set up her blog. Take a peek and leave her some love. Click here. I'm sure you'll notice the similarities pretty quickly. 

Wacky Wednesday

Wacky Wednesday!!! Time for my attention-span to be set free from its bondage of focus! I guarantee there will be more on my ramblings below in future blogs. :-D


 It's official - we are homeschooling Thomas for kindergarten! After much prayer and deliberation, and a God-sent afternoon with a wonderful single mom of FOUR boys she homeschooled, it was clear to me that this is the direction meant for Thomas and our family.  

 My itty bitty Focus is on its last legs. My wreck in early March blew out the A/C, but nothing else. Now the poor little thing is having problems with spark plugs and fuel injection and something my husband said about an "air-flow sensor." Not big items to repair, but there just isn't the money to fix them right now. I'm concerned about it, but I'm not losing any sleep. God knows my car is vital to our lives. God isn't surprised its not running well. God knows what we need. He will provide. 


I got all my classes set up for summer and fall. I am VERY excited that my nursing research class is this summer instead of the fall. While research can be tedious at times, I do enjoy it and it will be good to have it to focus on during the summer and not having to balance it with psych-social nursing and clinicals. 

Our annual family beach trip this year is to Pensacola, and we're camping! We have a two-man tent (Dad got it for FREE and gave it to us! I simply adore FREE.) and the trip is going to cost us next to nothing. My parents and brother and his family are renting a cabin. My husband and I are pitching our tent right across from the beach on Peridido Bay. It is going to be like a honeymoon for us and I just can't wait!

I got to dig in the backyard with my husband, son, and future step-sister-in-law (did you catch that?). I was hoping to find cool stuff like he did. Nope. I found a rusted distributor from a 50's model car. Yay. *sigh*

My friend Shayna is just plain awesome. She is so talented with so much! Check out her photography here. 

My husband and I are praying about starting our own business. I'm jazzed about it, but we'll see what Jesus has to say about it. . .

Okay, I think I'm done rambling for today. :-) Hope you have a wonderful, wacky Wednesday too!

Bearing fruit

I have a garden! My garlic and zucchini have made their debut.

 

 
Nevermind the little weed leafies. I'm weeding those out tomorrow! The big leaves are the ones that count. :-)

Onto my next discovery: I have a pomegranate bush! I was all set to pull out this scraggly shrub next to my driveway because it is EXACTLY where one would open the door to get out of the car. 

Where it is placed, I can't park two cars at the end of my driveway side by side because the driver on the left would be stuck in the car. I asked the landlord if I could take it out, he said it was perfectly okay with him. After that, in my mind the ugly thing was already gone. I no longer saw it or paid any attention to it. Until about a week or so ago.  

It started budding these strange things that looked like some kind of crazy orange pepper. When I suggested such, my husband laughed at me, and said that we'd just pinch a piece off and bring it to my mother to see if she could tell us what it is. He assured me it was absolutely NOT a pepper though. Hmph. 

So, we brought a bud over once it blossomed into this five-petaled, papery bloom. Yeah. She didn't have a clue. So we spend thirty minutes on Google Images searching the term "orange flowering shrub bud," sifting through a hundred or so images of orange flowering shrubs. I finally arrived at an image that sort of looked like what I had in my hand, so I clicked on it. Turns out, its a pomegranate bush!

My jaw dropped! The fruit ripens from the base of the bud. It swells at the bottom into the big giant fruit you see at your local grocer or farmstand. The fruit usually ripen from August to September. I'm super excited!!!


I couldn't help but remember an article I read in January from InTouch Magazine, titled "Ripening for Harvest." (Do not nitpick my citations please LOL - between my literature, psychology, and nursing classes, I have all my rules mixed up!) Read the article here. The gist: every season is important for bearing fruit. Fruit doesn't ripen all year. Apple trees don't bear apples in December, pumpkin vines in May. At the time, I was in a deep winter. Cold, dark, lonely and no end in sight. My brain knew that it wouldn't last forever, but it was a daily (and at times hourly) battle with my heart to remain hopeful. God's promises often were repeated like a mantra, if only to try to try and breach the infinite chasm between my heart and mind. God seemed so far away (or so Satan wanted me to believe) and when I read this article, the sun managed to break through the clouds just long enough to warm me up enough to keep praying faithfully and trusting in Him. I stared at the bloom in my hand and remembered the ugliness that it was - skinny, barren-appearing, tall, and all together in my way - and thought of what it is now: a full, lush, and budding fruit shrub not quite yet ripe for the picking, but promising us of what's to come. 


Some seasons in life just plain suck. If you think about it though, all four seasons have drawbacks. Rainy spring days. Hot, humid, windless summer afternoons. Blustery and mud-colored autumn mornings. Endless, frigid winter nights. And yet, they all have beauty: the blooms in spring, swimming and barbeques in summer, brilliant autumn leaves and hayrides, the glistening of snow on Christmas morning. 

Jesus tells us that if we remain in Him, and He in us, we will bear fruit. The illustration and comparison to life and fruit is not an accident. Nothing can continuously bear fruit. All things need a season of dormancy for growth and renewal. I find so much peace in that. Romans 8:28 says that all things are used for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose. You can guarantee that God will use ALL of it to bear fruit. Even our seasons of coldness, endless rain, and darkness. Jesus will make something beautiful, rest easy. Nothing lasts forever. 

I hope whatever season you are in, that you trust in God and His perfect timing.
God bless you and your nest

When I "Wing It"

What happens from time to time is that I get busy (or distracted. or lazy. or stubborn.) and I end up starting a project or needing to make a decision and I end up having to answer the question, "What are you doing?" 

My reply? "I'm winging it." 

Translation: I haven't the foggiest idea what I'm doing, but rest assured, I'm praying the whole time that something good will come of my efforts. And because Jesus just ROCKS, it usually works out pretty okay. All honor and glory to Him, because my lack of plan according to the world is merely a recipe (or a prescription) for disaster. :-)

My latest "wing it" endeavor is something for my kitchen from the most darling piece of scrap fabric my mother gave me. It is buttercream-yellow with apples and little apple blossom buds. It. Is. Adorable.

Last night, my husband observed me bent over the fabric at my sewing machine, pins in my mouth, pinning the teeniest hem EVER. I asked him to set up my iron and after he did so, he asked, "What are you going to do with it?" 

"I dunno," I replied. "I'm just gonna wing it."

I cut a long rectangle out of it and sewed two hems along the longer edges before I realized I should have taken a picture of the odd shape before I got into 5th gear and started snipping. Oh well. I'm envisioning a small valance (really small) but we shall see. Mom assured me that Joann's probably has more. However, until I get the time and money to assess that situation, I'm not giving up on my little piece of wonderfulness for my kitchen. Please, Jesus, help me make something delightful.  It doesn't look like much, but I have faith in it and in You. :-)

Bacon, honeysuckle, and Jesus - my favorite aroma!

This morning my husband comes in our dining room with tears in his eyes. We were having our separate times with Jesus, he in our room and I in the dining room. During my husband's quiet time, he said the following prayer: "God, I know you will provide for us. You have already done it time and time again. Please, Lord, just provide for us to have the gas in the car for what we need to do for the rest of the week." We were running low on gas and finances this week, you see. He told me he no sooner got the words out of his mouth when he received a text message to work today. To see the glow of Jesus surrounding him was breathtaking! We just held each other for a moment and he went to get ready for work. 

While he was in the shower, I felt I needed to hurry and make him a special breakfast to love on him for this blessed day. I decided to make him some turkey bacon and reheat some biscuits from the other day and pack him a little sack of snacks to take with him. As I was standing over the stove, the aroma of cooking bacon mixed with something sweeter. It took a second for me to remember that he had filled the house with honeysuckle from the bush outside our dining room window. I had put some in a Coke bottle we found in the backyard and put it on the window sill above the sink, which is next to the stove. 

Last Friday Stephen was mowing the yard, and I went out to talk to him and while there, I asked him what the bush was outside our dining room. He laughed and said, "It's honeysuckle, babe." I was thrilled! I had always wanted something fragrant outside my home!

So, there I stood, marveling for a moment at how God answers prayers, breathing in the aroma of bacon, honeysuckle, and the very breath of Jesus in my answered prayers. I am so thankful for the sacrifice Jesus made so we could have this intimacy with God, so our sin no longer separates us from Him, and we can personally reach out to our Almighty Father. I am so beautifully humbled this morning. :-)

Birds chirping :)

Lately I've felt like the Israelites complaining about being in the desert and the manna, missing the food of Egypt despite the slavery they were subjected to. My husband even noticed the frequent references to the journey to the Promised Land in my life the past month or so. Our little house is truly an act of God I walk around in every day, but I think I have become desensitized in some ways to His miracle. Not so different from the Israelites, huh?

Getting used to being somewhat removed from the more densely populated and commercial part of our county is taking some getting used to. I lived in the same general area for the better part of 8 years - since I moved to Georgia as a mater of fact. Everything I needed was so convenient and less than 10 minutes away from my driveway.  Now, its approximately 30 minutes. Instead of cars and sirens (the firestation was near my old home), I hear birds chirping, crickets, and trains. 


I'm sitting here listening to the birds chirping in the trees outside my window, and reflecting on a thought I had yesterday: If God wanted me anywhere else - convenient though it may be for my schedule and my gas tank - by golly I'd be there. The Lord wants us here, set apart from what I know and am comfortable with. This nugget-reminder from the Holy Spirit gently convicted me of my whining. I see my rural location with new eyes now: free from distractions and influences that kept me in bondage. It's a time of renewal and reflection as I begin my new life. God wanted me here and intentionally planted me here and is giving me fertile ground to flourish in and that's all I need to know. His will is my only desire for my life.

Buried Treasure

"I want to grow some vegetables."

My mother says, "Okaaaay. . ."

That's usually how she responds when I'm about to tackle an endeavor she's has not expected. You see, I'm not that good with plants. Translation: I kill green things. However, living out in the country I've been invigorated by all this spring renewal blossoming and flourishing around me. I want to grow something. It's not time for us (yet) to talk about a baby, and while I've never given much thought to flowers and dirt and plants my little house and its huge blank canvas has inspired me. So, I set about making myself a little garden. 

Now, as I have mentioned, money isn't exactly growing on the tree we're nesting in. I'm redefining "resourceful" around here. Almost nothing is wasted. My sister is my little Green Disease, and infected me about a year and a half ago with the "Green Living" bug. I collect compost materials to bring to my mother's house (she has composter and I don't have one - yet!), what few plastic grocery bags we come home with when I don't bring enough reusable shopping bags are repurposed for bathroom trash bags. Plastic bottles and gallon jugs are cut to use as paint buckets and the scraps are recycled. I have my limits, but before I throw anything away, I ask myself: "How can I use this in the next 30 - 60 days?" That time frame keeps me accountable to not just keeping anything. That said, understand I didn't have ANY gardening supplies. No tools. No pots. No potting soil. Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada. That posed a problem, no? Not for my Jesus. :-)

Here came Mom to the rescue as an answer to my prayer! She gave me a handful of seed packets. Then my son comes home from a Dad-weekend with a pot of wildflowers and grape tomatoes! Sweeeeet. I'm almost there! I have stuff to plant, now I needed something to plant WITH. Hmmmm. . . 

Well, last Sunday I checked out my Sunday paper and couponing website Southern Savers and made a delightful discovery: 8lb bag of potting soil on special for 99 cents a bag for three days only at a local drug store and had $1 garden tools as well! I cried out in joyful excitement and my husband gave me The Eyebrow. I didn't care, I was gonna garden this week!


Here comes the disclaimer: the potting soil and tools I purchased for $4.00 are not the highest quality, so that means more elbow grease. According to my mother, I have to mix the soil and my plants will need more attention for watering and so forth. The hand tools I purchased are a three-prong cultivator and a trowel. I fully expect to have to replace them with something more durable, but for now it was in my budget and met my needs. I don't mind the little extra hard work. 

Moving on now. . .I already had an all-purpose mop bucket I purchased at a discount store for $2.00 and an old bath towel that had been stained pretty badly to use for something to sit on while digging in the dirt. My mom always had something to sit on and something to haul her stuff around with her, so I guess that's why I decided these were on my list of "must haves" for my own little garden. This past weekend, we were driving home and on the way, we were passing a strip of road where there has been some tree-clearing going on and inspiration hit for a border/edge for my garden: cut trees! I pulled over and my husband grabbed some pieces and threw them in the trunk of my Ford Focus and off we went. I laid them out in the sunniest piece of our property and started weeding Sunday to start burying my treasured seeds by this weekend. 


Well, little did I expect to find buried treasure! We have found an old Coca-Cola bottle bottled in Griffin, Georgia and broken pieces of china and pottery. I was out weeding again today and my husband was mowing the grass trying to beat the rain, and he found three more bottles and some broken milk glass from some vintage beauty products! Pictures coming soon! I have to wash the eons of aged dirt off. We're wondering if there was a barn or a home that burned down at some point in the past. . .now we're excited to start digging some more, in the yard and at city hall to learn a little more about the house's history. 


Oh! Here comes the rain and my husband. Time to feed my fellas and finish preparing for my sweet Spirit-sister in Christ, who is arriving tonight to stay for the weekend. God bless you and your nest!