You

Do you define yourself by the work you do?  You are more.

You know that feeling when you get all dressed up and have some where special to

go? That is the feeling you should experience more often.

›

The more you rush about the less time you have to listen . What if God is trying to

 give you directions for a happier life and you are to busy to hear?

›

                        Sticking with the familiar is sometimes the hardest thing to do;

                         it’s all that tugging at your heart of things you want to do but

                          keep putting off until tomorrow. 

To Learn

There is so much more that I need to learn.

   

I’ve taken all these wrong paths in my zeal to discover

what I wanted for my life.

I may not know what I want to do, but the good thing

I know is what I don’t want to do.

 

 

The choice is easy;        

                                        it’s living with the decision 

                                                    that’s hard.  

                                                                 Every time we leave things unresolved,

                                                                 we leave a piece of us lying around.

Friends

If relationships are hard, they are also so very rewarding. Do you have friends that build you up and make you laugh just being around them? I have a couple of friends like that. It’s a party ever time Lucy walks in the room. She laughs and has such a jubilant attitude that folks want to be around her. Her laughter masks a troubled soul.

Surround yourself with friends.                                                                                    

 Paul says we need 3 close friends in our lives 

Titus 3:                                                                 

one person to learn from,                                                                                                         

a close friend to share things with,                                                                                         

and a young person to instruct.        

Yoga Rant by Jeanna

Okay, let me preface my rant with the statement that I am an old mom.  I had my first (yes, first) child at age 36 and my third child at age 40.  I am 42 now, they are 5, 4, and 1. 

Most of the time, I feel like I am 80 (see previous paragraph for why).

That being said, I try very hard not to let my children lose out because mommy and daddy are old fogeys.  I take my kids for walks, take them to the park, let them “practice” the piano, and get into tickle fights and giggle storms with them.  And because my life just wasn’t stressful enough, I have taken on the task of homeschooling my oldest little darling—an exercise not for the faint of heart.  Since I have a couple of collegiate degrees under my belt, I felt I should be able to handle the kindergarten curriculum without too much trouble and that I might even be able to teach it.  

Even so, sometimes, I just can’t help being old.  Or at least feeling it.

Take today for example, I took my daughter to the library to let her check out some books and to play in the wonderfully stocked kids area.  (In case you were wondering about my other two hoodlums, they were in preschool at our church.)  It was a nice break from the home classroom, and reminded me that there is, indeed, life beyond math facts and phonic rules. 

Things were going well until we were checking out.  Across the foyer from the circulation desk at our library is a large open multi-purpose room.  Today, the purpose was to host the “Mommy and Me Yoga” class.  I had seen the signs for this class before but never gave it more than a passing thought.  It said Mommy-and-Me Yoga, not Mommy-and-Me-and-Me-and-Me.  I just couldn’t comprehend how I could make it work with three preschoolers.  Yoga, as I have practiced and understand it, is supposed to be about being calm and peaceful, focusing on your essentials of being like breathing and muscle control.  There is nothing calm about my three kids, and there is no peace for me when they are all awake in the same room.

But still, as we were waiting patiently in line, we couldn’t help but notice all the activity across the way from the gaggle of tots and moms laughing and packing up to go home.  My daughter asked what all of the kids were doing in the other room.  I pretended not to know.  I didn’t want her asking why her mommy didn’t take her to such an exciting activity.  But I couldn’t avoid the conversation altogether.  The moms were rolling up yoga mats, zipping up stylish hoodies, and slipping on colorful sneakers, all the while smiling and chatting with each other and their children.  They seemed like a happy lot. 

I am not normally one to play the competition game with any other mom.  I firmly believe we all have different cards to play, and each and every one of us has been given a different set of struggles to work through.  I don’t envy anyone else’s life or think I have it that much better (or worse) than the next mom.  But, I realized something as I sat in my minivan (yeah, minivan.  I used to be cool…stress the “used to” part), those moms in their yoga pants, ponytails and big smiles were almost young enough to be my kids.  And that’s when it hit me:  I am just too old to be at peace with community yoga.  In another life or in a different decade of life, maybe.  But right now, I don’t think I could find the mental peace to even pretend I would enjoy it.  I am just not there anymore.  And, after shaking my head at myself for the comparisons (the negative ones aimed at me), I decided I am okay with this.  I’ve been dealt a different hand to play, and I need to stop trying to peek at someone else’s.

So I did what any 40-something homeschooling mom of a kindergartener would do, I looked at my daughter and asked, “Hey, do you wanna go to Panera Bread to finish your lessons and get some lunch?”

Without blinking her eye, she said “Oh, yes, mommy!”  Mommy’s age crisis over…at least for the morning.

Wash Day

Wash Day

    Yes, I know that Monday is wash day.  However, I am sure you will

understand that my days have been all mixed up.

For me, the washing machine was the greatest invention of the 20th Century. 

We have come a long way from beating clothes on a rock.

No more scrubbing on a rub board, a chore that I do not miss.

    (Yes, I remember rub boards.  My ex bought me one to scrub Will’s diapers.)

No more hauling laundry to the laundry mat.  If you have never done that, then thank

your lucky stars for you have missed one of the great drudgeries of life.

Today, I decided to strip the bed and do the sheets.

As I was throwing laundry into the indispensable dryer,

I noticed that the T-shirts were black.

Now white T-shirts seldom get greasy just watching Vanna on T V.

Next, I noticed my underwear was black.

OH, NO!!!!!!!!!!!!! My washing machine was going out.

If you have never had a man help you fix an appliance, be grateful.

It’s, “Honey, where is my screwdriver.” or “Do you know where I put the wrench?”

If all else fails, read the instruction book.

Only ours was a second washer and had no book.

So, if you are a man, you call your brother, Herb.

Now two heads are better than one!!!

Well the instruction book told how to set up a washer, not repair one.

Upon close examination, I found the screw that allowed you to remove the agitator.

Lucky me.  Now all I need is to find Bud or Herb

something to take the screw off with.

Mission accomplished.  There is grease all over the inside of the agitator

and shaft.  Not much gets grease off.

Why not have lunch while we wait!#$*#@

After lunch, ‘we’ clean up the mess and get the machine back

together.  Hopefully, it will work now.

If not, you got it, we call Herb to come again.

Need to borrow his truck and get him to help us load the machine.

Will keep you updated.

This took the better part of the day.

Had to have a coffee break,  Union demands, you know.

So with a sink full of dirty dishes and a couple loads of

laundry to do, I had better get busy.

May God bless you on this beautiful day.