A Saturday Treat

Oh, I have a treat for you today.

I met Cheryl way, way back when I was 14 and she was 13 and she has always been the sweetest thing since chocolate cake. Well, this past week Cheryl became a grandmother for the very first time and so at Facebook (where lovely reunions and sharings of joy happen everyday) she showed us this photo of her and her husband first meeting their tiny, new grandson. Now prepare yourself, for this is one lovely picture:

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Oh my. Do you love that? As her aunt (who I've also known nearly 40 years) said at Facebook, the raw emotion shows through. And what a sweet baby, too.

I adore that photo and I just wanted to share it with those of you who understand why. We all get slapped with tons of bad news online and so I believe we need extra, mega-doses of good news to remind us that, yes, right and sweet and holy things still take place every single day.

Never let anyone steal your joy. Instead keep it, enjoy it--then spill it over onto others all over the place.

Have a blessed Saturday. Let's all count how many things are going right today.



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Cheryl's mom and I kept in-touch by way of snail mail for more than 30 years and now we can chat any time we wish by way of Facebook. Jeanette is one of the blessings nearest the top of my blessings list.


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Good News

Guess what? Cher did work some magic and the deal is back on. (See my last post if you have no idea what I'm talking about.)

We'll lower our asking price by $1,500, keep (well, sell the tractor we were going to throw into the deal) and our buyers will come up with an additional $4,000 for a downpayment which will make its way to us. It's a fair compromise.  As I've been saying all along, they really, really want this house.  Frankly, they're welcome to it.

Please don't ask me to repeat that. heh.

Just thought I'd let you know! Thanks so much for your prayers. I think Tom and I passed this test--no one threw a temper tantrum, nobody begged God for his/her own will to be done nor made silly, frantic promises. We stayed peaceful and viewed it all as a win-win situation.

Maybe we're finally catching-on after all. Growing-up.  Maybe.


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Trouble Down On The Farm. Well, Kinda.

Uh-oh. Rough times again.

The bank appraisal was re-evaluated and they are not budging. It's still coming in $5,500 less than the price we'd settled on with our buyers.

We can't do that. That was the money we needed to make Hobbit Cottage more winter-friendly and it's not like we have tons of other money coming in, at least not right now.

So you know? Tom and I sat here yesterday (downing vanilla Oreos since my head can't handle chocolate anymore--how unfair is that at times like these?) and discussed forgetting this whole thing. Just staying here until we move out-of-state.

I mean, hey--Naomi found an apartment and will move away so I'll get Upstairs Land back to myself. I felt more peaceful about this place all week and Tom promised to do more of the mowing outside, himself (yeah, I'll get that in writing and hey! He asked me to put a few things in writing, like I promise not to get all crabby if we must stay here, etc.). 

And Tom can even have the whole living room as his official man cave. Doesn't matter anymore--just give me a getaway of my own upstairs and I'll be fine.

We'd still hold the huge yard sale and live here with less stuff--so much so--that the walls would echo (I can dream.) And we'd still rescue two more cats. Soon.

But then Tom spoke with Cher on the phone.

And long story short, she's going to try to make this work so that everybody's happy. Good luck to her, but hey-- if anyone can do that, Super Realtor Cher can.

So we shall see what we shall see.

What I'm grateful for? I've learned not to hold anything by its throat, whining, "If I can't have ________ then I cannot be happy ever."

I know better than that. I've been taught better by my years and experiences and by God, Himself.

No, there's only one 'thing,' one Person who I must have in order to be happy. And I think you all know just Who that is.

Stay tuned.



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The movie, The Source Code, is arriving today via Netflix. Oh my, perfect timing! I've longed to see that film since the first mili-second I saw the advertisement, for that's probably always been my favorite genre of film--I'm talking since I was a kiddo watching hokey Sci-Fi on Saturday afternoons.

Anyone else see it? Without giving anything away, what did you think? シ


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"My times are in your hands, oh Lord..."  ... Psalm 31:15


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Found a Nifty Cookbook. An Octagon House, Also.

I found this oh-so-nifty cookbook at an outdoor church sale one glorious Saturday last month and just had to share it with you. Published in 1950 by the Ford Motor Company, it has amazing illustrations of famous eating places, many of which I've looked up online and found that they're still in business all these 60 years later!

(I'm trying to forgive Blogger for turning these photos the wrong way. Gah. If you're willing to turn your head sideways you can get a better look if you click to enlarge.)

Really, it's such fun looking through this book at the artwork. I've not even paid attention to the recipes yet!

Just thought I'd share this with you. Rather a great deal for only 50 cents, right? Especially on a lovely summer afternoon there outside the church up on a hill, standing alone, overlooking the valley. Tom and I bought hot dogs and chocolate chip cookies there then sat in the car (in the shade) and read our new books. Then we were off again because this countryside town was having an annual town-wide yard sale day. We've had hundreds of such fun, memorable days together and I am grateful.

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Oh, and during The Great House Search of 2011, we traveled for the first time to a town even more in the middle of nowhere than ours and saw this amazing house:

Even prettier in-person, it took our breath away. You can read about its interesting history here. Click on the link at the bottom for a few photos from inside the house, too.


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What I'm Watching (Please Be Kind...)

Oh! I forgot to tell you something.

Most likely because it's so embarrassing to do so.

But here goes: Last week I began instant-Netflixing the tv series, Man v. Food.

There, I said it. Whew. (Wasn't sure if I could admit it to you. We are talking major guilty pleasure here. Major.)

Oh my, goodness. I love that show! Really. But the odd thing? It flies in the face of everything I believe and have preached about food. Everything. But yeah, yeah.... Still, I love watching the host, Adam, travel around to all these diners, eating the yummiest-looking junk food your eyes ever beheld.

He even takes these challenges--eats a ton of bbq (or whatever fill-in-the-blank) in order to win t-shirts and/or to have his picture put up on a wall.

Oh dear. While Adam (who's hilarious and makes me laugh aloud) is eating all that fatty, cheesy, salty stuff, I pray for him. I pray that he (and his fellow diner-visitors) will get some common sense and stop eating that way so that he'll live past 40.

(Though I did read that he tries to eat sensibly on the days he's not filming. So there's that.)

I can't get over how it's almost like tasting all that food, myself. Well, not all of it, because hey! I would never eat all of that fried, buttery, chewy, delectable--uh--food. But oh my, the reckless, comfort-food-loving part of me can nearly taste those bbq'd ribs and the burgers and steaks, myself. I mean, the milkshakes Adam drank today! I almost wiped away the coffee milkshake moustache from my own mouth afterward. 

(Hey, I said almost.)

Gah. I  know I shouldn't like that show. It stands for everything in the food world gone wrong. I know it's a sin to eat like a proverbial pig.

But still I watch. And I thought I should confess this to you on my 7th blogiversary, of all days.

Forgive me.  シ



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The Other Side of Decluttering

Okay. Lest you think (after reading my last post) that it's a cinch for me to fling everything away during The Great Decluttering of 2011, let me say this:

Sometimes it almost physically hurts to let go of my stuff.

Really. The hardest things for me to release? My books, dvd's and people's gifts, especially Naomi's. Though Naomi is the most amazing gift-giver, personally--so it's a rare gift of hers that lands in the to-sell-box. So there is that. 

But oh! Each time I sit ruthlessly down amongst piles of my books, that's when the heart pain begins. Oh, my books! And yet I do long to be sensible--to keep books I'll read over and again and only those for which I have shelving.

And that's rough. Going through my dvd's? Pretty similar. Some characters feel like old friends.

So see? I have my decluttering issues, also. 

What helps? Reminding myself of the airy, free feeling over on the other side of having decluttered a room/closet/drawer. And knowing someone else in my world found what I released and viewed it, perhaps, as an answer to prayer.

There is all that, also.



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"Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful."


... William Morris



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So on these hot days I'm reading like crazy and yesterday I finished the second book in the 'Claire series', Claire Knows Best. Adored it like the first one and now as I'm reading the third book, I Love Claire, I'm just as delighted and impressed!


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Decluttering My Way to Freedom

Actually? I am loving the decluttering process. 

Stuff some yard sale boxes and bags with old clothes, dishes and knick-knacks I've not worn or used in three years and, instantly, I feel downright virtuous.

There is a rhythm to purging a home, a life, of useless clutter, a rhythm nearly like music that makes one feel weightless, as though she can soar.

Or something like that.

Do you remember my 1960's-bicycle post? It's one of my favorites in 7 years of gathering stories for my blog. (This weekend marks 7 years of doing so. Seven years--yikes! How long-winded I must be.)

Anyway, when God brought that bike practically right to my front door I adored Him for His kindness. I celebrated God's goodness by taking bike rides around our suburban block and smiled and felt ten-years-old all over again. A lovely happening, that.

But then we moved to the country, I stored the bike inside our barn, and it's leaned there against the chicken roost-thingy for three years.

Three whole years. (Though ok, twice I sat it near my garden for effect when we had guests. But hey.)

So you know what that means, don't you? When we have our big yard sale next month, I will sell my pretty, blue, God-given bike.

It's time. And even though we're moving back to the 'burbs, I now know myself better, that I'll not ride the bicycle there, either. I'll walk, yes, but no bike-riding. Besides--we won't have room for it in our tiny garage, so the bike needs to go.

But will my grateful memories of that bicycle go with it? Am I being disloyal to God for releasing His obvious gift to me? Of course not. No, the memories are safely tucked away. That gift was for a very specific time, and God and I both realize that. 

The giving away of that bicycle gift will dim nothing. Always we are letting go of something, that is, if we're growing and moving-on at God's rate of speed. 

His plans for us are never stagnant or stale. No, He wishes to move us forward with a lightness of heart that enables us to fly, once released from its heavy stuff. 




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Darn Ol' Tests

Happy days are here again.

Not. Heh.

Nah, this is all not a big deal. It's just that yesterday I spent the day at our kitchen desk, reading mostly, because this was the only room cooler than 87 degrees. Well, the bathroom actually has the one-room air-conditioner (which blows into the kitchen) and felt cool, of course, but who wants to spend the entire day in there?

And yes, there are worse ways to spend a summer day than reading, making lunch and washing dishes in a kinda-air-conditioned kitchen. I understand that. It's just that confining feeling which bothers me, the one that taunts, "Leave this small cell room and you'll die."  ツ

Anyway. Tom  had to leave at 6:30 last night to travel to our former town so he could pick up our 2010 tax receipts from our tax guy and of course, right after he left, Cher called with some bad news. The (kinda sullen) bank appraisal lady from Tuesday appraised our house at $5,500 less than our asking price.

Good grief. And here we'd thought we were generous with that sale price.

But as I told Cher, I'd been concerned that the bank appraiser didn't even step into our (expensive-to-build) garage we'd added on and did she even notice all the other improvements we'd made since the last appraisal in 2008? 

Then I told Cher, "Well, I don't think she went inside the garage. Hmm... I should ask Tom when he gets back." Cher said do that because that could mean something good for us later.

Oh these tests, especially the patience ones. They come hot and heavy and annoy me. But still, I try to pass them with peace and faith because--once you pass them--they do become easier the next time. At least, that's the theory. 

So I waited and cleaned the house (slowly) till Tom arrived home, told him the news, then he called Cher saying, no, he didn't see the appraiser step into the garage. We (miraculously) found the original appraisal paperwork from 2008 and Cher promised to try to work some magic for us today.

Of course, the other test is test is to believe God will provide the extra $5,500 we'll need to buy Hobbit Cottage--if it comes to that. But you know? I can do that. Believing for God's monetary provision is one thing I've done since I was a girl growing-up in a Baptist minister's home when that's pretty much all we did--believe for money. heh.

But it was the other thing--the thing of Cher calling with bad news as soon as Tom drove out of the driveway when he'd been here all day long. Those tests make me bonkers. And that, of course, is why I still experience them. 

They won't cease (or won't stop bothering me) until I start passing them, until I stop moaning, "Why does this always happen? Why can't we get these calls when we're both here? And where is Tom anyway?" They won't stop until they no longer zap my peace and make me roll my eyes.



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John 14:27


Peace I leave with you; My [own] peace I now give and bequeath to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid. [Stop allowing yourselves to be agitated and disturbed; and do not permit yourselves to be fearful and intimidated and cowardly and unsettled.]

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"You will remember all the way the Lord your God led you in the desert these forty years, to humble you, and how He tested you to know what was in your heart to see if you would keep His commandments or not." Deuteronomy 8:2

For a more detailed post about tests, here's one I wrote years ago.


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First, Run To God, Then ...

God. Who's crazy enough to try to explain Him?

Only silly people like me. :)

I've noticed something kinda wild. When I'm having the hardest, most traumatizing times in my life, friends stop emailing me. I get almost no comments here at my blog. My life goes all radio silence people-wise.

(Insert crickets chirping here.)

 You know, rather like that tv commercial where the couple buys a new refrigerator then-- when the delivery guy leaves--they realize they forgot to ask about a guarantee (or something) so they race out the door to catch him, but alas! Outside there's only an expanse of desert sand. And silence.

But hey! I've got God figured-out on this one.

See, it used to upset me that just when (I believed) I needed people the very most, poof! they disappeared. Vanished, leaving me to wander around to discover some comfort on my own. And then eventually, I'd wander to God and find deep healing from my pain from His cool, healing pools.

And ok, because I'm so slow to comprehend these things, it required years to see that was God's best plan for me. That I would seek Him first. Find my best healing in His arms. I even figured-out that it's probably God, Himself, who closes the eyes and ears of my friends from my hardest times, at least until I've sought Him for comfort, first.

After all, He can be funny that way.

So hey, years ago I stopped getting mad at my friends (which only destroys progress) for their cluelessness to my emotional aches and pains. There's no need for that because I've got God figured-out on this one thing, at least. Go to Him first, Debra. Run to the Throne instead of the phone (heh. Another Joyce Meyer classic line.)

Now, can God help comfort us through our friends? Of course He can. We do, after all, need each other and He's put us together for a reason. But what I've found? Even dearest friends cannot help and comfort me as completely, as powerfully, as the Friend who sticks closer than a brother.

And that's ok. I no longer expect them to.


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"You shall have no other gods before me... For I, the Lord, am a jealous God."


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Oh! I dscovered a James Taylor and Mark Knopfler song this morning. If you like great guitar stuff and harmonies, you'll enjoy this.


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Of God's Timing, Not Mine

So. I forgot to tell you that we're no longer planning to move to a southern state when we retire. As in, a state located below this one.

That is, if we ever get out of New York. (Fortunately, I still love this state, though Tom is undecided. Depends upon which day you ask him.)

But anyway, finally I convinced Tom he just wouldn't be able to handle the humidity in places like North or South Carolina. I mean, we'll walk away from a yard sale, back to our car, and he'll whimper exclaim, "Wow! I can't believe how humid it is today!" Then I'll say (me, who can barely deal with humidity), "Are you kidding? This is nothing. It's cool and breezy. Didn't even notice it was hot. And you think you'd survive the South??"

Well, that's been going on a few years now and finally Tom saw the proverbial light. He's now thinking more western-like for our retirement.

So after we settle into Hobbit Cottage we'll take our time and check-out all those Best Places to Retire lists online. Do our own research, listen to God's whispers and most likely, "Go West, old couple."  heh

It's a relief though, that we're realizing faith requires unanswered questions because you know, don't you, how we folks can be? We want to know ahead of time. We want answers. Where will we end up retiring? When will we get there? What will happen to us there? How will we afford it? Who, what, where, when, why? That's the human side of us.

But the spiritual, godly, trusting side says, "It will be well with my soul. And everything's gonna be all right."

I mean, hey! For years I (seriously) believed it would take us anywhere from 2 months to 2 years to sell this farm. But what did it take? Four days. Yep, put a house up for sale when God says, "Go for it! Why wait?", and well, you never know. Miracles just might happen.

And that's what I remind myself when I begin to (already, sheesh!) doubt our future ability to sell Hobbit Cottage when we're ready to leave good ol' New York. It's one small house! Yet God reminds me there's a very real trend for people to downsize these days--He even makes certain I run across lots of online news stories which confirm that. But more, He keeps reminding (ol' still too doubtful) me what matters most is that we sell when He says sell and that we trust Him to find us a buyer.

... that we don't just include Him in our plans, no! But rather, that we follow His plan, instead.

Life looks and feels so differently when God is calling the shots. This is what I am learning.


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"In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your paths."


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Time to Get Up, Time to Heal

"And the Israelites wept for Moses in the plains of Moab thirty days; then the days of weeping and mourning for Moses were ended." ... Deuteronomy 34:8


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I love this, truly I do. 

"...the Lord said to Joshua, "Moses My servant is dead. So now arise, go ... you and all this people, into the land which I am giving to them."  Joshua 1:1,2



Why? Because there comes a time to end our mourning and move onto new places, otherwise we condescend to live without joy and that leads to living without strength--and we become weaklings. You know, everything overwhelms us, everything is too hard, too sad.

So God, for our sakes, commands us to take up our mourning beds and walk, walk back into joy and strength and abundant life. But does He just tell us? No, He enables us to do so--and that nudge contains all the joy, all the strength we need.

Hallelujah. 



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Isaiah 55:12


For you shall go out with joy and be led forth with peace; the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.


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Again, God's not saying we shouldn't grieve at all (I once heard an evangelist preach that God does say that(!) ), but rather, there comes a time to end the grieving and move on in joy to special places He wants to take us.


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Oh! Susan Branch shared her Peter Rabbit Room today. Love it.


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Another Suddenly!

"And the Lord shall make you the head, and not the tail; and you shall be above only, and you shall not be beneath, if you heed the commandments of the Lord ... and are watchful to do them."  ... Deuteronomy 28:13


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My oh my... it was one rough week around here, around the inside of my head, especially. I so felt beneath things and as though I was the tail of everything and certainly not the head of anything. I kept quoting Peter Walsh's, "It's all too much!" . 

Oh dear.
 
While sailing along the countryside, I even told Tom I didn't care how long we stayed out because I just didn't want to go home(!) He asked why not and I said, "Ugh. Don't ask. Just don't wanna go back there for awhile."

 Tsk, tsk. I know.
 
But still, I held on, kept believing for change. For things to feel right again.  I reminded myself that someday I'd feel good and normal again (though a couple times, I did wonder. er hem.). Spoke Bible verses and favorite quotes.
 
And then another Suddenly!  You know, "And suddenly there was with them a great host of angels" or "Suddenly there was an earthquake and the doors of the prison opened wide." One thing was one sad way then suddenly! It changed forever in a simple moment.
 
 Well, there I was this morning draped across the loveseat in my Mom Cave, reading the book Understood Betsy by Dorothy Canfield, when I finished, brought my eyes up from the page and then suddenly! I felt fine. Not beneath anything. Not under. No longer feeling as though I'd rolled back down the mountain God spent years pushing me up. 

No, suddenly my head rose woosh! above the waters of gloom and into Light.
 
It was subtle--no angels singing, no noise of any kind-- but it was awesome. Made me shake my head with wonder. And I've felt like good ol' Debra ever since. 
 
Happy, happy day.
 
I'm sharing that to say this simple thing: Please never give up on suddenlies happening to you. Keep believing as best you can, don't let yourself go so low that it'll take months to pull you up.

Believe, even during the hard times, for lovely normal. Oh, it can return so soon it'll make your head spin--in gratitude.

 
 
 
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Today a pair of real-live bluebirds spent some time at Tom and Debra's Outdoor Bird Restaurant. We were excited! Our first sighting, ever.


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Oh, and for just $1 at a yard sale yesterday, I bought Threading The Needle by Marie Bostwick. Devoured it. And the godly lessons tucked inside pleasantly surprised me.

And remember my mention of Leave It To Claire? I immediately ordered the next two in the series because of that book's excellence (our library system didn't have either, so I used my amazon gift card from that thingamajig in my sidebar. Thanks again for your help with that!)


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"While you’re on your way to where you’re going, enjoy where you are. Don’t wait until everything is perfect before you decide to enjoy your life."  ... Joyce Meyer

Just Checking-In

Exactly! That's how I feel about our having taken a leap and done the farm thing.

I lived-out the country life I'd pictured within my heart and will always be grateful for that opportunity, its delights--and its lessons which have changed me.

(A special thanks to Crystal at Money Saving Mom blog for that photo.)

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P.S.  Julie from Texas--my very best wishes for your house-hunting this weekend! It's been great seeing you back here at my blog--as you've noticed, we have tons of things in common, a sort of overlapping of seasons going on.  ツ

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Once Upon a Time

Gah. Just call me Sentimental Sally.

I took another Healing Day yesterday, sat around remembering the early and later years of Lennon and McCartney, how they made me smile on normal housekeeping days and the way they napped in sunlight and enriched my hours. The way I could pause in all the work and music and happiness to hug them and scratch their backs.

But now they're gone... the days, the cats and I'm sitting here repeating  this song, this Once Upon a Time,  over and over with tears in my eyes.

Oh, I can't wait to get to Hobbit Cottage! Though yes, I realize we're not supposed to wish days away (since they're all too precious), but just this once maybe it's ok. Perhaps (but I'm thinking probably not...). Sigh.

Healing Days! I've taken far too many here on this farm. Seems I'm always recuperating from the death of something, sitting here as though in a waiting room, waiting to recuperate and for healing to arrive. But how necessary these days are, otherwise hurts get stuffed down and down, erupting some far-off day, taking one by surprise and bringing confusion ("Where's this coming from? I thought I was fine!")

Oh well. There's much decluttering to do and I'm releasing much! Flinging it all to the winds. 

And may I return to the simple life of dusting, washing dishes and staring out windows while music from old decades plays. Cookbooks and 1930's magazines upon the kitchen table. 

My former life--can't wait to get back there, though with a new twist.

I know. Give it time and don't wish away the days! Enjoy them all, even amongst their imperfections.

I know, I know.  ツ




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Thankfully, I began reading a fun book yesterday, one even from this century(!) It's called Leave It To Claire by Tracey Bateman and is about a Christian fiction writer who's a single mom of four kids. And so much more. Check it out here.




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Do not say, “Why were the old days better than these?” For it is not wise to ask such questions."   ... Ecclesiastes 7:10



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"Thank God we can press on to what He has in store for us. In the meantime we need to keep our hand to the plow and quit looking back to what once was and will never be again."  ...  Joyce Meyer
 
(I was so grateful to read that on Facebook on Sunday. So needed it.)



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Of Building Your Boat *Before* The Storm

Yesterday a dear friend emailed me, saying this:


"I admire you for keeping so upbeat throughout all that you have gone through this past year. If you step back and look at it objectively, don't you see how much you have grown spiritually?"

Well, yes. Kinda.

But something more? Last week I thought, "It's a good thing I 'built my boat' before these huge storms of the past year. Otherwise, I'd have sunk by now. Drowned. Gulp, gulp, gulp."

Heaven only knows how stressed-out I've been at times even inside this boat!

When soul-shaking storms come, we have choices. Stand strong and still do the right things anyway? Or panic, flail our arms and blame God (or others) for the winds?

Way back in 1994 I finally let God remake me (instead of keep insisting on remaking myself) in the pretty good times. And that has made all the difference. Ever since that year, He (very often through Joyce Meyer and a couple other teachers) showed me:

... it's not ok to snap at other people just because I'm having no good, very bad, horrible days.  --and--

... walking around shaking my head and groaning, "I'm just not going to make it.  I won't survive this. Things will never get better," is the worst thing I can do. (God responds to faith, not fear.)  --and--

...blaming other people or circumstances is a losing game. When I allow God to change me, the annoying people or circumstances of my life will at least appear changed in the different light of my new way of seeing them.  --and--


So much more.

This type of stuff is what God used to build my boat, one strong enough to withstand winds and rains in stormy seas. And truthfully? I've had to use nearly everything that went into that boat in order to stay afloat this past year.

It makes me shudder to think, "What if I'd waited to build my boat?"

Gracious. Had I done that, instead? Well, seriously-- every lesson would have been twenty times harder to learn and I doubt that I could even put words together to form sentences right now. Seriously.

God is so very, very good.




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Learn your lessons well ...


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Dear McCartney

McCartney The Cat -- March 1997 - July 11, 2011 Our one-person cat: Thank-you for making me your one person. But oh Cartey, how will I make the bed each morning without your help? Good-bye, Sweetheart. I'll miss you.

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Of course, the temptation at times like these is to vow, "I'll never, ever get another cat. This just hurts too much!"

But no, Tom and I are not making such vows, for Grace is still here to enable us to love again. The most joyful, loving relationships will always involve a risk of hurt, a volunteered vulnerability, but oh Grace! Grace comes along in the center of the pain and heals whatever's been broken.  If we receive her.

Our Lennon and McCartney Era is over, but ah! What a remarkable era it was. Even with this pain, I wouldn't have missed those fourteen fun years with those two cats for anything else you could offer me.

And so I will tweak the saying at the top of my blog... I'll change it, here today, to this:

"After you've cried because it's over, smile because it happened."

For we are human, after all, and tears will fall.

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We so appreciate your condolences. They mean so much.

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Just Thinking Aloud

It is the best of times, the worst of times. But everything is going to be ok.

Yesterday McCartney the Cat began going downhill and so today will be her final full one. I look at her sleeping over on the love seat and try not to cry. I hold her and long for just two more weeks! But within me, I know that, too, wouldn't be enough.

So now we're dealing with death and moving and packing and downsizing and flinging away and believing Naomi will find a safe place to rent (and letting her go again) and trusting God that, well, as I said--everything will be ok.

And it will be--in Time. 

Give God time and He can change your whole world, but of course, we're usually so darn impatient and want everything wrapped up in a pretty blue ribbon, like, now. Who wants to wait for anything anymore?

But we must wait and it's how we wait that matters most to God. Were we patient? Or huge, whining crybabies?

I spoke with our young neighbor, (Cute Little Julie's Mom I call her), out at our mailbox and discovered she'd been feeling sad and bad for us, what with our selling this farm where we'd only lived three years. Oh my! I assured her I can't wait to return to my Real Life back in the 'burbs. To again have time and energy for what God's gifted me to do, knowing I'm exactly where I'm meant to be. 

Suburb Girl gone home.

It's funny how often we assume we understand other peoples' motives, decisions, yet usually! We're all wrong. In fact, I often remind myself of this remarkable verse:


"A man's steps are directed by the Lord. How then can anyone understand his own way?" ... Proverbs 20:24


If we don't even get what God's doing in our own lives, why then are we so tempted to figure-out and comment upon others' actions? 


Anyway. I read an article this morning about the millions of people out of work for months/years and, again, I felt extreme gratitude to God for His provision for Tom and me, for placing within our hearts a desire to downsize and for showing us it's--truly--not about who has the coolest house and the most toys, land or vacation memories. 

Rather? It's about obedience to our callings and loving a huge God with all our hearts. And trusting Him for everything else.

Selah.



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If you could remember my family in prayer on Monday morning as we take McCartney to the vet for the final time, well, we'd appreciate it so much. Thanks.



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