Mixing Metaphors, Babies Running Marathons

Don't you love watching babies and toddlers?  They love to learn.  They soak up everything!  They watch and study and listen and are fascinated and mesmerized by anything new and everything around them.  And they're always smiling.  They are full of joy.

I feel a little bit like that right now.  Being grown-up (I guess I am, technically) comes with a self-awareness that makes it harder sometimes to maintain that sense of delight that someone in the infant or toddler stage possesses so naturally...but I'm trying.

I'm trying hard.  I'm fighting for it!  I'm fighting for joy!

It sounds a little like a contradictory statement, or paradoxical.  But I don't think it is, in the end.  It's like running a race.  You set a goal.  You train.  You push yourself.  And all the while, you are getting closer to your destination, your end.  And when you run, it hurts, and then it feels good.  You are happy.  And you know you are going to make it.  But in order to make it, in order to achieve that goal you set, you have to work, you have to fight your body and even your mind so that you might become stronger.  Maybe even faster.

I'm gonna get that runner's high.  And I'm gonna cross that finish line.

It Is Well

We have a blessed life.

Mike and I have been married for thirteen years.  We've had ups and downs.  We probably started with the downs, actually.  We didn't have a chance to get to know one another in the eight months right before we got married because of distance.  I was in Spain, he was in the United States.  Weekend rendevous' were a little expensive for us.  Then after I returned, I was in Virginia and he was in Florida.  And we had moved the wedding date up (from after the school year to before school started - we were still in college).  It was a crazy time.  While we knew one another for quite a while before we got engaged, we were in the la-la phase...over the moon for one another.

Anyway, we've gone through a lot, and like anyone's life it hasn't all been easy.  And I am often more of a malcontent than a grateful, joyful person.  But, we've also had three healthy, wonderful children.  We've always had a place to go, whether it was our home or the homes of our parents.  Ever since we left Princeton, Mike has had a job.  We have extremely generous family members.  Mike and I have been blessed by congregation after congregation, people who have loved on us and bestowed upon us both material as well as intangible provisions. 

When I was pregnant with Michaela, Mike was working at a small church in Pennsylvania as a Student Pastor and the folks that made up that body cared for us in so many ways.  Someone often had us to lunch after the services.  We were also given a baby shower and, well, showered with so much that before Eliana was born her dresser was full.  Not to mention the department store's worth of stuff we got from a shower they gave us at the church I grew up in in Virginia. 

These kinds of blessings continue to rain down on us, and it is a mystery to me sometimes, since it doesn't seem like we deserve such things.  Since we've lived in Dallas people have brought us random meals, not to mention the six weeks' worth of meals after Eliana was born.  We have been loved on by those around us in so many ways.  You guys, there are women here who were willing to come and clean my house for me, when I just couldn't do it. 

Just recently we were surprised by another gift.  Our kids' piano teacher got in touch with us because one of the choir members had a piano that had been in storage for many years; he wanted to find a good home for it.  She thought of us, since we have an electronic keyboard, but no actual piano.  This gentleman wanted to give the piano to a family that would use it, and we ended up as the recipients of this wonderful donation. 

He had it delivered last week, and was here to make sure that it was in good condition, since it had been in storage for so long.  He was very kind and seemed grateful and glad that the piano was in a home where it would be played and well-loved.  We also arranged for someone to come and tune the piano, which happened this morning.  I came home from a walk and the tuner was here.  I steered Eliana clear of the living room and let him do what he needed to do.

Have you ever been around while someone is tuning a piano?  Here is my recommendation for you if you find yourself in this situation:  GET OUT OF THE HOUSE.

There is a great deal of, let's see...PING PING PING PING PING PING PING, PANG PANG PANG PANG PANG PANG PANG, BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG, BING BING BING BING BING BING BING, BOM BOM BOM BOM BOM BOM BOM

I think you might get the picture.  At one point I did want to cry, and just about then he started to play a song.  And it was lovely.

I went to see that everything was all right, and he told me that he had found some faulty wiring (Please don't ask me to explain in great detail...I'm still a little confused.  It had to do with a built-in dehumidifier.  At any rate, he found these bad wires and switched out the bar that they were coming out of, and now we should not have a house fire.  At least because of our piano.), but that now everything was fine and it was ready to go.  He said,"Get on there, bang it up, play it!"  He went over a couple more things and then he handed me a piece of paper; he said,"By the way, this was in your piano.  I don't know if you want it or not, but it's yours."  I took the paper from him and as I read what was on it, tears sprung to my eyes. 

A gift within our gift.  And a perfect reminder of Whose I am, as well as an encouragement for my soul.  I don't always act like "It is well with my soul".  This hymn says everything about truly resting in the Lord, trusting Him and having that peace that does indeed pass all understanding.  A man who lost pretty much everything still calls out to God,"Thou hast taught me to say,'It is well, it is well, with my soul!'"

It seems like everywhere I turn lately, from the pool to the baseball field to my living room, there are pictures that are being painted vividly as though the world around me were a huge canvas, and God the artist creating bold and beautiful images that illustrate in ways that are so very near, His love for me and His grace.  How I long to grow into a woman who can one day cry out deeply joyfully,"It is well, it is well, with my soul!"

That Face

It's about 50/50 whether or not I get a picture of Christian smiling.  Or even looking at the camera.  He doesn't always appreciate my desire to capture a given moment.  Then there are times when I take his picture and he's not looking or expecting it.  I love those candid photos because they are genuine.

This week at I Heart Faces they are asking for smirks.  They define a smirk as "a smile evoking insolence, scorn, or offensive smugness".  This can be tricky...it's hard to get a picture of.  If someone is smirking, then he probably doesn't want his picture taken.  But sometimes you can catch a look, accidentally, that spotlights an area of someone's personality that doesn't often get highlighted in a picture.

Christian is a tenderhearted and sensitive guy...but he's also tough.  And just a wee bit intense.  And it shows.

I like his face when he's smiling, and when he's serious.  I can see him, the grown-up him, here.  Would you believe we were at a playground?  He was actually in the middle of having a lot of fun.

There are some great takes on the smirk over at I Heart Faces.  Check some of them out!

As Good as Drugs

My mom asked me recently why I hadn't been posting very much.  I told her,"I don't have anything to say."

This is mostly true.  I want to write things that people can relate to, that incite riotous laughter (okay, maybe that's a bit ambitious, but...it would be great!), that record the moments of our lives that I want to remember and that I want our kids to remember.

I've had some bad days.  I don't care to revisit them.

But!  I have started exercising, and I am going to a counselor.  I am walking with Mike (and sometimes I run jog bounce!) as well as with a couple of women I know from church.  It's still 90 degrees here and so even when I don't work very hard I get super sweaty and I looked like I worked very hard.  Sweating burns calories, right?

I am having some problems with the formatting here.  Did anyone notice?  I'm leaving it.  It is making me laugh.  This is a good thing, as at any given time it could be making me want to throw the computer through the window behind me.   Sometimes when I get angry I want to hear a big crash.  That I made.

Or eat a brownie that I made.

But!  That would defeat the purpose of all of the exercising that I am doing. 

I will say, that even if the exercise has not made my body shape change (AT ALL! WHY  NOT? I DO NOT LIKE THAT PART!) it does get me out of the house so that I am not staring at all of the Flat Surfaces that are covered with odds and ends (a.k.a. crap). 

I like looking at the blue, blue Texas sky, and the yards in our neighborhood right now are gorgeous.

The dog poop that people leave around, I could do without...but that's another post for another time. 

Also, there has been a gnat population explosion here.  I walk tilted to the right (or the left, depending which way I'm going) up our sidewalk to avoid the very long, very large swarm of gnats that hovers and zips around, but ONLY ON THE ONE SIDE of the sidewalk.  Weird.  My guess is that the guys who are working on the yards around our house are thinking,"It's a little early to be drinking..." as I scoot down our walkway all tippy like that. 

Now, Mom, aren't you so glad that I wrote something tonight?

Finally

A roach flew at me tonight, straight toward my head. 

I screamed.

Mike saved me!

That is all.