I love my house. I really do. It has character. We have owned three houses in our married life and each of them have had a charm about them. None of them have been particularly old, but old enough to have…well, issues. I guess with charm there are always drawbacks.

Apparently, life is not the only thing that goes through seasons…

Around here, the appliances also partake of the seasons.

It goes in waves. One year it was the dishwasher. It would work, get fixed, work for a while, stop working, get fixed again, until we finally got a new one. Then that one shorted out and got fixed, shorted out again, got fixed again…and several more times of that. Yes. Anytime we have lightning, I’m holding my breath that the dishwasher is going to short out again.

Another year it was the washing machine. Oh, I thought I’d lose my mind when the washer wasn’t working. Months and months, it was on the fritz. One day that is forever imprinted on my brain is the day I decided to go to the laundromat with ten loads and two kids. It was a sweltering day. We were there for quite a while. I bought tons of tokens, so the kids could play the games there, while I did the laundry.

I couldn’t figure out why Indigo was being so difficult, until we went home and he had 102º temp. All I know is that I yelled and cried and disciplined all the way home for the awful behavior in the laundromat. (Who really CARES how a child behaves in the LAUNDROMAT, for crying out loud! OK, me. And the bachelor trying to read a book!) I felt so terrible when I realized how sick he was.

The Sears guy came and looked at the washer and in the process of pulling it out, got grease all over our cream carpet. About a foot and a half of greasiness that never came out. He ordered a part and the same problem happened again. And again. And again. Finally it died~ mind you, it was only a couple years old. Eventually, I got another new washer. I kissed that beautiful thing when it arrived, all shiny and new…and working!

I have deep appreciation for those women who have to go to the laundromat on a regular basis. Goddesses they are, the whole lot.

We’ve had wells at the last two houses. And with wells, there are a whole slew of issues with the sump pump, etc. A couple of years ago, on Thanksgiving Day, we were about to have a big feast down at Nate’s mom’s apartment. She lives in our lower level and has her own kitchen. It’s a nice place. Well, around noon, about a half hour before everyone was supposed to arrive, the sump pump started backing up…in her kitchen. NOT good. We moved the event upstairs, but no one could use the bathroom all day.

Which takes me back to our first house…remember Al Webster? O Plumber of Plumbers? The one we named our dog after~ Alex?

The beginning of winter, when the ground is frozen with no hope of coming undone until March…we had a major pipe failure. Ol’ Al came over and with his hardy self and droopy drawers, said, “We’re not gonna be able to fix this ’til the ground thaws…”

Then he said the heart stopping words…for a girl, anyway…

“You’re not gonna be able to throw any toilet paper in the toilet. NONE. For the rest of Winter…”

WHAT?!

Ah, yes. Good times.

I haven’t gone into the air conditioning that keeps going out during the hottest days or the heater that goes out a couple of times each winter on the sub zero days. Right now, I can breathe easy on that because it’s getting warmer out~ about 40º!

No, right now, I’m concerned about the lack of water pressure that has lasted for weeks…since I came back from Arkansas. A little trickle is all she wrote. And you better not dare flush while anyone is in the shower!!!

Everyone around here is just lucky that I am still clean shaven, is all I can say. It’s tricky de-follicle-ing with only a trickle.

Come to think of it…remember the phone issues on my way to Arkansas?

I’m on my 3rd brand new phone since then. In fact, I’m due to pick up another new one right now. Each one has completely stopped charging, while being plugged into the charger, until it’s DEAD. They look at my phone and say, “I’ve never seen anything like it…”

While I’m in the store, they’ve ruined about 3 or 4 phones at each place. I’d say we’re up to 10 ruined Palm Centros by now.

Hmmm. Oh dear. OK, things are coming to the light now. It’s amazing the revelations you have in the midst of writing.

I’ve just realized…

It’s ME. Maybe I’m so full of electricity that I’m the one shorting everything out? Oh my word. How crazy would that be. I knew I had a fiery personality, but…this is ridiculous.

***Shoot. I have to get off my short horse now. Turns out, that Nate’s MOM has always thought SHE was magnetic. She has never been able to wear a watch~ they always die! Hmmmm…it’s all starting to make sense.***

Do you ever get your words mixed up? Say something you wish you hadn’t said? Or maybe you didn’t say something that you should have? Then you beat yourself up with regret that you just can’t seem to do anything right.

It could just be me, but I think everyone has days like this once in a while.

I’ll take it a step further…

Maybe there is a problem in your life and you can’t seem to shake it. A bad habit. A sin. Or a struggle that seems out of your hands…no matter what you do, there it is…just hanging over you.

Life is complicated. Sometimes we have ALL the things I mentioned going on at the same time.

It’s enough to make a girl want to hang up her pink slippers and sit down a good long while.

Sometimes, I’m so confused and caught up in the drama of life, that I don’t even know what to pray. Talk about words being mixed up. I feel like I’m a CD stuck on repeat. Oftentimes, I find myself praying for the same situations over and over, until I get to the point where I just don’t even know how to pray about that same thing even one more time.

I’ve even told God, “I don’t know why I’m praying for this again. You KNOW I need help with this…since I’ve already asked you a million times.”

I came to peace about talking back to God a while ago. I figure if Job and David could talk back a little, maybe I could get away with it too. He seems cool about it. I’ll let you know how that works out…

I’ve been resting in this particular passage of Scripture the last couple of days. It’s something I’ve heard often, but it is speaking to me again lately in regard to an ongoing situation. I don’t have an answer yet, but the Word gives me relief that He’s still right here beside me. And when He’s ready, He’ll let me know what to do.

Every version of this Scripture is wonderful, but I think this particular version is one of my favorites…

Romans 8:26-30 (The Message)
Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good. God knew what he was doing from the very beginning. He decided from the outset to shape the lives of those who love him along the same lines as the life of his Son. The Son stands first in the line of humanity he restored. We see the original and intended shape of our lives there in him. After God made that decision of what his children should be like, he followed it up by calling people by name. After he called them by name, he set them on a solid basis with himself. And then, after getting them established, he stayed with them to the end, gloriously completing what he had begun.

Oh man, if that doesn’t give you a huge sigh of relief and bursts of gratefulness, you need to scroll up and read again.

Thank you, Lord, that you know my heart…you pray for me even when I don’t have the words. You know every detail of my life and have plans for me for the good…because you know me better than anyone. You know me by name and you’re sticking with me to the very end.

Whew. OK. I feel better. Sorry, this one was for me today.

I’ve always loved writing. When I was a kid, I kept a diary…back before “journaling” was cool. I wrote poems too, but mostly I wrote my thoughts. I guess it was my way of getting it out even back then.

I wrote a few songs too. But they were never any good. They weren’t horrible, but they had the typical cliches and were really nothing special. I kind of set writing songs aside and stuck to journaling and writing stories as I got older.

In 2003, I was in the middle of a really dark season…that lasted a few years. I had miscarried a couple of times. Each time was really traumatic. My mind wasn’t in a healthy place. My health wasn’t good either. You could say I was in a pretty bad way.

One thing they don’t tell you about miscarrying is how your hormones can make you completely wacky. Not to mention the whole grieving process…

It’s excruciating to lose a child. It just is. No matter if you’re happy with your family as is, if you desperately want another baby, or if you’re NOT wanting to even be pregnant. When you lose that baby, in any condition, it’s a hard process to get through.

So, still struggling to get through this, I was sitting on the organ bench one Sunday morning. We were singing Let the Glory of the Lord. One of the verses says, “Let the songs of the Lord rise among us…” and our pastor stopped us mid-song. We have a really fun, unpredictable pastor. You never know what may happen in a church service. I love it. He had never done this, though…and hasn’t done it since, now that I think about it.

He stopped the song and said, “I believe the Lord wants to give us songs. If you feel you’d like to write songs, come up to the front…God is going to give you songs today.”

I believe he also said, “Some of you will have a new song before the week is over.”

I sat there and thought, That’s so cool. That’s really neat that people are going to write songs.

A couple of people came to the front. I sat there a moment longer. Until it hit me…I want to write songs! I scurried off that bench and got myself down there. I believe there were about twelve of us in all. The pastor prayed a simple prayer for us, we finished, and I made my way back to Miss Hammond…that’s the organ, for you non-musical types.

Well, the next morning, I woke up early and can you believe…an entire song just came to me~ before I even got out of bed. When Nate woke up, I said, “What do you think of this?” And I sang the entire song: Verse 1, Chorus, Verse 2, Chorus, Bridge, Chorus. He loved it. We were freaked out and kinda shook our heads like, Isn’t that crazy…

The next morning before I woke up, I dreamed the first line of a song. When I woke up, I got out my yellow note pad and within minutes wrote the whole song. For those of you who have my CD, it’s the first song.

I wrote a song that afternoon while Greyley was napping.

The next day, another song. And the next, and the next…

In two weeks time, I had close to 20 songs…this went on for weeks and weeks. Some of them were for our choir. Some were for our church. Some were songs for me. Most of them were just for me.

After my time of loss, it felt like God was smiling on me again. I know he was never frowning, but it sure had been a rough time. I had a significant shift. The songs that came out of me made me feel whole again. I was overwhelmed by the joy that came back…and the joy that it gave others who heard my story.

I did lose another baby after this. I can’t say things went any better~ in fact, in a lot of ways, it was worse than the other two times. But the songs, once again, are what ultimately got me through~ I poured my heart into writing. I wrote deep, dark, angry songs, but once I birthed them, the anger had a place to go…I wrote until the bitterness wasn’t in me anymore.

I sing the songs at church. I sing them at different events~ for the most part, wherever anyone asks me to come. (Have songs/Will travel.) I made a CD. Half of the songs on the CD have been recorded by other Christian artists, which was really my main objective in making the CD. Royalties are a good thing.

I’m still singing the songs that I wrote in the beginning, but am happy to say that new songs are still coming. No, not every song is great or a “hit,” but they’re all meaningful to me.

You could say that in a way, they’re my babies.

I have 8 followers here at Girly Muse. I’m not sure what that means, but it says so when I go into “Blogger Dashboard” to write every day. I think when you click my profile, it gives you the option to become a follower…which just makes me kind of giggle.

Yes, I’m a follower of Girly Muse.

What IS Girly Muse exactly?

Well, it’s a blog about hush puppies, kids, pink microphones and snow, so far…

Really?! Well then, I want to be a follower, too. Yes, by all means.

It makes my day when someone reads and enjoys…and yes, I adore comments…but I’m just loving writing. It is cathartic for me and that’s enough. So, I really appreciate the eight of you~ and the lurkers too, who are following along with me.

The last couple of days I’ve been craving adult conversation. I can go days without talking. I think I might be an unusual human, in that regard. How many words is it that women are supposed to say in one day? I’ve seen anywhere from 8,800 to 50,000 words a day, so I think it’s hardly been proven accurate, but it’s always double the amount of words men use. Most men I know talk more than I do, though. And most children, too.

I think were it not for this blog and a few really great friends who keep calling now and then, even though I am a horrible caller, I would not reach 5,000 a day.

I do make up for it with certain people. I don’t have anything against talking, necessarily, just haven’t felt the need for it much. Until now. Why now? I’m not sure. But there it is.

I love hearing my kids’ thoughts too. My children can make me laugh and think and cry like nothing else. Yesterday and today, Indigo has been saying, “I was laughing so hard it was cracking my head off.”

When he says things like that, I could pretty much stay in Kid Land and not come out. Give me balloons and pixie dust and I will just live amongst their chatter.

But some days I need to hear a grown up’s thoughts.

Today is one of those days.

Will you dialogue with me? Sometimes the writing is just for me. Most of the time it truly is. Sometimes, though, I really want to know your thoughts. If you’re taking all the time to actually read this, go ahead and jot a line or two down once in a while and let’s communicate. Just a thought. You don’t have to…you can totally keep lurking. I really do just like having you around.

How many words do you think you say each day?

When do you need to talk?

When do you need the quiet?

Are you male or female?

Looking forward to some conversing.

You will be happy to know that I have officially put my hot pink sweater poncho to rest…or out to pasture, you could say. I knew it was coming, but got confirmation upon admiring Phil Aud’s website. There is a picture of me in the group photos in St. Paul, screaming, “Hello, Pink Poncho, it’s Time to Go!” The picture is not actually screaming that, but that’s what my mind is screaming when I see the picture. That and “Good Riddance, Double Chin!” But I digress…

Phil Aud. Now, he’s awesome. He would NEVER wear a hot pink poncho, for one thing. OR, have a double chin. But besides that, I have never met a nicer musician. I’ve perhaps alluded to the fact that not all musicians are nice…what? You did not hear it from me.

Phil Aud breaks the mold in several ways.

He’s eternally optimistic. That’s a huge break right there. Musicians are typically a melancholy lot.

He never gets angry. His wife confirmed this and if your wife can say that, you’re golden.

He can write a killer hook, has incredible range, is anointed, and appreciates good food.

OK, so that last bit about food might only be important to me. And Michelle. And perhaps Bree.

I do a lot of entertaining for the clients who come into town to work with Nate and I have something to confess. Are you ready? Nothing bugs me more than a picky eater. I have ALMOST zero tolerance for it. It’s maybe the one thing that really just…IRKS me.

We’ve had the privilege of spending time with Phil and Marisa, his wife…and their two girls. Oh, I have an awesome picture to show you. This is Indigo with their little girl, Soleil. Look at that dreamy look on his face!

Doesn’t that just make you smile?

So, food…there was a time that Marisa and the girls didn’t get to come with Phil while he was recording. We missed the girls terribly and tried to help Phil not miss them quite so much…so we had him over every chance we could, fed the poor guy, and Indigo cornered him to play cars. (Indigo called him NashPhil, still does…) He ate every weird thing I put in front of him and raved. We love someone who appreciates food around here. Big points.

What I love most about Phil though, is his heart for ministry. He did a house concert in our home a couple of years ago and sang his heart out. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room. We had at least 50 people in our living room and we still hear about how exceptional that night was…

Our church also loves him. He just knows the right song to pull out in any given service…

In other words, Phil has a true gift. Marisa, she’s a whole other blog. The girl is beautiful, inside and out…sweet, lovely goodness and talented to boot.

The songs on Come May, Phil’s CD, are all about hope in the midst of trying seasons. I love each one. When you go to his website, the songs begin playing and play all the way through. You can hear every song on the CD, which is pretty nice. He also blogs, not as frequently as SOME people I know, (OK, me) but his content is FAR superior.

My favorite songs of his:
Out of the Clouds
Come May
Soleil’s Song
The Garden

I seriously enjoy every song. Thank You For the Rain is another favorite, but Nate wrote that one, so I couldn’t include it in the above list. It has some stellar background vocals, along with Out of the Clouds, if I do say so myself. (If you take a look at that picture, you’ll know exactly who is singing…plus, you’ll get a good chance to see the poncho…AND double chin!)

Give them all a listen. And he’s just as great in person, so invite him your way!!!

Thank you for listening to me rave about some of my favorite singer/songwriters. It’s important to me that you meet the quality ones. I don’t want anyone missing out on Phil.

In case you haven’t clicked on the blue words yet, click this one: www.philaud.com

I hate to do this to you, fellas, but I’m calling a Girly Day here at Girly Muse. I promise I won’t do it often, because I LOVE having you here, but…some days I just have to go there. I realize saying these things will just make you want to read all the more, but don’t blame me if you get embarrassed.

OK. You’ve been fully warned. Now, scoot…or deal with the consequences.

Before Greyley turned 10, I had The Talk with her. You know the one. It started out innocently enough and then we just covered it all. I mean ALL OF IT. It ended up being an all day conversation with her coming back in the room over and over, saying, “So…when you said (insert uncomfortable topic here), I’m just not understanding…” So we talked and talked and talked until I think she was just more confused than ever.

I just wanted to be sure that she heard what was ahead for her as a “woman” from ME and not anyone else. So…we had to start at the very beginning.

I first heard about periods in first grade from a girl who had failed the first several grades and was already in her preteens. She was scary looking~ bottlecap glasses, bulging eyes, and teeth with things hanging off them. Her greasy hair was another matter, altogether…

When she told me about the horrific-ness that was in store for me, I just knew it couldn’t be true. I went home and worked up the nerve to tell my mother what this scary girl had told me. And can you believe it? My mom confirmed everything.

I was so grossed out…but being a little first grader, I sort of put it out of my head…until I was 10.

Everything happened to me when I turned 10. It was quite the year. My long, silky waves turned into long, fried, frizzy ones. I got glasses…and glasses were NOT cute back then. My little Skinny Minnie self turned just ever so pudgy. (I have pictures to prove all these things, but nope, not sharing.) We moved from my beloved Tennessee to horribly intimidating California in the middle of the school year. My brother joined the Navy. I had my first break up with Chris Storey~ it never would have worked out, look at our names. And to top it off, I began the first major phase of womanhood.

What an awful year.

So when Greyley was approaching 10, I was determined to prepare her for the inevitable. But I had no idea it would go THERE…because once you start, there’s just no stopping. I ended up telling her about the birds and the bees and everything in between. When we put it to rest…by this time, it was nightfall…my little girl looked grown up. Some of her innocence was gone. It was a hard day for me. And also a day full of hysterical laughter for both of us.

Days later, she’d get this amused look on her face and I’d ask what was so funny. She’d say, “Just…thinking…” And we’d laugh all over again.

My girl is very introspective. She’s chatty, too, but she’s a thinker. You don’t always know what she’s thinking. She avoids the heavy subjects and would rather do just about anything than have a confrontation. Don’t get me wrong~ she loves learning, so not THAT kind of heavy subject, but she can have an issue with someone at school where she’s really been hurt and doesn’t share until weeks later. (I know, I’m praying already about what this means for teen years!)

So fast forward to this past weekend…about 8 months since that fateful chat. She’d gone home with a friend on Friday night and Nate & I had gone to a birthday party, so we didn’t see her that night. The next morning over breakfast, she brought it up to Nate..”Yesterday was really weird…just so weird…” That was as far as it went…I think Indigo came downstairs or something. So a little later, I heard her say it…but again, she didn’t continue. I didn’t think much of it…until she said it again and I realized she was trying to tell us something. She was giggling a little too nervously for it to be about a book or movie or the other things she likes to talk about.

I said, “What was weird? What happened yesterday?” She began laughing hard and saying, “It was just so weird!!!” I laughed too, but was beginning to get nervous myself, maybe because of the overuse of the word weird, so I sat down and said, “WHAT?!”

Well, it turns out they had a Human Health and Development class. She was hilarious telling how they divided the girls and the boys.

“For the boys, Mr. &$^# told them if they laughed, they had to go to the office and call their parents and not come back into class!!! For our class, they played Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.”

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun?

Anyway, I was so grateful that I had made even a weak attempt to prepare her for the conversation because I think she would have giggled right out of her chair if I hadn’t. She blushed as she showed us the pictures from the handouts. I’m not sure I like my daughter knowing some of those terms, but anyway…

At least it sounded like her class was way more fun than the boys’ class. “Mr. &$^# is on the stricter side,” Greyley said.

I’m thrilled she brought it up with us. And even though there was a lot of giggling and eye rolling, she was glad she did too. It’s important to me because I know how we react now sets the course to how she will share things with us later.

As for my sweet little angel girl, sigh. God knows it only goes downhill from here. I know Eve was swindled by the snake…she was deceived and all, but I am plenty bitter about cramps and all of our other afflictions. I can hardly stand to think of my little girl having to deal with that in the not so distant future. When I get to heaven, I might have to give Eve a good shaking and say, “WHYYYY, for the love of all that is good and holy? Was it worth it?” and then I will dropkick Adam for being a wuss with God and blaming it all on the woman. Read Genesis 3, if you need a reminder.

It’s only the beginning. I am hearing more and more stories of 12-14 year old kids having babies! So while it is uncomfortable for all of us to talk about and there are many more blushing, splotchy days ahead, I am determined to set aside the awkwardness and have open communication with my children.

If I don’t, a Scary Girl who needs to brush her teeth or Human Health & Development will.

My dog stinks…as in, smells. He’s actually a good boy, just has an odor problem that a good bath would cure for about…oh, 30 minutes. Then he would just smell like damp dog. And after a trip outside, he would be back to his original condition. He turned twelve last month, so I guess he’s getting that Old Dog smell.

To some, this would be enough to not have a dog. To me, when I smell him, I still get shocked that I can smell anything, so I sniff all the more.

I know I’m a weirdo.

My nose does not work properly. People ask me, “Has it never worked?” Well, I don’t know…I guess I’ve never really known what I was missing. Word is, since I had so many ear infections as a child (they affected my hearing too), my sniffer stopped working.

Tosh, my forever friend, has always been my Smeller. The girl can smell things from a MILE away. She’s amazing. She knows every odor known to man. And then some.

I think I’ve mentioned before that I’ve never smelled a skunk. Let me tell you, I have TRIED. Every time we pass a skunk on the highway, I do the full SNIFF and nothin‘. Everyone else is gagging and I don’t smell a bloomin‘ thing.

I realize I should probably just be grateful for that, but I’d kind of like to be Jarred with the Awfulness of Skunk at least once in my life. Don’t judge me.

There are some things I have been able to smell at various times…

My kids’ dirty diapers~ fortunately, we are past this stage.

Very strong candles, after they’ve burned for hours.

Bad perfume~ if it’s on me and I can smell it, it’s “bad”…I start getting nauseated if I can smell my own perfume.

Certain body odors, but not all…they must be extreme. See this post for more on that.

And that’s about it.

Recently, though, after going to the chiropractor for a couple of years, I have been starting to smell things. It’s a miracle! Dr. Erick told me to expect this and it has truly been happening.

The only problem is I don’t know how to distinguish what I’m smelling.

For instance, for the last month or so, all I can smell is Pickle. I smell like Pickle. Everyone’s breath smells like Pickle. The air smells like Pickle.

The only time it let up is the other day at the hockey game. I went into the fancy hall, outside the suites and was hit with Wet Dog. The hall smelled like Wet Dog. The bathrooms smelled like Wet Dog. Passing the phenomenal dessert tray on my way back into the suite, the smell of Wet Dog hit me in the face.

Upon leaving, I was assaulted again with Pickle.

So there’s obviously something faulty going on here. I want my money back.

My heart is heavy for some loved ones of mine. It seems as if things come in waves, in seasons…sickness, joy, birth, death. This seems to be a season of sickness for people I love and THEIR loved ones.

My mother was in her early 30s when she lost her parents. I can’t even imagine how that must have felt. I know when we had a cancer scare with my mom last year, I was devastated at the thought of losing her. To see my close friends’ moms and dads being so sick is a helpless feeling. I want to help and am not sure how.

It’s also shocking to know that it’s something that everyone will most likely have to go through at some point in their life. What a horrible thought.

I have several prayer requests.

My friends, Steve & Jill…Steve’s stepmom, Danna. She needs prayer. She is a dear friend of mine too. She had a horrible fall back in January. I’ve actually thought she was recovering much faster than she really is. She was back on Facebook within days of the accident making wisecracks, so I thought she was getting back to normal, but it turns out she is having a lot of trouble recovering. She’s suffering with severe headaches, memory loss, and just needs to sleep all the time. We love Danna and NEED her. She is an incredible woman and I can’t bear the thought of her not being herself soon.

My friends, Allen & Brenda…their dad, Paul Forsythe. He has cancer that has spread throughout his body, after years of chemotherapy. He’s had a long, hard battle fighting for his health. I’m praying for peace and strength for all of them.

My friend, Dayna…her mom, Ann Howell. I grew up with Dayna in California and found out Friday night that they’d found a tumor in her mom’s brain. The doctors have given Ann 1-2 months to live. It’s devastating. Dayna is requesting prayer for her mother. She needs a miracle.

When you’re going through these excruciating storms, the last thing you necessarily want to hear is that there is a season for everything or that God works all things for the good. You just want an answer, deliverance, healing…it doesn’t matter that it happens to everyone. That is just not enough. It shouldn’t happen. But it does. And sometimes in the middle of it or down the road later on, you realize that in the pain or anger or even in the resolve, God was there all along, turning something hideous into something beautiful.

And then there are some losses we just won’t ever understand. These are the hardest. I have a few bones to pick with God when I get up to heaven. I might be wrong, but I think He’s OK with that.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-11
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
What profit hath he that worketh in that wherein he laboureth?
I have seen the travail, which God hath given to the sons of men to be exercised in it. He hath made every thing beautiful in his time: also he hath set the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end.

My prayer in these situations is that this will be a time to rejoice, and a time for MIRACLES; a time to hope, and a time to LIVE. God is capable of all things. We ask for divine healing. Let it be so, Lord.

Hockey is a big deal in Minnesota.

When I dated Nate, one of my first trips here, we played hockey on a lake behind a friend’s house. It seemed everyone was born with ice skates on their feet. They skated circles around me.

I have never thought of myself as athletic, but I’m game to try just about anything. Still, it is never something I’d think to do on my own…go hit a puck with a stick. I wasn’t any good. At all. But it gave me an appreciation for how hard it actually is to skate, hit a tiny moving object and get it across the rink with everyone trying to snatch it out of my reach. Pretty challenging.

The Minnesota Wild is our local hockey team. Yesterday we were able to go with our friends, Steve & Jill, to a game. Thanks, you two!!! They work at a swanky office downtown and had seats in a suite. It was SO fun. And remember how I told you Sara Renner sings for The Wild? They were playing The Edmonton Oilers, so Sara sang two songs…O Canada and The Star Spangled Banner…this was after she rocked it leading worship with us at ABC. I’ve never been more proud.

It was a great game. Minnesota won. It was all very exciting. The place was packed and pumped.

I made a few observations throughout the course of the game…

1) The mascot for the Wild is some sort of animal that I’ve never seen. He looks part bear, fox, gopher, and a few other things. He also sports a mullet. I’m not sure how I feel about that, but he was doing cute poses for the news crew, so I guess he’s not all bad. He did have a certain charm, even though I’m still a little scared of things dressed up in animal costumes. (Hangover from childhood) His name is Nordy. I’m wondering who comes up with these decisions. I think I could help them out.

2) The uniforms are green and red. Think Christmas. I have nothing against Christmas, but really…there are so many other color choices on the palette. I could also really help them out in this area.

3) Boys really have it so made. When I saw all the aggression they could get away with on that rink, I realized this is why boys just think so much simpler than girls. I’m not saying girls are smarter~ I won’t even try to broach that subject. But I do think guys are just less complicated.

Think about it with me…it just would not work for girls to go out on an ice rink and get into a fight. There are always fights in hockey games. The guys are yelling one minute, then placed in their little penalty box where they yawn and sit there like it’s no big deal. If that was a girl, there would be tears, hair pulled, names called and then someone would try to get in the middle and fix it before the other was carried to the box. Hair would be patted back into place. Someone would feel bad about how they pulled hair and everyone would be hugging by the end of it. Either that or they would be carried off kicking and screaming, with everyone else shaking their heads and angrily skating off the rink, dabbing their eyes.

There would be no high-fiving at the end.

I bet those guys feel really good when the game is over. They can probably even be nice because they’ve gotten all the mean out of them on the rink.

I think I’m going to take up hockey.

Except…we came home and I was challenged to a Wii boxing competition. I’ve never done the boxing on there, but I’ve mentioned before that Indigo is the champion. Greyley’s become quite good at it too, although she’s a PRO at tennis…but tonight was my first time to play…

I WON the competition.

So maybe I won’t have to do hockey after all. Maybe I can keep my teeth, nose and hair and stick to punching air in my living room. Indie was very concerned that I beat Nate in one fell blow. I think I might have traumatized him that I beat him too…the champion. I might have to hide my skills after all, but there’s always nap time. I’ll get out that aggression and be sweet as pie when everyone wakes up.

It’s a good plan.

This morning, we spent time outside, playing a little bit and seeing what winter might have done to the yard. The Great Thaw has continued. We can finally see grass. Yippee!

Down by the barn, there is an ice rink. It isn’t one that we created, but one that just naturally occurred over the last week or so. It’s about 8 feet by 35 feet and we had a great time sliding across it, pretending like we were ice skating.

We also came across some perfectly round things on the side of the barn.
I asked Nate if he thought they were droppings.
He was sure they were nuts.
I said they were unlike any nuts I’d ever seen.
He suggested I eat one.
I REFUSED.
“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” says he.
He then proceeded to squish one with the end of a stick.
Then I was very glad I hadn’t popped “a nut” into my mouth, because it was, indeed, a dropping.

I’m sitting on the deck, with a blanket and hoodie, enjoying the sunshine. It is a heavenly day…still chilly if you aren’t in the sun, but with my blanket around me, I am feeling nice and toasty.

Thank you for all the Vitamin D advice. You were so right. Here is what a little sunshine will do for you.

Weary & Worn

Feeling the Goodness

A Whole Lot Lighter

OK, so it’s not a wonderful photographic transformation. It would have been a lot more dramatic if I’d run inside and fixed up my au naturel face before taking the last picture, but that would have been cheating.

I FEEL better. Can you tell?

Thank the good Lord. And thank you for all your sweet, encouraging words. I know some of you were worried and hoping I’d snap out of it already. I’m close. Give me a few more hours on this deck and I might be good to go.

You’ll have to excuse me, the sun has moved and I have to go find it.