Snow day was a bust. We were forecast to get 18-24 inches (at one point, anyway). We got maybe 4-5 inches. Bummer. It was looking forward to holing up in the house with the wind and snow howling outside. Baking. All this snow did for me was to cancel my trip to Sioux Falls.
But, the day is inspiring me to blog. (It's 11:00 a.m. and I'm still in my jammies.) So, here goes.
I've been thinking about things I believe lately. Not all deep things. Just things that make sense to me. And I decided to share those with you. I'm not trying to change your mind and I don't really want you to try and change my mind. Just wanted to write these down.
So, this is My Manifesto...the "Kitt-ma" of my life! :)
1. I believe there is a God. There. I said it. I believe that God is three-in-one: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, each one with his specific role. I don't necessarily understand just why and how this works, but I totally believe it.
2. I believe that the Son was born on earth to a virgin and that when He died on the cross then rose from the dead, He justified me in the Father's eyes, therefore giving me the anticipation of eternal life.
3. But, I also believe that it's not enough to know about Jesus. I needed to make a decision that I needed His death and resurrection and that confessing my sins was the only way.
4. I believe you can tell a lot about a person by observing how they treat children, old people, and animals.
5. I believe that electronic stuff--TV, video games, the computer, cell phones--can stimulate our brains in a bad way, especially if you're a kid. I think that many kids who have trouble concentrating or are overly active could benefit from eliminating these things in their lives.
6. I believe you can either get grumpy or twinkly when you get old. It's your choice. (I stole this one!)
7. I believe that putting off cleaning the kitchen is a bad thing. That the job is never quite as bad as you think it was going to be. You just need to do it. With loud music on in the background. Dancing while you put away the dishes.
8. I believe families should eat supper together as much as possible. And this means no TV during the meal. And no answering the phone.
9. I believe there is something intrinsically good about work. Whether you need the money or not. Whether you're paid or not. Work makes me able to enjoy the down time.
10. I believe walking counts as exercise.
11. I believe chocolate mint stuff is evil. Very deceiving. You take a bite, expecting yummy chocolate cake and there it is...mint. Yuk.
12. I believe that you can get away with wearing just about anything if you wear it with confidence. (Example: scarves when you are bald.) There may be some exceptions to that rule, though...
13. I believe that friends are very important. They listen to me rant and rave. They challenge me. They spur me on to do better things. I love my friends!!
14. I believe spending time with family--close or extended--is a very valuable pastime. I don't want to look back later and have regrets that I didn't see a special person one more time.
15. I believe that writing things down (and putting them in a blog!) helps me to organize and process my life!
16. I believe there are many, many government programs that should be cut. Not because the people don't need help but because having a government program makes individuals think they don't need to look out for others. That it is MY job to help my neighbor, not the government.
There, did you make it to the end? I know that, as soon as I publish this blog, I will think of many more things I want to add. So, maybe I will.
Lately, there is someone in my life who is not seeing things quite accurately, in my opinion. I just want to say, "Hey, can you trust me? Can you believe that I may see the bigger picture right now?" It is very hard for me sit back in this situation.
Then, as I was driving to church, I saw a church sign that said, "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not onto your own understanding. Acknowledge Him in all your ways and He will direct your paths." (Prov. 3:5-6).
How often do I look at my life and just struggle and struggle to make it what I want it to be. And does God look at me and say, "Hey, can you trust me? Can you believe that I may see the bigger picture right now?"
Trust. So...
17. I believe God has a plan for my life and that I may be totally unaware of the experiences/circumstances that need to happen to accomplish that plan. That plan is the best way for me. God sees the whole picture, I do not. Oftentimes it is not the way I think would be an easy shortcut to a destination. Oftentimes it hurts terribly. But, I need to trust that He knows.
We have a friend in England who wrote a song called "God Knows." And, at Luke's dedication two pastor's gave us the phrase "God Knows." And He does.
Here are the lyrics to that song:
He hears you when you cry--God knows.
He sees the reasons why--God knows.
He knows just how much you can bear
it grieves Him when you think he doesn't care.
Because He knows.
He holds you when you fall--God knows.
He's God, He sees it all--God knows.
He loves it when you call His name
In times of joy or deep and darkest pain.
Because He knows.
There's a promise in His word
To trust in the Lord--with all your heart
And lean not on your own understanding
And the breath of God, that lives in these words will set you free
If you believe...if you believe.
He has the perfect plan--God knows.
His spirit says "I can"--God knows.
He always has the best for you
Just hold on to your faith, He'll see you through.
When all is said and done, God knows!
He hears you when you cry--God knows.
He sees the reasons why--God knows.
He will always make a way--God knows
And His love will never fade--God knows.
Because when all is said and done, GOD KNOWS!!
God Knows.
Trust.
Friday, February 22, 2013
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
2-5-13 It's All About God.
Ever have the feeling that your life is getting out of control? I was feeling this way lately and it just built and built.
We are having our master bathroom remodeled. Mike McNair is doing an excellent job and is very nice and always cleans up at the end of each workday...BUT...there is dust all over in the master bedroom, I can't do my housework in my jammies in the mornings because there will be carpenters running around, I have to go down the hall to use the potty. And it affects my motivation. I mean, really, why clean up the kitchen when the master bedroom is a mess so the whole house won't be clean? And, those dogs keep the laundry room a mess, so why bother with the living room?
Last Friday I had enough. I guilted Paul into helping me rearrange the furniture in the living room. If any of you knew my mom, she was a Remodeler Extraordinaire. One time, legend has it, she moved a hide-a-bed up a flight of stairs all by herself. While I'm not in her league, I love to rearrange and can do it by myself, usually. (I don't like Loy to help me. He has the annoying habit of wanting to know where everything is going to go BEFORE we move it! Can you believe that guy???) I scoot all sorts of furniture all over. Sometimes I sit down with my back up against something heavy and just push. Sometimes I lift just a little and slide those mover-thingies under the furniture so it'll be easier. I'm good.
But the living room entailed moving the piano and some tall bookshelves. And the bookshelves needed to go through a doorway that was shorter than the shelves. So, I needed my muscle.
I wasn't sure that Paul would really want to help me, so I was prepared with my rebuttal..."Paul, I drove all the way to Sioux Falls to help you move in...you owe me." (I did NOT, however, play the "I gave birth to you" card. I'm saving that one!) But he obliged and I really didn't even need to twist his arm.
And so the big move began. I would empty off a shelf and then tell him where we were going with it. He would say encouraging things like, "Mom, just LIFT it. Don't slide it." He's got no idea of the strength level (or lack thereof) of my flappy arms. I'd answer with, "Just scoot it. We'll get there." Sometimes he would say, "Just let me do it." Other times he would lift his end and I would just push as hard as I could to help him out a little.
He DID make comments about how I had told him I needed help with two pieces of furniture and then expected him to move it all. Well, geez, he was there, wasn't he? Was I supposed to have him help me with just the two and then sit there and watch me struggle??? I'm OK with doing it on my own, but not when there is big muscle around.
We did it. The living room is neatly rearranged and I feel so much better. Nothing like rearranging to make your room feel clean. All the shelves are neatly organized and dusted. I vacuumed the baseboards and organized the remotes. It's great!!
So, then, in my newfound empowerment, I joined Curves last week. (For those of you who don't know, that's a women-only gym chain. 30-minutes and you've done a circuit that works on each muscle group in your body.) I haven't done anything except for walking in several years and I was feeling like my muscles were tightening up while I sat here and watched them. So Friday I went and had the spiel and signed a year-long contract.
Monday was my first trip to actually exercise. I had to have an appointment for that time so that someone would walk around the circuit with me, explaining how the machines worked. I think they are very well trained people in the art of making middle-aged women feel like they want to come back. As near as I can figure, I was the best exerciser she's EVER had!! Imaging that!
One of the fun things about Curves is that you have this little key card and you can put that into the machines you use and it tracks all your details--how many repetitions you did, how hard you worked, your pulse, what you had for breakfast, (oh, I guess not that last one). But they won't let me use it until they are sure I know how to work all the machines. Bummer.
So I went back today to exercise and they would "keep an eye on me." She only had to tell me a few things every now and then. A "move your feet out" or "only rotate 45 degrees on that one." I thought I was doing great. I commented on how I looked forward to using my little key card. She said, "Yes, you'll get there." Sigh. I want to use my little card and see how good I'm doing. Oh, then she added, "And once you get the hang of the machines, you'll need to really push yourself." I thought I was. I guess they only use the major encouragement the first time you go! :)
So, amidst the chaos that is my life right now I have a clean, rearranged living room and am exercising. It's something, right?
The bathroom is supposed to be mostly done this week--after that just waiting for the vanity tops and shower door to be delivered (they had to be ordered). Then I'll reorganize the vanity drawers and dust my bedroom. I'll probably be motivated to reorganize my closet, too. I'll relish sitting around eating breakfast in my jammies.
I'm reading in Ephesians lately. Today I was struck with how our very salvation was all from God. It's not me, it's Him. I always seem to have the impression that "it's all about me." Just like I wanted to be in control of my living room and bathroom and some part of my life, I want to be in control of how things work in my Christian walk. I want the power. I want the control. Me. Me. Me.
Once, a long time ago, someone spoke at Berean and used this illustration (well, sort of this illustration. It was a long time ago.)
I want to think of a list of what I'm going to accomplish in my life. Things like: 1) do a short-term missionary trip somewhere in the US; 2) start a ministry helping new women to our church feel welcomed; 3) see to it that all my children and grandchildren really KNOW God.
These are all good goals. All wonderful Christian things. So, I give this list to God and say, "OK, God. Sign off on all this. It's all good."
But, you know, He doesn't want to sign my list. He doesn't want to help me--like I'm the master and he's the apprentice. He wants to give me a blank sheet of paper and say, "Here, Kitt. Sign this. I'll fill in the details later." And I don't want to do that. I want to know. It's about me and I have a right to know, right?
Nope. It's all about God.
I want to make up my mind right now that I will trust God no matter what. I don't want to have to think about it when tough things happen. I trust God.
I just wanted you all to know that.
Here's a recent picture of Loy and me. He's the one with the white beard!! :)
We are having our master bathroom remodeled. Mike McNair is doing an excellent job and is very nice and always cleans up at the end of each workday...BUT...there is dust all over in the master bedroom, I can't do my housework in my jammies in the mornings because there will be carpenters running around, I have to go down the hall to use the potty. And it affects my motivation. I mean, really, why clean up the kitchen when the master bedroom is a mess so the whole house won't be clean? And, those dogs keep the laundry room a mess, so why bother with the living room?
Last Friday I had enough. I guilted Paul into helping me rearrange the furniture in the living room. If any of you knew my mom, she was a Remodeler Extraordinaire. One time, legend has it, she moved a hide-a-bed up a flight of stairs all by herself. While I'm not in her league, I love to rearrange and can do it by myself, usually. (I don't like Loy to help me. He has the annoying habit of wanting to know where everything is going to go BEFORE we move it! Can you believe that guy???) I scoot all sorts of furniture all over. Sometimes I sit down with my back up against something heavy and just push. Sometimes I lift just a little and slide those mover-thingies under the furniture so it'll be easier. I'm good.
But the living room entailed moving the piano and some tall bookshelves. And the bookshelves needed to go through a doorway that was shorter than the shelves. So, I needed my muscle.
I wasn't sure that Paul would really want to help me, so I was prepared with my rebuttal..."Paul, I drove all the way to Sioux Falls to help you move in...you owe me." (I did NOT, however, play the "I gave birth to you" card. I'm saving that one!) But he obliged and I really didn't even need to twist his arm.
And so the big move began. I would empty off a shelf and then tell him where we were going with it. He would say encouraging things like, "Mom, just LIFT it. Don't slide it." He's got no idea of the strength level (or lack thereof) of my flappy arms. I'd answer with, "Just scoot it. We'll get there." Sometimes he would say, "Just let me do it." Other times he would lift his end and I would just push as hard as I could to help him out a little.
He DID make comments about how I had told him I needed help with two pieces of furniture and then expected him to move it all. Well, geez, he was there, wasn't he? Was I supposed to have him help me with just the two and then sit there and watch me struggle??? I'm OK with doing it on my own, but not when there is big muscle around.
We did it. The living room is neatly rearranged and I feel so much better. Nothing like rearranging to make your room feel clean. All the shelves are neatly organized and dusted. I vacuumed the baseboards and organized the remotes. It's great!!
So, then, in my newfound empowerment, I joined Curves last week. (For those of you who don't know, that's a women-only gym chain. 30-minutes and you've done a circuit that works on each muscle group in your body.) I haven't done anything except for walking in several years and I was feeling like my muscles were tightening up while I sat here and watched them. So Friday I went and had the spiel and signed a year-long contract.
Monday was my first trip to actually exercise. I had to have an appointment for that time so that someone would walk around the circuit with me, explaining how the machines worked. I think they are very well trained people in the art of making middle-aged women feel like they want to come back. As near as I can figure, I was the best exerciser she's EVER had!! Imaging that!
One of the fun things about Curves is that you have this little key card and you can put that into the machines you use and it tracks all your details--how many repetitions you did, how hard you worked, your pulse, what you had for breakfast, (oh, I guess not that last one). But they won't let me use it until they are sure I know how to work all the machines. Bummer.
So I went back today to exercise and they would "keep an eye on me." She only had to tell me a few things every now and then. A "move your feet out" or "only rotate 45 degrees on that one." I thought I was doing great. I commented on how I looked forward to using my little key card. She said, "Yes, you'll get there." Sigh. I want to use my little card and see how good I'm doing. Oh, then she added, "And once you get the hang of the machines, you'll need to really push yourself." I thought I was. I guess they only use the major encouragement the first time you go! :)
So, amidst the chaos that is my life right now I have a clean, rearranged living room and am exercising. It's something, right?
The bathroom is supposed to be mostly done this week--after that just waiting for the vanity tops and shower door to be delivered (they had to be ordered). Then I'll reorganize the vanity drawers and dust my bedroom. I'll probably be motivated to reorganize my closet, too. I'll relish sitting around eating breakfast in my jammies.
I'm reading in Ephesians lately. Today I was struck with how our very salvation was all from God. It's not me, it's Him. I always seem to have the impression that "it's all about me." Just like I wanted to be in control of my living room and bathroom and some part of my life, I want to be in control of how things work in my Christian walk. I want the power. I want the control. Me. Me. Me.
Once, a long time ago, someone spoke at Berean and used this illustration (well, sort of this illustration. It was a long time ago.)
I want to think of a list of what I'm going to accomplish in my life. Things like: 1) do a short-term missionary trip somewhere in the US; 2) start a ministry helping new women to our church feel welcomed; 3) see to it that all my children and grandchildren really KNOW God.
These are all good goals. All wonderful Christian things. So, I give this list to God and say, "OK, God. Sign off on all this. It's all good."
But, you know, He doesn't want to sign my list. He doesn't want to help me--like I'm the master and he's the apprentice. He wants to give me a blank sheet of paper and say, "Here, Kitt. Sign this. I'll fill in the details later." And I don't want to do that. I want to know. It's about me and I have a right to know, right?
Nope. It's all about God.
I want to make up my mind right now that I will trust God no matter what. I don't want to have to think about it when tough things happen. I trust God.
I just wanted you all to know that.
Here's a recent picture of Loy and me. He's the one with the white beard!! :)
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
1-8-13 Remembering
I've been remembering about remembering lately. Deep thoughts. Wise thoughts. Insightful thoughts. (At least they seemed that way in the middle of the night!)
It all began with a call from Grant in Sioux Falls. Or maybe it was a text--I can't remember. "Grandma has broken both bones in her left leg and needs surgery." My sweet little mother-in-law was out shoveling snow and fell, landing square on a wrongly turned ankle. (Yes, we have scolded her for being out there shoveling.)
She's one tough little lady, though. She walked (with a limp) into the house and called Grant to come over to make the decision on what she needed. He, being a cross country coach, is very skilled in leg/ankle/foot injuries. His decision was the correct one this time.
So we headed up to Sioux Falls for New Year's weekend, getting to the hospital just as Dolores's surgery was completed. By the time they let us all see her she was fully conscious and not at all entertaining to listen to. (I remember Lex saying, "I can't feel by doze. I can't feel by doze." (Translation: "I can't feel my nose.") And Logan's famous lines, "Dad, you pushed me!" or "I LOVE anesthesia." Grant is never too entertaining with anesthesia because he just sleeps and sleeps and sleeps. And Paul hasn't ever been "out," as far as I can remember.)
One unexpected revelation that weekend was regarding my father-in-law's memory loss issues. They are much more pronounced than any of us realized. I would have to say that there is probably not a single conversation with Dale that is not tainted by his memory like Swiss cheese. It's so hard to sit by and watch someone you love just slowly sort of drift off on their own.
"Remember the wonders he has performed,
his miracles, and the rulings he has given" I Chron. 16:12
I made a resolution to take a moment to remember. Remembering little things from my life, remembering how good God has been to me.
It all began with a call from Grant in Sioux Falls. Or maybe it was a text--I can't remember. "Grandma has broken both bones in her left leg and needs surgery." My sweet little mother-in-law was out shoveling snow and fell, landing square on a wrongly turned ankle. (Yes, we have scolded her for being out there shoveling.)
She's one tough little lady, though. She walked (with a limp) into the house and called Grant to come over to make the decision on what she needed. He, being a cross country coach, is very skilled in leg/ankle/foot injuries. His decision was the correct one this time.
So we headed up to Sioux Falls for New Year's weekend, getting to the hospital just as Dolores's surgery was completed. By the time they let us all see her she was fully conscious and not at all entertaining to listen to. (I remember Lex saying, "I can't feel by doze. I can't feel by doze." (Translation: "I can't feel my nose.") And Logan's famous lines, "Dad, you pushed me!" or "I LOVE anesthesia." Grant is never too entertaining with anesthesia because he just sleeps and sleeps and sleeps. And Paul hasn't ever been "out," as far as I can remember.)
One unexpected revelation that weekend was regarding my father-in-law's memory loss issues. They are much more pronounced than any of us realized. I would have to say that there is probably not a single conversation with Dale that is not tainted by his memory like Swiss cheese. It's so hard to sit by and watch someone you love just slowly sort of drift off on their own.
"Remember the wonders he has performed,
his miracles, and the rulings he has given" I Chron. 16:12
I made a resolution to take a moment to remember. Remembering little things from my life, remembering how good God has been to me.
I remember being the little sister who was pampered and totally loved during my young years. I remember hanging out with these older teenage boys (my brothers and their friends) and running races and being swung around by strong boys.
I remember clinging to established friends, not really being very good at making new friends during junior high. But I had a best friend who excelled at that, so I got new friends through her extraverted-ness.
I remember when I finally realized that I could live my life without being terrified of dying, the wonderful feeling of a weight being lifted off my shoulders.
I remember feeling very alone after moving to Illinois for high school, thinking that everyone else knew each other and everyone else went out drinking and I just did NOT fit in.
I remember seeing Loy (before I ever met him) doing a crazy cheer out in the middle of Creighton's basketball game. I thought, "That is one party guy. Definitely NOT my type." Really. I thought that. When I met him at BSU months later and finally figured out where I had seen him he was so proud. And, believe me, he was a crazy man out there on the bball court. And now it will be our 32nd anniversary in two days. Can you believe it?? 32 years!! YAY!!
I remember having four babies in five years and loving that stage of my life. That was the time of life I had always waited for. But then I remember each new stage being just as wonderful as the one before.
I remember feeling the loss when my mother died, then five years later, my dad died. I remember saying, "God, I know they are in a better place and I know you can do all things. But, if a thousand years is like a day, couldn't you have left them here a few more years???" I remember telling my kids lots of Grandma and Grandpa Rogers stories so they can remember something that they really can't remember because they did not ever know my parents.
I remember hearing that "cancer" word and thinking, "God, I cannot do this. Don't make me do this." And you know what, He was there and I came out of that experience totally convinced that God is good. All the time.
I remember getting a little 3-year-old boy and struggling so much to keep him occupied and sitting, rocking, while singing songs for hours on end. I remember hearing his running footsteps every weekend morning as he came dive bombing into our bed. I remember him running and playing outside with the dogs every afternoon.
I hope to have many more years ahead of me to make wonderful memories. Thanks for taking this trip down memory lane with me!
Talk to you soon...if I can remember!
Kitt.
This is our little sweetie, Payton, who we will remember spending lots of wonderful visits with!!
I remember having four babies in five years and loving that stage of my life. That was the time of life I had always waited for. But then I remember each new stage being just as wonderful as the one before.
I remember feeling the loss when my mother died, then five years later, my dad died. I remember saying, "God, I know they are in a better place and I know you can do all things. But, if a thousand years is like a day, couldn't you have left them here a few more years???" I remember telling my kids lots of Grandma and Grandpa Rogers stories so they can remember something that they really can't remember because they did not ever know my parents.
I remember hearing that "cancer" word and thinking, "God, I cannot do this. Don't make me do this." And you know what, He was there and I came out of that experience totally convinced that God is good. All the time.
I remember getting a little 3-year-old boy and struggling so much to keep him occupied and sitting, rocking, while singing songs for hours on end. I remember hearing his running footsteps every weekend morning as he came dive bombing into our bed. I remember him running and playing outside with the dogs every afternoon.
I hope to have many more years ahead of me to make wonderful memories. Thanks for taking this trip down memory lane with me!
Talk to you soon...if I can remember!
Kitt.
This is our little sweetie, Payton, who we will remember spending lots of wonderful visits with!!
Thursday, December 20, 2012
12-20 A Gift
Hello everyone!
Today I was granted a special gift from God--a wonderful Snow Day!!! (You probably didn't realize it was just for me, did you?) I wasn't sure people still got those treats once you were not a part of a school family. But, here it is. I love it! It's just as much fun as when I was a kid--although my activities are different.
I did NOT go outside and build a snowman. I did NOT go sledding. I have NOT engaged in a single snowball fight with the neighbors. I've kept myself tucked in the house. Made fudge. Took a nap. I plan on doing some more cookies when I'm done with this blog. Just a quiet day to be home alone--well, not alone. I've got the two beast-dogs here.
First they want out. Then they want in. Then they want out. Then in. Get the idea? They love the snow but maybe it makes their little feet cold. The backyard looks terrible--all full of tracks and yellow spots. If I want to make real snow cones I'd better be sure to hit the front yard snow. :}
Today began my SIX DAY vacation from work!! I love my job, but I am sure ready to just be home and rest for six days. Sweats. No make up. Fuzzy socks. This is the life!!
For Christmas our schedule resembles something that an airport controller may have to look at. I have people coming and going, all at different times. It's crazy, but we have a three hour window when all five of the kids and their spouses and grandbaby will be here. We've had to modify our family traditions to fit this window.
December 21:
Sometime Paul gets here.
December 24:
Sometime this day Logan and Jenna come.
2:00 p.m. Luke arrives.
3:00 p.m. Grant, Angela, Payton hope to arrive (hoping that planes are not delayed!)
3:30 p.m. Lex, Corey, and Enoch come over.
3:45 p.m. Luke gives presents and gets presents.
4:45 p.m. Loy leaves for church.
5:00 p.m. Luke leaves.
5:15 p.m. Everyone leaves to go to church.
6:00 p.m. Church service.
7:30 p.m. Arrive back at our house.
7:35 p.m. Everyone gives and gets presents.
8:35 p.m. Late soup supper.
9:30 p.m. Logan and Jenna leave for Columbus
9:35 p.m. Lex, Corey, and Enoch head home.
Kind of busy, right? I'm working very hard to not be THAT mother-in-law who causes problems and demands things always go her way. Go with the flow. Bend like a willow. Don't sweat the small stuff. Chill. That's my motto. And it's hard to keep that in mind when our schedule looks so crazy.
So, if you're waiting for something profound or hilarious in this blog entry, sorry. Not happening today. I'm just resting and relaxing and chilling.
And I love, love, love it!!
I hope you get a chance to just be still during all this craziness we've made Christmas. To recharge your flagging batteries. To not have to actually cross anything off a "To Do" list. I wouldn't want to live like this all the time, but it's a delicious indulgence!!
Be still, and know that I am God!--Psalm 46:10
Love,
Kitt.
I love this story. I've probably posted it somewhere before. But it's just so darned good!!
Today I was granted a special gift from God--a wonderful Snow Day!!! (You probably didn't realize it was just for me, did you?) I wasn't sure people still got those treats once you were not a part of a school family. But, here it is. I love it! It's just as much fun as when I was a kid--although my activities are different.
I did NOT go outside and build a snowman. I did NOT go sledding. I have NOT engaged in a single snowball fight with the neighbors. I've kept myself tucked in the house. Made fudge. Took a nap. I plan on doing some more cookies when I'm done with this blog. Just a quiet day to be home alone--well, not alone. I've got the two beast-dogs here.
First they want out. Then they want in. Then they want out. Then in. Get the idea? They love the snow but maybe it makes their little feet cold. The backyard looks terrible--all full of tracks and yellow spots. If I want to make real snow cones I'd better be sure to hit the front yard snow. :}
Today began my SIX DAY vacation from work!! I love my job, but I am sure ready to just be home and rest for six days. Sweats. No make up. Fuzzy socks. This is the life!!
For Christmas our schedule resembles something that an airport controller may have to look at. I have people coming and going, all at different times. It's crazy, but we have a three hour window when all five of the kids and their spouses and grandbaby will be here. We've had to modify our family traditions to fit this window.
December 21:
Sometime Paul gets here.
December 24:
Sometime this day Logan and Jenna come.
2:00 p.m. Luke arrives.
3:00 p.m. Grant, Angela, Payton hope to arrive (hoping that planes are not delayed!)
3:30 p.m. Lex, Corey, and Enoch come over.
3:45 p.m. Luke gives presents and gets presents.
4:45 p.m. Loy leaves for church.
5:00 p.m. Luke leaves.
5:15 p.m. Everyone leaves to go to church.
6:00 p.m. Church service.
7:30 p.m. Arrive back at our house.
7:35 p.m. Everyone gives and gets presents.
8:35 p.m. Late soup supper.
9:30 p.m. Logan and Jenna leave for Columbus
9:35 p.m. Lex, Corey, and Enoch head home.
Kind of busy, right? I'm working very hard to not be THAT mother-in-law who causes problems and demands things always go her way. Go with the flow. Bend like a willow. Don't sweat the small stuff. Chill. That's my motto. And it's hard to keep that in mind when our schedule looks so crazy.
So, if you're waiting for something profound or hilarious in this blog entry, sorry. Not happening today. I'm just resting and relaxing and chilling.
And I love, love, love it!!
I hope you get a chance to just be still during all this craziness we've made Christmas. To recharge your flagging batteries. To not have to actually cross anything off a "To Do" list. I wouldn't want to live like this all the time, but it's a delicious indulgence!!
Be still, and know that I am God!--Psalm 46:10
Love,
Kitt.
I love this story. I've probably posted it somewhere before. But it's just so darned good!!
The Man and the Birds
by Paul Harvey
by Paul Harvey
The man to whom I’m going to introduce you was not a scrooge, he was a kind decent, mostly good man. Generous to his family, upright in his dealings with other men. But he just didn’t believe all that incarnation stuff which the churches proclaim at Christmas Time. It just didn’t make sense and he was too honest to pretend otherwise. He just couldn’t swallow the Jesus Story, about God coming to Earth as a man.
“I’m truly sorry to distress you,” he told his wife, “but I’m not going with you to church this Christmas Eve.” He said he’d feel like a hypocrite. That he’d much rather just stay at home, but that he would wait up for them. And so he stayed and they went to the midnight service.
Shortly after the family drove away in the car, snow began to fall. He went to the window to watch the flurries getting heavier and heavier and then went back to his fireside chair and began to read his newspaper. Minutes later he was startled by a thudding sound…Then another, and then another. Sort of a thump or a thud…At first he thought someone must be throwing snowballs against his living room window. But when he went to the front door to investigate he found a flock of birds huddled miserably in the snow. They’d been caught in the storm and, in a desperate search for shelter, had tried to fly through his large landscape window.
Well, he couldn’t let the poor creatures lie there and freeze, so he remembered the barn where his children stabled their pony. That would provide a warm shelter, if he could direct the birds to it.
Quickly he put on a coat, galoshes, tramped through the deepening snow to the barn. He opened the doors wide and turned on a light, but the birds did not come in. He figured food would entice them in. So he hurried back to the house, fetched bread crumbs, sprinkled them on the snow, making a trail to the yellow-lighted wide open doorway of the stable. But to his dismay, the birds ignored the bread crumbs, and continued to flap around helplessly in the snow. He tried catching them…He tried shooing them into the barn by walking around them waving his arms…Instead, they scattered in every direction, except into the warm, lighted barn.
And then, he realized that they were afraid of him. To them, he reasoned, I am a strange and terrifying creature. If only I could think of some way to let them know that they can trust me…That I am not trying to hurt them, but to help them. But how? Because any move he made tended to frighten them, confuse them. They just would not follow. They would not be led or shooed because they feared him.
“If only I could be a bird,” he thought to himself, “and mingle with them and speak their language. Then I could tell them not to be afraid. Then I could show them the way to safe, warm…to the safe warm barn. But I would have to be one of them so they could see, and hear and understand.”
At that moment the church bells began to ring. The sound reached his ears above the sounds of the wind. And he stood there listening to the bells – Adeste Fidelis – listening to the bells pealing the glad tidings of Christmas.
And he sank to his knees in the snow.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Flying...as in Reindeer??
Good, Bad, or Ugly… Watley Top Ten Events of 2012
10. Loy was promoted to full professor at
Nebraska Wesleyan University. He still enjoys playing the bass in the Faith
Bible Church worship band. And I took on responsibility for some of the
bookkeeping at the Lancaster County Medical Society
9.
Dogs. Naughtier and
naughtier. They love to jump the fence and chew and wrestle, but are beginning
to settle down a little bit, now that they are 1-1/2 years old. Pip, the
papi-poo, is on the right, Sparky, the shihtzu-poo, on the left. Their common
thread? Poo.
8.
Lots of fun travel:
Phoenix with Luke, Arkansas-Missouri-Oklahoma with Luke and Loy, Michigan with
Loy. Plus I got to meet a long-time pen pal and sneak in some fun times with
dear friends. Loy and Grant and Paul went to San Diego to see the Padres. Paul
took an Odyssey out west…a month-long trip to visit national parks and
friends—just because he could.
7. Loy and I took a wonderful trip to North
Captiva Island in October. No cars. No shopping. No work. No wi-fi!! Walks on the beach, reading books, and
sleeping in. Gorgeous sunsets. Great trip!
6.
Loy broke his elbow in
July. While the break itself did not seem too terribly serious, he has had
months of physical therapy to regain full movement of his right arm. Luckily,
he’s left-handed. His first thought after falling? “Oh no! I dropped my ice
cream!”
5. After graduating from NWU with majors in Business
Administration and Sports Management, Paul moved to Macomb, Illinois, for
graduate school at Western Illinois University. But after one semester, he
learned that he wants to be close to family and will be moving to Sioux Falls
to enroll in University of Sioux Falls’ MBA program. Sports Information is his
career track. He's on the left in this picture at his friend, Parker's wedding. Here’s what Paul says I should say: “Paul is, not only the smartest, most caring and funniest of our
children, but he is also the best looking (and in all honesty, our favorite).
Paul spends his free time making the world a better place with his great sense
of humor and good looks. Paul's brothers, Logan and Grant, wish everyday that
they were half the man that Paul is, but all they can do is hope because no one
will ever be as manly as Paul.”
4. Logan and Jenna moved to Elkhorn, Nebraska. Jenna teaches 4th grade for Elkhorn Public Schools and Logan is a CPA at Melotz and Wilson. They bought a house within sight-lines of Village Point Mall. Logan has run in two marathons—Boston (where the weather was SWELTERING) and was scheduled to run the New York Marathon (a week after Superstorm Sandy). Springfield, MO, substituted at the very last minute for NYC. Jenna got her Master’s degree in Educational Leadership from Doane. Logan’s response to Paul’s comments: “As long as we’re lying, I am Superman, drive a Ferrari, and stay up past 11 o'clock on the weekend.”
3.
Alexis and Corey welcomed 18-year-old Ghanan Enoch Katani into their home. We
love having him in our family. He is a junior at Lincoln East High School and
enjoys playing soccer. In December Alexis will graduate from UNL with a Master’s
in Actuarial Science and has accepted a job with Coventry Health in Omaha.
Corey has been busy working on updating their Lincoln house. About all this
trash talk from brothers, Lex says, “I’m
staying out of it. Let the brothers have fun.”
2.
After nearly four years,
Luke went back to live with his biological mother. Her desire, not ours. We are
sad.
1.
Grant and Angela welcomed a little sweetie into their lives. Payton Lynn was
born April 5 and we are now Grammy and Gramps!! YAY!! However, after giving us
a taste of grandparenting in the same city, they moved so Grant could accept
the job of Head Cross Country Coach at University of Sioux Falls. I think there
are laws against this kind of elder-abuse. Also, in his spare time, he is well
on his way to earning his Doctorate of Education in Sports Management from the
U.S. Sports Academy. Angela graduated from Wesleyan with a degree in Health and
Fitness and is totally enjoying being a mother—and doing a great job.
And, by the way, Luke thinks he should be included in all pictures!! Grant’s rather verbose take on his life:
“Grant is the most masculine of the brothers.
In the past year he has increased his bench press to slightly over 350 pounds
and can front squat nearly 800 pounds. His time is spent power lifting, toning
his gluteals, and teaching aerobics to underprivileged children in Africa.
Angela lives the life that many women dream of living. As if being married to
Grant was not enough, she delivered the world’s cutest baby, Payton, into the world.
Within minutes of Payton's arrival, the Pope, President Obama, and Santa Claus
all called to congratulate her on a job well done. She spends her time
scrapbooking Grant's power lifting competition medals and changing every one of
Payton's diapers. Payton already has an IQ greater than her uncles’ combined
IQs. While that isn’t much of an accomplishment, she is well on her way to a
lucrative professional sumo wrestling career.”
We’ve had some
tough times this year as well as some great times and God has been so faithful
to us. Things have not always gone the way we want, but we can say, without
hesitation, that God is good. All the time.
Merry Christmas
and a Happy New Year!! Love, Loy and Kitt
Saturday, December 1, 2012
12-1 Flying with a Backwards Glance
Christmastime. I love it. Except for the realization, as I am pulling out all my favorite decorating items, that in one month's time I have to put them all away again. My German pessimism coming out again, I'm afraid.
Growing up it was so magical it almost hurt to wait and wait and wait for the Big Day. We always opened our presents on Christmas Eve, right after a beautiful church service, complete with every person getting to light a candle while singing "Silent Night." After that Mom would have a table set with goodies and munchies.
My brothers were much older than Bunny and I (hmmm...guess they still are!), so they were married and starting their families during these golden memory times. We were always glad they married girls from our town so we could have them on the 24th and they would spend the 25th at the in-laws. One time Den and Gail arrived after we had left for church. When we returned they told me that I had "just missed Santa. And we petted Rudolph!" That was kind of a bummer guys!! To just miss him!
I remember the first Christmas after I was told the stark reality of certain fictional-characters-that-I-thought-were-real. Bummer. I was really sad. So I determined I wouldn't go that route with my own kiddoes. While we watched "Rudolf" or "Frosty," we always told them he was pretend. One time 3-year-old Logan told the neighbor boy that "Santa is dead." We never said that!! Really!
I was always in charge of decorating the tree. Daddy had about 12 strings of lights that he required to be on-tree. He loved the flashing ones. Not sequenced. The kind where whole chunks of your tree go black for awhile then light up again. So, needless to say, our tree was a mass of flashing lights. And also, needless to say, we use two strings on our tree now and NONE of them flash or sequence. :)
Mom loved to shop. No, she LOVED to shop. With tons of presents under the tree she and I had a battle going. She would make piles of presents. Here was my pile. Here was Bun's pile. Here were the piles for the boys. That didn't go over well with me. I'd get home from school and artistically arrange the presents under the tree--all mixed up. When I got home the next day there were the piles. How annoying that must've been to her! When you opened one she would invariably say, "That was originally $89. . . I got it for $3." That would be followed by, "You can return it if you want."
My dad always bought each of us girls one gift. He would go out on Christmas Eve Day and buy it. It was always so special to us, whatever he got. Earrings (the Christmas after Mom let me get my ears pierced against Daddy's wishes), a robe, and, gee, I can't remember any other gifts from him!
We've kept some of the traditions. Open presents on Christmas Eve after going to church. (When we have lived someplace that didn't have a Christmas Eve service we told the kids they had to wait for the first star to come out. Or, in cloudy weather, for the street lamps to come on. I went with the three presents per person: one clothes, one useful, and one fun. Now that there are married kids I've adapted to three gifts per couple: one couple gift and one for each person in the couple. I'm going to have to write another chapter on dealing with grandchildren...I'd buy them everything if I don't have a rule to follow!
I just found out a few years ago that we have a tradition that I make cheesy potato soup each Christmas Eve. I didn't realize I did that all the time, but now it's written down in the Watley Manual (that the kids think we have.)
Loy buys the stocking stuffers (errr...I mean Santa leaves the stocking stuffers). They are elaborately filled with all sorts of goodies. One item is always a new toothbrush. The rest can vary. There are so many things that usually it is a pile topped with a flat stocking so we know who gets what. We've told the kids that only people who stay overnight here on Christmas Eve get stockings. There have been grumblings in the ranks over this. :)
It seems like there has been a trend among us Christians to put a damper on my celebrations. Like I'm wrong to want to buy my kids presents and that if I don't have a "Happy Birthday, Jesus" cake I'm some sort of a heathen. But you know, the Bible doesn't tell us to celebrate Jesus's birth like it does tell us to celebrate other things. There are no rules written there. I've been pondering that lately.
What do I really love about Christmas?
I LOVE giving my loved ones gifts that I have thoughtfully purchased. I think I actually probably love giving more than getting. (But, kids, don't get any ideas!) It's not so much the gift itself but the fact that someone thought about me and chose a specific item thinking it would make me happy. "So if you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask him. Matthew 7:10-12 I am not going to apologize to anyone giving gifts to those I love.
I LOVE being with my family. Love, love, love it. And it struck me that when I get to heaven it might be like that...a homecoming. Joy at seeing everyone. Lots of talking and laughing and loving spending time together. Just a thought I had...
I LOVE eating special foods. Things we don't eat any other time of year. Divinity. Grandma Rogers Sugar Cookies with frosting (even though I am the worst cookie decorator EVER. They still taste fantastic!)
I LOVE thinking about a baby born in a manger to a young virgin and the wise men and the shepherds. That is a wonderful historical image. But you know, that doesn't give life. It's miraculous, but we weren't saved when He was born.
It isn't about the miracles Jesus did while He was here on earth. Those are amazing. They are wonderful. I don't know why He show Himself in so many miracles now. But, they don't give life.
It's not even just about His dying on the cross. Lots of people have died on crosses throughout history. That doesn't give us life.
It's about what happened AFTER the cross that is life giving. Life changing. Like nothing ever. Jesus was on that cross dying thinking of me. Taking the penalty for the sins I would commit. Being separated from His Father because of me. But, the great news, He rose again. For me.
It was His gift. But, it will do me no good at all if I leave it in a pile under the tree.
I'm not going to lie. I don't understand it all. I don't know why it had to be this way. But I KNOW that I KNOW that I KNOW that it is true.
Here's one of my favorite Christmas songs. Hope you like it.
Merry Christmas!!!
It's not just about the manger
Where the baby lay
It's not all about the angels
Who sang for him that day
It's not just about the shepherds
Or the bright and shining star
It's not all about the wisemen
Who travelled from afar
It's about the cross
It's about my sin
It's about how Jesus came to be born once
So that we could be born again
It's about the stone
That was rolled away
So that you and I could have real life someday
It's about the cross
It's about the cross
It's not just about the presents
Underneath the tree
It's not all about the feeling
That the season brings to me
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/g/go_fish/about_the_cross.html ]
It's not just about coming home
To be with those you love
It's not all about the beauty
In the snow I'm dreaming of
The beginning of the story is wonderful and great
But it's the ending that can save you and that's why we celebrate
It's about the cross
It's about my sin
It's about how Jesus came to be born once
So that we could be born again
It's about God's love
Nailed to a tree
It's about every drop of blood that flowed from Him when it should have been me
It's about the stone
That was rolled away
So that you and I could have real life someday
So that you and I could have real life someday
It's about the cross
It's about the cross
<pre><span style='font-size:1.5em'>Go Fish - About The Cross lyrics</span>
<a href="http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/g/go_fish/about_the_cross.html" target="_blank" title="About The Cross lyrics by Go Fish">Go Fish - About The Cross lyrics | LyricsMode.com</a>
Growing up it was so magical it almost hurt to wait and wait and wait for the Big Day. We always opened our presents on Christmas Eve, right after a beautiful church service, complete with every person getting to light a candle while singing "Silent Night." After that Mom would have a table set with goodies and munchies.
My brothers were much older than Bunny and I (hmmm...guess they still are!), so they were married and starting their families during these golden memory times. We were always glad they married girls from our town so we could have them on the 24th and they would spend the 25th at the in-laws. One time Den and Gail arrived after we had left for church. When we returned they told me that I had "just missed Santa. And we petted Rudolph!" That was kind of a bummer guys!! To just miss him!
I remember the first Christmas after I was told the stark reality of certain fictional-characters-that-I-thought-were-real. Bummer. I was really sad. So I determined I wouldn't go that route with my own kiddoes. While we watched "Rudolf" or "Frosty," we always told them he was pretend. One time 3-year-old Logan told the neighbor boy that "Santa is dead." We never said that!! Really!
I was always in charge of decorating the tree. Daddy had about 12 strings of lights that he required to be on-tree. He loved the flashing ones. Not sequenced. The kind where whole chunks of your tree go black for awhile then light up again. So, needless to say, our tree was a mass of flashing lights. And also, needless to say, we use two strings on our tree now and NONE of them flash or sequence. :)
Mom loved to shop. No, she LOVED to shop. With tons of presents under the tree she and I had a battle going. She would make piles of presents. Here was my pile. Here was Bun's pile. Here were the piles for the boys. That didn't go over well with me. I'd get home from school and artistically arrange the presents under the tree--all mixed up. When I got home the next day there were the piles. How annoying that must've been to her! When you opened one she would invariably say, "That was originally $89. . . I got it for $3." That would be followed by, "You can return it if you want."
My dad always bought each of us girls one gift. He would go out on Christmas Eve Day and buy it. It was always so special to us, whatever he got. Earrings (the Christmas after Mom let me get my ears pierced against Daddy's wishes), a robe, and, gee, I can't remember any other gifts from him!
We've kept some of the traditions. Open presents on Christmas Eve after going to church. (When we have lived someplace that didn't have a Christmas Eve service we told the kids they had to wait for the first star to come out. Or, in cloudy weather, for the street lamps to come on. I went with the three presents per person: one clothes, one useful, and one fun. Now that there are married kids I've adapted to three gifts per couple: one couple gift and one for each person in the couple. I'm going to have to write another chapter on dealing with grandchildren...I'd buy them everything if I don't have a rule to follow!
I just found out a few years ago that we have a tradition that I make cheesy potato soup each Christmas Eve. I didn't realize I did that all the time, but now it's written down in the Watley Manual (that the kids think we have.)
Loy buys the stocking stuffers (errr...I mean Santa leaves the stocking stuffers). They are elaborately filled with all sorts of goodies. One item is always a new toothbrush. The rest can vary. There are so many things that usually it is a pile topped with a flat stocking so we know who gets what. We've told the kids that only people who stay overnight here on Christmas Eve get stockings. There have been grumblings in the ranks over this. :)
It seems like there has been a trend among us Christians to put a damper on my celebrations. Like I'm wrong to want to buy my kids presents and that if I don't have a "Happy Birthday, Jesus" cake I'm some sort of a heathen. But you know, the Bible doesn't tell us to celebrate Jesus's birth like it does tell us to celebrate other things. There are no rules written there. I've been pondering that lately.
What do I really love about Christmas?
I LOVE giving my loved ones gifts that I have thoughtfully purchased. I think I actually probably love giving more than getting. (But, kids, don't get any ideas!) It's not so much the gift itself but the fact that someone thought about me and chose a specific item thinking it would make me happy. "So if you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask him. Matthew 7:10-12 I am not going to apologize to anyone giving gifts to those I love.
I LOVE being with my family. Love, love, love it. And it struck me that when I get to heaven it might be like that...a homecoming. Joy at seeing everyone. Lots of talking and laughing and loving spending time together. Just a thought I had...
I LOVE eating special foods. Things we don't eat any other time of year. Divinity. Grandma Rogers Sugar Cookies with frosting (even though I am the worst cookie decorator EVER. They still taste fantastic!)
I LOVE thinking about a baby born in a manger to a young virgin and the wise men and the shepherds. That is a wonderful historical image. But you know, that doesn't give life. It's miraculous, but we weren't saved when He was born.
It isn't about the miracles Jesus did while He was here on earth. Those are amazing. They are wonderful. I don't know why He show Himself in so many miracles now. But, they don't give life.
It's not even just about His dying on the cross. Lots of people have died on crosses throughout history. That doesn't give us life.
It's about what happened AFTER the cross that is life giving. Life changing. Like nothing ever. Jesus was on that cross dying thinking of me. Taking the penalty for the sins I would commit. Being separated from His Father because of me. But, the great news, He rose again. For me.
It was His gift. But, it will do me no good at all if I leave it in a pile under the tree.
I'm not going to lie. I don't understand it all. I don't know why it had to be this way. But I KNOW that I KNOW that I KNOW that it is true.
Here's one of my favorite Christmas songs. Hope you like it.
Merry Christmas!!!
It's not just about the manger
Where the baby lay
It's not all about the angels
Who sang for him that day
It's not just about the shepherds
Or the bright and shining star
It's not all about the wisemen
Who travelled from afar
It's about the cross
It's about my sin
It's about how Jesus came to be born once
So that we could be born again
It's about the stone
That was rolled away
So that you and I could have real life someday
It's about the cross
It's about the cross
It's not just about the presents
Underneath the tree
It's not all about the feeling
That the season brings to me
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/g/go_fish/about_the_cross.html ]
It's not just about coming home
To be with those you love
It's not all about the beauty
In the snow I'm dreaming of
The beginning of the story is wonderful and great
But it's the ending that can save you and that's why we celebrate
It's about the cross
It's about my sin
It's about how Jesus came to be born once
So that we could be born again
It's about God's love
Nailed to a tree
It's about every drop of blood that flowed from Him when it should have been me
It's about the stone
That was rolled away
So that you and I could have real life someday
So that you and I could have real life someday
It's about the cross
It's about the cross
<pre><span style='font-size:1.5em'>Go Fish - About The Cross lyrics</span>
<a href="http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/g/go_fish/about_the_cross.html" target="_blank" title="About The Cross lyrics by Go Fish">Go Fish - About The Cross lyrics | LyricsMode.com</a>
Sunday, November 25, 2012
11-25 Sometimes I Crash
Happy Thanksgiving to All!
It was a wonderful weekend. The wonderfulness began on Tuesday when I went in to work and my boss told me that, if I would like, I could work a bit late on Tuesday and take Wednesday off!! Do you think I took her up on that? Of course!!
At 7:00 a.m. Paul went over and picked Luke up for a "Boys Only" drive up to Sioux Falls. Luke kept saying he was on a "road trip" with Paul. And Paul definitely knows how to road trip! Then, while Paul was touring 9 apartments (he's moving up there next month) Luke was with Grant and Angela and the cousins. They went to a park and played and played with Payton and went out to eat for "Man Night."
"Man Night" (a/k/a Gorge Yourself on Meat and Junk Food, Play Lots of Video Games, and Burp As Much as Possible Night) is celebrated annually on the Wednesday evening prior to Thanksgiving. It originated back in November 2005 with the Watley Boys and Matt Stull and has evolved to a multi-generational event. While the female species is allowed to cook and shop for this evening, they are not included in the festivities, thank goodness! :)
Thursday was full of wonderful family and tremendous food. Loy's parents, Loy's brother and family, Alexis and Corey and Enoch, Grant and Angela and Payton, Paul, and Luke. Logan and Jenna were on the rotation to go to her side of the family this year, so we muddled through without them. Highlights? Seeing Dolores walking back and forth in front of her new holographic picture to see it change. Naming all the Duggar kids. Watching some of the kids playing basketball out in the backyard.
We came home on Friday evening (after watching the Husker game). Bo Pelini can thank Dolores for the win. When things looked a little grim she got out her musical Husker hat and began playing that for inspiration. I'm sure the team felt the good vibe and picked it up after that. Then we had to drop Luke off, our visit being over.
Paul was here, in and out, for this past week. He had some trouble connecting with any friends but did manage a few meals out with buds. Next semester he is transferring to University of Sioux Falls where he will work towards his MBA. He found an apartment and will begin to look for a job once he gets up there in a few weeks.
Now, the crashing part. Saturday night it just hit me like a pile of bricks. I felt about 100-years-old, like life has just passed me by. The best is over. My kids are no longer in my home. My hair is graying and my jowls are falling. I wear bifocals and can't always see things clearly. While I love my job, it does keep me from the motivation to do things like decorate for Christmas. My dogs poop on the floor. My little boy doesn't live here anymore and I can remember little things like singing in church with him. The life I always dreamed of happened some time in my 30's. Isn't this depressing???
How did this happen? I don't think I like the highlights of my life being those few times when we can all get together. (Although I have a great trip planned for all of us in June!) I need to work on finding what this stage of life looks like and EMBRACING it. Not focusing on mourning how it used to be. I grumped then, too.
Usually I think I am a pretty upbeat person. My life went on when first my mom and then my dad died when I was in my 20's. I didn't mourn when the kids went off to college. I kept my sense of humor through cancer. I'm pretty sure this funk will pass tomorrow morning. But, for today, I feel sad.
Crash.
I'll go pet the naughty dogs. And give Loy a hug. Maybe take a long bath and read a book.
God will carry me in His arms. (Ps. 68:19b) and I'll snuggle up to Him and just rest.
It was a wonderful weekend. The wonderfulness began on Tuesday when I went in to work and my boss told me that, if I would like, I could work a bit late on Tuesday and take Wednesday off!! Do you think I took her up on that? Of course!!
At 7:00 a.m. Paul went over and picked Luke up for a "Boys Only" drive up to Sioux Falls. Luke kept saying he was on a "road trip" with Paul. And Paul definitely knows how to road trip! Then, while Paul was touring 9 apartments (he's moving up there next month) Luke was with Grant and Angela and the cousins. They went to a park and played and played with Payton and went out to eat for "Man Night."
"Man Night" (a/k/a Gorge Yourself on Meat and Junk Food, Play Lots of Video Games, and Burp As Much as Possible Night) is celebrated annually on the Wednesday evening prior to Thanksgiving. It originated back in November 2005 with the Watley Boys and Matt Stull and has evolved to a multi-generational event. While the female species is allowed to cook and shop for this evening, they are not included in the festivities, thank goodness! :)
Thursday was full of wonderful family and tremendous food. Loy's parents, Loy's brother and family, Alexis and Corey and Enoch, Grant and Angela and Payton, Paul, and Luke. Logan and Jenna were on the rotation to go to her side of the family this year, so we muddled through without them. Highlights? Seeing Dolores walking back and forth in front of her new holographic picture to see it change. Naming all the Duggar kids. Watching some of the kids playing basketball out in the backyard.
We came home on Friday evening (after watching the Husker game). Bo Pelini can thank Dolores for the win. When things looked a little grim she got out her musical Husker hat and began playing that for inspiration. I'm sure the team felt the good vibe and picked it up after that. Then we had to drop Luke off, our visit being over.
Paul was here, in and out, for this past week. He had some trouble connecting with any friends but did manage a few meals out with buds. Next semester he is transferring to University of Sioux Falls where he will work towards his MBA. He found an apartment and will begin to look for a job once he gets up there in a few weeks.
Now, the crashing part. Saturday night it just hit me like a pile of bricks. I felt about 100-years-old, like life has just passed me by. The best is over. My kids are no longer in my home. My hair is graying and my jowls are falling. I wear bifocals and can't always see things clearly. While I love my job, it does keep me from the motivation to do things like decorate for Christmas. My dogs poop on the floor. My little boy doesn't live here anymore and I can remember little things like singing in church with him. The life I always dreamed of happened some time in my 30's. Isn't this depressing???
How did this happen? I don't think I like the highlights of my life being those few times when we can all get together. (Although I have a great trip planned for all of us in June!) I need to work on finding what this stage of life looks like and EMBRACING it. Not focusing on mourning how it used to be. I grumped then, too.
Usually I think I am a pretty upbeat person. My life went on when first my mom and then my dad died when I was in my 20's. I didn't mourn when the kids went off to college. I kept my sense of humor through cancer. I'm pretty sure this funk will pass tomorrow morning. But, for today, I feel sad.
Crash.
I'll go pet the naughty dogs. And give Loy a hug. Maybe take a long bath and read a book.
God will carry me in His arms. (Ps. 68:19b) and I'll snuggle up to Him and just rest.
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