Sunday, July 27, 2014

Five Minute Friday: Finish

To finish one must start. The starting can be quite the challenge. But the biggest mountain to ascend is the middle;'so that one can finish. Truly i only have a few short minutes. Sitting in the overcast early morning light of one of my most favorite spots on planet earth, I rush to peck words before the crew rises. My starting dreams soar high, proven by the sewing machine I researched, excitedly bought; my husband snarked that I would never use. I did. For a few weeks. Presently, I have no idea where it has run off and hid. How does one LOSE  a sewing machine? I am sure after weeks, months, maybe more of sitting in the corner of a hallway, my dear friend house-helper got to sick of sweeping around it and found it a home, in the storage room... How many of my hopes and dreams get stashed away in storage? Left alone, waiting for my restless soul yo stir and return?  
How grateful I am for today. It has a beginning and a n end. God created it that way especially for us happy starters but challenged finishers. Worry not about tomorrow for today has enough mini starts and finishes of its own. Breakfast. Loading the dishwasher. Playing. Spanking. Loving. Kids. Dinner. Prayers. Loving on a friend. Kissing boo boos. Feeding the chickens. Enjoying my incredible view from my front porch. Snuggling.  A glass of good wine. All fill the day with joys, a  sorrows. Enough to say I fished today.  And tomorrow I will start anew. One day. One dawn.  One sunset. One day complete. Finished. Praise God. 

Friday, April 25, 2014

Friend for Five Minute Friday

Funny, I was driving home from driving kids to school, after my bi-weekly encounter with exercise, with a trainer, who pushes me, hard; driving home on my way to an over full to do list day, of one entire morning long chore that would leave me pretty well spent. Driving home I was feeling overwhelmed and a bit ragged, ragged on the inside; heart inside, my outsides were still pumped from the physical heart rate rising, weight lifting, cardio challenging, one thing I do purely for me torture. 
On this drive my silly mind wandered to the trials and burdens of my life and I nurtured my downcast spirit. But from the depths God reminded me of my friends. My true life friends, a few women I could call anytime, with ugly confessions, happy mother joys, gut wrenching brokenness, and in these women I would find solace, comfort, encouragement, laughter, a shoulder, open arms, kindred hearts. 
God has brought many amazing ladies into my life. Some I see almost daily. Some not for several years. All of whom I love deeply. Yet God has placed different women friends in different places in my life. Each cemented to a piece of my soul. In my life there are no casual friendships. Kindred souls for different spaces. 
Still the few women of whom just the thought of encouraged my ragged insides are God made sisters, and I am beyond words grateful that they are a gift given. 
Friends, God's hands. His voice. His unconditional love. In human form.  

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Mamie-mama. ( found this in the draft box from February.)

And so with only a few minor adjustments, I can post something through a few tears, without reaching to far. 
I am so blessed by Five Minute Friday. By all my young mama friends on Facebook, without whom I would not make it through a day. I read the stories of spilled Cheerios, soggy sheets, elementary school projects, packing lunches, forgotten permission slips, and a thousand and one other minuscule and monumental tasks to be completed by young moms with young children. I'm encouraged that I am not alone in my constant battle to keep my head above water in the never ending flood of lost socks, broken toys, vomit filled lunch boxes (ok that only happened once) glad of that, the daily battle to get to school on time, clean and on a good day with teeth brushed and hair combed.  Difference being, I have young children. And I have grown children. I have  one teenager still at home, and nine grandchildren, if you count the two that live with me as my sixth and seventh sons. And I am fifty five, not young by motherhood standards. Afflicted by a chronic form of MS, symptoms of extreme debilitating fatigue, heat sensitivity, and rendered brain scrambled by stress; I am domestically and clerically challenged, further complicating my success at parenting and marriage. 
     Because oh yea, I also have a husband of almost thirty years who by is own admission is not a "kid person" he loves his children, did the little league thing all the way through rec ball with his post high school sons. Wrestling matches, football games, camping, fishing in Canada. Runs his own business, coal brokering and handling. Because of economy and the War on Coal, layoffs have put him back in a loader ten to twelve hours a day. He is worn out and rundown. A man of faith he knows in his head but struggles to live in his heart. He worries. About finances. And our son also with MS not so chronic, potentially more progressive, already affected with moderate loss of sight. Same son who labors by his side every day, struggling to keep the family business running. Stress abounds at the Shelocta tipple. Not healthy. For sons with MS or husbands with high blood pressure, arthritis, and property taxes that just increased 500%. Four more sons, one on parole, and now back in jail, the reason why we have two young ones. One game commissioner, Wildlife Conservation Officer, whose every call most likely involves a weapon in someone else's possession.  A rebellious teen. And a lost soul we adopted to late in his young life to undo the heart damage he had suffered.   
As a wife and mother to so diverse and complicated crew, i cannot endure one moment not graced my by my Jesus. 
I need my young friends, I need my sister peers. With grown children. With "issues". And Jesus. 

So, I guess that is it. Same now as then. Jesus come closer, cause I need you now. 

Friday, January 31, 2014

Five Minute Friday on Friday yet....go figure

Prompt: Hero
A hero, bigger than life, accomplishing the impossible, despite heart pounding fear demonstrates amazing acts of courage, conquering ogres great and small, but most of all rises up each morning grateful for the day prior and today's Sun rising. No matter the confusion, heartache, physical pain, lack of funds, angry words hurled thoughtlessly their way; places one foot, then another...rising walks confidently into the freshly from the mouth of God adventure called today.

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Wednesday's version of Five Minute Friday

Prompt word: visit

Its kinda funny; I peeked at the prompt over the weekend. By peeked I mean I sat and prepared to write and some child/husband/household disaster exploded, of which I do not remember the details, either way, no writing happened. My mind went back to summer cousin time, when parents "visited", enjoyed a beer or two, sitting around kitchen tables or scattered across a covered porch. Cousins scattered across the basement and grand backyards for adventures, and escapades still unknown by the parents.
Through the course of my day I realized recalling and writing that story might fill a small paperback not a five minute mini prompt. I never left the house that Saturday, but I believe I visited every incher and corner of every room. My haphazard random mind leads from one project to another, never completing an entire task, and in general creating more disorder than tidy rooms or paid bills. I visited the laundry room and threw in load of clothes. I spent some quality time in my bedroom try to go through the pile of miscellaneous boxes and bags leftover stocking stuffers from Christmas and gifts received. I did succeed in boxing up the stocking stuffers, and collected keepsake type gifts into one container (to be placed around my home in "just the right place") oh yea, cause that will happen. I visited my bed for a short nap. I revisited my refrigerator, the week before I had cleaned and organized it; wiping and scrubbing unknown goo from drawers and shelves, all the while the garbage disposal was in overdrive. But this Saturday after peering in to look for ketchup I realized last weeks efforts were all for naught, and I had no ambition to repeat that process. Quickly, closing the door I ordered pizza for lunch.
I visited the living room with the vacuum several times. A Christmas present bean bag did not hold up to the antics of the five and six year old. Volumes upon volumes of round static laced Styrofoam danced from room to room, continually reappearing.
Boys needed played with. Spanked. Put in time out. Screamed at more than once I am sure.
The day spent visiting, was not all vanity and unproductive. Sometime after bedtime, with dishwasher running and glass of wine in hand I sat in MY CHAIR and pondered the goodness of my life and the kindness of my God.
Toys were strewn about and unfolded laundry sat in a basket on the dining room floor. Kitchen garbage and recycling rose above their chosen cans.
And still, the day was not a waste and I was not undone. I know that each day is a gift given for life and loving... boys fell asleep singing, husband was snoring. And me, I was grateful for Grace and Mercy, and a God who gives talent to the owner of the vineyard.

Saturday, January 18, 2014

my boys

Seems to be quite a few "drafts" on my dashboard. Not much writing, just titles, a few random thoughts. A picture or two. The boys above are not quite half of what the title might lend itself to picture. Literally. Four more; grown men sons represent my repertoire. The complete set equals seven. Two past thirty, not much. Two in their twenties, a little deeper into twenty something every day. And the three seen above. Still at home. In my nest. Under my roof. If only each moment possessed the sweet tender love, adoration, and quiet complacency causing my mother's heart to smile.
Late at night. After a shower laced with much joint medicine smelling body wash. A roll on of essential oils, more for the aching joints. I smell like the modern day version of a bottle of Absorbine Jr.
My neck and thumb joints tingle from the, whatever it is. I am not well versed. Just use what helps. Trust my experts. Still the throbbing continues, slightly muted. What will I do if my hands quit working? How will I peck out my thoughts, dreams, and disappointments. My faith that a Loving God keeps my hands in His. It is a real faith. But not all the answers to our prayers our yes. Sometimes, "No." Is the better answer, even if we do not know or understand the why.
Standing up to pour a little more wine, because it seems like a good idea; my legs and back remind me of the manure I shoveled, and the vacuum I pushed around. Twice. The stiffening lessens as I go in search of the wining cat.
My bed and heating pad are calling my name.
Life is hard. God is Good.
Life is hard. God is Good.
Every day. All the time.
Life is hard. God is good.