Tempted to Escape Your Life?

"...though you do not [even] now see Him, you believe in Him and exult and thrill with inexpressible and glorious (triumphant, heavenly) joy."   ... 1 Peter 1:8

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With interest (and prayer) I followed that story of the missing dad from the Broncos game and what a relief, at 5:30 this morning, to read he'd been found. Safe.

While Tom ate his French toast during the news, we discussed what might have led this man to Pueblo, CO (since nobody's answering our questions right now) and one of my guesses was, "Maybe he just wanted to escape his life for awhile."

Hey. It happens. 

After Tom left for work I considered (again) how vital it is for us all to actively create a life we'd fight to keep rather than one which tempts us to escape whenever things go all wonky.

Me? I love this life which God and I have customized. That must be true because of days like my Monday two weeks ago. Was it sunny? Did I travel someplace exciting? Did I win something?

Uh, no.

I flipped on the tv and discovered Rehab Addict would be on for hours(!) then, during a commercial, stepped out to the front porch where I spied a long box. Hooray! My new telescopic squeegee had arrived.

I'd needed one for three years (having left ours at the farm) because our dining room windows must be cleaned from the outside and now both the newly-installed windows do, also. They so do not fold in for easy, convenient cleaning.

Stepping back into the house, I thanked God and ripped open the box while letting the inspiration that is Nicole Curtis seep into me. And the squeegee had a sponge attached! I'd not even noticed that when I ordered it online.

During the next hour of commercials I washed spots from five windows, no ladder needed. I put a load of dishes through the dishwasher (which I keep forgetting to tell you finally cast its spell upon me two years ago). And while I vacuumed, the sun appeared, I ate lunch, folded clothes and ironed six of Tom's shirts (all with Nicole).

And--by the time Tom unlocked the back door--I felt like I'd been on vacation. Or been sprinkled with fairy dust. Or something else rather odd.

You'll never watch a news story hinting that I escaped my life, not with all the love and work God has poured into me: 

... the lessons of forgiveness, saying no, saying yes, staying in control of my feelings, training my thoughts, expressing delight in tiny things, loving God with my all and--. 

Besides, there is no leaving my flawed self (as Joyce Meyer says, "Wherever you go, there you are"). But now I'll never try, for anyone who can feel giddy about a squeegee on a pole and a tv show about restoring old houses, doesn't feel the need to start all over. 

She already has. Thank God.

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Tom felt fine yesterday and returned to work, but he must have been pretty sick over the weekend to have forgotten to tell me that Netflix now has 25 episodes of Rehab Addict(!) and he'd added it to our instant queue. Oh my, seeing it there, I nearly had a happy seizure. 

Wow. I watched one minute of the first episode, felt a sudden jolt of inspiration and raced upstairs, grabbed my little glass-top table, ran outside with it (and some newspaper), swung open the garage door, grabbed some light blue spray paint and painted the table. All on a sunny, record-breaking warm Autumn day.

Another day to remember. Oh, there are many.

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Lest anyone have a fit in my comment box, I'm not saying the dad who went to Pueblo tried to avoid his life. His story simply made a good jumping-off point for a blog post.  :)

** Note: his story has been updated since I linked to it. You can judge for yourself now why he left. Even though, frankly, I consider it none of my business. heh.


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Lazy Woman Photography

“Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.” 
― Albert Camus

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On Sunday, Tom came down with a sinus-y/headache-y/flu-like thing, but Monday morning he prepared for work since he believed himself better. But just before leaving, he realized he was not, so he called in sick for the first time in 18 months. Well, in America, he said. Once while in S. Africa he spent a work day in his room due to not feeling well.

Anyway, that meant I had the car! And outside was sunny! So I traveled back to where we'd ventured on Saturday and took all the photos I'd thought were forever gone. And felt extremely blessed.

Though I'll warn you: I took them Lazy Woman Photographer Style, as in, only from the car windows and while stopping in the center of only 3 or 4 streets just one mile away from home. So please imagine the colors even brighter and the feeling of it all more ethereal, ok? (I hope you will enlarge them for a fuller effect.)

Oh, I am most grateful that God placed us in this beautiful state!

 

Happy Autumn to all my readers!

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“God will make a way when there seems to be no way."   ... copied

“I loved autumn, the one season of the year that God seemed to have put there just for the beauty of it.” 
― Lee Maynard

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My friend, Dolores, shared this at Facebook and how true! How very true.  :)

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Free Kindle books:


Let Them Eat Cake

One of Their Own

Thou Shalt Not Diet

Darn. I Forgot The Camera.

"And He said unto me, My grace is sufficient for you..."  ... 2 Corinthians 12:9

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Late one night many (many!) years ago, Tom and I watched a Saturday Night Live skit where a family went on vacation in their station wagon. Next they're tooling along, looking out their windows and when they see The Grand Canyon, suddenly the dad moans, "Oh no! I forgot the camera!"

Then I think they drive past Niagara Falls and the wife says, "Darn! We forgot the camera!" After that, they spy crazy-wild things like three rainbows at once, Big Foot running through the woods and finally, a Pterodactyl flying in the sky. The kids in the backseat whine and shout, "I can't believe you forgot our camera!"

I so felt like that on Saturday. 

I mean, good gracious:

On our way to estate sales, the sun shone and sparkled upon Tom and myself after stubbornly hiding in clouds for days.

Red, gold and orange trees glowed. A breeze fluttered leaves down gently upon our windshield and on the street before us and we felt as though we'd slipped into a parade with confetti.

We discovered an ancient neighborhood we'd never driven through, one in a half-circle around a sweet little park.

The 1910-ish estate sale house there totally stole my heart and I stepped around its creaking floors in a trance. Its backyard looked like a 1930's movie set about an abandoned-but-once-beautiful house.

And of course, I forgot my camera at home. And Tom left his cell phone at work on Friday. We are sorry people, indeed.

I so wanted to share all these wonders with you! I kept kicking myself (in my too tight shoes, even) for forgetting my camera on a peak day of Autumn in New York. I reminded Tom of that ancient SNL skit and told him I was so there right now.

Sunday was gloomy-grey again. All day.

But I had to forgive myself for my forgetfulness (and for wearing the wrong shoes). We hear so often that God says we must forgive others, yet (I believe, anyway), we have to also forgive ourselves for our flaws, allowing them to make us more dependent upon God for everything, instead. 

If we don't forgive? We chance entering into a scary type of I'm-mad-at-me unforgiveness that simmers like stew inside us for decades.

And who wants that? 




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"[There is] therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit."   ... Romans 8:1



“In a very real sense not one of us is qualified, but it seems that God continually chooses the most unqualified to do his work, to bear his glory. If we are qualified, we tend to think that we have done the job ourselves. If we are forced to accept our evident lack of qualification, then there's no danger that we will confuse God's work with our own, or God's glory with our own.”
― Madeleine L'Engle, Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art


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Every Sunday afternoon, I camp out. No really--here:

I drag my chair from the guest room and place it beside the bed in my new tiny room, along with my oh-so-useful soon-to-be-blue table. Tom watches his football and Nascar downstairs and I sit up here and watch tv and eat lunch and snacks and read my books, also:

We spend every Saturday together, but Sunday afternoons we each do our own thing. It works for us--and that's what matters.

(See my book wall? It's my miniature version of a dream-come-true room I'd love to have someday. Something much like this:)

Oh yeah. Inside my head, I am so there. Even now.  Already. :)


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This is the view from my new little room. I loved my closet room, but I must admit that having a window now is better, especially during these glorious Autumn days.

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