His first pinwheel. He played happily and peacefully for over an hour. Taught me so much about fully immersing myself in the joy of discovery and exploration and just opening myself to receiving the pleasures that surround me. Where would I be without my wonderful children to teach me and lead me?
One (more) not so pretty thing about depression is trying to figure out how to face all the things you’ve neglected because of it, without letting overwhelm drag you right back in.
I have all these emails and projects (that involve OTHER PEOPLE) that I’m working my way through, and I so much feel like giving each person an explanation of WHY I am so behind and just now getting around to things, and that it’s not that I don’t value them, or see my commitments as important, but that I’ve just simply failed, and that I’ve been hiding from that, and that now I’m “back” so to speak, and trying to tackle things and get back a bit of control…
And THAT is overwhelming, and a bit too “bare” emotionally for me. I really don’t want to discuss it at all, and I know that offering explanations like that will open the way for conversation.
So, I think I’ll just jump back in, do what I can, and hope people will forgive me and allow me another chance.
Someone asked me what Ostara means. There is not really one clear-cut answer to this, for as many pagans as you ask, you will get that many answers! Here is (a very short version of) what Ostara means for our family.
We’ve never done Santa, or even celebrated Christmas really. We’re cool with that. We started something new last year though, and I’m really loving it and the way my children have taken hold of it and made it their own. Sometime between Thanksgiving and the beginning of December we hang stockings from the living room mantel. (Novel, I know) 😉
Then, the children sneak and fill one another’s stockings with notes of appreciation, coupons of promises to do chores for one another, and their treasures that others have admired.
They’re really sacrificial about it, to the extent that sometimes I want to stop them, to say “Hey! You don’t have to give THAT away!” But then I remember- that’s the whole point!
And they GET IT. Way better than I do. I wish you could see the happy shine in their eyes when they walk away from successfully sneaking something really good into someone’s stocking. It makes me cry most times.
Tonight I noticed that the stockings are hanging heavy, things are peeking out of the tops of a few. And I’m just so happy with my awesome family.
Wow. This post was challenging to me, in a scary sort of way… The way that I’m not sure if I should accept the challenge or run from it…
Do what you love | Simple Mom
So often, I’ve heard/said/thought about self-denial being a virtue in and of itself, and I’ve reveled in the “martyr feeling” of it. (Yes, I know THAT’S wrong…) But I’ve viewed the type of thing described in the link so often as a spiritualized cover for selfishness and the refusal of self-denial that I’m just plain scared of it, even though it seems to make perfect sense and something in me says “Yes!” Maybe that something saying “yes” is the Self I need to die to. Or maybe it’s the me that God created and is waiting to see bloom.
I know that no one can answer these questions for me, that it’s between Him and I. I’m interested in your thoughts though, and your journey. Let me know what you think!
“In the image of God, look into that darkness and speak”
(you can’t entertain two emotions at once, drive one away with another!)
May I grow this way and walk on what I am beginning to understand while there is still so much I don’t? Read the rest of this entry
I was thinking over "my will or his will", as I was asked which of these I'm really wanting. The question was a good one for me, I've thought it over before, in different times and circumstances, but not for a long time.
I had to really check myself for a while.
I think I can accept his.
I know there is a Creator, and that he is Good and that he is Truth, and even though I don't know him like I thought I did, I'm good with letting him have control. I don't know best.
But what I'm NOT good with is being told authoritatively what his will is when people really can't do that.
I started thinking about when Jesus was here, the Word become Flesh.
The sick, the lame, the demon possessed, the blind…
Zoom in on just the blind for a minute. Even just there, in healing the very same malady, he didn't even do it the same way each time. Sometimes he just spoke. Sometimes he touched the person. Sometimes he needed to do it twice. Sometimes he made mud with spit…
Please, click on over from the link above the video. The video itself is inspiring, but coupled with Kat’s words… Well, she made me cry, and I’m not a cry-er.
I do have some questions though. After I cried, and thought about how I’d either never read those verses with that understanding, or else I’d forgotten that Truth, then I remembered…
I’ve watched someone cry out to God for YEARS.
Desperately. Read the rest of this entry
I’m still a word nerd, and vocabulary is always fun for me, the more sesquipedalian, the better. But arguing a point over choice of words, when, like it or not, definitions ARE fluid and given to personal inflection, is just wasteful quibbling.
I’ve had several “shakedowns” (my personal choice) over the years I’ve known Jesus. The first few felt devastating to me, like I was committing some sort of betrayal, or declaring him untrustworthy. I now know that some (not all) of that was because I had espoused a culture and a system rather than *him*, and that was something that needed to be winnowed away. Read the rest of this entry