Owl Creek Cottage

Moving Back Home

I decided to move back to my original blog, "In the Midst of It."  I'll be deleting this blog in a week or so, but I moved all the posts from here back to there, so it looks like there are 150 posts written there today.  Yikes!  I just wanted to have all of our family's little record in one place, and Blogger is free, so it won the competition.

See you there! I hope :)

Enjoying Today

I am a worrier.  I know it's not God's best for me to worry, and that it's futile because it's nearly always about things I can't control, but I'm still a chronic worrier.  I worry about propane leaks, plumbing leaks, water leaks (Yes, we've had all of those this fall!).  I worry about mortgage issues, siding that needs to be replaced but costs as much as putting in a pool, college savings.  Does Grayson need glasses, and will he ever stop walking on his toes?  Hives that won't go away, teeth that are going to need serious orthodontic work.  If it can be worried about, I cover it!

I've also realized, in my long career as a worrier, that as soon as the issues I'm stressed about are resolved--generally positively--that another group crops up in their place.  When the hot water heater is replaced (twice) one week, and the kids' window seats are rebuilt, the next week water stains appear in the ceiling--underneath the 3 year old roof.   The goat doesn't appear to have pneumonia after all (after I forced myself to stick her with a needleful of antiobiotics, of course), but the dog does seem to have stomach cancer.  Except, $500 later, he doesn't.  He just has diarrhea, all over the expensive rugs.

There is always something to worry about, and I can be consumed with the gnawing worry that eats at my joy and peace.  

Except when I refuse to indulge.  There is always something to be worried over, unless I push that little niggling tidbit out of my head, decide to think about it another day, and go outside instead.  Play badminton with kids who are young enough to think I'm really good at it.  Bake brownies for the childcare workers at church, and lick the batter.  Take a walk and crunch all the fall leaves under our feet on the bridle path.  Do another math lesson and cheer on my non-mathematical child who works so hard to get it, and he does!  Fold clean laundry and smell freshly-washed towels.  Sip a chai tea latte and not worry about the calories.  Turn the music on really loud and sing to the dog.

I am seeing the futility of worrying, and that it's an ugly friend who never satisifes.  God says in Psalm 37 that instead of worrying, I'm supposed to "feed on His faithfulness."  He steps in and gives me His faithful goodness, His grace, His peace, His joy when life circumstances are worrisome.  Even when the curveball I'm thrown is heavier and weightier than a dying hot water heater or water stain, when it's a scary diagnosis or crushing disappointment.  He is better than life, and that means He's better than anything in my life.

Today, instead of worrying about water stains and propane smells (The propane detector says everything's fine.) and infections and crumbling siding, I'm going to make nachos and decorated cookies for tonight's game (Go Rangers!!).  I'm going to take Grayson to his physical therapy appointment and not worry about if it doesn't work and he walks on his tiptoes forever.  I'm going to get ready for co op tomorrow, love on the three little friends who are always with me, fold more clean laundry, and probably sing to the dog.  I'm going to be thankful for what God has given me, not worry about what He hasn't, and enjoy today.  

Besides, I can't focus on worries and eat up this mix-matched, braided-bun delicious little girl:

Tomorrow can worry about itself.

"Therefore do not worry about tomorrow . . ."

Savoring the Days

Propped up in bed, snuggled by two warm little boy bodies.  Grayson is sick today, so we are home from church and haven't moved very far from where we woke up!  I am surrounded by my Bible, journal, and all the stuff I seem to accumulate for my quiet time.  Coffee, always.  I have a lot to do (also, always) but am pondering instead.

Laundry, gardening, dishes, bills, more laundry, errands, tidying, and still more laundry:  all those have to be done, but in the rush to do, I can easily miss the more important things: reading to the kids (Narnia right now), squirrel watching with the cat (who thinks he's an albino squirrel, I'm convinced!), scooter racing down the drive, having picnics on the deck, playing baby dolls with Addie on the porch, baking together, staying up late to watch the stars with my husband, sitting and not multi-tasking while on the phone with my loved ones, reading a good book slowly.

I am finishing up a project in Addie's bedroom--projects are so rewarding and often so necessary, but always seem to suck up all the free time and money!--and once it's done, I'm committing to being project-free for awhile, just to slow down and savor all the things that are truly important.  I have to fight my nature not to embrace another project, but remembering that these little ones aren't so little and won't stay little very long, helps me keep it in perspective.  

I want to savor the days and not look back on them when we're all old and think, "Well, I may not have spent enough time with the kids, but our house sure did look nice."  It's a hard pull for me, because I love the excitement of planning a project and all the creativity that goes into it, but I always get bogged down halfway through and wish I could just be finished already!  But wisdom comes with time, and I'm realizing that House Beautiful (or Garden Beautiful or Sewing Projects Galore, whatever) can't compare to a life spent well with the four greatest gifts God has given me, my husband and children.  

Pressing on today. 

Tonight

I am thankful tonight, sitting here in the dark and mulling over the day, for these:

my children's faces, warm and sleepy, bundled under the covers

the reassuring nudge from an old and faithful dog

down comforters above and chilly sheets beneath

flickering candlelight

a book finished, and another one waiting

the long-familiar and much-treasured face of my husband

dark, cold, deep nights

a Love more faithful than the morning

 

And you?  What are you especially thankful for right now?

The Agenda

I try to write down my day's agenda early in the morning, before anything could've possibly happened to alter The Plan.  I love a good plan, and it throws me off to have it wrecked before 10 a.m.  So today's 8 a.m. migraine was especially resented.  

Instead of catching up on the laundry, mopping the kitchen floor, and doing lessons, I informed everybody it was a Whispering Day and then walked around with my eyes deeply squinted, feeling irritated and crabby that my plans were grounded.  

By afternoon I was still not feeling like myself, so after half-heartedly starting one load of laundry, I rummaged in the fridge for something to make a decent meal and returned a phone call.  That was the entire sum of my efforts today.

Not all days work out according to The Plan, but perhaps that's what makes each morning's new mercies even better.  Here's to tomorrow!