A daily life of purpose

Recently, WJ and I decided to revisit the way our home runs on a daily basis. We needed a new schedule.  And we needed to stick to it.  Make it happen.  In order to see this through, we challenged ourselves to implement this way of life for 30 days.  

What spurred this challenge?  Well, the obvious reason was that I had a very rough time during the first trimester of this third pregnancy. Life as we knew it had stopped. Completely.  For two months.  I had no motivation, no drive to do anything from housework to home school.  Sadly I will admit, the other three members of my family had been entertained for weeks on Netflix & PBS Kids while I tried to keep myself out of the bathroom! I was so thankful when weeks 14-15 came around.  All sickness and aversions to the kitchen in general, subsided. Life began to look normal again.  I actually found myself craving healthy food and was able to focus on the fact that I have daughters and a husband!  

Back in March, I had made a decent attempt to revisit life; of course, this was just before we found out about Baby H growing inside the womb.  So, on my 37th birthday (of all days) WJ and I finalized our plan. Hoping to create habits that would stick, I had evaluated our awake hours and worked up a better schedule for home school, meal times, family/craft time, etc.  We discussed past experience and realized that we are truly a family unit that needs a schedule.  Our lives and home run better with a little organization and determination. 

WJ's conviction of this had a bigger purpose.  He talked of the importance of making the most of our time now when our days were simple.  One job.  Two kids.  Not much activity outside the home.  He said that if we could do this now, we would be ready for more children, more community and one day, hopefully, our own business.  Made sense to me. Succeed in the small things... etc., etc. 

So, we did it.  I am pretty pleased to say that we are in our 6th week and things have been so much better.  Aside from the whole family being attacked with a yucky stomach bug mid-summer, we have accomplished what we set out to do.  And this home has been so full of joy.  Considering I am now 23 weeks pregnant with our third child, the timing of this new way of daily living was impeccable.  The girls are happier about school, I am walking upright, albeit large, still upright.  And WJ has a better view of our future.  

So far this pregnancy has been a symbol of many things 'revisited' for us.  The focus now: living.  BEING instead of doing.  Of course the house is not spotless, we live here.  And our 'To-Do list' isn't completed every day.  But our hearts are in it.  We are attacking each day with purpose.  

My biggest lesson in this:  the more I began to focus on the little workings of our family and our new challenge, the less time I had to see the negative, or what we didn't have.  I became thankful for what we did have.  This simple time in our lives.  I also had no time to allow selfishness to rear its ugly head!  

Well, that sums up our little world for now.  Hope you all have had a terrific summer and are as excited to welcome the beautiful season of Autumn as I am.  (Although, in the South, its more of a mindset than a physical expression!)  

What are some ways you have re-worked life to run smoother on a daily basis?  Has the Lord shown you anything about your family that could be preparation for busier days ahead?  What season do your find yourself in?    

Life Revisited

This last month has been crazy.  Literally.  Finding myself in a slump... a dumpy place with no motivation to move, much less be a mommy.  Ever have those moments?  Well... welcome.  Life used to be so orderly, so scheduled.  But lately, in the words of my favorite blogger, Ann Voskamp, "I've traded perfection for a good dose of real."

I wondered so many times what in the world was happening to me?  Sure, WJ has a new schedule to which we have all taken longer to adjust.  But where did my 'drive' go?  Where did my passion for teaching, cooking and fitness go?  Just 2 months ago, I was so gung-ho!  Now, nothing.

I still don't have all the answers to this.  But I do know that God has shown me many things about myself and I'm realizing one major thing.  I AM NORMAL.  Never thought this before.  I'm always too hard on 'me'.  Too critical of my daily function.  I guess, since the creator of the universe already knew this, it was time for the big reveal.  And boy I am getting it.  I'm sure most of you reading this are smirking just a little.  If you are close to me then you knew this lesson was coming.  

I do not fault myself for wanting order in my home or a schedule that keeps me sane.  Some thrive on this.  Some hate it.  What I am learning is balance.  On days when reality collides with my mentally perfect world, I now know that I can survive it.  Its ok if the floors don't get swept, if the dishes are still in the dirty side of the sink when I wake up (ok, maybe only one or two nights a week!) The point is, life is about what we do, not how it looks.  I'm done with surface perfection.  This does not guarantee peace or happiness.

I am learning the seasons of motherhood, womanhood and wilderness.  And while this post may make no sense to anyone else, that is the beauty of it all.  

Life revisited from a 'normal' perspective.  My kids are safe.  They are fed and clean before bedtime (most nights).  I have simplified homeschool and we are on a much slower pace.  

Simplicity and balance.  This is my focus for the coming months. 

We will survive.  By grace and HOPE.  

Be the lens.

We visited one of our favorite places this weekend, Barnes & Noble.  It's our go-to when there is no where else to. go. to. 

While WJ sat with the girls as they played with Thomas the Train, I decided to venture into uncharted territory.  I wanted to see what the rest of society read while I dreamed of a perfect world through my copy of Southern Living magazine.  What I found totally floored me.

When did "Teen Paranormal Activity/Novels" take a whole section of a rather large store?  Yes, at the moment I realize I have lived under a rock for 6 years.  But I could not believe what I saw on FIVE sets of shelves all under the heading "Teen". 

as in not adult.  as in my life just 7 years

from now as Goose is 6 next week! 

As I googled 'manga' on my phone, I stood wondering why this really surprised me.  I do not think evil exists only at the level of the wicked witch or the evil stepmother. Yet, I was taken aback at the onslaught of material that people obviously see as harmless.  Please understand, I knew this type of writing existed. What shocked me was the target audience.  All of a sudden, I felt weak. 

WJ's words to Goose came crashing down around me as I recall him saying over and over the last few weeks, "You know Goose, you could stay 5 for a while longer. You don't have to grow up so fast!"
He is always encouraging me in my daily work with them; now I understand his urgency.

 I saw them through his eyes.

He leaves every day for work, 

and when he comes home,

he sees a growth in them

that I overlook because I am so close. 

Well, in that moment, I saw it.  And it terrified me.

I rushed back to my family, in tears, needing to see my little girls...needing to look into their innocence and cherish that moment.  the moment I realized time is not slowing down.

As Goose ran toward me excited over a new book, I interrupted her and simply asked, "Will you please stay 5 years old?  Please don't get any older.  Stay exactly how you are right now."  Of course she looked at me with the look, you know the "Mo-o-om" look (Mom:  pronounced in 3 syllables instead of 1).  But I held her anyway.  Enjoying her.  And wondering how many young children are familiar with topics of witchcraft, evil seduction & the occult; thinking them to be harmless stories. 

As I looked around, I didn't have to wonder long.  Right there in the children's section, was the introduction of deceptive evils to this generation.  In neat box sets, & catchy covers...still evil.  I watched as a mother tried to help her seemingly very young daughter figure out which series to read next.  Both choices made me cringe.  It broke my heart to see the exposure Satan has gained in such a young audience. And it started with what someone allowed to be ok. A society desensitized more and more every year.

Please understand, WJ & I long to teach our children with a broad scope of cultural literacy & artistic license.  We are not in a 'bubble' mentality whatsoever.  We desire to help them grow into well rounded women who are able to live in a society that is diverse, while holding to their convictions, whatever they may be. 

We teach JESUS.  The son of God who dined with sinners.  Not a man who rejected anything or anyone that was not 'holy'.  He lived and breathed reality.  He accepted people for who they were and He adjusted to his surroundings while holding to His convictions.  This is the pattern we strive for. 

At some point, our children have to be aware.  And we, as parents, want to be the lens that exposes reality.  

Please hear me.  Cliches truly have purpose. 

If we do not teach them, someone else will.

I believe that many limit this statement to mean, "Teach them what you want them to know; solely what you want them to believe."  This is so wrong.  If you, as parents, do not take opportunity for explanation when they come to you with questions, they will figure it out.  Someone will show them how cruel the world can be. 

Please pray about how to introduce reality to your children.  Look for teachable moments and show them ways to deal with what they will face, or are already facing.  Don't ignore it.   

 BE THE LENS.  

 

...click on the 'cliche' for a similar post

on how we use reality as a teachable moment

  

I am selfish. Period.

Previous posts about our home life seem to be so together and tidy. From daily schedules to what I teach in homeschool, 'life as a Harris' is organized for the most part. But (there is always a but) I am still such a selfish mommy.

This morning I awoke to a quiet house long before daylight. But there was such a heaviness in my heart.  I'm a mess.   Lately, I have been overwhelmed with the realization that I would rather find cute things on Pinterest than watch Letter Factory for the millionth time. It does prick my heart to know that I find more enjoyment in reading another chapter on motherhood than actually spending time as "playmate mommy" most afternoons. Turns out, I'm not alone (thank you @saramae! Desperate, chapter 7).  For months now I've read, and even quoted, wiser women on being the best version of me that I can offer to my girls. "They are our greatest disciples!" yes. It's just taken a while for my heart to catch up... Well today is catch up day.

 

How can I be for them when I don't want to do anything? When I should be creating palaces and princess adventures in the living room with chairs and blankets, I'd rather not. When did I lose interest in my own children? Now this is sporadic. Some days are wonderful, then bam. Bad, sad day. Focused inward, not upward or outward. Such a mess. 

I've still got so much in me that needs denying so their spirits aren't crushed in the mix. But I've asked the Lord to soften my heart and put in me a desire to just sit with them. To breathe. To realize laundry can wait. Dishes can wait. What matters most is for them to see that I am all in. In the moment. with them, watching them. not just taking up space. Today i began trying to make our home their favorite play place. I'm realizing that my crafts, books and computer time have to come second to their desire for me to be at their tea party.

So as the sun peeked from behind a snow filled morning, tears streamed down my face and I surrendered. Again. Knowing I cannot do this alone. The grief, my selfish focus, has to be left at the foot of my cross. I will take it up daily, this sacrifice of self (Luke 9:23). And my daughters will know that Mommies are more than "Pick this up. Flush the potty. Use your INSIDE VOICE! (said in my outside voice)". 

Balance is dawning within my heart. Now it's time for it to brighten our home. I'm grateful for the book Desperate by Sarah Mae & Sally Clarkson along with their blogs.  These women have helped capture my heart as well as allow a sigh of relief that I am not alone. Every mom faces it. The tired days. The weary moments. It's what we do in those moments that make the difference. I'm determined to show my daughters Jesus...patient, affectionate, selfless Jesus; and me, their Mommy who doesn't have it all together but is present and willing to give them my full attention.

the only good in me is His grace. wild and unconditional. and that is the anchor for this heart tonight. Sweet dreams.

a Message in the Fog...

google.com/images

On Wednesday, for the first time since being in Oklahoma, the fog that set in was so thick it lasted all day.  As we ran our errands, I bleakly stared out the window.  Thinking this day fit my mood.  And everyone around me knew it.  Lately, it had been a chore simply to get out of bed, to keep house or affectionately be who I loved being. Then it came to me. This fog held symbolism beyond my mood.  I realized that looking at this fog was like looking into our future.  Even though I could not see very far, it was still there.  Something.

 

The fog that afternoon has captivated my memory for two days now.  Thoughts of my short sightedness, just like the fog.  For reasons we cannot see, the fog remains hiding the distant path.  In the landscape that we are able to see clearly, rest assured there are lessons to learn.  And if not taken at a slower pace, drifting too far into the fog can be dangerous. 

At times, the fog's density is to hide things that may be more fearful than the fog itself.  God cares about our journey.  And sometimes he gives just enough clarity for the steps we currently need to take; shielding us from surroundings that may cause panic and doubt.

 

I am amazed at how, when I am at my weakest, He shows me something like this.  Fog...so mysteriously simple.  I have learned a great deal this week about my dependance; needing to lean solely on my Creator.  After all, if word be true, He knows what I need before I ask.  To trust His guidance and care of our lives and future is daunting at best.  But moments like these, with the revelation of the fog, my spiritual visibility is perfectly clear.

So I hold to the unwavering joy of what I cannot see.  Unexplainable and sometimes misunderstood, this hope is the anchor of my soul.  No matter the struggle, no matter the view, and no matter how hard life has tried to squeeze it from my being, I must carry on in hope.  And with each moment of surrender, I find a glimpse of symbolism in the world around me.  Grace. 

It's as if He is whispering, "I am here.  At the next turn in the road.  With just enough light to renew hope for your journey.  Come.  Don't give up."  And the fog lifts.

www.google.com/images

The Big Exhale

This morning has already proved my necessity for the daily entry of God Calling. I knew last night it would, just had that feeling (read jan 9).

WJ is working evening/nights. He has worked the last 7 days and wont be off for another 7!!! For some unnatural reason, my girls were wide awake at 4 am and just as we settled back in, WJ comes through the door at 6!!! So. We've been awake and I'm HOLDING to the words of that little book today!

"Not to be overwhelmed, not to feel life's strain!" God believes I am strong enough to handle this... I'm still waiting on that confidence to kick in.

As I miss my husband, miss my friends and companions.. I am empty. I guess this is the avenue of attack the enemy is trying with me. Lonely beyond words...
i.crave.community!
Yet I KNOW God is the one stretching me and beckoning me to grow. Matthew 6:33 has taken me to a new depth this morning.

As we try to engage our new city, our schedule makes it almost impossible. But I sense the reason... HE wants my WHOLE trust and dependance! Joe cannot fulfill the places God resides. My children cannot. Friends and community will not complete me. This road has to be traveled. And I must empty my flesh, my emotions, and my will to embrace it.

this season is akin to years ago when I waked the road of emptying myself to singleness... Strange insight. I'll think on that one awhile.

There are moments when I feel so selfish in this, knowing there are so many others who have it much worse. Ive got the head knowledge, just waiting for my heart to catch up!

Thanks for letting me exhale this morning! I love you all

That moment. That terrible moment.

Yesterday was spent in a whirlwind of fun, family shopping and holiday festivities here in our new town. Lights, reindeer, Santa, Bing singing on the radio... You get the image.

We set out early and made a day of acquiring all the goodies that will make
next week even more special from sugar cookie dough to new stockings for the mantle. Most of our gifts are ready for the taking and we ended the night in, none other than, the Bass Pro Shop.

As we strolled the aisles, the girls were being champs seeing as how it was the eighth hour of their day out. WJ and I were enjoying getting some last minute gifts for extended family. And then it happened. That moment. That terrible moment that no mother, or anyone for that matter, wants to see...

Prissy had licked the floor! She and Goose were playing with the stroller and I guess a game of "puppy" had developed. Yes, my child was on all fours and had put a little wet spot on the concrete.

There were no words, well none that could be heard out loud by little ears. I scooped her up and seriously considered taking an antibacterial wipe to her tongue. But the damage was done. Even WJ, who's usually "Mr. Awe They'll Be Fine", was looking at her like, "really"?

I smile this morning as I post this, mainly because there are no "terrible mommy" symptoms that have surfaced in Prissy's well being. And believe me I've pleaded the blood of Jesus over her more than once in the last 12 hours.

Just thought you'd enjoy, or be horrified at our little parenting glitch! Happy Sunday!

Overwhelming realities

Much has been said of the tragedies in Connecticut. And justifiably so.


But I must share... Our baby girl loves to sing "shake your booty" as i am drying her off after bath time. I'm usually rushing them off to bed at this point so I can straighten the bathroom that is now covered in bubbles.

Not so tonight... We enjoyed our time as Prissy did the bath dance and Goose's laughter echoed through the house. WJ and I tucked them in slower than usual as I sang an extra verse of the "fall down" song.

Tears streamed down my face as the girls began to sing with me... YOU ARE MY STRENGTH WHEN I AM WEAK, the treasure that I seek... YOU are my all in all.

Somewhere in the northeast tonight, there are so many parents who will never have this opportunity again... To simply give their little ones a bath, to tuck them in. i thought of the heartache of seeing their presents sitting under the tree that will never be opened and shared Christmas morning.

Don't rush life. It's too precious to miss simply because we, as adults, have lost sight of the magic it brings. Not just this season but every day in the smallest of moments.

Life truly is a vapor... And that overwhelms me to no end.

if not for grief...

For those who have lost a loved one, which could probably be all six of you who read this,  then you can relate to the grief that comes with special days, holidays and sometimes every  day in  general.   As the holidays approach, I have been in a bittersweet battle between my LOVE, ok it's maybe an obsession, with all things 'December'  and the fact that next week starts the journey of one year that my Dad began to slip away from us. 

 

I've always heard of the process of grieving and how you will re-live  each memory over and over, but I never realized the depth to this old  saying.  As the holidays approach, I have bombarded Heaven, asking my sweet friend Jesus  to somehow take the heart ache and replace it with the beauty of Dad's smile, his laugh (the loud one, for he had many) and all the wonderful times that we shared.  But I realize that this cannot totally happen.

 

Grief is reality.  I know that statement sounded harsh, but it is very true for me.  If not for grief, then I would forget that this is NOT my home.  If not for grief, then I would not long for Heaven and the realities that it holds... my family, my friends, my Savior!  So, as this time of reflection begins, I choose to embrace the cracks in my heart and let it keep my focus for HOME.  for a time where there will be no more tears.  I choose to let the tears cleanse every part of my soul and keep me grounded in the fact that I am but a vapor. 

I feel that someone needs to know there are others who hurt, who feel and who long for times past or times future... because the present sometimes hurts too much.  IF you are one of those people, please call on Jesus.  It may make no sense to you, these ways of our Creator, but there is purpose.  Even in the loss, there is beauty to be seen.  Get to know His ways and how He sits right now at the Father's side, and longs to come back.  To take us HOME.

 

(if you have no idea of what I am referring to when I say HOME... find a bible, or go  to www.biblegateway.com and look up these verses:  John 14:1-3, 1 Peter 3:18, Hebrews 13:14, Revelation 21:3, Ephesians 3:16-18) The last one is my prayer for you!

 

"For this world is not our permanent home,

we are looking forward to a home yet to come." 

Hebrews 13:14

 

 

Our lives, revisited.

currently on an extended trip back home to visit family before the holiday rush...

As this next week approaches, I have mentally revisited our lives this time last year.  We were still living close to home (MS), family and life unfolded every day as I thought it should.  Little did I know then, that within one month this life would have revealed two major shifts in the permanent direction of our family. 

 

While I feel it is time to engage the memories through written thought, my first thought is one of those, "If you had told me ______, I would have laughed and called you crazy" kind of moments.  So, I begin with this challenge:

EMBRACE those around you.  Truly cherish people, not things; your life could be totally different with the blink of an eye. 

Fear: "But it's make believe." It's still fear.

It was obvious when Goose was very young that she had inherited my sensitive spirit.  When other children were watching shows that anyone in our culture would view as 'normal', Goose would not.  She was, and still is, very keen to turn her back on anything that is scary or ill-humored.  My problem with this realization is that I am not as sensitive to things as I used to be.  It's called being 'desensitized'. 

I remember discussing this with WJ and realizing that we did not want her to lose this sensitivity.  We wanted to nurture it.  We decided early on to let our children judge, or discern, for themselves what good and evil looked like; using these moments through the years as teachable opportunities. 

 

That said...we did not set out and openly discredit the subject of Halloween.  With Goose, we did not have to.  She came to us fearful of the decorations she saw in stores or yards.  So WJ and I did what is common in our household, we studied the history and origins of Halloween.  While attempting to explain this to a 5 year old, we shared our own opinions about the holiday and its evolution to what it is today.  The journey of the 'Jack-o-lantern' as well is a pretty interesting story as well. 

Then we talked about the many reasons, or lack thereof, that people choose to celebrate Halloween.  We told her that for some families, especially those with young children, it is just a fun day to dress up and get candy from neighbors.   Of course, Goose' reply to this was, "I can dress up every day and get candy from Grammy's anytime I want."  You'd have to know her to appreciate a reply like this.  We also explained that some people know Halloween is scary and enjoy scaring others.  Frown.  The conversation ended with a lesson about choices.  While we hope to never judge others, we encouraged her to stand firm in her beliefs.  What she decides for herself, out of the influences of family and community, becomes her belief system; and she should be courageous enough to stand by it. 

The last few days Goose has been confronted with questions about Halloween, more so than any year before that I can recall.  As recent conversation unfolded with her neighborhood friends, I was amazed at her courage to explain why she does not like the holiday.  Even when faced with their confusion to why she didn't dress up that night, Goose stilled herself with the a stunning reply, "I like dressing up, but not on Halloween."  She went on to tell them that she didn't like anything scary.  I did not chime in until the end of the conversation when I explained that it's ok for them to dress up if their parents approved and they are not scared or in danger; but because Goose doesn't like some things she sees during this time of year, she chooses not to participate.  Of course, for elementary kids, I'm sure we sounded weirder than the Addams family in today's culture (pun fully intended).  But I was one proud mama.

That was yesterday.  Today, it was the grocery clerks.  First of all, the store was decorated with hangings a little darker and more disturbing than I thought fitting for the produce section.  I mean, spiders and jack-o-lanterns are one thing, zombie heads on tombstones are a whole other deal!  So, we finally make it to the counter for checkout... this is the dialogue: 

Goose:  Hi! What's your name?
Cashier:  Hello, my name is ...!  Are you excited about Halloween?
Goose:  No ma'am.  I don't do Halloween. 
Cashier:  What?  You don't like getting candy and dressing up?
Goose:  No (long and drawn out)...I don't like being scared.
Cashier:  But honey, it's only costumes and make believe.  You don't have to be scared. 

Goose looks at me with the usual confused, sad eyes.  Even as the lady bagging our goods continues talking about her 7 year old granddaughter who is in 'into' zombies... Really?  I then gently explain to both women that anything that brings fear, whether make believe or not, is indeed real for the one who is scared.  Of course, the cash clerk changes tune and seems to see the decor in the store with new eyes.  She replies, "You know, those (decorations) are a bit much for little eyes, I suppose."  I smile sadly, thinking to myself:  Yeah.  Online shopping is looking better and better these days.

 

 

"Direct your children onto the right path, and when they are older, they will not leave it."

Proverbs 22:6



little mirrors

Mirror /ˈmirər/  n.  - (2.)  Something that faithfully reflects or gives a true picture of something else.

 

 

A few weeks ago I began to see some things that needed "tweeking" (Tom Hanks, You've Got Mail, 1998).  Every time I use that word, I hear his voice in my head.   kinda fun, slightly cheesy.  Anyhow, this epiphany came as the girls were helping me unload the dishwasher.  They always do the silverware, dull edges of course.  Prissy handed Goose a spoon that had a few wet spots on it.  Goose immediately used her shirt to dry it before placing it in the drawer.  A shirt that had been playing in the mud just minutes before.  So, in order to earn my germ-patrol badge, I reprimanded her for doing such a thing by eloquently explaining how germs work, how unsanitary it is to use dirty cloths, the whole nine yards.  She obediently replied, "Yes Mommy".  Two minutes later, I pulled a glass from the top rack and did the SAME THING!!!!  Wow.  I looked down at my shirt, it was clean but that was not the point, and commenced an apology that I prayed Goose could understand and accept.  This may not seem huge to you, but for me it was almost my undoing.  Because here stood my five year old daughter, submitting to my correction of her small act of MIRRORING MOMMY, all the while never giving excuse for her action.  Simply obeying. That's right.  They learn most everything from us and there I stood wearing the "muddy shirt"!  No badge. 

 

I am thankful for that moment.  It is a stark reminder of my vulnerability when it comes to being a parent.  If I had not realized my actions and apologized to Goose, she may have interpreted the situation to mean that it is ok to say one thing and do another or that inconsistency is acceptable.  These are not character traits that I desire my daughters to reflect.   As my husband and I discussed this later that night, with tears in my eyes, I explained that I knew there had to be more. I was not living up to my potential as a 'stay-at-home' and I needed to focus on more than just duties and schedules.  I have always believed, if possible, you should do what you love.  And if it ever becomes a 'job', start re-evaluating life.  Well, this was that moment for me, again. I've had many.  We concluded that somehow I would start seeing each day as a gift, not a task; seeing my daughters as more than just 'charges of the keep' (in my worst British accent).  They are a direct reflection of what takes place within our home; of who I am.  Little Mirrors.

 

That evening has stayed with me for days. During this time, I received and began reading The Ministry of Motherhood by Sally Clarkson (Waterbrook Press, 2004).  Coincidence?  I think not.  

And I was right.  Immediately, as I read the introduction, I felt envious of the relationship described by the author with her daughter.  I wanted to look ahead 10 years and see a bond strong enough to withstand anything.  The precious gift of kindred souls.  Now let me stop here and make something very clear.  I am not referring to being 'friends' with your children. There is a fine line with what I am attempting to say.  So here it goes:  I do believe there is a difference between confiding, supportive parenting that creates a healthy balance of oneness as opposed to letting go of all sense of leading, training and discipline simply to be accepted by your offspring at any cost.  That said, hopefully well, I'll continue.  My heart yearned for something deeper.  And I knew it was time.  Time to start "tweeking". 

 

I dove into reading and absorbing every realization about myself and how I could make things better for my girls.  After surrendering and honestly coming to the Lord with, "Well, I'm back"... I've found balance.  It's only been a few days, just a week into homeschool and our new schedule, but I have learned to pull back the reins a bit, wake up early, start my day off slow, not rushed and focus on bettering my time with Goose and Prissy.  Enjoying them and allowing them to see a part of me they can laugh at as well!  And turns out, most all the chores are getting done, the closets stay organized (which if you know me, you know that is a must) and I'm actually finding time to workout!  Huh, who'd have thought.  BALANCE.  look it up.  try it.    it works.

 

 

Simple Geography. Life as a Sojourner.

Sojourner:  temporary resident. 

My life in a nutshell for the past few years.

However, this post will not be disheartening.  It is a testimony to the power of positive...thinking, living and believing.

Ok, now that I have clarified, let me set the stage:

When I should have been spending the latter part of summer preparing for home school, instead I was packing for yet another move...another job transfer.  #5 in seven years.  No we are not Military, we are Oil & Gas Industry which is sometimes worse than military relocation.  Yet surprisingly, finally, through this recent process, I have learned the art of embracing our life for the positive that it truly is.  How? By actually listening to the Holy Spirit's guidance (since, well you know, He is our guide) and applying words of encouragement from very wise counsel (credits to follow).   Huh, who'd have thought? 

First let's go back to the beginning, no... not 5 moves-beginning. This PAST move. 

Act 5, Scene whatever: Enter my arch-nemesis: ANXIETY. According to past experience, worry creeps in at the mention of transition to invade my thought processes, effect every aspect of my usually organized daily schedule, and in general just stick around out of shear annoyance. 

Thus, the old checklist:  packing, worry, 'Where are we going?' more packing, more worrying, 'Are we there yet?', did I mention worry?  And don't forget the constant wondering of how the girls would ever live 'normal' lives as we uproot yet again and start over.  More to follow on 'normal' lives after uprooting and starting over... for now, I also should interject that we have recently endured the somewhat unexpected passing of my precious Dad (hands up in a 'wait' status:  not quite ready to put those thoughts on file).  So, yeah.  I really could have had the Pity-Party-of-the-Year!   

Instead, I first embraced a thought I've upheld for years:  There are plenty of other people who have it worse than my family.  As I began to apply said thought, the UN-importance of my worries became clear.  I could not change the inevitable.  We were, in fact, moving.  This decision and destination was not our decision, so why be concerned with the unneccesary? I had two choices:  Focus on what we did not have or focus on what was right in front of me! I chose the latter, turning all my energy toward the positive.  One, my husband was wise enough to be willing to move instead of the other option:  Lay off.  No job.  End of financial securities for the Harris'.  Yeah, he's a smart guy!   And two, I can continue to home-make, homeschool, blog, DIY and everything else that Stay-At-Home's do... (made it sound all cheeky, didn't I? well, it is.)  Oh, to follow up on uprooting and starting over:  no.  we are simply continuing life in a different city.  simple geography.  who needs normal? 

This turned the table on the ole villian Anxiety!  That and the counsel of wise believers.  Mama T, one of the best examples of motherhood, advising me to "Focus on today".  So elementary, yet so complex.  At that moment, I realized that I had this head knowledge all along.... I knew all the cliche's and words of wisdom.  But applying them to this sojourning life was what I was missing.  Like a rebellious child on a path with its parent, I'd been walking but unwillingly causing grief to my environment by not rejoicing in the process.  G.P., the crazy racer and my spiritual poppa, had many encouraging conversations on rejoicing with me through this process of mental transition... He would call and pray for us, laugh and cry with me; all the while holding me to the convictions of knowing that God would not forsake me.  I began seeing the blessings in the midst of my grief and continued my exodus from a life of anxiety.  And finally, my kindred spirit, Sunshine, challenged me to start a tradition that we now do together randomly through text:  FIND ONE THING IN YOUR DAY THAT YOU ARE SARCASTICALLY THANKFUL FOR

*i.e.  being thankful for a husband who leaves his shaven aftermath all over my freshly clean bathroom; or being grateful that people still believe fax machines to be dependable, as if they were EVER!.. oh, just one more:  thankful for toddler color marks all over my new, kitchen cabinets!(I won't disclose which is hers or mine) Nothing brings laughter as quick as this tradition!  So joye-ful and liberating! 

Now (Act 5 Finale) I sit in our new home, new city, same duties, new joy.  I have realized the importance of the old cliches and applied them as if they were hot off the press (I truly hope some of you know what that last phrase means without googling it).

No longer will my negative tendencies rule any process of our lives...will the villian return? of course.  Worry will always try to dominate like it can add a single hour to your existence (see Matthew chapter 6 for that one).  As I've mentioned in previous posts, life does not slow down or wait for any of us.  However, there is something to be said for life itself...no matter the geography.

Life does not stop, nor does it wait.

This day has been a sheer test of my parental grasp on reality.  I have gotten through the last 12 hours by continuously reminding myself that things could be much worse. Sure I can believe that.  Easily too, if I focus on the homeless with little hope or natural disasters that don't stop for anyone.  But that does not mean that, today, life waited for me to catch up or catch on either.   

Tonight, I type not to vent, or exhale as I've come to fashion the term.  I simply think this is what a blog is for.  (The fact that the very word sounds so close to BLAH makes me smile.)  And although I'm not even sure what blogs are really supposed to accomplish, I do know this...I love written thought.  And that is the closest I can come to defining the word at all.  Blog: Written thoughts.  Typed, written.  Yada yada (random alphabet, clarified below). I do prefer pencil and parchment to keyboard & screen!  

 

Letters are good... I still make and use stationery...

 

Yet as this day ends, with all my exhaled thoughts, I still feel that Peace within.  The knowing that everything we need, everything I desire is right here.  Within...reach.  Within sight, though I may not see it yet.  Within this home as I hear the sound of a baby breathing peacefully in slumber.  The sound of a melody to calm the dream world and allow my oldest to see with joyful imagination.  There is so much we cannot fathom.  I do hope more is left to the imagination as we continue to exhale, and grow. 

And as for the informal style of this Blah, i mean blog...  blame it on a random alphabet within my head.