Sometimes it sucks

I run more than walk. It's my natural state. Today I headed out looking for the sun on my face and the need for new thoughts to pump through me like oxygen filled blood. My running feet on the ground did not disappoint and it felt like I was coming back to myself...

I needed that.

Then the reality of my malnutritioned body gave way and my sleep deprived soul gave in and the cold wind blew stronger than the suns rays and tormented me from all directions.

But this too is my running, this too is why I crave it. Sometimes it sucks and that is as real as any other part of me. It's not meant to always be sunny and 50 degrees with a cool breeze right when you start to get sweaty. Nope sometimes it sucks, and that's just fine.

I sometimes try to photograph how my run feels, to capture somehow, the change of mind and direction it can bring to my soul. It never really works that well, because I have to stop running to get a good shot and then it's just not the same. So at least to document, if not capture, I snapped a few today, because this is a day I will remember. The sunlight through the trees, the winding road up ahead, a hill to keep things interesting and and the bird crap that just missed my head and landed on my running leg.

Yeah, sometimes it sucks, but that's perfect and I want to live it all.

I hugged my little one goodby today. My toes cold on the driveway and my heart lodged in my throat. This one who has been a part of me from the beginning, my blood her blood creating her flesh. I remember just looking at her for hours not believing that she was mine...even just for this moment.

This moment that went too fast. This bueatuful girl, this girl that has turned me inside out, this girl that has made me be 100 percent sure of who I am before I could show her who she is...

my daughter, my friend...

I passed this piece of my heart off to him and they drove away.

home indeed

The ocean or the mountains;

 I always thought it would be one or the other.

But this…

this sea of trees where the humidity only hides imaginary peaks just out of reach. 

Home is where your rump rests….where your heart is…where your family is…where the soups on…where you park it…where I'm with you…

…home indeed.

No "thing" can make you happy.

Not the right school, not the weather, not a job, not a package in the mail, not the ocean, not the mountains, not even a house. 

I know, because I've been looking for that happy…

…that elusive peak just out of reach.

Time to let go

We went to the ocean this summer. It had been calling me for so long. For a girl who was raised amongst mountain tops I wonder at the deep pull that immense salty place has on my soul. In the mountains I feel at home….they keep me oriented…I know where I am and where I need to go. I love the feeling of looking up at their depth and height and the awe of looking for miles from their towering peaks.

When we lived in the south and there wasn't a hill in sight I often felt desultory….like a stranger roaming and lost. The only comfort was at the ocean, feeling the salt on my skin and the wind on my face. It wasn't the same as my mountains that beg me to climb, to conquer, to be in them…feel the rugged path under my feet and grit under my nails.  I can't swim…not really, and the uncontrolled impulsive power of the waves scares me. Yet there I stand, as long as I can, watching the waves roll and crash; only my feet brave enough to withstand the teasing waves. It soothes my soul, clarifies my thoughts and orients my perspective. Even now as I sit here in my mountain home I feel the pull of the rolling tides.

"The Lord still moves mountains, and still calms the raging seas." I heard in church today.

It made me wonder (but not really wonder) why I find comfort in the things that only God can control.

Random Acts of Kindness...Year 5

I'm often surprised at how real, deep and even overwhelming the grief can still be. It's been five years. Five years to get used to not calling her when silly things happen. Five years to get used to not seeing her at family gatherings. Five years to get used to not sharing my life with her. I've done a lot in the last five years, but getting used to having my sister gone is not one of them.

However, I do have a better understanding of where she is and what she's doing. A better understanding of Heavenly Father's love for all his children. A better understanding of the comfort given by the Savior's atonement. A better understanding of how all life's mess can make me a better person....and that is why I love Random Acts of Kindness.

Random Act of Kindness began as a way to remember Ruth, Nick and Audrey, because that's how they lived, because that's how we were blessed during our initial loss, and because now that's how we choose to live our lives.

Now, when I feel that gaping hole threatening to rip me clear through, I can think kindness instead of pain.  Sometimes it comes on fast, when I need a quick save....hurry, smile at the next person you see.... make eye contact....say hello...ask and listen about how they are, what they need. And sometimes it is a little more deliberate, following through on a phone call or an invitation I've put off way too long. Little by little neurons are trained to be kind instead of hurt, to look out instead of in.

As the kindness habits grow it is impossible to not see the kindness I receive. A good friend taking my kids overnight, not just feeding and housing them, but caring and comforting....even taking my son to soccer practice. Ten total kids and she still manages to take mine to soccer. She is kind, I am grateful.

I notice the kindness that comes even when there wasn't a need.  The kind that comes for no other reason but that you are loved. I was up early, so happy to be spending time with my husband, but wishing just a little I could be with my family as well. We were on a morning run in a strange and beautiful park. We ran up and around huge red rocks and reached the top in time to see the sunrise. It was red from all the smoke from summer fires, and made for an amazing view. Who knew this was what my sisters were doing at the same moment...waiting for that sunrise...it wasn't planned to all be there together miles apart, but there we were. Even God couldn't resist getting in on a day of Random Acts of Kindness.

Fighting Fires

Phew, that was a close one. 

I sigh relief as the stench of burned ashes blows off with the wind. Another disaster averted, it probably wasn't as bad as I thought...

the flames not as high as I imagined.... 

..surely there was no real danger. The few burns will heal quickly with proper coverings. 

I turn off the water and go get cleaned up, not wanting to investigate the cause. Preferring instead to believe that it was just a freak accident...

happenstance. 

Flare ups are bound to happen, but next time I'll be prepared and see the warning signs...

..catch it before it ignites, fireproof the surrounding dry tinder. 

I know I've got this.... 

I shiver as the hot wind blows through the charred, gutted shell.

Happy Valentine's Day

This day

Who doesn't like a little encouragement now and then? A little pick-me-up, kind words, a reminder of what's important....it can make all the difference. Perhaps it's not "needed," perhaps you could make it on your own....

perhaps....

but with 8 miles down and 18 looming in the distance, anyone who has run a marathon knows the value of a little encouragement. It doesn't matter where it comes from or in what form. Honking horns and crazy cheers, painted signs, a word from a stranger as you pass, or just the sound of feet matching your stride as you run together. My personal favorite was, "Hurry there's a buffalo chasing you!" I laughed, then ran faster. My second favorite was from a stranger as I ran by. She simply said, "You're doing it."

And instantly I knew I was.

The end would come whenever it came, but for that moment I was doing what it took to get there, and that was enough.

Recently I found myself in the middle of a marathon when all I had scheduled was a 5K. At first I panicked and almost lost my breath, until a friend grabbed hold and reminded me that I knew how to do this. One step at a time....and I lifted my eyes and kept running.

Pray~step~scriptures~step~love~step~ponder~step~pray~step~repent~step~
church~step~serve~step~love~step~forgive~step~teach~step~pray~step~ listen~step~live~step~breathe~
step~
step~
step~
step~

Just because something takes you by surprise doesn't mean you can't be prepared for it. Supplications for daily bread are always answered, for today.

And today you're doing it.

People survive them all the time...

It seems every time I start a post I feel like I need to apologize, or at least explain why I haven't been here, when this is such a place I love to be. I say I'm busy...too busy, for this and that and way to busy to write it all down; who has time to sit and write it all down...there is so much to write down. Nothing spectacular I suppose, just the day to day events of a slightly rebellious, often humbled daughter of God.

There is nothing noteworthy in the fact that once this week I succeeded in getting my house clean or even that it all came crashing back down around me two days later. Nothing original about sending my youngest off to preschool and then having my heart jump then fall to my feet at the sound of silence in my car. And who hasn't felt the exhaustion that comes, not of physically doing the daily mundane,  but from constantly wrestling heart and mind with the decisions that will both protect and prepare your kids for the life they are already living every day? I don't suppose that these things are any different than what a million other souls deal with, and yet it is all different and all so mine; and when I pray with my heart full of thanks for every minute of it all He answers with a peace that is designed just for the way my mind works and exactly what my heart understands.

Last night the storm hit hard, and I wasn't surprised...it was in the forecast...the awe came with the clarity of the stars afterward. In the beginning as the winds started to blow I kept telling myself not to stress...after all, storms are quiet common, people survive them all the time. As the rain turned to hail we took shelter under established routine, pushing through, ignoring the darkness; until it was over and all that was left was the darkness. And then the stars...clear and bright, not so bright as to show the damage that surely surrounded, just bright enough to know the storm was over. It was beautiful.

forgiveness...

"Successful marriages and families are established and maintained on principles of faith, prayer, repentance, forgiveness," ...forgiveness....most definitely forgiveness....



This month is the 15th anniversary for the "The Family, A Proclamation to the World". In fact, there is a month long celebration at Cocoa's...in fact, you're invited....in fact, that's where I am today.

to give chase..

I watched with amazement as the little girl walked up between the pews, quietly playing and twirling and then quietly walked back to her parents.

That has never happened to me. If my child were to get that far out of my grasp they would have taken off, sprinted up on stage giggling and laughing with glee until I was finally able to corner them and drag them kicking and screaming (and still giggling) back to our pew.

I know this because it happened.

But I couldn't help but wonder which came first; my kids running away or me giving chase.

As a mom, I've always been big on giving my kids freedom. For the most part, they wear, eat and play how they choose, letting logical consequences follow. For the most part they make good decisions.

But occasionally...

...they wander farther than comfortable and I hold my breath and pray...and sometimes, like this morning, they can be brought back with a gentle hug and reminders of love....but other times, like last week, I have to chase them down and bring them kicking and screaming back to the pew, and I wonder...why they ran in the first place.

The Real Joy of Summer

I love summer.

I know, I know, who doesn't? The  lengthened daylight hours seem to attest to summer as a preference for even the Divine. Big trips and family reunions, sprinklers and half naked babies tinted brown, green growth and the intense first bite of tomato.

Oh, and lets not forget....

the weeding and watering, the packing and unpacking, the cleaning, the canning, the cutting the lawn.

Yep, summer is a lot of work too, but I still stand by my first statement. Although work is....well....work, it can also be a lot of fun. I remember as a kid having all sorts of competitions as we worked. Memories of my sister and I beating our "city boy" cousins moving irrigation pipe is a favorite. Or sitting and talking in the shade of our big tree podding a mountain of peas until our fingers were permanently etched in green.

There were other times too. Pulling rye from our field and having my eyes get so itchy and sore I thought I'd go blind. (I guess I should remember that one next time my kids play their own version of that drama card) Or driving tractor alone hour after boring hour. That was not so fun, but I also remember my mom (who can still out work me, by the way) coming in from the garden, weeding done, just as I was pulling my sorry tail out of bed. And my dad coming in from hours longer than mine on the tractor, with only his eyes and teeth showing through the layer of dirt. Not doing what needed done was never an option.

Work is one of the most sincere forms of gratitude. Taking care of what you have been given speaks louder than a million thank yous. When I was in high school, my uncle passed away. I remember a lot of tender moments during the day of his funeral, but the one that I can never forget happened at the very end. After the burial service I was waiting in the car for my parents to finish up and come take me home. I was tired and probably hungry, and had been in a dress all day; summed up, I was being pretty selfish, and wanted to go. Just about then, two of my uncles walked by and one of them mentioned some shovels he had in the back of his truck. What? And then I saw one by one as more shovels appeared and I watched, humbly, as my aunts and uncles shoveled dirt onto the casket and completed this last task for their brother.

Gratitude....stewardship....love...and yes, fun. Work is an essential part of all things good, including true and lasting happiness.

For more thoughts on the value of work: Wordfull Wednesday at Chocolateonmycranium

Here are some pictures from this year's family reunion; which of course included a work project.

A mountain of dead branches from a heavy spring storm, reduced to a pile of chips and fire wood.

No doubt my nephew worked hard...tough kid that one.

Just because they weren't allowed near the heavy machinery doesn't mean they didn't work hard too!

This one's for you, Grandma...and to all the flowers fallen in your absence :)

Where's the Line?

How far would you go to show your love and support for your spouse?

Would you give up an entire day (plus babysitting) just to show them?

Would you sit uncomfortably in the sun for hours just to obtain a minute of glory for them?

Would you stretch your body far beyond what it has done in the last five or ten years just because your effort is important to them?

Would you give up an entire Saturday afternoon of working in the garden with perfect weather just to show that you're all a team?

Would you????

I would....

...and did. This week was like an extended company party at my husbands' work. It involved a lot of different competitions and hubs, being a part of a very competitive group, signed me up to compete. I'm sure he was thinking, "My wife played competitive sports in high school, (16 years ago) surely she can be an asset to the team." How flattering for me...really...my husband still values my high school achievements.

Now that it's done I can't complain too much; just because my body aches in ways I never new possible, and my fingers shake as I try to type, and my pride is slightly wounded from getting out 5 times in 3 innings...really, I was glad to help. There were some high moments too, not so much in softball, but the 5K was fun and my body did remember a trick or two involving a volleyball.

Now I need my bed...and maybe a chiropractor.

Just thankful he didn't sign me up for football...even if he had, a girl's got to draw the line somewhere.

Oh Honey...

Last week I scraped the bottom of the honey bucket.

No, this isn't a life metaphor with deep meaning, I really scraped the bottom of my honey bucket...and then licked the spoon...and fingers. The last of the honey may be an ordinary occurrence for some, but this time, for me...it hurt. This wasn't just any honey bucket, this was the last of the good stuff. The stuff family drove hundreds of miles for, the stuff I grew up on...a sweet taste of heaven right here in my kitchen. I would make the drive myself, just to refill my bucket, but the honey man has retired and I have found nothing that competes. My brother still has a stash that he guards very heavily. I guess deep down I thought he would soften and share, being family and all, but no...honestly I don't blame him, he's only looking after  himself his own little family.

The fact is, I don't have the resources to be a honey snob anymore, so last night I took the plunge and bought some different honey. The price was right, at $120 for a 5 gallon bucket, I've seen  it sold for more than twice that. It was recommended by a friend and it's local, which helps with allergies. It's raw, which means it still has live enzymes and a few bee parts. AND it's pretty tasty...after all, it is honey.  I've yet to open the bucket...in fact, this post is a way of delaying the inevitable...but the bread must be made, and my kids want goodies in their lunches tomorrow...so humbled, here it goes....

I love a good race...

I love a good race, and this.... was a good race. It was a 5K/5 mile race and everyone started at the same spot. I was running the 5 mile, but it was good to start with the 5K-ers...a little more excitment and speed...AND I got to start with Hup. This was his second 5K, so I knew he could do it, but I always worry he'll get lost (cause it happened once), so his dad ran with him. He hit a tough spot with about a mile to go, but thanks to the wonderful encouragement of fellow runners he sucked it up and finished strong at 27:47. That's almost a minute faster than last summer, and the best part is, he's excited for his next chance.

(warming up with his Dad)

My race went almost as planned. I think I fell off pace somewhere around the thrid mile. It wasn't well marked and had a lot of distractions...maybe the distractions helped me mentally, but I lost my focus on my pace, and in the end I came in at 40:00.6. Yep, that's right .7 seconds from my goal of going under 40 minutes. I guess that gives me a good excuse to run it again next year.

(notice my hands clear across my chest...nice form, egh?)

It was fun to see friends who have been hiding out on the treadmill all winter, and to see the smiles on the faces of those coming in strong, no matter what their time. I loved having my family their to feel the excitement and see this side of me that usually only comes out early in the morning while they still sleep, and I can't help but be a little excited when they all wanted to join in on the next race.

Nurtured

"By divine design...Mothers are primarily responsible for the nurture of their children." (Family Proclamation, paragraph 7)

Just this morning, I longed for the nurturing of a mother. Hadn’t I just cared for my little ones…one at a time…before they passed the sickness to me? Where is my mom, when all I can do is moan on the couch?

Of course, I know right where my mom is. Physically she is spending her days in service (as she always has) on a mission for our church; but that’s not all, because she is here with me too.

I may not have been bright enough as a child to let her teach me how to make bread, sew, and clean; but I did learn how to nurture, and it had little to do with the advice you might find in popular parenting magazines. A family is a hard place to hide imperfections, and we were as naked as the next; but in the end we are covered with covenants kept.

 

I love being a mother…and some days I think I’m pretty good at it; others…not so much. Those bad days would be enough to do me in with guilt and self doubt if I didn’t know about the back up plan.

We had a huge family growing up, and I often felt like one of the many. Really, how could one mother reach so many, cover so many bases…every day? Impossible really…on her own. I think she learned early to let go of perfection and cling tightly to the covenants she had made with the Lord.

Covenants that have greater strength than even a consistent discipline plan. Covenants that can reach through generations and bind family close, regardless of daily mistakes. Covenants that I have made with my Father, and my family.

So she does comfort me now, from a distance, and I know that even though my house will probably take a thrashing before I get back in the game, my family will be held close and covered.

Wordfull Wednesday @ Chocolate on my Crainium

Waking Up

I built something. 

It’s not perfect, but that was never the point. It wasn’t really cheap, but that wasn’t really the point either. So why did I shell out $200 for lumber and hardware only to neglect my house, kids and spouse for a whole week and only end up with an OK piece of furniture?

It was fun.

It seriously awoke this part of me that has been hibernating for years…neglected as I juggled babies, toddlers and relocating …and babies, toddlers and relocating. In fact, as I was bending down to hammer in an odd nail, I had a little flash back, of the last time I had attempted such a thing...last time when I bent down it was a strain to reach over my growing stomach and I only had a hand saw, and two year old Rose as a helper. The closet I built then wasn’t perfect either, but every time I looked at it I couldn’t help but smile.

This time all the kids got to help. Sunshine bravely held boards while I cut, Hup did a lot of the hammering and even showed Laser Boy some tricks of the trade. Rose helped paint exactly the way I asked her to, except for not leaving a little of the under color visible; she said it was just sloppy painting and she wouldn’t do it.

The hinges were a little tricky…I’ll know better next time, and the paint needs some touch up, but overall I’m giddy. And now, even two weeks after I finished my book shelf, I can’t walk by it (crooked doors and all) without a little smile.





Plans and loads of more ideas @ Knock Off Wood

Power Tools

He hit the nail square and hard, three swings and it was in. I was amazed. He moved on to the next nail as I stared with mouth open.

Wasn’t it just yesterday that I first handed him a hammer, sacrificing my own fingers to hold his nails straight? Didn’t I just wipe the tears of frustration and help pull out crooked nails? All that I was told said he was too young; too young for real tools…they have some nice pretend sets you know…but we were both desperate for more.
And now I watched with pride that was instantly humbled.

This was his deal, I merely gave him the tools. How many nails had he hammered on his own…and missed and pulled out and straightened…and hammered again?  How many sore thumbs and slivers? All this shaping him beyond what I could keep up with…

…and now he was holding nails for his little brother; sacrificing his own fingers to hold nails straight, and helping his little sister put her ideas together.

Showing how, quiet and kind; with just a hammer and a nail.

He is my cake...I am his icing

He's big, I'm little

He's loud, I'm quiet.

He's bold, I'm shy.

I laugh, while he pouts.

He is sure, even when he is wrong, and I can never decide.

He leaves for work and relaxes at home.

I leave to relax and work at home.

He is quick to love and quick to fight as I meander through miles of emotional possibilities.

He is man, I am woman, and at the end of the day my cold toes find his warm legs and we both smile.

Two completely different creatures...designed with differences, and divinely so;

we are one.

"By divine design, fathers are to preside over their families in love and righteousness and are responsible to provide the necessities of life and protection for their families. Mothers are primarily responsible for the nurture of their children. In these sacred responsibilities, fathers and mothers are obligated to help one another as equal partners."

Wordfull Wednesday "Unity in Marriage" @ Chocolateonmycranium

Only One Way

"Here, let me help you"

Of course that's not what I mean, and I make a grab for the shirt to slip it over his head. What I mean is, "I don't have enough time to wait for you to learn, so just let me do it for you."

He yanks it away and tries again.

Head in the middle, one arm on each side; plain and simple... really only one way it works.

Still he tries, head stuck, trying to push through the long skinny opening. So obvious to my eyes, my experience; still he pushes, stretching the opening.

I put off the clock and wait for his wail for help, and it comes.

"Is that not working"... feigned innocence.... "Do you want to try something different?"

Again, I show him the head sized hole. A little more struggle and he learns success.




I remember when my own father's eyes meet mine,

and I knew he knew.

He could have stopped it all right there. If he would have commanded, I would have obeyed...but he knew I already knew; and so he let me choose.

I struggled, sure there must be another way, until I was completely stuck; again, he lovingly showed me the right way...and I learned.

Know then that ev'ry soul is free,
To choose his life and what he'll be;
For this eternal truth is given,
That God will force no man to heaven.

He'll call, persuade direct him right;,
Bless him with wisdom, love, and light;
In nameless ways be good and kind;
But never force the human mind.

~"Know This, That Every Soul is Free"

And so I wait.

His & Hers

ME: "Honey! They're playing our song!"

HIM: "Hugh?"

My husband and I have never liked the same songs, or even the same type of music...at least...not at the same time, so we have several songs we claim as our own, but they are in two different categories: HIS and HERS.

One of my earliest favorites was "Cowboy Take Me Away" by the Dixie Chicks...but, my husband never was a cowboy, in fact, he used to joke about buying a house within walking distance to the GAP.

One of his early faves was probably something by R.E.M.

We did come close once. When my husband heard Alison Krauss sing "When You Say Nothing at All". He loved it, thought for sure it should be our song....unfortunately I thought it was silly since we never said "nothing at all." Besides, I thought "Simple Love" by Alison Krauss should be our love theme...sigh...

But we keep trying. I love the song "Radio King", covered by Wilco. It seems to fit us lyrically if not musically...(of course, Hubby doesn't like that kind of music...whatever.)

Your music fills my car
your voice breaks every time
I'm still wonderin'
if I know who you are
so I hang on every line.

I'm ok with our differences here, in fact, it intrigues me. Many wonderful conversations have begun with the line, "This song reminds me of..." I also love what the kids pick up from our different tastes, and we've had some fun family "dance offs" to music I never would have thought of playing.

Maybe one day, the music will start and I'll look up and catch his eye, and we'll both smile....but until then, all I ask, is that the music keep on playin'.

Tune in to Love songs at chocolateonmycranium