Hibernation Part 2

Okay, after yesterday’s post, I realize that I need to press in to Christ, and make a decision to change my attitude!  I appreciate what you all shared.  So often, it boils down to this for me.  A decision.  I can choose to be aggravated because there is no sun on my face, or I can’t do the things I am used to doing, or I can find new things, activities with my family and friends.  

 Jacque:  deepening family traditions…or creating them!  It is nice when you have a community of people around you that believe in traditions, and enjoy being together.  

Charlene, I havn’t skiied in years!  But I think I would love it.  Every winter, I have those days that I just want to drive up above the valley and into the sun.  Looking back at our valley, it is like a tea cup filled with clouds.  Also, I am really looking forward to training with you at WFC.  I always feel better when I exercise!

Darcy, I hope by reading others comments, you will gather some ideas here.

I would love for all to comment one thing, an idea, a recipe, a photo, something that we can contribute to eachother’s lives as a way to boost ourselves in this upcoming winter season.

Hibernation?

Winter is coming.  Parts of it I love, but here in Southern Oregon, the clouds can stay for so long.  I find myself really enjoying the beauty of fall with such vibrant colors….I  am trying to find out what I can do this winter that will give me deep satisfaction and purpose.  I don’t want the weather to affect me.  I think I understand why Bears hibernate!!

What do you do in Winter that you don’t do in other seasons that lifts your spirits?

 

Letting go

Letting go

As I walk down the shoreline of my life

I pick up all the pieces,

I hold them in my hands

and I try and decide

what to keep or toss aside

what is yours and what is mine….

but the lines get blurred everytime

but I try

And I try and see the good

when I look behind me

but shades of red and blue when mixed just right

form a bruise

I remember, I feel it…..

and I try and decide

what to keep or to toss aside

what is yours and what is mine

I try……

Then I hear you say:

I Author the tide, that crashes upon the shoreline of your life

you fall down and under, you chip and you crack

until the smoothest edges are found….

for a bruised reed I will not break

My stripes are for your healing…..

I walk down the shore line of my life

I pick up all the pices,  I place  them in your hands

I’ve tried to do it on my own

but I need you God….

For a bruised reed you will not break

and your stripes are for our healing…..

from the heart of a 11 year old….

 

 

 Jessica (now 14) after the loss of both of my Grandma’s wrote this amazing essay about death and “going home”.  We lost Wilma Becker in November of 2006, and Dorothy Brook in January of 2007.  Both suffered with dementia.  It is interesting how observant Jessica is and able to articulate with such powerful word pictures and analogies!  She is so inpsiring. 

 

 Butterflies fluttered by one of many tired weary bodies that lay in warm sheets in hospital beds.  A place where time barely moves, pages are empty and rain falls. Today the sunshine on my face has become my one companion.

Long before you see it,  time is gone. Like a bird that has been set free.  My heart is aching and I don’t understand. Every day is like a new day. Things seem to be repeating themselves until time is worn out. Why do the doctors repeatedly tell me their names and my problems? Stories have been told of fading memories. I know understand for only brief moments I can remember my life then like a gust of wind is taken from my grasp. I’m slipping away from everything I knew and every thing I know. And still I’m asking WHY…?  As well, my life is slipping from me and I can’t do anything about it. My sons and daughters are always around my mind like I’m trying to hold on to them. I can’t keep them in my memory forever. I am an old tired woman who is confused, lost and broken in a way that will soon not matter.  My life was like a normal life. Until I started losing my memory. Like with the doctors or dentists appointments, shopping lists,  eventually to more important things. My son cried many tears for he was the 1^st one I lost from my memory. I

remember telling him to leave. And he did. I don’t know where he is now. I know he came back but I have lost all of them. And they think I don’t know them. But I do. On some days. I am slowly fading, falling, hurting and losing a great amount of my memory. And along with those memories my life also goes. My time here is unknown and I can’t even explain what it has done to me. My life flashes before me. I don’t know how much time has passed by.  I see a rush of people around me,  a cloud of loved ones faces bunched, hovering, holding my hands and looking at me with loving eyes.  And then they were gone.  My eyes closed, a swirl of life took me.

 My body was new, A tear dropped and I smiled inside. I knew I was home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What are you wearing?

 

As I strip the clothes of performance off, and the underclothes of pretension, I am left shivering cold with my true self.

Part of me longs to go back to the many years when my starched-white self staunchly rode high on my hourse named In Control.  I am very much aware that this not truly the Christian life, one submited to a higher authority, one that trusts and believes that all things work together for good.  But I am also reminded that I am human, not God, and that He is changing me from glory to greater glory.  One day at a time.  I have preferred a lifestyle that seperates me from people.  So I put up my picket fences and invite people to come, and then entertain them on the front porch of my pretend self.  These times are well planned out to make sure every detail is in place.  I must not risk criticism.  I would not want to be caught in the buff.  I stare down at the pile of clothes on the floor.  They are old and worn, not my favorites, but at the same time, I am used to them. I wrap up in a blanket and sit in my favorite rocking chair in the sun.  Through the sheer curtains I can see the blue sky.  I close my eyes and attempt to gather my thoughts.  They are chasing each other around, pushing and shoving to get the best point of view.  As though competing for my attention, they jump up and down screaming, “Pick me, pick me!”  They are so busy, I can’t even focus.

I fold the clothes of performance and the undergarments of pretense, and put them aside.  I invite Christ’s rest into this time.  He clothes me in garments of praise in exchange for my spirit of heaviness.  I meditate upon the bread He sets before me:  That His burden is light.  The thoughts in my mind quiet down upon this reflection, as they feed upon the Bread of Life.

Can anyone relate to this?  I am confident that I am not  the only one that has a hard time sitting still and waiting on our Heavenly Father in a sucess driven world that screams go! do! get busy!

growing in my new green house!

It is that time of year where I am gradually making my way indoors more a little each day!  The weather is turning, trees are growing red, yellow and orange.  The sun is hiding more and more each day.  I could hear the rain falling on the roof  for 2 nights in a row.  Typical of our area, I am dressing in layers for the crisp cold mornings and peeling them off by 2pm and consisdering one last dip in our pool before we close it down for the winter. 

My sweet husband built me a green house off my art studio and we just finished buttoning it down!  I told him that I think I will be like a little flower that sits out there everyday it is sunny!  I have even considered putting a small sand box in there and my garden fountain…along with  any of the flowers from my yard that I can try and keep alive through the winter.  Add a little ocean music and a great imagination, I should be able to break myself into winter slowly:)

I don’t think there will be room for a tanning bed though!  LOL!

So, I will be blogging again, starting today.

Storie

a day off….

 

I can feel myself running on the inside again….

As I look around, there is always something to do.  Laundry to move, closets to reorganize, dishes to wash, clutter to put away or rid of, a newsletter to write, production to meet, people to phone back, emails to respond to….the list goes on and on,  and on and on.

Work is never done. The tedious list of tasks does not include a pajama day, or a “day off”…to do whatever you please!  I have held a job since I was 13. My work performance has guided and defined me. Like a boss in charge of a slave. And provided that I keep moving at the pace she defines for me, I am rewarded with messages that say:  “You are such a hard worker, and you shall never be accused of being lazy.”  She further blows her horn sounding that I am capable, and that I can “earn my keep”.  I may run ragged at the end of a day, week or year, but I can stand on what I accomplished.  Living for performance is a long and lonely road that leads to wastelands called weariness and fatigue.  When I face the restlessness inside,  I find myself running from thing to thing, room to room, idea to idea in hopes to escape the restlessness that lives inside.  I need to change the voices that I have listened to for so long. 

As  I sit with the restlessness today in my pajamas, and just let myself be, something inside of me is beginning to relax.  The tension is easing.  I can hear my heart more clearly.

Team work

I am working on a post to go out Saturday on team work!
Happy new year…
hope you are all well!

Storie

I am thankful for…YOU!

How was everyone’s Thanksgiving?  I wish that we could all have sat around a HUGE table and shared a wonderful meal…stories and all.

What is your favorite pie?

What are you most thankful for?

I miss you, my blog friends, and I am thankful for all of you…who you are and what you add to the lives of others.  My favorite pie?  Chocolate creme…..

Where do you run?

What do you do when you’re strugging.  you can’t reach that certain person on the phone [that you think might help]  

Where do you run?