Aint' no reason

Mother's Day is coming, my least favorite day of the year.

My heart is struggling with some unsettled issues.

The sun is shining but I feel tied to tasks inside my house.

It is once again time for my husband to search for a job, and that means our business venture has failed.

But I am buoyed by the wonderful music filling my house as I work my list.

I miss my mom terribly this time of year, and I more acutely feel the loss of not being a mother, but I know God holds the plan of my life in His hands, and I can rest peacefully in that absolute knowledge.

My internal issues are salved by the love of friends and family. They give wise counsel and listen to my grumbling.

And the job will come. Time and trust will show us which path we need to take and how to walk it.

The music fills my house and my heart. Simple love songs, catchy dance tunes, ballads sung with passion.

The sun shines, and I am so thankful for the freedom I have to step away from my to-do list and go for a walk, for the freedom I have to talk and laugh with friends. I live a life of freedom, filled with love and joy. Struggles aren't absent, but I have the tools to handle them, and I am thankful.

Love has indeed set me free.

http://www.ilike.com/artist/Brett+Dennen/track/Ain't+No+Reason

Two thoughts

A week old post...

One: Last weekend Tim and I attended a 50th wedding anniversary. What a wondrous event! The room was full of people, all there to celebrate this amazing milestone. In today's world, 50th anniversaries are becoming more and more rare. For both a marriage to last that long, and for both parties to live to enjoy it are amazing and should be celebrated with a big party, lots of friends, and a fancy cake!

Of course, this made me think about my own marriage - comfortable (like the very best slippers), my best friend in the world, adds much more joy than frustration to my life. I could come up with a whole list of superlatives that describe my marriage (Beth, are you snickering?), but I won't bother. I'll just say that I adore my husband and I cherish every year we've had together. For those of you who care to know, we'll have been a couple 24 years in May, and married 19 years in June. (Read those last couple lines with almost a snooty, bragging tone of voice! I'm proud of our accomplishment - in a good way, I hope.)

Two: It has been a rainy, gray kind of day. I've had to go out in the rain twice now, so even though I'm dying for a date (dinner and a movie?), all I really want to do is snuggle down in the blankets and hang out at home with Tim. I think it says something about our marriage that doing just that is probably my favorite thing in the whole world to do. I do love a good hike, a long road trip in the Midwest, a hilarious movie date with my brother, cooking for friends, and a whole long list of other things. But in the middle of what activity do I have to just stop for a minute and say, "I love doing this!"

Hanging out at home with Tim!

Two lovely thoughts for a Saturday. They make me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Midwest

Spiders of progress grace the land, spreading their wealth of water.

They stand in the fields,

sentinels watching over our crops while we sleep.

They are an extension of our feeble hands.

But do we see in them only man's hand and the benefits of science,

or do we see the hand of God,

giving us knowledge,

and blessing us with grain?

"Praise God from whom all blessings flow..."

the tune of the Doxology fills my head as the miles speed by.

My eye is filled with fields,

grain elevators,

feed lots,

row after row of turned soil,

the now-dry furrows a promise of the green crop to come.

And I'm entranced by the cycle of life,

the hum of my tires,

the neon of fast food signs,

and the simple joy of my journey across

the world's bread basket.

Morning has broken

Morning has broken, like the first morning

Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird

Praise for the singing, praise for the morning,

Praise for the springing fresh from the Word

Do you know that old hymn? Sure wish I knew how to put music on this blog. I keep having songs I want to share with you! Maybe I'll set myself that task...

It is a beautiful morning! The sun is shining in all her glory, the temperature is just above freezing, there's not a cloud in the light blue sky, and I get to spend the day with a friend. What a privileged life I lead - to have so many friends. I cannot count my blessings, and I cannot count the times my friends have added joy to my life.

I have so much to be thankful for, and the richness of my relationships is one of those things.

And let me just add that the burden of my house and tasks that I felt Sunday upon returning home is diminished greatly. I am reminded of my choice earlier this spring to accept myself as I am (a not-so-great housekeeper) and just do the best I can, but to lift off myself the burden of guilt and expectations. A gift of grace I can give myself. I'm thankful for that, too, and my lovely friends who always help me see myself through their eyes - with grace and love!

Common beauty

I love driving across America. Alone. For days. I love it! Everything I see stimulates my eyes, every farm is new, every plowed field is beautiful.

I know several people who think I'm crazy.

This last trip was no exception. One day I drove from Missouri to Iowa. The day started out sunny and beautiful, but as I drove north I was in and out of rainstorms. I love this drive in particular - straight up highway 63. It is hilly, in and out of small towns, through a small patch of Amish homesteads, right through amazing farm country.

Beautiful!

Spring has arrived. In the midwest the earth is a tapestry of color - new shoots of corn and beans blaze across fields showing off just how green they can be.

wide open farms

watch storm clouds pass

drinking up each drop

Storm swept plain welcomes spring,

green shoots rising up with open palms.

The birds sense rain

and fly home

nestling in their beds

The world spins.

Seasons change.

Road trip

I'm home. Home sweet home. And almost immediately the zen of driving across America's heartland is interrupted by the muddy undertow of life - weeding that already needs to be done and seems overwhelming, laundry, taxes, and a rather long list of to-dos that I could have tattooed on my arm they so seldom change from month to month.

So how can I hold on to a part of the serenity of my trip? Granted, a long trip like the one I just took is partially designed for the experience of getting away from the requirements of everyday life. But surely I can hold on to a part of it. Surely I can preserve a touch of the peace.

I had a wonderful time! I can't even adequately express how gratifying and special my time with each of my friends was. It wasn't quite long enough - never is! But I'm also very glad to be home, glad to be back with Tim and Egg, and even though I'm fighting against that current of need-to-be-dones and to-dos, I'm glad to be here.

Conflict

One friend's child is only 3 - a feather in my arms - her skin the dark brown of her birth mother's homeland. Her easy smile enchanting. Her small voice full of acceptance and love.

Another is now a man. He towers over me and a hug from him is no longer that of a child. He speaks in deep tones, and his walk and manner remind me more and more of his father.

Time has passed, years have gone by, and still I am without a child of my own. And now that I'm 40, and have been married for almost 20 years, do I really want the disorder, frustration, and drastic change that having a child would bring, to my life personally, and the life of my marriage? Or will the hope and promise of love, the fulfillment of the dream of children outweight my fears and worries?

Ah, the conflict that continues to rage within me. I pray, I give my questions to God, I share my thoughts and concerns with friends, counselors, my family. No one has the answer. That I'll have to discern for myself. Husband and I will have to somehow come to an answer together.

But tonight I go to bed, my brain seemingly imprinted with the feeling of a child in my arms.